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xoxo-mylove · 2 years ago

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Missing Something You've Never Had

(Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader, Batmom!Reader x Batboys)

*NOT EDITED*

Word count: 5,162

Synopsis: You walk in to your home to find your family looking a t you like a stranger. Your family’s counterparts discover the life they could have had and you severely miss your version of the batboys.

Warnings: Angst, LOTS and lots of angst, self-hate, Bruce Wayne’s destructive thoughts, parental issues, mommy issues and hell daddy issues too, very sad in general, I’m sorry in advance, fluff toward the end

(*A/N: I lied in my last post lol I definitely was not writing but I finished this very sad batmom one-shot that I hope will make up for it before going into this new year! I won’t guarantee another one-shot soon but I will promise you it will be an Al Ghul!Reader! So be on the lookout!! Anyway, keep in mind this Bruce is very much canon Bruce Wayne who is allergic to affection. I hope you enjoy lovelies)

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Coming back from work and seeing your family look at you like you were an alien was definitely...shocking. And yet right there they were.

After not seeing your family in the kitchen once you arrived home. you immediately went down to the Batcave.

Walking down the steps and approaching your husband with a smile you didn’t even hear Barry’s shout ‘Wait Y/N!’ before you embraced your love and felt him stiffen under your touch.

It seems that your action ensued silence over the room and you slowly let Bruce go and looked around the room to see your boys looking at you with obvious shock underneath their cowls and masks.

Damian looks at you with an expression you haven’t been faced with since when he first arrived at the manor. Your baby boy looking at you with suspicion and contempt was staggering. This was the first crack that formed in your heart.

Then there was Tim. Your Tim, looking at you with a guarded appearance and eyes screaming caution. Like you weren’t supposed to be there. Your boy who would immediately come to you after his night out and seek a hug. Now it was like he was looking through you, creating yet another crack in your heart.

Next was Jason whose face added to your heartbreak when he merely glanced at you. Not even sparing you an extra look as if you weren’t someone on his radar. Your Jay-bird looking at you with such indifference and lack of love.

And your first son. Your oldest looking at you with no love but concern. Not concerned for you but for his brothers. As if your mere presence was disrupting something. As if there is no reason you should be there.

No reason.

You glance back at Bruce to see him looking at you with that stare. The guarded batman stare. Now you feel dizzy. Quickly glancing towards Barry not wanting to see your Bruce looking at you like that, you face Barry with widened eyes and a flushed face.

Barry looking at you with genuine sympathy says the words that confirmed all your worst fears. “This isn't your family Y/N. They’re from a different universe”

God, you're going to be sick.

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After seeing your shocked face and the uncomfortable, suffocating silence in the room Barry took you back inside the manor to explain to you and Alfred what happened. Leaving your fa- leaving them in the cave.

Apparently, Barry had a run-in with reverse Flash and somehow your family was sucked into a wormhole transporting them into another universe while taking a version of your family in that universe here. in your universe..... It was all very confusing and devastating to hear and you shed a few tears.

You had to have asked Barry a dozen questions about this other universe about where they could be, how this happened, and most importantly, how you were going to get them back. Barry told you that he and the league are figuring it out and will find them and you believe him.

So here you are sitting at dinner with a different version of your family in silence. It actually makes you want to cry.

Right now the boys would be telling you and Bruce about their day and catching you both up on their lives. Instead, they’re looking down at their plates while awkwardly glancing at you and hurriedly glancing away once you make eye contact with them.

It’s horrible.

And don't even get started on Bruce, that man has made a point to not even glance at you the entire duration of dinner. Just sitting there with a blank face and clearing his throat every few minutes.

It’s horrible.

Having enough of the silence (felt like knives in your back not being able to talk to your family) you clear your throat and immediately all their eyes shoot towards you.

Flushing from the attention your smile hesitantly chooses to try and talk to them instead of silence. They are still your family. They’re still your boys and husband. You’re just not their person right now. And until you can see your family again (you will see them again) you still care for these people and will do anything to make sure they are comfortable in their home.

“I- I know this is- well this situation we are in is very.... umm well it’s very”

“Weird” Dick blurts out before he can stop himself, earning a look from Bruce whose attention has been solely on you since you opened your mouth.

“Yes, Hon- I mean yes, Dick It’s very weird. But this is--- no matter what universe you all are from it’s still your home. And I don’t want you guys to be uncomfortable in your own home so if you have any questions just.... well just ask.”

the silence stretches out between you all before you hear a voice from your left.

“What exactly are you to us- I mean what are you to them?” Tim asks.

The question itself was easy to answer before but now in front of the boys who you know have got through horrible and traumatic things just the same as yours. You don’t know how they will react especially Bruce, Mr. Idontdesrvelove. (Though he’s gotten so much better with you and the kids)

“Well, I'm your guy’s mom.”

Silence. Deafening silence and then Alfred thankfully arrives, saving you from the conversation you know you’ll have to have at some point. But not today. Not when it’s so fresh.

“Miss Y/N, you do have an early day tomorrow so I think it’s all time we retire to bed. I'm sure you all are especially tired from your night.” Alfred says with a sympathetic tone you are so grateful for.

“Of course” You stand up from your chair drawing attention to you once again.

You face your......you face the boys and smile softly and bid them goodnight. Hoping that when you wake up that this is all a bad dream and Bruce will be snoring in the bed and you hear your kid's voices outside the door.

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Bruce’s POV

This is all very uncomfortable. Bruce has a wife whom he’s never met in his life and who is the mother to his children.

Bruce watches you walk up the stairs to a bed that they share or he shares with you. The other him.

Ever since you hugged him in the Batcave and looked at him with eyes so tender and full of love Bruce couldn't help but feel a small amount of jealousy of....the other him. He has it all. He has children and a wife. Who loves him. He must not be as fucked up as he is. Your Bruce probably still has his parents or didn't witness their murder and has healthy coping issues. Yeah, he's envious of this other him.

Bruce looks to his kids to see them also confused staring at you. Is this what your kids have as a mother? Someone to go to for that soft and soothing guidance. How he remembers his mother was to him. He’s not just envious of the other Bruce but envious for his children. His rampant thoughts are stopped when Alfred- your Alfred speaks again.

“master...Master Bruce, I've set you up in the spare room by master Jason’s. It is ready for you to retire in whenever you see fit. Boys your rooms are... well they are ready for you but if this manor is different ill be happy to show you the way.”

“Don't worry Alfred this manor is the same as ours” Jason speaks up for the first time since arriving.

“Very well boys if you need me I'll be in the kitchen preparing tea for Miss Y/N” Alfred takes his leave and the boys instantly start up their conversations.

“This is freaky..” Tim says while glancing at his Bruce and brothers.

“Yeah. We have a...mother in this universe” Dick hesitantly says, like saying the word ‘mother’ is all but confusing to him.

“yeah, I probably don’t get snuffed by Joker in this one” Jason offers sarcastically. Bruce closes his eyes at this and leans back in his chair. He saw Jason’s Robin costume. Identical to the one in their Batcave. Maybe this universe isn’t as good as he thought if your Bruce still couldn’t save Jason from his fate.

Damian ever the blunt kid speaks Bruce's thoughts, “Tch, I don't think so Todd. I saw your infamous Robin costume. Identical to the one in our universe” He says snidely.

“Yeah, me too evil spawn. It’s called a joke.” Jason responds while rolling his eyes.

“Boys. Enough” Bruce says with a firm tone that stops all conversation.

“Let’s go to the sitting room we have a lot to discuss.” Bruce stands up and leaves the kitchen hearing the sound of footsteps and disgruntled murmurs trailing after him.

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Bruces POV

The boys and he have been talking about how to get back to their universe for a while. Bruce has made it a point to not bring up you in the conversation. Silence just ensues and awkward answers when you are brought up.

Talking with Dick about using the Batcave to contact this universes League and help get home he sees Damian get up off the chair and stride to a cabinet filled with...CDs? Damian grabs four of them and hesitantly grabs another looking at it for a second before putting it underneath the other four and walking back to the couch.

“I found CDs that have our names on them.” He announces effectively stopping all conversation and capturing all of our attention.

The silence stretches out before Dick speaks up, “Should we watch them.” When everyone is still silent he hurriedly explains himself “Well, I just mean are you curious about how the other versions of us live. Especially with Y/N”

It's silent again until suddenly Jason stands up ripping the CDs from Damian's hands (making him scramble up to get them back before Dick scolds him) and puts one in effectively shutting everyone up and their attention is drawn to the TV.

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Dick’s POV

This whole day has been extremely weird and uncomfortable. Especially uncomfortable to know that another version of him has another mom. And yet as he watches the home video play out the feeling of uncomfortableness leaves and jealousy replaces it.

He watches Bruce and you record yourself making him his birthday breakfast. Something that sounds so simple and normal it makes Dick’s heart break a little.

“BRUCE STAWP!” You squeal dodging the whipped cream he tries to get on your face. “What? You can do it to me but I can’t do it to you?” your Bruce asks with a smile and whip cream plopped on his nose. “Yes, it is fair because I am the one making our son's birthday breakfast,” You say looking into the camera with a big beautiful smile. The boys and Bruce see your Bruce pick up the camera and record you putting the finishing touches on your Dick’s pancakes. “It’s six a.m love, the kid is still drooling right now” They hear Bruce say behind the camera.“Still Bruce, we need to sing happy birthday first thing in the morning!” your say with a childish whine. While balancing the tray of breakfast food and smiley pancakes in a tray.

Dick feels his throat close up and the need to run away while watching the video. This love that he sees you have for your Dick and the care your Bruce is showing is something he has never experienced since living with Bruce and yet misses. Can you miss something you’ve never had? Because this is definitely how he feels. Dick remembers the touch and love of a mother and watching this just reminds him of the feeling.

The boys watch as Bruce records you opening the door to your Dick’s room and see little dick sleeping with drool on his pillow.“God, he’s going to be embarrassed when he’s older and watches this video” they hear Bruce say with a quiet laugh. You turn and give him a fake stern look and crouch down by Dick’s bed and softly shake him awake. Your Dick slowly opens his eyes and focuses on you. His face instantly lit up and a smile breaks out on his face. “Mom!” he yells out happily pulling the covers back while you set the tray on his lap. Giving him a kiss on the cheek good morning. They hear Bruce laugh and tell Dick happy birthday while giving him an affectionate head shake. The boys and Bruce watch Dick and the two of you sing ‘Happy Birthday’, eat pancakes together, laugh and smile, and basically be a family. The video ends with Dick taking the camera from Bruce and whispering into the lens saying, “This is the best Birthday ever!” with a cheesy smile on his face.

Dick is uncharacteristically silent while everybody looks at him. He finally stands up and takes his CD out putting someone else’s in drawing their attention back to the TV.

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Damian’s POV

This whole thing is ridiculous. Everyone is getting all sappy over a single woman who none of them know. Damian sees this as stupid and it quite frankly makes him angry. He already has a mother. he doesn't need to listen and watch himself with a strange woman.

And yet just like Dick, the anger turns to sadness and he also becomes jealous. Watching another version of himself receive the love and attention that Damian has only seen in movies and read in books. And yet as he watches him and his siblings fight to open presents he is reminded that he is just a kid.

Who just wants a family.

“Everyone! Everyone!” Video you calls out to your children currently fighting for presents. “Because this is Damian’s first Christmas with us he will be opening the first gift,” you say in a tone that makes all your children concede and watch Damian open one of his gifts. As you hand your Damian a gift wrapped in Christmas Robin wrapping and a black bow he immediately dives in and opens it to find a collar. Confused he looks at you and at his father to see you both smiling at him, chuckling. Your Damian watches you leave the room and come back in with a black kitten with white paws in your arms. Damian lets out a loud gasp and runs to you taking the cat in his arms. The camera zooms in on his blinding smile and his small whisper of “Thank you Ummi” to you. The boys and Damian watch as you give him a big kiss on his forehead and Bruce giving him a big hug.

The silence stretches out between the group because everyone knows that in their universe Damian doesn't receive Alfred the cat in such a memorable and sweet way.

Damian especially is just staring at the screen yearning for that motherly love. And a bad thought crosses his mind of what if they just stayed here. Damn the consequences. He wishes for this mom.

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Tim’s POV

Tim’s always been curious and once he saw you giving an affectionate hug to Bruce and the pain that went across your face when his brothers and he looked at you with indifference.

Watching his brother's faces while they watched their home videos he was a little scared of his.

His mother has always been distant and he’s never really experienced motherly love but watching you in the home videos, he’s scared to see you with him and be consumed with jealousy like his brothers. Scared to watch you love a version of himself and not experience that love.

And yet he watches his video and is filled with that feeling anyway.

“Hellooo whoever is watching this home video!” you say with a smile. “It’s probably us sweetheart,” Bruce says popping into the frame. You hurriedly move the camera away from him and talk to the camera. “Ignore him. But today we are at Tim’s school watching him graduate!” you say with a happy squeal and turn the camera to zoom in on Tims's figure clad in his cap and gown, oblivious to your recording him. “Tim is graduating with high honors and receiving multiple awards tonight” the boys and Bruce listen to your Bruce say in an obviously proud tone. The boys watch as multiple names are called and you both politely clapping for every student. And once you hear Tim’s name you both go ballistic. While as ballistic as your Bruce could go by whistling and clapping louder than ever with a proud grin. But for you, you're screaming at the top of your lungs, on the verge of sobbing, shouting “My baby boy!” earning looks from bystanders and laughs from your husband. The video ends with your Bruce recording you giving your Tim the biggest hug and kiss on the cheek while he smiles a bashful smile and celebrates with you and his dad.

Tim’s thoughts run rampant so much that he needs to lie down. He’s never felt this bitter and angry. His Bruce didn't come to his graduation and he’s watching everything he’s ever wanted happen on screen.

It's not right and it's not fair.

Why does your family get you and they don’t?

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Jason’s POV

He already knows what’s going to be on that CD. He knows how he’ll react and he knows that he mentally can’t do that right now. He can’t watch something that he died for (a mother's love) play out in front of him.

He won't do it.

“I’m going to bed” Jason suddenly announces. It's suffocating in the living room and he can’t deal with looking at anybody’s face any longer.

He doesn't stick around for an answer he just goes up to his...other his’s room. He expects to see a room identical to his but once he opens the door he sees a completely different room.

This one looks lived in. Like someone uses it. In his universe, he rarely goes into his childhood room. Too many memories and too many feelings he rather not face. But this room. There are recent pictures of him. Multiple pictures of him and his... family all happy together.

He hurriedly looks away and strips himself of his extra gear and lies on his..or his bed in silence. He feels uncomfortable very weird.

He turns on his side prepared to close his eyes and hopefully not wake up for a long time when he sees it. On his bedside table is a framed photo of you and him. He’s in front of you smiling a cheesy bright smile (missing teeth prominent in the photo) dressed in a Peter Pan costume. Your arms are wrapped around his neck with a beautiful grin on your face dressed in a Tinker bell costume.

It’s so stupid but it makes him smile like a fool because at least a version of himself finally received the love of a mother.

Something he’s yearned for all his life before joker was to have a mother in his life and the thought that he gets that in a different universe is what makes it easy for him to close his eyes and sleep that night.

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Bruce’s POV

Jason just left and the suffocating silence returns.

Bruce sees Dick slowly rise from the couch and tell everybody to go to bed and something about talking more in the morning. He hears his sons rise from the couch sleepily making their way into their rooms and feels Dick linger by the doorway.

“Bruce are....are you going to bed?” he hears the hesitance in his voice and he wonders if Dick was going to ask him a different question but stopped himself.

Isn’t that the relationship they have? Unable to communicate and ask each other what's wrong.

It’s all his fault.

If he wasn’t so scared he could have found Y/N in his life and his family would have been different.

He would have been different.

he finally finds words to answer his son, “I think...I think I'm going to stay up a little while longer.” he says while turning his profile to him.

Bruce hears him whisper a soft “okay” and walks off into his room for the night. He waits until he hears the door close, to get up off the couch and grab the CD labeled ‘Wedding’.

The mere title makes his stomach drop but he’s always been one to emotionally scar himself. He sits back down to watch the video play out. He releases a strangled sigh when he sees himself in a suit and tie.

“What does the Groom to be have to say on this lovely day” a voice Bruce recognizes as Clark says. He sees himself looking at the camera dressed to impress with a small smile on his face rolling his eyes at his friend's tone. “I'm very happy today Clark” the lucky him responds. “Oh yeah! Why might that be you think?” Your Bruce sighs, “Because I'm getting married to the love of my life Clark.” Bruce hears your Clark release an annoying ‘awwww’ that makes your bruce roll his eyes and shoo him off. He watches the video for a while and he sees the whole league there. He sees his friends as Bruce Wayne and Batman all together for you and your Bruce. He watches your friends and your Bruces friends leave sweet heartfelt messages that you both probably watched later. Alfred's message is what makes his throat constrict. “I’ve known Master Bruce since he was a little boy and I can't tell you how happy it makes me to be able to see him finally share his life with the most graceful woman on this planet. Someone who continues to amaze me with her beautiful character and who I think of as a daughter. I am unbelievably happy that my boy has met you and is going to spend the rest of his life with you. I love you both very much.” With tears building in his eyes, he sees Clark open the door to see you in a white dress with a brilliant smile. When you open your mouth to speak is when the video starts to buffer and stop.

Bruce sits up in his seat praying that the video starts to work again when it completely pauses on your face.

The video stopped working.

And maybe that is the breaking point but the tears fall and he drops his head into his hands. Shoulders shaking and gasping for breath he cries. He cries because of the life he could’ve lived. The person he could have lived it with.

He cries for the mother his kids could have had and the presence that could have helped them through their lives. His kids. His wonderful kids deserved that and he hates himself for not giving that to them.

He also hates himself for not letting himself have that.

He doesn't know how but he eventually gets up off the couch and walks to the extra room by Jason’s. He passes your room on the way and just stands in front of it. This is the room you share with him. The other him.

He wonders what it feels like to sleep in another person's arms for years. He never knew he could want something like that.

He doesn't sleep that night. Not even a little bit.

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Y/N’s POV

Waking up today felt like a dream for you. You closed your eyes relishing in the warmth you expected to be there only to feel cold.

Your eyes snap open. Oh yeah, he’s not here.

They’re not here. And yet they are. They are all inside the manor in their rooms but they are not yours. They are not your boys or husband. They are versions of your kids and best friend.

But that doesn't mean you can be weird to them you scold yourself.

This is weird to them too. This woman they’ve never met in their lives claiming to be their mother and wife. You’d be freaked out too.

Right there in your bed, you swear to at least talk to your kids. Even though they are not your kids you could never not love any version of them. Getting ready for the day you walk downstairs to see them all inside the kitchen.

Immediately all their eyes draw to you and you smile at them softly. “Good Morning,” you say to them all, failing to catch Bruce’s eyes. You hear soft greetings back while getting your coffee ready.

“I’ve warmed up the car for you Miss Y/N” you hear Alfred say.

“Oh thank you! I'll be leaving in a few,” you reply back gratefully. You never wake up early enough to do it yourself. Bruce usually does it for you during the cold months.

“Where are you going?” you hear five different voices say all at once. You turn around to see them all looking expectantly at you.

Shocked that they’ve said more than three words to you. It takes you a while to reply.

“Oh, I um I'm going to work in early today, I'm an architect.” The silence and surprise in their eyes is kind of insulting. They must notice you take offense because Dick hurriedly tries to explain their shock.

“Not in an offensive way course. You seem very smart. It’s just being an architect in Gotham City. How do you find work?" he asks.

“Oh well, I usually deal with orphanages and hospitals in the city. And because it’s Gotham those are the most important buildings,” you say with a sad like chuckle.

“so you are not a vigilante?” Damian suddenly asks. The question receives looks from his brothers and father but a laugh just escapes you.

“Oh god no, the only vigilante work I do is cardio and that is enough in itself,” you say with a smart smile. They all give chuckles probably humoring you. Before you're hit with the reminder of leaving for your job

“Shoot it’s seven! I- I gotta go but call if you need anything and.. and if you guys find anything out.” You look to see them all give you a nod and bid you goodbye before you are out the door.

Progress? hopefully.

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Bruce’s POV

It’s been hours since you left and now he and the kids are at league headquarters trying to get back home. And bring your family home. Even though they may not want to leave. As selfish as it is he wants to stay. Even though he knows he’s not yours he would love to feel an ounce of what it's like to be loved by you.

But because he knows you are deserving of the love back he knows he has to get your Bruce back.

Your Barry has been going on and on about the plan he has to travel through the speed force successfully bringing this universe’s bat family back and then taking Bruce’s back to their universe. Everyone crowds around to see him do it. With his boys at his side, he watches the blinding red light zoom back and forth before eventually disappearing.

His family, the league members, and himself wait silently staring out waiting for Barry to come back. To come back with their lucky counterparts.

Bruce holds his breath when he sees Barry coming back and releases it when he sees Barry....with your family. He sees the exact version of his family all release breaths of relief and immediately look for someone.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who they are looking for.

Finally, it seems like they spot Bruce and his kids cause they all simultaneously tense up and guard their expressions. It’s staggering how alike they both look at that moment but they both know only one of them has you.

That’s what makes them different.

They all silently watch your family embrace their friends in the league before they walk to Bruce and his children.

It’s that awkward silence again before your Bruce speaks to him.

“How is she?” Three simple words that will stick with Bruce forever.

“She’s okay. The last time we saw her she was just leaving for work.”

Your Bruce just gives him a nod and walks off. Telling his sons he’ll be waiting in the car. Bruce imagines he’s antsy to see you. He would want to speed home if he knew he had someone like you waiting for him.

He’s about to walk back to your Barry to finally go home when your Damian speaks up, “You imbeciles better not have caused any heartache to my mother. Or I will personally ask Allen to take me ba-”

“OKAY! That’s enough of you Damian. Go wait in the car with Dad.” Dick says with his hand pointed to the black car.

“But I wa-”

“Go.” This time it’s Jason and Tim telling him and Damian just rolls his eyes and walks to the car muttering insults under his breath.

Your boys turn back to face Him and his kids, and Dick tries to start up a conversation but it’s too awkward talking to another version of yourself so they bid Bruce and his family goodbye, and they watch them walk to their car. Back home to you.

And once they safely arrive back in their universe it’s weird because they know what they're missing. What they could have had.

You.

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Y/N’s POV

Walking into your home your not expecting to be bombarded with hugs.

Not. At. All.

Still expecting for the other version of your family to be home or in the cave.

But you feel multiple familiar arms wrap around your waist and shoulders and you instantly know they’re home.

You almost cry out of relief when they all scream ‘MOM!’ and squeeze you extra tight.

“AHHH my baby birds! I missed you!” You squeal out wrapping your arms (or trying to) all around your boys, kissing them all over their faces, and smothering them in your arms. You feel them loosen up and get a good look at all their faces and the tears start building in your eyes. Gods, you missed them so much. The horrible thought of never seeing them again had you going throughout your day feeling horrible.

You caress the cheeks and kiss all their forehead until they're begging you to stop. and trying to escape. You look down to see Damian still cuddled up to your side and almost melt, you kiss him on the head once more.

You hear all your kids talking at once trying to listen when you see him behind them. You smile with tears running down your cheeks and your kids part away from you and you run toward your husband, crying into his chest and hugging him with all your might. You feel your Bruce instantly wrap his arms tight around your waist and tuck his head into your neck.

“I- I missed you... I missed you so much. So much” you say through tears.

“I know sweetheart. Me too. Me too.” You hear him whisper into your neck and pull his face back.

You look up to see him analyzing every aspect of your face, looking at you like you’re not real.

You instantly wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him and it finally hits you that they are home. That he’s home.

And you can finally breathe again.

BROOO I definitely got carried away lol. AHHH BUT I LOVE IT SO WHO CARES! I've had this in my drafts for months and I'm so excited to finally be posting it. I hope you all ENJOYED! LOVE YOU LOTS! Feedback is always appreciated!! <333

#dceu universe #batfamily #bruce wayne #dceu fanfiction #bruce wayne x reader #batmom x dick grayson #batmom x tim drake #batmom x damian wayne #batmom x jason todd #sadbat dad #dceu oneshot #dceu x reader #batfamily angst #architect!y/n

3K notes · View notes

changbinsboiledegg · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I really like your works and want to request, if you are okay with it, skz reaction, when their s/o is.. have money, so she can spoil them? For example.. after a hard day she gift them some big bouquet or take to eat out. Like.. yk usually it's reader being spoiled like a princess, but we do it reverse hehe

EEEE thank you! I’m glad you like them :) Of course I’m okay with this. I love this idea because while being spoiled sounds nice, there are some people who like spoiling their S/O so I love the idea of reverse, like yes pamper them.

GN! Reader X SKZ

Warnings: Mentions of stress but overall fluff. Reader is rich as hell.

Note: I’m not a gold digger but the reader gives me butterflies, pls sugar daddy/mommy/they me. No but I really liked this idea even though I’m not rich, I still channeled my inner ‘rich bitch’ for this :P . Anyways, as always, if no one told you today, ilyy 🫶

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Chan

You had to find out from the others that he was having a hard day. They were worried about him and now, so were you.

Luckily, you knew a way to help. Even if a bit over the top to others, to you, nothing was too over the top if it was for Chan.

“Hey, did you send the caterers?”

You read his message with a smile, glad to hear they found him without issue.

“Yes. Eat well, my love.”

Chan sent you a picture of all of the food you had catered to him. It was enough to feed him, the boys, and probably the entire building. Not that you saw a problem with that.

“Come eat with me?”

Lee Know

You planned this in private for weeks before their comeback. You knew they’d earn a win, the new album was just too good not to.

You watched the stage confidently, seeing Minho’s smile as their win was announced.

Minho glanced down at you in the audience, his smile remaining as you winked at him.

Once they had left the building, you made your way to where Minho was with the guys and saw they were marveling at the sky.

“What’s going on?” You asked, coming up beside your boyfriend. Minho looked down at you, shaking his head with a smirk. “Don’t act like this isn’t your doing.”

He looked back up at the sky were airplanes were spelling out “Congrats on the win, SKZ.” In clouds of smoke.

Changbin

After all of the hard work he does, you figured he was long overdue of a day of relaxation. You already let the others know that Changbin and be ‘out of commission’ for the entire day, unbeknownst to Changbin, who was only told to keep his schedule clear for this day.

You blind folded him the entire drive to the most luxurious and private spa in the area.

“It smells nice. Where are we?” Changbin asked, gripping your shoulders as he followed your lead. You checked in and turned to remove his blind fold.

“Ah! You didn’t!” Changbin was happy, completely ready to relax— and with you too. You smiled at him, knowing he deserved this.

“I did. You need to destress. Can’t have my Binnie frazzled, now can I?” You took his hand and lead him after the staff, who had begun to lead you to your designated room.

Hyunjin

It pained you to see your boyfriend look so exhausted and stressed most days and you wanted nothing more than for him to just unwind and smile more.

“Oh this looks nice.” Hyunjin showed you a nice— but very much expensive jacket with soft fabric and pretty designs.

“Do you want it?” You asked, lightly feeling the fabric. Hyunjin stared at it a second longer.

“Maybe I’ll get it later.” Hyunjin said. You knew this was his way of saying yes when he wanted something deep down.

So you bought it, along with everything else he looked at, admired, and said ‘maybe later’.

By the end of the day, Hyunjin had clothes, jewelry and other miscellaneous items that cost more than a new car.

Han

Jisung always wore the designer clothes and jewelry you bought him, even going viral for how good he looked wearing them.

“People are speculating whether I’m dating a fashion designer.” Jisung chuckled, reading comments on his phone.

You smirked, looking up from your phone. “That’s pretty flattering.”

Jisung laughed a little louder, reading a few more comments before putting his phone down and moving closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“You have good taste. Are you sure you’re not living a double life?” He asked, mindlessly watching you scroll through your phone.

“It words be easier to get you the exclusives if I were.” You mumbled, putting your phone down. “… Which reminds me.”

Jisung perked up, watching as you pulled out a gift box. He opened it eagerly, seeing a set of rings.

“For your comeback.” You added, watching him try them on. Jisung chuckled, admiring the rings, “almost thought you were proposing ten times.”

Felix

Felix was pulled out of his sleep to a knock on his door in the dorms. Then another knock, followed by Chan’s voice.

“You have a delivery!”

“I’m coming!” Felix grumbled, opening the door to be greeted by a huge bouquet of flowers. He rubbed his eyes before taking the bouquet from Chan and immediately finding the note attached.

“Sorry I’m not able to give these to you myself, I’ll be out of town for the weekend! Here’s beautiful flowers for my sunshine. I hope you have a great day today and I love you.”

His thumb absentmindedly traced over your name signed on the note and smiled widely.

“Ah, typical.” Felix commented under his breath, feeling his heart swell as he reread your words.

Seungmin

Ever since the first gift he’s received from you, he’s made it his mission to gift you back something just as or even more elaborate and you, none the wiser, gift him back, unintentionally entering his ‘gift war’.

It took you months before you realized you were in this war with him. The only reason you found out was because Seungmin accidentally sent you a picture of what he was getting you next, intending to tell Jeongin.

“You know I’m going to win, right?” Seungmin mischievously smiled at you as you both had a gift from each other in front of each other.

“If you win, it’s because I let you.” You started to peel the wrapping paper off of the box. Seungmin followed your actions, scoffing at your statement.

When he opened his gift, he froze in awe, “woah.”

You smiled at his reaction, getting to the gift he got you. You widened your eyes, one hand covering your mouth.

“Woah…”

I.N

You made sure Jeongin’s favorite restaurant was empty, renting it out for just the two of you after the hard week he had.

Jeongin sat across from you, excited and hungry as he plated his meal, the two of you eating.

“Mmm… thank you, this is just as good as I remember!” Jeongin’s taste buds were in heaven from the savory flavors.

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad to see you enjoying yourself.” You ate your own meal, content knowing that the hardships of the past week seemed to melt away.

“You’re the best.” Jeongin eagerly ate, his words sounding muffled from the food in his mouth. You laughed a little, “slow down. Don’t choke!”

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz fluff

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inbarfink · 11 months ago

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So when I first saw this little reference to the Von Karma/Karuma family getting started I didn’t think about it much outside of ‘heh, cute’, and ‘shame there’s no way to make it 100% work in the Localization Continuity’ and ‘it’s kinda funny how the Von Karma line and Phoenix’s stories are going to be so inextricably linked in so many ways and yet it started as nothing more flashy than just ‘oh yeah, the apprentice of my boyfriend’s dad exists, I guess’.

But actually, dwelling about it a bit more, I think there is a bigger thematic throughline going on here with this connection between the Von Karmas and Kazuma. I mean, pretty much since Ryunosuke introduced him as his best friend and then started homoerotically gushing about how great he is, veteran AA players were set on seeing him as a counterpart to Edgeworth. And the comparisons obviously only grew once he re-emerged as angst-ridden prosecutor driven by daddy issues.

But the way he’s connected to the Von Karma family is an aspect that helps to emphasize the fact that if Kazuma Asogi is meant to mirror Miles Edgeworth- then he really is a mirror. Kazuma is less of a direct counterpart and more of a Reverse Edgeworth.

It’s even a key element in the visual design of his prosecutor outfit!

Red suit, white cravat. White suit, red cravat.

Miles Edgeworth apprenticed under the Von Karma family…. And the First Von Karma/Karuma apprenticed under Asogi’s family. This whole thing even comes right before the exchange that most obviously drives home the whole ‘Edgeworth in Reverse’ point.

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lovelybunn · 2 years ago

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NSFW HEADCANONS: POST COVID STAN MARSH EDITION.

requested by @krispydreamerwolf

warning(s): sexual themes, uses of petnames, afab!reader

author's note: OH EM GEE I FEEL SO BAD FOR WAITING SO LONG TO POST THIS, BUT I HAD NO IDEAS MAN :((((((((

His kinks.

hair pulling.

i really hope you don't have short hair, cuz my god, he don't give two shits, he'll fucking pull that shit out of your head if he really wants to. but fr, stan will tug at your hair till your screaming his name, begging for him to stop or at least be less aggressive.

ㅤ

spanking.

rosy ass cheeks? yes please. he'll use a variety of things: his belt, his hands, a literal stick, a whip, etc. he likes a lot of things that come with spanking you, the satisfaction he feels for "punishing" you, the screams and yelps of mixed pain and pleasure from you, the way your body shivers with each snap, among many other things.

ㅤ

being called 'daddy'.

daddy issues in reverse!!! the feeling of power and authority over you just hits this man in just the right way. the pitiful look on your face as you call him that, begging for him to fuck you, is his version of therapy.

ㅤ

cock warming.

whether it's in your mouth, asshole, or pussy, he never wants to take his dick out. you just feel so warm around him, how could he? stan will sometimes even fall asleep with him still inside you, so you'll have to figure out how to get his cock out of you without waking him up.

ㅤ

face fucking.

in relation to the one above, stan loves basically breaking your jaw while he plummets himself in and out of your mouth. seeing the head of his penis hit the back of your throat fills him with so much lustful joy. and you having a gag reflex? ten times better.

What petnames does he give you?

sweet-pea.

i heard him say it once in the special and ran away with it. he says it more during foreplay then anything, to get you all hot and heavy and to prepare you for the pounding your most definitely going to receive for the night.

ㅤ

slut.

"you're such a fucking slut, taking daddy's cock like that. you're my little slut, aren't you?" especially calls you this when he's drunk, it's just his way of reminding you who you belong to.

Ass, Thighs, or Tits?

ass.

as i already established with this post, stan marsh is most definitely an ass man. but how much does he love ass you may ask? any and every single time he is behind you, your butt is bound to get smacked. and he absolutely loves fucking you from the back, he'll do it so hard that you'll be sore for days.

How vocal is he?

VERY. too vocal.

like father, like son. you know that one clip of randy covered head to toe in his own cum? now imagine that with stan. he doesn't ever hold back, you just feel too goddamn good for him to even want to. also, just a heads up, stan marsh also got his roughness from his father, so the harder he goes, the louder he is.

Head, both giving and receiving.

giving.

he does it, but not very well. wendy didn’t teach him shit. but the plus side of that he's amazing with his fingers, so if you have a hand kink, here you go, enjoy~.

receiving.

"sweetpea, can you come here and help daddy? i've been so stressed lately..." getting head from you is the only thing keeping him from losing his ever loving mind. this man will create every and any excuse to get you to give him head. bruv is fucking DESPERATE.

His favorite position.

doggystyle.

do i really have to explain? he likes any position where your ass in his main view, but stan's a simple man. doggy's classic, and he's always down for it.

Aftercare: Does he do it?

ehh, it depends.

most of the time, stan will just instantly pass out, dick still resting inside you (as i said at the very beginning of this post). but on the rare, he'll actually clean up. he'll praise you from time to time, but it's awkward as hell, "you did good. that was fun." he'll even give you that awkward white man no lip smile (that personally makes me cringe). but bathing after sex, no ma'am, he does not do that. not gonna happen.

#south park #south park post covid #south park headcanons #south park hcs #south park x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #i've went down this rabbithole once before #i've embraced it #h0rni #i put my whole bunnussy into this

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icyhawt · 4 years ago

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streets

pairing: hajime iwaizumi x reader

genre: smut

warnings: 18+ nsfw, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral (male receiving), choking, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight size kink, slight praise kink

summary: you give your boyfriend top at the red light

you sigh as you climb into the passenger seat of the car, your body feeling heavy because of how tired you were. as you settle into the seat you hear the door of the driver’s side opening. your head lolling to the side, you see your boyfriend. you catch iwaizumi’s eyes and with a small smile he leans forward pecking your lips.

after pulling back, he begins to put his seat belt on and breaks the comfortable silence, “i hope tonight wasn’t too much. i know you don’t really like parties.”

oikawa had thrown a little new year’s kickback as a celebration of not only the new year but him finally being back in japan. he had invited a majority of the seijoh boys and of course iwaizumi. being oikawa’s closest friend, iwaizumi knew he had to show up or else oikawa would whine about it for the months to come. truth be told, hajime was looking forward to spending his new year with you cuddled on the couch while some random countdown special played in the background. clearly that wasn’t the case. the both of you had went and hajime had made it known that he didn’t feel like drinking tonight but he had no issue if you wanted to. you had decided not to drink too much because you didn’t want your boyfriend to ring in the new year by holding your hair up while you threw your guts up in the toilet. although, you knew that if that were to happen he would have no problem with it. a couple beers and a shot or two later, you and hajime decided to take your leave early in hopes that you two could make it home before the clock hit 12:00.

leaning your head back against the headrest you close your eyes and smile, “no, it’s okay. i had a lot of fun. nothing beats seeing makki and mattsun doing drunk karaoke.”

hajime begins to reverse the car, placing his hand on the back of your headrest as he looks back. he shakes his head, “yeah but hearing that shit is awful, i almost went deaf.”

he looks at you briefly before directing his attention to the road in front of him, “are you okay though? you need me to pick up anything?”

you were always able to handle your liquor fairly well so you don’t feel anything more than a slight buzz. you open your eyes to look at your boyfriend, slight smile still on your face, “i’m okay, just wanna be home.”

you turn your attention to the radio in front of you and turn it on. pulling out your phone, you connect it and scroll through your playlists until you find the one titled ‘late night drives.’ as the first song flows out of the speakers, you settle back into your seat. you’re about to close your eyes again when you feel hajime’s hand make its way into your thigh. the short length of your dress making it easy for him to grip the flesh there. his hand doesn’t trail up any further, opting to stay put with his thumb rubbing against your skin up and down.

the touch does nothing except heat your body up with desire. you glance down at the large hand resting on your thigh and bring your eyes to look up at hajime. you give him a once over, eyes settling on his face. maybe it was the alcohol but god did he look so fucking good. the cut of his jaw, the curve of his nose, everything. trailing your eyes lower, you look over his neck and then you find yourself staring at his arm. it was no secret that iwaizumi took care of himself, especially physically. countless hours of being at the gym paying off in the form of his defined torso, thick thighs and bulging biceps. you find your mind floating off into thought of him at the gym, out of breath, skin glistening with sweat. you shift in your seat, catching the attention of your boyfriend.

hajime softly squeezes the inside of your thigh, “you good baby?”

you catch his gaze for a brief second before he turns to pay attention to the road again. you reach down with your left hand and take his hand off of your thigh. you interlace your fingers with his and lean over the middle console to give his cheek a kiss. what was supposed to be one single kiss turned into multiple and hajime soon finds your lips by his ear.

“mhm, i’m very good,” you breathe.

he huffs out a small laugh, “easy, we’re almost home.”

resting your head on his shoulder, you sigh, “don’t know if i can wait that long.” he can hear the light pout in your voice.

your free hand begins to travel up his arm, slowly but surely creeping to caress his strong chest. your actions make hajime grip the steering wheel a bit tighter. an action that does not go unnoticed by you. you know exactly what you’re doing, which is why you don’t bother to stop your wandering hand from going lower and lower. you don’t stop until your fingers are playing with the bottom of his shirt.

hajime’s eyes flick down to you, his eyes narrowed into slits, “quit it.”

suppressing a smile, you reply, “quit what?”

“you know exactly what, brat. you drank tonight, you’re probably drunk,” his voice firm.

truthfully, the buzz you felt earlier had died down and you’re fully aware of everything you’re doing. you roll your eyes before leaning up and giving his jaw a peck, “c’mon haji, i didn’t drink that much. i feel fine, i promise.”

the car slows to a stop, a red light. perfect.

for the nth time that night, you catch his gaze. the red glow of the stop light illuminating his face perfectly. you don’t know if he knows how good he looks. leaning down, he presses his lips to yours. your lips continue to glide over one another’s and before it could get even heavier, hajime pulls away first. he would be a liar if he said that he didn’t want to take you in the backseat right here, right now. with the way you looked tonight and how handsy you were being? it’s like you were begging for him to fill you up the way you deserved. from the moment you stepped out of the bathroom, body clad in that little black dress, he’s had to hold himself back. and right now his restraint is wearing incredibly thin, all because of you and your lingering kisses and wandering hands.

hajime was so lost in thought, he didn’t even notice that you’ve not only taken off your seatbelt and let go of his hand but that your whole upper body is leaning over the console that divides you both. you bring one hand up to cup the side of his face while the other fists the shirt he has on. you pull him in for another kiss, this one being even hotter and heavier than the last. one of his hands wraps around your throat, giving a slight squeeze before loosening again. the other hand on one side of your face.

you whine into the kiss, pulling back just a bit, “daddy, please.”

and just like that, hajime’s restraint snaps. he can never say no to you, no matter how hard he tries. always willing to give you whatever you ask of him.

“what is it baby, hm?” he hums, his eyes finding yours.

“i want you, want you in my mouth.” you keen, so wide eyed and desperate to make him feel good. hajime can feel himself growing hard at the thought.

“yeah? you want me to stuff that pretty mouth full?”

you nod, “mhm.”

unsatisfied with your lack of response, his eyes narrow slightly, “you know better than that, use your words.”

“yes daddy, want you to stuff my mouth.”

pulling away from you completely, he leans back to relax in his seat. giving you access to take whatever you wanted. he sighs, “there we go. go ahead baby take it out.”

not wasting a moment, you hastily begin to fumble with the belt of his pants. upon seeing your impatience, hajime chuckles. “slow down, angel. i’m not goin’ anywhere.”

you feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment but that feeling fades quickly as soon as his cock is freed. hajime was always blessed in terms of his physique and that included his dick. he’s big and he knows it. the first time you had to take him, you cried from the stretch of it. after being together for so long, you grew to love it. whether it be in your pussy or your mouth, you craved to have him fill you.

his cock is hot and heavy in your hand. the precum beading at the tip. your hand looks so small wrapped around him and hajime groans at the sight. finally, you lean down to give the tip a small kitten lick. at the contact, he hisses, “don’t tease baby.”

as much as you wanted to tease him, your need to please him prompts you to wrap your lips around the tip. you feel hajime tangle his fingers in your hair, guiding you to move up and down his length. it doesn’t take long for him to start bucking his hips up into the warmth of your mouth. you can feel him at the back of your throat. the only noise in the car being the drone of the radio and the sound of hajime’s moans and groans, telling you that you’re his ‘good girl’ and that he’s gonna make sure to ‘fuck you so good that you cry’ when he gets you home. you can feel your panties stick to your pussy with your slick at the sound of his promises.

everything is so messy. hajime can feel the mix of his precum and your spit drip down his cock. he has half a mind to pull you off and spit in your mouth but the way your warm, wet mouth is wrapped around him is making him feel too good to stop you.

your jaw is aching and your makeup is probably smudged to hell but you don’t care. the only thing on your mind being that you want hajime’s cum down your throat.

with a tightening grip in your hair and a low groan from your boyfriend, you get exactly what you want. his cock pulses in your mouth as he cums, your mouth still suckling on the tip to milk him for everything he’s worth. it isn’t until he tugs your hair up with a little bit of force that you finally let up. hajime’s eyes follow you as you sit up and he reaches forward to grip your chin in his hand, “open.” and you comply, your tongue lolling out of your mouth. he smiles at the sight. you swallowed just like the good girl you are. he tugs your face closer to his so he can press his lip against your own in a chaste kiss.

he pulls back, gazing at your lips before bringing his eyes up to your own, “you’re always so good to me aren’t you?”

you smile, “always gonna be a good girl for you.” the corners of his lips quirk up at your reply.

he pulls away from you completely to tuck himself back inside his pants and get situated once again. you lean back into your seat and click your seatbelt into place. looking at the street in front of you, you let out a small giggle at the sight of the traffic light being green. the red and green light probably being flicked back and forth during the time you had your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth. the sound of your giggles makes hajime turn his head to look at you, “what’s so funny?”

you feel the car start to move once again. you shake your head, “nothing, just thank god we were the only ones at that intersection.”

you lean your head back to relax against the headrest and close your eyes. the music being the only thing that fills the silence before your hear your boyfriend’s voice again, “get your rest now ‘cause i’m fucking you when we get home, just like i said.”

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEARRR!! i was supposed to post this yesterday but here we are 🤡 also i was lowkey tipsy when i wrote this so i am SO sorry if there’s any errors. this was my first time writing smut so i apologize if it’s not great. i hope u all enjoy <33

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wonderwomanfantasy · 4 years ago

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tangled strings attached

ooooo Daddy is working through some shit in this one

Todoroki x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of suicidal thoughts, arguments, oh yeah, and ABO

word count: 1,000 (about)

summary: Todoroki has some fucking issues

Shoto appreciated the mountains more than he thought he would. It wasn’t quite like he was expecting. But loud with the sound of bugs and birds and wind. He was alone on the back porch looking out at the army of pine trees in front of him and the millions of stars above him.

It was a bad mission, some villain with a mind control quirk had gotten into his head and really messed with him. He’d hurt his friends so easily and so ruthlessly. He looked down at his hands. Shoto had always been one to shoot first and ask questions later, he thought he could trust his gut and that his instincts made him a good hero.

He couldn’t stop reliving those awful moments in his head where he had attacked the people he was supposed to take care of. Even if it wasn’t him in control, the attack was from his point of view. His friends had forgiven him, he couldn’t help but think they shouldn’t have.

The agency had sent him on mandatory rest in the mountains far away from the city to ‘clear his mind’ but all he could do was think. He was hurting people and the worst part was no one seemed that surprised about it, no one looked at him with disgust or horror like-. Like they had expected he’d turn out this way. Was he turning into his father?

“Shoto? What are you doing up?” you yawned rubbing your eyes and coming to his side. He felt himself melt. He couldn’t help himself. You were his sweet little omega and you had dropped everything to be with him. You didn’t want him to be out here all by himself. You sleepily moved to wrap your arms around him but he winced and settled for just being at his side.

“What’s up baby,” you prodded again.

“Nothing just thinking,” he said. You giggled the sound of your voice cutting through the silent night, it rubbed him the wrong way.

“We’re kinda out here to avoid thinking too much aren’t we?” you teased, “come on Sho lets go back to bed-”

“Just leave me alone will you?” he snapped, you reached for his hand but he knocked your wrist away, he hit you a little harder than he meant to knocking you to the wooden deck. You cried out more in shock than in pain and brought your hand up to your chest. Shoto looked at you in horror, then at the spot on the banister, he’d been gripping. There was an imprint in the shape of his hand.

He’d burned it, he’d burned you.

“I was just trying to help sho-” you groaned, flexing your fingers, it stung a little bit where he’d touched you but it hadn’t even left a mark. Before you could get back to your feet Shoto dropped to his knees before you. Tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry,” he sobbed tugging at his hair with his fists. It scared you to see your Alpha like that,

“Shoto stop it’s okay you didn’t mean to hurt me it’s fine,” you comforted him, or at least you tried he couldn’t hear you through his wracked song. You tried to stop him from pulling out his own hair but he was a lot stronger than you.

“I can’t I can’t- I can’t control myself I should just kill myself and make the world a better place-” you hit him. Harder than either of you knew you could. It was enough to stun him into silence.

“Shoto Todoroki don’t you ever say that again!” you shouted, now both of you were crying, sobbing wrecks.

“You do so much good! You’ve saved countless lives the world would be destroyed without you in it don’t you ever take your life for granted like that!” Shoto had never seen you so mad at him, he’d never been so mad at you

“How can you say that? All my powers do it hurt people it doesn’t matter if sometimes I hurt villains because I always end up hurting the people I love- How can you think that when I just hurt you?” he barked.

“You didn’t! I’m fine! Shoto you’re a good hero you’re a good Alpha, I love you!”

“So what you’re fine with me hurting people? Because you love me? Are you that selfish?” he snapped.

“YES!” you shrieked throwing yourself at him and clinging to his shoulders as you cried. His arms locked around you in an iron-clad grasp as he cried too. “Yes, Shoto- I don’t care if you can’t save everyone, I don’t care if sometimes your quirk is dangerous I just want you to stay alive and be with me,” you cried. It broke him to hear you say that. He couldn’t imagine how he would handle it if things were reversed if he had to sit and listen to you say you wanted to kill yourself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he said into your shoulder. He didn’t. He wanted to live and be a good hero and a good alpha.

“You better not have or I’m going to kick your ass,” you sniffled making him smile. Shoto lifted you into his arms carrying you back to bed. He must be doing something write to end up with someone as wonderful as you.

“I’ll just have to train a little harder, get better control over my quirk,” he said more to himself.

“Shoto, every quirk can be dangerous, or hurt people, I mean hell Froppy has hurt civilians on accident with her poison skin and she plays with kids on her off time, come on Sho you haven’t done anything wrong,” you pleaded with him.

“Can we not talk about this, I just want to go to bed for now,” he said, setting you down. You looked at him apprehensively.

“Fine, but we will have to talk about it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he agreed lying down beside you and pulling you into his arms. You fit so perfectly against him like you were made for him.

“Don’t you dare try to leave again,” you scolded. He smiled to himself as if he could leave you now.

“I won’t, I promise,”

#todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha todoroki #shoto todoroki #alpha todoroki shoto #alpha todoroki #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia abo #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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(You Want To) Make a Memory

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Word Count: 19,858 Chapters: 5 of 5 Complete Tags: 18+, NSFW, Amnesia, Anxiety attacks, Sex dreams, Dom/sub, Daddy kink, Praise kink, Unprotected sex, Vaginal fingering, Dirty talk, Choking, Biting, Hickies, Oral sex, Making love, Angst and feels, Shower sex, Size kink Summary: Sophie gets amnesia while working a case and forgets everything from the last two years: her friends, her job at the BAU, and her boyfriend, Aaron. Note: This is a reformatted, previously published work. :)

Link to AO3 or read Chapter 1 below!

The thing Sophie finds most complicated about her work at the BAU is that it’s their job to predict the unpredictable. Yes, they are all highly educated, knowledgeable profilers, with decades of experience between them, and human behavior typically follows patterns that are easily discernible if you have the right training. But even armed with all the information, all the statistics, all the data, there’s one thing they can never really know for certain: what a desperate person will do in the heat of the moment.

The unsub they are looking for is a white male, aged 25-35, who lives alone, has a steady daylight job, drives a red pickup truck, and has a problem with older female authority figures. Sophie could go on and on about this particular type of unsub—she could tell you where he shops, how he spends his evenings, his favorite sport/team/player, probably even what he’ll eat for dinner tonight—but there’s no way she can know how he’ll react to the FBI at his door, or the consequences his actions will have.

The team is canvassing the neighborhood they believe the unsub resides in, and she and Spencer were assigned the four hundred block; they each take a separate side of the street, and work their way down house by house trying to find someone who fits the profile, or knows someone who does.

“Any luck?” Sophie asks Spencer when they meet back up at the end of the the block. He grimaces, uncertain.

“There was one guy, but…” She gestures toward the SUV and they walk toward it together.

“What happened? Profile didn’t fit?”

“He was the right demographic, the vehicle fit, but he wasn’t disorganized. In fact, his home looked like it belonged in a catalog: photos on the walls, decorative items, nothing out of place.” She frowns a little, because it’s clear this guy has raised some red flags for her partner, and she trusts his intuition when it comes to stuff like this.

“And he lives alone?” she asks, confirming. That’s a pretty big part of the profile, considering what he does to the victims. He nods.

“Yes, no indication of a girlfriend or wife living there.” Sophie blows out a breath, leans against the side of the SUV.

“Okay, let’s brainstorm. Maybe... he hires a housekeeper.” Spencer shrugs.

“He didn’t seem like the type, but I guess it’s possible.”

“Alright, well… Okay, so our profile is of a man who kills older women because he has an issue with an older woman who is an authority figure in his life. We thought maybe his boss, but what if it’s his mother?” she asks, face lighting up a little. This theory makes more sense, actually. “What if she comes over while he’s at work, cleans the place up, redecorates, just takes complete control of his life, even his private space, and he loses it?” He nods enthusiastically.

“That is extremely more likely. Now that I think of it, all the photos were of him and an older woman who could be his mother.” Sophie pulls out her phone, gestures over her shoulder with her thumb.

“Let’s head back there; Hotch and JJ are just around the corner, I’ll let them know we might need backup. 412?”

“Yeah—hey, that’s the truck. That’s the truck,” he says with more urgency, pointing down the street at a rapidly approaching red pickup truck that matches the description of the unsub’s. Shit.

“Okay, get in the car, call Hotch,” she instructs, and they both barely make it in before the truck rear-ends the SUV on the driver's side; Sophie’s head hits off the steering wheel hard, and the car rocks, and she looks over at Spencer, a little disoriented, to make sure he’s okay. He’s holding his wrist, like maybe he hurt it bracing himself.

When she gets her bearings, she starts the car, throws it into reverse, ready to apply a little force and potentially keep him from striking again, but he backs up, speeds up, and cuts the wheel to go around them, striking her door and driving past. It’s then that another SUV cuts him off, and Hotch and JJ jump out, guns drawn; the unsub raises his hands, surrenders, and it’s over as quickly as it began.

“Sophie?” She can hear her name, but her head is swimming. She touches the cut above her temple, pulls back a hand covered in blood, but she knows head injuries bleed heavily, so she’s not worried. She’s more worried that she can’t tell where that voice is coming from. It’s like she’s in a fun house, sounds echoing from all sides. “Sophie, can you hear me?” She hums in response.

Kind hands are on her face, turning it toward the sun, and she scrunches her eyes at the brightness. She knows the hands are trying to help, but her head already hurts, and the light isn’t doing her any favors.

“Gotta… get up,” she mumbles, and the hands hold her waist, help her out of the car. Her left foot hurts when she puts her weight down on it, and she almost folds, but the hands hold her up, and she thinks she smiles.

“Reid—is she okay?” That voice is a voice that makes her want to answer immediately, even if her brain hasn’t quite caught up. She stumbles over her words.

“‘M okay. Just my… head.” A different pair of hands hold her up, and her brain is working enough to recognize that she loves the smell of the person attached to the hands. They are serious hands, and one of them sweeps gently over her face.

“Can you open your eyes for me, baby, please?” that good voice asks, and she wants to do anything the voice asks, but her eyes really hurt. She must say that out loud, because the voice says softly, “That’s alright, don’t strain yourself. Medics on the way. You’re going to be fine.”

“Tell him…” She is placed back in the car, can feel the softness of the seat against her back, and it’s nice. “Tell him that was mean… and not to do it again.” She feels lips on her face, turns toward them, sighs when they brush over hers. “Mmm. Or I’m going to… tell his mother.” When Sophie wakes up, she feels like she’s been repeatedly punched in the head, thrown down a flight of stairs, and then run over by a truck, so, naturally, she groans. She doesn’t dare open her eyes at first, can already see the fluorescents flickering through her eyelids, but her mouth is dry, and since she knows she must be in a hospital, she knows that there’s a little plastic pitcher of water somewhere within her reach.

Cautiously, she cracks one eye, finds the pitcher and a kind looking woman with fair skin and dark bangs staring back at her.

“You’re awake!” she whispers excitedly, and she leans forward for a hug, which Sophie does not return, because she doesn’t know the woman. The woman must feel the tension in Sophie’s body as she sits, arms at her sides, and waits for the hug to end, because she pulls back, concerned. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she begins, unsure of how to put this politely. Her voice is dry, rough, and the woman pours her a glass of water, which she takes gratefully. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t… Do I know you?” Her face falls, and she looks confused, and then abruptly worried.

“My name is Emily. Prentiss. Does that ring a bell?” Sophie thinks back, tries to navigate around the pounding in her temples, and ultimately shakes her head.

“No, I’m sorry. And I mean no disrespect—I meet a lot of people for work, so sometimes it’s hard to keep track.”

“Where do you work?”

“I work for the FBI. Intelligence.” Sophie takes in the woman’s outfit—black turtleneck, gray pants, boots, government issued handgun—and tilts her head curiously. “And you?”

“FBI. Behavioral Analysis Unit.” She pulls her bag closer on the seat beside her, pulls out her credentials, lets Sophie hold them. “Have you heard of it?”

“Sure, of course. I have an interview there next week, actually.” She hands back the badge with a smile. “Small world. Uh, do you think that what happened to me occurred because of a crime, or something? Is that why you’re here?"

Agent Prentiss gives her a sad smile, then stands, pulling out her cell phone. “You know, we’re really not sure what’s going on. Excuse me for one moment, I need to make a call. I’ll get your doctor while I’m out there.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Sophie calls as she heads out of the room, and she pours another glass of water.

When the agent returns with the doctor, she looks tenser, but the doctor just shoots her a kind smile. “Hello, Sophie. I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

“Thank you; I’m glad to be awake. How long have I been out?”

“About two days. You were in a car accident, do you remember that?” She’d catalogued her injuries while alone—laceration to the head, some pain and swelling there; aching wrist, sore but unbroken; bruised ankle, tender but okay to put pressure on—and they are consistent with a car accident, but she shakes her head.

“No, ma’am, I don’t remember.” The doctor frowns, an expression the agent behind her mirrors.

“What’s the last thing you do remember?”

“Um.” She closes her eyes, thinks hard for a moment, but it hurts her eyes. “I was driving home from work, I think? Or about to leave for the day. It’s kind of blurry.”

“That’s alright, don’t press too hard. It should come back to you in no time.” She steps around the bed to pull her chart off the wall, skims it briefly. “We’re going to have to run some scans; I’ll give you a moment with Agent Prentiss, and then I’ll send someone in to take you down to the lab, okay?”

“Sure. Thank you, doctor.” The woman smiles and walks out of the room, leaving her with the clearly unhappy agent. “Is everything okay, Agent Prentiss? You look about as bad as I feel.” The woman sighs, drops back down into her seat, folds her hands in her lap.

“The doctor believes you’re suffering from retrograde amnesia. You don’t remember some things you should remember. Quite a bit of time.” Her throat goes dry again, her heart beats rapidly in her chest.

“That’s not possible. I remember driving home from work… or, getting in the car to drive home from work, just the other day.” She shakes her head like she’s not sure what to say.

“I know, Sophie, but that’s not a recent memory. You don’t work at the Grant building anymore.”

“What do you mean? I’m the Intelligence liaison. I mean, I applied for the BAU job…” She’s wanted to work there since she found out about it, to put her degrees to good use; to get an interview is almost unheard of, everyone told her, but she made the cut, even bought a new suit to wear. It’s still hanging in her closet.

“And you got it,” Prentiss says gently, reaching forward to take her hand. “You and I have been working together at the BAU for almost two years.”

Sophie can’t be blamed, she doesn’t think, when she leans over, reaches for the wastebasket, and promptly vomits. “So I’m a profiler, and I’ve been one for two years. I work with you and we’re friends,” Sophie repeats as a bit of a recap. Prentiss nods.

“Yep. Those who profile serial killers together, stick together.” She says it with a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.

“Wow. Okay. I’m really sorry I don’t remember you.” She shrugs it off, and Sophie sighs. “Any other major life events I should know about? Did I get a cat, go vegan?”

“You don’t have time for a pet, and you like cheese too much,” Prentiss jokes, but that does sound like something she’d say. Her face gets serious after that, and she even looks nervous. It makes Sophie nervous, too. “You have a boyfriend.”

That raises her eyebrows.

“I have a boyfriend.” She smiles softly, nods.

“Yes. He’s… it’s funny, because he’s actually... our boss.” Sophie blanches. Talk about a close-knit group.

“I’m sleeping with my boss? That is not like me.” She barely sleeps with anyone, too busy focusing on her career and not that into one-night-stands, but her boss of all people? That’s just plain stupid.

“It’s really not like that, trust me. You two are in love.” Okay, she’s heard enough. Maybe Prentiss is a prankster, playing some wildly hilarious joke on her amnesiac pal.

“I’m in love. Did I actually say that?” She knows herself pretty well, flaws and all, and she’s been a vehement skeptic when it comes to love for… god, as long as she can remember—no pun intended. Prentiss nods, looks very serious.

“Yes, I’ve heard you say it many, many times. You two live together.”

“We live together? For how long?” This can’t be right; one of the things she values most is her privacy, her solitude. She lives a quiet, simple life, aside from being an FBI agent, and she likes it that way.

“About six months,” she answers carefully.

“We’ve lived together for six months? How long have we been dating?” Her voice sounds a little shrill even to her own ears. Prentiss is being very cool about it all, doesn’t so much as blink.

“It’s a year next week, actually. He’s been trying to come up with a surprise for your anniversary.” Sophie feels a little lightheaded.

“Anniversary. Fuck.” She squeezes her eyes shut, which hurts, opens them only so the pain will go away. She knows they’re teary, can’t help it, but she doesn’t want Prentiss to see her like this. She hates being vulnerable, always has. “I can’t remember two years of my life. I can’t remember my own boyfriend, my own job. My friends.”

“I can tell you about them, if you want,” she offers cautiously. “The doctor said it could help, but if you feel like it’s too much, let me know.”

Sophie nods carefully. She wants to know, she needs to know.

Prentiss—Emily—is so genuinely kind. She sits there for an hour, tells Sophie about work, and their team—their friends, because the group is very tight, gets together for dinner and drinks, and they all support each other’s non-bureau endeavors, and she feels so sad that she can’t remember them, can’t recall anything Emily is rattling off so easily it’s like she doesn’t even have to think about it.

She talks about some tough cases they’ve worked on, and how they always end with a cookout or a family dinner so they can remember why they do the hard things, why they keep fighting. She talks about people they’ve helped, saved, brought comfort to. She talks about flights home on the jet, how sometimes they sit in quiet, companionable silence and other times it’s all teasing and laughter and the good things in life.

Then she starts talking about Aaron—the boss/boyfriend—and Sophie does cry, a couple of tears rolling slowly down her cheeks. She’d never imagined in her life that she would be as loved as she is, if Emily’s stories are true, and the fact that she can’t remember any of it is like a knife to the gut. She wants to scream, to make someone pay for what she’s missing, but she knows none of that will bring her memory back, so she dials back the rage as quickly as it came—huh, that’s new.

Usually, her particular brand of anxiety attack would happen right about now, always worse when she’s afraid or angry. She anticipates tightening in her chest, shortness of breath, ringing in her ears that takes forever to go away, but it doesn’t come. She’s able to calm herself with a deep breath, and despite the fact that the rest of her life is a dumpster fire right now, this feels kind of good. It feels like progress, not a story told through someone else’s eyes, but a tangible feeling she can hold onto and think, I am a different version of Sophie than I was two years ago. A better version, maybe. But at least different. That, above everything else, makes it real.

A nurse walks in to take Sophie down for scans, and Emily just smiles, a bit sadly, and tells her she’ll be there waiting when she returns.

It’s a small comfort, something she holds onto as she’s taken down to the lab. When Sophie makes it back to her room, Emily is waiting there as promised, and she has a duffle bag sitting on the bed. “The doctor says you can go home while they wait for the scans,” she says with a smile; she probably thinks it will make Sophie happy, and it does, but the idea of going to a home she’s never been to is a little unsettling. Still, it’s nice to know there are people who care about her who will help her through it, that she’s not alone. That’s not something Sophie of two years ago would have been able to count on.

She smiles back, and Emily helps her change into clothes that somehow still smell like the hospital, but it feels better to be dressed and not stuck in the flimsy hospital gown that always makes you feel weaker and sicker, more injured than you really are.

She hears a voice from out in the hall, a voice that catches her attention immediately, and she walks over to the door, peeks her head out to see if she can find the man it belongs to.

She does, and he is almost too good-looking to be real. Somehow, she both instinctively knows that this man is Aaron, and can’t see how that could possibly be true.

“Emily. Is that Aaron?” she asks to confirm, pointing to the tall, serious-looking, frankly smoldering hot man having a conversation with her doctor at the end of the hall. She peeks her head out the door too, looks toward him with a smile.

“Yeah, that’s him. Do you remember him?” Her tone is guarded but hopeful, and Sophie sighs.

Remember him, no, not in the way she means, but every cell in her body feels alive and on fire just from catching a glimpse of his face, so she’s pretty sure Emily is right and she’s crazy in love with him. And his suit. Who looks that good in a suit?

Her boyfriend, apparently. Who she lives with. Who she’s been with for a year. Her mind is still a little blown.

“I don’t recall any memories of him,” she whispers, as if he can hear her from down the hall, “but, uh. I think my body remembers him.” Emily looks at her, eyebrow quirked, and she blushes. “Or, you know. Parts of it.”

Realization dawns, and Emily grins. “Okay yeah, that tracks. You two are kind of all over each other. It’s an intense vibe.” Sophie takes a moment to imagine that, what it would be like to be in a relationship with this man.

He looks intense, which can be good or bad, with the kind of mouth you could kiss forever, smile against. He’s taller than her by about a foot, which thrills her, and broad, as evidenced by the jacket stretched across his shoulders, which really thrills her. He’s older, maybe early forties, which she doesn’t feel particularly strongly about one way or another, with gorgeous dark hair and eyes, and when he shakes hands with the doctor, silver wrist watch gleaming under the fluorescent lights, her mouth practically waters.

“Earth to Sophie. You’ve got a little drool, there,” Emily teases, pointing to her own mouth, and Sophie groans.

“You didn’t prepare me. You didn't tell me he was hot.” Aaron turns away from the doctor, starts walking down the hall toward her room, and she ducks out of the doorframe, Emily following suit. She puts a hand to her forehead, not in physical pain, but mental pain for sure. “God, this is going to be so awkward. I’ve got a total lady boner for the guy I’m in love with that I can’t even remember.”

“It might be a little awkward at first, but you guys are sweet together. He’s going to be so caring and understanding, give you all the time you need.” She puts her hands on Sophie’s arms, grounding her. “We’re going to focus on trying to get your memories back, but the doctor said you shouldn’t stress.”

“That’s easy for her to say,” she mutters, crossing her arms, “she didn’t forget her big sexy boyfriend.” She hears a soft chuckle from behind her and instantly flushes, which makes Emily grin.

“Sophie, this is Aaron.” She physically turns her, and Aaron is smiling gently, which makes him look even better than when he was serious and expressionless. Her heart thrums in her chest.

“Hi. I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I want to.” She sticks out her hand for a shake, feels dumb instantly, but he takes it anyway, holds it for a moment. His hand is rough, so much bigger than hers, and part of her hopes he never lets go.

“That’s alright. Dr. Bracken is confident you’ll recover all of your memories in time. She’s given me some instruction on ways we can try to jog your memory, but no stress, like Emily said.”

“I guess we’re not considering the fact that losing two years of your life is a little stressful,” she counters, and he laughs again.

“You haven’t lost anything. Just misplaced them for a while.” He steps toward her, like he wants to touch her, comfort her maybe, but freezes, thinks better of it. She’s torn between wanting to get to know him better first and wanting to jump into his arms immediately, so she decides to let him set the pace. “So… Do you want to come home with me?” His voice is soft, hopeful, matching his eyes. “Garcia—our friend, another coworker of ours—has offered to put you up at her place if you’re not comfortable with that, so no worries either way. You have a place to go.”

Her stomach sinks a little at the thought of being anywhere but home, even though she has no idea where that is, and she looks back at Emily, who smiles encouragingly.

“I think I want to go home,” she decides after a moment, and she turns back to look at Aaron. “Is that okay with you?” He nods seriously.

“Yes, of course. I want you home with me. I just wanted you to know you had other options.” Emily slips past her, a hand on her elbow, and finishes gathering up her belongings while they talk. “The rest of the team is going to come over for a little bit, if you’re okay with that. The doctor said it would be a good idea, since you spend most of your time with them, but if at any point it gets overwhelming, let me know. No hard feelings if we send everyone home.”

“Okay,” she breathes, her head already swimming a bit just from talking to Aaron, and he does step forward, then, giving her her space but indicating that he wants to come closer, if she’ll let him.

“May I put this on you?” he murmurs, and opens his palm to display her rose necklace, the one she wears, must still wear, everyday. At least that hasn’t changed. “The EMTs gave it to me when they brought you in. I’ve been holding onto it for safekeeping.” She nods, turns around, and he slips it around her throat, clasps it, brushes a careful hand over her neck to move her hair out of the way. “That’s better,” he says, his breath ghosting over her skin, and she sighs, wants to sink back against the heat of his body; she just knows how comforting it would be, how safe she would feel. Instead, she turns and smiles softly.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” They hold eye contact for a moment, and then Emily appears at her side, making a face like she knows she’s interrupting something.

“Ready to get going?” she asks, handing Sophie’s duffle bag over to Aaron. “I’m going to stop at home and then I’ll head to your place.”

“Absolutely. Thank you, Emily,” Sophie says sincerely, stepping forward to pull her into a tight hug. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I hope I remember more about you soon.”

“I’m happy I could be here, and I know you will. Just give it some time.” She pats her on the back, and then leaves the room.

Aaron carries her bag and leads her out to the parking garage, toward a standard federal issued SUV, and he opens the door for her, closes it behind her with a gentle smile.

Time to go home.

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#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x original female character #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner/original female character #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader

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ktheist · 4 years ago

Text

heartbreaker of mine

muses. jungkook x reader

synopsis. ah, here we are again. the overtold, cliche as hell story about two best friends who might or might not be in love with each other. except you can’t - wouldn’t dare to dream about being with jungkook.

alternatively, wherein you fell for the one who could break your heart.

words. 7.5k

universe. university / slice of life

warnings. mentions of physical insecurities; appearance, commitment issues

you should have known that in the absence of two of your best friends, nothing ever goes right when you decide to hang out. it isn’t the fact that you’ve known each other since diapers and basically know anything and everything about the other, that at some point you feel like your friendship is stale and need new additions - that’s where park jimin and kim taehyung comes in; a year older but several younger at heart, you couldn’t have imagined going through uni life with someone but them - but it’s the fact that realization hits you at the end of your final year that makes you drift apart.

the fact of the matter is, you prefer the solitude of your room, the library of that one spot in the cafe that you’ve claimed as yours. and jeon jungkook prefers the blare of music, strobe lights and bodies grinding against him.

by your final year, as you receive a job offer at the company you interned in on your second year, taehyung is already working part time at the company he interned in, jimin thinking about that modeling offer he just got scouted for and jeon jungkook is getting daddies of the girls he’s having a thing with to get him to work at their office just so their daughter can see their favorite boy more - yours and jungkook’s friendship has dwindled down to mere silences as you wait for the other two to knock on the door and fill the place up with their endless bickering about whether dumplings are better than mochi.

“shouldn’t you like, give me advice?” are the words jungkook said to you while you type away on your laptop, trying to do some light reading for tomorrow’s class before your mac gets confiscated for ‘pooping the party’ as taehyung likes to call it.

and you know what he’s talking about without even having preambles of the topic make its way into the conversation.

yet you still take off your glasses and set it down in your lap and ask, “what could jeon jungkook possibly have not known and needed advice on?”

he scrunches his nose, not appreciating your sarcasm but humors it anyway, “you know,” he shrugs, as though shrunk into the sofa from either shyness or embarrassment - you don’t know, “on like, how to start being serious about life - and settling down.”

the silence that stretches is a stale one, filled with your blank stare and jungkook’s peering eyes - even at the age of 22, the stars still glimmer like they’ve been freshly plucked from the skies.

“you want me to help pick, out of the many job offers you got from your girlfriends’ rich parents, for you to do?” is your conclusion - though if you were 2 years younger and had a little bit more faith for the boy you basically called your twin, it would have been a good natured jest. but you’re older and jungkook isn’t exactly portraying characteristics of an upstanding citizen either.

“no,” his hair brushes against his brows as he shakes his head almost too eagerly - as though he saw that coming but still got upset and wanted to prove you wrong, “like how to start taking things seriously like settling down with someone and no, not with out of my many girlfriends - can we not call them that? it makes me sound like an ass.”

it takes you less than five seconds to digest his words, eyes drifting to the white screen of your mac for the sole reason you can’t bear to hold his intense gaze while you conjure up a response, “well for one, you are but there’s honestly nothing i can tell you that you don’t know already and there’s nothing i can possibly say to make you want to change - it has to come from you. or like, a professional that could help and if you think you need one, i’ll be with you all step-“

the brief scoff is what puts a rest to your racing thoughts while the smile on his lips put your heart at ease, “i’m not addicted to sex.”

“oh, okay.” is all you say, not seeing where the conversation is going as you watch the boy scratch the back of his ear, lips pulled into a pout - one way you know he’s trying to strum words into existence. and when he does, confused is an understatement to describe what your face is portraying.

“okay, i’m saying if and if you’re looking for a husband, no, scratch that, would you even introduce someone like me to your parents?” but that’s the thing, you’re not confused because you don’t know where this is going but you’re confused because you don’t pretend to be oblivious.

but you’re also not a master at the art of heart-to-hearts and the gargantuan elephant that it brings. so you settle with a, “uh, i don’t know, you already know my parents, don’t know how i can reverse that and reintroduce you-“

“that’s not the point,” he blinks, the sight almost endearing as he freezes in his spot for a split second in contemplation of how to approach the matter and explain it to you who seem like you’re way off, “the point is-“

“i get it.” you nod, arms crossing over your chest as jungkook’s wide eyes peers into you like a mixture of relief anticipation.

“you do?”

“you’re worried if your future partner will be insecure about the bodies you’ve seen before them,” there’s a knock on the door just as you’ve finished speaking.

as you get up to get up to answer it, knowing already who’s there from the obnoxious chatters - more like argument - you’re not sure if your brain is playing tricks on you or if jungkook’s shoulder line really falls as well as his face.

but the, “uh, yeah, i guess,” is what makes you push the image of dimmed stars and downturned pink lips to the back of your mind as you unlock the door, welcoming the two halfway-into-a-deep-quarreling men and their two bags of take-away roasted chicken, chips, mashed potatoes and whatever else they thought necessary to fill the game night with.

“thanks, shortcake,” taehyung smiles at you after you take a plastic bags off his and jimin’s hands and proceed to place it on the coffee table.

“tae, you’re literally taller than everyone,” throwing him a side glance, you shrug as you begin taking out the packed chicken wings and placing it in front of jungkook while taehyung helps with unpacking the add-ons from another bag, “calling me short isn’t exactly an insult.”

“i’m just saying we should demolish mint chocolate chips all at once,” jimin plops down on the couch adjacent to jungkook, “and no, we can’t let these savages go eating them - we need to educate-“

somewhere in the middle of jimin’s colonial-esque speech, you turn to the boy who’s never said a word since the two came in. not that those too needed an additional converse partner with how taehyung is advocating for leaving mint chocolate chip eaters alone and jimin staying with his stance that these people haven’t had a taste of all flavors in the world yet.

the way he seems to look at something past your shoulders tells you enough - he’s still deep in his thoughts about settling down, or changing or whatever. you don’t know why exactly he wants to change his heartbreaker ways but- “there’s nothing wrong with two adults having a - or multiple - consensual sexual relationship prior to finding their significant other. and if they have a problem with that then that’s something they need to work on, not you so no, i don’t think you should change anything unless you want to.”

it’s some days later that taehyung brings up the remnant of the conversation he overheard before the four of you began arguing about what movie to watch and ended up putting the fate of humanity in rock paper scissors. and so you tell him, without ever thinking of the one thing that spurred his ridiculous thought and the hesitance of pouring it onto you.

“don’t look at me, i’m not snitching.” jimin’s round, disbelieved eyes stares back at taehyung as though surprised the latter would ever think he’d do such a thing.

“okay but someone’s gotta tell her.” taehyung lowly mumbles, upper body turned to jimin, gracing you with his beautiful side profile - whoever gets to date him will forever be the lucky one.

“guys, i’m literally right here.” the sound of your voice warrants a turn of heads and a wide-eyed stare as though they’re seeing your ghost rather than your physical form that entered and picked a spot together with them.

it takes a moment for the elephant to settle somewhere in the corner and crush you with its invisible weight before taehyung turns to you, hand behind his mouth as he fake coughs into it. then, another moment for you to register taehyung’s words as you watch his mouth move and his gaze trained on you like a father teaching his daughter a life-lesson before he lets her out into the world. once his mouth stops moving and a second passes for you to take in the information, only two words leave your lips.

“you trippin’,” with a half-manic smile and brows knitted together, you look almost like you’re made for the asylum- but understandably, your admittance is overdue.

as your heart palpitate inside the confines of your rib cages and the scene from that night replays at the back of your eyes like a broken record - jungkook’s hesitant glance, the windows to his soul shutting tight with hesitance and the teeth that traps his lower lips as though his body is forbidding him to say whatever his heart and mind wanted - as much as it pains you to admit it, the signs were all there.

you just didn’t want to admit it.

that’s what pining over a best friend you’ve known for over a decade does.

the denial that comes after realizing you don’t want anyone else to touch jungkook when im nayoung stood on her tippy toes and pecked jungkook’s lips before running off with a flustered expression - you were both in elementary and jungkook was more into sleepovers with the abundance of plushies you had than hanging with ‘other kids’.

then comes the ugly head of self-loathing and guilt as you fixed park jihyo a smile as jungkook introduced you two. one, as his girlfriend and the other, his best friend.

both, in love with him.

it’s ugly and disgusting, jealousy that is. but you’re uglier for smiling and laughing with jihyo over the things you would with a best friend who’s a girl - there were things you couldn’t share with jungkook as a girl. but you’d let your eyes linger a second too on them as they shared a peck when he’d meet you too in front of the school gate after his extra class was over - you lost count of the times you wished you were her.

you carried the pathetic little mask of a smile to uni. by then, jungkook had broken up with jihyo. there was a lot of tears and consoling and empty words of assurance.

“hey, if you guys are meant to be, you’ll meet again someway somehow.” you’d fixed her an encouraging smile as your heart bloomed with hope for when you’ll get jungkook’s attention all to yourself once you start uni.

getting into the same one had been pure luck.

it didn’t bring you far though. jungkook started gaining attention for his friendly nature and bunny smile that attracted both males and females. it wasn’t long until he’s bringing you to parties where he’d keep you by his side because he knew you didn’t know most of these people. tried to get you involved in the conversation but there was nothing interesting about the dude who drank himself silly and woke up in front of an old lady’s door butt naked or about that girl who woke up a five minutes before class in a city an hour away from where her dorm is.

well, at least, none of them seemed like jungkook’s type. he never had a girlfriend throughout his years in uni though he had plenty of other experiences that makes you wonder what in the world he hasn’t tried yet.

being in a relationship, is probably the only thing he hasn’t done.

jungkook liked kind people. ones that didn’t point at a random person and say an offhanded comment and collectively laugh about it. someone that laughs and smiles a lot because and didn’t have a single bad bone in their body.

liked.

because you don’t know what kind of person jungkook likes now. but you never thought him asking a hypothetical question from what seems like another person's perspective about his lifestyle would be, as taehyung calls it-

“i’m telling you,” he slams a hand on the table, a loud pap! resonating in the air but he doesn’t seem bothered by the pain - if there is any - as his eyes bore into you, “that was jungkook shooting his shot!”

“i don’t know,” you take a sip from the metal straw of your matte black tumbler for the sake of doing something, “it doesn’t feel real but i can kind of see it?”

“take it for what it is, love,” the pull of his eyebrows together couldn’t have been more frustrating, “jungkook has every reason to have the fattest crush on you - i mean look at you, you’re funny, adorable and nicer than all his friends combined.”

jungkook has multiple friend groups he hangs out with. funny how you started out as duos and merged into a quadruplet and ended up being that friend group that jeon jungkook doesn’t really look like he fits in but he’s probably hanging out with you guys from time to time because you’d known each other the longest. or so word has it.

“that’s basically everyone who’s not his friends.” with an eye roll, you wrap your mouth around the straw. this time, for the sake of hiding the smile that threatens to bloom on your face as it is in your heart.

and that’s how you find yourself in more than one ‘don’t you dare’ moments. jimin has begun randomly pointing out something about your hair accessory to your clothes to your fucking strawberry printed socks.

to prove a point, he said.

“hey beautiful,” oh, and he’s resorted to calling you all the adjectives in the world - but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work in making jungkook’s face scrunch in displeasure for the briefest moment as he glances at jimin as though he’s an adjective away from beating the man into a bloody pulp, “nice shirt.”

despite knowing the comment is every bit staged - and probably doesn’t mean that your minnie and mickey mouse shirt is anywhere compliment-worthy, you still look down at the two mice, one kissing the other on the cheek.

the “uh, thanks,” couldn’t have been more dubious and skeptic.

and so begins jimin’s not-so-secret mission to bring jungkook’s attention to you.

“isn’t the stickers on ___’s mac cute, jungkook?”

jungkook skims at the grizzly, panda and ice bears scattered across your mac before breaking into a smug smirk, “of course they are, i bought them for ___.”

you can almost hear jimin and taehyung high-fiving on the row behind you just as the professor walks in.

while jungkook seems to oblivious to it all, eyes trained to the display on the on the front, you allow yourself to indulge in the heat that seeps through your pores and warms your heart.

it’s not like jungkook stopped going to parties.

but finals season is almost upon you and he’s been hanging out with you more. sitting next to you in class while jimin and taehyung dozes off at the back.

“they sleep in class just to spend hours on end studying at the library,” jungkook huffs, eyebrows knitting together adorably as he stresses over your two friends’ stamina for sitting in one place for six hours straight and only needing a bottle of water at their disposal, “i mean, why can’t they just focus in class so they don’t have to study a whole semester’s worth of syllabus in the last minute and drag us into it?”

the six hour mark ended and they’re out getting some snacks for you to secretly munch on until the library closes.

“i mean,” you begin, eyebrows jolting upwards at the more-than-obvious fact he’s supposed to already know, “you technically came here with your own free will, you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

another sigh hits the air as the boy slams his onto the book he has open in front of him, “yeah, but i need to study to pass and i needed you guys to push me,” he laments.

ever since then, there’d been far too many moments of where you’re stuck with jungkook to wait for the two non-time-abiding asses. at first, excuses like ‘sorry we’re late, we were getting mcdonald’s’ or some other poor fast food restaurants’ name that became the patsy, but they started dwindling to ‘oh hey, sorry, we didn’t notice the time’ and eventually a ‘hey, jimin’s got a meeting with a professor and he’s my ride so you guys go first’.

and before you know it, finals pass and you’re visiting your hometown while jungkook stuck around for a part-time job with taehyung whilst jimin drops off the face of the earth after having mentioned that he’s going on a family vacation at some private island with apparently the worst wifi connection ‘like ever.’

the two now-co-workers keep spamming the group chat with pictures of them in their uniforms, holding different drinks which they personally every time. when you’re staying over with your grandmother, it’s your turn to spam pictures of her great black cat who seem to only like sitting in her lap and glaring at you in every picture you take of the two watching tv together. almost as if he had a sixth sense when it comes to cameras.

“when are you coming back?” jungkook grumbles from the other end of line.

you’ve just got a shower and he’s just got home from a night shift. he’s probably haven’t even taken off his jacket yet when he proposed calling you like the sporadic times you both did throughout the break.

“i don’t know. i don’t feel like going back maybe even until the ceremony,” you confess, half-meaning it. the gardening, and saying hello’s to everyone you see while buying groceries because everyone knows everyone here, and the best-tasting cookies your grandma make, and waking up to her cat suffocating you in your sleep, isn’t so bad.

“i’m dying here,” he sighs, sounding more relaxed and probably lying on his bed now, “if i have to insist that i can’t ‘reheat’ coffee and can only make a new one and end up having to hide in the kitchen for five seconds to pretend like there’s a secret microwave only for coffees,” he says all in one breath before letting a suspenseful silence hang in the air and then finally revealing the next big thing he’ll do, “i’m seriously going to spit in their coffee while in the kitchen pretending to reheat it with an invisible microwave.”

the laughter that tumbles out of your mouth is probably ugly and you probably snorted a couple times but jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. or care as he keeps insisting ‘i’m really gonna do it’ whilst you end up laughing until your stomach hurts and tears begin to prick your eyes.

“is this the same regular that like, wants their coffee like super hot?” you finally manage to ask, traces of laughter still threatening to spill from your lips.

“yeah,” his sounds impressed, “how’d you know?”

“tae told me,” you make an incredulous face and shrug even though he can’t see, “you do realize you work at the same place, right?”

“yeah but i never see him talk about it in the group but i probably missed it-”

“oh no,” your hand goes up in a dismissive wave, “we talk on the phone and he told me about it.”

“you guys talk on the phone too?” there’s a strain in his voice, possibly out of surprise.

“yeah, like every day.” you say, tongue subconsciously lapping over your bottom lip.

“oh,” is all he says for the longest moment before chirping out the billion dollar question, “why aren’t we talking every day?”

“i don’t know,” your shoulder line rises, almost swallowing your neck as a war breaks out within yourself, “we did try at the beginning of break but you always had a party to go to so...”

“oh,” this ‘oh’ is a little bit dejected and perhaps hits a little different before he continues, “i don’t go to those anymore.”

this time, it’s your jaw that falls. your voice is small, almost as though cautiously teetering on tightrope as you ask, “...why not?”

“i just didn’t see the point of going anymore you know? once we graduate, i won’t even talk to these people anymore - but i wanna continue being friends with you guys.”

the ‘you guys’ meaning you, taehyung and jimin. the bros. the homies. it’s no secret that he probably sees you all as the same gender, not a guy nor a girl but just friends.

well. it’s not the first time jungkook’s friendzoned you.

“that’s great,” you can’t help but nod even though you know he can’t see you, “i wanna keep being friends with you too, jungkook.”

ever since then, you talk almost everyday. sometimes in three’s and when taehyung had a shift and jungkook got off his, it’d just be the two of you. and for the first time, in ages, it feels as though the ‘best’ in your friendship has somewhat reintroduced itself once more. jimin somewhat manages to get a connection somewhere along the way and the first thing he did was complain about the three digit number in a red bubble in the corner of the message app and then managing to get one picture of him in flowery trunks, and a baby monkey eating a banana perched on his shoulder with the beach in the background before disappearing for the rest of the month until two weeks before the graduation ceremony.

“so like, do you have anyone to pick you up?” jungkook asks from he other end of the line. he sounds more free since it’s the last day of his job.

“yeah,” you announce, attentiveness laced in your tone for your next words might be indicative enough, “my sister.”

“what.” he drags out the word in a disbelieving tone and it’s no secret why he’s doing that- “i haven’t seen you in ages! and you’re going to your sister’s? wait - this isn’t like a permanent thing right? we’ll get to hang out before the ceremony, right?”

it takes you a moment to register the series of questions he bombarded you with and before you know it, the silence has already turned your voice into a small and guilt-ridden, “um, yes and no?”

a groan.

“i haven’t seen seulgi in forever too and she kept nagging me to visit her during break but i never did so now she has like a whole week’s worth of itinerary planned out for us to do before the ceremony,” the excuse trickles out of your mouth hurriedly, “jungkook, i have to do this, or the next time we’ll meet it’s at my funeral and you’ll be talking to my dead carcass before they bury me.”

it takes a moment of anticipating silence before he grumbles out a “fine. but after that, you’re staying over at my place.”

“okay but i mean if we’re having stay over’s wouldn’t tae’s place be better since he has a whole ass apartment for himself?” you’re at that point where you’re discussing stay over arrangements before actually consulting the owner of the place.

“i guess,” his voice is a little lower and smaller but it revives at the mention of the new pizza place that just opened before you decided to invite the other two in the call to make plans to visit there.

when the day finally comes for you to don the royal blue robe and cap, you do so with barely enough grace and composure for someone who’s about to receive her blood sweat and tears on a stage all because you and your sister are - this must be karma for shading taehyung and jimin for being - a bunch of non-time-abiding asses.

the double doors are almost closed as you struggle with not tripping on your high heels whilst trying to keep your hair out of your face.

“where have you been?” you almost didn’t recognize the golden man who tapped you on your shoulder from behind.

“jimin! you made it!” is the first thing you say.

“rich coming from someone who barely got to her seat in time,” he gives you a once over and you’re not quite sure what he sees because your back which he’ll be looking most at is clad is oversized blue robe. but despite that, you reach out to give his hand a squeeze and he takes it with just as a tight, ‘we made it’ kind of squeeze before you turn to the chancellor that’s beginning his speech.

you’re not sure which row jungkook is at or if he even sees you and you read taehyung’s ‘i feel like a proud momma’ text because his major adds another year to his studies than you, jimin and jungkook.

the ceremony goes on without a hitch and you’d like to believe your picture is as perfect as your make up which your sister claims to be ‘out of this world!’ - only because it’s her that did it.

“so you guys talk everyday?” jimin pulls you into him, a smile gracing his beautifully tanned skin as he steals a glance at something behind your shoulders - possibly jungkook whom you saw was being swarmed by his friends to take pictures with.

“yeah, i guess,” you casually say with a shrug.

“it’s true, i was there,” taehyung comes up next to you, replacing jimin’s arms with his in a side hug.

“man, i really wish i witness it all,” jimin grumbles, “but the connection on that island was shitty.”

“i’m sure you connected in different ways,” the taller man adds, a strain in his voice which the shorter doesn’t seem to notice as he try to wave off the belatedly relayed fact that his family is a different kind of family.

like the kind that invites sex workers and other business colleagues alike to enjoy themselves for as long as they wanted, as long as the park family was there.

“okay but how long is he going to take?” jimin quizzes, eyebrows soaring whilst you and taehyung follow his gaze to the growing size of people a few feet away who clearly look like they’re here for a photoshoot than a simple graduation ceremony, “my parents kinda skipped work to see me go on stage and get a piece of paper they paid a lot for so i kinda want to get the family pic done before i go to my second family...”

time doesn’t seem to stop like they do in the movies. it happens all too fast, in fact - jimin’s voice fading into the background, the countdown of the person taking the picture of the group of graduates jungkook’s in starting from three, two, one! and a girl with the prettiest curls that seem to bounce as she turns around and stick her tongue into jungkook’s mouth.

it must have been your uncanny silence that draws the attention of the two boys and a ‘oh shit...’ from one of them - you’re not sure who even though taehyung and jimin has two distinctly sounding voice.

all you’re sure of is the involuntary movements of your feet as they carry you away from the scene. your eyes are dry but that’s probably only because your brain hasn’t registered what exactly happened though deep down, you’re perfectly aware of the fact that those daily calls, the spams of good mornings and randomly sending each other selfies were nothing more than exchanges between two people who were onlu ever connected through a childhood bond that got translated into best friendship just because there was no other name for knowing someone for so long even though you probably stopped being friends first year of college.

“___! wait!” someone calls for you and you wish it so badly to be jungkook but you know better than to expect for the impossible. a modern day fairy tale.

“hey, don’t cry. jungkook’s a fucking dick,” the tall stature that finally caught up to you and trapped you in his arms, whispers. gentle, understanding and pitiful.

it’s not just the comforting warmth, it’s also the hand that’s rubbing your back that you know is probably jimin’s that makes you break out into your first sob. whilst the day isn’t exactly free of tears, those who did shed them did it out of gratitude and a sort of ‘i did it’ kind of relief but not you.

today, your cheeks are marred by the excruciating pain of a heartbreak. you might as well tear your chest open, take out the beating organ and hand it over to jungkook so he could crush them with his own two hands.

maybe it’d hurt less.

somewhere amidst your fit, you choke on your laughter as you catch the two bickering.

“that’s not how you comfort a crying lady, taehyung, what the fuck?” jimin doesn’t hold back with his colorful words.

“what? what did i do?” the taller man sounds all the more confused but still pass you on to the shorter one like a gift basket when a hand pulls you into another pair of arms.

a hand patting your head as jimin murmurs, “there, there, you’re going to be okay, sweetie,” he hugs you just a tad bit tighter as though to say i promise, “you’re young, you’re beautiful and you just graduated with honors. in five years you won’t even remember your little crush for jungcockhead.”

you would have laughed if not for the shadow in your periphery stopping dead in its trek just a few feet away from you and close enough to hear every word jimin uttered in his attempt to placate your rising desire to flee the scene.

“what?” even a simple syllable is enough to tell you who the voice belongs to. perhaps it’s because you’ve heard it in real life and on the phone countless times and countless more during the span where he worked sporadic shifts and you were gardening and getting scratched by your grandmother’s cat that you tried relentlessly to befriend.

“nothing, jungkook.” you wish it was you who said it but it’s jimin who’s hugging you tighter like a mother comforting their heartbroken child, “why don’t you go back to your girlfriend and stick your face where it’s actually wanted?”

almost as though physically slapped in the face.

with a brick.

jungkook’s shoulder line jolts as he flinches, brows knitting together as you can almost see the rewind of the moment your heart gets split in two. she has the prettiest, softest tanned complexion, luscious curls and body that fits the definition of a glowed-up.

he takes one step forward but stops when you shrink into jimin’s arms, almost as though seeking protection. but it takes everything in you not to run to him and make up an excuse about feeling hot and stuffy and that being the reason you left, when the crestfallen expression mars his otherwise ever-smiling features.

“that wasn’t what you thought it was-” you could almost swear he chokes at the end of his words but the pause is too short to tell, “i left her as soon as i saw you running off.”

“oh my god, cut the bullshit! this isn’t the first time and this won’t be the last. don’t talk to ___, don’t even look at her, douchebag,” the rumble of jimin’s voice vibrates against you as he pokes taehyung in the rib, making the boy cry out in pain.

the assaulted man has half a mind to ask for further instructions when he turns to you and jimin but decides against it, squaring up his shoulders and placing a warning hand, “just leave, man. ___ clearly doesn’t wanna talk to you right now.”

“ever.” jimin half-shouts.

those deep brown eyes search for yours as though holding on the last strand of what you call best friendship - hoping, wishing that it isn’t true. but as soon as they find your puffy eyes, you throw your gaze to the ground, finding the crack in the asphalt in a better state than your heart.

you can only imagine jungkook’s face falling at your refusal to affirm the strength of years’ worth of friendship. because the fact of the matter is, you’re not so sure if you want to keep pretending to be oblivious as he wraps his arms around another person and kiss them like he means it.

“___,” the bed dips as you feel the weight of the blanket get yanked off you. seulgi’s sweet peaches perfume filling your senses, “get up, it’s been days since you had an actual meal.”

“i’m not hungry,” you grumble against the pillow just as your stomach starts making the most monstrous sound ever existed in history of mankind.

“yeah right,” she scoffs but her hand on your arm is warm and soothing, “come on, please eat something - i’m saying ‘please’ here and you know i never say ‘please’. people say ‘please’ to me.”

you can’t help but laugh at that. seulgi’s never truly begged anyone for anything in her entire life. she would have asked once and left you be until you were done moping around over jungkook getting with jihyo. it was after you did get over your first heartbreak, did she get you ice cream and you’d spent the night in her room with fairy lights and forts, watching the notebook.

“don’t let a boy hurt you like that again, ___, promise me.” she held up a pinky, and yours felt like a ton of weight just dropped over you.

in the end, you hooked your pink with hers and made a promise of sisterhood.

but she hadn’t been there when you needed your off days in college when rumors started spreading about jungkook and a different girl every week.

the wounds to your ever bleeding heart don’t heal. but you got used to picking yourself up and you got better at that with that one class you failed, that one presentation you blew, the humiliating mistake you made in front of your supervisor and every time after that. seulgi had her own ways to deal with problems and you had yours - or maybe patching yourself up after a fuck up was more of your forte.

who knows?

“what’s for dinner?”

“really?” at your inquiry, the face you thought would light up like a christmas tree - doesn’t. if anything, she bites her bottom lip just like you just caught her red-handed for doing something you probably won’t like.

“what?” you ask plainly, at this point, you won’t even be surprised if she said the sky is falling.

it’s not.

but her next words are far more foreboding than the end of the world, “look, jungkook came over like he always did everyday since that day and today i wanted him to stop coming for good so i told him if you at least have the energy to get some food, i’d let him see you,” her eyes glimmer with a sort of remorse that you can’t even hold her against.

“then can’t you tell him i still don’t wanna eat?” is what you say, completely unperturbed or rather not registering the fact that your best friend whom you’ve been in love with for as long as you can remember is in your sister’s living room because he probably heard about your hunger strike.

but the only problem is, he’s not in the living room-

“he’s right outside the room. i told him he can stand there and see for himself how bad he fucked you over so he’ll feel bad enough to leave you alone.” she says in a hurried whisper, eyes glancing to the half-agape door every second.

a spark lights up inside you, like smolders blown by wind and flares into flames, “seriously? you couldn’t talk to me first about it?”

her eyebrows furrow as her mouth opens and closes for a moment before she confesses, “...i didn’t think you’d say yes to lunch.”

“whatever just-” you tear your gaze away from your sister’s involuntary puppy eyes just so you wouldn’t end up clawing them out yourself, “...just go, seulgi.”

for the longest yet briefest moment, the only thing you can hear in the room is your steady breathing. the flame still burns but it doesn’t flare into a raging fireball. and you know full well it probably isn’t easy for jungkook to pass to through the door after having heard how you reacted when you found out he’s just outside.

when he does, he doesn’t even hide the way his doe eyes shine with something you can’t pinpoint as he takes you in. all of you. with your mused, oily hair and three day’s worth of hoodie and puffed eyes.

“hey,” he murmurs ever so softly, the bed dipping where seulgi sat.

you echo the same greeting back but with a hoarser voice compared to his velvet one.

“so, what do you want for dinner?” he begins, cautious eyes finding yours.

“i don’t want it anymore,” is all you say as you shrug casually.

“oh.” he sounds fragile. nothing at all like the self-assured jeon jungkook you’ve come to know.

silence fills the room like a big, blue elephant. seconds stretch on into minutes and you find yourself leaning against the headboard, drawing invisible patterns over the sheets while jungkook-

you don’t know what he’s doing. he could be fiddling with his fingers like how 10-year-old him would whenever you met at your favorite spot after a fight. but you’re both no where near 10 and if there’s any traces of the boy you once called your best friend, it’s probably only his appearance that’s never really changed.

either way, you don’t dare to even steal a glance his way.

“i like you too.”

the words hit the air like a drop of water that vaporized faster than what science dictates it too. you almost thought you were hearing things if not for the way he looks at you. as though waiting for something. anything.

“i...” you trail off before shaking your head, almost as though coming to your senses, “i can’t do this.”

jungkook laughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his head, “yeah, i understand - i’m sorry i- i just wanted to make sure you’re fine and then i got carried away- i should leave.”

but before he takes a step towards the door, you call for him, “jungkook, wait.”

“i’m leaving for japan in two days,” you finally let the cat out of the bag.

“what?” comes out a second later - you don’t dare to look up from your hands to see what kind of emotion he’s making.

but he at least deserves an explanation, “for the longest time, i feel fucked up because i get so jealous of the girls that dated you...” taking a deep breath, you continue, “but i know it’s because i think i’m not enough-”

“you are - you’re more than enough,” the interjection is what makes you look up involuntarily, if not to confirm it yourself - the knitted eyebrows and heartbroken gaze proves it and then the sinking realization settles in, “but you don’t believe me.”

you shake your head, a bitter smile on your lips, “i’m not enough for me and that’s something i have to work with.”

“by running away?” his voice rises to the ceiling, confusion and frustration pooling in his eyes.

“by finding myself,” you correct, “you know like how people go to a different country and come back a different person except i’m hoping to find that person.”

“in japan,” he sounds like he’s a word away from hooking you up with a specialist - not that you haven’t thought of one but-

you laugh and he looks at you like he’s stuck in the middle of a never ending maze, “my mom’s planning to visit my aunt in japan and since i’m officially unemployed i guess, i’m tagging along.”

“oh,” his shoulder line sags as he sighs in relief, “so like a vacation.”

it tenses back up when you say, “i might look for a job there.”

“you’re permanently moving to japan?” jungkook’s body seems to be here but his conscience seems to have flown out - probably to japan.

you want to laugh but it doesn’t seem like a proper setting for it. especially when you’re confessing to your crush that you like him but also subtly admitting that he’s partly the reason you’re leaving the life you know for a new one. and you might not even do it willingly.

“i might find a job with a branch company in korea - work there for a year and then transfer here,” you shrug, “i don’t know.”

“i-is this because-” he starts but you shake your head.

“yes and no?” you say, “none of this is your fault but i’m projecting my frustrations onto you and this isn’t healthy... i need- i need to go away for awhile and figure myself out.”

and that’s how jeon jungkook finally comes to the realization that nothing’s been the same. you haven’t been the best friend you prided yourself to be for a long time and that best friend completely disappeared in second year of college after he started spending nights at parties and only lunches with you. until eventually, you’re stuck in a habit - a cycle that you can’t break from until something dramatic or life changing happens.

and so it goes, he sees you off at the airport with taehyung and jimin. unsure of whether they were still friends after they’d deliberately stopped him from running after you on your graduation day, they were the first to approach him. they understood that it’d only be worse if he chased after you but they didn’t hate him - dislike him at times when - as they called it - he was so damn clueless, yes but they didn’t hate him. and that was a relief.

nothing major changed. he moved in with taehyung and jimin and even got a job at the same company as jimin. you went off radar but still kept in contact every once in awhile - it was like that time jimin went to that private island except you had all the reception you needed, just not the time to text as much as you used to.

job hunting was tough and he understood the competition. when you got a job, you were plagued with a newbie’s role, having to do overtimes to finish up work that was piling before they gave you that position.

then one year turned to two and two years turned to three. jungkook became a manager while jimin took up the position as a secretary in their rival company - it’s funny because everyone at the office would shit-talk him and they would make fun of those people as they drink into the night.

jungkook lost contact with most of his party friends - they were great with hooking him up with a potential client but besides that, he was basically living the workaholic life with his two apartment mates as his only source of social interaction outside of work.

from meetings to gatherings to meetings and then private dinners with clients. the cycle goes on until that one evening where arrives at an invites-only event.

“jungkook, come here,” the director gestures him over and because there’s a server blocking his view, he only notices the girl standing in front of his superior, when he’s finally by his side.

“...a hardworker - every project he’s ever handled hits the internet like a boom!” the director was saying.

“ah jungkook,” the man taps him on his shoulder but he can barely feel it when his eyes are trained on you, stunning in that deep toned dress and new hairstyle, “meet ___, you guys will be working on the twin tower project together.”

“so you’re back for good?” he asks when you’re finally alone, lingering at the balcony and away from your superior’s eyes.

“not quite - i still have to fly to japan every week,” you shrug casually.

“oh,” he nods.

“you look great by the way,” he adds a moment later, scuffing his foot against the floor.

you can’t help but giggle at how boyish he is, even at the age of 25, he still acts like a child, “thanks - you don’t look half bad yourself.”

he echoes a “thanks” as well before throwing his gaze over the magnificient view of the cityscape. artificial lights from the buildings appear like stagnant fireflies. it’s sad that they’re the reason you can’t see stars anymore.

but fate is too cruel.

because hoseok, your partner is calling you over - a couple of middle aged people standing next to him, smiling that mechanical smile that isn’t any different from your business smile.

“i gotta go,” you sigh but shoot him one last melancholy smile, “i’ll see you this monday?”

“yeah, see you this monday.” jungkook smiles a smile that says he’s not so sure where you stand. colleagues. ex-best friends. acquaintances?

with a wave goodbye, he watches as you strut to the couple, transforming into a woman so sure of every gesture, even a smile and a throw of your head back as you laugh. everything you do, every movement you make is mesmerizing.

and he knows he’s not the only one who thinks so as he watches your partner gaze at you with eyes that doesn’t seem to see anyone else but you. laughs at something you say as if he’s completely enchanted.

jungkook turns around, hand propped on the railing as he takes a sip of the wine he’s been holding. without realizing it, a smile slips onto his face, he makes a mental note to check your company’s dating policy.

most forbid office romances anyway.

note. i’ve had this in the draft for forever! and thought i was never gonna finish this but i somehow got a burst of inspiration yesterday and here we are! hope yall enjoyed!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook au #bts fluff #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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dontbipanicjonsa · 3 years ago

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The Unkiss

TW: discussion of sexual assault

The purpose of this post is to explore how and why the Unkiss came to be, and speculate (poorly) on what purpose it may serve in the future. Read under the cut (thanks @esther-dot )

So, I’m going to tell everyone right away that I’m not a very big fan of the pre-existing theories surrounding the Unkiss. Specifically, I tend to disagree with the “how”. This is partly because I think all the explanations offered are too Freudian (*shudder*) and partly because I’ve had a similar instance myself so I tend to project (sue me).

THE HOW

First, let’s look at the pre-existing theories:

The Unkiss is actually a sexual fantasy that Sansa has confused with the real events that happened (exactly what Freud would say. Creepy fuck.)

Sansa invented the Unkiss to romanticize an otherwise traumatic event so she could cope with it better.

Is there any other theory I’m missing? These are the ones I know.

I’m going to jump straight to the second theory. The issue (for me) in this theory is that it sort of assumes that Sansa herself would consider that kiss “romantic” or that it would somehow help her cope the BoB night.

He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened. - Sansa VII ACOK

This is the moment. She is expecting a kiss, but wanting it to be over. It’s very clear that the kiss would have been non-con. More importantly, it looks like Sansa herself would consider the kiss non-con.

Why on earth would Sansa invent a kiss she didn’t want in the first place to make coping with an already traumatic event easier?

He kissed me and threatened to kill me, and made me sing him a song. - Sansa II ASOS

This is the first time we are introduced to the Unkiss, and it shows that Sansa’s memory of that night is perfectly intact. The Unkiss is an addition. It isn’t replacing any other, more traumatic memory (like the threat to her life).

Now this is what I think happened:

Her emotions were running high that night, and her mind muddled up real events with the memory of that mounting (practically tangible) terror.

Yeah, it’s that simple. You know how you get really angry in a fight and then later you can’t recall the exact the words? Memory is unreliable. There are plenty of studies to show the varied effects trauma has on memory. There are plenty of studies to show how easily memory can distort. There doesn’t need to be a great, complex reason for Sansa to misremember a traumatic event. Also remember that Sansa may not be entirely sober for this encounter, since Cersei did make her chug that wine before.

Being stuck in a situation where you’re terrified and anticipating some sort of assault any second? Having a single moment where the emotions peak, where you’re sure the assault is going to happen right that moment? Misremembering if the assault did or didn’t happen later? Yup. Been there, done that. I still don’t remember what happened, and it’s been years. I sure as fuck wasn’t romanticizing shit, so it never occurred to me to think that Sansa might be. So when I heard the theories I went back to her chapters and honestly, I don’t think she is either. Not yet.

Then this happened:

She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak. - Alayne II AFFC

Now this is Sansa romanticizing the Unkiss. She romanticizes the kiss she remembers. That does not mean she invented the kiss to romanticize the BoB, it only means she remembers a non-con kiss from a traumatic night and chose to romanticize it to cope. See the difference?

The kiss isn’t a way for her to romanticize her trauma to cope, she romanticizes the kiss that was a result of her trauma- to cope.

I won’t be so sure of this theory though, because (no offense) but GRRM does seem like the kind of guy who would read Freud and incorporate his ideas in his story. There’s already a shit load of incest and let’s admit it, Sansa canonically has daddy issues. How far or in-depth did GRRM think about the “how” of the Unkiss? We don’t know.

THE WHY

Well, this one has been explained by GRRM himself:

You will see, in A STORM OF SWORDS and later volumes, that Sansa remembers the Hound kissing her the night he came to her bedroom... but if you look at the scene, he never does. That will eventually mean something, but just now it's a subtle touch, something most of the readers may not even pick up on. - GRRM

He also said:

File this one under "unreliable narrator" and feel free to ponder its meaning...- GRRM

So, it’s safe to say that the Unkiss is basically being used to establish that Sansa has an unreliable memory. Of course, other characters probably have unreliable memory too (for example: Arya misremembering the name of Joffrey’s sword) but this is still most likely about Sansa.

Sansa has always been considered an unreliable narrator by the GA anyway, since so much of her narration in the first book was at odds with the narration of Ned and Arya, who were both fan favourites at the time. This should probably indicate to the readers that the other characters are unreliable narrators as well, but it doesn’t. People carry on reading simply assuming that only Sansa’s POV is unreliable, or at least the most unreliable. So using Sansa’s POV to lay the groundwork for memory issues in someone else’s POV is...not gonna work.

This doesn’t necessarily prove that the pay-off of the Unkiss is going to come from Sansa’s POV only, but it makes it seem likely. So I’m going to restrict myself to looking at the possibilities of misremembering stuff from Sansa’s POV.

One more thing we need to look at before we start looking at future possibilities:

"It's not the same," Sansa said. "The Hound is Joffrey's sworn shield. Your butcher's boy attacked the prince." - Sansa III AGOT

On the surface, this looks like another memory edit. The situation is remarkably similar; it was a traumatic event for Sansa, she was not entirely sober when it happened, and now she is misremembering what happened. We know that Mycah did not attack Joffrey, Joffrey attacked Mycah. However, it’s not quite the same. For one, we don’t actually know if Sansa believes that, or if she’s just trying to be contrary to Arya.

Also-

"Sansa, come here." Ned had heard her version of the story the night Arya had vanished. He knew the truth. "Tell us what happened." - Eddard III AGOT

Sansa had told Ned what happened. But then she said-

She blinked at her sister, then at the young prince. "I don't know," she said tearfully, looking as though she wanted to bolt. "I don't remember. Everything happened so fast, I didn't see …"- Eddard III AGOT

So.......is she lying or did her memory actually get fuzzy afterwards? What exactly did she tell Ned? Considering that he’s the one who asks her to “testify”, I’d assume she told things as they really happened (as in Joffrey attacked Mycah). Did her memory of the events slowly fade...and then reverse (as in Mycah attacked Joffrey)? Or is she just taking the neutral stance here, and later the opposing stance (Joffrey’s side) in her fight with Arya? We don’t know.

PURPOSE IT MAY SERVE GOING FORWARD

First, let’s assume that the Trident accident really does count as a memory edit. This would mean that Sansa has edited her memory twice now, which makes it very likely that a third memory edit is coming. There are two directions this can go-

The third memory edit has already happened pre-canon (so technically it would be the first edit)

The third memory edit is going to happen sometime in the next two books.

Warning: this is where I get back on my Jonsa bullshit. Turn back now if you don’t wanna watch me make everything about Jonsa.

Pre-canon Jonsa crush

If the first option is true, and Sansa has already edited her memory once that we don’t yet know about, then a pre-canon crush/moment between her and Jon is...a pretty strong possibility.

I’ll admit, I’m very very skeptical of the pre-canon crush, simply because I think there isn’t enough evidence or foreshadowing for it. On the other hand, the groundwork has already been laid, if GRRM were to go in this direction..it would be believable. Shocking, but believable.

We have numerous mentions of kissing games in the godswoods. We have a pre-canon conversation between Sansa and Jon about How To Hit On Ladies. And much more. The possibility is there.

Sansa having a crush on Jon and being so traumatized she replaced Jon with Waymar Royce?? Sansa getting tipsy on watered down wine and giving Jon a blue rose-

There are other possibilities though, for example, a fight between Sansa and her father and/or Arya that she’s not remembering correctly. It would explain her daddy issues (even more) and work to create conflict between her and Arya (why though). But I don’t THINK there’s any evidence for that..? I don’t know I’m just throwing out ideas.

Moving on to the second option- a third memory edit to come

These memory edits are not likely to be nearly as innocent.

One possibility I’ve heard about is Sansa forgetting her identity and sinking into Alayne. No. Very Unlikely. Sansa’s Stark identity appears to be going strong even in the TWOW preview chapter.

Second possibility- Sansa memory edits Lysa’s death.

She was mad and dangerous. She murdered her own lord husband, and would have murdered me if Petyr had not come along to save me.- Alayne I AFFC

It’s...possible? But it looks like she does remember what Lysa said and how she died. She’s just suppressing/dismissing the parts that implicate Littlefinger, which is not the same as a memory edit, where the memory is changed somehow.

More possibilities- Littlefinger will do something and that will lead to a memory edit. She’ll flee from the Vale and run into Ramsay (I dearly hope not) and bam trauma -> memory edit. The possibilities are pretty much endless.

Now let’s assume that the incident on the Trident was not a memory edit. This means she’s only had one memory edit yet....in which case the pay-off is probably something kiss-related, or it is something she remembers, but which didn’t really happen. A pre-canon kiss, or some serious Freudian shit that I’ve been trying desperately to avoid, a Sansa-Sandor faceoff....yea I’m not actually good at speculation.

#jonsa meta #jonsa #unkiss

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kaimelia · 4 years ago

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enough for you (ch 6)

a/n: most people wanted link’s perspective, and here it is! I hope you enjoy this and thanks for reading! <3

-----------------

For a moment, he forgot why he was there.

It was so absurd to see Amelia standing on the opposite side of the door like that, not welcoming him in or throwing her arms around him after he came home from work.

"Dadda," Scout reached out, almost falling out of Amelia's arms before she shifted him. Link grinned at his son and took him from Amelia, immediately hugging him tightly and kissing his head.

"I have to get his car seat out from my car, but his bag is inside, and then you're all good to go." Amelia pushed past him without another word, unlocking her car and throwing open the back door. He watched as she attempted to remove the car seat with little success before she dropped her head into her hands.

"Amelia," he walked over, wanting to place a hand on her back to comfort her. "I can do it."

"It's the stupid security straps; they make it so safe for the kids that it's impossible to take these things out of the car," she muttered, and Link held out Scout for her to take while he began removing the car seat. While he did, Amelia began to pace around behind him. "Momma's gonna miss you, Scout, but I'll be right here," she whispered to the baby, holding his hands as they walked around. Link shook his head, ignoring how much he loved hearing her talk to their son. "Mommy loves you so much, Scout." Scout laughed happily, and Link turned around to see him slapping his hands against Amelia's cheeks.

"Alright, the car seat is all seat," Link announced, walking towards his car. "I'll just put it in mine, and then we're out of your hair."

"How long are you gonna keep him for?"

"I don't know; how long were you thinking?"

"When Owen and I were looking into co-parenting Leo, the lawyer said most people do three days, switch, two, switch, two, and then whoever had more that week has less the next," Amelia whispered, twirling a piece of Scout's hair around her finger. "We can start with that and see how it works. So, bring him back on Friday?"

"So, this is a long-term thing? We're planning on doing this for a while?" Her face dropped, and she looked down at Scout, refusing to meet Link's gaze again.

"Link, I don't know. I don't know what I want yet, and I need to be able to figure that out on my own before I'm ready to decide what happens with us," she mumbled so quietly that he almost didn't hear her. Link adjusted the last strap on the car seat and sighed. "I need time."

"I will see you on Friday," he muttered, taking Scout from her and placing him down in the car seat, turning his mouth up into a grin to please the boy.

"Let me grab his bag, wait here." He waited as she ran back into the house, coming out a minute later with a small duffel on her shoulder. "I probably overpacked for him, sorry. He's been really liking the stuffed elephant, so make sure he has that before bath time because otherwise-"

"I know our son, Amelia. He'll cry unless you give him the stuffed animal; he likes to be walked around when he's fussy, he hates being tickled; it's been five days." Her face sunk a bit, and she shoved the bag towards him. "Sorry." He took the bag from her and dropped it on the floor of the car, watching as Scout kicked happily in his car seat, his arms batting at the toy that hung above him.

"Call me if he needs anything. And if not, just let me know that he's doing okay, please," Amelia stated quickly, her voice lacking the emotion he always found in it. "Can I say goodbye to him?" Link nodded and stepped to the side, settling in the driver's seat as Amelia moved next to their son. "I love you, Scout," she whispered, smiling down at him. "I'm gonna miss you so so so much, but you'll be back here before you know it, okay? Be good for your Daddy." She kissed the baby's forehead, and Link pretended as if he wasn't watching her through his rearview mirror. Amelia closed the car door. "Alright. See you on Friday."

"See you on Friday," he repeated, putting the car in reverse. As he backed out of the driveway, he looked up to see Amelia waving hesitantly, her cardigan wrapped tightly around her and her other arm holding it in place. He returned the small wave.

-----------------

"Alright, Scout, we're here," Link cooed, hopping out of the car and unstrapping Scout from the car seat. He settled the boy on his hip and grabbed the bag before locking the car and walking up to the home he and Amelia shared.

The house was much emptier than the last time he had visited, right after he left the wedding to grab clothes and his essentials, but it was still their home.

The picture of them holding Scout when he was first born was hung on the wall, next to a picture of Meredith's kids meeting him for the first time. There was even a picture of them that Link had insisted on taking on their last date before Scout was born, even though Amelia complained that she felt gross and was convinced she looked it, too. He smiled at the memory.

"Momma," Scout said, reaching towards the picture. "Where Momma?"

"Momma's not here, bud; it's just you and me," Link sighed, dropping the bag onto the floor. He thought about how Amelia had said Scout was asking for him over the past few days and how now, Scout was asking for her. Scout missed both of them, he realized. He missed how they would both sing to him before bed, Amelia being in a whole key center off from the actual tune, and how they would greet him each morning with smiles on their faces.

They were a family, no matter what happened. He and Amelia had always done things together; they had always prioritized Scout and making sure that he always saw two smiling faces around him.

And that was something that his parents had never done.

In the months before their divorce, Link never saw them happy around each other. They never were able to push their own issues down to make sure that he was okay, and that wasn't what happened between him and Amelia.

They were a family. And suddenly, he realized that family could be saved.

#amelink #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #scout lincoln #my fics

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mittensmorgul · 4 years ago

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As Above, So Below

I’m still trying to pinpoint exactly why the focus on “heaven is fixed and actually a paradise now!” is just so deeply unsatisfying to me. And I think I need to preface this with a bit of backstory about me, because I think that gives the rest of this essay some relevant context.

I know this isn’t relevant to my main point here, but this is a metatextual and thematically identical example of the exact thing I’m gonna lay out, because context is always helpful. So please forgive this seemingly irrelevant detour, because I promise it will be relevant by the end.

(plus, would it really be an Essay By Mittens™ without at least one baffling tangent? no, it would not!)

Tangent time!

I think everyone that follows me knows how skeptical I was... or should I say how WARY I was of the way Eileen was returned to the narrative this season. We were warned in the PREVIOUS EPISODE how much Chuck was attempting to interfere in their lives. I was accused of some very nasty things, of hating the ship, or hating the character of Eileen, or of hating Sam and not wanting them to be happy. No amount of pointing at obvious warning signs in the text, no amount of yelling about Sam’s God Wound or the absolute klaxon warning that the wound had become “quiet” and his Chuck-O-Vision Nightmares had apparently stopped seemed to matter. I was declared “wrong” and told to shut up.

And then 15.09 happened, and basically everything I’d been wary of was shown to be what actually happened, but there were still unresolved issues. Eileen doubted her own feelings and walked away. She doubted what was actually real. And at the time, I said many times that I would be thrilled to see those issues resolved by the end of the season, and for her to truly know that what she’d felt growing between her and Sam was real. And by the end of the season, despite my personal horror at her previous situation (and having that personal horror compounded by the fandom literally gaslighting me and attempting to bully me into ignoring this basic actual plot detail of this specific growth process which... in the context of what my personal objection was to accepting her return at face value in the first place having been personal trauma associated with gaslighting and manipulation...) by the time 15.18 aired, I was 100% convinced that Sam and Eileen had fully chosen each other, and felt the traumatic pain Sam suffered during that text conversation with her during the snap. She NEEDED to come back, because she had been set up to be part of Sam’s Win. They were clearly each other’s future.

The show literally put in all the work to make even *me* feel this to be True and Right and Good. And then after that point we never even hear Eileen’s name again. We never were told that she was even returned at the end of 15.19. Sam, who had been so entirely devastated by her disappearance in the previous episode that he couldn’t even process it was apparently hit with an amnesia hammer and just... never even thought about her again through a long greyscale life with a blurry baby Dean factory vaguely in the background of a single scene of his life. I can’t credit or justify how after an entire year invested in making us all truly care about Sam and Eileen and the happiness they found in each other if only the cosmos would allow them to choose each other in the end would just... erase all of that in the series finale.

Which brings me to the second tangent, which is specifically about *me,* and how I feel about the cosmic order in the television show Supernatural. Because I feel a lot about it. Probably more than most people ever did. And this is also important to understanding the main underlying point I need to make here.

Something I’ve been most looking forward to, for YEARS, about Supernatural eventually ending someday was writing a book, or a thesis, or even just organizing and compiling all my observations into a cohesive narrative specifically about the cosmology of the Supernatural universe. I’ve been cobbling together my observations and realizations about the nature of heaven, hell, purgatory, the empty, the alternate universes we’ve seen, and yes, even the cosmic function of the mundane level of the story as told by events that transpired on Earth. So of everyone watching this dumb show for the last 15 years, I don’t actually know anyone who cared more that I did about finding a satisfactory resolution and transformation of every plane of existence-- the mortal world AND the “afterlife realms” we’ve experienced on this show. And in the wake of the finale, I feel cheated out of that. Because in the end, it wasn’t about the triumph of free will and a flip of the script, it was just more of the same.

And now that I have those two preliminaries out of the way, I’ll finally get to the point. :’D

(hooray, it didn’t even take 1k words to get there for once!)

The “main stage” of Supernatural has always been Earth. It’s always been “Humanity.” At the very start, we meet two men whose lives had always been dictated to them by higher powers. At first, that “higher power” was their father who raised them in his vengeance mission, who trained them to hunt the supernatural. It was the inciting incident of the entire series, after all, their realization that forces outside of their control had irrevocably altered the course of their lives. It had forever torn down what they’d trusted in family, in personal safety, and would become something they couldn’t outrun or fight back against for long before another wave of cosmic discord would settle over them once more.

We watched this story play out in ever increasing spheres of cosmic significance, until Gabriel laid it out on the table for them in the simplest possible terms (in 5.08).

GABRIEL: You do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse, I used to call Sunday dinner. That's why there's no stopping this, because this isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You'd think you'd be able to relate. SAM: What are you talking about? GABRIEL: You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other. DEAN: What the hell are you saying? GABRIEL: Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always. A long pause. SAM and DEAN look down, then at each other. DEAN: No. That's not gonna happen. GABRIEL: I'm sorry. But it is. GABRIEL sighs. GABRIEL: Guys. I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow...but this is real, and it's gonna end bloody for all of us. That's just how it's gotta be. ***

And isn’t that all even 1000x more painfully ironic that it all still happened even 10 years later? It was always going to end with them. And lol, “I wish this were a TV show” because if it was then it wouldn’t have to end bloody.

But this… was a Major Acknowledgement that the meta level of this story was consistent, and was telling us something important. It demonstrated that the Cosmic Structure Itself was the cause for Sam and Dean’s “destiny” in this story. But that’s not what the point of this story has ever been.

Nobody (including me, who is literally obsessed with this aspect of the story) has ever invested themselves in the narrative of Supernatural because they cared about the fate of the cosmic order over and above the fate of the characters who had committed to overthrowing it all, to “tearing up the pages” and writing their own destinies. I mean, we became invested because Sam, Dean, and Cas as characters took us by the hand and invited us to come along with them as they battled against fate for the good of EARTH and HUMANITY.

And certainly, Heaven being a horrific sort of eternal replay of the “highlights” of individual souls greatest hits, where free will didn’t apply as everyone was just boxed away into their individual holodecks to serve as some sort of giant Heaven Battery powering the furtherance of this narrative, this “cosmic order” that had become so powerful it dictated the events and manipulated the lives of people who still existed in the ostensible realm of free will and human life on Earth… that couldn’t stand in the end. But what the narrative (and people I’ve seen attempting to justify the finale as narratively sensible) seems to have forgotten was that all of that was Chuck’s construct to begin with. That without Chuck holding his kingdom in Heaven together, the walls of all those soul cubicles ceased to even be relevant.

After spending their entire lives to this point constantly fighting their way to the absolute pinnacle of the As Above, So Below narrative and pulling the plug on the original creator himself, Humanity should’ve triumphed. And I’d argue that it DID, through Jack restoring the missing essential “humanity” to the divine condition. And, silly me, I thought they’d achieved the promise of “paradise” heralded by Jack’s birth at last, and truly “flipped the entire script of the narrative.”

Ever since they thwarted the original apocalypse, I had hope that they would continue to achieve the same result right up the ladder. Metatron trying to fill the role of Chuck Junior hit his own narrative wall in TFW, while Dean’s battle with the Mark of Cain, and Cain telling him he was “living my life in reverse” and would succumb to destiny by killing his loved ones in the “reverse order” to Cain’s own path to downfall cemented this for me. Dean not only failed to kill any of his loved ones (you didn’t kill your own brother. why?), he SAVED them. He didn’t fulfil the prophecy in reverse, he subverted it. He UNMADE it.

Perhaps I was thinking on too grand a scale, that the ultimate inversion wouldn’t be “God is overthrown and replaced by more of the same,” but “God is overthrown and the entire order of the universe is restructured from the bottom up rather than the top down.

I’d hoped against hope that the conclusion of the narrative would be “As below, so above,” with the fundamental power of human love becoming the new foundation of the cosmic order. It never even occurred to me that “taking back the narrative to rewrite it for ourselves” was not the ultimate goal of Team Free Will, or the ultimate expression of their biggest win.

This whole “well heaven really needed to be rebuilt, there was still work to be done!” seems… irrelevant to me if they’d truly won free of the cosmic narrative. The entire structure of the universe-- including Heaven and Hell-- should’ve defaulted to the paradise state that Jack was literally born to bring to fruition. Wasn’t that the point of his entire role in the story, ultimately?

And if that wasn’t the case in the end, why did we never learn the fate of Hell? Was it just… irrelevant and unchanged after this? Or just… abandoned as a concept entirely? It’s just strange to me to put such a focus on heaven being the sole sphere of import in the end that it undercuts the essential humanity of the narrative for me.

The story itself had kept Heaven on a back burner for years, only occasionally mentioning that the structure of the place was falling further and further into disrepair with a dwindling force of angels struggling to keep the walls in place at all, that it seems like it could’ve been an afterthought at the end of the series rather than a focus so large it required the death of both main characters to make sure we all understood that Heaven Had Changed Now. Because TFW had never been fighting to make Heaven right. They’d been fighting to save the world itself, for humanity to all have a chance to live their lives as their own.

And we didn’t need to see that in the final hope they might get their own lives on Earth to explore. In the end, the fundamental narrative that Life On Earth was dictated by the cosmic structure of creation was never fully subverted. And for me, that’s the main reason I just… can’t accept the finale. It wasn’t a victory of free will and humanity, in the end it was just more of the same.

I appreciate the attempts to take the essential bones of the story we did get and apply a different polish to the surface of the skeleton, but to me it still feels like we’re looking at completely different beasts in the end. Like… to me this was as jarring a revelation as those drawing of modern animals reimagined as dinosaurs entirely based on their skeletons. Like, all along the narrative told me I was looking at a swan. They told me this skeleton they’re building out from is definitely a swan, without a doubt. I know what a swan looks like-- a graceful feather-covered bird with magnificent wings. I trusted that in the end it would be at least remotely swan-looking. And then the finale ended up looking like this

and I just don’t even know where everything went so wrong. Or maybe all along I just assumed they actually knew what a swan looked like, but weren’t sure they could actually pull it off and settled for whatever the heck this is instead. Either way, I’m actually kinda grateful to the finale for being so entirely disappointing on every level, because otherwise I probably would’ve tried to adopt the monstrosity of it anyway. And I’m really, really glad I don’t have to.

#spn 15.20 #spn cosmology #heaven hell purgatory and the empty #and this is why no amount of narrative defense of the finale is capable of making me feel any better about it #i admit i thought too big... but it was all right there in the narrative to see #oh well at least all i have to do to hold on to my grandest notion of the universe is throw out the finale :'D

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lilibetbombshell · 3 years ago

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!!!REVIEW!!!

TITLE: LIARS

SERIES: THE TRIAD, BOOK 2

AUTHOR: DANA ISALY

PUBLICATION DATE: NOVEMBER 26TH, 2021

RATING: 4 / 5 STARS

I didn’t write a review for “Scars” back when I first read it because I wasn’t in the business of writing book reviews back then, and I initially didn’t write a review for this book either when it first came out, because November of 2021 was a busy month for me last year. But, in preparation and celebration of the third book in this series, “Omens”, coming out tomorrow (May 6th, 2022), I re-visited the book and decided to sit down and write it a proper review.

“Scars” was one of the first mafia RH romance I read and instantly adored when I started reading RH romances. I loved Scarlett’s spunk, sass, and how much she reveled in her own sexuality. This wasn’t some shrinking violet of a mafia princess being held in her gilded cage until Daddy marries her off to some suitable other mafia family. No. Not Scar. Scar ran away from that life when she saw what her dad had intended for her and ran straight into the life like a character in a Billy Idol or David Bowie song: “You've torn your dress / your face is a mess / You can't get enough / but enough ain't the test”, disappearing into a world so far away from the one of a mafia princess she thought she’d made a clean escape, only to find out there were three young upstarts that had done a lot of diligent homework in tracking her down to hold her for ransom.

Only, by the end of “Scars”, they’ve only held her up, while she’s holding their hearts for ransom even as a then-unknown enemy takes her from them in the night.

That’s where “Liars” open up: with Scarlett in the hands of her apathetic and anonymous captors; and her three boys (Sebastian, Tristan, and Elliot) frantically searching everywhere for her while flipping their lids, blaming themselves, blaming one another, trying to figure out what went wrong, and trying to contemplate what the next steps will be once they get their Scar back. Elliot, in particular, has a whole bunch of issues he needs to work out with Scarlett without interference, since he still has issues with her and wants to clear the air once and for all with her before they move on.

What I love so much about Dana’s books is that she doesn’t waste page space on the mundane. This is the middle book in a reverse-harem mafia romance series. No one’s interested in any deep, philosophical conversations here. No one is in the mood for sweet, intimate conversations about love. There’s no time for it with the stakes at play. With every hour and every day that passes, there are movements happening and deals being made that affect everyone in the book in some way. These people will be lucky if they live to see the next week and they know it. Dana knows her characters and knows her plot. She knows not to insult her readers by insinuating they have time to spend the whole morning in bed laying around talking when the enemy could be taking action against them right then and there. No time to shoe shop when a hit could be going down across town.

Business first, Netflix and chill second.

The dialogue is trademark Dana: witty, quick, intelligent, never too smart for the average reader but never too dumb to come across as patronizing to smarter readers.

The cons? I saw both turns coming a mile away. I’ve started to take this as a ME problem, since I review books full-time. I’ve only had about three books in the last six months actually surprise me with their turns. I’m going to chalk it up to a hazard of the profession. The only other con I have is how quickly it took Scarlett to recover from her torture and imprisonment, but since the timeline on how long it took was fuzzy, I can’t find it in myself to be overly picky.

Make sure you pick up Scars, and then read this book, before you pick up book three in The Triad series, “Omens”, out tomorrow, May 6th, 2022. You won’t regret spending time with Scar and the boys!

#book review #book reviewer #book blog #book blogger #dana isaly #liars #the triad series #mafia romance #reverse harem #mafia reverse harem #rh romance

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jenonctcity · 5 years ago

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My Ending - Part 3

Differences – Na Jaemin

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au, Streetracer!Au

Disclaimer: This is going to be a very dark themed story, please do not read if you are triggered easily by the mentioned subjects in the warnings.

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide Attempts, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Health Issues (Depression and Anxiety), Character Death, Mentions of Drug Use/Overdose, Mentions of Drug Addiction Effecting Baby After Birth.

Word Count: 8k

---

Silence ensued over the table. The gently murmuring of the people around, the latest pop song playing softly over the speaker, and the noises of cutlery hitting plates was the only thing that filled the silence. Jaemin dipped his fry into ketchup, popping it into his mouth and wiping his hand on the napkin crumpled up on the table. Jeno watched him, his eyes slightly narrowed as he sipped at his milkshake through the straw with his left hand, his newborn baby son occupying his entire right arm, peacefully asleep and blissfully unaware of the tension in the air.

“Just say what you want to say Jeno.” Jaemin rolled his eyes, fed up of the silent treatment that Jeno had been giving him ever since he’d met up with him at the diner. Everything had been going perfectly fine. Until Jaemin dropped the bomb on him that he’d proposed to you. His best friend had gone dead silent and hadn’t spoken to him for a whole five minutes, apart from thanking the waitress when their food turned up. Jeno placed his milkshake cup on the table, clearing his throat and pursing his lips.

“I just think you should have told me.” Jeno finally confessed, picking up his fork and stabbing an onion ring with it, shoving it into his mouth and turning his attention to his plate. “You know since I’m your best friend!”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Jaemin laughed, rolling his eyes at Jeno’s pettiness. Jeno raised his eyebrows at Jaemin and gave him a stare.

“It is, you had me thinking you were just going to ask her to move in! I didn’t think you were going to ask her to marry you!” Minjun squirmed a little as Jeno’s voice got louder, the baby blue pacifier in his mouth moving as he started to suck on it in his sleep. “Sorry lil guy.” Jeno gently bounced his arm to soothe the baby, Jaemin’s eyes automatically sticking to the baby he so desperately wanted to hold.

“I hadn’t spoken to you since I’d made the decision! I bought the ring the same day I proposed, and you were in the hospital watching your son pop out!” Jeno’s silence proved to Jaemin that he was right, leading him to smirk at him. Jeno sighed and smiled softly.

“Don’t you think you’re rushing into things?” Jaemin quirked an eyebrow up at Jeno, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

“You literally had a baby with someone you’d been with less than a year.” Jeno pursed his lips in realisation, biting his bottom lip and shoving a fry in his mouth. “Exactly. Now give me that baby!” Jaemin reached his hands out across the table, making grabby hands at Minjun. Minjun had graced the world with his presence exactly a week ago, which is the same amount of time Jaemin had had the honour of calling you his fiancée. Of course you’d said yes! Why wouldn’t you? Jaemin was the man you’d been dreaming about since you had known was a relationship was! And since that moment, neither of you had been able to stop smiling, a giddy feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach whenever either of you thought about each other or your future wedding.

“No. Do her parents know yet?” Jeno picked up his milkshake and took another long sip.

“Why?” Jaemin pouted, his eyebrows falling as he let his arms fall. “And yeah, they know. They actually took it really well, but only because they like me a lot.” He smiled smugly, knowing that Jeno’s girlfriend’s parents weren’t huge fans of the man who knocked up their daughter after such a short amount of time. Jeno rolled his eyes in respond, definitely making his mind up about passing over Minjun now. Jaemin had no chance of holding his baby. “Give me the baby!”

“No, he’s mine, make your own. How about grandma?” Jaemin frowned, rolling his eyes and folding his arms over his chest in defeat.

“She’s ecstatic, she loves (Y/N) and you know she’s been bugging me about getting married since I was about fourteen.” He chuckled as he thought about his grandma’s nagging, fond memories flashing through his head whenever he thinks about her. “Seriously, pass me that baby over before I wrestle him out of your arms. Uncle Nana needs a cuddle.” Jeno rolled his eyes, but very gently passed over his pride and joy to the buzzing man across the table. Jaemin almost squealed in delight, cradling the tiny premature baby in his arms like he was holding the thinnest, most breakable piece of glass in the world. “You must be so proud Jen…” He spoke quietly, too engrossed in staring at Minjun’s delicate features to see that Jeno had quickly picked up his burger that had been untouched, biting into it fast.

“Mhm.” Jeno hummed, already used to the delay of eating his food since becoming a father even though it had only been a week. “He’s precious.” He mumbled in-between chews, swallowing the lukewarm food and smiling at the sight of his best friend holding his son, even though Jaemin had already held him plenty of times considering they live together.

“I can’t wait to play match maker with him and Jihyo.” Jaemin’s words had Jeno choking on his burger, his hand coming over his mouth to stop the food from flying across the table. He hastily swallowed and shook his head.

“Nuh uh, not happening. I’d technically be related to Renjun and that’s not something I enjoy the thought of.” Jaemin laughed at Jeno’s revelation, whispering to Minjun just loud enough so Jeno could hear.

“Ignore daddy, don’t worry, Uncle Jaemin will make it happen.” He leaned in and placed a tender kiss to Minjun’s head, hoping that in a few years’ time the roles would be reversed, and it would be Jeno holding his son whilst Minjun quizzed them about the new arrival. Jaemin was excited for the future, because for him, it was only just beginning.

---

The date had been set. Your wedding was to take place exactly a year after the night you got engaged, because you and Jaemin decided that was super romantic, and completely in character for the both of you. The past three months of engagement hadn’t been anything like you’d imagined it to be. And you were starting to get stressed, because the day was slowly creeping up on your, but you hadn’t booked or arranged anything for the big day. Which was slowly driving you up the wall. It seemed to you that every time you tried to pin Jaemin down to sort things out, he was too busy being loved up and trying to get into your panties, or he simply was too busy working on his car or racing. You could feel it building up inside of you, ready to blow like a ticking time bomb. You just didn’t expect it to explode so soon.

You’d had what you could only describe as a shit day. You had to deal with a lady at work who was somewhat difficult, and she refused to eat her dinner, which caused you stress and you knew she hadn’t eaten her lunch either and as her carer it was your responsibility to make sure she was fed. Ultimately though, if she refused to eat, you couldn’t force her. So you’d left her with everything she needed and got in your car with a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You were at the end of your workday, and as you started your car you remembered that you’d promised Jeno’s and Renjun’s girlfriend that the three of you would prepare dinner for the entire family tonight. Every Friday night you all spent the evening together with the kids, and tonight you’d thought it would be good for you to prepare the food instead of ordering takeaway. You regretted that big time now. All you wanted to do was go home, put on your comfiest clothes, and curl up in Jaemin’s arms whilst you looked at stupidly priced flower arrangements. Things got worse after you ran to the supermarket to pick up ice cream for dessert, only to go back to your car to find a big dent in the rear passenger side that hadn’t been there before. You drove home with a horrible feeling in your stomach that only got worse as you let yourself into yours and Jaemin’s shared bedroom.

You had never seen Jaemin doing drugs before, you didn’t even know that he was still doing drugs, as he’d told you that he hadn’t. So your stomach dropped through the floor and sprang back up to lodge itself in your throat when you walked into the bedroom and witnessed Jaemin and Haechan snorting coke off of your bedside table. Jaemin looked up as soon as he heard the door click open, his mouth popping open when he saw you stood there staring at him with your mouth popped open and eyes focused on him. You didn’t know what to think, but you knew exactly how you felt, and it wasn’t going to bring your mood up at all.

“I’m going to go.” Haechan was the first to break the awkward silence. He rose from the bed, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek as he shuffled past you to get out of the room, shutting the door behind him to save everyone in the house from hearing everything you were going to say to each other.

“Baby…” Jaemin also rose to his feet, sniffing quickly and rubbing the residue of cocaine off his nose as he went to approach you.

“Don’t baby me.” You shook your head, your voice hard and stern, letting him know that he was about to be in trouble. He visibly gulped, his mouth falling open as he tried to form words, but he didn’t really know what to say to you. “You…uh fuck you Jaemin.” You muttered, spinning around to open the door when he hurried to stop you from leaving. You’d managed to open the door only by an inch when Jaemin went slamming into it with his whole body, inevitably preventing your exit.

“Please don’t go, I promise I’ll stop if you don’t like me doing it!” Something you’d come to figure out about Jaemin was that he was a huge people pleaser, especially when it came to you. You found that if he had done the slightest thing to cause your mood to sour, then he was immediately trying to fix your mood and make you happy with him again. Usually it worked, but this was the cherry on top to your crappy day, and you didn’t even want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the day.

“It isn’t that you’re doing the drugs Jaemin! I made it quite clear to you that I wasn’t bothered by what you do, as long as you don’t get your stupid ass thrown in jail then I’m fine with it, it’s your life. But you know what I also made fucking clear, I made it clear that I wanted you to tell me about thing like this. Don’t go behind my back and do shit like this Jaemin.” You tried to pull on the door handle but Jaemin wasn’t shifting his weight from the spot on the door.

“You aren’t my mother.” He mumbled, having the audacity to roll his eyes when you were looking at him. “Listen-”

“No, you listen to me.” You frowned up at him, holding back the tears that pooled in your eyes from your anger, sadness, and from how fed up of the day you were. His eyes widened at your strict tone, realisation hitting him that he probably should have given you attitude. “You did this behind my back Jaemin, that’s called betrayal, because I trusted you when you told me you would tell me everything. What if you accidentally overdosed and I didn’t even know you were doing drugs?! What the fuck would I tell the doctors?!” He slowly moved his weight off of the door, his eyes glued onto yours despite the shame inside of him making his eyes want to drift away. He knew if he broke eye contact with you when you were in a mood like this and feeling so passionately about something, then he was be in even bigger trouble. “Also, I’m fucking stressed out and everything is going wrong today.” That’s when the flood barrier broke and you let out a sob, the tears running down your cheeks and pooling on your jawline. Jaemin gulped, reaching out to hold your hand in his but you snatched it away from him, not finished with your rant yet and knowing if you caved in and let him touch you, then you’d just let it all go. “Work was shit and someone dented my car.” You whined, feeling some of the pressure coming off of your chest as you vented. “And then I come home to this shit!”

“Someone dented your car?!” Of course that was Jaemin decided to point out. “Who?”

“I don’t know! They didn’t leave any details and it happened when I was in the supermarket.”

“I’ll buy you a new car beautiful.” He stepped closer to you, but again, you stepped back, just shaking your head at him to tell him no.

“That isn’t going to excuse you doing drugs and lying to me about it. You told me that you didn’t them anymore!” You eyed the door handle again when Jaemin was glancing down at his feet and rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness.

“I only did it a few times…”

“I don’t care! It still happened!!!” You whimpered, almost stomping your foot on the floor from how frustrated you were getting at the fact he didn’t seem to understand why you were so upset with him.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” He cleared his throat, moving to sit on the bed and putting his head in his hands, anxiety swimming around in his stomach from the thought that he could lose you from this, that’s why he had tried to make excuses and to change the subject by offering to buy you a car.

“It better not.”

“Why are you stressed baby girl? You should have told me that you were feeling stressed.” He had noticed that over the past few days you were far more agitated than you usually were, but he hadn’t brought it up in fears that he was just imagining it and it would cause you to be offended.

“Because we’re getting married in nine months Jaemin and we haven’t booked fuck all of the wedding, and every time I try to get you to help me arrange it, you brush it off or tell me that your busy! I can’t plan a wedding on my own, it’s your wedding just as much as its mine.” You wiped at your eyes with the palms of your hands, sniffing back your emotion and letting out a deep breath to try and steady your breathing. This was your first fight with Jaemin, and it left a putrid feeling inside of you that felt like it was rotting you from the inside out.

“I’ll make more of an effort okay, I’m sorry.” He gulped, his face feeling hot and his heart beating faster in his chest as a side effect of the drug he took.

“You have time to snort cocaine but you haven’t got time to plan your o-”

“I said I’m fucking sorry okay?!” He knew the over confidence was the cocaine talking and he immediately winced, standing up and rushing to you to embrace you as his apology. But you were already holding a hand out to stop him.

“I’m going to stay at my parents house tonight. Don’t contact me until tomorrow.” You stormed out quickly, ignoring everyone as they watched you leave, not really caring what they thought of you in that moment, it’s something you’d think about at a later date.

“Baby no!” Jaemin was hot on your heels, grabbing his own car keys on the way out but that’s when Renjun and Jeno stopped him, both of them pinning him to the wall.

“You’re not driving under the influence.” Jeno pried the keys out of his hand with a lot of difficulty, since Jaemin had seemed to be determined to follow you.

“I have to stop her!” Jaemin fought against them, his body thrashing as he tried to push them off of him.

“Jaemin no!” Haechan stood up quickly, helping Jeno and Renjun in restraining the frantic man.

“If she leaves she won’t come back!” Jaemin shouted, his eyes filling with tears as the he fell to the floor in a heap as a last attempt to move past them. Haechan was quick though, and he tackled him to the floor. “They never come back when they leave!” He started to sob as panic set in, his limbs shaking as his thoughts poisoned his mind.

“She will be back.” Jeno used a soft tone once he realised that his best friend was panicking because he was relating you leaving him, to his mother leaving him. “Shh, calm down.” He pocketed the keys and rubbed a hand against his head.

“Why is Uncle Nana crying?” Jiyeon’s soft voice made Jeno and Renjun’s head snap to the doorframe where she was stood, a worried expression on her face with her teddy bear in her arms.

“Jiyeon you’re supposed to be in the living room with everyone else.” Renjun sighed, standing up fast and rushing to his daughter. Haechan and Jeno let go of Jaemin once they saw he’d calmed down, Jeno giving him a hand to stand up. Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, sniffing back his tears and walking back towards his bedroom. Once he reached it through, his fist clenched, and before he could stop himself, he had already punched a dent in the wood. Renjun was still stood within eyesight with Jiyeon looked over his shoulder at the incident. Her little face crinkled up as she broke out into a cry, clinging onto her daddy tighter from fright.

“Uncle Nana scary!” She cried into her fathers’ shoulder. Renjun tensed up, not quite believing that Jaemin would do that in front of a two-year-old.

“It’s okay honey, let’s go see Jihyo.” He stroked a hand up and down her little back to comfort her as she cried, knowing if he didn’t calm himself by using his daughters then he was going to go ape shit at Jaemin. Jeno groaned, leaning his head against the wall in defeat, unsure of what to do.

You spent the night at your parent’s house, just telling them that you felt rough and needed a break from the hectic apartment for one night. They were more than happy to have their baby back home for a night, even if you went straight to bed and slept straight through to the morning. You felt like something was missing, and you knew it was Jaemin. It was Saturday and you had no other obligations to do other than to go home and make up with your boyfriend. You had breakfast with your parents and siblings, trying to enjoy the fussing of your mother and the dad jokes your dad kept coming out with. But it was hard when all you could think about was Jaemin. You worried about him, mostly because of his depression and you knew that this was probably harder on him, even if he was the cause of the argument, you still felt like you should worry about him more than yourself.

Arriving back at the apartment was bittersweet. You considered it as your home now and you were super comfortable living there with the people Jaemin considered as family, so to be back home made you feel good, even if you had only been away for one night. But it left a bitterness on your tongue because you knew the mood would be sour when you entered. You were wrong, Renjun had taken his girlfriend and kids back over to the opposite apartment that they spent most of their time in, Haechan was still in bed asleep, and Jeno and his girlfriend were cuddled up on the sofa watching the morning news with Minjun asleep in her arms. However, Jaemin was laying on his bed with his eyes shut when you entered, his eyes immediately opening and landing on you. His eyes were clearly bloodshot from his lack of sleep, and he sat up fast.

“Don’t say anything,” You spoke softly, approaching him quickly and taking his face in your hands. “Just listen. I’m sorry I was super harsh on your yesterday, I just wanted to express how I felt and I realise now that it was a bit too much…have you slept?” You stroked your thumbs against his hot cheeks, letting out a sigh when he shook his head.

“No…I’m sorry baby, can we make up now?” He wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his forehead against your stomach and letting out a tired sigh and a yawn.

“Yeah, we can.” You couldn’t stay mad at him for too long, and you felt a lot better today after having vented the night prior, your mood a lot calmer and leading you to make a rational conclusion about it all. The two of you moved so that you were cuddling on the bed, him being the big spoon and snuggling his head into the crook of your neck from behind.

“I promise to make more effort for the wedding.” He whispered, his hot breath washing over your skin and sending a chill down your spine. You let out a very gentle laugh and closed your eyes, feeling a wave of sleepiness attack your eyes, probably from the warmth of Jaemin and from how tired he looked himself.

“It’s so stressful to plan a wedding, I wish we could just elope next week.” You joked, letting out another soft laugh and a yawn. Jaemin laughed with you, but then cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

“Let’s do it.”

“What? Elope?” You opened your eyes and twisted your head around to glance at him. He bit his bottom lip as his eyes racked over your face, taking in all of your features that he loved each of so much. He still couldn’t believe how someone as perfect as you walked straight into his life and hadn’t walked back out again as soon as you got to know him.

“Yeah, maybe not next week though…how about on our one-year anniversary? It’s in like two months, right?”

“Three months…okay!”

“And we can just buy the outfits a-wait…did you say okay?” He felt a wide smile pulling at the corners of his lips, one you quickly mirrored.

“I did, let’s do it.”

---

Neither of you had told a soul. It was a Sunday, and you both hoped into Jaemin’s car, both of your wedding outfits stowed away into the boot so that no one could see them as you drove to the local chapel. It was your anniversary today too, so you felt like you were on cloud nine with Jaemin, both of you so in love with each other that it almost physically hurt. Of course people would judge you for getting married after only being together for a year. But fuck them! It’s none of their business, and neither of you cared for anyone else’s opinions. You both got changed in separate rooms, and you felt the air almost get knocked out of your chest when you saw Jaemin in his suit. It reminded you of the first time you laid eyes on him when he was wearing the suit from his mother’s funeral, and you remembered just how much your mouth nearly watered at the sight of him. Jaemin felt his eyes sting and a lump forming in his throat at the sight of you in your white wedding gown. It was a simple silk gown that hugged your figure and pooled around your white high heels.

You felt tears pool in your eyes as you said your vowels, Jaemin’s hands completely still compared to your shaky ones as you slid the ring up his finger. You don’t think you could ever forget the bright smile and twinkle in his eye as you watched him recite his own vowels, his bottom lip between his teeth as the minister declared you husband and wife. The ring felt foreign on your finger, but it was a welcome feeling, and you soon forgot about it as Jaemin’s lips pressed to yours, his hands sitting on your hips so tenderly you could hardly feel them. His lips were warm, and ignited the fire in your heart once more, like the kiss was dousing your love in a fuel that would make it explode. When you drew back, you both gazed into each other’s eyes and let out soft giggles.

“Mrs Na.” He whispered, laying another kiss to the corner of your mouth before swiping your hand up in his own. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my husband.” You giggled again, completely giddy about your new titles for each other.

“I guess we should go and tell everyone, who shall we visit first?” He guided you back down the aisle, his heart beating so fast he genuinely thought it was going to pop out of his chest.

“My parents and then your grandma?” He nodded quickly at your suggestion. The both of you decided to keep your suit and gown on, wanting it to up the shock factor to all of your unsuspecting family and friends. All of the legal stuff and fees had been taken care of before, so you were just free to go on about the rest of your day as newlyweds. Even sitting in Jaemin’s car had you feeling different, and you almost bounced on the seat from your excitement.

When you arrived at your parent’s house, you both ducked down as you walked up the garden path, just in case one of your eager eyed siblings spotted you on your way to the door. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door, despite the key that you owned. Your mother was the one who answered the door, and she gave you a furrowed eyebrowed, head pulled back in confusion look.

“It’s not Halloween you crazy kids! What’s this all about?” She moved out of the way to let you both in. You both shuffled in, removing your shoes and giggling at her expression. Jaemin gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek.

“We have something to tell you, but we should gather everyone together.” You couldn’t help the big grin stuck on your face, and you wondered if it would ever disappear.

“It’s just me and your father home, the kids are all out, we could wait for them to come home?”

“How long will they be?” You titled your head, going through to the living room with your mum and Jaemin. Your dad was sitting on the sofa watching the football, but at the sight of you in a wedding dress and veil his eyes almost burst out of his skull. You sniggered and pulled Jaemin beside you.

“A few hours.”

“It’s okay, we’ll just tell you two.” You looked up at Jaemin, biting your bottom lip as your mum sat beside your dad.

“What’s going on?” He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide back his sarcastic remarks about your outfits, wanting to make a halloween joke so badly.

“We got married!” You held your hand out to your parents to show off your ring, trying not to feel dejected when neither of them smiled, instead both of their mouths dropping open in shock and their eyebrows turning into frowns.

“Without telling us?! The wedding isn’t supposed to be for months!” Your dad sat up straighter, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t part of his oldest daughter’s wedding.

“Aren’t you happy for us?” Your sudden sad face and pout had your parents immediately back tracking, both of them jumping up to hug you.

“We are princess, we’re just a bit upset that we weren’t there is all.” Your mother kissed your forehead while your dad shook Jaemin’s hand.

“We’re going to have another wedding reception that’s family only, so you’ll be apart of that.” Jaemin smiled, hoping that would give your parents a peace of mind. It seemed to work, but you knew they were still not 100% happy with your decision. You stayed with them for a little while, before hopping back into the car to go to Jaemin’s grandmas.

“Do you think she’ll take the news better than mum and dad?” You asked Jaemin, turning your head to him as he stopped at a red light of an intersection. He smiled, placing a hand on your knee and stroking his thumb against the silky fabric of your dress.

“I think she might be a bit upset too, but she’ll just be happy that I finally got a ring on your finger before you could change your mind.” He chuckled, leaning across the seat and laying a kiss on your parted lips.

“I considered it.” You winked at him to tell him you were joking. He gasped in mock offense, shaking his head and biting the inside of his mouth.

“You can’t escape me now (Y/N), you’re in this for the long ride now.” He winked back at your and chuckled, driving when the light turned green.

“I wouldn’t want to leave you any-” You never got to finish that sentence.

---

“Jaemin?” Jeno’s voice was foggy, like his head was being held underneath a pillow being smothered to death. He opened his eyes fully, immediately wincing at the harsh lights above him. His throat felt like a serrated knife had been lodged inside of it, every time he gulped to try and quench the dryness, it stung and left him almost gasping for water. Despite that, he didn’t feel dehydrated, and he couldn’t feel much more of his body. Everything felt numb to a certain extent, but it felt good when he flexed his toes out, the stiffness loosening his muscles out. “Jaemin it’s me, can you hear me buddy?” It was then he remembered that Jeno had been talking to him, his voice now clearer as Jaemin’s head defogged.

“Yeah.” He whispered, his eyes baring into Jeno’s. “You look like shit.” He managed to whisper out when he noticed Jeno’s appearance. Jeno had bloodshot eyes and big dark circles underneath them, like he hadn’t slept in centuries. His hair was a mess, and his lips looked sore as if he’d been constantly biting them. Jeno gave him a very small smile, letting out a very soft sigh.

“I’ll be back in a moment.” He rose from his seat, exiting the room only to reappear a few moments later. “The doctor is now coming; do you remember what happened?” He asked with a very soft tone, his hands shaking slightly as they ran through his already messed up hair. Jaemin let out a sigh, narrowing his eyes as he tried to rack his brain, until it suddenly hit him.

“(Y/N)!!! Where is she?! W-we got hit by something didn’t we? I-I don’t remember anything except everything going black a-and…Jeno is she okay?!” He felt panic settle in, and he tried to sit up, but was restricted from doing so when he placed his hand on the mattress to push himself up, only to be hit by a pain he’d never felt before. It was excruciating, the pressure he put on it making the pain flare up, since there was only so much pain that the medication he had been given could take away.

“Jaemin stay still!” Jeno pushed Jaemin back into his pillows very gently, more guiding him by his shoulders than pushing.

“Jaemin, hello I’m doctor Park.” A middle-aged man with grey hair entered the room with a calming smile on his face. “Please don’t move too much, you’ll do yourself more harm than good.” He approached the bed and looked into Jaemin’s eyes, he took a deep breath and began to explain to Jaemin. “You’re been unconscious for two days, you haven’t sustained any brain damage, and you’re expected to make a full recovery, however, you have broken multiple ribs, and your left wrist, and we’ve given you stitches on multiple lacerations over your body which will likely scar.”

“I don’t care about me! Tell me is my wife okay?!” Jaemin wanted to scream, but he knew that wouldn’t do any good. He just needed to see you and make sure that you were okay.

“Mr Na, you were involved in a very severe car collision. The car hit your car at such a speed that your car flipped multiple times,” Jaemin’s eyes flicked over to Jeno as the doctor spoke, and he saw a tear roll down his cheek. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked back up at the doctor, waiting for the explanation. He felt his heart in his chest, it was pounding so hard that it felt like it was rising through his throat, a bad feeling burning in his stomach. “The other driver of the car died on impact, and you had to be cut free of your car. Your wife also had to be cut from the car. She was brought back here, and we took her straight into surgery after discovering that she had a bleed on the brain,” Jaemin felt like the pillow was being smothered over his head against when he heard those words. His heart now pounding in his head like a deafening drum that was causing his entire body to start quivering. “We did everything that we could, but she sustained too much brain damage. Mr Na, your wife is what we call brain dead.” Jaemin was took in shock to react, just staring up at the doctor as he listened to the pounding in his head. “We had two senior doctors perform tests to come to this conclusion, and she failed all of the tests. Her heart is still beating, but only because she’s on a ventilator that is keeping her breathing. We can’t take her off of the ventilator until we have permission from her next of kin, which as her husband, would be you.” Jeno put his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he silently sobbed for you both. He had already heard this news, but it still hurt just as much hearing it again, especially as it was being told to Jaemin.

“Is she in pain?” Jaemin just wanted to know if you could feel any pain, surely if your heart was still beating and you were still breathing then you were alive, and there was hope that you could recover? “Will she ever recover?” He was still in shock, and he had no idea where the power to ask questions were coming from.

“She can’t feel anything, I can assure you that she didn’t feel any pain from the moment that this accident happened. And no, she wont ever recover. Brain death is permanent and cannot be reversed.” The doctor had a soothing voice, it was no wonder he was the one who was sent into Jaemin’s room to deliver the news.

“Okay.” Jaemin gulped, nodding his head as the news hadn’t yet sunk in. “Can I see her?”

“If you feel well enough, then yes, you may.” Doctor Park and Jeno both helped Jaemin into a wheelchair, and Jeno couldn’t help but take Jaemin’s good hand into his hand as the doctor pushed the wheelchair through the halls. He stopped in front of a closed door and slowly opened it, pushing Jaemin inside and placing him beside your bed. “I’ll leave you alone. If you have any questions, I’ll be outside.” He exited the room and shut the door gently behind him. Jaemin stared at your cut up face, pushing himself out of the wheelchair to stand up so he could get a better look at you.

“Oh.” It was looking at the big pipe going down into your mouth that made it sink in. He broke down in hard sobs when he realised the only thing keeping your heart beating for him was that tube. “Oh baby.” He reached his hand out stroked your cheek tenderly, wanting nothing more than for you to lean into his touch like you normally would, maybe even press a soft kiss to the palm of his hand. “Wake up…” He whispered, heavy tears rolling down his cheeks as he let out choked sobs that made his throat burn. “Please (Y/N)! You can’t leave me like this!” He had never felt so desperate before in his entire life. But deep down he knew that no matter how much he begged you, your delicate body couldn’t recover from this. There was a big bandage around your hair, and he could hardly recognise you from how bruise and cut up your face was. He felt his chest burn, like an invisible python was wrapping its way around him and constricting his breathing.

“Jaemin!” Jeno rushed forward and caught Jaemin just as he was about to collapse, holding his brother tight as he cried with him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry Jaemin.” He gently rocked them back and forth, mourning with Jaemin for his loss. He didn’t give a fuck that he hadn’t been told about the wedding, all he wanted was for you to be alive, so that he could see you by Jaemin’s side as his lifelong partner.

“She can’t be gone!” Jaemin shook his head, gasping for air between the sobs that fell from his lips. “I love her!” He didn’t realise what he was saying, he just wanted you to open your eyes and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Jeno held Jaemin until he calmed down, which took half an hour. He set him back in his wheelchair and wiped his cheeks for him with a tissue as he just stared at your lifeless body. Silence ensued for a long time as Jaemin tried to process everything. But he didn’t think he could ever fully process what had happened. It was ironic really. You’d fallen in love with each other so fast, only to be ripped away from each other just as fast. It had been a year of mostly ups, with hardly any downs, and Jaemin felt like he wasn’t being selfish when he very brokenly said. “A year wasn’t long enough.”

---

Jaemin didn’t want visitors. But he couldn’t find it in his heart to turn your parents away when they showed up at the door to his hospital room the day after he’d woken up. They were the closest thing he had to you now, and he knew that even though you weren’t around anymore, he would still keep them close to him for the rest of his life. The meeting was filled with tears and hugs, and they didn’t fail to mention to Jaemin that you had told them plenty of times how deeply in love with him you were. It was hard for Jaemin to hear, but he also desperately needed to hear it. They told him that your siblings had already said their goodbyes to you. They were still young and didn’t need the anguish of waiting around for Jaemin to give the doctors the go ahead to turn off your ventilators. However they both wanted to wait to be there by Jaemin’s side when it was finally time. Jaemin felt like the world was playing some kind of sick joke on him. He hadn’t even been married to you for a whole day when you were ripped away from him, and now he had to be the person that decided whether your heart stopped beating or not. He felt like it was a double-edged sword. He got to marry you, and you felt so much love on the day you stopped living that Jaemin was so happy that the marriage had happened. But on the other hand, the decision now rested on him instead of on your parents.

When the time finally came for your machines to be turned off, Jaemin made everyone say their goodbyes before him. Jeno had surprised Jaemin by bringing his grandma to the hospital for support. She was absolutely crushed, especially after she had found out that you were on the way to her house when you’d gotten into the accident. But Jaemin had just held her tight like he used to after school when he was upset about being bullied. The room emptied out when it was Jaemin’s turn, and he slowly approached the bedside he’d spent so much time by the past week that he’d been in hospital, unable to tell the doctors that it was okay to let your heart stop, he felt numb. His eyes watered like they had so much over the past week, and he took your warm hand in his own, enjoying your warmth for one last time.

“Hey baby, I don’t really know what to say to you,” He took a deep breath and lowered his forehead to rest against your own, his knuckles turning white from how hard they were clutching your hand. “I guess I should start from the beginning, although its not like you weren’t there for it all, we spent nearly every day together when we were falling in love didn’t we? Those were the best day of my life, and forever will be.” He closed his eyes as tears slowly trickled down his cheeks. “I’ve never been loved by someone in the way you loved me, and I miss you so much. You accepted me for who I was, and I hope you know how grateful I am that you came into my life. I promised to protect you from everything, and I couldn’t, and I’m so sorry for promising you something I couldn’t keep. My heart will always belong to you, and I’m so sorry that we couldn’t do all of the things that we had planned to do. I love you so much, and I will until my heart stops beating, I just wish we had more time. You’re my world, and I love you (Y/N).” He took another deep breath and looked at the doctor through the window, giving him a nod that signified he was ready to let you go. He saw everybody looking through the window, their cheeks all wet as they watched Jaemin say goodbye to the love of his life. Jaemin couldn’t help but feel envious as he watched Jeno’s girlfriend and Renjun’s girlfriend snuggled into their chests for comfort, soft sobs falling from them as they mourned the loss of their friend. Haechan looked like a broken man. Jaemin knew that you and Haechan got along really well, and you had even spent some time with him after he went through some struggles with his girlfriend.

They all had to stay outside and watch through the window, as only family could enter the room. Your parents came into the room, but Jaemin’s grandma stayed with Haechan and held his hand. Jaemin gently placed a kiss to the back of your hand, watching as Doctor Park got prepared, gently pulling the medical tape off of your face that was helping to keep the ventilator in your mouth. Your parents cried in each other’s as Doctor Park very slowly and gently removed your breathing tube. Jaemin leaned down, leaning his forehead against your own once more as your chest stopped rising and falling, one long breath leaving your lungs as you stopped breathing. The heart monitor sped up, until it flatlined, quickly being switched off by Doctor Park to avoid anymore emotional distress for anyone. Jaemin sobbed silently, stroking your hair with his fingers on his bad arm and holding your hand tightly with his good one, as whispered to you one last time.

“I love you.”

---

Time was starting to go by as a blur for Jaemin. It had been two weeks, but today was the day you were finally laid to rest. It had been hard for him to hear everyone keep telling him that they were sorry for his loss, and he couldn’t remember much of what happened, his brain so foggy and disorientated that Jaemin didn’t even know what day of the week it was. He hadn’t bothered changing out of his suit, the same one that he’d worn to his mother’s funeral on the day that you’d met because he didn’t have it in him to go out and buy a new one. He couldn’t even imagine telling a shop assistant that he was looking for a suit because he was burying his wife. Besides, you’d always made little comments to him about how handsome he looked in that suit, and even though you were gone, he still wanted to please you. Your pillow still smelt like you, and Jaemin held it tightly in his grip as he laid on his bed, no more tears left inside of his eyes to cry, since they’d all been poured out before and during your funeral. The door opening made him look up, and he gave Jeno a hardly there smile.

“I brought you some toast, you need to eat.” He set the plate down on the bedside table and gently sat on the edge of the bed beside Jaemin. He bit his bottom lip for a moment before sighing and finally speaking his mind. “I’m so worried about you, you’ve tried to kill yourself over things a lot smaller than this, and every time I step into your room I’m scared I’ll see you hanging from the curtain poll, or in a pool of your own vomit from overdosing…Jaemin I need to know that you’re going to be okay.” Jaemin gulped and sat up, gently setting your pillow down in your empty spot and letting out a sigh as he looked at his best friend.

“Jeno, I have never in my life been more determined to live than I am right now.” A big smile broke out on Jaemin’s face, despite the tears he didn’t think he had spilling over his waterline. “Life is so precious, and (Y/N) had hers ripped away from her so fast before she even got to properly live. How could I ever take my own life away now?” Jeno felt a wash of relief rush over him, and he took Jaemin’s hand into his own, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t just live for myself now, I live for her. She’s a part of me now, and as long as my heart is still beating, her love for me is still alive.” He took a deep breath and then smiled as he looked at the picture of the two of you on his bedside table. “Her ending came too fast, but it wasn’t our ending, because our love lives on. And this will definitely will not be my ending.”

---

Okay, so this is the end of the main stories for Differences! How are we feeling? I’m so sorry by the way, I have never cried so much writing as what I did for this piece. I hope you guys enjoyed this series, but don’t worry, it’s not the end end! I still have epilogues to write for each of the boys and short stories for them. Character Asks on @jenonctcity-character-asks are open! Thank you so much for reading, I love you.

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