#why mom should i move out or something why do you get pissed at small things

[laughing-with-god]

These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)

Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.

16.5k

Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol

Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.

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He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.

It was foul…

It was taboo…

It was…..

Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.

Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.

Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.

There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.

That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.

Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.

You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?

You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.

Writer’s block was a bitch.

Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.

Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.

You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.

‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.

When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.

Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.

When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.

The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.

Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.

He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.

Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.

The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.

You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”

Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.

You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.

“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”

It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.

He then turned to face the window again.

You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.

Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.

You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”

You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.

The front door was opening.

Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.

The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.

His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.

“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”

Time stood still.

Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.

Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.

The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.

There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.

No one can be in two places at once.

What the fuck was going on?

You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.

Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.

“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.

“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.

“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”

You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”

Your boyfriend’s face dropped.

“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”

You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”

“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.

Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”

Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”

You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.

Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.

“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”

“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”

Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.

“Which isn’t possible!”

“Go look then!” You relented.

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.

He found no such person.

It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.

“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”

You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”

“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”

You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”

Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”

That was the first incident.

— Dinner that night was a tense affair.

At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.

He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.

Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.

Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.

Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.

And just like that your first couple fight was over.

Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.

You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.

You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.

You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.

And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?

It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.

You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.

It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.

– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.

I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.

Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.

Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.

Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.

You and Taehyung have been off too.

There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.

Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.

Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.

Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.

Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.

You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.

You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.

Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.

Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.

Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?

You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.

You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.

He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”

You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”

“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”

You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.

He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”

Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”

You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.

Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.

Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.

You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.

It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.

You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.

“What’s that?”

He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”

You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”

Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”

“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”

A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”

Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.

You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.

“What did you put in this?”

“Oh just some cinnamon and-”

“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.

“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.

“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”

Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”

“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”

“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.

“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.

Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”

“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”

“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”

His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”

You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.

You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.

Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.

You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.

“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.

“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.

You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.

Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.

A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.

Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(

Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.

That was the second incident.

–

“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”

The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”

You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.

“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.

You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.

Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”

“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”

“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.

“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”

She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”

Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”

“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.

“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.

“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.

“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”

You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”

“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”

“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”

“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”

“None.”

“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.

You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”

“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”

“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.

“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.

“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.

“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!

The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.

A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”

The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.

The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”

The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”

The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”

“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.

“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.

The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.

While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.

Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.

Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.

You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.

Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.

Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.

The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.

The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.

He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”

You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”

“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”

You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”

“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.

The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.

You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”

Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”

You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”

“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.

You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.

You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.

Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”

You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”

“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.

The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.

You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.

His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.

As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.

A tug at your clothes.

Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”

Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.

It sounded like a…bang?

From somewhere deep within the house.

It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.

Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.

“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.

You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.

Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.

But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.

This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.

Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.

But nothing ever came.

Your worry grew tenfold.

The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.

‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’

Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’

At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.

Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.

“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.

“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?

You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.

Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.

The easel held a half-done canvas.

It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.

It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.

It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.

If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.

“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.

You didn’t even know what to say.

All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.

It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.

Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.

You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.

“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”

You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”

“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.

He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.

Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.

You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.

But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.

Then, he spoke.

“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”

It wasn’t a question.

He knew.

He believed you now.

–

It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.

You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.

Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.

You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.

Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.

You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.

Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.

Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.

Your boyfriend was understandably furious.

For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.

You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.

One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.

“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.

You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”

The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.

“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”

“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.

“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”

“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”

“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”

“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”

You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”

Taehyung didn’t say anything.

It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.

Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.

Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.

Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.

You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.

Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.

No one was there.

When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.

A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.

Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.

It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.

The sage didn’t work.

–

Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.

Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.

Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.

The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.

You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.

“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.

He followed you wordlessly to the car.

The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.

You both were still angry at each other.

Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.

The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.

You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.

You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.

He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.

“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine. What do you want me to get?”

“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible

He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.

You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.

“Y/n?”

The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.

No way.

It can’t be…

You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.

Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.

“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

You managed a wry smile.

Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.

But hey, who was counting?

“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”

The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.

“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”

You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”

He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.

“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”

Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”

“Y/n.”

A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.

Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.

“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.

You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.

“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”

The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

“So…how long have you two been together?”

Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.

“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.

“Oh, um, this is Molly.”

“His girlfriend! And you two are?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”

“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.

Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.

“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”

“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”

“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”

You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.

From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.

Even, right?

Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.

You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.

When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.

The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.

You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.

Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.

You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.

“What is it?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.

It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.

“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”

–

If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.

The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.

Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.

Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.

“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.

“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”

“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”

Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.

You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”

“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”

At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”

“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.

Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.

Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.

If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.

You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.

“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.

You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.

Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.

Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.

Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”

You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.

“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.

Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”

You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.

You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.

It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.

But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.

And it was almost as if Jimin never left.

You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.

“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.

Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”

“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”

“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.

You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.

Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.

You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.

Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”

Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.

When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.

“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”

“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.

“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.

“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”

She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”

You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.

“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”

“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.

A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.

Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.

– The clock was nearing midnight.

Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.

Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.

“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”

“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”

“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.

Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.

You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”

Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.

“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.

You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.

Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.

“Yes, handsome?”

His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”

“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”

He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.

Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”

You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”

“Damn, trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”

“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”

You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.

When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.

“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.

“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”

“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”

He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”

“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.

She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.

He blushed, “Thank you.”

“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”

Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”

You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.

You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.

Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.

Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.

Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.

Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.

And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.

The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.

When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.

Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.

A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.

Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.

The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”

Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.

The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.

“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”

“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”

Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.

“Ghost?” Jin laughed.

“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.

“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.

At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.

“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”

Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”

Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.

An awkward silence.

“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”

She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.

“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”

She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.

“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.

“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.

Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”

You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.

But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.

If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.

Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.

Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.

You felt even more cold.

“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.

You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.

You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.

“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.

Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.

You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.

The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”

Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.

Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”

Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”

“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.

The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.

Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”

You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”

He tiled your head to make you face him.

Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.

It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.

You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.

Black and white, really.

‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.

“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.

“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.

The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”

“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”

He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.

You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”

That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.

With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.

Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“So….”

“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.

Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”

You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”

You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.

It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.

“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”

“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”

“I broke up with Molly.”

“…What?”

“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.

You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.

He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”

“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”

“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”

You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”

“No.”

You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.

How did he get there without being spotted or heard?

It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.

“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”

Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”

“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”

“Please, Taehyung-”

You were cut off.

His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”

The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.

In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.

No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.

You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.

Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.

And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.

How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?

“Hey what’s going on here?”

Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.

You felt your body lighten in relief.

Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.

Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”

Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”

Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.

He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.

“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.

Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.

What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!

Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?

You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.

If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.

Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.

About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.

You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.

Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.

“So…that got a little out of hand.”

You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."

“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”

“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”

A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”

You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.

“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”

“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.

He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Done.”

“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”

He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”

“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”

His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”

“…anything else?”

“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”

He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.

Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.

Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?

If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…

Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.

You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?

Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.

You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.

A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.

“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”

He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.

“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”

You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight baby.”

“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.

You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.

Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.

Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.

The light under the basement door…it was on?

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

It couldn’t be….could it?

Your intuition was hollering at you from within.

A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.

Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…

And choked back a horrified scream.

At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.

Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.

It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.

So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

König is, obviously, a big little freak. Do you think he'd feel flattered/lovestruck if a cute girl stalked and was obsessed with him or would he be weirded out? I think the first: for once he gets pussy and love without having to do anything. Also it'd be kinda funny if he didn't even notice his little admirer at first cause she doesn't register as a threat and he's too busy being broody and depressed cause he's so alone (while reader is in her apartment fantasizing about their future kids and drawing little hearts on a pic of him)

Ohhh yes. König being oblivious af, thinks this is simply a joke.

It started out in school: cute little postcards that had bunnies or kittens or flowers or hearts on them, delivered to him by his mom who was smirking about how her boy had a secret admirer. There was nothing fancy scribbled on the other side, just soft, silly messages like: "I like you!" or "Your cute" or "Luv u ♡", and König saved them all.

…Until he showed the postcards to the wrong “friends”, who only made fun of them. One of the boys told him they sent those cards to him as a joke because no girl could ever want him, and König believed them. Allowed himself one, maybe two tears in solitude before he threw those cards away.

What was odd, though, was that the cards still kept coming. He always threw them in the trash, and at some point while growing up, they stopped arriving. No cats or hearts or cute mice illustrations for him anymore, just loads of video games and internet and a growing interest in war history and gym.

He didn’t think much of it after the age of 17, just went to the army to make a man out of himself. Got laid for the first time, got bullied some more, grew some muscle and grew some balls. Got kicked out of sniper training, his one and only dream, and went back home to brood for a few weeks.

That’s when he received the letter.

A 5 page love letter, written in beautiful, whimsical handwriting, smelling of something so angelic that it drove even the eternal stench of gunpowder and rust and military storage away.

König gets plunged into a whole world of soft feminine attention without even asking to, the letter now placed on his old desk that’s too small for him to sit at anymore. The fragrant sheets of paper are filled with confessions of adoration and love and… it would be a little bit creepy, were he a man who fancied so-called normal women.

He goes to the attic, searching his old cardboard boxes for the postcards to compare the handwriting, but can’t find none, remembering that yeah… he threw all of them away, didn’t he? The handwriting wouldn’t match anyway, that much he can remember, but then again it was a kid who wrote to him back then. Now, his admirer is a grown woman who apparently got back on her obsession train once he visited his childhood home after years of living abroad.

The hair on his shins, arms and at the back of his neck shoots up as he realizes some woman has a crush on him, some cute girl has been watching him since day one. Those postcards weren’t a joke, so she must have gone to the same school as him… She might be the daughter of some of their neighbors, living right next to him even now.

König goes door to door in search of her, but only wrinkly elders arrive to tell him that no, they never had a daughter or granddaughter or if they had, they have long since moved out to some big city.

He goes through the letter once again but finds no clues to who she is or where she lives. It’s just pages and pages of flattery about how he’s still the man of her dreams and so much more. How he’s even cuter now that he looks like someone pissed in his cereal. She wonders if he’s built the same everywhere, and if he is, then she should say her evening prayers… Too many impure thoughts going through her head already, why does he have to be so handsome?

König is in hell, as always, desperately trying to look for his admirer when he goes out to take the trash. Visions of some girl touching herself at the thoughts of him pester him from sunrise to sunset, and he has to take a cold shower every morning simply because one wank doesn’t seem to be enough to tame the big fellow downstairs.

He hugs his pillow and dreams of his girl, someone sweet to wrap his arms around and to protect. He fantasizes of someone cute waiting for him, someone he could surprise every time he gets home, someone adorable to eat out until they sob and squirm. Until he gets the stench of death out of his mouth…

A message arrives on his phone from an unknown number, and at first he thinks it’s spam.

But when he opens the message, he’s met with two perfect bare breasts. So fucking cute, especially when they’re accompanied by a set of fingertips grazing her soft skin; König even notices she has red nail polish on. So adorably, incredibly cute…

There comes a text that says: “I thought of sending you another postcard, big boy… But perhaps you don't care for kittens anymore. Hopefully this will do? ❤️”

There’s no face reveal, just tits and a cute female hand laid out there before him. Just a text that confirms that she’s the one. Typing a quick reply, he sends it to the unknown number: “This will more than just do 😳❤️❤️❤️”

Without thinking, like, at all, he pulls out his already hard cock and takes a hurried picture of it with a trembling hand. He usually knows better than to send a dick pic to a girl, especially after exchanging less than two sentences with them. But hey, she started this. The least he can do is give her something to pray about (and for)..

So he sends that horrid picture of his ugly cock to his cute mystery girl before she can even type a reply to the first message, and asks: “Are we praying tonight, my lady?”

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 37. go piss girl

YOUR HEART WAS POUNDING WHEN YOU HEARD THE LIGHT KNOCK ON YOUR CABIN DOOR.

It wasn't that you were nervous—okay, maybe you were a little nervous—but it felt as if butterflies had swarmed your stomach with their fluttering wings. Now, the space really did feel small. You weren't sure how Jay was going to fit in the same seat as yours, but the idea was strangely exciting.

"Hey," you whispered when you pulled open the door for him. You scooted to the wall so that you could make some more space for him. "I just pulled up the movie."

"Oh, we're actually watching Shrek," Jay deadpanned. When he took his seat and closed the door again, you both became hyper-aware of the proximity once your arms were pressed against each other. "Kinda cramped in here."

"It should be fine," you said quickly, trying to mask how flustered you were by gesturing toward the screen. "Look, they have all three movies!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not staying around for three whole movies."

You shot him a dark look, feigning great offense as you folded your arms across your chest. Jay seemed to not realize the weight of his words until after seeing your reaction, and he immediately flooded with panic.

"Wait, I meant, like—not that, just—"

"Relax, I'm just messing with you." You giggled, diverting your attention away to start the movie. "Have you ever watched Shrek before? I used to watch it every single day when I was a kid, apparently."

"Really?"

"Yeah, my mom was mortified when I wanted to"—you turned back to look at him and your breath caught in your throat for a moment; Jay was looking down at you with those sincere eyes that were far too easy to get lost in—"dress up as Shrek for Halloween."

"Shrek, huh? Did you ever get to dress up as him?"

"No, I ended up being Fiona. All of my friends back then were dressing up like princesses, and my mom wanted to dress me up."

"Ouch. Well, you can be Shrek this year."

"You'd have to be my Princess Fiona then."

"Whatever you want."

His eyes went a touch unfocused, and you started to get the feeling that he didn't exactly care about Shrek costumes anymore. You weren't even completely sure he was talking about them.

You only started realizing it recently, but why did he always look at you like that?

Like he wanted to kiss you.

You couldn't pinpoint it before because you weren't really looking. It was hard to catch most of the time because he was so well-guarded, but in fractions of seconds, you could catch him looking into your eyes as if they held the world, as if he would fall apart if he tore his gaze away.

So, hypothetically, if you made a move on him, it wouldn't be a completely miscalculated step, right? It was obvious something was going on between you two, and there were clear signs, right? You weren't clinically insane?

Your mind was swimming with questions when you realized that almost half of the movie had gone by, and you were zoning out for its entirety. Reality only sharpened when you realized Jay had leaned back to put his arm around your shoulders. Unfortunately, now you couldn't care less about Shrek and Donkey; you could only think about how warm Jay's body was and how hot your chest felt.

Your chest must have been rising and falling too fast because Jay asked, "Are you good? Am I taking up too much room?"

"No! You're good, it's just a little tight in here—yeah, that's all," you replied absentmindedly.

"Oh, well..." He looked around helplessly. (There wasn't much to look at, anyway.) "Wanna sit on my lap?"

Your heart jumped, leaped, imploded—whatever. So much adrenaline was pumping through your blood that you hardly even processed whether you replied to him or not. All you knew was that you were climbing onto Jay's lap before he could even get adjusted.

"Whoa," he murmured, holding onto your hips to keep you steady (but all he managed to do was ignite a fire inside you). "I thought you said no."

"Did I? Sorry, I mix up yes and no sometimes." What the hell? No, you don't, your brain reminded immediately after.

He grinned. "Oh, yeah, common mistake."

You were too busy staring straight ahead and trying to ignore how badly you wanted to crumble into his arms that you nearly jumped when you heard Jay's soft chuckle against your back.

His hands slid up to your waist, and he murmured into your ear, "I'm gonna move you to sit between my legs—hold on."

(Normally, this would make you horny, but Lord Farquaad and Gingy were getting into their exchange of The Muffin Man nursery rhyme that never failed to make you laugh.)

"This good?" Jay asked once you two were settled. You were leaning back against his chest as you laid between his legs. Jay had his hands on his thighs, but you swore they were inching closer to you.

"Really good."

"Yeah?"

His pointer finger grazed your skin ever-so-slightly, and you fought the urge to press your thighs together. After all, you didn't want him to think his hands weren't welcome. As you two fell into complete silence, watching the movie but not really watching it, you found that Jay's hand was getting closer and closer until four of his fingers were on your thigh.

He used this time to ask (in a much lower voice now), "How about this?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, your voice hitching in an almost humiliating way, and you could feel Jay's chest swell as his hand moved fully onto your thigh. "I like that."

The movie was nearing its end by now, and you were both still silently watching, Jay's hand hardly moving from your thigh. There were a few times where he moved it down, only to bring it back up again, but you were careful not to react in a way that would make things awkward.

But when you realized that he was probably going to leave, you figured this was your chance to make him stay, to see if things could progress. Wasn't this the perfect time, anyway? With everyone asleep and a cabin to yourself, this was probably the most privacy you would get for the weekend.

You turned your head just enough to look up at him, and those butterflies swarmed around in a torrent when his gaze dropped to your lips for a brief second. You straightened up a little to place your hand on his shoulder, angling your body a little to face him.

"Um," you started in a small voice, "do you wanna stay a little longer?"

Jay's hand moved up to grip your inner thigh with just enough pressure to keep you at a comfortable angle, and, again, you fought down the gasp. "With you?"

You smiled. "Yeah."

The space between you two was getting smaller and smaller. It was as if some magnetic pull was drawing your bodies closer and closer... and your lips were inches apart... and then Jay jerked away, as if he had snapped out of some trance.

"I can't, sorry," he said quickly, removing his hand from your thigh to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. "It—it's getting late, and I should really get some sleep before we land."

Disappointed, you started moving so that he could have an easier time getting out of your cabin. You were half-expecting things to end up like this; moving fast with him wasn't going to work, but at least you knew now that he definitely felt some way about you.

"Goodnight," you told him, managing a smile. "Thanks for keeping me company."

"Yeah, it was fun."

He gave you that look again before closing your cabin door. You felt yourself deflate a little. It was an odd feeling, but you felt lonely when he was gone. You never really felt this way about Sunghoon since you got used to the loneliness, but Jay, who made an effort even as your friend, made you feel different.

Suddenly, your cabin door flew open again, and Jay was standing with regret painted all over his face.

"Look, I didn't mean to do all that and just back off," he said in a rush, sitting at the edge of your seat so that he could mutter everything to you in a low voice. "I just... it's hard right now, like, right now, as in—"

"Stop," you said, smiling ear-to-ear as your chest flooded with relief. Yeah, maybe you just needed to move a little slower. "I get it, don't worry."

"It's not that I don't..." he trailed off, gazing at you with deep longing etched in his eyes before he sighed. "Just... doing this right now is—"

"Jay, please," you tried again, reaching out to grab his hand. You tilted your head. "You can just make it up to me later. We can grab dinner in Monte Carlo?"

He seemed to be much less distressed now, merely sighing with contentment and nodding over and over again. "Yeah, let's do that."

"Goodnight, Jay," you sang with a teasing lilt to your voice.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

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SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @zerasari @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowww @enha-stars @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct @hooniesuniverse @enhalov @enhypens-baby @isawritesss

[fandom-lover2]

Wayward Adjacent

What if, when Sam and Dean met Adam, he wasn't the only child of John Winchester they found.

Chapter One - Who Are You

Word Count - 1163

Chapter Two - Why Are You Here

I slipped my key into the lock and twisted, and realized that the door was already unlocked.

Well fuck…

Maybe I could still recover from this. Before I had the chance to pull my key out the door, the front door swung open, and I came face to face with a pissed older brother.

“I dropped you off at school two hours ago.”

I shouldered past Adam and into the house, not bothering with my shoes. I wouldn’t be here long.

“Didn’t watch me go into the building.” I shot back, intent on ignoring him for the journey up to my room.

I stopped however when I unexpectantly found two men in our front room. One was freakishly tall, and had longish hair that ended below his ears. The other was tall, but not as tall and had clean cut hair. Both dressed like they came from a small town romance novel, boots, flannel, leather and Carhartt jackets.

“Who the hell are they?”

“Who the hell is she?” me and the shorter one spoke at the same time, and then blinked at one another.

Adam walked in behind me, for some reason holding the framed picture of him and John at his 14th birthday. “This is Andrea.” he introduced as he gestured to me. “Andrea, these are our brothers; Sam-”

 “And Dean.” I finished, John’s words resonating in my head.

The men, my brothers, looked at me with a mixture of surprise and horror. The shorter especially looked mortified at my existence.

“Wait, you knew about them?”

“John mentioned them in passing.” I answered distracted, eyeing them up and down closely.

So, these were the guys I was supposed to turn out like. Jonathan would get a kick out of meeting them

. Wait, but if they were here, then I was right. Kate’s disappearance wasn’t natural, the things in the dark had something to do with this.

“Andrea is only my half-sister.” Adam went on to explain. “When her mother died, John brought her here, and my mom took her in. She’s been living with us for a year and a half.”

The shorter one recovered from his shock and was now pissed. And that pissed off look was the one I knew all too well, because it’s the one I saw every time I looked in the mirror. “So, what did Dad do for your birthdays?” he ground out.

“John never came around for my birthday.” I fired back. “Didn’t even know when it was.”

His eyes softened, pity replacing the pissed off.

“How long has your mom been missing.” the taller spoke suddenly, bringing everyone back to the problem at hand.

“Three days.” Adam answered.

“You the last one to see her?” Shorter one addressed me, now studying me differently.

“No.”

“The neighbor saw her get home Tuesday night but she never made it to work Wednesday morning.”

“Where were you?” Taller one asked me.

“School camp. Got back last night.”

Smaller one froze, his eye catching something. I followed his gaze to the framed picture of Kate and John. He dropped his head, eyes clenched. Maybe my mom wasn’t the only cheating one in the relationship. Adam continued answering taller one’s questions about Kate and her disappearance.

“Should have been here.” Adam added to the end of his explanation, eyes tearing up.

I personally wasn’t as affected by this as I should have been. Sure, Kate was welcoming and nice, but we never really formed a bond. Besides, she was always at work so. And Adam was leaving for college as I moved in, so I only knew it from the few times he was home.

Mostly, I was still thanking God that John was dead. If he found out I’d let something happen to Kate, he’d fucking kill me.

“What the uh, what the cops say?” Shorter one saved us from all the emotion.

“Uhh, they searched the house. They didn’t find anything.” Adam answered. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes getting more tear filled as he bounced a little on his feet. “She wouldn’t leave without telling anybody.” his voice cracked.

I’d been like this, with my mom. A crying, emotional wreck the second anything was wrong with her. When you grow up with a single mom, they become more than a parent. They are a friend, a mother, a constant. Loosing the only parent you have leaves the inner child in you scrambling for something to hold onto.

I’d long since given up needing someone to kiss my boo boos, but Adam was still close with his mom.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end again. Since I’d gotten back yesterday, I felt on edge. I couldn’t figure out why. Something wasn’t right, had my hackles up. It was beginning to piss me off.

“It looks like she just dropped off the face of the earth, you know?” Adam continued.

It was silent for a few seconds, as the two men, my eldest brothers, looked at one another. It was in that moment that I realized this was the first time all three of my brothers and I were in the same room. I knew of them, Adam didn’t. They didn’t know about Adam and me. In this room, I had the most knowledge. Which meant, I was going to be questioned soon enough.

“Well, I’m just here for my laptop so I’m gonna…” I made to move out the room and back towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are you going?” The tallest asked.

“Somewhere.” I replied, leaving the room and charging up the stairs.

Once at my room, I closed the door and locked it.

Oh my god! Sam and Dean were here! How did they get here? What had Adam done?

If Sam and Dean knew, if Adam had called them, did that mean John know? Would John come? If John knew I’d let something to Kate, if this was all something metaphysical, I had failed.

He was going to kill me. I needed to get out of here, before he got here. Clean my tracks long before he rolled into town. I didn’t have time to waste.

Darting around my room, I grabbed my backpack and began packing everything I thought I needed. Shirts, only 2, a change of pants, spare hoodie, a handful of underwear and three socks, hairbrush.

Why the hell would Adam phone them? Why the hell would Adam think of calling John? I didn’t even know Adam and John were still in contact. Of all the stupid things my older brother had done, this one took the cake.

All I needed was my toothbrush and I’d be set.

Switching out my jacket for a warmer, waterproof coat, I slung my backpack on my shoulder and pulled my door open. And almost collided into a chest.

Shorter one stood before the door, crossing his arms when he spotted my backpack. “Going somewhere?’

Well crap…

[soft-for-them]

Palm readings and tulips - Roman Godfrey x plus size reader

Summary: You and Roman are close, best friends even. You think he doesn't love you despite everything pointing to him loving you.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Before writing this I hadn't watched Hemlock Grove since I was like fourteen so at this point in time I've only re-watched the first few episodes so the characters are probably way ooc. Not proof read.

-

Since turning eighteen, aka a legal adult, you’ve realised that you still don’t have the power to do much at all. You’re still learning to drive despite knowing that you won’t be able to afford the cost of a car on your own. You’re working part time and you’re still somehow waking up every morning to go to school which seems to never end.

Then there’s Roman.

Best friends since your family moved to Hemlock Grove when you were twelve, the promise of a job at the steel mill shattered as soon as you arrived leaving you to play outside alone whilst your parent(s) worked over jobs. Roman's always been generous with his disposable wealth when it comes to you because of your family situation.

Roman Godfrey with his fancy little red car always filled with fuel, his house always open to you when you don’t feel safe at home, his disregard for the price of anything, him choosing to always pay for your shopping the rare time he stalks around a shop with you when he’s not busy bedding other people. With a flick of a wrist he can get anything he wants no fake ID or drop of his prestigious name needed, though he does the latter one regardless, Roman Godfrey has the world at his feet.

Maybe that’s why you’re forever thinking up reasons why he’s still friends with you.

As you bang you head on your dull green locker, no one around the hallways to stop you doing so for most if not all the students have been killed in gruesome bloody ways only leaving the younger students and the less than savoury upper-classmen left. To think, if you didn’t have someone like Roman following you around like a shadow then you’d probably be mauled to death and left in a ditch somewhere.

What a lovely thought indeed.

Raising your head you look down the hall, only small clumps of people mulling around, a larger group of tall teens clad in baggy clothes huddled around some lockers probably looking at something indecent catching you attention.

“I am an adult for crying out loud.” you mutter to yourself as you check you book bag filled with heavy textbooks and your large novelty pencil case, “I should be out of this fucking town.”

Then a loud obnoxious laugh, one that sounds more like some exclaiming ‘HA!’ rather than a proper laugh echoes down the hallway reminding you that nothing good ever comes from such fake sound.

So with a reluctant sigh you mosey over to the group of boys, not caring that you look half dead in your oversized baseball jersey and baggy mom jeans, your bag clutched in your hands ready to use it as a weapon if need be.

“Alright fuckers what you looking at now?” you holler as you squish in between two towering boys who smell like B.O and dress like nul metal band rejects.

The best outcome is that they’re all ogling at a magazine of scantily clad women or huddled around a small screen of a phone looking at social media but no, sitting against a locker looking horrified is none other than Shelley Godfrey.

Her long faux hair droops over her entire face as she tries to look as small as possible, her long grey cardigan pooling on the dirtied checked floor of the hallway, her arms holding onto her speaking tablet with an inhuman clutch.

Your face turns stern, tired eyes showing how pissed off you are, the very small amount of power you have in this supernatural town bubbling up.

Most all the boys huddled around you both are way taller, a couple of the shorter ones plus size like you, so really you are outnumbered in every way including size. However, somehow the remaining gaggle of teenage boys who roam the school have an odd resect for you. Much like how Roman, when he’s not fucking someone or completely gone like he was never alive, they follow you around school like lost puppies finding you entertaining, your straightforward and sarcastic wit making you ‘one of the boys’.

That and you’re one of the very few teens who Roman hasn’t bedded, some of your classmates almost seeing you like a challenge for surely soon enough Roman will fuck you too. You’ve overheard them talk about you like this many times, too many for your liking and you have mixed feeling about how they see you. On one hand some people see this pretty young woman who must be next on Roman’s conquest whilst others see you as just ‘the fat girl’ and nothing else.

For once in your life you’d like to be seen as more than a piece of meat but you digress, you’d much rather have the respect of these teenagers than have their ogling eyes look you up and down like your either their next fuck or next bullying target.

 “What? Her wig was falling off, it’s funny (y/n).” one smiles thinking that you’re going to happily chuckle alone with them.

Honestly you feel too much like a mother goose sometimes, these greasy teenagers your rebellious goslings who think you’d laugh along with them at such cruelty.

“Oh! FUNNY LIKE BREAKING YOUR DICK!” you shout at the top of your lungs, everyone is a five mile radius knowing it’s you shouting out your secret knowledge.

No one other than you and the gaggle of lanky teens surrounding you know who you’re exactly talking about however everyone else will have a fun time trying to guess who ‘broke’ their dick and hopefully the humiliation will hammer it into their head not to mess with Shelley Godfrey again.

“Come on (y/n)!” one scoffs whilst another gives you a “not cool bro.” to no avail.

“Where’s your brother?” you ask in you softest voice as you crouch down to Shelley’s height ignoring the scattering boys who try to do damage control now that everyone, which isn’t a lot compared to the beginning of the year, has heard what you shouted.

Speak of the devil Roman appears out of nowhere crouching down beside you as you talk softly to Shelley.

“Where the fuck have you been rich boy?” you scoff as you turn your head to look at your childhood befriend.

“How did you know Tyler broke his dick?” Roman retorts back with a handsome smile.

You ignore him, instead you help Shelley up.

“I’m not a blushing virgin Rom-“ you smile up to Shelley silently nodding asking is she’s ok which gets you a smile back before looking back to Roman, “- me and his brother was in the middle of some things when that idiot fell in the shower screaming bloody murder ‘My dick’s broken, my dick’s broken!’.”

You were having fun too, it’s not that often that a hot guy genuinely takes an interest in you let alone a hot college type who can take your wondering mind off Roman Godfrey, but then his idiot younger brother had slipped whilst belting out pop tunes in the shower making everyone in the house hold privy to the fact he hurt his member.

It was quite easy sneaking out whilst his family crowded around the bathroom, though your thoughts where quickly back of Roman.

As of late all you’ve been thinking about is Roman, that and escaping Pennsylvania but mostly of Roman’s stupidly handsome face.

Him looking at you now with eyes so filled with emotion, most of which you can’t decipher makes you almost blush and fumble. However before you can blurt out your feelings for the guy who used to follow you around town whilst you caught bugs or explored the library instead of going home you offer your arm to Shelley stating you’re going to take her to her class.

Shelley takes your arm with a small smile, a faint glow of blue like a firefly radiating from under her fringe. Roman follows closely behind you protectively, his heart filling up with an emotion he hasn’t properly felt in his life.

Love.

Roman Godfrey, the most powerful person in school, the man who is your shadow, in love with you.

“He’s not happy with you (y/n).” Peter says between puffs of his cigarette the two of you sat at the front of his static home.

He offers the cigarette to you but you refuse it.

“He’s never happy with me lately.” you say not believing a word that comes from your lips, you don’t think Roman has ever be properly angry or disappointed in you, not really.

“You know that’s a lie.” Peter says nudging your arm as you stare off into the distance to the house upon the hill.

“Peter, don’t contradict yourself.” you hit his arm back.

Ever since Peter Rumancek moved here you’ve been spending more and more time with him, well not as much as Roman has but you’ve been spending more time with the shaggy haired man then at home.

“What I mean is that he's annoyed at you.” as Peter talks you lean you head down on his shoulder, the late afternoon slowly fading into sunset, the air around going cold.

“How so?” you ask looking up at him.

“Something about a brother and you helping his sister.”

“Ah, that.”

Sighing, nuzzling your face into Peter’s bicep you try to figure out how to explain to him the situation that you hadn’t even realised was a situation until now.

So you explain it to him. In as little words as possible you recount the story of having a one night stand with a classmate’s older brother and the ensuing hilarity that you used as leverage to help Shelley.

“He really likes you.” Peter says bringing his hand up to pat your head as you slump down more into his arm like it was a pillow on your bed.

“Of course he does Peter, we’ve been friends since we were twelve.”

You don’t want to really explain anything more to Peter because you know exactly what he’s trying to get out of you.

Surely someone like Roman can’t like you back, right?

And from that conversation sometime later the next week you find yourself sat awkwardly on a throw covered blue sofa, a decorative pillow on your lap and Peter by your side fully relaxed.

Destiny has been kind to you the half an hour you’ve been here, she’s offered you tea, told you embarrassing stories about Peter and genuinely been hospitable and nice however as she breaches the subject of why you’re here you start to feel nervous.

It was Peter’s idea, he had been the one to bring up Destiny’s palm readings and curtsey of Peter you’re getting the palm reading for free. You’re not some naive little girl any more so you can take whatever Destiny gives you. Unlike the bigots of the town who think Destiny is scamming people out of their money because she is Romani you’re hopeful that she can give you a good reading and get Peter off you back to boot for he has been trying to tell you that Roman like likes you all week.

But still you’re nervous and jittery.

Destiny asks for your hands which you reluctantly hold out.

“I know you’re probably really good at this-“ you begin as she cradles your hands, your palm upward facing, Destiny leaning over to look at them, “-but I don’t need you tell me if I’m going to have kids or if I’m going to rich.”

Your eyes flicker between her and Peter.

“That’s no entirely how this works.” Destiny grins as Peter touches your arms to try to calm you down, “Anyway from what Peter has told me we may only need to look at your heart line.”

“Heart line?”

“Love.”

“Oh! Yeah, love…” your face scrunches up in worry, “Sorry, I’m not saying you’re a fake or anything but I, well, I already know who I love already, I just haven’t done anything about it so I don’t need a reading for that.”

She smiles, the dimpled lines either side of her mouth appearing as she does, her eye sparkling with curiosity.

“Peter you should have brought her over sooner.” she says eyes trained on you, “Shall we begin then?”

You nod a quick yes.

She begins tracing your palms, her fingers light but slow as she figures out both your past and your future form just the curved line of your hands.

“This hand-” Destiny begins cradling your non dominant hand, “- this one show your past.”

Her manicured finger traces a long line slightly jagged and curved.

“You’ve been through a lot.” she states, not trying to get anything out of you but allowing you to speak if you want to, “I assume it’s to do with your family.”

Two hours later Peter's leading you out of Destiny’s flat, a promise to visit again as a friend promised to her, tear soaked tissues stuffed up your sleeves and Peter holding your hand as he leads you onto the street now bathed in yellowing streetlamp light.

“That was a lot.” you try to upbeat but all that comes from you lips is a solemn exhale, “Promise you won’t tell anyone about all that?”

He bumps his shoulder into yours, his hand squeezing yours in a silent ‘yes’.

“Not even the bit about twelve year old you falling in love with Roman?”

“Shut up.” you laugh as you knock your shoulder into his back playfully, “Now walk me home.”

The next day after Destiny’s palm reading you’re overthinking too much so much so you get a headache that can only be cured by taking a long mid-morning nap.

Thankfully it’s the weekend and you don’t have work but unthankfully as you groggily wake up from your impromptu nap you hear the tell tell signs of one Roman Godfrey lowering himself down on top of your crowded double bed, his nicely dressed frame clashing with the teddy bears and old granny floral sheets of the bed.

“You climb through my window or something?” you ask as you drag yourself up into a sitting position, ignoring the fact your face comes dangerously close to Roman’s.

“No one’s here (y/n) so I used the key underneath the front door mat.”

“Liar-” you joke as your rearrange your twisted t-shirt on your plush body, “-the key is under the pot Rom, you know, the one with the dead tulips.”

You both maybe siting side by side, you under the covers and him fully clothed, but you can see his growing smile on his smug face from the side of his face, mischief soon to come.

“What, stop smiling like that and spit it out.”

His smile grows into a clown like grin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He bends down to the side to pick something off the floor. On hand latches onto your leg anchoring him down as he bends down hanging his other arm off the bed, warmth rising in your face at the rather forward action.

He rises bringing, what at first you think is a wad of paper, up but as you look closer you see the paper is combined with translucent pink plastic in a cone shape holding flowers in place.

Flowers.

Not just any flowers but blood red tulips, much more vivid and alive than the ones that used to live by your front door. And they’re not some supermarket type flowers either, there’s no barcode stuck to the plastic or creasing on the paper from where they’ve been sitting in a pot with other bouquets of flowers. No, they’re big, new and most certainly handmade, so perfectly arranged that they must have cost too much, well too much for you anyway.

For Roman it probably was nothing at all, his wallet still filled with too much money.

You must be frozen in place for Roman, one hand still on your leg, passes over the bouquet of tulips.

“Who you got these for?” you ask.

“I don’t like seeing you sad.” he says leaning closer so your noses almost touch.

“I’m not sad.” you try to smile, your eyes flickering between the blood petals and his sharp mesmerising eyes.

“I saw you yesterday with Peter, you were crying.”

Despite there being a thin blanket separating your bare legs from his hands you can feel him stroke patterns near your knee.

“Then why didn’t you come over then? You know I’ll always have you.”

Your words come out wrong for you were trying to say that he’s always welcome in your home though you guess the growing bubbling feeling of love has impaired your mind just a bit.

As your eyes look at the flowers you miss the hungry, almost monstrous look flash in Roman’s eyes, his pupils going large. It takes all his strength not to grab you and kiss you all over making you his.

He won’t even tell you either that last night another classmate died, that he was trying to investigate it.

“I’m taking you out.” he demands.

“Ok.” you say feeling that you can't decline, the thought of it being a date pushed out your mind for Roman always seems to be spending money on you, “Let me get dressed first Rom.”

[lee-doesnt-knoww]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 - 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ - fem!reader, smut, kissing, thigh riding, nickname (angel), spit kink (?), jealousy

ᵃ/ⁿ - first ff ever so it might not be awesome, english is not my first language so if you see any mistakes, please tell me babes

Taehyun was the captain of the famous basket team at your school, but you and him both have hated each other since forever. Your parents have been friends ever since you were born and even before. You both argue over every single thing that happens, fighting for nothing and bikering 24/7. One day, his mom asks you to drop him his lunch at practice as she got called back into work for an emergency, as nice as you were, you couldn't say no to a woman who was basically your second mother.

As you came into the gymnasium, you saw him with some of his friends, some girls cheering and admiring their every move from the bleachers. He saw you coming in with a bag in hand, he walked over to you with an angry expression on his face, some girls spying him "What are you doing here?" "Your mom asked me to drop that to you" As you give him the bag, he searches inside and grabs a towel, also noticing his lunch and a drink. "Why did she need you? Couldn't she come herself?"

He asks with a hint of annoyance both from having to thank you and from the girls who are whispering loudly, not far. You roll your eyes as they talk about me being his possible girlfriend while giggling and whining about how jealous they would be if it were true. You sigh as you answer him, ignoring the fangirls. "I'll see you later, mom said you're coming for dinner"

You wave at him as you walk towards one of his teammates, greeting him with a smile and a small hug as you chat happily. As Taehyun sees this, his jaw drops slightly, only adding more to his confusion, he hears the girls talking between them, giggling not so silently.

"Wait isn't she his girlfriend??" "Maybe that's the one who's her boyfriend!"

He gets jealous at the view of you near him, not knowing why it bothers him so much to know you close with his friend. Seeing you laugh as you waved at him while walking to the gymnasium's exit, he calls you out while catching up with you. "Hey, wait!"

You turn around, letting out a small gasp as you collide with his chest making you take a step back as you tumble. He grabs you by the waist to stabilise you, his arm wraping around you. He asks with an angry and demanding tone. "How do you know him? Is he..?"

He shakes his head as he stops himself from ending his phrase, letting go of your waist as the girls observes them. You look up at him, head tilted and face full of confusion as you neat your shirt, wrinkled from his arm. As you hear the fangirls once again, you let out a groan and grab his hand, dragging him out of the gymnasium to a nearby foutain, the place only full of trees. Nobody to hear you talking.

"What was that about?" You cross you arms as you look at him with a frown, leaning on your hip. He stares at you, a mix of jealousy and annoyance on his face. "How do you know him?"

"Is that all you're angry about?? He's my classmate who helped me with the math I was struggling with!"

He looks even more pissed as he takes in your answer, he's about to say something but he's distracted by the sight of your lips, you bit them while you were dragging him away, making them more puffy and pink now. He was spacing out, only focusing on your lips as he grabbed your chin, making you look up as he examined your lips, his thumb playing with your bottom lip. You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. "T-Taehyun what are you doing..." Blushing as his hand goes to the back of your head, the other reaching for your cheek. He stares at you, loving the feeling of having you blushing for him, he gets lost in your eyes as he gets closer, his forehead resting against yours. "You make me crazy...I hope you know that, angel"

As you whispered his name, his lips close the distance and kiss yours. One of his hand playing with your hair as the other rubs over your chin, making you let out a small sigh as you kiss him back. He pulls you closer, his lips kissing yours over and over, letting out a soft grunt. Your legs trembling as his tongue pokes at your bottom lip, asking entrance to your mouth.

You moan in the kiss, grabbing at his shirt as on of his leg takes place between your thighs, the hand that was on your cheek now on your hip, pressing you to sit down on him. While you do, your hips stutter, heat spreading to your lower core. His hand starts to make you ride his thigh as you gently accept and follow his hand. As your hips start moving on their own, you let out sinful moans of his name in the kiss, only making him more turned on.

Suddenly a call of his name from afar brings you both back to reality. You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips together, making you blush as he wipes your lips with his thumb then licking it. As he takes his leg away, he holds your hips and neat up your skirt, brushing away any dirt or wrinkle. While he does so, you hold onto him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you stand on your tippy toes. Even if he's now done with your skirt, he hugs you, arms wrapped your waist as he whispers in your ear. "I'll see you at home later, yeah? I'll be over as soon as practice is over angel." He kisses your forehead as you both let go, waving as you part ways.

For some reason, you were happy that he was coming for dinner this time.

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 23.

Xilä is my own creation.

~

Part 8 - Misunderstandings

Although Salveen and Jxo’s tent was relatively small, ever since Xilä had moved in, it had quickly become a social hub- much to the elder’s delight.

Salveen loved to entertain guests. So whenever the Sully siblings, Spider and any of their other friends came by to visit Xi, Salveen was always happy to whip up something tasty for them. 

The kids- as Salveen liked to call them, although all adults now, with the exception of Tuk, had started a weekly game night involving a combination of human and Na’vi games- resulting in a fun but boisterous atmosphere, especially when things turned competitive. 

Neteyam had learned early on that Xilä was quite competitive herself. He enjoyed sitting back and observing her taunting words towards her opponents, the excited glint in her eyes when she was about to win, her banter with his brother and Spider when things got heated, the little dance and handshake she and Kiri would do whenever they’d beaten the guys. 

She was a sight to behold and it was always difficult to look away. 

Tonight however, the first thing he noticed was that she seemed different. She was quiet. Reserved. Almost as if in a daze. 

Neteyam had arrived late and smack dab in the middle of a heated game between Lo’ak, Spider, Kiri and three other guys they usually hung out with. They were all seated around the rounded table in the centre of the tent, talking loudly and animatedly to each other. 

“You’re such a cheat monkey boy! I saw you hide something under your butt!”

“Oh yeah?” Spider taunted. “Come see for yourself then,” he said suggestively. 

“Don’t be gross man, that’s my sister,” Lo’ak grumbled over a mouthful of whatever treat Salveen had prepared that night. “Xi, are you sure you don’t want to get in on this rou- Tuk, would you let the girl breathe already?! She hasn’t even gotten a turn yet!”

Tuk, who was seated in Xilä’s lap, spat out her tongue at him. “We’re having girl talk Lo’ak!” 

Kiri snorted. “Tuk do you even know what girl talk is?” 

“Of course I do. It’s when girls talk. Duhhhh,” she sassed with an eyeroll before turning back to Xilä to continue to say whatever she was before. 

“See this is why I say we should leave her at home,” Lo’ak complained, “but noooo, because mom says if she wants to go, we have to bring her along.” 

“Neteyam, hey man,” W’aote said, being the first one to spot him arrive. “Sub in for me this round will you? I’ve got to piss,” he requested, standing and leaving before Neteyam could even respond. 

Neteyam sat in his spot, greeting everyone as he did. He looked over to where Xilä and Tuk were seated on the other side of the table with an expectant stare, waiting for her to acknowledge him..….but she didn’t. 

Clearing his throat he asked, “ Where’s Salveen and Jxo at?” 

“D’avi’s,” they all replied simultaneously with the exception of Xilä.

“Xi, do you want to play this round?” he called out with a grin, but it soon dropped and his ears fell backwards when all she gave him was a polite smile and a quiet, “no thank you.” 

Throughout the night it became abundantly clear Xilä was avoiding him and he fucking hated it. She still smiled and laughed and participated in a few of the games, but he knew her so well by now, he could tell something was wrong. 

She was not herself….she was not herself with him specifically. Her smile never met her eyes when they fell on him, it was almost as if she was forcing herself to be around him. 

Later into the night, when he finally got paired with her for a team game, she kept her head tilted so that her hair cut off his view of her face. His jaw clenched and he ground his teeth in irritation and his desperation to find out what caused this sudden change, intensified. 

They had no privacy being in a room full of his siblings and friends. A few times he asked her under his breath if she was okay, and each time she’d smile and say she was fine.

It was a fucking lie of course. He was fighting a powerful need to toss her over his shoulder, march them out of there and make her tell him the truth. 

Neteyam was so focused on Xilä, and trying to figure out what had happened in the few hours he had left her alone, he was oblivious to his brother’s concerned glances. 

Lo’ak seemed to be the only one to pick up that something was off between the two. He didn’t comment on it of course, but decided to keep the others distracted and unaware of the strained tension emitting from them. 

During their final game, Xi was the first to lose. Feigning a headache, she stood and bid everyone goodnight before making an escape to her room. 

Neteyam cursed under his breath when Kiri stopped him from trying to covertly sneak after her- announcing to everyone, it was his turn to play.  

By the time the night was truly well and over, he stayed behind when everyone had packed up and left. Making his way into her room, he stooped and flicked on her lamp, ensuring it stayed dim. She was snuggled under a thick pelt, fast asleep. 

Refusing to leave her just yet he laid on his side, propped up on his right arm as he stared down at her serene face. He frowned while he traced her features with the pad of a finger- noticing the slight puffiness under her eyes for the first time. 

Had she been crying?

His feather light touch smoothed over her baby soft skin, her little twitching nose and those fucking kissable lips. He needed her to wake up already so he could see her eyes. He felt like he hadn’t seen them properly all night. 

What was he missing? Why wouldn’t she look at him? Why wouldn't she talk to him?

Giving up trying to figure it out, he kissed her forehead and gently pulled her into his arms. She murmured incoherently when he moved her, then snuggled into him unknowingly as she settled against his chest and slept on. 

He only wanted to hold her for a little while. 

~

When Neteyam awoke in his own bed the following morning, he felt like the universe was out to get him. 

He had one goal and that was to get to Xi’s tent first thing, but no he could not....because his father woke him at the crack of dawn to inform him that he had to leave to attend to a situation.

This meant Neteyam needed to step in for him to conduct an evaluation on one of the warrior units- which was scheduled first thing. 

Neteyam was irritable and cranky. He was snapping at everyone as he tried to get himself ready for the day. It truly seemed like his family members were all purposely trying to piss him off. 

He felt horrible after because he had even made poor Tuk cry by yelling at her when he noticed she had painted flowers on the handle of his lucky dagger- thus ensuing an earful from his irate mother. 

“Get out!” Neytiri hissed through clenched teeth after her long angry berating. She had had enough of his bad attitude. “What is with you today? This is not like you Neteyam! Your mood has been like this all morning! Fix it or don’t come home.” 

“Bro. Bro!” Lo’ak called out, jogging to catch up to him when he stormed out. 

Neteyam made his way through Home Camp while adjusting the jewellery and comm device he had put on badly in haste. He blew out a breath, strapping a visor to his forehead. “Leave it Lo’ak. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine,” he said with a condescending grin. “I just thought in case you hadn't realized, and to reiterate what mom said...but you’ve been a massive dick.” 

Silence greeted Lo’ak as he continued to keep pace with his seething brother who was now fiddling with the strap of his riding satchel.  

“Is this about you and Xilä?” Lo’ak asked, going the direct route.

That had Neteyam halting and turning to stare at his brother suspiciously. “Why would you ask that?”

“A hunch?” Neteyam didn’t look like he believed him, so he went for the truth instead. “Look, I don’t know if you guys see yourselves, but usually you’re all….touchy and flirty. You two can’t keep your hands to yourselves, at all,” he said with a grossed out face. “You’re both completely oblivious to the sexual tension you create.” 

Neteyam swallowed. He honestly didn’t care at this point who saw them together. “So?” he said.

“So, I noticed she was all weird around you last night, okay? When you came in, she didn’t even glance your way…if anything, she looked tense. Normally Xi can’t wait to plaster herself to your side, and then you get this stupid goofy look on your face.” 

Neteyam’s ears lowered and a lodge formed in his throat. “.....I thought I was being crazy. It was weird, she was different- distant. I tried talking to her but all she did was fucking smile and say everything was fine!” 

“Are you going to go find her now?”

“I fucking wish,” he sighed, “I’m due to conduct an evaluation right now. Dad asked me to step in for him since he’s off dealing with some situation or the other...I’m already late and she’s all the way on the other side of Camp. I’ll have to find her after.” 

“Do you know what you did?” 

Neteyam rubbed the space between his eyebrows as if in pain, without response. That was all he thought about all night. He had no clue what he could’ve possibly done. 

So why was his idiot brother so adamant that he did something? 

“Not that I know of okay? And this could be all just a one off. We don’t know that something happened for sure.”

“Did you fuck her?” Lo’ak asked crassly. 

“What the hell man!” Neteyam hissed venomously with a backslap to Lo’ak’s arm, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard.  

Lo’ak simply shrugged. “I’ll take that as a no then. Did she want you to fuck her and you said no?”

Bewildered, irked and utterly pissed off, Neteyam stormed off, muttering an, “I’m fucking done with this conversation,” as he went. 

But the annoying pest that was his brother seemed to be resilient. “I’m just trying to help you, asshole!”

“Well I didn’t ask for your help!” he seethed over his shoulder. “Lo’ak, will you stay out of it?! This is none of your business!”

“Maybe, but I’m making it my business! Xilä is upset over something you’ve done and you need to fix!”

Neteyam stopped and rounded on his brother again, braids flailing around dramatically as he poked a finger to Lo’ak’s chest. “You keep saying that! What the hell makes you think it was something I’ve done?! Huh? What do you know? And quite frankly, why do you even fucking care?!”

“So what if I care!” he roared. “And I don’t know anything, alright?! I’m not the one she’s being weird around. It’s you dumbass! So I suggest you figure out whatever the hell it is you did you did, grovel your ass off and fix this shit!” Lo’ak yelled, giving his brother a two handed shove for good measure before he stormed away. 

Spider, who had observed the entire ordeal from afar, jogged after Lo’ak. He shot a bewildered looking Neteyam a curious glance as he went. “Hey cuz, what was that about? You two looked pretty heated.” 

Lo’ak shook his head as he headed straight for the labs. “Trying to talk some sense into him is all…Hey did Xi say anything to you yesterday?” he asked. 

“Uh…like what?” 

“About Neteyam? She was all weird last night.”

“No she didn’t and shit, I didn’t notice,” he frowned. “She seemed fine though. I don’t get why you think something’s wrong.” 

“Yeah I’m sure you didn’t notice,” Lo’ak said sarcastically. “Probably because you were so busy flirting with my sister,” he grumbled, ignoring his best friend's splutter of denial. “She’s not fine, Spider. It’s Neteyam she’s all off with. Something’s changed.”

“Um, no offence cuz but ah, you know the bet’s off right? You won….Why are you so worried about this? I care too but it’s not like it’s our problem to fix. They’re adults, they can work it out themselves.” 

Reaching the outskirts of the labs, instead of heading inside, Lo’ak sat on the steps of one of the trailers with a heavy sigh.

“Do you remember what I told you I overheard my parents arguing about a while back? About what the council wants from Neteyam?”

“Mhm, yeah I remember. It’s shitty,” Spider said, climbing onto the railing to perch on top. 

Lo’ak snorted. “Shitty is putting it lightly, he’s the eldest, so it’s expected of him. And you know the idiot…he’s all about following rules and tradition…so he’ll just go along with whatever they want- be their fucking puppet.”

He became silent for a moment. “That could have easily been me... except it’s not. I get to do whatever the fuck I want and he doesn’t. His whole life is already planned out,” Lo’ak explained. “They didn’t get to control my mother, so they’re trying to control him instead.”

“It bothers you…you feel guilty, don’t you?” Spider said seriously, staring at his friend with a frown. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I know I can be an asshole sometimes but I do care about him and I at least want him to be happy about the person he has to spend the rest of his life with- she’d be part of the family after all and…I’d rather it be someone I could put up with,” he added quickly, trying to play off the deep emotions he was suddenly sharing with his best friend. 

Spider ignored his joke and considered his words. “And you think that person is Xilä?”

Lo’ak gave him an “are you for real” look.

“Have you seen him this happy with anybody else? If they don’t sort this out themselves soon I’ll have no choice but to meddle…….His time is running out.”

~

Xilä stood from afar, watching with weighted breath as a team of ikrans swooped in complete synchronisation. One rider in particular caught her eye, causing a flutter to tickle her stomach. 

The riders landed one by one, gracefully dismounting before either releasing their beasts to open air again, or leading them over to the ikran enclosures a couple feet away. 

Neteyam spotted her the moment he landed. A prickle of relief and happiness tinged with uncertainty at the sight of seeing her there- waiting for him, flooded his chest. 

Although it hadn’t even been a full day since he’d seen her, he missed the heck out of her. All morning he contemplated last night’s events. He just wanted to hold her already- he felt deprived. 

Hurrying to dismount, he released Buddy to the open air again.

“Hey kids,” he called out to a small crowd of children who were all excitedly watching the warrior’s arrive. “Careful alright? Not too close to the fence,” he advised as he passed them, reaching out to grab his satchel that was hooked on a fence spike.

“Yes Sir.”

“S-sorry Sir.”

“You guys that was Neteyam,” one of them whispered in awe. 

Not stopping for a second he quickly closed the distance between him and Xilä as he removed his riding visor and then unstrapped his bow and arrow carrier, tucking them all into his long riding satchel before swinging it across his back. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said when he was finally toe to toe with her. “Are you- have you been waiting for me?” he asked hopefully, focusing intently on her face, taking his fill of her.

She stepped back trying to create some space when he cupped her jaw. “Yeah,” she smiled softly, keeping her eyes averted. “Can we talk for a few minutes? I won't be long, promise.”

Neteyam nodded, feeling a little a swoop of dread. “Ye-ah,” he replied, his voice cracking. 

He was beginning to hate that polite smile of hers. All he wanted was to see her light up the way she always did whenever she saw him. He wanted to lean in and hug her or even kiss her, but he refrained. 

He was also going to take more than a few goddamn minutes thank you very much. This sudden awkward thing they had going on was going to drive him insane- it needed to end.

Before he could lead them somewhere more private however, a voice called out to him. 

“Nete!” Leati hurried over, having just landed. Slowing to a stop in front of them she touched his bicep. “Where are you going? There are still a few more routines to run through. My team is gearing up right now, I already called for the direhorses to be escorted ov-”

She abruptly stopped, just noticing who he was with. She side eyed Xilä, then continued to relay to Neteyam all the drills he would miss as she turned her back so that she stood between the two of them, blocking Xi from Neteyam’s view.  

Xilä stepped back and looked away uncomfortably, she didn’t want to see them together. She was on a mission to end things between her and Neteyam- she just wanted to get it done and over with but she refused to stick around and have them rubbed in her face. 

She had had a good cry fest yesterday- getting everything out of her system, as Salveen hugged and soothed her while desperately trying to figure out what was wrong- Xi didn’t tell her though.

Later on, after assuring Salveen she was fine, the reluctant elder and her husband eventually left to spend time with their pregnant daughter and son in law. 

Xilä retired to her room until late when her friends started to arrive for game night. She had concluded the entire situation between her and Neteyam must have been one big misunderstanding on her part. 

The more she thought about it, the more the signs were all there. No wonder he kept saying they shouldn’t have been doing what they were doing. No wonder he kept stopping them from going further. 

She felt as if she missed something from D’avi's explanation about mating and relationships, but then remembered Neteyam was the son of the Olo'eyktan. The rules must have been different for him. She’d forgotten there were many customs she must not have been familiar with and deduced this must have been one of them.

If anything, she simply felt stupid. Leati was right- she had stupid silly hope that somehow she and Neteyam would end up together……forever- mated and bonded as one for life. But that was all it was- silly hope. A daydream. 

Yet it was all very real to her... Xilä was in love with him. 

The realisation had sent her into another round of bitter tears and as much as she loathed Leati, she couldn’t bring herself to continue to sneak around with her betrothed. She refused to be like some of the women who would blatantly sleep around with her father- knowing well he had a wife.

And so, Xilä decided she definitely needed to officially end things between her and Neteyam, and fast- not only because she was not a cheater but also to protect her own heart. 

Not wanting to stay any longer she said, “Um, Neteyam we can talk later, I’ve got-,” but she was cut off when he quickly side stepped Leati and reached out to take hold of her hand- preventing her from leaving with a fleeting panicked and pleading expression across his face. 

“Yeah I know all that Leati,” he said, turning serious as he faced the female warrior again. “But something important has come up. Why don’t you guys break for lunch and I’ll page Gwuyle to finish the rest of the session for me.”

He should have done that in the first place and gone after Xilä first thing that morning. 

Xi frowned, staring up at him. She wasn’t sure if he was even aware of his actions because not only was he holding her hand, but when she tried to pull away, his tail wrapped around her thigh.  

Leati made a strangled noise and blinked disbelievingly. Her eyes darted from Neteyam who was suddenly paging Gwuyle right then and there through his comm device, to their linked hands, to his tail curled high around Xi’s upper thigh- its tip, completely hidden under her skirt. 

Xilä, who had somehow momentarily gone mute, yanked her hand from his grasp, wide eyes on a murderous looking Leati. ‘Oh shit,’ she thought, swallowing guiltily.

However- Neteyam, who seemed oblivious to the tension and reactions of the two women- only because he was still on the line with the clan’s second in command, simply tugged Xi closer with an arm around her waist, so that her front clashed flush against his side.

She stumbled and clung to his warrior belt for balance, cheeks purpling from his actions. 

She was stuck. Immovable by his hold. To anyone looking their way, they were the picturesque image of a romantic couple.

Accepting defeat, Xi slumped against him, smushing her face into the space between his pec and bicep. He seemed to have taken that action as her being affectionate, because as he wrapped up the call he pressed a casual kiss to the top of her head. 

Misreading Leati’s muted, shocked expression, Neteyam continued on as usual. “Relax Leati. Gwuyle is just as good a reviewer, you’ll be in good hands for your team’s evaluation. Have some lunch and have your team check in after.”

Leati sputtered pathetically. “I- what..but, but it’s not even lunch yet! Nete can’t you-” she stepped forward to caress his free arm but Neteyam cut her off with an exasperated sigh.

“Then have an early lunch, Leati, run a practice drill or something. Anyone else would gladly take advantage of extra time before an appraisal- Oh great, the direhorses are here.” He whistled to his own amongst the herd being guided over by a group of wranglers. 

“Nete, please stay,” Leati pleaded. “What is so important anyway?!” she snapped, glaring at the back of Xilä’s head unnoticed.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said distractedly as he watched Antoyle approach. 

Neteyam’s massive direhorse chuffed in greeting. A small squeal escaped Xi when she was suddenly hauled up onto the massive beast- Neteyam keeping a large palm on her thigh to keep her steady. 

“I’ve gotta go Leati, good luck, alright?” he said, giving her a parting smile before easily mounting the creature behind Xi and securing an arm around her once more.

Xilä caught one last withering glare from the female warrior before Neteyam was charging them off. 

~

Riding hard and fast, Neteyam led them deep into the forest. He knew it was petty and probably overly possessive of him, but he was purposely taking them somewhere far. Not only for privacy, but also so that she couldn’t escape without his help to get back. 

Passing through a thick wall of vines, they found themselves in what Xilä could only describe as a hidden cocoon of serenity. 

A small tricking waterfall flowed in the far corner, pooling in a somewhat shallow well of rocks. The flora was thick and abundant.

Glowing plants illuminated the sunless hideaway, creating a serene and romantic atmosphere. 

“What is this place,” Xi asked, momentarily distracted by its beauty.  

“It is niwan loreyu, one of the many beautiful secrets of the forest,” he said over her head as he pulled them to a stop. “Very few know of its existence,” he continued as he dismounted and disconnected his queue. 

“I feel…” she couldn’t quite explain the feeling but it felt good- as if she were being hugged lovingly.  

“It is Ewya you feel,” he explained, while removing his comm device to stuff into his bag- he didn’t want any interruptions. He then tossed his satchel to the soft flooring. “Her presence resides heavily in this place.” 

“Did we really need to come all the way out here?” she grumbled as she accepted his help to get down- legs aching slightly from the long trip. Antoyle trotted off to graze on a patch of rich grass. 

“Yes,” he grinned, tugging her hips closer, relishing in the feeling of her finally in his arms. 

“You didn’t need to leave your duti-”

“I wanted to,” he said earnestly. “God, I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks,” he groaned, nuzzling his face into her cheek, affectionately. He froze when she suddenly tensed up. 

She swallowed as a guilty flutter emitted within her. “You shouldn’t have done all of that,” she whispered, stepping out of his arms as she avoided his stare. 

“Done what?” he asked, allowing her to go but itching to pull her back. 

“Leaving with me…holding my hand- the tail thing, the touching- all of it! Especially in front of her.” 

He frowned at her with a tilt of his head but stayed silent. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered more to herself than him. Squaring herself she faced him head on. “We need to stop, Neteyam.”

There was a small tightening in his chest at her words. He knew what she meant but asked anyway. “Stop what?”

She didn’t exactly know how to label it. “What we’ve been doing…you and I…everything we’ve been doing for the past-”

“No.”

Her jaw dropped. “What do you mean, no?!”

“I don’t want to,” he said simply.

“Neteyam, the sneaking around- it has to stop.”

“Then we will stop sneaking around. We will stop hiding. I know we never talked about it, but we can do that. We don’t have to remain a secret if that is what’s bothering you. Sweetheart, I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve been hiding you,” he said sincerely. 

She stared at him incredulously. “You want us to go public?! We can’t do that, what will-”

His ears fell back. “What’s so wrong about that?” he snapped.

“Neteyam,” she said, sounding so broken he felt a small part of him crack. “I don’t think you’re thinking clearly.” She rubbed the heel of her palms into her eyes. “Shit. Why is this so hard to do? I can’t stop thinking about you and all those stupid orgasms and now we have to sto-”

“You didn’t didn’t like the orgasms?!” he asked, alarmed- ears twitched high as his tail went limp. 

“No! Yes! Yes, okay! I liked it, I wanted it, I mean I practically begged for it didn’t I?” she shrieked somewhat hysterically. “But that’s not the point,” she said in frustration. “That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m telling you we need to end this!”

“Why?” 

“What?”

“Why? Tell me why? Why do you want to stop? Give me one good reason and then we’ll end things.”

Her face scrunched up in hurt. “Because I like you...much more than I should, but I know the truth now and I don’t want to come between the two of you…I-” She faltered and took a shuddering breath. 

Neteyam’s frown deepened- clearly not understanding. “Xilä what are you talking about?” 

“You don’t need to pretend anymore!” she snapped, folding her arms in vulnerability. “What I don’t get is why you didn’t tell me! I get that it’s supposed to be this big secret until you decide to announce it but- gosh Neteyam I feel like such a fool!” 

“Xilä,” he said seriously, staring at her in great concern. If anything he was looking at her like she’d gone and lost her mind. 

But she misunderstood his worry. “It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I’ll keep it a secret…‘Teyam, you’re my friend and I want us to stay that way even after- I don’t want to mess this up and I’m not blaming you…but I really don’t get why you didn’t say anything.”

When she noticed his clueless expression she mumbled out, “I know about you and Leati. She told me.”

He raised a questioning brow. “Me and Leati, what? Baby I don’t understand anything you’re saying right now. I honestly feel as if we’re speaking two completely different languages.” 

“Neteyam,” she said in a shaky voice, eyes pooling with liquid. “Why didn’t you tell me you were betrothed?” 

A beat of silence filled the air. 

“What?” he breathed out, incomprehensibly. 

Filling the sudden silence, she began to ramble as she fidgeted with her fingers. “Well I know it’s technically none of my business but well I thought maybe that’s something friends share with each other. Especially friends who did the amount of kissing and touching we did.” 

Shaking out of his reverie, Neteyam closed the distance between them, halting her movements by loosely linking his fingers with hers. 

Tilting her chin up he said very seriously, “Xilä…I am not betrothed.”

“But- yes you are.”

“Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure I’d know if I was intended to be bonded for life with someone,” he said intently. “Who the hell did you hear that shit from?” he demanded. 

“Well from Leati. She- I…” Xi spluttered, not meeting his gaze. “She said you two were…since months ago! Before you and I. You don’t just make that stuff up! You don’t lie about things like that! Why would she-”

Neteyam muttered a, “goddammit Leati,” under his breath as he tugged her closer so there was no space left between them. “Eyes, Xilä.”  

She knew the drill and looked up immediately. Her chest pressed against his upper abs so she had to arch her spine slightly to see his face properly. 

“So let's just go over this, shall we? Clear the air so that we’re on the same page.” 

She nodded, trying hard to focus on his stern voice and contain the flutters swooping around in her tummy from their proximity. Neteyam however looked like he was fighting to reign in his annoyance. 

“Xilä, I am not betrothed to Leati. I am not betrothed to anyone. Alright?” 

“But-”

“When did she tell you that?” 

“Yesterday.”

“Mm. That why you avoided me all of last night?” he asked, irritated.

A guilty expression appeared on her face. “Yes.”

All of the pieces were finally coming together now. Neteyam released a heavy sigh, nodding in understanding. He cupped her face and pressed a quick peck on her forehead.

“Come’re.” He hoisted her up the way he always did and her arms and thighs automatically wrapped around him. He couldn't deal with the distance between them anymore.

In short strides, he stepped into the rippling pool and took a seat, slumping against the rocky wall as he adjusted them into a comfortable position. The water was warm in comparison to the cool air but felt good, relaxing her slightly sore legs.  

Straddling his lap, the water covered her from her waist down. Her skirt fluttered around her hips, before sinking as it became soaked. His knees jutted out of the clear water when he propped them up, causing her to slide forward which made her core land flush against the skin just above his loincloth.

A large palm slid up her back, arching her towards him while his other soothed along her thigh. “Can I have a kiss? Please?” he pleaded- one small taste was all he needed. 

Xilä felt a bit emotional but held it in. Shaking her head up and down eagerly, she cupped his jaw, and with a soft, “yes,” she kissed him. 

The kiss was fleeting but it was very much needed in the current situation. Neteyam broke them apart with a final one, two, three sweet pecks before he was pulling back to see her face. 

“So we need to talk. There are some things you need to know, Xi,” he said seriously. 

“Alright,” she nodded, bringing her hands together to fiddle with his battleband. 

“First of all, Leati-” He tsked. “I think she probably misinterpreted a particular situation- which I will tell you about now. I’ll be sure to speak with her and clear the air of course but this is all honestly one huge misunderstanding.” 

“Well I’m quite curious to know what it’s all about. She was very territorial over you.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I know how she can be sometimes.” He took a breath and rubbed her thighs under the water. “Xi, when I turned eighteen the council told me I was required to find a wife by twenty-one. They thought I’d take a woman already by then…but when I hadn’t, they decided to give me a deadline.” 

Xi’s brows rose high and her jaw loosened. “They can do that?! Why would they even do that to you?”

He shrugged. “Because they can. Apparently it’s a mandatory tradition to ensure and secure the line of leadership. I’m not even going to go on about the heir they also require,” he said with an eye roll. 

“Wait wait wait. They’re giving you a deadline for finding a mate AND they are telling you when to have a baby by?! That’s ridiculous!”

Neteyam held his laughter. Her upset reaction was too cute for him to handle. “Yeah…but I put my foot down about that one. Don’t worry, no babies to worry about right now.”

“Okay…uh, continue,” she said with a blush. 

“So I’ll be honest I didn’t really try all that hard to find someone. I was too focused on my position. My training and skills were my priority- the whole mate thing, as much as I agreed, it was a lot of pressure. So I ignored it for a long while.

By the time I was a couple months away from the deadline, the council decided to take matters into their own hands. The fucking rumour mill ran wild when it became public knowledge I was looking for a mate. Every eligible female was practically being shoved down my throat.”

Neteyam shook his head. “Anyway let’s just say I learned the hard way that not all women wanted me for me. Quite a few only cared about the fucking title and the perks that came with it.”

Xilä bit down an angry retort about said women, but stayed quiet instead, soothing her palms along his chest, comfortingly. 

“The council was pissed when still I had no one chosen by my twenty-first birthday. They were all so disappointed... but I knew this was my duty. I knew I had to follow through and do it anyway. So I begged my father to plead my case and get me three more years. It was granted but it came at a cost. If I didn’t find someone by then, they’d choose for me.”

Xi's angry protest was interrupted when Antoyle chuffed, annoyed by an insect flying around his snout.

“A couple months ago, Leati’s mother- Fe’ska suggested I take her daughter as my mate. That was all it was…a suggestion. Leati and I, we don’t run in the same circle but our mothers are friends, so we’ve known each other since childhood. But I could never and have never seen her in any romantic light,” he assured, staring directly into her eyes. 

“You remember the meeting I attended a while back? The one you said I was all prickly afterwards?” 

She nodded. 

“Not only did I get another warning that my time was running out, but they decided on Leati as their final choice if I don’t succeed....If I don’t find anyone by my birthday next month, I’ll end up with Leati. She and I never spoke about it…but her mother must have said something. So that’s the only reason I could think of her making such an assumption, which is ridiculous anyway you take it.”

“Wow,” Xi whispered, slightly overwhelmed by the information thrown her way. 

“Yeah, that’s it- all of it. That’s everything.”

He seemed worried as he tried to read her emotions. “I um, I just want you to know, I wasn’t hiding all of this from you, purposely. I’ve actually been trying to get some more time but- they’re not budging.”

“It’s okay I get it. I don’t get the entire situation though. Can’t your father do something? He is Olo'eyktan!” 

Neteyam shrugged. “He can, he’s offered to step in, but I already agreed when I was eighteen. There’s a binding contract and everthing, so I have to keep my word.” 

“What are you going to do, then?” she rasped, uneasiness sinking in her stomach. She hated the whole Leati as his mate, deal.  

He pursed his lips and stared at her in silence, thumb tapping on her skin. “It depends.”

Her brows furrowed. “On what?”

“You, baby.”  

Her ears flickered. “Me?” she squeaked.

“Earlier, you said you like me too much…is that still in effect after everything I just shared?” he asked hopefully. 

“Umm, well. Honestly, I may have downplayed it a bit,” she said sheepishly. “It is more…love, than like.”

Xilä held her breath as she watched his expression morph from apprehension to understanding, to pure giddiness. 

“You love me?” he said with the widest grin on his face she had ever seen as he leaned in while simultaneously tugging her forward. “As in, love love? In love with me?”

Xilä giggled at his teasing and sailed her hands up his body to grip his neck, thumbs stroking his skin. She bore a matching grin while he nuzzled her cheek, trailing along her face to rub their noses together. 

“That’s quite funny,” he said, “because guess what, sweetheart?”

“What?” she hushed against his lips, crinkling eyes boring into his. 

“I’m in love with you too.”

She knew it was coming, his teasing tone had said it all but yet she still felt that bubble of emotion surface. 

Neteyam’s face softened into a concerned frown. “Sweetheart. Xi what’s with the face?”

She choked on a laugh, shaking her head. “I’m okay. Sorry,” she smiled through teary eyes. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me anyway,” he said, kissing her scrunched up nose.

“I’ve never had anyone say those words to me before,” she admitted shyly. “It felt good, that's all.” 

“Fuck….” he whispered, in upset. He seriously loathed her parents more than anything at that moment. 

“Then I will make sure you hear those words every day for the rest of our lives, okay? Baby, I will try my hardest to make sure of it,” he promised sincerely. “I love you Xilä.” 

“I love you too Neteyam.”

~

“Can we stay here forever?” Xi sighed, in complete contentment. 

“If you want,” Neteyam agreed easily. 

He’d give her the damn universe if she wanted it. 

Xilä sucked the last of the sweet juice that coated her fingers, humming happily as she did. “Well that was delicious,” she said, tail sailing like it usually did whenever she ate something yummy.

They were still in their little hideaway. Seated side by side, they munched on some picked, ripe fruit as they dried off on the soft, sweet smelling grass. 

Neteyam’s legs were splayed and propped up, but he’d dragged and draped her both thighs over one of his. Xilä leaned her temple against his bicep and took his hand to play with his fingers on her lap.

“Will they have a problem with it? Well, with me?” she suddenly asked, feeling a bit insecure. 

“Who? The council?” he asked over a mouthful of fruit. 

“Sure, but more importantly your parents. I’m probably not who they were hoping you’d end up with,” she admitted.

He looked down at her with a crooked little smile. “My parents will probably understand more than anyone else. My father is from the stars, remember? Against all odds they fell in love and chose to be together. And as for the council….” he shrugged. “I don’t fucking care. You know why?” 

She shook her head. 

“Because I. Choose. You.” 

Beaming, she stretched up and used a hand to tug on his neck, begging to be kissed. He obliged eagerly, sweeping a tongue along her bottom lip so she’d open up for him. 

With a simple move, she was scooped into his lap. Her palms danced down his chest, fingernails grazing his nipples as she trailed her way to his bare midriff. He had taken off his belt and left it out to dry. 

“I always liked these,” she mumbled against his lips as she stroked his abs appreciatively. 

“Mmm, I know. I’d see you staring at them all the time whenever you thought I was distracted,” he smirked, chuckling when he heard her shocked gasp. 

Xi sat back. “You did?!” she shrieked, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. 

Neteyam licked his lips and plopped the last of his fruit into his mouth.

“Oh yeah,” he murmured, leaning back on one arm comfortably while the other reached up to pinch a pebbled nipple through her top. “These would get all showy, and your tail would flicker all eager like,” he teased. 

“Oof, I can’t believe I was so obvious!” she wailed, slapping a palm across her face in horror while he laughed out loud. She lightly smacked his chest in retaliation. 

“It was cute, baby,” he said, licking away a drop of juice that escaped him. Xilä stared as he tried and failed to catch it, so she leaned forward and licked the bead from the corner of his lip for him, sucking on the skin a bit. 

When she pulled away Neteyam smirked again. “You're quite a spicy little minx you know that?” 

She shifted in his lap and wiggled her little butt into him. Her eyes glinted, knowingly- a stark difference to her blushing disposition a few moments ago. 

He knew that look all too well by now. Sitting up, he pulled on the tie behind her back and instantly removed the strip of cloth from her chest. Eyes locked on hers, he tackled the tie on her hip next, pulling the slightly damp skirt off of her, flinging it to the side as well. 

“What do you want Xi?” he asked, reaching down to free her of the under cloth she usually wore. 

She knew the drill by now. Tongue or fingers. 

“Wait.” Gripping his wrist, she stopped him from tearing the poor flimsy cloth off of her. “You can’t keep doing that,” she said sternly with a hint of amusement. 

In quick succession, her nimble fingers undid the tiny knot and then she was finally bare to him. 

“I can always get you new ones made, you know?”

“Yeah? And how’s that going to look if you’re constantly requesting them from the seamstresses? What are they going to think?” 

Neteyam shrugged. “Probably that I am keeping my mate thoroughly satisfied?” 

“Your mate?” Xi asked, lighting up by the thrill of his words.

They had spoken about it not too long ago.

When he officially asked her to be his, she hadn't been able to contain her excitement. Xi had practically tackled him with slew of yeses and kisses. She was actually going to be his wife and would be forever grateful to the Great Mother for blessing her so abundantly.

Realizing what he said, Neteyam’s ears flickered backwrds and his cheeks tinged purple. Xi thought he was freaking cute whenever embarrassed.

“Sorry, I just- well you know what I meant…” he stuttered, rubbing at his temple bashfully. 

 Xilä’s smile was relentless. She loved the sound of those words coming from his lips. 

Having enough of the roles reversed and Xi’s giddiness at his embarrassment, he tossed a sudden curve ball at her. 

“I want you to ride my face.” 

Her smile slipped right off when she understood his meaning. “Uhhh, um. How will that work? Won’t I stifle you? How will you breathe?” she asked innocently. 

“I just won’t,” he teased, playing with her breasts as if they were his favourite toy. 

“You could die, Neteyam!” 

“And I will die a happy death,” he countered, lifting her to her knees so he could suck on the rounded flesh of her chest. 

All the while, poor Xilä was contemplating the logistics of his request. There was apparently a lot she still didn't know. D'avi had obviously not been able to educate her on everything, so she knew she’d have to learn and figure out the rest herself.

“Relax baby,” he said, seeing her concerned expression. “I’m teasing. I won’t die because I’ll have plenty of air. It's only my mouth you’ll be riding anyway. If you don’t like it we can stop. You don’t even have to do-”

“No, I want to do it!” she protested. “I want to try. Oh and um, I choose both by the way,” she said, realizing she’d never responded to what she wanted from him. “Tongue and fingers.”

Neteyam shook his head with a laugh. “Yes, Ms. Little Greedy Butt, as you wish. Now come here. You’ll get your tongue first,” he said, lifting her entirely as he laid back. 

Xi was in for another sore legged journey.

~

What a rollercoaster this one was! It was touch and go for a minute but so happy it was all cleared up.

Do you guys hear the wedding bells?!!!

I think Lo’ak was my favorite part though lol

Okay, so hadn’t planned on it, but please let me know if you want the rest of the spicy scene from the end or if it’s fine that way. I’ll add it to the next part if you do.

As always lemme know that you guys think :)

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

[melodic-haze]

☆ — DEMO TRACK: Lisa (GI) X parent!Reader

☆ — TYPE: Fluff, SFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader has a kid (who knows ab the origin yk what)

Asked a friend about what one of my first posts should be thank you for this cute ahh thought but like. Imagine Lisa finding out that you have a child. Maybe you had them from like a past connection or you adopted them a while back

Children are always a heavy topic to discuss, especially already existing children while you're getting back into the dating scene. Quite a few people unfortunately don't really like it, opting to move on to the next person instead 😞😞 but luckily the librarian isn't one of them!! In fact, she's actually happy to meet them and more!!!!

Moment you bring your child up for the first time, you see her eyes practically glow in the sort of quiet joy only ever exclusive for you, her and now your little one :3. While she isn't rushing to talk about your kid or completely buzzing about it since it's not in her nature to do so, she's asking you for little bits of information about them as she organises it in her mind palace

You see your purple-clad lover take a small sip of her tea (earl gray, one of her most favoured blends due to its soothing properties) as her eyes briefly darted over to the many books that lined the library aisles. This was practically her home, something of a personal safe space for the witch-like woman within Mondstadt's walls.

Her gaze moves back to focus on you with that softly inquiring shade of green, genuine interest and the curiosity of a scholar that hasn't dulled in all the years she had spent out of practice mixing together, "Does your child like to read? They seem quite intelligent, so such a trait wouldn't be so strange. Perhaps I could create some sort of list for recommendations later."

Or so she says, but you know that she has already started to format it in her mind.. despite the lack of an answer from you, haha. You let her mind wander for a bit in comfortable silence—for a woman that claims to be lazy, quite a few things do seem to go on in her head.

When she meets them, she doesn't immediately go to rush at them or anything. She's a soft and patient woman (when you don't piss her off LOL) so she'll take time with getting to know your kid personally WHILE using the info she got from you to have them warm up to her even more. If the kid seems amicable to getting to know her then she's beyond happy!!! But if they seem resistant then that's fine with her too; this woman will take her time in coaxing your kid out of their shell. If you ever usher the child to be less guarded around her, she'll tell you not to do that bc she wants them to open up in their own time

She's so attentive 😭😭😭 she's the type to leave little sticky notes here and there for both you and your kid and recommend things according to their likes and dislikes (even if neither of you have said anything about it)

Naps with your child would definitely be a thing too :((( you just see them cuddled up somewhere and you KNOW Lisa's definitely slacking off as per usual but you can't find it in yourself to wake them up :(

You notice the soft glow of the afternoon light passing through the windows highlighting the slumbering pair and you just can't help the quiet chuckle that passes through your lips. It would be quite rude to interrupt their time together, nevermind the fact that it'd be a waste to mess up the seemingly comfortable positions they were in—your lover had her arms wrapped around your child, the latter's mouth slightly agape from their deep sleep.

You make a move to leave the room before you hear a small groan, to which you turn to and find that Lisa's eyes had opened the slightest bit to stare at you.

She slowly lifts a hand in a low-effort attempt to reach out at you, "Join us, dear... We have more than enough space for three people."

Really, why would you say no to such a nice offer?

All in all, she's not an overwhelming soccer mom who would post everywhere about your child. Rather, she's the type to watch them with a proud smile before offering to celebrate privately with whatever they'd like, just the three of you :3

Oh, and don't mind her trying to get your kid into tea HAHA that's definitely somehing that'll happen, with Lisa often joking about how by the time they become an adult they'll want to be a tea connoisseur

God I love her so bad :(

[bunni0nbanhg]

|Older|

Genre: Fluff/Slow burn

TW:Cursing/Suggestive/Bl00d

Au:Non-idol/Vampire/Strangers to lovers

Additional info: Reader is Female and a human while Minho is a Vampire. Reader is visiting family during the holidays and encounters Minho throughout her stay an oddly amount of times. Stray Kids are a clan of Vampires. Mentions of Hyunlix.

Previous: Here Next: ->>

╚»★«╝

Ch.2

It’s been a few days since the bookstore incident and it’s your last day in town before you drive all the way back down to Seoul.

“Have you started packing yet?” Your mom asked you, busy making breakfast as you walked downstairs. “No, I still have the rest of the day to finish.” You replied, earning you a scowl.

“Ok, ok.” You raised your hands in mock surrender, making your way back upstairs to pack up what little things you have out. “What are you doing?”

Soomin said, peaking her head into the doorway of the guest room as you sat on the floor; trying to organize your clothes so they could all fit.

“Packing, why?” You answered briefly before she came over to sit next to you. “Umma is making breakfast though.” She yawned softly and that’s when you looked over at her.

She wore a white hoodie you bought for her for Christmas last year and a pair of black athletic shorts with fuzzy socks. He hair was in a messy bun and you could see the remnants of black from her mascara.

“You know how she is with time, she gets freaked out if everything isn’t hours ahead schedule.” You huffed and Soomin agreed with a small laugh. “Let’s go out and do something at least!” She smiled.

You cocked an eyebrow while tilting your head to the side. “Like what? You already dragged me to the ‘library’.” You snickered, using air quotes as she pouted at you.

“We still have your old skates~” she smirked, standing up quickly with crossed arms. “The ice rink should be open by lunch time, they moved it to the north side by the high school”. She explained and you deadpanned at her.

It had been awhile since you ice skated, and when you did try to find it at first it was only so you could see if it looked the same. Considering that it was torn down to be moved, it most definitely didn’t look the same.

“Come on! Just one last thing before you have to leave”. Soomin whined, pulling on your arm to stand up with her.

“Ok, ok!” You caved in, sighing as her eyes lit up. “Really!?” She smiled gleefully and you sighed once again before nodding. “Hurry up packing then!”

The ice rink definitely looked different, it was wayyy bigger now. The old one wasn’t even half the size of this, more like a quarter.

“See~” Soomin grinned, walking in next to you with her skates in one hand and yours in the other. “I don't know where they got the money from, but who cares.” Soomin shrugged her shoulders before giving you your skates.

You looked around in awe at the size of the rink and building as you followed behind her to where there was some benches so you could lace up your skates. "When did they move it?" You questioned, struggling a bit to slip on your right skate.

"2 years ago, I think." Soomin said, humming a bit before nodding. "Yeah, it was 2 years ago. I remember because that was the year we had the major snowstorm." You nodded as you listened to her, tying your right skate up before struggling again to put on your left skate.

"And when did you learn how to skate?" you asked, a teaisng smirk gracing your face as Soomin paused. "I haven't learned yet..." She mumbled and you placed a hand over the shell of your ear. "Hmm?" You asked, not quiet hearing her.

"I haven't learned yet.." She said a 2nd time, a bit louder and enough to hear her, but just to piss her off you hum again. "Sorry, what?" You grinned and she scowled at you. "I don't know how to skate yet!"

She yelled, throwing her arms up with annoyance and you only just laughed at her. "I heard you the 2nd time, don't worry." You snickered and she only huffed again.

You finished up with tying your skates and stood up slowly, she also stood up but in a snail pace with wobbly legs. You held your hands out for her and she immediately gripped onto your arms.

“Don’t you dare let go of me.” She said quickly, catching the grin growing on your face and you instantly rolled your eyes at her. “I’m not going to let go.”

You slowly walked backwards towards the ice rink, her eyes wide with fear as she shuffled her feet slowly.

Your feet met the ice rink and you slid backwards before having to abruptly stop as Soomin pulls you back. “Wait! I need a scooty!” She wailed. You sighed slightly.

“Go on and get it then, I’ll wait here.” You said and she whined at that. “But!” She started but stopped shortly with a grumble. “Fine, I’ll be back.” She pouted and slowly, like in an extremely slow pace, waddled away to the section where the skating buddies were.

As you waited patiently you couldn’t help but look around at your surroundings, noticing everything that was different from the last skating rink.

The support beams that instead of being 80’s neon are black, the old carpet that used to cover the entire floor other than the actual ice was gone too. Only a black rubbery tile there.

The light fixtures were big and round and there was many fake plants around the place.

It was a more homey and yet modern vibe to the place, it reminded you of how you are now.

You looked to your right, a few people skating by, including a little girl and a slightly taller boy. The little girl was helping the taller boy learning how to skate and it was the cutest sight you will ever see.

To your left, is a few more people skating this includes a few teenage couples fawning with each other. You were glad you weren’t in that stage anymore.

But if you were to look straight ahead, you’d see… Felix!?

No, that’d be too strange. Sure, it’s been a few days since you and your sister went to the bookstore but it was odd you were seeing him again.

This time he was skating next to a taller male, who even from far away you could tell he was gorgeous. He had long black hair, one side of his hair had a thick braid while the other side was just down and flowing.

It wasn’t incredibly long, only down to his shoulders but still pretty. They both wore bundled up sweaters and black pants, hand in hand as they seemed to be talking about something while simultaneously gliding with ease.

Soomin came back right then, her legs still shaky but she was little more confident with her skating buddy. “Are you sure you want to skate? When you were younger you used to just play in the arcade.” You asked, knowing that despite her wanting to learn, she wasn’t going to anytime soon.

“I would go play in the arcade… but, I don’t have enough money. I spent it all at the town square.” You sighed and took out your wallet. “How much are the cards?” If the arcade was the same as the one in the old roller rink then all you had to do was buy her an ‘all playing’ card and you don’t have to bye tokens.

“$25.59” she said quickly, flashing her teeth with a smile and holding out her hand. You deadpanned and handed her a 20, 5, and a dollar. “Knock yourself out.” You grumbled and she quickly sat down to take off her skates.

You made your way to the rink, stuffing your hands in your pockets to warm them up. As you breathed you could see your breath in the ice cold air, and without trying you catch the eyes of someone you least expected.

“Chan..?”

╚»★«╝

Taglist: - [🦋] @skzenthusiastt

🦋Want to be tagged for the next chapter? Message me to be added to my taglist!🦋

[idle-compy]

*JWCT SPOILERS BELOW*

extremely messy live reaction

watched ep 1 from the roblox thing and didn't live react so

ep 2:

BEN GET UR EYES ON THE ROAD

ben eating out of a boot what is wrong with him

this whole van scene is fucking hilarious

BEN BROOKLYNN MEMORIES?? ON A ROOFTOP???

gonna make me cry on ep 2 I see how it is

darius just being overall disgusted with bens lifestyle I'm drying

"benjamin if you don't pull over I'm jumping out of your moving van is that what you want"

"is your friend ok?" "no 🙂"

USING THEY THEM PRONOUNS AS A DEFAULT HELL YEAH

ben has brown eyes at 17 mins

the roadtrip vibes are immaculate once u get past all the conspiracy stuff

why are these 2 licorice fanatics I hate them sm (affectionate)

ep 3:

"that is not at all what Hay smells like. have you never been around Hay before?" I'm obsessed with the dialogue

SAMMY HAVING AN ESTRANGED RELATIONSHIP WITH HER PARWNTS HUH????

"why are we running? we do not have a good track record with running!"

BUMPY CHASIMG BUTTERFLIES MY BABYGITL

she still picks him up 😭😭

mantah corp island investigation hmmm..

"that destructive carnivore" DONT SPEAK ABOUT MY DAIGHTER LIKE THAT

ANOTHER BROOKLYNN MEMORY KILL ME NOW

is that the fuckimg pink jakcet

sammy holding thr box with no effort anf bens big ass almost dropping it

why is so much happening in Sammy's life I wanna give her a hug

"he's getting more than a mud pie! he's getting a knuckle sandwich!" "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

OH SHIT CARLS DEAD

now sammy has blue eyes wtf

damn that atrocitaptor really hates pies

SAMMY RUN GIRL

bumpy basically telling ben to leave omfg 💔

do his eyes ever stay on thr road

the hug 😭😭

THE BROOKLYNN CONSPIRACY BEGINS

MYSTERY WHISTLE PERSPN

Ep 4:

this eps called "brothers" time to cry

darius mocking ben I love him

"she's fine 😌" "I'm not fine!"

ben calling bumpy a "strokg independent woman" " strange thing to say but ok"

TWO BENJAMIMS??

BEN HAS A GIRLFRIEND NOOPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

fuxk this

"she lives in.. europe?" he met her on that fucking conspiracy site didn't he

THE ALLOSAURUS

ben u eat food out of a boot u cannot talk ab kenjis place like that

"were not exactly on speaking terms" WHEN ARE YOU EVER

did kenji fucking shrink why does he seem so small

HE SHUT THE DOOR ON DAROUS STOP

THE STICKERS 😭😭

"this is. really something kenj!"

THE FANILY PHOTO IM GONNA SOBBBB

oh good lord the tension

"that's where my dad lives" OH FUCK

"I think we should split up" "you and yaz?!" TJE DISTRESS IN HIS FACE

his hand on his heart for the rest of the conversation he would've been more hurt by a breakup then they wouldve omfg

sammy tickle attacking ben THE FACT THAT SHE KNEW IT WOUD WORK

kenji masterfully climbing while darius is fighting for his life trying to put the gear on

WHY ARE THEY FIGHTIJG ON A MOUTNAIN SIDE

KENJI DUMPED BROOKLYNN?? OMG??

ANOTHER MEMORY

"I can't be with you anymore if you're not going to be with me" 😭😭😭

OH HES CRYING

ope kenj I saw that smile

KENJI AGREED TO SEE HIS DAD THE ANGSSTSTTSTSTST

NOOO THEY GOT BUMPY

ep 5:

WHY IS SO KUCH HAPPENING AROUMD THIS SANDWICH

WHY IS IT EVEN IN THE ROAD LIKE THAT

"that bush looks like ben" what does that even mean darius

KENJI CALLIMG DARIUS' MOM EVERY WEEK HE LOVES HER SM

I love this relationship ben and sammy have they're acting sm like siblings

ANOTHER BENJAMIN

HE STILL EATS CAROB

ben and sammy being dino activists ik that's rihht

mr king dino they could beat ur ass

FUCK YOU DANIEL STOP LOOKIMG HAPPY

THIS MAN TRYING TO LOOK GUILTY STFU

"did you have brooklynn killed?" straight to the point ok

"worried what?? that I'd double cross ya??" WHAT WAS ON THAT STICKY NOTE

BEN PUTTING SAMMY AS A SUSPECT?? ID BE PISSED TOO

he can't say the right thing to save his life

DANIEL TEYING TO KEEP SECRETS I VATE HIM

"just never had a father around to practice with" YEAH YOU GET HIM KENJI

NAH WHATS HE GOT PLANNED

"yeah ok I'll get my violin" kenji ily

NAH DANIELS STILL A SNAKE DONT TRUST HIM KENJI

sammy and ben causing mass destruction without meaning too hold habits die hard ig

YEAH SAMMY BEAT THAT MAN

bens list of loyal and amazing friends:

1) bumpy

2) corndogs

3) his van

DINO KING IS SUSPICIOUS?????

4) sammy

"he's just so!" "graah?" "yes! yes! exactly"

THE BROTHERS ARE COMMUNICSTIJG YEAAAHH

oh God I hope kenji has a backstabbing plan with this agreement

"I won't let you control me anymore" YEAH KENJI WALK AWAY

NUH UH YOU DO NOT GET TO LOOK SAD DANIEL YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF

"there was something about her that was different. almost dangerous" I am taking everything be says with a grain of salt but things are getting so suspicious??

OH SHIT ANOTHER DEAD GUY

LET 👏 HIM 👏 DIE 👏

THE WHISTLE AGAIN

what in the goddamn green earth is that woman

daniel u may have saved kenji but I still don't like u

THEY KILLED DANIEL WE ALL CHEERED

she seems so robotic I'm terrified

now who is this

not him speaking Japanese 😭 he needs a hug so bad

ep 6:

YAZ I MISSED YOU

her ptsd is hurting her so much omfg

ANOTHER BROOKLYNN MEMORY

moment of respect for the outfit changes in the memories

brooklynn got yaz into dino immersion therapy 😭

these memories are killing me man am I allowed to stop cryjng

SAMMYS CONTACT PHOTO 🫶🫶

BEN LIKES ROCK MUSIC CALLED IT

WHATS HE DOIN THE BG

"we haven't really talked much lately" does ANYONR have a good relationship in this show

"It'll be good for you two to reconnect"

"yeah.. I hope so" IT WILL BE SAMMY IT HAS TO BE

the gfs are still healthy all it good all it well in the world

"no dinosaurs?" "judging by the look of that thing I'd say we have one now"

oh sammy really is treating her like a fragile flower

I already watched this scene in the released clip but bens scream is somehow even more funny

ben still callimg her fadoula I love their relationship

THE GIRLF ARE FIGHTIJG NO

"girlfriend?" "why does everyone act so surprised when insay that" bc u are gay

I feel so bad for all these people like imagine dinos get into the place ur promised they won't be

OH THAT AINT DPW OH SHIT OH FUCK

IVE BEEN WANTING TO SEE THE AFTERMATH OF THE VAN GOING OFF THE BRIDGE YEAH

off topic but I am obsessed with the end credit cards

ep 7

the ep is called "that night" I am in fear

oh that's the moment sammy saw how much yaz has grown calling it now

I feel so bad for kenji rn hes in so much pain :((

he's probably so conflicted rn. daniel only ever hurt him but he's all kenji knows as his dad

THE HUG THE HUG THE HUGGGGG

"I'd be dead if it wasn't for her!" what do you know mateo WHAT DO YOU KNOW

"it was there on purpose" AAAAAAHHHH I mean we knew but AAAAAAHHHHHHHH

HEY DONT DO THE HOPELESS MHSIC WHILE THEYRE TRAPPEDBIN THE VAN I DONT LIKE WHAT IT INDICATES

"I can't have the last thing I see be bens soggy van!"

YEE HAW THEY GOT OUT

MATEOS STORY WOO HOO TIME TO GET SOME GAPS FILLED IN AND SOME ANDWERS QUESTIONED

oh shoot did he accidentally help the bad guys

now why would he get out ofbthe truck in such suspicious circumstances

WE HAD TO SEE HER DIE FROM A DIFFERENT ANGLE ARE YOU KIDDING ME ?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

OH HE TOOK THE PHONE

THEY SWITCHED SCENES BEFORE WE COULD SEEBWHAT WAS ON THE PHONE AVAAAHAHAH

oh wow the wet hair animation is so much better omg

GIRLCEIEND MOMENT GIRLFRIEND MOMENT

"I guess we need each other huh" *makes out*

them having their moment while bens grieving his baby

"ciao cara mia" I hate him

BROOK HAD A SECRET HOUSE

kenjis night just keeps getting worse

bros been DYING to throw those phones

"oh I am so gonna haunt them from beyond the grave" never change yaz

where on earth are they gonna hide on that truck

mateo seemed like a decent guy hope all goes well for him

her apartment was cute asf ok brooklynn

DID YALL SEE THE MOTORCYCLE HELMETS ?????????????? YEAH BROOK U WERE THAT GIRL

kenji stop reminiscing ur gonna make me cry

THE BROS ARE BONDING THEYRE GETTING ALOMG

KENJI WHAT DO U SEE

darius putting all the pieces together is so rad bc I sure am not

A SUSPICIOUS BAG OF MONEY???? IN HER CLOSET??? BFOOK GIRL WHAT WERE U A PART OF

SHE WAS WPRKING WITH DANUEL SHE WAS WHAT WHAJAJDHSLAJHFJSLAJD

I hope she was doing it for an investigative purpose SHE BETTER HAVE BEEN

but why didn't Daniel bring it up HMmmmmm...

"or what else she was hiding from us" OH HES HURT HURT

darius driving the motorcycle instead of kenji I'm cackling

ep 8:

THEY HID WITH THE SEDATWD DINO ARE THEY INSANE

not the dino smacking rhe lips it doesn't have

now why is she gonna stand on the dino instead of getting bens giant self to look out the gap

the drop is gonna be how they reunite isn't it

kenji screaming bc of a spider he's so real

THEYRE BEINF BROTJERS YEAH WERE SO BACK BABY

oh so they're working for extra cash too hmm

oh this place actually looks nice

VIDEO MEMORIES IM GONNA SOB

I am sufficiently uncomfortable thanks for asking darius

the boys are fighting again JUST VET ALOMG PLEASE

darius misses her so much seeing a bird made him think of her 😭😭

lookimg at the dates on the voicemails it's been at least 3 months since she died

DARIUS IN BATHTUB I laughed this is supposed to be sad and I laughed

I sense something big coming I gotta walk around for a bit

"I was in love with brooklynn" OH FUCK OH SHITNOH AJAHDKLAQKHFLAKHFKLAL

now I REALLY have to walk around for bc WHAT

WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WJAT WJATBQKHRLAJFLAHSLALKFHAL AAAAHAAHAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

rewatched the scene and I am no more sane ab it

BEN THIEVING ABILITIES MAKING A COMEBACN HELL YEAH

NAH WHATD THEY DOBTO BUMPY THEY BETTER NOT HURT MY GIRL

"boo." Yaz ily

THE VIDEO THE VUDEO AAAAAAAAAAAA

"were brothers righr?" HE SAID IT HE SAID IT WE WIN

every single moment with these 2 is so painful how am I supposed to exist in these conditons

WHAT DID THEY DO TO BUMPY WHAT DID THEY DO TO HER

THE GFS SAY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️

THE DINOS JUST CHILLING INSTEAD OF STAMPEDING

YES QUEEN DINO U KILL THE MAN THAT TORTURED YOU

love the steggos just watching everything

yaz was smart with the lights u go girl

my heart is genuinely pounding for bumpy I am too attached to this fictional dinosaur

avocado costume?????? girls be fr

KENJI AND DARIUS ARE HERE TOO??

DARIUS IS GONNA FREE THAT BABY I KNOW HE IS

I hope the sino causes chaos later

"with me by your side, you kon climb anything too"

YEAH THE SINOS CAUSING CHAOS WOO HOO

"bumpy.. are you dying?" NUH UH BEN DONT SAY THAT NOPE

ALL THE CRYING SCENES THEY GOTTA STOP

kenji doing everything with graceful agility vs darius and his childlike experience

sammy kicking kenji TWICE now

TWO HUGS?? IN A ROW?? IM FED

the hugs are so much more natural in this series the animation improvement is insane

"creepy micro bangs'" that is a fantastic description kenji

THE ALLOSAURUS AGAIN

sammy being bumpys other parent 🫶

istg I'm already cryjng

if they kill bumpy idk what'll happen

bumpy is genuinely a part of their family they are completely falling apart rn

"move her tail!" IS SHE ABOUT TO LAY AN EHG

BUMPYS A MOM????!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!???@?!?!?!?!?!?!??

them passing the egg around like a baby in a hospital such a proud family

"wait what?" "don't think about it bud"

"ben! you're gonna be a grandpa!" glad they also see her as his daughter

NAH THE GUY I FORG9T THE NAME OFNIS EVIL

ep 10:

LAST EPUSOXE ALREADY??????

cabrera thats his name

YEAH SAMMY BEAT HIS ASS U GO GIRL

NAH FREAKY BOB LADYS BACK

she is genuinely somebhorror movie shitnor something

that scene was genuinely so intense I completely froze

EHOS DRIVING THE TRUCK

MATEO MY MAN I KNEW YOUNWERE GOOD

THE DINOSBARE GOING FREE BEAUTIFUL GEORGOUS THROWUNG BOUQUETS

obsessed with the shot of the t Rex in front ofbthe explosion hell yeag

"leave my girl alone!" SCREAM IT YAZ

DARIUS FREEING THE ALLOSAURUS I SMELL CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

WAS THAT BUMPYS EGG IN THAT CASE

about time this man died

creepy lady is actually super pretty I hate that she's evil and kinda insane

darius finally stopped blaming himself 😭

"my guy. you're still here?" "unfortunately yeah. you all get real vulnerable with each other. it's weird" I'm dying

FUCK DUXK A AKHDLAKWYAPAHHFLAHWLAK

BROOKLYNNNANNAMANANNN

OH MY GODBOHNMYNGOD SHES SYDNEY GUYS SHE FUCKIMG SYDNEY ITS FUCKIKG BROOKLYNN AKSHALAKQLLQKDJALJFL

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAJKALAFJAJ

[acowardinmordor]

Idle thoughts for the historical royalty au it turns out I want to read, but can’t be bothered to write.

This is a fairly young or small kingdom. Early Plantagenets but less established.

Steve’s mom is more in the category of Eleanor of Aquitaine. She’s off in her own lands trying to fix the mess that the King made. The King forbade her taking Steve with her and they both have other lovers. Steve’s mom had several failed pregnancies when he was young, and at least one or two siblings that died too young for him to really remember.

The King is fighting yet another push against Not-France. Has been gone for at least two years, will be gone at least one more. Left his advisors and council in place, and gave Steve very little authority. He’s basically Henry the first. Except he’s Richard

Most of the important Lords and families left the capital when the King did, either to go on campaign, or back to their own homes. The adults who remain are either greedy and manipulative or too low ranked to have another option. Lots of the children of families are left there as good faith

Nancy and Barb are the daughters of nobility, not known for their social standing. Carol and Tommy are trying very hard to get/stay in Steve’s favor so they can elevate their and their families’ status. Joyce got elevated to a role like a chatelaine because the prior died while the king was gone. Hopper is Captain of the Guard.

Magic exists if you ask the right person, but in any official sense or statement there is science, religion, and blasphemous rumors.

El is for sure somewhere in the changeling shade of things. But in the sense that she got stolen, lived with the Unseelie Court, and escaped. Because he is the reason I am in this fandom; El follows the sound of music and laughter and finds Eddie.

Eddie lives with his uncle, who was in the last war, took an arrow to the knee and can’t serve again. Does odd jobs and repairs things for people. Eddie is supposed to be apprenticing as a scribe, but hates writing down ledgers of how much the Lords spend and how much they tax. It’s doomed from the start. But, it means he’s the rare example of a poor kid in the city who can read and write. He makes spare money telling stories, writing down and using bits of histories and rumors he hears while apprenticing. And because he travels from the town up to the court, he’s also doing a bit of unofficial trade.

Lucas helps at the stables. Mike wants to be a knight, but was too young to go with the king to war. Younger kids went, but the Wheelers are just noblé enough that he didn’t. Only son privileges. Will was sick as a kid, so he’s seen as kind of a ‘what’s the point’ but he learned to read a little, then spent so long sick he taught himself more.

Dustin flits around the court and castle, bullying people into explaining things to him. He has learned many things, and is still a little genius, but his reading is kinda self taught so he can’t always say why he’s right beyond saying that he is. Claudia came with the Queens court but stayed after the Queen left again. She’s in a weird important-but-not-noble position. Steve adores her because she was around more than his mom.

Actually. Yeah. Dial up the magic a little. The King conquered the region and stomped out most of the hedge-witch type folks. Also pissed off some of the more powerful ones as they fled. But the big piece is that he broke A Thing™ that served to hold the worlds separate. That was a least 15 years ago. The leak is slow/irs been getting worse.

Lucas’s family isn’t nobility, but they’re wealthier than some of the nobles. He’s the personable son with a fondness for horses, racing, hunts, etc.

Max and family moved to Hawkins and something something, Max is now working at a smithy. It’s not what she should be doing, but she’s really good at it. Also: horseshoes gets us LuMax.

Maybe the Hargrove were noble, mayfields weren’t. Lord Hargrove went to war, Billy has been there too, and the second you look away from max she’s back to doing what she wants.

Murray is something like a hedgewitch.

The Russians become some of the conquered people, looking for an opportunity to reclaim and lacking that: a chance to fuck things up for Hawkins.

Creel is def a kid from wayyy long ago, who got conned by the fae, but spent so long there that he’s got magic of his own, and a love/hate with a humans.

[natriae]

chapter 9

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"Is he my dad…is that why you called him?" Isa asked in a small voice, like he was scared he'd be yelled at for asking such a question. Isa was smart. You knew that he already knew the answer to his question, but he wouldn't have come to the conclusion himself. Someone told him, and that someone was still making his way over even after seeing Ushijima's nasty face glaring at him. Ushijima was stoic and it was hard to tell his emotions, but if you riled him up enough his eyebrows would draw together and his jaw would clench, unable to hold in his anger.

The two adults looked down at the child in his mother's arms, and you quickly said no out of indistinct. On the other hand, Ushijima calmly answered yes. So he does know. Someone told him too, and you're sure you know exactly who. "Who told you that," you asked Isa, knowing damn well who the answer to the question was; however before the boy could respond, another deep voice answered.

"I did," Sakusa stated, now behind you but to the side. Instead of looking at you he watched Ushijima in nothing but disgust. His voice. You can add that to the list of contrast between him and Ushijima. Although both men were stoic and confident in their actions, Ushijima's rich voice would have a guilt to it if he knew he did something wrong. Sakusa however held no remorse for his actions.

Ushijima's voice sounded like a waterfall that lead into a mystical area of the woods. Cherry blossom flowers falling into the crystal lake, and the most pretty flowers surrounding it. Sakusa's voice now sounded like the broken rocks falling down the hill, and then plopping into the water. The water would drown out the rocks. It was clear. Ushijima would always drown out Sakusa in your mind. Be calm in the pain, and protect you from harm.

Ushijima left a kiss on Isamu's forehead and then yours. Handing you his keys, and telling you to go quickly to the black BMW. "What about you?" you asked, not wanting to be alone.

"i'll be there before you know it," he told you, there was something in that statement that held so much more than what was said. I will always be there for you. I should have told you that a long time ago, and I know I can't change the past, but the least I can do is make up for all the lost time. You turned back and walked to the fancy car that was parked in between two parking spots. Hazards on, uncaring to everyone around it. You unlocked the car and hopped into the passenger seat. Isa was still on your lap with his head now hiding in your neck. His sobs were still strong, and you hoped Ushijima would be quick. So much has happened in such little time, and can't slow down now. You adjusted your arms so that one would hold his back while the other massaged his scalp. Leaving small kisses on the side of his face making sure not to press too hard. Everything will be okay. Let your mom and dad keep you safe.

At the front of the park, once Ushijima noticed the two of you were in the car he looked back to see Sakusa still standing there shaking his head. "I told you to stay away from them," Sakusa yelled. His anger was obvious, and Ushijima knew exactly what to do to piss him off more. He wouldn't do anything terrible to him. He knew Sakusa was able to compose himself enough that he didn't lose his job.

"Yeah, but she called me, so clearly she doesn't want you. She'll never want you," Ushijima stated standing tall, "I got an offer to play in Poland," Ushijima continued.

"Why are you telling me this," Sakusa asked confused.

"because I make much smarter choices than you. In more ways than one," You know she'll come with me. You know she wants our son to be happy. You know she would want to have joint custody. You know she would move to Poland even if she doesn't want to be with me. You know damn well that she will not let you get within five feet of her. Sakusa's face said it all. Ushijima had gotten to him with only two sentences. Turning around, Ushijima began jogging over to his car ready to prove to not only his ex-girlfriend but to his son that he is the man he should be. He will take care of them, and dedicate his whole life to them if that's what it took. If he had to leave volleyball then he would.

Getting to the car he quickly turned over to you after quickly buckling in his seat belt. Your eyes were still watering, but watched him in worry. Years later he could still read your mind, and you could read his. He nodded his head once at you and watched the worry disappear. He drove quickly to the hospital, and before you knew it Isa was admitted to a room to treat his wounds. When you guys were getting out of the car Isa had reached out to Wakatoshi, and let him carry him into the hospital. It was clear how much that affected Wakatoshi. From the outside his face remind unmoving, but if you looked closely enough there was a small twitch in his eye that revealed the love and sadness he had towards his son. That was the first time he got to touch his son. His son was already ten, and he just finally got to touch him. The guilt was eating at you knowing what a big deal that is as a parent. You thought about when the nurse brought you your son. 19 years old. You were 19 years old holding the tiny human you created in your arms. Nothing could ever replace the joy you felt in the moment. Something clicked on a spiritual level when you felt your baby boy's small hands reach out to you, and now 10 years later Ushijima is experiencing that for the first time. You couldn't help but imagine a 20 year old Ushijima in that hospital room with you. Would he have cried? No, probably not.

While waiting outside the hospital room to see Isa you grabbed Ushjima's much larger hand.

"i'm sorry," you said in a small voice. Immediately the lump in your throat built up, not allowing you to continue talking. Your eyes shut trying to stop the tears, and soon enough you feel buff arms wrap around your body and pull you into an even stronger chest. He still smelled the same. Tears started to flow more at the revelation.

"don't apologize. You did what you thought was best," I don't blame you for taking my son away. Knowing how I treated you I would never want to inflict the same pain on our son. Let all your tears out. I'm here now, and I won't let you out of my sight. He lifted your head up and leaned down a bit for his nose to bump with yours. Yeah he definitely got taller, or maybe you shrunk. You let a small smile escape as the tears dropped down your cheeks. He would always do this when you were in highschool. Every panic attack or cry he would move your head so your noses were touching, and you could look in his eyes and see just how much he loves you. The moment didn't last seeing as the two of you were still in public. Your tears started to slow, and you remember that there was still blood covering yours and Isa's clothes.

"i should probably run back to the apartment and get us new clothes," you said looking at the blood covering your shirt.

"I'll do it," Ushijima stated, "you should stay here, for Isamu," he finished. You hesitated thinking about what his reaction would be seeing your sad apartment. He drives a god damn BMW for god's sake, but he made a good point. You nodded your head, and handed him your keys. You told him your address and he walked out of the hospital not before telling you he'll make it quick.

At the apartment Ushijima opens the door to see a small open plan. A kitchen on his right, and a small living room in front of him. The first thing he noticed was the lack of decorations. The complete opposite of the y/n he knew. Your bedroom was always full of some nicknacks, and pictures of the ones you love. Taking a few big steps he was already in the living room, and saw one singular photo of you and Isa. Isa was much smaller and had big glasses that made his eyes huge. He smiled at the picture. You were kissing Isa's cheek while he had a big smile at the camera. A small tear had fallen from Ushijima's eye, and he quickly wiped it away. Turning around, the only thing in the living room was a beat up couch and one small table. To his left there was a door that he was sure led into another room. Opening the door he saw another small, white room filled a little more with small MSBY toys that were clearly from a gachapon. On the ground there was a power rangers coloring book with only 3 crayons. They looked to be from a restaurant. In the middle of the room there was a beat up twin bed. There wasn't any light in the room other than the window. There was a small lamp that was hooked on the wall next to the bed. Ushijima imagined you sitting there reading a bedtime story to an even smaller Isamu. Turning he walked over to the dresser to find several different Sakusa merch displayed on the dresser. He quickly found the trash can and put each different thing in there. Once he was done he opened the drawer to find very limited items of clothing. He picked up a red t-shirt, and then opened another draw to pull out black athletic shorts. Once he was done in Isa's room he walked out and turned down the small hallway. There was a door on the side that opened to a small closet. It had one blanket on a shelf and one pillow on top of it. Below the blanket there was a rack with two winter coats. One larger, white one and a smaller, black one next to it. It only took him two steps to reach the end of the hall. He opened the door to find a bathroom. 'Where do you sleep' he thought, 'and where are your clothes'. He opened the bathroom closet to find your also limited number of clothing folded up on the shelf. Your clothing took one small shelf up. He made a mental note to take you on a shopping spree. While looking for a basic t-shirt he found a familiar purple shirt folded up and seemingly hidden. Pulling it out he saw the 'Men's XL' on the tag, and when he was unfolding it he saw the big 'Shiratorizawa Boy's Volleyball'. This was his shirt. He spent years looking for it, wondering where he could have misplaced it, but all of that time spent was a waste because you took it with you. He smiled at the shirt, and left the apartment to head back to the hospital.

Once he arrived he noticed you were now in the hospital room holding Isa's hand. He contemplated knocking on the door or just walking in. It was now an open fact that he was Isamu's father, but he was still technically an outsider. Choosing to knock in the door he waited until he saw you signal him in through the glass. Walking in he held the clothes in his hands waiting to hand them to you. You immediately eyed the purple shirt lying under the much smaller items of clothing. Oh, he found it. You stood up and walked over to the man grabbing the clothes. Your demeanor has become much more awkward. You didn't know how things would go now that Isamu knew that Ushijima was his father.

When you first walked into the hospital room. Isa was lying on the bed with an eye patch, and a large band-aid on the side of his face. He turned to you, but waited till you got closer because he still couldn't see well. Seeing that it was just you, panic flashed through Isa's eye and his first question was if Ushijima had left. You shook your head no and grabbed his hand.

"momma…you're not mad at me right," he asked, not looking at you.

"Of course not baby. I'm not mad at you at all," You said while brushing some of his hair out of his face. You guys had continued to make small conversation till Ushijima had knocked on the door.

Ushijima took notice of your awkwardness, and thought it would be best to leave. Nodding his head once at you he turned around to walk out the door. But the sweet voice of his baby boy stopped him.

"dad…" Isamu called out, looking at Ushijima. The small boy looked over at you to see your panicked face and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry i-i mean Mr. Ushijima," He said looking back down at his hospital gown.

Ushijima had turned towards the small boy and told him, "I don't deserve the title of dad yet, so let me work for it. Only if your mom is okay with that," At his last sentence he turned his head to you. He saw your face contort in thought and your mouth open slightly. Unable to believe everything that was going on.

Once your brain had caught up you had slowly nodded your head. "Good, now Isa, may I talk to your mom in private. I have somethings I need to apologize for," The little boy smiled and nodded his head once. Ushijima nodded his head once and began walking out of the hospital room into the hallway.

Your brain started lagging again seeing just how similar the two were. Seeing Isa jerk his head over to the door you quickly speed walked into the hallway. Ushijima had quickly gotten on his knees mid hallway and brought his body low to the ground to apologize. Still panicked, you looked around the hallway to see that yes Ushijima was in fact doing this in public, and everyone can see, and two, you brought such a large man to his knees. You decided you will take this as a small win.

"y/n, I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. If you give me the chance I promise I will be the best boyfriend. I want you to call me toshi. Hate me, please do. I deserve it, but please just let me prove to you I've changed. I will quit volleyball if that's what it takes. I've gone to therapy, and I've worked on my emotions more. Please," If he had lifted his head off the ground you would have seen his flushed face and the tears fall from his eyes. "There's so much I want to share with you and tell you. I want you to watch me grow, and I wanna watch you grow," Your heartbroke a little at his statements finally realizing just how much pain you caused him. That morning both of you remained with a missing piece in your hearts for 10 years, and if it wasn't for Isa you're sure you would have stayed stubborn and never heard his side of the story. "I spent years looking for you. I went to your parents house everyday for two years, but then Tendou told me I should move on... Did your parents not tell you?" He finally looked up and you could see his red eyes. All the emotions he had been holding in are finally being let out. Getting down on your knees too you grabbed his face, and explained to him that your parents cut off contact with you after they found out you were pregnant. They too didn't know where you were. You could tell there were too many thoughts going on in his head for him to handle, tears fell out of his eyes every few moments and he kept looking away from you. His deep voice no longer held confidence, but it was shaky. The fallen rocks had built up and began to block the water fall from flowing freely. "There were so many rumors about you, and I had to listen to so many people tell me such terrible things about you," finally looking into your eyes he said, "I'm sure you can guess who was the biggest one," his Adam's apple bobbed before he could continue. "So I convinced myself we never broke up, and the only one who fed into my delusions was Atsumu. He believed we would get back together," You hands tightened on his face so he had no option, but to look you in the eyes. You couldn't believe how much everything has destroyed him. Everyone successfully broke the one man you thought couldn't be broken. He looked like a kicked puppy. His big boba eyes stared into yours, and you could tell that he meant it. He doesn't lie. It goes against his morals. Leaning in you gave him a small peck on his lips.

"jima," he perked up at the name, and the little emotions inside your head went haywire, "i need to know, are you mad at me for not telling you about Isamu,"

He shook his head back and forth with your hands still holding it. "you did what you thought was best for your son, and that's all that matters to me,"

"our son," You corrected. He nodded his head once and brought his lips in to hide his small smile.

The two of you stood up and you wiped the remaining tears from his eyes. At that time the doctor had come over to tell you Isa could be discharged as soon as you paid the fees for the visit. Walking over to the desk the lady had told you the total for the visit and the stitches. You couldn't help but widen your eyes at the price. Ushijima took note of this and immediately stated that he would pay. Grabbing his hand before he could reach for his wallet you let out a soft no that you knew would be more than enough to convince him. Handing the lady your card, you bit your lip trying to think of a way you could pay your bills and not be thrown out of your apartment. "Miss, I'm sorry but your card declined. Do you have another," Taking it back you quickly grabbed your credit card for her to use. She swiped the card and immediately made a sorry expression. "this one won't work either. Usual credit cards don't work if you didn't pay for your last spending amount," Your bank had made accommodations knowing your situation, but it seemed they had enough. Embarrassed, you took the card back. He had already seen your apartment, but the last thing you need is your ex, or whatever he was now, to see just how poor you were. Ushijima quickly handed the lady his card. His black card. You had to quickly remind yourself that you will not become Ushijima's sugar baby. Even though it sounded so good. If possible another wave of embarrassment washed over yourself. He probably has never had to use food stamps before. Once the lady handed him his card back he grabbed your hand, and began to walk back to Isa's room. No words were spoken between you guys till you got back to the room.

"Isa and I should probably go home now," the little boy shuddered, probably thinking about how his room was decorated with stuff that would remind him of the man he was now scared off. Noticing this Ushijima was quickly reminded of how he threw most of the merch into the trash can but not all of it.

Without thinking, Ushijima asked, "Would you two like to come to my apartment? I have an extra room." Right away Isa perked up at this and started shouting 'please's at you.

Looking at Isa while he pleaded at you, you couldn't believe your day was just about to get longer.

" I guess so," you said quietly. In a much contrast to your voice the 10 year old boy let out a loud yes.

tags: @mineta-phobic @rukia-uchiha-98 @ssc7514 @megumuro

one more chapter guys 😭

[sponsoredbytonystark]

Here’s part one of the first Grandpa Bobby sorry, this one will come in parts and this first part is more Bobby and May centric.

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“When May finds out she’s pregnant she tells Bobby first because she’s not sure how Athena and Michael are going to react but she has no doubt about Bobby. And she’s right. He’s all, I love you, what can I do to help, this is exciting and scary, do you need anything, let me make you something to eat, do you need a blanket?”

Thanks for the prompt @mattoidmeerkat

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Step By Step: Pt. 1

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh. Shit.

Pacing the floor, May was sure that she was going to wear a hole in the bathroom; stopping abruptly she framed her hands against the side of the sink, letting out the long breath she had forgotten she was holding, watching as it moved her bangs slightly against her forehead.

A plan. She needed a plan. A doctor. She needed a doctor. Help. She needed help.

Her mom was going to freak, despite the leaps and bounds their relationship had made over the last few years, she was going to be pissed. Her dad was out, murder was never on the agenda for today. She loved David, but she felt like giving the poor man a heart attack this soon after the wedding wouldn’t have her winning any step-kid-of-the-year-awards. That left her with one option: Bobby.

Bobby had a plan for everything.

Picking up the tests and shoving them quickly in her purse May ran out of the bathroom, waving a quick goodbye to Josh and Maddie who were posted up outside the breakroom waiting for their shifts to start.

Her mind swarmed with thoughts as she made her way to the firehouse. Could she really do this? What was she going to tell Harry? What was she going to tell Darius? What was she going to tell anyone?

The ride to the station was a far shorter drive then she wished it was in that moment. Looking up at the building she couldn’t help but smile, despite what the world thought about her family, May had spent some of her favorite times in the firehouse. Most people didn’t know that it was her own hideaway during finals: she had a mostly quiet place to study, a minimum of five people who were ready to quiz her at any given moment, and a step dad who always made sure she had a hot meal.

She gets why everyone loves it here, because she does too.

“You’re going to love it here too.” she said as she looked down towards her flat stomach.

Her eyes went wide as she threw the door open; nope, that didn’t just happen.

May walked as calmly as she could as she entered the garage door, it was nearing 7 am, meaning A shift had come off call about forty-five minutes ago. She had heard Bobby sign off so she knew that the team should have mostly cleared out by now. She waved to a few of the B shift that she had met in passing before she walked up the stairs to the Captain’s office.

Breathing in slowly she knocked on the door, hearing a muffled “come in” as she let out the breath and pushed open the door.

“May! What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Despite the small concern in his voice at her surprise visit she couldn’t get past the excitement on his face when he saw her.

She wasn’t sure how to answer his questions; what was she doing here? Was everything okay?

She also couldn’t decide if it was best to just shove the tests at him and run or beg for forgiveness and ask him to protect her from her mother.

So she did what she had been wanting to do for what felt like hours, she cried, and once the tears started there was no stopping them.

Bobby was out of his seat and in front of her before she realized what was happening, “May I need you to talk to me, what’s wrong?” He was doing a visual search for injuries and she could see the wheels turning as he tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered to him between sobs as she brought her hands up to cover her face, “I’m so sorry”.

“Hey, hey, none of that, come here.” He replied back as he pulled her into a hug, letting her tears turn the navy of his LAFD polo black.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

When the tears had subsided enough that he felt comfortable pulling away, he reached over his desk and handed her tissues; allowing her to put herself back together before he started talking again.

“How do you feel about breakfast? There’s a great diner down the street, and I can be done here in about five minutes. I just need to sign off on Buck’s accident report.”

She couldn’t help the snort that came out at her stepfather’s comment. Her brother was a walking accident.

The diner was surprisingly empty for 8 a.m. on a Wednesday, so they chose the booth closest to the back before settling in. She wanted to look up at him, to meet his eye, but she knew she would spill as soon as she did.

“Well, hello, Captain,” instead May chose to look up at the waitress as she introduced herself.

“Good morning, Betty,”

“Now I know this isn’t your pretty little Sergeant,”

“No ma’am, this is my wonderful stepdaughter May.”

May could feel her insides churn at the praise. Was he still going to think she was wonderful? Was he still going to love her? She was currently glad that she didn’t have anything in her stomach, or she would have lost it right then.

“Well, aren’t you as pretty as your momma!”

Gulping down air, May managed a smile at the older lady. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Grape juice for my favorite fire captain, and what can I get for you?”

“Just an orange juice, please,” she was able to answer before the waitress walked away.

She was doing her best to avoid the conversation for as long as possible, “Grape juice?”

He chuckled as his eyes scanned the menu. “If I drink coffee after a shift, I’ll never get to sleep,” he replied.

She appreciated the bogus conversation more than he knew. Grape juice had been a staple in the Grant-Nash household since Bobby moved in. How many years ago had that been now?

She also knew that he didn’t need to study the menu. She was sure the crew ordered from here at least three times a week.

Before she could get to lost in her head, Betty returned and sat their drinks down in front of them. Her eyes locked with the orange in the glass, and she watched as the purple sloshed across the table as Bobby sat it down after taking a sip.

The smell hit her all at once, and before she knew it, she was out of the bench and making her way across the restaurant; where she found herself locked in the bathroom for the second time that morning.

She let her stomach settle, as she leaned against the door. It had been three hours, and she was already tired of all the running around and hiding, especially in bathrooms.

She was hiding from her mom and dad. She was hiding from her brothers, from Darius. At this point, she was hiding from a couple glasses of juice and a sweet old lady in a diner.

After she was sure that she wasn’t going to dry heave and taking what felt like the thousandth deep breath of the morning, May found herself sliding back into the booth.

She snaked her eyes up to take a chancing glance in Bobby’s direction, his own eyes still roaming the menu.

It all came out before she could stop it, “I’m sorry!” It was a loaded apology, and she wasn’t sure which thing she was apologizing for first.

She could sense his eyes on her before he asked, “Have you told your mom?”

She met his gaze softly before whispering, “I haven’t even told you.”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“I’m…I’m pregnant.”

“Humm,”

She looked up at him, and he chanced a look up at her. Their eyes meeting for a second, before she looked away.

She moved her mouth, but she couldn’t make the words come out. That was the first time she had said the words out loud, and all he had said was ‘humm.” She wasn’t quite sure what to do what that new information.

She hadn’t noticed before, but during her trip to the bathroom, he had exchanged their drinks. His strawberry milk sat closer to him on the side of the table, and what she assumed was a sprite now sat in front of her.

He picked up his menu and sat it on the edge of the table, before he looked up at her again. This time holding his gaze there, “what can I do to help?”

She could feel the tears flowing before she thought to stop them, and at this point, she had no more energy left to hold them in, “I don’t…I don’t know.”

The next thing she knew, he was out of his seat and sliding in the booth next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Shouldn’t she be done crying by now?

Again, her voice was only slightly above a whisper, “I don’t know what to do, dad.”

His hand stilled only slightly before continuing to rub circles on her shoulder, “why don’t we start with a doctor and maybe your mom?”

“Can we go in that order?”

She felt him chuckle against her and press a kiss to her forehead, “whatever you need, step by step.”

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If you have ideas or things you’d love to see feel free to send a message or an ask!

Also if you want me to start doing notification tags for this series let me know!

[my-castles-crumbling]

hi cas <3

cw/tws for medical stuff, complex family relationships, discussion of death

so, for context, im a regulus black kinnie (itll make sense, give me a sec aha). ive got a difficult relationship with most of my family, but most especially my mother and older sister. my sister is a lot like our family's sirius (except if he still had walburga's narcissism, cruelty and manipulation), and she really doesnt get along with either of our parents. my mother is... a difficult woman, in that she likes to victimise herself in every situation, shes homophobic/transphobic/all the phobics, shes also very narcissistic, and likes to make uncomfortable comments without bothering to be nice about it. all in all, i try not to be around her much. im also supposed to be moving out soon, and planned to minimise contact as much as possible once i do.

to the point: my mother was diagnosed with cancer yesterday. my father (hes kind of a neutral party in the family dynamics, btw) was the one talking to me about it, since she's in hospital at the moment. he said they caught it early enough where a bit of chemo over the next few months should get rid of it and she'll be okay, but 'cancer' is a scary as fuck word. he also then told me that this isnt her first time with it — she had a different type of cancer around 20 years ago.

honestly, i feel like my brain is battling itself about how i should feel. on the one hand, ive been looking forward to not having to be around her now for years, and i hold very little love for her at this point. why should i care? she'll be fine at the end of it anyway. but shes still my mum, yknow? and i feel awful having these thoughts about how badly ive always thought of her and how much ive wanted for so long to get away from her and how it almost feels like this is some sort of sick fucking joke from the universe about how i should be careful what i wish for or something.

this whole situation keeps making me think about regulus in best friends brother(? i think thats the right fic) or p much any modern au where walburga dies so tbh ill probably end up writing a fic about it to cope, but still i just... i guess i needed to tell someone? my father asked me to keep it to myself for now so that it wasnt spread around where we live (its a small area; everyone knows everyone).

and the bit with my sister - as i said, she doesnt get along with our parents. i dont talk to her much anymore either because she seemed to inherit a lot of our mothers worst traits, but im afraid that if we do talk about this then she'll have some awful thing to say about it. she makes some really dark 'jokes' sometimes about suicide and death and such, and im nervous that she'll say something about how she hopes it kills her (again, my sister fucking sick, and has zero empathy), because shes made similar jokes about other stuff in the past. i also dont think she'd understand that im still afraid for our mother even after everything shes done, and i hate the way my sister turns on me and rips the piss out of me when she doesnt like what i do.

it all kind of circles back to how im supposed to feel, i guess. part of me wants to not care and brush it off, whatever, but theres still part of me dying for my mothers love and approval and is terrified of losing her, even with the low possibility.

sorry this got so long, and for how heavy it is. i hope youre doing well cas, and thank you for all you do for us <3

Hi hon!

My god, you ARE a reg kinnie.

Here's the thing- there is not a RIGHT way to feel about those things. You have a complex relationship with your mom, so of course you'll have complex feelings about the situation. You don't need to feel guilty for feeling any certain way, because there's no right or wring way to process this. You're allowed to feel scared and neutral and confused and ambivalent. That's okay!

Your feelings aren't a betrayal to anyone, and you have a right to them. You also have a right to any action you choose to take. Remember to do what feels right for YOU, because YOU are important.

I'm here if you ever need to talk <3

Naming you reg kin anon.

[callsign-jinx]

A Rebel in my Soul [2023 ver.] | Ch.2 Call sign: Maverick

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!pilot!reader (Call sign: Rebel)

Word count: 5k

Warnings: swearing, brief mentions of death, Hangman being an asshole (again), Rooster being the best friend we all deserve (i think that needs a warning), start of the rebel protection squad.

A/N: you'll notice more changes in this part, things are already a bit different than in the og version hehehe

Tagging the usual people, if you want to be added, comment down below!

Masterlist

Making small talk doesn't make Maverick fade from your thoughts.

When you agreed to this mission, you never imagined that seeing your father again would turn out to be one of the worst parts of the detachment—worse even than dealing with Bag Man’s obnoxious antics. Speaking of which, there he is, strolling toward you like he owns the place.

“Rebel,” he says, sliding into the seat next to you. Bob and Fanboy, who had been chatting with you, exchange a glance, eyebrows arched in silent curiosity. You can practically feel their readiness to intervene the second they sense any discomfort from you around Hangman.

“Hangman.”

He smirks, not missing a beat. “You know we’re gonna have a problem with your boyfriend, right? He’s not cut out for whatever mission this is.”

Bob, looking utterly puzzled, tilts his head. “Your boyfriend’s here?” he asks innocently, scanning the area as if expecting to see a neon sign flashing over the supposed ‘boyfriend’s’ head that reads Rebel’s BF.

“He’s talking about Rooster, and no, he’s not my boyfriend,” you clarify, standing up from your chair and meeting Hangman’s gaze squarely. “Look, Seresin, you should be more worried about whether you’ll even make it onto the mission or if you’ll get sent home with a letter to your mom about how you screwed this up.”

You must’ve hit a nerve, because when he stands, his posture towering over you, his jaw clenches so hard it seems ready to snap. “Wanna talk about mothers? Where’s yours, Rebel?”

You don't flinch. “Don’t know, don’t care. Is it true, then?” You step forward, closing the gap between you. His breath washes over your skin. “Did you piss off Daddy so much that you can’t even see Mommy anymore?”

His eyes darken, and he leans in, his voice low and threatening. “Careful, little Maverick,” he murmurs in your ear, sending a shiver of disgust down your spine from his closeness. “You really don’t want to bring your dad into this, do you?”

Bob strides toward you, his hands coming up to gently but firmly grip your shoulders, pulling you a few steps away from Hangman and putting some much-needed distance between the two of you. You’ve never meant for your father’s identity to be a secret, but somehow it’s stayed under the radar—hidden in plain sight, really. And you’re not about to let anyone turn it into some kind of gossip. You’re fine keeping it that way.

But Hangman just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time, and that’s how he overheard you and Bradley talking about your dad. Rooster had made it clear to him—if anyone ever found out, Hangman would regret it in ways too terrible to imagine. And while Hangman can be a pain in the ass, you know he’s not stupid. He didn’t say a word. Not a single one. Hangman can be an asshole, but you have to give him something: he’s a man of his word.

That’s why his little threat doesn’t phase you. You know Hangman isn’t about to expose you like that.

“Are you okay?” Bob asks gently, his voice soft as he glances over at Fanboy, who’s now moving toward you as well, concern written across his face.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” you reply, offering a small smile, more out of gratitude than anything else. “Just some old bad blood.” You can’t help but feel a little warmth at their concern—especially from two people you’ve only just met a couple of hours ago. It’s a rare thing, and you know it’s the start of something good. These two are going to be good friends.

“Is it safe to say he’s the biggest asshole I’ve ever seen?” Fanboy mutters, handing you your drink with a knowing look.

You chuckle, raising your beer to your lips and taking a sip. “It’s also safe to say he’s the best pilot you’ve ever seen.”

“Funny,” Bob grins, raising your glass toward you as if offering a toast. “’Cause I heard the same about you, darling.”

“Who told you that?” you ask, a playful eyebrow raised.

“Phoenix,” he replies, the smile never leaving his face.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “She just loves me.”

“Also Rooster, and Coyote,” Fanboy adds with a sly grin.

“Coyote?” That takes you by surprise. You know Javy’s loyalty runs deep, so hearing that he thinks you're better than his best friend is… unexpected, to say the least. “Coyote said that?”

“Yeah, he said Jake can be his best friend, but he has to recognize talent when he sees it. He said it feels like you were born for this, even if you sometimes break the rules.”

You blink in surprise, a little taken aback by the praise.

"Okay, first of all," you say, raising your hand in protest, "I may not be the most by-the-book pilot, but that doesn’t mean I’m out here committing insubordination every second!”

Both Bob and Fanboy glance at each other, their expressions mirroring disbelief, like they’ve just seen a unicorn.

“Oh, come on!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “What have they told you?”

“Breaking the hard deck,” Mickey begins, ticking off the offenses on his fingers, “not returning to the carrier when you were supposed to, buzzing the tower after requesting a flyby that, from what I’ve heard, was denied, crazy maneuvers...”

“Okay, okay, we get it,” you cut in, rolling your eyes. “I’m living up to the name.”

“And you pulled 9Gs in an F-18.”

You sigh, the weight of that moment settling over you. The story’s grown more absurd with every retelling, but it’s stuck. It’s become your story now. You remember the exact moment: higher-ups had given you permission for those risky maneuvers at that insane speed because it was necessary for the mission. But no one sees it that way. To them, you’re just a rule-breaker, a speed junkie.

And who are you to correct their image? Let them think what they want. Sometimes, it’s easier that way.

Sometimes, it’s useful when people are a little afraid of you.

It doesn’t take long for Rooster to show up, casually claiming he’s tired and wants to leave. You’re pretty sure it’s less about exhaustion and more about wanting to escape Hangman’s insufferable presence. He knows he’ll have to deal with him again in the morning, and that’s probably enough to make him want out of here.

“Where are you staying?” Rooster asks as you walk toward your bike.

You tell him the address, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Wait, we’re roomies?”

He gives you a sideways glance, but before he can say anything, you tease, “Oh, dear. Another three weeks of hearing your snores.”

A smack to the back of your head follows. “I don’t snore. I breathe loudly,” he protests. 

“Sure, sure.” You pull the keys from your pocket and walk toward your yellow Honda bike, a grin tugging at your lips. “Follow me, I’ve been there before.”

“You still have this old thing?” Rooster asks, looking at the bike with an amused smirk.

“Of course, it’s like my baby.” You swing a leg over the seat and settle in. “So… I may or may not have some news that’ll ruin that good mood of yours.”

“… I have a feeling I’m not gonna like this.”

“Oh, Roos, you’re so not gonna like it.” You rev the engine, the sound filling the air as you give him a teasing glance over your shoulder.

“Know what? Don’t tell me today. I’ll find out on my own,” Rooster says, casually twirling the keys in his fingers, a mischievous grin on his face.

“You sure about that?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

He nods emphatically. “Positive.”

“Okay, then. Don’t blame me when you find out.”

You fire up the engine, the rumble of the bike a familiar comfort beneath you. You wait until Rooster gets into his Bronco, then pull out of the parking lot, leading the way to your house. It’s a place the base gave you for a few weeks while the mission’s underway—nothing fancy, but it gets the job done.

Once inside, Rooster flops onto the sofa, stretching out as if he owns the place. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in one of these,” he says, glancing around.

“Yeah, same here,” you agree, walking toward the hallway. “I thought the same when I stepped in this morning.”

You turn to him with a small grin. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna get out of this uniform. Your room’s the one on the left at the end of the hall.”

Rooster nods and heads back outside, probably to grab his gear from the Bronco. You can already feel the exhaustion creeping in, but you know tomorrow's going to be a long day—at least you have company for now.

There’s a tight feeling in the pit of your stomach, a nagging voice telling you to ignore Rooster’s words and just tell him about Maverick. If the roles were reversed, you know he wouldn’t hesitate to fill you in—if he’d seen Maverick first, he’d already have dragged you to him at the Hard Deck, shouting at Mav, demanding to know what the hell he was doing here when he should be anywhere but Top Gun.

You have to tell him. It’s the right thing to do.

But as you make your way to your room, guilt weighs heavily on your chest. You hate the idea of ruining Rooster’s happiness, especially when you know how much this means to him—being back with old friends, being chosen for a special team on a secret mission. He’s on cloud nine, feeling like everything’s falling into place again.

And then there’s you, the bearer of bad news, ready to shatter his peace with something neither of you can control. You didn’t ask for this, and neither did Rooster. But you know it’s a conversation that can’t wait. Not forever. Not when the past is staring you both in the face.

After changing into more comfortable clothes, you settle down next to Rooster, your body heavy with the weight of what you need to say. You glance up at the ceiling, counting to ten in your head, trying to prepare yourself. It doesn’t help.

It’s better to just rip the bandage off.

“Maverick’s here.”

Rooster’s eyes, which had been closed, snap open, and he shifts on the couch to face you. His expression freezes for a moment. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“I wish I was, Roos...” You take a deep breath, letting the words spill out, “He was at the bar. I don’t know how you didn’t see him.”

He shuffles closer on the sofa, his hand finding yours with a quiet urgency. “Did he talk to you? If he said something—”

You cut him off, squeezing his hand lightly. “No, he didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even look at him.” You let out a shaky breath, staring down at your joined hands. “He was the old guy who paid for the round, but he couldn’t even cover it, and Hangman and Payback tossed him out.”

Rooster’s jaw tightens as he processes the words. "For once, Hangman did something right," he mutters, his fingers tightening around yours. But there’s no mistaking the underlying tension in his voice.

You smile faintly, your eyes tracing Rooster’s hand as he holds yours. The moment Maverick betrayed both of you—pulling Rooster’s papers and attempting to do the same to you—you stopped thinking of him as a father. Blood doesn’t make family. Family is the one who stands beside you, who supports you through every hardship, who protects you when you’re vulnerable, and celebrates every victory, big and small.

The people you choose are your family, and you could never choose him.

Rooster’s voice breaks through your thoughts, laced with an edge of anger. “Why do you think he’s here?”

You exhale, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. "He’s gonna teach us," you say, your words heavy with the reality of the situation. "Phoenix was right—we’re the best of the best, and we need someone better than us to teach us something we don’t know already."

It feels like a punch in the gut. Maverick—the Maverick—is here to show you how to be better. And even though you know he’s a legend, the idea of him being the one to guide you feels like a slap in the face.

Rooster’s eyes narrow, his grip on your hand tightening. "That’s some bullshit."

You nod slowly, your gaze fixed on the floor. "Yeah, I know."

“What does he intend to teach us? To kill friends and pull your daughter’s papers?” Rooster’s voice cracks with frustration, his anger palpable.

You can feel the weight of his words, knowing how deeply Maverick’s past actions have scarred him. Rooster has every reason to be furious. You know what Maverick did to him—what he did to both of you.

But, despite everything, you’ve never believed Maverick was responsible for Goose’s death. You’ve read the case files. It was investigated thoroughly, and Maverick was cleared. The truth is there, even if Rooster refuses to see it. Still, it’s his pain, and you can’t take that away from him.

“I just want to finish this... and it hasn’t even begun yet,” you mutter, leaning back into the couch, trying to shake off the heaviness in the air.

“Feel ya,” Rooster sighs, rubbing his face before a sudden thought hits him. “Wait, are you telling me that Hangman kicked out his instructor from the Hard Deck?”

You raise your head, meeting his eyes with a mischievous grin. "I can't wait to see his face when he realizes tomorrow," you laugh, the tension easing for a moment as you both share the humor of the situation.

Rooster chuckles, shaking his head. He leans over to pull you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Everything will be okay, Reb. We’ve got each other."

You smile, letting the warmth of his words settle over you. It’s exactly what you needed to hear.

“Of course,” you reply, standing up from the couch with a stretch. “I’m gonna need a wingman when I get the team leader position.”

Rooster’s eyebrows shoot up in playful challenge. “Oh, so you’re already planning your promotion, huh?”

“Always thinking ahead,” you quip, heading toward the kitchen. "Just make sure you’re ready to back me up."

“Yeah, you need someone up there to stop your ass from time to time,” Rooster mocks, following you into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. The banter is comforting, familiar. You miss this—this.

Without thinking, you turn and pull him into a tight hug, resting your head against his chest. The warmth of his embrace feels like a balm for your frayed nerves. How much have you missed this big man? How much have you missed having someone you trust by your side, someone who gets you without needing explanations?

“We need to sleep,” you murmur against his chest. “We gotta work tomorrow.”

Rooster grumbles, but the sound is more out of habit than true reluctance. “I hope I get to kick that old man’s ass. Prove to him what I can do.”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, a quiet certainty in your gaze. “I’m sure you’ll have the chance.”

You're sitting next to Rooster in the briefing room, bouncing your leg up and down nervously. Every muscle in your body is tense, anticipating the moment Maverick walks in. The reality is sinking in—you’ll have to talk to him, address him as your superior, after everything. It feels like a sick joke.

"Reb, calm down," Rooster says, his voice low, trying to ease your nerves.

“Easy to say,” you hiss through gritted teeth, your leg bouncing faster.

Rooster’s hand lightly rests on your knee, a gentle reminder to breathe. But it's hard to focus when all you can think about is Maverick—his presence hanging in the room like an inevitable storm.

As if on cue, Hangman approaches the two of you with that cocky smirk of his plastered on his face. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms. “I see that you’re still joined at the hip.”

"Jealous, Hangman?" Rooster shoots back, not looking up from his phone, but the challenge in his voice is unmistakable.

“Of a rule-breaker and a slow rider? Yeah, sure,” Hangman sneers, giving you a once-over with an exaggerated sigh.

"What do you want, Bag Man?" you ask, standing up with a forced nonchalance, trying to shake off the unease gnawing at you.

“I just want to ask you two to behave,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Mostly you, Rebel. We don’t want to be ashamed in front of our teacher.”

You catch Rooster’s eyes from the corner of your vision, and his shoulders shake slightly as he tries to suppress a laugh, coughing into his hand. You bite down on your cheek to stop the laugh that bubbles up in your chest. The thought of Hangman’s smug face falling when Maverick walks in is almost too good to resist.

That stupid cocky smile of his is about to disappear. You can't wait to see it.

"Don’t worry, Hangman. I can assure you that I won’t be the reason you’re ashamed," you say, your tone laced with a bit of mischief, watching Hangman’s face twitch slightly.

Before he can respond, a familiar voice calls out.

“Morning, Rebel!”

“Mickey!” you exclaim, practically bouncing over to hug him. His warm, contagious smile makes you feel ten times calmer. There’s just something about being around Bob and Fanboy—something that feels like home in the middle of all this chaos.

“Ready to meet the instructor?” Mickey asks, fist-bumping Rooster, and pointedly ignoring Hangman’s presence, as if he doesn't even exist.

“Some of the people in this room know him already,” you add casually, casting a glance at Hangman. He tilts his head, his brows furrowing in confusion, as if trying to unravel the hidden meaning behind your words.

You’re about to elaborate when you spot Cyclone and Warlock making their way toward the briefing deck, their footsteps firm and purposeful.

“Cyclone is coming; go take your seats,” you say, sitting back down next to Rooster, your eyes following the two men as they pass. Hangman shoots you one last curious look before walking away with a shrug, clearly still processing your cryptic comment.

Rooster leans in, his voice a low whisper, filled with an edge of humor. “Wanna bet?”

"Sure." Rooster's voice is laced with a teasing edge, his eyes glinting with the anticipation of what’s to come.

"Five bucks say Maverick’s gonna tell us to forget the book," he adds, leaning in as if he already knows how this is going to play out.

You snort, shaking your head at him. “Roos, if you need five bucks, just say it. That’s obviously the reason they’ve called him in.” You pause, glancing around at the room, your smile wry. "But... it’s not bad to forget the book sometimes."

Rooster grins but doesn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the door. The energy in the room shifts, a hushed tension settling over everyone as the official part of the briefing begins.

"Attention on deck!" Warlock’s voice booms across the hangar.

Every aviator snaps to attention, standing up in perfect unison. The two senior officers—Cyclone and Warlock—enter the room, their presence commanding the space. Cyclone takes his position next to Hondo, while Warlock steps forward to introduce the man you’ve been dreading seeing all morning.

“Morning. Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated.” Warlock’s tone is as no-nonsense as ever, and you can feel the weight of the words settling over the room as everyone drops back into their seats.

"I’m Admiral Bates, NAWDC Commander. You’re all Top Gun graduates. The elite. The best of the best. That was yesterday," he continues, his words cutting through the air. You notice the immediate shift in the room as smiles start to fade, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Mickey turns to you, his eyebrows raised in silent question. You shrug, glancing back at the podium while listening to the rest of Bates’ speech.

"The enemy’s new fifth-generation fighter has leveled the playing field," Bates continues, his voice sharp and deliberate. "Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage. Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box."

The room goes silent. You can feel the collective tension building, everyone digesting the gravity of what he's saying.

“Half of you will make the cut,” Bates says, his eyes scanning the room, “One of you will be named the mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve.”

You exchange a quick glance with Rooster, the weight of the words hanging heavily between you. This isn’t going to be easy. It never was. And as much as you both want to prove yourselves, you know it’s a game of luck and skill now. The competition is real.

Hangman glances over at you and Rooster, that smug grin of his practically shouting, I’m going to be the team leader. You can feel his self-assurance radiating through the room. You’re tempted to roll your eyes, but instead, you take in the other pilots, sizing them up as your mind starts running through the possibilities.

When it comes down to it, there are only two real contenders for the position of team leader right now: Phoenix and Rooster. You know Rooster’s got the skill, but he tends to overthink things, especially when quick, on-the-fly decisions need to be made. That hesitation could cost him. It’s Phoenix’s time to shine, and you can already see her leading this mission with confidence and grace. She’s got the instincts and the decisiveness that will make her the best pick for the job.

Of course, if you’re being honest with yourself, your name should probably be added to that list. You’ve got the skill, no question. But your reputation? Not exactly spotless. You’ve been labeled a rule-breaker—unpredictable. Still, you’re here for a reason. You’ve earned your place, even if people tend to question the how and why behind it.

“Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real-world experience in every aspect of the mission you will be expected to master.”

The voice cuts through your thoughts like a blade. It’s Bates, continuing his speech, but the real impact of those words comes as a heavy pause fills the room. Rooster’s eyes meet yours, and there’s a subtle shift in the air between you—an understanding that neither of you has to say anything to know exactly who’s walking in behind you.

You can hear the footfalls, heavy and measured, growing closer. But you don’t turn around. There’s no point. Your body stiffens automatically, but you keep your gaze forward, refusing to give in to the familiar mix of anger and betrayal that’s creeping up inside you. You’ve got a job to do, and right now, you’re going to focus on anything but the man who’s about to walk into this room.

You look for something—anything—interesting in the room: the plaques on the wall, the jets lined up in the distance, the faces of your fellow pilots. Anything but him. You know exactly who’s behind you now. The unmistakable presence. The scent of leather. The heavy footsteps that only one person could make.

You sit up straighter, trying to keep your composure. You can’t let him see how much he still affects you.

And then, the moment you've been dreading for what feels like forever finally arrives. He steps into your line of sight.

Maverick.

Maverick stands there, his presence so commanding it almost feels like the air in the room has thickened. As Warlock finishes his introduction, there’s a strange silence that hangs in the space—like everyone’s holding their breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen. You can practically feel the weight of everyone’s gaze, but it’s Maverick’s eyes that sting the most.

“His exploits are legendary,” Warlock continues, almost carefully crafting the words as though not wanting to give Maverick too much credit but still acknowledging the impossible feats he’s pulled off—like that one time he almost got himself and everyone else killed by disregarding orders. And yet, somehow, it always worked out for him.

But you know the truth behind the legend. The truth that Rooster knows all too well. That same man who has had his moments of brilliance also made reckless, selfish decisions that ruined lives. The worst part is that he never seems to face the consequences for his actions.

"He's considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick."

There’s a collective shift in the room as the pilots look down or shift uncomfortably, especially Hangman and Payback, who exchange glances—one of those "maybe we shouldn’t have acted so cocky" moments. It’s a rare sight. You can tell it cuts them deep. The reality that Maverick is the real deal sinks in. No matter how much they pretend to be the best, they still can’t hold a candle to the legacy this man’s built, even if it was at the cost of everything and everyone around him.

“Good morning,” Maverick says, his voice firm, yet somehow holding an edge that’s both familiar and unsettling. He scans the room, making eye contact with several pilots before his gaze lands directly on Rooster. The smile on his face falters for just a second, and that subtle drop in expression doesn’t go unnoticed.

Rooster freezes, his body rigid. You can see the slight shift in his posture, the way his eyes flick to yours like a silent plea for support. His hand reaches under the table, and without thinking, you take it—clasping it tightly in yours. The tension in his hand tells you everything. He’s trying to hold it together, to act professional, but inside, it’s like a war raging in him. You feel the pulse of his heartbeat through your fingers, rapid, anxious.

“It’s okay,” you whisper softly, your voice barely audible to anyone else in the room. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, hoping he feels the strength in your touch, even though your heart’s pounding just as fast as his.

Rooster nods, but it’s a tight nod, as though he’s still unsure whether he can truly believe it. He turns his head back to face Maverick, keeping his expression neutral, just as he’s been trained. He has to, after all. Maverick is his superior now. And for all the history and the anger between them, Rooster knows he has no choice but to show respect.

You can feel your stomach twist at the thought. It should’ve been different. You shouldn’t be forced into this moment. This whole situation feels wrong in a way you can’t even put into words. But it doesn’t matter. The mission is bigger than the past. Bigger than you.

Maverick’s voice cuts through the silence in the hangar like a blade, the casual confidence he exudes making everything feel like it’s about to change in an instant. You watch as he holds up the massive F-18 NATOPS manual, its pages thick with regulations, guidelines, and every technical detail you’re supposed to memorize to be a top-tier pilot.

"The F-18 NATOPS," he says, flipping the book open briefly before slamming it shut with a soft thud. "It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I’m assuming you know the book inside and out.”

A few of the pilots nod in agreement, their eyes never leaving him. Hangman, as usual, can’t help but speak up, his voice laced with his usual arrogance. “I could’ve written the damn thing myself.” You can practically hear his smirk, and you roll your eyes, not bothering to comment. But Maverick’s response is swift and to the point.

He tosses the manual into a nearby bin with a casual flick of his wrist, and it lands with a soft thud on top of a pile of paperwork. The action alone feels like it’s symbolizing everything Maverick stands for—rules be damned, it’s results that matter.

"So does your enemy," he says, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of doubt. The message is clear: manuals and procedures aren’t going to save you when the heat is on. It’s instinct, skill, and the willingness to break the rules when necessary. That’s what makes a pilot great, and Maverick’s been living proof of it for decades.

Rooster leans toward you and mutters quietly, just enough for you to hear. "You owe me five bucks, Reb."

You can’t help the laugh that escapes, even if it’s a little forced. The truth is, you didn’t even need to bet. You knew what Maverick would do before he even stepped into the room. Rules don’t matter to him, and they never have.

Cyclone and Warlock exchange a glance, a silent communication passing between them. It’s clear that they’re already regretting bringing Maverick into this, but they have no choice now. He’s here, and they need him—whether they like it or not. The tension in the room thickens, especially as you can see a few of the pilots beginning to process the fact that they’ve just been thrown into something they weren’t expecting. This isn't some easy mission or a typical drill; Maverick isn’t here to play by the book, and that alone is making half of them uneasy.

You catch Phoenix’s eye across the room. She’s smiling, the kind of grin that speaks volumes, one that tells you she’s already on board with Maverick’s approach. Phoenix always had a thing for pilots who weren’t afraid to break a few rules if it meant getting the job done. That’s probably why she’s one of the few people who doesn’t seem to mind your own tendencies—your reputation as a “rule-breaker” doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest.

But as your gaze lingers on her, you’re reminded of the one thing you’ve been keeping a secret from her—and everyone else here. Phoenix has no idea that the man standing at the front of the room, with that self-assured, cocky smile on his face, is your father.

You’ve never told her. Hell, you’ve never told anyone.

You’re not sure why. Maybe because it feels too complicated, too messy to explain. Or maybe because you’re afraid of what it would mean if Phoenix knew. The thought of her finding out—that your estranged, reckless father is the one teaching them all—makes your stomach twist. She’s starting to respect him, admire him even, and you don’t know how to undo that. You’re not ready for her reaction. You don’t think you ever will be.

For now, the secret stays locked away. If you have your way, it’ll stay that way forever. You glance at Maverick again, who’s standing confidently with his arms crossed, waiting for everyone to absorb what he’s said. He might be a legend, but that doesn’t change the fact that he's also the man who betrayed you and Rooster both. The man who made a mess of everything.

The man you can’t call father.

And yet, there he is, leading this mission like nothing ever happened. And in some twisted way, you know that deep down, you’ll have to face him soon enough.

"But the enemy doesn't know your limits," Maverick says, his voice steady, cutting through the tension in the room. "I intend to find them, test them, and push beyond."

The weight of Maverick's gaze settles on you, and for a moment, it feels like the entire room fades away. You’re no longer in a hangar full of elite pilots; it’s just you and him, two people who never should’ve shared the same airspace again. You can feel his eyes on you, the intensity of his stare cutting deeper than it ever did before. You know what he’s thinking—he wants to test you. He wants to see if you live up to the reputation that’s been handed to you.

“Show me what you’re made of,” Maverick says, his voice dropping to a tone that holds both challenge and expectation.

You swallow hard, the muscles in your throat tight with the weight of everything that’s been left unsaid between you. There's no turning back now. The rest of the pilots around you can’t possibly understand the history between the two of you. They don’t know the man who pulled Rooster’s papers or the man who tried to destroy your career before it even had a chance to begin. The man who, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re still trying to come to terms with.

You shift in your seat, tension building in your chest. You can’t afford to show weakness, not here, not now. You’ve got too much on the line. You’re better than this. Better than him, even.

Rooster’s voice whispers low beside you, but there’s no doubt you can hear the concern in his words. “He’s gonna get someone killed.”

You lean toward him, trying to keep your own voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “Look at Cyclone,” you whisper back, your eyes flickering to the Admiral, whose expression is starting to harden with every passing second. “He’s regretting this already. I don’t think Maverick’s gonna last until the end, Roos.”

The thought gives you some comfort—this mess can’t last forever. But right now, the last thing you want is for Rooster to worry about you. You’ve got enough to deal with. You’re the one Maverick’s looking at, after all. You're the one he wants to break. But that’s not going to happen.

Maverick moves on, walking in front of the group now. His steps are measured, deliberate, and you can feel the air around you growing heavier with each word he speaks.

“Today we’ll start with what you only think you know. You show me what you’re made of.”

The words sink in. He’s not giving you the option to back down. There’s no way out. The mission has officially begun.

And then, that’s when it happens. His eyes lock onto yours, piercing through the crowd like he’s been waiting for this moment all along. It’s not just a glance; it’s a challenge. As if he’s daring you to show him just how good you really are. His presence is like a ghost haunting you, pulling memories from years ago, the sharp sting of betrayal still fresh in your mind. He’s trying to drag you back into the past, and all you want to do is keep flying forward.

But you know this isn’t the time for weakness, and despite everything that has happened between the two of you, the one thing that remains is the fact that you can fly.

And you’re going to prove it.

You're walking toward your aircraft, the weight of the helmet in your hand somehow heavier with each step. Every time you grip it, you can’t shake the thought that Maverick will be watching—judging—everything you do in the cockpit. The good, the bad. And worst of all, he'll call it out for the whole team to hear once the dogfight is over.

"I haven’t seen you up there in a while," Rooster says, nudging your arm with his. His smile is a little too relaxed, like he’s trying to keep you calm. "Chin up, Rebel. Mission’s a mission, remember?"

You turn to him, a little stunned. "Did you just quote Bag Man?"

Rooster's grin grows wider. "Don’t you dare tell him I agreed with him on anything," he says, voice low but still playful.

Before you can respond, Maverick's voice rings out. “Bradley. Y/N.”

You don’t even look back. You’re not interested in having any conversation with him. “Great,” you mutter under your breath, continuing to walk toward your F/A-18.

"Bradley. Y/N," Maverick repeats, his tone a little firmer now.

Rooster exhales deeply, a low, controlled breath. “Leave us alone,” he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.

Maverick doesn’t give up, though. “Lieutenants Bradshaw and Mitchell!” he calls, his voice sharper this time.

You stop in your tracks. When he uses your full name, it’s his way of trying to be casual, maybe trying to address the elephant in the room. But if he's using ranks, you know there’s no ignoring him. The last thing you want is to face Cyclone’s wrath for not showing respect to a superior officer. That’s Maverick’s game, not yours.

“Yes, sir,” you and Rooster respond in unison, turning back to face him.

Maverick takes a step closer, his eyes flicking between you two. “Let’s not do it like this.”

Rooster doesn’t hesitate. “You gonna wash us out?”

It’s the question that’s been lingering since the moment Maverick walked in. Will he be fair? Or will he do something else? You brace yourself, waiting for his answer.

“That’ll be up to you two, not me,” Maverick responds cryptically, stepping even closer.

You can’t stop yourself from speaking, the words spilling out with more venom than you intend. “It’s hilarious how this is up to us, but deciding what to do with our lives wasn’t.”

“Rebel...” Maverick starts, but you’re already done. You can’t listen to him, not now, not ever. You’ve heard enough.

“Are we dismissed?” Rooster cuts in, his tone final, not giving Maverick the chance to say another word.

Without waiting for Maverick to respond, you turn and walk away, feeling the eyes of Hangman and Phoenix on you. Great. Phoenix, of all people, could probably figure it out. She’s perceptive, and this whole charade with Maverick might give her the clues she needs. You push the thought away as Rooster follows you, his footsteps steady as you approach your aircraft.

Rooster grabs his helmet, looking at you. "Safe and sound, Rebel."

You meet his gaze, trying to hold on to the calm amidst the chaos. "Safe and sound, Roos."

You tap his helmet twice, the familiar gesture with Rooster a small comfort before he walks off, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

As you move towards your plane, Hangman’s smug smirk catches your attention. He saunters over, clearly enjoying this moment way too much. You inhale deeply, trying to calm the irritation already bubbling up.

“Let me guess," he says, his voice low enough that no one else can hear, "The only reason you’re here is because you’re a nepo baby.”

You shoot him a sideways glance, not bothering to hide the annoyance creeping into your expression. “You really love yourself, don’t you, Hangman?”

He shrugs, the smirk widening. “Just call it like I see it.”

You shake your head, stepping closer to your plane, the weight of his words annoying you more than it should. “Trust me, Bag Man,” you say with a cold edge, “He doesn’t want me here. Just like you don’t want to be here.”

“Are you sure about that?” Hangman raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering.

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Hangman, I told you once, and I’ll tell you again—because apparently, the only functioning brain cell you have isn’t in your brain. He can be my father, but he doesn’t know shit about me. We don’t have a good relationship, and he was as thrilled about me joining the Navy as your dad was about... well, anything to do with you.”

Hangman’s smirk falters for a second, and you catch the briefest flash of something darker in his eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, and he leans against your plane with that familiar cocky swagger.

“Show him how it’s done,” he says quietly, a slight sincerity behind his usual bravado.

You don’t respond, just nodding and climbing into your cockpit, sealing yourself in. If Maverick wants to see what you can do, you’ll show him just how much you can handle. The best of the best, no question. And if Hangman gets it, even just for a moment, maybe that's enough.

You nod, getting into your airplane, ready to prove to that old man that you’re better than him. If there’s something you and Hangman have in common, it's the amount of shit your fathers have made you go through. You don’t know all the details of Hangman’s family struggles, but you’ve heard enough to understand why he suddenly said those words to you. He knows what it feels like to have a father who doesn’t support you, one who makes it clear he’ll do whatever he can to shatter your chances of achieving your dreams.

People bond over shared pain, especially when it’s rooted in a childhood full of scars.

You tighten your helmet and press the necessary buttons to bring the plane to life. If Maverick wants to see what you’re made of, then you’ll show him exactly what that looks like. No holding back.

@xoxabs88xox

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@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@dempy

@elijahmikaelsonbitch

[peyton-warren]

Threat of Exile

Characters: Gender Neutral Reader, Captain Syverson

Pairings: None, I dont even think Reader likes Sy let alone "likes" him.

Fandoms: Sandcastle, Henry Cavill characters

Word count: 1234

Type: dystopian, survival, post apocalyptic.

Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. End of the world as we know it. Some use of guns, lock picks and horribly disrespectful hand gestures.

Summary: Reader is out on a supply run with Syverson.

Author's Note: not betaed. I admit I channeled my writing for The Walking Dead while working on this. But what else was I supposed to with the challenge of writing this for @the-slumberparty's Week One Game I Spy where i ended up with the Theme: Survival and the Setting: post apocalyptic? Bolded words are the ones supplied in the rules to the game. I managed to get all 3 in here.

Ask Box: Open

Masterlist

You were glad to be out doing something, happy that Spring had finally arrived and Winter had pissed off, at least for now. What you weren’t so pleased about was your partner on this trip.   You got why Syverson was who in your rag-tag bunch of survivors was in charge of supply runs.   But his on-point, nonsense, all the fucking time was wearing on you. You haven't seen any threats in months!   No strangers, no wandering groups of other survivors moving in to take potential supplies. You weren’t sure you were gonna be able to take another couple days of recon with him.  

You found yourself behind him, making faces at one of the other 2 person teams you were out with.  Janet and Tim tried to keep straight faces as Sy gave them nonverbal instructions with you mocking each of his movements in earnest.  With a growl and a pop of his neck, he turned back to you as the others headed towards the house next door to the one you were walking up to.  “Can you not do that shit while we are out in the world?  It’s barely tolerable when we are home-“ as if a recreated 18th century fort in the middle of a state park was any sort of home - “but out here, you need to cut the grab ass.”

You couldn’t stop the eye roll even if you wanted to, but you should have stopped the mocking salute.  “ Sir. Yes, Sir.”   

In a millisecond, you found yourself smashed against the wall beside the front door with a rather pissed off military officer in your face.  “I will leave your ass out here without a second thought if I think you are going to endanger us.” His arm was bent across your collarbone, painfully digging into you, a breath’s distance from your windpipe.   His steely blue eyes were frosty and unwavering as you tried to remember you needed to draw in air.  

“Got it,” you eek out in a soft voice.  

With a small emphatic amount of added pressure to your chest, Syverson dropped his arm and waved his hand at the front door.  “You’re up,” he muttered to you, stepping to the side and turning his attention to your surroundings.  

You had no idea that learning how to pick locks in college was going to come in handy in such a fashion, but you pulled your pick kit out of your cargo pants and selected the proper tools for the deadbolt on this door.  After a few fiddly moments, the lock gave way under your ministrations which you announced with a small exclamation of glee.  

You stepped away as Sy reached for the handle, turning it slowly as you swapped your tool kit for your side arm and flashlight.  This part you took as seriously as he did.  You never knew who or what was beyond lock doors, especially when you were scavaging for supplies.  When the world ended 14 months ago, people slipped back into their baser instincts, kill or be killed ruled the world more now than it ever did before.   

The two of you cleared the first floor with practiced ease.  The home appeared to be a basic suburban middle class home.  The family who lived here- mom, dad and 2 perfect children plus an adorable Labrador retriever if the photos on the walls were to be believed - seemed to have locked the door that last fateful day, going off to work and school, never to return again.  

Heading to the stairs to the next floor, rounding an end table holding a long dead bouquet of flowers, you found yourself praying for the family as you often did while clearing homes on supply runs.  You prayed they were ok, that they survived and if they did they were all as ok as they could be in this world.  

Following the broad back wrapped in sweaty, dirty cotton, you were able to clear the rooms on the second floor quickly.   Dropping his long arm to his side, Sy nodded to you, even though you already knew the drill.  “See what’s of use up here, I’m gonna have a look downstairs.”  

Sliding the hand gun into the holster on your hip, you pulled a zippered tote bag from your backpack as he headed to his own assignment.  You made quick work of the kids' bedrooms. Not much of value there.  You had so few kids in your group any more anyway, the illnesses taking most of them early on.   You swiped a pink bunny holding a red heart for Abby, the 16 year old that had basically become your little sister since the world ended.  

Heading to the master bedroom, you began rifling through dressers and closets, stuffing useful clothes into the bag in your hand, leaving the frills, lace and heels alone.  Pulling open a final drawer, you whistled low at the treasure trove of personal delights you had stumbled upon. None of the toys were probably of any use to you or the group back home, but you did stuff the arm and ankle leather cuffs into the bag along with their restraints and a couple pairs of well made handcuffs .  You were not thinking you needed them for anything more than keeping someone from hurting themselves or others, not for the original  intent of them. Though somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered what Syverson would think of them. You guessed he was likely just as uptight about that as he was about recon.  

Sweeping through the closet for needed clothes and other bits, you wandered back out into the bedroom.  Something shiny on top of the dresser next to the closet caught your eye. Money had long since been deemed useless by everyone you had come across, frivolous as anything else useless including jewelry.  Didn’t stop you from running your fingers over the delicate gold chain laid on the lace covered wooden top.  They paused over the tiny diamond pendant, barely a breath of a stone, but stunning nonetheless.  With only a hint of guilt the old you would have felt you swept it up and clasped it around your neck, tucking it under your shirt collars.  Patting it once, you reached for your backpack and the tote bag now filled past the zipper’s capacity.  

Quietly, you made your way downstairs to find Syverson carefully repacking the bag at his feet, tugging it closed.  “We good?” you asked before he could.  

With a nod and grunt, he stood to his full height, pulling the bag up to his bulky shoulder. With a jerk of his chin, he asks if you want him to take yours from you.  Your response is just a shake of yours, stubborn to let him help you.  God forbid he thought for two seconds you were not actually pulling your weight.  You’d be regulated to kitchen duties or some other monotonous task instead of never being allowed out of the palisades of your home. You’d rather choke on a rattlesnake than face that as your lot in life.  

Sy paused on the front porch, waiting for you to relock the deadbolt, re-securing the house on the off chance someone wouldn’t come along and bust down the door to get at the contents.  Syverson was an odd duck.  But you had to admit you were glad he was on your side.  

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