#she did her best to help him have a normal life in a broken household | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notlycheesden · 4 years ago

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Rearview Mirror

Heyyo ✌🏻 this is my first written piece for Endeavor , as a gift for my friend @kogo for the evil exchange. so I hope you like it my dude 👍🏻. A piece I will def be coming back to write more for sure.

⤍ Endeavour x reader

⤍ 3.6k

⤍ TW.incest, TW.dubcon, TW.father/daughter

⤍ Summary:

Enji was trying to be a better father, a better man.

And you never lied to him.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

Everything was always red between the both of you.

It's past four when his phone rings.

He was awake. even on his day off -those becoming more frequent now- years of routine were still strong. His body alert and aware way before the break of dawn for hours of training before patrol, and later to go to his own agency, the literal empire that wouldn't run itself.

He was pretending to be asleep, unmovable laying on his stomach, face buried on his pillow. Deep breaths in and out in a rhythmic pattern. His massive frame takes most of his king-size bed that for more than a decade he slept right in the middle, no reason to let the right side of it unoccupied.

It was almost meditation-like. There in the quiet and calm of his bedroom between his sheets, he could organize -or at least try- his thoughts. A time in his day where he gets lost in self-reflection. The things he would have to do that day, what work in his agency he would have to supervise, and even stubbornly he would do a little steaming out, analyzing his “actions and emotions”, passing commentary from the resident agency therapist threw his way.

“A strict but good man, if not for some, mishaps, from your intense and fiery nature.” was his professional opinion about Endeavor. The man really lived to throw things his way.

It used to help calm his turbulent mind. But lately there was nothing in his head but turmoil.

It was something he would do until 6 AM, when he couldn't take any longer and had to get up, body and muscles aching from staying in bed for too long, the sun already rising on the horizon, painting the sky with yellows, pinks, and reds.

The silence of his room is broken by the ring of his phone. Instead of the familiar tone of the morning alarm, it was his normal ringtone. When he opens his eyes, the room was not bright as he expects, still shrouded by darkness. Endeavor sits on his bed at once, alert.

Getting it from the bedside table quickly, his posture falls when he catches the time and the already saved contact of who was calling him: Natsuo.

Enji picks up, but before he could question the call, the time, or even say hello, Natsuo speaks, voice grave and serious.

“You need to pick up your daughter right now.”

It’s a punch to the gut. One that makes all the air from his lungs escape at once. In a second, he feels like he is thrown into a rollercoaster.

The only thing he can muster in his shock is a guttural and deep bark of incredulity “What?”

Natsuo cuts Enji off immediately. His tone triggering him into snapping, memories hushing in -not the time for this- “She just called. She was a crying mess, begged me to come for her but I live two hours away-Shouto is on patrol and not picking up and Fuyumi is with her fiance's family at the onsen-”

Enji inhales sharply. Dread takes hold of him while he can't even see straight with the sudden rush of adrenaline, sirens blasting off in his head.

“She was supposed to be with fuyumi at the onsen.” His voice echoes back at him in his bedroom walls, he doesn't realize he is shouting.

“Look, this is really not the time. She has no money and her phone’s dead. I was able to get her to tell me an address before the call dropped. she's all alone there. Are you gonna pick her up?”

Natsuo calms his own breaths now after snapping and shouting back, and he can hear shuffling noises on his father’s side of the line. The older man was up in a second, not really seeing anything, rushing through his stuff picking his keys and wallet. He hates the way his father could make him snap so easily.

Enji was completely distraught.“She said she was going to be with fuyumi…” He mutters under his breath while running through the corridors, even forgetting the phone by his ear, his son still on the line.

But Natsuo hates even more the blatant difference in the way his father treated all of them and you in comparison. Always. Like he could fix his mistakes. Hide his sins.

“Well. Think your little princess lied to you old man.”

Enji didn't even register the venom in his son's words, nor when he hangs up on him.

He’s out of the house in a blink. He tries not to rip the door out of its hinges on his way out.

——

He drives fast, almost no other car in the streets making it easier to speed up in his nervous state. The GPS voice droning about the directions, a forty-minute drive that he would make in twenty.

you said you were going to spend the weekend with your sister.

You lied to him.

Enji’s heart hammers in his chest and his flames burst multiple times on his face out of control. His grip on the wheel tightens to ground his shaking hands, his jaw set with such force that he could feel a headache already forming.

Thoughts were flying through his mind a mile a second. Where are you? What happened to you? Who were you with? Were you safe? Why were you crying?

Why did you lie to him?

It was like his heart was being squeezed by dread and being broken at the same time.

You were his youngest. After he realized what he did to his children as a father, he tried his best to do better; connect, communicate, but he was emotionally and socially stunted -Thanks doc.- and by the time he tried to reach out, it was just a little too late.

Fuyumi was the pillar of the household, replacing their mother too much young and having to fit in a mould not meant to be hers, barely holding the treads of the family and house together. Natsuo was out of the front door as soon as he finished high school and got into med school, choosing to live in the dorms and work part-time rather than stay at the manor. Shoto was another history in itself.

And there was you, a couple of years younger than your now up-in-the-ranks pro hero brother, at the time just a pipsqueak. Too young to remember Rei, remember the worst of Endeavor.

And when he tried to connect, you were there. As if just waiting. Wanting your father to look at you. Frail and innocent and just in want of care, of attention, of love. You welcomed him into your life with open arms and heart.

Enji did try to make it right by you. And for some time things were progressing, even his other children were starting to turn their heads around his direction.

Until Touya’s incident.

The media cracked down on him and his family with a vengeance, almost nothing was left unturned or whole.

Natsuo was the first to cut ties. Shouto threw himself into his hero work, completely closing himself off. Even Fuyumi decided that she was done, took the next step, and went to live with her now fiance, completely ignoring whatever Enji tried to shout about costumes or honor.

Then it was just the two of you.

He tried to be a good father.

He was a quiet man in his private life, strict and with a violent nature, but he reached out for outside help to make it right. An older and trustworthy housekeeper to not chain his daughter down at the manor, guidance from therapist to help him become a better father, a better man, anything to do right this time.

Call it atonement, call it his redemption, call it hypocrisy, he didn't care.

He only cares that at the end of the day, you were there at his side, happy.

This morning he saw the note on the fridge.

Going to onee-san family trip,

Be back on Sunday.

You never had lied to him before.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

——-

The music blasting through the night tipped him off even before his car's GPS tells him he arrived at the destined location.

He parks way down the street and assesses the place inside the darkness of his car.

Enji’s way out of the city now and inside the industrial district, the building seems old and falling to pieces, people are lingering all around the street, but it’s thicker there. At surface level the building was empty, but the music was definitely coming from there.

He dreads the worst.

Getting out of the car still in his sleeping sweatpants and tee, he throws the hood of his workout jacket over his hair to conceal himself. He’s going for discretion, get you and get out, no need to make this a public affair. Not with this, not with you, not right now.

He searches around but still can't find you. Half an hour has passed since Natsuo called. He's in a frenzy. Endeavor forces himself to calm down and think.

His son didn't mention music. He looks far into the street and he can see the entrance of an alleyway, he hushes there.

His stomach tied in knots when he sees in the dark your small figure crouched down beside a dumpster. your shoulders ate shaking with silent sobs holding your dead phone for dear life, trying to make yourself smaller than you already were, head down.

Enji barks your name and your head snaps to the entrance of the alleyway in shock, your body trembling and fat tears running down your smudged makeup.

“Daddy!”

In a second you were up and running, throwing your body against him and hugging his middle. He doesn't know what to do first, but he opts for following his instincts. Enji hugs your shaking form, shushing you lightly while petting your head. He doesn't know if it's him or you who's shaking more.

He doesn't remember how, but he manages to walk both of you to his car without being seen, his hulking form covering your smaller one.

He's shaking. When Enji puts you in the passenger seat and the car lights momentarily shine everything in an amber glow, rage fills his chest. You are in a dress he has never seen before, he knows it was not yours. He would never allow a thing like that or let you use it in public. Your makeup that before being ruined by your smudging and crying, was heavy and meant to seduce.

He closes your door and gets in the car.

He's shaking.

——

Enji can only control himself enough to not rip the wheel or step on the gas right through the flooring for only three blocks. and thank the gods again for the hour, because he could not quite see the streets in front of him. If they weren't deserted while he drives double the velocity permitted, it would be likely that the fears of his family being again under the cruel and ravenous judgment of the public eye would become reality, although for a completely different reason from the ones he has been dreading until this point.

When he reaches the fourth block, he makes a sudden stop, turning and parking harshly with the front of the car almost all the way over the curb, the tires skidding loudly into the quiet of the night and scaring you out of your still shell shock state. your small sniffles stop when you let out a muted yelp of surprise.

Enji quickly pries his hands that have a death grip on the wheel and smash the roof of the car to turn the lights on in such a way that later he’s impressed he didn't send the entire ceiling flying. As fast as he did that and the darkness of the car is now cast in warm gold, his hands are on your small frame like a striking snake, a big calloused one gripping your face between meaty fingers, squeezing your wet cheeks and the other one in your far shoulder, turning you in his direction with a barely controlled yank. Enji wasn't sure if the shaking was coming from your body or his.

He's frantic, hectic, eyes going up and down your body trying to find anything, something. “Are you hurt? tell me,” His voice is harsh, too loud into the small space. You jump startled, but his grip locks you in place, he doesn't notice.

Why did you come to a party? Why are you dressed like this? Why did you do this?

“Are you?? Someone did something? Gave you something, touched you?” He barks again louder, bending and twisting to be in your face now, eyes scanning all over your body. But again and again, they would be drawn to the too short hem of your dress, from your ruined tearstained makeup and down again to your soft and creamy thighs, trying to find a mark, a scratch, a stain. Anything, something.

“Fucking answer me!”

“Dad please!”

Enji lets you go as if you just slap him in the face. He blinks.

You are shaking. Looking at him in fear, silent tears running down your cheeks. Your jaw is set as you try to hold your whimpers back, his fingers make red marks bloom on your face and arm under his digits.

Memories come back rushing. Phantoms scourging in blue flames.

He releases you as if you burn him.

His hands hover in place, and he doesn't dare to move, still crowding you. Both of you staring at each other in fear and confusion as if something would break.

He slowly backs away, and you keep still. He turns the light off and stares at the road.

Enji couldn't take more things between both of you breaking.

He takes a deep breath. Starts the car again to drive back home.

——

Friday nights are your nights.

Enji doesn't really remember when it started. But he knows it wasn't something that was spoken of or agreed beforehand. It happened once, then twice, then his job got in the way, then thrice, and when he noticed, it was a routine between him and his daughter.

Like most things between both of you, it just… fell into place. And it just felt right.

Endeavor would arrange his schedule in a way so that his Fridays would be empty, any emergency at the agency could be easily solved that way, patrols and hero work set on the weekends so he could come home at a sensible hour, just by dinnertime.

He would be just taking his blazer and shoes off at the entrance when Enji would hear your running steps from the kitchen, your pinky apron-clad figure hushing to meet him with a bright smile, eyes shining.

you would get a hold of his tie and gently tug down for him to bend at the waist to your level, your arms were thrown in a warm hug on his neck and a sweet and lengthy kiss on his cheek after he steps through the threshold. you would giggle against his face from the tickles you got from his stubble while warmly welcoming him, the food still hot on the table.

It was one of your multiple habits together, just the two of you. And it felt right.

It was routine. And it felt so domestic, warm and right.

Friday nights are your nights. After he gets home, you guys have dinner, something you cooked by yourself, sending the older housemaid away earlier.

Sometimes it is a new recipe, sometimes something you already tried before. But it's always good, and when Enji compliments your cooking skills and how much he enjoys it, your cheeks blush red. You daintly try to hide your smile as you thank him, bashful behavior so alluring even when he knows is just a little act, playing coy. There's warmth in his chest.

The lights in the dining room cast everything in this whimsical warm glow and maybe it's the beer, but Enji thinks it reflects lovely on you and the color of your blouse today. He says so.

“Looking so pretty tonight, princess.”

The red on your cheeks grow stronger. From across the table, he hides his smirk behind his can at seeing how you fidget in place, trying to contain your coquettish smile while biting your plush bottom lip. The warmth spreads lower.

Only later it dawns on him. Enji was flirting with his own daughter. And it was a habit.

It was routine.

Enji is sprawled on the big sofa comfortably, already showered and in his sleeping clothes after dinner, the second movie of the night halfway through.

It was a period drama and he tries to pay attention to the main points for your quiz about it the next day, but he was mostly checked out, lulled by the comfy dark of the living room, the buzz of the beers he drank, sleep and your warm body draped over his.

He doesn't really remember when it started, but he knows it was gradually. One day in your Friday movie nights, he notices you were glued on his side, and on the next one you had an arm draped over his torso while both of you were laying on the reclining couch, and since then, you were always over him, arms and thighs and breasts glued to his body, but most of the time cutely laying on his chest.

That night was no different. You are laying on his broad chest, using your arm as leverage to look down and back at the tv in front of the sofa, and for you to not slip he has one big palm over your waist and the other in a secure hook on the slope of your knee, propping your bent leg higher across his stomach. Your breathing matches his, and if not by your little grunts and noises of surprise, the redhead would have thought you had fallen asleep on him. It would not be the first time.

The clothes you are using are small and had hiked up a long time ago, a loose tank top and booty shorts, both of them old and worn out, sleep clothes.

From where he was, he could see all your body over his. From the crown of your head to the slope of your waist as it dipped under his scarred hand. His gaze follows the curve of your thigh draped over his waist to the fat of your ass pointing high. He muses in a daze that he could see the inside of your tank top, the soft swell of a breast making an appearance. He leers.

You move a little, and this time, he can make out the shade of a nipple. It’s pert and small and pretty, and blood rushes to his clothed cock, but is late, and he's tired and buzzed out. It doesn’t connect in his mind.

You move. you are getting yourself higher on his chest. Enji feels small hands wandering under his shirt. Presses of lips on his neck. Wet kisses on the stubble on his jaw.

The soft touches pull him deeper. There's a young and wanton body over his. It’s been so long since he truly touched another, let himself be touched. Smooth lips and an uncertain tongue were kissing him, and he wants to devour them. It’s hot and burns and makes his insides coil, his cock hard and heavy inside his pants. A warm slit humping it.

Could have been the tiredness, the beer, the comfort of the situation, anything really.

Enji kisses you like a man starved. Head moving and ravaging your much smaller mouth with his tongue. His hand yanks your tank top down exposing your breasts, and now he’s pulling and pinching the sweet nipples in a way that makes you moan against his tongue with a voice he couldn't recognize.

His other hand was down at your ass, guiding your movements back and forth on his erection with vigor, the friction against your slit makes you weak, but he keeps you moving, his calloused hand encompassing most of your behind. At each needy thrust his fingers would slide down between the cleft of your ass more and more.

His meaty fingers push the bottons of your shorts aside with a flick of his wrist, and now he's touching directly your puffy lips that are messy and wet all over. Enji growls in your mouth as you moan louder when he starts playing with your pussy, a pitched whine as he flicks your clit up and down, a strong hold on your breast.

A loud bang from the TV is what snaps him back to reality.

It was his daughter.

His daughter was over him. It was his daughter that was humping his cock, that he was sucking her small tongue and tweaking her nipples until he made her squeal.

He jumps to his feet and throws you across the couch.

Different from him, you look wide awake. Flushed face and startled eyes stares up at him, exposed breasts still heaving. Nipples rosy and hard. Between your legs, a glistening trail of where his fingers dragged when he ripped them off of you. Your shorts are drenched.

There's a moment of silence.

Enji snaps. He sprints to his bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room.

He locks his door, drops to the floor, and whips his hard and heavy cock out. in three pumps, thick ropes of cum cover his hand and clothed middle.

Taking big gulps of air trying to calm his breathing, his eyes glancing everywhere in a panic state, he looks down, and spot the wet patch on his clothed thigh. Yours juices that leaked on him. Its still in his other hand, fingers wet.

Enji wants to cry.

He tried to be a good father.

He ruined it again.

#endeavor x reader #Enji Todoroki #Endeavor #Enji todoroki x reader

1K notes · View notes

slasherhaven · 3 years ago

Note

how would the slashers be when they have a crush on there future s/o and when the s/o breaks up with there boyfriend/girlfriend? the slashers and s/o are friends, so the s/o goes to them crying/ to be comforted telling them what happen, how would the slashers react?

The Slashers reacting to their Future S/O coming to them for comfort after ending their current relationship:

Thomas Hewitt

As soon as you finished speaking with you partner, now ex-partner, you headed to the Hewitt household because you needed to see Thomas. He always made you feel better.

You knocked on the door and Luda May let you in, seeing the tears in your eyes. You’ve known the family for so long that she considers you family, she offers to talk to you and make you something to drink but you just told her that you were there to see Thomas. She understands and tells you where he is.

When Thomas sees you, he knows that something is wrong and is instantly worried.

You just sighed, hurrying over to him and wrapping your arms around him. He instantly returned your hug, holding you and letting you cry if you needed too.

He will listen to you talk about what happened, wanting to know everything, wanting to help you anyway he can.

He hates them. He hates them for hurting you. But he quickly forgets about them, focusing on you once again. You’re what’s important.

Thomas knows that he loves you but he had accepted that you were with somebody else. You were his best friend, his only friend, and you meant the world to him.

He absolutely means it when he tells you that you’re the best thing that they would ever have and that you would find somebody who realises that.

Maybe that was the moment that you truly saw what had been in front of you this whole time, that Thomas was the one who thought you were the best thing he had ever seen, the person who would appreciate you how you deserved.

Michael Myers

How you ended up befriending Michael Myers is a mystery. You were probably childhood friends and he must trust you a whole lot to be okay with you having a normal social life.

Still, he is your friend who has been dealing with some very confusing romantic feelings for you, so he is extremely protective of you.

When you come home teary eyed, he assumes somebody hurt you and is furious. Not that you could tell unless you noticed the clenching of his fists.

You just blurt it out when you see him. “We broke up!” he wasn’t expecting that...

He could....kill them for you? Oh, you don’t want that? And you’re quick to tell him that you don’t want him to kill them because you knew what he was thinking as soon as he moved towards the door.

Michael is just silent so you can only guess he is listening as you talk, telling him that it was for the best.

He’s not going to make a move to comfort you, but his presence is kind of comforting, at least to you. He was there to protect you and he was, seemingly, listening.

In the end, Michael didn’t really know what to do but you seemed satisfied with just having him around when you were upset. So...he just stayed while you worked through it.

Jason Voorhees

You spent as much time with Jason as you could but you still had a life outside of the abandoned camp and he understood that. You were his friend and he didn’t want to take that away from you.

He loved your visits and hearing about your life, it was a bit of normalcy for him. He is nearly completely selfless when it comes to you, he would do anything for you, and despite his growing feelings for you he listened to you talk about your partner and supported you.

Jason was overjoyed when he saw you approaching his cabin, always glad to see you, but he quickly became concerned when he saw the sadness on your face. Something had happened...

He’s quick to approach you, greeting you and asking if you’re alright.

He’s comforted you before over things, but he was still a little surprised when you just hugged him, telling him everything.

He’d hold you without a single complaint, and he would listen to everything you had to say.

Of course he welcomes you into the cabin, ready to help in whatever way he can. If you want something to eat or drink, he’ll get it, he’s been keeping better food around since you started visiting. He would also get you a blanket just to make you comfortable.

You would probably stay at the cabin that night with Jason, he was your best friend and he always made you feel better. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else after having a bad day.

Brahms Heelshire

You and Brahms had an agreement. You would stay after discovering the truth but you had to be able to have a normal life.

He is an incredibly jealous person but you were the best thing to enter his life in a very long time, as long as your partner never came into the house he could try to look past it.

He knew it was wrong and he actually felt bad about it but he was glad that you and your partner had broken up. Now he could finally have you all to himself.

But how sad you looked when you returned home just made his heart ache for you.

Despite you and Brahms having grown very close, you didn’t expect a sympathetic reaction when you told him about the break up.

You knew he was jealous, that he had a crush on you (he wasn’t good at hiding it), and you thought he would be happy.

However, you were pleasantly surprised when Brahms innocently pulled you into an embrace. “I’m sorry, Y/n” he touched the lips of his mask to the top of your head before stroking your hair.

It wasn’t what you expected but you were grateful for it, tightening the hug as you buried your face in his chest, glad for the comfort.

He can be surprising comforting, holding you and reassuring you. He’s very honest with his opinions, saying that they didn’t deserve you, that you are too good for them, and that you belong here with him.

And, well, it was difficult to disagree as you made yourself comforting on the couch as he held you.

Bo Sinclair

As soon as you walked into the house, Bo was about to come and greet you with a flirty comment and a smirk but stopped when he saw your face. You looked upset.

He didn’t falter too much, asking you what happened. Then you told him that you and your partner had broken up, and you came right here.

Even though you had made it clear that you had been in a relationship and just his friend, Bo enjoyed flirting with you.

But now, for once, he wasn’t flirting. He let out a sigh and started to act more seriously.

“C’mere darlin’” Bo’s voice was surprisingly soft as he guided you towards him. He genuinely cared about you, you were one of the few people he cared about, and he didn’t like seeing you upset, especially because of some asshole who didn’t know what they had. “It’ll be alright.”

His embrace was comforting, making you feel safe, and you allowed yourself to just let go and be vulnerable.

Bo is not good at comforting people but he’ll hold you if you need it. Then he’ll grab two beers and let you talk about what happened.

Deciding to be a decent person, he would lay off of you for a little while until you seemed to be doing better, but then you can bet that the flirting is going to be more than ever now that you’re single.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent loved whenever you visited, it stunned him that you visited at all. You left Ambrose, you didn’t have to return, but you always did. All because you were his friend.

What he hates most is seeing you upset, he just thinks you deserve all the happiness in the world.

So when you knock on the door of his workroom and he opens it to see your teary eyes, he just wants to help.

Of course he ushers you inside, expressing his concern and asking what was wrong.

You tell him everything about the breakup and were honest about how you felt.

When you asked him if he could just be with you for a while, he instantly agrees and holds you for as long as you need.

Vincent is a little more surprised when you asked him if you could stay with them for a little while, at least tonight. You really didn’t feel like driving home but you hadn’t packed to stay in town. But he agrees, understanding that you didn’t want to be alone.

When Bo asks what the hell is going on, Vincent give him the short story that you had broken up with your partner, and of course Bo patted his twin on the shoulder and told him go for it.

Yes, Vincent had feelings for you and both of his brothers thought it was obvious but you didn’t seem to be aware of them. However, Vincent was more concerned about making sure you were alright than trying to confess his feelings for you.

Now simply wasn’t the time and in the end he just wanted the best for you.

Lester Sinclair

After the break up, you went to the first person you thought of. Lester.

You didn’t feel like seeing Bo and dealing with him, so you went straight to Lester’s house outside of town. But he wasn’t there.

You were best friends and you were often at his house, so you just let yourself in and waited for him.

When Lester returned home, he saw your car and was just excited to see you. He entered the house with a grin, assuming you would be in a normal mood and greet him with a hug as usual.

You did technically greet him with a hug but he had seen the teary look on your face as you embraced him.

Lester instantly wrapped his arms around you, asking what was wrong as he comforted you. He just wanted to hold you and make sure you were okay.

You had told him about your partner before and how things had been different recently and, despite his feelings for you, Lester always told you that things would be okay and that it would work out.

He would let you stay at his house, just being a supportive and caring friend that he always was.

“Thank you Lester, you’re the best” he hates that you’re upset and that you were hurt by somebody you cared about, but he smiled slightly into your hair as he held you.

He would do right by you, he promised himself that.

Bubba Sawyer

As soon as you show up at the Sawyer household, clearly upset, Bubba is worried about you.

He’s your best friend so of course you went to him after the break up, and once the two of you went to his room to sit down, you told him everything.

Bubba didn’t really know what to do. He wanted to tell you that everything would be okay, that he’s here for you, and you got the general idea of that from his noises of concern.

He wishes he could more easily express those reassurances but will settle for just holding you, whether you need to cry or not.

And he’s a great listener! He’ll let you talk about it for as long as you need.

Bubba will hold you and comfort you as much as you need but if you need to just forget everything for a little while get him, Nubbins and ChopTop together to cheer you up. You’re family now and they don’t want you to be sad.

Billy Lenz

How does one befriend a pervert living in your attic that keeps making inappropriate phone calls to your house? You don’t even know, it was a bit of a blur. You just grew used to him, you finally met him, and now he was pretty much your best friend.

It was actually more surprising to Billy than to you.

After the break up, you returned home and were met with a silent house.

As if he was waiting for you, the phone starting ringing only seconds later. You answered it but Billy instantly heard that something was wrong just from your voice.

When he asked what was wrong, you simply told him that you and your partner had broken up.

He instantly hung up the phone and for a moment you thought that was it, until you heard him scampering down the stairs in a hurry to get to you.

You are his best friend, his only friend, and he cares deeply for you.

He can still make inappropriate comments and jokes but you were used to them. You also had a feeling that he had a crush on you, just from the way he acted, but you weren’t thinking about any of that in that moment.

Billy was quickly asking you if you were alright and pulling you into a hug, assuming that was what he was meant to do. You assured him that you were fine, just upset by it all.

Billy can be unpredictable and not really the most supportive or reliable person but he was trying really hard, listening to you tell him everything that happened.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

You had told Asa about your relationship before. Despite being a little cold at times, he had somehow become a close friend so of course you mentioned it too him.

At first he didn’t seem to care too much but he eventually started to become more interested, like he wanted information on your relationship. Unknown to you, this was happening because he was starting to accept his feelings for you.

Anyway, he instantly knew something was wrong when you arrived at his house. You knocking on the door and him opening it to see your saddened face.

He invites you in and quite bluntly asks you what happened, and you confess that you and your partner broke up.

Yes, of course he is interest in this. He has developed feelings for you and now you were single, that’s an interesting development.

However, you are his friend first and he does genuinely care about you.

So, he pushed away those thoughts and listens to you talk about what happened, even comforting you when you need it.

You see a softer side of Asa when you’re upset and he’s attempting to comfort you.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

You had started out working for Jesse as an assistant (well, that was your title) and the two of you had become close friends while working together.

You swore that you spent more time with him than your partner, and maybe that had been one reason for your break up.

As soon as you and your partner broke up, you texted Jesse the short version. Something as simple as: “Broke up. Need to talk” and he instantly sent a car for you.

If Jesse cares about you, he will do anything for you. You’re his friend and he’s well aware of his deeper feelings for you, so he’s not going to let you deal with this on your own.

If you’re angry with them, you can rant as much as you like and he’ll listen. If you’re upset, he’ll let you cry against him.

He’ll tell you that you’re too good for them, that you deserve better and that he’s sure you’ll find that person soon. He’s...surprisingly supportive?

And he’s taking you out! Whatever you want to do, he’ll arrange it. His best friend is heartbroken and it’s his job to fix that. Anything for you.

Jesse hates them for hurting you but won’t hurt them for your sake (I mean...unless you want him too, I guess), break ups happen and he knows that. Plus, he has to admit that he’s never thought your partner was good enough for you, and of course...he has had a thing for you for a while now.

Otis Driftwood

When you show up to the house, upset and searching for Otis, he isn’t quite sure what to do with that. If you came in angry at your ex, shouting and frustrated, he could work with that, purposely riling you up.

But you’re calm, just effected by the fresh break.

Otis isn’t great at comforting people, he has next to no experience with it so he’s not completely sure what to do.

If you want your ex dead, he can do that but...if you don’t he’s a little more lost as to how to help. Thankfully, you talked him out of killing your ex and he settled for other ways to comfort you.

If you want some sort of physical comfort, just hug him. He’s not going to push you away, he’ll hold you when you cry or hold you just because you want to be held. It will be quiet but peaceful, and he remembers that he likes holding you like this.

He lets you talk about the break up as much as you want, listening surprisingly intently.

Do you need a drink? Something stronger? If yes to any of these, he will get you what you need and the two of you will just have a good time to cheer you up.

Otis is a particular taste but he always manages to make you smile.

Baby Firefly

As soon as you show up on her doorstep with tears in your eyes, she has a good idea what happened because you always confided in her about your relationship.

She invites you in and she comforts you.

Baby is the best at making you feel better because you know that when she tells you that you are amazing, she means it.

She’s quickly telling you that you can do better and that they didn’t know what they had, it’s their loss.

Oh and, if you let her, she is taking you out! She hates seeing you sad and she wants to cheer you up. She wants to take you out and help you have some fun.

And who knows, maybe you’ll realise the right person for you has been right by your side this whole time.

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wizkiddx · 3 years ago

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living and reviving II

yep when I said three parts I think I meant 4 oops

summary: an overdue conversation that has to happen - like it or not

warnings: cheating, swearing, pregnancy talk, lots more angst, think thats it?

tomhollandxreader

/////////////////////// prev

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

That had been three weeks ago.

And it still fucking hurt like hell.

It had ended up that Yamna had taken you back to hers, where you had stayed for a couple nights. During that couple of days, Tom had tried. He had tried to apologise, tried to explain, tried to fix things. But it just wasn’t that easy.

Whatever he said, it didn’t take back from the fact that he had in that moment meant it. So no amount of sorrys could ever take that back.

After everyone had realised just how serious their situation was, Tom had moved out of your shared flat - so you could at least be in the place you were comfortable. Afterall the nursery was built in your flat and clearly it was you doing all the baby stuff for the moment. Thankfully Yamna, having been cut loose so without job, offered to move in with you. Which was probably the only thing keeping you going.

Well, that and ben and jerrys ‘phish food’. Honestly the shop must think you’re running some sort of ice cream black market at the rate you’re getting through their tubs.

Everyone kept parroting that it wasn’t good for the baby. Too much ice cream . Too much heavy lifting. Too much stress.

And yes, it probably was. But that was out of your control . The stress and lack of man in the household meant you had to do the heavy lifting of shopping from the car up the stairs. Shopping meaning ice cream, which you only depended on so much because of the stress.

It was a vicious cycle of hell.

Even Yamna, the person you were relying on keeping you sane had started walking on eggshells. It was as though you were literally about to pop, she always had to have at least half an eye on you. You were even banned from locking the toilet door - just in case.

It felt like you were a captive animal, people kept coming to observe you, giving sad looks before gleeing the scene.

You hadn’t been sleeping well either. Of course, being 3 weeks of your due date didn’t help - but neither did the lack of Tom. In fact, for the first time since shit had hit the fan, you had actually been managing to get some decent sleep when Yamna knocked on your bedroom door, quietly calling your name.

“I’m asleep” Groaning, you pulled the covers further over your head, praying to god that she’d leave you alone. But of course that wasn’t happening, she just lightly chuckled before you felt the bed dip - she had perched on the edge… Toms side.

“You never normally sleep talk.”

“I’m never normally this sleep deprived.” She sighed, whilst you still stubbornly kept your eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I woke you…. but this is important.”

“What?” Almost grunting, you threw the covers down looking up at her in anticipation. That was another thing about pregnancy - you were always on high alert, always worried.

“Toms here.”

“Tell him to f off.” Quickly you stopped caring about what your bestmate had to say.

“He’s saying that he’s the little ones dad and that he deserves to be involved and…. and I think I might agree.”

“I deserve a boyfriend who stays loyal to me so clearly neither of us are getting what we want.” You weren’t angry at Yamna and snapping at her wasn’t the answer. And yet you still did it.

“Y/n….I love you and I am completely on your side. I just think that maybe, perhaps, you should at least manage to be civil before baby arrives. Otherwise… thats going to be a lot to deal with all at once.”

It was your turn to sigh, deep and heavy (or at least as deep as the baby let). Most infuriatingly she was right. The conversation had to happen at some point. With a baby there too it would only be even more traumatic.

“He’s here now?” It only dawned on you how broken you actually sounded when the words croaked out of you.

“Yeh hunny… I didn’t let him inside so he’s standing outside the door looking like a dickhead right now.” The image cheered you up a little, enough to sit up in bed and be wrapped in Yamna’s arms. Her actions said it all, she really only meant the best for you and knew how hard this would be. After a moment she leant back. “I almost considered calling the paps so they could get a picture and label him as a groveling dick.”

“You should of.” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the answer had you both laughing. It took a minute to calm down before she changed subject slightly.

“You want me to make myself scarce? I can hide in my room or go to the shops or-“

“Text the guy from the bar - you deserve a night off ‘babysitting Y/n’ duties.”

“I’m not babys-“

“Yes you are. Go out with him and have some fun, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeh”

That was a bare face lie - but Yamna had been almost too good to you. She really really needed a break. Especially as the current plan was she’d be helping with the newborn too. Right now you wouldn’t have wished a baby on yourself - never mind your best mate.

“Okay, get ready then babe - but do it slowly, leave him waiting outside in the cold for as long as possible.”

“Obviously.” You laughed, hauling yourself out of bed, where she gave you one more encouraging hug before leaving.

After hearing Yamna leave, and brushing your hair and throwing on a new pair of trakkies and hoodie, you slowly walked towards the door. It felt as though impending doom were on the other side and every fibre of you wanted to scream and run the other way. But it just had to happen at some point. Why not now?

With a final sharp exhale, attempting to pull yourself together, you opened the door. Immediately your heart sank, seeing nothing. Had you really been that long? And even so, was a 10 minute wait enough for him to give up? You could already feel the hormonal pregnancy tears starting to spring, when a grunt drew your attention.

What you hadn’t considered was the fact Tom was ready to camp out, sitting on the floor beside your door. Springing to his feet, he seemed shocked you’d actually opened the door - makes two of you. When Yamna left she had told him you were coming, but seeing really is believing.

“Y/n! I-I… I wasn’t sure you were ever going to answer.”

“You and me both.” You replied dryly, still leaning on the door. “Do you er…. do you want to come in?” Again he seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t sure you meant it.

“Is that-that okay?” Shrugging you just nodded, stepping back so he could get in. He did pay half the mortgage afterall.

“You want a drink?” He quickly declined your offer, not vocally but instead rushing past you to the kitchen and turning the kettle on himself.

“Your the pregnant one. Go chill on the sofa, I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

And a bit taken a back by his forcefulness you followed instructions, from the sofa watching how effortlessly he danced round the kitchen. It wasn’t shocking, it was technically his kitchen too. But seeing him there felt so alien, almost transporting you back to much much simpler times. Seemed a lifetime ago.

After a couple of minutes, he rounded the sofa with a hot chocolate in one hand for you (because caffiene is bad for the baby) and a cup of Yorkshire tea in the other.

“So… how have you been?”

“Ate a lot of ben and jerrys” You answered without really answering, except he knew you all too well.

“That bad?” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow “how about the baby?”

“I don’t tend to carry an ultrasound on me but she’s been keeping me up all night kicking - so normal I guess.”

“Thats good” He spoke before realising what he said. “Sorry no I um-I don’t mean it like that!” You all but laughed in the face of his flusteredness, only making the tips of his ears go pinker.

“I assume you had something to say and that you came here for a reason rather than just pity me?”

“I want to make things right Y/n - I-I mean your having my kid.”

“OUR kid”

“ Exactly! And-and I love you too and-“

“Bullshit” You may have murmured it under your breath but you had intended for him to hear.

“Oh come one Y/n, you know that!”

It was like the man was asking to be yelled at.

“Don’t sit there trying to patronise me! I THOUGHT i knew it but then I saw you all over another girl. So yes, I’m calling bullshit.”

“Ugh I… If your not going to even try to hear me out then…”

“Then what Tom? You gonna kick me out. I mean this is your flat after all! Maybe you’d like to dump the mother of your unborn child homeless on the street and forget about us - how’d that sound? I’m sure your fans would blindly applaud you.”

“Listen! Please would you just listen to me.” His voice was loud and tone harsh, making you flinch a little. Not because you were ever worried he’d hurt you - but how this wave of uncomfort shuddered through your body, baby even squirming in discontent. So focused on that you just nodded, shifting back into the sofa.

Tom had noticed your reaction and seeing you seemingly scared of him like that, well it broke his heart. Even more.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to shout, I just…. I really need to try and fix this.” He leaned closer, letting out a thankful breath when you just nodded, as if to say go on.

“I’ve really really missed you… these past couple of weeks I’ve never felt so gulity in my life. Not because of what I did! Well yeh that but-but more how much it hurt you and-“

“Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but let out that little curse of pain as a new wave of pain, which seemed to originate from your lower back, shuddered through you. Tom looked up from where his eyes had been nervously wringing his palms whilst he spoke. Rubbing a hand over your belly you shook your head and motioned for him to continue.

She was just kicking really really hard. Right?

“Uhm yeh so I just wanted to properly tell you everything that happened that night so at least we are on the same page? A-And I’m not going to try and use this an excuse but I had been drinking so-“

Seemingly baby disliked the end of that sentence too, causing another rippling wave to echo through your body, feeling as though a band was pressing tightly round your stomach. With another small curse it forced you to stand up, in the hope that’d ease her. Clearly she was as done with his shit as you were.

“Need a water.” You muttered, already waddling to the kitchen, where you heard Tom follow you immediately - like an inpatient dog.

“Y/n sit down I can-“

He was silenced by you freezing and grabbing his arm tightly - a physical contact he hadn’t been expecting from you.

“Tom… get your phone.” You spoke slowly, still not having dared to have moved an inch - fingers almost white from how tightly you were squeezing his forearm.

“Wha-are you-are you okay?”

“I think my waters just broke. Get the phone. Now.”

~~~ feedback is really appreciated + would love to know what u think as still in the process of writing so can be guided / helped by asks !!! ~~~

taglist: @maraudersandco @@minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @elishi03

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom x reader #peter parkqueue #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #tomholland #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x pregnant!reader #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland fluff

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travelbystarlight · 2 years ago

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In another universe, I'll still find my way to you...

I've wanted to do something like this for weeks and I finally bit the bullet and taught myself how to make gifs in photoshop for these. The brain rot is just so real right now

Inspiration: X X

Little blurbs for the AUs under the cut :)

Medieval!AULady Morgana, member of the wealthy family of Kernow, slowly falls for one of her families loyal knights, Sir Edwin. While doing his best to keep the mischievous Lady out of trouble he can’t help but find himself slowly fall for her as well. Inside the castle walls they are cordial to each other, bordering on coldness but, when the two are able to slip away from the wandering eyes of her family castle, they could be found by a secluded lake, all smiles while he softly strums on a lute.

Victorian!AU Edward and Morgan had been in love with each other since they were children. However her father did not deem him a worthy marriage candidate for her deeming him a rake and a scoundrel. Determined to win her love he goes off to prove himself a worthy man. Upon returning he realizes he’s too late with Morgan already betrothed. Still it doesn’t not stop the two from having an affair in secret.

Mockumentary!AU Eddie and his band Corroded Coffin set off of a cross country tour along with the band’s manager Morgan who is also his girlfriend. Hijinks ensue as cameras capture every wild minute along with Morgan’s exasperated attempts to keep the tour running smoothly.

1960s!AU Eddie Munson struggles to survive and provide for his girlfriend Morgan working as a fill in guitarist for touring bands while trying to get his own band up and running. In an attempt to find a way to provide a better life, he attempts to enlist in the army much to Morgan’s protests.

Kas!AU The group returns to Hawkins broken and battered; Eddie left in the Upside Down. As the Upside Down slowly claws it’s way into their reality, their lives change into a constant watch to keep whatever lingers there out. Vecna’s power is still felt and even now it’s no rare occurrence for people to become his Victims. Morgan fears she’s next, as the nosebleeds start. Then there’s the issue of seeing him, seeing Eddie. He shouldn’t be alive can’t be alive but he doesn’t seem like a ghost. He’s nothing like what people say about ghosts; half-visions, whisps of their former being, unable to talk through normal means. But he’s there, clear as day. He smiles at her, it’s not warm like she used to remember, it’s now cold and calculated.

And oh god, are those fangs?

Modern!AU Life wasn’t easy at first with Homecoming Princess Morgan Kernow fell in love with burnout rocker Eddie Munson. Somehow through it all, kids, running a music store, the two were able to fall into a comfortable rhythm. The only time the two could get away from the quiet chaos of the Munson household was their bedroom, Just the two of them able to decompress from the stresses of the day together.

#stranger things oc #eddie munson x oc #ch: morgan kernow #ship: something happens and i'm head over heels #I literally taught myself how to make gifs with photoshop with this bc before I was making it worse on me and using premiere pro lol #anyway i'm so in love with them pls send help #can you tell which ones are my favorite dlkfads #my gifs

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comfy-whumpee · 3 years ago

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Birdhouse: The Talks

Whumptober Day Two: Talking is Overrated. TW: dehumanisation, slavery, BBU, bad decisions in therapy.

@neuro-whump, @rosesareviolentlyread, @whumper-in-training, @mylifeisonthebookshelf

The new rescue was called Roman. Not by himself, but by whoever had taken the initiative to name their brand-new captive. He hadn’t yet told her who had give it to him, but he had assured her that he was still happy to be known by the name.

Sunita Kaur had been providing therapy to his those like him for years now, in varying capacities, and he was the newest addition to her caseload. She spent the Wednesday of her working week privately commissioned to support the residents of the Birdhouse Shelter, and with the fee its proprietor paid her, she was able to do the rest of her work completely pro bono. That was the way Avis Jacobitz worked. She paid you what she thought you were worth to her household.

Each new rescue came with new strengths and new challenges. Roman had escaped himself, which often gave them a head start, but not always. He was also in good physical condition, which made sense; the Birdhouse specialised in complex emotional needs more than physical ones. Not that any ex-pet came without their chronic pains and weak immune systems. Roman was prone to dizzy spells and took iron tablets daily.

He was sitting on the comfortable chair with his hands resting on his knees and his back straight. To be sitting on the chair in his first session was another strength. But then, not all ex-pets had been banned from furniture.

“My name is Sunita Kaur. I’m a trained practitioner of counselling for pet industry survivors.”

She didn’t miss the way Roman’s lips moved faintly to echo that term. Pet industry survivor. It was difficult to talk about those labels without reinforcing them, but she had settled on one eventually.

“That’s you, Roman. A survivor of the American organisations that attempt to brainwash and remake people.”

There was no sense of recognition in Roman’s eyes as he thought about that. He didn’t reply.

Sunita gave him a moment to think, and then offered, “How do you feel about that description?”

It’s several seconds, unmarked in their passing, before Roman ventures, “I like being called a rescue.”

“Can you tell me why?” Sunita asks, keeping all reaction clear from her expression. If she so much as twitches a nostril, an ex-pet will pick up on it.

Roman glances down shyly, smiling. “Because I was. There was a new cleaner and she called someone to help me, and now I’m here. I like thinking about her.”

Every word was delivered in the faintest whisper. Sunita was straining her ears.

“Why do you like thinking about her?”

His hands sit perfectly still on his unmoving knees. Only his expression changes. “Because she was nice. And she helped me even though she was a stranger, and I like knowing – strangers can help you.”

Sometimes she wondered at the ability of her patients to love people who had been cruel to them. Sometimes, it wasn’t even that. Sometimes, ex-pets loved people in general, through some innate hope and fortitude all their suffering had failed to tarnish.

She was going to enjoy working with Roman.

Florence never made eye contact. Their gaze drifted around her face and off again. They sat in the comfortable chair, leaning slightly against its side, long hair tumbling off one shoulder and an arm stretched out to show the curving line of their body in what had to be an uncomfortable position. They looked like an art piece. They played with their skirt. Sunita was used to this. Florence liked textures.

“I don’t mind,” they said. “Avis has lots of people to care for.”

Sunita nodded. It was something that Florence was already dealing with. Avis split her time with equity as her guiding principle, offering the right amount of support to everyone who needed it. Florence was used to their time with Avis waxing and waning depending on the needs of the others in the house.

‘To each according to their need’ was a powerful concept, unless one of your rescues was always desperate for attention.

Sunita hummed in acknowledgement. “So how do you feel about Roman getting lots of help?” They were the one who had brought it up, after all. There was something there.

Florence ran fingers up and down their silky turquoise skirt. Their gaze flittered across the window. “He’s funny. He acts different.”

“Different how?”

There were no birds in the sky, but Florence’s eyes moved as if there were. “He doesn’t have anyone he loves.”

“Of course I love them.” Kamala lifted her chin, hands folded on her lap, the picture of dignified confidence. The neat edge of her hijab was broken only by the lightning-bolt pin she had used on one side. She sat on the very edge of the chair. “The Birdhouse is like my family. We look after each other. That’s not particular to Florence. They just like spending time with me.”

Sunita nodded, showing that she was listening, but didn’t interrupt, hoping Kamala would keep going.

“It’s not wrong to give more time to someone who asks for it,” Kamala continued after a moment, smiling earnestly. “Florence is used to being the centre of attention. It makes them happy. And it makes me happy to help them.”

“We’ve touched on this before, Kamala. You derive a lot of happiness and fulfilment from what services you can offer others, how you can fill their needs. I think you know what I’d like you to think about.”

“My needs,” Kamala answered with a pretty smile. “I understand, Mrs Kaur. I took more time to myself this week, although it was hard. I reread some of the comics I got when I first came here, in my bedroom. I haven’t done that in a while.”

She spoke with perfectly believable sincerity, underlined with a hint of eager-to-please nervousness, of am I doing it right?

“That sounds positive, Kamala. How did that feel, to be spending time on yourself?”

“It’s hard, Mrs Kaur. I don’t like myself very much. But I know it’s what will help me in the long term, so I do my best. If you practice self-care, it will become second nature.”

Sunita was sure she had said those exact words to her before. “That is the goal.”

Tenten’s twitch was worse today, jerking his shoulder and running down his arm as he spoke. He didn’t make eye contact, but not in the way that Florence didn’t, always busy looking elsewhere. Tenten kept his eyes averted. His limbs were drawn close together, arms on his knees, as if he was unsure how to sit on something soft.

“I don’t, I don’t want-t t-to, to-to make anyone ss-sad. But I did, m-made her, upset-t, I t-t-t, t-t, I c-c-could see. She was.”

“That’s alright, Tenten. Take your time.” She kept her voice soft and soothing. “I’m not going to think any different of you. I will still be your therapist.”

Tenten made an uncertain noise, his shoulder jumping like a livewire. His foot tapped. “You, but you’re her c-c-counsellor too. I don’t want-t, I might, if I say somet-thing she didn’t want you t-to, to know.”

“I understand your concern. Remember, this is confidential. I will never use what you tell me in my sessions with the others.” She smiled kindly as his eyes flickered to her and away shyly. “But do remember that I talk to Avis before I start sessions, to make sure I’m aware of anything significant. I may already know about the conflict you’re thinking of.”

Tenten’s shoulders hunched, “C-c-con, conflict, huh?” he echoed. “What do you th-think it is?”

She made sure to smile gently. “I’d like you to tell me what happened in your own words.”

He swallowed, his throat bobbing under the maroon neckerchief he always wore. He took a breath. “Okay.”

“We’ve been here for forty minutes, Avis, and you still haven’t said a word about yourself.”

Avis leaned back in the armchair, frowning at the wall. “I know,” she admitted. “I know we always end up here. I start talking and it’s about how Roman’s settling in, or Florence’s new night terror, or Kamala and Tenten getting into another argument, or… Boo. Everything about Boo and their – situation. It’s just, I spend my whole life looking after those guys. Even when they’re doing something else, like Therapy Day or tutoring, there’s five of them now, so there’s always something.”

Dr Cerasale showed nothing but patient understanding. It was true, that this often formed the bulk of the sessions he held with Avis. It had been improving for a while, before she’d accepted the new rescue.

“And I know, I find fulfilment in my work, that’s not a bad thing, and some people live with different professional-personal balances. And for my kind of job, there’s not much distance between them. But…”

She stopped, still frowning at the wall.

“What is the downside of that?” he prompted her.

Dark eyes flashed his way. “Do you mean me not having any time to myself, or me seeing my son in every single one of them?”

All patients had their challenges. Avis had a unique living situation and a very unusual career path, but the underlying causes of her mindset were very normal.

“Let’s talk about guilt,” he said, and she broke eye contact.

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dwellordream · 3 years ago

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“...If any precedent might have preoccupied Livia, especially in her early career, when she was attempting to mould an image fitting for the times, it would have been a negative one, provided by the most notorious woman of the late republic and, most important, a woman who clashed headlong with Octavian in the sensitive early stages of his career. Fulvia was the wife of Mark Antony, and his devoted supporter, no less loyal than Livia in support of her husband, although their styles were dramatically different.

Fulvia’s struggle on behalf of Antony, Octavian’s archenemy, has secured her an unenviable place in history as a power-crazed termagant. While her husband was occupied in the East in 41, Fulvia made an appearance, along with Antony’s children, before his old soldiers in Italy, urging them to remain true to their commander. When Antony’s brother Lucius gathered his troops at Praeneste to launch an attack on Rome, Fulvia joined him there, and the legend became firmly established that she put on a sword, issued the watchword, gave a rousing speech to the soldiers, and held councils of war with senators and knights. This was the ultimate sin in a woman, interfering in the loyalty of the troops.

In the end Octavian prevailed and forced the surrender of Lucius and his armies at Perusia. The fall of the city led to a massive exodus of political refugees. Among them were two women, Livia and Fulvia. Livia joined her husband, Tiberius Claudius Nero, who escaped first to Praeneste and then to Naples. Fulvia fled with her children to join Antony and his mother in Athens. Like Octavia later, she found that her dedicated service was not enough to earn her husband’s gratitude. In fact, Antony blamed her for the setbacks in Italy.

A broken woman, she fell ill at Sicyon on the Gulf of Corinth, where she died in mid-40 bc. Antony in the meantime had left Italy without even troubling himself to visit her sickbed. Fulvia’s story contains many of the ingredients familiar in the profiles of ambitious women: avarice, cruelty, promiscuity, suborning of troops, and the ultimate ingratitude of the men for whom they made such sacrifices. She was at Perusia at the same time as Livia, and as wives of two of the triumvirs, they would almost certainly have met. In any case, Fulvia was at the height of her activities in the years immediately preceding Livia’s first meeting with Octavian, and at the very least would have been known to her by reputation. Livia would have seen in Fulvia an object lesson for what was to be avoided at all costs by any woman who hoped to survive and prosper amidst the complex machinations of Roman political life.

In one respect Livia’s career did resemble Fulvia’s, in that it was shaped essentially by the needs of her husband, to fill a role that in a sense he created for her. To understand that role in Livia’s case, we need to understand one very powerful principle that motivated Augustus throughout his career. The importance that he placed in the calling that he inherited in 44 bc cannot be overstressed. The notion that he and the house he created were destined by fate to carry out Rome’s foreordained mission lay at the heart of his principate. Strictly speaking, the expression domus Augusta (house of Augustus) cannot be attested before Augustus’ death and the accession of Tiberius, but there can be little doubt that the concept of his domus occupying a special and indeed unique place within the state evolves much earlier.

Suetonius speaks of Augustus’ consciousness of the domus suae maiestas (the dignity of his house) in a context that suggests a fairly early stage of his reign, and Macrobius relates the anecdote of his claiming to have had two troublesome daughters, Julia and Rome. When Augustus received the title of Pater Patriae in 2 bc, Valerius Messala spoke on behalf of the Senate, declaring the hope that the occasion would bring good fortune and favour on ‘‘you and your house, Augustus Caesar’’ (quod bonum, inquit, faustum sit tibi domuique tuae, Caesar Auguste).

The special place in the Augustan scheme enjoyed by the male members of this domus placed them in extremely sensitive positions. The position of the women in his house was even more challenging. In fashioning the image of the domus Augusta, the first princeps was anxious to project an image of modesty and simplicity, to stress that in spite of his extraordinary constitutional position, he and his family lived as ordinary Romans. Accordingly, his demeanour was deliberately self-effacing.

His dinner parties were hospitable but not lavish. The private quarters of his home, though not as modest as he liked to pretend, were provided with very simple furniture. His couches and tables were still on public display in the time of Suetonius, who commented that they were not fine enough even for an ordinary Roman, let alone an emperor. Augustus wore simple clothes in the home, which were supposedly made by Livia or other women of his household. He slept on a simply furnished bed. His own plain and unaffected lifestyle determined also how the imperial women should behave.

His views on this subject were deeply conservative. He felt that it was the duty of the husband to ensure that his wife always conducted herself appropriately. He ended the custom of men and women sitting together at the games, requiring females (with the exception of the Vestals) to view from the upper seats only. His legates were expected to visit their wives only during the winter season. In his own domestic circle he insisted that the women should exhibit a traditional domesticity.

He had been devoted to his mother and his sister, Octavia, and when they died he allowed them special honours. But at least in the case of Octavia, he kept the honours limited and even blocked some of the distinctions voted her by the Senate. Nor did he limit himself to matters of ‘‘lifestyle.’’ He forbade the women of his family from saying anything that could not be said openly and recorded in the daybook of the imperial household. In the eyes of the world, Livia succeeded in carrying out her role of model wife to perfection. To some degree she owed her success to circumstances. It is instructive to compare her situation with that of other women of the imperial house.

Julia (born 39 bc) summed up her own attitude perfectly when taken to task for her extravagant behaviour and told to conform more closely to Augustus’ simple tastes. She responded that he could forget that he was Augustus, but she could not forget that she was Augustus’ daughter. Julia’s daughter, the elder Agrippina (born 19 bc?), like her mother before her, saw for herself a key element in her grandfather’s dynastic scheme. She was married to the popular Germanicus and had no doubt that in the fullness of time she would provide a princeps of Augustan blood.

Not surprisingly, she became convinced that she had a fundamental role to play in Rome’s future, and she bitterly resented Tiberius’ elevation. Her daughter Agrippina the Younger (born ad 15?) was, as a child, indoctrinated by her mother to see herself as the destined transmitter of Augustus’ blood, and her whole adult life was devoted to fulfilling her mother’s frustrated mission. From birth these women would have known of no life other than one of dynastic entitlement. By contrast, Livia’s background, although far from humble, was not exceptional for a woman of her class, and she did not enter her novel situation with inherited baggage.

As a Claudian she may no doubt have been brought up to display a certain hauteur, but she would not have anticipated a special role in the state. As a member of a distinguished republican family, she would have hoped at most for a ‘‘good’’ marriage to a man who could aspire to property and prestige, perhaps at best able to exercise a marginal influence on events through a husband in a high but temporary magistracy. Powerful women who served their apprenticeships during the republic reached their eminence by their own inclinations, energies, and ambitions, not because they felt they had fallen heir to it.

However lofty Livia’s station after 27 bc, her earlier life would have enabled her to maintain a proper perspective. She did not find herself in the position of an imperial wife who through her marriage finds herself overnight catapulted into an ambience of power and privilege. Whatever ambitions she may have entertained in her first husband, she was sadly disappointed. When she married for the second time, Octavian, for all his prominence, did not then occupy the undisputed place at the centre of the Roman world that was to come to him later. Livia thus had a decade or so of married life before she found herself married to a princeps, in a process that offered time for her to become acclimatised and to establish a style and timing appropriate to her situation.

It must have helped that in their personal relations she and her husband seem to have been a devoted couple, whose marriage remained firm for more than half a century. For all his general cynicism, Suetonius concedes that after Augustus married Livia, he loved and esteemed her unice et perservanter (right to the end, with no rival). In his correspondence Augustus addressed his wife affectionately as mea Livia.

The one shadow on their happiness would have been that they had no children together. Livia did conceive, but the baby was stillborn. Augustus knew that he could produce children, as did she, and Pliny cites them as an example of a couple who are sterile together but had children from other unions. By the normal standards obtaining in Rome at the time they would have divorced—such a procedure would have involved no disgrace—and it is a testimony to the depth of their feelings that they stayed together. In a sense, then, Livia was lucky.

That said, she did suffer one disadvantage, in that when the principate was established, she found herself, as did all Romans, in an unparalleled situation, with no precedent to guide her. She was the first ‘‘first lady’’—she had to establish the model to emulate, and later imperial wives would to no small degree be judged implicitly by comparison to her. Her success in masking her keen political instincts and subordinating them to an image of self-restraint and discretion was to a considerable degree her own achievement.

In a famous passage of Suetonius, we are told that Caligula’s favourite expression for his great-grandmother was Ulixes stolatus (Ulysses in a stola). The allusion appears in a section that supposedly illustrates Caligula’s disdain for his relatives. But his allusion to Livia is surely a witty and ironical expression of admiration. Ulysses is a familiar Homeric hero, who in the Iliad and Odyssey displays the usual heroic qualities of nerve and courage, but is above all polymetis: clever, crafty, ingenious, a man who will often sort his way through a crisis not by the usual heroic bravado but by outsmarting his opponents, whether the one-eyed giant Polyphemus, or the enchantress Circe, or the suitors for Penelope.

Caligula implied that Livia had the clever, subtle kind of mind that one associates with Greeks rather than Romans, who were inclined to take a head-on approach to problems. But at the same time she manifested a particularly Roman quality. Rolfe, in the Loeb translation of Suetonius’ Life of Caligula, rendered the phrase as ‘‘Ulysses in petticoats’’ to suggest a female version of the Homeric character. But this is to rob Caligula’s sobriquet of much of its force.

The stola was essentially the female equivalent of the toga worn by Roman men. A long woollen sleeveless dress, of heavy fabric, it was normally worn over a tunic. In shape it could be likened to a modern slip, but of much heavier material, so that it could hang in deep folds. The mark of matronae married to Roman citizens, the stola is used by Cicero as a metaphor for a stable and respectable marriage. Along with the woollen bands that the matron wore in her hair to protect her from impurity, it was considered the insigne pudoris (the sign of purity) by Ovid, something, as he puts it, alien to the world of the philandering lover.

Another contemporary of Livia’s, Valerius Maximus, notes that if a matrona was called into court, her accuser could not physically touch her, in order that the stola might remain inviolata manus alienae tactu (unviolated by the touch of another’s hand). Bartman may be right in suggesting that the existence of statues of Livia in a stola would have given Caligula’s quip a special resonance, but that alone would not have inspired his bon mot. To Caligula’s eyes, Livia was possessed of a sharp and clever mind.

But she did not allow this quality to obtrude because she recognised that many Romans would not find it appealing; she cloaked it with all the sober dignity and propriety, the gravitas, that the Romans admired in themselves and saw represented in the stola. Livia’s greatest skill perhaps lay in the recognition that the women of the imperial household were called to walk a fine line. She and other imperial women found themselves in a paradoxical position in that they were required to set an example of the traditional domestic woman yet were obliged by circumstances to play a public role outside the home—a reflection of the process by which the domestic and public domains of the domus Augusta were blurred.

Thus she was expected to display the grand dignity expected of a person very much in the public eye, combined with the old-fashioned modesty of a woman whose interests were confined to the domus. Paradoxically, she had less freedom of action than other upper-class women who had involved themselves in public life in support of their family and protégés. As wife of the princeps, Livia recognised that to enlist the support of her husband was in a sense to enlist the support of the state.

That she managed to gain a reputation as a generous patron and protector and, at the same time, a woman who kept within her proper bounds, is testimony to her keen sensitivity. In many ways she succeeds in moving silently though Rome’s history, and this is what she intended. Her general conduct gave reassurance to those who were distressed by the changing relationships that women like Fulvia had symbolised in the late republic. It is striking that court poets, who reflected the broad wishes of their patron, avoid reference to her. She is mentioned by the poet Horace, but only once, and even there she is not named directly but referred to allusively as unico gaudens mulier marito (a wife finding joy in her preeminent husband).

The single exception is Ovid, but most of his allusions come from his period of exile, when desperation may have got the better of discretion. The dignified behaviour of Livia’s distinguished entourage was contrasted with the wild conduct of Julia’s friends at public shows, which drove Augustus to remonstrate with his daughter (her response: when she was old, she too would have old friends). In a telling passage Seneca compares the conduct of Livia favourably with even the universally admired Octavia. After losing Marcellus, Octavia abandoned herself to her grief and became obsessed with the memory of her dead son. She would not permit anyone to mention his name in her presence and remained inconsolable, allowing herself to become totally secluded and maintaining the garb of mourning until her death.

By contrast, Livia, similarly devastated by the death of Drusus, did not offend others by grieving excessively once the body had been committed to the tomb. When the grief was at its worst, she turned to the philosopher Areus for help. Seneca re-creates Areus’ advice. Much of it, of course, may well have sprung from Seneca’s imagination, but it is still valuable in showing how Livia was seen by Romans of Seneca’s time. Areus says that Livia had been at great pains to ensure that no one would find anything in her to criticise, in major matters but also in the most insignificant trifles. He admired the fact that someone of her high station was often willing to bestow pardon on others but sought pardon for nothing in herself.

…Perhaps most important, it was essential for Livia to present herself to the world as the model of chastity. Apart from the normal demands placed on the wife of a member of the Roman nobility, she faced a particular set of circumstances that were unique to her. One of the domestic priorities undertaken by Augustus was the enactment of a programme of social legislation. Parts of this may well have been begun before his eastern trip, perhaps as early as 28 bc, but the main body of the work was initiated in 18.

A proper understanding of the measures that he carried out under this general heading eludes us. The family name of Julius was attached to the laws, and thus they are difficult to distinguish from those enacted by Julius Caesar. But clearly in general terms the legislation was intended to restore traditional Roman gravitas, to stamp out corruption, to define the social orders, and to encourage the involvement of the upper classes in state affairs. The drop in the numbers of the upper classes was causing particular concern. The nobles were showing a general reluctance to marry and, when married, an unwillingness to have children. It was hoped that the new laws would to some degree counter this trend.

The Lex Iulia de adulteriis coercendis, passed probably in 18 bc, made adultery a public crime and established a new criminal court for sexual offences. The Lex Iulia de maritandis ordinibus, passed about the same time, regulated the validity of marriages between social classes. The crucial factor here, of course, was not the regulation of morality but rather the legitimacy of children. Disabilities were imposed on the principle that it was the duty of men between twenty-five and sixty-five and women between twenty and fifty to marry. Those who refused to comply or who married and remained childless suffered penalties, the chief one being the right to inherit. The number of a man’s children gave him precedence when he stood for office.

Of particular relevance to Livia was the ius trium liberorum, under which a freeborn woman with three children was exempted from tutela (guardianship) and had a right of succession to the inheritance of her children. Livia was later granted this privilege despite having borne only two living children. This social legislation created considerable resentment—Suetonius says that the equestrians staged demonstrations at theatres and at the games. It was amended in ad 9 and supplemented by the Lex Papia Poppaea, which seems to have removed the unfair distinctions between the childless and the unmarried and allowed divorced or widowed women a longer period before they remarried.

Dio, apparently without a trace of irony, reports that this last piece of legislation was introduced by two consuls who were not only childless but unmarried, thus proving the need for the legislation. Livia’s moral conduct would thus be dictated not only by the already unreal standards that were expected of a Roman matrona but also by the political imperative of her husband’s social legislation. Because Augustus saw himself as a man on a crusade to restore what he considered to be old-fashioned morality, it was clearly essential that he have a wife whose reputation for virtue was unsullied and who could provide an exemplar in her own married life.

In this Livia would not fail him. The skilful creation of an image of purity and marital fidelity was more than a vindication of her personal standards. It was very much a public statement of support for what her husband was trying to achieve. Tacitus, in his obituary notice that begins Book V of the Annals, observes that in the matter of the sanctitas domus, Livia’s conduct was of the ‘‘old school’’ ( priscum ad morem). This is a profoundly interesting statement at more than one level. It tells us something about the way the Romans idealised their past. But it also says much about the clever way that Livia fashioned her own image.

Her inner private life is a secret that she has taken with her to the tomb. She may well have been as pure as people believed. But for a woman who occupied the centre of attention in imperial Rome for as long as she did, to keep her moral reputation intact required more than mere proper conduct. Rumours and innuendo attached themselves to the powerful and prominent almost of their own volition. An unsullied name required the positive creation of a public image. Livia was despised by Tacitus, who does not hesitate to insinuate the darkest interpretations that can be placed on her conduct.

Yet not even he hints at any kind of moral impropriety in the narrow sexual sense. Even though she abandoned her first husband, Tiberius Claudius, to begin an affair with her lover Octavian, she seems to have escaped any censure over her conduct. This is evidence not so much of moral probity as of political skill in managing an image skilfully and effectively. None of the ancient sources challenges the portrait of the moral paragon. Ovid extols her sexual purity in the most fulsome of terms. To him, Livia is the Vesta of chaste matrons, who has the morals of Juno and is an exemplar of pudicitia worthy of earlier and morally superior generations. Even after her husband is dead she keeps the marriage couch (pulvinar) pure. (She was, admittedly in her seventies.)

Valerius Maximus, writing in the Tiberian period, can state that Pudicitia attends the couch of Livia. And the Consolatio ad Liviam, probably not a contemporary work but one at least that tries to reflect contemporary attitudes, speaks of her as worthy of those women who lived in a golden age, and as someone who kept her heart uncorrupted by the evil of her times. Horace’s description is particularly interesting. His phrase unico gaudens marito is nicely ambiguous, for it states that Livia’s husband was preeminent (unicus) but implies the other connotation of the word: that she had the moral superiority of an univira, a woman who has known only one husband, which in reality did not apply to Livia.

Such remarks might, of course, be put down to cringing flattery, but it is striking that not a single source contradicts them. On this one issue, Livia did not hesitate to blow her own trumpet, and she herself asserted that she was able to influence Augustus to some degree because she was scrupulously chaste. She could do so in a way that might even suggest a light touch of humour. Thus when she came across some naked men who stood to be punished for being exposed to the imperial eyes, she asserted that to a chaste woman a naked man was no more a sex object than was a statue. Most strikingly, Dio is able to recount this story with no consciousness of irony.

Seneca called Livia a maxima femina. But did she hold any real power outside the home? According to Dio, Livia believed that she did not, and claimed that her influence over Augustus lay in her willingness to concede whatever he wished, not meddling in his business, and pretending not to be aware of any of his sexual affairs. Tacitus reflects this when he calls her an uxor facilis (accommodating wife). She clearly understood that to achieve any objective she had to avoid any overt conflict with her husband.

It would do a disservice to Livia, however, to create the impression that she was successful simply because she yielded. She was a skilful tactician who knew how to manipulate people, often by identifying their weaknesses or ambitions, and she knew how to conceal her own feelings when the occasion demanded: cum artibus mariti, simulatione filii bene composita (well suited to the craft of her husband and the insincerity of her son) is how Tacitus morosely characterises that talent. Augustus felt that he controlled her, and she doubtless was happy for him to think so.

Dio has preserved an account of a telling exchange between Augustus and a group of senators. When they asked him to introduce legislation to control what was seen as the dissolute moral behaviour of Romans, he told them that there were aspects of human behaviour that could not be regulated. He advised them to do what he did, and have more control over their wives. When the senators heard this they were surprised, to say the least, and pressed Augustus with more questions to find out how he was able to control Livia. He confined himself to some general comments about dress and conduct in public, and seems to have been oblivious to his audience’s scepticism.

What is especially revealing about this incident is that the senators were fully aware of the power of Livia’s personality, but recognised that she conducted herself in such a way that Augustus obviously felt no threat whatsoever to his authority. Augustus would have been sensitive to the need to draw a line between Livia’s traditional and proper power within the domus and her role in matters of state. This would have been very difficult. Women in the past had sought to influence their husbands in family concerns. But with the emergence of the domus Augusta, family concerns and state concerns were now inextricably bound together.

…Although Livia did not intrude in matters that were strictly within Augustus’ domain, her restraint naturally did not bar communication with her husband. Certainly, Augustus was prepared to listen to her. That their conversations were not casual matters and were taken seriously by him is demonstrated by the evidence of Suetonius that Augustus treated her just as he would an important official. When dealing with a significant item of business, he would write things out beforehand and read out to her from a notebook, because he could not be sure to get it just right if he spoke extemporaneously. Moreover, it says something about Livia that she filed all Augustus’ written communications with her.

After his death, during a dispute with her son, she angrily brought the letters from the shrine where they had been archived and read them out, complete with their criticisms of Tiberius’ arrogance. Despite Tacitus’ claim that Livia controlled her husband, Augustus was willing to state publicly that he had decided not to follow her advice, as when he declined special status to the people of Samos. Clearly, he would try to do so tactfully and diplomatically, expressing his regrets at having to refuse her request. On other issues he similarly reached his own decision but made sufficient concessions to Livia to satisfy her public dignity and perhaps Augustus’ domestic serenity.

On one occasion Livia interceded on behalf of a Gaul, requesting that he be granted citizenship. To Augustus the Roman citizenship was something almost sacred, not to be granted on a whim. He declined to honour the request. But he did make a major and telling concession. One of the great advantages of citizenship was the exemption from the tax (tributum) that tributary provincials had to pay. Augustus granted the man this exemption. When Livia apparently sought the recall of Tiberius from Rhodes after the Julia scandal, Augustus refused, but did concede him the title of legatus to conceal any lingering sense of disgrace.

He was unwilling to promote Claudius to the degree that Livia wished, but he was willing to allow him some limited responsibilities. Thus he was clearly prepared to go out of his way to accede at least partially to his wife’s requests. But on the essential issues he remained very much his own man, and on one occasion he made it clear that as an advisor she did not occupy the top spot in the hierarchy. In ad 2 Tiberius made a second request to return from exile. His mother is said to have argued intensively on his behalf but did not persuade her husband. He did, however, say that he would be willing to be guided by the advice he received from his grandson, and adopted son, Gaius.”

- Anthony A. Barrett, “Wife of the Emperor.” in Livia: First Lady of Imperial Rome

#livia drusilla #livia first lady of imperial rome #octavian #fulvia #history #roman #ancient #anthony a. barrett

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binniedeactivated · 4 years ago

Text

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧. || 🌪💦

[ m.list ]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐮

𝐖/𝐂 | 4k

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 | 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫-𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

POC = person of color

a/n; should this be a ff?

adriana didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did. her dirty thoughts never stopped ever since he walked into her kindergarten classroom that one morning. with his sleek parted blonde hair, tall physique and lush pink lips she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him day in and day out. she had a job to do of course. teach the children, take care of the children and make sure each and every one of them were safe.

but myla rose’s father looked nothing like any man she had ever seen before. and it was a pity that his ring finger was occupied. that made her attraction to him even more difficult at the school’s open house.

adriana greeted every parent who stopped inside her classroom, guiding them to their child’s work display and giving short reviews of their performance in class. she was an excellent teacher. one of the school’s favorite in fact and every child loved her. the parents were always pleased with her enthusiastic attitude and compassion for their child. and this was evident especially when myla came running to hug her legs at the door.

“Hi ms. A!”.

in awe, adriana hugs her gratefully. “hey myla!”.

she glances up and with a warm smile the man takes her hand. “good evening, I’m choi yeonjun. myla’s dad”.

adriana smiles back a little harder than normal but she tried her best to conceal it. to her demise though, yeonjun didn’t come with just his beloved daughter.

“this is my wife, leah. our eldest son daniel. and this little guy right here--“.

yeonjun pauses for a moment to squat next to the baby stroller that his wife was pushing. he lifted the top of it a little, revealing the small one year old child who was currently dressed in a brown furry onesie with a dog ear hood. he sucks cutely on his blue pacifier glancing upwards at his father in wonder and being immediately surprised by the splashes of color around the classroom. he looked just like yeonjun.

“this is our youngest son logan”.

adriana smiles and coos at the younger child, “aww he is adorable. myla why didn’t you tell me about your little brother?”. she directs to the small girl with a pink ribbon wrapped around her ponytail. she rolls her eyes.

“because he’s annoying”. she says with more attitude than she ever showed in class. adriana laughs.

“nice to meet you leah. and hey daniel”. she greeted the eldest. he looked to be at least 8 years old. not very far from myla. he waves shyly, burying his face into his father’s chest. how lucky leah was, to have a family with yeonjun. as a single woman, dealing with families was always hard. it’s just what adriana wanted especially at this stage of her life.

“well, first things first myla is a pleasure to have in my class. she is always doing her work diligently like I ask and she’s always the first one to answer questions when it’s time”.

yeonjun nods in approval rubbing his daughter’s back as they were then guided to myla’s work display. he was here for his daughter he had to remember that. especially when his eyes kept slipping below adriana’s waist as she walked. but it was something about the way she walked. she walked like she wanted to be seen. as if she were inviting yeonjun’s eyes to admire her every curve. nevertheless he snaps his eyes back up whenever she turned around.

“and right here is myla’s art work, her math work, and her reading caterpillar. as you can see she really loves watercolors. her math work is outstanding. she grasps every concept I teach. and her reading caterpillar--eh it can be longer”. she playfully laughs. she tried to make the conversation as general as possible but with leah on her phone pretending as if she had no care in the world adriana’s only focus was on yeonjun who, didn’t hesitate to give an unforgiving stare into her eyes every time she talked.

adriana was an afro-latina beauty. black spiral curls dropping just above her mid back, deep set brown eyes, and full sensuous lips that anyone wanted to kiss with just one glance. and yeonjun took advantage of admiring her every chance he got.

“and um,” she fidgeted. “for each book she reads she gets a segment added onto to her caterpillar. the first student to become a butterfly wins a prize”.

“you hear that myla? don’t you want a prize?”. yeonjun cooed holding her hand. she nods excitedly. “yes!”.

“you have to start reading more okay? see look, your caterpillar is short”. yeonjun pointed at the green bulletin board. “can you buy me more books daddy?”. she asks in the soft voice that she knew would touch his heart.

“you already have enough stuff myla”. daniel chimed in, annoyed. wanting nothing more than to go home and play his play-station already.

“hey! you have stuff too”.

“you’re always asking for the most”.

“so what! daddy will buy it for me”.

“that doesn’t mean you have to ask all the time”.

“but--”.

“guys. enough. we’re not at home we’re at an open house”. yeonjun settled. all the while leah just stood there just as annoyed as them. she could’ve helped yeonjun calm the kids down but she didn’t. she didn’t even seem interested in myla’s work nor her progress. much less wanting to be there in the first place.

“I’m sorry,”. yeonjun apologized. “my kids are spoiled”.

adriana chuckles. “it’s alright I understand”.

“so how are myla’s grades? is she getting along with the kids okay? I know she can probably be a little chatty”.

“oh myla’s grades are amazing. she’s great with the other kids, rather a leader. she’s only chatty when I allow it”.

yeonjun hums in approval. “good job baby”. he coos to her. he pays his attention back to adriana though. “she loves you. she always comes home with stories about what game you played with them or what you taught them that day”.

“oh really?”.

yeonjun nods. “yeah she does. you’re a phenomenal teacher. thank you for taking good care of her”.

“thank you yeonjun. it’s no problem I love these kids like they’re my own”. adriana spoke, sinking into the hypnotics of his lustful gaze. the one that made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. “she’s a pleasure to teach”.

“thank you for this. so um--we go to the gymnasium now right?”.

“yeah, do you need help finding it?”.

“no it’s alright, I think I saw it on my way in. thank you though”.

“no problem. I hope you guys have a nice rest of your evening!”. she smiles sweetly.

“you too”, yeonjun nods, nudging his wife to push the baby stroller before they turned to leave. and adriana instantly wondered what he saw her in her. she was beautiful. but she wondered why he loved a woman with such an attitude. perhaps they had argument beforehand that she didn’t know about. but even that wouldn’t explain how careless she looked about her family.

and she was almost too careless. yeonjun could feel his adrenaline rushing at the sheer thought of fucking someone new. it’s been a while since him and his wife had any kind of sex. she’d always blame it on the fact that she was tired and would postpone it to another night. but yeonjun had needs and once he saw adriana he became desperate once again. he didn’t want to ruin his marriage. god knows he didn’t.

but things in the choi household never went how yeonjun wanted it to go.

“give me back my controller myla!”. daniel shouts.

“no! you shouldn’t have cut the hair off my dollie! now your controller is going in the toilet!”. the smaller girl runs to the bathroom and locks the door behind her, leaving daniel angrily banging on it in agony. “stop it myla!!”.

“no I’m flushing it away!”.

all the commotion in the next room over was enough to startle logan, who was sleeping so soundly leaving yeonjun thinking that he was out for the night. but he wasn’t in this case. now he was crying and screaming to the top of his lungs and rattling his hands wanting nothing more than his father’s warmth.

daniel races to the kitchen, “daddy!! get myla she’s trying to flush my controller down the toilet!”. he screeches to his father who happened to be cooking over the stove top. “what do you mean she’s trying to flush it?”.

“get her! my controller is going to be broken!”.

overhearing the baby crying yeonjun rushes down the hall to get him, slowly lifting the infant out of his crib. still sobbing, the baby clings to his sweater and yeonjun shakes him gently hoping that his presence would be enough to calm him. but he could still hear daniel banging his fists against the bathroom door. yeonjun scrambles into the hallway and fiddles with the door knob.

“myla open up this door right now. you two are being too loud you just woke up your brother”.

“daddy?”. she asks innocently.

“yes this is daddy open up the door”.

there was faint shuffling on the other side of the door before she opened it. daniel gives a sigh of relief at the sight of his game controller sitting on the bathroom sink away from the toilet. myla glances up at her father with big eyes and the cutest face she could give. she’d do anything to avoid her father’s wrath.

“I wasn’t really going to flush it daddy”.

“give your brother back his game controller. why are you messing with him?”.

“he cut all my dollie’s hair off!”. she points, stomping her foot for good measure.

yeonjun looks back at his eldest son sternly. “daniel? why would you do that?”.

“daddy she’s always teasing me and being annoying”.

“give me the controller myla”.

she strolls to the sink and pushes the controller in her father’s hands while crossing her arms. yeonjun turns, “I’ll give you this controller but if i find out that you’re sabotaging myla’s toys again I’m selling your play station. If she’s annoying you come tell me so I can deal with her. I spend a lot of money on this stuff daniel”.

he huffs his breath with his back against the wall. “fine”.

“and myla,”. he turns, “if I find out that you’re trying to destroy your brother’s stuff again I’m selling your dolls. I spent a lot of money on that too”.

she gives a sigh that was identical to her brother’s. “fine”.

“good. you guys go play. where’s your mom?”.

“she said to tell you that she had to go someplace and that she’ll be back soon”. daniel exclaims while walking to his room. yeonjun checks his phone lock screen wondering where did she have to go at 9 o’clock at night. and the crazy part about it is that this isn’t the first time she’s done this.

“daddy?”. myla murmured fiddling with her fingers. yeonjun hadn’t notice she never went to her room.

“yes?”.

“can you buy me a new dollie? since daniel ruined my last one?”.

“yes. but stop teasing your brother so much and maybe he won’t mess with your stuff”.

“yay!!”.

“go on your ipad and pick one out. after you’re done show it to me okay?”.

“okay!! thanks daddy!”. she jeers, scurrying to her room already having the perfect doll in mind. yeonjun sighs, now looking at his messy haired baby boy who inches his tiny fingers up to press on yeonjun’s bottom lip.

“are you ready to eat logan?”. he asks in spite of the chaos that was going on in his mind. throughout the night he was calling leah consistently and she never picked up, her phone going straight to voicemail. so it was up to yeonjun, pretty much like it was every night. for him to cook dinner, for him to feed and change the baby, for him to make sure the kids are washed and ready for school the next day. and as frustrated as yeonjun was he always made sure he got everything done with or without her.

he was laying logan down in his crib for the night, the sleeping baby’s head falling tiredly into his pillow. he kisses him on his forehead and his cheeks before he heard the front door open and close.

making his way downstairs he spotted leah walking into the house, no--stumbling into the house with her work attire on. he approaches her before she could knock the kitchen chair over.

“leah? what is wrong with you? where were you?”. he whispers. she gives him a solemn glance trying to make herself look sober. it was failing miserably.

“I had to finish some stuff back up at the office yeonjun. don’t start”. she kicks her heels off at the door.

“don’t start? you’re never here. when are you ever going to be here? the kids see you once in the morning and then somehow you disappear for the rest of the day”.

“I just told you where I was. I’m going to bed now. I don’t feel like talking about this”. she brushes past him making her way to the staircase. the things yeonjun wanted to say to her-- but he bit his tongue. he didn’t want to pour his heart out just for her to leave him single and alone. had that been him coming in late and drunk she would’ve raised hell. accusing him of cheating and trying to kick him out the house. with three kids, the last thing yeonjun wanted was to be alone. it stressed him out.

and adriana saw it all over his face.

“hey, um- myla left her lunchbox in the car I just wanted to drop it off”. he approaches the vacant classroom-- the kids playing outside for the hour with the P.E teacher. adriana softly smiles at the man whom she wasn’t expecting to see so early in the day.

“hey yeonjun. no problem you can just sit it right there on her desk”. she guides. she was at the back of the classroom stapling work to the bulletin board.

“are you okay? you look a little stressed”. she adds.

“yeah I’m fine you know--just kids. they’re a handful sometimes. I’m sure you understand”.

“of course! I know how they can be at school. i don’t have any of my own though so I have no idea how they can be at home”.

hm, so she didn’t have any kids. yeonjun was annoyed with himself for even taking note of that. even worse, wondering if she was single.

“imagine a 24 hour school day. that’s exactly what it’s like”.

adriana chuckled. “god that’s brutal”.

“it is. you’ll find out for yourself soon enough. whenever you and your significant other decide to have children at least. it’s a world you haven’t known”.

she hops off of the stool to grab another sheet of paper to staple. she chuckles a little, “i hope this doesn’t sound weird but i actually look forward to that. whenever I actually get a significant other”.

yeonjun nods his head in disbelief. he wondered how a woman so beautiful with such an enthusiastic, compassionate attitude could be single at all. maybe she had a secret past yeonjun knew nothing about. perhaps she’s a psychopath. maybe even a gold digger.

but with the way she carried herself, in confidence but with humility, it attracted yeonjun he wouldn’t care if she was both.

“you’re single?”. yeonjun blurted out, wanting to smack himself for thinking out loud. she grins.

“why do you sound surprised?”.

while she stretches her arms up yeonjun stares at the small dip in her back and swallows. “well because you’re gorgeous”.

she steps off the stool again stifling a blush. she toys with the stapler in her hands.

“thank you and if i’m not mistaken it kind of sounds like you’re flirting with me”. she accuses, the cute grin of hers twisting into an innocent smile.

yeonjun breathes. it’s been years since he flirted with anyone other than his wife. but with the stress he was feeling nowadays he was willing to take any type of chance he could. he approaches her,

“it’s because I am”. he reassured, looking down at her hoping she felt the same way. only if he knew how much she thought about this moment, he’d take her right then and there. she pushes her face closer to his teasingly.

“aren’t you a married man? choi yeonjun?”. she licks her lips at the up close sight of his.

“please don’t mention my marriage while you’re licking your lips at me like that”. he monotones.

“or what? hm?“.

he grins, bending lower to hover his lips over her ear. “don’t test me adriana“.

his words sent chills down her spine. her heart races and before she could say her next word he was already glaring into her eyes soon after. he places his fingers at the bottom of her chin forging her attention on him.

“kiss me”. he demanded.

she clutches his wrist, half leaning in and half hesitant. she was uncertain. he had a wife. a family. children. but he was sexy and she could already feel her panties clinging to her now sticky folds. his lips were halfway there but he had other plans.

he sticks two fingers between his pretty pink lips while maintaining his gaze. adriana could feel her legs turning into jelly at the streams of saliva that slipped in between them and running down his hand. when they were finally drenched with the contents of his tongue he pulls them out and instead sticks his messy hand directly into her panties.

her lips parted and she tensed immediately, not gasping the air but gasping in his mouth---because it took almost nothing for yeonjun to pull her into a wet heated kiss. her lips felt just as yeonjun though they would. soft and full. she whimpered in delight as her tongue lolled into his hot mouth. his fingers slid through her slick liquid so easily, she was practically gushing for him and all he was doing was tracing his fingers around the circumference of her clit, not wanting to give her too much too soon. but the lighter his fingers were the more she twitched up into his hand. she wanted so much more. she needed so much more. her mind went blank.

“y-yyeonjun”., she mewls before he roughly sticks his tongue down her throat. she waited until she got another speck of air. “you’re m-married”. she partially wanted to warn, mainly because she didn’t want him to do anything that he was going to regret. he only let his fingers do the talking, allowing them to travel into her channel, pumping them into her gradually. she does that little innocent gasp again. the one that yeonjun likes, the one that made her seem like she’s never been touched before. the euphoric waves his fingers gave her was like venom, swimming through her nerves and making her legs tremble.

his hand searches for the back of her thigh and he lifts her leg around his waist, widening her legs.

“you’re thinking about my marriage and I’m thinking about pounding you into this fucking table”.

he watches her face contort in pleasure and he smirks. he couldn’t deny the hard on she gave him by her measly moans alone. she sounded so helpless and needy for more of him. she was dripping down his fingers and it took every instinctual part of him to not unbuckle his jeans. she pressed her body into his like a bruise, gasping into the crook of his neck as his fingers delve deeper into her. “ohh m-my god please ddon’t stop”.

pulses of arousal amended around yeonjun fingers and he sloppily kisses her hungrily. she steadily grinds her hips into his rhythmic thrusts in need.

“just like that adriana, fuck my fingers”. he groans into her mouth, she wondered if it was possible to get wetter at the sound of his voice. if not, she was definitely pulsating harder than before after he said that. with a shaky hand she reaches down to unzip his pants. “pplease fuck me I need it”. she whines, not being able to withstand anymore of the finger fucking. she wanted to be stretched. “pplease make it quick I have to go get the kids in 7 minutes”.

yeonjun lets her undo his pants, he enjoyed her desperation for him. it was hot and it was something he wasn’t used to. leah was never like this. but adriana was a woman who knew what she wanted and who she wanted it from. so it wasn’t as embarrassing for her to slide down on his dick the way she did. she was turned, her back facing his front where yeonjun could see her ass swallow his dick whole. he wasn’t going to fuck her initially since this was their first sexual interaction. but he was hard and she was needy so he didn’t care anymore.

the setting quickly fades from his mind while he watches her bounce against him wildly. his breathing becomes weighty and he grips her waist in absolute heaven, her slick sheathing his dick faithfully. he hid his bottom lip behind his teeth to produce a curse word but couldn’t quite get it out entirely; everything felt so fucking amazing and unbelievably so. broken curse words fluttered from his throat.

“fu--fuckk”. he utters with a low grunt. with her own electricity shooting through her veins and torso obscene moans fled from her lips and yeonjun clasped his hand over her mouth before she could get any louder. he had no intentions on getting caught but on the other hand it was hot hearing her unable to control herself.

her hips rolled down as she took up a measured pace riding him, her thighs burning but her movements were pleasing the both of them and the way yeonjun smacked her ass in praise gave her every reason to keep going. he soon met her thrusts by gripping her ass and grinding against it, chasing the orgasm that wouldn’t come if she kept going at the same pace. “ohh my god”. she hissed. he was gripping her ass rough enough to leave a significant bruise. not that adriana cared anyway, it would be an honor to be bruised up by yeonjun.

“god I’m going to fucking cum all over you”. she whines, reaching down to play with her clit along the way. yeonjun fucked into her a bit harder, exhaling all the choked up groans he withheld until her juices was spilling down his dick with ease. she trembles, wiggling her ass on him a bit longer before rushing to pull her panties up and look presentable for the rest of the school day. she was shocked to see that yeonjun was still hard as a rock, yet he was zipping up his jeans.

she clutches her clipboard, totally not expecting yeonjun to grab her from behind and kiss her on the cheek the way he did. she felt his bulge pressed against her backside.

“next time ride my dick until I cum”.

#yeonjun #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun smut #dilf!yeonjun #txt smut

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

Text

innocence - 32

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: drunkness, nightmares.

NEXT CHAPTER

- Sharon?

There she stood, in all her elegant and precise posture dignified of someone who had been trained to be a spy. Y/N had spoken to Sharon before yet it had been brief so all she knew about her was what she had learned from the media and what Bucky had told her. Yet, Bucky wasn’t one to share much about his life as a Winter Soldier or an Avenger. Despite all this mystery surrounding the woman standing in the kitchen, she trusted her. She was Bucky’s friend and Steve’s girlfriend, a decorated scholar and agent. If she wanted to hurt her the chance was very, very low. Besides, she doubted Bucky would’ve just gone around giving people his address. He doesn’t even tell anyone but the barista his coffee order, not that it is too hard to guess.

- Bucky asked me to look after you while he’s gone. - she said before Y/N could even question her. - He said you’d feel more comfortable with a woman watching over you.

- He really left, uh? - Y/N knew he had left, after all his dog tags were hanging from her closed fist, but her more optimistic self, the more happy look which wanted to believe he was gonna be told this was mistake and he could return to the normal life he had paid by with blood, sweat and tears.

- Do you wanna go for breakfast? There’s a nice spot just a few blocks away from here. - she tried to distract her, kind smile forming. - I always thought you and me should get to know each other. You know, Steve and Bucky are like brothers so we’ll see each other a lot.

- Yeah, I hum ... I just need to get dressed. - Y/N wanted to be her happy, cheery self and she knew Sharon was only trying to make her feel better but all she could think about was Bucky and if he was safe.

She knew she was no super soldier, no super spy, not a witch or an agent but she just wanted to help him. She was already helpless in her own life, merely following along as others guided her, too afraid to step too much out of line in fear of losing what she had worked for. After all, many people wanted what she had, many people wanted a contract with a household agency thus she had to be compliant. She had to step on the breaks before she even turned the key. However, if there was something she had agency on it was her relationships and she wanted to help him. God, she wished to never see that look, the look he gave her that morning after that call. It was pure sorrow mixed with anger and she wondered how long he’d felt that way. She wondered if anyone had tried to help him rather than weaponise him. It was not her choice to decide what Bucky wanted to do with his life, it was not her right to demand him explain her demons to her but it was her choice and her pleasure to be by his side and right now she wanted to be by his side. Even if her mother had raised her not to rely on a man. It wasn’t relying on him, it wasn’t being only completed when a man was around, it wasn’t her feeling incomplete whenever he was around. No. It was none of that. It was merely wanting to hold the hand of someone who had for the longest time not had anyone to hold his hand. It was loving someone so much, she’d be okay with holding his burden with him even if he didn’t want to. It was merely loving someone, darkness and light, and she loved him.

Her hands gripped the sink of the bathroom, eyes gazing onto the mirror in front of her and as such her own face. She watched every line, every corner, contour and shadow of her face, the dog tags softly dangling around from her neck, the only part of him she had near her. Y/N splashed cold water against her face, trying to let her own optimism flow into what was now a negative outcome. She stepped outside of the bedroom, a soft smile drawn on her features.

- Should we go? - Sharon suggested, grabbing her coat which was laying over the couch. - It will make you feel better, Y/N.

- Yeah, I’m just ...

- He’s one of the best operatives in the field. - Sharon interrupted her. - He will be fine, I promise you.

- You can’t promise me that. - she said as she took her own jacket from the hooks on the wall.

- I’ve seen him fight before, Y/N. I’ve been where you are, it’s shit but ... you gotta trust someone who’s strong enough to carelessly break a brick, will be fine.

Sharon meant well, she knew she did and she was glad she was there but Y/N felt nothing but completely numb to what was happening around her. It seems as he had left with her heart and now she was longing his and hers didn’t get broken in the middle of HYDRA’s crossfire. She didn’t know much about HYDRA or even the Winter Soldier, her parents had shielded her and her siblings from the bad of the world and while she had seen Washington in the TV and remembered when Captain America had been regarded as a traitor, she had never been explained much about HYDRA and all that was out in the internet was glossed over with a paint coat of big, bad monster. Funny how big, bad monsters don’t look like monsters at all. She’d not even been in the country when the first modern Winter Soldier attacks had occurred and she was younger, much more naive. What she could remember was circled with rumours of politicians then blaming every single event on the soldier, turning him into a folklore-like creature but he was not folklore, he really existed. Conscious or not conscious, he existed. She didn’t know how Bucky felt about it, he’d never tell her but what she knew was that he drew a line between who he had been and who he was now, and he hated to cross that line.

The harsh sound of the coffee steamer from the coffee machine took her from her own head. The coffee shop itself was mostly empty, highly due to it being later in the morning and all she wanted to do was return to her bedroom and stay there until she had to go for her photoshoot. However, the waitress was already taking their orders which meant she had to at least stay here until the two of them had eaten whatever Sharon had prepared.

- How do you do it? - Y/N blurted out, clearly losing any control over her mind to mouth filter. - The missions ... I mean, Steve must be going on them all the time.

- Well, whenever I don’t go ... it’s hell. - she smiled tightly. - One thing is going on a mission yourself, the other one is someone who you love going. And for what? Crocked politicians?

- I get a feeling you’re not a big fan of the government.

- You’d be right. So, what’s the schedule for today? Bucky didn’t really explain what your job entails.

- There’s a photoshoot today at 3, then it’s free days until Monday where I have to go on set to film the last scenes.

- Photoshoot? Sounds fun.

- The Virgin Bride for Vogue.

- Oh ... - she agent scrunched up her face. - Not so fun.

- They’re doing an issue on the types of brides. You know ... because type casting not only occurs in Hollywood, it occurs in life too. You got your bridezellas, your over 30 brides, your rebel brides and the virgin bride. Being the virgin bride does fit with the image they want for me.

- I never really understood type casting, if I’m being honest. You know, the rat, brit, brat pack. Never really made sense.

- It’s a marketing strategy. It is easier to market someone as a type rather than a complex person.

She liked photoshoots, she mostly got to dress up and get photographed almost like a big makeover like in those 90s movies she still curled up against her comforter to see. This particular one did make her upset, to be in a white wedding dress, surrounded by soft white fabric was particularly cruel. She knew her wedding was not going to be what she dreamed of a kid and unless she wanted to get her agency or the government in the business, the two of them would’ve had to get married in the civil hall. However, it did not matter to her where she got married, it mattered that the person she wasn’t engaged to was not here. It was almost like being dressed as a left at the altar bride ... like a widow.

She unpinned the veil from her hair, taking off all the heavy jewellery that had been used to adorn her hair and put it on top of the desk where all the makeup was still open. The dress was pretty but it was big, it was too big, it almost swallowed her, it made her feel small but it reminded of him. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, how he was feeling, if he was safe.

- That was boring. - Sharon said as she stepped inside the dressing room, holding two coffee cups. - I know that look. What’s wrong?

- I hate this dress. - Y/N sat down in the chair. - It’s too big.

- You look like a wedding cake.

- Right. - Y/N moved the fabric up playfully. - I don’t think I can even move correctly.

- You should be thinking about your own soon. - Y/N gave Sharon a confused look. - Steve told me. Don’t tell Bucky, he’ll get upset and then Steve will be upset, big mess.

- Well, it’s good to be able to speak to someone about it. - she smiled. Only Bucky and her parents knew, so she did not have many people to tell she was engaged to or to even speak about it.

- So, how do you envision your wedding dress?

- Oh, I don’t ... I don’t really think about it. It’s most likely gonna be in city hall so it’s not worth it.

- What? That’s bullshit. Everyone wears a dress.

- I can’t really go anywhere ... the paps would go crazy and that’s the last thing I need.

- Still, everyone wears a dress even if they go to city hall.

Y/N merely shrugged. Her head was not in the right space and for the first time she was looking forward to go to set. It didn’t matter if being on set was dehumanising sometimes, it mattered that her head would’ve been somewhere else. She knew that as a perfectionist, her mind would be on finishing those scenes and not on Bucky. As she got home, she couldn’t help but get lost inside her mind again as Sharon put some old sitcom on the TV. She was surrounded by him, by memories of him, things that reminded her of him. Looking to her left there were framed photos of him, his jacket was still hanging from the door, the broken shards of porcelain were still on the sink. There were pieces of him everywhere and half of her felt ridiculous it was affecting her so much as it was but she loved him. She loved him.

- Right, get your jacket. - Sharon got up from the couch.

- Why? Where are we going?

- You will see.

Y/N followed Sharon through the half lit Brooklyn night down to the back of several shops. The lights flickered, illuminating the bins filled with black plastic bags which laid in the back fronts of several shops. She watched as Sharon made her way towards a particular store back, taking a key from under a seemingly unseeingly rock which opened the heavy pad lock keeping the door shut. Sharon motioned her head towards the door and Y/N followed her into the dark shop. The agent closed the door behind them before she turned the lights. The bright white lights illuminated the shop floors and she noticed she was surrounded by hundreds of glass see through closets with various white dresses. Was she in a bridal shop?

- You need to take your mind out of him. - Sharon sat against one of the pale pastel pink couches laid around the store.

- Is this legal?

- You’re engaged to Bucky Barnes, how come you care about legality so much?

- I don’t want to get arrested, Sharon.

- It’s one of my friends bridal store. You said you couldn’t do it without paps walking around and photographing you, so ... here you go.

- I ... I don’t ... What if he doesn’t come back? - Y/N’s lip trembled as she crossed her arms and looked to the side.

- Y/N, he will come back. It is one man against a soldier with the strength of five. Trust me, if not for anything else, he’ll come back to you. Now, dress, what dress do you want?

- I don’t know.

- Come on. Pick one and try it on. We are not going home until you try a dress on.

- Fine.

Y/N stared at the dresses, grabbing the first one she could find in her own size and dragging it onto the dressing room. It definitely was not her type of dress, at least not the type of dress she had envisioned getting married in. It was pure white, sleeveless with a cut which went down to her sternum, skin tight, hugging her body in a flattering way but it just wasn’t her dress. It wasn’t the dress she wanted to get married in, but right now it wasn’t the time to think about what dress to wear when Bucky was out. She shouldn’t be playing dress up.

She waddled back to where Sharon was sat before she stopped in front of her, hands on her hips. Somehow, she had found some prosecco and plastic flutes and had her feet on top of the pale pink couch.

- Are you happy now? - Y/N sighed, mostly out off nuissance.

- Don’t give me that tone. - Sharon sipped from her own flute, handing Y/N the other one. - Come on, what do you think?

- It’s ... uhm ... fine. - her hands gestured around the fabric.

- What? That’s the first one you try. Why aren’t you crying? It isn’t the one if you’re not crying. That’s what they do in the movies.

- I can cry.

- No, spin. - Sharon waved her finger around and Y/N spun around slowly. - It ain’t it.

- But Bucky ...

- From now on every time you say the words James, Bucky, Buchanan, or Barnes, you’re drinking.

- But I don’t know if Bucky ...

- Drink. - Sharon interrupted her. Y/N scrunched her face not really believing her but she looked dead serious. She took a sip of her prosecco, placing the flute on the table near her. - Come on, what does your wedding dress look like.

- I don’t know ... I don’t want something skin tight, I want some floofy fabric.

- Yeah, go on.

- And I don’t want it to be too long, I want my shoes to show ... like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face.

- Let’s find it.

Both she and Sharon went through tons and tons of dresses, through so much lace she was sure to dream about it for the next week until they found something that resembled what she wanted. Y/N ended up rather dizzy on the prosecco, not used to drinking too much, running around barefoot with the dress that was her dress in a rather subdued white which showed her legs from the ankle down, a voluminous little shirt which cinched at her waist. A rather short veil fell from her head, pinned to the crown of her head with a fake baby pink rose prong clip. The two ended up laying on the pink couch, heads leaning against the rather comfortable pillows as they nursed the rest of the bottle of prosecco.

- Okay but I have a question ... - Y/N said, bringing her flute down. - Is it weird dating the same guy who kissed your great aunt?

- Listen, Steve is a kissing whore. - she tried to say it with a straight face but ended up breaking into laughter. - It’s true. He’ll kiss anyone, unstoppable. The blonde girl from the army, my great aunt, Natasha. If it hadn’t been for me, Steve would be Captain Kisscam instead of Captain America.

- Captain Kisscam. What superpowers would he have?

- Making people kiss each other? No that sounds terrible. I don’t know ... to be honest what even is Steve’s superpower?

- Ultimate ... - Y/N broke down laughing before she could continue. She put her hand in front of her chest, taking a deep breathe as she tried not to laugh at the joke in her head. - Ultimate frisbee.

- You know? Sex on top of the shield? Terrible, so uncomfortable.

- Sharon!

- What? I was curious, it is a weirdly unbreakable shield, isn’t it? Besides, that’s not even the craziest thing we’ve done.

- What’s the craziest thing you’ve done?

- We did it at the Smithsonian.

- SHARON! There’s children there. It’s ... a hall of science, and ... memorabilia ... and ... I don’t know, I’ve never been to the Smithsonian.

- Oh, c’mon. What’s the craziest place where you and Bucky have done it?

- You said Bucky, drink. - Y/N pointed her flute at Sharon.

- So did you. Drink. - the two girls drank what was left over in the glasses, throwing them to the side. - Come on. Tell me.

- I don’t know ... What are we counting as doing it?

- 3rd base.

- I do not understand bases.

- Handjobs don’t count.

- Oh ... then ... the parking lot of the set in his car.

- And the car didn’t break?

- Come on, it’s not that old of a car.

- It’s ancient, Y/N. - Sharon chuckled, passively looking at her watch to check on the time. - We should get going before the shop opens.

She went back into the dressing room to take off her wedding dress. It wasn’t until then she realised she was still wearing his dog tags, the cold metal against her warm skin, a side effect of the alcohol coursing through her veins. She was reminded of him again on that moment, wondered how he was doing, how he was feeling. She hoped and begged he was okay in her mind, and the memory of him haunted her mind even as she laid down in bed to go to sleep. There was a direct line from wedding gowns and dog tags to her fiance and wherever he was. Her blood distracted by the unhinging of the alcohol coursing along it, was filled with hate. Not for him but for his situation, for how helpless she was to helping him.

She turned around in her bed, forcefully shutting her eyes as a way to ensure she went to sleep instead of dwelling on those thoughts. However, she simply didn’t have a choice to leave. As her consciousness dissolved into unconscious she woke up in the same bedroom but the environment was blurry, very highly saturated yet the colours were candy bright. However, the environment wasn’t inviting at all and soon broken through the candy bright atmosphere she could hear screaming. She tried to untangle herself from her sheets, running through the bedroom yet her movements were slow and her running was more like a slow motion run. She pushed open the door, coming face to face with the same candy coloured blurred bright world but in front of her was him but not him as she knew him. Not at least as she had known him. His hair was much longer, slightly past his jaw which was covered by a mask, a muffle. His clothing was restricting, the top almost resembling a straightjacket, as if he was dangerous. He was so close but so far away, on his knees with someone whose face was blurrier than the atmosphere itself.

- Don’t worry. - the blurred person’s voice was as distorted as the vision, mechanical even as he rose a gun up to the head of a Bucky Barnes she had never met. - We will help you.

- NO! - she lunged forward as the gunshot echoed through her ears and like a rubber band she was pushed back to reality. She rose her torso from her bed in pure agony, eyes wide open and red, hand holding the sheet against her chest which rose up and down in fast paces.

Looking around, nothing was candy coloured and everything was clear. The room was dark in muddled shades barely lit by the moon light peaking from the small rips in the curtains Bucky had first gotten when he first moved in. Everything was as it was, his sleeping shorts were still hanging from the chair next to the dresser, the dead flowers were still in the vase he had once put them when they were fresh. Everything was as it was, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was lurking. The feeling that both of them had just crossed the bridge past the point of no return.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @oh-nohoney @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir @niki-is-a-thing @cynic-spirit

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years ago

Text

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 9

<< series masterlist >>

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 11,5K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of a broken family, abusive parents, conflict and death.

Yeonjun followed his mom inside of the house he used to call home before he left for college. The familiar scent of amber and vanilla welcomed him as he stepped inside.

The heels of his shoes made a loud ticking noise on the luxurious black marble tiled floor with each step he took. The place hadn’t changed much. The only thing different being the flower arrangements and the emptiness of the massive Villa.

It used to be way more lively in here. There were always all sorts of visitors in the house, if it was staff, family members, or friends of his dad’s; there was never a quiet moment during the day, which made the silence even more confronting and saddening.

He sighed putting his bag down, stretching his aching body as a result of the long drive.

“Your room is exactly how you left it.” His mom says timidly. “I guess somehow I wished you’d return home someday so I didn’t have the heart to change anything about it.”

Yeonjun looks at his mother a little puzzled. All of the emotional confessions are taking a toll on him and he isn’t quite sure what he should be saying to her.

Just as the silence was starting to get awkward, they get interrupted.

“Yeonjun? Is that you?” a voice sounds from across the hall.

Yeonjun’s ears perk up and as he makes eye contact with her, his lips curl up into a loving smile.

“Yes, Lita imo, it’s me…” he says shyly as he let the older woman hug him tightly. Lita is the head housekeeper who has been working for the family since Yeonjun could walk.

She’s the one who packed his lunches and sat with him at the dinner table when his parents were too busy working. The only person he truly missed from the household was her. So, seeing her again after all this time made his heart swell.

He just wishes the circumstances were a little different.

She sighed as she held him at arms-length and studied him for a second. “Did you grow even more? When does it stop? You’re getting scary tall. And where did your baby cheeks go huh?” she says pinching his cheek, making sure to baby him like she used to.

“Ah-ah-ah” he whines as she let go of his cheek. They were beaming at each other and his mother noticed. A faint smile also on her face as she watched their dynamic.

She never really noticed how close they were until now.

“I’ll go make your bed. You must be tired from the trip.” Lita says, patting his shoulder before she makes her way up the stairs and into his old bedroom.

Yeonjun watched her go up with a small smile and sighed contently.

He followed his mother into the formal living room and sat down on the couch, letting his fingers graze over the velvety material.

“So…where is he?” he asks looking at his mom.

“He’s in the hospital.”

“Do we go…tonight?” He asks, uncertainty evident in his tone of voice.

“Yes, but let’s have some dinner first alright? I told Lita to make your favourite.”

“I can’t believe you stole the tournament bus,” Taehyun says clicking his tongue.

“It’s not stealing if I have a key.” Soobin argues back. “Besides how else were we all going to fit in the same car.”

The small bus had space for exactly 7 people, so you were glad it was even an option. Soobin being the team captain and all had its perks. He has keys to almost every facility and even the fucking school building.

“I hope this little stunt doesn’t get me suspended,” he says nervously biting his lip.

“No one will notice it’s missing hyung, it’s summer break.” Hueningkai retorts as he leans forward to pat Soobin on the back. Hueningkai was seated next to Taehyun in the middle row, while you and Beomgyu cozied up together in the back seats as Mia assisted Soobin with navigating in the front seat.

If the situation was any different, this could have accounted for a fun road trip with your friends, but the reality of things was a lot more somber.

“No, baby no! It’s a left here.” Mia panics as Soobin misses the exit.

“You said the next one!” he whines, slightly raising his voice.

“This is the next one!”

“Ugh, great. That at least an hour detour,” Taehyun states yanking the phone from Mia’s grip to inspect the route.

“Don’t get annoyed with each other already, we’ve been driving for only an hour,” you say interrupting the couples’ arguing.

Everyone was tense. None of you knew what the fuck you were even driving towards, where you would stay, what you would do when you’d see him. It was a permanent decision made on temporary feelings and you were anxious, to say the least, and given everyone’s attitudes, so were they.

“Well originally it was only 5 more hours, but thanks to someone it turned into 6.” Soobin says, which made Mia glare at him venomously.

“We’ll be lucky if we arrive before midnight with breaks included.” Taehyun states calculating quickly as he passes the phone back to Mia.

Beomgyu was asleep with his head on your shoulder, ignoring all the banter. You envied his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time and sighed as you fixed a piece of his hair.

“It’s not the end of the world guys.” Hueningkai says calming them down. “I know we’re all nervous and every second counts, but we don’t even have a plan for when we get there,”

“The plan is to be there for him.” Soobin says tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“No matter what.”

Yeonjun stood frozen on his feet with his hand on the doorknob to his fathers’ private hospital suite. The amount of security he had to go through was of insane proportions. If his mom wasn’t there to confirm that his dad indeed had a son, he was sure he wouldn’t even be able to enter on his own.

He let go of the knob and inhaled sharply before turning around to face his mother.

“I can’t do this,” he says with a shaky voice while his enlarged pupils dart to his mothers’ equally dark ones.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asked putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as her brows furrow in concern.

Yeonjun thinks about it for a second but shakes his head in reply.

If he’s gonna do it, he’ll do it by himself. Though the presence of his friends would have helped, that wasn’t an option.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” His mother assures, and for some reason, that small sentence of encouragement was all he needed. Hell, it was the most encouragement he’s gotten from his mom his entire life, so he took it with both hands.

He nodded to himself, his demeanor shifting to a much more confident one as the look in his eyes changed while twisting the doorknob.

He peaked his head through, knocking on the door softly. The view of his father was blocked by the figure of a nurse but as she turned to look at who was at the door, his father was in full view.

His mom was right, his condition was bad.

The once so powerful and unbreakable businessman Daniel Choi looked everything but those things.

He had lost a lot of weight, his cheeks sunken, hair gray. His lips were chapped and dry, as was his skin. All in all, he looked sick, and far more dead than alive.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened at the sight. There was no way that Yeonjun wanted to show empathy towards the man but somehow, he felt bad for him.

“Yeonjun, right?” the nurse says as she smiles at Yeonjun warmly.

He just nods in response and notices how his dad has only been staring at the wall in front of him, not responding to anything that was going on.

Yeonjun closes the door behind him and walks towards the nurse, keeping his eyes on his dad.

“He’s sedated to cope with the pain. He can hear you and see you. He responds if you get close enough, though it might take some time for him to process what is going on around him.”

Yeonjun nervously bit his lip, the sudden wave of emotions he was feeling becoming too much for him. He didn’t anticipate this, he thought he could have at least had one last normal conversation with him.

“Does he even remember me?” Is the first thing he says, the sound of his voice made Daniel’s head snap into Yeonjun’s direction and it startled Yeonjun.

His father’s fingers started to twitch in response. His movement became more demanding and the nurse immediately went over to him to calm him down.

“All he’s been asking for the past few weeks is you, Yeonjun. I think he’s surprised to see you too,” she says as she gives your dad a slight smile, patting his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

All Daniel was looking at was Yeonjun. He kept trying to lift his hand to motion to Yeonjun that he should come closer, but the message wasn’t quite clear.

Yeonjun didn’t know what to do, he stood awkwardly frozen in place as he watched his dad become more and more restless.

“Do I need to leave?” He asked a little distressed.

“No, I actually think he wants you to come closer, it’s okay. You can sit next to him on the stool. He’ll appreciate it,” she says holding out her hand as she motions for him to approach.

He took a deep breath and looked his father in the eye once more as he walked towards the bed.

His dad seemed to calm down as Yeonjun sat down beside him. His eyes scanning his son's face. He was able to grab Yeonjun’s hand, which surprised him, but he didn’t have the heart to pull away.

“I’ll give you two some space, if anything happens; press that button above his bed” the nurse says pointing toward the rectangular looking remote.

Yeonjun nodded, giving her a last look as she walked out. When the door closed behind her, he averted his attention back to his father. Sighing loudly as he looked at their intertwined fingers.

“You must really be out of your mind if you’re voluntarily holding my hand.” Yeonjun thinks out loud, speaking under his breath as he stares at their hands.

He felt tears prickle his eyes. His bottom lip trembling as the first tear escapes his eye.

He felt his father squeeze his hand, which made him look up at him.

“I really do hate you.” Yeonjun says in between sobs. “I do. I hate you.”

His father just looked at him, blinking a couple of times to show that he understands.

“So why the fuck am I even crying,” he huffs. This is a rhetorical question of course. He knows exactly why he’s crying. He’s crying because he’s powerless.

Yeonjun tears turned into frustration as he yanks his hand from his dad’s grasp. Angrily wiping his tears away as he collects himself.

“You can hear everything right?”

No response.

“Can you blink once for yes and twice for No.”

One blink.

Yeonjun sniffed nodding to himself as he organizes his thoughts. “Ok. So, we can communicate,” he thinks out loud.

His confidence returned, he rolls his shoulders back and places his hands on his thighs as he straightens out his posture.

“Why did you want me here?” Yeonjun asks getting straight to the point.

Daniel cocked his head to the side to show confusion, but his fathers’ confusion to the question only confused Yeonjun more.

“You wouldn’t tell mom why you wanted to see me. So why did you.”

His father tried to speak, but it was to no avail as he gave up quickly. Sighing in frustration at the fact that he couldn’t form words.

“Right, that’s not a yes or no question.” Yeonjun realizes, crossing his legs as he buries his face in his hands, lightly massaging his own scalp to release the tension in his brain.

After a few seconds he looks up, catching his dad staring at him intensely. Yeonjun uncomfortably shifted in his seat, noticing how his dad was getting more restless as he tried his best to form words.

“T-t-table.”

Yeonjun’s mouth fell agape to the sound of his dad's voice. “The table? Which table?” he asks getting up. Looking around frantically to catch any clues to what his dad is trying to tell him.

He followed his fathers’ gaze and quickly walked towards the expensive-looking mahogany table in the left corner of the room.

His eyes fall on an envelope with his name on it. His fingers ghost over the paper material, scanning it thoroughly as he picks it up.

He looks back at his dad who was still staring back at him. Yeonjun nodded. Taking the envelope with him as he sat back down on the stool.

“You want me to read this?” he asks, which earned one clear blink.

“Alright.” Yeonjun sighs as he opens the letter.

“To Yeonjun.” he reads aloud.

I don’t know whether or not you will read this when I’m dead or alive, but that’s not the point. After you’ve read this, make sure no one else does.

Even if you think I didn’t show interest in your life, I watched your every move. I know about your schoolwork, your team, your friends, the girl you like. I know it all.

I’ve had people watch you for me ever since I found out I was dying. Which has been years now. I made them write me reports on your character, your skills, and the way people perceive you and I have to say, I was surprised, to say the least.

You have proven yourself to be a leader rather than a follower. You are passionate, hard-working, smart and competent and will do literally anything to fight for your goals.

The only reason you are all of these things is because you had to work for it. You were never emotionally cradled as a child and from an early age you were aware that success is something you don’t just gain without a bead of sweat

You have seen the world at its darkest before you could feel what true happiness is, and that was not done unintentionally.

Your upbringing might have been tough. But it’s what you needed to become the ruthless and determined person that you are today.

That same ruthlessness and determination are what Choi Enterprises needs. Which brings me to the point of this letter.

There is no other person on the planet that I entrust with the future of Choi Enterprises other than you.

I don’t trust your mother and therefore I cannot let the company fall into the hands of your mother and her cunning family.

For your entire life, all I did was make sure you were ready for this moment. And even though it came earlier than anticipated, If you sign the attached documents. It’s all yours effective immediately.

Power comes with a price that I was willing to pay.

And I hope that you will too.

- Daniel Choi.

Yeonjun blinks a couple of times to let it all register to him. He lifts his head from the paper and looks at his father's hopeful expression.

“You spied on me.” he says in disbelief.

“You spied on me, but you couldn’t send me a birthday card?” It was a figure of speech, though his dad got what he meant.

Anger filled Yeonjun’s senses. The audacity this took from his father is on another level of crazy.

He got up, kicking the stool he sat on aggressively, making it fall to the floor with a loud thud.

His dad didn’t even flinch. He just kept staring at Yeonjun with the same look from before.

“Tell me.”

Yeonjun says as he inches his face closer to his father.

“Do you regret it?”

Daniel cocked his head to the side in confusion and waited for Yeonjun to continue.

“Do you regret being an abusive piece of shit? The whole, you needed to live through it to become strong shit isn’t cutting it for me. Do you regret it? Yes or No.”

Yeonjun was seething. He was inches away from his dad, fists balled, wrinkling the letter and attached documents in his left hand as a result of his strength as he anticipated his fathers’ answer.

The look in Daniel’s eyes went cold followed by two blinks.

“No.” Yeonjun scoffs. “Of course, you don’t.”

Yeonjun took a step back, clearing his throat as he swallowed his anger with it.

“Well in that case…” he says inspecting the papers in his hands. He held it in front of his line of sight, making sure his dad can see what he’s about to do.

He held on to each side of the pile of papers, ripping it in half slowly.

“Take that contract to your fucking grave.” He spits as he throws it into the nearest trash can.

His dad started to panic, convulsing aggressively in his bed. Gulping for air as he tried his best to move and speak at the same time.

Yeonjun pressed the distress button and stormed out of the room, not bidding his dad another look.

He slammed the door behind him, startling his mother who was waiting for him in the hall.

“Yeonjun!” she yelled after him. She quickly looked back to the room her husband was in, shocked with the sight of multiple nurses trying to hold him down.

She didn’t hesitate to run after Yeonjun, catching him in the hallway.

“Yeonjun wait a second!”

He halted his long strides, breathing heavily as he turned around on his heels.

“What happened in there?” his mother asks wide-eyed as she lays a hand on his shoulder in order to calm him down.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says clenching his jaw, shaking his mothers hand off of his shoulder.

“Okay…whenever you’re ready.” she tries carefully, trying not to tick him off any further.

“Let’s go home. You’ve been through enough today.”

“Hyung are you sure you put in the right address?” Hueningkai asks wide-eyed as he got out of the van first.

“This can’t be it,” Taehyun says with his mouth agape. “This isn’t even considered a house. It looks like a damn palace.”

“I knew Yeonjun’s family was loaded but this…” Mia remarks.

You get out of the car, your mouth going dry as you look at the biggest house you’ve seen in your life. It was modern, yet rustic. The home had huge windows and white pillars and there was a huge stone staircase that lead up to the front door.

“How many bathrooms do you think they have?” Beomgyu gulps, his eyes darting from one side of the house to the other.

“Really? That’s what’s important right now?” Taehyun argues

“I’m just curious,” Beomgyu says rolling his eyes.

“Well..let’s….knock?” Soobin says with uncertainty peeking through his voice.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you didn’t know what you would walk into. You weren’t sure how Yeonjun would feel to see you again or to see any of you right now. You had hoped the 6 turned 7-hour drive wasn’t for nothing, and that you could talk to Yeonjun with a clear mind.

Soobin took the lead with the rest of you trailing behind him. He sighed looking back at you guys before he built up the courage to ring the doorbell.

All of you were dead silent, anticipating for the door to be opened.

After a few more seconds, the large double doors open automatically, with a timid rather small lady standing in the doorway with an equally confused expression on her face to match yours.

That can’t be his mother? Right? They look nothing alike.

“Ehm…can I help you? It’s close to midnight? You do realize this is private property?” Lita says looking at the group with suspicion.

“Ehm, Hi mam, my name is Soobin, these are my friends…well…Yeonjun’s friends. We kind of…followed him here.” Soobin stammers incoherently. “But with good intent! We just…want to be there for him because…well…we think he’s having a hard time and-“

“Soobin.” You say shutting him up. “I think she gets it.”

Yeonjun heard multiple voices at the front door and came down the stairs out of curiosity. As he turns the corner, seeing a raven-haired tall figure at the front. He knew exactly who it was.

His eyes widened as his pace quickened, walking towards the voices a little faster.

You saw Yeonjun emerge from behind the lady, and when his eyes landed on all of you, he stood frozen on his feet next to her. The first one he made eye contact with is you.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before the smaller lady interrupted the moment.

“Yeonjun, do you know these people?” She asks with a much kinder tone as she speaks to him.

“Y-yes, these are my friends,” Yeonjun says breaking eye contact with you, looking at the rest.

“How did you find out where I lived?”

“Y/n found out actually…there was a box in your room with the address on it…under your bed,” Mia says jumping in.

Yeonjuns eyes landed on you once again, giving you a small smile which you reciprocated, not knowing what else to do.

“Hyung, if you don’t want us here, I’m so sorry. But the way you left, we were worried and-”

Soobin couldn’t finish his sentence before Yeonjun pulled him towards him with a hard pull. The two hugged for a few seconds before Yeonjun let go, putting his hand on Soobin's shoulder as he looked at all of you with pure affection.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here…I don’t know what to say,” he says scratching the back of his head, still a little lost for words.

“How about, come in. It’s freezing.” Beomgyu says giving the older one a bitter smile as he chatters his teeth dramatically to show that he was cold.

Yeonjun chuckled, stepping aside so all of you could enter. And so, you did.

All of your jaws dropped at the interior and detail that went into the decoration of the place. The hall was huge and connected all of the separate rooms and wings together. Apart from the dark tiled floors, the colour scheme was light. Different shades of whites and nudes made up the interior. It was stylish, yet classic at the same time, with pops of colours from different flowers in huge vases.

“Do I need to prepare the guest rooms?” Lita asks a little flustered at the sudden appearance of 6 more guests.

Ah…so she’s the housekeeper, you think to yourself as you snap back to reality.

Mia nudged you, mouthing a subtle ‘Marry him’ to you, which you roll your eyes at.

“Uhm, yes. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Lita.” Yeonjun says bidding her a quick nod as Lita walks off quickly.

Yeonjun’s attention focused on all of you again, and Hueningkai barged his way through, ready to hug Yeonjun tightly.

“Hyung, are you okay? What happened?” he asks as he rubbed the older one’s belly while he still clung onto him like he always does.

His mother stood at the top of the stairs, unnoticed by any of you. She looked at the dynamic of all of you, especially looking at how clingy Hueningkai was with her son. She didn’t peg Yeonjun to be the type for physical affection like this.

A smile crept on her face, moved by the fact that his friends would go to these lengths to be there for him.

She tied her robe around herself, making her way down the stairs. And as she did so, Beomgyu noticed. He nudged Taehyun and motioned for him to look up, so he did, followed by all of you as you fell silent.

Yeonjun looked in the same direction all of you were focusing your gazes on, and immediately understood why you fell quiet like that.

As she made her way down the stairs, you got a closer look at her face, and the resemblance she had to Yeonjun was almost scary.

“Yeonjun? Who are these people?” Her voice was clear and warm, a little raspy cause she was probably asleep before you invaded her home.

She scanned everyones faces but when her eyes landed on you, they lingered on you, and it made you feel incredibly self-conscious.

Your paranoid ass started to get insecure, thinking she knew something about your relationship with her son, but her attention was quickly averted as Yeonjun spoke up.

“Is it okay if they stay here?” he asked politely.

“Of course, make yourselves at home. Any friend of Yeonjun’s is welcome here. If you all move to the living room so you can talk, I’ll go make some tea.”

“Thanks, mom.”

This whole dialogue confused all of you. To your knowledge, their relationship was questionable. But this seemed like a regular Mother and Son dynamic.

His mother disappeared in the massive hall as Yeonjun motioned for all of you to walk towards the living room. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do but he was dying to know why you were here after everything he said to you.

He was sure that no matter the circumstance, you’d never want to see him again. Yet here you were, looking at him with those big doe eyes of yours.

As the rest of the group admired the rest of the house, walking towards the living room, Yeonjun stopped you by tugging at your elbow lightly.

Your heart raced as he touched you, you looked down, hooking your pinkie in his before you looked up at his face.

His eyes were sad, apologetic, and insecure. “I…didn’t expect you to come with them…” he says looking at your intertwined fingers.

You sighed, rubbing comforting circles into his palm with your thumb. “Let’s talk later ok?” you say giving him a small yet reassuring smile. He nodded, letting go of your hand, leading you into the formal living room.

He caught Beomgyu playing with an antique object and Yeonjun’s brotherly side immediately kicked in. “If you break that you’re gonna have to work all of your life to repay my mother,” he says sternly as he sat down in the chair opposite from the couch all of you were seated on.

Beomgyu quickly let go of the weird-looking object and cleared his throat. “Ok, spill the beans hyung. What’s going on?” He asks as he sat down on the armrest of Yeonjun’s chair.

Yeonjun sighed, not quite knowing where to start.

“First of all. I owe all of you an apology,” he starts choking up a little.

“Hyung…” Taehyun says, his eyes getting sad as he watched Yeonjun protectively.

The mood in the room suddenly shifted as Yeonjun sighed. You could swear his eyes were getting watery, and there was nothing more that you wanted than to hold him in your arms right now. You wanted to comfort him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you had no idea what was going on yet.

His mother emerged from the entrance with a tray full of teacups and cookies. She put down the tray and stood beside Yeonjun in silence.

“I’m sorry for acting the way I did on the night of the party. The way I acted towards you guys was uncalled for, especially towards you… y/n.”

You lock eyes with him again, and you feel his mothers’ eyes on you as well.

Hueningkai sat down in front of Yeonjun on the floor, putting a comforting hand on his knee.

Yeonjun gave him a small smile. Out of nervousness, Soobin grabbed Mia’s hand and squeezed it as all of you anticipated his next words.

“That night, I stayed at my uncle's house. The next morning my mom showed up to talk to me. It took some time but…we found some type of middle ground and I agreed to come back home with her for a while.”

“So…what was the family emergency?” Soobin asks a little confused.

Yeonjun inhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. He fell quiet for a second, suddenly noticing the room full of people that cared enough about him to drive all the way across the country to comfort him in a situation they didn’t know of, even though he was being a complete asshole.

He didn’t know what he did to deserve them. He looked at them individually and his heart started to swell with the intense amount of love he felt for them.

He looked at Beomgyu’s arm around him, Hyuka’s comforting hand on his knee, Soobin’s worried and glistening eyes to match Taehyun’s, Mia’s protectiveness, and your patient yet scared facial expression.

He bit his lip, getting emotional and he felt Beomgyu pull him closer.

“My dad is counting his last days,” he says looking at the floor.

You didn’t know about anyone else, but this was the last thing you expected.

The room fell silent apart from a few gasps. Your heart sank to your stomach and tears start to prickle your eyes as you watch him struggle to contain his emotions. His lip was slightly trembling, his hand covering his mouth as his eyes were big and sad.

“Oh, Yeonjun…” Mia sighs as she rubs Soobin’s back to comfort him as well.

Soobin isn’t one to cry but seeing the people he loves the most go through pain is absolutely heartbreaking to him. He wiped a single tear from his eyes and so did Taehyun as he sighed loudly.

Yeonjun huffed, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes to look at his friends. “Don’t cry. Stop, please.” He starts.

“It’s going to sound awful, but I’m not sad that he’s dying. My dad was…is a horrible person. He was abusive, manipulative, and unreasonable. There was no one I feared more than that man. Every time I closed my eyes at night I wasn’t scared of aliens and monsters under my bed, I was scared of him coming into my room to yell at me or hit me. I think I’m sadder about the fact that I’ll never get an apology out of him for ruining me. I’ll never hear him say that he was wrong for the things that he did to me as a kid and that’s the hardest pill to swallow.” Yeonjun confessed all in one go.

You swallowed harshly, trying to suppress a sob. Taehyun noticed that you were having a hard time, so he put his arm around you, making you lean into him by subtly pulling you towards him.

“I went to see him today, and even though we couldn’t really communicate the way I hoped we would, he made it clear to me that he wasn’t sorry.”

“What…” Soobin says in disbelief. “He wasn’t remorseful at all?”

“No.” Yeonjun shook his head, contemplating if he should tell them about the contract and the company, but given the fact that his mother was in the room; he decided against it.

He didn’t know if he could trust her, for all he knew she could be after the money and the company herself. Knowing his mother, she could be just as ruthless as her dad when it came to business matters.

“Yeonjun, we’re here for you. Seriously. If you need anything at all just tell us. We won’t be leaving unless you tell us to.” Soobin states confidently as they look each other in the eye. His words made Yeonjun feel assured, and he bid Soobin a small smile. It was nice knowing that he wouldn’t be going through this alone.

He took a deep breath, shaking the sadness off of him. “Thank you guys for coming, seriously. I think I needed all of you more than I thought I would.”

“Of course,” Hueningkai says.

“Anytime, we’re family,” Beomgyu says as he squeezed Yeonjun’s shoulder.

You heard a small scoff from the left corner of the room and saw his mother with her arms crossed.

You narrowed your eyes at her, raising your brow.

“Friends are friends, family is family,” she says, genuinely believing her own words.

Everyone was looking at her by now, as was Yeonjun who just sighed, ignoring her.

You don’t know why, but suddenly you feel a surreal amount of anger boiling in the pit of your stomach. You scoff at her statement which made Mia give you a warning look.

“We’ve been more of a family to him than you have been his whole life,” you say clear as day before you can think of the damage that you’ve just done, and just like that the atmosphere turned cold.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened, looking at you in shock.

Soobin uncomfortably shifted in his seat and Taehyun gave you a ‘bitch what the fuck was that’ look.

“Excuse me?” his mother’s tone changed completely. The once so soft-spoken woman turned into the ice queen herself and gave you a look that would normally make you run the opposite direction, but you held your ground by staring back at her fiercely.

“What she means is…” Taehyun jumps in quickly. “That we truly are a family, we’d go to hell and back for each other and that’s a fact…mam,” he says as politely as humanly possible.

You try your best not to roll your eyes, which Yeonjun noticed. He had an amused smile on his lips, which his mother then noticed and suddenly it clicked to her. You were the girlfriend who wasn’t his girlfriend. The girl that stole her son’s heart, and the girl that talked back to her in her own home.

“It’s getting late. I suggest everyone gets some sleep. You all must be tired from the long drive. We don’t know what is waiting for us tomorrow and if you are sticking by his side like you all say you are, then we better get some good night’s rest.” She says almost diplomatically, perfectly enunciating every word as if she rehearsed it.

You honestly didn’t even think of sleeping, you wanted to talk to Yeonjun, clear the air between you two, and comfort him to your best ability. He just told you his dad was dying, and his feelings were disregarded so quickly that it shocked you.

In your household, a revelation like this would result in hours upon hours of talking about your feelings, whereas in Yeonjun’s home. Feelings are seen as a temporary burden. It was scary how quickly the mood switched from emotional to almost business-like, but Yeonjun didn’t know any better. He was wired the exact same way as his mother because that’s how he had learned to deal with his feelings.

It’s like he only allowed himself to feel true emotion for a little while, seeing it as impractical to be vulnerable. This household really did feel like a business deal, which made your heartache for Yeonjun even more.

Soobin was the first to get up, stretching his tall body before he helped Mia to her feet as well.

Lita emerged from the entrance to lead all of you upstairs to your respective guest rooms.

Soobin and Mia shared a room, as did Hueningkai and Taehyun. Beomgyu and yourself, however, got rooms to yourselves with attached bathrooms in a whole different wing than the others.

From the outside, his house looked enormous, but from the inside, it was even bigger. You were already getting lost in the halls even though you were in a group. You had no idea where you came from every time you turned a corner and Yeonjun noticed how lost you were, chuckling to himself a little as he walked closely behind you.

You were the last one to be appointed to a room, as everyone else was already settling down.

“This is where you’ll be staying miss.” Lita says as she points to the door across from Beomgyu’s room.

You nod sheepishly, turning the doorknob. Your mouth fell agape at the sight of the room. You could swear it was as big as your apartment. The interior was classic, yet modern. And looking at the way the bed was made you were almost scared to wrinkle the bedsheets.

You swallow harshly, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“This will do, right? If not, I have a bigger option at the end of the hall.”

“N-no, this is fine, more than fine,” you stutter.

Yeonjun stood behind Lita, leaning against the doorframe with a shit-eating grin on his face.

He was enjoying your flustered state, as it took a lot to get your smart-ass anywhere close to dumbfounded.

You saw the playfulness in his eyes, and you cursed at yourself for being so obviously impressed with everything.

“If you need anything just give me a call with the house phone. The number is on your bedside table. Goodnight.” Lita says giving you a warm smile.

“Goodnight…” you mutter timidly as you close the door behind you after you watched Yeonjun walk off with her.

You lean your head against the doorframe, your mind spinning with all of the things that happened in such a short time frame.

You sigh, throwing your bag on the bed. You decided to take a quick shower. The attached bathroom looked like one out of a magazine, so it took some time for you to adjust and figure out how to set the right temperature for the faucet.

You really needed that shower to clear your mind and relax your muscles. You were basically clenching your butt cheeks the whole night out of nervousness, and you could already feel the muscles in your body getting sore. You sigh, finishing up your routine and slipping into an oversized shirt to sleep in.

During your whole routine, all you could think of was Yeonjun, and how badly you wanted to be alone with him right now.

You stare at the ceiling as you laid on your back, completely engulfed in the soft sheets and pillows of the bed.

You were wondering how he was doing, if he was thinking of you or if he was asleep.

You sit up, turning on the bedside lamp as you reach for your phone, ready to text or call him but your actions were interrupted as you heard soft knocks on your door.

Your eyes widened, knowing damn well that it was him.

You put your phone aside and crawled out of the bed with lightning speed.

When you opened the door and locked eyes with him, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his frame to hug him tightly.

He was surprised by your affection, wrapping his arms around you as well to hold you even tighter.

He closed his eyes as he buried his face in your hair, appreciating the moment.

God, he missed you.

You walked backwards, still in his hold as he closed the door behind him skillfully with his foot.

He let go of you slowly, grabbing your face as he searched for answers in your eyes for questions he hadn’t asked yet, but when you looked at him with the same longing facial expression as his, he knew enough.

He inched his face closer to yours, pulling you in for a soft and needy kiss that you yearned for so much. You stabilized yourself by holding on to his wrists as he kissed you with so much passion and hunger, that your mind went foggy. He pulled away slowly. Leaning his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Hi,” you say shyly, smiling up at him.

Your cuteness made him chuckle softly. “Hey,” he replies, letting go of you reluctantly.

You sit down on the bed and pat the spot next to you as a way of telling him to sit there. He complies and you face him, looking into his tired eyes.

You remove a stray piece of hair that was prickling his eyes and sigh.

“Tell me how you’re feeling, honestly,” you say taking a hold of his hand.

He takes a deep breath, knowing he can’t bullshit with you. “I’m not sure,” he confesses.

“It’s like one second I’m fine, and I forget what’s happening and the next I’m sad and angry. I feel bipolar,” he says letting himself fall flat to the bed.

You sigh, scooting closer to him. “That’s perfectly normal. I’m glad you’re still able to feel something given everything you’ve been through.”

He sighs loudly pulling you down with him, so you were situated on his chest. You comply, knowing that he needed you close for comfort, and to be really honest with yourself, you missed the feeling of having him close like this. You stay like that for a while, enjoying each other’s presence in the silence before he decided to break it.

“I’m so fucking sorry y/n,” he says in almost a whisper as he plays with your hair, lost in thought.

You stay silent, getting sad as you think back to your explosive fight. “I should have never slapped you,” you admit choking up. The fact that you did was something you couldn’t get out of your mind nor forgive yourself for. Especially after Soobin told you about his abusive childhood, all you could do was hate yourself for it.

Yeonjun noticed the crack in your voice and sits up immediately with you still in his arms.

“Y/n if I was you, I would have done more than just slapped me in the face, I deserved that. It’s okay,” he says shushing you, caressing your cheek in order to calm you down.

You take a deep breath, blinking away the fluid in your eyes before you start to speak. “No, it’s not. And let’s not sugar-coat it. We were both wrong, and we were both right at the same time. I just don’t understand how we go from paradise to hell in a matter of seconds Yeonjun, it’s what scares me about us.”

He just nods, not being able to counter act your statement because you were right.

The not being able to live with or without each other was a level of toxicity that you swore you’d never fall for. But yet here you are, wrapped up in the arms of the man who basically told you his best friend could have you now that he’s done with you.

You can’t even tell him how many times those words rang through your head like a painful mantra, but that’s the last thing that you want to burden him with right now.

“I forgive you,” you say breaking the silence. “I really do. I know you only said those things to push me away because you’re afraid to let me in, but you’re not the only one that’s scared Yeonjun. So am I. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone and that’s just…’

“Scary,” he says, finishing your sentence.

“Yeah..”

Yeonjuns shoulders fell, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “We can figure out what all of this means for us later, but for now I’m just really, really happy you’re here right now.”

You nod in agreement, kissing his jaw affectionately before you wrap your arm around his waist again, and suddenly his mind flashed back to the little altercation between you and his mother.

“I can’t believe you talked back to my mom like that.” He snorts as he pulls you back down again, making himself comfortable with you laying across his chest.

“I’m sorry but it was the fucking hypocrisy that did it for me,” you huff a little annoyed as you think back to the moment.

Yeonjun just chuckles, and you feel his chest vibrate as he does so. “I don’t know. I get what you mean but she’s been trying. I can’t move forward with her if I don’t give her a chance to change but…I don’t trust her yet,” he says lost in thought.

“What don’t you trust her with?”

Yeonjun bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating if he should tell you about the whole ordeal with his dad this afternoon, but since he wanted your opinion on the matter, he decided to tell you.

“I told you guys I went to visit my dad, right?” He says rubbing your back absentmindedly.

You nod, looking up at him. “What happened?”

“He wrote me a letter saying that he’s been keeping tabs on me, and that he wants me to take over the business because he doesn’t’ trust my mom.”

“Wow, wow, wow. What?” you say sitting up again.

“Yeah, that was a very rough summary,” he says propping himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“He kept tabs on you?”

“He had people spy on me. It’s scary baby, he even knew of you.”

Your eyes widen in shock. It’s like you were suddenly involved as a pawn in a very complex game of chess and you didn’t know what to think of it.

“And he wants you to take over Choi Enterprises?”

Yeonjun just nods, looking up at the ceiling.

“Well…are you?”

“It’s never what I wanted. And It’s not like I want to grant his dying wish or anything like that but…”

“But?”

“It is my birthright.”

You blink a couple of times, letting his words register. If Yeonjun was seriously contemplating whether or not to take the position of acting CEO, you were sure he wouldn’t need some lame college degree to back him up. He’d drop out of school; move back to his hometown and you’d never see him again. Selfishly it’s not what you wanted, but it wasn’t about you. It was about him.

“If I just let my mom run the company, I could always roll in if I wanted to, but if I would go behind her back and acquire the position myself, it’d break the little trust we built.”

“What if your mom is just using your good heart to get to that position herself?” You ask thinking out loud.

“You think she’d do that?” Yeonjun says genuinely interested, not offended at all by the assumption. If anything, he was happy to have someone to talk to, so he could look at the situation from multiple perspectives.

“I mean…what do you really know about her?” You ask tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers to keep yourself occupied.

Yeonjun looked at you, biting his lip as he got lost in thought again.

“My dad did mention something in the letter about her, and her quote ‘cunning family’ being after Choi Enterprises, but I don’t know it just…seems like a stretch. My mom knows I don’t have interest in the company.”

You halt your movements, laying back down on his chest as you make yourself comfortable.

He looked down at you lovingly, giving you a quick kiss on your lips when you looked up at him again.

“Maybe ask him about it. I can come with you if you want. First thing in the morning.”

Yeonjun’s brows raised in surprise. “You’d do that?” he asks a little baffled at the fact that you’d voluntarily throw yourself in a lion’s den for him. This wasn’t just like visiting a relative in the hospital, there was so much more at stake that even Yeonjun himself couldn’t fathom right now.

You nod, not having to think twice about it. “Anything for you.”

The two of you fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each others’ warmth with your arms and legs tangled together. It was the best sleep both of you had gotten in the past couple of days. Though it was a short night, you were well-rested.

At around 8 AM you texted Soobin that Yeonjun and yourself went out to talk to each other in private when in reality you were going to visit the hospital to see Yeonjun’s dad. You were sure everyone was still in deep sleep and that you’d be back before they’d notice, but it felt better to at least let someone know that you left the house together.

The car ride was silent, nerves eating at the both of you as you held hands while he drove. He was nervously biting the inside of his cheek like he always does, and never let go of your hand the whole way.

As you walk through the endless halls of the hospital and pass security to the VIP section; you started to get more intimidated by the level of security present. They let Yeonjun through without a word and you trailed behind him with big eyes as you held onto his hand tightly.

He sighed, turning around to look at you as he stops in front of a massive double door. “Last time I saw him I stormed out in anger. Even when he’s not responsive he makes my blood boil and I honestly don’t want you to see me like that if it happens again.” He confesses as he looks at you seriously.

You sigh, squeezing his hand as reassurance. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving your side.”

Yeonjun nodded, taking a deep breath before he prepared himself as he opened the door to his fathers’ VIP area, but the sight he was welcomed with, was the last one he expected.

You noticed how he froze, and you frowned, standing on your toes to peek over his shoulder but your heart dropped to your stomach as you saw and heard what was going on.

Doctors and nurses were frantically trying to resuscitate Yeonjun’s father.

“CLEAR!”

The loud and continuous beeping of the heart monitor, followed by the charging sounds of the defibrillator was all the confirmation you needed to know that he was flatlining.

Panic was evident, and you knew that despite all the efforts of the doctors, chances were little to nothing that they’d be able to bring him back, given the state he was already in.

Your gasp was noticed by a few nurses and doctors which made one of them groan in disapproval.

“How did they get in here!? No one is allowed inside.” The doctor huffs before he charged the defibrillator again.

“CLEAR!”

Yeonjun watched his father’s body contort as the joules of electricity were charged through his chest, but it was to no avail.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” One of the nurses says as she blocks the view.

Yeonjun pupils darted from his father to the doctors. He was in pure shock and unable to comprehend was going on before you lightly tugged at his hand.

“Yeonjun,” you say in almost a whisper, trying to snap him out of it as you squeeze his hand.

“I-I’m his son,” Yeonjun says in an attempt to stick around. The same nurse from the day before gave him an apologetic look as she slowly pushed him out the door, while another doctor closed the curtain.

“I’m really sorry Yeonjun, but it’s protocol. You have to wait outside.”

She closed the door behind her and left the two of you completely paralyzed in the halls of the VIP ward.

Yeonjun turned around, leaning his back to the wall as his legs became weak. He slowly crouched down, and the sight broke your heart into a million pieces.

He wasn’t crying, he didn’t even look sad. He was just frozen.

He looked into nothingness as he listened to what was going on inside of the room.

You quickly crouch down with him, not knowing what to do other than hold his hand and caressing his face with your free hand.

He still stared at the wall across from him as you pulled him close, making him rest his face on your shoulder as you whispered sweet nothings to him while he had to listen to what was going on in the other room.

The continuous beeping noise of the heart monitor followed by the sounds of the defibrillator sent chills down your spine as you held him to your best ability.

He didn’t respond to you or react to anything else, and when the noises halted after a minute or so, you knew they called it.

He closed his eyes, suddenly tightening his arms around you as realization struck him.

“Time of death, 8.43 AM.”

You were seated in the family room of the hospital, handing Yeonjun a plastic cup filled with water.

He snapped out his thoughts and accepted the cup, taking a sip from it while avoiding eye contact with you.

He hadn’t quite looked at you yet. He was continuously staring into the void and it was starting to become scary. You wished he’d just say something, but he wasn’t able to, so you gave him time.

You promised you wouldn’t leave his side, and you were keeping that promise by handling the communication with the nurse, so he didn’t have to. You had called Soobin to tell him what was going on and you were sure they’d all be here in no time.

You sat down across from him, trying to give him some space to gather his thoughts but it was like he wasn’t even in the room with you.

You sigh, taking a sip of your own cup of water and just as you were about to speak, his mother walked in followed by your friends.

She stepped aside as the boys enveloped Yeonjun in a tight hug, while Mia stood beside you, squeezing your shoulder lightly to show support.

Yeonjun sighed into the hug, loosening up a little and his frozen state seemed to vanish.

Again, he wasn’t getting emotional, but he closed his eyes, letting his friends hold him in silence for a while.

The sight made your eyes water a little, but you choked back your tears, not wanting to be the one to start crying when no one else was.

His mother turned her attention to you, and you looked back at her while Mia was protectively standing next to you, still with her hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you for handling the communication with the staff. That must not have been easy, and I apologize for the fact that you had to do that. That should have been me. I’m sorry.”

You were taken aback by her apology and quickly shake your head in response. “No, no, please. Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do.”

She gave you a simple nod and averted her attention to Yeonjun. He got up from the chair and walked over to his mother, opening up his arms for her.

She hesitated but went for the hug anyway, closing her eyes as she inhaled his scent, letting him hold her for a bit. The physical affection making her tear up.

He rubbed her back, patting her hair.

“It’s ok mom, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Everything happened so incredibly fast that you weren’t even able to process what the hell was going on around you. The Choi family had people for people who worked for those people, which meant that the funeral was basically held within the next day.

Lita made sure that the boys, Mia, and yourself had something appropriate to wear for the ceremony and you were in Yeonjun’s room, dressed and ready just half an hour before the service would start.

You were seated on his bed, watching him fix his tie in the mirror.

He had been super quiet and detached, and you wanted to give him space, but he was adamant about the fact that he wanted you around. He hadn’t shed a single tear and didn’t even really talk about what happened. It was mostly you doing the talking for him.

Having to explain what you saw was rough, and you were worried it’d trigger something inside Yeonjun, but it didn’t. He kept himself composed and strong, and you were curious how long he could keep that façade alive.

You snap back from your thoughts and watch him struggle with tying his tie. A small smile crept upon your lips and you get up from the bed, walking towards him to do it for him.

He looked at you lovingly, holding on to your waist as he watched you tie the knot expertly just like your father taught you.

“What can’t you do?” he asks amused, looking down at you.

You look up at him through your lashes and scoff. “Get you to open up apparently,” you say as you finish up, giving him a soft pat on his chest to let him know you’re all done.

He blinked a couple of times, biting his lip.

“I love you.”

Your eyes snap up to his in shock, making sure you didn’t just imagine that.

“W-what?”

“I love you,” he repeats, giving you a small smile as he fixes a piece of your hair.

“Y-Yeonjun I-” you stutter.

His confession was loud and clear, though it took you some time to process. You had no idea where it was coming from, but as you looked him in the eye; all he showed was confidence and sincerity.

“I think I knew the night of our fight, I wanted you as far away from me as possible to protect you from myself, and my uncle out of all people made me realize that that’s something you do out of love.” He explains making sense of his words.

“I don’t know what love feels like y/n, but when I look at you…the way you handled this whole thing. Sticking by me and supporting me emotionally even though I see you struggle with your own emotions it’s just…” He sighs, organizing his thought before he spoke again.

“I couldn’t put into words, how much I care for you and appreciate you, and that’s when it clicked that there’s a whole ass expression for that feeling,” he says, letting his hands travel to your waist again.

“I love you y/n. So, fucking much that it hurts,” he admits, closing his eyes as he leans his forehead to yours.

You sigh contently, letting your hand travel up to his cheek, softly caressing it before you peck his lips softly.

“I love you too.”

Yeonjun didn’t expect you to say it back to him, but you meant every word you said. His eyes snapped open and a huge boyish grin crept upon his face, his eyes glistening with pleasure as he pulled you towards him roughly, which made you yelp in response.

“You do?” He asks beaming at you.

“Yes Yeonjun, now wipe that grin off your face. We have a funeral to attend,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes.

He snorted, letting go of you reluctantly, stealing a chaste kiss from you before he opened the door to his bedroom.

“After you, my love.”

You were warned beforehand that the funeral would be more like a business event rather than a private family gathering. The ceremony took place in their back yard, so luckily you didn’t have to worry about running late.

The number of people you were introduced to, given the fact that Yeonjun paraded you around like an accessory was overwhelming. The only people that really stuck out to you were his uncle, Namjoon, and his wife Hye-Jin.

They were so happy to meet you that it felt like they already knew you personally.

Yeonjun basically had his game face on the whole night, it was a side to him that you hadn’t seen before and you realized that you missed the carefree, peer pong playing college boy from before.

As Yeonjun was talking to some stockholders, you decided to find your friends again.

“So…you and Yeonjun hyung are officially a thing now?” Taehyun asks as you join their table, completely exhausted from fake smiling to all the people you just met.

“Don’t think I don’t notice how he sneaks into your room every night y/n. Your room is literally right across from mine.” Beomgyu says as he gives you a bitter smile.

You roll your eyes at him as you smack his arm, earning a small yelp from him.

Soobin looked at you expectantly waiting for you to answer Taehyun’s question and you just nodded.

“We worked things through, I’ll tell you the details later but…we haven’t had the boyfriend, girlfriend talk yet.”

“Well, the timing is a little…” Mia starts.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Hueningkai sighs, throwing his head back in annoyance. “What is going on, first Soobin hyung and Mia, then Beomgyu hyung and Ryujin and now Yeonjun hyung and you? Is there something in the air that I don’t know about?”

The group started snickering softly, trying not to be rude given the fact that you were at a funeral.

“Maybe I should just start dating Taehyun.” He says jokingly nudging his friend.

“Actually, I’m kind of talking to someone too,” he says waving off the confused looks of everyone as he smiled at all of you.

“If it’s Yeonjun’s mom, I swear to god.” Beomgyu says.

“Ew, no. What the fuck.”

“Can all of you please behave? Please. Just one night.” Soobin begs as he rubs his forehead, which made Mia chuckle, patting his back in comfort.

Soon after the music stopped. A spokesperson of the family took the stage, telling everyone to take a seat. Yeonjun’s eyes found yours, and he basically told you in sign language that he couldn’t join you guys, as it is expected that he sits at the front with his mother.

The ceremony was simple and short. There were multiple speakers and every once in a while, you checked Yeonjun’s facial expression to see how he was holding up.

You noticed how the same hollowness returned if he didn’t have to act like the perfect son to all the attendees, and it worried you.

After his mother took the stage, shedding a few rehearsed tears, they lowered the casket, and the ceremony was basically over with. Watching his mother put on such an academy award-winning performance, made you realize that apart from you, your friends and the immediate family, no one knew what kind of person Choi Daniel really was.

It made you sick to your stomach that he was being honoured as if he was some type of hero.

A few hours pass before the last guests leave the house. Your group was seated together in the formal living room, and when Yeonjun enters with an exhausted look on his face, all of you fall quiet as you stare at him.

He let himself fall onto the lounge chair and loosened his tie, slouching down in his seat as he threw his head back.

“Are you okay?” Mia asks, being the first to speak up.

“I’m just drained I guess,” Yeonjun says rubbing his temples.

“Well, we are leaving tomorrow, so we can go back to our normal lives asap. I feel like I’ve walked into some K-drama.” Taehyun retorts as he sits down as well.

Yeonjun lifts his head, biting his lip as he looks at the group of people he cares about the most. “Right, about that…”

His eyes find yours and you can already see that he’s sorry about something.

You cock your head to the side, waiting for him to continue, and then he sighs.

“I’m not coming back with you guys,” he says apologetically. “At least…not for a while. I can’t just leave my mom in the midst of all of this. There's so much more that needs to be taken care of…”

Your heart sank a little, but it was understandable for him to stick around longer.

Mia narrowed her eyes at Yeonjuns words, and the guys just hummed understandingly.

“How long will you be gone for then?” Hueningkai asks.

“Till the end of Summer I think,” Yeonjun replies, his eyes finding yours.

You understood the circumstances, but you were shocked, to say the least. Even though you’ve been together non-stop since the incident, he hadn’t talked to you about it.

He gave you a sad look when you avoided his gaze, which Mia noticed as she looked at you two.

Yeonjun decided he had enough of the gloomy atmosphere and decided to crack open his fathers’ expensive collection of aged wines and scotches.

Since they were at home, he let the minors indulge a little too. Everyone was letting loose a little. The old playful group dynamic returned slowly but you were still lost in thought about Yeonjun’s decision to stay behind.

He noticed how you sat far away from him and sighed. He walked towards you. Asking you to come with him to the kitchen and you agreed. Feeling that it was best to talk about this before you make matters worse by overthinking.

You took a seat at the breakfast bar, waiting for him to start talking, but he just looked at you with concern.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says.

“I was just…speaking to so many people today and I realized I can’t just pretend that this part of my life doesn’t exist anymore. Especially now that he’s gone.”

“Yeonjun, I’m not mad. I just…don't get why you would tell me you love me when you knew that you weren’t going to come back with us," you say as you play with your fingers

His eyes widened and he got closer to you. Taking a hold of your hands after he made you look up at him by tugging at your chin.

“Hey, It’s just a few weeks. Nothing will change the way I feel about you; I promise. I just need time to unravel all of these family secrets. I never got to ask him why he didn’t trust my mother and after today I just…I have to figure it out.”

You nod, understanding completely. Somehow you wanted him to ask you to stay here with him for the rest of summer, but the fact that he didn’t was all that you needed to know.

“Don’t be sad okay, we’ll stay in contact,” he says as he caresses your cheek.

You nod and lean into his touch which made him smile. He inched his face closer to kiss you softly.

You didn’t know what, but something was off about him. He looked at you with affection but at the same time, his eyes were hollow, almost soulless.

A small knock on the wall snaps both of you back to reality, your heads snap back to see Mia in the doorway looking at you both seriously.

“Y/n, Soobin needs your help with something.” She says as she gives you a small smile.

You frown, and so does Yeonjun, but you decide to go see for yourself, not thinking much of it.

“Alright then?” you say as you get up from the barstool, walking towards the formal living room.

Mia’s gaze followed you out the door, and before Yeonjun could walk back to the living room with you. She stops him.

“You’re not coming back are you?” She asks, looking him in the eye sternly.

Well, fuck.

Yeonjun sighs. He should have known. Mia sees through anyone’s bullshit; and given how protective she is of y/n. He knew he had to tell her the truth before she beat it out of him.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admits, avoiding eye contact with her.

Mia’s shoulder fell, her eyes getting sad. It was just an assumption she had, but she didn’t expect him to tell her the truth this easily.

“Yeonjun…you can’t do that to her.”

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?” he says raising his voice a little. He glanced through the hall at the group, making sure you didn’t hear him before his gaze returned to Mia.

She stared back at him in disbelief, waiting for him to explain himself.

“I just…I need time. I can’t be what she deserves the way I am now. It could take weeks, months, maybe even years but you have to believe me that I’m doing it for her,” he says trying to make Mia understand.

“If there was another way, I’d do it, but after today my world turned dangerous. There are too many people after the company. Money makes people do crazy things and I don’t want her anywhere near it. Y/n has to be protected at all costs. I have to handle this on my own.”

Mia exhaled loudly, trying to gather her thoughts as her hand lands on her forehead.

“I love her more than anyone Mia. I do. You have to believe that I’m doing this in her best interest.”

Mia just shakes her head, swallowing harshly before she makes eye contact again.

“What about the guys.”

“They have each other, and y/n has you. You have to promise me you’ll be there for her.”

“Yeonjun...I-”

“Promise me.”

Mia sighs, defeated in a game she never even played. She closes her eyes, nodding at his request.

"Ok, I promise.”

Chapter 10

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