#i know i have to get to september so we have another two months to go | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hannie-dul-set · 3 months

Text

the breakup soup — [y.jh].

SYNOPSIS. you and jeonghan get into an argument in the middle of the meeting. the rest of your organization’s officers slowly start to realize that this isn’t just about whether the mountains or the sea would be the better venue for your event.

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x female! reader. GENRE. lovers to exes to lovers, humor, romance, tiny angst, orgmate! jeonghan, college! au, a whole lot of forced proximity, only one bed inn room, a bunch of nosy men. WARNINGS. written breakup (obviously), so much swearing, many many dumb inappropriate jokes (divorce, fucking, diarrhea, to name a few), parliamentary procedures jargon. WORD COUNT. 15k.

NOTE. after six, seven months, this this is finally out of hell (my gdocs). the soup is overcooked. holy shit. everything is written in the pov of a certain teener (excluding jeonghan and the mc. this fic is about them but no, you do not have access to their thoughts). this is super duper fun to write and i hope it’s fun to read as well HHAHAHAHA. please let me know what you think! enjoy!

“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 7, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

The words robotically fall out of Seungcheol’s mouth as he turns over the pages of his clipboard, marking a precise, red dot next to the word ‘agenda’ on the page. Another day, another meeting. He can’t wait for the moment he can finally retire from this god damned position. Every single time he repeats his presiding officer script, it feels like a digit gets added to his age.

“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.”

Wonwoo starts the roll call, and Seungcheol is desperately trying to cover his yawn with the clipboard, else Seungkwan is gonna grate at him again for dozing off in his own meeting— the aforementioned straightening himself in his seat when his position is called.

“Public Information Officer 1?”

“Present and voting.”

“PIO 2?

“Present—” says Joshua, flicking a paper clip across the table and into Vernon’s nth latte of the day. “—and voting.”

“Next. Assistant Business Manager.”

“Prese—”

“Okay, got it.” Chan brandishes a look of offense when Wonwoo cuts him off. “Business Manager?”

“Present and voting. Do we really have to keep doing this one by one?”

Mingyu has a point, Seungcheol mentally agrees. But his god damned seniors wrote in the damned constitution and bylaws that every meeting of SVT (Society of Virtuous Timetravellers. He’s in the process of renaming it because your organization that’s supposed to be for history and culture is attracting weirdos instead— and two of them are Soonyoung and Seokmin) must abide by strict parliamentary procedures, so he has no choice but to suck it up and listen as Wonwoo continues to read out the succeeding positions on the attendance list, and it’s starting to sound a lot like a lullaby.

“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting.” The scratch from Wonwoo’s throat signals Seungcheol that it’s to zone back in. “Vice Chairperson-External?”

“Present and voting.”

Your voice draws Seungcheol's attention. He turns his head towards you and he notices the sheets of binded up papers you have in your hands, straightened with a few taps on the table surface before you settle them back down, a swell of pride when he sees what’s printed on the topmost page.

It’s impeccably organized, the task he assigned to you only three days prior. Hell, you even have page tabs sticking out of the sides of every page. Your work ethic never fails to impress him. On top of that, you’re always so professional— able to separate your personal and org life with strict barriers in between because even though you and Junhui have been friends for ten years, your sharp glare holds no reservations when you catch him folding paper turtles with sticky notes right next to you when inside the meeting room.

“Sorry,” Jun breathes out. You retract your leg from under the table after giving him a discreet kick.

Anyway, Seungcheol has high hopes for you, and he’s eyeing you to replace him as SVT’s Chairperson next year (he’s already in the process of manipulating you into taking the job: the compliments he gives away aren’t for free). You’re perfect. You’re flawless. There’s no one else fit for the position but you.

Which is why the next course of events comes as nothing less than a shock to him.

“Vice Chairperson-Internal?” Wonwoo calls out but is met with silence. He looks around. “VCI?”

No answer. You scoff.

“Alright, moving on. Mr. Chair?”

Seungcheol stiffens, second-guessing what he’d just heard, but the near-invisible crooked twitch of the corner of your mouth proves that no, that wasn’t just his imagination. You just scoffed. A sharp noise laced with derision and contempt. That should’ve been the first sign that something is off.

“Present,” he coughs out, resigning his attention back to the meeting he has to preside over. It must be nothing. Even you can get annoyed sometimes. Maybe Jun is fucking around again and you’ve just had about enough.

“There are thirteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair. We are in quorum.”

“Thank you. Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s—”

The office door swings open.

“Sorry, I’m late!”

And Mr. VCI rushes in with his white coat still hanging off his shoulders. The meeting is put to an abrupt pause as Jeonghan hastily walks up to his assigned seat, trying to explain the reason for his tardiness. “Our lab session took longer than expected,” Jeonghan huffs out, dragging out the chair next to him. “Dr. Han wouldn’t let us—”

“It’s common decency to enter the room and sit down quietly when you’re late so as to not disturb the ongoing meeting. Especially when you haven’t informed the body beforehand.”

Seungcheol flinches when he hears the interruption of your sharp tone. His head quickly snaps to your direction before gleaning Jeonghan’s reaction. His friend’s jaw tightens but he says nothing. That should’ve been the second sign.

“Mr. Chair, may we proceed with the reading of today’s agenda?”

He eyes you carefully and, with a hesitant drawl anchoring his tongue, proceeds with the meeting while Jeonghan quietly settles into his seat. “Mr. VCI, you may send your excuse letter later for record keeping. Anyhow, Mr. Secretary, please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting.” Wonwoo does as instructed. The problem is, Seungcheol can’t hear anything that he’s saying. Not when his seat is exceedingly uncomfortable at the moment.

It’s not his seat. It’s the two people cornering his seat that’s the problem.

Cold sweat breaks out from his forehead. The air is stuffy. You and Jeonghan lock eyes for zero-point-five seconds and there’s a chill in the atmosphere that only Seungcheol can feel. What the fuck is going on?

“Thank you Mr. Secretary. We’ll begin with the first agenda— SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. Alright. As you all may know, this will be our organization’s first event for the academic year, thus I am expecting everyone’s undivided cooperation in making sure that this event will be a success. We have already discussed the initial details of the event during the previous meeting, and we also distributed the tasks to the officers and committees.” He flips through a page and clears his throat. “I believe our Vice Chair External was tasked to scout for the venue. Ms. VCE, have you prepared your presentation?”

You nod, rising from your seat. “Yes, Mr. Chair. I’ve prepared a comprehensive list of all our options.” Okay, Seungcheol breathes in through nose. You seem normal now. Maybe he was just overthinking things. “I ask for everyone’s assistance in distributing the copies.”

Seungcheol looks at the text written in bold when you pass a copy to him— SVT ORYE & MT 20XX: VENUE PROPOSAL. While everyone is passing the paperclip-bound photocopies to each other, you take the liberty to start speaking. “If you look at the second page, you can see the overview of the entire document. I’ve listed five possible venues and compiled their respective addresses, rates, inclusions, menus, and of course, pictures for your reference. We’ll look at each of them one by one, starting with—”

You pause. Jeonghan is raising his hand. Your eyebrow twitches. Seungcheol gets a bad feeling. “Yes, Mr. VCI?”

“Thank you for the acknowledgement,” he says. “I’d like to ask why exactly are all of these venues located in the mountains? Don’t we have other options? It would be fine if it were just us officers, but I believe holding the event in such terrains would be far too inconvenient for more or less a hundred people.”

A very bad feeling.

“I appreciate your insight,” you respond. Uh oh. Your smile is strained and Seungcheol knows it. That’s the smile you wear when you’re about to pulverize a representative for a disadvantageous partnership to the ground. “However, I’d like to bring to your recollection that the theme of this year’s Orye is traditional South Korean folklore. That considered, I came up with the judgment that the mountainous and forested areas would be the most appropriate and immersive venue if we wish to bring this concept to life. I hope that is clear, Mr. VCI. Anyway—”

“It’s still impractical, Ms. VCE.”

Your face stiffens.

Jeonghan just cut you off.

Shit, he just cut you off.

He stands up, leveling you from across the table. “What about our members with asthma? Heart problems? What if it rains on the day of the event? Do you expect everyone to climb up a mountain trail in all these conditions?”

“If you read through my document before inadvertently interrupting me, Mr. VCI, you’d know that three out of the five venues offer uphill transportation in order to get to the accommodations. And although I understand your reservations about the possibility of inclement weather, may I remind you that it’s also the driest season of the year. You’re being unreasonable.”

Fuck. Seungcheol thinks he needs to butt in but he can’t find the timing when there’s literally an invisible fucking electric fence deterring him from reaching the both you. He catches a glimpse of Joshua’s concerned eyebrows. ‘Do something,’ his friend’s eyes say. He’s about to until you drop a sentence that shoots the tension off the roof.

“Furthermore, I’ve surveyed all of the officers through text if they agree with my venue proposal and I was met with no objections. You’d know if you opened any of my messages last night, Jeonghan.”

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck, you called him by his first name.

You never call anyone by their first name. At least not during meetings and it’s very clear that this is a reason for alarm because everyone else’s eyes fly wide open. Except Jeonghan’s. He just looks pissed— mirroring your very own expression. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong and Seungcheol is slowly starting to realize that this argument isn’t just about the venue conflict.

“Ahem.” He clears his throat for the nth time, a wound might break open. “We will take our VCI’s concern into consideration. If you believe holding our Orye in the mountains is impractical, where do you suggest we should hold it instead?”

Jeonghan’s shoulders relax. He gives you a momentary look before settling back into his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.” You do the same. Seungcheol breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’d like to suggest that we hold it by the beach and sea. Not only would it be more accessible, it would also be considerably cheaper considering there’d be no extra expenses for transportation up the hiking trail. There are also more options if we hold it on the beach. I already have contacts from last year’s set of events. We don’t have to worry about negotiations.”

Seungcheol nods in response. He’s about to say something but once again, he hears an unmistakable scoff from your direction. “Of course, you’d go for the low effort option.”

Oh no. Oh god, no.

Jeonghan’s eyes dart towards you. “What was that?”

Seungcheol doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

“I’m just saying that it’s so like you to go for the easy way out.”

He doesn’t get paid for this at all.

“What are you trying to tell me here, Ms. VCE?” Jeonghan’s tone is getting more pointed, and the rest of the table are starting to pick up on what’s going on. Mingyu is slowly inching off of his seat and finding the right time to book it. Chan and Seokmin are nervously flitting their eyes back and forth between Jeonghan and you. Minghao hao stopped paying attention. He’s got his airpods on and scrolling through his phone.

“The sea is not theme-appropriate for our event, Mr. VCI,” you firmly press on. “There are myths and folklore that reference the sea and ocean, however as an introductory event for our organization we should defer from making far too uncommon references since most of our members are beginners to our advocacy.”

Vernon is about to be swallowed by his chair. Seungkwan has his face in his hands. Seungcheol’s phone vibrates and it’s a message from Wonwoo. Should I include all of this in the minutes? he asks. Seungcheol isn’t even sure if this argument is still about the venue.

“May I also add that beach events are overused. Everyone holds acquaintance parties, Christmas parties, sensitivity trainings at beaches and beach resorts. Should we follow that template, I doubt our event would be memorable enough for our members to remember.”

“Then it’d be the obligation of the program committee to make it memorable.” The said committee flinches upon hearing Jeonghan’s words. Joshua and Junhui don’t look like they agree with the additional burden. Jihoon’s forehead is wrinkling from secondhand stress. “We don’t need to sacrifice the affordability and accessibility of our location in order to hold a note-worthy event. And, may I also reiterate that we should consider our members with health problems, Ms. VCE.”

This is enough. This is probably enough. Maybe it’s time for Seungcheol to intervene.

“However, I understand,” Jeonghan continues. “I understand that it’s not easy for you to be considerate.”

But how the fuck is he supposed to do that when you two fucks won’t stop provoking each other?

“Oh, for god’s sake!” It’s hopeless. It’s gone out of control. Your voice has bordered on yelling ang Seungcheol himself is afraid of being caught in between. “Are you still mad about the cat thing?!”

What is the cat thing? What in the hell is actually going on?

“This is not about the cat thing and you know that.” There’s a ruffle in Jeonghan’s voice. He lets out a groan and throws his head back with his fingers digging into his hair. “Fuck. Let’s talk later.”

Yes. Yes, please just talk later so we can move on with the meeting.

“Did you just swear at me?”

Nevermind.

There’s a second silence. One second— until the corner of Jeonghan’s mouth twitches and he expels a huff of incredulity. It’s ominous. It’s a harbinger of uncomfortable destruction. “So swearing is crossing the line, but refusing to let me meet your parents and forcing us to keep this relationship a secret is completely justifiable?”

Well shit.

This meeting is done for.

Silence washes over the office once again. Wide eyes are being exchanged and not even Wonwoo is filling the tension with his incessant typing on the laptop. Chair, I don’t think I should include this part in the minutes, Seungcheol receives another message from him. Of course he shouldn’t. A relationship reveal isn’t part of the agenda. Neither is a breakup but he fears it’s teetering to that outcome.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s suffocatingly uncomfortable and Seokmin looks like he’s about to cry at any moment.

“Well,” you simmer. “I guess it’s not much of a secret anymore, isn’t it?”

“Damn.” Soonyoung receives an elbow from Jihoon. He gets hushed down very quickly to make room for another agonizing exchange between you and Jeonghan.

“Is that literally all you have to say? You’re so insensitive, it drives me fucking nuts. This is why it’s so hard to keep seeing you—”

“Oh, so you think I’m not having a hard time? If you can’t understand why I had to do that, then let’s just stop seeing each other!”

“Fine, I’m glad we’re on the same page this time.”

“Great!”

“Great.”

“Your clothes better be out of my closet by tomorrow.”

“Throw them away, I don’t need them.”

“I will! Thanks for the suggestion!”

Things have now gone beyond the point of salvation and he can’t even interject to formally end this disaster of a meeting.

“Mr. Chair, I apologize, but I’m afraid I will be leaving early today.” Oh, so now you remember his existence. You’re fuming, slinging over your shoulder bag and haphazardly collecting your things from the table, and Seungcheol simply massages his temples and nods in acknowledgement to your sudden leave. “Please go through the document at your discretion and I’ll be respecting whatever decision the body makes. Thank you and have a good day.”

Just like that, you’re gone. Jeonghan also starts collecting his things. “My phone lines are open in case you need anything. Goodbye.” With that, he also disappears with the harsh swing and slam of the door, leaving behind another blanket of uncomfortable silence for everyone else to drown in.

Seungcheol sighs. He feels a headache kicking in.

“So...are we having the event in the mountains or by the sea?”

He groans.

Is it too late to file a resignation?

*‎

The following week has been nothing less than hell for SVT (Seungcheol has yet to change to the org name. He’s getting there. Slowly. Fuck university bureaucracies). The Orye is fast approaching, so there are still a lot of matters to be settled— printing documents, processing permits, making calls. The venue dispute is yet to be settled. Mr. Chair instructed a team to check out the mountain and sea accommodations you and Jeonghan forwarded within the weekend to get a better feel of both options.

There’s still so much work, which honestly doesn’t pose a problem with Boo Seungkwan, one of the org’s information officers. He’s used to it, being a member of SVT since his freshman year and all. This workload is nothing to SVT. Nothing to you.

It’s almost like you’re a machine. Printing documents? You’re a one-woman printing shop. Processing permits? You’ve befriended all the office heads and one word from you will get the event approved. It’s basic shit. Completely rudimentary. Seungkwan has always been at awe with how you operate. But right now, the problem is not the work.

It’s the work environment that’s the problem.

“Can someone pass me the stapler?”

Your voice cracks into the tense silence in the office like a cold blade, causing Seungkwan to flinch and look up from his paperwork. The whirring of the printer fills in the void left behind by your voice, with Chan carefully organizing the freshly printed pages with tight lips. You’re met with no response. He locks eyes with Joshua. The stapler is beside Jeonghan, who’s running through the program for the event. They share a look of dread.

“Where is the stapler?” You look up from the table. The clear stiffening of your face upon noticing where the damned thing is forces knots into Seungkwan’s temples. Oh god. Here we go. “Nevermind.”

The stupid stapler skids across the table. It’s been transported from one end to your end. Jeonghan’s eyes are glued to his laptop when he slides it down. Jun is nervously hovering behind him. Seungkwan wants to throw up.

“Jun,” Jeonghan calls out. “How many steps does it take for you to get from one end of the meeting table to the other?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

“Can you try walking from here to the other end of the table?”

Jun is sweating. He hesitantly nods and slowly creaks away from his spot behind Jeonghan, cautious steps towards your end of the table. Three steps. All eyes are on him. Five steps. Seungkwan is not religious but he’s making the sign of the cross. Seven steps.

“Wow. Ten steps is easier and faster than I thought! Anyway, you can come back now, Jun. I have some questions regarding—”

Swoosh!

Something rockets through the air, missing Jeonghan’s face by a mere inch from its trajectory. Holy shit. It hits the wall behind Jeonghan and crashes into the floor. “My bad,” you announce. “I wondered how quick it’d be if I threw something from here to there. It’s definitely faster than just walking.”

Assault. That must be assault. This is insane. This is getting out of hand. Seungkwan can’t deal with this shit anymore.

“I can’t fucking deal with this shit anymore!”

As he says, the moment you and Jeonghan leave the office to attend your respective classes. Jun takes a hefty intake of air and everyone relaxes almost immediately. “Seriously. Why should we suffer because they can’t hold their relationship together?!” he fumes. “If they wanted to break up, they could’ve done it in private. I’m sick and tired of walking on pins and needles whenever both of them are around!”

Murmurs of agreement break out. If their Chair was here, they would’ve been scolded. Thank fucking god he’s at the admin office processing their name change. “This reminds me of the time my parents got divorced,” Soonyoung offhandedly mentions while fiddling through their budget plan.

Wonwoo narrows his eyes at him. “Wasn’t that also the time you started perceiving yourself as a tiger as a coping mechanism?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus christ.”

“I agree with Seungkwan,” Minghao announces. He had just finished sweeping up the shattered stapler from the ground. “I can’t keep up with them anymore. Whenever I’m with our VCE I have to talk shit about the other. Why don’t we just lock them up in a closet so they can fuck and make up?”

A grimace creeps into Chan’s face. “I abhor the image you’ve just supplanted into my mind.”

Minghao furrows his brows. “Who told you to imagine them having sex in our dirty storage closet? Weirdo.” Chan is unable to say anything back. “Anyway, how do we fix this? I have to meet with Jeonghan hyung for dinner and I’m running out of bad things to say about his ex-girlfriend.”

“I thought the plan was to lock them up in the closet?” Seokmin tries to clarify. They’re all actually considering it. Seungkwan is sure they have a death wish.

“You guys can’t be serious. Didn’t you see Vice Chair’s face when hyung walked into the room earlier? She looked like she was considering murder, I had the fucking chills. We are not locking them in a closet unless you all want it to end with a dead body in our office.” Seungkwan pauses. “Thirteen. Thirteen dead bodies if she finds out we orchestrated it.”

“Then what should we do?” Vernon asks. “Get one of them to resign?”

“No!” Soonyoung interjects. “I can’t deal with another divorce!”

Jihoon’s face contorts. “They aren’t your parents. You didn’t even know they were together until they broke up.”

“Still,” Seokmin joins in. “I don’t want any of them to leave SVT.”

Jun presses his lips together. “I think I saw her drafting a resignation letter earlier.”

There is silence. Then the dawning of realization. Then chaos erupts.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no way.”

“We can’t let that happen!”

“Let’s burn her letter before she can submit it!”

“Nobody let her near the office!”

They’re all behaving like idiots, but Seungkwan has to agree. There is without a doubt that even though your breakup has recently put the organization into an uncomfortably tight spot— SVT would be done for if either of you leave. Seungcheol hyung can’t shoulder everything by himself. The both of you are the bedrock of SVT’s internal and external affairs respectively. Resignation is out of the question.

“Heh. You’re all overlooking something.”

It’s a new voice. Seungkwan wondered when this fucker would speak up, and he’s making his entrance in a gratingly obnoxious way.

Mingyu is sitting on Seungcheol’s swivel chair in the latter’s absence. He slowly spins it around, facing the rest of the members with the pads of his fingers pressed together. “To fix a problem, we should find out the root cause first.” Seungkwan wants to hit him, but Mingyu looks like he’s onto something. “Nobody’s resigning. I have a plan.”

*‎

Jihoon didn’t want to have anything to do with this.

It’s not his business whoever from his orgmates are fucking around or have completely fucked their relationship. It’s not his business whether or not you and Jeonghan have the chance to get back together again.

“If your previous supplier didn’t scam us last summer, we wouldn’t even be out here right now.”

Yet that is exactly what he’s been tasked to do— to dig his nose into your business, on a hot day, while having to canvass printing shops in the district. But finding a replacement supplier for your org shirts is the least of his concerns at the moment because—

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: any update??? have you gotten through her yet?????]

How the hell is he supposed to fish out any information from you about your relationship with Jeonghan?!

“But these rates are seriously unreasonable. I’ll put this one on the table,” you say, ticking off a box from your checklist and Jihoon is sweating bullets. “What do you think, Hoon?”

Sure, you two work pretty well together and you praise his competence any single time you get the chance, but that’s the problem. You aren’t close. Your relationship is strictly professional. Hell, your text convo is nothing but org-related and Jihoon doesn’t fucking understand why he has to be the one doing this job when he can give less than two shits about the situation.

“Let’s check out the next place on the list first,” he replies. “I think the quality for this one is still better than the previous.

Dealing with someone else’s relationship problems wasn’t part of the job description when he got elected as treasurer. He’s got his own love life (or lack thereof) to worry about.

“Alright,” you reply with a deep exhale. It’s hot, and you’re getting tired. He’s also getting tired. Can’t you all just go home? “We’ll take a break first. Let’s continue after getting a drink, but where’s Mingyu? Did he get diarrhea or something?”

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: hyung status report plz.] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Hoshi: wow we sound like actual secret agents.]

Jihoon feels his head starting to hurt. “I’ll text him.”

“Thanks.”

Mingyu isn’t coming back. Not until Jihoon manages to get something out of you. According to Jun, you’ve branded him as ‘Jeonghan-allied’ (whatever the fuck that means), so there’s no way you’d be talking if that street lamp is hanging around. “They went to the same high school! I can’t trust bastards from Hyangnam anymore,” Jun quoted from you personally, and they all started wondering what your conjectured alignment for each of them is.

However, Mingyu is functionally obligated to tag along with your canvassing venture today because he’s SVT’s business manager and Jihoon has all your org money. You’re here because you can’t stay put unless you’re directly involved in the task. Mingyu asked permission to go to the bathroom earlier to give his comrade an opportunity. That was forty-five minutes ago. Jihoon still hasn’t gotten anything from you.

“It’s an emergency, he says. A big one. Gigantic.” Mingyu never said that. Jihoon’s phone is a black screen. “Public toilets aren’t trustworthy. He went to his apartment. He told us to continue without him.”

You grimace with the click of your tongue. “Gross. Those god damned Hyangnam bastards. Let’s go. I need something cold.”

Time is ticking, his phone keeps on buzzing, and Jihoon grows steadily more restless by the minute. You two finish ordering and pay for your two lemonades with SVT money. “It’s the least this damn org can do for us,” you say. He fears you might actually resign, and it doesn’t do his ever escalating nerves a favor. How does he do it? How does he bring up Yoon Jeonghan without invoking your fury?

“Jihoon,” you call out, and he flinches. “What’s wrong? You’ve been spacing out since this morning.”

You’re both sitting on the nice leather seats of the air-conditioned cafe. Being out of the heat seems to have bettered your mood. Maybe he can wiggle something out while you’re pacified by the lemonade and cool air.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat. His knees are shaking. Shit. This is harder than processing your cash advance for the fucking orientation. He needs to ease it in. To bring it up discreetly. “I never really suspected that you and Jeonghan hyung were dating.”

Regret comes instantaneously the moment the words fall out of his mouth.

So much for being discreet. Your face stiffens. Jihoon knows he fucked up badly.

“I—I mean, I’m not trying to comment on anything, I was just surprised to find out.” Dammit. Wrong move. He might get blacklisted like you did with Mingyu. He’s not panicking because their stupid operation might fail. He’s panicking because he’s gonna lose the bragging right of being on good terms with SVT’s intimidatingly unapproachable Vice Chair.

The ice in your drink clinks around. Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut and prepares for the worst.

“God. I can’t believe I dated him in the first place.”

Then he opens one eye. He sees you swirling your lemonade with one hand, the other used as a resting place for your chin before you take a sip from the straw and continue complaining. “I can’t stand him. I shouldn’t have let him sweet talk me into that first fucking date, that venomous bastard. His face is a weapon. I should’ve known better than to trust that face.”

Jihoon’s eyes are now fully opened. He discreetly pulls out his phone from his pocket— the device still constantly buzzing— and opens his recorder app all while his heart is nervously barrelling against his ribcage from the remnants of his fear. “Did he like—” Jihoon presses record, “—cheat on you or something?”

“What? No way. He’d never do that.”

“Then,” he continues prodding. “Why did you two break up?”

“Ugh,” you grunt, taking another long sip from your drink before slamming it down the table with a thunk. Jihoon flinches. He secures his phone underneath the table, checking if it’s still recording everything. “Don’t get me started. You don’t get it, Hoon. He’s just so—”

Jihoon never expected you to just lay down everything for him. You just continue pouring and pouring everything out like a fountain. A fountain of dirty laundry and too many swear words that his audio recording might get flagged if it gets uploaded online. This...was easier than expected.

*‎

Seokmin’s eyes are narrowed at his senior— zoomed in and in focus as the aforementioned finishes talking to a group of SVT’s new members. He’s taken a step back with a stack of flyers pressed to his chest. He can’t miss anything. He can’t miss a single thing.

“Thank you! I better be seeing your faces during the event, alright? Enjoy your lunch!”

Jeonghan is giving them the copy of the program for your upcoming Orye and MT. Freshmen. All women, as far as his eyes can tell, and they’re all giggling after his senior bids them off. He’s never seen Jeonghan hyung smile at you like that. In fact, he’s never even seen him wave at you goodbye like what he’s doing right now. Has he moved on? Oh no. This is bad. This plan might be ruined before they could even conduct an intervention.

“Seokmin, what’s wrong?” asks Jeonghan, snapping him out from the brink of a spiral of despair. “You don’t look too good. Is the weather too hot? Should we take a break?”

“N—no, I’m alright! Let’s keep going!” Seokmin needs to know if his hyung’s unnaturally sweet behavior was an isolated case. There’s not enough information in the air to make a solid conclusion.

“Well, I’m not alright,” Jeonghan grimaces. “The heat is unbearable. Let’s have lunch first, then we’ll continue. Go find us a good place to eat.”

A lump grows in Seokmin’s throat and he nervously swallows, watching as Jeonghan pulls out his phone and starts typing a message, to the SVT group chat probably to give them an update. Or to one of the girls he was talking to earlier. Shit. “Hyung, who are you texting?” he asks. Jeonghan responds with a pause, a suspicious smile, and tells him that ‘it’s a secret, hehe,’ and that he should hurry and look for a nice restaurant because he’s starving.

That wasn’t a helpful answer at all. Seokmin’s anxiety grows by the second. “What...what do you want to eat, hyung?” He should ask more questions later.

“You pick,” is Jeonghan’s reply with yet another grin that puts him ill at ease. “I’m placing my faith in you Seokmin. It better be a good place.”

There’s another lump in his throat. Oh god. This guy sure knows how to pressure people in the weirdest ways. And now instead of prodding around to figure out if his senior has indeed moved on or still has lingering feelings for you, he’s scrolling through his phone trying to look up a good restaurant— panic-stricken because god forbid he make a disappointing choice— while Jeonghan starts talking to another SVT member who just happened to pass by.

“We’re having it next month,” he overhears Jeonghan speaking, momentarily taking away his eyes from his phone just to see his hyung yet again looking and smiling at the org member with an alarming amount of sweetness pouring out of his eyes. “I’ll see you there?”

“Y—yes…!”

His observation is cut short by the buzz of his phone. A message bar pops up, covering the top of the screen and preemptively stopping his resto search.

[Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Seungkwan: seok, do we have updates??? jihoon hyung hasn’t gotten back to use since thirty minutes ago!!] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Minghao: I told you all this plan was hopeless] [Operation We Are Never Ever Getting (Them) Back Together: Kim Mingyu: why is noona telling me to take herbal teas and drink lots of water?????]

“So, where are we eating?”

Seokmin’s bones rattle and the phone nearly jumps out of his hands like a live fish.

“Talking to people is tiring,” he hears his senior lament with a long sigh. “Seokmin-ah, you take over after lunch. Let’s go.”

Go where? He hasn’t picked a place yet! Why are there so many food places around campus?! Jeonghan quickly starts walking and, out of even more panic, Seokmin picks a random direction, robotically taking the lead, brain overheating and eyes spinning out of focus until muscle memory lands them across the street of a hotpot place he frequents, just a few blocks away from campus. “O—oh, haha! Hyung, we’re here! Let’s—let’s quickly get inside, yes—”

He stops upon the realization that Jeonghan isn’t following him along the crosswalk. When Seokmin turns his head back, he sees Jeonghan staring at the place with a dampened expression. His first thought is maybe Jeonghan hyung doesn’t like hotpot. His second thought is maybe he shouldn’t be stopping in the middle of the road, so he quickly pads back to the sidewalk.

“Hyung…? Are— are you not in the mood for hotpot? Should we go somewhere else?” Seokmin’s gut churns, devastated because he had just betrayed his hyung’s trust in finding an acceptable restaurant. What’s wrong with hotpot at Red House? Did he have a bad experience here? But his place is so good! He and Soonyoung and Jun hyung have been eating here twice a week, Wednesday and Saturdays, ever since you recommended the place to them as your favorite, and— oh.

So, that’s the problem.

You’ve probably eaten here with him too.

“No, no. We’re not going anywhere.” Jeonghan’s demeanor suddenly switches gears. He brushes past him with a sudden determined look, not looking back even when Seokmin calls after him.

“Hyung, I know another place nearby. We don’t have to—”

“Let’s get inside.”

Seokmin has no freaking idea how to dissect or interpret this reaction. Nervous steps follow his senior inside the restaurant, and a server welcomes them both and leads them to a table by the window. “Oh, you’re not here with your girlfriend today,” says the waiting staff after they’ve made their orders, and he sees Jeonghan visibly flinch in the middle of passing back the menu. Jeonghan simply responds with a stiff smile. Seokmin is sure that he had just screwed up big time.

Why did the server have to mention you? Why?! Now, he can’t help but look at the server with an utter look of betrayal as he sets the ingredients on the table. “Is...is there something wrong, sir?” asks the server with uneasy concern. Seokmin’s bottom lip juts out, shaking his head with a sniffle, and thanks the server with a weak voice and tone.

Jeonghan doesn’t appear to be faring any better. While waiting for the broth to boil, all Seokmin could do is soak up the steadily deflating expression of his hyung and worry that it might affect the taste of the food somehow. He was pretty sure Jeonghan is already over you, considering he seemed to be mildly flirting with the org members earlier and all. But now he’s not so sure. Not when his hyung is poking his chopstick into a block of tofu with a gut wrenching look of longing.

“Hyung...” Seokin makes an attempt. “I’m—I’m sorry for bringing you here, I didn’t know it was—”

“Seokmin-ah.” Jeonghan speaks along with the crank of the stove. “A gente world of advice: don’t bring up sensitive topics when the person you’re talking to has a weapon on him. You’re going to get in trouble.”

The sunlight leaking through the window gives a dangerous glint to the scissors Jeonghan is holding. Seokmin bites his tongue. Jeonghan cuts up the noodles and the two start eating quietly.

Seokmin loves eating. He really does. But this time, every bite tastes like hot sand, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to get indigestion afterwards.

He swallows down another mouthful with the help of a glass of water, and as he’s trying to get the mix of meat and vegetables down his throat, the sound of utensils that were previously clattering suddenly stops. When Seokmin puts the glass down, he sees Jeonghan seasoning the warm broth with salt.

The natural salt that comes out of your eyes when you start crying.

Holy shit, his hyung is crying.

“Sorry, I just— haha, the soup’s a little spicy, right?”

No. No it’s not. They ordered chicken broth. The soup isn’t spicy at all.

“H—hyung…”

Seokmin’s eyes are now also starting to water. Oh no. Oh no, dear god, what has he done? He didn’t mean to bring him here and reawaken stashed away memories. All he wanted to do was find a good place to eat!

“Hyung, I’m so sorry.”

This was a mistake. They should’ve just had kimbap and ramyeon at the nearby 7-Eleven.

*‎

“So, let me get this straight. One of them did nothing but talk shit about the other for thirty minutes, and the other started crying because Seokmin brought him to her favorite restaurant.”

The SVT officers (minus their Chair and Vice Chars) have reconvened the next day at the office. Their upcoming event isn’t a priority right now. The only thing on the agenda is the problem with you and Yoon Jeonghan— to which Mingyu is trying to wrack his brains in coming up with something in light of their initial investigation.

“After listening to the recording Hoon sent, I don’t think she hates Jeonghan. She sounded like was just nitpicking in the heat of the moment,” says Jun. “If she’s still angry at him...maybe she isn’t over him yet? Maybe there’s still a chance?”

All eyes are on Jihoon, who witnessed your rant firsthand.

“I don’t know. All I can say is that she looked a little sad while talking about him. She didn’t add anything else beyond the recording.” It’s not like the recording was of any help. Most of it was just you calling Jeonghan a son of a bitch, a piece of shit, and so on, as well as a few tangents about Mingyu that he himself didn’t quite appreciate. He thought he was your favorite. Like, why are you assuming that he’s on Jeonghan’s side?! They weren’t even friends back in high school!

He spins the office chair in annoyance. To think he gave you a higher score than Jeonghan on your quarterly evaluation. Maybe he should ask Cheol to take it back.

“Well, if one of them is still on the hook, then there’s still a possibility that they can still get back together,” Wonwoo conjectures, eliciting murmurs of agreement from the rest.

“Does this mean we can finally lock them inside a fucking closet?”

“We are not locking them in a closet,” Seungkwan says. Minghao rolls his eyes at the dismissal. “We can’t do that. But we can bring in some forced proximity in a different way.”

Mingyu stops swiveling the chair. Why is Seungkwan looking straight at him? Wait. Why are they all looking straight at him? His throat tightens. He forces down a swallow. What, what, what’s the matter, why are they all looking at him?

“Oh no!”

Suddenly, Seungkwan starts a one-man drama. He exclaims, an arm jutting into the air before he lets the back of the loose hand drop onto his forehead, stumbling into Vernon who’s standing next to him.

“I just remembered I have a doctor’s appointment this Saturday— the same day where I’m supposed to accompany our Vice Chairs and Business Manager in checking out the venues! Oh no! I don’t think I can make it!”

Right. He along with Seungkwan, Chan, Jeonghan, and you are scheduled to evaluate each of the places on your list so that you can finalize the event venue. Not long after, Chan also breaks into a gasp, catching Seungkwan’s signal. “Oh my! I forgot I also, uh, have a thing on Saturday! What a bummer!”

“Then, I also—”

“No!”

Mingyu winces. He’s shocked. He’s appalled. He’s offended. Why is he being yelled at?! Wasn’t he supposed to go along with the other two? “You don’t have a thing on Saturday, Mingyu. You have to be there to make sure that things don’t go wrong!” Seungkwan tells him, and at first he understands. He’s goes ‘oh, right, of course, yeah, sure,” but the moment what that situation entails finally dawns upon him— the fact that he has to be stuck in between you and Yoon Jeonghan for at least ten hours, maybe more— his blood runs cold and his face pales. There’s no way in hell he’s dealing with that.

“Why me?! Why can’t Joshua hyung go?”

Joshua answers with an offended look of bewilderment.

“Hey, it’s your assignment,” answers Jihoon. “And it was your idea to try and get them back together again. You have the moral obligation to make sure this shit actually works.”

There is no hope to get out of this. They adjourn the meeting and everyone starts filtering out the office— not without giving him looks of sympathy and pats on the back before leaving. “Good luck,” Wonwoo says in passing. Vernon sends him a salute before closing the door. Damn him and his meddling ass. He should’ve just let your relationship die out for good.

The day of reckoning comes. It’s five in the morning at the campus parking lot, you and Jeonghan on the opposite ends of his car, and Mingyu already wants to tuck himself in bed for the day. You’re tapping your feet in impatience, looking at your phone with a glare, while Jeonghan pockets his phone with a sigh and welcome’s himself into the front seat of Mingyu’s car with a distinct slam. You huff and do the same into the backseat.

Shit. This might actually be his last day on earth. Mingyu hurries into the driver’s before either of you yell at him to get moving.

“Tell Boo Seungkwan and Lee Chan that they’re getting sanctioned for this,” grits Jeonghan. Mingyu closes the door and prepares himself for an inevitable six to eight hours of hell.

“The kids are sick and you want to penalize them?” you interject from the back. Mingyu notices Jeonghan’s jaw clench. He shuts his eyes tight and whispers a few prayers. “You’re abusing your authority, Mr. VCI. Cut them some slack.”

“Negligence of duty. Section one under General Prohibitions,” rebuts Jeonghan, making eye contact with you through the front view mirror. “Failure to inform ahead of time the inability to do a task or assignment delegated to them shall be considered an act of negligence on the part of the officer. I’m not abusing any authority, sweetheart. I am acting well within my functions. It’s too early for this kind of—”

Silence drops. So does the temperature in the car which at this point feels like negative fourteen degrees. Jeonghan stifles a cough and rolls down the window for air. You look down and flit through the pages of the document you brought. Mingyu’s grip on the steering wheel tightens and he wants to cry.

“Can we go now? Please? We have six places to visit and I really don’t want to be driving until midnight.”

“We can rotate,” you tell him. “Let’s switch drivers after every location.”

Something tells Mingyu that if he lets your explosive temper behind the wheel, this will not only be the last he’ll be seeing of his cherished car that his parents got him as a gift for his twenty-first birthday, but this will also be the last he’ll be seeing of this mortal realm as well.

“No, haha, it’s okay,” he answers, finally starting the engine. “You two have been working really hard for this event so the least I can do is drive.”

“Well, alright. But there better be no more emergencies like last time.”

Mingyu still doesn’t know what you mean by that. Nor does he know why you’ve been giving him herbal teas and digestive supplements. Anyway, the three of you finally hit the road and proceed to your first stop— all the way to Daecheon, which will take about an hour if traffic grants them kindness. Jeonghan rolls the windows back up at some point because besides the ice-cold tension between the both of you, it really is getting cold, and the sky has been cloudy since earlier, and the weather app is telling him that there’s a twenty percent chance of rain. Literally all odds are stacked against him today.

He does live long enough to get through three venues, thankfully. The first one, near Daecheon beach, you complained that the rooms were stuffy and Jeonghan told you to sleep by the ‘goddamned beach if you wanted to feel extra fresh.’ The second beach location couldn’t accommodate your amount of people. The third one— the hanok-style villa in Gyeongsang which you’ve just finished surveying and which Mingyu thought was really nice— Jeonghan said that there’s too many bugs for it to be conducive. You told him to wear a mosquito net ‘you fucking princess,’ while walking back to the car. At this point, it’s already past four in the afternoon. The eleven hours of being trapped in a car with your ex-boyfriend is probably finally getting to your head.

“You really could care less about your members’ well being as long as we do what you want, don’t you?”

“I wasn’t bitten by a single mosquito there. You’re just making problems up to discredit my—”

It’s getting to Mingyu’s head, too. One more minute in this enclosed space with the both of you and he’s jumping out the window.

“Anyway, let’s head to the next location,” you say with a sigh. “Woodland Springs Resort. Luckily, it’s only an hour away.”

Mingyu’s knuckles twitch on the steering wheel. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

He catches your face through the mirror, brows furrowed with a frown. “Mingyu, let me drive this time. You’ve been at it for hours.”

“She’s right. Go sit in the back, we can take over.”

He has. He’s tired and annoyed and exhausted by the constant fear that you two might actually make a murder scene out of his precious car, that he’s pretty sure that him driving would soon become a road-risk. It would be fine, right? You two have probably expelled your energy, anyway. Or at least about to. Worst case scenario is that Jeonghan hyung pisses you off and you’d expertly crash the car in a way that would only kill him and leave you two alive.

“Okay,” Mingyu weakly breathes out. “I’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit.”

He opens the car and gets out. So do you. So does Jeonghan. The three of you are out of the car. The math isn’t mathing.

“What are you doing?” you ask Jeonghan.

“I’m taking the wheel,” he simply says, already making his way over to the other side of the car.

“What are you talking about, Mingyu was talking to me.” You’re fast. Fast enough to swat away Jeonghan’s hand from the door handle to the driver’s seat. Jeonghan tightly presses his lips together and releases a huff of air. You look at him with sharp eyes with no intention of moving. Mingyu is literally, physically, and positionally caught in between this shit and he wishes he should’ve just floored it.

“I’m driving,” Jeonghan asserts. “You look barely awake, yourself. Do you plan on crashing us or something?”

The worried undertone completely flies over your head. “Are you saying I’m a bad driver?” Mingyu really doesn’t want to witness this argument at this proximity right now. Jeonghan sighs and digs into his hair.

“No, I just want you to—”

Cr—ack! Boom!

Suddenly, there’s thunder.

And when there’s thunder, there’s rain.

Pshhhhhhh!

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Hurry and get in, let’s go—”

Mingyu really wanted to yell at that moment. Thankfully, the sky beat him to it.

It starts pouring. The three of you scramble back into the car.

All things considered, you all decided that it’d be too dangerous to stay on the road, taking into account the weather and exhaustion and all, so you looked for a nearby inn through Google Maps and Jeonghan drove you there (yes, he won in the end and you’re still bitter in the backseat).

Boom! Another round of thunder, and the rain just continues to pour harder and harder. At this rate, you guys won’t be able to check out the rest of the locations today. Meaning, his prison sentence is bound to be extended. God freaking dammit. Mingyu continues to bitterly lament while rushing into the cabin inn. The door jingles upon entry. He lets out a sigh of relief upon being saved from the rain.

“Hi, good evening! Do you still have any rooms available?”

You’re there at the front desk doing your thing, being the externals head and all, while he and Jeonghan wait behind, damp and uncomfortable. He can see his hyung getting more and more impatient by the second, tapping his wet soles against the wooden flooring with his arms crossed. Mingyu can only sigh and hope to take a meditative shower soon, once you’ve booked the three of your rooms.

“Ah, yes,” says the lady behind the front desk. She looks at you, then spares a glance at him and Jeonghan in all their soggy glory, before flitting her eyes back at you. Okay what the hell. He knows they look terrible right now, but that was just rude. “Will it be for the three of you? Unfortunately, we only have one room left available, ma’am, peak season and all, and it’s only good for two people.

“That’s fine, we’ll take—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Judgemental Front Desk Lady interrupts. “I meant a maximum of two people can occupy the room. It’s our policy.”

Well that’s stupid. The hell were you guys supposed to do, then? Run back to the car, get even more wet in the process, and look for another place to stay in this stupid weather? Mingyu can practically see a vein throbbing on the back of your head. He catches your shoulders lift and drop along with an exhale, a momentary pause before you respond. “Can’t you make an exemption? The weather is terrible outside and we really need a place to stay for the time being.”

Mingyu decides to look over and see how the other ticking time bomb is faring, but when he leers over to the side, Jeonghan is no longer beside him. Wet footsteps against wooden floors can be heard. He snaps his head back to the front desk and sees his hyung walking up to you— placing his arm around your freaking waist when he lands next to you, and alarm bells suddenly go off in Mingyu’s head.

“Babe, what’s the problem?”

Goosebumps prick all over his body.

What.

What the fuck?

“What’s wrong?”

Mingyu rubs his eyes, thinking that he just saw (and heard) wrong, but no. Yoon Jeonghan has indeed reigned claim over your waist. The fuck? He refocuses into your expression, expecting you to look disgusted and send a kick to his hyung’s shin, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, you flash a look at Jeonghan, then back to the receptionist, peering down at the desk surface where her hand is resting, before looking back up at Jeonghan and nudging yourself closer to him with a sigh. What in the everloving fuck is going on?

“They’re saying that only two people can stay inside the room,” you lament. “This trip really isn’t working out for us. After our disaster of a honeymoon, the last thing I thought would happen was for us to get stranded in Gyeongsang in the middle of a storm.”

“Let’s just go look for another place to stay, sweetheart.”

“But it’s pouring outside! I can’t let you drive in the weather. It’s too dangerous.”

Honeymoon? What? What the hell is this improv sketch? Why the fuck is his hyung giving you the lovestruck eyes and why are you letting him look at you with lovestruck eyes? Why are you lovestruck-eyeing him back?

“Oh, you’re newlyweds?” asks the receptionist, and Mingyu didn’t think his eyebrows could scrunch up any further until he heard Jeonghan agree.

“We just got married last week,” he says with a sickeningly sweet tone.

“How lovely!”

“Actually, we just came back from our honeymoon at Geoje Island,” you add. “It’s a long trip, and we wanted to get home as soon as possible, but that...wasn’t exactly an option for us.” Suddenly, you turn your head back to look at him. Now, you’re all looking at him. Why are you all looking at him? This is fucking scary.

You lean into Jeonghan and whisper something into his ear. A look flashes on Jeonghan’s face. He doesn’t like this look.

“Brother, can you please give us a moment?”

There’s a pause. Mingyu’s mouth is hanging slightly ajar and he hesitantly points to himself. Brother? Me? Jeonghan nods and smiles and returns his attention back to you and the receptionist. The three of you are talking about something. In a significantly lower volume. While sending him looks of remorse in between. What the hell are you two bullshitting about now?

Not long after, Mingyu sees the lady drop a room key into your hands and sends you off with a smile. “Second floor. Thank you, and have a great evening!”

“Thanks!”

Mingyu isn’t exactly sure what just happened or how it happened, but at least you have a place to stay for the night? When the three of you hike up the stairs and spot the room with 203 labeled on the door, Mingyu decides that he needs to know what you fuckers talked about. “How did you do it?” He blocks the door before you could open it. “I thought only two people could use this? How did you get us the room?” Jeonghan and you exchange a look before relenting.

“Your fiance called off your engagement and you were so depressed that you followed us all the way to our Geoje,” you blankly respond.

“Our parents are on vacation so you couldn’t go to them. We were kind enough to let you third wheel on our honeymoon,” adds Jeonghan. Mingyu blinks. “But on the way back it started raining, so we’re stuck here for the moment. We noticed a wedding ring on Soonja’s finger, so it was pretty easy to get her sympathy.

Soonja. You even know the lady’s name, holy fuck. At least that explains the pitiful looks sent his way. But Mingyu is still very much perturbed. The hairs on his arms are still standing. “You two are con artists,” is all he can say back.

You roll your eyes and toss the key to him. “Hey, it got us the room.”

“Right,” Mingyu grunts, catching it mid-air. “You’re both so good at lying, even I’m starting to think you’re still married.”

The doorknob clatters open. You and Jeonghan quickly jump away from each other, and Jeonghan loses the steady hold he had around your waist since earlier. Mingyu stifles a grin. The alarm and embarrassment on both of your faces makes this day’s worth of stress all worth it.

“Hurry up and get in! I need a shower and a change of clothes, gosh.”

Fortunately, you three prepared extra articles of clothing for the trip, having anticipated sweat from the heat instead of getting pissed on by the rain clouds. Unfortunately, Mingyu lost at rock paper scissors so he gets to shower last. “There’s a drying rack in the bathroom,” you tell them upon exiting, a towel to your head before plopping down on the bed next to the window.

When Mingyu finishes showering, he hears you and Jeonghan arguing over something again. Cheol’s voice can be heard somewhere too. Upon re-entering the room, he spots you two occupying the floor right by the bed, a laptop sitting on the mattress that’s showing a very tired Seungcheol trying to cut in between your yelling.

“In hindsight, I think the beach in Daecheon is our best option. The kids can run around more freely there.”

“No, you were right about the mountains. The hanok-style villa is better suited for our event theme. We can just add bug repellent to our budget plan.”

“Listen to me for a second—”

“You’re the one who’s not—”

“This could have been an email,” says Seungcheol’s choppy voice thanks to the shitty reception. Yeah. Mingyu isn’t dealing with this. Over twelve hours of being a third party to your arguments is already enough, thank you very much. He drops down the unoccupied bed, already getting comfortable, and uses the nonstop swearing next to him as a lullaby.

Weird enough, it’s an effective lullaby because Mingyu slept like a rock. He yawns, stretches out of bed thanks to the early morning light through the curtains waking him. It’s clear out. The windows have watery dots painting it from the aftermath of the rain.

It’s pretty outside, Mingyu notices, but there’s something more eye-catching than the pretty natural scenery of the mountainside.

The laptop is still on and laying on the bed, pushed further to the edge with a low battery notification obscuring the open document of the event’s program that he’d seen Jeonghan preparing in the car yesterday. But what’s occupying most of the mattress is the both of you— you and Jeonghan— with your printed documents scattered around, surrounding a sight that he probably isn’t meant to see.

You’re laying on Jeonghan’s arm as a pillow, face turned to the side and slightly tucked into chest. Jeonghan’s chin is buried into the top of your head, his legs tangled with yours and the blanket has been kicked off the side. The morning light is showering the both of you like a spotlight. Mingyu snaps a picture. The kids are gonna eat this shit up.

*‎

It’s the day of the event, and Choi Seungcheol has not slept a wink since last night.

There were some last minute things he needed to take care of. Game props, printouts, and powerpoint presentations he forgot to quality check until ten in the evening. Grocery shopping for snacks, and an error in the bus booking. The works. But none of that matters now. They’ve all been settled, everyone has made it to the hanok villa in Gyeongsang in one piece with no asthma attacks nor heart related concerns occurring, and not once had you and Yoon Jeonghan argued ever since last night.

To be honest, it’s freaking him out a little. He wasn’t the only one who had to pull an all-nighter. His two Vice Chairs had to suffer with him too and the both of you have been extremely civil to the point of unease. It’s weird. It’s eerie. Like right now, as you two are welcoming the lines and lines of members in hanboks and traditional attire with matching smiles and pleasantries. You run out of program printouts and ask Jeonghan if he has any left, he gives you a stack, and the exchange ends without even a scoff, a swear, a mock, or even a look of derision.

This is...ominous, to say the least. It’s like the calm before the storm. Choi Seungcheol cannot rest easy.

“What the fuck is going on with them?”

It seems like he isn’t the only one who’s noticed. Currently, it’s lunchtime. They’d just finished presenting the constitution, bylaws, and internal rules and regulations of the organization. Now, they’re queueing up the kids to the food table.

Among the ushers are you and Jeonghan. Standing next to each other. You aren’t arguing but you aren’t talking to each other either. Joshua is the one who brings it up to the small group preparing the drinks right now— him, Soonyoung, and Vernon. If Joshua doesn’t know the reason for your sudden civility, then no one does. Junhui gets interrogated too, but he provides no answers, only confusion. “Wow. Wild,” is all Jun remarks. They have no idea if you two have made up, have settled your differences, have gotten back together, or all of the above.

It’s fucking with him, especially after weeks of being perpetually on the edge because of your cold war. Seungcheol calls Mingyu to a corner while everyone else is in the midst of preparing for the next part of the program. Mingyu jogs over, mildly scared and mildly confused.

“Hyung,” he calls out. “What’s up?”

“Our two Vice Chairs,” Seungcheol starts. He looks over at the center field where the members are sitting. Chan and the rest are still handing out the paper slips. He can still interrogate Mingyu. “You went with them for location scouting. Did something happen between them?”

Mingyu looks taken aback. “Uh.” He stiffens. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him.

“Kim Mingyu.”

“Define ‘something,’” Mingyu delays.

Now, this is suspicious. He definitely knows what that something is. Choi Seungcheol isn’t gonna let him off without squeezing the information out of him. “I don’t know,” he huffs. “Anything that could explain why they’re acting like—”

Seungcheol points in a direction. Mingyu’s eyes follow the trajectory, and his gaze lands on a very alarming scene: Yoon Jeonghan sitting on one of the monoblocks, Yoon Jeonghan seeing you pass by, Yoon Jeonghan standing up, Yoon Jeonghan stopping you with a tap on your shoulder, Yoon Jeonghan offering his seat to you, Yoon Jeonghan leaving the scene and busying himself with some other task, after you had taken his seat.

“Like that?”

Mingyu is now sweating. “Uhhhh,” he hesitantly drawls. Then his eyes dart around. Until he spots Seungkwan pass by with a stack of boxes. “Can I talk to my lawyer first?”

“Mingyu.”

“Let’s—let’s—let’s get back to work, hyung! I have to go—”

He attempts to chase Kim Mingyu down. Attempts. Because Mingyu suddenly has the speed of a track and fielder and drags Seungkwan away into the accommodation building, the hanok, and he’s suddenly pulled back by Chan, who’s holding a box containing two or three small pieces of folder up papers. “Hyung,” Chan starts. “It’s your turn to pick.”

Seungcheol furrows his brows. Drat. Kim Mingyu has escaped. “Pick what?”

“Your manito. Duh,” Chan answers. It’s the box he’s been passing out since earlier— a box filled with the names of all the attendees and whoever you pick out, you’re tasked to take care of them throughout the entire trip and pay them special attention. For relationship building, according to Jeonghan, when he pitched the idea. Seungcheol is aware of this mini activity, but he didn’t know he’d be participating. He stares at the remaining three papers. “Hurry up. I still have to give the rest to Seungkwan and Mingyu hyung.”

“Show me some respect,” he scolds, picking out a random name. “They ran inside. Storage, I think.”

Chan hums in acknowledgement and takes the box away. When he’s left, Seungcheol rolls open the piece of paper. Looking at the members gathered around the field right now (who are listening to the intermission number prepared by Seokmin and Jihoon) he notices that a few of the kids are already getting pretty chummy. He sighs, pretty sure that he picked out a new member that’s most probably three years younger than him. How is he supposed to overcome the generation gap? Won’t the kid find it weird if this old man suddenly starts acting close?

Much to his initial relief, a familiar name greets him. Yours, in big bold letters. That’s...that’s pretty doable. His favoritism for you is already blatant to the point that Soonyoung gets jealous. You’d been working hard since, well— the moment you’ve been a member of fucking SVT. He can just tell you to sit and rest and transfer your tasks over to the other guys.

“Hey.”

Seungcheol calls out to you, who’s sitting on the seat Jeonghan gave away earlier. Seokmin and Jihoon are hyping up the crowd (mostly Seokmin), but you’re hunched over in your seat, massaging your temples while looking over a document. “Chair,” you snap up, visibly tired and stressed (and unrested, by the way). “A few members are absent, so the number of members for each group for the team building later are mismatched. Should we keep it as is, or should we transfer some of them?”

A pang of guilt hits him. Christ, he’s been taking advantage of your competence and diligence. “Transfer, but leave that list with me. I’ll take care of it.” He lays a hand on your shoulder, urging you to go rest inside one of the hanoks for now. “You didn’t even nap on the bus. Go get some sleep. I’ll ask one of the guys to wake you before team building.”

You look up at him, smiling. Oh, his poor successor. He’s been overworking you to the bone. “Will do, Chair. Thanks.”

He mirrors your smile, watching fondly as you walk into one of the houses. It’s all warm and sweet. Until it’s not.

Seungcheol jolts. He feels a chill run down his spine. What the fuck?

He whips his head around, startled by the sudden cold flash. Then, from a few feet away, he spots Jeonghan, preparing the multicolored handkerchiefs for the team building, but has stopped arranging them by color because he is glaring daggers at him. Hello? What in the world? He’s about to approach, but then he staggers in his steps upon seeing you pass by Jeonghan’s station.

Jeonghan stops working, circling from behind the station to say something to you. You say something back— something that’s enough to tighten Jeonghan’s expression, and Seungcheol knits his brows. He can’t hear what you two are talking about, but he’s pretty sure it’s an argument. Oh god. It is an argument. You’ve got your angry face on and Jeonghan is raking his hair. Oh no. You two have been so well-behaved. You’ve been getting along so, so well lately. Is he at fault for ruining your peace?! How was he supposed to know your ex-boyfriend is a jealous bastard?! He was just doing his task and being nice to you!

“There goes all our progress.”

Seungcheol snaps his head back to see Jun. He’s sipping on a juice box, a leftover from lunch. There’s a good amount of disappointment in his face. “Pro—progress?”

Junhui pulls down the juice from his mouth, shaking his head. “Hyung. You’ve ruined everything.”

Now, what the fuck is this cryptic bullshit? Jun just walks away, leaving even more crumples in Seungcheol’s brain. Seokmin and Jihoon’s performance is about to end, the mic screeches, and an applause breaks out, but he’s still debating on what to do. Should he pry information out of Jun? Or run after the both of you? However, he gets to do neither because at the end of the intermission, Seokmin does something off-course.

He’s supposed to pass the mic to Seungkwan by now, to announce the short break before team building. But Seungkwan isn’t here, and Seokmin is still holding the mic, and the crowd is still cheering. He meets eyes with Seokmin onstage. A bad feeling hits his gut. And since the breakup meeting that happened a few weeks ago, Seungcheol has learned that whatever his gut is feeling is unquestionably correct.

“The show isn’t over yet! Let’s give it up to our dependable, hot, and arguably aging Chairperson— Choi Seungcheol! Woohoo!”

This.

This was not part of the program that he remembers approving.

“Choi Seungcheol! Choi Seungcheol! Choi Seungcheol!”

This was definitely not part of it at all.

“Again, give it up for Mr. Chair!”

Illit’s Magnetic, Viviz’s Maniac, and KIOF’s Midas Touch later (with his face mimicking a red and ripe cherry), Seungcheol was finally allowed off the stage. “Wow! That’s our Chair, everybody! Who knew he was hiding this kind of charm?” Seungcheol wants to die. Seokmin’s voice is cheery in the microphone, but his officer suddenly turns his face away from the mic to whisper something to him. “Hyung,” Seokmin’s voice is suddenly grave. “I got a text from Seungkwan. He says he can’t find the VCs.”

Oh, fuck this. He’s going to kill himself.

“Tell—tell the kids we’re gonna have some free time first before proceeding to the team building.” Seokmin nods. Seungcheol’s face is still very very hot, but he swallows the embarrassment aside for now to deal with this problem. You and Yoon Jeonghan can’t just disappear. You’re both leading two teams for the games. Well. Maybe he can give you a pass, but Jeonghan is still needed out there. He feels unreasonably wronged by him too for that glare earlier.

Seungcheol marches into the hanok. He spots an equally stressed looking Seungkwan inside the living area. Mingyu and Jihoon are there, too. So are Joshua, Vernon, and Chan. Why are they all here? They’re supposed to be preparing for the team building. These kids are slacking.

He’s gonna give them an earful later. For now, there’s a bigger issue to solve. “Where are the two?”

“We don’t know!” Seungkwan exclaims. “We’ve been looking for them too.”

He hears a sniffle come from one of them. It’s from Soonyoung. “The last I’ve seen them, they were arguing.” Seungcheol gulps. Maybe…by any chance…that may have been his fault? “This happened with my parents too. And they came back with divorce papers.”

“Stop projecting your unresolved familial trauma onto them,” Jihoon sighs. “They aren’t your parents.”

“I’ve sent a text to Wonwoo and Minghao hyung,” Vernon brings up. “Maybe they’ve seen them.”

At that moment, Minghao enters the living area. Seven heads snap to his direction. Minghao stops in his tracks. “What?” He looks awfully relaxed, not looking as though he had just dealt with two ex-lovers who say they hate each other and that it’s over, but have too much sexual tension for their assertion to be believable. In fact, he looks quite at peace. Satisfied, even. Accomplished. This is fucking suspicious. “Isn’t it time for the team building activities?”

“Hao,” Seungcheol starts. “Have you seen the two Vice Chairs?”

Minghao looks at them. There’s a pause of anticipation. There’s literally no reason for this suspense build-up. “Oh,” Hao exhales. Why are they all waiting for the pin to drop? “I did.”

What they hear next, they never could have been prepared for.

“I locked them in a closet.”

The pin has dropped.

Seungcheol is the first to speak up.

“You...you what?” he starts. “Come again?”

“They were arguing,” Minghao shrugs. “I got annoyed.”

Seungkwan’s mouth is hanging open. “You— you got annoyed,” he stammers. “So you…”

“Locked them in a closet,” Minghao finishes. “Yeah.”

It doesn’t hit them at first. Then it does. It hits them hard.

They all exchange looks. In a matter of soundless seconds, they immediately run to the direction Minghao just came from. What does he mean he locked you and Jeonghan in the closet, why would he lock you two in the closet, locking you two in the closet is a recipe for shit-eating disaster, does he want Yoon Jeonghan to fucking die?

“Shit, what if Jeonghan hyung is dead?”

At least they’re all on the same page. They come to a screeching halt upon reaching the room at the end of the hallway, but there is no sign of either of you. The only semblance of humanity within the vicinity is Wonwoo, who is sitting at a table, headphones on, laptop open, and typing without a care in the world.

Seungcheol’s eyes dart around the room. Closet. Closet. There’s an indication of a sliding door at the opposite wall. He walks up to it, hesitantly with shaky steps, his heart hammering against his chest. The others inch behind him in caution. Sweat starts trailing down from his forehead. He reaches out for the handle, one hand outstretched, and then—

“I wouldn’t open that if I were you.”

Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the tension. He freezes. They all look back at the man by the desk, unaffectedly writing his documents, the sound of keyboard clicking filling the gaps in the air. “Why?” Seungcheol chokes out. Thunk. Their heads snap back to the closet. He feels Soonyoung clutch him from behind.

“There was yelling from in there until a moment ago,” is Wonwoo’s simple answer. “I think they’ve moved on to something else.”

Another tense pause fills the room. “Who...who was yelling?” Jihoon raises. “What kind of yelling? Why didn’t you check if anything was wrong?”

Wonwoo wrinkles his nose, momentarily taking his eyes off from the laptop to give their huddled group a look of disgust. “And risk walking in on them making out or something? No, thanks.” Then resumes what he’s doing. They all look at each other. Surely, that can’t be the case, right? You’ve got more pride on your shoulders than to fold for Yoon Jeonghan just because of some contrived forced proximity. It’s more likely that you’ve found an opportunity to strangle him. To kill him in cold blood. Which is why they’ve all run here out of concern right now.

“Why would there be yelling if they’re making out?!” Mingyu exclaims, concerned.

“I don’t know the kind things they’re into,” Wonwoo leers at them. “And frankly, I don’t want to know.”

“Then...what are you doing here, hyung?” Vernon prods. “Of all places.”

Once more, Wonwoo stops typing to grace them with an answer. “This is the only spot with good reception.” This feels like a fever dream. Seungcheol does not know what to do. His attention is directed back to the closed closet door, hearing another...thud coming from within. He locks eyes with Seungkwan. And then Mingyu. And then Jihoon. Holy shit. In his four years of Chairmanship over SVT, this, by far, has been his biggest obstacle yet.

The officers before him never warned him about this. What exactly is the best course of action here? What would result in the least amount of emotional, mental, and physical repercussions? Leave the door alone? Unlock it and witness horrors untold? There’s still an event they have to manage. Seokmin is probably freaking out outside right now. Yet here they are, watching the unmoving and locked closet door with uncertainty and caution, like it’s an oracle that will show them the way, that will give them a command to do something. Anything. And, much to their surprise and horror—

“Mr. Chair.”

It does.

“Would you please unlock the door?”

The oracle is wearing the sound of your voice? No, wait. It is your voice. From behind the door. “Holy shit,” he hears one of them hiss out from behind. Holy shit indeed. Seungcheol knows better than to test your temper. Quickly, he reaches out for the handle, clicks it open, and a force stronger than his slides the door gaping and completely open, revealing the dark and until interiors of the closet.

You emerge from the darkness. So does Jeonghan. Alive. Unstrangled. Maybe? That’s up for debate because there are some visible marks on his throat. Seungcheol pretends not to see.

“W—welcome back…?” Soonyoung hesitantly drawls out. You walk out from the closet, Jeonghan trailing behind you slightly from behind. You’re both still wearing the in theme hanboks, but the fabrics are clearly disheveled. And loose. And Jeonghan is hooking his fingers on the hand lagging behind you. And looking at the back of your head with a concerning amount of heart eyes.

You don’t mention a thing about it. “I believe we are behind schedule,” you simply say. “Team building, right? Let’s head off to our posts now.”

They don’t say anything about it either. Seungcheol clears his throat, creaking his body back to the direction of escape. “Y—yes. Everyone is waiting.” The rest follow. You all exit the area except for Wonwoo, who’s still doing his work. When Seungcheol turns back to check on you two— you know, just in case— he immediately regrets it.

Jeonghan is still a step behind you. But he leans slightly forward, dipping his head down to reach your ears. His mouth moves, whispering something. A silent laugh cracks through your features. A laugh. Not once has laughter occurred since the beginning of this predicament. Not a. Single. Instance. You bump your elbow against Jeonghan’s chest. Jeonghan continues to move behind you with a thin smile on his face.

He sees nothing. They see nothing. They leave the house. They immediately scatter to inhale fresh, free air.

“Hyung! Oh my god where have you guys been?! The members are waiting!”

An unspoken agreement was formed. There will be no further mention about this occurrence. Not a single word.

*‎

“TODAY IS SEPTEMBER 27, 20XX. THE MEETING WILL NOW PLEASE COME TO ORDER. Mr. Secretary, please call the roll.”

“Yes, Mr. Chair. Please say ‘present and voting’ once your name is called to be acknowledged.”

It’s the first Executive Board meeting after SVT’s Orientation and Membership Training. The agenda for today is just a feedbacking session on the said event. Seungcheol yawns, not bothering to cover it up with the clipboard and Seungkwan sends him a dirty look for it. Wonwoo carries on with the roll call, one after the after stating their attendance for the meeting today. It’s the same routine for the most part. Seungcheol glances at the empty spaces on both his left and right. He taps on the table with a pen impatiently.

“Secretary, yours truly, present and voting,” Wonwoo drones one. The two seats are still empty. Seungcheol digs his pen into the wooden surface. “Vice Chairperson-External?”

No answer. Wonwoo continues.

“Vice Chairperson-Internal?

Still no answer. Wonwoo continues.

“Chairperson, Mr. Chair?”

“Present,” Seungcheol gruffs. God damn it, where the hell are you and Jeonghan? This feels like a rerun of their group traumatic experience last week. “Proceed.”

“Yes, Mr. Chair. There are twelve out of fourteen officers present. We are in quo—”

The door swings open.

You and Jeonghan enter in a hurry.

“We’re sorry we’re late!”

Again. Seungcheol feels the horrible, wrinkly slap of deja vu. His eyes follow while you and Jeonghan rush to your seats, out of breath and in a hurry. Joshua has stopped flicking origami frogs on the table. Seokmin and Mingyu pause in between chair spins. Junhui’s mouth is glued to the latte straw while darting his eyes wide back and forth, between you and Jeonghan. And Minghao cannot be bothered by any more relationship problems.

Wonwoo clears his throat. “Fourteen out of fourteen officers present, Mr. Chair,” he amends.

“Yes, thank you,” Seungcheol sighs out. “Seeing that we are in quorum, it is now legal for us to conduct business. Mr. Secretary, will you please read to us the agenda for today’s meeting?”

Much to his surprise, the meeting proceeds quite...smoothly. Wonwoo reads out the agenda. No objections. They start the feedbacking session. No problems. The incident with the closet is not even mentioned. Not once. Not even a hint despite the shared knowing looks when Seungcheol asks if there are still more matters to discuss.

“No more, Mr. Chair,” Vernon confirms. Seungcheol nods. This is going awfully well. When’s the curveball going to hit him? When? “Thank you, Mr. Auditor. Since there is nothing else on the agenda, let’s proceed to announcements.” He looks at his clipboard. There’s only one thing scribbled under announcements. It’s not his handwriting. Seungcheol squints. “Lee Chan’s...pool…barbecue...dance party on the 29th?”

There’s a pause. Seungcheol looks up from the clipboard.

“What is this?”

All eyes are on Lee Chan. He looks like he enjoys the attention. “Lee Chan’s pool barbecue dance party on the 29th,” he answers, as a matter of fact. “You’re all invited.”

This is the curveball he’s been expecting. Seungcheol feels a knot in his temples. “How many times do I have to say this?” he releases a heavy breath. “Announcements on the order of business are reserved for org-related announcements. It is not an opportunity for you to invite everyone to your parties, nor to your outings, nor to your nephew’s baptismal shower, Soonyoung.”

The man in question swallows down a gulp. Seungcheol sighs for the nth time.

“I hope that is crystal clear.” He’s so done. He’s so tired. When is adjournment coming? Why can’t it come sooner? “Anyway, do we have any other announcements? Relevant announcements, rather.” Seungcheol sees you with your arm up. He feels a rush of relief. “Yes, Ms. VCE, you are raising your hand?”

You put your hand down, allowing it to rest gingerly on the table when you say, “Thank you for the acknowledgement, Mr. Chair.” You look like your usual self— in between smiling pleasantly and staring blankly. Seungcheol nods, prodding you to continue. You do. “I would like to put the matter of my resignation on today’s table, Mr. Chair.”

“Oh, yes, the matter of your—”

A screeching halt. Seungcheol’s tongue stops working. He stares at you, wide-eyed.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“My resignation.” You pull out a white, ghostly envelope from somewhere. His throat tightens. “I am filing it today and hoping for its immediate attention.”

It’s like time stops completely. The entire office is frozen. They wait for you to say it’s a joke. Any moment now. Please.

“Mr. Chair?” you call out. “Allow me to repeat. I will be resigning from my position as Vice Chairperson-External. What process do we need to undergo to finalize this?”

You don’t say it’s a joke. You are dead serious.

“No?!”

“Did—did I hear that right res—res—resigna—hiccup!”

“Breathe in, Seokmin. Breathe out. Yes that’s—”

“Why would you do this to us?! Why?!”

“Oh my god, it’s happening to me again, it’s happening to me again—”

“What do you mean resignation, what the hell are you talking about?” Seungkwan shoots up from his seat, slamming his palms against the table in distress. “Aren’t you two back together?! Why would you resign?!”

It’s a mess. It’s a room of hysteria and panic except for you, him and Jeonghan. Seungcheol is trying his best to...understand. To not throttle you and shake you violently because why? Where did he go wrong? Has he not been treating you well enough? Did he need to compliment you more? Do you need more compensation?

Whatever the reason is, you’re looking awfully calm being the recipient of manic yells and hyperventilated cries of anguish. Jeonghan, too, is quiet. He’s just seated there, arms on the armrest, like he is in a completely different room altogether. Seungcheol narrows his eyes at him. Did he do this? Did he talk you into resigning? That bastard— how could he! Seungcheol’s heart is broken, not just once, but twice. First, from his dearest protege. Second, from his (formerly) trusted right hand man.

“Ahem.”

Before things could get worse (i.e. Soonyoung and Seokmin full-on sobbing and begging on their knees), you catch their attention. You look at them, calmly, and, with a carefully enunciated voice, begin your piece that brings all of them to silence.

“I sincerely apologize for the trouble that our personal issues have caused to SVT,” you begin, a singular glance at Jeonghan. Seungcheol bites his tongue. Traitor. Evil man. Evil jealous man. “I am well aware that my recent behavior has led to some lapses in the organization’s operations, clearly seen in the management of our latest event. We have all heard the feedback, the concerns—where things went wrong. As you have witnessed, it is quite difficult for us to separate our personal feelings from our professional work here in the org, which was the root of most of our experienced problems.”

That is not true! No one has the best work-life balance than you! Granted, there was an issue just earlier in the month, but Seungcheol can overlook that! He can overlook it as long as you take back your resignation, and take on his spot as Chairperson next semester!

“Which is exactly why I’m resigning,” you decisively say. Shit. “There were a lot of…ingredients that eventually led to the unforeseen outburst between Mr. VCI and I during one of our previous meetings. One of those ingredients was my affiliation with the organization. The rest of the details can be found in my resignation letter. Thank you for allowing me to serve thus far.”

It’s like a needle pricked most everyone in the room and left them deflated. Chan looks sunken. Even Jihoon. Minghao just looks like he’d been expecting this. Kim Mingyu looks like he cannot accept this.

So he jerks out of his seat, springing to his feet, and points an accusatory finger at Yoon Jeonghan.

“You!” Mingyu shrieks. “Say something!”

“Hyung,” Seokmin adds onto the pile. He’s choked up and about to cry. “Are you just gonna let this happen?”

For the first time since, Jeonghan finally speaks up. But his tone is…sourer than expected. “What do you want me to say?” he starts. It makes everyone jolt. “That you’ve been overworking my girlfriend since freshman year to the point that we started arguing about it because she’s been skipping meals and sleep and taking care of herself just to manage the org?”

Even you flinch. There’s an apologetic look on your face, but there’s no denial.

Jeonghan lets out a sigh. Oh, Seungcheol realizes. Oh. Oh, crap. Maybe. Maybe he and SVT had a lot more to do with your breakup that he initially thought. The workload. The shit you had to catch and bury with your bare hands whenever the org had problems, had too much to do, had one person in mind to fix up any messes made. Maybe they’ve been relying on you too much. Maybe he’s been relying on you too much and Yoon Jeonghan noticed that.

Of course Jeonghan would notice that. He’s been dating you under their nose for god knows how long. That explains why Jeonghan would suddenly act pissy towards him. It was whenever you’d been tossed in a sinkhole of work.

Once more, you clear your throat. “I have immense attachment to this organization. However, my priorities have shifted. I am sincerely grateful and sorry, but I hope all of you understand.”

It starts clicking inside each head, one-by-one. It’s slow. It’s hard to accept, but they eventually do. Seokmin eventually stops sniffling. Soonyoung stands up to give you a hug. This was a loss for all of them. All of them except you and Yoon Jeonghan.

“Hyung, but why aren’t you resigning?”

Jun pokes the bear one last time. It’s a question in all their heads, and Jeonghan’s expression alone isn’t enough to answer it.

“Jun-ah, do you want me gone?” Jeonghan replies, a little too seriously. They freeze. Then he laughs. “It’s going to be difficult to re-elect someone at this point, so I’ll be taking over some of her workload for the remainder of the semester. The rest of you should do the same as one last thank you to our now outgoing VCE. You owe her that much, at least.”

Before Jeonghan can start nagging, you quickly overtake his field of vision from his left. “Don’t worry, I’ll be finishing up my pending tasks, Mr. Chair. I will also be leaving some notes behind for everyone’s ease of—”

“What did I tell you about being more considerate to yourself?” the one from his rightbutts in. “These kids can handle it on their own. You don’t have to micromanage them. I’m begging you, stop overworking yourself.”

Okay, he sharply inhales through his nose. Seungcheol gets it. They all get it. No need to act all sweet in front of their faces and during org hours. It’s sending shivers down his spine. All of their spines. None of this spine shivering is healthy. “Please leave your resignation letter on the table. We will give some time for the other officers to read and consider it before making a final decision during the next meeting.”

You smile. “Thank you, Mr. Chair.”

“Thank you for your service, Ms. VCE.”

It hurts him to say this. It really does. You were the perfect successor. Now, who the hell from this pile of twelve men is he supposed to pick to be the next Chairperson? Does he have to— god forbid— retain his position?

Seungcheol lets out a sigh.

“Meeting adjourned. You are all dismissed.”

the breakup soup. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

2K notes · View notes

kakujis · 9 months

Text

ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.

and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.

synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.

warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.

ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k

@enchantedforest-network

an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.

gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back.

but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you.

he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad.

imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him.

“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.”

he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest.

the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility.

you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.

“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!”

but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right?

you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction.

for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root.

“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually.

you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t.

he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.”

“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door.

he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights.

gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles.

when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.

hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening.

maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know.

there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.

okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart.

”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.”

to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that.

he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.

his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow.

“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face.

a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away.

the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you.

“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind.

he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely.

you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass.

his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin.

hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely.

“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs.

the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy.

you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet.

he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying.

it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.

he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.

your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.

"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks.

“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours.

“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair.

“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him.

“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.

he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it.

“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling.

“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”

“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still.

“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home?

he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?”

you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea.

“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up.

you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“

“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.”

you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way.

your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet.

you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.

“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?”

“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again.

“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.”

you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in.

“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.”

“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets.

“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”

gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage.

huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night.

but that’s not-

it is. check your phone.

oh, i guess it… is?

c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day.

and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going.

leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time.

it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out.

but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again.

his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.

“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength.

“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember.

with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine.

it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him.

“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you.

even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans.

“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”

you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up.

“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code.

his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end.

he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy.

you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off.

“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands.

he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image.

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?”

you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze.

your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.”

gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.

but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.

with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?”

“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love.

“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.”

“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.”

the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?”

you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again.

he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far.

“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?”

you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs.

“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.”

“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.”

“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.”

there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock.

“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too.

that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?”

you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek.

“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.”

he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time.

“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.”

“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.”

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #cw yandere #cw cheating #cw dubcon #pibby writing

1K notes · View notes

letsgetrowdy43 · 26 days

Text

Just a few months—

Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: 🐞 Heyyy can I request this prompt "Your lover kisses you goodbyes as usual, but when they start going towards the door, you run towards them and give them another deep kiss" with Luke Hughes ☺️

Warnings/notes: I'm a sucker for soft Luke...

End of summer celebration!!

There was nothing quite as depressing as the agony of watching the summer nights blend back into the schedule of the school year. The quiet passing of time and ticking of the clock as mid-August turns into early September. Which led to now, the long-awaited moment of separating from loved ones as schedules get busy and distances get longer after months of being attached at the hip.

Luke quietly organized all the girl's kitchen utensils as she found the perfect spot on the counter for each appliance. The silence of the looming departure and the fact that her three roommates had still not arrived settled in the empty space as the clock ticked.

In just a short hour the child would be saying their last goodbye until her Christmas break when he would fly her out to Jersey for a few days. They'd see each other a few other times, like when he played in Detroit or when would she commute out to Columbus to spend the night with him and see the game.

But from now until her graduation in April their love would exist miles apart from each other, manifested in phone calls, little packages in the mail to one another, and the occasional Facetime.

It was never ideal, always a challenge, but it was a sacrifice they were willing to make for another year before she packed up her life in Michigan and made the move to be with him. But there was always a future ahead of them, and that kept the spark alive.

Quiet tears welled in her eyes as she watched the concentration on his face as he placed all her forks in their respective spots, chewing the inside of his lip as he looked up to see the sad look that had washed over her face. He had long forgotten the cutlery and made his way over to her, his arms wrapping around her as he hugged her and her arm full of knit dishrags to his chest.

"What's got you all upset?" "Gonna miss you so much," she sobbed as she let go of all the clothes and wrapped herself around the boy, face buried in his soft t-shirt as he gently swayed them in an attempt to calm her down.

She let out a wet laugh at how dramatic she must look, "I just hate being so far from you," she shrugged as one of his hands wiped away the tears and mascara that tainted her perfect rosy cheeks. "It's gonna suck so bad," he agreed, "but we did it last year, and we only have the last year to go, so really this is like the home stretch."

His words were not overly helpful but she smiled at his lame attempts, pressing a kiss to his chest as he continued to sway them back and forth.

"And think about it, I'll be back here the second I can get on a flight for your grad." "What about Playoffs?" "Well we will cross that road when we get to it, but I will be here to see graduate, and then you'll come back with me to Jersey and we can go look at apartments and you'll be in grad school," he made everything sound so simple, which was far from the case, but to know he had some faith in the two of them felt nice.

"We have a plan, just got to make it to the end of this school year and will have the rest of our lives together," he mumbled before cupping the side of her tear-stained cheeks and pressing kisses to her temple and then a slow one to her lips before his phone began to ring in his back pocket.

His alarm goes off, voicing that he needs to head home to pack before his flight tonight.

Her bottom lip wobbled as his eyes glossed over slightly, "I love you," he mumbled into her hairline as she nodded and leaned into his lips. She pulled away momentarily to stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips, a long, delicate, a little rushed kiss that spoke more than words could as his hand travelled down to the small of her back and hers found his tone forearms. "I love you too," she said in between kisses as he pulled away and pressed his forehead against hers.

He dipped his head down to press a kiss to her cheek before holding her flush against his chest one last time, "I really need to go," he sighed as he nodded and pulled away. her hands whipped away her tears as he collected his things, leaving his sweater behind for her, a little surprise for later.

"Call me when you get home okay? And tell the boys I hope they have safe flights home," she said with a sad smile, as his hand caught hers and squeezed it one last time. "I will, and they told me to tell you to have a fun year," she smiled at the thought of the boys who had basically been somewhat of brothers to her wishing her well.

He took off in the direction of the door, not wanting to add anything else and make the two of them upset again. As the door clicked shut behind him, the silence that filled the room felt heavy, suffocating. She stood there for a moment, staring at the door, her heart aching with the sudden emptiness that occupied the room around her.

But something inside her refused to let this be the way they parted.

Without thinking, she rushed toward the door, her feet moving faster than her mind could keep up with. She yanked it open and bolted down the hallway, her breath coming in quick, desperate gasps. “Luke!” she called out, her voice trembling with urgency as she sped walked down the hallway.

He had barely made it to the stairwell when he heard her. He turned, surprised, his brows furrowed in concern. But before he could say anything, she was there, flinging herself into his arms for one last dramatic goodbye.

“I didn't like that goodbye, I couldn’t let you leave like that,” she whispered, her voice shaky as she clung to him. She pulled his face down to hers and pressed her lips to his, a kiss that was fierce, full of emotion, a kiss that told him everything she couldn’t put into words.

It was a kiss that tasted of longing, of love, of the fear of the months they’d have to spend apart.

Luke’s arms wrapped around her instantly, holding her tightly against him as he kissed her back with equal intensity and as cliche as it sounded there was no love in the world that amount to the one he held for the girl in his arms.

When they finally pulled away, breathless, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing together as they stood there, unwilling to let go.

“Promise me you’ll be okay,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. She nodded, her hands cupping his face as she whispered back, “As long as you promise to come back to me.” “I promise."

They lingered for a moment longer, soaking in the warmth of each other’s presence before he finally pulled back. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, then reluctantly let her go. “I’ll call you as soon as I get on the highway,” he promised one last time, his hand squeezing hers gently before he turned and headed down the stairs.

This time, she didn’t follow him.

She stood there, watching until he was out of sight, her heart aching but filled with the certainty that they would make it through this last stretch of being apart. And with one last sigh, she turned back to her apartment, the lingering warmth of his kiss still on her lips.

#rowan’s end of summer celly!!#luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine

314 notes · View notes

pedrospatch · 2 years

Text

lean on me

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: It's been three months since you and Joel left your baby daughter with Bill and Frank in Lincoln; you aren't coping well and Joel tries to help you get through it.

pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA ((TW)) though it is not explicitly stated, it is implied reader is suffering from postpartum depression. mentions of being unable to breastfeed. angst, hurt, comfort, tiniest hint of fluff at the end.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: this was only meant to be a short drabble, but it ended up getting longer than i anticipated. sorry for more angst.

September, 2020

Joel had known things would get bad.

But he hadn’t expected for them to get this fucking bad.

He glanced across the table at Tess, quietly asking, “She eat today?”

Tess let out a small sigh, shaking her head. “Nope.” She picked up her chipped, ceramic mug and took a sip of crappy, two decades old dark roast coffee and stated, “She didn’t eat anything yesterday, either. Or the day before that or the one before that. I can barely get her to take a fucking sip of water these days.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Tess! We can’t just sit around watchin’ her starve herself,” he hissed at her, his hands curling into fists on the table.

She shot him an irritated look. “You think I don’t know that already?”

“Tess—”

“What are we going to do, Joel? Pin her down and force feed her?”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in a tight, thin line. He glanced over at you with a heavy, sinking feeling inside of his chest at the mere sight of your current state.

You were sitting on the bed in the same pair of gray sweatpants you’d been wearing for the last couple of days, your knees pulled up to your chest as you stared blankly, vacantly, out of the window beside you at absolutely nothing. You were beginning to appear frail—the current tone of your skin was so dull, so washed out that anybody who took one glance at you would probably think that you had spent your entire life locked away in some basement, never having seen the fucking sunshine before. The pallor of your skin was only emphasized by the dark, bruise-like circles underneath your eyes, courtesy of the long and sleepless nights you’d been having, especially lately.

You had fallen deep into a sadness, a darkness—one so deep that you had become nothing but a mere shadow of your former self. You were an empty shell of a human being and it was starting to scare the fucking shit out of Joel.

“Maybe if we took her to see the baby?” Tess suggested, quietly. She took another sip of her coffee and then set her mug down. “Frank has been wondering why you two haven’t been over there to see her. Hell, even Bill is curious why I’ve been going over there alone.” After having done some digging around, Tess managed to find someone in the QZ who had helped her get her hands on homemade infant formula; it was worth gold and only ever went to officials of a higher ranking who could actually afford it. Somehow, she’d pulled a few strings and the next thing Joel knew, Tess was loading a pack full of cans to take over to Lincoln. She’d made a couple more trips since then, and each time, she had gone alone. “It’s been over three months, Joel. Maybe it’s finally time—maybe it would help her.”

“In her condition?” Joel shook his head, adamantly. “No. For one, she wouldn’t fuckin’ make it a mile down the road before collapsing—from exhaustion, from starvation, you name it. And even if she could make the trip somehow, the truth is, she’s not ready to see her.” He lowered his voice to keep you from overhearing him, although at this point, he was certain that you were too zoned out to even pay attention. Every word was probably going in through one ear and out the other. “I hate to say it, but she’s just not strong enough to see her yet, Tess.”

“And what about you, Texas? What’s your excuse?”

He glared at her. “You really think I can leave her here alone in a state like this while we go skippin’ off to Lincoln together?”

“Good point.” Tess paused and peered curiously at him. “You haven’t even told her what they named her, have you?”

“Don’t think that’s such a good idea right now, either.” Joel held back a heavy sigh as he looked down into his own mug of shitty coffee. A huge part of him wished that she hadn’t told him what Bill and Frank ended up naming the baby. Since then, his daughter’s name echoed in the back of his mind, over and over again, damn near constantly.

“Joel, if we don’t do something, she’s going to wind up—” Tess could see his jaw clench again and she stopped herself, choosing her words more carefully. “She’s walking on thin ice. She’s not eating, she’s not sleeping. She’s already been in lockup twice this week alone because she can’t even keep up with work detail anymore. I know this is hard for you to hear, but if something doesn’t change soon, things are only going to get worse from here—she’ll get worse. You’re the only one of the two of us who actually has a chance of getting through to her and you need to fucking do something.”

“Tess, I’ve tried—”

“Well fucking try harder, Joel. If you don’t, you’ll fucking lose her. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Joel rubbed his face tiredly with both of his hands. He knew it was nothing but the truth that she was speaking, but goddamn the truth fell onto his shoulders heavy, almost too heavy. It felt as though he were carrying the weight of the entire fucking planet. But she was right. If something wasn’t done, he was going to lose you. “Tess, you mind if I have a minute alone with her?”

She nodded and took one last gulp of coffee before standing up from the table. “Yeah. I have to go see Robert and a couple of his buffoons about something anyway.” As she walked past him towards the door, she stopped and tossed him a pointed look. “Maybe today is the day that you finally decide to give her that thing that you’ve been carrying around in your pocket,” she suggested. “We went through a lot of shit for it, Joel. It’s the reason we have been drinking crappier coffee than usual for the last two weeks.”

He nodded, watching her as she grabbed her jacket and left.

After a minute or two, Joel finally pushed himself away from the table and rose to his feet. He made his way over to you, and he wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised at how you didn’t turn to acknowledge him despite the sound of his heavy boots on the creaking hardwood floor. He said your name as he came closer to you, but you remained as still as a stone statue, your eyes still fixed outside of the window.

“Alright,” he said, standing next to you at the side of the bed, both of his hands placed firmly on his hips. “Enough is fuckin’ enough. I can’t and I won’t let you keep carryin’ on like this. Either you get up and get your ass over to that table and eat somethin’ or I’m going to pick you up off of this bed, take you over there, and feed you myself. And don’t think I won’t. I’ll tie you down to the chair if that’s what I’ve gotta do.”

Finally, you turned to look at him. You spoke, your voice sounding just as fragile as you looked. “I’m not hungry.”

Joel’s expression immediately softened.

Fuck.

He couldn’t be tough on you, not in the state you were in—he thought being hard on you would be the way to get through to you, but he just didn’t have it in him to be stern with you, not when you were like this.

“Baby. Please.” He knelt down beside you, reaching for your hand. He winced at how frigid your hand felt in his palm, as if he were holding a block of ice. He brought his other hand up and placed it on top, doing his best to warm it up with both of his. “Look, I get it. I know that you miss her. I know that you’re hurtin’ over her. You might not think I get it, but I do.” He paused, feeling sick to his stomach upon noticing the lifelessness in your eyes. He almost wished that he could see you cry, because at least he would know for certain that you were still in there somewhere—but Joel hadn’t seen you shed a single tear since you’d broken down sobbing in his arms that night in Lincoln. “You just can’t keep goin’ on like this. You don’t eat, you’ve barely slept in weeks. You keep fallin’ behind with all your work assignments and you’ve landed yourself in lockup more times than I can fuckin’ count because of it.”

You simply shrugged, as if you couldn’t give two shits about any of it.

Joel managed to bite back his sigh of frustration. He knew that losing his temper would do nothing more than sink you further into the hole you were currently in. But he was angry. He was just so fucking angry about about everything. Here you were, just slipping right through his fucking fingers, slowly fading away right before his own two eyes and he didn’t know what to do to stop it from happening. He felt lost. He felt hopeless—useless.

He squeezed your hand out of desperation. He would fucking plead if he had to. “I need you to fuckin’ snap out of it. Please,” he begged, as he continued holding your hand tightly, holding onto it as if he were holding onto dear life itself. “Please, for the love of fuckin’ god, I need you to just snap out of it. If not for yourself, fuckin’ do it for me—do it for her.”

“Snap out of it?” You repeated. “You want me to just snap out of it?”

“Baby, please just listen to me for one goddamn second—”

You snatched your hand out of both of his. “I can’t just fucking snap out of it, Joel!” You nearly shouted at him, speaking the loudest he’d heard you speak in several weeks. “Alright? I can’t snap out of it! My heart is shattered into pieces, don’t you fucking understand that?”

“‘Course I do. Givin’ her up was hard for me too,” he reminded you quietly, resisting the urge to match your tone.

“And I don’t deny that,” You prefaced yourself. “I know it was hard on you too, Joel. But you’re not the one who came this close, this damn fucking close to aborting her.” You held up your index finger and your thumb close together. You’d started trembling as everything seemed to catch up to you all at once—sleep deprivation, malnourishment and of course, the emotions you had been bottling up inside of you for the last three months. “You’re not the one who carried her inside of your womb for almost nine months, who felt every one of her flutters and her kicks. You’re not the one who had to go through the excruciating pain of giving birth to her in this crumbling apartment, only to have to place her in someone else’s arms and leave her behind three days later. You’re not the one who had to deal with the aftermath, Joel. Do you know how much it fucking hurt not to be able to feed her? How much it fucking sucked to have to wait for your milk supply to dry up because you no longer had a baby to feed?”

For the first time in a long time, Joel was left speechless.

He didn’t know what to say. Hell, there was nothing he could say.

Because you were absolutely fucking right.

None of what you’d just said to him was a lie. Of course he knew that giving the baby up had been a hundred times harder on you than it’d been on him—mentally, emotionally, and even physically. He thought back to the nights when he would see you sitting there with your own arms wrapped around your chest, knowing you were aching, knowing that although you said nothing about it, you were in unbearable pain from being unable to breastfeed.

And what could he do about it?

Not a goddamn fucking thing.

Still, Joel had tried. He always made the attempt to comfort you, only to be shot down time and time again. He’d been so used to being the one who rejected any kind of support that, when the tables had been turned on him, he hadn’t known how to handle it. Joel could feel the guilt slowly creeping in as he wondered if perhaps he just hadn’t tried hard enough for you. He was your partner—it was his duty to take care of you, to look out for you, to protect you, and yet here he was, failing to do any of that.

He could have done more.

He should have done more.

Especially after all the friction he’d caused from the beginning of your pregnancy. From letting you go to those crooked motherfuckers for a procedure that could have cost you your life, down to the way he had treated you the night you’d brought up Sarah, it seemed as though all Joel had been doing was fucking up, time after time.

Seeing the expression on Joel’s face, you immediately knew what he must have been thinking. Your eyes widened and you quickly uttered a nearly breathless apology. “Joel, I’m so fucking sorry—”

He stopped you, tightly shaking his head. “No, don’t be. It’s true, it’s all fuckin’ true.”

Finally, after three months of bone-dry eyes, a warm tear slipped out, falling down the side of your face. Your entire body shuddered as the flood gates opened and more followed in suit, each one falling faster, harder than the last. The next thing you knew, Joel had pulled himself up onto the mattress beside you, pulling you into his arms just as you had started sobbing. With one hand, he delicately cradled the back of your head as you cried and cried into his shoulder. The other rubbed a soothing circle into your back over and over again.

And just like that night in Lincoln, Joel just held you, waiting patiently as you finally allowed yourself to release each and every single one of your emotions out into the open. He didn’t say a word to you, nor did he attempt to stop the tears—he just held you close, merely using his touch to silently let you know that he would wait as long as he had to until you were finished.

“Joel,” You sniffed his name, your hands clutching fistfuls of his shirt.

“I’m right here, baby,” he assured you, holding you even closer against him, as close as humanly possible. His heartbeat was right in your ear and you closed your eyes, listening to it and letting it calm you. “I told you I wasn’t gonna let you carry this pain alone, darlin’. You remember that?”

You nodded against his chest, whispering, “I remember.”

“Well then, you’ve gotta let me help you,” Joel said into your hair. “For three months, I’ve been tryin’ but you just keep pushin’ me away. It doesn’t work like that. I need you to lean on me. I need for you to let me back in and help you because the road you’re headin’ down right now is a dangerous one.”

Opening your eyes, you pulled away from him slightly, just far enough to meet his worried gaze. You could see the absolute fucking hell that you had been putting him through and felt your heart clench painfully inside of your chest. “I know I can’t keep going on like this, Joel,” You admitted softly to him. “Believe me, I know that. I tried so hard to get a fucking grip. There have been so many days where I think to myself, today is the day that I’m going to get my shit together. But then I just think of her sweet and innocent little face and I just fall apart all over again.” You muffled another sob with the palm of your hand.

“Oh, baby.” He gave your body a gentle, but firm squeeze. If he could take your pain away, all of it, and carry it along with his own, he would do it in a fucking heartbeat.

You swallowed harshly. “I know she is far better off where she is, Joel, I know that she is. I never want her falling into the hands of FEDRA. It kills me to think of her being here in this shitty fucking place, going to their shitty fucking school.” Your voice broke at the mere thought of it all. “We know what would happen, Joel. As soon as she comes of age and meets their requirement, they will put her through their recruiting program. After her training, they either deem her worthy of becoming a fucking ruthless officer or they will give her the shittiest civilian jobs making her work for scraps of nothing, the same way they do to us.”

Joel sighed, rubbing your back again. “I know, baby. I know. It’s why we did what we did. We did what we had to do to spare her from that shit.”

“But then there’s this selfish part of me that wants her back so badly, so fucking badly that it makes me fucking ache,” You confessed, guilt lacing your tone of voice. “I just want the hurt to stop. I want to be at peace with the decision that we made, but the way I miss her, it feels almost impossible. I feel like I’ll never be able to accept that this is the way things have to be.”

“You have to accept it—we have to accept it. We ain’t got a choice,” Joel spoke the truth to you as gently as he could, though he knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

“I know,” You whispered, your eyes glazing over with fresh tears.

He stared at you for a moment and then pressed his lips against your forehead. Deciding it was time to show you what he’d been keeping a secret from you, Joel reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small, crumpled up wad of brown tissue paper. With one of his arms still around you, he used both of his hands to unwrap the tissue paper only to reveal a delicate silver chain—a bit too old to be shiny, but still in good shape nonetheless. Joel picked it up and tossed the tissue off to the side. He held it up in front of you to give you a better look at it.

A single white pearl hung from the chain.

“Joel, where did you get this?” You gasped lightly, taking it from him with trembling fingers. You didn’t even want to know what the hell he must have had to do or trade for it. Sure, jewelry was one of the most useless items that anyone could possess in this world because it no longer had any monetary value, but if someone wanted something bad enough and another person had it, then advantage was going to be taken somewhere, somehow.

“Don’t you worry ‘bout that, darlin’.”

You glanced up at him, an incredulous look in your eyes. “Joel.”

He almost chuckled, knowing you wouldn't let him off that easy. “I’d mentioned to Tess that I wanted to get you somethin’ special to carry around with you, somethin’ that would remind you of her. Tess said a pearl was the birthstone for June, and so I asked her to help me find one a few weeks ago. She found some guy and I cut a deal for it. But that’s all I’m tellin’ you.”

Joel took the necklace from you and beckoned for you to turn around for him. Moving your hair aside, he reached around you and clasped it at the back of your neck. “I’d rather only you wear it when you’re here in the apartment. Once you go outside, it stays hidden in your pocket so no one sees it, alright?”

You turned back around to face him. “I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe you did this for me, Joel.” You reached for his hands and held them tightly in your own as you shot him a sincere, grateful look. “Thank you.”

He leaned forward, lightly brushing his mouth against yours. “Baby?”

“Yes?” You murmured against his lips.

Joel squeezed your hands, hesitating for a moment before he said, “I know I’ve only ever said it to you once—that night. Outside of Bill and Frank’s place. But I need you to know that I love you. The truth is, I’ve been lovin’ you for a long time now. Never had it in me to admit it, not even to myself.” His eyes met yours in such a tender way that you felt a part of your broken heart begin to heal itself. It was just a small part, and you knew that unless you had your daughter back, it would never mend itself completely. Still, it was enough to give you a sense of hope. It was just enough to remind you that you would be able to find the strength in you to survive this pain. If you had any reason to keep going, it was right there it front of you. It was Joel. “I love you. I’m gonna do everythin’ that I can to help you through this. All you’ve gotta do is lean on me, alright?”

“I love you, Joel.” Though you’d said it to him once before, it still felt a bit foreign to say out loud.

It felt right, though. And it felt right hearing him say it to you.

Reaching up, you lightly clasped the pearl in your hand. You leaned into Joel’s chest and felt him wrap his arms around you.

“Y’know,” Joel said, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen over you, “Tess said Frank’s been wondering why we haven’t been over to see her yet. I know it might still be a bit too soon for you, but—” He let his sentence trail.

Though he didn’t say it out loud, you could hear it in his voice.

He wanted to see the baby.

“I’m not ready for that just yet,” You admitted. “I want to see her more than anything, but look at me. I’m a fucking mess.” You paused, clutching onto the pearl a little tighter. “Maybe we can try in a few weeks? What do you think?”

Joel kissed the top of your head. “Soon as you’re ready, say the word and we’ll go.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller hbo #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x wife!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #fic: tdtrt

3K notes · View notes

thisismeracing · 7 months

Text

Your time | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x singer!reader ― Warnings: mentions of cheating; lots of rumors about lewis being an a*hole; mentions of juliana nalu and shakira, but all fictional. ― Summary: A couple months after the biggest breakup in the F1 paddock, your song gets leaked and the internet uproars about your relationship again. This time they have more ammunition than ever to feed the narrative that Lewis Hamilton cheated on you. Are they right though? (based on this request).

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

September, 2023

paddockgossip

liked by ynfan, haileybieber, and others

paddockgossip how would you guys feel if your man goes out with another singer and looks this cozy while you’re out there on tour working your ass off? 👀

view all comments

sunshineyn you know shits real when her friend hailey likes the post…

⤷ pinterestyln I thought the same

leclercnation you guys forgot to add that yn and shakira aren’t friends, were never seem together, couldnt bother to talk about one another, yet this is the second time we see her around lewis this week…

randuser @ yourusername bestie come get your man!

schumakatchau this looks oddly like a double date

raintyres GUYS HIS HAND PLACEMENT!!! HES HOLDING SHAKIRAS WAIST 😭😭😭😭

tomdayastan my girl Yn doesn’t deserve this

evansnature are you guys really that surprised? He’s a man, I expect anything from a man

January, 2024

February, 2024

f1wagsupdate

liked by pierregasly, mbappeworld, and others

f1wagsupdate According to our sources Yn Yln and Lewis Hamilton broke up ealier this month. There is not an official reason yet, but most fans believe that cheating was the cause of the downfall of the four-years-long relationship.

view all comments

user44 is true love even real?

gomezracing I hate it in here

drugobitch what if its because of the cheating rumors?

⤷ rand32 but why would she wait weeks after it?

likedbypgasly and so it goes the best wag of the paddock :(

mclarenmason did you guys see that thread someone made about Yn's looks on the paddock and her cheering for lew, and them matching sometimes *sobs into my hands*

yourusername

liked by roscoelovescoco, k.mbappe, and others

yourusername making music and enjoying some free time after touring 💞

view all comments

mbappeworld I wish Lewis and Kyllian weren’t friends bc I kinda ship him with Yn 😭

hailyebieber 😍😍😍😍

sza waiting for our collabbbbb! ❤️

⤷ ynfan the day these two write a song together is the day I’ll be stuck in my room crying for a week straight

ynnation She looks so relaxed, more than when she was with Lewis

hardtyres_ I wish I could be like this after being cheated on, when my ex did this to me I had to go to therapy for at least a year before going back on social media

⤷ agoradoja there’s no proof he cheated on her

⤷ winteryln sure, except for the hundreds of pics of him with singers and models 😍 but y’all taking it too serious, he was just friendly with them

⤷ agoradoja maybe he was just friendly, Lewis is famous, dare I say even more than Yn, so being friends with different famous people is part of his life.

⤷ bonoschumi I’ll have to agree with agoradoja, there’s nothing too incriminatinf, maybe we’re just trying to find a reason because we don’t accept that they fell out of love

⤷ leclercmcqueen she literally wrote “its just us against the world” for him, wdym they fell out of love????

bieberfantasy yeah but how about roscoe liking the post????? It's making me hopeful

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! It was kinda short, but hopefully worth the reading :D let me know your thoughts!

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercsluv @graciewrote @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a @love4lando @woozarts @namgification @formulaal @v1naco @skepvids @khaylin27 @bernelflo @fakehappy27

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

― Reminder: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

474 notes · View notes

anadiasmount · 8 months

Text

now it's real - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: continuation of the "is this real?" parts! based on this request i received where jude gets the biggest surprise of all... can be real as a standalone also!!

wc: 1.6k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: hiiii!! when the anon asked me to do this I HAD TOOO!! you can find part one and part two here of the "is this real?" series! the fic has an insta au and story included all in one, like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, gioreyna, jobebellingham, yourbsf, otherbsf, erlinghaaland, others.

ynusername: a one of a kind surprise 🤍

comments:

username290: HIS EARS!!!

judebellingham: family keeps growing, your welcome baby 🤍🙏

↪️ ynusername: best surprise ever :(((

gioreyna: coming over asap. going to teach him how to attack jude when he's being mean 👍👍

↪️ jobebellingham: i second guess this 👍

jobebellingham: 'its a german shepherd dog!' congrats you two! ❤️

user473: STOPP HES SO CUTE AND FLUFFYY

username33: aww :(( what's his name??

↪️ ynusername: his name is duke!!

user22: baby face!! he is so adorableeeeee

—————————

judebellingham

liked by: ynusername, gioreyna, jobebellingham, marcoreus, jadonsancho, and 1,787,230.

judebellingham: when all he knows is how to play, bite, eat, and sleep 🙄🙄

comments:

ynusername: he's just a baby, let him be!! 😡😡

↪️ judebellingham: i wonder who he learns it from?? he's literally attached to you.

gioreyna: #attackingjudetrainingclasses are going very well i seem??

↪️ ynusername: they are indeed 🤭🤭

user44: stop his little floppy ears ❤️

username245: his tongue peeking out white he sleeps 😭😭

↪️ ynusername: just like jude fr 😂🤍

jobebellingham: why does he kinda look like you??

↪️ judebellingham: bc he's my kid obviously 😒

↪️ ynusername: our kid ***

username282: stop he has grown sm since the last time we saw him!!

user485: that second picture looks personal? what did you to do him jude??

—————————

old ynusername stories from "duke's🌎 "

august 21' | september 21'' | december 21'

—————————

old judebellingham stories from "y/n and duke 🤍"

october 22' | january 23' | may 23'

—————————

“you know duke, if this is positive you’ll be a big brother right?” you say biting your nails, sitting in the carpet and scratching behind his ears, your words making him tense and bark. “yep. means you’ll have to protect another human, but it means more treats!” you say excited his tail wagging.

“i’m scared… this is scary duke… if i’m pregnant i don’t know how i’ll tell jude,” you frown, feeling duke set his head on your lap looking up at you. you had been feeling the symptoms for a month. constant nausea and headaches, taking naps earlier than usual, duke following you everywhere when he didn’t need to, or getting protective when someone came near you.

you had also missed your period, realizing that when you look at the box of pads/ tampons under the sink. you felt the random wave of emotions, the tiredness and aching back even after having a nice and relax day. all you needed was the test to confirm it. to confirm your worries and feelings.

as you felt anticipated, something inside you also felt panic. carrying a baby for nine months, the labor and delivery, the long road of recovery and now taking care for two. you’ve wanted to be a mom as long as you could remember, but now that reality was hitting, it made you overthink.

overthinking if you’d be enough for you and your baby, also jude and duke. being supportive even during the hard times especially now with jude. any traceable though ran through your head. but despite that, you were ready. you were young, had a stable job, a perfect relationship, and supportive family and friends. it was the perfect time to go from a family of three to four.

duke huffed and followed you to the restroom, waiting by the door as you took a breath of nervousness and tapped your nails against the marble counter. you needed to be sure, so you took three tests to make sure they all had the same result. tears were already beaming in your eyes, before you could even remove the box on top the tests.

with shaky hands and now shivers running along your body, you saw the plus sign and the double lines. you struggled a laugh and broke into tears excitedly. grabbing three of tests and looking at them closely to ensure you weren’t dreaming or your head playing games with you.

“duke! we’re having a baby! a baby inside me now! now wonder you followed me everywhere,” you say sarcastic, leaning down and placing kisses on his head, tail wagging. “i can’t believe it… me and jude are having a baby,” you say breathless looking out into the room and already picturing a crib and small stand where diapers and baby towels would be.

you pictured jude sitting on the bed, reading a story, kissing their cheeks, tucking them to sleep, making them laugh until they squealed or snorted. you brought a hand to your barely bump, rubbing it smoothly and feeling a wave of confidence and excitement run through you.

“let’s go! we need to find a perfect shirt to tell jude!”

you ended up taking duke to a local pet store, picking out a small bandana that mentioned he was going to be a big brother. then going to a crafts store to get a box and some paint, along with some confeti strips to place inside. the last thing to do was find a small real madrid jersey and baby replicas of jude’s iconic red predator boots he wore for his games.

you decide to wait it along to see if jude could fit the pieces together. not drinking coffee or refusing wine when he offered when eating dinner. declining a sushi date and going out to eat at one of your favorite outdoor spots in the city. saying no to going on a hike because you were afraid of falling or getting hurt before you could see the doctor.

jude couldn’t even see right through it. understanding maybe you were busy or tired after being at work. or giving you a small frown when you had to say no. or give you a confused face when you randomly eat your cravings. if there was one thing about jude, is that he is the slowest person, so of course he didn’t see this coming.

“you got not only an assist but goal as well tonight baby,” you say kissing his hand as you waited in the taxi to go home. to say you were nervous was an understatement. you were absolutely mortified to tell jude but you figured today would be the perfect night. after a special night in the bernabeu, you figured why not tell him.

“i’m feeling very much proud and in the mood for some celebration drinks. what do you say hmm? we open a bottle of wine and cuddle? maybe in time for some celebratory sex?” he teased kissing below your ear making you squirm. “jude!” you say refraining yourself, heat building up your cheeks and chest.

“what? i’d love to celebrate with my beautiful girlfriend tonight, and i will because i not only had an assist but winning goal,” jude smirked reciting your words in a teasing and flirty manner, making you hit his chest shyly. “ok keep the act up… you know you want it too,” he said turning away looking forward where the fans yelled his name and cheered.

you leaned up and kissed his cheek, grabbing his face and whispering an “i love you.” jude was in a daze, completely enamored by your beauty. drowning himself into your eyes and bright smile. you had this new thing shining across you, it looked like a fresh glow of something new along you. "i love you y/n." jude places a kiss on your lips, leaving you lingering and out of breath.

"looks like a package come," jude remarks, grabbing the wooden box and shaking it to see what was inside. "from the stork company," you say with a smile. "stork company? i've never heard of that," jude says dumbfounded, grabbing the keys and opening the door. he set the box down by the kitchen island and brought his bag to the laundry room.

jude return to see you propped on the island swinging your feet excitedly. "what are you hiding?" jude says suspiciously, raising his brow and coming over to you. "nothing... are you gonna open it?" you point to the box, hand running down his box. you look at your phone that was hidden and propped nearby, jude eyeing you againg before going to open it.

the familiar butterflies and adrenaline runs along your veins, your hand coming to your bump, as you bite you lip watching jude fiddle with the opening. jude scrunches his face confusedly, taking out the confeti. "duke!" you call out who was already wearing the bib.

jude stops what he’s doing, seeing the infant jersey and tiny football boots. he lets out a laugh, smiling upside down as he takes the baby jersey and holding it out, doing the same with the red predator boots. he glanced around eyes landing on you. “is this what i think it means?” jude says with tears in his eyes.

you giggle and nod quickly, feeling jude trace his hand on your thigh and the other behind your head. “you’re serious? we’re having a baby, y/n?” jude needs the confirmation before he can cheer outloud. a bubble of joystick trickling down his spine as he sees your eyes glimmering. “yes jude… i’m carrying our baby right now,” you look down a hand on your bump jude intaking a breath of air.

jude doesn’t waste any second, kissing you all over your face, tears running down his face emotional, whispering how much he was grateful and thanking you repeatedly making you cry out harder. “i-i-i can’t believe it… we’re having a baby y/n!” jude cheers wipping his face and looking at duke who wagged his tail.

“and you knew about this duke? and you didn’t tell me?” jude leaned down, scratching his ears and reading his small bandana. “no wonder yo wouldn’t let me get near momma. always barking or growling when i wanted to kiss her. not cool man…” he says playfully looking at you still in a daze.

“now you have to protect her from gio and jobe okay? if you do that it means more treats,” jude says teasingly making the german shepherd bark and jump. “oh god,” you chuckle, hand coming to your forehead already picturing the banter and training sessions.

“our family is getting bigger,” jude approaches you and leans down, kneeling and raising his jersey up. jude places delicate kisses in your tummy, making you squirm and hold the back of his head, watching with a huge grin. “my baby in there… i’ll protect you with my life. i love you already, and i can’t wait to meet you,” jude whispered lovingly, hugging your waist.

jude holds your bump, looking into your eyes and feeling your smaller hand interlock with his. “the greatest gift you could ever give me is this, thank you y/n,” jude says wiping a small streak from your cheek with his free hand. “i want to hold our baby now,” jude says along your lips. “patience jude, we have forever to cherish and hold our little one,” you peck his cheek and nose. “love you so much jude,” you kiss his lips slowly, relishing the memory that will forever hold your heart.

“also where did you find those small predator boots?”

————————

ynusername

liked by: judebellingham, gioreyna, jobebellingham, vinijr, tchuameli, brahimdiaz, audreylunin, yourbsf, yourbestie, others.

ynusername: yes rumors are true… patiently waiting for you angel 🥹🤍

comments:

judebellingham: couldn’t hold it in longer, you’re stunning baby 🤍

gioreyna: ❤️

jobebellingham: IM GOING TO BE AN UNCLE??? WHAT?? THIS IS HOW IM FINDING OUT?? 👎👎

↪️ ynusername: to be fair you’d probably spill the beans 😂🤍

yourbestie: BSJDJDJDUJD IM SO EXCITEDD 😣😣

username383: they’re going to be parents?? WERE GETTING DAD! JUDE???

user29: oh lord… i love this pregnancy announcement 🩷

sophiaamelia: congratulations beautiful! will be rooting for a boy!! how is duke taking it?? 😂💙

ynusername: ohh goshh he follows me everywhere i go 😭😂

↪️ judebellingham: he refuses to leave her side, i can’t even hug or kiss her without him barking at me 😒😒

↪️ gioreyna: LFMOAOSOS 😭

username1092: ISNDDNKSKSBBD HELLO WHAT?? THIS IS ONE WAY TO CONFIRM IT!!

————————

judebellingham

liked by: yourusername, realmadrid, gioreyna, jobebellingham, brahimdiaz, thiboutcortois, yourfriend, vinijr, aurelitchuameli, camavinga, 3,904,999 others.

judebellingham: not only have i been gifted with the most unforgettable gift, but i get to do this along such a strong and beautiful woman. y/n i love you so much 🤍

comments:

yourusername: JUDEEEEE 😣😣 stop i’ll cry and my hormones all over the place 💔

camavinga: congratulations bro ❤️

vinijr: HERMANOOO FELICIDADES!! ❤️

brahimdiaz: UN BEBÉ?? HERMANOOOOO FELICIDADES 🤍

gioreyna: so happy for you bro ❤️

user453: the way he holds her ☹️☹️

jobebellingham: i still can’t believe this is how i’m finding out??

↪️ judebellingham: you’re shit at keeping secrets jobe 😭😒

danicarvajal: enhorabuena jude! el regalo mas hermoso es esto ❤️

lukamodric: jude you’re so young 😂 congratulations golden boy! 😂🤍

↪️ judebellingham: thank you luka 😂🤍

nachofernandez: enhorabuena judey y y/n ❤️ nueva adición al equipo y familia!

username234: OMGG SHES SO BEAUTIFUL?? 😍

user49384: JUDE YOURE SO LUCKY 😣

userreee23423: she looks so stunning… like i will never get over this 😣😣😣

username9579: THEIR ANNOUNCEMENT HAS BEEN MY FAVORITE OUT OF EVERYONE!!! so happy for you two!!

————————

ynusername added to their stories!

————————

judebellingham added to their insta stories!

————————

ynusername & judeballingham

liked by: ynusername, judebellingham, gioreyna, jobebellingham, vinijr, brahimdiaz, camavinga, england, realmadrid, others!

ynusername & judeballingham: our bundle of joy has joined us and we couldn’t be anymore happier 🤍

comments are restricted!

realmadrid: enhorabuena jude y y/n!

england: congratualtions you two!

camavinga: congratulations! ❤️

vinijr: hermanoo felicidades !!! 🤩

gioreyna: you’re going to be great parents! congratulations you two! can’t wait to meet baby ❤️

jobebellingham: proud uncle! very happy! 💙

————————

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham instagram au #jude bellingham one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football one shot #football instagram au

605 notes · View notes

boldlyvoid · 9 months

Text

Dear Santa

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Summary: Jack's wishlist this year only consists of one thing. He wants Y/N to be his step-mom.

A/N: Continuation of Waiting Rooms, set a year later

Warnings: slight angst trying to get Jack to share what he wants for Christmas, Haley and reader are friends, getting engaged

Word Count: 2.8K

Rosie is about to turn 1.

JJ and Will are having a big birthday bash at their place, 2 weeks before her actual birthday because being a Christmas baby is hard. Gift-giving becomes a chore, they feel overlooked as they get older, and holiday fatigue makes people not really want to add another thing to their plate. But the BAU loved any excuse to party and to spoil their godchildren— even if it wasn’t on paper like Aaron was, every single member on the team loved JJ’s children as if they were their own.

And Aaron’s girlfriend is invited to the party, too.

Everyone knows her, she’s been around a lot and Aaron loves her dearly. Even Haley likes her, invited her to the wedding back in September and everything, which came in handy when they had to take Jack home for the night to give the happy couple some alone time. Aaron had him for 2 weeks during the honeymoon, and while he was at work, Y/N basically moved into his place to take care of Jack in his absence, which Haley was only okay with because Y/N had a degree in education and was trusted with 20 plus kids every day for years. They got on well, Jack loved talking to her and playing with her, he asked to call her at night when he had weekends with Aaron and she wasn’t over… and then she moved in. Jack was over the moon.

It’s been a month now, playing family is so much easier when Y/N doesn’t have to leave ever. His house is her house and his son is her favourite little guy in the world… but he’s acting different.

There are 2 weeks until Christmas and even Haley can’t get him to make a wish list. Well, he’s made one. He’s sent it to Santa, but he wouldn’t let her see it. So, you know, she can’t buy him anything in the name of Santa. It’s stressing them out, they have no idea why he’s being so secretive this year.

They pick him up from Haley’s for the birthday party, he loves any excuse to spend time with Henry and Haley begs Aaron to try and get him to talk. To anyone. Someone on the team has to be able to crack what’s going on and get him to share what he wants. In exact specifics because if he doesn’t get what he wants on Christmas morning, there’s going to be hell to pay.

He runs off to see Henry the second they’re inside, Aaron and Y/N put the gifts in the pile and head into the kitchen to give hugs and handshakes to all their friends. Y/N hugs Penelope and JJ and she takes little Rosie into her arms for a hug and kisses the side of her head, making Aaron swoon. “I can’t believe you’re so big!” She teases, brushing her nose against Rosie’s hair.

“I know,” JJ sighs, shaking her head. “I wish I could keep them this tiny forever…”

“Me too,” Aaron agrees. Looking off into the other room where the kids are all playing and making noise. “Things are easier when they’re 1.”

“I don’t know,” Will shrugs. “I think 4 is treating Henry well.”

“Has he told you what he wants for Christmas?” Y/N asks right away.

They both nod, “why?” JJ asks.

“Jack won’t tell us,” Aaron complains. “He made his letter, didn’t let me or Haley look and then mailed it away when he met Santa at the mall… we have no idea what he wants and he won’t tell us.”

“Well, last year his Christmas was a lot to take,” Derek reminds them. “His mom getting engaged so soon after your divorce is going to stick out to him… his whole world changed last Christmas.”

“Do you think maybe he asked Santa to bring you two together again?” Penelope asks, hesitant but onto something.

Aaron shakes his head, “no, he loves Scott. Talks very highly about him and their time together on weekdays.”

“Hm,” Emily hums. “You want one of us to talk to him?”

“I’m not sure,” Aaron’s honest. “Maybe Spencer, or Y/N even… I don’t want him to think he’s in trouble for not talking to us about his Wishlist.”

“I’ll do it,” Y/N volunteers, handing Rosie over to Aaron so he can have a snuggle with his god-daughter. “I’ll ask Henry too, just to cover my bases. Get them talking, see what’s up.”

“Thank you,” Aaron leans in and presses a kiss to her lips while Rosie clings to him.

They watch her leave and as soon as the coast is clear everyone's vibe switches. “So…” Derek is the first to tease him.

“When are you going to have another one?” Emily continues.

Aaron shakes his head with a blush. Rosie is snuggled into his chest, head on his shoulder, he leans his cheek against her head and holds her close. She’s always loved him, she finds him calming and it’s probably because he’s so stern and has his emotions under control… also because he’s family. He was the 4th person to hold her in her entire life and he loved her because he loved her mother so much.

“When she asks,” he’s honest.

“Oooo,” JJ teases with a smirk. “I’m surprised she hasn’t asked with how often she sees you with babies now.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I think she wants to be married before she has kids. She’s traditional, I can’t blame her…”

“So when are you going to ask?” Penelope asks, desperate to know.

He shrugs, “We haven’t talked about it. It’s only been a year, we just moved in together, and we’d have to plan it all around her teaching schedule. There’s a lot to consider. I want to make sure she’s okay with my schedule, the long hours and the not being around— I mean, she’s good with Jack, she spends time with him when we get called out and she hasn’t said she has a problem with it but—

“but it’s happened to you once before,” JJ understands.

He nods, “I love her too much to lose her too.”

They all understand that.

“She’s had time to run,” Emily adds. “If she didn’t like your job or the hours or missing you as much as I’m sure she does— she would’ve left already. She’s not the kind of woman to push her feelings down and just coast. She says what she feels and gets what she wants and what she wants is you and the life you’re building and the family you’ve welcomed her into.”

His heart swells, “I hope so.”

—

She plays with them for a bit, driving cars around a town printed on a carpet and making all the automobile noises with a smile. She loved this little boy so much, he was the best thing to come into her life since his dad.

“Did you guys ask for more cars for Christmas?” She pries.

Henry nods, but jack doesn’t say anything. He keeps driving, avoiding the question.

“What else did you ask for Henry?”

“a—

“Don’t tell her!” Jack cuts him off. “If you say it out loud it doesn’t come true.”

“What?” She asks, almost laughing but she holds back. “Who told you that?”

“No one…” he shakes his head, looking like he’s thinking hard.

“Then why do you think it works like that?”

“It’s like birthday wishes,” he explains.

“What did you wish for on your birthday last year?” She asks, trying to figure out if he got it or not, to see if that’s why he thinks this.

“The Spider-Man Hot Wheels track,” he explains.

“And did you tell anyone?” She asks, he shakes his head. “And you got it?”

“I did…”

“What about Christmas last year? Did you tell anyone what you wanted?”

“I made a list but… what I wanted most I told Santa and then it happened,” he whispers. “For mommy to get married to Scott.”

“Oh,” her heart swells. “Oh, Jack. You know, that’s just because you told Santa and he can make things come true, but sometimes Santa can’t get all your gifts and he’ll reach out to your mommy and daddy and say hey, the 3rd thing on Jack's list I couldn’t make at my factory so you can get that for him. But Santa can’t talk to your mom or dad about presents unless you do too… he can’t tell your secrets.”

“Oh,” he thinks hard about it. “I didn’t think about that.”

“Yeah, when I was little we didn’t have a chimney so my dad actually had to wait up for Santa and let him into the house,” she explains the old lie her parents used to tell her. “They became good friends and Santa was always so happy to hear they got me the things he couldn’t make.”

“I only put one thing on my list,” he frowns, scared now that he won’t get anything if it doesn’t come true.

He starts to cry and she pulls him right into her lap, cradling him, “Oh, buddy it's okay. We can make a second list, explain everything to Santa and send it tonight, he’ll get it in time.”

“You think?” He asks, looking up at her with those big hotchner brown eyes.

She nods, “Come on, let’s go ask Aunty JJ if she has some paper.”

They get up off the carpet and she carries him into the kitchen again, they get paper and a pencil and they sit down at the kitchen table together with Aaron standing over his shoulder. He puts down a couple things he’s seen on commercials between TV shows and things he’s seen in the store with his mom and she looks up at Aaron who smiles. He can get these things, there’s still lots of time to make sure his Christmas is good.

But she wanted to know what his big present was… she needed to tell Aaron everything and they needed to work it out. They can’t ruin the magic of Christmas for him because this year his big wish doesn’t come true.

—

At home that night, they sit in bed and she tells him everything and his heart breaks a bit. “He has 1 wish and we have no idea what it is.”

“I know,” she leans back against the pillows, just as panicked as he is. “Is there any way you can contact the mall and find out what Santa was working on that day and maybe, just maybe he remembers what Jack said?”

“I can try… but I might just have Haley and Scott sit him down and have him watch Here Comes Santa Clause, make sure he has the real story and knows that it’s not like a birthday wish. Saying it doesn’t stop it from coming true,” Aaron explains. “I need him to have a good Christmas with us this year.”

“He will,” she assures, cuddling into his side. She places her hand on his chest and he wraps his arm around her so she can get closer. “We all will.”

—

Aaron goes off on another case just before Christmas, Y/N spends the night before Jack’s arrival for his week at their house, wrapping presents. They’ve managed to get him everything he asked for. They split the list in half, Haley got him a bunch, they got him the rest and then they all threw in some practice things from themselves.

Haley had dropped off her Santa gifts early, they’re hidden up in the attic so he can’t find them before Christmas morning. He’s going to be one spoiled boy…

Aarons is still not back when Jack gets there. He’s so close to finishing the case, he should be home in a day. Till then, she’s more than happy to spend some one-on-one time with Jack.

He runs upstairs to his room to put his bag away and Y/N gets a few minutes alone with Haley, “has he said anything?”

She smirks, nodding, “he did…”

She lights right up, “what? Can we get it in time?”

“He wants you to be his step-mommy,” Haley whispers, stepping into her space and rubbing her arm. “So unless you want Aaron to be the one to propose, you should get a ring.”

She’s in a state of shock for a while, Jack goes to bed after dinner and she just sits in the living room with her drink and the TV on low and she stares off. She has no idea what to do. Does she tell Aaron? Do they talk about it? Should they get rings together and make a plan? She could just get a ring and ask him? But does she get a ring for herself or for him? Would he even want a ring or would he maybe like a watch?”

There’s a million things buzzing around her head and then the lock clicks over. The door opens and Aaron’s briefcase hits the floor before it closes.

“Hey,” he smiles as he sees her. “You’re still up?”

“What time is it?” She asks, having genuinely no idea.

“Close to midnight… are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh yeah,” she shakes her thoughts away and gets up to give him his big home-coming hug.

She wraps herself around him, breathes him in and settles against his body. His big hands on her back, the warmth of his chest, the feeling of his lips on her forehead… it all feels like home. He’s her home.

“I love you,” she whispers against his chest.

He cups her face and pulls her attention up to his eyes. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Haley cracked the code,” she breaks down, it all falls out as she looks at him. He’s so soft, he’s so good to her… she wants to spend the rest of her life with him. “Jack wants us to get married too. He wants a stepmom and a stepdad. He wants two complete families at both his houses and I don’t blame him.”

Aaron’s face lights right up, “he said that? Really?”

She nods, “Last year he got a stepdad, this year he wants me to join the family…”

“Do you want to?” He asks, making sure they’re on the same page.

She nods, letting it all out, “I love you so much Aaron, there is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you and that beautiful boy upstairs.”

“What kind of ring do you want?”

—

When Christmas morning rolled around, Jack was surprised to see the mountain of presents under the tree. They let him go crazy, opening everything with his name on the tag while Aaron picked up the wrapping paper and put it in a plastic garbage bag.

Y/N sat back, enjoying the show and taking photos to share with Haley later.

Everything he wanted is there in front of him, already assembled and batteries put in them. He gets an apple and some candy in his stalking as well as a toothbrush that has the spider-man theme song built in for 2 minutes of optimal brushing. He gets some fun bath soaps and new crayons and a bunch of socks and underwear. It’s a perfect Christmas.

But there is still 1 more gift.

“Hey Jack, what’s that?” Aaron points to the tree. A small, little box is wrapped up and placed on a branch. “Did you miss one?”

He wanders up to the tree and takes the box in his hands. “There’s no name?”

“Huh,” Y/N pretends to be shocked. “You can open it, maybe you can figure out who it’s for?”

He carefully peels the wrapping off and notices it's a velvet box. He opens it up like a book and then gasps when he notices it’s a ring. “Dad?”

“That’s not for me,” he smiles. “Santa must've known I wanted to ask her... can you help me?”

His face lights right up and he brings it over to Y/N. She hadn’t seen the ring yet, it was a surprise but in the style she explained. He sits down next to her and watches her take it out of the box. “Is this for me?”

“Will you marry my dad?” he asks, eyes gleaming with the reflection of the Christmas tree lights.

She tears up, she knew this would be emotional but hearing him say that… makes her heart grow 10 times its size. She nods, “Of course I will, I love him so much.”

Aaron joins them, kneeling in front of her. He takes the ring from her hand, “I love you,” he reminds her as he slips it onto her ring finger. “I always will.”

She pulls him up for a kiss and holds him close and Jack takes the initiative to join, getting between them, he snuggles in close. Happier than ever that his Christmas wish came true for a second year in a row.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

569 notes · View notes

actual-changeling · 2 months

Text

I know a lot of people interpret Scully's reaction to Mulder's love confession in 'Triangle' as her assuming that he is drugged up and talking nonsense.

There is another (worse) option, though.

"Oh brother" is definitely not what you respond if you're taking it seriously, we can probably agree on that, but i don't think potential drugs are the reasons here.

Let's look back a little. I'm working with the assumption that 'Folie a Deux' is set in May of 1998 with FtF taking place in August. 'The Beginning' happens sometime in September of the same year. If we use this as our timeline, we have a total of around five months during which a LOT of shit happens.

'Folie a Deux' is important because this is the "original" drugged up love confession Scully hears when Mulder is in the psychward. It gets to her, she thinks he is being genuine and does what he asked her to do.

More important than the act itself is what he tells her. I assume most of us have that conversation memorized, but just as a reminder:

"Scully, you have to believe me. Nobody else on this whole damn planet does or ever will. You're my one in five billion."

Even from our point of view, this makes complete sense—she IS the only one he trusts.

Except that it's a lie. I don't expect Mulder to think of Diana in that moment, and it wouldn't have been an issue at all if it weren't for the events of 'The End', which happen about 2-3 weeks later.

Suddenly, there is a person from his past that he trusts unconditionally to the point of stupidity, and he not only doesn't talk to Scully about any of it, he stops talking to her period. It's as if she has been a placeholder for Diana, and now that she's back, there is no use for her anymore.

Mulder works the case with Diana, Scully is dragging herself along and he does not care about her or her work until it is useful for him; he doesn't back her up when a room full of people (including Diana) belittle and mock her. He nods along, which, to Scully, is just the last puzzle piece slotting into place.

To summarize, Mulder's confession in Folie a Deux that she took seriously is revealed to be a lie—a means to an end to get her to do what he wants her to. Whether or not that's objectively true is a totally different matter because this is what Scully is confronted with.

Betrayal.

With that in mind, their argument in FtF in his hallway and Scully thinking of herself as redundant makes complete sense. We get yet another love confession, one she ALSO takes seriously, and if it weren't for that fucking bee, they'd have kissed. Maybe then, the whole mess that comes after could have been avoided, but here we are.

In "The Beginning", Scully repeats said confession back to him in an attempt to calm him and regain his trust in her/her science. Let's see what happens:

He implicitly tells her that none of what he confessed still applies, that the whole speech was, once again, nothing but a farce to get her to stay. Mulder confirms this at the end of the episode, and Scully asking him with tears in her eyes to trust her is a deeply painful contrast to his earlier declarations.

Two times, Mulder confesses his love to her.

Two times, he takes it back later and continues to use it against her.

In 'Triangle', Scully once again finds herself next to Mulder in a hospital bed and listens to him as he confesses his love for a third time. Does she think he's drugged up? Yeah, probably, but that's not the reason she cannot take him seriously.

Considering her track record with Mulder and big speeches, is it at all surprising that she no longer trusts what he tells her?

"Oh, brother," because she is forced to grapple with her many, many feelings for him and process it in a way that fits into everything else that has happened so far.

"Oh, brother," because it might be an attempt to placate her and nothing else.

"Oh, brother," because there is a chance he will twist his 'I love you' into a weapon to stab her with later. Because he says it and does not mean it.

This is not a "oh, he's drugged up" expression to me. This is Scully preparing to get hurt again.

The funniest part is that she's right. She is right. He couldn't have meant it because then he wouldn't be staring her down with apathy in his eyes and tell her not to make it "personal".

SHE is making it personal? After Mulder manipulated her by pulling on their connection like a leash to get her to do what he wants? After he confessed how much he loves and trusts her over and over just to throw it all away?

To ignore all of it in the moment it actually fucking matters?

The drug option is less angsty and kinda fun, and I do enjoy reading fics that interpret it as such, but with their history attached, it is so much more—and so much worse.

Pretending it never happened is one thing, but then actively denying it to her face and using her feelings to hurt her? Yeah, no.

Mulder fucked up and Scully has every right to reject his declarations and distance herself from him.

#alex watches x files #txf #the x files #x files #dana scully #fox mulder #scully x mulder #mulder x scully #msr #txf meta #msr meta #txf triangle #im tired so i hope all of this makes sense rip

159 notes · View notes

firewasabeast · 2 months

Note

Prompt:

Buck thinks he and Tommy should send out a Christmas card together. Tommy agrees...Clipboard Buck appears 😆

This was fun!! Thank you ❤️

“Evan?”

“Hm?”

“Um, when I- when we agreed to send out a Christmas card together this year, I can't say I was expecting all of this.”

Their front porch was decorated top to bottom in Christmas décor. Garland and bows around the door and front windows, small trees with white lights lining the steps, fake snow sprayed onto the glass framing of the front door. There were some boxes that were wrapped perfectly too, clustered together just past the top step.

It looked absolutely beautiful.

It also looked absolutely insane.

Especially since it was September.

The idea of sending out Christmas cards came to Buck a month earlier, as he moved into Tommy's place. He was putting away some things and found Maddie, Chimney, and Jee's card from the year before. The thought of him and Tommy sending out a card of their own for everyone to see was too enticing to pass up. Plus, it was a perfect way to let distant relatives know that he was in a committed relationship with another man without having to do the whole awkward, and downright ridiculous, coming out routine.

Tommy had agreed pretty quickly. He had learned by now to always be prepared for whatever Buck threw at him next, and he found it pretty exciting to say yes to all his little ideas and suggestions that he himself would never have thought about otherwise.

What Tommy didn't account for is that a suggestion like this would not be taken lightly. Not with Buck involved.

“What do you mean?” Buck asked, eyes shooting up from the clipboard he'd been staring down at.

“I just... I thought we'd pick a selfie, from our phones,” his voice wavered when he saw the look of utter disgust come over Buck's face, “and choose a template from Walgreens...”

Buck stood there, mouth hanging open. Like he couldn't believe such a crazy idea even came out of Tommy's mouth.

“Thomas.”

Tommy sighed. The full name was never a good sign.

“Christmas cards are quite possibly the most important piece of stationary you can send out into the world.”

“So, when we send out our wedding invitations they'll be, what, number two?”

“A Christmas card tells the people within your world,” Buck continued, ignoring Tommy's question, “that the person or people you are with in that card is who matters the most to you.”

Tommy crossed his arms over his chest, nodding. “Right, but Evan, Babe,” he smiled, moving closer, hoping to cut the tension he had created, “I'm pretty sure most people toss their Christmas cards like, as soon as they get them, or the day after Christmas.”

Buck shook his head. He lifted some papers from his clipboard and pulled out a sheet that he handed to Tommy. “Not this one. Ours is going to be made from botanical paper,” he said, pointing down at one of the options on the paper. “They'll plant it somewhere around their house or in a pot or something and from our love, plants will grow!” He smiled brightly as he finished his explanation, eyes wide and filled with excitement.

Tommy couldn't help himself. Buck was so cute when he got this way. There wasn't a piece of Tommy that ever wanted to dull Evan's happiness from even the smallest things in life. He leaned forward and gave Buck a gentle peck on the lips. “That's adorable,” he said, handing the paper back to Buck, “and very sweet.”

“I, uh, I think so too.” A blush rose on Buck's cheeks. Even after all these months together, he still got butterflies in his stomach when Tommy kissed him or was on board with one of his plans.

The thing was, Buck knew that he could be a lot to deal with sometimes. He knew people got frustrated when he had a clipboard in his hands. He knew he could get obsessive and overdo it. And, while Tommy may sometimes suggest simpler options (which were obviously wrong and insane), he never made fun of Buck or belittled him. Buck never had to worry about being too much with Tommy, and that was such a freeing feeling.

“Now!” Buck rocked up on his tippy toes, getting back to his list. “We've got our first photographer coming in half an hour. Our next one comes at one. Then we've got to wait until four for the last one, so you'll have to change out of your outfit or put on a robe or something so you don't spill.”

“We... We've got three photographers coming?”

Buck nodded, double checking his list. “Yes. Uh, three today, two tomorrow.”

“So five then? Five photographers coming?”

“Correct.”

“Evan, honey,” Tommy placed his hands on Buck's biceps, pulling his attention from the clipboard yet again. “Why exactly do we have five photographers coming?”

“To make sure we get the best photos?” Buck replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right... Right, okay. Alright, well, you just tell me what to do and when to do it and I will be there.”

Buck leaned in this time, a hand placed at the nape of Tommy's neck, and kissed him. “First,” he said once he pulled away, “I've gotta go get the house ready for the dog. He'll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay,” Tommy agreed. Buck was already back in the house when his words sunk in. “Wait! Dog?!” Tommy called out, “Evan, we don't have a dog!”

“We do today!”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #kinley #a christmas card is not complete without a dog duh

165 notes · View notes

sc0tters · 1 year

Text

Fool For You | Vince Dunn

summary: when Vince sees you with another guy he can’t sit by when you get too close.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), choking, swearing.

word count: 2.38k

authors note: I have never written for Vince until now, so I don’t know if any of this made sense… I like this man though so I hope you guys can sit through reading this.

You and Vince went around in circles.

One month you couldn’t stand the boy and the next you were practically living in his bed.

It was a cycle that your friends couldn’t stand as they watched your heart remain in the hands of the man who didn’t know how to deal with it.

They had brought you out to a bar after rumours of Vince having a new girl in his life came out “I want you to meet someone!” Heidi called out motioning to a guy who had been staring at you for the last fifteen minutes.

He seemed much quieter than what you would go for “hey.” You smiled swirling your drink in your hand.

Tonight you were meant to be saying goodbye to Vince for good as you moved on to someone new “I’m y/n!” You introduced yourself over the sound of blaring music in the speakers.

From across the bar sat on a seat alone Vince was pissed. Watching you smile as the boy you were with leaned down to whisper something into your ear. That little dress you wore was something that the hockey player hated on you.

Not because it barely went over your ass but because Vince didn’t like other guys getting to see you looking the way you did in that dress.

Vince fixed his bow tie as he waited for you to come out of your bathroom “we’re gonna be late!” He groaned looking up from his watch “should I wear these or those?” You asked holding up two different sets of high heels.

The hockey player felt his jaw tense staring at your body from head to toe “you aren’t wearing that.” Vince shook his head getting up from your bed “what’s wrong with this?” You frowned thinking that you looked cute.

It wasn’t often that you got the chance to get all dressed up and you really liked the dress “look I’m not going if you’re going to wear that.” He raised his hands not wanting to argue “give me a sec.” You sighed dropping both pairs of heels as you turned back to your bathroom.

Vince couldn’t help it as that night went through his mind watching you laugh at whatever stupid thing that guy said “are you even listening to me?” The girl who sat next to him scoffed seeing where his eyes had gone.

She was the one who had been rumoured to be his new love connection “you are totally unbelievable,” she added getting off of the chair next to him as she made her way to find someone new.

The hockey player remained sat in his seat until the boy leaned forward to kiss your lips. Vince swore he saw red as he practically took two long strides before he got to your side “hey-” the boy in front of you groaned as he was pulled away from you.

Before they could have a conversation where you could tell Vince to fuck off he instead landed a blow to the boys cheek sending him back tumbling “Vince!” Your eyes went wide as you sent him a harsh glare “c’mon.” The hockey player grumbled wrapping his hand around your arm as he pulled you off of your seat and in the direction of the door.

The humid Seattle September air hit your face “where are we going?” You asked furrowing your eyebrows “get in,” Vince opened the passenger door to his black G-Wagon.

You feet remained stuck to the sidewalk “I’ve only had one beer and I know that you’ve only had one drink.” That was true, despite being at the bar for an hour you had been nursing the same drink all night.

The mental coin toss went on in your head as you contemplated putting up a fight “listen baby, you look so fucking good right now that I just want to get my head between your thighs.” Vince’s words sent shivers down your spine “but I can’t do that if you’re going to be difficult.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw causing you to practically jump into his car.

It shouldn’t have been this easy for him to get you where he wanted it but you were always going to have to try harder to not fall into his hands like putty “what about her?” Your voice was soft as he slammed his car door behind him.

Vince sighed as he turned to face you “she doesn’t matter.” He mumbled hooking his fingers under your jaw “yeah she does.” You nodded letting your lips form a frown.

The hockey player rubbed his calloused thumb against your cheek “you are the one in my car baby.” Vince’s words made your hand land on top of his as you nodded.

That moment felt foreign as his eyes stared into yours “wanted you all to myself,” his confession made you smile “really?” The boy nodded as he kissed your lips.

His over hand went to your leg tracing up your skirt “Vince,” you whimpered pulling your lips from his “what do you say we go back to mine?” The hockey player smiled as you nodded.

The drive back to his was quiet, you looked out at the road for the most part silently hating how wet your panties grew at the thought of what Vince was going to do to you “penny for your thoughts princess?” He asked watching you turn around to him with nothing more than a nod “you were a fucking idiot tonight.” You spat sending Vince a glare.

It made him laugh “‘m fucking crazy about you baby.” He confessed pulling into his garage before his car came to a stop.

Your palms grew sweaty as the boy came around to your side to let him open your door for you “shouldn’t even let you get what you want with the way you acted tonight.” Vince ran his fingers through your hair “thinking you are could find someone better than me?” His words continued as your body pressed up against the side of his car.

A whimper left your lips “why don’t you go be a good girl and go sit upstairs for me?” His hand tapped at your thigh as you nodded listening to his instructions as you made your way upstairs.

You removed your shoes reaching behind your back to undo the zipper “keep on disappointing me today baby.” Vince clicked his tongue as he leaned against the frame of his door “sorry Vincey,” you apologised letting your head drop.

Vince smiled as he walked over to you “don’t be,” he forced your head up to look at him “gives me an excuse to fucking rip this dress up now.” Before you could attempt to protest the sound of fabric ripping made you gasp.

You were surprised at how little effort it took from the boy to rip a straight line down the back of the dress “fucking hell baby.” Vince groaned seeing your matching lingerie that was hidden between by the fabric of your dress.

The boy smiled running his fingers over the straps of your bra “you’re so fucking beautiful.” He cooed pressing a kiss on your shoulder “all mine too.” The hockey player added smirking as you looked at his reflection in the mirror.

Vince pushed you onto his bed watching as your body bounced on the comforter “you know that if I was with him he would already be fucking me?” You blinked repeatedly not enjoying the way your body basked in his sight.

Naturally one of your talents was to piss Vince off as you pressed at his buttons “that mouth is forever going to get you in trouble.” He sighed letting his knees fall between your legs “such a pretty baby.” Vince mumbled pecking your lips.

His mouth nipped at your jaw pressing soft marks against your bone. He moved on the journey down to your core sucking at the valley of your breasts, before he moved to your stomach “fuck Vince.” You cried seeing his eyes staring right back up at yours.

Vince smiled as he was faced with your clothed core “let’s get these off baby?” The hockey player asked hooking his fingers in your waistband.

The thong drove down your legs before he threw it across the room “been waiting to see this all fucking day.” Vince let out a grunt as he placed a kiss on your clit.

The sensitive nub sent shivers up your body “Jesus Vince,” you gasped locking your fingers in his hair as his tongue licked up your slit “just me baby.” The hockey player laughed driving his tongue into your core as it lay flat “don’t stop!” You begged as his lips wrapped around your clit making sure to focus most of its attention there as his fingers curled into your cunt.

It was hot has the boy seemed like he was working for his harder than he had worked for his Stanley Cup win. Vince watched as you drove your hips into his face “you’re so hot.” You blurted out making him smirk as your hands dragged through his hair giving it the occasional tug when the pleasure grew too much for you.

Vince felt his cock grow hard as it throbbed against his boxers “I know baby, I know.” He used his free hand to lightly slap your clit repeatedly “shit Vince!” You gasped screwing your eyes shut as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

Before you knew it you were given a rude awakening when Vince retracted his fingers from your core as he smiled seeing you try to protest “you really think you could act like that all night and then get away with it?” The hockey player let out a laugh as he shook his head “want to finally be a good girl and listen to me?” Vince sat up straight as he ran his hands down your thighs.

You whimpered nodding your head repeatedly “please Vince.” You knew your were getting your way when he pulled his shirt over his head.

Within seconds a messy pile of clothes formed serving as a contrast from his clean wooden floor “don’t know how much I missed you.” Vince’s words were soft as he ran his painfully hard cock over your clit “gor a weird way of showing it.” You mumbled sending him a glare “you’re lucky that I need you.” The hockey player let out a grunt as his cock slid into your cunt.

You needed little to no time to adjust to his size, which was good because he wasn’t going to give you it “fuck Vince.” Your head dug into the mattress as he brought your legs up to your sides “not so mouthy now?” Vince smirked picking up the pace of his thrusts as the new angle caused his cock to slide deeper into your pussy.

Your hips tried to ride his in an attempt to help relieve the pressure between your legs “you really think he could have done this for you?” The hockey player scoffed growing annoyed as he thought back to how that guy from the bar ran his fingers across your neck “could have had you gasping for air like this?” Vince let his hand wrap around your throat as he let his calloused fingers squeeze the sides.

Vince smiled to himself as you nodded moaning when his cold chain landed on your chin “only you V.” Your eyelids grew heavy with your brain only focusing on your cunt clenching around his cock “all yours.” Those words made an animalistic switch go off in his head.

The sound of skin slapping suddenly erupted in the room as your cries of pleasure became a mere background noise to it “shit Vince.” You groaned bringing your hands to cup his as you wanted to kiss his lips.

His tongue dragged along your lower lip “my pretty little girl.” Vince cooed as your soaked cunt squelched each time his throbbing cock drove further deeper into it.

Your head pushed back when your breath went shaky “feeling good?” The hockey player smirked as he saw how swollen your lips had become.

It was needy as you whined “so fucking good.” His hand from your throat went to your clit “let the world hear who makes you feel like this.” Vince always liked hearing you scream especially when it was in your apartment where your neighbour was forced to listen through the wall that stood between your bedrooms.

But his bedroom always made him feel differently as it seemed that his walls soaked in your sounds to then speak of the story later “don’t stop Vince.” You begged as the sensations between his cock and his fingers suddenly started to become too much for you.

As your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t help it when your brain went back to how this always ends, you leave in the morning and to your friends annoyance their same lecture then has to be delivered “beg for it baby.” Vince ordered drawing your attention away from your thoughts.

You huffed your chest out “please Vince,” you cried out “only get like this for you.” Your statement was true as no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get rid of him.

How his fingers felt on your skin “fuck I’m coming.” As Vince shot his hot ropes of release into your cunt it caused your orgasm to come over you as the boy made sure to fuck you through it.

Both sets of breaths were heavy “did so good princess.” Vince kissed your lips as his cock slid out of your pussy making your body shudder.

The hockey player watched in amusement as his come oozed out of your cunt “fuck!” You almost jumped when the boys fingers scooped up the release and shoved it back into your pussy “had to make sure none went to waste.” Vince shrugged sending you a grin before he came to lay next to you.

Your fucked out state was enough to make him hard all over again “you were stupid tonight.” Your tone was serious as you knew you had to talk about what he had done “for you I’m a fucking idiot.”

#vince Dunn smut #Vince dunn #hockey smut #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

882 notes · View notes

call-me-maggie13 · 2 years

Text

My late 40s to early 50s boss just asked what’s wrong with 18-25 year olds these days

And as a 21 year old all I could think was

The world has been on fire since we were born and we’ve been told the adults are putting it out and now we’re old enough to realize they’ve been pouring kerosene on the flames instead of water.

Before my first birthday, 9/11 happened and the world wouldn’t let us forget it. When I was 6 years old, on September 11th, my teacher sat us down in front of a tv and showed us footage of 9/11 and then told us we weren’t allowed to cry. She said that it was real and those were real people jumping from the building because jumping was a faster death than burning.

When I was 7 years old, the economy collapsed and my family went from lower middle class to poverty, we went from healthy home cooked meals every night to mac and cheese and beans for weeks in a row. We started skipping holidays because mom and dad couldn’t keep the lights on and buy us new toys. We started wearing clothes and shoes until they fell apart.

When I was 11 years old, Sandy Hook was attacked by a grown man with a gun and 26 children and teachers were brutally murdered. My teachers never looked at us the same and I haven’t felt safe in a school since. After that, once a month we would have active shooter drills and we were taught to fight and cause as much damage as possible if an armed man entered our classroom because it gave other classes a few extra seconds to escape, it gave our siblings a few extra breaths of safety. We were taught to cover ourselves in other students blood and play dead if we weren’t hit, we were taught that we weren’t safe and we wouldn’t be safe as long as we were in school.

When I was 15 years old, my high school art teacher locked us in the classroom and told us if we heard gunshots we should line the desks up lengthwise so that they reached the other wall because that would be harder to break through than a barricade. She told us that she knew about the threats and she wouldn’t judge any of us that wanted to leave. She told us to get our siblings and stay in the buildings as long as possible, to duck in between the cars so we couldn’t be seen until we got to ours. She told us about the trail behind the auto shop that was lined with trees and led off campus. I got my brother and his friends and we left, we spent the day sitting on the floor in my living room waiting for a phone call that the people we left behind were dying.

Two weeks later, one of my friends dragged me out of a football game and forced me to go home with him. He grabbed my brothers and my best friend and forced the six of us into a two seater car before he would tell us anything. His mom worked for the school board and had told him the police found an active bomb under the bleachers in the student section, and they weren’t informing anyone because they didn’t want to incite panic.

When I was 16 years old, ISIS set off a bomb at a pop concert in Britain and killed 22 people, injuring at least 100 more. The next day at school, our teachers went over how to stay safe if we ever experienced something like that. They told us the most important thing to remember was to not remove any shrapnel because it could be keeping us from bleeding out, they said it was more important to get yourself out safely before you worried about anyone else.

When I was 18 years old, my teachers stopped teaching and put the news up on the projector and we watched as the Notre-Dame burned. The boy I had sat next to since second grade spent the entire day trying to call his sister who was studying abroad in Paris, I watched this kid I had never even seen frown fall apart in English because she wouldn’t pick up the phone. We didn’t know it at the time, but she was okay.

Six months later, my history teacher put the news on the projector again for another fire. This time, we watched as an entire continent burned for three months. We watched their sky turned orange from the smoke and their wildlife drowned in pools because they were trying to escape the heat.

When I was 19 years old, the whole world shut down because of a global pandemic. I didn’t meet a single new person for eight months, despite the fact that I had just moved across the country. I watched as people didn’t wear masks and spread it to everyone around them, I was so scared when I went back to my room every night because my roommate was immunocompromised and I was terrified I would give her Covid and kill her.

Just two months later, I watched a video of a black man being murdered by police officers. I watched the world around me explode after George Floyd’s death, people destroying businesses and police stations. I watched some of my friends realize police officers didn’t exist to keep them safe, they existed to keep the people in power in power. I learned that some of the people I had grown up with would rather watch a black man die than admit that maybe, maybe, the system was broken.

When I was 20 years old, I went to the mall with a friend to buy a birthday present and I was pulled to the ground by a twelve-year-old girl after gunshots went off in the mall. I held this child’s hands as she cried for two hours until we were evacuated by police, and then I waited with her outside and helped her look for her mom. I gave her my phone to call her mom and I watched as she called the number over and over and never got a reply. I waited with her until a police officer took her to the station to try to find out more information about the girl’s mom, I hugged this girl I had never seen before and I wished her the best. I never found out what happened to her or her mom, it keeps me up at night sometimes worrying that this little girl was orphaned.

When I was 21 years old, I started working at a daycare and exactly a week later, Uvalde happened and I found myself crying because my students are the same age those kids were. When they came in after school the next day, one of them had asked me if I had heard about Uvalde and I told her I had, I asked her if she was scared of going to school because of it. Her reply broke my heart. “We practice for it every week so that when it happens to us, we know what to do. I’m just worried that the shooter is going to start in my baby sister’s classroom and not mine.” I listened as other students with younger siblings agreed with her, one of them saying “I would take fifty bullets, if I had to to keep my little brother safe.”

Early this year, I watched Russia launched bombs into Ukraine, blowing up churches and schools and hospitals and apartment buildings. I watched as the estimated death count rose from the hundreds to the thousands to the tens of thousands. I watched men send their wives and children to bordering countries for refuge while they stayed behind to fight, knowing they would probably never see each other again.

Just four months ago, I watched as my right to medical privacy got taken away. I watched my old roommate fall apart because she was denied the right to have her dead fetus removed from her body for almost two days, I worried every time I looked away from her that the next time I saw her would be in a casket. I watched as the women around me realized the military-grade weapons that had torn children in classrooms apart were protected by the government but our bodies weren’t.

There is nothing “wrong” with my generation, we’ve experienced all these things as children and were expected to respond with patriotism for a country that continuously sacrificed their children for the “right” to military-grade weapons, that took away my freedom of choice. We are tired, we were told the world was a wonderful place then shown, at every step, how the world was a place of destruction and pain. And we are angry. We are angry because no one but us seems to be trying to fix anything. And we are scared. We are scared because our children, our nieces and nephews, our cousins and our friends children are growing up in a world that won’t protect them.

5K notes · View notes

smoooothoperator · 3 months

Text

What Was I Made For?

06: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: time skip (three months), Sebastian Stan, race inchident, crash, hospital

a/n: Hiiii!!!How is your life going??? I have to thank my lovely @alltoomaples for being the beta reader of this chapter :3 thank you!! And I just have to warn that this is the start of the real deal!

Masterlist

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

3 months later. Abu-Dhabi GP.

“Are you sure it's okay if we're seen together?”

After that charity event, where I had an anxiety attack and Sebastian came to help me, the two of us somehow got closer. We exchanged numbers and he texted me every day asking me how I was doing, if I felt better or if I had an anxiety attack again. And that concern turned into something more as weeks passed by, ending in something like a situationship.

“Of course. They should mind their own business” I smiled. “You came to support me”

He smiled and nodded, pressing a light kiss on my head and grabbing his backpack, getting ready to leave the hotel room to go to the track.

Avoiding Charles in Maranello was easy, I only had to look at the schedule and go whenever he wasn't there or even being in the same building but making sure I didn't see him at all. During race weeks was harder, because our garages were next to each other and the team briefings were in the same room, but that didn't stop me from sitting on the other side of the table and ignoring him.

And now that the season was finally ending, I could finally breathe in peace knowing that the only time I'll see him after this race is going to be at the team dinner.

I got out of the hotel room with Sebastian behind me holding my hand, squeezing it softly as we walked towards the elevator. The last three months with him were amazing, he always supported me even if he had to be away filming, sending me gifts or calling me before a race.

“This is the last race of the season, right?” he asked. “Why don't we go somewhere to have a week alone, only the two of us? Maybe somewhere warm?”

“That sounds amazing” I smiled looking at him, pressing a kiss on his cheek and hugging his arm.

If someone ever told me that I could do something like this with the one and only Sebastian Stan, I would tell them that they had drugs on their drink. But here I am, waking up next to him some mornings and feeling his touch all over my body.

I knew there were rumors about us. Some people somehow connected dots and started saying that Sebastian and I were dating. And the comments are everything but good. I had haters all over my career, but since that night of September the hate started to get worse, making fans get creative and make comments about everything I did: be with someone older than me, going to fashion events, trying to start a clothing brand.

“You are tense” Sebastian said while we walked towards my car.

“I'm okay, it's just… I'm tired” I smiled weakly. “It's been a long season, all I need is to rest”

“Are you sure?” he sighed. “It's just… Lately you've been so tired, Dafne. And I worry about you”

“Don't worry, really” I smiled, squeezing his hand softly. “After this race I'm all yours, okay?”

He smiled softly and nodded, kissing my temple and getting in the Ferrari. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, preparing myself for what is about to come once I'm near the track. I swallowed thickly, feeling tears burning my eyes and the knot of my neck not letting me breathe.

I can do this, just one more day. I can handle this. Another day or hearing the crowd roaring, engineers talking to me asking me to push more and more, fake smiles to the photographers. Just one more day until I can disappear for a while and come back stronger to fight Charles.

I sighed, opening the door and sitting on the driver seat, looking at Sebastian and smiling weakly. This will be the first time he will come to a race, and even if we made clear to the other that what we had right now was everything we wanted, I was still nervous about what people would think and assume, how he would react to the hate.

“It will be okay, yeah?” he smiled looking at me, placing his hand on my knee and squeezing it softly. “The race will end before you know it and then you won't have to be around him for some months”

I smiled weakly and nodded, driving towards the track. My grip on the steering wheel is tight, with my mind working nonstop about the different scenarios of what will happen once my car appears near the track, with all those fans there waiting for the drivers. Will they be respectful? Will they scream profanities? Will they hate seeing Sebastian next to me? The hate will be towards me or towards him?

I clenched my jaw when I started to see all the people behind the barriers, taking pictures of the cars that drove in front of them, calling the names of the drivers. I recognized Lando's car in front of mine, and I could hear the fans calling him, excited to see him. But when I drove pass them, the turned their heads to look at the car behind me.

“God, not even taking pictures of this beauty?” Sebastian said, trying to cut the tension. “Come on, this car is amazing, when will be the next time they'll see a Ferrari Roma?”

“This is Abu Dhabi, Seb” I smiled weakly. “They have supercars in every corner…”

I looked at him smiling weakly. I know he tries to cheer me up, but it's not the first time they do this. I'm already used to being ignored.

“My family will be in the hospitality during the race, you want to be with them?” I asked him, changing the subject.

“Don't mind me, I love your family, they are great” he smiled. “But… I want to be in the garage. I-if that's okay with you, of course. I want to experience a race inside of the garage”

“Yeah of course” I smiled. “You'll have to stay in the back, but… Yeah, sure”

He smiled and nodded, biting his lip and looking at the front.

What people will if they see him in the garage? What will media say?

I swallow thickly and park the car, taking deep a deep breath before opening the door. Sebastian got out after me, looking all the time at me. I grabbed my backpack and locked the car, looking around.

“Go ahead” Sebastian smiled, nodding. “I'll be okay. It's just scanning the pass and then I have to walk to the big red building, right?”

“Yeah” I nodding, grabbing tightly the backpack. “I'll see you there”

I took a deep breath and walked away, wanting to go back and kiss his lips, but I knew people had their cameras ready to picture every move I made. So, instead of that, I walked alone with the biggest fake smile I could make, scanning my pass and walking through the paddock, letting the photographers take pictures of me.

Chin up, bitch smile, walk straight.

During most part of the day I felt nauseous. And my chest hurt.

“Probably your period will come soon” my sister Soleil said. “You want me to give you some vitamins?”

“Yeah, sure” I nodded, moving my shoulders in circles to warm up. “And give me a cold jacket before I go to the anthem”

The last few days I have been feeling weird, true. My breasts were more sensitive and I felt swollen.

“Thank God this is the last race if the season” I sighed.

Sebastian was out of my room with the rest of my family while Soleil helped me get ready for the race. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed, slipping the fireproof shirt inside the leggings.

“Yeah, probably it's the period” I sighed looking at my abdomen.

I walked out of the room with the suit hanging on my hips, grabbing the bottle of water and walking towards my family and Sebastian. I saw Charles' family near, and I just smiled weakly at them before hugging Sebastian.

“You ready?” he smiled, kissing the top of my head and rubbing my back.

“Yeah, I'm just a little nauseous” I smiled weakly. “Probably I shouldn't have eaten that yogurt from earlier…”

“I'm sure it's nothing” my mom smiled. “You always get nervous in the last race of the season, is normal”

I nodded and smiled weakly, hugging Sebastian tighter as he rubbed my back, comforting me.

I heard Charles walking out of his room and I tensed immediately. I can't avoid him always, we are in the same team, even if we hate it.

“I have to go make the team photos” I sighed, kissing Sebastian's jaw. “The race is in an hour, you can go to the garage now”

“Okay” he smiled kissing my forehead.

I smile looking at him walk away, biting my lip when I heard my sisters giggling. I rolled my eyes and grab the helmet Erica was holding for me.

“What would say the Dafne of a year ago?” she smirked.

“About what?” I laughed.

“Well, look at you and Sebastian” she smiled.

“Yeah, well” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “We are not dating”

“Yet” she smirked.

“We are too busy for that” I sighed.

I walked out of the hospitality and went towards the garage, smiling weakly when I saw Sebastian already with a headset hanging on his neck. I walked towards him and smiled.

“You'll be okay here?” I asked him.

“Of course I'll be” he smiled, holding my helmet while I zipped the suit. “Smile, okay?”

“Yeah” I sighed, smiling weakly and grabbing the helmet, following all the workers that were walking towards the stands where the picture will be taken.

Charles was already there, following me with his eyes. He was already sitting in the tyre of his car, with his helmet resting on his thigh. I ignored his eyes and sat on the tyre of my car, looking at the camera with my helmet on my thigh, wishing this would end fast so I could take a lap on my car to place it on the grid.

“Are you okay?”

I frown, turning my head slowly and looking at Charles standing next to me. I laughed loudly, standing up. Did he really ask that?

“As if you cared” I laughed.

“You look pale. If you get sick today it won't be good for the team” he frowned.

“Mind your own shit, Leclerc” I said. “What I do is none of your business”

I walked away fast before he could talk to me more, not wanting to interact with him at all. I got inside of my car and after the track was clear, I drive to the postion I'm starting the race.

But things do not always go how I planned. The moment I got out of the car he was already there, looking at me with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Fuck off” I groaned.

“I heard you throw up this morning, Morelli” he frowned. “Remember our rooms are next to the other”

“So? Am I not allowed to feel sick?” I scoffed.

“Today is an important race for the team, Dafne!” he exclaimed. “If we want to keep the second position of the championship we have to be in the podium. And if you are not feeling well, that won't happen”

“Come on, don't make me laugh” I frowned. “I drove multiple races having the period, with cramps making me want to get out of the fucking car and curl in my bed! And did I do it? No, right? So shut the fuck up, focus on your own race and leave me alone”

I groaned, hugging the helmet and starting to walk away. But again, he's not satisfied with making me mad, so he keeps opening his mouth.

“Why did you bring that dude?”

I frown, turning around on my heels and frowning.

“Oh, now we are talking about my private life?” I laughed.

“He's too old for you” he frowned.

“Oh my God, shut up!” I exclaimed, walking closer to him. “Do you have something else to say? At least I am with someone that has a brain and a job and doesn't need my money to be someone. Oh, and he is way better in bed than you, asshole”

I saw him clenching his jaw as well as his fist, and I knew that it hurt him. Groaning, I turned around and walked towards the garage to have one last meeting with my engineers to have everything ready before the race.

I walked towards Sebastian once the meeting was done and he welcomed me with that shy smile he always has. He was on my side of the garage, opening his arms slowly as I walked closer to him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, wrapping his arms around my waist while I hugged his neck, playing with the baby hairs of his nape.

“I am” I sighed. “And you?”

“I’m excited to see my girl being an absolute badass out there” he smiled, making me freeze after I heard those words.

“Your girl?” I whisper. “S-Seb…”

“I know” he sighed, pressing his lips on my forehead. “We’ll talk after this, okay? Come back to me with the big trophy”

“I will” I smiled, playing with the hair of his nape and standing on my tip toes to press a fast kiss on his lips. “I have to go”

“Yeah” he smiled. “You’ll do amazing”

He unwrapped his arms from my waist, pressing another soft kiss on my lips before I walked away, with Soleil joining me on the grid.

“And that big smile?” she teased me, handing me the cold jacket and helping me put it.

“Well, Sebastian called me his girl” I chuckled softly. “I think tonight we are going to talk about… Well, us”

“Finally! Arthur owes me money!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.

“What? Did you make a bet with him? Why?” I frowned, confused, but somehow that smile didn’t disappear from my lips.

“Because it was obvious you two would end up together” she said. “He said it was going to be during the winter break, but I just said that it was going to be for sure tonight after the race”

“Idiots” I laughed, shaking my head.

The national anthem played, and I took my position alongside the other drivers. My mind was a spiral of thoughts and emotions. The weight of the season, the pressure of the race, and the looming conversation with Sebastian were all battling for dominance in my head. But most of all, I felt an inexplicable sense of unease in my body.

As the anthem concluded, my dizziness started creeping into my body. I blinked hard, trying to focus on the task ahead. Just one more race and I will rest.

The cars roared to life, and the anticipation in the air was electric. I strapped myself into my seat, hands gripping the wheel. Sebastian's words echoed in my mind, giving me a strange mix of comfort and determination. I glanced towards the garage, knowing he would be there, biting his lip like he always does when he’s nervous about something.

The race started, and I pushed all doubts aside. My car flew down the track, driving through the early chaos of the race with precision. But as the laps progressed, the dizziness got worse. Each turn required more concentration, each acceleration felt more hard.

On the 44th lap, I found Esteban Ocon in front of me. He had to let me pass because he had the blue flag. But he was fighting me, defending like he was defending his position.

“What the hell is he doing?” I groaned. “He has to let me pass! Fucking idiot!”

“Stay calm, Dafne. We sent the report to the stewards” my engineer said.

Some seconds after he seemed to understand that he couldn't fight, maybe he even received a penalty, so I just drove next to him, showing him my middle finger as I overtook him.

But then it happened.

He didn't give me enough space, making his front wing clip my rear tire, sending my car spinning out of control. I struggled to regain control, but the dizziness made it nearly impossible. The world around me tilted and swayed, the track blurring as I fought with the steering wheel.

I hit the barriers hard, the impact shaking my entire body. Pain exploded in my head, and the last things I remembered were the deafening sound of crunching metal, the voices of my engineer and Fred in my ears and the crowd screaming terrified before everything went black.

The sound of the beeping of a machine next to me was the first thing I heard when I started to wake up. Then I held the weight of another hand holding mine. When I started to take deep breaths, the smell of hospital and Sebastian's perfume filled my lungs, making me open my eyes and search for him with my eyes.

“S-Seb” I croaked, feeling a wave of pain in my neck when I moved my head.

“You are awake” he said softly, relief flooding his voice.

“What…”

“You had a crash” he sighed, smiling weakly. “Ocon lost control of his car and crashed into you… You've been unconscious for some hours, Daf…”

“The race” I mumbled, nervous.

“There was a red flag” he explained, rubbing my hand softly. “Until they took your car out of if the barriers and they translated you to the helicopter”

“Who won? The championship…” I mumbled concerned. “We lost it…”

“Fuck the championship. You could have died, Dafne” he sighed.

I swallowed thickly, looking away and closing my eyes, the memories coming back in fragments, repeating in my mind over and over again. The race, the dizziness, the impact.

“My family?” I whispered, swallowing thickly.

“I sent them to the hotel” he sighed. “They have been here since you arrived and they needed to rest, Dafne. I'll call them later, okay?”

Some minutes later, after Sebastian pressed a button, a doctor entered the room with a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a reassuring smile, holding a file and pressing it against her chest.

"Miss Morelli, how are you feeling?" the doctor asked, checking the monitors.

“Like I got hit by a truck” I sighed, smiling weakly.

“It's totally understandable. You had a severe concussion and some minor injuries, but nothing too serious" he said. "However, there is something else we need to discuss. We ran some tests to make sure everything was okay after the crash”

“Okay… and? How did they come out?” I asked confused, nervously.

“You are pregnant” the woman said, opening her file and showing me what looked like an ultrasound. “Three months pregnant, to be more precise”

“W-what?” I mumbled.

"The baby seems to be doing fine despite the crash, but you'll need to take it easy for a while.”

Pregnant. No. No, it can't be. Sebastian and I always used protection. Always. And I am on the pill.

“It's imposible” I said, looking at Sebastian and then back at the doctors. “No, I'm sure it's a mistake. I can't be pregnant. I'm on the pill! We use protection!”

“There are many possibilities, Miss Morelli” the woman said. “The condom could break… I saw in your medical file that you've got prescripted some antibiotics three months ago because of a throat infection. The antibiotics can take down the effects of the pill…”

The woman kept talking and talking, Sebastian's grip in my hand was tighter. But my mind only could repeat that scene from three months ago.

“Please, leave me alone” I mumbled, making the woman stop talking.

She and the other doctor nodded and walked out, closing the door behind them.

Three months. My mind raced, trying to piece it together. The timing... it couldn't be. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt a mixture of emotions swirling inside me. Anger, disgust, fear, panic.

“Talk to me” I heard Sebastian whisper, squeezing my hand again. “Dafne, please say something”

“I don't know what to say” I whisper, feeling my throat closing with panic.

“We can do this together, okay?” he smiled weakly. “Maybe this wasn't how we wanted, but… God, Dafne, the past few months made me realize that I really like you”

“Sebastian…”

“I know it's not the perfect timing, but I promise I will take care of you two, hm? I can take a break from filming, we can… We can buy a house, what do you think? So our baby can grow up happy. Yeah, we can do that. We will live together, hm?”

“Sebastian”

He's going to hate me.

“And I know you might not like it, but you can't race…”

Oh, that was what broke me.

“It's not yours!” I exclaimed.

“What?” he mumbled, the smile on his lips disappearing slowly.

“This baby” I whisper. “It's not yours. It's Charles'”

Sebastian's grip on my hand tightened slightly, but he didn't say anything immediately. I could see the hurt flicker across his face, masked by a veil of confusion.

“That fucking idiot” I spat, feeling the anger burning in my veins, getting rid of his grip in my hand. “Of all people it had to be him! Why?!”

“Dafne, calm down…” I heard Sebastian say.

“Calm down? Calm down?!” I exclaimed.

“We'll do this together, okay?” he said, trying to reach my hand again. “I'll be next to you-”

“No” I said quickly. “Leave me alone”

“Dafne…”

“I said leave me alone!” I said louder. “Get out, please! Get out! I don't need your pitty, I don't need you!”

He clenched his jaw, looking at me with pain in his eyes. But that pain is nothing compared to the one I'm feeling right now.

“I need to be alone” I whispered, feeling a wave of panic.

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, hurt and confusion filling in his eyes. Finally, he nodded silently and stood up, his shoulders down, defeated. He paused at the door, casting one last worried glance at me before leaving the room.

Alone in the hospital bed, the anger that had fueled my outburst began to disappear, leaving behind a terrible ache. I felt disgusted. Disgusted at the situation, at Charles, at myself for letting this happen. How could I have been so careless? How could I have let him go this far?

The tears that I had been holding back finally spilled over, tracing silent paths down my cheeks. I was scared of what this pregnancy meant for my career, for my relationship with Sebastian, for everything I had worked so hard to achieve.

I was so lost. I will lose my career. My family will be disappointed. The team, the media will hate me. Sebastian probably hates me, I'm not carrying his child.

What am I going to do?

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots

160 notes · View notes