#this was like over a month ago but i have been busy and writers blocked and miserable
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wwillywonka · 4 months ago
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#me when i have a BA in writing and also massive writer's block#i really want to write some tos fic obviously but everything just feels wrong#i guess i'm just intimidated by how much trek fic is out there and how many people have probably done the same ideas far better than me#like i know that's stupid and i should just be free but it's really REALLY getting in my way#i just feel like everything i write is cringe and sounds like smth a 14 yr old would write even though i know i'm a good writer#(again. looks at degree.)#but still#plus i have no inspiration to finish editing heaven on their minds because. well. it's not star trek.#and i'm also applying to grad school right now and have to provide writing samples ofc but all i've written over the last year is fanfic#and i have no ideas for anything original and i don't want to submit smth from over a year ago (from when i was still in school)#because it doesn't represent my writing now#i know i can just revise smth but I Have No Motivation#idk this week has also been so busy so by the time i get home and have time to write i just don't#uuugggghhhh#plus i'm waiting for a job to get back to me about my application and long story short it's been 3 months since i started the application#process and i'm still waiting#i know i'm going to get the job because i know the woman who's hiring me but i have to be approved by the government yadda yadda yadda#whatever dude whateevveerr#brb drowning my sorrows by reading spones fic#my only emotional escape has been wanting to fuck spock and bones i mean what#personal#delete later
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witchofinterest · 8 months ago
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Six Sentence Sunday
tagged by the ever lovely and talented @darknightfrombeyond
taken from my resurrected prison break fic
“"You know, we don't think you're involved, just tell us what you know and you get to go home," the woman in front of her said, looking down from her place in front of the table. The pictures between them made Selena nauseous so she resolved to look straight ahead.
"And where is that exactly?" Selena asked.
The agent looked taken aback at her question, though Selena thought it was a fair one. Where could she go? Her only family were fugitives.”
tagging: @nolanhollogay @come-along-pond @bibaybe @aceyanaheim @water-writings @kentaroranda
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yourmidnightlover · 9 months ago
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forever?
pairing: mob!bucky x reader
summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.
warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!
a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling
pt 2 -> control
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two months out of forever.
two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.
in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 
the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 
you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 
on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 
they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.
so far, he’s been the opposite. 
for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 
because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 
but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 
the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.
the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.
you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.
those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…
you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 
peace.
a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 
but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 
“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 
“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”
you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”
“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 
-
the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 
you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 
you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.
“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 
“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”
“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”
you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 
you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 
luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 
t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 
the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 
“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 
“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”
as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 
“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 
in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 
you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 
you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 
you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 
you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 
“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 
“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.
“i don’t-i’ve got it…”
“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.
“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 
“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”
then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 
“i think he might mind.”
you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 
his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.
“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.
your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 
you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 
your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.
and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 
you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 
“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 
“but the dish-”
“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 
“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.
he won’t hurt you.
he has to protect his image.
you’ve embarrassed him.
you’re his wife.
you’re his business deal.
you’ve humiliated him.
he’ll hurt you.
you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 
your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 
and then there was a knock at the door. 
your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 
he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 
“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.
automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.
“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 
you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 
“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”
“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 
“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 
“you don’t have to-”
“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.
you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 
how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 
“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.
“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.
“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 
sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 
but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 
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pipsyy · 15 days ago
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detestable...
enemies to lovers dom!hamzah x f!reader
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hi everyone! i have had the most absolutely terrible writer's block recently, which is why this fic has taken so long. but i hope you enjoy regardless! please send me reqs if you have them!
summary: y/n absolutely hates hamzah, detests him, actually. until one day, when that undeniable feeling of angers burns into an even hotter flame.
warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUTTING SMUT SMOT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18.
word count: 3066
You loved your life. Your home, your animals, your friends, your youtube channel, everything. There was nothing about your life that irked you. Except for one thing. Him. Hamzah. You had become friends with Mandy over two years ago, over similar interests and styles of youtube channels, and had met Hamzah about six months into your friendship with her. You had never met somebody like him before. You got along with everyone, even if they slightly pissed you off, you were able to stomach their presence and create minimal amounts of respectable small talk. But not with Hamzah. In fact, when you were first invited over to Mandy’s house for a party and heard he was going to be there, you were excited. You had seen his online presence and thought he was funny, charming, and kind, only to find out upon meeting him that the complete opposite was the truth. He was awkward, and weird, and nothing at all like you thought he would be. The two of you were unable to mesh a single comfortable conversation together and, since then, you had effectively avoided him like the plague.
The angry tension between the two of you finally exploded one Friday night. You had been invited to dinner at Mandy’s house, and you were ecstatic. You imagined your night playing out with the two of you cooking and baking delicious food, sharing some with Martin in his man-cave, then diving into the delicacies in front of a cozy fall movie. What you did not expect was Hamzah to be there.
“Hey, y/n!” Mandy said excitedly, as she opened the door and welcomed you into her home. “Are you ready for tonight?”
“Oh my god,” you said, grasping her hands in yours. “You have no idea! I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” You took your shoes off before following the brunette into the kitchen. The two of you were laughing and talking until you stopped dead in the middle of the kitchen, starting out towards the living room. Two male heads were positioned together on the couch, one with straight, almost black, locks and the other with luscious, dark curls. You would recognize those curls anywhere. Shit.
You grabbed Mandy by her forearm and whispered in her ear, “I didn’t know he would be here.”
“Who?” she asked cluelessly, swiveling her head to where your wide-eyed gaze was fixated upon. “Oh, right…Hamzah. Martin and him filmed a video today and he’s not leaving until later. I’m so sorry, y/n. I really tried to get him out of the house, but he insisted on staying for dinner.” You knew that Hamzah liked to rile you up, he made it abundantly clear whenever the two of you would have a conversation.
“He just wants to piss me off,” you responded. “It’s okay. We can just ignore them and have fun.” Mandy smiled at you. The two of you began gathering items and ingredients from around the kitchen to make the dinner. You had decided on making fettuccine alfredo with broccoli and chicken over text with pumpkin cream cheese cupcakes for dessert. The two of you labored over the pasta for almost an hour, laughing and giggling over every single thing. The boys mainly kept to themselves, occasionally laughing softly at the game they were playing on the TV. You paused from stirring the cheesy sauce, simmering softly in the pan.
“You can go ahead and combine this sauce with the pasta, Mandy,” you said, nudging the brunette girl with your elbow. “I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick.” You went to the bathroom down the hall and completed your business, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. As you exited the bathroom, you ran right into a pair of broad, muscular shoulders. You look up, an apology bubbling from your lips, until you meet a pair of wide, dark eyes: Hamzah. His eyes narrow and his brow furrows. Your lips curl into a sneer, the close proximity of him causing hot, red anger to flare in your chest. The two of you attempt to get around each other, moving in sync. This annoying act continued until Hamzah’s large hands grip your waist and practically lifted you up, moving you out of his way. He continued down the hallway to the guest room without looking back, leaving you stunned into silence in the middle of the hallway. Your waist tingled lightly where his hands had touched you. The way his large hands were able to almost completely engulf your waist, followed by how effortlessly he had lifted you, caused inappropriate, unwanted thoughts to flow through your mind. You shook your head, internally scolding yourself for your rash behavior. When you reunited with Mandy in the kitchen, she gave you a confused look.
“You okay?” she asked. No doubt your silent demeanor and red face giving away some of your internal embarrassment.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded, unconvincingly.
“You sure?” she pressed. “I saw Hamzah leave and I just thought–”
“Yes!” you snapped, cutting her off. “I am perfectly fine.” You ran a hand through your hair and Mandy laughed, shaking her head at your idiocy.
“If you say so, girl.” The night continued smoothly once you had calmed yourself down from your strained interaction with Hamzah. The pasta was cheesy and delicious, followed by the brownies which were sweet and rich with chocolate. Mandy shared the brownies with the two boys, Martin full of compliments and praise for the two of you, while Hamzah enjoyed his in silence, glancing at you every so often with a wide-eyed stare that made you feel both uncomfortable and anxious. Throughout the night, Martin and Mandy exchanged coy looks, giggling under their breath at something that seemed to you like an inside joke, but you were unsure. Finally, you reached your breaking point, and blurted out your confusion at the couple’s strange attitude.
“What the hell are you two plotting?” you asked. The couple exchanged a knowing look, smirking at each other.
“Plotting?” Mandy repeated. “We’re not plotting anything.”
“I know you are,” you said. 
To your utter surprise, Hamzah chimed in in agreement. “Yeah,” he said, mouth full of brownie. “You’re both acting so weird. What’s going on?”
Mandy gave Martin another weird look, the two nodding at each other in joint agreement. “Well…” Mandy said. “There’s this movie that Martin and I have been dying to see and it comes out today. We’re going to leave to see it now.”
“And we know that the two of you have some unsettled differences,” Martin chimed in. “So while we go out to see this movie, the two of you are going to stay here and figure them out.”
“Are you serious, Mandy?” you said, exasperation at this situation obvious in your voice. You glanced at Hamzah who had undeniable shock plastered all over his face. “No…” you said, as the couple began to pack up their things and pull their shoes on in quick succession. “No, no, you’re not doing this.”
“We’ll just leave the house, Martin,” Hamzah said.
“We’re locking the two of you in,” the brunette replied. “You’re not getting out this easy. The way you two absolutely despise each other pisses us off. So, you’re both not leaving until you have established some sort of mutual camaraderie or something like it. Understand?” You and Hamzah stood up from the table in protest, but it was too late, Mandy and Martin left the house in sync, locking the door from the outside. The two of you were trapped, together and alone, for an uncomfortable, inestimable amount of hours. You let out a sigh of pure frustration, understanding that the following couple of hours were going to be the most uncomfortable and angry you had felt in a while.
“Well, shit,” Hamzah said, sitting back down and folding his arms across his broad chest.
You rolled your eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous,” you said. “There’s no way I’m doing this.” You get up and pace the wooden floor, head lowered as you think of all the ways you could escape Hamzah and his brown-eyed gaze that you could feel following your every move.
“Oh, come on,” he said, standing up from his seat. He moved in front of you, blocking your path, looking down at you with a facetious smirk that boiled your blood. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, trust me,” you said, maneuvering around the larger man. “It can and it is.” Hamzah reached out, fast as lightning, and grabbed your forearm. The slight touch sent undeniable shivers down your spine, which you hated. He turned you around to face him, the two of you inches from one another. You gazed down at his hand, still wrapped around your forearm.
“Am I really that detestable to you, y/n?” he asked, voice at a decibel so low you had to crane your ears to even hear him. The inches between the two of you began closing, his eyes—so brown they looked black—drawing you closer. Dark, seductive images flitted through your mind: Hamzah’s large hands gripping your waist, his lips on your neck, hands fisting your hair, gripping your throat, touching your cunt. Shocked, you wretch your forearm out of his grasp.
“Yes,” you breathed out, chest heaving, mind reeling from your stupid imagination and wandering mind. “You are that detestable.”
“Really?” Hamzah asked, voice no louder than a whisper. You realized as your back hit the wall that he had backed you into a both physical and mental corner. You gulped as he drew closer and closer. “Because—I think—you like to think of me as something more than just detestable.”
“I don’t like to think of you at all, Hamzah,” you said, skin burning as his dark eyes remained locked on yours, unyielding in their direct gaze.
“You don’t?” he said, scoffing. He leaned closer, lips practically brushing yours. His large hands maneuver to grip your waist, and you don’t even try to stop him. “Not at all, huh. Not even at night, when you’re alone in your bed.” His grip on your waist tightened and shockwaves of undeniable pleasure flash through your spine like needles. “Cause I do. All the fucking time.” You look up at him, eyes widened in shock. He curses, the grip on your waist tightening so hard you thought it would bruise. “Don’t,” he said, voice rough and gravely. “Don’t fucking look at me like that…or I’m going to do something we both will regret.”
You had never expected to feel this way about Hamzah. But seeing him—a man so stupid and narcissistic and haughty—reduced to this…reduced to a quivering mess of a man with needy desperation written all over him, you felt that you couldn’t help yourself. You whimpered as your core tightened. Your back brushed the wall and Hamzah leaned impossibly closer, chest brushing against your own.
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want this.” You froze, the repeated words brushing your lips, bubbling up inside you. But you couldn’t lie. You couldn’t say them. For deep down inside you, in a place you had buried since you got to know him, lay the dirty, red-hot truth. You wanted him too, equally as bad. Your shaking hands, puppeteered not by your brain, but by that stupid feeling deep in your heart, reached up to intertwine behind Hamzah’s neck, grasping at the delicate curls at his nape. Hamzah’s eyes widened at the realization that you weren’t backing away.
“I can’t,” you confessed. Hamzah, lips quivering with desire, leaned closer, brushing your soft and plush mouth with his own. Unable to contain your palpitating desire, you tightened your grip on his curls and pulled him into you, pressing your lips violently together. Your lips locked together, a wet mess of tongue and spit as you desperately clung to each other. Hamzah’s hands ran up and down your body, unsure of what part of you he wanted to touch first, desperate for everything, all at once. He separated from your lips, and you let out a needy, unfiltered whine at the lack of contact. Hamzah began kissing down your neck, suckling on that sweet spot behind your ear that made you cry out in pleasure.
“You have no idea,” he whispered, in between open-mouthed kisses planted on your neck. “You have no fucking idea what you do to me.” You whimpered at the blunt confession, hands yanking at his curls. His hands grabbed at your ass, lifting you up effortlessly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Hamzah roughly pushed you up against the wall, lips connecting with your own again. You yanked at his t-shirt and he paused his motions, pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room. You came face-to-face with his body, ribbed and muscular from his time in the gym, while also maintaining enough tummy to make your thighs squeeze together. You mirror his movements, pulling your tanktop off and shucking your sweats down your legs, leaving you in your bra and underwear. Hamzah looks at you starstruck.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, reaching to grasp at your covered tits. “You’re even prettier than I imagined.” You giggled slightly, a gesture that never occurred to you would happen with Hamzah. Hamzah sunk down to his knees, leaving little kisses along your stomach and the underside of your tits. Kissing and biting your inner thighs, he dragged your underwear down your legs, mouth agape as you came face-to-face with your soaking cunt. He looked up at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated, and you felt your knees weaken. Hamzah grabbed one of your thighs after the other, wrapping your legs around his shoulders practically sitting on him, leaning against the wall. He continued to leave little kisses along your legs, suckling purple bruises onto your inner thighs.
“Hamzah–” you whine, tightening your grip in his curls.
“Use your words, y/n,” he said, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes.
“I need you,” you say, your desperation overwhelming your embarrassment and confusion. Hamzah smirked up at you, before shoving his head deep between your thighs. He licked a long strip up your folds, holding eye contact with you, before circling his tongue around your clit. As his tongue connected with your sensitive bud, you let out a long moan, head tilting back against the wall. Hamzah ate you out like it was his last meal, licking, sucking, and slurping your juices in a constant state of desperation for more. You felt yourself coming closer and closer to your climax, hands tightening his hair as his nose rubbed deep into your clit. You came with a cry, legs shaking around his head as you shuddered and convulsed, white spots bedazzling your vision.
Hamzah lifted you up, wrapping your legs back around his waist and kissed you, mouth stained with your juices. You tasted yourself on his tongue and moaned at the feel of his tongue poking its way into your mouth.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he whispered. “You have no idea how bad I wanted you.”
“Hamzah—” you panted. “I need you inside of me.” He reached down into his pants, pulling out his hard member, stroking it a few times before rubbing it up and down your wet folds. He slid into you with a gasp, the two of you moaning at the feel of him sheathed inside of you. He began slowly thrusting in and out of you, the stretch of his thick cock inside your cunt drawing whimpers from deep in your throat. While your eyes rolled back into your head from the pleasure, Hamzah never broke eye contact.
“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” he said. “You hate me, huh?”
You whimper in response.
“Yeah, you hate me…but you’re still here, being fucked by this cock, huh?” You couldn’t respond, the only sound flowing from you being heady whines and high-pitched moans. You felt yourself inching closer towards another release, one of your hands reaching between your legs to rub your clit. One of Hamzah’s hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly, you realized with a jolt that he was holding you up with one hand. The fact that this man could hold you up and fuck you so good with just the strength of one arm made your core tighten.
“I–I’m gonna cum, Hamzah,” you manage to cry out, dangerously tipping on the precipice of release.
“Oh, yeah?” Hamzah responded breathlessly. “You gonna cum, baby? Shit. Cum for me, pretty girl.” You cum with a strangled yelp falling from your lips. 
“Good girl,” Hamzah moaned out, hips beginning to stutter. “Good girl, so pretty, so fucking pretty for me.” Your hands grabbed onto his curls tightly, yanking as you came down from your high. The feel of his dark strands being pulled so tightly sent Hamzah over the edge. Hips stuttering as he came, head buried deep into your neck, he let out a flurry of whimpers and praises. The two of you sat there for a minute, Hamzah breathing heavily into your neck. Just then, you heard the jangle and clank of keys outside of the door. Hamzah’s eyes locked onto yours, wide with shock and fear.
“Shit,” you say. Untangling your limbs, the two of you rushed to dress in five seconds flat. You threw yourselves onto the couch, sitting on opposite ends just as Mandy and Martin opened the door and returned.
“The cinema was closed, guys,” Martin announced as he took off his coat and boots, Mandy close behind him. “Did you at least make up though?”
“Yeah, we did,” Hamzah responded, voice still rough and breathless. The couple finally came into your view, cheeks and ears red from the outside wind. You knew that the two of you were a strange sight: clothes rumpled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and something dirtier. You also knew that, ever the observer, it would be Mandy to notice.
“Oh my god!” she said, covering her shocked face with a hand. “OH MY GOD, MARTIN!” She yanked on his sleeve, jumping up and down.
“What?!” he asked. “I don’t get it.”
“They fucked, holy shit, they fucked,” she laughed and giggled, jumping up and down with glee. “You owe me a hundred dollars, Martin.”
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laughing-with-god · 1 year ago
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These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)
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Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.
16.5k
Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol
Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.
-----
He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.
It was foul…
It was taboo…
It was…..
Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.
Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.
Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.
There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.
That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.
Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.
You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?
You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.
Writer’s block was a bitch.
Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.
Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.
You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.
‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.
When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.
Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.
When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.
The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.
Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.
He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.
Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.
The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.
You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”
Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.
You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.
“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”
It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.
He then turned to face the window again.
You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.
Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.
You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”
You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.
The front door was opening.
Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.
The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.
His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.
“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”
Time stood still.
Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.
Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.
The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.
There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.
No one can be in two places at once.
What the fuck was going on?
You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.
Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.
“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.
“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.
“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”
You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”
Your boyfriend’s face dropped.
“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”
You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”
“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.
Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”
Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”
You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.
Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.
“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”
He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”
“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”
Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”
“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.
“Which isn’t possible!”
“Go look then!” You relented.
Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.
He found no such person.
It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.
“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”
You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”
“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”
You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”
Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”
That was the first incident.
— Dinner that night was a tense affair.
At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.
He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.
Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.
Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.
Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.
And just like that your first couple fight was over.
Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.
You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.
You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.
You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.
And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?
It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.
You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.
It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.
– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.
I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.
Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.
Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.
Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.
You and Taehyung have been off too.
There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.
Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.
Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.
Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.
Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.
You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.
You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.
Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.
Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.
Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?
You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.
You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.
He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”
You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”
“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”
You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.
He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”
“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”
Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”
You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.
Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.
Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.
You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.
It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.
You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.
“What’s that?”
He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”
You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”
Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.
“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”
“For what?”
He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”
You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”
“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”
A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”
Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”
You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.
You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.
“What did you put in this?”
“Oh just some cinnamon and-”
“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.
“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.
“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”
Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”
“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”
“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.
“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.
Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”
“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”
Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”
“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”
His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”
You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.
You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.
Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.
You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.
“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.
“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.
You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.
Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.
A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.
Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(
Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.
That was the second incident.
“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”
The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”
You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.
“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.
You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.
Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”
“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”
“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.
“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”
She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”
Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”
“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.
“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.
“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.
“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”
You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”
“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”
“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”
“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”
“Yes.”
A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”
“None.”
“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.
You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”
“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”
“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.
“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.
“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.
“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!
The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.
A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”
The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.
The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”
The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”
The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”
“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.
“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.
The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.
While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.
Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.
Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.
You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.
Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.
Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.
The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.
The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.
He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”
You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”
“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”
You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”
“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.
The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.
You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”
Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”
You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”
“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.
You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.
You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.
Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”
You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”
“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.
The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.
You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.
Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.
His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.
As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.
A tug at your clothes.
Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”
Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.
It sounded like a…bang?
From somewhere deep within the house.
It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.
Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.
“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.
You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.
Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.
But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.
This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.
Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.
But nothing ever came.
Your worry grew tenfold.
The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.
‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’
Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’
At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.
Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.
“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.
“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?
You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.
Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.
The easel held a half-done canvas.
It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.
It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.
It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.
If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.
“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.
You didn’t even know what to say.
All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.
It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.
Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.
You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.
Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.
“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”
You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”
Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”
“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.
He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.
Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.
You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.
But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.
Then, he spoke.
“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”
It wasn’t a question.
He knew.
He believed you now.
It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.
You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.
Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.
You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.
Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.
You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.
Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.
Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.
Your boyfriend was understandably furious.
For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.
You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.
One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.
“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.
You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”
The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.
“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”
“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.
“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”
“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”
“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”
“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”
You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”
Taehyung didn’t say anything.
It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.
Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.
Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.
Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.
You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.
Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.
No one was there.
When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.
A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.
Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.
It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.
The sage didn’t work.
Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.
Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.
Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.
The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.
You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.
“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.
He followed you wordlessly to the car.
The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.
You both were still angry at each other.
Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.
The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.
You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.
If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.
You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.
He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.
“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.
“Fine. What do you want me to get?”
“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible
He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.
You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.
“Y/n?”
The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.
No way.
It can’t be…
You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.
Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.
“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”
You managed a wry smile.
Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.
But hey, who was counting?
“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”
The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.
“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”
You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”
He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.
“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”
Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”
“Y/n.”
A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.
Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.
“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.
You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.
“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”
The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.
A pregnant pause hung in the air.
“So…how long have you two been together?”
Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.
“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.
“Oh, um, this is Molly.”
“His girlfriend! And you two are?”
“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”
“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.
Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.
“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”
“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”
“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”
You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.
From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.
Even, right?
Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.
You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.
When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.
The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.
You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.
Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.
Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.
You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.
“What is it?”
Taehyung didn’t answer.
You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.
It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.
“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”
If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.
The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.
Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.
Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.
“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”
You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.
“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”
“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”
Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.
You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”
She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”
“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”
At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”
“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”
You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.
Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.
Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.
If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.
You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.
“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.
You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.
Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.
Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.
Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”
You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.
“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.
Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”
You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.
You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.
It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.
But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.
And it was almost as if Jimin never left.
You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.
“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.
Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”
“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”
“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.
You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.
Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.
You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.
Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”
Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.
When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.
“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”
“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.
“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.
“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”
She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”
You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.
“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”
“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.
A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.
Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.
– The clock was nearing midnight.
Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.
Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.
“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”
“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”
“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”
“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.
Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.
You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”
Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.
“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.
You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.
Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.
“Yes, handsome?”
His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”
“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”
He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”
“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”
He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.
Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”
You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”
“Damn, trouble in paradise?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”
“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”
You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.
When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.
“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.
“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”
“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”
He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”
“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.
She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.
He blushed, “Thank you.”
“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”
Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”
You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.
You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.
Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.
Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.
Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.
Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.
And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.
The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.
When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.
Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.
A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.
Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.
The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”
Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.
The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.
“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”
“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”
Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.
“Ghost?” Jin laughed.
“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.
“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.
At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.
“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”
Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”
Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.
An awkward silence.
“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”
She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.
“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”
She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.
“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”
A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.
“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.
Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”
You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.
But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.
If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.
Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.
Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.
You felt even more cold.
“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.
You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.
You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.
“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.
Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.
You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”
“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.
The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”
Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.
Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”
Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”
“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.
The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.
Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”
You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”
He tiled your head to make you face him.
Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.
It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.
You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.
You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.
Black and white, really.
‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.
“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.
“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.
The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”
“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.
You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”
He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.
You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”
That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.
With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.
Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“So….”
“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.
Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”
You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”
“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”
You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.
It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.
“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”
“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”
“I broke up with Molly.”
“…What?”
“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.
You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.
He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”
“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”
“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”
You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”
“No.”
You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.
How did he get there without being spotted or heard?
It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.
“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”
Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”
“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”
“Please, Taehyung-”
You were cut off.
His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”
The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.
In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.
No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.
You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.
Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.
And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.
How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?
“Hey what’s going on here?”
Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.
You felt your body lighten in relief.
Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.
Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”
Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”
Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.
He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.
“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.
Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.
What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!
Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?
You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.
If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.
Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.
About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.
You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.
Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.
“So…that got a little out of hand.”
You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."
“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”
“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”
“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”
A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”
You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.
“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”
“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.
He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”
“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”
“Done.”
“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”
He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”
“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”
His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”
You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”
“…anything else?”
“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”
He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.
Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.
Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?
If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…
Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.
You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?
Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.
You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.
A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.
“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”
He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.
“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”
You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight baby.”
“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.
You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.
Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.
Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.
The light under the basement door…it was on?
“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”
It couldn’t be….could it?
Your intuition was hollering at you from within.
A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.
Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…
And choked back a horrified scream.
At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.
Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.
It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.
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So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)
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felixbit · 4 months ago
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i like it
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pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader w. 2k genre: drama, a mix of fluff + angst summary: you've been in a situationship with hyunjin for almost six months. while he's taking you out, you decide it's time to make or break what you have with the goal of becoming official. warnings: none a/n: i was in a writer's block for like two months, but the album seems to have broken it?? stream ate for good luck (and there will likely not be a part 2 to this)
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Six months of back and forth has been driving you crazy.
You'd met a guy that changed your life. He was everything you'd ever wanted: gorgeous, talented, somewhat wealthy, and a kind soul. He was passionate, driven, and everything else that made you want to be his. This was Hyunjin.
The only problem was: Hyunjin struggled with commitment.
He'd take you out on fancy dinners, dates, drop a grand on a shopping trip, but couldn't bring himself to make it official. He sent you flowers, good morning texts, random food orders to your place whenever you mentioned you were hungry over text. But it was 'casual'.
You decided to play his game, give him time to open up. You'd learned that he'd been in a long-term yet rocky relationship that had only ended three months before you met. Of course you wanted to give him time to heal. You wanted him to come to you when he was ready.
He never did. He'd spend all day in your apartment, taking a day off work just to see you. He'd hold you and kiss you until the sun fell and rose again. You would wake up to breakfast in bed served with a side of kisses and little love notes. But, he was instantly avoidant when it came to you asking if he was ready.
So, you were in a weird relationship purgatory. He'd give you everything but a title in his life, and that's all you ever needed with him. The internet seemed to deem it a 'situationship', but it was another label that Hyunjin would likely avoid.
The thought was eating you up inside. Three weeks ago, you drafted up an ultimatum confrontation text to send him. It turned to collecting dust whenever you pasted it into messages and immediately deleted it. Hyunjin was amazing, even with his faults. Could you stand to lose him over wanting to be his?
You sat on the couch that Hyunjin had bought you two months ago, plagued with thoughts about him all morning. He'd been busy almost the entire week, which would throw a wrench into any potential plans. His work was demanding at times and you knew how committed he was to it.
When you finished making breakfast, you ate it while listening to a playlist Hyunjin had sent. He had a good ear for music, especially picking out songs you'd like. He'd started a habit of making you a playlist at the start of every month and you'd listen religiously.
Just as you were finishing up, your phone vibrate and fished it from your pocket. Looking down at the screen, your heart skipped a beat and a smile immediately rushed onto your face.
hyunjin: good morning!!
This was everyday routine. If you didn't wake up to a classic 'good morning' text, you'd get one before the clock ticked over to PM. Sometimes he'd admit he forgot to right when he woke up, but he was pretty good at staying consistent on his timing.
y/n: good morning hyunjinnie :)
That damn nickname. You'd called him a plethora of nicknames since you first started seeing each other, and it was making it infinitely harder to find it casual. The worst part was that he liked them. He encouraged you to use more.
hyunjin: sleep well? y/n: i did, just ate some breakfast hyunjin: yum! y/n: how's your morning been so far hyunjin: perfect now that i'm talking to you
Seeing that text made your heart tug and caused a small outburst on a nearby pillow. It didn't deserve to be hit so many times, but you couldn't contain the cuteness aggression. Also, a little bit of frustration.
y/n: stop itttt!!! making me blush hyunjin: that's my charm y/n: your charm is looking like a cute ferret hyunjin: oh yeah?
Just as you sent the message, you scrolled through your phone for a few photos you had saved of ferrets the night before. Selecting a few and pressing send, the two of you delved into a discussion on his ferret-like looks.
Turns out, he could carry a conversation talking about what animals you both looked like the most for longer than expected. By the time you realized how long you'd been at it, it had almost been half an hour.
y/n: wait. aren't you supposed to be at work by now?? not texting me about ferrets hyunjin: oh yeah, about that hyunjin: i took today off, was thinking we could spend some time together and go out
This was strange, to say the least. Hyunjin was normally quite engrossed in making sure his work was finished. A few months back, you had to convince him to call out of work when he had a high fever and could hardly stand up from his bed.
y/n: what's gotten into you so suddenly hyunjin: what do you mean? y/n: you? hwang hyunjin? calling out of work for me? hyunjin: well of course, why wouldn't i y/n: idk
It took a few tries of writing out variants of 'you're not my boyfriend' before settling on the text you sent. Such official behaviors by a man so scared of labels drove you mad. It was almost perfect, almost.
hyunjin: talk to me y/n: later, okay? hyunjin: how about when i take you out then? y/n: sure
Being so bland over text made a pain swell up in your chest. You wanted to be open and honest with him, but pushing him past his limits had grown to be a massive fear in your mind. The harder part would be figuring out what to say.
Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to tell him. You'd found Hyunjin to be one of the most understanding people to walk to earth. The last time you'd pushed at all for labels was almost three months ago and you'd given up since.
What was there to say, anyways? 'I want you to be my boyfriend or I'll explode'? It was certainly accurate to how your mind had made it seem. The idea of being exclusive with Hyunjin was exhilarating but terrifying.
hyunjin: can i come get you in an hour? y/n: yes
You turned your phone off and set it face-down, sighing and looking at the ceiling. The uncertainty was building, but you had made a decision: it was time to ask. You couldn't keep dancing around the issue. You had serious feelings for him.
So, you kept checking the time as it grew closer and closer to when Hyunjin would come get you. With thirty minutes left, you were already dressed and finishing getting ready. Your heart raced at the thought of him.
The minutes dragged on, but the time finally came. Feeling a ringing buzz in your pocket, you saw his name and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" His voice came from the other end of the line.
You slightly smiled at the sound of him, but responded. "Hey. Are you outside?"
"Yeah, you can come down now, if you're ready."
"Alright, I'll see you in a minute."
Hanging up the call, you composed yourself to the best of your ability and headed down towards him. The wait as you took the elevator was tense, but the second you stepped out of the building and saw him everything else fell away.
Every time you saw him, it was like the first time all over again. His long, black hair and defined features had your heart in a twist. You approached him with a smile on your face, and one matching on his own. He pulled you into a tight hug, smelling his perfume.
"Hey," He said, his voice muffled into your shirt, "How's your day been?"
You pulled away and smiled at him, taking his hand in your own, "I've been okay, missing you like I always do."
Hyunjin chuckled, reaching his free hand up and stroking your cheek softly. "I've missed you, too. That's really why I called out today."
"You missed me that much?"
"Of course."
Before you could bring anything else up, he was calling you over to his car. He had a cafe he planned on showing you, telling you a bit about it as he began to drive towards it. The whole way, you caught him sneaking glances over at you from the driver's seat.
When he pulled into the parking lot outside of the cafe, he opened your door for you and walked you inside, his fingers laced with yours. He read over the menu with you, pointing out a few things that sounded good to him and a few he thought you'd like.
You picked out an order and he was quick to get to the register, paying for both of you without a second thought. You found a table as he waited and brought you drinks, sitting down right opposite you.
"So," He said with a sigh as he took a sip of his drink, "I was worried about you this morning."
"Worried?" You looked at him slightly puzzled, "What would you have to be worried about?"
"You were just.. distant. I could tell when you suddenly texted differently, and I was scared I said something to upset you."
"Oh." You looked up from your drink at him, seeing the way his eyes gazed back fondly into yours. This was the opportunity, if there ever was any.
You took another long drink and took a breath to stabilize. "Hyunjin, I've been thinking about us. I guess I first have to ask you, what are we?"
Hyunjin frowned slightly and you watched his hands fidget on top of the table. "That's.. not an easy question to answer. You're an amazing person I like to be around all the time. That's all I know."
You felt your heartstrings pull. "Hyunjin, I want more than that. I'm done with just being someone you hang out with and buy all sorts of things. I really like being around you, and I really like you. But I can't keep pretending we're dating in my head when we aren't."
Hyunjin looked at you silently, his expression utterly unreadable. His eyes were slightly widened, and you could only see his uncertainty.
You continued, "I can't do this constant push-and-pull, Jinnie. I want to be yours, and if I can't be that then I need to move on and save my own feelings. I'm sorry."
With that, you set your own hands on the table across from his, looking at him. He sat for almost thirty seconds without speaking, looking down at the table and then back up at you.
"I.. don't really know what to say."
You held your breath, but he continued on after a second of silence. "I've been unfair to you, I know. With my last relationship, I had so many doubts and fears.. I was just so comfortable in having us. I didn't want to worry about labels.
"I never realized that's not really what you wanted. It's not your fault that I didn't. So, don't say sorry. I'm sorry. I can't lie and say it's not a bit scary to say, but I like you too. A lot. So much it made me stupid. So I'll be yours. If you'll have me."
You couldn't contain the smile that spread out onto your face, and his followed. He reached across the table and took your hand in his, and you couldn't help but feel like crying. "Hyunjin.."
"Please be mine. I swear, I'll be a better boyfriend than I was a weird situationship."
You nodded vigorously. "Of course I'll have you," You said through a choked-up laugh, "Do you know how many times I almost introduced you to my friends as my boyfriend?"
He grinned and shrugged. "Well, now you can! I just.. I wanted to take it slow, but I guess I didn't stop to ask you how you were feeling after we first decided that."
You stood up from the table and he did as well, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you for putting up with me," Hyunjin's voice shook slightly, "And letting me be your boyfriend."
You pulled away from the hug and nodded. "Thank you for understanding when I said something. And, you know, being my boyfriend."
Hyunjin snickered softly and pulled you into a kiss. Maybe it wasn't so bad, after all.
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mikaleialt · 1 year ago
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Ride It!| Bada Lee
Bada Lee x Reader
Fluff, suggestive, smut, drabble
Synopsis: In a random instagram live, your newly found fans after SWF 2, started asking you random questions about what do you think of each team leaders. For a quick background, you are one of the team leaders in SWF 2, but sadly your team got eliminated after the Crew Battle Mission, after getting defeated by Mannequeen on the elimination round along with Wolf'lo and Lady Bounce.
C/w: based off of this post by @westwoodsvivi. Honestly I just wrote this to finally end my writer's block as I have been gone for more than a month now.
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Street Woman Fighter 2 is finally over and although your team didn't make it to the top 4, you still continued to support the other teams until the end, especially when the winner of SWF 2 is the team leaded by your girlfriend.
And now here you are, preparing for the On the Stage concert. All of the teams are in one place again, practicing the dance routines they've performed during SWF 2.
You were finally on break and some of the dancers of each team started goofing around with each other, filming tiktok dances together with Redy who seem to just stand in the background of every video. You laugh at how Redy looks like a lost child standing behind Che Che, Debby, and Yoonji as the trio dance.
Bored in your own world you decided to set up your phone as you sat in the corner of the studio, and finally hit the 'Go live' button after getting permission from the staffs who told you that it is fine as long as you don't spoil anything about the concert.
Viewers immediately flooded the comments and you tried your best to greet everyone. The viewer count goes up by the second.
"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii 🤎"
"OMG Y/NNNNN 🥹"
"Hi from 🇦🇱"
"Ano ba tayo, Y/n 😩 (what are we, Y/n)"
You read each comments from fans greeting you, to trying to make you say a phrase in their language, to asking you how you have been.
"I'm doing good, as you all know, we're preparing for the upcoming concert. We're actually on a break right now and everyone is doing their own thing. And here I am, in my own space." You picked up your camera as you show the empty dance practice room that you are in right now.
"Honestly, I got bored during our break so I went live" you chuckled. "Everyone has been really busy these days, and I miss talking to you guys." You sent the viewers a flying kiss, which made the comment section go wild.
"AAAAAAHHHH"
"EXCUSE ME⁉️⁉️"
"THAT KISS WAS DEFINITELY FOR ME"
You immediately got embarrassed as you are not used to giving out fan service or acting cute for other people. You give it a few seconds for the fans to finally calm down once again.
"Hmm, there's still much time until we go back to practicing again, what should I do? What do you guys think?" You read the comments once again as each viewers suggest something for you to do. After a few more minutes you finally settled to do a Q and A.
"What is today's TMI?" You read one of the comments as you ponder to yourself what could you share to your viewers . "Hmm, today I arrived at the studio crying because I was watching that one video of that kid from My Golden Kid." You giggled. "It was a very sad clip, I was crying the whole time while I was on my way here."
A few more question pops up after that and you tried your best to answer each one. "Who do you find attractive among the SWF 2 leaders?" You read another question.
"Me, of course" you flip your hair sassily before laughing to yourself. "No, in all honesty, it's gotta be Kirsten or Bada. They're both really charismatic." You answered.
"What part of them do you find attractive?" You read the follow up question.
"For Kirsten, it's probably her hips. I'm not gonna lie, when I saw Kirsten dance for the first time, my whole attention was on her hips..." you shyly admit to your viewers.
"...as for Bada... I really like her nose" you said without any explanation as memories from a few nights ago came back to you.
♡⑅*˖•. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .•˖*⑅♡
"A-ahh Bada" your breath staggers as you move your hips, grinding your wet core on your girlfriend's face.
It was the night after BEBE won SWF 2 and you told Bada that you'll do whatever she asks for if they win, which leads you to the situation that you are in right now.
Bada's only wish from you as a reward is for you to sit on her face as she eats you out, which you did without any hesitation.
"That's it ride my face, baby" Bada speak against your pussy as she continues to eat it like a starved man.
You couldn't help but moan louder as your clit presses on the tip of Bada's nose. You continue to grind your puffy clit against it, each movement makes you shiver, as your girlfriend's tongue fucks your cunt relentlessly.
"I-I'm gonna—hah" your eyes roll to the back of your head as the pleasure in your stomach builds up. "Yeah that's it, come for me baby" Bada said as she continues to eat you out.
Soon, a loud moan escapes from your lips as you finally had your release. Your legs were shaking as Bada continues to lap up your juices, each movement of her head under you, the tip of her nose touches your clit.
"So good to me baby, can you give me one more?" Bada sucks on your clit before diving back again into fucking your cunt with her tongue...
♡⑅*˖•. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .•˖*⑅♡
"Ok let's get back to work" Funky Y announces as she enters the room which snaps you back to reality.
"So yeah anyway, that would be all. See you at the On the Stage concert everyone. Byeeee" You immediately pressed the 'End live' button, before putting down your phone.
"Oh Y/n, so you're here all along" The rest of the dancers enter the room one by one.
"Unnie, why is your face so red?" Sowoen pointed out your face. To which made you turn red even more. The whole time you are reminiscing about that night, you were blushing like crazy.
"It's nothing, I was just feeling hot." You excused yourself, but little do you know, a certain someone was actually watching your live earlier.
Bada approached you as she whispers something to your ears.
"So you like me nose huh, why don't you ride my face again once we got home?"
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A/n: it's been a while omg, I missed writing. I'm slowly regaining my motivation to write again finally!!! I hope you like it, sorry if its not as good as you guys thought it would be. This is just a quick drabble to finally break my writer's block, I did not proofread this.
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greycaelum · 6 months ago
Note
Hi Grey! How was ur week? Question for Yakuza Satoru: he got tattoos, but what kind and where? This series fits Gojo-Zenin rivalry so well. Can totally see Naoya being crazy jealous of Satoru, to the point of dying…
So late reply, forgive this tardy woman! Just finished 2 sems in uni and now I still have to do summer but it's manageable so here I am again Quite rusty if I must say, writer's block at its finest...
Thank you for your interest in Coasts and Altitudes, fingers crossed on the next update! With lots of hugs from Grey~
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[Pic link] CTTO
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"Did it hurt...?" Your eyes flickered as you stared at the elaborate irezumi painting on his broad back, it covered a few old scars, scabs of rose pink peaking a bit on the spaces between the vivid inks, obscuring but not totally hiding the gashes from your sight.
"Mnnn?" Your husband looked back as he searched for a shirt in the closet. he's only wearing cotton shorts and a towel over his shoulder, walking topless around your home since the staff were out for the weekend except for some of his subordinates guarding the perimeter of the house. You've been married for already a month, but still, it's hard to remain focused every time he goes around naked.
"The irezumi... did it hurt?" You bit the insides of your mouth when he faced you with his inked pecs and hard 8-packs distracting your sight. He remained unbeknownst or probably playing clueless as he walked towards you and asked you to dry his hair.
"Not really, I got used to the pain." He shrugged as you kneeled on the bedside behind him and ruffled his hair with the towel. For a man depicted as rough and the violent shady business he deals with daily, Satoru has a penchant of asking you to do domestic and mundane stuff for him.
Your hands stopped drying his hair as you slowly traced the ink much to his amusement.
"What's wrong, princess?" He purrs.
You couldn't answer as you stared at the dragon holding the close lotus form. This oriental dragon represents strength combined with wisdom and usually is benevolent, a protector against those who might usurp control... yet somehow, countless flowers scattered around the dragon, you couldn't quite understand it... not to mention Satoru's chest is still not inked.
"What does your irezumi mean? I can't understand it..." You've seen many irezumi from your father's men, all of them are unique but you've never seen anything compare to Satoru's.
Satoru looked back at you, mirth swirling in his bright eyes, but seeing you can't meet his gaze with how fixated you are in his back he face front to let you stare at his irezumi for now. He opened his mouth, thinking of how to start.
"I wanted to have a Karashishi beast instead of the Ryu, but the person I wanted to protect left... and I need to guard my family's so I chose the dragon..."
You couldn't speak... you already know what he means.
"This peony..." You looked at the lonesome peony on his top left shoulder. "It suits you, wealth and prosperity with your devil-may-care attitude." You swallowed the awkward reply on the tip of your tongue and tried to hide your hesitant tone.
"I couldn't think of anything more to remember you so I chose the Sakura, thinking I needed to remind myself I was just a fleeting moment of your childhood. I would just stay here, protecting my family or else I would've come running after you like a lap dog... I would've begged you to spare attention to me, I don't have a good sense of self control when it's about you."
A fleeting moment of childhood, huh? Your fingers traced the cherry blossoms littered over the dragon. And whose fault was it for pushing you away years ago saying he can only see you as a younger sister? You scoffed and curled your nails on the biggest cherry blossom making him groan.
Satoru turns around and pushes you down the bed, the mattress cushioning you as he plants his arms on the sides of your head. Climbing on top of you as he pushes away the stray hair framing your eyes.
"I've always known even 15 years ago you would cover me with scars... Now that you're finally tied to me I can get that karashishi and perhaps some momiji to add it..."
"Where are you going to put it?"
He chuckled and raised a brow as he took your hand and placed it on his chest.
"On where you'll always be."
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Footnotes:
Karashishi "Lion Dog": The local Shinto religion of Japan, which pre-dates Buddhism, also has a lion protector, with a red head, who drives away evil spirits and brings health and wealth. No matter the origin though, the Fu Lion is fundamentally protective, strong, and courageous.
Ryu "Dragon": Oriental dragons are equally at home in the air or in the water. Usually embodying wisdom, strength and manipulating the forces of the universe for the benefit of people. Dragon can also clutch in one of his claws an object that is variously shown as a ball, a pearl, or a jewel, also known as “the closed-lotus form” essentially the essence of the universe, to control the winds, rains, fire and even the planets. This item is essentially seen in various Buddhist designs including temples and grave markers. It represents the spiritual essence of the universe, by which the dragon controls and protects it from those who might usurp those powers.
Sakura "Cherry Blossom": For Japanese imagery, the beautiful period of its flowering and then the all too soon fading and subsequent scattering of petals on the wind, symbolize life itself.  The fragility of the cherry blossom is the fragility of human existence.  they represent mortality, love, magnificent beauty, and sudden death.  It is regarded by all as a good omen.
Botan "Peony":  It is regarded as a symbol of wealth, good fortune, and prosperity.  In addition, though,  it also suggests a sort of gambling, daring, and even a masculine devil-may-care attitude, quite unlike its character in the west.
Momiji "Maple Leaves": In Japan, it’s also the symbol of lovers. A single leaf or a multitude of leaves are also potent symbols of regeneration and resurrection as they cycle through the seasons.
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—GreyCaelum
PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME
Check out the Masterlist for more
All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)
General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan
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hwashua-luv · 1 month ago
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Sweet Encounters
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Walking down the pavement—the gentle hum of city life around you, the long shadows of the late-afternoon sun sprawling over the ground. Just an ordinary day, with the same tired routines and duties in store. Little did you know, today would bring a surprise that would turn the whole course of your day upside down.
That was a few months ago when you first met Choi Seungcheol. This time, it was purely incidental; he had bumped into you at an art gallery in front of the very same painting. He was quite the smooth talker, breaking the ice by striking up a conversation, and you were easily pulled in by his effortless grace and interest in your thoughts. What began as light, ephemeral pleasantries turned into a slew of texts and sporadic meetups.
At best, your relationship with him was unconventional. Seungcheol was a millionaire businessman with a reputation for being charismatic and mysterious; you were an aspiring writer trying to make a name in a world that often felt indifferent. Although he was far above your station, Seungcheol had offered you financial support; it was an act starting in its frankness. He insisted on referring to it as a mutual arrangement, a way in which you could end up with a little bit of free time to write with less continuous level stress of not having enough money.
Today you met with him again for yet another of your regular catch-ups. The evening was warm, and you dressed simple, yet elegant: a perfect choice for the occasion. You had always loved moments like that with him; he provided comfort to your soul by his side and in his conversation.
You reached the upscale café where you decided to meet Seungcheol, and seated at one edge, you found him, incredibly stylish in his made-to-measure suit. His eyes lit up as yours met his, and he quickly rose from his seat. The friendly smile was just right.
"Hey," you answered, trying to cool down the enthusiasm and nervousness that had crept into your voice. "Sorry I'm a bit late."
"Not at all," he said suavely, drawing out a chair for you. "You look lovely, as always."
You sat down, your heart fluttering at the compliment. "Thank you. How was your day?"
"Busy, but good," he answered, eyeing the menu. "I've been looking forward to this all day. It's nice to have a break from the usual routine."
The waiter came around and took your drink orders, and you soon fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. Seungcheol talked animatedly about his new business venture to which you spoke a little about how you wrote and some of the difficulties you ran into.
The conversation was so easy; you just couldn't help feeling that you were meant to be with him. The class and money barriers didn't seem to count in each other's presence. It was just two human beings who understand each other, share interests, and respect each other.
After some time, he came back with your drinks and a small plate of pastries. Taking a sip out of your coffee, feeling the rich taste melting inside, you took a moment to relax.
"So," Seungcheol said, the soft look in his eye directed at you. "I've been meaning to ask. How are you feeling about your writing lately? Are you making any progress?
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and hesitation. "Actually, yeah. I have been struggling a bit. There's this one story that's just been giving me a hard time. I mean, I keep rewriting the same scenes over and over again."
Seungcheol leaned forward, attentive. "Writer's block, huh? I know that can be tough. Sometimes it helps to step away from it for a while and gain a new perspective."
You nodded, feeling he understood you. "That's what I've been trying to do. Maybe some distance will clear things up."
Reaching the length of the table, he picked up your hand with such warm, gentle hands that a nice shiver ran up your arm. "You're really good, and I know you're going to totally ace this. If there's anything I can do to make it easier for you, just say the word."
It was the sincerity in his voice that swelled your heart. You looked into his eyes, and you could see they held real concern and encouragement for you. It was in these little moments that you realized just how special the connection you shared with Seungcheol truly was.
As the night dragged on, you noticed that you became looser and less rigid. The topic of their conversation grew more light-hearted and filled with laughter and banter. Then the sun began to set, giving a golden hue to the outdoor café setting.
Finally, the conversation quietened down, and there it was: that comfortable silence between the two of you. You gazed on Seungcheol, who watched you with another thoughtful expression.
"I'm really glad we met," he said softly. "You brought so much light into my life."
You felt a flush hit your cheeks after hearing such words. "That's nice to say. You've been so kind and supportive. I really don't know where else I would be otherwise."
His eyes locked with yours, and for one full moment, everything else seemed to blend out of focus. There was a level of understanding between you that spoke for a connection so deep, one that had cultivated over the months.
His eyes never strayed from yours as Seungcheol began to move closer, inch by inch. His hand still rested against yours as your breath hitched in your throat, your mind grasping exactly what was happening next. You felt mixed emotions, part excited, part nervous.
His lips brushed against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The sensation was tender and full of emotion; it could not be more perfect, a real reflection of the bond between you both. Your bond is deepening now, and with each touch, your heart begins racing as you melt into this moment.When he pulled away, the both of you were panting, your eyes locked in what seemed like mutual understanding. The kiss was more than a physical action. It was like the seal on the pent-up feelings building between you.
His smile was tender, relieved. "I've wanted to do that for a while now.".
You couldn't help but smile back, and contentment rushed. "I'm glad you did."
The rest of the night was basically a blur of happiness. You walked around a park located a few blocks from the coffee shop. The two of you talked and laughed as the stars began to appear above. It was a perfect ending to a day that started off somewhat ordinary but turned out to be really memorable.
"It's a deal," Seungcheol shook your hand the last time while saying goodbye, the slow, light squeeze meaningful.
"I'll see you soon."
You nodded; you were getting too thrilled and happy. "I can't wait."
He left your side with a final smile and a lingering look, and you walked away, with each step you took away from him you felt everything swell with the promise of a future bright and hopeful, more than it ever was.
That sweet encounter with Choi Seungcheol made you realize that sometimes life surprises you. You just found something extraordinary in the middle of your routine—some honest connection reeling out from societal bounds to touch your heart in ways unimaginable.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
Word count: 1217
Author's note: This is my first time publishing my work so please let me know if I have spelling or grammar mistakes. The same book has been posted on Quotev and Wattpad (hwashua-luv). Each oneshot will be posted on Instagram (hwashua._.luv1708). Requests are also open <3
All rights reserved. © 2024 hwashua-luv
All works written by me do not copy, translate or repost my works without my given consent.
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thebeast-dennis-etcetera · 4 months ago
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Always There
Note: I know I’ve been MIA for a while but the “writer block” bug bit me good. Anyways, hope I can apologize better with this Gibbs Prompt!
Prompt: Gibbs has a panic attack after hearing old military footage.
"Tony, knock it off, you're gonna make me drop it and then we're all gonna be in trouble," you warned the overly excited agent as he made grandous hand motions near the tray of coffees you had.
"Oh come on, Y/N. I know you're just as excited as me. You're the biggest crime noir movie nerd I know."
You just smiled at his theatrics as the both of you exited the elevators and walked towards the bullpen, where the rest of the team was waiting.
"Tony been talking your ear off about the new Gregory Haines film?" McGee asked as you handed over his coffee with an eyeroll.
"You have no idea. It took him 10 minutes just to order his coffee because he was busy talking about the trailer with the barista."
You handed Bishop her loaded breakfast bagel and latte before finishing with Gibbs' tall black coffee. He was quietly engrossed in whatever case file was on his desk, barley looking up to greet you. It was unusual of him since you two were kind of a thing now. Of course no one knew about it, but for the last 3 months or so, you and Gibbs had been going on late night dates and hanging out at each others houses, occasionally sleeping together.
You blamed his distant behavior on keeping a professional cover with you so as not to arise any suspicion from the team, but kept a reminder in your head to ask him about it later.
"But she just can't help going back to him, totally oblivious to the fact that he's actually the town murderer-
"DiNozzo. Are you able to focus today?" Gibbs inquired in irritation, irrupting Tony's lengthy synopsis to Bishop. His tone was a bit more gruff than usual, even throwing Tony off a bit.
"Uh, yeah. Sorry boss. Back to work."
As Tony took his seat at his desk, McGee pulled up a picture of a very obvious decomposed body being pulled from the water. "Master Sargent Gantry, was found by local police, washed up on the shore 2 days ago. Shot in the head, the county's ME determined the cause of death to be a suicide after tracing the trajectory of the bullet and the linking it to the Master Sargent's missing sidearm that the police found when doing a sweep of the lake." Using the clicker, he changed the screen so that it showed a picture of a plastic bag filled with what looked like letters and a personal recording device. "Unfortunately, a couple days later, they also found this vacuum sealed bag containing letters to the Master Sargent and a recording of an unidentified male admitting to friendly fire during a firefight back in Iraq of 1991."
"1991? Wasn't that-
Before Bishop could finish whatever historical fact she had in mind, she was interrupted by Gibbs.
"Operation Desert Storm."
All of you turned to look at him as he stood up from his desk, coffee in his hand.
"DiNozzo and McGee, I want you two getting all the information you can from Master Sargent Gentry's time in the Marine Corps. Find out if anyone had any problems with him that would suggest motive. Bishop, I want all the records pulled from the ME that did Gentry's autopsy, talk with Ducky and Palmer. Y/N, you're with me. Abby and Sloan are going over the recording found with our victims body."
No one dared asked any follow up questions as all the clues were adding up. His more than usual grumpiness, the distant look in his eyes. You all knew Gibbs served in Desert Storm so seeing what looked like a fragging on a superior officer and possible friend, would definitely offput him.
You caught up to him as he entered the elevator, destined to the lab. It was quiet for a few seconds before you decided to speak.
"You ok?
He just nodded, but didn't speak further on it. Once the doors opened, you were following behind as he entered Abby's lab, where Sloan was already waiting. She looked just as worried as you felt.
"Whadya got Abbs?"
"Ok, so luckily for us, the letters and recording were vacuum sealed in a plastic bag, preserving them perfectly. The letter don't give any names or clues as to who wrote them but when I listened on the recording, I found something."
Gibbs nodded to her, to which she turned to her computer and clicked a button, immediately filling the lab with loud sounds of machine guns firing. It was the only time you had ever seen Gibbs visibly flinch. As you all listened to the audio clearly describing a firefight with enemy forces, you noticed the change in Gibbs' demeanor. He seemed to stand rigid as his free hand slowly closed itself in a fist, while the other adjusted holding his coffee in almost a nervous manner.
Are they coming from the south side or not?!
Who's got eyes on that treeline?!
The sounds of bullets ricocheting off of metal could be heard as a couple of men cursed before returning fire.
Check your fire Watts!
Did I hit him?! Tell me I didn't hit him Sarge! Is he moving?!
You could see the hard swallow come from Gibbs as he turned towards the exit, glancing quickly over you before looking away. In that split second, you identified exactly what he was feeling. Panic.
"That's enough Abby," you spoke, making her quickly stop the recording in concern. You looked over at Sloan who was also know focused on Gibbs.
"You alright Gibbs?" she asked tentatively.
He cleared his throat and nodded before heading to leave. "Send the recording to DiNozzo and McGee. Have them identify the voices."
As he walked out, he threw his full cup of coffee away in the trash, confirming that something wasn't right. As Sloan made an attempt to follow him, you stopped her.
"I got it. You stay with Abby."
He had almost managed to escape you through the elevators but you threw your arm in between the doors, causing them to open back up as you slipped in.
As the elevator began it's accent, you watched as Gibbs leaned his head back against the wall, eyes shut, and began breathing a bit heavier than before. Knowing, he would never want anyone to see him like this, you hit the emergency stop button and went over to him.
"Gibbs. It's me, y/n. Can you hear me?"
He didn't answer, but instead turned to face the wall, hands gripping the railing till his knuckles were white. You knew at this point, he was fully immersed in a panic attack and couldn't talk. He was now breathing through his mouth, eyes still shut and you knew if you didn't so something, he was gonna start hyperventilating.
So you squeezed yourself underneath his arms so that it was you between him and the wall and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head down to hear you.
"Jethro, it's me. You're having a panic attack and I need you to slow your breathing for me, alright?"
He shook his head in defiance as his jaw clenched and unclenched.
"Just listen to me. Listen to my voice. You're here with me. We're in the elevator, no one else is here."
You were surprised when he used one arm to wrap around your waist, squeezing you tightly, as the other stayed gripped to the railing.
"I- I can hear them-
Your heart broke at the sound of his voice. He sounded defeated and almost scared, causing you to hold him tighter. Still, you whispered the same words over again, hoping to bring him out of the obvious memory he was reliving.
"You're not there anymore. It's over, you're here now. With me. In the elevator. Bishop is down in the bullpen. Ducky and Palmer are in autopsy. Vance is in his office."
You recited everything to him, describing all the details.
"Just breath with me Jethro. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Keep doing that."
You practiced normal breathing with him until you finally felt some of his body relax. His other hand eventually let go of the railing and joined his other arm to wrap around you. His grip was still tight and his face was buried in the crook of your neck but his breathing was a lot better. Now you began to feel his body start trembling as all the adrenaline was slowly finding ways to leave him.
You knew the worst of it was over and you didn't need to talk anymore, but just hold him and stay with him until he was back in control. You ran your fingers through his hair in the same motion over and over again while making sure to take in deep breaths.
Once you felt his grip loosen and take a step back, you wiped your own tears that had fallen and smiled gently up at him. He quickly wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, obviously somewhat embarrassed about what happened but as he turned to look away from you, you pulled his face towards yours and kissed him.
You heard him sigh into the kiss as he pulled you back into his arms.
"Thank you," he said, moving to nuzzle your neck again.
"Of course. I'll always be there for you Jethro."
The both of you took a few more minutes to pull yourselves together before facing the rest of them team, which you knew were gonna have a lot of questions after Abby filled them in on what happened.
But none of it mattered as you smiled slightly to yourself, feeling closer to Gibbs than ever before.
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writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 10 months ago
Text
Secret softy (Ashley Sanchez x Reader)
Based on this request
Sorry this took a while to finish, writers block is a pain. Hopefully this is okay and is kinda what you wanted. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy :)
Warnings: None I think
Words: 2.4k
Three months had passed since I last saw Ashley. We had been together officially for almost four years, but we had been mostly long-distance since the start. With us both being professional athletes, her soccer and me hockey, it didn't leave as much time for visits during on season. We would spend off-season with the other when possible, Ashley had been pretty busy lately, unfortunately. It didn't matter now though, my season was officially over which meant more time with her.
I was trying to enjoy time with Ashley, but I was kind of freaking out. I was going to be going to more of Ashley's camps so we could spend more time together. The only problem was her team didn't seem to like me very much. I knew I could be a bit standoffish when I met new people, but I had tried to be more friendly when I met them. I wasn't actually sure if that's why they didn't like me, it was more an assumption based on past experiences. They were her team, some of her closest friends, honestly, I wanted them to like me. Three years had passed since our first meeting and I didn't know how to change it.
Ashley wrapped her arms around my shoulders, snapping me out of my thoughts, "You okay Y/n/n?"
"I'm fine."
"No, we don't do that. You can be stoic, grumpy, tough, or whatever around everyone else, but not me. If you don't want to talk to me about it, tell me, I won't push. Just don't pretend you're fine when I know you're not."
"I'm sorry. Cuddles?"
Ashley lay down on the couch, letting me lie on top of her, head resting against her neck. It was a lot easier to deal with feelings when wrapped up in the comfort she provided. After a few minutes, all my thoughts just tumble out.
Fingers ran through my hair, making me groan. Ashley always knew what I needed, when I needed it. It's one of the reasons I loved her so much. "My love, it's not that they don't like you. I know what you're going to say, but it's true. They just find you a little bit intimidating, they don't know how to act around you, they don't know how to read you."
"You couldn't have mentioned this like 3 years ago?"
"Don't take that tone with me Y/n. I didn't know how they felt until recently when I told them you'd be around more this season. All you have to do is try to be a bit more open, talk to them, interact with them. A smile every now and then wouldn't hurt either. I know it's not easy for you, but even trying will make a difference."
I sighed, nuzzling my face further into her, "I'm sorry Ash. Okay, I can do that. At least I think. I'm sorry for being grumpy with you. Let me cuddle for a minute then I'll make dinner and we can finish packing, maybe a bath?"
She kissed my forehead, fingers running through my hair, "You weren't grumpy at me, you just let the nerves get the better of you. Don't make a habit of it though. A bath sounds fantastic. I love you grumpy."
I peppered her face with kisses before dragging myself up, "I love you."
---
A smile instantly appeared as arms wrapped around my waist, accompanied by the familiar voice of my girlfriend. "Hi baby."
I turned around, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her up, her legs wrapping around me. My head rest against her chest, enjoying the feeling of her again. Honestly, it hadn't even been that long apart, I had to spend a few weeks at home before joining her. Ashley was my place, my home, my comfort. Anytime we were apart, even for a few days, felt like forever. "I missed you."
Some of Ashley's team were in the lobby hanging back waiting for her. I sent them a quick smile and wave before turning my attention back to Ashley. She pecked my lips, arm wrapping around my shoulder, letting me cuddle against her. Despite what most would think, 90% of the time I was the little spoon and I loved it. "I missed you too. Dinner tonight? We have training this afternoon so maybe 7?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, I'll find somewhere and sort it."
"Thank you. Also, team bonding tomorrow night if you're up for it. No pressure."
"I'll be there."
All I really wanted to do was spend alone time with Ashley. I decided on a picnic on the beach instead of a restaurant. So while Ashley was at training, I went to the store to pick up some of her favourite snacks, drinks, desserts, and of course flowers. At about 6:30, I ordered Ashley's favourite pizza then headed to the beach to set everything up, then texted her where to meet me. My original plan was to pick her up, but I also wanted everything to be set up before she got there.
Right at 7pm, Ashley came walking along the beach. Dressed in sweats and a hoodie, looking as beautiful as ever. "What's all this?"
"Well, I wanted alone time with you and this is more romantic than a restaurant I think. This is okay right?"
Ashley smiled, lips connecting with mine in a deep kiss, "Y/n/n, anything you do is amazing. I love this and I love you so much. Are those flowers?"
"I love you more. Of course, can't have a romantic dinner without flowers."
After dinner, we ended up lying on the beach watching the stars. Ashley cuddled into my side, leaving light kisses along my neck. "How did I get so lucky with you?"
"I'm the one who got lucky Ash. For some reason, you met my grumpy ass and decided yes that is who I want to be with. You are incredible my love, you fill my life with so much love and happiness. I wouldn't give you up for anything in this world. I love you."
"I love you Y/n/n. I will never get over this side of you. Your grumpy ass is stuck with me for life, just gotta make it official."
I laughed, tapping her nose. It was mostly a joke, Ashley knew that I would propose likely in the next couple of months. I just wanted it to be perfect and not that she knew, but I wanted both her team and her family there. "Soon my love."
----
It had been a few weeks since I started coming to camp with Ashley. Since she told me I was kind of intimidating, I was trying to be more friendly. It wasn't the easiest thing, I had always been more withdrawn and perceived as grumpy or tough. I wanted her team to like me so I was trying. They were important to her so I wanted to at least make an effort to get along with them.
Most of them still kept a bit of a distance from me. They were friendly and included me when I was around, but there was still some unsureness on their part. Emily on the other hand seemed to make it her mission to annoy me as much as possible. In a way, it was nice that she didn't seem to mind my so-called grumpiness. It was also incredibly annoying. Despite that, I had a soft spot for her.
Emily ran at me the moment Ashley untangled herself to go get a drink, managing to jump on me before I could stop her, "Emilyyy, get off."
My hair was messed up before Emily dropped back to the ground, tongue sticking out at me. 
"Grump."
"Irritating."
"Yeah yeah whatever, you love it. Some of the girls and I are going shopping, you wanna come?"
"That is the last thing I want to do. Shopping is my nightmare and I already do enough of it with Ash." Emily looked slightly disappointed which made me feel guilty. I also realised this could be a good opportunity to develop my relationship with at least some of them. I couldn't bring myself to go shopping so I suggested the next thing I could think of. "I could meet you for lunch or coffee instead if you guys are doing that."
"It's a date. I'll text you when we're heading for lunch."
Ashley popped up next to me, making me jump slightly at her sudden presence, "You going on a date with someone else?"
Emily wrapped her arm around my shoulder which I instantly tried to push off, but she just wrapped it around tighter. I didn't have the energy for a fight so just let it go. "Yup, I'm stealing your girl."
"You and whoever else you're dragging shopping."
Of course, Ashley got excited at the idea of shopping and decided to go along with them. It wasn't a surprise, Ashley loved shopping and it made Emily go away so I was happy. Now I just had to get her to let me stay back. "Finally. Don't even ask, don't pout, it's not going to work. I'm not coming shopping, you have your girls, I'm going to the gym. Go have fun baby, I'll be there for lunch. I love you."
"Fine, I'll carry my own bags. Just this once. I love you and thank you for trying. By the way, I think Em really likes you."
"She alright I guess. Now go."
Throughout lunch, Ashley was on one side of me and Emily was on the other. Which meant Emily annoyed me while Ashley laughed at me. I admit it helped with the nerves, and stopped me from thinking too much about everything. Emily poked my cheek over and over until I slapped her hand away, poking her cheek instead. I unsuccessfully looked at Ashley for help, her being distracted in conversation.
I groaned, leaning back, trying to be as dramatic as possible, "Why are you hellbent on annoying me? You're like the annoying little sister I never wanted."
"Because I can and you're stuck with me as long as you're with Ash."
"Dammit, that means I'm stuck with you for life."
Emily stopped her annoyance, smiling at me instead, "You going to be with our Ashley for the rest of your life?"
"That's the plan."
A hand landed on my shoulder, running down my arm as lips pressed against my cheek, "I like that plan."
My hand ran along her thigh, kissing her cheek, "I do too."
"Alright, before things get even more gross. How did you two meet? I don't think we ever heard that story."
---
I crawled up the bed, settling myself on top of Ashley, letting out an appreciative groan as her fingers ran through my hair. This trying to be nicer thing was a lot of work. It had meant being more aware of my actions or how I held myself around them. I had never had to put that much thought into myself before. It was honestly exhausting.
"You know I would give up hockey in a heartbeat for you. I miss you so much."
"I know you would, I would do the same, but we both know we would be miserable not doing what we love. What's wrong? You get like this when somethings wrong."
"Ugh, I know. I'm just looking forward to the day when distance isn't part of our relationship. I'm just tired. Putting effort into being nicer and less intimidating is exhausting."
Ashley peppered my cheek with kisses, ending with a soft peck to my lips, "Well you're doing an amazing job Y/n/n. Half the team loves you already and the rest are on the way. You know I appreciate you right? How much you're trying to get along with them."
"You mean the world to me, Ash. Even if it's exhausting or hard, I would do anything for you. This team means a lot to you so it's important to me to get along with them. I'm just sorry it took longer than it should have."
"I'm just happy all the people I love get along."
We spent a while cuddling and making out. There weren't many words spoken, we were just enjoying time together after a couple of crazy days on her end. In our jobs that was the reality, where we barely saw each other all day, only to fall asleep minutes after getting to bed. It left me missing Ashley even though I spent every night cuddled up with her. I missed the awake cuddles, the soft kisses or not-so-soft kisses, the light touches, the comfortable silence, and the random conversations. I could have stayed there all night, but there was team bonding tonight so we had to drag ourselves down to Alyssa and Alex's room.
Everyone was waiting already, fighting over what team bonding was going to be. I made myself comfortable on the floor, leaning back against the wall while Ashley went to join in on the fight. I must have zoned out watching her because I didn't notice Kristie sitting next to me until a hand waved in front of my face.
"Sorry."
"Don't be. I get like that with Sam all the time. You make her incredibly happy, you know that right?"
"All I want is for her to be happy so I will do everything in my power to make sure she is. Seeing Ashley happy, makes me happy."
Kristie pat my shoulder, "That's what I like to hear. Keep her that way."
"Yes ma'am."
Ashley had run back to our room for a deck of cards so I was left alone with her team. Since lunch the other day, I had gotten closer to some of the younger girls, but the veteran players were still a work in progress. I hadn't actually been alone with them pretty much ever. Honestly, I felt kind of awkward, like I needed to clarify that I didn't hate them or apologise for being so standoffish, "Look um I know we got off on the wrong foot-"
Alex interrupted me pretty much instantly, "Hey don't worry about it, we've seen how you are with Ash. You may seem grumpy and mean, but really you're a big softy. You treat Ashley like royalty so we like you. You also put up with Emily so you can't be that bad."
"Yeah well, she does that to me. Look I may seem grumpy or uninterested, but I don't mean to. I really like you guys. Even Emily."
"Hey!"
"Also, before you even give me any sort of talk. Ash is my forever, I plan to marry her one day soon, to spend the rest of my life with her. I would never do anything to jeopardize that. I would hurt myself before I ever dreamt of hurting her."
"Good. Welcome to the family Y/n."
Ashley came back soon after the conversation had ended, settling herself in my lap to whisper in my ear, "You okay?"
"I'm more than good my love."
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sushiwriterhere · 1 year ago
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in a heartbeat
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summary: "Maybe he just didn’t need the fanfare, maybe he needed to ditch the plans and just hand the rock to you over Chinese takeout and let that be it."  rating: explicit (no minors!) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 3.9k warnings: very fluffy, PiV (unprotected), no use of y/n.  notes: this is my first fic in a while and im fighting writers block something awful. this is not proofread :( pls lmk what you think <3! my other works are here part of the coming home to you universe
four days before.
“I’m gonna go out for drinks with the girls Saturday.”
“Uhhh, you can’t.”
Did he need to loop your coworkers into the proposal plan too? Phoenix having dragged it out of him so they could all help was bad enough. Bradley could feel his headache building behind his eyes. He tried to avert eye contact to make the conversation feel natural, instead focusing his gaze on the onion he was trying to caramelize. 
“I can’t?”
Bradley’s never been controlling, never tried to tell you who you can and can’t hang out with, and certainly never with that particular tone in his voice. He heard the mail you were inspecting drop onto the granite countertop as you turned your full attention on him.
“Why?”
Fuck.
He could hear the way your eyes were narrowed from the uncharacteristically steady tone of your voice, the way one eyebrow was raised expectantly. 
In the back of his mind, Bradley also saw the picnic blanket, candles, and bottle of your favorite wine stashed at Mav’s. There were the flowers he had to pick up and arrange on Friday while you were working, the homemade meal Javy promised him that he needed to grab on Saturday around midday. 
“I made dinner reservations at this new place down by the beach, and the only time they had was Saturday evening.”
“And you forgot to tell me until now?”
Bradley didn’t forget. Not about these types of things. Ever since your first date, Bradley had been nothing but proactive. He planned dates, cooked meals, doted on you. Forgetting just wasn’t like him. 
“Made the reservation this morning and you seemed busy.” He finally met your eyes and he watched as your gaze softened and you turned back to the stack of mail.
“Bradley Bradshaw you are a sap.”
And the moment passed. 
You and Bradley had talked about marriage, you have. You’d talked about it enough for him to know what kind of ring you wanted, that you wanted a small, intimate ceremony, and that you’d lost more than enough sleep over whether to invite your parents. You’d talked enough to know Bradley would probably have the Dagger Squad as best men (people?) and that he’d let Phoenix be part of your bridal party if you wanted, that he wanted Mav right there next to him, and that there would be an empty chair for Goose and Carole. That was one thing. 
Getting down on one knee and actually going over that line? That was another. 
The rational part of his brain had always insisted that you would say yes, that you also knew from very early on, if not the beginning. The unhelpful part of his brain kept telling him the ring was the wrong size or that a seagull would swoop down and steal the shiny thing right from his fingertips before you could even say no.
three days before.
Bradley’s checked the ring at least six times since he, Javy, and the other guys came into the shop. The sound of the velvet clicking back against itself then sliding open again was starting to grate on his nerves, but he wanted to give Bradley the benefit of the doubt. He remembered what it was like, that lump in your throat, the way his brain tended to keep him up about every disagreement, every time he should’ve apologized instead of stewing on his anger. 
Javy, instead, choose peace. He watched calmly as Bradley opened the box again, and brought a finger up to trace the gems before deciding against it.
Doesn’t want to smudge it.
There was clearly something on his mind, because the ring had been paid for months ago and the re-sizing and adjustments were included in the price. But there Bradley was, stuck to the shop floor, looking like he was trying to decide between getting sick right there and maybe saving it for the trees outside the shop’s doors.
“What’cha thinkin’ about there, Rooster?” Jake sidled up to Bradley’s side, voice a low murmur, as if trying not to startle the man. 
Regardless, Bradley jumped slightly, jostling the open box and the sound of the box snapping shut echoed harshly around the showroom. Bradley looked like he might’ve decided on getting sick inside. 
“Should I get a second one? What if she doesn’t like this one?” 
Across the room, a sales associate perked up just slightly, clearly looking to score on another guy so nervous he looked like a ghost. Vultures.
“Bradley, my man, we’ve been over this a thousand times. Phoenix got her Pinterest, it’s all a certain style, and it’s definitely the perfect ring.” 
Jake and Bradley had begun to get along, rather begrudgingly at first, then very amicably, after the mission and Jake saved Bradley’s life. Seeing him comfort Bradley was something else though, Javy acknowledged. It was kind of nice to have that tension dissipate from within their team.
“But what if I need another perfect one?” 
“Are you gonna propose to her twice?” Bob had popped up on Bradley’s other side, silent as ever. “Usually there’s a second one for the wedding, but I’m here for a bit of a new tradition.”
At that, Bradley deflated a bit. The box in his hands clicked open, then shut again.
“No, no new tradition.” He murmured, before slipping the box into his pocket.
two days before.
Bradley knew Mav loved him, but he wasn’t sure how much he would after this whole ordeal. They must’ve run over the schedule at least a thousand times, forward and backward, even while flying over their comms. At this point, Bradley was sure he had the entire Dagger Squad reciting the plan in their sleep. He hoped he at least wasn’t, he didn’t need you to be clued into anything. 
“Nothing has moved since the last time you were here. Go home, Bradley.” Mav’s voice carried through the house as Bradley unceremoniously burst through the door. 
He’d started leaving work fifteen minutes early last week, just to double check that everything was in its place, that nothing had broken or spontaneously combusted. It was just enough time for him to stop at Mav’s place on the way home, do his round, and make it home around the same time as usual so as not to rouse suspicion. 
“I’m just–”
“Just checking yeah, get outta my house Bradley and go be with your fiance.” Mav had rounded the corner into his back room, all bathed in sunlight and a picture-perfect reminder of why people loved living in California. 
He was the picture of relaxed domesticity, dish towel over his shoulder, spatula in one hand that he was clearly thinking about hitting Bradley with as he paced the room and ticked things off on his fingers as he murmured to himself. 
“You’re gonna wear a hole in my carpet, and I happen to really like that rug.” Bradley stopped walking but the way his fingers twitched at his sides clued Mav into the way he was clearly still running through the run of show in his mind. 
“She’s not my fiance yet.”
“And she never will be if I murder you for breaking into my house and giving my wife a heart attack.”
“Penny’s not even home at this hour.” 
Mav had never seen Bradley like this. He’d missed graduations and recitals and all the shit you don’t get to see as an estranged god-father, but he’d done enough wondering about what he was like in those moments to have come up with this scenario. Bradley truly was the perfect mix of Goose and Carole–all Goose’s easy romantic energy, ever creative, ever attentive, and just as much of Carole’s eye for detail and desire for things to go right. 
“Bradley.”
Mav watched as the fight eased out of Bradley’s shoulders and his hands relaxed at his sides, “Right. Sorry.”
“Look son, you don’t have to be sorry for wanting this to go right. And you’ve only got a little of sorry to be about starting to drive me insane.” At that, Bradley cracked half a smile and Mav considered that a small success. “You like this at home?”
A sharp laugh echoed around the wood-paneled room, “Oh absolutely not. She’d know in a heartbeat.”
“Well, then you have your answer.” The gears were turning at a million miles an hour as Bradley tried to decipher what he meant. “She knows you in a heartbeat, which means she knows how she feels about you. And we both know what that means for Saturday.”
Bradley nodded, the picture of relaxation and ease all at once. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
one day before.
Bradley was starting to think the gash on his finger was some sort of awful omen, something terrible that had been awaiting to reveal itself until the last moment. He’d arranged flowers for you probably a million times at this point, had even done it blindfolded (only cheating a bit so he didn’t lose a finger) just to amuse you. Now, as he stared at the blood bubbing up from his middle left finger where he’d just stabbed himself with the scissors, the entire thing felt like some sort of cosmic joke.
He’d never doubted that he wanted to marry you, not even when you’d argued or insisted on shoving your ice cold fingers and toes up against him in the dead of night. Not once had he wavered since that initial thought in his brain, and he was even more sure when he went to open that fucking bank account that he’d been diligently adding a sizeable portion of his paycheck to. (What? He wanted to be sure he could afford exactly what you wanted, DeBeers advertising campaign be damned.)
Maybe he just didn’t need the fanfare, maybe he needed to ditch the plans and just hand the rock to you over Chinese takeout and let that be it. 
The only thing keeping him going despite all his nerves, aside from his deep love for you, was the way you’d once leaned against him when the two of you were spending a week away in the mountains. Overlooking something that felt like it was right from a postcard, you’d told him exactly how all the little romantic things he did made you feel. 
“Every time you buy me flowers, I get this little feeling in my chest, like something curling around my heart.” Bradley remembered keeping himself from making a joke, something about heart attacks, trying not to break the moment as the fog hung low over the trees. 
“From the moment you picked me up for our first date and insisted on opening the car door, bringing me flowers, they all make me get that little squirmy feeling that no one’s ever given me before.” You had pressed yourself to his side but not met his eyes, as if your confession was too powerful, too heavy to make when looking at him, “And some of it’s because I’m a sap at heart and you somehow know what I want before I do, but some of it’s just because it’s you Bradley. Always has been, always will be.”
The words said next would keep him going in his darkest moments, kept him together on long deployments, kept him pushing through every moment of doubt in the planning process.
“So if you ever decide to propose to me, even if it’s just you asking me over coffee, just know I’ll get that feeling, just because it’s you.” 
At that, you’d turned to face him, shifting so you could hook your chin over his shoulder where he turned his face to yours. He could see every lash, every spot on your face that he loved to press his lips to when you were too sleepy to protest. You’d graced him with a tiny smile, somehow just a bit melancholy, but all too loving. 
Bradley shook his head, clearing the memory as he scrambled to keep his blood from spattering on the countertop. He was going to have to grit his teeth through the pain of using a liquid bandaid so the pictures weren’t ruined by a regular bandaid. 
You’d compromised on drinks being Friday, so he had the evening to himself. All the time in the world for flowers, for a barbecue at Javy’s (home cooked meal to be picked up that night instead of Saturday morning), and for waiting up for you to text that you were ready to go home. 
the day of.
Bradley thought he’d be blinded by panic, or doubt, now that he was counting down hours and minutes in place of days or weeks. Instead, all he felt was a sense of serenity, almost like he was floating through the motions. 
The day started like every Saturday he’d had since you moved in and he’d been granted a relatively permanent station at Top Gun with Mav and the rest–you pressed up against him, your hair tickling some part of his bare skin, and the type of bone deep satisfaction with life that came with going to bed with a full belly and the love of his life at his side. He stared up at the ceiling fan as it made its lazy rotations and thought about how today was marking the difference between two parts of his life. 
After today, there would always be a time before the proposal, and after. 
The morning was lazy as you insisted you didn’t have a hangover but let Bradley cook you a plate full of turkey bacon, gently scrambled eggs, and a few hashbrowns. He knew you would be fine by afternoon, and after that excited to hang out at the beach before dinner. 
He was sort of counting on it. 
Apparently he’d underestimated your ability to bounce back because the way you draped yourself across his bare back was a little less than innocent as your hands smoothed over his shoulders and down his stomach. He slowed the way he was chewing the last of his hashbrown as you pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot under his ear. 
“Good morning, Bradley,” You crooned lowly.
“Mornin’.” 
His stomach jumped as you ran a nail over one of his nipples, and kissed at his shoulder. Tilting his head to the side to give you more room to work with, he took a slow drink of his water. 
Maybe he wanted you to work for it just a little, what with how badly he’d been stressing these last few weeks. 
And work for it you did. The light drag of your nails just barely there on his stomach and arms had him getting hard faster than he thought was humanly possible. But there was just something about the warmth of your chest at his back, the thinness of some shirt you’d stolen from him doing little to hide the swell of your breasts, that did it for him. Hell, it was really just that it was you that got him going. 
“I missed you last night.” You whined, just a bit, as he finally turned around on the barstool and gathered you into his lap. 
You could definitely feel the way he was hard against the soft give of your thighs, but somehow in that moment, all he wanted was you near. Sensing that somehow the moment had maybe passed, you curled in his lap and stretched your arms around his shoulders, apparently just content to be touching him.
“I missed you too.”
The way your lips met his was almost as natural as breathing, and then the moment wasn’t so innocent anymore. Your lips slotted against his as you kneaded at his arm muscles and part of Bradley was incredibly satisfied that you were enjoying just how much effort he put in at the gym. Sure, he had to be fit for his physical, but how hard he went on his biceps and shoulders was purely for your benefit. 
When the two of you finally stumbled back into the bedroom, Bradley thought he might pass out from how hard he was. Everything about you was amplified somehow. Your skin was softer and the gentle scent of whatever perfume you’d worn last night filled his nose. The give of your hips and thighs was easier and all he wanted was to sink his teeth into you and never let go. You might even let him.
Sprawled underneath him you looked like a goddess, bathed in the rising morning sun, nipples gently peaked as your chest rose and fell. 
“I love you.” 
It was so tender in comparison to the way you sat up and worked a hand inside Bradley’s boxers to grab firmly at his cock. He groaned as you shoved at the little clothing the two of you were wearing and in a moment, your skin was a beautiful contrast to the crisp white of the sheets. 
Bradley made to go down on you but you kept his face in your hands, “Been ready to go since I watched you scramble those eggs.”
He couldn’t hold back the way he barked out a laugh, that one was new. “The way the white and yolk were combined really do it for you?”
You smacked at his chest indignantly as he propped one of your thighs over the crook of his elbow, “Your back and arms look nice when you whisk, you asshole.”
You weren’t so huffy as he slid into you, gentle as ever. Bradley knew he wasn’t the biggest ever, but he also knew he wasn’t anything to scoff at either. He kissed away any discomfort he could see on your features til you rocked your hips up against his insistently.
“Give it to me like you mean it, babe,” Grinning all cheerfully, Bradley cursed under his breath as he felt you bear down on him.
After that, there was little to be said beyond whispers of I love you and the occasional swear word. Sometimes sex between the two of you was raunchy and heated, and other times it rounded out his Saturday mornings in a way that left him sated like nothing else. Sometimes he thought it might be better than flying. 
You came first, digging your nails into his shoulders and breathing his name in repeat. The feeling of you squeezing around him did little to keep him from coming and besides, the way you scraped your nails down his chest and begged him to let go definitely did him in. 
Clean up was quiet kisses and gentle shoves in the direction of the en-suite bathroom, Bradley making sure the water wasn’t too cold for you as you peed. (It was the little things.)
-
Fuck what Bradley had thought earlier about being serene, he thought he was going to crawl out of his skin. Holding your hand as the two of you made your way down the beachfront towards the space behind the Hard Deck, you were chattering on about some coworker’s baby shower and Bradley was focusing way too hard on not absolutely eating shit with the way the sand was shifting under his feet. 
In the distance, he could see the candles and the picnic blanket like a homing beacon. He couldn’t see Mav or Javy or anyone else, but he knew they were all hiding somewhere, ready to burst from the shadows in excitement. Harvard was also brandishing a camera even though Bradley couldn’t see any hint that he was around–turns out he was a more-than-amatuer photographer and had volunteered to capture the moment. 
“Bradley, what’s all this?” Your voice reached a winded sort of pitch as the two of you finally reached the set up.
It was perfect, and part of Bradley finally exhaled. The picnic blanket from your fourth date, the little tea candles doting the beach, and the bouquet of flowers resting at the corner of the blanket, right within Bradley’s reach.
Gently dropping your hand, Bradley picked up the flowers and pressed them into your hands. By now, you’d clearly caught on that something was happening because your eyes were wide and slightly teary, and there was a ghost of a wobble in your lower lip. 
Tan suit be damned, Bradley dropped to one knee and pulled out the velvet box that had been burning a hole in his pocket since before the two of you had gone out to dinner. (The dinner reservation had actually been real, to his credit.)
“Oh my god,” you whispered, bringing a hand to your mouth in a way that betrayed the way your hands were shaking. 
Bradley inhaled deeply, before popping open the lid of the box and letting his eyes flick down to where the ring was sitting, nestled right where it was supposed to be.
As if unable to stop yourself, you opened your mouth and blurted, “If you’re about to ask me what I think you are, the answer is yes. A thousand times yes.” 
Blinking up at you, Bradley didn’t move a muscle as you kept going, “Oh my god wait you probably have a whole speech, I’m so sorry, I’ll shut up now.”
Distantly, Bradley heard a shutter clicking but neither of you broke eye contact as his face broke into a huge smile. He kept going according to his plan, the unspoken understanding passing between the two of you that you’d never live that down.
He said your first name like a prayer, before launching into the speech he’d rehearsed for months now, “I have loved you since I met you. I love every part of you–your laugh, the way you’re passionate about your work, the way you love everyone around you with such intensity. I love you when we argue, I love you when we’re together and apart. You consume my every waking thought, and grace me with your presence when I dream. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. I want to bicker about how we go through junk mail, the right way to parallel park, and what show we’re going to watch on Thursdays for however long you’ll let me. I want you by my side for the good, the bad, in sickness, and in health.” He said your name again, before asking the question he already knew the answer to, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes, oh my god yes.” 
Miraculously, Bradley slipped the ring on your finger without incident, then gathered you up into his arms and pressed your lips together. His cheeks were wet with your tears. 
“I love you so much, Bradley Bradshaw, you are my everything,” You choked out when he set you down unable to stop yourself from sticking your hand out in front of you and crying harder when you saw the ring of your dreams adorning your hand. 
“I can’t believe you said yes before I asked,” He breathed before pulling you into him to kiss you fiercely one more time.
-
“She said yes before I even opened my mouth,” Bradley chuckled as you giggled by his side, hands never leaving the new ring on your finger.
“That’s not nearly as bad as you were for the last three months,” Javy crowed, and the crowd was in uproar as Bradley attempted to defend himself. 
Above all the noise and the lighthearted teasing, Bradley knew one thing–he was happy. And you had said yes.
----
tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @bradshawburner @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @joaquinwhorres @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch @seresinsweetie @notroosterbradshaw @kmc1989 @peachystenbrough @rhettabbotts @theharddeck @wkndwlff @waklman @blue-aconite @thedroneranger @bibitches-r-us @sunlightmurdock @laracrofted @jupitercomet - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are luv <r bradley. pls lmk if you'd like to be added/removed
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lottesreads · 5 months ago
Text
Why Me? - Part 11
Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)
Warnings: Forbidden relationship, ANGST, violence, nightmares, mentions of PTSD, mentions of child abuse, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, therapy (we love), mentions of death/being sick
Word Count: 12k
Summary: You're still reeling after what happened with Bob, but it all comes crashing down to reality when you go to work the next day. As you reminisce on memories you thought were lost, you make a move you know you should have made a long time ago. Things come to a head with Rooster once more, and you find yourself grieving for something you never had.
A/N: Well hellooo beautiful people!! I apologize for being gone so long, writers block had me in a chokehold and... yeah. But I'm back and I hope you enjoy! I'm not making any promises, but hopefully the next part will be out MUCH sooner than this one was.
p.s. I love every single one of you and comments and reblogs keep me going. That is all.
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21 years ago
“Bug!”, Carole yells up the stairs, “We gotta meet your dad and Bradley at the school, we’re gonna be late!” It was only your first week of being back with your dad and the Bradshaw’s for the summer, but it was a busy one at that. Bradley was still finishing up his last week of school while yours got out two weeks ago. And while your dad just got home from a 6-month deployment three days ago, Carole and Bradley were more than happy to make the weekend trip up to Ohio to come get you before he came back.
“Bug!”, she yells one more time with no response. Breathing out a sigh, she ascends the stairs and knocks on your door. “Are you almost ready sweetheart? We’re gonna be late for Bradley’s piano recital” Using two hands to open the door, you stand before her in the frilly yellow sundress the two of you bought while shopping the previous day. “Well don’t you look pretty! Are you all ready to go?” She watches as you shift your mouth to the side of your face. Bending to your level, she moves to push some of your hair behind your ear.
“What’s a matter?” You shrug and look into her big blue eyes. She hums in question as she looks you over. Your lip wobbles as you reach to touch the necklace around her neck, admiring it with gentle fingers. They trace over the silver butterfly pendant hanging just below her collar bone. Something was wrong this time around. You were… different from the little girl she said goodbye to last August. More timid, almost frightened to do anything you would deem as wrong. You weren’t even like this when you spent your winter break with them. It might have been the excitement of the impending holiday that kept her from noticing, but something changed since then.
It wasn’t uncommon for you to run into her arms when you first saw her for the summer, but the way you clutched onto her shirt and wouldn’t let go, so hard to the point that she had to carry you to the car, she knew something was wrong. And now, you’ve been so quiet. So unlike what she’s used to when you’re with Bradley, or just in her presence for that matter. When she got you all buckled in and on the road, it took less than 20 minutes for you to be knocked out completely, like you were finally able to let your guard down and sleep.
“I missed you and daddy. And Bradley.” Her heart breaks as she watches you sniffle. As you let go of the necklace, she reaches forward and effortlessly wraps you in a hug.
“Oh bug, we missed you, too. So much.” Her hand rubs circles up and down your back as she comforts you. “But we’ll get this whole summer together, and we’re gonna have so much fun. Right?” She moves back to watch you nod your head and rub a small fist over your cheek. Instinctively her hands move to replace your own, swiping your tears away with her thumbs.
Your eyes move back to the necklace and she follows your gaze. Without a second thought, her hands move behind her neck, unclasping it as she holds it in her fingers for you to look at.
“Did I ever tell you where I got this necklace from?” Shaking your head, you sniffle once more. “You know how I told you about your uncle Goose? Bradley’s daddy?” You nod as you trace your fingers along the chain. “Well, on our first date we went to a movie, then walked around in this big mall, kinda like the one we went to. We passed a jewelry store, and this necklace was in the window. I stopped to look at it and I told him how pretty I thought it was.” She pauses for one second before lightly pushing on your shoulders to turn you around.
“We went on a few more dates after that. And then-”, the necklace falls into your view as her hands come up to clasp it around your neck, “He finally asked me to be his girlfriend. I asked what took him so long, and he told me he was so nervous I would say no. Isn’t that so silly?” You giggle as she turns to have you look at her once more. “I of course said yes, and then that goof, he reached into his back pocket and gave me a little bag. And inside of it was this necklace.” She pokes the spot where the butterfly sits on your chest, hanging a little longer on your small body than on hers. “In that moment I realized two things. First, was that he bought the necklace still thinking I would say no. And knowing him he would have given it to me either way. And second, was that I was pretty darn sure I was gonna marry him.”
“Do you miss him?” your tiny voice asks as she looks up from the necklace back to your innocent eyes.
“Everyday. I used to wear this necklace to remind me of him, or look at my wedding ring that he picked out all by himself. But I realized I can just look over to Bradley and know there’s still a little piece of him with me everywhere I go.” Her eyes fill with unshed tears, not unlike most times when she thinks about her husband, but she smiles through it like she always does. Her hand smooths over your head as she looks at you wearing her necklace.
“Oh he would have absolutely adored you.” She clears her throat once before changing subjects, “Now whenever you look at this necklace I want you to remember that me, Bradley, and your Daddy are always with you, ok? No matter what.”
“I can keep it?”
“Of course!”, she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world she’s gifting you something that means so much to her. “But you have to promise me one other thing, ok?”
“What?”, you whisper.
“I want you to be brave like your uncle Goose. Because even though he was scared, he asked me anyway. And if he were here, he would tell you it was so worth it. So bug, do you think you can be brave for me?” You silently nod your head at her words, hair falling in your face as you do so. She doesn’t need to push it back for you as you do it yourself this time in order to look at her with your head held high.
“Good”, she whispers with a smile. It falls slightly as she asks you, “Is there anything you wanna tell me?” She holds her breath as you nod.
“Does Bradley practice piano a lot?” She stifles a laugh as her brows furrow.
“All the time, why do you ask?”
“Last time he was playing he wasn’t very good.” Hiding her face, she takes both of your hands in hers, rubbing your fingers.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, he’s gotten a lot better since then. And even if he didn’t, we’d still be front row cheering him on, right?”
“Right”, you say with a big nod.
“Speaking of, we’re gonna be late!” She squeezes your hand as the two of you bound down the stairs and into her car. 
“Was uncle Goose good at piano?”
“Oh he was so good at piano.”
“I hope Bradley is, too.” She laughs as she buckles you in the back seat.
“If he’s anything like his daddy he’ll be great. He’ll look like a wild bird doing it, but he’ll be just fine.”
-----------------------
Present Day
Your dad wasn’t lying when he told you he’d be waiting until you got home. Opening the door, you’re presented with the back of his head as he watches an old rerun of M.A.S.H. The door clicks as you lock it, and he turns off the t.v. at the sound. You give him a slight smile as he rounds the couch. Even though you drove the entire ten minutes back to your house with all the windows down and the AC on full blast, you can still feel a flush taking hold of your cheeks.
“How was dinner at Marcello’s?”, he asks as he folds his arms across his chest, yawning. You search your brain for what the hell he’s talking about until you remember what you told him you were doing.
“Oh yeah, it was good. Sorry it took so long, we started catching up and I didn’t realize what time it was”, you attempt to step past him.
“Who were you seeing again?”
“Just a friend from high school, she was in the area on a work trip”, you lie. It was easier this way. If you told him you were going to Bob’s he might ask questions about him, and it could lead to more invasive things you didn’t want to answer. Making something up completely different was easier than lying about Bob at all. Your dad hums at your answer, and you think he can almost see through you.
“Rooster was there on a date. I’m surprised you didn’t run into him.”
“It was packed for a Wednesday night. And since when does he tell you about his dating life?”
“Oh I don’t know. He called to let me know he had a box of my old things and we just got to talking. You might actually know her, he said she was a friend of Phoenix’s girl.” You stop at the bottom of the stairs, and you can almost feel your eye start to twitch as you slowly turn around. “For the life of me I can’t remember her name.”
“Does it happen to be Emily?” He snaps his fingers as he starts readjusting the coffee table and turning lights off.
“That’s it. You know her?”
“Oh”, you scoff, “Yeah I know her. Rooster knows her very well, actually.” He stops what he’s doing and turns to you.
“What does that mean- You know what? I don’t wanna know”, he decides as he walks over to you, placing a kiss at the top of your head. “Goodnight kiddo”, he says with a yawn. He walks down the hall to his own room, while you remain at the bottom of the steps.
“What an asshole”, you mutter under your breath. For a moment, you aren’t thinking about what just happened with Bob, you’re thinking about just how rude both Rooster and Emily were to him only a week ago. And after Rooster’s “apology”, he is now going on a date with the woman who had the audacity to laugh in Bob’s face? Typical.
-----------------------
You hardly sleep at all that night. Worried that you might wake up from another dream. Or not wake up at all and be trapped. These are paranoid thoughts, you know that. But all the same, your body will not allow you to relax for more than an hour. It isn’t until you’re sure you’ve fallen asleep for at least 20 minutes that your alarm startles you awake.
Groaning, you get up and head to your bathroom. You can already hear your dad starting his morning routine from his room below yours, and you focus on the noise to distract yourself from what you have to walk into today. Not only do you try and fail to forget how Bob’s hands felt, or how rushed he was just to kiss you, the worst part is that you don’t want to forget. You don’t want to pretend like nothing happened. You want to walk up to him and give him a kiss, ask him how the rest of his night was, if he wants to go see a movie with you on Saturday. But no. You learned from a very young age that getting what you want wasn’t really written in the stars.
However, pulling your hair back into a tight bun, you remember that you do have something that you want. You had to sacrifice a lot for it, but you got it in the end. The career you’ve always wanted, what you knew you were meant for deep down. Your eyes flicker from your hands as they deftly work to make sure not a hair is out of place, and then back to your face. Your hands stop as you stare at the slope of your nose, the shape and color of your eyes, anything that you think reminds everyone else of her.
You shake your head and get back to the task at hand. Once you’re finished, you eye strictly your hair in the mirror to make sure it’s up to standard, and your eye catches on your phone at the edge of the counter. You begin to chew your lip before unlocking it and searching through your contacts. Under Avila Clinic, your finger hovers.
Contrary to what Penny might have thought, you did have a therapist once upon a time. After your first few nightmares at the Academy, and with the support of Phoenix, you started therapy. Your therapist, Mary, was extremely helpful and understanding. You went to her for years while at school, but then deployments started happening and you got distracted. Life started to finally make sense, and your dreams were few and far between. Eventually they stopped happening altogether, and your naive brain thought that meant they were gone for good. Her practice is on the other coast, but you know it’s going to take a while for a new therapist to get your entire backstory to try and help you. You need someone who already knows, possesses the knowledge on how to help you. Someone you are already comfortable with sharing your feelings with.
A knock comes from your door taking you out of your thoughts.
“You almost ready to go?”, your dad asks from the hall. Your stomach flips at the thought of having to go to work, even if you do love it. Things have been… complicated recently. And even if you did pretend nothing happened already, you have a gut feeling it’s gonna be a lot harder than it was at the beginning of the week.
“Yeah”, you respond, “I’ll be out in a minute.”
-----------------------
Your father is none the wiser as you walk onto base. Your heart is beating so fast you’re worried he might be able to hear the echo against your chest. While he heads to his office to gather what he needs for the day, you set your things in the locker room. You know he’s going to be in there when you walk in the room. Like he always is. Because he’s always so prepared. Groaning, you shut the metal door to your locker and rest your forehead on the cool surface.
“Everything ok Mantis?”, Phoenix’s voice sounds from beside you.
“Oh everything is fine and dandy.” Her locker closes as she moves you by your shoulders, leading you out of the room and to your anxiety-induced nightmare.
“Ok weirdo. You gonna tell me what’s really on your mind?” She doesn’t stop as she marches you through the classroom where Bob is patiently waiting in his seat. Your eyes meet for the briefest moment before the influx of the rest of the group forces you to move toward your seat. 
“Maybe later”, you whisper to her as she sits. Your gut twists as you try and fail to not stare at the back of Bob’s head. Just last night your fingers were running through that same hair, and now you have to pretend like you don’t know what his body feels like against your own. Those thoughts are extinguished rather quickly as Rooster sits next to you. Your body goes rigid as you remember what else your dad told you last night. How dare he? After everything he’s already put you through, he’s so blatantly blind when it comes to other people’s feelings. He must feel your energy or the fact that you keep glaring at him through the corner of your eye. So when he looks up and gives you a small smile, you reciprocate. You’ve learned your lesson on confronting people at work, and if you want to fly on this next mission, you’re gonna be on your best behavior.
You are nothing if not professional in the air. You’re paired up with Phoenix and Bob on your first hop of the day, and if you were an outsider you wouldn’t even know there was something else going on. The three of you successfully pull off each paired maneuver your dad assigned with perfect communication. The entire time you were focused on flying, but Bob’s deep voice through the comm system didn’t help. It was extremely difficult to focus on what he was saying, not how he was saying it, but you did it anyway. 
When lunch comes around you walk into the mess hall and sigh. There are two options you’re weighing as you stand near the doorway, clutching your lunch bag in hand. Your “regular” seat sits empty next to Bob and Rooster is still sitting by himself in the corner. On one hand you could pretend everything was fine and sit next to Bob, or you could pretend you’re not mad at Rooster and sit next to him. Rolling your eyes they land back on Bob’s table where Phoenix is now sat across from him. Your hands sweat as you hold your lunch, eyeing the way Bob’s hands wipe the crumbs of chip dust off onto a napkin. Taking a breath, you allow yourself to be sad for a second.
Bob is quite literally the most perfect man you have ever met. He’s kind, thoughtful, and funny. Not to mention damn handsome and from your experience the best kisser. Your heart aches at the thought that he deserves to hear all this praise. He told you some of the nicest things anyone has ever said to you, and what did you do in return? When given the chance to tell him how you felt you reached for the logical side of your brain and refused to. In another life, you tell yourself. If you weren’t restricted by these stupid rules, if you had the courage to tell him how you felt. But here you still stand in the company of no one but yourself.
His head turns suddenly and you’re met with his eyes as he gives you the slightest smile. An invitation to take a seat at his side. But you swallow and tear your eyes away. They land on Rooster instead who is already looking at you, then at Bob. It’s too much as you breathe and choose the secret third option. Turning on your heel, you head toward your dad’s office.
Knocking on the cracked door before entering, your dad welcomes you with a surprised smile. His brow furrows slightly as you take a seat across from him at his desk, but he doesn’t say anything as you start to eat with him. Even just asking him how his day is going, you catch the smile on his face as he looks across to you, and then back down to his desk. You can’t see what he’s looking at, but whatever it is keeps him content until his phone rings.
He quickly apologizes like you were in the middle of a very important business meeting before answering with a, “Hey honey”. And you know it’s Penny on the other end. Smiling, he holds up a finger, telling you he’ll be back in a minute as you watch him leave his office. You turn back to his desk and only see the backs of what look to be a few picture frames littering the top. Funny. You don’t think you saw these when you helped him move his stuff in here a couple months ago. That being said, you haven’t been in here very often.
Turning back to the door, your dad’s voice faintly echoes down the hall with a laugh, and knowing you have a few minutes, you take a seat in his chair. Your eyes roam over his desk, his aviators sit in front of a Navy mug.There’s a few small models of previous jets he’s flown, you take note of the F-14 Tomcat, sitting right in front of a picture of him and Goose. Smiling at the frame of your and Bradley’s dads, your eyes trace to the others. A more recent picture of you at your Top Gun graduation, Iceman and your father flanking your sides as you triumphantly hold the trophy sits next to one of 7-year old you with Bradley at his piano recital. He was a lot better than you gave him credit for that day, and now you know all that hard work paid off. He can practically play any song you ask him to, and he makes use of that talent whenever he can at the Hard Deck. Penny even joked she should put a tip jar out for him.
There’s another picture of the two of them someone must have taken on the carrier right after their triumphant return during the Uranium Mission. Everyone is cheering in the background, and you even have a smile on your face. But you don’t remember feeling happy. You were relieved, of course. But it still doesn’t erase the hour of agony thinking they were dead. You move on to the next picture of yourself in a dirtied softball uniform, clinging on to Bradley’s back like a monkey as he walks you to the car after a long summer tournament. Your feet hurt so bad Bradley had offered to give you a piggy-back ride if you shared your popsicle with him. The red juices melted down your arm and onto his shirt, but he didn’t complain once.
The last picture is of Goose, Carole, and a tiny Bradley. You smile fondly as you pick up the frame and watch their smiling faces. Your dad told you once that it was one of the last pictures of them all together. God, Bradley looks so much like his dad. Your finger absentmindedly traces where Carole stands, and stops at the silver chain around her neck. A small butterfly pendant sits between her collarbones and a wave of guilt washes over you.
You weren’t brave like you promised her. At least you thought you weren’t. You held on to that necklace for the few years that you had it, but ultimately when Carole got sick, you couldn’t bear it anymore. She slept a lot toward the end, the medication making her tired. One night, you crept into her bathroom and put the necklace back in her jewelry box hoping she wouldn’t notice, or wouldn’t say anything to you. She never brought it up, so you assumed it was one of the two. But looking at it now you wish you would have kept it. Kept that little piece of her she so generously gave to you. Maybe that little reminder would have made it easier to keep going after her and Bradley left.
Placing the frame back in its place, you chew your lip. You grab your phone and before you can decide not to, you press the call button. It rings a couple times before someone answers in a cheery voice.
“Avila Clinic, how can I help you?”
“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment.”
-----------------------
Bob sits in silence the entire rest of lunch. He thought maybe you two would be civil toward each other. He also thought that last night meant you cared about him, but right now it doesn’t feel that way. The initial sting of you not sitting next to him today is gone. He gets it. But the fact that you didn’t even acknowledge him when he smiled at you? That hurt.
He’s so conflicted as he walks back to the classroom. Maybe you have your own things going on and this isn’t about him. But how could it not be? You two talked last night. You kissed for crying out loud. You asked him to and pulled him against you. God, he literally begged you to kiss him again and now he’s feeling embarrassed. Something he thought you would never make him feel. What hurts most of all is how he misses just being around you. As much as he loved kissing you, he loved being your friend. Listening to you talk, learning about your life. Everything was so easy. You never even had to try to make him like you, it was as simple as breathing.
He decides he can’t take any of this personally. Easier said than done, though. 
You don’t look in his direction the rest of the day. He doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head, but if you were looking at him he’s pretty positive he would have felt it. In fact, you’re pretty quiet, too. He’s hardly paying attention as Mav goes over everyone’s flights, but perks up when he mentions your name.
“Alright, Phoenix, Bob, and Mantis.” Your flights are brought up on the screen as well as what maneuvers you were practicing together. “Or as I like to call you guys; The Dream Team.” Phoenix breathes out a laugh to his left as Mav continues to praise you for your team work. Kind of ironic that you work so well as a team together even though he feels like he’s had not only his body, but his head in the clouds all day.
“So you three, give yourselves a pat on the back. Great job.” Phoenix turns to him first to give him a fist bump, then turns over to you. He turns with her and finally catches your eye as your smirk falters. He watches you clench your fist before offering it toward him, and with a forced smile his knuckles tap your own. There was no celebration to be had when all it does is create more awkward tension between the two of you. He used to relish in these little moments the two of you shared, but now knowing that you want absolutely nothing to do with him it only serves as a reminder for what he lost.
-----------------------
You’re quiet again as you head home with your dad. Guilt is eating you alive at the way Bob smiled at you today. It’s not real anymore. Nothing about it is genuine, and why would it be? You continue to create situations in which someone’s heart is going to get broken, and it always ends up being your own. This time there’s another casualty and you can’t stand it being Bob. He deserves so much more than that.
Your father is humming along to the radio while you stare out the window when your phone buzzes. AVILA CLINIC flashes on your screen and you’re quick to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is Tiffany from the Avila Clinic, am I speaking to Miss Mitchell?” The same cheery woman from earlier asks.
“Yes, this is she.”
“Hi Miss Mitchell. We spoke earlier about setting up an appointment a couple weeks from now on the fourth of October, but your therapist Mary had a sudden cancellation for tomorrow. I know you said you wanted to get in as soon as possible, does tomorrow at 4:00 pm Pacific Time work for you?”
“Yes”, you’re quick to agree, “Yes, that absolutely works for me.”
“Perfect. We’ll email you a Zoom link thirty minutes before your appointment.”
“Sounds great, thank you so much.” Hanging up the phone, your dad clears his throat, expectantly waiting for an explanation as to who that was.
“I have a zoom meeting at 4:00 tomorrow.” His brow raises as he urges you to continue. “It’s a therapy appointment-”, you try to ignore the way both his brows raise at the admission, “And it’s at the house, so I would really appreciate it if, ya know….”
“I get it, I get it”, he waves you off, “I’ll make myself scarce.” A weight is lifted from your chest as he continues driving. You know how men of his generation view therapy, but he himself has benefited from those services over the course of his life. In your own opinion you think he could benefit from some more, but, you really don’t think he’ll go for it unless he’s doing it for someone else.
“Thanks, dad.”
-----------------------
You didn’t expect it. You thought you were safe. Especially after last night of nothing, you went to bed naively thinking you could have a peaceful night’s sleep. Awaking with a choked gasp, you reach for your throat begging it to open up. Breath after breath gets a little easier, until the tears start and you just can’t stop. The dark does little to ease your racing mind.
It started normally, just a hazy dream of you walking down the street back in Ohio, stopping at a storefront and staring in the window. Your reflection is what set you off. It was you at first, you were able to identify little features that were your own, but then- It turned into her completely. You ran as fast as your feet would let you, but the only destination was your old house. Still, you tried to get as far away from her as possible, you couldn’t see her, but you could feel her not far behind you. Running up the stairs, you booked it to your room and slammed the door shut, holding your body against it so she couldn’t get in. She banged and screamed as hard and as loud as she could until it finally… stopped. It was silent as tears streamed down your face. Giving you a false sense of security, you stepped away from the door.
Holding your breath, you made it three steps away before the door flung itself open. You were already walking backwards when she pushed you into the wall, and head first you hit it. You must have started choking on your own tears in real time, and you imagine the lack of air is what caused you to wake up.
Even as you sit up in bed now, the thought that it was only a dream does nothing to reassure you. The room is too hot, and instead of making the same mistake of running to your bathroom, you tiptoe down the hall so as to not alert your father, and sit on the back porch. The cool September breeze blows over your sweat slicken skin as you breathe in… and out. In… and out. You’re still sobbing as quietly as you can, and you know it was a dream. Just a dream- this time.
You don’t tell your dad exactly what happened, but he knows. He was surprised to see you outside when he got up this morning, but you just told him you couldn’t get back to sleep so you sat out to see the sunrise. It was when he tried resting his hand on your shoulder and you flinched away that he knew you left some details out. Without him having to say a word, he gave you a look and you reassured him you were fine. You knew you weren’t, really. But the only thing keeping you going was the idea of getting up in the air, and the fact that you had therapy later today.
-----------------------
For the first time in a very long time, Bob wasn’t looking forward to going to work this morning. He felt like a kid dreading going to school again. But, he forced himself anyway, and now as he walks the halls, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to face another day where you completely ignore him. This isn’t the best way to deal with… whatever happened between you two, you must know that. Right? In the end no matter what you told him he was still going to be your friend, but you’re giving him the idea that you don’t want that.
He’s surprised to find you already in the classroom, your pen tapping at the sheet of maneuvers in front of you. No one else is there but the two of you, and he takes a minute to breathe in the silence that settles. Your mouth is twisted, you keep switching from chewing one side of your lip to the other. Your brow is furrowed to the point that there’s a sharp knot in your forehead. Whatever you’re looking at can’t possibly be that perplexing. You could fly each of these tasks with your eyes closed, and yet you look deep in thought. He opens his mouth to say something, taking a step forward at the same time, but a hand claps down on his shoulder as he does.
“Morning, Bob, Mantis”, Phoenix greets the two of you. You hum in acknowledgement but your eyes never leave your paper. Bob watches as she taps your knee with her hand. You quite literally jump at the movement, dropping your pen in the process as it rolls under his seat. “Hey, you ok there?”
“Yeah, sorry”, you rush out as your hand trembles. Bob can hear Phoenix ask if you’re sure, while he kneels on the floor to retrieve your pen. When he gets up, he’s still on his knees holding your pen out to you. Your hollow eyes look back at him as the two of you freeze, sharing a moment that feels stuck in time. A shaky hand extends to grab your pen from him, and it takes everything in him not to reach further and squeeze your hand. Letting you know he’s there.
“Thank you”, you practically whisper.
“Any time”, he responds just as softly. The rest of the squad enters the room as you tear your eyes away from his and look back to your papers. He watches as you continue what you were working on when he entered, but instead of your pen, your foot taps the floor.
You walk away too quickly once Maverick assigns you to the first flight of the day, but Bob knows something’s wrong. So he waits until it’s his and Phoenix’s turn, hoping to catch you out on the tarmac as you land, but you’re still in your cockpit as they walk past. He slows, feigning a loose shoelace as he urges Phoenix to keep going.
-----------------------
Your flight had done well to get your mind off of last night, but it’s still with a deep breath that you grip the ladder as you descend. Helmet in hand, you turn to make your way back inside and grab a needed drink of water.
“Mantis?” Bob's gentle voice has you looking up at him.
“Hi- Bob”, you respond, a little taken aback he was waiting for you. He keeps his distance as Fritz and Hangman walk past the two of you.
“Are you- are you doing ok?”
“Yeah”, you clear your throat, “I’m doing ok.” It feels like his sapphire eyes can see right through you as you shift on your feet. You can lie all you want, but you know he can tell. It’s his turn to shift on his feet as he blinks rapidly before realizing what he needs to say.
“I know it might be hard, but you can still talk-”
“Bob!”, Phoenix yells from her ladder, “It’s go time!” Lost in his train of thought, He struggles to find the words as he clenches his helmet in his hand.
“Bob, I’m ok.” He’s hesitant as Phoenix yells his name again, pointing at her watch this time.
“If you say so”, he nods as you stare at your feet. With one last look at your shifting eyes, he jogs over to Phoenix who is beginning to grow even more impatient. You watch him climb into his seat before trudging back to the hangar where Rooster waits at the door.
“Don’t say anything.”
“Wasn’t gonna.” You roll your eyes as he walks behind you. He still doesn’t know that you know about his little date Wednesday night. You continue to bite your tongue as you sit across from him in the ready-room.
-----------------------
After another lunch-date with your dad in his office, you do your best to avoid both Rooster and Bob. And thank goodness all of you are being let out early today, or you wouldn’t be able to sit through another hour of going over everyone else’s flights.
“Alright, that’s everything I have for today. Depending on weather conditions on Monday, we may not have you come in, but I’ll keep you posted. Stay safe this weekend everyone.” Checking your watch, it reads 3:00, only an hour before your session which leaves you a little anxious. But after last night you are more than ready to get the help you need.
You’re out of the class room before everybody else, and soon enough gathering your stuff from your locker. Phoenix stops you before you can get out the door and to your dad’s office to wait for him.
“Hey! Floyd was looking for you.” You try your best to not look surprised at the notion, but you can feel your face contort in confusion.
“Oh, is he-”, you motion to the door of the locker room, asking if he’s waiting for you outside.
“No, he had to go. But”, reaching into her pocket, she grabs something and holds it out for you, “He did tell me to give you this.” And in between her fingers, Phoenix holds a penny. The sight of an object so abundantly common as a coin has you holding your breath. You have seen so many pennies throughout your life, but who this one came from means so much more to you than any other has. Swallowing, you reach out and gingerly take it from her hands, as if it would break if you dropped it. Strangely, you can feel your face heat up at the notion. That’s what he was trying to tell you earlier. He’s still ready and willing to listen if you need to talk.
 “Is this some kind of weird inside joke between the two of you or did he really just owe you one cent?” You grip the copper coin as if it were his own hand reaching out to you, and place it in your pocket.
“No”, you laugh, “it’s just something Bob does.” Her brow raises as she stares at you with a weary eye. Obviously not understanding what’s so funny about it.
-----------------------
As if you couldn’t be more anxious for this zoom, your dad was held up by both Cyclone and Warlock when you got to his office. There’s only 20 minutes before your meeting when you get home, so unlike what you had planned you can’t take a shower beforehand. Still needing to change out of your flight suit, you put on a random shirt and jeans that were lying around your cluttered room. You glance at your own watch, 3:55. Before you forget, you run downstairs to find your dad putting his tennis shoes on.
“Hey”, you grab his attention as he looks up from the couch, “I just thought I’d let you know my meeting’s about to start in like five minutes so…”
“Don’t even worry about me”, he reassures you, “I’ll be outside doing yard work the entire time. Might as well do it now before I can’t do it this weekend.” Smiling, he gets up with his sneakers on and gives you a wink before shutting the front door behind him.
Popping your earbuds in, you open your laptop. Your palms are sweating as you click on the link in your email. A blank screen pops up with a small wheel telling you it’s loading, and then you see her. Mary. Your first and only therapist. The first person you ever told your deep dark secrets to. Bob being the second and only other. She speaks your name softly as you smile at the warmness in her tone. It takes you back to when you were only a student, having no idea how to traverse the world without the proper support.
“It’s good to see you”, her honey voice greets you.
“It’s good to see you, too”, you nod. You notice that even through the camera, she’s letting her gray hair take over what was mostly a thick and lucious black when you first met her. There’s a few more crinkles around her eyes that you find when she smiles at you, but it’s still like greeting an old friend.
“So how’s it going, how have you been?”
“Um”, you laugh awkwardly, “Things could be better.”
“Ok, why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you reached out.” Breathing out a shaky breath you start talking. You tell her about the dreams returning, the panic attacks, how you didn’t know where you were when you were gone for hours. She takes diligent notes the entire time, nodding and assuring you she’s listening.
“So let me ask you a question; do you know what triggered these nightmares? Did something happen?” You think back to the night you kissed Bob and before you can even get butterflies, the image of your mother in your dream pops the bubble. Taking a leap of faith and a deep breath all in the same beat, you turn back to the camera.
“This is all in confidence, right?” She sighs your name before answering.
“You know it is. Unless what you did put other people or yourself in harm’s way then we are fine to discuss it without me telling anyone.” Taking out one earbud, you can still hear your dad with the lawnmower, so you continue.
“I kissed someone. Twice. It was after the first time that I had a nightmare.”
“I’m not seeing the problem here.”
“He’s on my squadron. And there is a pretty strict no fraternization rule.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah. So I broke a rule, made him break a rule. And I guess I just feel so guilty about it. And I did something wrong, which is why I had the dream.”
“And you had the second dream after the second kiss?”
“Not the night of. I didn’t get a lot of sleep because I was scared of it happening again. But last night was the second one. It was…terrifying. I didn’t think they were gonna come back. And I just blew up on everyone the first time around. My dad, Bradley-”
“Wait, Bradley as in, the Bradley that you grew up with?”
“That’s the one.”
“And you just see him regularly now? I mean I was looking through all your old notes and you were still pretty upset with him. Does time really heal all wounds?” You chuckle at her sarcasm.
“No, not really. It was awkward at first. But I hardly talked to him while we were working on the special detachment. After it was over, it looked like he made up with my dad, and we were made a permanent squadron. That’s when it started going downhill. Long story short, we were just kind of bickering, not really talking about the elephant in the room. He ended up saying something, I had a panic attack, then I punched him, then he started-”
“Wait, wait, wait- You punched him? I am going to need the long version of the story here. We don’t do short stories in therapy.” So you explain. Everything. How your little comments started to quickly cut deeper, how he told you to be careful before your drinking contest, and all the little warnings after the fact. And then the devastating moment where he betrayed your trust completely, leading to Bob comforting you at one of your lowest moments. And then of course, when you punched him, and how he’s been trying to get on your good side ever since, how he claims he thought you were calling to brag. As if he didn’t know what your mother was like.
“Wow. That’s a lot.” You nod in agreement. “How has it been with him since?”
“It’s so weird. He’s tried to do a complete 180, and claims he’s watching out for me. He was actually at the party, the one where I kissed- um…”
“You don’t have to say his name, it’s ok.”
“My teammate”, you find the courage to finish.
“This is a lot to process in such a short amount of time. How have you been handling it?” You scoff at just how many times you’ve had panic attacks and cried within the last month.
“Not well. Which is why I thought I should reach out.”
“I’m glad you did. I wish that therapy was a one and done kind of situation, but it’s going to take some time. Are you ready for that kind of commitment again? I know it got busy last time, and with deployments it was hard. But are you ready to put in the work?” You sigh and silently nod your head, biting your lip to avoid speaking with a frog in your throat.
“Well I hate to say this, but I think your dreams may be happening for a different reason than they did way back when they first started.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you came to me such a short time after the abuse stopped.” You try not to flinch at the word, but instinctively shut your eyes when she says it. “ When you stopped seeing her you were scared she was going to come back and find you. Now, I think your brain is reliving some memories to punish yourself. Because you feel guilty. And the fact that you see parts of her in you is making you resent yourself even more. Making you push people away before they can do the same to you.” Huh, you think.
“Does that resonate with you at all?” You laugh because it’s the only thing you can do at the moment. She hit the damn nail on the head.
“Yeah. Yeah it does.”
“Next time if you have a dream, here’s what I want you to do: I want you to find at least five things about yourself that are completely different from your mom. It can be little things in the way you look, the way you act, or anything. Because you are different. You aren’t her.” Your eyes sting at the influx of tears, and you lean your head back to stop them from falling.
“Ok, I know this was a pretty heavy session, so I want to end it on a higher note. I would like you to tell me at least three people in your life right now that make you feel loved, special, or wanted.” You shake your head, physically trying to put your mentality in a different spot than where it was at with your mother. Reaching for a tissue, you dab the straggling tears that threaten to fall.
“Um- ok. My dad, my friend Natasha”, you list out, still thinking about a third person. You can’t help that the third person your mind is pushing you to say is also the one person you’ve been trying to avoid thinking about. But it’s true. He makes you feel special and so wanted it’s kind of overwhelming, “And my friend Bob.”
-----------------------
With a deep breath you close your laptop and take out your ear buds. Your room feels stuffy all of a sudden, like all your thoughts and feelings are trapped into the sealed box. You stride across the room to open your window, and you hear your dad talking to someone. Then the snap of what you only know as a baseball hitting a glove echoes across the house. Unfortunately for your snoopy personality right now, your window faces the side of the neighbors, so you descend the stairs and look through the window in the living room.
The weather is surprisingly warm and sunny for a day before a storm. Perfect weather for spending outside you suppose. Your dad stands at one end of the yard, throwing the ball as you follow the line to the glove worn by, of course, Rooster. All of these old feelings came to life when you had to talk about him and everything else that has been happening for the past hour. When thinking about everyone who makes you feel loved, special, and wanted, Rooster did not make the cut. In fact, he has made you feel unwanted, unloved, and unimportant for the past 10 years. He threw you away like you were nothing, and even if he did apologize, it doesn’t take away the hurt that he left you with. But here he is. Throwing a baseball around with your dad like he didn’t avoid him for the last 16 years.
You huff out a breath before opening the front door, and plastering on a fake smile. If you were going to talk to him now was as good a time as any. You kind of feel bad for him, he had no idea he was walking into when he came over today. 
“Hey dad”, you squint through the fading sun as the two men look your way.
“Oh hey kiddo! How was your… meeting?”
“It was good, very”, you turn and squint slightly more at Rooster who tosses the ball up and back into his hand, “enlightening.”
“That’s good. Rooster here just popped over with a box of some old things, and we found our baseball gloves.”
“I can see that. Mind if I have a go?” He tries not to look as surprised as he feels by your request, but starts taking off his glove as you walk over to him.
“Sure.” You take the warm leather glove, slipping it onto your hand as you adjust to the feeling. Slapping the worn palm, you flap it a couple times in Rooster’s direction as he tosses it at you. Not throws. Tosses. Catching it in your bare hand, you raise your brow at him.
“Really?”
“What?”
“You act like we weren’t taught to throw a ball by the same person”, you note as you hook your thumb to your dad standing just to the side. “Throw it like you mean it.” Rolling the ball a couple times in your hand, you grip it and throw the fading white ball straight at Bradley’s chest. He manages to catch it with little time to spare, obviously underestimating just how hard you can throw. He glances over to your dad with wide eyes as he shrugs back with a smile. A hint of pride in his features. Rooster looks back at you while you open and close your glove a couple times.
“You sure you can handle it?” You roll your eyes at his assumption. Either he thinks too highly of his throwing ability, or way too low of your ability to catch a damn ball.
“Yes. I’ve handled a lot worse that you’ve thrown my way, so-”, you flap the glove once more, “try me.”
Rooster winces at the insinuation. But he gives up holding back, not all the way quite yet, but he throws it back with some of the power he was using with your dad. You continue throwing and catching the ball as your dad watches on with a warm smile.
“Alright”, he comments, “Looks like you two are doing fine, so I’m gonna go finish mowing the lawn.” He heads through the gate to the backyard as Rooster gets finished catching your last throw to him. Rooster takes the ball into his hand to throw back, but hesitates before putting it back in his glove.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know”, he responds as if pondering the question himself, “You’ve just got this look in your eye.” He winds up, and you catch the ball as he throws it at your chest. Mirroring his earlier action, you roll the ball around in your palm as you contemplate your next move.
“I’ve always got that look in my eye. If I don’t have it, that means something’s wrong.” You throw it back the tiniest bit harder, but Rooster does well to mask his surprise at the force. He’s still got that hint of suspicion on his face, but otherwise ignores it and is about to throw the ball back before you speak up.
“Oh, there is one thing”, you laugh without any real humor, “How was your date with Emily?” The ball slips from his hand as he attempts to throw it at you, causing it to fly up in the air before landing and rolling to your feet. His mouth opens and closes before he finally decides to say something as you raise an eyebrow at him.
“It was- it was- Where’d you hear about that?” Stepping forward, you pick up the ball.
“For an old man who means well, my dad can’t keep a secret to save his life.”
“I-”, he stands with his hands on his hips, confusion written on his face. There is no way you were supposed to know about this, and now he’s been caught. It feels good for a fraction of a second. “It wasn’t a secret.” He says as he kicks the grass. He reminds you of that little boy you once knew, getting in trouble and trying to hide his guilt. But before you stands the grown man who still can’t handle the consequences of his own actions.
“I just can’t believe you Rooster.” You throw the ball back to him as he looks up. Hard. It pushes the glove back into his chest and his lips twist into a grimace.
“For what? Going on a date?”, his voice raises the slightest bit as he throws it back to you. Just as hard. The only difference being you were ready for it.
“Not for that you idiot. For going on a date with her!”.
“What’s wrong with her?” Without meaning to, your jaw drops as you look around the street of your neighborhood. Your dad’s lawnmower is still going in the backyard as you turn to him.
“Are you kidding me? Rooster, it was your idea to set her up with Bob, and after she laughed in his face you decided to stick your tongue down her throat in the middle of the party and then what? Ask her out?”
“Ok, she kissed me. And it obviously wasn’t going to work out between the two of them! Why are you so upset about this?”
“Because even if she supposedly didn’t know she was being set up with Bob, you did! I mean, what the hell kind of wingman are you? But you know what?”, you decide as you throw the ball back to him, closer to his face this time, “You two assholes deserve each other.” The ball lands in his glove as he’s quick to catch it just below his chin.
“Whoa. Hold on. You’re kind of being an asshole right now.”
“Are not”, you huff.
“Are too”, he mimics.
“How am I the one being an asshole for trying to defend my friends?”
“Uh-un. Friend. Singular. And you’re being a little too defensive for someone you claim is just your friend.” You swallow, glancing to the gate leading to the backyard, the hum from the lawnmower still going. There’s not a chance he could have heard what he said, but you’re still paranoid nonetheless. Rooster’s winding up as you look back at him, giving you barely enough time to catch the ball right in front of your face. You’d be lying if you said your hand didn’t sting from the force of his throw.
“Keep your voice down”, you grit in his direction. He just shakes his head.
“So I’m right then”, he scoffs. “You just don’t learn, do you?” You snap back to him as his lip lifts. As if he knows something more than you. He couldn’t be more condescending if he tried.
“Learn what?”, you snap, “Don’t act like you’re not doing this for any other reason than to rid yourself of whatever guilt you have left.” You grunt, throwing the ball as hard as you can as he catches it with ease. Almost as if you’re playing catcher, he plays his part as pitcher beautifully, winding up even more than before, throwing the ball back to you almost immediately. The ball snaps in the glove you hold up in front of your face.
“That guilt will live with me for the rest of my life.” The draw of his brows beneath the beating sun tells you he’s angry. Maybe not with you, but it’s still anger either way, and it has to be let out somehow. “So if I can stop you from making a mistake, keep you from breaking your heart even more than I have, I will do whatever it takes.” Oh you’re angry now. You throw the ball with everything you have back at him. You are not some dumb kid like he was when he left. You’ve been through enough to have grown up younger than you should have.
“If you really cared about how I felt- or how anybody other than yourself felt that for that matter, you wouldn’t set someone up with a woman who is so obviously wrong for him. And then”, you laugh, “after she’s embarrassed him you wouldn’t kiss her in front of him and go on a damn date with her!” He only shakes his head at the ground before gripping the baseball in his right hand, rolling it around.
“I set him up to try and stop you from making a mistake. I was doing it to protect you!” The sound of a dog barking has you whipping your head to the street to your left. It sounds almost identical to Sylvia but you can’t seem to find the source of the noise. Your heart beats a little faster at the thought of him taking her for a walk nearby. That would be such god-awful timing. The thought of him possibly walking Sylvia down your street has you too rattled, and you’re slightly disappointed with yourself.
The searing pain hits you before the ball even falls to the ground, as you do with it.
“Jesus Christ!”, you scream as you fall to your back, cradling the side of your face the baseball hit.
“Oh shit! Oh my god- are you ok?”, Rooster appears on his knees right next to you, brown eyes wide as you’ve ever seen them as he grimaces along with you. The glove is just big enough for you to be able to throw it off of your hand, hitting him in the chest as you writhe on the freshly cut grass. You can’t help it as the hot tears slide out of your eyes, the pain too much.
“Hey, hey you’re fine! Don’t cry, please don’t cry!”, he pleads as you try to open your eyes long enough to glare at him.
“You hit me in the face with a fucking baseball of course I’m going to fucking cry!”, you scream. “You IDIOT!”
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I thought you were looking!” You glare at him through your uncovered eye as his hands hover over you. “Ok, are you bleeding? Lemme see.” You glare as hard as you can at him as he backs away. The pulse emanating from the side of your face is stopping you from feeling anything else, but you’re pretty sure that liquid sliding down your face are just stray tears that refuse to stay put.
“Ok, that’s fine. Um-”, he panics as you beg yourself to stop crying in front of him. “Alright, I’m gonna go get some ice, stay right here.” And before you have the mind to make a smart comment about going anywhere, your hands reach out and wrap around his ankle. The unexpected movement causes his weight to shift forward, giving him no time to brace himself as he falls to the ground. It doesn’t relieve any pain, but it feels good to watch him face plant onto the grass. There was still so much to say, too much you feel as though you can’t even get out your feelings through your words.
“Hey, what the hell?!”, he turns over as you grab your discarded glove.
“You were protecting me?!”. He does his best to dodge your blows, but it’s no use as he puts his hands up to protect himself and his stupid face. With the glove in both your hands, you whack at his torso. “I have been taking care of myself since I was 12!”, you grunt as you continue to hit him. “I am a grown woman! I don’t need to be lectured by anybody, especially not you!”
“I’m sorry, just stop!”, it’s obviously more of a nuisance than actually hurting him, but you are in so much pain right now you just want to get him back anyway you can. He attempts to crawl away on his back, but you stop him by sitting on his stomach, causing him to grunt at the unexpected weight.
“HEY!”, you pause at the sound of your dad’s voice, arms lifted in the air mid-blow. Rooster is still covering his face with his arms as he turns to look at your dad. “What is going on?!” Your arms are still in the air as the two of you look at each other before attempting to speak over one another.
“He started it!” “It was an accident!”, you yell at the same time. The sound of his voice has you looking down at the audacity of the man you are currently pinning to the grass.
“Why would you throw a ball at someone who isn’t looking?!”
“I thought you were!”, he’s quick to defend himself. You catch his gaze soften as his eyes shift to the right side of your face where he hit you with the ball.
“Inside, now!”, he orders as you and Rooster scramble to your feet. He walks ahead of you as your dad trails behind you. “Good afternoon Mrs. Callahan!” You turn to find your neighbor walking her goldendoodle just across the street, eyeing the state of all three of you that your dad doesn’t try to hide. One of the biggest differences between your parents. Your mother would have walked you delicately into the house pretending everything was under control and just fine. Until she closed the door. Your dad on the other hand, he knows things aren’t under his control and he doesn’t try to hide it. He’s not trying to keep up some image. It’s easy when you don’t care what other people think.
The dog barks once more before your dad ushers you inside.
He urges the two of you to sit on the couch as he runs to grab the first-aid kid, and you take one side begrudgingly as Rooster takes the other. Your face is starting to throb, but once you look down at your jeans you notice the grass and dirt stains on not only your knees, but your hands as well. You’re sure the back of them look the same, as do Rooster’s clothes.
Your dad sits on the coffee table before you, leaning forward as his hand gently moves your face so he can examine it. He tuts as you’re forced to look over at Rooster, who as you expected, is covered in grass stains as he twiddles with his thumbs. You can’t help but wonder why he’s still listening to your dad, it’s not like when you were younger and he was left in charge of the two of you. He can leave if he wants to.
“Well”, your dad starts as he reaches for the gauze, “It’s not bleeding too bad…” Huh, so you guess some of that liquid was blood. “Probably from the stitching”, he talks to himself as you wince from the pressure he’s applying.
“It’s gonna leave a nice bruise, though”, Wordlessly you push his hand away and apply the pressure yourself as he eyes you once before looking at the man on the other end of the couch.
“You ok Rooster?”
“‘M fine”, he mumbles back.
“Good”, he says as he rounds the coffee table. “Cause what the hell is going on? Huh? I left for two minutes!” He takes one hand off of his hips to point at the two of you, ready to go into a rant before his phone rings from where he left it in the kitchen. Glancing between the pair of you and back to the kitchen he slides a dirty hand down his face.
“Wait right here”, he demands pointing at the two of you before locating the source of the ringing. The only thing you can hear is the muffled sound of your dad talking on the phone, and the slight shift of Rooster on the other end of the couch.
“I’m really sorry-”
“Just-”, you cut Rooster off, “shut up.” He’s quiet for a second. Just a second. Before he decides he’s not going to listen to you.
“I got a concussion from getting hit in the head with a ball”, he comments as you roll your eyes. As if you could have forgotten. “Mom took me to the ER just in case, and as per usual, she was right.”
“I know, Rooster”, you interrupt him. “I was there. It was the summer you were on that comp baseball team.”
“I know you were. I just wanna remind you in case you feel like brushing this one off.”
“I’m not-”, you scoff, “What makes you think I’m gonna ‘brush this one off’?” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck.
“I just remember you always saying when you got hurt that it wasn’t a big deal. Concussions are kind of a big deal.”
“I know- I’ve had one.” His brow furrows as he turns to face you, concern written into the creases in his forehead.
“Wait- when did you have one?” Your face turns hot as you realize you’ve revealed more than you would have liked to.
“I don’t know”, you shrug as you try to avoid his gaze, ”I was like 14.”
“Well what happened?” Taking away the gauze from your face, there’s a small line of blood, but nothing else. You trade it out for the icepack on the table and gently press it to where you’re hurting.
“I fell into a wall”, you tell him as you focus on the sting it brings to your cheek.
“You just fell into a wall?”
“Yeah- I tripped over something in my room.” It’s quiet for a moment as he mulls over what he’s about to say.
“Did you fall or were you pushed?” The color drains from your face as you clench your jaw. How dare he? You turn to face him, dropping both hands into your lap so he has to look at your entire face. Look at what he did.
“No. You don’t get to do this. You don’t just get to pick and choose when you’re loyal or protective. You left, Rooster. You knew what was going on and you still decided to leave. So whatever happened after I didn’t see you for 16 years, you don’t deserve to know.” He’s quiet as his eyes soften at you.
“And as for Bob-”, you clear your throat, “He’s my friend. And I will defend any of my friends. That included you at one point. I did in fact. I defended you when Hangman made his stupid comments, but now you’re the one who keeps running his mouth, and- and hanging around people who think it’s fine to be so blatantly rude. So you know what, Emily might just be perfect for you.” His mouth opens and closes before he thinks better than to say anything.
“As far as I’m concerned, you don’t owe me anything and I don’t want anything from you. So stop thinking you’re protecting me when all you do is keep reminding me of everything I have lost and can’t have.” He’s actually quiet now, you think you  have stunned him into a complete silence. This may just be the time for him to listen, so you’re gonna say what you’ve been wanting to say for a long time.
“When your mom died- I wasn’t just grieving for her. I-“, your throat starts to close up but you push through it anyway, “you left. You left and I never heard from you again and I had to grieve for someone who wasn’t even dead. He chose to leave and never come back. And I know that you were hurting, but so was I.” He clears his throat as you listen to your dad finishing up his conversation. The ice pack crinkles as you press it against your face once more. It really does fucking hurt. “So please, just once, think of how your actions affect anybody else but yourself.”
He doesn’t bother saying anything else. What else is there to say? A sorry won’t even make a difference anymore. He’s said it too many times for the words to have meaning when they leave his lips. You watch his adam's apple bob before deciding you don’t want to look at him even more. The only thing you can hear is the faint sound of your dad from the kitchen, tying up the end of his phone call. Then you’re almost sure you can hear Bradley sniffle before he abruptly stands, staring at his hands.
“I’m gonna go. There are a couple things for you in that box”, he motions to the cardboard rectangle sitting on the coffee table. He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. “If you keep getting headaches that won’t go away- just please go get checked out. I uh-”, this is the first time in a long time you’ve seen him so nervous he can’t find his words. One of the last times was speaking at Carole’s funeral, and your eyes can’t help but tear up at the parallel. “Mantis- I don’t want to hurt you. But I know I already did, so I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry”, he whispers his apology before heading to the front door. Your dad is walking in just as he leaves.
“Where’s Rooster?”
“He had to go”, you say with a clogged throat. He stands with his hands on his hips, perplexed at the entire situation.
“Well- do I need to talk to him?”
“No”, the words fall from your lips, “It’s fine.” He catches the far-off look in your eyes as you stare at the cardboard box on the table.
“Hey”, he almost whispers to get your attention. You look up with unshed tears in your eyes. “Are you ok?” It hurts to swallow as you try your best not to break the barrier of crying.
“It just hurts”, you explain, not entirely sure what part you’re talking about. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you stand before you let him talk. “I’m gonna go lie down. I’ve had a long day.” With a skeptical eye he lets you go, but not before sending you with the ice pack and letting you know he’d be up to check on you.
Once your back is turned and you’ve made it up the last steps, the first of many tears fall without much trying. You turn the shower on instead of lying in bed, deciding to do something somewhat productive. And once out you try your best not to look in the mirror, but catch sight of your cheek. It’s already swollen, an undertone of purple creeping out from the tiny cut from the stitching of the ball.
After getting into bed you stare at the ceiling, letting the day sink in. You lie there for a moment, trying to quiet your thoughts in order to let you sleep, but they’re too loud. Turning over, you stare at your bedside table. A framed picture you keep of you and Carole sits next to your phone. You can almost hear her laugh through the glossy finish of the photo, but you see Bradley in her smile through and through. A tear slides across your face and lands on your pillow, darkening the fabric. And you let it happen. You let the next one happen, too. And then you don’t stop yourself from crying.
Letting the rest out, you fold your knees to your chest and allow yourself to cry. You cry for Carole, for how much you miss her and how much life she missed out on. And you cry for Bradley. Even if he did hurt you, you cry because you miss him, too. And you cry because you wish you were brave. You wish you had the courage to say something to someone when you were younger. And even now, you cry because you wish you had the strength to look Bob in the eye and say- anything. Get past your own fears of rejection and punishment, and let him know that you see him for what he is. A good person, who deserves everything and more. And you know someday he’ll find someone who is more than eager to give that to him. Even if you already are, it can't be you.
Taglist:
@lemmons1998
@itsmytimetoodream
@theamuz
@harrysgothicbitch
@mygyn
@luckyladycreator2
@marve2014
@wretchedmo
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@hunbomb
@nerdgirljen
@knight-of-the-doctor
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powermakar · 1 year ago
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Hiii, can you do dating Oscar Piastri headcanons please?
Dating Him... OP81
A/N: someone sent this to me over 2 months ago (I am very sorry for the delay). I've been supper busy with school and have been suffering from writers block but I was finally able to figure out some stuff this morning, so enjoy!!
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He is such a sucker for forehead kisses 
And occasionally being the little spoon
Not into pda but when you two are walking next to each other he will make sure your hands touch every so often
But when you do hold hands in public he’s always giving little squeezes 
His little language for “I love you”
Never uses pet names like babe, love, etc.
But he finds a nickname with in your name that ONLY he calls you
Oscar loves to spend time with you
Whether it be watching a moving together
Asking each other the stupidest questions
Or even just being in the same room as you
MATCHING BRACELETS 
He also gets you a necklace with his initials on it (not because he owns you, because he really knows you)
He 100% has your coffee order down pat and will surprise you with coffee at any given moment
He's not a big flower guy
He would rather build the Lego flower sets with you 
But he gets you flowers very often anyways
Many inside jokes 
Even in a room full of people he can find your eyes and easily makes you blush with just a look
PAPER RINGS
Every time you guys go out to eat, he can’t help but to make a ring out of the straw wrappers
He gets flushed when other drivers talk about you
Not because he’s embarrassed of you
He's just so in love with you that the grid makes fun of him constantly
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117luv · 1 year ago
Text
THE PARENT TRAP — LHS | CHAPTER 16
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synopsis: jungwon and ni-ki met each other at a summer camp and found out they were fraternal twins. this leads to events where the two ex-lovers, heeseung and yn, are reunited after 14 years by their children.
genre: exes to lovers, smau, fluff
pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader
warnings: cursing, poor attempts in humor, grammatical errors, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, miscommunication
taglist: CLOSED!
a/n: hey loves! im BACK again with a new update and my writer's block is slowly fading away and i just finished my exams few days ago. damn almost 2 months since my last update? i sincerely apologize for everyone that has been waiting but rest assured, im planning to finish this smau this month (hopefully i actually do this) ne ways enjoy this chapter and love yall <3
masterlist | previous | next
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The date was decent, to say the least. The guy was nice enough to go on a blind date for the sake of his grandmother being worried about him and his love life. In order to ease her worries, he decided to go through with the date. They talked about their personal lives, such as how he wanted to start a small flower business near a school where his first love was working, while she talked about not standing up on this date as a sign of respect for him. She had also mentioned that her twin boys pushed her to go despite her initial disagreement. They had a lot of fun swapping stories, but Heeseung saw this as the two of them enjoying the date, which might lead to a deeper relationship in the future. His heart felt a tug, but at the end of the day, all he wanted was for her to be happy, even if he wasn't the reason for her smile. After all, she deserves everything this world has to offer.
Time came quickly, and after 2 hours of talking, they swapped goodbyes, and he offered to ride her home, which she declined because someone would be fetching her. She texted Heeseung to fetch her at the restaurant. As he received the message, he quickly drove to the front of the restaurant, where she was waiting for him. He opened the door for her and went back to drive her back home. The ride home was silent in comparison with their usual chat whenever they are alone. He just seemed off to her, but she can't pinpoint what the exact reason was for his demeanor. After a few minutes, she asked him to stop in an empty parking lot, which he complied with easily.
After he stopped the car, she asked him, "What's wrong, Heeseung?" to which he replied with a short response of "I'm okay, don't worry about me," but she wasn't satisfied with his answer. She explained that he was acting different after he fetched her, but he kept brushing off the fact that he was just tired. Her persistence never stopped, and he angrily told her, "Fine, I'm jealous. I saw you two in the restaurant laughing and having fun, and I felt jealous. For the longest time, I still love you. My feelings for you never changed after so many years. I tried to forget you and ventured to date a few years ago, but they will never be you. I longed for you, Yn. But seeing you smiling and laughing with other men made me feel that perhaps you have indeed moved on and I should move on as well." He kept talking, but she gave him a kiss to silent him.
The kiss felt like electricity running through their skin; it felt like their first kiss all over again. A kiss that is full of love, in which he responded back with a more firm kiss back towards her, filled with longing. He had longed for her for so many years, and the kiss proved it. After a few minutes, she pulled away to take a breath. She stared at his face as she examined his reaction. Before he could even respond, she spoke up. "I love you too, Heeseung. No need to be jealous over a man like him. We just talked about him wanting to build a small flower shop near the school where his first love was working. I even talked about you and the boys to him. He opened my eyes and made me realize that all I ever want is to be with you and our boys. I won't want to change any of that; I have longed for you. I want you back in my life, my love," she said as she placed a firm kiss on his lips.
He was too speechless to respond to anything, but he hugged her tightly in his embrace. He can't believe that the woman he always loved still loved him after so many years, and it wasn't a one-sided feeling the entire time. He started the car again and told her that they would be going to their old hangout spot. He wanted some alone time with her before they went back home. They stopped in a small park where they had always gone when they were teenagers. A night spent with her was all he needed to feel at ease. After all, his home has always been hers.
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taglist [CLOSED] : @yangwaa @emikisses @yohanabanana @arizejkt19 @skuwu-blog @beatr2x @svarcq @softiehee @enhastolemyheart @deobitifull @emxshu @bucketofhiros @lost-leopard-beanie @soobin-my-beloved @azurez @flwrshee @beomgyusonlywife @lalalalawon @yanagisprettygf @astrae4 @myjaeyunn @sesame-street-lol @yumilovesloona @omgjwon @yoonjunshi @wannatinyus @yeahhemmings- @coupscheri @neozon3nha @mevalemadrws @wonyoungsvirus @ilvsoup @dneltrise @chirokookie @noascats @sxftiell @onionzzzs @nokacchan @i-yeseo @02zluvbot @iamliacamila @en-happiness @nicholasluvbot @ilovewonyo @ddazed-lhs @enhaz1 @tobiosbbyghorl @youmenotyummy @minhoie @beoms-sugar
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mettaloverxx · 7 months ago
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I AM GAY FOR UNDERFELL METTATON AND I NEED TO BE FED. PLEASE FEED ME /NF. YOU DONT HAVE TO. I JUST. I GOT SO DESPERATE A COUPLE MONTHS AGO THAT I LOOKED ON QUOTEV. I HAVENT BEEN ON QUITEV IN YEARS.
You came to the right place. I love fell metta very much as well! The lack of content for him is sad. But that's what I'm here for! [When I'm not lazy ofc- jghhgnf] now let's see here, how about some fluff?? It might be a little short due to writers block but i hope you enjoy anyway!
Warnings: none
Did not Proof read
Note: readers nickname for fellmetta is bug/ lovebug I do this for all fanfics I write for him ❤️
Mettafell x reader
🍓Strawberry kisses 💋
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You sat on the couch listening to music. It's been a very slow and boring day. ever since metta left this morning for work, it feels like time is going 10× slower. You yawn softly and pick up your phone, and look at your previous text messages from earlier today with mettafell. Even though he was always busy with all the shows, concerts, plays, etc. He always somehow made time to text you little updates or to check up on you. But today, he wasn't texting you as much, feeling a little worried you decided to send him a text asking him how's everything was going. But before you could press, send you hear the front door opening you look over at the door and you see mettafell walk in. You smile and get up and make your way over to him. "Bug! I was just thinking about you! how did work go?" You wrap your arms around him into a loving hug, then look up at him
You immediately knew something was off by the way his face looked. Bug was good at hiding things due to being an actor, but sense you are so close to him, you've gotten good at reading him. You frowned softly. "I guess it was a bad day, huh?.." mettafell gently wraps his lower set of arms around you, returning the affection. "A bad day would be an understatement, darling. Ugh, it was...HORRENDOUS.." He let go of the hug and starts walking to the living room," the monster that I was supposed to be interviewing for my show canceled out at the last minute, someone put stains on my favorite outfit that absolutely won't come out!, There's an advid theft in the resort that keeps stealing expensive merchandise..and I'm not going to even talk about what type of magazine I caught burger pants reading on shift..." He does a robotic sigh and continues talking about his day while grabbing his spare charger by the couch he sits down and plugged himself in. You stayed quiet as you were listening to him and followed him to the living room. He looks over at you and says, "But never mind that darling, I need to charge. I'm very low on power. Give me an hour or two rest, yes?"
You gently sat down by him, watching his still body as he charged. It saddened you that he had a bad day. Maybe there was something you can do to make it a little better? You ponder for a moment before getting up and going into the kitchen with a smile on your face. you knew exactly what to do.
~
Mettafell powers back on. his body makes a soft, humming noise as he looks around, he doesn't see you. He was thinking you were upstairs, but then he hears running water in the kitchen, so he unplug himself and walks over to the kitchen he sees you washing a pan. "Hello darling, what are you getting ready to cook?" He says as he stepped closer to you. You stop washing the pan and turn around to look at him. How did you not hear him walk in? "Oh! Hi bug, I didn't know you were up already, I got you a gift," you said as you walked over to the fridge and took out a tray of chocolate covered strawberries and walked over to him. "I wanted to make you something special since you didn't have a good day. I know strawberries are your favorite, so I hope you like these"
Mettafell looks down at you, then the strawberries. It took him a minute to process this. You made his favorite desert for him. just because he had a bad day??? What?? His internal fans turn on "oh..sweetheart it looks wonderful." His eyes soften as he looks down at you and puts his hand under your chin to make you look up at him. He leans down and kisses your lips softly. You kissed him back, and it all felt like time went still, shortly after mettafell pulls away from the kiss and smiled his toothy fang grin. "Let's share them together, sweetie, we should continue watching those old human horror you were showing me to"
Your face was slightly warm, and you smile "ok love bug, I'll find a movie for us to watch tonight." You walk into the living room, and mettafell follows
You and bug spend the rest of the night sharing the sweet strawberries and watching movies together ❤️
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