#that’s not why we are here! that obsession will only bring disappointment! did we learn nothing from tjlc 😔

[summersinyourblood]

Genuine question, but going anon, cause I don't want any angry gelphies after me. 1. Cynthia Erivo said multiple times, that Gelphie is platonic. 2. She is a queer woman, if she wanted to indicate in her performance any romantic interest towards Glinda, she probably would have done so, or would have gotten them put it in the text/script. So why do we think Anything that Glinda may or may not feel is reciprocated by Elphaba?

thanks for the question!

there are many versions of wicked, and of glinda and elphaba - the original book series, dozens of productions of the musical, etc. - and the movie is only the most recent one. many gelphie shippers consider themselves primarily bookverse shippers, or musicalverse shippers, or even shippers of one production in particular.

though i love cynthia erivo, she does not own elphaba. she isn’t the first person to play her, and she won’t be the last. she doesn’t have the final say on the character and her feelings.

even if ms. erivo was the only actress to ever play elphaba, what you’ve described is just not how shipping culture works. it doesn’t (and has never until very recently) depended on whether the actors approve of it - just ask any spirk shipper! playing elphaba doesn’t put her in charge of interpretations of the character forever. that would not only be no fun for anyone in the fandom (not just gelphies!) but counterproductive to media analysis in general.

[roachalk]

I have so many thoughts about Hera's characterisation in KAOS, and at first I was really icked out and disappointed by it but now I'm seeing the brilliance of it.

Dumping some first unstructured thoughts here because I really have A LOT but not enough time to get it all down now.

SPOILERS FOR KAOS BELOW

First off, Hera is the goddess of marriage, women, family and protection of women in childbirth. First episode we are confronted with an unhappy marriage: Riddy and Orpheus. She is his muse, he loves her but doesn't truly know her - it's not a union of mutual love anymore. People fall out of love all the time, and marriage isn't always meant to last. Riddy's mother abandoned her at a young age to serve Hera as a tacita, and her tongue was cut out (in an abstract way this can be seen as NOT protecting women even though it is not in childbirth but it is after childbirth and was also witnessed by Riddy as a child).

Riddy's story in the first episode undermines everything Hera stands for, AND her prophecy is the same as Zeus' (!!!).

ALSO in her marriage to Orpheus she is his muse, she is commodified to bolster his career (not dissing Orpheus here, he's a good guy but he has a job and he is using her as inspiration despite her expressing her discomfort, he really really loves her but the more I think on it he loves her as a muse and doesn't see her soul).

To pivot back to Hera's characterisation: she is not the goddess of love, but marriage and family, which speak of COMMITMENT. Specifically of commitment to the societal structures that preserve ORDER. Zeus is losing it and is now a threat to that order. Why would she have an affair with Poseidon? He has a cooler head and his devotion to her allows her to leverage him as an ally in her purpose to preserve the current order: the reign of the gods above humans.

"You're the king, but I am the queen."

"Power is delegation."

Then there is the royal family: Ari's commitment to her family never breaks, but in contrast to Hera's commitment founded on order and preservation, it is a commitment founded on LOVE (this also helps explain Dionysus' attraction to her because he loves love). She loves her father Minos until she learns of what he did to Glaucus, and why did he do it? To serve the gods, aligned to Hera's purpose and interests. Ari's actions (killing Minos) are guided by love which then amends her lifelong emotional estrangement and hostile relationship with her mother Pas, who immediately recognises the validity of Ari's killing of Minos. To them both, in this scene the value and sanctity of family is not in its function as a unit providing order and structure to the hierarchies of society, but as a place of love. Granted Pas wasn't a loving mother to Ari, but (not excusing her just analysing) she was never over her grief and blamed Ari, irrationally blamed her for the death of Glaucus and for anyone familiar with Jungian archetypes and shadows, what is the inverse of love and forgiveness? Hate and resentment. Pas as a flawed human never did the psychological/internal/soul work she should have done to be a good mother for Ari, but Ari's perseverance and actions in alignment to her own values based on truth and love not only helped her own progression in her journey toward her prophecy but also helped Pas' own healing toward love and forgiveness (this is making me so emotional rn omfg).

And Caeneus, who for 10 years in the Underworld waited to see his mum come through to confront her about his murder. Their family is also based on love, but divine destiny ruptured it. Then at the very end it his love for her despite his long struggle trying to understand her betrayal, his obsession with obtaining closure from her, in the Nothing his love is so great he unlocked a power not even Hades could do - bringing a soul back.

I feel this show was very intentional in its warping of Hera's characterisation because it is a commentary on what she stands for in society today. Marriage and family in capitalism are tools for the preservation of power, the protection of private property, to maintain the social order necessary for capitalism to continue. Do I think the show was trying to go for an anti-capitalist critique? No, at least not overtly or consciously, but so far in my reflections I see that is what is happening and as a commie that makes me a big fan.

[imagobin]

Head canons for Zoldyck siblings reactions to sibling reader hinting they will leave the estate one day and then actually leaving and sibling reader was close to them so 🦄🦄

Omg the drama that could come from this fhgkd thank you for your request! Sorry it took a bit :'3 But I really love this, hope you enjoy what I came up with!

🔯Zoldyck Siblings react to you leaving HCs🔯

📍Illumi📍

Illumi's reaction would definitely be the strongest, he loves all his siblings to quite the obsessive level, so if he ever caught you hinting at the mere possibility of leaving he would not like that at all.

Not only because you're a very capable assassin, and losing such a powerful family member wouldn't be good for business, but because he worries of what you'll even do in the outside world. "Why would you want to leave? You have everything you can wish for here... we all care about you, while out there people will just use and betray you. Trust your big brother, it's better if you stay with us."

You do trust him, he always has plenty of good advice to give, but you also want to do your own thing, discover yourself, so you don't let him convince you.

Illumi would start keeping closer attention to you, monitoring your movements so he can catch you if you ever try to leave, and persuade you to change your mind.

But of course, he can't be there constantly to ensure you don't run away from the family, he's got work to do.

You leave while he's on one of his longer missions, and once he comes back and learns you've ran away he is really disappointed, though of course he doesn't show it.

He wonders if he'd be able to bring you back, or if you'll ever come home on your own. He tries calling you over and over, but naturally you don't pick up, you know how Illumi is, you can't risk him finding out where you are, or he'll somehow get there in record time and take you back home.

Predictably, Illumi wants to track you down and get you back, at any cost, you can't just run away like that, it's incredibly immature and will only serve to worry everyone.

---

🎮Milluki🎮

You could be more direct at hinting you wanted to leave when it comes to Milluki. He might be somewhat of a mama's boy, but he knows when to keep his thoughts to himself. He's not really a fan of family drama.

When you asked him if he ever had a desire to explore the outside world and try new things, he'd looked at you as if you were some sort of alien. "Nah, I'm good staying here. I guess if there could be some stuff worth checking out, but I can get everything I'm interested in right here, so I don't really care about it... do you?"

You softly admitted you did wonder what was out there, he shrugged and the topic was swiftly put to the side for something you both cared about, like anime or games.

The day you do decide to run away though, Milluki will finally understand the sense of that question. He can't help but wonder if you would've let him in on your plans if he'd answered in some other way.

He wouldn't have tried to stop you, he doesn't really care about keeping his siblings from doing things, unless he's ordered to by his mom or dad.

He does think about you sometimes, and texts you occasionally, though you don't always reply. He's happy whenever you do, though you never talk of your whereabouts.

Milluki is okay with that, and makes sure nobody finds out you two are still occasionally in touch, which honestly isn't too difficult since the others rarely come into his room anyway.

He COULD track you down in no time, but won't do so unless someone asks him to, and so far, nobody has, since Illumi prefers to do things his way.

---

🪀Killua🪀

You were the one who accidentally got Killua interested in seeing more of what the world had to offer. You didn't mean to, but the way his blue eyes would light up every time you told him about cool places and fun things normal people did made it impossible for you to stop talking about it.

He ended up running away even before you did, and that only motivated you even more to do the same. Hearing about how much fun he was having while hanging around with Gon... made you wish for friends too.

When you finally left the estate yourself, and called Killua to let him know, he was really excited, wondering if you'd run into each other at some point. "Hah! Took you long enough! And to think that you've wanted to get out for longer than I have... I'm glad about it though, I wonder if you'll find some friends too, but they certainly won't be as cool as Gon!"

You do eventually meet up with him, and he's thrilled to see you again, though he's a bit nervous about introducing you to Gon, fearing he might get along better with you.

It all goes sort of well in the end... because you and Gon talked lots about Killua and your respective experiences with him. It made the white haired boy really embarrassed, but he was also glad that Gon didn't have the time to know you better.

You catch up with Killua as well, ask him what he's been up to and such, then he asks you if you've heard from the rest of the family as well, and you shake your head. You haven't talked to anyone else... aside from your occasional exchanges with Milluki.

After a day spent together, you part ways once more; the boys have their own goals and you got yours after all. But you promise each other to definitely keep in touch and to meet up some other time.

---

🧸Alluka🧸

Alluka was forbidden from setting foot in the outside world due to her dangerous powers. She was the one person you would've absolutely loved to tell everything about it to.

Unfortunately, since she was constantly kept under surveillance you couldn't do that. You tried once, and your mother immediately scolded you, saying Alluka couldn't get those sorts of ideas in her mind.

When you ran away, you didn't have time to say goodbye to Alluka, and due to her isolation, nobody even bothered to tell her you'd gone off on your own. She just wondered why you'd stopped coming all of a sudden.

She only learns of you escapade once you meet up with Killua the second time, and see her there with him. She is overjoyed to see you again. "Y-y/n!! I'm so happy to see you again! I was so worried something had happened to you... nobody would tell me where you were... you've been well, right?!"

Alluka hugs you tightly and you apologize for disappearing so abruptly. You assure her you've been well, and that you're very happy to see her with Killua... outside of that cursed room at last.

You spend a calm day together with her and Killua, where she tells you all about the fun places he's been taking her to. You can't help but be proud of Killua for what he's doing, and you're also excited for what the future has in store for Alluka.

Predictably, once it's time for goodbyes again, Alluka begs you to stay with them instead, not wanting to lose you another time. She gets a little pouty about it, until Killua explains to her she can't choose what you do with your life.

She accepts those conditions and asks you to at least call, because she does want to hear lots from you from now on.

---

🪭Kalluto🪭

Kalluto never stayed away from his mother for long, so, much like with Illumi, you'd have to be careful about what you talked with him, knowing that if you said anything weird, he was definitely going to tell Kikyo.

He did catch you looking at a few books that could've given you away, but you always managed to change topics, and with Kalluto being the youngest, he didn't really feel like he had the right to press you for information.

Besides, he had no reason to doubt your loyalty to the family given how close to everyone you were, you even took time out of your day to spend time with him! Something his other siblings didn't really do that often.

That's why when you did leave, it hit him the hardest. While Killua's departure had been tough to handle, given how he'd always wanted to be noticed by him, your departure felt like he'd lost the one sibling who truly saw him. Things felt much lonelier for him without you around, and he couldn't even call you, because he didn't have a phone at the time.

Kalluto eventually joins the Phantom Troupe in hopes of getting strong enough to take both you and Killua back to the family. What he wasn't expecting, however, was meeting you during that process.

You're super happy to see him out and about, but he didn't leave the estate for the same reasons as you did. "Why... did you run away? Were you not happy with us? You made mother really upset... you made me upset... you made me feel lonely."

Hearing Kalluto state how he felt when you left does make you feel a bit guilty. You assure him you still love your family, but you realized you'd never be able to do your own thing if you never left the estate.

He struggles to understand your perspective, and still hopes you'll go back home one day, but he doesn't want to argue with you, so he accepts it. He demands for your phone number, so you two can still keep in touch.

---

[nolita-fairytale]

call sign: tennessee whiskey | rooster x fem!reader & hangman x phoenix | chapter four

summary: the mission is over but the tension between hangman and phoenix has just reached its boiling point.

warnings: smut (18+ only chapter, mdni), fluff, some angst, enemies to lovers, swearing, mentions of death, military & aircraft carrier inaccuracies, second person pov

wc: 8.4k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: after very rooster x whiskey-focused chapter, i present to you all my hannix obsession. i clearly have never been on a naval aircraft carrier but i did watch some videos and my god why are my tax payer dollars not going to making those way more comfortable to live on jfc?! many apologies if you have been inside a naval aircraft carrier and this is not accurate / you'd never [redacted] on one bc gross. i just needed to give #hannix the scene they deserved ok!?

chapter three | masterlist | chapter five

When the Dagger Squad learns that the mission has been moved up, you’re almost glad that you didn’t take it any further with Rooster. No one has successfully flown the low range course yet, and everyone seems to be in the zone – highly focused, a little snappy – that by the time you board, it’s a whole lot quieter on the carrier. While you’re disappointed not to be selected to fly this one, you think you may be more overwhelmed with anxiety about having to wait on deck, completely out of control. 

“Shit,” you’d muttered to yourself as soon as you realized what was missing. You’d forgotten your lucky charm, which is how you ended up below deck ten minutes before you had to report on deck.

You wouldn’t call yourself superstitious, that is, until you’re hurrying back down to the sleeping quarters to grab your pin. It’s just a small pin, memorabilia from your father’s first record store, that you bring on every single deployment. You’d forgotten it earlier, most likely because you hadn’t been selected to fly, but figured it wasn’t worth taking a chance with. 

Not with Nat out there. 

Not with Rooster out there. 

You grab your pin from where it’s attached to one of the handles of your duffle bag, pinning it to the inside of the sleeve of your flight suit, before hurrying out of the bunk room. As you close the door behind you, you see the tall brunette aviator waiting for you outside. 

Damn, he looks good in his flight suit. 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask him, a panic swelling in your chest. “Shouldn’t you be on deck? We only have a couple minutes before we have to report.”

“I saw you slip out,” he admits. 

“Well, I don’t want to make you late!” you hurry him, gesturing towards the set of stairs that you both need to get your asses up ASAP. Only, he doesn’t move, placing both hands on your shoulders to stop you. You can see fear and a quiet determination in his eyes – it’s a look you recognize – look you’ve had yourself many times.

“I wanted a moment with you before we-, before I left,” Bradley explains, more candidly this time. 

“I just forgot something down here is all,” you tell him, shifting nervously. “But um. I’m glad you did – wanted to see me.” 

Before you know it, Rooster’s pulling you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours again. If you thought he’d kissed you like it was the last night on earth back in Fightertown, this sure as hell topped it. But you don’t want to do this – don’t want to act like this is some kind of goodbye – because he’s coming back. 

He has to. 

You indulge him a little longer before reluctantly pulling away from the kiss, your eyes glossy, as you stare up at the man you’ve found yourself infatuated with. 

“Give em hell, Bradshaw. And then get your ass back here,” you whisper, smiling up at him.

He nods, as if he’s making you a promise. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Listening to the progress of the mission over the radio has you on the edge of your seat. You know Nat’s a tough cookie, a ruthless soldier, and an exceptional pilot, but you worry anyways, your heart pounding in your chest as you listen to the updates coming in from the active pilots over the radio. 

This mission entertains the highest of highs from the first, “Bullseye! Bullseye! Bullseye!” to the lowest of lows. It’s the multiple asks, commands for contact that are met with silence that stop your heart.  

“Dagger Two, do you copy?”

And when you’re all met with silence over the radios, you know it’s not looking good. 

“Whiskey…” Halo trails off as the silence rings throughout your two-seater. 

“I just-,” you pant, your breathing becoming heavier. Your super hornet suddenly feels incredibly small as you grow increasingly claustrophobic – something you rarely feel inside of your F/A-18.

“I just need some air. I-, I’ve got to get out of here for a second.” 

You’re tearing your way outside of your aircraft to breathe for a second. You can hear the comms confirming that Payback, Fanboy, Phoenix, and Bob are all on their way back along with the request from Hangman for permission to fly Dagger Spare. But the sounds slowly begin fading away, and it feels like you’re going to throw up, your heart pounding in your chest. You don’t know how long it’s been, how long you’re lost in your head before Halo’s pulling you back into the aircraft. 

“Whiskey!” she calls to you, giving your hand a big squeeze. “Whiskey! Listen!” 

Sounds begin coming back to you and all you can hear over the radio are the voices of Hondo and Cyclone calling after Hangman. But he’s already taken off, disobeyed direct orders to stand down, flying fast like someone’s life depends on it. 

And they do. 

“Permission to strike, sir,” is the last thing you hear over the radio before the rest is just a blur. 

Hangman’s shot down the enemy fighter plane, saving Maverick and Rooster from certain death, and all you can hear is a symphony of voices, cheers, and orders to return to the carrier as quickly as possible. It’s a celebration from here on out. The entire carrier staff is piling on deck, in an effort to support the landing of both Hangman, Rooster, and Maverick’s planes. When the three deplane, they’re swarmed, aviators and crew members alike celebrating a safe return home. 

You and Halo are climbing out of your super hornet once again, joined by the rest of the Dagger Squad as you fight your way across the tarmac on the carrier. It all happens so quickly, and you’re practically flinging yourself into Jake’s arms since he’s the first one you see – the first one to have a spare moment. He squeezes you tightly, letting out another celebratory laugh as he picks you up off of your feet to spin you around. 

“Thank you,” you finally say, as he puts you down,

He shrugs, as if it’s not a big deal, even though you all know it is.

“Just doin my job, kid,” he says, shrugging off your comment. 

Phoenix rolls her eyes as the two of you exchange a glance. If there’s a time he’s deserved the right to be arrogant, this is it.

“So this is the time he chooses to be humble,” she teases, playfully rolling her eyes. 

“Phoenix,” you sigh, pulling her a tight hug. “Well done! And welcome home.”

You pull away from each other, elated by the success of the mission, and the complete 180 that Maverick and Rooster managed to pull off. You steal a glance Rooster’s way, seeing him deep in conversation with Mav. You’re not going to interrupt, but you’re practically jumping out of your skin to get to him next. As you stand there, Phoenix and Hangman exchange looks. She nudges him with her elbow in the ribcage, eliciting a loud, ‘OW!’ from Jake that pulls your focus. 

“What?” you ask, looking from Jake to Natasha, wondering why they were both acting so weird. 

“C’mon, Bagman,” she groans, putting the pressure on him. 

“What?!” he exclaims. His face falling as he realizes. “No.”

“Yes!” she insists. 

“No!”

“Oh, grow up.”

“Fine.”

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.”

As they turn their attention to you, you look from Nat to Jake, quizzically. Hangman sighs in defeat, his face falling, as he gives up on the idea that he’s going to get out of this. 

He nods in the direction of Rooster and Mav. The look on his face is so genuine that you know he means it when he says:

“Go get your guy.”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“What’re you talking about?” you begin to ask, shooting him a funny look. 

“Nothing gets by me, kid,” Jake chuckles with a shake of his head. 

He knows that, while you weren’t waiting for it, while you didn’t need it, giving you his blessing still means a whole lot. 

It looks like Maverick and Rooster are wrapping up their conversation, leaving the strong embrace they were locked in before. Phoenix shoots you another look of encouragement, as she beams back at you, and it’s really all the encouragement you need. 

“Okay,” you say nervously, looking from one best friend to the other. 

“Okay,” you repeat yourself, quieter this time as you turn to go. 

You can hear Nat celebrating behind you with a ‘yes!’ while she tries, to no avail, to get Jake to high five her. 

It’s almost as if you’re working yourself up to be bold as you walk towards Rooster. He’s just standing there, sweaty and a little banged up, watching Maverick walk away as you approach. You’re not sure how, with one date and a two week period, he’s managed to have you wrapped around his finger, but in your defense it’s been an intense two weeks. Maybe it’s because you asked him to wait – making him a forbidden fruit of sorts – that’s kept you on the hook. 

You’re dying to kiss him again. 

That’s for sure. 

It’s all about the wind up. 

The waiting.

The anticipation. 

“Bradshaw!” you call after him, hoping to catch his attention.

The adrenaline is still pulsing through his body as he turns around in response to the sound of your voice. He’s grinning as he sees you standing there, in your flight suit, the sun just beginning to dip below the horizon. Fuck it. He doesn’t care that you don’t know where exactly this is going and that kissing you publicly will be quite the statement. As the two of you lock eyes, it’s a no brainer. 

The mission is over, completed, and a wild success! You both deserve to celebrate a little. 

You leap into his arms as quickly as you can. Rooster’s embracing you, scooping you off of your feet, unable to hide the silly grin that’s plastered to his face. 

And then he kisses you like he almost died today, and in all fairness, he almost did. His lips are on yours like magnets. He thinks to himself that he may never get over this – may never get tired of kissing you – and it’s only just begun.

Shit, did he have it bad…

“You came back,” you whisper against his lips, as he places you back onto your feet.

“I made you a promise,” he smiles, cupping your face with one of his hands. He pauses to admire you, before leaving one more kiss on your lips.

“You’re amazing,” is all that seems to tumble out of your mouth. Before you can say more, you hear a voice call out for Rooster. 

“Bradshaw!” Hondo says. He looks from you to Rooster, shooting the both of you an apologetic smile. “Sorry to break this up but uh… we gotta get you to the infirmary. Check you out after all of that.” 

All of that. Right. The whole plane-being-shot-down thing. The whole almost-dying today thing. 

But Bradley isn’t ready to part ways with you yet. You feel his fingers interlace with yours as he grabs your hand and asks, with a hopeful look in his eyes:

“Come with me?”

And you’re saying ‘yes’ before he can even finish his question. 

You wait outside of the infirmary for him to get checked out for as long as it takes. He’s got a few bruised ribs, a few lacerations but no internal bleeding, and whiplash the doctors are sure he’ll be feeling by tomorrow, which is pretty good for having been shot down and stealing an old F-14. The minute you’re allowed to go in, you’re right beside him, with no intention of leaving. You’re not sure how, in two weeks, a man you barely know has managed to capture so much of your heart. Chalk it up to infatuation, the anticipation, or a genuine curiosity, but maybe Natasha Trace was onto something when insisting the two of you meet. 

The doctors have come and gone, wanting to keep him overnight for observation. Mav should be here, but he’s not which, doesn’t surprise you considering he’s never followed protocol anyways. Truthfully, you’re grateful to have some time alone with Rooster before you dock tomorrow morning. 

You double check to make sure no one’s listening before deciding to bring it up. 

“Glad my little incentive worked,” you wink, giving his hand a squeeze. 

You haven’t let go of his hand since you were allowed to come visit. 

“Oh I-, I uh. Shit, I can’t believe I’m saying this but…” he blushes, as he stammers over his words. “But uh… I don’t want you to feel like… you owe me that or anything. I mean, I would just be happy with a second date or-.”

“Rooster,” you interrupt, your voice surprisingly even. 

“If I recall correctly,” you lower your voice. You stand up out of your chair, leaning over him so that you can kiss him, just barely ghosting your lips over his. “I promised to rock your world. And I am nothing if not a woman of my word, Bradshaw.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, feeling his heart pound in his chest. His face is flushed red as you kiss his top lip, something you find oh so endearing. 

“Oh yeah,” you mirror his language with a small nod of your head. 

You softly press your lips against his, smiling into the kiss as you promise further, “And as soon as the medic clears you... it is so. On.”

If the adrenaline drop in his body hadn’t been a gateway for the pain to kick in, he might let you ride him right here. He clears his throat trying his best act as normal as possible, like he’s not half hard already. You feel Rooster wrap an arm around your waist, encouraging you towards him as he shifts further up the hospital bed.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he groans, squeezing your hip as he pulls you closer. 

He doesn't need to ask you twice. You grin, climbing into the bed with him and curling up next to him. You rest your head on his chest as he lies on his back, laying on your side so that you can wrap a leg around him. 

You smile again, thinking about how he’s called you sweetheart. 

And how much you liked it. 

You actually can’t stop smiling at this point. 

Hearing it – the pet name – on Rooster’s lips makes you feel so silly in the best way. You’re not a soldier, not a fighter pilot, you’re just a girl with a stupid crush on a guy that you can’t wait to get all kinds of distracted with. 

You can’t believe someone this sexy is also this sweet – still in total disbelief that he would even hesitate to take you up on your offer to give him the best night of his life. 

As you bury your face into his chest, curling up with him, he begins stroking your hair gently, as you relax into him. 

“You’re still in your flight suit,” he chuckles, the rumble of his laugh resonating all through his chest. 

“Well, I didn’t work as hard as you today. Didn’t get the thing all messy. I could go change back into my uniform but… here is nice…” you sigh, sinking into the mattress with him. 

“Yeah. Here is nice,” he repeats, lifting his head to steal a glance your way. 

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you enjoy each others’ company. Bradley runs a soothing hand through your hair as you rest your head on his chest, observing the rise and fall of each breath he takes.

It’s starting to hit you: the excitement and exhaustion of the day. Today had been an emotional rollercoaster and the fact that you’d already grown so emotionally attached to Bradley – or at least the potential of him – had ramped up the stakes more than you wanted when you arrived at TOPGUN. You let out an exasperated sigh, like you can breathe for the first time all day, and you feel like you’re finally coming down, you like that it’s Rooster who’s here to catch you. You feel the vibrations on Bradley’s voice as he says:

“You should get some rest.”

After being shot down by an enemy combatant, and he’s still trying to take care of you?! Where did Nat find this guy?! You don’t even need to see that he’s smiling to hear it in his voice. You feel so safe with him, here in his arms, even though you haven’t known him for long. You close your eyes and take a breath, enjoying the way this all feels. 

Bradley isn’t quite ready to fall asleep yet, so he enjoys your company, trying his best to help you relax. As your eyes flutter closed, he feels like he should pinch himself or something. It’s been such an emotional day. Sure, his super hornet had been shot down in enemy territory. Sure, it had been a dogfight to the very end that could’ve very well been his last. Sure, it seemed like maybe he could start working towards smoothing things over with Maverick…

But this thing between the two of you takes the cake. He’s practically jumping out his skin – excited and curious – about what this could be. He’s enjoyed getting to know you over the last two weeks, and now that all bets were off and the mission was over, he was more than eager to get to know you better. 

There’s something about you that’s left an impression on him, and he can’t get you out of his head. The idea that you wouldn’t be a distraction for him flew out the window after the first date – at least for him – and now that he doesn’t have to focus on a mission, Bradley Bradshaw only has eyes for you. 

*

After looking for you in the rec room and the women’s sleeping quarters, Nat comes to the conclusion that you’re probably with Bradley – everything going according to plan. Between the success of the mission and Operation: Set Up, she’s intent on taking a nice hot shower before joining the rest of the crew for dinner. With a triumphant smile on her face, she gathers her toiletry bag, a towel, and a clean uniform, throwing them carelessly into her smaller-sized Navy-issued backpack. She then takes her down, making a note that it’s wash day, and that her hair is in dire need of a little TLC. 

The bathrooms on these carriers are nothing glamorous, but at least it seems like the ships have gotten a few upgrades here and there. The showers aren’t a single stainless steel hose anymore, offering a proper shower head these days which, she thinks, is the least the Navy can do. 

As she walks towards the shower, not paying attention much to her surroundings after a more-than-eventful day, she runs right into a uniform clad man, causing her to jump. 

“Jesus Christ, Hangman! You scared the shit out of me,” she exclaims, as soon as she realizes who it is. 

“What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at dinner with everyone else?” he asks, bluntly. 

“I wanted to take a shower. What’re you doing here?” she asks back, matching the sassiness of his question. 

He takes a beat. While he could make up something, say something snarky about taking his victory lap, he decides just to be honest with her. 

“I uh… just lookin’ for Whiskey. Wanted to see if she was okay. Hadn’t seen her since we landed and it’s been a day,” he admits with a shrug. 

Of course they’d both be looking for her at the same time. Natasha wonders if this is some kind of karmic payback for parent trapping Rooster and Whiskey. Was this universe fucking with her or what?

“She’s fine. She’s with Rooster,” Natasha is quick to answer. “And don’t even think about bothering them!”

Hangman chuckles, before rolling his eyes. 

“What is with you about them anyways?” he pries, taking a step towards her. 

She shrugs, before answering plainly, “I don’t know. They’re both the best people I know. Thought it was about time they met.

“And what does that make me?” Jake asks back, ready to engage in their regular game of banter. 

“The worst. Definitely the worst, Bagman,” she scoffs, emphasizing the call sign she knows gets under his skin. Natasha crosses her arms across her chest as if to signify that she’ll be standing her ground on this one. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he shoots back, his gaze following her. 

She takes a step forward with every intention of pushing past Hangman so that she can shower, but something stops her. Nat looks down for a moment, only to meet his eyes with hers once more as she looks back up. She feels it’s only right to give him proper credit where credit’s due. 

“I suppose… not today, though,” she concedes, treading carefully. “Today… you get a pass, I guess. But don’t let it get to your head.”

“You’re right,” he smirks, his lips twisting into an arrogant grin. “I am the hero of the day. Glad you finally recognize, Phoenix.”

She rolls her eyes, already annoyed by the blonde. 

“Oh fuck off. I’m not stroking your ego,” she mutters, taking a few steps towards Jake, the only thing standing between her and a hot shower. 

“Well, I got something else you could-,” he starts, an arrogance in the way he talks that makes her want to punch him in the face. 

“Don’t even finish that!” she cuts him off, warning him with the look she sends him. 

“Ha! That’d be something,” Jake quips, with a raise of his eyebrows. “A sight for sore eyes, Trace.”

“You wish, Bagman,” she banters, attempting this time to push past him. 

She lets out the smallest gasp of surprise when Jake doesn’t move, putting her toe to toe with her frenemy. Her eyes meet his green ones once more and she stops, standing so close to Hangman she’s not sure what the hell is going on anymore. 

“Yeah. I do,” he drawls, under his breath. 

Her head spins for a moment, and for once, she doesn’t have a witty reply or a snarky comment to say back. 

She searches his face for any sign that he’s going to take back what he’s said – like there’s no way it could be real. It’s got to be some joke, so dig to get under her skin, an attempt to throw her off her game. But the longer she waits, it begins to dawn on her that it’s not a quip, an arrogant pass at her he’d call a flirtion, or a line he’d use on some bartender at the Hard Deck. It almost sounds like… an admission.

Normally, she’d find it hard to believe – that there could be a genuine side to Jake Seresin – but her mind wanders back to the morning after the bird strike. She’d woken up the next morning and, despite her best efforts, Hangman was still there. He’d spent the night at the hospital with her and Bob despite needing to report for duty at 0800 that morning. She couldn’t imagine that that chair had been remotely comfortable to sleep in, but she’d tried not to think too hard about it.

“You-, you what?” she asks in disbelief. Her eyes flicker away before returning his gaze again, like he’s just said something so absurd –  like he’s just said he’d like to transform into a flying monkey. 

But when he doesn’t answer, Natasha can’t stop the overwhelm of questions bubbling up in her head. The look on Jake’s face is a total curveball that she’s not quite sure what to do with. He’s just patiently awaiting her response, only a little smug that he’s rendered her completely speechless. 

She doesn't know what possesses her to do so – maybe the leftover adrenaline from the mission, the high of flying – but she’s got some questions she’s determined to get answers to. Questions like:

Does Jake Seresin want to kiss me? And what if I like it? What if I like it more than I hate him? 

Slowly, Phoenix raises her hands up to his chest, the tension between them thick. As she balls her fists up with the fabric of the camo uniform he wears, curling her fingers into the woven fabric, Jake watches the movement of her hands in anticipation. The hard planes of muscles underneath her knuckles are hard to miss. It’s not like she hasn’t seen the man shirtless before… but feeling him? Feeling what’s been underneath this whole time is a different story.

“What’re you doing?” he asks her, so quietly, as if speaking any louder would scare her away. 

“A fucking science experiment. What does it look like I’m doing?” she mutters under his breath. And in a way, she is. 

“I-,” Jake starts, hesitantly. 

“I’m testing a theory, Bagman, so… how about you just kiss me?!” she exclaims, impatiently. 

He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. 

Jake folds his much bigger hands around both of her wrists, pulling Nat closer to him with a quick jerking moment. The little gasp she lets out causes him to smirk and for a moment, she doesn’t hate that that’s what his face looks like when he does it.

“I should warn you. I’m an incredible kisser,” he coos, his voice low like he’s trying to do his best Johnny Cash impression.

“Oh shut up!” she snaps, grabbing his face in both of her hands to crash her lips against his. 

It’s the one thing, she decides, that will get him to shut up, and boy, does it work. Natasha presses her lips against his over and over again, sighing into his mouth as he kisses her with a hunger that surprises her. She lets herself get lost in his lips – the way his mouth feels against hers, the fervor and desire they seem to communicate – she realizes that she doesn’t want to stop. It’s almost annoying, really, how much she doesn’t want to stop. 

Jake thinks he may be imagining it, unable to comprehend that Phoenix just may like kissing him more than she expected to. His breath hitches in his throat as he feels her tug on his neck, practically dragging him into the bathroom on the carrier and slamming the door shut. 

He watches as she turns around to lock the door, and he just can’t help himself. 

“What? Data not conclusive enough?” he teases her. “Or you just need more of me, Trace?”

“Yes! I mean, no,” she answers, almost too quickly. Natasha slides out of the straps of her backpack before placing it down next to her. 

“I think I liked it better when you weren’t talking, Bagman,” she snaps, busying herself with the lock on the door. “And I didn’t want anyone to see.”

Jake stands behind her as the click of the door locking rings out in the carrier bathroom. He wonders if she regrets it – only brought him in here for another fight, to tell him it was a mistake and that they shouldn’t have kissed. He slides gentle hands around her hips, pulling her  back towards him once more. This is the point of no return, she thinks. The way she sees it, they have two options: she could tell him to stop, or they could cross this line and never look back. 

“We can stop if you want to,” Jake’s voice rumbles out from behind her, his tone of voice softer; lighter. 

He’s wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him as she stumbles backwards into him. The way he touches her is gentle, thoughtful, and surprisingly respectful because he wants her to know that he means it. 

We can stop if you want to. 

But she doesn’t want to.  

Instead of answering, she reaches up, pulling her hair to the right side of her neck, offering Jake fucking Seresin more of her body. She can’t believe this is what it’s come to. There’s a lump in his throat as he watches, swallowing hard in response to her newly exposed skin. He rarely sees her with her hair down, and Jake can’t get over how beautiful Natasha Trace really is. And this hair… all of this thick, luscious dark hair? It’s giving him ideas….

Jake begins to leave soft kisses over the top of her shoulders, kissing and then sucking on her bare skin. Jake doesn’t know how much control he has left when he hears the first moan escape from her lips, pressing her ass back against him. He uses his lips and tongue again, desperate to hear the little noises she makes as he continues to kiss her neck. 

“I don’t want to stop,” she finally confesses, making sure he knows that she’s in.

Maybe this all made sense. 

All of the bickering back and forth, all of the eye rolls and looks of dismay, all of the resentment and tension had to be let out somehow, didn’t it? Jake feels so damn charged up, and he’s losing his fucking mind with the way she arches her back against him. He’s not going to second guess it, not going to think twice about going where this was going.

Hell, maybe it’s just a ‘what happens on the carrier stays on the carrier’ kind of thing. He doesn’t know and he doesn't need to know right now - not with how good she feels against him. 

There’s a momentary loss of body heat as Nat takes a step forward, and just when Jake’s about to say something, she’s turning back around, pulling the top of her uniform over her head and tossing it on the floor. She grabs his hand, pulling him towards her before crashing her lips to his once again. It’s as if she can’t get close enough to him, her skin on fire if she doesn’t get what she needs from. Hell, she hasn’t even let him get a good look at her in her bra yet before she’s pulling him back to her, so desperate to have his body against hers. 

Her lips are all over his once again, sucking on his top lip so feverishly she knows that both of their lips will be kiss-swollen afterwards. Cupping her face so tenderly, Jake licks her bottom lip, begging for entrance before tangling his tongue with hers, falling further and further down this rabbit hole. 

Jake begins to leave hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and her neck, his hands running up and down her now-bare abdomen. She takes note of how warm his big hands feel as they explore new territory. 

“Not there,” she whines, as he sinks his teeth into the top of her shoulder. She can’t believe she lets out a giggle following, before she adds: “Don’t want anyone to see.”

Jake chuckles, the vibrations deep in his chest as he says, “You think you run this show, darlin’,” in between kisses. With his mouth ghosting over the skin of her collarbone, he looks up at her, catching her brown eyes with his green ones. “Think you can keep me as your dirty little secret?” 

“You are my dirty little secret,” she’s quick to reply, though she’s lost in the way Jake’s mouth feels on her. 

“Hmm,” he hums into her skin. “Seems like I’m going to have to show you otherwise.”

She wishes she had a better reply, but she doesn’t, and soon enough Jake’s sinking his teeth into a particularly sensitive spot above her collarbone, earning a sigh of pleasure from her. His tongue snakes out to soothe the sting of his teeth, and he’s satisfied knowing that when she sees the mark on her body tomorrow morning, she’ll think of him.

“Fuck,” she groans, only mildly annoyed that he won this one.

There’s something about her – something about how she always has the upperhand – that makes Jake want to consume her. He wants to pull the sweetest sounds from her lungs, he wants to see her lose control, eager to turn the otherwise composed aviator into a mumbling desperate mess for him. 

For him, and only him. 

He’s not sure when this started – when he started feeling this way – and he wonders if she’s been thinking about this as long as he has. He grins as he pushes her against the bathroom door, another moan escaping her lips, caging her in between his body and the exit. He strips off his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him, before his mouth and hands begin to move lower. 

Fuck. 

So that’s what’s been lying underneath the flight suit… 

Nat indulges herself, her eyes selfishly taking in the defined muscles of his back and shoulders as Hangman moves down her body. 

“Thought I’d give you something to look at,” he brags, cockily. 

Before she can come back with a witty remark, Jake’s kneeling on the floor, pulling her uniform trousers down her legs, encouraging her to step out of them. He reminds himself that he wants to make this last, wants to drag this out for as long as possible, wants to be the reason she loses her mind entirely today. 

“What’re you-?” she pants, running a hand through her hair. She allows his hands to guide her body where he’d like her to be, pinning her up against the door. She looks down, and the sight of Jake Seresin on his knees for her makes her breath hitch in her throat. 

Instead of answering, Jake looks up, his green eyes gleaming with desire as he glides one of her legs over his shoulder. 

“Fuck, Hangman,” she sighs, her eyes fluttering closed. Jake presses a soft kiss to the inside of her leg, just above her knee, as she finally uses his actual call sign. She figures it's the least she can do if this is going where she thinks it’s going. 

She feels him smile against her skin as his mouth moves higher up, loving the way his call sign sounds falling from her mouth. 

“You don’t have to-,” Natasha stammers, her breathing getting heavier and more uneven as Hangman works his way up higher and higher. 

“Oh but I’m going to,” he coos, a smirk on his face. “You just relax, sweetheart. I got this.”

He wonders if he should ask –  make sure she’s okay with it. But the sound that comes out of her mouth is like music to his ears when he pulls her panties to the side to get his first taste of the aviator he’s never been able to get out of his mind. 

“Oh fuck!” Phoenix cries out with the first contact of his tongue, her eyes snapping open.

Hangman looks back up at her, meeting her gaze as if to make sure he should move forward. She nods, and he’s practically ripping her cotton panties off of her, pulling her hips closer to him so that he can properly do this. Jake’s mouth is back on her, his head between her legs, licking a broad strip up the entirety of her hot, wet heat. 

Who knew that something that was so wrong could feel so right?

She’s beginning to lose control as he wraps his arms around her body, his hands grabbing onto her ass so that he can hold her in place. Jake’s mouth, something she could care less for in any other circumstance, is the one thing bringing her the most pleasure, making her see stars, causing her to cry out as she tangles her fingers into his blonde locks. Head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, Jake brings her over the edge. He thinks he could get off just to the sounds she’s making, her legs shaking, as she moans his call sign when she cums. 

Nat braces herself against the door, her arms shaking as Hangman stands tall, towering over her once again.

“Holy shit, Hangman,” she whispers in between breaths, blinking her eyes a few times. “Who knew that mouth of yours was good for more than pissing me off.”

With a shit-eating grin, he’s kissing her again, letting her taste herself on his lips as she drags her teeth over his bottom one. 

“I have a condom in my bag,” Nat mentions, in between kisses. 

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling away for a moment. 

“Yeah, in my toiletry bag,” she adds, breathlessly. 

Jake cuts the kiss short, bending over to grab the backpack that sits next to their feet. He holds it close to her chest, instantly finding her toiletry bag. Jake unzips it, holding eye contact with Nat as his hands search for a foil wrapper. Unwilling to lose this game, Nat maintains his gaze, noticing that he’s found the condom in her periphery. Holding onto the condom, Jake drops the rest of the toiletry bag, daring her to do something about it. 

Nat snatches the condom out of his hands, and before she can do anything else, Hangman’s picking her up, more than satisfied when he feels her legs wrap around his waist. He makes big strides to the bathroom counter, setting her down as she lets out a squeal. Phoenix busies herself with tearing her bra over her head, then focuses on getting Hangman’s pants off as quickly as she can. 

He helps as much as he can, letting the trousers and his briefs fall to the floor, his belt hitting the floor with a clang. 

She bites down on her bottom lip, holding back a moan as she sees Hangman naked for the very first time. He very well could be the biggest dick on this carrier – in more ways than one. Nat wraps her legs around his waist, this time using them to pull him closer, something Jake finds incredibly hot. He lets out what can only be described as a chuckle and a groan simultaneously. With forehead pressed against hers, he lets his hands trace over her bare breasts, sending shivers down her spine as he lightly pinches one of her nipples. 

Nat’s mouth is back on him in an instant, swallowing his moans in her mouth while she pushes hips against him. 

“Phoenix,” he drags out, hissing as he feels just how wet she is.

She can see how much he’s holding back with the tension in his clenched jaw, trying to maintain control. She smirks in response, pausing the motion of her hips to run her hands down his naked torso. Jake’s grinning like a cheshire cat as she does it, watching her carefully as she admires his hard work. 

“Like what you see?” he baits her. 

“Just put the fucking condom on,” she orders. 

God, he loves how bossy she is. 

Jake reaches for the condom where Nat’s placed it on the counter. His hair is messy from the way Phoenix has pulled at it – from when they were making out, from when he was between her legs eating her out. He takes a few steps back so that he can put it on, tearing the wrapper open and tossing it to the floor. Nat watches him carefully as he slides it on his rock hard length, excited by the anticipation of it.

Holy shit, she thinks to herself. I’m about to fuck Jake Seresin.

And it had been too damn long since she’d last gotten laid. 

She’s reminded that she’s never been good at hiding her facial expressions when Jake asks:

“You uh… you good?”

She shoots him a confused look in response as he takes a step towards. 

“I mean. I just want to make sure… that you wanna do this?” he adds, softer this time, as he searches for clarity within her. 

This is a new side of him she’s seeing. 

“Come here,” she encourages, holding her hand out to him. He takes it, taking a few steps forward until he’s standing right in front of her. Jake waits for her to continue, for her to tell him something, but instead of words, Nat’s sliding her hands over his shoulders, pulling him so that she can kiss him. 

“Damn, Hangman,” she says, her eyes flickering over back down to his length. 

Maybe he did have a reason to be so cocky after all. 

He chuckles, followed by a hiss as he feels her hand wrap around his dick, dragging his latex-covered length over her core. Jake leans in, cupping her face as he plants one more kiss on her lips once more before lining up the tip of himself with her entrance.

They both gasp at the feel of each other, a brand new sensation as he enters her for the first time. 

“Holy fuck, Trace,” he groans, pushing further into her. “You feel too damn good.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she pants, enjoying the delicious way that he stretches her. 

When he’s finally all the way in, Jake gives her a moment to adjust. He kisses her gently, and with the way she’s pulsing around him, he thinks he deserves a gold medal for exercising this much self restraint. He begins to pull out, pushing back in at an experimental pace a few times. He fills her so well, but she won’t tell him that yet. 

“C’mon, Hangman,” Nat whines, in regards to the incredibly slow pace he’s set for them. “That all you got?”

Pausing just as he fills her completely, Jake looks at her, raising an eyebrow. 

“Should’ve known you’d like it rough, Phoenix,” he croons. He’s mentally preparing himself because while he wants so badly to ruin her, he thinks he may ruin himself while he’s at it. 

“Should’ve,” she dares him, her voice filled with lust, dying for him to properly fuck her. 

He meets her brown eyes once more with his, almost as a warning, like this is the last chance she gets before they both lose control. Nat’s lips twist into a smile when she notices the way his jaw twitches, so on the edge of going mad. 

“I’m not going to back out now, if that’s what you’re waiting for. And I want your best, Lieutenant.”

Jake groans in response and he feels his dick twitch inside of her when she calls him ‘Lieutenant.’ He grabs a handful of her hair, pulling her head back and earning the sweetest moan he thinks he’s ever heard. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes, before pulling out only to slam back into her with a force that makes her see stars. 

“Fuck!” she shouts, feeling the rough snap of his hips. 

It’s as if he’s lost all reins of control. Jake pounds into her with an urgency that’s made him dumb. The way she moans his various names, cries out when he hits that particular spot deep inside of her, grasps at his shoulders, his back, his hair. And then she’s snapping her hips into his with an equal amount of intensity, lifting one of her legs up over his shoulder, making Jake wonder if she’s always been this flexible. 

What the hell had he been missing out on?

Had they just wasted all this time bickering, bantering, and competing back and forth when they could’ve been doing this? 

He doesn’t think he’ll last much longer with the way she’s squeezing around him. With one leg strung over his shoulder, he grabs Nat’s hips, fucking into her like he means it. 

“Fuck, I-, I think I’m gonna,” she stammers out, the pleasure all too much. 

“Phoenix, god damn,” he moans, though he’s hesitant to keep up this pace wanting to make this last longer. “You feel too good.”

He’s not sure what it is – perhaps, the slightest change in pace, a hesitancy that wasn’t there before – that grabs her attention. 

Her eyes snap open as she warns him. 

“Don’t you dare slow down,” she begs, though it comes out sounding much more like a demand than a please. Nat bucks her hips into his, so close to her orgasm. “Seresin, please.”

And it’s the way that she says ‘please’ that makes him think he’d give her anything she wants. He drives into her, holding her hips down as he takes her over the edge, with an intensity that could launch a missile into space. She’s crying out to the gods – words like Seresin, Hangman, and fuck – but not Jake when she cums. But Jake could care less, because she feels too good, and he’s right behind. He cums with a strangled moan, burying his face in her neck as he fucks the both of them through their highs. 

Natasha tries to catch her breath, coming down from her high. She feels him begin to soften inside her, and Jake pulls out, leaving their close quarters to dispose of the condom. 

“Um, so that happened,” she sighs, running a hand through her as she tries not to pretend that she’s not still weak in the knees. 

“It did,” Jake says, returning to where he stands right in front of her. 

She hops off of the bathroom counter, standing toe to toe with Jake once again. Her legs are still shaking, but she doesn’t want Hangman to know that. She braces herself against the counter, using her arms to give her more stability so she doesn’t give herself away. 

“I um- I’m gonna shower. See you at dinner?” she stammers, trying her best to act normal. 

“Uh yeah,” Jake exhales, thrown by how casual she’s being. 

Like he hadn’t just been inside of her a minute ago. 

He can’t tell whether or not he sounds as disappointed by her comment as he feels, because he can barely get a read on her. 

Nat stands up taller, wrapping her arms around his neck once more to kiss him goodbye. She gives him a half smile, before pushing past him to gather her things for the shower. 

He’s not sure what he expected. That they’d fuck and he’d finally have the courage to tell her how he feels? That she’d tell him she’s had these feelings for him for a while now? That now she won’t be able to get him out of her head? 

Jake can take a hint, and as Nat turns the shower on, he begins to get dressed. Pulling his uniform trousers back on, he walks over towards the door to the bathroom, picking up his shirt too. 

He steals one more look Phoenix’s way. 

She seems to have busied herself with setting out her things for her shower, preoccupied with well, anything but him. Phoenix keeps her eyes fixed on the small travel-sized toiletries she’s collecting for her shower, and when she hears the door close behind her, she knows Jake has finally left. 

“Shit,” she mutters to herself. 

She’s not sure how to feel about what just happened, but she feels like an asshole about how she just handled the aftermath. 

They fucked. And she liked it. 

She regrets not saying more, but it’s as if, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get the words out. Part of her feels bad for kicking him out like that, and the other part of her feels relieved because what the actual fuck just happened. 

Phoenix steps into the shower, hoping the feel of the hot water against her skin will give her some clarity.

What the fuck just happened. 

And why?

And why do I want it to happen again?

And what does this mean?

She barely hears the door open over the sound of running water. It’s not until she hears footsteps, a rustling sound of a toiletry bag, and the clang of a belt hitting the floor that she realizes she’s no longer alone. 

So much for getting to think overthink in this shower… 

“Phoenix?” shee hears a voice call after her, surprised to find that it’s the same voice that had been moaning her call sign a few moments ago. 

“Uh… what’s up?” she asks, her eyes widening as soon as she realizes it’s Hangman. 

When he doesn’t answer, she pokes her head out from behind the shower curtain. Hangman’s there, a towel hanging dangerously low around his waist, his back pressed up against the edge of her shower stall. 

“You forget something?” she asks, matter-of-factly. She’s unable to fathom that, after practically kicking him out and most likely wounding his ego, that he’d be back for more this soon. 

He shakes his head, shrugging carelessly as he asks:

“Can I join you?” 

There’s an arrogant smile on his face, something she bet works on most women. She’s barely caught up with herself before her mouth is saying ‘yes,’ her mind still stuck on ‘what the fuck is happening?’

Nat ogles him shamelessly as Jake removes his towel, making as much space as she can for him in this tiny shower. He steps in, and they maneuver themselves around the small space so that they’re chest to chest. Jake hasn’t taken his eyes off of her, holding her gaze as he finds himself here with her… again. 

Nat breaks their staring contest, following her fingertips as she traces shapes across his broad chest. She’ll give it to him. Maybe you do earn some rights to being an arrogant son of a bitch when you look like this. She raises her other hand to his chest, gently dragging her nails down his torso, earning a hiss from Hangman. 

She smirks, as she looks further down. 

“Already, Bagman?” she asks, eyeing his growing erection. 

“You know I hate it when you call me that,” he rasps, his eyes closing as she wraps her hand around his increasingly hard length. 

“You love it,” she counters, her voice soft and velvety as she taunts him. 

And as he turns her around so that he can slip himself back inside of her for the second time today, she finally says it. It’s sounds like something between a strangled moan and a desperate plea as the word tumbles out of her mouth:

"Jake."

read: chapter five

*

a/n: god i love them sm. don't worry, folks. rooster x reader content coming v v soon. can you believe hannix beat rooster and whiskey to the punch?!

taglist: @not-two-shrimp @wishfulwithwine @hangmanscoming @thefourrealms@hlkwrites @dlea203 @translatemunson

[zee-rambles]

Hi Zee! new follower that came across your pinned post by chance very recently. Maybe a weird ask ahead, totally fine if you don't answer,

Do you really believe rise can still be saved? Because a part of me is still holding on, and the new andy sketches have been torturing me too. Ive signed all the petitions, done everything I can, I feel like its not enough. It's weird and been bothering me for the last few months, though I've never felt this way before about shows that didnt make it. How do you cope with the feeling, as a long time rise fan? Do you? Obviously not a therapist lmao just curious, trying to learn how to deal with a three year long obsession. Thank you.

I don’t know how many people are going to read this, but here goes.

So, I really tried to think of a nice, clear way to answer this question, but then I realized: it will never be perfect. All I can do is be genuine.

Yes. I do believe that Rise can still be saved. The same way that I hope that many of my favorite shows can return. And I do this because I simply choose to believe it. I choose to have hope. I don’t know, I can’t promise it will come back, but if I’m being true to myself, I choose to hope for the future that I want, and that future includes Rise in it. I once thought I would never get to see the Hey Arnold Jungle Movie, thought I joined the movement too late to bring it back…but it happened.

And I thank you for doing what you can. I did a lot for this show in the last two years. Been recommending it in real life, posting about it anywhere I can, supporting and uplifting other fans, liking as much art, and advertising projects as much as I can. I even put Rise related gifs in the comments of things I react to on social media, hoping that someone will get curious and give it a chance. I’ve sent emails, signed petitions, rewatched as many good videos as I can so that the algorithm can recommend it more. I’ve done a lot. I’m just…slowing down right now because I have a huge project I need to complete in order to graduate from Uni, and because it is hard to advocate for something on your own.

Unless someone is a billionaire and has ties to Hollywood, no one person can bring back Rise. It has to be a collaborative effort from as many fans as possible.

And I’m a lot like you. I’ve never felt this strongly about bringing a show back before. I didn’t even think I would be the person that most fans come to for hope. I just saw that no one was doing what I was hoping they would do: encourage fans not to give up. So I became that person.

I’m not going to lie. I did go through a grief process at first. I was genuinely heartbroken, especially when I notice that slowly but surely, people move on. That happens. It’s normal. But I don’t want to move forward without knowing that I did something. I didn’t just sit there and cry that things were unfair. I gave it my best shot. Sure, I may be wrong, and I may be disappointed, and nothing may come out of it. But I tried, a it’s a 1000 times better to try something, and fail at it, then to never give it a shot.

If I got just one person to fight for Rise, to sign those petitions, to make an effort, that’s enough for me. A victory is a victory, no matter how small. I remember when that petition was only 3 thousand signatures and now it’s over 10 thousand. I think that, as long as we don’t give up, as long as we keep spreading the word, as long as we try our best to bring in new fans, there is a chance. Someone sees a video with the hashtag #saveROTTMNT or #unpauseROTTMNT on YouTube, or insta, or wherever, and digs into the story, falls in love with the show, and tries to get in on the action.

Spectacular Spider-Man fans haven’t given up. Teen Titans fans haven’t given up. I don’t see why we should. And yes, there is always a possibility that the show may never return. But, just as much as there is a possibility of something bad happening, there is also a possibility of something good happening. We’re just pre-disposed to notice the negative, because part of survival is keeping our resources. We could gain 10 good things but still be heartbroken if we lose 1 thing, even if that 1 thing was a bad thing.

At the end of the day, I’ll say this. It’s okay to love something. It’s okay to be sad that it’s over. It’s okay to have a passion for something. It’s okay that a show inspires you, is there for you when you’re alone and scared, that it gives you hope, that it makes you happy, and so on. It’s okay to fight for it if you love it…and it’s okay to let it go, if you need to, or step back if you need to. There is no right way to enjoy a piece of media.

It’s all a choice. At least for me. I choose to do something. And I choose to forgive myself if things don’t work out. I understand that I’m human and there is only so much one person can do. There is no harm in hoping, or believing. I just do it because I want to. Because…well, hope is a ninja’s greatest weapon.

I don’t know if this answers your question, or if it was what you were hoping for. Sometimes we need to figure out an answer for ourselves. That was my answer.

I hope you keep finding things you love and that they bring you joy.

[landscaping-your-mind]

I know I said I wasn't going to post another TMA fic, but I've been getting into it a bit more, so here goes. It's a vampire AU! It's not complete, but I have been working on it on and off. I never thought i'd actually finish it enough to post, but here's a first bit :3

---

Jon hates job interviews, especially ones he’s not qualified for. But he wasn’t qualified for research, either, with a degree in literature, so it can’t hurt to try. Besides, if he doesn’t get the job, he might get the assistant archivist position, learn a few things. All in all, it’s going to be good for him.

His anxiety is not convinced.

“Mr. Sims?” calls Mr. Bouchard, leaning out of his office. Jon stands up and takes a deep breath. The worst he can do is say no.

Mr. Bouchard ushers Jon into his office, closing the door behind him, and taking a seat in his chair. Jon sits in the other, and tries his best not to look as anxious as he feels.

“So, tell me, why do you think you are the right fit for this job?”

Jon recites his rehearsed speech about how he’s committed to the preservation of documents, deemed both important and not, about the skills he learned in research, his own interest in anthropological research into the supernatural and his disappointment in the state of the archives disorganisation. It’s convincing, he’ll say so himself, and as he talks, he thinks he can see Elias warm up to him.

Hello, Jon. Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself. I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, the Archivist.

Statement begins.

I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, John, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirke first gathered our little band – Lukas, Scott, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayner, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirke was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced Smirke to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years, for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all Smirke’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus.

You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.

But Gertrude was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, Gertrude’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinsons throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago.

Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.

The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, John. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.

Do you see where I’m going, John?

It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.

I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during Gertrude’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor Helen. I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

Jurgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I… justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

Still. I’d requested Detective Tonner be assigned to the case when they found Gertrude’s body in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. Crew, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with Melanie and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something the Unknowing served to test, though it posed no actual danger in the grand scheme of things.

And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colours.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you Knowing something you shouldn't.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective Tonner has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about Martin.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, John. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now, repeat after me.

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

[panther-os]

Okay okay so here are questions for your bastard children au.

1. How does Ghost find out that Cam is a half brother? How did that conversation go? What did Cam react to realizing Simon Riley isn't dead and actually a scary mf in the 141? And how did Simon react to learning that his basterd father was more of a basterd than he thought?

2. Will the other siblings learn about Giles = Simon? Or is it a secret between Cam and Simon? I cant imagine it would be safe to tell all these people he barely knows. But also, they are family...

Probably more questions to come, but these are the main ones for now 💕💕

So there are several ways I'm playing with the reveal going! But basically it boils down to Cam is not ashamed of Simon, he is proudly open about who his older brother is and what he means to him. He doesn't go around announcing it, but when talking about why they wanted to join the military, he just very clearly goes "My older brother, Simon Riley, was in the service, and I want to be like him and make him proud of me. Yes, that Simon Riley, no, I don't think he's guilty. I never met him, but everyone said he was sweet, if grim, and he was very protective of his family, even and especially after he came back on leave. I don't believe he could've done it - killed the American? yes. killed his brother and mother and baby nephew? absolutely not."

Cam also talks to "Simon" out loud sometimes. Like a mission will go well, and he'll sigh and look up at the sky or into thin air and go "We did it, Simon. We made it through." (And Ghost will nearly break his own neck doing a double take if they were paired together for it.)

Cam is just glad Simon's alive and glad that he and all the other siblings were right and he was innocent. Though, he is a little sad he can't tell the others, especially Jambo. I forgot to say in the last ask, but Jambo is a computer nerd obsessed with proving Simon's innocence. He has maybe gotten in trouble for hacking government records (mostly because he's bad at it). Not even he thinks Simon's still alive, though.

Ghost is scared as fuck for Cam and the others. He's lost all his family before, he's almost certain it'll happen again. Cam gets in his face about it when the avoidance gets extreme though and is like "I chose this life, too. You only get to dictate the risks I take in my professional life, as my mentor and superior officer, not in my personal life as my brother. We are both adults." After that, things get smoother, and he agrees to be added to the groupchat with the best cyber security Laswell can set up on his end.

As far as learning about his half-siblings' existence... he's disappointed in his dad but not surprised. Or surprised that his dad is a disappointment. 🤷‍♀️

Keegan for sure finds out eventually, when the Ghosts and 141 finally team up. I think the others will start to suspect after a while, but they're not saying nothing. If Giles is Simon, they don't want to get him in trouble with the authorities, and if he's not, they don't want to upset him by treating him like someone he's not. So they all know but they're not talking and they don't Know. Not even Jambo. And this is 100% to keep them safe, Cam and Keegan and Simon all chose to enlist, the others did not. And Kitty is roughly the same age Joseph was when he died, which makes the feelings More Complicated for Simon. He got PTSD up the wazoo.

One thing that is related to it being family, though, is that Ghost's maternal grandmother - his Mamó Caoimhe (pronounced sort of like Mamaw Keeva), who he was super close to - is still alive. The Bastard Children in Manchester all take turns checking in on her and bringing her food and giving her company. They've never said they're her son-in-law's offspring, but she definitely suspects. But Ghost cut off all contact with her for the same safety reasons and supposed to be dead reasons after the massacre, and it gives him peace to know she has people looking after her. Specifically, being able to get regular updates on how she's doing without putting her in danger by showing up himself or straight up hiring a stalker - or begging Laswell - does his mental health a world of good.

I think that answered all your questions? 😅 Let me know if I missed any!

[crazyblondelife]

Play It Again - My Vintage Hat Collection...A Series

I’ve been talking about my vintage hat collection for a while now and I’ve finally decided to start sharing them as well as some of my story and why I love anything vintage!

My hat obsession is an odd one because I’ve never felt I looked good in hats…my head is small. Vintage ones seem to be smaller so they fit my head better. Mostly, I see them as works of art and as a way that women were able to express their individuality.

My hat collection began when I was in our local thrift store one day. I was taking a donation and decided to look around a bit because you never know what you might find. I made my way to the counter to get my donation receipt, slightly disappointed that I hadn’t found a treasure and that’s when I noticed hat boxes stacked up on the floor…lots of hat boxes. Someone had come in and donated their mother’s entire collection of hats and I bought them all…some of them, sight unseen. I think I paid $100 for 12 hats!

I was very excited and couldn’t wait to get home and go through them to see what I had bought and believe me when I say…I had some treasures.

For several years, they stayed in the closet and I would bring them out occasionally and look at them and put them back up. All the while, I was adding to the collection, but only one or two at a time. They’ve become harder to find and when I do find one…I snatch it up and bring it home.

I’ve always been drawn to vintage things.

When I was about five years old, our family moved into an old house. The house had, at one time, belonged to a family that owned a local department store. It had fallen into disrepair and the last lady of the family remained in the house…old and unable to keep it up. When she died, my parents bought the house and there were many things left in closets and in the attic.

Obviously, in 1968, my sister and I had to make our own fun. Our television was very small and had aluminum foil on the antennae so it didn’t work very well and so…that wasn’t even an option.

There was no air conditioning in the house, but there was a huge attic fan that kept air moving and, on either side of the fan in the attic, there were two rooms…filled with old trunks! The old trunks were filled with ladies clothing probably from sometime in the late 1800’s. I still have a few pieces somewhere in my old house. There were also lots of old newspapers, medicine bottles and an assortment of other things. It was an amazing thing as a child to be able to go through those trunks and play with the clothing. I wish we had realized the value of the things we were playing with, but we didn’t and I’m sure some of it was ruined.

That experience is probably why I love vintage things and old houses to this day. It’s so much fun to imagine the people who wore the clothes and lived in the houses…who were they, what did they do?

Every time I put on one of my vintage hats, I wonder about the person who wore it and were they would have gone.

I’m just now starting to do some research on the history of women’s hats, and as I share the collection here, I’ll share a little more about what I’m learning.

The hat I’m wearing in these pictures is one from the collection I bought at the thrift store. At the time, I was probably in my early 50’s and I’m guessing the person who donated them was about the same age. That would have made her mother about 80 years old, most likely. So that would mean that she was born in the mid 30’s. This would lead me to believe that this hat was worn in the late 40’s or early 1950’s.

This hat is one of the plainer hats from my collection. I have several feather hats and some that are very large and definitely make a statement! The hard part about wearing these hats is figuring out what clothes to style them with, and also, what to do with my hair! I’m going to put a little time and thought into the styling and show you how I would wear these hats and make them feel relevant for today!

I so enjoyed writing this post and sharing a little of my life! I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as well! Please leave a comment and let me know!

[cable-knit-sweater]

Let Your Hair Down

By @cable-knit-sweater , @controlofwhatido, @cynefinhome & @sparkagrace

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: Teen

Notes: @controlofwhatido said “Someone needs to write a fluff fic about Bucky learning the 'plop' method that's been going around everywhere to really bring out his curls.” And we all had some thoughts. So here you go, Bucky finding his curly hair routine and becoming a YouTuber, Steve getting in the way because he can’t keep his hands off of Bucky. I apologize for the title card 😂

Bucky’s been on the couch watching these videos for over an hour now. Steve hasn’t paid much attention, but apparently it’s about hair, even if terms like “curly girl method” and “diffuser” and “sulfate free” mean nothing to him.

He tries to look over Bucky’s shoulder, and catches part of something that looks like a tutorial for doing curly hair. His lips curl into a smile. Bucky has always spent a lot of time on his hair. “That looks like it’d be a lot of effort, Buck,” he murmurs after the woman in the video shows the products she’s used once more.

Bucky stares up at him with a frown, then turns back to the video, shaking his head. Steve chuckles, but can’t resist running his hand through Bucky’s curls before he walks away.

A couple of days later, the door rings and a delivery guy drops off a bunch of boxes, all with Bucky’s name on them. “Uhm, Bucky?” He asks, walking into the living room with the boxes stacked in his arms. “Buck? I have a package for you.”

Bucky walks up to him, smirking. “I’m sure ya do,” he says, making Steve roll his eyes, but he can’t keep the smile off his face. Unfortunately, Bucky is more focused on the packages when he spots them than he is on Steve’s package, lighting up at the sight of them and taking them from Steve’s hands.

“I have to go shower,” Bucky announces, but he doesn’t move yet, just goes to open the boxes. He takes out multiple bottles, cans and tubs of product, different combs, and something that looks like a hairdryer, but comes with this weird attachment that Steve hasn’t seen before.

“What is all this?” Steve asks, like he can’t see they’re all hair products.

Bucky looks at him like he’s a little stupid, which, fair. “It’s for my hair,” he says dryly.

“Yeah, I can see that, but…don’t you already have stuff that works?”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, that’s not good for my hair. It dries it out. This is specifically for my curl type.”

“But…that’s so many products.”

“Steveee. I need to try out what works best, I’m not gonna put all of this in my hair at the same time.” Bucky goes to explain more about the products, and how he’s supposed to use them. Steve gets lost somewhere around the explanation of co-washing. Still, Bucky seems excited about all of this, so Steve smiles and just listens to him talk.

At some point, Bucky’s excitement is clearly getting too much for him to wait much longer, and Steve lets him go take that shower. He’s only a little disappointed that he’s not allowed to join him.

Thirty minutes later, Steve walks into the bedroom, finding Bucky just in his boxers and sitting in front of the mirror, using a t-shirt to dry his hair by…scrunching it. “What are you doing? Why not use a towel like- wait, is that my shirt?” he asks.

Bucky’s silence betrays him a little. “Uhm yes, it was the best thing to use for this?” He finally says, pausing the tutorial he was playing on his phone again.

Steve chuckles. “Didn’t want to use one of your own shirts, huh?”

Bucky’s head is tilted slightly, curls hanging over his face, but Steve can see him smirk a little through the curtain of hair.

He leaves Bucky to it when he gets slapped with a wet shirt for touching the weird hair dryer thing. It takes a long time for Bucky to finish doing his hair - even longer than usual - but when he walks into the living room, Steve can’t deny that the effect of whatever he did, is incredible.

Now, Steve’s always been a little obsessed with Bucky’s hair. He loves that he’s keeping it longer these days, loves to run his fingers through it, loves the way Bucky looks in the mornings: sleep soft and messy curls in his face. But whatever he did now…his hair looks even shinier than usual, perfectly curled. The satisfied smile on Bucky’s face makes it even better.

He holds out his hand to Bucky, pulling him into his lap. “Wow,” he breathes out. “That is really worth it, god you look good Buck.” Steve’s heart flutters a little at the sight of Bucky blushing and ducking his head down.

“You think so?” He asks.

Steve runs his hands through his boyfriend’s hair. “Yeah, whatever you did, it…it looks amazing.”

“Thank you,” Bucky murmurs, before frowning a little and pushing Steve’s hands away from his hair. “Don’t mess with it too much though, I’m FaceTiming with Nat later and I want to show her.”

“But I can mess with it after?” Steve asks, smirking.

Bucky presses a kiss to his lips. “Yeah, you can mess with it later,” he says back with a grin, getting out of Steve’s lap, probably just in case. Which is smart because Steve doesn’t think he can take his hands off Bucky much longer.

For some reason, Steve thought Bucky would just stick with this routine and that would be it. He’s wrong. Bucky tries out all the different products he’s ordered: masks, conditioners, leave-in conditioners, shampoos, gels, serums…Steve is still not sure what they’re all for, except the obvious ones.

He tries all of them out, asking Steve what he thinks, and usually Nat and Wanda too, because he doesn’t seem to trust Steve’s judgment. Which, yeah, he really shouldn’t, because Bucky could wear his hair in a messy bun every day and Steve would still think his hair would look perfect. The deliveries don’t stop either, new boxes of products arriving at their place almost every week.

One morning, when Steve’s just waking up, he can hear Bucky talking in the shower, but he doesn’t think much of it. Bucky’s been doing that more and more recently.

Slowly, he gets out of bed to get dressed and get started on breakfast. But when he looks through his dresser for a shirt, he can’t find any. He’s starting to get used to not having anything to wear because Bucky’s been using his shirts to “plop” his hair every time, and all his shirts end up wet or covered in product.

Still, he’s thinking about going through the laundry basket to see if there’s anything clean enough to put on. But then Bucky gets out of the bathroom, still talking…about his hair routine?

He’s holding his phone camera pointed at his face, recording himself. Steve stays seated on the bed, giving him a curious look. Bucky looks back at him appreciatively – clearly he doesn’t mind the lack of shirts either – but then continues his story, talking about the next start in his process.

Bucky sits down in front of the mirror again, showing the camera the leave-in product he’s about to apply. Apparently, he already stole the last of Steve’s shirts because he uses it to plop his hair when he’s done doing that. Steve just looks on, not realizing he’s doing it until Bucky pauses the recording and looks at him.

“Steve, what’s with all the sighing?”

Steve smiles. “Nothing. Just love watching you do this.”

“Can you do it a little quieter? I’m trying to explain my routine to people.”

“Aren’t there hundreds of videos already of people doing that?”

“Yes, Steve, there are, but almost none for men. And not so much for my hair type. I’m trying to make men feel good about their longer curly hair too.”

Steve melts at that. “That’s…that’s amazing, Buck,” he says softly. “I’ll be quiet?”

Bucky smiles back at him. “Okay, then you can keep watching.” He winks at Steve before going back to his recording.

At some point, Steve can’t help himself anymore. Bucky’s done with his routine so he’s sure he’ll stop recording soon. He gets off the bed and walks over, doing his best to stay off camera.

When he’s next to Bucky, he’s suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to have his hands in Bucky’s hair. He gives in to that urge, running his fingers through the soft, slightly wet strands.

“STEVE,” Bucky yells only a second later. Before Steve can respond, he gets water sprayed in his face. Bucky stares at him, incredulous, holding a spray bottle in his hands. “You can’t touch it until it’s set, you’re gonna make it frizzy!”

Steve has to laugh at the reaction. “You mean if I do this,” he asks, running his hands through Bucky’s hair again.

“No, bad boy, stay away,” Bucky says, spraying him again, but he’s laughing too. “Also, go put a shirt on or something. People thirst over you enough as is, begone!”

Steve tilts his head, picks up the wet shirt from the ground and puts that on. It’s a little uncomfortable, but it’s worth it with how Bucky looks at him, eyes darkening, staring at his chest again.

Bucky turns around to face his camera. “Well, that’s it for now, I’ll link the products below, this was the Bucky Curl Method, I’ll see you next week,” he rushes out before stopping the recording. He gets up, crowding Steve a little.

“You’re a punk, you know that?”

“I can’t help it,” Steve says, hands in Bucky’s hair again. “Just look so good when you’re doing that. How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?”

Bucky pushes his head a little more against the palm of Steve’s hand. “Hmm, maybe…” he says, closing his eyes. “Maybe I’ll do another tutorial. Still a lotta products I need to try and review.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathes, pulling Bucky closer to him. “Does that mean I can mess it up now?”

Bucky smirks at him. “Yeah, you can mess it up.”

And Steve - as much as he loves how perfect Bucky’s curls look right now - has never been able to say no to that.

[adrianasunderworld]

Imagine Disney Princess AU in ghost marriage. Obviously they will be sideline since they are girls but I like to think they watch what some of the NRC cast being slapped by the ghosts. Some laugh, some are disappointed, and some are sad. I like to think the princesses feel bad for some like Trey, Cater, and Deuce who are just being themselves and act politely to the ghost, but the ghost is rude because they didn't fit her standards. While they'll be mad at some like Floyd, Sebek, and more.

Ariel: While you did give her flowers and she is dead, I do think giving her Poison flowers isn't a best way to show it

Tiana: I kinda predict Floyd on failing.

Anna: And no women wants to be squish by a stranger.

Belle: Obviously the ghost will be offended if they brag about someone great in this conversation.

Rapunzel: And for a prince, you are being rude to her.

Leona, being sarcatic: Oh I'm sorry that we wouldn't live in the same standards as your perfect boyfriends.

I like to their comments made them more annoyed on how they fell to their perfect princes while they couldn't.

I like to think Mulan joining with Riddle and the rest disguising herself as a man since she did fit the criteria and she did dressed as a man before.

Mulan in her suit in which men are almost speechless that they couldn't recognize her.

Riddle: Sometimes I forgot she can disguise herself as a man.

I also think Idia feeling rejected by the ghost after she end up with someone else.

Idia: I don't know why but I feel offended on being rejected by a girl. Is this how breakups are like in real-life?

Megara: You get used to it.

I like to think Megara experience what's like being heartbroken by a man and she can't help but feel sorry for him despite not showing much.

This ask makes me think Ace wouldn't fall for any of the Disney princess due to his experience to his ex and how he would rather be with friends right now. When the Disney princesses learn about this, they can't help but feel saddened and heartwarming from his speech.

Honestly seeing the Princesses in the ghost bride event would be interesting, because it's clearly poking fun at the fairytale princess trope of classic Disney. What with Eliza mentioning things like a prince needing a sword, expecting a tall handsome stranger, the singing. Eliza is basically a Disney princess gone wrong, and I think the classic princesses would not be here for it. Tiana and everyone after her would especially be like "this girl is crazy." While all the classic girls are going "She's giving us a bad rep. We do not condone her actions."

I do think some of them would feel bad for her, Especially Snow White. She dreamed of love and perfect prince like Eliza, only Eliza met a tragic end. So I feel like Snow would have the most sympathy for her, even though she doesn't agree with with what she's doing.

It's been hundreds of years, maybe Eliza recognizes some of them as the princesses of old, figures she admired and whose stories she wanted to emulate. She wanted what they had, and all her retainers enabling her only turned it from a childhood fantasy to a full blown obsession. All the princesses are horrified, and have to try to bring Eliza to reality.

Eliza: Princess Aroura, you fell in love with your dream prince who slew a dragon for you! How could I not want that?

Aroura: I got lucky is what I got. Even if I didn't like Phillip, I would have still had to marry him. Even my father who arranged thought it would be a good idea to wait. But I certainly never forced him. And look at Idia and tell me he's going to slay anything bigger than a fly! No offense,Idia.

Idia: None taken. But also ouch.

Also I was gonna say Mulan, but then I read the second half, and yeah. lol Mulan will rock the suitor suit and also fight her way through all the ghost. Sometimes the best Prince Charming is a woman.

Honestly the aftermath may be a good bonding moment for Meg and Idia. Because Meg has had her heartbroken before and even though Idia didn't love Eliza, rejection still hurts, especially since Idia isn't used to the kind of attention where he is the object of someone's desire. So Meg is sort of off to the side with him and Ortho going "You'll be fine. It may hurt, but you'll be okay."

And yeah I can see what you mean about Ace not wanting to date anyone, at least not for a while. They all have different wants and needs that I can Ace can recognize and be like "this wont work"

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. III

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 17k (im sorry omg)

➵ warnings : oh boi we have aNgSt, serious familial issues, swearing, multiple fight scenes, mainly verbal but there is a slap in one, mentions of a wound, mentions of alcohol, (there’s honestly a lot that goes wrong in this chapter but at least tae and the reader have each other), sexual tension :o, bit of possessive!tae, (i mention a short reader a lot but i just wanted to say you’re beautiful even if you’re tall! tae is just very tall to me askldjs)  

➵ a/n: i’m back and hoLY is this chapter loaded (and a lil unedited forgive me!!) i’ve finally finished school and get a whole month off now! who knows what works i’ll release in that time 👀. as always, feedback is appreciated loves!

chapter three : “the window opened one time with you and me”

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“Mother?” You stood frozen, completely and utterly shocked as to how your mother was just opposite of you, smiling brightly as if she hadn’t done a single thing wrong in her life and loved you unconditionally.

How incredibly wrong that was. 

“Y/N! How are you? Oh dear, it’s been so long!” Your mother threw her arms around your neck, pulling you against her for a hug you just barely returned. 

“Good. You?” 

“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, shutting the door after her entry.

“Ah, I just couldn’t believe my daughter’s married now, I wanted to drop by and say congratulations!” Your mother cheered, grinning widely as she began scanning the grand interior of your house, leering as though you weren’t standing just before her.

“Drop by? You could’ve just came to the wedding, Mother...” You suggested despondently, plastering a pained smile onto your face. You attempted to meet her eyes, though they rather seemed to sparkle at anything that appeared expensive.

Anything but you. 

“Oh, I was in Ibiza. I couldn’t just leave while my resort pass still had benefits on it, you know me.” She flashed you a cheeky smile as she playfully hit you, propping her heels off.

You nodded half heartedly, trying extremely hard to not lose it on her because you were in your home; a place meant for peace and comfort and didn’t have room for negative.

Not to mention, Taehyung resided just upstairs in his study with most likely his door open, and you didn’t want to risk bothering him if you raised your voice. 

“Ibiza was more important than your own daughter’s wedding, huh?” You spoke to yourself, nodding in a manner that would somehow help you accept the sad fact, though instead called forth a feeling you should’ve grown accustomed to by now.

Disappointment.

She knew about the wedding, you knew your father informed her of the ceremony along with its date and time. Though as she audaciously ogled the embellishments of your front foyer and spoke to you carelessly, she practically screamed she gave 0 fucks about your wedding. That what really mattered to her was living out the full experience of an expensive vacation than attending a life-changing night for her daughter. 

Typical. 

“Oh, c’mon now. When you put it like that it makes me seem so bad.” Your mother pouted like a child. “It wasn’t a real marriage, anyway.” She waved off the conversation as she ventured further into the house, bold enough to strike another conversation . “My God, this is the house of the Kim Taehyung?” Your mother’s eyebrows shot up, drinking in the grand size and wealthy look of the home. “You got very lucky, Y/N.” 

You cocked an eyebrow, incredulous of what she was insinuating. “What do you mean, Mother?” 

“Y/N, you’re married to Kim Taehyung. Do you understand how fantastic that is? For you?” Your mother was on the verge of scoffing, smoothing over her dress as she looked elsewhere. “He’s an incredibly rich man, and considering that life of yours it’s a miracle he ever agreed to marry you.” Your mother relayed nonchalantly as she caught sight of an exquisite vase. 

And there it was, the belittling. You’d mentioned before you were often disparaged and received numerous insults when anything concerned your status as the runaway heiress. But what you failed to mention was the person who claimed the #1 position as your largest and most incessant hater. 

Your mother. 

“Mother, it doesn’t matter to me whether a man is rich or not.” You countered, trying to quell your snippy tone but it was as grand a fail your mother was at being a mother. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Unlike you, I’m not obsessed with my husband’s money.” You almost spat with crossed arms, only this comment causing her to turn towards you. 

“Excuse me? I’m your mother, watch your tone a little.” She scolded quite lightly, before returning to inspect a painting. 

You scoffed, “My mother...” you repeated under your breath, rolling your eyes. 

“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”

“I said it’s funny you’re referring to yourself as my mother.” You voiced clearer.

“And why is that so funny?” You could visibly see your mother failing to control her temper with you, masking it all behind a fake smile she mastered ages ago. 

“Because you’ve been anything but a mother.” You retorted, knowing exactly what this conversation was leading into. 

An argument.

“And you’ve been daughter of the year?” Your mother countered, sarcastic tone cutting the air, and it only made you more irritated. 

“Here we go again, the bad daughter narrative.” You scoffed. “Find something new to argue, will you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“And you believe your bad mother narrative is any better?” She sneered back. “I’ve even come to visit you yet this it how you’re treating me. When will you ever learn to be grateful?”

“Please, you chose a vacation over your own daughter’s wedding.” You held a hand up, gesturing against her audacity. “And when have I ever been ungrateful? I don’t remember biting the hand that fed me.” 

“No, Y/N, you didn’t bite the hand that fed you, you completely neglected and abandoned it.” She claimed, drawing closer towards your direction. “You left this family to pursue your own selfish desires. You’re the very definition of ungrateful.” 

“Excuse me? Definition?” 

“Yes, definition. You threw everything your father worked so hard for away. All he ever wanted was to provide his family with a comfortable life, but you instead wasted his efforts and made everyone's lives so much harder. Do you really think I’ll forgive you for what you did to your older brother?” Your mother voiced in an accusatory tone, bringing up an age old argument you knew was going to ravage any peace between you two. 

“That was not my fault, he was already due for the same thing in Korea, it doesn’t matter if he’s in the U.S now.” You argued back. 

“It’s all your fault! You’re the reason Yoongi hasn’t been able to come home in years! You ruined his entire life by making him uproot and take over the U.S faction when it was your role. Your decision to leave forced him into it!” 

“So you’d rather have my life uprooted and ruined than your precious son’s?”

“Because my son isn’t like you! He isn’t selfish at all, Yoonie is a hard-working man who’s always listened to me and your father, always rightfully prioritized the company. But you? You’ve only ever made things worse. You’re completely useless, all you do is tear this family apart. Your father has to pick up your work, you keep your brother out of this country and give me years worth of stress!” Your mother shouted louder than she should’ve, angry as her eyes revealed searing frustration, contempt. 

You were trying to negate the hurt you felt by her words, having trained yourself to endure their sharp sting, though no matter how many times you heard them, it never made it any easier. 

“Oh please, your favouritism is showing, mother.” You remarked with near tears, her disregard for you so disturbingly apparent it left your eyes watering. 

“Yoongi has always loved his work and the company, but I never have. When will you understand that? If I’ve ruined our family so much why have I never heard these same words from Dad or Yoongi? They’ve always supported me, understood and loved me regardless of what life I chose. Why can’t you do the same? Why can’t you just try to understand me for once?” 

“Because there’s nothing to understand. You’re an heiress to this family, you are meant to live for this company and this company only. You owe your father and I your life, nothing has ever been yours. The least you could do to pay us back is by rightfully working at the company and not being as much of a disappointment as you are now.” You mother’s tone was strict and resolute, utterly fed up with you.

“Cry me a river, mother. I don't owe you a single thing. You’re one to talk about working alongside Dad and the company, all you’ve ever done is use his money without a single care for his work.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad for his money. You know next to nothing about business or the company and have the least amount of right to lecture me about it. At least I’m not a woman who mooches off somebody and lives recklessly!” You snapped back at her with tears just pooling your lash line, arms crossed tightly holding your chest where it felt your heart would collapse.  

“Do you understand who you’re talking to? Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother.” She tried to finalize, but you weren’t having any of it. 

“And I could care less. You’ve never once done anything to warrant that title. All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi. It was always dad despite being so busy, it was never you. You weren't even there for my wedding, when I needed my mother the most. No, you’re someone who’d rather use your rich husband and forget he’s a person.” Your voice was shaking at this point, practically rattling. “You may not have been there for my wedding, but I would never do that to my husband.” You let everything out without a care at the point, flooding the tense air. 

Your mother seemed to completely lose it at this, her tone scarily still as she gritted through her teeth. “You wouldn’t do that to your husband, really? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?” 

You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat? Whose lavish lifestyle do you now get to relish in? It’s all your husband’s, not yours.” Your mother was practically spitting venom at this point, scoffing. “I must say, your quest for independence is interesting, having landed you in the exact same place you always berated me for. Look where you are now, mooching off your rich husband.” 

If words could dagger you in the heart and looks could kill, you’d surely be 6 ft. under by now.

Years, years you’ve been stuck in this constant loop of back and fourth with your mother, arguing the same 5 things you could never see eye-to-eye on. And no matter what she said, no matter the insults, the belittling, the verbal abuse she always spat your way; you’d grown used to it. Her words became normal, second nature to you and so you easily drowned them out. Her insults became useless weapons you simply dodged and avoided. 

But this, this was where your mother won. 

Her words dawned a laughable sense of irony on you, nearly physically reeling as though someone had punched you in the gut at the realization. It was raw agony, the very prospect you’d spent the entirety of this ordeal evading. 

To think the same independence you fought so gravely for, can so easily be erased and forgotten all due to marrying a rich CEO. It felt pathetic, unfair you had no choice but to marry Taehyung. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, neither was it yours. 

It was just coincidence, pure and utter coincidence. But to think this very coincidence would be the reason your stomach is churning and self-worth is collapsing; it was fucking unfortunate, miserable. 

“Leave my house, this instance.” There was no emotion in your voice, it was flat, vision clouded.

“What did you say to me?” 

“I said get out!” You yelled, the shrill in your voice evidence of tears. “I don’t ever want to see you again!” 

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! I’m your mother!” 

“You’re not my mother at all, you’re the worst excuse of one. Leave my house!” 

“It’s not your house, Y/N! It’s your husband’s, and you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!” Your mother had somehow made her way over to you, having the audacity to push you back by your arms, driving her point home by the act of aggression. 

You gritted through your teeth, eyes teary. “I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats on her husband with wealthy men in other countries!”

This was the moment your mother gasped scandalously, becoming so irate she didn’t hesitate to raise her hand and slap you across the face. 

You stood emotionless, not even having the capacity to feel shocked or in pain due to how normal this was. There wasn’t a single unfamiliar thing about the sting of her hand, the way her manicured nails scratched against your skin and worse, the way her wedding ring usually cut into your cheek to produce a small wound. 

It was all too familiar, making you scoff as if this was exactly what you expected from her, exactly what you've always known. 

“You still hit your grown daughter, huh? The last 10 years of it weren’t enough?” You endured the ache, swallowing back tears. You weren’t letting them spill, not at this. 

Not at something as undeserving as your mother. 

“You give reasons to, Y/N.” Your mother simply crossed her arms and looked away, showing the slightest hint of shame though never allowing it to leak into the proud and egotistical persona she assumed around you. 

A suffocating silence pierced the air, looming for some time until you spoke. 

“Leave this house, mother. I beg of you.” You pleaded, not out of desperation, though out of sheer tiredness. Tiredness of the same argument and the same insults you always directed each other, tired of the same outcomes that only ever lead to more bitterness tainting your relationship. “Don’t make this any worse, we’ve probably disturbed Taehyung upstairs.” 

Your mother looked at you with lightly raised eyebrows, inquiring. “He’s home?” 

You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.” 

“Am I not allowed to meet him?” Your mother seemed offended. 

“No, you’re not.” You stated firmly, not caring about the sliver of respect you thought you had for her and instantly pushing her towards your front entrance, nabbing her shoes along the way. 

“What are you-” She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before you swung the front door open, guiding her outside and shoving her shoes in her hands. 

She was about to retort until you shut the door on her, locking it. You leaned against the wood as you heard her protests, not minding her calls as you allowed your constrained tears to finally stream down your face. 

It was too much, she was too much. 

Why could your mother never see eye-to-eye with you? Why couldn’t she be a normal mother? Why couldn’t she be supportive? All she ever did was preach how useless you were, how selfish and ungrateful your very existence was.

Of course someone like her could never understand, never understand the value of autonomy and achieving something for yourself; she’s never once done anything along those lines in her entire life. 

Her words ran deeper today than they ever have, sending a stifling feeling to swarm your chest, your self-esteem and everything alike collapsing along with your pride.

It hurt, it really did. To hear those words from the very woman meant to love you so dearly, so unconditionally only exacerbated the pain. It made you jealous of every child you was gifted with a kind mother, not daring to curse anyone for it but simply feel it was unfair. Even Taehyung had such a warm and loving mother. 

Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm. 

Taehyung. 

You realized you were out in the open shedding tears where he could possibly see you, trying to silence the sobs that escaped your lips. You only failed, agony tightening your chest and growing more painful the more you held it all in. So you clutched your hand to your mouth and made straight for the kitchen sink, running the water loudly enough to drown out the sounds of you candidly crying. 

Your cheek still stung, your heart ached and your mind spun endlessly, all while trying to desperately rid yourself of the worthless feeling inside you. 

And it didn’t work. 

Taehyung had been working, scrolling through his laptop as he diligently reviewed status reports, only to have a notification brighten his phone screen. He flashed his occupied vision towards it and caught sight of his security system alerting him of his front door. 

He grew curious knowing the housekeepers were shopping for groceries at this hour, causing him to tap the notification and display the camera feed of his front porch. He was welcomed by a woman he’s never seen, peaking his curiosity. 

He almost rose from his seat until he saw the woman turn towards the door in accordance with you opening it, assuming you most likely knew her as she smiled brightly and ventured comfortably into the home. 

Taehyung shrugged it off and returned to his tedious reading, staring at the practically blurring lines of text until he eventually began hearing raised voices from downstairs, his ajar doors and grand home producing an echoing effect that reached his study. 

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow as he grew slightly worried, discerning it didn’t sound like a friendly conversation. He abandoned his work and made towards the doors of his study, peaking towards the direction of his stair railings that overlooked the first floor of his home. 

More of the conversation became apparent, and Taehyung instantly identified it sounded more like a negatively charged argument than a conversation. His eyebrows furrowed the more he listened, knowing it was bad manners to eavesdrop though finding himself doing so anyways. 

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad’s money. You know next to nothing about business or the company...” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot to the sky, realizing you were speaking to your mother; the same woman you explicitly expressed was to be avoided at all costs and even winced at the mention of. 

He couldn’t forget that from the first time he met you. 

“...Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother. ” The crudeness in your mother’s voice was already indicative of your ill relationship, the harshness sounding like second nature. 

Taehyung grimaced. 

“...All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi...” Yoongi? As in your brother, Min Yoongi? Taehyung only loosely recalled Min Yoongi lived and worked in the States, where he headed your father’s lucrative faction there.

He’d only met the mellow, though diligent man a couple times before.

“...I would never do that to my husband.” Despite the intense situation, Taehyung felt the slightest tinge of pride hearing you refer to him as your husband.  

“You wouldn’t do that to your husband? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?” 

Oh fuck, Taehyung thought. This isn’t going anywhere good. 

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat?...”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Taehyung became alarmed, silently drawing his index finger and thumb over his lips in frustration. You didn’t need to hear this, it was complete bullshit. Your situation with him was different, it was forced and coerced. Taehyung could tell you were someone who truly didn't favour using someone else’s money, and knew you were trying your damn hardest to adjust to the idea itself having to spend your life with him. 

He rushed out into the hallway where he began pacing, trying his hardest to contain himself and hope that you wouldn’t take your mother’s words to heart. Was this why you were so adamant about the fucking card? Because you had to hear shit like this from your mother? 

This was only going to undo the work he’d successfully laid out, thinking it would erase any convincing he had done about his money and what’s his is yours. This was bad news, he didn’t want you thinking any of your mother’s words were true. 

They simply weren’t. 

“Leave my house, this instance.”

“What did you say to me?”

“I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Taehyung was becoming anxious, the argument was clearly escalating and he felt uneasy, an incessant feeling bothering his chest. 

There it was again, that same sense of protection he felt when he saw you practically shaking talking to that Kisoo guy. He didn't understand why it manifested, or why he felt it so emphatically. All he knew was after hearing the way your voice nearly cracked, unstable and troubled as you grew more emotional, he felt the strong feeling to oddly.. rescue you? 

It’s like he wanted to bolt down the stairs, physically stand in between the argument and force your mother out of the house, all while trying to persuade you what she said wasn't true. 

Why did he feel this way? This was none of his damn business, had absolutely nothing to do with him yet if it weren't for half the mind he had, he could’ve found himself racing down the stairs to defend you.

Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.

“... you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!”

“I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats...”

And not long after he heard the slap, evidently hard and painful in just it’s sound. Taehyung immediately froze in his tracks, halting his pacing as worry blossomed in his chest. He prodded over to hide against the edge of the wall that connected to his staircase, able to peak at the sight of both you and your mother stood before the front foyer. 

Taehyung felt pissed within seconds, again unable to decipher why he felt the need to protect you. Though what he did know was that he felt bothered, never wanted anyone to hurt you and he hated the very thought of it. 

Maybe it was because of his considerate personality again, or maybe it really was because of you. 

What made Taehyung grow even angrier, though, was the way you reacted, listening to you dub this as something that happened often, and he was uber pissed now. 

You didn’t fucking deserve that at all. 

It took him no time to understand your apprehension and natural disliking for your mother, wanting himself to never have to converse with her. He would most likely be rude and curt, replaying the same vile words she really had the nerve to say to her own daughter. Scratch that, his wife. 

Yeah, Taehyung thought. My wife shouldn’t be treated like this. 

He knew it was wrong, impolite of him to assume and judge a person so openly based on their cover, though Taehyung could tell these were your mother’s true colours, and any other persona she assumed would only be a farce. 

Taehyung watched as you simply shoved your mother out of the house, shutting the door only to lean against it and allow the tears you’d hidden to fall down your cheeks. Taehyung turned his back and leaned against the wall, concealing himself to give you privacy. 

He knew it was already rude to have eavesdropped, even ruder to look on at such a vulnerable moment. It was rude because he wouldn’t even be able to comfort you, only watch as a dumb-founded bystander; rendered useless because it wasn’t his place to console you.

He knew nothing about you.

He really didn’t know your situation, the relationship you had with your mother. He couldn’t step on your toes and give you advice as if he knew you, nor supply you with words that would make you feel better; contemplating he’d possibly never be able to. 

He wasn’t your remedy, he wasn’t your muse, just a man you were forced to marry and now have to live with. A man who stripped you of your independence, ruined your life all just by his mere existence.

 And so Taehyung found even more reasons to not rush to you, simply leave you on your own knowing he was partly the reason for your pain, your suffering. That your mother only said such things because of him, that she only insulted you because of him. 

So he found himself retreating, walking carefully back to his study to mind his own business and continue his work, complete it as though nothing happened. 

But as each step seemed to grow longer, heavier, he found himself unable to retreat. Unable to function knowing you were probably hurting, unable to ignore you and so blatantly turn his back on you. 

So in a hasty, irrational decision, Taehyung found himself turning on his heel and rushing towards the staircase. 

You continued to sob quietly, thinking if you just let it all out now, cried just about hard enough all the sorrow would leave your body. So that’s what you did, bit your lips to contain the aching feeling in your chest as your throat seemed to constrict, swallowing all your feelings down in an attempt to poorly control them. 

You were in your own world, the sink’s water masking any noise behind you, and so when somebody’s hand reached out to rest against your shoulder, you were completely startled. You jumped, quickly shutting the water in a flash and refusing to look back at the culprit to save your pride. 

Whoever it was, they couldn’t see you like this. 

Though when you heard his dulcet, deep voice calling your name, you knew exactly who it was.

“Y/N?”

You straightened yourself up, breathing out the emotions ravaging your chest and stabilizing your voice to address him. “Hey, Taehyung. What um.. what are you doing here?” 

Taehyung could hear your solemn attempt to cover everything up, feeling your sense of embarrassment practically fill the air. 

“Nothing, just.. wanted to see you.” Taehyung said, unsure of how to approach this.

“You’re probably busy. You should go back to work.” You tried hard to sound okay while you practically swallowed back tears, clutching the counter of the sink.

“It’s alright, not important.” Taehyung waved it off, letting his hard remain on your shoulder seeing you didn’t reject him. A beat of silence lingered until he spoke again.

“Can you look at me, Y/N?” There was no pressure in his voice, just the same soft consideration you’d heard at the hotel suite a couple nights ago.

And you hated it, hated that it made you want to give in, want to so easily follow his request and bare to him whatever he wanted.

Until your last braincell kicked in. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry if I interrupted your work. Please go back to your study.” You voiced just barely above a shaky tone, trying your absolute hardest to sound just fine, seem okay. But the more Taehyung spoke, the more you felt your defense mechanisms slowly coming undone.

And you knew he knew.

“I wasn't interrupted.” He stated normally, his voice natural and yet he sounded so.. comforting? He was simply responding to you and yet his voice and presence seemed to soothe the sharp ache in your chest. 

It was fucking poetic. 

“I’m sure I did, Taehyung. Just please, return to your work.” 

“I don’t need to, Y/N, I can stay here.” He was firm as he stood behind you, measly hand against your shoulder and his usually intimidating, towering figure reassuring.

It was odd.

“You shouldn’t. Just go back, Taehyung.” You attempted to voice with more strength, trying to blink tears away and it didn’t convince Taehyung in the slightest.

“I don’t want to. Look at me first.” His voice sounded calm, and it was really like honey. Thick yet sweet, so deep and yet it’s cadence harboured the ability to put anyone at ease.

You shut your eyes tightly, wiping at them hastily to rid any tears as you sniffled and turned around. You were met by his face that slightly softened at the sight of you, eyes seeming to melt as they swirled with consideration, different from his usually unreadable expression. 

“See, I’m fine. You can go back to work.” You plastered a smile on, trying to stand a little more confidently, though Taehyung didn’t budge. 

He only remained, gazing at the features of your face as he seemed to drape his own with a small sense of sadness, like he was upset, maybe even hurt? It was slight, though identifiable. It left you quite speechless, thinking it was all just part of your imagination.

It couldn’t be real.  

But it exactly was as Taehyung’s large hand came up to gently touch the cheek your mother slapped. You didn’t realize it hurt more than it should’ve when you felt a sharp sting at his touch, wincing.

You registered there was probably a visible mark and grew too vulnerable, downright embarrassed for your liking and so you deflected him, smacking his hand away from your face as you looked off to the side. 

“I’m fine, Taehyung.” You declared, and Taehyung didn’t know how to react as his hand came off you, feeling a bit disheartened. He simply wanted to help, and he didn’t want to leave without doing so.

So he still looked at you, eyes possibly growing sympathetic though it could’ve been a figment of your imagination again.

“You didn’t deserve that.” He voiced soft in sound, though resolute in nature.

Taehyung was having trouble choosing what he could say without overstepping, invading a part of you he probably shouldn’t. 

“I didn’t ask for a pity party, Taehyung. Go back to work.” You said with a more snippy tone than you planned, though found it befitting of your current emotions nonetheless. 

“I’m not pitying. I’m..” Taehyung struggled for a word until you answered. 

“What, caring?” You scoffed, “Please, Taehyung, you don’t have to care like my real husband, it’s only on paper-”

“But I am your real husband.” Taehyung emphasized, his serious eyes meeting yours. “It’s on paper and in real life, so I think I’m allowed to care.” Taehyung retorted with narrowed eyes finding he liked that sentence, liked what it had to convey because it was damn true. 

Taehyung decided on reaching for your arms to drive his point home, though watched as you again, naturally retracted from him. You still seemed to refuse him, didn’t see him in a good enough light to not cower away. 

And he still fucking hated it. 

Taehyung went for it anyway and gripped your arms when you began to draw away, catching you. The action nearly demanded you look into his eyes, and found yourself doing exactly so. 

“Y/N, first, don’t be scared of me, please?” His eyes grew soft. “I seriously-I really hate it. I would never..” Taehyung trailed as his vision fell to the side of your face, eyes seeming to reflect concern.

You were completely surprised, watching him unmask a plethora of emotion you didn't think he’d so candidly reveal.

Taehyung brought his hand to brush your slightly swollen cheek, continuing. “I would never do this, do anything to scare you. I just wouldn’t.” Taehyung was emphatic and genuine, gently touching the fresh wound on the apple of your cheek.

“I.. know that, Taehyung.” You again felt that same urge to touch his hand that touched you, but you decided against it. “Though I don’t need your pity. This doesn’t hurt, don’t break a sweat about it, please.” You were trying to turn away from his hold but Taehyung didn’t let go, maintaining you in his hands.

“It’s not pity, Y/N. It’s sympathy. This bothers me, okay?”

“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-” 

“But you’re not alone.” Taehyung suddenly stated seriously, tone permeating the air and you just about froze. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to decipher what he was trying to say.

“You’re not.. alone, okay? You have me.” He spoke as though he was trying to convey a meaningful message, trying to mark his own words. “In whatever way... you have me.” It was a hesitant claim, but it felt just like when he’d made his promise to you at the altar. 

And suddenly you found yourself giving in, sighing as you registered this was all pretty much an elaborate reflection of the lesson you learned not so long ago.  You and Taehyung are married now, and no matter how that status manifested itself, you had to accept what came with it.

Especially if it meant him.

“Okay.” You replied simply, multiple emotions masked by the plain word. 

Taehyung looked at you a little surprised you’d actually accepted that, but broke into a genuine grin you hadn’t really seen before. 

And you really did like the way he smiled.

He made you want to smile too, though as your facial muscles worked for the grin your cheek stung, wincing as a result. Taehyung exclaimed within a matter of seconds. “Ah, don’t move.” He cautioned, smiling a little when you chuckled at his overreaction. “Don’t worry, Taehyung. It’s alright.” 

“Alright, my foot.” Taehyung joked, bending down to inspect your wound closer than you expected, and you hid the feeling that shot through you because of his proximity with a nervous laugh, causing you to wince again. 

“Hey, what did I say?” Taehyung chastised you lightly, lips in a straight line as he shook his head disapprovingly. “C’mon, let’s treat this.” 

You immediately whined, feeling too lazy to get something so small and insignificant treated. “Taehyung, it’s not even that bad, why?” You pouted. 

“Cause it’ll leave a mark on your pretty face.” Taehyung smiled innocently, not even caring about the effect it left on you as he found your hand and tugged you along to the second floor. Your eyes only remained widened, never letting up the surprise that took you. 

Did he just call you pretty? 

You let Taehyung lead you to your master bathroom, where he situated you by the counter and shuffled around for his first-aid kit. He finally retrieved the box, dabbing some alcohol onto a cotton swab and bringing it to your face. 

Taehyung just about performed the action until he began struggling bending to your height, wanting to carefully apply the alcohol. So he tried different angles and maneuvered himself around, all coming up useless. “God, why do you have to be so small?” Taehyung huffed under his breath as he stood to his full height, contemplating how he’d accomplish this. 

“I’m not small, you’re just really-” You were about to complete your sentence until Taehyung’s hands suddenly grabbed your waist, lifting you in a single breath and propping you up onto the bathroom counter. You would’ve exclaimed, maybe protest though believed it would’ve made the heat in your face so much more apparent.

“That’s better.” He grinned, biting back a chuckle at your flushed face and widened eyes.  

Those fucking eyes. 

Taehyung then found it easier to apply what he needed, cleaning up the wound precariously before dabbing on some ointment to avoid any scarring, only missing a bandage to place on your cheek. Taehyung searched for one in his kit and drawers, though came up empty-handed. He became puzzled as to where he put his bandages, placing his hands in his pockets to think until he felt the familiar scratch of a wrapper.

He furrowed his eyebrows at first until he figured exactly what it was. 

And he suppressed a stupid grin. 

Taehyung pulled out the wrapper and watched as you avoided eye contact with him, cheeks still clearly warm as you swung your legs on the counter in anticipation of him.

Cute, he thought.

He ripped the wrapper, chucking the garbage aside as he drew close to your face. His breath suddenly fanned you, mere inches from your face with his lips so proximal you were stupidly remembering your kiss from a couple days ago.

He was just so close. So close that you could actually discern he had this pretty little mole on his cheek, even one just underneath his eye, lining his lash line. You smiled realizing he had such unique details, even seeing he had a mono-lid and a double eyelid. Then came his obvious features, his plushy, pink lips, his chocolate eyes, his soft hair and sculpted face structure. It made you want to hide your own face out of near insecurity.

He was just so beautiful.

You watched him as he focused on you, trying to calm down your oddly racing heart, feeling the sensation of his closeness shoot through your body. He smoothed the bandage over your cheek and drew away far too earlier than you wanted.

“There. Apply something before putting a bandage on, right?” He cocked an eyebrow and looked at you knowingly, crossing his arms. 

You immediately smiled at the sentiment, realizing it’s the same line you said to him during your first exchange, and you felt your heart just slightly, slightly flutter at the thought he remembered.

“Right.”

It had been a week since that incident.

Taehyung and yourself had assumed your regular lives, having to drudge back to work after a few days off.

Your mother’s words still lingered around in your head, spoiling your mood here and there though assuming the ever-so healthy manner of simply pushing the mentally detrimental thoughts away, distracting yourself with work. 

You wish you could detail anymore interactions with Taehyung, though they were scarce with how rarely you saw each other. You both either just missed each other, were too busy to pay attention or simply came home too late. Even sleeping together was hit or miss, usually either of you crawling into bed earlier than the other with no real exchanges.

You could say it made you feel just a little sad, though not entirely considering you two were genuinely busy people, Taehyung an even busier person.

That all came to a full stop though one Friday morning, you were seated by the island and staring at your most recent design for a building, iPad pen twirling in hand. You were sipping on coffee when Taehyung pulled out a chair and suddenly startled you, coffee almost spilling.

“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.” 

“Sorry, you were just really focused.” Taehyung apologized as he placed his own iPad down, reading away.

It’d been like this the whole week, you either designing and leading projects at your own job with Taehyung the ever-busy CEO at his own company, causing you both to often sit in each other’s presence though never take your eyes off your screens.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Taehyung suddenly perked up, stopping his scrolling. 

“Hm?” You looked up. 

“I should’ve told you this sooner, but we have to attend a gala tonight.” Taehyung grimaced at how sudden this seemed, arms crossed as he leaned on the counter.

Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?

Anyway, you were nearly spitting out your drink for the umpteenth time because of Taehyung, eyes blown out at his abrupt news. 

“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”

“Yeah, one of friends’ companies. 25th anniversary since establishment.” Taehyung went to bite a piece of his toast with strawberry jam.

You noticed he liked strawberries and didn’t like bread crust, making you want to smile sometimes at the child-like charm he hid underneath his intimidating persona. “They’re holding a huge gala and he’s one of my best friends, we’ll have to attend.”

You eventually came to understanding him, trying to wrap your head around having to suddenly attend such a high-end event. 

“This event is also going to be our first public appearance together. It’s important.” Taehyung stressed, back to scrolling through his iPad. 

“That’s alright. I don’t mind going, it’s just...I don’t think I even have a dress for a gala.” You mentally sifted through your own wardrobe, coming up short once you realized you haven’t been to an extravagant event like that since you were a teenager.

“I know, I bought one for you.”

You should really stop drinking beverages around Taehyung because you can never seem to keep them in your damn mouth. “You bought one? Taehyung..” You whined. “What did I say about giving me things?” 

“Hey, what did I say about giving you things?” He scolded you lightly. “I give you things simply because I want to.”  

You pouted. “Still, you don’t even know my size, when did you even have time?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’ll fit you, don’t worry.” Taehyung sent a smile as he deflected your question and returned to his iPad, not wanting to reveal that he’d secretly referred to your other dresses in your shared closet for your correct measurements.

“But it probably wasted your time. I should’ve gone out and bought it myself.” You felt guilty, realizing it probably made him compromise his work.

“It wasn’t a waste of time.” Taehyung countered, not really liking how you considered yourself not worthy of spending time on.

“I- thank you.” You blurted out before his statement could effect you. “When does the event begin?”

“7. You should try getting off work early to get ready.” Taehyung suggested, sipping his tea as he looked at you.

“Oh God, I’m gonna have to doll myself up. I haven’t done that in ages.” You held a hand to your mouth, trying to digest the fact you’d probably have to look like a trophy wife. 

“I could get you a makeup artist and hair stylist.” Taehyung offered. 

“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be fine. I just haven’t been to a gala in a long time.” You felt surprised about the fact yourself. “I’m gonna have to meet so many people.” 

“You will, but I’ll be there.” Taehyung assured, glancing up at you.

“Of course, but you won’t be with me the entire night. I’ll have to brush up on my rich people skills.” You blew a raspberry, knowing you had great interpersonal skills but just didn’t like acting so fake all the time. 

“I won’t leave, just stick with me the whole night.” Taehyung stated as he absentmindedly held his index finger to his lips reading an email, quite goddamn illegally if you had to say so yourself. 

“I will.” You confirmed, erasing at a line on your iPad. “Will you come home early too?”

Taehyung clicked his tongue disappointingly. “I will but just barely on time. Friday’s mean meetings for me, so I can’t leave early. I’ll get ready at work, come back inside the house to get you.”

“Okay.” You’re not sure why you felt suddenly sad he wouldn’t be home earlier. Maybe it was just the usual feeling of not wanting to be alone, because God forbid you actually started getting used to Taehyung’s presence. 

Taehyung rose from his seat and cast his iPad to the side, sliding on his suit jacket as he glanced at his watch, checking the time. You noticed yourself and flashed your vision to your iPad, gawking at the time and realizing you could be late. 

“Oh shit, I have to go.” 

“Me too, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Taehyung confirmed as he made his way to the front door, fixing his sleeve. You propped off your own seat and began walking towards the stairs, just about ascending until Taehyung suddenly called your name. 

“Y/N!” He peeked out from the front door, seconds from leaving. 

“Yes?” 

“I hope you like the colour, it’s one of my favourites.” Taehyung smiled sweetly, sending his last farewell before he dashed out of the house. 

Your eyebrows shot up and practically gawked, immediately running up the stairs thinking of where to find this dress. He had to have hidden it from you considering he’s been doing so ever since he mysteriously bought it. 

You instinctively rushed into your shared bedroom to grab a scrunchy for the day, all distracted until you caught sight of a white box adorned with a black bow sitting atop your bed. 

Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label. 

Chanel. 

You had to physically keep from flooring yourself, in disbelief he’d purchased you a Chanel dress. You were even more fearful to uncover it, the information of him buying it himself raking your brain. 

It was even his favourite colour, nearly swooning at the fact he chose for you to wear his favourite colour. So you made your way over to the box hesitantly, untying the ribbon and casting the lid aside cautiously, only to audibly gasp. 

Your eyes fell to a ruby red dress with a delicate V neckline, completely blown away he chose such a bold colour for you to wear. 

You carefully grabbed the dress to take it out of its box, revealing more to discover it was a floor-length gown. It produced a small train though lifted in the front to reveal the shoes you’d wear, the skirt of plain, thick fabric until you saw the torso area; light beading expanding from the stomach area eventually leading into the skirt. 

Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use, you were stunned, completely taken by his choice. The dress was simply gorgeous, beautiful in its own right and you were almost too afraid to wear it. 

Nonetheless, this event was important to Taehyung, so you took a deep breath, tucked the dress back into its box and mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. 

It was bordering 6:30 now. 

You’d successfully left work early, around the 2 o’clock mark to come home and indulge in a 4 hour self-care routine. It’d seriously been too long since you last attended an event similar to this, grand in size and visited by at least a hundred people. 

It reminded you of your engagement party, though not entirely since there would paparazzi and would be your first real appearance with Taehyung ever since your wedding. 

And quite frankly, you really wanted look better than you did then. You labelled it pretty much a disaster since you were a catatonic mess regretting all her life choices, probably looking unappealing in all your photos. 

Along with knowing the impact Taehyung has, not only in the business world but in general also left you wanting to up your game. You were his wife now, and that came with a high amount of scrutiny and criticism having nabbed one of the most eligible bachelor’s in Korea.

You’d already given up ever checking any articles and avoided social media, knowing that there would be inevitably nasty and judgmental comments. This night was important though, where you’d flank him as the women he’s so-called ‘in love with’ or the ‘love of his life’. 

It also dawned on you Taehyung in fact had a high-valued reputation to uphold, and so did you as his wife. 

So as you stood before the mirror in the walk-in closet, inspecting your dress, you contemplated how you’d survive this night, how you would act as the perfect, most suitable wife to Taehyung. 

You really wanted to hide your face out of how dolled up you looked; your makeup was on the elegant side, not heavy but brushed up to look soft, completed with red lipstick that matched your dress and hair set around your face in loose waves. 

The dress looked almost embarrassingly good on you, Taehyung somehow having chosen the right sized dress as it hugged your every curve right, accentuating the right parts of your body and even the V neckline not dipping too low, but showing quite the generous amount of skin. 

You couldn’t stop blushing at all. 

Taehyung had finally arrived at the house, rushing inside quickly registering he was cutting the time close. “Y/N! I’m home!” he called for you, quickly checking his appearance in a mirror as he smoothed pieces of his parted hair, curling just before his eyes and revealing some forehead.

“I’m in our room!” 

He approved his own look in the mirror and jogged up the stairs, mentally preparing himself before he’d have to see you in the dress he chose, almost excited about it. 

He’d simply loved it at first sight, and couldn’t stop pondering what the striking colour would look like on you. So as Taehyung entered your bedroom, he became confused finding it empty. He then ventured further inside, catching sight of the ajar closet door and light beaming through. 

He sauntered over carefully, peeking inside and Taehyung’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, almost stupidly. 

His eyes fell to you standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting as you looked at yourself in the dress with the back of it undone. 

And Taehyung had never seen anything more pretty in his life. 

He was speechless for the umpteenth time because of you, not even knowing how to begin a sentence because he might sound like a second grader if he did. So all Taehyung could muster up the literacy to say was “Wow.” 

You turned around instantly, eyes looking as though you were a deer caught in headlights. Taehyung’s eyes widened even more peering at the elegant front, jaw almost slack as he scanned over your body.

“T-Taehyung.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

Taehyung still seemed to be struggling a little, eyes glued to you until he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, yeah?” 

“S-sorry, but.. could you actually..?” And you did it again, angling your back towards Taehyung to call to the zipper of your dress. You really couldn’t try zipping it yourself, which left it sitting comfortably just at your lower back, your skin exposed to Taehyung. 

You could visibly see Taehyung flash his eyes to your skin until he looked elsewhere, nodding as he licked his lips. “Sure.” 

You watched him near you, his face blank as he took a handful of your hair and softly placed in front of you. He then brought his hand against your side to hold you in place, his other working for the zipper. It was another case of his rather hot breath fanning your back, almost teasingly zipping up your dress by simple inches. 

He was close again, closer than he’s been in a week and you sincerely hated it always affected you in some way. It made your chest flutter, suck in a breath you didn’t even need to hold in. You relaxed when Taehyung finally finished, his hands gripping your arms from behind as he looked at you through the mirror.

And for some odd reason, he liked how your heights contrasted each other. 

He had the slightest hint of a smile, eyes seeming to gleam with something you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“You look pretty.” He said, gazing at you through the reflection and you had to physically stop from beaming like an idiot. Your chest fills with butterflies, face collecting with heat at his compliment. 

How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?

You bit your lip, gazing up at his taller, impeccably dressed reflection as you admired him, his every feature crafted to a degree of perfection that left you in awe. 

“You look really handsome.” You complimented, watching his lips just about curve into a smile that met his eyes, and you wish he didn’t have to look so handsome when he smiled too. 

“Thank you.” He voiced before turning you around by your arms to face him. “Make sure you wear a coat tonight, it’s cold.” He informed, you nodding until your quick eyes spotted his tie loosened by just a centimeter, throwing you off. 

“Oh, your tie.” You exclaimed quietly, reaching for it without a thought and pushing it upwards, angling it to perfection. Taehyung suddenly froze, unexpecting of you doing such a thing and so proximal his nose flooded with your perfume, liking the scent. 

Peonies. 

He tensed with an unknown feeling until your gazes locked on each other, simply looking to look while your hands remained on his tie. He realized more than a second passed and Taehyung scrambled for something to say, sputtering.

“I’ll uh.. I’ll be waiting out front.” He assured as he stepped away, exiting the room quickly and leaving you to your lonesome. 

This was gonna be one hell of a night, you thought.

“Remember, there’s going to be a lot of cameras and people here. We’ll really need to act like a couple.” Taehyung sat beside you in the back of an Escalade, manspreading in all his glory and you were sincerely glad he couldn’t read your mind.

“Got it, let’s give em’ a show.” You cheered with your little fists, determined as the car arrived at the lavish venue. 

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Taehyung mimicked your action. “Don’t worry about getting nervous, I’m there.” He assured for good measure, gauging your affirmation.  

You nodded as you took a deep breath, smoothing over your dress and fixing your hair. Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into you, speaking near your ear. “I’ll get out first and open the door for you, wait here.” You tensed at the action before nodding again, Taehyung making his way out the car. 

He then opened your door as promised within seconds, greeting you with a warm smile as he held out his hand for you. You grinned back at him affectionately as you took it, adjusting your dress to step onto the concrete. 

You were met by dozens of camera flashes and a yelling crowd, shouting various things you couldn’t quite make out. You were almost distracted by it and felt a small sense of anxiety creep up you, until Taehyung pulled you flush against his side, hand curving around your waist.

You smiled up at him in accordance, and he beamed back as he walked you two down the carpet leading into the venue, casually ignoring all the noise and people. 

Taehyung guided you inside safely to where you were welcomed by a beautiful looking hall, pristine and extremely elegant. It was surely fitting for a grand gala. Your eyes caught a small crowd of photographers in the foyer snapping photos at a certain wall with a backdrop, curiosity dawning on you as Taehyung led you towards the coat check. 

“What’s happening there?” You pointed towards the scene. 

“Oh, exclusive press.” He snuck a look, stripping off his coat. “They’re the ones I was talking about, they’re gonna take pictures of us.” Taehyung answered distracted as he retrieved your coat and gave both to the coat checker, smiling a thank you. 

You didn’t even have time to really respond as Taehyung dragged you to the very scene, the pair of you next to have photos taken. You tried to process the whole thing as he walked you over, mentally preparing to look your best until Taehyung suddenly whispered lowly in your ear again. 

And again, it sent shivers down your spine. 

“Just smile and hold me, okay?” Your chest fluttered for an odd reason, nodding back to him as he brought you in front of the line of photographers. 

You stayed true to your promise and tucked an arm around his torso as the other draped his chest, closest to him as you could. Taehyung almost settled next to you until he felt something at his feet, noticing he was nearly stepping on your gown. 

He broke away from you, unexpectedly bending down to catch the skirt of your dress and delicately fix it behind you. You heard the hushed exclamations of the photographers, most of them doting on his considerate act as you just about protested, though suddenly remembered Taehyung’s words from today. 

It was probably better to stay silent. 

So you simply smiled as you watched Taehyung adjust your dress, feeling a warm sensation spread across your chest when he returned even though it most likely was for show, his hands coming back on you. 

This time you didn’t try to suppress anything, allowing some of your feelings to manifest into a real smile, remembering you were to appear as a couple anyway. 

And whether or not there was some truth to your expressions, was anyone really keeping track?

You two began posing for the photographers, smiling in all directions and clutching onto each other closely. You occasionally tried different angles to look better, everything going smoothly until you heard someone shout out, eyes widening as a result.

“Kiss her!” 

It wasn’t long before the other photographers began agreeing, encouraging Taehyung to kiss you and you had no clue how he would react. You were slightly biting your lip as you were occupied avoiding eye contact, that was until Taehyung quietly called you.

“Y/N, look at me.” 

“Hm?” You instinctively responded and looked up at him, completely taken by surprise when Taehyung suddenly planted a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes visibly went wider, only his chest to stare at until he eventually disconnected.

He returned his eyes to you and grinned at your wide-eyed reaction, suddenly reminding you. “Smile,” he encouraged with the flash of his own boxy grin, wanting to see you smile. 

And it damn well worked. 

Taehyung was right about the size of this gala. 

Huge. 

It was grand, the entire hall seeming to be spat right out of a castle with about a hundred fancy-looking people inside. You thought it would’ve been uninteresting and difficult to communicate with others tonight and put on your best fake smile, though the night’s atmosphere amassed with champagne, good food and great conversationalists left you in a better mood than you expected. 

It was actually quite fun, finding yourself genuinely conversing with the people Taehyung dragged you to meet, keeping to your promise of staying right by his side the whole night, and he kept his, never having left you. 

You’d met various people, having gotten familiar to Taehyung’s high-status world of business and relations. Long story short, Taehyung knew a lot of people, and you were surprised at how extroverted he suddenly seemed.  

He was practically a social butterfly, not having forgotten a single name of who he spoke to along with somehow remembering personal details about their lives. It left you impressed, joining along with his light-hearted conversation with your own extrovert tendencies. 

Everyone you’d met had been nice so far, but by far the most amusing people you’d met had to have been Taehyung’s 5 best friends, the same ones you’d seen in his photographs. 

“Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon and Seokjin, they’re brothers.” 

Both tall and quite frankly broad men greeted you warmly, one of them having a nice dimply smile while the other was far too handsome to be looked at for free. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They said after another, reaching out to shake your hand. “We’re co-CEOs of one of Korea’s largest private airline.” Namjoon of the two informed.   

“Likewise. And wow, that’s impressive.” You complimented. “Might I also say, you’re both.. tall.” You had to almost crane your neck to meet their eyes, thankful for the heels you were wearing as the group laughed at your remark. 

“Perhaps, though you’re quite short yourself, Y/N.” Seokijn commented light-heartedly, causing you to playfully pout and retort him. “Oh c’mon, I hear that from Taehyung already, not you too.” You giggled, absentmindedly leaning into Taehyung as he tensed, your body pressing into his. 

“It’s cause Taehyung likes short girls, teasing means he likes you.”  A built looking man with longer hair suddenly joked, nudging Taehyung with his elbow.

“Shut up, Jungkook. I was gonna give you a proper introduction, not anymore.” Taehyung scolded, though Jungkook persisted. 

“Well, you just said my name, that’s already half the intro.” Jungkook then gently took your hand, placing a chaste kiss against the back of it you didn’t expect at all. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Korea’s largest game development company.” Jungkook sent you a kind smile and it was hard to not compare him to a bunny, his teeth reminding you of one. 

“Yah, don’t do that” Taehyung swatted Jungkook’s hand away, protesting disapprovingly. 

“Woah, did Taehyung just get jealous?” Namjoon inquired shocked.

“Somebody get their phone out, we’ll need evidence I didn’t hit him first.” Jungkook held up his hands in mock surrender. 

“Jungkook, the only thing we’re finding in our phones is videos of you nibbling on carrots.” Taehyung quipped and it made the group chortle, yourself speaking up at the mention of a rabbit. 

“Actually, I was thinking you resemble a bunny.” You simply wanted to voice an observation, though it sent the whole group into a frenzy. 

“See Jungkook! Other people notice it too!” A man you hadn’t been introduced to yet suddenly burst out, though you could automatically tell he gave off this radiant energy that was infectious. 

He almost felt like the sun. 

“Whatever, Hoseok, you’re like a squirrel.” Jungkook countered and you digested the man’s name for information. 

“And you’re a rabbit, you better buy me what we wagered.” Hoseok scolded from what you could assume, was the younger of the two. 

“Wagered? I don’t remember anything about that.” Jungkook feigned innocence as he looked off to the side.

“Jungkook, we were all there that day, you owe Hoseok a vending machine.” Namjoon spoke up, laughing through the remark. 

“Guys. Y/N is literally right here, we didn’t even introduce ourselves properly.” A man with a fairly sweet voice interjected. He had such soft visuals, almost similar to an angel if you wanted to be honest. 

He then looked to you with a sweet smile, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Park Jimin, CEO of Park Hotels & Resorts”

“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.

“Ohh, nice to meet you!” You perked up, his aura making you feel all comfortable and giggly, there was just something about his bubbly energy. 

The man named Hoseok then extended his hand, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jung Hoseok. Sorry for the late introduction, but I basically own a bunch of famous clubs across Korea.” He laughed all dimply and warm, and he really did remind you of the sun. 

“Oh wow, hopefully we’ll get to visit sometime! Clubs are so fun.” You lit up, all excited about a good club scene until Taehyung ruined your fun. 

“Nuh uh, not after your little drunk scene at our engagement party.” Taehyung looked down at you and chastised. 

“Taehyung, it wasn’t even that much. Don’t be dramatic.” You scolded him back. 

“Alright Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, I almost had to carry you.” 

“I was walking just fine last time I remembered.” You crossed your arms and feigned innocence, Taehyung growing scandalized. 

“Oh really, now?” He cocked an eyebrow, just about to continue until Namjoon interjected. “Looks like married life’s been treating you guys well.” 

“Of course, they look practically in love.” Hoseok beamed sarcastically, gesturing towards you both.

“C’mon, Taehyung, tell us what you love about her. Let’s see the simping.” Jungkook playfully taunted Taehyung, egging him on.  

“Shut up. You all already know our marriage isn’t real.” Taehyung rebutted the younger man, eyes narrowed. 

You were taken aback, eyes flashing to Taehyung. “They know?” 

“Of course they do, your best friend knows too, doesn’t she?” Taehyung was referring to Hana, and you acquiesced realizing he had a point. 

“You know, you guys say it’s a fake marriage but you look pretty close to me.” Jimin pointed towards Taehyung’s arm still hugging around your waist, causing you both to realize and promptly disconnect. 

“No, we aren’t.” You and Taehyung retorted at the same time, vision snapping to each other with shocked eyes. 

“Oh c’mon, Tae, you’re really gonna say about your wife?” Seokjin teased him, playful lilt to his tone. 

“Yeah, Taehyung, just look at her, how aren’t you whipped already?” Jungkook remarked as he gestured towards you, feeling shy as your feet shuffled. 

“I’m not answering that.” Taehyung bit back with an irritated tone, folding his arms as he broke eye contact with the group. 

You decided to lighten the mood. “Guys, please, the only thing Taehyung’s whipped for is his company.” You joked, and despite the small sense of hurt saying that sentence, you felt joy making the men suddenly laugh so loudly. 

Taehyung’s shy and embarrassed expression was even more priceless. 

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re seriously the perfect match for him.” Hoseok added on as he laughed and you couldn’t help but bite back a smile, not knowing what he meant by that though taking it as a compliment.

“Alright guys, remember we had a mission: operation make-Taehyung-and-Y/N’s-marriage-seem-real-as-fuck.” Jungkook suddenly put on the theatrics and halted the group, changing the conversation. 

“Oh yeah, we had a whole plan, didn’t we?” Jimin remembered. 

“Yup. Gotta prepare them for nosey press and annoying relatives. We should start with questions they’d get asked. Make it like a fake interview or something.” Namjoon suggested, leading along the others as he pretended to hold a microphone. 

“You’re all some of the richest men in Seoul yet you’re acting like children. I don’t know you people.” Taehyung tried waving the men off while you couldn’t help but laugh, finding them the most fun people you’ve encountered. 

Childish or not, they were completely unexpected of what you thought a group of CEOs. They didn’t live up to the cliché uptight and uber sophisticated stereotype, rather open and acted however they chose. 

It was refreshing. 

“It’s cause we’re friends with you, Taehyung.” Hoseok shot back and it made everyone snicker. 

“I got it. Let’s ask them to spill some details about each other only they’d know. Someone’s bound to ask that.” Seokjin reasoned, gauging agreeance from the others. 

“Oh my God, you guys already know our marriage is fake. Why would you make this up?” You asked through a giggle, still finding the situation comical. 

“Sorry Mrs. Kim, but that’s precisely why, and I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean by ‘fake’. Now tell the good press something about Mr. Kim we don’t know.” Jungkook began the skit as he held his fake microphone towards you, the others joining in as though imitating paparazzi. 

“Alright, this is gonna be exclusive, pens ready?” You decided to join them, and they all nodded in confirmation as Taehyung flashed his eyes to you, unprepared for you to play along. 

“Mr. Kim is quite something.” You addressed him formally for effect. “He acts all mysterious and cool, but he’s actually just a cuddler who likes tea and cuts the crusts off his bread.” You relayed with a wide grin, all of them suddenly exclaiming and reacting like a high schooler has just confessed the name of their crush. 

“Oh my God, Tae, seriously? Bread crusts? What are you, like, 3?” Seokjin teased. 

“Hyung, your ears literally turn red when people give you attention. Are you 3?” Taehyung retorted and it only elicited more noise from the group, Seokjin exclaiming defensively and Taehyung bringing a hand up to his forehead, sighing. 

“Guys! Okay, let’s get some real answers here. We gotta know what Y/N would say if someone asked her.. maybe some things she likes about Taehyung. Let’s hear it.” Jimin got everyone back on track, attention on you. 

You smiled nervously and flashed a look towards Taehyung, who still had this arms folded and vision looking off to the side, ignoring the entire situation before him. 

You could tell he was pissed with the way his jaw locked, though the fact that he wasn’t paying attention made you a little more confident. 

Taehyung wasn’t exactly pissed, though if he could bonk all his friends on the head a few times he would. He knew teasing and jokes were all common within the group, he just didn’t expect to be the sole target tonight, and so he decided to smoothly neglect the conversation altogether. 

He was succeeding, not expecting you to answer their question seriously until Taehyung suddenly heard you speak up, surprised eyes flickering to you. 

“Hmm, if I had to say..” You were hesitant, Taehyung shocked you were even answering. 

What would you say? 

“He has nice, big hands.” You admitted softly, Taehyung’s brows raising with surprise. “He has a nice voice, too, and... his smile.” You added as you nodded to yourself, confirming your own list and Taehyung was left damn near speechless once again. 

He didn’t really know how to act, acknowledging his face as the most common thing people liked about him, rarely ever hearing those aspects of himself mentioned. 

And he oddly felt.. nice.

“Awh, now that’s cute, good job, Y/N.” Jungkook praised you, Hoseok then pointing his make-believe mic in Taehyung’s direction. 

“Your turn, Chairman Kim, what do you like most about your wife?” He mimicked an interviewer and everyone followed in accordance, mics shifting towards him. 

“Uhh..” Taehyung became slightly nervous under everyone’s scrutiny, not knowing if he should assume his usual unreadable nature or answer their request truthfully. 

“Tae, dude, if you don’t say anything then I will.” Jungkook declared, just about ready to speak again until you cut him off, snorting. 

“Don’t sweat it, guys. He won’t say anything.” You really knew Taehyung would have nothing to say, so you crossed your arms and became uninterested in the conversation.

Until Taehyung spoke. 

“She does this pouting thing.. with her lips. It’s cute.” Taehyung started, coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly and peer at anything but a pair of eyes. “Her height.. and her eyes. She has nice eyes.” 

The floor had to be tired of you by now, because Taehyung seemed to make you want to fall hard pretty often. You didn’t know what to do, eyes blown and nearly on the verge of choking, unable to believe a Godly being like Taehyung just admitted to liking something about you. 

Is this what it feels like to win at life?

His words kept ringing in your head, melting into a shy mess with your cheeks beyond hot, avoiding eye contact with everyone while Taehyung grew slightly embarrassed, similarly looking off to the side. 

“Holy shit, you guys are actually cute.” Jimin remarked through a chuckle as he  pointed at you both, you and Taehyung mirroring the same look of horror while protesting at the same time. “No we aren’t!” 

And it only made the men crack up even harder. 

It was laugh after laugh as that conversation went on, finding a quick and pleasant liking to Taehyung’s friends. They’d made it clear as day they liked you as well, to be precise they seemed to love you, making playful nudges at Taehyung for saying yes to someone just right for him; and you seriously pondered what that exactly meant. 

It was further into the night now, the gala having picked up in activity and passed the long social hour, now leading into more of a party scene as upbeat music filled the hall. 

You’d stuck with Taehyung the whole night as promised, having met more of the people he knew. The evening had been quite calm, both you and Taehyung having silently, though mutually ignored the conversation from before for sanity purposes, only focusing on the additional people you met. 

Taehyung and yourself had been talking up a storm with Jimin for the past half an hour, Taehyung introducing him as his best friend and getting the full run down of how that came about. It was highly entertaining, listening to mentions of alcohol, 4AM fighting and even an incident with dumplings. 

It had you three laughing merrily while music played, Taehyung’s arm draped around you like it had been for majority of the night, practically hugging you to him. He was elaborating on a story that had something to do with a dream-catcher, all smiles and giggles. 

That was until Taehyung suddenly froze next to you, sight seeming to set on a person behind Jimin and he immediately changed his aura. 

“Jimin, what the fuck? Did you invite him?” Taehyung cocked his head in the general direction, eyes set hard. 

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up and and casually looked behind him, registering the culprit himself and turning back to Taehyung. “Holy shit, no, I didn’t.” 

“Then why is he here?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, Tae. My parents probably invited him, I’m sorry.” Jimin apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck, growing apprehensive.

“Don’t worry, Jimin. It’s just.. not him, not fucking him.” Taehyung’s voice grew a little darker, almost hateful as his hand gripped around you tighter.  

“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” You asked tentatively, though didn’t exactly get a response since Taehyung became distracted, talking more so to himself. 

“Why the fuck is he here of all people? Of all damn people..” Taehyung scoffed to himself humorlessly, clearly annoyed. 

“Taehyung, who?” 

“Nobody, we’re getting a drink. Jimin, please?” Taehyung and Jimin had a conversation with their eyes, Jimin immediately nodding and moving towards a certain man you barely caught sight off before Taehyung was pulling you away. You tried protesting, but the tightened grip around you and Taehyung’s frustrated expression was enough to shut you up. 

Something was seriously wrong. 

You followed him along quietly until you heard a bit of a commotion behind you, able to distinguish Jimin’s voice protesting. You almost looked back until a stranger suddenly snuck up on Taehyung, draping an arm over him. 

“Kim Taehyung! Where you going? Damn, it’s been long.” The man spoke as he lowered his hand to Taehyung’s back, nearly smacking it as though they were old time buddies. 

Though the expression that painted Taehyung’s face said completely otherwise; he looked extremely irritated, and not the playful type. 

“Hisung, yeah, it has.” Taehyung bleakly acknowledged him, said man with an arm still draped over Taehyung’s shoulders until he shrugged him off harshly, pulling you closer to him protectively.

It made the man direct his attention to you. “Oh, this is your wife, right? Nice to meet you, Han Hisung.” The man smiled and extended his hand, not knowing if you should extend yours until Taehyung blatantly cut the man off, physically blocking his hand. 

“Skip the pleasantries, Hisung, what do you want?” You were shocked to see this emotion on Taehyung; rarely having seen him frustrated, trying to manage his annoyance as he gave Hisung a dead stare, intimidating as ever. 

Though Hisung didn’t cower like everyone else did, seeming to rather thrive.

“I don’t want anything. I can’t just meet your wife?” He coated his tone condescendingly, gesturing towards you. 

“No, you can’t. We’re getting a drink.” Taehyung seriously seemed bothered as he began walking you away with him, the harder squeeze of his hand around you indicating he was either growing more irritated, didn’t want to let you go, or a mix of both. 

“Oh, c’mon.” Hisung pulled Taehyung back by the shoulder but Taehyung becomes irritated, shoving his arm away harshly. 

“Not now, Hisung. Not at Jimin’s event.” Taehyung warned him as though he was crossing a fine line, and you grew afraid of what would occur if that were compromised.  

“What, I’m not doing anything.” Hisung held out his arms, feigning innocence. “I gotta say though, if I wanted one thing it’d be to say your wife’s hot as fuck.” He cocked an eyebrow and began eyeing you in your dress, growing uncomfortable and sending him a dirty look, though you naturally leaned closer towards Taehyung and he took notice. 

“Say that again I’ll make you regret it, Hisung.” Taehyung’s jaw was locked, a protective feeling overwhelming him. 

“You’re seriously gonna introduce her to everyone but me?” Hisung looked offended. “She should know who I am, especially to you.” He tried making a point, eluding to something between them. 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung flat out rejected him, his expression blunt as he seemed to radiate unbothered energy. 

“I think you should. She should know the kind of man her husband is, and what he’s done.” He said knowingly, in a daunting way that accused Taehyung of something that seemed deeper than it looked.  

“There’s nothing to know, and I never did anything.” Taehyung simply denied, as though he’s said this multiple times.

“Really? You don’t wanna tell her about how you sabotage people? Use your money to buy success?” 

Taehyung had to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing out frustrated. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ve never done shit like that. Leave.” Taehyung finalized, attempting to control his anger.

You were trying to remain calm and look on objectively, though felt a sense of worry for where this was going, only Taehyung’s seemingly instinctive guard on you keeping you from anxiety. 

Hisung scoffed, “You know, your wife should know how much of a fucking liar you are.” He spat, his vision suddenly growing narrowed as he eyed you both suspiciously. “Come to think of it, wife kinda sounds like a stretch.” 

This time it wasn’t even Taehyung responding, you beating him to the punch. “Excuse me? The fuck does that mean?” 

“Oh, so she talks.” 

You were just about stepping forward to give this asshole a piece of your mind until Taehyung suddenly gripped onto your arms from behind, pulling you to him protectively.

“Hisung, what the fuck do you want?” Taehyung’s tone was leveled with a sense of controlled rage, clear effort to contain himself and you were completely understanding of that. 

“Not much. I just find your marriage suspicious, and if I do then others do too. Wouldn’t want to taint the precious Kim reputation with that, now would we?” The remark was sly, causing Taehyung’s hold around you to tense.  

“What the fuck are you implying, exactly? Try making some sense.” 

“Your marriage isn’t convincing, jackass. There’s no way you two are really married, don’t think I don’t know there’s something behind it.” He stared squarely back at Taehyung, determined. “And when I get my hands on that information, don't think you're the only one who can sabotage someone.” Hisung was resolute as he declared his threat, only making Taehyung more resentful, more rash. 

“Your opinion doesn’t matter to me, jackass. Nothing you do does” Taehyung was confident in the argument and it oddly made you proud, now understanding why he was so successful and well-acclaimed. It’s like he truly didn't care what others thought and only lived for the purpose of what he found important to him, contributing to his confidence and composed approach towards life. He carried himself with an affirmed sense of self-worth that never bordered egotistical, and you were lying if you said it wasn’t hot sometimes. 

Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot. 

Hisung laughed humourlessly, hissing. “I don’t think we can say the same about Mrs. Kim, though, her opinion should matter to you, right?” He then suddenly turned his vision to you and drew closer, speaking in a superficially saccharine tone. “Jagiya, you should really look into who your husband is. He’s not half the man he says he is.” Hisung suddenly came too close and Taehyung immediately tugged you behind him, shielding your smaller frame as his tone dangerously darkened. 

“Don’t call her that, and never fucking come near her.” Taehyung was seething now, clutching one of your hands so tightly you became worried of his heightened emotions.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Hisung mimicked him. “She should know I’d treat her better than her asshole of a husband, make sure she’s nice and satisfied with how much of a man I am compared to you.” Hisung remarked without a single care, and you nearly felt the blooding searing in Taehyung’s veins. 

But you could tell that was exactly Hisung’s goal; to rile Taehyung up and it unfortunately worked. No longer was the calm, cool and collected Taehyung you knew, instead feeling him suddenly rush towards Hisung with a fist until you gripped onto his jacket from behind, calling his name. 

“Tae.” Your voice was soft, immediately stopping him as you clutched urgently. Taehyung could hear the frailty of your worried voice, could feel your little hold on his jacket as he came to his senses.

Taehyung grinded his teeth hard as his fist tightened for a mere second before steadily loosening, calming himself down before he made his last remark. “Go fuck yourself, Hisung.” Taehyung spat with pure disdain as he turned around and swept up your hand, leading you away from the situation as far as possible. 

He pulled you along hastily, walking with a sense of speed that almost had you tripping on your dress. You were seconds from telling him to slow down until he stopped you both in a hallway.

“Taehyung, wh-” You almost got out until Taehyung suddenly pushed you up against the nearest wall, breath hot and heavy as he huffed frustratedly, raw anger written all over him. 

Taehyung’s entire towering body was unexpectedly inches from you, his forearms laid against the marble tiling above your head as he hung his own low, almost trying to conceal his face into your shoulder. It’s like he was blocking you off from any other person, defensively caging you as his chest rose and fell shallowly with white hot anger, your face tucked into his shoulder. His heated breath was continuously tickling the exposed skin of your neck, so close your heart was beating faster than it should’ve. 

You were only left shocked, hands fallen slack by your sides and unable to move. 

“I’m sorry.” He huffed out suddenly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m just.. really angry right now and I can’t calm down.” Taehyung seemed infuriated though worried, his hands clutching into fists above you as he leaned in even closer, mere centimeters between you two as he remained pressed into your personal space.

“Shit, don’t be scared I just-fuck, I hate him. He’s the only person who makes me so angry.” Taehyung breathed out frustratedly, eyes shut as he tried to control himself. “And fuck, I didn’t want him near you. I don’t want him to talk to you. I don’t want anyone to fucking come near you.” 

Taehyung’s confessions kept coming and you were simply taken aback, another show of his emotions on full display and you wondered how he always so neatly composed himself.

“Tae-”

“Just stay in front of me, please.” He begged. “Where I can see you, just stay here.” He stressed, trying his best to breathe properly but only failed. “I don’t.. think I like when other guys are around you.” He confessed out of nowhere, trying to work through the claim hesitantly at first until he eventually nodded, affirming it. 

“Yeah, I don’t like it.” He declared as he continued to lean in, his proximity allowing for you to constantly smell his intoxicating, Invictus cologne; its sexy scent paired with his perfectly tailored suit hugging the curves of his large, broad body only arousing your nerves. 

“God, fuck.” He huffed out. “No matter what, stay away from Hisung. Never talk to him. He ruins everything he touches, every fucking thing.” Taehyung was dead serious, still hiding his face from you as he spoke angrily near your ear. “He’s been trying to ruin me for years. He’s already tried with everything else and he’ll come for you. He can’t ruin our marriage, and I swear to God if he fucking does anything to you-”

“Taehyung, hey, shh.” You brought your hands up to his chest to try calming him down, able to discern Taehyung ever rarely grew angry and when he did, just needed someone to quell his troubles. “Breathe, Taehyung, breathe, okay?” You spoke with a soft tone, trying to contrast the white hot anger you could sense in him by rubbing his chest pacifyingly. 

Taehyung immediately tensed at the action, almost in shock until he ultimately tried to breathe, slow and steady. 

“There you go, that’s better.” You encouraged into his shoulder, hands resting and lightly massaging as you inquired. “Talk to me, Taehyung, what’s wrong? Who’s Hisung?” 

“Fuck, I’ll get angry again.” He warned, breath still hot and heavy as you smoothed over his dress shirt, trying to soothe him.  

“It’s okay. I’m here, Tae, you have me. Tell me anything.” You assured and attempted to mirror his own words from a week ago, worried about his open show of emotions and thinking you should be helpful, make sure you're supplying all the support he needs because he may never be this open again. 

Taehyung’s temper was still high, more of his hot breath on your shoulder as he spoke, lips still by your ear and the bass in his voice sending currents through you. 

“It goes back 3 years, rival companies.” He began. “His father was dismissed as CEO and they held a shareholders meeting to decide a new one. Long story short, he won the vote, but only by a 49-51 percent margin. He barely scrapped by, and after he was appointed CEO he found out his major shareholders voted against him. What made things worse was that right after, they pulled all their shares from his company and invested in mine, and he fucking-” Taehyung was growing frustrated again recounting the story, his body rising and falling faster until your hands snaked up to his jaw, fingers splaying across his cheeks as you held his face pacifyingly. 

“Taehyung, breathe again. You’re fine.” You felt him listen to you, breathing deeply as he became more composed again, continuing.

“He thinks I sabotaged him, that I colluded with his shareholders and used my money when I never did. I only had acquainted relationships with them at the time and never convinced them of anything. They told me they chose to invest because they saw me as the better company, the more competent CEO.” Taehyung was venting, and you let him exactly do so by attentively listening, holding him. 

“It wasn’t my fault, but he thinks it is. And now he’s made it his life’s mission to ruin mine, ruin anything he can get his hands on because he’s convinced I ruined his.” Taehyung sounded upset, clearly fed up with having to deal with such an incessant pain in the ass. 

“Just not you,” He sounded like he was pleading, a whisper. “Not fucking you, he can’t ruin us, or our marriage.”  

“He won’t, Taehyung. We won’t let him.” The pads of your thumbs smoothed over Taehyung’s skin, trying to ease him as he moved back slightly, vision meeting yours.

“Y/N, I don’t lie. I wouldn’t sabotage anybody, I don’t play dirty like that. Even if the business world is riddled with people like that, I would never do it. I’m not like that at all.” A hint of desperation leaked into his tone, eyes gentle as he so emphatically tried to convince you he was nothing like Hisung said. 

And you found your heart softening thinking about the fact that it affected him so much. That while he didn’t care what others thought of him, he somehow valued what you thought. 

“Taehyung, don’t worry, I know, okay? You’re completely fine. He just tries to rile you up because he knows you’re better, more competent.” You slid your hands back down over his neck, letting them rest over his strong chest again. It made your breaths uneven, registering how close he was to you, just inches from your face. 

“He probably knows those shareholders chose you because you’re the better CEO. He knows it, he just tries to deny the truth by looking for ways to ruin your life, so he doesn’t have to accept he’s inferior.” You offered earnestly, rhythmically smoothing him over. Taehyung’s eyes suddenly swirled with a sense of ease, his tense body now seeming to relax. “You think so?” 

“Of course, Tae. You’re nothing like that, I know you’re not.” You said determinedly, gripping his shirt lightly to drive your point forward, eyes conveying warmth. 

Though the response that met you was Taehyung gazing into your eyes boldly as he heard you address him so casually by a nickname already, his look containing something you couldn’t decipher, and it left butterflies swarming your chest. 

You didn’t realize how intoxicatingly close you both were in this position; Taehyung’s arms caging you against the wall, body pressing into you as he looked at you, not breathing hard anymore but hotly, like he was feeling something he was attempting to manage. Your hands funnily contrasted the size of his chest as he glanced at them, then up at him, clutching him a little tighter the more the tension seemed to build.  

It was obvious now, both of you were merely staring at each other, Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and your eyes followed the movement, something unknown alighting inside you at the image. It called necessary attention to his sculpted neck and you found yourself wondering if you’d ever get to lay kisses on it, possibly even mark it

You bit your lip at the thought, hating that such an idea dawned on you, igniting with something unholy the more you breathed in his sexy scent, his large body enclosing you. It sent chills down your spine, trying to contain yourself by shifting and clamping down on your lip harder.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered to the very action, his undivided attention now on your mouth. He could feel every harder squeeze of your hands on his chest as the heat rose, fisting his own hands against the wall with the need to draw himself closer to you, especially with the way you looked right now. 

Taehyung already couldn’t keep his hands off you when you resembled the hottest, and yet most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen in that dress. Either a sweet angel descended from heaven or the right kind of demon he craved. It was even more difficult knowing it’s a dress he chose, adoring the way you were wrapped up in his favourite colour, and thought red has never looked better on anyone else.

It also made him think of some things he shouldn’t speak aloud. Though Taehyung knew you, and knew you weren't ready for anything of that sort, so he remained collected and only stuck to having an arm around you tonight, mindful of boundaries. 

But when you were under his scrutiny, smaller self tucked against a wall because of him and clearly hot and bothered yourself, your exposed skin raking his brain, he couldn’t keep from nearing your lips. 

He’s once felt how soft they were before, seeing on multiple occasions how plushy they truly are and desiring to feel that same soft sensation again. So he disregarded all thought, coming forward inch by inch as he gauged your response, and when he viewed you fluttering your eyes shut and lifting your head towards him, he fought back cracking a smirk. 

Taehyung was milliseconds from connecting your mouths, feeling the skin of his lips blissfully brush yours as his sweet breath invaded your mouth, only for a frantic voice suddenly calling out his name to interrupt, the very culprit tumbling into the hallway. 

“Taehyung! Y/N- oh shit.” Taehyung immediately ducked his face away from you and you hastily let him go, Taehyung puffing out frustrated air as he met his friends’ eyes. “Jimin.. what?” 

“I-uh. I’m sorry, but I got Hisung kicked out and we’re gonna start the last toast. You guys should um...be there.” Jimin cleared his throat and began shuffling, avoiding eye contact with the both of you. 

“Okay, we’re coming.” 

“Sorry, again.” Jimin bowed lightly and nearly made a break for it. 

Taehyung sighed heavily, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up as he freed you, finally able to breathe peacefully. 

“We should um.. go.” He voiced awkwardly.

“Yeah.. just give me a second. I’ll be back from the restroom.” You dared to make eye contact with him to seem unaffected, though panicked the instant your gazes locked.

“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.

You grasped the skirt of your dress and your heels clacked against the tiled flooring as you scurried off, needing to find the bathroom to see whether or not you appeared as much of a mess as you felt. 

You bolted inside and ran towards the sink, spotting two women possibly your age by the mirror though ultimately ignored them, patting over your cheeks to feel how warm they were. 

Were you really just seconds away from kissing Taehyung? Kissing him? What would’ve happened if Jimin never walked in? Would you have kissed him for however long, would you have stopped it? 

Even better question, why didn’t you stop it? Why were you so ready to kiss him, maybe even excited by the very idea? It sent a chill down your spine, even recalling that Taehyung stated earlier he liked your lips. 

Kim Taehyung liked your lips, the same ridiculously high-status, wealthy man people were on their knees for, practically Seoul’s most powerful CEO and Korea’s seemingly unattainable bachelor; that same Taehyung was the one who liked not only your lips, but your height, even your eyes. 

He said they were nice. 

You didn’t even want to unbox the entire Hisung situation. He so naturally defended you, even held you back out of consideration for your safety it seemed, and it frightened you how much you liked it, liked that he was so protective and made all those confessions about disliking other men around you.

It may have been possessive, but you fucking liked it. 

And you already felt doomed. 

You were simply imploding on yourself, having your own personal meltdown when one of the two women audaciously addressed you, tone light and airy. 

“Oh my God, are you Min Y/N?” She inquired. 

You flashed your eyes to her, answering with furrowed eyebrows. “Uh, Kim Y/N now, but yes.” 

“Wow, so you’re the woman Kim Taehyung married?” The other one perked up. 

“..Yes.” You answered confused.  

The other woman really scoffed here, scoffed, “Song-i, it’s the other way around. She married him.” The rather rude looking woman clarified, and you found out right after just how rude she was. “The Kim Taehyung would never willingly marry someone like her.” 

Your expression immediately contorted, unbelieving of her audacity. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t think we’re stupid, everyone knows you seduced him into it.” She nearly spat, tone snobby as ever. 

You guffawed humourlessly, truly having it up to here with today because it seemed never-ending with bullshit. “Think what you want, but I didn’t seduce him.” 

“We know you’re lying, he wouldn’t marry some runaway like you. You came out of nowhere, you clearly got into his bed before you got him to the altar.” The other one added on, painting their twisted narrative together. 

“It wasn’t like that all, but if you want to think so because you’re not the one he takes home at night, then be my fucking guest.” You countered them, look sharp enough you were sure you could cut a diamond. 

They both took immediate offence, having the audacity to near you and invade your personal space. “You’re not the only woman he’s taken home, do you really think you’re special?” She insinuated something you weren’t dumb enough to not catch, heart sinking at the thought. 

“What exactly are you trying to get at?” 

“The fact that he married you as a favour, you runaway, and everyone knows your marriage isn’t love at all.” She relayed with a snippy tone. “Don’t you get you’re just charity to him? Everyone knows it, sweetie.” 

You were trying hard to think of a way to counter, though your stinging heart took the jab like it was white hot lightning. You felt crushed within seconds at the comment hitting home, sinking lower until you spoke up. 

“Our marriage isn’t your business. Maybe try getting a life before you revolve it around mine.” You spat as you sent them a petty look, making your way out and almost exiting until you felt a splash of water hitting the back of your hair, mouth falling agape at the sheer audacity of what just fucking happened. 

“Your life is fucking miserable. You’ll stay by his side but he’ll never love you. Keep acting like your his real wife and see what’ll happen. Everyone hates you and how you made him marry you out of pity. Watch your back, runaway, you never know when he might end it all and break your little heart.” You almost, almost turned around to land a right hook across the girl’s face until you decided against it, composing yourself with a breathing mantra and instead choosing your favourite way of leaving a bad situation. 

With a snarky last word. 

“Seems he’s already broken yours with this ring, huh? Stay mad at the ring bitches, stay mad at the ring.” You smiled condescendingly as you flaunted Taehyung’s twelve thousand dollar ring, walking out of the bathroom despite their exclamations and practically marching towards the hall, seething. 

You arrived inside and plopped down on your seat next to Taehyung bitterly, utterly vexed as you crossed your arms and grinded your teeth. 

“Hey, where were you?” Taehyung asked. “You missed the toast.” 

“Could’ve done it without me anyway.” You replied curtly, all the information you received in just 2 minutes ruling your thoughts and sending you into a storm of anger, spoiling your mood. 

Taehyung became confused. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing.” You huffed and reached for your glass of water, taking a large swig and nearly slamming it back onto the table. 

Taehyung reacted surprised. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” He became apprehensive of your mood, grabbing your hand on the table gently as he searched for your eyes. 

Though he instead found your eyes flashing towards something else, someone else before you snatched your hand away, eyes set cold.  

“I said nothing.” 

Taehyung followed your previous line of sight and landed on two women finding their seats a few tables away, their own eyes immediately deflecting from him once he made eye contact.

And it really only took two seconds for Taehyung to connect the dots, recognizing their faces. 

Taehyung sighed heavily, feeling guilty and suddenly apologetic about the possible situation, knowing something must have been said to you. 

He turned back around, “Y/N, what happened?” He tried inquiring again, though you responded with absolutely nothing, completely crossed and avoiding him. 

He exhaled tiredly, this day having been the epitome of a joke. Taehyung was scanning over you again when he suddenly noticed the ends of your hair, distinguishing they were wet and he found it strange. “Y/N, why the fuck is your hair wet?” He was moving to touch the damp parts until you evaded him, tone rigid. 

“Nothing, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung sighed again, frustrated as he once again put two-and-two together, remembering you’d all come from the restroom and addressed you. “What did they say, Y/N? Tell me right now, is that why your hair’s wet?” 

“No, Taehyung, nothing happened,” You stressed, turning your body even further away from him and crossing your arms tighter. 

Taehyung determined he’s truly had enough of today and rose from his seat, you noticing though choosing to ignore him. Taehyung quickly resolved he was going to fix this, beyond agitated this entire day had been damned to hell. He was having a good time too, especially keeping in mind whatever in God’s name was happening between you two, and only knowing that it made him inexplicably happy for some reason. 

Though that mood was ruined now, Taehyung shaking away his thoughts as he began plotting his approach towards your situation, entirely pissed off as he made his way towards the bar, concocting his plan. 

It took Taehyung only a good 10 minutes to get what he needed, snatching the nicest bottle of champagne and trying to remember where he’d observed the two women sitting, strolling his way over to the table with his fakest grin.  

“Good evening, ladies.” He greeted with a saccharine tone as he neared them. 

“Oh my God, Taehyung!” One of the girls beamed. “We haven’t seen you so long, what are you doing here?” 

“Yeah, too long!” 

“It has.” Taehyung smiled. “I actually wanted to offer this.” Taehyung then revealed the bottle of champagne from behind his back, holding it out towards them. 

The two women became elated, practically cheering as they clearly admired Taehyung more than he liked. “Oh wow! Thank you so much!” One of them thanked, receiving the bottle bashfully. 

“You’re too kind, Taehyung, did you really get this for us?” The other inquired, a bright smile on her face. 

“Actually, I didn’t.” 

Both women looked at each other confused, eyebrows furrowed. “You.. didn’t?” 

“No,” Taehyung responded with a bleak expression in near offence they’d assume that, smile wiped from his face. “You both did.”

“Wh-what?” They both questioned, incredulous. 

“I put it on your tabs, geniuses. There’s 6 more bottles, by the way.” 

Both women’s eyes went wide, immediately protesting. “T-this is the most expensive bottle of champagne here!” They looked annoyed, and Taehyung was all about it.  

“I know.” Taehyung smiled condescendingly, drawing closer to the women and dropping his tone to a scarily low, threatening octave. 

“Say anything to my wife again and I’ll make sure you pay more.” Taehyung finalized and rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he walked away, smirking. He ignored their protests as he passed by the bartender, winking for the 6 other bottles of champagne to be delivered to them. 

Taehyung then made his way to you, now in a hurry to leave this awful night behind as he gently gripped your arm, speaking into your ear to not alert anyone else at the table. “Y/N, we’re leaving.” 

Taehyung didn’t really have to wait, you responding rapidly, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” You were already rising from your seat, done with this entire Godforsaken night yourself. 

You both stepped away together, just about reaching the hall doors until Taehyung stopped you in front, holding you by your arms. “Stay here, I’ll get your coat.” 

You nodded at him and Taehyung bolted off, wanting to nab your coat as fast as possible so he could drape it around you and practically flaunt your relationship in front of everyone. He didn’t care if it was fake anymore, didn’t care for the legitimacy of his actions; he simply wanted the world to know you’re his wife, purposely wanted those two girls and everyone to see him treating you affectionately.

And he most certainly wanted to squash any of the doubt Hisung called attention to earlier that kept bugging him, entailing your marriage already seeming fake to him, and could to multiple other people.  

So he retrieved the coats and came rushing back to you, having worn his as he approached you. You almost reached out for your coat until Taehyung halted you. 

“Don’t, I’m putting it on you.” He rounded the coat around your body, helping your arms into the sleeves. He pulled it snug around you and held onto the ends where it should’ve been buttoned, taking a moment to think. 

Taehyung simply gazed at you, licking his lips contemplating what more he could do in this moment that would be convincing enough, knowing there had to be people watching you two right now. 

He realized he was staring without having said anything. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of something to do for everyone watching but I don’t know what.” Taehyung flashed to your lips and his mind explored the idea, though ultimately fought against it. 

“People are watching?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” Taehyung clutched onto your jacket, trying to think as he looked at your little bundled up self. 

“But I’m not sure what to do-” Taehyung was cut off by you suddenly grabbing his tie and crashing your lips onto his in a single second. 

Taehyung’s eyes blew out, taken by surprise until he found himself quickly melting into your kiss, hands gripping your jacket tighter. He couldn’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace. 

You instantly loved the way he kissed, Taehyung somehow having taken control when you were the one who initiated everything, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips. 

Taehyung didn’t care if your lipstick smudged onto him or how brash the public display of affection seemed; all he cared about was the soft feeling of your lips against his own, and the sexy way you wre tugging him by his tie.

He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks. 

You were getting lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with undecipherable feelings, shimmering eyes that had no clue what just happened. 

Taehyung smiled before sweeping up your hand in an instant, pulling you out of the hall and eventually outside to quickly sent a text to his driver, guiding you to the curb of the venue. 

He held you against him to keep you warm while walking, suddenly speaking up when something occurred to him. 

“You called me Tae, you know.” 

“What?” 

“My nickname, you called me by it earlier.” Taehyung repeated. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just heard your friends say it and it slipped out, I didn’t mean to-”

“Say it all you want.” Taehyung was grinning to himself like an idiot, thinking you weren’t looking at him but that’s exactly what you were doing, admiring the curve of his perfect cupid’s bow with hints of your lipstick smeared on him. “It’s better when you say it.” 

And now it was your turn to smile like an idiot. 

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tags : @thedarkwinterrose​ @ayujaded​ @couldbeyourlast​ @ladyarmanto​ @anpanman-sonyeondan​ @apollukee​ @blueevelvt​ @taesluttt​ @scalubera​ @laurynne5​ @dreamsindreamss​ @thequeen-kat​ @awsome-small-k​ @wrecklesssly​ @kweenhu​ @jalexad​ @staerify​ @bangforever​ @dyriddle​ @aianloveseven​ @waves-and-woods​ @hoefortaeshands​ @veronawrites​ @nightapple4jk​ @wataemelonz​ @aomi-nabi​ @katbonv​ @hantaev​ @jinpuddin​ @usamizuki​ @wooya1224​ @bambuzlee​ @jenotation​ @tangledsparkles​ @pcyxljh​ @forbts-only​ @dumplingley​ @ccmemoirs​ @kleritata​ @thelilbutifulthings​ @maygem2780​ @lachimolala95​ @betysotelo18​ @prettycoolting​ @opaljm​ @jeonlovers​ @honeyboocal​ @preciouschimine​ 

[lolita-lollipop]

yandere other mother x reader- Coraline au

warnings- yandere behavior, platonic yandere, manipulation, slight infantilism, mentions of neglect, false reality,

this one really isn't bad, but just to warn you, if any of these things trigger you, please don't read!

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“Y/n this is insane! Can’t you see that she’s crazy?!” Coraline yelled at you from inside the dusty room while the three ghosts watched, their mouths had been sewn shut long ago, so they weren’t able to intervene. You stood there, feeling like you wanted to cry, this “other mother” was amazing, your real parents never showed much affection, going far enough that it could be Called neglect, so when your other mother held you in her lap, and braided your hair, and gave you warm hugs, and kisses on the cheeks, you felt happy. Your other father was just as amazing, but still, their treatment of you felt similar to one of a baby’s, always treating you like a young child who can’t think for themselves. Coraline noticed this far earlier, while you remained happy and oblivious, the buttons for eyes were the last straw for her.

“I know okay! I just, she’s so nice, I don’t even know what to think anymore, you know what it feels like to actually have parents… I don't, my entire life I’ve been shoved in a little blue house down the stairs and told ‘don't disappoint us’ by my parents! I just want to feel loved… it’s just, it’s just not fair” you spoke, lip quivering, you couldn’t even remember the last time you allowed yourself to cry, you weren’t supposed to love the “other parents” but you did, they were the parents you never had, and you just had to live them. At this point silent tears were trailing down your cheeks, Coraline remained fuming at you, not even sparing a moment to acknowledge the two small black buttons that seemed to appear out of nowhere, peeking through the wall.

“That doesn’t matter, do you really want tiny little needles poking in and out of your eyeballs? Do you really want to leave your real parents behind? Do you want me to leave you behind?” She seethed, you shook your head, letting out a few small whimpers and sobs under your breath, you hated that she was right, you hated it so much, you couldn’t just leave everything in the real world for this parallel universe void of life, you should want to back there right? where no one cared about you, where no one loved you, where you were nothing.

“Coraline? Is that any way to speak to your friend?” A soft voice rang from behind your form, the few lost souls floating in the room ten up, showering to the far corners where the other mother couldn’t see them, then you felt warm hands engulf your waist, pulling you closer to the women’s chest, you subconsciously leave into her warmth, she glared down at Coraline, stoking your head lovingly. In reality, she hadn’t wanted for you to get pushed down here, but Coraline was getting in the way, and you just got caught in the crossfire, she did make sure that your landing was softer though, while Coraline's was harsh.

“You don’t get to tell us what to do, you aren’t her mother.” Coraline breathed out, slimming her eyes into a harsh stare at the woman in whose chest you were sobbing into. One moment, you were in the cold cellar-like room, the next, you were back in the baby pink room that was yours in this place, your true room was a boring white, with a ritzy mattress in the middle, and a small cabinet that served as a closet. Although you didn’t particularly like the color pink, it was nice to know that someone cared enough to bring true colors into your life. The other mother continued her embrace, picking up and cradling your head against her shoulder, you felt a wave of drowsiness overtake your senses, it hit you like a pound of bricks, and you squeezed the back of the women’s shirt to see if you were dreaming or not, her hold just felt so… comforting.

“Was she mean to you darling? Don’t you worry your little head about it, shhhhhh, just fall asleep, mother will take care of everything.” She spoke, bouncing slightly up and down with each step she took towards the large bed that was displayed in the center of the room. You barely muttered a small “wait” before falling asleep in her arms. She tenderly placed your body under the silky sheets, wrapping you up with the soft fabric and placing a small pig plushy next to you, keeping an eye on her precious’s little daughter while she tended to some “housework”.

The second you went unconscious you slipped into a weird dream, you were walking on a thin sheet of water, in a pitch dark room, it was so cold like someone had dunked you in a bucket of ice, you stared out into the nothingness, gradually growing more anxious, where are you?

“HELLO! IS ANYBODY OUT THERE!” You screamed, only to be greeted by the echo of your own words, nothing more, nothing less. You started to swivel around in a moment of panic, having just about no idea what could happen to you in this dark abyss. That was until you dek the floor below you disappear, and you popped into existence into a completely different place, it was a medium sized room, the layout was similar to a grocery store, multiple shelves made the room feel smaller, what was odd about it, was that all the shelves were packed with hundreds of snowglobes. You admired the pretty glass structures as you slowly walked down the aisles, each had a completely different design, with little figures inside, you found it adorable, ogling at the pretty things. That was until you heard quiet clicking of heels, and your other mother came into view.

“There you go, now don’t be rude to me! You are a very lucky girl that I’m even letting you live, you should know much better than to taint my daughter's mind with your filthy voice, oh you make such a great addition to my collection! Enjoy your stay, forever” she chimed, you were positive that she couldn’t see you, mainly because you were standing frozen directly in front of her, and she hadn’t acknowledged you. At least you weren’t freezing anymore! You tiptoed closer to the snowglobe that was just placed among the collections, wondering why your mother was so enthusiastic about it. And saw nothing special about it, other than the bright yellow raincoat that adorned the figurine.

you remained completely unaware. of the thousands of button eyes that watched you from the globes, begging to be shattered, and set free.

“Pretty” you muttered to yourself before the world faded again, and you were back into your body, snuggled up under the covers, clutching the pig plushy close to your chest, you felt awake, but also very asleep, forgetting your entire dream the moment your eyes opened, slightly surprised to see that you were still in the pink room, in the other house. You could hear the feint sound of your bedroom door opening, the creak rang through the room. And the other mother smiled softly at your lovable position, cooing under her breath, trying not to be too loud and wake you up.

“Darling, we have to get up now, oh I know I know your still tired, but it’s dinner time, you can’t stay in bed all night, little sleepyhead, my little sleepyhead.” She spoke, rubbing your shoulder while you groaned at the sudden speaking and noise. You didn't know how long that dream lasted, but you did know that it was odd, so odd that in fact, it made up your mind for you about the whole button eyes thing.

“Uhm- Mother? I-I’m sorry, but I- I don’t want to put buttons in my eyes.” You muttered, awaiting a harsh reaction, but instead, getting another one of her sweet smiles, she picked you up again and sat you in her lap, your small frame getting engulfed by hers.

“Oh is that what you were worrying so hard about? Don’t worry honey, you never were going to have to sow buttons in your eyes, it was just to see if I could trust you, and I know that I can trust you now.” She stated, calmly, a little too calmly. So… she lied? You got in a fight with your best friend because she wanted to “see if she could trust you”?

“Oh- okay, where coralline though? Can I talk to her? Please, mother?” You started begging after seeing her stoic expression, why did you want to see her? Was she not good enough for you? Coralline was mean to you, she hurt her little girl! Why did you want to see her? We’re you going to leave your mother for a snobby brat? She tightened her hold on you, pressing you closer to her, whispering little “shh” or “stay with me” in your ear, for some reason, you couldn't place what Coraline's face looked like, even though you had seen her just earlier, any memories of her were slowly dimming, fuzzy spots started appearing in any of those memories, and like turning of a staticky tv, they disappeared. You couldn’t even remember the name “coralline” after a few minutes of being cradled in this women’s lap.

“Cmon darling, let’s go eat dinner now, your father made it this time, I’m surprised he hasn't burn down the kitchen!” She spoke, getting a few sleepy giggles out of you. After helping you down the stairs she led you to the dining room, where you went on and sat at the large table next to your two parents. And so, you forgot about your “real” world, staying young forever here, even growing younger and smaller as time went on, forgetting about coralline, and your parents, and the small door, you lived your life happy, dressed in frilly pink clothing, learning to lobe your mother as she grew more obsessed with you, she got what she wanted in the end

You stayed mother’s little girl forever

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have a great day today :)

[sophiapathic]

Sk8: The Infinity - A Take on Love

Because my six unfinished assignments can wait until I throw this into the void, scream for five hours and after my voice gets hoarse, I resort to watching the beach episode on loop until next Saturday.

This was entirely sparked by the recap episode, which really pressed the reak havoc and theorize button in my brain. I am truly losing my grip on reality. Help. I apologize in advance, creatures of Tumblr. 

Me right now:

Anyways... 

I saw people mention here and there screaming that “we need canon relationships and they will get trust issues if a romance isn’t confirmed by the end of the series”. I think that mindset is harmful to have in this case. You can’t really avoid being disappointed if you get into the series expecting it to deliver on your wishes of gay romances. So, this might be controversial, but stay with me please. The anime and manga are both confirmed to be based primarily about the characters themselves and of course the sport -skating. I was hoping to take a closer look at what the series intends to do with certain dynamics and relationships according to yours truly. I also want explain my reasoning behind it not being queerbaiting, though it being inherently queer-coded, through the current lense of the canon.

Sk8: The Infinity is unquestionably a love story.

We need to state the genres this series is in, because some of us tend to forget. It is in fact not a shounen-ai, not a yaoi, not a romance, not even a josei. Say it with me it is a series in: COMEDY and SPORTS.

(Source is the official US Sk8 website.) The spotlight is udoubtedly on skating and what it means. Another important highlight of the show is how the definition of the sport relates to the characters, and how vastly different they are from what we expect. For example, when we see Shadow first, we pigeonhole him into this vulgar indecent rock and roll persona, only to find out later that he is actually a stweetheart at a flower shop. Joe is another very good case study. When we first see him we think of him as a womanizer muscle-head, later we find out he has a heart of gold and is very emotionally intelligent. We’re also quick to judge Miya as the cold, unfeeling prodigy then we discover how lonely and normal he is on the inside. And so on and so on. 

The show continues to defy our expectations of what each character should be like. In a way it is about breaking the conventional stereotypical roles we subconsciously assign to certain looks. We see that even in anime, multifaceted characters can exist without distrupting or damaging the delicate dynamics of a traditional sports anime. We successfully established the second focal point of the series as disproving stereotypes and presenting strong, diverse and unexpected personalities.

How about the defition of skating? What does it mean in the context of Sk8: The Infinity then? Where does a love story come into the picture? Skating is repeatedly described as a ritual of love within the anime, an idea that our villian, Ad*m, is obessed with. In a sense skating is a language of love canonically.

Then skating itself is love. Throughout the series we see varied styles of skating therefore different ways of expressing love, affection. We get to experience several metaphorical ways of “being in love” through characters skating with each other. Each dynamic shows us a type of love. Healthy, disfunctional, outright abusive. 

The way Reiki teaches Langa to skate can be interpreted as a direct metaphor for someone learning to love again after losing a person close to them. Langa’s father has died and Reiki literally brings him out of his shell again. It can also be interpreted as a queer kid’s experience of a world of romance that feels similar to his previous one, that being snowboarding, yet it still being new and different. Skateboarding. When due to Reiki Langa’s potential is discovered and his hunger for more and more develops, especially next to Ad*m, Reiki’s main frustration stems from them not being well-matched or on equal footing anymore. He feels like he cannot give Langa what he needs anymore. Which would obviously go againts the literal description of a healthy romance. Two people with mutual respect who both bring equal assets to the table. He feels like he needs to catch-up to be with Langa again. The only thing he doesn’t consider is Langa’s deep appreciation of him and the fact that literally he was the one who helped Langa experince the feeling of love again.

Kojiro and Kaoru’s relationships, to me, is very much representative of two people  wanting to be in each other’s presence, but due to their different language of love, miscommunicating horribly. Them bantering and insulting each other is the only way they know what to do with the other. The only way they can ensure the other’s attention and eyes are on them. This has worked so far. They are literal opposites, but both have a very clear definition of their form of love. To Joe skating, or love itself, is about the feeling and going with the flow. Being spontaneous. Whereas for Cherry, every move needs to be calculated and executed perfectly in order to be “efficient”. Their frustration comes from both wanting different things from the other, but not communicating their need properly. Despite this, they stick together due to a magnetic pull they obviously feel towards the other. The attraction is there, the trust is there, they are even well-matched in skill as we see them neck-to-neck constantly. They could give each other what the other wants. Only if they could express themselves well... This is why Joe pushes Reiki towards reconciling with Langa. he wants them to not fall into the same trap of not stating their  needs and thoughts properly.

Now Ad*m and Langa are obviously problematic and I don’t really want to have to explain, honestly guys. I really don’t  (since I have trauma regarding this subject), but I need to go into this a little bit. This is a textbook toxic predatory relationship. Where the older, twisted, damaged person, has an obsession with a young, outstading child. He wants to lead him into “Paradise” and show his “Eve” what love is really about. (Ain’t that disgusting you guys...) His form of love is inflicting pain, so I really can’t imagine a scenario where he and his “Eve” live happily ever after and everything is fine and dandy. He needs someone who he can torture. He literally is looking for someone who can handle his way of expressing affection, his “love hug”, who has the same type of crazy eyes for adrenaline and danger. His Eve. In his distorted mind, this all makes sense and Langa is that someone he was looking for thoughout the years. The problem is, he disregards Langa’s side where the relationship becomes problematic.

Cherry and Ad*m during their younger years seems to be a very innocent infatuation on Kaoru’s end. It is a one-sided relationship where someone is in love with the idea of a person long gone. They were discovering the world of skating, or the world of love together with Ad*m taking the lead. Cherry immediately became infatuated with him, wanted to learn his love language, wanted to be at the same level he was. It probably started very innocent. At first, Ad*m being gentle, because that’s how Tadashi was with him too, then after whatever happened between those two, Ad*m, disappointed in the way of love, or skating, Tadashi showed him, returned to what his aunts taught him. Maybe after injuring Kaoru with the “love hug”, therefore eliminating him from being his potential partner, started looking for his “Eve”, gradually became more agressive in love as in skating. Kaoru was distraught and wanted the Ad*m he originally learned love from back. Holding out some hope even years after. Trained to get used to his “love hug”, to literally condition himself to be able to get close to him. Ad*m, however showed Cherry brutally that he truly cannot handle his way of love.

Ad*m and Tadashi. *sighs* As of this post, I don’t really have enough information to give you a good overview of what I see this relationship representing. As far as I can tell Ad*m was abused horribly and to ease the pain and make him forget, Tadashi showed his another way of expressing affection. Skating or love. Basically a first love gone horrible bad, scarring an already abused child and turning them into a monster. Tadashi himself reinstates this during one of the episodes. It was his fault that Ad*m turned out the way he did. Their love slowly became strongly abusive throughout the years. Tadashi is stuck in it because he feels like he deserves it. This is a metaphor for  dangers of an emotionally and physically abusive relationship, where one person feels responsible and the other is using power. Tadashi’s guilt keeps him next to his master and he even endures abuse, now he is trying to break out and show Ad*m he messed up and I think this could potentially be a good representation of how difficult that process truly is. 

As far as Reiki’s, Miya’s, Shadow’s skating goes. Their main arc relating to love is first and foremost learning to accept themselves and aprecciating their uniqe way and style of skating. Only after can they become people who can truly be accomplished in love/skating (in Miya’s case I’m obviously talking about platonic feelings). Each of them had a preconception of their persona in love/skating, which gets questioned heavily throughout the series. Miya gets defeated, Shadow’s soft side gets discovered, Reiki... well. I get sad. :c Even though he taught someone to love again, to appreciate life again, he ended up discovering how dissatisfied he truly is with himself... These three all need to learn to love every aspect of themselves to reach fulfillment and to really experience healthy human relationships.

Sk8: The Infinity is unquestionably a love story, without explicitly being a romance, meaning that it is a tale about love, both romantic, platonic and everything inbetween through a queer-coded lens, showing both dysfunctional, abusive and healthy relationships, ways to express emotions and even delves into self-love and the idea of nature versus nurture in the villian’s case.

That is why I, personally don’t scream for a canon couple. To me, the show gets its main point about affection and love across, without making any of these relationships explicitly stated. Not to mention that it does justice to both of its assigned genres. Comedy and Sports as well. Yeah sure, I wouldn’t complain, but I think these dynamics are more than satisfying to watch, and much deeper than bishounens wanting to bang each other, which is, in my opinion, inherently sexualized. If they want, yeah they can confirm, make it canon without forcing it to be a center storyline. Hell, I would even be happy about it. I would clap with all of us. BUT, as the series currently is, I really see it taking the other route because of the above. This way audiences who want a yaoi or ikemen going at it, won’t be disappointed with the series when they find doesn’t revolve around that, straight viewers will just find it flamboyant, and people who look for subtext and want to read between the lines will certainly do that with the amount of crumbs and hints the writers gave us. 

We don’t need outright, written in black and white gay representation in Sk8 to experience very real types of love. The queer theme is secondary to me, just like queerness is, in most people’s lives. Yeah sure, it is a big thing, but not the only attribute a person has. My life doesn’t revolve around my queerness. I rarely talk about it. If I was a main character this would be a side-arc. Just like Sk8 doesn’t revolve around the characters coming out. It’s just them living their lives and possibly being queer while doing so. If you look at it this way, it is almost normalizing attraction between same-sex people by just showing it as regular love. If you can, why not interpret it this way, so it can be a liberating experience instead of a disappointing one.

Please don’t attack me! I am fragile and this is only my opinion. c:  *crawls back into her hole*

[jaskiersvalley]

I'm OBSESSED with your writing and your stories, I'm so glad I found your blog, now I always have something new to read!! ❤️❤️❤️

I remember watching you blitz through the blog, leaving likes on a lot of the stories. It really made my day! Now, who knows how many months late, I bring you some silly Witchers and their mutagens.

Kaer Morhen’s Open Door Policy

When Jaskier was invited to Kaer Morhen, he’d thought the open door policy that Geralt mentioned meant that anyone was welcome to stay for the winter. It warmed his heart that the Wolves were so welcoming and generous with their winter lodgings. What Jaskier didn’t anticipate was that said open door policy was a literal thing. He arrived in Kaer Morhen with Geralt, they were stomping snow off their boots when someone rounded the corner at some speed. Slowing down, the man made a beeline for them.

“Lambert,” Geralt greeted before he was veritably bowled over in a hug. If Jaskier squinted, he could have sworn Geralt was given a long sniff and maybe even a lick, perhaps over the lips. But surely he must have seen wrong because Jaskier himself wasn’t given such a greeting.

Two more figures appeared and introductions were made to Eskel and Vesemir. It was quite nice really, even if a lonely winter with just the five of them. However, if gave Jaskier a chance to get used to the ways of the keep. Mostly, it was learning to leave doors open a crack and how to keep the hinges well oiled at all times. If he didn’t, it was guaranteed someone would turn up.

At first Jaskier had thought it was because he wasn’t trusted, not an accepted member of the pack. But that thought was quickly thrown out the window, especially when he was dragged into the cuddle piles in front of fires. Those were rather nice, if a little too warm and sweaty for his liking. Yet, every single time he forgot about keeping a door open, whenever it snicked shut behind him or clicked open as he stepped through, within ten seconds one of the other residents appeared. Usually it was Lambert, rounding the corner at quite a pace even as he tried to make it look like he hadn’t dropped everything and run. It was rather offensive in a way, at least that was what Jaskier thought until he was sat quietly in the library, Lambert browsing for something when his head snapped up all of a sudden and he was off at full pelt. That wasn’t the first time Jaskier saw him running. On more than one occasion Lambert almost bowled him over in corridors as he rushed towards whatever he had heard.

“Doors,” Geralt had explained quietly one night. “If we hear a door open or close, there’s this overwhelming urge to go see who it is, what had happened.”

Now that Jaskier knew, he paid more attention. Any door had Lambert running. Much more sedately, Eskel would usually follow, lumbering towards the source of the noise and trying desperately to look like he wasn’t doing exactly like Lambert. However, he had a weakness, as Jaskier discovered. The cupboard doors in the kitchen. If Jaskier, or anyone else for that matter, happened to go and look in one, Eskel was bound to bumble into the kitchen within a short space of time, looking bashfully hopeful. It was cute, Jaskier even started indulging and giving Eskel snacks because the way he softened and smiled at the offering was far too endearing.

“You’re only encouraging him,” Vesemir grumbled as he watched Jaskier hand Eskel half a slice of honey coated bread. Rather than argue, Jaskier gave Vesemir the other half, not commenting on how the old Wolf appeared for seemingly no reason in the kitchen. The treat certainly silenced him.

For a first winter, it was a good one. Jaskier was satisfied when he left that he was getting the hang of the odd open doors policy. It was the next winter that proved to test his patience. As well as the Wolves, there was a Cat there too. Haughty and aloof, Aiden spent most of his time perched up high somewhere. He slowly warmed up to Jaskier though, cautious at first. However, Aiden seemed to be rather fond of the open door policy, only ever opening or closing a door when he wanted attention. And that was rather frequently. More than once a day Lambert would go running because Aiden slammed a door somewhere, wanting to play.

It was all very well until Jaskier had to use the privy. That was one door that the Wolves learned not to run to. Even though Lambert still twitched, head swivelling it its direction before grumbling and returning to what he was doing. Jaskier was trying to just have a peaceful moment to relieve himself, a considerate two stalls down from an occupied booth when he heard someone else come in.

“Lamb?” Aiden’s voice drifted through the air, a little plaintive and lost.

“What?” Not all that unusual for Lambert to sound irritated.

“What are you doing?”

Jaskier’s eyebrows shot up at the question. What could Lambert be doing in the privy other than the obvious one of four things?

“I’m taking a shit.” Well, that answered which of the four it was but Jaskier could heard the sounds of a body leaning heavily against the door.

“Oh.” Aiden sounded almost disappointed. “I thought I heard some rustling like a snack being opened.”

“I promise I’m not fucking eating while taking a shit. Who eats in here anyway?” Grumbling, Lambert scoffed. “Don’t tell me, I bet it’s Geralt.”

Jaskier couldn’t hold his tongue anymore. “Geralt most certainly does not eat in the privy.”

The sound of a body moving and Jaskier knew Aiden was stood outside the door to his cubicle. “Jaskier. You’re in there.”

“No I’m not.”

For a moment there was confused silence before Lambert growled. “I swear Aiden, if you don’t leave us alone-” his threat was lost as Aiden moved back to Lambert’s door and there was an odd scratching sound. “No. Aiden. Don’t you dare. You can’t sit on my lap here! Not again. We almost broke it last time. Get out. Get out!”

The sound of a door being kicked shut and a huff from Aiden gave Jaskier a good idea of what had jut happened and he was scared to go out. However, not a minute later another voice joined the fray.

“What happened?” Eskel asked.

Jaskier buried his face in his hands in despair. So much for a peaceful piss.

The whole door thing was becoming quite ridiculous. Especially with Aiden slamming them to get Lambert’s attention. And then being offended whenever he encountered a closed door. Those were all gently knocked on and a head poked through if there was no answer. It meant nothing was private and Vesemir had to use a broom to get Aiden off the top of his wardrobe one evening when the Cat had gone missing all afternoon. He seemed to have no respect or care for anything, not when it came to prime napping spots.

It got to the stage that the common areas had their doors removed and Vesemir started hanging heavy furs in their place. Which did actually make the rooms warmer and there was no more needless running around. Though Eskel still bumbled into the kitchen in the hopes of a shared snack. Jaskier had rapidly cottoned on to the fact Vesemir fought such an urge in a novel and simple way. He was almost always either in the kitchen or within sight of it. So he could see if there was an opportunity for a snack without having to move. The old Wolf was clever, Jaskier had to give him that.

Some days, Jaskier did crave a bit of silence and solitude. Those were rare and far between days but they did happen. When they came, he took to wandering through the crumbling corridors of Kaer Morhen, trying to imagine what it had been like in its glory days. Quite amazing, he should think. So lost was he in his musings, Jaskier didn’t notice until too late that the floor wasn’t solid below his feet. It gave way and he fell with a yelp, landing awkwardly on his ankle. The pain was quite blinding, rendering him into a whimpering mess, throat tight and unable to call for help. Even when he managed to gather himself up, it didn’t seem to help. His voice just didn’t carry and the Wolves probably couldn’t hear him. It was cold, dark and Jaskier was in pain which made it difficult to think. There was a door not far from him and, in a moment of sheer desperation, he pulled himself towards it on shaking arms. Near enough, he reached for it and, with all his might, slammed it shut. It bounced open from the force and echoed through the room. Mustering up a little more energy, Jaskier shoved it again and the crack of door hitting frame made him wince. That would have to do. Jaskier managed to lie down, pillowing his head on his arms, shivering.

His hopes were answered when he heard the steady stomp of running feet skidding to a halt.

“The fuck?” There was the sound of a deep inhale as the area was scented. “Where you got to bard?”

“Down here,” Jaskier called back and squinted towards the hole he had fallen through. “My ankle.”

“Why would you do that? Wait. Never mind.” Lambert turned away and, a hand cupped against his cheek and lips he let out what could only be called a howl before his attention was back on Jaskier. “What did we tell you about wandering off?”

More feet, more people and Jaskier teared up in relief. He watched as Aiden hopped down the hole and took stock of the damage. A soft cry of pain left Jaskier as he was picked up and his ankle was jostled. In a few, seemingly easy, jumps, Aiden was passing Jaskier over to Geralt who cradled him against his chest. There was a still body-warm jacket draped over Jaskier and he burrowed into it, finding Eskel’s scent mixing with Geralt a comfort.

In the infirmary he was patched up, fussed over and, in the end, bundled into a pile in front of a fire where the others snuggled protectively up against him. By the next morning all the doors were back in place and Vesemir ground his teeth when Aiden slammed the kitchen one for Lambert’s attention.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Song of a Mermaid Warrior pt 2

Part 2 to the mermaid story!

Decided to continue it, wanted to see where Jordan's story ends up.

You can read pt 1 here.

Enjoy!

___________________________

“Well, well, well! Never thought I’d see the mermaid herself swimming over to my fetid swamp here in the slums!”

A slim young man with bright purple hair grinned, flipping a silver coin into the air over and over without looking at it. “Thought you said you were never coming back? What, did your last book not sell as well now that you're peddling comforting little lies about your species?”

Jordan leaned against the doorframe of the dilapidated shop, wondering for the thousandth time if this was a bad idea. She knew the answer, deep down, but chose to ignore it. “Tock, cut the crap.”

“Oh sweetie, you haven’t changed. “ Tock laughed. “ I can cut the crap, but not sure what use it would be… crap is notoriously difficult to cut, tends to mush up, you know… and whose crap should be cut? Mine?” He shrugged. “ Sorry to say this body doesn’t make physical waste. What about yours?”

Jordan rubbed her forehead. “I should have known better than to do anything other than speak as literally as possible… I hate fairies.”

“You only know one fairy, darling.” Tock’s eyes blinked, the irises turning green, than orange, than staying at a robin’s egg blue. “Unfair of you to judge the whole species just because you don’t like me. Especially because I have been nothing but fair and helpful to you.”

“You tried to trick me into giving you my skin.”

“TRIED. Tried is the key word there. Plus you didn’t fall for it, so what’s the problem?”

Jordan sighed, knowing that there was never any point with arguing with Tock.

She had run into the fairy over two years ago. At that time she was frantic, trying to find Hunter’s location, and her desperation had led her to the darker corners of the city. She had spent every last coin she had, unable to eat or sleep, and at her darkest moment, she stumbled into Tock’s shop. Later Jordan had realized that it was likely that despair that had allowed her to find his place. There were magic wards to keep all but the most vulnerable out.

When they met, Tock had seen her madness, her obsession, and was ecstatic. He tried to get her to agree to many terrible deals in exchange for tracking down Hunter and after adding a small addendum she had agreed, feeling that whatever price she had to pay was worth it.

In the end, the addendum she had insisted on saved her skin, quite literally. She had added on a time limit that he had to track Hunter down and arrange a meeting. And to Tock’s shock and dismay, whatever elven magic was hiding Hunter’s identity; it was beyond the fairy’s ability to dismantle.

Tock had failed to find Hunter, and the contract expired. Jordan left, at the time feeling a strange mix of disappointment at the failure and gratitude to be still in one piece. As they parted ways, she swore never to come back to his broken place of deals with the devil.

Until today.

“So what brings you here, my lovely little fish?” Tock flipped his coin again, and it sizzled as it disappeared into thin air. “Still trying to find that stubborn elf boyfriend of yours?”

“He was just a friend, and no. I gave up on him years ago.”

Tock frowned, blinking as his eyes turned a bronze color. “Pity. Your skin has only gotten prettier since the last time I saw it… would love to find your price to part with it.”

“…” The memory of Hunter cheerfully making plans to run away with her still hung in her mind. What was it that he had said? “We might lose our clothes and money, but at least we’d have a fun story to tell”? We had no idea what real fairies were like. The ocean’s song in Jordan’s ears was rising, she kept her lips closed to hold back the seductive call of the magic. The fairy noticed her struggle, backing away slightly.

“Fine, fine, no more talk about your skin. Why are you mermaids so sensitive about losing organs?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Mermaids regenerate, right? Or was that trolls?”

“Tock….” The name was forced out between clenched teeth.

The fairy rolled his eyes, changing them to a pure silver color. “So what deal DO you want to make today, my angry mermaid friend?”

She dug through her pocket handing over a silver badge with a handkerchief. Her touch shouldn’t affect his abilities, but Jordan still didn’t want to touch it. It represented something she had tried to move beyond in the last few years, a part of the past that caused her to wake up sobbing some nights, and to stay up drinking others.

Hunter had been her only friend, the only person in this world she thought she could trust. She had learned the hard way how foolish that trust had been. But once she had finally made peace with that fact, he had sent someone to intrude in her life once more. After forcing her to stay out of his battle, he was inviting her to join him, dangling the one thing he knew she couldn’t resist to get her to agree: the existence of other full blood mermaids.

She wasn’t going to play by his rules. If he was expecting her to run back to his side after forcing her away years ago, he would be sorely disappointed. And if she was going to use the clue he had given her, it was for her reasons and no one else’s. Because for everything he had gotten wrong, Hunter had gotten one thing very right:

She did want to find the mermaids in the city.

Not out of any sense of loyalty or need to find others like her, however. She was simply desperate. The instincts to fight and kill, to use her magic to trap and destroy, grew stronger by the day. Soon she was afraid she’d start killing innocent people. She needed to find a way to control it.

Jordan was hoping that other mermaids would know how.

Maybe other mermaids don’t have this problem. She thought at her darkest moments. Maybe I’m just a killer, a monster.

She tried not to think about that to often.

Tock gingerly picked up the badge, his eyes widening with surprise and turning a glowing violet.

“You always have the best things! Let’s see… silver… It was made several years ago… it had other forms years ago… but the owners of those items died quite violently…” He paused, glancing at her curiously. “Your handiwork, I would guess?”

“No comment.”

“Such an unfriendly fish… good thing you have such pretty skin, otherwise I wouldn’t pay you any attention.” He turned back towards the badge in his hand. “It was made with care and love… quite a pure emotion of care… along with a large amount of hope, all mixed in with the silver as it was reformed… it was part of a set?”

“Yes.” She swallowed uncomfortably, pushing back the memories of a young naïve girl, who thought herself hardened and bitter, carefully making a birthday present for her best friend.

“Can I see the other one?”

She thought of the location of the badge she had once treasured. “No.”

Tock pouted. “Fine. It contains quite a few auras, but the strongest one… is quite familiar.” His eyes turned a bright angry red. “Elf!”

“Yeah, it was Hunter’s.”

“That BASTARD! His blasted elf magic forced me to lose my contract with you!” He tossed the badge to the counter with a disgusted grimace. “You’ll never be that perfect combination of desperate and vulnerable again!” He looked back at me. “You are STILL trying to find that elf who dumped you three years ago? And I thought you had standards.”

The ocean song roared in her ears as it sensed her anger, pushing at her control, leaking from her lips. She could feel it swelling beneath her skin, threatening to force itself out. Tock rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Don’t try your battle magic here. You may be quite terrifying to meet in a dark alleyway, but I have some great wards in place.” He sneered as she kept her lips closed tightly. “Just a word of advice: Don’t face off a fairy in his own home.”

Jordan forced her magic down with great struggle, every instinct wanting to lash out. “I don’t want you to find Hunter. I want to know most frequent locations this amulet has been over the past six months.”

“And that’s not the same thing because…”

“Because it’s not him I’m wanting to find.” If he's found mermaids, then the locations he's been, the people he's spoken to... they'll be clues to track them down.

Tock raised an eyebrow. “Then what ARE you trying to find?”

“None of your business. I just need the locations this object has been most frequently.”

“Very well.” His smile became sly, his eyes shifting away from the angry red to a dark blue. “What deal shall we make for me to do this? How about your skin…”

The last word trailed off as Jordan held up a golden coin.

“…”

_________________________________

The silence in the room stretched on, as Tock’s gaze was locked on the object in her hand. His eye color was shifting rapidly, brown, grey, orange, green, before the whole eye filled with color finally turning a solid, glowing silver. His shoulders twitched, and his teeth grew longer in his mouth, the sharp points pressing into his still human appearing lips.

“Where did you get that?” His whisper had lost all of his previous joking tone. There was a small amount of magic woven into his words, a minor compelling spell to force her to speak, and speak truthfully. It buried itself in her ear, making her thoughts foggy. Jordan smiled, shaking her head as the ocean song within her rose in volume, drowning out the fairy magic easily, keeping her mind clear.

“I’ve picked up a lot of things these past few years.”

“ANSWER. THE. QUESTION.”

“No.” Jordan flipped the coin, mimicking the fairy’s earlier actions. “Don’t try your magic on me, fairy. I’ve had too many years of practice ignoring magical compulsions.”

“Fine.” He sighed loudly. “Do you know what it is you have there? Do you know if there’s any more?”

“I’ve heard stories… tales only whispered in dark alleys and in crumbling basements. Do you know in schools here they teach that the humans are the only ones affected by the Darkness? That losing the ability to have children was the be all and end all of the curse?”

“…” Tock kept silent, staring at her. Shrugging, she continued with a mocking smile.

“What a limited view, right? Turns out that everyone lost something to the Darkness. Every single one. It took whatever that species valued most. For humans, such a short-lived, social people, it was taking away the ability to make new generations. But fairies… you are born of magic and air, part of nature and outside of time. Procreation means nothing to you.” She flipped the coin up, letting it spin in the air before catching it and holding it firmly in her hand. “The Darkness took something much more important to you fairies.”

Tock was trembling at her words, unclear if it was with fear or anger. “What do you think the Darkness took from us?”

Jordan glanced at his empty back. “Your wings.”

“…” The fairy’s hands were gripping the counter in front of him. His fingers sank into the wood as easily as if it was made of clay.

“If it were just something to help you fly, I bet you would have simply made do without them. But they represent something much more important, don’t they?” She leaned closer, ignoring his threatening aura. “That’s where fairies store their magic. So now you have the live with the scraps of magic you absorb from the earth and enchanted items, unable to store it within yourself. That’s why you work here, in this pitiful little shop, unable to do more than hide behind these wards and peddle minor magic tricks for favors.”

“Be careful, mermaid…”

“Oh I’m careful enough, Tock.” She opened her hand and stared at the coin in her palm. “No wonder you wanted my skin… how much magic should be stored within it, I wonder. Enough to last you a few years I would think. Which is why this little coin is so important to you.”

“…”

“Fairy gold.” She held it up again. “Quite pretty, actually, looks like the real thing even on close inspection. But if I were to try to spend it… it would expel all the magic stored inside, turning to wood and taking away my lifetime’s luck. An inconvenience for me… but for you?” She grinned. “It stores enough magic for you to live comfortably for quite some time. You could leave this shop, set up protective wards wherever you ended up. Magic enough to stabilize your appearance so your eyes and ears don’t change; let you blend in if you wanted to leave your house for a change. “

“…”

“So what do you say, Tock.” Jordan flipped the coin one last time. “Do we have a deal?”

After a long pause, the fairy spoke up. “… I …”

“TOCK ARE YOU HERE?!!”

The shop door slammed open and a short redheaded young man burst in. As he rushed to the counter, Jordan got a closer look. He was a few inches shorter than her, his leaner frame still obviously muscular. His facial features were handsome, with bright green eyes that glowed with excitement and fiery red hair that was cropped short. He wore regular clothing, a grey t shirt and jeans, and would have seemed very average except for the massive axe strapped to his back.

Who the heck is this?

“Glit, this isn’t the time.” Tock warned, his tone still angry and tense.

“No, Tock, I’ve been thinking about it… maybe I SHOULD be willing to compromise… exactly how much skin would you need to help me find the dwarves?”

The fairy’s eyes glowed an excited gold, his teeth retracting once more as he stabilized his appearance. “Well now…”

“Add his bill to mine.” Jordan interrupted, glaring at Tock. “No skin.”

“But… that’s unfair! We already had a deal!”

“You didn’t accept it in time, so now the deal has changed. “ She shrugged “The price I’m offering is more than enough to cover us both. I would suggest you take the deal before it changes again.”

Tock glared. “FINE! FINE, I ACCEPT!”

The young man turned to her, shocked. She met his gaze, holding back the urge to sigh. Jordan wasn’t much one for random acts of kindness to strangers, but he reminded her of herself a few years ago. Lost, desperate… the only kind of people who can slip past Tock’s wards. She just wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to her interference… annoyance? Gratitude?’

He grinned at her. “You look really strong! Wanna fight?!”

… Well that certainly hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting.

“Maybe later…”

His shoulders slumped. “Dangit. I was losing hope of meeting a strong person in this awful city… no offense if you like it here.”

“None taken, I don’t.”

“I finally meet someone worthy of a good fight, and I make a terrible first impression.” He sighed. “My Ma always did say I needed to work on my introductions.”

“…And you are?”

His eyes widened. “I haven’t told you that yet?” His hand slapped his forehead. “Sorry, must have been distracted by the whole ‘trading my skin’ thing. I’m Glitenaere ni Tolk Vhelarite, firstborn of Marleiun ge Nerturin, the greatest Dwarven warrior alive… but you can call me Glit!”

She looked over the short young man. “You are the greatest warrior?”

“Nope. My Ma.”

“You’re a dwarf?”

“Since I was born.”

Jordan felt curious, having only ever read about dwarves from human textbooks, which said they were a reclusive, unfriendly race.

The reportedly unfriendly, reclusive dwarf was reaching out to shake her hand. “Thanks for the saving my skin, friend!”

She didn’t take his hand. “Shouldn’t you have a beard?”

Tock burst out into laughter, his eyes turning a humorous magenta. “Wow, way to go straight for the gut.”

“Aww, shut up fairy, she didn’t mean anything by it. Can’t blame her for not knowing in a city like this.” Glit leaned against the counter, rubbing his chin with an idle hand. “I’m a darkling, a child born infected by the Darkness.”

“Every race lost something.” Jordan whispered.

“Not everyone was infected, but those who were never grew beards.” He looked sad for a brief moment. “It’s a symbol of strength, of connection to the Earth… everything in our culture revolves around it.”

“What about the women?”

“Oh they grow them too. You should see my Ma. Her beard makes all the boys cry with jealousy.” Glit laughed. “They all thought with her being the strongest and all, her child would be too… but…”

“…Sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry, friend. I’m not weak. I may not have a connection with the earth and a powerful beard, but I’m a force to be reckoned with when I have an axe in my hand!”

Tock looked up, his eyes turning bright white. “You may have to test that out sooner rather than later. We have company.”

BANG! Something slammed into the closed door behind them.

_________________________________

Jordan took a defensive stance, while Glit drew his axe. “Who’s coming?”

“Probably one of those damn purity obsessed groups. They constantly sweep the slums, looking for low bloods and part elves. Usually the wards keep them away, but today, I got a little… distracted. “

“Great. Not really in the mood to deal with these guys, Tock.”

“They bad guys?” Glit spoke up.

“Yep.” Jordan answered softly. “They do horrible things to those who can’t defend themselves.”

“Fair enough. Today they picked on the wrong type of people, though.” Glit grinned. “Let’s kill them!”

His easy acceptance of the violence they would face ahead gave her a little pause. Before she could examine it too closely, the door crashed open, and a large group of men wearing black cloths around the lower halves of their faces rushed in. In their hands were standard pistols, the dull metal glinting off the many lamps of Tock’s shop.

“Looks like we got a haul, boys!” One of them spotted Glit and Jordan, his eyes widening with shock. “That short one definitely can’t be high purity… he’s either a low blood or a dirty elf mix blood! And the other…” He glanced and Jordan and laughed. “A No Blood? Thought they were all gone!”

Glit twirled the massive axe in his hand with ease, looking confused. “Do I look like an elf?”

Jordan thought of the tall quiet young man who had always followed behind her, always trying to avoid violence. “Not even a little.”

“Ah.” He tossed the axe lightly, catching it with the other hand. “Hey fellas, despite your insults and poor eyesight, I’m gonna be nice. Here’s your one chance to run away, before my strong friend and I start slicing you to pieces.”

Even with the majority of his face covered, the disdain on the attacker’s face was evident. “Shut up, dirty elf! Even with your axe, you really think you can face a group with guns?" He snorted, "Now we’re gonna have fun killing you.”

Glit just laughed at the threat. “I was hoping you guys would say that!”

As the group of attackers spread out around the room, he turned to face one side, leaving his back open to Jordan.

Jordan hesitated briefly at Glit’s open back, startled at the gesture of trust, before slowly turning to cover him. She glanced around to see that Tock had disappeared before closing her eyes, calling up the song within her and setting it free.

From her mouth a song of battle rang out. Several of the attackers stopped in their tracks, caught in her illusion, but the rest were only mildly affected, just barely losing their grips on their weapons.

Jordan cursed silently, still singing. Her magic was very effective against small groups of enemies, but the more people it was spread out against, the less useful it would be.

As the song of death spilled constantly from her lips, she felt her nails grow out into claws and moved forward, striking the attackers that were not incapacitated first. From the side she heard Glit run forward, spinning his axe, blood and tissue flying through the air as he cut through enemies.

Blood dripped from her fingers. She heard someone behind her, preparing to strike and turned, grabbing his neck. She felt the water within his heart, and used her magic to stop it in place. His face turned pale, and clutching his chest, he fell to the ground.

Jordan was feeling the drain of her magic. Her vision was turning a bright blue, the song growing in her mind, calling for her to give in completely.

BANG! A shot rang out past her ear, and sensing the danger, the song surged louder in her soul.

Can’t give up all control to my instincts. She thought grimly, slicing the shooter’s face. I might just lose myself completely.

It was hard, fighting against physical enemies while resisting the magical bind of her own blood, but Jordan forced herself forward, grateful for the help of the dwarf beside her. If she had faced all these enemies by herself, she might have lost to the bloodlust within her.

The air was filled with blood and screams.

And then… there was silence.

__________________________________

Jordan’s vision cleared as she forced the song of the ocean down, keeping it tightly controlled within herself. Her nails retracted and she stood in place, staring down at the blood on her hands.

Hunter always said he didn’t want me to be a killer. She closed her eyes briefly with pain. She felt dirty, worthless. Maybe if I wasn’t one he wouldn’t have left me behind.

Lost in her thoughts, she only came out of it as she felt a warm touch on her hands. Shocked, her eyes flew open, only to see Glit pushing a large wet cloth into her grasp.

“Here, friend, you can clean your hands with this.”

She paused, unused to the kindness, but took it anyways. “Thanks.”

“No problem! You’re amazing! That battle song… had magic in it right? Are you not human?”

“Mermaid.” The word came out before she could stop it, and Jordan pressed her lips together, annoyed. He’s a stranger. No need to tell him anything more. She tucked the dirty rag in her pocket, not wanting to give Tock a free sample of her blood.

“Really? I thought they had all disappeared!” Glit’s face lit up. “My Ma always said that the mermaids were the only warriors she wouldn’t want to face up against! That’s awesome!”

She glanced at the dismembered bodies on his side of the room. “You’re not such a bad fighter yourself.”

His smile brightened. “Really? Thanks! Those guys back home thought I was pretty useless, being a Darkling and all, but if a mermaid warrior says so, I’ll trust your opinion!”

“This is all very touching… but what am I supposed to do about the mess you made?” Tock’s annoyed tone caught their attention.

“We fought off your attackers while you hid in the back, fairy.” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You can worry about the mess. You’re lucky we don’t charge you for the service.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Glit crossed his arms, standing at her shoulder, and smiled at Tock, the still bloody axe in his hand making the gesture threatening.

Tock rolled his now yellow eyes. “Fine. While you two were gleefully tearing those idiots to pieces, I finished the tasks you gave me.” He spread a map on the counter, ignoring as the far corner was stained with blood. Jordan recognized it as a map of the city. With a golden pen the fairy circled a few buildings. “Here’s where the amulet has spent the most time in the last six months, in order of most time spent.”

She glanced over at Glit beside her. “And the dwarves?”

“Tougher, since he doesn’t have a possession from the dwarves in question, but…” He picked up a silver marker, and circled one place. “There is a high concentration of earth magic here.”

Glit and Jordan stared at the spot, where silver and gold overlapped.

“Looks like me might be looking for the same place.” She whispered.

“Really? That’s great, friend!” He paused. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Jordan. But I don’t think we’re friends. I don’t trust anyone.” Not anymore.

“Jordan!” He grinned. “Don’t worry, we can still be friends. You don’t have to trust me. I’ll trust you enough for the both of us.”

Tock groaned. “You’re so naïve… why couldn’t you have shown up when the mermaid wasn’t around?! I could have extorted you for so much skin!”

Jordan grabbed the map silently, unsure of how to respond to the dwarf’s enthusiasm.

“If you’re going there, can we go together? I’m looking for a large group of dwarves that disappeared, we think they might be being held captive in the city.”

“…You really shouldn’t trust people so easily.” Her words came out as a pained whisper.

Glit’s face became solemn for the first time since they met. “It’s okay. I’ve grown up in a world that hates me. It’s not been easy, but over the years, I’ve developed a good sense of those around me, and what kind of people they are.”

“And kind of person do you think I am?” She was genuinely curious what the cheerful dwarf thought of her.

“You? Well, you’re someone who cares too much and wishes you wouldn’t. My guess is that you’ve been hurt very badly by someone you trusted… and now you would never wish that same pain on another person.” He shrugged. “So that’s why I trust you. You might kill me if you have to, but you’ll do it facing me. You won’t stab me in the back. You couldn’t bear to do that to someone after what you’ve been through.”

“Interesting opinion.” Jordan felt a strange mixture of despair and relief at his words. “Not put off by me killing men while they’re stunned by magic? That wasn’t just a fight…I’m a killer.”

“Hmm… well, I just chopped up six guys with an axe, and the only reason they didn’t shoot a bunch of holes in me is because of your magic, so I’m pretty sure I can’t judge.” Glit patted her on the back. “Are you looking for mermaids, like I’m looking for dwarves?”

She nodded silently, although silently she thought their reasons for looking were quite different.

“Then let’s go find our people together! You don’t have to trust your back to me, but don’t worry! I’ll defend it anyways.”

“Can you two leave?" Tock rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes flickering between purple and pink. "This touchy feely stuff is bad for my business. What if some desperate fool walks in and is inspired by all your motivational speaking?”

Jordan tossed him the fairy gold, taking back the silver badge she had given him, and turned and left the shop. “Never coming back, Tock.”

“Keep telling yourself that, my fishy friend!” He called back. “You’ll come back. They always do.”

“Okay then! See you later, Tock!” Glit called out as he walked behind her.

“…Actually, I would prefer it if YOU don’t come back. You give me a headache.”

Jordan and Glit left the carnage filled shop behind them

_________________________________

“So mermaids and dwarves being held in the center of the city.” Glit thought out loud. “Some sort of human conspiracy?”

Jordan thought of growing up in the orphanage, the city’s emphasis on having higher purity of mermaid blood rather than human, the complete lack of information on other races. She thought of Hunter and the underground Resistance. Of the Darkness that spread everywhere, touching every species.

Everyone lost something to the darkness, right?

So what did mermaids lose?

... What did I lose?

“There’s something broken about this world, more going on here then we realize.” Jordan answered softly. “But we’re going to figure it out.”

“Together?”

“For now.”

“Awesome!” He pumped a fist in the air. “Wait until I tell my Ma I went on a quest with a mermaid warrior. She’s gonna be so impressed!” He paused. “You two would get along, I think. Strong warrior types and all.”

Jordan sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Why does everyone keep sighing around me?”

“… Let’s go. “

_________________________________

They moved quietly towards the place marked on the map. Glit, surprisingly, activated a hidden mechanism on his axe, folding it into thirds and hiding it in a backpack, and pinned on a “34” badge. He saw her glance at the silver ornament and shrugged. “Snatched this off some guy who tried to mug me when I arrived in town. Most people think I’m just a low purity level student when I’m dressed like this .”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“…” Older than me? Jordan adjusted her mental view of him silently.

“Don’t worry if you thought I was younger.” He raised his hands helplessly. “No beard and the dwarven height tends to confuse people.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries, as long as you don’t think I’m weak and helpless just because I’m shorter than you.”

She thought of him cutting through enemies with his axe. “No chance of that.”

They made they way to the abandoned factory that Tock had marked for them. As they neared the area, Glit pulled out a machine from his bag waving it through the air.

“What’s that?”

“Dwarven machine, it detects the presence of magic.” He frowned. “We need to be careful. This whole place is covered with spells.”

“If this was a human holding place…”

“It shouldn’t have magic.” He finished her thought. “Maybe go up to the roof and enter from there instead?”

They scaled the wall silently, cutting a small hole in the roof with yet another tool from Glit’s bag. As she peered into the building, she felt the ocean’s song start welling up within her.

“There’s danger here. We should go back and regroup.”

“Jordan, look out!” Glit pushed her to the side, wincing as the blow from behind her struck his head instead.

Jordan opened her mouth to release her magic, but before a sound could escape, a hand grasped her arm and magic flooded her body.

“Sleep.” The voice was familiar, but her mind was already falling into darkness.

Jordan woke up on a couch in a dark room. Groaning, she rubbed her head, feeling angry. She knew this feeling, this hung over dizzy sensation. Remembered it too clearly even though she wished she could forget.

“Elven magic.”

Glit groaned from his sprawled position in the corner of the room, his arms and legs tied tightly. The ropes dug into his skin, but he ignored it as he flipped his body into a sitting position on the floor, looking up at her with a sad expression. “Sorry I missed them behind us.”

“It’s fine, thanks for taking that hit for me.” She glanced at the wound on his head, crusted with dried blood, and winced. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a friendly tap. I’ve got a hard head.” He grinned, then looked around. “Real question is, who has us, and why?”

“I have an idea... but I really hope I’m not right.”

“You always did have good instincts, Jordan.”

The familiar voice spoke up from the doorway, Jordan forced herself to sit up on the couch, staring at their captor with a pained expression.

She knew him.

Of course she knew him.

He had set his trap, sent her his badge, knowing she would use it… and she had fallen for it.

The man who haunted her nightmares smiled sadly at her. “Not happy to see me?”

She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Hello again, Hunter.”

[xtinyaurora]

Mafia!Ateez Reaction: Their Y/N is a spy from another gang; part 2

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➼ requested?: yes, but I lost the request

➼ genre: mafia au

➼ pairing: mafia!ateez x neutral!reader

➼ Word-count: 2,1k+

➼ Warnings: nsfw content, strong language, cursing, hints of spanking, abuse, violence, degrading, humiliating, punching, punishments, pet names, death threads / mentions of death, dark themes,...

➼ Note: This is not based on their real behavior or meant to represent real life. This is simply a fan fiction and is only for the purposes of fun, it’s a hobby. Read at your own risk!

➼ A/N note: I don’t know how to feel about this but here you go. Oh and: there’s a tiny bit of fluff and angst included, enjoy!

➼ First part

————————————————————————

Park Seonghwa

Exactly one month has passed since Seonghwa caught you and brought you back. One month since you lost your family and friends. Seonghwa made sure that there were no survivors. Since the day he bought you back, you were locked in the basement, Seonghwa always making sure to give you your daily punishment. You slowly started to belive that he lost all his love for you and wanted you to die as slow and painful as possible. You tried everything to explain why you did what you did, even begging one of his men for help, but it was no use. When night time came around, Seonghwa entered the basement, same expression as usual. When he approached your chained figure, he pulled out a knife. You started to panic, hectically shaking your head. „Pshhh” He placed his left index finger on his lips. Tears started to split out of your eyes. This was it, he is going to kill you. When he went behind your back and grabbed your throat, you closed your eyes, not ready to die. He slowly traced the knife over your neck. The only thing that could be heard were your sobs but then Seonghwas chuckle broke the silence, your eyes opening again. „Dumb pet, did you really think I would kill you? I think I made you learn your lesson, no? Stop crying now, I don’t want your eyes to be puffy when we go out for dinner. Oh and Y/N, better appreciate my tolerance and start learning all the rules I’ve set for you once I bought you back up. Remember, it’s all up to me on how your live looks like. Now let’s go get ready, the car is already waiting.”

Kim Hongjoong

Your body felt sore, head spinning. You tried to reach out for your phone but your hands were tied on the bed. You closed your eyes. When you looked around, there was no sign of your lover. You thought about a way to free yourself but you knew it would be no use. You signed out loudly. You barely remembered the previous night, only knowing that you got beaten. Right at that moment, Hongjoong walked into your shared bedroom, with only a towel covering his lower body. „Good morning.” You didn’t respond, only staring at him. Hongjoong probably didn’t like your silence, that’s why he made his way towards you, angry mode on. „Was all the beating yesterday not enough, do you want me to beat you again?” You shook your head. „I’m sorry. Good morning.” A smile creeped on his face. „Good girl / boy.” He then please a soft kiss on your forehead, starting to talk again. „We will have a talk after the Meeting. Rest for a bit, I know I went a bit too hard on you yesterday but you deserved it. Sorry, doll. One of the maids will come and bring you some food. Be good until I return.”

Jeong Yunho

„Mr. Jeong Yunho, do you promise to be a lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death does you apart?” Yunho smiled. „I do.” Then it was your turn. „And do you Mr. / Mrs. Y/L/N Y/N, promise to be a lawfully wedded wife / husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death does you apart?” You breathed out loudly, nodding your head. „I do.” You felt how Yunhos nervousness wanised away. „You may kiss each other now.” Was the last thing the priest said. Yunho did what he was told, immediately reaching out for you and placing a soft kiss on your lips. After your wedding, both of you made your way straight to his private jet, going on your planned vocation. „Are you exited?” You didn’t hear what he said, lost on your thoughts. „Y/N, I am talking to you.” „Hm?” He shook his head. „This is supposed to be one of the best days in your life but you don’t seem happy. What is wrong?” „I'm fine Yunho, I was just dreaming around.” Silence. „Is it because I killed your family and that they couldn’t come today?“ You slowly turned your head in his direction. „No Yunho, it was me who wanted their death. I wanted to prove my love for you and I am happy now, so don’t worry, baby. It’s just a bit overwhelming, you know, the marriage and stuff.” Your husband smiled at you again, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. „Good. I love you too baby and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Kang Yeosang

He took you down there and gave you a good long punishment. No, he didn’t use any tools, he punched you with his bare hands. Your face and body were bleeding, ass red and marked with his hand print. You cried. Not the fact that you got beaten hurts you more, but the fact that Yeosang himself did it. Never ever in your live did you think that he would pull something like this on you but then you realized, that he wanted to show you how he feels for what you’ve done to him. He wanted to make you feel the same way he feels. You will get over the pain of a punishment like this but you might never get over the pain that your heart is holding, I mean, how could he trust you ever again? There is a chance tho but you have to work hard for that and who knows how long it will take. No matter what it takes, you are ready to do it. At the end of the day, you two love each other, right? „You will never ever pull something like this again, is this clear?” You silently nodded your head. „Good, now get on all fours and follow me around, no matter where I go to. Don’t even think I care about humiliating you, dirty pet. Now let’s go, you don’t wanna disappoint me again, right?”

Choi San

After you two reached his mansion, he pulled you out by your hair and took you straight to his office. All you did was to cry. After watching you for a bit, he approached your kneeling figure and pointing his gun at you. „Was it worth it? To play with my feelings like that. Tell me! What did I do wrong, huh?! I’ve done nothing but love and protect you! You ungrateful whore!” Both of you were crying heavily, Sans head was red out of all the yelling. „Kill me, San. Please, kill me. I deserve it, now hurry.” Sans face went from angry-sad to desperat-sad. He started to cry even harder. „You know that I can’t. Trust me, I do want to kill you for what you’ve done, but fuck, I love you! I hate to love you but I do and I know that there was something between us! I had to be...” He sunk to he knees, both of you looked each other deep in the eyes. „Tell me you love me, Y/N. Tell me that what we had was real, that you do have feelings for me, too. Say that we will always stay together and that we will have a family in the future. Come on, say it!” You couldn’t even breath normally from all the crying but you wanted to tell him that he was right, you needed to. „I love you, San. You’re right, everything I felt for you was real. I do want to live with you until we take our last breath. I want to have a family with you and I just want us both to be more than happy together. I am sorry for all I’ve done, but I had a reason, San. I-“ You were interrupted by your fiancé. He gave you a tight hug, scared of letting you go. „Psh, stop. I will find out why you did but for now I just want to stay with you like this and forget about everything, okay? Just please, please don’t hurt me anymore, Y/N.”

Song Mingi

You knew that when your gang comes and tries to take you back, they will fail and that’s exactly what happened that day. Mingi was way too powerful and way too obsessed over you but you were happy how everything turned out. „You’re not ready yet?” Mingi walked into your shared room, making his way behind you. „Give me two minutes.” He smilingly nodded his head. „Okay. I will wait downstairs.” You nodded your head. He planned this date for a bit now, his behavior being a bit strange. Once you were done, you went down where Mingi was waiting for you. After finishing your dinner at the restaurant, Mingi took your hand in his. „Y/N, today is a really special day for me, well, for us. I want nothing more than to have a future with you, to call you my wife / husband. Baby, I wanna make it official to the whole world now. Therefore I got you this.” He then pulled out a tiny black box. Your heart started to race. When he opened the box, you faced a beautiful diamond ring. Tears started to form in your eyes, one of your hands covering your mouth in shook. So that’s why Mingi was so exited about this dinner. „I-I don’t know what to say.” A chuckle left his mouth. „Well, you have to tell me if you want to become my wife / husband. Not that you have a choice, but I want you to say it out loud, baby.” „Yes, Mingi, I do!” He started smiling as bright as the sun, immediately taking the ring out and putting the ring on your right ring finger. „I love you. Thank you so much for making me the happiest men alive, Y/N.”

Jung Wooyoung

After a few months, Wooyoung was convinced that he trained you into the perfect pet. Honestly, it was hell. He let you starve, he punched you, humiliated you and has done so much more just for you to beg him to kill you. At some point you stopped and thanked him instead. That was it, this was when Wooyoung stopped. „Y/N! Hurry up, we need to leave soon!” Both of you were getting ready for a mission. You needed to leave the country, that’s why you were currently packing your suitcase. You hated the fact that you had no privacy. Wooyoung positioned guards EVERYWHERE around the house. So as you packed your underwear you asked the guard to turn around but he refused. „Come on, I feel uncomfortable with strangers seeing my underwear.” The guard didn’t move nor looked away. You rolled your eyes. „Please?” „I'm sorry Mrs. / Mr. Y/L/N but I am obliged to watch your every step. Mr. Jung would kill me if I let anything happen, no one know what you’re up to. You might carry a dangerous object with you and if Mr. Jung finds out, he will not only kill me but you too. I ask for understanding. For now, you might hurry up a bit, you know how the boss gets when someone’s taking too long for his liking.”

Choi Jongho

You indeed told him everything to the tiniest detail. Jongho believed you but he showed you the cold shoulder. You did understood tho, it just made you sad. As your were taking a shower, strong arms wrapped around your body. You turned your head around, looking directly into Jonghos beautiful brown eyes. He smiled at you. „You were taking too long, I had to come in.” You let out a little chuckle, turning your body around. You both just stared at each other’s eyes. „What’s wrong?” Jongho frowned. „What do you mean, Y/N?” Now you were the one smiling. „Your eyes. They hold some discomfort in them.” Jonghos grip loosened a bit. He didn’t say anything, only staring into your eyes. „Your eyes hold some discomfort too, Y/N.” You then broke the eye contact, looking at his bare chest. „Well, I have a good reason. I mean, not long ago I broke the heart of the most precious and most beautiful men on earth.” Jongho lifted your head up, letting his thumb carry your face softly. „Yea, maybe, but at the same time I killed the family of the most perfect human being of the entire world. To add on, I didn’t took enough research and ended up confronting you with things that you didn’t even do and the worst out of all things; almost killed you, Y/N, so please stop feeling bad because of me. I don’t want those beautiful eyes to hold sadness in them, okay?” Another smiled creeped on your face. „Only if you do the same for me Mr. Choi.” Then, both of you stated to burst out into laugher.