#but he's been with us since he was 8 weeks old and seen me through so much shit

[aibidil]

Oh, friends. I'm sitting here with my dog dying on my lap. Send us some love and strength?

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter v

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 14k+

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, mean relatives, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, denial, self-deprecating in some areas etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, there is one scene depicting some physical violence (tame) , finally some fluff!, and I won't spoil any more

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: OMG....ignore the fact that this is releasing a month after ch. 4. 🫠 i'm sorry. On the bright side, I'm VERY excited to share this with you AND this actually isn’t the last chapter. There’s one more after! I hope you enjoy 🥰 ALSO, this is GP!Taehyung in this chapter (....😮‍💨)

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"This can't be right," you mutter to yourself for the umpteenth time, eyes heavily fixated on your laptop screen. You've been scrolling through the latest press releases all morning, a cup of tea growing cold beside you.

Ever since Jimin’s text last week, rumors about your ex-husband stepping down from his position at JeonX practically spread like wildfire, with nearly every journalist adding their individual spin on the matter—some suggest personal issues, while others hint at possible disagreements within the company.

Despite the influx of information, however, it all remains too vague and inconclusive. An official statement from the company directly would help clear up speculations, but it’s been crickets. Their silence only makes you consider the validity of the rumors even more.

Why would they make such a critical leadership change right after their newest product launch though?

This question, among others, continuously swirl in the back of your mind and you find the entire predicament ironic. You used to be one of the first to know the ins and outs of the company, easily able to distinguish the truth. Now, you're left in the dark like everyone else, dependent on the media for answers.

Before your eyes have time to skim the next group of articles on your screen, your phone rings.

It's Taehyung.

“Hey,” you answer casually, momentarily forgetting the significance of the call.

“Morning!” His voice is gravelly yet carries a cheerful tone. He seems quite upbeat for a foggy Saturday at 8 a.m. “Are you still okay to carpool to my parents' place today? Tan and I are on our way over.”

Dammit. Of course, this isn’t just any old Saturday—it’s the day of Taehyung’s family gathering. It had slipped your mind that you asked to ride together a few days prior. Given that it would be a five-hour long commute, driving separately seemed less convenient and enjoyable. Besides, you’d miss out on having Tan on your lap, his head poking out of the passenger-side window.

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “I’ll be ready when you get here.”

“Great! See you soon.” Taehyung hangs up, and you put your phone down with a deep breath.

To be blunt, you're still extremely nervous about the affair. Surely his family knows who you are and has seen their fair share of articles about you. So how will they react when you show up next to Taehyung at their family function? He says they’ll like you, but it's hard to accept.

Nonetheless, you know how important this family gathering is to him and how much he wants you to be there. Not only is it a family event, but it’s also a celebration of his recovery from a motorcycle accident that could’ve been much worse.

As you pour your cold cup of tea down the sink, you try to push away the unsettling mix of thoughts, focusing instead on the next task at hand— how you should dress. Prior conversations with Taehyung advise you that something polished would be ideal for the occasion, as his family appreciates a touch of elegance, yet your mind blanks on a tangible option. Surely, there’s something in the back of your closet that would do the trick. Right?

Well…you’re right-ish.

Upon searching through rows of hangers, arms growing tired, you finally find a somewhat suitable sundress. You’re hoping it won’t look too casual, but you don’t seem to have a better alternative with your closet currently overtaken by work clothes.

Wasting no further time, you quickly slip the dress over your head and observe how it fits in the mirror. Not bad, you think, before deciding on a few complimentary jewelry pieces. The saving grace of this choice of clothing is that it can easily be dolled up, which is exactly what’s needed today.

Soon, you hear the muffling of an engine and when you peek through your bedroom window, you’re unsurprised to see Taehyung’s car pull into the driveway with a very excited Tan poking his head out from the backseat. A small smile forms on your lips at the sight.

Sparing one final look in the mirror, you slide into your shoes, toss your bag over a shoulder, and head outside to meet them.

“Hey!” Per usual, you're met with a warm smile as you hop into Taehyung's car but before you can return the greeting, Tan bounds onto your lap, tail wagging eagerly. “God, I’m so sorry about him,” Taehyung reaches for his dog, but you quickly reassure him it’s alright.

“I’m happy to see you too, Tan,” you laugh, petting him affectionately. Your focus then shifts over to Taehyung, "Thanks for coming to get me."

“Of course,” he replies, smile widening as he watches Tan settle into your lap. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me," he continues, pulling away from the curb. "My parents are looking forward to meeting you.”

You nod, trying to calm your fluttering nerves. “I’m looking forward to meeting them too.” This time, when you glance his way, you take in his attire—a crisp white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and black dress pants. It’s a classic look, yet it seems oddly refreshing on him. It's not like you expected Taehyung to look bad or anything; far from it, but did he always have to look this good? A queasy feeling soon settles in the pit of your stomach...maybe you should have worn something else.

Before you're able to fully turn away from him, Taehyung speaks up. “You look really nice today,” he says softly, eyes lingering over your face and down your body before shyly refocusing on the road. “That dress is beautiful on you—it really suits you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply with a shy smile of your own, unexpectant of his comment. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Something about the subtle exchange of compliments stirs a bundle of nerves in both of you and even with averted eyes, neither of you finds it entirely unpleasant.

The rest of the drive is long, but luckily, soon fills with lighthearted conversation and laughter. It's become easier and easier to be around Taehyung, you think.

After more than a few bathroom breaks—mostly due to Tan’s persistent whining—you finally catch sight of Taehyung’s parent’s house.

It’s even more picturesque than you imagined, with its charming architecture and well-tended garden. In the distance, the ocean glimmers, tying the scene perfectly together.

“I meant to mention earlier, but my parents have an oceanfront view,” Taehyung says casually, pulling up to the house. “We can go down there later if you’d like. It’s private access.”

“Really?” You glance over at him with anticipation, your excitement clear. You can already taste the saltiness of the water. “If it’s really okay, I’d love that.”

“It’s more than okay,” he assures with a smile. “In fact, it’s a done deal. The best time to go is in the evening. We can even use the excuse that we need to take Tan for a little stroll if necessary. Family bonding can get a bit overwhelming without a few breaks.” He lets out a chuckle but stops when he notices your slightly demure expression.

“Hey,” he turns to you with gentle eyes. “Everything okay?”

You blink, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve gone to any kind of family affair. They know I’m coming, right?”

Understanding your apprehension, Taehyung shifts the gear into park and places a light hand on your arm. “Absolutely, and please believe me when I say they’re more than ready and excited to meet you. They’ve asked about you so many times—I’m pretty sure I’ve lost count. I’m really happy you’re here with me too, so I hope you don’t feel like you’re intruding because I promise you’re not at all. And if at any point you need a moment to yourself, take it. I want you to feel as comfortable as possible, and I’m confident my family will want the same.”

With his hand on your arm, you find yourself wrapping yourself in the comfort of the gesture, nerves slowly easing in the process. “Thanks, Tae,” you reply, feeling a tad lighter than before.

“Are you ready?”

You nod, signaling him to remove his hand to take the key out of the ignition. As his hand leaves your arm however, you feel a subtle, unexpected shift—wishing the warmth of his touch could linger just a moment longer.

But hold up.

Since when did he affect you like this?

Dwelling on it further proves to be futile because before you can blink, the house’s front door swings wide open, revealing an older, petite woman with a kind and inviting smile. You both step out of the car immediately, Tan happily trotting around the yard confidently.

The woman pulls Taehyung into a big hug once close enough, and it’s all the evidence you need to deduce that she must be his mother.

“We were wondering where you were!” she starts. “Everyone’s here except you.” It’s a light scold, not that Taehyung minds from the giant grin spreading across his face.

“Forgive me, Mom. I guess we’re fashionably late,” he replies.

Mrs. Kim looks up and down her son with adoration, hands still gripping his arms. “Look at you,” she coos, as if proud. “My son is so handsome. I’m so happy to see you here, healthy and well.”

“Mom, this is __.”

Her eyes then shift to you, standing somewhat awkwardly beside them. If possible, her warm expression brightens even more, taking you by surprise.

“My goodness, I’m being so rude," she says, stepping toward you. "It’s wonderful to finally meet you, honey. Are you okay with hugs?”

“Sure.” You offer a sincere smile and embrace her. When you do, you feel a sense of peacefulness that you hadn’t ever before, soothing any lingering tension. You can’t help but assume that many of Taehyung’s qualities must come from her.

“I’m so pleased that my son brought you today,” she says, pulling back from the hug. She takes in your clothing as well. “You're absolutely lovely, my dear. Doesn't this color work wonderfully on her?” She glances at Taehyung, who merely nods in agreement.

“You’re the one who looks beautiful, Mrs. Kim,” you return the compliment, feeling a tad embarrassed by all the praise. “I love your earrings by the way. Are they jade?”

She nods, pleasantly. “Thank you for noticing. They’re indeed jade. My husband gifted them to me for our anniversary last year. I told him he didn’t need to get me anything, but that man is so persistent. Speaking of which, you should come inside and meet him.” She turns around at once and ushers you and Taehyung into the house. He allows you to go first.

As you follow Mrs. Kim up the steps, Tan bounds ahead excitedly. The aroma of delicious food fills the air the further you walk, and soon you’re greeted by a cozy, homey atmosphere.

Finally, you find Taehyung’s father in the kitchen, washing his hands at the sink. “Honey, Taehyung’s here and he brought __ with him.” Upon hearing your name, the man quickly dries his hands on a towel and extends a friendly hand your way, eyes twinkling.

“Hello, __! I’m glad you could come today. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It’s gorgeous in here.”

“Well, we have our son to thank.” He directs his attention to Taehyung, reaching out and patting his son on the back with a proud smile. “He bought this house for us after all. He’s a good son.”

What?

You glance at Taehyung in surprise, intrigued to learn more about this new bit of information. However, seemingly flustered by the comment, you decide it’s better to save it for another time. His mother is quick to step in.

“Taehyung, dear, why don’t you show __ around and introduce her to everyone?” she suggests smoothly. “They’re all in the living room. We’ll gather everyone to have lunch soon.”

Taehyung nods at the suggestion and begins leading you through the house, until you reach the living room at the end of the hall. The room is even larger than you anticipated upon entering, its high ceilings finished with a delicate glass chandelier. A grand piano sits in the far corner as well where a number of children huddle together, each taking turns playing a few notes.

One by one, Taehyung starts introducing you to his relatives and despite your initial apprehension, each person you meet greets you with nothing but warmth and kindness. Not even a single person shows discomfort towards you or makes a dig into your personal life (though you’re certain they’re well aware of who you are). It’s no wonder Taehyung boasts about his family so often—they truly are a close-knit and respectable group of people.

At least, that’s what you think until Taehyung asks, “Where's Auntie and Uncle? I haven’t seen them yet.”

One of Taehyung’s cousins looks a bit hesitant before replying, “Oh, Tae, I’m sorry, but we haven’t heard anything from them so they might not be coming today. Maybe they had last-minute plans. It’s a bit of a shame, really.”

An odd silence settles over the room at this, conversations lower in volume, and a few knowing glances are exchanged among relatives. The abrupt shift seems to throw a wrench into your previous statement of closeness since, evidently, the absence of Taehyung’s aunt and uncle casts a dark shadow over the cheerful gathering.

Sensing an awkward lull, Taehyung tries to lighten the mood with a bright smile. “Well, I’m sure we’ll still have a great time. I’m just happy to see everyone here.” He gently redirects the conversation to something more upbeat, attempting to remedy the unusual tension.

Just then, a small figure bursts into the room, capturing everyone’s attention.

A little girl, no more than six or seven years old, runs straight toward Taehyung with arms outstretched. “Taetae!” she shouts, using the affectionate nickname as she latches herself around his legs.

Taehyung's face breaks into possibly the happiest grin you’ve seen in response as he kneels to lift her up effortlessly, holding her close as she giggles. “Hey, sweetheart! I missed you!” His voice is filled with affection, though there’s a hint of shock as well.

Eagerly, the little girl secures her arms around his neck. “I missed you too! Mommy and Daddy said we might not be able to come, but here we are!”

“Well, I'm so glad! Have you been a good girl for your parents?” he asks with a playful tone.

The little girl nods vigorously. “Yes! I’ve been helping Mommy with so much lately.”

“Good job!” Taehyung says, giving her a high five.

You’re unsure exactly how the two relate, but the longer you watch the interaction unfold, the more evident it becomes that Taehyung’s a natural at connecting with children. His playful demeanor and patience make it clear that he has a special way with them. It’s heartwarming to see, quite honestly.

“Taetae, who’s she?” the little girl asks suddenly, her big, curious eyes setting on you.

Taehyung smiles and gestures for you to come closer. “This is __. She’s my friend.” He looks at you and adds, “This is my little cousin Eun-ha. We’re quite close.”

“Hi, Eun-ha,” you greet with a soft smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t return your greeting, but rather leans into Taehyung’s ear and whispers something you can’t quite hear.

Taehyung chuckles softly, though it does little to conceal your curiosity. “No, Eun-ha,” he says, shaking his head. “We don’t kiss like in my movies. But yes, she's very pretty.”

Though you wish otherwise, your surprise is barely hidden as you process the revelation.

“Why not?” Eun-ha asks, puzzled. “You kiss lots of pretty people in the movies.”

Flustered, Taehyung clears his throat. “Who’s letting you watch my shows? You’re a little young for those I think.”

“She likes to watch them when she can’t see you,” a new voice interjects.

Following the voice, you see two adults entering the room– Taehyung’s aunt and uncle. Their expressions are clearly stiff and somewhat distant, a stark contrast to the warmth of the rest of the family.

“Well, I guess it’s okay then,” Taehyung responds, maintaining his usual beaming smile. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s good to see you.”

His aunt and uncle offer polite but somewhat curt greetings.

“Glad to see you’re alright, Taehyung,” his aunt says, her tone lacking warmth.

“Hello,” his uncle adds, his expression neutral. “I see you’ve brought a guest.” He nods toward you.

“Yes, this is __,” Taehyung introduces you, “She’s a friend of mine and a colleague as well.”

The pair glance at you briefly, their eyes betraying a lack of interest.

“Nice to meet you,” his aunt says, though the thickness in her tone suggests otherwise.

“Likewise,” you respond, trying to match their formality with a friendly smile.

“You know, when I heard my nephew was bringing a guest, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect,” she continues, though the implication is unclear.

“I’m sorry?” you ask, trying to grasp her meaning.

“My apologies. I work as an editor for a journalism outlet, so I’ve come across your name before,” she explains. “It’s always interesting to see people in person after reading about them. I can’t say I ever imagined having the opportunity today.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to keep your composure. “I hope the coverage has been accurate.” You know they haven’t been, aside from a couple of progressive news outlets. Based on her rigid stare, you don’t think she belongs to either of them.

“They’re accurate most of the time,” she replies, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Although, there are always…different perspectives on such matters.”

You offer a polite, tight-lipped smile in response. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, however, your hands unconsciously clench into fists at your sides, indicating your bubbling discomfort.

“Well, I’m sure those articles are just one side of the coin,” Taehyung chimes in, attempting to smooth over the conversation. “I’m of the mindset that you really don’t know a person until you spend time with them. And I can assure you, those overpriced tabloids have it all wrong.” He shoots you a reassuring look.

In the midst of it all, Taehyung’s father steps into the room, oblivious to the tension. “Alright everyone, it’s time to eat!” he announces, his voice carrying a cheerful note. “Let’s gather around now.”

Neither you nor Taehyung’s aunt speak another word to each other as you follow his father into the dining room. You take a deep breath along the way, an attempt to steady yourself.

As lunch begins, Taehyung’s father stands at the head of the table, a broad smile on his face as he raises a glass.

“We want to thank everyone for being here today to celebrate Taehyung’s recovery,” he begins, his voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. “We’re grateful for this family and for the love and support that has carried us through. To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” everyone echoes, lifting their glasses in a unified cheer.

From then on, the meal progresses smoothly, with conversation gradually returning to pleasant topics. Dishes are passed around, and laughter helps lighten the mood. Taehyung’s parents share stories of their journey together, their voices rich with wisdom and nostalgia. As you listen, you get a glimpse of the morals that have shaped their family. It’s so different from your own upbringing, and you feel honored to be a part of it today.

Yet it's still difficult to ignore the lingering heaviness in your chest from your earlier interaction with Taehyung’s aunt. Even now, her sour expression is directed your way, though she seems to withhold her remarks, perhaps due to Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s presence.

Don’t take this personally, you repeat in your head. There’s likely some underlying history or traditional views being projected onto you. This isn’t really about you…don't take it personally.

Midway through the meal, Taehyung’s mother intrigues everyone by pulling out a collection of old photographs. She begins sharing the backstories of various childhood photos of Taehyung, the corners of her eyes crinkling with joy and amusement as she recounts each memory. Taehyung, visibly flustered, tries to hide his blush as his family teases him.

“Oh, look at this one!” his mother exclaims, holding up a particularly old photo of a much younger Taehyung with a hilariously exaggerated hairstyle. “He was so determined to be a rock star!”

The room bursts into laughter, and Taehyung grins sheepishly, his cheeks rosy. “Is this really necessary? I mean __’s here…”

“Come on, Tae, it’s cute!” you say with a smile, giving his arm a playful shove. As you do, Taehyung’s aunt’s eyes widen slightly. Her gaze shifts sharply between you two, and a flicker of disapproval crosses her face. You stop your playfulness upon first notice, finding it hard to ignore.

“It’s embarrassing,” Taehyung retorts, unaware of his aunt’s reaction.

“Oh hush,” his mother replies with a warm smile. “Let a mother indulge in the memories of her children. You’re all grown up now, and with your busy schedule, I hardly see you anymore.”

“Alright, fair point,” Taehyung concedes. “Carry on.”

When the meal winds down, Taehyung’s aunt clears her throat and speaks up. “Is everyone ready for dessert? I’ve baked a homemade cake,” she announces, tone carrying a hint of forced cheerfulness. Turning to you, she adds, “Would you mind assisting me in the kitchen, __? I could use an extra hand.”

Taehyung immediately offers to help, but his aunt insists on speaking with you alone, masking it as an opportunity to get to know you better.

Once you’re in the kitchen and away from prying eyes and ears, Taehyung’s aunt’s demeanor shifts abruptly. She returns to her previous blunt and unreserved nature. “I need to be honest with you,” she begins, her voice low and steely. “I don’t think you should be here.”

Her words sting, yet a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s some merit to them.

“I know this is a family event, and I’m sorry if it seems like I’m intruding. Taehyung invited me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she dismisses, venom lacing her tone. “I mean, you shouldn’t be here with Taehyung.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to—”

“Oh please, don’t pretend I don’t have eyes, Ms. __,” she interjects sharply. The use of your formal name sends a chill down your spine. “You may be friends now, but I can see there’s more going on beneath the surface. Unlike the rest of my family, I won’t just stand by and let it happen. So, if you think you can charm your way into my nephew’s life just like you did with that ex-husband of yours, then you’re mistaken. I won’t allow you to ruin his life.”

Ruin his life? You ruined Jungkook’s life and now you are about to ruin Taehyung’s? Confused and hurt, you finally realize the root of the matter–she's convinced you’re a gold digger.

You’re stunned by the accusation, struggling to find words as she continues. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind either. Even if the articles aren’t exactly true, you still have a past, and Taehyung deserves better—someone without all these complications. Don’t you agree? Maybe if you hadn’t been married before and were ten years younger, things might be different. But honestly? A woman your age should already have a family of her own.”

Silence falls heavily in the kitchen after her final words, the only sound being your labored breaths. Your throat goes dry and your hands clammy as some of your deepest insecurities take root, striking right at your core.

It’s true—you’re 30 years old, divorced, and without children. It’s a stark contrast to your peers.

You’d always imagined your life turning out differently, but here you are, alone and without any kind of companionship. You weren’t expecting to be reminded of it all today.

“I think you’ve made yourself clear about how you feel,” a voice speaks up, and you think it’s yours, until you realize it’s much too deep.

Taehyung’s aunt looks momentarily stunned to see her nephew standing in the doorway, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. But she quickly regains her composure. “Taehyung, I was just—”

“Please don’t,” he interrupts, voice firm. “If I had known you were going to be this cruel towards someone I deeply care about, then I’m sorry I invited you.”

He steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “You have no right to judge someone you don’t know based on rumors and assumptions.”

His aunt’s face softens, though her disapproval remains. “I’m only looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from my own choices,” Taehyung replies, his voice calmer. “I’ve made my own decisions, and __ is a part of that. If you can’t respect that, then maybe you should reconsider how you approach these situations.”

Taehyung’s aunt stands silent for a moment, her gaze shifting between Taehyung and you. She seems to weigh his words before finally nodding and turning back towards the dining room, her displeasure still evident.

Taehyung turns to you, his face etched with worry. “Are you alright?”

You hesitate, unable to give a clear response. “I… I think I need some air,” you finally say.

“Maybe it’s time we take that walk down to the beach,” he suggests gently. “What do you think? Of course, if you’d prefer to go solo, that’s completely your call too. I’ll understand either way.”

You nod, appreciating the idea. “I’d like you to come with me.”

“Let me grab Tan and we can head down,” Taehyung says with a reassuring smile.

The sound of the waves grows louder as you approach the ocean, providing a soothing backdrop to your racing thoughts. It's even more beautiful up close, you think, observing how the sun reflects off the water.

As you walk along the shore, Tan runs ahead, chasing the waves and barking playfully. The sight of him brings a small smile to your face, easing some of the heaviness in your chest.

Taehyung walks beside you, his presence peaceful, though neither of you are quick to speak.

Finally, after a few minutes pass, he breaks the silence.

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there," he says quietly. "My aunt's always had more traditional perspectives, but I didn’t know how rigid they’d gotten. Regardless of how she might've made you feel, I want you to know that you’re very important to me and I couldn't care less about what the public says. The rest of my family seems to love you too so far."

You take a deep breath, the salty air filling your lungs. “It’s not your fault, Taehyung. But thank you.” You pause, your face visibly conflicted. “To be honest, I’ve heard variations of it before from other people. I just didn’t expect her to be so… direct.”

He nods, turning to you with sincerity. “I know it was hurtful, and even though I didn’t hear everything she said, you didn’t deserve it. It's not true, either.”

You manage a small, tight-lipped smile, but it hardly matches how you feel inside. “Well,” you begin, continuing your walk, “some of it's true, I think.” Taehyung looks at you with concern, though you struggle to hold his gaze.

“Wanna sit?” he suggests lightly, gesturing to a spot on the beach with a clear view of the waves ahead. "Tan'll be fine to roam around on his own."

You nod slowly in reply, a gentle breeze caressing your face and feathering against your legs as you move.

Once you reach the area, you tuck the skirt of your dress beneath your thighs and take a seat on the soft sand. Taehyung sits down beside you.

“So,” he starts again, his eyes never leaving your face, “what’s true?"

You take a moment, watching the waves crash against the shore before forming a response. “It’s just…” Your voice falters as you search for the right words. “I’m 30 years old. The natural course for someone my age is to have a family, a couple of kids, and of course, be married. Or at the very least, have a reliable romantic partner.”

“Instead,” you take a short breath, “it feels like I’m living in a completely different reality from everyone else. Divorced from a big shot CEO, without children, and painted as some kind of spinster or gold digger for the media to exploit. Being a woman, there's really no in-between which makes it that much harder to overcome."

Upon finishing your thought, an unmistakable nervousness bubbles up within you. Had you just overshared? Were you too honest? Although unsettled, everything in you hopes that you didn't just overstep your boundaries with Taehyung, as the two of you hadn't had this deep of a conversation before. You find yourself holding your breath as he replies.

"To have all that unnecessary pressure placed on you is unfair,” he says quietly. “I can’t imagine how tough it must be to feel disregarded and reduced to so little. I'm so sorry, __. I'm sorry that we gets so fixated on image and what’s deemed proper that we often forget the real meaning behind things. I know it might be hard to believe, but there’s more to your story than what others see or say. More than even you might think, too."

As if inevitable, your vision goes misty and a tear spills down your cheek upon hearing his words, though you're quick to wipe it away. It's not that the words themselves are monumental, but rather, they confirm the closeness of your relationship. Few people have ever understood or cared to understand you, so you had stopped expecting it altogether, especially after your divorce. Yet somehow, Taehyung always surprises you, being one of the few who truly does.

Feeling a bit more comfortable, you admit, "I know it's probably an overstatement, but I can't help but feel like I'm alone in ways that are hard to escape. Some days I just don't know what to do with it all. Does that make sense?"

“Sweetheart,” Taehyung says softly, taking the hand you used to wipe your tears and lacing his fingers with yours. The warmth of his touch sends a comforting spark through you. He’s never called you that before, and it feels unexpectedly intimate—almost domestic, if you didn’t know better.

“It makes complete sense, especially given what you've gone through and still are. You don’t ever have to feel alone anymore though,” he continues. “I’m here for you. You have Jimin and Namjoon too. And the three of us? We’ll always have your back.”

Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with such warmth and innocence, yet he hasn’t fully grasped the weight of your words.

“I appreciate it,” you say gratefully. “It’s not all one-dimensional, though. When I say I feel alone, I mean relationally as well because, given my age and marital status, it's unlikely I'll find any real companionship. I’m just considered ‘used goods' after all.”

“Used goods? Who the hell said you're used?” Taehyung’s voice rises, not in anger but in genuine offense. Amid his reaction, his hand slips from yours.

“Our entire society?” you retort, raising your voice before lowering it again, realizing he means well. You pull your legs up to your chin and hug them. “I’m divorced, Tae. I’m no beauty queen. Just used goods, as I said.”

You both stare out into the distance, falling into a brief silence.

“Well, I for one think you’re very gorgeous,” he says softly, still gazing ahead. “So please, don’t call yourself used. You’re definitely not.”

“Tae—”

“Do you wish you were still married?” he interjects gently, eyes returning to yours, searching for the truth. He wants to add, To Jungkook? but keeps it to himself, not deeming it his business.

You take a moment to process his question before responding.

“Some days I do,” you admit. “Not just with anyone, though. I’ve already learned my lesson the hard way. Jimin tried setting me up with a few of his coworkers a while back, but I declined. They’re so far away that I doubt anything would work out. Plus, not to be harsh but who in their right mind would risk it with me anyway?”

“I mean...I would,” he replies almost immediately, insistence in his voice. There's no trace of bluff at all and for a moment, your heart feels like it's doing about a hundred somersaults in your chest. Taehyung's seriousness makes it seem like he means it in a deeper way, but it can't be—he’s merely speaking figuratively because of your closeness.

“Of course you would,” you reply, grabbing his hand again and smiling gratefully. “Because you love me, right?”

You pose the question playfully, feeling your mood lift slightly, but Taehyung’s expression turns stunned, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I do,” he finally murmurs, deep and meaningful, a soft glimmer in his eyes. “I really do.”

"Hu-" you choke on your words, still trying to process his. You never finish, though, as Taehyung suddenly moves to stand up, a newfound cheekiness taking precedence over his face.

“Come on,” he says, “on a warm day like this, we should find a way to enjoy ourselves. Dance with me.”

“What?” you ask, though to be honest, you're not surprised by his spontaneity. “Dancing is a no, Tae. You know I have zero rhythm.”

He doesn’t reply to your argument but instead draws his phone from his pocket, tapping around until light jazz music starts playing. He turns up the volume as loud as he can before placing it on the ground beside you.

“What are you doing?” you watch as he begins swaying his body from side to side, snapping his fingers when the beat feels right.

“I’m dancing by myself since you refuse to get up.”

You laugh, “I happen to like it this way. You can be my source of entertainment.” You adjust yourself so your legs are stretched out in front of you, feet crossed as you lean back on your arms.

He chuckles and continues dancing in small circles. You feel a little guilty the longer you watch. But then...

“__,” he calls your name, low and raspy. He steps over towards you and leans down until he's face to face with you. You like the way the sun glows down on his face, and the thought crosses your mind—he looks incredibly handsome. “__,” he calls your name again, and you realize you've been staring a little too long.

“Sorry,” you reply. “Sun’s making me dazed.”

He gives his usual boxy smile, and damn, why are you feeling so affected by him today? It’s not usually this much.

“Will you please dance with me? I don’t mind dancing by myself, but I prefer a partner.” He pouts and you know you’re done for.

“I’m not going to be good though,” you reply, reluctantly rising from your comfortable seated position. Taehyung pulls you into his hold the moment you’re on your feet. It's a little rougher than he meant, and your bodies accidentally collide in the process.

“Shit, my bad,” he says, taking a small step back.

“It’s fine," you assure, doing the same but not before catching a whiff of his cologne. You can't quite place the scent, but it’s nice...really, really nice.

As the music continues to play, you both sway gently to the rhythm. Taehyung’s touch is warm and steady as he guides you through each simple step. You feel a strange sense of comfort and safety in his arms, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away.

“I didn’t realize you were such a good dancer,” you start. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

He spins you gently, and you let out a surprised laugh, the sound mingling with the soft notes of the jazz music. “I had to take ballroom dancing lessons for a role I played years ago,” he replies smoothly, “but I enjoyed it, so I kept it up.” When you come back to him, he holds you a little tighter, and the closeness feels more intimate and special than you anticipated.

“You’re doing great, by the way,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Even with barely any practice."

“All thanks to you,” you reply, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I guess it’s kinda fun.”

“See? Not so bad,” he says with a triumphant grin.

You glance towards the ocean, feeling a rush of spontaneity yourself. “The water looks so inviting. We should go in.”

He quirks a brow, taking in both of your more formal attire. “Dressed like this?” he asks.

You don’t answer. Instead, you slide out of his hold and run towards the water, laughing and splashing him once he’s close enough behind you.

“Hey! This was expensive!” he shouts, but there's no threat in his voice, only amusement.

“Well, you shouldn’t have worn it around me then!” you tease, splashing him again.

Now nearly drenched, Taehyung huffs and bends down to scoop water into his palm. “You’re gonna get it…” You back away quickly, but he follows after you. “Come here, I have a very special gift for you __,” he says mischievously, water spilling from his hand as he chases you.

You both end up playing in the water for the next ten minutes, splashing and laughing until you find yourself regaining confidence. At some point, Taehyung unexpectedly tackles you from behind, his arms wrapping so tightly around your waist that no amount of movement would free you.

You find yourselves too lost in amusement to notice your closeness until small droplets of water begin falling from above.

"Was that rain?" You stop all movement, but his grip doesn’t loosen. "Tae?" You call his name when it seems he doesn’t register your question, twisting your head over your shoulder to peer at him.

“Oh…um, sorry,” he finally stammers, a faint blush rising to his cheeks as he realizes the tight hold he has on you. His body flushes against your back.

“No, it’s okay…” you struggle to conceal a blush of your own, the warmth of his embrace a little overpowering. "So, I think we should head back. I'm pretty sure it's raining."

He nods and slowly unwraps his arms from around you. "I agree, but where's Tan?" His eyes frantically scan around the beach. "Tan!" he calls, and soon, two fluffy, slightly damp ears pop out from behind a rock.

"Aww," you exclaim, bending down to pick up the little dog when he trots over. "Look at him. We neglected the baby."

Taehyung snorts at your remark. "He'll be okay. It barely started."

You pretend to cover Tan's ears and shoot Taehyung a faux alarmed expression. "He can hear you, you know."

Taehyung chuckles and gently cups Tan’s face while he nestles in your arms, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. “Sorry, buddy,” he says with a grin. As he looks up, he catches a prolonged gaze in your eyes and raises an eyebrow. “What? You want one too?”

“Oh, uhm, no,” you laugh, a bit nervously, shaking your head. “It’s just nice to see you so endearing.” You think back to how Taehyung had interacted so sweetly with his younger cousin, Eun-ha, earlier. It’s a side of him you're finding increasingly appealing.

Taehyung's gaze softens as he replies, “I like to take care of those I love.”

Love, you repeat quietly to yourself. It sounds so different when he says it.

You smile and, side by side, head back to the house.

The faint drizzle of rain quickly turns into a downpour, with a flash of lightning illuminating the sky and thunder rumbling in the distance. Despite the potential inconvenience, Taehyung’s parents insist that it would be better for both of you to wait until morning to drive back.

"It isn't safe," his mom advises, fluffing a pillow in the guest bedroom. "The two of you can stay here for the night. I’d offer the living room sofa too, but some of your cousins are staying over as well."

"Thanks, Mom," Taehyung replies, and when she leaves the room he casts a brief glance your way. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What? No, you can sleep in the bed with Tan." You pause, eyes scanning the room for an alternative spot. “This chair looks pretty comfortable. I’ll grab a blanket and make do.”

"Okay no, I’m not letting you sleep on that old, dusty chair and risk waking up with a giant kink in your neck.” Taehyung places his hands on his hips, his tone firm. “Why don’t we just sleep in the bed together? For some inexplicable reason, my parents chose to put a California King in here so there should be plenty of room. I’ll even sleep on top of the covers.”

“No, it's fine. Tan needs his space."

“Sweetheart." There it is again, that same petname from earlier. Why do you not seem to hate it? "Tan is so tiny he’ll literally curl between us," he argues, though it does little to convince you.

“Tae, I told you it’s—”

“Alright, I’ll take the chair then-” Taehyung starts to move toward it, but stubbornly, you block his path. There's no way he's sleeping on a chair when you're the guest here.

“You will do no such thing!" Naturally, you place your hands on your hips. “This is your home—well, your parent's home and I won't be subjecting you to sleep on something that small. Seriously Tae, I'd fit much better on it than you would given our height differences.”

A small, frustrated sigh escapes him as he counters, “I'd really rather you be comfortable, especially in an unfamiliar environment. So can we please stop arguing about this? It’s really unnecessary. Either I take the chair or we both find a way to share the bed. You can’t tell me you and Jimin never shared a bed before, and he’s your friend too!"

“Yes, but that’s different,” you insist. “Jimin and I have been friends for years! There’s a strong trust built between us.”

“What do you mean by that? You don’t trust me?” His face mirrors that of a sad, puppy-dog.

“Tae, it’s not that at all,” you say softly, trying to sound reassuring. “I do trust you. It’s just… I guess I just meant that Jimin and I have a long history together. We’ve grown very comfortable with each other in ways you and I haven’t yet.”

Taehyung’s brows furrow in concern. “What are you really worried about, __?”

You shrug, feeling a bit flustered. “Nothing…”

Your mind immediately drifts back to the beach—how he listened, held your hand gently, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, and what it felt like to be held so close under the rain. Everything felt so genuine, warm, and openly vulnerable.

You share similar feelings with Jimin, but they have limits as you are definitely only friends… best friends, to be precise. With Taehyung, you figured it would be the same; however, after today, you're realizing more and more how unsure you are of where the limits are (or where you want them to be), and it startles you.

But it’s not this alone that fuels your apprehension tonight— there’s something else.

“You know I won’t do anything right?” Taehyung asks, his voice earnest. “I sleep with five pillows!”

You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Five? What the hell, Tae? Are you a princess?”

“Yes,” Taehyung says, more nonchalantly than expected, “but stop deflecting. It sounds weird and a bit kinky, but why won’t you sleep in the bed with me?”

Should you tell him?

Your expression grows serious as you explain, “Because it can be very intimate,” you murmur softly. “Maybe I'm overthinking it all, but the last time I shared a bed with someone it...uhm...it was…”

“...with your ex-husband,” Taehyung finishes for you, his tone gentle with understanding. His eyes soften as he looks at you.

“Yes…” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s silly, but I haven’t done it in a long time. Even Jimin and I haven’t shared a bed in years.”

“I’m sorry…” Taehyung says, his voice filled with genuine regret.

“Tae, you don’t have to be sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “It’s my own issue. I’ll just sleep on the chair, alright? It’s only one night.”

“Not happening, you’ll take the bed with Tan.”

“Seriously,” you start to protest, but he’s already moving toward the foot of the bed with determination in his eyes. He grabs the blanket from the end and rushes over to the chair with haste. You run after him, pulling at his arm, and both of you end up laughing, the tension gradually breaking.

“It's been a very long day and I'm quite tired, __. How about turning off the lights, please?” He spreads out the blanket and settles into the chair with a satisfied sigh. Then, there’s a loud creak followed by a distinct cracking sound.

“Fuck—” Taehyung swears as the chair suddenly collapses under his weight. He rises from his seat, grimacing at the broken chair. “I knew it was old, but damn, I didn’t think it was that old.”

“Shit, please tell me this wasn't a family heirloom or something.”

“Uh… I don’t think so?” Taehyung scratches his head, looking sheepish. “I’ll let my mom know in the morning. It’ll be fine, okay? No worries. But, um, I’ll sleep on the floor instead.” Taehyung then grabs a couple pillows and a blanket and starts forming a makeshift bed on the floor. While you watch him, your heart softens despite your exhaustion.

“Alright, enough,” you sigh, exasperated. “If we keep this up, we’ll just be going in circles all night. Let’s just share the bed, Tae. It’s not worth you being uncomfortable.”

Taehyung looks up, concern written over his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable either. I’m happy to—”

“I’m sure,” you cut him off, doing your best not to overthink it. “You're the one who'll be driving for five hours tomorrow anyway, so let’s just get some decent rest. It's okay, really.”

After a good long pause, you both end up climbing into the bed, each taking your own side as Tan curls himself at the foot of the bed. Taehyung reaches over to turn off the light, but despite the calmness of the room, you find yourself unable to sleep right away. You’re unaware he feels similarly until he unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“Are you warm enough?” he asks quietly. “We have more blankets if you need them.”

You turn slightly toward him. “I’m okay for now, but thanks for checking.”

He gives a soft, reassuring smile. “Alright. Just let me know if you need anything. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Tae.” You roll back onto your side and close your eyes. “You too.”

As the night deepens, the storm outside continues its relentless drumming against the windows. At some point, Taehyung jolts awake to a faint but unmistakable sound.

He blinks groggily at first, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. Then he notices your restless movements and hears you murmuring softly in your sleep, a note of distress in your voice.

"__?" he asks quietly, still half-asleep. "Are you okay?"

When you don’t respond, he shifts closer, concerned by the unease on your face. Seeing your share of the blankets has slipped off, he gently tugs them back over you, making sure they cover you comfortably.

Amid the movement, a muddled groan escapes your lips—something between a whimper and a sigh, "Mmm… no…"

It doesn't take a genius to figure out you must be having a nightmare of some sort. “It’s just a dream,” he whispers soothingly, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You’re safe here with me.”

He gently takes your slightly trembling hand and holds it gently in his. “I’m right here, __,” he sighs softly. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here.”

Taehyung isn’t sure how much time passes before your restlessness stops, but he stays awake, hand clutching yours until it does. Eventually, assuming you’ve finally entered a more peaceful sleep, he releases your hand and rolls onto his side.

What he doesn't expect is for you to unconsciously follow him over, your body snuggling against his back. The warmth of your body against his is comforting, but he knows he can't let you stay there and risk any awkwardness in the morning. So with the utmost care, he rolls over to face you and gently adjusts your body until you're lying comfortably on your back again.

"I hope you'll be able to sleep better now," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the storm. "Goodnight."

Following the reunion, you and Taehyung part ways with mutual thank-yous and promises to see each other soon.

Time seems to vanish afterward as you find yourself increasingly buried under an endless pile of work projects. Apparently, over the weekend, a notable investor reached out to your company with hopes of setting up a meeting.

Namjoon is nearly tripping over his words when he relays the message to you.

"Can you believe it?" Your secretary stands within a foot from your desk, excitement evident in his voice. "They want to meet with us! This could be huge for our company."

You share his enthusiasm but your need to remain holistic in the matter tempers your ability to feel overly zealous. Meetings with investors always carry significant opportunities; however, there's no guarantee a deal will be struck. Truthfully, it depends on a number of factors, their level of interest outweighing them all.

Plus, every meeting requires extensive preparation—late nights where you tirelessly hunch over your computer, perfecting every detail of the pitch and this one promises to be no different.

"Did they happen to mention a time or date for further discussion?" you ask, matter-of-factly. Namjoon nods, pulling out his phone.

"Yes, they suggested next Wednesday at 10 AM.”

You weigh the proposal in your mind. “That should give us enough time to get everything in order, then,” you conclude. “Please put it in our calendar and let them know we’ll be ready to meet on that day.”

From then on, the remainder of your week unfolds exactly as you anticipate—relentless preparation, long nights, and meticulous planning until the small of your back aches for relief. One might say it's an exaggeration, but the only breaks you can afford are for primal necessities like eating, sleeping, and using the bathroom.

Even your weekend is spent within the walls of your home office, a far cry from previous weekends when you used to visit the book café or meet up with Taehyung.

Speaking of which, you haven’t really gotten to see each other since his family gathering and though it was only a week ago, the lack of his presence leaves you feeling a bit disheartened. He replied to your text yesterday, but even so, it was brief—something about a new project or talk show interview was keeping him busy as well.

By the time Wednesday arrives, your neck is so riddled with the stress of the upcoming investor meeting that you can barely focus on your proposal notes. Everything in you hopes that the investors will be impressed enough to partner with you, but thinking about it does nothing except heighten your nervousness.

In search of some kind of solace, your mind wanders to Taehyung instead. The memory of the small dance you shared with him on the beach is once again vivid, as if it happened just moments ago—the soft sand beneath your feet, the sound of the waves, and the way his gentle hands gripped around your waist.

But why does this memory, out of all the possibilities, feel so soothing?

You've been struggling to come to a plausible conclusion since the day it happened, yet deep down, you know it’s not as trivial as it seems. You miss it, your subconscious hums, you miss him.

Just then, Namjoon pokes his head into your office, signaling that the investors have arrived in the conference room. You send a curt nod in reply and gather your notes, refocusing your mind on the task at hand; everything else will have to wait.

Turns out, you might have been a bit too pessimistic about the investor meeting. They’re surprisingly pleased with your plans and proposals, nodding along to each of your points. However, their request for a day or two to reach a final decision catches you a tad off guard.

Rather than grapple with the uncertainty though, you decide to mentally prepare for whatever comes next... starting by decompressing at the bar downtown, a glass of their strongest alcohol in hand.

At first, finding a seat proves to be a challenge as you navigate through a sea of sweaty bodies. But luck, seemingly on your side, provides you with an empty chair at the far end of the bar. While you sit and order your drink, you can't help but wonder what Taehyung might be doing tonight. Should you text him to see if he’d join you, even if only for fifteen minutes?

Slipping your phone from the side pocket of your bag, you curse silently at your apparent haste. Your subconscious was right—you really have missed him, damn.

All at once, your thoughts are put to an abrupt stop when you take a quick glance around the bar, your gaze unprepared to land on two familiar silhouettes at the opposite end—Namjoon, with Taehyung next to him, drinks in hand. You don’t know how you failed to notice them before. They’re laughing, clearly enjoying each other’s company, and for a moment, your face lifts into a smile.

But that smile quickly fades when you catch sight of two women sauntering over to join them. Your initial joy is swiftly replaced by a sharp sting of jealousy and you chastise yourself for the feeling. Who are you to react this way? Taehyung can do whatever he wants—why should you care who he’s out with?

Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling, you take a sip of your drink, but your gaze keeps drifting back to the group. It’s obvious that the taller of the two women, arguably as stunning as Taehyung, is laser-focused on him, her hand brushing his arm lightly as she laughs at whatever joke he’s just told. Probably a dumb one, you think bitterly; it's obvious she's not just there for the humor and booze. It's strange to witness, as you've only known Taehyung to allow a few, select women to touch him so openly—his mother, his onscreen cast members, and you.

Okay __, stop, you scold yourself. This is a bad idea; you’re getting too involved for your own good. Hastily, you finish your drink and head out of the bar, the cool night air brushing against your skin. If Taehyung goes home with her, it’s none of your business.

You're barely a few feet outside the bar's door when you hear commotion echo from a nearby alley. Alarmed, you whip towards the noise, your eyes widening in disbelief. There, in the dim light, you see your ex-husband doubled over, clutching his stomach, while a shadowy figure stands in front of him, fist clenched.

You’re not sure where the courage comes from, but within seconds, you're springing to action, racing towards the scene with a surge of adrenaline. “Hey!” you shout as loudly as you can. The attacker glances back, frazzled, then bolts into the night, leaving Jungkook hunched against the alley wall.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you ask frantically, rushing to his side and helping him to his feet. He flinches away from your touch initially, his face a mix of panic and agony. “It’s me, Jungkook. It's __. Can you hear me? It’s okay, I’m here,” you reassure him the best you can, hoping to ease him.

Jungkook takes a few shaky breaths, body still weak as he struggles to hold himself up against the wall. His eyes are glazed, and he seems disoriented. “I… I didn’t expect you,” he mutters, his voice strained.

Offering him an arm, you help him steady himself. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?” He nods weakly, and as you guide him towards the parking lot and into the light, you ask, "What happened back there? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Jungkook sighs, wincing slightly. “No, it’s... I’m fine. He was just a kid—no more than 21. Angry, probably a little drunk, and accused me of being the reason his father got fired. At first, I was confused, but then I vaguely recognized him as being one of our employee’s sons. Pretty sure it was my dad who fired his—I was probably just an easier target."

You both fall into a contemplative silence as you continue walking. Of course Jungkook's father, the chairman of the company, would be behind this, you think. Previous times spent with him had shown you how ruthless he could be when it came to the "well-being" of his company. Whoever the kid was, he probably had a right to be angry, but physically taking it out on Jungkook wasn’t justifiable by any means.

“You sure you don’t need a doctor?” you ask, glancing at him with concern.

He shakes his head dismissively, "Don't worry about me," he replies. "A couple of punches to the gut won't kill me. I think it's about time I head home though."

You nod in agreement. “Where did you park?”

He points to a spot on the far left side of the parking lot, and you nearly groan at the sight. “Did you have to bring your bike tonight?” you ask, a hint of exasperation in your voice.

Jungkook gives a weak smile, understanding the inconvenience of the situation. “Thought I’d ride it in case I needed to get somewhere fast,” he replies, his voice strained but with a touch of humor.

"Come on," you say, walking him toward your car instead. "We might not be married anymore, but there’s no way in hell I'm letting you ride your bike home in this condition. You can pick it up tomorrow."

Jungkook chuckles weakly. “Damn, and to think we were about to ride it together for old times’ sake. You used to be pretty good with my motorcycle back when you were my girlfriend, __." You roll your eyes, patience thinning. If this is another one of his sexual advances, you’re long over it.

"Yeah, well, that was before Taehyung’s accident scared me half to death," you retort. "And for the record, I was never your girlfriend. We went from work partners straight to I do." You open the passenger door and help him into the seat, giving him a gentle shove. "Now sit tight and no more motorcycle talk."

Jungkook leans back and raises an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Well, what are we gonna talk about then? It’s a twenty-minute drive to my place.”

You slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, giving him the go-ahead to enter his address into your car’s GPS. “Are you really whining already?”

As Jungkook taps away on the GPS, you’re suddenly reminded of a series of past car trips you shared with him. It’s almost like déjà vu.

“Seriously, __,” he starts, allowing his playful demeanor to fade. “Thank you for doing this for me. I know we… well, we aren’t exactly on the best terms.”

From the corner of your eye, you observe the way he aimlessly stares out the window, unsure whether to meet your gaze.

"We may not be in the best place, but that doesn’t mean I’d just leave you there," you sigh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. A long pause follows afterward until the question that's been gnawing at you finally slips from your lips. "How's everything with the company?"

Seemingly unfazed, as if he’d been anticipating the question, Jungkook replies, “I’m guessing you’ve heard the rumors.”

“Hard not to,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Well, it's um... it's a sabbatical. I know it's probably a shock, right? My father isn’t too thrilled about it, so he’s delayed the official announcement until we reach a final consensus. But things have been... complicated. Our newest product launched recently, and it’s doing well, but now I think I need some time for myself. To take a step back.”

Well, shit.

Even with all the rumors, you never would have guessed in a million years that the truth of the matter was an impending sabbatical. Jungkook has always been the type to work himself until his hands bleed, so this is the last reason you expected to hear.

“I’m glad to hear you’re finally letting yourself have a break, but honestly, it doesn’t sound like you at all. Feel free not to share, but what do you mean by ‘complicated’?” The way he frames it sounds almost ominous.

“You really want to know?” He finally glances at you for the first time since getting into the car, his eyes carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“Only if you want to share,” you reply cautiously.

He looks down at his hands, gathering his thoughts. “So, remember when we last saw each other a few months back? Well, I’ve been reflecting a lot on our relationship since then. I know I wasn’t fair to you, __, and I really wish I could take it all back. You never deserved any of it. I was incredibly selfish and I’m truly sorry.”

You remain silent, thrown off by how quickly everything circles back to your fragile past together. Still, you allow him to speak.

"Before we parted ways, you suggested I see a professional, and… I thought I'd finally take your advice for once. It’s strange because I’d never gone before, but…”

He pauses, searching for the right words. “I’m starting to understand a lot about myself—why I react the way I do and how I handle things. It’s been tough, but I’m trying. I guess I’m taking this sabbatical because I need to figure myself out, away from work, so I can be better and stop hurting people around me."

For the first time in a long time, as you listen to your ex-husband, you realize he's beginning to sound genuinely mature. If it's true that he's been seeing a therapist and taking a sabbatical to prioritize his well-being, then you're extremely proud of him.

Yet, a small part of you remains stubborn, wishing he had made these changes earlier—imagine where you might be now if he had.

“Thank you for being open enough to share this with me," you respond slowly, careful not to misspeak. "Though I’m still a little surprised, I have to say I’m really proud of you for seeking help. I’ve been seeing someone as well, and it took me some time to settle in too, but I suppose that’s part of the healing process—being uncomfortable to an extent. We’ve had our share of challenges with one another, but despite everything, I’ll always wish the best for you, Jungkook—including your health and mental well-being.”

As you pull into the driveway of his house, parking the car near the front door, Jungkook takes a deep breath and turns to you, visibly affected. "It means a lot that you'd say that, __," he starts hesitantly, hands fidgeting in his lap. "I know I've made a lot of mistakes, and I understand if you can't forgive me completely. But I want you to know that I am sorry. I wasn’t fair to you and I'm not proud of my behavior at all."

You nod in response, a small, tight-lipped smile forming. His remorse for the past is finally sincere, yet even now, as he looks at you with those hopeful eyes—the same ones you carried for months on end—you know he's searching for more than just your forgiveness.

But this time, you don’t think you can offer him more than that.

Because while you grew fond of him during your marriage, you've come to realize how unearned and misplaced that affection was. He broke your heart not once, but twice. And although you can never hate him, deep down, you can't ignore the lingering sting you feel when you're around him.

It's both sobering and eye-opening.

So, rather than reversing into old emotions, you simply say, "I believe you, Jungkook, and I think with time I'll be able to forgive you. If there’s ever a time when you’re in dire need of help, like tonight, I’ll do my best to be there. I’m afraid that’s as far as we can go, though."

It’s written all over his face that it’s not what he was hoping to hear, but respectfully, he doesn’t press further.

"I understand," he says, fingers reaching to for the passenger door handle. "Thank you again for being there for me tonight, and for driving me home. Please feel free to reach out if you ever need me as well. I hope for the best for you too, however and with whoever you choose."

The two of you exchange a brief look of gratitude before he finally pulls the door open and steps out of the car, making his way to his front door.

"Have a good night, and rest up," you call out to him. He smiles, gives a wave, and heads inside.

As you slowly back out of the driveway, you sigh, leaving only one person ruminating in your mind: Taehyung.

Then, inevitably, images of the stunning woman at the bar with him intrude your thoughts, stirring a deep, unsettling emotion within you.

Does it really matter that much who he's out with?

Are you really that jealous about it?

Mentally, you go back and forth as if plucking petals from a large sunflower… Yes. No. Yes. No. Until—Silence.

You can't seem to give a straight answer. It's like the closer you and Taehyung grow, the more undefinable and knotted your feelings become. Yet, the further apart you are, the more unnatural it feels...

Well, your indecisiveness doesn’t get any better by Friday because, finally, after what feels like an eternity, you and Taehyung have plans.

You’re heading out for dinner at a restaurant of his choosing tonight, as he insisted you go somewhere new. Where could it be? You have no clue, and while surprises aren’t usually your thing, his enthusiasm when you confirmed plans earlier has left you intrigued. There’s also this faint, inexplicably giddy feeling in your stomach that won’t go away, coinciding with a slight nervousness.

With such a seemingly important occasion, you find yourself in front of your bedroom mirror, twisting from side to side in what’s probably the fifth outfit you’ve tried on. But nothing seems to fit quite right. You’re feeling especially frustrated to be frank, as something that usually takes you twenty minutes is turning into a whole hour.

You end up tossing one final dress over your head—a bit more elegant for the occasion, but it’s one of the few items you own that accentuates your body down to the last detail. The dress hugs around your waist and falls just above your knees, its rich color perfectly complementing your skin tone. But isn’t it a little revealing? The neckline dips down further than you remember.

Crap—the alarm on your phone suddenly chimes, reminding you that Taehyung's arriving in ten minutes. You're running out of time.

"You’re being ridiculous. It’ll be fine,” you reassure yourself, smoothing down the skirt of the dress. “You're just friends. He won’t care.”

“Friends” stings more than you anticipated, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a deflated feeling in your chest.

Nevertheless, you give yourself one last look in the mirror, apply a quick swipe of lipstick, and head downstairs. Just as you finish slipping on your shoes and grabbing your purse from the coat rack, the doorbell rings, causing your heart to leap from your chest.

Deciding to rip it off like a band-aid, you toss open the door, and there he is—standing on your doorstep with his signature boxy grin and gently tousled raven hair. Taehyung's dressed in a tailored blazer and matching slacks over a crisp white t-shirt, and you find yourself at a complete loss for words as if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be around him.

Maybe it’s something in the air, but he appears equally stunned, looking you up and down with wide eyes. His gaze soon softens into admiration as he takes in your entire appearance. “Wow,” he chokes, clearly impressed. “You look amazing.”

You feel a rush of warmth at his compliment and muster all your strength to keep from looking away flustered. “Thank you,” your voice wavers slightly. “You look pretty great yourself.”

Tongue in cheek, he replies with a playful smirk, “I was hoping you’d say that,” which prompts you to lightly punch him in the arm.

“Don't be arrogant.”

He chuckles, rubbing his arm with a grin. “Shall we head out?”

You nod and step outside, locking the door behind you.

The drive to the restaurant is a brief one, and you're immediately struck by the charm of its exterior when you arrive—stone walls, covered with vines of ivy and warm glowing lanterns. Inside is even more beautiful, with wooden shelves lined with old books and bottles of fine wine wrapping around the room. You're starting to understand why Taehyung was so insistent on bringing you here; the place perfectly reflects his taste and, unexpectedly, yours as well.

One of the hosts leads you to a deep mahogany table after confirming your reservation. The closer you get to it, the more you notice the crisp white linens and small tealight candles that sit on top, setting a romantic scene. If you had to describe the feeling, it would be as though you’ve been transported straight to a quaint corner of France.

"So, what do you think?” Seated across from you, Taehyung looks at you with bated breath. His fingers fidget with the edge of the table, nervously anticipating your verdict.

“Honestly? It’s so charming,” you reply, glancing around in awe. “I didn’t even realize we had a place like this around.”

At this, his demeanor relaxes, and a pleased smile spreads across his face. “It’s a bit hidden, but once I found it, it quickly became one of my favorite spots.” He pauses, then adds, “This is actually the same restaurant I wanted to take you to months ago, before my accident.”

“What? You’re serious?” you blink in shock as the realization slowly sinks in. You take another look around the restaurant—the rows of books, the bottles of wine, the elegant dining atmosphere—and suddenly, it all makes sense. How did you miss it before? “I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner,” you say softly, regretful of having turned down his offer before.

“It’s okay,” Taehyung's quick to reassure you, reaching out to lightly touch your hand. “What matters is that we’re here now. And honestly, I’m just happy to finally share it with you.” He gives you a warm smile, and immediately, you feel a small lump form in the back of your throat.

“Thank you for bringing us here tonight,” you say, “It’s wonderful, and I’m really glad we could make it up.”

“Of course,” he replies, “I thought it was a place we’d both enjoy.”

Everything about his responses seems to carry a heightened level of endearment and attentiveness, as if there’s more hidden beneath them.

Perhaps selfishly, you also sense there’s something uniquely special about this night—something you believe only exists between the two of you. So, when Taehyung retracts his hand, you feel a fleeting instinct to reach out and grasp it again, but you stop yourself short.

What are you thinking? This isn’t a date.

Needing a distraction, you grab the menu and start scanning the options.

Taehyung sees the way your gaze drifts and tilts his head, a concerned expression on his face. “Everything alright?” he asks gently.

You nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “I'm just getting pretty hungry with all the food I smell.”

He chuckles, "Same here," then picks up a menu of his own.

The two of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, fixated on the food and wine list. You find yourself stealing glances at him from time to time, and unbeknownst to you, he does the same.

After the waiter takes your orders, Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. “How’s everything at work been? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Your face lights up at this. “Highs and lows," you reply, voice brightening, "but we got some exciting news today. I met with a potential investor earlier this week, and they’ve agreed to partner with the company. It’s a big win for us!”

Sharing your enthusiasm, Taehyung raises his wine glass, implicating you to follow suit. “This calls for a toast,” he says. “I know it must have meant long nights for you, but I’m so glad they recognized the value of you and your work. Seriously, __, you should be incredibly proud of this!"

You clink your glass with his, a light chuckle escaping you. There's something uniquely satisfying about sharing even the smallest things with him.

The conversation flows more comfortably from there, with Taehyung eagerly asking about the details of your new partnership. You reciprocate by asking about his current work projects, and soon, you both get lost in discussion, naturally causing your conversation to grow increasingly spontaneous. By the time your food arrives, the two of you must have easily covered fifty topics.

With the evening gradually becoming one of the most enjoyable you’ve had, the initial butterflies you felt at the start almost fade away... almost. That is, until you near the end of the meal and Taehyung looks at you with a seriousness in his eyes.

“I’m really glad we could do this tonight," he says, "We’ve both been so caught up with work lately that we haven’t had much time to spend together… I’ve missed it."

"Missed..." The simple six-letter word echoes in the back of your mind in a hushed murmur. It feels nice knowing you aren’t the only one affected by the recent distance.

“Me too,” you reply, more breathy than intended. Before you can fully process your words, you find yourself adding, “I’ve missed you a lot myself.”

A flush of embarrassment twists in your stomach the moment the words leave your mouth. You shouldn’t have said it like that—it almost sounded like… pining? God, you can’t even blame it on the alcohol at this point; you barely had one full glass of wine. Contrary to what you'd expect, Taehyung looks at you with a hint of shyness.

“You know,” he begins, briefly eyeing your dress, “you really do look great tonight. I’ve been a bit worried these past couple of weeks, seeing how much you work and how little sleep you get. But now… I'm relieved to see you looking so well.”

You blush. If only he saw you before tonight—greasy hair, bloodshot eyes, and oversized sweats on, you think. Evidently, tonight was an exception.

"I guess I've been worried about you too if I’m being honest,” you admit, shifting slightly in your seat. "The last time we saw each other was at your family reunion. It feels like it was ages ago for some odd reason."

“I know what you mean,” he says softly, gaze lingering on yours a moment longer than usual. “It’s strange going so long without seeing each other. It feels…unnatural.”

All at once, you pause, unsure if you heard right. Did Taehyung really say "unnatural"? It’s exactly how you’ve felt about the distance this entire time, but you hadn’t expected him to feel the same. Your mind struggles to process the sheer coincidence and its possible implications—was there something more to your relationship than you had realized?

While you try to make sense of it all, Taehyung’s raspy voice pulls you back to the present. “Well, uh, we should probably head out,” he suggests lightly, breaking the silence. You nod in agreement, though it does little to deter you from your thoughts.

You find yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress the entire drive back, occasionally glancing at Taehyung in silence. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, eyes focused on the road, yet you could’ve sworn his mouth parted at one point as if he was about to say something. But then, he held back. You wonder what he might’ve wanted to say, but you’re no better—hesitant to breathe a word yourself.

Why are neither of you speaking all of a sudden? It feels tense and unfamiliar.

In what feels like a blink of an eye, you're standing at your front door again, Taehyung close beside you. The space between you feels smaller this time, with unspoken words still lingering, but it’s clear that despite having your keys in hand, neither of you are ready to part ways just yet.

“__?” He speaks first, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?” You respond, turning to face him fully.

Taehyung takes a deep breath when you do, his usual warmth replaced by a heavy, unreadable expression. “There- there's something that’s been on my mind,” he begins, voice trembling slightly. “I've been going back and forth tonight on whether or not to tell you."

“Okay, what is it?” you ask, pulse quickening.

“It’s about us..." He hesitates, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly before continuing. "Earlier tonight, when I said I've missed being able to see you, I wasn’t lying. If anything, it was likely an understatement because, no matter how busy I was, I kept thinking about you—our time at my parents' place, and how you always came to visit me when I was in the hospital."

He pauses, his fist clenching nervously.

"I’ve realized since then that maybe the reason why is because somehow…you've always been more than a friend to me,” he confesses softly.

Searching your face for a reaction, Taehyung mistakes your blank expression for discomfort. Little does he know, however, that your stillness is merely due to shock, as every nerve in your body threatens to awaken. It feels surreal, you think. Sure, you had a small inkling that tonight felt different and Taehyung was sweeter than usual, but eighty percent of you chalked it up as nothing more than overthinking or projection.

Now, you realize how short-sighted you’ve been, convincing yourself that you could only ever be friends and denying the rest when it's been quite the opposite.

“I’m sorry," he adds sheepishly. "It must be a lot to take in. I don’t want to lose you or our friendship, but with my feelings growing, I think I’ll always want more. I thought it would be better for you to know.”

You see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks, and though he patiently waits for your response, you’re unsure where to start. It’s not that you question Taehyung’s genuineness or intentions, or that you don’t reciprocate his feelings—you haven’t shared such a deep connection with someone in a long time, if ever.

Rather, it’s the years of a mostly apathetic marriage that leave you feeling wary.

What would a relationship with Taehyung be like?

Would you truly love each other?

For how long?

What startles you most is the possibility that if you and Taehyung really do this and it doesn’t work out, you’ll be left even more devastated than before.

When you finally speak, your voice wavers slightly. “To tell you the truth, a big part of me is relieved that you told me all of this,” you admit slowly, your hands clammy. “I thought I sensed a shift between us at your parents' and again this evening. But I also thought I was reading too much into things, convinced it was just us getting closer as friends do."

"I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was wrong because I've been wanting more with you too," you continue. "It's like the further away we are, the worse I seem to feel, and I can't help but wonder what it would look like if we were more than friends. The thought scares me as much as it excites me, though…for reasons I'm sure you already know."

You're uneasy about how he'll react until, all at once, his eyes fill with warmth and his hands gently reach for yours, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the backs.

“Do you remember when we were at the beach and you asked who’d risk it for you?” Taehyung asks. You nod, recalling the exact moment. “You also asked if I loved you, and I agreed to both that day. I didn’t realize how much those words would come full circle, but I meant it then, and I mean it now. I will love you, __, in the way you've always meant to be. I'm pretty sure I'm at least halfway in love with you already, and not just because we're friends."

Wordless, you stand facing each other, your hands still held in his, eyes steady in the brisk night air. His gaze then drifts from your eyes to your lips and back again. The movement is subtle, but in that brief moment, you let your eyes fall to his lips as well.

Taehyung’s waiting for your answer, but you can’t stop thinking of what would happen if you just…

Adrenaline takes over from there, and before you fully process it, you’re leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The sudden touch catches Taehyung off guard, but he quickly responds with gentle, tender kisses. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he deepens the embrace, one hand finding its way to your face while the other rests on your back, pulling you closer.

Sooner than you realize, he begins deepening the kiss as well, eliciting small, breathy moans. At this point, you can feel the tent forming in his trousers, but he makes no move to grind into you yet. Rather, the hands that grip around you tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough that your body pushes further against his firmer chest. You suspect your back will meet the hard surface of your front door within the next three seconds, allowing your entire neighborhood a show, but before then, you're interrupted by a subtle stirring in the pit of your stomach.

"Wait, I'm sorry-" you suddenly break the kiss, a rush of nerves returning. It’s been a long time since you’ve shared such meaningful kisses with someone, and the intensity of it has you feeling overwhelmed. "I'm so sorry," you repeat.

When Taehyung sees you aren’t backing away but rather standing completely still, he settles his hands around your waist, gently drawing you further into a soft embrace. "You don't need to apologize," he assures. "I'm the one who took it further than I should've when I want this to be comfortable for both of us.”

You take a small breath, "You didn't do anything wrong, Tae, I'm just a little nervous due the newness of everything. I think I’d be best if we wait before going any further tonight….but I’m also not ready for you to leave yet. Is there any way you could maybe come in for a bit? To lounge?”

Taehyung nods, “I completely understand wanting to wait. The last thing I want to do is rush anything.” Concerned about possibly pressuring you, he adds, "Are you sure about me coming in though? It's getting late and I don't want to keep you up."

"Please," you murmur, "just for a little while, if you can.”

“Okay," he agrees, thumbs brushing lightly against your sides, "I can stay."

a/n: ajdfhg, TYSM for reading!! Love you all 🥰

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Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[rynbutt]

mansplaining. | spencer reid.

request: @a-second-hand-sorrow "hey queen, just wanted to say i absolutely love your spencer stuff, you write him so well!! as a fellow aussie I was wondering if maybe you could write something with spencer and an australian reader? just something cute and silly, maybe with him infodumping everything he knows about australia ahaha, love your work!"

you can find my other fics on my masterlist.

requests are open!

cw: fem!aus!reader, none really, fluffy, silly fr

a/n: short and sweet hehe

Henry held your hand tight as you guided him to the elevator.

JJ had just gotten back from a trip to Michigan for a case. She ended up sleeping for a couple hours before she had to go back into work again, all before little Henry woke up for the day. Since she hadn’t seen her son in almost three weeks, you thought it would be nice to bring Henry to her with some lunch as a surprise.

You had been JJ and Will’s nanny for almost 8 months now. Since Will had returned to work and JJ’s job was still incredibly demanding, they started looking for a nanny for their 3-year-old son. You just so happened to be looking for a job and to finally put your experience as a nursery assistant back home to good use. 

“You excited to see mummy?” You asked Henry as you stood in the elevator, his little FBI visitor badge far too big on his little body.

“Yeah!” He replied excitedly, jumping up and down while still holding your hand. You had taken Henry to pick up some lunch at JJ’s favourite place then let Henry pick out a pastry for each of you to have for dessert.

“Alright, remember, you have to hold on tight to my hand, okay? There are lots of people around,” you reminded the young boy, crouching down to his level.

“Uh huh,” Henry nodded, his tiny hand squeezing yours.

The elevator dinged and you gently guided Henry toward the bullpen, silently searching for JJ’s office. Henry stayed close to you as you swerved through the busy agents. You decided to ask someone who you thought looked vaguely familiar.

“Uh, Emily, right?” You gestured toward the dark haired woman sitting at her desk.

She glanced up at you, seeming to recognise you and little Henry almost instantly, “Oh hey! You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering if you could point me in the direction of JJ’s office-”

“Did you know the Australian mainland extends from west to east for nearly 2,500 miles?” someone behind you said, obviously hearing your Australian accent.

Emily rolled her eyes and looked at you, “don’t mind, Reid.”

You turned around to look at ‘Reid’, he was cute, probably the young doctor JJ told you about. You pointed at him, “Dr. Spencer Reid, right?”

He ignored you, “And most of the rocks forming the foundation of Australia are from the Precambrian and Paleozoic time… about 4.6 billion and 252 million years ago respectively,” he looked up at you, “yes, I’m Dr. Reid.”

“Mm,” you hummed.

“I’ll go get JJ for you,” Emily sighed, frowning disapprovingly at Reid. You sat down next to Emily’s desk, picking up Henry to sit him in your lap.

“Where are you from?” Another man asked, “I’m Derek Morgan, you must be Henry’s nanny?”

“Yeah, I am… I’m from Melbourne,” you smiled.

Spencer interjected, “Melbourne isn’t said like that. The spelling negates that.”

“Kid… she’s from there, I think she knows how it’s said,” Morgan retorted. 

You just chuckled softly, “I’d love to hear you mansplain my country to me, Dr. Reid.”

“I’m not mansplaining,” Spencer replied, seeming offended.

“You kind of are,” Morgan added, leaning back in his chair.

“Mansplaining!” Henry exclaimed, making both you and Morgan laugh. Henry bolted from your lap the moment he saw his mum. You stood up to greet JJ as little Henry tackled her in a hug.

“What are you guys doing here?” JJ asked, cuddling Henry close to her.

“We thought we would surprise you for lunch,” you smiled, “Henry picked some pastries out for us too, for dessert… I hope it’s okay?”

“No, it’s perfect,” JJ replied, “it’s just what I needed honestly,” she sighed, giving you a side hug as she guided you to her office.

Henry sat on the floor playing with a few toys you brought along for him while you and JJ talked, “so, that Dr. Reid? He’s a character.”

“You met him, huh?” she leans back in her chair with a laugh.

“Oh yeah,” you replied, “he seems…” you trailed off.

JJ nodded knowingly, “Yeah, he’s like that.”

“He’s cute though,” you shrugged with a small laugh.

“Mm, I’ll make sure to tell him that,” JJ teased.

“Don’t you dare,” you retorted quickly. 

You spent the last half an hour of JJ’s break sitting with her and Henry on the floor helping him do a puzzle he had left from the last time he was here. It was nice for JJ to see her son, she missed him terribly but she knew he was in good hands with you.

JJ had to get back to work shortly after and she squeezed Henry in a tight hug, reminding you she might be late again tonight, which you didn’t mind. 

“Say ‘bye-bye’, mummy!” You held Henry’s hand, waving at JJ. 

“Bye-bye, mommy!” Henry called, waving his little hand around. 

You spun around, guiding Henry through the bullpen again before an idea popped into your head. You turned on your heel at the side of Spencer’s desk.

“Hey, Dr. Reid?” You asked softly.

“Yes?” He peered up at you.

“Ever heard of drop bears?”

a/n: i hope you liked it! i know it was a short one but i think it's funny. another chapter of pierced coming soon >:)

[ultralightpoe]

Buy The Book - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: I got inspired by that movie, idk what to say

Warnings: Kidnapped

Word Count: 2393

Requests:OPEN

[Thank you for the gif @bill-weasley ]

Enjoy!

Something was off about the day and no one believed you. 

Maybe it was the morose hotel room your agent had put you in for the week, or maybe it was just the gray foggy weather. Either way out you felt like something was wrong, you felt like you were being watched. 

“Honey, I needed you ready like 30 minutes ago.” Your agent, Santana, stresses the second she enters the hotel room with her own key copy. She attacks you quickly, pulling you from the bed and pulling you to where you had laid out your shoes the night before. “This is ridiculous and you know it.”

“I just have a bad feeling.” You mumble, letting her slip the heels on you as if you were a child. She pats your calf solemnly before standing to fix your hair and check your makeup one more time. 

“I know, you’ve told me all of this before. . You feel as though you are being watched, Michael Jackson style. You don’t feel good. You forgot to eat breakfast. You forgot to wash your laptop.” She rants, snatching both your ids for the event before grabbing both your bags and leading you out of the room. 

You turn at the least second, needing to see the door shut for your own sanity before you allow her to lead the way. 

“I think you are just stressed. You have always hated large crowds and you hate talking in front of people but this is a necessity. You have a terrific book out and you need to own it.” Terrific is definitely not how you would describe the book. Not in the slightest. But Santana had always admired your books far too much. 

It had started years ago, 8 books exactly, and you had been up on an all nighter the day the original project came to mind. 

You had been taking a publishing class and among 24 other aspiring authors you were sure the dream wasn’t worth it anymore. Especially after you had all received the project for the next month, write your own novel. 

There were hundreds of ideas that came to mind for you, heroes and villains alike, and you were sure that no matter what genre you picked from the suspense bucket your professor carried around you would have it down. Then you unrolled it you saw in the neatest handwriting you had ever seen….ROMANCE. 

And you knew you were screwed. 

Up all night, page after page of ideas you can do, all of which you hated. You hated the genre, the least romantic person alive and of course fate would have you be the one to choose the subject. You had always wanted to do fantasy, with epic battles or sci fi. 

Anything but romance. 

You were just about to give up, hyping yourself up to march to your professors class and demand a new one, but then on the way out of the library in an attempt to hide from the sun like a forgotten demon you ended up running into the campus crazy. 

Redmayne, an old man that swears his family was murdered one night by a man with a metal arm, that he had stolen something from his family. “THE WINTER SOLDIER! HE’S COMING FOR US ALL!”

And he had sketched the face onto the sign he carried around. 

You remember stopping short, nearly stumbling from the sudden stop as your bag swung around and you took in the sketch. You were a terrible person to say that the sketch was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. 

Just a black and white coal sketch and your heart was beating through your chest. 

“Sir,” You called, already feeling like a fool. “I have 40 dollars in my pocket and I’ll give it all to you for that sign.”

And thus your new world was created. 

‘The Frost Warrior’ was born, weeks of pouring over your laptop as you created the story of a man named Jameson Boone, a man who once fought for his country and now served as a brainwashed assassin. And no one could forget the leading lady, the spy that met him on a mission and have continued to work together since, with tension and heat keeping them close. 

Your teacher had loved it so much she recommended it, and you received an agent. And the series became real. 

Soon enough the ‘Frost Warrior’ and his true love were being snatched from every bookshelf as people followed along with their journey. 

“I think it was the last book.” You mumble, watching the elevator doors close you both in as she whips her head to glare. 

“What? What do you mean?” She snaps out. “Jameson just got freed from their captors!” 

“So? Now what will he do?” You laugh bitterly, pulling at the awkward outfit you were wearing. “The Frost Soldier is out in the real world. There is no more story.”

“Bitch, revenge.” Your publicist snaps, hands out in the hair from shock. “I want him to get his revenge. To…… to find that person. The head of it all. I want Jameson to come back and prove himself. Last book? We have built an empire off these novels and you want it to be the last book?”

“I don’t know. It seems weird. With all the fighting on the news, did you see that captain america footage? It just feels like there are more serious things to-”

“We will talk about this later.” She snaps once the doors open, pulling you with her to meet your awaiting fans. 

Minutes go by and soon enough you're blinking to try and see through the amount of flash photography there was, smiling a tight smile as it all begins to die down and the questions start coming in. 

“What was your inspiration?” 

“A sign, years ago, with a drawing on it.” You smile. 

“Did you inspire Stephen off of Steve Rogers?” 

“No. I actually have no clue where he came from.”

“You mentioned on your last tour that the rare amulet the Frost Warrior had gone to find was inspired by the ‘Amulet of Ronav’ which was just recently given to a museum after being missing since your book. Were you excited about the news?”

“Yes.” You admit, nodding. “Though I am so curious as to who randomly decided to return that.” 

“Do you think the ‘Frost Warrior’ will try and find some of the weapons that ‘Baskilisk’ was making him hunt down? Maybe assassinate the monsters that hurt him?”

And you drew blank on that question because truth was you could see it, you could see the man of your imagination crawling through vents and tunnels to find the weapons before they could. You could see him growing his relationship with his old best friend and joining the new world with his leading lady. 

But you didn’t want to anymore. 

“If you’ll excuse me.” You rush out, standing quickly to walk out of the conference and rush to the bathrooms. Nauseated and tired. 

This was never what you had imagined. 

In your rush to run some cold water and pour it on your face you missed the man coming into the bathroom right behind you until you stood at full height to look in the mirror. Jumping quite a bit when you see him. 

“OH MY-” You whirl, kicking out and managing to hit his thigh before his own hand reaches out to grab your throat, pushing you into the wall beside the sink and cutting off your circulation as you scratch and claw at his hands. 

His eyes were red, not bloodshot but the pupils of them were red, like a demon and by the way he didn’t even flinch when you scratched across his face you were sure he was. 

“Easy now pet.” He mumbles, pushing you up by your throat until your feet were no longer on the floor. “I ain’t gonna kill ya. I just need you to…..”

And the words were missed by the way your vision blacked out, body going limp. 

- 

“Oh, can we get the bag off her head please?” A voice breaks out, sounding a bit slow as you blink in a pitch black nothing, until someone roughly pulls the bag over your head and you are forced into a new light. “Oh, she does not look well.”

“They drugged her in the car.” Someone behind you mumbles as your head sinks forward, trying to close your eyes again. 

You must have passed out for a couple more minutes before a bucket of freezing cold water is splashed over you, snapping you awake in a panic. You struggle to catch your breath as you fight against the restraints on your wrists and ankles. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?” You manage to scream out, your voice scratchy and dry as the bondages scratch and pull at the skin. But you can’t stop the panic, can’t stop the way your body struggles and your breaths shorten, can’t stop the tears from falling down until you can taste the salt of them. “What. The. Fuck.”

“I’m sorry, really, about all of this.” Someone sighs out, wearing an overly expensive tux and far too much gel in his hair. “I’m a big fan and it was never meant to get this far.”

“What the fuck.?” You gasp out, looking around you in attempt to process what was going on. Every wall was gray and metal, with what looked to be bolts sticking out, the floor concrete. Nothing to recognize. 

The men standing around you all stood with guns at their hips wearing black on black, all looking a bit bored at the moment which was a complete contrast to how you were feeling. 

“Am I in a warehouse?”

“GOOD EYE!” The gel hair laughs out, clapping his hands together. “You are just absolutely marvelous.Didn’t I tell you guys?”

“You’re going to kill me!” You cry out, fighting against the restraints a little more. “Please please please, don’t! I’ll give you anything!”

“We don’t want to kill you lovey.” He sighs out, coming to pull a bit of your hair between his fingertips. “We just need some information.” 

You stay silent in hopes that he will explain more, closing your eyes to try and even out your breathing, making your body go still to try and ease some of the burn you had given yourself from fighting against the zip tie. Only he doesn’t keep talking, instead he watches you as if you were stupid. 

“Information….on?” It felt silly, pulling an attitude while being tied up to the chair. 

“The Winter Soldier.” The man smiles, still looking confused that you didn’t already know, tilting his head as he awaited your answer. “Oh. right. I apologize, you probably prefer to call him that code name….. The Frost Warrior.”

It’s silent for a moment while you blink at him, finally coming to terms with what he was saying before you burst out into laughter so hard that your ribs started aching. You couldn’t stop laughing, the tears less of panic and more so of humor now as you tried to calm down. 

“Excuse me-” Gel hair tries to interrupt before you shake your head. 

“Okay, where are the damn cameras?” You blurt, laughing as you turn to look for them. “This is a prank, right?”

“I can assure you-”

“Honestly Santana did too much this time.” You laugh. “You want to know about the Frost Warrior, well hate to break it to you bud, that was my last book.”

“Last book?”

“Yes, Last one.” Your laugh dies down a bit. “No more Jameson Boone, no more searching for lost and ancient weapons. Or being an assassin.”

“Well….Jameson Boone has stolen something from me. And I think he needs to be handled. So I would disagree.” Gel hair bites out, taking a couple steps forward in anger, and you begin to realize that he was being completely serious. 

“You have been publishing stories that have actual information in them for years and now I;m currently being HUNTED by that fool and I know you know his next move so you NEED TO TELL ME!”

“Wait-” You gasp as you catch the glint of a knife right before his body slumps down quickly, everyone not tied to a chair moving forward to see what might have happened. You angle your body to look to see what happened and you notice the bullet hole the same time they do. 

A scream tears through your throat as the men around you all raise their guns in their own panic. 

More pops ring out and more bodies slump before a hooded figure marches into the room. Every move is one done in grace, when they smash their foot in someone's face they don’t miss a second before throwing someone over their shoulder and smashing a gun. 

You take this opportunity to try and escape, throwing your body in an attempt to get rid of the zip ties only for the chair to fall back, your body with it, both landing with a heavy thud as your head cracks into the concrete. 

“Oh…” You whine out in pain, wanting nothing more than to hold your head as the hooded figure comes to stand over you. “Wait, please I beg you-”

“Don’t.” The figure grunts out, reaching up to remove the hood, the face from the sign years ago. The same jaw and the same eyebrows pinched together in anger. “And maybe next time you’re kidnapped you shouldn’t offer to give them everything.”

“Oh my god.” You gasp out, blinking twice as much to erase the image. “This isn’t real. I’m dreaming.”

“Come on.” He grunts, lifting the chair to slice the zip ties with his knife easily, hauling you over his shoulder. 

“You’re not real.” You mumble, feeling something warm leak down your face. “Oh my god I hit my head and I’m bleeding out. I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.” 

“I am. Because I’m talking to a fictional character right now.” You’re set down then, on your feet so the man before you can assess the damage with an angry glare. 

“We haven’t been formally introduced, I’m Bucky Barnes…. I think…. And you’ve been writing novels about me.”

-

Part 2?

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {8}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Your due date approaches but that’s not the only thing that’s been a long time coming Warnings: 18+ only, fluff WC: 2.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine

Round 4 - Japanese GP

“I think I’m in love,” you moaned happily.

“I should hope so,” Lando commented dryly, making Charles laugh.

“She’s not talking about us, mon cher.”

You patted the vending machine full of the greatest snacks you had ever tasted. “Ignore them, it’s just you and me, now take my money.”

“Are we going to karaoke?” Pierre asked, checking his phone to see the time. “Yuki and Daniel are already there.”

“Shh, let the pregnant woman eat,” his girlfriend reprimanded. “She’s growing a whole human in there.”

“Thank you, Kika.” You sent her a grateful smile before throwing your middle finger in Pierre’s direction. The machine whirred and you turned back to see mechanical arms moving your choice down to the little door. “I just need a few more.”

“She’s stalling because she knows she sucks at singing when she’s sober,” Max joked before pulling out his wallet and going to the next machine. “What else do you want?”

Everyone caught onto Max’s idea and lined up along the alley of vending machines and within minutes there were enough snacks to last you the night, plus one huge Pokémon stuffed animal that Pierre chose for the baby. You could barely wrap your arms around the teddy and you narrowed your eyes at your old teammate. “Out of all of the Pokémon you chose…Squirtle?”

His grin widened until his laughter broke through. “What’s wrong with Squirtle? Everyone loves a big squirtle.”

“You’re so immature,” you tried to say with a straight face but it failed as you giggled. “This is going in my bed when I get home. It’s going to be my snuggler when I’m abandoned.”

“We aren’t abandoning you, mon amour. Everyone agreed it’s too close to your due date to come to China.”

You didn’t like it, but it was the truth. You were lucky to even get away with coming to Japan since you were already 37 weeks pregnant. At least there was a two week gap between the races so you would have some time with Lando and Charles before they left for the next race.

“And your mother will be there, so you definitely aren’t abandoned,” Lando pointed out. He took the teddy from you so you could better see where you were walking and tucked it under one arm so he could still hold your hand. “Max has already given us his plane so we can get back if we need to.”

“I have?” Max cocked a brow.

“You may have been drunk when you said it, but there were witnesses.”

Max scratched his head in confusion but he couldn’t recall the memory. Shrugging, he wasn’t really bothered, he would have offered for them use it anyway. “Who’s your reserve if you have to go?”

“Ollie and Pato,” Charles answered. “My baby is in good hands if we miss the race. Lando is a little more worried.”

“Not of Pato, I’ve seen him in testing,” Lando countered. “I just don’t like sharing.” Everyone looked pointedly between you and your boyfriends. “Har-har, I meant my seat, assholes.”

You eventually made it to the karaoke bar and Yuki growled at everyone for being late, except you. You got a tight hug and a strong whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“I didn’t know what you felt like, so I got a bit of everything,” he said as he pointed to the side table full of snacks and non alcoholic drinks. Pierre reached out for a pack of biscuits but Yuki slapped his hand away. “Not for you motherfuckers. Get your own.”

The annual karaoke had grown over the years and you weren’t sure if it was better when you were sober or not. On one hand you nearly wet yourself laughing at how terrible everyone sounded but on the other your ears were almost bleeding by the time they were too drunk to continue. Crashing out onto the hotel bed never felt so good when you finally got back after midnight. Thankfully it was only going to be media day for the guys so they could sleep off their hangovers.

You combed your fingers through Lando’s hair as he spawned out next to you, soft snores falling from his open mouth. A smile played at your lips and Charles chuckled beside you. “Go on,” he said as he nudged you gently. “Say it.”

You couldn’t resist and he knew it. “It’s all too much for Little Lando Norris.”

“Not little,” Lando grumbled.

“You were asleep a second ago.”

“Wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes.”

“Such a dad thing to say,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek as his breathing evened out and he was asleep once more. “Sweet dreams, my love.”

“You should try to rest too,” Charles murmured as he settled into his pillow and opened his arms for you, his bleary eyes struggling to stay open.

“I will.” You would try to at least, but finding a comfortable position grew harder each day. “I love you.”

“Je t’aime aussi. De beaux rêves.”

He was asleep before you could even reply and you soon followed.

The need to go to the toilet once again woke you and you found Charles' space in the bed empty. After relieving yourself, you followed the light in the living room to see the curtains swaying softly in the breeze.

Charles stood on the balcony overlooking the city, his fingers idly running his matching trinity necklace along its chain. It was only as you got closer you saw his eyes weren’t on the city below but the dark skies above and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades.

“What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He turned and leaned back against the rail, his hands coming to rest on the impossibly large swell of your stomach. You placed your hands over Charles’ and guided them to where the action was happening against your ribs, a nice reprieve from being kicked in the bladder. You couldn’t get much bigger before you popped and the stretch marks already showed the strain the pregnancy was having on your body.

“I wish Jules was here to see this.”

You hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting the driver but from what Charles had said it would have been hard not to love the charismatic person he described. “I’m sure he would be proud of you. I am. Have you thought any more about her name?”

Charles chewed his lip before sighing. “No, I want something new. I don’t want her to be pressured by the weight of the name she carries.”

You could completely understand how a name changed everything and nodded. “Okay, I’ll cross Julia off the list.”

“And Landa.”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. “That was never on my list. I don’t know why you didn’t shut that idea down right away.”

Charles chuckled and kissed your nose. “Because it’s funny, mon amour. He actually thought it had a real chance.”

“Our hopeless dreamer,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest as you yawned.

There wasn’t much time left to narrow down the list of first names but a compromise had been found with the last name. To make it fair, they decided if it was clear Lando was the biological father then Charles' last name would go first and vice-versa. If it wasn’t clear then you were going to have to referee their debate, something you were hoping to avoid.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Charles murmured as he kissed your hand and laced it with his. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It was no secret you always woke up when one or both of them went missing from your bed. Even asleep you seemed to know when their body warmth disappeared.

“It’s okay. I’ll have to get used to it.”

“When we abandon you?” he teased, but there was an edge of sadness in his tone.

“Maybe that was a little harsh but I was hungry. I’m sorry.” You climbed onto the bed and snuggled in between their warm bodies. “I know you aren’t abandoning me, Cha.”

“Good, now I need to have an important conversation.” He shuffled down so he could kiss your stomach and whispered, “Ma petite, you need to stay inside there until daddy and papa get home. I know it’s a little tight in there and we are very excited to meet you too but you have to hang on just a few more weeks, ma fille. Deal?”

“I'm not sure you are going to get an ans-” A kick interrupted you and Charles smirked.

“My girl already listens to her papa.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned as he rejoined you on the pillows. “I hear teenage girls are terrible at listening to their parents. Not me of course, I was an angel.”

It was Charles’ turn to laugh as he curled his arm around your waist and closed his eyes. “An angel…I don’t think that was the word your mother used.”

Your yawn cracked your jaw before you said, “It’s a good thing I have matured since then.”

“Like fine wine, mon ange.” His nose brushed your cheek before he planted a sleepy kiss on your temple. “Bonne nuit.”

Exhaustion turned your tongue heavy as your body relaxed against his. “Goodnight, baby.”

Round 5 - Chinese GP

You wanted to smash your phone when the alarm went off in the middle of the night. The time on the screen said 7.30am but it was a lie. You had only been asleep for a few minutes from what the aches in your body indicated, not hours.

“The drivers parade is starting,” your mother called out from the lounge.

With a groan you pushed away the giant Squirtle you used as a body pillow and rolled to the edge of the bed before swinging your legs off. Just the small movement left you breathless as your lung capacity dropped and you hated the think what your VO2 levels would be like at this point.

“Can you hit record please?” you yelled back before going to the bathroom. There was no way you were going to miss a moment of the days activities, even if it meant watching the pre-race grid walk after the race finished.

You made it to the couch in time to see Charles and Lando climb onto the trailer together and couldn’t help noticing the dark bags under their eyes. They matched yours. It was the first time being away from each other for so long that you were all finding it difficult to adjust and sleep. Video calls couldn’t replace touching them.

They would keep their phones with them until the very last moment when they climbed in the car so you grabbed yours and sent a quick message after reading the sweet good morning messages that came through while you were sleeping.

To Group Chat: Drive fast and keep it clean. I love you.

It took almost half a minute with the delay of live tv for them to pull their phones out before turning and waving to the camera with big smiles, Charles even blew a kiss.

The boys had promised an interesting race during their media interviews on Thursday. Everyone knew it was the first race without you there and they were going to make up for it by pushing their hardest for a win. As it turned out, Checo tried to go three wide into turn one with Max and George, causing a red flag and the retirement of all three cars.

You could practically see the fumes coming off your brother and you didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what he was saying when the camera panned to him in the garage. Maybe Checo would be the next to learn just how fast Red Bull can take away the seat they gave. He wouldn’t be the first and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“Eat your breakfast, it’s gone cold.”

The dish your mother made would still sit on the coffee table for another 37 laps but you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. Charles was leading with Lewis in second place but you knew the Mercedes’ tyre degradation meant Lando would soon be able to overtake, and you weren’t even there to scream for them.

“I will soon,” you lied as you edged closer to the tv and saw the two cars enter the straight. “Get him baby…”

Lando’s rear wing opened, adding to the slipstream he was already getting from Lewis, and he pulled out to shoot past, diving onto his breaks in the corner and taking second place.

“Yes!!!” you screamed as you jumped to your feet.

“Don’t jump around too much, you might break your waters,” your mother warned as she pulled you back down into the couch cushions.

“But did you see that? That was perfect!”

Your mother smiled at your enthusiasm. “He did very well, but you need to calm down.”

Your nail beds were ruined by the time it came to pitting and they both went in on the same lap but Ferrari made a mistake and took a few key seconds to recover. It was just long enough for Lando to be released and get in front of Charles.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, nervously bouncing your knee as Lando defended against Charles. “I can’t watch. Mum, my heart can’t handle this…” She held your hand and you gripped it tight for the remaining laps.

“Go! Go! Go!” you screamed at the tv, leaping to your feet again as Lando finally crossed the finish line less than two seconds ahead of Charles. “YESSSS!!!”

You couldn’t keep still as you rubbed your belly and laughed exuberantly. “Daddy just won his first race! Holy shit, he did it!” You were giddier than the first time you won but he had waited so long for it after being robbed of the win in Sochi. “I can’t believe I’m not fucking there!”

“Language,” your mother reminded with a laugh. You turned to see she was recording your reaction and sent the video to the group chat with Lando and Charles.

“Oh please, she’s not even born, and that’s the least of her worries.”

Lando’s shouts over the team radio made you smile harder and he was still laughing and possibly crying by the time he pulled into the pit lane. “Yeah, baby, about fucking time! Woohoo!! Who’s your daddy?”

“Well done, mate, you deserve this.”

“Thanks, Jarv, are you crying?”

“I just got something in my eye.”

“Yeah me too.”

His car parked in the centre position but he couldn’t get out as sat in disbelief, his helmet dipped with his head. Charles was the first out and half hung into Lando’s cockpit as he embraced the winner. You couldn’t hear their exchange but you could imagine Charles telling him how proud he was before helping him climb out of his seat.

Lando jumped from the halo and into Charles’ arms before Carlos rushed in too after taking third place. You couldn’t help thinking it should have been you with them.

“What a way to take your first win,” Jenson said with a grin as he started the post race interview. “I guess there will be plenty to celebrate tonight. Any plans?”

“Mhmm,” Lando hummed as Charles joined him after his weigh-in. “Big plans. Important plans. We are heading straight to the airport and going home to celebrate with our wife.”

“Wife?” you asked aloud.

“Wife?” Jenson echoed.

“Uh, figure of speech, you know?” Lando chuckled, his neck turning pink at his mistake but he was so high on elation it had slipped out. “We have a baby on the way and our lives are built together. It doesn’t get more committed than that kind of thing.”

“So there haven’t been any secret nuptials we don’t know about?”

“No, not that we wouldn’t if we could but there’s kind of laws or something against it, or so my lawyers say.”

“Trust me, they’ve checked,” Charles added, but it was the first you had heard of it.

You were still thinking about that when they disappeared to the cool down room and when you watched them stand proudly on the podium, the British national anthem playing loudly. You were still thinking about it when they left the stage and the Sky presentation came to an end.

Click here for the next part.

[call-mi-jinx]

Aaron Hotchner - Reckless

summary - you disobey hotch's orders, which results in a very heated argument between the two of you in his office.

warnings - hotch is not with haley, mentions of fire, mentions of guns, slight mentions of violence, confessing (u have to rlly squint to see it)

Main Masterlist Aaron Hotchner Masterlist

a/n - hiya girlies! i have only just realised how gorgeous hotch actually is, so i wanted to write this before i get writer's block becos i just know im gonna get it at some point. ta ta my lovelies! requests r open! xx

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

I never thought I had fit in with the BAU, albeit I had only been part of the team for 2 months, everyone just had that connection. And I didn't. I hated it, I always cracked jokes, tried to lighten the mood. Sometimes they laughed, but one person who never even smiled was Aaron Hotchner.

We were working a case down in Vidalia, Georgia. There was a serial killer who targeted blonde girls aged between 5 and 8. This guy was good. He never left the crime scene messy, always tidied up after himself without leaving a trace of evidence.

But around a day ago, he had slipped up. He left a picture of a house with a family of four in front of it. A mother, father, teenage boy and a little girl who looked around 6 or 7 years old. It had a date on the back of it - 14th June 1988.

This was big, the UnSub could be one of the men in this picture, we assume the teenage boy.

"They're the O'Driscolls. Tragic what happened to them." One of the local police say as they look over my shoulder at the picture.

"You knew of them?" I turned to the police officer and raised a brow. She nodded her head with a sad look on her face.

"Yeah, I was friends with the little girl, Frankie. Her older brother, Jack, always creeped me out. Always stayed to himself, barely came out of his room. And when he did, he'd bully Frankie." She shivered as she recalled the memory of them.

"Then the fire happened. All of them except Jack died, he got put in the foster system and no one has seen him since. Except around a week ago. He looked pretty angry." I furrowed my brows at the woman.

"And you didn't think to inform us?" Aaron then made his way over to us and took the picture from my hands.

"Can you tell us where he lives? Or where we could possibly find him?" The woman nodded then told Hotch that he had a shack he used to go to as a kid about 3 miles West from where we were.#

We immediately headed to the shack, put bullet-proof vests on and split up to go through different entrances to check the shack. I booted the door in before Hotch signaled for us to and pointed my gun at Jack as soon as I saw him.

"FBI! Get down on the ground and put your hands on you head!" Jack did as he was told, and I cuffed him after. I turned to see Hotch giving me the dirtiest glare I had ever seen. I was going to get rinsed when we get back to Quantico.

We took him in for questioning, we only had 72 hours to prove that he was guilty. We tried and tried but he wouldn't break. Until we had 30 minutes of the 72 hours left. I then went into the interrogation room where he was and showed him the picture. His body language immediately changed.

"You know what I think Jack?" I raised my brows at him, using a condescending tone.

"What?" Jack replied in a monotone voice, he leaned back in his chair and sighed in annoyance.

"I think you were jealous of your little sister. As soon as she was born, you hated her because all the attention shifted from you to her. Mummy and Daddy didn't care about you anymore. And because you were so angry about this, you started the fire that killed your family. You ended up in the foster system, and eventually ended back where you started." Jack suddenly became angry. His nostrils flared, jaw clenched, fists tightly clenched, eyes squinting and glaring right at me.

"Shut. Up." His breathing became jagged. His brows furrowed and raised and he purses his lips.

"And when all your memories started to come back you got angry from the memory of your parents and little sister. So you used all these little girls as a substitute for your sister. And you have the buried underneath the shack we found you in!" Jack slammed his hands down on the table and stood up. He leaned slightly closer to me.

"They're not buried under the shack! They're under my mom and dad's house!" He spat at me quicker than he could stop himself. I smirked at him and crossed my arms.

"Thank you." I looked to the mirror in the interrogation room to which I know Hotch was behind the whole time.

I walked out of the interrogation room and burst into the room. They were all astonished, we hadn't gotten anything out of him in nearly the whole 3 days we held him.

"Good job." Aaron said monotonously. He was still pissed. We then processed him and everyone got on the jet back home.

The ride home was silent, everyone could tell Hotch was pissed. This wasn’t good. Not only did I already not fit in, Hotch was pissed with me now.

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

I was sat in Hotch’s office. He told me to wait there while he sorted some things out. I was nervous. I started biting the skin off my lips, twirling my hair and tapping my foot on the floor.

My body stiffened and breath caught in my throat when I heard the door open then close shut. Was he going to shout? Suspend me? Fire me? All these questions running through my head, but he hadn't said a word when he sat down in his chair.

All he did was glare. Eyebrows knit together, mouth straight, nostrils relaxed. He wasn't pleased with me at all. I'm surely fucked now.

"How stupid are you?" My jaw went slack. I've never heard him speak like this to anyone in the team before after they disobeyed orders.

"How stupid do you have to be to go guns blazing into a house with a potential serial killer inside and just hope for him to not attack you straight away? Why do you have to be so reckless?" Tears began to brim my eyes, I haven't been shouted at like this since high school.

"Well?!" He stood up and placed his hands on the desk. His glare pointing straight at me. I didn't know what to say. My mouth kept opening and closing, every time I thought of what to say but dismissed it as it wouldn't diffuse the situation.

"I'm sorry, sir. It was a spur of the moment. It will not happen again." I looked down at my palms, picking the skin at my fingernails. I began to tap my foot on the floor faster, get more and more anxious. I only did it to prove myself to the team. I didn't mean to cause any harm.

"What if he had shot you? Stabbed you? Set a trap? You would've been seriously hurt and I don't know what I'd do if-" He stopped himself dead in his tracks. He straightened his posture and his mouth was in a very tight straight line. I looked up to him, confusion painted on my face.

"What?" The tears began to stop, I realised he actually cares about me. I never suspected he actually did.

"I care for every member of my team. It wouldn't be good if you had gotten hurt. You need to be more careful. You may leave now." I hesitated for a second, wanting to ask him what he meant exactly. But instead I nodded my head, got up and walked out of the office.

Aaron Hotchner, the guy who never smiles, cares about me?

[libraryofloveletters]

You Snooze, You Lose

John Stones x Reader

Warnings: childhood friends, losing touch, all the boys are so annoying, John is lowkey butthurt, a lot of assuming is happening, mentions of kidnapping, so many emotions, unspoken feelings and regrets, kyle is chief meddler, a little sexual humour, some friendly teasing, jack's love of gucci, divorce, alcohol and the consumption of.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Note: this is sooo self indulgent, shout out to pookie who helped me plot this <3 @themandaloriansdiaries

---

Childhood friends; a story as old as time..

Everyone knows how it ends, it either works out or it doesn't. You stay friends forever and live happily ever after or you love and you lose, you move on and they stay a chapter in the story of your life.

That's what John Stones was for you.

Your best friend from the age of 9 until you turned 19. The boy across the street, the one that walked you to school, the one you joined at practice, cheering him on from the stands at games.

While you had been focused on making it through school, John's interests were elsewhere. Football was all he thought of, a ball by his feet 24/7. He joined his boyhood club, Barnsley, and worked his way up until he signed for them in 2011. You still remember his debut, the sense of pride and joy you felt was incomparable to anything else in your life.

After a year of playing for the first team at Barnsley, he was off to Everton. John moved, of course, making it easier for him to be with the team. He still returned home but you saw less and less of each other.

By the time he was 22, he was signed to Manchester City and that was the end of the two of you, or rather whatever was left of your friendship.

Granted you were very proud of him and all he achieved, but it still hurt you to lose your best friend. It wasn't 22 year old y/n that was losing her best friend but 9 year old y/n who used to sit in the stands and watch him practice for hours on end.

There wasn't much you saw of John after that. Maybe a hello in passing if you saw him when he returned home to see his family but it became less and less frequent, until all you had left was seeing his face on tv.

8 years, that's how long it's been since you've seen John. Time flies when you've both moved on with your lives.

You find yourself in Manchester, rainy and grey as always but a familiar feeling of coldness reminds you of home.

The jewellers assured you that your ring would be ready in a week and you'd be back then to pick it up. Half past 3 and you've got time until you need to head to the station to get your train home so what better way to spend the time then to shop?

You find your way through the busy streets and into the shops, picking out a few odds and ends for the house, shopping basket on your arm as you make your way through the store.

A text had your focus, trying to keep in your corner as you walked and texted at the same time. You hadn't even noticed as you were walking straight into someone until you hit them. It felt as if you walked into a brick wall, the person was solid to say the least.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you say to the person, bending down to pick up your phone before they turn to see who's walked into them.

"Watch where you're going- y/n?" The voice sounds familiar, you think to yourself. How did they know your name?

You look up as you stand up, it takes you only a second to realize who's in front of you. "Johnny," you smiled, the nickname rolling off your tongue as it did many years ago.

"How are you?" The man asks, pulling you into a hug. You felt yourself relax, the feeling of his arms around you reminded you of home in the best way possible.

You take a step back, "I'm good, how are you?"

"Can't complain," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling under the horrendous fluorescent lights. "What brings you all the way to Manchester?"

"You say that as if Manchester is in a whole other part of the planet," you laughed. "But I came to the jewellers to get my ring fixed and I had some time before my train so I decided to do some shopping."

John nods, glancing at his watch. "It's half 5 now, most of the trains are gone by now, no?"

Your eyes widened a bit, "you're joking." Checking your own phone to see he was in fact right, it was half 5 and the last train to Barnsley just left. "Oh shit."

"How are you gonna get home then?" He asks and you shrug. "I'll probably take an Uber."

"No," he shakes his head. "I can't let you do that. I'll take you home."

It's your turn to shake your head. "Well I can't let you do that."

"Why not?" His brows furrowed, making you smile. "You've probably got things to do, big footballer like yourself." You joked.

John rolled his eyes playfully. "Shut up. It's fine. I'll take you home, I can't let you take an Uber, you're too pretty. What if the Uber driver decides to kidnap you? I won't forgive myself, you know."

You can't help but laugh, obnoxiously loud as well. Your hand covers your mouth, giggling behind it as you often did as a child. The action brings back fond memories for John. He smiles at you, his heart warm and fuzzy in his chest.

"What if you tried to kidnap me? I haven't seen you in years, I don't know what you do in your spare time now."

He chuckles, crossing over his heart with his finger. "I promise I'm not a kidnapper, you can call my mum and confirm."

"Fine," you tell him. "You're certain I'm not putting you out by accepting?"

"100 percent," he takes your basket from you, putting it into his shopping cart, pushing it down the aisle as you follow him. "I didn't even ask, where do you live?"

"Barnsley."

John stops and turns around to look at you. "Seriously? You never moved?"

"I mean I don't live in my parents' house anymore but yes, seriously." You laughed, nudging his jaw back around so he can watch where he's going.

The two of you cash out, John insists on paying for your stuff even though you tell him it's fine. He says okay but then removes the little separator between your stuff and his, putting it together without you noticing. You roll your eyes at his childishness, thanking him regardless. Ever the gentleman, leading you back to the car and carrying the bags before opening the door for you.

Certainly his car is worth more than your house but you got in, sitting quietly as he drove towards Barnsley.

The music plays in the background as he drives. "How come you never moved? From Barnsley?"

"It's home," you tell him, "plus not all of us become big footballers that can afford mega mansions."

John laughs, glancing over at you to see the smile on your face. "Speaking of footballers, I saw your last game. You were good."

"Just good?" he teased and you nod. "Mhm hm. You know me, I've always been more of a Liverpool girl."

"Ew," he makes a face, you can't help but laugh; something you did often in his presence. The short time you two had been back together made you feel like a child again.

Sometimes you still couldn't wrap your head around it. John, your John, the little blond boy from across the street was a professional footballer, and a damn good one at that. Playing for a treble winning team and for England, John was living his childhood dream and you couldn't be more proud of your best friend.

If you could even call him that anymore.

It was a short drive once he got off the exit, you directed him to your place. You lived 10 minutes away from your parents, you two used to walk these streets as kids, it was home after all.

John pulled into the driveway, his car looking out of place compared to the neighbourhood but he got out, taking your bags out of the trunk for you.

There's a man coming out of the house, putting his coat on and fishing his car keys out of his pocket as you get out of John's car. "Thank you for preventing my maybe kidnapping," you tell John, taking the bags from him.

He glances at the man and then back to you. "Yeah," he smiles, "anytime." He reaches for his phone, handing it to you. "Give me your number, so we can stay in touch."

You put your number in, telling him to text you so you could save his number. "Don't be a stranger," you say as he pulls you into a hug. "Even footballers have friends."

John laughs, a big smile on his face. "I know, I promise to text."

"Thank you again, for everything."

"Anything for an old friend."

You smile, "bye Johnny."

"Bye y/n."

John gets back into his car, watching as you walk up the driveway to the man who was by the front door. He doesn't pull off, but instead watches the interaction between the two of you. The man on the porch kisses your cheek before walking down to the driveway.

It takes John a moment to connect the dots; the ring at the jewellers, the house that looked like it was a happy home, the man on the porch, the kiss on the cheek.

You were married.

John's heart feels like it's been broken again, in a whirlwind of emotions; disbelief, regret, and a sense of longing. The realization stings of missed opportunities and unspoken words. Every laugh shared, every whisper, every stolen glance filled with love, every memory cherished now carried a bittersweet feeling.

The knowledge that he never confessed his love. It was unknown to you but John had always thought of you as his.

You were his y/n, his best friend, his girl.

No matter how much he tried to move on, despite the two of you never being more than friends, there was no woman compared to you. That's a horrible way to live, he can hear Kyle's words in his head, his teammate telling him he's got to get on with his life.

But how could he move on knowing you were still out there? All but a phone call away and yet he never reached out. He moved on with his life, achieving all he hoped, all but one thing.

He moved on and so did you. No one's to blame but himself.

--

Kyle finds his teammate picking at his lunch, pushing the pieces of chicken around his plate with the fork. "Didn't your mum teach you it's rude to play with your food?" He says, glancing at the younger player.

John rolls his eyes in response. "Oh, we're moody today." Kyle takes a sip of his juice. "What's going on?"

"I saw y/n last week." John mumbles, staring at his half eaten lunch.

Kyle nearly spits out his juice and hits John in the face. "Y/n? As in.. your y/n?"

"Bumped into her at the store and took her home."

"What's the issue, mate? You took her home and what? The sex was that bad? I guess years of pining will do that to a guy."

"Shut up," John groans at his friend's crudeness. "We didn't have sex, you jackass. She's married."

"Oh," Kyle makes a face, and it's as if John can see the gears turning in his friend's head. He knows whatever is to come out of Kyle's mouth next is going to be ridiculous.

"Well, do you want me to beat up her husband? You can run in and save him, you'll look like the hero and she'll fall in love with you and leave her husband."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life," John chuckles, "but no."

Kyle shrugs, taking a piece of chicken off of John's plate and eats it. "I offered a solution and you don't want it. You can't beat yourself up over her being married. You snooze, you lose, Johnny boy."

"Have I ever told you how unhelpful you are?"

"All the time," Kyle smiles. John's phone buzzes on the table, the man glances over to see who it is. "Who is it? Is it her?" Kyle asks, sticking his head over to see who texted John.

He pushes Kyle's head away and reads the message.

To John: Hi Johnny, you're invited to dinner on Sunday.

To John: Well I'm inviting you now. Sunday at mine at 6pm, or anytime after that? Does that work for you?

"Say yes," Kyle tells him before he can even think what to reply. John shakes his head, "I don't want to have dinner with her and her husband."

"What if I beat him-" "Shut up, that's not an option."

Kyle rolls his eyes, taking the phone from John and replying before he could stop him.

From John: Hi y/n, thank you for the invite, 6 works great for me. Can I bring anything?

"What did you do?" John tries to get his phone back from Kyle but he runs over to the other table where Jack and Erling were sitting.

To John: Just your pretty face ;)

"Why would you do that, you idiot?" John smacks Kyle's arm, taking his phone back. "This is going to be the most awkward dinner of my life."

Jack turns to see John and Kyle fighting. "What's going on?"

"Johnny boy's got dinner with a married woman." Kyle says, telling everyone John's business. Erling makes a face. "A married woman? Is that like.. a kink for you?"

"No!" John groans, putting his phone into his pocket. "She's a friend that happens to be married. It's not what Kyle made it seem like." He glares at his friend, Kyle shrugs.

Jack asks the important question. "What are you going to wear? Do you want to borrow one of my Gucci shirts?"

"I'd rather not look ugly," John says, making Jack roll his eyes. "Opposed to.. you looking like yourself? So just double ugly?"

He huffs, "I'll wear something I have. It's only dinner."

"If you say so," Jack makes a face, clearly disapproving of John's fashion choices.

John grumbles as he walks off, "I hate all of you."

--

The days pass and John finds himself at your front door, heart beating out of his chest with nerves. He didn't want to have dinner with you and your husband. He wanted to turn back, to get into his car and leave.

He can't.

John's done scarier things, he's played matches that sent him into a spiral and yet, he's alive and well. One evening won't kill him.

It'll be in and out; dinner, small talk and then he'll leave with the excuse of an early training session.

He knocks, his palms sweaty. They take turns holding the bottle of wine as he wipes his palms on his jeans. The door opens, you're standing there with your hair over your shoulders and a big smile on your face.

"You made it," you stepped aside, "come in."

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he says as he walks in, noticing your bare feet he takes his shoes off. "I had a match and then we had the debrief and then I went home to shower, lost track of time and got stuck in traffic."

"Don't even worry about it," you tell him, shutting the door. John passes the bottle of wine over to you, "for you."

"I told you, you didn't need to fuss and bring anything." You accept the bottle with a smile regardless.

"It's no trouble, plus it's rude to show up empty handed." He says, watching as you walk to the kitchen. "Make yourself at home," you called out to him and John took that as his sign to poke around a bit.

He sticks his head into the living room, no sign of the husband. It's warm, homely. A couch against the back wall, tv by the window, fireplace along another wall. You've got photo frames hanging, some as decorations, some with actual photos.

There are three photos hung on the wall in the hallway, he stops to admire them. The middle frame had a little boy holding a baby wrapped up in a lavender blanket and the other two were what seemed to be school photos. The boy on the left and the girl on the right.

You peek out of the kitchen to see John looking at the photos. "Cute kids," he says. "Yours?"

Shrugging, you walk over to him. "Bought the house and they were on the wall, it seemed wrong to take them down."

"Oh," he makes a face, unsure what to say and you laugh, resting your hand on his bicep. "I'm kidding, they're mine. This is Sebastian," you point to your son and then your daughter. "This is Sophia."

"They're cute, they look like you."

"Genes are strong, Stonesy. Just like yours." You say, making him laugh. He nods as he knows what you meant. He and his sister were the same person, different genders.

"How old are they?" John asks while he follows you into the kitchen.

"Seb is 7 and Soph is 4."

"It's quiet, you'd think it'd be loud with little ones. Are they not home?"

"No," you handed him a glass of wine. "They're at their dad's for the weekend."

"Oh," John says, taking a sip of his wine. "You're not married?"

You make a face, one of disgust rather as you turned to your friend. "God no, ew. Why would you think that?"

John laughs at your face. "I just thought.. you said you had to get your ring fixed so I assumed your wedding ring."

"It's my blue one, the one you gave me for my birthday before you left for Everton." You tell him, checking on the roast in the oven.

John thinks back, he did gift you a ring for your 18th birthday, it was a few months before he signed for Everton. He thought it'd be a nice thing to give you, 18 was a big birthday plus he was officially making big boy money, not as much as he made now, but more than enough that he could afford to buy his best friend a nice gift for her birthday.

"I can't believe you still have that."

"Well I thought about pawning it off but the guy said he'd only give two pounds, so I figured I'd keep it. Sentimental value or something like that." You joked, John rolled his eyes at your words playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Is there anything I can help with? I feel bad sitting around."

"Take the roast out of the oven? The pan is unnecessarily heavy." You set the plates on the table and John looks at you while walking to the oven. "You made a roast?"

"Well it's Sunday, isn't it?"

John nods, "it is. I haven't had a proper one in years, like actually sitting at the table and eating it. It's always left overs from mum because I had other stuff to do."

"It's so depressing," you chuckled. "Wait, I didn't even ask, can you eat this? Aren't you on some super footballer diet or something?"

"It's fine," he tells you, carrying the pan to the table. "One night won't kill me."

Dinner was quiet, the two of you chatted and caught up on as much as you can about the last 8 years. You talked about family, yours and his, he told you stories of his teammates and shared little memories he cherished from your childhood, you told him about your kids and how they drive you mad everyday.

It was nice, it was the grown up version of eating Chinese take out at 3am in the kitchen as teens.

You find yourself on the couch, each of you with a glass of wine and the almost empty bottle on the coffee table.

"I wonder, since you thought I was married, are you hiding a relationship?" You asked, finishing off your glass before setting it on the table. "Am I going to see myself in a headline somewhere? John Stones spotted cheating on wife with mystery woman." You both laughed at the made up headline.

"No," he shook his head. "I'm single, no need to worry." He mirrored your action and set the empty glass on the table before leaning back into the couch. "But if I can ask, what happened between you and your.. husband? Were you married ?"

"I was," you nodded. "We thought we could make it work but between work and the kids, we have no time for each other and we were miserable, even when we were together. It wasn't good for us nor was it good for the kids. So instead of the kids having one unhappy home, we decided to call it quits and let them have two happy homes."

"That's very mature of you both."

"I'd like to think so." You smiled. "What about you? How come you're single? You're young and handsome and talented."

"You think I'm handsome?" He raised an eyebrow. You roll your eyes, laughing as you smack his arm lightly. "Shut up, you know what I meant."

"Well, I never moved on.. from someone in the past."

"Oh.. someone broke your heart?" You shifted to face him fully. "Tell me everything."

John smiles, some things never change. "Sorta, I mean, not really. It was a long time ago and when I left home, I left her behind and I regret that. I shouldn't have left like that, we should have figured something out. I should have reached out but I didn't. I think I wasn't sure how to, so I never did.''

You nod, thinking. You understood what he meant but you were trying to figure out who he was talking about so you started naming off the girls he used to see while he was living in Barnsley and Liverpool.

"It's none of them," he says, smiling at your effort.

"So who is it?" You asked, brows furrowed. "I know all your exes."

John smiles at you, the twinkle in his eyes as he looked at you was a dead give away, and it hits you like a freight train. "It's.. me?" You look at him, your cheeks bright red when he nods.

It reminds him of when you two were younger, the two of you giggling until you're out of breath and red in the face.

"So pretty," he whispers, going to pinch your cheek. "Shut up," you mumble, swatting his hand away. John smiles, hand cupping your cheek.

A hand wraps around his wrist, the two of you looking at each other. In that moment, years of unspoken words hung in the air. Without a single word said, they both knew what the other was feeling - a feeling that had been buried deep within you both for so long.

With a soft smile, John leaned in, closing the gap between you. Your lips met in a kiss, pulling you into him. As they sat on the couch, still intertwined, John and y/n felt a sense of peace wash over them.

It was as if the weight of years of unspoken emotions had finally been lifted off their shoulders.

John's forehead pressed to yours, "do you know how long I've been waiting to do that?"

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to do that?" You giggled, kissing him once more.

--

tags: @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle @mehrmonga @callsignvenus @kmc1989 @ironmaiden1313 @muglermami

reply/send an ask to be added to my football taglist!

[melanieph321]

Okay hear me out: what about ruben’s girlfriend losing her memory temporarily, and ruben literally leaves everything to take care of her. He asks some time away from football to help her on her recovery journey, and he would make her one of his usual breakfasts, full of nutrients and he would help her exercice slowly and would help her remember little things at a time, and he would just do everything for her well being 🥺

THIS IS THE ONE, MY 100TH RUBEN FIC! 🥳🥳❤️❤️❤️🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳❤️🥳❤️🥳❤️🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

Love the many requests I've received, I have stories for days now 😅. But in honor of my 100th Ruben Dias fic I have written a 8 part series based on this request. Hope you enjoy!

Ruben Dias x Reader - Remember You and Me Part 1/8

Enjoy!

You slowly opened your eyes, groggily taking in your surroundings. You were in a hospital room, surrounded by your family and a man you had never seen before. The man, who you assumed was a nurse, was holding your hand and smiling at you.

"Hello, honey. Welcome back" your mother said warmly.

"What's going on." You grunted. The pain hit you all at once as you tried to sit up.

"What hurts the most?" Your mother was quick to pat you down, not wanting you to over extend yourself.

"My neck." You said and reached up to touch the brace that covered your throat.

"The doctors say you have to wear it for a couple of weeks. You were in a terrible car accident that almost left you paralyzied head down."

"What?" You tried to sit up again but squirmed as the pain hit.

"Careful." Said the male nurse, still holding your hand in his. "I know this isn't easy for you to hear Y/N," He said. "but the truth is that you've been in a coma for the last four days. You've had multiple injuries on your spine, ribs and if it wasn't for the doctors deciding to put you in a sedative state your brain would still be swelling."

Your brain swelled with all the information you were given. "I want to go home." You said. You hated the smell of hospitals and always have.

"I know honey, I know." Your mom stroked your head. "But I'm afraid it won't be that easy."

"Why not?" You looked around the room, meeting the faces of your family. They all carried the same expression of sadness and concern for you.

"What's going on?" You said through the tubes plugged in your nose.

"Honey..." Your mother tried to break it to you easily. "You don't live with us anymore, you haven't done so in the past five years."

"Um, what?"

"Honey, what is your last memory? How old do you think you are?"

"Mom what are you...I'm nineteen years old and I live with you, dad and Eddie. Why are you asking me these stupid questions? Why am I in the hospital, what happened to me?"

You were getting quite worked up, however your mother was patient. "Y/N, the doctors suspect a temporary memory loss as a result of your severe head trauma. You are not nineteen years old but twenty four years old. And you don't live with your father and I, you live in England with your husband, Ruben."

Your mother pointed to the nurse standing next to your bed, his hand still intertwined with yours.

"My what?" Your eyes widened in confusion. Husband? You had no memory of getting married. In fact, you had no memory of anything that had happened since you were a teenager. "What do you mean?" You asked, voice shaking. "I don't remember getting married."

The nurse smile faltered for a moment, but then he took a deep breath and explained. "You were in a terrible car accident a few days ago. And in a coma ever since this morning, when you finally woke up, not remembering anything. We've been trying to help you remember, but it's been a slow process."

Your mind was reeling. You had no memory of your childhood, your friends, your job, or anything else. It was as if your entire life had been erased.

"Mommy." You cried, letting go of the nurse/your husband's hand. "I want to go home, take me home right now."

"I know sweetie, I know." She brought you in for a hug, a tight and safe mommy hug. "The doctors say that your memory loss is only temporary, that it will come to you naturally as you go on with your daily life."

"Okay, so I'm free to leave the hospital then?"

"Yes, the sooner the better. However you have to leave with Ruben not us."

"What? I can't go live with him, he's a stranger I don't even know him."

The man's eyes widened in suprise, his expression unreadable.

"Yes, you do honey." Your mother was determined. "Ruben is your husband and you must stay with him. We will be here through your recovery, every step of the way. But for your memory to return to you naturally you must go back to living your old life, the life you spent together with Ruben, your husband."

[3minsover]

Steddie Dancing With the Stars AU (posted on twitter a little while ago)

Eddie Munson used to be in a band.

They were successful, hit the mainstream at just 19 years old, and had almost 4 years of success. But it’s been 8 years since the band fell apart, and when Eddie’s manager suggests he do something like Dancing With the Stars, he’s initially appalled. He’s a Serious Musician. He’s not about to make a fool of himself fucking about in spandex on live television. But management feed him the Exposure line; it’ll make him a household name again, remind people he exists. So he has his people say yes. Though, he’d left it late to agree to the offer, so he’s only a back up in case someone else drops out. He’ll most probably not have to even do it. Sweet. Except, a week before filming starts, someone does drop out. bumping eddie up to main cast.

Shit.

He’s paired with a guy, Steve. Has no issues with dancing with a man; they’re not the only same sex couple this season and it’s cool to see even a little progress. What he very much does have an issue with, however, is Steve Harrington. Who made no effort to hide how disappointed he was that the man Eddie’d been replacing - some ex-football player - had dropped out last minute, and how he ‘guesses Eddie’ll do.’ Steve’s pushy and demanding, and frankly a bit of a bitch. But he’s a fucking great dancer. Even Eddie can see that. they get through the first couple weeks of live shows easily enough, but it’s tough faking a smile and agreeing that, ‘Oh, i’m just so lucky to have Steve as my partner.’

The night after the third live show, when Eddie had missed a step and nearly tripped Steve, when muscles are sore and nerves are frayed, they get into it in the parking lot out back of the studio.

Eddie confronts Steve about his attitude, and Steve bites back about Eddie’s own. It takes one of the other dancers to break them apart, all up in each other’s faces as they were. They’re told to cool the fuck off, start again on Monday. Only, when monday rolls around, Steve announces their dance this week is the Argentine Tango.

Eddie’s heard of it, another couple danced it last week. lots of twisting and stepping and flicking of legs. Fucking nonsense, honestly. Steve sits Eddie down and shows him the choreo he’ll be doing, gliding over the studio floor, arms raised at the elbow, hands floating in the air in front of his chest, and Eddie finds himself itching to be clasped within those hands. He almost slaps himself at the thought. They work through the first few sequences, Eddie giving lacklustre leg-raises between Steve’s calves. after a particularly half-hearted flick, Steve tightens his grip on Eddie’s biceps and jolts him, forcing Eddie to look at him. They’re chest to chest, nose to nose, heartbeats already elevated from the movement.

"You don’t get to fuck this up for me," Steve growls, eyes boring into eddie’s with a darkness he’s not seen in the month they’ve known each other.

"You think I’m doing this on purpose? I can’t do it, it looks stupid."

"It only looks stupid if you don’t try," Steve snarls in response. "Let’s keep going." He swings the pair around to their next position. And then Steve does something that has Eddie’s jaw dropping open.

Steve drops into a crouch, sliding one leg swiftly out to the side. the angle seems impossible, and it has Eddie thinking all sorts of things about how flexible Steve is. Steve’s hands have slid down Eddie’s arms and are circling his wrists, pulling on them just enough for Steve to keep his balance.

"Okay, and then you’re going to spin me round from left to right. Can you do that?" Steve asks. But Eddie’s unable to focus on the question, because all he can see is Steve, face-height with his junk, looking up at him through those long lashes.

"Uh. Can I- gimme a second." Eddie tears himself away from Steve’s grasp, rushes out of the studio and into the foyer. He’s lightheaded with lust and his cheeks are burning.

This isn’t happening. He doesn’t like Steve. He’d been secretly planning to sabotage their performance so they’d get voted off, but now. Now he’s already craving the featherlight touch of Steve’s fingertips as he repositions Eddie’s head, as he guides his hands to the correct place. He eventually returns to the rehearsal room, having splashed some cold water over his flushed face.

Steve does the move again, and Eddie spins him, staying silent but for confirmation of Steve’s instructions. And then Steve slowly raises himself up until he’s pressed back against Eddie’s chest, leaning ever so slightly to his left to look back at Eddie’s face.

"The Argentine is about desire. Want. Lust. It’s about craving. You have to look at me like you crave me," Steve almost whispers, and Eddie’s legs feel weak. Eddie swallows, blinks hard, can’t help the way his gaze dips down to trace over Steve’s plush pink lips. When he looks back up, Steve’s eyes are wide and searching. "Yeah, like that," Steve breathes, though Eddie had been making no conscious effort to look at Steve in any way other than the way Steve makes him feel.

And if Eddie realizes now that that feeling is desire, then that’s just gonna make this whole thing a fuckton more interesting.

[miheartsedthings]

Song: Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez

Billy x Shy (slightly) Nyctohobic Reader SFW (Minors DNI)

Summary: You and Billy only met a week ago (the day you started community service) and you never talk to him, that is until the night you're cleaning the community center and the power goes out. 

My submission to @corroded-hellfire Valentine's event! ;)

Words: 3,365

“It's your own fault, but 500 hours for parking tickets is fucking bullshit.” 

Carmen takes a generous pull from her cigarette, a bright red cherry glowing in the dark. She draws the smoke in deep and lets it billow from her nostrils like some great dragon. As if it were purer than the air around you. The baseball field is dark, an orange lamp post on the little street beyond the fences. You sit on the ice-cold bleachers, chill biting right through your thin sweatpants and pullovers, numbing you to the bone. 

“I can't believe you're going.” 

You say to the dark. You reach for the bottle of crown between your sneakered feet and take another swig. 

“Yeah well, no one told you to get community service right after graduation. Otherwise, you could start with the rest of us.” 

“Who knew Hawkins took parking so seriously.”

She chuckled, her face obscured by smoke and darkness. She chuckled and didn't even cough.

“Talk to Hargrove yet?”

You took another long drink and cringed a little. 

“Nope.” 

She chuckled again, but louder, blossoming into a full-hearted laugh. 

“Seriously? You lost that bet fair and square. If you don’t tell him, it’s friendship treason.”

“I swear, I’ll tell him.”

“How?” 

“I’ll figure it out.”

She shook her head, then put out her spent cigarette and grabbed your hand. You walked that way; hands clasped, joints stiff with cold, the way you had every night since graduation a few months back. Be it from parties or hours on the bleachers talking about any and everything. Carmen had been your best friend since moving there from Chicago mid-semester. In the morning, she'd be going off to college and you already missed her so much it made your throat ache.

You stopped on her darkened lawn and she turned to you. 

“Do me a favor,” she said, fishing her crumpled pack of lucky strikes from her front pocket and slapping them into your hand. “Keep my last lucky.” 

You look at the white and red pack, it's plastic crinkled, the integrity of the carton broken down into a soft, malleable thing. 

“For luck?” The question isn't a question and you smile when you look at her, pocketing the pack. A slow grin spreads across her face. 

“Hell yeah. Good fuckin luck.”

 

. . .

The clouds are dark and low, threatening rain at any minute. 

“It’s child endangerment having us out here in a storm.” Ricky, one of the other ‘volunteers’ sneers this at the probation officer, interrupting his speech about your assignment. 

The officer cuts his eyes at him. 

“A, you’re working inside the community center. B, you’re 23. All of you are old enough to know better.”

You're messing with the pack of cigarettes in the pocket of your orange jumper. The sky does look sinister, and you’re here much closer to sunset than normal. The community center wouldn’t reschedule their afterschool program, leaving the group to wait until dinnertime. 

“You’ll work in teams of two. Two on the second floor, two on the main, two in the basement.” 

The girl beside you raises her hand, her pink manicure glittering in the sun. 

“My doctor says I can’t be in dark, dusty places. I have a note.” 

The officer regards her with annoyance. 

“Jess and Thomas, take main,” he says, “David and Ricky you two have the attic, and.” 

It’s then that he looks around, realizing you're the last person there. He rolls his eyes. “Anybody seen Hargrove today?”  

Of the fourteen days of service, Billy has only shown up about 8, and only half of those was he on time. When you’d first moved to Hawkins, Billy stood out immediately. The California transplant who took over the school. It’s a shame he insisted on acting like a dickhead because he was a serious hottie, and there was a lack of eye candy around here. In any case, your paths never crossed. However, that didn’t stop you from admiring him from afar and developing a strong, embarrassing crush. Then, there’s the thing only Carmen knows about. The it you're required to confess to him. Somehow.  

The probation officer goes inside to make a phone call and the rest of you relax. You and Jess hop up to sit on the railing along the wheelchair slope. 

“You think he’s coming today?” You ask her. She’s adjusting her jumpsuit, trying to make it look more flattering somehow. 

“If he does can we switch partners? All Tommy talks about is friggin Dukes a Hazard.” 

You laugh. 

“Be my guest, his energy is a bit much for me, anyway.” 

“Oh, yeah.” her eyes twinkle mischievously “It’s a lot, right? But in a good way. Like a mouth full of hot pizza.” 

“You like that feeling?”

“You don’t? It’s nice to be a little overwhelmed sometimes.” 

Just as she’s saying this, you get a whiff of smoke, and then she yelps, scrambling away from the rail and grabbing her buttcheek. Billy stands on the other side, grinning, a mostly-gone cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“What?” he asks “Too much?” 

His jumpsuit is hanging down, bunched around his waist. His white tee shirt is taut across his chest. Jess giggles and goes back to lean against the bar, she and Billy getting close. 

“You like sneaking up behind girls and pinching their asses?” 

“Only the cute ones.” 

“Mr. Hargrove,” The probation officer is making his way over and you hop down from the railing “Nice of you to join us. You’re in the basement.” 

“Um, actually, mister," Jess says "Y/N said she doesn’t mind switching partners.”

“Well, actually, I mind. Hargrove and L/N, in the basement.” 

. . .

Billy is whistling while he lazily pushes a skinny vacuum across the short blue carpet. It had started raining the moment we got inside and it raged against the little storm windows near the ceiling. The basement is a small space with a chunky green couch in front of an old TV. Shelves of board games line one wall while on the other is a shelf of movies and an old stereo. You're dusting off the shelf and then move to the stereo, its buttons are all dirty and gross. 

“God, this thing is old.” You say, not expecting Billy to hear you, but he does. He switches off the vacuum and comes over, leaning down over your shoulder to look at it. He's close enough to feel his body heat. You smell his cologne and the familiar cigarette smoke. 

He glances at you, and even though you look away quick you know he caught you staring.

“Let's see what we got.” 

He flicks on the stereo and navigates to a station blaring metal.  

“Fuck yes,”

He cranks the music up and starts bopping his head and swirling his hips. You can't help but laugh, and when he sees you looking pleased he smirks and hams it up even more. 

“This is not a party!” The parole officer yells down the steps as he comes down. He rounds the corner but Billy doesn't bother to stop dancing, in fact he turns and aims his rolling hips at the officer. 

“What's wrong with a little party?” He asks.

You turn the radio off and Billy looks at you like he's surprised you're obeying. You look away. 

“Thank you, Ms. L/N. Now, I'm gonna step away for a little while, I'm needed at the courthouse. Can I trust you two to stay down here until the job is done?” 

“When exactly is that?” You ask. “I mean, are we supposed to be dusting everything? Cuz that's gonna take all night.” 

He sighs. 

“Look, just straighten up, clean the windows, make it look nice.” 

“Do we have glass cleaner?”

“Are you gonna sass me all night?” 

The officer’s tone clips, suddenly, stinging. It makes you look down. 

“We got it covered, why don't you run along?” Billy says, already turning his back on the officer, who stares angrily after him for a moment before leaving. 

You get back to dusting, embarrassed into silence. Billy wasn't even pretending to work anymore. He rifled through the board games and then sauntered over to the movies and did the same. 

“What’d you do, anyway?” He asked, coming up beside you. You looked up at him, and he smirked down at you like he expected something bad. 

“Parking tickets.” 

His face fell. 

“Fuckin tickets? Damn, and here I thought you were interesting.”

Your stomach dropped. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” You moved over to the TV and started brushing it off with a paper towel. “What'd you do? Fight somebody?” 

“Is that what I look like, to you?” He teased, following you, “You think I'm some jerk who goes around lookin for fights?” He circled in front of you, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help smiling. 

“Ya know,” He leaned against the TV, looking up at you with those ocean-blue eyes. “I remember you.” 

You stare at him in disbelief for a moment, flustered by his undivided attention. 

“Yeah?” You got back to dusting, nervous about the way your blood was rushing. “Well, I was around, and you were around,” you rambled. He closed the distance between you again and snatched the paper towel from your hand. Balling it up, he tossed it around his back and caught it over his shoulder like it was a tiny basketball. 

“You gave a speech at that assembly.” 

“You remember that?” 

You try to hide how pleased you are.  

“What, among all the other thrilling shit going on at Hawkins High?”

“I thought you were more of a ‘parties and babes’ kinda guy.”

“Yeah, well. That shit gets boring, too.” 

He takes a step closer, trailing his gaze up to your eyes and lingering there with intention. He can tell that his presence makes you nervous, and in the quiet moment that settles, he smirks a little. Thunder claps, making you yelp and jolt, you’re so close to Billy that you can’t help bumping into his chest. He catches you, his hands on your arms. 

“Whoa,” he says with a chuckle “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little storm?” 

You push away from his touch. 

“Of course not.”

You went to the little bucket of cleaning supplies near the vacuum to look for glass cleaner you already knew wasn’t there. It was dark out, and you were trying not to make it obvious that you were worried about getting home. The bucket offers paper towels, wet wipes, and a couple of sponges. What exactly are you expected to do with this?

“I thought you’d be back in Chicago by now.” 

Billy was settling onto the couch, his feet up on the coffee table. Wind howled against the building and you looked to the storm window just in time to see a flash of lightning. Good, this time when the thunder comes you won’t jump like an idiot. 

“Yeah, me too. But we’re residents now, and there’s no way my parents can afford out-of-state tuition.” You sigh and look back to the bucket, eager for something to keep you busy. “Not like I miss it, anyway.” 

“Not a big city girl?” 

“The weather sucked half the year, and people were weird. Maybe it was just my school but it seemed like everyone wanted to take advantage whenever they could. Just trying to use you and get to the next best thing.” 

“Sounds like LA. Buncha wannabes.” 

“I thought you came from the OC?”

A slow smile drew across his lips. 

“Torrence,” he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “What else do you think you know about me?” 

Your secret flashed through your mind. 

“I’m sure you know what kind of reputation you have.”

“Fuck,”  He grumbled, half a broken cigarette between his fingers. 

“Your last?” 

“Wouldn’t be my life if it wasn’t my fuckin last.” 

Your hand went to your pocket. Thank you, Carmen. 

“Here.” You went to him and offered the pack. He looked up at you, the split cigarette hanging from his perfect lips. He smirked and accepted the cigarette.

“Look at you, bein unpredictable.”

You gave up on cleaning and sat next to him. Just as he was lighting the cigarette, the room went dark. You jolted, letting loose a little yelp. Upstairs, Jess shrieks. The room is so dark for a moment you can’t see anything, then Billy flicks his lighter and you can see a little of his face. 

“Knew it. You’re scared.” 

“We should check on Jess.” 

You stood, but there was barely any light coming in from the two storm windows and you could barely see in front of yourself. Billy’s hand came to your waist and you jolted again. 

“It’s just me,” he said calmly, wrapping his arm around your waist, which you allowed. Let’s face it, you're creeped out and his body feels solid and warm. The two of you make your way to the stairs, only to reach the top and find the door locked. 

“Jess?” 

You knocked hard, hoping she could hear you. 

“Y/n?” Her voice came to the door. You heard her try the handle. “I can’t open it!” she yelled, on the verge of panic. 

“All the doors up here are locked,” Tommy added. “Dave and Rick are stuck in the attic, too.” 

“Dammit! I can’t be under this pressure!” Jess cried. 

“Do you have to yell?”

“Shut up Tommy!” 

 The two went on bickering on the other side of the door. 

“Why don’t you two freaks break a window or somethin?” Billy yelled, shutting them up. 

“We-we’ll give it a shot,” Tommy called back “Give us a sec.” 

Their voices receded, Billy groaned and the cherry end of his cigarette glowed as he took a drag. you were close in the narrow stairway, his arm still around you, as if it belonged there. 

“Since when d’you smoke?” He asked. 

“I don’t. That’s courtesy of Carmen Bailey.” 

“Ah, yeah. I remember her. Her mom’s at the pool every day in the summer.” 

The thought makes your stomach fall.

“Did you ever…?”

Even though you can’t see him, you know he’s smirking. 

“Just another rumor.” 

You wonder what would happen if you told him right now. It could go well. If what the woman said so long ago had been true, then it had to go well. But what if she was lying? A shiver ran through you. 

“You cold?”

“Hm? No. I’m fine.”

He pulled you closer, your shoulder against his chest. God, he’s so warm. A loud bang made you jolt again and Billy stroked his thumb against your side, filling the stairwell with lucky strike smoke. What a thing when cigarette smoke becomes comforting. Another loud bang. No shattering glass. 

“It didn’t work!” Jess cried with desperation in her voice. 

“Fuck,” Billy mumbled. 

“What do we do?” Tommy asked. 

“Just wait for the officer to come back.” You said. 

“Have you seen what it looks like out there? He’s not coming back. Fucker just left us.” Jess might’ve been crying real tears. 

“At least you’re not in the basement,” You added with a little laugh. 

“As if I wouldn’t kill to trade places with you.” She said. 

You and Billy went back down to the couch and settled in. Officially stuck. He kept his hand on you in some way, on your hip and then on your thigh when you sat down. You sat together in silence, and you watched the glow of his cigarette wind down to his lips until it was gone. You don’t know where he put it out. Then there was just the sound of the storm. The rain and an occasional flash of lightning. The thunder which made you tense for just a moment each time. Billy could feel that tension, you knew because every time he would message your thigh, reminding you he was there.  

“I’m really glad you never hooked up with Carmen’s mom. She’s my best friend and it’d be really awkward.” 

He laughed. 

“Best friend, huh?”

“Yeah. Since day one. You weren’t here the first couple of days I started but it was weird. This town treats new people like aliens.” 

“Think I don’t know? Weirdass cornfield fucks.” 

You belly-laughed and he chuckled a bit, too. 

“Well, to be fair they didn’t stand a chance against you. Nothing could’ve prepared them for hurricane Hargrove.” 

“Hurricane Hargrove,” he said, testing the nickname “I like it. You came up with that?”

“It was here when I arrived. You’re the best thing about this place.” 

You hadn’t meant for it to sound so intimate, but suddenly there was just the sound of the rain and something fluttered in your chest. Billy’s hand moved a little higher on your thigh, kneading the muscle. 

“Anyway, Carmen’s great. That’s why I hate not starting classes with her. We’re supposed to share a dorm.” He doesn’t answer, his hand is still feeling your thigh and your face is getting hot. “Are you excited for school?”

“Did you hear the question you just asked?”

You laughed nervously. 

“I just mean, aren’t you looking forward to getting out of Hawkins? Starting your life somewhere else? I mean, what do you wanna be?”

He sighed. 

“Uh, fuck, I don’t know. I wanna…not be a prick.” 

“Decent goal.” 

He scoffed. 

“Should be easy, right?” He was quiet for a moment, and in the quiet, your hand came down over his. Your eyes were adjusting and you could make out his outline. That curly hair. “I’m here ‘cause of my dad. We got in a fight…that asshole started it but the second I fought back he said ‘You’re a man now, you’re gonna face real consequences for your actions’...called the cops. Charged me with assault.” 

You stroked your thumb over his knuckles. 

“Sounds like a piece of shit.” 

“Biggest I’ve ever met.” he said, “So, I don’t know where I’ll go, what I’ll do. I’m just not stayin here. And he’ll be lucky if he sees me on his deathbed.”   

You're filled with the urge to lift his hand to your lips, to kiss the length of his arm, and find his mouth in the dark. Would you get that far? Would he stop you? 

“There’s something I should tell you.”

The words popped out on their own, setting in motion this confession you couldn’t hold in. 

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice smooth and low, “Tell me.”

You took a breath. 

“Promise not to laugh.”

“That bad?”

“Please. Promise.”

“I swear.”

He squeezed your hand with a reassuring firmness.

“My parents took me to Navy Pier when I turned eleven and I saw a psychic there. She told me,” A rush of nerves made you cringe “God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

“Just spill it.”

You groaned, dying of embarrassment.

“The psychic told me I’d meet my soulmate one day and until that day I’d suffer nightmares every single night. And she was right. I had nightmares that night and every night since then…until I found my soulmate…” quiet stretched out between you as you found the courage to finish, “Until I found you.”  

The lights flicked back on, making you squint and cover your eyes from the sudden flare. Then you saw him. He looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time, recognizing someone. 

“How d’you know it's me?”

After a moment’s silent embarrassment, you swallowed spit. 

“You're in my dreams now. All the time.” 

He looked down, and you're so nervous you wanted to chew off your lip. You stood, only to have Billy stand with you. He kissed you, and his tongue was smoke and spearmint. His lips were soft, and he took you around the waist, pulling you into a distant, smoky cologne while your arms were slung around his neck. Nothing had ever felt so perfect. He pulled back, though not far, and there was so much tenderness in his cool eyes. 

“D’you think it’s stupid?” you asked. 

“Y’know…all kinds of crazy shit happens around here. Someday I’ll tell you about it.”

[offender42085]

Post 1258

The victim's father expressed compassion for the young defendant, who stood to the side of the courtroom in prison garb, with his hands cuffed.

Alan Faynzilberg, New Jersey inmate 821030E, born 1997, incarceration intake December 2017 at age 20, released November 2023

Vehicular Homicide -- Reckless Driving, Manufacture/Distribution/Dispense of Controlled Substance

In October 2017, a Belleville New Jersey man was sentenced to eight years in prison for a drunken head-on collision that took the life of a young father of two in May 2016.

During a somber afternoon hearing in Superior Court in Newark, the judge said he had seen other victims' family members express forgiveness toward their loved one's killer. But none, he added, had ever done what Pietro Davila did following the death of his son, 33-year-old Luis Davila.

"I've never had a victim's family member come before me and request that he be put on the defendant's visitation list," said Superior Court Judge Ronald D. Wigler.

And while Wigler wished defendant Alan Faynzilberg, 20, success in eventually turning his life around, the judge was not as forgiving as Davila's family, and refused to reduce the 8-year sentence recommended by prosecutors in a deal that led to Faynzilberg's guilty plea earlier on June 26.

Faynzilberg was jailed for 10 months following the incident, then released, but has been back in custody since the prior week, when he turned himself in on what was supposed to be his original sentencing date.

Pietro Davila, 59, of Jersey City, was one of three people who made victim impact statements. But rather than condemning Faynzilberg, DaVila expressed compassion for the young defendant, who stood to the side of the courtroom in prison garb, with his hands cuffed.

"I feel content, because we are Christian," Davila said through an interpreter. Turning to Faynzilberg, he added, "This young man, Alan, on my behalf I forgive him."

The victim's sister, Giselle Davila, was equally compassionate, telling Faynzelberg, "I hope that when you complete your sentence, you change your life for the better."

Assistant Prosecutor Betty Rodriguez said during the hearing that Faynzilberg admitted using alcohol, marijuana and the tranquilizer Xanax prior to the crash. She told the judge that in that and prior arrests for drug-related offenses, Faynzilberg had repeatedly shown "a complete disregard for the law."

With his lawyer, William Fitzsimmons, at his side, Faynzilberg made an emotional plea for leniency.

"Let me express my deepest and most sincere apologies for May 27, 2016," Faynzilberg said, sobbing at that point and others during the hearing.

"I'm sure it was sincere," said Wigler, the presiding criminal judge in Essex County.

That said, Wigler told Faynzilberg that, under his plea deal, the prosecutor's office had already agreed to downgrade the vehicular homicide charge against him from first degree to second degree, sparing him several years in prison under sentencing guidelines.

Wigler added that Faynzilberg's prior record included two drug arrests, one in which he avoided a criminal conviction by being accepted into a pre-trial intervention program, or PTI, on April 15, 2016 -- just six week before the drug-fueled crash that killed Luis Davila.

"What's concerning is you don't learn from your past mistakes," Wigler told Faynzilberg. "And a family was destroyed."

A friend of the Faynzilberg, Alexandra Roth, made a statement on his behalf, assuring the court that he would have the loving support of his family to help him overcome his drug dependence and reintegrate him into society upon his release.

"The level of remorse that he felt was not of the kind, 'What's going to happen to me?' but truly of the magnitude of what happened," Roth said.

4y

[kitpanthera]

me when there's a new chapter

i loved it SO much! thank you for your amazing work on the fic 💚💚 because i'm insane, i do have some questions but no pressure to answer any/all of them!

1. the cabin expanding to include bedrooms -- is that because of bill seeing dipper as a permanent feature? like, you only give someone a bedroom because they'll be with you for awhile. it also makes the cabin more "homey" (they're building a real home together!) rather than somewhere they just spend time together.

2. "your parents are coming to town in about four days," bill told him, moving his pawn. -- an ironic moment or does bill have more to do with their parents than currently alluded to?

3. "i don't." dipper agreed. "but i like you." - someone keeping bill around despite not being needed anymore,,, someone who likes him and wants him around,,, wailing rn. but i could see that shifting how he interacts with ford later on!

4. did dipper actually just talk stan into going to greasy's or was that more persuasion? if dipper just asked without persuasion,,, stan just wanting to spend more time with dipper, especially with their parents coming 😭

5. does stan (currently) realize that dipper used persuasion on him? or is it unnoticeable to the person it's being cast on until someone points it out? (me when there's a magic system to analyze ‼️‼️)

6. DIPPER NOT BEING ABLE TO PASS THROUGH THE BARRIER ‼️

more things to use to get ford to give up the equation, i guess?

7. ford correcting dipper's grammar and then not commenting on the fact that no one noticed for weeks that bill was possessing dipper,,, 👊👊👊 i will hit an old man idc. could've been a great "i know what you're going through because he also did that to me" moment and you FUMBLED THE BALL, FORD.

8. dipper not being able to see ford's eyes until after he's spoken about his relationship with bill!!! "the kind of care i felt was absent from my own life" ford, i know what you are. and then dipper immediately manipulating him afterwards 💀💀💀

9. THEY BOTH LIGHT THE FIRE AT THE SAME TIME ‼️‼️ THEY'RE BOTH BRINGING WARMTH AND HOPE TO THE RELATIONSHIP ‼️ fire also being seen as a symbol of resurrection and rebirth,,, plus as a connection between humans and gods since it's the only element we can make on our own,,, having Thoughts.

10. "nervous looks from all three present" is stan looking at him nervously because they've finally told him what's going on? i know he doesn't know at the beginning of the chapter, but they could've brought him in after the failed road trip,,, or is it because he knows their parents are almost here?

11. dipper being out most of the day -- is this the day that he told ford he would stay inside or was there a time jump?

12. "you clearly never loved each other." my mind immediately went to, "did they just get married because natalie got pregnant with the twins?"

13. "neil almost looked like he was glaring at him." dipper seeing things that aren't there, neil being upset about not being told about the grunkles, he's reaching to mabel's comment, he didn't want to take dipper, or a secret other option?

14. is natalie's boyfriend being named steve a pyramid steve joke 😭 also, she moved on quick if she's already moving in with the guy! or potential cheating? 👀

15. since ford tried to stop dipper from following mabel but doesn't run after them, does he get busy trying to stop stan from killing the pines parents? or does he follow but just can't keep up?

16. mabel isn't surprised that bill is possessing dipper,,, did ford tell her after the kitchen confrontation OR after dipper told him that he had been possessed for weeks and no one noticed?

17. while outlining his deal with mabel, bill refers to dipper as "your brother" and "pine tree." is that to establish the difference between dipper and "your brother" (him pre-gravity falls) and "pine tree" (part of the zodiac that could defeat him)?

18. me when bill says the name of the fic in the fic "a clean slate, take two, you won't remember a thing"

19. with bill and dipper being able to interact in the real world, do you think they'll bond over music more? there is bill's cut song from weirdmageddon and he sings to ford later on. plus him playing the piano and dipper canonically playing the sousaphone,,, the town storms the fearamid to save the day just to walk in on a jam fest. 🎶

20. in the show, i don't think the zodiac symbols mean a ton, they're just the symbols characters happen to wear at some point (like pacifica) or that "represent their personality" like wendy with the ice. the team did have to scramble at the last minute to make the zodiac mean something as a pay off to fans! but do the symbols (at least for dipper and mabel) mean more in your fic? shooting stars can be symbols of romance, love, and extraordinary feelings, but they also are only fleeting moments. everyone gets excited when you get to see them because they're so rare, while ignoring the stars that are right in front of us all the time because we're so used to them being there. but shooting stars also aren't real stars! despite naming them that way, they only catch on fire because of the friction they experience while passing by... dipper and his connection with the stars while his sister is literally symbolized by a fake star...

pine trees are stubborn, strong, and fight to survive. they're resilient and symbols of immortality and steadiness due to their ability to survive in so many climates. but they're also symbols of spiritual communication and inner sight,,, with burning pine as an offering of food to deities and dipper referring to weirdmageddon as a forrest fire,,,

trees are rooted in the ground while shooting stars fly overhead... i mentioned it earlier with dipper's "if this is a con, then i deserve to fall for it" comment but "if a pine tree falls in a forest and the only one around to hear it is the interdimensional demon who spent weeks uprooting it until it finally falls, does it make a sound?"

thank you sm!! so excited for next week. the party can't come soon enough. (mentally throwing hands with dippy fresh already) 🎉

I'm so so glad you're enjoying so much!!

1. The nature of the cabin shall later be explained! :)

2. Bill did not technically have any sway over the parents coming to town, but it doesn't mean he can't use them nonetheless!

3. Yes! Dipper makes it a point to quite often remind Bill that he actually likes him.

4. Up to interpretation :)

5. So generally, the person doesn't know persuasion magic is being used on them unless they're specifically told it's possible, and they choose to believe it. It also doesn't work on someone who doesn't trust the magic user (at least, not at Dipper's level of use he's taught himself).

6. We shall see how it goes :)

7. Ford's complete lack of real emotional intelligence is one of his downfalls for sure! He fumbled the ball and fumbled it hard, partly because he's so embarrassed and partly for other reasons... To be revealed. :)

8. :)

9. This fire is my ultimate symbol of their entire bond and relationship... I love fire symbolism, gotta be one of my favorite literary symbols

10. Stan is nervous because of the parents coming, and he knows how rough the coming conversation will be, and he especially knows how angsty Dipper is, and is nervous for his reaction.

11. Same day he promised to stay inside! Between Ford and Bill, he listened to Bill's orders :)

12. Yes, actually! They basically had a super toxic, on and off relationship until Natalie got pregnant, then they both decided "eh, guess we'll get married then" and went from there.

13. Who knows? Perks of an unreliable narrator :)

14. Yes, the name came to mind because of him! 😂 She was definitely having an affair.

15. Neil and Natalie insisted he stay and tell them what all happened, and Stan sort of made him stay.

16. A secret third option :)

17. It's partly a distinction, Bill saying "your brother" to remind her of exactly what she wanted him to be, and saying "Pine Tree" to remind her who he's become!

18. Very intentional wording here! :)

19. We shall see! I like to think they'll be as musical as they want to be, with no one to stop them.

20. Oh yes!! The thing with Shooting Star just being a fleeting comet everyone adores and looks forward to, but the constellations being barely a second thought to most people... Definitely tried to play on that with Mabel getting all the attention and Dipper getting dismissed. With the wood in the fire being a symbol, Dipper using a forest fire as a metaphor, being stubborn and unwavering, all very intentional wood and tree allusions!

Can't wait to start the party next week!

[tavyliasin]

ATG 8 - Ally? Lover

In which two minds meet...

Pairing: Emperor/Tav (And Guardian/Tav) SPICE Rating: 4.5/5 if this is your jam Content Warnings:  Sex, TENTACLES, Mild Bondage, Mindreading, Mindflayer, 

Spoilers Act 3, Guardian/Emperor "Romance" Canon Compliance Canon Compliant - I took a basis from the game scene and expanded it to include the Guardian form along with the Emperor, even though in the game you only sleep with one or the other. Other Notes (From the original release) This chapter is very skippable if you're not down to go to monster town, and that's completely cool you aren't missing much story development beyond conversation that mirrors the one in-game. I tailored it a bit more to fit this Tav better and how I saw that they could believably connect. Yes I tried to make the Mindflayer-fucking chapter emotionally real. The game made it sound appealing. In its own way. I took this as a challenge, and also felt it would be weird to leave it out from the ATG story as a whole. Particularly I feel at this point Tav has been through so many unimaginable horrors she might as well indulge in some unimaginable pleasures too. This will be the *ONLY* Emperor chapter though, because I'll be honest whilst it was fun to write over 4,000 words somehow, I am somewhat more fond of our other pairings so they'll get priority, unless you make demands then I'll probably cave and do another. Oh and I forgot to find space for the line "your tadpole squirms in recognition" and I don't really want to try and edit it in awkwardly, so, here, and sorry!

Song/Mood Find Life by Amaranthe "And you cannot deny What I have sacrificed An unsuspecting side of you A blackened paradise Feel the corruption rise A billion souls adrift But life can save us. Come and you'll find The temptation of human desire Rise, high, Come, find life."

----- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT -----

Tav paused. She began to rewind and replay all of the events that had lead her to this moment, this choice, a hundred pathways all converging… They had fought intense battles, finally left the shadow cursed lands behind them to make the final march to Baldur’s Gate, and then everything was turned upside down again before they even made it to the outskirts of the city. A week ago a portal had opened in the middle of the night, angry gith fighters pouring into their camp. The insistent voice of the Guardian begging them to rush through the portal impossible to ignore… Everything had only become more overwhelmingly shocking since then. Before the dawn had broken that morning, they had discovered that the Guardians they had all seen within the prism were merely illusions . The one truly keeping them safe was a fucking mindflayer and an imprisoned Gith Prince of Legend. The very same Mindflayer who was sat beside her now, half dressed, and Gods, is he giving me bedroom eyes? His pale lilac skin glistened in the eerie light around them, not entirely unlike a thin sheen of sweat or oil on more humanoid skin.What he’d said moments ago was true. They had searched his old hideout beneath the city, found many of his belongings and she had spoken with him - such as she could, with his voice echoing in her mind - about the memories that were stored alongside them. Weapons and armour they were free to use, trinkets that he had kept as souvenirs of his time in the city, mementos from what sounded like a lover… Finally she had begun to feel they were on more equal footing. The Emperor, as he called himself, was far more interesting than she could have imagined. “Are you suggesting…?” She wasn’t even sure how to finish the question. “Only if you are willing,” the voice spoke without breath, as if a thought in her own head, “and there is no need to rush.”Tav could feel his mind reaching out in the space between them, a sense of lust sparking beneath the ethereal stars of his realm. “I’m…not sure.” She said, hesitating more. “It’s not a no , but…” “You forget, Tavylia, that I know you. I know your heart, your mind.” He tentatively pressed his mind a little further towards her, a warmth and kindness emanating from him now alongside the intoxicating undercurrent of desire. 

“Then you remember my past, too? I am…open to you looking closer, if you wish.” She willed her memories to open like a book, inviting him in.

“No need, dear one, I have seen it like a play on a stage before me. Your mother’s back, laden with weapons, the sad smile in her eyes as she walked out of the door to face some greater foe from her past. Your father’s tears as he read the letter, your hopelessness as you watched the illness overtake his broken heart. The emptiness of the small home, and your own face in the mirror, barely in your teens and completely alone. Why do you think of such things now? I did not intend to remind you of anything painful.”“In your disguise, you walked those same streets. You had your people working within them, trying to make things safer, trying to save everyone. Yet…some of us you could not save.” Aside from her own memories, another that had touched her mind sprang unbidden to her consciousness. Astarion, bleeding out in the street, and the false saviour who had arrived before him.

“It is…regretful, that not everyone can be saved. But you know this already, do you not? No matter how hard you fought there was always some tragedy that slipped through your fingers, a body you couldn’t find whilst it still drew breath, sometimes just a few seconds too late.” The voice in her mind softened. Sympathy. Empathy. “You see, we aren’t so different. I am relieved it was you who ended up with the prism, who found my home, you who I have grown…close to.” The Emperor sidled a little closer, studying her face for any sign of discomfort, and laying his large hand over hers.

“Chance, perhaps. It could have been anyone, really. It seems like half my life is decided by some random roll of the dice from someone else’s hand.” She almost laughed at the absurdity. “What else do you see in that? Maybe by now you know me better than myself.”

“Perhaps I could, but there is a small corner you keep locked away…”

“Some memories deserve to stay buried,” she lied, a half truth as she firmly locked away just a small part of her plans with a random dark moment from her past that didn’t hurt nearly as much as she needed him to believe. “Then it would be unkind of me to pry.” Tav felt his mind withdraw from that place, just slightly. “But as for what I see in you… Contradictions, hesitation, but above all there is a passion within you.” The heat of his own desire began to wash over her now, along with a comforting wave of compassion. “You are…not what I expected. Not what anyone expects, I should wager.” “Isn’t life more exciting with a little of the unexpected?” Tav grinned, beginning to make up her mind. The prospects were enticing, after all. Sleeping with a vampire, flirting with a fiend… Just what would it be like to be with someone who knows every one of my thoughts and desires?“Indeed.” The Emperor growled within her mind, moving a little closer still. “I’m well aware of your rules, your agreements with your vampire lover, and I do not think you can truly deny what is between us now. I even know those thoughts you have about the fiend, though I’d advise not indulging in that particular curiosity.”

“Just as you ask me to indulge in this one?” She kept him on edge, not quite allowing him sure footing. That was the plan buried in the last unexplored corner of her mind, a simple part of her rule of surviving. Always stay aware, trust is proven with time not words, and having the upper hand could often be reassuring even if it never needed to be used. She couldn’t deny that she felt the desire, the curiosity, and to be honest after everything she had survived she was at the point of throwing caution into whichever wind blew her way. Yet, still, if she could get him to drop his defenses, let her in entirely, then should their goals no longer align she might at least have a weakness to exploit. Tav would prefer not to have to be so underhanded, but she knew that some part of him would well understand the finely honed instinct, sharpened over decades on unkind streets, the whetstone of hardship leaving her with a keen blade of wit.

“I won’t ask any more of you than you are willing.” The Emperor pulled back now and stood up, offering a hand to help her to her feet. “You can move away at any time, should you wish, and if a word might make you feel safer then even the thought of the word Orpheus will halt us in a moment.”

“Isn’t that a little…close to home?” “No stranger than Angel for your beloved vampire.” “Touche.”

“Or perhaps, now, touch?” The illithids tentacles moved slightly, the shape of his eyes making the full expression look somewhat akin to a smile. Or at least whatever passed for a smile from a Mindflayer.  Stepping towards the Emperor, Tav soon realised her feet were no longer on the ground. True to his word, she could still will herself to move freely so she could still leave if she wanted. But where would the fun be in that? She drifted closer to him, tentatively laying a hand on his shoulder, caressing the ridges of muscle and skin. This was…not how she imagined things would ever go. But it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It looked like he would be completely cold, but there was a warmth beneath his skin. She leaned in towards him naturally as the distance between them narrowed, until she realised - where the fuck am I supposed to kiss? She flipped quickly through her memories like an index, looking for a clue. Ah…that was it…his mouth was somewhere behind the tentacles. Shit. Plan B.

Tav was at a disadvantage. The Emperor had been able to see all of her romantic entanglements and desires, likely knew plenty of ways to entice and excite a humanoid body, but in all her adventures after dark she had not once been so close to a mindflayer. He did not reach forward to her, but instead allowed her the time to begin to know his form. He was lithe, tall, perhaps “gangly” would be an accurate, if unkind, word for his body. But she kept in mind, it was still a body. Nerves and sensations would not be so different, if she could find the right thing to do. That was the one advantage she was realising she had, as her hands felt along his arms, across his chest beneath the tentacles, and around his back. She was beginning to sense exactly how he was feeling. The shiver of pleasure passed between them like a thought as she found one sensitive point along…well, where a collarbone might be, if he were not an illithid. Floating above the ground was also freeing them to the experience completely. No hard rocks beneath them, no obstacles in the way, the only touch they could feel was each other. For now, they had stopped talking. Communication was coming purely from contact, as Tav gently began to take one of the tentacles into her hand, running her fingers along the appendage. The Emperor shuddered, the air almost sparkling with the feeling conveyed from his mind. That , it seemed, was good for him.

Emboldened by the discovery, along with realising that his skin - and indeed the tentacles - did not feel quite so…unusual, as she had expected. Every body had its quirks, after all, from pointed ears to ridged skin, shapes and sizes of all kinds, rainbows of colour and beautiful variety to indulge in. His body was smooth and taught, tense, textured, but not at all unpleasant. The tentacles themselves were clearly sensitive, a slight audible rumble coming for once from the Emperor’s throat rather than directly into Tav’s mind. His eyes closed briefly, exhaling a long and shuddering sigh, the blazing pink tones almost glowing brighter than before when he looked back at her again. The patience had paid off for him, Tav realised, but had now worn away. Still, he was remarkably gentle as he gradually slid one of the tentacles behind her neck. It didn’t feel so dissimilar to a hand or an arm, the flexible appendage caressing her hair and the pointed tips of her ears.

Tav sighed herself now, the touch was building the intensity between them, their minds melding ever closer. Another tentacle wrapped over her shoulder, the third around her waist pulling her tightly against him, leaving only the forth still in her hand where she could continue to trace shapes with her fingers, occasionally stroking or massaging the muscled limb. The Emperor’s own hands moved to her hips, sliding down a little to take a firm hold of her rear, long nails digging in just enough for her to feel as he pulled her body even closer against his own. The tender and careful touch of the Emperor was almost close to romantic, a sensation which Tav might have found surprising if their thoughts weren’t melting into each other just as much as their flesh wanted to. But this was where she began to feel at a loss again. Her own clothes were being gradually unfastened, skin exposed, every point she had ever wished to be touched entirely encompassed by the myriad of limbs. Fingers and tentacles alike dextrous in raising the desire within her, his own passionate feelings swimming through her mind. “Is something…wrong?” His voice resounded quietly in her thoughts now, almost a whisper. Of course he could sense her hesitation again. The touch that had been surrounding her fell away as he allowed them to drift apart, glowing eyes observing her carefully. “It is…this form. Too unfamiliar.”

“No…Yes… A little. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, I’m not used to…”

“I could, if you desire, take any form you wish.” Glowing eyes twinkled with promise.

“Isn’t this what you want, how you are now?” Tav pondered the possibilities… Any form at all, that wasn’t something you could experience every day, but then wouldn’t it be insulting? She knew what to do with a more humanoid body, though…

“Perhaps,” he suggested, “we could consider both to be an option. There might not be many nights left before we must face the final battle, but this single night has more than one hour in it.”“Then…” She paused again. “I have one rule. Never the form of any of my companions. Never anyone I know.”

“Maybe,” he took one of her hands in his, “you might like the form you knew me in before?”

His free hand gestured a slight motion, and his illithid form shimmered and transformed into the stunning Tiefling she remembered from when they first met. “How did you decide on this body? When you first came to my dreams.”

“It was simple,” the Emperor - or rather, the Guardian - spoke with an audible voice now that there was a tongue to form words and lips to express them, “I looked into your own mind just briefly. I chose a body you might find to be…appealing.”

“You…were not wrong.” Tav took a moment to appreciate them, peering at every inch of their barely dressed body still floating in the air. They were a Tiefling, rich purple toned skin, deep pink hue in their hair and eyes, skin with a few pale marks of vitiligo like a map of beauty to her eyes. Their voice was warm, soft, and though their form leaned more masculine they were beyond any concept of gender. Perhaps it was the same for the Emperor, after all Mindflayers had no concept of gender or genitalia though he had always claimed a masculine title and pronouns for himself, a way to be perhaps more like the people he wished to live amongst?...

“Come closer, dear one,” they spoke softly, but didn’t close the gap themselves, leaving it as an invitation when she was ready, “we can stay like this until you feel more comfortable.”

Tav willed her body towards theirs, the heat between them rising anew. This would be easier, for now, and their body was so very enticing. The curls of their hair fell like a waterfall from between the horns that rose from their forehead, they even had the appearance of wearing flawless makeup that almost shimmered.

When their lips met, she was reminded of all those dreams, the strange warrior promising protection yet holding so many secrets from her. There were no secrets now, their minds opening fully to each other - besides that small corner she locked away - absorbed in the connection. Floating higher above the ground they could move completely freely, the touch of more familiar hands was becoming intoxicating. It was relieving for Tav to be able to hear the soft moans from her strange partner, a more familiar reaction to her advances as she grew bolder, hotter, allowing the desire to flow through her like waves crashing against the shore. The Guardian, as it was easier to think of them in this moment, this form, had fully undressed her now, clothes fluttering to the ground below. All that remained of their own clothes was the thin silk wrap that only partially covered their chest and hips. Tav decided to leave this on, finding it in some way more enticing to see with her hands now than her eyes. Their lips barely parted, legs entwining, arms wrapped around each other as they tasted the heat of the kiss. When she had drawn close to the Emperor, Tav had noted the scent of vanilla and garlic - it wasn’t something she thought would ever be an appealing combination, but it was a flavour now that she decidedly wanted more of as it was still present from the Guardian… Her Guardian, as they were giving themselves fully to her in this moment. She moaned audibly as nimble fingers found their way between her legs, touching, stroking, a gentle but insistent lust behind every motion. Her own hand traversed their body, taking in every muscle and curve, seeking the same places to draw out their arousal with her own. There was an intensity with every motion they made, every exploration of each other’s most sensitive points bringing forth a fresh harmony from within, the sounds of their voices melding together as the line between where one ended and the other began became even thinner. It was a dizzying high as they reached a release, far from the ground below, far from anything as their consciousness blended in ecstasy wrapped in each others arms until, breathlessly, they began to descend in more ways than one.

“How do you feel?” The Guardian asked, though they hardly needed to. Perhaps it was more a courtesy, perhaps a little of their own hesitance.

“I want you ,” Tav replied, “all of you, as you truly are. I think I understand, now.” “If you are certain,” they drifted slightly back again, just as their feet touched the floor, “then you may have … all of me, as I shall have all of you.” Their form changed mid sentence, their voice shifting to the telepathic link once more, but this time it felt more…comfortable. Enticing. In the binding of their minds, Tav had experienced something entirely beyond explanation, but she could tell that if she were willing to truly be with him then the night with the Emperor would be unforgettable, unique- “There are…other things we can do, if I am not spending my energy on maintaining the other body.” His eyes sparkled with a fresh glow, one hand lazily weaving patterns through the air as if drawing magic itself to his slender fingers.

“You know my mind, Emperor,” she replied, allowing some of her more…interesting thoughts to surface, “I will allow you to decide from here. Lead me, show me what you want, too.” That was more than enough invitation, the air almost pulsing with anticipation and a pure passion, their minds drawing each other in once more. He closed the gap between them in a single step, tentacles wrapping around her in an embrace using his arms to break the fall as he pressed them to the ground together. “The tentacles…do not cause you concern?” he enquired, even as they caressed every part of her upper body, drawing yet quicker breaths from her lungs. “Different,” she managed to whisper, “is not bad.” “Then…relax.” Comfort laced with desire radiated in her mind, now accompanied by the feeling of the spell he wove around them. “Evard’s Black Tentacles, perhaps you might feel my use of this magic to be somewhat ironic, but I assure you that you will not be harmed. Merely…held.”The magical tentacles rose from the ground beneath them, transforming the stone floor into a living mass. Some wove themselves akin to a bed beneath Tav’s back, but a few others began to coil around her limbs. Were their minds not so wholly linked, she would’ve expected to feel danger, but instead there was only the pure intention filling her consciousness. The word, should she think or speak it, would melt them away in an instant, but the possibilities....

Some hours later, Tav would hesitate with her quill above the page, unsure how much of this particular story she was willing to tell, but in the moment…her entire being was carried away in a flood of sensation. The spell’s tentacles coiled around her arms first, a firm pressure holding her as the next snaked their way up her ankles, moving her legs apart. The Emperor knelt over her, his own tentacles caressing her face, breasts, taking his time to touch every inch of her body while glowing eyes watched her expression with a renewed hunger.

Her eyes closed naturally, giving herself over entirely to the almost overwhelming feeling of being so utterly touched. Her body was a mass of sensation, nerves alight with the contact that covered almost every inch of achingly oversensitive flesh, her mind awash with the flood of feelings from the Emperor’s own. There truly was no space left between them in body or in thought, nothing separating the ebb and flow of pure pleasure. It was hard for her even to tell which tentacles were from the spell and which were his own, as they caressed and massaged muscles she hadn’t realised were sorely in need of the careful release of tense knots.

And then there was the tentacle drifting up her thigh, and she found herself urging it to continue, to keep mapping the nerves towards her core. She felt a little amusement from the Emperor as he held back, teasing her to the brink of madness before pressing inside. Stars burst in her mind, the flexible appendage moving in all the right ways within her.

It was nothing like she could have imagined, being so utterly smothered by senses all around her, body completely and wholly held, taken, lifted to dizzying heights of pleasure. He knew everything she wanted, everything she desired, reading her mind like an open instruction manual on every thought that passed through willing him onwards. Wave after wave of orgasms cascaded through not just her body, but her entire sense of being. It was perhaps different for him, but she felt some similar shudders of pleasure, shivers vibrating through his tentacles as he gave neither of them pause to draw breath.

She pressed forward a simple wish, to let her have more of him, and he was more than happy to provide it, bringing the tip of a tentacle to caress her lips. Perhaps they could not kiss as they could with the Guardian’s welcoming lips, but she was familiar enough with how her own lips and tongue might express something similar.

Tav kissed the soft skin, tasting again that strange blend of vanilla and garlic, inviting the tip between parted lips. She felt his mind shudder within her own, as close as one might get to a moan of sheer desire, and began to work her lips and tongue around him to draw out yet more from within him.

It was…intoxicating. To be utterly surrounded, filled, a hundred nerves shooting lightning messages through her entire body with two simple words - fuck,yes.

Time dissolved away, every thought beyond the absolute desire banished to some other realm as they fully indulged in every sensation they could tease from one another. By the time they finally lay still, the tentacles receding beneath them as the spell faded away, their minds finally parted.

Tav had felt such a rush, the heat of the moment carrying her almost entirely out of her body yet keeping her rooted within it with the unending touch. Now they were parted, laying beside one another, she wasn’t quite sure what to do, how to feel. It was clear that what the Emperor felt for her was beyond the animal lust that had consumed her own soul, but her heart remained firmly with her lover.

Astarion, she thought to herself quietly, I’m not quite sure you’re ready to hear about this one.

“You should return soon and rest, dear one. The work must start anew come morning.” The Emperor was clearly more concerned about returning to business now, their shared goal in defeating the Absolute would not disappear in a single night of...sex? That was perhaps the closest word, though not entirely accurate. Either way, it wouldn’t buy them any more time, either. Their arrival in the city had already been filled with more unavoidable tasks, a new set of crises that she seemed destined to resolve with her strange group of allies.

“Ahem.” A voice sounded from several metres away. Wait, the Emperor speaks in my mind, and he’s laying right-Tav looked up. A shimmering portal crackled in the air, the silhouette of several figures against it.

“I am sorry, dear one, I promised I would protect you, but I cannot shield you from your connection to them. And I was…distracted.” The Emperor sounded apologetic, and Tav realised with growing horror exactly what this meant.

Gale’s voice cut between them again. “I’m not going to judge you, but can we all come to an agreement to never speak of this as long as we all shall live?”

The silhouettes beside him nodded silently and retreated through the portal, as Tav quickly gathered her clothes from where they had fallen across the area, feeling far more exposed than she had ever intended.

Fuck. She thought. That was… Fuck.

---Even as she tried to sleep back in her bedroll, the image of her companions standing there was burned into the backs of her eyes. Fucking tadpole. She rolled over again, pulling the blanket closer around her shoulders. Still…that was… She didn’t quite finish the thought, but she knew she didn’t entirely regret the experience. Though she did promise herself it would not be one to repeat. A willing audience was one thing, perhaps, and though she was fairly certain the others didn’t sense the details, they knew who she had been with that night. Even just catching them laying there naked in the afterglow was likely far more than any of them ever wished to witness.

Agreed, Gale, we shall never speak of this. She glanced at the diary. But I might as well write about it. For posterity.

Several times she would consider tearing out those pages, setting fire to them, and erasing the existence of the ashes that remained…but she never did, that lingering yet sated curiosity staying her hand every time.

----------- ----------- ENDING NOTES ----------- ----------- My original end note to this was "I see this chapter as a challenge. The game made the option sound appealing, and I can't deny either that it raised the idea of a bunch of possibilities, so join me as we explore a few of them, dear one, if you so desire~" I...sorry loves I can't deny it any longer, those were a lot of interesting possibilities. And honestly as I repost these I do have some regret to sharing a pseud with Tav's full name - at the time it seemed fun, but the more Tavylia has become part of my identity the stranger it is to use those mentions as ATG's Tav who has just been "Tav" to me for a long time now. I also wrote this prior to finishing the game and before I'd gone back to find Abdirak (I missed him the first time!) so I think "dear one" came either from the dialogue scene or just something that felt right at the time for his term of endearment, so I do apologise to Abdirak fans. I will make it up to all of you~

Oh, and this was my Guardian and I love them~

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Bruce Wayne x Female!Reader

Title: “Bringing Me Out of the Darkness.”

Pairings: Bruce Wayne (Battinson) and female reader

Warnings: Mentions of depression, mood swings, and anger.

—————-

Bruce felt like his life was mostly consumed of darkness. His parents being killed right in front of him, messed him up in more ways than he could count. He was traumatized, he was frustrated with himself; he could have stopped it.

That was what he remembered every year that marked the anniversary of their death. Bruce was reminded year after year, month after month, week after week, and day after day: “I could have done something. Anything. There could have been more that I could have done.”

And if anyone tried to tell him differently, he would get mad. Boy, was Bruce filled with anger. He couldn’t remember a day he was happy. Not until he met you.

Before then, there was no use in trying to remember what true happiness felt like. But that anger was still there, he felt it every night when he was protecting Gotham, he felt it when he would be fighting a criminal. He felt it randomly at night, in the morning, and even when he felt content, the anger would creep its way in. The depression would set in at random points in the day or month; he would be content and happy, and his mood would change entirely.

He always told Alfred that no one would want to deal with his erratic emotion changes, and yet, here you were. Five months in, and you hadn’t run away, or left him because of it.

One night, in particular, was hard on Bruce. It had been twenty years since the death of his parents. He watched the clock tick to the exact time, at which they died; 8:28 PM. He was on a building looking down at the city of Gotham, and he could feel the tears sting his eyes.

He was 32 years old, and still in pain from his parent's death. The anxiety, the brokenness he felt inside, took the air from his lungs, making him collapse to the ground. Bruce had to go back home; he couldn’t stand another second in the filth that filled Gotham’s streets.

When he had gotten back to the manor, he didn't even bother to undress out of his suit. Instead, he trudged up the stairs, and went into the bedroom he shared with you. He could hear you singing in the shower, and he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the bathroom door.

You were this bright, ball of sunshine, and he felt like the dark clouds that would ruin a perfectly beautiful day. He prayed and hoped that he would never drag you down into the darkness with him.

He didn't know how long he sat there in his thoughts, nor did he ever hear the shower turn off. But when he looked up, you were standing in the bathroom doorway with a blush pink babydoll nightgown on. Your wet hair was wrapped in a towel, and Bruce hadn't seen anything more perfect in his life.

His eyes followed down your body. "Bruce, are you okay?" you questioned. When he didn't answer, you slowly approached him; his cowl was still on and you took it off, setting it on the night stand.

Bruce's hair was sweaty and messy from the cowl. Your hands ran through his hair, and Bruce leaned into your touch. You knew it was the anniversary of his parent's death, so you sat down on his thigh. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you cradled him into your body.

The very town his parents tried to help and fix, took his parents away from him. Bruce questioned out loud, “Why do I protect the city that will never change?”

Your hand went to the chest of his suit, and it hovered over where his heart was. Warmth spread through Bruce's body as your index finger lifted up his chin so you could look into his eyes. When his eyes met yours, your forehead rested on his; your words came out like silk:

"Because of this.” You said while rubbing over his heart. “You protect it because you want it to be a better place, Bruce. You're protecting those who are not able to protect themselves. You give people hope. You are being the person you wished was there for you when you were in that alleyway." you whispered that last part.

He knew you were always stepping on eggshells around him. He knew you never wanted to say the wrong thing, or hurt his feelings, or reopen old wounds. But you were right; the words you spoke were nothing but the truth, he had just forgotten why he did what he did.

"Why are you with me? How can you put up with me being like this all of the time?" he questioned. He hated this part of him; he always had to be reassured, but he couldn't help it. But you understood. You didn't get mad or judge him for it either.

Your nose brushed his, "I know this day is hard for you... I know life is a constant battle for you... But I am here, and I'm not leaving. I'm here as long as you want me to be here, because I want this, I want you, Bruce." he watched your lips as you spoke these words to him.

His breath got caught in his throat, when you hand caressed his cheek, "I love you, Bruce. I will love you on the good days and the really bad ones."

Bruce had finally felt the anger, the sadness, and the anxiety leave his body. He felt content and you leaned your head on his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck. "Thank you." he whispered with a breath of relief, and contentment.

When you laid down next to him on the bed, you wiped the black makeup from around his eyes with a makeup wipe. You pressed a kiss on his temple, then his forehead, under his eye, on his nose, and on his chin. Your lips were like a medication for Bruce, and when you pressed a kiss to lips, he held your face close.

He didn't want to pull away from you, so naturally the kiss deepened, and became more intimate. Bruce had never gotten this close to anyone before, and with you, he wanted to be closer. He had finally let you in, and he was glad he did.

Bruce hovered over you, and he leaned his forehead against yours, "Thank you, Y/N." He pressed a long kiss to your lips, "I-I love you." he whispered against your lips. And once more, he thanked you, "You are the light in my darkness." A smile broke across your face, and you pulled him back down to your lips.

That night, he didn't look at the clock to see the time. Normally, he would sit there and recall what he did every hour the night his family had died. He focused on you, and the future he wanted with you. He had to make Gotham a safer place for you. Bruce had to better himself for you, but more than anything, he wanted to be better for himself too.

When you had finally fallen asleep, Bruce watched you intently. His fingers gently pushed the hair from your face and whispered one last time: "Thank you for bringing me out of the darkness."

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I hope you guys enjoyed this! This is intended for the Battinson Bruce Wayne, but you can picture whichever version of Bruce you want. Feedback is always helpful! <3

[jpmarvel90]

Don't let me down - Part 9

Y/n's POV:

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Relationship: MamaScarlett x 16 yr old Reader

Summary: Whilst Y/n tries to distract herself from the impending court case with Mr Woodstock. She ends up having to face another hurdle she wasn't expecting.

Word count: 6993

Trying to focus on my schoolwork and soccer has been really hard since Danny came around and dropped the bomb that I'm likely going to have to testify against Mr Woodstock. Scarlett and Colin have been great and are supporting me more than I could ask. They're not pushing me, but they are there when I have my moments. I'm glad that I have them to go through this with.

When I told Laura, I've never seen her more angry. She started ranting about how unfair it is to make, not just me, but the other kids have to relive what we went through. She's spent a lot of time with me after school and I'm sure that her and Scarlett have been texting about me. Part of me is a little annoyed as I feel like I'm being watched, but then I'm grateful they care about me enough to check in with each other.

We had a meeting with the DA who is leading the case and he has confirmed that I will be asked a number of questions by himself and then the defence lawyer will have a chance to also question me. The thought of that terrifies me as I know that they are just going to try and prove me wrong or discredit my testimony. I've seen enough Law & Order SUV to know how it goes.

However, both Danny and the DA have assured me that they'll coach me in responding to the questions. I'll already know what they plan to ask me, so I'll be prepared from that point of view. However, we'll have no idea what the defence may say. So, we're going to do some sessions together where they'll prepare me as best they can.

Scarlett has tried to suggest that I do it via video link to give me an extra layer of protection, but I know that I want to be there. I can't bring my parents to justice for the years I spent being abused by them, but I can to Mr Woodstock. It's not just me he hurt and if I had the balls to do this earlier, I could have stopped the other kids getting hurt too.

When we left the DA's office, I felt dread over the upcoming court case. We have a month to prepare before I'll need to testify. Thankfully, I don't need to be there for anything else. It's one day and then hopefully they'll find him guilty, and I'll be able to move on and put my past firmly behind me. Allow me to focus on how my life is going to be better moving forward.

The sessions with Danny have been ok. He's predicted what he believes the defence may ask and then poses the question to me. We then work on how I can approach different elements. He also helps me to control my emotions and focus on breathing. Taking a breather is not a bad thing and will only reflect badly on the defence lawyer if he tries to move me on.

I think the sessions are helping, but I feel drained after every one. I cry in each one and I hate it. Reliving what happened is bad enough, but having to prepare to defend that I'm telling the truth is horrible. I just hope that this is all worth it.

Thankfully, we have our next soccer games this week and it's providing me with something to focus on. It's still hard to give me full attention, but I owe it to the team to still be the best player and captain that I can be. This week, Lizzie is joining Scarlett and Rose to watch. Unfortunately, Colin is working today so can't make it. Scarlett decided to leave Cosmo with Melanie so the three of them can enjoy the afternoon before coming to school to watch the game.

We're so far unbeaten this season. We had two preseason games that gave us a good platform to work from. But we've only play 5 league games. We're playing well and hopefully we'll be able to make it into the playoffs at the end of the year. But today's game will be the biggest test that we've had yet. Rochford High are a tough team and they are aggressive.

I use the warmup to get my mind completely on the game and make sure that I don't let it drift off to everything that is happening in my personal life. Laura is great at keeping me smiling as she jokes around, and we make sure our pre-game warm up doesn't change even though we're playing a tough team.

As we're taking on water, my eyes scan the bleachers, which are bursting tonight. It's like the whole local town has turned up. My eyes quickly land on my little sister who is jumping up and down and waving at me when she sees me looking. I wave back and pull a face at her whilst Lizzie and Scarlett wave to me also.

It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling to see them in the stands. I never thought I would have people here to support me. Scarlett has been to every one of my home games. She even rearranged work to come to the one of them. It makes me feel wanted and loved and it's a strange feeling for me. But I like it and I couldn't be more grateful to see them in the crowd.

Coach Saunders calls us into a huddle and gives us an inspiring team talk. I gulp when I have to follow him up, but I make sure to be confident and re-enforce our teamwork and we win together and lose together. With our huddle over, I make my way over to the referee for the coin toss. I shake their captain's hand and internally fist pump when we win the coin toss. I decide to kick off first and we take our places on the pitch waiting for the whistle to blow.

The game is frantic from the first whistle. As expected, they play hard and are hitting us off the ball a lot. We change our tactic to have quick and accurate passing, which works and starts to frustrate them. They end up fouling us a lot more and the ref warns them about their actions.

We take advantage of this when Laura is on the receiving end of a beautiful freekick from Bella. Even though she's tasselling with the defender, she's able to get up higher than her and her head meets the ball. I watch as it flies past the keeper and into the back of the net.

The crowd go wild as we rush around Laura and Bella, cheering the perfect set piece. "I'm proud of you babe." I tell her as we walk back to our side of the pitch for the restart, my arm draped over her shoulder. "I need to keep impressing you." She smirks, nudging me. "Consider me impressed." I return, moving to take my spot.

We manage to dominate the first half but don't get any more goals. We've been able to adapt our play to make their efforts ineffective. We can see that it's just frustrating them more and that carries on into the second half. We're getting so many shots on goal but we're just not getting it in the net.

They manage to catch us on the counterattack, and I rush back to provide support in defence, with a well time sliding tackle I dispossess their striker as she's about to take her shot on goal. I quickly jump to my feet and sprint down the pitch to get myself into an open position.

Seeing I'm in open space, I call for the ball and trap it with my foot. Looking up I see it's just me against two defenders, my team still getting back into position from the counterattack. Not wasting anytime, I take on the first defender, getting around her with ease.

I look up hoping to see someone in the box, but I'm still the furthest up the field. With a swift nudge to the ball, I megs the final defender and run around her, despite her efforts to stop me getting to the ball. Just as she tugs my t-shirt, I manage to get a good connection with the ball and watch as it sails into the top corner. Though I'm now on the floor as a result of the shirt tug.

This doesn't stop the team celebrating with me, bundling on me on the floor. With our celebration over, Laura holds her hand out to me to help me back to my feet. "You just had to one up me didn't you." She teases. "Maybe I want to impress you too." I wink at her as she shakes her head at my antics. As I'm moving back for the restart, I look to the crown and wave to Rose who's still cheering. She really is my biggest fan, and she looks adorable in our team jersey.

With our energy up, we just seem to get better. With our third goal, the pressure seems to disappear and we're playing more freely. When we win a freekick near the corner flag, I'm on the hunt for a second goal. I'm stood on the edge of the box and hold my hands in the air to indicate the play we should go for.

As the ball is crossed into the box, I run in and go to jump to try and get my head on the ball. Their defender goes up with me, but I see her elbow wind back as she jumps. She's not looking at the ball and I'm helpless as I watch her elbow move towards my face. For a split second I feel pain as she makes a connection, but it soon disappears as I fade into darkness.

Scarlett's POV:

This is the best that I've seen the team play. They're working as a cohesive group and seem to be able to counter anything the other team throw at them. I'm so proud when Y/n scores and the three of us cheer along with the rest of the crowd as the team celebrate.

Y/n had talked about how difficult this game was going to be. The opposition are probably one of the only teams that can match their ability, but they just don't seem to be able to break the team down. Instead of regrouping they're just getting more frustrated.

It's great seeing the smile on Y/n's face. I've not seen her smile like that in a while since we learnt about the court case. Soccer has always brought her happiness and I'm glad it's giving her an outlet today.

The team get ready for another freekick, and it seems certain that it's only a matter of time before they score again. My eyes are on my daughter as the anticipation builds. However, when I see an elbow collide with her face, I'm instantly out of my seat shouting for a foul.

However, I instantly freeze when I see Y/n on the floor not moving, her leg bent in an awkward angle. "Lizzie, watch Rose." I call out as I rush down the stairs of the bleachers and jump over the railing. Coach Saunders sees me and waves me over as he's knelt down next to my unconscious daughter.

As I reach her, I can hear the team arguing with the ref and a couple of them scuffling with the other team, mainly the defender that hit her. "Is she ok?" I ask, panic filling my voice as I kneel down next to her. Laura on one side holding her hand tightly. My eyes look over her and I see blood on her face from her nose. My eyes then move down to her leg, and I have to fight back tears. "She fell awkwardly and landed on her leg as she didn't have control over her body." Coach Saunders explains, moving so I can get in closer.

Fear overrides me as I'm desperate for my daughter to wake up. "We've called 911 and they should be here shortly." One of the assistant coaches calls out. "Y/n baby, wake up for me please." I beg her, my hands gently cupping her face. "Come on sweetheart." I encourage her, hoping that she might start to stir. My eyes flick to Laura who's watching on with teary eyes.

I move my hand and place it over hers that is already holding Y/n's. "She's going to be ok right?" Laura asks, looking up to me hopefully. "Of course she is. She's strong." I reassure her, though I'm scared myself. Thankfully, we don't have to wait for long for the ambulance to arrive and almost simultaneously, Y/n starts to stir awake. "Y/n, sweetie. It's Scarlett are you ok?" I ask her as her eyes fill with fear. "Mom?" She whispers, making my heart clench at the name. I don't let it get to me and focus on her. "I'm here baby. You're ok. The paramedics are here." I tell her and she nods.

She obviously starts to feel the pain and she starts to cry out. "It's ok babe. You're going to be fine. They'll get you some good stuff soon." Laura tries to joke through her own tears. The paramedics soon join us, and we reluctantly have to move out of the way as they treat her.

I take a moment to breathe and notice the referee brandish a red card to the defender that hit her. I have to fight from going over to the kid and giving her a piece of my mind. But I have to remember she is just that. A kid. "Mommy! Is Y/n, ok?" Rose calls out to me. I glance to Y/n and see she's being looked after and right now I need to comfort my other daughter.

I walk over to her and pick her up instantly. "She's hurt, but she's being looked after. She's going to have to go the hospital, but she'll be ok." I reassure her as she nods in my neck. "I can take Rose home whilst you're with Y/n." Lizzie offers but Rose instantly argues with that idea. "I don't want to leave Y/n. Please!" She begs. "I can bring her to the hospital?" Lizzie offers and I think for a moment. "You have to understand that it's going to be boring." I explain to Rose, and she nods. "I want to be there to protect Y/n." She responds, making my heart warm at her cuteness.

"How about we go home and grab some things for you both and then we'll come to the hospital." Lizzie suggests. "If you wouldn't mind that would be great." I agree, looking back towards Y/n. "Go, text me where you are, and we'll see you later." Lizzie says when she sees my concern. "Thank you, Lizzie. I love you Rose, and we'll see you later." I say before rushing back to be with Y/n.

They're currently giving her some gas and air when I return, and the paramedic looks to me. "Are you mom?" She asks and I nod. "We're just stabilising her leg and then we'll get her to the hospital. They'll assess her there and give her some additional pain relief." She explains and I nod along, my eyes fixated on Y/n.

Seeing where my eyes are the paramedic continues to reassure me. "This may look scary at the moment, but we need to also to stabilise her head just in case there are any injuries to her neck. We're making sure we take every precaution to prevent further injury." I continue to nod along. Understanding why they're doing what they're doing. It just doesn't make it any easier to watch.

I take my place next to Y/n and provide her any comfort I can whilst she is being seen too. "Can I come with you?" Laura asks, looking from Y/n to me. "No." Y/n jumps in taking Laura by surprise, her eyes showing the hurt. "You need to finish the game." Y/n clarifies. "But..." Laura goes to defend but Y/n cuts her off. "I'll still be broken when the game is over. I'm ok and not going anywhere. Quite literally." She jokes, making us both chuckle. "Please, you need to make sure we win this game and then you can come and see me." She requests. Laura reluctantly agrees but doesn't leave her side until she's guided on to the gurney and moved toward the ambulance. "I'll keep you updated." I promise Laura who nods, reluctant to let go. "I'll see you shortly babe." She smiles, placing a gentle kiss on Y/n's lips, who gives a giddy smile.

I climb in the back of the ambulance and take a seat next to Y/n, reaching out to hold her hand. The paramedics get in and we start on our journey to the hospital. "It hurts mom." Y/n looks to me, tears in her eyes. My heart skips a beat again when she calls me mom. "I know. I'm sorry you're hurt. But I'm here for you." I try to comfort her. "The doctors will be able to get you some morphine when you're in the ER." The paramedic tells Y/n, which seems to appease her for now.

Thankfully, it's not long until we're at the hospital and we're being taking through to the ER where a doctor and some nurses are waiting for us. The potential injury to her neck is their biggest concern right now and they want to confirm there isn't any further injury before properly addressing her leg.

I stand to the side feeling completely helpless as I watch the doctors and nurses move around Y/n, calling out stats and information as they go. The whimpers from Y/n make my heart break. I wish I could take the pain away from here. "Let's get a canula set up and we'll get some pain relief." One of the doctors orders.

Thankfully, the morphine seems to start working quite quickly and Y/n's whimpers start to peter out as the medicine does its job. "Mrs Johansson?" The call of my name tears my eyes away from my daughter and to the doctor who is stood next to me with a kind smile on his face. "Hi, I'm Dr Greenwood. I'm the primary physician for your daughter." He greets me. "On initial examination, it's clear that Y/n has a broken leg and potentially a facial fracture too. We're confident there is no damage to her neck, but we want to be sure before removing the brace. So, we'll be sending her down for some x-rays and scans so we can get a full assessment of her injuries." He explains and I nod along.

"We've given her pain relief and that seems to be working and she's much more comfortable now. I know it's hard to see your kid in pain, but I can assure you we're doing everything that we can to make sure she is comfortable." He assures me, making smile. "Thank you. I appreciate everything you're doing." I respond. "I can get one of the nurses to show you to a private waiting room whilst Y/n is taken for imagery, and we'll come and get you as soon as she's settled in a room." He offers. "Can I see her first?" I request. "Of course. We're just waiting for the porters now." He responds and moves out of the way for me to see Y/n.

The madness around her has died down now and she's just got a couple of nurses monitoring different things. "Hi sweetheart. How are you feeling?" I ask Y/n as I take her hand and gently run my hands through her hair. "Tired and sore." She responds with a croaky voice. Her eye is already starting to swell and bruise, a reminder of the harsh act that led to her being in the hospital. "They're going to take you to get some scans of your leg and neck in a minute. I'll be waiting for you to come back." I explain. "Does that mean I can get this thing off?" She asks, tugging a little at the neck brace. "As long as the scans come back clear you'll be free of the prison." I respond with a smirk, happy that there is a smile on her face.

"We're ready to take her now." One of the nurses tells us. "I'll be right here waiting. I love you ok." I tell her firmly. "I love you too." She responds, taking me by surprise. I don't think she's ever said that to me before. It causes a tear to fall down my cheek as I smile at her lovingly. "Mom, you've got to let me go." She chuckles, just adding to my happiness. I try not to think to much of it, before she was in pain and now, she's on drugs. When she's more with it, we may be going back to Scarlett, but I'll take it for now!

I watch as they roll Y/n away down the corridor, taking a deep breath. I'm then guided to a private waiting room, which I'm very grateful for. I'd rather this not be how news of Y/n gets out. I want it to be on our terms and when she's comfortable. I quickly text Lizzie an update and she confirms they're packing a bag for Y/n as it's likely she'll be in overnight.

Now I just need to call my husband. He's at work today preparing for filming tonight. I hesitate in calling him, but I know that he'd want to be told that she was in the hospital. I hit his contact name and wait for him to answer.

Colin: Hi babe. How was the game? Did they win?

He asks instantly, excitement in his voice. I love how invested he is in Y/n's soccer games.

Scarlett: Uh I'm not actually sure. Y/n got hurt during the game and we're currently at the hospital.

Colin: WHAT?! Is she ok? What happened? How badly is she hurt?

He rambles down the phone, panic lacing his voice.

Scarlett: She was elbowed in the face by a defender when she jumped to head a ball. It knocked her out and as she fell, she landed on her leg awkwardly.

Colin: Oh my God. Was it deliberate? Actually, never mind. I'm leaving work now and I'm coming to the hospital. What did the doctor say?

Scarlett: Col, you don't need to do that. Y/n understands you're working and she's doing ok? She's currently having scans to see how badly her leg is broken and to rule out a neck injury.

Colin: Of course, I'm coming. She's my daughter. Family always comes first, you know that.

I smile down the phone when he refers to Y/n as his daughter. He did it so easily. I really need to bring up the whole adoption thing again. I don't think I can go much longer without having her legal be my daughter. I want her to know that she has a loving mom and dad who will be there for her no matter what.

As he's on the phone I can hear him explaining the situation to someone, I'm assuming the director, who easily agrees for him to leave. He then starts to rush around to get to the car.

Colin: "Ok. I'm about to drive. I'll see you in about 30 minutes. I love you.

Scarlett: I love you too. Drive safely.

And with that he hangs up. I wait nervously to hear that Y/n is back. I'm still worried she's going to have further damage to her neck. I know they said they don't think there is anything to untoward about it, but I can't get the worrying sick feeling out of my stomach.

"Mrs Johansson?" I look up and see Laura waiting hesitantly in the doorway. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Scarlett." I smile at her, opening my arms to her. She instantly moves forward and melts into my hug. "How is she?" She questions as we move to sit. I fill her in on everything the doctor said, and she listens intently.

"Do you know how hard it was not to go and punch that bitch in the face." She fumes after I explain the extent of her injuries. "I probably shouldn't admit this as the adult in this situation, but I feel the same." I admit to chuckles. "Did you win?" I ask and a smile grows on her face. "We scored two more goals. It was 4-0 in the end." She responds proudly. "Y/n will be happy." I say and Laura nods. "Turns out playing for a teammate helped us to play even better. We wanted to do our best for our captain." She explains.

Not too long later, Colin comes bursting through the door, giving both Laura and I a heart attack. "Jeeze Colin!" I scold, my hand clutching my chest as my racing heart starts to calm. "S-sorry. I was just worried." He apologises. "How is she?" He asks. "We've not heard anything more since I called you. They said it could be a little while whilst she has the different scans and x-rays." I reply.

"Where's Rose?" Colin asks when he notices it's just me and Laura in the waiting room. "With Lizzie. They're getting a bag together, so Y/n has some things with her. Rose is adamant about being here for her big sister." I explain, earning an aw from Laura. "I can ask your mom to come and collect her later and keep the kids over night until we know more." Colin suggests. "I think that'll be wise. Rose can see how Y/n is doing and head to mom's before bedtime." I agree.

Colin places a kiss to my head and moves to the other side of the room to call my mom and explain what has happened. She already has Cosmo today, so she's happy to take Rose too. Though she's concerned for her granddaughter too. I think Y/n is going to be spoilt when she's home.

When Colin joins us again, he takes the seat next to me and wraps a supportive arm around me. I move to rest my head on his shoulder, taking in his comfort. "She called me mom." I say quietly. "What was that?" Colin asks. "She called me mom. When she was on the field, she called me mom and then again in the ambulance and here in the hospital." I explain in more detail. "I'm sure it's just because she's in pain and on drugs but hearing her call me that, it made my heart almost burst." I share, my emotions building once again.

"She means it." Laura speaks up from beside me. Both Colin and I turn to look at her. "Yes, she's in pain and high right now. But she means it. This has just given her the outlet to be able to say it. You've given her a safe and loving environment. Yes, it's taken her a while to be able get to this point. But you never pushed her. I don't think you realise how much that means to her." She explains with a soft smile on her face.

"All I have wanted is to be the mother she deserves. I never thought that she would forgive me, let alone get to a point she could call me mom." I admit, tears welling up in my eyes. "Family of Miss Y/l/n?" A nurse enters the room and calls for us. The sound of Y/n's surname bringing me down for a moment. "You need to work on changing her name." Laura smirks at me as we stand and follow the nurse.

She takes us to a private ward where Y/n is laid in bed, her neck brace off. I breath a sigh of relief knowing there is no injury there. Laura rushes in first and carefully hugs Y/n, pressing a kiss to her lips. "I'm so glad you're ok. It was horrible seeing you out cold." She tells her, cupping her cheeks and gently rubbing her thumb over her cheek. "Did you win?" Y/n asks, making us laugh. "I see you have your priorities right." Laura chuckles. "And yes, we won 4-0." She adds on. "See you don't need me on the team." Y/n responds with a sad smile.

We all get comfortable and wait for the doctor to come in and tell us the severity of Y/n's injury. Laura sits on one side, holding Y/n's hand tightly, whilst Colin and I flank her on the other side. "Aren't you filming tonight?" Y/n asks Colin. "Not anymore, I have to been here for my daughter." He responds, his words causing a wide smile to appear on Y/n's face. "Thanks dad." Y/n responds, her eyes glossed over. "D-did you. Did you just..." Colin stutters in shock. Y/n nods, smiling nervously. "I hope you both don't mind me calling your mom and dad. My experience of parents hasn't a good one. I don't really know what a good mom and dad looks like. But I'm pretty sure it's the both of you. I've not been easy yet you've both been there for me, supporting me and loving me. Especially these last couple of weeks with the court case. To me you are my mom and dad." Y/n shares, making both Colin and I cry.

"Oh, my sweet girl. I have been waiting, hoping, you may one day see me as your mother. Hearing you call me mom, it's everything I could ask for." I reassure her as I hug her gently, placing a kiss to her head. Y/n then looks to Colin who's a blubbering mess, making us all laugh. "Like I said, I've seen you as my daughter from the beginning. Being your dad is an honour I'm glad you've allowed me to have." He expresses, getting up and hugging her also.

A clearing of a voice gets all of our attention, and our heads snap to see the doctor in the doorway a file in his hand. "Sorry to interrupt this moment, but I have Y/n's results." He explains. "Please come on in." Colin composes himself and moves back to his seat as the doctor enters the room.

"Ok, Y/n, having examined your scans, I'm happy to say there is no injury to your neck. Though you probably know that as we removed your brace." He starts off. "However, you do have a fractured eye socket, so that is going to look pretty nasty for a few weeks. There's not much we can do other than provide you pain relief and wait for it to heal." He explains and Y/n nods in understanding.

"Now, on to your leg." I feel Y/n's hand tense in my own as we wait to hear the damage. "You have a displaced transverse fracture to your tibia. This means that it's a complete break of the bone and the two parts are not aligned. In this instance, we will need to surgically realign your leg and put in some pins to secure the fracture, allowing it to heal effectively." The doctor explains, showing us the x-rays of Y/n's clearly broken leg.

Y/n's breath hitches at the news, tears filling her eyes. "Will I be able to play soccer again?" She asks, fear lacing her voice. At the vocalisation of her worries, Laura sits forward and holds her other hand tightly. "I have every confidence that with a successful surgery and physio, you'll be playing again." He responds with a smile. Y/n's whole body relaxes at the confirmation, but I know there is still one question on her mind. "How long until I can play again?" She asks him.

"You'll be in a cast for about 6 weeks and from there you'll start physio. I would guess that you could be back into light training within 8 weeks and playing within 10." He replies. "Wow, that's a long time." Y/n whispers, her head dropping. "You'd be back in time for playoffs." Laura tries to comfort her. "And we'll still need our captain. You're more than the player on the pitch Y/n." Laura reassures her, placing a kiss to her hand. She nods unsurely before the doctor goes into more detail about surgery and recovery.

She'll be going in for surgery in the morning as it's already late this evening. She has a temporary brace on her leg which will stop any more damage happening before they're able to surgically fix her leg. We thank the doctor who leaves us to it. "How are you feeling kiddo?" Colin asks, placing a hand on her uninjured leg. "10 weeks is a long time." She replies emotionlessly.

Soccer has been her saving grace these last two years. It's been an outlet whilst she's been going through so much, and it's suddenly taken away from her. I just hope that now she has a stable home, a loving girlfriend and family, that she won't lose herself.

A knock on the door gains our attention as we all giggle as we see Rose on her tiptoes trying to look through the window. I wave them in and Rose rushes to her sister's side. "Sissy! Are you ok?" Rose asks worriedly, trying to climb up onto the bed. Y/n leans forward to pick her up, but I tap her hand away and do it for her.

Rose is really careful as she sits next to Y/n staring at her now closed up eye. "I'm much better now my sister is here." She responds happily, a smile plastered on her face to hide her pain. "Auntie Lizzie told me that we can't bring your flowers, so I brought you chocolate instead. It's you're favourite." Rose shares, turning to Lizzie holding her hand out expectantly.

Lizzie chuckles and pulls out the chocolate bar from her bag and hands it's to Rose. "Yummy. Thank you, Rosie." Y/n responds, placing a kiss to her head. "That girl was mean. I hope she got told off and grounded for hurting you." Rose huffs snuggling into her sister. "Well, she was sent off and I can't imagine she'll get away without the ban being extended." Laura explains with an angry look on her face. I notice that Y/n reaches out and squeezes her hand in comfort, instantly calming down her fuming girlfriend.

"When can you come home?" Rose now asks as Lizzie makes herself comfortable. "We're not sure yet sweetie. Y/n has to have surgery tomorrow so probably a couple of nights." I explain, making Rose pout. "But I have school tomorrow." She complains. "That's ok Rosie. When I'm home we can have a movie day. Mom, dad, and Cosmo could join us too. What do you think?" Y/n suggests to help placate the 7 year old. "Can Laura come too?" Rose asks shyly. "Of course!" Y/n replies happily.

Lizzie's eyes go wide when she hears what Y/n called us as both Colin and I smile. Lizzie looks to me and I nod to confirm she heard correctly. "I'm happy for you." She mouths to me, not wanting to disturb the kids who are rambling about what movies to watch.

We spend the evening together, chatting and laughing. It's really nice, considering we're sat in a hospital room with my injured daughter laid up in bed. But as it hits 8pm, the nurse comes in and tells us that visiting hours are over. "Are you sure you're going to be ok on your own?" I ask Y/n, worried to leave her. "I can always talk to them about letting me stay." I offer but she shakes her head. "I'll be ok mom. I'm pretty tired so I'll probably get some sleep." She reassures me. "Ok, I'll have my phone on loud so if you need anything, just call or text ok. I can be here in 20 minutes." I tell her and she nods.

I bid her goodnight, leaving a soft kiss to her head, reminding her how much I love her. Colin does the same before picking up a sleepy Rose. We leave Y/n and Laura to have a moment before we all leave together. "Do you want me to drop Rose at your moms?" Lizzie offers, but I shake my head. "Thanks, but we'll go. I'd like to see Cosmo." I respond and she nods. "How about I drive you home. That way this lot can get back." Lizzie suggests turning to Laura.

She blushes at the attention making me smirk. She's totally fangirling right now! "Oh, you don't need to do that Ms Olsen." She declines. "Don't me stupid, come on. Besides it gives me a chance to get to know my niece's girlfriend." Lizzie insists, making Laura gulp a little. "Oh, and don't call me Ms Olsen. I'm not old. Please just call me Lizzie." She adds on, earning a slow nod from the teenager. We all walk out to the car park together and say our goodbyes before heading home.

__________

The next morning, Colin and I are at the hospital as soon as we're allowed so we can be with Y/n before she heads into surgery. She's in a lot of pain this morning and had a bad night sleep, which is horrible to see. I think she's grateful that she's going to be unconscious for a few hours whilst they fix her leg.

The surgeon comes in and talks through the procedure, though most of it goes over my head. I'm just grateful that it seems to be helping Y/n. The nurses are then in to prepare her before we walk with them as they wheel her to the operating floor. "We'll be right here when you wake. Rose and Laura will be here after school too, so you've got that to look forward to." I tell Y/n, hoping to comfort her when I see worry in her eyes. "We both love you very much. Everything is going to be just fine." Colin says, pressing a kiss to Y/n's head. "I love you both too. See you in a few hours." She smiles. I hold her close one last time and watch as they take her away. Colin wraps his arm around me to comfort me as we begin waiting for her to return.

Instead of waiting around in a cold room, we head to the cafeteria and have some breakfast. We both skipped it this morning, worried about Y/n. We talk about what we can do to make things easier for Y/n when she gets home. She's going to be reliant on us for a while and I want everything to be as easy as possible for her.

"Shit, we need to call Danny?" I suddenly say. "Why? You're not planning on suing the kid are you?" Colin jokes, making me roll my eyes. "No. But it's the court case in 9 days." I point out and he lets out a quiet "oh." I know she'll still be able to testify, but she's not exactly going to be very mobile and it's just something else to add on to a stressful period for her. "Danny will know what to do. He's always got Y/n's interests at heart. I'll call him when Y/n is out of surgery, and we'll leave him to deal with anything that needs doing." Colin reassures me.

After about three hours, we move back to Y/n's room to wait. They said surgery will be around 4 hours, and I we don't want to miss her coming back. We settle in and I makes sure her pyjamas are out as I know she'll want to change as soon as she can.

Half an our later a nurse comes by to say that surgery went well and she's just in post op now before they bring her back. I let out a sigh of relief knowing that everything is ok. We can focus on recovery.

Colin and I both crowd around Y/n when they bring her back in. She's still unconscious but the doctor said she should wake shortly. We take our seats either side of our daughter, holding her hands and taking comfort that she's back with us. When she starts to stir, I move to gently run my hands through her hair. "M-mom." She stutters at a whisper. "I'm here sweetheart. Colin is too." I greet her as her eyes flutter open.

I give her the biggest smile I can which she tries to return. Her head then flops to the side to see Colin. "Hey kiddo. Glad you're awake." Colin smiles to her. "Hi dad." She returns. I don't think either Colin or I are going to get used to that, but I will love hearing it every time. I will never take for granted any of my kids calling me mom.

The doctor comes in when Y/n is more with it, confirming that surgery went really well and that he's confident of a full and complete recovery. This relaxes Y/n and I notice that she's become determined to get fit so she can be ready for playoffs when they come around.

That afternoon Laura and Rose come to visit. Laura kindly picked Rose up from school for us. Mom is going to bring Cosmo around dinner time so we can have some family time together. But thankfully, the doctor confirmed that Y/n can come home with us tomorrow. I'm grateful that she won't be in this hospital for longer. I want my daughter home with us so we can all look after her. She's got a stressful few weeks ahead and we want to be by her side, supporting her, through all of it.

Part 10

[yankaze]

KH OC week 2024 - Day 2: Past What was your character creation process like?

this one will be morally difficult for me 😭😭

I didn't find much old art to show, but I think these ones will say a lot.

Hajime as a character has existed since 2016. In March 2016 (I was 13 uuum 13 ehem) I learned about KH and somewhere around the same time I came up with this, at that time - eh, I don't know- at least unoriginal character who was literally a goth Roxas (I didn't knew about the existence of AUs idk, and Roxas is already ''emo boy'', but 2007 was almost here idkkk, we can joke about it for a very long time actually, but the fact remains a fact).

His name changed many times and there was no special meaning behind them (Sea, Syon), I just liked the way they sounded. I can answer the question why I named him ''Hajime'' right now. Internet says: ''Hajime (Japanese: はじめ) is a Japanese name meaning "beginning" (初め, 始め)''. I liked the way it sounded and its meaning and it gave me a hint where to move the character's story now.

+ in the Hajime's story he chooses this name for himself, because obviously no one gave name to him, but he needed a word to talk about himself and (i'm not sure about that) in the book he finds this name and I can say that it was chosen by him randomly.

He had a terrible written story on the basis of some other AU (???) and without сorvalol I can’t read it, even though it’s stored somewhere in my old dms from those years, I still don’t want to show it 😭

Around 2017 and up until 2019, I tried to make... something... out of him. It feels more like I just periodically returned to KH in a fit of baseless nostalgia and I really wanted to shove a “piece of myself” into this universe (which was already tired of me lmao).

2019 reminded me about KH in the form of KH III release and... this character again (+ my friend's kh oc- Jun).

I think that for a long time I didn't wanted to fundamentally change his concept (which was literally just that he exists and somehow travels around the worlds) because I was emotionally attached to this character. In essence, he was not just a character for me, but also memories that were triggered by each repeated hyperfixation on this universe.

It seems to me that the most obvious indicator of how I jumped back and forth into the KH universe is noticeable by the fact that it gave me the opportunity to look at one of my redraw series with this character through the years.

From 2020 to 2023 there was a long lull with this character.

2023 has been jUiCy in rethinking from the start because the long break gave me the opportunity to finally stop give in to nostalgia (or at least less) and loosen my emotional attachments to unworkable concepts. Therefore, this character now has the opportunity to finally become something better than a copy of another character.

However, this epic attempt was quickly abandoned as soon as the hyperfix ended.

We've reached the present time (mid-2024).

I slammed my fist on the table and decided to finally play through ALL the Kingdom Hearts games (that was therapy for my soul) and finally my understanding of KH universe became kinda complete (I still don't understand everything, the plot is very complex u'know). From what I began to understand, I decided to give this character another chance and close this damned gestalt.

This story is still ongoing, but I told in general details everything that happened to this character all these 8 years. This actually shows not only how the character changed, but also how I changed as an artist. Even my ''psychological problems'' can be seen through this story, and what amazes me the most is how over the years, using Hajime as an example, my drawing skills improved.

At such moments, you understand that you are not standing still and thoughts about "I have no progress in my art" no longer arise.

@khoc-week