#I read this months ago and this sentence lives inside of me now

[tworegimesof]

"He's gotten into you and he knows how to manipulate your limbs with his big naked hands."

Kathy Acker, Florida

[miguelhugger2099]

The Best Thing

Summary: Miguel O'Hara, star Quarter back of the Nueva York Spiders, lives lavishly with all he could want. What he didn't want is a little girl popping up at his doorstep claiming to be his daughter. The Game Plan AU. <<Prev Next>> Football Player!Miguel x Ballet Teacher!Reader, Gabriella is Miguel's daughter, No warnings Art: rusticfurnace on twt and ethiobirds on tumblr!

Miguel sits in front of Gabriella, leaning on his knees with his elbows. Gabriella stares back at him with wide eyes. She tries to give him a weak smile but it drops when Miguel takes a deep sigh, his leg shaking. Then in a hysterical chuckle, he shakes his head. “No, no. No!” Miguel’s gaze hardened at the little girl. “Tempest and I never had a kid.” His jaw clenches. Gabriella stands up and walks over to him, her hand rummaging through the big pink tote bag at her side. She pulls out a white envelope. “She wrote you a note.” She says plainly before walking past him to take a better look around his penthouse. Miguel snatches the envelope with a dry chuckle and tears it open without a care. “A note,” He chuckles again. His deep maroon eyes read the printed letters, his ex-wife's signature at the bottom. “Miggy, I know this is a surprise but Gabriella is your daughter. I need you to watch her for a month as it’s an emergency. I’ll explain when I get back….Tempest.” Miguel reads aloud, his tone softening and he sighs at the end.

Gabriella stares at all the pictures of Miguel plastered over the shelves and walls. She tries copying some expressions, frowning in some and pouting in others. Her attention is snatched back to Miguel when he calls out to her. He waves the envelope in the air. “You expect me to believe Tempest wrote this? That this automatically makes you my kid? Anyone could’ve written this!”

Gabreilla sighs again, reaching into her tote bag. “Here’s my birth certificate.” She hands him a sealed yellow packet and walks away again. “And your name is on it.” Miguel can only chuckle again. “My name? On your–there’s no way.” He slips the paper out of the packet and sees the fine print. For a moment, he prays Gabriella is dyslexic and confused his name with someone else. Gabriella Monroe. Father: Miguel O’Hara His leg shakes anxiously as he takes his cell phone and calls up his most trusted confidant. “Get here. Now.”

– A woman with bobbed brown hair and thick pink sunglasses bursts through his doors. Her white heels clack on the tile floor as he keeps one hand in her fluffy white trench coat and the other holding her phone. Her unamused eyes meet Miguel’s panicked ones as soon as she steps inside. Miguel gulps. “Fix this, Lyla.” He steps away to show Gabriella sitting at his kitchen island, delicately brushing her doll's hair. Lyla gasps and nearly drops her phone, covering her mouth in shock which prompts Gabriella to jump as well. Lyla drags Miguel to the side, her manicured nails digging into his bicep. “It would’ve been nice to know this early on.” She hisses as low as possible so the child in the room doesn’t hear. “I didn’t know!” Miguel hisses back and Lyla resists the urge to roll her eyes. “You didn’t know you had an ex-wife?”

Miguel waves his hand, dismissing her sarcasm. “It was a long time ago–we were young and stupid. We thought we were in love but it-it didn’t last for a year! And we never had a baby.” He emphasizes the last part of his sentence, brows furrowing and voice oozing with conviction. Lyla smiles tightly, not believing him for a moment. With Miguel’s rep, she’s more surprised there haven't been more baby scares. “Okay, Migs.” She chuckles, taking a deep breath, her hands clasping together. “Is there just any possibility–even the tiniest ones– where she could be yours?” She asks. She sees Miguel about to answer. “Really think about it.” Miguel looks up, digging through his brain in a panic. “I-I don’t know! We went through the papers, the divorce was final. She-she came by to pick up some of her things at my place and she-we-we…” Miguel falters, brows relaxing as the memories rush back. His eyes widen slightly–her lips, her voice, the anger and frustration and love that needed to be released for one last time. Miguel chuckles and pats his stomach, looking towards Gabriella and pointing at her. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.” He walks over to the fridge but Lylas accusing tone stops him from opening it. “I’m sorry, when did that ‘she-we-we’ happen?” She follows behind him and watches as Miguel bonks his head on the fridge door before grunting and facing Lyla again. “Like nine or ten years ago.” He whispers. Lyla turns to Gabriella with a smile. “How old are you, sweetheart?” Gabreilla perks up. “Nine.” Both Lyla and Miguel deflate. “Congrats, Migs.” Lyla says monotonically.

“Oh, God–” Miguel groans and rubs his face with frustration as he walks away to pace in the living room. Meanwhile, Lyla tries some damage control. She approaches Gabriella on the other side of the island, leaning her elbows on the marble counter and placing her chin in between her laced fingers. “Hi, sweetpea, let’s talk. So, the letter says your mom isn’t coming back for a month. Did she just decide to leave you here?” She asks, her smile tight. “She’s helping the starving kids–” Gabriella starts but Lyla cuts her off. “I’m not trying to hear that.” She says flatly. “Did she just decide to leave you here?” “I begged her.” Gabriella swings her feet as she sits in the high chair. “I said ‘Well, why don’t I stay with my father?’ and she said ‘Well, baby, he doesn’t know about you ye–” Lyla interrupts her with a groan, her hands waving in the air with a hint of annoyance. “I get it, I get it, whatever. Then who else can you stay with?” She sighs. Miguel claps his hands from the living room, approaching the two with a smug laugh. “I got it! Haha, Tempest has her mom..uh..Keke…Alicia…” Miguel lists off names, trying to remember the name of his ex-mother-in-law. “Amelia!”

Gabriella inches an eyebrow up, a shadow of annoyance. “Cecelia.” She corrects. “Cecelia!” Miguel laughs, shaking little Gabriella’s shoulder. “Same thing.” He mutters under his breath with a smile. “What about her?” Gabriella looks down, her fingers nervously wringing together. “She’s, um…she’s dead.” Lyla scoffs, resting her hands on her hips and stretching her lower back. “That’s convenient.” Both Miguel and Gabriella look up towards her, silently judging. Lyla pouts, flicking her bangs away from her face. “What?” She whines before staring back at Gabriella. “Does your mom have a phone? Email?” Gabriella shakes her head. “They don’t have internet there.” Lyla pokes her cheek with her tongue and crosses her arms. “How did you get here again?” “We flew to Nueva York here together and then she put me in a cab.” Gabriella recites her story for the billionth time. “And the cab just somehow dropped you off at some man’s house?” “Not some man! My father!” The little girl insists. Lyla points at her as if catching her in a lie. “So you say!” Gabriella frowns, her bushy eyebrows furrowing and her nose scrunching up. “Want a paternity test?” Miguel chimes in, oblivious. “That’s a great idea! Let’s do that.” Lyla meets Miguel’s eyes in a panic, shaking her head. She tilts her head to talk a little away from Gabriella. “As long as they don’t have needles, I’m–heh–I’m not good with those.”

Lyla grabs his arm again, dragging him close as she whispers to him. “Not in the middle of negotiating with our Patrick’s Burgers deal. If you take the test there’s a high chance it’ll get out to the press and the public will hate you for ditching your kid–if it turns out to be true–and all of our money will go down the drain.” Lyla sighs, bringing her hands up to rub her temples. “Lyla. Lyla-” Miguel turns to take Gabriella’s seat, spinning her to face Lyla and they both look at the incredibly stressed woman. “We don’t even look alike.” Miguel smiles his pearly whites, Gabriella looking at him for a glance before looking at Lyla again. She matches Miguel’s smile lines, the plump lips, and shiny gleam in her big brown eyes–a missing tooth in her grin. “Oh no,” Lyla draws out with sarcasm. “Not at all.”

The world still spins, with Miguel having practice to go to until it was so rudely interrupted by a 4 foot girl. He walks out of his apartment building, the doorman that had called Miguel about Gabriella in the first place standing outside. Miguel huffs in annoyance, his daughter behind him and now in his care. “Thanks for the heads up, Larry.” Larry barks a laugh, whistling for the other doorman to bring in Miguel’s car. “Told ya she was cute.” He cackles. Miguel’s car pulls up, the driver door being lifted up and Miguel gets in. He opens the passenger door for Gabriella, tsking. He ushers her to hurry inside. “C’mon, let's go.” He snaps. Gabriella looks inside the car and shakes her head. “No backseat.” “So what?” His face contorts, irritated. “If we get in an accident, the airbag will hurt me.” She clings to her tote bag strap tightly to her chest. Miguel bangs his head back. “I don’t have time for this, please.” Still, Gabriella crosses her arms, stubborn and planting her feet in the ground. Miguel settles for putting his football helmet on top of her head and it flops forward, covering her eyes. On the way to practice, Miguel is asked questions by Gabriella. “I’ve got four weeks to make up for eight years, mkay?” She pulls out a binder from her tote bag, flipping open the book to a page of messy handwritten questions. “It’s simple: I ask, you answer.” She lifts the helmet on her head up so she can see what she’s writing.

“So for example, if you asked me my favorite thing to do, I’d answer with ballet. Now, what’s yours?” “Football.” He grunts, honking his horn and shouting at the traffic while she writes in her binder. “And if you could only save one thing in a fire, what would it be?” “My Heisman.” Before Gabriella could write it down, Miguel interrupts her. “No, no, no, wait.” He lifts a finger and smiles. “My limited edition Miguel O’Hara Spider Sneakers.” Gabriella rolls her eyes. For the remainder of the ride, Gabriella continues to ask questions and they feel endless. Miguel gets tired of it, telling her no more but she insists. “Just one more question.” She perks up, shuffling in her seat and lifting the helmet up slightly to look up at him. “What’s the best thing that ever happened to you?” Miguel sighs, kissing his teeth and can’t shake off the feeling he’s had for a hot minute. “Hey, I got a question for you. Why didn’t your mom just bring you here herself?” Gabriella’s smile drops and she looks down in her lap. Her eyes cast towards her tote bag and she smiles again. Her hand digs inside and she pulls out a tupperware box of cookies and presents it to him. “Want a cookie?” She squeaks. Miguel tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “No, I don’t want a cookie and stop avoiding the question.” “But you said you were hungry.” She frowns and lifts the box higher after popping the top open. “And I made them special for you.” “Ugh, fine, fine. Gimme that..” Miguel shoves his hand to grab a cookie, taking a giant bite out of it. “Your mom.” He reminds her, mouth full of cookie. “I told you it was last minute..” She fiddles with a crumb.

“I just can’t believe Tempest would do something like that. Letting her daughter just appear all alone–it doesn’t sound like her.” He mutters out loud to himself. He coughs after taking another bite of Gabriella’s cookie, scratching his tongue with teeth. Does it feel a little swollen? Still, he speaks his mind. “I know what happened.” Gabriella winces, peeking meekly through the front guard of the helmet. “You do?” Miguel coughs. “She screwed up her hair again, didn’t she? Hiding away in embarrassment?” “No.” She grimaces. “All that bleach and dye finally destroyed her curls, didn’t it?” Miguel checks his mouth, feeling strange but he still ends up finishing his cookie. By the time Miguel changed into his uniform, his mouth had gotten worse, his tongue swollen and giving him a lisp. They both enter the field house, Miguel’s tongue still bothering him while Gabriella walks behind him, her head swiveling around to soak in the place. Miguel annoyingly looks behind him, to see her lingering behind. “Let’s go!” He slurs and her little legs hurry to stand beside him. “What do you think, you can just roam around safely or something? Stay close, little lady.” He speaks, his lisp becoming more apparent.

“Are you okay?” Gabriella frowns, tilting her head. “Do I sound okay?” Miguel snaps, bending down to her height. “What’d you put in those cookies?” He jabs a finger to her tiny bag. “Milk, flour, eggs and cinnamon-” “Cinnamon?! Cinna–I’m allergic to cinnamon!” He hisses through his lisp. Gabriella’s face falls, genuine remorse crossing her face but Miguel is too peeved to notice or even care. “Oh, I’m sorry…” “Oh, ‘I’m sorry’? All you gotta say is ‘I’m sorry’? I sound like this and you’re ‘sorry’?” He stands up straighter, glaring down at her and shaking his head before walking away. Gabriella watches his back as he walks away. “I’m allergic to nuts!” She calls out, hoping that information would help him feel better–or at least be a little useful. It seems to fall flat.

Taglist: <3: @maiyart @aphinthestars @byjessicalotufo @mochi73 @peachey-pie @beezusvreeland @scorpihoooe @having-a-time @slut4oscarissac23 @iamperson12280 @planetxella @fandomtrash5092 @miguelsfavwife @juneonhoth

[imtryingbuck]

Divorce Came With A Price

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: it’s been 6 months since he last saw you.

Word count: 1295

Warnings: Angst, I’m sorry. Death, cancer, suicide – please don’t read if the warnings upset you.

A/N: my mum cried when she read this.

Masterlist

Part 1

It’s been 6 months since Bucky last saw you, he’s hated it. He misses you. He misses your beautiful face, the way your smile makes his heart tingle. Misses the way your eyes shines brightly when you’re talking about your hobbies and interests. Misses the feel of your soft skin under his calloused hands. He just misses the love of his life, his other half - his sweet perfect wife. 

He remembers how your smile dropped as he tells you he wanted a divorce. Remembers the heartbreakingly look in your eyes as he told he’d been having an affair. That one look has haunted his dreams, his every waking moment. He can still feel the acid in his throat as he wills himself to nod as you ask that one question. Nothing more nothing less. You just wanted that one question to be answered and he couldn’t even look at you let alone answer verbally. He didn’t even know you left the house until the divorce hearing; he watched you walk away with Matt and Foggy wishing he could say something but nothing comes out. He watched as your feet falter when you see Carly. He knows exactly what you’re thinking.

But It’s over now.

It’s over now and he can get you back.

It’s over now and he’s hoping and praying that you’ll understand and forgive him.

It’s over now and he’s going to move heaven and earth to have his love back in his arms.

He finds out you’ve been staying with Matt since he broke both of your hearts. How does he do this? How does he knock on the door hoping that neither one of you punches him in the face (not that he doesn’t deserve it) he just hopes you’ll listen to him.

Bucky walks into the florist to get the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers he can get. 

The skies start to turn dark even with the sun shining brightly, if he didn’t know any better he’d think it was forewarning for what’s to come.

Knocking on the wooden door it’s Matt that greats him. “What? What are you doing here” if Bucky wasn’t a super soldier he’d be scared with the tone in Matts voice.

“I-um I need to see Y-Y/N. Please”

“She’s not here. She’s not here anymore” Bucky can’t understand why Matt sounds broken.

“Well um where does she live now?” He’s trying not to stumble off his words.

“No James you don’t understand” Matt looks up towards the ceiling then continues but doesn’t get the chance.

“What do you mean I don’t understand? Matt look I know you hate me for what I did to Y/N but I had a reason, I just need to see her to explain it to her. Please Matt just tell me where she lives”. He begging and pleading and it’s clear as day in the way his voice wavers.

Matt speaks in a fast manner “Get inside before Ms Jenson comes out and complains” 

The apartments a mess, there’s takeaway boxes laying around, the sinks full of pots and there’s trash overflowing in the bin. The apartment looks nothing like it did 8 months prior when Y/N and himself went round for a double date with Matt and some woman he can’t remember the name of. Matt sits down and lazily waves his arm round for Bucky to sit to.

“Matt wher-“ he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“James she’s gone, she’s dead.” The air is cut off. The room is spinning. His world has ended. He doesn’t know what to do or say so he stares blankly at Matt waiting for the punchline of a joke that isn’t even remotely funny. Matt understands he needs to say more so he does. “That day you told her you wanted a divorce to be with your side piece she’d been at the hospital for her results. It was cancer. Terminal. She’d been told she had about 6 months to a year left. Her insurance didn’t cover her medical expenses so she stopped treatment, I told her I would pay but you know what she’s like-was like. 3 weeks ago she made me go out on a date with Karen she said she’d be fine and made me promise I’d have a good time. I got home around 11 and went to bed. The next morning, I couldn’t hear her walking around, so I went into her room, she um she’d taken pills, enough to end her life. It was too late to do anything, they said she’d been gone for 18 hours. Id only been gone for an hour” tears stream down both of the men’s faces. Matt struggles to continues “she begged me not to say anything to you, she didn’t want to get in the way of your relationship. She thought if you knew you’d change your mind and not divorce her just because she was dying. Y/N begged me James so I couldn’t I couldn’t do that to her-“ Bucky cuts him off. 

“I didn’t have an affair. I swear. Hydra was after me again and I had to divorce Y/N so she wouldn’t get hurt. I told her I had an affair so she would divorce me, I knew cheating was a deal breaker so I lied. I fucking lied and she’s dead. I lied and she’s not even going to know the truth.” He tries so hard to continue but can’t his airway is closing up. He passes out.

10 years have been and gone, the pain of losing the only person he has ever loved didn’t stop not that he wants it to. Bucky wants to remember the pain. 

In the 10 years that have passed he’s visits your grave every Friday, wedding anniversary, the date you two got together, the date he proposed, your birthday and on Christmas. After the fifth year Steve told him he needed to move on, and well long story short they had a fight and Bucky cried saying he couldn’t move on. In the end everyone around him understood that he would never move on from the love of his life. He sits there no matter the weather and talks to you for hours. He told you Matt and Karen were having a baby girl, then told you they named her after you. Told you all about his cat Alpine. After every visit without fail or another thought he tells you he loves you and can’t wait to see you again.

It’s been 10 years 5 months 12 days since you passed away and Bucky’s on his way to see you.

He’s on a mission that’s gone horribly wrong he’s been shot too many times. He’s so tired and Steve’s trying to get him to stay awake but it’s no use.

“Stevie p-please stop. I w-wan-t to be w-ith my Y-Y/N I need to be with h-er” Even though Bucky gasps for breaths his voice is strong enough to let Steve and the team know that this is what he wants. Steve gives him a slow nod with tears sliding down his cheeks, he clasps hands with his best friend and keeps locked tight long after Bucky takes his last breath.

He leaves the world with a smile on his face.

You stand there waiting for him and as soon as you lock eyes with him you’re running. Jumping into his arms and before he can say anything you kiss him. Hard. After you separate you tell him you know the truth. You heard him every time he would visit your grave. You tell each other how much you love one another. You take his hand and lead him into your new life.

Tags: @learisa @bruher @pattiemac1 @kentokaze @almosttoopizza @yvessaintmuerte

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. 1

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist |

summary: When you let your new neighbor’s daughter inside to call her father from your landline, you never expect to be dealing with the fallout twenty years later. Series will take place before and after the outbreak, and is partially inspired by this request. Slow-burn(ish), eventual smut. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 6.4k chapter warnings: mentions of/encounters with a drunk person, references to absent parents, i imply that both reader (and joel) like pineapple on pizza. a/n: i need to get my shit together and make a proper masterlist/post for this series but i'm absolute garbage with photoshop/making collages so that is a project for another day!! for now, i wanted to get this first part out to ya'll. i watched a playthrough of the game too so ill be including some references to that throughout the series. this will be some hallmark-movie ass romance so strap in!! this chapter was super fun to write and i loved writing for reader and sarah, give it a read and let me know what you think!

-March 7, 2003- 

“Excuse me? Ma’am? Excuse me?”

The voice behind you is so timid you don’t hear it right away, especially not when your phone is pressed to your ear with your shoulder as you sort through the mail, your coworker droning on and on…

“Ma’am?” 

It’s a little more forceful this time, a little closer too, and that’s when it finally gets your attention. Turning around on your heel, you find a young girl standing behind you, one hand hooked in the strap of her backpack that hangs off of one thin shoulder, the other worrying about the butterfly pendant of the necklace she’s wearing. 

You recognize her immediately as one of your neighbors, the girl from across the street whose name you didn’t know yet, because you only moved in about two months ago. You’d met the man who you assumed was her father – Joe? Or was it Joel?, you couldn’t remember – the first day you’d moved in, but there had been so much going on that you were too flustered to be engaged.

It’s a Friday, but apparently that doesn’t keep you safe from work calls after you leave the office, because you’re getting an earful of a whole lot of hot air, so much so that you’re probably unintentionally frowning at the girl in front of you while you try to follow the conversation.

“....I think you’re right, but they’re not going to budge unless we sweeten the deal somehow-”

“Can I call you back?” you blurt, ultimately thankful for the interruption. You don’t even wait for his response before you click off your blackberry, sighing, looking up. “Hi, yeah, sorry. Can I help you?”

“Uhm, I’m Sarah…..Miller….I live across the street?” her voice goes up slightly at the end of the sentence, like she’s unsure, even as she points to the home behind her, a two-story place that’s considerably bigger than your own, but maybe a little older. “I uhm…I locked myself out and I was wondering if I could use your phone…to call my dad at work? Please?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “That’s fine. Just uh..follow me I guess.”

Tucking the stack of mail in your hand under your arm, you wave her after you, your kitten heels clicking on the hard pavement of your driveway. 

“Be careful here,” you warn her as you step over the middle step to your front porch that has rotted, and gives easily under any amount of weight. You’d learned about it the hard way, last week, and still had the bruise on your leg to show for it. 

Your front door is open, and Sarah pauses to take off her shoes when you do, a pair of beat-up white Converse that have been doodled on in Sharpie.

“Here, phone’s right there,” you lead her into the kitchen and point to the landline. “Can I get you anything to drink?” 

“Uhm, could I just get some water…please?” She stands rigidly in your kitchen, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Of course,” you reach into the cabinet. Once the glass is filled and placed in front of her, you retreat to your front living area to give her some privacy while she makes the call, sitting on the couch and scrolling through unanswered emails on your blackberry. Sarah mumbles indiscreetly, until you hear her call out again. 

“Uhm…ma’am…I’m sorry, Miss…uh-what’s your last name?”

“Oh,” you sit up, giving her your first instead. 

“Okay….Uh, my dad wants to talk to you…could you-”

“Sure,” you stand, stepping back into the kitchen, and accepting the receiver from the girl. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Joel Miller,” you’re greeted with a low, gruff drawl. “You’re the new neighbor, I believe introduced myself a while back”

“Joel,” you repeat. It’s Joel. Joel, Joel, Joel, you force yourself to remember. Joel and Sarah Miller. “Yes, we met very briefly.”

“And it sounds like you met Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

On the other end of the line, you hear him hesitate, let out a long sigh. “Look, I hate to put you out, but she lost her key to the house, and she tells me the Adlers aren’t home. Do you think she could stay at your place until I’m able to get off work in a couple hours? I know it’s a big ask, but-”

“Of course she can,” you cut him off, peering over your shoulder at Sarah, who’s staring up at you expectantly with wide, terrified eyes. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“She’s probably got homework so I’ll make sure she stays quiet and out of your way. I’m so sorry, she should know better than this. It’s the second time this month this has happened, I keep tellin’ her-”

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal,” you cut him off, unintentionally, before wondering if it was rude you didn’t let him finish. It’s the native New Yorker in you, always in a rush and uninterested in drawn-out excuses. It’s an unfortunate instinct you’ve been trying to train yourself out of, particularly now that you’re living in the southwest. You soften your tone. “She can stay as long as she needs to, seriously. I don’t have anything planned.”

“Okay,” the voice on the other end sounds relieved. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I should be home by nine, I’ll call if anything changes. Thanks so much.”

“Of course, we’ll be fine. See you soon.” You hang up. 

Sarah is still behind you when you turn around, clutching the glass of water she’s got in both hands like a vice. “You can stay here until your dad gets home,” you tell her. 

“Did….did he sound mad?”

“Maybe a little stressed,” you’re honest. “But….not mad. I also don’t know him, so…”

“I bet he’ll be mad. This is the second time I’ve locked myself out this month because I forgot my key, and I already got lectured once that last time because he had to leave work early.”

“You made a mistake, people forget things…” you shrug. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

Her shoulders relax slightly, and she looks around like it’s the first time she’s actually registered where she’s at. “You have a nice house. It’s cozy.” 

“Thanks,” you put your hands on your hips and look around too. “I’m still settling in, so not everything’s unpacked, but I could give you a tour if you’d like?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Ma’am. That tickles you. The address is still not something you’re used to hearing, even though you’ve only been in Austin a few years. “You can just call me by my first name, you know? Ma’am makes me feel old.”

“Really?” she grins, following you down the hall. “I can’t wait to be old.”

“You’ll feel differently someday,” you answer. “But…I guess it’s not so bad.”

Compared to the house you grew up in, your new house is nothing special, but it’s yours, and you couldn’t be prouder that you’d bought it all on your own. It’s a three-bedroom ranch, and you’d converted one of the rooms into an office for yourself. There’s a kitchen, living room, and den. But your favorite part is your large, screened in back porch that overlooks your yard. Now that it’s getting closer to summer, you sit outside in the mornings with a cup of tea and read the newspaper, listen to the birds. 

“Can I do my homework at your kitchen table?” Sarah asks once you’re finished showing her around.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever,” you answer. “I could probably stand to get a little work done myself.”

Sarah sits at your dining room table, spreads out her books, and works quietly while you answer some emails and look over some contracts. You’ve got a big meeting Monday with a potential client, and a giant stack of term sheets to go through, but if you could manage to get some of it done tonight it might actually help you down the line. As much as possible, you try to avoid doing too much work outside of your office’s standard hours, but sometimes, it’s inevitable.

The subject Sarah has homework in is algebra, which renders you useless. Even when you have to do any accounting at work, you’re used to having a calculator nearby. It’d been awhile since you spent time with anyone as young as she was – in sixth grade, she told you – and it was starting to serve as a confirmation of your own dysfunctional childhood, because her carefree, sweet nature was so drastically different from anything you remembered feeling. 

After about an hour, Sarah slowly starts to close her notebooks, zipping her pencils back up in plastic pouches. You look up from making revisions on a contract, the smell of blue ink heavy in the air around you. “I’m done,” she announces. “Could I sit on your couch and read?”

“Of course,” you answer. “Give me five and I’ll join you.”

It doesn’t take long for you to find a good stopping point, and you pack up your messenger bag, and join Sarah in the living room. “So…I’m starting to get hungry,” you tell her. “Are you?”

Sarah nods sheepishly.

“I could order us something,” you said. “What do you like?”

You aren’t much of a chef, though you can generally figure your way out around any recipe. However, cooking for one is notoriously tedious. If you had multiple mouths to feed, maybe you’d be tempted to hone your skills in the kitchen a little more. Most nights you usually treated yourself to a depressing, hastily thrown together salad, scrambled eggs, or a PB&J. Tonight, you had actually been planning to take yourself out to dinner – there’s a cute little French bistro down the street and you were hoping to treat yourself to a cocktail and a nice meal while you read.

Sarah closes her book, contemplating. “Could we….get a pizza?”

You think about it. “Sure, yeah. Pepperoni…cheese?”

“Can we get….one of both?” she tests. 

“Yeah, we can do both,” You smile. “I bet your dad will be hungry, too, he can have some if he wants.”

“Maybe…he likes pineapple on his,” Sarah wrinkles her nose.

“He has good taste. I do too.”

“Gross.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them separate,” you call over your shoulder as you retreat to the kitchen. 

Once the pizza is ordered, you return to your living room and curl up on the opposite side of the couch from Sarah, who is engrossed back in her book. “They told me about 30 minutes. What are you reading?”

“To Kill A Mockingbird,” she says, showing you the cover. 

“That was one of my favorites growing up.”

“I have to read it for school…but it’s pretty good so far.”

Your phone pings with another email, and you glance at it quickly. 

“Is that work?” she asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. It still finds you, even when you leave.”

“What do you do?” 

“I’m a lawyer.”

“No way!” Sarah perks up. “Like on the tv shows? That’s so cool.” 

You snort, shaking your head. “No, not exactly. I’m a corporate lawyer so it’s not as fun, actually, it’s just a lot of paperwork and meetings…”

“So…you don’t like it, then?”

“It’s….” you think about it. “....Fine.” Did you like your job? It wasn’t really something you thought about in that way, you’d always seen it as a means to an end. “I went to law school because my dad wanted me to…he wanted me to work for him someday. And…that didn’t pan out so…yeah. But you know…it pays well, and….”

“You get to wear cool outfits,” she gestures to you.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Although the heels do get a little uncomfortable.”

Sarah’s eyes shift behind you for a second to the hallway leading to your bedroom, then widen excitedly. “You have a cat?” 

You turn around to see what she’s looking at, the white and gray ball of fluff that you’d found underneath a dumpster one late night in college. 

“Yeah, that’s Martini.”

“Martini,” she giggles, and the cat approaches her cautiously. He’s notoriously shy and quiet, and not even particularly cuddly, but he likes to sleep at the foot of your bed and will sit next to you on the couch if you stay still for long enough.

The cat sniffs Sarah’s outstretched hand, then presses his face into Sarah’s palm so she can scratch him under his chin, his favorite spot. “He’s not usually a fan of strangers, he must like you.”

“I love animals,” she says. “My dad won’t let me get a pet because he says he’ll end up taking care of it.”

You chuckle. “Cats are pretty easy…at least, he is.”

Martini allows himself about twenty seconds worth of affection before he darts out of the room and heads to his food bowl. 

“I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes, I’ll be right back,” you push yourself off the couch and walk down the hallway. Any other night and you probably would’ve been in pajamas awhile ago but that’s probably not acceptable, so you settle for jeans and a sweater, which is much more comfortable than the dress and tights you had been in before. 

The pizza arrives and after you tip the driver, set it on your kitchen island and pull some plates out of your cupboard. You and Sarah are both long settled with full plates when you speak again. 

“Wow….I forgot how good pizza is…” you say, staring at the half eaten piece in your hand. 

“You don’t eat pizza?”

“Usually only when I’m drunk,” you say, then immediately realize you’re talking to an eleven year old. “Oops, I…probably shouldn’t be telling you that.”

She giggles. “It’s okay.”

“So, it’s just you and your dad across the street?” you ask. “Does your mom live with you?” 

The second the question registers, you immediately regret asking. Sarah shrinks before you, her face dropping, shaking her head. “No I…I don’t really have a mom.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, softly. You just assumed she existed although you’d never seen her, and you feel guilty, racking your brain for something that might help make her feel better. “I understand, my mom wasn’t really around growing up.”

“She wasn’t?” Sarah asked, looking up. 

You shake your head.  “My parents got divorced when I was young, my dad took us, and she moved across the country, so….I didn’t see much of her.”

“My mom… she left when I was a baby.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, staring at the girl in front of you. 

For a moment, looking at her, you see yourself, and you wonder how a parent can wake up one day and choose to ignore someone that’s one half of themselves. Someone they made. If they really understood what that might do to a person’s psyche, growing up thinking that they weren’t wanted. You had always told yourself that your mother, your parents must have not understood, because if they did, and they still chose to do it…

“Are you married?” Sarah asks, and you’re snapped out of your train of thought.

Taking a bite of pizza, you shake your head no.

“So you live here alone?” 

You nod, chewing.

“Do you like it?”

You nod, swallow. “It’s better than having a roommate, or living in the city.” 

Standing up, you walk towards the fridge for a can of sparkling water. It hisses while you open it, and you lean over the counter while Sarah continues to drill you. “Do you ever get….scared? Like at night?” 

“No….not really. I have locks. And this is a safe neighborhood. And uh, I may or may not have a nightlight still.”

Sarah giggles. “Me too.”

There’s a sturdy knock on your screen door, which you’d left open to let in the cool spring breeze, and you notice Sarah’s eyes widen. “I bet that’s my dad.”

As if he heard her, and maybe he did, the guest calls out. “It’s Joel!” It’s the same voice from over the phone, but much clearer. 

“Come in,” you answer.

The screen door creaks open, the sound of boots shuffling inside. “Sarah?” It’s the same voice from the phone. Joel steps into the warm light of the kitchen.

When you first met it had been from a distance, you were carrying boxes and he was loading something into the back of his truck. It’s clear you hadn’t gotten a good enough look at him, wouldn’t have forgotten his name, because fuck, he’s kind of gorgeous…tan skin, dark wavy hair, and a sharp jawline covered in stubble. In the archway to your kitchen he looks huge, taller than you remembered.

“Hi Dad,” Sarah says. “Miss-“

You cut her off simply by saying your first name. “Nice to meet you…again.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, and thank you so much for keeping an eye on her. We’ll get out of your ha-”

“We got you pizza,” Sarah pipes up, looking at him. You can tell that she’s trying to stall. Or at least, trying to offer him something that might soften the inevitable lecture she’s going to get. It’s a smart play, and definitely not something you would’ve been above trying at her age.

Joel looks at the three pizza boxes spread across your countertop. “You didn’t have to feed her, really, like I said, she should’ve known better,” he turns to look at her pointedly.

“I had to eat anyway. Please, help yourself. There’s a ton of leftovers,” You really did not want cold pizza in your fridge, because it’d be too tempting to eat as a late night snack or even breakfast on your way out the door in the mornings.

Reluctantly, he looks at you before taking a plate. “Thank you,” he turns to his daughter while he opens one of the boxes. “Did you get your homework done?” 

Sarah nods. “And I got ahead on my reading for English.”

“That’s good.” 

Joel turns back to you, settles in a chair with the plate of food in front of him at the island. You do the same. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to come over and properly introduce myself. Sarah too.”

You shrug. “I’m the new neighbor, that’s probably my responsibility anyways. It’s been kind of hectic settling in.”

“Where’d you move from?”

“Well, I’ve been in Austin for the past few years, but originally I’m from Manhattan.”

Joel nods. “Why Texas?” 

It’s far away from my insane family, you think, and then settle on something else. “Work.”

Sarah is staring at her plate and tearing a piece of crust into tiny pieces. Joel eyes the slice of pizza he’s just taken a bite of.

“Pineapple?” he looks over at Sarah. “Are you tryin’ to bribe me so you don’t get in trouble?”

“It’s my favorite, too,” you offer, then wink at Sarah when Joel isn’t looking. She tilts her head down, her hair hiding the grin on her face from her father.

A buzzing sound cuts through the room before Joel can answer, and he digs in his pocket to fish out his cell phone. “Hold on, I gotta take this.”

When he steps out of the room, you begin to clear the empty boxes and plates off your kitchen island and bring them over to the sink. Sarah brings her plate over as well, stands next to you at the sink while you rinse them off and load them in the dishwasher. 

“Thank you for dinner,” she says. 

“Of course,” you answer.

“I just really hope he’s not disappointed with me.”

Placing your hand between her shoulder blades, you give her an encouraging pat. “I don’t think he is….” you hear Joel on the phone in the other room, his voice rising in volume. “....and honestly….it sounds like he might have bigger fish to fry…”

“Tommy…are you fucking kidding me? Again? How many times is this gonna happen? Okay…fine. fine. I’ll be there soon, but you can’t keep doing this shit.”

Sarah grimaces, and you both turn back to the sink sheepishly when you hear Joel’s footsteps returning. She bumps you with her elbow while you clear your throat. 

You’re sure there’s still a residual smile on your face when you turn around to face Joel, who has his hands on his hips. “Alright, Sarah, we gotta get going.”

“Is everything okay with Uncle Tommy?” 

“No, I’ve gotta pick him up at the police station.” 

“Did he drink too much again?”

“Sarah!” Joel exclaims. “Please, it’s gettin’ late and you’ve got a soccer game tomorrow, you need to get to bed.”

You’re biting your lower lip so hard to keep from laughing you almost taste blood. It’s not funny, definitely not funny to Joel, who you can tell is having a rough night, but it’s objectively funny as an outsider, watching all their familial drama being put on blast by his daughter who doesn’t quite have a filter yet, and is first and foremost trying to protect herself from getting into trouble.

“She’s a lawyer, I bet she could help Tommy,” Sarah looks over at you. “Couldn’t you?”

Joel frowns. “That’s not how that works-”

“What’d they bring him in for?” you ask. 

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Public intoxication. Are you really a lawyer?”

“Well…I’m a corporate lawyer so that wouldn’t really be my specialty. But uh…I’ve definitely been able to talk my friends out of that kind of thing before.”

“But this is not the first time,” Joel says. “It’s probably useless.” 

“Didn’t you say you can’t afford to keep-”

“Sarah, enough.” Joel’s voice is as stern as you’ve heard it, and he digs into his pocket, producing a keychain. “Go home and get ready for bed. I’ll be home in a minute.”

Sarah sighs, defeated. “Okay.” 

Joel stands dead still while she shuffles to the door, cramming her feet in her shoes with her backpack slung over her shoulder. 

By this point in the evening, you’d usually be curled up on your couch by the fireplace with your latest knitting project, moderately stoned, watching bad reality television and sipping sleepytime herbal tea. But your night has already gone drastically different from your expectation. Why stop now? “If you wanted…I could try to help.”

Joel shakes his head, looks at the floor. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t ask,” you shrug. “I offered.”

He looks up, a soft smile breaks across his face, revealing a row of straight, sparkling teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It’s the first sincere smile you’ve ever seen from him, and your knees feel a little weak at the sight of it. You think you might offer him anything just to see it again. “It’d be a huge favor. But….I’d appreciate it.”

“Alright well…” you look around, push yourself off the countertop. “I probably should change before we go. I don’t think I’ll be taken seriously in this.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I need to make sure Sarah gets to bed alright, how ‘bout you meet me on my porch in ten?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks again,” he raps his knuckles on the counter twice before retreating, and you stay in place until you hear the screen door close behind him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I feel like you’re meeting us all at a very chaotic time….I promise, things aren’t usually like this.” 

Joel’s not sure why he feels the need to clarify this to you on the drive to the police station. In fact, he might be saying it more to convince himself, because he thinks ever since Sarah’s mom ran off, things have never not been chaotic. 

In some ways, he’s glad it happened. It was a doomed relationship from the start, they’d both been far too young to understand the consequences of their actions, so it was probably for the better that she was no longer around. But he was caught in a constant state of feeling like he could never quite get a handle on things. 

Joel glances over at you in the passenger's seat of his truck. He decides that you look a little out of place there, dressed in a black pantsuit, a messenger bag tucked between your heel-clad feet. He can’t remember the last time there was an adult woman in his car. Three months, maybe? It had been a date, a third date, and subsequently, a last date. But right now the context is different.

Your head is tilted towards the open window, the breeze casting stray pieces of your hair around as the radio cuts in and out of an old Eagles song and then to static, and then back into music again. He needs to get his damned stereo fixed but unfortunately it hasn’t exactly been high on his priority list. His gaze travels down the slope of your neck, where your skin dips into the collar of your silky blue blouse, then back to your profile, your lips moving as you mouth the words to the song, but don’t sing. 

I get this feelin' I may know you

As a lover and a friend

You stop when his words register, turning to look at him, and he averts his eyes back to the road. “No offense or anything….” you say. “But compared to the family I grew up in….this is all pretty tame.”

Joel ponders that for a moment, notices the way your eyes are narrowed, the corners of your lips quirking. “What, you got a problematic little brother, too? A precocious eleven-year-old?”

“No kids,” you answer. He didn’t think so. “But I do have a problematic older brother. And the stress he’s caused has definitely taken years off my life.”

At least you seem like you understand. 

He’s shocked you’re in this car with him, that after entertaining his daughter all night, you’d offered to help him out with this Tommy mess. Though, he assumes you’re doing it out of guilt because Sarah made it sound like he was broke.

“You know for the record, I actually have the money to bail him out.”

“I figured.”

“Then why’d you come?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. My life has been pretty boring lately. I can’t remember the last time I did something exciting on a Friday night.” 

“This is exciting to you?”

“It’s objectively exciting,” you sound assured. “Maybe more exciting than being the person who got arrested for public intoxication.” 

Despite the stress of the evening, he can’t help but laugh. 

“And whether you’re broke or not, bailing someone out of jail is no joke. If you can at least try to talk your way out of it, you might as well.”

Joel can’t argue with your logic.

“What is it you do again?” you ask, eyeing the protective glasses he has in the cup holder of his front seat. There are nails stuck between the rubber grooves of the mat beneath the seats, a pair of thick gloves resting on the dashboard.

“I’m a carpenter.”

“Makes sense,” you answer. “So you’re handy?”

“You could say that,” Joel lifts the can of flat, warm seltzer from his lunch break to his mouth, just to take a sip. 

“That’s hot,” you say, and he nearly chokes when he hears it.  Are you….flirting? Though, you can’t be, because when he looks over at you, you’re staring at the road, face neutral. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t make the rules of what’s hot and what isn’t….it’s just a fact. Everyone knows that.” 

“Do they?” 

“Uh-huh,” you respond. “I mean, I wish I was handy. I’m pretty much a lost cause in that department.” 

“If it paid the bills, you’d figure it out.” 

“If it paid the bills, I can tell you, I would not be living in our neighborhood.”

Joel puts his blinker on, preparing to pull into the police station. “You probably still could, it’s not that nice of a neighborhood.” 

“Shut up,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “But in all seriousness, it is peaceful. It’s quiet.”

“See, but you still didn’t say nice.”

“It is nice. I like it.” 

When he parks the car, you straighten up, unbuckling the seatbelt and exiting without a word. On the opposite side of the truck, he observes how you rebutton the front of your blazer, smooth down its lapels and shift your shoulders back before turning to him. 

“You ready?” you ask. 

He nods. 

“After you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Joel spots you again, Tommy is walking a few paces behind you. You turn your head over one shoulder, smirking at whatever he’s saying. From where Joel is sitting in the lobby, he can just make out the soft curve of your hips, the tops of your thighs over the barrier that separates him from all the desks of the officers and staff at the station. You’ve got an easy, relaxed gait and you give Joel a wink when he catches you staring.

He can tell it’s just meant to be celebratory thing, since both you and Tommy seem to be in good spirits, but he likes the sight of it anyways, the idea that you’re both in on some secret that no one else is. 

Joel stands to greet you and his brother to get the download, but as he approaches, your group is intercepted by one of the cops that had been hanging around reception. 

“Miller,” he says lowly to Tommy. “This better be the last time I see you in here.” 

When Tommy doesn’t answer right away, you pipe up. 

“I assure you my client will be on his best behavior.”

The cop turns to you for a minute, turns back to Tommy, contemplating. “You’re lucky you have a good lawyer…” he says. “Although I’m still not convinced you’re really paying someone to get you out of a public intoxication charge.” 

“I-” Tommy opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“Alleged…intoxication,” you interject, stone-faced.

“He can hardly walk straight.”

You purse your lips. “But….you never did a sobriety test, so, would it hold up in court?” you grimace. “If I had to guess….probably not.”

The cop narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t push it, princess.” 

Despite the infantilizing nickname, You respond with a polite smile. “Thanks again, officer. Have a nice evening.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs before backing away. 

You turn to Joel, your smile fading, and Tommy cuts in. “We should get the fuck out of here before he changes his mind.”

“That’s it? You’re free?” Joel asks.

Tommy nods. 

“Tommy’s right, we should definitely leave.”

It’s a mad scramble, the three of you settling back into Joel’s truck, and if he was feeling a little less angsty about the way the whole evening had gone, he might’ve even peeled out of the parking lot for dramatic effect. But at this point, his patience is wearing thin.

He’s back on the main drag, en route to Tommy’s place, with you on the passenger’s side, and his brother in the back, leaning forward with his elbows resting on your seats when his brother speaks up.

“Holy….shit!” Tommy turns to you. “That was fucking awesome, are you kidding me? Joel, where the fuck did you find her?”

He’s still drunk, words slurring together, and he shakes both of your shoulders ferociously. You actually giggle — the sound of it is fucking adorable and Joel wishes that these are not the circumstances for hearing such a noise. He rather it be because of something he said, but he knows Tommy has always been more charming, even when drunk 

“She’s my neighbor, Tommy.”

“No way! How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Tommy asks, and Joel can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

“I’m kind of new to the area,” you answer. 

“Dammit, oh my god, Joel, I wish you coulda seen it.”

Joel looks over at you, and is thankful that he catches your eye. “What’d you say?” 

“Never underestimate your negotiating power when the cop you’re talking to’s shift ended over an hour ago, and he doesn’t want to fill out any more paperwork.” You cross your arms, look over your shoulder at Tommy, who is leaning back against the seat with his head in his hands, laughing, before looking back at Joel. “I told you, I have experience.”

“Oh my god,” Tommy pokes his head back between you. “How’d he even get you to come down here? What’d he have to do, offer to paint your house or somethin’?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Sarah got locked out again,” Joel explained. “And I was over at her place when you called. She’s a corporate lawyer.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You know, Joel’s always liked the smart ones,” Tommy starts, and Joel has to contain the urge to slam on the brakes and send his brother face first into the back of his headrest. Unfortunately, he can’t do that with you in the car. “Too bad he’s dumb as a box of rocks.”

“Okay, watch yourself!” Joel snaps, and he’s only halfway kidding. “You got off easy, but you’re on fuckin’ thin ice, and I’m still pissed that I’m spending my night bailing you out again.”

Tommy doesn’t even catch on to Joel’s irritation – or maybe he does, and has just decided that he’s going to be the Annoying Younger Sibling and see how far he can push it. “Don’t let him fool you, okay?” Tommy continues, and you’ve angled yourself towards him, amused. “It’s not always him lookin’ after me. Before he had Sarah, he was crazy.”

“Alright, alright that’s enough, Tommy.” Joel shoots daggers towards his brother in the rearview mirror, and he watches Tommy’s smile falter, finally deciding to back down. 

“Is that true, Joel, were you really crazy?” you ask after Tommy grows quiet, tilting your head. “I can’t see it.”

“Well we’ve all have our moments, right?” he says sheepishly. 

“We do,” you agree, and then it’s finally silent.

Joel is thankful to see Tommy’s driveway straight in front of him, and his car lurches up the curb. “Alright, alright, this is your last stop,” he says to his brother. “You’ll get in okay?” 

Tommy takes a deep breath, settling himself after all his bravado and sinking back against his seat. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Sarah’s game.” He slinks out of the truck and slams the door behind him. 

Normally, Joel would’ve chewed him out after something like this, but he knows being hungover tomorrow at a middle school soccer game, sandwiched between screaming parents and the ear-splitting whistles of the referees will be punishment enough.

“I’ll see you then.” He watches his brother stumble up the steps to his home, unlock the door, and give a wave before disappearing inside. 

Joel’s left alone with you. “Should we get you home, now?”

“Yeah, we should.”

Joel puts the car in reverse, puts one of his arms over the back of the bench seat to look for cars behind him, and catches you staring. You don’t even seem embarrassed that he notices, either, you just shift your gaze away to outside the window.

He feels a little self-conscious about the first impression he’s probably made, which is a feeling he’s not used to…caring about what people think. 

“Sorry about him, he’s….a good guy but a real piece of work.”

You giggle. “Like I said, I have a brother, too.”

It’s been awhile since he’s interacted with anyone outside of Sarah, Tommy, and his coworkers, and his day was exhausting. He wants to ask more questions, see if he can hold some kind of conversation, but words fail him, so you spend the short drive on the way back home mostly in silence. You’re so quiet that by the time he pulls into your driveway, he thinks you might be asleep. If you were, he doesn’t even get the chance to wake you, because you immediately sit up straight once the truck has come to a halt.

“Thanks for everything tonight,” he says. 

“You’re welcome, it was no problem,” you get out of the car, sling your bag over your shoulders, and close the door. “Have a good night.” 

Joel’s listening to the retreating click of your heels up the driveway when he rolls down his window all the way to speak again. It’s clear you’re tired, your shoulders are slouched, and he feels incredibly guilty. You worked all day and then had to put up with his entire crazy family. 

“Hey,” he says. “How much do I owe you for the pizza?”

You turn around, still stepping backwards. “Nothing.”

“Look, you’ve done too much for me tonight to say that,” he says. “I’m startin’ to feel bad.”

You stop in your tracks then, the smirk on your face fading a little bit as you slowly step forward to where he leans out the truck window. It’s only a few feet, but you’re much closer now than you’ve been to him all night, and there must be jasmine in your perfume. It smells expensive, he thinks, as your hands lift to rest on the door next to his elbow. “You shouldn’t feel bad,” you say softly, voice low. 

God, you’re fucking beautiful, he realizes, basked in the glow of the moon, a smile creeping along the edges of your lips. Of course, he knew you were attractive, had definitely registered it at some point before –  maybe when he’d walked in on you and Sarah giggling in the kitchen. He was just too busy being worried to even notice until now. 

This isn’t a date, but you’re so close he could kiss you, kind of wants to just to see what would happen, but he doesn’t. You’re his new neighbor, and if he’s reading this wrong, he doesn’t want to be reminded of the mistake everyday, first thing in the morning when you’re picking up your newspaper at the end of your driveway and he’s leaving for work. 

“But uh…if it would make you feel better…one of the steps on my front porch is rotted. Maybe you could come over sometime and fix it? That a fair trade?” 

Joel nods, and you stick out your hand. “It’s a deal,” he says, ignoring the jolt of energy he feels when your palms press together, like you’re a kid wearing a hand buzzer, trying to shock him.

“Great,” you step away. He’s about to put the car in reverse when you speak again. 

“Oh, and Joel?” you ask, he looks back at you. Before you speak again, your eyes shift to the ground, like you’re mustering up the courage to ask him something, and when they return to his again, your expression is somber. “Go easy on Sarah….she’s a good kid.”

Joel nods, understanding.

“I know.”

-

volume ii

taglist: @yaskna @venomous-ko @lomljigg

[suratan-zir]

Very personal post.

A lot of relationship talk, might make you nauseous.

Oversharing because I felt like it?

Today is our 10-year anniversary of marriage. 10.10 is the date, and 10 years - so many tens. Ten years ago, in a small, very sad-looking building in Donetsk, under the sounds of artillery mixed with the sounds of Mendelssohn's march, which the smiling employee turned on for "special atmosphere," we put our signatures on a piece of paper and kissed, because we were told to. (I would never kiss in public otherwise.) We wanted to get married before all the government structures got captured by the russian terrorists, so that we could still get Ukrainian documents, not just a worthless piece of paper.

We both were wearing t-shirts and jeans. I felt miserable. He was happy. And now, looking back at that day, I'm happy too. In two days, it will also be the anniversary of our relationship - 12 years. We met when we were both 17, at uni. It's crazy how just one person can change your life. I was studying that profession only because of one person. And that's why I met my husband. If not for me, he probably wouldn't have the career he has right now, he wouldn't even be in this field. But if not for him, I literally wouldn't be alive by now.

We make each other better. And we have this "shared brain" where we not only finish each other's sentences, but there is no need for sentences at all. It's like he reads my mind. Sometimes, it's even scary. That's what you get when you lock two kids in a horrible, tiny, moldy apartment and throw some traumatic events at them. It's a bond stronger than we can even understand. We've been living together for almost 12 years, I don't think I can process this number.

People were telling us we were moving too fast. And they were right, it was too fast. We moved in together after two months, only because we wanted to get away from our families. The first two years, we were arguing non-stop over nothing. But it turns out, if you stick around and have patience, everything works out eventually. We haven't had a real fight in years.

What were even the odds of finding someone as asocial as I am, who would love to either stay inside all week or go with me to roam the swamps and valleys? What are the odds of finding a guy who would spend half an hour trying to get the perfect shot of a frog? Yes, these are the main qualities I look for in a man. (just joking... probably) The guy who, during a high tide, would wade over a kilometer of water with me and then swim over 150 meters, following me to the opposite bank just to see what's in there.

He doesn't play the sims or Stardew Valley. Nobody's perfect, I suppose.

[zh-lele]

Playing Games

You didn't yet see my worth, so you try to play me. But I was so in love that I just got a little bit too complicated.

▪︎ Summary: A chaotic New Year's party makes you rethink the kind of relationship you've been having with Donghyuck for the past few months. He is a player, but you love the game.

▪︎ Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x female reader

▪︎ Genres: friends with benefits, smut, angst

▪︎ Word count: 7.4k (I'm so sorry.)

▪︎ Warnings: explicit sexual content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; profanity; substance consumption; toxic behavior. (Please let me know if I missed something.)

Listen to the playlist here. | Click to see Hyuck's moodboard.

Author's note: This is my secret santa gift for @neochan as part of the event hosted by @neowritingsnet . Hey Sam, I was your secret santa! Happy holidays and I hope you can enjoy the fic :) Didn't have the time to get it proof read so I'm really sorry about that.

Lolo.

1. Forget about it, forget about him

"How are you surviving the New Year's party?"

Your question takes Rina by surprise, since you see her get a little scared when she hears your voice from behind. But, seeing that it's only you, it doesn't take long for that beautiful smile that characterizes her to reappear.

"It's going really well, I think." She answers by returning her gaze to the front, where your group of friends is preparing for the main event of the night.

It's exactly two minutes to midnight. You know this not only because of the gigantic TV screen in the living room of the mansion—that has been broadcasting the countdown to the new year in different parts of the world since you arrived at the boys' house— but because you can also feel it in the air.

Aeri is helping Mia bring the glasses into the living room and set them ready for the cocktail party. Donghyuck is arguing with Jaemin because he's not helping Jisung with the Champagne bottles he's too scared to open. Chenle's laughter can be heard from the kitchen followed by some groans, and Mark telling him "it's not funny at all". You only find out what the mess is about when Jeno comes and lights up the room with his eye smile, telling the guys that Mark splashed his own eyes cutting the lime for the margaritas, and now he can't see anything.

You and Renjun share a cigarette on the balcony, now with Rina on your side.

"You know things are about to get weird, right?" Renjun asks the girl.

"Yeah, the other girls warned me you have this tradition going on," she starts. "No one leaves without a kiss from your New Year's parties." And her face flushes red as he finishes the sentence with his eyes locked on Donghyuck, who is finally pouring the champagne into the glasses with a smirk, looking as handsome as ever.

The action doesn't go unnoticed by you or Renjun, so you decide to push the new girl a little more. "You've got someone in mind?"

"Well…" She laughs, and without taking her eyes off him, she drops it: "I might go for Donghyuck."

The clock strikes midnight and the cheers are heard, both inside the mansion and outside in the street. As you approach inside to celebrate and drink the champagne together with your friends, you are surprised and intercepted by your friend Aeri, who plants a quick New Year's kiss on your lips before throwing herself into her boyfriend's arms and doing the same with him. You just laugh it off and empty the drink in your glass to set your eyes on a different pair meters away from you.

Rina had been the newest addition to the group, and obviously, before inviting her to the mansion and one of the chaotic New Year's Eve parties, someone had to warn her how things were. It was only fair that Rina was aware of an agreement made years ago between you and your friends: everyone gets at least one midnight kiss during the new year celebration. She was told just enough to try to survive the night.

The mansion is the boys' rented house and private studio. All of them have been making good amounts of money in the music industry lately, gaining popularity really fast, and it's a privilege that she isn't paying anymore to enter a party in the mansion.

It wasn't her fault that no one told her that something has been going on between you and Donghyuck for months, and that you were hoping that he wouldn't kiss anyone but you that night. When you didn't tell Rina anything as soon as she said she wanted to go for him, you were only waiting to test Donghyuck.

Because if you think about the situation, it was all his fault, honestly.

Everyone in your friend group knows Donghyuck and you have been exclusively seeing each other for months now. Your girl friends know very well he isn't afraid to fill your ears with sweet things and words of affection when you are alone. Yet, he won't show you around and would act like you're no more than friends when there's someone else.

You still don't know what his problem is, but you are growing sick and tired of crying for nights because he won't talk to you. Instead, he would have you thinking you did something wrong to upset him or that he doesn't care about you anymore, to then come and act like he didn't just ignore you for days. But you aren't going to take your anger on Rina.

You are going to do it on Donghyuck later, definitely.

Lee Donghyuck, or one of the most recognized and well paid r&b artists from this new movement of kids coming up in the industry, making some of the best music of the continent independently. But for the ones who know him privately, he’s just a kid wasting a lot of talent and potential, who's only got a big ton of pressure on his shoulders and stacks of money he doesn't know how to spend more than on parties, alcohol, and drugs.

He’s also the boy you've been chasing and trying to get with for years. And now that you have him, you can't lose him just like that.

If he kisses Rina right in front of you and everyone else when he refuses to do that with you, that's going to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

The white lights go down until it is only the colored lights hanging from the tall ceiling, and the Christmas lights taped on the wall that illuminate the room very dimly. You can appreciate some of your best friends still exchanging their midnight kisses. You can also spot Jaemin in one corner pouring out one margarita after another, and Donghyuck with Rina huddled against the wall in the other corner of the room. The millisecond he makes eye contact with you and smiles all the way from there, then returning his attention to Rina is actually what sets you on fire. Not in the way you would want to, though.

You don't need to stay there to know Donghyuck's gonna try and play you dirty. And you won't give him the satisfaction of standing there alone, watching him kiss with someone else.

You should have listened to your friends when they told you over and over again that Donghyuck is and always will be a player, not worth all your tears. You should have also heard your other side of consciousness telling you "don't do it, don't go there." But it's too late to regret it when you take the cup from Jaemin's hands and drink all of its contents, then grab the bottle of tequila and Jaemin's hand and drag him with you to the kitchen.

You know Donghyuck like the palm of your hand. You could try and play his games too.

When you set the tequila bottle on the kitchen counter and sit yourself on it to grab Jaemin by the collar and put him between your parted legs, the mischief reaches his eyes and reflects on the smirk of his mouth.

"I feel like we're not here for more margaritas," he says looking into your eyes and placing his hands on your thighs.

You give the bottle one last swallow before confirming his suspicions.

"You're right. Happy New Year."

Kissing Jaemin has always been a pleasure, in every sense of the word. His kisses are as lazy as he is, and feel as full of affection as if you were in love with each other, which makes you think about how there is no doubt why everyone falls in love with him so easily.

His lips taste like salt and lime, and explore yours sweetly until he opens his way to the inside of your mouth. There, the salty taste is replaced by a sweetness that contrasts with the rest of his movements. His hands caress your legs, look to get you closer to his body, squeezing your thighs and butt and making you approach the edge of the counter, but never completely losing that calm that characterizes him. Jaemin is the perfect definition of a tease.

"Thought we wouldn't be doing this anymore." You feel the vibrations of his vocal chords under your lips that leave his neck wet with kisses. When you don't answer him, he cups your face separating you from his skin, and makes you look him in the eyes. "Aren't you and Hyuck together?"

Well, that's a hard question. Because it seems like it depends on the situation and the mood. When Donghyuck feels like treating you like his girlfriend, you really feel like the luckiest girl in the world. He's sweet, caring, and funny. He comes to your home to share dinner with your family and spend the night, and you do the same at his. He even let you spend the entire Christmas day at the mansion—and you know that's something reserved for the couples only. You had morning sex, breakfast together, opened presents, and even cuddled while watching movies until it was dark outside.

You could say you are together only when he's feeling like giving you his attention. The rest of the time, you only try to figure out his feelings: when he will disappear for an entire day, won't talk to you for a week or will get mad if you go partying without him, but then flirt with other girls right in front of you.

Following that line of thought:

"No, we are not together." You finally tell Jaemin.

He only clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before moving closer to your ear to whisper. "That's a shame, because I think this would be much hotter if you were."

It sends a shiver down your spine and settles a strange feeling in your stomach at the same time. It's kind of frustrating, the way no matter how much you want to get Donghyuck out of your head and just have a good time with other boys, you can't get yourself to do it.

Donghyuck doesn't need to know, but it's not the first time you try forgetting you're mad at him with a little help from others. And that's the thing about it: that you only ever get to try, because the guilt takes over you despite how he has neglected and hurt you, and you end up going back to him over and over.

That unsettling feeling washes over you like a bucket of cold water, so you have to separate Jaemin from your lips before apologizing and rushing out of the kitchen to find your friends.

2. I think I wanna kiss you, right here in front of everybody

"You know what's your problem? You're always being too nice." Mia leans on the balcony railing with a joint between his lips, and stretches an open hand to you. The lighter lands on her palm and she's quickly lighting up the rolled paper, passing it to you after a couple of deep puffs.

"Well," you start exhaling the smoke. "That depends on who's saying it."

"You just need to fuck someone else, not letting remorse or sad feelings get in between. Just to know if you really wanna stop seeing Hyuck after it or not."

"But you don't understand," the lump in your throat can be noticed through your shaky voice, and the tears begin to threaten to fall from your eyes so Aeri—who has positioned herself in front of you and is covering you from the rest of the people inside the party—takes your hand and gives it a little comforting squeeze. "I've liked him for so long. I really, really only want to be with him."

"You really want to be with someone who's been making you cry for months now? I remember you having more sad than happy nights," Mia points out once again. You quickly dry your tears with your hands before they keep falling. "Even on fucking New Year's. New Year's party and you're crying over this dickhead." She says in disbelief.

"Must be some reaaally good dick if it got you this down bad."

The three of you manage to laugh at Aeri's comment, thankfully. You maintain the order of the round and pass the joint back to Aeri.

"It is," you confess, blowing out the smoke. "He really is that good."

"Does he at least make you cum?"

"Not all the time—"

"Then you have to leave him, sister." Mia interrupts. There's a smile on her face now that indicates she's just half-joking.

"But he's seriously so good!" You shake your head in frustration followed by an exasperated sigh. It's embarrassing to say it out loud, but your friends had known you for years, and they know that this talk and all the shed tears won't change a thing. "You know I'm not leaving him."

"Yeah, I know this conversation is fucking pointless." Mia's face is illuminated by the light from her cell phone when she takes it out ready to play one of her latest obsessions. Cats Café, a new game that locks her up in your bathroom for hours, playing seated on your toilet and leaving you and Aeri hanging out in the living room of your house, just the two of you during girls' nights. "Just please, try to keep in mind how bad you've had it the last few days the next time he tries to sugarcoat you with his words."

"You wouldn't be having such a bad time if you were going out with me, instead of him."

"Aeri, you literally have a boyfriend." You tell her with a roll of your eyes. 

"And you literally took my midnight kiss in front of him, with no complains," she replies to you. "And Mark told me he wouldn't care if I ever wanna try something with a girl!"

"Wait," you observe Mia pause his game and look up at your other friend with furrowed eyebrows. "You mean as in a threesome?"

"Who's having a threesome?" Donghyuck asks throwing his arm around Aeri's shoulders, and taking the drink out of her hands to empty it down his throat.

"The three of us," she answers looking at Donghyuck with a smile, and doing a circular motion with her hand pointing at you, Mia, and herself.

His eyes open up in astonishment when you laugh hearing Aeri's words, but an amused smile takes over his face at the same time. "That's extremely unfair, don't you think?"

"Want me to film it for you? So you don’t miss out." You ask him in return.

"I'd rather film you and me, alone." He says in a teasing tone.

"Okaaaaaay," Mia gets up from her place to shove her phone down her jean pockets and starts walking back inside. "Can't a girl play Cats Café in peace without having to listen to you being some horny motherfuckers all the time?!"

"Go get fucked, Mia." Donghyuck tells your friend and you get to punch him in the arm when he comes to stand to your left, which gets him laughing and complaining.

Mia only points her middle finger at him and yells something like “I'll ask your brother.” Next thing you know, Mark has joined Aeri on the balcony after communicating that Mia and Jeno have, in fact, taken over his room to do God knows what, and you are lighting up the second joint of the night with Donghyuck standing very close to your side. 

The four of you smoke in silence until there are only a few puffs left before it goes out. When the stub comes back to you, you light it again sure you'll be the one to finish it off.

Donghyuck watches you exhale the smoke from your lungs and then looks down at the joint between your fingers. He's not going to ask for it, so you raise your hand to the level of his mouth and position the end of it between his lips—which feel as soft as ever, and he leaves a little tempting kiss on your fingertips.

A few meters away from you the party is still going on. Sweaty bodies, blinding colored lights, and wet tongues that move to the rhythm of an ear-piercing song played by Renjun. He is a genius, the best of them all when it comes to producing music, and it shows in the way he makes you feel like your heart is gonna come out of your chest when he plays with the console.

It could be the music, the weed, the alcohol, the boy in front of you—who is looking into your eyes like you're the only one at the party, as if you were his favorite and he hadn't had multiple girls hitting on him all night—or a mix of all that, but you start to believe he got you hypnotized. You know you could have anyone else too, but it's never enough if they aren't Donghyuck.

He takes a hit making it burn until he hurts your fingers, so you have to move them away from his lips. However, the pain isn't enough to bring you back to reality, and a little touch on his lips doesn't calm the incessant desire you have to kiss him—it shows in the dilated pupils of your eyes that look for his gaze, in your agitated breathing, and in his sly smile as if he was reading all your thoughts.

What does it take to break Lee Donghyuck?

The tension can be felt in the air, so your friends are quick to leave the two of you alone in the balcony, maybe hoping you would sort your feelings out.

"Kiss me? Please, kiss me."

After throwing the end of the joint to the floor, he gently caresses your face with his nose and hugs your waist to get you closer, forcing you to cross your arms behind his neck.

You continue begging in his ear. "No more hiding, Hyuck."

His nose reaches your neck where you feel him plant a subtle wet kiss and then leave an intense bite. His teeth scraping your skin while his two hands squeeze your butt, drawing you firmly into his body. One last suck to your neck that you're sure will be leaving a mark, and then he's getting off you, staring down as if nothing just happened.

"Just came here to tell you we'll be leaving to Yangyang's."

Donghyuck lights up a cigarette and goes back inside without another word, probably hoping you'll go after him since that's what you've gotten him used to; you can't deny it.

You often feel like his babysitter and his mother at the same time: making sure that he won't make stupid decisions when he's out and intoxicated, that he won't miss any important schedules, that he can communicate himself better with his friends and family. You've been Donghyuck's unconditional support from the day you met, but since he's shown nothing in return it has started to feel like a burden. Like trying to make an already grown man grow. You know that it isn't your responsibility, though, and that he isn't likely to change for good.

You can't break Lee Donghyuck, but you still like to try.

3. Tell her sweet lies

A quick stop before heading to the after-party at Yangyang's has Donghyuck's car sitting in the McDonald's parking lot, while he and Rina order takeout after you said you were feeling extremely hungry. It's you and Mia waiting inside, sitting on the heated seats with music blasting from the stereo.

You've made sure to make the ride awkward enough for Rina after you saw her with Donghyuck, caressing the nape of his neck and hair and squeezing his thigh as he drove in front of her. You know it's not an idea that Donghyuck likes too much, but the anger caused by his rejection combined with the desinhibition caused by the weed has you making bad decisions.

Donghyuck has left his phone unlocked for you to be able to change the music while he's gone. So you take the opportunity to enter his text messages and look for you and Mia's names through the chats.

Multiple results from the times you have been mentioned appear instantly. Some are funny ones, some are the result of important conversations in your group chat, and others are part of the private chats between Donghyuck and some of the boys.

"Did you know Yangyang talks about you to Donghyuck?" You ask Mia with a smirk.

"Oh my god!" She rips the phone out of your hands before you can get to read what it's about. "You're not reading that out loud."

Her pupils narrow when she brings the light of the screen closer to his eyes, to read the conversations between her "best friend" and Donghyuck. You immediately think that there can't be anything wrong with it because of the smile that Mia can't contain while she scrolls down the screen.

Mia throws the phone back at you and hides her blushed face on her hands before you can make fun at her.

"What is it?" You ask laughing. “Are you ever gonna stop messing around with other boys and confess to him?”

"I think he likes me," she says now looking at you, her cheeks still red from the temperature.

"Yeah, I think so too. I think he fucks you for a reason."

"Shut up! What does it say about you?"

You laugh once more and grab the phone, making sure to touch the screen before it locks up. The first mention of your name is from a chat from tonight, in which Donghyuck asked you if you wanted him to pick you up to go to the mansion. A few more meaningless mentions in your private conversation with him here and there. Some pictures and messages that you exchange that there's no chance to reveal. Lastly, you find several mentions of you in a private chat with Jaemin, which makes you curious so you open it to read the full conversations.

"There's something off here," you tell Mia with a furrow of your brows.

A little bit of concern is shown in her voice after watching your expression. "Huh? What is it?"

"He's been talking to Jaemin… And Jaemin asked if we've fucked." You tell your friend without stopping from scrolling through Donghyuck's phone, a deeper frown taking over your face the more you read his conversations with Jaemin that involve you.

"What did Hyuck say?"

"'I fucked her so good she won't go looking for you or any other guy ever again.'" You read Donghyuck's reply to Jaemin out loud. So that means he knew about you and Jaemin all this time. "'She gets so desperate for me it makes me sick, you can't imagine how much she cums when she's riding me–"

"I think that's enough." Mia scratches the phone from your hands and blocks it to prevent you from reading any more texts. A short silence falls between the two of you before she's speaking again. "I saw them kiss at midnight."

"Who?"

"Donghyuck and Rina."

Disgust quickly takes over your face and you feel like throwing up, the hunger you felt earlier leaving your body in an instant. It's been too much in such a short period of time.

The atmosphere in the car becomes awkward once more, a heavy trap base being the only sound filling the space. You don't really want to turn to look at the backseat where Mia sits because your teary eyes would give you away. You have known her long enough to be sure she won't hesitate destroying Donghyuck's car with a bat this time if she ever sees you crying because of him, again. And once you finally have such a good and stable group of friends, you don't want to ruin it just because you wanted to get involved with one of them and it turned out wrong.

You also knew who you were messing with since the start, but you still decided to ignore everything that Hyuck is and fall into lust and believe in his promises.

"He also said he doesn't really like me."

"Now that's ridiculous." Mia lets out a scoff.

You shrug, "It's what it said. That I’m only a good fuck."

"Hyuck has been seeing you for months, and you are going to believe what a silly text message says?" You feel Mia place her torso between the two front seats to try to meet your gaze while questioning you. "You know Hyuck becomes an asshole when he's with Jaemin," she continues. "He would say whatever bullshit to try to look cool–"

"But we haven't been doing so well lately."

"He likes you," she still tries to reassure you.

"Mia, it's fine. I don't care." You cut her off, crossing your arms and sulking in the passenger's seat. That tense silence keeps falling between both of you until she decides to speak.

"You can be sad about it, you know, he was being an asshole." She tells you in a much calmer tone, placing a hand on your left shoulder.

"I said it's fine." You turn to look at her the moment Donghyuck makes it back to the car with Rina, and takes his seat behind the steering wheel, passing the bags of takeout to Mia and placing yours in the middle of the car. Your eyes never meet Mia or Rina though, falling on Donghyuck's subtle smile, and getting lost in his glazed up eyes until you decide to lie to yourself for the millionth time that night. "I don't like him anyway."

Donghyuck looks a little lost as his eyes start wondering from you to Mia after hearing that last sentence. "Who's this guy we don't like?" You only smile in return, and ask him to take you home because you are too tired and intoxicated. He's quick to comply with your request, answering in a sweet and even more intoxicating tone than every other substance you had that night. "Of course, baby."

The car ride is awfully quiet when Donghyuck drops Mia and Rina at Yangyang's and, after a weird exchange of looks between Hyuck and the boys, the two of you continue your way to your house.

The night has gone from bad to terribly bad, and you're not sure how much longer you can take. After reflecting on every conversation you had with your friends tonight, you finally decide to speak.

"I think we should quit it."

He stops the car at the door of your house and looks at you with a crooked eyebrow. "What?" The disgust is evident in the tone of his voice.

"I just–" you struggle to take the words out. You aren't sure if you should tell him how hurt it made you that he talks like that about you with his friends, without shame or respect for your privacy. You aren't sure if you can reproach him for having been with other girls when you have also done it, when he has made clear you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, and when you agreed on it. "I know we'll never be in a real relationship, but I don't think you're treating me right, okay?"

Donghyuck lets out a scoff and his hands fall off the steering wheel like dead-weight. An expression on his face that tells you he's already done with this conversation. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"That it feels like I'm a game to you? That you only want me around when your dick is in need or whatever?"

"I just spent like a hundred on food for you and your friends. Again, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"And I don't want your fucking food, okay? I don't care how much money you spend on me," you say looking at him with teary eyes at this point. "What if I just want a hug, a kiss, a little affection, huh? Just that you care for me all the time, you know?"

"Baby," Donghyuck looks for your hands and you let him intertwine your fingers over the middle of the car. "But I show you my affection all the time," he says with a sweeter tone now.

"But not in front of others," you shake your head. He squeezes your hands and his thumbs caress the back of your hands, making it even harder to contain all your emotions. "It's like you're scared of others finding out, like you're ashamed. When literally everyone knows we're seeing each other."

"We've kissed in front of others multiple times."

"Yeah, but all those times you've been drunk off your ass and high as a kite. Like I'm just a random girl for you to hook-up at parties."

Donghyuck bites his lower lip to contain a smile, and gets closer to you to speak in your ear. "What if I told you you make me nervous when I'm sober?"

"Get off, you're ridiculous."

"But you know you are the only one I really like."

That's what makes you stop fighting him to search for his eyes. You know it isn't the best option, that he always tricks you into thinking whatever he wants when he looks at you oh so sweetly, even if he makes no sense, but you are hoping to finally find the truth somehow.

"Some things tell me otherwise. Mia told me–"

"Your friends are lying to you, might be trying to fuck up what we have."

“She told me you kissed Rina.”

“I didn’t,” he says. “I swear I didn’t. Nothing happened between me and her.”

His gaze is cold and his lips a straight line devoid of emotion, while he still holds you by the arms preventing you from getting out of the car. And that sentence feels like it's enough to ruin all the good things you've been through together. He keeps lying, talking about your intimacies with his friends, ignoring your feelings, and pretending that he really cares about you.

You open the car door and get out to slam it again, pretty sure it might leave the lock damaged. Outside the temperature is very low despite the fact that it is about to dawn, the sky turning purple and slowly turning off the stars. So you rush to open the door of your house before freezing outside, but especially because you hear Donghyuck get out of the car too and call your name closer and closer, indicating that he has no intention of ending the talk yet.

4. She knows what I am, and she loves and evades what I am

"I'm staying over." He says making his way through your door, shutting it and blocking it once the two of you are inside.

"No you're not." The walk down to your room gets constantly interrupted by him trying to reach for you and stopping you from moving any more. He grabs your arms to get you to look at him, so when he finally makes you turn around and you see his face, you break down. "Fuck you, Donghyuck! I told you you're not staying."

"Yeah, I am. And I'mma fuck you silly."

"No you're fucking not."

"Gonna take all that anger out of you."

"Fuck you, asshole." You almost spit in his face trying to talk to him at his same height.

"Is that what you want?" He asks, grabbing your jaw with one hand and forcing you to keep the eye contact, the other hand placing you flush from his body. "Fuck you so good you don't even understand why you got so mad in the first place?"

Your eyes fall to his gripped teeth and to his lips, wet with spit from all the previous arguing looking more tempting than usual.

You have to admit that, if you really think about it, it didn't make much sense why you got so mad at him. He already made it clear to you that absolutely nothing happened between him and Rina or anyone else all night while you, instead, jumped to conclusions and went looking for unwarranted revenge.

Maybe you and Mia thought he was being an asshole and was making fun of you when, in reality, that isn't much like Hyuck. What if it really was just a stupid conversation between boys? What if it was his way of showing off, of presuming to Jaemin about your relationship because he felt proud of you?

Because if he supposedly gets as sick of you as he said in the text messages, then why would he decide to be with you again?

A gasp comes out from your open mouth when you feel his hand squeezing on your ass and pushing you even closer to him.

"I just want you to be honest with me." You reply in a whisper. The smile that gets over his features is wicked, and his left hand tightens his grip around your face one last time before he shoves you to the bed.

An airy laugh comes out of him. "Silly girl gets angry and if I fuck her she calms down."

He gets over you placing both hands on the sides of your head and looks into your eyes once more. But there's something different this time. His look is so soft and tender it makes you want to tear up a little. It might show, because Donghyuck pouts lightly before opening his mouth to swear to you: "You know I'd never hurt you on purpose."

It's hard to trust him. But it's also hard to believe he would dare lie to you while looking at you in the eyes that way. So you only grab his locks and pull to give him a kiss full of emotion. There's passion, there's anger, there's pain and there's so much obsession it could be mistaken for love.

His palm travels up and down from your sides, caressing and squeezing firmly, to your back under your top until he unties the straps and gets it out of the way. His fingers explore and touch all the newly exposed skin sending shivers down your spine. He kisses you back aggressively, making you pull on his hair like you know he likes and feeling him grow hard above you.

His hands start to undo the buttons of your jeans and he slides his fingers under it and over your skin, massaging your ass, grinding on you even more.

Small whimpers leave from you and mix with the sighs coming out from his mouth. You take a moment to remove your pants completely, tossing them to the side and quickly starting to get Donghyuck out of his.

When his hands move up again, he gets them under the straps of your panties and moves them down, freeing you from the fabric, parting your legs and giving your clit direct contact with his boxers.

It's always too easy when he's alone with you. He knows perfectly when to kiss you and where to touch you to make you want more of him—an expert of your body, always looking for you to have the best time.

Guilt takes over you for the second time tonight, remembering how selfish you were earlier when you went looking out for his friend, and then getting mad at him when Donghyuck has really been nothing but the sweetest when it's just the two of you.

What was the problem with keeping things private? What was your obsession with him showing you off? You never considered he’s a public figure and he might like his privacy, to keep things on the low because of his fans, the paparazzi and the media who’s never got anything nice to say about him and your friends.

When you get away from him all of a sudden, there's a remaining blush on his cheeks as his lustful but confused eyes follow you, until you get on the floor and land on your knees in between his legs. His pupils expand as you tug on his boxer, grab his semi-hard cock and lick the tip of it. As soon as you repeatedly run your tongue around it, you hear him groan deeply. Not much time passes until he is fully hard while you keep moving your hand along his dick, squeezing and passing your thumb over the tip making Donghyuck hiss, and he pushes your head down to make you wrap your mouth around him one more time.

"Fuuuck baby," he groans one more time before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you away.

You look at him with shiny eyes, your lips red and moisturized with his pre-cum. And because of the way his chest moves up and down from the heavy breathing and the look he's giving you, you think Donghyuck might come just at the sight of you.

He doesn't waste another second to attach your mouths in a desperate kiss, leading you to lay on top of the bed once again. His weight on your body maintains your back pressed against the mattress, and he makes room between your legs. You're sure he's more than ready for you, but you know he always wants to make sure you are fully ready for him. His digits tease your entry and you whine in desperation to just have him. 

"Hyuck," you can't help but cry his name.

"What?" He asks as his fingers keep going in and out of you. The feeling of his lips on yours help you momentarily stop from moaning and complaining.

When he finally breaks the kiss to breathe, you manage to speak. "Quit teasing and fuck me."

He only grins at you and you can finally feel the head of his cock replacing his fingers in your pussy. But he doesn't push in yet. Instead, his fingers coated in your juices come in contact with your lips and somehow you know what he wants.

"Did you have fun playing the angry girlfriend with me?" He comes closer and whispers in your ear as you open your mouth and suck them for him. "Silly girl. Look at you, you are so beautiful." Donghyuck talks in between wet kisses that move from your cheeks to your neck. "How could you believe what your friends say?"

A moan escapes you—whether because of his actions or his words, it doesn't matter too much, because he slams his dick into you, taking away all the air from your lungs.

The oxygen only reaches your blood again once he slightly pulls off to bottom out immediately after, setting a steady pace. You are restricted from making any sounds, as his fingers are still on your mouth while he keeps pleasuring you, obliging you to suck and bite at them because he just feels too good.

Once again, you think every doubt you ever had about him before was dumb, as there isn't a possibility he would want to make you feel this good if he didn't like you at all.

His girth is perfectly adjustable to you and quick to form a knot on the low of your stomach. It would suddenly disappear when he completely pulls out of you and grabs your hips to turn you around, making you stand on your elbows and knees. With your head down on the mattress and ass up in the air, Donghyuck doesn't waste another second and gets inside you.

His thrusts are slow and deep, way too deep. This position allows him perfectly to play with your clit and to squeeze your breasts at the same time, quickly sending you over the edge in a minute, then stopping completely, then stimulating you to the limit over again.

When he finally gets his hands off your body completely, you start to accelerate the pace on your own, fucking yourself on his dick before Donghyuck interrupts suggesting you move to straddle him.

He's quick to get himself sitting with his back against the bed frame, then dragging you to sit comfortably on top of him. Hyuck rubs the head of his dick back and forth between your folds, reaching your clit repeatedly and spreading your wetness all over him, making you whine in the process.

"Hyuck, please." You are a panting mess on top of him, moving yourself to keep the friction stimulating you and sighing dreamily. 

He lets you grind and stimulate your clit through his length for a bit, taking his shirt off in the process and going back to massaging your boobs. You whimper when he manages to sink you down on him without a warning, which makes you fall forward and rest the side of your head on his chest, your ear right above where his heart should be.

His arms embrace your body and press you against his chest that is warm, allowing you to hear the rhythm of his heart, slow and controlled, like you could find all the right answers by just listening to it.

"I would make love to you," he whispers, "but you made me mad with your little scene."

"Hyuck, don't be like that." Your eyes fall shut trying to hold back the tears, when at the same time you desperately want to see his satisfied smile hearing you cry and moan his name as he rolls his hips, stretching your walls again and again without having started to move back and forth again. "Hyuck, fucking move!" You ask desperately, sitting and trying to bounce on him but his hands on your waist keep you in place, glued to his torturing hips.

A strong smack on your right ass cheek makes another filthy sound escape from your lips right before you hear his voice. "Talk to me nicely," he warned.

"Do that again." 

Your plea makes him smile and move your ass up a bit to give you the first thrust after a while. His palm violently comes in contact with your cheek one more time and you fall even forward, hiding your face on his neck and whispering all the praises you could think of in his ear.

"That's it," he says as he continues hitting all the right spots inside you.

When his hand slides between your bodies and finds your clit you can't contain yourself anymore and fully sit on top of him to take a little bit of control, riding him while you chase your orgasm.

Even when you start begging for it over and over, he doesn't say a thing at your tireless plea. He knows you are once again at the verge of it by the way your inner walls clench around him. Instead, he keeps stimulating your clit while squeezing and sucking your boobs. Sitting in the middle of his bed with his dick buried inside you, he makes you work for it until you are coming all over him.

You keep moving, supporting yourself with your arms wrapped around his neck and riding out your orgasm until you feel the cold air hit your nipples, wet with the warmth of Hyuck's mouth before he was moaning out his own orgasm.

"Love you," he places a kiss at the top of your head, and caresses you gently along your back down to your thighs. "You're so, so beautiful."

You open your eyes and take a look at your surroundings while still hiding your face on Donghyuck's neck. Things look blurry and you feel a little dizzy. You're breathing heavily, but not only because of the amazing angry-make up sex you two just had. You're coming back to your senses, and your chest hurts and your eyes sting from holding on the tears; it's everything that happened this night taking over you all at once.

A sip from your nose is what gives you away and makes Donghyuck laugh.

"Aw, baby," he says with a squeeze on your asscheek. "Fucked you so good I got you crying?" Donghyuck takes your face in his hands and forces you to look into his eyes. His thumbs wipe away the thick tears that fall down your cheeks with care, and he kisses the pout on your lips over and over again, until they form a straight line. "Shh, it's okay baby. I know you didn't mean to get mad at me."

You shake your head and open your mouth, determined to speak, to tell him that things can no longer work like this, but you are interrupted by his lips and his hands making you start to move again on his dick, still buried deep inside you.

"I love you," he repeats in between kisses, and you moan. "I love you. Happy New Year."

And this time you shake your head in agreement, up and down in the same way that Donghyuck starts to move your body on him, hoping he would just shut up and stop lying for once. But you try to convince yourself that if you do it all again, that if you choose to keep seeing him, there will be just lust. No playing games, no believing in promises, no loving him, but lust. Because you can't let him go just like that.

Happy holidays everyone! If you liked this fic, please let me know. Feedback is always appreciated.

[froggyfics]

The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest - 5

Your wedding day arrives.

Note: (09/15/23) PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER. If you have read this series before this date, please note that I have combined chapters 1 and 2 together. This may seem confusing, but I have decided that as a creative approach, I would like the chapters to be longer. Therefore, the original chapter 4 is now chapter 3. Chapter 4 is new. This chapter and beyond are up to date.

Btw y'all it's gonna get saucy in the next chapter lmao

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Word Count: 4,844

This is the closest you’ve been with him in weeks. The intimacy of the moment is warped however, with underlying feelings of inadequacy. 

This is your wedding day. Yet, you feel as though you are imposter. You can feel the red-hot glares of the jealous maidens in the crowd. After all, you are marrying the most eligible bachelor in the entire realm. If only they knew that you felt sick to your stomach, and you wished that they were in your place. 

You don’t even look him in the eyes. You stare at his mouth, as if you needed to do so in order to understand the vows.

“I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

No, you won’t, you say to yourself. You led me to believe that we could be more, but you tricked me! 

He places a ring on your finger. Your hand suddenly feels like it’s weighed down by a ton of bricks. You nearly choke on your vows as they stumble out of you. When you arrived in Gotham a month ago, you were admittedly excited for this day. However, Damian’s icy demeanor as of late has left you bitter. How could it be possible to be so close with someone one day, and then completely cold the next. It befuddled you. Damianbefuddled you. 

Your vows were sealed with a chaste kiss. Cheers and whoops erupted from the crowd. Through the noise, you could distinctly hear your father’s booming claps and mother’s animated laughs. Of course they were happy! Their daughter was married off – to a prince no less. Your marriage ensured a lifetime of stability and wealth for them. Not bad for a baron and baroness. 

You wobble to the great hall for the wedding banquet with Damian’s hand clasped in your own. It wasn’t your choice to make physical contact – he was the one that initiated.

“Weddings are the end of their lives as they know it. The beginning of a prison sentence. The end of youth.”

This is an act. You must admit, if acting was a respectable career choice, Damian would be a top-notch performer. The vows meant nothing. The kiss was expected. The hand holding was necessary for the performance. 

You sat right next to your husband. Aristocrats, both strangers and now familiar faces, approach to wish glad tidings upon you and Damian. You accept their kind words as politely as you can. All the while, you twist your ring, round and round, underneath the table. 

You light up when Rachel approaches the table. A genuine smile finally crosses your face.

“Lady Rachel!” you call out excitedly. 

You jump when you feel Damian’s presence near your ear.

“How do you know of Lady Rachel?” he asks.

You gape at him while Rachel curtsies shyly. His question is not shocking – you chalk it up to mere curiosity. It’s the fact that he’s talking…to you! Willingly. And the conversation does not revolve around simple greetings or pleasantries. 

You can’t even answer him. Anger bubbles inside of you. He almost completely ignores you for four weeks and now suddenly acts like you should be receptive to his conversation. You have half a mind to ignore him in favor of speaking to Rachel. However, the ring sits heavy on your finger, and you suddenly remember your place. 

He is now your husband. He is the heir to the throne. If there is anyone you should hold your tongue towards, it’s him. 

“We met one week ago,” you reply. Rachel beams at you while you recount how you met her. 

“We’ve only become closer and closer, day by day.” You hold your hand towards her, and she takes it affectionately. 

“The princess is right,” Rachel adds. “It is almost like we have known each other our entire lives.”

Damian speaks only after he gulps his entire drink quickly. “Well, wife,” he emphasizes when he grabs your hand, “I am glad you have made a friend in Gotham.”

He smiles menacingly. You can tell by the way his lips unnaturally stretch over his teeth and the reddening of his face. 

Rachel glances at your conjoined hands and clears her throat. “Well, I just wanted to say that I wish for the two of you to be happy.” She raises her cup and you raise yours with your other hand in support.

“To the happy couple,” she concludes. The edge of the cup reaches her lips, but she does not drink. She instead curtsies once more and disappears among the crowd of people.

As soon as she leaves, Damian releases your hand, wiping his palm on his pants as if you were a leper. You clench your teeth so hard that they squeak in retaliation. You manage to take deep breaths to calm yourself – in and out, in and out, in and out. It’s truly an act for him. 

Everyone looks to be so happy. Not for you, of course not. They are happy for their own selfish reasons. Guests are fed the most delicious food and drink that the realm has to offer. Your parents rub elbows with highly ranked aristocrats. Your siblings dance merrily along the aisles. King R’as laughs heartedly a few seats away from Damian while speaking to his friends. Even Talia seems to be in a cheerful mood, scarfing down her food. 

Perhaps you can attempt to be happy, too. It is your wedding day after all. You inhale deeply to gather confidence.

“Husband.”

Damian doesn’t acknowledge you.

You clear your throat and repeat yourself once more.

He doesn’t even look up from his plate.

“Damain!” you half-shout.

His head shoots up immediately. “Yes, wife?”

You want to punch him in the throat. His polite tone seems genuine, but it sounds fake to your ears. 

“Are you…” You scan the great hall. “Are you enjoying the festivities?”

He nods his head slowly like he has trouble understanding your question. “Quite.” He returns to his plate.

You growl, but say no more. After all, there is no point making a concerted effort at conversation now when you apparently have the rest of your life to do so. You might as well take what little enjoyment you have now and ignore the glaring loneliness that dwells within you. 

The wedding took place at noon, but the reception continues well past sunset. You did not even know that there existed so much food in the entire city. Drinks flowed like a river all night long. Some people fell asleep in their seats, despite the rambunctious behaviors of others. Some people danced and danced until you thought their feet would fall off. 

You remain glued to your seat nearly the entire reception. There were a few moments where you stretched your feet, such as when the guests stacked cakes on top one another, so that you and Damian could kiss over them. You managed to peck each other’s lips without the cakes collapsing to the ground, which made the audience break out into cheers. After all, if the cakes fell, it symbolized bad luck for your marriage. 

As if you needed any more of that already. 

The reception seemed like it would never end. Your posture slowly deteriorated over the hours, until you were slumped in your chair. Muscle aches began to surface for sitting for so long. You wanted the night to be over. 

“Damian!” R’as called.

Damian pushes the table to make room to get up. He travels just a few feet farther to his grandfather who whispers something in his ear. Whatever was said made Damian stiffen and glance at you.

You suddenly develop that prickly feeling when you feel like someone is talking about you. Damian’s glance made you certain that you were the subject of their conversation. The realization made you shift in your seat. You decide to study the wooden table to distract yourself from your insecurity. 

A tap on your shoulder breaks your concentration. You find Damian looking down at you with a stoic expression. As usual, you can never determine what he’s thinking.

“Follow me,” he bluntly says. 

He doesn’t move an inch and you don’t realize until a few moments later that he expects you to get up first. You push yourself from the table and slowly stand up. You’ve been sitting for so long that your knees crack upon straightening. 

Damian maneuvers you so that you remain in front of him. He’s mere inches behind you and his hands fix themselves to your waist. He pushes you forward, directing you towards the door. 

The once lively room suddenly quiets down, until cheers are erupted once more.

You peer behind you to see that nearly everyone is looking directly at you. Men are jeering, throwing their hands in the air. Your father kisses your mother’s forehead while she blows a kiss towards you. Women are clapping obnoxiously. You face forward once again in mortification when you realize that they are cheering for your consummation. Everyone knows that you are walking out the hall a virgin – only to become a true wife by tomorrow. 

You look back again, scanning the crowd for Rachel. She has been one of the few sources of support you’ve had as of late. You just want to look at her, to search for comfort in her eyes. You find her violet eyes eventually, only for your humiliation to turn into sadness. Her eyes do not necessarily brim with tears, but they are certainly glossy. 

You give her a comforting smile as the door to the hall opens. 

Don’t be sad for me, you want to say to her, but the door of the hall closes before your message can be relayed through your eyes. 

Damian continues pushing you from behind through the castle. You are eventually brought to an all-too familiar, yet unfamiliar room. 

It certainly has changed since you were in here last, all those years ago. Damian’s room still exudes extravagance, worthy of an heir. However, small details have changed.

There are several arms-related items laying around. A full armor suit sits at the corner of the room. Several weapons – swords, axes, morning stars – are hung on the walls. Papers are strewn across the room. They’re on his desk and dresser and end tables. Most importantly, the room feels larger than it did when you were a child. Well, that was probably due to the fact that you felt smaller now than you did then. 

The door behind you slams shut. You jump in surprise at the loud noise and see Damian leaning on the door.

You hate it. You hate that you feel so nervous. It’s all too much. This room brings back happy memories that you cannot – should not – dredge up in fear of living in the past. You stand in a room, alone, for the first with someone known as your husband. Someone who is actually a stranger to you still. You can’t help but look down. It may be due to submission or shyness; you’re not entirely sure. All you know is that your girlhood has officially ended, and adulthood is crashing upon you.

You see his shoes from your peripheral. He stands toe-to-toe with you. You can’t bear to look him in the face. No good could come from falling for those green eyes. 

He cautiously raises his hands to your waist. You grow numb as he removes your belt. Your dress puffs out into a shapeless blob. 

He grabs your shoulder and turns you around, your back facing him. You can feel your dress loosening as he undoes your corset, one string at a time. Your breathing quickens at the intimacy of the act. You’ve had maybe two decent conversations with this man, and now, he has full access to your body. The discomfort makes you twitch.

“Raise your arms,” he commands. And you listen. He reaches down to hem of your dress, and pulls upward. You become blind momentarily until your dress is fully removed, and all that remains is your paltry smock. You feel overexposed. Your shoulders, arms, and legs are bare. Bare! You instinctively cover yourself the best you can with your arms, but Damian, while still behind you, firmly grabs your forearms to place them at your side. You gasp when he places a quick kiss on the back of your head.

You remain stuck in place despite hearing the crumpling of clothes behind you and await for Damian to direct you. There’s a creak, and several more creaks, and the crinkling of sheets.

“Come.”

You turn around and are met with a shirtless Damian, already beneath the sheets. He pats the unoccupied space next to him, and you follow his orders. You slink underneath the sheets and lay flat on your back, burning holes into the ceiling. The only sounds that could be heard is your breathing and the crackle of the fireplace. 

You await for his orders once more. And wait. And wait. And wait some more, even as he slips completely underneath the sheets completely. From your peripheral vision, you can see that he turns his back towards you. You bite your lips nervously and you dare lift your arm up in an attempt to touch him.

“Good night.”

His words make your arm drop back down onto the mattress. The finality of his words make you close your eyes. There is nothing to do, nothing to expect. He is an actor, and you are at the whim of his play.

The extinguished fire from the fireplace doesn’t wake you. Neither does the blearing sun peeking from behind the curtains. What does wake you are the stomps of your ladies-in-waiting. 

Your eyelids instantly open, the crust that developed during the night making it difficult at first. 

“Princess, it is time to wake,” Matilda says in a voice that it all too loud this early in the morning. She wretches the curtains open and sunlight streams in. You hiss at the light, still walking the line between unconsciousness and alertness.

Joan grabs your shoulders and heaves you into a sitting position. In a militaristic approach, Joan, Matilda, and Honora perform your morning routine. You’ve had a month to adjust to their “help”, but it has only become slightly easier to tolerate their grubby hands and rude shoves. You can only say – Ouch! – so many times until you realize they do not care if they cause you pain. You are a job for them. They may be your household staff, but they are certainly still Talia’s minions. 

The hubbub of the morning almost makes you forget where you are and what had happened the night before. You glance at the spot Damian was sleeping just a few hours prior. In his place is the outline of his body on the mattress.

“Where has my husband gone?” You wince when Joan tugs your hair particularly hard while brushing it. 

“You have been summoned by Lady Talia.”

It hangs in the air, but you don’t expect them to answer your original question. It’s the nature of your relationship with them. It only reminds you to formally add Rachel to your household staff. Perhaps an ally in the mornings would improve your days. 

You’re prodded and shoved and squeezed until you are dressed. A green and black gown once again. An emblem of the house that you married into. You are no longer a daughter of a baron – you are now a princess of the House Al Ghul.

You’re led to Talia’s room within the castle. A guard stands upright outside her door, and opens it for you and your brood. Within, you find your now mother-in-law with a table full of assorted small plates. Fruits, cheeses, bread. Your stomach grumbles in hunger, but you doubt you’ll be able to enjoy your meal. Not with Talia. 

“Lady Talia,” you politely greet. 

She waves you over without looking up. As you approach her, she finally glances at you, but now before grunting in disapproval.

She is now your mother-in-law. You must remain polite. You repeat the mantra to yourself several times as you become situated in the seat across from her. Your ladies-in-waiting stand off the side, along with Talia’s servants.

A moment passes. Then two. Then several. Talia says nothing and continues to eat. You recognize that she will not speak to you first, and that you must initiate the conversation. You desperately want to your roll your eyes, but you remember your mantra. 

“Ahem, Lady Talia,” you start. “I have heard that you summoned me. Might I ask why?”

She sharply glares at you. “Do I need a reason to call upon you? After all, you are now my daughter.”

“Of course not.” You smile as sweetly as you can while simultaneously wanting to burst. You stomach rumbles again to remind you that it is empty, so you swiftly gather some items to make your plate full. 

“Will Damian be joining us for this –”

“No,” Talia interjects. 

“Oh.” Silence befalls the room except for the occasional chewing of food. “Is it possible for my mother to come join us? She will be leaving –”

“No. Is my presence not satisfactory to you?”

“Of course it is, Lady Talia,” you grit. She feigns a smile at you, and her eyes sparkle.

She knows that she’s irking you. She loves it.

“Are you close with Lady Rachel of House Azarath?” you inquire. The best use of your time here with Talia is to at least introduce the idea of Rachel as an additional lady-in-waiting. 

Talia sips her tea generously before answering. “Yes, she used to be quite close to my son.”

“Well, her and I have only recently met, but we have become incredibly close. She honestly feels like a sister to me –”

“You’re talking about Lady Rachel?” 

You gulp and shakingly nod your head. “Yes, I am. Erm – like I was saying, she has become a true friend. Since my family will return to my birthplace soon, and I have left behind my childhood friends, I was thinking about having Lady Rachel join my household staff. As a lady-in-waiting.”

Talia stares blankly at you, her green eyes burrowing into your soul. Her façade soon begins to break as her lips twitch and her eyes crinkles. Soon, she releases out a howling cackle. She laughs and laughs, holding her stomach to support herself. 

Joan, Matilda, Honora, and the remaining servants in the room look to one another curiously before they begin to laugh as well. Their laughs start as awkward chuckles until they are bellowing to match their master.

You sit in utter disbelief at the situation unfurling in front of you. There’s a joke hidden in Talia’s laugh, but you remain oblivious to it.

“Oh, oh, my.” Talia wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “Why, yes, of course! Lady Rachel is free to join your household staff.”

Your face is red with embarrassment as the laughs finally die down. You’re not sure what the joke was, and you so desperately want to know. 

The food no longer looks appetizing to you. The measly few bites you had appease your stomach for the time being. Desperate for the attention to be off of you, the course of the conversation is redirected.

“Erm – thank you, Lady Talia. Say, how did you enjoy the festivities yesterday?”

“Ahem, yes, it was fine.” Her joyful tone suddenly reverts to its malicious nature. “I presume you enjoyed your wedding night, especially. How very lucky you are to bed a prince when you are…” She points in your general direction. “Well, when you are…you.”

A forced chuckle exits your mouth. Never have you ever met someone as blatantly, yet simultaneously subtly, rude. It dawns on you that her status allows her to speak however she wants, and that social graces are only for those inferior to her. 

“I am eternally grateful that Prince Damian chose me to be his wife.”

She waves your pleasantry off. “Yes, yes. After all, he chose you out of…every maiden. I am certain you will do your duties as a wife to ensure his happiness. As long as you bear him heirs, I suppose that is all I can ask for.”

The conversation feels unpleasant to you. After all, shouldn’t your marital relations with Damian be kept between you and him? Admittedly, you’re not sure whether you should alert Talia to the fact that you did notbed Damian last night. Sure, you slept in the same bed, but you are certain that is not what she cares about.

The question that she was dancing around finally is brought to the forefront. “Last night was…successful, correct?”

Your hunger has not yet returned, but you abruptly feel the urge to stuff food into your mouth to avoid answering her. 

“Mmhm.” 

She leans in dangerously close. She remains across the table, but it seems like she will pounce on you if you dare utter one wrong word.

“Did you bed Damian?”

You breathe in deeply, having had enough of the intrusion. “Lady Talia, I feel as though my relations with your son –”

“This is a yes or no question, dear,” she seethes. “Did you or did not do your duty as the wife of Prince Damian?” She slowly stands as she asks you her question, her anger palpable. 

“Does it matter?” you counter. “Why is that any of your business?”

“So, you did not bed him.”

You eye twitches in annoyance. “Lady Talia, I did not say that.”

“You don’t have to.” She slams her hands on the table, shaking it. You jump in surprise and grab hold onto the arms of the seat. The other women in the room hold their breath in frightened anticipation. 

“What was the point then? What was it?” She places her hands on her waist and circles you. “There were so many others – richer, prettier, friendlier. Some of them he grew up with. Why you if he doesn’t even want to bed you?”

You remain glued to your seat. Talia looks down at you with rage in her eyes, while you look back with confusion. You don’t know how to answer her question, because ultimately, you’re unsure of the answers yourself. If she had asked you a month prior when you first arrived in Gotham, you probably could have answered that you and Damian shared a sweet encounter from many years past, and that encounter led to your marriage. However, with Damian’s aloofness, you also are uncertain as to why you were chosen to be his bride.

Talia groans in frustration at your muteness. She stomps towards the door, but not before a servant rushes over to open it for her. You watch as she disappears into the hallway, presumably to confront Damian. 

You let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Take me back to my quarters,” you order your ladies-in-waiting. “And send for Lady Rachel.”

You pace back and forth in your room, practically burning a hole into the floor. A loud knock disrupts your fervent strides, and in comes your rescuer, Rachel.

“Rachel,” you whimper as your nearly run into her open arms.

Her arms wrap around you tightly, like how a snake suffocates its victims, except her hug was full of love instead.

You’re shaken up by your encounter with Talia, but the culmination of the previous 24 hours bears down upon you. You sink to the floor, Rachel helplessly attempting to lift you back to your feet, but the energy is no longer within you.

“Everything is wrong.”

“What is?” Rachel finally sinks to the floor next to you, holding your head to her bosom, holding you like a mother would do to console her child. 

“Everything. This cursed family has brought me nothing but misery. I will be miserable until the end of my days, I fear.”

Rachel gently quiets you and strokes your hair. “No, that will not happen. I will not allow that to happen.”

“It will!” you exclaim. “Damian hates me!”

“He does not hate you.”

“Yes, he does!” Embarrassment sinks into your bones when Rachel asks you to explain.

“Last night was a disaster,” you murmur into her chest.

Rachel stops stroking your head momentarily. “Hmm? How so?” She starts once more playing with your hair.

“I am…still a virgin.”

She pulls your head backwards so that her eyes meet yours. “Do you mean…he has not bedded you yet?”

You cringe in embarrassment. Her shock has only solidified your insecurity – something must be wrong with you. That’s the only explanation! 

“No, no, darling,” Rachel clucks. “Do not hide your face from me. It is not your fault – hey – look at me. It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.”

“Then, what is wrong?” You swiftly get to your feet and resume your pacing. “If not me, then what? It’s silly to think that there is another issue at play here.”

Rachel grabs hold of your shoulders and firmly shakes you. “Listen to yourself! You sound mad.” She looks around the room as if it isn’t empty and leans in close to whisper. “Understand that there may be other factors at play. The emotions of man can certainly affect his…libido. Take it from me, I should know.” 

She releases her grip, but remains planted in front of your face. “I have had…prior relations.”

You nod at her wide-eyed. This is the first you’ve heard of Rachel speaking about her romantic life. 

“Certain emotions can make it hard for a man to perform his husbandly duties. I do not think it wise to push the issue, as to not cause any embarrassment for him.”

You nod your head emphatically, whole-heartedly internalizing her speech. “But – what if he doesn’t bed me tonight either? Lady Talia is already speaking about heirs.”

“Again, do not push the issue. You would rather not face Damian’s wrath.”

A singular, harsh knock interrupts your discussion. In stomps in the subject of the conversation, the man of the hour, your lifeline and your ruin – Damian.

Rachel immediately curtsies out of respect and lowers her head. He opens his mouth to speak, but is seemingly stunned by the presence of another human in your room. He looks back and forth between you and Rachel.

“Husband,” you greet.

The sound of your voice brings Damian back from his trance. He nods his head towards the door and several servants, including your ladies-in-waiting, pile into the room.

“Wife,” he starts. He strides over to you and plants a kiss on your forehead. His lips leave a burning sensation on you, as his sudden display of affection jars you. “Pack your essentials. We leave soon for my father’s.”

“Damian,” you whisper. His face reveals his agitation: his lips are stretched into a scowl and his forehead wrinkles deeply. “Is everything alright?”

His palm reaches to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. You want to believe he does it lovingly, but your heart can’t take that risk. 

“You should have called upon me,” he murmurs. “As soon as my mother disrespected you, you should have come to me.”

You look down in shame. So, he’s heard of your interaction with Talia earlier that day. “I did not think that was an option. I did not even know where you were.”

He lifts your head up with his index finger on your chin. He bends as best as he could to meet you at eye-level. “Of course, that is an option. You are my wife.”

You swallow hard. The way he’s looking at you, and comforting you – it’s too much. It’s too sudden. You shimmy your way out of his grasp and look to Rachel for support, only to find her back facing towards you and Damian.

“Lady Rachel has been consoling me.”

Damian stiffens and his jaw tightens. “Thank you, Lady Rachel,” he starts. He looks over his shoulder her, and she does so too ever so slightly. Neither face each other completely, however. “You may now take your leave.”

Rachel nods her head and without turning to say goodbye to you, she starts heading towards the door.

“Wait, no!” you call out. You circle around Damian to reach Rachel’s arm. “Lady Rachel is to be my lady-in-waiting. She must remain by my side.”

Damian’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Your lady-in-waiting?” he repeats brashly. 

You huff in irritation. You’re not sure why everyone seems to be so astonished that you want Rachel to be a part of your household staff. “Yes,” you reply. 

Damian clicks his tongue in disapproval. The amorous façade he performed just moments prior is now gone. It’s been replaced with the real Damian – the stoic one. 

“Fine.” He pushes back you to reach the exit before stopping by the door. He doesn’t even turn around. “Remember, just the essentials. 

[phramboise]

— murder to excellence:: königxgn!reader

you know he’s going to pull the trigger eventually, how kind of him to wait a little longer. 💋

tags and warnings:: detailed torture (?), angst, hints of lovers to enemies, blood, character death, strong language, MDNI, 888 words, no gender related affirmations, no “y/n”s

“zehn,”

Everybody knows he’s cruel. Now that you’re tied onto the chair with ropes cutting your joints, you are once more aware. With his figure looming over you, his head almost brushes the light bulb hanging down the ceiling, he could kill you on the spot. He could crush your skull with his bare hands and it would be no sweat to him, he would sickly enjoy it. A ruthless monster.

“neun,”

Your body winces in pain, the knife draws down on your skin, a trail of blood follows along. He tuts, such a pity, he says. You shake uncontrollably, fever takes over you. Such waste you will be. Blood drips down your chin with every drop of rusty water leaking from the ceiling above your head. They move in sync, both taking the heat off your body, sending you into a frenzy.

The room smells like dust, coppery with blood pooling around your heels, wall paint and gunpowder. This is the end, you think. Would you even survive at this state even if he were to let you go? You highly doubt that.

“acht,”

“It’s infected.” He digs deeper into the bullet wound on your shoulder with the metal pipe in his hand, it throbs, and you can smell the wrenching liquid if you lean your head towards it. It feels like your heart pulsates all over your body, “How long has it been? The bullet’s twisting inside you. You’d need this arm amputated to live. That is, if you tell me what I want.” Shut up and just end it already.

You’ve lost feeling on your fingertips of your injured arm days ago. Feeling it with your other hand, the skin is cooler, and you don’t even feel a single tingling, not even when you pinch it with all the remains of your power. It’s obvious that he pities you, he didn’t even bother tying your hands together. He knows you cannot make it.

He’s not halfway done yet.

“sieben,”

Your ears ring as he slaps your face, the leather of his gloves imprinted on your cheek. Your head falls down. You feel the soft flesh bleeding inside your mouth, seeing the teeth on it now lay on the concrete floor. Tongue dancing over it, now blood fills your mouth too. It’s surprising that you have this much of it in you.

Is it better to speak or to die?

You never try.

“sechs,”

He’s not that gone in the brain, he does not enjoy watching you groan in pain, maybe just a little, for the limitless authority it provides. He can do anything he wants to you. He could waste his bullets on you, he could reload and do it over and over even with one being enough to kill you. He could take the air off your writhing throat, make you go limp with one hand wrapped around your delicate neck. He can just snap it, he can just slit it.

“fünf,”

Then, what’s stopping him? You’re not the vision he imagines in his dreams anymore, no. You’re a traitor. A bloody spy with a regret-filled past, tearing things just for the thrill. Look at you now. Tied helplessly for months. “Just tell me what I need, I’ll spare you. I truly mean to spare you.” You think he means it, that he’s beneath you, even now. He does not, and he surely isn’t.

Those days are long past gone.

Still, you’re one tough shit. Never parting lips, never making a word out. He decides to ask first. He’s been meaning to. Your lips twitch before putting on a smile as he tries to shake his thoughts off.

“Why?”

“It’s nothing personal, Liebling. Just business.” Last sentence can’t make it vocal, coarse feel of your throat barely makes it above a whisper.

He’s not good at reading people. All his life he believed the words they say are the ones they truly mean. He doesn’t get better this time either. He doesn’t need to anymore.

You’re the monster. A fucking siren that lured him into possessions he never thought he would experience, thinking you would get away without him realising you’ve been fooling him all this time.

He’s recluse indeed, but never is a coward.

You think you win. Can you ever?

“vier,”

He’s in a haze. He knew from the beginning what you are, yet he couldn’t stop himself from partaking in the compulsion you offer. He felt it on your skin, tasted it on your lips. The more venomous the feeling, the more it ignited.

Back then. Now he’s aware. That wasn’t love. That was an illusion. He was desperate back then to feel something, and you were there, giving it to him. He mistook it back then.

Not now, no.

“drei,”

Your head moves up as he grabs your chin firmly, lifting your head more than harsh, eyes meeting yours. You see, there’s no remorse when he looks down at you. Once with compassion, now with hatred. You missed the thin line, went overboard. You lost.

“zwei,”

You see the slight tilt of his head, and the twitch at the corner of his eye. Forehead meets the muzzle of the pistol, the one you gifted him, it’s cold against your skin.

He’s never felt worthy of love anyway.

“eins.”

He pulls the trigger.

...

[literaryvein-reblogs]

October Letters: Franz Kafka

Excerpts from Franz Kafka's letters to Felice Bauer:

13 October 1912

And do letters really get lost except in the mind of one waiting for them and unable to find another explanation?

But why haven’t you written to me?

I write this letter not so much in the hope of a reply as to discharge a duty toward myself.

23 October 1912

At least I now know that, even if letters get lost, I am allowed to write to you.

I am restless and cannot pull myself together; I am in the mood for continual and, as it were, circular complaining, although today is no longer yesterday; but the accumulation will overflow and liberate itself into better days.

24 October 1912

Of course it is impossible to tell me everything, but then everything is impossible.

On the contrary, I was relatively content to feel I was being left alone.

So many years went by without a word from you, and now it looks as though another month of oblivion is to be thrown in quite unnecessarily.

27 October 1912

I can be more cheerful, but not today; the rain has deprived me of my Sunday walk; spent—which only seems to contradict my first sentence—half the day in bed, the best place for sadness and reflection.

Shall I get up and stop writing? But perhaps you can see through it all that I am indeed very happy, in which case I can stay here and go on writing.

Out in the street I lapsed at once into one of my not altogether unusual states of semitrance, when I see nothing clearly, except my own worthlessness.

29 October 1912

I wish you would let me know about all this in five lines, so that rather than having to write and think about it any more, we could look at and listen to each other calmly, without self-reproach, you in your goodness and understanding, I in the way I must.

Thinking that I may have deprived you of a walk, that again is intolerable.

31 October 1912

I read the letter once, put it aside, and read it again.

With warmest greetings, and I kiss your hand, if that is permitted.

29 October 1913

At a certain depth, though not at the deepest, there is nothing I want more than to be swept toward you.

At a certain depth, though not at the deepest, there is nothing I want more than to be swept toward you.

But this is not all that’s going on inside me. My longing for you is such that it presses on my breast like tears that cannot be wept.

For weeks past I have been making plans for Christmas, in an effort to scrape together the sum total of happiness at the last moment.

In the seminar yesterday I stared at a girl for an hour because she bore a faint resemblance to you.

Late October 1914

Needless to say, I am ready at your first call, and would have replied without fail and by return to your earlier letter if I had received it.

In me there have always been, and still are, two selves wrestling with each other....

This is how it is, Felice. And yet they are locked in combat, and yet they could both be yours; the trouble is that they cannot be changed unless both were to be destroyed.

01 October 1916

Rotten, rotten night, partly your doing—dream doing.

28 October 1916

At one point I had to stop reading, sit down on the sofa, and weep.

It’s years since I wept.

16 October 1917

When I said: “So you are here? I was looking for you everywhere,” you answered: “But I heard your voice indoors only a moment ago.” Except for a few insignificant words we hardly spoke to each other again, although we continued to stand on the steps for quite a while, gazing out over the Ringplatz.

You were unhappy about the pointlessness of your journey, about my incomprehensible behavior, about everything.

I was not unhappy. “Happy,” on the other hand, would have been a very false description of my condition. I was tormented, but not unhappy; I did not feel the whole tragedy as much as I saw it, recognized it, and diagnosed it in its immensity which surpasses all my strength (my strength as a living man at least); and in this knowledge I remained relatively calm, my lips shut tight, very tight.

Excerpts from Franz Kafka's letters to Grete Bloch:

29 October 1913

And as I am sure you realize, there is confusion enough within me.

15 October 1914

You do say that I hate you; but this isn’t true. If everyone were to hate you, I wouldn’t hate you.

In fact I was sitting in your place, which to this day I have not left.

Excerpts from Franz Kafka's letters to Milena Jesenská:

22 October 1920

I'm also sure I'll stay in Vienna and that we will see one another.

Now it's almost certain I will leave.

27 October 1920

After that we were one, there was no more talk of knowing one another, and then once again we were split.

For the first time in years I was in bed as early as 9:45.

I was almost sad when I didn't see it Monday.

[nicka-nell]

Pairing: Suna x reader, Semi x reader, best friend Atsumu x reader

Note: Rockstar/Band-AU, angst, hurt, mdni, SMAU, text part

Addition: Hi you all! I had a lot of fun with this request. This is the end of the mini-smau for now. I would be happy if you tell me if you like stuff like this or if you like a HC in one post more. ☺️💚

Prev | Chapter 8 (END)

It was strange... Suna hadn’t had such a sickening feeling in his stomach for a long time. As if his stomach was spinning, as if he was about to vomit. But it wasn’t because of the alcohol, which he had been drinking almost like water recently. It was because he had seen the photos of you. The fact that he had read the news about you and Semi. Just the thought of seeing you with another man makes him angry. Jealous… 

“Shit!” he curses and slumps down on his bed, looking at his phone. At a photo that a paparazzo had taken of you. It’s not really sharp but Suna clearly recognizes your facial features and those of Semi... only that Semi is much too close to you for his taste… And yet you look happy... It frustrates him… Letting out a sigh, he closes the site with the picture, searches for some bars to blow off some steam, to numb his feelings. 

- - - - - -

“Semi, Semi Eita? Is that you?” it suddenly slips out of Suna’s mouth as he stands at the bar counter and sees a man who looks too much like the rising idol. The man puts his credit card in his pocket before he stares in Suna’s direction.

It is obviously Semi Eita… How pathetic… Life really wants to punish him even more than it already has. “Suna...” Semi says a little more quietly so that the other party guests don’t turn around and, in the worst case, recognize one of them. 

He takes a step towards Suna, standing proud and tall in front of the equally tall man with green eyes.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Semi asks, although he can guess what Suna wants from him. Suna looks past Semi, checking if you are anywhere to be seen. But he doesn’t see you. You’re probably in one of the VIP rooms, or Semi is here alone. But no, why should he go here alone?

As far as Suna could figure out, Semi doesn’t live anywhere near here. So why would he go to a local bar like this if he didn’t live here? You must be around here somewhere. This is his chance. Probably his last chance to talk to you. And even if he has to open every door to every single VIP room. But first he has to get past Semi. Giving Semi a slightly arrogant look, Suna puts his hands in his pockets. “As if... can’t a famous person just go out and party? After all, you’re here too.” 

Semi wrinkles his eyebrows skeptically. “But you spoke to me first... so what do you want? Do you want to talk about your ex-girlfriend?” Semi says a little more gruffly, but Suna continues to act nonchalant, even though his heart skips a beat at the word ‘ex-girlfriend’. 

“And what do you have to do with her?” he asks in an indifferent tone again, as if he doesn’t already know that there are several headlines about the two of you. Just as Semi is about to speak, the tall man feels a hand on his back and a few seconds later, you are standing next to him. “Eita... Tsumu met an old school friend and wanted to stay a little longer. Let’s go ho-” just as you’re about to finish your sentence, you see Semi’s grim eyes and look over to the front.

Your eyes widen, your mouth is suddenly dry and your hand, which was resting gently on Semi’s back a moment ago, clenches into a fist. What on earth is Suna doing here? It’s been so many months since he kicked you out of the band, but the betrayal is still buried deep inside you. Seeing him brings back all your feelings. His hurtful words, that cold look when he told you that nobody wants to hear your voice and how bad you are. His words had hurt you more back then than being kicked out of the band.

Suna’s heart starts to beat faster. It pained him when he finally saw you again. You may be wearing a face mask and a cap, but Suna would always recognize you, even from several meters away, with dyed hair, tinted contact lenses… He could always spot you. These green eyes look at you with an expression you can’t sort. Suna wants to say something, but he can’t think of any words. He just stands there, rooted to the spot.

“Eita... let’s go home...” you say, a little agitated, and grab his arm. Semi nods in understanding and takes the initial steps out of the club with you by his side. “Wait, let’s talk, please... P-please...” Suna says suddenly, instinctively trying to grab your wrist, but Semi stands between you, grasping Suna’s arm and giving him a serious look. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t want to make a fuss in front of so many people, just shakes his head before letting Suna go again.

“I don’t want to talk, Rintarou... Never again...” you reply in a cold, slightly hurt tone before walking out with Semi, not looking back in Suna’s direction.

Suna stands there frozen, not noticing the one groupie who approaches him and shakes his arm. “Oh my God, are you Suna? Can we take a picture together?” He doesn’t hear her. There are only two things going on in his head right now.

Atsumu, one of his closest friends, his bandmate was in contact with you all the time. Atsumu knew all the time where you lived, how you were doing… And yet he told him nothing. Suna cannot believe it. He feels betrayed by one of his closest friends. What about the others? Kita, Osamu, Yuki? Are any of them still in contact with you and no one has said anything? Suna can’t describe the feeling inside him right now.

He is angry, frustrated. His whole body feels warm and he can’t think straight right now. He feels like everyone has lied to him, lied to his face repeatedly, and watched him break down internally with a smile on their faces.

They all knew that he regretted it. That he kept trying to talk to you. It feels like everyone has turned their backs on him. Have let him down. “Shit...” Suna laughs in sheer frustration. Is that what it’s like to be deceived? Did you feel the same way back then?

Right now, Suna would like to go into every VIP room until he finds Atsumu just to pick a fight with him. Confront him. But he has no right to do so. Nevertheless, Suna would rather talk to you than to kick Atsumu’s ass. Again something shakes his arm and only now does he notice the fan girl. She looks at him questioningly.

When did she get here? What does this girl want from him? Instead of answering her question, Suna pulls his arm away and starts moving with a somewhat agitated, “Sorry, I have to go.” The girl seems disappointed, but Suna has no time for that.

Without turning in her direction again, Suna storms out of the bar, out into the now chilly night. Everything is already dark, only the faint illumination of the lanterns is still on. He turns to the left, then to the right. But you are not there. His legs instinctively start moving in the hope that he might find the right path. And it seems as if the gods are on his side. Because it doesn’t take long before he spots you with Semi on the other side of the street at the entrance to a small park. Uncharacteristically for him, he smiles faintly when he sees you, studies you and takes another step in your direction. But he soon realizes that the gods are not on his side after all. On the contrary… It’s as if they want to laugh at him.

Yet, he watches as Semi takes your hand, brings it to his still masked lips like a gentleman and kisses the back of your hand before taking a step backwards and pulling you towards him with a spin. Happily, you laugh and land in his arms, nestled against his chest, as you bury your head in the fabric of his jacket.

Your new lover runs his free hand over the back of your neck, strolling forward to your chin to pull your face up in his direction in a tender way. He glances around, but the street is empty. Suna is standing in a dark part of the street, so neither of you can see him. After making sure that nobody is looking, Semi takes off his face mask, slides his long fingers under the loop of your own mask before releasing it on one side and leaning down to give you a kiss that is so loving and gentle.

A kiss that Suna had always given you at the beginning of the relationship. A kiss that he would love to give you again. But instead, another man is kissing you now. Seems to make you happier than Suna ever could have. He knew that it would happen at some point. That you would find a new partner one day. But why now? And why does it hurt so much?

Suna feels sick again. He feels like he has to throw up and at the same time, it is as if he has run twenty kilometers. His chest hurts, he finds it hard to breathe and his eyes... they burn. They feel warm... and suddenly his vision blurs before something warm is running down his cheeks… Are those... tears? Is he crying?

Is he crying because another man is kissing you? No… It’s something else… It is the despair, the realization that he has actually lost the person who was so important to him back then… Still is. The realization that he took a wrong path. That the greed was too strong and he had lost sight of who and what had led him to form a band in the first place, to become successful. And that he had lost sight of the fact that he never wanted to form the band to become a worldwide celebrity, but to watch you shine on stage, blossom and live the dream you always wanted to live, while he supports you from the side with his guitar and vocals. He wanted to see you happy. See you smile and stay by your side.

And now... you seem to be happy… Very much so. However, without him. And knowing that this man, Semi Eita... that he makes you happy in a way that Suna couldn’t, is killing him. He feels like the road that lies ahead of him and separates him from you cannot be crossed. That you are no longer reachable for him, even though you are so close. Suna could stretch out his arm, maybe take twenty or thirty steps to catch up with you, hold you tight… But what next?

Suna looks at his hand, which he had unconsciously stretched forward. It trembles before falling back down, almost numb. He opens his mouth... but nothing comes out. It feels as if someone is choking him. Frustrated, he bites his lip and does nothing more than watch you move away from him, hand in hand with your new lover, until you are no longer in sight. It’s over… And it was his fault. His greed...

“Please... I’m sorry...” he whispers and looks into nothing but the darkness for a few more minutes. To where he saw you. Where he heard your laughter and saw the shining eyes that had unconsciously always made him smile back then. But now it is clear that all of this will remain just a memory for him. 

[chimivx]

ghosting ↠ txt

now playing ↠ pulling teeth • green day

He left you with letters. Envelopes that took you five years to finally read, acknowledge. They take you back through your past, forcing you to make moves not only for yourself, but for your family, for your children… His children.

part five of six ~ masterlist

word count ↠ 6036 warnings ↠ (same for all parts) 18+. mentions of drugs, alcohol, smoking. swearing. explicit sexual content. these people have kids, there’s family talk, pregnancy talk. absent dad, messy family ties. stepsib shit, stepcest. infidelity. if any of these things bother you, please keep scrolling . if i missed anything PLEASE let me know!! a/n ↠ if you are new to this story, don't start here! please go to the masterlist! major thank you to everyone who's read this story. cannot believe it's almost done... <3 xo posted ↠ 6/17/24 ~ 2:50 pm est.

~ february 2024 ~

Sitting on the plush carpet of your mothers living room, a beautiful bouncing baby boy sat between your outstretched legs. Munching on his fingers with a grin on his face, he watched his big brothers as they spun around to the rock music playing from Taehyun’s brand new record player on the glass table in the center of the room.

Across from you, laying on his stomach on the floor with his chin in his hands was Minho, smiling at his cousins trying to dance to the unsteady beat of Nirvana. The kid was almost a month away from turning ten, and though you just saw him a little over a month ago at Christmas right here in this very house, he had seemed to mature so much. He and his father, who sat beside the coffee table to your left, had both got haircuts, and the color of Taehyun’s was back to normal. 

Since Christmas the two of you have been talking more, texting more, letting the kids video call with one another, and things were going really well. The patching up of that relationship, the closure you both gave one another that was ten years overdue was needed, and it had helped immensely. Now you could carry on with a friendship, and be friends, something the two of you struggled with outside of one another.

Amongst the phone calls and messages there was a day spent together without kids, without Soobin, just you and Taehyun. You went for lunch, somewhere quiet in Sicuro knowing damn well you’d be too uncomfortable to go any further or into any other town. Soobin didn’t want you too far either, and you couldn’t blame him. You’d prefer it if he was always within a few miles radius of you anyways.

Over lunch, where the two of you spent hours, you shared conversation like you had over Christmas, dipping into details of life that either of you had shut out, or had been too intoxicated to piece together correctly. Your teenage life was mapped out before you, the two of you with blushing cheeks trying to work out your shared trauma.

The further you delved into the timeline the more you could tell Taehyun was trying his absolute best to stay present. His sober eyes, awake and alert, his chest taking in deep breaths to the slow count of four… Something you knew all too well. With a reassuring nudge of your foot against his underneath the table, he’d smiled, knowing that you were with him, that you were there for him. He wasn’t alone, and you vouched from then on that he never would be.

You’ve healed enough to not hold his past against him, knowing that you yourself were not a perfect person.

He apologized for the summer night at the club years back, appearing teary eyed as he fought the words out of him, every other sentence broken, his eyes finding it near impossible to look into yours. But, he did. He reached for your hand, held it gently, and apologized. And you cried, because he remembered it all. Every detail. Every feeling. He had never told another soul, he had kept it all inside, not even talking about it with the friend you once shared.

The one who turned into the next topic of conversation on hour three of you sitting in the booth in the back of the restaurant.

Things had gone quiet, after the apology was shared and Taehyun had spoken his peace, neither of you knew what to say. 

At Christmas, the letters were given to you, by Taehyun himself. Envelopes you didn’t have the guts to open, but your husband did.

You had told Taehyun very little of what you felt, what you experienced. So you laid everything out there, filling in the blanks for him, telling him how it all went down, how it happened, how you wound up with your beautiful boys who were the light of your life, but beginning to worry you with their behavior. 

And though tears slipped down your cheek while you spoke of your history with him, with Beomgyu, you knew you were where you were meant to be, and you admitted that to Taehyun, the once questionable fate you had succumbed yourself to, and he too agreed, Soobin was where you were meant to be. Something he’s mentioned to you before.

Pieces of past Christmas were funny, some parts making you question whether or not your certainty was correct. It’d been brought up multiple times, from two different mouths, and then, in the end, the bomb had been dropped.

The twins belonged to Beomgyu, he was their father. In your timeline, in your math, he was their father. You never had to question it, you never had to double check, you were certain. However, those many years ago there had been two of them, both boys, and they overlapped before the nights turned into one. You had no reason to question until Christmas, when your twins seemed to take to Taehyun a lot quicker than you and Soobin had anticipated. Even though the boys looked like you, looked like Beomgyu… Taehyun and Beomgyu both had the eyes, the wide, beautiful, galaxy filled, warm brown eyes. And, so did your twins.

After your mother assumed she knew who really fathered the twins, when up until that day she had seemed to believe you when you told her it was Soobin, you knew you needed a definite answer, one on paper. If not for your own confirmation, but for her. To tell her you didn’t have Taehyun’s children while he was married to another woman with two kids of their own. To not give her the satisfaction of being right, like she always wanted to be.

The kids weren’t his, and though you never spoke to her about it after, the need to prove your mother wrong persisted.

It sucked admitting it to Taehyun. It was entirely humiliating to ask him to do what you needed him to do, but he obliged. Quietly, barely uttering any other sound, he understood, and he assured you that you had no reason to be ashamed. Even he was sure that the boys weren’t his, though his thoughts were somewhat swayed over the holiday weekend because of his step-mother.

That evening after spending an incredulous amount of time out with him, he accompanied you back home where he spent a few more hours with you, Soobin and the kids, Mina sitting on his lap while he filled out some paperwork and swabbed the inside of his cheek. His kids were with Sana, the two still sorting out custody and dealing with judges and court dates.

Within the single evening he spent with your family, Soobin’s opinion of Taehyun had changed entirely, and by the end of it all he even walked him out to his car, leaving him with information and details on how to handle his situation, details you couldn’t even begin to understand. Details you wondered if you’d ever have to deal with…

Sitting here on the floor of the house you grew up in, with your kids giggling up a storm, and a piece of paper folded up in your back pocket, those same thoughts still lived in your mind. Custody, judges, court. A month later and he was still living it. Sana was relentless, she’d never give up.

Especially since over lunch that day Taehyun had told you that she’d found out about you. All of you. The time you shared. All of it, and that she had known for a long time, before divorce was even an option. Aside from the love affair you shared for half of your life, he very blatantly had cheated on her and had been content getting away with it until he grew the balls to file. It went without saying that Sana was pretty content with him getting away with it as well, as long as Taehyun kept bringing home the paychecks.

Now that they were divorced, and she was only getting a still decently sized cut for child support, she had the ability to keep the kids away from him, possibly for a very long time since she knows he’s currently fighting to stay sober. Another reason tacked onto the never ending reasons to despise Sana list.

Leaning backward, toppling onto your thighs, Wonwoo smiled up at you and cooed, his tiny hands reaching upward. Folding in half, covering him completely, you smother his cheeks with kisses and giggle along with him, the sound echoing through the room over the music. One of the twins whipped around, Chan, and dropped to his knees between your legs, one of his joints landing straight on top of your own.

Your gasp of pain, which was really just a reaction to the collision, and the way you gripped your knee over your jeans made Chan freeze for only a moment. Placing a hand over yours he scooted closer to you.

“Sorry, Mama,” he said, studying your expression, searching for the right answer. It was an accident, truly. He knew this, you knew this. Over the last few months however, these accidents have been more frequent. Keeping track of them all, keeping in mind that he was only a five year old boy, the moments of outbursts, tantrums, and accidents like this- happening to more than just you- have been too many to count.

His brown eyes, wide, waiting for you to say something, they made you gulp. Pulling Wonwoo into your arms, situating him over your left side, you nodded at your son and took his hand into your own. “It’s okay, it was an accident, right?”

“Right,” Chan said, his gaze traveling to his brother on your hip chewing on his fingers. “Can Wonwoo play?” He bounced on his knees, brushing his hair out of his eyes. It was too long, he needed it cut, both twins did. The usually straight, thick dark locks were nearing their shoulders, edging the base of their neck. The longer their hair got, and the older they grew, the more it seemed to wave at the ends. Covering their ears, bangs teasing their lashes… You didn’t have the heart to cut it off.

You hadn’t seen him in years, and yet here he was, sitting in front of you.

“Wonwoo can’t play right now,” you said, tucking some of Chan's hair behind his ear, smiling as he shied under your touch. 

Scooching closer to you he sat on your other thigh, cradling his chin in his hands as he watched his little brother. “Why?” 

“Because he’s getting sleepy, it’s almost time for him to go to bed.” From your left you could feel Taehyun’s eyes on you.

Chan stared at the baby. His gaze unresponsive for all of two seconds. “But he can play at home?”

You gave him a smile, placing a hand gently on his back. “He can play at home, you do big kid things here, he isn’t a big kid yet. At home Daddy and Mama can watch you with him, but there’s so much going on here.” Your five year old thought to himself, still eyeing Wonwoo content on your side, not an ounce of eye contact made before he spoke again.

“But, why?”

“Hey, Chan,” Taehyun’s clear, deep voice called over to your son, his little head lifting to look over at his uncle sitting criss-cross on the carpet. “C’mere.” He waved a hand toward himself, Chan leaping off of your leg with a shout, running toward him.

Groaning, you started, “Tae, hold out your-”

But, your warning was cut short with another shout, a high pitched shriek startling Wonwoo. Chan jumped onto Taehyun, and, maybe it was dad reflexes, but he caught him. Pulling him into his chest, holding him tight, rocking him back and forth as they laughed, your step-brother shot you a look over the little one's shoulder.

“Hey, I want to play!” With folded arms Sunoo watched his brother and uncle. The smallest pout was forming on his lips. Taehyun smiled at him and waved another hand, shifting Chan over to one side, catching Sunoo with his other side as the child launched himself at him. Between laughing fits, you caught Taehyun’s eye once more, the two of you sharing a smile.

“Minnie?” Taehyun questioned, glancing at his son who watched him as well, entertained by the children attempting to tackle his father to the ground. “Wanna take your cousins upstairs?” 

Minho leapt to his feet and sighed, but not with discontent, with preparation for what he was signing himself up for. Taehyun nodded toward him, then with both hands grabbed the collars of the twins' shirts and peeled them off of him. The boys, finding it funnier than anything else in the world, tossed out their little hands trying to either hit Taehyun or grab onto him.

“Minho wants to show you guys something,” he said, dodging flying hands. 

“Boys, we don’t hit,” you spoke up, moving onto your knees, keeping Wonwoo on your hip. Neither twin spared you a moment. “Boys!”

“Go upstairs with him, he has something fun-” 

Chan made contact with Taehyun's cheek, his palm no bigger than half the surface he’d hit. It wasn’t hard, he didn’t hurt him, but he still hit him. Sunoo was the only one to react to the sound, until their father set foot in the room, their little sister propped on his hip.

“Choi Chan!” The sound of Soobin’s raised voice spun them both right around. Taehyun dropped his hands and pulled them into his lap, sending a look your way. Your eyes apologized to him, for the smack and for what was about to happen. These moments of parenting, of reprimanding, of learning, they were becoming a wildcard, so much so that even Soobin was having a hard time figuring out how to deal with them. 

A shit eating grin lived on Chan’s face as he gazed up at his father, one incredibly jarring the first time it made an appearance. Gripping the denim of his jeans, Chan bounced his knees and let out the quietest laugh. Sunoo beside him, the complete opposite.

It would be one thing if both twins were the same, if they both acted the same, and though sometimes they do, in moments like these their ways were completely different, making the parenting, the learning, so much harder.

“I don’t think anyone here found that funny,” Soobin said, his voice returning to a normal volume. Taehyun reached over to the record player, turning the volume down. The movement caught Chan’s attention. “Look at me, please.”

Sunoo was a rock, his brown eyes glued to his father. Chan however, watched Taehyun sit back in his place, and then he bounced on his toes and tried to walk back over to him. Reaching in front of you, you were able to grab onto his wrist and maneuver him back, keeping him where he needed to be. The five year old looked at you, whined, then turned back to Soobin. On his hip in a fuzzy blue footed onesie, Mina pointed at Taehyun and smiled, flashing her gappy little teeth. Her uncle pointed back to her and grinned, subsequently making Chan try to turn again.

“Chan, we don’t hit.” Soobin hadn’t moved an inch.

Your son wriggled his wrist out of your hold. “It was a accident,” he said, looking at you, then Soobin. “A accident.”

“I know you were playing,” Soobin said. “But, I saw you trying to hit Uncle Tae, and then you did.”

Chan clenched his hands into fists and stomped a foot on the ground. Covering one of Wonwoo’s ears you pressed his other against your chest, holding his head there. Even Sunoo knew what was coming after the stamp, he covered his own ears.

“ACCIDENT!” Chan screamed, covering his eyes with his hands, the tears following soon after.

Trying to take one of his hands again, he swatted you away and fell onto his knees. Sighing, Soobin put Mina on her feet and she toddled over to Taehyun, falling into his lap. Your girl wrapped both hands around one of his fingers.

“Soobin, he’s very tired,” you said to your husband quietly as he approached the fallen twin, brushing a hand gently over the hair of Sunoo still standing, hands clamped to his ears. “We’ve been here all day, no nap. That makes it worse.”

Looking at you he crouched down, laying a hand over Chan’s back. He knew what little sleep did to the boys, how it affected their behavior, they were kids. When kids were tired, exhausted even, they tended to misbehave, or throw tantrums such as this one. Chan was different. This type of tantrum happened no matter how tired he was.

Making choices as a parent was possibly the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do in life thus far. Each decision impacted your kids and had an effect on their future and the people they’d grow up to be. With Chan folded over on the floor sobbing into his hands, you weren’t sure whether to let him cry or try to get him to stand back up. Half of you wanted to pick him up and tell him it was okay, just to keep him from feeling upset, but then the other was telling you that there were consequences to his actions and he needed to learn from them.

You know, so he didn’t grow up to be someone who punched holes into walls.

Even then, with how differently his brain worked from other children, how exactly were you supposed to do that?

“Chan, when you’re ready to talk to us we’re right here.” Soobin leveled his eyes on his son, tracing a reassuring circle over his back. At a loss, feeling your own tears seconds away from spilling, you trained your gaze on your husband and took a deep breath. 

His calm, gentle giant-ness was how. He was how you’d make it through, he was how you’ve made it through the last six years. He’d be able to get you through many more.

Behind the twins Minho had snuck over to Taehyun, sitting beside his father and Mina, keeping the two year old occupied. Taehyun bounced her on his knee as she traced Minho’s features with a single finger, her cousin leaning into her with pouted lips. The little girl had such an attention to details even at her small age. You were certain she’d grow up to be as smart as her father.

“Everything okay in here? Where’d my granddaughter go?” Your mothers voice was heard before she was spotted. Soobin, closing his eyes, took a short breath, and you and Taehyun seemed to do the same. Your step-brother held in his laugh, catching a glimpse of Soobin’s dismay.

Turning into the living room with her husband close behind, Joy, dressed in a strapless black jumpsuit that bunched at her ankles, leaving room for her strappy black heels to be tied there, looked over the scene on her floor, then tossed her hands out at her side.

“We’re good, Mom,” you said, grilling her from where you sat. Her tendency to get involved with parenting your children happened more often than the tantrums from the boys. She never had the chance to do it with Taehyun’s kids, so you took the brunt of it all. Another reason to be jealous of Sana.

Jin placed a hand to Joys shoulder and smiled at you, the man knowing how his wife would act. “Let them do their thing.” Joy gasped and whipped around to tap him on the chest of his blue polo.

“Mom,” you sighed, finding that Sunoo was watching them, seeing his grandmother hit his grandfather right after the start of a no-hitting lecture. Joy whirled back around with wide eyes.

“What!” Her laugh made both Taehyun and Minho cringe.

“Just… please, don’t,” you said. Seeming to catch on after scanning the room, Joy pressed her glossy lips together and cocked her chin back. Her eyes landed on the twins, scoped over Soobin’s back, took Taehyun in for a few seconds before she glared at you. For a second her lips parted and your heart sunk through the million dollar floor. “Don’t,” you spat, quickly.

“I’m bringing out the cake,” she muttered, then spun on her toes and led Jin into the kitchen.

At the mention of dessert, Chan poked his head up, his crying having ceased a few moments ago. Sunoo removed his hands from his ears and tilted his head to check on his brother, crouching down like Soobin was. The boy would always try to mirror him.

Subsequently, they both spoke to Chan at once, saying, “Feel better?”

Soobin withheld a smile, but glanced at you before taking his hands around the boy's torso, tugging him onto his lap. Chan curled up, slinging an arm around Soobin’s waist.

“Are you ready to talk?” Soobin asked. Hesitating, it took Chan a few seconds to answer with a head nod. “Can you say the word, please?”

Chan took a breath. “Yes,” he said, voice wobbly.

“It’s okay to be upset,” Soobin kept his focus down, his full attention on his son, no matter how many other people sat in this room. “You’re feeling some really big emotions and I know they’re hard for you to understand right now. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Chan whispered. His eyes found his twin.

“Are you able to tell me what you’re feeling? Can you name your feeling?”

Sunoo said, “Sadness.”

“Sunoo, let Chan answer, okay?” You popped in momentarily, giving the boy a small smile. “That was a really good answer, but let’s hear what your brother wants to name it.”

Soobin didn’t look away from the boy in his arms, not until Chan mumbled, “Anger.”

“Thank you,” Soobin said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You’re feeling red, and like you want to yell?” Chan answered with a nod that Soobin allowed. “What happened to make you feel that way?”

Your son hesitated again, this time shrugging his shoulders, mumbling, “I dunno.” Waiting for anything else to come out, Soobin shut his eyes after Chan said, “Because of Daddy.”

“Because I told you not to hit?”

Another nod.

Soobin took a deep breath. “What do you think Daddy felt when he saw you hit Uncle Taehyun? When you know you aren’t supposed to be doing that?” Chan hid his face, muttering something only for Soobin to hear. “Sadness and Anger? Blue and red? How come?” Inaudible mumbles came from your boy. “Right, it’s not okay to hit somebody, and it makes Mama and Daddy upset when you do.” Unburying his face, Chan sat up and rubbed his eyes.

Sunoo put a hand on one of his brother's knees. “I felt Sadness.”

“When I hit?” Chan asked him, and Sunoo bobbed his head. “I am sorry.”

Soobin nudged the boys back. “Go tell who you need to tell.”

Rising to his feet, sniffly as ever, Chan took his time approaching Taehyun’s side, putting a hand gently to his shoulder. Eyes darting around like mad, your son pushed out a quick, “I am sorry I hit you,” and then took two steps backward.

Taehyun, new to the whole idea of how you parent your children, gave Chan a small smile and bowed his head. Chan put his hands over his chest and tilted his head.

“Uncle Taehyun, you say that it’s okay,” Sunoo said, standing to his feet.

Soobin took Sunoo by the hand and shook his head. “Sometimes it doesn’t work that way,” he started, and both twins eyed him curiously, this being the first they’ve heard of the concept. “Sometimes… When we hurt people it affects them, and even though sometimes we say sorry, it doesn’t take away from the fact that we’ve hurt them. Some people will accept your apology, and some people won’t.”

“What if somebody hurts you and they don’t say sorry?” Sunoo asked.

Taehyun met your glance, the power within it blazing hot.

Soobin thought to himself, carefully reading the room, analyzing every energy, old and new. “Then, you have to learn to forgive them yourself, and move on, to heal. Otherwise, you’re stuck with a wound,” he scrunched his nose, “an ouchie, that can hold you back from great things.”

Chan faced Taehyun, his uncle ripping his eyes away from you to look up at him. “Do you accept my… Apology?” The five year old sounded out the word, bobbing his head as he did.

Taehyun seemed to study him, your boy with fluffy hair and sappy eyes. He was about to smile, you could see it ghosting his lips, but he waited, his mouth slightly pulling downward as your boy waited with a patience unknown to his begetter. 

He could see him. 

“I… I do.” Taehyun’s voice was so low it was almost a whisper. “I accept your apology.” He finally smiled, shifting his eyes to you before looking down at Mina gazing up at him.

“She thinks you are pretty,” Sunoo said, getting a laugh out of you, your step-brother and his son. Mina had a habit of staring at things, whether they be right in front of her, on a screen, if she found them enticing.

Soobin let out a harsh, breathy laugh, then stood up with, “No thank you, Sunoo.”

Darting his eyes to Soobin, Taehyun wore a cautious smile, one that grew into fruition, spreading across his cheeks as your husband smiled back, in understanding, a sight you’d never thought you’d live to see.

“Come on,” Soobin held his arms open for Mina who wobbled to her feet and rushed into his fathers hold. The twins stood on alert, eyes full of respect for their father. Once Mina was situated on a hip, her hands grabbing onto Soobin’s t-shirt, he bounced her once and said, “Let’s go sing Happy Birthday to Uncle Tae.”

About an hour after the kids climbed onto Taehyun somehow, scream-sang their birthday song to him, blew out his birthday candles, you found yourself standing around the kitchen island with Soobin and Taehyun. Wonwoo sat on the edge of the counter in front of Soobin, your husband's hands holding his waist while the little one kicked his legs and learned to hold his balance on his own. The other four took off to the second floor, most likely messing with whatever they could find in yours and Taehyun’s old bedrooms.

Jin and Joy were up there with them now, your mother with Mina attached to her hip thankfully, you and Soobin both knowing your two year old would not be left unsupervised with any of the boys. As much as they were airheaded parents, they sure were wonderful grandparents, ever since Rose was born. Even before she was born. Even now that she’s missing her own fathers birthday celebration with his side of the family, cooped up with Sana somewhere down in Avida. They loved her. They loved them all.

Squishing leftover icing on a small ceramic plate on the counter you all stood around, you eyed Taehyun and his full-of-life grin while he spoke with Soobin about Minho and the stuff he’s currently dealing with in school, how fourth grade seemed to be much harder now than it was when the three of you were in elementary school. His eyes sparkled, his eyebrows moved with a calculated ferocity. He was present. He was here, in the room with you, fully.

“Can’t believe you’re thirty-three,” you said once their conversation died down. Taehyun blew a raspberry on his lips and Wonwoo’s head whipped toward him.

“You’re not far behind.” Raising a brow he shot you a look before poking your son's cheek, getting a smile from the little one. 

Smiling at him, you said, “No, I’m not, but at least I’m the last one to get there.” Soobin huffed a laugh, shaking his head. He hit thirty-three first, back in December.

Taehyun gripped the edge of the counter with two hands and cocked his chin backward, in thought, like he was struck with the same realization you were. By the first of April you’d be thirty-three, a while away from the beginning of February, Taehyun’s actual birthday happening last weekend. There was someone meant to fall between you two. The thirteenth of March, the date he’d reach thirty-three, joining Taehyun, leaving you behind.

Soobin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence. “Taehyun, when was the last time you spoke to him?” It was gentle, the question asked in the softest way possible, Soobin’s volume staying within the three feet of space you shared.

Air was knocked from your lungs at the sudden inquiry, not that Soobin never spoke of it before. The two of you planned to ask him, but you weren’t prepared for it to come from your husband's mouth. With one of Wonwoo’s hands wrapped around his finger, Soobin looked at Taehyun with a confidence, one that he’s worn in his eyes since the day he asked you to marry him. One you used to wonder if it was fueled by anything other than pure love.

Taehyun took a long, deep breath, his eyes dancing all over the kitchen. They landed on you for only a second, your own begging him to tell you, to speak to you, to speak to Soobin. It was common for him to shove everything into a box at this point, swallow the pain away, act as if it didn’t have any effect over him. 

But, that was the old Taehyun.

He gulped, sinking into himself for a moment, somehow talking himself out of the hole he was ready to burrow under.

“On my birthday.”

You didn’t mean for your sigh to be as heavy as it was, but it made him close his eyes. “That’s last week.”

He nodded, opening his eyes a bit to stare at the marble under his fingers. “Yeah, he… He called me. But, before then I hadn’t really spoken to him since before Christmas.” He hesitated before adding, “Was nice to hear his voice.”

Clenching your fingers into fists, you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and bit down hard. Across the counter from you Soobin gave you a look so intense it had the power to calm you down without saying a word. With a tiny nod toward your step-brother, Soobin encouraged you to ask him what you needed to ask, tell him what you needed to know. 

“Tae,” you started, voice the smallest it’s ever been. He couldn’t look at you, but he tried. “We… we tried calling him. After you came over that night. Well, it took two days for me to grow the balls to do it.” Soobin nodded along as you spoke, eyebrows pulled to the center of his forehead, feeling everything you were feeling. “We don’t know if he has a new number, or if he was just… busy, because…”

Soobin tilted his head, stretching his free hand across the marble, barely reaching you. Intaking a shaky breath, finding Taehyun's full attention over you, you whispered, “Because I haven’t spoken to him in five years.”

“I know,” Taehyun’s voice was as loud as yours, a whisper, a secret to keep.

“We had a night, after processing a lot,” you nodded with Soobin, the two of you remembering the two days after your outing with your step-brother and how hard it was reliving everything. “And, we decided-”

“You decided,” Soobin cut in for only a moment, always telling you that it would be your choice whether or not to move forward with anything. He’d never let you forget that.

“I decided,” you looked back at Taehyun, “That I… Maybe felt ready to just… contact him and see what happened. Catch up for a second. Check in.”

Whatever emotion struck him across the face was unreadable. “He’s not… No, he can’t. You can’t.” Silence fell. Nobody moved, not even Wonwoo.

Years ago you’d have shouted at him to tell you more, to keep going, to not bottle everything up and keep it to himself. It was the most exhausting way to live, to have nothing but half assed explanations and lazy reasons as to why things were the way that they were. It was his coping mechanism, you’ve learned. He despised confrontation, he’d do anything to avoid being completely honest, because everything hurt him as much as it hurt you.

Now, two grown adults who were no longer sloppy children, you didn’t want to shout. You didn’t want to fight. You also didn’t want to push him away, knowing that if you ever did you’d be putting him back in that horrible place he fought so hard to get out of. So, you waited, for as long as he needed.

And, after a few minutes, Taehyun said, “He doesn’t use his phone, but he has the same number. It’s with Jungkook, all of his stuff is. Up in Soro, he still lives there with Chaeyoung and Tzuyu.”

“Jungkook does,” you clarified, and he nodded. 

“You don’t know anything that’s happened, do you?” His question struck your heart. A sharp, twisting pain you haven’t felt since your twins were born.

Reaching a hand into your back pocket you slid the piece of paper out and unfolded it with shaking hands. Laying it flat on the marble you pointed to a 0% beside the words probable paternity. Taehyun swallowed hard, touching the edge of the paper, sliding it closer to him.

“I know one thing that’s happened,” you said. “And so do you.” He gave you a look, your stomach twisting in knots at the teal-green emotion within his eyes your kids would be able to name. “Thought this would be a nice birthday present.” He attempted to wipe the look off his face, but he was unsuccessful. “Now we know for sure, and if Joy has some shit to say we have proof.”

Soobin didn’t bother to clock your bad word. Not right now.

“Taehyun,” you whispered, eyes darting back and forth between his beautiful brown gaze. “Where is he?”

10/7/2023

…I don’t know why it’s so scary when the scariest part of my life so far has been becoming your dad. Knowing that I was struggling, knowing that I was so unhappy, it was what I had to do. She needed to go back, I know that. There wasn’t anything left for her here, nothing I could give her so she could live her best life. That’s why I admire him so much. Soobin. That’s a good man. That’s the man you need to grow up to be. To step up when a loser rolls over and runs away. To love someone unconditionally. To protect the person you love. It’s something I could never do, I just brought harm. I brought pain, and even when I had the chance to do something about it… I ran away. I don’t want to blame my brain for it, I really don’t, always hated doing that ‘cause it’s not an excuse, but… It’s my life. I know what I’m like, even though I'm not always there. My brother always told me I was really good at being self-aware and suffering because of it. So here I am. Suffering because of it. I’m not saying any of this for pity, because trust me it feels wrong to be writing any of this down. Self-aware. I’m saying this so you know the truth. So you know who I am, who your dad was. In case anything happens, in case I don’t ever get to meet you. I love you both, and I love your mom. I love her so much. Listen to her, listen to Soobin. Take after him, take after the good men in your life. Grow up strong, and smart, and kind hearted. Love your friends, love your family, love yourselves. Do good things, be good. I want nothing more than for you to have the most wonderful life…

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thank you so much for reading. <3

[lotrandthehobbitwritings]

Arrival of Spring

Pairing: Elrond x (fem!) Reader

Genre: fluff

Warning: none

Words: 2430

Rivendell existed for a little over one and a half millennia. It was prestigious, peaceful, beautiful. Your family originated from Lothlórien, your father was a well trusted guard of Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, which earned your family a great reputation. You were always seen walking the royal gardens, making lots of girls your age jealous as very few people out of the royal family had access to those places. But you being friends with Celebrían gave you an easy way in to all those forbidden areas. That was years ago though, as you now lived in Rivendell alone. What made you move to Rivendell, leaving your family behind in your homeland? Elrond, lord of Rivendell came to Lothlórien after the War of the Elves and Sauron, explaining that he planned to establish a life there and wished it could serve good purposes. Hearing of it, you thought he was noble, and felt as it was your duty to help him achieve his goal. And you did just that.

Elrond was more than appreciative of anyone that wanted to establish a life there and help make this place a welcoming heaven. You were amazed at how easily everyone got acclimated and how quickly this place was becoming what Elrond wished for it to be. As the months went by, you grew quite fond of your new home. You loved how peaceful and quiet it was, you loved taking walks along the many bridges, sitting on benches under the gazebos to read a book while the misty air of the nearby mountains left a cool feeling on your pinkish cheeks. The sound of the river falling over rocks was so relaxing that you could easily spend hours at the same place without noticing time going by. And today was one of those days.

You had been sitting under one of the highest gazebos, reading a book you took from the library this morning. There was a light spring breeze, the flowers were in bloom and birds were making their nest in the highest branches of Rivendell’s trees. Your hair was flowing in the wind, a lock often finding its way in your face, disturbing your reading. After tucking the said lock of hair behind your pointy ear, you resumed to your activities, reading the last few sentences of the chapter that now began to make way more sense than when you read the first phrases of it a few pages back. Time went by, and slowly the air became colder as the sun started making its descent in the sky, gradually making space for the moon to replace the biggest star’s warm light by its cold one. But your body didn’t acknowledge it, after all, elves don’t react to cold weather as easily as others. However, it wasn’t the cold that snapped you out of your reading, but a voice coming from behind you.

‘’Why am I not surprised to find you here?’’

The voice made you jump, yet made you smiled as you recognized it immediately. You turned your head and faced the dark-haired elven lord.

‘’You should come inside’’ Elrond said.

‘’I will, brennyn nín’’ you answered while smiling. ‘’it appeared I lost track of time once again’’

Elrond smiled back and offered you his hand so that you could stand up. He watched as you carefully closed the book, which you almost finished reading, and took his hand, getting up from the white stone bench that was beautifully sculpted.

‘’Please, just call me Elrond’’ he said with his smile still present.

You felt your cheek heat up as you looked into his eyes, and simply gave a small nod. You walked by his side, listening as he talked to you about the gardens and all the flowers that are currently blooming. You took occasional glances at the man beside you, carefully as you did not want to be caught. He was wearing a golden robe made of silk, which flowed with each step he took. His dark and long hair was carefully slicked back and braided, leaving only two strands of hair by each side of his face, a hairstyle he always wore yet you never got tired of seeing it. You loved how it highlighted his features, how his eyes seemed to call even more for your attention. His crown which was so delicate, yet so majestic, and deeply enhancing how gracious he looked. His looks really didn’t compare, and they never got out of your head.

‘’(y/n)?’’

You turned your head to your right after hearing your name.

‘’You seemed deeply lost in your thoughts’’ Elrond said with a small chuckle.

‘’Oh, I’m sorry I did not realize’’

Your cheeks quickly colored red with embarrassment as you hoped he didn’t notice you were looking at him.

‘’It’s alright, I simply was asking which of the flowers you were most excited to see bloom. I know you have spent quite some time in the gardens at Lothlórien and I hope we can make Rivendell’s as beautiful’’

‘’Well, I always loved hyacinths. They are simple yet their color is always so vibrant that it warms your heart in some way’’ you smiled.

‘’Luckily for us that we were able to get some and hopefully ours will grow beautifully, even if I doubt they will be just as Lothlórien’s ones’’

‘’Lothlórien is hard to compare, that’s true. But I believe we can make equally as appealing and charming as the ones from my homeland’’

Elrond nodded and smiled.

‘’Your enthusiasm is what will make them bloom as lovely’’ he said.

You thanked him with a shy voice and stopped walking, almost bumping into the elf as you didn’t notice he himself stopped. As you were about to question the sudden halt, you noticed that you had reached the door to your chambers. You didn’t even realize that you weren’t outside anymore.

‘’You should change, we are having a feist tonight to celebrate the arrival of spring’’

‘’Eru.. It absolutely slipped out of my mind I am so sorry’’ you quickly said, feeling bad as you should’ve gotten ready for it earlier.

‘’There’s no need for apologies, heryn nín. The feist doesn’t start until another hour, you have all the time you need’’

Your eyes grew big, you couldn’t believe your ears. Surely you didn’t hear him properly, he possibly could not have called you like that.

‘’Yes alright, I will ready myself then’’ you said, trying to brush what just happened out of your head.

Elrond smiled and bowed his head in a small nod.

‘’I shall see you then’’

And with that he walked away, most likely to get ready himself. You quickly entered your chamber and closed the wooden door behind you, resting your back on it for a few seconds.

‘’Heryn nín’’ you whispered to yourself, confusion invading your mind.

You yet again put those thoughts aside and walked towards the carved wooden wardrobe and opened it, looking through the dresses that were hanging. You wanted something fancier than a regular dress, but you didn’t have that many. Since it was a feist for spring, you also wanted something of light colors, and as you kept looking at your dresses, your eyes set on one. Since you moved to Rivendell, you had dresses made that were more in the established style, but you still had a few dresses from your home. Your hands carefully grabbed the light purple fabric and you smiled. This was one of your favorites, which is why you brought it with you to Rivendell. It was made of lace, which gave it a more ethereal and mystical look, and it was a classic wardrobe in Lothlórien. You slipped your current dress off your shoulders and carefully dressed in the one you would wear to the feist. After brushing and braiding your hair again, you were ready to join everyone.

As you went down the stairs to and walked outside where the feist was taking place, you could hear many people talking and soft music. As you stepped amongst everyone else, you noticed three elves playing the harp and two playing the flute, each equally separated from each other, as well as a flutist between each harpist. This made you smile, you always loved when things were well separated like such. As your feet led you to grab a drink, your eyes looked around, searching through every elf to find the one you wanted to see, but he was no where to be seen. Or so you thought, because as you grabbed your glass of wine you heard his voice.

‘’Well, I was not expecting to see you in such dress tonight’’

You smiled a bit shyly, hoping he wasn’t unhappy about your fashion choice.

‘’I felt this was the most appropriate way I could dress for such an occasion. Celebrating the arrival of spring is a festive day, and I felt that dressing in too heavy colors and fabrics would go against the meaning of the celebration’’

Elrond smiled and brought his glass to his lips, taking a sip of his wine.

‘’I agree, you made a good decision in wearing this dress, it’s very flattering’’

You thanked him and gently bowed your head to him, which he responded with an even wider smile.

‘’May I bring you elsewhere? There is something I would like to show you’’

‘’Show me?’’ you asked, a bit confused.

‘’Yes, I promise it is worth the sight’’

You were confused why he suddenly wanted to show you something, let alone be uniquely with you. Not that you never been in his company alone, but this was the first time he requested such thing.

‘’Well then, lead the way my lord’’

Elrond chuckled and started walking. While you two directed yourselves to wherever he wanted to bring you, Elrond couldn’t help but look at you, and how beautiful the dressed looked on you. By the same means, you were also looking at him, loving the color of his robe. He was wearing a light orange one, which is a color you rarely ever saw him wear and you definitely would tell him that it suited him, if you weren’t so shy around him.

You noticed that he was bringing you to the gardens, but through a hidden path. You were walking under trees which were blooming with their flowers, a few petals dancing in the wind above your heads.

‘’I never knew this path was here’’ you said as you looked around in awe at the sight.

‘’Very few people know of it, and I want it to stay that way, so that it’s more private’’

You nodded and he smiled. When you entered the garden, you saw immediately why he brought you here.

‘’I can’t believe it..’’ you said as you made your way to the hyacinths which were now in full bloom, earlier than their usual time.

You put your glass of wine down on a nearby rounded stone table and kneeled in front of the flowers, gently touching the delicate petals.

‘’Beautiful isn’t it?’’

‘’Magnificent’’ you answered, still not believing what your eyes were showing you.

Elrond watched you as you admired the flowers, and he smiled. Long has he been thinking of talking to you about his feelings, but he barely ever talked to you long enough to justify doing so, and he didn’t want to come forward and make things uncomfortable. But it was becoming harder for him, and he noticed himself trying to find any reasons to approach you. Today for instance when he saw you for the twelfth time of the day as he walked by, he stepped forward and reminded you of the feist. Mostly because he wanted to be sure that you would attend as he wanted to spend more time with you. And now, using the hyacinth as an excuse to steal you away from the others so that he could be alone with you.

Elrond put his glass besides yours and kneeled by your side. You turned your head as you saw his silhouette move and smiled as his knee rested on the ground. He smiled back and kept looking at you. Your eyes were shining so brightly in the moonlight, none of the stars in the sky could compare to those little constellations in your eyes, and Elrond fell even more in love with you. It’s in this moment that he knew he had to open his heart to you, and hope that you too would open your heart to him.

‘’(y/n)’’

‘’Yes, my lord?’’

You knew you could call him by his name, as he told you earlier today and a few other times before, but it felt wrong to do so.

‘’I have to speak with you about something, and I’m sorry if my words are unforeseen, but they must be told’’

You felt a ball form in your stomach and your throat tightened. Eru only knows what he was about to say, and you were nervous, terrified even.

‘’Y-Yes?’’ you stuttered, trying to stay calm.

Elrond took your hands in his and stood up, bringing you upwards with him so that he could look into those starry eyes of yours.

‘’I must confess that ever since you came here, I look forward to the next day, even more than before. I wake up in the morning thinking of one thing and one thing only, and that thought never leaves my mind’’ his hold on your hand tightened gently. ‘’You make my heart beat, meleth nín, you warm me and make me complete’’

You couldn’t believe your ears. Never in a thousand years would you have thought that Elrond, lord of Rivendell would have feelings for you.

‘’My lord..’’ you said, still surprised at his sudden confession. ‘’I can’t believe this.. Truly I can’t’’

You looked at your hands in his and then back at him.

‘’I never thought you would feel such emotions towards me, after all I’m just the daughter of a guard, I’m not of royal blood like you-’’

‘’None of these matters to me’’ Elrond quickly said, interrupting you. ‘’What I said, I meant it, I meant all of it’’

You looked at him again, his eyes were full of hope and it made a small smile draw on your reddish lips.

‘’My lord.. I feel the same way’’

Elrond smiled and brought your hands to his lips before giving a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

‘’Well then meleth, from now on please, simply call me Elrond’’

‘’I will, Elrond’’

[pablogavisgirl]

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

read part eight ➸ here

Càdiz, España

"Pablo." You whispered. "¿Qué estás haciendo aquí? No puedes estar aquí, tienes que irte". You panicked. (What are you doing here? You can't be here you need to go.)

"Amor? ¿Quién está en la puerta? ¿Son Bella y Tania?" Leo shouted from the couch catching Gavi's attention, the smoke practically coming out of his ears. (Who's at the door? Is it Bella and Tania?)

"No bebe, es el vecino que estaba pidiendo... azúcar". You shouted back awkwardly laughing looking back at Gavi. "Por favor, Pablo, tienes que irte". (No bebe its the neighbor who was asking for...sugar. Please Pablo you have to go.)

"No me iré hasta que me des respuestas". Gavi demanded. (No i'm not leaving till you give me answers.)

"Pablito, por favor, si me amas como dices que lo haces, te irías, por favor, como mi mejor amigo, por favor, haz esto una vez por mí". You begged, giving him a pout knowing he couldn't refuse you. (Pablito, please if you love me like you say you do you would leave please as my bestfriend please just do this once thing for me.)

"No me hables de amor, el amor es la razón por la que estoy aquí, he estado tan preocupado, todo lo que hiciste fue enviarme un mensaje sin siquiera decirme a dónde ibas, ¿sabes lo preocupado que he estado?" His voice began to rise the anger was radiating off of him. He waited five months to know something about you, and now that he did you had a boyfriend and refused to speak to him. (Don't talk to me about love, love is why I'm here I've been so worried all you did was send me a message not even telling me where you were going do you know how worried I've been?)

"¿De verdad quieres un poco de azúcar hu- Pablo Gavi?!" Leo stopped mid sentence seeing Barcelona's midfielder standing infront of his girlfriends doorstep. "¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?" He asked still amazed at such a big fútbol star in front of him. (You really want some sugar hu- Pablo Gavi? What are you doing here?)

"Tratando que tu novia me diga la verdad". He starred directly at you, not paying attention to Leo's presence. (Trying to get your girlfriend to tell me the truth.)

"Que?" Leo laughed.

"Él no lo sabe, ¿eh?" Gavi laughed. "¿No sabe que hace solo un par de meses confesaste tu amor por mí?" He scoffed. (He doesn't know huh? He doesn't know that only a couple months ago you confessed your love for me?)

"Pablo para." You warned. (Pablo stopped.)

"Espera, ¿es el tipo del que me hablaste? ¿Es por eso que te fuiste de Barcelona?" Leo asked, in disbelief. (Wait he's the guy you told me about? He's why you left Barcelona?)

"Pablo, por favor, vete". You pleaded staring into his eyes. (Pablo, please just leave.)

"No me voy Y/N. Pasé meses esperando a que volvieras a Barcelona, así que puedo admitir que fui un idiota y tratar de recuperarte, estaba dispuesto a luchar por nosotros". He stepped foward. (I'm not leaving Y/n. I spent months waiting for you to come back to Barcelona so I can admit I was an idiot and try to win you back, I was willing to fight for us.)

Your heart broke, watching him break admitting to you he had been waiting for you for months. That he wanted to fight for your love, he flew ten hours just to admit all of this to you.

"Y/n estoy aquí. No Pedri, estoy aquí, volé a Sevilla pensando que estabas de vuelta en casa, volé aquí justo después de descubrir dónde has estado ¿Y dónde está Pedri? En ninguna parte". He rambled, before you knew it you had made it from your doorstep to the inside of your apartment.

Leo silently watching from the living room as you and Gavi talked at the dining table.

"¿Por qué viniste aquí?" You broke the silence. (Why did you come here?)

"Solo quería saber si estabas bien". He mumbled looking up at you. (I just wanted to know if you were ok.)

"Como puedes ver, estoy bien, así que puedes irte." You avoided eye contact, looking at anything but him, because if you did he would see right through you and know you weren't fine. (As you can see I'm doing good, so you can leave now.)

He scoffed, "¿Por qué me estás alejando?" (Why are you pushing me away?)

"Porque me rompiste el corazón, Pablito." Your voice rised a little, on how agitated you were at his question. (Because you broke my heart thats why.)

"No actúes como una santa Y/n. Tú también rompiste el mío cuando me dijiste que besaste a Pedri mientras decías estar enamorado de mí". He spat, continuing to talk, "Y mira Y/n, ¿dónde está Pedri? En ninguna parte, porque él no vino a buscarte, yo lo hice. Sabes lo que ha estado haciendo desde la noche que te fuiste, se ha estado follando a otras chicas. Se estaba follando a una chica cuando le enviaste ese mensaje, no se preocupa por ti". (Don't act like a saint Y/n. You broke mine too when you told me you kissed Pedri while claiming to be in love with me. And look Y/n where is Pedri? Nowhere, because he didn't come looking for you, I did. You know what he's been doing since the night you left he's been fucking other girls. He was fucking a girl when you sent him that message he doesn't care about you.)

"Estás mintiendo". You choked out tears beginning to sting your eyes. That same night he was telling you that he wanted to be with you, that it didn't matter what Gavi thought that he would fight for you to love him. (You're lying.)

There was no way he had gone out and fucked a girl that same night, was all that he said a lie? Was everything he told you that one night at the beach a lie? Did you mean nothing to him?

"¡Estamos aquí, había mucho tráfico!" Tania shouted both her and Isaella finally arriving with the food being gone for an hour. (We're here! Traffic was bad!)

They both were met with shock, Leo was at the couch clenching his fists tight to the point his knuckles were turning white. Gavi and Y/n sitting at the table, staring back at them.

Isabella stared at Gavi with a pure hatred that words could not describe but she was about to bring hell on earth for him showing his face after what he did.

whilst Tania stared at Gavi and admiration, an FC Barcelona player was in her shared apartment, granted she didn't know that he was the guy or one of the guys Y/n ran away from.

"Deja vu". Isabella blurted out, remembering the last time this had happened she was also late to Y/n's apartment in Barcelona because of a food situation.

Tania turned to look at her confused, she turned to look at ger brother who was fuming, staring at Gavi deadly.

They stayed silent for a moment, "Vuelve a Barcelona". (Come back to Barcelona.)

"No puedo". You whispered. (I can't.)

"¿Por qué no?" He asked. (Why not?)

"Tengo una vida aquí, tengo a mis amigos aquí, tengo escuela aquí, no puedo dejarlo todo. Mi novio está aquí". You rambled a bunch of excuses not caring if it didn't make sense. (I have a life here, I have my friends here, I have school here I can't just leave everything. My boyfriend is here.)

"Tienes una vida en Barcelona, tienes a Isabella, a mí y a Aurora de vuelta a casa, puedes transferirte de vuelta a la universidad". He begged you, he wanted you back at home with him, he missed you. He wanted to show you he was worthy of your love. (You have a life in Barcelona, you have Isabella, Aurora, and me. You could transfer back to the university.)

"Creo que deberías irte." Leo stood up from the couch having enough of Gavi. (I think you should go.)

"No iré a ninguna parte hasta que ella y yo hablemos". Gavi stood up from the chair. (I'm not going anywhere till me and her talk.)

"Bueno, soy su novio y esta conversación ha terminado, no voy a dejar que la manipules para que vuelva a Barcelona". He inched closer to the table where both you and Gavi where. (Well I'm her boyfriend and this conversation is over, I'm not going to let you manipulate her into going back to Barcelona.)

He was done, he wasn't going to let Gavi manipulate you and bring you back to Barcelona, you had your life here, he was here.

"No eres su novio, eres una distracción para ella, porque ella no te quiere". Pablo laughed dryly. (You aren't her boyfriend you're a distraction for her, because she doesn't love you.)

"Pablo." You whispered. "Para." You garbbed his wrist preventing him from moving closer to Leo.

"¿Ves cómo no lo negó?" He continued to laugh. (See how she didn't deny it?)

"¡Fuera de aquí, joder!" Leo shouted in frustration, Gavi was right, you didn't deny it. You weren't even talking or trying to defend what he was saying. You were just simply allowing it. (Get the fuck out of here!)

"No me iré hasta que hable con ella y eso es final!" Gavi shouted in frustration. All he wanted to do was talk to you and reason with you to return, but Leo was making it impossible. (I'm not leaving till I talk to her and thats final.)

He had enough, Leo snatched your wrist away from Gavi's and grabbed him by the collar dragging him out.

"Leo para!" You begged, watching as Gavi tried fighting back trying to punch him in the gut to get him to let go. (Leo stop!)

"¡Leo déjalo ir!" Tania shouted at her brother, trying to pull his grip off from Gavi. (Leo let him go!)

Isabella rushing trying to pull Leo off, Leo's anger coursing through his body, the adrenaline he had not allowing the girls to get him off.

"¡Leo, para!" You shouted at him again, running trying to pull Gavi away from him, this angering him only more on the way you were trying to help Gavi out.

"¡Estás siendo infantil, déjalo ir, joder!" You cried out, prying his fingers off of Gavi's collar, shoving him, Tania and Isabella pulling at him. (You're acting childish let him fucking go!)

Gavi's collar beginning to wrap around his neck from the force Leo had been yanking on it. "¡Para! ¡Leo, déjalo ir, le estás haciendo daño!" You watched as Leo didn't even listen to you more aggressively began yanking on his collar still trying to drag him out the door.

You couldn't stand watching him hurt Gavi you shoved Leo off with everything you had combined with Isbaella and Tania's strength ya'll were finally able to get him to let go.

You scurried alongside Gavi trying to help him catch his breath again, Tania was shouting at Leo but you zoned it out focusing on Gavi.

"¿Qué coño te pasa, Leo? ¡Podrías haberle hecho mucho daño!" You yelled at Leo, crouching by Gavi, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stabilize him. (What the fuck is wrong with you Leo?! You could have seriously hurt him?)

"Me asustas". You finished rubbing Gavi's back both you and Isabella helping him stand up. "Sal de mi puto apartamento, me da asco a mirarte ahora mismo". (You scare me. Get the fuck out of my apartment I'm disgusted to even look at you right now.)

"¡Por qué soy tu novio si alguien debería irse es el!" He argued. (Why I'm your boyfriend if anyone he should leave!)

You laugh, "¿Hablas en serio? ¡Podrías haberlo matado si no te hubiéramos quitado de él! ¡Estás loco! ¡Vete!" (Are you serious? You could have killed him if we didn't get you off of him! You're crazy! Leave!)

"Que te jodes". He laughed. "¡Te va a romper el corazón otra vez! ¡No seas jodidamente estúpida y deja que te manipule!" (He's going to break your heart again! Don't be fucking stupid and let him manipulate you!")

"Leo cálmate y vete". Tania opened the door signaling for him to leave. (Leo calm down and leave.)

"¿Hablas en serio? ¿Estás de su lado?" He laughed in disbelief . (Are you serious? You're on her side?)

"Vete." Tania warned, "O esta vez seré yo arrastrándolo fuera de la puerta". (Leave, Or this time it will be me dragging you out of the door.)

"Bien, me iré, pero no vuelvas llorando conmigo como lo hiciste antes cuando te rompe el corazón de nuevo." He walked out angrily slamming the door on his way out. (Fine I'll leave, but don't come fucking back crying to me like you did before when he breaks your heart again.)

You sighed in relif that he was finally gone, you've never seen him get violent, or that angry in the five months of knowing him. And he was truly terrifying.

What would have happened if you didn't managed to get him off Gavi? The thought of loosing him made you scared to the point of nearly tearing up.

"Siento mucho lo de él, te dejó una marca en el cuello". You sighed gently tracing it with your finger. (I'm so sorry about him, he left a mark on your neck.)

"No sé qué se le metió, nunca ha sido tan violento". Tania returned from the kitchen with an icepack offering it to Gavi. ( i don't know what got into him, he's never been this violent.)

Gavi placing it on his neck, trying to reduce the redness from his neck, you slightly pushing stray strands of hair out of his face, leaning your head on his shoulder continuing to whisper sorry's.

"Deberíamos irnos, todavía tienen que hablar". Isabella spoke up, standing from the couch. Tania as well nodding. (We should leave they still need to talk.)

"Vamos estar en la habitación si nos necesitas". Tania smiled, making her way towards the room. (Well be in the bedroom if you need us.)

"Lo siento mucho, Pablo, no sé qué se le metió". You whispered once more, his hand lacing with yours rubbing his thumb on your palm. (I'm really sorry Pablo, I don't know what got into him.)

"Está bien mi vida, estoy bien gracias a ti y a tus amigos". He whispered. (It's ok, i'm fine thanks to you and your friends."

"Tenía tanto miedo de que te fuera a matar, el fuego en sus ojos que vi era realmente aterrador". You hugged him, he was here, after months of not speaking and not seeing eachother he was here for you. You never realized how much you actually needed him till you saw him at your front door. Now you didn't want to let go, afraid too loose him once more. (I was so scared he was going to actually kill you, the fire in his eye's that I saw was truly terrifying.)

But what he said about Pedri was still running around in your head. You felt the betrayal all over again. How do you go from telling someone you want to be with them, and were willing to risk everything for them, to end up fucking a girl the same night you said that?

"¿De verdad se follo a una chica?" You closed your eyes, afraid of his answer. (Did he really fuck some girl?)

"Lo siento, Y/n." He whispered in a low voice, hearing you sob. (I'm sorry Y/n)

"Dijo que quería una vida conmigo, que lucharía por mi amor, que estaba dispuesto a arriesgarlo todo por mí". You sobbed at his false promises. (He said he wanted a life with me, that he would fight for my love, that he was willing to risk everything for me.)

"¿Cómo pudo follarse a una chica así, como si sus palabras no significan nada para él?" You leaned into Pablo, as he held you, just listening, afterall thats all he could do. (How could he just fuck a girl like that, like his words meant nothing to him?)

"No vale la pena". Gavi whispered, "Sé que he cometido mis errores, pero nunca haría falsas promesas, nunca te rompería el corazón de nuevo y esa es una promesa mi vida". (He isn't worth it. I know i've done my mistakes, but I would never make false promises I would never break your heart again and thats a promise.)

He was right, he never once broke a promise when they were little kids. She didn't know what caused her to, maybe it was her emotions all over the place, but she couldn't help it. It felt like it was long overdue.

She starred up at him, with the most innocent eyes ever he thought, maybe it was out of impulsive. But it felt right in the moment, they would deal with the consequences later.

They both leaned in, it wasn't like when Pedri had kissed her both times that he initiated it yes the kiss was a sweet but this one had a different feeling it felt heavenly.

It was a soft and pure kiss, shared by two people in love, the rush of emotions they were feeling was indescribable. It was everything she dreamed about for the past year, the way his hand came up to her cheek, pushig her closer by her waist, because hell he couldn't have believe it himself, after months of dreaming it he was finally here, finally kissing her.

He never wanted this feeling to stop, he didn't want it to end, because once it did they would have to snap back into reality, but that was a tomorrow problem.

Right now it was just an intimate moment between two people who had been in love with eachother and were finally getting the chance to show it to eachother.

She was the one to pull away first, resting her forhead on his, closing her eyes and thinking back to the moment. "Te amo." Gavi spoke. (I love you.)

Even though it wasn't the most ideal situation on how it led them to this moment, but to him it couldn't have been more perfect.

She pursed her lips, "Yo también te amo."

And it was the truth, she did love him, she had loved him for years without realizing it, and that kiss they just shared meant everything to her.

But he always managed to come back into her mind no matter what. Pedri always found a way back, even though she was mad or sad one of the other at his actions she was still attracted him, she still wanted him.

It was pathetic really, how she just learned he fucked some other girl the same night she left and still wanted him, still craved for his touch.

But Gavi, words couldn't describe how she felt towards him in this moment, she just wanted to stay in this little bubble with him forever.

She just wanted to kiss him again, and worry about the consequences tomorrow because in that moment Gavi was all she wanted.

Honestly guys I feel like if I hadn't worked a double shift and wasn't bored enough to write I probably would not have updated for like a month😭 But anyways espero que les haya gustado 🌷🩷

[btsgotjams27]

this is us ~ jjk | 6

after a hard conversation with your mother, you learn some new things about yourself.

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, bff's younger brother ✨ playlist ✨ a/n: if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) you can read them here on AO3 & Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ drabble ~ girl's night out

chapter six ~ it's not all rainbows and butterflies | wc: 5.5k warnings: oc has a hard conversation with her mother, oc'smom is the worst, oc keeps secrets from jungkook b/c she's scared, a joke about oc being a p*do (they're being mean girls to her), jin overhears a convo and is about to throw punches, kissing, touching, groping (like i said!! nothing new here, they're in love and it's gross), jungkook is such a tease and cocky af, allusions to sex

~ Two months together ~

Getting to this point in your relationship with Jungkook wasn't an easy task - in particular, with your mother. She was beyond furious when you told her. The thought of you choosing to be with someone close to a decade younger than you completely disgusted her. She loved Jungkook, adored him, and even thought of him like her son, but she couldn't support your relationship with him.

"Please explain how this happened," she asked with anger rising in her tone while pacing back and forth.

"It started after the family reunion. We hung out a lot, and things just happened." You tried explaining without giving too much detail - especially when the pair of you were going to maul each other at your house during dinner with her and Yuna.

"Things just happened?" She scoffed. "What does Yuna think about all this?"

You cleared your throat before answering, "...she didn't like it at first. We didn't talk for a little bit while planning her wedding, but she's fine with it now." Honestly, you needed to sit down and talk to your best friend, like sit down and hash this all out, but she just got married, so you keep telling yourself - you hated having hard conversations.

"You were dating him before Yuna's wedding?" Your mother asked sternly. There was anger and resentment in her eyes, and the tone of her voice amped up even more. "Who would do that to their best friend?"

There it was, the one thing you had to struggle with only a few months ago. What she said triggered you. You fought through all the voices in your head telling you that you were the worst best friend in the world already. You didn't need to go through all that again. And who was she to judge you in the first place? You had a running list of the things you didn't approve of from her. Though she never cared much for you, why would it even matter?

"No! We weren't dating or anything. We were just hanging out more than usual..." you lingered with your sentence, not wanting to explain more than you needed to. She didn't need to know that you made the first move or how he kissed you in your childhood bedroom while she and Yuna were only a few feet away in the other room.

"I can't believe I have to call you my daughter," she muttered under her breath.

"Mom..." The muscle sitting inside your chest cavity sank to your stomach. Did she really have to say that? Did she really hate you that much? What have you ever done to her to deserve that? You've done everything that she's ever asked, but somehow you still failed to meet her expectations. She was the only living relative you had left, and she continued to treat you like nothing, like an outsider, like someone who didn't deserve her time.

"Your father would be furious if he were here," she huffed as she sat down." I need to sit before I pass out."

"You have to call me your daughter? What's that supposed to mean?"  You frowned before kneeling in front of her. "Mom...I'm sorry I've been never been able to live up to your expectations, but that comment was low, even for you." This conversation sucked big time, but her comment, her words, continue to pierce into the depths of your soul - a grown-ass woman you are, and the one person you needed continued to, without shame, detest your existence. You wondered what you needed to do for her to accept you as you were.

She couldn't even look at you. That's how ashamed she was. Your whole life, it seemed like you couldn't do anything right in her eyes. She would praise her friend's kids for their success but would fail to acknowledge yours. And that hurt...deeply, not having the approval of your own mother.

"I suppose it's time to tell you," she finally spoke, still avoiding your gaze.

You sat back, resting on your feet, trying your best to speculate what she could possibly tell you. "Tell me what?" Would she finally admit fault?

"I only have to call you my daughter because of your father..."

You weren't sure what she meant by that...well, of course, you were their daughter.

"I promised I would keep this a secret for your father's sake, but now that he's not here with us anymore, I see no reason to keep it from you anymore."

You froze. A part of you didn't want her to continue. Could it be worse than the situation at hand or add more fuel to your strained relationship? Whatever it was...it would change your life either way.

"You're not my daughter," she stated openly, sighing as she leaned back on the dining chair. She finally gazed down at you, almost proud of the words that came out of her mouth.

"Now you're just trying to hurt me, and it's working. Good job, mom."

"I'm not lying. What reason would I have to lie to you? Your father had an affair very early on in our marriage, and that woman..." she said with bitterness in her voice, "died after giving birth to you. She listed your father as next of kin...and well, here you are."

Eventually, it hit you. You understood why she hated you so much and never bothered to have a relationship with you. She couldn't tolerate looking at you, raising someone else's child, raising someone who wasn't hers.

"How did it go with your mom?" Jungkook asked, even though he could already tell by the tears forming that it didn't go well.

Already on the verge of tears, you shook your head and mumbled, "Not good." With your shoulders slumped over and head down, you were biting your lip, trying your hardest not to break down in front of Jungkook. There were a lot of things you didn't like, and crying was one of them.

You hated being so vulnerable, so weak...it felt like someone cut open your chest and left you to bleed out.

He walked over and gently enveloped you in his arms, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other around the nape of your neck. His chin nestled into your shoulder, whispering, "It's going to be okay. We'll be fine."

It was hard to accept what he said. Would it ever truly be okay? Your mother was never the 'best friend' type, and you were never looking for that. All you wanted was someone to listen, to support you...to love you. It was hard to reflect on your life and try to find joyful moments with her. There were hardly any, and if there were, your dad was always there.

You wrapped your arms around Jungkook, trying not to soak his shirt with your tears, but failing miserably - mascara running, snot coming out of your nose, all-around ugly crying. You started to sob into his chest softly. He pulled you closer, gently shushing you and caressing your hair, whispering, "I'm here. It's okay, I'm here. I'm never leaving you," making you sob even more.

There was a risk in stepping into a relationship with him, but it was one you were willing to make. Regardless of the stares and side-eyes you received from strangers on the streets and whispers from relatives and family friends, and you'd do anything for him.

Thoughts were racing through your mind, replaying the conversation with your mother. You didn't tell Jungkook about the second half of the conversation. He would eventually come to know, but you didn't have the heart to tell him because you needed time to process it yourself. You didn't want him to pity you, your situation, or your family. And to be honest, you weren't sure if you could even spit it out in coherent words.

After a month of constant arguing and the same conversations, the two of you had enough and agreed to stay out of each other's lives. It hurt to see your mom not support you, but you weren't surprised at all. Ever since your dad passed away, the first protector of your heart wasn't there to guide you and hold your hands through hardships. If he were here, he'd understand your choice and support you in every way that he could.

You weren't sure how you would ever move on from this secret.

~ Seven months together ~

When you saw the text notification on your screen, you didn't know if your mother had intended to send it to you or if it was an accident.

Mom 9:43 AM I heard the good news.

First off, what good news? The news about your script? And secondly, you wondered how she found out in the first place. There's no way Jungkook or Yuna would be talking to her, right? It's possible she heard through the grapevine but regardless, you didn't want to give any attention to her. Now that you found some success, was she proud of you? She didn't deserve any credit because she wasn't the one who supported you - it was your friends, your boyfriend.

But you brushed off her text and didn't respond to her. You weren't sure if you even wanted to. What was the point? You obviously didn't want to hear anything else she had to say or anything about your relationship with Jungkook. You'd respond when you were ready.

Jungkook was working hard to launch his company's new game, Final Approach. He was the lead storyboard designer on the project. He was hesitant when his team leader asked him, but you nudged him ever so gently to take it. Jungkook has the skills and vision for a project like this, but he just needed to be confident in himself to finally take initiative and show off what he could do. His potential's far greater than he could ever dream of.

"How are you feeling about your launch party?" you asked as you were putting away dishes into his cupboards.

"Good...I think," he said with an apprehensive smile and nod. "What about you? Are you excited to come?"

"Yeah...I think," mimicking his answer.

Jungkook raised both eyebrows, "You think?"

"I mean...this will be the first time everyone will see us together." The two of you hadn't attended any big events together as a couple. Not only would it be your first time going 'public' but your first time meeting his colleagues. Wonderful...more stares and whispers to endure.

"Good, because I want to show off my beautiful girlfriend." He smiled as he looked up from his laptop.

You gave him a closed-lipped smile. You could get through this...maybe with a lot of alcohol in your system. That would be your first trip for the night when you arrive - to the bar. "Right...but I won't know anyone."

"Jin will be there. You can hang out with him. I'm sure he won't mind," he said casually.

You could already picture the worst-case scenarios in your head, but you could do this. You've handled way harsher criticism before...but the thing was, this would be extremely personal - because it would be about you...about Jungkook, about your relationship.

You shook the thoughts from your mind. Happy thoughts only. This was an exciting moment for Jungkook. It wasn't about you. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Clearing your throat, you figured you should ask him about the text from your mother. "Hey...this is super random but...have you talked to my mom at all?"

His brows furrowed, lips in pout thinking about his last interaction with her. "I haven't spoken to her since Yuna's wedding. Why?" He looked up from his laptop.

You were tapping on the porcelain mug in your hand. "Oh...um, she just randomly texted me this morning."

Jungkook nodded. "What did she say?"

"She said, 'I heard the good news'. Whatever that means." You figured it wasn't him since he'd tell you right away if he had spoken to her.

"Huh... that's interesting. Maybe she's coming around." He shrugged, typing away at his laptop.

You scoffed at his remark. "I highly doubt that. You know her."

"Maybe I could talk to her." He tried asking casually because he knew your mom was still a sore subject of conversation.

You shook your head furiously. "No...no...I don't want you anywhere near her. I can hear her already, 'You're too good for her Jungkookie, you can do better...' blah blah blah..."

Jungkook stood up, pushing his stool, to walk over to you. He held out his hand, waiting for yours, pulling you into him. He rubbed your arms and leaned in for a kiss.

"I know I know...I already know what you're going to say."

"What am I going to say?"

"To stop with this self-deprecating nonsense."

"And..." His eyes crinkled with a sly smile, showing off that adorable dimple you just want to crawl and live in.

"...and that I'm smart and beautiful, and wonderful, and everything you could ever want in a partner," you added in a dragging tone.

He laughed because that's exactly what he would say. You'd been together long enough to know his quirks and mannerisms and his thought process. You sighed and pinched your nose, trying to shake all the negativity away. "Enough about my mom. I'll worry about her later. This week is about you, and you only," you said as you reached up to kiss him. "I love you. You know that?"

He nodded. "Mmhm, I know. I'm simply irresistible."

As the event was approaching, your anxiety began to flare up since this was the first time you would be attending a work event as Jungkook's girlfriend. You only knew Jin, as you briefly met him at the Open Mic Night and throughout Yuna and Namjoon's wedding festivities. There was some comfort in knowing at least one person, but your nerves were getting the best of you.

Jungkook said the event would be a black-tie affair since they were celebrating the launch of their new game. There would also be potential investors for the next game the company needed funds for.

The company went all out for this launch. They even provided him with a limo to pick the two of you up. You heard your door code unlocking, just in time, forty-five-ish minutes before the event began. 

Walking into your bedroom was a dashing, handsome man. Jungkook was sporting a fresh haircut, parted off to the side, showing off his perfect face, decorated with his eyebrow and lip piercing. He donned a dark gray two-piece suit, black dress shirt, and tie, even his waist looked tiny due to the cinched belt. Was there anything this man didn't look good in?

You greeted him with a warm smile as you found his gaze in the mirror. "I just need to put on my shoes. Then I'll be good to go." The dress that was purchased for this event felt risqué in your opinion, even though Hyunie and Yuna told you otherwise. You rarely dressed up like this.

Jungkook came from behind, wrapping his arms around you. "Hello gorgeous," he whispered pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

You leaned away from him, trying to escape from his hold. "Kook--stop. You're gonna mess up my outfit." He groaned before letting you go.

You stood up from your vanity table and took a seat at the edge of your bed, grabbing your strappy heels. Jungkook took a seat next to you, gesturing for you to give him your feet so he could help you. You happily obliged. Putting on heels shouldn't be sensual, but when it was Jungkook strapping them on, it was a different story. Instead of slipping them on right away, he leaned down to kiss your toes.

You giggled and squirmed under his touch. "Didn't know you had a foot fetish."

"I don't...I have a you fetish."

You chuckled, telling him to go on and hurry up or he'll be late for his own party.

He slipped on the right side, carefully buckling the strap, then he moved onto the next, but not before he gently grazed his fingers along the underside of your legs, heading towards your clothed heat. It took everything in you to not make a peep or feel any kind of excitement under his touch. He was just putting on your shoes for fucks sake. You stopped him from going any further.

"You'll have all the time in the world for a me fetish later boyfriend. Now come on, or we'll be late."

He groaned. He knew he should have come to pick you up earlier than scheduled. He finished helping you with your shoes and held your hand, helping you stand up. You did a quick spin for him, and he whistled, liking what he saw. He pulled you in for a kiss, and whispered against your lips, "Can't wait to rip that dress off of you later."

Netmarble went all out for this launch, they spared no expense. There were areas for video game simulators, tables upon tables of bags full of freebies, and a stocked bar. You name it, they had it.

A young man in a white button-up and black slacks approached you and Jungkook as you arrived, "Jungkook-ssi! You're here. Let me take you guys to your table."

Jungkook lightly gripped the young man's arm, grabbing his attention. "Ha-Joon, this is my girlfriend."

"Hello!" he greeted you with a warm smile. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Jungkook-ssi always talks about you."

"He does?" you asked with a surprised tone. "I hope they're good things." 

Ha-Joon laughed. "Of course. He's very much in love with you. Our whole team can see that." He said before turning back around, leading the pair of you throughout the crowd.

As you looked around, you could see a few eyes and whispers between you and Jungkook. One hand in Jungkook's, and with the other, you tugged on his blazer and whispered, "How much do you talk about me?" You didn't think anyone would know who you were, but maybe you were wrong.

Jungkook responded with a grin and raised an eyebrow. Goodness, this man was completely and irrevocably in love with you, huh? You chuckled. "What am I gonna do with you?"

He leaned in, "I have a few ideas." You gently pinched him. "Harder," he teased. And you did until it became uncomfortable. "Yah--yah--okay, okay. Save some of that for later."

When Ha-Joon showed you to your table, you weren't expecting a video game launch party to be so fancy, but here you were. Your name was written in beautiful calligraphy on a place card. It almost felt like you were at a wedding. As you sat down, Ha-Joon pulled Jungkook aside. You guessed he was telling him about tonight's schedule. 

After a few minutes, Jungkook came and took a seat next to you. "So, apparently they invited some popular game influencers to the party, so I gotta go make good with them. Will you be okay if I leave you for a little bit?"

"Yeah...Yeah of course. You go do your thing." You smiled warmly as he pressed a kiss into your temple. You couldn't help but feel proud of your boyfriend as you watched him walk off to mingle amongst the crowd. He's so good at this, you thought to yourself. You wished you had an ounce of his confidence.

You took a look around the room, feeling a little out of place. You straightened your dress, making sure nothing was out of place, then you heard a familiar voice from behind.

"Fancy seeing you here," said the tall broad-shouldered man.

"Hey!" you said with a sigh of relief, thankful to see a familiar face, so you wouldn't look like an outcast in a sea of gamers and businessmen. "Are you sitting with us too?"

"My table's over there but I uh...switched the place cards." He leaned in, covering his mouth, "I hate the people I work with...but shh--don't tell 'em that." Jin joked as he sat down next to you.

You laughed. "My lips are sealed," pretending to zip your mouth.

The both of you let your eyes roam around the noisy room full of people before you turned to Jin. "Hey...thank you for letting Jungkook use your house for our date. We really appreciate it."

Jin laughed. "You guys are more than welcome to use it whenever you need to, as long as you followed the rules I left."

"Us? Breaking your house rules? Never," you teased him. There may have been some touching and a bit of kissing, but nothing more than that.

"Uh huh...sure." Jin nodded, tinkering with his place card.

You always wondered why you didn't hang out with Jin more, especially when Yuna was dating Namjoon and it was only now that your paths were crossing more and more. Jin seemed genuine and down-to-earth, and definitely, the type of guy to tell you like it is, which you appreciated.

"So...how are you and Jungkookie?" he asked, trying to fill in the silence.

"We're...we're doing good." And you weren't lying. Of course, there were a few bumps along the way but it wasn't anything the two of you couldn't handle.

"Good," he said with a smile. "I think this is the happiest he's ever been."

"You think so?"

"Yeah...the guy comes in happy to work. Believe me, no one should come in that happy to work...You're good for him."

You scrunched your nose. "Nah--" you joked of course.

"I'm serious, you are. You both deserve to be happy."

"Thanks, Jin, that means a lot to me." And it did, there were countless times when you questioned everything about your relationship with Jungkook. But hearing Jin's approval helped boost your confidence in making the right choice.

Twenty minutes had gone by and Jungkook was still nowhere to be seen. Jin was trying to lighten the mood with a few jokes he had up his sleeve but he could still see how nervous you were at the party, being out of your element. "Stay here. I'll go get us some drinks. I have a feeling Jungkook will be mingling for a while."

You smiled. "Sure, I'd love one. Thanks, Jin." You watched him walk off to the bar, waving down the bartender. Immediately you reached for your phone to keep yourself busy.

He began tapping the bar counter and looking around as he waited for the drinks. There were two interns behind him talking loudly.

"Can you believe that's Jungkook's girlfriend? She has to be at least thirty," said the young blonde girl. Both girls snickered and took a sip of their champagne glasses.

"I'm going to fucking cry when I turn thirty and who does she think she is wearing that dress? I bet she's just trying to look like she belongs with him. He could do so much better than her," said the brunette.

Jin overheard their conversation and he debated if he should turn around and say something. He tugged at his collared shirt and tie, itching to just let them have a piece of his mind. But he bit his tongue and composed himself for now.

"Look at her. She's pathetic. She has the audacity to date, someone, basically ten years younger than her," the blonde scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Sounds kind of desperate to me," the brunette inserted. "Oh my god. What if she's going through a midlife crisis or something?"

"I mean that would make sense about why she's dating someone that young," the blonde stated, continuing to sip her drink.

The brunette nodded, "She's practically a pedo. Someone call the cops."

The two of them laughed at their stupid joke and that's when Jin had enough. He turned around and walked towards them, giving them his best smile.

"Hi ladies," he said with a dashing smile, looking dapper in his black three-piece suit.

The brunette became shy when she saw him approaching and tucked her hair behind her ear. In her sweetest voice, "Oh–Seokjin-ssi, you look so handsome today." She let out a tiny giggle. Shameless really, the way she was acting in front of Jin.

"That's where you're wrong. I always look handsome, thank you," he curtly replied. "You know what is absolutely foul tonight?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

The two of them shook their heads and didn't respond, acting dumb.

He leaned in close to them, almost pretending to let them in on a secret. "Your mouths." He stood with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. "I didn't realize you were an expert on Jungkook's love life and had a say on who he should and shouldn't date."

The blonde and brunette were taken aback by Jin's blunt comment but he couldn't let them get away with acting superior.

You saw Jin looking your way and you flashed him a smile, wondering what he was doing with those two girls - probably flirting.

"You know what she has and you don't?" He asked rhetorically, and the two were still dazed and shook their heads. "She has more class than the two of you ever will. And she's an amazing person and doesn't say stupid shit behind people's backs. You're lucky we're not in the office. If I ever hear you saying anything about Jungkook or his girlfriend, you'll never work in this industry again. You hear me?" He threatened with raised eyebrows.

They nodded, mumbling sorry and bowing before scurrying away. Jin walked back to the bar and grabbed the drinks that were ready. He trekked back to where he left you and placed a drink in your hand.

"You good?" you asked curiously. "You weren't hitting on those girls, were you?"

He waved you off, "Pfft–more like they were hitting on me." He took a sip of his drink.

You chuckled and nodded at the handsome man. You were thankful that you had Jin to hang out with tonight.

During the night, when he wasn't with you, Jungkook was surrounded by a sea of people wanting his attention. They had heard so many wonderful things about him, so you loved seeing others fawn over him, getting all the attention he deserved. You found yourself grinning whenever there was mention of Jungkook. He was easily loved by everyone. It's kind of hard to hate the guy, when he's always willing to help out those around him - cleaning and picking up after others, making small jokes with the ahjumma at his favorite tteokbokki stand, playing with the kids that mistake him as their appa. See? Very hard to dislike him. 

He was finally able to step away since dinner was going to be served soon. He found his seat next to you and pressed a kiss on your cheek. "Hi," he said with relief in his voice. He was all mingled out, his cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling and talking.

"Hello, Mr. Popular," you chuckled. You could tell he was embarrassed, being the center of attention.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. "Stop...I hate it."

"Oh, you love it. You love being praised."

He had one arm on the back of your chair and the other leaning on the table, inching towards you. "Only in the bedroom." He smirked. He couldn't wait to leave the party and get out of the stuffy suit he was wearing. But the launch barely began, there were still more smiles and networking to do on his part. He hated it, besides, it was part of the job.

Throughout dinner, there were speeches upon speeches until the lead of Jungkook's department stood up and announced that he was getting an award. Jungkook's eyes widened with surprise, not knowing he'd be given anything tonight. He was given the 'Rising Star' Award and he was asked to make a quick speech while accepting. You could tell he wasn't prepared at all, but if anyone could come up with something on a whim, it was Jungkook.

He nervously scratched the back of his neck while looking out at the audience. He let out an awkward chuckle as he began thinking about where to even begin.

"Ahem...I'm sorry I don't have anything prepared. I wasn't expecting to receive anything tonight, but um, I just want to say thank you to my team leader, who continues to put his trust in me. And uh, thank you to the rest of our team who worked tirelessly to get this game ready for today's launch. I owe you all my life." The crowd gave a light laugh at his words, then his eyes darted around the room until he landed on you. "And lastly, I want to thank my beautiful girlfriend who's here with me tonight." He pointed at you, making everyone turn to take a good look. You smiled and waved shyly. He continued on, "Baby, thank you for always pushing me and supporting me in everything I do. I wouldn't be here without you. I love you." He bowed politely and gave another word of thanks before he took his award, and came back down to sit next to you, giving you another kiss.

The night was finally coming to an end. You didn't realize how wiped you were until the limo pulled up but overall it was an enjoyable night, getting to see Jungkook and his world.

"I'm pretty sure I'll like video game launch parties." You laughed holding up your huge bag of freebies. "I mean look at all this stuff."

Jungkook chuckled, "Is that the only reason why you're here? For the free stuff?"

You scoffed, "Well, obviously. It's free." He pinched your waist, making you yelp. "And--and to see my hot, sexy, boyfriend be the talk of the town."

"Ugh, don't remind me," he said, opening the limo door, and the two of you went in. "It's so embarrassing."

"What? No--I loved seeing everyone go all heart-eyes for you. To be honest, I was a little jealous," you said, setting the large bag down on the floor mat.

"Oh...you? Jealous? Tell me more," he urged, sliding closer to you, pulling you into him, then lifting your legs onto him. He began caressing your thighs, and nuzzled his head into your neck, peppering kisses wherever he could.

"For an industry that's mostly made up of men, way too many women were surrounding themselves around you," you said breathily, trying to keep your cool from all his kisses.

"Mmhm...keep going," he implored, now his hands beginning to freely roam your body. First, your breasts, then your ass.

You closed your eyes. He was barely touching you and you were soaking wet already. "I think I even saw someone lingering a handshake with you a minute too long. But what she doesn't know is that those hands are mine," you proclaimed while taking his hand in yours. "These fingers...are mine." Smiling as you pressed his fingers against your lips, then shamelessly taking his index and middle finger into your mouth, pulling them in and out. And he watched with fascination, your lips surrounding his fingers. He couldn't wait for them to be on his cock instead.

You grinned, pulling his fingers away, then hiked up your dress, bringing his fingers towards your clothed heat, already soaked and ready to go. Jungkook visibly gulped. He loves when you're confident and unashamed. Leaning in, you kissed him fervently. You couldn't wait for the driver to hurry up and get the two of you home. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer than he already was.

"Someone's horny," Jungkook said, breaking the kiss.

"You have no idea," you replied as you made your way to straddle him. Thank god for this limo, there was no way you could do this in a smaller car.

"You gotta keep quiet though. Don't want to be called into the boss' office on Monday morning asking why I was fucking my girlfriend in the company limo."

A giggle left your lips. "Jeon Jungkook, Rising Star, scared of getting caught?"

"I quite like my job, you know..."

"'Kay, then I'll just moan and whimper into your ear."

He grinned. "Perfect."

After a night of wanton sex-capades throughout the apartment, the two of you were spent. Jungkook was laid out on his stomach, mouth agape, with little snores leaving him. You found yourself gazing at him, gently caressing the little scar on his cheek.

See, it's easy when it's just you and Jungkook, but when it's the two of you against the world, it's a different story. If you two were the last two people on earth, you'd probably just fuck each other into oblivion, and probably have tons of babies. But that was the issue, you weren't the only two people on earth, and you probably cared way too much about what other people thought about you. And in the end, what would be the thing that mattered the most? What Jungkook thought about you or what other people thought? It was probably time to stop worrying about other people's perceptions of your relationship with Jungkook and begin to focus on the man who was undoubtedly and hopelessly in love with you.

✨ next ~ drabble: girl's night

[eris-snow]

𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟓: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

Tags:7 reasons why I love you, shoto x fem!reader, angst, fluff

He remembers praying at the time every day that slipped by, that this month would go on forever.

Shoto still hadn’t fully accepted it yet. December was a flurry of precious memories, and he loved each one of them as he continued to decent deeper in love with you.

But even good things need to come to an end. With his wedding next year, he was forced to forgo seeing you for most of the day because of his jam-packed schedule. Instead, he got a face full of Momo, his bride-to-be. She was nice, sure. Elegant and sophisticated in ways beyond you, but…Shoto didn’t fancy her at all.

Soon, your meet-ups turned nightly, all well-passed dusk in the snowy garden grounds.

He’d have to sneak out in order to meet you. To get past the guards patrolling around as he ducked out to meet you.

Shoto might be running from responsibility but, gosh, did it feel good as he kissed you under the stars.

Sometimes, you’d even dance in the pavilion with him, because dancing out in the ballroom was a social death sentence. He and you were forced to be subtle now, finding stray pockets of time just to see each other in your hectic lives.

“Sho, what is this?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow at him as he extended a hand to you.

The lamp was lighted and placed in the pavilion, the only glow in the pitch-black night.

“Don’t play this game,” Shoto laughed, holding out a hand to you. “Dance with me, Snowflake.”

You take his hand, giving him a smile. “If you insist.”

He twirled you in a circle, trying to take his mind off his stressful day when you break the silence. “You seem discontented.” You noted. “Did something happen?”

Being called out, he focused his eyes on you. “Momo’s just…different from you. I won’t say I’m unhappy with her, it’ll just…take some getting used to.”

“You are an awful liar, and I hope you know that.”

Shoto’s face reddened.

“But you also have a good heart.” You said, looking up at him as he moved in sync with your footsteps. “Do not lose that.”

Shoto nodded, eyes soft and gentle. “You too.”

—

Shoto often caught you with a faraway look from that day on. You are the one person he couldn’t ever read properly, so when you didn’t tell him what was wrong, he tried not to push, either.

“Is it about me?” He remembers asking.

You’d turned to look at him, eyes distant and dazed, before nodding vacantly. He pulled you into his embrace at your request, trying to think of what to say.

I’m here for you.

Don’t be sad.

Please don’t cry.

Part of Shoto prayed for you not to cry. He wouldn’t know how to handle it.

He had seen so many layers of you, from your beautiful appearance and personality to your snarkiness and blatant honesty. The strongest side of you, he realised. And now he was cradling the most vulnerable side of you, cherishing you at your weakest.

Care, Shoto realised, is a bucket load of yearning to make that desired person happy. To show them that they have someone, to show that he’s there for them.

Shoto feels your face, and it’s wet and red.

When you get back to the palace, you both blame it on the cold.

—

The subject was never brought up again, and Shoto doesn’t have a spare second as he’s whisked off to learn first-hand how royal duties are carried out. There was nothing he hated more than having to spend a full day with the king himself, but with a lot of things, he just grinned and bore it.

After being cooped up inside the castle for so long, Shoto had to admit it was nice to go somewhere outside.

His memory of this is fuzzy. It made sense that it was, because he typically tried to erase all memories that his father was in.

Shoto knows his father was doing something, some event or opening that was too long ago to remember.

He turned away for a second, and his eyes landed on a little girl standing in a park not too far away from the crowd. A red balloon was tight in her grip as she stared at him from afar, with large, round eyes that reminded him of you.

A gust of wind blew, causing her grasp to loosen as it flew out of her hold. As luck would have it, it got stuck on a branch too high up. Shoto could probably reach it with no issue, but it would be impossible for her to reach it.

The little girl with earmuffs looked up, staring at her balloon in confusion.

She glanced at her hand, and then back at the balloon, looking on the verge of crying.

She started jumping trying to get it but, to no avail, until…

Shoto’s eyes widened when he saw you leaving your servent’s side, walking up to the girl and dropping to your knees to meet her at eye level.

What were you doing here?

He supposed you were allowed to roam outside the palace walls but his world had always been confined to them.

He doesn’t know what you said to her, but the next thing he saw was you carrying her up as the small girl grabbed a whole of the end of the balloon to get it down.

You give her a small smile, the smile that always got Shoto’s heart to skip two beats as you patted her head sweetly, completely unaware of his trained gaze.

Shoto remembers, he really does. You’re as kind as you were honest, aware of the true nature of how unfair life could be, but gentle in a way further than words.

He remembers praying at the time every day that slipped by, that this month would go on forever.

[anonbinaryweirdo]

im rambling about me n devons ocsssss

for the deaths part, there's suicide mention(s) and mention(s) of fire !!

let m see if can remember deaths;

starting with the royales—

Jeremy was Michael Afton'ed (he got his insides ripped out basically)

Lucy got into... a car accident??? @deeplyinlovewithstars help

I think they said Diana got kidnapped? unsure

Dilon hung himself at a young age (the range was 5-12?? I think. I just know he was the first to die)

Derek was shot in the head at 15

Delilah got caught in a fire (I forget how old she was)

as for the mantovans—

Shamora got pushed off a building (I think she was the last to die.)

Alexandra was shot on her 16th birthday

misc characters—

Josh was deliberately drowned when he was twelve

Ash, same case scenario as Delilah, when he was younger

Haru (i forgot. but this just reminded me that HE was the last to die, not shamora)

and I'm sure that there are more, I just can't think of anyone else important

okay, now present canon ships !!!!! >:D (exes and current partners)

Josmora (Josh x Shamora; married)

Dilexru (this is an improvised ship name for Dilon x Alexandra x Haru; married)

Derash (Derek x Ash; married)

Jerelucy (Jeremy x Lucy; married)

Alarchie (Alexandra x Archie; exes)

Dereseph??? (Derek x Joseph; exes)

that's all I can remember

other relationships—

Diana, Dilon, Derek, Delilah (oldest-youngest; siblings)

Shamora, Alexandra (siblings)

Alexandra, Derek (best friends; in-laws)

Shamora, Delilah/Dilon (best friends; in-laws)

Delilah, Joshua/Ash (best friends; in-laws? Ash is her in law, not sure about Josh)

Shamora, Dilory (enemies. Dilory fucking killed her bye)

Every main OC, Joseph (they would all kill him on the spot)

probably some more

HEADCANONS + FACTS YAYYY

oh God where to begin

let's get. let's get Dilon out of the way. we hced a few months ago that he would NNNOT bail his spouses out of prison. oh, shamoras in jail? bailed. Josh is in jail? bailed. Lucy is in jail? bailed. Alex and Haru? keep them in there until their sentence is up. (/hj). don't get him wrong, he LOVES his spouses. but holy shit.

everyone has daddy issues. except ash. he's an orphan he doesn't get issues (jkjk but I THINK he had mommy issues??)

fun fact; the ONLY OC who has kept her personality throughout the years, was Lucy. she's perfect. I cringe every time I read back on old roleplays and see old screenshots. shamora would NOT act like this KILL IT

another fun fact; we would always argue over whether or not Jeremy was a top or bottom. this bitch recently revealed that he is a SWITCH (as Jeremy is their oc)

ANOTHER fun fact; during the starting days of our roleplays, Jeremy was like. Lucifer and Lucy was like Lillith. I'm so positive that this HAS changed. a lot. it probably isn't even canon anymore js

I think that Derek and Haru get along well, and yes it is because Joseph is Haru's brother as well as Derek's ex, BUT! Haru does NOT, and WILL not condone the type of abuse Joseph put Derek through EVER. he does not condone his brother's actions whatsoever, and always sided with Derek after he found out about everything.

adding onto Derek and Haru; Derek probably freaked out the first few times he saw Haru, given that him and Joseph look alike, if you don't count Haru's heterochromia

everyone lives together !! well, there's this one mansion that EVERYONE lives in, but they all have their separate homes for privacy (this is actually canon)

I'd like to think that Alex dyed her hair because she doesn't like thinking back on her birthday, aka the day she died. she's originally brunette, like shamora, but dyed her hair blue as to rid that image from her conscious. sometimes she forgets what she used to look like, until she somehow comes across an older picture, which sends her into a spiral

despite their coldness and stoicness, I would like to think that, if not anything else, Shamora and Dilon are passionate when it comes to their lovers !!

Dilon is the second oldest out of like five kids, affection was probably a frequent thing given how deprived of it they were when they were kids.. so if Alex were to fall victim to a panic attack, or if Haru just wasn't having a good day, Dilon would know, and go about dealing with it in his own ways. as I said earlier, he absolutely loves his spouses, even if he flat out refuses to acknowledge it most of the time. this only happens behind closed doors !! and I don't think they would tease him for it. this is rare, and he means well, so they'd accept it with lots of love !! plus they don't really feel like getting hit in the head with a pot like. ever.

and, unlike Dilon, Shamora initiates affection herself, even when she knows that Josh doesn't need it in that moment. her sister was clingy growing up, so she hardly minds Josh's clinginess. in fact, she'll start to get worried if he isn't holding onto her shirt somehow. there are times where she'll just sit with him and scratch behind his ears, or she'll grab his hand and tug him along with her if she knows she's going somewhere—knowing that Josh has to be trailing behind her, or he'll get lost and spiral if she isn't back within ten twenty minutes. she's quiet when affection is initiated from either of them, and mostly sticks to her actions doing all the talking for her. if Josh starts to get insecure about his place in the relationship, she'll know before hand and talk to him about it—one of the rare times she's actually verbal during any sort of affection.

I saw Devon say this in a hc channel; but Haru is definitely the mom friend !! skddkjdj my brain is running at 999mph thinking about them forgive me

I'm gonna stop here because 🧍🏽who tfs gonna read this besides Devon I am RAMBLING (I still have lots to say too. a lot more 💔)