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nataliesfirefly · 8 months ago

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You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 7

a/n: hey y’all!! im finally back yayyy and ready to serve you guys some hot and fresh ANGST. i would like to apologize in advance, this chapter is kind of rough. part 8 will most likely be the last part of this series 😭😭 pls give suggestions for what i should write next, like should i start doing oneshots or start a new series, and should i write for a new character??? just send it to my asks!!! anyways enjoyyyy ily all so much thank you for the kind words and love! ❤️❤️

word count: 4k words

warnings: fem reader, language, mentions of sex, alcohol, smoking, ANGST, fluff for like one second, suggestive stuff, farleigh is a bitch but so is reader, not proofread

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You wake slowly, your eyelids heavy with sleep. You feel an arm wrapped around your waist and warmth enveloping you. Sunlight creeps into the room, bathing the walls in golden light. Memories of last night start coming back to you in waves.

You tilt your head up slightly, seeing Farleigh sleeping peacefully. His long lashes flattened across his closed eyelids, his chest rising and falling slowly, completely relaxed in his deep sleep.

If someone would have told you a year ago you would be waking up next to Farleigh, you would have laughed in their face. It’s surreal. And yet you can’t complain as you watch the beautiful, serene expression on his face.

You shift, sitting up slowly, careful not to wake him. You both barely fit in his bed. You wonder how you managed not to fall off of it during the night.

He stirs a bit in his sleep and stretches out the arm that was flung over your waist. He groans softly and his eyes flutter open as you pull up the duvet to cover the lower half of your body.

“Morning,” He mutters, blinking away the sleep, his voice husky. “Hey,” You awkwardly reply, noticing that your own voice is a bit weak. You notice the dull pain in your lower back as you sit upright, and you grimace.

Farleigh just stares at you blankly, and you stare right back. You aren’t sure what to do or say in this situation, when the person you’ve always claimed to hate just gave you the best night of your life.

You reach a hand around to your back and rub it softly, trying to soothe the pain. He raises an eyebrow, and you can tell one of those smug remarks is forming on the tip of his tongue.

“Are you sore?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he rolls onto his back. He raises his arms behind his head and watches you with intrigue.

“No,” You lie, shaking your head. “No?” His smirk only grows and you glance away. “Maybe.” You say softly.

Your gaze trails down to his stomach and his waist, the duvet covering the rest of him. You look back up to his face, and you can see him eyeing your body with a look of hunger.

Nope. “Okay, we need to figure this out,” You start, trying to push the horny thoughts out of your mind. Farleigh sighs and rolls back onto his side, facing you.

“What’s there to figure out?” He asks, making it sound so simple. You stare at him blankly and blink a few times.

“Are you- Oh my God,” You hold your head in your hands.

“You’re overcomplicating this. We hooked up. Are you familiar with that term?” He pokes you in the side and you bat his hand away.

“Shut up,” You roll your eyes. “Farleigh. It means something when you have sex with someone, okay?” You explain matter-of-factly. He goes quiet.

“I thought you would be mature enough to realize that,” You shake your head and chuckle at your own apparent stupidity.

“For you it might have meant something,” He replies coldly. “But for me, maybe it didn’t.”

You turn back to him, genuinely taken aback by his comment. Why did it feel so special to you? You think back to last night. It was so intimate. It didn’t feel like just another hook up. He made it feel like your first time, and he’s saying that it didn’t mean anything to him??

“Right, because you just get passed around, so it all starts to feel the same at some point,” You fire back. His eyes turn dark.

“Wow, fuck you too,” He says under his breath. “You’re just like everyone else. You’re just fucking shallow, not capable of seeing someone as more than just a hole,” You reply, your voice seething with anger as you climb off the bed and go to search for your clothes on the floor.

“Jesus, that’s not true,” Farleigh exclaims, but you shake your head as you step into your underwear and your shorts.

He sits up and watches you walk to the door once you’re dressed. You open it and turn back to look at him one more time before shutting it behind you.

You don’t realize the tears pooling in your eyes until you’re alone in the hallway. You begin the walk back to your room, ignoring the fact that your legs are a bit unsteady and your back still aches.

Are you just being a stupid, delusional girl who caught feelings for someone after a one night stand? You could usually just leave someone's room after sleeping with them and never speak to them again back at Oxford, but with Farleigh, it’s different. You wanted it to mean something. You try to push down your feelings and forget about last night, but it’s nearly impossible. All you can do is try your best to ignore him.

The past three nights, there’s been a pattern. You and Farleigh ignore each other the whole day, avoid each other at all costs, and then late at night when no one else is awake, he leaves his door open for you and you creep into his room, which eventually leads to you two fucking or doing something of the sort.

Of course, you two never talked anything out or solved any problems. You don’t know why you went back to him. You were trying to be nonchalant and independent, but you obviously failed at that. You want to hate him, but your craving for his touch and his body overrides all of your logical judgment.

And every night you tell yourself that it’s the last time. But you just keep coming back for more and he welcomes you with open arms.

Tonight at dinner, you act like he’s not there at all, like a ghost is in his place, and he does the same. You don’t even glance in each other's direction.

“So, the party is tomorrow night. Your friend is arriving during the day, correct?” Elspeth glances at you and you nod in response.

“Yes. She’s just taking the train and then getting a cab, I think.” You take a nibble of your bread.

“Remind me of her name again, darling,” Elspeth asks. “Oh, it’s Lola.” You smile and she presses a hand to her chest. “Oh, I love that name. So beautiful.”

Felix clears his throat. “I didn’t know you were inviting Lola,” He says. You look over to him and it seems that he is pleased with this information.

“Yeah. Sorry, I forgot to tell you,” You pat him on the shoulder. Farleigh sighs loudly and your eyes dart over to him before returning to Felix.

“It’s alright. I quite like Lola,” He smiles and you grin, thinking of how happy Lola will be to hear this information.

“Because you fucked her?” Farleigh says abruptly and Elspeth coughs. “Farleigh,” Sir James hisses.

“Jesus Christ, mate,” Felix shakes his head and looks down.

You awkwardly sit there in the silence, eyeing Farleigh from across the table. “No, I like Lola because she’s kind, funny.. She’s smart, too,” Felix finally says.

“Whatever,” Farleigh rolls his eyes and you can’t help but snicker. What’s his problem?

“You should ask Lola out. I think she really likes you, too.” You nudge him and lower your voice as a different conversation begins at the table.

“Does she?” He raises his eyebrows and his eyes light up. “Felix, she’s had a crush on you since like… our first year,” You explain. His face turns a red shade.

It’s weird to see Felix be so nervous over a girl. To him, all girls are the same, just little accessories for him to show off. But maybe Lola was an exception, the one girl he might actually care about.

“Well, I look forward to seeing her.” You can see that his smile doesn’t fade even after your conversation ends.

Later that night, you end up in Farleigh’s bed, sticking to the usual routine. You snuck into his room at one in the morning, which was the time you found everyone else was already asleep. Now you could guess that it’s maybe around two as you lay next to him, your naked body covered by the expensive sheets, staring up at the ceiling.

“You don’t think anybody could hear us, right?” You ask softly. The last thing you need is for Felix or, really, any one of the Cattons to find out about you and Farleigh’s situationship.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be asking that?” You look up to see that stupid smirk. His face is illuminated by a slice of moonlight streaming in through the window, and he looks angelic. You can see the gold flecks in his eyes. He has a point, since you two have been doing this for four nights now.

“They definitely did. But no one has said anything yet,” He sighs and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You smile at the feeling of his skin against yours and close your eyes.

“Do you think Felix would be mad?” You ask. He plays with a strand of your hair, threading it through his fingers slowly. “Why would he be?” He questions.

“Cause we’re best friends and you’re his cousin,” You explain, wondering why it isn’t obvious to him.

He tilts his head down to you. “Best friends?” He raises an eyebrow and you roll your eyes. “I don’t know.” You shrug. You assume he’s referring to you and Felix’s little fight.

“Did he really say those things about me?” You ask, sitting up slightly. “You ask a lot of questions,” He groans.

“No, answer me,” You respond while narrowing your eyes. “I might have… made some of it up?” He trails off, his tone making it almost sound like a question. You grab a pillow quickly and hit him over the head with it.

“Farleigh! You little shit!” He shields his face with his hands and laughs. “It’s not funny,” You sit back and cross your arms. He finally peeks out from behind his hands and shrugs. “I mean, was I wrong? He said it eventually, I just sped up the process,” He bites his lip to keep back a grin, but you see it in his eyes.

“Whatever.” You shake your head before laying back down.

“If it makes you feel any better, I only said that stuff because I know how it feels,” Farleigh says, his voice softer than before. “After all these years, I’ve figured out how he thinks. How they all think,” He explains.

You tilt your head as he continues. “They pity me. They only keep me around because they feel bad for me and everything that happened with my mom,” You feel a pang in your chest. You always knew this, but you still feel bad for Farleigh. In a way, you can relate.

“Just look around. I don’t fit in. But I try to,” The room falls silent and all you hear is both of your breathing.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. He shakes his head. “It’s fine. What I’m trying to say is, I understand you.” He says it almost hesitantly, and you know it’s because he’s not used to being vulnerable with anyone.

“Thank you,” You take his hand in yours and squeeze it gently. He looks down at your hand and then back up at you, and you can see the gears turning in his head. Then, he withdraws his hand and turns over. “Goodnight,” He mutters.

You sigh and turn over so your back is to his. Why does he do that? It’s like he can’t make up his mind. Does he want to be vulnerable or does he want to pretend that he’s emotionless?

It’s a big turn out at the party, as per usual. You recognize a few people from college, mostly Felix’s friends. Everyone else is most likely family friends of the Cattons or at least acquaintances. You can’t even comprehend how one could invite so many people to a party. You’re not even sure you could name twenty friends off the top of your head.

You and Lola step outside, navigating through the large throng of people, gently shoving past and muttering the occasional ‘excuse me!’ ever so often. She arrived earlier today, shortly after lunch, and was greeted warmly by Elspeth and the rest of the family. Elspeth called her beautiful several times and seemed to really enjoy Lola’s company. Felix was hanging around them, joining the conversation every now and then, and you noticed how Lola’s face burned a deep red shade everytime they made eye contact with each other. You told Lola about Felix’s little crush on her, and she started jumping and giggling like a schoolgirl. She couldn’t believe it.

You inhale the fresh air, no longer trapped among the crowd of sweaty, writhing bodies inside. There are still many people outside, but less concentrated. Some people lay on the grass, while others stand and take sips of their drinks, as the footmen pace around, carrying platters of various cocktails, wines, and hors d'oeuvres. You glance around, taking in the dark landscape colored by large torches of fire and glitters of sparkly dresses catching in the neon lights.

“Wow. This looks like a movie,” Lola grins and looks around. “They really know how to throw a party,” She remarks. You nod in agreement. “They do, don’t they?”

She pauses and squints while glancing about. “Have you seen Felix?” She asks. You knew the question was coming. You raise an eyebrow and shake your head. “No. I bet he’ll turn up at some point, though.”

You both sit down on a nearby bench, peacefully observing the scenery. Lola turns to you. “Hey, you know who I think you would be cute with?” She nudges you with her arm and you sigh, preparing yourself for what she’s going to say. “Who?” You ask.

“Farleigh.” She says. You swallow nervously, attempting not to show whatever reaction you’re having to his name. “Oh. Umm, no.” You shake your head aggressively and she laughs. You can feel your face heating up and you curse internally. “Why are you getting so flustered?” She quirks an eyebrow and narrows her eyes suspiciously.

“I’m not,” You quickly look away, turning your face away from her. “Dude, the chemistry you two have is insane.” Lola whistles and you turn back to her. “He’s annoying,” You roll your eyes, half faking your disdain.

“You know, I’ve never told you this, but I feel obligated to now,” She scoots closer to you, and your curiosity peaks. “Hm?”

“So, back in… When was it? First year, first term. Oxford. Farleigh came by our dorm once, and he seemed very… concerned.” She begins, and she seems concentrated on recalling all the details. You don’t know where this is going.

“It was a Sunday morning, so of course we had gone out the night before. When he couldn’t find you anywhere, he walked all the way to our dorm, which is, mind you, on the other side of the campus from where he lived at the time.” She explains. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why was he looking for me?” You question.

“I don’t know. That’s the thing. He wouldn’t really tell me much, he was just asking if you had come home after the club. Which you hadn’t yet, so I told him no. He just seemed very worried for someone who claimed to hate you so much,” Lola laughs quietly to herself and plays with a piece of her hair.

“Oh.” You look down at your lap and process the information Lola has just given you. “I think he cares about you more than he lets on,” She tells you with a lowered voice and another playful nudge.

Felix spots the two of you from a distance and waves, jogging over. He smiles and dips his head to Lola, then to you.

“Hello, you two. Looking stunning tonight,” He observes your dresses, but especially Lola’s. His eyes linger on her for a second too long, and you notice.

“Why thank you,” You reply politely, raising your glass of wine to him before taking a sip. “Is that one of Venetia’s dresses?” Felix gestures to your elegant black dress. “Yes. She let me borrow it,” You answer. “Well, it looks great on you,” He nods and smiles.

“Lola, would you like to walk with me?” He asks, turning to Lola. She nods quickly, eagerly. “Yes, please. Let’s go,” She gives you an excited glance as she steps forward, Felix taking her hand in his, and they walk off together. You watch with envy. Although you claim to not want a boyfriend, it would still be nice to not be left alone at parties.

Sometime later, you find yourself in a pleasant conversation with a man by the name of Damien. He seems kind and genuine, and he’s actually interesting. He has a personality, surprisingly, and good humor. You both stand by the staircase, chatting it up and discussing all things school and personal life. Although Farleigh is at the back of your mind, and you haven’t seen him all night, you try not to care. You know that you aren’t actually in a relationship with him, so you can talk to all the men you want.

“Yeah, and that’s what I told them. You have to look at it from a different perspective. That’s what philosophy is all about, really.” Damien explains, and you nod enthusiastically. “Right. Exactly,” You suddenly feel a presence behind you and then a strong grasp on your arm.

“I’m so sorry man, she’s had way too much to drink tonight. I should probably help her up to bed.” You hear Farleigh’s voice and you turn to look up at him. The fuck is he doing? You’ve had a whopping total of one drink tonight, a single glass of red wine. What is he on about?

Damien raises his eyebrows. “She seems fine to me, mate.” He tilts his head and glances back and forth between you and Farleigh. You can’t help but notice he’s significantly shorter than Farleigh.

“She’s not, but thank you! Have a good night,” Farleigh replies with a bit of sass in his voice as he drags you away, causing you to stumble after him as he leads you up the stairs. Damien watches you two leave with a puzzled expression.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss angrily, some people side eyeing you as you pass by. “Saving you from that boring conversation,” He replies, eventually pushing open a door to one of the guest rooms and walking in. He closes the door behind him.

“I was actually enjoying that. And I’ve only had one drink tonight, for the record.” You escape out of his grasp and step away from him. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, looking down at you.

“Enjoying what? His knowledge about philosophy?” He scoffs and shakes his head. “At least he’s smart enough to talk about philosophy rather than the latest gossip or his most recent hook up,” You scowl back at him.

“And his outfit. He clearly has no knowledge on fashion,” He chuckles and sighs shortly after. You don’t laugh.

“What do you want from me?” You question, narrowing your eyes. “Nothing.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

Realization clicks in your head as a smile tugs at your lips. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” You say. He freezes and you know you’ve just read him like a book. “Farleigh Start is jealous,” You say in a sing song voice and his gaze falters down to the floor. “Shut up,” He groans.

“You avoid me all day, all evening, and then you want me when it’s convenient for you, but you don’t want me to speak to another man?” You feel yourself getting more and more heated with rage with each word. You feel all the emotions you buried coming to the surface. “And not only that, you’re just emotionally unavailable! All you care about is–” You huff angrily, dropping your hands to your side.

“You can’t have it both ways. Make up your fucking mind.” You watch as his eyes widen at your words. “I’m not playing your stupid games anymore, Farleigh. Either decide what you want or leave me the fuck alone.” Your harsh words hang in the air between you and you let out a breath, looking down towards the ground. Lola’s words from earlier linger in your head and it makes you even more confused.

“I mean, am I stupid for thinking we had something?” You ask, throwing your hands up and looking at him expectantly. “Yes.” He replies flatly. You’ve never felt the urge to slap him across his face as strong as right now. “We were never a thing. Not even a concept. We never will be.” He says, resting his head back on the wall.

“So you just used me for my body? Is that all you wanted?” Your heart races with fury. He can’t even look you in the eye as you talk, he continues to look down at the wooden floor. “I hate you,” The words escape your lips before you can think about it. Suddenly, his eyes flick back to yours and he scoffs.

“You don’t hate me when I’m inside you,” He remarks smugly, a grin on his face despite the serious situation. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You exclaim angrily after registering his response.

You decide to go back to the door, and just as you’re about to turn the knob, he speaks.

“You know what I think?” Farleigh says, his voice dark and cold, and you can already tell he is about to say something ruthless. “What? Please, tell me.” You turn around to face him, your vision blurry with tears.

“I think that you’re a slut who finally got the attention she wanted, and then when a whole relationship didn’t come with it, she blames everyone except for herself.” He takes a step closer to you, attempting to assert dominance with his height. He leans down as he lowers his voice, his dark eyes intense and cold. “But it is her fault, because she expects a fucking fairytale romance, but she’ll never get it, because those don’t exist. But she’s happy to play along and get fucked like the dumb slut she is.”

You think that you actually stop breathing for a second. His words slice through you like cold knives and his gaze pierces into yours. You inhale shakily and raise your finger, pointing at him.

“You’re a piece of shit, Farleigh. I wish we never met,” You blink and the tears overflow, streaming down your cheeks. White hot hatred built up over the years pours out of you and into your voice. He seems taken aback by your words as regret and guilt swim in his eyes. He remains silent as you twist the doorknob, swing the door open, walk out, then promptly slam it behind you.

You walk to your bedroom as fast as you can, trying to avoid the glances and whispers as you pass by. You’re sure you look a mess, you can feel the mascara streaking down your face with every tear that drops from your eyes. You open the door to your room, hoping to not find a random couple fucking on your bed. Luckily, it’s completely empty as you step inside and close the door behind you, locking it.

You try to tune out the loud bass echoing throughout the walls as you climb onto your bed, helplessly sobbing with your head in your hands. You want to text Lola, but you know she’s probably having fun with Felix. You wonder if Venetia has her phone on her. Nevermind, you think. It’s probably best to just suffer on your own and let everyone else enjoy themselves tonight.

It’s not like you can tell anyone about what’s happening. No one is even supposed to know about you and Farleigh. How are you going to survive the rest of the summer with him around at all times? You know you can avoid him. It’s just going to be difficult. But you’re willing to do whatever it takes because that was the last straw for you. It’s really over this time, and you promise yourself you won’t fall back into his trap.

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#farleigh start #saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh x you #farleigh saltburn #archie madekwe

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eeunoia · 5 months ago

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ENHYPEN Series

sinag | psh.

chapter twelve

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.

word count: 4k

warnings: contains harrassment, violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some. (please be responsible and avoid fics that contains warnings that can trigger you.)

note: reblogs and replies are highly encouraged. i truly appreciate your messages to me. it keeps me going. please leave comments and tags when you reblog! thank you so much, stay safe and ily!

“Thank you.” you smiled gently at the cabin crew once she placed your tea in front of you. She flashed back this kind smile before she puts Sunghoon’s whiskey in front of him.

Your eyes trailed from the whiskey then to the man staring right at you. It almost made you gagged when you met his piercing gaze. Your stomach churns, feeling slightly on edge.

“You didn’t even say thank you.”

Sunghoon was amused. That in the middle of this situation, you still have the time to call him out because he didn’t said thank you to the cabin crew. He couldn’t help but to wonder how innocent and pure you are.

“She’s working for me. It's just right for her to do that, she’s just doing what I paid her to do.” the words coming out from his mouth almost made your ears bleed. It was unbelievable for you.

You know he isn’t nice, but he still just proves you he can be even much worst.

“Once we arrive, you will live in my mansion.” he then continued.

Your brows furrowed hardly and you carefully settle your cup down, making sure it won’t break or anything. The news just shocked you to the bone.

“Pardon?” you faked a chuckle. “You’re joking, right?”

He took a sip from his liqour and shows no reaction to his face. “Tell me, Aelia...” he says in a very husky tone.

He bat his eyes slowly while keeping his stares right at you.

“Do I look like I’m joking to you?” his placid expression and dark eyes sure tells you that he’s dead serious.

“B-But I can’t! I have a family, my parents will worry about me,” a joke. It was a big joke, you are lying because you’re pretty much sure that they won’t even care if you suddenly disappear.

Oh maybe they will because nobody will give them money anymore, but basically nothing more than that.

He licks his lips, “I will take care of it. I’ll talk to them.”

“How about my j-job? I need to show up to my office because I’m the breadwinner to my family. I h-have to send money to them.” facts. That’s very much true. You did lost contact with your parents right after they kicked you out, but then after figuring about your new found job, they started asking you for money again.

“I’ll support them, don’t worry. I won’t let them starve. And for your job...” he stalls his words, eyes wonders far remembering that you are working in a company that he actually owned.

He smiled inwardly thinking of transferring the ownership into yours instead. Right. That could work. In that way, you will be the CEO of that company, you don’t ever need to worry about being late or absent most of the times.

But then he also remembers what Jake told him. His friend mentions something about not informing you that he owns the company yet. He said it will probably cause him trouble more than benefit him.

“You don't have to work anymore. Quit your job.” he instructs strictly.

You’re completely caught off-guard so you raised an eyebrow at him, “Excuse me? I’m not going to quit my job.”

You love your job. It’s been the first time ever that you actually enjoyed your workplace. The employees were always nice at you and don’t hate you for basically doing nothing bad towards them.

“I will take care of you and everything you need so there’s no need for that.” he sounded so confident. Like the type of confidence that gives you the impression that he can buy you everything.

“Why?” you asked finding him unbelievable. “I don’t understand why you will support me and take care of me. I’m not your wife? We’re not even in a relationship.”

Because the way he said those things, its only applicable for a husband assuring his wife that he will take care of them. That she can lean on him and don’t worry about anything anymore.

His eyes brightens a bit, it was hard to tell but you manage to see it. Even if its just in a very short time.

“Do you want to change that? Want to be my wife? Let’s get married.” you are taken aback even more. The way he surprises you over and over is amusing.

He’s really losing his mind.

Your shoulder fell as you keep your stares at him. “Mr. Park, look—”

“Sunghoon.” he cuts you off. “Call me Sunghoon.”

You gulped, couldn't handle how soft the tone he just used. The way he softly said it almost sent you to oblivion. Heart thumping and stomach churning. Crazy how this man affects you just by talking gently.

“I’m dead serious here. I don’t know anything about you except for the fact that you’re Park Sunghoon, a mafia who does a lot of illegal stuff and the one who kidnapped me.”

Sunghoon’s trying so hard to listen, after all he doesn’t want to miss any of the things you’re saying. But the way you look so beautiful in front of him is very distracting. The way your lips moves everytime you talk, your hands gestures that you unconsciously do and your facial expression that absolutely adorable.

“So you want to know me more?”

Your lips hangs open, unable to find the right words to say in order to make this gorgeous man understand.

His intense gaze and smirk slowly forming his lips made you blush. It still doesn’t make sense how someone this good looking exist at your lifetime. This man have the face of somebody from a manga.

“All right. Let’s go on dates then.” his grin just grew wider at the amount of ideas for your dates that occupies his mind.

He’s down bad for you, willing to do and give everything just to please you. He knew he’s in trouble and that soon enough he’ll be a slave to you. But that’s the least of his concern.

You can drain his bank accounts, which is not possible, as long as he can have you.

“Wear this.” he said as he place this elegant dress at the bed you were laying on moments ago. You looked at it with cautious eyes. They were clearly still puffy with all the crying you just did after you two arrived at his huge mansion last night.

“I don’t want to.”

“I’m not asking. I am telling you to wear it.” he spat and sat down at the chair. He looked extra handsome today, wearing something that surely suits him well.

Your eyes darted at the dress and you can’t help but to admire it. It is undeniably beautiful, but your gaze wanders back to his suit. It doesn’t match his dark clothing.

A sundress with a pastel color, slightly doesn’t go along with his usual formal wear but totally your type of style. It doesn’t look bad, the combination is fine, just gives different dynamic. It perfectly shows how different your personalities are.

“What are you waiting for?” his tone indicates how he’s really out of patience already.

“Do you expect me to change here? In front of them?” you asked sarcastically and even motioned his men.

His eyes turned dark right away, “Leave the room.” he seriously said and without another word, they did leave.

You furrowed your eyes as you watch how he didn’t even budge from his place, “You too.”

He tilted his head at the side, “And why? I want to stay and watch.” he smirked dangerously as he scanned you from head to toe, sending instant shiver to your spine.

You felt heat rush over your cheeks and you tried to hide it by quickly crossing your arms at him. “Do you want me to change or not?”

He rolled his eyes before heaving a sigh as he stood up, “Okay, love. Hurry up.” he mumbled before walking close to you and casually placing a kiss at the side of your head before he heads out.

You were stunned at the sudden affection and you felt your heart racing. Not to mention, he dropped that endearment like a bomb. He’s totally a criminal and everything he does feels illegal.

You sighed and tried calming yourself down. This isn’t the right time to have your heart racing like crazy. He isn’t a nice person.

You head out after putting the dress and scanning yourself at the mirror for two minutes. It looks fine for you, but you feel like it would look better with some make up on and so you did.

Last night after arriving at the airport, you’re escorted into his car. It was a different from the one he used before and kind of made you wonder how many cars does he have.

He soon drove off towards somewhere. You’ve seen these types of vehicle on movies and you knew it can be really fast. But maybe Sunghoon noticed how nervous you are after hearing its roaring engine and drives in a decent speed.

The drive didn’t took long as you notice the car entering this huge gate. Just by the looks of it, you can tell that the person who owns it reeks off of money, which happen to be the same person sitting beside you.

People who wears uniform lined up by the entrance of the main mansion. The property itself is very spacious and you cannot tell how big this land it. Maybe you’ll get a better view in the morning, the dark made it a bit more hard to tell.

“Stay here.” he spat before stepping outside. A pout forms your lips at the way he commands you, but left to just follow it. The plane ride and all that happened prior to this somehow drains you, unable to even put up a fight to escape.

Besides, the view of this wonderful mansion sure took your interest. It was so elegant and beautiful. Something that everybody dreams of living in. A dreamland.

He opens your door and despite the faint glare on your eyes, you mumble a short thank you for him. He smirks then helps you get out from the vehicle.

His serious and placid expression went back the moment he faces his people. It caught your attention and watches how quick he changes his mood.

Everyone bows as you walk pass them and it made you a bit uncomfy. They’re paying respect for Sunghoon and since he’s dragging you to walk along with you, it looks like they’re doing the same thing to you.

It made you feel uneasy and ended up lowering your head for them as well. Greeting them softly while passing by. Sunghoon heard it and glances over his shoulder. He saw how you’re confused on what you’re suppose to do.

It was adorable that he craned his neck too quickly in order to hide the smile forming his lips.

The inside of the mansion is even more breath-taking. Although, you didn’t have much time to admire every part of it since it was really huge and since Sunghoon asked you to be escorted to your room so you can rest.

And now, here you are. Inside one of the big, elegant rooms of his mansion. Staring at your reflection through the big mirrors inside the fancy bathroom. It was like a dream. Even the biggest hotels you’ve been to doesn’t match the luxury of this place.

After realizing you’ve taken so much time preparing and maybe he’s out of patient already, you decided to go. Heart started thumping again out of worry.

When you stepped out from the room, you saw how Sunghoon’s eyes sparkled. He looked amused like as if he just saw something amazing. You can't help but once again blush hardly because you didn’t even fixed yourself that much.

With a few steps he approached closer, “You look so beautiful.” he stated and gently grabbed your hands before he took it to his lips and planted a small kiss.

You’re completely caught off guard and you can feel blood rushing over to your cheeks. The strong urge to resist these feelings inside your stomach are trying hard to put up a fight to unwanted feelings he’s slowly waking inside you. His intense stares are really giving you a hard time. He stood right in front of you gorgeously, his aura screaming nothing but power and dominance.

“You look so beautiful.” he repeated himself like as if the first time he said it was not enough.

With a blushing face, “C-Can you cut it out? It’s the dress that’s pretty.” you tried to avoid his eyes but then something about them kept pulling your gazes back.

Sunghoon tilted his head and leaned closer to your face with a small grin on his pretty lips, he moved his hand then slowly rested it over your waist. With soft strokes he caress it up and down, eyes never leaving your shy ones.

“I disagree. The dress looked pretty only because you're the one wearing it.” he stated firmly and you gulped as he drop a kiss at your cheeks once before guiding you out of that place.

The fresh, cold air felt amazing as it blew over your skin. He opened the car’s door for you and without any complain, you entered.

The few times that the mafia boss visited you to talk clearly taught you some lessons. He gets pissed easily whenever you don’t obey. And putting him into that mood always doesn’t end well. In order to make sure you won’t make your situation even worst, you’ve got to try not to piss him off.

“Where are we going?” you question when he made it at the driver’s seat.

His car, as expected, is like those expensive sports car you’ve only seen in movies. You don’t know much about cars, but it suits him well. This type of vehicle is perfect for the young mafia boss. Looked so cool and just by looking at it is enough to say about his status in life.

He glanced at you for a while as he started the engine. You even saw some of his men taking the vehicles just around where Sunghoon’s car.

“I’m taking you to a proper date. To celebrate that I finally found you.” he said.

Despite knowing the fact that he had been searching for you for years now, you still find it unbelievable. Not that he doesn’t have the resources and money for doing all of that, but the bigger question is why? Why would he do all these things for someone he just met once?

You still cannot understand and believe how someone like him can do all of those for you?

Your stares unconsciously darted at his direction and your stares remained. He looked extremely attractive even when he's just maneuvering the car. His biceps flex whenever he move the steering wheel.

You knew he’s a very dangerous man and not in a million times have the thought of being in a date together with a mafia boss occurred to you. At first, you really don’t believe at such people but after that one time when you witnessed a live shootout, the realization finally dawned onto you.

And now, the main proof sitting right next to you. Driving you and going out with you on a date.

Your heart aches as you watch Sunghoon beside you. The thoughts of how his image and personality strongly contradicts how gentle he treats you makes you feel a bit of hesitation of running away from him.

Something about him makes you want to stay but of course, you also want to be free again and to have your normal life. You know deep inside, you need to do something to get away tonight.

You two eventually arrived at the said fancy restaurant. He stopped his car right in front and a valley rushed to assist for the parking. Sunghoon steps out and walks gracefully on your side to open the door for you. You’re a little hesitant to accept his hand, but decided to do it.

It was a bit cold and rough. For some reason, it sent you a different kind of comfort.

Once you stepped out of his car, you get the chance to roam your eyes around to check the place. From outside, the place looked amazing. There are staffs by the lobby, waiting for customers that will arrive. If it isn’t in the situation, you would be excited and all. Its your dream to actually eat at a place like this.

“Let’s go.” he says before he slowly guided you inside, his big hand resting at the small of your back.

There’s no need to get in line as the staff recognized him right away. He walks closer and smiles brightly then bow his head.

“Mr. Park, this way to your table.”

As usual, Sunghoon didn’t say anything and just guided you gently to the direction where the staff was guiding the two of you.

Once settled at your table, the two of you ordered the food you want to eat. It was mostly him who picked since you don’t know what's the best one to try here. You leave it to him. He seems to be a regular here.

It slightly made you wonder how many girls has he brought here for a date. You frown faintly at the thought.

In the middle of waiting, Sunghoon excused himself to go to the bathroom for a short while and that was your cue to try to ask for help. You glanced around to check if any of his men are just near. When its clear, you wait for the perfect opportunity to make your move.

When one of the waiters approach your table to place the food he ordered, you held him by the arm softly. The man, which you think is in his mid-forty's, stopped and turned to you, confused.

“Yes, ma’am?” his eyes flashes worry, seeing how you’re really scared.

“H-Help me please. I’ve been kidnapped by the man who took me here.” you said right away.

The man’s eyes widen in surprise before he looked around to check the surrounding and check which one are you referring to. Not a lot of people are around but there are some customers by the corners, enjoying their times.

He held your arm gently, “Alright miss. We will help you.” the man said and even ask if you can go with him by the lobby so they can alert the authorities about this.

You agreed without hesitation, letting him guide you back to where you walked inside along with Sunghoon.

When the two of you are about to exit the hall, you happen to meet someone half-way. You can’t explain the look at his eyes when you saw him stare at you coldly then slowly trailed his gaze over to the man who was planning to help you.

“And where do you think are you going?” his low voice quickly sent shivers all over your spine and you felt the man in front of you stiffened.

“M-Mr. Park.” he stuttered, surprised to see him staring coldly at him.

He knew him of course, and just to see him looking that way over him, he felt his knees trembling in fear. He put two into two together and its not long until he realized what he got himself into.

“Who said you can touch her?” he tilts his head, color draining his face.

Sunghoon’s mind was clouded by nothing but jealousy. Here he is, finally with you and the next thing he know, another man was holding your arm, sneaking you away. Stealing you from him. Taking you from him. It was like a trigger. Something inside him snapped.

The man was quick to let go of your arm, like as if being burned by it. Fear present over his face, beads of sweat forming over his forehead and throat starting to feel dry.

“I d-didn’t know.” he tried to defend himself and even tried to raise his hand as sign of surrender.

The man knew it was no use. Sunghoon is known for being very cruel and ruthless. Mercy doesn’t exist in his vocabulary. Once you mess with him, its already over for you. There’s no escape, feet basically buried under the grave.

Sunghoon pulled out a gun and you panicked right away as you watch him pointed it to the poor man. The people around was surprise and scared as well. Some even standing from their tables with unfinished food, getting ready to leave the place just in case.

You noticed some walke closer to see who it was, pissed expression over their faces for probably ruining their day. But once they saw who it was, their faces will turn pale and they’re quickly halt steps. Keeping a safe distance and remained silent to stay away from trouble.

“S-Sunghoon, please!” you said attempting to stop him but you are afraid too. He turned his head and stared at your scared face.

His face remained stern and emotionless. A tear fell from your eyes as you slowly shake you head at him, “You w-wouldn’t--” you shut your eyes as you suddenly crouched down at the floor as you hear him fire the gun with no hesitation.

You heard screams and the whole place then fell silent. When you open your eyes, you almost lose it when you saw the poor man’s cold body laying on the floor. You were dumbfounded and out of your senses, eyes brimming with tears. You didn’t even noticed that he walked closer and picked you up using one of his arm.

He started dragging you out of that place. The staff stayed out of the way, they look beyond horrified. Nobody dares to stop him. He walked with so much arrogance, doesn’t even bothered by what he just did.

Sunghoon was beside you, his head resting over the stirring wheel as his hands shakes for some unknown reason. His breathing were heavy and fast like as if he was trying to calm himself down.

“You k-killed him..” you managed to say when you arrived inside his car.

When it finally manage to compose yourself a bit, tears started streaming down your face. The poor man just died! And it was all your fault.

“You k-killed him! How dare you! You're a monster!” you said and started hitting him nonstop.

He grunted and held your arm to stop you from hitting him more. Your eyes met his cold ones, you can’t describe what kind of emotion was present but one thing’s for sure, he’s raging mad.

“I already warned you not to piss me off.” he hissed and you cried while staring at him.

“J-Just let me go,” your low, but desperate plea tugs something inside Sunghoon’s heart.

For a while, you saw something flickered through his eyes. It was fast but you managed to figure out what it was. Sadness? You can’t even believe someone like him are capable to feel that kind of emotion. For you, he’s heartless.

Even before you can say anything else, he covered your nose with something and you just slowly felt yourself losing consciousness.

“I love you,” he whispered softly before everything went black.

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stylinsoncity · 23 days ago

Note

Sorry if this ask is a little long. I’m going to be a little cheesy here :’)

I am an extremely avid reader: I’ve read literary classics and trashy BookTok romances and dark political satire books and NOTHING, I mean NOTHING makes me as excited to read than when I see you updating on AO3. I used to tell myself that I was just new to the fandom and getting into reading fics about my favorite artists and THAT’s why I downloaded CAYA and SEL and The Wonderlands onto my Books app where I would just reread and reread and reread. I’ve memorized some of your words at this point. Like when you’re rewatching your favorite sitcom and you’re ready to recite the next line of dialogue hahaha

I just read the first chapter of The Thrill of It All and I DEVOURED it. I reread some sentences out loud, slowly, because they were written so beautifully, with such diligence and care. I realized that moments like that are why I liked reading so much in the first place. Even though it was only around 6000 words, I’m already so amazed by the characterization and the way you’ve set the romantic and moody vibe already in the chapter.

I’m writing this ask because I went through some of your Tumblr posts and I can tell that you’re putting a teeeeeny bit of pressure on yourself to finish your works in progress and to post the ABO fic and to edit CAYA for publishing and you’re also navigating the fandom’s recent loss and all I wanted to say is that I trust your ability to put out magic like you always do, whenever it happens. You probably hear this all the time, but you have a very wonderful gift for writing. Take whatever time you need to update/write fics. I’ll patiently reread your magna opera until then! I’ll obviously miss your writing if you’re not continuing after these next two fics but please know that your works had a profound impact on me. Thank you for sharing the little corners of your beautiful mind! <3

okay well you successfully made me tear up!!

i struggle so much responding to things when they make me have Emotions because it becomes difficult to concisely express how i feel and what the message means to me. and then i worry about being wordy and ultimately not explaining myself well.

your perceptiveness and attention to my headspace is genuinely appreciated. i definitely do put quite a bit of pressure on myself. i'm anxious and a perfectionist which is an exhausting combination for so many reasons. i feel like everyone here is pretty understanding and very many are familiar with how long it takes me to update and how scatterbrained i can be. and it honestly does help for ppl to pay attn to those things. somehow it makes me feel safer being a little bit of a mess.

i'm also kind of coming to terms with having anxiety and adhd and accepting that this is how i create and that's okay. so i try to be nicer to myself but every now and then, i do get into a place of like wishing i could do a bit better, work a bit faster, etc... so what you've said honestly does help more than i can express. i really mean that! thank you so much D':

and for the lovely comments on my work... also thank you!! i'm so happy you're enjoying the thrill of it all so far.. you also just named all of my favorite children lol so i'm even more moved by this message.. i still feel like i'm not fully conveying just how moved i am!! but genuinely thank you for your support and patience and love! ily!!

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lavendertales · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet lies: Chapter 9**

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: you have to face a full afternoon with Mia, Emily and, more surprisingly, Andrea, but it turns out to be an enlightening time. Meanwhile, you and Frankie start to need more from each other.

word count: 6k

WARNINGS: face sitting, handjob, cowgirl (unsafe)

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: huge thank you to @cheshire-noir for beta reading this mess, ily. Comments & reblogs are always appreciated 💕

gif: @trashcora

series masterlist | AO3

If there was an award for ignorance, you’d be certain to win first prize.

Within the next three weeks, you have avoided Frankie like the plague. And it worked; the more you ignored, the better you felt. You needed time to process everything and to reach to a realistic conclusion, and having wandering hands with a man who was more or less still committed to another woman wasn’t the way to go.

But, with you being you and carrying some sort of karmic debt towards the universe which clearly has beef with you, the call you receive on a slightly warmer Friday evening in March takes you aback.

“Hey, are you free tomorrow?” Andrea’s surprisingly excited voice asks.

“I think so. Why?”

“Emily and Mia are coming over for dinner and drinks. You know, a girl’s night in. Wanna join us?”

The invitation leaves you dumbfounded.

“You still with me?” she asks.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Overthinking.”

“Been there.”

You both giggle, albeit the huge gap in your stomach.

“So what do you say? Are you in?”

Andrea probably needs friendly shoulders for support, and as far as she’s concerned, you are a potential friend to her. But the invitation might turn out to be something even better: an opportunity. This could be your chance to come clean to her, explain it all and hope you won’t be found murdered the next day.

“I’m in,” you smile.

“Great!”

“Do you need me to bring anything?”

“I got everything we could need, but if you feel like bringing wine or anything, no problem at all. I’m sure we’ll find great use for it.”

You giggle. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll text you the address.”

“Great. I’ll see you ladies tomorrow.”

When you hang up, you already know the kind of wine you’ll bring with you. You need something with a big percentage of alcohol. If this would be pre-drinking before a rave, you’d just be bringing a bottle of vodka to take the edge off of everyone, but given that Andrea will probably be cooking, things are likely to be a little classier than what’s going on inside your head.

Another night of restless sleep awaits you, and you can’t do much of anything the next day. After all, you are about to have dinner with the woman whose man you’ve slept with twice, and have been in love with for a decade. It’s not an easy conversation to have, but it needs to be had. And afterwards, no matter the outcome, you will talk to Frankie as well. The mess you’ve created has to be cleaned up.

You stare at the address Andrea texted you last night, realizing it’s not far from your own apartment. Five blocks away. So you decide to just walk, take advantage of the brisk air that surrounds you in the early spring. You carry with you a bottle of red wine, an expensive one, in hopes of this being a way to loosen up everyone before you have your big talk with Andrea.

You think of her in ways you normally wouldn’t. You wonder how often she’s cried herself to sleep since the break from Frankie. You wonder how often she tried calling or texting him, or thought about him in general—particularly alone at night. And you wonder what exactly prompted her to suggest the break in the first place.

Has she done something similar? Is she feeling guilty about it and needs a time-out to think about everything?

Either way, you want to find out something tonight. Anything that might ease your conscience, really.

You ring the doorbell, smelling food already. The apartment building is very nice and modest, as you fleetingly notice, standing outside the door. Then, you’re met with Andrea’s benevolent and rather radiant face.

“Hi, come on in!”

She’s wearing an apron over jeans and a blouse, and you sneak a gaze at her once you enter the apartment. She’s got no makeup on, and she looks stunning still. But there also seems to be a certain sadness in her eyes. You only know that because you see it in your eyes, too.

Mia and Emily are already there, nursing their glasses of white wine, but they get up to hug you.

“I brought some apple pie and red wine,” you say, exposing them from the bag over your shoulder.

“Mhmmm, yum,” Emily coos, taking a whiff.

“Thank you so much! You can put them on the counter.”

You do as you’re told while the girls inspect your gifts. “Whoa! This is an expensive bottle of wine!” Mia exclaims.

“Seems like a good night to open it,” you smile.

“Tell you what, if this thing with Will doesn’t work, I might call you up because you sure know how to treat a girl right.”

You raise your eyebrows, then chuckle, the sound reverberating across the place. It’s pretty spacious and modest; you walk towards Andrea, willing to make yourself useful, all while Mia pours you a glass of white wine.

“Anything I can do?” you ask Andrea.

“It’s alright, I’m almost done. Thank you.”

“Homemade lasagna and wine? You’re a treat.”

“Barely here for a few minutes and there’s already too many flirtatious comments. Save it for your partners, ladies,” Andrea teases.

“The guys aren’t here tonight.”

“Amen to that.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but sometimes they can be a bit too—“

“Testosterone-y?”

All three girls turn to look at you with an amused face.

“How on earth did you and Rose survive them?” Emily asks. “In high school, no less.”

“Well, we ignored them a lot. Then again, Benny was the one with a lot of flirtatious comments to make, so we mostly ignored him.”

Emily chuckles. “Figures.”

“They talked a big game, but they were innocent. When it came to doing anything, they were wusses.”

“Figures,” Mia giggles in her wine glass.

You take a sip of your wine as well, allowing it to travel through your stomach, veins and body, warming up your extremities.

“I really like the place, by the way,” you say cautiously. “Is it a rental?”

“It’s my cousin’s place, actually. She’s letting me stay here until things pick up. Hopefully. She’s away for the weekend, which I figured is the perfect opportunity for some girl talk.”

“Speaking of which, what’s going on between you and Frankie?” Emily intervenes. “Any updates?”

Andrea inhales, the question weighing heavily on her. You can tell she’s at a crossroads of some sort, though you are uncertain as to what it is about.

“Not really,” she finally answers with a big sigh.

Seeing her struggle, half there and half not, you go to her side and pick up the plates and utensils, smile, and start laying them on the dinner table.

“We haven’t spoken since we took the break,” she admits. “It was better this way, but I think now… I miss him.”

“Of course you do! God, I’d go crazy if Will and I were ever in this situation,” Mia says. “It’s only natural when you love someone this much.”

Andrea remains silent, and you notice that immediately. You don’t make much of it, but you do take notice. It might not be anything, while it may be something. Or maybe it’s just your mind, desperately clinging onto any hope that this messy situation will resolve itself without real intervention.

Frankie might’ve been a coward all those years ago, but you are one now too.

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about this tonight,” you intervene. “It’s a girl’s night. We’re here to have amazing food, curtesy of Andrea, drink wine and laugh.”

“She’s absolutely right. No boy talk tonight,” Andrea smiles in agreement.

“Maybe some boy talk,” Mia grins devilishly.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Hmm. Let’s see, how about… what’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”

The other girls, including you, make a face, although visibly intrigued by the premise.

“No preparation, just straight to it, huh? Not sure we should disclose such sensitive information though,” you say.

“Come on! It’s good fun.”

“You forget I don’t have any experience with any of the guys.”

Mia frowns. “Really? So you and Santi never—?”

You roll your eyes, taking another sip of your wine. “First of all, I am too sober for this conversation, and second of all, no, we never went that far.”

“I would’ve at least fooled around a bit,” Mia shrugs. “Lord knows that’s one of my very first experiences with Will.”

“Okay, but you have to have a best sex story.”

“What if I don’t?”

The statement makes all the girls stare at you momentarily, the silence installing itself in between the four of you.

“Wait, you’ve never—are you—?” Mia dares ask, realizing she might’ve overstepped her boundaries. “If you are, it’s totally cool.”

“No, no. It’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever had that kind of uh… mind-blowing sex you keep replaying when you’re in a dry spell and stuff.”

You gulp, hoping there is no transparency about yourself as you make that claim. For safety measures, you avoid eye contact with Andrea in the meantime.

“Never?” Emily checks, blushing herself.

“I’m guessing if I were to ask either of you…”

“Yeah, gonna have to go with Benny. The man’s a wild card in the sack.”

You purse your lips together, hoping all of this information will be erased by tomorrow.

“Will might be stoic and all, but let me tell you—“

“In as little detail as you can, please,” you smile.

There is flustered laughter shared amongst the four of you. “So Benny and Will, without hesitation,” you recap.

“Yes.”

“Andy?”

All eyes turn to Andrea, with the latter inhaling deeply, then exhaling.

“It is safe to assume it’s Frankie, right?”

“Of course.”

You drink from your wine, avoiding eye contact with her, even though your stomach nearly chews itself from all the pressure and adrenaline running wild in your body. You’re unsure, but you think you might’ve detected hesitation on Andrea’s part, or at least a guilt-filled sip of wine as she said that. Something in you tells you that it can’t be just pre-wedding jitters that made Andrea suggest that break.

You know that if it were you, you’d never want a break from Frankie, ever. Even under tremendous stress.

“He can get very into it,” Andrea grins, her cheeks flushed. “He’s still Frankie, so there’s laughter sometimes and all that, but other times… especially when he goes down on you. He’s so into it, you nearly black out every time.”

“No way!”

“Swear to God.”

While Mia and Emily exclaim and cheer in the most appreciative manner, you do your best to not choke on the wine. Memories of Frankie’s mouth devouring you overcome you, and your cheeks get just as flushed.

Argument could be made that you’re rather using the moment of bonding to your advantage before you give the strike, but the truth is, you just want things to go well before you can steal a moment of privacy with Andrea and confess your sins. You know Frankie is struggling a lot right now, at least you think he is, and it’s likely a little more time will pass until he takes matters into his own hands and confesses.

The feminist in you wants to get to it first.

“What’s going on with Rose and Santi?” Andrea asks cheekily sometime after the third glass of wine. “They seem to have hit it off.”

“Oh, they really hit it off. Went over to Rose’s place last week to invite her for a spontaneous coffee and heard sounds I’d much rather forget.”

Andrea chuckles. “You know how it is when you first get together with someone. All that tension, laughter and all that.”

You gulp, feeling your throat drier than when you began drinking, so you finish your drink, ensuring you remain on the second glass.

“Haven’t you ever had someone like that?” she asks you boldly. “Someone who gets your heart racing so fast you doubt you’re even breathing? Someone with whom you’d unleash your nastiest and neediest sounds?”

Again you gulp, purposely holding your breath for as long as you can.

“I hope I can have that someday,” you say. “I hope I can freely release my nastiest, neediest sounds one day without having to hold back, or… fearing that I shouldn’t.”

Mia and Emily giggle, but Andrea only smiles at you, the mimic fairly bittersweet. You’re pretty sure you’re outing yourself with those not-so-cryptic words, but so far Andrea remains a wonderful hostess.

Rose’s words coo in your head now: “You won’t say that after you try being indecent once or twice in your life.” Oh, but you have been indecent; twice now, even thrice, and while it may make you feel alive, it also makes you guilt-riddled. It’s not technically cheating, but it’s not exactly clean, either. Andrea might still choose to return to Frankie, by the looks of it, and when that will happen, all of this would’ve been just a big, horrible mistake you will have to live with for the rest of your life.

The topic of love and lust, you avoid as much as you can for the next couple of hours while the girls happily exchange such information and get tipsy. You dare to have a third glass of wine, but that is where you cut yourself off. You do not need another drunken encounter with a certain someone or regrettable drunken choices.

You watch bemusedly as Mia and Emily sneak in the rest of the wine bottle to go to the balcony and giggle over their respective partners, which leaves you and Andrea alone. If there was ever any chance, this is it. So you take a deep breath, steadying yourself, and initiate the much dreaded conversation.

“Can I ask you something? It’s a bit personal,” you warn.

“Of course.”

“Why did you want to take a break from Frankie? You guys seem so happy together.”

Andrea looks at you, her face dropping in the slightest, and she puts her glass away.

“Before I got into medical school, I was a bit of a wild card. Both of my parents are esteemed people with big reputations, intimidating… there was a lot of pressure on me, so I lashed out. Drinking, partying, sleeping around… haven’t exactly made the right choices. But I was interested in medicine, so when I told them that I wanted to go to medical school, they were thrilled. They’ve made their terms pretty clear: school, fellowship, getting my life together, and then finding someone nice, get married, settle down with a good reputation and a wonderful husband. Or wife. They were so desperate to see me settled down that they were okay with even that. If you knew my parents, you’d know how serious that is.”

You giggle, putting your glass away too.

“As faith would have it, I met Frankie during my first years in medical school. I was working at a bar to pay some of my tuition off We instantly became friends, and I liked him. I’ve grown to love him. I learned to love him. And I still do. He’s warm and kind and sweet… everything a good, real man should be.”

“Then what…?”

You fail to see the point, until you finally do. You see it all over Andrea’s face, and in that moment, the sympathy you feel for her aches as much as you do.

“This is not what you really want, is it?” you whisper.

“I know it’s what I should want, because I do love him,” she replies. “But it’s just not quite… right, you know? Does any of this make even the slightest sense? Without me sounding like a horrible person?”

You nod. “He’s not the big love of your life like your parents have advertised. He’s not that feeling of… home, not really. Love should feel like you’re coming home, in all of its coziness and warmth.”

“Yes! So you know what I’m talking about.”

“I have a slight idea.”

Andrea smiles at you, seemingly a little eased, but it only grows your restlessness and anxiety.

“I’ve done some mistakes in the past, and I have done some recent mistakes too,” she says, voice breaking. “I am by no means proud of them, but… I will make things right. I’m just afraid it might be too late. I think I should stick this out, see it through. My parents were over the moon about me and Frankie and they practically set the whole engagement up. So doing this… it’s the right thing.”

Your first instinct is to grab her hand, squeeze it and thus reassure her, and Andrea seems baffled as you do so. But you don’t pull away. You want her to know that you do not mean to hurt her, in any way. Even if it’s through one simple touch.

“It’s not the right thing if it has you feeling this way,” you tell her. “It’s not, because this is not how you want things to be. If anything, it’s… unfair. But—do you want to see this through?”

Just as she smiles brightly at you, you see her face change, causing you more nervousness.

“I have to,” she answers, though you have difficulty believing her. “My parents can be very intimidating, as I said. And if this wedding doesn’t take place in June… I’ll be that wild teenager again, incapable of making the proper choices.”

“You aren’t.”

“Can I ask you something?”

You gulp, then nod. You’ve never felt more paralyzed in your whole life.

“Frankie told me about you, how close you guys were in high school,” she starts. “I can only assume he fucked up things.”

“Why?”

“The way he was so determined to avoid even looking at you? That is textbook guilty Frankie Morales. He’s like a puppy, either his eyes get too big and wet that you can’t resist them and he clings to you, or he avoids you altogether.”

You break into laughter, much to your own surprise. “Sounds about right.”

“So what did he do?”

“He uh… he stopped talking to me a few months after I moved abroad. No warning, nothing. He just… left.”

“That must’ve hurt like hell. I’m sure you care about him very much.”

“I did.”

“And now?”

You falter, afraid once again that you are painfully obvious. But maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this is the push you need.

“I still care about him,” you confess. “It doesn’t just go away.”

“I figured as much.”

“Andrea… I’m sorry.”

She stares at you like you’ve gone completely crazy, and maybe you did, but you need at least one win for today. You need at least the apology to come out of your mouth, otherwise you won’t ever forgive yourself.

“I am so sorry,” you repeat, eyes teary.

“What are you apologizing for?” she asks with a little adorable chuckle.

“Just… I’m sorry. Sometimes I care too much. That’s why I like to keep people at bay, it’s easier. But I do care. I care so much, it—it haunts me.”

The way she stares at you while you’re on the verge of mental collapse is more than just sympathetic. It’s understanding. You’re waiting for her to explode, to confront you or anything similar because there is no possible way she does not intuit, in the slightest, what you’re talking about, but the reaction never comes.

But you do get something you wouldn’t have thought of. Andrea leans in and hugs you, and a tear rolls down your cheek in spite of your best efforts to conceal it. You’re in too much shock to speak, but it might be for the best right now. You relish into the hug, reciprocating, crying silently.

When you make eye contact with her again, she wipes your cheek, and you tremble.

“Why are you crying?” she asks, like your reaction is the one that’s ridiculous.

“I am not an evil person. I don’t mean harm, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I didn’t want it to happen this way, not at all. I should’ve stopped it earlier, way earlier. I am so sorry. If caring for someone makes you an idiot, I am the biggest idiot on this planet.”

Andrea hugs you again, rubbing your back gently in the process. You hadn’t expected that reaction out of you, but you suppose that all of what you’ve been hiding has been so bottled up, it was bound to be released under one form or the other.

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate,” she tries to coax you.

“A smidge.”

You both laugh, in spite of everything that’s eating at you, and she wipes your cheeks again, staring at you in the most serious way.

“You can’t blame yourself for caring about someone,” she says, and you instantly nod your head.

“Andrea, it’s more than that. It’s—haunting. It’s consuming me.”

“Love makes us all idiots. But it’s not a crime to care, even like this.”

You try to clear your head, and you downright stare at her, trying to see if the nonsensical stuff you’ve muttered so far makes any sense for her.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m getting at here,” you say, heart in your throat.

Andrea smiles, and it is the most bittersweet gesture you have ever seen in your life.

“It’s okay,” she says, leaving you dumbfounded.

“It’s not! Frankie and I—“

She holds your hands, looking right at you. “You don’t have to say it.”

Your eyes widen in panic. Blood goes cold in your veins, and your whole body freezes “You know?”

“Not know know, but Frankie’s spent too much time and energy into making sure he’s not even sitting around you for me not to guess that something’s up. You guys were best friends in high school. Things couldn’t have turned out so bad that you were this distant.”

“Andrea—“

“Don’t. We’re not together right now. We’re separated.”

“I know, but still…”

“I know Frankie, and sometime soon, he’s gonna burst through that door and ramble on about… whatever it is.”

You frown, shaking your head. You’re more confused than before; this doesn’t feel like relief. It feels more puzzling and trickier than what you’ve been dealing with so far.

“How the hell are you so composed and down to earth right now?” you ask her.

Andrea doesn’t respond. That, in return, brews potential answers in your mind, ones that you do not want to confront her about. This is a conversation to be had between partners, and your part is more or less done, in spite of its anti-climactic result.

Either she’s the coolest person on this planet, or there’s something even worse in the middle.

“You guys should really see the sky, it’s full of stars!” Emily announces all of a sudden.

A while after that, you’re all on the balcony, admiring Boston’s skyline, clear and filled with nothing but stars. There’s not much you say after that; but your mind, your restless mind, it spins and works overtime, filled with endless questions.

Quite frankly, you’re surprised at yourself. Sitting here, in front of this door, at this hour, it also feels cheap, but you’ve practically gotten that boulder off your chest, and now you’re guided solely by your emotions. You’ve never truly acted on impulse, especially not when it came to how you are feeling, but now seems a good time as any.

You knock several times, waiting restlessly. When the door finally opens and you’re greeted by Frankie’s fluffy, messy hair and his puzzled gaze, you brace yourself. You walk right by him, inside of the apartment that he shared with Andrea less than two months ago, and you’re feeling both bold and insane.

“I lied,” you open your speech, staring right back at a very confused Frankie.

“What?”

“You saw right through me. I can’t lie to you, I never could. I could lie to everyone but you.”

Frankie braces himself, half curious as to where you’re headed with all that, and half dumbfounded already.

“So here it is,” you say, advancing to him. “I do love you. I’ve loved you since I was eighteen years old, and I am damn sure I will love you when I will be seventy eight. You are the love of my life. You are the reason why none of the relationships or flings or flirts that I have had in the past ten years have worked. I don’t blame you, or even myself. It’s… chemistry. It doesn’t just go away. And believe me, I—I have tried. Oh, how I’ve tried. I have tried… so fucking hard, it exhausted me. It drained me, mentally and emotionally. Loving you is both the best and worst thing that could’ve happened to me. So I am here, telling you that I love you with every fiber of my being because I know you love me too. And because I want you to make an informed decision.”

He frowns, hung onto every word you just spewed at him ever so passionately and intensely.

“I want you to have all the facts before you decide how the rest of your life will go,” you continue, breathless yourself. “Which is why I’m asking you—“

“To choose you.”

You stare at each other, emotions vibrant in your chests.

“No,” you tell him sharply, shakily. “I am asking you to man up, get your shit together and talk to Andrea. We can’t keep doing this, not like this. We can’t pretend it doesn’t mean anything because it does.”

“I know.”

His voice is soft and understanding, and that in return breaks you in unexpected ways. You reckon, at this moment, he’s just as overwhelmed as you are, if not more.

“Talk to her,” you resume. “Because each time you leave, you chip a little more at my heart and I’m not sure how much more she can handle. Every time you walk out the door, away from me, you find a new way to hurt me, and I have to relive it all over again.”

“I never wanted that. It kills me to do it, I just—“

“I know, I get it. I do. What I said before, all of it… it’s true. And I only said it because tonight was weird and emotional as fuck, and I am done hiding and lying and pretending like none of it was ever real. It hurts me, it hurts you, and it hurts Andrea too.”

“I know. I had to go, though. Last time we—I had to.”

“And I understand that. But I need you to understand me, too. I’m not a homewrecker or a cheater. Neither are you.”

Frankie is barely breathing by this point, even less so when he feels your breath on his face, your presence both soothing and startling.

“Andrea and I are separated now,” he mutters, feeling his mental faculties weaken with each second spent in your presence.

“I know. But it doesn’t really diminish what we’re doing here.”

“You—you control me.”

You back away momentarily, examining his face with dismay. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you nearly mock him.

“You do,” Frankie pushes. “You absolutely fucking do. I belong to you. You think I don’t want to be a better man? You think that I don’t want to dedicate myself completely to Andrea, to our engagement and our life together? You don’t think I want to be the honorable man you left?”

You snicker, feeling the pinnacle of the evening finally settling in at its most emotional moment.

“I didn’t leave you. It was the other way around, if you’ve forgotten.”

“I could never forget the worst thing I’ve ever done! Fuckin’ Pope won’t let me forget it, but he has no fucking clue that I am my own worst enemy, and nothing he could ever tell me about that decision to cut you out of my life could compare to the hatred that I have for myself. Nothing, ever.”

You watch him breathless, eyes teary once more, but not from regret. Not this time.

“I love you,” Frankie mutters, clinging onto your hands like he’s drowning and they’re a life vest. “I am so in love with you, you have no idea. I am so sorry for being too much of a coward to tell you back then, but I am telling you now, at the worst possible time… I love you. You’re the love of my life. My heart’s so full of you, I can’t really call it my own anymore. My every feeling is controlled by the look on your face, by the sound of your voice and the way you breathe. I, I for one… I can’t breathe when you’re not here. Feels like I’ve been holding my breath and drowning for the past ten years.”

“Francisco…”

The moment your forehead touches his, you know you’re a goner. But you both need this, you both need to feel this moment as deeply as the words cutting you.

“In two months you’ve managed to bring me back to life and destroy me at the same time,” he breathes. “I can’t sleep, I’m—I’m useless without you. I watch for you, I exist for you. I wanna just… be free. Be free with you.”

“So do it,” you say, your touch featherlight on his cheek. “Prove that everything you just told me is true. I don’t wanna hide, I don’t wanna break Andrea’s heart, and I don’t wanna sleep with you in a hurry, with our pants barely down.”

“I’ll make things right. I’ll make things right by you, by her, by everyone. I fucking swear.”

He cups your cheeks, pulling you in and simply holding you. When you gaze at him, you notice the tears in his eyes, the exasperation in them, all of it. You crumble on the spot.

“I told Andrea,” you say.

He frowns in the slightest. “You did?”

“Kind of. It was very weird. Still not sure she knew what I meant, but she seemed sure the two of you would talk soon. But I did, anyway. Now it’s your turn.”

He nods frantically, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on your lips that you know you should be rejecting, but God, it feels so soft and caring you can’t help it. You can’t push away, not anymore; you simply can’t, not for the life of you.

So you kiss him tenderly, like all the time in the world is at your feet. You kiss him deeply, your mouth a hot furnace emanating sheer desperation albeit the rather gentle moment. He feels it, too; he feels it all through the way your body is glued to his, and he finally allows himself to live in the moment, to enjoy this moment in all of its inhibitory and needy glory.

He lets himself fall on the couch, with you atop of him, your hair tingly over his face and your warm breath a gentle awakening that yes, this is in fact happening, and yes, he’d been granted a second chance to make things right—even if it’s complicated and messy. He lets your hands roam over his body, relishing in the way they settle right above his crotch and the tantalizing way you make eye contact with him. He gives you no indications as to what his intentions are, and yet he is still shook when you seemingly read his mind.

Frankie watches in a blurry haze as you dispose of the clothes that cover up your upper half, realizing that he’s never actually seen you naked. He can’t help the appreciative sigh which leaves his watering mouth, nor can he help the way his calloused hands lift you up halfway in an attempt to help you undress completely. Then, you return the favor and help him undress as well, your emotions all over the place as you gaze at the marvelous body now exposed before you.

Frankie instantly begins to press kisses over your neck and collarbones, and, since the day has been weird and challenging enough, you reach below, wrapping your hand around his cock and watching his face contort in mixtures of pleasure and pain alike.

His moans are growing with each stroke you give him, and you are absolutely enamored by the way he looks and sounds. You still don’t feel well about the whole situation, given that it remains unclear, but then why does this feel so incredibly satisfying?

He’s trying his hardest to stay conscious, but when you lean down below to play with his balls, he grunts louder than ever before, eyes closed and head backwards in the most forbidden ecstasy.

You don’t get through with it, though; next thing you know, Frankie’s hands grip the flesh of your thighs, shifting you so that your core is on his face. You hold your breath, panicking in the slightest. You’ve never done this before and you’re not sure you’re capable of handling it.

“Frankie—“

“It’s okay. I got you.”

Breathless, you watch him press you all the way onto his face. You let out an exceptionally loud moan, much to your own surprise, the sensation of his tongue lapping at your folds unlike what you’ve felt before. From this angle, as your cunt rests on his whole face, it feels like he’s drinking straight from you. You can feel him everywhere, from your cunt, all the way to your thighs and the way he’s grabbing them and the way his cock is resting hard against his stomach. Heat spreads dangerously under your skin, nesting in your veins as his mouth diligently eats you out. You think of how hungry and insatiable he is for you, how utterly needy, and you damn near lose your mind.

The little voice at the back of your head returns with the same famished more. You need more, you need… him, completely. So you rip your own pleasure away from your body, rubbing down his body till your hand curls around his cock and guides it to your soaked entrance.

That first push through your walls is maddening. You both moan as you start moving in circles, having Frankie watch you, absolutely mesmerized. He holds you closely, and after a little while he even reaches to your face to kiss you. It’s such a rush, being inside of you and kissing you, holding you so close. In this moment, as he starts to thrust upwards to meet with the movements of your hips, he never wants to leave you or see you go, ever again. All he wants to know is the taste of your lips, the heat of your pussy and the unilateral breaths as you try to steady yourself while you’re on top of him.

You can finally feel the day’s tension weighing heavily on you, residing deep within your bones. Because now you finally allow yourself to let it all go, and when you feel your muscles contracting, your walls fluttering around Frankie, your mind suddenly goes blank with a peculiar clarity.

You come with a loud cry, and so does Frankie, mere seconds after you. He helps you ride out your orgasm by pressing his torso to yours, kissing you messily in between. You then cup his cheeks, staring at him with the goofiest smile on your face.

“Stay,” he asks you. “Just tonight, till it all blows over.”

Frankie’s barely moving inside of you, but he still is nonetheless, and it’s definitely impacting his decision-making skills at this point.

“Okay,” you concede, just as he’s pulling out with a slight grunt.

You kiss him sweetly, the seal of your lips pressed together a promise of a better tomorrow.

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ifyougoillfollow · 24 days ago

Text

Fic Writer Interview

Oooh, this looks fun! Thanks @plusultraetc for tagging me!

-- How many works do you have on AO3?

16. Huh. Didn’t think it was that many tbh. Yay me? :D

-- What's your total AO3 word count?

97,793! Almost 100k! Yipee!

Fun Fact: Before my latest fic, it was at a nice, very satisfying 88,888. I’d like to say that’s why it took me over a year to upload another fic, but well. I’d be lying lolol.

-- What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

a definite sign of what we will be (someday)

be my fictional obsession (my newest daydream)

you know i make you wanna scream

like sugar and cyanide

like heaving through corrupted lungs (‼)

(^ Didn’t think she’d make the cut! Proud of her!!)

-- Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I love responding to comments!! It’s a wonderful excuse to ramble about my writing and share my thoughts about my beloved blorbos with like-minded souls. Unfortunately, I am. Shy. I’m usually good at responding when a fic first drops because the sheer adrenaline/euphoria of finally posting something propels me out of my shell, but once that wears out. Help.

I do read and cherish every single comment I receive tho - and I’m very lucky to receive such thoughtful comments, too! Just know that if you’ve ever commented on any of my fic – ily <33

-- What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Uh. All of them? Aldkjfskfj okay, that’s a lie, but tbh it’d be easier to point at the ones that don’t have kinda bummer endings. I love me some angst. :3

The title for Angstiest def has to go to ‘friend make sense of me’ tho. Yowch.

-- What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Oh, ‘be my fictional obsession’ for sure. Although ‘strawberry soju' is a strong contender, ultimately ‘bmfo’ is simply Sillier, so she takes the crown. :3

-- Do you write crossovers?

Not really! Though I have toyed around with writing AUs in other settings, the most recent of which is a BBC Merlin AU, which, let me tell you, has been tons of fun, even if I’ll probably never get around to finishing it lol.

-- Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I was about to say no because everyone has always been so lovely to me, but then I remembered that one person who bookmarked ‘like sugar and cyanide’ only to call it ‘lame’ for being self-indulgent and not ending with EraserMic getting together. Which was kinda funny ngl, because, like, my guy. The Unresolved Romantic Tension is right there in the tags, and also I repeatedly dunk on myself for being self-indulgent in just about every chapter note, so like, move along, sister, this is not the fic you’re looking for lmaoo.

-- Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope! Love me some innuendo and crass humor, but the most I ever see myself doing is a fade to black or maybe some vague allusion to the act (← see, I just did it), because it is simply not my cup of tea.

-- Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but I’d be open to it for sure!

-- Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Another no, though I’m not sure I’d be a good fit for it tbh. I’m a bit precious about my writing process. 😅

-- What's your all-time favorite ship?

Oh god, this is a Question. I mean, I have to say EraserMic given how much of my (fan) life it has consumed these past years, even if I do have some complicated, and at times contentious, thoughts and feelings about it.

QPR MicNight is right up there, though! I have just as complex and much less contentious feelings about QPR MicNight, my beloved. <3

I have so many QPR MicNight WIPs, you guys. One of these days, I’ll even finish one. orz

-- What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

CRIES. ALL OF THEM.

Okay, non-dramatic answer is ‘as the mists roll in at midnight,’ which is a WIP I started and finished outlining back in 2021 (it even got a title!) and then never got past the second chapter.

It’s a sort of house horror AU, featuring EraserMic, QPR MicNight, unexplained happenings in the woods, and a haunted inn that just wants to keep you safe. I love it so so much that I kind of got overwhelmed by my love for it, and thus my need for it to be perfect, and now I fear I shall never get back to it. </3

The same is true for so many of my WIPs, if I’m being honest. Shout out to Midnight Time Loop AU, ‘a song for a song,’ and ‘you know i make you wanna scream,’ the latter of which is the reason I no longer post multi-chap WIPs. rip.

-- What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and narrative voice. I get so many niceys comments on both, especially my narrative voice for Mic, which makes my heart do a happy dance every time. :)

-- What are your writing weaknesses?

Establishing and describing setting, unfortunately. The struggle to not end up with characters talking and introspecting in The Void all the time is real. OTL

Also there's the more technical stuff like my abuse of adverbs, em-dashes, and run-on sentences, as well as my point-blank refusal to kill my darlings at times, but I like to chalk all that up to Style, Vibes, and This Hobby is Supposed to Be Fun, Damnit, so we don't count any of that. :3

-- What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

No strong thoughts in particular, just the usual 'as long as it's done well' caveat. Though I do like when honorifics and such are sprinkled in here and there, hence why I tend to do so in my fic. I find it serves as a helpful reminder that these characters are Japanese, and thus hopefully helps to stave off some of that dreaded, inevitable Americanization of everything.

-- What was the first fandom you wrote for?

BNHA, which, let me tell you, came as a surprise not just to me, but also to anyone who knows me irl. I was famously Not Very Much Into Anime for most of my life. Go figure.

-- What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

BBC Merlin!

I watched (and was obsessed with) the show way back when, but have only recently gotten into the fandom, and good GOD has it been a struggle to not hop right in to writing fic for it, especially for Gwen/Morgana, my beloved toxic yuri queens. Only reason I haven’t is because I’m loathe to add to my already heaping WIP pile.

-- What's your favorite fic you've written?

Oof, this is a hard one.

‘strawberry soju’ has my heart right now because it felt like such a different undertaking than most of my previous work (it’s a 9k, non-linear, Aizawa POV one-shot! There’s actual kissing in it!) and also because I learned a lot while working on it. I didn’t have a real outline when I started writing, only a premise, one or two strong images of interactions I wanted to include, and several themes I wanted to touch on. It was a struggle working with such bare bones at times, but I'm glad I kept at it, because I'm proud of how much of the core themes and concepts came through in the final result.

However. If I’m being honest, my real answer to this question is the fic I wrote for Something Just Like This, an EraserMic zine I contributed to that is currently in production. I wrote that fic back in February, and it’s been absolute hell not being able to share it this whole time because I’m just so goddamn proud of it!! I won’t say anything else because I could go on forever about it and I’m contractually obligated to not spill the beans, but GOD I can’t wait for you all to read it. 🥺

Okay, that's enough yapping for now, but this was so much fun!! Thanks again for tagging me! <3

As for me, I'll tag @scream-mans-friend (no pressure!!) and anyone else who wants to take a crack at this. c:

#there's def more people i'd like to tag but i wasn't kidding when i said i'm shy 😭😭#tag games

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a-kaash-me-outside · 2 years ago

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toriiii babe (｡•́︿•̀｡) i have no other words to utter but

the last chapter is freakin beautiful.

first of all, the scene where we was waking up, and you using the five senses?? that. was. freakin. good. i read it before i got out of my bed and it really felt like i was in there. like i was sucked into that world that you created and all i can feel is warmth and contentment. i also love that you included tsumu's pov. when he said, “good mornin, pretty.” lemme tell you, i absolutely MELTED. i really love this scene because it's intimate and romantic, contrary to the events that happened the night before. (not to say that i didn't like it. i certainly did!! but this is a different kind of good, if i'm making sense?)

then their lighthearted banter about tsumu's back?? and we was bein confident again?? and reminded tsumu about doing that again but this time, really slow and really hard?? man, my insides turned into jelly!! it's a wonder how tsumu was able to keep his composure at all.

and then the bed scene ugh i LOVE it!! love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it love it and the baby endearment??? and tsumu bein a thigh enthusiast??? OH MY GOODNESS *chef's kiss*

then came their vulnerable moment. lemme tell you, babe, i was tearing up when i was reading that (つ﹏<。) i can relate to reader's worries and fears. tsumu is... idk an uncharted territory?? he established early on that he wasn't the second date type of guy, and falling for that kind of guy IS scary bc we might just get hurt in the end. but i am glad, i am so GLAD that tsumu realized that he loves us when we was still with him in that bed and did not let go of us. otherwise, i think we would be consumed by our doubts regarding our relationship with him, and we would just... run away (i think). i just about lost it when this line came up, "you keep coming up with excuses, not because you want him to agree with them, but because you want him to keep disputing them." this line hit differently, babe. it just him me right in the feels and through my core. and then this part?? “i’m not doing any of that without you,” he says, pauses, and then adds, “if you’d keep me around.” !!!!!!!!!! it's the perfect and the only right response to what we was being anxious about. and then the okay part??? the scenarios that followed right after??? i was sobbing while reading it all *sniffles* it's beautiful, tori, i could not have asked for a better ending.

now, about the maki ending... i really tried my best to read it. i really did. i even thought that i would be rooting for them when i read ch 7.5 but when i read ch. 8.5, and saw how hurt and confused tsumu was. i couldn't take it *nervous laughter* when he said “i let you meet my fucking brother.” i had to stop. i mean, i love angst, i usually have it for breakfast, but ig not today?? or not to this degree, bc i saw myself in tsumu, and my greatest fear is being rejected after i've been vulnerable with someone. that's why i'm afraid that i cannot give ch 8.5 the love that it deserves (╯_╰)

also, i apologize for my late ask (^^;) it's been a not-so-good day so i waited til after work so that i could give my full attention, energy, and honest thoughts about your wonderful work. twrt has been my motivation and comfort for the past 6 weeks, and it's always been a pleasure reading it. that's why i'm extremely grateful that you shared this with us although it's originally intended for your fiancé's eyes only.

so, thank you, thank you, thank you for this, tori bub ♡ and i am looking forward to the epilogue, and to your next tsumu fic!! AND the osamu fic that you've been teasing us~ enjoy your vacation in barcelona~!! muah!! ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶

oh my goshshshshshhh. babe hi. ily. i just cannot COMMUNICATE ENOUGH how much not just THIS ONE but every single ask and tag and message and comment of yours has MEANT. thank you for following along and pointing everything out that you love because it’s just made me so happy and excited abt my own writing and stuff too T-T

i’m super super looking forward to every one reading the epilogue and hope everyone loves it (esp you ily) and AH YEA. i’m gonna enjoy my vacation it’s gonna be great and beautiful >:) hehehe. ily ily

#shut up tori #asks!#twrt convo!#megumi!

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hawkinsindiana · 2 years ago

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kenny. KENNY.

i’m only halfway-ish through the newest chapter and oh my god you’ve rendered me speechless. (and yet, here i am rambling 💀) i honestly am truly jealous of your talent and your ability to describe and encapsulate such raw emotion, especially considering the source material really just.. doesn’t like showing vulnerability like that? it’s honestly so beautiful i can’t even begin to let you know how touching it is.

there are so many things i absolutely have adored so far but there are two that i really want to talk about. first off, it seemed like such a small detail, but claudia welcoming back the hendersons and steve warmed my cold little heart. i loved that you actually included them returning home. it made it flow so well. ANDDD, oh my god. claudia including steve when she was all somber and said “my boys” :(( ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?

the other thing was i absolutely adored the undressing/shower scene between steve and the reader. i know a lot of writers on here would’ve taken the opportunity to weave some sort of smutty scene in there (which, is totally fine! i’m a slut as much as the next gal!) but i think because you acknowledge the fact that they’re just so tired and emotional means that they don’t even have the privilege to think such dirty thoughts made their relationship even more.. secure? real? endgame? to me.

anyways, i’m not even finished reading, but i really wanted to get my thoughts out there before i inevitably forget because your writing always makes my head go fuzzy with how intricate and wonderful it is.

i’m very excited for the finale whenever it arrives. keep up the great work!!

much love, ali :)

p.s. this was not proof read so please ignore any errors. i’m writing like a gremlin so i can get back to reading HAHA

oh my goodness ali thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart this comment has made me so happy :’) here is an absolutely MASSIVE hug but it’d if it’ll do my feelings justice 😭 THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH ILY

#i love hearing what you have to say every time :’)#i love knowing you enjoy it and are having fun while reading #comments like these seriously keep me sane on this website #THANK YOU AGAIN ILY!!!!!!#asks!

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writemywaytoyourheart · 2 years ago

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CHAPTER SEVEN OF BEDEVILED WAS MY FAVORITE SO FAR! I was always wondering why she kept her cardigan on but now it makes so much sense. I love your story and am so happy you're sharing it with us, I can't wait for the next part ◡̈

First of all, thank you for being so patient as I waited to answer these asks that contain spoilers 💕

YESS CHAPTER 7 IS ONE OF MY FAVS TOO HAHA 😄

Thank you so much for letting me share it with you guys! Your asks and comments and messages are what keeps me going, knowing that I am truly making a difference for some people 💜💜

ILY 🫂

-chip

#asks #anon

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coolbeesbro · 1 year ago

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bro i haven’t used tumblr in like 6 months and idk how it works but i just need to tell u that in 2021 i religiously read letters to luca from like chapter 6 until the end and i would like read the updates when they came out n stuff and it was rlly good shit but bro there are two chapters left and i know it was like 2 years ago but i really need u to know that if you ever wanted to write those last two chapters that would be great idk your life and idk why you stopped writing it and it’s not my businuess but like bro i would actually do anything for u to just update it like one last time yk it was like the first fanfic i read which is crazy anyways hope i didn’t bother you and do whatever you want i’m not tryna force you you can do whatever but i’m jus saying it would be cool bro 👍 have a good life ily

Hello! I cannot express enough how much it means to me to hear my story was important enough for you to come onto Tumblr and reach out to me. I'm sorry for the late reply but I never got a notification for this and just stumbled across it in my notifications feed.

The thing is, part of me really does want to at least just finish this part of the series idea I had, but another part of me just can't get back that spark of inspiration that led me to write it in the first place. I'm hoping to one day get back to it, because all the comments I got on it showed me how impactful what I wrote was for people.

I know first hand how much a simple fanfic can help people get through stuff, because I still have like 8 individual stories open on my browser and revisit them whenever I need that little burst of nostalgic dopamine they gave me originally.

So I guess all's this to say, I really do hope to finish it at some point, but my inspiration just faded for it and I'm waiting to get it back. I really appreciate you reaching out about it though, and I hope for your sake and others that I get that spark back again soon. Thank you again for reaching out to me, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

#letters to luca fic

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mocha000 · 6 months ago

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"Ahhhh for the Yoongi and the m/c smutt, there is actually Yoongi mc smutt in this next chapter and then the one after that! I’m so happy I can deliver you something you want twice in a row! There is…a plot twist…that I think you will enjoy and scream over- I am trying not to pop a knot about it lol" OOH OK! I CANT WAIT AHH! (the "pop a knot" part is making me so excited!! omg) "Honestly, I feel like Jimin is just vibrating out of his skin with how much he loves being next to the m/c and Tae in that section like- just a happy pup, would be wagging his tail if he had one." Awww.

"I wasn’t sure if people remembered the bralette- I really wanted there to be a scene prior to Tae coming out where she tried it on and cried and the m/c kissed her tears away but I never ended up putting it in all the way back in those chapters but!!! Maybe in version two!" Ooh yes please!

"Honestly don’t worry about the playlist too much, I read really fast so while I did try and time the playlist I knew that no matter how much I tried to make it just right or order the songs- there would be people who didn’t read at the same speed or walked away and came back to it! It’s more just for reference than to be actually playing while the story goes on <3" Ohh ok! I thought that I read fast but im not fast enough here lol

"I’ve toyed a little with wondering if Tae and the m/c’s wedding should actually happen on screen in a later chapter- probably a flash forward several years in advance. Do people want to see that happen?" yes yes yes need ahhh. "It’s a pretty unremarkable chapter but I think the scene that we see Jimin kill that lady for the first time is chapter 29!" ohhh. oops yeah i think that i remember it.

"Unrelated but rosario is actually the song that inspired bily the most, I listened to it first at the very beginning of writing it just when it came out and yeah- can probably say I’ve listened to that song at one point editing every chapter." ooh! "Jks mouth has definitely been dirtier places JUST SAYING-" lolll

"Thank you once again for another special comment <3 I truly value all that you have to say and thank you for reading my story and sharing your thoughts with me!! You never fail to be the first person who comments and I always look forward to it <3" Aww ily 💜💜

Before I Leave You (Pt.70)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The one where the pack goes on a group bender.

Tags: Fluff, only a little hurt mostly just comfort, scenting, bathing, drinking, drunk characters, recovery from past abused, nightmares, trans! tae, dress up, girl on girl fluff, omegaspace, themes of forgiveness, vomiting, eating disorder mention but everything's good, Brief implied sexual content, Talks of mental disorders, murder,

W/c: 12.6k

Note: The part where it links to a playlist on youtube may be a little distracting if you do not like to read with loud music on! feel free to skip it and then go back to listen to it <3 although it is not the first song in the playlist- hot to go by chappell roan is the unofficial official song of the chapter <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The pack spends the next three days getting drunk off their asses and trying their hardest to forget the last 3 weeks. Everything since you and Hobi found that body at the beach all those weeks ago.

There are no police officers at the door, no red and blue lights that cloud the air, or tense words spat between you. No plans devilish or delightful. Sometimes there are thin bands of sunlight that slip through the blinds and that's a big event. Other times- the big kitchen light shines brighter than any sun. Daytime and nighttime blend and blur together until you’re not sure what day it is or how many days it’s been since all of you became free.

Freedom. It feels like a dirty word.

Young, drunk, and honest, the days blend together. Drinking away the last few weeks might not be the best move, neither the healthiest nor the most productive decision to drink yourselves dizzy until it doesn’t matter that there’s a person buried in your basement, that Jin shot Jimin, or that you almost left them. The truth of love is clean compared to what you might do, what you have done- for the people you love.

For once no one judges, no one cuts you off after one or three or five drinks because it's too much for a pup like you. No one even stops Jungkook from getting giggly from champagne and drinking more than his seizures would normally allow. You deserve it, a few nights of fun, a few nights to live like the 20-somethings that you all are without the weight of trying to survive and secrets weighing you down.

It’s okay, if Jungkook has a seizure that will be the least of your worries.

The hours blend and blur. Jin submits his resignation paperwork for the FBI and has a quick video call with the director, the rest of the pack tries to be quiet but fails several times (once when namjoon pops a bottle of champagne and hits himself in the face with a flying cork, and again when he and Yoongi clink their glasses and predictably break them on accident sending champagne all over the floor. it's not the first glass that breaks that night but it is the first one that makes Jin laugh.)

You and Jungkook lay sprawl across his lap, just out of sight and giggling every few minutes. nuzzling under Jin's shirt to scent his sensitive stomach. Your fingers play with Jungkook's on Jin's hips, and you teeth listlessly at the soft skin just above his belly button, just so that you don't speak or let out an embarassingly needy whine. His hands and long fingers card through your hair and shushing your laughter just barely. Jin doesn't have the heart to tell anyone not to laugh, especially after the last few days no- Jin will drink down every bit of it.

The glass of very good and expensive wine in his hands just out of view of the camera lens, also gets drunk down, and very quick. Yoongi pauses to refill it once Jin's done, he drinks the second glass slower.

Hobi and Namjoon fill out their paperwork for emergency rut leave. Jimin doesn’t have to, already on emergency medical leave and cleared for his bodyguard job till the end of the month when spring will turn the ground lucid and heavy sweet. The winter won't be long now, although the cold pushes at the window and makes Yoongi put the thermostat up high just so that you can all lounge around in your pajamas and fuzzy socks.

Heat and rut leave, even though no one's in a rut or heat. You don't mind lying and abusing the system just this once. You just can’t think about leaving the house just yet. You need a few days to settle all of your instincts and remember that being alive- that surviving is a good thing. That surviving and being together is even better.

It feels like a good thing. It feels like this is the first deep breath you’ve taken in a long long while. Since long before Yoongi maybe- if you’re being honest.

You know you must be irritating your neighbors with the music- but it’s worth it when you get to sit on the counter and watch Yoongi and Hobi bicker over the playlist. Which song is better, which one has the better backtrack, the better lyrics, and the better vibe.

A big black block speaker sits on the kitchen island bumping and although Hoseok and Yoongi might be fighting, they're leaning further into each other with every over-exaggerated scoff like a pair of magnets. it might be midnight, it might be 4am, but no ones sleeping yet. you know too well what waits you when you close your eyes. The nightmares that will plauge all of you, so you keep them open.

It's kinda fun to watch them flirt, It's kinda your favorite thing to watch actually. sitting there on the counter sipping at your drink.

You stay close to Hobi just incase. He hasn't showed any sort of evidence of falling apart from seeing moonbyul yet, but you're ready and waiting if he needs you.

The long socks you wear have trouble staying up to your mid-thigh, thick and cozy, and falling down around your knee as you sit on the countertop, feet dangling and swinging as you look between Hobi and Yoongi. Jimin toys with them, pulling up and pulling down. Happy with the sensation of it. He's equally as entertained by the way that Yoongi and Hobi fight, half joking- half really not.

After the kind of fights you've had recently, you'll take it.

“Fuck you and your love for fucking tambourines- this song is not that good-” Your feet swish and Hobi bens in to peck your forehead and sneak a sip of your drink. You like them sweet and Jin's made each one extra sugary for you.

You don't know where Jin got the mini paper umbrellas from- but Hoseok has a red one tucked behind his ear and a green one in his drink, the same as your yellow one. They litter the kitchen counter along with the juiced rinds of lemons and limes and other mixers that the pack is chasing with their alcohol.

"Oh! Try it Tae, this is like- so you and so so pink" Tae tries your drink too, bending down to sip at it counter level and you watch Jimin swallow hard and fidget. he's so enthralled with the sight of her bending over and sucking that he misses her sneaky hand creeping around to his backside, pinching so hard he jumps.

Hoseok laughs and then does the same to Yoongi. "Oh my god what the fuck-" He's indignant, but Hoseok tugs him back to his side by his belt buckle.

Tae's eyes are nearly comically wide, she asks you what you're drinking, hand on your knee, fiddling with the ribbon on your socks. “I’ve never had a Miami vice before.”

Jimin’s growl is a near thing, a near purr, makes you giggle and tip into him, happy. “I’ll make you one babygirl.”

"Wait!" Tae snags Jimin around the waist before he sinks off to get her one, and even you can see the blush on his cheeks. It's a good sign, Jimin is recovering well from all the blood he lost.

"Help me sit on the counter first?"

Jimin had in fact, heaved you up there when you'd asked to sit, not that you couldn't get up there on your own- but the alpha’s like to do little things like that for you. Tae can definitely do it herself too but Jimin stoops to grip under her thighs, eye contact with her never ceasing, and almost drops her when she takes the chance to kiss him fully on the mouth and you giggle again.

Yoongi glances over at you, at the sound, and your giggle cuts off. cheeks the mirror of Jimin's.

The discomfort passes like it was never there, like he didn't look for the sound, like he's not keenly aware of just how many steps it would take to cross the room and kiss you firmly on the mouth. Yoongi's thinking all sorts of silly things like that.

It's not silly, it's not silly at all- Yoongi is just not quite sure how angry he is.

Yoongi’s all puffed up, swaying but somehow holding onto his whiskey. The counter digs into his hip where he leans and flips his hair like he doesn't know that Hobi's watching. Like Hobi's not biting his lip and staring. It's easier to look at Hobi than it is to look at you- easier to want Hobi than it is to want you right now. Easier to bicker and flirt than to actually initiate anything.

(Yoongi never did like sex or love when he's drunk, he's only ever loved love sober, drinking makes him- stumbly- less articulate than he likes, more rambly. Like his body and his mind are at two seperate tempo's and they won't mix).

“Like you’re any better with your fucking cowbell fixation. It does not add that much to a track."

“Hey! I am a millennial thank you very much, that was like such a meme when I was in high school- like people had shirts with that on it”

their bickering is funny and it’s so much nicer than almost drowning, than fighting. Jimin’s stitches are still tender but you burrow into the front of his chest, hiding your face from view. Peeking over his shoulder to watch Yoongi and Hobi.

Your mate tips his head, spits it almost vicious and slurry, “And I bet you had one of those fucking shirts, You and your fucking memes, just because a song has cowbell in it doesn't make it a good song-”

Hoseok grins, teeth sharp looking and smelling so heady and rich that you tip your neck to the side, presenting your scent gland for Jimin and Tae to burrow into, between the two of them in a alpha sandwich.

"You thinking about my shirt hyung? It's made of boyfriend material you know."

Jin laughs from the couch in approval and tae groans but Yoongi's hand tangles with the front of Hoseok's shirt, black, generic. Pulling him closer so harshly that hoseok genuinely looks startled for a second. "I am thinking about your shirt- how it would look on my fucking floor."

Jungkook swishes around his Miami vice from the couch, calling over to your little cuddle puddle, "Does anyone know what they're talking about?"

Jin pipes up, almost undistinguishable from where he's pressed between Joonie and the couch cushion. "Are they angry at each other or trying to fuck?"

"Both?"

"Both."

You sigh at the same moment Tae nearly swoons, "Let them be."

"It's sort of hot to watch them argue," you agree.

“You and your fucking memes” Yoongi spits again, half a laugh, so in love that he purses his lips to keep from saying it and ruining the (admittedly fake) argument.

He pushes hoseok up agains the center island, lips colliding with his so sloppy and yet with so much love behind them that you see Hobi's knees go weak a little, watch your mates lips work in the way you are only too familiar with blushing and still peeking. As Hoseok's red hair mizes with Yoongi's black and Hoseok kisses back with just as much tension, finally snapping. Yoongi's hands on his hips. Kissing just to kiss. Pulling apart with a laugh because,

"Did you just fucking bite me?"

"And i'll do it again if you don't admit that my song is better than yours." They go back to kissing, and no one pays them heed.

Jimin’s scent swells sweeter and Tae touches the top of your head, long fingers threading through and long nails scratching gently behind your ears.

"Feeling small pup?" She asks, all quiet and fond with it. Prepared to wisk you away upstairs or into the library room if you need a second of quiet, a second of less stimulation so settle you. you're a little quiet, a little less verbal- something she's come to expect from you in omegaspace.

You shake your head, words escaping you, eyes stuck on her fluffy sweater, the kind of mohair that leaves a pretty white halo, her shorts are more bloomers, ruffled at the hem and dove colored, the same color as your socks. Coordinating. Tae dressed you and she wanted couples outfits. Your hands fix on her sweater sleeves and you pet them once, twice, still shaking your head.

"You sure?" Tae's lips quirk and you know that she doesn't believe you in the slightest. You press a kiss to her lips, slow soft, near reverent with how gentle you are with it. Her pupils dilate, and Jimin's' growl rumbles all the way to your fingertips.

"M'okay, just a little sleepy but not like- sleepy sleepy yet." it is nearing 3 in the morning. Jimin's arms tighten around you protective and a little possessive, Tae's eyes go from your face to his. Apparently, she's learned a thing or two from Yoongi and Hobi because her tone is dripping with false displeasure.

“Stealing my pup from me Minnie?” She taunts, and you shiver at the sound of her voice, low, the most normal it’s sounded in days. You’d almost forgotten what it sounded like when Tae teased.

Jimin seems to have forgotten too, because he doesn't seem to understand that she's teasing, bullying you, nearly pushing you further into her with how quick he seeks to hand you over. “Never.” He says softly, quietly. Like every syllable she says is treasured. It is.

“Hey!” Jin flops over the edge of the couch. Jungkook and Namjoon near his feet. All but kissing up his thighs. Namjoon says something low and Jungkook giggles, almost tossing himself into the pack alpha’s shoulder. “Hey! If anyone is anyone’s pup, they’re- hic- mine!”

Jin only manages to be serious for a second before he flinches, laughing and hiccuping again as Namjoon’s fingers dig into the meat of his heal. A carefully orchestrated reminder as the pack omega squirms and shrieks at the ticklish feeling. Swaying and almost toppling from the couch. You don’t think you’ve seen Jin look so young, act so young- in weeks. He ends up on the floor with Jungkook on top of him, blowing raspberries against his neck with a loud rippling noise.

Your hands are healing slowly and Hobi’s bruises around his neck are beginning to yellow. The bruises on the back of Tae’s head have faded from painful to touch tender. You touch her there, oh so gently. Touching her hair as she touches yours, leaning into each other and giggling, touching, loving gently. Jimin watches blinking owlishly. Fingers flexing on the countertop.

Other wounds have faded that way too. Yoongi scoffs and turns to you. They've been lost in their own little world. Yoongi has his long hair in a top knot, his white teeshirt is so long it almost hides his shorts below. If basketball shorts could be coquettish- Yoongi would pull it off. The loose pieces of his hair fluff softly over his forehead as he huffs.

“Okay. You can be the tiebreaker- which one’s better? This one or the song I showed earlier?”

Both of them look at you expectantly- watching and waiting, Tae curls a lock of your hair around her finger syrupy slow as you pause for a second. You turn to Yoongi already apologetic, “Okay- but Russian house music is like- kinda really really cool-”

Your mate groans and all but smacks his head on the counter. “Oh come on!” Hoseok pumps his fist and almost hip-checks Yoongi across the kitchen. Your mate pouts, crossing his arms.

“Come on- epic high is a classic.”

“Admit it hyung- she likes my playlist better than yours.”

At least Yoongi is sort of talking to you again. Sort of getting over it minute by minute. It’s hard. Namjoon watches you from where he's sprawled on the couch, holding a near-empty bottle of champagne by the neck while Jungkook and Jin wrestle on the floor, sort of making out, sort of scenting each other as they go. Jimin requests a song that Tae would like- and then Yoongi and Hoseok lean over Yoongi's phone to make her the perfect playlist. Happy to have something new and mundane to bicker over.

(Happy Pink Pup Time ▷ Play playlist?)

Morning is just cresting over the rooftops and the music is just turned down when Namjoon gets up from the couch, slowly, dizzy. You're perched on the counter in your pj's watching Jimin and Jungkook chase each other around the room. The need to scent and wrestle and get all your restless energy out near palpable.

Hoseok and Jungkook have a tiny paper drink umbrella tucked behind their ears, the same one that Jin stuck in your drinks so that you can keep track of whose drink is whose. He and Jungkook gang up on Jimin to stick one into his hair, the tiny little baby bun that Tae tied to match Yoongi.

You giggle as Jungkook gives up and just loops his arms around Jimin's neck, no technique to it and all body weight dragging the three of them to the floor. Sprawled next to the library room door, now open. Tae’s makeup collection spread out on the green shaggy carpet like the fallen petals of some red flowering tree. Nothing hidden in the room anymore, the lock will go unused forever.

It changes from wrestling to tickling and then the three of them are getting up and surrounding Yoongi, a paper umbrella in their fingers, he takes it all with a huff and a surprisingly whiney, “guys.”

You still when Namjoon walks over, the same way you'd still if a wild animal were approaching. He doesn't settle close, just stands next to you and pours himself the last melted bit of the drink in the blender. Pink and yellow swirling delicately. He makes a noise in his throat and looks at you like he hasn’t barely said a word to anyone in the whole last 24 hours, hasn’t barely said a word to you since you got off the phone with him and Moonbyul left the house.

You sip at your drink, lips pursed around the straw and when you're done, Namjoon takes it from you and puts it on the counter. You think at first that he might be cutting you off but then he stares at the gauze around your hands.

"I should probably check these." You nod obedient, wordless, unsure what to say, you let him take your hands.

Fingers prodding at the red skin, delicate but knitting itself together slowly. “How much do they hurt?” He asks. Eyes downturned, looking at them, not you.

“Probably a two,” you rate, almost without thinking. His eyelashes still cling together from salt. Face glossy. You want to wash his face, blot across his cheeks gently the way that Jin does after you've been crying (something that you admittedly do a lot- the pack's resident crybaby).

Namjoon sighs heavily, "So should I consider that a four or-"

"No, this time I'm being honest." Namjoon stills, "It doesn't hurt when I touch stuff unless I'm not careful." Being honest about your hurts and pains has never been easy for you. But Namjoon has shown you time and time again that he's willing to take your hurts and fix them. You have no reason not to tell him the truth.

Namjoon grips your palm, turning it over his hands again and again, looking down at your love line lifeline all tangled there before leveling you with a look that is neither angry nor resigned.

He holds your hand, “Do you notice?” He asks. You swallow, eyes itchy.

“Notice what?” His finger presses to the center of your palm, the hollow there.

“Still dry,” He says.

You think of the mice. Of drowning. You don't pull your hand from Namjoon's grasp, but you know he wouldn't Let you anyway.

You think about the mice. Of dying. Of trying to stay dry despite the things that try to swallow you whole. Water is not gentle, water is hungry. The rain pitters against the dark glass and melts the snow outside. But you and Namjoon and the rest of the pack are dry and warm and safe in here.

Your breath hitches, but you close your fingers around his hand and nod. Your heels hook around the back of his knees, pulling him closer to you. “Still dry.” You agree.

Namjoon closes his eyes and breaks the tension and this distance between you. Letting you pull him between your thighs properly where you sit on the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you to his chest, and breathing deep in the hollow of your throat.

He pulls back just as abruptly. Hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. All up in your space and sour-smelling. It takes great effort for you not to turn away and keep his piercing eye contact.

“Don’t do something like that again. Ever.” His jaw rolls and his scent spikes angry. But it's all temporary as you nose under his jaw to soothe him. Namjoon has every right to be angry with you for leaving, the same way Yoongi does.

“Never. Promise.” You hold out your pinky and you mean it.

Namjoon looks at you for a second, staring you down, waiting for you to look away. But then after a pregnant second, he loops his pinky through.

~-~

Eventually, you get drunk enough to play dress up with Tae’s collection of designer clothes. You wake up sleepy and pupish, Namjoon and Jungkook guide you to the dressing room before youre really awake.

"Sorry to wake you, Tae just needed-" you make a sleepy soft noise, nuzzling into Namjoon's throat when they hand him off to you.

Instead of getting pulled into pajamas you get Tae and the dressing room, almost her whole collection of dresses taken out of their careful organization. piles and piles of clothes on the floor, and a silk scarf keeps her hair back from her face.

Gold eye patches on her under eyes that slide off when Jin tries to drag her in for a morning scent mark to soothe her. Tae's anxious, you can smell it on the air, distracting and sharp, you squirm and Namjoon sets you on the floor. "Sorry pup, Tae's just-"

Tae's cheeks were wet, frustrated holding a slip in her hands. sniffling softly. She'd looks at you a little guilty, looking down at you in the middle of her tornado and nearly burst into tears,

"I don't have anything to wear."

Hugging Tae is always so easy, easier when she needs your comfort. you're sleepy, but this is something you'd know how to do even in your sleep- loving her properly has always been so easy. Jimin stands silent and fidgety in between the hollow of her closet obviously having handed her dress after dress to try and soothe her.

"Jimin, give me that dress and that Crinolin."

"The blue one?"

"The one thats purple and pink, stat." You know better than to think this is just Tae having nothing to wear, this is dysphoria, the way it clings to her shoulders, makes her turn away from the mirrors. You straighten up and turn to your pack in the door each of them standing at attention.

"Namjoon, go downstairs and bring me up the case that's under Tae's makeup vanity, not next to it, the one under it. It's got her favorites." You turn to Hobi, "find Noodle, she needs a cat in her lap asap."

Tae sniffles, wiping her cheeks, grimacing but then admitting, "a cat would help."

They scatter. "What should I do?" Yoongi asks, rubbing the back of his neck with his hands.

You pause, hover. But Yoongi waits, willing to be ordered around. "you could make us a drink?"

Of course, you don't need to be drunk to play dress up on a good day, it's just that Tae needed a bit of liquid courage after Moonbyul's words, you expect that they've gotten under her skin a little more than she's let on. But if that's under her skin, you're happy to help her put something more fitting over it.

Skirts of tulle and beaded flowers and stars that glitter brighter than the whole sky. Fancy tambour embroidery that must be worth its weight in gold. Pulled gently, mother-of-pearl buttons get stuck in your hair. Expensive draping and diamond collars stitched high against scented throats. Velvet bows and metal boning are hidden by the softest silk.

It's fun to be a girl sometimes, most of the time. Especially when your alphas ask for you to twirl for them. Which is how Namjoon ends up breaking the lamp by your couch by tripping over the floor-length bright pink dress that Tae’s put you in. fluffy tiers of it, bright and flamingo pink. Tae's feeling alot better now, after you'd done her makeup and let her swatch colors of lipstick up and down your arms. Let her choose your outfit and change you a dozen times to find the right dress for you.

You'd done the same with her, you'd put her in the red dress and blushed, and immediately asked her to change. And had pointedly not looked at the delicate daisy print bralette she wore under it, the white and yellow flowers that did everything for her skin.

You remember when that bralet was just hidden in her makeup room. Remember when she'd never worn it, too risky, too much of a confession to the nature of her soul underneath. When it had stayed just there- hidden in the library room, ready to be savored. Now- the yellow on the straps wears off white instead of lemony and you pull them up her shoulders, a kiss to the spot where it sits on her shoulders.

Hoseok sits on the edge of the couch- because all of them had tried and failed to fit on the pink tufted bench upstairs in the dressing room almost breaking it so you had to relocate back to the first floor. Hoseok buries his face in your hip, disappearing into the pink glittery fabric. Laughing and smiling up at you. "You should wear this all the time, you look like a fucking peony,"

"That would be like so impractical." Hobi's cheeks are dotted with kiss prints, "if you want to put makeup on me you better kiss it on" he'd teased, getting drunk quicker than the rest. his cheeks have several small kiss prints four from Tae and five from you.

All of you bear her touch, either by kisses on your cheeks, pink and mauve, or by the glitter that tae's demanded you all wear. You’ve giggled and dotted it across their cheeks to match. Tae has a lot of glitter to go through in her makeup collection, more than she ever logically will in her lifetime or even before they expire. It's okay to use them now.

She sits with Jin, the pack omega's arms full of swatches the same way yours were all those months ago, as Tae explains the merits of each and Jin chooses which glitter he wants on his cheeks. The reflects in this one that's green, not purple- or the pink one with extra little heart glittery bits- her favorite. Jin listens on an astute student, Jimin close at his hip, absorbing her words like they're gospel.

They are gospel. After spending the last few days debating survival strategies- debating glitters is so much better.

Jin lets Tae put his on (white, with extra chunky stars) while you put some on Namjoon's cheeks (champagne colored, almost translucent with how it blends into his skin) and Jimin’s fingers draw idle circles over Tae's back. Between the velvet ribbons that crisscross and tie her corset.

Tae's corset is a deep plumb, but the color of her silk dress fades to pink around her waist and then gauzy white on the floor. Her red toenails are only visible when she sways, "Minnie i'm ticklish there." Jimin just growls in response. Half a pur and half a plea.

Are the others thinking about it like you are? Thinking about Tae in a big white dress, a veil across her face? Are they thinking about how lovely she looks in white? Or how much they'd like to see her in a white dress for them? Just like you are?

Namjoon leans close, between your thighs too. All of them- all of your packmates sit in a line across the couch, ready to be glittered and made up because Tae had requested it. Doing all of their makeup. They'd been so willing, so loving about it. They'd even washed their faces and you'd gotten to clean the salt from Namjoon's cheeks just like you'd wanted. But now-

Now the 4th finger on your hand hums sensitive, Tae has glitter across her knuckles. You haven't thought about your wedding ring since you took it off, and haven't thought about marriage at all. Jimin well- Jimin will be Tae's mate- same way you're Yoongi's. But Tae's ring finger is empty, she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry but-

You don't think about your wedding alot, not at all really. Such a brief little bit of time that started easily the worst time in your life, but you remember the feeling of the dress, tight on your hips- how you couldn't move a full step without help.

Hoseok burrows into the fluff at your hip, really- it must have taken a mile or two of tulle to make a skirt so poofy. It sort of feels like you're wearing a cloud. With Tae's ribcage size and your chest- most of her dresses fit you comfortably. This one is probably the closest, and Tae chose it for you.

Tae chose it for you.

You sneak furtive glances over at Tae while you do Namjoon's makeup. Not much, just a bit of eyeliner and mascara for his sparse lashes. He looks up at you from the couch, eyeliner on one eye, almost masculine in the way it makes his eyes look sharper and dragon like. Concealer for the bags under his eyes.

"Your scent went a little sour then sweet, what were you thinking about?" You continue to put it on him, pat pat pat- quiet for a moment where you choose your words.

"I was thinking about my wedding dress."

Hoseok quiets where he's still burrowing into your hip, maybe more a little alpha-puppyish than you've seen him. You don't blame him, the stress of yesterday has you needing a bit of omegaspace yourself. Your back and shoulders all tense in the way that only ever relaxes when you're brought low and sweet by their care.

But not now- not tonight- maybe tomorrow you'll indulge in omegaspace. Tonight, none of you will sleep or be sensitive just in case something bad happens. Just in case Moonbyul's promises were too good to be true. It might be a good night (verging on morning) but none of you trust the quiet. The rain still pittering on outside. Creaking under the doors with cold damp fingers.

Namjoon's fingers dig warm into the spot under your thighs, the squishy bit of skin between your knees and your mid-thigh. Under the dress but firm, keeping you there in the moment and not sinking back through your memories.

Hobi's eyes are shiny when they look up at you, pinching a bit of the pink tulle between his thumb and forefinger. "What was getting married like? What did you wear for your wedding dress?" Was it everything you dreamed of or could you want that dream again. Who would you want that with, could it be me?

(Hoseok won't have to wonder for long, although he will be disappointed, just a little)

"It was so- so not me- I'd much rather have worn something like this." The dress might be a monstrous concoction of tulle but it's still so cute- so much more- you than anything Geumjae ever put you in.

"Getting married was kinda a blur, alot of people, a lot of talking but- I have pictures of me in it somewhere, do you want to see?" Namjoon nuzzles into your waist, your sternum, and nearly your chest, but you let him. He answers in a purr before Hobi has a chance too.

"No, I don't need to see, you look lovelier in this, I'm sure."

"I never thought a bit of whiskey would draw compliments out of you alpha," You tease, it's a bit of a change from how firm with you he was yesterday but you're not going to look gift horses in the mouth. Namjoon just shakes his head, rubbing his cheeks across your bodice more thoroughly, almost clumsy in his scenting.

"I clearly haven't been doing my job if you think you need to get me drunk to compliment you- I'll happily do it again when we all get sober."

"Like that will ever happen again," Jin snorts, then ducks away from Namjoon's /////' We really shouldn't have that kind of mentality look. They can avoid their pack alpha and pack omega responsibilities and sensibilities for a few moments more. a few days more.

Tae had decided you'd wear this, had picked it out from where it had hung towards the side and she'd even said please. Even if the skirt is so long that you nearly trip over it every time you take a step you'll wear it all night if that's what she wants. Walking is what heels and alphas are for anyway.

You don't look at Hoseok and Namjoon, you just look at Tae, thinking of your wedding. 'I'm gonna marry her one day.' You think.

The whole pack bursts into laughter, and you realize that you've spoken out loud the same second that you trip, hands jerking to catch yourself on Namjoon's shoulders, regardless of the container of glitter that you hold in your hands.

When you look Yoongi has more glitter covering him than a stripper would at Mardi Gras. More than they put on Edward Cullen in Twilight. Their laughter redoubles, and when Yoongi breathes out in a huff, his breath sparkles.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Your cheeks are brighter than your skirt while Jin tries to clean off his thighs swatting the glitter onto the floor but everyone's laughing too hard to properly help. Yoongi repays their laughter by shaking his hair out over them much to their dismay.

Jungkook is hiccupping with how hard he's giggling, and you're all drunk and in love, and just- there is no harm in it, even as Yoongi sighs and Hobi teases, "You're like fucking Tinkerbell hyung."

Tae doesn't do anything about your confession, doesn't do anything but laugh and tip her hip into yours, it's so much squishier, so much curvier than it once was. The hormones that have been doing her job in making her soft and supple. Curves that you can't help but feel a little bit later when she pushes you into the side of the couch, your dress and her dress mixing their colors.

"So, you wanna marry me huh?" She's so much taller than you, especially in the Versace pumps she put on. So tall and willowy it has you stammering.

"Yeah," you say, a little breathless looking up at her. Gulping as she leans, pinning you there. "If Jimin will let me."

Jimin hasn't seemed to notice that you're having any sort of conversation that should involve him at all, hasn't registered your words at all, too busy staring at Tae with an expression that can only be described as lovestruck, maybe utterly devoted. Your sentiment and want to marry her- hasn't struck him as strange at all. You guess you'll have to ask Yoongi first but when you turn, his cheeks are as pink as your dress.

Jin lunges forward, miming the neck of a champagne bottle as a microphone, doing a silly voice. "Anything to report? any comment Yoongi- knowing that your mate wants to marry someone thats not you?"

Yoongi huffs and it casts a new puff of glitter into the air, "she can marry whoever she wants. She's my mate but- if she wants to yeah-" His shoulders shiver, "we'll not anyone- obviously she's limited to the people in this room but-"

Jin is giggling and so are you, rolling your eyes, "Obviously- not like I'd wanna marry anyone else than you guys-" Hoseok looks away and then back at you but it's a missed moment. Jimin tugs on the laces of Tae's corset and her slight intake of breath has you looking back up at her.

“Did you have to do it so tight?” He asks, eyes on you.

“That’s kinda the point of a corset alpha.”

And then- Hobi slaps the couch. A loud sound but a look says he's not angry, he's running his fingers through some of the glitters there, a little pile, uncovering the faint stain below.

It's a blood splatter. Faded from where Jin poured a whole bottle of hydrogen peroxide over it, but it's faintly there still. Soaked through the fibers and the foam below probably. Maybe all the way to the base and the springs.

They washed it as much as they could, but they still couldn't get it out all the way. The couch, like a few other things in the house like the curtains- will have to be dealt with and disposed of one day. It is a kind of evidence. There's probably enough DNA to pull from it to be worrisome.

“Can we like- burn this fucking thing already?”

He’s progressed past normal drunk to not quite able to stand on his own, might fall over, drunk. The glass in his hand sloshing with every movement as he leans over the edge of the couch. Hobi’s already got some on his cheeks, bright yellow gold that crests the highpoint of his cheekbones and the inner corner of his eyes. It looks like sparks a bit- especially with his red hair.

Jin grimaces, “It was like totally soaked with blood. I did the best I could."

"No one's blaming you hyung-"

"Yeah you did like such a good job. It's just- still kinda covered." Namjoon's always trying to ease Jin's discomfort, encourage him, and that's still true even drunk.

“It's probably still got Namjoon’s cum in it from his last rut too.” Half the pack cringes and scolds Jungkook, but he's recalcitrant. "What? It's probably got your cum on it too- we kinda ruined it before the whole murder thing just saying."

Jungkook hasn’t been drunk in years, he has the lowest tolerance among the eight of you. He bounces giggly, jumping from packmate to packmate, looping his arms around your shoulders and leaning so much of his body weight that you almost topple over, just giggling. Yoongi huffs, a little endeared and a little worried that Jungkook will actually make you fall over.

Jungkook does this to you alot. He likes to overpower you sometimes- not that the hierarchy still needs settling Jungkook just likes to hassle you.

“Hey!” Namjoon chirps from the floor as Jin carefully sweeps up some of the glitter and a few shards from the lamp that Namjoon broke. He’s too drunk to be properly scandalized.

Yoongi sits back against the cushions, drink in his hands swirling. Ice clinking. “Yeah, let’s burn it.”

And burn it you do. The alphas try to lift it all together and almost fall over themselves, barely moving it even an inch before Yoongi decides to cut it up with his power tools and carry it out piece by piece. It makes a fucking mess in the Living Room before you lug it out to the squishy backyard.

Piles of stuffing litter the living room floor like dust bunnies and noodle swats at them, playing.

Yoongi's got the kerosene and you've got the match and the whole thing goes up in seconds, much to Hoseok and Jungkook's whooping delight. Jin's bundled in a blanket, but even he grins at the flames and the bad memories that burn away with it.

Hobi almost throws his car keys into the fire too but doesn’t. Whooping and waving his arms as the flames climb higher and higher. Yoongi squirts more of the lighter fluid until Namjoon says "That's enough" because a trip to the burn unit isn't what any of you want tonight.

The eight of you stand around it and watch it burn and then when you go back upstairs, Seokjin drags the mattress from your old bedroom into the big room- just like you did during Namjoon’s rut. Jungkook’s reallocating all of the pack's nesting materials to make a fort on the ground floor. Yoongi gets up on a chair to measure out where the studs should be so that he can use nails to secure a sheet to the ceiling like a big circus tent.

“It’s a fort hyung! It doesn’t need to be structurally supportive.”

Yoongi just pecks at Jungkook's head from where he stands on one of the pack's dining room chairs, "Not gonna let the world fall down on top of you bunny."

Tae asks Hobi to play bubblegum pop and they’re just so happy to see her smiling and acting anything like herself that they acquiesce to even her most ridiculous requests.

Hoseok turns the music up loud and you all fucking dance. You and Tae twirl and bounce, your big long skirts heavy and all big. Stained with a bit of mud at the bottom of the backyard. Namjoon makes both of you twirl and snag around your waists as you spin past.

You and Tae hop up and down, screaming along to the lyrics so loud that when it quiets- your voices are rough and raw. Chests a bit lighter with each screamed lyric, something awful working its way out of you with every laugh, something necessary in it as you grip each other's arms and yell out your frustrations against the speaker.

And by then Jungkook asks to wear a dress too- and then you’re really all having fun.

Yoongi is wearing a pair of Tae’s fuzzy knee socks and is dancing slowly with Noodle who chirps in his arms- apparently recognizing that your mate is too soft and squishy at the edges to be worth the hissing. Hair mused from some very involved kissing that you know Hobi dragged him away for.

Noodle keeps his claws sheathed for now as Yoongi dances although he does look vaguely annoyed. Like he doesn’t want to enjoy Yoongi’s touch but does. Watching you and Tae show Jungkook how to walk in high heels with beady yellow eyes. Jungkook gets it quick, quicker than you did.

Tae just nips at his cheek, a little bitey and a lot drunk. Jin and Yoongi have run out of frozen fruit so the drinks are a little stiffer. You’ll probably run out of alcohol by morning.

Someone will offer to drive to the nearest liquor store which will immediately be met by shaken heads and refusals, just this once- you can have alcohol and food delivered. Leaving the house right now still feels too scary. Too nerve-wracking.

Why would you ever leave when you have everything you could ever need, everyone you’ll ever love right here in this room? Wearing glitter and dresses and matching pajamas worn at the edges from love and cuddles.

Namjoon is wearing your bottoms. The very first courting present he ever got you, pink with red hearts. They're a bit tight in the ass and more capris, but they fit him either way. You watch as Namjoon’s fingers toy underneath Seokjin’s hem, splaying and petting a little higher. High enough to show a bruise that you didn’t know existed that lies against Jin’s ribcage.

For now, you’re all safe, and Tae tugs Jungkook upstairs in the direction of your dressing room. “Come on kookie I’ve got the perfect thing.” You know she's not tired of playing dress up with just you- she's just happy to have another canvas.

Tae has 7 other canvases actually, once Jungkook gets in on the dress-up, Jimin follows like the puppy alpha he is, and then Hobi and your mate, Jin, and Namjoon because they want to know what you're shrieking about upstairs. And come up to find Yoongi sprawled out on the floor, a fluffy something stuck over his head kinda making him look like a lampshade.

"It's not my fault your waist is like- super tiny. My head's just big."

And that’s how everyone gets in on it. Dresses and fancy shirts, bedazzled belts strung low over Hobi’s hip, and a silk scarf tied around Namjoon’s neck in a big bow. Jin ends up in a silky shirt that actually makes your heart stop, a glittery broach at the collar that Jimin toys with and Jin lets him touch to his heart's content. Dancing and dancing and falling onto the nest that you’re all building so so sloppy. Earning your first real laugh you’ve let out in days.

“Joonie? Can you please- I’ve waited forever to get my ears pierced and you’re like a surgeon- and you just look it up on YouTube and do it,”

You slip on someone's spilled drink almost tumbling into Hobi who goes to snatch your waist but misses. Giddy and giggly, “I can do it! I pierced mine once in elementary school but they healed over!”

“I don’t know if drunk piercings are the best idea.” Jin says, at the same moment that Jungkook chirps, “I’ll do my belly button if you hold ice to it."

Namjoon is the one who ends up doing it, with his gloves and antiseptic and numbing cream. You check to make sure Tae’s are symmetrical and then Jimin’s because of course he wants to be matching with her, then Jungkook and Jin, because they can be giggly and ridiculous too. They’ve got high-quality surgical steal and fancy earrings upstairs that Jimin bought Tae during his mad dash to get her all the girl things after she came out (you're still honestly going through all of it). You give Tae the hoops because you know they won’t tug and pull on her hair and Jimin these little studs with a star on them.

Namjoon does it with a kiss on her cheek and a tiny gauze pad with barely a drop of blood on it folded and thrown away. “Good baby girl, was I gentle enough?” he was, he always is gentle enough.

By the end of the night, you’ve got a secondary piercing, and Tae’s already dreaming about getting more. One at a time Namjoon says, the edge of a pack alpha command in his voice.

~-~

You wake with a pounding headache and to mimosas and a mountain of pancakes that Hobi practically forces down your throat to keep off the worst of the hangover. Until you feel like you might be sick and the pack piles in around where you sit in the bathroom to keep you company through your nausea. A bit more panicky and serious and sober than you have been.

They stroke your back and pile the big blue blanket around you to keep off the shivers. But you don’t vomit somehow, drinking the electrolyte drink that Yoongi practically shoves down your throat. Quieter now that he’s sober but still unable to watch you suffer. Hand on your chin making you drink. You fall asleep soon after that again, overly full.

You sleep for 12 hours, and wake to the sound of retching, but it's just Yoongi- in a similar position as you are. Apparently he Jin and Namjoon stayed up while the rest of the pack went back to bed and decided to play drinking games that have turned into a bad decision. he'll need a shower before long.

He's not the only one whose in a bad way. Hobi wakes from the nest room staring at the ceiling listless. Still wearing the fancy designer clothes that Tae put him in under one of his hoodies. and you know without having to ask that he's thinking about her, about Moonbyul.

But getting over this is going to be a work in progress. Everyone is good one moment and then bad the next, only to be good in an hour, laughing like you were never crying.

Hobi doesn’t want to move, staring blankly at the ceiling Noodle purring against his hip and kneading him, putting holes in his pants. He can’t move from the nest fort in the living room, half open like a clamshell curled away from the entryway. Can't move until Jungkook gets you and you come close and he finally tears his eyes from the ceiling to look at you. You don't have to say a word to him you just guide him into a sitting position and let him rest his face against the crook of your neck.

You help him take off his sweatshirt and when he nods that he's ready, guide him up to the upstairs bathroom where tae is already showering off the scent of fire and glitter. You helped her take off her corset just the same, tugging at the ribbon until it fell loose because Jimin complained that he didn't know how to take it off without hurting the dress.

You strip all of them- Hobi and Yoongi and tae, and get them side by side in the bathtub. A firm layer of foam on the top from Jungkook's favorite purple bubble bath, and have a go at grooming them with Jin and Jungkook. Every inch of your alphas is inspected and tested with teeth and purrs. Hoseok closes his eyes to listen to the sound of them, just after Jungkook man handles the rest of the pack into the deep tub that Yoongi installed for this specific purpose.

Jin's purr is deep, yours is musical almost, and Jungkook's is really similar to noodles. He feels a hand on his cheek and knows without opening his eyes that it's yours rubbing away the wetness there.

"Not crying cuz I'm sad just-" he doesn't have to explain, doesn't have to do anything but close his eyes and let you make it better. If hurts could come out in the wash- you'd be able to get them out. You of all people know how hard it is for him to feel clean, the grubbiness of bad memories and old hurts that stains his bones.

And yet, you still wash him.

You rub a cloth over his shoulders, the tense part of his neck, his spine all gentle. Again and again until he starts to squirm- nothing about the touch, nothing about the grooming selfish. You ask him if he's done and he says not yet so you keep going until the waters gone cold and everyone else has gotten out of the tub.

Namjoon forces about a gallon of water down yoongi's throat, but the worst of the vomiting seems to be over. yoongi sleeps too- out of sync.

Love feels so tight in his chest that Hoseok can't open his eyes. He falls asleep there until Jin starts to tug at him, and when he opens them, he finds that you're in one of Tae's slip dresses- the kind that she likes to sleep in, translucent and soap sudsy at the hem where you got wet washing him.

His voice is croaky but he asks, "Have you eaten?" The answer, of course, is no. But he remedies it easily for you once he's dressed and scented sweet. An eye for an eye, a hurt for a hurt, and a heart for a heart.

You order a new couch somewhere on the third day, blue this time instead of grey- to match the tile backsplash in the kitchen. With fabric that’s comfier this time and actually designed to be turned into a nesting nook when you need it.

Yoongi puts it together sober and then takes it apart just to put it back together again- claiming that one of the legs is squeaky and the middle edge isn't flush. He's feeling better, less hungover and less angry. Happy to have something for his hands to do.

He still doesn’t talk to you more than a few words but he does ask “Hold the flashlight for me?” While Tae is upstairs putting away her torn-apart dressing room with Hobi and Jungkook.

And you do help your mate- standing in your matching pj’s with clean hair and clean minds for the first time in days. Thoughts unclouded by terror or anger or alcohol.

You hold his phone while he tamps down on the leg screws. the sound of the others laughing upstairs, both of you quietly accept for the clink click of the socket wrench. You hold the flashlight, hold it even when Yoongi drops his hands, not looking at you, squatting. It's quiet, Noodle sleeps in a puddle of mid-afternoon sunlight by the front door but it's morning for you- all of you slept till noon.

“I need a moment okay just- give me a second, give me a few days.” You gulp and look at him. But it's as much as Jin has said to you too. As much as any of them have warned. “Give him time pup, he’ll come around.”

“Let me know when you want the next screw.” He turns around, still kneeling before you, hand on your ankle. Circling it slowly and simply. Petting over the ball of your bone and your Achilles tendon. Looking up at you and not saying a thing until you speak.

“You know I’m sorry for it right? That I regret it right?”

“Yeah,” he says, lips downturned “I know. Wish it hurt less that way.”

“If there was something I could do- something that would make it better- you’d tell me right?”

Yoongi pauses, his lips part for a split second and then go closed, and this time his cheeks go pink. But he sounds stronger when he says,

“Yeah, I’d tell you.”

~-~

But it does hurt less this way. All of your secrets and all your shortcomings are out in the open. Day drinking is either a fantastic idea or a terrible one depending on how you look at it. Because for the first time ever you all talk about it instead of keeping it bottled up.

The eight of you are piled into the kitchen, a second food order sits on the fringes in brown paper bags that Hobi doodles on idly with a sharpie, drawing bunnies and noodle and diamond rings and flowers- endless daisies. and then moves to doodling on Yoongi's jeans. Five days in and still completely unwilling to leave the house- still too scary, too many unknowns that linger just outside your door.

The 7 of them sit stretched between the cabinets while you bounce around above them mindful of not tripping on their sprawled legs, cooking up your tiramisu because Hobi had bragged about it and now they all want a taste.

You spin and turn, ducking and dodging needy hands. Jimin leans forward to sneak a quick peck against your knee when you’re mixing some of the egg whites. Jin gets up eventually to help, disliking the way that you teeter too pupish without a reassuring touch and your favorite baking companion at your elbow. Jin ties his apron around your neck and says. “Tell me what to do” Cooking with him is the most normal thing you’ve done in months. You have enough energy for it once.

“You’re making like a double batch, right?” You’re drinking less, all a little less intoxicated, you’d woken up this morning with a headache that faded and now you don’t want to drink anymore, done for the week and maybe the month. Maybe your whole lifetime after almost vomiting- was that yesterday? Or the day before?

“Hyung when I tell you you’re gonna wanna have the whole tray it’s like- so fucking good-”

“You talk a big game Hobi.” Jungkook looks like he wants to be a part of Hobi's big game. Scent swelling sultry and sweet.

There has been surprisingly less sex than you thought there would be although you know that Tae dragged Jimin upstairs late last night for a bit of privacy. It’s nothing like Namjoon’s rut. Without the alcohol, the pack is getting touchier. It’s strange- you almost would have expected them to want more while drinking but it didn’t happen that way.

Now Namjoon’s hand skims your hip whenever you walk past. Stepping over his thick thighs, squishy where they're pulled together to give Yoongi enough room. His hand comes up to toy with the edge of your shirt, A casual yet claiming touch that you pay no mind. Pinching the chub there and murmuring a quiet "fuck."

You raise your eyebrow at him, a bit self-conscious but still willing to let him do what he wants, "having fun Joonie?" You taunt. He leans forward, nose nudging under your shirt, dragging his teeth over the small swell of your stomach in reply. It's nothing new (well you being a bit chubbier is- but you're learning to live with it).

the mood is light until Jin asks you how you did it, how you killed the don and his beta.

Your recipe book is open in front of him- and that has to be part of the reason why it comes to him. It’s not a secret anymore. Yoongi doesn’t look bothered as the pack quiets down and you tell them everything.

How Moonbyul convinced you to help her do it, how you actually killed them, how she disposed of the evidence. All of it. Jungkook's fingers come up to skim over the scars on your back and you catch his hand gently, taking it away from them because you don't want him to touch them now.

It's the first time you've addressed the elephant in the room in 5 days and it feels-

It feels good to talk about it. To get it off your chest.

You've always told yourself that you had to kill them, it was either them or you, and they were bad people anyway. Who knows how many innocents had fallen under their hands- certainly more than have fallen under Moonbyuls.

You did what you had to do to survive and there was no way out. But part of you has always wondered if that was true.

The pack makes you feel like it is the truth. That killing to survive was all you could do.

But it’s Hobi who bends forward along with Jin, “hang on hang on- fucking cupcakes? You poisoned the head of the fucking mafia using fucking cupcakes?”

You blush, and Namjoon drags his finger through some of the whipped cream you’ve already made for the tiramisu. You gave him the bowl after you were done with it and he lifts it up to lick at the bottom, practically putting his face in the metal bowl. Jungkook licks the spoon and Tae tries not to watch his lips pucker. He fidgets, Thigh-shimming where he squirms tucked into Hobi's side.

Jin's hand on his chin guides the alpha to look up, checking to make sure that he's alright. You don't have to wonder why because last night- Hoseok woke up from nightmares again.

It was just like your nightmares. One moment you'd been nuzzling into him in sleep, and the next moment his hands had been shaking pushing you off of him. Smelling angry- his caramel scent going burnt and off the more he woke, you'd stayed up with him and piled blankets into the bathtub until he'd fallen back asleep again. Yoongi waited on the fringes with water until Hoseok had fallen asleep fitful- but asleep.

He'd woken up without an appetite, but when you'd asked him he'd said the only thing he might be able to eat was your tiramisu, so here you are. Nightmares are easy to deal with, Hoseok's nightmares are something you can handle.

“I bet they were fucking delicious.”

“Thank you Joonie, they were.”

Jin and Jimin are staring at you open-mouthed. But there are more questions- clarifications that everyone needs to ask. It feels good to finally talk about this freely.

“Wait wait wait let me get this straight- Jin’s been working for the FBI for how many years?”

“Only 6” Jin says at the same time Yoongi says, “6 and ½” and they shoot each other looks before Jin nods, and agrees. Eyes still on Yoongi. Jin and Yoongi are looking at each other with more love than is necessary. And Yoongi answers everyone’s unsure glances.

“I knew from the beginning and it didn’t matter.” Jimin bristles like it should certainly matter but Yoongi squeezes his good shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Yoongi furrows his eyes, looking at Jimin's shoulder, and asks Namjoon if Jimin's stitches are ready to come out.

They are, so Namjoon gets his medical bad and Jimin takes off his shirt. A pair of forceps and medical scissors in his hands as he snips through Jimin’s stitches and carefully pulls them out one by one, wearing sterile rubber gloves but pausing to let Jin feed him more spoonfuls of whipped cream.

“Yeah,” Jin says, contemplating. “It doesn’t matter. They were so like bureaucratic anyway."

"You're not gonna miss it?" Jungkook asks, and Jin shakes his head.

"It's not worth it, I'll find something else to do, I've got like a stellar recommendation from them anyway."

It’s not just that secret that you talk through; you also talk through jimin and yours. nothing hidden anymore. No reason to hide it.

“Of course, I recognized you Minnie- I met you before I met anyone else- Before I even met you Yoongi.” Now that- Yoongi really doesn’t understand. But Jimin is already explaining before he has a chance to ask. And by the end of it- Yoongi wants to drive hoseok's car into the wall, trembling with how angry he is at past you for being so stupid.

“A fucking bar? You met Jimin at a fucking bar and you didn’t even try and hide the fact that you wanted to kill my brother?”

“Well I wanted to hire an assassin and he was there so-“

“Of course, she was gonna hire an assassin hyung, her ex-husband was like a total dick- like even more of a dick than Moonbutt or whatever her name is.”

“Moonbitch Kookie.”

You skim your fingers through Hobi’s hair, checking to see if he’s alright and he nods, catching your hand and pressing a fleeting kiss there. You need your hands to bake but Hoseok holds onto them a moment longer than is necessary.

“God that's so dumb” Jin slaps Namjoon's arm and he realizes what he just said, his shoulders curling in, “wait you are not dumb and I am just stressed because I’ve never made ladyfingers before- please don’t think I actually meant that-”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, he’s well aquatinted to how punchy Jin can get when he's tired. That’s nothing new. Jungkook spills across Yoongi’s thighs in mock misery, but he doesn’t react beyond skimming a hand up Jungkook’s back, first over his tee shirt and then under it.

Yoongi turns to you, where you hold a piping bag filled with creamy batter, taking even deep breaths as you pipe out the first few ladyfingers, showing Jin how to do it without getting bubbles in most of them. “You knew didn’t you?” He’s not accusatory. Just surprised. “That it was dangerous, you knew you could die and you did it anyway.”

You nod without pause, “I’d done more dangerous things by then, It was only a matter of time before someone figured out I’d killed the don and I wanted to make sure I got to see him die before they got to me.”

Yoongi takes a sip of his glass, angry at you for making poor decisions back before he even knew you. Angry even though his anger has nowhere to go that's good.

“You have to be more careful.”

“All of us have to be more careful,” Hobi replies he doesn’t like the reproach in Yoongi’s voice. Doesn’t like the way he’s been talking to you. But all the anger and all the pain is healing (it's all just love with nowhere to go. All you have to do is give it time.)

The wounds on your hands are closing slowly- healed enough already that it doesn’t hurt when you hand over the piping bag to give Jin a chance to try. You've done the first 12 ladyfingers and he does the next two dozen to get the hang of it. When Tae asks, you show her how to pipe out a little heart, and then JK wants to make a dick-shaped one and you let him. He gets more of the batter on his sleeve, but you made extra just in case something like this happened.

Jungkook sits up abruptly, wide bunny eyes dark and glassy upturned at you, glancing between you and Jimin, “What did- what does killing feel like?”

“Oh my god Jk you can’t just ask that.”

“No, he can ask I just-“ Jimin swallows, and puts his hand down. He's holding a piece of gauze where Namjoon puts the small cut pieces of the suture. Tinged pink from a little bit of blood. His chest shines in the half-light, the little bit of antiseptic glimmering around the freshly pulled stitches on his shoulder catching the light. Jimin’s face twists in pain, but you know it’s not his incision that’s bothering him. Namjoon's gentle as he pulls the last one.

“I don’t want you to think less of me.”

Everyone’s silent, no one rushes to reassure him, because the truth is that you don’t know. You put your hand over his squeezing- the best that you can offer. Jungkook pushes on, undeterred, “Tell us about the first time.”

“The first time was an accident- it was- before you guys just before Tae went to school- right when she started and I wasn’t thinking. Someone rushed at one of my private clients and I just-“ Jimin's eyes go dark and he picks at one of the stures until Namjoon pushes his hands away.

"You did what you were hired to do," Namjoon asks, and Jimin nods. You and Jin finish the tiramisu and Yoongi reaches out a hand to help you sit with the two big trays of it, portioning them out onto the plates.

"I protected them at a cost." Jimin stares down at his plate, the perfect square on it. and you nudge it until he eats it. “That music executive” Tae blurts, eyes shining, connecting the dots “you were really quiet after you came back but then you got buys, I just thought-” She goes quiet when you feed her the first bite, letting out a surprised but appreciative hum, distracted by how good it tastes, "This is really good." Yoongi huffs, rueful in his understanding. “All they really need is one kill on you and they’ve got you for good.” But that's all in the past now, Jimin is never going to have to kill someone again, even if he did get paid for it.

He lifts a fork to his mouth, pulling back after a second and furrowing his eyebrows. licking the cream from his lips slowly, eyes narrowing.

"Okay now I'm really angry, how have you never made this for me?"

"You never asked Yoongi."

"We'll I'm asking now, I can't believe you kept this from me for so long. Can you make it on my birthday?" You blush, bright red, and Jungkook leans over to press his nose into your flushed cheek.

Jimin answers Jungkook's question after a few bites. “It didn’t bother me, after a while it didn’t bother me at all" Jimin turns to Jin, eyes shining with unshed tears, "hyung, does that make me crazy? Does that make me a psychopath?”

Jin swallows softly around his bite of tiramisu, it really is quite good, top 5- if not top 3 on his list of favorite desserts you've made. “I’m not sure. There is an assessment as a part of the DSM-5. I could test you if you want. Although I’m not sure I could be totally impartial.”

Jimin looks winded, desperate from the line of hope that Jin dangles in front of him, a chance at salvation. Jimin has always wanted to know- in that same twisted way he’s always wondered if he and Tae were going to go to the same place when they died- if he was honest to god crazy. Jimin’s always wanted to know what makes him so different than other people. always looked for a reason and now jin might give him one.

“What do you mean by impartial?”

Jin sets down his fork. “Jimin, do you think any of us wouldn’t do what we had to do to survive I mean- Tae and Y/n killed someone over there 6 days ago. Do you think that makes them psychopaths? Do you think that makes them damned?”

Jimin’s chest heaves and he can’t answer Jin, But after a second, Jimin asks again, “You’ll assess me then?” Tae's fingers rub mindless patterns over the back of Jimin’s hand, her knuckles are still bruised.

“The next day we’re both alone in the house.” He grimaces, “It’s the least I could do after shooting you.”

Jimin whines, mood lightening. “Come on, you know I don’t take it personally.”

At the end of the day, the fact that Jimin’s a killer hurts less than you might think, although their pack has their own questions about it, Tae too, although her questions are limited, Jimin answers each of them truthfully and honestly. He'd never think of lying to her about this, not anymore, not again.

When it comes down to it there is a lot you’re willing to justify when it comes to the people you love and the people you choose. You’re all killers and liars and secret keepers. No true sinner and no true saint between the eight of you. It’s a good thing that you have more than enough love to go around.

Enough for a lifetime you think. You’ll have to wait and see.

“You realize everything you’ve said is insane right” Namjoon’s not angry, just tired and full as he sprawls out. Uncaring of everything that’s been said, unthreatened. “Like- actual mafia movie insane right? Are your names even your real name?”

Yoongi can’t keep in his snort. “Of course? What kind of question is that?”

You give them a look, “Actually…” The uproar is immediate, and everyone shouts their indignance and disbelief. All but roaring in shock, your laugh rings high and loud.

“Kidding! Just trying to lighten the mood!” Jin playfully drags you over his lap, swatting your ass playfully in punishment. Your laughing only gets louder. He leaves a coco-colored hand print on your white shorts.

Tae’s in more of a joking mood now, “am I allowed to use this for my next storyline?”

“Yes” and “Definitely not!” are mutual cries.

Maybe you don’t need to know everything about the person you love. Maybe love is just understanding someone’s secrets and loving them anyway. Maybe the biggest lie that Namjoon can tell himself- to preserve their family that they’ve forged through fire and fucking blood is that Jimin only ever had to kill when he needed to. He parts his thighs after he throws away his gloves- not even bloody, and Jimin slides in between them relieved.

His back resting against Namjoon’s chest, a happy growl grumble slipping out as he tests his hands, and Namjoon tests how far Jimin’s fingers can bend. “Pt starts tomorrow” Namjoon intones, a warning in his voice. Jimin nods, perfectly obedient.

“The rest of our lives start tomorrow too.” No one disagrees.

Jungkook is giggly and sits between Yoongi’s thighs, whipped cream on his cheek, they’ve already finished the first tray of tiramisu that you’d made and are making a serious dent in the second one. Cooking for them fills you with that same warm feeling as it always does. Cooking is a love language. food too. Your stomach is full of it.

“Hang on hang on- let me get this straight-“ Jungkook ticks them off one by one on his fingers. “Jin’s an FBI agent. Jimin’s an assassin. And you almost were one too?”

You roll your eyes, but nod anyway. It's truth enough- it's pretty obvious to you that's what Moonbyul and Hyejin had to slated for (privately Jimin wonders what your moniker might have been. Would you have been the flower to his snake? The dove to Hyejin's bumblebee?)

Jungkook points his finger at Hoseok next to you, the two of you share a fork and a plate smudged with chocolate and whipped cream. Namjoon has completely given up on portioning out his onto a plate and goes at the tray with Jin, a fork between the two of them.

“Hobi’s exes are the current head of a fucking crime family- and Yoongi’s like the heir to some fucked up advice column throne thing- that I still don't quite understand but- Has everyone been keeping something from each other this whole damn time?”

“Does mine even count? It’s not like I knew my ex was like- a fucking mafioso or whatever-”

“I mean- I kept the secret that I was a girl for like- my whole fucking life so I feel like everyone else gets a pass.”

Jimin combs a hand through Tae’s hair, looking down at her and rubbing away a smudge of tiramisu with his thumb. And you hit Namjoon’s knees with your socked feet. Your socks have strawberries on them and a hole at the toe. “You definitely get a pass baby girl.”

“What about you Joonie? Any secrets up your sleeve?”

Your pack alpha shrugs. Eyebrow's furrowing as he thinks hard about it. “I think the only secret I’ve ever kept from you guys was throwing out the lease that one time-“

“Oh my god I completely forgot about that-” “Yeah, Jin hyung was so so mad. Almost as mad as Yoongi is.”

Your mate spills his plate with you quick he leans over to pinch Hobi’s scent gland. “Hey, I’m working on it!”

His last bite slips off his plate and plops onto the ground. Noodle darts forward, trying to get to it before you snatch him back. Unfortunately, no one thinks to do the same with Jungkook.

The hardwood floors have seen worse things in recent days than some whipped cream and everyone lets out belated 'No!' and Gross Jk' as Jungkook leans over to lick it up. You laugh as Hobi snatches Yoongi’s plate and holds it over his head, almost dropping it on himself with how Yoongi lunges. And Jin holds his plate of tiramisu out of reach of their roughhousing.

You rest your head on Tae’s shoulder and watch your pack bicker and then shoot it out for the last slice of tiramisu. Yoongi wins and licks the tray clean, getting a tiny spot of cream on his nose that Jin kisses off. She laces your hand with hers.

Both of you have lipstick swatches from yesterday still on the back of your palms, the faint imprint of the colors of your kisses that her fingers trace idly, gently. The memory there for now but not for long. “What about you Kookie? Any secrets tucked up against your sleeve?”

Jungkook presses a finger to his lips, almost coquettish with how wide his eyes go. “What hyung? Me?” Yoongi leans into his space, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Yeah, seems like everyone’s got a secret but you.” “Hyung, you know if I’ve got a secret- it’s one I’ll never tell.”

~-~

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Notes:

Trying my hardest <3 I'm admittedly having a tough time right now, this chapter felt very nice to write because it's all about the beginning of the packs happy ending <3

i personally think they should have all fucked on the floor in tae's dresses, but thats just my personal thoughts about it all. this is one of the few times that i have pictures in my head of the dresses that tae and the m/c wear but i cannot find pictures online that match for the life of me!!!

The moonbitch moment made it into the chapter- idk who it was that commented that but 😂 i lowkey loved it so it made it in <3

What i've been trying to get at with most of the yoongi/m/c healing arc in this chapter is that they both need to be fully actualized and fully realized players in their relationship. yoongi does not and has not told her his wants and needs very often in the story- and that changes after this chapter- because in the moment they're putting together the sofa he realizes 'oh i actually can tell her what i need' it's important to note that the mc has healed to this point like- earlier in the story she might have taken any request from yoongi as criticism.

idk if anyone saw where i was talking about the eventual like 50 year end for the story like- where i think they all end up. but knowing that tae, hobi, and the m/c are the last packmates left alive into their 80's makes the conversation about the m/c marrying tae and not hobi all the more like...ah, sad maybe? i originally planned for tae and the m/c to be the last alive but maybe it should be the m/c and hobi- do you think they'd get married after tae died?

i love that tae and the m/c fit the tall and short lesbian niche that i am so so into like- i know i went on a bit about them but they are very in love and their love story has been some of my favorite in this book. i felt like this chapter needed a bit of glitter.

idk if i mentioned tae having her ears pierced before- but just pretend that i haven't!

i added the part with the m/c washing hobi at the last minute but let me tell you that part did almost make me cry so...

i ended up having to cut the after part of this chapter, but i kinda like it better that way because then yoongi doesn't forgive her right away. idk, that was the main part i wanted to work on for this chapter so its kinda good that i get to wait a little bit.

i've been...admitedly, dangerously depressed for the last two weeks, and i think working on this chapter made me realize that working on bily, writing stuff, is legitimately the only time i am happy and one of like 3 things that makes me feel okay, i hope it makes you feel okay too <3

Until next time!

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evansbby · 2 years ago

Note

Girl I was literally one of your first likes but I couldn't respond right after I read it because I was running late for my lecture. But this is what I think of the latest POYT chapter

IT WAS AWESOME : 11/10

1) For the first time I did not hate Steve and was actually hurt when he hurt in the very end. It was as if I had the mark and I could literally visualize him being hurt seeing Omega being taken away just after she's aid yes to marrying him, after he told her he loved her and after she told him she was pregnant. That's absolutely devastating.

2) I STAN OMEGA. The way the girl finally let her real emotions out this time. For once her inner Omega was stiffened by her other feelings. Each time she hit him for each of his bs was so so so stress busting. Fr she was under so much pressure. I am so happy she finally put herself first and stood up for herself. The way Steve treated her was absolutely unacceptable.

3) FUCK OFF BUCKY. Tf is wrong with you?! What kind of sick person leaves a girl out in pouring rain and laughs? The audacity he had to think Omega would cheat. It doesn't only show how bad of a friend he is but also how low he thinks of Omega. You really think she would be unfaithful to Steve because he did that to her? And even if she was - trust me lad - not happening with you out of all the people. Fucking knob. I wish Steve threw him out of the house.

4) Even tho Sam was shitty throughout the series seeing him sincerely apologize was kinda nice and sweet. Made me break into a little smile between all the angst.

5) Peter, baby ik you're heart's in the right place, but respectfully ...... piss off. Not happening. Also hilarious that he's the one GRIPPING Omega and dragging her away. WHY CANT THESE BOYS LEARN A BIT ABOUT ✨️CONSENT✨️

6) Jensen getting to play was so sweet, now all he needs is some nice company who actually treats him well.

7) As a reader I want to feel like a part of the story, I DID. IT WAS FUCKING AWESOME. I felt as if I, myself was in that poytverse. I saw Omega cry and imagined Steve sketching her at night in the dim moonlight when her skin glows and she's so peaceful and finally looks like an angel cause she is one. I felt the love, I felt the rage and I felt the hurt. There was so much that I can't even begin to comment on everything. I bet I missed out a lot but I really wish I got to comment on each and every line.

It was everything I imagined and more. It was so well written, love. Honestly, it probably made my entire week and will get me through my hectic schedule. I also recommended it to my best friend and I Def think she'll love this too.

Btw, the I love you and I am pregnant at the football game after they won the game - straight out of a fairytale. It think Steve might truly deserve Omega now. And the one where he exposed his neck for her to mark - MADE ME SO WEAK.

Ok I should stop now or else I'll get carried on-

~A <3

ooof bestie so many opinions!!! firstly thank you so much for reading, ily😩💕 lemme answer them in order!

1. Poor Stevie😩 finally poured his heart out (as much as someone as heartless as him can) and it was all thrown back in his face when his omega left him. His perfect life — future wife, baby, everything — was ripped away from him and I wonder how sadistically he will react to that🤔

2. Yassss omega finally let Steve have it! I wanted to write this for all of us, bc all my readers have hated how she was treated — so i was hoping it would be super satisfying to see her voicing her frustrations!

3. Bucky is kind of delusional… I guess he just can’t seem to grasp that Steve got to omega first. He’s insulted that she’s not interested in him — bc he’s slowly becoming obsessed with her😮‍💨 her rejection insulted him so much that he not only locked her out in the rain, but he also twisted her arm painfully😭😭 the villain of poyt, and we haven’t seen the last of him!

4. Sam showing signs of maturity! But also… omega didn’t forgive him and she doesn’t have to hehe.

5. Unfff exactly!! All these boys need to chill and give omega some space to figure things out for herself!! 😤😤😤

6. Jensen played well!! I didn’t write it in the chapter, but he played well and even Steve was begrudgingly impressed. Not nearly as good as Bucky would’ve been tho.

7. Oh bestie, as a writer this is so lovely to hear!! All I wanna do is make sure my writing invokes some kind of emotion within the reader, so I’m so so so happy that you felt that when reading!! Thank you so much!💕💕😌

#a<3 anon #anon #poyt ask #poyt 4 ask

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jbbarnesandnoble · 3 years ago

Text

Hearts in Secret: Epilogue

Pairing: King!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Readers

Summary: A year after their wedding, James and Y/n visit the place where it all began

Warning(s): Fluff, so much fluff it might make you sick, a poorly written wedding scene, questionable writing

Word Count: 3,021

Prompt: "Do you even know my name, screw boy?"

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: this is it, the ending to one of my very first fics... I almost cried writing it. there were a few times i had to go back to old chapters for reference and I got hit with so much nostalgia... I know it's not the most well-written fics out there but my days, it is so important to me. bucky and y/n in this fic are my favorites, I adore writing them. I'll miss them so much. i know it took a while to get here, but I appreciate all of your support! I'm sorry for all of the delays. But I am so thankful for everyone who has read and commented on this series! ily all! also know the delays on the final part were for the best, because this is the only way I could have thought to end the series

(not my picture)

Four Months Later.

The most anticipated event of the year is here and the princess' nerves cannot bear the anxiety that comes with it. She is, of course, excited. However, the thought of all those people watching her and Bucky share an intimate moment such as this, feels wrong. As if this wedding is meant for her and James alone. It’s fitting for their service to mirror how they met, just the two of them. But alas, that cannot be the case. The King and Queen would never approve of it.

"You are nervous my dear." The older woman strokes the princess's hair as she speaks. Nimble fingers work gently to detangle small knots.

"I should not be. I should be excited." Y/n mumbles. Disappointed in herself for feeling the way she does. As hard as she tried, she has had no luck in shaking away her anxiety. Even if she is able to find a distraction, it never seems to last for long.

"It is your wedding day. It would be strange if you were not nervous." Queen Sarah's voice is calm, reassuring as always. Her mother’s steady hands comb through her hair, noticing the vase of baby’s breath on the desk, she places a few in the braids crowning her head. Y/n leans into her mother's touch.

"Were you?"

"Nervous?" The queen asks though she already knows the answer. Then she laughs, as elegant as ever. "More than you know my dear." Y/n has heard the story of her parent’s wedding more times than she can count. However, the queen has always left out her true feelings going into her wedding day.

"Had it not been for my mother I would have hidden away in the gardens." She smiles fondly, her blue eyes are distant as she remembers that day as if it had taken place last week.

"I was so nervous, my ladies in waiting were not able to do anything to help me get ready. I would not stop moving." The two women laugh as Queen Sarah, she finds her mother’s story reassuring. It calms her knowing that even the effortlessly perfect Queen Sarah gets nervous, allowing her emotions to get the better of her from time to time.

_______

"How are you feeling, James?" Steve asked the anxious man in front of him. A second passes him by before he mumbles out some sort of answer, which Steve does not hear. Nervous hands fidget with the cuff of his sleeve, adjusting them for the seventh time in an hour. James stares at the large castle that his soon-to-be wife has called home her entire life. He wonders how it must feel, knowing she will not be able to call it home after today.

“Nervous, I suppose.” He pauses for a second, though it feels to be hours to him. “Although I feel foolish for feeling that way.” He admits, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink. He ducks his head and a few strands of hair fall into his face.

Steve's hand clasps onto his shoulder, giving it a few squeezes before reassuring his friend that everything will be okay. Before James has the chance to share more of his concerns, a royal carriage arrives in front of them, the horses whinny as they are halted to a stop. A few seconds pass before the footman opens the coach door. Queen Sarah is first to step out, grabbing onto the footman's outstretched hand, she descends the steps of the coach.

Gravel crunches under her heel as she walks over to where the two men stand, a radiant smile on her lips. Her dress is long, flowing, and the most beautiful shade of scarlet. She greets both of them, first hugging her son, then her soon-to-be son-in-law.

“You look stunning,” Steve greets her, wearing a smile that mirrors her own.

James waits anxiously, poking a shoe at the gravel, waiting for his bride to exit the carriage. What feels to be an hour passes before the footman outstretches his hand. Before James’ mind has a chance to catch up with his body, he is running towards the carriage, blue eyes fixated on its golden details. Stopping next to the young boy, he insists he can take over for the time being.

Hand stretched out, she places a hand into his palm, fingers wrapped around hers, he carefully helps her down the stairs. Azure eyes meet e/c ones, standing inches away, he towers over her, making her crane her neck to look at him.

“I knew it was you,” she whispers, breathless and starry-eyed as he watches her, bright blue eyes scanning over every detail, he soaks her in, his hands holding her arms as if she were a delicate flower. She melts into his touch.

"You look…" his sentence trails off as he looks over every detail, he notes how the royal blue dress brings out the light in her eyes, long hair cascades down her back, two braids wrapped around her head creating a crown, baby’s breath standout amongst the h/c hair. She radiates light as if she were a goddess sent to earth simply for him.

“Radiant.” he finally utters, had it not been for their proximity, she would not have heard him. Long figures graze over ornamental jewels adorning the velvety material, hands resting on her arms, he gently pulls her closer.

“And you look handsome. Far more handsome than any other man I have seen.” She compliments wearing an easy smile. Her words are as honest and true as she is. When offered, she loops her right arm through his left elbow, they walk towards Steve and their mother.

"Are you ready, my love?" she asks, whispering so only he can hear her. He gulps, swallowing the lump in his throat. A nod of his head tells her he is, the look on his face says something else.

"I have been nervous all morning. Had it not been for Mother I might have run away." Her joke helps him to relax slightly. A bit of tension leaves his shoulders. A smile pulls at his lips, then he laughs, it is short and sweet but helps relieve them all the same.

Arm in Arm, they walk towards the royal carriage, prepared for them to be taken to the church. Behind them, Steve and their parents follow on horses.

James sits across from Y/n, eyes watching the scenery as they ride by. A comfortable silence falls between them.

As they near the cobblestone building, the minstrels begin playing a song they had been practicing for weeks. The congregation stands, out of respect for the king and future queen. All eyes on them, as they exit the carriage. Walking down the aisle, guests whisper good fortunes.

They ascend the cobble stairs, stopping in front of the priest. The band stops, the guests sit, and the priest begins the ceremony. Standing hand in hand, they vow to love each other through sickness and health, and for the rest of their lives. A promise which is sealed by a kiss.

One Year Later

She stands there, eyes closed and breathing in the cold wind; dancing across her face and flowing through her hair. The winter air is cold against her skin, a chill runs down her spine, one she doesn't quite mind. It had been far too long since she last left the walls of her new home, no thanks to the endless winter and the mountains of snow it brought. Although she would not call roaming the palace gardens leaving, it was as close as she had gotten in a long while.

The wind blows again, the slightest bit warmer than the first, there is a promise behind it, that the bitter winter shall soon end and will be replaced with the spring. Birds begin to chirp and flowers bud. Two more signs of the change in seasons. Another light breeze moves her dress as careful hands inspect a budding rose.

A voice calls out to her from behind, asking, "Are you okay, M’lady?" eyes snap up, instantly locking with blue ones. She smiles, “The roses are budding quite nicely this year.” her eyes drop down to the yellow rose between her fingertips. James drapes his left arm around her shoulders and plants a kiss onto the crown of her head.

Light grey clouds litter the afternoon sky, patches of light blue and rays of sunshine peek through, the wind blows them to the north. A young Cardinal flies past, landing on the branch of a Magnolia, the branch bounces from the new weight of the bird, making day-old snowfall to the ground, revealing flower buds, one more promise of winter’s end.

“The men confirmed the paths are clear enough to ride.” James comments, blue eyes watching the horizon, he pulls her closer before turning to wrap both arms around her shoulders, eyes staring into hers, a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Arms snake under his cloak and tightly around his waist, warmth and the scent of pine greets her. She looks at him, taking in his appearance, cheeks and nose are rosy from the cool air,

“Would you like to go for a ride, m’lady?” his question is met with a blank face staring up at him. Arms wrapped around his waist, she weighs her options. He watches her as she thinks, it has been a year since they wed, yet James is still not used to having another presence in the castle. For years it had been him and his servants, guards, and the rest of the palace workers. He grew used to isolation after his parents death. But now he is no longer alone, he has his elegant, wise, caring, and incredibly beautiful wife to keep him company, which is a feeling he is still navigating. He thanks God for that fateful day they met in the woods.

“We have far too many responsibilities to be running off. Besides, we are not children anymore. It is time to grow up, James.” The blue-eyed man stares at her, face blank as if he does not know the woman standing before him. Where had the wild, carefree girl he met in a forest long ago, disappeared to? Who was this responsible Queen in front of him?

The smile he once wore drops, “Are you feeling okay, my dear?” he asks her, distress evident in his tone. Raising a hand, he feels her forehead with the back of his hand, her skin against his is warm, but she does not seem to be running a fever. He watches her another moment, hand cupping her face. Disappointment pinches in his chest, though he supposes this is for the best, he is king, and she is queen. To leave would be irresponsible.

A smile spreads across her face, so wide it almost hurts. “Do you truly believe that I would ever deny a chance to escape?” She questions, eyebrow raised, a smirk on her lips, she leans into his touch.

“Of course, I want to go. Had you asked me to run away I would have said yes, I will go anywhere so long as I am with you, my love.” Pink flushes his cheeks, embarrassed he failed to catch onto her jest. He sees in full now, the mischief in her eyes. Soft lips kiss his wrist. He finds reassurance in her touch.

“I thought you might be ill,” James admits, a chuckle leaving past his lips, he laughs to hide the worry he felt. He pulls away, just enough to take her hand into his, urging her to follow him to the stables.

Tacking up the horses takes longer than usual, while Y/n is on the lookout, James gets them ready. They must not be as discreet as they once were, because a few maids and a royal guard, who has been working for no more than a month, walked past. Peter, a young stable boy, asked them why the king and queen were preparing the royal horses themselves. To which James told him they had secret, royal business to attend to. The white lie made laughter bubble in the queen's chest, she did well to hide it behind her hand.

Bucky rides down a path his wife is not all that familiar with. She follows him, no questions asked, considering that she is still learning the lands, she does not have much room for question. Patches of snow cover the ground, mixing with mud as it melts. Budding trees surround them on either side as James rides down a narrow path, leading into the forest. The deeper into the forest they ride, the more she recognizes her surroundings. A small smile begins to pull at the corners of her lips. Old memories of a different life flood her mind.

A small brook babbles as they ride next to it, chunks of ice and snow flow downstream. A young deer stands by the water’s edge, ears alert as the king and queen ride past. The sun shines through the edge of the forest, golden rays illuminate the ground, reflecting off of patches of melting snow. Past the trees, they ride into a familiar field. At The top of a small hill sits an old Oak tree, a full-blown smile spread across her lips at the sight of it. Though the leaves have long since fallen from its branches, and it seems to have grown since the last time she had seen it, she is pleased to know it has not changed much in over a year's time.

Calling out for James, Y/n pulls Luna to a halt. He follows suit, circling around to stand next to her, leg brushing against hers. Windswept hair blows into her face, covering her eyes, the blue-eyed man leans across his horse, tender fingers brush the strands out of her face, tucking them behind her ear.

“What is on your mind, M’Lady?” A gust of wind blows through them, making the trees sway, as if they were dancing to a song only they knew. His hand slides down from her face, leaving them to rest atop her hands. The look in her eyes and the flash of her smile is one he knows all too well. He mirrors her smile, with a squeeze of his leg and a slight pull of the reign, he urges Apollo to turn around, the horse whinnies from underneath him.

“Whenever you are ready, my love.” She readies herself, eyes trained on the hill in front of them. In one swift movement, she urges Luna to move, to run towards the Oaktree. Adrenaline and freedom surge through her veins, feelings she had nearly forgotten about. The last time she had raced was with James, she missed the way it made her feel, the freedom it gave her. She missed the wind whipping through her hair and the chill of the wind against her face.

She realizes at that moment that she began to grow accustomed to living in James’ Kingdom, her kingdom. The need to escape, to run away from her royal duties, they have left her. The desire for independence, liberation from being a queen, she does not care about such things anymore. Because now, she has found someone who makes palace life bearable. She has someone who understands her wishes, yet encourages her to continue down her path, no matter the trials that come their way. If at some point any of that were to fail her, if his love and encouragement were not enough for her any longer, she knows that he would run away if she were to request it. No questions asked.

James rides ahead of her, but with a squeeze of her leg, she prompts Luna to go faster. Seconds before they reach the tree, Y/n races in front of him, beating her husband.

“I do believe that makes us three to six.” she declares, recalling their previous races. James gasps, handheld on his heart in offense as he stops a few feet away from where she sits on Luna.

“I beg to differ.” He debates, his mind runs back to their race, there is no doubt he had five wins, she had three. Eyes trained on her as he dismounts, leaving Apollo to eat from a patch of grass, he walks over, handheld out for her to take if she desires. Her touch is warm against his cold skin when she accepts his assistance.

From inside the saddle pouch, Y/n pulls out a large blanket, the same one James had used the night she fell asleep on his shoulder. She had soon realized that was the first time she had allowed herself to trust someone, at least to the point of falling asleep on them. Letting her go for a moment, he spreads the green blanket onto the ground, over a dry patch of grass.

Under the protection of the large branches, they sit on that silent hill where their story began. Y/n tucked safely between James' strong arms, he holds onto her as if the breeze were enough to rip her out of his embrace. They watch, eyes trained on the distant skyline, as the sun hangs over the trees. Colors of ice blue and dusty red paint a beautiful portrait only nature could create.

Another wind blows and she sinks deeper into his embrace, he wraps himself tighter around her, protecting her from winter's bite. "I love you, M'Lady." he whispers against her neck, a shiver runs down her spine at the sensation.

"I love you, Buck." she whispers back as he litters her neck with soft kisses. It is there, in that place of solitude and isolation where they find their peace. It is atop the hill where they first discovered love, where they realized they were two lonely souls seeing affection rather than freedom. It is underneath the Oaktree where they found they were simply two hearts in secret, waiting to be discovered by the other.

______

Part Five

#hearts in secret fanfic #his fanfic #rae writes #king!bucky barnes x princess!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #king!bucky #princess!reader #royal!au #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Twisted 28 - Sunlight [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, hospitals, medicine.

Word Count: 4400

Summary: Survival makes people stronger.

Everyone’s voices were so muffled that for a moment it felt as if you were under water. It came and went just like the warmth, just like the comfort—

One moment there, the other moment far away, and anytime you tried to reach through that haze, you were pushed back into the numbness.

You could swear at some point your father was there too. You were still at the cabin, in that dress, sitting across from him by the chessboard, and then back at the weekend house where your sister was chasing you around the piano, your mother calling out for you to stop running, then someone pushing you into the lake by the cabin before it changed again and your father handed you a knife.

If this is hell, I’d like to talk to the manager.

But eventually, it all came back to you. There was this heaviness on your hand, your chest and ribs hurt terribly and your forehead kept stinging as you tried to open your eyes to meet the bright lights of the hospital room.

Ah. You weren’t in the woods anymore.

You had made it after all.

The constant beeping of the machine caught your attention for a moment before you looked down to see Spencer’s head resting on your hand, his fingers entwined with yours. Your mother was by the couch, her eyes fixed on the ceiling with a crumpled tissue in her hand and Mina was resting her head on her shoulder.

“Mom?” you rasped out and your mother’s eyes whipped to yours, Mina sat up and Spencer’s head shot up.

“Oh thank God!” your mother jumped out of her seat to come to your beside and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making you wince. “Oh thank God you’re okay…”

“Hey,” Mina wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, “Welcome back brat.”

You smiled and turned to Spencer who was still holding your hand tight, watching you with bloodshot eyes.

“I know,” you said, “No eyeliner right?”

A small sob mixed with laughter rose from his throat and he pressed your hand to his lips, swallowing thickly.

“Hi.”

“Hey professor,” you tried to smile but you were in too much pain to do so, “Is there like…a morphine button or-?”

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Mina rushed out of the room and closed the door behind her, and your mother pulled back.

“How do you feel honey?”

“Like I crawled out of hell,” you said, “Is- is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is fine.”

“Where’s Lily?”

“With Kenzie and Nolan, outside.”

You let out a breath and turned to Spencer.

“You figured it out?” you asked, “The note?”

“Ophelia, yeah,” he sniffled and nodded fervently, “Cabin by the lake, we were on our way there when—” he stopped talking as if remembering it was way too heavy on him and you squeezed his hand.

“How did I….” you looked between them, “Survive? Erica shot me.”

“The helicopter,” your mother said, “We sent it with a medic and a sniper just in case.”

“You sent a helicopter with a medic and a sniper?” you repeated, “Mom, that sounds like a joke.”

“Well I’m glad you find it funny,” your mother wiped at her eyes again, “Because you’re grounded for the rest of your life.”

“Okay,” you shot a look at Spencer, “Ignore this.”

“No, not even your boyfriend can help you right now.”

“They still like you, no worries,” you explained and he shook his head slightly, reaching out to touch your cheek as if trying to prove to himself that you were real.

“I thought—“ he started and blinked back the tears, gritting his teeth and you rubbed your thumb over his hand.

“I’m fine,” you said and lifted your head when the thought hit you, “Wait what happened to Lincoln?”

A shadow crossed Spencer’s eyes and your mother flexed her fingers as if she wanted to throttle someone upon hearing his name.

“That monster is currently handcuffed to a hospital bed,” she said, “But not to worry, we put ten guards in front of his door, and I will make sure to ruin his life myself.”

“He survived?”

“Barely,” Spencer said through his teeth but before he could say anything else, the door opened and a doctor stepped in. Even you could hear Lily’s very loud protests, Kenzie trying to shush her and you smiled slightly before turning to the doctor who was checking the file in her hand.

“Hello Y/N,” she said cheerfully “Nice to see you awake, for a moment you had me worried we wouldn’t get to meet. So, we have head trauma, a bullet wound, broken ribs and blood loss. Were you trying to fill out a bingo of dangerous injuries or…?”

“Go big or go home doc,” you nodded and she raised her brows.

“Should I put in a psychiatric evaluation in here as well then?”

“Yes please,” your mother pinched the bridge of her nose and you heaved a sigh, making a face.

“Pain?”

“A lot.”

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” she said and Spencer stood up.

“Can I see her chart please?” he asked and she took almost taken aback before showing him the chart.

“I’d like to change these two meds,” Spencer said and started listing off his suggestions while you watched him with a smile on your face.

“Spencer,” you said, “Please let the nice and smart lady do her job.”

The doctor grinned at you, “That’s alright. Is there anything you would like to ask me?”

“Two questions. One, when can I go home?”

“We’d like to keep you under observation for a couple of days, depending on how fast your body shows progress to heal.”

“Okay. Can I smoke here?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” your mother threw her head back, Spencer just stared at you and the doctor blinked a couple of times.

“Since this job taught me never to take any question as hypothetical,” she said, “I’m just going to answer it. No, under absolutely no circumstances are you allowed to smoke here.”

You curled your lips, “It was worth a try.”

“We’ll give you some really good painkillers, don’t worry,” she winked, “I’ll let the rest of your family in and see you later.”

She walked to the door and opened it, and soon enough Lily rushed inside but as soon as she leaped at you, Kenzie caught her mid-air like a troublesome cat.

“No, what did I say outside?”

“But mama—“

“It’s okay Kenz. Hi bug.”

Kenzie gave you a teary eyed smile and slowly set Lily down, and she hugged her teddy bear before taking a step towards you, nibbling on her lip.

“Does it hurt?” she pointed at the stitches on your forehead and you tilted your head.

“Just a little, sweetie.”

She carefully put the teddy bear beside your bed and grinned at you.

“Mr. Chocolate Chip Cookie will be your friend here,” she patted the teddy bear’s head and you let out a small laugh.

“I really appreciate it bug, thank you,” you said and held the teddy bear in your lap before you turned to Nolan. “Hey man, thanks for the helicopter.”

“Thanks for the almost heart attack,” he replied and fixed his bowtie, “You keep me young with all this panic and adrenaline. Honestly Y/N, never do that to us again, please.”

“I’ll try my best not to get kidnapped by a maniac again,” you stated, “Besides, mom already grounded me so…”

“Good! No jet for you for a while young lady.”

A nurse came in to inject the painkiller into your IV, and you smiled at the sight of your family fondly, then cleared your throat.

“Hey, not that I didn’t miss you guys,” you said, “But um…can I talk to Spencer for a moment?”

Kenzie and Mina exchanged looks and Kenzie lifted Lily up.

“We’ll be right outside,” she said and walked to the door. One by one they left the room and your jaw dropped when you saw Mina squeezing Spencer’s shoulder before she left as well.

“Well, something changed,” you commented and Spencer came to pull a chair next to the bed before he reached out to hold your hand.

“She was the first one to talk to me when we landed,” his voice still didn’t sound so strong and you frowned.

“What did she say?”

“Go there and bring my sister back.” Spencer said and ran a hand over his eyes, “Based on the profile, I thought he’d already—“ he couldn’t even finish that sentence before he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought I lost you.”

“Nah, cigarettes will kill me, not serial killers,” you reached out to push a curl out of his eyes, “I thought you knew that. All looks and no smarts, aren’t you?”

He scoffed a shaky laugh and you licked your lips.

“What happened there?” you asked, “I heard gunshots after Erica shot me, is she—“

“Dead,” Spencer nodded, “She was shot right there.”

You could feel the goosebumps on your skin, “And Lincoln?”

“I was going to kill him,” Spencer said, “If I got there first, I would’ve.”

“Spencer you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he told you, a dangerous light gleaming in his eyes, “I do mean that.”

You heaved a sigh, now easier thanks to the painkillers, “Yeah well, I guess I know the feeling.”

“Um- the team is outside as well by the way,” he said, “Luke and Garcia has been here the whole night, and I’ve been instructed to tell you, word by word, no amount of pastries will excuse the worry you put them through.”

You grinned, the tired haze of sleep crashing on you, “Ouch, I’ll have to try harder I guess,” you said and yawned, making Spencer smile.

“Rest a little,” he said, “I’ll stay right here, okay?”

You nodded and leaned your head back to the pillows, then closed your eyes.

***

You were given the permission to go home after a week because your mother insisted on keeping you there until she was convinced you wouldn’t drop dead all of a sudden. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t raise hell when you told her you would be staying at Spencer’s place for a while, and for once, Mina agreed with you.

You really needed to ask Spencer what had happened while you were gone, in detail.

It was strange, but your sleep was much less disturbed after you had returned from the hospital. When you were in hospital you had just assumed it was because of the meds they had given you, but now, sleeping with Spencer in his bed, there was still no sign of any nightmares.

With you, that was. Spencer was a completely different story.

You still had to be careful because of your ribs and the doctor had told you to be careful with how you slept, so the moment you moved a little in your sleep and felt the pain shooting through you, you made a face and reached for Spencer’s side of the bed only to meet an empty spot. You opened your eyes, and carefully sat up in bed, trying to hear whether there was any noise to signal he was coming back to bed but there was none, so you slipped out of the bed and walked to the living room.

Of course he was there. Cradling a cup with steam coming out of it in his hands, staring into the darkness as if he was lost in his own mind.

“Spencer?” you said softly and he turned his head, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Hey,” he said, trying to smile, “Why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you tilted your head before you went to sit beside him and he ran a hand through his curls.

“It’s not important.”

“Nightmares?” you asked and he nodded silently.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” he murmured, “How about you? Any pain? Do you need an ice bag?”

You shook your head, “Nah it’s fine,” you said, “It doesn’t hurt that terribly.”

“And your nightmares?”

You shrugged, “No nightmares. I mean—at least not like the earlier ones. Not where I’m turning into him.”

“Trauma works differently in everyone.”

“I don’t think it’s the trauma though,” you said, “I think it’s because…because I know now.”

He raised his brows, his whole attention on you, “What do you mean?”

“It’s not in me,” you said, “It’s just—it’s just not. I don’t think it ever was. My father killed people because it made him feel powerful. It wasn’t like that with me, back at the cabin. It was survival. For me and people I care about, that’s all. It doesn’t make me evil.”

That seemed to pull him out of his thoughts and he smiled.

“No it doesn’t,” he said, “You’ve never been evil. Even when he tried to turn you into that.”

Even your heart felt light, despite the pain in your ribs and your smile widened.

“I know he’s not dead but…”

“He’s locked away. Same difference from now on.”

You paused for a moment, “Speaking of,” you said, “I was thinking I could go and see him for the last time.”

He frowned, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I think it’ll help me put this whole thing behind me.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I want to see the look on his face when he realizes his small project failed,” you said, “Trust me. There’s no way he can get to me, not anymore.”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand and you leaned back to the back of the couch, still keeping your gaze on his handsome face.

“You don’t have to come with me,” you said, “If it’s too much.”

“It’s not that,” he rasped out, “Officially, I might not be allowed in.”

“Why not?”

“I’m leaving the BAU.”

You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him, then sat up straighter.

“What?”

“I can’t anymore,” he averted his glances from you to look into space, nibbling on his lip, “Y/N, I was out of the city when they called me to tell me you were missing, that you were most probably taken by the copycat. And for the whole time until I found you…” his voice cracked, “Lincoln’s profile, before we even knew that he was Lincoln, it all suggested that he…killed his victims without spending any time with them. I thought—“ he sniffled and cleared his throat, “I can’t do that anymore. Imagining you like all those victims…”

“Spencer, I’m fine.”

“But you weren’t,” he said, barely moving his lips, “Back there.”

Ah. The woods.

“That’s what your nightmare was about?” you asked and he heaved a shaky sigh.

“I couldn’t save you,” he said, “You died there, and I couldn’t do anything, I was too late—“

“Spencer,” you reached out to touch his cheek, “Hey, look at me.”

He turned his head so that his eyes would meet yours and you dragged your fingertips over the slight stubble on his cheek.

“You weren’t too late,” you told him, “And I didn’t die. Okay? I’m right here. Don’t leave the BAU because of me, do it only if you want to. I’ll be with you either way.”

He blinked back the tears and nodded. “I want to,” he whispered, “I can’t anymore, and I want- I want to be here. I’ll just…I’ll focus on teaching, and the team can consult me whenever they need to, but I need to be here.”

“And you’re sure about that? It’s not some…heat of the moment decision?”

“It’s not,” he said, “I’m positive.”

“Alright,” you smiled at him softly, “Okay then. I guess instead of talking about gruesome murders and copycats who were after me, we can be one of those boring, cliché couples who bicker about…I don’t know, dirty dishes in the sink, or how you forgot to put down the toilet seat or-“

“Your hair in the drain.”

“I’m going to pretend like you weren’t waiting for the opportunity to bring that up.”

He let out a teary laugh and wiped at his eyes before he pulled you closer and carefully wrapped his arms around you so as not to hurt your ribs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You brushed your fingers through his curls, as if trying to prove to him that you were there, that you were alright.

“I love you so much,” the confession left his lips in a whisper and you could feel the burning behind your eyes as you raked your nails over the nape of his neck gently.

“I love you too,” you murmured, “God, you have no idea how much.”

***

The BAU, upon your request, fixed a meeting with your father for the next week.

And throughout that week, everyone tried to convince you to change your mind. Your mother had made a whole scene during brunch, telling you that it was as if you liked torturing yourself, but you knew deep down that you had to talk to him for the last time.

Seeing your father after what felt like a life time, especially after everything that you had been through was strange at the very least. You didn’t have any goosebumps, you didn’t have that nervousness messing with your head, you didn’t feel like you were under the threat of being attacked any time, and most of all—

You didn’t feel like he was stronger than you. At all.

You lit a cigarette in the interrogation room, then flipped the cap of the lighter and turned your head when the door opened and your father walked in, chains dangling from his handcuffs wrapped around his ankles. He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he didn’t expect to see you there and let out a breath.

“Petal…”

“You should sit down,” you said, exhaling the smoke and a guard helped him sit down across from you.

“We’re right outside, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said and watched as he straightened his back, his gaze focused on you.

“You look…” he trailed off and you raised your brows,

“Hm?”

“What did they do to you?”

“Ah I guess your outside source ending up dead gets you a bit behind on the news,” you said, “Erica is dead, Lincoln is never gonna see the sunlight again, and your whole project to turn me into your legacy with the help of them failed terribly.”

“I’d never allow them to harm you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling the smoke.

“But you fought your way out, didn’t you?” he asked you, “Looks like my training helped you after all. Even if you refuse to see that.”

“Did you seriously think I’d become like you?” you asked back, “Did you think Lincoln would manage to turn me into you?”

“Honey, Lincoln was going to be your companion at best, your first kill at worst.” he said and you clicked your tongue.

“Oh, that was your plan all along?”

“Some part of it, at least. I knew they wouldn’t be able to handle you, but I thought you could decide what to do with them. Could you kill Erica at least?”

“Didn’t get the chance.”

“You should have,” he said, “You would see, Petal.”

You twirled the cigarette between your fingers, staring at him for a couple of seconds.

“I keep thinking,” you mused, “You know what I said to Mina and Kenzie when they first told me they wanted to have a baby?”

He tilted his head, “Hm? What?”

“I asked them if they lost their minds.”

Your father pulled back slightly and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Because I mean… Kenzie’s parents are assholes, and there’s you,” you motioned at him, “Not that anyone else could take the cake on being a messed up parent when you’re in the picture.”

“I take offense to that.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “But then it hit me, back at the hospital. I was looking at this whole mess from the wrong perspective.”

“Which is?”

“They had a point,” you said, “Back then- before all this I mean, I thought when someone decided to have kids, their first priority was to be the perfect parent. That’s stupid, it’s impossible to be the perfect parent, our own parents mess us up in one way or another. But I get it now.”

“You get what?”

“The first step is being better than your own parents, not starting out perfect,” you said, “That’s why every generation is different, we’re all trying to be better than our parents, and some of us actually succeed.”

“And you think you’d be a better parent than me, is that it?”

“Shouldn’t take that much of an effort to be honest.”

“Are you…?” he motioned at you and you scoffed.

“No,” you said, “No, but what happened back there made me think. I’ve been living my whole life so convinced that you messed me up beyond my own control, beyond saving, but that’s not completely true, is it? I mean, just because you’re in my past, doesn’t mean I’ll have to include you in my present.”

“But I am in your present Petal.”

You pursed your lips together, then gestured around you. “Debatable. Nolan is buying this whole place, did you know that?” you asked, “All your guards are on our paychecks, so it should be harder to…use them to contact outside. We control everything that’s happening here, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

He blinked a couple of times, trying to catch up with your train of thought.

“And you think that will be enough to put me behind you?”

You shook your head, “No, I don’t think it’s that easy,” you confessed, “But it’s a start.”

He moved his hands on the table, the chain rattling.

“I raised you.” he said, “I’m inside your head, whether you like it or not. You’re my legacy—“

“I’m my own legacy, you fucking idiot,” you said with a small chuckle, “That’s who I am. Just because your expectations of me will not leave me, doesn’t mean I’ll let them haunt me.”

“And you think that will be enough.”

“I will never see you again,” you tilted your head, “Should make things easier, to be honest.”

He smiled, “But you already hurt people,” he said “You know how it feels now, don’t you? That fire? Now you know what you’re capable of.”

You thought for a moment.

“Yeah,” you said, “Yeah I do. Now I know that if it ever comes to that point, I’m capable of protecting myself and my family. It doesn’t make me a monster, it makes me a survivor. Me and mom have that in common, after the shit you’ve pulled.”

He stared at you and you took a last drag of your cigarette, then checked your wristwatch.

“Well I should go. You may have all the time in the world, but I actually have a life, so…”

You stubbed your cigarette and walked to the door but as soon as you opened it, he said your name, making you stop.

“You can’t escape from this,” he said, “Even if you never see me again, you still won’t escape, you know that, right? Why do you think I chose you and not your sister? Even when you were a child, you had…something in you. Something dark, something dangerous.”

The idea was very familiar to you. You had been saying the same thing to yourself for many years and hearing it from him for what felt like a hundredth time was supposed to make you feel bad, you knew that. If it were any other time before your kidnapping, before saving yourself in that cabin, before surviving everything your father and his followers had put you through, it would probably have more effect on you.

The last time he had done that, you had ended up in the stairs, shaking until Spencer had found you.

But it wasn’t that time.

It was as if something had clicked inside your head after everything, and your father’s words held no strength in them.

“Come on honey,” he told you, “Some people are just born twisted.”

A small smile pulled at your lips and you raised your brows, looking at him for a couple of seconds, etching the sight of him in chains into your memory.

“Maybe,” you said and took a step towards him, opening your cigarette case to pull out the small jasmine flower out of it, then put it on the table, eyes locked to his before you leaned in slightly.

“But I wasn’t.”

With that, you turned around and walked out of the interrogation room for the last time, ignoring the way he was yelling your name. Your smile widened as you made your way out of the building, your heels echoing in the halls before you stepped out, the fresh air filling your lungs.

“Hey,” Spencer greeted you, leaning back to your car and reached out so that you could step into his embrace as he pushed your hair out of your face, “How did it go?”

“As expected,” you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips and he heaved a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said “Yeah I feel like…he’s gone. He’s gone, I’m here and I’m free and I know myself now. I finally woke up from that nightmare, for good.”

He smiled and brushed his lips against yours, “That’s a good start,” he commented, “What do you want to do now?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” you said and he tilted his head before he held up your keys.

“What do you say we drive away and never return here?”

You let out a small giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I like that idea,” you said, “Let’s drive away and never return.”

Chapter 29

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #twisted #spencer reid imagine #spencer #reid

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