#sorry it took so long to post this one here

[bruhstories]

Bet II

p.1 here

summary: it's your first day as a cat sitter and things are going more than well. but will they stay that way? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan w/c: 2.2k

a/n: hiii, this is pretty much reader's pov, but don't worry, we'll see things through in-ho's eyes in chapter 3! if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post.

You woke up at five in the morning on the first day of your temporary job. It took you about fifteen minutes to walk to the bus stop, and another fifteen to get to Gangnam-gu by bus, but you needed to prepare breakfast for your uncle first. The last thing you wanted was to anger him. You washed a cup of rice and tossed it in the rice cooker before slicing some pickled radish and a fresh cucumber and carrot. While waiting for the rice to cook, you fried some tofu that you had marinated in gochujang the night before.

Around six you woke your uncle up with the bowl of bibimbap and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, but didn't stay long enough to hear him tell you off about how bad his coffee tasted, or how cold the rice was, all completely false statements. It was just the way your life was since your father passed away and your mother left the country. But you couldn't afford your own place, and you probably wouldn't any time soon, so you took odd jobs to stay away from him and pay his stupid debts.

You made it just in time for Eunjoo's breakfast, stepping through the door at 6:50. There was no cat in sight yet, but the moment you opened the food can, Eunjoo peeked from around the sofa, silently sneaking behind you, apprehensive about rubbing against your leg. She waited next to the water bowl as you scooped the food out and mashed it with the spoon, then bent down to place her plate on the silicone mat on the floor. 

It was only after you got back up that you noticed the mess in Mr. Hwang's penthouse. There were so many dishes in the sink, empty bottles of beer scattered on the dining table, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, takeaway boxes stacked on the countertop, a half-full coffee cup, tissues on the floor. You definitely remembered that his house was clean when you first visited him. Too clean, even, like he suffered from mysophobia. You had a lot to do in that house. And then there was Eunjoo, who, for some reason, refused to eat her breakfast despite sitting patiently next to her ceramic plate, tail curled around her paws.

Panic seeped into your veins as you urged the cat to eat, crouching next to her in hopes that she only needed a little encouragement, but Eunjoo stood her ground. You didn't know what to do, the mess was overwhelming and you frantically paced around the kitchen like a headless hen, not knowing what to do first — wash the dishes, take out the trash, force feed the cat. As though Mr. Hwang could see you, your phone vibrated with a text from him.

Good morning. Sorry about the mess, I had a little gathering last night before my trip. Is everything alright? In-ho 

A little gathering? He had a full-blown party! Maybe it was his birthday, or he had a bachelor party. But the mess wasn't important, Eunjoo was. You quickly saved his number in your contacts list and typed a reply.

Morning! Don't worry about the mess, I'll deal with it later. Eunjoo's not eating, though. Should I take her to the vet? She seems healthy, but I’m worrying.

You waited for his text while sitting on the floor, one hand extended for the cat to sniff it. She did, then went back to her plate, simply looking at you, staring directly into your soul with bright green eyes.

Ding!

Oh, I forgot to mention that she only eats breakfast and dinner when I do. You're going to have to eat something. There's plenty of food in the fridge. 

Well, that changed things. You typically had one meal a day since most of the food back home was eaten by your uncle, and you didn't want to pry into Mr. Hwang's fridge and pantry. Rummaging through your backpack, you found a half-eaten bag of shrimp crackers and shrugged. It was good enough for you if it meant she ate.

"My food." You told Eunjoo while holding the bag, giving it a small shake. "Your food." You pointed at her plate.

As if she could understand your words, Eunjoo turned to her breakfast while you munched on the crackers, nibbling on them slowly to save some for later. God only knew when you could have some more food. When her plate was empty, you twisted the bag of remaining snacks and put it back into your backpack before getting up from the tiled floor. 

"Okay." You told yourself. "First thing's first — scoop the poop."

There were two litter boxes in the penthouse, one in the guest bathroom and one in the en-suite. You checked both without paying much attention to your surroundings, and threw away all the clumps of pee and litter, then turned the TV on to play some music. You started off strong with some upbeat songs, a little rock, a bit of pop. Your father raised you on international music. Queen, in particular, was his favourite band, and so your playlist was full of their songs.

Don't Stop Me Now was perfect for doing the dishes. First, you put away all the dry plates and cutlery before emptying the sink. You didn't even bother trying to turn on the dishwasher, your hands worked better and faster, and with the speed of light, like Freddie Mercury sang, you finished washing all the dishes. Each time you rinsed a plate, you turned the tap off, careful not to waste any water. If there was one good thing about not being rich, it was that you learned to truly care about the environment, and tried your best to fight climate change. But you weren’t perfect. No one was. There were skeletons in your closet.

As the song came to an end, you tackled the takeaway boxes. You found the bin and threw away any leftover bits of food that were inedible, saving the cardboard boxes for recycling, along with the beer bottles. The penthouse was looking better by the minute, and after wiping the table and countertop, vacuuming and mopping the floor, you took your phone out and snapped a picture for Mr. Hwang. 

Kitchen and dining room done!

You pressed send and checked the time — 9:00. Shit, your other job was starting soon. Hastily, you turned the TV off, rinsed Eunjoo's water bowl and filled it with fresh water before checking the automatic feeder. It was still half-full, so you put your shoes on and left with the recyclables and trash bag.

"I'll be back tonight, kitty!"

The bin room was easy to find, and satisfied with the work you did, you went back to Guryong Village, where you taught Ali Abdul and his wife Korean. They couldn't afford to pay you, but when they could, they fed you, and that was all that mattered. It was the only meal you didn't need to share with your uncle, and it was more than enough to keep you going through the day. 

At 12:00 you took two buses to Lotte World, where you worked part-time as a mascot, from one to seven, boiling in the purple bear suit. You didn't mind it when you saw how happy the children were, though. Their smiles and happiness mattered more than how uncomfortable you felt, and on the bright side, it kept you very warm in winter. You had to look for positives, didn't you? Life wouldn't be enjoyable if all you did was focus on the negativity and unfairness of it. And life had been nothing but cruel to you. Yet, you persevered. 

You left the theme park at 7:15 and took the bus back to Gangnam-gu, drenched in sweat. The cold November air made you shiver under the coat as you stepped down the street, making your way to Mr. Hwang's penthouse for the second time that day. Kicking your shoes off, you kept the coat, because the apartment was chilly, and you tried to find the thermostat before feeding Eunjoo. 

Good evening! I hope your trip is going well! It's getting quite cold and I was wondering if I could turn the heating on, more for Eunjoo than for me. 

When there was no reply, you shrugged and opened a can of food, placing the plate on the mat, like you did in the morning, then took out a food container from your bag with leftover chicken karahi from Mrs. Abdul. She was kind enough to give you more, and you took out a plate from Mr. Hwang's kitchen to heat it in the microwave.

Eunjoo ate when you did, as she did in the morning, and you found it interesting that she didn't immediately dig in like your cousin's cat used to do. She had good manners, you thought with a smile. The food warmed you up a bit, and you washed the plate and chopsticks after you were done, but the warmth was soon replaced by a chill running down your spine. You had to start layering up for winter.

Ding!

Good evening, miss. My apologies for not replying quicker, work is hectic. Please turn the heating on and stay the night to make sure Eunjoo is warm.

Oh, that was straightforward. You chuckled at the text, but you couldn't stay the night. Instead, you walked back to the thermostat and searched the brand online to set a timer. You tested it first to make sure it worked, and when it did, you set the heating on every 3 hours. It should be enough for Eunjoo to stay warm. 

I appreciate it, sir, but I can't stay over. My uncle would be upset. I put the timer on and it works, I checked. I'll send you a picture after I scoop the poop and tidy up.

You sent the text and inspected the litter boxes. Eunjoo had the stinkiest poops you had ever sniffed, and as you scooped it out of the box, you couldn't help but talk to her. She was watching you from the corner of the guest bathroom, pupils blown at every movement you made, studying you.

"Girl, this is foul." You laughed, tying up the small bin bag. "Is it even normal for your shit to reek like this?" 

Eunjoo lost interest in you when you were done with her box and ran under the bed in Mr. Hwang's bedroom, while you walked back into the kitchen, dropping the bin bag next to your shoes. You filled a tall glass with water and searched for all the plants in the house, stopping at a small cactus in the living room.

When was the last time you watered the cactus?

Ding!

You got the reply quicker than you expected. It usually took In-ho a few minutes to get back to you, but you read it and laughed.

I don't remember. 

Typical for men to forget, you thought as you watered the plant. 

Ding!

Another text? You took your phone out and read it.

Why would your uncle be upset?

The question soured your mood, and you took a few steps back to sit on the edge of the sofa. It wasn't a subject you liked to talk about. In fact, it was a subject you refused to talk about, but Mr. Hwang had been nothing but kind to you, and you felt like you owed him an explanation. No, you felt compelled to give him an explanation, as though you couldn’t just tell him to mind his business.

He took me in after my dad died. He can be quite strict. It's not that I have to go back home, but if he doesn't have breakfast and a coffee when he wakes up, he'll tell me off.

Okay, so you didn't exactly explain your situation. Mr. Hwang didn't need to know all the details, all the beatings and all the insults, all the money he took from you to pay his debts. But hey, at least you had a roof over your head, right?

You washed Eunjoo's plate and water bowl and left them to dry while sorting out In-ho's laundry — whites with whites, blacks with blacks. There weren’t many colourful clothes, which you thought was normal for a man his age.  You were going to wash them in the morning, but you worked smart and hard, and so you wanted them to be ready for the next day. Loading the machine with the whites, you made sure Eunjoo didn't sneak in it and closed the door, then took a shower in the guest bathroom. 

Just as you promised, you brought your own soap and towel, and let the hot water wash away the dirt and dust accumulated throughout the day. It felt good not having to boil water to wash yourself, and you made a mental note to thank Mr. Hwang somehow when he returned from his trip. Perhaps you could cook him a meal and buy a new toy for Eunjoo, although she didn’t seem very playful, at least not when you were around. Stepping out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, you took a moment to enjoy being able to walk around half-naked with no one to disturb you. 

Thank you for letting me take a shower. Eunjoo is sleeping, the plants have been watered, and I’m ready to go home. Good night, Mr. Hwang!

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @nomugglesallowed @awekbachira @hobiesbrowngf @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair

i hope i didn't miss anyone or tagged the wrong people lmaooo

[tanadrin]

Sorry about the long ask, but what do you think about this claim: i often see marxists (and adjacent groups, blah blah) say that the united states (empire) is about to collapse or is gradually declining, something along those lines, and specifically with regard to its economy, military and ideology. For example, i was watching a video hosting Richard Wolff, and he claimed that the united states is being replaced by china as the global superpower; he compares the situation to the historical rise of the united states relative to the british empire that slowly took place in the 19th and 20th centuries. I think his comparison is slightly flawed (imo hes comparing apples to oranges here), but in the broad strokes he might be right? I also remember seeing a pretty respectable maoist on here claim the us military is failing. Idk, i would like to hear your take

This answer got real long, so I added a cut. The short version is "people who say things like this are living in a fantasy land, and you can safely ignore their opinions on anything else as a result."

The United States is not the USSR in 1990 or Somalia in 1994 or Rome in the fifth century, or anything similar. Failed states are absolutely a thing, and they're fascinating (and often quite depressing!) historical case studies, and the United States looks nothing like a failed state. It's not even about to collapse in the sense of "suffer a prolonged period of sharp economic decline that forces it to drastically reduce its presence in the wider world and curtails its power in influence." It's not even about to collapse in the sense of "experience significant regime change." The U.S. economy is, overall, doing quite well. There is no significant popular unrest. There is no elite appetite for revolution. There are not competing centers of power that would rather see the status quo burned to the ground than their rivals get power. You might want the U.S. to collapse, and you might not, but the idea it is about to is pure fantasy.

I think before we get to any other specific claims about the United States' position relative to other countries, it's important to note that claims of impending American collapse are, like claims of impending civilizational collapse or Paul Ehrlich's claim of worldwide hunger or breathless claims that the war in Ukraine is going to escalate into WW3 any day now, IMO affective claims about how the speaker feels about the world: there is a certain class of person who, whether out of nihilistic glee, hope of revolutionary change, or simply untrammeled anxiety sees the signs of collapse all around them, Doom-Is-Nigh streetcorner prophets who are emotionally invested in the idea of collapse, for whom the idea of collapse would often justify some pillar of their politics. If, after all, the US is a failed state about to be toppled by its own decadence, this would justify their inordinate degree of contempt for the US.

On another recent post someone phrased claims like this as often being more about "what would be necessary for someone's politics to be justified," and I think that's an important part of it! In fact I think "affective claims about the world being distorted into factual claims about the world bc they are what would be necessary to justify someone's politics" is a fully general phenomenon, regardless of political orientation. There are much milder forms of it than out-and-out doomerism, though of course the absurdity of doomerist claims to this degree make it really hard to take someone's claims about the state of the world seriously.

About the specific claims here:

Re: China: China has experienced terrific growth since the end of WW2, and that's great! A country of over a billion people should by any reasonable metric be one of the largest economies on Earth, and China is, it seems, taking its inevitable place internationally as an economic powerhouse. It's a big country with a ton of people, and it's terrific that it has been able to lift so many people out of the grinding poverty that prevailed throughout much of the country in the 20th century. But like a lot of middle-income countries it seems to be having a ton of trouble, for significant institutional reasons, transitioning from an industrialization-focused economy to one driven by consumer demand and consumer spending. AIUI (and I am so, so far from an expert; mostly I just read what folks like @argumate post from other sources), China has a lot of debt dragging down its economy, and weak consumer demand. China is still much poorer than the United States on a per capita basis, and though it has a large military, is much less capable of projecting its power beyond its borders. It has aspired to increase its economic and diplomatic influence through the Belt and Road initiative, but returns on this project have been decidedly mixed, and China's military and strategic focus remains decidedly confined to its neighborhood. It wants to absorb Taiwan and protect its interests in the South China Sea, and prop up North Korea and such, but it's not able to or interested in, like, fielding large carrier groups that routinely sail up and down the world's oceans or conduct invasions of distant countries like the U.S. is able to. N.B., I'm not saying those invasions are good, just that the U.S. can historically, if it wants, invade and occupy basically any small-to-medium sized country on the planet in a few weeks, and that's not the kind of capability China has, or--AFAICT--is interested in developing.

The British Empire comparison is also, I think, very misleading, and gets at something I find frustrating about a lot of modern Marxists: they want to fit everything into the model of 19th century capitalist imperialism, when the modern global system doesn't look too much like that anymore. Mostly countries like the United States, if they have economic interests in a country, don't invade and reduce the country to a status of colony to extract raw resources from. The Cold War supported a fair bit of regime change in the service of commercial interests, even in the aftermath of post-WW2 decolonization, but nowadays the tools used to develop and enforce the international order preferred by the Status Quo Coalition (which is led, but not commanded by the United States) are much more indirect. They don't involve directly administering colonies, which is significant because colonialism is, for the states that run it, expensive as hell. Sure, it's great for commercial interests--but it's often more a drain on state finances than anything else. I have come around to the view that colonialism was as much an expression of wealth as it was a means to acquire more. Britain was always a small-but-wealthy island country whose empire was much, much larger than its metropole. The vast majority of the population and wealth controlled by the United States is within the fifty states which comprise the core territory of the United States. This isn't Britain with a far-flung overseas empire which is expensive to administer and a minority of Britons on the island itself--this is a country whose wealth and industry is built on a population of 350 million or so which identifies as American first, which speaks English and votes for President and congress. Most of the United States' actual imperial possessions are tiny archipelagoes these days that are economically marginal, or else military bases overseas--these do not generate American wealth and power, they are expressions of it. For the United States to collapse like the British Empire did, it would have to lose control of California and Texas and the Midwest or something like that--which is a goofy-ass fantasy, because if the United States federal government disappeared tomorrow, I think the vast majority of the 350 million or so people living in the present borders of the United States would support re-establishing the United States federal government. Americans like and support the country they live in! This is very different from the subjects of the British Raj, or even the people of Australia and Canada, who had begun to develop their own identity (and thanks to distance from the metropole, completely divergent economic and political interests).

"The U.S. is an empire analogous Britain" is only true if you squint from very far away and don't care about the specifics of history, economics, or politics. But I think again the way to understand this claim is partly affective. If the U.S. really is the second incarnation of the British Empire, then you can cast a lot of disparate conflicts that otherwise don't fit the mold under the aegis of a broad anti-colonial struggle. It also facilitates a certain sort of base campism that some people love to indulge in--the NATO-is-always-evil-so-anything-NATO-doesn't-like-is-good angle, which has a lot of self-described leftists backing in to saying that Putin's Russia is somehow an antifascist or anticolonial force for good in the world.

"The U.S. military is failing" is pure cope. There's no country or active coalition of countries that's even remotely close to the U.S. military in capabilities. Though there is always going to be a stream of waste and corruption and medium-sized bureaucratic fuckups streaming out of the U.S. military, it remains without peer simply by virtue of one of the largest economies on the planet being willing to spend like 4% of its GDP on military stuff. The EU or China might in some counterfactual world be able to field a similar military if they spent a comparable amount, and had similar strategic aims, but they won't and they don't, so unless U.S. foreign policy drastically changes and military spending is slashed as a result, I don't see that changing at any time in the near future.

[inktopuck]

miss honey | jack hughes social media au (pt.6)

pt. 5

yournamelastname

Liked by jackhughes, l_hughes06 and others

yournamelastname winter break with mom after getting snowed in the first couple of days!

l_hughes06 with bear !!!

_quinnhughes and jack, apparently??

trevorzegras what??????

yournamelastname thank god for bear and his fluffiness

_quinnhughes yeah and jack's, right?

trevorzegras WHAAAAT???

elblue06 you two are so stunning!!! my favorite girls!!

yournamelastname i need you guys to include me in your outings from now on please i am sick of the boys

elblue06 you say that as if you're not their little leader, shortcake 😉 always were always will be!!

jackhughes oh those diaries!!

yournamelastname shh!

jackhughes

Liked by yournamelastname, jesperbratt and others

jackhughes happy holidays everyone!

yournamelastname quinn looks a little bit different on that first one but still ate you two up

jackhughes i was going to say something...

yournamelastname keep quiet

jackhughes hey i thought you weren't going to be mean to me anymore

yournamelastname i made no promises

trevorzegras what is going on here

l_hughes06 i'm thinking a lot of thoughts

colecaufield saved by the power of friendship

yournamehughes well jack actually

colecaufield this is weird, this is suspicious

yournamelastname

Liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes and others

yournamelastname rewatched matilda so now i'm leaning into the tz nickname

trevorzegras you're welcome, miss honey!

jackhughes you're kinda not that bad to look at sometimes

yournamelastname can you give any straight compliments or

l_hughes06 he used the word beautiful when he was on the phone with you yesterday

jackhughes dude

colecaufield context my man.......

_quinnhughes someone finally stole those awful overalls from trevor

jackhughes what now

yournamelastname i found them at the lake house how would i know they were his

_quinnhughes were there zyns in the pockets

yournamelastname .... yes

elblue06 🔒

Liked by yournamelastname, jackhughes and others

elblue06 my handsome boys

l_hughes06 gee ma thanks

elblue06 you didn't show up for our facetime so

trevorzegras no luke 😢 don't worry buddy, you're MY handsome boy

colecaufield i thought he was mine only??

_alexturcotte petition for jack to shave that awful goatee wannabe thing off

Liked by yournamelastname, _quinnhughes, colecaufield, elblue06

bradytkachuk call me quinnyyy 🔥🔥

yournamelastname 😍

elblue06 shortcake? you okay?

l_hughes06 i think this was a typo

_quinnhughes she was hacked

jackhughes 😏

a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long and it's not that good i've been going through writers block and it's soooo frustrating!! hope i can go back to posting regularly soon!!

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 9

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.

It felt like forever. He knew it wasn't. It must have been minutes until the car door was ripped open and Charles slipped in right next to him.

It wasn’t until the doors were slammed shut behind Charles that Max dared to look at the Monégasque.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Charles was still in his racing suit just as him, the suit itself streaked with sweat.

The moment the car door closed, the car started riving.

"Merde," Charles cursed. Max could only agree. "I am sorry, that it took this long."

Max gave a sharp, jerky shake of his head. "You don’t have to apologize," he somehow managed to get the words out. "I’m just..." he trailed off, a shaky exhale escaping him. "How could you make it here so fast?" he asked, casting a quick glance in his friend’s direction.

Charles snorted. "Your press officer had a shouting match with Ferrari's,“ he said simply.

If Max wasn’t so focused on not completely losing it, he might’ve been amused with the mental image. But at the moment, he could only shake his head.

Next to him, Charles let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"No. You?" he gave back.

"I don't have a bad feeling," Charles said quietly. “Not worse than it has been for days at least.”

Twin Telepathy was apparently a thing as far as Charles and Colette were concerned. 

Quite frankly, till this day, it still weirded Max out. They just seemed to know when the other one wasn't feeling well. 95% of the time, they got sick at the same time. They communicated more easily with each other than with anyone else, and regardless of what game they played...they needed to be put on opposite teams, because otherwise nobody had a chance against them.

Max was well aware of Colette and Charles' strange connection. Even if he didn’t fully understand it. They both had some sort of sixth sense when it came to the other one, and it sometimes felt like they were talking in secret code.

"What’s it telling you right now?" he asked, his voice barely above a rough whisper.

Charles turned to him fully at that, and Max saw the way his eyes swept over him, taking in every aspect of his appearance.

Max could only imagine what Charles was seeing. He felt like a walking wreck, and there was no doubt his appearance was mirroring that.

"Colette is in pain," Charles finally said, his voice strangely quiet. "She’s scared."

That answer felt like somebody shoved a knife into Max’s stomach. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his throat. “Of course, she is,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Charles seemed to sense what he was thinking, even without being telepathically connected through whatever the hell Colette and him had going on. The Monégasque reached out and took a firmer hold of his hand, the grip almost crushing.

"Don’t," Charles said firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "Don’t go there. We’re gonna get to her as fast as we can."

There was a brief moment of silence, as Max tried to collect himself. He focused all his attention on the pressure of Charles' hand on his, and somehow, it actually helped.

"I feel so goddamn useless," he finally admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to be with her."

"You want to try calling her before we are in the air?" Charles suggested.

That was not a bad idea, not at all. Max let out a low and slightly shaky exhale, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I…” he had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah, I’ll try to call her.”

His hands were shaking when he pulled out his phone out of the backpack that somebody had handed off to him, already packed. Regardless of all the drama that had gone on in the RedBull garage during the year… if it really mattered, the people in there pulled off minor miracles.

Within minutes, his entire day - hell, his entire week - had been packed for him, with all the essentials of clothes and everything else he would need.

He had almost forgotten about the phone in his shaking hands, but now he just stared at the screen for a moment. His fingers were trembling so badly that just unlocking the phone was a challenge in itself.

Jimmy and Sassy were on his lockscreen...a picture that Colette had once sent him when he had been away for one of his races...the two of them laying on top of her on their couch...

Every other time Max saw the photo, it made his heart do a little funny jump. Now though, it made his chest ache. It felt like a sharp stabbing pain, and for a moment, he just sat there and stared at the picture.

Then he called her.

It rang. And it rang, and it rang again. With each passing second, that horrible knot in his stomach tightened a little more. With every ring of the bell, it got harder to breathe.

Finally, to Max’s immense and enormous relief, the line connected.

"Hey, Maxie. I put you on speaker," Victoria's voice came over the phone, sounding surprisingly calm.

A shiver of something resembling dread ran through Max, at the sound of Victoria’s voice. But he pushed past the feeling.

His thoughts were once again running wild - was it a bad sign that Colette wasn’t the one speaking to him? Or was he just overreacting..?

“Hey,” he forced the word out past the lump in his throat. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pleading for Colette's voice. Was it selfish that he just wanted to hear her tell him that everything was going to be okay?

"Better now," Colette's voice came, sounding slightly hoarse.

The words were like a shot of adrenaline, and for a moment, Max actually felt a little lightheaded. “Liefje.” He closed his eyes, just hearing her voice sending another wave of relief through him. “Are you okay? How is Bébé?”

"Bébé has decided that they would rather be born today, so I would suggest you hurry up," Victoria said drily.

"Seems like the kid already inherited Max's need for speed," Charles quipped. "How are you doing, Coco?"

"I'm good," Colette's voice replied, and Max could only imagine the eye-roll that was currently happening. He knew his girlfriend, and he had no doubt that she had been glaring at Victoria ever since the phone was put on speaker.

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice suddenly turning much softer. "You're coming, right?"

"Coming," he assured her, his heart aching. "We're coming, I promise."

"I know. I’m not worried." She sounded like she meant it, but Max could easily imagine the anxiety in her eyes.

"You'd better not worry," Charles said, and then added, "I’m keeping him from doing anything dumb."

Max shot Charles a dirty look at that, bt he swallowed down the annoyed protest and focused back on Colette instead. “Just…hold on a little longer, okay?”

"It's not like I can go anywhere else," Colette replied, her voice slightly amused. "I’ll keep our little speed demon in there a little lo...." She broke off and let out a quiet hiss of pain, her voice once again cut off by what Max suspected to be a particularly painful contraction.

“Colette,” he said sharply, all kinds of emotions washing over him, one by one. “Liefje, just…just breathe through it, okay?”

There was a second of panting, then, he heard her take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she finally said. “Just…hurts like hell.”

He swallowed and clenched his free hand tightly into a fist, fighting against the urge to just jump out of the car and start running towards the airport.

Colette being in pain was not something he could deal with.

He heard her take a few more deep breaths, and he just sat there, waiting and listening and feeling absolutely useless.

"How long until you get here?" she asked after a moment, her voice breathless. He could see her in his mind, his sweet girl, sitting on the bed and clutching her belly as another contraction hit her.

"We're not even at the airport yet," he told her, and damn it, why were his eyes suddenly burning. "We’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? Just...hold on a little longer."

"What your dad said..." Colette said with a shaky voice.

"I know," he said simply, the grief raw in his voice. Neither of them were ever really going to get over the two babies they had lost. They had learnt to live with the pain, they had dealt with the heartbreak an grief...but it was always going to be scar for them.

"Max, if something…" she began, her voice a little wobbly. He could tell that she was crying, by the way her breathing got a little more hitched and ragged.

But she suddenly cut off and gasped, letting out an even breath. Another contraction..."Hey, nothing is gonna happen," he quickly said, trying to soothe her. "Nothing. I'll be there soon. I'll be there before you know, and our child will meet their parents. We will be fine, we will get through this. You, and me. Together."

"If something happens," Colette continues. "If..."

"No," he cut her off, the word coming out as a growl. "Nothing is gonna happen. You will not talk that way. You’re going to deliver a gorgeous and healthy baby, and I won’t hear anything else."

"Max..." she protested, but Max wasn’t having it.

"You’re not going anywhere," he said firmly, putting as much steel in his voice as he could. "You will be fine. Our baby will be fine, and I will be there soon and I will hold your hand and you can threaten to geld me and all of it will be okay. Just breathe.” 

He could hear the sound of her breathing, deep and even. She was trying to steady it, and Max gripped his phone tighter. He didn’t know if he was trying to hold himself together, or if he was trying to hold on to the sound of her voice.

The seconds ticked by, and then another contraction hit, and he heard her gasp out another ragged breath. Max felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. The idea of her in pain was like an invisible knife twisting a little deeper in his gut, each time.

"We need to go," Charles said suddenly. "We need to get into the plane." The car slowed down at that moment. "Coco, listen to me. I am going to be absolutely fucking furious with you if something happens to you," Charles told her fiercely. 

"Trust me," Colette’s voice said, sounding slightly tired. "I am very, very motivated to stay alive."

That was good. That was a good sign. If she was still being sarcastic and even a little bit cheeky…it was good.

"Just hold on," he told her again, the familiar feeling of helplessness seeping into his bones. "Just keep hanging on, for me. I love you."

“I love you too,” the words were as immediate and as fast as the sunrise each morning. "Hurry up, dammit."

"I’m trying," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m trying. We’re at the airport now. We’ll get there as fast as we can-" he had to stop, when he heard her let out another pained gasping sound, as another contraction clearly hit her hard.

“Goddamn,” he exclaimed, all of his muscles tense with the urge to do something. He wanted to help her, he wanted to be there to comfort her…but more than anything,  he was terrified of losing her. "Liefje, just keep breathing, okay? Breathe and stay calm."

"I’m trying to," her voice was breathless, and he knew that she was probably trying hard to fight the urge to cry out. Oh God, he hated that. He hated seeing her in pain, he loathed feeling this utterly useless.

"Go. Love you," she told him.

"I love you," he told her emphatically, wanting to say something more, but then Charles impatiently gestured at him to hurry up and get out of the car. "I...I’ll see you soon, okay? Just hang on, okay?"

"Yeah," he could tell that she was trying even harder to control her voice, trying to put on a calm and steady front for his benefit. "Just..." she cut off and let out a gasp, another contraction evidently hitting her hard. "...just hurry up before this baby decides to make their way out before you arrive, okay?"

"I will," he promised through gritted teeth. "I will, goddammit, I will, just…hang on."

He heard Colette’s pained panting, and each of her breaths was like a stab in the gut.He hated having to hang up on her

Everything in him rebelled at that. How could he, how could he possibly abandon her like that, how could he let her take on this pain and fear all by herself, without him there to hold her hand...but goddamnit, he had no choice.

He took a shuddering breath and pushed past the urge to scream, to slam his fist into something, anything. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from the desperate need to get to her, to overwhelming panic, to anger at the universe for forcing them apart and for putting her through this pain.

Into the plane they went…it was probably the shortest amount of time between entering a plane and taking off Max had ever experienced. 

Before too long they were up in the air, flying towards Nice.

The minutes ticked by, each one passing by like a century. Max would sit in restless agitation at his seat, his mind racing back and forth. Every thought and memory came back to Colette. He just wanted to be at her side, he just wanted everything to be okay…

And instead he would be stuck on this plane for 6 hours.

He would be stuck on this goddamn plane for six hours. Six hours, each one of them filled with the knowledge that the love of his life was giving birth to their child, and he was not there to support her, to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was okay.

It was driving him absolutely insane. He couldn’t take it, he just wanted to be there, with her. He could vividly picture her, sitting in the hospital bed and gripping the rails, her face screwed up in pain as she fought through another contraction. And he was not there to comfort her.

"Maman is with her. Your sister is with her. Lorenzo and Arthur too." Charles said at that moment. “We aren't there but everybody else is."

"How can you be this calm?" Max asked him, dragging a hand through sweat damp hair.

"Don't mistake calm for not being worried," Charles said evenly, his eyes tracking Max's restless pacing of the plane. "I am worried. For her, for you and for the little one. But freaking out isn't gonna do anyone any favours right now."

"I know,” Max said, his voice still strangled tight with stress. He just couldn't get any of the images out of his mind - her struggling and fighting her way through the pain, looking more vulnerable and pale than he had ever seen her...and he was not there.

“Besides, I shouted at Ferrari’s PR and got it out of my system, so currently, I am feeling quite calm.” Charles said darkly. “I imagine that’s going to change again when I am sure that Colette and the baby are alright.”

Max just stared at him. Charles had done what?

If there was a religion that Charles Leclerc believed in then it was Ferrari.

Charles Leclerc was their golden boy. Their Il Predestinato. There was no good-natured fobbing to be had about Ferrari regardless of what issues there had been had through the years, and there had been a lot.

Charles worshipped Ferrari like a malevolent goddess. He didn’t want to hear any criticism of his team and Max had given up on that a very long time ago. 

Charles and Colette both could be the most stubborn people Max had ever match. The only one who could match their stubbornness were each other. 

"You did what?" Max stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Charles was an absolute Ferrari fan and loyal to the very core…why the hell would he yell at the PR people?

"Why...? What did they do?"

"They weren't even going to tell me that something was wrong with Colette," Charles said darkly. "I knew it. I knew that something was off. But they didn't say anything. It was one of Red Bull's PR Staff that got me out of the cooldown room. Ferrari wouldn't have said anything to me. Ferrari didn't want me to leave either. They wanted to debrief, they wanted me to give interviews,"

Max had to resist the urge to swear. He had been so focused on the fact that he was not with Colette that he hadn't even processed the fact that Ferrari had actually kept her labour a secret from Charles, simply to make him stay and do his goddamn job for them.

"You know that that is not normal, right?" he asked him drily. "I am not telling you that everything is perfect at Red Bull but Christian would never fucking stand for that."

"You know I never expected it," Charles told him, his mouth a thin hard line. "We are the drivers. We are the stars. But we come second. First and foremost, we are assets to the team. What Ferrari wants, Ferrari gets. We drive, we get podiums, we hold the trophies, and we smile for the cameras. Everything else comes second. It doesn’t matter to them. To them, only the trophies matter. "

"That's what they want," Max told him, anger seeping into his voice. "But that's not how it should be. Ferrari is wrong. If something is wrong with your loved ones, they have no right to keep it from you like that. Especially not for the sake of a goddamn interview."

"I know," Charles said, his lips thin with bitterness. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there? We may be the top drivers on the grid, but we drive the car that the teams give us. There's only so much that we can do when the team has power over pretty much every aspect of our career. And believe me, I am going to pay a fucking price for doing what I did. I just don't care at all. It's Colette," he said sharply. "I love all my siblings. I do. I love Lorenzo and Arthur. I would do everything for them. But they aren't my twin. They aren't the second half of me," Charles said simply. "Ferrari be damned."

Max hadn't thought that he was ever going to hear these words out of Charles' mouth but here they were.

"What the fuck did Jos say by the way? What did Coco mean?" Charles demanded.

"He gave an interview to Sky Sports," Max said, fury still embering deep in his gut.

"Of course he did." Charles said, not sounding surprised at all. "What did he say?"

"Confirmed the relationship...and the pregnancy," Max said clenching his teeth. "And if that wasn't enough...he made a...comment about how it had taken us long enough to have a baby."

There was a sharp indrawn breath as Charles absorbed that. "...What?" Charles said after a moment, his voice strangled. "...he made that comment in public? Are - are you serious?"

"I never told him about the two...miscarriages," Max said quietly. "I couldn't deal with whatever well meant advice he was going to have...but I...We lost two babies," Max said weakly. "My father went out there and confirmed our relationship and the pregnancy without talking to either of us. He just made that decision because it's "ridiculous" that we kept it a secret for so long. An it’s making me furious. This wasn't his decision to make. This was ours."

"Yes," Charles said, his jaw clenching. "It was. Your decision. Nobody else’s. He had absolutely no right to do that. Goddamn it, I have never liked that man, but I've never had the urge to punch him as much as I do this very moment."

"You and me both," Max said. The anger he was feeling would have been burning through him like a damn inferno if he hadn't been so worried about Colette.

"This should have come from us," Max repeated quietly. "Not from anybody else."

"It still can come from you," Charles said.

Max paused, looking up at him. "Are you saying we should..." he began uncertainly.

"You want to tell the entire world that you love my sister and that she is having your baby? You have an Instagram account and a phone with an internet connection," Charles said drily. "Tell them the truth. Your truth."

Max opened his mouth and then closed it again. Charles had a point. It was obvious what the news was going to be now if people had seen Jos's interview.

But he wanted to be the one to tell the world. He wanted it to be on his terms. He wanted it to be public but on his public terms. Not his father's.

"Are you ever going to ask my sister to marry you?" Charles asked him suddenly.

The question caught him completely off guard. "...What?" He said blankly, stunned by the change of the conversation.

"You gave her a ring when you were both 18 that you both insisted was only a promise ring," Charles said drily. "Are you ever going to replace it with the real thing?"

He thought back to that ring that still sat on Colette's finger to this day. A simply gold band with a tiny heart-shaped diamond.

He had given it to her in 2016, after his very first Grand Prix win in Spain. He had gone out and bought it that very same day to be exact.

He had bought Victoira a handbag the first time he had scored his championship points...but the first time he had won...he had bought Colette that ring.

"Apparently the baby is only going to have your surname too, because you have an agreement," Charles continued. "Do I actually want to know what that agreement was?"

"We were 18. Both our father's would have probably killed us, if we came to them and told them that we were engaged," Max said with a sigh. The Leclerc's had always been supportive of their relationship but Hervè Leclerc had very much thought that both Colette and him were far too young to get married. 

Jos on the other hand...Max didn't even want to imagine that screaming fit.  "So I gave her that ring and we agreed that..."

"You agreed that..." Charles repeated slowly, silently urging him to continue.

Max let out a deep sigh and dragged a hand through his already messy hair, mussing it up even more. "We agreed that we didn't really need a piece of paper to tell us what we already knew," he said simply. "Colette and I had been together for 6 years at that point, we already knew and accepted that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. It was just a matter of when. So we decided that we didn't need a damn piece of paper to know that we were committed to each other. We already knew that, without a doubt," Max said simply. "It was a promise ring. To love and to cherish, till death us do part. One day we would do it properly, but till then...that ring was a promise."

Charles stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You have been married to my sister for 10 years?" he asked him sharply.

Max winced. Okay. Put like that, it sounded kinda bad. "We never had the actual wedding," he said sheepishly. "We both know it wasn't necessary for us, so...we kinda just...never got around to it."

"I mean, I did ask your father for her hand in marriage when it was clear that he wasn't going to be there...when we eventually did it properly...but...for us that ring was… It was more than enough," Max said quietly. "I knew damn well that I would be with her for the rest of my life. She knew it. We both knew it. And that ring was a symbol between us that sealed the deal. We both knew that it was going to be for forever and always. It was a promise. A promise to always stay by each other’s side. No matter how badly things fell apart around us. No matter how much the world wanted to tear us to apart. We were going to stay together, come hell or high water. We didn't need a paper to prove that to us or the rest of the world," Max said firmly.

Charles stared at him for a couple of long moments, processing this. Max was well aware that, from an outside perspective, it might sound weird. That they had been so young, but so utterly certain that they were going to spend their lives together.

But he and Colette had been together for years. And he had seen how strongly they had bonded over the years, seen what they had been able to deal with as a team, as one, and how they had come through every single thing that the life had thrown at them together.

"You two are utterly ridiculous," Charles finally said drily. "You didn't get engaged because as far as you two were concerned you already got married years ago."

Max winced a little bit and couldn't really refute it. If he were to be honest, he'd have admit it did sound utterly ridiculous, when Charles spelled it out like that.

But that just...that was how badly they had known right from the very beginning that this was it for them. They didn't need a piece of paper to tell them what they already knew.

"I'll ask her properly," he promised Charles. "I already got the ring. But Colette doesn't want to overshadow Lorenzo and Charlotte and I knew that she wasn't going to want to have a big party while pregnant so I figured I would just wait."

Charles was slightly taken aback by his words, before he gave a small smile. "She'll definitely say yes, you know," he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling with affection.

Max smiled in return. His heart ached with the thought of her. "I hope so," he said quietly, feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. "I really, really hope so."

[jinwoosbabyboo]

*whisper screams* you're writing is amazing I always look forward to your posts thank you for feeding the lads brain rot!!! Could I please request (last minute lol) the lads reacting to mc who is pretty yarn crafty but refuses to make them a sweater because of the dreaded "boyfriend sweater curse" (when knitting/crocheting, or other yarn craft, making a sweater for your boyfriend after finishing it and giving it to him he soon breaks up with you X__x)

Sweater Weather

Your man wants you to knit him a sweater, but you'd rather cut the grass with scissors before you do that because of the dreaded 'Boyfriend Sweater Curse'. Anni's Note to Anon: *whisper screams* sorry I took so long with this request I hope you forgive me here's a token of my appreciation 🌹

Zayne

Finds you hand weaving a fluffy blanket

Zayne: Will I ever have something hand knit by you?

MC: What do you want?

Zayne: How about a sweater to keep me warm in my office?

Mc: Absolutely not

Zayne: Why?

Mc: That’s a one way ticket to a messy breakup I think not

Zayne: Why would we break up?

MC: It’s the dreaded sweater curse

Zayne: The sweater? Curse?

MC: Yes ... I knit you a sweater and you leave me ... I’m not doing it

Zayne: And you believe in this so called curse wholeheartedly?

MC: If you can believe in unicorns Dr Zayne I can believe in a curse

Zayne kisses your forehead and squishes your cheeks

Zayne: alright I’ll take your word for it

Rafayel

Rafayel: When does your dashing boyfriend get a sweater?

MC: You sick of me or something?

Rafayel: Whoooaaaa how did we get here?

MC: If I knit you a sweater you’ll leave me its the sweater curse

Rafayel: I promise I won’t

MC: No

Rafayel: Please

MC: No

Rafayel: If you don’t love me just say that

MC: If you want to break up with me just say that

Rafayel: Baby please im begging

MC: Well stop!

Rafayel: PLEASE

MC: NO

Rafayel: BABYYYY

MC: SHUT UP

Rafayel played Beyonce ‘Why Don’t You Love Me’ at full volume for the rest of the day. He still didn’t get that sweater though.

Xavier

Xavier: You’re very good at knitting

MC: Thank you baby

Xavier: Did you make this?

MC: Yea it’s a cropped sweater took me a while

Xavier: Could you make me a sweater?

MC: Hell no

Xavier: Why so much aggression?

MC: If I knit you a sweater we’ll have a nasty breakup

Xavier: ???

MC: Just trust me its the sweater curse

Xavier: Okay I trust you

MC: Thank you

Xavier: What about a pair of socks?

MC: …..I’ll think about it

Sylus

Sylus: Did you knit this?

MC: Yes isn’t it cute? It’s a cropped sweater but it has that loose off the shoulder fit

Sylus: You knit sweaters?

MC: Sometimes ... they take a while

Sylus: Make me one

MC: Can I get a please?

Sylus: Please sweetie

MC: No

Sylus: I said please

MC: and I said no if I knit you a sweater you’ll break up with me

Sylus: We’re married

MC: You’ll divorce me its the dreaded sweater curse

Sylus: ......And you believe in this so called curse?

MC: Yes

Sylus: You’re adorable

MC: It’s real!

Sylus: If you say so Princess

MC: *narrows eyes* you think im crazy don't you

Sylus: At least you're self aware

MC: *throws the knitting needle at him*

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

STAR TREK DIALOGUE ANALYSIS OVERVIEW

oh boy so i mentioned this project awhile back and after a long hiatus i'm finally done! (the irony that i wrote this and then took a second equally long hiatus but the point stands.)

i went through transcripts for TOS, TNG, DS9, Voyager, and Enterprise (thanks to chakoteya.net for those!) and calculated how many lines each main character has in each episode (and season & show as a whole), calculated means, looked at who had a lot of high & low line count episodes, made some graphs, and did some analysis on gender and race.

you can find my whole process & results on a spreadsheet here (it's a little messy. i'm sorry. if someone pays me i'll make it look nice and actually learn how to make good graphs in Google Sheets.) and i'll walk through some Big Results & reactions on this post here under a cut. just so this doesn't get too long, i'll breakdown each show, post my gender & race analysis, and a big list of every character with how much of a focus they get on separate posts. they'll all be tagged as "star trek dialogue analysis".

but first just a disclaimer – i do have professional experience doing data analysis but this is by no means a professional analysis and i'm sure there are plenty of mistakes because this was initially a small personal project that snowballed a little bit. if there are any Major Things you see that are wrong (i.e. i copy and pasted a totally wrong value somewhere) please reach out and i'll correct it if i can. also if anyone wants to use this data for anything, feel free but tag me because i'm curious!

see also: gender analysis // race analysis // tos breakdown // tng breakdown // ds9 breakdown // voyager breakdown // enterprise breakdown // who's the most/least used character?

all of the following graphs measure mean (average) lines of dialogue per episode, averaging all seasons (that they were a main character) together. please refer to the spreadsheet for more detailed information about exact numbers.

unsurprising results... this is the one Star Trek show that really never aspired to be an ensemble show. i was actually surprised by how few lines Spock and McCoy have in comparison to Kirk

also unsurprising that the two characters of color have the fewest lines per episodes in the 60s

Kirk had BY FAR the most lines of dialogue per episode out of all characters i've measured (115.20)

again unsurprising that Picard has more lines by such a wide margin

honestly fairly surprised by how few lines Data had (I thought he'd beat Riker by a decent margin) and was very surprised at how few lines Troi consistently has across the season. like i knew it wasn't many but dang... only 18 lines per episode on average.

and here we can see that ds9 really embraces being an ensemble show with everyone (sans Sisko, Ezri, & Jake) having around the same number of lines on average, probably the most equal overall of any Star Trek show.

Sisko obviously has the most lines as the lead and Jake the fewest because of irl work restrictions (and less kid-centric stories).

i was surprised with how many lines Ezri had but then again her entire character was compressed into a single season so it seems fair. (interestingly, Ezri has the most lines out of anyone in s7 (996), even beating Sisko (874))

despite having the most lines in DS9, Sisko has by far the least out of any main character/Captain of the shows i've measured.

Janeway has the highest average line count out of any 90s character and third highest of any character i measured (69.51)

and again, with the exception of Janeway, we see that Voyager tends to be more ensemble focused than TNG which surprised me a bit given how later seasons are often criticized for ignoring a lot of characters but i think the very ensemble heavy early seasons balance things out.

the characters also generally seem to have more lines on average than either TNG or DS9.

and oof... yeah Voyager was it for the ensemble style show

Archer has the second highest average line count (86.68) for the whole study after Kirk (115.20)

apparently the inception of Enterprise was to recreate the TOS style triumvirate and for better or worse they certainly did.

some overall fun stats –

there are 162,455 total lines of dialogue spoken by the main cast from TOS to Enterprise

somehow there's only a ten line difference between the amount of dialogue spoken in TNG (43,148) and DS9 (43,158)

the 5 characters with the most dialogue per episode in Berman era Trek: Archer (86.68), Janeway (69.51), Picard (69.37), Sisko (50.72), & Tucker (46.03). notably only one woman and one character of color (more on this in a gender & race analysis post)

not including kids, the 5 characters with the least dialogue in Berman era Trek are: Mayweather (13.39), Sato (15.99), Troi (18.11), Kes (18.18), & Neelix (19.68). notably including three women and two characters of color (again, more on this in a different post)

the character who has the most dialogue in a single length episode is Quark with 189 lines in Who Mourns For Morn?

[lucimaaie]

runaway ✧.* spiderwoman au

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - things in your relationship have changed since ellie got shot, some of them good. some of them you don’t talk about.

warnings - fluff mixed with angst, gets a lil suggestive but no smut as always, unspoken trope because plot, 3k word count, not proofread cuz i was too excited to post

playlist | spidey masterlist

Who or whatever was up in the sky, you prayed to it. Pleaded that every bad thing you'd ever done, every bad thing you'd even plan on doing would be forgiven all to save her. It made you look even more unstable to your father lingering outside the door, but you didn't care.

And whatever else you added worked. The constant beeping of the machine became the one thing grounding you to reality. You didn't get a wink of sleep, a crumb of food, or speak a word to the very curious, almost invasive police. All so you could see Ellie's eyes flutter open.

The first sound she let out was a tired, pained groan as she tried to sit up. "Are you crazy?" You blurted, rushing to her side to guide her back down. It was then that you seemed to realize she was awake, emerald eyes staring back up at you in confusion and a hint of fear. A loud gasp fell from your lips as your fingers traveled from her arms up to her face. "You're awake." You said, lip quivering in a failed attempt not to cry. "A-Are you hurting? Can we get some in here! She's awake!"

"Is that a question?" Ellie's voice was rough. Had she not been so grateful to be awake, laying her eyes on you it'd have come out with more snark. She was stubborn on trying to sit up just hours after surgery, pushing herself up on her fists.

"Are you making a joke right now?" You were more a mix of dumbfounded and relieved than annoyed right now. Lord knows you should be. Your girlfriend was fricking Spider-woman. That was a big thing.

"Now that you're crying? No, of course not." Ellie reached up to swipe your tears before they could fall off your face and onto the sheets. Her hand was ever so gentle in cupping your face. She swallowed as she took you in, not sure what to say to make this right.

None of this was right. She had unintentionally sprung everything on you when she landed at your window tonight. How long had it been, actually? Had she been out for days? What did they do to her? Ellie's mind was suddenly overcome with an overwhelming need for answers.

Her hand slipped down to rest on top of yours. She licked her chapped lips, brows furrowing. "Did they find me in—“

At the mention of the suit, you pulled away and wiped your face. “I hid it.” You said quietly. “I hid the suit and whatever..came out of you," The words tumbled out of your mouth as you were forced to think about the panic you felt just hours ago. The swirl of emotions sat deep in your stomach, threatening to rise up and come out in a way you couldn't control. So to stop it, you pulled away.

Ellie could sense it and it made her want to climb out of the bed just to hold you and apologize a million times over. Somehow that still felt inadequate. "And they're still at your apartment?" She dug her fingers into her palm. It was a better thing to focus on than how she messed up.

"I'm sorry, is that what you're worried about now?" You hadn't meant to sound pissed, but maybe you were. Maybe you were more than scared out of your mind you were gonna lose her. Maybe you were frustrated and pissed—beyond pissed—that she had kept this from you. And maybe mad at yourself thinking of all the times you should've known, all the times she was hurt and you weren't there—

Once again, she didn't know what to say. For the first time, she wasn't looking at you. It was a painful sight to linger on, her sunken features downcast under fluorescent lights and surrounded by beeping machines and wires. You were still fuming, but you couldn't be now. "I'm not mad. I'm not mad." You whispered, more to yourself than her, as you sat back next to her because what were you doing pulling away from her in the first place?

"It'd be okay if you were. I mean, if you are." She said with a humorless laugh. That wasn't the sound you wanted to hear. "If I were you, I would be. I get it—"

"Ellie, I'm not." You rubbed your brows. You shook your head as if it would make all your thoughts fall right where you wanted them to be. "Ok, that a lie, but— I don't want to be. I just wanna be happy that you're okay and I am. So, I'll be that. Only that." You grabbed her hand in an attempt to remind yourself that she was alive and okay, so everything was fine.

If you weren't convinced by your disjointed rant, you know Ellie wasn't. She wouldn't say it though. She wouldn't dare tell you how to feel when she came to your window bloodied, bruised, and shot. "I'm sorry," Her eyes welled up with tears she had failed to swipe up before they fell. She couldn't bring herself to. For years she felt like she had this band over her mouth, reminding her she had this huge secret she had no one to share with and only now had it given up and snapped. "I'm sorry," Was the only thing she could make herself say.

"Oh, baby—“ You tried your best to pull her into your side without aggravating the recent wound in her side. She had hid certain parts of her life behind a wall and you had learned to live with it, hoping that one day she'd feel comfortable enough to let you in. This was it, you thought.

She had let a few more tears fall, along with "I'm sorry"'s, before the sobbing had gotten to her gut, almost like a literal knife twisting in just to make things extra hurtful. Even then, she hadn't had the right words in mind. Instead, she held on your arm like her life depended on it. And that worked for a while. Though, not forever.

"Ellie." No response. "Ellie, can you look at me?" Her eyes flicked up to you with glassy eyes. It a sight you'd never experienced before and never wanted to again. "From now on, you're gonna tell me everything, okay?" You were persistent in wiping each tear as it fell. "And..I tell you everything, even if it's something you quite frankly won't give a shit about. And you tell me everything, even the-" You lowered your voice. "Even the Spider stuff."

"Yeah, okay." Her hands grabbed yours from her face and brought them to her lips. She sniffled as she gripped your hands. "I can do that,"

Healing from a gunshot wound was no doubt hard. It was harder when you were antsy to get some action. No, not that kind. (Though, she wasn't opposed.) The superhero-ing kind. Ellie missed swinging through the air and feel the wind all around her as all her problems became like tiny specks on paper. Of course she missed saving people and feeling needed by her city, but that had seemed to increase her risk of losing you. She had decided that wasn't an option, so she put Spider-woman on the backburner for right now, mostly.

She was slightly hunched over her computer in your newly shared apartment. There was no way you could back to your apartment after what happened and not enough space in Ellie's for the two of you to live in, so insert the supposedly inexpensive--totally expensive, it's new york let's be real--one bedroom, one bathroom beauty you now lived in.

Ellie brows furrowed as she felt somebody's hands wrap around her neck. The fact that her senses were relaxed and your scent was filling the air told her it was you. "Whatcha doing?" You nosed at her neck. "Fucking up your posture or just trying to get your dailies?"

She let out a snort. "Why not both? I like to multitask."

"Of course you do." You came up to stare at the screen. It was opened up youtube on some gaming video, but you weren't convinced. Your hand was on top of hers in a second, moving the mouse to click the other tabs. "Hey—!”

You weren't far from letting out an 'aha!' now that your suspicions had been proved right. She was knee-deep in articles about her absence, the surfacing of alien tech, the effects of the first alien invasion a couple years back in 2012. Deep in the rabbit-hole. "El..you said you were taking a break." Your hands fell to your sides.

"I was! I am." Ellie turned around in her chair, slowly so as not to feel that familiar sting in her side. "I'm just reading. That's not illegal." Ellie’s hands chased yours in an attempt to soothe your disappointment before you voiced it.

“Ever since you could walk again, you’ve been at this computer for hours, hun.” Her attempt fell flat as you moved to sit on the edge of desk, eyes glued to bright screen as it would change any moment. You wished it would. Then, you could have your girlfriend back.

“I’m at home for hours. I have to find something to fill the time.” Even her shitty excuse didn’t convince her. You were still practically sulking at the edge of the desk. “Hey,” She said softly. “I’m still relying on you to get up and down the stairs. I don’t think I’m gonna be swinging any soon.” She said, lighthearted. “Babe?” You hummed, eyes still glued to the screen. 

You weren’t sure you were ready for her to get back out there again, nor was her body. Well, the first part was a lie. You definitely didn’t want her to go back. It was selfish, that was obvious, but that didn’t change your mind. That didn’t change the fact that she was still hurting because some asshole on the street shot her with some superpowered gun. 

Ellie leaned closer, reaching her hand up to angle your chin down to her. “You don’t believe me.” She said in realization, eyes flicked between yours with a hint of hurt. She really couldn’t blame you, she wasn’t convincing herself either. 

“No, I don’t.” It hurt to peel her hand from your chin and walk away, but you did. You ignored her attempts to call after you, closing the door behind you and dragging your feet in the kitchen. You had concerned yourself with some attempt at cooking a dish you cared nothing about, but lucky for you your shitty cooking could keep you busy for hours.

Ellie had wandered into kitchen to check on you, shoulders going limp at the sight of you pitifully pushing food around in a pan. She approached you carefully and slowly, turning the stove off and setting the pan aside. "So," She inhaled slowly, hands wringing together. "You're mad at me,"

"I'm not mad at you." You shot back, taking the pan from the counter to put it right back on the still-hot stove. With a passive aggressive smile, you flipped it back on. "What would I be mad about?" Now that was a stupid question.

"I've got some idea." Ellie was quick in turning the stove off and snatching the pan from your hand. She sighed at the slosh of opaque orange liquid painting the counter and the floor. "Great." She said under her breath moving to grab a wad of paper towels and crouch down before a stabbing pain in her side reminded her to slow down.

Your irritation softened as you shot out to stable her and guide her onto the island. "You gotta be careful, El. You can't move like that yet." The mess on the other side of your kitchen was the last of your worries. "Are you okay? Does it still hurt?" You rolled up the bottom of her tank top to lay your eyes on the wound. No bleeding, okay. That's good.

"I'm fine. I'm..more worried about you, I swear you haven't breathed in a two minutes." Ellie's cold hands on your arms were oddly grounding, pulling you from your small moment of panic.

Your first breath in a while sounded something like a wheeze. Rolling her shirt back down, you pushed yourself off the counter—and away from the palpable concern from Ellie's eyes alone. Now the spill was helpful in distracting you, allowing you to distance yourself from the very familiar conversation you had been pushing back for weeks. You had realized your were practically buffing the polish of the counter until Ellie pulled at your arm, her other hand holding your waist.

"It's clean and I'm fine." Her voice was quiet and yet it cut through your raging thoughts effortlessly. It took the same amount of effort to turn you around to face her and to pry the towel out of your hands. "Let's get you clean," She could see you coming up with a way to decline and she was having none of it. If she couldn't even clean up her own mess, she'd at least calm your worries. Or at least try. "We'll both get clean, okay?"

Steam became a curtain around the two of you as you both worked up a lather. (No, not like that you perv.) You didn’t want to admit the hot water hitting your bare skin had been quite calming, though it didn’t do anything to stop the force that was your overthinking mind.

“Hey, I can hear you thinking.” Ellie’s arms around your waist was a pleasant surprise. You could feel a few strands of her damp hair tickling your neck, making a few giggled escape your lips. “This is the no thinking zone, babe.” She mumbled against your neck, trailing kisses down your neck to your shoulder.

“Then..how can I talk?”

"You don't need to do that either." She kissed your cheek, hand loosening it's grip on your waist and slipping lower. You gasped, grabbing her hand.

"Is that why you wanted to shower together?" You turned around, taking a step forward just to watch her inevitably back up to the tile. A raise of her brows told you she was shocked, but not unreceptive to what you were doing. The mix of needy haze and admiration in her eyes fueled your confidence to tease her even further. "You just wanted to get me all distracted?" Your rested your arms on her shoulder, fingers combing through her wet locks.

"Maybe I was being a good girlfriend and wanted to calm you down, which succeeded at." She usually wasn't this smug but she felt she'd earned the right. She was forced to sit on her ass almost all hours of the day, but that didn't mean she was completely useless.

"You are a good girlfriend." You blurted. "You're the best girlfriend, you know that?" Your teasing smirk turned into something genuine. "And I'm not just saying that because you literally saved my life. I'm saying that cause I.." Love you. "because I need you." It wasn't what you wanted to say, you were too scared to say the real thing. Scared that if you said it and allowed your relationship to progress any further, it'd be harder to watch her go everyday and know that might be the day you lose her to some supervillian with a vendetta. Besides, it was true. You needed her.

Ellie looked stunned at your admission and everything behind it. She let her forehead touch yours, sighing shakily as she took in your words. "I need you more," It was funny, if you were imaginative enough you could replace the need with love in a beautiful reality where New York didn't need saving and you could have her to yourself.

You were yanked out of your mind by Ellie's lip crashing into yours. A surprised sound made it out your lips only to come out muffled. You kissed back with just as much, if not more, intensity as she gave you. Your hands tangled in her hair as you lost yourself in the feel of her, no longer stuck in your mind. However, when her hand started to slip down, you hesitated. "Ellie, you haven't been cleared yet-"

"Don't care," She mumbled against your lips. "It'll be worth it." She pulled back to look at you, eyes dark with a need you haven't seen in her before. Between school, her internship, her secret vigilante-ing and then her getting hurt, you hadn't exactly made the time to have that talk.

"You say that now," Your brows were furrowed in concern. They only tightened when your eyes traveled down to her wound. It was healing for sure, but the idea of her in any pain at all hurt you too.

"Hey, it’s healing." Her hand was warm on your neck, finger swiping over your jaw. "Super-healing, remember?" She tilted her head so your eyes were drawn to her face instead of her wound.

"How can I forget?" You said sarcastically. "What other super things can you do?" You asked, genuine curiosity drowning underneath the tease in your voice. “Catch flies?”

"Keep it up, bug.” Ellie snorted, using her strength to hoist you up an inch from the ground. “Air-jail, how bout that?” 

“Ellie!” You yelped as the water came down the strands of your hair and your back, making you feel something like a wet dog. She knew how much you hated having wet hair and was using it to her advantage. “Put me down, right now!” You were only in the air for a few more seconds before she had you situated in her arms. If you could see how you looked clinging onto her, you would’ve busted out laughing. 

“Just showing you my super-strength.” She nosed at your collarbone as she put you down. “And being a really good girlfriend.” She was aware being a good girlfriend would mean being completely honest with you. She hadn’t been before and she was for sure stalling now, but she could make it up later. She wasn’t ready to deal with the complexities brought into your relationship by a certain arachnoid persona. For now, she’d enjoy making you happy for once. 

thank you for reading!

[axolotl4days]

Batman Dead Daughter AU part 2

I'm so sorry this took so long, I ment to post this like the day after the first one but I kept getting distracted and didn't have time to write it TwT

Anyways-

We are starting off with Damian after patrol and approaching Bruce

I also realized how my writing is a lot closer to script in the last one, especially with the dialog, and it's something I'll work on

Without further a due: Angst :D

Damian POV:

'This is really unordinary, first a new student in the middle of the year, who looks... similar to Father, but now she's hiding under a bridge? What is going on with that girl. Somethings not right, it's clear there's something she's not telling me, I should be angry, she could be some sort of threat. So why am i not? This isn't anger its.. something else. What even is this feeling? I feel like I know her. One things for certain, she needs help. Maybe I should speak to Father about this. He does have a habit of adopting children.' Damian thinks to himself as he removes his vigilante gear, he decides to approach Bruce and bring up his concerns

"Father." Damian says, commanding his attention away from the computer

"Damian. Is something wrong?" Bruce asks

"I'm not sure, it's about my new friend" Damian says

"Ah yes.... y/n correct?" Bruce asks but his voice waivers as he says her name

"Correct, father. I believe y/n may be in trouble of some kind. As you know she joined the school at an odd time, which is weird enough as it is. However, during patrol, I found her under a bridge. She claimed that she couldn't go home but wouldn't say why. And to make matters even more confusing, she didn't seem to know who I was." Damian explains

"What do you mean? Like she didn't know what a vigilante was? It's possible if she's new to Gotham, unlikely but possible." Bruce says

"No, she wasn't suprised, or confused, she acted as if meeting a vigilante were normal, but she didn't know my name, she seemed to know about vigilantes, but didn't know which one I was." He explained while gesturing to the cases of costumes throughout the years. "She also didn't have anything with her. When I found her, she only had her backpack with school supplies and a few clothes. No blankets or food items, nor any personal belongings. It seems like she hasn't been here for very long, but she's been attending school for a few weeks now." Damian says

Bruce pauses for a moment "That's... odd. Even if someone had recently become homeless, they would have more than just school supplies, especially if they've been living outside." Bruce says mostly to himself before turning back to his son "What are you thinking Damian?" Bruce asks

Damian remains silent for a while before responding, "With your permission, Father, I would like to invite her over after school tomorrow. Perhaps we could learn more then. I heard it's supposed to rain tomorrow as well, and I'd feel bad knowing my friend was out there getting sick." Damian states and waits for a response

"I see. Very well then, you may invite her over, I'll inform Alfred so he will make extra for dinner." Bruce says, calling Alfred in. "In the meantime, you need to turn in for the night, I'll speak with Alfred about tomorrow"

"Very well, goodnight father." Damian says, walking past Alfred

Bruce POV:

"Master Bruce? Are you alright?" Alfred asks having heard the conversation

Bruce doesn't speak for a moment, but eventually, he turns to face the loyal butler

"Alfred I... I don't want to get my hopes up. I know that it's probably just a coincidence, but... when you pick the two of them up tomorrow, I want you to call me immediately and let me know if it... if it's possible.. if it could be -"

"I will Master Bruce. I promise that the moment I am able to confirm, I will let you know." Alfred says

"Thank you Alfred." Bruce says, as he unlocks one of the drawers in his desk, and he pulls own a dusty photo and cleans it, the photo being a photo of him, and his long lost daughter smiling eating icecream

"I know it's... highly unlikely, but would you like me to prepare her favorite? Even if it's not her, I know that you enjoy the meal as well, and it's been awhile, it'd be nice to relive the good memories." Alfred suggests

"That... that would be nice Alfred, thank you." Bruce says before looking at the photo again and putting it away

The next day:

Damian was right, it is raining and by the looks of it, it'll be raining all day, the day begins the same as normal with Damian getting prepared for school, and packing a larger umbrella with him before heading down to breakfast where he finds two of his older brothers

Damian POV:

"Grayson, Drake" Damian greets them

"Hey kid, you got everything you need? It's raining cats and dogs out there" Dick says causing Damian to roll his eyes

"I'm well aware Grayson, I already knew this would happen so I prepared accordingly, even grabbing a larger umbrella to fit us" Damian replies

"Us? Who's us? We aren't going out today" Tim asks

"Us, as in me and my friend, I'm bringing her here after school today. I've already informed Father and Alfred. You two better not freak her out." Damian warns

"Woah, you're bringing a friend home? That's new" Dick says

"You have friends? Like. Real friends? From school?" Tim laughs

"Yes I have friends. What's with the laughter. And whats real friends supposed to mean" Damian snaps

"Well, considering your always calling people peasants it's surprising, not to mention it's someone who's not like us." Tim replies as if it's common knowledge

"What is that supposed to mean. Y/n doesn't have to be like us. We're friends, and that's that. Honestly, we're practically siblings. That's what the people at school say." Damian says. "Oh, and for your information, she may be in a tough situation right now. I don't yet know the details, but something is up, so when she gets here, you guys better not say anything suspicious, got it?" Damian basically orders before he walks away to head to school.

"Y/n? Huh..." Dick mutters to himself

"What is it? You know this person?" Tim asks

"No no it's just... I swear I've heard that name before." Dick says almost serious

At school, y/n pov:

'Okay, y/n, there's no need to panic just yet. No one's said anything, so he didn't tell anyone. What do I say if he brings it up? It happened while in the suit, so he probably won't approach it as himself, but what if he does? Or if he asks me about home? What do I do if he asks me about my parents? I need to think of a plan. Dad always has plans, but what do I even do? I can't just go up to the manor and explain who I am. It's been..' y/n pauses to do math but fails 'it's been an unknown amount of years, it's possible more things have changed than what I can tell. It's possible they won't even remember me, or they could think I was some sort of clone like in a Sci fi movie. I don't know anything for certain yet, so I have to play it safe... even if it hurts'

Y/n braces herself, thoughts of things that could go wrong still swirling about in her mind, but she can't think about that now, she has classes to attend.

Damian arrives to class and greets her like normal, she holds back her sigh of relief knowing that it's probably because it was 'Robin' that she talked to last night, she's seen her dad shift between personas before and if he learned from him then he won't mention a thing about what happened.

The two start talking about homework, which y/n suddenly realizes she didn't do, but before she can worry about it, the teacher speaks up

"Good morning class, today's going to be a bit different as we're starting a new project and for this you'll need to work in pairs, so before anything, everyone needs to go around and get into pairs and then when that's done I'll start handing out information on the project and explain what it is."

"Y/n? Would you like to work on this project together?" Damian asks

"Sure, we work together on some stuff already so this should be a peice of cake" y/n replies

"Perfect, we can work on it at my place after school as well, speaking of which, would you like to come over today? It's Friday, and I was thinking we could have a uh... sleepover. There's lots of stuff we could do, and it'll be easier to find time for the project that way and you could stay for the whole weekend" Damian asks, hoping to convince his friend without sounding weird. But he can't stand the idea of her being outside all weekend, especially with Gothams weather.

"Oh! Sure I would love to come over for a sleep over it sounds like a lotta fun!" Y/n replies, trying to hold back her excitement 'oh my god this works out perfectly. Now I can see what's changed, maybe I can talk to dad, I hope he's okay, this'll let me find out if he remembers me or not. I'll finally have Alfred's cooking again!' Y/n thinks to herself

"Good good, I'll have our bulter Pennyworth pick us up straight after school. We have a library in the manor so we don't need to use the schools library, oh and just a warning, my brothers are probably going to be at the manor as well, just ignore them, they're fools." Damian says

'There's more of them?!' Y/n thinks to herself, trying to hide her shock, but Damian notices anyways but he doesn't say anything about it.

"Alright class, now that everyone is partnered up I'll explain the project, this one will take a few weeks so listen up" the teacher says, gathering everyone's attention and explains the project

They spend the rest of class working on the project, writing notes, and during breaks they talk about what they're going to do at the manor, Damian discovers y/n knows even less movies than he does so they decide they could have a movie marathon when they first get there.

Before they know it, school is over and it's time to head out. Just as Damian said, Alfred comes to pick them up right after school, and parks somewhere where the rain isn't as intense.

"Hello Pennyworth, this is Y/n." Damian introduces the two noticing the pale look on Alfred's face just like he had when he first mentioned Y/n

"Hello, thank you for picking us up Alfred!" Y/n says, happy to see Alfred again after all this time, though a bit shocked to see how white his hair has gotten, but otherwise he looks the same. She too sees the pale in his face, but is still too nervous to say anything.

"Of course miss Y/n" He says, while getting into the car "If you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make while we head to the manor, so I'll put the sound dividers up, in the mean time the two of you can pick what music you wish to listen to during the drive" Alfred says

"Alright, here y/n, we can listen to almost any song with this" Damian says

As the two begin to look through the music, Alfred sinks into the sea as he processes what he's seen. Could it really be Y/n?

Alfred pov:

He takes a moment to compose himself, he has a cold sweat, but he calms himself and calls Bruce

The phone feels like it rings forever before Bruce answers

"Hello Alfred, any news?" Bruce asks, for he was waiting for this call ever since Alfred left

"It's her Master Bruce. It has to be. She looks exactly the same as she did before. She sounds the same, too, I froze for a moment, but neither of them addressed it." Alfred says

"Are you sure? Did she say anything?" Bruce asks

"She didn't say much. However, when Damian introduced us, he referred to me as Pennyworth as he always does, yet Y/n referred to me as Alfred, regardless. Her eyes were unmistakable, even if it were someone who looked like her, those eyes, I would never forget them." Alfred says

"I see. Come get me once you arrive at the manor, we need to discuss how were going to go about this, see what she knows and confirm everything for sure." Bruce replies

"Of course Master Bruce, we'll be their shortly" Alfred informs him

The drive passes quickly and they arrive at the manor, quickly getting in as the rain pours harder and harder. Alfred takes their umbrellas and coats

"Alright, I have some business to attend to, but I shall make dinner shortly. Feel free to do whatever you wish in the meantime, but stick together, wouldn't want anyone to get lost." Alfred says side eyeing Y/n

"No need to worry, Pennyworth. I've memorized the layout of the manor. We will be heading to the theater first, you may find us there when dinner is ready." Damian states

"Wow, you weren't kidding, you actually brought a friend," two voices call out, causing Damian to scowl

"Grayson, Drake." Damian turns to the approaching duo."Y/n, these are my older brothers and nuecences. Who have apparently decided to bother us." Damian says

"Awe, don't be like that, Dames. we just wanna meet our baby brothers new... friend, " Dick says, meeting Y/n's gaze "Anyways- the names Dick Grayson, pleasure to meet you" he introduces himself before elbowing the boy next to him to stop his stareing

"Ow- oh uh, I'm Tim Drake. Sorry about Dick, it's not every day we meet a friend of the demons. Are you guys going to be working on something?" Tim asks

"Oh well, technically, we have a school project, but we have plenty of time to work on it, so we were going to have a um, 'movie marathon'" Y/n replies, unsure of how to react

"Yes, we plan to binge some movies that neither of us have seen before, I also wrote a list of other activities we could do, including but not limited to, various board games" Damian replies

"Wow, sounds like fun, maybe we'll pop in for a movie or two later on" Dick teases

"Grayson-" Damian hisses before being interupted

"Ahem, boys play nice, Master Dick and Master Tim, dinner will be ready in a few hours, I have some matters to attend to with Master Bruce, so please behave yourselves." Alfred states

"Alright, alright, we'll let the two of you go have fun, but don't think we won't drop by for some family board games." Dick says

Groaning, Damian leads Y/n towards the theater while Alfred heads to Bruce's office, leaving Dick and Tim alone

"...... So I'm not the only one who noticed she looks exactly like Bruce, right?" Dick asks

"No, no, you were not. How is this even possible she looks like she's Damian's age, so it's not like Bruce had another affair? But she looks so much like him it's kind of creepy, it could be another clone situation." Tim replies

"Makes Damians little comment about them being siblings earlier seem like it may not have been a joke" Dick says

"He didn't say anything about it, though. You'd think he'd have made all sorts of blood siblings comments by now." Tim says

"Yeah..." Dick says absentmindedly

"You good Dick?? You look like your thinking which is never a good thing" Tim jokes

"Ha ha, very funny. I'm fine. I was just. I feel like I've heard the name Y/n before but can't remember where, " Dick explains, and the two of them stand there for a moment before deciding to actually join movie night

With Alfred:

"Master Bruce?" Alfred approaches the office and lets himself in, noticing the papers all over the place, recognizing all of them

"Is it really possible? Even if it is her, how hasn't she grown up? She'd have been older than Dick by now. And if it is her, why didn't she come back? Why did it take until Damian invited her over for her to come here? Are we sure she even remembers us? What if it's some sick joke? What if some villain made a clone of her and sent her here to toy with me? What if -"

Before he could spiral any further, Alfred cuts him off

"Master Bruce. Calm down. I'm aware of how... odd this situation is, and there is much to discuss. However, I feel it would be best for you to speak to her yourself. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this. She is her father's daughter, I'm sure she'll explain everything." Alfred says

"And what if she can't? What if it isn't really her and just a huge coincidence? What then? We would be back at Square one not knowing what happened to her or where to find her or-"

"You're doing it again Master Bruce. Please, go talk to her" Alfred says

"Alfred I- I don't know if I can. If I can face her. It's been so long I.." Bruce, finally looking away from his papers to look up at his butler

"It'll be okay. I'll be there with you as well. You... you don't have to see her just yet. You could wait for then to finish with a few of their movies and settle in before approaching. It'll give you some time to brace yourself as well." Alfred suggests

"That.. sounds like a plan Alfred, thank you." Bruce says

"Of course Master Bruce. I'll go ahead and start dinner now, it shouldnt take too long, so I'll fetch you when it's done, and we can go talk to her. And then have dinner afterward," Alfred replies

"Alright Alfred." Bruce says

After some time passes, the kids have watched around two and a half movies, they're in the middle of third when they hear footsteps approaching

Y/n Pov:

Y/n slightly tenses up. She knows those footsteps, even through the sound of the movie, she can hear them. Her father always taught her to notice the little things like that. The boys notice but don't think much of it until

"Ah, there you all are, Alfred told me you guys would be in here," Bruce's voice calls out as he walks over the greet the others, he looks more tense than usual, but he has been for the past few days it's probably case related the boys think

"Hello father, this is my friend y/n" Damian turns to look at Bruce who after making his way over to everyone finally lays his eyes on y/n, and he freezes

Dick and Tim don't say anything, both looking back and forth between Bruce and Y/n wide eyes, there is a long awkward silence before Damian decides to speak up

"Alright, what is with everyone today! I swear you have all been acting strange. It's not even that rare for me to have friends. If I knew you'd all act like this, I would've thought twice. Even you father, I can't believe it -" Damian starts to scold, but Y/n cuts him off

"It's okay, Damian, cut him some slack, it's not every day a dad sees his dead daughter again" Y/n says while putting a hand on Damians shoulder with wet eyes

"It really is you, Y/n..." Bruce says, tears forming in his eyes

"Hey, Dad... I'm back, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, and I know you probably have a lot of questions, but -" Before y/n can continue, Bruce pulls her into a hug, and the two let out their tears

The others can only stand there and watch as the two cry and apologize to another

"So, I'm all for new family members but what the hell is happening right now can anyone explain" Dick asks

"I agree with Grayson for once, what is going on?" Damian adds

"It's... a long story that we can discuss later. First things first." Bruce stands up but doesn't let go of Y/n almost like he's worried if he let's her go she'll disappear again."Right now, all that matters is that it's time for dinner. Alfred made your favorite Y/n, we weren't sure if it was really you but we wanted to hope it was." Bruce says and they all head to the dining room, still all in shock

They sit at the dinner table and-

"Wow Bruce, another kid? You seriously have a problem." A voice calls out causing the others to look at him and try to signal that it's not the time to say stuff like that

"Hello Jason, it's good to see you too. And for your information, this is Y/n, and technically, she was my first kid, " Bruce says. "Are you here for dinner?"

"Yeah, I wanted some of Alfred's cooking- hold on. What do you mean she's your first kid she's like the same age as the demon spawn??" Jason acts

"Oh that's because I was dead for- ..... uh dad how long was I dead for? I didn't do the math" Y/n says

"It's been... 20 years now" Bruce says hesitantly and watches the realization set in in everyone's eyes

"Oh... wow... that's a lot longer than I thought... but yeah, I've been dead for a while. I only came back to life earlier this month... Also, dad, I know we'll do questions later, but I don't actually know how I came back to life, I was completely alone when I woke up, and I wasn't where I died." Y/n tells him

"I see. That's alright, my dear, we can worry about that later, Damian told me about where you were staying after he found you during patrol, so I'm sure you're hungry" Bruce says

"Father! "Bruce!" The boys yell

"What?" He turns around confused

"Pft wow bruce" Jason laughs only causing Bruce to look even more confused

"Dad I think they're talking about the fact you mentioned patrol" Y/n tells her father while giggling

"Oh, guys, y/n already knows. Well, she knew about me and knowing my daughter she put two and two together when she saw Damian as Robin" Bruce explains

"Yeah, the moment I heard about there being more vigilantes and that apparently dad had more kids, I figured he started a family business, speaking of which dad how many kids did you have after me??? Did you lean into the 'Brucie' persona that much?" Y/n asks, nudging her father

"Okay, in my defense, most of them are adopted. You and Damian are my only biological children, and technically.... these aren't the only ones there's a few more, but they're out right now. Technically Dick and Jason don't live here anymore. They come here for Alfred's cooking most of the time, " Bruce says and almost as if on que y/n's stomach growls, "Speaking of which, it sounds like it's time to eat."

They finally settle at the dinner table, and Alfred brings out the food, y/n practically drools at the smell alone

They eat, and none of them say anything, but they all notice y/n crying while eating the food, and they wonder what she's been through in the month since she woke up before coming here. Bruce and Alfred especially make mental notes to do a health check-up and get her back onto a proper and healthy diet once she's settled back in. Alfred has many mixed feelings seeing y/n eat. She eats much faster than she used to. Jason notices this also and knows what it's like trying to find food on your own as a kid. He not so subtly gives her some of his food.

After dinner and desert (Alfred was so relieved to hear it really was her, he made cookies to celebrate)

Y/n starts to look really tired

"Are you alright sweetheart?" Bruce asks

"I'm okay, dad, just stuffed. It's been a while since I've eaten that much. I'm probably going to have a food coma - that was a joke. I'm not actually going to fall into a coma. " She quickly adds, knowing how much her dad overthinking things

"Well, food coma or not, it's been a long day, I think it's time for you to head to bed." Bruce says, standing up

"Aw, dad already? We haven't even gotten to talk, and I know you have questions, and I do too, and" Y/n starts

"Sweetheart." Bruce says firmly but warm as he crouches down to meet his daughters eyes. "You're right. There are many questions, but those questions can wait. You need your rest. As much as I want to know everything, I want to make sure you're okay first. We can talk in the morning, and the day after, and so on. Your home now." Bruce says

"Yeah... I'm home now." Y/n says, as she starts to cry again and Bruce gently scoops her up in his arms

"It's okay, sweetheart." He says cooing

"I missed you so much, dad." y/n cries

"I missed you too." Bruce says, "Let's get you to bed, I'm sure you've missed your room too. " He starts to walk through the halls while the others are still sitting at the table stunned

"You still have my room?" Y/n asks as Bruce carries her

"What kind of question is that? Of course I still have your room." Bruce replies

"Well... it's been so long, and you probably knew I was dead so I figured-"

"I never accepted you were dead." Bruce cuts her off. "I always hoped I would find you one day. Even if you were a grown adult, I kept your room the same." Bruce says

"Dad..." Y/n says, knowing that this whole time, her father has been looking for a daughter that he would never find "I... I *was* dead... I'm sorry-"

"Don't you dare apologize. Your only a kid it isn't your fault. Whatever happened wasn't your fault. We can talk about it more in the morning. But for now.." Bruce takes out his keys and unlocks the door to Y/n's room and tucks her in. She yawns and Bruce starts to get up but Y/n grabs him

"Dad... could you stay with me until I fall asleep? I know you have work to do and that those guys are probably waiting but-" y/n pauses

"Of course I will. Just rest now my dear." Bruce says and it's not long before y/n is out like a light

Bruce after a few more minutes finally gets up, he plugs in a nightlight and makes his way back to the dining room where he is then greeted by the boys and he sighs

"Boys."

"Bruce" "Father

"Alright. I suppose it's time to explain." Bruce starts as he pulls out a chair "Where do I even begin?"

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

Aaaaaaaand another cliffhanger! Sorry not sorry but I've been working on and off on this post for weeks I think. Theres still a good bit of story left (aka the explanations) I don't currently have much planned afterwards but I feel like when I write the next part depending on how I write it this may become a mini series (I say mini because again, I don't have much planned this started out as a random concept in my head) if i do write more after the explanations I'd definitely lean even more into the yandere aspects (I attempted to start planting some seeds of it with the batfam getting more concerned and protective, and the next part will definitely tip them over the edge :) hehe )

I'm sorry if the characters are well, out of character but, *points to the fact I'm new to this fandom and new to writing fanfiction in general*

Also I'm sorry there's no cass, duke, barb, or steph

I don't know much about them yet, I know who they are but not really how they act or solid personality traits so I don't know how to write them yet, but I'll probably allude to them or say that the others explain the situation to them or smth

Thanks for being patient with me for this part lol

[requiemforthepoets]

first encounter ⟢ CL16

⟢ part two of you’re the closest to heaven that i’ll ever be

𖤓 series masterlist ⟢ playlist ⟢ part three ☽

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x celestial!reader

SUMMARY: all thanks to leo, charles finally got the chance to meet you—the celestial being who has consumed his every waking thoughts, and managed to find out new things.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: bible angel names references, some people may find this fic offensive, concept of divine beings and heaven & life and death, no use of y/n, angels and devils, mentions of papa leclerc (beginning is set in 2017) and jules bianchi, fluff, falling (literally & figuratively) in love, named side characters, angst but with a happy ending, purely written fic, a little bit of world building (concepts), mentions of death, bad/evil people, cursing, not proofread, and typos.

WORD COUNT: 5k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic may not be some people’s cup of tea, if you don’t like it, don’t read it. sorry it took me a LONG time to post the part 2 of this series, i already have this on my drafts but never got the time to check on it bc i’ve been working on my other series (fa14 series), but finally, here it is! the part 3 may take a long time to be posted again 🥲 but you don’t have to worry bc i intend on finishing this series. taglist is open for this series, so just comment or message me if you want to be tagged. your comment/reblog is highly appreciated, and i hope you’ll enjoy this second part of the series!

It was a warm late afternoon in Monaco, and Charles had finally pulled himself out of his apartment, hoping that some fresh air and Leo’s cheerful company might turn off the constant thoughts running through his mind. Since that night in Singapore, you had been all Charles could think about—the image of you standing before him, looking at him as though you knew the secrets he hadn’t even dared to ask himself. Charles had barely gotten a word in before you disappeared, leaving him with nothing but more questions.

The park was mostly empty, allowing him and Leo to stroll without the usual flood of cameras or people hoping to get a quick word with him. Charles enjoyed these rare quiet moments, watching Leo run through the grass, capturing photos of him mid-leap, his ears flapping, and his tail wagging in pure delight. For a while, it was peaceful—that is until Leo began barking persistently, his gaze fixed on something in the distance.

“Leo, calme-toi.” Charles called, trying to soothe his normally docile dachshund.

Leo rarely barked at nothing, and Charles couldn’t see what had him all stirred up. As he looked past Leo, his heart skipped. There you were, standing at the edge of the park, just as he had remembered you, dressed in black, untouched by the brightness of the world around you, as if you had stepped from a different realm entirely. Slowly, Charles walked over, kneeling beside Leo, who was still barking.

“Can you see her too, buddy?” Charles asked softly, but Leo only turned his head back towards you.

His barks began shifting into a delighted whine, tail wagging as though greeting an old friend. To Charles’ amazement, Leo took off towards you, bounding across the grass with uncharacteristic excitement. You bent down on one knee as Leo reached you, his small body pressing happily against your touch. Charles just stood there and watched, captivated by the whole sight, how your hand moved over Leo’s fur, and how the dog responded, oblivious to the fact that what he felt was something beyond the ordinary. You then looked up at Charles and smiled, a gentle, knowing expression on your face.

“Hello, little one,” you murmured to Leo, reaching out to stroke him. Your gaze followed Leo’s figure as he trotted back toward Charles. “He’s a beautiful soul. It’s clear how well you take good care of him, he is very happy with this life.”

Charles swallowed, taken aback by the warmth of your words. He felt a huge wave of relief washing over him, and somehow, you were not a figment of his imagination. You were in front of him, speaking to him, your voice soft but firm, grounding him in the reality of your presence.

Noticing a bench nearby, you gestured, “shall we sit?” Charles nodded.

He followed you as you walked, though he kept glancing around as if worried that someone might catch him talking to thin air. The two of you sat side by side, your gaze focused on Leo as he scampered around, while Charles couldn’t seem to look anywhere but at you. The silence between you felt almost sacred, deafening, thick with all the unspoken questions he longed to ask.

“I know you have many questions,” finally, you broke the silence. Your voice was gentle. “Especially as to why you can see me, when others could not.”

Charles let out a shaky breath, nodding. “I—I don’t understand. I’ve seen you before, but you keep on disappearing, and no one else…they never see you.” his voice was a soft murmur, filled with confusion and wonder.

“Our kind, like myself, we’re not meant to be seen by human eyes. We’re here to watch and guide, but only from afar. Most humans only sense us as a passing feeling, a presence.” you softly said, as you studied him with a faint smile. “But in your case, you see me. Truly see me.”

“Why, though? Why am I able to see you?” Charles’ brows furrowed, his gaze intent on yours.

You turned to look at Leo, who was now sitting a short distance away, watching the two of you with a curious tilt of his head, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Leo.

“It’s rare, Charles. But sometimes, there is a connection between our kind to your kind that goes beyond the veil. I’ve thought about it myself, and though I don’t have all the answers, it’s clear that there’s a reason you and I keep crossing paths.”

Charles’ heart raced. The way you spoke, as though fate had woven an invisible thread between you had left him reeling. He glanced around the park, reminded of how strange this conversation must look to anyone passing by, but he did not care at all. The need to understand, to know you, outweighed any risk of prying eyes.

“Maybe…maybe we should go somewhere less public?” Charles suggested, his voice low.

He did not want this moment to end, he couldn’t let you disappear on him again before he had the chance to understand this kind of connection. You looked at him for a long contemplative moment, then nodded.

“All right, lead the way.”

Charles led you quietly through the streets of Monaco and up to his apartment. He hadn’t said much on the way, clearly lost in thought, yet there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you. When you entered his apartment, you immediately noticed how it held an essence of him. Warm, understated, and filled with memories. The walls were decorated with framed photographs spanning his life from childhood karting days to podium celebrations in F1. Trophies were all lined up on the shelf, and each piece seemed to carry a story of its own.

You were drawn to the photos, especially those capturing his relationships, the warm smiles he shared with his family, playful moments with his friends, and candid shots of him and his brothers. Then your gaze settled on one particular photograph, and a bittersweet feeling bloomed within you. It was a younger version of Charles, perhaps in his teens, standing alongside a man whose face you recognize. Jules Bianchi.

Charles noticed the direction of your attention as he finished filling up Leo’s dog bowl, and he stepped over to join you, his expression softening as he saw the photograph. Jules had been so much more than just a mentor to him. The man in that photo had shaped parts of his soul and his dreams. You could feel the weight of Charles’ emotions lingering in the air, a tender ache mixed with recognition.

“You knew him?” Charles’ voice was quiet as he stood beside you.

You nodded softly, your own voice taking on a gentle tone. “I was there in his final moments. I was the one who guided him when he was ready to go, helping him crossover.”

Charles’ face was a mix of expression, caught between surprise and disbelief. For a second, he seemed unable to respond, the information settling slowly. You watched him intently as he took a deep breath, grounding himself.

“You…you spoke to him?” he managed, his voice strained with a mix of sorrow and longing.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady but tender. “I spoke with his soul as he lingered between here and the afterlife. It was…peaceful. He was calm when I arrived, almost as if he knew he was not going to stay.”

You paused, “I then asked him about his life, what his favorite thing about life was.”

”He told me that his family meant everything to him. He then mentioned being a godfather, and his dreams for his protégé, a young man named Charles.” you added.

“He said that?” he whispered, breath hitched as he instinctively reached up to touch the frame, his fingers resting just over the image of Jules’ face.

“He spoke of you with such pride, with hope that you would go on to achieve everything he had dreamed for you. Jules saw himself in you, Charles. His last thoughts were with his family and you.” you looked at him softly. A quiet rage simmered in Charles’ eyes as he turned to look at you, his voice tinged with frustration.

“But why? Why couldn’t you let his family speak to him, too? They waited for so long, hoping he’d wake up, to say goodbye properly.” the raw pain and anger in his voice were unmistakable.

Charles had not meant to question your intentions, but the loss of Jules had carved a wound that had never fully healed, and in his grief, he momentarily forgot you were not human. You looked at him with a soft, understanding smile, letting the weight of his sorrow wash over you. You had witnessed this kind of reaction before, how those who are grief-stricken often felt deprived of closure.

“I understand, Charles. If I could have done differently, I would have,” you replied, your voice gentle but firm. “But it wasn’t his body I spoke to, it was his soul. Jules was already watching from the other side, beyond the reach of the physical world. In those moments, he wasn’t in his body anymore, he was seeing all of you from a place where time no longer held sway.”

Charles looked down, processing your words, the anger fading slowly as he tried to keep his emotions steady. He tried to reconcile his emotions with the reality of what you had just shared. He ran a hand through his hair, gaze fixed on the floor as he took in a shaky breath.

“So he…he was watching us all along?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you assured him. “He was with you. Every tear, every moment spent beside his hospital bed, he saw it all, even if he himself couldn’t respond in a way you wished for it to be.”

“Souls don’t always leave the way we want them to. They transition gently, often lingering just to be close to the people they love.” you added. Charles’ shoulder slumped slightly, and he let out a shaky sigh, nodding as if finally accepting what had once seemed unimaginable.

“It…it makes sense,” he murmured. “Jules was always calm, even in the most difficult moments. Maybe he knew it would be easier this way.”

There was a peaceful silence that settled between the both of you, the only sound being Leo’s soft footsteps as he padded over to sit by Charles’ feet. Charles looked at you again, the sorrow in his eyes tinted by a glimmer of gratitude.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, a sincerity in his words that touched you deeply. “For…for being there with him, and for telling me.”

You gave him a reassuring nod, feeling the depth of his appreciation. “He is proud of you, Charles. More than you know. You are honoring his legacy every time you step onto the track.”

Charles closed his eyes briefly, absorbing your words, a new sense of peace settling over him. He knew that the ache would remain, but perhaps now, with you there to share this part of Jules’ journey, it would be a little easier to carry.

Eventually, you found yourself seated on the barstool, observing how Charles moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients as he prepared a dish called pasta, and noting the way he moved with a quiet confidence. He seemed at ease, but you could tell by the occasional glance he cast your way that he was still processing everything. The strange connection he had with you, a Celestial he could see but others could not. As he stirred the sauce on the stove, he broke the silence, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

“So…what exactly are you?” Charles asked, attempting to sound casual, though his curiosity was clear. “Are you like an angel of death or something?” his brows furrowed slightly as he added.

“No, Charles. I’m not here to take you away,” you assured him, tone gentle, and couldn’t help but smile at his suspicion. “Think of me as a guide and a protector. My duty is to help souls cross the afterlife, to make sure that they are not alone and lonely when they cross the other side.”

“So, you’re…you’re not here for me?” he asked, his voice tentative. You could see the worry in his eyes, as if he had been half afraid that he might be speaking with the very spirit that would one day guide him out of this life.

“Not at all,” you replied. “I’m here because, somehow, we have this connection. I was there in the hospital room, with your father, when you saw me for the first time. It was a natural part of my duty, I was waiting to guide him. Just as I was there for Jules.”

“So you only appear when…someone’s close to death?” Charles’ gaze dropped to the countertop, and he nodded slowly, as if piercing it all together.

“Typically, yes,” you replied. “Humans are not meant to see me. They may sense it, a presence, calmness, or even a cool warmth when I’m near, but that’s usually all. So, I could not quite understand why you could see me. It isn’t common.”

“But I can see you.” he said, almost to himself, as if still trying to grasp this phenomenon.

“Exactly.” you looked at him thoughtfully. “Over time, as I have watched over you, you’ve somehow become aware of me. It’s as if the bond between us allowed you to see me when others can’t.”

You let the words hang, hoping it answered the mystery that had puzzled him for so long. Charles turned back to the stove, his movements slower, as if he were allowing himself time to absorb what you had just said. After a moment, he turned to look at you again.

“Back in Singapore…I kept thinking of you, wondering if you were real or just in my head.” he hesitated, then continued. “And you appeared, it was like you sensed me or something.”

“That’s precisely what happened,” a gentle smile crossed your face as you saw the gears turning inside his head. “I could feel your thoughts, your longing to see me, and so I came to you. Your thoughts, they called to me.”

“But why do you always disappear?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and exasperation. “Every time I think I already have you here, you’re gone the second I look away.”

“It’s not by choice, Charles.” you met his gaze, understanding his frustration. “My presence here beside you is not permanent. I have duties beyond just watching over you, it is my duty to guide other people as well. My duty is to help those souls cross peacefully into the afterlife, which means I’m often called away. That’s why I can’t always be here, even if you want me to be.”

“I understand,” he said softly as he looked down, absorbing your words. “It’s…strange, but it does make sense.”

A comfortable silence fell between you and Charles as he took out a plate and transferred the pasta dish on it. You could still feel the wheels turning in his mind as he processed everything. After a moment, you spoke again.

“If you want me to be with you, well, there is a way.” you said.

He looked up at you, now intrigued. “A way?”

You nodded. “Yes. If you light a match or a lighter and call for me, then blow it out, I’ll hear it, and I’ll come to you.”

“Why a match?” Charles’ brows furrowed as he considered it.

“Fire.” you explained. “It is a symbol of transition. It’s an ancient element that is used to connect realms, to call forth spirits, and to bridge the distance between worlds. When you light a match or a lighter, you are creating a momentary flame that connects you to my realm, and when you blow the fire out, it becomes a message—a summons. I’ll hear it, wherever I am.”

“So, I just…call out to you, light a flame, and you’ll come?” Charles’ lips curved into a small smile.

“Yes.” you returned his smile, feeling the warmth in his gaze. “As long as you need me, Charles. Wherever you are, I’ll always find a way to be there.”

Charles looked at you with a mix of gratitude and something deeper, a newfound comfort that seemed to settle over him. In that quiet moment, Charles reached for his fork, but his gaze lingered on you, a newfound clarity softening his features.

“Thank you.” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

He then placed a plate of pasta right in front of you, and you tilted your head, looking at the dish with sheer curiosity and slight confusion. Charles noticed your expression, stopping mid-motion as he raised his own fork.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice gentle but genuinely concerned.

“I don’t…eat,” you explained softly, gaze flickering between him and the plate, offering him a small, apologetic smile. “Celestials don’t have the need for food, so I don’t know what it’s like to taste something, let alone pasta.” you could see a flicker of surprise and something that almost looked like offense pass over his face.

“What? You’ve never tasted pasta?” he asked, shocked, as he looked down at his beloved dish, looking genuinely horrified. “Pasta is…it’s comforting, it’s warmth and tradition. It’s something everyone has to try.”

“Okay, imagine this—it’s soft and a little chewy, warm and…kind of like a hug, but for your mouth.” he added, grinning at you with his eyes lighting up. “And with this tomato sauce, its got this balance of sweet and tangy, a bit salty too, it just…makes everything feel better.” his expression softened.

You watched Charles as he spoke, entranced and touched by his earnest attempt to describe something so familiar to him yet so foreign to you. Spending this time with him, watching his animated expression, hearing his heartfelt explanations, you begin to understand why his father and Jules had spoken of him so warmly in their final moments. Charles was not only passionate, but genuinely kind and unpretentiously funny. There was a gentleness to him that touched your heart, even if it couldn’t beat the way a human’s did.

Hours slipped by so fast, and you both found yourselves seated on his living room couch, talking quietly, the evening light fading around you. Charles asked questions after questions, fascinated by your world and by what you do. You answered each one as best as you could, and with each answer, his awe seemed to deepen. You shared stories of guiding other souls, moments of peace and love you had witnessed. He listened, hanging onto each word, and you could see a newfound calmness in his eyes.

While you were in the middle of telling him a story about guiding an elderly woman who had waited until all her children were by her side before letting go, you heard a soft sound. Glancing to your right, you found Charles with his head tipped back against the couch cushion, his breathing steady and calm. He had drifted off, exhaustion settling over him like a soft blanket. For a moment, you just watched him, studying his peaceful face. Charles’ long lashes rested against his cheeks, and a gentle warmth seemed to radiate from him, a stark contrast to the chill you carried with you.

A quiet yearning tugged at you as you lifted a hand, your fingers hovering near his face. You wanted, just once, to feel the warmth of human skin, to know what it was like to truly touch, but you know better. If you let your fingers graze him, he would only feel a cold wisp of air, a reminder that you didn’t belong to this world in the same way as Charles did. So, reluctantly, you lowered your hand and simply looked at him, memorizing the moment.

You had spent nearly the entire day with Charles, and though part of you longed to stay, you knew it was time to leave. Quietly, you stood up from the couch and made your way to where Leo was resting nearby. You knelt down beside the little dachshund, who lifted his head to watch you with those soulful eyes, tail giving a soft wag, and you reached out, your fingers ghosting over his fur.

“Leo, I know that your past life was not kind to you and had been cut short, but you’re safe now. In this life, you’re well taken care of and so loved.” you spoke softly, as Leo seemed to tilt his head, like he understood every word you say. “Charles is a good man, he will love and take care of you, always.”

As you straightened up, Leo continued to watch you, his eyes filled with a sense of understanding. You turned to take one last look at Charles, still asleep on the couch, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. A soft smile crept over your face as you watched him, there was a wave of warmth washing over you, even without a heartbeat to drive it.

With a final, quiet glance at Leo, who looked back at you with trusting eyes, you let yourself disappear, and slipped back into the unseen world that had always separated you from the people you guided. Yet, for a short moment, you knew you had left a part of yourself with Charles and Leo in that Monaco apartment.

Charles woke up with a dull ache running through his neck, reminding him of the night he had spent sleeping on the couch. He rubbed the sore spot, groaning slightly as he tried to stretch out the stiffness. For a moment, he just sat there, gathering his thoughts, until the memories of last night’s memory surfaced. The conversation, quiet moments, and then the emptiness when he realized you had left. He sat back on the couch, staring at the ceiling as a sense of longing settled over him, a quiet ache that wasn’t so easily stretched away.

A small bark drew his attention to Leo, who was sitting nearby, watching him with an endearing tilt of his head, and noticing Charles’ contemplative state. He smiled and reached out, calling Leo over.

“What do you think, Leo? It was one strange night, huh?” Leo padded over gently, wagging his tail as Charles scooped him up, holding him close.

For a few minutes, Charles simply enjoyed and basked in the warmth of Leo in his arms, the familiar comfort that Leo offered in the midst of all the strange, unexplainable things that he was feeling. Last night had been a fever dream for him, but he knew that it was real, that it happened.

“Do you think it’s strange? Wanting to see her again?” he added. Leo just responded with a quiet, comforting look and nestled close to Charles.

After a while, curiosity began to gnaw at him. Charles could not shake the desire to know more about you, as to why he felt this pull, this connection that seemed impossible and yet so real. He padded into his bedroom, grabbed his laptop and settled in, typing Celestial Angels into the search bar. Countless articles, myths, and even fiction flooded his screen. Charles sifted through several pages, skipping over anything that seemed overly romanticized or far-fetched, until one article caught his eye.

The article spoke of Celestial Angels who formed deep bonds with their humans, describing how they acted as protectors, watchers, and guides. It mentioned the rare connection that could occur, a phenomenon where an angel might become so deeply intertwined with a human soul that they developed a sense of longing or even love, something that was both a blessing and a curse for the Celestial. As he read further, Charles could not help but wonder if this was what he had experienced, if this was the reason he kept seeing you, why he felt such a pull toward you.

Charles then stumbled upon a book: The Celestials by an author named Celestine Williams. The cover featured a faint, ethereal image of a figure wrapped in light, the silhouette barely discernible, much like he imagined you, and the description noted that it explored the stories and folklore surrounding Celestials and their interactions with humans, a deep dive book. The reviews were glowing, a few feedbacks talking about how the book shed light on the mysteries of these beings and the unique connections they could form. Without a second thought, Charles clicked buy, hoping the book would give him a glimpse into your world, something that might help him understand you much better.

Charles then returned his attention back to the article. But his focus kept drifting, thoughts of you had surfaced in his mind unbidden, wondering where you were right now, what you might be doing, if you were watching over someone else or wandering through some hidden place unknown to humans. The pull to see you, to call you, was growing stronger by the second, becoming a quiet ache that settled deep in his chest.

He set the laptop aside, exhaling as he mulled over the idea. Charles remembered what you had told him when he needed you—that he could call you by lighting a match or a lighter, a summon that would draw you to him. He doesn't know if it would even work, or if you would even come, but the need to see you was already overriding any doubts that he has. So he then grabbed a small lighter that he kept somewhere hidden in his kitchen and went to his living room, sitting down on the couch with Leo curled up beside him.

Charles knew it was kind of absurd, like it was something straight out of a fairy tale of a late-night ghost story, but last night, you had told him that if he wanted to see you, all he had to do was light a flame and call out to you. A part of him, the rational side, wanted to shrug it off as nonsense. But then the other part of him had witnessed things that were impossible and felt that strange connection to you, urging him to at least give it a try.

“Am I really fucking doing this?” he murmured, looking down at Leo for approval. But Leo just looked at him, with a face that said ‘what’s the harm in trying?’ “Ah, fuck it.”

Finally, with a deep breath, he flicked the lighter on, watching the tiny flame flame dance as he whispered out to you, a barely audible plea for you to return. The flame flickered as he called out to you, then he blew it out gently, his eyes lingering on the wisp of smoke that rose and faded. His heart was pounding, unsure if should expect an immediate response or if he had simply made a wish to the empty air.

A hush settled over the quiet living room, and for a moment, nothing really happened. Charles felt a pang of disappointment, even a touch of embarrassment at how eager he was and had hoped. He let out a disheartening chuckle, letting out a quiet sight right after, and lowering the lighter, thinking that maybe he had been mistaken or that the depth of the bond he felt was just his pure imagination.

Just as he stood up, about to return the lighter back into the kitchen, Charles felt a shift in the air, a delicate, almost undetectable shimmer, like a faint breeze brushing across his skin. He looked up, and there you were, standing in the soft morning light, an almost imperceptible glow framing your presence. The world seemed to pause, the weight of the day fading away as he took in the sight of you. You stood there, a soft, otherworldly light around you, the faintest hint of warmth in your eyes as you looked at him. Charles felt his breath hitching, he had not realized how much he missed seeing you until now. He began feeling a strange mix of relief and happiness.

“You called for me?” you asked softly, your voice like a distant melody.

Charles nodded, suddenly feeling a little bit embarrassed, but unable to look away at you. “I…I did, I hope it’s okay. I just…” he paused, fumbling over his words. “I wanted to see if it works, and to see you again. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“You’re allowed to call for me, Charles. That’s why I told you how you can reach for me.” you smiled gently, a warmth in your expression that seemed to reach him despite your distance.

“I’ve been reading about Celestial Angels, trying to understand.” he let out a soft chuckle, placing his hands inside of his pockets, feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I came across all these stories about angels who…form connections with their humans.” Charles looked down, collecting his thoughts.

“I guess I just wanted to understand what we have. Why do you keep on appearing, and why does it feel like I know you, even though I don’t really.” he added.

“The connection between an angel and their human isn’t something that happens every day. It’s rare, something beyond explanation.” your expression softened, and took a slow step forward, closing the gap between you. “We’re not supposed to form attachments, but sometimes, it’s as if the universe allows it, just for a moment.”

“So…it’s real, then? I’m not imagining it at all?” his gaze never leaving you, but filled with curiosity.

“No, Charles,” you shook your head. “You’re not imagining it. It’s real. You were always different, even from the first time I saw you.”

“I don’t know what this all means, but I want to understand.” he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, voice quiet, and a raw honesty was lacing his tone as he held your gaze.

“Sometimes, understanding isn’t possible, not in a way humans desire. Some things simply are.” you said quietly.

You then placed a hand near his, close enough that Charles could almost feel your presence, but not quite touching. The silence stretched, rich and weighty, filled with words left unsaid. Finally, he managed a faint smile.

“Thank you. For you know, for coming.” Charles said softly.

“For you, I always will.” you replied, smiling at him.

taglist : @charlesgirl16 , @chloes-book-corner , @wierdflowerpower

[acynicalsweetheart]

LOVE IS A LOSING GAME

pairing: pre-tulpar!curly x fem!reader

word count: 3.0k

content warning: age gap (curly's in his 30s), established relationship, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, sex, tummy bulge, mentions of pregnancy, mild obsession/dependency, sort of sappy and soft here and there… canon events of mouthwashing do take place after this

author's note: hi… still nervous to death about posting even if i already shared this on my ao3. i think i yapped enough there so yah. first fic + smut ever btw LOL that's why it's so.. lack lustre. supposed to be the last day before his tulpar departure. any interaction appreciated! inspired by softer softest from rimqueen on here .

It’s the last day.

The last day, if your star-crossed streak strikes again, you’ll ever see your Curly. You don’t want him to leave, why would you? Most importantly, why would he? His job is proclaimed to be your full-time daddy, not up in the galaxy, not in the middle of spacefuck nowhere. 

It’s five minutes past seven pm. Five minutes past the time he was supposed to be home. Of course you’re worried sick, what if he left early? To the ship, that is. You’re just pacing, anxiously turning your engagement ring left and right, the one Curly got you. The one that sits painfully cold and tight around your finger, not pleasant the way it does when he’s home—a reminder of his promise. Right now, it’s your only comfort, worrying with you as you overthink, flipping through all the reasons of why he isn’t home yet. 

You don’t trust that strange guy he always hangs out with, that shady type. His name leaves a bad taste in your mouth every time you say it. Every time you hear someone else say it. What if Jimmy’s the one who took your Curly away? He looks like he would. You can’t stand the way he looks like a wet and grumpy street cat living amongst dumpster trash. Your daddy is nowhere near dumpster trash, you truly don’t understand what he sees in him. He’s fond of Jimmy in a way that makes this dark-black cloud of jealousy settle snugly in your heart. 

The fact that he’s going to be up there with him and not you, for twelve and a half months—more than a year, that isn’t right. If you got pregnant today, you’d have to raise your baby all alone. Curly says he’s going to marry you when he gets back. All you hope is just that he does get back. 

You’ve got a Curly-shaped itch between your legs that only his dick can reach. 

Seven minutes past seven pm is when you hear keys jingling outside the front door. Seven is certainly not your lucky number. You’re on him the second he steps in, jumping up into his lap, lips smashing onto his before he can even inhale. Curly grabs onto you like it’s his instinct to do so. Has it been seven minutes or seven years? 

“Daddy!” You cup his face in your hands, stubble grazing your palms, almost wanting to shake some sense into his head, eyes searching for his. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry, honey, I—“ Curly’s voice is quickly muffled by your lips again, you just couldn’t resist shutting him up with another kiss. 

In your defence, he shouldn’t have come home looking that kissable and that fuckable. 

“Thought I’d lost you...” it’s a breathy admission, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones like he’s the most precious porcelain doll. You hug him tightly, gripping onto the fabric of his clothes and hope that maybe, just maybe, you’ll both be frozen like this forever. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he chuckles reassuringly, bouncing you up and down the way he should be doing on his cock. “Daddy was getting fitted for his new suit, took a few more minutes than expected.”

You hadn’t even noticed that he was wearing it. Frankly, you don’t care what he’s wearing—you need it off, and you need it off now. 

“Yeah?” You ask as you pull back, taking another moment to look at him. 

“Yeah, fits like a glove,” Curly replies, seemingly way too proud. 

Like he is completely oblivious to the fact that he’s a walking, talking, living and comically oversized sex doll. Makes your stomach pool with the most uncomfortable cocktail of worry and arousal. How many people are gonna see him in that? Either way, you need to fit him like a glove. Right now, as a matter of fact. 

“Well, I missed you.” You pout, absentmindedly smoothing down the collar of his uniform. 

“Missed you more,” Curly noses at your cheek, saying that like he’s sure of it. 

“Then take me to bed,” it’s but a simple phrase, yet it makes Curly blush all the same, even at his age. 

“Alright, baby. As you wish.”

You drench Curly’s face and neck in kisses while he carries you to bed, hopefully getting him just as turned on as you are. Although you think you take the cake, you’ve been pining for twelve hours straight, since he left for work this morning. It’s hard, not being able to last one day without fucking the shit out of him. 

Curly sits on the edge of the bed, but you want him in the middle of it. You want it to be special, to honour the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that keeps telling you it might be the last time. You want it to be your very own, personal romance movie—starring nobody else aside from you and Curly. 

You straddle him, legs struggling a little to fit on each side of his, hovering over the spacious and sparsely golden-haired expanse of his thighs. You’d like to ride them sometime, feel what it’s like to get them sticky with your juices. There’s so many things you want to do with Curly, do to Curly. So many things you might never get the chance to do.

His hands settle on your hips for the moment.

You unbutton his uniform, actively working against your lack of self-control to not just rip it off. You unbutton it like there’s time, like Curly isn’t leaving tomorrow, like it isn’t fully probable that this is the last time you’ll ever see each other. 

Button after button, the blond tufts of ocean waves on his chest reveal, getting sparser and darker to the trail down to the marbles of his stomach. You can’t get enough of him, his majestic fucking stallion face, flushed cheeks, huge tits, ridiculously big dick; everything that makes Curly, Curly. 

You need him so badly you can almost taste it. Taste him. Somewhere in your reddening, quickening heart, you hope that he needs you just as badly. 

“Daddy,” you start, but he’s already undressing, tugging the uniform down his legs. 

“I know, baby.” Curly leans in to peck your cheek, makes quick work of taking off your nightie. 

He unclasps your bra the same way he’s done a million times before, leaving it on top of the pile of shed clothes. He pulls your panties off, helping you lift one of your legs after the other. Curly even takes off your fuzzy socks. 

Your pussy’s crying out for your daddy, leaking onto his boxers and darkening the fabric. You’re soaked to the bone, stripped to the bone, all for him. 

You’re the one who leans in to kiss him again, shivering when he moves a hand to the nape of your neck, keeping your hair from spilling onto your naked frame. Curly’s other hand smooths down your side before his roughened fingertips find your swollen clit.

If your pussy could talk, it’d be screaming how badly it needs daddy. 

Curly touches you gingerly, his kisses swallowing every noise you make. He never outruns the achingly slow and gentle way he touches you in, doing it all so softly as if you’d break if he did it in any other manner. 

He buries his face in your neck, peppering kisses up and down, lips lingering on the spots he knows feel good for you. But Curly doesn’t bite, doesn’t suck, doesn’t leave a mark like you want him to. He doesn’t leave anything to show that you’re his—that he’s yours. 

The circles against your bud are doing numbers even if his touch is nothing but ghosting, tickling the nerves. Your hips buck to meet his touch, craving the feel of his fingertips on every millimeter of your clit the same way anybody craves anything.

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispers knowingly, lips brushing against your ear. “Cum for daddy.”

It twitches under the pads of his fingers, eyes fluttering shut at the tingles starting in your toes and making their way up to your loins. Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent moons. Something little to show that he belongs to you. 

You tense up, head hanging low as you cum with a needy whine, translucent stickiness dripping down your daddy’s fingers and your thighs. Your legs are trembling, but it’s not nearly enough. 

“Need you inside, daddy,” you state the obvious before Curly even has time to tell you how much of a good girl you are, movements a little clumsy as you start pawing at the giant bulge underneath you. 

You can’t really tell if the wet spot on the midnight fabric is caused by him or you. 

“Shh... I’ll give it to my baby.” Curly places a tender kiss to your temple, his bigger hand covering yours, pulling down his boxers and finally letting his cock spring free. 

He tugs them all the way off while you gawk at him as if it’s the first time you’ve seen him naked. It’s thick all the way around, sticky in a way only pussies are—pink like his lips, his nipples, his cheeks when you embarrass him or kiss him in all the right places. Curly’s tip is reddish in moments like this, the colour creating the most erotic opalescent transition to his base and patch of golden curls. 

You take Curly in your hand, smiling at the heaviness weighing it down. His breath hitches once you give it a few idle strokes, sliding his leaky head against your leaky slit before lining the perfect pair up. 

The stretch never gets old, it’s painful yet familiar—something you’re used to after all this time. Curly helps you slowly sink down onto his fat cock, guiding you inch by inch, grunt by grunt, with his hands on your waist until he’s all the way inside you. He’s so big that his tip nearly breaches your cervix.

You feel him all too well, every vein, every ridge, every shape no matter the size. Every pulse and heartbeat—consuming your love through the tightness enveloping him, milking him for all he’s worth. 

But you fit around him like you were made for him. 

You waste no time starting to move your hips, the slick, slick, slick already echoing throughout the room from your wetness, watching daddy’s dick bulging through your tummy. 

Curly’s hands shift around your body, keeping you close to him by your shoulders one moment, guiding your hips back and forth the other. It’s not long before he starts humping you back. 

“You’re taking me so well, princess,” he pants, voice whiny as he places open-mouthed kisses all over your chest. “Taking daddy’s cock so deep.”

You brush his hair back, the shorter curls falling onto his damp forehead, take in his kiss-bruised and red lips as he keeps panting—and you think Curly’s never looked prettier. Never looked more like your daddy, yours and only yours. 

Tilting his head up to meet your eyes, you can’t help yourself, “I need you, Curly.”

The only time you ever call him Curly is in public. The only eyes watching are his, taking in your expression—your brows that are pinched together and tears that are threatening to spill over your waterlines. 

“Baby, don’t cry, ‘m right here.” He pulls you impossibly closer, sweaty bodies sticking together in a naked and tangled lotus flower. 

“Don’t go,” it comes out shaky - unsure if it’s ‘cause of the way your clit keeps brushing against him for every hump, or if it’s the sadness that sits just as snugly in your throat the way his dick does in your pussy. 

“I’m sorry,” Curly’s moans leak into his voice, “I have to. You know I’d never leave you.”

“What if it’s the last time, Curly? What if you don’t come back?” 

“Fuck, baby,” his cock stirs inside you, rubbing against your sweet, spongy spot. “Don’t talk like that, won’t be the last time. I’ll come back, you know I will.”

It’s a momentary comfort, words he can’t even be sure he’ll keep, your pussy squeezing him tighter than ever at the thought. You feel your second orgasm slowly building up in the confines of your tummy, the white-hot rush you can’t be sure is adrenaline or neediness running through your body. 

“Promise me, Curly.” Your legs tense shut around him. 

“I promise,” from him is all it takes to send you over the edge, waves of pleasure washing over you like a tsunami, sucking him in deeper as the coil in you snaps. 

You whine in tandem, noises blending together in a pornographic orchestra. Only difference is that Curly’s desperate to cum. You’re desperate for him to stay. He moves his hips up, you move yours back and forth.

“Oh, baby...” he says under his breath, struggling to maintain a steady rhythm. “I love you.”

“I love you, Curly.” You press your clammy forehead against his, breaths mingling as you pant into each other’s mouths. 

It makes his thrusts stiffen momentarily, his dark blond lashes fluttering like butterfly wings as he tries his best to keep his eyes on yours. Curly’s moans are breathless, his cock twitching against your walls, followed by the sticky, long-awaited warmth of his cum spilling into you. 

You keep up your pace, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste, hips grinding against his like you’ve got something to prove—which you do. “Want your babies, Curly.”

He winces, holds back another whine, you kind of feel bad for wearing his dick out like this, wringing his balls of every single last drop of seed. But he doesn’t tell you no, not ever, he’d beat around the bush if it meant not seeing the look of a kicked puppy on your face after not getting what you want. Regarding everything apart from his work, from tomorrow. 

“You will, honey. We’ll have as many as you want, okay?” 

Curly holds you until your movements go slack, bonelessly slumping against him. He lays you down, pulls out with a quiet, sticky pop, his cum trickling out of you - much to your dismay. Your pussy feels empty without him inside you, like it’s missing a crucial part of its anatomy. 

You’re both staring at the wall, his head resting against your chest, fingers tangled in his post-sex messy curls, massaging his scalp. You wonder what Curly’s thinking of, if he’s thinking of you. You wonder if there’s a certain spot that’d act like a key if you massaged it good enough, make him unlock and tell you all his secrets. All the things running through his mind. 

“Don’t leave me, Curly. Just another day, okay? Tell them you’re sick or something... don’t wanna lose you.” 

You stick out your pinky finger for him to grab, dwarfing it when he does. Curly doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a promise, doesn’t look you in the eyes. Just holds onto it, silently—like he knows he’ll let you down just as well as you do. 

And so you get dressed together, cook dinner together, sit bunched up on the couch together watching a shitty vintage drama about the Civil War just to make him happy. The question is if it’s all enough. 

He’s so okay with everything. 

It’s probably light on Curly—not having to see your worried face, quivering lips, stressed-out state. You wonder if he’ll even call, if they’re even allowed to call, if he even wants to call. 

You have a bad feeling about all of it. Not just that he could get lost in space, floating amongst the junk up there like that’s all he’ll ever be. It’s not only jealousy that sears in you, it’s this inexplicable feeling that you’ll never see him again. Like he might die. Or like you might die. From Curly withdrawal.

Who could go more than a year without seeing the love of their life? 

You wait for Curly in bed, wait for him like he is a million miles away already, somewhere in the galaxy even if he’s just in the other room. 

Your gaze drifts to the pile of clothes on the floor, memories of you and him tangled right here, on this very bed, flooding your mind in a way that is all too welcome—mildly bothersome. Your panties, his suit. 

That stupid fucking pony and its Pony Express logo ironed to the chest of his uniform. 

You want to hide it, tear it, incinerate it. If you did, Curly wouldn’t have anything to wear to work tomorrow. Knowing him, he’d probably show up regardless, but you wish there was a sliver of hope that he wouldn’t. Wouldn’t put it on, leave you, show up. 

You just let it lie there, on the floor—where it belongs. 

But he holds you all the same, lets his big arms lull you to sleep when the room’s pitch black and the smell of sex lingers faintly in the air. 

“Sweet dreams, my darling girl,” is lazily murmured into your hair, the scent of Curly comfortably overbearing as his frame eclipses yours. Is that going to be the last you ever hear of him?

“Night, daddy.” 

You dream of him, not unlike every other night. You’re married, you have babies, Jimmy’s out of the picture. Curly’s a baker, brings you home stupid and puffy pastries, and he’s too good at it. Too good at being your husband, at making you feel loved, at being homely in the way that suits him so perfectly. You fall asleep with this empty feeling imprisoning your heart—keeping it locked up behind bars until he’s unconditionally yours. 

The entire thing is too good to be true. 

Curly’s gone in the morning, he left you with nothing besides a dull ache between your legs and a pink post-it stuck to the bedside table. The cold metal of your ring sits mockingly mean and tight around your finger, strangling it so tight it cuts off your blood circulation. It’s a brazen reminder of your Curly, his promises. The fact that he may never come back. You wonder if he’ll ever be your daddy again—if he’ll ever be anybody else’s daddy. 

Your pregnancy test lies face down, two stripes for positive in the trash. 

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#13. Falling Deep and Down

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe / kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/ Angst / INFIDELITY /NO SMUT (This is a warning)

Word count- 17k ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

a/n- Firstly, HAPPY NEW YEAR BABIES!!!! (I know I'm late but it still counts). Secondly, yay!!! the first chapter of the new year and I finally managed to make it shorter than the previous one. And hell this one took so long. I'm so sorry for the long wait. I hope you'd enjoy the chapter, though. I'd say this chapter is the calm before the storm. That's why there's no SMUT (Sorry @jimincrystal this is one of those unavoidable situations. Otherwise I'd have ended up writing 30K+ words). So, happy readings guys. (Thank you for reading like always ❤️)

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Chapter Index

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You sit in Kim’s kitchen. Eyes glued to your phone. You’ve watched this same video repeatedly at least dozens of times now. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You’re not surprised at all to say the least. You completely expected to find a video floating all around the internet as soon as you woke up this morning. That’s such a normal thing in this era. People usually post the most mundane things. Hence, there’s no surprise they posted a woman getting slapped in a crowded club. But still, you know that they didn’t post it because of you. Whoever recorded the video did it because of Liya. And Jimin. And all the other high profiles there.

The good thing is, however, that the video isn’t clear. You can’t really make out who’s slapping who. Both yours and Liya’s faces are completely hidden from the frame. And the quality is shittier than a VHS tape left on a rain. The videographer was either clearly drunk or didn’t know how to use the video feature. And you haven’t found any other video than this one. It’s surprising. You’d call it mere luck. But then it doesn’t make it any less of a problem. Even though you and Liya are hidden from the frame- surrounded by so many people- you can still make out Jimin’s and Jin’s face quite clearly. That makes you want to pull your hair. Can’t even imagine the ruckus this must be causing for them. Not that you can be of any help. You’re the one who caused all these problems in the first place.

“Anything interesting there?” You snap your eyes away from your phone screen to look at Mrs. Kim. Sitting next to you and peeling onions. “You’ve been watching that for a quiet some time now.” She explains further. It’s still early morning and there’s no business for you here. You should be getting ready for work, if anything.

Hell, no.

There’s no way you would go to work after all that. You’re beyond humiliated. You will not do the walk of shame. Mrs. Kim has been nagging you for a better thirteen minutes now. Asking why you are not going to work, but you’ve managed to brush off her questions. It seems like her questions aren’t over. You open your mouth wearily to tell her that it’s nothing when your phone is snatched away from you.

“Yah…” You mumble tiredly. Not even fully turning around to face Jungkook, who pocketed your phone instantly.

“I told you to stop watching the stupid video. What would you gain from watching it hundred times? it’s not like you gonna find anything new. It’s the same old shit every time.” He scolds you before turning around to mind his work. Apart from you, Jungkook is another person who has no business being here. He has classes. He needs to leave. Yet he doesn’t. Refuses to leave you alone as if you’d do something stupid. Well, what can you say? He’s Jeon Jungkook.

He won’t leave you alone. Hasn’t been since the very moment he walked you out of the club. He was there when you practically bite off your thumbs while you were on a cab. He was the one who yanked your hands away when you accidentally hurt yourself and started bleeding. He had panicked to see you bleeding as if it was your head instead of your finger. He was the one who instantly pulled you into his embrace when you finally broke apart. It was funny how you tried to keep it all inside, but it all burst out when you saw yourself bleeding. It was just a teeny wound, but you used that as an excuse. You cried and cried and cried. Wailed. Like you’ve lost someone who’s so dear to you. The case is that you really felt like that. You cried because you felt like you lost Jimin. Because of the humiliation. Because of the self-pity. In the end, there was Jungkook- holding you tight, mumbling soothing words in your ear. There was Jungkook, who refused to let you go. Who pulled you into his lap disregarding the cab driver. He had held you and rocked you. Until you managed to pull yourself together again. He was there the entire time and he’s still here.

“Give it back Kookie.” You turn around in your seat wearily. You’re absolutely exhausted from all the crying. Mentally wearied off that you’re barely even functioning.

“No. You’re gonna watch the same shit again.” He ignores you completely. You sigh heavily. You need your phone back. Not just to watch the video and feel the same hot embarrassment over again. No. You need it to see if Jimin has texted you. See now, you know that is so fucked up. After everything that happened. After Jimin walked after Liya and had watched you walk away with his hands around her. After the slap you received, you still want to hear from Jimin. At this rate, it just isn’t for satisfying your greedy self, however. You need to know whether he is okay. You need to know how it went. Not with Liya but with the video.

“You need to attend your classes. C’mon, you can leave me. I’ll be fine with Mrs. Kim.” You glance over at the said woman. She furrows her brows at Jungkook. Clicks her tongue.

“Are you skipping classes young man? Should I call your mom?” There’s a very serious warning look on her face. You would’ve laughed at that if it wasn’t for your zombie like state. Jungkook gives you a sneaky but disapproving look.

“I have no classes. Don’t worry darling, I’m gonna make you proud in the end. I’m better than Joonie. You know it.” Says dismissively. Winks at the poor woman and of course she eats the bait. You try to open your mouth but the sudden sound of kitchen door opening interrupts you. The new recruit- a young boy who stole your table wiping duties- appears on the doorway.

“There’s someone to meet you.” He awkwardly mumbles while gesturing at you. Your heart skips a beat instantly before it picks up the rhythm of beating. Weariness you were feeling, suddenly evaporating into thin air as you looks up at the boy with wide eyes. There’s someone to meet you. And that someone can very well be Park Jimin. Hope bubbles inside you. Only for it to pop out at his next words. “I- uh- I think that’s your sister. You two look alike.” He scratches his head stupidly. A heavy sigh leaves past your lips. That’s in disappointment. You feel so disappointed that even your eyes prick with new tears.

“You got to be kidding me.” You whip your head toward Jungkook at his sudden voice. Just in time to catch him, throw his apron away. Is already walking toward the door.

Oh, no!

You practically jump onto your feet. Startling poor Mrs. Kim as she watches you with wide eyes. You don’t pay her any mind as you sprint after Jungkook. Storming past the new boy who looks equally startled as Mrs. Kim. You have no idea how Jungkook moves that fast but when you enter the dining area, he is already face to face with a calm Liya. Staring her down. Or glaring her down.

“You’re not welcomed here.” Jungkook grits his teeth. You notice how tight his jaw is as you make it to his side.

“Jungkook!” You grab his arm. Try to make him turn away from Liya to no avail. He’s like a boulder. Doesn’t even budge. Yet Liya’s eyes fall on you instantly. For a brief moment before she looks back at Jungkook.

“Yeah? I don’t think I’ve done anything to be on the blacklist. Besides, you’re no one to put the CEO of The SE in a blacklist boy. So, if you just care to step aside─” Liya’s eyes shift from Jungkook to you again. She forces a smile which looks more like a sneer. “─ I’m here to have a word with my sweet sister.” Completes her sentence. Only that it makes Jungkook steps to his side, however. Completely guarding you from her view. You groan annoyingly. No one hears it.

“I don’t care if you’re damn CEO or the fucking president. Get your fucking ass out while I’m nice Ms. Kim." Jungkook is oozing venom. It’s weird to see him mad.

“Jungkook please.” You try again. Step away so you can see Liya again.

“Yes, Jungkook, listen to your little owner. Stop trying to be her guard dog since she looks like capable of doing lots of things without your help.” Liya gives Jungkook a mocking smile.

Okay, that’s it.

She can mock you all the much she wants. Can slap you, yell at you, publicly humiliate you, or anything else that makes her feel good. But she isn’t bringing Jungkook into this. No. This is where you won’t be just listening.

“He has nothing to do with this, Liya. Please, just leave him out of it.” You step forward. Bringing yourself to your full height. Your voice sharp. “You wanted to see me, what is it?” This time you manage to drag Jungkook an inch back.

“Noona!” He whisper yells. You just give him a stern look. He reads you well. Liya scoffs. Eyes shifting between you and Jungkook.

“Well, look at you. How sweet. Sticking for each other. You’re damn lucky sis.” Sighs. “And yes, I wanted to meet you. Hope, you’re not busy fucking someone else’s boyfriend.”

“Fucking leave!” Jungkook nearly plunges forward before you catch him. Turning around blocking his path. Place your palm on his chest. Looks at his face. He looks furious. Doesn’t look at you right away. But when he does, his features softens immediately.

“It’s fine Jungkook. Please. Let me handle this.” You mutter softly. Looks at him expectantly. For a moment, it looks like he would dare to kick Liya out of the restaurant. Then after a long second, just sighs. Takes a step back.

“Fine, but if she tries to hit you again, I want you to give her a blue eye.” Pouts at you. Apparently, doesn’t give a fuck about the fact that Liya can hear him. Waits until you agree. He can be insufferable sometimes. Yet you nod anyway.

……………………………………….

You patiently sit at a corner table at Kim’s. Where nobody in the kitchen can hear you. Since it’s still morning and there’s no breakfast serving, the entire restaurant is free of any patrons. Liya just blinks at your face. Her expression is calm and somewhat smug. It makes you want to scream. Curiosity and anxiety are eating you inside out. Whatever is the reason for her visit, you know that can’t be any good. You really wish you could snap at her. Ask her ‘what the fuck she wants’. Unfortunately for you, you can’t do something like that. Not when you feel like shrinking into a shrimp. Guilty. Ashamed. You can’t even look her in the eyes. You owe her the biggest apology. Yet you can’t bring yourself to do even that. It feels stupid. You need to try, though. She deserves at least that.

“Liya I-I’m so─”

“Don’t. I’m not here so you can apologize and find peace.”

You close your mouth which you opened to do just that. A wave of embarrassment ripples through you at her tone. Dismissive. Condescending. Your cheeks grow hot. It’d feel nice to be able to talk back. Defend yourself. How unfortunate that you’ve lost any right to do so.

“Then why are you here Liya? You gonna pay me to stay away from your boyfriend?” You mutter wearily. The exhaustion finding its way back to you. You have no energy to do this. Not now anyway. You know you’re wrong. You know you’re the biggest lying bitch. Yet you’re also human who feels drained off. You have to bite back the urge to cry hard.

Liya takes a minute. As if she’s processing your words as you keep eyeing her. Then all of a sudden, she crackles up with laughter. So loud that you recoil in your chair. Her giggles, which are like sweet venom, fill the entire space. For the people in the kitchen this might seem like an adorable moment for two sisters. Except for Jungkook, of course. You gape at her with an open mouth as she keeps laughing like you’ve made the biggest joke of the year. Okay, this is getting out of hand now. It is one thing not to be able to fight back when you’re the one who’s guilty. Still, it’s completely another to getting demeaned this way. You clench your teeth hard to keep your exhaustion and pain from turning into anger. It won’t get you anywhere. You need to be patient. And luckily it doesn’t take long. Liya puffs out a breath shortly after. Trying to sober from her blown out laughter.

“That was funny.” She croaks. You remain silent. You deserve this shit after all. You brought this on yourself. “Why would you ever think that I would pay. For you. To stay. Away from my boyfriend?” She leans forward to look you dead in the eye. “That’s so funny to even think. You’re the bitch here and you think I should pay you?”

“I didn’t say that Liya.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. Not wanting to bide your time with this woman. Yes, you’re wrong and you know that. Still, it doesn’t mean you have to do this. “All I’m asking is to get done with your business. Why are you here?” Liya’s smile vanishes at that.

“Okay, I like that you still have some nerves to act like you have any rights to do so.” Shrugs. You will yourself to stay calm. “So, how long are you gonna stay here? It’s like all my advice have been fallen into deaf ears. I asked you to leave as soon as you can sissy, you didn’t listen. Now look where we are. Look at the mess you have created. Do you have any idea how much trouble it caused us? Caused Jimin?” She raises one of her brows. You gulp harshly. That’s the part you’ve been afraid of. It caused Jimin problems. You feel your heart shatter.

“I- uh…” You try in vain to say something. You can’t. So, you just downcast your eyes to your lap. Heart heavy with guilt.

“Look, like I told you earlier, I really don’t want to fight with myself. Despite everything we’re still two versions of the same person. I mean it’s crazy how different we are, like I will never do something that cheap you know—” That condescending, smug smile finds its way back on her face. “—It’s cheap, what you did.” Adds. You shut your eyes for a moment.

Stay calm. Stay fucking calm.

If Jungkook ever heard that, he’d really hit Liya without caring for the fact that she’s a woman. But you need to remain calm. It’s your fault. It’s your wrongdoing. “But still, I hope we have at least some things in common.” Liya continues. “Like I expect that you want to preserve whatever still left in your dignity. I hope you’re smart. So, lil sis, I hope you’ll find this a chance to do the right thing.” You hate that she calls you sister. Why would she do that? To make you feel worse. You force yourself to look at her.

“If it isn’t for you, at least do it for the others. Like you have no idea how much of a damage you’re causing in Jimin’s life just because you’re wet.” You flinch at the word. Liya keeps going. “I think you’ve become friends with everyone. So, in that case, it’s safe to think that you won’t want to cause them harm now, will you? You don’t know how hard boys worked for the company. How much time and money they poured into it. And this?” She gestures at you. “A single mistake is enough to ruin everything. Jimin will lose everything and so will his friends. And I really wish you’re not someone who’d be that selfish.” Tilts her head. It takes you a second to realize that she’s expecting an answer from you.

“Wh-what do you want me to do? Just because you ask, I can’t stop coming here. It’s going to happen whether I like it or not.” You refrain from telling her the part where you only have a year. That’s none of her business. Liya smiles softly.

“That’s a shame but no. That’s not what I’m asking. All I’m asking is for you to stay away. It’s not that hard now, is it? If you really want to get- uh- lemme be straightforward- dicked down that badly—” She points toward the kitchen with her thumb. “Let me tell you that boy there would be more than glad to give you what you want.”

“Keep. Him. Out of it Liya.” You grit your teeth for the first time since she arrived. She chuckles at your glare.

“Okay. Whatever you want. It’s up to you anyway. What I want is for you to stay away. From Jimin and the company.” Her voice turns serious back again. “It’s not just my relationship with Jimin that you’re ruining. You’re ruining his career and future. All for what? A bliss that you could live for couple months until you inevitably return. Jimin would have to face all the consequences alone. Don’t be that selfish. You might be a little college girl who still doesn’t understand how harsh the world is. So, let me teach you sweety, it’s not one of those romance novels you read and Jimin isn’t a prince who’s going to sacrifice his career for you either. In the end, you’re going to ruin everyone’s life. Stay away. Resign.” With that she gets to her feet. The chair scrapes against the floor at the force she does that. “And listen to my words while I’m still being nice. Don’t think it’s just a mere coincidence that there is only one video and our faces aren’t clear. We had to go through hell to get everything cleared up.” Turns around.

Well, that makes perfect sense. And it makes sense why you’re not in any pain either. If your faces were clear in that video, people could’ve been confused who’s Liya. That certainly could’ve put you in pain. But you’re not in pain. Unless you don’t consider the way your heart aches right now. At what she said. At the implication. At how true every word she uttered. You’re a saboteur. A selfish bitch who ruined everything. You look up at her with glassy eyes. Of course, she is telling the truth, and you need to do as she asks. Liya is a smart woman, she had hit the nail right on the head. You would’ve thrown all the care out of the window when it comes to you, but you care about Jimin too much. Care about Hoseok. Taehyung. Seokjin. Care about each and every one. So, you will heed her words. Still, however, there has been a question that had made your head hurt to think.

“You suspected, didn’t you? There’s no way you could’ve been so oblivious.” Your voice comes out hoarse. Liya stops and partially turn around. She knows what you’re implying at.

“Of course, I did. I’m no fool. You two were too close. Emi always let me know how much time you spent in his office.”

“Then why?” You press your fingers into your thighs. “Why caused so much commotion if you knew?”

“No. I didn’t know. That’s completely two different things. I suspected. That’s it and I’m not happy to be found out that my suspicions were right. It hurt me. You know, I may not look like it, but I care about Jimin. I was with him for five years. And I will not allow anything or anyone to change it. To answer your question, that’s none of your business. Just know that everything I do have valid reasons. I don’t play for fun. I play for win.”

Her boyfriend.

You don’t stop her this time. Just watch her disappear with a blurry gaze. She steps out from the door at the same time when Jungkook enters. You don’t look at his face. Just because you want to hide your tears. He says nothing either. Places your phone in front of you on the table before sitting next to you. Pulls you into his embrace and you let him.

You wait that way until you finally feel like you can breathe again. Until Mrs. Kim calls out for Jungkook. So, you reassure him you’re fine. Wait till he’s gone to unlock your phone. Not knowing what you’re going to do when a new notification catches your attention. A new message.

I’m so sorry Spring Roll. Please don’t be mad at me. Let’s talk today? Meet me at my office, I’ll wait for you. – Park.

……………………………….

You truly didn’t want to do this. Not at all. Yet after sitting alone at the empty table for hours. Almost until the place started to fill with patrons, you came to a decision. Liya was absolutely right. You played with fire and nearly got everyone burnt in that. Not that you ever wished for it. Not even in your dreams that you wanted to cause any harm to Park Jimin or his friends. Now, though, since you have nearly come to it, this is your cue to finally do something about it. Grow up. Prove that you’re not a naïve college girl even though that’s who you are. You need to take responsibility for your actions. You need to apologize to people who deserve that. And lastly you need to step away from their lives and accept that yours is not a fairy tale even if it’s so full of wonders.

That’s your reason for being back here again in the RUN building. You are going to do it properly and end this. You are going to meet Hoseok and resign. Are going to apologize to him. To Taehyung and Seokjin. And of course, you are going to do the same with Park Jimin. You clench your fists into tight balls at the thought of him. Digging crescents into your palms. It hurts to think what you’re about to do. You haven’t replied to his text. Didn’t feel the need to do so. You don’t know what you’re going to tell him. You don’t know what he’s planning to tell you. That doesn’t matter, however. Like Liya said, there’s no point in your sneaky games. It’s better if you build the guts to end it now before Jimin will do it sooner or later.

Jimin isn’t a prince who’s going to sacrifice his career for you either.

Yes. That’s it. This will be the last time you walk across this lobby. So, you steel yourself not to look around you. It’s not like all of these busy people might have seen the video or know what happened. Still, you feel like walking through a forest of eyes. As if everyone is looking at you and laughing. Whispering. In reality, you know that no one gives a damn. Even with that, however, your palms are extra sweaty as you run toward the elevator. The doors nearly close as you rush toward them. You become almost convinced that you missed it when someone inside hurriedly stretch their arm to open the doors back. You swiftly push yourself inside with a soft ‘thank you’ before you raise your head to meet your helper.

“Oh!” It leaves your mouth involuntarily as you’re met with the wide eyes of Taehyung.

“Hey!” He mumbles in return as you bow to him slightly. He does the same to you. Fortunately, or unfortunately it’s just you two in the elevator. You decide it’s the latter when an uncomfortable silence falls between you as Taehyung presses the button to your floor. It’s awkward. It was never awkward with Kim Taehyung. He’s a social butterfly who’d make small talk with a blank wall. This is a testament to how uncomfortable you have made him. Or not. “Um... are you okay?” He surprises you with those next words.

“Huh?” You gape at him stupidly.

“You know. The video and all those shits. Didn’t expect to see you at work today.”

“Oh, I- uh- I’m fine Taehyung. I mean as fine as I could be. And I’m not here to work. I’m resigning.” You blurt out. Taehyung’s eyes go wide again.

“Wait, what? Why? You don’t have to do that. I mean—”

“Really. Tae?” You almost laugh at that. “You think I don’t have to do that after everything?”

“Well, it’s personal, isn’t it? It has nothing to do with the work and we took care of everything else. And if this is about Liya, she holds no power over what we should do in our company. You can continue to work as long as you wish.”

You sigh heavily. “You need to stop doing that Tae. I don’t know what’s all of your guys’ problem with Liya. But you need to admit that this is wrong. I don’t know how good or bad Liya is- I mean to you, but this isn’t okay.”

“Well, I didn’t say you should keep it up with Jimin. I’m saying that you shouldn’t give up on your job because of that.” Taehyung knits his eyebrows. This is the most serious you’ve ever seen him. It doesn’t suit him.

“And you think we’ll not end up doing it again if we’re in the same vicinity.”

“Why? You can’t resist each other?” A smile creeps on his face. Makes you roll your eyes.

“Don’t go there Kim Taehyung. Not the time.”

“Sorry.” That smile disappears. Yet you still prefer it when he is unserious. “But still, Li, don’t do this because of it. Jimin won’t like it. I don’t want him to blame himself. He cares, you know.” Taehyung looks at you expectantly. As if he’s waiting for you to confirm it. Say that you know. Well, do you know that? Maybe. You’re not sure. So, you do nothing but just stare back at him. That makes Taehyung chuckles. Almost in a pitiful way. “Gosh, I really want him to be able to do something. To have a choice. To be able to say fuck it and do whatever he wants.” Taehyung shoves his hands in his pockets. Throws his head back. You won’t ask him why Jimin can’t do that. Because you know he can’t. That leaves you with the question why Taehyung can’t do it.

It’s funny how you and him never had a one-on-one serious conversation. You despised him when you first met him. Then when you started doing same morally gray shits as him, you slowly start to like him. Still, you never asked him why he does what he does. “Then why can’t you Taehyung? I’m sure you’re not bound to have responsibilities as much as Jimin. Why don’t you just say fuck it and do whatever you want?”

“I am doing it aren’t I? I live my life the way I want.”

“Do you? Your life is as fucked as mine or Jimin’s. C’mon, no offense, but your relationship with Seoyeon isn’t the best now, is it? You act like you can’t even stand being in the same room as her.” You’re not even joking here. Taehyung sure does appear like trying to run away from his girlfriend half the time. “Why? Like, why are you still in a relationship that you can’t stand? Why cheating around and still keep her with you?”

Taehyung shrugs. His face turns grim. “I don’t know. I just feel bad.”

“Bad about what?”

“Just breaking up with her. Seoyeon isn’t bad as she appears.” Well, you don’t think she’s bad at all. “I just don’t love her. Never did. I don’t know why I asked her to be my girlfriend in the first place and when I realized I fucked up, it was already too late. I just don’t know how to commit. I can’t do that. It drains me off. And now I feel bad to leave her alone.”

“And you don’t feel bad to cheat on her? I know I’m not the person who should say this but that’s not fair. Not to her and not to you either. If you want to live a liberating life, then you should do it the right way. She deserves to have everything in her life too. Someone who’d love her and you’re keeping her away from that. It’s worse than breaking up with her.”

Taehyung blinks at your face. Opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by the ding sound of elevator door opening. Well, you didn’t plan on having that conversation with Kim Taehyung. And you know you’re the last person who should give him moral advice. Yet you think yours and his situations are not entirely similar. You’re not the one who’s in a relationship. It’s Jimin. And you don’t know why Jimin fell into bed with you. You don’t know why he wanted to do it with you, especially when Liya and you are the same person. You don’t know what’s happening between Liya and Jimin. What makes them, them. All you know is that what you and Jimin did was a little escape from reality. Something that you both probably wanted. Maybe he was stressed, and you know your life was miserable. Now it’s time to end that. So, you just give Taehyung a final nod. Hoping he will not take offense to what you said. Puff out a breath as you look out through the elevator doors.

You planned different ways to do this the entire time you spent on getting ready and coming here. You knew it’s going to hurt. Saying goodbyes always sucks. You don’t even want to think how hard it’ll hurt to say it to Jimin. You need to do that, however. Can’t cower after you already made it this far. You almost step out while pep talking yourself mentally when Taehyung suddenly groans. You halt your movements to look at him. He is clutching his forehead.

“Oh, fuck he is here again.” Annoyance bounces off from his voice. Lets his hand fall down. Clenches his teeth. “I hate to see that fucking—” Gasps. Eyes wide and turning to look at you with a horrified expression. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to uh…” Shakes his head violently. You furrow your brows in confusion. What on the earth is this man talking about? Why is he apologizing? “It’s just your father can be a teeny bit annoying sometimes.” Taehyung chuckles nervously. Your furrow deepens.

“What?”

“Your father.” Taehyung, yet aging holds his hand out to hold the elevator door. You turn away from him to check who he’s helping this time. You catch the sight of an old man in a pristine black suite walking toward the elevator. Talking with a woman next to him. Surrounded by too many people. “Mr. Kim, I mean- what I’m saying is that he is a good man but….” Taehyung keeps rumbling. Yet the words slowly start to fade away for you.

What now? Father? Mr. Kim?

A loud gasp leaves past your lips. Realization hitting you hard. Mr. Kim. As in Liya’s father. That man who’s currently walking toward you is that man. You watch in horror as he laughs aloud for something the woman said. His focus solely on the woman. You without even your knowledge have expected Liya’s parents to look like yours. But this man looks nothing like your father. No wonder that you didn’t know who he was when you first noticed him. That, however, doesn’t change the fact that you look exactly like his daughter. Liya. Not her twin since Mr. Kim has no two daughters. And he is about to face you. There’s no more than five feet between you. Taehyung is keeping the elevator on hold. When he finally notices you that’s going to blow your damn cover. He will address you as Liya and you’ll have to pretend to be her. That will put you in pain and everyone will panic. Taehyung will wonder why your own father can’t recognize you and there’ll be no way out of that. No explanations.

Fuck no!

Your body works in autopilot mode when you suddenly grab Taehyung’s arm. Whatever he’s been saying instantly dying on his tongue at your sudden movements. You yank him to your side at the same time you step behind him. Covering yourself by his broad figure right at the moment the old man finally turns his head forward.  

“What? What the hell are you doing?” Taehyung tries to step away and look at you. You hold on to his shirt.

“Oh, please. I can’t face him.”

“What? What are you—” His words get cut off when the party finally reaches the elevator.

“Taehyung.” You cover yourself more behind Taehyung as that deep voice addresses him. It’s a good thing that Taehyung is tall and broad. Yet you know it’s not enough to hide you completely from everyone’s eyes. You would have to do with this, however.

“M-Mr. Kim.” Taehyung nods at the man. Very uncomfortable as it’s clearly noticeable in his voice.

“You’re coming to work now?” Liya’s father questions again. You want him to leave soon. “No. I just had to left for some work.” Taehyung answers. Mr. Kim mumbles a quick okay in reply before he steps inside the elevator. Everybody else starts to fill in as well. Making Taehyung steps away to make space. Making you step with him to keep yourself covered. And luckily for you, he doesn’t try to walk away from you. Not even look at you. Just tries to exit the damn elevator while not turning his back to Kim. Walks backward facing people inside the elevator. Awkward. Weird. Still, it looks like he can pick up a sign. He may be the funny guy who does stupid things most of the time but can certainly be smart sometimes. You walk backward with him. Step out. Nearly sigh in relief.

“And who might be the lady hiding behind you?” Mr. Kim’s voice is laced with amusement. Of course, anyone can see you. You knew it. Just that you wished they wouldn’t question.

“Oh, uh- Seoyeon—” Okay, you take your earlier thoughts back. He’s definitely stupid. You pinch his back hard enough that he yelps. But recovers quickly. Laughs. “Not Seoyeon. That’s what I tried to say. Not Seoyeon at all. Why would she hide right? This is someone else—” You pinch his waist this time. “Actually, this is no one important. I’ll let you leave Mr. Kim. See you soon then. Yeah, bye!” Takes another step back. You take it with him. Then another and another until the elevator door closes. He waits few more seconds. As if to make sure everyone has left for real. Then like a thunder boom, turns around so fast that you flinch.

“What the fuck was that?” Both of you bellow at the same time.

“Why would you tell him I’m Seoyeon?” You’re the one who question first. Taehyung looks at you with an incredulous expression.

“Why the hell would you hide from your own farther?” Gestures at the now closed door. Well, you think that’s a more valid question than yours. Your shoulders slump as you smack your lips together.

“Uh- I guess Hoseok told you that I’m the family disgrace. It’s like... mm...” You shrug. “He really doesn’t like to see me.” Offer him a soft smile. Taehyung’s incredulous expression instantly morphs into a sympathetic one. Hoseok definitely has told them about that part.

“Yeah, shit, I’m sorry.” He mutters softly while roaming his eyes over your figure. Like he’s expecting you to break apart at any moment. Looks at you like you’re a stray kitten getting drenched in a storm.

“Yeah, life is hard.” You nod. Trying to mirror his sympathetic look. Not hard since you’re already in a somber mood.

“Yeah.” He nods too. “I’m really sorry Li. That must really suck, like him not being your biological father and then he’s only favoring one of you. That shit must be really hard. I can’t even imagine that.” Taehyung gives you a tight-lipped smile. Looks very genuine. Shakes his head. Yet, you almost don’t hear the last part. Eyes snapping to his face while your mouth falling opening.

“Wha—” The question nearly escapes your mouth before you catch your tongue.

“Huh?”

“N-nothing, I mean, yes. That sucks. Very.” You chuckles nervously. Taehyung pats your head. Turns around while you just blink at him.

What the hell?

Mr. Kim isn’t Liya’s biological father? Well, that explains a lot why he doesn’t look like your father. But how come you never knew that. How come nobody ever told you that. It’s not like people would tell you about your own family, but you’re surprised. More than surprised actually. Jimin should’ve told you. True, that you never really talked about Liya but still, you could’ve blown your cover stupidly. Guess, it’s a close call after all. You scrunch your eyes shut. Blow out a breath. Opening them back again to find Taehyung’s retrieving back.

It seems like it’s finally your time to get your business done. No matter how much you don’t want to do that. As in cue Taehyung turns around. Maybe he can read mind too.

“And Li? Just think about the resigning, we all love having you here.”

…………………….

Jimin feels like trapped inside his own skin. With no way out or enough air to breathe. He wants a way to escape this feeling. Yet he can’t find one. He is pacing around his office like a maniac. As how he always does. His phone is clutched tightly between his fingers as his eyes snap toward the screen every few seconds. There’s nothing. Every minute passes without his phone dinging without a notification from you intensifies his trapped feeling.

You haven’t replied to him. It’s been hours. He has sent you three more texts, and you’ve left him on read. And you never do that. Something discomforting settles inside Jimin. He knows he took far too long to contact you. He should’ve texted you way earlier. But he was so preoccupied with getting things sorted and under control. He didn’t even have time to eat a proper meal. Was doing his very best and everything to get rid of all the videos. To prevent it from landing in the hands of press. Keeping everything hidden and getting rid of the evidence. He had no time for anything else. Nobody did. Not Liya. Not his friends. Hell, Jimin and Liya didn’t even have time to fight like a normal couple would. Not that he’s complaining. But that’s the truth. He has sent you a text the very moment he was able to. And he doesn’t like how you’re ignoring him. It doesn’t make him mad. It makes him scared.

Scared because he knows he fucked up. Again. He failed you. Again. He abandoned you and made you seek refuge in someone else when he told you not to do so, just a minute ago before it happened. He’s a failure through and through. A coward. And now he’s afraid the consequences are about to get to him.

It’s simply Jimin didn’t even know what he was doing at that time. It all happened too fast for his liking. He doesn’t know if he had done the right thing. What’s the right thing anyway? What’s the winning side? In Jimin’s case there’s no winning side. He was bound to lose one way or the other. He doesn’t know what made him follow Liya. He doesn’t remember. Only thing he know is that this would’ve been so much more messed up, if he hadn’t.

Figure out your shit Jimin. There’s thousands of people on your hands.

Right? It’s not like he can make decisions for himself. His life is too cruel to be able to do so. If he has done the other way around, then this might’ve been the last day of him being in this office. His friends wouldn’t have looked at his face. His name would’ve been on paper. He would’ve lost everything he worked hard for. Everybody would’ve known how much of a loser he is. You would’ve known he was a fucking failure. That’s terrifying to even think. Now he has avoided all of those things, he should be feeling relieved and happy. The thing is, though, he feels nothing remotely close to relief. He has saved everyone. But at what cost? He thinks he has failed to save himself.

Funny. Because this wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. You were supposed to fuck and get done. You were supposed to be his stress reliver. And you were. You still are. Just not sexually wise though. This feeling he’s getting. The feeling of being trapped and not being able to breathe, it would go away when you’re here. You’ve become his escape. His air. And he’s terrified of losing it. Losing you. He genuinely doesn’t know what he should tell you. Doesn’t know how to explain. He feels ashamed to tell you the truth. The last thing he wants is for you to see him as the real loser he is. It’s always easy with you, yes. You always understand, yes. But what if you run away when you see the real him. He has seen the way you look at him. That admiration and adoration. You act like Jimin is God. Has heard that in your voice. What if he lost it. He’s too greedy to do that. Yet he can still apologize. Profoundly. He would kneel in front of you if that’s what it takes. For every fucking pain he caused.

Because you were in pain. He saw that in your eyes when your eyes met before you disappeared behind a door that day. You were broken. Because of him. Up until that moment, Jimin was feeling numb with all the emotions. Then as his eyes connected with you, it all had come crashing down to him. Everything. He can’t even remember when or who had dragged Liya away from him. All he could think about was the way he had let you go. How he had fucked up. How he shouldn’t have done that. How he shouldn’t have left you alone. Shouldn’t have let you go. All he could think about was making it right again. He had wanted to follow you. Run after you. Yank you away from Jungkook into his chest. Kiss every inch of your face and apologize over and over again. Until he’d lost his voice doing so. He was really at a breadth of a hair apart from risking everything when he had taken a step forward. Just to be pushed back by pair of hands. Jimin had felt furious to see Jin stopping him. He would’ve never listened to his older friend but then Taehyung had stepped forward too. Had stopped Jimin. And Jimin had witnessed that rare occasions where his best friend was mad. They had muttered a single line repeatedly.

“Not now Jimin-ah. You fucking can’t. Not now.”

That’s how Jimin had lost. Lost himself and you. Now all he want is to apologize. But you’re not replying. Maybe he should call you. If you don’t answer, he would definitely drive to Kim’s to meet you whether you like it or not. He unlocks his phone. Determined just to do that when his office doors are barged open. Jimin snaps his head toward it immediately. Face lightening up with hope. Only for it to fall when his eyes land on Taehyung.

“Oh, wow, you look really happy to see me.” Taehyung chuckles.

“Not in a mood Tae.” Jimin rolls his eyes before going back to unlocking his phone.

“Yeah? Then should I leave?” Taehyung asks in a mischievous enough voice that Jimin can’t help but eye him suspiciously. Taehyung smirks. “I’m just here to let you know that Li is here. I just met her.” And just like that Jimin is back to beaming with expectation. “Yeah?” Mumbles more to himself as he already walks toward the door without even knowing where he’s going. Taehyung stops him, however. “Yeah. And she’s about to resign.” Jimin halts mid-step. Just as he’s passing Taehyung. Making them stand shoulder to shoulder with his best friend. Facing two opposite directions.

“What?” Jimin whispers. The excitement he felt vanishes into thin air. He turns his head slightly to peer at Taehyung’s amber eyes. Taehyung just shrugs. “I asked her not do so but we both know that she has no other options in the end.” Jimin frowns at that.

“What do you mean, she has no the other options? Nothing happened─”

“Nothing happened?” Taehyung exclaims aloud. “Dude, she got slapped in front of hundreds of people. And you’re saying nothing happened?”

“That’s not what I meant. We got rid of everything before it can affect anyone. Affect her. Nobody in this building knows what happened. Even if they do, they don’t know it was Lil. She doesn’t have to resign because of that.” Jimin argues. Feeling lost. Looking his worst fears coming true. You’re about to go away again.

“Oh, c’mon Jimin. Even I- who sees no logic in anything- can see where she’s coming from. How can she work under us after that happened. After she got exposed like that. How could she face Liya again. Act like nothing happened. I would do the same if I was her.”  Taehyung shrugs yet again.

“Well, then maybe I can explain to her and make her see it. She doesn’t have to lose a good job because of me.” Jimin blinks at his best friend’s face. “I- uh- I’ll just talk to her. Where is she now?” He knows what Taehyung said was true. It’s annoying when his unserious best friend makes sense.

“At Hoseok’s, of course.” Taehyung’s eyes aren’t wavering. There’s an amusing sparkle in them. Makes Jimin uncomfortable. It’s like there’s something that Taehyung doesn’t tell him. Jimin wants to question it, but he needs to find you first. Jimin almost steps forward at Taehyung’s answer. Only to get interrupted when Taehyung speaks again. “What’s happening Jimin?” He turns around to face Jimin fully. Jimin just furrows his brows in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you so worried about her leaving?”

“Because it’s not fair.”

Taehyung scoffs at that. “Not fair? Jimin, what’s not fair is her being here, being judged by people and getting slapped for the mistakes you both made. What’s not fair is she has no options. What are you even planning to do? Ask her to stay? Saying what? That you really can’t live without her pussy. That’s not what’s fair, Jimin. You gonna keep her here because you don’t want to lose the sex and she’d be the one to go through hell. That’s not what’s fucking fair.”

“Tha-that’s not.” Jimin is too stunned to speak at his best friend’s sudden outburst. Taehyung never does this.

“I mean, I’m not someone to judge people because I’m in no place to do so but Li, she looked like shit and I’m feeling really sorry towards her. Her father doesn’t like her. Her sister already hates her and now she might want to kill her. She lives with a stranger and she’s sick. Hoseok told me. And you gonna go after her and demand her to stay because she’s a good lay?”

“She’s not just a good lay.” Jimin steps forward. Clenching his teeth. He doesn’t like hearing someone talk about you that way. He doesn’t even know why. And he completely ignores Taehyung’s reasonings. Only if Taehyung knew.

“Then what? You love her?”

Like that Jimin freezes completely. Gaping at Taehyung. Opens his mouth just to close it back. No answer coming to his mouth. Resembles a fish. Chuckles. Breathless. Why is he so shocked? All he has to do is deny. Because that’s not the case after all. “No- Tae, of course not─” This is ridiculous. He sure doesn’t love you. Just cares about you beyond sex, that’s it. “I- I just care about her. Like- ugh- I don’t know man. It’s just that she’s a good person and I like her company. She’s not just a good lay. I feel free when I’m with her and- and she makes me do stupid reckless things I shouldn’t do, and I like that too. A little too much. I- I don’t know what I want exactly but I don’t want to cause any harm to her. I don’t want to lose her either.” Jimin doesn’t even realize that he’s rambling until Taehyung laughs. Shakes his head.

“Well, I don’t know what’s that makes of this situation. I obviously don’t know if that feeling is love Jimin because I haven’t been in love once in my life. But you have. So, I would take your word for it.” Steps toward Jimin. Pats his shoulder. Jimin feels weird. He’s been in love. Of course, he has. Right? He loved Liya once. This isn’t love because this isn’t how he felt. He’s safe. “And that’s good that you don’t like her in that kind of way. Because that’d just make everything complicated.” Sighs. Oh, Jimin hates when Taehyung is in a mood. Doesn’t suit him. “Still, though, it’s not fair that you’d just go after her and ask her to stay. If you really care, you should keep her far away from her sister. She doesn’t deserve that shit.”

Jimin no longer feels weird. He feels heavy. As if his heart is supporting fifty pounds. He knows it’s not fair. He knows the best thing is to let you go. But he can’t. No. God, he can’t. It hurts to even imagine that. “I- I don’t want to. I- Taehyung, you’ve not been listening to me. She makes me feel alive. I just don’t want to lose that.”

“Well, that’s so fucking selfish.”

“I know. I know I’m fucking selfish. Just can’t help it.”

“Then at least you need to give her a better explanation. You need to tell her why you’d have to keep her a fucking secret. I’m not talking about love or dating. You could’ve fucked her, or do any other shit with her freely, if it wasn’t for Liya. Then it’d not be an unfair situation to either of you. At least tell her why you can’t even give her that. This is fucking ridiculous. I don’t even know what you’re planning to do Jimin? What’s your fucking plan.” Taehyungs hand on Jimin’s shoulder tightens.

“I just need time. That’s all I want. I can make it right.” Jimin resigns. And Taehyungs features softens immediately as well. He steps back. Jimin may not know what he wants from you precisely. But he knows he need to put things on track. With his business and relationship. He can’t forever be an asset. He’s done being in debt. But this is not a game where he can press a button to change things. He needs time. That was exactly what he planned to do when he met you the other day. Baring gifts. It’s unfortunate how it has come to this. Still, though, he thinks he can try. And he needs you. Selfish? Hell, yes. Yet, he wants you.

Taehyung groans. “Oh, you selfish asshole.” Grumbles. “What can I do though. You’re my best fucking friend and you’ve done far worst shit for me. So, maybe let’s just see how we are going to fuck things up. We built things together so, it’s only fair if we fucked up things together too.” Throws his head up. Shoves his hands in his pockets. “Let’s be the partners in crime then. Like old times.” Looks back at Jimin expectantly. Jimin says nothing. Just a smile graces his lips. Taehyung always has been his partner in crime and Jimin is always grateful for him. “Then maybe you should go and do whatever you wish to do. I mean she’d obviously come visit you, but this would at least save Hobi the trouble.” Taehyung gestures at the door. Jimin gives him a nod. Yes, he’s going to do whatever he has to do. Taehyung nods in reply as well. “I really suck at this advising thing.” Mumbles as Jimin turns around.

……………………………………….

Jimin nearly makes it halfway toward Hoseok’s office when a sudden voice echoes behind him. A voice that is too familiar to him. A voice that he doesn’t want to hear right now. No. Not now. Yet it seems he has no other options as he hears the clanking sound of Liya’s heels against the marble floor. A sudden flash of irritation shoots across Jimin’s entire body. Liya has no business here. It’s so wrong for him to even get irritated. Yet it appears that he doesn’t care in the end. Jimin slowly turns around to face the approaching woman. A very fake smile is pasted on her face. Jimin doesn’t bother to reciprocate it. Liya doesn’t wish to see Jimin as much as he does. He knows it.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin asks straight away without any pleasantries. There’s no need to do that. Liya, however, just throws her hands around his neck. Catching him in surprise before pulling away. It’s a brief contact. But is enough to weird Jimin out.

“What? I can’t come visit my boyfriend?” Liya pouts. She never pouts. Not in this way, at least. Doesn’t suit her just like how it doesn’t suit Taehyung to be mad.

“Oh c’mon, Liya, cut the bullshit please. We definitely aren’t on terms as to where you’d visit me just to see me and hug me. Don’t act like nothing happened. It’s not okay.” Jimin frowns. For a moment, it looks like Liya is about to keep her pretense on. After a brief second, her face falls.

“Yeah, okay. Nothing’s fine. Of course, it isn’t. I mean you fucking cheated on me. How’s that fine?” Liya scoffs. Jimin winces at her voice. He might be as much of a jerk as Taehyung now, but that doesn’t mean he has no conscience. He feels guilty. He does. Simply wishes he could be a better man. To her. To you. And to himself. Too late now, however. “But that’s exactly why I’m here Jimin. We need to talk. Sit down and talk this out like adults.” Liya exhales loudly. Jimin bores into her eyes. He wants to laugh. There was a time when Jimin really wanted to talk. But they were busy. Liya was busy. She believed it was a waste of time to just argue when they’d end up with no solution anyway. Talking meant fighting to her. Then Jimin made sure he was busy too. It worked well until it didn’t.

“You want to talk?” Jimin thinks it’s too late for that talk now. Just asks for the sake of it. He owes Liya an apology after all.

“Yes. You don’t?”

“What are we gonna talk about? About why you’re forgiving me? Why you’re acting like nothing happened Liya?”

“I’m not acting like nothing happened Jimin. I’m just acting matured. We’re adults. People make mistakes and I’m willing to forgive you. But in order to do that, we need to talk and figure out why it happened.”

Oh, how badly Jimin wants to laugh. True, that they both didn’t have enough time to even fight let alone talk. But except for the part where she attacked you, Liya is acting unnecessarily calm. Jimin doesn’t think that’s being matured. No. Liya needs to lose her shit. She needs to cry. She needs to slap him too. She needs to threaten him with a breakup. She has the upper hand here. She needs to threaten him with her father. His business. It’s awfully suspicious in Jimin’s mind that she’s acting this way.

“What?” Liya questions again in his silence. “Look baby─” Jimin visibly winces at the term of endearment. There was a time where it made his stomach flutter. Then there was a time that it made him feel indifferent. And then in this moment, it makes him feel uneasy. Liya just continues, however. Completely ignoring the visible change in his features. See, odd. Very. “─I know there must be a reason for why it happens. I’m at fault too. I mean, we forgot to make it work. So, let’s consider this as a test. A test that check how well we can work this out. Let’s consider this as a reminder that our relationship needs some work. We can work it back Jimin.” Steps forward. Places a gentle hand on his upper arm. Jimin’s eyes fall to where she’s touching him for a second before he looks back at her face again. “It’s not late. We still have time. I really do love you that I can forgive you.” Smiles softly.

Liya doesn’t forgive. Just like his friends said, she’s a snake and she bites. In revenge. That’s who she is. This is really strange. And Jimin doesn’t think she loves him. No. Not anymore. This is a relationship in convenience. Still, he peers at her eyes. He loved those eyes once. He really did.

Is it really not too late?

Does he still love those eyes?

Does he─

The sudden sound of footsteps make Jimin’s eyes snap away from Liya. It’s completely unintentional how his eyes trail past her. Stopping on a new figure who rounded the corner just now. The intruder stops. Dead on the track. Big wide eyes are fixed on him.

You stand still, while your eyes are locked with him. The wind gets knocked out of Jimin’s lungs.

Oh, it’s late. Too fucking late.

Jimin feels a warmth engulf him fully. Then an ache surges through him. A longing. His heart clenches.

He doesn’t love those eyes, anymore.

Or he does. But those eyes, doesn’t belong to the same person anymore. He doesn't know what’s happening to him. Only thing he knows is the bittersweet feeling he is getting. All he knows is that he can’t wait another second. He doesn’t realize how much he wanted to see you until now. Until you’re in front of him. Finally. All he knows is that he’s not going to waste it this time.

It feels like a dream to Jimin when he steps to his side. When he starts walking past Liya. Maybe she calls to him but that falls into deaf ears.

You’re here and he needs to pull you into his arms immediately.

You stay still there. Eyes still wide. But this time you wander those eyes away from him. You look past him. Then back to him. He knows you’re looking at Liya. He has no idea what’s going on in your head but nothing’s going to happen again. No one’s going to lay a finger on you. Except him. He stops before you. Takes a good look at your pretty face. You look tired. Eyes puffy. Breaks his heart into tiny pieces. Makes him want to take all the pain away from you.

It’s going to be okay.

Stretches his arms to grab you. To pull you into his embrace.

You recoil like spring. And all his senses comes back to him. Like you’ve slapped him. Makes Jimin’s eyes go wide for a moment before he frowns in confusion. A deep ache tugs at his heart. A moment passes in silence before you suddenly speak.

“I am resigning Mr. Park. Thank you for allowing me to work here. It’s been a pleasure.” You bow deep to him.

Mr. Park?

You can’t be already resigned. Even if you have, that’s okay. He can make sure you’ve got any job inside this building. He doesn't give a single fuck about what people say. He must be losing his mind. “Lil? What are you─”

“I have already resigned. I came to say thank you. So, thank you Mr. Park.” You mumble once again with a bow. And before he can say or do anything you turn around. Start walking away.

No. No. No.

Jimin watches in horror as you walk away for a minute. Just like the day in club. His poor brain is taking its sweet time processing things. And he does exactly feel the way he did that day. Watching you walk away.

No. Not this time.

He’s not an idiot to make the same mistake twice. Jimin practically breaks into a run at the same time you disappear through the corner. It doesn’t take him more than a second to reach you. To grab your arm. Yanks you back and turns around to face him. You scowl at him. Your eyes look furious.

“You’re not walking away. We need to talk.” Jimin’s voice sounds foreign even to him. It’s barely audible through the roar in his ear. Over his own heartbeat.

“Talk what Jimin.” You hiss. A panicked expression crosses through your face as you quickly glance behind him. “Let me go please.”

“No. Not until we talk.”

“You can’t do this for fucks sake. There are people here and─”

“And what? I don’t care. I want to apologize for─”

“Keep your damn apologies to yourself Park. I don’t fucking care.” You try your best to step away from him. Jimin feels like he’s travelled through time. There was a time where you and he used to fight like angry cats. Just the same way. He’d try to stop you while you’re trying to get away. But you passed those days, right? He really hates to go through that again. “I don’t want to be your little secret anymore. You need to let me go.” Your words cut through him painfully. So damn painful that it almost annoys him.

“Well, you agreed to be that Lil. I already told you that you’re going to be stuck with me if you ever agreed to be mine. You can’t just walk away.” Jimin tightens his grip so that you wouldn’t be able run away.

“I did. But that’s way before we got─” You clench your teeth. Lower your voice to low hiss. “─caught. Before I saw how your girlfriend loves you. Before I realized I’m the only one who’s going to get the blame in the end. Get humiliated. I don’t want that again Jimin. I deserve fucking better than that. I deserve better than standing alone in a corridor and getting slapped. I know you did the right thing. And there’s no hard feelings. I don’t hate you or anything like that. I just want to end this shit. I’m tired.” You blabber in one breath. Heave for air once you’re done. Everything you say makes sense to Jimin. But at the same time, it doesn’t. All he needs is one chance to apologize.

“Lil...” Your name leaves Jimin’s lips in a desperate sigh. “I- I know. I- I just, let’s please─”

“I’m leaving.” You state sternly. Oh, it hurts. You don’t even want to listen to him. It hurts like a bitch as Jimin allows his hand to fall limp. He wishes to say something more. Beg more. He’s ready to kneel right now and right here. But before he could, you turn around. Before he could, he feels Liya’s presence next to him. Before he could, you storm away. Not a single glance. Not a single word. Just like that, you run away. You don’t want to be his dirty little secret anymore. And he needs to respect that. You don’t want to do anything with him anymore. He needs to respect that decision. You deserve way better. Of course, you do. Then why can’t he make up his mind to do that.

No.

It hurts.

No, he won’t just let you go.

Not this time. He’s going to go through whatever it takes. He’s going to make you stay.

…………………………..

Jungkook tries to stuff his face while ignoring the heated glare his best friend is throwing at him. Fails. No one can ignore J. Especially Jungkook. J raps his knuckles on the table. Starts speaking even though Jungkook doesn’t look at her. “Why weren’t you in the class today?” She interrogates, irritated. Jungkook refuses to look at her still.

“Because I didn’t feel like it. It’s boring.” Answers through a mouthful.

“Bullshit!” J yells. Makes Jungkook glance at her. But it’s Namjoon who calls her out. “Oh, c’mon. How old are you? You can’t handle being alone in a one class.” He peeks through his laptop. Rolls his eyes before looking pointedly at Jungkook. “I mean it’s not okay you’re skipping classes but still…” Gives J an odd look.

“Yes, I can’t handle it. I want my best friend for emotional support.” J crosses her arms across her chest. Pouts. Namjoon tries to argue again when J starts again. “Besides, he is fucking lying. You didn’t attend today because you didn’t want to leave Li alone.” Points out. Oh, how Jungkook hates his best friend’s observation skills. It’s almost annoying how much she knows about him. He tries to deny the accusation when J points a finger at him. “Don’t. Even. Try. To deny you little shit. I know you. You’re so fucking fixated on her. I mean like first you lied to all of us and then—”

“I didn’t lie to anyone.” Jungkook gives up on trying to eat.

“Well, yeah but you didn’t tell us anything either and you helped her?” J’s face turns into a furious expression. “You knew she was cheating, and you fucking helped her Jeon?”

“I did not fucking help her J. I just didn’t uh-do anything about it because it’s not my place.”

“Silence makes you an accomplice.” Namjoon chimes in again. It’s Jungkook’s time to glare at him. “What? Just saying.” He mumbles before going back to typing furiously on his keypad.

“Exactly!” J chimes. Jungkook groans. Rubs a hand over his face. “So, what do you suggest I should’ve done? Tie her up to fucking chair and keep her inside the apartment? Bribe her with candy? Take her to a church and teach her about the hell?” Throws his hands in the air. Luckily, it seems that it works. J sighs.

“Okay, let’s put that aside. But you still kept it a secret from us.” Nudges Namjoon for assistance, which she doesn’t receive.

“I couldn’t just do that. She is my friend.”

“Oh? Now you’re replacing me? You found a new friend?” J opens her mouth in disbelief. “Us” Namjoon butts in again. Without taking his eyes away from the screen.

“C’mon, Joonie, you’re not fucking helping here. And are you fucking crazy? What are you even talking about J? I said, ‘a friend’. Not damn best friend. It’s you who’s replacing me. You’re the one who don’t even reply to my texts anymore. You’re the one who’s following Jin around like a lost puppy.” It’s not that Jungkook is really mad. He just wants to take the winning hand. “It’s always, Jin that, Jin this.” He mimics her voice. J gasps.

“This is so damn childish. I don’t even know why I’m friend with kids.” Namjoon glanced between his two younger, very immature friends. J slams her palm on the table.

“That’s not the same thing. It’s entirely different. Jin is not a friend. I like him.”

“That’s exactly─ wait, what?” Jungkook’s eyes go instantly wide. “Come again.” Even Namjoon closes his laptop down. Fast. Paying full attention to the conversation for the first time.

“What?” J looks between them confusedly. “I like Jin. Why are you so surprised? Like isn’t it obvious?”

“Hold on, rewind please.” Namjoon turns to face J fully. “I mean yeah, it was obvious, but did you just admit it like that?” Questions.

“Are you dating?” Jungkook adds. Turning the restaurant into a temporary interrogation room in second.

“Does Jin know you like him?”

“Does he like you too?”

“Has he asked you out?”

“You know that we’d break his bones if he tried anything funny─”

“Okay, that’s it.” J bangs the table with both of her palms this time. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Glares at Jungkook and Namjoon as they both shrug.

“Nothing, just two concerned friends.” Namjoon answers on their behalf. Jungkook just nods, feeling grateful for the distraction of the topic. “I mean, J, our sassy ass friend, is admitting she likes a guy for the first time. Isn’t that concerning.” Namjoon further points out while Jungkook just keep nodding in agreement. J rolls her eyes.

“That’s not true. I’ve liked someone once before.” Argues. “Exactly! Look where it got you.” Namjoon exclaims. And Jungkook agrees. “He broke your heart even before you properly even started liking him. So, of course, we’re very concerned right here J,J. You don’t even know Jin properly and you admit you like him.” Namjoon levels J with a pointed look.

“Oh, I know him enough to like him. I mean what’s there not to like about Kim Seokjin.” J huffs. Starts putting her fingers down in count. “He’s so damn fucking handsome. He’s good. Kind. Funny. And of course, is rich. Is a good kisser. You might not want to know this, but he has an impressive dick─” Both Namjoon and Jungkook gags at the same time, but J pays them little to no attention. “─ and knows how to use it. Knows how to use his tongue and lips too─”

“That’s enough. I might have to bleach my ears now.” Namjoon grimaces. “And he’s too old for you.” Adds. J opens her mouth to retort when Jungkook fails to keep his mouth shut. “Yes, and he isn’t funny. He makes weird ass jokes and laughs like a squeaky windshield wiper.” He blurts out before he can process it. Is a very wrong move apparently. J’s eyes snap to him immediately. Burning with fire.

“He. Is. Not. Jeon. He’s funny and good. You two has nothing to worry about. If anything, who we should be worried about is you.” Shoots Jungkook a tight-lipped smile. “Because, just like me, Joen Jungkook, you’re always talking about Li. Noona this, Noona that. Just like me, you’re always following her around like a lost puppy. You even ditched your best friend today to be there for her. Then that’s very concerning unless you… like… her.” Ends her rambling with wide eyes. Dragging the last three words unnecessarily. As if it just makes sense to herself as well. “Holy shit, do you like Li, man?” Questions.

“What?” Jungkook chuckles nervously. Is ready to deny but something twists inside him. Why would he even deny it anymore? So, just closes his mouth back. Namjoon’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You too? What the fuck is happening?” Mutters.

“This is not good.” J mutters as well, glancing at Namjoon and sharing a knowing look. Makes Jungkook irritated. “What’s not good? What’s the problem here?” He scowls at his two friends.

“Dude, she has been having a secret relationship with a practically married man.” J’s expression turns into a genuinely concerned one. Jungkook doesn’t like it a little bit.

“No. That wasn’t technically a relationship. She was just having sex with a man, and she knew it was wrong and was feeling fucking guilty. And now she is about to make things right.” That’s what you told him and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Not just because it’s the best for you. But because it leaves you all to him. Selfish, yes. But still, he’s buzzing with excitement.

“But what if it wasn’t just sex and she likes Jimin?” Namjoon shares J’s concerned look now. Jungkook doesn’t know how to answer that. What would he do if that’s the case. Hell, even the thought makes his heart clench in a painful way.

“And what if she breaks your heart?” J asks again. For that, he has an answer now. “I’m okay with that. She’s worth it.” So, Jungkook mumbles slowly when both of his friends sigh heavily. Jungkook doesn’t look at them. Feels weird. Painful. But he means his every word. And maybe he won’t care if you like Jimin either. He’d still fight and still like you until he’s tired and can’t do it anymore. He has no idea since when he started to feel this strongly toward you. Maybe it was from the first day he saw you. There’s a reason why he didn’t realize J- his best damn friend is falling for someone. A reason for that to slip from his sharp, observant eyes. That’s because he was so immersed in you. Even when he thought you were Liya. He was enamored by you. All he saw was you. Funny. But that’s how it is.

“This is absolutely not good.” Namjoon leans back in his chair. J mirrors his actions. “Not good at all.” Agrees with Namjoon.

“Oh, c’mon…. There’s nothing to be so dramatic about.” Jungkook shrugs them off. Gets to his feet. “This shit is cold now, thanks to you two idiots.” Gathers his food in his hands. Feels a bit heavy but guess it would pass away. Almost turns around to leave when J stops him.

“You know, I really don’t like her. What she did was such a bitchy thing. Especially as a woman, I want to slap her too. But, if she’s trying to do the right thing, and she’s feeling guilty… I hope I can find a way to forgive her.” Turns her head to look at Jungkook. “Besides, I’m team Kook always. I mean Jimin is a douchebag, and he deserves four slaps, but nobody delivered that. Such a shame. So, I’m gonna help my best friend to win the woman. If you need help killing Park Jimin, let me know buddy. You know I love you.” Nods very seriously that Jungkook snorts.

“Me too. I mean, not the killing part. Murder is illegal.” Namjoon sits back straight. Jungkook and J give him an annoyed look. “What? Just saying.”

“Oh, we didn’t know.” J bellows sarcastically as Jungkook finally steps away.

………………………………..

“Let’s go out please.” Jungkook whines as you ignore him completely. You don’t want to do anything except rot here. Sitting in Kim’s kitchen and sipping free beer and eating unhealthy amounts of chips. “C’mon, Noona.” Jungkook rests his head on your shoulder.

“I’m not in a mood Kookie. You guys should go.” You expectantly glance over at Jungkook’s friends. J and Namjoon. Yoona would be here any minute as well. You were surprised to see J and Namjoon treating you indifferently. You expected them to hate you. Maybe everyone’s favorite color in this world is morally gray. No one knows how to filter good from bad. Not that you’re complaining, though. You don’t want to lose any more friends in addition to Park Jimin. The very reason why you’re not in a mood to go out. Or to do anything else either.

It had hurt deeply. The moment you spat those words at him. The look in his eyes. It all had hurt. You had really wanted a heartfelt goodbye. Yes, you did. You wanted to clear the air and part ways on good terms. Because despite everything, you don’t hate Park Jimin. No. Absolutely not. In short, it’s quite the opposite. You still adore him. But when your eyes landed on Jimin and Liya together in the hallway something had spewed inside you. Something uncomfortable and painful. You hadn’t planned to walk away from Jimin that way. Now, though, it feels like the best option you had. Even though it pains you.

“What’s fun in that?” J chews on her bubblegum with extra force. Her look is pointed and sharp. Maybe they are not being indifferent. Maybe they are watching you closely until they find a moment to kill you.

“Right?” Jungkook raises his head immediately. “That’s no fun. We need you.”

“You need her. I’m completely fine.” Namjoon chimes in. J nudges him with her elbow. “Don’t be rude, Joonie.”

“I’m not being rude. I’m just─”

“Saying. Yes, we know.” Jungkook completes Namjoon’s sentence. Turns his attention back to you. “Please, Noona. I’ll buy you the biggest ice cream tub I can find. Or- or- loads of chocolates─”

“Jungkook…” You sigh, turning your head to peer at his doe eyes. “I’m really not in the mood to go out. Let’s just stay this way for tonight. I promise you I’ll go out with you every day if you let me stay in tonight.” Jungkook audibly and adorably whines. Says something else about how cruel this world is when all of your attention drifted away from him to the sound of restaurant door opening in distance.

“That must be Yoona.” Namjoon forms a dimpled smile. Visibly excited. You find it disgustingly sweet. Cute. Only if you could have that one day. An involuntary smile graces your lips at the sight. You all look expectantly at the swing door. Hoping Yoona will appear now. But then you hear voices before the door opens. Multiple voices.

“I swear to god Hobi…”

That’s definitely a male voice, and you heard the name Hobi for sure. You look at Jungkook confusedly when the door finally slams open.

“What’s up, motherfuckers!” Taehyung yells through the top of his lungs the moment he appears on the doorway. Very businessman- unlike. “We party hard tonight.” Adds a loud yoo-hoo at the end. Walks inside when Hoseok appears next.

“I swear, Joon, I have nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, yeah? You were the one who called me and said Namjoon is giving away free beer─” Yoongi straightly walks toward the fridge when Hoseok runs after him. Pressing his hand over Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi’s muffled voice comes behind Hoseok’s palms. “Nothing. He means, I called him and said nothing about Namjoon. Yeah.” Hoseok chuckled nervously. Namjoon gapes at the duo. Confused. Your attention alters from the chaos to J when she squeals in happiness when Jin walks in.  

“Oh, God, you should’ve told me. I would’ve dressed nicely then.” She whines as Yoona shoves both Jin and J away so she can enter the kitchen. You’re positive that Jin said something horribly cheesy but cute to J, just as Namjoon engulfs his woman in a warm hug too. See, adorable. Nice. Even, you forget your miserable life problems. Or you almost did. Only for a fractured second when another figure enters. Stands in the doorway. It takes your barely functioning brain a second to register who he is.

Park Jimin!

Wait, what?

Your eyes widen.

What the hell is he doing here?

Your stomach drops. A strange sensation washing over you. Your breath hitches as Jimin looks directly at you. Eyes burning into yours. Not even wavering. As if he came here just to do that. Find you. Stare into your eyes. And you find it’s impossible to tear your gaze away. Too stunned and surprised to do that.

Jimin can’t be here.

Your trance breaks when you feel a sudden movement next to you. You catch from the corner of your eyes as Jungkook jumps into his feet before you snap your head toward him. Startled this time.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jungkook’s voice comes out as a growl. You watch with wide eyes at the sharp line of his jaw and how tightly he’s clenching his teeth. His question is clearly directed at Jimin. Jimin doesn’t even try to answer, however. Or he just doesn’t get a chance to do that when Jungkook is already walking past you. Rounding the table to reach Jimin. Looks like he would straightly land a punch on the other guy’s face. You stumble to your feet in panic when Taehyung beats you to it. His arm wraps around Jungkook’s chest.

“Woah, woah, easy big boy. Don’t do that now. We are friends and I wanted to get a drink because the last time we left things ugly. Don’t start it again.” He pacify Jungkook in an uneasily calmed voice. Jungkook, on the other hand, looks feral. His eyes snap to Taehyung.

“Friends?” Questions while trying to shrug Taehyung’s arm off.

“Don’t do that please Jungkook. No need to fight here. We’re all cool. And yes, we are friends dude. You declared- not even confessed but declared- your love to me back at the cottage. Is this your way of breaking up with me?” Taehyung widens his eyes first then scrunches up his face in feigned pain. In a different context, you know, Jungkook would’ve played along with Taehyung. They’d even start to cry. This moment, though, Jungkook’s mood isn’t lifting an inch despite hundreds of jokes everyone would say to him. You almost become convinced that Jungkook won’t give up at all when Namjoon walks over to him.

“Hey, it’s fine Kook. You can’t avoid them forever. Hobi is my friend and now everyone is everyone’s friends, and you know…” Namjoon looks Jungkook in the eye. You guess you saw him gesturing at J with his eyes. Just for a moment. Then after a long minute, Jungkook sighs. Takes a step back and walks to you again. An arm sneaking around your shoulders protectively.

And you quite certainly witness the way Jimin’s jaw tightens. And that familiar fire breaks inside his eyes.

…………………………………

Night settles into a fairly normal one if not fun. All seated around the kitchen table. Conversation and beer flowing around. Paired with occasional laughter or shouting. Other than that, night feels dull. Despite the best effort Taehyung put out with the help of Hoseok. For the most part, part of the table is keeping quiet. That part includes you, Jungkook, and undoubtedly Jimin. He’s been staring at you for the past hour or so. You’ve been avoiding his eyes. You feel tense. Hard to breathe. Want nothing but to be alone. Your idiotic friends don’t allow you, however. You wish this night would end soon.

“Right Li? That’d be fun, right?” Taehyung asks you again. He’s been asking you so many questions. Is sitting next to Jimin. Almost makes you suspicious that he’s trying to make you talk with Jimin.

“Huh?” You quip distractedly. Having no idea what he’s talking about.

“A summer camp? Right Jimin? You want Li to come, right?” Asks from Jimin. Jimin’s eyes glint as he searches for something in your eyes. Oh, God it hurts be in his presence. Hurt to look at his eyes. Hurt to see that glint. You need to leave.

“Hell, yeah. You can come up with good ideas once in a while Tae, Tae. I’m impressed.” J perks up before you can say anything else. And you’re glad. Jungkook scoffs from next to you. Earning himself a glare from J as Taehyung’s face falls. As if he doesn’t want anyone else answering him other than you.

“Of course, I’m smart J,J. It’s not my fault it took you so long to realize that. Ask Jin Hyung, I’m the master mind behind everything.” Answers, nonetheless. Face proud and smug. Jin snorts so loud that it startles J slightly.

“Oh, yes. He is. Someone pass me another beer please.” Jin taps Namjoon’s arm. Everyone burst into laughter. Even the silent party makes soft sounds of chuckles. Taehyung gasps. Offended. No one pays him any attention.

“No, but seriously. That’s such a good idea. It’s going to be fun. I know a place we can go near this river. What do you guys say?” J practically vibrates in her chair. You wish you could share the enthusiasm.

“It’s a stupid idea. We can use our time for something better.” Jungkook states. He looks fine now. Not clenching his jaw so tight nor scowling deep like an owl. J shoots another glare at him. “Yeah, like what?” Raises her brow.

“I don’t know. Something that─”

“Oh, c’mon, you little shit, you love camping.” J throws a napkin at Jungkook. “What’s up with you? Killing the mood like a grumpy grandad.” Complaints. Jungkook tries to retort but a second voice booms across before he could.

“Or you can simply choose not to come. No one’s forcing you, you know Jungkook. You can stay and use your precious time to do anything you want.” Jimin’s eyes are boring holes in Jungkook’s skull. So, are Jungkook’s. You feel mixture of emotions engulf you. Irritation. Annoyance. Anger. Pain. Longing. And much more.

“What did you say?” Jungkook questions in a stony voice. Calmed but anyone can notice the underlying storm.

“Okay.” Taehyung palms his face. Takes a moment then pulls a bright but very forced smile. “What he’s saying is anyone can do anything. You know, this is a free country.” Shrugs. Yet, Jimin and Jungkook keeps glaring at each other. Oh, fuck. In addition to being painful, this shit is exhausting as well. You sigh deeply. Uncomfortable silence falls over the table. Until Yoongi breaks it. With something completely unrelated but the way everyone relaxes tell you how glad they are.

“We don’t have any more beer?” Yoongi shakes an empty beer can. “Are you sure?” Looks at Namjoon. Namjoon gives him a strange look. Almost like he’s ready to slap Yoongi.

“Yes. I am sure. You don’t get beer that you won’t pay for.”  Namjoon looks at everyone.

“So, you do have more. Where? Where are you hiding my precious alcohol?” Yoongi gets to his feet. Just to be yanked back into his chair by an extremely aggravated Namjoon. “Nope. No. You’re not making my parents’ business go bankrupt. No. More. Free. Beer.” He holds Yoongi onto his chair by his shoulders. Hoseok is the one who whines in complaint.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be a cheap─”

“Shut the fuck up, Hobi or I’ll shove a beer can down your throat.” Namjoon shouts as Hoseok instantly shuts his mouth.

“Your boyfriend is so violent Yoona. You need to do something about it.” Yoongi shrugs Namjoon’s hands off his shoulders. Yoona just rolls her eyes.

“Uh-huh.” Just nods while keeping her eye on her phone. She had said something about having to keep a close eye on some art piece earlier. You think it’s cool she works as an art broker. Namjoon says something else to Yoongi when the sudden sound of restaurant door chime erupts for a second time. Entire place falls into a curious silence.

“Is Seoyeon or Liya joining us?” Someone questions. And you catch a faint glimpse of Taehyung and Jimin shaking their heads at the same time. Then the silence abruptly gets broken by a loud gasp Namjoon lets out.

“Holy fuck, if that’s my mom and if she finds out you little pricks have been emptying her fridge, oh, she’s gonna have a heart attack and─”

“I’ll go talk to her. I mean I’ll distract her and tell her everything’s fine. I’ll ask her to go back.” You ramble before you can stop yourself. Get to your feet even faster. All you want is an opportunity to leave. Even for a moment. It’s too tiring for you. So, you are going to use this as a perfect chance to distract yourself. Leave this torturing place. Namjoon blinks at your face. Surprised. You offer him a tight-lipped smile as you walk around the table. Jungkook protests when you glare at him. You’re not a kid and all you want is a moment to be alone. Away from everyone. Away from Jimin. From his beautiful eyes.

“Don’t worry, she likes me.” You pat Namjoon’s shoulder as you exit the kitchen. Feeling relieved the moment the swing door closes behind you.

……………………………

It turns out it’s not Mrs. Kim. It’s just the newly hired boy who has left his headphones at the restaurant by accident. He has come back to take them. And you just allow him. You’re supposed to go back inside the kitchen the moment the boy vanishes again. You don’t, however. You had hoped it would really be Namjoon’s mom, and you’d get a chance to leave with her. It’s okay to be with her since she knows nothing about your miserable life or situation. Now, though, when you don’t have such a chance, you at least need a moment to catch your breath.

So, you sink into a chair at the empty restaurant. Sighing heavily. Not so faint chitter chatter and laughter of your friends drifting into the area. It’s not quiet. Yet is still better than the stuffed kitchen. It’s good to be alone. Liberating. You feel like you can breathe, finally. You place your arms on the table. Prop your head on your palms. Letting the cool air inside the building soothe your aching heart. It doesn't work. But you’ll keep trying. And you’ll stay here one more minute. Just one more.

“Lil?”

You nearly fall down from the chair at the unexpected voice. You haven’t even sensed a new presence, let alone the sound of footsteps or the door opening. You whip your head in the direction where the voice came. Just to find Jimin standing there. You suck in a sharp breath, stumbling into your feet.

No.

Hell, no!

You ran away earlier because you wanted to avoid him. This isn’t that. And maybe you should take this chance. To say the goodbye that you oh so badly wanted. To leave- whatever fucked up ship- you had on a good note. Just like you wanted. But after all, you don’t think it’d be easy. True it had hurt more since you had nearly yelled at Jimin before you left. But how can you be sure it’d hurt less if you do it in a civil manner. Besides what are you going to say. Everything you said before but in a calmer tone. No. That won’t hurt any less. It’d still hurt like a bitch and Jimin would still look at you with those eyes. Pain slashing across them. Like you’re tearing his world apart and you in the end undoubtedly will fold. Give up. You’ll fall under his spell once again. You don’t want that. When you said to him that you deserve better, you’ve meant it. You want to be free of this situation before it inevitably get more complicated. You’ll deal with the regret and pain later. What you should do is run away. Again. Immediately.

You round the table without uttering a single word. Almost walk past him when his voice reaches you. “Lil, please.” You think he has stopped you by touching you. But no, it’s just you have stopped by yourself. Against your better judgment. Maybe it’s the desperation in his voice. He sounds pleading. Helpless. That shatters your heart irreparably. “Please. Just listen to me. That’s all I-I w- want.” His voice cracks and the pain you feel intensifies. What’s the fucking wrong with you? Why does it fucking hurt so much?

“I don’t think you have anything else to say Jimin.” You bite down on the inside of your cheeks to prevent from breaking into a cry.

“You don’t know that.” Jimin stalks toward you. You don’t bother looking at him. Not because you don’t want to. But because it’d break you.

“Oh, for fucks sake Jimin. You need to end this game. We need to end this game.” You have no idea what Jimin is doing. Why is he seeking an opportunity so desperately to talk with you. What’s he even going to tell you. Apologize? For what? This is such a fucked-up situation. You really can’t blame him when you knew what you were getting yourself into. You can’t blame him for following Liya because that’s what he should do. Then why is he going to apologize? There’s no reason.

“I am not playing games.” Jimin sounds stern now. Voice rough. An invitation for you to just turn your head a bit to look at him. You refuse to give in.

“Well, then that’s good. If you’re going to apologize, there’s no need to Jimin. You’ve done nothing wrong. We both did our fair share of misdeeds and now it needs to end. So, let’s just end this here.” You manage to croak. Throat dry suddenly. A familiar lump forming there. You don’t want to cry. You need to leave.

Now.

You turn around just after you finish your sentence. Take two more steps. That’s all you manage before you feel pair of hands circling around you. Your back suddenly collides with a hard chest. You freeze. Too stunned to move. Eyes wide. For a minute before it hits you. Jimin is hugging you tightly. His arms are like protective armors around your body. And oh, how good he feels.

No. No. No

This is what you’ve been so afraid of. Alarm rings in your head as you panic. This is how you fucked up every time. How weak can you be? You try to step away from his embrace when he tightens his grip. Even places his chin on your shoulder. You could’ve been annoyed at the action if it wasn’t for his shaking voice caressing your ear. “Oh god, baby please. Please don’t do this. I know I’m fucking wrong. I know I fucked up again. You deserve the best. You don’t deserve to go through these shits with me. But just give me one chance. Please Lil.” His lips graze over your neck as he tilts his head slightly. A shiver runs through your spine. Your guard is starting to crumble.

God, you need to end this.

“A chance for what Jimin.” You sound exasperated. Tired. Resigned. “What are we even doing? What are you going to do? Why would you want me anyway?” You fail to hold your tears. They roll down your cheeks gracefully. Soothing the sting in your eyes. It’s Jimin who freezes this time. Well, you asked valid questions.

“I-uh-I─”

“See, you don’t even have answers. What are you going to tell me? Are you going to ask me to pretend everything’s fine again? I’m done doing that shit Jimin. It isn’t worth all the risk and the shit we’re going through. Surely, you don’t want me. You can have any woman you want. You can have Liya if you want. You clearly don’t have a reason for wanting me. You don’t want me.” Tangled sobs erupt through your throat as you completely give up trying to free yourself.

“But I do want you.” Jimin mumbles. Almost like a whisper that you nearly don’t catch it. But you do. Your breath catches and heart skips a beat. What does he mean? “I want you so badly. And no, not just to fuck. I just want you.”

“But why?”

“Because you make me feel alive.” This time his voice is perfectly audible. Raised and confident. “I don’t know what I’m feeling Lil. All I know is that I don’t want to lose you. Just don’t do that. Don’t say we need to end things. Sue me for being the biggest asshole in every universe─” Jimin exhales a shaky breath. You can feel him trembling. Oh, why? Why? Why? Why’s he so affected? Why are you so affected? “─but baby please.” He places a gentle kiss on your neck. Soft and sensual. You inhale air shakily. “It’s hard without you. I-I don’t know w-why but I feel so trapped. Gosh I didn’t even know how much I was suffering until you came. You’re just like a quiet magic, and I don’t want to lose that magic.”’

Holy fuck!

What’s happening?

He feels that way too?

He feels trapped and hurt. He feels like you’re his air. Isn’t that exactly how you feel as well. What’s going on? What’s wrong with you two? Well, there were always something wrong with you both and just because you accepted that hasn’t brought you somewhere nice. Look at you. All miserable and crying. You shouldn’t give in. Is hard not to do so when Jimin’s breath is hitting your neck. Hard to do so when he lands another kiss. Then another and another. Keeps his lips on your pulse point. Making your knees weak. You still refuse to give in, however.

“Then what the fuck are we going to do? You keep want to cheat with me?” You force yourself to open your mouth. “You keep want to be the assholes? And for what? What’s going to happen when my time expires? What’s going to happen when I’m no longer here, hm? Then what Jimin?” You bite on your lower lip so hard to control your sobs. If you cry hard your friends would definitely hear you and you don’t want them to find you in this position.

“I told you. I promised you I’m going to turn the world upside down if you still decide to stay after this year. I’m going to do that Lil. I mean it.”

A strained laugh leaves past your dry lips. “As if you would let me go.” A similar sound leaves Jimin’s mouth as well.

“Yeah. I’d never let you go. I plan on making you want to stay.”

“I already want- at least I wanted to stay.”

“Don’t change your mind then. I promise we- I will find a way.”

“And keep going? Keep being your dirty little secret?”

Jimin sighs heavily. “No. I have a plan.” Mumbles. You say nothing. Are bit intrigued. “I just need time. Look, I know we’re complicated and all, but I’ll make sure you get what you deserve. I just need time.” Jimin squeezes you in his hold.

“Time to do what Jimin?” You curiously ask, trying to take a look at his face. He doesn’t allow you to turn your head. Presses his lips further into your sensitive skin.

“To sort everything out.”

To sort everything out?

That doesn’t make sense to you. “What do you mean sort everything out? A-are you planning on br-breaking up with….” You can’t bring yourself to complete the question. Words taste bitter on your tongue. Feels so wrong. A beat of silence passes.

“Yes.” Jimin finally breaks that silence. His answer is clear, but you can hear the guilt in his voice. “And that’s not because of you. No. It’s because that relationship was already over long before you. It isn’t working. I was just reluctant to see it because I was fucking worried of this perfect image. Can’t do it anymore, I need to end that stress. Like you’ve told Taehyung, if we’re not in love we shouldn’t just waste each other’s time. That’s not fair. On me or on her.”  

Oh, you didn’t think Taehyung and Jimin might be sharing that kind of information as well. It seems like they do. And what Jimin says makes sense. Perfectly. You’re really glad that you are not the reason either. It would suck so bad. Selfish, yes. But is good, nonetheless. He, however, hasn’t answered everything yet. You have questions. “Then why do you need time? Why dragging it up?” You weakly voice out your concerns. Feel how he tenses. Weird.

“Uh- it’s you know, not that easy. It’s comp─”

“Complicated. Yes, you’ve said so once and I accepted it without questioning.” A deep sigh leaves Jimin. “I know. I just need time Lil. Can you trust me? Just give me some time.” He takes a second. “Please.” Adds.

Can you just do that. Of course, you can. You believe he has good reasons. Still, though, something is gnawing at your insides. You might not know what’s his so-called complicated reasons are but the fact that he can’t trust you to tell them makes you annoyed. Like he said himself, you deserve better. If you are to put yourself in this mess back again. Until Jimin would sort things out and God knows how long that’d be, you’ll be always left in the dark. You know you’re the secret, but you deserve a little better if not the best. You bring your palms to wipe down your tears.

“Well, then we should wait until you do so Jimin.”

“What?” Jimin pulls away from you fast. Turns you around even faster. “What do you mean?” Search for answers in your eyes.

“We should just go like this until you figure things out.”

“No. Lil. You- I don’t even know how long it’d take, and I don’t think I can go that lon─”

“Then at least you should explain to me the reasons. Why does it take so much time. I need to know why I’m putting myself in such a low position. I want to know if it’s a good reason. If you don’t want to, then I’ll wait till it’s over.” You manage to say it out without wavering your voice. Stern and precise. Jimin keeps staring at your face. It’s only now you notice the redness in his eyes. Glistening. Dark circles under them. Was he crying too? Probably not. Not like you did anyway. But the signs are there.

Why?

You expect Jimin to argue. Try to persuade you. But he surprises you. “Fine. You need an explanation. I’ll give it to you. It’s nothing really, I just- I don’t know, guess I’m embarrassed.” Your heart softens immediately. You open your mouth to say that he doesn’t have to be like that when he doesn’t let you. “Not now though, I guess Jungkook would come searching for you any minute now. Taehyung had to physically restrain him from following me.” A soft laugh escapes you at the mental image that creates in your head. “So, let’s talk baby, hm?” Jimin suggests. A small smile creeping on his godly face. You take a minute. Long one. You shouldn’t do this. Not again. But this time it’s different, right? It is. You hope it is. All you do is nod your head once. That small smile on Jimin’s face cracks into a huge grin. You can’t help but reciprocate it.

“Thank you.” He mumbles. Cups your face. You wait for his lips to press against yours. It doesn’t come. Instead, he presses his lips against your forehead. A tingle runs through your entire body. Tummy fluttering. “Thank you.” Mumbles again.

And you feel all those pains vanish away.

Oh, no this is not good. No matter how hard you try, you always end up back in Jimin’s web. It hasn’t even been two days. But here you are. Back in his arms. You’re failing to keep your control. You’re losing it. This is not good at all.

And your greed, little thing, is about to consume you whole.

You know this path is directed toward your destruction. You’re putting away all the morals. You’re willing to take this risk. Why?

You thought you finally made a decision. To stay away. You thought you’d never turn around. No matter how hard it hurts. How fascinating Jimin is to be able to turn it around. Just few words and you’re swooning. How?

What’s happening to you?

You tilt your head upward to look him in the eyes. Those brown orbs. Still glistening. Speaking thousands of words he isn’t saying with his mouth. Mesmerizing. And you find answers to your questions. It’s like lightning struck right on your head. You think you understand what’s happening. Now and then. Back at the club when everything went down. Yoongi was right. Of course, he was. You were acting stupidly that day. Were mad like a hornet. All because you were jealous. Because it hurt you to see him with Liya. You were seeing red from jealousy. And you were feeling the same this morning as well. When you found Liya and Jimin together. Again. Ridiculous. But that’s what happened. And there’s only one reason that would justify your actions.

Oh, no.

You’re falling for Park Jimin.

That’s what is happening to you. You’ve been falling for Park Jimin ever since the day you woke up next to him. And ever since then, you’ve let yourself keep falling. Now you’re near the very bottom. There’d be no way up. But what can you do, though. It’s already started. You’re falling for him. For Park Jimin.

Falling deep and down.  

..............................................................................................................................

a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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[the-universal-sun]

Hii, I've been reading a lot of you're writing andi love them so much!!! If you feel comfortable enough and only if you want to do you think you could do a sick agere? I forgot if you already done one so if you did you can just ignore this, but if not then can you do one where stan or Ford gets sick while out on the Stan O war and regress from it, thank you, again you don't have to do it or anything thank you!!!

Thank you so much! And of course I'd do it, it was they were both such lovely prompts! I hope you're still here, both of you. Sorry it took so long, and sorry it's been so long since I posted last, I've not been feeling super good myself these past few days. But! I'm feeling loads better now, maybe some rest does do one good! I hope your stomach ache feels better, those are the absolute pits, and I'm sorry you got one.

I have Ford use "stummy" here because I have a tendency to say that so I wanted him to as well. How do we feel about that word/smaller and babier words in general, yay or nay?

I hope you all stay safe out there and in this weather, drink warm and eat warm and bundle up in you need to! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

As always, I welcome any helpful comments and criticisms on my writings.

Thank you for being here!

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"Mmmmmmmh. Buddy!" Ford whined, curled up in Stanley's bed, one hand clutching his stomach and the other his head. He felt terrible. Worse than terrible. He felt awful. His stummy felt like it was rolling down hill, queasy and with sharp pains panging around periodically. His head felt too big, like his brain was going to burst out from all the pressure he felt. And he wanted to sleep, but he couldn't because everything hurt. He hated it. He hated being sick. It wasn't even his fault! Not really, he just got excited about seeing a Kraken that he stayed out in the rain longer than he should have. Stanley can't blame him for being curious, now can he? Not when he's the one encouraging him.

Ford sneezed, his stomach and head rocking. He should have listed to his brother. He sniffled, both from being sick and from holding back his tears. He wanted Stan, his Buddy. He also wanted Dr. Mittens, but he can't until his friend is properly suited up in scrubs and a mask, Ford didn't want Dr. Mittens to get sick like him. That's where Stan was, but he was taking too long, he looked at the clock on the side table. Five whole minutes!? They both should have been here four minutes ago. He opened his mouth to croak for Stan again before he appears right in front of him, slipping on his glasses. When did those get taken off?

"Hold your horses there, Poindexter, I'm here and I've got your little friend. Don't worry, he's all trussed up in that Doctor gear you made us get for him." Stan handed Dr. Mittens, all suited up and ready to safely cuddle Ford through his sickness, to him. He snatched him up, curling his body around his plush friend as his head pounds and pounds. He wants to cry, he thinks to himself, whining against his toy, he hates this so badly. Ford didn't realize he was crying until a tissue is wiping his face dry and Stan is helping him sit up.

"Noooo, don't wan'na get up," He whined through tears, hiccupping and trying to lay back down. Can't Stanley see he's sick?

"Shhh, I know. You want to lay down, I get it, trust me, Buddy, I do. But if you want to feel better, you have to take-take this, uh," Stan hesitated, staring at the warm tea that has a dose of dissolvable Tylenol in it. He hated even talking about medicine, but he has to, he has to take care of Ford. "This tea has some medicine in it-"

"Ugh, icky." a whine interrupted him. And yeah, Stan silently agreed, icky is right.

"No, not icky, Stanford, medicine to help your head feel better. Relieve your sinuct pressure or whatever it's called." Stanley propped Ford up against him. Ford made a face at the word medicine, he hated the taste and feeling of medicine, it made his throat feel icky and greasy, and it tasted to awful. "Listen, it's one o' those sweet berry teas, with some honey, so it should taste sweet enough for you taste buds." Well, Ford thought, honey is good for fighting on the inside germs that make people sick, and he does like fruit teas, so maybe if he can't taste the medicine, it will be fine. But, he clutches his stummy again as pain burst through it, there's one issue.

"Buddy, my stummy hurts, don' know, know if, the tea-" Ford hurt too much to form sentences, whining crying as his head and stummy feel even worse. He hated this. He hates it, he hates it, he hates it. He could feel himself cry, his face felt hot and his head hurt even worse! He just wants to sleep.

"Hey now, Buddy, I'm here, good ol' Stan's right here. Come on, shhh," Stan gathered Ford close and rocked him, one hand rubbing his stomach as he spoke lowly in his brothers ear. It seemed feeling small made Ford unable to hide how out of it and cruddy being sick made him. Stan hated it, how much pain his brother showed he was in, his tears, his sick whines. But on the other hand, Stan could finally take proper care of a sick Ford. Win some, lose some in his opinion. The ends outweigh the means blah blah blah. He was just glad his brother was more receptive and demanding when he's sick and Little, his brother never usually let him take care of him out of some guilt-ridden mentality about being the one to erase Stan's mind. Which is undeserved guilt, but they're working on it. For right now, he just wanted to keep his Little Buddy from crying and get some-ugh-medicine in his to soothe his pains. "Your stummy hurts? Probably from eating a whole bag of jelly beans before bed, right?" He didn't wait for a response, he didn't want to tease his brother too badly when he's regressed, he can't always understand teasing and jokes then. "It's okay, this tea is going to help your head and stummy, and you might even get a nap out of it!" Stan released a strained chuckle, still rubbing Ford's aching stomach, hoping it really did ease his pains. Just because he could better help his brother didn't mean he liked seeing him like this.

Ford felt the cup against his lips and opened them, slowly sipping the tea. It wasn't icky, it didn't taste the best, but if it helped him stop hurting and can make him sleep, then he'd drink. He felt Stan wipe his tears away again as he took small sips out of the plastic cup-it was his special moth cup-slowly so he didn't spill anything. Once finished, he's laid back down in bed, Stan had taken his glasses so he didn't squish them. He felt sort of better, maybe? His head didn't hurt as bad and his stummy didn't feel like it was tumbling down a hill, more like rolling down one. It was an approvement, more so when a hot cloth was put on his face right over his eyes and forehead. Ford sighed and settled further into Stan's bed as the blankets were tucked tightly around him and Dr. Mittens and his weighted one with all the constellations was tucked in over all the rest. Ford felt so comfy and cozy and warm.

"Buddy, I, mmmmmy head doesn't hurt..."Ford trailed off into mumbles. Huh, the tea must be working already, Ford felt so tired, but his stummy and head didn't hurt anymore, so he could actually get asleep now. No, to sleep, he could get to sleep. He couldn't keep his eyes open, one slowly closing, then the other. Ford mumbled more and leaned his head slightly into his brother's hand, the one that swept through his hair. When did that happen? Ford couldn't be bothered to think about that, not when he was so warm and cozy with the Best Brother and Buddy in the world beside him and taking care of him and petting his hair.

The rocking of their boat lulled Ford further into sleep, his stomach settled, his head cleared, and his brother and best friend right beside him.

[guulyya]

Hey!

I have something to post after #charlos breakup, it’s keeping my mind busy the idea of the first day of 16 in Fiorano, where is no 55 anymore… idk it’s more likely platonic and desperate for both of them I would say. I can’t keep it myself so I have to let it out. Hope u like it, I will be very happy to read comments if there are any. xoxo

Fiorano day 1, 2025.

He would only let it ring 3 times and if he didn't answer, he would act like it had never happened.

But Charles wanted him to answer the call so badly. He had been here for years but this was the first time this place felt so strange and cold. How could someone take all the warmth with him when he left? The people around were the same, but everything felt was so different indeed. People called Charles the sun of this place but the real sun wasn't here right now...

"Hola!" - Charles closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch when he heard his voice. Thats it.

"H-hello! Its Charl-"

"I know who is this mate, come on. Whats up?" - you wont wanna know, Charles thought. But then he started talking with the safety he felt from hearing Carlos’ voice. They would talk about anything. They could still talk...right?

"Today is our first day here after the break. W-with new teammate. Everything feels so ridiculous Carlos. You not being here, not fighting together. The marketing meetings and other stuff will start soon. They're going to talk about the new car. The car.. we worked on together. I... I... umm. I wish you were here. This year. I don't know, everything feels so strange." - his thoughts were much more fluent, longer than this, but Charles couldn't find the right words. He missed him. He didn't know how to say it directly. And the silence on the other side grew longer as the seconds passed. With a little hysterical laugh - "I'm babbling again, aren't I? I shouldn't have called you. Sorry for bothe-"

"Charles..." - damn it. He even missed hearing his name. No one pronounced his name like Carlos did. They should have a little more time. Why did it have to be this short? He took a small breath, focued on him. - "..i miss you too."

Charles laughed softly. It was always like this. Carlos could hear even the things he didn't say.

- "The meetings here haven't started yet,”- Carlos contuined, “They're planning it for next week i guess. But ehm.. I was there in my dream today, you know? I was in red. And I was looking around wondering how this happened. I'm so hyped about here, I keep telling myself to get on with it, but I'm still there..in my dreams of course."

Charles’ face lifted with a broken smile. Both of them were desperate in that situation. You couldn't go to anyone and say that we don't want to seperate as teammates, no one would ever take you seriously. Therefore the decision was already made and they just obeyed.

"When I came here today, I had a kind of hope that I would find you in here you know. How ridiculous is this," Charles added, more like he was talking to himself, staring into space. -"As if you'll come out of somewhere by the time I open the door and everything will go back to how it was. Its stupid, eh? You're kilometers away from here."

"I didn't want to go, Charles. I never wanted to."

"I know..." his voice was helpless and quiet. Carlos was the one who was sent away, so was it selfish to call him and complain? But people always talked about those who left, no one cared about those who had to stay behind.

"Tell me a little about there," Carlos said, trying to change the subject "how's the weather? It's so cold here, I miss even the sunshine of the Fiorano." Charles' eyes moved from the wall he was staring to the window, ironically today was gloomy.

"Today is cloudy. I can say it's the coldest day in a long time." Cold in every sense. But he didn't add that. He had already revealed so much. -"Guess what, they’ve pictured that new design to the wall at the entrance you know, and its so stupid, we would joke around it and laugh for like 3 days. It's..its just so ridiculous that you're not here."

"You can still tell me you know..." Charles heard a deep breath from other line and Carlos add -“..I would listen to you for hours.” He knew. It was their thing. They could talk about anything, anytime, anywhere. But would the same thing happen now, on different teams, with different teammates?

Would Carlos talk to Alex for long hours and have ridiculous competations or playing chess? He realized for a moment that there was a pain in his chest when he think about it. Maybe the issue wasn't only Carlos was far away, but also he would be somewhere else with other people, person. Alex. Carlos is that type of person who can get on well with everyone. And what if they can never be the same again while he is on other team? With other teammate. That would mean losing Carlos. Charles couldn't stand the thought. The ache in his chest became more apparent. He had tried not to think about it all break. And he did good, he kept himself busy. But now he couldn’t avoid from these voices.

He got up from where he was sitting and felt that had to end this strange conversation before he got lost in the corridors of his mind.

"You're right. I'll send you its photo!" -He put his hands in his hair and ruffled it. -“I guess I have to go now. See you, Carl-”

“Charles…” - the same tone again. Charles leaned on the wall. He got overwhelmed. The jealosy was already too much to deal and other feelings were keep coming. But being around Carlos was always like that anyway. -“Just focus on your own performance, okay? No matter who is in front of you, you are a perfect teammate. And I… I am just going to another team, but I’ll be around. - Carlos took a little breath. He wanted to Charles got the message. He was not going anywhere, leaving team didnt mean leaving him. He tried to say that but he couldnt find the words. Instead he continued-“Yes… I’ll be around. I’ll still beat you on chess and give very hard time on the race.” Charles smiled softly. Carlos is just like that, he knew him very well to hear even his unspoken fears.

“Yeah you wish…”- he add mockingly “Thank you. You were the best tho. Best teammate. And I mean it. I can’t wait to race for wins against you soon!” - he heard Carlos’ laughter from the other side of the line. And that somehow felt like light of sun.

“Sure, sure. Whatever, I’ll let you go now. Good luck for today.”

“Okay. Thanks. See you.”

“See you.”

After finishing the call, Charles sent a photo of the stupid design and started the messaging that would last all day.

Maybe Carlos was right, maybe this wouldn’t be end.

[lynzishell]

'Song tag - Couples Edition'! Rules: Simply pick one of your OC couples and choose the song that best represents their relationship. Then post the song on your Simblr with a screenshot of your couple. Post the lyrics too if you want, it's up to you! Send this ask to some of your mutuals who also have OCs, or tag them in your post! No obligation, just have fun if you decide to do it! 💖

TY TY @dandylion240, @elderwisp, and @igotsnothing for this Ask/Tag!! Also, sorry it took me so long! I've been meaning to post this one for weeks, but I've been very easily distracted lately! SO, n e way, I'm using the multiple asks/tags as an excuse to share for both Atlas & Asher and Phoenix & Dawn 😊✨💖✨😊

For me, their song will always be A Love Defined by Geographer I think the lyrics are pretty self-explanatory, but every time I listen to this one, it's like I can see them actually singing it to each other, so here are some snips of the most relevant parts:

Came here to love it all Waiting arms I'm waiting on We fall through time Where love Has always been defined ... Oh, I've been searching for your love So long Oh, I get lost inside my thoughts Too much Will you believe in me? So I can believe in us Will you receive my dreams? So I can feel their touch

Aw and of course, their song is the one that Atlas sang for them on their wedding day 🥹 Lost In A Love Song by Geographer

I've been lost in a love song I've known since I was young I can't remember the verses And the chorus is too long I've felt the touch of sun upon my fingers when they were frozen I've slept beside a river where it emptied into the ocean But all that I could beg or steal Pales compared to the notion That love has chosen me

[twst-aceofhearts]

Reddened

a/n: I'm so sorry this took so long TT - there may be a pt 2 idk depends on how busy I'll be with school - also don't ask why i posted this at 2:30 am

~sorry if you're not good at math but I had Yuu be good at it for the sake of this fic~

pairing: Deuce x Yuu

words: 1606

taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @ai-kan1

Deuce has been getting tutored by Yuu due to Professor Crewel’s orders. They didn’t mind, of course! They’ve been friends with Deuce for a while now. Although, lately, he’s been acting a bit weird.

“I-I think I get it now!” Deuce’s face turns red as Yuu’s hand accidentally brushes against his.

Yuu smiled. “That’s good. Here—try one more time and we can take a break.”

Deuce nods, his face still pink. He takes his pencil and answers a math question. “Is this…right…?” He gives a sheepish smile, trying not to look at Yuu directly in the eye.

Yuu picked up his notebook, looking over what he wrote. “It’s right,” They handed it back to him, placing it in front of him.

Deuce lets out an exhale, relief taking over his expression. “I’m really starting to get the hang of this…”

He glances up at Yuu to study their face, his eyes darting from their eyes to the corners of their mouth, then to Yuu’s cheek. He suddenly looks like there’s something on his mind.

Yuu tilted their head. “Deuce?”

Deuce quickly turns away, trying to hide his reddening face. He’s been staring at Yuu for a moment too long and he knows it. He doesn’t exactly know how to respond when Yuu addresses it.

“Huh?” he says, his voice cracking. “I-I’m just thinking.” 

His hands fidget with the pen in his hands, still avoiding eye-contact.

“Uh…okay. You want to go grab a drink from the vending machine and take a break?” Yuu paid no mind to it, rummaging through their bag for their wallet.

“S-sure, yeah, that sounds good!” Deuce replies. The break would give him the chance to clear his head a little.

Deuce shuts the textbook, placing his pen on top of the hard cover. He stands up, waiting for Yuu to do the same.

Yuu nodded, finding their wallet and standing up beside him. “Let’s go.”

Deuce follow Yuu, walking out of the library. He can’t help but sneak glances at Yuu from time to time as they make their way down the hall. He struggles to keep his eyes on the path ahead of him, his eyes darting away whenever they looked in his direction, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Yuu suddenly stopped in place, causing him to bump into them. Deuce lets out a surprised ‘oof’ as he collides into them. He stumbles back a little, regaining his footing before addressing Yuu. 

“Why’d you stop? What’s the matter?”

Yuu raised an eyebrow at him, pointing at the vending machine beside themself.

Deuce’s eyes followed the direction of their finger. He blinked once before he realized what they were pointing at. “O-oh,” he mutters, “right…”

With Yuu standing so close next to him, Deuce is becoming aware of his body, and the fact that him and Yuu were practically touching.

“Which one do you want?” Yuu went through their wallet, taking out a few thaumarks.

It takes a second for Deuce’s mind to understand what Yuu was asking. He’s too focused on the feeling of Yuu being right next to him. “Huh? Oh, um…”

He quickly scans the drink selection, searching for the one he likes. The last thing he wanted to do was make them wait long enough for Yuu to get suspicious of his behavior. “I’ll take the strawberry one,” he answers, “if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yuu inserted the thaumarks, getting a strawberry for Deuce and a [flavor] one for themself.

Deuce watches as Yuu use the vending machine to get the drinks. His heart is racing, still trying to calm his nerves. He mentally scolds himself for being flustered over something as stupid as standing too close to them. Yuu has done things like this before plenty of times. Why was it bothering him so much now?

Deuce lets out a defeated huff, accepting that he’s going to continue feeling this way for the rest of the day. He can only hope to not act like too much of an idiot around them.

“We should go back now before someone steals our stuff,” Yuu handed him his drink, before taking a sip of their own.

Deuce nods in agreement, taking the drink from their hand. He’s still feeling a little flustered, and he’s worried they might notice. He  takes a sip of the drink in order to avoid having to speak.

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

While walking back, Yuu suddenly spoke up. “Can I try yours?”

Deuce nearly chokes on his drink when they ask him to share. He wasn’t expecting anything like that, swallowing hard before stammering a response. 

“U-uh, sure…?”

Yuu let out a grateful hum, drinking from the straw—the same straw where he drank from.

Deuce stares in silent shock. When Yuu pulled away, he’s left a little breathless. He didn’t even think that they’d want to do that. The act of sharing a drink felt very personal to him—not that he’s opposed to the idea. In fact, he’s already imagining drinking from the same place as them again.

“Here you go. It’s refreshing. You have good taste,” Yuu complimented, handing him his drink back.

Deuce manages to find the words to speak again, a little embarrassed by Yuu’s compliment. He takes the drink back, wrapping his fingers around the plastic bottle. 

“Y-yeah, it’s my favorite,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. Taking their praise like that made  him flustered in a way he couldn’t explain. He wanted to hear them say that again, and again, and again.

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

Back in the library, Yuu plopped down in their chair, letting out a small sigh—relieved that nothing was stolen.

Deuce follows Yuu’s lead, sitting next to them. He’s still feeling the after effects of their compliment—he had practically been left speechless afterwards. Even now, he’s silently fidgeting with his hands. He glances in Yuu’s direction from the corner of his eye. He was wondering if Yuu could see how red his cheeks were.

“...Deuce? Are you okay? Your face is redder than Riddle’s hair,” Yuu chuckled, opening the textbook once more to start the next topic.

Deuce’s eyes snap to Yuu when they address his red face. He silently panics, trying to think of a way to respond that wouldn’t be suspicious.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine!” He tries to laugh it off, but it comes across as a little too hasty. “It’s just a little warm in here, that’s all!”

“...? It’s 60 degrees (F) in here though plus air conditioning,” Yuu blinked twice while looking up, their eyes meeting his.

Deuce winces a little at their comment. He knows it’s not real convincing, but he it’s not like he can suddenly drop the “Oh yeah, I have a crush on you” card right away at random. 

As Yuu’s eyes meet his, he could suddenly feel the redness in his cheeks spreading to his ears.

“I-I don’t know, I guess I’m just…” he trails off, looking for a way to end his sentence that isn’t a lie. “I’m just feeling a little off today, that’s all.”

Yuu shrugged, pushing the textbook with the correct page in front of him. “If you say so.”

Deuce lets out a quiet sigh of relief as they drop the subject. He’s silently grateful that Yuu hadn’t pushed anything further, turning his attention to the hardcover book in front of him and trying to focus on what he’s supposed to do. There were still things he needed to fully get a grasp of.

After a moment, Deuce speaks up again. “Can I ask you something really fast?”

Deuce hesitates, not sure how to phrase his question. Well, go big or go home as they say.

“How do you know if you, um…have feelings for someone?”

“...oh wow,” Yuu was expecting a question more related to the topic of geometry, not…relationship advice. 

“Well…” they trailed off. “...I guess if you feel happy with them and look forward to seeing them again.”

“Right,” he nods. That’s a given, he thought. There were more specific signs he was wondering about though.

“What if you also get really…flustered when you’re around them. Like, you get this feeling in your chest, and your heart starts beting really fast. And you can’t concentrate on anything else because they’re the only thing on your mind. And when they stand too close, you get all dizzy and stuff…is that a sign of having feelings for someone?”

Yuu blinked. “That’s oddly specific. Do you have a crush on someone or something?”

Deuce freezes at their question, his eyes wide. It was like the read his mind. “I…I’m just curious,” he says, trying to keep a composed tone. It’s a little strained.

“Then…yeah. That too.”

Deuce nods in response, trying to hide his nervousness. Their words don’t help him feel any better about his situation. If anything he’s more flustered now.

He thinks back to all the times he’d experienced all the things he asked them about—of all the times it happened around them. The realization causes him to feel his heart pound in his chest again. It definitely wasn’t just a small crush he had on Yuu.

“...Deuce, you know you can tell me anything right?”

Deuce looks back up, making eye contact. He can see that genuine look in their eyes—they’re being serious right now, silently telling him he doesn’t have to hide anything from Yuu.

He’s a little torn on what he should do. Should he be honest with you—telling you the truth? Should he try and push these feelings away—hoping they go away eventually? After a moment of silence, Deuce musters up enough courage to answer. 

“Yeah… I know.”

credit to @cafekitsune for divider

[helloimapinkfrog]

FUNDRAISERS THAT HAVE REACHED OUT TO ME - PART ONE

LAST UPDATE JAN 4TH 2025 - 22:42 GMT

part 2

I have recieved many asks and dms but unfortunately i didnt have time to check them till very recently (i was overwhelmed with school) so im making this. im so sorry this took so long

Most of these are vetted, while some seem legitimate and have protected donating. please feel free to correct me if any of the info here is incorrect! i am making multiple parts since tumblr posts have a link limit

!!!!! I AM NOT QUALIFIED TO VET !!!!! i am simply sharing the information i find

@helpyusuf - vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (line 77) (more info here)

@safaamo - vetted by 90-ghost

@m7meds - not vetted but seems legitimate

@asmaayyad - vetted by gazavetters(line 43)

@haneenmohamaad - vetted by 90-ghost

Yousef Hussein - vetted by 90-ghost

@abdelmutei - vetted by 90-ghost

@leen-gaza - vetted by 90-ghost

@bilalassadabedrabou - vetted by 90-ghost

@alhabil - vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (line 166)

@abedallhferwanagaza - vetted by gazavetters(line 60)

@safaaabeed - vetted by 90-ghost

@osamathaers-blog - vouched by a vetted source

@hayanahed - vetted by oob (masterlist line 26)

@ahmad-syam2 - vetted by gazavetters(line 84)

@atalah-mohammed - vetted by 90-ghost

@abedalazeiz - vetted by 90-ghost

@mohammedaldeeb - vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (line 212)

@ahmed-ziad - vetted by nabulsi

@save-mohamed-family - vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (line 192)

@rehamalanqar - from what i can tell is the same person as line 14 on gazavetters

@olasfamily - vetted by 90-ghost

@mahmoudayy33 - vetted by 90-ghost

@ahmadresh - vetted by 90-ghost

@fidaa-family2 - vetted by 90-ghost

@noor-family - vetted by 90-ghost

@saveyouseffamily - vetted by Butterfly Effect Project (line 406)

@wafaaresh - vetted by 90-ghost

@ehabayyad24 - not vetted but seems legitimate

@abdullahgaza - vetted by oob (masterlist line 81)

Mahmoud Baalou - vetted by 90-ghost

@rhq2744 - vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (line 221)

@ghaziyounes1967 - vetted by 90-ghost

@kefahfamily - vetted by association

@saveranafamily - vetted by association

@mahmoud1995 - vetted by 90-ghost

@odayfamily - vetted by el-shab-hussein

@selinps1 - not vetted but seems legitimate

@ahmed-fathi-gaza - vetted by 90-ghost

@waledps - vetted by 90-ghost

@lemodaz196 - vetted by 90-ghost

@rehab02 - vetted by bilal-salah0 (apparenly had a gfm that reached its goal but has now a campaign on chuffed)

@helpamalsfamily - vetted by hayanahed

@hasanalserr7 - not vetted but looks legitimate

@basel1995s - vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (line 214)

@shimaashaban22 - vetted by 90-ghost

@yousefjehad3 - vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (line 255)

@eman-kha - vetted by 90-ghost

@mohammed-gaza13 - previous campaign vetted by association

@mohammednasser - not vetted but looks legitimate

@etafalqattaa - vetted by gazavetters(line 88)

@mohammedayyads-blog - vetted by bilal-salah0

@eslamfamily - vetted by 90-ghost

@farahmohamed2005 - vetted by gaza-evacuation-funds

@ahmad-gaza - vetted by association

@ahmed0khalil - vetted by 90-ghost

@yousef-falestinef - vetted by 90-ghost

@family-emtithal - vetted by gaza-evacuation-funds

@rakan2010 - vetted by 90-ghost

@himaa12345 - not vetted but looks legitimate

@ahmadallouh32 - not vetted but looks legitimate

@ranensworld - not vetted but looks legitimate

@tahseenfamily - vetted by 90-ghost

@hadiah1111 - vetted by 90-ghost

@eyad-alanqar255 - vetted by nabulsi

@nevinalser - vetted by gaza-evacuation-funds

@mohammedraed - not vetted but looks legitimate

@hashemsh12 - vetted by 90-ghost

@abuadam1 - vetted by gazavetters(line 187)

@bshaeromars-blog - vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (line 231)

@mohammedatallah - vetted by 90-ghost

@ameenayasser - vetted by gazavetters(line 19)

@nurrrthings - not vetted but looks legitimate

@aseelo6 - vetted by 90-ghost (more info here)

@lobna1 - vetted by gazavetters(line 1)

@hanaa-yousef - vetted by 90-ghost

@mahmoudalser - not vetted but looks legitimate

@samaagaza - vetted by association

@mohammednfamily - vetted by gazavetters(line 11)

@nisreensuhail - vetted by gazavetters(line 75)

@rewaa04 - vetted by gaza-evacuation-funds

@abed-rashad13 - vetted by el-shab-hussein

@ma7moudgaza2 - vetted by el-shab-hussein

@a7mednase - not vetted but looks legitimate

@alaa-gaza - vetted by association

@mhmood2 - vetted by gazavetters(line 365)

@karemandohan1999 - vetted by 90-ghost

@nabelamohamed - vetted by 90-ghost

@esraamohammead - vetted by 90-ghost

@aligaza453 - vetted by gazavetters(line 373)

@ayooshgaza - vetted by gaza-evacuation-funds

@nadafarra82 - vetted by 90-ghost

@mohammedalnasla7 - vetted by gazavetters(line 261)

@abod20002 - vetted by 90-ghost

@noarfamily - vetted by 90-ghost

@mohiyfamily12 - vetted by 90-ghost

@yosef-gaza113 - vetted by gazavetters(line 251)

@amaar-hamaad - vetted by 90-ghost

@hudafamily55 - vetted by gazavetters(line 325)

@ahmad1988 - not vetted but looks legitimate

@mo-shamiaa - vetted by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi (line 7)

@shamia962 - vetted by gazavetters(line 82)

@anasfamilys - vetted by gazavetters(line 29)