#i mean i would just like some acknowledgement at the very least
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I know ppl are yapping at you abt Dungeon Meshi so sorry but I’m joining in. Who in the Gaang (or Gaang-adjacent) do you think would enjoy the dungeon most and least? Sokka would be having a grand time, eating cool food and rescuing sisters and learning about biology and doing puzzles. I can imagine Aang on the other hand having a very bad time; even the plants are animalistic so he would feel weird about eating them. He would appreciate Senshi’s care for the ecosystem though.
idk why ppl keep saying that sokka would be laios.... like laios does say that he wishes he could take falin's place and clearly means it, but he also has the mental fortitude to step back and look at the situation more rationally when he needs to. he clearly loves falin a lot, but he's also able to pace himself and acknowledges not to push himself beyond his own limits, so that he can make grand sacrifices when the time calls for it (and even then, he pretty much knew that losing his leg wasn't gonna be permanent). like, my point is, if katara got fucking eaten by a dragon, sokka would not even bother going back up to the surface to the regroup. he would not be able to approach the situation rationally whatsoever. laios wants to take falin's place because he doesn't want to see her in pain (and also because i'm sure there's a part of him that just wishes that he could be a really cool monster too, lol), but sokka would want to take her place because he fundamentally believes that his role in life is to sacrifice himself for her?? and he would feel like he had failed in some grand, existential way if she sacrificed herself for him (but also, falin is not katara, and so katara wouldn't make those same sacrifices either). if sokka was in laios's shoes, he would be acting far more like toshiro, and we know this because "the boiling rock" exists. sokka is someone who is easily motivated by guilt, and feels guilty about basically everything. there's no way he would be enjoying his time in the dungeon if he felt that he had failed the one person he valued most in the world. he barely enjoys doing anything as it is.
that said, if he was simply in the dungeon for work and katara was there with him or safely on the surface or otherwise healthy and intact, yeah he'd probably like the hunting and puzzle solving and the learning about ecosystems. and since magic is something that can be taught, i'm sure he'd also be fascinated by the science behind it and learn as much magic as he can. aang would be fine food-wise because he'd simply pack enough food in advance, which is what most people do anyway. katara would love it because she loves going on any sort of quest-like adventure, and she loves getting to be the hero. she and aang are the resident healers, naturally. toph enjoys it because she likes hanging out with her friends and getting into weird little situations. suki is slashing up monsters with her katana but mainly she's just vibing. zuko is having a bad time unless he has a fixed goal, just like, in general, so he's only going in the dungeon (or anywhere) if he has a very specific reason. people see azula, mai, and ty lee in the dungeon and they're like "that party is way too small they won't last a day" and then they work as such a perfect and efficient team that everyone is just like "okay. i stand corrected." but anyway. if anyone is falin, it's yue.
#catgirl-behavioral-therapy#asks#synthesis#they would be nothing like laios's party lmfao they would maybe eat the chicken part of a basilisk and that's it
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spirit albarn has histrionic personality disorder, change my mind
i often see people ask what the hell is wrong with spirit, which is a great question. that guy's got issues. here's my take on explaining some of them!
notes: i have HPD myself so some of the evidence/examples i'll give will have personal anecdotes (although i've avoided projecting to the best of my ability for this post.) this is based mostly off the anime, as i have not finished the manga.
full post under the cut as it's ended up both very long and image heavy
one of the major traits of HPD is dramatic and exaggerated behavior/expression of emotion, which spirit displays nearly every time he's on screen. (typically in regards to either maka or his past and potential future romantic pursuits, we'll get to that later.)
this is typically played for comedy, but i don't think that discounts it as evidence at all-- kid's OCD is often used for jokes but that doesn't mean he doesn't have it.
these outbursts often involve very sudden shifts in his demeanor, and almost feel like an internal switch is being flipped on or off. this can make how he acts seem shallow at times, which is also characteristic of HPD. (emphasis on seem-- i do believe he's expressing his true emotions to the extent he feels them. the exaggerated self-expression of individuals with HPD is often tied to feeling those emotions far more intensely than the average person, at least for me.)
note how quickly he returns to a "resting" or "default" expression in the second gif here. he's kind of got a resting bitch face, honestly.
another defining trait of HPD is excessive flirtatious and sexual behavior, regardless of the person's attraction to whoever they're making advances on. i'll be using manga screenshots here since dialogue is important, but this is the symptom spirit shows most obviously by a long shot.
(not pictured: many, many more examples of this...)
he tends to flirt or otherwise get involved with women regardless of if the situation calls for it, and often to the detriment of his relationship with others.
the most blatant example of this detriment is his divorce with maka's mother and maka's subsequent dislike of him. no images provided since i presume you're familiar with that if you've gotten this far.
notably, he appears to feel guilty about this trait, yet does not or cannot curb it. one could easily read this as spirit needing the attention and approval from these women. excessive desire for these things (along with a more general need to feel liked or loved) is a major driving force behind other HPD-influenced behaviors and is a symptom in and of itself. while there is no concrete evidence behind this explanation for his provocative behavior, there is one person we know he desperately seeks approval from-- maka.
while nearly any parent would want for their child to love them, spirit wants for maka to merely pay any attention to him to a degree far beyond average.
in all of these examples, he's upset by her not even acknowledging him (or the thought of it) as opposed to hating him. the thought of her loving or admiring him appears to be a far-off fantasy to spirit, to the point of barely being able to handle it when she interacts with him positively:
...to the point of vomiting after this, which i won't show because that's gross.
maka is by far the person spirit's most shown to value the attention and approval of, but he still likely seeks it from others in more subtle ways. inversely, he reacts very strongly to both perceived and actual rejection, which is another HPD symptom. he assumes the worst when lord death calls for a meeting of all the death scythes, and is shocked when he finds out he assumed wrong.
people with HPD also tend to be gullible and easily influenced, which is most obvious in spirit's interactions with stein. he allegedly didn't catch on to the fact that stein was experimenting on him until his ex-wife pointed it out, as well many examples of stein just sort of fucking with him over the course of the series.
this could also just be that spirit's a dumbass, so take this part with a grain of salt.
that's everything that i can directly tie to HPD symptoms, but i'd also like to note that alcoholism is common in histrionics and they're at higher risk of divorce. as well as these manga screenshots of spirit being Just Like Me Fr as someone with HPD that i couldn't find anywhere else to put.
i hope this wasn't too clunky of a read and possibly gave the 5 spirit fans something to consider in their characterization of him! thank you for your time ^_^
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 253
Adjective: Remarkable
Noun: Soul
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Remarkable: worthy of attention, or striking
Soul: the spiritual or immaterial part of a human being or animal, regarded as immortal; a person's moral or emotional nature or sense of identity; emotional or intellectual energy or intensity, especially as revealed in a work of art or an artistic performance; African American culture or ethnic pride; soul music; the essence or embodiment of a specified quality; an individual person; a person regarded with affection or pity
#im late this time because ive been playing a lot of splatoon (it is splatfest right now after all)#speaking of which those close friends who hurt/betrayed me yesterday continued to do so today if not more so#so that was great and i love that for me#im hoping something changes tomorrow and i can get an explanation or an apology#i mean i would just like some acknowledgement at the very least#other than that id say my girlfriend and i had a great day together#anyhoo i love this prompt#it makes me think of the disney-pixar film entitled 'soul'#and how all of us matter and have significance and all of our lives matter and have significance#so thats probably going to be what i write about#thanks for reading#writing#writer#creative writing#writing prompt#writeblr#trying to be a writeblr at least
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okay i'm gonna say something and you all have to give me a chance. ready?
we need to stop making fun of poor american southerners who distrust the government. it's real easy to call them all conspiracy theorists and dismiss them, but half the time, its built off of a genuine feeling of being abandoned by the infrastructure meant to keep them safe.
in appalachia, a lot of people lost their homes because of coal mining operations. a lot of people worked in those mines, and then when the mines stopped being profitable, they got tossed out with the bathwater. a lot of appalachia is poor, malnourished, and i don't blame them for not trusting rich politicians who dismiss them as stupid and lower class.
if yall actually listened to half the things poor southerners say, you'd realize that a Lot of common leftist complaints are virtually identical to the rural grandma who doesn't hold with electronic money and politicians. it stems from a genuine feeling of abandonment and ostracization by the people who run the country. functionally, someone living paycheck to paycheck in the city in a tiny apartment has infinitely more in common with someone from rural appalachia than a politician. high rent, high taxes, food insecurity, feeling lied to by those in power, a general sense of frustration. it just sounds fancier coming from a city mouth than one with shitty teeth and a southern accent.
tl;dr stop dismissing southern people as stupid. they're absolutely right not to wholeheartedly trust politicians, because they've been fucked over by them time and time again, and honestly, id rather talk to a southern person who openly distrusts their representatives than someone from the city who wholeheartedly believes that Frederick Jamestown OldMoney III genuinely cares what people think and can be convinced to change his ways.
#appalachia#gettin real tired of this#hot take: southerners were right when they said never trust a politician theyre the devil#its easy to laugh but jesus christ are they wrong??#those in power rarely came to power through just means#there i rephrased it fancy will you listen now#jesus christ#some people genuinely were never taught the fancy words to make people pay attention so you have to pay attention anyway#please note that i didnt mention race because thats an intersection im not qualified to talk about and would very much like to hear about#but jesus christ. have you all considered that maybe. just maybe#southerners arent stupid. trump was fucked up and awful and a piece of shit#he won because he at least Appeared to be sympathetic#leftists so so rarely try to actually understand poor people they dont like and its gonna be what fucks this country over#edit: hey terfs reblogging this 👋#fuck right off unless youre prepared to include trans people in this statement#poor trans southerners exist!! i know an awful lot of them!!#im trans and southern and if you touch my post you acknowledge that trans people are breathing thinking people#with our own rational thoughts and opinions and live complex lives and face similar issues
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maybe i'm missing something here, but it always confuses me when i see things like "some autistic people are disabled by their autism and some aren't" or "not everyone sees their autism as a disability". because... autism very much is a disability?! if you're autistic, then your symptoms must be present in a way that is disabling to you in your everyday life. it's literally in the diagnostic criteria. of course the extent to and areas in which you're disabled can vary greatly depending on the individual, but disability is part of the basic definition of autism, regardless of your personal feelings on the matter.
don't get me wrong, it's still much better than "autism is only a disability because of capitalism" because at least it doesn't make sweeping generalisations that aren't even remotely accurate to the lived reality of most autistic people. but it still perpetuates incorrect assumptions under the guise of personal choice, and honestly feels like an attempt to distance autism from disability in general. being disabled is nothing to be ashamed of, and i wish people wouldn't twist the meaning of autism to remove disability from it.
(and yes, that goes for level 1/low support needs autistics as well. i would be considered level 1 (though i wasn't diagnosed that way) and i'm still disabled by my autism! not to the same extent as many other people, sure, but i'm still disabled. if i wasn't, i wouldn't be autistic.)
#autism#actually autistic#actuallyautistic#what the hell. i'll put this in the main tags#i just don't understand what personal feelings have to do with this. autism literally *is* a disability thats a fact#(okay obviously the diagnostic criteria were created by humans and humans are fallible etc.#but if we extend the definition of autism so far beyond its original meaning then would autism even be a useful term anymore?)#stuff like this always leaves a bad taste in my mouth because it reeks of internalised ableism#i dont want to tell anyone how to identify. but if youre insisting that your autism isnt a disability even though by its very definition#it is - idk ive been in a similar position in my teens and finally acknowledging that i'm disabled and that doesnt make me any less worthy#as a person has made me more compassionate towards myself and others#it just worries me how autistic people on here are trying to pass off their autism as 'just quirky' or whatever#like if you genuinely are just quirky then thats fine! but if you arent disabled by it then i'm sorry but its not autism#i guess its kinda similar to how i dont *dislike* the word neurodivergent per se. but it sure feels like at least some people are using it#so they dont have to say mentally disabled#disability is not a dirty word
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#something is very wrong in my brain today i am not doing well#somebody please acknowledge me#does anything i say here matter#no because im some random bitch that you cant even put a face to#but goddamn it i like to think that im at least acquainted with some of you#i need to go to therapy but the one i used to go to doesnt take my insurance anymore#and he made me feel like shit anyway#i have class tomorrow and now thanks to idiots on my gay little phone i would rather sleep for 40 years than show myself in front of people#am i really too big to be a gomez#or am i just too intense for people i love#why cant i find someone who wants to stay with me#i cant even find friends that want to stay with me#let alone romantic partners#that probably means im the problem right#is it gross#i thought i looked decent enough#attractive even#until people started saying that and now i just#i dont know
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ICJ Ruling
Okay, let's get into this.
First of all, I get the frustration at the court not ordering a ceasefire. I was disappointed and frustrated at first too, since a ceasefire was the biggest and most important preliminary measure South Africa was requesting - and of course we just all want this horror to finally end for the people in Gaza. So I get the frustration and disappointment, I really do.
However, I do think this ruling is still a major win for South Africa, Palestine, and international law as a whole and here's why:
The court acknowledged that it has jurisdiction over this case and completely dismissed Israel's request to throw out the case as a whole. It will now determine at the merits stage (that will probably take years) whether Israel is actually commiting genocide.
The court acknowledged that Palestinians are a "distinct national or ethnic group and therefore deserving of protection under the genocide convention". Pull this out next time someone tells you "there's no such thing as Palestinians, they're all just Arabs".
The court acknowledged very unambiguously that "at least some" of Israel's actions being genocidal in nature is "plausible". South Africa has a case, officially. Israel is accused of genocide, in a way the ICJ deems "plausible", officially. This is huge. (And seriously, how freaking satisfying was it to hear all of those genocidal statements by Israeli politicians read out loud and used as justification for this rulling?)
The court might not have ordered a "ceasefire" in those words, but they did order Israel to "immediately end all genocidal acts" (which includes killing and injuring Palestinians) and submit proof that they actually did. How are they going to comply with this ruling without at least severly reducing or changing what they're doing in Gaza?
In fact, this wording might actually be more appropriate for a genocide (vs a war), as author and journalist Ali Abunimah notes on Twitter:
He's completely right. Israel lost today, by overwhelming majority (I mean, 15 to 2? I heard people predict the rulings would be very close, like 9 judges vs 8, but instead we got 15 to 2 (and even 16 to 1 on the humanitarian aid). Holy shit.) The court disimissed almost everything Israel's side of lawyers said, while acknowledging that South Africa's accusations are "plausible".
And this is important especially because of Mr Abunimah's second tweet there^. Because the question is, where do we go from here?
This ruling means that Israel is officially /possibly/ commiting genocide and that should have huge international consequences. The rest of the world now HAS to take these accusations seriously and stop arming and supporting Israel - and if they won't do it on their own, we, the people, have to make them. This is THE moment to rise up all around the world, especially in the countries most supportive of Israel (the US, the UK, Germany): Protest, call your representatives and demand a ceasefire and an end of arms deliveries to Israel.
We now have a legal case to back our demands: If Israel is, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" commiting genocide, then all of our governments are, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" guiltly of aiding in genocide. And we need to hold that over their heads and demand better. We need to do that right now and in huge numbers. Most politicians only care about themselves and saving their skin. We have to make them realize that they could be accused of aiding in genocide.
(As a German, I'm thinking of Germany here in particular: After South Africa's hearing, our government dismissed their case as having "no basis" - how are they going to keep saying that now that the ICJ officially thinks otherwise? Over the last months, people here have been arrested at protests for calling what's happening in Gaza a genocide. How are the police supposed to legally keep doing that now that the ICJ has officially deemed this accusation "plausible"? I used to be scared to use the word "genocide" at protests or write it on my protest signs - not anymore, have fun trying to arrest me for that when the ICJ literally has my back on this one 🖕🏻.)
So yeah - don't be defeatist about this, don't let Israel's narrative that they "won" (they didn't) take over. This might not be everything we wanted, but it's still a good result. Don't let what the court didn't say ("ceasefire"), distract you from the very important things that they did say. Let this be your motivation to get loud and active, especially if you live in any country that supports Israel. Put pressure on your governments to not be complicit in genocide, you now officially have the highest international court on your side.
#ICJ#ICJ ruling#ICJ hearing#South Africa vs Israel#Free Palestine#Palestine#Palestinian genocide#Gaza#Germany#I get why Palestinians are disappointed and I don't want to devalue those feelings#(but maybe this can give you hope)#But thinking about this as a German this is huge#Most politicians and people here still deny (or at least strongly doubt) that there's a genocide happening#Calling it a genocide is seen as an 'extremist' position#And some of our politicians have been borderline gaslighting us and calling anyone who calls it genocide 'crazy'#So I'm just feeling immense vindication and a newfound fearlessness and motivation to be louder and more active than ever#and I hope others here feel the same#I hope the quiet masses stop being scared to say something now
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Real talk: the fact that Anya expects to read Demetrius’ mind but sees nothing is kind of sad because Demetrius saw his 6yo brother approach and congratulate him, and had zero thoughts in his brain. But that doesn’t mean Demetrius doesn’t care about him. When Damian stutters, Demetrius initiates conversation by talking about Damian’s grades, showing that he indeed pays attention.
Demetrius seems almost resentful by Damian’s insistence to impress Donovan, giving out a snarky, passive aggressive, teen appropriate response: “How would I know? It’s not as if I’m in regular contact with him.” This is like the passive aggressive version of whatever is going on with Melinda. Damian is a relatively innocent 6yo kid seeking his father’s approval, but both his mother and his brother appear to be seriously affected (in a bad way) by Donovan, and they avoid talking about Donovan even as Damian repeatedly mentions him. Demetrius doesn’t understand Damian’s desire for their father’s approval. He also doesn’t understand his father, hinting at some sort of disconnect between them.
What also saddens me a bit is how Demetrius barely acknowledged Damian’s friends talking to him. Like, they’re six year old kids trying to make a good impression. Still, Demetrius didn’t completely ignore them, just gave a meaningless “oh” and decided to stop thinking about people. It’s very much giving “stressed (and depressed) to the point of apathy”. When facing the innocence (ignorance?) and optimism of 6yo kids, Demetrius doesn’t understand. (And maybe he doesn’t understand friendship, which is what Damian has?)
I mentioned before that characters Anya met are probably “good” characters on the side of Forgers or at least are sympathetic to readers. Because if Anya met a “bad” character and read their mind, she would be too OP and the plot could be quickly solved. It’s like how we all thought Melinda was suspicious when she met Yor, but then Anya met Melinda and read her mind to reveal that she cares about Damian (even if it’s in a twisted way). Demetrius is interesting because he subverts what I said above by thinking very little, so Anya cannot really read him. But so far, I think his portrayal is that of a typical middle schooler with middle school angst, and he cares about Damian even if he has zero thoughts on his brain (and doesn’t like the way Damian craves fatherly approval). He is still a child and presumably a victim of his father’s parenting.
The framing is also interesting. Damian telling his friends to go on without him while he waits for Demetrius. The panel of Demetrius towering over a stuttering Damian. Demetrius going away, showing a panel of him as a small figure in an otherwise blank background. That panel when Anya thinks Damian’s relatives are weird has her looking at Damian while he’s some distance away from her (and the rest of his friends). The brothers feel disconnected. Damian is both eager and nervous to talk to Demetrius. Demetrius is nonchalant and apathetic, but not impolite or outwardly wholly dismissive.
Given Damian’s wacky family situation, I’m glad he has friends at Eden. Ewen and Emile of course are steadfast and loyal companions, always eager to back up their beloved boss man. Anya can read his mind and she knows about his insecurities (and also his weird family).
Becky is also good as a friend because she doesn’t care about sucking up to Damian, she often calls him out, but she also supports Damian when he deserves it. A sweet scene here is Damian saying he’s a Desmond so he’s expected to get a star, and Becky adding “it’s still a great achievement. Congrats!”. Becky is validating his success and telling Damian it’s okay to be proud and happy for himself. Even though she’s usually judgemental towards Damian, she’s still kind to him because that’s who she is as a character.
In the end, Damian still wants his father’s attention. He had no idea Demetrius wasn’t that close to their father… I would assume Demetrius spent most of his time at Eden and this is Damian’s first year at Eden, so he actually gets to interact with his brother instead of hearing things about him?
So far, Demetrius seems like a very jaded character in contrast to Damian who feels like a beam of sunshine now. He’s the heir so he’s got more troubles. But it’s nice that he’s finally debuted and no longer in mystery. Can’t wait to see what Endo has in store for him :)
#spy x family#this got so long??#damian desmond#demetrius desmond#becky blackbell#yeah im tagging them#uh#spy x family spoilers#long post#meta#sxf analysis
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aaron totally panicking at seeing his secret partner (reader) as a witness or being involved in a gruesome crime and just abandoning his duty to rush to her side and comfort her. 💗
like imagine reader is having an attack after witnessing our unsub in the interrogation room and aaron noticing it's his love when he reads the case file and running across the precinct to hug her!!!!
i all honesty i just need some minor angst and MAJOR fluff but i hope this doesn't inconvenience you <3
love youu <33333
the other side
i took this in a small different direction but the main idea is there you're a genius <333 wc; 1.1k cw; blood description (nothing too graphic), panicked reader, soft aaron, hurt to comfort
if aaron could have it his way, you would never know the true horrors of the world, or more specifically the sadistic people within it. and while that wasn't entirely possible, he would do whatever it takes to keep you away from it.
that's what he told himself every morning, either with you asleep next to him or when he awoke states away, when he questioned why he continually chose to take on the wickedness of human behavior.
not only because it was who he was, not only to help others, but his need to prevent it from reaching you. or jack. if he couldn't rid of it completely, at least he could partially control it.
in return there wasn't much you knew about his job - well, you knew, but he spared you the specifics.
and so, the very last thing he expected to see was you walking into the bullpen, escorted by a detective. a shock stricken expression plastered on your face. your shirt littered with small dots of red.
shit.
"excuse..." aaron spoke to the team, not even completing his sentence as he beelined straight towards you, whatever he was preoccupied with long forgotten.
your name left him in a breath as he approached you, still in disbelief you were here, followed by an "are you hurt?"
you clutched onto his forearm immediately, your fingers gripping onto the fabric of his suit jacket. you acknowledged him. you recognized it was him. you heard him, but you didn't hear him.
"hey, sweetheart." he tried again, his tone of voice on the desperate side. "are you hurt?"
"no. it's not mine." you finally breathed out, tears lining your eyes. "i was just, standing there and, and..."
"okay, that's okay." aaron nodded his head towards the agent, silently indicating he had it from here. he took ahold of your hands. they were trembling. "you're okay now. i have you."
"i- i just..."
"i know sweetheart. i know." he said soothingly, squeezing your hands to get you to look at him. what he was met with, shattered his heart into two. "c'mon, let's get you cleaned up.
he's never seen your eyes like that.
still clutching onto your hand, aaron led you up into his office to retrieve his go-bag - by no means was he about to leave you alone, or out of his sight for that matter - then back out and into the nearest bathroom. he was working at a hurried pace, eager to get you away from everything for a moment.
he escorted you swiftly inside, shutting the door behind the both of you.
once you heard the click of the lock, you let out the smallest breath of relief, thankful for the sudden solitude.
more than anything aaron wanted to pull you into his embrace, to provide the comfort he knew you needed. not only was he not sure if you were okay with being touched right now, if it would just be too much, but also due to the blood on your shirt.
so he did what he could, taking your hands into his.
"are you sure you're not hurt?" he could've asked if you were alright, but he didn't find a reason to, he knew you weren't. in addition, he needed the confirmation you were unharmed one more time.
you nodded, leaning against the edge of the counter.
"here, i'm going to take your shirt off." he looked at you, his brown eyes gentle with caution. "is that alright?"
again you responded with a short nod, instantly reaching for the hem of your shirt yourself.
he pushed your hands away softly, pulling your shirt over your head for you. your hands were still shaking, and he wanted to do it for you, to take care of you.
he set it aside, in case it were to be needed for evidence.
next, and thankfully, his bag also contained a washcloth. he was quick to soak it with warm water, beginning to gingerly wipe away any specks of red he could find.
although there wasn't much blood on your skin, aaron had a solid understanding of what you were feeling. once someone's own made contact with your skin, the sensation was incredibly difficult to get rid of, or simply felt permanent for a day or two.
he would make sure you would take a more thorough shower at home later, but for the meantime, he wanted to make you feel as clean and comfortable as possible.
once he was finished, he guided your arms into the sleeves of his spare shirt (which also happened to be your favorite, he always made sure to pack that one specifically to feel closer to you while away). he purposely took his time buttoning it to a close, not wanting to rush you back out there.
"i'm so sorry." his thumb and pointer fingered fiddled with a button as he spoke.
confusion arose on your face, replacing the persistent panic. "why're you sorry?"
once he finished the last one, analyzing your hands, turning them over despite the fact he was confident nothing still littered your body. "that you witnessed this."
"it's okay." you timidly offered, not convincing in the slightest.
"it's not. no." he couldn't take it any longer - pulling you into his arms. the contact finally slowed his rapid heartbeat, while you immediately melted into his chest, as if nothing could hold you up anymore. "what can i do?"
"just hold me." you mumbled into his chest, your arms tightening around his middle.
the two of you stood like that for a moment, aaron's hand taking strides along your back. he also placed a kiss behind your ear, the one spot he could currently reach.
"i just want to keep you safe."
"i know. and you do. and it's okay if you can't all the time."
he sighed, brief defeat in his voice. "i can try."
your embrace on him only tightened more.
he loosened his hold, still keeping his arms around you but being able to see your face. he let out a heavy breath, hesitant with his next question. "are you okay with being questioned?"
you wavered, silently contemplating for a moment. no, you weren't, but looking at aaron in front of you, the man you loved, changed your mind in an instant. if this was what he dealt with on the daily, you could be brave. you could be brave like him, for him.
you nodded slowly, your voice cracking mid-sentence. "will you be..."
"i'll be right there with you." he confirmed your thought immediately, placing a kiss to your forehead. "i'll be right there. we'll do this together."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x you#criminal minds imagine
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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 :)
#yandere bts#yandere taehyung#bts taehyung#kim taehyung#taehyung x reader#bts fic#bts x reader#yandere au#bts#bangtan boys#male yandere#taehyung fanfic#yandere taehyung x reader#kpop fanfic#taehyung fluff#yandere imagines#yandere fanfiction
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How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.
I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!
I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.
Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.
Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.
Nevertheless, back to the reader!
From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.
One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.
Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!
They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.
Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.
When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.
So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.
Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.
It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.
Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.
The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.
The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.
It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.
Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.
However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.
Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.
You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.
Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!
Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.
So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.
Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.
He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.
No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.
Let's just say, things work out a little too well.
---
As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!
Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!
I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.
So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.
This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.
... Hopefully.
I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.
Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.
Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.
Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.
The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!
Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.
Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)
I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.
Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.
The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.
So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.
Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.
Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.
So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.
I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?
So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.
I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!
#platonic yandere batfam#yandere batfam#gn reader#sibling reader#yandere dc#yandere x gn reader#platonic yandere#yandere alfred#neglected reader#talking daydreams#yandere batman
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SWAN SONG. ( chris sturniolo. )
warnings › straight up smut SORRY. dry humping !! 😁🌟 horny chris brainrot, i apologize. NOT PROOFREAD.
author’s note › this is absolutely an edited draft LMAO but take this as a peace offering while i work on the next chapter of 7 hours <3. i was actually gonna continue this but i got lazy soz.
chris’s hands traveled to your hips, pulling you on top of his lap, accommodating you in a straddling position on his gaming chair, your immediate reaction being to wrap your hands around his neck, one of your hands softly gripping onto his hair.
a half smirk was plastered on his face, leaning into your neck as his hands went to grip your waist, his mouth almost attacking your neck. after all, you deserved it after having to watch him game almost all afternoon. he was well aware you’d been feeling a little neglected after acknowledging his almost omniscient presence as he played, with soft sighs escaping your lips in an intent to get him to shift his attention to you.
he’s noticed this, of course, he’d be stupid not to. he just decided it’d be a tad bit more fun to play around with you for a little while, letting the tension accumulate in the air as your glance made its way down to his skillful hands, moving around the controller in a way that made your thoughts shift elsewhere.
his brothers weren’t home, which made it more convenient for you to be in his room. for the most part, you kept each other as a secret, that’s just how it was between you. neither of you had brought up the conversation of a label because it wasn’t at all relevant when his hands and mouth were put to good use.
he continued his work on your neck, whispering sweet nothings into you as he marked you up. your head was clouded and hazy, not realizing this would mean a headache in the morning while having to cover his mess with concealer, lazily and drowsily having to graze the makeup brush against your skin. but to be honest, that was the least of your worries when he was sweet talking his way through it, the honey dripping from his words causing an impact straight on your core.
“you’re so gorgeous,” he spoke in a deep slightly raspy voice, causing your core to almost throb, your hips uncontrollably rolling down onto him ever so slightly, his cold hands roaming under your shirt and making their way upward, making it his personal mission to caress every part of your body that his hands managed to roam– from the hem of your shirt, up to your abdomen, and finally residing on your breasts, which made you let out a small whine in response.
“you like that?”
all you could do was nod. he knew your short and breathy response was an indicator he should keep going, and he did, his hands massaging your breasts gently, carefully observing how your mouth slightly opened and your head started to very slowly and slightly move back. however, your response somehow seemed to unsatisfy chris, longing for a more verbal reply from you.
“use your words, angel. wanna hear you say it.” he encouraged, sweetness eradicating from his voice– though his actions had a sense of mischief to them, his palms slowly sliding down to your hips again in a teasing manner, waiting for you to explicitly tell him what you wanted.
“yes. please– chris,” your whines came as such a desperate plead, almost nearing begging in a sense despite only saying two words, your hands made their way around his neck, attempting to get some sort of friction even if it meant through your clothes, a shaky gasp escaping your lips as your core rolled onto the tight tent straining against his pants.
just by looking at your blissed out expression, head slightly thrown back and the small gasps that left your lips he was sure he was about to bust in his grey sweatpants, which already had a small stain of precum on it from you straddling him– the compromising position and the roll of your hips onto his made it even more difficult for him to control himself, allowing his hands to grip onto the sides of your hips a bit more tightly, guiding the movement of your hips down onto his crotch, letting out a low groan that if you paid a bit more attention, would almost be a whimper.
“that’s it, you’re doing so— fuck, good.” he had to interrupt himself unintentionally, your soft sounds going straight down to his dick, wishing you were unclothed so he could get a direct feel of the slick he knew was coating your pretty folds and making a mess in your lace panties.
“please,” a low whimper fell from your lips at the contact of his bulge against the fabric of your panties, creating even more friction between the both of you as your hips rocked back and forth following the pace he was setting as his hips started to meet your movements halfway, rutting upwards ever so slightly to create a more pleasant sensation.
he knew exactly how to make you feel like you had electricity going through your body, your head clouded with so many different thoughts yet nothing at all at the same time, completely lost in the feeling of his restrained bulge sliding against your clothed, yet evidently wet core.
chris’s head started to feel like it was spinning, and you could tell with the way his eyes were rolling almost to the back of his head with every roll of your hips and whisper of his name– he was fucked out. the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and the soft, shaky breaths that came from his lips were an evident indicator of the loss of words he was in, more so lost in the feeling of pleasure, the feeling of you, enjoying and deeply savoring each and every second you allowed his hands to grip your hips and pull you down onto him.
one of his hands roamed further down into your panties, finally desperate enough to feel you to the extent he had to give in and touch you where you most needed it. his hand slid gently moved your panties to the side, and he let out a shaky breath as he felt the lace his fingers were touching.
“so wet for me,” his voice was the slightest bit shaky– being careful with his choice of words because surely enough, at this point, he was on the verge of reaching his orgasm without even being touched. “atta girl.”
despite his hand starting to rub onto your nub ever so gently yet at a speed he could only manage, rubbing the bundle of nerves in a way that made your head spin, you continued the movement of your hips, and so did he, meeting you halfway, his free hand still holding onto your hip, helping your movements increase in speed as both your noises started to echo through the walls; his grunts, your whimpers of his name, his whines, it all sounded so incredibly pornographic.
“shit— baby, fuck, slow down–” he attempted to plead for you to slow down, although he was the one setting the pace by keeping his hand on your hip and his fingers on your clit. his breaths suddenly started to feel heavier than before, gasping softly before you felt a slight sticky sensation below you, alongside feeling his legs tense up before giving out, his fingers stopping their movements for a second as his head leaned back on the headrest of his gaming chair.
you looked down at the mess your fluids had made, especially his, staining his grey sweatpants with spots of cum– you couldn’t believe you’d just made him come undone for you without even touching him in the slightest. it definitely made you proud, knowing the effect you had on him was certainly endearing, and you couldn’t help the smirk that started to creep up onto your face as one of your hands traveled up the nape of his neck to play with small strands of his hair softly, helping him get through his high before letting out a low giggle.
“you think that’s funny?” he asked breathily, his tone obviously playful as a half smile appeared on his face while he leaned up slightly to press a quick but loving kiss onto your lips, leaning back down on the chair, staring up at you with glossy eyes, cheeks tinted a deep shade of pink.
“maybe.” your reply was quick, but he could sense the teasing tone you were implying, accompanying your sentence with a shrug of your shoulders just to add a little attitude.
“alright, my turn then.”
#lucvly#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo
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Yeah but like what if one day Gaz walked into a room and saw Y/N FNAF lore dumping to Ghost
[Infodumping the boys]
(Mostly Platonic tf141 x gen neutral! reader, hints at Ghost bc it’s me and I’m biased.)
Summary: Teddy aka You, decide to gather the gang and tell them about five nights at Freddy’s before the movie comes out.
Word count: 800 ish
Warnings: Possibly of for the boys (idrc tho lmao), Teddy is this readers callsign, reader is implied to be at least early 20’s, I can’t think of anything else tbh but lmk if this does need something tagged!
It wasn't uncommon for you to infodump your teammates, they're all older than you and have significantly less screen time than you (it ties into being older). Most of the information you give them is something they take as fact, this is no different.
Gaz of all people knows your interests best, you two being the closest in age means you both realistically grew up with the internet and its most popular series.
The last thing he expected walking into one of the many meeting rooms on base, was you at the front of the room, your laptop hooked up to the projector and Price and Soap sitting down, dutifully listening with varying degrees of attention.
Price is to your left, staring down at mission documents that no doubt need to be turned in by tomorrow. A glass of some liquor next to his stack, a cigar box that's propped open right by it as well.
To anyone else, it would seem like Price isn't listening and he's just here to keep you from bothering him to come but Gaz can see the Captain's eye flick up every so often, his eyes softening when his gaze falls on yours, listening for a few beats, a miniscule upturn of his lips until he's looking back down again, grabbing a pen to make a correction.
Soap on the other hand is sitting next to Cap, a hand resting under his chin, the other flipping around a pen in his hands. He's nodding and asking questions as you flick through. Below him is a notebook that seems to have scribbled in it, if Gaz walked in further he could see little drawings of Monty Gator and Soap himself, a Venn diagram with a large red writing saying "Mohawk!!"
Ghost being there probably should be a shock but it isn't. The man is known to follow you around like a shadow, he humors you arguably the most out of the four men, letting you drag him to and from places with minimal complaint. He bets Ghost is gonna be the one to take you to the five nights at Freddys movie premiere.
Simon's dressed down to just his hoodie and his balaclava mask, attentively watching you as you speak passionately about each character and their role in the series. his dark eyes flicking around to stare at the drawings you inserted so everyone could see what the animatronics and others looked like.
You would've thought this was a mission debrief with how focused he was on your words.
Gaz lets out a fake cough, announcing himself to the room and he watches as your eyes immediately latch onto him, he ignores how his heart skips a beat when he sees the crinkles of your eyes, seeing you shoot a glowing smile his way.
You always look at him like that but he never tires of it.
"Gaz! Finally, you're here!"
Rushing over to him, you grab at his hand, quickly intertwining fingers, and start dragging him to the seat next to Ghost. He sits down with a huff, amusement swimming around his eyes. You move to go back to the front of the room, gleefully rocking on the balls of your feet as you look at them.
"What's all this about?" He questions, after getting nods in acknowledgment from the other 3 men in the room.
"Teddy here is tellin' us about five nights at…Frankies?"
"It's Freddy's, Johnny." You roll your eyes playfully.
"No shot you're making Ghost and Cap listen to this."
"I'm not making them do anything, they're here of their own free will, thank you very much." Sticking out your tongue, moving to click to the next slide.
"Is that true Cap?"
"It's background noise," John murmurs with a shrug, taking a swig out of his glass. He leans back in his seat, seemingly taking a momentary break as he looks around at the table.
"Got nothin' better else to do," Simon answers easily, looking at Gaz from the corner of his eye.
"You ain't gonna ask me, Garrick?"
"Nah, you of all people would enjoy it."
"What's tha-"
"Boys! Shut it! We're getting to the good part!" You clap your hands together and Soap immediately cuts himself off, looking back at you.
With all the boys' eyes on you, you clear your throat and push a button, there, from when Gaz remembers, is Michael Afton in all his purple nasty body glory.
"Fucks wrong with him? Why does he look like that?" Simon remarks, an eyebrow shooting up.
"I'm so glad you asked, you know actually the more I think about it, You and Michael actually have a lot in common.”
"How so?"
"Asshole dad, the oldest brother, daddy issues, I can keep going if you want."
Ghost just grunts in acknowledgment, raising a hand to his head and rubbing at his temples.
Price chokes on his liquor, coughing as it goes down the wrong pipe.
Soap audibly drops an "oh."
And Gaz just stares, truth be told, yeah. Yeah, he can see the resemblance.
#my eyes burn I’m sick Iof looking at this bye#ghost <3#soap <3#price <3#gaz <3#call of duty#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#soap x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#john price x reader#john price#call of duty drabble#kayla writes <3#gender neutral reader#gen z!reader#teddy <3
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I need everyone to acknowledge the fact that KRS!Cale is a MASSIVE bookworm. He's able to thrive in Birth of a hero because he read it and enjoyed it. (yesyes record helps him, but you can't ignore the fact that he knows the characters, not just the plot. That comes from liking the thing you're reading!)
Give me the young master spending his afternoons reading under the shade of a tree with a new book series and absolutely devouring it in one sitting. He's missed being able to read a whole series and not having to hunt for the next books through a destroyed city.
Give me Cale with a little notebook full of books he'd like to read, the titles collected from the people he talks to. He'll read anything or at least try it out, but fantasy remains his favourite genre.
He also writes little opinion blurbs for his favourtie books, or jots down quotes and favourite lines. Sure his record ability means that he doesn't really have to, but it's an old habit he enjoys.
Cale, who starts collecting books on his travels, just one or two from every place he visits. His friends and allies pick up on this and start bringing him books they think he'd like. Cale has a very speicifc and rare smile when someone gifts him a book. Its small, but it somehow takes over his entire face, and you can almost see his eyes sparkle in delight. It quickly becomes a smile everyone looks forward to.
Cale, who never turns down a book given as a gift, and so he starts picking up bits of knowledge from across the continent. He learns about the edible plants in the Jungle, the different variations of marble and stone throughout the Roan Kingdom, the fables and myths of the Dark Elves. He keeps them on a shelf in his room in the super rock villa, and every once in a while, the kids pick one to have read to them. When the shelf is full, Eruhaben pulls some out from his hoard as a gift to Cale. They're almost too gaudy, but Eruhaben enchants them to protect the books from dust, damage, and pests. Cale spends an entire day reorganizing his collection.
He never thought he would be able to build his own personal library, but here he is.
Cale loves to compare the books he has in this world and the ones he knew before. Sometime in the future, he sits down and uses record to copy out his favourite series. He gifts it to Choi Han so he can have a small piece of home he never got to experience.
It becomes known that the best way to get Cale to stop and actually take a break is to plop a kid on his lap and give him a book he's been looking forward to. One year for his birthday, Alberu gives Cale free rein to explore the palace's secret library. They find him curled up in a corner a couple hours later surrounded by stacks of books.
Cale is 100% the type of person to insist that more libraries should be available to the public so that he can read easily when travelling to different places. It's definetly not because he wants more kids to be able to learn how to read, and he was able to grow into loving books because of his local library.
#please i need more bookworm cale#he's a nerd your honour#tcf#cale henituse#trash of the counts family#headcanons#tcf headcanons#raon miru#don't forget that og!cale liked to read to!#one of the first things krs!cale does is go to bilos and ask for a book to read and something to drink#lout of the count’s family
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For the long haul - Lee Know
Thank you to @jehhskz for another wonderful request. I appreciate you so much sweetheart
Masterlist
Lee know x Reader (afab)
Warnings: Cursing, angst, smut, unprotected sex but reader on birth control, dom!Minho, mean!Minho, Fingering, kissing, hickeys, enemies to lovers, fluff, pet names
WC: 2.8k
MDNI 18+
This could not possibly get any worse.
“Could you stop breathing so fucking loud?”
Correction, now it couldn’t get any worse.
Your professor just had to pair you with Minho, knowing very well how much he hated you. You both were in the same theater program at your university, and Minho had decided he hated you your very first semester when you got a better score on a dance performance than him. He was a petty son of a bitch and didn’t forget nor forgive, thus had been metaphorically shitting on you almost daily for 4 years.
I guess what he didn’t count on was you could play that game too. When he bit -you bit harder, when he ran his mouth you were right there with a rebuttal. He loved to point out your flaws, trying to get a rise out of you. You would never admit how his words hurt you.
Truthfully you had a crush on Minho back then. How could you not? He was beautiful. Sharp features, dark cat like eyes, lips that looked so soft. Oh don't even get started on his body. The boy had abs that were drool worthy.
Not like any of that mattered when he was a colossal asshole to you. Like he was being right now. Currently you were both sitting next to each other on a plane, on a class trip to London to see Shakespeare's theater. Your teacher had selected trip partners, meaning he was stuck with you for the next week. Here on the plane and in the hotel room when you were in London.
Yippee
“Can you mind your own fucking business?” You rebutted, shutting your eyes tighter and leaning back further into your seat. It was bad enough you were stuck next to him for 6 more hours but he really would not shut the fuck up.
“Maybe I would if you would close your mouth when you sleep.” He was grouchy, probably feeling similarly to you.
“Whatever Minho.” You put your headphones over your ears and your eye mask on, blocking him out completely. Though you knew the possibility of a nap while seated next to him was next to zero. If you hadn’t put your mask on you might not have missed the way he gulped when you said his name. Wouldn’t have missed the effect you had on him.
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After that greuling 12 hour flight you had finally made it to your destination. And just as you predicted, you got zero sleep on the flight. Though you pretended to sleep to avoid the man that was next to you. At least it was night time in England by the time you made it off the plane, around 10pm. Meaning you were headed straight for the hotel and right to bed. In a bed directly next to Minho..
Your one moment of peace came when your group got on the bus to the hotel, you were able to snag a seat away from him. It was at this moment you were able to reflect on the situation. It really was unfortunate that Minho was such a jerk to you, there was a part of you that still harbored that crush on him from your freshman year. You had seen him be kind to others, you knew he had it in him. Just not for you.
Kinda broke your heart a little bit.
Pulling up to the hotel you knew your peace was over. You were purposefully the last person off the bus, grabbing your room key from your teacher - who for some reason seemed way too smug when she wished you a goodnight- and slowly made your way up with your bags in tow.
You stood in front of the room door, bracing yourself for the onslaught you were sure to receive when you entered, took a deep breath and opened the door. Minho was already in there, putting his clothes into the drawers next to his claimed bed. Of course he chose the one next to the window.
He didn't acknowledge you when you walked in and set your stuff down on your bed. You took out a pair of your pjs and waited a moment before asking, “Did you want to shower first or do you mind if I?”
He didn’t offer you a verbal answer, instead just waving his hand at you to go ahead. You guessed that was better than being mean to you so you collected your clothes and went into the bathroom.
You took your time in the shower, the hot water helping you escape reality, though the water pressure sucked. While you were in there you could hear a faint voice talking back in your room. These walls must have been realllllly thin, since you could pick up pieces of a conversion Minho seemed to be having, but you didn’t hear anyone elses voice so he must be on the phone.
You were only getting a few words.
‘I dont know how-’ ‘stuck with her’ ‘fucked up’ ‘control’ was all you were able to get before you realized you may have been in there too long.
As you shut the water off you heard Minho say “I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
You dressed and brushed your teeth before exiting the bathroom. Minho let out a scoff when you entered the room “Took you long enough. Did the princess need some pampering?” He was condescending with his words. He grabbed his own pjs before walking past you.
Before he could close the door to the bathroom you blurted out “Why do you hate me so much?” there was a crack in your voice. He seemed to freeze and stare at your back. You were facing away from him when you asked it, thankfully so or he would have seen how your bottom lip wobbled when you asked it.
Minho gave you no answer, only softly closing the door and locking it behind him.
When he shut himself in you let a few tears slip out. You put your dirty clothes away before climbing into your bed and burying your face into your pillow, to hide the tears that steadily leaked from your eyes.
It seemed he too took his time, as it was about 30 minutes before he came out to your curled up form hidden under your covers. He could tell you were crying by the small shakes emitting from your form every few seconds. Minho ran his hand over his face before approaching you slowly, and took a seat on the edge of your bed. You felt the bed dip but didn’t say anything or look at him. Until he spoke first.
“I..I don't hate you.” His voice was soft. The softest you had ever heard, as if he was afraid to speak.
You wiped your eyes before uncovering your face enough to peer at him, “Then why.. If you don’t hate me, why do you treat me like you do?”
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair nervously, “It started because I was…jealous. Jealous that such a pretty and well liked girl was doing better than me, better than me at my passion. It came so naturally for you. While I had to work so hard. It drove me crazy.” He wasn't looking at you while he said it. You took a beat before answering.
“You think I'm pretty?”
He spun his head around to look at you in disbelief “ That's what you focused on?!”
You pulled yourself out of the blankets, “I mean, I never meant for you to feel like you weren't enough, Minho.” You brought yourself closer to him but not touching. “ I always thought you were an incredible dancer. I actually strive to be as good as you are. Strive to be good enough for you.”
He looked into your eyes “You are good enough. It’s me that's the problem. I didn’t know how to properly manage my own feelings and by the time I figured it out we already had this hostile dynamic. And I haven't been fair to you with the way I’ve been treating you.” He had shame on his face.
“No you haven’t.” You agreed. “But I havent been a saint to you either. That's not how you treat someone that you.. That you like.”
“You like me? After all we’ve done and said to each other, you like me?” He asked incredulously. You nodded and covered your face with your hands, embarrassed at admitting it to him. “Hey don't hide.” He reached out and took your hands in his, pulling them from your red face. “ I guess now would be a good time to tell you that…. I like you too, have since the day I first saw you in class.”
At his words your brain short circuited and before you knew what you were doing you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his shocked lips. You pulled away quickly after registering exactly what you had just done.
“Oh my god I am so sorry Mi-” He cut you off by crashing his lips back into yours, encapturing you into him.
You moaned lowly into his mouth when he ran his tongue against your bottom lip, as if asking for permission. He shoved the appendage into your mouth immediately claiming dominance over you. He brought his hand up to the side of your neck where he gripped lighty, angling your head to his liking so he could shove himself further into you.
After a few seconds he released you, biting on your bottom lip as he went.
“Tell me what you want, baby girl.” His voice was raspy. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
“I want all of you, Minho. Everything.”
He groaned, his eyes darkening with desire. He gave you a smirk “Oh I’ll give it to you alright. If you need me to stop or if it gets too much for you, say ‘red’ and I’ll stop.”
“Yes minho.” You nodded, ready for him. The wetness between your legs was growing by the second.
“That's a good girl.” He pushed you down onto your bed and climbed over you, attaching his mouth back on to yours. This time it was all teeth mashing against your own. It was downright dirty, the way his tongue bossed its way into you. He wasted no time in finding the hem of your shirt and lifting it up over your head, then he threw it somewhere without a care.
He groaned when his rough hands made contact with your bare breasts. “Mmm no bra?” He mumbled. “Bet if I go lower I’ll find you're not wearing any panties under these dainty shorts huh?” With one hand still groping your chest the other slithered down your waist and into the front of your sleep shorts where he was right- you had no panties on. “Fuck you are a dirty girl huh? Almost like you knew I would wanna fuck you tonight? Hm?”
You shook your head, “Just don’t wear them to bed is all Min, promise.” You gasped when his pointer finger made contact with your clit, the digit starting to rub slow circles on the nub.
“Hmm I don't think I believe you baby girl.” He tutted, “I think subconsciously you are a little freak who wanted me to fuck her. Well let me share another secret with you, so am I.”
Minhos mouth left bruising kisses on your neck while he played with your core, after a particularly hard suck he took the finger that was down there and shoved it into your hole, causing you to moan loudly.
“Min-minho!”
“Shhh babygirl, don’t want anyone to hear you huh? People are trying to sleep.” He was teasing you with his words. He added another finger to your heat, curling them up to find that sweet spot that made you see stars. He kept at this for a few minutes, coating his fingers in your juices.
You could tell he was struggling though, as every so often he would rut against the bed looking for any friction.
“Min..” You were able to get out between squeaks. "Wanna- wanna ride you, Min.”
At your words he bit into the skin he was suckling on your neck, causing you to bite your lip to keep quiet from the scream you would have let loose otherwise.
Minho removed his hands from you and propped himself up, his lips red and swollen. He gave you an almost menacing stare. “Little baby wants to ride me? Think you can handle it?”
You nodded enthusiastically,”Mmhmm please. Been dreaming of it for years.”
“Fuck.” He whispered to himself. “Years huh? Well since you've been so patient I guess I’ll grant your wish.” He stood only to remove the clothes from his own body. When he pulled down his joggers his cock slapped up against his stomach, red and proud. You could feel your mouth literally watering at the sight. He was beautiful. Like a work of art. All those years of dance really paid off for him.
His next words brought you out of your daze. “Fuck, I don't have a condom. Do you?”
You shook your head. “No, but I'm on birth control and I’m clean. I don't mind you going in raw if you’re clean too.”
“I’m clean.” He assured you. His smirk returned, “Take your shorts off.” You did as you were told as he plopped down next to you. Minho took his length in his hand and gave himself a few jerks before motioning you over. “Come on babygirl, climb aboard.”
You wasted no time, throwing a leg over his body and positioning yourself over his cock. For a moment you were worried he wouldn’t fit, he was so big. The biggest you had seen in person. As if he could sense your apprehension he teased “Don’t worry, it’ll fit.” He placed his hands on your hips, and your own hand gripped onto him lining him up to your hole, before you slowly sunk down on him.
You both threw your heads back at the intrusion. He didn’t give you a moment to adjust before he was lifting your body up and down on his cock, your insides struggling to accommodate him.
“Fffuuuckkk, you have the tightest pussy ever.” He groaned out from under you.
You placed both your hands on his chest and began to ride him the best you could, already feeling the burn in your thighs. He could really see all the hickeys he had left on your skin from this angle. You were driving him wild.
Each time you sank on him you let out a squeakish moan. Minho knew your sounds would wake the neighbors if he didn’t shut you up, so with one hand still on your hip the other tangled itself in your hair and yanked you down hard, to meet his face where he once again gave you a bruising kiss. You yelped into his mouth, the pain felt so good you couldn’t help it.
You could feel yourself start to lose rhythm from atop him, your orgasm impending. Minho could tell by the way your thighs shook. He wanted to get you there so he let go of your hip in favor of sliding his fingers back to your core where he rubbed harshly on your bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you came around him, coating his thighs, balls, and lower stomach in your release.
Your orgasm seemed to have triggered his own, as seconds later he was spurting inside of you, painting your insides white.
“Oh my fucking god. Shit you ride me so well baby.” He mumbled out against your mouth, not really kissing, more like just breathing in each other.
After a few moments of trying to catch your breath you rolled off of him, onto the space next to him. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, it was a strange but welcome feeling.
Minho was the first to speak. “That was incredible. I don't think I’ve ever cum that hard before in my life.”
You giggled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Me either.”
He faced you and gave you another kiss on your lips only lasting a second before he pulled away and placed his forehead against your own. “I don’t want you to think this was a one time thing. As far as I'm concerned you are my girl now.”
“Really?” You asked hopefully, eyes shining at the idea of being his.
“Absolutely. I have wanted you for years and now that I have you I’m never letting you go. You’re stuck with me, babes. For the long haul.”
“That's all I want Minho. Just want you.” You kissed him sweetly. “But first I think I need another shower.”
He laughed and hurled himself off the bed and gathered you in his arms, taking you to the bathroom to clean you up.
A/N: as always comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
Requests are open as well! If anyone has an idea shoot me an ask :)
©doitforbangchan
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#skz smut#lee know#lee know x reader#lee minho#lee know smut#lee minho smut#lee minho x reader#lee minho stray kids#lee minho skz#lee minho x you#stray kids smut
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𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 | ghostface!darren (pig) x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | he probably wasn't even invited to this party, because who would invite him? but he came anyways... just to torment you. far more than you could've imagined, in fact.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 2.5k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | NONCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!!, public sex, degradation, pain kink, knife kink, a bit of predator/prey, blood kink, smoking, unprotected sex/implied risk of pregnancy, darren is kind of an incel lmao
It was a pretty traditional high school party— overcrowded, loud and sweaty, bad music and worse liquor— but at least the sea of costumes, ranging from scary to silly to sexy, added at least some new layer of interest to the whole thing.
You hadn’t tried very hard with your devil costume— more accurately an attempt at a ‘sexy devil’ costume— but you put on horns and heels with a tight red dress and nobody can really complain. You weren’t really here to get into the ‘spooky spirit’ or whatever anyways, just an excuse to drink and maybe chat with some people you’d been missing.
The person you ended up chatting to right in that moment, though, was exactly the last person you wanted to talk to.
You didn’t even know there was someone behind you until you felt him press up to your back, suddenly hovering right by you. “Want a drink?” he asked, shoving a cup towards you, but you were too busy nearly jumping out of your skin to care— you almost knocked the drink over, actually some of it did splash onto another partygoer, but she was too drunk to notice.
“Fuck!” you yelped, turning to see the gangly boy behind you. “Christ, Darren, do you have to always sneak up on a girl like that?”
He just smiled and tried to offer the drink to you again.
“M’already holding one,” you pointed out with a frown, “didn’t ya notice?”
“O-oh yeah,” he mumbled, lowering the cup finally. “Costume looks good.”
“Thanks,” you shrugged, though you suddenly felt the urge to tug down the bottom of your dress.
“You’re not worried what the boys are gonna think with you dressed like that?” he asked, and you glared at him as you shoved his shoulder.
“Don’t you think before you open your fuckin’ mouth?” you spat. “What are you, anyway?”
The black robes didn’t really tell you anything— not until he reached behind his head and pulled a Ghostface mask over his face.
“Oh,” you snorted, “not the most original, is it?”
“Don’t like t’movie?” he wondered as he pulled the mask back again.
“I mean, it’s pretty good,” you relented, “but—”
“You wanna fuck ‘im, don’t you?” he insisted suddenly with a lascivious grin.
“What?” you squinted.
“Ghostface,” he clarified, “you’re one of the girls who thinks he’s fit, yeah?”
“Why are you always such a creep?” you asked him with a grimace, but then you decided to change the topic quickly. “Kinda thought you’d be a pig or something,” you admitted, “with the nickname and all.”
“Nah, that’s stupid,” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms— which made you notice the prop knife in his hand. It actually looked pretty good, shinier than most plastic costume knives.
Just then, Jimmy O’Doyle sauntered up beside you, slipping his arm around your shoulders. “Ay, little devil,” he greeted, flicking the red horns on your head as you smiled sheepishly.
He hardly acknowledged Darren, spare for a quick nod, but Darren was staring at Jimmy for a little too long before he looked at you again.
“Thought you said you didn’t want a boyfriend,” Darren said sharply, glowering a bit.
Jimmy scoffed and you shifted uncomfortably; Darren tended to be… what’s the word… desperate? Clingy? Overall bizarre? He certainly couldn’t take much of a hint.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said first, though that didn’t really matter— you didn’t need any reason to reject Darren, outside of your natural self-preservation instinct. He actually wasn’t bad-looking, but it was hard to tell past those leering eyes and the uncomfortable smile. He wasn’t smiling now though… he looked quietly enraged, sipping pointedly on his drink as he glanced away for a moment.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Jimmy smirked at you, hardly waiting for your nod before disappearing back into the crowd.
Suddenly, as you felt Darren’s livid gaze from awkwardly close, you decided that you needed a little fresh air. And by that, you really meant a cigarette.
Not wanting to tell Darren that you were going outside for a smoke, you instead mumbled some excuse about going to the loo— somewhere he was just sane enough not to follow you to— and bumped through the crowd until you found a door out into the neighbourhood.
There was a slight drizzle still going outside— more of a misting, really— that made everything all foggy and grey, spare for the yellow-y glow of the streetlamps dotting the way. It wasn’t a full moon, as cool as that would be, but near to one… regardless, it wasn’t visible behind low, dark clouds, leaving the night starless and dreary. There wasn’t much to look at in the alley as you lit your cigarette and took slow drags from it, so as you stared blankly forward at brick walls with chipping whitewash, your mind wandered a bit. Nothing of great merit: upcoming assignments, the possibility of an afterparty, the lingering hope you could find a steamy hook-up for the night… you didn’t just put this outfit on for the pictures.
Before you could get too far into your imagination, you were startled by a distant sound, jumping slight as your head turned towards it— but it was just the dark alley, not much to see. You squinted, trying to make out movement in the shadows, but for quite a while you couldn’t see anything.
Only when you turned your head back forward with a shrug was there any sign of what you’d heard, just a shift in the corner of your eye. You looked at it again, and you hated to admit it, but your heart froze up for a second when that white face emerged from the darkness.
Of course, you gave your best unaffected scoff when you actually processed what you were looking at.
“Quit it, Darren,” you warned, willing your voice to sound stable as you shouted down the road towards him, “you’re not gonna scare me.”
You watched him move closer, stepping into the light so you could see him better, and tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck stood up. If he knew he was getting to you, he’d just keep doing it; you rolled your eyes and took a drag through your cigarette to try to seem nonchalant… but you had to stop your hand from shaking just a bit. Only because it was chilly out, surely…
You thought it was a joke— a stupid joke, but still just a joke— until he dragged his knife along the brick wall as he stalked toward you. The sharp, high-pitched screech of metal against stone was unmistakable… and that was how you realised it was a real knife. A very sharp, very real knife; he’s going to actually kill me, you thought, just before you let out a primal and instinctive scream.
Turning on your heel, you ran as fast as you could. Each rapid pulse of your heart pumped adrenaline through your veins, and you felt so shaky that you worried the light night breeze would knock you over.
These were far from running shoes, though— they were pretty excruciating to just stand in, actually— and it was only a few blocks of a chase before you tripped. Yelping in pain, you tried to scramble up or even crawl forward… but just as you rolled over and winced from landing on your hip, you saw him stalking forward into the flickering light of a streetlamp.
He was probably just going to take the mask off and laugh at you, right? Reveal the whole thing was a silly prank and the knife was fake and that he just wanted to prove you were scared of him. Yes, that would be the most sane thing for him to do at that moment, even after being so not-sane by chasing you with a knife. Instead, as you tried to crawl back, he just tilted his masked head curiously at you, and with his free hand reached down and palmed at his groin. He was hard— you could see the outline of it through his costume, his hips rocking forward slightly into his palm as you heard a muffled hiss from his mouth.
He knelt down and grabbed your kicking legs, roughly yanking you closer and hovering above you menacingly. “C’mon and scream for me,” he ordered with a delighted purr, pulling his mask back, laughing when what came out of you was more of a wail or sob instead. “Louder, y’little whore—”
“Get off me!” you shrieked, trying to fight him away, whining as he laid down over you instead and licked your neck. You turned your head with a grimace, shuddering as his weight pinned you against the slightly-damp pavement.
“G’na show Pig how tight the little hole gets when you’re scared— aren’t ya, fuckin’ slut?”
“Be serious, Darren— s’not funny, get away from me!”
You struggled less when he flashed the knife; as little as you could, in fact you actually nearly froze as he teased you with it, running the tip down the front of your dress with just enough pressure to pop a few sequins off, making you whimper in terror. He laughed, though— a small, dark, chuckle. “Quiet now,” he noticed. “Don’t make a fuss, sweetheart.”
You had to bite your lip to hide a shout, though, when a gloved hand up slipped under your short dress, grabbing greedily at your lacy panties. He licked his teeth, bared by his grin, as he stared at you with those haunting eyes of his. “Wet, aren’tcha, girl?” he taunted— not that he’d be able to feel it through his black gloves, but past your own groaning you could almost hear it (though you tried not to).
“You’re such a creep!” you spat, though you tried to regulate your tone as you glanced at his knife again, held against you by one of his hands on your arm; maybe part of you still thought he would stop and admit it was a joke, but the darkness in his stare made you doubt that more and more. The gravity of the situation still hadn’t really set in yet— sure, you were coursing with fear and had goosebumps all over, but it didn’t totally feel real.
“Won’t take too long,” he promised with a sigh as he hastily tugged his costume out of the way, still pinning you down with one hand (if not as effectively). When he roughly yanked his cock out, proudly brandishing it between your legs as your eyes went wide… that’s when it felt real.
“Don’t,” you gasped instantly, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Don’t, Darren, please— you can’t—”
“Shh,” he hissed quickly, “s’good— gonna feel good, alright?”
He gasped loudly as he pushed inside you, eyes shutting tight before he dropped his head down onto your chest. “Fuck, girl— what’s a whore cunt so tight for?”
Not wasting any time, he pulled his hips back and roughly thrusted forward into you again, making you choke on your cry.
“S’for me, isn’t it?” he decided with a sick sort of grin. “Want Pig to feel good? Like t’squeeze the thick cock, don’t ya?”
“I— I fuckin’ hate you,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tight, in disgusted disbelief that this was happening— that it was him inside you, holding you down. But you couldn’t forget it, not with him moaning and purring above you, mumbling stuttered praises… and the feeling of it, it was impossible to ignore, as much as you hoped to somehow. It was a deep stretch, each thrust making your chest tighten out of more than just fear.
“Mmf, fuck,” he grunted, holding onto you tighter— another reminder he still had that fucking knife. “Pretty— it’s a pretty thing… it’s warm inside…”
Grimacing, you hated the way your body responded to his lewd comments about it; your walls clenched on him slightly, you could tell by the way you felt even more sore inside than before.
He pressed the knife up against your neck, growling in amusement at your wince of fear. “Think Pig’s gonna slice you?”
“I… I don’t know,” you stammered out your answer, eventually.
“Waste of a pretty face, no?” he smirked, moving the knife up and caressing the side of your face with it— not that it could really be called a caress, all rigid and cold like that… “Say please.”
“Huh?”
“Say please,” he repeated, “beg me not to hurt you.”
“Already are,” you sneered at him, but he pressed the knife to your neck with a little more intention— a little more pressure, a wild look in his eyes suddenly— as he insisted again.
“Wanna hear you beg,” he spat. “Do it or Piggy might hurt you worse.”
“Please, please,” you whispered shakily, shutting your eyes. “Please don’t, Darren…”
You gasped sharply as he pressed the knife down just enough to draw a thin line of blood, only to pull the blade away and lick hungrily at the wound. Feeling dizzy and sick, you winced at the sting of his tongue lapping at your pierced skin, lips wrapping around and suckling as teeth dug painfully into your pulse.
He thrusted faster, recklessly so, and bit down on his lip as he breathed heavier. You were too focused on how painfully deep he was going to really process anything when he started to slow down— that is, you felt that he was slowing down, and didn’t think for a minute about why he was slowing down.
His loud, low groan gave it away; you snapped back to reality and looked up at him in a new kind of fear. “Fuck, Darren, did you just—?!” you whimpered, squirming harder as you realised what he’d done.
“Shh, shh,” he soothed you sharply, hissing as he grabbed a tight hold of your hip. “Stay fuckin’ still, girl— fuck, I’m still coming—”
You yelped and tried harder to fight him off, but he kept you pinned down easily, even forcing you into a rough and sloppy kiss.
He sighed into it after a second, relaxing on top of you until it was a little hard to breathe under his weight. You whined and tried to break away, but the hand with the knife still in it held your jaw, the cold metal pressing threateningly against your face.
Whimpering and blinking up at him, you met his icy gaze and he smiled proudly down at you. “Little devil, eh?” he smirked as he toyed with your horned headband, which had become quite dishevelled from all the running and struggling. “Your blood matches the outfit— poor whore, red all over…”
“Darren,” you choked, fighting a sob of disbelief as you felt him pull out of you with a hiss— a steady, sticky leak giving away how much he’d come. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Don’t be fussin’, girl, like I said,” he rolled his eyes, though he was still grinning wide. “Ready to go back to the party now? Or do you just want Pig to take y’home, sweetheart?”
#darren pig x reader#disco pigs#cillian murphy x reader#darren pig smut#darren pig dark!fic#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy dark!fic
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