#but i’ve decided he got therapy and found out words hurt

[alphaclxwn]

oh man angsty boy time

[storiesforallfandoms]

making amends ~ bucky barnes;marvel

word count: 2528

request?: no

description: in which she finds out that their three year relationship started by him trying to make amends for his brainwashed past

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, use of y/n, mentions of bucky’s winter soldier past, mentions of an incident that left the reader in critical condition

masterlist (one, two, three)

(Y/N) placed the basket of clothes on her and Bucky’s bed. Bucky was away, and she had the day off, so she decided to do a clean of the whole house. She had just finished a load of laundry that had been waiting to be washed for at least two weeks. That included Bucky’s laundry, which he usually did himself but he had also let it pile up the last few weeks.

After folding it, (Y/N) turned to Bucky’s dresser to put his clothes away. When she opened the top drawer, she noticed something tucked away. She pulled it out and found it was a small moleskin journal. She hadn’t seen it before. Before she could consider what it might be for, or why Bucky might be hiding it away, she opened it.

It was a list of names. (Y/N) didn’t recognize any of them, but they were undoubtably written in Bucky’s writing. There were pages of names, some of which were crossed out. (Y/N) knew about Bucky’s past - about being a man out of time who was once a brainwashed weapon for Hydra. She began to wonder if these names were people he once knew. Maybe family of his old friends from the 40s, or whoever was still alive from then.

That seemed like a reasonable explanation, until she saw her name was one of the ones crossed out.

She backed up until her legs collided with the bed. She fell back to a sit, staring long and hard at her own name.

Why am I included in Bucky’s journal? she thought. Was he looking for me? And if so, why?

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear Bucky coming home. Suddenly, he was stood in the doorway to the bedroom. (Y/N) looked up at him, still with a look of confusion on her face. Bucky had been smiling, but when his eyes fell onto the book, his smile faded. His reaction made her heart sink. She would feel guilty for looking through his stuff under different circumstances, but now all she could think of was what the journal was for.

Bucky broke their silence first, “Where’d you find that?”

“It was in your top drawer,” she replied. Quickly, she added, “I found it while putting the laundry away. I didn’t think...” She trailed off, looking back down at the book. “What is this?”

Bucky ran his hand through his hair and sighed. There was no use in lying about it. He had to come clean eventually. “You know how we’ve talked about my time as the Winter Soldier? All the bad I did while I was under their control?”

She nodded. Of course, how could she ever forget? He had opened up to her very early on in their relationship about what he had gone through under Hydra’s control. He told her because he said he didn’t want to keep secrets from her, and he wanted to give her the opportunity to leave before the relationship got too serious if what he did changed her opinion on him. It was a shock, especially since she was a former SHIELD agent who had heard plenty of stories about the infamous Winter Soldier, but she assured him that her opinion on him hadn’t changed. “You are not that person,” she ahd told him.

“When Shuri deprogrammed me,” he explained, “and when I started going to therapy, my therapist suggested finding a way to make amends for all the bad I did. That book is a list of people I hurt...or-or killed as the Winter Soldier. I’ve met with most of them, or their remaining families, and done whatever I could do to make amends.”

(Y/N) looked at all the names again. All people from Bucky’s past. People he hurt when he didn’t even have control over his own body and mind. The crossed out names were people he felt he had made amends with.

Her name was one of the ones crossed out.

“Why am I here?” she asked. Her voice was so soft he may not have heard it if he didn’t have enhanced hearing.

“Do you remember that mission you went on that resulted in you leaving SHIELD?”

(Y/N) tensed. She remembered, although very slightly. She had some gaps in her memory from that night, but she remembered the most important part: that she had almost died.

The details of the mission were one of the foggy things. All she could remember was being sent to a supposed Hydra base with other SHIELD agents. She had gone off by herself. She was moving down what she thought was an empty hallway. That’s where her memory stopped. Next thing she knew, she had woken up in a hospital bed days later. Fury didn’t tell her many details, just that she was attacked and nearly lost her life. Another agent had luckily found her before it was too late.

Fury had offered to let (Y/N) be off as long as she needed. He assured her that her job would be waiting for her when she was ready to come back. Instead, (Y/N) quit on the spot.

When she finally dared to look up at Bucky, she saw that he was crying. She had been holding back her own emotions, but seeing Bucky break was enough to make her finally break too.

“It was me,” Bucky admitted, his voice breaking. “I did that to you.”

(Y/N)’s hands clutched the journal. She was tempted to rip it to shred and leave the pieces scattered all over the bedroom floor. Their bedroom floor. The bedroom in the house that they had bought together nearly a year ago.

“Was any of it real?”

She didn’t mean to say it out loud. It was a thought that slipped through her filter before she could stop herself. But it was also a question she needed an answer on. She had already spent three years of her life with Bucky, and had planned to spend the rest of it with him, too. But if all of this was just a way for him to “make amends” with her...that would’ve hurt her worse than finding out that the man she loved was the reason she almost died.

Although, that wasn’t Bucky. That’s what she had been telling him since he first told her about the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t in control, he didn’t know what he was doing. He was made to think he was a weapon to be used against anyone Hydra viewed as an enemy, and at that point in time, (Y/N) was the enemy in question.

But it was Bucky who had lied to her for three years. Post-brainwashed Bucky, who knew this whole time that he had hurt her when he was under Hydra’s spell. Who had sought her out to “make amends”, and just so happened to end up in a relationship with her.

Bucky seemed hurt by the question. “Of course! Of course, all of it was real. All of this is real.”

“You say that like it’s an outrageous thing to ask, but how can I not think that maybe this is how you decided to ‘make amends’ with me?”

She was standing now. She didn’t even notice she had stood, but now she was looking Bucky in the eye.

“Three years, Buck,” she continued. “We’ve been together for three years. You had so much time to tell me this, and you never did. Were you ever going to? Or were you just going to let me believe that we met by chance in a grocery store and fell in love and it was all happily ever after?”

“I tried to tell you,” he said. “When I first told you about my past, I wanted to tell you then. That was the whole reason I told you. But then you were being so understanding and kind, and you were making me feel less like a monster, I just...I couldn’t. I thought if I told you then...that you wouldn’t have been as understanding.”

“Bucky, I’m not upset or mad or scared of you because of what happened. I know that wasn’t you. That’s what I’ve been saying for ages, that you’re not the Winter Soldier. What I am upset about is that you didn’t tell me about this amends thing. You didn’t even mention that it was something you did. I had to find out three years into our relationship, which now has me questioning whether or not this whole thing was just a way for you to make amends with me.”

“No! No, (Y/N), it’s not - ”

He reached out for her and she took a step back. They both paused as (Y/N) realized what she did. She had done it out of anger, but the look in Bucky’s eyes told her that he was afraid she was doing it out of fear, too. That one look was enough to make her anger turn to sympathy. She was still angry, and she was sure that anger wasn’t going anywhere, but she could understand Bucky’s hesitance in telling her about the attack. That just wasn’t the issue she was currently having.

“How did you plan to make amends with me?” she asked. “Because if taking me out on that first date was your plan, I’m going to be so upset and hurt - ”

“No, not at all,” he cut her off. “We met ages before I asked you on a date, remember? You said it yourself, it was at the grocery store.”

“Had you been looking for me, though? Was that actually a chance encounter, or did you look for me?”

He hesitated before responded, “I had looked for you. You were one of the few people who were already in New York, so I went looking to find out where you lived and figured out which places you were likely to visit in that area. I didn’t follow you or anything, but I did go to some of those places frequently to try and run into you.”

(Y/N) didn’t think about the slight creepy and stalker way that sounded. She had to remind herself he was saying he didn’t do that to try and start a relationship with her.

“We got to talking, and you told me about the issues you were having in your apartment,” he said. “You said your landlord was a piece of shit and didn’t offer any help whenever you needed it. So, I offered to help. Remember, I was there basically a whole day just fixing whatever issues you had?”

She remembered. She had been hesitant to accept the offer from a strange man she had only met moments before in a grocery store, but her old apartment was basically falling apart. She had done the best she could to fix whatever she knew how, but there were still so many issues, and her landlord kept blowing her off whenever she had talked to him about it. She was desperate. Not to mention she still had her SHIELD training if Bucky had ended up trying to pull anything while he was there.

“That was my amends,” he told her. “I knew it could never measure up to what I did to you, but it was something you needed done and I helped you. I crossed you off the list then and there, and I completely left you alone. I hadn’t thought about you for months after that, until...”

“Until we ran into each other on the street,” she remembered.

It was three or four months after Bucky had fixed up her apartment when she saw a familiar face walking the packed sidewalk of New York. She had been the one to initiate the conversation then. Bucky hadn’t even seemed to notice her until she waved him down and called out his name.

“And you basically begged for my number so we could keep in contact,” he reminded her. “I tried to stay away. I knew it was wrong, sick even, for me to get involved with you at all. But you had these big, pleading eyes, and you wouldn’t really take no for an answer. And then we got to talking, and one thing led to another and I found myself asking you on a date.”

When Bucky stepped towards her, reaching for her again, (Y/N) didn’t pull away. Instead, she let him take her into his arms. He was slow, giving her the option to pull away if she wanted to, and when she didn’t he pulled her all the way to him. She rested her head on his chest as he put his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry I never told you,” he said. “I know I should’ve. It’s eaten away at me for so long. But at time went on, I just fell more and more in love, and I was scared. I was selfish. You never should’ve had to find out this way.”

(Y/N) sighed. “No, I shouldn’t have. You should’ve told me when things really started to get serious. Especially about the amends stuff.”

“I know. I’m sorry, doll.” He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair. “I understand if you need time to process everything. Like I said, I know it was wrong to pursue a relationship after what I did to you - ”

“How many times will I have to remind you that you are not the Winter Soldier?” she asked, pulling away so she could look at him. “Honestly, knowing that doesn’t affect our relationship. I fell in love with Bucky Barnes, the kind man who is carrying such a large burden on his shoulders because of other people who are actually evil. That part of the story isn’t what upsets me. It’s finding out that I was on an amendment list and not knowing how much of this relationship was actually real.”

Bucky cupped her face with his flesh hand, almost like he was afraid of her reaction to his metal arm now that she knew the truth. “All of it is real. I love you so, so much, (Y/N). I can’t imagine my life without you.”

She leaned into his touch. “I love you, too.”

He pulled her in for a kiss, but she pulled away. “You’ll have to add me back to that list.”

He looked at her, confused. “What?”

“After learning about all of this, you have to make a new amendment with me. Say, breakfast in bed? Oh, or maybe that puppy you keep conveniently forgetting we agreed to get?”

He smiled and pulled her to him again. When he kissed her, she didn’t pull away.

“I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll give you the whole world if it proves to you how much I love you.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Let’s start smaller with the puppy instead.”

Bucky chuckled. “Deal. We’ll go to the pound next week.”

“Tomorrow.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “Fine. Tomorrow.”

[swearyshera]

So we are at the end of the road on something that has always been about the journey, not the destination.  I’ve taken my time to gather some thoughts.  This blog has meant a lot to many people, not the least of which is me.  I’ve had a hard time these last few years – I think it’s been hard times for everyone, in one way or another.  Personally, I seem to remember discovering this blog not too long before I had a breakdown and handled it very poorly, making bad decisions that cost me a lot of friends, or at least people whom I thought were my friends up until a breaking point.  (Your blog was unrelated to this).  When I came out of hospitalization I had a few things to rely upon – a video therapy group was one, certain family members and, well, as silly as it sounds, hitting up tumblr for my daily dose of Sweary She-Ra to make me laugh. And then in mid-January, 2023, one of the people who was closest to me in my entire life died suddenly of technically unknown cause but considering his health issues, probably a heart-issue. It was sudden and devastating.  We shared She-Ra and the Princesses of Power together because he was kind of curious about it and I was a nostalgia-fan of the ‘80s series.  We both became massive fans of Entrapta.  In fact, my nephew / best friend got me into the fandom in the first place because he had a silly idea for a fanfic about Entrapta wrecking havoc in the Fright Zone just post first-season and had little confidence in his fanfic writing, but decided to pass along said idea to me, an inveterate fic-writer for many fandoms.  I was put through the wringer this year – it’s the first time I’ve been in partial charge of a memorial service.  I am feeling better now than I did at the beginning of this year because I’ve found the strength to keep doing things that he and I liked to do together and time helps.  And again, in all of this, I had a silly little comic where a sparkly purple princess calls people “twattingler,” others make liberal use of the word that originally meant Fornication Under Consent of the King, one character swears all the time but apologizes for it, one character is contractually obligated to use Ned Flanders style cursing and there’s a fourth wall breaker and an incompetent boss with indecipherable accent and Marxist unicorns and all the rest.  No matter what was happening with my emotions I could just… take a little break and look at the funny fancomic.  Sweary She-Ra for me has been like a warm mug of tea on a cold day or a bowl of baked macaroni and cheese with a butter-cracker crust made out of the old 1960-70 something Betty Crocker cookbook.  It’s been Internet comfort food that has been sorely needed at times.  So thank you.  I just want to thank you for this funny little fan project.  I don’t think you have any idea how much it has meant to your audience.  @freedfromthegalactichivemind

And I don't know if the audience has any idea how much it has meant to me!

When I started this, things were pretty shit, weren't they? Here in the UK we'd just come out of the second Covid Lockdown, with the third expected to happen imminently; the weather was miserable, we'd barely seen our friends in months, the world in general just sucked. And I'd love to say that I felt a calling to break through that with some humour, but no... it was nothing like that. This is what happened...

And so it all went from there.

I almost just went for random scenes as I thought of them, rather than starting from the beginning. But I thought "Eh, fuck it, let's see how far I get", and the rest is history.

Even as the storylines got more complex (bear in mind, I started purely with the intention to do the original script with a few swear words peppered in), I always wanted to keep things upbeat. The painful moments are those 'this is the good stuff, hurt me more' moments rather than actually horrifying things - I know there's been a couple of exceptions, but in general it's held true.

But I've always been driven by one thing - the world isn't very funny right now; it's stressful, sometimes downright terrifying. And if I can alleviate that for ten, twenty seconds per day and make that tiny bit of difference to someone, then I consider that a job done. I'm not out here claiming to have the cure for depression, or some kind of plan to save the world, but I (hopefully) can make a few people smile in the midst of all the shit that's happening, even if it's just for a moment.

So much has changed in the last three years, but this blog has been such a central part of my world, it'll be weird when it's over (maybe that's why I don't want to stop there!). But if this coming Friday really is the last chapter in this part of my life, I'll still be happy that it happened. And if you've ever smiled or laughed at the blog, I'm happy that happened as well.

[ramblingroommate]

911 s1e2 Part 4 (previous part and part 1)

Poor girl, I feel for her 💔 She’s obviously hurting so much and mourning but she decided to track down this firefighter she was mean to (not without cause, ‘cause Buck was pretty tactless) to apologize. And also to explain the situation to him, I wonder if she noticed he was also feeling guilty about what happened

Okay this is really interesting. Because the therapy session ended when it did, Buck got to the heart of the problem but they didn’t really talk about how to move on. Realizing you have a problem and what exactly that is is just the first step, overcoming it is a completely different ball game. It doesn’t just come naturally!

But I like how they went about this: he struggled, talked to his friends (and a therapist) about his issue, listened to their perspectives and then took from them what he found most useful. Abby’s words clearly had the biggest impact on him and helped him the most (which makes sense because it was really good advice)

I also like that he made the biggest progress when talking to someone else who was struggling. Dealing with someone else’s fears and thoughts is much easier than dealing with our own. Seeing the sister feeling guilty for her brother’s death made him realize that there was nothing she could do which in turn meant there was nothing he could do

Really well done

Mmmh I’m a bit torn on this one. On one hand I’m loving Carla’s energy and attitude and what she’s doing for Abby (taking her out, encouraging her, convincing her to call a cute guy), but on the other I’m not feeling this Abby-Buck thing at all. I can’t really put my finger on why tho

I also think Abby SHOULD think more about herself and have fun and go out with a guy if that’s what she wants, but does it have to be Buck?

I don’t know, I liked Buck’s kind words to Abby in the first episode and Abby’s advice to Buck and how that played out here but can’t we just leave it at that?

Why? You don’t know her

Maybe this is part of the reason why I feel weird about this? Buck doesn’t know her so there’s no reason for him to act so differently with her. “I won’t meet you because you’re special and I don’t want to ruin this” YOU BARELY KNOW EACH OTHER

I think this feels like… how do I say this? If I were to ask the writers “where is this coming from, why is this happening?”, the answer would be “because we said so” and not a word more

I’ve barely seen them interact tho so maybe that will change… they’re not even together or going out so maybe I’m getting ahead of myself

This scene is so cute! I may not have liked the lead up but this scene was worth it.

Abby being so happy she had the nerve to call Buck regardless of his answer, Buck’s answer actually being mature and kind, Abby understanding the rejection with no drama… this is really really cute and a good message

HOW FHE FUCK DID WE GET HERE WE WERE HAVJNG SUCH A CUTE MIMENT WHAT

THIS IS ONLY EPISODE THREE

What the fuck guys, like for real. In three episodes -THREE EPISODES- we’ve had one of our main guys being fired, hints at Bobby’s tragic backstory, and now one of our main character’s daughter doing this? I would expect this kind of heavy storyline from a season 3 or 4 not episode fucking three of season 1

And of course it’s a cliffhanger

[abubblingcandle]

Word for the week: therapy, city, fire, knee

Therapy - A Treatment Room Doors Moment Extended Cut (basically before I decided that ATRDM would work best only in Roy POV I had some other scenes plotted out and so going to post them as a seperate thing)

“I just, I just want them to like me again you know,” Jamie sighs thumping down onto the seat across from Keeley. She sighed, carrying on typing on her laptop. She had hoped that Jamie seeming more emotionally mature and just being her friend not her boyfriend now would mean that she didn’t have to do this anymore. Jamie was sweet, it was what had drawn her to him in the first place, but his emotional regulation and maturity were rock bottom on the scale. As his girlfriend she expected to have to do some of the emotional legwork for him but as his friend, god she was so tired of it. She sent the email she had been working on a pushed her laptop shut. Good job they literally had someone who’s job it was to listen to Jamie whine. “Come on Jamie,” she sighed, getting to her feet and waving for him to follow her. “Oh ok. We can walk and talk,” Jamie shrugged and continued to make his point about how he just wanted people to notice he was trying to change. Keeley sighed again. She really didn’t have time for this. They climbed up the stairs and Keeley pushed the partially open door to Dr Sharon’s office. “Jamie, this is Dr. Fieldstone. She's a brilliant therapist and, unlike me, she actually gets paid to listen to you complain,” Keeley gestured to Sharon with a tense smile. “Oh, right. Um, sorry doc but I already go to therapy like,” Jamie stammered looking between Dr Sharon and Keeley looking like a kicked puppy. “Really?” Keeley squeaked before her brain caught up. She thought this was going to be a fight to get Jamie to see someone to talk to … not that he already had. “Yeah, she’s called Lucy and she’s ace. We chat on the phone now I ain’t in Manchester,” Jamie shrugs as if this was no big deal. “No offence doc. Just don’t really need two do I?” Jamie smiles awkwardly to Sharon.

City - from God Forbid You Leave Me (like everybody else did)

“This is a genuine question Jamie,” Higgins sighed, pulling over a far too small stool to perch by Jamie’s bed. He reached out to lay his hand on the top of the duvet that was covering the entirety of Jamie’s balled up form. “So I don’t want you to get mad,” Higgins added. Hearing no complaints from inside Jamie’s cocoon he decided to press on. “Do you actually want to go back to City or does that just feel like what everyone is expecting you to do?” “I gotta,” the mound mumbled. “Do you?” Higgins asked, starting to move his hand on top of the duvet trying to provide some comfort to the distressed young man. There was a pause, the feeling of the duvet rising and falling the only sign that there was something alive in there.

Fire - From Roll Call Ch3

“I’ve booked out basically a whole Travelodge for anyone that isn’t admitted and we are going to get to you as soon as it is safe to do so. Anything else I can do to help Colin?” Higgins asked and Colin huffed a laugh. “It’s all on fire Higgins. It’s all on fire. Everyone is so hurt and I’m not so I’ve got to help and I’ve only found two players so far, fat load of good I’m doing,” Colin mumbled, his breath catching in his throat after every word. “You are doing a wonderful job Colin,” Sam’s voice startles Colin. His head shoots up and he nearly drops the borrowed phone to the ground, only catching it with the tips of his fingers at the last second.

Knee - from The Richmond Job Ch14

“Roy, your knee!” Keeley hissed, pulling Roy into the stairwell before the real guard rounded the corner. “You are supposed to be in bed. God, you should be in hospital not just bed,” she rambled, holding his by the shoulders and checking he somehow hadn’t got more injured on the walk here. “I have been in bed long enough and no fucking hospitals you know that. You’re not supposed to be here either,” Roy growled, peering through the glass of the stairwell door to make sure they weren’t seen. “Well, it’s Rupert isn’t it. And Nate. They can’t win, we’ve got to complete the job,” Keeley sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. “We?” Roy questioned and she rolled her eyes with an exaggerated exhale. “I mean we’re both here. There’s no way the others aren’t as well. Casing the joint,” she smiled tearily.

[arl3kinka]

THE BITCH; my interpretations

since there’s almost nothing known about her I decided to create some headcanons about her, mostly with her relationship with the Dude.

besides some personal opinions I take from base what is shown in games, movies and such.

pd: this is not really important but since there are a few little mention I warn that I headcanon Dude to have DID (without diagnose) and he’s the same guy in every game.

if instead of a hyphen there’s a star it’s to address DID in Dude (ALSO about that; I don’t have DID myself so all I know is from research I’ve done myself so if there’s something wrong please tell me!).

[ tw // mentions of abusive relationships, sex, use of drug and the usage of the word "maybe" a bit too much ]

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

— Born and raised in Paradise.

— From the outside her family was pretty normal: father, mother and a younger sister. But on the inside it was something else.

— Her father worked a lot and was almost never at home. Since her mother didn’t had a job (or when she got one she got easily fired because of her temper) he did a lot of extra hours.

I think their parents would either fight a lot but still would never get divorced. Maybe they genuinely loved each other and that’s how they were used to speak when angry, so The Bitch really normalized the fights (never went further than screams and discussions, MAYBE some broken object).

— Whatever it was, who always won those fights was her mother (probably her father gave up to humour her so they didn't fight again), and that stuck up with her.

— The Bitch’s mother: “Never get married, it’s one of the worst mistakes you can do”.

That’s why her mother never liked the idea of her marrying Dude, either that or she saw him and went “with him???”.

— Pretty sure her mom loves her and does the best she can to raise her and really never treated her badly, but still she’s pretty much a disaster with everything else (or in general).

That's the main reason why she moved with her at the end of “Apocalypse Weekend”.

— Even before The Bitch and Dude got together, leaving Commander Hardrock pretty hurt, they already couldn’t stand each other, always fighting and annoying the other but not in a “siblings who fight but still love each other” way, like literally fighting.

— I have the feeling that her mother had a preference for her over Commander Hardrock and, assuming “Hardrock” it’s not a nickname, she’s using another surname because really, she despites both of them. Maybe I’m looking a bit too into but MAYBE because she was more tomboy-ish/butch and both The Bitch and their mom were more “feminine” found her kinda weird?

— I also think The Bitch is a bit similar to their mother, both personality and in appearance.

— Anyway, returning with The Bitch, she has narcissistic tendencies and anger issues, either learned of growing up seeing her mother treating her father like that or it's just in her blood.

— Is not really close to her father. He was there but also a bit distant because when he got home he was so tired nobody could move him from the couch.

— Has never gone to therapy and I don’t think she even bothered.

— “Therapy? Are you calling me crazy or what?”

— She didn’t go to university: studying was never really her thing so she took jobs here and there since her late teens. I don’t think she’s really clever or liked to study.

— I also don’t think she was in any category during high school. Not one of the populars but also not one with the weirdos. She just existed, with her friends and not much more.

— She really likes sweets, especially those who have some glazing and such like donuts.

— Meet the Postal Dude after a while he got out of the mental hospital and got married pretty quickly with the bad luck that they were still in their honeymoon phase.

★ P2 was the one in charge, and P1 wasn’t entirely dormant (I think after they got out of the asylum P1 was around for a while yet not really active) and P3 didn’t even existed yet.

★ Honestly both of them had mixed feelings about it. P1 felt something was a bit off but he also craved for that attention and care she showed, winning over that strange feeling. P2 is not as sensitive as P1 can be, but he had to admit he also liked that somebody liked him and damn, she wasn’t bad looking either so…

— I mean, who gets a tattoo with the name of their partner? Too many people, I know. And how many times ends up being a mistake? Pretty usually too (at least from what I’ve seen with my family/friends).

— After that phase ended they realized they pretty quickly they disliked the other and that didn't had a lot in common either.

— I think things went something like this: Dude gets out of the asylum, besides Uncle Dave and recently Champ he doesn’t has nobody else, he meets this woman who’s pretty and the only one who has shown some interest/affection to him (love bombing), he falls from her and well, the rest is history.

In case somebody imagines Dude as an aromantic person (I can see it too, but it’s not my case) I think he has confused love with validation, and the fact that now he’s now in a broken marriage also makes him resentful to her too. If she was a better person, or at least somebody who would treat him decently he wouldn’t feel so bad about it. Maybe a bit uncomfortable, but not to the point to feel like he’s in hell.

I also think that, whatever the case is, Uncle Dave motivated him to take that step thinking it would be good for him somehow (he was so wrong).

★ That’s when P1 went dormant and left P2 alone, not wanting to deal with her and the world in general.

P2, of course, if he wasn't already resentful that he did the same during the time they spend at the asylum, imagine when he disappeared completely this time. He was pretty much angry of trying to deal with his shit, but what else could he do?

After all, he also accepted marrying her too.

— Maybe she also started to date him because she was bored too, or because was the only person who tolerated her (I headcanon Dude as a pretty passive person, not to the point of being a people pleaser, maybe P1 could be but not P2, but still rather shut up and take the shit than fight back, specially at the beginning... sounds familiar?).

— Both really wanted to make it work, really, but with somebody who doesn’t knows her habits are toxic to a relationship (or she’s conscious and doesn’t cares, which makes it worse) and the other one who instead of dumping her stays there since he doesn’t knows any better and isn’t really experienced in relationships (at least from what I think) I don’t really think anything good can come out from there.

— Thinks could also have been something like:

Dude: “I’m mentally ill, literally got out from an asylum”

The Bitch: “It’s okay”

Dude: *show signs of being mentally ill*

The Bitch: “Uh stop? Can you not??”

Aaand that’s another point that I MAYBE, just MAYBE, could have affected in having a more sane relationship. I don’t know about y’all but if I couldn’t express how I feel or what’s bothering me relating to my mental health I would feel pretty bad about it. But hey, just maybe.

— After the wedding and since they live in a trailer maybe they traveled a bit, looking for differect jobs and such (also avoiding paying taxes too) and after some time they move again to Paradise because Dude got a job at RWS.

— They both do drugs together, one of the few moments I think they would be cool with the presence of the other.

— (tw: sex and cheating mentione) Just like in the movie I think that at the end of their relationship she cheated on him, just like in the film. That’s why he catches gonorrhea. And you may ask “and what if he was the one cheating on her?” that's a possibility too, yeah, but gonorrhea symptoms usually appear between the second or seventh day the person has been infected, and in the game we control Dude for the whole week while she stays on the trailer (and locks him out too). Also in the film she’s the one cheating on her.

— [ I’m really sorry if it sounds like I’m trying to defend the Postal Dude TuT it’s really not my intention ]

— Okay here’s another thing that might change the perspective: maybe before they got married he promised her he would change, implying he would take his medicines, the trailer thing was temporary, etc. Maybe he promised her they would have a happy ending, living in a real house, he would get a stable job, etc. But then she sees he’s not doing anything he promised to her. Months pass and he can keep up a job for more than a month or two. He wastes his money on drugs instead of his medicine. She would get tired, and it’s completely normal, that’s when The Bitch became more distant with him, resentful even. She sees herself stuck in a loveless marriage with a guy who’s a disaster and doesn’t love her, that he’s just with her because… sex? Some company? I dunno. There’s when she started to get more aggressive towards him, making Dude do everything since he didn’t do shit on a daily basis.

That’s a possibility too, but since we don’t know a lot of stuff and what we see in her being a bitch (ba-dum tiss) with him in almost every media it can be for both reasons: she was a pain in the ass from the beginning or maybe he’s always been the problem. They both are, that’s for sure, but maybe one of them is more to blame than the other.

But seeing how everybody is tired of her bullshit (her own sister, Dude and Madcow Mike J) and if you play pacifist Dude is literally just a regular guy in a town of crazy people maybe she fucked up a bit more in terms or relationship.

— Even if I think she’s not really a good person Dude is not a saint either (regardless of which Dude are we talking about and/or they way we’re controlling them), actually far from that, but it’s seen that he actually tries during their marriage (maybe because he doesn’t wants to fight with her, maybe because he still feels something for her -which I doubt considering how he reacts to her dumping him in “Paradise Lost”-, I dunno). In the second game he does all those errands for her and even runs away in “Paradise Lost” instead of, I dunno, kill her in the first instance? And the fact that he tried to kill himself instead of killing her by the end of “Postal 2”? Yeah.

— Also, the end of “Paradise Lost”? Where she technically dies? I think both are canon.

What I mean with that is, the normal ending you get is what she told Dude in pure rage, but after a moment where he leaves her behind (in a moment I’ll come back to that in a moment) she’s starting to regret how she treated him. Sure, he’s an ass in a lot of things, but hey he tried a bit at least. And then she has a breakdown.

— Then Madcow MikeJ kills her because, I mean, it wouldn’t be pretty if your new wife was crying about her ex husband. Maybe killing her wasn’t the best solution but what do you want me to say they’re Paradise citizens lol.

— That’s why in “Postal 4: No Regerts” there’s a sign in Edensin that says Mike J has killed his ex wife (or that’s what the wiki says, I haven’t played the fourth game myself haha) and that’s why the Dude asks her younger sister how’s The Bitch doing.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

aaand that’s all for now, I have others for Dude but I think he’s a bit more complex than her because uh, he’s literally the protagonist and The Bitch only appears in 2 games without counting mentions.

I dunno, I tried to show how I view her a bit.

pd 2: not the first time that I write headcanons but the first time posting them, so excuse me if I don’t explain myself really well (or if there are any typos) and uh if I miss characterize any of the character.

please let me know that last part, I would hate that and I think I have a tiny tendency of doing so :’).

[nowoyas]

Edible Arrangements 33

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Read on Ao3

A/N: i didn't forget you forgot

Chapter Summary: Neito attends his first therapy appointment. You head out with Tenya to cope.

Warnings: slight angst

Word Count: ~2900 words

.

..

…

Dr. Fuyumi’s office is cold.

Neito doesn’t know what, exactly, he expected in a place like this. But it’s cold.

The walls are a soft blue, the carpets winding with a blend of colors—cream, black, and red. The rot in his skin. The blood tainting his soul.

She’s got a gentle tone when she speaks. He wonders about her quirk, wonders if it’s something suitable to counseling services like this. He kind of expected most great therapists would have quirks that were… memory-based, or otherwise emotions, or something like aromatherapy. Anything that would aid their therapy services.

It was not uncommon that he found himself toying with the urge to initiate contact with someone, solely out of a desire to copy their quirk and figure out what secrets it held in the few precious minutes he’d have with it.

She had to know about his quirk. It was in his intake paperwork. But she hadn’t made any move to prevent him from copying it, if he wanted.

Tell me a little bit about why you’re here today, she had asked him. That had been three… no, four now, minutes ago. She’d waited patiently as he took in the carpet, the walls, the ceiling, the little flecks of red interspersed in her hair.

“I’m a horrible person,” he says finally into the silence.

She’d had a surprise cancellation, an unexpected opening in her schedule, and then, Neito had gotten in, based purely on being the first one on the waitlist to answer his phone when she called to fill the gaps.

“Well, I haven’t seen anything to imply that,” she says evenly. “What makes you think so?”

“I…” He sighs. Where do you even begin telling a therapist about issues that involve something she probably doesn’t even think is real? “Do you know about vampires, Dr. Todoroki?”

“Fuyumi,” she corrects gently. “And I suppose you could say I do.”

He arches a perfectly maintained brow her way. That’s… a weird way to answer. “Tell me what you think you know.”

She quirks a secretive smile. “More than I think you realize.”

Fuck it. He’s already here for mental health reasons. It’s not like she’s ever going to think he’s sane.

Might as well frontload her with it.

“I thought of myself as a vampire hunter. Thought I was helping people. I… you know, all the old literature, the even older stuff that started the idea, was all about how they’re monsters, right? They take advantage of and hurt people. They manipulate, kill, take whatever they want and leave nothing for anyone else. There is no way for a vampire to ethically exist, because they have to harm others in order to continue living. I’m a Philosophy major, so I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that stuff. So I took it on myself to fix the situation.”

She stares at him as he speaks. She doesn’t move to say anything.

“I nearly killed someone. Hurt someone else, who I thought he was taking advantage of, because he was a vampire and they were clearly being bitten by someone. That was months ago. Within a few days, my stepsister decided to tell me that she’s been a vampire for god knows how long, by turning me into one. As revenge, I guess. So now I’m stuck as the thing I thought was a monster, and maybe I am one, but I don’t feel the urge to hurt anyone, which means that ethically, I might be a better person than before, because I have more potential to seriously hurt someone but even less desire to, because I nearly killed someone and realized how fucked up I was being, and I feel like I’m falling apart, and you probably think I’m experiencing delusions or—or something.”

There’s a soft tilt to her head, a moment where she processes everything.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I wish I had their quirk. I feel like you’re lying to me.”

“No, Neito,” she replies. “I’m really not.”

Dr. Fuyumi Todoroki smiles with her fangs out.

~

Izuku does not respond to the messages sent his way. Tenya, of course, has bowed out entirely, leaving only the following members of the [Name] Protection Squad present for today’s meeting: Neito, presiding. Itsuka, reluctant but with a sense of obligation. Hitoshi is steadfast in his attendance, Mina had plans she couldn’t cancel, and Tsuyu comes in her stead with the promise to inform her of any happenings.

“Anyone else think it’s weird that Loverboy isn’t here?” Hitoshi comments, his breath puffing white in the February air. “You’d think he’d drop everything if it meant helping out his human.”

Neito nods, sighing. “He wouldn’t respond at all. I even tried calling him.”

Hitoshi makes a questioning grunt, but shrugs it off. “Alright. Probably just busy.”

“Or he’s just not in a good state, kero.” Tsuyu places a finger to her chin. “I think I remember [name] mentioning that that girl who died was one of his TAs. He’s with [name], so I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Right.”

“So why are we here, again?” Hitoshi leans against the wall behind him, arms crossed. Tonight, they’d chosen the campus swingset to hand out near, surrounded in its high walls. It’s nice. Secluded.

“As I’m sure we’re all very aware, we’ve made little to no progress breaking their thrall,” Neito says. “Not for lack of trying, but for lack of information.”

The group nods in their own time.

“Didn’t you have some idea about that?”

He nods back. “I did. But we have a slight snag in the plan. It’s going to be more complicated than I expected.”

“Why’s that?” It’s the first Itsuka’s spoken since agreeing to tag along. Neito brought her in hopes that she’d tell him if he was being a dumbass. Here’s hoping the plan holds up to her well-honed dumbass detection.

“So, the plan was to start seeing [name]’s old therapist. Genuinely, I was going to continue seeing her, because as I’m sure we’re all aware, I’m not the most… hinged member of society.”

“Damn right,” Hitoshi grumbles. Neito blissfully waves it off.

“But since she is [name]’s former therapist, she should still have [name]’s therapy notes.”

Tsuyu blinks into realization. “Oh. Evidence.”

He snaps his fingers. “Exactly! I intended to enthrall the therapist, get the notes, and then wipe her memory of the exchange. It would have been perfect evidence—notes from someone who wouldn’t benefit from falsifying notes, and [name] could consider forgiving me for the breach in privacy later.”

“So what went wrong? Clearly you wouldn’t be talking like this if it’d worked.”

He pulls a thin smile. “Well, it would have worked beautifully if she wasn’t a vampire herself.”

He snorts. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“So, what?” Itsuka raises an eyebrow. “What are you thinking instead?”

“Murder,” he says flatly. “Obviously.”

She’s not impressed.

“That was a joke, in case it wasn’t clear. I don’t want to let go of the plan to get her therapy notes, but without being able to enthrall her therapist, I’m not sure how else we would get them. Unless… we make some plans.”

He waves his arms out in invitation. “Who wants to violate some patient privacy rights?”

~

Izuku does not approve of you being out and about right now. Tenya, for his part, isn't much of a fan, either, after you told him about the whole deal with Momo and her missing killer, but he jumped at your call and was more than happy to come with you when you invited him out. You both need to worry about birthday present shopping for Tsuyu, anyway, and birthdays don't stop for anxieties about potential murderers.

Your marks have been itching plenty lately. Last night, you went out with Mina, and you felt it, the low burn of eyes on you. Someone marking you.

You, in all your alcohol-fueled indifference, could not have given less of a shit.

So here you are, hungover, in a bright mall, probably looking like an absolute disaster especially next to Tenya, always well-kept Tenya. He doesn’t approve of your general state right now, either, of course he doesn’t, but there’s a softness in his disapproval. A kindness.

It’s been five days since the fight, and you still haven’t told anyone about it. You haven’t talked to Izuku, either, except for one word on his weekly feeding day. You’d stormed into his office, pulled him up to stand with his face in your neck by the collar of his shirt, demanded drink, and then left when he was done.

(He had cried after, when you didn’t even let him bandage the marks, but that’s not your problem.)

That being said, no one’s been told what’s going on, at least, not by you. But it doesn’t take a genius to realize that you’re not well. You’re skipping classes. You went out drinking with Mina on a Thursday night, for crying out loud! You look like shit with unwashed, unkempt hair, and Mina’s single attempt to tease you about Izuku as usual had been met with a cold shutdown.

If nothing else, Tenya isn’t having it. One hour into your failed gift shopping excursion, you barely with the energy to hold a conversation, he steers you to the food court, sits you down, and wordlessly gets in line for the little bakery pop-up.

You, exhausted, have nothing in you to question it with.

You check your phone.

Tsuyu to [name] at 1:02PM

Tsuyu: Hey, can I ask you something?

Oh, yeah, she’s probably the only one out of the loop. You haven’t seen her yet since That Day™, given that your schedules somehow always keep you from randomly running into each other and it’s not time for the monthly lunch meetup yet this month. Not that you don’t think Mina would have gossiped at least a little bit about your firm backslide into depression territory. (She means well, you’re sure. She’s just nosy.)

Tsuyu: And I get if you’re not okay with this. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want an answer

Tsuyu: But would you be mad if I asked Tenya out? I know you both have history and everything, but I really

You stop reading. Your chest feels tighter than it already did. For whatever reason, you can’t breathe. You want to hit something. Hard.

Whatever else she’s said, you don’t even bother reading it. With clumsy fingers, you bang out a response.

[name]: I don’t relly care

[name]: go for it!

There. Now you’re just left with the questions of the thing.

Your neck is burning again. You palm at the marks, massaging them in hopes of soothing them, but it provides little relief. You’re staring wordlessly at your now-black phone screen, absently rubbing your neck as your mind races.

A drop of water falls onto the screen.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you give a shit if your friends go out with each other? Are you just upset because of the thing with Izuku? It must be, right? Straws break the backs of camels all the time. Anyone in such a fragile state would get upset over their friend group dynamic shifting. It’s normal.

You have no reason to worry about this. There’s absolutely no reason to be upset. You’re being ridiculous.

So what if Tsuyu asks Tenya out? So what if they’ve been spending time together. It’s not like that means anything. It’s not like you care if one of your best friends gets together with your—

With your—

with

(something is creaking something is bending something is)

“Hey, sorry about the wait.” Tenya slides something across the table into your field of vision—a cheese danish, a cup of what you can only assume is hot chocolate. “You seemed like you—[name]?”

(Something snaps back into place. The pain in your head is blinding, for just a moment.)

You blink around in confusion. “What?”

“You’re crying.”

A hand comes up to feel at your cheeks, and sure enough, your palm comes away wet. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m—my head is fucking killing me.”

“That’s why we drink water when we go out to the bar with our best friend,” he replies, voice gentle. He also slides a small cup of water towards you.

You look up at him. The tray he’d brought everything over on is empty now. He only ordered for you.

“You didn’t get anything for yourself,” you mumble, not yet reaching for anything he’s brought you.

He has the gentlest smile as he shakes his head. “I didn’t stop because I was hungry. I stopped because you needed a moment.”

“When did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to. I know you, [name].”

And then you’re crying all over again, and Tenya is leaving, only to come back and press some tissues in your free hand. You don’t use them, merely crumple them in your hand.

“I don’t think you’re crying over a headache,” he says at last.

“I don’t—“ A quiet sob wrenches itself from your throat. “That’s just it! I don’t know what I’m crying about!”

“Drink some water. Slow sips. Okay?”

You forgot he could be like this. Gentle with you. Warm. These days, you’re so used to him being cold, carefully distant.

Like he’s afraid of something.

(Like Izuku.)

You disobey him, just a little. The entire cup of water gets downed like a shot, and then you’re reaching harshly for your cheese danish, and there’s a hand on your wrist, stopping you before you can angrily down the entire cheese danish.

“Take a breath. You’re clearly upset about something.”

The worry in his eyes is all it takes to at last break you. His hand remains around your wrist as the words tumble out of your mouth, clumsy, one after another.

“I got in a fight with Izuku. I was—he’s—he’s—“ You choke on the words.

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

Remembering the sting in your arm, the burns on him that cover his one hand and peek out of his shirt collar, you drop your voice into a near-whisper. Especially given the ache in your bite wounds. Not again. “He’s hunting the man that turned him. His sire. And I don’t… I don’t want to tell him not to. The man’s horrible. A serial killer. Killed his parents. But…”

“He’s a what?”

The hand on your wrist is still. Any warmth, any gentleness in his expression has snapped away.

Burn-scarred fingers on burn-scarred skin. Adolescent wounds into adolescent wounds.

“A serial killer?”

“I… I see.” He swallows harshly. “Right. So Izuku is hunting him?”

“He’s been obsessed recently. I don’t think he’s ever paused from it completely, but, you know, it’s been bad. I’ve been having to force him to feed. Remind him to shower and sleep and change clothes. I started doing his laundry because he’s been so focused he’s been forgetting and I don’t think he even noticed. He spends all day either blazing through his work to get it over with as soon as he can or scouring the internet for information.”

“I… I see.”

“And it’s scary! It’s really scary! And I think… you know, um… that girl? Who died?”

His face is carefully still. “You could say that.”

“I’m not supposed to know this, but they think she was killed. And she… she had bite marks and stab wounds. You know, like the serial killer I roomed with did to her victims. But also like how… how Izuku’s sire left his victims. So either his target’s close, or else my nightmare is, and if it’s his sire, then… then…”

The tears fall, unbidden. “I asked him what he was going to do when his sire was gone. And he told me that he’ll probably die when that man does. And I got mad. Because he apologized. He said he was sorry. He was lying.”

“Oh, [name]…”

“And I just… I don’t know, I’m pissed! I’ve barely said a word to him since and I don’t know how to live like this! What if he dies, Tenya? What if I lose him like—like—“ You break off.

Like who?

He waits patiently. “Like who…?” he says when it becomes clear that you’re not going to finish the sentence.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I just… I’m pissed off, I guess. And I don’t know how to handle this. I think I might go back to therapy, but I don’t have any money, and…”

He nods. “Right. Izuku’s been paying for everything.”

“Yeah. He has.”

For a long time, he’s silent. You gently pry your wrist from his grasp to take small bites of your cheese danish.

When at last he speaks, there’s a glint of something rare in Tenya’s eyes.

Mischief.

“I can’t take you to therapy, [name].”

“I wasn’t asking you to,” you reply weakly.

“But there is a place I think you would enjoy to blow off some steam. I’ll take full responsibility for any injuries incurred.”

…

“What?”

“Finish your cheese danish and your hot chocolate,” he orders. “After that, we’ll go.”

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[gothicknightz]

sick boy — xavier thorpe

summary: xavier is sick and tired of dealing with his thoughts. for the first time, someone tries to help him with them.

warning: general mental health mentions, a character is mentally tired and out of it, mentions of blood.

Always the outcast.

Always the overlooked.

Always the underestimated.

Always the lone wolf.

He threw the sketchbook across the room, yelling out in frustration and anger.

Why couldn’t he do anything right?

Why was he the one everyone always gossiped about like he didn’t have feelings just like them?

Why was he so insecure about the genuine love he received?

His thoughts consumed him like a virus, and soon enough he found himself in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at himself in disgust.

Maybe his dad was right. Maybe he’ll never hold it in the ‘real world.’

Maybe he’ll end up alone, shrouded in fame and infamy like his dad.

He didn’t want to be alone.

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt the tears fall down his face, quickly becoming angered by his own emotions, and punching the mirror.

He knew his dad was going to pay for that. And now his fist was bleeding.

He had to hide it all. His feelings. His pain.

He only allowed himself to convey it in art.

The pain hurt even worse than he thought, pulling out the shards that managed to pierce his skin into the trash.

The sting hurt worse than the glass, the burning engrained in the back of his mind, muttering a curse under his breath.

As he wrapped up his hand, he walked back to his bed, unlocked his phone gingerly, and put on some music. 

It annoyed him that he had to feel all of this. Annoyed that his father put him through this, and that he was going to have to explain himself to his therapist tomorrow.

He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling before the silence of slumber consumed him. Hopefully, this feeling would all change soon.

The next morning was all the same; get up, go to class, eat lunch, go to therapy, then back to his own thoughts.

He needed some change soon, or he was going to lose it.

He didn’t like losing to his own thoughts, it made him feel weak.

At least that’s what his dad told him.

He went on a late-night jog this time, preferring to ignore his feelings instead of creating a portrait of them.

The music was loud, and it was lightly raining out, as he was tired of the nights with his thoughts eating at his own self-worth.

What a sick boy he was.

He sighed after finishing his run, deciding to hide in the shadows of the forest, taking refuge against a tree as he sat down.

He wanted to destroy everything behind him, including his past, erasing every moment that was ever good to him.

Which was a rare occurrence.

He had his head down, having no regard for his hair as it was down this time.

It covered his view as his eyes were closed shut, the thoughts clawing at him, threatening tears once again.

Until he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he looked up to see someone actually attempting to talk to him instead of making fun of him.

“What do you want?” Came out of his mouth, as anyone who had tried to talk to him previously only ever made fun of him.

“I just wanted to know if you’re okay.” They asked, backing up as the bitter words came from the boy’s mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. You can continue your walk now.” He tried dismissing the person away, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Do you go to Nevermore?” 

He furrowed his brows and stood up, “You know, you can save yourself the breath. I already know I’m a freak. A shit show.”

The person across from him frowned, “I go there too. I just recognized you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He scoffed and crossed his arms, starting to turn around, “Yeah, you’ve mentioned it. Now, why don’t you go back to where you came from.”

“You’re that psychic boy.”

The boy stopped in his tracks, “Got anything to say about it?” He answered bitterly, a disgruntled look on his face.

“I’ve seen your drawings. You’re really good.”

“Thanks.” He replied shortly, “You really should be getting back, though, and stop wasting my time.”

“I don’t see you leaving.”

He scoffed, “Fine, you got me. What else do you want?”

“To be your friend. You look like you could need one here.”

The boy laughed wryly, “Thanks for the thoughtful words, but I don’t need any. I’m fine on my own.”

He started to walk away, having enough social interaction for the day, and whoever this person was, they weren’t giving up at all.

“Xavier.” They said, which caused him to turn around quickly.

“Oh, so you do know my name. I’m not just that psychic boy, huh?” Xavier said this with pure sarcasm and rude intent behind it.

“You’re not going to be.” They paused, “(y/n).”

Xavier gave them a disinterested look before scoffing and walking away.

“I prefer to be alone.” He muttered under his breath.

[le-parole-piu-grandi]

Oh well, here we go again.

It’s a pretty difficult period of my life now. I’ve been kinda betrayed and still can’t fully recover. I never expected a friend (or so I thought) who I knew for over 3 years to be able to start something romantic with my man, who has been with me for almost 10 years.. it even sounds crazy.

Yes, he is 50% guilty too, but he talked to me, explained the situation and I was able to at least start forgiving him. It hurt, and it still does, but at least the biggest thing they did was a hug. No kisses or something more.

And it’s not even that hug I worry about. It’s the fact that he was giving most of his time and emotions to someone else. He lied. He didn’t say the whole truth. And he wasn’t brave enough to just to talk to me when it all had just started.

Sometimes when I think about this whole situation, I feel like I’m acting and feeling like a child. That I should be wiser and smarter. But it’s just how I feel. Now I just want to spill it out a bit again.

As for HER… she never even tried to explain anything. She just flipped the page and moved on. I’m still afraid of the day when I’ll accidentally meet her on the streets of our hometown (it’s very small, so it’s inevitable unless she moves somewhere else). I can’t do conflicts. I get nervous, I get out of breath and can’t think straight in these moments. But I also want to be able to be angry at her face to face. I want to show her how much her actions hurt. I want to understand why she did it to me.

I always thought she was a good person. But she was willing to take what’s mine anyway. Without me knowing, without her fiancé knowing.

And she kept texting my man even after I found out. Even after she had told him that they would no longer communicate. She couldn’t even keep her word. What the hell is going on in her mind?

It was always hard to tell what kind of person she is, but during the last weeks of our communication she seemed quite friendly. She didn’t like to share before. Once she bought a swimming suit, a nice and cheap one, and got mad that her boyfriend told me the name of the shop where she got it. That was so weird for me… But recently she recommended a nail salon, for example. We went to different cafes together every other week, the four of us. We spent time together: went riding snow mobiles, went for walks or rides. It was fun.

And then I found out. I couldn’t even believe it. When I saw in my boyfriend phone that the chat with her was deleted, I had no idea. I couldn’t even imagine that they got into a romantic relationship. There was a clapping monkey in my mind. It’s so strange now, because it was kinda obvious.

Then he lied. I saw it right away. He was just waiting for my reaction. I started to get dressed, because I couldn’t calm down. I decided to go out (at 3 am), because I couldn’t think about anything else to do. I felt like a broken toy, which is no longer needed. I hate this feeling, had a lot of it in my childhood. He asked me what I was doing. I said that he didn’t even respect me, because he kept lying and lying. That’s when he asked me to sit down by him and listen to the truth.

I was shocked.

Turned out it had been going on for about a month. And I had no idea.

I usually write the details (oh yeah, I’ve been journaling this situation a lot, because I can’t afford therapy right now), but now I just don’t want to. The important moment is that he had started the whole thing. He had a dream that they had a relationship, and that’s when he decided to act on it. How simple is that…

But she was the one who asked to keep it all secret (or so he says). I prefer to believe that, in order to be able to forgive him. There is no way to find out the truth now.

That’s why I hate her. She acted like a rat. No apologies, no explanations. Just spitting in my soul and moving on.

And also all these manipulations. “Ultimatums”. She must have felt so powerful. How can a good person turn out to be such a snake?..

He came to her for advice and she acted like a therapist. Even though she doesn’t even have a good relationship herself. Nor does she go to a therapist herself. She told him what he must do and how he must feel. She analyzed my thoughts and actions. It’s so disgusting.

I just want an explanation. But I guess it’s not gonna happen. Oh, well) saving money and going to therapy, that should do!

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

The World Is Better, With You By My Side

by borrowedstolenandused

“What’s your name?”

“Will. Will Gold” Will smiled at him.

“You’ve got a similar name to one of my old friends.” Tommy grimaced. “Oh really? That’s co-” “He’s a prick.” “Oh.”

“I’ve decided I hate you even more now.” Tommy said, triumphantly. “Gimme your cup.”

Will Gold handed the blonde barista his coffee cup and the younger man whipped a sharpie out of his pocket.

He muttered to himself as he inked the words onto the cup. “Bitch…… Boy……” He handed the cup back and saw the mock offence creep back onto the bitch boy’s face.

“Wow.” He faked tears in his voice. “Fuck you too.”

or

Tommyinnit is depressed and a random bitch boy customer helps him to appreciate the world and the people around him.

Words: 2577, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Video Blogging RPF

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson | Philza, Cara | CaptainPuffy, Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF)

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit

Additional Tags: Villain Wilbur Soot, Villain Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Civilian TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Break (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs Help (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs Therapy (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, No Romance, Sleepy Bois Inc as Found Family, Hero Toby Smith | Tubbo, Hero Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF)

[cjsinkythoughts]

His Only Contact

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1014

Warnings: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Spoilers!!!! A little angst, a little fluff, no cursing (I think)

A/N: This is a quick thing I wrote because I can’t sleep after watching that episode. I have so many ideas. I might continue this, too (just like everything else I write because I’m incapable of writing one-shots), but I’ll probably just write a few drabbles here and there when new episodes come out. I also added HBC’s Lucky in Love prompt for Day 19 in here, which is Odds.

FATWS SERIES MASTERLIST

Find my Day 14 Prompt here - Spring Forwards - and my Day 18 Prompt here - Ocean Eyes, Cherry Lips, Ivory Keys

AGAIN: SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

Shooting up. Greedily sucking in air. Sweat sliding down skin. Adrenaline rushing through veins. Wide eyes darting around the room.

Another night. Another nightmare. He was starting to think he’d never get another restful sleep.

The floor was hard beneath him, far better than the soft, malleable mattress he had in his practically empty room. The TV was on, as it always was, the soft glow making his eyes squint. The apartment was silent except for his pants, empty except for his shuddering form. He’s shirt was off - he didn’t like it sticking to him, it was too constricting, and he always ran hot anyways - his sheets tangled with his legs.

Reaching over to the small couch besides him, his hand slid over the cushions until he found what he was looking for.

He flipped open the small phone, going straight to the Contact page. He only had one in this phone. This phone no one knew about except them two. Not Sam, not his therapist. No one.

He quickly dialed the number, leaning back against the couch and letting out a puff of air. Finally, after a few rings, an exhausted voice came through, hoarse with sleep.

“Hello?”

“Hey…it’s me.”

“Oh. Hey. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, no. Everything’s…I’m…we just haven’t talked in a while.”

“I know. I’ve been meaning to call, but-”

“No, no. I get it. What you’re doing is important.”

“You’re important, too, Buck.”

Bucky took a breath, a small nod moving his head. “Uh, so, how’s the search? Found anything yet?”

“No. I’m in Edinburgh right now. They met here right before the whole thing in Wakanda…I thought she might come back.”

“No such luck?”

“No…you know what she did. What she’s capable of. The odds of finding her…” He heard her sigh and a frown etched onto his features. She sounded tired, but she spoke before he could bring it up. “What about you? How’re you doing?”

“I dunno, honestly.”

“Yeah. Okay, that’s fair. How’s therapy going with what’s-her-face?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “It’s basically the same every session. ‘Are you having nightmares?’ ‘Are you making amends?’ ‘Are you following the three rules?’ ‘This is part of your pardon.’ Yadda yadda yadda.”

“Is it helping at all, at least?”

“I guess. The amends thing gives me something to do if nothing else.”

“Are you following the rules, though?”

“No one will know if I don’t.” The giggle she gives makes him brighten up. “I got lunch with Yori again on Wednesday.”

“Oh? How was that?”

“Fine. Good, even. I guess. I dunno. He set me up on a date with the girl who works behind the counter at Izzy.”

“OOooo! Fun! Is she pretty?”

“As a picture.”

“What did you do?”

“Played Battleship and drank. A lot in my case. Not that it did much...”

“James-”

“No, no! Not like that! She made it into a drinking game! I was losing.”

“You?”

“I’m a super soldier assassin. I don’t have x-ray vision.”

“Okay, okay. What went down after Battleship?”

“I, uh…I ran out on her.”

“Oh no. Why? What happened?”

“She, uh…she started talking about how nice it is for me to spend time with Yori and his son…I went to tell him, you know. I looked him in the eye and opened my mouth…but I saw a picture. Of his son.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Buck. You know that. It wasn’t you.”

He didn’t feel like arguing with her, so he just agreed. “Yeah. I guess.”

He could feel her suspicion through the phone, but luckily she decided not to pursue the topic. She always seemed to know what to say and when. “Did you have a good time at least? While you were there I mean?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess. I was - I was really awkward, I think. I dunno. It’s been a while.”

“But it’s better than online dating. I told you that was a bad idea.”

“You were also the one who told me to jump in head first.”

“Not on the internet. You psycho. There’s really whack jobs out there.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Hey!” He chuckled at her faux-offended tone, picturing her hand over her heart mockingly. “That hurt!”

“Kidding. You know I love you.”

“As long as you know I love you back…have you talked to Sam lately?”

“Uh…no. Not…not recently. How is he?”

“He’s fine. We just talked earlier. He’s in Louisiana right now with his sister. He’s got some family dilemma he’s trying to fix. He, uh, he gave the shield up earlier this week. Apparently the new Smithsonian exhibit is pretty good. Maybe we’ll check it out sometime…what do think?”

“Yeah. Maybe. Sometime. Are-are you coming back soon?”

“I was planning to. I really don’t think I’ve got any chance of finding Wanda at the moment. Or Vision for that matter. I still can’t believe SWORD didn’t contact us. I’m so pissed.”

“I know. Maybe it’s good you didn’t get informed, though. We all know how you get when it comes to the team.”

“The Avengers are my family, Bucky. I’m loyal to a fault, you know that.”

“Yeah. I do. I think Steve rubbed off on you after all those years.”

“You think?”

“Definitely.”

They fell into a comfortable, contemplative silence, Bucky’s eyes watching the screen of the TV still glowing from across the room. “What if I dropped by tomorrow? Is that too soon?”

“Tomorrow as in today? It’s one o’clock here.”

“It’s five here. So tomorrow as in tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“Either one would be fine, but yeah. Get some rest. Call me when you have your flight information.”

“Okay. You get some rest, too. Or, at least, try to. You sound tired.”

“You know I don’t sleep well without you.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow. Promise. Then we can stay in all day and you can catch up on sleep.”

“How long will you be here?”

“As long as you need me, James. Good night.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

Bucky hesitated, before shaking his head. “G’night, doll. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Buckaroo.”

[lubdubsworld]

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

ABO Dynamics.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts. 

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[  Author’s Note :  物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1

 Chapter 2

I wrapped the white wool shawl tighter around my shoulders. The night was still chilly and the and smelt faintly of impending rain. Why they would plan a party outside while it rained, was beyond me.

After my little skirmish with Jungkook, I had found Namjoon quickly only to be told that we couldn’t leave for another hour at least because there was a  certain investor who wanted to meet Namjoon . The guy was running late and he had to wait for him. So here I stood, shivering lightly, all while keeping an eye on my husband as he got progressively drunk.

Namjoon’s words made me sigh a little.

“You can’t decide what someone else’s normal is, Namjoon. Especially when it comes to grief.  But the drinking is an issue. And you’re right about the therapist. I know she’s doing her best but I’m not sure if she has the right answers for him. Or even the right tools to help him.”

“I’ve been searching up on therapists who specialize with alphas. There’s one in Itaewon , his name is Kim Taehyung. I really think he could help. He’s an alpha himself.”

“That sounds good. Betas may not fully understand alpha mating bonds or what it’s like when one of them dies. Taehyung may have a better understanding of what Jungkook’s going through.” I nodded, a little hopeful. 

Therapy with the beta lady the hospital had recommended wasn’t really helping Jungkook the way it ought to.

Namjoon hesitated.

“Would you be willing to go with him? Taehyung insists a family member stay in the waiting room just in case...” he asked gently. I turned back to look at my husband, leaning on the mahogany countertop of the bar, fingers curled around a glass of whiskey.

“And I’m the one you want to consider for that? That’s ridiculous. Jungkook hates me.” Did I really have remind him of this salient fact? 

“I’ve offered to, before.  He doesn’t want me there." I sighed as Jungkook threw the drink back with ease.

“That was three months ago though. Things have changed now right?” Namjoon prodded.

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not between us they haven’t. He’s spending more time with Mina and he isn’t throwing stuff around but he still loathes me.”

“He loathes what you represent: his own shortcomings and failures. Your father wasn’t kind in his approach and you are a reminder of all the things he can’t control.”

How fucking unfair,  I thought playing with the tiny  ring on my finger ( or should i say handcuff really? ), my wedding ring , the platinum band engraved with my husband’s name, a drop of his blood embossed into the metal. 

An archaic tradition, that carried no meaning in modern Seoul but the idea of it was still alive and well. The idea that what we had was a blood bond, imbued in our veins now.  An alpha’s connection with a beta or an alpha mate was usually quite fragile. But an alpha and omega mate bond. That was supposed to be powerful. 

Unless the alpha was still phantom bonded to a dead wife , that is. It was odd thing. Mate bonds had to be mutual to work. So there was no bond between Jungkook and I . We didn’t have any feelings for each other of course. But wearing someone’s blood on yourself changed that . it forced a bond that wasn’t there. It was ancient magic and it worked on my kind. Not on his. 

How fucking unfair because it wasn’t like I could control any of this either? 

I grimaced. I had thought of taking the ring off 

“Ouch.” I said with a smile. Namjoon waved off my self pity with an eye roll. 

“You know what I mean. Even for an Alpha, Jungkook has always held on to his pride. Losing his wife and his company all in the same week probably left him feeling incredibly helpless and your father browbeat him into this whole thing. Of course he isn’t going to be eager to share heart to heart talks with you. ”

I held my hand up. 

“I know all that Namjoon. I was there, remember? And I’m not blaming him for any of that. Trauma makes you do shitty things and I understand that . I also understand that if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t behave the way he does now. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t change his mind for him. If he doesn’t want to get help, I’m kind of helpless myself, you know?”

Namjoon reached out and squeezed my hand.  

“I’m just asking you this because , he does listen to you at times. I’ve noticed it. He doesn’t outwardly agree with you but he takes your opinions into consideration. And, Heejin you live with him and you’re the one who managed to convince him to start scenting Mina. ”

And God, how exhausting that had been. I had kept at it because Mina was so young and she needed her father’s scent to grow. And while i could be persistent when necessary,  I couldn’t work miracles. 

“Namjoon oppa, “ I said softly, trying to explain myself without sounding like a horrible human, “  I don’t hate Jungkook. Far from it. I want him to get the help he needs and I’m here for him. If you can convince him to go see Taehyung and he’s okay with me coming along, I won’t say no. Mina needs him and there’s nothing I would like more than for him to get better. ” i smiled a little, “ But he’s still going to have to be the one to make that choice. i can’t make it for him.” 

Namjoon nodded.

“ Fair enough. Well,  I’ll talk to him about it. We’ll set something up. Thank you for not refusing Heejinah. I know it can’t be easy for you either. 

I opened my mouth to respond but out of the corner of my eyes I caught a glimpse of someone, staring intently right at me.

 I turned sharply, eyes locking with those of Kim Yugyeom and I stiffened, stepping closer to Namjoon on instinct.  Yugyeom smirked, winking at me. 

I shuddered in disgust. 

Creep.

Namjoon followed my line of vision and swore.

“This motherfucker.” He made to move towards him. and I grabbed his arm, fingers digging into his forearm. The last thing i wanted to witness was an alpha alpha showdown in the middle of a party with me in the middle. 

“Please, no. Don’t make a scene. It’s what he wants.”

“Jungkook has the shittiest friends on the planet.” Namjoon shook his head and I couldn’t agree more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mina’s appointment with the doctor went about as expected. She was right on time with her milestones and I sat in the waiting office for a mere twenty minutes before being called in. The doctor, an alpha named Min Yoongi gave me a small smile of recognition before flipping through the pages of her file.

“ Jungkook didn’t come along?” He asked casually, grabbing a pen and making a note of her weight and length before plotting it on the small graph. She was a little on the smaller side but she was growing well. 

“He’s busy...” i said with a shrug, “ So I still keep giving her the polyvisol supplements?” 

Yoongi nodded, “ The nurse will fill in the prescription for you. Are you sure he’s busy? He called me last night and told me he wanted to come see me?” 

I blinked. 

“He did ? “ I couldn’t quite process this. 

“He wanted to talk about how she’s doing and I told him he could come in for her appointment today.”

I imagined a world where Jungkook actually spoke to me, instead of forcing  me to navigate stormy waters on rotten plywood. Nine more months, i told myself firmly, already digging for my phone. Nine more months and I would be out of this living hell I’d gotten trapped in. 

“Can I try calling him? He’s probably forgotten. I think he might regret missing out.” I begged and Yoongi gave me a small smile, waving me off. 

“Of course you can Heejin-ah and tell him that if he wants I can drop by at the office and talk to him as well.” 

I nodded quickly , moving out to the waiting area while the nurses held Mina, soothing her before getting her ready for her shots. I tried calling him and not surprisingly he didn’t pick up. I called his office next and Jungkook’s secretary picked up the phone .

The woman hated me. 

“He’s busy.” She said curtly.” He’s specifically asked me not to bother him with stuff that isn’t important.” 

Her whiny voice grated on my ears and i bit my lips to keep the irritation in. 

“Since when does his daughter make that list, Ms Lee?” I said calmly and she hesitated. 

“He’s in a meeting right now and-”

“I’m in the hospital with his daughter. I hope you’re willing to take the heat when he finds out that you wouldn’t let me get through to him. “ I said casually. 

It was a twisted version of the truth for sure. Meant to imply that Mina was hurt in some way. But I couldn’t bring myself to regret it much. I had enough on my plate without dealing with twenty year old secretaries who fancied themselves in love with their hot boss. 

 “I... just a moment, Mrs. Jeon.” 

I loathed the name. It wasn’t mine. It was hers and I felt like a thief every time someone addressed me that way.

After two minutes, Jungkook’s  familiarly low and perpetually exhausted voice came out ,

“Hello? Heejin?” He sounded listless and his voice just a little slurred and i groaned. 

“Please tell me you aren’t drunk.” I whispered. 

“I’m not. “ He said shortly. “ What’s wrong? What happened? Is Mina alright? ”

“Did you tell Yoongi that you were going to meet him today?” 

He was quiet for a second. 

“i’ll talk to him.”

He hung up and I stared at the phone. I realized that I shouldn’t have called him in the first place. Should have asked Yoongi to call him himself. What was wrong with me? Even a few syllables exchanged with Jungkook felt like staring into an abyss . 

I moved back to the clinic , just as Mina plaintive wail filled the room. The shots were done. It took us another thirty five minutes to finish filling her prescriptions and for Yoongi to finish examining her. She was already dozing off and I wasn’t supposed to feed her for another thirty minutes so perhaps the nap would do her good.  I had just finished settling her into her Bjorn carrier  when Jungkook’s voice came from the entryway. 

“Is this the way to Dr. Min’s office?” 

I glanced back to watch him . He looked ridiculously handsome in a three piece suit, jacket thrown over his arm and hair lightly damp from the misty drizzle outside. I saw the secretary’s mouth actually drop open and stay agape as she tried to process his questions. i could see the way his beauty had rendered her entirely witless and as someone who had experienced it first hand , i could sympathize, 

But Jungkook was beginning to look annoyed from the lack of response and i decided to give the poor girl a break. 

“He’s waiting for you.” I called out and Jungkook startled. He glanced up at me and for some reason he looked surprised. He always looked surprised when he saw me. As if i was just some monster out of his worst nightmares turning up in odd places . As if he couldn’t quite believe that i did exist in his life now. Unwelcome but impossible to avoid. 

“You’re here.” He said blankly. 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 

“Yes, i am. I’ve been here for three months now. “ i said shortly, before i could stop myself, “ Mina’s fine.  She just had her shots. I’m going to drive home and put her down for a nap. Do you want me to come with you ?” I pointed at the clinic. 

He hesitated before shaking his head. 

It was all according to script then. Jungkook would never include me in a single thing. Even if i was smack damn in the middle of the room with nowhere else to go. 

“Alright. i’ll see you after work.” 

“We’ll have guests for dinner today. ” He said suddenly. 

I stared at him, confused.

“For dinner??”

“ Sooah’s parents.” 

Oh, God. 

Wary of the extra nurses suddenly filling the room, the little whispers and the curious glances, i kept my smile even. 

“Of course. ” I bowed a little before turning on my heel and walking away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sooah’s parents were, for lack of a better word, selfish . 

They had lost a daughter, so of course i could understand with their need to keep their daughter’s memory alive. But the way they chose to do it was unhealthy and borderline vindictive. 

" She’s growing well.” Mrs. Kim had the same statuesque figure as her model daughter and she held her grandchild with a slightly unsure grip and Mina felt the uncertainty in her grip, breaking out into cries at once. I stayed still, my throat dry from disuse. I hadn’t said a word since they came in. 

We were seated at the table, dinner was done. 

Jungkook sat next to me, staring straight ahead while his father in law tried to engage him in conversation. 

With Jungkook, the grief came in waves. Some days, the waves were small and gentle, like the ones that lapped at your feet on the shore of a tranquil lake. on those days e went about his day as usual, spoke to his friends and signed deals.  And somedays they were big, behemoths carrying guilt and accusation, crashing over his head with a vengeance. 

On those days , he looked like he’d been run over by a two ton truck. 

Today was just one of those days and i could sense it.

The man was going on an on about some charity that Sooah had been involved in as a young girl... Could Jungkook make a contribution in her name?. Could Jungkook pay for a concert of her favorite singer in her hometown..?  Could Jungkook possibly consider contributing to opening a foundation in her name? 

I could feel the urge to scream, grow by the minute.

 Each syllable that spilled out of her father’s mouth was aggravating, the sentences began and ended with her name, over and over over again and It felt terribly like she was standing right next to me, ice cold and dead but real and relentless at the same time. He spoke of her like she was still alive and i couldn’t fathom how that was healthy. How that was going to help Jungkook move on.

 If anything it made it harder for him to move on. 

And in a moment of chilling clarity, i realized  that this is what they wanted. 

They didn’t want Jungkook to move on from her. They wanted him to be consumed by her. In the wake of that realization , i felt anger surge. 

There was just enough hurt and heartbreak and pain and grief in this room without these idiots adding to it. 

“Jungkook is tired tonight, uncle.. Perhaps we can discuss this later.” I said finally, unable to bear it any more.

The man gave me a glare.

“I wasn’t talking to you girl.” He said sharply. I frowned. 

“We’re trying to help Jungkook. “ The woman said sharply. “ Unlike you and your father we do not prey on the weak. “ 

Jungkook shifted at the phrase and I glared at her.

“He isn’t weak. “ I snapped, resisting the urge to add on a you bitch , “He’s grieving . And what he needs is space to process his grief. Not you people trying to shove your daughter into his throat with every sentence. “

“Don’t you dare talk about our daughter!” Mrs. Kim snarled and i felt a headache come on.

“I thought that was why you were here? To talk about her? Or should I say use her as an excuse to get money out of him??  What you’re doing is unfair and awful!! . Jungkook isn’t ready to talk about this and one look at his face should tell you that, if you even bothered looking at anything except his wallet.” I shouted. 

“Heejin, that’s enough.” Jungkook said hoarsely and i bit my lips. 

Of course he wasn’t going to support me even if we were on the same side. Defending him, protecting him was exhausting and it was such a thankless job. i wanted it to end. 

“I think we should call this a night. please, just leave” I said sharply, standing up and reaching for Mina. She glared at me but handed the baby over. 

“You don’t get to make that decision. My son in law is who I’m here to see. You’re just the parasite that’s attached herself to him. You sit there in my daughter’s place and you dare disrespect me this way. ” The woman snapped.

“Its still my house. “ I gritted out. “ I’m married to Jungkook whether you like it or not and so i have the right to ask you to get out of my house.” 

“Heejin, stop.” Jungkook’s voice only made me angrier. He sounded drained and empty and still these leeches wanted to suck him dry. And he was too  blind to see it. 

“I’m done with this” I stood up moving to the small pack and play that sat in the corner of the living room. i placed Mina in and watcher her eyes flutter shut gently. 

i turned back to stare at Mrs. Kim.

“i want the pair of you to leave. Get out before I call security.” 

She gaped at me. 

“you had a wedding... that doesn’t make it a fucking marriage. “ she sneered. “ Its probably not even legal until you consummate it. So go ahead, call the cops right now. You think i wouldn’t take you to court. ??!! ” 

She was spouting absolute nonsense, probably driven by her own grief  but i wasn’t feeling particularly charitable tonight. 

“Why don’t you ask your son in law that? Ask him if the marriage was consummated or not...” I smirked. 

She faltered, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“No. You’re lying ...he wouldn’t.” She turned to Jungkook who looked at me with fury in his eyes. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He said sharply and I scoffed.

“With me? What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with these idiots that they think they can come here and ask you to sign a fucking cheque when you’re still out here grieving for their daughter?!”

“You don’t know shit about them or her...” 

“I don’t have to. I don’t have to and i don’t care to either. All I know is that i married you and you’re my husband and whether you meant those vows or not, i did. I swore in front of my God and my family and I’m going to keep those promises. I’m going to protect you because I love your daughter . I’m going to protect you because you need to fucking live to be able to care for her. “ 

i turned to stare at his in-laws. They were staring at me, some of the fire dying out and in the span of a few minutes they somehow looked older . 

“You don’t deserve to be here.” Mr. Kim said finally, voice cracking and i exhaled. 

“And yet, here I am. And I’m not leaving. you are.” I said calmly. 

They stared at me for one more second before standing up and moving out of the dining space and into the hallways leading out. 

“We’ll call you later Jungkook-ah...” The man said before walking out of the door and slamming it shut behind him. 

The silence between us grew heavier as the seconds ticked. 

“We can’t decide how people grieve.” Jungkook said softly. 

I stared at him in disbelief. 

“You’re telling  me  that , Jungkook? Or did you forget all the times I indulged you when the only way you could grieve was apparently  by forcing yourself on me.” i snapped. 

His eyes widened , just a fraction before going blank again. 

He took a deep breath and went on. 

“They lost their daughter and they’re hurting. We can’t tell them they aren’t allowed to honor her memory...They’re clearly in pain...”

“Not more than you!” i snapped. “ You’re the one in pain here Jungkook. Your pain is so much more than theirs ..... Or may be it isn’t i don’t know.. But i do know that I can’t sit here and watch them bleed all over you when you’re cut just as deep as them.” 

“You don’t know shit about e!” He roared. “ Don’t you fucking dare talk about my grief like you can understand it...like you actually know what its like to lose the woman who had your fucking heart, because if you did you wouldn’t have agreed to this fucking marriage...you wouldn’t be here in this room with me, intruding on my grief and my pain... “

The sound of his voice made my entire body freeze in fear. I stayed perfectly still, jumping when he crossed the distance between us and grabbed my face, fingers curling around my jaw. 

“ You want to know how i wanted to grieve? I wanted to grieve in solitude!!! I wanted to grieve without some fucking stranger hovering over my shoulder like a fucking plague!”

I exhaled shakily, fingers trembling as i reached up to hold his wrist, my entire jaw throbbing with how hard his grip was. 

“It’s the price you pay for getting your company back. Jeon Jungkook. “ I choked out.” Or did you forget that marrying me is the reason you aren’t homeless on the streets “

He laughed a little yanking me closer and wrapping an arm around my waist.

“You’ve learned to talk back these days...” He muttered , “ I think I preferred the girl who hid in the nursery for the first three weeks of our wedding.” 

“I wasn’t hiding . I was avoiding you. Because your misery was contagious and i didn’t want any of it on me.” I snapped and his hold on my waist tightened. 

“Are you trying to make me angry? ” He snapped, fingers curling on my waist and I swallowed the whimper of pain that threatened. 

“Maybe i am... Maybe anything is better than watching you walk around this house like a corpse. You’re alive so I don’t see why you act like you died with her.” 

He growled at that, eyes blazing as he stepped back enough to stare into my face. 

“You’re right... I didn’t die with her. Although i wanted to...Maybe if i wasn’t such a fucking coward, i would have gone through with it.  .” He laughed and I felt my heart go ice cold at the very thought of it. 

“You didn’t die... So why don’t you get some help. There’s no shame in getting help... Taehyung...”

“I don’t need help. i need to be alone.” He snarled. “ I need to be allowed to cry and mourn my wife the way I want to but you and your father made sure that i couldn’t.”

I sighed, looking away in defeat. 

“Fucking look at me!” He snarled, hands grabbing both my arms and yanking me forward. “ Why won’t you look at me huh?  is the guilt finally catching up?” 

“No. No guilt. Just loathing and resentment.” I snapped back and he laughed again.

“Well too bad. Because you know what? You’re right. I paid for my company with my right to grieve and you...you paid for my name with your right to say no . “ 

I swallowed as he yanked me away from the table, dragging me to the couch in the side. 

“ I never refused you a thing.” I choked out, breathing ragged as he shoved me into the soft leather surface, crawling on top of me at once. “ I only said no when you were drunk out of your mind. When you thought it was okay to fuck me and call me by her name.” 

He made swift work of the buttons of my blouse and I stayed still, arms lying by my side. 

“ Are you telling me you want this ? You expect me to believe you want my hands on your body?” He sneered, fingers moving up to grip my hair. “You don’t want this and you don’t want me....Just like i don’t want you either. i’ll never want you. ” 

“You don’t want me.??.. You have a funny way of showing it..”  I scoffed , staring right into his eyes rolling my hips up into his  , greeted by the hard press of his length against my thigh.   “ And to be honest i don’t give a damn if you’re still in love with her , all I want is my name on your lips if you want to get off with me. Because I’m not just a toy you can use to replace your dead wife. I have  a name and you should remember it.  "

He growled again, fingers squeezing hard against the back of my head till my scalp felt like it was on fire.

“I hate you. “ He said clearly. “ I hate you and everything you’ve done to me.” 

“Everything I’ve done to you? Oh you mean save your life? Taek care of your baby girl like she was my own? Give you the chance to rebuild your entire career.? Turn you into multi millionaire again?  Good. Hate me. The feelings mutual. “ I snapped. “Now if you hate me so much why are you still here? Get off me.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, wife.” He sneered. “ Because like you said, I’ve paid for this.” He drawled, reaching down and squeezing between my legs. “And I’d be a pretty bad businessman if i don’t collect from my investments.” 

Before I could retort, he pulled back, just enough to grab me by the waist and flip me over on my front. I flinched when he grabbed my arms, yanking them back and trapping my wrists together in his fist at the base of my spine. My cheeks pressed into the leather couch, sticky and uncomfortable. 

i heard the sound of his zipper, the clink of his belt buckle. 

Coward. 

I shivered when he pushed my skirt up.

“Don’t enjoy this too much, yeah?” I snapped, “ You hate me remember?” 

“Easy enough to forget its you when I don’t have to look at you.” he retorted. 

He slipped one arm under my waist, lifting me up just enough for him to yank my panties down. 

“Just remember , you don’t get to blame the alcohol for this .” I sneered. “ You’re sober and clear headed and you’re hard for me. “ 

Somehow that seemed to bother him.

He stopped . 

I could feel the hesitation in his limbs. 

It made me laugh. 

“You know Jungkook, i took you for lot of things but a coward wasn’t one of them.”

“What the fuck does that mean huh? I should put you in your fucking place for how insolent you are with me... ” he pressed down on me and i gasped when I felt his chest pressing into my back, his face inches from my own. I flinched when he sank his teeth into the mating mark on my neck. 

“it means that if you’re going to do this, if you’re going to talk big about putting me in my place like the big bad alpha that you are, at least own up to the fact that you’re attracted to me. ” 

“ You forget your fucking place, omega.”  he hissed, voice sharp and furious against my ear. “ Another word out of that mouth and i won’t be responsible for what i do.” I gritted my teeth when he curled his fingers around the inside of my thigh, parting my legs and settling in between. 

He pushed into me in one strong thrust and my eyes flew open in shock. 

“Fuck.... why are you so fucking tight...” He groaned and my shoulders began to throb as he fucked into me, setting a punishing speed that left both of us panting . We were too fucking would up for it to last any longer than a few minutes and yet, i could feel pleasure swell inside me, wetness seeping out of me and onto the leather couch beneath us. 

I wondered just how fucked up this whole thing was. Just how much damage were we doing to each other?? But it was hard to care too much about it, because even if though it was a terrible way to talk things out at least he had talked. It was nothing new....nothing earth shatteringly enlightening but he had said it all out loud and that made a difference. 

“You think you can come into my life and dictate how i fucking live.” He grunted against my ear, fingers tightening on my hair. “ it pisses me off.” 

“Everyone dies, Jungkook. People die and they leave loved ones behind but Life goes on. It has to go on. You can’t just pause life to grieve. Mina needs you.” I felt my eyes begin to sting with tears, the adrenaline from the argument fading and my body threatening to go limp as he drove into me at the same punishing pace. 

He didn’t respond, fingers closing around my throat and squeezing lightly instead.

“Save your platitudes before i decide that the warmth of your body isn’t worth the grate of your voice on my ear.” He snapped and I whimpered when he stilled, spilling into me. 

He stayed pressed up against me. breathing harshly against my ear and i waited till both our breaths evened out. 

“It’s not selfish to move on Jungkook. You aren’t insulting your wife’s memory by wanting to move on.  “ I said softly. ” Someday your heart and mind will agree with me. Whether you like it or not. That’s just how pain works, Jungkook. One day it’ll pack itself up and walk out of your heart in the middle of the night. You just have to hold on till then.” 

He didn’t reply, merely drawing himself up and off me. 

Once i heard the door to his bedroom slam shut i dragged myself up , thighs shaking and sticky. I grimaced at the mess on the couch. I stared at the packet of baby wipes on the table nearby and shuddered. That just felt wrong. 

I’d just have to go grab a washcloth from the bathroom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On that weekend, we had another dinner to attend, this time with a few investors from out of the country or so Namjoon told me. 

Although we didn’t talk about what happened and he didn’t try to touch me again, things were subtly different. 

Something had changed in the way Jungkook behaved with me. There was a little less of the usual zombie like indifference and he actually seemed to be avoiding alcohol actively. It was a welcome change. But to make up for it, Mina went into a growth spurt. Which meant ten minute naps every hours or so with wailing sobs in between. 

i was exhausted. 

So much so that Jungkook told me that he didn’t want to pick Mina up from Seokjin’s place till the next day. 

It was a little past one in the morning when I finally trudged into the apartment. Jungkook wasn’t black out drunk but he was definitely a little loose limbed, eyes just a shade more glassy than usual.

“Tonight went well. I’m thinking the guy from Macau is definitely going to consider investing.” He muttered, gripping the door frame and taking off his shoes.

I toed my own heels off, feeling upset and bereft.

“Why would you tell Jin oppa that we’ll get Mina in the morning? She’s not used to being away the whole night.” I complained, feeling jittery and nervous because the house felt so empty and strange .

I didn’t like the idea of being alone with Jungkook without the buffer of his daughter between us. The house felt foreign, the walls seemingly closer together , the space to cramped.

Jungkook dropped his keys in the bowl and tugged on his tie, watching me carefully.

“It’s too late and Jin hyung said she was already asleep. He’ll drop her off in the morning. Just relax. Would you like a drink?”

I stared at him. 

What now? 

He looked nervous and a tad worried.

 Swallowing , I shook my head, turning on my heel.  

“I’m going to bed.” I was almost at the door to the nursery when he grabbed my arm, seemingly moving faster than I could breathe.

“Wait, Heejin… “ He stopped, worrying his lip between his teeth before sighing, “I… I need to say something..” He finished and I exhaled sharply.

I tugged on my arm but he wouldn’t let go.

“Jungkook , let me go.” I said sharply. “ I’m not in the mood tonight . You aren’t drunk now and I’m running out of reasons to excuse your actions.”

His hold on my arm relaxed but he didn’t let go.

“Namjoon hyung told me about that new therapist.... Kim Taehyung?? . I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said roughly.  

I sighed, defeated. It was expected and yet it stung. I wondered if perhaps I was just beating a dead horse at this point. But Mina deserved to have a father who loved her with all his heart and Jungkook’s heart was so filled with grief it had no place for his daughter. If there was any chance I could help change that, I would take it.

I tugged my arm away again and this time he let go.

I tried to smile encouragingly. it was hard because i was all out of comfort, my own exhaustion too overwhelming at the moment.

So I took a deep breath and reached out to lightly touch his arm. 

“Listen, no one’s asking you to make a decision tonight, Jungkook.” I tried to smile a bit more widely but it probably came out as a grimace, “ Just sleep on it and think about why you think it isn’t a good idea. Taehyung’s an alpha and he may understand you better. Think about it and you can let Namjoon know later.”

He didn’t reply, merely staring at me till I began to feel a little hot around the collar.

“Well, Good night then.” I made to turn away but he grabbed me again, this time by my wrist.

“Wait.”

Patience wearing just a little thin, I stared at him, waiting as he requested.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night. At the party last week. About you not being her mother.   I shouldn’t have said that.”

It was the first time he had apologized for anything.

It took me a second to even remember what he was talking about. 

“Alright. I’m not mad. And I understand why you said it. Its fine. And you’re right. I’m not her mother and I should be more careful. ”

He nodded and then stepped back.

“ I’m sorry. For a lot of things. ”  He bowed awkwardly and I could only stare at him, shaking my head. The apologies were somehow both welcome and abhorrent to me. 

They were the kind of apology you would offer a stranger. And that made them insincere because I wasn’t a stranger. I’d been through too much these past few months, to be treated that way. 

For now I could only accept them at face value. 

“ Its alright. Just go to bed Jungkook. And listen to Namjoon oppa . I know you don’t trust me but you should trust him. He only wants what’s best for you. ”

I sounded twenty years older than I actually was and grimaced.

"There’s one more thing. Can I... I need... “ He stopped and stared at the floor. 

I felt a huge sense of foreboding rise up at that. 

“Are you going to pull the i paid for your body card? “ I said bitterly. “ You made it very clear that i can’t say no. I don’t see why you’re bothering to-”

“You can say no.” He said softly. “ You can say no.” 

And then he looked up at with limpid doe eyes, shining with all the stars in the galaxy and I wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all. 

“ And if I say no, where will you go? To a brothel? you’ll come back smelling like another beta or omega and you can’t come near your daughter till it fades. Which is what? A week? “ 

Jungkook didn’t say anything and I felt helpless. 

“Is that why you sent her away tonight?” I demanded and he looked genuinely surprised. 

“What? No. Of course not . i just...You looked exhausted. I thought you’d like a night off. And just... I don’t want to have sex. Can you just sleep with me. I just... I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

“What’s so special about tonight?” i rolled my eyes already moving to his bedroom instead of the nursery. 

He stared at me for a few seconds, eyes empty in the dark of the hallway. 

I waited a whole minute before sighing. This was excruciating and my heels hurt from wearing heels all evening. i wanted to curl into the air mattress on the floor of the nursery , possibly lie sleepless till dawn and then drive down to pick Mina up from Jin’s place. 

“Jungkook , let’s just go to bed and forget-” 

“Its her birthday.” 

I barely heard him, his lips barely moved and his voice was so low. 

I stared at him. Not sure if I’d misheard. 

“What?”

“Its her birthday. “ He repeated. 

“You can say her name.” i said calmly. “ You’re not betraying her by saying her name out loud in front of me.” 

He went a little stiff at that and i wanted to kick myself for the remark. What a hypocrite I was. I’d reprimanded Namjoon for trying to dictate Jungkook’s grief and here I was , doing the exact same thing. 

“I’m sorry. God, Jungkook... I’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.  i didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me.. I... of course you don’t have to be alone. Should i call Namjoon oppa? Or Jimin?” I asked gently. 

“It’s Sooah’s birthday.” He was still staring at the floor, apparently he hadn’t heard a word I’d said. 

I had a sudden flash of memory, remembering that Jungkook used to sing. He had sung at his wedding seven years ago. Serenaded his wife as she walked down the aisle. I had been young then but i remembered thinking how evident his love was in every syllable sung .

Something i could hear even now, in the way he said her name. 

“Okay. What would you like to do? I... I can make seaweed soup.” I said softly. “ We can go see her if you like?” 

He stared at me. 

“I want to go alone.” He said finally. 

I hesitated. 

“I’ll drive you. i’ll stay in the car. You can’t drive.” I reminded him. 

Jungkook’s driver’s license had been suspended after one too many traffic violations. I drove him around often . 

He didn’t reply, staring out of the huge bay windows and i sighed. 

“Alright... Why don’t you go change  into something more comfortable yeah? i’ll get the soup going and we, “ i bit my lips, “ , I’m sorry, And you can go see her.  “ I smiled, before moving to the kitchen and grabbing the dried seaweed. I soaked it in cold water, before getting the beef, garlic, soy sauce, salt and pepper and the sesame oil from the cupboards. 

Ten minutes later, the soup was boiling away and I peered out at the door leading to his bedroom. I was still wearing the cocktail gown and my head was beginning to throb. I oved to the nursery and stripped quickly, slipping on my white t shirt and a pair of pink corduroy shorts. 

I would be in the car anyway.  By the time i finished taking off all my make up, the soup was done and Jungkook was slumped over the counter. He looked drained, more so than usual . In fact he looked notably worse than how he was ten minutes ago. 

Torn between the urge to draw him into my arms and the helpless knowledge that he would absolutely hate me touching him , i merely hovered near the stove, pouring the stove into a small airtight container. 

On a whim I moved to the cupboard  in the corner that housed all the crockery and threw it open. 

“What was her favorite bowl?” I said casually, staring at him. 

He blinked, staring at me like i was speaking a foreign tongue. 

“Her favorite bowl , Jungkook The one she always drank or ate from?” 

He swallowed but leaned his palms down on the granite countertop, levering himself off the tall stool of the kitchen island and making his way over to me. I stepped back, giving him space to peer into the depths of the black marble shelves. 

He finally stuck a hand in and drew out a pale yellow and mauve bowl , a little worn but intact. 

He held it carefully, running his fingers gently over the bowl, savoring the surface his wife had once caressed with her own fingers. I watched as his lips curved, a pale pale imitation of a smile but a smile nonetheless and I felt my breath catch in my throat. 

This was probably the first time he’d smiled in the three months i’d known him. 

My heart began to pound, a steady staccato that began rising in volume and i willed myself to stay calm. 

“I..uh.. I can wash it for you.” I said softly .

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come and he stared at my outstretched hand like it was a snake . 

Face almost eerily blank he cleared his throat. 

“I’ll do it.” 

i watched as he moved to wash the bowl under the spray from the faucet and finished clearing up the kitchen. i grabbed a small bag to keep the sea wood soup in and held the bag open when Jungkook finished washing the bowls. He grabbed a fresh kitchen towel and carefully wiped down the moisture before wrapping the bowl in the towel and keeping it inside the bag, carefully. 

I smiled and zipped the bag shut. 

“Lets go shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I sat waiting in the car, staring out into the darkness of the parking lot, while the rain poured torrents outside the glass windows of the car. I felt unaccountably alone, like I was the only human being left on the planet. 

It had been a little past an hour since Jungkook had disappeared into the building that held his wife’s ashes. I wasn’t sure if i should give him a call. Had he fallen asleep in there. 

I told myself I would wait another hour and if he didn’t come out, I would go check on him. 

I dozed lightly against the window, exhaustion beginning to creep in. I wanted to sob at how tired i was. I could have gotten a full nights sleep, something i hadn’t had since the day I took Mina into my arms. 

But then, i remembered the tiny smile that had sprung up on his face and i grinned despite myself. That was progress wasn’t it? It definitely was. I was sure that if only Jungkook could be convinced to go meet Taehyung , the alpha therapist, things could get so much better for him. I wanted to have him at least halfway to being ..... capable of handling his own daughter, before i left him. if not the worry alone would eat me alive. 

I was just getting ready to perhaps climb over the console and nap in the backseat when my phone rang. 

I glanced at the dashboard, frowning. it was two thirty in the morning. 

Who?

I grabbed my phone from the bag and my heart leapt to my throat. 

“Jin? What’s wrong? What happened to her?” I could feel my heart threatening to give out, any number of terrible possibilities running through my head in a vicious loop.

“nothing happened, Heejin , take a deep breath... She’s just running a fever. it was quite low earlier but its hitting 101  now and I’m getting a little worried. I’ve given her cold baths and kept a wet towel on her but it doesn’t seem to be coming down.” 

“We’ll be there in ten minutes! “ i said quickly.

“I’m sorry, Heejinah, i don’t have any experience with babies and-”

“it’s alright...thank you for calling me oppa!” i hung up , already fumbling with the door and stepping out into the rain. i was soaked through in three second flat. What a day to wear a white t shirt. 

I ran quickly, stumbling a little on the gravel pathway and hoping to God i was going the right way. I ran into the foyer, the poor security guard falling asleep over his desk glancing up at me in sympathy. 

“there was a man here earlier?”

“Second floor third room.” He said casually.

I nodded, already rushing for the steps. I climbed the four flights of stair in two minutes, my heart threatening to give out. I found Jungkook in the room , kneeling on the floor and he looked at me in shock that swiftly turned to anger.

“Jungkook-” i gasped because the run up had robbed me of my breath. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He moved so quickly I could barely blink before he was right up in front of me. 

“Jungkook, I... We need...” I tried to draw a breath in but before I could form the words he grabbed my arm, so hard that I whimpered in pain. 

“I told you i wanted to be alone, what the fuck is your fucking problem?!” He snarled.

“Jungkook-” Before i could finish, he yanked me just a bit closer to him before shoving me out of the room with his wife’s portraits and the small ornate vase that held her ashes. 

it wasn’t that hard. 

He didn’t push me in a very brutal way. 

In fact it was probably with lesser force than what anyone slamming a door would use. 

But,

Jungkook was six feet two. He weighed a 170 pounds. 

I was a hundred pounds wet and barely came up to his shoulders. 

And it was just my luck that the wall opposite to the door had a large concrete and granite horse figurine placed right in front of it.  

I crashed into the torso of the equine, my bones rattling inside me and I whimpered when my wrist made contact with the hard surface, bending a bit out of place. 

I slid to the floor in a wet lump, trying to catch my breath and process what had just happened.

Jungkook stood frozen by the door horrified as he stared at his hands, as thought he couldn’t quite fathom what he had just done. 

A sharp burning pain began in my sides and I gasped out.

“Oh, fuck.” I swore. 

Jungkook moved to help me up but i was already crawling away from him, scrambling to my feet, ignoring the ache in my side.

“I’m sorry.” I said softly, holding both my hands up. “ It’s Mina...she’s running a fever. We need to go get her.” 

“Heejin-ah, I’m...”

One more apology and i would officially lose it, i thought slightly hysterically. 

“its my fault.” I said sharply, “  I should have probably tried calling you from the car instead of barging in like this but Jin called and i got worried...I wasn’t thinking straight so I’m sorry about that... I think we should go get her as soon as we can.” 

“Did i hurt you?” He demanded , reaching out for me again and I nearly fell again trying to move away from his touch. 

“No.. No I’m fine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure, we don’t have to go the doctor.?  “ He asked nervously, watching me carefully wipe down her body with the slightly damp wet cloth. I nodded, carefully squeezing the water out before dipping the towel in water again. 

“She’ll be fine. Her fever’s come down and with babies this young, its safer to care for them at home than to take them to a hospital.” I said casually, 

 “I wasn’t talking about her.” He said stiltedly. 

I blinked, staring up at him in surprise. 

“What?”

“I think we should go to the doctor. You fell hard. ”

“Jungkook what are you even on about?” I said crossly, steadfastly ignoring the pain in my sides. It was sharp and unbearable with every breath I took in but I was too terrified to go to the hospital and have them tell me I’d cracked my rib or something. 

Partly because that would be so inconvenient. 

Partly because Jungkook would probably go back to being a guilt ridden shadow of himself if that happened. 

“I’m going to call Yoongi hyung.” 

Before I could protests some more he was already on his feet, moving to the living room.

Yoongi arrived thirty minutes later , annoyed and sleepy, dressed in a soft white t shirt and stone wash jeans. 

“It’s four thirty in the morning , she better be dying Jungkook..” He rasped out near the front door and i flinched at the murderous tone to his voice. 

Suddenly , i hoped desperately that my ribs had cracked. 

Yoongi stepped in , staring at me . He took in the mess of quilts i sat on and sighed. 

“Come here and take your shirt off.” He said gruffly. 

I blinked, feeling blood rush to my face. Was he always this handsome? Hating the very unwelcome flutter of nerves, I moved to stand in front of him, grabbing the hem of my t shirt .

But the movement jolted my rib and pain sharp and lancing shot through my side. I yelped and dropped my hand again breathing harshly which only seemed to make things worse. 

I swallowed and Yoongi blinked, reaching out to gently grip my elbows. 

“Hey...relax ... “ He said gently. 

I felt the press of a warm chest at my back.

“Let me help hyung.” Jungkook’s voice rumbled through my body, his chin brushing the top of my head and he bent over me from the back, fingers gripping the hem of my shirt and carefully lifting it up to just above the curve of my breasts. 

Yoongi was staring at Jungkook over my shoulders expression unreadable. 

“So you do know how to act after all.” He commented drily and I heard Jungkook inhale sharply behind me. 

“Hyung...” He said sharply, and Yoongi merely rolled his eyes. 

“How did this happen?” He ran slender fingers all over my skin, feeling each dent and dip carefully. 

“I ..uh.. I sort of fell into a statue? It was made of concrete and quite heavy.” 

His face shifted into a frown. 

“Jungkook , tell me you didn’t push her.” He said sharply and I jumped a bit.

“No...he didn’t.” i said sharply and Yoongi ignored me , staring right at the alpha behind me. 

“I didn’t mean to.” He said finally.

“You broke her rib, kid.” 

I groaned in defeat. Behind me Jungkook stiffened.

“It was an accident.” I said sharply and Yoongi gave me an unimpressed look.

“If i had a won for every wife that told me that.” 

“It was my fault and-” I shut my mouth. I did sound like the poster child for abused wife in denial. 

“Relax... I’m not going to send your handsome husband to prison.” He chuckled. “ This time.” He added, giving Jungkook another glare. 

“It won’t happen again. ever. “ Jungkook’s voice shook a little. 

I sighed, already imagining the self flagellation that was probably going on inside the alpha’s head.

Yoongi’s voice drew me out of my head. 

 “Its not a break. It looks like a crack which is easier to heal. But i still want you to come in tomorrow. We’ll get it x rayed. Its going to take a couple of months to heal.” 

I gaped.

“Months?” 

“As long as you take it easy you’ll be fine. Now where’s the little one?” 

Yoongi dropped off a small bottle of pediatric paracetamol and told me to keep an eye on her temperature before bidding us goodbye. 

Once the door closed behind him, Jungkook turned to me , eyes wide and lips parted. 

“If you apologize , I’m going to throw this  at your face.” i said calmly, fingers closing over the neck of the ceramic vase on the table. 

Jungkook blinked. 

“I’m sorry. “ He said nonetheless and I sighed, pulling my hands away. 

How fitting. Neither of us could act out of character. 

Jungkook couldn’t stop blaming himself for everything under the sun. 

I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt him in any way. 

“Just go to bed , Jungkook. I’ll be fine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : As always the pain is here and probably going to get worse. But Jungkook seems to be turning mildly human so let’s see if he can keep that up. Also handsome pediatric doctor Yoongi as second lead because i like to torture myself. 

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[jaeminlore]

Landslide | Mark Lee

summary: time makes you bolder. even children get older, and i’m getting older too.

words: 7.1k+

category: teacher!mark, single parent!reader, fem!presenting!reader, graham is the sweetest kid, mark is that teacher that lets kids pick earthworms during recess, friends to lovers, mark’s apartment is flooded so now he has to live in domestic bliss with his secret crush oh nooooo

warnings: talk of absent fathers

author note: it’s my birthday tomorrow so i wanted to give u all a present for supporting me for so long!! here’s to you <3 (cross-posted on /honklore)

Mark helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Mark advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Mark grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Mark.

Mark ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Lee forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Mark giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Mark to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Mark actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Mark did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Mark puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Mark checks his text messages.

There’s one from Taeyong: “I’ve already got Haechan on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Mark forgot that Haechan lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Mark’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Mark didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Mark has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Mark right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Mark doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Mark gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Mark is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Mark’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Mark gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Mark pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Mark! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Mark is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Lee! It’s rude to call him Mark!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Mark reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Mark.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Mark and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Mark studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Mark acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Mark clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll text you.”

Mark spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

-

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Mark is his teacher.

Mark’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Mark is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Mark glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Mark.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Mark to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Lee?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Mark gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Mark.

“How have you been?”

Mark sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Mark pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Mark. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Mark bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

-

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Lee is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Lee? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Mark decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Lee’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are heard before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, and you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Mark’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Mark is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Mark’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Mark teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Mark mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Mark gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Mark himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Mark has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Lee cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Mark around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Mark giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Mark blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Mark knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

-

Mark thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Mark gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Mark quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Mark tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Lee! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Mark’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Mark gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Mark feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be. Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Mark reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Mark has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Lee?”

Mark grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Mark feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Mark grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Mark, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Mark leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Mark thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Mark takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Mark watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Mark, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Mark reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Mark wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

-

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Lee let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Mark trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Mark scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Mark places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Mark’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Mark says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Mark Lee would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Mark grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

-

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Mark up by jumping on his chest.

Mark sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Mark, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Mark rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Mark and Graham enter.

Mark likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Mark, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Mark rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Mark insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

-

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Mark giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Mark reminds you.

“But Mikey is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Mark’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Mark scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Mark is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Mark blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Mark is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Mark,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Mark opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

-

Haechan comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Mark, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still high despite its blunt sarcasm. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Haechan, Mark’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Lee’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Haechan looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Haechan to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Taeyong’s, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Mikey, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re rambling and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Johnny about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Mark tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Mark didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Haechan scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Mark’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Haechan grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Mark, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Haechan in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Haechan’s voice cracks

You shoot Haechan a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Johnny’s.” Mark says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Haechan says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Mark laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Mark is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in the shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

-

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Mark is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Haechan’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Mark didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Mark was alone in a dorm with Taeyong, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Mark even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Lee?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Mark jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Mark realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Mark holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Mark says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Mark’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

-

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Mark and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Mark’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Mark scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Mark smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, copper brown under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Mark’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

-

“Mark Lee!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Mark has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Mark’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Mark.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Mark.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Haechan told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Mark pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Mark stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

-

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Mark. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Mark again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Mark in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say.

Mark confesses, “I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Mark is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Mark bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Mark’s voice is a low rumble. Copper eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Mark.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in onyx black disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

[gucciwins]

ahh are you angel was so good!!! is it possible for you to do a follow up where he gets released from the hospital and they go back to her house and she fusses over him a lot and takes care of him and he's like really stubborn and insists on doing things himself and walking about when he really shouldn't? I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW!!! so so so good!

Hello lovely, thank you for such a kind message. I was writing and I wanted it to be sweet but there's actually a pinch of angst involved. Anyways, if you take the time to read this I hope you enjoy firefighter harry being stubborn at home. This is a follow up to Are You Angel?

Word count: 3331

Trouble Follows

Are You Angel?

_____

Harry was living in bliss.

Although he was injured and healing nicely, the doctors have told him. He enjoyed it because he was living with his girlfriend, who cared for him and made sure he didn’t overdo it.

It’s been two weeks, and he swears he couldn’t love Y/N anymore, but it grows every day. He adored her and was so thankful for how she was caring for him. She’d make him breakfast, and they’d either share it in bed or on the couch. She made his coffee just how he liked it and left him different baked goods every few days. He’s happily putting on weight from all the treats she makes.

Then after seven-thirty, she would head to work and, like clockwork at twelve, would be making her way into the house. She’d remove her sneakers and set up the lunch she stopped by to pick up, and then she’d wake him up with soft kisses all over his face, helping him sit up because of his bruised ribs. Y/N would let him sit at the table the only time. They’d chat about how her day was going too far; then, he’d discuss the book he decided to read. He is currently reading Normal People because Y/N wanted to watch the show, but Harry said she had to wait for him to read the book so they’d be able to discuss both. Y/N thought it was the sweetest thing and smothered him in kisses. Harry likes it when she does that.

After lunch, she’d tuck him to the couch and let him rest while she made her way back to work. Then Harry spent those last few hours at home sleeping, watching Survivor, another thing Y/N got him hooked on. Harry even upgraded her Hulu because he could not deal with the commercials. He didn’t have the patience for that. Y/N told him she wanted to apply to be on any of those shows but didn't know if she’d do well; Harry doubted that. He knew she could do anything she put her mind to. Instead, she told him they should look into applying to do Amazing Race together, which he has not ventured into yet but surely will soon.

Y/N would finally come home around five, and Harry would be in the bedroom either getting ready to shower or lying in bed. He would honestly wait for her because he liked it when she helped him undress, then she’d join him in the shower where she’d let him kiss her all over. He’s honestly dying for a taste of her. The problem is the doctor does not clear him, so it’s a no to sex from her.

Honestly, the shower was part of his favorite day, he’d get to stand, and she’d just let Harry hold her. He’d whisper how he missed her. Then he’d try to tempt her by whisper sweet nothings in her ear about how he missed the taste of her on his tongue, how she could just as easily ride his face, and the one he knows that almost always gets her is how he missed being close to her, as she squeezed him tight when he slipped inside of her. She always took a step back, avoiding eye contact because she knew if she looked at the look in his eyes, she’d give in.

Y/N would look at his chest, her eyes scanning over the scars on his skin until she landed on the purple bruise of his ribs. “Not until that is healed.” She’d half-smile at him.

Today was different. He went to the doctor’s with Mitch, Y/N not being able to get out of shift as they were full of patients for the day but promised to come straight home so they could cook dinner together. He squeezed her tighter before she left this morning, hoping for good news.

Harry walked into the hospital with a smile, greeting the staff. He didn’t have to wait long until his name was called, Mitch staying in his chair, looking at a magazine of National Geographic. Harry fixed his hoodie, walking towards the nurse who guided him to room 205. Carla, the nurse, checks his blood pressure, his height, and weight letting him know he gained five pounds that the doctor would be impressed. Harry smirked, knowing he’d tease Y/N for helping him put on weight. Carla smiled and told him the doctor would be in shortly and informed him to change into the gown provided.

Dr. Vazquez walks in fifteen minutes with a knock on the door.

“Mr. Styles, good to see you.”

“You as well.” He smiles.

“Right, well looking over your charts, everything looks good but still got to look you over.”

“Go right ahead, doc.” Harry sighs with a slight grin.

Dr. Vazquez washes his hands then gloves up. He walks over to Harry, standing right in front of him. First, he looks at Harry’s arms seeing that the burns healed, with minimal scarring. Then he moves over to the gown, seeing there are no longer bruises on his leg. Harry had to do physical therapy for a week as a precaution, but he aced all the drills and then was cleared. He lifted the gown to expose his stomach.

“Does it still hurt, your ribs?” Dr. Vazquez asked as he felt around the area of the bruising.

“No.” Harry lied.

“Hmm…” Dr. Vazquez touched Harry gently on the bruise, and Harry hissed. “Think it still does. It looks like you will need that extra week to recover at least until the bruising goes away.”

“Another week,” Harry repeats.

“Yes, I want you to heal properly.”

“But my job,” Harry exclaims, not believing he has to be out for another week.

Dr. Vazquez sighs, “You’re going back to the job Harry. I understand how much it means to you. If I let you go back early, you could break a rib if you aren’t careful. Now, I want you to go home and keep doing what you’re doing. You’re in great health overall.”

“Except the bruise,” Harry mutters.

“I’ll let you get dressed. See you next week, Styles.” As Dr. Vazquez is turning the knob, he turns around. “Thank Y/N for the oatmeal cookies. They were delicious.”

Harry nods and hops down from the bench wanting to get dressed and go home.

_

Mitch drives Harry home; it’s silent all the way there until he parks in front of Y/N’s house, which is technically his. He’s not sure, but it feels like home, at least with her, it does.

“You alright, H?” Mitch asks, shifting to look at Harry.

Harry sighs, leaning his head back against the seat. “No, got another week and another checkup.”

“That’s alright; you need to heal properly,” Mitch responds.

Harry shrugs, “I guess.”

“We still on for dinner at seven?”

“Yeah.”

Harry gets out and makes his way to the front door. He sits on the couch, and the more he sits there, the angrier he becomes. He’s not mad at anyone, just the situation. Harry isn’t sure how long he sits there, letting his anger simmer, but it’s been a while because he hears the front door unlock and Y/N enter.

“Hi darling,” She greets from the door, where she slips her shoes off and sets her purse down.

Harry doesn’t answer, continues to sit there, too lost in thought.

Y/N smiles seeing him sitting there.

She hurries over him, desperate to hug him. She sits next to him on the couch, carefully slipping her arms around his waist as not to hurt him.

“Missed you.”

Harry sighs, kissing her head softly. “Me too.”

“Going to make you a tea, Ms. Waters was telling me it strengthens your bones and to make it even better, it smells like lavender although she said it might need some sugar if you don’t want it to be bitter.”

Y/N isn’t worried. Some days she comes home and does all the talking because he had a few rough days, and sometimes she’d be quiet, and Harry would cuddle her, commenting about everyone’s gameplay in Survivor.

This is the most stable relationship she’s been in. Yes, it is insane for Harry to move for the time being, but she’s not opposed to him moving in so soon. She loves him, and that means she sees a future with him. It may or may not end in heartbreak, but she wants as much time with Harry that she can get.

Harry was just as thrilled. Most of his clothes could already be found in the drawers she opened up for him. She has uniform shirts hanging in her closet. She buys his favorite fabric softener. They’ve been domestic from the start.

This is love, and she wants it for as long as Harry will give it to her.

Y/N came out with the mug, placing it on the coaster for Harry.

Harry stared at Y/N, thinking about every single thing she does for him. He was thankful he really was because he loved her, and this was showing him just how much she loved him, but he could do things independently.

Harry goes to sit up, and Y/N is there instantly to help him. Harry isn’t sure why, but it bothers him.

This seems to be the last straw after the day he had, and Harry shrugs her off.

She steps back, not a word is said.

“Y/N,”

A frown on her face, he called her by her name, not one of the sweet nicknames he has for her.

“You’re suffocating me. I can do this on my own. I’ve been hurt before, and I didn’t need you.” Harry says harshly.

Y/N flinches, taking a step back.

Harry instantly feels the guilt seeping in.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re feeling this way,” She says as she takes small steps back to increase their distance. “I’m going to go for a walk.” Shoes in hand, she opens the door and walks out before Harry can say anything.

Harry sighs because he didn’t mean to make her upset. He really is a dick.

Now she’s outside and upset. Harry hates that he drove her out of her own home because of his stubbornness.

He’s not sure how to apologize, but in the meantime, Harry can think about it before she comes back.

_____

It’s been over an hour, and Harry knows she should be home soon. He tried calling and texting her, but she’s ignoring his cars, rightfully so. He feels time goes by slowly now that she isn’t there to keep him company.

Harry wants to apologize and hold her close. He misses her and her sweet smile that’s reserved just for him. He feels awful because he’s not even sure if she took a jacket, and it’s a cold night. He did this and just wants her home, even if it means her being upset with him.

There’s a knock on the door, and he rushes over to open it but frowns when he sees Mitch and Sarah.

“Well, what a welcome,” Sarah says sarcastically at his expression.

“Sorry, thought you were Y/N,” Harry sighs, moving back, allowing them to enter.

Mitch and Sarah share a look, “Shouldn’t she be here?”

“She should, but I’m a dick, and she went on a walk to get away from me.”

“Harry,”

“I know, I felt awful right away, Fuck, I’ve never yelled at her-- we don’t fight. It’s not us, and now she’s not answering my calls.”

Sarah looks around the room before her eyes land on the bag next to the mushroom key holder. “The phone that is sitting next to her bag.”

“Fuck,” Harry frowns. He picks it up, seeing all his missed calls. He scrolls then stops when he sees Frankie’s name.

With Frankie, will be home soon.

It was sent fifteen minutes ago.

“She’s with Frankie.”

Harry leans against the wall, sighing in relief. “Should we be here when she gets back?” Mitch asks.

“No, we need to talk. Raincheck?”

Sarah nods, “Of course. Keep us updated.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Mitch walks out first, then Sarah before they share a look. Sarah sighs, turning to look at Harry. “Listen, you don’t have to tell me what happened, but Y/N loves you. I’ve known her as long as you have. From the way Y/N has spoken about you to Frankie and me, it’s like you hung the moon and stars for her. It might be easy to treat her as a target but know this; she will never stand to be mistreated because she knows her worth. So, swallow your pride and fix this with your heart and not your ego.”

Sarah walks away before he can respond. Harry is about to shut the door when a car pulls up; he recognizes it as Frankie’s, a red pick-up truck.

He smiles; she’s back.

Y/N gets out of the car, greeting Mitch and Sarah with a hug. She frowns when Harry assumes they tell her they can’t stay for dinner. She pulls a bag out from the passenger seat and hands it over to them. Harry feels himself soften because even though she was upset, she still passed to get dinner.

Heart of gold she has.

She’s absolutely perfect, and he might have messed it all up.

Y/N hugs Frankie before moving towards Harry, a bag of food in her hand. She doesn’t meet his eyes but walks past him into the house.

Harry closes the door behind him and watches her set the bag of food that he can now see is Thai food from his favorite place three blocks away. She stands there, nervously playing with a robin ring on her index finger, slipping it on and off.

“Uh…you’re right, I’ve been suffocating,” she says softly.

Harry sighs, “No.” But it’s like she doesn’t hear him because she keeps going.

“I can stay with Frankie for a while, this is your home as well, and I won’t kick you out. Or, if you want your own space, Mitch said he could drive you over to your apartment. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Harry feels the tears coming, god he doesn’t deserve her or her sympathy let alone her love.

“You don’t need to go anywhere. I want you right here. Need you right here.” Harry takes a small step toward her hoping she won’t back away.

Y/N doesn’t, but she also doesn’t look at him either. It breaks his heart.

“Will you please look at me, angel?” He pleads.

She lifts her head, eyes red and swollen. He did that. He made her cry.

Maybe he does deserve to feel this hurt.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean a word I said. I was upset and angry, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have. It’s not an excuse for what I did, and you don’t have to forgive me, but I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you upset?”

“Ribs aren’t fully healed, and I was ready to go back to work.”

Y/N nods because she knows what he means. He was ready to go back to work because he has been spending so much time with her.

“Right, because you need to be away from me. I got it.”

“God, no. Baby, no.” Harry cups her face. “Not at all.”

“Then what, Harry!” She tries to shout, but it comes out soft as tears begin to fall down her face. “I love you, but you’re not making any sense.”

Harry sighs, “I’m afraid that if I don’t go back soon, then everyone will see me as weak, that you’ll see me as weak.”

“Harry,” she whispers.

“I know, it’s ridiculous. I love how you care for me but me not being able to do the same kills me.”

“But you do,” she smiles; it’s the first one since she came back. “You watch my favorite shows and read books I’ve read because you want to discuss them with me. You try all my desserts without a complaint. You let me take care of you. You love me because you smile at me every morning and without fail greet me with a kiss.”

Harry lets his tears fall, wanting to soak in her words. “You love me in the little moments as well as the big. I’m sorry, I left. I wanted to give you space, clear your head as I did the same without upsetting each other more.”

“I’m sorry, I pushed you out of your house.” Harry presses a kiss on her cheek. “Will you forgive me?”

“Course, H.” Y/N wraps her arms around his waist. “Don’t like fighting.” She tells him as she nuzzles her face in his chest.

“Me either.” Harry sighs in content, happy to have her back in his arms where she belongs. ��Were you serious about me moving in? I mean, we’ve only been together five months now.”

“Said it in the heat of the moment.” Harry nods, not letting her see his frown. “But it doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it. Five months may seem like little time, but with everything we’ve been through, it feels much longer.”

Harry smiles, “Yeah, I hate when people say this, but I do mean it. It feels like you’ve been a part of my life from the start.”

Y/N nods, knowing what he means, “Let’s make this our home. I want you to leave your shoes by the door and help me do laundry on Sundays. I want it all with you.”

“Getting to wake up to you every day and come home to you every night, there’s nothing I want more,” Harry confesses.

“I love you, Harry.”

“And I love you, my angel.”

Harry pulls her in for a final hug, not wanting to stop touching her, just needs her in his arms for the rest of the night.

“Dinner time?” He asks.

“Yes, please.” Y/N goes to pull away, but Harry holds her tight.

She looks up at him, eyes red but no longer sad. “Kiss, please?”

Y/N smiles at him fondly, giving a slight nod. Harry leans in, brushing their lips together softly, nervous she might pull away, but she doesn’t; instead, she presses herself closer to him. It’s a kiss that centers him, that reminds him he didn’t mess it all up, that at the end of the day, she came back to him. The kiss is soft, and Harry feels all the love she’s pouring in, and Harry hopes she can feel it from him as well.

Harry pulls back, pressing a final kiss to her lips.

“Now, dinner or shower first.”

“Shower want to hold you, angel,” Harry confesses.

“Alright, but no funny business.” She teases.

Harry gasps, “I would never.”

She giggles, making her way to the bedroom, with Harry following behind.

Harry leans against the doorway, watching Y/N set her clothes for the night on the bed, then going to his drawers to do the same. He wants this forever; he wants her to fluff his pillows, to warm his blanket, to run her fingers through his hair, to massage his back, relieving all the tension he has built up. He’s decided he’d let her shower him in love and bask in it because it doesn’t mean she sees him as weak; it’s her way of showing she wants to take care of him and who is he to deny her of that.

Harry feels his heart grow when she heads to the bathroom but stops turning to him with an outstretched hand; he steps forward, intertwining their fingers.

Yeah, he’s going to love her for a long time.

_____

Here's more firefighter harry because this wrote itself and in a matter of two days. will eventually write more for firefighter harry but will be focusing on other work :)

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Grunge-Metal Geralt 3

its finally time 😂 after months of staring at an empty google doc i finally had a useful idea - also y’all, go listen to ‘Brighter Side of Grey’ by Five Finger Death Punch bc that’s the song i based this on and its fire and i love it also all of ffdp is one whole witchery mood

Warnging: vague discussion of a car crash where Geralt was severely injured, big emotionaly vulnerability, swearing?, listen to the song then you’ll get the vibes i promise

__________________

“Give them a break, guys,” Eskel sighed as he wrote down his coffee order, “They had a close call. It’s not like they’re always this…”

“Gross. Skel. The word you’re looking for is gross.” Lambert snatched the paper out of his brother’s hand and stalked out of the room with Aiden in tow. 

Jaskier scrunched his nose and called from where he was tucked under Geralt’s chin, “Did we drive them away? I can get up if it’s too much.” Even as he spoke, neither he nor Geralt so much as twitched to make good on the offer. 

“Doesn’t bother me,” Eskel shrugged. 

Lambert and Aiden, mainly Lambert, were getting fed up with Geralt and Jaskier cuddling and cooing and doing general new couple bullshit. Especially since they’d been together three years now. They were recording a collaboration song, meaning everyone had to be there, but it seemed the two vocalists only really cared about each other. Jaskier sat on Geralt’s lap, played with his hair, stole kisses whenever he could… at one point Lambert caught Geralt tracing Jaskier’s lips and forced a coughing fit to get his attention. He probably thought it was subtle, even if no one else did. So to take a break and get some of what he called ‘patience juice’ (coffee), Lambert ran to their favorite coffee shop while Eskel laid down his bass line. 

It’s not that they were intentionally this annoying, not all the time at least. After the car crash, especially once Geralt started doing well in his physical therapy, the couple just couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Not to say that was the only relationship Geralt was suddenly extra involved in, it was just the most noticeable. 

Finally, after tea and coffee was distributed to everyone it was time for Geralt and Jaskier to, well, do their jobs. Jaskier was fidgeting and humming little scales, doing anything to calm the sudden nerves he felt bubbling up in his stomach. 

“You alright?” Geralt purred, nudging him with his elbow as they stood side by side at their respective microphones. When Jaskier only shrugged he continued, “What's wrong?” 

“I’m just not used to so many people being here while I…” Jaskier motioned to the mic before glancing around him and taking a deep breath, “it’s a vulnerable song…” 

Geralt’s worry lines in his forehead melted as he pulled Jaskier into his arms, “I can kick them out if you want?” he whispered. 

Shaking his head and inhaling Geralt’s scent deeply, something Jaskier had learned not to take for granted, he steeled his nerves, “I’ll be fine. Maybe a little weepy, but fine.”

As they were about to start, listening to the instrumental track and humming their parts of the song, Lambert brought Jaskier a bottle of water and set it on his music stand. He gave him a quick side hug and kissed his hair, offering a small “sorry” for all his teasing. Jaskier just giggled in response, the kind that only bubbles over from too much anticipation. He missed it, but Geralt mouthed a small ‘thank you’ to Lambert as he sat back down on the other side of the glass. 

Jaskier hooked his pinky around Geralt’s as the guitar intro started, needing that little bit of contact for the first line. When they’d written it it felt perfect. The audience knew exactly what kind of song they were about  to hear and Geralt really hadn’t known if he would pull through. It took Jaskier right back to the dimly lit hospital room where he scrawled and scratched out lyrics to keep Geralt distracted from his upcoming surgery. The fear, the desperation, the little pockets of joy when they forgot where they were, the overwhelming love that Jaskier thought he’d never be able to fully give to Geralt all crept back up his throat as he took a breath for that stupid fucking first line. 

His voice cracked partway through as he sang, making him fully grip Geralt’s hand, “I’m writing this in case I’m gone tomorrow,” By some miracle, he found his support for the next line, “I’m writing this in case I’ve moved along,”

For a moment he thought he’d gotten over the worst of it. A couple lines passed in relative ease, emotional but not so much it interfered with his craft. If he focused on looking at his microphone and keeping his breath supported he might make it through. Then Geralt joined him for the chorus. 

“When the lights go down, Know that I am never far away. When the sun burns out, I’ll be waiting on the brighter side of grey.” 

His harmony faltered and he involuntarily heaved a broken gasp in the middle of a line, desperately trying to focus on the mic that was now warped by the tears in his eyes. 

Geralt broke off after the first word of his verse, turning to Jaskier and pulling him in again, “You alright, love?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry,” Jaskier groaned in embarrassment as he clung to Geralt’s frame, “I’m being a baby. I wasn’t even the one hurt.” 

“No you’re not,” Geralt argued, running his knuckles over Jaskier’s cheeks to wipe away his tears, “Here,” he moved their mics and stands close enough that they were shoulder to shoulder and their fingers could comfortably lace together. 

Jaskier squeezed his hand gently and gave him a brave smile, “From the top?” 

“From the top.”

This time Jaskier tried watching Geralt as they sang. He made it through the first chorus and got to just watch as Geralt sang his verse. The pang of emotion in his chest was still ever present, but it was manageable. Until he noticed Geralt having trouble. 

On “All you get to keep is what you’ve shared,” Geralt squeezed his eyes closed and his grip on Jaskier’s hand tightened. The folk singer prepared, relaxed, readied himself to take a breath in. He was expecting that one to hurt after how much Geralt insisted upon it. How he threatened to get out of that hospital bed and scribble the line himself if Jaskier didn’t put it in. He wasn’t expecting the last line of the stanza to hurt. It had been comforting to the both of them at the time.

Geralt’s lip quivered and his voice was almost pinched as he sang out, “Remember no one ever really dies.”

Even being the one to write the melody, Jaskier missed the first three notes of the chorus, “Fuck. Shit. I’m so sorry.”

“No, that was on me,” Geralt sniffed and chuckled, “I knew you’d lose it if I did.”

“How do you do this?!” Jaskier exclaimed, chugging half the water bottle to keep the breakdown at bay. 

Aiden’s voice came over their headphones, “Half our songs are his trauma and another quarter are group trauma. He’s got practice sweetheart.”

They tried a couple more times, even got through the whole song once with only minimal tears and one tasteful cracked note. But it was still a struggle for Jaskier to keep it together, and the more they sang, the more Geralt lost his iron grip on his composure. 

“Look at me,” Jaskier instructed, moving Geralt to face him and adjusting their mics so they could sing to each other, “Just like when we wrote it. Except a little less pain.” 

The joke earned a snort out of Geralt, exactly what Jaskier was aiming for, “This is supposed to be easier?”

“We can try?”

Jaskier did wonderfully for his verse, singing to Geralt was familiar and safe, even if the subject matter was terrifying. The chorus went well, but as soon as Geralt started to sing, Jaskier couldn’t exhale and it was all he could do not to sniff and ruin the take. 

“If you’re hearing this I know you’re probly scared,” had tears falling down his cheeks again and Geralt’s voice cracked as his eyes welled up, “Nope,” he choked, “that’s worse. Much worse.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier gave a watery giggle as he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s middle, “Why did we decide to do this again?”

Geralt pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s hair, sniffling and holding him tight, “I think we’re sadists.”

“Back to back,” Eskel’s voice crackled in their ears, “Try it back to back.” 

Leaning back to watch Jaskier’s reaction, Geralt hummed, “Do you want to? Or do you need a break?”

“Fuck it,” Jaskier shrugged, spinning Geralt around and following suit as he moved his equipment. 

As they stood waiting for the tech to start the audio, Jaskier felt like he could really inhale for the first time all day. Geralt was there, he could feel his ribs expand against his back and his fingers tapping like a metronome on Jaskier’s palms. This is what they were missing when they wrote the damn song. The comfort of knowing someone is always at your back, that they’ll be there when it’s hard and even when you’re separated. 

A warmth spread through Jaskier as the intro started and he felt ready. He still pressed back into Geralt on the harder lines, reminding himself he was still there, but they both made it through two full takes. 

On the final one, as the recording of the softly picked guitar faded out, Jaskier couldn’t help but repeat two more lines, “When the lights go down, Know that I am never far away.”

His voice hung in the air for a beat, the sense of finality reverberating through the studio and bringing everything else to a stand still. 

Geralt was the first to breathe, “Shit, we made it.”

“We fuckin made it,” Jaskier huffed, emotionally drained but immensely satisfied as he turned to hug Geralt from behind and press his cheek to his spine, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Let’s get a snack?”

“Yeah.”

When the sound tech played the potential mix for the first time, he tacked on an echoing, distant sounding recording of their conversation. Everyone looked at each other and nodded, goosebumps on their arms and that feral sparkle in their eyes that every artist gets when they’ve stumbled on something really exciting. They re-recorded some guitar and drums, but they kept the vocals exactly the same. 

For the album art they wrote “I love you” on the tattered hospital stationary that had the lyrics and chords written on it and took a picture. Jaskier had the original framed and hung in their house as a little reminder. 

[xoxo-teddybear]

Just Stay - Bakugou Katsuki - pt.2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing

Summary: it’s been almost 2 years since the breakup and Bakugou refuses to move. No matter how many times people tell him it’s time, he ignores them because he knows he’ll run into you again. And he was right all along.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2 

Almost 2 years. About 24 months. Around 104 weeks, 730 days, 17520 hours, or 63,072,000 seconds. And every second of everyday, you run through Bakugou’s mind.

Memories of the two of you always pass through him and he always smile at the good ones. But as time went on, he realized he really wasn’t the same person anymore. Especially not to Y/N. In the beginning, he was hopelessly devoted to you and he craved to be around you. He always wanted what was best for you until he realized in the end he grew selfish. He stopped caring about your needs, neglecting you, and just assumed you’d stay because you still loved him the same way he did you. He was wrong though, and the horrible day of your split arrived.

After you left his house that day, Bakugou remained in the same place for hours. He stood there and cried with his back facing the front door, and when his legs grew tired, he fell to the ground and continued to cry.

Everybody thought he would move on but he didn’t. He still held onto hope. So for 2 years, Bakugou worked to fix himself just for you. He went to therapy to work on his excessive anger, he stopped going out as much with his friends and worked around the house to improve his home skills to help you out when you would return, and he even went as far as to get a lil dog for himself to learn to be a little more loving and compassionate.

His name was Bomber. He was a Pomeranian.

During those 2 years..it’s like you disappeared. Bakugou, and none of your friends, saw sight or heard word of you. Some people thought you moved, some thought the worst had possibly happened. But Bakugou was still going strong. If something was wrong, he would’ve felt it in his heart, but his hope was still going strong. He knew you were out there.

And he was right. For the past 2 years you’ve lived...everywhere! You never stayed in one place for too long in fear of someone from your life may get word of you being around. You’ve lived in the beautiful islands of the Caribbean all the way to the blissful cities in Paris. You’ve been all around the world and you’ve enjoyed all the sights, but you were getting tired of not really having friends and spending so much money. You missed Japan. The food, the culture, the songs, the celebration. The people. And so you decided it was time for you to head back.

You moved back home about a month ago and you made sure none of your old friends would hear about you. You wanted to settle for a little bit before interacting with the people who were a huge part of your old life and you enjoyed the quite peaceful nature. After some time, you decided it was okay to meet up with your old friends, but instead of going out and looking for them, you waited to see what destiny brought you, and now the moment has come.

You sat in the old park you used to love being in when you lived in Japan. It was spring time and the cherry blossoms were out as they covered the trail you made for yourself when you came here. In the past, you found a hidden area of the park forest that seemed...magical. There was a crystal blue lake that were filled with Lilly pads, lotuses, and koi fish. The sunlight hit perfectly on the patch of land, and dusted it with a golden honey scheme. The cherry blossom trees surrounded the place along with tall pines that reached the clouds. The cute little creatures that lived in the secluded area included bunnies, fawns, beautiful birds, and adorable foxes.

It’s been so long since you’ve been here. The last time you even stepped foot into this park was when you were with..Bakugou. But even then, the last time you went with him was about 4 months before your breakup. He was the only person you ever told about this spot and you both had so many memories here. You weren’t gonna lie, you missed him, but you didn’t know who he was now. As the 2 years past, Bakugou has gone through your mind a couple times, and you smiled towards the sky as you wondered what he’s like nowadays. If he’s any different than the last time you saw him. You really wished nothing but the best for the man you love.

Every once in awhile, Bakugou would step into the hidden sanctuary that Y/N showed him. He enjoyed going there to get away from his reality and thoughts of Y/N always came to him when he entered that special place. This time, his imagination seemed really strong because he felt like he was staring at the real deal.

He looked ahead and leaning against the tallest cherry tree was the beautiful goddess herself, Y/N L/N. She held her cool expression as she held a cute little bunny and her golden jewelry sparkled in the sunlight that hit her body perfectly. She truly did look like a goddess.

Bakugou smiled as he saw you, but he quickly shook it off as he realized there was no way it was possible. He then chose to walk to the spot, hoping that the image of you would just disappear, but he also hoped that you were real. He snuck up on you from behind but you were smarter than that. Once he got close enough you walked to the other side of the tree, out of his line of vision and went into stealth mode as you quickly used your quirk to be seated on a high branch. Bakugou saw you walk and disappear so he sighed as he “realized” you were just his imagination. However, when he finally settled and looked out beyond the valley, you jumped down to surprise him. You hopped off the branch, grabbed Bakugou and spun you both around so that you were laying against the tree and he was facing you.

“Long time no see, Bakugou,” you said with a little break in your voice as you spoke with such a “cool girl tone.” You held a sassy smile as you stared at him with all the confidence radiating off your body. Bakugou just looked at you in shock. His mouth hung open as his wide eyes traveled all around you to make sure you were real. He shook a little as he stared at you and soon his tears began to pool at his eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. You don’t gotta cry, it’s okay,” you said with a concerned smile. You wiped a stray tear that fell from his ruby eyes with your thumb and you felt heat rise to his cheeks as he leaned into your palm. “....Bakugou?....Are you- woah!”

Without warning, he quickly grabbed you and pulled you in by the waist to give you a hug. He held you tight as you were shocked but you smiled against his chest and held him too. He cried on your shoulder and after some time he finally spoke.

“I’ve missed you so much Y/N.”

“.....I’ve missed you too Katsuki.”

—

“Where have you been?” He asked as you both were seated on the grass. You and Bakugou both held onto each other for awhile as Bakugou cried his heart out like a big baby. You finally settled him and you both were sitting next to each other laying against the tree as you both sat on the grass.

“I’ve been everywhere!” You laughed out, “I’ve went to the states and hung out in L.A and Hawaii, took some time in New York and hung out in Florida. I then went to the Caribbean and partied in the Dominican Republic, and I even traveled to Europe and stayed in Paris for a bit. I’ve been all over the world traveling and finding me again.”

“You seem happy about that,” Bakugou said as he looked at you with loving eyes and a small smile that only you could ever bring out.

“I am. Ever since...um...you know...I’ve been a little lost. I lost myself and I missed the old me. My trips and alone time brought out the old me again and I’ve been feeling so much more alive,” you sighed as you settled, “but I’ve missed my roots. I’ve missed Japan and the people.....I’ve missed you too Katsuki.” You said with kind eyes as you smiled at him causing him to blush immensely.

You both remained silent as you guys enjoyed the sounds of spring. You felt the breeze blow in your hair as the warm sun comforted you. Soon, you felt Bakugou’s hand slowly touch yours. You knew he was scared to go and do anything else, but you openly welcomed his touch and he clearly became less tense.

“So...what have you been up to while I was away?” You calmly asked. You noticed Bakugou’s hesitation and deep breath before he spoke.

“I’ve been....I’ve been trying to better myself for you.” Your brows raised and eyes opened up a little wider. For the past 2 years, he’s been trying to better himself...just for you. “I’ve gone to therapy for my anger, stop going out as much, learned to do more around the house...even got a little dog to learn to be a little more compassionate.”

“Ouu! What kind?” You excitedly asked. He chuckled at your cute aura and answered your question.

“Cute little Pomeranian named bomber,” he admitted.

“No way! Cuteeee!” You squealed and Bakugou just laughed at you once again. How cute. As you thought about everything he said, your smile dropped a little into a little lip curl. A silence came over the two of you before you spoke again.

“You...you did all that for me?”

“Mhm. I wanna prove to you that I can change. That I have changed. ....I’m not telling you this to get you to come back to me..I want you to come on your own choice but I want you to know if you do decide to come back, that I’ve become better.” He explained.

You smiled and hummed to yourself in happiness. Your cheeks dusted with warmth as you smiled so much it hurt.

“Why don’t you show me how much you’ve changed Katsuki?” You offered.

“What?”

“Hehe, let’s start over. I don’t know if you’re still down for anything...but I’ve missed you over the past 2 years and I remember you saying that if a certain ‘goddess’ wanted to come back..you’d be waiting with open arms...” you looked at him and he gave an open smile that held more disbelief and happiness than excitement.

“Can we try again Suki?” You quietly asked, but Bakugou stood and picked you up. He pulled you up by your arms and pulled you even higher which caused you to jump and wrap your legs around him. You laughed out in excitement as he held you like that and rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“I should be on my hands and knees asking you that, princess.” He softly said with a broken voice but it was clear he was letting out tears of joy. You wrapped your arms around his neck even tighter as his hold on you never faltered. He started sniffling and you pulled him out of your neck as you wiped his tears.

“Suki! Stop crying,” you giggled, “this is supposed to be a happen moment.”

“Shut up! I don’t cry!” He said with a flushed face as he looked to the side but still holding you. You raised your brow at him and he only nervously laughed as he placed you down. He stuck out his hand for you to grab onto but you placed it down and wrapped your arms around his. You pecked his cheek and leaned on him as he smiled down at you. This was the moment he’s been waiting for. His princess finally came back to him. Everyone told him to move on but he knew better. If he did, he would’ve never been here right now with you again. And this time, he would make sure you’d stay.

“Suki?”

“Yes princess?”

“.......Can we go see Bomber?”

“Heh...whatever your heart desires.”

A/N: STAWWWPPP YALL THIS WAS SO BAD BUT IT WAS SO RUSHED! IM TRYNA HURRY CUZ I HAVE ANOTHER PART 2 TO WORK ON, I HAVE TO START ON THE NEXT PART OF MY SERIES AND I HAVE SO MUCH WORK TO DOOOOO😭😭😭 IM SO PISSED AT MYSELF BRO THIS COULDVE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER!!! BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED WHATEVER U COULD CUBS! See u next time! 😭💗🧸