#we moved on too quickly from the red string of fate

[orangesyellow]

@userdramas event 10: emotions "On this day, this very moment you spent with me. Do not ever forget it."

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced/accidental bonding, subjugation

♡ part one

♡ fem reader

Once you wake up in the morning, you feel… changed.

Your body feels full—as though you’d indulged too much last night—heavy and sticky and sore all over. There’s a strange taste in your mouth—sweet, somewhat salty, and metallic. Geez, you’re head’s pounding—how much did you drink last night? No, this feels different from a hangover—more full-bodied than that—a withdrawal of some kind or another. You must have done more at the party than drink, and yet, you can’t remember having stayed there all that long. No, you left with someone. That’s right. You went with… that overgrown Omega.

Oh no.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He comes in only wearing a pair of snug boxers—body stacked with brawn, not a single hint of Omega-like softness aside from his tousled bed hair. There’s a big toothy smile on his face—eyes are creased in cheer while carrying an overfull breakfast tray. You know you’re hungry, and yet you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but sick to your stomach by the horrid sight of his flaunted neck, decorated by a gory ring of your bitemark.

No. No, no, no, no, no! Fuck! “Tell me that’s not what I think it is…”

He laughs lightly with an awkward smile, apologetically scratching the back of his neck while balancing the tray in the other hand. “I’m afraid so…”

The world stops spinning, and for a moment, you think it might actually never start up again. Your throat snares, and you think you might throw up. How the fuck could this happen?

He sets the tray down next to you, then himself. The whole bed takes waves upon his weight. You remain still—eyes unrest and mouth hung.

“Hey, I know this might not be what we had planned, but…” he starts.

But you don’t let him finish before declaring, “I’ll take full responsibility.”

There’s nothing else to do, you think. The red string of fate has tied the two of you together. It’s sealed.

“There is no going back now.”

His face expresses shock, but if you’d taken a closer look, he’d probably not be able to hide it—the overwhelming sensation of victory. Oh, bless your Alpha pride. He knew you would say that.

He smiles softly. “I’m in your care then.”

It’s a work in progress after that—slow in the beginning, but that’s to be expected. You never pegged yourself to be the type who got caught up in the unmendable mistakes of a one-night stand, but then here you were—mated with a stranger, moving into his apartment because it’s bigger and closer to work, sharing the same bed and eating the same meals and helping each other through one another’s ruts and heats.

He's still no closer to being your type. In fact, he’s the total opposite—too giant to give you even a semblance worth of superiority over him. A couple of days ago, when he’d been searching for the remote in the couch you were lying on, he’d taken to pick you up instead of just asking you to move. It was completely humiliating. He’s so brazen, and it’s starting to become clear he’s doing it all on purpose!

He doesn’t get fussy when you state your claim of being the one on top—no, but what he does instead is somehow worse, going along with it with snide praise, grinning up at you, his big hands weighing heavy on your haunches as you roll them, calling you his good girl. It seems to humor him how it angers you—chuckling behind your hands as you layer them both atop his mouth, growling at him to “Shut up!”

No, he doesn’t mind letting you take charge. He rather enjoys the view of watching you ride—working so hard to appease him while he rests pretty and admires your body—all soft edges and plush curves. You tire quickly, though—poor thing, why don’t you leave the rest to him?

You had rejected it the first few times he’d offered. Your bruised pride simply wouldn’t have it—you’d rather you both stop than let him finish you off. But a couple more nights and you’d quicker come around than either of you expected—perhaps worn down by his constant nagging or simply fed up with your own failure—you let him assist by bouncing you on his lap.

You wouldn’t admit it to his face, never, but you’d enjoyed it far more than you could have ever thought…

Thankfully, your face in and of its own glory told him all he needed to know. It didn’t take long before he’d taken full advantage of it, nor for you to begin allowing it without being asked. Soon you were letting him fuck you against the wall, making the entire room shake—wall creaking and shelves rattling, pictures falling down. You hold your tongue and hold on tightly, arms and legs wrapped around him—moaning sweetly right by his ear. Fuck, you even bite him again.

As time passed, you came around to indulging more and more of his antics. Letting him fuck you from behind—hard and heavy and deep—thrusting into you while grappling your waist. You even go down on all fours when he does it—digging your claws into the sheets.

Lying belly-up beneath him still makes you feel nervous—and slightly ashamed—almost convinced something’s wrong with you for liking it. And yet you can’t help it. You know any other Omega wouldn’t fuck you like this. They wouldn’t have the stamina, the drive, or the desire. Not like him, who does it all like it’s his nature even when it shouldn’t be.

Guess you’re both freaks.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[acphengene]

String of fate

₊ ⁺ pairing: Niki x reader

₊ ⁺ word count: 3.2k

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate au, fluff, angst, brotherly love

₊ ⁺ note: it’s fucking finally here. i like them, they’re cute. also can you tell i’m Jayki biased?

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺ Masterlist

Niki was a dancer first, and a person second. Anyone who knew him, knew that. He moved like water and learned choreo faster than any other dancer under Hybe.

But he was also a brother, a good friend, and most importantly a hopeless romantic.

You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but he was. The little red string that was wrapped on his left pinky, was the one thing that would one day give him his fairytale ending.

He had been so excited about it since he woke up with it on his thirteenth birthday. He just never really talked that much about it.

The thread was tight and always stretched towards the horizon, a clear indication that you were nowhere near him. But he had always wondered just how he would find you.

Everything became a little easier when he debuted. Being in Enhypen meant a lot of travels and tours, and different ways for him to figure out just where you were.

Niki made sure that the string was nearly tucked away in his pocket whenever it started to get loose, a little scared that it might end up being flossed or even break if it came into contact with the floor too much.

Logically he knew that wasn't possible, but still he liked to know he kept it safe, just in case. Taking care of that bond that connected the two of you, couldn’t be the worst thing.

To his older brothers Niki had a very casual outlook on the soulmate bonds, an attitude that said: “it happens when it happens”. But when he was the last one standing without a soulmate by his side, he became a little more desperate than he had previously been.

“Can’t we just take a trip, you know to somewhere we haven’t been before?” He asked Jay that we’re currently testing out a new guitar.

His hyung smiled at him. “What happens to my cool and collected baby bro?”

Niki sighed. “He died” and sent the older one a teasing smile.

“You’re the one who has always said that it happens when it happens. And look at all of us, you weren’t wrong. It’s your turn to be patient now.”

He avoided Jay’s eye contact, as he kept playing the same note on a keyboard that stood in the room before him.

“Easy for you to say with G on your arm every day” Niki answered as he rolled his eyes.

Jay just chucked. “Come, let’s go make some curry and distract that mind of yours”

He followed along, but not before giving the thread a pull, a little reminder that he was thinking of you.

You loved the little red string, and red had quickly become your favorite color. What you didn’t understand was your soulmate's inability to stand still.

Almost every hour of every day, he was jumping around like a flea. The string was constantly bouncing or moving from side to side, often in the same movements over and over again.

It had left you wondering just what he was up to each and every day. You knew your own moved around a lot too, dancing would do that. But did he even notice how much he moved himself?

Of course ballet was much slower movements and much more elegant than whatever he was doing.

But you guessed whatever he was up to made him happy, he had after all been doing it since the very first day, and happiness was important.

Every now and then you would feel a tug on the string, and you knew he was thinking of you. It always warms your heart.

Another day, another tour stop. Niki was excited, the string had never been as loose as when he excited the airplane.

If it hadn't been for Sunghoons birthday gift last year he would have his arms filled with the red string at that moment. Hell he might even end up tripping over it.

His soulmate-less brother had always been the best at giving both advice and gifts that were soulmate related, and that year Niki had gotten a little compas looking thing that when attached to the string, railed it into it's compartment and kept it safe. It was one of the most precious gifts he had ever gotten.

“You think she’s here?” He asked his older brothers with hope in his eyes. Some shrugged, others nodded, but Heeseung just pulled him down to him and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Let’s find out shall we?”

It was still early in the morning, and he was just lounging around until it made sense for them to do their first sound check and overall runthrough of the choreo.

And as the clock struck ten, the string started to move. A tiny bit to the left, then to the right. You were so close now that he for the first time could see how you were moving through the city. Unlike the very subtle movements of your hand movements he had gotten used to, this looked different, it even felt different.

It distracted him. He forgot everything from lyrics to moves as the hours progressed, earning him a lot of teasing comments from his members.

At some point he buried his head in his hands and groaned. “I don’t know if I can do this guys” he said with an apologetic look.

Sunoo laughed. “You obviously can’t, but I’m surprised you have lasted this long”

Niki smiled. “Yeah, me too”

“Just go,” Jungwon said with a smile. “Find her and bring her to the hotel for dinner”

The youngest nodded enthusiastically, before he all but ran off stage. He didn’t make it far before he heard someone call after him.

“I’m not letting you roam a new city all by yourself” Jay said with a smile before grabbing Nikis shoulders and giving them a loving rub.

The two of them got one of their managers to drive them until the string led them through small passages in the city. Then they took the rest of the journey on foot.

The city in and of itself was beautiful, with old cathedrals, brick sidewalks and cozy cafes on almost every corner, and a quick coffee run later the two had returned to their adventure.

Niki was quiet, more than he usually was, but who could blame him? His palms were sweaty and his eyes never left that red string that twisted around corners. He wondered if you had walked the same streets at some point.

Jay looked at his youngest brother with admiration, as he tried to let him just be, to live this moment.

The string took them to an open plaza in the middle of the city, and before them laid one of the few buildings in the world that were still home to a royal ballet. And the string went straight through its doors.

“Shit…” Jay said under his breath.

“Fuck” Niki ecchoed.

Getting to the building was one thing, the easiest step on their path it seemed. But getting in there, behind the scenes? That would be as close to impossible.

On any given day you would’ve paid more attention to your end of the string. But today wasn’t any normal day, no you were on the night of your career. Prima ballerina for this years ‘Swan Lake’ was your new title.

Everything had led up to this, this was what you had worked for your entire life, what you had ruined your muscles and feet for, and nothing, not even the new movements of your string, could take your eyes off that price.

The day was a constant stress of rehearsals, fittings, ice baths and fittings. Your heart was beating so hard that you could feel the pulse in your entire body.

When you finally sat down in the hair and make up you gave the string a little pull. It was as tight as it had always been, and you couldn’t help that little ping of hurt that he, whoever he was, wasn’t there to see this moment and to be your loudest cheerleader in the crowd.

Niki felt defeated, normally the little tug would make it all better, but how could he get into a show that had been sold out for months?

Jay had managed to score tickets to every performance that night except one, and as absolutely amazing as the two performances had been that night, you hadn’t been there.

“I’m so sorry” Jay said with an apologetic smile as he watched Niki once again moved his last piece of ravioli around on his plate as he was lost in thought.

He only shrugged. “It is what it is” he gave him a halfhearted smile. “At least these performances have given me a few ideas for some new choreography?” It sounded more like a question than anything else.

“Yeah, that is kind of a silver lining”

He lowered his head and kept it down, and all Jay could do was sit idly by as he watched his youngest break down in front of him.

It was a rare sight to see Niki cry, he put on a hard facade, something he had done these last few years, a trauma response they had all figured.

He moved to the booth and pulled him into a tight hug. “I know,” he whispered. And that little reassurance opened the floodgates.

Niki was grateful they were hidden away from all eyes in the back of the restaurant. That no one was near to witness this, the fact that Jay saw him like this was embarrassing enough.

He pulled away with an apology as he dried his eyes.

“Don’t ever apologize to me for having feelings that are so big you need to express them. I will forever be a safe place for you to do that”

Niki saw how sincere he was and he only nodded as yet another tear escaped his left eye.

A commotion in the restaurant was the next thing the pair heard, and suddenly their manager came rushing towards them.

“I got them!” He screamed. “I got them but we need to go now! It starts in 5 minutes!”

Fuck. This was it. And he had never in his entire life, moved faster than he did just then.

He moved up the stairs with a fast pace, rushing towards the top floor where his seat was located. He didn’t wait to figure out if the others could keep up, that didn’t matter. You were the only thing on his mind.

This had to be it, you had to be a part of this production, there was no other way. He had prepared himself to stand outside in the snow all night if that was what it took. But this did seem like a better alternative.

He wondered what your role was, were you someone behind the scenes, or were you like him, a performer?

The balcony had a perfect view of the entire stage, and when the string led straight behind the curtain, he knew this was it.

His legs were bouncing, he was fidgeting with every ring on his fingers. He didn’t care that his baggy jeans or his hoodie made him stand out like a sore thumb between the fancy gowns and suits.

Jay laid a hand on his thigh. “Breathe” and he tried, but it was as if all of the oxygen had left the room.

“She’s here hyung, she’s right here. I just know she is”

“And so are we”

Their eyes met. “Is this really happening?” He asked.

Jay smiled. “Yeah, it really is”

“You’re sure this isn’t a dream?” He asked as he once again looked to the red curtains.

Jay laughed. “Dreams are my mark, not yours. So yeah I’m pretty sure”

The smile that painted his lips were from pure happiness, and he looked like a tiny sun, radiating in this somewhat dark room.

And just then the lights flickered three times, an indication that the show was about to begin.

All Niki could do now was hope that he wouldn’t pass out.

As the curtains rose a calmness came over you, the world around you disappeared, and your feet started to move on their own accord as they always had.

You were home now, and you wondered if you would ever be more happy than you were in that exact moment.

He saw you, and you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. There was no one in this world that could tear his eyes from you.

He knew in his heart he looked like a star struck idiot, but he couldn’t care less.

Your elegance was unmatched and the way you moved proved to him that the universe had done him a favor. You were the other half of his soul, one he had lost before he even came into this world, the one thing he had searched for his entire life, the one person he would search for in every life after this one.

A dancer, of course you were, he thought. Who else would be able to understand his love for being on stage, other than one who shared that passion?

He knew it was opening night for this year's season which meant that he experienced this moment with you in real time. He was so proud despite not even knowing your name yet.

Before he knew it the curtains once again closed and the show was officially over. The cast stepped out when they opened once again and your smile was so big as you looked at your partner it literally took his breath away, it was as if he froze in time.

As you bowed he once again gained consciousness and he clapped and cheered louder than anyone there. He reached out and pulled on that string as hard as he could.

He watched as you took a small stumble, he watched as you reached out to grab it, and as you followed it, it let your eyes straight to him.

God he was beautiful, dressed in black and grey, messy hair and tear stained cheeks, but he didn’t seem to mind. The two of you watched each other for a second, and then you both watched as the string that connected you, transformed from crimson red to the most dazzeling gold.

He was still clapping when your tears started rolling down your cheeks and you once again took a bow, deeper this time, more grateful.

Niki had sent Jay back to the hotel after he had been approached by one of the security guard of the theater. Telling him that you would be out as soon as possible.

He had decided to go outside to hopefully calm his blazing hot cheek.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that he had actually found you. That he had listened to himself and it had been worth it.

The snow had started again and the darkness that surrounded it was only lit up by the old streetlights. He stood there, looking over the plaza as he wondered just what he wanted to say to you.

He didn’t have Jake’s mark, but he wanted it to be something meaningful, something you could be proud of.

Behind him he heard a door close and he turned in one smooth movement, as if quick turns on his heels were second nature to him. Who was he? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You stood on the top of the stairs looking down on him. Looking at that gold string, so you hadn’t imagined it.

Niki took a step forward and almost instinctively reached out for you.

He was calm, and you most definitely weren’t. You made a small jump and let out a small scream before you rushed down the steps to him.

He laughed, loudly, and the sound bounced around on the buildings, echoing it back to the two of you as if it was your own little song.

As you were almost by the foot of the stairs he opened his arms to you, and you leaped the last few steps. Throwing yourself into his arms.

He caught you, as he always would, and held you tight. Spinning you around as you both laughed.

He smelled amazing, felt amazing. He was tall, messy haired and you could feel his heart beating beneath that big puffer coat.

“I found you” he said as he finally pulled his face from the crook of your neck.

The two of you looked at each others with smiles so big that they hurt your cheeks more than the cold.

“You certainly did, and perfect timing I might say” You answered as he returned you to the ground. He kept his arms around your waist though. You didn’t mind.

“I barely made it, who would’ve thought I’d end up having such a talented soulmate that sell out her first show months in advance?”

You felt the blush paint your cheek as you looked away from him. “Don’t be embarrassed, you should be proud. It’s such an amazing achievement”

He couldn’t help himself as he brought his hand to your cheek and forced your eyes back to his.

“What about you, what is it that you do since you’re suddenly here?” You slithered out of his grip and instead interlinked your pinky with his.

He smiled at the gesture, and he quickly knew this would be how he held your hand for as long as you allowed it. Together you walked down the street enjoying the cold and finally each other.

Niki chuckled. “Eh… I’m in a similar industry” he said as he ran a hand through his hair.

He didn’t expect that he would be this nervous actually talking to you, opening up. But he was scared all of the sudden, scared that anything he could say would want you to leave him behind.

You raised a brow at him, but didn’t push the subject, you were observing, letting him take his time.

“Do you know kpop?” he asked as he kicked some of the snow that lay on the road.

“I do”

“Well, I’m an idol… And are kind of here for a tour” he stopped in his tracks and watched you smile up at him.

“So a singer and a dancer then? You’re making me look bad”

He chuckled, as he felt the weight fall from his shoulders. "I don't think that is possible"

"What kind of dance?" You asked, and he couldn't help himself so he spun you around.

Niki watched as your body reacted by pure instinct, how you stepped up on your toes, even in your sneakers, how your leg lifted off the ground.

"Well definitely not ballet"

The two of you laughed together.

"Want to dance with me?" He asked as you stopped beneath one of the lights.

"I will dance with you for as long as you'll have me" You said as he pulled you closer with a smirk.

"I promise you one thing red, I am never letting you go. You have a dance partner for life with me"

So you danced there in the somewhat silence of the city as the snow fell around you. Two dancers, one soul, brought together by nothing more than a red string of fate

₊ ⁺ taglist: @why4anne @juicygirl4life @azzy02 @bluxjun @why-did-i-just-do-this @elairah @ramyeonzwithspam @floating-moon-dust @skyearby @acourtofmoonlightandstars @garrdenwonie @whateveridontcaresheesh @stormy1408 @tunafishyfishylike @sol3chu @spicxbnny @blvengene @fics-lovebot @fangirl125reader @acopenhagenarmy @tunafishyfishylike

[gimmethatagustd]

only here to sin (final); kth, knj, pjm

When your genius of a boyfriend returns to Harvard for his sophomore year of college, you never would have expected to have his worst enemy keeping you entertained in his absence.

Pairing: Taehyung x (f)reader (ft. Namjoon, Jimin)

Rating: Explicit

Genre/Trope: Enemies to lovers, college

Content Warning: Angst, infidelity, alcohol, marijuana, toxic romantic and familial relationships, mental health issues, references parental death, virginity kink, emotional manipulation, smut (blow job, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, cunnilingus)  

Word Count: 14,588

A/N: This was really the end of an era for me and the ohts taehyung whores back in the day. Especially @taehyungcentral

‣ Main Masterlist

‣ Series Masterlist

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations! After thorough consideration, we are thrilled to offer you admission to the Honors College of… 

You read the acceptance letter on your phone and again when it arrived in the mail, snatching up the large envelope with the university’s crest printed on it from your mother’s prying eyes. 

At this time last year, the mere thought of transferring to a new college would have seemed intimidating and impossible. Now, though? Now the thought of moving to the other side of the country to finish your next two years of college was so intoxicating that you could barely contain yourself. You eventually told your parents, knowing their response without needing to touch on the topic. But you were a good, dutiful daughter. You played by the rules, even when you were still breaking them. It was a delicate balance. 

They still refused to help you move into your new dorm, no matter how you framed the situation. You were ruining their perfect plans. Sure, they wouldn’t cut you off financially, but they wouldn’t help you get to where you wanted (no, needed) to be. It was all on you. 

But that was fine. There was nothing for you in your sleepy hometown, anyway. Your parents cared for you too little, your friends were fake, Namjoon wasn’t in the picture to stop you from being independent, and Taehyung was… Well, Taehyung was Taehyung. At some point, you burned down quite literally every bridge in your life, stripped every relationship of whatever flimsy glue has been left holding it together. It would be easy to blame Taehyung. He’d been the catalyst, after all. But something deep down told you that this was bound to happen, with or without Kim Taehyung. 

You sat on your bed and scrolled through your Instagram friends. If you were going to skip town, it was time for a purge. You were going to unfollow every single stupid person you’d forced a friendship with simply because your parents knew each other or your families went to the same country club or you met them at piano lessons. Fuck that superficial shit. You were done. No more tea parties and white dresses and sticking noses up at people who didn’t have a stick up their asses. You didn’t care if they realized you’d cut them off your socials. 

As Taehyung told you, no more giving a shit about what other people wanted. 

It seemed so silly, archiving Instagram posts and unfollowing people. As if that was really what mattered in life. But it felt good, regardless. You gleefully scrolled through the list, every tap of the unfollow button like scissors through strings of fate. 

The glee quickly died when you were suddenly bombarded with text messages from the man whose red string of fate was too tangled with yours.

You threw your phone across your bed and watched it skid to a stop right on the edge of the mattress. It teetered for a moment before plummeting to the floor. You didn’t bother to pick it up. 

Your attempt at being straightforward and having a no-nonsense attitude with Taehyung worked. It was difficult to be so plain in your responses; not sending an exclamation point or a smiley face made you feel like you were being a total bitch. Especially since you were essentially rejecting him. An hour passed since Taehyung read your message and he still hadn’t responded. To be fair, you had told him to shut up. So technically he was doing exactly what you supposedly wanted. 

Except you didn’t want him to shut up. 

Unless you were the one shutting him up. With your mouth. Or your pussy. 

The thought made you flush with heat straight to your face. And perhaps to other places, too. But you had to stay strong. You couldn’t fall into the traps of Kim Taehyung. 

Curling up with your pillow, you cradled yourself into a fetal position. 

The last time you’d seen him was almost a month ago. You could stay strong. You could stay away from him. You knew you could. And soon you would be so far away that Kim Taehyung wouldn’t even exist anymore.

Caffeine and anxiety made your freshly manicured nails drum against the reclaimed wood table you sat at, perched on the edge of your seat. The bakery had very few customers in it, much to your good fortune. The fewer people to possibly get into your business, the better. Perhaps you should have asked Namjoon to meet you somewhere more private; then again, did you want to be somewhere private with him? You weren’t quite sure. 

His large frame approached you with hunched shoulders and eyes rimmed red. Rather than his usual fashionable outfit, Namjoon wore a plain hoodie and sweatpants. His large-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, likely because his constant crying prevented him from wearing contacts. The feeling of your nails digging into the inside of your palms was unpleasant, but it was better than the possible sting of tears. 

Focus. Focus on your breathing, on the tinkling of cafe music floating down from the ceiling, on avoiding that sticky spot on the table your elbow kept touching. 

Don’t focus on the fact that Namjoon’s promise ring was still snug on his finger, whereas yours was thrown in the back of your dresser drawer at home. 

“Jagi- …. Y/N…” Namjoon stood at your table, eyes cast downward. Your throat conveniently closed in on itself. 

With a drawn-out sigh, Namjoon pulled out the seat opposite of you. Its metal legs dragged against the tile floor, making a screeching sound that echoed through the quiet bakery. You would have taken that ear-splitting sound ricocheting in your skull for eternity over having to stare into the look he gave you. 

“Hi.” 

The longer you looked into his puffy eyes, the hotter you felt your face burn. Your stomach was twisting and churning; you’d spent a good twenty minutes in the bathroom before Namjoon showed up simply because you weren’t sure your body could function. 

Your first instinct was to ask him how he was doing, but you left your mouth hanging open when you realized the nicety wouldn’t take you very far. It would likely start the conversation off badly. And you desperately needed this to go well. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” you chose to say instead. It reasserted that there was a reason for why the two of you were meeting, but it was void of any emotion aside from gratefulness. Not that you felt very grateful about anything at this point; maybe that was your flaw. Y/N, the spoiled brat. 

“How could you throw away so many years of our relationship like that, Y/N?” Namjoon dove straight to the point. He gripped the edges of the table and leaned forward. Looking into his eyes felt like staring into the sun; it was all blinding, painful heat. 

“But it was years of something bad, Joon.” 

“How was it bad? We were perfect.” 

You flinched at the loaded word, leaning a bit back in your seat. The sudden distance only made Namjoon push his defense further. 

“You wasted my time.” The hateful way Namjoon spat the accusation didn’t match the tired, weak look in his eyes. “We put so much effort into this, for nothing.” 

His words stung more than you expected, even when you’d prepared yourself all morning to anticipate that Namjoon might say hurtful things. He often did when he was angry, and this was the angriest you’d ever seen him - at least, with you. So when the glare didn’t let up and he kept invading your space across the table, you really couldn’t blame yourself for cowering. You weren’t used to anyone talking to you like this. 

“That’s hurtful,” you spoke with quivering lips. “What about love, Joonie? Don’t you love me? Was the effort all you care about?” Was it possible to be strong and stand up for yourself while also feeling terrified and weak? Were you weak for reacting like this? 

“Oh,” Namjoon scoffed, his eyes trailing off to look somewhere to the side of you. “You think that’s hurtful? But you won’t address the fact that you’ve broken up with me over a lie Kim Taehyung has fed you. If you loved me, you wouldn’t act like this.” 

“You lied to me, Namjoon. This isn’t about Tae.” 

Namjoon’s head whipped back to look you squarely in the face, and it was then that you knew you’d fucked up.

“Tae?” He angrily repeated the nickname back at you. “So you have been talking to him more than just at the party.” 

Your mouth fell open and your fingers dug into the edge of the table. Your brain screamed at you to speak, but you couldn’t let out even a puff of air. 

“Were you sleeping with him?” Namjoon’s voice rose slightly. Although he wasn’t exactly loud, the bakery was too quiet. “Y/N, fucking answer me. Did you cheat on me?” 

Perhaps it wasn’t fair to Namjoon, but you couldn’t help the fury that bubbled up in your chest at his accusations. No matter how true they were, he had his nerve to deflect blame onto you, as if years of shitty boyfriend behavior didn’t matter. 

“Real typical of you to make this about yourself and turn this on me,” you hissed, unsure of where this boldness was coming from. Maybe Taehyung had rubbed off on you. Uncertainty still clouded your mind, though. You still shrank back in your seat despite your uptick of confidence showing through your voice. 

“You won’t even deny it!” Namjoon scoffed incredulously. 

“Taehyung has nothing to do with this!” 

At that moment, the little bell above the bakery’s front door rang to indicate that someone was entering the shop. The tinkling sound carried through the near-empty bakery. Out of instinct, you and Namjoon turned to glance at the door. 

“What the fuck?” Namjoon turned his attention back to you, but your eyes were still on the man who’d stepped through the door. 

Taehyung stood in the doorway wearing his usual brown leather jacket over a white t-shirt and skinny jeans. There were rips in each knee, but also a slit in the middle of his thigh that showed an inch or two of bare skin. You tried not to look at how form-fitting his clothes were, nor at the way his wavy hair fell unstyled into his eyes. 

He locked eyes with you, then shifted to Namjoon’s profile, before landing on you once again. He mouthed a “sorry” and jabbed at the front door with his thumb, indicating that he was going to leave. 

You wanted to kill him. 

“Did you invite him, too? Were you going to come clean together? Ask me for my fucking blessing?” 

“No,” you said in a firm but hushed tone. The bell rang again and Taehyung was gone. 

Namjoon scooted back in his chair, fully preparing to leave. Fear shot through your heart at the possibility that he might go after Taehyung. But why did you even care? It wouldn’t be the first time the two had fought. 

You scooted back in your chair as well, determined to be the first to leave.

“Our problems began the moment we started dating, Namjoon. And that’s the truth.” You rose to your feet, wrapping your arms around your body. “You never treated me like an individual. You treated me like a project.” 

Namjoon opened his mouth to protest, but you simply shook your head. You gathered your half-finished vanilla latte to throw away. It would only upset your stomach even more if you took it with you. 

“I also came here to tell you that I’m transferring to another university. In California.” Initially, you didn’t know why you felt the need to tell him, but the crumpled look on his face when he digested your statement gave you the satisfaction you didn’t know you needed. “Goodbye, Namjoon.” 

You forced yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead as the bell above the bakery’s door tinkled behind you, refusing to give Namjoon the satisfaction of knowing that you looked back at him, that you lingered. Instead, you scanned the parking lot for an all-black sports car with windows so tinted it was difficult to see the man waiting in the driver’s seat, drumming his long fingers against the steering wheel. Sliding in the passenger seat, you slammed the door shut and continued to keep your eyes straight ahead. 

“I’m guessing from the way you’re doing that cute little pout that it didn’t go well.” 

“Can you please just drive?” 

It was a silent drive to Taehyung’s apartment, save for your sniffling as hot tears streamed down your face. You pressed the sleeves of your cardigan into your eyes, against your cheeks, over your nose. You did your best to collect the mess you were making of yourself, to not lose it yet again in front of Taehyung. People crying made him uncomfortable which was why you were shocked when he reached over to place his hand on your thigh. 

Unlike in the past, the gesture wasn’t sexual. His hand was simply a warm reminder that you weren’t alone. His fingers stretched out to grip your thigh for comfort, never once inching up too high. 

How could you rationalize going to Taehyung’s apartment? Or involving him in any of this business with Namjoon? You told yourself it was because you had no one else to turn to, no real friends who still lived at home. Sure, you had Jackie, but you felt like your relationship with her as co-workers would cross a weird line if you ran to her apartment to cry over your ex-boyfriend. 

Did it make any more sense that you were doing that with Taehyung, though? Especially after he had already made it very clear that there was no potential for the two of you to be exclusive?

Taehyung pulled into his apartment complex and your brain screamed at you to do something, anything, to get him to take you home instead. You could lock yourself in your room and easily ignore your parents. They never checked up on you unless they needed you, anyway. 

But do not go into Kim Taehyung’s apartment. 

“Jagiya,” Taehyung murmured, running his hand along your thigh in a soothing massage. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You shook your head and dried your tears. All you felt was a deep-rooted numbness that started in the middle of your chest, seeping into every crevice and limb. Brynn said sometimes with emotions there was nothing to do but ride the wave. 

You were going to ride the wave. 

Taehyung led you to his apartment, his fingers intertwined with yours to make sure you were keeping up. Nothing passed before your eyes as you stumbled behind him; you barely saw or heard anything but the back of Taehyung’s leather jacket and white noise flooding your ears. There was nothing else for you. 

Inside, Taehyung watched you stand frozen in the doorway for a few seconds too long before it eventually unnerved him. 

“Y/N, take your shoes off and come here,” he said in a strong voice, hoping to cut through whatever was going on in your head. 

With a sigh, you kicked your shoes off and dragged yourself towards Taehyung. You pressed your face against his broad chest and loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. Just as the night you’d broken up with Namjoon, you felt Taehyung tense beneath the hug, and it took him a moment to ease up. His hands found your waist and drew you flush against his body. 

“I hate that you’re the only person I can go to.” 

“I know.” 

Taehyung’s hands tucked inside of your cardigan to find the hem of your shirt. He slipped his hands beneath the fabric, giving himself access to your bare waist. You shivered as he traced patterns into your skin with his fingertips. 

“Wanna smoke?” 

You tilted your head back to look at his face, admiring his muscular neck and sharp jawline. In the past couple of months when the two of you hadn’t spent much time together, Taehyung had changed. His lanky body had filled in more, seemingly more muscular. He also lived alone; Jungkook moved in with his girlfriend. You found it interesting that Taehyung’s friends were beginning to settle down. You wondered if he was still fucking other people. 

Smoking with him was a really bad idea. 

“Sure.” 

You followed Taehyung to the living room, plopping down on his couch while you watched him grind up weed he plucked from a glass jar. The veins in his hands popped as he twisted the grinder and picked out the pieces he wanted. Those long fingers expertly rolled a joint with a rolling paper that had little cartoon grapes printed on it. You couldn’t stop yourself from remembering the last time you had those hands on you when Taehyung fingered you during your picnic at the local forest reserve. You remembered how secure you’d felt with your back leaned against his chest, your legs hooked around his so he could keep you spread open for him. The way you licked and sucked his fingers clean when he was done. 

“Here.” Taehyung’s deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You took the now lit joint from his fingers and brought it to your lips. “You still like the grape, right?” 

You nodded, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that made Taehyung’s figure waver in front of you. “I haven’t smoked with anyone else.” 

He nodded, taking the joint back from you. The two of you sat in relative silence, only murmuring comments about the weed or for you to get an update about Jungkook’s new place. It was nice to sit, to simply exist, and let the high lift your mood and have your body buzz. 

“You can do whatever you want now,” Taehyung commented, tapping the joint against an ashtray on the coffee table. “Go where you want, do what you want, see who you want.” 

“But not with you, right?” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his bloodshot eyes with yours, instead choosing to inspect the glass jar of weed on the table. 

“You can do whatever you want with me, baby girl,” Taehyung countered. 

Whatever you wanted. With one condition. 

But why did you care? You would be gone. There was no longer time to do anything you wanted with him, even if he genuinely wanted you to. The opportunity was rubbish blown away in the wind. 

When you stole a glance at him, he had his head tilted back slightly and you watched his jaw muscles flex as he took a hit of the joint. It was finished, but all you could focus on was the way his lips parted to let a perfect swirl of smoke leave his mouth, only to be inhaled again, this time through his nose. His nose with the perfect little mole freckled right on the tip. Upon closer inspection, you realized he was wearing the same gold chain he wore in the shirtless photo he sent you. Once he put the joint out in the ashtray he carded his hand through his messy locks, the wavy strands softly falling back against his forehead. 

God, he was so fucking hot. 

“Got something you want to say?” Taehyung smirked, noticing the way you stared at him. Somehow, he always did. 

Yes, you wanted to say. More things than I possibly know how to express. 

You couldn’t tell if it was the weed making you misinterpret reality, but it seemed that Taehyung leaned closer to you on the couch. You continued to watch him with your lips parted and eyelids heavy. When he looked at you with those dark eyes tinged red from hitting that perfect high, fuck, you could melt in his hands. 

All of a sudden he was too close. Your knees bumped into each other and you swore you could feel the sensation vibrate up your leg and straight to your core. Inhaling sharply, you breathed in his cologne beneath the thick smell of weed; oak, and spice. Your brain moved in slow motion as Taehyung’s hand reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently gliding over the apple of your cheek. The feeling of his skin on yours shot ripples of warm electricity through your veins, snaking through every part of your body. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into his touch when Taehyung pressed his lips against yours. 

The kiss started slow, almost hesitant, like the two of you were remembering how your lips used to fit together. Taehyung coaxed your mouth open and the feeling of his tongue rolling against yours made you moan. He hummed in response, retreating slightly to suck on your bottom lip. 

Taehyung’s hands squeezed your hips and he pulled you towards him until he had you straddling his lap. His shoulders were firm under your hands when you slid forward to wrap your arms around his neck. The kiss became more fervent and sloppier, all twisting tongues and bitten lips. Your body was on autopilot as you started moving against him, Taehyung using his grip on your waist to grind you directly onto his semi-hard cock. The zipper of his jeans dragged against your clit through your pants; every touch had you gushing. 

“Tae…” 

You let out a small whimper as Taehyung’s mouth landed hot on your throat, sucking deep hickeys into your skin. He flicked his tongue against your skin as he sucked on you, just as he’d done with your clit the night of Jungkook’s party. Fuck, how you’d wished you had at least one more chance to feel his mouth hot and wet on your pussy. 

“We, we shouldn’t be doing this, Tae,” you attempted to protest as Taehyung pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. 

“Why not? You’re not with Namjoon anymore.” His hands slid around to unzip your jeans. Maybe you didn’t verbally answer him, but you shimmied out of your jeans and that was enough of a response for him. 

Taehyung’s shirt was next to go. You ran your hands down the ripples of his abdomen. His muscles were more defined and hard beneath your touch. Taehyung sighed in between kisses down into your cleavage. He used both hands to pull your bra down to allow your tits to spill out, still pushed together from the restrictive clothing. 

“Fuck, Tae,” you moaned, arching your back to press further against him as his tongue began flicking against your nipple. 

When his mouth closed around your nipple and he sucked you lightly, your hands flew to unbuckle his belt. Taehyung lifted his hips to pull his jeans and briefs down his thighs. You’d slept with Taehyung multiple times, but not enough for you to be accustomed to his size. With his cock erect and throbbing between your thighs, you tried to regulate your breathing as you anticipated having him inside of you. He guided you to move against him, rubbing your clothed pussy against his cock as you watched beads of precum drip from his head. You were scandalized by the way you were practically drooling at the thought, especially since you’d never ridden him before. 

“My wallet,” he said hoarsely, gesturing to the coffee table, and the feeling of his baritone voice rumbling against your chest had you weak in the knees. You twisted around to grab his wallet and watched with heat pooling at your core as Taehyung retrieved a condom to roll down his thick cock. 

“You ready?” Taehyung pulled your underwear to the side and ran his fingers through your dripping, swollen folds. “Fuck, you’re always so wet for me, jagiya. Shit…” 

He moaned at the same time you did as he slipped two fingers into you, your pussy easily sucking them in. Your legs shook as Taehyung fucked you with his fingers, eventually stretching you out with three to be sure you were ready to readjust to his cock after going so long without him. 

“Tae, please,” you begged, gripping the hair at the back of his head as the two of you locked eyes. 

“Miss me, baby girl?” Taehyung teased. 

You hated the way your heart fluttered when he spoke, or when you felt his arms wrap around your waist to pull you against him, your chests pressed against each other. Taehyung held your bloodshot gaze with his own, both of your eyes heavy from lust and being high. You could almost trick yourself into believing that the way he cradled your body in his hands was out of care. You could almost convince yourself that the heavy feeling in your chest was only weed, that Taehyung had no impact. That he didn’t matter. Almost. 

“Yes,” you admitted with a whimper, too high to attempt to lie. You lifted onto your knees to line his cock with your entrance. The descent was slow and careful; you weren’t eager to have him slamming into your cervix if you could avoid it. 

“Mmmm, that’s it, jagi,” Taehyung moaned, his cock twitching inside of you once you finally sunk onto him, your ass flat against his thighs.“Fuck yourself on my cock.” 

“Y-yes, Tae.” 

With a tight grip on his shoulders, you rolled your hips back and forth, testing out that technique first. When you lifted until only his head was inside of you and then allowed yourself to drop down, your skin slapping against his, that was when you got the reaction you wanted. Taehyung threw his head back against the couch and dug his fingers deeper into your skin. 

“You remember who this pussy belongs to, baby girl?” 

“You, Taehyung.” With a small whimper, you nodded, stuttering through your response to him as you worked hard to match the movement of your hips to his thrusts. “Only you.”

“Good girl.”

You felt your chest swell with his praise, a small smile forming on your lips as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. Taehyung took over, planting his feet to the ground so he could thrust into you with more force. All you could do was gasp as he fucked into you, every thrust stimulating your walls and forcing your clit to brush against his abdomen. 

“Oh my god, baby, I’m gonna cum.” 

Taehyung picked up the pace, growling filthy words of encouragement as he guided you through your orgasm. You moaned his name until your throat became hoarse, your fingers tangled in his dark locks, your thighs burning. 

However, your orgasmic high was short-lived. A loud bang against Taehyung’s front door caused both of you to startle. Taehyung protectively wrapped his arms around your waist and the two of you stared at the door. You flinched when the banging continued, your eyes wide and locked with Taehyung’s. 

“Who is that?” you whispered, but you were met with a blank look. What had Taehyung been doing lately to have someone trying to smash his door in? 

“Open the fucking door, Taehyung!” 

Your stomach dropped to the floor when Namjoon’s voice boomed from the other side of the door. 

“Son of a bitch,” Taehyung growled. 

It was no surprise that hearing your ex-boyfriend’s voice made you spring into action. You shakily got up, your legs wobbling when you attempted to stand. You collapsed back onto the couch, fear etched into your face. 

“I swear to god, I’ll rip this fucking door off its hinges.” 

Taehyung peeled the condom off and pulled his jeans on, not bothering with a shirt. He was so fucking bold. You on the other hand were scrambling to throw your clothes on before Taehyung flung the front door open to come face to face with a very pissed-off Namjoon. 

You could practically see Namjoon’s brain putting all the pieces together when his gaze moved from Taehyung’s shirtless torso and the tight crotch of his jeans to the hickeys along your throat and collarbones. You wondered if, as he stormed down the hallway of Taehyung’s apartment complex, he heard you screaming Taehyung’s name as you came. 

“You motherfucker.” 

The scream that ripped from your throat was uncontrollable as you saw Namjoon wind up to launch his fist at Taehyung’s face. Miraculously, Taehyung ducked in enough time to miss the hit.

“Are you really going to try this again? High school wasn’t enough for you, Joonie?” 

Taehyung took a step towards Namjoon, his broad shoulders squared up. To no one’s surprise, Namjoon didn’t back down. Instead, he grabbed a hold of Taehyung and shoved him backward, causing the other man to stumble. The sound of the back of Taehyung’s head hitting the wall echoed through the apartment. 

“Fuck you,” Namjoon spat, advancing on Taehyung with a fury blazing in his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about that anymore. I’m beyond that. This is different.” 

Taehyung may have been lankier than Namjoon, but he was quicker. You screamed again when you watched Taehyung’s fist smash into Namjoon’s jaw, flinging the man’s face sideways. 

“Different, yeah? What about it is different?” By the time Namjoon could collect himself, Taehyung’s fist was firing again, packing more effort than the first. “This time your mommy and daddy aren’t going to save you from the bullshit you brought on yourself?” 

By the third hit, a bit of blood trickled from Namjoon’s nose. He doubled over to wipe the back of his hand against his face, and that was when you made your move.  

“Taehyung, stop! Stop it!” 

You grabbed Taehyung’s arm to pull him back from letting his fist swing again. With Taehyung distracted, Namjoon wrapped his muscular arms around one of his legs and pulled him onto the ground. 

“I can’t believe,” Namjoon’s fist collided with Taehyung’s chest as the other man tried to wrestle free from Namjoon’s grasp, “You put your dirty fucking hands on my girlfriend.” 

“Should’ve seen how she was cumming all over these dirty fucking hands,” Taehyung spit back. 

You watched in horror as the two men continued fighting, spewing insults while their fists smashed into shoulders, cheeks, and chests. No amount of screaming was getting through to them. You could shout until your veins were popping out of your neck, but the only sounds the two were listening for were their heavy breathing and the sound of the other man breaking. 

It wasn’t until they’d wrestled into an end table and knocked a vase onto the floor that the two men stopped. Glass shards exploded everywhere. 

“Fucking stop fighting right now!” You reached out to grab a fistful of Namjoon’s t-shirt with one hand and Taehyung’s hair with the other. “I hate you! I hate you both! Namjoon, it’s over. Let it go.”

Namjoon attempted to sputter a response, but you let out another ear-piercing shriek of frustration. “I’m so fucking sick of both of you! Get over yourselves! No one wins in this. No one.” 

The two men sat on the floor for a moment longer, blinking in dazed confusion, as if they’d been ripped out of a dream. It seemed very clear to you what needed to be done, but they were too dumbfounded by your sudden aggressiveness and take-charge attitude to know what to do. 

“Get up!” 

Namjoon was the first to stand. He pushed back his bangs from his forehead and stared at you with a stern expression. He was still breathing hard and his t-shirt had a few tiny spots of blood on it. You assumed it was his own, but when Taheyung finally stood, you saw that his bottom lip was cut on one side, causing a bit of blood to trickle into the corner of his mouth. 

It was stupid. The whole thing was utterly stupid. You’d all reserved to being wild animals over something that didn’t matter. There was no love here. Namjoon didn’t fight for you because he was in love. No, he fought because his ego was hurt. He fought because he felt wounded and blindsided. And Taehyung fought because he reveled in the adrenaline rush and the possibility to put Namjoon in his place. 

They were both infuriating. 

“Don’t try crawling back to me when he fucks you over,” Namjoon snapped. He moved slowly, likely trying to disguise how hurt he was. You thought you saw a few scratches on his legs; perhaps they were from the broken vase. He snatched up his phone from where it’d fallen amongst the shards of glass. The front door slammed shut behind him with a force so strong it seemed to make the entire apartment shudder. 

You wanted to cry, but the weed wouldn’t let you. Just like your mouth, your eyes felt as dry as cotton. The only thing your body could do was churn up a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach when you turned to look at Taehyung. His face was flushed pink beneath his honey tones. The beginnings of purple bruises were forming along his ribcage and the apple of his left cheek. Although Namjoon walked away more defeated, he packed a harder punch than Taehyung. Since Taehyung wasn’t wearing a shirt, it was easier to see the damage. Who knew what Namjoon would see when he got home and stripped away his sweaty, bloody clothes. 

“Why did you do that?” You took a step towards Taehyung, your body still tingling with adrenaline. “Why didn’t you just walk away?” 

Taehyung squinted his eyes. “Do you think he would have stopped?” 

You stood with pursed lips. Taehyung’s skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat. You fought the urge to pull him close. 

No. Namjoon wouldn’t have stopped. 

Taehyung exhaled a dark laugh when you didn’t respond. Your silence was nothing new; he was just surprised that now you were being stubborn rather than shy.

“If you want to go back to being his property, by all means, go ahead. But don’t get mad at me for fucking defending you.” 

Blood pulsed fast and hot into your face and neck, heating your already charged nerves into a frenzy you weren’t in the right state of mind to control. With a glare, you took another step forward. Your head tilted to look Taehyung in the eyes and for once the dark eyes that stared back at you didn’t intimidate you. 

“Is that what you were doing? Defending me?” You tried to keep your voice from rising once again. “Or were you getting revenge just like when you fuck me?” 

Taehyung leaned down until the tip of his nose was mere inches away from yours. Despite your confidence, it was hard not to be unsettled by the emptiness in his eyes. Yet it was impossible to look away. 

“I fuck you because I want to, baby girl. Not for revenge.” His sneer sent shivers down your spine. He grabbed your waist and walked you backward until you felt your body bump into the wall. You gasped and placed your palms flat against Taehyung’s chest to push him away, but you hesitated. His heartbeat raced beneath your fingers. “And I fuck you because you deserve to be fucked how you want.”

You felt his nails drag down your hips until he reached the front of your jeans. Quick fingers unbuttoned and pushed them down your legs until you could step out of them when the fabric pooled at your ankles. 

“So tell me, jagiya.” Taehyung’s voice was alluring and deep when he whispered against your ear. He hooked his thumb beneath your underwear’s waistband and tugged. “How do you want it?” 

He was sweaty, bloody, and high on testosterone and adrenaline. And you? You were pissed beyond belief - pissed at Taehyung and Namjoon for being selfish, pissed at yourself for getting into this mess. But then you felt Taehyung’s thumb lightly caress your clit and your mind exploded with marijuana-induced, white-hot pleasure. Standing on your tiptoes, you hugged your arms around his neck rather than push him away. 

“Right here,” you whispered. “Like this.” 

The words barely left your lips before Taehyung was shoving his pants down far enough to release his cock. His velvety skin brushed you and you felt a bit of precum smear on you. Leaning down slightly, his large hands squeezed the back of your thighs. With his chest pressed against your chest and your back pressed against the wall, he effortlessly lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

He’d never admit it if he missed you during the time you were apart, but the way his lips consumed yours and his hands tangled themselves in your shirt told a story on their own. 

“Wait,” you spoke through a moan as Taehyung began grinding his cock in between your swollen lips. He nudged the head of his cock against your clit and you felt like your heart was going to give out. “What about a condom?” 

“You’re on the pill now, right?” he inquired with a soft murmur against your throat. His lips were slightly chapped aside from the spit of your kiss, and you figured it was from the hits he took to the face. 

“Mhmm, but…” How could you say that you were worried about things other than pregnancy if you fucked him without it sounding bad?

“I tested recently. I’m good.” You felt the head of his cock almost slip into your entrance before Taehyung adjusted his position. “I’m not fucking anyone else, jagi. I haven’t in a while.” 

You ran your fingers along his jaw, gently guiding him to look you in the eyes. “Not even Angel?” 

He shook his head and your mind was too clouded by weed, adrenaline, anger, and lust to unpack what Taehyung said. All you could do was whimper your consent and relax your muscles as Taehyung sunk into you. The stretch was easier this time, though Taehyung was thick enough that you felt full. He pulled back to then ease himself into you again with such a deep thrust that you could feel the ridge of his head glide along your walls. The feeling was so sensual that you instinctually dragged your nails into his back. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. So fucking warm.” Taehyung moaned. He pressed his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses lightly brushing against each other. You clenched around his cock when you saw his eyes flutter closed. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Can I go faster?” 

The baby hit you in the chest so hard you couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t baby girl. It was baby. It was baby spoken with such softness you felt like you were going to die. 

“I’m moving to California,” you blurted. 

Taehyung’s movements paused. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but you were forced to open them when Taehyung unwrapped your legs from his body and pulled out of you so you stood in front of him. 

Narrowed eyes studied your face. “What?”

With a deep, slow inhale you tried to focus your fuzzy brain on ordering the correct words in the correct order while your cotton mouth threatened to trip you up. “I transferred to a new school. And I leave at the end of the month.” 

“What, so you’re here to get your last fuck before you dip?” Taehyung snorted, turning his head to the side as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. 

The accusation stung worse than Taehyung’s accusations the night of the party when he accused you of only wanting him because he was forbidden fruit, a boy from the wrong side of the tracks serving as a bit of entertainment until you went back to your perfect life. Your mouth fell open as you watched him tuck his cock, still hard and glistening with your arousal, back into his jeans to zip them up. You suddenly felt very exposed wearing only a t-shirt. 

“You brought me here! What are you talking about?” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes and began walking down the hall. 

“Don’t walk away from me,” you hissed, only mildly shocked by the foreign tone of your voice. Taehyung must have been more surprised than you, though, for he stopped halfway to his bedroom and turned to look at you. 

“What the fuck do you want from me, Y/N?” 

For the second time that day, you wanted to kill him. 

You scooped up your underwear to at least slide that on before you were following the man to his room like he was some petulant teenager. “I already told you, Kim Taehyung. I told you what I wanted from you.” 

Although you’d closed the gap between the two of you, standing strong in the doorway of Taehyung’s bedroom while he stood near the foot of the bed, the coldness of his expression put you miles apart. You weren’t quite sure what desperation felt like; you’d always hoped you’d never feel it, particularly because of a boy. But the way your anxiety was clawing your insides to shreds and your desire to scream and sob until Taehyung understood was disturbing. 

“Why are you like this? I know you feel something, Taehyung. I know you do.” you challenged, stepping forward with blurry vision. The tears didn’t spill, only collected in pools along your eyelashes. “Why aren’t you letting yourself feel?”

Taehyung turned away from you. You watched his jaw clench and unclench; his entire body tensed. When he finally turned back to look at you, his face was scrunched in distress. 

“It would never work out, jagi. People come and go. I mean, look at you. You’re leaving.” He shook his head, sending those waves you loved flopping around his head. “People always leave and expect you to put yourself back together on your fucking own.” 

Taehyung let out a dark chuckle and stared at the floor. “It’s better not to hold on.”

Somehow, it didn’t feel like his words were directed toward you. 

You wanted to be angry, and part of you was. But the angry part of you was drowned out by sadness. You slid your fingers against Taehyung’s hand, twisting to intertwine your fingers with his. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he still didn’t look at you. It wasn’t difficult to guess what he was talking about. You couldn’t imagine losing your mother, no matter how frustrating she was. Maybe if you had, you would be like Taehyung, too. 

“But I haven’t ever broken you.” 

Taehyung slowly brought his gaze back to you and you squeezed his hand more tightly. It was the wrong move; he immediately pulled away. 

“Not yet.” 

You watched Taehyung’s hands drop to unbutton and unzip his jeans, shoving them down until he was only standing in his briefs, cock semi-hard and visible through the fabric. Every movement was tense like his joints were cemented into position and reaching for a towel from his drawer cracked every bone in his arm. You realized he was preparing to take a shower as though you weren’t standing in the middle of his bedroom with your arms wrapped around your chest and tears still welling in your tired eyes. 

“Taehyung,” you called out to ears that wouldn’t hear. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist in a final attempt to catch his attention. 

“What?” The glare he shot you should have been intimidating, but you only knew how to solve relationship conflict in one way. 

You threw your arm around Taehyung’s neck, pulling him down enough to bring his lips to yours. With every flick of your tongue in the inside of his mouth, the less tense Taehyung became. Eventually, he dropped the towel onto the floor and took your waist in his strong hands to pull you flush against his body. His skin was warm and soft, so different from the hateful energy that radiated off of him. 

“What are you doing to me?” he murmured against your lips, using the break from the kiss to pull your t-shirt off. You couldn’t have answered him even if you knew. 

Once your upper body was exposed, Taehyung’s mouth fell to your shoulder, kissing along your collarbone, nipping at your skin. One hand slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear to push it down while his other hand gripped the back of your head, digging his fingers into your scalp. 

“If you’re going to leave me, then I’m going to ruin you for every single piece of shit that fucks you after me,” his voice rumbled against your ear and sent spikes of pleasure to your core. “I don’t want you to be able to fuck anyone else without thinking about me.”

You whimpered as Taehyung pushed you backward until you tumbled onto the bed. The hot throbbing of your clit was so uncomfortable that you squeezed your legs together to try to relieve some of the pressure as you watched Taehyung strip away his boxers. When he noticed he gave you another narrow look and roughly ripped your legs apart by your knees. 

“Nuhh uhhh, you’re gonna stay wide open for me,” he said with a groan as he admired your arousal as it dripped down to your ass and smeared along the inside of your thighs. It was easy for him to drag his cock through your lips, coat him so well that strings of your arousal stuck to his cock when he pulled back to line himself with your entrance. 

“Tae,” you whimpered, bucking your hips enough to force the head of his cock to shallowly dip inside of you. 

Despite the annoyed look he shot you, Taehyung hooked your legs around his arms and swiftly sank into you. Like before, you weren’t sure if it was Taehyung or the weed (probably both), but your vision sparkled with stars and hot white light when Taehyung’s thick head dragged against your front wall. Feeling him inside of you, no condom barrier to mute any sensations, had your legs immediately shaking. 

This time, it felt different. Taehyung fucked you with no mercy, every snap of his hips sending a rippled shudder throughout your body.  

Taehyung pulled out of you until just the tip of his cock was still gripped by the warmth of your pussy. He let his head fall forward and you heard the smack of his lips as he drooled spit directly onto his cock before plunging himself back into you with full force. His spit mixed with his precum and your arousal to allow his cock to glide into you even more smoothly, though you were wet enough for him to drown. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned. Why was he so fucking hot? 

“Oh, you still wanna call me baby?” Taehyung sneered. He spread you apart further as he thrust into you. 

“You fuck me so g-good, Tae,” you whimpered. The harder he pounded into you the more you babbled. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to stop yourself, but you were on the verge of tears as Taehyung’s skilled fingers came down to rub slick circles over your clit. 

“Do I?” 

“Yes, fuck! Yes, Tae. Tae.” You moaned his name over and over again, each time your pitch becoming higher and breathier until you could no longer speak. Sounds got caught in your throat and all you could do was gasp as you went mute, your eyes closed in pleasure.

Taehyung reached with his free hand to grab your throat and gave you an experimental squeeze. When he felt you clench around his pulsing cock he squeezed a bit harder. 

“Speechless, baby girl?” 

And you were. You came with a silent scream, convulsing so tightly and violently around Taehyung’s cock that he was spiraling nearly right after you. You got to ride the orgasmic high you were robbed of earlier, so airy and sweet that you didn’t care when Taehyung’s cum trickled down your thighs. 

When you were finally able to speak, Taehyung had melted into the affection, post-coital version of himself that made your heart race and your mind spiral in confusion. You knew he wanted you to forget, or at least pretend to forget, what he said. You knew he wanted you to ignore the feelings you both knew he wouldn’t address. So, instead of speaking, he tossed you over his shoulder, rubbing your thigh to soothe you. 

“Taehyung, what are you doing?” you asked with a gasp, worried about how messy you were. 

“Bringing you with me to shower.” 

The domesticity of it was almost too much for you to handle. You tried not to read into anything when Taehyung dipped low to give you kisses in between washing your hair, your skin slippery against each other. Or when he pressed you against the shower wall and sank to his knees to take you into his mouth while those alluring eyes stared up at you through wet bangs. 

It only grew worse when you got comfortable sitting on his bed (the same bed you’d lost your virginity on, you couldn’t help but think), wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his basketball shorts. Maybe you were being delusional, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to be sure.

“So…” You played with the hem of Taehyung’s shirt to pick at a thread that might be coming undone. “Angel…” 

Taehyung’s airy laugh wasn’t at all what you’d expected. You quickly looked up to watch him run a product that smelled like vanilla and lavender through his wet hair, so different than his usual smell. His eyes met yours through the mirror. There was never anything in them to read. 

“Angel and Jungkook are exclusive now.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” His eyes returned to his reflection.

“You’re not going to try to get her to cheat?” 

You couldn’t hold back the biting question. Shouldn’t you have been happy that Taehyung wasn’t hooking up with Angel anymore? Now she was no longer a threat to you - not that it even mattered. Yet here you were, sitting on his bed with your arms wrapped around his pillow and a bitter taste in your mouth. Why was Jungkook committed to Angel, but Taehyung couldn’t commit to you? What did Angel have that you didn’t? 

He wasn’t hooking up with anyone else because his favorite girl to hook up with was now dating his best friend. Not because you were special. 

Taehyung slipped his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and turned to you. You kept your eyes focused on his face, not having the heart to linger on the light purple splotches on his ribcage. 

“She already proposed a threesome,” he said with a shrug. The bed dipped and you shifted slightly to allow him to sit beside you. “I declined, though.” 

You crunched up your nose at the idea, the image of Taehyung having sex with Jungkook and Angel flooding your brain. Suddenly the room felt entirely too warm and stuffy. You tossed Taehyung’s pillow to the side and stood up, knocking your phone off your lap. Sucking in as much air as you could, you lifted your chin to the ceiling to practice deep breathing and stop the spontaneous tears that were pooling in your eyes from spilling. 

“What?” Taehyung retrieved your phone and held it out to you, but you kept your eyes upward. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Tae.” You blinked once, twice, and then the tears spilled for the third time that day. “You’re too much. I can’t… I just can’t do it, okay? I can’t.” You knew you weren’t making any sense, but it was all you could say without turning into a blubbering mess. 

With blurry eyes, you took your phone and scooped up your clothes from where you’d left them folded on Taehyung’s dresser. 

“I have to go home.”

“Right now?” Taehyung rose from the bed to follow you out of the room. “The threesome thing was just a joke, Y/N, a joke. Angel’s always fucking running her mouth.”

You didn’t bother to look at him, keeping your lips pressed shut and barely hearing whatever pathetic excuse he’d crafted for you. If you got out of there as quickly as possible, maybe leaving him would hurt less. Maybe you could tell yourself you were crossing that threshold for the last time. Maybe it would be true.

“Can I at least drop you off?” 

“No.” 

Taehyung knew better than to argue with you when you were in a state like this. He watched you stomp into your shoes without bothering to change out of his t-shirt and basketball shorts. He noticed that you’d forgotten your cardigan on the couch, but he didn’t say anything. 

You were determined to make this exit as unceremonious as possible, but then Taehyung’s fingers found your chin and you were tilting up your face to grant him access to your mouth. Your mind went blank with white noise. He gently sucked your bottom lip as he cradled your cheek in his hand, his thumb swiping over a stray tear. 

It was a soft, sweet kiss—a rare kiss from him. Perhaps the last kiss, and you felt your stomach flip. 

“You know where to find me, jagi,” Taehyung whispered the familiar promise against your lips. Your eyes dared to flutter shut, but you pulled together what little dignity you had left and stepped away before you could do something even more stupid. 

For the second time, you stood in the hallway outside of Taehyung’s front door and requested an Uber, his kisses lingering on your lips.

“And this is you, Miss. I hope you have a lovely time. Much better weather here, even in the spring, than up there in Yankee territory.” 

The taxi driver dropped you off in front of a large brownstone building. The university’s banner hung on the porch and a few bikes were thrown onto the yard near the sidewalk. Since you were starting late in the year, no other students were moving in. You couldn’t tell if anyone was home at all. 

You dragged two large suitcases behind you. It was all you could manage to bring since your parents refused to help move you in. Leaving home was a decision you’d made on your own; therefore, you were forced to do it all on your own. 

You didn’t give a fuck, though. 

Hauling the suitcases up the brick stairs to the front door proved to be a bit of a challenge. You tried dragging them both up, but it only took one suitcase tumbling down three steps before you decided to reevaluate your approach. You were halfway done with pulling the second suitcase up the stairs when the front door flew open, caught on a gust of wind that sent the fluffy blonde hair of the boy who stepped outside flying. 

He wore an oversized sweater despite the warm weather, and the light, airy way he held himself made you feel like he probably never sweated a day in his life. The fabric at the collar drooped slightly, exposing a bit of his collarbone. You couldn’t look away from the sharpness of his eyes and the lidded expression he wore that seemed unintentionally sultry, especially paired with his parted plump lips. 

“Hey, Y/N, right? I’m Park Jimin, your Resident Assistant!” When he smiled the intimidating gaze disappeared and his eyes squinted into happy creases. You felt a bit of relief from the heat he’d caused to spread across your body. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes in the same way, but wasn’t disingenuous. It was nice to meet him. He was the first person you’d met at your new university. This was a good first step, right? A good first step toward easing the aching loneliness you’d felt in your chest the moment you boarded the flight to California. 

You wanted friends so badly it hurt. 

Jimin’s bright eyes flitted down to spot your fingers tightly clutching your suitcase on the stairs. He rolled up the baggy sleeves of his sweater. ”Do you need any help bringing your stuff in?” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have-” 

For a guy on the smaller side, Jimin was strong. He gathered both suitcases and disappeared inside the building. 

“I’ll show you where your room is,” he called over his shoulder. 

You quickly followed him, making sure to shut the front door securely behind you. The building was old. A few cracks climbed up the walls like ivy and the intricate cut of the staircase’s wooden railing looked far too pretty to be part of a college dorm. You liked the gothic aesthetic, finding that it gave the building a charm that modern fixtures just couldn’t do. Your parents would have hated it. 

Jimin led you up the front stairs to a long hallway with many doors that you assumed to be bedrooms. Upon closer inspection, you found that each door had decorations that adorned it, with some of the decorations displaying the names of the students who lived inside. Yesenia and Jisoo in one, Carmen and Emily in the other. The bedroom across the hall from yours listed Jimin and Hoseok. 

“Oh, you live here, too?” You pointed to the door once the two of you stopped. 

Jimin’s head tilted back in an explosive giggle that exposed his bright teeth. “Of course, as I said, I’m your Resident Assistant. I’m the student in charge of the dorm. You know, to make sure you don’t get into a fight with your roommate or set the place on fire.” He gestured for you to unlock your room. 

Alexis accompanied your name on the door, so it seemed safe to assume that the girl typing away on her laptop at one of the desks in the room was Alexis. She quickly ripped her glasses off her face and fluffed up her thick, curly hair. 

“Oh my god, wow, hi Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming today. Jimin, wow. You didn’t knock.” The girl’s lips moved faster than her brain and she fumbled over her words, her head twisting like an owl’s as she watched Jimin carry your suitcases over to your side of the bedroom. 

“I should have, I’m sorry.” Jimin gave the girl a pout and you watched her olive skin brighten with a twinge of pink across her cheeks. 

“No, no, it’s okay! You can come into my room whenever you want.” The moment the words left her lips her large eyes shot to yours. You raised your eyebrows, unsure how you were suddenly being silently called upon. “I mean, like, for your RA duties and whatever, I get it!” 

The poor girl was a mess and everyone in the room knew it. You found her apparent interest in Jimin cute, though. It was understandable. You’d just met the guy a few minutes ago and could already tell he was one of those campus heartbreakers they always have in the movies, the ones everyone pines over but are somehow untouchable. They always had a girlfriend at another university or they were fuckboys. 

Whatever Jimin’s story was, you weren’t interested. 

“So,” Jimin turned back to you, and Alexis practically deflated at her desk. “I can give you my number in case you ever need anything. Like if you get locked out or Alexis tries to kill you in your sleep.” 

He shot your roommate a wink as you exchanged numbers and you were sure her soul left her body. 

“You’ve been so helpful, already, thank you.” 

Jimin waved you off. “Don’t worry about it.” He slowly made his way back to the door, leaning against the frame as he looked at you for a moment longer. “I’ll see you around!” 

The moment Jimin closed the door Alexis made a noise that sounded more like a dying animal than a human being. You stared at her with wide eyes as she slid out of her seat and into a puddle on the floor. 

“He’s the prettiest boy in the world,” she said after a moment, lying on her back with her eyes glued to the ceiling. Or perhaps staring into nothing; you weren’t sure. “I wish I was a Music major so I could spend every day going to class with him and listening to him sing and looking at that face sculptured by the gods. And his butt.” 

“Mhmm, he is very attractive,” you agreed, only half listening. You started unpacking your suitcases, mentally mapping out how you’d like to personalize your side of the room to make it feel a bit more like you. You didn’t know what made you feel like you quite yet, but that was what the new university was for. You were going to figure it out.

Alexis was a lovely roommate. Although she was a bit odd, her quirks were endearing and they made her easy to get along with. She was a self-proclaimed nerd which helped you bond since all the two of you ever did was study. Your bedroom, the common rooms in the dorm, the library - it didn’t matter where, just as long as you had the two of each other. The other students living in the dorms were a lot more rambunctious and less focused on academics. It wasn’t rare for you and Alexis to keep each other company while parties raged downstairs. 

There was one thing you wish you could change, though. Alexis snored. This wasn’t some cute snore, either. Her snores were so loud you imagined they were similar to the sound the ground makes when an earthquake breaks it up into pieces beneath civilization. 

Yeah, it was bad. 

In the beginning you were so exhausted from adjusting to school that the snoring hadn’t bothered you. But now you were lying in bed making shapes out of the dark, Alexis’s violent breathing rumbling through the room. 

With a small sigh, you slid into your slippers and snuck through the door, remembering to grab your keys before you left. It was nearly two in the morning on a Wednesday; you didn’t want to lock yourself out of your room and have to call Jimin to let you in. He was certainly a social butterfly, but you doubted he wanted to deal with your problems so late on a school night. 

You planned to raid the kitchen for a snack and maybe watch something on Netflix in the living room. A fuller belly and some quiet TV show might be what you needed to lull you back to sleep again, and hopefully you wouldn’t fall asleep on the couch. It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

It wasn’t until you reached the bottom of the staircase and turned toward the hallway that led to the kitchen that you heard it: a soft, gentle piano melody. With your interest peaked, you followed the sound across the threshold of the living room. You knew in the corner of the room there was an old upright piano, but you’d never seen anyone use it. No one in your dorm seemed to be musically-inclined except Yesenia, but she played the guitar (another sound to keep you up at night).

Although it wasn’t Yesenia, you shouldn’t have been surprised to find Jimin’s hands gliding across the keys with expert precision. He was a Music major, after all. It was easy to forget. You rarely saw Jimin in the dorms, though he always seemed to be around when anyone needed him. You stood watching Jimin lean forward slightly as the song took what felt like a more serious tone, the notes deeper and more haunting. His eyes were closed and his lips were pouted. His entire body rocked with the music, a push and pull of passion. The only light came from a floor lamp in the corner of the room that cast a soft orange glow that turned Jimin’s hair golden. He looked like an angel. 

And then the music stopped. Jimin’s eyes snapped open and he turned to look directly at you. 

“Did I wake you?” he asked softly, placing his hands into his lap. You shook your head quickly. 

“No, no. Alexis was… Um, I couldn’t sleep.” You bit your lip and decided maybe spilling Alexis’s horrible sleeping habits to her crush would be inappropriate of you. “You play beautifully. Yiruma’s A Moonlight Song?”

Jimin’s eyes widened and a lovely grin bloomed across his face. “How did you know?” 

“I used to play,” you admitted shyly, casting your eyes away from the man. One of the many pretentious hobbies your mother forced onto you. “He was always my favorite.” 

Jimin scooted over on the bench and patted the now free space beside him. You were tempted to decline, as you had declined nearly all of his offers to hang out with you in the past month. The excuses were abundant: you were busy with school, busy with your new job at the library, busy hanging out with Alexis. And yes, you were busy, but not too busy to spend time with a friend. You weren’t sure what made you repeatedly turn Jimin down. You also weren’t sure what made him keep trying. 

The pout his lips were beginning to form pushed you to cooperate this time. You hesitantly slid next to him. 

“Play for me?” he inquired in the same soft tone he’d used a moment before. This time the whisper was just against the shell of your ear when Jimin turned to you, and the tickle of his breath made you shiver beneath your sweatshirt. 

When you turned toward him you found that Jimin hadn’t looked away. Your faces were close enough for you to see the glow of the lamp light in his eyes. You inhaled sharply and the breathy sound made Jimin’s eyes fall to your lips. 

“I’m not good at it anymore.” You swiftly moved to face the piano again. 

“Please?” 

Now it was your mouth puckering into a pout, but your fingers lightly rested on the keys anyway. They moved on their own accord, dancing along without your brain needing to tell them where to go. There were only a few songs you could play from memory, most of them Yiruma’s. Your mother played them when you were little, before she lost her inspiration. 

Jimin hummed softly as you played. You caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, but you quickly looked away when you realized he was watching you, rather than the piano. 

“Love me?” 

“What?” you asked. When Jimin spoke, your middle finger pressed too hard on one of the keys, throwing off the groove you had going. You wanted to blame your shakiness on being tired. 

“Off of his second album. Love Me.” Jimin cocked his head to the side. 

“Oh. Right.” You blinked. “I memorized it when I couldn’t read sheet music.” 

Jimin let out a small hum of appreciation. “You’re talented. You should take it up again.” 

A tight knot twisted inside your chest at Jimin’s words. You’d forgotten how cathartic it was to set aside time for self expression, especially when there were no recitals to attend or extravagant parties to entertain at. Playing for the sake of playing was a beautiful thing. 

He watched you for another silent moment, as though he knew you were working hard to breathe through the flood of emotions suddenly seizing your heart. You reached up to swiftly run your fingers along your eyelashes to collect the dampness that had begun to form there. 

“Do you want to get donuts?” The randomness of the question made you exhale a puff of quiet laughter. It managed to chase away the lingering bitterness you felt. 

“Sure?” 

“Sick!” Jimin rose from the bench and adjusted the sleeves of his hoodie. “Have you ever been to Koko’s? Go put some shoes on. We can walk.” 

Koko’s turned out to be a small family-owned donut shop frequented by college students. On your walk Jimin explained that Koko’s was open twenty-four hours which partially contributed to the college students’ love for the shop. It also helped that the donuts were “pretty fucking good” in his words. 

“There’s nothing like a 2 a.m. donut,” he said with a sigh after taking a bite out of a maple bacon donut. 

You opted for something a bit more traditional (or “boring” according to Jimin): a classic glazed donut. The two of you sat on the curb in the parking lot of the shop. Despite the late hour, the inside was packed with college students. It was an already small space, so the two of you couldn’t find anywhere to sit, but you didn’t mind. The night air was comfortably cool and it was nice to stretch your legs out while you watched people file in and out. 

“I might end up here every night.” You licked a bit of the glazed sugar off of your fingers. 

Jimin grunted in agreement, also finishing the last of his donut. “Tell me when you go. I want to come, too.”

Despite your initial hesitancy to spend time with him, it was an easy promise to make. 

“I tried making some once.” You drew your legs up against your chest and wrapped your arms around your knees. The toe of your sneaker scuffed against a loose chunk of asphalt. 

“Did they taste good?” 

“No,” you snorted. “I got something wrong. But I love baking and sweets, so I’ll try anything.” 

Jimin nodded and pulled his legs against his chest in the same manner you had. “You’re really creative.” 

“You think so?” It wasn’t how you’d ever think to describe yourself, but the look on Jimin’s face made you believe him. There was something nice about someone else seeing you. It was nice to be seen. 

“Have you ever thought about studying music in school? You’re a Law major, right?” 

Jimin rested his chin on his knees and watched you with the same unintentionally sultry expression he’d worn the first day you met him. Perhaps this time it was the dim lighting playing with his features. Regardless, it was impossible to look away. 

“Law is more practical.” Before you even finished the sentence you were already slapping your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” 

“It’s fine,” Jimin said with a reassuring smile. “Everyone says studying music is impractical. That I won’t find a job or make any money. I don’t really care, though. It’s what my heart wants.” He stood up and held out his hand to help you stand as well. It wasn’t until you were back in your dorm that Jimin brought up music again. 

“And Y/N,” Jimin called to you softly. 

You poked your head out of your bedroom door to see him still standing in the hallway outside of his room. “Yes?” 

“You should do what your heart wants, too.” He gave you a smile just as soft as his words before wishing you goodnight. 

“Look at this one.” Alexis pressed her fingers to the base of her neck and dramatically cleared her throat. “Roses are red, violets are blue, I’ve never met anyone as sexy as you. So cringey, oh my god.”

You crinkled your nose at the terrible Valentine’s Day poem taped to a door on one of the university’s academic buildings. The poems were taped all over campus. They served as fliers to advertise some fraternity’s annual Valentine’s Day party. 

“It’s the one Jimin is in,” Alexis pointed out as she ripped the flyer down. Her bag was full of them at this point and it seemed like each flyer the two of you happened across was worse than the previous. 

“Jimin’s in a fraternity?” You crossed the street with Alexis as you walked back to your dorm. You walked past a streetlight with another bright pink paper taped to it. 

“Yup.” Alexis stuck her arm across you to snatch that flyer, too. “Ew, gross. Roses are red, violets are blue, let’s cut the foreplay and head straight to the bedroom. Are they even allowed to post this kind of language around town? And with those disgusting, censored porn memes?”

“No, actually. Obscene public advertisements are very illegal.” 

You and Alexis whipped your heads around to find Jimin trailing behind you. Alexis quickly shoved the flyer into your hands as if she wasn’t already carrying around a backpack full of them. 

“Oh. Hi, Jimin. How are you doing? We were just admiring the…” She shot you a nervous look. Of course. 

You did your best to smooth out the flyer and handed it to Jimin as he fell in line with you as you walked. “Sorry,” you mumbled, face heating up.

“Don’t worry about it.” His giggle eased a bit of the tension. “Are you two going?” 

“Absolutely not. We have essays to write.” 

Jimin stuck his tongue out at Alexis before turning to you expectantly. “Don’t let her speak for you, Y/N. Do you want to go?” 

“Oh, um, I don’t really go to parties…” You hated how lame you sounded. Partying had never been an option before. Not unless you were with Taehyung. And everything about Jimin had you assuming going out with him would be a much different experience than with Taehyung. 

“Parties aren’t my thing, either. But you deserve a break from so much studying.” Those happy, soft eyes creased by puffy cheeks made your chest ache, though you weren’t sure why. “Be my date?”

You heard Alexis choke on either air or her own spit beside you, but you stayed focused on the beautiful boy flanking the other side of you. 

“M-Me?”

“Yes, you!” 

Somehow the three of you now stood outside your apartment’s front door. Jimin fished for his lanyard while you and Alexis silently eyed each other. You didn’t know what kind of face you were making, but Alexis’s expression was a mix of horror and something akin to anger or, more likely, jealousy. The lock you had on each other’s gaze was broken by Jimin gesturing for the two of you to enter the building before him. 

“Y/N?” Jimin leaned against the staircase railing as you and Alexis ascended. “Think about it?”

You had exactly five hours to mull it over. At least half of that time consisted of Alexis on her “anti-Greek life” soapbox. 

“Their hazing practices are unlawful, Y/N. They do horrible things to each other.” She paced the space between your beds with one of the fliers crumpled in her hands. “And they throw these parties to take advantage of girls. The fliers!” 

Just like with most of her other rants, you were barely listening to Alexis as you laid on your bed writing a text to Jimin only to delete it before hitting send. Then to rewrite. And then delete. Rewrite again. 

“Alexis, will you please go with me?” You tried pouting, but you weren’t in your small town anymore. There were lots of pretty faces in California. Yours did nothing to sway your roommate who threw herself onto her bed when she realized you were going to go. Whatever her response was, it came out garbled and muffled by the fact that her face was pressed into her blankets.

So dramatic. 

And perhaps you were being a bit dramatic, too. You skipped the pregame Jimin invited you to, insisting that you would meet him at the frat house on your own. For someone still figuring out how to talk to other people, you weren’t particularly keen on spending hours binge drinking and playing games with a bunch of frat bros and their groupies. The party would probably be too much for you, anyway. It would just be more binge drinking and playing games with a bunch of frat bros and their groupies. 

Alexis was probably right. 

You were probably going to hate it. 

The night was already starting off on a bad note. Your powder blue babydoll dress didn’t fit the Valentine’s Day theme, but you realized with frustrated tears in your eyes as you stood in front of a mountain of clothes in your dorm that it was the only thing cute enough for a college party. It didn’t help that despite getting it cleaned, you still thought it smelled like oak and spice. Like Taehyung. You couldn’t help but fall into the cyclical thinking you always fell into as you approached the frat house, remembering the empty feeling you’d felt when Taehyung neglected you for most of the party that night. Maybe the Valentine’s Day party would be a repeat of that. There was always someone more interesting to entertain, you supposed. That had been true for Taehyung then; it may be true for Jimin now.

And there was the prettiest boy in the world, perched on the wooden railing that bordered the front porch of the fraternity house. He leaned with his elbows on his knees, a sweating beer grasped in his musician’s hands. He was there, waiting for you just like he said he would be.

“Jimin!” You didn’t have the fake the enthusiasm needed to raise your voice over the music and laughter filtering through the house as you bounced up the porch’s stairs. 

Jimin grinned into his eyes when he stood to greet you. Gone were the shorts and oversized comfy sweaters. Gone were the fluffy bangs; his blonde hair was straight and swept off of his forehead. It was shocking to see your friend in ripped jeans so tight they didn’t leave much for the imagination and a muscle tank ripped far enough down the sides that you could see his chest when he turned. 

“You’re so pretty,” Jimin spoke with a gesture to your outfit. 

“You’re so fratty,” you countered with a sly smile. 

You liked the idea of testing out a bit of banter, especially when you earned a sweet Jimin giggle in response. It was almost enough of a reward to carry you through the most painful part of the night, when Jimin dragged you through every corner of the house to have you meet more boys wearing tattered sports jerseys and backwards baseball caps while you sipped shitty beer. It wasn’t until Jimin seemingly ran out of favorites that you had a moment to yourselves. 

“Your friends seem…” Your eyes swept over the living room where couples danced together to a playlist that somehow ranged from The Killers to Kesha and DMX. 

“Stupid?” 

“Nice.” 

Jimin snorted, but the grin he wore was apparently permanent for tonight. His eyes followed yours into the crowd. “Do you dance?” He tsked when you immediately shook your head. “Everyone dances. Dance with me?” 

Yet again, how could you say no?

Jimin’s hand was gentle but firm against the small of your back. He led you a bit of a ways into the crowd, but didn’t push you further than it seemed you wanted to go.

“Shall we waltz?” He gave you a cheeky grin and you noticed that he hadn’t lifted his hand. You felt the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of your dress. Unlike when you’d gone out with Taehyung, Jimin didn’t pull you against him; he let you fall in line with him instead. He slowly eased into a fluid rhythm, rolling his hips along to the song. 

“Hmm, I would if I knew how,” you spoke loud enough for him to hear above the music. “I have no rhythm at all, for any kind of dance.” 

Jimin shook his head. “Dancing is easy. You just make it up as you go…” He brought his other hand to rest against your hip and applied enough gentle pressure to push you to one side. His other hand slid from your back to the other hip. He began to alternate pressure until he had your hips swaying along with his. “Like this.” 

The song changed and so did Jimin’s instruction. He guided you through each transition, teasing you every time you tensed up. 

“You have to feel it!” 

“I do!” 

“Then listen to the feeling,” he challenged. “Don’t think too hard.” 

The more crowded the room got, the closer the two of you were pushed together, until you had you found your arms hanging loosely against Jimin’s shoulders and your legs practically intertwined as you danced against one another. 

“Hi,” Jimin whispered against the shell of your ear. He leaned in close enough that your chin momentarily rested against his collarbone before he pulled away. Though he created a bit more distance between you again, your legs stayed slotted between each other and Jimin kept his hand on the small of your back. 

“Hi,” you parroted back, your shy smile making a bright grin bloom across Jimin’s face.

“Having fun?” 

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and it was impossible not to notice Jimin’s eyes drop down to stare at your mouth. 

“Yeah,” you replied in a breathy tone. 

Jimin hummed in response. His hips continued to roll into yours to the beat of the music. Your fingers instinctually squeezed Jimin’s shoulder when you felt his cock grind against the inside of your thigh the next time his fluid body moved with yours. You felt him the moment the two of you started grinding on each other; it was impossible not to. But he was soft then, and now he was semi-hard. Now you felt him heavy and warm through his jeans. 

Your eyes quickly lifted to look at Jimin. He was already watching you with those plump pink lips slightly parted. Gone was his sweet, puffy-cheeked expression. The lidded, sultry sharpness of his eyes made your entire body prickle with heat. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Making the conscious decision to speak rather than freeze or simply nod your head had your anxiety spiking through the roof. But you did it. Despite the shattering pounding of your heart trying to choke you out your throat, you opened your mouth. 

“Yes, please.” 

Jimin’s hold on you tightened and he finally made the first move to pull you firmly against his chest. He tasted like watered down beer and spiked punch, so much softer than Taehyung’s heavy smoke and vodka. Jimin’s teeth pressed against your lips, but rather than bite you, the sharpness was simply from him smiling. He exhaled a tiny puff of air against your cheek through his nose that released a quiet, bubbly laugh. There was no fight for dominance between teeth, lips, and tongues. His fingers didn’t bruise your hips when he held you. The sounds he gifted you beneath the heavy bass of the music were soft moans, not harsh growls or frustrated whines. 

Kissing Jimin was like falling into clouds of strawberry vanilla swirls at sunrise. It was like riding with the windows down on a golden summer day, letting the warm air tickle your nose and the hair on your arms. 

Kissing Jimin felt like something you’d never felt before. 

Kissing Jimin felt safe. 

When he pulled away you weren’t left out of breath, but you still gasped for his touch, lips chasing his. 

“I want to take you upstairs,” he murmured against your jaw just below your ear. 

It was hard to know who initially led the way through the swarm of sweaty bodies and up the front staircase. Your limbs were tangled with Jimin’s, the two of you nearly tripping over someone passed out in the hallway as Jimin jiggled door handles until he found one that was unlocked. You took no time to bother looking around the bedroom you were in, and Jimin didn’t give you the chance even if you wanted to. 

He gently pressed you into the mattress, his hand reaching toward the back of his head to pull his shirt off. 

“Wow.” You trailed your fingers along the muscles of Jimin’s torso, your hand growing shakier the lower you got. You couldn’t bring yourself to reach for his belt, even when he bucked his hips into yours and you felt his cock grind in between your thighs. Everything Jimin did was distracting. His soft lips were sucking along your collarbone, his talented fingers rubbing gentle circles into your waist. He was playing you, hitting every note like he’d known you all along. 

But it was too much. 

You squeezed his wrist when you felt his hands begin to push your dress up your hips. He looked up at you with such fucked out eyes that stood out prettily against eyebrows that scrunched together in concern. 

“Do you want to stop? I’m sorry, we can stop. I’m so sorry, I went too fast.” He immediately pulled away to lean back on his knees. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” 

“No…” You slowly eased into a sitting position and adjusted your dress. “Well, I mean, yes.” 

Jimin’s frown deepened. “What?” 

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to look him in the eyes. “I really like you. So, don’t apologize, okay? I just…” Another deep breath. Another pat down of your dress. “I just got out of a relationship and I think I need to just… be myself for a little bit. I don’t think I’m ready to try out anything with anyone else yet.” 

You scrunched up your nose and subconsciously matched Jimin’s frown. But then his frown turned into the soft Jimin smile you were becoming so used to seeing. 

“Oh, okay. I totally get that.” He reached for his shirt to slip over his head once again. “I was so scared that I’d misread the whole thing. But I think that’s really strong of you.” 

You slid off of the bed and averted your eyes when Jimin stood to adjust his cock in his jeans. “Why strong?” 

“Relationships are hard to bounce back from. You have every right to take time for yourself.” Jimin wrapped his pinky around yours and tugged until you turned back to look at him. He brought his other hand up to cup your chin when you refused to meet his eye. “Hey, look at me. I’m not upset, okay? And even if I was, who the fuck cares.” 

You nodded, but he wasn’t so sure. 

“You take all the time you need, okay? I’m not going anywhere. And if you decide you don’t want this,” he gestured to the two of you. “Then you’re still going to be one of my dearest friends. You got that?” 

Of course you did. Even if you were too afraid to admit that this was what you wanted, despite knowing that time was also what you knew you needed, Jimin’s smiling eyes were enough to ease the churning of your tummy. And maybe if you could just wipe your clammy hands on his shirt, you might be all but perfect. 

You tossed your arms over Jimin’s shoulders and squeezed him tightly against you. “Thank you. For being thoughtful.” Your voice was muffled against his shirt, and maybe from a few tears, but he heard you and that was all that mattered. 

“That’s why I’m the best Resident Assistant out there,” he said with a playfully cocky grin. 

You rolled your eyes and straightened yourself out with a long exhale. “Should we go back to waltzing now?” 

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[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Tyrell in the Lion's Den (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 2.4k

Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Tyrell!reader

Summary: Y/n grapples with the precarious balance of power in her dangerous relationship with Tywin Lannister, questioning her role as a pawn or partner in his world while secretly desiring control over her own fate 

_________________________________________________

The air in King’s Landing felt different after Joffrey's death—tense and brittle, like a string pulled too tightly. Whispers filled the halls of the Red Keep, and every conversation seemed to carry a hidden meaning, a layer of subtext that only the most cunning could untangle. As I moved through the court, I felt the weight of Varys’ words pressing on me. His warning lingered in my mind: 

Tywin’s power is built on fear and manipulation. What happens when you’re no longer useful?

I had always known the danger of my relationship with Tywin. It had started as a distraction, a game to break the monotony of court life. But over time, it had turned into something far more dangerous. Our secret meetings, the stolen moments of intimacy, had slowly given way to deeper conversations. Tywin was different with me than he was with others—still cold and calculating, but there was a vulnerability that he kept hidden from the world. I had seen glimpses of it, in the quiet moments when we were alone.

But now, with the political landscape shifting beneath my feet, I wasn’t sure where I stood with him. Was I merely a tool, a means to an end? Or had I become something more? And did I even want to know the answer?

A few nights after my encounter with Varys, I was summoned to Tywin’s chambers once more. The fire crackled warmly as I entered, but there was a chill in the air that made me pause. Tywin was seated at his desk, as always, his expression unreadable. His gaze flickered over me as I approached, and for a moment, I thought I saw something in his eyes—something softer, almost tender—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sit,” he said, his voice steady.

I took my seat, my heart pounding. We had shared so much over these past weeks, but tonight felt different. The political tension weighed heavily on us both, and I could sense a shift in Tywin. He was not a man prone to displays of emotion, but I had learned to read the subtle signs—the way his jaw tightened when he was agitated, the brief flicker of doubt in his eyes before he steeled himself once more.

“Have you gathered the information I requested?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” I replied, handing him a small scroll. “There are murmurs of sympathy for Tyrion among some of the lesser lords. Nothing concrete, but enough to be wary of.”

Tywin unrolled the scroll and scanned it, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Good. This will be useful.”

I hesitated, the weight of Varys’ warning heavy on my tongue. Should I tell him? Would he dismiss my concerns, or would he see it as a betrayal that I had even listened to the spymaster? I had to choose my words carefully.

“There’s something else,” I said slowly, watching Tywin’s reaction.

He raised an eyebrow but remained silent, waiting for me to continue.

“Varys approached me,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “He warned me that I don’t understand the game I’m playing. He said that those who stay too close to the Lannisters might be swept away when the winds of change come.”

Tywin’s expression remained unreadable, but I saw the way his fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the desk. For a long moment, he said nothing, and I could feel the tension building between us. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and dangerous.

“Varys is a master of manipulation. He thrives on sowing doubt and confusion. You would do well to remember that.”

I nodded, but his response did little to ease my growing unease. “And yet... what he said made me think. Am I truly playing the game, Tywin? Or am I just a pawn?”

Tywin leaned forward, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. “You are far more than a pawn, Y/n. But the game we play is not for the faint-hearted. It is ruthless, and it requires more than loyalty. It demands cunning, patience, and an understanding of power that few possess.”

He paused, his gaze softening for the briefest moment. “You have that potential. But you must never waver.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “And what if I do?”

Tywin’s expression hardened once more. “Then you will fall, like so many before you.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but they also stirred something inside me. For so long, I had been content to play my part quietly, to remain in the background, supporting Margaery and navigating the court without drawing too much attention. But now, I realized, I needed to be more. I needed to take control of my own destiny, rather than relying on the whims of others.

“I won’t fall,” I said, my voice steady.

Tywin regarded me for a moment, as if weighing my resolve. Then, unexpectedly, he reached across the desk and took my hand in his. His touch was firm, but there was a tenderness there that I hadn’t expected.

“Good,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin. “Because I cannot afford to lose you.”

The admission hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it. But the way his grip lingered, the way his eyes softened as they met mine, told me that it was real. Tywin Lannister, the most powerful man in Westeros, had just revealed a vulnerability that I hadn’t thought him capable of.

As the days passed, I found myself thinking more and more about Tywin’s words—and his touch. There was no denying the connection between us, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was dangerous, that it would lead to something neither of us could control.

I threw myself into my tasks, gathering more information, carefully navigating the dangerous waters of the court. But Varys’ warning lingered in the back of my mind. I began to be more cautious, more strategic in my conversations. I no longer trusted blindly, not even in my dealings with Tywin. I kept some of what I learned to myself, uncertain of how much to share with him, or if I should share it at all.

And yet, despite my growing wariness, I found myself drawn deeper into Tywin’s world. Our meetings grew more frequent, our conversations more intimate. He was careful not to reveal too much of himself, but there were moments—fleeting, but undeniable—where I saw the cracks in his armor. Moments where he allowed himself to be vulnerable with me, to let his guard down.

It was in those moments that I realized something dangerous: Tywin Lannister had started to care for me in a way that went beyond mere strategy or convenience. And I, in turn, had started to care for him.

But love, in King’s Landing, was as dangerous as any weapon. And I was beginning to wonder if, in playing the game of thrones, I had already lost.

______________________________________________________________

The fire in Tywin's chambers was burning low, casting a warm, golden glow over the room as I lay beside him. We had just spent another night wrapped in each other’s arms, where the heavy burdens of court politics and the games we played were momentarily left behind. In these moments, Tywin became someone different. The hardened exterior of the man feared by kings and lords softened, and I, too, found myself unraveling—becoming something more vulnerable and honest than the sharp-tongued woman I was during the day.

His fingertips grazed my bare shoulder, absentmindedly tracing patterns on my skin. Neither of us spoke for a long time. We didn’t need to. Here, in the stillness of his bed, words were unnecessary. This was the only place where we could be ourselves, where the pressures of the court and the expectations of others couldn’t touch us.

But eventually, I broke the silence. “Do you ever think about what it would be like if we didn’t have to hide?”

Tywin’s hand stilled on my shoulder, and I turned my head to look at him. His eyes, always so guarded, flickered with something I couldn’t quite read. “In another life, perhaps,” he said quietly. “But we live in this one, and we must play the roles we’ve been given.”

I sighed softly, leaning into his touch. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is not simple,” he admitted, his voice taking on a rare softness. “But it is necessary.”

I shifted in the bed, propping myself up on one elbow to look at him more closely. “And if we didn’t have to play those roles? If we could be just... us?”

Tywin’s gaze held mine for a long moment, and I could see the conflict there. He was not a man accustomed to letting his guard down, even in private. But with me, he had begun to show glimpses of the man beneath the armor. “I would choose that life,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we don’t live in a world that allows such choices.”

I nodded, though his words sent a pang through my chest. I had known, from the beginning, that this affair was dangerous—that it was built on fragile ground. But I hadn’t expected the pull between us to grow so strong, or for the emotions to become so tangled.

“What about you?” Tywin asked, his tone shifting slightly. “You’ve played this game longer than you realize, but you’ve never told me what you truly want. Not as a Tyrell. Not as someone bound to court. What do you want, Y/n?”

I hesitated. No one had ever asked me that before. Not my family, not Margaery, not the court. And certainly not Tywin. He had always been the one with the plans, the strategies. I had fallen into his orbit, drawn by the power and intrigue he exuded. But in this moment, stripped of all pretense, I realized something.

“I want power,” I said, my voice steady. “Not the kind that comes from sitting on a throne or wearing a crown. I want control over my own destiny. I want to stop playing the part of a pawn in other people’s games.”

Tywin’s eyes darkened with interest. “You’ve always had that potential. You just need to harness it.”

“And what if I don’t want to be bound by anyone?” I asked, my voice a little sharper than I intended. “Not even by you?”

Tywin’s lips curled into a faint smile. “I would never bind you. You’re too valuable to be controlled. But you must decide where your loyalty lies. In this game, alliances are everything.”

As the trial of Tyrion Lannister unfolded, the court buzzed with anticipation. Every word spoken in that courtroom carried weight, and every movement was watched with scrutiny. Tyrion, as always, defended himself with sharp wit and intelligence, but the evidence against him was overwhelming. The court was rigged, and we all knew it.

Margaery was restless. Though Joffrey’s death had been a blessing in disguise, it left her future uncertain. Tommen, the new king, was kind but weak, a boy easily swayed by those around him. Margaery’s ambition burned brighter than ever.

“I must marry Tommen,” she told me one afternoon, her voice filled with determination as we walked through the gardens. “It’s the only way to secure our position. The Lannisters hold too much power, and we cannot afford to lose our standing.”

“You’ve always wanted to be queen,” I said with a small smile.

“Of course,” she replied, her eyes glinting. “But not just a queen. The queen. I want to rule, Y/n, not just sit beside a king. And with Tommen, I will. He’s young, malleable. Cersei won’t know what hit her.”

I watched my sister closely, admiring the way she played her cards so carefully. She had always been the more charming of the two of us, the one who could disarm anyone with a smile. But I knew her well enough to see the ambition lurking just beneath the surface.

“And what about you?” she asked, turning the conversation back to me. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Lord Tywin.”

I raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “I have my own ambitions.”

Margaery smiled knowingly. “You always were more cunning than the rest of us gave you credit for.”

I shrugged, not giving her more than that. Margaery was my sister, but even she didn’t know the full extent of my relationship with Tywin. She didn’t know how deeply I was embedded in the Lannisters’ world, or how much I had learned about playing the game in my time by Tywin’s side.

That night, in Tywin’s chambers, I decided to test my newfound resolve. As we lay together, our limbs entwined, I turned to him, my voice soft but clear.

“I want more than just to be a piece in this game, Tywin. I want to be part of the strategy. I want power, and I’m not afraid to take it.”

He turned to me, his expression unreadable in the flickering firelight. “And what do you propose?”

I smiled, a slow, deliberate smile. “You’re the most powerful man in Westeros. And I... I have access to places and people you can’t always reach. Together, we could control more than just the court. We could control everything.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed, but there was a glint of intrigue there. “And what is your price?”

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing his ear as I whispered, “I want to stand beside you—not behind you. If we’re going to play this game, then we do it as equals.”

For a long moment, Tywin said nothing. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Very well,” he said, his voice low and measured. “But be careful what you wish for, Y/n. Once you step into the game fully, there is no turning back.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied.

In the days that followed, I threw myself into my new role, carefully gathering information and strengthening my position within the court. Tywin and I became partners in more than just secrecy—we became a formidable force, each using our unique strengths to maneuver through the treacherous waters of King’s Landing.

But as the trial continued, and Tyrion’s fate hung in the balance, I couldn’t help but wonder: How long could I play this dangerous game before it consumed me entirely? And would Tywin, for all his power, ever let me walk away?

The answer, I knew, lay in the game itself. And in King’s Landing, the game never truly ended.

[elliesbelle]

wish she was you

ellie williams one-shot

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you call your ex-girlfriend ellie late one night, needing to hear the sound of her voice.

content warnings: modern au, angst, mentions of break-up, ex-girlfriend!ellie, cheating (both ellie and reader), mentions of a slightly toxic relationship, slight mentions of sexual yearning (nothing graphic or descriptive), one line that implies reader has a vagina but if you do not have one we're gonna say it's just a metaphor or something :), brief description of violence (just ellie wanting to punch an inanimate object but she doesn't), red string of fate trope, no comfort? idk it's up to you to decide, minors do not interact

word count: 1.3k

based on the hinder song "lips of an angel"

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Ellie whispers into her phone as she warily peers through the murky glass of the balcony windows into her apartment’s living room. 

Her new girlfriend Haru was lounging on the couch, lazily scrolling through different streaming services for something to watch. Ellie had excused herself from the room after her phone suddenly began to ring incessantly with a phone call. She’d muttered hastily that it was Dina and that she should go answer it or she wouldn’t hear the end of it the following day. Haru smiled plainly and told her to go right ahead and to not take too long. She was completely oblivious that it was, in fact, not Dina who kept blowing up Ellie’s phone with call after call. It was you. 

“Why are you calling so late? Is everything okay?” She asks quickly and quietly. Her eyebrows furrow when she hears you sniffle. 

“I just—I don’t know, I…” You start to stutter. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, honey.” 

You let out an involuntary sob upon hearing Ellie’s old pet name for you. 

“I just… I just needed to hear your voice.” 

Despite having been broken up for over a year, Ellie still melts hearing you this. 

It was both shocking and yet expected when you and Ellie had called it quits. It was more than clear to everyone just how in love you were with one another. You were rarely ever seen without each other in public, always attached to the hip. Her presence was almost like an essential part of your body, and to be without her made you feel lacking and unfinished. You were so ardently enamoured with each other that it felt like you’d be blissfully in love for life. 

But with the passion came drama and fury, and this ultimately became the downfall of your intense relationship with Ellie Williams. Your ways of expression and articulation were so vastly different from each other’s. She was restless and fervently independent, sometimes far too much for your liking. Her constant need for attention and validation eventually led her to greener pastures, leaving you stuck and alone in the wake of her chaos. 

The magical red cord that tied you to Ellie, however, never severed. Even during times that you wished you weren’t, you knew instinctively that you’d always remain connected to each other. Even when you’d both found different partners to attach yourselves to in distraction, her with Haru and you with your new girlfriend Jessica, your pull towards each other never ceased to fail. You never really moved on as you always came back to her and her to you. 

“Is Haru there?” You ask. 

“Umm,” Ellie hums, glancing at her girlfriend through the glass that separated them. “Yeah. She’s in the next room.” 

“Oh.” You say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt or anything.” 

“No, no, we’re just hanging out. We weren’t doing anything important.” 

You smile slightly at Ellie’s familiar need to reassure you. 

“That’s why I kind of have to whisper right now. C-Can’t be too loud.” She continues. 

“I see.” 

There’s a moment of silence between you two, not awkward but still thick and heavy. 

“Everything okay with Jessica?” Ellie suddenly inquires. 

“U-umm, y-yeah.” You respond hesitatingly. “Everything’s good. She’s still at work right now. Working a late shift.” 

“I see.” 

Another moment of silence. 

“Does… does she know you’re still talking to me?” Ellie asks. 

“No.” 

“Won’t that start a fight between you two?” 

“Probably.” 

“Honey…” 

“Does Haru know you’re still talking to me?” 

“N-no. Not a clue.” 

Another moment of silence. 

“I had a dream about you last night.” You murmur. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What was it about?” 

“I-I don’t think I should say.” 

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” 

Even over the phone, Ellie can feel the heat that was rising to your cheeks at her boldness. 

“Ellie, come on.” 

“Hey, you brought it up.” She whispers with a smirk, trying to ignore the sickly sweetness that came with the way you say her name. 

“Whatever.” You sniggle. 

Another moment of silence. 

“That’s funny, though.” She sighs softly. “I dreamt of you too. Last night.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah. I did.” 

“What was it about?” 

“Hey, you didn’t wanna tell me about your dream. Don’t think it’s fair for you to hear mine.” 

“Oh, come on.” You whine at her cheekiness. “That’s not fair.” 

“What do you mean it’s not fair? You brought up a dream that you had about me but refused to tell me about it. So you don’t get to know about mine either, angel.” 

Fire ignites every inch of your skin upon hearing her whisper yet another old pet name for you. Your favourite one, in fact. And you know that she knows it. 

“Mine is… a little too risqué to repeat out loud.” You admit. 

“Oh? Risqué, huh?” 

“Far too crude to repeat to my ex-girlfriend.” 

“A little cruel to tease me like that, angel.” 

Ellie feels the flames engulfing your entire body at her tantalizing flirting, grinning slyly and proudly to herself over the way she can still fluster you after all this time. 

“I mean,” She continues. “For all you know, my dream may have been a little ‘risqué’ too.” 

She hears you gulp heavily. 

“Was it?” You whisper. 

“I guess you’ll never know.” 

Another moment of silence. 

“It’s… it’s really good to hear your voice, you know.” She reveals, her voice serious. 

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I missed yours.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Good?” 

“Want you to always be missing me, angel.” 

“Ellie…” 

“Can’t help it. Not if it’s you.” 

“I-I know. It’s the same for me too.” 

“I know.” 

Another moment of silence. 

“Why am I always so weak for you?” She whispers, frustrated. 

“Because I have a magic pussy and you can’t help yourself.” 

“Babe!” Ellie exclaims loudly. 

“Yeah?” 

Both you and Ellie freeze, knowing neither of you had said that. Ellie whips her head towards the inside of her apartment, spotting her girlfriend Haru still sitting on the couch but now glancing towards her on the balcony. Ellie gazes at her innocent but inquiring expression, feeling deep remorse immediately flooding her senses. 

“N-nothing! Never mind!” Ellie calls out from behind the closed glass doors. 

“What’s up?” Haru presses. 

“I-I’ll ask you later!” 

“Oh, alright!” Haru relents, going back to watching some innocuous show on the television. Ellie turns her back to her girlfriend and faces the starry night sky, sighing both in relief and guilt. 

“I-I should go.” She murmurs to you. 

“Do you have to?” 

“Honey, you know I do.” 

Ellie’s heart cracks slightly at the sound of more sniffles from your end. 

“Why?” You ask stubbornly. 

“You know why.” Ellie fights an amused chuckle at your bullheadedness. 

“Yeah… I know.” 

Another moment of silence. 

“I love you, El.” You whisper riskily. 

“I… I love you too, angel.” She replies. Your heart breaks at the hesitation in her voice. 

“I’ll talk to you later?” You ask desperately. 

Another moment of silence. 

“M-maybe.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Your eyes well up with tears at hearing her unclear promise. 

“Bye, angel.” She murmurs. 

“Bye, honey.” You whisper. 

Three robotic tones signal the end of the phone call. 

You immediately break down in more hot tears, your misery and desolation worse than before. You knew it was your choice to reach out to Ellie once more, and you knew and accepted the chances of your heart getting crushed again. But hearing the voice of your ex-girlfriend sweetly whispering for you before returning to her new girlfriend was still an agonizing feeling. You would spend the following nights laying next to Jessica, tossing and turning as you over-analyzed Ellie’s every word and wondering if she still really loved you back. 

Little did you know that Ellie was fighting the urge to punch the glass doors of her balcony at that very moment, the feeling of despair and yearning matching that of yours. The red string tugs at her soul once again, cruel and unrelenting and forever refusing to let her forget the sound of her name on your lips. 

author’s notes:

wrote this late last night in a drunken stupor after listening to this song in the car with my ex (live-in ex) and my sister after a fun, halloween-y night. i got randomly inspired, it's such a banger. raise your hand if you first hear this song from a remix on dance dance revolution.

don't worry, i am very much writing all the other works y'all have been asking for (i know i keep saying that, but y'all know i'm a crazy perfectionist). i just try to write when i can, and somehow drunken me knew they could write this in basically one go, and since i haven't been publishing much in a while, i thought i'd do it anyway. hope y'all liked it <3

as it always is in all my works, the names in this fic are very intentional, so the name of ellie's new girlfriend “haru” is purposeful. but i shall not disclose the reasoning because heehee

a lot of the exposition and descriptions of ellie’s and reader’s relationship may have been inspired by my co-star chart with someone very specific, shut up don’t judge me

the “magical red chord” i mention is meant to represent the concept of “the red string of fate.” y’all know how much of a slut i am for the soulmate trope.

reader’s new girlfriend jessica is named after this girl i’m kind of seeing, is it crazy yes it is but whatever

the line of "not if it's you" is based on the euripedes quote that anne carson translated

the quote is kind of part of my brand on my personal main tumblr account cause a post of mine went viral with me talking about that quote and people associate it with me so often to this day (literally friends would be sending screenshots of my post that other people uploaded onto twitter or instagram or facebook, it still makes me scream). thought i'd include it for funsies (if this gives you a clue to what my personal tumblr account is and you realize who i am, no you don't <3)

hope y'all enjoyed this spur-of-the-moment fic of mine :) i'm working on publishing the rest of my works sometime soon, so be patient with me please! my life has been awful and not great recently, but writing is my love and my passion and my escape, so i would never abandon y'all <3

taglist: @carmellie, @idkshaiz, @sawaagyapong

[ornii]

I didn’t realize how much people liked the Clark Kent Smallville X Wednesday Crossover. So I have to do a Part 2! Where you can read here!

The God Among Men, Part 2

(Y/n) and Wednesday continue to stare at each other. (Y/n)’s concentration breaks and he plummets from the sky to a loud bang on the ground, Wednesday quickly puts her string down and rushes to the balcony’s edge to see his fate. She peers over the railing and was surprised to see (Y/n) sitting up, rubbing his back.

“Ow..” he said, a fall that height should cause serious damage to the body but it looks like it did nothing to him. (Y/n) realizes just how bad this looks, his attention turns upward to Wednesday.

“Umm, Sorry!” He yells, before standing up to run away out of embarrassment. He hoped that this would be a singular mishap and leave it at that, unfortunately this is Wednesday Addams, and nothing is singular with her. (Y/n) unfortunately shared a chemistry class together so avoiding her was useless. The next morning was more than awkward, he kept his eyes locked on Miss Thornhill to avoid Wednesdays side eye. When class ends almost like a blur he’s already trying to get to the quad to lose Wednesday, getting round a corner he breathed a sigh of relief. Until Wednesday comes almost out of nowhere and pins him to the wall. Granted he towers over her at 5’11, her 5’1 absolutely intimidating stature wasn’t something the Kansas boy was used to.

“So, we have a peeping Tom in our midsts.” She keeps that cold, deathstare.

“No! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, I was just listening to your music and I, got too close..” he sheepishly keeps his eyes from locking on hers.

“They’d expel you for what you’ve done, but.. I’ll consider looking the other way..” she said, his eyes slowly locked with hers. “For your undying service..”

“Undying Service? That, seems a bit extreme doesn’t it? Why not something more, mild?” He asks awkwardly.

“I don’t do mild. Either take my offer or be shipped away to a juvenile prison.”

“.. okay, fine.” He relents, Wednesday wasn’t your typical mean girl, she wasn’t mean she was, cold, Unnerving, probably dead too. But she knew how to use people to her advantage, no matter how pure hearted they are. “What do you want me to do?” (Y/n) asks, Wednesday steps back, letting him have his own personal space finally.

“Nothing. Yet. But I will call upon you, one day… it’s in your best interest to not forget our arrangement.” She gives one last threat before leaving like a shadow, (Y/n) let’s put a sigh, hoping that this will be quickly put to an end. Little did he know it was very, far from over.

“Why am I doing this?” (Y/n) walks though the cemetery with Wednesday, who’s ignoring his crying and whining.

“Because you swore an oath of Fealty.”

“No, no I didn’t.” He replies, “I’m being blackmailed.

“Same thing.” She retorts. They stop at a large tomb, “this, open it.” She said. (Y/n) looks at her.

“That’s it?”

“I can come up with more for you to do..” Wednesday ponders

“No no this is fine, I just expected, more.”

“More? It’s an ancient Crackstone tomb sealed for hundreds of years. I had to recruit someone who decipher the password to open it.” She says, (Y/n) simply turns his head to the door and concentrates, she watches red gleam from his eyes. She was stunned by the beam of intense heat that cut though the stone wall, he creates a shape hole and it begins to collapse. She steps back to avoid being crushed, (Y/n) so calmly lifted his hand, it hits his palm and didn’t move an inch, Wednesday watches in shock as he casually tosses the door to the side.

“So, we keep going?” He asks Her, Wednesday didn’t know what to say.

“Y-yes, let’s.” She said and walked into the Tomb, the cold decrepit place smelled of death. A lingering smirk crept along her face. (Y/n) felt the stench of death and he follows the girl around. Staring at the spot on the back of her head.

“So, what are you here for?” He asks her; who begins to look around the tomb.

“Do you remember Rowan?”

“The guy you said was murdered and who randomly appeared fine the next day?” He replies sarcastically. Wednesday morning chores his quip and searches the interior for any inscribing.

“Point is, It’s my belief that Rowan was killed, and the one you saw was a fake, someone meant to keep up appearances. It would be tragic to hear that a student was murdered here. Bad press and all that.” Wednesday explains, (Y/n) rubs his chin.

“Well when I used my X-ray vision, everything seemed fine with him.”

“X-ray Vision?” Wednesday Asks.

“Yeah, let’s me see though walls, rocks, inside the human body, no lead though.” He adds in.

“So it allows you to see though clothes as well.”

“Uh, Yeah?” He replies, and quickly makes the assessment of what Wednesday was thinking. “I didn’t use it on you. I promise.” He said, Wednesday stares daggers into his eyes and sees he’s genuine about it, and drops the conversation.

“Point is, I had a, vision.. Crackstone putting innocent lives to the stake. Nevermore lives, like you and I.” Wednesday looks over to multiple inscriptions over the tomb.

“So my theory lead to the serial killer and the knee covering up the murders. They aren’t working together, but they’re covering up third killings to avoid more scrutiny from the public.” She explains, reading a tombstone.

“So, they’re letting this killer get away because they don’t want the public to freak out?”

“So to speak, from what the Principal tried to infer to me, it’s all ridiculous And self serving for Jericho.”

“… You’re right.” He said, Wednesday wasn’t used to hearing someone actually agree with her.

“It’s wrong, covering up the truth to make life easier, just makes the people who know it hate it even more.” (Y/n) walks over to Wednesday, their height difference was profound as she had to almost look up to him.

“If you’re searching for the truth. I want to help, I’m not as smart as you I’ll admit but I’ll do my best.” He says, Wednesday, even if she didn’t act like it, appreciated the gesture. The two exit the tomb and Wednesday dusts herself off.

“As much as I enjoy the decrepit and cold ambiance, I hate getting my clothes with cobwebs.

“I could blow it off for you.”

“If your breath could freeze me to death like you said, I’d rather not.” She says, (Y/n) checks his watch.

“It’s nearing 3, we’ll be late for class.” (Y/n)

“And Weems would have my head for being late.” Wednesday said, grumbling. (Y/n) offers his hand, Wednesday looks at it and then back up to him.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I despise human contact, especially yours.”

“Wednesday, if we want to find this Killer we have to stay in Weems Good graces, so put your big girl Stockings on and take my hand!” He said with much more serious flare. Wednesday reluctantly sighs.

“Fine, just do what’s necessary—“ Before she could properly warn him, he swept her off her feet like the Prince Charming he is, and leaped, flying into the air. The sudden shift in air and temperature caught Wednesday off guard, she looked down, seeing the cemetery and the entire Nevermore grounds before her.

Height was always something she never truly appreciated until now, being able to see, everything, changed that. (Y/n) held her close as he searched for the Mathematics and Murder class. Finding the door he slowly descends down. Wednesday’s eyes went to his face as he kept them on the ground, he descended from the sky as if he was a god among men, landing calmly on the Quad he lets her go, still having his arm around her waist to keep her balance.

“Feeling okay?” He asks.

“Get your hand from around me before you lose it.” She demands, (Y/n) quickly moved, “Sorry.” He said, Wednesday said nothing and simply walked to class, she didn’t look back at him, either out of anger or embarrassment. (Y/n) shook his head and went to his. It seems this agreement could be much more than Wednesday herself could have asked for.

[teetle-time]

…so the writing demons grabbed me by the throat this morning and wouldn't let me go until i wrote this. anyway @hasello the cousins au is living in my brain rent-free so i hope u don't mind that i took a crack at something first-meetings-y with rise and 03 and wound up with 2.5k words of the babies :D

〜

The rat who once was Lou sprinted down the rain-slick alleyway with one arm clutching his boys to his chest and the other digging through his pockets.

"I saw it run this way!"

He bit back a curse; his pursuers were still hot on his trail.

And his tail.

Heh.

What a time to be alive.

The mystic key bumped against his fingers, and he quickly snatched it out of his pocket and darted to the nearest wall. He needed to be quick and precise.

…well, he at least managed speed. He spent too many precious seconds glancing back to watch the beams of light bounce ever higher just a turn away, so he really had no idea if his sigil was anywhere near accurate.

As if in answer to prayer, it lit up, opening a circular portal for him, and he leapt through without a second thought, pocketing the key as he fell.

His luck held out long enough for him to hear it close behind him without any of the humans chasing him shouting in surprise.

It did not hold out long enough to actually drop him into the Hidden City.

Instead, when the portal ended, he stumbled out into a long tunnel, directly in front of another rat with four humanoid turtles around them.

No-Longer-Lou froze like a deer in headlights, staring at the strangers and heaving for air.

The strangers all mirrored him, freezing in place and scanning him in all their various capacities.

The other rat spoke first: "My, isn't this unexpected?"

A snort forced its way from No-Longer-Lou against his will at that, though he quickly brought a hand (no, he had paws now) to his mouth to stifle it. "I- I'm so sorry, I just- I didn't mean to- This isn't where-!"

"Peace," said the other rat, carefully maneuvering the turtle in front of him a bit to the side and standing up. "Whatever circumstances brought you here, it is clear that you have been moved by the strings of fate, rather than by choices of your own design. You mean no harm to us, yes?"

"I-I- yes."

"And we mean no harm to you," soothed the other.

No-Longer-Lou breathed heavily for a moment more, but then his attention was quickly arrested by motion in his arms.

Raphael- the quickest to grow, but still so, so small- screwed up his face. "Papa?"

"I'm right here, Raphael," No-Longer-Lou murmured, reaching into the sling to give the boy's hand a squeeze.

The other rat's eyes widened at the name. "Now, that is a one-in-a-million chance, indeed."

"Why's he got a baby with my name?" demanded the turtle wearing a red mask over his eyes.

It was No-Longer-Lou's turn to be surprised. "Raphael? But then…"

He took in the colors of the masks on the other three turtle boys' faces.

Purple, blue, and orange.

"Donatello? Leonardo? M-Michelangelo?"

Silence.

At least, until the turtle boy in orange leaned over to his brothers and whispered loudly, "How does he know our names, dudes?!"

No-Longer-Lou's sons roused at their names, and he quickly realized his mistake as Michelangelo began to fuss. "Oh, oh, no, Michelangelo, please, it is alright, please don't-!"

Michelangelo may have been the youngest, but he had a record-shattering set of lungs, for sure.

The moment Michelangelo began to wail, Leonardo jumped in with him, refusing to be left out, and then Raphael was crying and Donatello was shoving his tiny head into No-Longer-Lou's chest with his hands over where his ears would have been and the rat could feel his own ears on the verge of bleeding-!

The other rat's back straightened, and he turned to the older turtle boys. "My sons, I still have some of the supplies I scavenged when you were tots. Raphael, the pacifiers. Leonardo and Donatello, the blankets. Michelangelo, the pillows."

The boys nodded seriously, wincing as the cries reached a peak before darting across the tunnel and digging through various chests and boxes. Meanwhile, the other rat carefully took No-Longer-Lou's arm and led him towards the chair the others had been gathered around in the first place. "Please, have a seat. I would quite like to hear the tale of how you came to this place-"

-an ear-splitting cry from Leonardo-

"-but first, we must calm your children," finished the other rat with a tired smile.

No-Longer-Lou nodded just as tiredly and began to gently bounce his boys. "There, there, your Papa is right here, we are all together, and…and we are safe."

The other rat's expression warmed.

"I got the pacifiers!" called the older boy named Raphael, charging back over and brandishing the four objects in one hand.

"Excellent work, Raphael," praised the other rat as he took the pacifiers.

The boy beamed.

"These should do for now," the other rat said, pressing one into No-Longer-Lou's paw. "These were enchanted by an old friend of mine to allow them to keep up with beaked babies."

No-Longer-Lou managed a weak smile at that, then carefully reached in to nudge the pacifier against Michelangelo's mouth. "Here we are, little Orange. Wouldn't it be nicer to suck on this instead of crying?"

Michelangelo hiccuped, but after a moment of what seemed like confusion, his mouth closed around the pacifier and he looked up at No-Longer-Lou with wide, wet eyes.

"One down, two to go," chuckled the other rat, handing off another pacifier. This one went to Leonardo, who contented himself quickly once he had something to do with himself. He seemed to be gnawing on the pacifier, rather than sucking on it, but No-Longer-Lou chalked it up to curiosity at the foreign object.

Surprisingly- or perhaps not- Donatello was the next one to need something to work with. Raphael began calming down after a few moments of being the only one still crying, but when Donatello caught sight of Leonardo messing with the pacifier, he turned an utterly betrayed stare up at No-Longer-Lou until he gave the boy one to fiddle with.

With the remaining pacifier in hand, No-Longer-Lou smiled wearily at Raphael. "You may be a bit big to use this, Red. Do you still want to try?"

Raphael nodded firmly. "Raphie's the big brother. Gotta be the bestest essample."

No-Longer-Lou handed the pacifier over, and…yep, it was completely dwarfed by his son. Still, his boy held it in his mouth and smiled over at Michelangelo when the two met eyes.

Michelangelo blinked, then smiled back.

"Blanket delivery!" called the bigger Donatello, carrying a pile of blankets nearly as tall as he was.

Next to him, his brother Leonardo fussed. "Donnie, I told you I could have held some!"

"Easy, Leonardo," chuckled the other rat, easily lifting the blankets from Donatello's hands. "How about you make sure our visitors are tucked in and comfortable?"

"Okay, Father," chirped Leonardo, immediately doing exactly that- and perhaps peeking into No-Longer-Lou's arms a few times to peer at his boys.

Little Raphael watched the bigger boy curiously, then said around the pacifier, "Raphie thought we were th'only turtle people."

The bigger Leonardo paused for a moment, then looked at him. "So'd we."

Leonardo- the baby- met the other Leonardo's eyes, then spat out his pacifier- and yes, it was much more chewed-on than before. "Hi! Hi, hi, hi! I'm Leo!"

The other Leonardo blinked, then grinned. "Me too. It's a good name, right?"

Little Leonardo nodded, shaking his entire body from the effort. "Daddy pickeded it!"

No-Longer-Lou chuckled. "Feeling better now, are we?"

Little Leonardo nodded again, just as energetically. "Mikey no sad no more!"

"Did somebody say Mikey?!" crowed the older boy of the same name, wildly waving pillows over his head as he ran over.

"Midey! Midey! Midey!" cheered the baby around his pacifier, flailing his arms.

"That's right, little dude!" Older Michelangelo grinned and peered over at him as soon as he skidded to a stop in front of No-Longer-Lou. "We're the mightiest!"

"MIDEYST!" shrieked the baby in glee.

Little Donatello winced and paused his inspection of his pacifier to glare witheringly at his youngest brother.

"Careful, Michelangelo," chastised No-Longer-Lou. "Your brother has sensitive hearing, remember?"

Baby Michelangelo blinked, then frowned very seriously and wiggled until he was able to grab Little Donatello's arm in a hug- or rather, a- "Dondon hubbub."

Little Donatello's glare softened, and he went back to fiddling with the pacifier with his free hand. It seemed the hinge on the back occupied more of his attention than the squishy part meant to be sucked on.

The older Michelangelo pressed the pillows in his hands to his face. "D'awww, they're so cute!"

No-Longer-Lou smiled warmly. "They are, aren't they?"

"It seems like we've established that we have similar taste in names," chuckled the other rat. "Though, just to be sure, might I ask yours?"

No-Longer-Lou's smile turned bitter. "It doesn't matter. I'm only a splinter of the man I used to be, anyway."

The other rat's eyebrows rose. "What curious phrasing. I never was a man, but the name I was given before my mutation by the family I was brought into was…well, Splinter."

No-Longer-Lou straightened in the chair at that. "Curious indeed…"

After a moment of thought, on a half-formed hunch born of one too many late night sci-fi movie marathons, he continued, "You know, before my own mutation, I'd more-or-less befriended a rat in my- well. A rat. I…I'd chosen the name Lou Jitsu years ago, but…the name I was given was Yoshi."

A shaky breath from Splinter. "…Hamato Yoshi?"

No-Longer-Lou steadfastly kept his focus on his boys. "I haven't deserved that name in a long time."

He kept the part about not wanting to be associated with his family's 'traditions' firmly unsaid.

"You okay, Papa?" asked Raphael, reaching up to pat at his face.

"I will be," No-Longer-Lou said, pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead.

Splinter gently laid a hand on No-Longer-Lou's shoulder. "I swear to you, you and your children will be safe here for as long as you need. I don't know how you came to be here, but I will help you return home if you so wish."

No-Longer-Lou nodded, thickness rising up in his throat and clogging it.

"Mr. Lou, can I see Baby Mikey?" asked the older Michelangelo, setting the pillows down.

Both rats' eyebrows rose, and Splinter asked, "Mr. Lou?"

"Well, if he doesn't use that Yoshi name, and we can't call him Splinter because you're Splinter, then he's Mr. Lou!" Older Michelangelo crossed his arms and nodded decisively, his point made.

Splinter and…and Lou met each other's eyes with equally bemused expressions, then Lou looked down at his boys. "I don't know. Orange, would you like to see Big Michelangelo?"

"Bihmidey!" Michelangelo said seriously, patting at Donatello's arm before wriggling upright and peeking out at the older boy. "Bihmidey hi?"

"Heh, yep," said Older Michelangelo, beaming widely. "Hi, li'l Mikey!"

The baby chirped excitedly, bouncing in place until Older Michelangelo reached over to pick him up. Lou watched carefully, but it seemed the older boy had at least some idea of how to hold a young child, as he easily hefted Little Michelangelo against his side.

"I wanna see the babies!" exclaimed Older Leonardo.

"Me too!"

"Yeah!"

Little Leonardo giggled and clambered out of Lou's arms too quickly for him to react. "Hey, hey, hi! I'm big boy!"

Older Raphael darted forward to keep Little Leo from tumbling to the ground. "You sure are, yeesh! Don't hurt yourself!"

Little Raphael whined. "Leo, don't fall down like that! You'll get a owie!"

"S'okay, Raphie!" Little Leonardo grinned up at his brother, then at Older Raphael. "There's two Raphies! That's even more Raphie! Gonna be saferest!"

Little Raphael whined again, but after a brief moment where Older Raphael's eyes grew suspiciously moist, the older boy blinked quickly before grinning at his younger double. "You heard 'im. I'll keep your bro outta trouble, swear."

Little Raphael scowled. "You better."

"Did you want to come out and keep an eye on them?" asked Older Leonardo knowingly.

That got a nod out of Little Raphael, and the older boy helped him climb down to the ground.

With only Donatello left in his arms, Lou couldn't find it in himself to be surprised when the older Donatello peered at the younger boy. "What about you, Tinytello? You wanna come hang out?"

Little Donatello hissed in displeasure and flipped the hinged handle on the pacifier up and down more quickly.

"I'm guessing that's a 'no,' then," said Lou. "It's nothing against you, I promise. Today has simply been…a lot."

"Oh, I can get that," agreed Older Donatello immediately. "Like, I dunno what you were doing before you came here, but it didn't look very fun. And now a bunch of big brother wannabes are getting all up in his space and playing with his bros without him? I'd be on-edge, too."

Little Donatello's handle-flipping stilled, and he shifted to look at Older Donatello's chest. (Wasn't there a turtle-specific word for that part of their shells…?)

"I'm close, huh?" asked Older Donatello. "Figured it'd be something like that. That's okay, Tinytello! Sounds like you've been having a rough time of it. Do you want me to go do something else, or should I stay put?"

Little Donatello's forehead furrowed for a moment, then he gravely held the pacifier out to the older boy.

Lou's brows shot up. "Huh. I know Purple is unique in many ways, but he usually isn't so quick to decide a stranger is worthy of a gift…even if that gift belonged to the stranger, first."

Little Donatello frowned when Older Donatello didn't immediately take the pacifier, then gave the handle a demonstrative flip before shaking the pacifier a little.

Older Donatello's eyes widened, and he carefully took the pacifier and gave the handle a tentative flip.

Little Donatello chirruped, shifting in place to get comfy in the crook of Lou's elbow in such a way as to keep watching the older boy.

Splinter chuckled as the two Donatellos went back and forth, flipping and chirping. "I do believe your son has found a new friend in mine."

Lou huffed a weak laugh of his own. "I suppose he has."

He took the opportunity to scan the tunnel- or rather, now that he had a moment to think, the room within the tunnel.

Little Raphael and Older Leonardo stood aside as Little Leonardo cartwheeled in circles, ooh-ing and aah-ing whenever the younger boy glanced their way. Older Raphael kept a hawklike eye on the toddler, constantly circling around him to place himself between Leonardo and the nearest obstacles. Older Michelangelo hopped around the room, bouncing the baby with each hop and getting the both of them to giggle madly.

Little Donatello yawned contentedly and smushed the side of his face against Lou's arm, still watching Older Donatello bemusedly flip the handle of the pacifier.

Lou felt the adrenaline that had kept him moving for the past hour finally begin to drain, and it quickly became a struggle to keep his eyes open.

Splinter's hand came down on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Rest, Lou. You and your sons are safe here. The rest can wait for now."

Lou nodded tiredly, and his eyes fluttered shut before he could have any further say in the matter.

[cosmicanemoia]

Homecoming

Amelia Shepherd x Reader

(ex-lovers turn to friends)

Amelia Shepherd x Kai Bartley

(lovers breaking up)

Love Me Till You Leave Me part 17

Note: I want to try something other than the red string of fate for bringing them back together, hence the science (earthquake) references.

Amelia and Kai knew that there's a cracking in their relationship. They didn't know how or when it happened. This said cracks are beginning to grow at a fast rate, and they both know the reason.

Amelia jumps too fast into another relationship, not letting herself fully move on.

Kai went back to her because they didn't like the job they left her for.

A metaphorical crack became a fault, and it started to part rather faster. One of them on the opposite sides, wherever this quake might lead, it's for sure not going to end for them to be together.

Their diversion will somehow lead to her's and your's diversion.

Someone had offered Kai a job, far from where they currently recide. They were going to talk with Amelia about it, but it turned into a fight, and eventually, their break up.

Amelia found a letter on the coffee table when she went home. She read who it was addressed and saw Kai's name. Seeing that it was already opened, she decided to read it. It was the letter offering Kai a job, somewhere far. Her mind suddenly starts to fog, and she starts to play scenarios in her mind. She starts to doubt Kai.

When Kai went home, Amelia greeted them with a question, "What's this?" She said while holding the letter on her hand, waving it to Kai. "You're going to leave and take this job again. I'm such an idiot!" She accused them. "What are you talking about? I was going to discuss it with you--" Kai defended, but Amelia quickly cuts them off, "Oh. So, you're actually considering it. " "What?!" Kai asked, their starting to get annoyed.

A: GO! Leave, like everybody else has-- the only one who never left me is Y/N, and I was dumb enough to leave her, just ao I can be with you.

K: Oh. Y/N, the great and perfect y/n, of course. Are you even going to admit that you're still in love with her? All this time?

A: Do not put this on me.

K: For fucks sake, Amelia stop bullshiting me.

Amelia and Kai's eyes start to water. Their word stinging each other.

A: I'm going home.

K: But you are home

A: I'm going home

K: What are you talking abo-- *walks up to Amelia and scans her face* Did you use again? Are you high?

A: *felt like a truck hit her out of nowhere* OH MY GOD. --I can't believe you'd think that, and even have the nerve to say it out loud. I AM NOT HIGH. I'm actually more sober than I'd ever been.

They were quiet for a moment, tears running down their faces.

K: I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I just--

A: Can you stop explaining yourself for once and just own your mistake?

K: I'm sorry, I really am.

They look into each other eyes.

A: This was never going to last, is it?

K: I guess not.

Amelia hugged Kai as if it's going to be the last. "We need to break up before we kill each other," Amelia said, which made Kai sigh and chuckle. "I'm going home." Amelia said once more.

Amelia held Kai's hand and looked into their eyes and said:

"You're like a drug

I'm always gonna want you

Cause I'm an addict

Even though you're not good for me

You had this hold on me

That keeps me wanting more

Even if it hurts

But I want to sober up

I want to be free of you

So, I'm going to get help

And I'm going home."

She let's go of Kai's hand and left the house they lived in together.

Then she went to you. Her home.

-----

Someone was knocking at your door, very late at night. When you got to the door, you slightly opened it to see who was on the other side. It was Amelia. You can tell she's been crying because her eyes are red and puff, you fully open the door, "Hey, Ames. What's up? Are you okay? Please, come in. " A voice inside the house called your name and asked if it was the pizza. Amelia scoffs, "You're with someone-- Sorry, I shouldn't have come here." Amelia ran off, and you're left confused.

Amelia kept walking. She wasn't even looking left and right when she crossed the street. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't even realise someone was following her. She didn't see that the light was green, so she just kept walking. She didn't notice the car coming at her until it's too late for her to make a move, she's paralysed. Just when she's about to get hit by the car, someone had pulled her up and saved her life.

It was you. She was drowning, and you pulled her out of the abyss.

You check if she's okay. "Ames, are you okay?"

"Y/N" was all Amelia could say.

"What were you thinking?" You stated and concern evident in your tone and in your eyes 'that you don't love me anymore,' she thinks to herself. "Are you alright?" You inquired again. "I am now. You just saved my life... in more ways than one, " she assured you.

You asked her to come home and spend the night in your house.

When you got there, she looked around and did a quick scan of the house. The voice she had heard earlier was not present anymore. It was your sister and you asked her to leave. She didn't question who it was, though, and left it on her mind to ask in the morning.

You let her sleep in your bed, as you can see that she needs it more than you.

In the morning, she wakes up first and cooks for you, just like old times, but not exactly like old times.

You wake up to the smell of breakfast and to the sound someone was making in the kitchen. You stood up and walked to see who it was. It was Amelia. Her hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing your clothes that you'd lend her last night, you smile and ache at the same time by the domesticity of it all.

[rocknrollsalad]

👨🏻‍❤️‍🧑🏻 - soulmates

Thank you for sending this in!! and for picking the only one I know anything about lol

Okay, so this prompt haunts me in my sleep because it's one of those Big Concepts that my long-winded ass would need 100k for, ya know? I mean, I want that for everything I write, if we're being serious, but especially something like soulmates.

i did mutual pining in a thousand words though so I can do this

The idea i have in my plotting notebook is from a tweet I saw somewhere:

if there is no red thread binding us together I'll grab a string and do it myself, loop it twice around our wrists, tie it with a knot, and a kiss for good measure. fate has no business telling me who to love. I've been yours since we met

the last two lines really scream eddie to me, especially. but the mental road block comes in because I get make the rest feel like eddie to me. it's a steve move to learn about the red string of fate (probably from robin as she poetically pins for vickie or something) and thinking that's what is between him and eddie.

so steve has the sort of explanation..................BUT what if I combine them???? oh this ask is doing it's job!! yeah, then, right? robin teaches steve about this concept and he's the more obvious romantic. he's the flowers and fancy dinners. eddie is the crow type where he brings cool things and stuff. steve "whines" to eddie that they can't see their red string but he knows its there and blah blah blah. and eddie does what he does best. he fashions them matching red bracelets. nothing lavish, definitely closer to string than say a cuff. but it has to tie to the lore, right? because if they can't see the red string of fate, eddie will do it himself! there's no denying that fate brought them together but if steve needs to see that, eddie doesn't mind helping him out. plus, it's not like they can wear wedding rings. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh

please help me work out what to write for my steddie bingo card, the due date is approaching too quickly lol ( post with prompts )

don't hesitaite to send follow ups or questions about anything here. i need so many pushes here

[the-bar-sinister]

Deicide: Red Shift (36743 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 9/?

Summary: A mysterious signal is drawing ships across the Grand Line to a place called Elegia for the first ever concert by the rising star singer, Uta. Following the signal are Cross Guild and fallen emperor Shanks, the Charlotte family, the Donquixote Pirates and the shattered remnants of Law's crew, and Kid's crew, and Cavendish and Bartolomeo.

And the Straw Hats and their captain Luffy, who hasn't seen Uta since they were both little children at their idol Shanks' knee.

Perhaps this meeting was ordained by fate. Perhaps, in the end, there was only ever one tragic outcome possible.

But Luffy has other plans.

catch up here

-

Uta was on top of the world. The buzz of the crowd's cheer filled her and radiated through her very being as she swept Luffy off the stage and towards the narrow corridors past the mechanical props and curtains.

The praise of the fans uplifted her—but what made her heart soar even more was the warm hand in hers, the familiar dopey smile that she hadn't seen in so long, the presence of LUFFY. Her rival, her best friend, her whole childhood before—

Her mind shut out the details for now, her smile twitching a little wider as she glanced back at him while coming to a stop beside a door marked with a large star and her name. Easing it open, she gestured for him to go inside. "We can mingle in the crowd if you wanna later, but…geeze, Luffy! I wanna catch up!" 

"Yeah, I can introduce you to everybody in a bit!" He was grinning widely too, clearly as thrilled as she was. He was still so recognizable from when she was a kid– she would have recognized him anywhere.

Although there was the matter of the hat he was wearing.

Her eyes kept drifting to it, sending a writhing feeling twisting through her heart before she averted her eyes to look into his.

"Everybody huh?" she eased into her dressing room with him and gestured for him to have a seat.

Her dressing room was comfortable, plush chairs padded in heart-red upholstery, great big mirrors lined with makeup—she realized too late that she'd moved her collection of wanted posters there, catching them over Luffy's shoulder—the faces of 'Charlotte Linlin', 'Sanji Vinsmoke', 'Doflamingo Donquixote' and 'Bepo' staring back at her as she looked instead at the arrangement of snacks that Gordon and the people of the island had probably left to boost her morale for the show.

"You brought friends, yeah?" 

"Yeah, my whole crew!" He beamed widely and looked around with the same wide, dark eyes she'd known as a child. He hopped up to sit on her vanity table, kicking his feet excitedly. "Is all this your stuff?"

Uta walked over to him and quickly shuffled the letter from one of her greatest fans—probably one of the last ones—into its drawer. With a smile, she bumped his shoulder. "Uh huh—I mean, this is a temporary dressing room so it's kind of sparsely furnished, but it's all mine."

She picked up her transponder snail and took a snapshot of him on her table. She hoped he didn't notice the posters, at least. "You've got a crew huh? What are you, an adventurer or something? Bounty Hunter?"

Luffy's grin hitched even wider, into the kind of too-giant smile he'd often pulled when he thought he was going to get the better of her.

"Nope! Guess what? You already know somebody on my crew!" He wiggled his feet, heels bouncing off the leg of her vanity.

Uta's head tilted to the side, her hair bouncing over her shoulder as her eyes once more wandered to the hat hanging from its string around his neck. She forced her eyes away again as the obvious answer hammered in her hindbrain, shut out as best it could by her desperate excitement at seeing him.

He became a pirate, a pirate. He wasn't a marine, wasn't an adventurer. He—he could have been a merchant, or who knows what else.

She pursed her lips/ "I already know someone? I dunno about that, Luffy. I haven't exactly gotten to know a lot of people out here, and nobody from the island's left in years and years. I—"

Her eyes suddenly widened as she snapped her attention to the wanted posters, specifically the one for 'Sanji Vinsmoke', the one that claimed he was part of the Straw Hat crew.

Straw Hat—like the one around Luffy's neck. "Oh…" 

In full answer, and as her sinking heart suspected, he pointed at the poster. 

"You know my cook, Sanji!! Do you collect pirate posters? How come you don't have mine?" He cocked his head owlishly. "Is it because Sanji's handsome? That's an awful picture of him, too."

Uta felt the cold, gnawing sensation of discomfort below at her ribcage, her lips tightening somewhat as she glanced between Luffy and the poster of Sanji. 

"I don't exactly collect them. They just washed up on the shore a while back and I thought they were interesting."

She'd kind of obsessed over them for weeks, until Gordon coaxed her attention back to the concert at hand. He'd reminded her of what really mattered. She tried to still her racing heart as she grit her teeth and continued.

"I didn't know you were a pirate, Luffy. I've never seen your poster. I never heard anything about you—I'd thought…I mean—you're really a fucking pirate?" she couldn't keep the edge of anger from her voice. 

Luffy blinked at her, his dark gaze both piercing and showing something like confusion. "Well, yeah, of course I'm a pirate! The question is why aren't YOU a pirate! We always used to talk about who was gonna be the better captain!"

Uta jolted, and her jaw tightened as she put her hand to her chest. "That was when we were KIDS, Luffy! Stupid kids who didn't know anything about what pirates are really like!"

The burning cities, that little girl's family slaughtered on the beach, the suffering delivered in the papers every day to her doorstep. Shanks sailing off into the distance with the confirmation that he thought she was too weak, too worthless to waste his time with anymore—

"We grew up, " her eyes widened behind the fringe of her hair. "Pirates are monsters, Luffy. Pirates pillage, rape, kill—they don't care about anyone but themselves!"

She gripped her fingers over her chest, trying to still the frantic beating of her heart. "I mean, even the better ones are misguided." 

"Some pirates are like that," Luffy said. "But like, so are plenty of people who aren't pirates? That's not what being a pirate is! And it's not true that pirates only care about themselves– they care about their crew, too!"

He hopped off the vanity and stepped up to her, putting his hands on her shoulder. "And anybody they want to care about, because pirates are free!"

"Pirates are free—" Uta stared at him incredulously with a sharp furrow of her brow. "Are you fucking stupid, Luffy? Pirates—Pirates are the opposite of freedom! They're just as dirty as the World Government, bullying people who are weaker than them, just like the worthless bastard who's damned hat you're wearing! Why do you even HAVE that?"

She grabbed his shoulders with a sharp grin, the two of them now holding one another by the shoulders as she leaned in. "He's not the man you thought he was, you know. HE showed me what a pirate really is." 

Luffy's eyes widened, and she watched dawning understanding bloom on his face.

"Oh. It was Shanks that made you lose faith in pirates. I understand." 

His voice, which had up to that point been filled with passion drained of it, sounding dull and monotone. He reached up and took the hat off his head, putting it on top of her vanity. "You're right about him, at least."

Uta felt a sting of hope at that. Sad and twisted as it was, the fact that Luffy seemed to understand was a light in the darkness. He knew about the way Shanks really was, how uncaring and selfish he was under his smile and his promises that he cared.

"I am—he left me here, Luffy. After telling Gordon that I wasn't strong enough to be part of his crew, that he didn't need me." She whispered low under her breath. "He threw me away. Just like any other pirate. The news is full of stories like that, Gordon's told me stories too—I've read letters. The world would be better off without pirates."

She smiled at him, trying to drown out the anger with that flicker of hope. "So give up being a pirate, Luffy! You should join me—we can be whatever we want in the world!" 

Luffy didn't answer. Instead, he immediately scooped her into a tight hug, leaning his cheek against her forehead. His lean body was warm and his arms were strong. He smelled like the sea, and like tobacco, and some kind of oil. He still didn't answer— for a moment he just held her. He held her tight.

Uta froze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat before she leaned into his embrace with a hiccup of breath, taking deep breaths of the scent that lingered on him. It was at once nostalgic—memories of what she'd once thought were happy times on the high seas—and heartbreaking. She leaned against him, eyes closed tight against the waves of emotion inside her. 

"He hurt me too. I– I'm not surprised, Uta. He never told me why you left. Just that you wanted to be a singer. I think I always knew it wasn't true."

"He's a liar." Her voice shook, pathetically—weakly! In a way that she'd have kicked herself for showing when they were children, but right now she couldn't bring herself to care. "I told him that I was going to leave in the morning and he left while I was asleep, Luffy. He didn't even turn to look when I cried out to his ship on the horizon. He hurt you too? And you still believe in being a pirate?"

She squeezed him tightly, burrowing her face against his shoulder. 

He held her, and petted her hair softly, holding her against his chest. She'd already seen the huge scar there, like an X of puckered, shiny flesh. 

"Shanks isn't the only man who inspired me to be a pirate," he explained in that quiet, dull voice. "I'm a pirate for my own sake, not only for his. When we were kids, I would have done anything to get on his ship, but just to sail away. I probably would have felt the same way about any pirate who came to the island who wasn't an obvious monster."

Uta reached her fingers up to trace the shape of the scar on his chest, her eyes hot and watering against his shoulder. 

"He was good at pretending he wasn't a monster," she murmured against him. "All I've heard are horror stories of him on the sea… Who else inspired you, Luffy? What else could have made you wanna be one of them?" 

His fingers trailed softly through the locks of her hair, hanging by her cheeks. She felt the pads of his fingers brush her jaw for a moment– rough and calloused. 

"My brothers, Ace, and Sabo. I wish you could have met Ace. Did you hear about— did the news?" His voice broke momentarily, and she saw the darkness in his deep eyes glisten.

"Brothers—?" Uta's heart seized for another moment. More people in Luffy's past, just like her, that he'd taken to caring for as something closer than just friends? Was the feeling in her chest jealousy? Or regret? Or—

She hissed softly through her teeth and shook her head. "I don't get a lot of news here, Luffy. Gordon gives me what he can find, bu-but it's not a lot.." 

He took a shuddering breath, and his arm wrapped around her again– some devil fruit power that he must have gotten after she left.

Luffy shook his head. "I thought so. They killed him, Uta. The Marines murdered him. I almost saved him but I couldn't—" he stopped and swallowed, and took another deep breath. "After you left, gramps sent me away from the village, into the woods to be raised by bandits. Ace was there too, and we ran away."

The marines. A force as evil as any pirate. Luffy's grandfather was a marine, she had known that from Shanks—a powerful and awful man who treated Luffy with a heavy hand. A memory, a moonlit night as Uta watched the stars sitting side by side with Luffy on the shore after another one of their silly contests, came back to her all of a sudden. He'd talked about Garp—and talked about his dreams of becoming a pirate. Something she teased and needled him over in the spirit of their rivalry.

It was no surprise that Garp threw him away into the woods where he met a kindred spirit, and it was no surprise the marines killed him either.

"Ran away—" She laughed weakly. "You always got up to something whenever I wasn't around, huh? Hahah…" 

That feeling clawed at her ribcage again, and she grit her teeth into a smile. "He–he inspired you to become a pirate, then? When you ran away?"

"We were all gonna be pirates," he said quietly. "Me, and Ace, and Sabo. Sabo's a noble who ran away with us. We should have left together but we argued about who was going to be captain…"

Uta's short, sharp laugh came out more like a huff as she squeezed him. "Just like you and me used to, huh?" 

"Yeah." His voice rasped, and he lifted his chin from where he'd been resting it against her shoulder. He looked her in the eyes. "I don't want to argue any more, and I don't want to leave people behind anymore. I want you to come be our musician, Uta."

Uta jerked in his arms to look down at him through her swimming vision, her brow knitting together. "You—you want me to be your musician, your pirate musician?"

She could feel the world narrowing around her, inside her, a small ping of some old and buried excitement welled up—the promise of sea salt scented adventure and her dream to be a great pirate, as great a pirate as she was a singer—but it warred against something bright and loud, whispering with her own smile that she hated pirates. They only made the world worse, and the only way to fix it was the kindle a new era.

"But, my new era—" 

"I don't know anything about your 'new era', Uta. I'm not really interested in eras, or new things, you know?" His eyes were dark like the bottom of the sea and completely fixated on her. "But I know it was your dream to become a pirate. A dream Shanks destroyed for you I guess. I want to make your dream come true."

Her dream. 

Once upon a time her dream was to become a great pirate, more than she already had been. But she'd started to get a new dream, right? A dream that the people of Elegia supported; prayed for nightly. A new era, free of the pain of pirates and of the world government. A new world where nobody had to suffer anymore.

But Luffy's eyes were as dark and deep as they ever were, weren't they? They drew her in and dragged her back into the parts of the past that Shanks hadn't yet ruined. The past that inspired her music—her lyrics packed with the desperate nostalgia to see him again.

I recall that day we played together by the sea. Just you and me. Still that scent of ocean seems to fade each passing day—It slips away. So I sing an old familiar song, I hope you know the one.

I will sing to call you back to me

He was here now, wasn't he? He'd come back, and now he was asking her to join his crew—to be a pirate.

"Luffy—"

"Come with me, Uta. On our great pirate adventure."

Uta's breath hitched again, that whispering face inside her stopped smiling and she felt herself tremble as she reached up to run her hand through the pale half of her hair with a laugh. 

"Hahah! Hahh…oh god–I mean, wow…. Our great pirate adventure?"

Tell him no, tell him no, tell him no, tell him no. There's nothing but pain in piracy, tell him no. The new era is the only way to make sure nobody's hurt by them or the World Government ever again—"Don't you think it's a little late for me?" she asked, "I mean, it's been years and years since it was supposed to start, Luffy." 

He grabbed her hands suddenly, squeezing them in his own. She was struck again by their warmth, and their rough calluses. 

"It's only too late if you decide it's too late, Uta.It's never too late to chase a dream, and believe in yourself."

The voice had fallen quiet in her heart, and Uta couldn't help but feel the hint of a smile tug at the corners of her lips. 

"I—" 

She hadn't believed so much of herself for a long time, not in anything except her voice and her music.

Uta brushed her fingers over his calloused hands "let me finish the concert first, Luffy" she whispered. "I can't say yes until I know I've at least given my fans that. I'll meet the crew, we'll play our games—I want to challenge you again! Just like old times!"

The excitement had started to leak into her voice again. "I'll win, like always—a bunch more times by the time the concert ends! And then, then maybe I'll be your musician. Deal?" 

"Deal!" he giggled and wrapped his arms around her again.

-

Luffy was smiling and waving as he ran back to them in the crowd while Uta headed back on stage.

Robin had been half expecting Luffy to have dragged her over to their little group with the announcement that the crew finally had the musician he'd obsessed over since before Robin had even joined.

She'd expected a personal encounter with this mysterious rebel songstress, but perhaps Luffy had a further surprise in mind than that quick turnaround. He was smiling at least, unlike with that encounter with Shanks—

It must have gone well with her behind closed doors. Here they'd gotten their campsite set up during the wait with only mild squabbling, mostly between their swordsman and their cook, as they settled in for what was sure to be a long and—if the World Government was furious enough—eventful festival. More so than even that festival held by Bullet in his strength obsessed nihilism.

She'd taken to talking with Franky and the others, hearing their thoughts on the first set of songs as she watched the crowd for anything odd—after all, they'd all just heard that their beloved idol was the sister of Straw Hat Luffy despite her apparent loathing for the profession.

She waved to Luffy as he approached. "Captain." 

"Heeey!!" He dive bombed into her arms, and once she had hold of him, leaned in close to tell her,"Uta's gonna come be our musician! …probably."

Robin bloomed several arms to help support him, holding him close with a half smile. "My, my—that was quick. The way people were talking I thought it might be a hard sell."

Nami poked her head over. "Wait, for fuckin' real??? Uta—Uta's gonna be our fucking musician??"

"It was kinda a hard sell, yeah, but she came around." He nodded to both of them. "Mostly anyway, she still didn't say for sure, but it was basically all set. After the concert."

After the concert—Robin looked up at the perfect sky above , still glittering and sparkling with the strange projected images and lights from the show that lingered even when Uta left. "I'll admit, I'm rather interested to meet her."

Sanji almost tripped on himself, meat skewers in hand, and ran up to Luffy with a broad grin. 

"I can't think of a better choice for ship musician, Luffy! Lady Uta—" he glanced at the stage with that amusingly lovesick expression of his.

Luffy grinned over at him. "Oh I knew you'd be thrilled, Sanji!"

As he turned his head though, Robin noticed his expression change— and he stared not at Sanji but somewhere in the distance behind him.

An eye bloomed on his forehead, looking in the same direction as his own eyes to grant her a little insight as she held him in her arms.

"I can only imagine she's got a nicer voice than mosshead when he's on a bender," Sanji snickered as he went back to cooking. 

"Something wrong with my voice, cook?" Zoro huffed.

Luffy was still staring. And a moment later, Robin saw what he saw.

Just in time for Luffy to disentangle himself from her grip and go running like a cannonball in the direction that he'd been looking.

It was Doflamingo.

"Oh no—" Robin's muted voice didn't quite get across the sting of panic as she took off after Luffy with a furrow of her brow and the alarm of the crew.

Doflamingo—the former tyrant of Dressrosa, the man who Law Trafalger had contracted them to help take down his pedestal—had supposed to be on his way to Impel Down long ago. And yet here he was, much to Luffy's obvious displeasure.

This was going to be a scene.

-

Law was having a panic attack. He was having the panic attack from hell. 

He'd been having a panic attack, until his stalwart first mate Bepo dragged him off to shop his nerves away—so now he was having a panic attack with bag full of fucking concert merchandise dangling from his arm. One of the tone dials had rattled enough to start playing, muffled between a sweater and a paper fan as he stared into the middle distance with despair in his dark eyes.

He took a deep breath "this is going to be a disaster. I mean—shit, not only is Straw Hat HERE but his sister's the fuckin' main attraction? He's going to see us, he's gonna see us and he's gonna ask questions and I am NOT ready, Bepo. I ain't ready at all!"

He wasn't going to be calm any time soon. 

Bepo had his big paw warmly on Law's back as they walked back toward where the family had camped out for the concert. "Come on, Law, he probably will be too busy with Uta to notice anybody else here."

"You say that, Bepo, you say that!" Law threw his hands up "But the thing about Luffy is the last thing you EVER expect with him is the exact thing that'll happen! And if you try to expect the unexpected? Somehow he goes entirely according to plan! Unless he DOESN'T!" 

"There, there, captain I— oh no."

Oh no was right. No, 'oh no' didn't even half cut it.

They came into view of the family just in time to see Straw Hat Luffy barrelling straight toward Doflamingo like a charging bull.

Law grabbed Bepo by his concert t-shirt's shoulders and hauled himself out to shout "SEE???" When he let go and dropped to the ground, he immediately opened his room and teleported Bepo and himself all the way to the family, interposing himself between Luffy and Doffy as fast as he could with a sharp hiss of breath.

It was a good way to get a fist to the face—but also a good way to avert a goddamned war in the middle of the Uta concert. He heard Baby 5 shout, and the clack a forming firearm cocking just behind him. It was not even the only firearm he heard clicking ready.

He didn't have any time to process that though, because Luffy slammed into him at a stupidly high velocity, sending both of them careening across the grass, tearing up the turf into a long streak of dirt.

Law cried out in frustrated pain as he wrapped his arms around Luffy and tumbled end over end across the grass like some kind of stupid fucking comedy act.

He heard Violet laughing into her hand as she stepped out of their way. It was almost reassuring it looked as stupid as it felt. 

As they slowed over the grass they started to roll, and Law saw Luffy wide eyed above him, his fury taking on a baffled air of confusion.

"Traffy???"

"Straw Hat." He was flat on his back in the dredged up dirt, looking deep into Luffy's eyes. "You look well. Was the trip from Wano fun?" 

"No it sucked! Why's Mingo here? We gotta beat him up again!" Luffy, without further comment, hauled both himself, and Law to their feet, practically throwing Law over his shoulder. 

Upright now, or at least something like it, Law could see the Donquixote family looking at the two of them with a mixed air of dubious spectacle and speculative murderous intent. Bepo was watching from behind his claws.

Buffalo had his hand on his guns, his expression fixed in a look of fury, Vergo had coated his bamboo stick in haki with a tired sigh, Violet was still fucking laughing because of course she was, the whole gang was up in arms—-

And he was dangling on Luffy's arm with a weak laugh.

Baby 5 made it worse when she called out, multi-barreled revolving rifle jutting out from a skimpy Uta-branded tank top and aimed squarely at Luffy. 

"Want me to ice this guy, Corazon!???"

Law's blood ran cold as he held his hands up. "No! No, absolutely not!"

"Aww…" Derringer kicked a rock "I wanted to get my shot at Mr. '''Lucy''''."

"NO!" Law shouted again. "Luffy, I…Look, no, we don't gotta fight 'em right now." 

Luffy's two brain-cells were struggling to connect as he stared between the weapons pointed at him– luckily guns so Straw Hat clearly wasn't worried– and then at Law. 

"What? Why not? Who's Corazon?"

Luffy's dark, intense gaze connected with him.

Doffy was watching the whole thing tensely through his crimson shades. Law couldn't see his hands, but he suspected they were tense.

"Whatta ya mean 'who's Corazon'?" Baby 5 snorted as she waved the gun towards him again "HE—"

Law gave her the most pleading look he could before he grabbed Luff's shoulders with a tight smile. "Look, Luffy—I know we've had our issues with the Donquixotes, but we don't gotta make a scene at your sister's big co—"

"He's Corazon!" Baby 5 finished, clearly not getting the hint. "Like, Law. He's our Corazon." 

Luffy looked between Law and Baby 5, and back again. His look of confusion turned into a scowl of more confusion. By this point, some of the Straw Hats were coming closer, and maybe worse— the crowd around them was starting to take notice of what was happening.

Luffy dropped Law unceremoniously to the ground, and then he dropped himself unceremoniously to the ground with him, crossing his arms.

"You're Corazon?"

Weapons were drawn, the agitated crowd of pirate hating civvies were getting riled up, the Straw Hats were getting ready for their specialty (extraordinary violence), and now Luffy's ire was turned on him as he dusted himself off.

"Yeah, Luffy. I've had a real fucking bad few weeks off of Wano. A lot's happened." He gestured towards the Donquixotes, and then to Doflamingo. "And I don't want to deal with the disaster of you two butchering one another on a live broadcast to the entire world." 

"Trafalgar's right, captain," Zoro's grumbling voice came from just behind him. "This is a bad place for a dust up. Conversation or fight, we ought to take this somewhere quieter, if we've got the option."

Luffy didn't look behind him, he just looked thoughtful. "Alright. Do we have the option, Corazon?"

Law couldn't quite read the emotion in Luffy's voice, but it was sure thick with something.

Law grimaced, glancing over his shoulder at Doflamingo and the family. Baby 5 was still chomping at the bit (and her cigarette) to defend him from his own fucking kinda-boyfriend— provided the man didn't decide to break up with him by breaking his face.

"We got the option, alright? Easy. Right?" 

"Alright." Luffy nodded sharply and let his swordsman help him up. "Let's go somewhere quiet."

Both groups of pirates were nearly silent as they left the concert area, both taking their full strength with them— quite the crowd at some 25 or so of them in total. They made their way in silence across one of the large bridges that connected the little island where the stage was to the larger island with the town.

It was quiet here, the sound of Uta's singing distant against the calls of the seabirds. Without discussion, the Straw Hats collected on one side of the bridge, and the Donquixotes on the other.

Law and Luffy met in the middle, accompanied by Doffy and Nico Robin.

Robin looked at him with her piercing eyes, and gave him a small and enigmatic smile before she placed a hand on her Captain's head.

It was a dramatic fucking standoff—but he expected it to be the moment he saw Luffy up there on the stage. He tried to smile at Luffy, his arm looped around his sword. "So uh—I imagine you're upset and confused, Stra—Luffy." 

[mistydeyes]

Cherry lip balm with Graves and fem!reader ♡

thank you for submitting! love this prompt with my problematic fave <3

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration!

prompt: cherry lip balm - what was your first kiss like?

pairing: Phillip Graves x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Despite what most people thought, Phillip had been a complete gentleman for you over the last few dates. "It's the southern hospitality in me," he would say as he held doors open for you or pulled out a chair at restaurants. However, you just wished he would put that aside and give you a goodnight's kiss instead of just walking you to the door. You sighed at the thought and delicately smoothed your red lipstick. Tonight was the fated third date and Phillip had planned something special for tonight. While you insisted he didn't have to, he had planned to pick you up from your townhome and escort you to dinner. You smoothed your black silk dress before you heard the doorbell. You hurriedly walked down the stairs and smiled as you could see Phillip wave to you on the other side of the door.

"You look gorgeous, darling," he whispered as he looked at you in the doorway. You couldn't help but blush slightly and bite your scarlet lip as you felt like you were being put on a pedestal. "I got these for you," he said as you looked back up and pulled out a bouquet behind his back. There were a dozen red roses, delicately wrapped in pink tissue paper. "Oh thank you," you replied but there was some hesitation in your voice as you looked at the other two bouquets that sat in vases on the table. He noticed it quickly and followed you inside as you went to find yet another vase. "Do you not like them? I can take them back?" he said worriedly and you couldn't help but laugh slightly. "It's not that, I just have so many already," you replied and he leaned on the counter as you cut the stems off the ends of the bouquet. "Just some more pretty flowers, for a pretty girl," he remarked and you turned to him. As he leaned on your counter, illuminated by your small kitchen light and looking absolutely handsome in his suit, you just wanted to know what his lips felt like on yours.

However, you were soon pulled out of your fantasy as your distracted gaze resulted in your accidentally pricking your finger. "Shit," you mumbled as you held the wound. Phillip immediately stood up from the counter and held your hand as he inspected the small cut. He had closed the space between you and you wondered if he could feel your heartbeat. You placed a gentle hand on his concerned face and it prompted him to turn to you. "Phillip," you said quietly before leaning in and meeting him with a kiss. His hands moved from yours and held your waist as you deepened the kiss. He tasted like fresh mint toothpaste and his lips were surprisingly soft. As you ran one hand through his hair, you could feel him hold you tightly and hold the silk fabric of your dress to your skin. After a few breathless moments, you pulled away with a smile.

"I'm sorry," you began to apologize for your forward actions but he stopped you. "I've been wanting that since our first date," he replied and you responded with laughter. "So why didn't you?" you countered as you grabbed a bandage for your finger. "A gentleman only kisses on the third date," he said and you continued to laugh. "Well you kept that promise," you remarked, and realizing the time, you quickly put the flowers in water and headed off to his car. On the ride there, you smiled as he told you of his original idea of your first kiss. "There's a gazebo and a string of fairy lights! Once we had dessert, I was going to lean over and kiss you as they played your favorite classical piece," he exclaimed as he sped through the streets. "You took that out from a movie," you replied before you gently wiped off your red lipstick from his lips. "I might have put a little too much thought into it."

[eviltiddyproductions]

Destined With You : Episode 16

I will feel all of the feelings of this being a finale later. HONG JOOOO WHERE ARE YOU ?!!!

my impatient ass sitting through the intro after the first episode 😂😭

why has this loser emptied her purse

lmaoooo she even scared me for a minute

oh god bless for once my sister didn’t get tricked into something (again!)

he’s so nasty and this plot is so absurd 😭

GET AWAY FROM HER !!!!

GOOD JOB HONGJOOOO

YOU BETTER DASHI RUN 🏃‍♀️

ooh she’s rocking the Duan Jiaxu fit from Hidden Love!

where are you running towards Sinyu and if you’re running why is the police not following you 😭 ???

sis you should’ve just ran 😩😩😩

but also saying ‘you’re just insane’ to his face before he kidnaps you again was kind of a serve 💅

Sinyu has gotten zero days of rest since he got out of that hospital

he’s got the red string of fate tied to my sister NOOO GET AWAY FROM HER !!!

his creepy ass turning towards her with the blood red moon behind him

all about that fate and going into the next life and the second the police flashes light on him he cut the string…. nasty loser 😭

Rowoon’s acting’s gagging me rn like suddenly I’m genuinely feeling the shock of seeing someone you love passed out (possibly dead)

someone hold my hand 😭

not this romantic music playing

‘hong jo ah’

police !!! paramedics !!! where are y’all 😭😭😭😭😭😭

oh 💔💔💔

the way he leapt off of the ambulance

oh my heart

the tiny nurse 💀

my poor bean

hongsinyu nation we made it !!

mother is here 😭💕💕💕

who even asked the dad to be here like go work on your failing company idk 😭

I thought he was going to talk about the curse he’s talking about the baby 😭💀

they’re being so adorable rn

the office couple again…

everything that hongjoo does goes public but at least this time it’s for the greater good!!!

talk your shit office girlies! chew Nayeon’s head off 😍😍😍

recorded by the weirdo assaulting ex of Nayeon, isn’t it

exactly bean, you don’t have to thank or forgive him at all!

Nayeon’s getting dumped again lol. right after she suggests marriage too 😭

lmaooo I know he isn’t calling her a bully and a bad look, he was sexually harassing people in the first episode

my babies are on my screen again 🥰

oh he’s still got that bracelet on! <3

my sweetest beans !!!

lmfao Mr. Kwon

oh I was genuinely scared when I saw someone near Hong Jo’s house staring from the mirror, it’s just Nayeon

that shove was satisfying

get your lick back bestie !!!

Mr. Kwon bodied the construction loser 💸

are they going to do the perilla leaves trend thingy

can he just leave the marriage thing alone for 5 seconds

Subway !!!! I know it’s for ease of shooting but these sandwiches in the kdramas are so dry 😭 like it’s technically not the best advertising like babe what are you even eating 😩 just bread ???!

I don’t fully get them but look at Ms Ma getting married in a suit !!! 🩷 oh just saw her whole fit. well a blazer !!!

lmao Mr. I wear shirts at home Sinyu is wearing a simple T-shirt to this wedding 😂😭

I can’t believe it’s ending so quickly, I’m not ready to let go 😩

I knew our princess Sinyu was going to catch the bouquet 😂

they finally get to enjoy cherry blossoms together 😭💕

LMAOOOO the lawyer bestie became an actor?!!! did not see this (adorable and fun) plot twist coming 😂

the old man being investigated instead of being let go by the main leads! progress in the drama world! although I know they’ll defend and help him

and Sinyu’s here!

he’s going to move in isn’t he 💀

lmaoooo she pounced on the car and he pounced on her I LOVE THEM 🦁

aaaaah they’re both so cute 😭😭😭😭😭

‘you sure use your money wisely’ ‘you got me here to work’ 😟

lmaooo go off Hong Jooooo !!! queenie 🤣 (context: she just turned off the light and started rolling with him on the bed)

cannot wait to rewatch this series with lightness and fluffiness in my heart !!!

I did not see this coming 😭😭😭 the peach is Sinyu’s little sister 😭😭😭

to be fair Hong Jo had a gulped a lot of poison, they would’ve let us know back then but wow 💀

back at the beach again 🥰

I love how in love they are and how they’re always ready to vocalise it. Oh I love them downnnn

I knew he was going to ask her dad! 🌊

💍🥰💕

they’re back at the mountain, my lil diligent civil servant and grim reaper!

I know y’all are well versed with the other realm but don’t open random relics let me just 🧿🧿🧿

goodbye my sweet loves 🥹

now what was that little turn of 300 year old Sinyu for 🤨🤨🤨

AAAH it’s over 😭💔💕

can’t wait to rewatch this again! our past and present couple made all the caving plot lines worthwhile. let me go binge from episode 1 again. 💕💕💕

[disco-self-ships]

I'm so curious about Tuco's hacker lapdog plsss tell me about him 🤲

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I'LL REVEAL MY HALF-BAKED BACKSTORY (<- guy who writes smut and poetry, not plot.)

This ended up... so long somehow. I was worried that I wouldn't have much to say, but it just started pouring out of me as soon as I started typing (much of it made up on the spot 👍🏻)

Tw for violence, abuse, dubcon, and drugs (obviously lol.) I can have a dark self ship. As a treat.

I'm tentatively trying out giving my S/I a name that isn't my irl one. For whatever reason I just cannot use a name that doesn't have some connection to my irl one, so it had to start with a T at least, and hopefully this isn't weird but I wanted it to have a similar meaning to Rivera (ignore me feeding our red string of fate into our self ship canon) so I ended up on Trent!

I haven't really landed on a surname for him but I'll probably just go with something common and simple. I like how Trent Adams sounds.

Trent was born in WA in 1980, making him 22 at the beginning of B/CS and 28 at the beginning of B/rBa, although he didn't start working for Tuco until 2003 when he was 23.

Growing up, he was fascinated by media depictions of hacking, and when he was a teenager an older friend-of-a-friend (Doug) took him under his wing and taught him coding/hacking.

As an adult, Trent had trouble keeping a job and as a result borrowed quite a bit of money from Doug over the years. His debt piled up but Doug accepted small payments and Trent working odd jobs for him. Doug moved to NM in 2002 for a mysterious "job opportunity" that he wouldn't tell Trent about.

In early 2003, Doug called Trent and begged him to let him bring him to ABQ and do some work for his boss. As it turned out, Doug had been dealing for Tuco Salamanca while he'd been living in NM and he fucked up bad by getting mugged while carrying a huge amount of cash. He didn't have any way to pay Tuco back quickly enough, so in a fit of desperation he offered up Trent's services, as Trent still owed him a lot of money, so both of their debts could be squared off at once.

Tuco initially had no interest in some random guy who had no experience in the business, but Doug talked up the usefulness of having someone with hacking experience. Now, we know that Tuco can be swayed it you know how to talk to him, so he got into the idea of having his own personal hacker (not that he knew what that really means or entails as he's pretty much computer illiterate, but he likes stuff that sounds cool) and accepted Doug's offer of having Trent come work for him for free.

Doug drove all the way to WA to pick Trent up and gave him the rundown (much to his horror) during the drive back to ABQ about who Tuco is and what kind of business he deals in. He advised Trent to keep his mouth shut as much as possible and stay out of the way when Tuco's temper flared up. Naturally, Trent wanted to back out of the whole thing, but he didn't want his friend (who had helped him so much over the years) to get hurt, or potentially killed, plus the idea of squaring his debt was appealing, so he went along with it.

When Tuco and Trent met for the first time, Tuco literally laughed in his face and made fun of his stature and appearance. He obviously didn't take Trent seriously at all. Trent was offended, but too intimidated to say anything (<- which of course is a good thing as there's a good chance that Tuco would have just killed him.)

Doug put Trent up in a motel (as this whole thing was supposed to be a temporary arrangement), but Trent ended up at Tuco's place pretty much every day, as he needed a computer to work on, which Tuco provided. This had the added benefit (for Tuco at least) of letting him keep on eye on Trent.

Tuco started making passes as Trent pretty quickly, but Trent isn't great at reading social cues (he also assumed that Tuco was straight) so he kept brushing it off (but not actually turning Tuco down as he didn't realize there was an offer in the first place.) This pissed Tuco off as he felt as if he was being teased or possibly made fun of and in true Tuco fashion he flipped out. After shoving Trent into a wall, putting his knife to his throat, and accusing him of fucking with him, Tuco realized that Trent was genuinely unaware of how he'd been coming across. He found it pretty funny, and made his advances much more obvious and aggressive after that.

The beginning of their sexual relationship's consensuality was... questionable at best. Trent of course was terrified of Tuco, was his direct subordinate, and had gotten a sense of "no one says no to a Salamanca." He did find Tuco physically attractive from the first day they met, but he never had any intention of pursuing anything past a professional relationship (and he didn't even really choose that.)

Nacho got a sense of what was going on between Tuco and Trent pretty much immediately and took pity on Trent. He told him that it was for the best, as the more Tuco liked him the safer he'd be from his random violent outbursts, and the more protection he'd have from outside parties (this might seem like a cold way to comfort someone, but this was before they became friends, when Nacho viewed Trent as just another person he had to corral to keep business running smooth.)

Tuco saw Trent's presence and work very much as just a novelty for the first couple of months. Only after Trent crashed the fledgling computer network of a major competitor did Tuco realize that Trent could actually be useful to his business. This made him like Trent on a more serious level and start to want to get to know him for real. This and another incident where Tuco almost killed him (beat and strangled him while high, Tuco felt guilty about it when he sobered up) made him realize that he was actually becoming genuinely fond of him and he ended up going to Nacho for advice on how to make Trent less scared of him.

Somewhere around that time, (do I have an actual timeline worked out to make this story more clear? Hell no!) Tuco moved Trent into his house (under the guise of "keeping an eye on him", when in actuality he was beginning to feel deeply possessive over him, and let's be real, he wanted easy sexual access.)

Their relationship is (and was to an even higher extent during the beginning) closer to owner-and-pet than an equal romantic partnership. Tuco views Trent as more of a thing that he owns than a person who works for him. Tuco was, and is, extremely possessive and jealous over Trent. He's frustrated by his inability to publicly "claim" Trent due to being unable to be openly bi and struggles with letting Trent be alone with other men (Nacho and his cousins are the exception to this.)

Over time their relationship became sort of an open secret as Tuco insists on keeping Trent close even when there's no business-related reason for it, dressing Trent up how he likes (very expensive and gaudy, the complete opposite of how Trent naturally dresses), and becoming enraged any time someone insults or snubs Trent in any way. The people around them started catching on pretty quickly, but generally know better than to bring it up.

Tuco was/is very afraid of Trent betraying him (whether it be cheating on him or something to do with business) and once Lalo entered the picture, he asked him to keep an eye on Trent and report back anything suspicious.

Tuco made it crystal clear from the beginning that he would kill Trent if he tried to run or betray him, so Trent really has no intention of doing so. That doesn't stop Tuco from making him swear that he'll never betray him and that he belongs totally to him pretty much every day. No one has ever claimed that Tuco isn't exhausted to deal with, least of all Trent :^P

Alright, this is way too long. I could talk about Trent and Tuco's fucked up relationship for a year straight if you let me :^P And that's not even getting into his relatively normal friendships with Nacho, Domingo, and Rivera, and his mutually suspicious, tentative friendship/cousin-in-law-ish-thing with Lalo and the twins.

[kaittalkstoomuch]

Hi pookies. Took me longer than expected… but… only the best for Bucky and Clare right? Chapter six is LIVE!

CHAPTER SIX

Tw: guns, alcohol, very very slight mention of torture, the red room, HYDRA, mentions of kidnapping

Once we get back to the compound, the silent mood turns into pure excitement. Laying my eyes on the other jet, I automatically know who’s here. “He’s here a day early!” A huge grin forms on my face. I’m the first to rush in and of course I wanna see my father.

I will always remember the day I was “accidentally” rescued. The team was on a mission to apprehend Stryker. I recall the feeling being intense and eerie. Like, something had happened prior to the events that transpired. Maybe a fight? You could cut the tension with a knife.

The knife that cut it was a familiar voice as I was gathering my things. I thought, “this could be it.” “Please be a door. Please be a door. YIPPIE!” I couldn’t believe who I was hearing. My father opened the door to my cell, which was actually more homey than the one in Serbia.

I was in full disbelief when I saw him. I thought I was hallucinating. I always felt foggy there and I can’t seem to remember why. His eyes brightened in shock. “Clarebear.” His first word to me since that ill-fated night two years ago was my nickname. He hauled me onto that quinjet so quickly that I didn’t get to say goodbye to the twins. Everything moved fast.

Then came the very tearful reunion after Ultron with my mother. The three of us went through so much after that night. Dad was missing all the way in Tennessee and my mother was also kidnapped and was given powers by this thing called Extremis.

Yeah, the three of us went through some fucking shit. I couldn’t talk about what happened for months, until recently. What Rumlow did to me, I can’t even speak out loud yet. I cannot remember what Stryker did though. That part is quite fuzzy and I’m terrified to know.

When I was in the Red Room, I was mind controlled to Dreykov’s liking, only I was defiant. Absolutely, if my theory is correct and Bucky and I were lovers while he trained me, oh yeah. I was Dreykov’s weakness and strength for my smarts and combat. I didn’t even make it to my Graduation ceremony…

Now, as I try to recollect my every being, something feels missing. And I can’t put my finger on it. It feels as if there was this invisible string tethering, pulling. I had that same feeling when I was with Bucky for that split second earlier. It felt warm and familiar. I had butterflies and a sense of peace with him.

I can’t help but to think, could he be it? What that invisible string leads me too? He has to be. I have everything I need and yet, I still feel so empty.

I’m the first to enter the compound. Completely forgetting the two following me as I’m entranced by the decorations. Balloons of my favorite color. Confetti everywhere in black and red. The “CONGRATS CLARE” banner clad onto the kitchen ceiling. Dad had outdid himself.

“DAD!” I shout coming in almost starling Sam a bit. “CLAREBEAR!” He shouts with open arms and then cradles me in them. “I thought you weren’t coming in for another couple of days!” “I thought I'd surprise you! After all, we do have something to celebrate.”

I’m confused for a split second and then remembered. “Oh yeah, I’m part of S.H.I.E.L.D. now!” I say mustering as much excitement as I can. The truth is that I am excited. Truly. However, that overwhelming feeling of feeling like something’s missing from me takes over. Imposter syndrome, maybe?

“Here, have a drink.” Dad says holding out a dirty martini. The very thing that keeps me from thinking of everything, but causes some filthy dreams as of recent. I look at the drink in awe. “I’m not even twenty-one yet.” I say with a chuckle. “Sweetheart, you’ve earned it. Besides, I know you, Wanda, Natasha have drinks secretly.”

“Whoops.” I say sarcastically before grinning at Natasha behind me. “So much for being trained spies, huh?” slips out of my lips and I look around shocked. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” Everyone chuckles a bit. “Don’t be Clare. Humor is the best way to cope.” Vision states.

I grab the drink from dad and grin. “A dirty martini?” “Natasha said that’s all you can handle. Wanda also made it!” I look at the drink and examine it for a second. I smile at the sweet gesture from Wanda. She typically never makes the drinks, so I brace for myself.

“Thanks, Wands!” I call her by the nickname I gave her in Sokovia. She just always gave me those witchy vibes. “It was my pleasure, Clarebear.” A shiver goes down my spine by the way she says my nickname, which doesn’t happen.

“TO AGENT STARK!” Everyone has drinks in their hands at this point. All that’s missing were Thor, Bruce, Clint, and my mother. And theoretically, Bucky. “Cheers!” I say toasting to myself. I quietly drink my drink.

The sting of vodka burns my throat with the hit of vermouth. I giggle. She passed the test. “IT’S SO GOOD WANDS!” Her smile beams all around the room, with a noticeable red hue that sparkles in her eyes…. Just like my dreams.

Believe it or not though, we’ve been each other’s rock since Sokovia. We had adjoining cells. I was close to Pietro as well. He was incredibly protective of both of us.

When we’d have “free time” from being experimented on, Wanda would always tell me that Pietro had a crush on me. I would say he most definitely didn’t and I wouldn’t be looking for anything. Plus, I wanted to stay on Stryker’s good side. Considering I’d be punished if I didn’t comply with the torture.

I suddenly wonder what would happen if I mentioned Bucky to her. I mean, if we were lovers, I would’ve gushed about him to my best friend right? No, not yet. I want to have a good time! By the time I’m buzzed because Wanda put a lot of vodka in my drink, dad pulls me aside.

“C’mon Agent Stark, I have a present for you.” I sip my drink with wide eyes. “You do?” “Of course! Anything for my incredibly intelligent daughter.”

He guides me to my room and I get confused. “Dad…” I start as I spin around to see if there’s anything different. “Not to sound like a spoiled brat, but… where is it?” I add a little giggle.

He smiles before handing me a bracelet. “Aw dad.” I say as he wraps it around my wrist and I inspect it’s colors. Red and grey, with lines of black and burgundy. The colors of a Black Widow and my favorite color. I’m actually quite speechless.

“I know, I really outdone myself.” I laugh at my father. “You did. It’s beautiful.” “I know you don’t find solace in what happened and it traumatized you. I completely understand buttercup. This is a reminder that you are who you are. You could use your abilities for good. You are a good person. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

I hug him tightly and laughed to hide the tears that were forming. “Thanks, daddy.” He’s right. I will use my abilities for good. The past two years made me who I am, even if I don’t remember the majority of it. “I love the details you put in it.”

I examine it further. It’s nanotechnology! Dad has been raving about his latest work with his suit. I’ve been excited to hear more about it! “Dad… is this what I think it is?” His shit eating grin tells me what I need. “I knew they wanted you to be a consultant for months. I’ve been thinking of how I could be with you. Protect you. So I made you this.”

I laugh. “As if I’m not a former ass kicking Widow.” I laugh more while I look at it and catch another detail. It’s similar to the one I made and then gave to Violet. I’m gonna be sick. “I made the color scheme from that bracelet you made. You are not alone, Clare.”

I hug him tightly again. “Thank you, dad.” I smile lightly. “I love it. Thank you for protecting me.” “Of course sweetheart. I’m your father, it’s my responsibility. My duty… also… you have a new buddy. Say ‘hi.’”

I look around confused. “Hello.” I look at the bracelet and then information about myself pops up as well as its name. I’m startled that I practically jump in my dads arms. “Hello, love!” The British sounding AI system speaks.

Dad smirks. “Meet L.A.N.C.E.! I based his voice off of that boy band you loved!” My dad mentioning One direction makes me want to laugh. “Were you trying to give me an arc reactor next?!” I joke pointing to the object in his chest.

“Do you have shrapnel in your chest?” He retorts back and we both laugh. “I made your own system while I was making F.R.I.D.A.Y.. I figured you can use a system as much as I do.” “Hi L.A.N.C.E. it’s great to meet you!” “It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Miss. Stark.”

I laugh at the “Miss. Stark”. Thinking of the possibility of “Mrs. Barnes.” “He will also only answer to you. He will be accessible on your bracelet and your other room as well.”

Fuck. My training room. He wasn’t supposed to know about that. “Nice aim with the bullets, by the way.” I laugh nervously. “Well, I did get trained to be a deadly assassin.” We both laugh. “I do wanna see your knife throwing skills too. Just don’t use widow bites on me.” I laugh again. “I won’t. I promise.”

My mood sombers when I start thinking of when I was in the Red Room. When I was training in combat and would fight other Widows in training, including Yelena. “Are you alright?” My dad snaps me out of it.

“Yeah… I’ve just been having nightmares about my captivity - which, I don’t remember most of. It’s crazy how time traumatizes you… How did you get through it?” Dad takes a deep breath as we sit on my bed. “This is gonna sound cliche, but you and Pepper. Coming out as Iron Man helped too. I had nightmares of being in captivity as well.”

I wrap my arms around him. “I’m so sorry, dad. You shouldn’t have gone through that.” “I’m okay, darling. We both went through some shit and it made us who we are today. Even your mother did.”

My mother. “When I was recovering from that alien invasion, I made dozens of suits to cope.” I smile sadly. “I remember.” I speak quietly, thinking of that brief period before I was kidnapped. “It almost cost your mother and I.”

My heart sinks. I do remember them fighting a lot and my dad never sleeping. My mom would be so furious with him. I’d be upset too, with both of them. I wish they could’ve worked it out then. But, my kidnapping and him saving her life brought them back together.

“Where is mom anyway?” I ask. He considers his answer very carefully. I note the hesitation. “She’s dealing with last minute things with Stark. She is really proud of you.”

Being trained to tell if someone is lying completely stuck. There’s something going on that he doesn’t want me to know. Not yet, anyway.

“That’s okay. She’ll see me soon.” I say with a fake smile. Dad smiles back in a sad manner. “Hey L.A.N.C.E.?” I say to test it again, while looking at my information. That’s a flattering photo of me. “Yes, ma’am.” Dad and I both laugh.

“Not ‘ma’am.’ I’m only twenty years old.” “Okay, yes doll.” My eyes widen and burn as I look at the information, which is now tinted red. The photo of me is now of me in my Widow uniform. “Doll.” Bucky’s voice is in my head briefly… he should be here.

“Do you think I could go back for more drinks?” I ask with a smile hiding my pain. “Yes. According to my data, you are not old enough to drink, but Mr. Stark says it’s okay. So, celebrate!”

Okay, I’m loving my new best friend, but my mind is still roaring with thoughts about Bucky and my time in the red room. They’re memories… they have to be. He was or is my lover. I somehow had my memories wiped and somehow they’re coming back. That’s the only explanation, but how?

“Let's celebrate and show off your new gift!” Dad says. “Yeah!0 I say getting ready for the either haunting dreams or filthy dreams.

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

           Jiang Yingyue, a 25 year old daughter of Yue Lao.            She is a maid at Sakura Lounge and a fighter at The Pits.

FC NAME/GROUP: Zhao Lusi CHARACTER NAME: Jiang Yingyue AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: November 9, 1998 PLACE OF BIRTH: Guangxi, China OCCUPATION: Maid at Sakura / Part-time Fighter at Fight Club HEIGHT: 161 cm (5’3″) WEIGHT: 46 kg DEFINING FEATURES: Yingyue always has a long, thick rope with heavy ball(meteor hammer) wrapped around her waist. Typically, she keeps her hair up, either in a loose bun or a long braid.

PERSONALITY: Kind-hearted yet heavily spirited, Yingyue always knew what she wanted, and despite the rules that naturally were in place, she always seemed to find a way to achieve what she wanted or needed to do. Her rebellious nature easily could create a path for disaster, but Yingyue’s heart was of gold, always willing to stir up a bit of trouble if it meant she could help someone. To survive such a willful spirit, the demigoddess learned quickly from a young age how to appease others. Though her powers helped to naturally, the charismatic demigoddess spoke as if her words were drenched with honey, especially when she got herself in trouble. Yingyue’s beauty and charm added to her luck, and the sweet woman had a knack for getting what she wanted.

Though she complained and ached about the monks’ boring teaching, Yingyue naturally soaked up any information she could get, as it gave her a platform for being more successful in her next mission. A sort of jack of all trades, Yingyue was just dangerous enough to be successful, but it had only been fighting and the art of persuasion that she was truly well-versed in. So, when she made her spot on the island, Yingyue wanted a chance to be able to follow her interests for once, even though she knew she could never not try to connect other’s red strings.

HISTORY: One late night, the monastery heard a loud bang at their gate and the shrill cries of a woman deep in pain. Deep in labor, Yingyue’s mother was just hours from giving birth, and the monks, unable to turn away a soul in trouble, welcomed her in, attempting to aid the painful birth as best as they could. The sweet child was barely held by the mother once she entered into the world, going into the arms of the Master Jiang where she would stay. Just an evening later, the mother disappeared in the night, leaving the monastery to raise the young demigoddess.

For a woman born in a environment that centered on discipline and focus, she was the exact opposite, a handful whose sweet words and lovable personality seemed to prevent her from too much repercussions from the master and other monks. Yingyue’s life revolved around training as long as she remembered. The monks taught her deep lessons in history, writing and poetry, the arts, and science. Yingyue often joked that she got the finest education, but through her youth, the arduous study sessions stifled her, causing some frustration for the monks that raised her. It was not until they began to teach her tai chi and the mystic arts that she found some interest in her studies. She could finally sit through the boring lectures if it meant that she could move and practice after.

As she grew a bit older, Yingyue finally got to see the outside of the monastery. The outside world only increased the trouble for the monks. On too many occasions, the demigoddess channeled her mother’s escapism, finding means on excursions to the city to explore and enjoy the various stalls and shops. Her master always would give her a firm scolding, but it would never stop her. For in these excursions, she met the sweetest, starving boy, and she realized that those many red strings that clung to master and brother’s ankles were not unique to them.

So used to seeing these strings of fate in the evening, she had never questioned their existence, and if she had, they always had thought she was a young girl with a wild imagination. After many evenings in the city, her chatter on the tangled cords and the matched couples finally grabbed the attention of her brothers. It took much consultation between them and other monasteries from further locales to settle on the truth. In so, the already beloved girl seemed to receive even more attention and support from her family. Yingyue found some new freedom due to her supposed demigod status, and her excursions to the city lasted longer. Romantic love had been such a foreign concept to her, and the need to understand it and assist it drove her to new lengths.

Even as a young teen, her skills and abilities learned at the monastery proved useful in helping lost lovers finally make their connection, to help them create a love story. It was fun, exhilarating. Every new couple gave her new problems to tackle for them, but Yingyue started to question the validity of these matches and the cruelness of not finding a soulmate. Her generally rebellious nature questioned the sanctity of her powers. For her monks who committed their life to training, what became of their soulmates? Did a destined lover always have a happy ending, and if not, why submit to that forced path? Despite so many questions, she continued, hoping to at least give the lovers a chance to make up their own mind. If they were meant to unite, she would allow them to achieve that fate just a bit faster. And in these adventures, she realized that the family that had raised her had merely been the beginning of her journey. Her master had realized at a young age that such a small monastery was not fit for her, So, when the demigoddess approached him, their time ended in a heartfelt goodbye to a family who had treated her well.

The many years following sent her through many major cities. The demigoddess grew some recognition, specifically being requested to help them in their pursuit of their soulmate. These quests kept her fed, but they also taught her more skills to add to her toolkit. From many women, she learned the art of dance, flirtation, and many skills that a monastery of men could never teach her. From many men, she learned the use of technology and some weaponry, specifically the meteor hammer which she fondly carries on her hip. Despite the satisfaction that came from her creative means of introducing young and old lovers, Yingyue felt a bit homesick, wanting to find someplace to at least call her own. And after visiting her father’s temple, it was a piece of red silk string that pointed her there. Falling from the sky, the small thread landed in her hand. With a small note attached, it directed her to an island for people like her. Half gods and deities. Now, those would be some love stories that she would love to help achieve.

PANTHEON: Chinese CHILD OF: Yue Lao POWERS: Under the light of the moon, Yingyue can see the red strings that connect lovers by their ankles. These strings travel all the way to their lover, and as the soulmates come closer, the string shrinks. Yingyue’s can only see these strings, and there is nothing she can do to change their fate. As the daughter of a god of love, the demigoddess is naturally charismatic, naturally radiating a welcoming persona that allows her to easily gain the trust of others. STRENGTHS: Fun-loving, Kind, Talented WEAKNESSES: Rebellious, Hedonistic, Hubris