#I'm at 8k but i needed a break from the angst
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
intheorangebedroom · 5 months ago
Text
The corner deli
Tumblr media
Summary: You take a night trip to the corner deli and meet this handsome guy, but shit turns out weird.
Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader
A/N:  This is what happens when I can't sleep. Happy Frankie Friday, Orange besties 🧡
Word count: 1.8k
The corner deli
Tumblr media
And here you are, another Friday night on your own, reading a book you can barely focus on, scrolling mindlessly in between chapters, slouched in your couch and feeling sorry for yourself. Those stupid, evil thoughts starting to whisper some nasty shit in the back of your mind, and you’re letting it happen. 
It’s on you, though, because some of your coworkers, the younger ones, offered you to go out with them but you said no. You’re too much of an introvert, but not enough that you don’t feel miserable now, sitting here alone while the city’s buoyant life unfolds without you behind your closed windows. What difference does it make, anyway. It goes on, whether you decide to join or not. No one misses you, so there.
Fuck it. Tonight, you’re gonna eat your feelings. You slip on your jeans and your shoes and go out to the deli on the corner, it’s open all night. You’ll get some Pringles or ice cream, whatever comes first. 
You’re walking down an aisle, hesitating between two flavors of Chex Mix, when you catch sight of THE most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. 
He’s tall. And so fucking broad. His denim shirt is working hard containing the breadth of his solid shoulders, his jeans are tight on his thighs. He’s got a scruffy, patchy beard and strands of brown hair curling at his ears underneath his trucker hat. He’s all sharp profile, solid features, plush lips, oh! his lips are just… generous, and his eyes… god his eyes are dark, deep and soulful. Wait, did you just use the word soulful? Well, he’s that fucking handsome. There’s a stern crease splitting his brow, but it’s tempered by the small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the kind you get from laughing often. 
You look down at yourself and… fuck. Your mascara has run off because yeah, maybe you cried a little, earlier. Your hair is dirty, pulled together in a messy bun that looks nothing like those supposedly effortless hairdos thrown at you in Instagram reels. The ones that make you feel unworthy of the air you’re breathing. You're wearing a dirty pair of 501 with your pajama shirt tucked in, there’s no way you're getting anywhere near him, even if you had any self-confidence to boot. 
You walk over to the back of the store. Not that it’s a good hiding spot, it’s just where the fridges are. And of course, they’re out of the one ice cream flavor you like. Wow. It really ain’t your day, is it? Craning your neck to scan the empty top shelf, you spot the very last Netflix and Chill’d all the way to the back. Opening the door, you stand on tiptoes, fingers scrambling over the icy shelf to grab it, but you can’t reach that high. 
That’s when you feel him. His chest barely brushing at your back. You get a whiff of his scent and you swallow a gasp. He smells like leather and warm skin and laundry and you can’t even move anymore, you just stand there like a Roman statue in a museum, with one arm up. Your gaze follows his arm as it extends toward the shelf, reaching it with ease. As his large hand grabs the last tub, the whole sequence of movements completely effortless and well, graceful.  
He takes a step away from you, and your body’s responding again. Your heels meet the ground, and you turn to face him. There’s the promise of a smile curling his lips, fuck he is stupidly handsome, Jesus fucking Christ, are you still breathing? He hands you the tub and all you can think of is how thick his fingers look around it, and how they would feel buried inside you, or wrapped around your throat, and… oh wow. That escalated quickly. 
You swallow hard, blinking the filthy thoughts away. There’s something in the way he looks at you, a glimmer in his eyes. You feel… warm. He flexes his jaw to the side, he’s smiling at you, still holding that goddamn ice cream, you gotta say or do something, but your body has bailed on you, yet again.
Eventually, you take the cold tub, careful not to touch his fingers. But he’s not letting go. Your breathing turns shallow, you can barely hold his gaze. Why does he keep looking at you with those soft brown eyes, why is he smiling like that? He can’t possibly be… what? Interested in you? No one can. No one ever is. That’s why you’re in this deli, alone, in the middle of the night, wearing last week's dirty laundry. 
Oh. Of course. He’s waiting for you to thank him. Jesus you’re stupid.
“Thanks. You. I mean, thank you.” Oh, great, that went well. 
There’s a beat before he releases his grip and lets go of the tub. 
“You’re welcome,” he says, and of course, his voice is velvet. Round and husky and low. 
There’s an easy confidence about him, like quiet assertiveness, is that a thing? Like he knows his worth, but he doesn’t need to step all over people’s toes to show it. 
You’re raking your brain for some smart quip you know will come to you tomorrow morning in the shower, when you hear a commotion at the cashier. Somebody’s shouting orders, a dude holding up something in his hand, pointing it at the employee behind the plexiglass. Holding a fucking handgun, Jesus fuck the place is getting robbed.
Your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. There’s pressure around your elbow and you’re yanked down onto the dirty tiles. 
The man in the trucker hat is crouching next to you. He holds his index finger pressed to his lips. His face looks different, his jaw tensed, a deep frown darkening his face. His eyes are pitch black, is it even the same man? A minute ago, he looked like the friendly next-door neighbor you’re daydreaming about fucking in the basement laundry room, and now he looks like someone who’s about to shoot you in the face.  
“Be quiet,” he mouthes under the noises coming from the front of the store, “stay here, everything’s gonna be ok.”
You don’t want him to leave you here on your own, no matter how threatening he looks, but he’s already moving toward the front and anyway, it’s not like you can move.  
Shouldn’t you call 911? He told you to be quiet, what the hell are you supposed to do?
It all happens so fast, and you’re so scared. You’ve never been this scared in your entire life. You hear a thud, followed by a gunshot. You clasp your hand to your mouth, you’re sure you’re gonna die. You hear the sounds of a struggle, a loud, piercing yelp, and another, louder thud. There are a few more noises, fabrics rustling, muffled groans and nothing. Deafening silence. 
You can’t feel your legs and your heart is beating in your throat when you finally hear him, the guy in the trucker hat. His voice is firm and his tone commanding as he addresses the deli employee. 
“Hey, hey look at me, you’re ok. Can you call 911? Hey! Call 911. You’re ok.”
Your legs won’t carry you. You have to crawl to the front of the store on your hands and knees, and your eyes grow wide at the scene you find there. A tall, young man with a shaved head is lying on the floor, wrists in a zip tie, he’s passed out, or dead, you’re not sure and you don’t wanna know. And anyway, you don’t have time to see more. He’s here, in front of you, the guy in the trucker hat, blocking the view with his massive silhouette, helping you get up and walking you outside. 
“You ok?” he asks you. 
He’s got one hand in the small of your back, the other one is gripping your arm. They’re warm, and that’s how you register how cold you are. In fact, you’re shivering in the warm city night, teeth chattering and all. 
“It’s over, I got you,” he says, cupping your face and you look up at him, nodding, mumbling, “I’m ok, yeah, I’m ok,” trying to focus on his warmth radiating through your cheeks. 
When they arrive, the cops instruct you to stay to make a deposition. Uncomfortable doesn’t cut it to describe your state of mind throughout the entire process, but he stands near you the whole time, his shoulder against yours, and you don’t think you could stand straight without it. 
Eventually, the place clears up. The perp came to, they handcuffed him and took him away. As he passed near you, you saw a purple bruise blooming on his neck. 
You’re told you’re free to go, and there’s really no reason for you to stay. 
Except there is. 
“So um… you’re a cop, or something?” you ask, looking intently at the fascinating tip of your Van’s, bumping against the curb. 
He shakes his head. 
“No. US Air Force. I’m a pilot.”
Your head shoots up, mouth falling open into a silent oh. 
His smile is so fucking soft you want to kick the curb and break all your toes. 
“Well, thank you, anyway. That was really scary. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Now, there really isn’t any reason for you to linger. But he’s not moving, standing tall and broad and solid before you, hands propped on his hips, with that easy confidence about him. And that thing happens again, that thing where he looks at you with those gentle brown eyes and that promise of a smile, and you feel like you’re the center of the goddamn universe. 
“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, offering you his hand. 
From all the scary shits that went down tonight, this one has got to be the scariest, by far, because you know that if you take his hand, you’re not gonna let go. 
You hear your name coming out of your mouth, and it’s too late. You’re done for. Your small hand slides into his larger one, and he gives it a strong squeeze. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to tell you everything you need to know. 
And he’s not letting go. And you’re not letting go. You expect fucking fireworks, at this point, but it’s just… right. Like you don’t have to be scared. Like you don’t have to torture yourself anymore with mean-ass questions about how to behave or what to say next. Like you can simply be you, and it’ll be enough. 
“So,” he starts, and he’s downright grinning now, a dimpled smile that lights up his entire face, “d’you think we can consider this as our first date?”
****
Part 2
255 notes · View notes
kitorin · 8 months ago
Text
misalignment (n).
/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/
the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."
Tumblr media
contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)
Tumblr media
Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.
The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.
If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.
Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.
After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.
Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.
He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.
It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.
It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.
He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.
But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.
You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.
Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.
You're first to talk. "How's university been?"
"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."
You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”
Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”
You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”
“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”
Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.
God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.
With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.
You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”
“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.
You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.
“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”
Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.
I hate you.
Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.
Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.
I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.
Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.
"Reo? You good?"
"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"
"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."
"And yours is so pretty."
There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.
"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."
And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.
"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."
It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.
Neither of you say anything for a bit.
Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.
A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.
If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.
"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"
You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."
And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.
"Well, it was an honour."
It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?
Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?
"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."
Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.
Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.
"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.
It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.
A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."
Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.
"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"
It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.
Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.
"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."
"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."
And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.
Tumblr media
taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz
Tumblr media
© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
236 notes · View notes
daemour · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn
Word Count: 10,664
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences
Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.
Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything
-
this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.
hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up
Tumblr media
“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.
“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”
As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”
San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”
You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”
San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”
He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.
In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.
You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.
With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.
It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”
“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”
You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”
San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”
You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”
You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.
You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.
-
“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”
You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”
San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”
Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.
“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”
“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.
“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”
“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”
San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”
You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”
San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.
You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.
But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.
“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”
You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”
Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”
“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”
Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”
You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.
-
“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”
You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.
San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”
You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”
San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”
You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.
“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?
You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”
“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”
No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”
“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”
“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”
“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”
“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”
You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.
When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”
The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.
You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.
-
After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.
He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”
You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”
Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”
Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”
You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”
“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”
You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”
Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”
“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”
“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.
Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.
“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”
You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”
You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”
Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.
With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.
You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.
You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.
And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.
It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.
The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.
Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.
You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.
-
Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.
You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.
It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”
You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”
Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”
You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”
At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”
Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.
You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.
“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”
His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”
You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.
-
Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.
Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.
But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”
Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”
Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.
“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”
“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.
“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.
And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”
Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”
Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.
“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”
You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.
San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”
There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”
Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”
“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”
Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”
Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”
Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.
With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.
-
“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.
As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.
“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.
“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.
“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”
You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”
You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”
He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.
When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”
With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”
San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”
Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”
As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”
You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”
“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”
“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”
San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.
“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”
The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.
As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.
-
It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.
You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.
“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”
Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”
You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”
Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”
You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.
It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”
“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.
He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.
When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.
“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.
Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.
“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”
“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.
“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.
You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.
As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.
“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”
-
“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”
Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”
“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.
“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.
And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”
With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”
Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”
San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”
With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”
San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”
You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”
San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”
“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”
You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.
You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”
“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.
“No–”
“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”
Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.
And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.
You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.
With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.
“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.
“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”
A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”
You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”
There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”
You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”
Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.
He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.
“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”
You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”
San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.
“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.
-
When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.
“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.
“That would be nice.”
San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”
“I love you.”
His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”
His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.
And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.
“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”
You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”
You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.
“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.
His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream
His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.
When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”
“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.
When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.
“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.
He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”
You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”
You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.
With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.
His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”
San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”
You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.
“Answer me, YN.”
“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”
“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.
If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.
“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”
After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.
This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”
983 notes · View notes
Text
Master List
Tumblr media
This page is geared towards an 18+ Audience. Please read through any warnings at the start of fics as they are there for a reason.
please DO NOT repost my work without my permission.
My Ao3 Account- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger
My Wattpad Account- LovePersevering2
Etsy Shop - LoveDaggerPrints
Buy Me A Comic
Fic Commissions are available on my Etsy :)
Who I write for: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, other Marvel Women
What I will write: Smut, fluff, angst, g!p, au
Wanda Maximoff
Oneshots (All 18+)
New Neighbours- After meeting a beautiful woman in a store, you soon discover that she's your neighbour and she's single.
Devil In Disguise- Wanda isn't as innocent as everyone thinks she is.
Break Me- Wanda needs you to be rough with her and give her exactly what she wants.
Detention- Your Professor keeps you behind after class as you were distracted.
Take Control Of Me- You ask Wanda to use you as she wishes.
Are You Interested? -  "I'm very attracted to you, would you be interested in having an affair?"
Heatwave Fun- You and your girlfriend find a way to cool down during a heatwave.
Dirty Thoughts- While babysitting the twins, Wanda is left to listen to all the sinful thoughts of the older woman flickering through your mind.
Listen To Mommy- Your Mommy teaches you a lesson after being a brat.
Focus- Wanda tests how well you can concentrate while her hands roam your body.
Can't I?- "You can't control me the way you do them." "Can't I?"
Teach Me- After tutoring the twins, their mother decides to give you your own personal lesson.
Touch Me- You beg Wanda to give you what you desperately want.
Protective Girlfriend- Wanda gets worried when you hurt yourself in training. You find a way to convince her that you're perfectly fine.
Boyfriend- Inspired by the song by Dove Cameron
Please...- An affair that turns into more.
So Wrong- How can something so wrong feel so right?
We're Going To Get Along Just Fine- You go home with a mysterious woman from the bar.
Attention (G!P Reader) - You're girlfriend thinks you're spending too much time focussing on work so you give her the attention she wants.
A Workout To Remember (G!P Reader)- Your Gym crush makes a move on you.
Trick Or Treat (G!P Reader)- Loosely inspired by WV ep6 and the phrase trick or treat.
Lingerie (G!P Reader)- Wanda surprises you in a new lace set.
Series (All 18+)
The Babysitter (WIP- Currently 144k words)- In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?
Good Luck, Babe! (WIP- Currently 33k words)-
Returning to Westview after twelve years away causes you to look back on your secret love affair with Wanda, to remember the intimate moments you shared together before her refusal to accept her true self drove the two of you apart, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your broken heart alone.
What happens when you reunite with the woman you've been trying so hard to forget, forced to watch her suffer in an unhappy marriage that was slowly drowning her, still too scared to confront her true feelings?
Secrets (Completed- 23k words)- DARK FIC- "Do you swear on your life?" She lets her fingers trail up your arm, moving to your drag along the side of your neck and your jaw before resting on your chin, holding your face to look at her.
"I swear on my life," you whisper, unable to look away from her.
"Would you be interested in having an affair?"
This fic also includes relationship with Natasha Romanoff in which the reader is not faithful in.
Enemies With Benefits (Completed- 16k Words)- You hated her. She hated you. It was just sex. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?
Miss Maximoff (Completed- 8k) - After strange circumstances, you find yourself falling for the married woman next door.
I Don't Hate You- After going too far in training, Steve makes you check up on Wanda. Upon hearing a groan, panic fills you before you hear your name falling off her lips in a desperate moan. Oh.
Natasha Romanoff
One Shots
I Wanted You- "We tried so hard not to be torn apart. But at the end of it all, we both wanted something different...I wanted you. And you...you didn't want them to know."
Daddy Issues- TW for Abuse. Inspired by the song Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood
Warm Us Up (18+)- After your reluctance to work together causes you to be stranded in a safehouse, You come up with an idea on how to stop the two of you freezing to death.
I Kissed The Scars On Her Skin- You comfort Natasha after she starts to feel insecure about her body.
Series (All 18+)
The Soldier Of Death (WIP- Currently 32k words) Warning of graphic depictions of violence. - Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?
Secrets (Completed- 23k) Dark Fic- Same fic as the one mentioned in the Wanda Series section.
Love Is For Children (Completed 43k) - "You love her, don't you?" "Loved. I loved her."
Bad Idea (Completed 4.7k) - A friends with benefits story that turns into lovers.
You Need Me- Natasha should hate you. You're the enemy. But she can't lie and say you were wrong. She did need you.
Miss Romanoff- What happens when the mysterious woman you went home with turned out to be your new professor...
Wanda And Natasha X Reader
Should Have Knocked- You accidentally walk in on Wanda and Nat in a compromising position. What you didn't expect was for them to ask you to join them.
The Devil And An Angel- Your girlfriends tempt you to sin.
Alone In The Compound- Thinking you were alone, you and Wanda take advantage of the emptiness of the compound. What you didn't expect was for the Black Widow to walk in on you two.
Kinktober
Kinktober 2024
Kinkmas
More posts with links to be added soon, all of posts are on my other accounts so check them out if you want to read them before I post them on here :)
1K notes · View notes
youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year ago
Text
Bad Faith Part One
Masterlist | Part Two
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader
Rating: Mature (Part 2 will likely be explicit)
Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever. Welcome to part one of two!
There will ONLY be two parts! If you ask me at the end of part two where part three is, I'm going to point you back to this notes section!
If you asked me where part three is and you've been linked here, hi!
Length: 8k
Warnings: Angst. Angst angst angst angst; reader is going through a divorce; Reader's married surname is Hayward; unhealthy coping mechanisms; lovers to enemies to allies to lovers....did I mention angst by any chance? Cause—
Summary: There were so many resources about Steven Hayward from the last decade—interviews, profiles, filings. In all of them, Steven came off as a self-assured, cocky, pompous asshat, but a decent strategist. Those same profiles had described Mrs. Hayward as the trophy wife, the little woman behind the man, tending to the arrangements for their multi-million, 3,000 square foot penthouse overlooking Central Park. For as much as Harvey had forced himself to forget about her, he couldn’t forget her spirit, her determination, her desire to build a life, not to be handed one. None of the credit was given to her. None of the glory, none of the acknowledgement of what Harvey was certain were her blood, sweat and tears in that man’s holdings. 
The tears that she had seemed set to shed in his office were all the indication that Harvey needed.
Tumblr media
It was a long, harrowing moment of silence as Jessica processed all that you’d told her. You fought not to sniffle into the quiet, but your eyes had steadily been leaking tears for the last twenty minutes. Jessica finally stood from her armchair, patting you on the knee and murmuring, “You need a drink.” 
You spluttered a weak laugh, watching her stride over to her luxe kitchen. 
“Gin and tonic?”  
“I would drink the gin straight at that point," You failed to tease.
“Things aren’t all that desperate yet.” 
Yet. How reassuring.
You looked down at the damp, crumpled tissues in your hand before you raised one, dabbing at the few remaining tears. It was another few moments before you heard the click of Jessica’s heels crossing back to you. 
“...Thanks for holding back.” 
She frowned as you looked up at her, taking hold of the glass that she proffered. 
“Holding back?” 
“The I told you so.” 
Jessica’s lips pursed, her head tipping with what you could only assume was a blend of indignance and pity. 
“I did, for the record.” 
“I know.” 
“I told you nothing good could come from tangling your entire life up with that man.” 
“You know, I think those were the exact words that you closed your toast out with at the wedding.” You took a swig, wincing at the overwhelming tang of gin. “Christ, that’s strong.” 
“Too much?” 
“No. It’s perfect, actually.” 
Jessica smiled, lowering herself to sit beside you. 
“Do you have lawyers in mind?” 
“For the divorce? No.” 
“I’ll give you recommendations.” 
“I appreciate that, but that’s not why I’m here.” You glanced doggedly toward Jessica. “I need your help…Untangling a few holdings. Things that I can live off of, or break apart and sell for scraps. I can’t even afford a divorce lawyer right now—let alone whoever you’d suggest.” 
“What?” 
“Steven locked all of my credit cards and froze our joint bank account. I tried reaching out to him, but he won't answer me, and the bank won’t unfreeze it. He seems to think that I’m going to drain the entire thing.” 
“Why does he think that?” 
“Probably because that’s what he would do.” You sniffled, looking down into your glass. “I have some money in savings, but not a lot. Not enough for me to live off of beyond a few months.” 
“Holy hell,” Jessica sighed. You grunted, head hanging as you felt the weight of her judgement. “Do you have any idea which entities you want to go after?” 
“Yeah.” You set your drink down, reaching out to where you’d set your bag down and drawing out a bland beige file. You’d spent the morning working up your courage to come over and tell Jessica the awful truth, and had also spent that time putting together the data to do it. You flipped the file open and passed it over. 
“This is every single property and holding company that I have my name on. I circled the apartment buildings that I want to sell, and the companies that I think would be best suited to my purposes.” 
“Is Steven on all of these?” 
“Only the ones that I put an asterisk beside, but I wouldn't be surprised if he came after the others.”
Jessica hummed, nodding. “You knew exactly what I’d ask for.” 
“Well, I know you.” 
She smiled, closing your file and setting it on her lap. 
“Then I’m sure you know what I’m going to say next.” 
The implication made your stomach churn with discomfort. You took the glass up again, taking a deep pull from it. 
“I do,” You admitted, nose wrinkling again from the sharp juniper taste, “And I know that you’re going to say that it’s the best course of action—” 
“The only course of action.” 
“That’s patently untrue. You have more than one lawyer at your firm.” 
“Not one that could handle a case of this magnitude.” 
“Not even Louis?” 
“Louis is like a french bulldog. Harvey is a pitbull.” 
“You know, that’s actually a really harmful stereotype.”
Jessica’s brows lowered in chastisement, and you looked back down into your drink for safety.
“Wouldn’t it be a conflict of interest?” You added. 
“How could it be? You’ve barely spoken to or looked at the man in eleven years.” 
Eleven years. Had it really been that long? 
“I know that you and Harvey parted on bad terms,” Jessica offered softly, and continued over your disbelieving scoff, “But you need to come out of this with the funds and the strength for a good divorce lawyer. Harvey can give you that.” 
“What if he doesn’t take the case?” 
“He will.” 
“But if he doesn’t?” 
“He will.” 
“Jessica.” 
“He won't have a choice.” 
“Oh, he’ll love that. There’s nothing Harvey likes more than being backed in a corner."
“That’s when he comes out swinging the hardest.” She plucked the emptied glass out of your hand, heading toward the kitchen again. “Would you like another one?” 
You sighed, slouching heavily against the couch and scrubbing your tired eyes. 
“I’d really just like that bottle of gin—and a straw.”
-- 
“Would you stop fussing? You look fine.” 
“I don’t care how I look,” You grumbled, though that didn’t stop you from reaching down and adjusting the skirt of your dress. You didn’t want to admit that Jessica was right, though you both knew that she was. She always had you nailed dead to rights, and that morning was no different. 
You had a slight headache from the drinks you’d had at her apartment the night before, but it was hardly the worst hangover that you’d ever had. You were already two coffees in and you were itching for a third, but you already felt like shit. A third one would just make your heart pound harder, your hands more sweaty, and probably send your anxiety through the roof. You were certain the conversation you were about to have would do all of that for you, so no additional coffee was needed. 
You drew in a deep breath, standing and tugging your dress down again as you walked over to look through out over the city. You could hear the ringing of phones behind you, the clicking of heels, the chatter of conversation. You were just waiting for his voice, waiting for his bravado to enter before he did, to suck the air out of the room. 
“...What’d he say when you told him?” You asked. 
“I haven't yet. I thought it would be more effective if we told him together.” 
“So not only is he being forced to take my case, but it’s an ambush.” You cast Jessica an unimpressed sidelong glance, brows quirked in disbelief. She simply gave a small shrug. 
“I know my associates.” 
“Mm, I bet.” 
“I understand I was summoned? Have I been so terribly missed? Whaddaya say we play hooky, go to the batting cages?” 
There he was—each question was just punch after punch after punch. Your mouth and throat went dry as your body seemed to divert all available liquid assets to the sweat beginning to wet your palms. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know we had company,” He added. 
“It’s alright. Harvey, you know Mrs. Steven Hayward.” 
Hayward. You had always hated the name. Hell, you couldn’t even believe you’d taken it, but you’d been so damn afraid of putting a foot wrong, wary of having someone change their mind again about marrying you. 
You turned to face Harvey, leaning back against the window and folding your arms across your chest, pressing your slick palms to your sides. It shouldn't have been so vindicating to see Harvey looking so gobsmacked, to watch the color drain from his face as his eyes caught up with his mind—as he came to realize, yes, that Mrs. Steven Hayward. 
“Mr. Specter,” You greeted flatly. 
“I—What’s going on?” 
It’s nice to see you, too. You bit the inside of your cheek to silence your snide remark. 
“Mrs. Hayward needs to dissolve and sell a few of her holdings, and I told her that I had just the lawyer for the job,” Jessica announced. 
“...Is that lawyer in the room with us?” Harvey shook his head a little. 
“You are that lawyer. You’ll be taking the case pro-bono.” 
“Pro—Jessica, those cases are reserved for people that actually need help, not for multi-millionaires.” 
That stung in a way that it shouldn’t have—but he was right. There were surely cases that were more worthy of his attention. Still, you couldn't deny the fact that you needed his help, and that your pockets weren't nearly as deep as they used to be.
“My husband is the multi-millionaire, not me,” You argued. 
“Bullshit.” 
“You wanna see my bank statements? I have a little over three hundred in checking, a few thousand in savings.” 
“Mrs. Hayward needs this resolved as quickly as possible, and without any of your usual pomp and circumstance,” Jessica cut in. 
“Why don’t you do this through a divorce attorney?” Harvey pressed. 
“Because right now, I can’t afford one.” 
Harvey pursed his lips, looking between you and Jessica. You watched his jaw tick, saw the thick bob of his adam’s apple shift his collar a little. 
“You have a list of holdings?” He asked, glancing toward you.
“Twenty,” You nodded. 
“To be chopped up and sold for scraps?” 
“Yes.” 
“Seems a little ruthless for you.” 
“It’s what needs to be done.” 
“And you expect me to do it?” 
“I expect you to do your job. If you can’t get over the fact that it’s for me, then you’re in the wrong business.” 
Harvey’s gaze narrowed, his eyes darkening irritation. Oh, you knew that look—like it or not, you had a flash of it like it was yesterday. 
“...Where’s the file.” 
Jackpot. 
“On the desk.” 
You weren’t about to hand it to him. Hell—you weren’t about to hand anything to Harvey Specter on a silver fucking platter. He walked slowly to Jessica’s desk, eyes dropping to the file that had been thickened with information on each of the holdings. He opened it, gaze scanning your original sheet before flipping a couple of pages. 
“I’ll need time to look this over,” He argued. 
“Obviously.” 
“I’ll call you.” 
“Great.” 
“Number still the same?” 
Bastard. 
“My new number is on the inside of the folder.” 
“Great. Is there anything else that I should know?” 
“Just that Steven and his cadre of sharks will likely stick their noses in the second they smell blood in the water.” 
“We’ll be ready.” 
“Good.” 
Harvey gave you one last look, one long, sweeping, analyzing look before he turned away, striding out of Jessica’s office. You slowly released a long breath, shoulders untensing as he got further and further away. You lowered your hands, shaking them out and blowing cool air across your shaking, sweating palms. 
“Are you sweating?” Jessica asked. 
“Are you not? It’s boiling in here." You yanked your collar away from your neck, fanning over your heating skin.
“You can relax. He took the case.” 
“Because he had to, not because he wanted to.” 
“He’ll get over it, and he’ll do his job.” 
“He’s such a grumpy asshole,” You sighed, walking over to the chair that you’d left your jacket and bag on. “But if you say you’re gonna keep him on the straight and narrow—”
“I will—” 
“—Then I believe you. I’ve gotta go.” 
“Where to?” 
“I have to go look at an apartment.” 
“Work never ends.” 
“This is personal. I need to find a new place. I've been in a hotel for the last few nights, and I can't afford to keep that up."
“Don’t you own your place?”
You shook your head, averting your gaze as you pulled on your coat. 
“The penthouse is in Steven’s name.” 
You’d had a few hours to forget the weight of Jessica’s judgement, but you felt it again in full force as she shook her head. 
“...I thought you were smarter than this,” She said after a moment. 
You looked toward Jessica, giving her a small, weak smile. “I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Do you want me to call you a car? On the firm, of course.” 
“No! No, but thanks. I should reacquaint myself with the subway. I’m going to be using it more often.” 
-- 
You managed to hold it together until the real estate agent gave you a moment to ‘get a better sense of the space’. She clearly had no idea who you were, which was a boon, and hardly looked away from her phone as she waved with one hand and typed with the other thumb. You turned to look around, heard the snick of the door closing, and just…Lost it. 
Your tears poured out like someone had reached into your head and turned on a faucet. You buried your face into your hands, uncaring of the fact that your makeup was going to run together. You’d given eleven years of your life to a man that was throwing you to the wolves, as if you’d never meant a thing to him at all—as if you hadn’t put your blood, sweat, and tears into building his empire—into what you had once thought was your empire, too. 
And what the hell did you have to show for it? You stood in a $3,200 392 square foot studio apartment of a six-floor walk-up in the West Village, wearing a $4,900 dress, standing in $600 shoes, a your $1,200 purse shifting on your arm as your shoulders shook with sobs. 
You sniffled roughly, chest hiccuping tightly as you finally began to calm. You reached into your purse, drawing out a compact and flipping it open. You swiped at your run makeup, taking up the pressed powder puff and dabbing beneath your eyes, and over the tear tracks in your foundation. God, just pull it together for the snot-nosed realtor outside. Tell her that you wanted to take it, get the keys, and start figuring out how you could get your things from Steven. You would need to make money in the meantime.
You looked down, shifting rocking back on your heels to get a better look at your shoes. 
You never did love this outfit, and you couldn’t have worn it more than twice. Resale couldn’t be too far below purchase, could it? Come to think of it, you had closets full of hardly worn designer outfits at the penthouse. You looked around the studio. You could spring for a few wheeled clothing racks, find a few reputable resellers. You could get good money for your dresses, your shoes, probably even more for the jewelry that you almost certainly wouldn’t be keeping. Steven always had brought you home a trinket from the trips that he frequently took without you—beautiful gems that you knew now were trinkets for guilt, or something like it. You were almost certain Steven didn’t really feel guilt, but he could play-act at it well enough. 
But you didn’t have to worry about that at that moment. And as soon as Steven did rear his ugly head, he would have Harvey to deal with. Considering your history, that shouldn't have been a very comfortable thought—but you had Harvey and Jessica in your corner.  
You closed your eyes and drew in a deep breath, deeper than you were able to draw before. You held it for one...two...three...And pushed it out slowly as your heated face began to cool.
Deal with the realtor first. Sign the lease, get the keys, and start getting your life back together. 
--  
“This isn’t going to be an easy one," Harvey warned. 
“Of course it isn’t. If it was, you wouldn’t have agreed to take the case.” 
“I didn’t take it, it was given to me.” 
“You poor thing.”
It left you without any sympathy, your gaze stone-heavy as you watched him. He narrowed his eyes, a smile set in place as he rocked back and forth in his chair. He tapped his pen on his lips for a moment before he rocked fully forward. You watched his gaze skate across the file in front of him. 
“The way I see it, there are four easy wins here,” He turned the file toward you, and you scooted forward in your seat to get a better look at them. “The two apartment buildings on the upper East Side, the one in the Village, and the brownstone in Park Slope. We can hack away at the other sixteen down the road, but we should move on these.” 
“Okay.” 
“The easiest win is going to be in the Slope. The assessed value is…” His brows furrowed, and he leaned over the file and squinted, as if he wasn’t quite seeing the number correctly. 
“Seven million?” You filled in. Harvey’s gaze darted to yours, brows raised. 
“Nice chunk of change.” 
“I want it listed for ten.” 
“That may be a little unrealistic.” 
“I’m looking for 8.5 in cash, if possible, so I’m expecting some haggling. I already told the broker as much.” 
“Alright. Which of these buildings are you staying in?” 
“I’m not staying in any of them.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“I’m not staying in any of them.” 
“Why is that?” 
“I’m pairing down, staying somewhere else.” 
“You could stay in any of these rent-free.” 
“The HOA and utilities are more than I can afford right now.” 
“We could bake the HOA into the contract.” 
“If Steven found out I was staying in any of them, he’d find a way to tank the deal from the outside.” 
Harvey’s expression tightened a little before he nodded: “Fine. I’ll need your new address for the paperwork.”
“May I use your pen, please?” 
Harvey pushed the file closer, passing the pen with it. You could feel him watching you as you jotted down your address, name, and number. Harvey draws the file back to himself, sweeping over the information. 
“Keeping your married name?” 
“I’ve put in the paperwork to change it, but that could take at least a couple of months.” 
“I have a friend that clerks for the Supreme Court of New York, I could put in a word.” 
“That’s a kind offer but don’t worry about it. Is there anything else that we need to discuss today?” 
“No, that about covers it. I’ll call you if our real estate department or my associate comes across anything that could be beneficial to your situation.” 
“I may have just uncovered something.” 
You turned at the sound of a new voice, catching sight of a young man standing in the doorway. 
“This is Mike Ross, my associate,” Harvey introduced, standing and holding a hand out toward Mike. “Mike Ross, this is Mrs. Steven Hayward.” 
Your name left him with a vinegary annoyance that you’d been hoping would be absent from this meeting. You stood, holding out your hand and offering Mike your first name. 
“Would you prefer to be, uh..." Mike’s gaze darted between you and Harvey. 
“I’d prefer you not to use my married name, if possible.”
“Got it. So,” Mike stepped between you and Harvey, opening the file that he was holding. “I’ve found an additional six properties where your name is the only one on the lease.” 
You frowned, brow furrowing as you stepped closer to get a look at the file. “That can’t be right.” 
“If Mike found it, it’s right.” There was an irritated thread of steel in Harvey’s tone, and you shot him a scathing glance. 
“The comment was one of surprise, not distrust.”
“Maybe next time you can keep your surprise to yourself and let my associate speak.”
“Just like you’re letting him speak right now?” 
Harvey’s jaw went tight, and you raised your brows as a knowing smirk curled your lips before you turned back to Mike and nodded: 
“You were saying?” 
Mike’s expression was riddled with confusion, but he snapped back into action. 
“Right—There are, uh…Three complexes in downtown Brooklyn,” He shifted through the stack of papers and drew out photos. “They were gutted for renovation, but work was stopped before any further changes could be made. They cited funding concerns.” 
That really couldn’t be right. Steven was rolling in cash like a pig in shit. You took hold of the photos, frown deepening as you got a better look at them. 
“What is it?” Harvey pressed. 
“I don’t recognize any of these.” You flipped to the next one, then the next. The walls in all of them had been stripped; the floors were torn up; the wiring of the ceiling was exposed. 
“What about the other three?” You pressed. 
“Uh—One house in the Hamptons, one in Cape Cod, and one in Gstaad.” 
“You’re kidding,” You said flatly, looking at MIke. 
“I am not. I take it you don’t know about any of those, either?” 
“Not a one.”
“Would you want any of them?” 
“Maybe Cape Cod.” 
“Not Gstaad?” Harvey asked. 
“Mm, not worth it. I don’t know how to ski.” 
“Still?”
You rolled your eyes pointedly before you nodded back to Mike’s file. “Do you have the paperwork for the properties?” “Yeah, it’s, uh…” He set the file down, sifting through for the paper clipped documents and lining them up on Harvey's desk. “These are…All of them…Separated out by property.” 
You went down the line, flipping through each of the pages and growing more and more frantic as you did. 
“None of these are my signature.” 
“He would’ve closed through a title company, I can hunt that down,” Mike commented to Harvey. 
“We can throw these on the list of what needs to be sold, or put them in a living trust,” Harvey offered.
“...I don't know,” You leaned away, shaking your head. You felt so unsettled; after the rapid upheaval of your life over the last week you weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. After this, you had to worry about the divorce, the tabloids, whatever the fuck else you were going to do with your life—You felt your throat going tight with tears, and you cleared your throat harshly, trying to dispel some of the feeling. “If they were good investments, Steven would’ve used his name on them.” 
“All the more reason for you to ditch them.” 
“I want them inspected first. I’m not throwing these on the market until I know what the hell I’m dealing with.” 
“We can take care of that,” Mike promised. You nodded, glancing toward him and offering a tight, grateful smile. 
“Not that you’re paying us to.” 
Harvey’s snide reminder was like having a bucket of cold water poured over you. Your hands curled into fists where they rested on your hips. You were just on the edge of slapping the guy—
“You can deal with me directly,” You offered Mike. “My number’s in the file. Thank you, for—” You waved your hand toward the file. “Uncovering this. I appreciate it.” You took up your purse and threw your coat over your arm, trying to hold back your rapidly rising tears as your face flooded with heat. 
“You’re just going to go?” Harvey asked. 
“It’s always worked for you pretty well,” You snapped. “Figured I’d give it a try.” You stormed out without another word, keeping your gaze staunchly set on the floor that you desperately wanted to sink through. 
--  
“I have…So many questions right now,” Mike shook his head as he watched Mrs. Hayward stride toward the elevators. 
“You know where to start. Get the inspections lined up, and then start prepping the filings for forgery—” 
“Harvey,” Mike raised his hands, chuckling with shock. “What—Was that?” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Oh, please. The whole ‘if Mike found it it’s right’?” 
“Well, that’s true.” 
“That thing about her still not being able to ski? How do you know her?” 
“We’ve met, that’s all.” 
“It’s obviously more than that.” Mike searched Harvey’s gaze for a few moments. “C’mon, what’s your deal?” 
Harvey considered for a moment, his jaw working before he nodded to the right. “Close the door.” 
He lowered himself into his seat as Mike did as he asked, then turned back to him. 
“Mrs. Hayward and I…” Harvey’s expression tightened as he struggled with it. “We were…Involved for a while.” 
“While she was married?” 
“Before.” 
“How involved?” 
“We were engaged.” 
Mike’s eyes widened drastically, his brows making a jump toward his hairline. “En—What?” He laughed breathlessly. “The great Harvey Specter was almost nailed by that ice queen?” 
“Watch it,” Harvey warned; he was stunned as he felt a flair of protectiveness bloom in his chest. “She wasn’t always like that.” He glanced toward the property statements at the front of his desk, and he thought of the dismayed twist of her features. When she’d met his gaze, her eyes had been bright with tears. Maybe that was his fault, at least a little. He should’ve watched his tone a little more. He had surely made her cry enough, years ago. 
“What happened?” Mike pressed.
“I wasn’t ready.” 
“You broke it off?”
“...Something like that.” 
Harvey’s gaze flitted nervously toward Mike, and he could practically hear the wheels turning overtime in his head. It only took a moment before Mike’s eyes managed to widen further, his jaw dropping open in shock. 
“Oh my—There is no way.”
“I’m not proud of it,” Harvey raised a hand to stop Mike’s incredulous questioning. 
“Let me just make sure I’m on the same page here,” Mike shook his head. “You left her at the altar, she married this guy, and now you’re…Making jokes about the fact that she can’t ski or afford a lawyer?” 
Harvey’s heart sank into his stomach as he cut an irritated gaze across the desk. 
“I’m not proud of that, either.” 
“Didn’t stop you, though, did it.” 
“Are you finished with your lecture? Because you have a lot of work to do.” 
“On it,” Mike nodded, hopping out of his seat and restacking the paperwork into the file. 
“While you’re at it, keep your ear to the ground on that Park Slope property. The sooner the wheels are turning on that, the better. Use that number,” He tapped the file, “To call her, and send any documents to that address.” 
“Understood.” 
Harvey listened to Mike’s retreating footsteps as he twisted back and forth in his seat, restless in his discomfort. He pushed himself out of his seat in annoyance, unable to stand sitting anymore. Why had he shot his mouth off at her like that? He knew that she was going through it. He just figured when he’d first seen her in Jessica’s office that this situation wouldn’t be quite so hellish.
Steven Hayward was a billionaire, a former Forbes 30 Under 30 recipient. Harvey had done his digging when the engagement had first been announced—just a few months after Harvey had made the decision not to marry her. He’d assumed then that if she’d moved on so quickly, she couldn’t have loved him much in the first place, and the idea had solidified his decision not to go through with their wedding. 
Harvey had done his best to put her out of his mind, and he’d succeeded for the most part. But when Jessica had thrown this case at him, he’d gone back, done some more digging. There were so many resources about Steven Hayward from the last decade—interviews, profiles, filings. In all of them, Steven came off as a self-assured, cocky, pompous asshat, but a decent strategist. Those same profiles had described Mrs. Hayward as the trophy wife, the little woman behind the man, tending to the arrangements for their multi-million, 3,000 square foot penthouse overlooking Central Park. For as much as Harvey had forced himself to forget about her, he couldn’t forget her spirit, her determination, her desire to build a life, not to be handed one. None of the credit was given to her. None of the glory, none of the acknowledgement of what Harvey was certain were her blood, sweat and tears in that man’s holdings. 
The tears that she had seemed set to shed in his office were all the indication that Harvey needed. He scrubbed his hand across his face, trying to compose himself as he pushed the wounded memory of her away. 
Even footing. He needed to get the two of them on some kind of even footing. Every conversation couldn’t be a fight—it would just slow the both of them down. The sooner they sorted this out, the sooner they’d be out of one another’s hair. 
“Donna!” He called out, turning toward the door. Donna popped her head in a moment later, brows raised expectantly. “I need you to look an address up for me.”
“It’s in the West Village.” 
Harvey’s mouth worked wordlessly for a couple of seconds before he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “Mike?” 
“You shouldn’t have hired a super genius if you didn’t want him using that big brain.” 
“I was hoping he would use it for good, not evil.” 
“Oh, trust me, he is. Anything else?” 
“Lunch?” 
“It’s on the way.”
Of course it was. 
-- 
“This is everything?” 
“Yes. I checked and double-checked the list that you gave me before I left.” 
You nodded, planting your hands on your hips and looking over six industrial-sized trash bags that contained what you hoped were your tide-over funds. 
“The jewelry’s in there, too?” 
“Hey,” Aaron stepped closer to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. “When I say I got everything, I mean I got everything. I was this close to snagging a couple of light fixtures.” 
You laughed a little, nodding and leaning into the touch a little. You’d worked with Aaron Delaney for over five years at Hayward Realty. You’d hoped that he wouldn’t be in Steven’s camp in the divorce, and when you’d reached out to find out when Steven would definitely be at the office, Aaron had quickly jumped on your bandwagon. It had taken nearly three weeks, but he had come through. Not only had he told you when Steven would be out, but he’d offered to go into the apartment and get things for you. You hadn’t heard a thing from Mike in a couple of weeks, so you could only hope that everything was going smoothly on his end, but these bags would go a long way to bolstering your bitten budget. 
“You want my help cataloging it?” He offered. You shook your head a little. 
“No, god, you've done enough—and helped me lug this up six flights. Besides, Steven will be suspicious if you’re out of the office for too long—you’re too good an employee to be out of pocket for more than a few minutes. But if you’d like to be enlisted in mole duty going forward, I’m gonna need you to have your ear to the ground over there.” 
“You’ve got it.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Text me if you need anything.” 
“Will do, yeah. And thanks again, Aaron. Seriously.” 
“Keep your chin up, hon.” 
“Yeah,” You mumbled, turning back to the trash bags as Aaron headed for the door. God, you didn’t even know what was where. It was probably best to just go bag by bag, and hope all of the suits were together. You could hang the outfits up, take a picture, post it on the app that you were using to resell your luxury clothing. You could—and probably would—keep at least a couple of things for yourself, but you couldn’t go crazy. You’d need suits for your divorce settlement, and possibly for court…And for whatever the hell you wound up doing once this was all over. 
Because it would be over, eventually. There was a life for you on the other side of all of this, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that. Things would get easier, but right now, it all just…Fucking sucked. You had moved the few things that you had into the studio apartment, including your dresser, a bookshelf, a few books, and your favorite Eames lounge chair and reading lamp. You’d had to get a new bed—a full was all that you could use without overwhelming the space; you got a metal frame on Amazon that would get the job done, and you’d bought and built three racks for your clothing. You still hadn’t found an affordable couch, but you had found a nice oak grain bedside table on the sidewalk, with a handwritten looseleaf sign taped to it that read, FREE!!
You hadn’t had the chance to paint or put any personalizing touches on the space besides your furniture—no art, or knick knacks. The space was nearing functional, but you were certain that unpacking all of your clothing was going to make that a hell of a lot more difficult. 
You crouched down in front of the first bag, untying it and opening it. You could see some Scanlan Theodore, some Tuckernuck, some Bergdorf Goodman. This bag was already pretty promising. You sighed, taking the first dress out and wafting the fabric out. It didn’t need to be ironed or steamed, which was a blessing. You were already dreading how long this was going to take, but hell, at least it would give you something to do that wasn’t staring down the barrel of your dead-end future—
Okay. Okay, so not helpful, so not the time. You reached into your pocket, pulling your phone out of your pocket to find a podcast to listen to. There had to be something that you could listen to that would distract you from the monotony of filing and sorting your clothing out. You settled on one of your favorites before you began sorting through the first bag. You were right—a couple of Scanlans, two Tuckernucks, three Bergdorf Goodman’s–
Your sorting was interrupted by a knock on your door. You frowned, pushing yourself up. What else could be left? It had to be good if Aaron had lugged something else up six floors. You pushed yourself off of the floor, brushing the dust off of your sweatpants. 
“Alright, Delaney, what’d you forget?” You asked as you approached the door and tugged it open. 
The sight of Harvey Specter standing on your doorstep made your stomach want to violently unseat your lunch. His gaze swept over you critically, taking sight of you in your comfy clothes. Between the ratty old shirt, the sweats, and your fluffy socks, you were a far, far cry from the way that he’d become accustomed to seeing you in his office. 
“Can I, uh…” He peered over your shoulder, nodding inside. “Can I come in?” 
“I thought I was going to be hearing from Mr. Ross.” 
“Mike is busy, and we need to talk.” 
You couldn’t imagine what the hell you and Harvey needed to talk about. You didn’t want to let him in; you knew that what Harvey was about to see wasn’t what he was surely expecting. Your grip tightened on the handle before you drew in a deep breath nodding, “Sure.”
It was worse than you imagined. Harvey hardly got two steps inside before he stopped fully. Well, to be fair, there wasn’t a ton of space for him to wander around and explore; between the bed, the armchair, and the trash bags, there wasn’t much room for him to move around. You shut the door and pointedly cleared your throat, trying to jog him from his shock. As he faced you again, you could see him trying to mask his surprise, his brows drawing down over his eyes as he turned to a file in his hand. 
“You have an offer on the Park Slope house.”
“Why didn’t I get a call from my broker?” 
“I asked to deliver the news myself.” 
You frowned a little, taking hold of the file and flipping it open. Your eyes widened at the sight of a check paperclipped to the top of the files—for frighteningly beneath asking price. 
“I said I wanted it in cash.” 
“...I know that,” Harvey spoke slowly, as if he was dealing with a particularly difficult and over-caffeinated child. “That is a good faith deposit from the buyer.” 
“They’ve signed?” Your hands tighten around the file as your stomach flipped with excitement. “I didn’t ask my broker for a good faith deposit.” 
“No, I had it baked into the contract.” 
Your gaze flitted to Harvey, annoyance and admiration growing in equal measure. 
“I…Appreciate that,” You finally managed. “But in the future, please run any changes like that by me before you speak to my broker.” 
Harvey nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Understood.” 
“Thanks.” You closed to file, certain that if you didn’t, you’d just spend your time staring at the check—at your first lifeline in this whole mess. “Anything else?” 
“We need to get on a more even footing.” 
“...I don’t know what you mean.” 
Harvey gave you a chastising frown, one that would’ve made you wilt long ago—but now, you simply shook your head and shrugged. 
“I don’t,” You insisted. “Unless you mean that you’ll stop out your thinly veiled barbs about what you think you know about me.” 
“I remember more than you think.” 
“I’m not the woman that you left at the altar, Harvey.” Your admission and reminder left a bitter taste in your mouth. You had to force yourself to hold his gaze, even as his expression flooded with discomfort. You could see him desperately trying to push it away as his retort bubbled up:  
“And I’m not the man that left you there!”
“No?” You laughed openly. “Because this all looks pretty fucking familiar. You’re a shark, Harvey, and you’re a dick. Lucky for the both of us, that’s exactly what I need you to be right now.”
Harvey’s jaw tightened, and you could see his hands curling into fists before he shoved them into his pockets.
“Let’s get one thing perfectly clear,” He seethed, taking a small step closer, “What I do for you over the course of this case is purely because of my reputation in this city. I’m going to do my damndest to get you the best out of all of these properties, but do not think for a moment that the job I do comes from any interest, any compassion, anything worth a damn.”
“What compassion? Anyone with compassion would’ve at least had the grace to do better than a goddamn post-it note in my bridal suite that just said ‘sorry’. It didn't even look like your handwriting!” You loosed a hysterical laugh that had been building in your throat as he spoke. “Or did you not even want that in there? Maybe one of my bridesmaids scrawled it to keep me from just throwing myself off the fucking roof!”
Harvey’s expression flickered again, and you saw some of the color drain from his annoyance-flushed cheeks. You turned away, stomach roiling with embarrassment and irritation.
“Thanks for the file,” You managed, forcing a steadiness into your tone. “Going forward, I really do think it’s for the best that you communicate with me through Mr. Ross.”
“Gladly. Have a nice day, Mrs. Hayward.”
Three long strides, the creak of the door opening, and then slamming shut. You flinched at the sound, fingers tightening around the file, trying to focus on the check.
One hundred thousand dollars was an amazing start. One hundred thousand dollars could go toward your rent, your expenses, buy you some time. Maybe you could get a nice bottle of gin—or a couple of the cheap bottles the size of your head, the stuff that tasted like paint thinner and knocked you flat on your ass until morning.
Maybe you could sell your clothing during the day and quietly slip into oblivion in the evening. You had nothing better to do with your nights. Almost none of your so-called friends had reached out after the news had broken—likely making the choice to side with Steven. He was the one that still had the money, of course, the position in society. His name was on the door, not yours.
Your name was on a 12 month lease, and on a check for one hundred thousand dollars.
sorry
Lowercase, hurriedly scrawled, ink smudged. You could still see the slightly crumpled post-it that had been sitting on your honeymoon suite vanity when you’d returned after waiting at the back of the venue for almost an hour. 
Harvey hadn’t copped to writing it. Maybe he didn’t want to—or maybe he really didn’t write it. Maybe he wasn’t sorry. Maybe he saw the shitshow that your life had become and was glad that he’d gotten out early.
You glanced around the apartment, eyeing the row of trash bags, the rickety furniture. At this moment, you couldn’t blame him.
You tossed the file onto your bedside table before walking back to the trash bags. Bag by bag, then steam what needed to be steam, then sort by brand. Plan of attack. You could get that man out of your head.
That man—which one was worse to think about just now—Steven or Harvey?
You shook your head, forcing yourself to dismiss both of them for the morning. You didn’t have any more time for what could’ve been’s. You had here, you had now.
And you had shit to do.
--
“Okay, two things,” Mike announced as he rounded into Harvey’s office. “One, the purchase agreement for the brownstone is signed and the payment is on the way to her bank account. There’s also an offer for the apartment building in the upper East Side. Two—“
“What do you mean, two?” Harvey frowned. “That’s already two things.”
“Fine, three—“
“Super genius and he can’t even count—“
“I got six emails from Steven Hayward’s representation this morning, disputing ownership of all of the twenty original flagged properties.”
“Damnit,” Harvey hissed. “Even the houses she didn’t know about?”
“No, so far, they’ve been conspicuously left off of the list.”
“Where are we with those inspections?”
“In progress, should hear back by the end of the week.”
“Good.”
Mike nodded, and Harvey returned his attention to his laptop. At least, he did until he realized that Mike hadn’t left the room.
“Something else that you need to say?” Harvey prodded.
“Aren’t you going to ask how she is?”
“Why would I need to know that?”
“Come on, Harvey.”
“She’s a client, Mike.”
“A client that you were going to marry!”
“And I didn’t marry her. What do you think that says about my wealth of feeling for her?”
Mike sighed heavily through his nose, muttering, “Alright.” He began to turn away, heading for the door. “Well, if you had asked, I would’ve told you that she’s putting on a brave face, but she’s getting to the end of her rope.”
“Well I didn’t ask, but thank you for that poetic and poignant diagnosis.”
--
“You have to go.”
“Of all of my priorities right now, the gala is not one of them,” You insisted. “I’ve got about a hundred more urgent matters right now.”
“Make this one,” Jessica insisted, leaning back against her desk, her arms folding across her chest. “You know how badly you’ll be lampooned if you don't turn up.”
“And I’ll be lampooned if I do show up. Besides, I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Wear something you’ve worn before.”
“I don’t have most of those pieces anymore.”
“Then rent something.”
“You do remember that Steven is being honored this year?” 
“All the more reason for you to show your face.” 
“Jessica—“
“What’s your plan.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your plan—when this is all over? Are you going to go back into real estate?”
“…It’s crossed my mind.”
“You know that they will never let you back in if you slink out the back door and try to come in through the front again. They’ve rescinded your keys, honey. May as well stay in the house as long as you can.”
“This metaphor is beginning to exhaust me.”
Jessica grinned. “I better see your name on the RSVP list by the end of the day.”
“Since when do you have access to that information?”
“I have my sources.”
You heard two knocks, followed by the increasingly comforting sound of Mike’s voice: “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Not at all,” Jessica waved him inside. “I’m hoping for a fruitful update.”
“Well,” Mike gave a small, nervous smile as he joined the two of you. “The good news is that purchase for the brownstone is moving through the channels, and there are interested buyers for the upper East Side apartment building. Unfortunately —“ The word made your gut swoop. “—Your ex-husband has come out of the woodwork. He’s trying to stake a claim on the properties, and on a hold co. We’re monitoring the situation,” Mike added before either you or Jessica could speak, “But I wanted to make you aware of what you could be facing sometime soon.”
You nodded, wringing your hands where they were folded in your lap.
“I appreciate the update.”
“Of course.”
“Why isn’t Harvey relaying this to me himself?” Jessica frowned. You raised your brows, glancing toward Mike, and fighting back a wave of amusement at his blatant deer-in-headlines expression.
“He had a—meeting,” He flubbed before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I should, uh–” 
Jessica’s brows raise skeptically, but she nods, and you bite back a laugh as Mike leaves the room with a measured hurry. 
“...Why do I have the feeling that the two of you are keeping something from me?” 
“I don’t know what you mean,” You shrugged, pushing yourself out of your seat. “Now if you excuse me, I have some clothes to package—” 
“And a gala outfit to find. I understand.” 
You turned from Jessica’s smug grin, rolling your eyes as she tacked on, 
“And don’t forget to get your nails done!”
You rounded out of the office, pulling up short as you slammed into someone. 
“Oh! Fuck, sorry!” You breathed as their hands landed on your hips to steady you. 
“...Don’t worry about it.” Harvey’s flat tone turned your stomach. You cleared your throat, stepping back and out of his hands. 
“I’ll watch where I’m going.” 
“Sounds like a plan.” 
You gave a firm nod as you skirted around him, face flooding with embarrassed heat as you strode toward the elevators. 
-- 
The gala. You’d completely forgotten about the gala until Jessica had brought it up. Six months ago, planning the evening had been the center of your world. You’d put a deposit down for a custom dress, had it fitted. Steven had asked you to coordinate a cocktail party for the two hours beforehand—an intimate gathering for 150 of your closest friends and associates. You sighed, leaning back against the hard subway seat and gazing at your appearance in the window opposite you. 
You could just see it now—the who’s who of New York’s real estate scene all swanning up to the penthouse, lounging fashionably, eating the hors d'oeuvres that you’d chosen and drinking the champagne that you’d ordered by the case…
…The champagne that you had ordered…
Come to think of it, those contracts all had your name on them, your contact information. Steven hadn’t been involved with a damn thing, save for the use of his credit card to put down deposits. He never did—he expected you to handle all of the coordination on the day as well; he would swan in an hour after the party started and do his scant duties as the host.
A devilish grin curled your lips. You were sure you still had all of the confirmations in your email. You could cancel all of it—the ice sculpture, the caterer, the champagne…Well, maybe you could divert one case to your new apartment, and cancel the rest. 
Oh, you could really see it now—Steven seething as he frantically checked his emails for any hint of vendors, any phone number or email that he could call to find out what the hell happened to the party that was to-be. You were certain that the tailor still had your dress—and you had a check for a hundred thousand dollars that you could dip into for a manicure. 
You stood as the train pulled into your station. You were suddenly looking forward to the gala.
Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @gina239 ; @technicallykawaiisoul ; @coldheart-lonelysoul ; @kathrinemelissa ; @jacxx2 ; @pillowjj ; @chanaaaannel ; @avampirescholar ; @kmc1989
756 notes · View notes
buddierecs · 5 months ago
Text
jealous!eddie diaz buddie fics
all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
hold the line (to my heart) by: erotes "eddie diaz is not jealous. it is entirely normal to be annoyed that his best friend is busy flirting in the middle of a crisis. obviously." word count: 7k important tags: 911 lone star characters, oblivous!eddie diaz, getting together counting pulses by: tinyydancerr "eddie diaz’s life is going great. he’s in therapy, he’s got a great girlfriend, a great kid, his friend is getting married to the woman of his dreams, and his best friend just came out to him. now his best friend is dating their new friend. things are going great. he promises." word count: 63k important tags: buck/tommy, eddie diaz has ocd, catholic guilt, pining, buckley-diaz family, co-parenting, slow burn hey now, hey now by: fallingthorns "after returning to the 118, eddie becomes a full-time paramedic and ravi becomes buck's partner. eddie absolutely doesn't feel anything about that, not at all." word count: 10k important tags: 5+1 things, fluff, pining, humour, getting together, love confessions i used to call you my best friend (way back before you were my everything) by: snowyroads "in which eddie is so in love with his best friend but that’s totally normal. oh, and hen’s tired of his shit." word count: 5.3k important tags: sexuality crisis, pining, fluff, getting together, sexual tension my heart aches with love for you by: farfromthstars "eddie and marisol run into buck and tommy on a date. eddie is not jealous." word count: 1.7k important tags: feelings realisation, pre-relationship, pining advice wanted by: cairparavels "eddie diaz takes to reddit to figure out why he hates his best friend’s new boyfriend so much." word count: 8k important tags: social media, reddit, misunderstandings, tommy kinard bashing, idiots in love, fluff, angst, humour, mutual pining, getting together good luck, babe by: hattalove "sometimes, when you've had a bad week, all you want is a romantic evening out with your wife over terrible pizza, and what you get instead is some kind of intricate gay ritual happening two tables away from you." word count: 2.1k important tags: outsider pov, social media, twitter you're the one by: smilingbuckley "chimney pretends to be buck’s boyfriend to get a guy to back off. eddie doesn't like it." word count: 2.5k important tags: crack, fake dating, platonic kissing, pre-relationship, first kiss, love confessions, fluff, angst tryna find my way back to you (cause i'm needing a little bit of love) by: mumucow_xD "when buck joins the 126 team for a whole month and eddie didn't expect it to awake something in him" word count: 45k important tags: whump, minor angst, feelings realisation, drunken confessions pining from the passenger seat by: orphan_account "eddie pines from the passenger seat" word count: 5.4k important tags: pining, soft!buddie, getting together, first kiss baby i can ease the ache (let me give your heart a break) by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck wants to date natalia, eddie wants to die, chimney and maddie are very good at motivational speeches and buck is not as oblivious as people make him out to be." word count: 4.6k important tags: possessive!eddie diaz, first kiss, love confessions, getting together plus or minus by: elvensorceress "taylor is offered a job across the country and asks buck to go with her. buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is." word count: 10k important tags: idiots in love, oblivious, getting together, soft!buddie, love confessions, mutual pining waiting on a distant feeling by: justhockey "five times eddie thought he was homophobic, and the one time he realised he was just jealous." word count: 5.9k important tags: 5+1 things, idiots in love, getting together, oblivious!eddie diaz, mutual pining, fluff, angst
387 notes · View notes
stylesispunk · 11 months ago
Text
"The not so invisible string" | part 3
not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader
previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?
word count:8k>
warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, fluff.
a/n: Hello! Well, it took me almost two weeks to write something, and it was hard because I had no inspiration, so this is probably my worst piece of writing. However, I hope you enjoy it, The next chapter will be better because I have inspo for that one. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 You can always send asks or talk to me whenever you want. Again, sorry for the chapter, i promise the next one will be better 😭
masterlist
dividers by @/saradika
When's the exact point in life when you stop feeling excitement for what's to come? Growing up becomes a deadly fear creeping within your bones because there's no more dreams left for you, but you face the cruel reality of life becoming a cycle, a boring idea of waking up to survive the day instead of living it, when you face that the ideas you grew up with died with the years passing by.
But now, as you approached Joel’s place of work, the familiar rush of butterflies and excitement began to creep back in. You felt like a teenager before a first date with the person you like. Just as you were breaking down, Joel came back, pulling you into perspective.
You had recalled the three happiest days of your life: the first time you held Tara in your arms, the first kiss with Joel, and the day you met Joel. Even though the last happened at such a young age, you should have forgotten about them by now.
The car pulled into the parking lot of Joel's workplace, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.
Finally, you arrived at Joel's office. The door stood ajar, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking. The sound reverberated in the room, and Joel looked up from his desk, a warm smile breaking across his face.
It has been days since the first time you saw him again, and your heart was getting used to the idea of him surrounding you again.
"Hey," he said, rising from his chair. "I'm glad you came."
You offered a polite smile in return. "Well, you promised me a job or something.”
Joel gestured for you to take a seat. "Absolutely, I'm excited to discuss it with you."
Once you took a seat, he was speechless for a moment once again, his gaze fixed on you, on your hair, on your eyes, on your lips, and all over your face when he used to kiss you all over every time he wanted to, but he dismissed those thoughts away before you could notice he was looking at you that way.
"I've been thinking," Joel began, breaking the momentary silence, "about how we can make this work, about the job, about us working together."
You nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“"I know it's not just a job," he admitted. "It's a sort of chance for the both of us to rekindle our friendship.”
Friendship—how bad he wanted to be the romance.
“So is this a trap?” you asked.
“A trap? No,” he answered. “You know, all this construction stuff is not your cup of tea, but I would really like for you to help me get things organized here.”
“Why?” Your eyebrows frowned.
Tumblr media
Joel leaned back in his chair, a contemplative expression on his face. "Because it was you who used to organize my life before, and you’re the most organized person I know.”
Your eyebrows raised slightly at his unexpected compliment, and the nostalgia in his eyes was evident.
"Joel, we need to be clear about our boundaries here," you emphasized, steering the conversation back to the work matter before it led to other things. "I'm here for a job, not to rekindle old flames or revisit the past. We have responsibilities, and our daughters are involved. Let's keep it professional."
He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I agree. Professional, it is. We're both adults, and I’m your boss now,” he smirked at the last sentence.
You chuckled at Joel's playful remark. "Fair enough, boss. Let's get down to the details, then. What exactly would my role be, and what are the expectations?"
Joel leaned forward, outlining the scope of the position and the responsibilities that needed your attention.
As you settled into the chair, Joel began outlining the job details, providing a comprehensive overview of the responsibilities involved. Your focus remained on the professional aspects of the conversation, but every now and then, a shared glance or a subtle reference to the past hinted at the layers of history between you.
Midway through the discussion, the door creaked open, and you turned to see Tommy entering the room.
"Am I interrupting something?" Tommy asked, glancing between Joel and you. His eyes widened, and a smile broke across his face as he recognized you.
"I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. "Wow, I didn't expect to see you here. It's been so many years!"
Joel stood up, wearing a grin. "Tommy, I introduce you to our new assistant.”
You extended a hand, but Tommy went straight up for a hug. "I’m really happy to see you again.”
“I say the same,” you replied with a smile, feeling a warmth in reconnecting with Tommy.
Tommy's eyes sparkled with nostalgia. "Well, it's great to have you back in the picture. Joel rarely brings people here, so you know what that means?” He paused a moment to look at you again. "Wow, you look just as beautiful as I remember.”
You exchanged a curious glance with Joel, knowing the implication behind Tommy's words.
Joel rolled his eyes, a bashful grin on his face. "Tommy, stop making it sound like a big deal."
"Hey, I'm just stating the facts," Tommy replied, winking at you. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to your business. Nice to see you again."
As Tommy exited the room, you turned back to Joel, the air carrying a subtle shift in dynamics.
As the conversation progressed, you found yourself immersed in work-related discussions, temporarily setting aside your shared history. The task at hand became the priority, and you delved into the details of the job, determined to establish clear professional boundaries in this unexpected turn of events in your life.
Tumblr media
As the weeks passed by, Joel and you got used to your new routine; seeing each other added some excitement back to your life again, and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgia for what you once had been together, bringing back the memories of the past, while the fresh cultivated growth between you added a new purpose to your days.
And as if the present would want to get the memories of your history together as two strings connecting your lives, you came back from a meeting with some suppliers with a scraped knee.
As you limped back into the office, Joel noticed your discomfort and immediately became concerned. "What happened?" he asked, his brows furrowed with worry.
"Just a little accident during the meeting," you replied, trying to play it off. But Joel could see through the facade, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.
He still knew you so well.
“They didn’t hit me, by the way; I fell. Just to clarify” you smiled, as Joel reached for the first aid kit, no long after, he was kneeling beside you, carefully cleaning and applying a band-aid to your scraped knee. The touch of his hands brought back a flood of memories—the innocence of childhood and the way he used to caressed your skin as you grew up.
As he secured the band-aid in place, Joel couldn't help but smile. "Do you remember the first time I did this?" he said, his tone nostalgic.
You chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? It seems like a lifetime ago."
Joel's gaze held a warmth that transcended time, and in that moment, the lines between past and present blurred. He placed his hand over your knee, and his touch made your skin burn at the contact, but not in an uncomfortable way, but as a warm sensation that only he was able to give.
"Joel,” you whispered.
Joel's touch lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. There was a silent understanding between you, a connection that surpassed words.
"Sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. "I just wanted to make sure it's secure."
You nodded, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and familiarity. "Thanks, Joel. For taking care of me.”
A smile played on his lips, and he stood up, disposing of the used bandage. "Anytime, Doe.”
Your hearts kept beating at the same sound and at the same rhythm, desperately finding a way to belong to each other again.
Tumblr media
Two days later, in the evening, as you were getting dinner ready for Dwight and Tara, Dwight suggested inviting Joel and Sarah over for dinner since it seemed like you and his daughter seemed to enjoy their presence so much.
“What? Why?” you asked, being caught off guard by the suggestion of having Joel share the same table with your husband.
“Well, it seems like Tara is a good friend with his daughter. Plus, it would be good to know this so famous Joel.”
You couldn't deny the truth in Dwight's words, but the idea of having Joel and Sarah over for dinner still stirred up complex emotions. Not for Sarah, of course. But Joel meeting the man you had settled with seemed so out of touch.
"Why not?" Tara chimed in, trying to reassure you. "It'll be nice having them over."
After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Alright, let's do it. But keep it simple, okay?” You turned to Dwight and said, “Please, behave.”
Dwight nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. "Simple it is. It's just a friendly dinner, no strings attached."
You took a deep breath, considering the implications. "Alright, I'll call Joel. But let's keep it casual.”
You dialed Joel's number, and after a few rings, he answered. "Hey, Doe, what's up?"
You smiled at the nickname this time. Since having him back, you were getting so used to his presence that you almost loved that word slipping from his lips.
"Joel, we were thinking of having you and Sarah over for dinner. Just something simple," you explained, trying to keep the tone casual.
There was a brief pause before Joel responded, "Dinner sounds great. We'd love to. What time?"
Joel agreed to the time you offered. You felt painful anticipation and nervousness after hanging up the phone.
+
As soon as you heard a car pulling over in front of your house, your heart rate increased at the nervousness you felt for what could be happening as soon as Joel entered that door. You feared Dwight the most. He wasn’t a bad man, but he clearly was someone different from the person you had married; his recent behavior had been puzzling, almost as if he wanted to drive you away. The thought of potential humiliation loomed, and you couldn't shake off the unease in your mind.
“I’ll welcome our guests,” he said, standing on the couch. You nodded, trying to mask the worry on your face.
As Dwight greeted Joel and Sarah at the door, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself in the kitchen. The sounds of casual conversation and laughter echoed from the living room.
You walked there, approaching Joel, who was wearing a really tight smile, trying not to make you uncomfortable.
“Hi!” you exclaimed, trying to erase the shakiness from your bones.
"Hey," Joel replied, his smile mirroring yours, but there was an unease in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed.
Dwight led everyone to the living room, and as they settled in, you couldn't shake off the tension in the air. Tara and Sarah, however, seemed eager to catch up, leaving you and Joel with a shared glance, reflecting the tiny smile at seeing both of your daughters spending time together.
“So, uhm, babe, why don’t you serve dinner? Our guests must be starving already!”
Dwight's casual comment lingered in the air, and you nodded, forcing a smile as you made your way to the kitchen. Joel followed suit, excusing himself from the conversation in the living room.
Once in the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted. You began to cut some vegetables for the salad, the clatter of utensils masking the quiet tension in the room.
Joel, sensing the unease, spoke up, "Do you need help?"
You glanced at him, grateful for the lifeline. "Sure, if you can handle chopping some vegetables."
As you worked side by side, the silence between you spoke louder than words. The weight of unspoken history loomed, and each passing moment felt like a delicate dance on a tightrope.
Joel broke the silence, his voice hushed. "Are you okay?"
You offered a tight smile, avoiding eye contact. "I'm fine. I'm just trying to get through the evening."
He nodded, respecting the boundaries between the two of you. Ever since you two had rekindled your relationship and friendship, you had become more open to him, yet being in your house as the wife of another man was completely different. He felt tense, yet he wanted to be fine for you.
With the vegetables chopped and the dinner done, Joel and you walked around the kitchen as if nothing had ever changed between the two of you. The warmth of shared memories collided with the reality of the present once more.
It was Friday night, and you and Joel stood side by side at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables and exchanging stories from the day. Joel’s fingers brushed against yours as you reached for spice—a simple touch that sent a shiver down your spine.
As you prepared the ingredients, Joel leaned in, whispering the steps of the recipe in your ear. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a rush of heat through you. Cooking had never been more enjoyable now than when you were living together, sharing stolen kisses in the middle of a kitchen transformed into a space where time seemed to stand still.
How bad you wanted time to stand still yet.
As the final touches were put on the dinner plates, Joel hesitated, his voice once again breaking the silence. "I never imagined us in a situation like this."
You paused, glancing at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, me being in the kitchen with you in the house you live in with your daughter and husband.”
The weight of his words echoed the sentiments you both shared but didn't dare voice. "Well, things change,” you replied, your tone carrying the weight of time passing by.
With the dinner ready, you both carried the plates to the dining table. Everyone sat down, Tara and Sarah sat side by side, and Dwight, seemingly at ease, directed the conversation toward casual topics, creating an illusion of normalcy.
Joel sat across from you, his eyes occasionally meeting yours, looking for an answer.
“So, Joel,” Dwight began, "what do you do for a living?”
“Building contractor,” he replied, a little bit tense.
“Building contractor” Dwight recalled, “We’re calling you when something gets broken.”
Joel chuckled, a nervous smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, something like that. Fixing things is what I do." He mocked.
Dwight nodded approvingly, steering the conversation away from the unspoken tension. "Well, it's good to have someone handy around. You never know when a pipe might burst or a door might get jammed."
“He is a contractor, not your personal Plummer,” you intervened, a little bit tense with Dwight's careless attitude.
Joel looked at you appreciatively, and you could sense his relief at your intervention. Dwight chuckled, a casual dismissal in his tone. "Well, fixing things is fixing things, right? It's all in the same realm."
You sighed inwardly, realizing that Dwight's nonchalant approach was his way of diffusing the tension, but it didn't alleviate the unease in the air. Joel shifted uncomfortably, sensing the delicate nature of the conversation.
“Maybe he could fix that attitude of yours,” Dwight said, swiping his wine as he pointed out your attitude.
You raised an eyebrow at Dwight's comment, with surprise and hurt crossing your face. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, and Joel let out a forced chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Come on, Dwight," Joel said with a half-smile, "we're all just figuring things out here. There is no need for any fixing, just understanding."
Dwight leaned back in his chair, a playful glint in his eye. "Fair enough, fair enough. I can take a joke. But seriously, Joel, you're welcome here. Just promise you won't go stealing my wife without a warning.”
Joel's forced chuckle faded into an uncomfortable silence as Dwight's comment took an unexpected turn. The atmosphere in the room became more palpably strained, and you exchanged a quick glance with Joel, recognizing the need to address the comment delicately.
“Tara, can you and Sarah go upstairs, please?” you pleaded. She immediately understood and took her friend with her upstairs.
Once they were out of sight, you turned to Dwight. “Stop behaving like an idiot in front of others,” you warned.
Dwight's playful demeanor shifted as he met your stern gaze. The air in the room carried the weight of your warning, and for a moment, the unspoken tension became more palpable.
"I was just trying to lighten the mood," Dwight responded, attempting to downplay the situation.
"Well, then lighten the mood without making inappropriate jokes," you countered, your voice firm.
Joel, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded in agreement. "She's right. Let's try to keep things civil and avoid unnecessary complications."
Dwight sighed, realizing he had crossed a line. "Fine, fine. I'll tone it down. No more jokes.” He paused for a moment, not looking at you. “But I would like to know why my wife hides that you are actually her boyfriend.”
The room fell into an uneasy silence as Dwight's question hung in the air. You felt the weight of his words, and Joel's eyes met yours.
“Actually, I think I better be going. It’s getting late,” Joel spoke, meeting your watered gaze.
“No, you’re not,” Dwight warned. His expression remained firm, and he spoke with an authoritative tone. "Joel, you're a guest here, and we should resolve this now. We're all adults, and we can handle an honest conversation."
Joel hesitated, caught between the desire to avoid further conflict and the weight of the unspoken truths that lingered in the room. He glanced at you, silently seeking guidance. You took a deep breath, recognizing the need to address the situation.
"Dwight, we need to handle this with care," you urged, your tone calm yet firm. "Joel has the right to leave if he feels uncomfortable. We can discuss things more openly when tensions have cooled down."
“I want to know why you lied to me about it,” Dwight said to you.
In your nervousness, Joel noticed you were uncomfortable. He reached for you to touch your shoulder in order to make you feel better, but before he could come closer, Dwight intervened.
“Don’t touch her,” Dwight warned.
Joel withdrew, a frown forming on his face, but he respected Dwight's demand. The room fell into an uneasy silence as the unspoken complexities of the situation continued to unfold. The need for a careful and honest conversation was evident, but the challenge was maintaining a level of respect and understanding in the face of rising tensions.
"We need to talk about this," you said, your voice steady. "But let's do it when we can all approach the conversation calmly and with an intention to understand, not to accuse."
Dwight nodded, his expression still stern. "Fine, but we will address this. No more hiding."
+
Later, as you and Dwight prepared for bed, the weight of the unspoken conversation loomed over you. Dwight, however, was not ready to let the matter rest.
"Before we go to sleep, can we talk about this?" he asked, his tone earnest.
You hesitated, fully aware that addressing the issue in your current emotional state would only escalate matters further. Instead of responding directly, you began gathering a few belongings, making your intention to spend the night in the guest room clear.
"I just need some space tonight," you explained, avoiding eye contact. "We can talk about everything in the morning when we've had time to think."
Dwight's expression shifted between frustration and concern. "I just want to understand, to know the truth."
"I know," you replied, your voice softening. "And we will talk. But not tonight."
“You’re married to me,” he called out before you stepped out of the room.
You turned to face him, your expression displaying frustration. “And?”
“You own me respect,” he stated.
“Respect must be earned, and right now you are acting like an idiot,” you acknowledged, your voice steady.
With that, you left the room, leaving Dwight to contemplate his behavior. Right now, you felt your marriage was dying little by little, and you wanted nothing more than just freedom.
+++
The next morning, there was a palpable sense of tension in the atmosphere. As you prepared for the day, the weight of the unresolved talk with Dwight hung heavy in your mind. He was nowhere to be found during the morning, so you get ready for the day.
After a restless night, you decided to head into work, hoping that a change of scenery and a return to routine might provide a necessary distraction. As you made your way to Joel’s office, you noticed Joel sitting with quiet contemplation in his eyes.
"Morning," you greeted, offering a tentative smile.
"Morning," Joel replied, his expression mirroring the unease in the room.
"Oh, I just wanted to say sorry for last night," you began, choosing your words carefully. " Dwight's attitude was completely
Joel shook his head, a small smile breaking through. "It's not your fault. Beside, I can handle a bit of tension."
You appreciated his understanding with a tiny smile.
“Did you sleep well, though? You seem restless,” he pointed out.
You sighed, acknowledging the toll the previous night had taken on your peace of mind. "Not really. The atmosphere was a bit... tense."
Joel's gaze softened, understanding the weight of the situation. “Well, I’m sorry for being back in your life,” he joked.
“Don’t say that,” you tilted your head. “You’re the best thing that happened to me this last time.”
Joel's smile widened at your words; the tension in the room was momentarily replaced with a warm exchange. "Well, if that's the case, I'm glad to be back." He paused and said, “Take your time. Relationships are like construction projects. They need a solid foundation and careful planning."
With a chuckle, you responded, "You would know, being a building contractor and all."
As the day unfolded, you found yourself grateful for Joel's presence and the brief moments of levity he brought. It was a reminder that, amidst the uncertainties, a supportive connection could make the uncharted territory feel a bit less daunting.
+++++
“By the way, Sarah called me; she and Tara are going to my house to finish this school project,” Joel told you.
A sense of relief washed over you as Joel shared the news about Sarah and Tara. It provided a welcomed diversion from the complex situation you had at home.
"Oh, that's great," you replied, a genuine smile forming. "At least they have each other's company. I hope the project is going well."
“It’s great how they became friends so easily. It reminds me of us,” he said, smiling.
You couldn't help but smile at Joel's observation. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?”
Joel nodded in agreement, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “Okay, so you’re free to go; I can drive Tara home once they’re done with the project.”
You nodded appreciatively at Joel's offer. "That would be great, thanks. And thanks for being here, Joel," you said, expressing gratitude for the fresh air he had offered you since he became part of your life again "It means a lot."
Joel nodded, a reassuring presence. "Take your time, and remember, I'm just a call away if you need anything. We'll get through this."
“See you later, then?”
“See you later, Doe”
+++++
Once you arrived back home, Dwight was there. The tension already felt like a string around your neck, suffocating you all over.
As you stepped back into the house, the familiar surroundings felt charged with tension. You both exchanged a cautious glance, each aware of the elephant in the room. Dwight, however, seemed to be avoiding the topic, engaging in mundane conversations through his phone with someone else.
After some time, when you could no longer bear the unspoken tension, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Dwight, we need to talk about last night. We can't just ignore it."
He sighed, a subtle avoidance in his eyes. "Can't it wait? I've got a work trip coming up, and I need to get everything sorted."
You raised an eyebrow, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your expression. "A work trip? You're leaving for the whole weekend?"
Dwight nodded, his gaze drifting away. "Yeah, well, I’ll come back next Friday. It's a last-minute thing. I need to handle some important projects. It came up unexpectedly."
The timing felt convenient yet suspicious. The air thickened with unspoken questions, but Dwight continued to divert the conversation away from the pressing issues.
"Dwight, we can't keep avoiding this," you insisted, your voice firm. "We need to address what happened."
"I know, I know," he replied, a hint of impatience in his tone. "But I've got to leave now, and I need to get some rest. Can we talk when I get back?"
The evasion felt deliberate, leaving you frustrated and with a sense of urgency to address the unresolved matters. However, faced with the impending work trip, Dwight's departure seemed inevitable.
"Fine," you reluctantly agreed, though the unease lingered. "But when you get back, we're talking about this. No more avoiding."
Dwight nodded, though his expression remained distant, but still he pecked your lips.
“Take care, and take care of Tara,” he said before stepping out of the house.
You were left there in the middle of a living room that felt colder as the days passed by. You have never felt so small in your life as you were feeling now, living under the same moon as Dwight, and that thought alone made you sick.
Tumblr media
Every time sadness overcomes you and salty tears stream out of your eyes, you take out your memory box and look at the pictures of your older self, the one who thought she knew everything, the one who thought she knew herself without her half. Every single time you came across those memories, it was Joel, the one beside you, looking at you as if you were hanging the moon in the sky, and you smiled.
When you looked at the pictures of him, you were relieved by the words and the kisses, and suddenly all the space surrounding you was full of him. You had come to terms with the fact that you weren’t complete without him; he lived inside you because he made you feel complete; he taught you how to love and be loved and how to know you were worth the world; and after him, you accepted that you were never going to be that foolish girl again.
But now, you were in front of his door, hesitating and gathering the courage to knock on the door and face the what if, and when Joel opened the door with surprise on his face, you were him, and he was you.
"Oh. You’re not a pizza guy,” he said, with evident surprise in his voice.
You managed a small smile at Joel's observation, appreciating the brief moment of levity. "No, not the pizza guy. But I was alone at my house, and I thought I could stop by and take Tara home.”
“Actually, I promised the girls a pizza; we were just about to.“
"Oh, okay, I can come later,” you interrupted, feeling ashamed of the sudden feeling you have to be closer to him again.
“What are you talking about? Of course, no, come here,” he said, moving from the door entrance to allow you to step into his house.
This was the first time you were here, and you couldn’t help but recall all the features of Joel that made him him. How those tiny objects and decorations around his house told the story of him, and how would it be if you didn’t leave that night?
“Such a cozy home.” You emphasize the word home since this one felt like one.
Joel smiled warmly at your compliment. "Thanks. I try to make it feel like home. Come on in; make yourself comfortable."
Suddenly, his hand traveled to your waist, guiding you through his house, and the air was cut from your lungs. Your eyes met for a second, and his hand left his spot; however, his handprint still burned.
However, Joel guided you toward the living room, where Tara and Sarah were eagerly setting up the table for their promised dinner. The girls looked up, their faces lighting up with surprise and excitement.
"Hey, look who's here!" Joel announced, his tone cheerful as he entered the living room with Sarah and Tara. The girls greeted you warmly, their excitement contagious.
“Mom? What are you doing here?” Tara asked, walking towards you to envelope you in a tight embrace.
You hug Tara and say, "I thought I'd drop by and join you guys for pizza." You lied.
I felt alone; you thought for yourself only.
Sarah chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Are you staying for the movie night too?"
You looked at Joel curious; he still had Friday's movie night. “I supposed,” you answered, still looking at Joel. “Can I?
"Absolutely,” Joel said, not taking his gaze away from yours.
“What about my dad?” Tara asked, “Is he okay with this?”
“Well, he left for a business trip, so we are alone for the weekend,” you replied.
And before more questions could be asked, the doorbell rang.
“The pizza, I’ll go for it,” Joel announced, disappearing from your view.
“Mom, are you okay?” Tara asked, concerned.
You gave Tara a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I just wanted to spend some time with you and have a fun movie night."
Tara nodded, still showing a hint of concern. "If you ever need to talk or anything..."
"Thank you, Tara. I appreciate that," you replied, grateful for her caring nature.
As Joel returned with the pizza, the evening continued with shared laughter, conversation, and the simple joy of spending time together. The movie Night became a bridge connecting the past and the present, offering a glimpse into the potential for renewed connections.
The living room, adorned with warmth and laughter, and everything between you and Joel felt so natural as if time didn’t pass by.
You didn’t notice, but Tara paid attention to the both of you with a smile on her face. This exact moment was the picture she had always imagined of a happy family. A happy mother, a father who didn’t need to utter words to show the love he felt for the woman beside him, because she saw in Joel’s eyes the way he looked at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky, that man loved you, and she felt at ease.
Tumblr media
“You know, you can stay the night." Joel offered you, once Sarah and Tara fell asleep in Sarah’s room, “You can take my bed and I can take the couch.”
You hesitated for a moment, weighing the implications of Joel's suggestion. It was completely fine for a pair of friends, but you weren’t just that, and you both know that behind all the reconnection, there was addiction to something you couldn’t possess.
"I appreciate the offer, Joel," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. "But I should head to my house.”
“But you don’t deserve to go to a lonely house,” he said, trying to plead with you about the idea of spending a night with you under the same roof. He started to feel a joy inside his gut, all his feelings hidden there.
You could sense concern in Joel’s voice and see the pleading dancing in his eyes, but saying yes to him felt like steeping into fire. You still saw in Joel all the habits he picked up from you, being the pleading eyes one of the things you remembered the most, and now you could understand the implications of what your departure did to him.
His heart broke in two, just like yours.
"I appreciate the concern, Joel, but I don’t think it is fair to you," you said, your voice gentle.
“Please?” He pleaded again, his eyes sparkling so much that you could follow the light on them.
“Okay, I’ll stay.” You gave up; you couldn’t say “no” to him so many times.
You saw his dark brown eyes twinkling as he nodded, smiling at your answer.
"Thank you," Joel whispered, breaking into a small, relieved smile.
You followed him into the familiar surroundings of his home; every step felt like discovering a new way back home. A sense of warmth enveloped you, making you feel protected and comfortable in Joel´s presence.
Once you stepped into his bedroom, you took a seat on his bed, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The familiar scent of Joel was all over the space that you could navigate inside this wall blindfolded, and the comforting presence of him felt like a step back in time.
Joel, sensing something dancing in your eyes, opened his closet and pulled out a set of comfortable clothes. "Here, you can wear these for the night. They should be comfortable enough."
“Oh my god!” you said, looking at the shirt Joel had lent you. “You still have this?” you asked him, in awe.
Joel chuckled, the warmth of shared memories evident in his eyes. "Yeah, I kept it. It's been tucked away in the back, but I figured it might come in handy tonight."
Your fingers traced the fabric of the shirt. "I can't believe you still have it. It feels like a lifetime ago."
He smiled, a nostalgic twinkle in his eyes. "Some things are hard to let go."
For a moment, time between you stopped, and for a moment, you were still able to see the sunlight through his hair in the morning and how he sounded when he laughed. And you hoped you didn’t damage his heart that much.
"Thanks, Joel. It's been a while since I wore something from your closet." The soft fabric of the shirt still carried a subtle scent of Joel that brought back a flood of memories.
He chuckled a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Yeah, it has. Well, I'll let you get some rest. Goodnight, Doe."
Doe
You allowed him to call him Doe this time, pretending he was still yours and you were his.
"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, changing into the borrowed clothes. The fabric held a hint of his familiar scent, adding an extra layer of comfort as you settled beneath the covers. The bedroom door closed, leaving you in the soft embrace of memories as sleep gradually claimed you.
However, the soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the windows as you lay in bed and witnessed your sleeping trouble as you tried to find solace in the familiar surroundings of Joel’s room.
It was different. Sleeping in a bed with the scent of the man whose presence allowed you to sleep wasn’t the same when he wasn’t next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest.
So, as sleep proved elusive, and after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, you decided to go downstairs, hoping Joel was awake.
As you descended the stairs, the hushed sounds of the night filled the house. The soft creaking of the floor under your weight was the only disruption to the silence. When you reached the living room, you saw Joel sitting on the couch, his gaze fixed on an old photo album.
He seemed lost in a sea of memories, unaware of your presence. You stood there for a moment, observing the emotions playing across his face as he traced the images with his fingers, as if he were savoring the past with his fingertips, trying to bring it back.
When he finally noticed you, a small smile curled his lips. "Couldn't you sleep either?
You shook your head, joining him on the couch. "Too many thoughts."
He nodded in understanding, closing the photo album. "I get it."
Back in time, Joel had the advantage of taking your heart when it was still a blank canvas expecting to be painted on. He took it so delicately and caressed it with such care in order to never hurt you. He made you love him so much that once he wasn’t in your life anymore, you didn’t know where to put his love anymore.
It never left.
Joel's gaze remained fixed on the closed photo album in his hands. "Sometimes, I wish we could go back," he admitted, his voice a soft whisper.
You sighed, the ache of longing settling in your chest. “Back when?”
"When we were young and foolish, everything felt so alive."
As you looked at Joel, his eyes held a warmth that transcended the years. "We can't change the past, Joel," you said, your voice gentle. “The past made us what we are now.”
“Yet it cost me to lose you,” he said.
You took a seat beside him on the couch; the distance between you measured not in physical space but in the vast expanse of years and the unspoken words that lingered in the air.
"I lost you too," you replied, your voice a whisper. The weight of the shared regret hung between you, a palpable reminder of the choices that had shaped your lives. "But maybe, in losing each other, we found different paths, different versions of ourselves."
Joel's gaze remained on the photo album, his fingers tracing patterns on the closed cover. "Do you ever wonder about what we could have been?”
"Always," you confessed. "But you don’t lose me at all; I’m here again.”
A small smile played on Joel's lips. His fingers gently cupped your face, his touch a tender exploration of the years that had etched themselves on your skin. His thumb traced the contours of your cheekbones, a soft caress that spoke longing and love.
Leaning in, Joel brought his forehead to rest against yours, the closeness of your proximity stirring memories of when you belonged together. The air between you crackled with unspoken emotions, and inside your chest, you felt your broken heart patching together, with such a burning desire to close the distance between the two of you.
His lips hovered close to yours, a breath away, the pull of history and the magnetic force of shared affection urging him forward. The world outside the quiet living room ceased to exist, and you found yourself caught in the gravitational pull of an unfinished story.
But even when the kiss could rewrite the story, you weren’t a cheater. You heart raced, but your mind stopped doing something stupid and naïve.
Before you could make up your mind completely, Joel pulled back, his eyes searching yours. The unspoken words lingered in the air.
"Does he treat you right?" Joel's words hung in the air, a mix of genuine concern and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
You took a moment, your gaze meeting his, and there was a silent conversation between you two.
"In some ways, he's everything I need. In others, he's a puzzle I'm still figuring out." You answered.
Joel nodded, avoiding your gaze as he felt his heart break all over again for you.
“When I found out I was pregnant,” you began, “Dwight and I were dating. It had been only three months, and couples aren’t parents in such a short time.” You paused for a moment, hoping for Joel to look at you again, and when he did, you continued, “I was scared, but he was so nice to me at that moment, and by the end we were over the moon. At least I was happy I was going to have a baby girl. When Tara was born, we moved in together, and long story short, we got married because it seemed correct at the time.
“And?” Joel asked, trying to figure out when your life becomes different, but he still knew by the way your eyes looked that not everything was as fine as it seemed.
“He was an amazing husband and friend; it almost made me forget about the broken heart I had because of you. But these last four years with him had been complicated,” you continued, a touch of vulnerability in your voice.
“How?”
"Just because he is different from me. It’s like he is plotting for an ending and Tara is noticing, and it felt so humiliating to have your own daughter notice her father doesn’t love her mother.”
Joel's gaze softened for a moment, and before asking a question, he was scared to ask, “And do you love him?”
Your eyes widened at the sudden question, and a moment of hesitation hung in the air. You took a deep breath before answering.
"It's not that simple," you admitted, your voice carrying uncertainty and honesty. "I care about him, but..."
“But what?”
“You know what.” You said it in three simple words, and he understood.
It cost so much to keep love from going wrong, but between you and Joel, there wasn’t a particular ending. The lovers between you both never went wrong; neither expired because you were still hungry for each other's devotion. But now that it seemed like time had become your enemy, you weren’t young enough to break free and run as you could have done it before.
“I love you,” he said. “Never stop doing it.” His voice resonated as someone who spent years and years yearning for the touch of their lover.
“I’m sorry,” you confessed, not avoiding saying the three words back to him; he didn’t need to hear them. He already knew you loved him back as much as he loved you. “For the way I left you,”
Joel's gaze held relief and understanding. He knew somehow you had healed from those wounds. "I don't blame you, Doe. We were young, and life threw challenges at us. I've had my share of regrets too.” He reached out, his hand finding yours, and they still fit together as one. “Now, can we please be friends again?” he pleaded.
You nodded, a faint smile playing on your lips. “Now that you’re back, I couldn’t let you go.”
Joel's eyes sparkled with a newfound light, and he suggested, "How about we watch a movie until you fall asleep?"
You agreed, and together you settled on the couch. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV screen, casting a warm ambiance that seemed to cocoon the two of you in a world of shared moments.
As the movie played, the silence between you held a comfort that transcended words. Joel shifted, creating a makeshift pillow with his arm, and you found a natural spot on his chest. The rise and fall of his breath became a soothing rhythm, lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn't felt in a long time without pills.
Joel looks down at your sleeping figure on his chest, with your hand grasping the gem of his shirt. He was starved by your touch, wanting nothing but to trace patterns on your face as he used to. Your soft expression lines told the story of how the past and present went from here. That there’s no one he could call home, and you could never leave home completely, and how easy it would be to be young again.
And he looked at the ring on your finger, a reminder that you weren’t his anymore, and how easy it was for someone to feel hungry by something that was forbidden. Yet he thought about the ring he still had with him, still waiting to find its way to your finger.
You were the kind of love he couldn't find on someone else's body. Your touch, your lips, and every single inch of your skin were the starvation Joel was deprived of, and now you were his forbidden fruit.
Nevertheless, under the dim light of the TV screen, your face was glowing in a soft golden tone that sent Joel to sleep, but he was holding his dream in his arms for the first time after so long.
Tumblr media
When the morning sun gradually painted Sarah’s room with the soft hues of the warm sun, Sarah and Tara descended the stairs, their steps cautious not to disturb the tranquil air that enveloped the living room.
As they reached the bottom of the staircase, their eyes fell upon you and Joel, still intertwined on the couch, lost in peaceful sleep. Tara's eyes sparkled with genuine happiness at the sight of her mother and Joel holding each other like that.
Sarah couldn't help but notice Tara's radiant smile. "Why are you smiling so big?" she whispered to her.
Tara motioned toward you and Joel, the affectionate way in which you two held each other not escaping her keen gaze. "Look at them,” she said, still smiling.
Sarah raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips.
Tara nodded, her smile unwavering. "This is the first time I have seen my mom at peace.”
Tara’s gaze was still fixed on the pair on the couch. "Maybe Joel can bring that peace back to my mom’s."
Sarah chuckled, giving her friend a playful nudge. "Are you saying we should ship your mom and my dad?"
Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "I'm just saying if they make each other happy, why not?"
Tumblr media
Weekend passed by and Tara asked no questions about why did you fell asleep on Joel’s chest, she clearly knew the answer to that question yet she didn't judge you, since she was a little girl, she noticed each sacrifice you had made for her and how you had distributed all the love you had inside your heart to her.
How bad she wanted for you to be brave enough and get divorced from her father.
So, when Monday arrived, the weight of the tension between you and Joel seemed to shift. The echoes of the weekend lingered in the air. This time, you both look happier, acting as friends, laughing together and sharing time as you kept your role of assistant.
So, before lunch and after you finished with the work Joel had left for you while he was out, you decided to go and buy lunch for him and you to share, after all you would arrive to an empty house since Tara would be still at school and Dwight was in a business trip, you didn't want be left alone with your thoughts in an empty house that seemed to become colder as the day passed by.
You buy a bottle of lemonade, and two burgers with French fries, hoping for Joel to still being number one of them. You weren’t used to come to this part of the city, but this time you stopped in order to bring the burgers and fries you wanted to share with Joel.
However, once you paid, the corner of your eye caught a person you didn't expected to see. There was Dwight, who was supposedly in New York until next weekend, buying food here. You turned away for him not to notice you, then you decided to follow him to see find out what was happening.
So, when you followed him, you stopped a little away and saw him happily taking a little girl around four years old in his arms as he kissed her temple with so much love you never saw him share with Tara, and what was next was a woman around the same age as you joining them with a smile on her face and you heart stopped.
She kissed Dwight on his lips, as both of them looked at the little girl smiling happily in the arms of your husband.
A surge of emotions tightened in your chest as you witnessed the scene unfold before your eyes. The knot of anxiety and confusion grew with each passing moment. The woman with Dwight, the affectionate exchange, and the child—all pieces of a puzzle that didn't fit into the life you thought you knew.
As the trio walked away to the car, laughter and joy enveloping them, you were left standing there, alone with the weight of a shattered reality
You felt humiliated.  There were your answers. The four years of odd behavior, the four years of plotting against you, his sudden trips, his careless attitude towards you.
all the way, Dwight had made you and Tara move to Austin just for him to be closer to his other family, the secret one.
Tumblr media
tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99
@lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick
@sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx
288 notes · View notes
menlove · 5 months ago
Note
any introductory beatles (just mclennon tbh) fics? 🤲
LORD OKAYYYYY i'll try not to go too crazy and just stick to my alltime faves.....
first of all anything @forthlin (milaway on ao3) has written literally ever. i am going to eat them one day. they are the yin to my yang and also the best writer this fandom has ever seeeeen. um. anyway! like i said, all their fics. but i'd Particularly rec your lucky break which is an au where john is a 30 something rockstar and paul is an up and coming musician in the 70s. and well! what can i say about this fic except it's sooo in character, hot, and also the reason i started talking to the best person on this earth so whatever
also completelyyyyy selfish but hey i only wrote half so i'm counting it but we also have an ongoing series: i want you, i need you, i love you where they're writing john's povs and i'm writing paul's! it's just basically our take on their timeline & relationship, but the third installment's going to be a fix-it
now onto me not being gay or selfish here's some of my favorites that i think are Must Reads.
Boy, You've Been A Naughty Girl
explicit. 49k. John makes Paul a bet. Paul takes him up on it. Crossdressing shenanigans and angst ensue, and ~feelings come out in the wash. 1961. rec notes: okay look. this one is just a classic. it's great. esp love it bc it's right up my alley with its "paul isn't an oblivious moron" takes. also.... hot.
I Still Miss Someone/I Know That I Miss You but I Don't Know Where I Stand
explicit. 64k. It's 1976 and Paul keeps showing up on John's doorstep with a guitar. Eventually John turns him away and Paul goes off to sulk in his hotel room the night before his flight from New York. Based on real events. rec notes: aaaaugh this one haunts me there's one scene i think of literally every time "i still miss someone" by johnny cash comes on, which is one of my fave songs. it's not a fix-it, but it's so so so good for the Vibes of their 70s relationship :(
Like Love, The Archers Are Blind
explicit. 22k. He wants to push Stuart out of the way, not even with a violent yank of his collar like he sometimes imagines. Just to melt into his place like butter sliding in a pan. Have it be an effortless breath of fresh air when John looks up at him and sees it all reflected back in his eyes. It’s you. rec notes: this one is just... soft. and so good for a snapshot of the hamburg vibe.
i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc)
mature. 27k. John’s twelve when a bloke appears from a flaming pie and says, “From this day forward you are Beatles with an ‘a.’” The bloke is Paul. Or: paul and john meet at all ages and eras and john is the time-traveler’s wife the way only john lennon can be rec notes: literally my favorite mclennon fic everrrrrr ever ever. other than your lucky break. this is everything. this is it. like it nails their dynamic even though it's a magical au. it explores their relationship sooooo fucking well. i think about it like weekly.
John My Beloved
explicit. 33k. They've always loved each other, in their own way… rec notes: OTHER FAVORITE EVER it broke my heart it changed my fucking lifeeeee it changed my world. major character death warning but fuck man. i think about this literally constantly. this fic haunts me. i think it changed me. i had to stare at a wall for like 30 minutes after finishing it. i got choked up.
two of us (burning matches)
explicit. 6k. It won't stop raining. Paul doesn't know what his feelings are doing. John's practising his right swing. Somewhere along the way, they fuse together. rec notes: this one is just cuuuute and perfect for the Early Days Vibes.
Grow Old With Me
explicit. 8k. fix-it. Paul breaks his arm, and John panics. rec notes: SOOOO FUCKING SWEET. this is what they deserved and i like to live here in my mind when the reality of what actually happened gets to be too much.
1967
mature. 11k. canon-divergent au. In 1961, John Lennon and Paul McCartney left abruptly on a trip to Spain, via France. In 1967, they finally come home to face the consequences. rec notes: the style of this one is INSANE. it's so unique and i love it sososososo much. also the plot? is super unique???? basically it's an au where they never came home from paris and it's.... so fucking good. i love the way it looks at their dynamic like fuck. it's just perfect.
Way Up Top
explicit. 12k. Falling out of the sky, together. | Snapshots of the Beatles in Greece, July 1967 rec notes: LOVE this one for its portrayal of all non-mclennon parties. it fleshes everyone out, especially jane and cyn, in ways a lot of fics just skip. just sooo well written and melancholic in a great way i think.
When You Are Young They Assume You Know Nothing
mature. 26k. But Paul knows John. There’s something about Paris, though... rec notes: THE paris fic to me. this is soooo good and so fucking soft and it just. augh. it killed me.
a brief interruption, a slight malfunction
explicit. 12k. During the rooftop concert, John remembers why he used to find Paul so irresistible after a show. One more time won't hurt, right? rec notes: perfect breakup era fic. my rec notes on ao3 were "this was devastating :)" so. god. this fucked me up.
aaand honorary mentions to the two non-mclennon fics i've read but !
Knocking at Your Door
george/paul. explicit. 6k. It's easy enough, this time, to lean in and touch their lips together. A firm press of his mouth to Paul's; first at the corner, then right on the centre of his yielding, expressive lower lip. Paul and George: a few meetings over thirty-six years. rec notes: the opening sentence to this made me sick to my stomach and then the rest of the fic destroyed me permanently
Where The Sailors Go
ringo/paul. explicit. 5k. A drunken German mistakes Paul, alone in Hamburg's red light district, for a rentboy. Ringo, the Hurricanes' terrifyingly adult drummer, intervenes. Things happen, but Paul can't stop thinking about John. rec notes: PRINGOOOOO. with background mclennon. this was so real to me. also in the same universe as this fic is (It's Just) Another Day which is a transfem paul mclennon fic that rooocked my world. it's still a wip but holy fuck. made me rearrange the way i see paul tbh.
76 notes · View notes
allwaswell16 · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
One Direction fics where a character unexpectedly gets a call from the hospital or must rush to the hospital for another character and end up realizing their feelings as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!
—Louis/Harry—
❤️‍🩹 Own the Scars by @crinkle-eyed-boo
(E, 144k, rehab) Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want.
❤️‍🩹 Consequences by @allwaswell16
(E, 78k, amnesia au) Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up.
❤️‍🩹 Feels Like Coming Home by @phdmama
(E, 60k, angst) The last thing Harry Styles expects when he's hanging out at the Someday Cafe in Somerville one rainy October day is for his ex, Louis Tomlinson to walk through the door, but that's exactly what happens. 
❤️‍🩹 where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou
(M, 31k, omega Louis) the accidental bonding a/b/o fic
❤️‍🩹 devil's waltz by nebuloussubject
(M, 23k, canon) a sickfic with a slow burn
❤️‍🩹  Hypotheticals (series) by tomlinsunshine
(T, 15k, friends to lovers) This whole "running away" thing really isn't going as planned.
❤️‍🩹 Stay by rabbithole28
(M, 12k, exes to lovers) Louis was taken to hospital after a car accident. They called Harry letting him know that his fiance was unconscious and in a serious condition. The only problem was, Harry hadn't seen Louis since he walked out of their flat three years earlier.
❤️‍🩹 Wanna Do Nothing With You by whoknows
(E, 9k, canon) The accident happens in the stupidest way possible. One minute Louis is demonstrating a skateboard trick he’d just learned for Lottie, the next he’s waking up in a hospital.
❤️‍🩹 tides thrash inside by ifthat / @lovehl
(E, 8k, a/b/o) "How could I call you when I needed you as far as possible to sever our spatial bond?”
❤️‍🩹 Tight Grip on Reality by roseslotuslouis / @fandomaws
(G, 8k, angels) Louis is called as Harry’s emergency contact after he gets into an accident and they are thrust back into each others lives
❤️‍🩹 Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13
(E, 4k, exes) It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last.
❤️‍🩹 Twenty Stitches In A Hospital Room by betty_and_i
(NR, 3k, paramedic Harry) H is a paramedic and him and L broke up a few months ago over something stupid which caused them to not talk again. Fastforward L is in a situation that causes someone needing to call the paramedics for him and H is the one to be there at the scene
—Rare Pairs—
❤️‍🩹 We Used To Wait by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships
(E, 56k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis has an accident, but nobody even knows he and Nick are going out.
❤️‍🩹 some velvet morning, years too late by tintedglasses
(T, 35k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis wakes up in the hospital with unfinished business at his bedside. Turns out Nick has some unfinished business, too.
❤️‍🩹 I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed
(M, 9k, Zayn/Liam) He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend
187 notes · View notes
souvenir116 · 2 months ago
Text
Fic Writer Interview 🌸
ty for the tag @13834 ❤️❤️
How many works do you have on ao3?
16 with anonymous works included
What’s your total word count?
295k
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
vanilla carnations, kiss it better, pick a lane, driving under influence, once i pull this trigger off
Do you respond to comments? Why/ why not?
i usually try to buy sometimes i get behind or wait for a day to answer all together after posting a chap then forget 💔 but i usually try to make time because comments always mean so much to me
What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
i don't do angst endings normally but maybe mind break of a character starting to want someone that actually has harmed them before? yeah
What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?
i think it's vanilla carnations there was literally a proposal 😭😭
Do you write crossovers?
no
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
I cant remember each one but this one tops all and we talked about it for a couple days w friends
Tumblr media
then decided it was better this way 😁
Tumblr media
(it was ltrlly just angry sex and Max coming inside Charles before they have to go to the team debrief bcz Charles crashes into Max, kind of deliberately)
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
i can do all unfortunately 😔 omegaverse, rule 63, [redacted] etc... I was birthing fic after fic for kinkmeme once (now i can't even properly write smut 💔)
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
no as far as i know
Have you ever had a fic translated?
ppl asked for permission before but I'm not sure if they eventually finished it!!
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
yes... w my baby @a-amvryllis but we both didnt have time so it kinda dropped out. and tbh I think there are a few people my writing matches exactly as someone who writes so descriptive and meanless poetic words, but we could always meet in the middle!!
What's your all-time favourite ship?
im going to be rlly honest when i say lestappen is my first ship and probably last other than Justin Bieber and me in 2015 💔
What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
idt ill finish that girl Charles fic for the fest... I dont think people liked it also but i decided to use that ending plot in another fic since it would be more fitting lol
What are your writing strengths?
i can write fast when I'm in mood. once i wrote 8k in a day. the words will just flow and ill be so thankful
What are your writing weaknesses?
tbh im not sure? i like my writing and we all have writers block from time to time, but sometimes i wish i had a better vocabulary but also vocab means nothing if you're going to make ppl open dictionaries every 10 word 😭 also paragraph starts. i hate starting them w "charles max max charles a but charles" if you get what i mean so i especially pay attention on it every new paragraph to make the reading easier 😭
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
i always add a () for the english version if I'm going to keep the foreign dialogue just a bit, because come on no one needs to switch between tabs on translate/fic, but if its long, then adding a subtle detail about how they keep the convo in that language and writing in italicized is cool. i also will write dutch and french pet names so randomly. i dont care if it sounds bad for native people im not a native for both 💔
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
f1
What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?
galex. i actually started it but its still a wip with also lestappen and landoscar going on!! so theres no main ship but like.. a sitcom kind of friend group consisting of couples. yup
What's your favourite fic you've written?
because its my first, and i like the scenario so much, brainstorming w many irls, i think its a very good plot- oiptto. alas i had some people telling me the writing is rlly bad which is, cool, it was my first time writing a fic let alone in english. if you ask about writing, even if i wrote vanilla carnations so fast, i think its rlly nice written also @a-amvryllis helped me sooo much about each event and plots (and i do believe it was creative all of them in general) so i would say that.
tagging every author who wants to do that but randomly @a-amvryllis @blueberry-obsessed @bumblewyn @eterniravioli @f1-giuki @fueledbyremembering @lovelylotusf1 @lestappenforever @laura1633 @paint-it-red-and-black @saviour-of-lord in alphabetic order so i won't forget anyone 😭🩷
13 notes · View notes
wangxianficfinder · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Fic Finder
~*~
1. Hi! I hope you can help me find this fic.
Wangxian is married here. Lan zhan was cursed to forget his love to wei ying and wei ying did everything (like studying the curse) to lift it out. I remember in the end, Lwj remember his love to wei ying and apologized to wwx for treating him bad. He felt guilty and resentful to himself but wwx assured him that its fine since he was cursed
NOT FOUND! stuck under the moon by perilously (E, 13k, WangXian, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cursed LWJ, Non-Penetrative Sex, Post-Canon)
FOUND! could be "an effect (without a cause)" by astrobandit, which is deleted from ao3. If this is the fic they are looking for, i have a copy.
NOT FOUND! Blue water by huxiyi (E, 24k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Temporary Amnesia, Case Fic, Curses, Cultivation Sect Politics, Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, References to Depression, Discussion of Grief, Discussion of bodies, Explicit Sexual Content, Dom/sub Undertones, Under-negotiated Kink, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)
NOT FOUND! Unavoidable by diamondbruise (T, 18k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Amnesia, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Falling In Love, Again, Happy Ending)
NOT FOUND! tonight i can write the saddest lines by sarahyyy (G, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Amnesia, Falling In Love, Domestic Fluff)
~*~
2. Can anyone help me find a fic where part of it talks about how if he'd asked, JY would have done WWX's hair for him like she did JC's, but he never asked so he learnt on his own (possibly to avoid YZY's rage?)
FOUND? Always walked a very thin line by tucuxi (T, 22k, NHS & WWX, JYL & WWX, WangXian) It's a small bit that happens when NHS is brushing WWX's hair, and WWX thinks that nobody's done that for a long time
~*~
3. Hello!! I'm looking for a jiang wanyin/lan xichen centric fic where jc is stuck in a time loop??
He repeats his lives 5-6 times and lan xichen remembers all the timelines where he actually already loved jc
But he married meng yao as a friendship marriage in one tl
In another tl jc murdered meng yao and lxc witnesses amd goes into seclusion because of it
combining the lxc/jc + the time loop tags yields only three fics so it should be easy to find the right one (i haven't read any of them so i wasn't sure), and looking for lxc/jc + searching the word 'groundhog' turns up one more fic but it doesn't seem relevant to the ask
NOT FOUND! Incrementally by xxdz (M, 15k, WIP, XiCheng, Time Loop, Horror, Murder Mystery, Inspired by Happy Death Day (Movies), Post-Canon, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Character Death, Character Study)
NOT FOUND! there is no one beside me by h0ngcha (Not Rated, 16k, WIP, XiCheng, Time Loop, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Suicide, Mental Instability, Depression, Mild Gore, Canon Divergence, Suicidal Thoughts, JFM's A+ parenting, Bittersweet Ending)
NOT FOUND! silver bell by willowcatkin (G, 8k, XiCheng, Post-Canon, Time Loop, yunmeng bros reconciliation, Sort Of, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC-centric)
FOUND! Four Out of Five by castieldeansangel (T, 9k, XiCheng, WangXian, XiYao, One-sided ChengQing, Time Travel, 5 Times, Fix-It of Sorts, XiCheng endgame, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC-centric, Butterfly Effect, Dubious Morality, Canon Divergence)
~*~
4. you guys are wonderful! thank you so much for all your help finding fics!!! i have a half itmf/half fic finder question --- any angsty dark lan clan fics that focus on wei ying, but especially one where they break his soul bond(?) with Lan Zhan --- i think i remember one where later on they need WY's help - any suggestions greatly appreciated! (also in an Itmf)
FOUND? Say my name and his in the same breath by ataratah (M, 38k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Rejection, Mutual Pining, Found Family Feels, Temporary Character Death, magical baby aquisition, Angst with a Happy Ending, No Golden Core Transfer, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies)
~*~
5. hello! theres this fic i know i read on ao3 but cant seem to find in my history or bookmarks. i hope it wasnt deleted. its post canon, lan zhan and wei ying go out on a mission but lan zhan gets infected or hit with a curse without them noticing, and starts gradually losing all his senses, starting with hearing, then i think sight, then so on until he cant move or do anything at all and he’s at risk of death. wei ying and lan xichen figure out together how it happened and they save him so lan zhan is completely healed by the end. i believe it was either M or E rated bc there were a couple sex scenes early on but i dont think they were very explicit. i hope you can find this fic, thank you so much!!
FOUND! shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi (E, 24k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Night hunts, Curses, Intimacy, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, They're married and they're in love)
~*~
6. Hi! I read this incredible fic a while back and forgot to bookmark it - it's about WWX losing his memories when he comes back and getting to know LWJ as Mo Xuanyu while he tries to uncover his past?
FOUND? Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX)
~*~
7. Hi! Can you help me find these 2 fics? I tried filtering out but can’t still find it.
A) Modern Au. Wwx left the jiang family and then met Lwj. I remember the two started living together but then as the time passed by, wwx notices that lwj isolating him to outside world. I also remember wwx broke up with lwj but lwj is stubborn keep coming to wwx school. He even threaten wwx about the jiang family so he’ll come back to him.
B) Modern au too I think? I only remember Lwj saw wwx burying a dead body (i think it was wen chao) and assist him on it.
Thank you so much!
7A)
FOUND! It had to be Fate by darkbrokenreaper (E, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Rape/Non-con Elements, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, dark!LWJ)
7B)
NOT FOUND! release me from the present by merlinnn (E, 34k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Explicit Sexual Content, Dark Academia, Also Light Academia, Studying,Lots of it, Implied/Referenced Sexual AssaultV, iolence, Murder, Dead Poets Society, brief homophobic language, body disposal, Mildly Dubious Consent)
FOUND? 🔒 The inherent romanticism of hiding a body together by Aki_no_hikari (T, 4k, WangXian, First Meetings, Love at First Sight, Modern, Corpse Desecration, Corpse Disposal, Pigs, dark Wangxian)
~*~
8. Hello! The fic I am looking for is one where Jiang Cheng somehow erases Wei Wuxian from existence. Jiang Yanli lives as a consequence, but now everyone is subjugated by the Wen, as without WWX the Sunshot Campaign lost. I have only seen this fic in passing and really want to read it but now I can't find it lol. I remember that there was a tag for "Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji / Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian", so I assume at some point they get him back, but I cannot remember any more details other than this. Thank you so much for your help and I hope you have a wonderful day!!! @coffeeshopdragons
FOUND! The Way It Wasn't by KouriArashi (T, 72k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, (eventually haha), Slow Build, Family Feels, Moral Ambiguity, Eventual Happy Ending)
~*~
9. hi ! me again 😅 i was wondering if any of you know the fic where lan wangji forgets about his love for wei wuxian (i think he got cursed?) and is very indifferent towards him. It starts with him forgetting to buy chili oil for wy to him not wanting to spend time together anymore. At one point he asks wwx “why did i marry you?”. I think lwj was conscious the entire time he was cursed and was heartbroken bc he could see how everything he said and did was hurting wy. I knew i read it recently but i cant find it in my history for some reason. thanks so much you guys are amazing <33 @makkachiin
FOUND! Does anyone even read work titles? idk what to call this by Nighttdust (M, 14k, WangXian, Curses, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, though not to much, Both get hurt both get comforted, Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Happy Ending, Protective WWX, Insecurity, a bit only)
~*~
10. Hello! Currently looking for a fic in which LWJ and WWX spent a night together in a tent and there was misunderstanding when LWJ woke up thinking he forced WWX to have papapa-
JC ends up threatening LWJ if WWX ends up preggo then he will not be allowed to see them (I think Wuxian was a carrier??), because JYL then entered the tent right after LWJ left and saw WWX all bruised up (it was hickies) whilst passed out (sleeping only) and assumed LWJ SA her Xianxian. JGY and LXC are also there-
FOUND? The Teapot Plot by ToxicAngel13 (M, 51k, WangXian, Misunderstandings, protective Jiang siblings, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Idiots in Love, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Pre-Burial Mounds, Potential for M-Preg, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort)
~*~
11. Hi, I'm looking for a fic where wei ying starts out in the modern world as a doctor who has fallen on hard times and can't practice as one anymore because of previous mistakes. He dies in a lab explosion and gets sent to the canon-time cultivation world, where everyone believes he's an evil megalomaniac. Lan zhan realizes that wei ying isn't evil and takes him back to cloud recesses, where wei ying learns cultivation - there is some smutty dual cultivation involved, then comes happy every after. @annie-booksforfood
FOUND? Transverse by Kytrin, Mslead (E, 192k, WangXian, ChengSang, ZhuiLing, ZhenYi, Dimension Travel, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Enemies to Lovers, Transmigration, Past Lives, Canon-Typical Death, Don't worry - he gets better)
~*~
12. Hiya! I saw on this post for Medium Blues over on WangxianFicRecs that there's a short sequel to the fic, but I haven't been able to find it anywhere. I looooove the fic so much and would really like to read the sequel, so I'm wondering if anyone happens to have more info or a copy? Thank you! @gentil-minou (the author may have deleted the sequel because medium blues had been deleted before - Mod C)
Oooh I do remember that a medium blues sequel was begun but I think only a chapter or so was posted?
~*~
13. Hey, can you please help me find a series?
It's about a-Yuan, and he could see ghosts/spirits. He could see WWX, he drew Madam Lan, and he spoke about YZY to JC when he was in Lotus Pier and called her violet spider. @utxqia
FOUND! 🧡 Lan Sizhui Sees Dead People Series by darkbrokenreaper (T, 30k, WIP, WangXian, LWJ & LSZ, JC & LSZ, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Kid Fic, Hurt/Comfort, lsz sees dead people, Paranormal)
~*~
14. Hello, this for the “Find a Specific Fic” tag. I’ve been looking for fic staring a older Lan Wangji who gets sent back to the cloud recess ark, and meets his younger self who becomes jealous. The younger Lan Wangji is jealous because Wei Ying is no longer pestering him anymore, opting to instead follow the older Lan Wangji who spoils him. Hopefully this helps, and thank you for your hard work. Sincerely, Bianca. @biancabaryonx
FOUND? vinegar jug by dandelion_san (G, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Humor, Awkward Crush, Jealousy)
~*~
15. Hello, I'm trying to find a fic where both Mo Xuanyu and Wei Wuxian get cursed. All I can remember is that Lan Wangji ends up in the woods and WWX helps him getting out, but when he tries to thank him WWX disappears. LWJ then finds the Jiangs and inquires about him but they can't actually remember him: they only remember they had a brother once (I think?). Hope this makes enough sense and thanks in advance
NOT FOUND! Second Summer by Anonymous (M, 142k, WIP, WangXian, canon, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Mystery, Amnesia, Memory Loss, Curses, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, somebody lives/somebody else dies, Golden Core Reveal, canon-typical lack of lube)
FOUND? never been away so long by sundiscus (G, 905, WangXian, Modern AU, Pre-Relationship, First Meetings, Ambiguous/Open Ending, (but a happy ending in the endnotes!), Ghosts, crossposted from Twitter)
~*~
16. needing y'all's help again i cant remember the fic where wwx agreed to transfer(??) or visit or help a school/workplace bc he gets to use a mass spectrometer. i can't remember the plot, just that tidbit T_T thank you so much
NOT FOUND! The Best Gift by Lan_Wangjoe (E, 45k, WangXian, Modern AU, Mistaken Identity,Miscommunication, Romantic Fluff, Family Fluff, Family Dynamics, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Nice LQR, Fake Science, Science Husbands, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adopted Children, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Marriage, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Himbo LXC, Everyone Is Alive, Good Parents JFM and YZY, Genius WWX) it doesn’t have a spectrometer as such, but I think it might be this one?
FOUND! 🧡 CSI: Gusu Edition Series by Stratisphyre (M, 39k, WangXian, WWX & LQR, Modern with Magic AU, College AU, Golden Core Reveal, Single parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Hospitalization, Allusions to violence and murder) the first fic in csi gusu has the mass spectrometer :>
~*~
17. I'm back, like any other wangxian addict, for more ficfinding expertise!
A) always a girl WY is emperor LXC's concubine, who he shares with LWJ. Of course the 2 are in love and when LXC starts to tire of her and politics get in the way, they stage a withdrawal/escape and live happily ever after far away from the emperor in the south?
B) CR study arc, where LQR gives WWX the same advanced tests he gives LWJ. After, NHS complains about how his cheatsheet tips didn't make sense and that's how WWX found out about the harder test. @mreisse
17A)
FOUND! Red Lotus Blooming at Sunset by janewritesstuff (Jane_de_Plaine) (E, 18k, WangXian, XiXian, Jadecest, Implied Others/LXC, Royalty, Historical, Female WWX, Concubine WWX, Harem, Threesome - F/M/M, Porn With Plot, Consensual Infidelity, Voyeurism, Angst with a Happy Ending, extended tags in author's note, Dark LXC)
17B)
FOUND! Just Say Yes series by edenwolfie (M, 338k, wangxian, canon divergence, matchmaking, pining, cloud recesses study arc, getting together, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, everyone lives au)
~*~
18. Hi hello, I'm struggling to find this wangxian ao3 I'm hoping that it was not deleted. I don't really remember much but wei ying didn't die but got save from falling of a the cliff and when he gain consciousness he can't remember his name that's why the one who saved him gave him another identity and his been living that identity for years. On wangji side, this is still part of the story he raises lan yuan by himself, actually no one died in this fic jiang yanli is still alive
FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian's Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts) WWX awakens in chapter 16 and his new name is Gengxin.
~*~
19. Hello! Good day! I hope you can help me find this fic. I don’t know if it is a time-travel fic or not. All I can remember is that Madam Yu got pregnant and the sect leader, jiang yanli, jiang cheng, and wwx were happy. But eventually they learned that madam yu cheated (i forgot if its a wen or not) so the baby is actually not sect leader jiang’s child. I think they learned this after the masscre of lotus pier when madam yu ranaway.
FOUND? 💖 A Chance by CorkaHadesa (M, 86k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Sunshot Campaign, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Canon Divergence, Established WangXian, Married WangXian, Secret Marriage, OOC, Second Chances, YLLZ WWX, Homophobic Language, but only from YZY so it's not that important because she's a bad person, i don't agree with her words, Minor Character Death, Happy Ending, Mpreg, Not Everyone Dies AU, the dead ones are the bad ones)
~*~
20. Hi. I'm looking for a fic that I was pretty sure was luckmoonly's and was in the many lan babies series but now I am worried about my brain because it's not there and the traces of it are gone, to the point I think I hallucinated that fic. But if I remember the title was "The fault in my core" and WWX was supposed to get his core removed but they found a core baby near it so they didn't continue the operation. Pls tell me I was just looking at the wrong place with my f-ed up memory 🥹 and the fic is somwhere out there and I was just too stupid to find it. Thank u in advance! ❤️
FOUND! The fic was deleted. All your informations (name, author etc.) were correct. I have a copy, if you want one. - @bluekittenfire
~*~
121 notes · View notes
echoedcrosshairs · 2 years ago
Text
Those Who Fight Together - part 7
Tumblr media
Summary: Undescribed Jedi female nicknamed Reaper in 3rd person is rescued from being Dooku’s apprentice and needs to blow some steam with an old love 🖤Smut with a Plot🖤
Warning: NSFW, Crude Language, Killing, PiV, Oral (both), alcohol, emotional turmoil
Word Count: 8k (I’m sorry 😣)
Part 6 Part 7.5 Part 8
Masterlist
If you want the angst of 6.5, let me know and I’ll finish writing it
The boys left early, something about needing to clean the shop leaving you alone with the two people who were closes to you. Although after one two many drinks, you could definitely see Wolffe's guard lower and his eyes stayed locked on you for the rest of the night. Even if your dress you still went toe to toe with the boys whether it was who could take the hardest punch or who could lift the heaviest thing. You felt free and content here with just being here with them, except when Wolffe tried to stand up that the night was over when he fell back into his seat laughing.
"I've missed this," you said putting one arm around him helping him up.
"I've missed you."
"I missed you too," a sad smile broke out, "and you," you said to Cody as he grabbed Wolffe's other side.
"You should be with us, fighting and having fun."
"You don't need me anymore, but I will never be far."
"General... he's looking a little Green," Cody said noticing the expression on Wolffe's face, "I'll be right back," he said carefully stepping away to get a bag.
"I'm fine, just realized what I said."
"Don't worry about it, doubt you'll remember it," you laughed try to defuse the tension.
"I love you," he said knowing this was probably one of the last chances he got to say it.
"I got him if you wanna go check on your men," Cody volunteered, pretending to not hear what what he just said.
"I'll see around Cody, haze him later for me," you jested pulling your arm away.
You said goodnight, leaving them to get back to the barracks. The alcohol rummaged around in your system, making you feel a little light headed. Maker, what is that stuff you groaned, never again. You found the boys sitting at the table, each of them silent but stern looking at each other.
"Can this wait til morning?," you said trying to put off whatever was coming.
"You should have stayed there with them," Crosshair said looking at you, his blood was ice, "You don't belong here," he said standing up, his legs wobbling a little bit but he put himself in front of you, "Tech doesn't want and neither do I. I will... never love you," he said bumping his shoulder into yours, hoping the comment was enough to keep Tech out of your wraith.
Tech fiddled with his googles, chest tightening but followed after his brother who barely made it out the door before slumping against the wall. Tech felt empty, noticing the double meaning of what his brother had said, the sacrifice he made for him, his chest tighten even further barely being able to breath.
"Anyone else?" Ask trying to keep the breaking out of your voice, no one spoke, "I'm going to sleep in a hotel tonight."
When you got to your room you grabbed the med patches and placed them on your neck. Fumbling out of your dress you opted for your robes, stashing your sabers and grabbing a handful of credits before stumbling your way out of the ship.
"I'll go with you," Hunter offered waiting by the door.
"I want to be alone."
He gave you a nod seeing the pain in your eyes, "be safe."
"Where's the fun in that" you answered sourly.
The walk to the nearest cheapest hotel was sobering. You wanted nothing more then to rip the skin off your spine and regretting. I am the Collector, good nor bad, my duty is protect knowledge. And that is it.
"What happens now?" Echo asked looking to Hunter.
"We'll wait for her to come home."
"She's not coming back," Hunter heard Crosshair said from the other room.
"She'll come back when she's ready," Hunter affirmed looking between Echo and Wrecker who stared at her empty room.
"Why did you have say that Crosshair, you know it's not true" Wrecker asked knowing his brother could hear them.
There was no reply just silence. Echo blamed himself he should have stayed with her or tried to talk Crosshair out of it. Why I didn't try to go after her? Echo loosened his jaw when his teeth began to hurt, he looked at Hunter who was also trying to hide what he felt but Wrecker didn't bother to try.
"I'm going to be in her room right," Echo let out heading towards the room, Hunter caught his wrist with an eyebrow raised, "I don't know how the rest of you feel, I love her and I don't know if she's coming back," he said staring at the floor but it was enough of an answer that Hunter let him go.
Hunter understood how he was feeling all to well.  Hollow, wondering if they just ruined the best thing that had ever happened to them. Why didn't he tell her. Hunter left Wrecker standing there and headed towards his hammock to think. He noticed Crosshair laying in his staring at the ceiling emptied of any emotion and that Tech was gone.
"Don't know, don't care," Crosshair said before Hunter could ask, rolling over to face the wall.
Hunter felt a speeder move in the distance, he knew who it was. He turned and left, knowing his brother was probably going to something stupid to distract himself. Wrecker was still disoriented about what had happened and trying to make sense of it, he never got to say how to felt because out of all them he apparently seemed to be the gentlemen.
"I'll be back in a while, keep anyone else from leaving," He told Wrecker who was sitting by the ramp.
"Tech?"
"Yeah.."
It didn't take Hunter long to find him even on Coruscant with the thousands of machinery. Tech was still sitting on the bike overlooking a busy speed way race. Hunter noticed the emotions playing out on his face, he pulled up next to him and sat. An inner war sieged in Tech between his heart and his brain, he did the most logical thing to be able to protect his brothers but his heart called it a betrayal. He pressed his fingers to the bride of his nose and his leg bounced but he remained silent, waiting for the war to quiet.
"So, why couldn't you tell her yourself?" Hunter said disrupting his train of thought
"I didn't want to see the look on her face," Tech said bluntly, "Did I ruin it for everyone else?"
"I don't know where she is to ask her, so I can't tell you. I think it would have been better coming from you. Crosshair... crossed a line."
"Crosshair has always been-"
"That doesn't make it any better."
"What do you think I should do given the situation?"
"I'd start by finding her and telling her what's going on in your head so she at least knows why."
"And if I can't find her?"
"Hope your songs cross again," Hunter said starting his bike and headed back towards the ship, "Regrets are hard to live with, I hope she comes back so I can fix mine."
Tech followed him back to the ship and his equipment. He made a sludge worthy cup of caff, it was disgusting but he downed it. He could feel Hunters smile behind him when he walked passed. Tech sighed to himself with the amount of camera footage he would have to hack into and comb through but he did find her ... and he watched her leave the hotel and heads towards the ship yard knowing it was about to be to late.
The squad rushed getting out and arrived to where Tech had last traced her location. They look to found a ship lot. They found Wolffe and Cody already there. They walked towards them and then they heard it.
Echo looked up, to see a ship with a scythe crossed with a yellow saber spray painted on a ship entering the air, "Found her."
"Where's she goin?" Wrecker asked confused.
"Far away from us," Crosshair scowled.
"Do you know where?" Hunter asked looking at Cody and Wolffe.
"Right like I'd tell any of you," Wolffe said side eyeing them.
"She's going to meet with Count Dooku to see about bargaining to get her Master's saber back," Cody said, shock hitting them all at once.
"Like Sith's hell," Echo said turning and trying to go after her before Cody threw his arm around his neck to stop him.
"Should be really be going alone?" Wrecker asked.
"She wanted too. With how mad she is, I wouldn't worry," Cody said holding him a little tighter against his struggle, "Honestly, I really wouldn't want to be the next person who pisses her off."
"I agree that she shouldn't have gone alone but you shouldn't have told them. I was already wrong trusting them. I'll go after with her," Wolf said growling.
"We'll bring her home, Wolffe" Hunter said looking up watching the ship make the jump, "this is our fault, let us fix it."
"Why would I trust you because you lot are the reason she left alone?"
Hunter pulled out the one of her two sabers, she didn't take with her hoping it was answer enough.
"I love her," Echo deflated, Cody let go of him.
"Fine, but I'll bring her home." Wolffe gritted out, annoyed.
"How do you know where to find her? Given that ship was most likely recently acquired given the crudeness of the paint job, there most likely isn't a tracker on it due to it being recently acquired."
"Wouldn't you like to know," Wolffe glared at him.
"It's been well documented that both the Jedi and the Sith can create connections through the force, allowing two Force individuals to bridge their minds together allowing the transfer of memory, location, visual stimulation and emotions across the galaxy. Although I don't see how that is possible because you are neither and a clone," Tech stated, "So I am also curious about this."
Wolffe smiled remembering the fond memories of silent communication they had when fighting and the secret but obviously transmissions, "I think right now she rather have me tracking her down then either of you," he stared at Tech and Crosshair.
"She definitely loves you more then any of us," Crosshair scoffed.
Wolffe got in his face staring into his icy demeanor without fear, matching it with his own, "I thought she did too until last night and then I found out last night she was at some sleazy hotel alone. I hope she does love me more because at least I would have gone after her"
"Isn't that calling the quacta calling the stifling slimy, you just let her go too" Crosshair said taking the tooth pick out of his mouth with a smirk.
"It shouldn’t take her long. I was wrong to ever let her in the first place," Wolffe said pointedly and turning, "Plus would you know of love anyway?" he paused to give him a sideways glance, "the only thing you seem to be capable of feeling is rage and lust. She's the best woman I've ever had, down for anything and that wasn’t even enough for you" he added chuckling starting to walk away.
"We'll bring her home, Wolffe."
"You won't like it if I have too," Wolffe said with Cody tailing him, Hunter could hear them taking about a diplomatic search and rescue convoy.
"Hunter, mounting our own search would directly impede the speed of any future orders thus interfering with our task and our mental focus during said task?" Tech pondered out loud.
"We are loyal to each other, first, and she is one of us."
"You misunderstand, I'm an not implying that we don't go after her but I'm asking how do we get her back."
Crosshair shoved him, "We can't go after her, our loyalty is to each other and to the Republic not some rogue consorting with the enemy."
Tech looked at Echo seeing what he understood to be betrayal and confliction, Hunter's jaw was set tight noting the truth to the statement and Wrecker was sad and Crosshair was nothing but rage. All Tech felt was guilty, he knew letting Crosshair 'be the bad guy' was the wrong thing to do and he wished desperately that he could go back and change it but knew he couldn't. He blamed himself for letting it happen and then it getting so out of hand. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment letting his mind clear.
"I have to, this was my mistake."
Crosshair growled grabbing Tech by the armor, "Dank Farrik... I looked her in the eye told her how I felt while ripping her heart out not once but twice," Crosshair composed himself pulling away, "She's better off with the regs. We're bad luck."
Your dress robes trailed behind you, it made your skin prickle with unease, it wasn't very battle appropriate but you were here as delegation and had to work as such. It made your stomach twist being inside the walls of Castle Serenno, while good nor bad you didn't often deal with those who practice the darker arts. The droids open the door to a luxurious room with Count Dooku sitting at a short table plastered in food and finery, the service droid moved to pull out your chair so you could sit.
"How are you enjoying my hospitality?" Count Dooku asked breaking the silence first.
"It is an absolute marvel, Count."
"Rumors have spread saying that the Tome sent their best Collector for these negotiations," he said raising an eyebrow while he took a drink.
"A rank of formality-"
"A rank you yearned mercilessly cutting down those who stood in your way-"
"Only when diplomacy failed but an intelligent man such as yourself already has his eyes set on his feasible price or he wouldn't have agreed to this delegation so we don't have to worry about that."
"Indeed I do," Count Dooku said studying you, a slow cat like smile spread across his face, "You must be my apprentice for a time, that is all I ask for your masters saber in return but while in my employ you must use the saber's provided," he said flickering the droid over with the box, using the force to push it towards you.
The wooden box was lined with red satin, laid two near perfect replicas of your saber design except with a mild curve in the end like the Count's. They had an energy all their own, bold and daring. You picked them up, clicking them to ignite and one started as a faint red but faded to your usual yellow and the other was bright red, intellect and rage.
"Am I to assume you accept the proposal? And it will be Master, we can train a little later today."
"I do accept on the terms however I will not terminate someone I care for while in your services, if you find this acceptable, Master."
I am the Collector, Good nor Bad, you mentally repeated to yourself, This is a task I must preform to keep the secrets of the old ways out of the hands of anyone who would use them for harm. There was a different type of power in the red saber that was in your hand it was like nothing you've ever felt before, it was intriguing.
If you like chapter 6.5 about being Dooku's Apprentice, please leave a comment -> it will hurt
You stood besides Dooku talking plans about building a garrison of droids here as a strategic move because of the planet's location to everything. The door flung open and five men walked in, guns drawn. They started at the finery of Sith regalia you were dressed in, the red leather top and side slit red satin pants but with you regular belt accenting your curves and the two new ignited sabers in your hand in a defensive stance. Their faces riddled with disgust seeing you at Count Dooku's side, protecting him. You watched as Echo's jaw fell but closed it immediately. You turned them off and returned them to your hips, placing your hands behind your back.
"I can not harm them, but I can however keep them distracted while you leave, Master."
"The infamous Squad 99?" He asked
"Yes."
"The pleasure is mine" giving a small bow, "but I have other matters to attend too, keep them busy. The box with the saber will be on their ship. Until we meet again, Apprentice," he smiled followed by a small procession of droids leaving you the rest of the small convoy.
You could feel their eyes bore into you, "Either you turn those to stun if you aim at me or I will actually use force," you declared.
"Give the order, Hunter. She is the enemy," Crosshair said with his finger on the trigger waiting to blast, lowered by still aiming at your feet and you saw the blaster was in fact not on stun.
Your hand twitched for your saber, something was different about him, the bags under his eyes darker and he felt... colder. Hunter stared at you, how you stood a little more taller, stronger and bolder, wondering if Crosshair was right all along.
"Cody said to trust her," Wrecker said.
"General?" The droids asked turning to look at you.
"I trust her," Hunter confirmed, they all aimed at the droids instead besides Crosshair; his trigger finger twitching.
"You tin cans are so dead," you laughed at the droids, "good luck."
You turned to walk out and let the boys take care of the droids. As you did you heard blaster fire coming your way without thinking your hand slipped to the red saber and reflected it back. Your heart dropped when you saw Crosshair duck out of the way.
"He's mine to deal with," you shouted the orders at the droids.
"Roger Roger" they moved out the way, shooting at the rest of the squad instead.
He fired again, "So Crosshair not only did you rip out my heart, you've decided to go against your sergeant and against me," you hissed, more of 'her' Dooku made coming out, "You can kill me here or die. The choice is yours, put the blaster down and walk away or we fight and the force decides," your hand going to your other saber letting its yellow light illuminate the ground.
"I've never been one for following orders," he said rapidly shooting shooting.
Tech watched the exchange, watching you easily deflect the shots methodically stepping closer to him knowing what was about to happen if he didn’t intervene. He shot the closes droids out of his way, jump rolling towards Crosshair stunning him before it could go any further but not before one of his own blast was reflected and grazed him next to his neck.
"CROSSHAIR!" Hunter yelled ripping his Vibro Knife into the head of a droid.
Echo watched stunned as you stood over Crosshair, holding the red saber over his unconscious body, noticing the tiny tremble in your hand with a single tear escaping down your cheek. He watched your hand moved closer becoming just a couple inches away from his heart.
"Cover me!" Hunter yelled slinging his blaster back and barreling towards you.
Hunter's hand cover yours pleading, allowing Tech to slap a patch on the wound "You don't need to do this."
"It would be peaceful" your tone emotionless still staring down at him, your heart ripping again that one of the men you love just tried to kill you.
Hunter clicked the saber off carefully waiting to see if you'd strike. His heart was racing, he didn't know if this was his Reaper that stood infront of him or his enemy. He looked to see that all of the droids were dead before taking his helmet off.
"You left us," his voice showing his defeat.
"YOU never responded to my transmissions... you never came for me. Do you realize the things I've had to do to get this saber back? That YOU could have prevented" You exclaimed getting more and more angry.
"Sorry it took so long, I figured they would have gotten you by now," Wolffe glared at them walking in with Cody and what looked like a full battalion behind them battling the droid forces outside with both Master Plo and Obi on their heels.
"Good thing we brought some back up. Your doing?" Cody smiled, pointing towards outside.
“Perhaps the sharing of information could have been beneficial,” Tech said with Wolffe glaring.
“It’s not hard to figure out that her nick name is the frequency, quite the coincidence that their the same length,” Wolffe growled watching Tech blink and type in the numbers and stare at all of messages.
"Better late than never I suppose," you said removing your hand from Hunter's, "What's the situation?" You asked voidly.
"Them, General Plo and I will head to the front to assist while General Kenobi and Commander Cody escort you and the memory crystal, which we already retrieved, back to Zetabed."
"General Kenobi, do you think you could go in my stead? I wouldn't mind cleaning up some of my mess"
"Unfortunately due to how valuable the asset is I've been tasked with escorting it Zetabed and the incident on Mithril with the beheading of Master Zallo. However It would be a shame to let such an opportunity pass for you practice your combat skills."
"You did what you had too, in war there are sacrifices that have to be done for the greater good. I am glad you and the information is safe," Master Plo added.
The sound of blaster fire somehow relaxing you, it almost turned into music. Cody noticed the familiar demeanor and the glint of battle twinkling in your eyes. He gave Wolffe a knowing look which got an eye roll and a smirk. They pressed the seal on their helmets because they knew it was going to be a race to the front lines. You bowed to the Masters, running out the door with your boys and the squad behind you ready for a fight but that was stopped quick when you got outside to see one of the pack was standing there with a crate, you opened it to find your armor.
"Don't mind if I do," you smiled undressing, slipping into your blacks and equipping the armor.
"Warning, karking hell," Cody said staring upwards.
“Wooza,” you heard Wrecker say probably staring at the new tattoo that covered the sides of your thighs and trailed around your torso stopping under your breast.
"Oh come on, it's not like you haven't walked in on worse," your eyes were drawn to the saber you left in your room on the marauder at the bottom of the box, it felt like a distant memory in a life forgotten.
You held it pressing it against your forehead, greeting it like an old friend before returning it to the box and took the matching saber off your belt and also placed it in the box questionably opting for the new ones. It wasn't the time to feel the pain of last holding both of those. You slung your blaster holsters back on, kissing the beautiful matching blaster set before putting them in the holsters.
"To those who fought," you said.
"To those who won," Cody added.
"To those who lost," Wolf repeated.
"To those who became the spirit of battle; eternal glory-"
"May your name be forever sung-" Hunter cut in.
"In the eternal song of those of Mandalore," Tech finished fiddling with his goggles, realizing the deep sentiment of the children's war chant and wondered who she was mourning.
"To War?" She said smiling at Wolffe.
"With you? Always, these tinnies don’t stand a chance” Wolffe watched the newfound skills, graceful and disastrous. The yellow blade dancing tirelessly deflecting and red blade mowed down clankers with controlled arch's and simple wrist flips that caused the blade to completely spin. Wolffe and Cody quick to catch up.
"It seems she's picked them," Crosshair groaned finally sitting up.
"She's been with Count Dooku for almost two months, she’s probably trying feel something familiar again-" Echo tried to defend pulling Crosshair up.
"Given she is using the red saber, even though hers were available and with the regs, don't defend her. The person you loved is gone, move on," he said cracking his stiff neck and pulled off the red soaked patch. He grabbed his rifle, "Orders?" He asked Hunter.
"Commander Cody has ordered us to the front lines so let's go," he said charging after her, hoping Crosshair was wrong.
"Let’s shred them," you smiled knowing the metal carnage that was about to ensue.
"Alright boys, the General's sick of looking at all this metal. Let’s put on a show," he teased into his coms.
It took about three seconds before you heard the 'Woof' come from the pack, several troopers switching to tossing bombs letting metal pieces flying in the air. It made your blood and heart race. You danced a few steps with a twirl but not stopping your hands it was a perfect symphony of destruction.
"You know I've thought a lot settling down recently," you purred deflecting a shot aimed at Wolffe, "on a battlefield," you laughed, finding a small shred of normalcy.
"I think you should look up!" Wolffe laughed.
You looked up to see a seppie ship burning, "He should be just about done. Gregor, how is operation Present going?"
"You are free to hand over the Present!" He called over the com.
Wolffe tossed you a red little button from a pocket, "Happy Birthday."
"Oh my maker, I've always wanted one of these!" You said wiping a theatrical tear, "Best birthday present ever!" you said pushing the bottom. You watched the burning ship lit up explosions happening everywhere. The ship was eventually going to crash somewhere on the planet... but given how many bombs were going off there wasn't going to much left to worry about when it entered the atmosphere.
"She's perfect!" Wrecker hollered.
"To bad who you knew is gone," Crosshair said taking his anger out on the droids. She's not her anymore. She killed a Jedi. She's not Reaper anymore, "Agh" he slipped out rapidly firing at droids each hitting their mark.
Echo watched her, Cody and Wolffe, "There so... in sync," he mumbled.
"They fight like we do. Together," Tech observed.
"She's with who she belongs with. Let it go!" Crosshair called.
"Enough." Hunter ended.
"It's not like you loved her, either Hunter."
"Enough!"
Crosshair rolled his eyes, it tore him apart but the sooner she was gone the sooner they could move on. Echo watched in pain the distance that she put between them, wondering if she even cared that they were there. Hunter's throat went dry, he never voiced that he loves she didn't know she's uses the force so shouldn't she feel it? Wrecker was jealous, unabashedly jealous switching to taking droids out with his fist. Tech was happy that she was alive but it still didn't fix the hole in his chest because they found her on accident.
You stopped Cody and Wolffe, two bounty hunters appeared in front of you. You rested one hand on your hip letting it stick out a little with the yellow saber still ignited and the other pointed at the ground.
"Aren't you handsome," you said to the taller hunter, "and you.. well the things I would do to you," you said to the hunk of muscles that was obviously the main hunters partner, "so how much is the bounty? And who?"
"A couple thousand credits to bring you alive to your Masters old apprentice, now make it easy on us."
"Ventress," Wolffe sneered.
"Shame, I would have loved to take you boys home with me but I don't associate with people who take orders from her," You raised the hand with the red saber, the rage and anger boiling up as the power you wielded rose the two men into the air, a cynical smiling spreading while it suffocated them "Where ever are my manners," you said stepping forward to let your finger trail down their cheeks, "I am Death, and I will be the last person you see."
Their eyes were locked on you as their necks snapped and they went limp and you dropped them, "If she's going to send bounty hunters after me at least give me a challenge or come after me herself, how sloppy" you scoffed stepping over their bodies, finally on the front lines.
"I told you she's gone," Crosshair said still shooting.
"Reaper..." Cody said looking at the carnage and how easy it was
"What? It was quick."
"It was still harsh."
"War is ugly, get use to it," you said rushing forward, your sabers dragging behind as you pushed into the front lines.
You jumped your way through several groups of troopers using clankers as stepping stones towards the approaching modified destroyer droids you helped design with an amazing fatal flaw. Their heads.
"What the HELL, was that?" Echo yelled.
"I don't know," Hunter said looking down at the two dead bounty hunters.
"They were no longer useful?" Tech interjected with dry humor.
"She's became who Dooku wanted ," Wolffe said also looking down the two men.
"And I hope she's still in there.." Echo said looking back up.
You jumped down in herd of droids, spinning slicing through them like a small precise tornado. It was almost a single person dance.
"Looks like your having fun!" Cody said once he caught up.
"I'm finally starting to feel like some version of me."
"You are always you, but how in balance you want to be is up to you!" He said taking out the droid he noticed sneaking up.
You stared down at the red saber, it’s power "You're right," you clipped the red saber back on your belt, until you got your anger under control it was to much of a temptation.
"Welcome back" you heard the smile in Cody's voice.
"Thanks Commander!"
Knowing you were one saber short he backed your flank. Wolffe looked relieved when he caught up and saw the red gone. Thank the Maker he thought.
"We've been ordered to head back and let the boys and rest handle what little is left."
"Maybe she isn't as gone as you thought she was," Tech noticing the change in her fighting style and the bright red light was no where in sight as they made their way to them. He heard them say to join them "this is going to be fun," Tech muttered.
"So what trouble do you think you'll be in?" Cody asked once they got to where the ships were.
"None, any offense is pardoned already."
"Dutchess Death," you heard the transdoshan say coming out of the shadow with a grin.
"Finally a bounty hunter worth my time, how are you Slicer, you handsome lizard."
"Not here for-s a bounty, just here to say good-s luck but I will be seeing you soon and-s Count Dooku offers you one more present," he hissed, tossing a small bag at you before melting back into the shadows.
"Who the hell was that?" Wolffe asked lowering his blaster.
"Part of my mess," you opened the bag, inside was a small long range communicator with an ear piece and a data key and placed in your belt pocket.
Obi and Plo arrived with the squad behind them, "Impressive fighting," Obi said breaking the ice.
"Count Dooku may be a monster but he does know how to weld a blade, I do not like the man but I can appreciate talent when I see it," you peaked to see if the look on there faces changed but it didn't.
Wolffe tucked his helmet under his arm and so did Cody, “I think you should talk to Gregor when we get back," Wolffe said.
"At the end of the day, with whatever decisions you have to make you have to be able to live with them. Remember what I said earlier," Cody added.
"Thank you-"
"We are making a slight detour before heading back because I obviously forgot it was your birthday, perhaps a quick banquet?" Obi offered.
"Maybe just a stop at 79's for a shot? It’s already been an exciting day.”
"Very well then," Obi smiled, "We'll meet you there."
He took commander Cody and the rest of the his assault force in the ships and took off, you tried following Wolffe and Plo but got told to be with squad 99. They were still waiting you entered the ship without a word heading straight to your room, the masters saber and your other two were on the freshly made bed. The ship was eerily silent, there was an occasional footstep going past the door but no one entered. You sat on the floor and crossed your legs trying to mediate. Count Dooku taught you about using the strength of your rage and anger to fight but the other things you had to do haunted you. He was smart, wise and cunning but also one of the most cut throat and merciless person you've ever met and that’s what everyone saw you be. Duty comes first no matter what. You couldn't get yourself to focus and leaned your head against the mattress.
"Fark," you mumbled, your heading spinning.
A small quiet tap came from the other side of the door that you almost hit it besides the anxiety you could feel from the other side of the door.
"What is it?" You called your hands on your sabers quietly unclipping them.
"It's me," you heard Echo's voice, before he opened the door.
"Enter," you said flatly putting your saber back.
"Worried about Crosshair trying something?" He asked looking down the movement of my hands closing the door behind him.
"Any of you really," you admitted.
“Everyone is out there trying to figure out what to say-”
“If there wasn’t anything left to say when I left, there isn’t anything left to say now.”
“I still lo-“
“Don’t, I don’t need your pity. I just want to be alone,” harshness lathering across the words.
“Come home, please,” he felt like he was suffocating, “No matter what you did, your one of us. Remember that,” he left taking just a few steps away from the door before sliding down the wall sitting on the ground, he wasn’t an often an emotional man, but several cascaded out in silence. He knew everyone heard the exchange and no one had a word to say
“Where’s home?” Hunter heard you whisper.
Tech read each message, each one worse then the last. The plans for each attack that was carried out, ways to stop it and found the part where she left like she was no longer herself wondering if there was still a place for her in the galaxy and he stopped breathing. He didn’t realize the grip his hand on the datapad until it broke. He started breathing again, his leg shaking.
“You can stay here or have a drink. I don’t care,” you said as soon as you landed on Coruscant and the ramp was lowered.
“Apathy won’t help you heal-“
“It’s not apathy- it’s emptiness.”
“The generals got summoned for a briefing so your stuck with us until we leave,” Cody said once you arrived, getting you out of your head.
“I’ll drink ANYTHING except what ever we had last time,” Wolffe said remembering his own rules that he broke and the amount of sick he was after.
“I’ll take ten of whatever we had last time, I obviously didn’t have enough of it,” you laughed, it was short but not humorous and they noticed.
You sat at the bar for once, “strongest you got,” he started at you, usually the life of the party but saw the hollowed husky in your eyes.
“For you? A glass,” he said pouring the vile stuff into a medium glass.
“You can tell?” You asked.
“Everyone can.”
You looked at the liquid chugging half of it, making a gagging sound remembering how disgusting and how disgustingly strong it was. Cody started at you, worried, not a single joke or shamelessly flirting with some random brother or picking a fight.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I made the same mistake of giving them the benefit of the doubt. I should have-“ Wolffe started.
“There’s a lot of things we should have done but now, it’s how we should move forward,” Cody the wise asked.
“I’m not sure there’s a forward for me,” you said taking another drink, “I wonder if it’s time to hang them up and retire somewhere.”
“Retire?” Wolffe asked.
“You should see my pardon list for this mission and then ask me that.”
“Reaper,” Wolffe said reaching out putting his hand on hour shoulder, “I did, I know you would never do such horrible things without cause, whatever was on that memory crystal was far to important.”
“Doesn’t make me feel better. Although that minor genocide charge was completely unfounded, that one plant ate children. If anything that was a public service,” the humor was dry but they still laughed which let you genuinely smile.
“I’m just glad your home.”
“What is up with everyone and that word home. No where is home,” you said starting to get mad finishing your drink, “I don’t need a home, I need three basic things, drinking, fighting and fucking.”
“Two out three isn’t bad,” Cody took a drink knowing where this was going, “Us clones don’t really have a home either, the closes thing we have is Kamino. We go ship to ship, place to place, battlefield to battlefield. Home is just as easily a feeling of being where you belong not just a place.”
“I definitely don’t have that either,” you said finishing the drink, “anymore,” your face puckered.
Cody got called over by a group a guys, he didn’t want to leave you alone but Wolffe gave him a little nod to go and figured this was about to be a personal moment with an idea about where it was going to go.
Wolffe scooted a little closer and put his hand on your leg, “You’ll always have a home with the 104th waiting and with me. I shouldn’t have let you go.”
“I learned a lot and I guess that’s what is eating at me.”
“It’s how you use what you learned that is important,” he said telling him no to another drink, “Well… you had two of the three things you need? I think we have time for the third.”
You stared at him the seriousness in the offer, “If I recall you didn’t want to cross that line again.”
“I shouldn’t have done a lot of things, but I can’t undo them but I can be at peace with them and try to fix what I did wrong,” he said staring at you waiting for a response.
“What did that datapad ever do to you?” Hunter laughed looking at it sputter on the floor, then the expression on Tech’s face, “You read the transmissions didn’t you?”
“Astute observation,” Tech gridded out with an eye roll picking up the datapad and putting in his bag grabbing another one switching over the luckily viable memory board.
“Tech-“
“Hunter, now is not the time. There is nothing I can do to fix what I did nor undo what happened because of it even though could have been prevented. Due to my clouded judgement, finding those should have been obvious. Crosshair might be right, maybe she should stay with them because I can’t focus on obvious.”
“You know why you can’t focus, the regret and guilt you try to hide. Do you really want to feel like this forever?” Hunter asked, hoping once again Tech would make the right decision.
You watch Wolffe whisper something in Cody’s ear receiving something between a scowl and a smirk, “Alright, alright. I’ll cover, go.”
It had been forever since Wolffe wrapped his fingers around yours, getting a couple howls from the boys watching. “Get it Commander,” both of you laughed, He smirked as you both walked he kept looking down your hand in his. That home is what home is, he wanted to say but not ruin it.
“What’s on your mind?” You asked feeling his busy thoughts.
“Trying to remember the last time,” he admitted.
“How about you focus on this time?” You winked pulling him into the hotel room you booked for the next two hours.
You kissed him, pulled back to look at him to see if their was any regret this time and there wasn’t. He pulled you back in, quickly peeling off your armor like a day hadn’t go by since he last did it and you took to undoing his. Your hands traced his blacks, feeling the crisp cut muscle underneath your heart pounding loud enough that your ears hurt.
“Are you sure?” You whispered barely able to hear yourself
“Yes.”
You stripped yourself of the blacks and he did the same, kissing you towards the bed. You tried push him down to be on top but he didn’t budge until you laid down. He kissed up your leg starting at the ankle stopping at the inner thigh and switched to the other one.
“Wolffe,” you let out as his mouth got closer to where you wanted it.
“Don’t rush me,” he mused, kissing up both of your hip bones, “or I’ll go slower,” he said kissing back down his mouth finding you.
“Oh… Maker” you moaned, his mouth remember the perfect spot.
A shiver shot down your body at being touched, you felt a drop of you suddenly leak out just for him to lap it up letting his tongue push against your entrance before going to stop. His tongue circling you with a slight pulse, your hands grabbed his hair no longer be to hear the moans over the sensation of him.
The pain in Wolffe’s cock was almost unbearable, it was trying to slowly pump itself into the bed to make the ache stop he locked himself tight to get it to stop. He’d almost forgotten what your arousal did to him, the taste of it causing a frenzy. He stroked the spot harder with his tongue watching your hips tremble as you about to come on his face. Wolffe didn’t miss a single drop that poured out the entrance he desperately wanted, letting his tongue explore the part it could reach enjoying your amazing taste. He pulled his tongue out and kissed your pretty pulsating clit. You looked down to see him grinning but you were barely conscious, the sensation had to be stronger then the ecstasy of spice.
“Aw, are you tapping out already,” he said moving up to see the pleasure across your face.
“Wolffe… put it in me right now, please,” you begged, head still reeling.
He couldn’t control himself anymore, every inch of his being screaming out to obey. He almost came right there in you, feeling your cushioned soaked walls grab ahold of him. “Maker you feel so good,” he moaned gently starting to stroke his cock with your pussy. You let your legs spread a little wider hoping he would get the idea and he did.
He rolled his hips faster into you. It felt like a fever dream that he was going to wake up from any second and you would be back with them, with him never getting a chance to say or show how he felt. He used that spite to go faster as he heard every plea escape your lips for him. Every stroke your walls tighten on him little by little trying to coax the orgasm out of him.
You moved your legs, locking his ankles down with yours, adjusting your hips so they would be more in line with him. He let out a groan so disgustingly hot that you knew it would be on your mind for the rest of the day. His strokes unintentionally matching the panting of your breaths for him. Every nerve in your body was on fire feeling the tip of his dick rub into the clot of nerves with his long but fast strokes. Your core tighten and your fingers dug into his muscular back, your heart physically feeling like it was shaking as your body wound tight getting ready to release. He growled as the tidal wave took you, causing you to clench around him and milked him into coming with with you.
“Crink,” his voice hoarse and the rest of his body still shuttering, he switched from being on his hands to his elbows resting his head on your chest trying to not squish you until the shaking stopped.
He pulled out of you careful, another moan escaping at the sensation and laid down gasping. Your hand down his held tight, your ears burning and grey spotting your visions. Wolffe was dizzy, his head reeling from the sensation but he managed to smile that the sensation hadn’t change meaning the connection between both of you was still there. He looked down to see a little cum coming out, “Still?” Before he could wipe it up your hand let go of his and swiped it up with your finger and stuck in your mouth, a moan escaping both of you.
“How about you put that cock in mouth so
I don’t miss a drop?”
“Maker,” he moaned putting his legs on side of you and pointy his still hard dick towards your mouth.
Your head still burned but you moved your head to where he could pump the load that was waiting to come out down your throat. It took a little coaxing to get him to start going but it didn’t take long to get the message. You wrapped your arm under his leg to play with his choobies to keep them from smack into your chin.
Wolffe’s knuckles were turning white from his tightly he was grabbing the head board as he used your mouth for his pleasure. He made the mistake of looking down, your lips wrapped down him, a little bit of saliva running out, and the desperation in your eyes for him to come. He exploded in the back of your throat mid thrust, your name spilling from his lips. You swallowed every dropped of the his warm creamy delicious cum. He stayed there until his felt cock finally start going soft before he rocked himself back on his heels feeling like his heart was going to give out. He notice arms still shaking clenching the head board, dropping them and they started tingling.
You both were gasping, but you removed your arm letting him collapse next to you. Even gasping both of your breaths falling into sync. It was silent but your mind was finally silent except for one gnawing thought. What or who were they doing in their free time tonight and for the last two months.
His hand once again slipped into yours, “Definitely a shower before we go,” he said kissing your neck deciding he still had a couple more left in him.
Tech listened to everything his eyes squeezed shut, he probably looked like a degenerate standing outside an occupied room but it felt like a stab in the heart it that froze him in place and almost made him bang on the door to get it to quit but noticed it finally went silent. He understood they left one of there own behind for two months and it was the deepest betrayal of everything they stood for but they never stopped looking or trying. Did it have to be with him? He quelled the anger rising, letting out one harsh breath. He was the most logical choice, it obviously had to be him. Admitting three little words when he saw her again could have prevented all of this because what he feared already happened anyway. He opened his eyes and left her to enjoy herself for the time being, she needed this and Wolffe probably as much as Tech probably needed her right now.
61 notes · View notes
5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 29 days ago
Text
Light Angst (2) Masterlist
part one
Back In high school (we used to take it slow) (ao3) - heart_is_gonna_flatline michael/luke, calum/ashton N/R, 13k
Summary: Luke starts a new job as an English teacher in a high school, he meets Michael, the music teacher, and they start a musical project together. (Of course they fall in love along the way)
Band-Aid @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) ot4 E, 7k
Summary: Calum is having a bad day and wants to feel loved.
between all the gasping, i finally breathe (ao3) - bellawritess michael/luke T, 8k
Summary: Sick probably more accurately describes how Luke is going to feel after four in the morning at the beach in the middle of September. If it were anyone else, that would deter him. In fact, that would be his excuse. Love to go, but I'm afraid I'll catch cold.
But it's not anyone else. It's Michael. And the thing with Michael that Luke learned a long time ago is that you have to carve out moments with him and clench them in your fist or you'll find yourself fading from his life.
'cause im always tugging at your sleeve (ao3) - inanearlieround michael/luke G, 2k
Summary: Michael tries not to overthink.
domestic bliss (ao3) - sunshineash luke/ashton T, 8k
Summary: 5 times ashton irwin kicks luke hemmings out to sleep and 1 time he lets him stay
Fell In Love With a Boy at the Rock Show (ao3) - warmstableplace michael/calum, michael/ofc, luke/ashton M, 4k
Summary: Michael impulsively buys tickets to an emo festival in Las Vegas to meet up with a girl he's been talking to on Discord, but has no idea how he's gonna get there. Luckily, Calum has a car...
he was sunshine (i was midnight rain) - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 5k
Summary: Luke and Ashton are roommates, which sounds perfectly fine, but Ashton is the biggest grump according to Luke. At least, only during the Christmas holidays. Luke makes it his mission to get Ashton to like Christmas by the end of the month.
i'm better than him (just saying) - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) michael/luke T, 3k
Summary: Luke's boyfriend is a total loser, and all of his friends keep telling him. Especially Michael, who's been in love with Luke for as long as he can remember. Michael's always there for Luke whenever his boyfriend treats him like garbage. But after a disastrous date, everything goes downhill, and Luke realizes that maybe Michael has been right this whole time.
in pieces (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum T, 4k
Summary: He needs to leave. Go somewhere, change the scenery. He doesn’t want to, because he’s a goddamn mess who shouldn’t be let loose in public. If anyone saw him in this state he’d dissolve, but he can’t stomach even trying to pretend he feels normal right now either. Paste on a pleasant smile and make polite small talk? He’d rather peel his fingernails off one at a time.
laser tag (ao3) - inanearlieround michael/luke N/R, 1k
Summary: Luke takes Michael somewhere else after an interview trying to figure out how to break through to him.
making the most of the night (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum E, 28k
Summary: “Cal! Have you met Luke?” Ashton has one arm around a tall blonde guy wearing a sheepish smile and a barely buttoned shirt, and he wraps his other around Calum, pulling him in close. “You should talk. You’ve got a lot in common. Shit exes, for example.”
Calum looks over this Luke person he apparently has a lot in common with, and he does seem a little familiar. Maybe Calum has met him before. But that doesn’t seem right either, because he thinks he’d remember meeting someone so…bright. Noticeable. Luke doesn’t exactly blend into a crowd. Calum’s not certain, though — he could’ve met Luke while he was super drunk or super tired or super distracted by his ex-boyfriend.
“Sure, yeah,” Calum agrees, dodging the question. “Luke, would you like to spend a fun evening talking about our shit exes and feeling sad about it?”
never one for winter (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum M, 20k
Summary: “Hey Cal, it’s Luke. Uh, so I’m actually coming home for Christmas. Kind of a last minute thing. I’m literally on a plane, about to take off but, um — are you gonna be around tonight? I thought maybe I could stop by. Let me know, and I’ll figure it out when I land.”
As soon as the plane lands, Luke flips off airplane mode and waits, shaking from the suspense, the stress, the everything that has been his life over the past few hours.
There’s a text from Calum. 
Calum: i’m around. And i’ve got tequila.
New - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton E, 10k
Summary: Luke doesn’t remember whose idea it was to chain him to the fucking ceiling but he’s decided he’s going to get their name and send them a goddamn fruit basket, because he has never seen Ashton look at him like this before, and he has that crew member to thank.
planted in my mind (ao3) - burstintocolor (anchormate) michael/luke T, 1k
Summary: Michael has had a stressful day of work. Luke wants to help.
or, boys are dumb and don't realise theyre already in love
slut me out (or keep me forever) (ao3) - riibread luke/ashton M, 4k
Summary: Ashton decides dating is not for him, enter Luke with a steel chair
the skies falling down (end of the world) @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 4k
Summary: Luke is severely hurt, and Ashton is desperate to find something to heal his best friend. He’s on the brink of giving up when he meets Michael and Calum, who happen to be from a community that has medical supplies.
ups and downs @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) ot4 T, 8k
Summary: Ashton finds out he's pregnant in the middle of 5 Seconds Of Summer's North America tour. Telling his three boyfriends the news doesn't go as smoothly as he hoped it would.
what a ghostly scene @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 4k
Summary: Michael, Luke and Ashton are paranormal investigators. They hunt ghosts for a living. There’s a house Michael has wanted to investigate ever since he was a little boy. Finally, the owner gives them permission to investigate it. Unfortunately, not everything goes to plan.
2 notes · View notes
h1myname1sv · 1 year ago
Text
FIC UPDATE: Side by Side 8/14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: character injury Fandoms: Star Wars, Clone Wars Relationships: Commander Cody & Obi-Wan, Commander Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: Commander Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi Additional Tags: Whumptober, Whumptober 2023, Whump, Angst, Tragedy, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt Commander Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Commander Cody Needs a Hug, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Protective Commander Cody, Developing Relationship, Bittersweet Ending, POV Alternating, Idiots in Love, War, Not a Fix-It, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt, I love these two so much ahhh, which of course means I'm gonna hurt them Wordcount: 8k Summary:
Glimpses of pain within and pain shared between a general and a commander during a war that never seems to end. (Based on the Whumptober 2023 prompts on tumblr.)
Excerpt:
Cody takes in a breath that ends up more like a gasp. "General, Obi-Wan—"
"What is it?" Obi-Wan asks with a vague sense of urgency.
Cody clasps Obi-Wan's shoulder and says, almost in a rush, "Don't go where I can't follow."
Obi-Wan doesn't completely understand. Cody sees it in the shape of his shoulders, the furrow of his brows, the glint in his eyes. He doesn't understand, and Cody wants him to understand, wants this with a sudden desperation that he hadn't had before.
He no longer feels like he's floating away from his body. He suddenly feels oh so very human and vulnerable and mortal, and it hurts. On Kamino, they had been clones, soldiers, objects, property. Nobody ever told him how much being human hurts. Nobody ever told him that it hurts more so when you've irreversibly intertwined your life with someone else's in such a way that you can't see yourself anywhere that is not by their side.
(He thinks, maybe, that Obi-Wan leaving him would break him.)
4 notes · View notes
danceswithdarkspawn · 2 years ago
Note
Hey, Dances! Coming in hot!
1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)
(I really wanna know so I can start reading your stuff, your excerpt yesterday really enticed me!)
10. How do you decide what to write?
16. What’s an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)?
33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read?
Don't wanna give you too much, so these four should be good! Nice running through your inbox, Dances!
Oh boy, so I have a few different things. Currently, a couple of longfics that are written from different characters and POVs (one in 1st, another in 3rd limited). A lot of my works tend to tiptoe around angst and might be heavy reads. If you want the lightest possible smack with the angst bat, Two of Swords or A Small Victory would probably be best. If you wanna go full-tilt on the angst bat with some idiot slow-burning forever, Broken Bird. This is the first-person POV fic that I'm writing. 10. If we're talking about creating new things, I don't generally get ideas I want to write all that often, or if I do, they go in my notes folder. From there, if I have the time, I pick something that's enticing or that I've been itching to read myself (or just wont leave me the hell alone) and go from there. As to deciding which of my ongoing projects to work on, it honestly depends on the headspace I'm in. I prioritize my longfics over any shorter pieces because I want to finish those. Ultimately, I decide based on what I feel like writing at that moment. 16. I once read an AU in which the events that started Dragon Age: Inquisition (i.e. the Conclave blowing up) never happened. While the fic itself didn't delve too far into that aspect and instead explored something else, I think it sets up a lot of "well what now?" types of scenarios. I'd also be incredibly interested in an AU in which one or more characters comes back from the dead, basically, but they come back...wrong somehow, and can't or won't articulate that to people around them. 33. My written chapter lengths have been anywhere from 2.7k to 8k, but generally I try to hit between 4-5k. Generally speaking, I prefer to read the same length (4-5k), however, if I'm enjoying the story enough, I will read almost any length. I just might need a break depending on the length.
3 notes · View notes
buddierecs · 5 months ago
Text
jealous!eddie diaz buddie fics
all mature rating!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
eddie diaz vs the pta agenda by: mmtion "really, eddie doesn’t care that the pta aren’t his biggest fan. he knows he misses too many meetings, and it’s not like he’s best friends with any of the other parents. it doesn’t affect christopher, so it doesn’t bother him. he’ll pay for the annual fundraising mugs and consider his duty done. but then buck picks christopher up from a class trip and it all goes to hell. like, of course buck is everyone’s dream guy. he’s responsible with kids, and kind, and funny and interesting and hot to touch. that’s obvious. but now eddie’s fighting to keep the pta moms, teachers, and dads, all off an unsuspecting and tempting buck. because eddie is a good friend. right?" word count: 19k important tags: idiots in love, oblivious!eddie diaz ripples all the way down by: iriswests "christopher partakes in some parent trapping" word count: 57k important tags: jealous!evan buckley, slow burn, miscommunication, happy ending a thousand ways to say i hate you by: morganofthefairies "five times eddie buys taylor fuck-you flowers, and one time he doesn't need to" word count: 8k important tags: 5+1 things, petty!eddie diaz, double dates, eddie/ana, buck/taylor, ana flores bashing, pining, ableism let me roll it to you by: woodchoc_magnum "in which eddie starts dating ana and buck starts dating around; eddie does not cope that well with change, buck is oblivious and everyone else thinks they're a pair of idiots." word count: 22k important tags: idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, humor, worried firefam i'm not the guy you're taking home by: woodchoc_magnum "in which buck discovers the wonders of bisexuality and eddie spends the entire fic pining for him in a big bad way." word count: 63k important tags: pining, oblivious!evan buckley, friends with benefits, team as family, coming out, angst, getting together did you know that my dreams, they're all the same by: sourwolfseblaine "tk visits los angeles to forget about his break up with carlos, buck needs to forget about his painful (what he thinks is unrequited) feelings for eddie. buck thought him and tk becoming rebound buddies would solve their problem, at least for one night, but it only makes it more complicated for him." word count: 7k important tags: 911 lone star, rebounds, pining, first kiss, love confessions, getting together, light angst this is josh, what's your emergency? by: eightpackdiaz "josh knew eddie was into buck way before eddie realised it himself" word count: 6.2k important tags: eddie & josh friendship, gay disaster!eddie diaz, getting together, feelings realisation, kissing eddie diaz vs garfield the cat by: sonayesul "buck brings home a cat one day and he and christopher love her. however, eddie doesn't and swears the cat is trying to steal buck from him." word count: 4k important tags: established relationship, crack, fluff, mild hurt/comfort, domestic fluff traded by: princessfbi "eddie wasn't trying to go viral. he just wanted to trade his jersey. but then something called booktok got involved." word count: 23k important tags: hocky au, bartender!eddie diaz, hockey player!evan buckley, social media, protective!eddie diaz, possessive!eddie diaz, mutual pining, getting together in my heart i wanted more by: woodchoc_magnum "set post-season 5, Episode 4 and 5 - in which buck and taylor's relationship is slowly crumbling, eddie has some big realisations about his sexuality, and true feelings are revealed." word count: 47k important tags: faling in love, getting together, team as family, mutual pining, protective!eddie diaz, panic attacks, first kiss let me fix it for you by: smilingbuckley "5 times eddie fixes or builds something for buck + 1 time buck thanks him for it (... sort of)" word count: 10k important tags: 5+1 things, getting together, eventual smut, mutual pining, fluff, idiots in love
164 notes · View notes