#when this is the only life i remember anymore?

[lee-laurent]

Romeo and Juliet - Jack Hughes

Summary: Jack falls for the new owner of the Devils' daughter

content: reverse of a slowburn (they move really fast)

wc: 14k

notes: requested!! i'm sorry this took sooooo long! school is kicking my ass :(( but i really liked writing this! i rewrote it like twelve times until i finally found an angle i liked and i hope you guys enjoy it too! keep on sending in requests :))

Remi Bouchard stood awkwardly behind her dad, arms crossed and weight shifting from one foot to the other, as he talked to his new team, droning on and on about his expectations. She'd heard this speech before--different team, same lines. Discipline. Effort. Respect. Her dad always delivered it like he was audtioning for a role in a sports movie, with the same rehearsed authority and clipped tone.

Behind his back, she rolled her eyes. This time, though, she wasn't sitting in the bleachers or tucked away in the family section. No, this time, he'd insisted she stand behind him, a silent reminder to everyone in the room that he was not only their new coach, but also her father. Like she needed that.

Her gaze drifted lazily across the room. Players filled the chairs, leaning back like they'd heard their fair share of speeches too. A few were older, veterans whose faces she vaguely recognized from highlight reels. The rest were younger--fresh-faced rookies and players just hitting their stride.

Her eyes landed on a guy near the back, sitting with one ankle propped on his knee. His light brown hair was messy in a way that looked accidental but wasn't, and a lopsided grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he whispered something to the guy beside him. Whatever it was must've been funny, because the other guy was fighting to keep a straight face.

Interesting.

Remi tilted her head, letting her gaze linger a second longer than she should have. She'd always been good at reading people--better than her dad, anyway--and something about him stood out. He didn't look nervous or overly respectful like some of the others. He looked... comfortable. Like he knew exactly who he was and didn't feel the need to apologize for it.

Her dad's voice snapped her back to reality.

"And remember, gentlemen, this season isn't just about talent--it's about discipline. Off the ice as well as on. That's what wins cups."

She fought the urge to groan. Discipline was her dad's favourite word, and he'd wielded it like a weapon her entire life. No late nights. No parties. No distractions. Her curfew in high school had been earlier than the local diner closed. Even now, at 19, he still acted like he needed his permission to make a decision.

But that was the thing about being 19. She didn't need anyone's permission--not anymore.

When her dad finally wrapped up his speech, he turned to her with a rare, tight-lipped smile. "Remi, why don't you introduce yourself?"

Her stomach twisted. She'd spent most of her life being introduced as "Phil Bouchard's daughter," and it didn't look like that was changing anytime soon. Still, she managed a polite smile, the one she'd perfected after years of playing nice for her dad's sake.

"Hi," she said, her voice cutting through the murmurs in the room. "I'm Remi. My dad's the coach--obviously. But don't let him fool you; he's not that scary."

There was a ripple of polite laughter, but her eyes were fixed on the guy in the back. His lopsided grin had widened into a full-on smirk now, and for the first time, she felt her own smile shift into a real one.

~~

The players were filing out, some offering polite nods to her dad as they passed. Remi stayed in the corner, checking her phone out of habit, when a voice grabbed her attention.

"So, Coach's not that scary?"

She looked up to find the guy from earlier standing a few feet away, hands shoved in the pocket of his Devils branded sweatpants, the same smirk on his face. Up close, he was even more annoyingly attractive.

"Not unless you cross him," she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"Good to know." He extended a hand. "Jack Hughes."

"Remi Bouchard," she replied, shaking it. His grip was confident and lingered long enough to make her heart skip.

"I figured," Jack said. "Your dad's been saying 'my daughter' every five minutes."

She laughed despite herself. "Yeah, he's good at that."

"Is he good at coaching too, or should I be worried?"

Remi hesitated for a beat, then leaned in slightly, her voice dropping low enough to make him lean in too. "Let's just say... don't expect to sleep in."

Jack's laugh was genuine, bright, and made her stomach flutter.

"Noted," he stood up straight. "Guess I'll see you around, Bouchard."

And with that, he was gone, leaving her standing there, slightly breathless and entirely annoyed at how much she'd enjoyed that.

The locker room emptied quickly after that. Remi stayed put, scrolling aimlessly through her phone as her dad exchanged a few last words with his assistant coaches. She didn't need to look up to know he was shooting her occasional glances, making sure she wasn't doing anything embarrassing.

When the other coaches finally left the room, her dad turned to her, his expression shifting into something softer, but no less authoritative.

"Thanks for sticking around today, kid," he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Didn't really have a choice, did I?" she replied, her tone just sharp enough to sting.

Phil frowned, his grip tightening slightly before he let go. "I just want you to understand what's at stake here. This team is a fresh start for me--and for us. I'm counting on you to make a good impression. That means no antics, Remi. No sneaking around, no hanging out with the players, no late nights."

Her jaw tightened. The rules. Always the rules. No matter where they moved or how many teams he coached, her dad never let up. She was 19 years old, a legal adult, and he still talked to her like she was a teenager that couldn't be trusted.

"Got it," she said flatly, shoving her phone into her pocket. "Are we done?"

Phil's frown deepened, but he nodded. "Go home. I'll meet you there after meetings."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked out, her heart pounding with anger. The hallway leading out of the arena was dimly lit, her footsteps echoing loudly in the empty space. Her dad's words replayed in her mind, each one sharpening her resentment like a knife.

No antics. No hanging out with players.

The absurdity of it made her laugh under her breath. Like she couldn't handle herself. Like she wasn't already smarter, sharper, and more aware of the world than he gave her credit for.

The truth was, she'd been good for too long. For years, she'd followed his rules, played the perfect daughter, sat quietly by the sidelines of his career. And what had it gotten her? A suffocating shadow she couldn't escape.

She paused at the edge of the parking lot, looking back at the arena. Most of the players were gone by now, but a few stragglers were still lingering by their cars. Her eyes scanned the lot until they landed on him. Jack Hughes.

He was leaning against the driver's side door of his car, his stupid smirk still on his face. His posture was relaxed, lazy, like he had all the time in the world.

He's exactly the kind of guy Dad would hate me hanging out with.

The thought struck her with startling clarity. Jack wasn't just charming and attractive--he was off-limits. A walking, talking rebellion waiting to happen. And the best part? Her dad had basically handed her the idea on a silver platter.

She could hear the protests in his voice already. Stay away from him, Remi. You're going to embarrass me. You don't know what you're doing.

A slow, wicked grin spread across her face. Maybe she didn't know exactly what she was doing yet, but she knew enough. She wasn't going to sit around and let her dad dictate her life any longer. If he wanted her to stay away from Jack Hughes, well, that was exactly who she'd be spending her time with.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her attention. Her best friend, Talia, was texting her.

Talia: how's hockey prison? are you surviving?

Remi smirked, fingers flying across the screen.

Remi: barely. but i've got a plannnn. stay tuned

She glanced at Jack again. This wasn't just about pissing off her dad--it was about proving, to herself and to him, that she was in control of her own life. And Jack Hughes? He was going to help her do exactly that.

She walked over to him, smoothing down her hair and tugging at the hem of her jacket, wanting to look like she wasn't psyching herself up to do this.

Jack didn't notice her approach until she was a few feet away. He glanced up, his face shifting to surprise, then to a lazy grin that had her weak in the knees.

"Didn't think I'd see you again tonight," he said.

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Figured I'd say hi before you forgot about me."

"Not a chance. Coach's daughter isn't exactly forgettable."

Her laugh came easily, and she stepped closer, leaning against the car beside him. "Well, that's reassuring. So, what's the team's golden boy still doing here? Everyone else has cleared the fuck out."

Jack tilted his head. "Golden boy? That's a stretch."

"Come on," she teased, bumping her shoulder against his. "Don't play humble with me. I saw you back there, all comfortable and confident. You're not like the others."

"Is that a good thing?" he smirked.

"That depends. Do you live up to the hype?"

Jack chuckled, the sound warm and low. "Guess you'll have to stick around and find out."

For a split second, her resolve wavered. It would be so easy to fall into this, to let herself believe this wasn't just a game she was playing. But she couldn't afford that--not now. She had a point to prove, and he was the perfect way to do it.

"So," she said, smoothly changing the subject, "is this how you always spend your Friday nights? Hanging out in parking lots and scrolling through Instagram?"

Jack leaned back, crossing his arms. "Only when I'm waiting for someone interesting to show up."

"Oh?" she arched a brow. "And did they?"

"Yeah," he held her gaze. "They did."

The flutter in her chest was stronger this time, and she quickly buried it beneath a playful grin. "Well, I hate to disappoint, but I'm not that interesting."

"Not buying it," he shook his head. "I've got a feeling you're full of surprises."

"Maybe you'll find out."

Jack pushed off his car, standing just a little closer than before. "Guess I'll have to stick around, then," he teased.

Remi glanced up at him, her heart pounding. This is working. She didn't need to push too hard--just enough to keep him hooked, to let him think this was real. It almost felt real. And that was the dangerous part.

"Well," she stepped back just far enough to break the moment, "don't let me keep you here all night."

Jack hesitated, then pulled his car keys from his pocket. "Alright, Bouchard. But don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," she replied, her voice light and breezy as she turned and walked away.

When she reached her car, her phone buzzed with another text from Talia.

Talia: details. now.

Remi: step 1: complete. he's hooked

As she hit send, she glanced in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Jack's car pulling out of the lot. This was just the beginning.

~~

Remi leaned against the railing of the bleachers in the practice rink, her legs crossed casually as she scrolled through Instagram to see what her friends back in Toronto were up to. The team was midway through drills, her dad barking instructions from the bench, his voice echoing through the room.

But when she was looking up, her attention wasn't on her dad. It was on him.

Jack was mid-drill, skating backward as he tracked a pass, his stick carrying the puck across the ice. He made it look so easy--like he was born to do this. The precision in his movements was almost hypnotic.

When the whistle blew, signaling a break, Jack skated toward the bench for water. He looked upward--just for a second--and locked eyes with her. Remi played it cool, offering him a small wave and a teasing smirk.

Jack raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a grin that was equal parts amused and intrigued. He didn't break their eye contact as he lifted the water bottle, taking a long sip like he was trying to show off to her in the oddest way.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. Subtlety clearly wasn't his strong suit.

As the players began to scatter for the next drill, Jack skated over to the boards near where she stood. Leaning his forearms casually on top of the plastic, he tilted his head up at her.

"Didn't realize this practice was open to spectators," he teased.

"It's not," she replied, moving down a couple rows. "I'm special."

"Special, huh?" He smirked. "Is that why you're standing up there, judging my every move?"

"Who says I was judging?" she shot back. "Maybe I was admiring."

Jack blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly recovered. "Careful, Bouchard. Keep talking like that and I'll start thinking you're here just to see me."

She grinned, "Maybe I am."

The whistle blew again, cutting through their moment. Jack glanced back at the ice, where the rest of the team was already setting up for the next drill.

"Duty calls," he said, skating backward to keep his eyes on her. "But don't go anywhere. I'll be looking for you when we're done."

"I'll think about it," she sassed, turning to leave.

~~

The smell of sweat hit her as the players filtered into the locker room, chatting as they pulled off their gear. Remi stood near the wall, pretending not to notice the attention her presence was drawing.

Jack was one of the last to come off the ice, his jersey slung over one jersey and his sweat damp with sweat. When he spotted her, his pace slowed, his grin widening as he veered her way.

"You know," he said, stopping just a little to close, "if you keep showing up like this, people are going to start talking."

"Talking about what?" she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes.

"About how the coach's daughter has a thing for the team's centre," he replied, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Remi raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. "Who says I don't?"

Jack blinked, his confidence faltering for a fraction of a second before he let out a soft laugh. "You're dangerous, you know that?"

"Am I?" she deliberately took a step closer.

"Definitely," his voice dropped even lower.

Before he could say more, the sound of her dad's voice calling her name echoed down the hall. Jack immediately straightened, stepping back like a kid caught his hand in the cookie jar.

"Don't worry," she whispered, brushing past him. "I won't tell."

As she walked away, she glanced back over her shoulder just in time to catch the look on his face--amusement and exasperation. It sent a thrill racing through her, and for the first time, she realized how much she was enjoying this.

~~

Remi wandered through the small crowd, her dad occupied with his assistant coaches on the other side of the lounge. Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on Jack, who was standing by the snack table with a few teammates.

When their eyes met, his face lit up, and he excused himself, weaving through the crowd to meet her halfway.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft and warm. "You didn't come down to congratulate me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she teased, crossing her arms. "Do you require special acknowledgment for doing your job?"

Jack laughed, shaking his head. "I thought you might be impressed."

She tilted her head, pretending to consider. "I guess you were okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, placing a hand over his heart like he'd been mortally wounded. "Tough crowd."

"Don't worry," she said, her smile turning mischievous. "I'll be sure to send you a participation ribbon."

Jack leaned in slightly, his grin becoming more genuine. "How about dinner instead?"

His tone, his expression--there was nothing calculated about it. He was just... sincere. And that made her next move feel all the more like a game.

"Maybe," she took a step back. "If you're lucky."

She walked away, leaving Jack standing there, shaking his head with a smile that said he was already hooked.

~~

Remi laughed softly as she collapsed onto Jack's couch, kicking off her sneakers and tucking her legs under herself. His apartment was a reflection of him--casual, but inviting, with a lingering smell of cologne that was distinctly Jack.

She'd finally taken him up on his dinner offer and it had been the most fun she'd had in a long time.

"You're way too good at losing track of time," Jack said, joining her with two beers in hand. He offered her one, his knee brushing against hers as he settled beside her.

"Time's a construct," she quipped, taking the bottle, glad he had already removed the cap. She leaned back, letting her head rest against the cushion. "And I was having fun."

Jack gave her a crooked smile. "Fun, huh? Is that all I am to you?"

"Oh, don't fish for compliments," she teased, knocking his shoulder with hers. "You're more than fun. You're..." She pretended to think, her smile widening as his expression grew mock-serious. "Moderately entertaining."

Jack rolled his eyes, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "Moderately entertaining? Guess I'll have to up my game."

Before she could reply, he leaned in, his hand sliding along her jaw as his lips found hers. The kiss was warm and confident, tasting of beer and italian food, deepening quickly as he tilted her head back. Remi melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as he pressed closer, his weight shifting to pin her against the couch.

The outside world melted away, leaving only the heat of his hands as they pulled her shirt up and the intoxicating way he kissed her--like she was the only thing that mattered. His hands roamed over her waist, her thighs, pulling her against him with a hunger that made her heart beat faster. They quickly stripped down to their underwear, shifting to lay on the couch.

She pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, "I'm gonna ruin you, Hughes."

He laughed softly, his forehead resting against hers. "Pretty sure it's the other way around."

Remi reached into the pocket of her discarded jeans, pulling out a case containing a neatly rolled blunt. She held it up between them, her lip pulled between her teeth. "Wanna test that theory?"

Jack raised an eyebrow, but propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she lit the blunt with practiced ease. She took a slow drag, blowing the smoke out in a lazy swirl before handing it to him.

"D'you always carry these around?" he asked, taking it from her and mimicking her movements.

"Only when I'm feeling inspired," she replied, slipping out from under him and onto the floor, patting the space beside her. "Come on. The couch is overrated."

Jack joined her, body sprawling out beside hers as they passed the blunt back and forth. The room filled with the soft haze of smoke, and the tension that had been simmering between them shifted into something more intimate.

"What's your biggest secret?" she asked suddenly, her head turned to look at him.

Jack exhaled a puff of smoke, his brows furrowing as he thought. "Biggest secret? Probably that I suck at cooking."

Remi laughed, elbowing his side. "Come on, Hughes. You can do better than that."

"Alright... I hate how much I care about what people think of me. On the ice, off the ice. It's exhausting sometimes."

Remi blinked, surprised by the raw honesty in his voice. She handed him the blunt, her tone gentler. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you're doing just fine."

Jack smiled, taking a drag. "Your turn. Biggest secret."

"I don't think I've ever really been myself," she admitted. "Not around my dad, not around anyone. It's like... I'm always trying to be what people expect."

Jack reached over, his fingers brushing hers. "You're pretty damn great as you are."

The sincerity in his voice made her chest ache, and for the first time, she wondered if she'd underestimated him.

~~

Jack hovered nervously by the back door, his hoodie pulled low over his head, scanning the dark backyard like they were in a spy movie. "I still think this is a terrible idea."

"That's because you're boring," Remi whispered back, pulling her house key from her pocket. The lock clicked softly, and she pushed the door wide with a grin. "See? Easy."

Jack stepped inside hesitantly, wincing when the hinges creaked. "If he catches me--"

"He won't," she cut, turning to grab his hand. Her fingers were warm, steady, and the quick squeeze she gave his palm sent a shiver up his arm. "He's been passed out for hours. I'd know--I checked."

"That's reassuring," he muttered, letting her pull him forward.

The house was dark and still, the only sound the faint hum of the refridgerator in the kitchen. Jack couldn't help but glance around as they moved through the house, his grip on her hand tightening every time the floorboards creaked under their weight.

"This is ridiculous," he hissed when they reached the staircase. "Your dad's not just anyone, Remi. He's my coach. My fucking boss."

She paused mid-step, turning to look at him with a smirk that made his pulse quicken. "And yet you're the one who keeps following me."

He opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut when she tugged on his hand again, pulling him up the stairs. His heart hammered as they passed the closed door to what he could only assume was her dad's bedroom, the faint sound of snoring filtering through the wood.

When they finally reached her bedroom, Remi pushed him inside, locking the door behind them. Jack leaned back against it, exhaling hard as he ran a hand through his hair. "You're gonna get me benched."

She rolled her eyes, stepping closer until her body was pressed against his. "You're too good. He'd never bench you."

"You sure about that?" he mumbled, his voice dropping as his hands slid instinctively to her hips.

"Positive," she replied, tipping her head back to meet his gaze. "Besides, you'll be worth it."

His breath caught, her confidence making him forget how bad of an idea this was. She was dangerous, magnetic, and impossible to resist.

"God, you're reckless," his voice was rough as he leaned down to kiss her.

Her reply was lost against his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hoodie as they stumbled toward the bed.

~~

The room was quiet now, save for the sound of their heavy breathing. Remi lay sprawled across the sheets, her bare skin still warm from Jack's touch. His arm was draped lazily across her waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her ribs as he stared up at the ceiling.

"You okay?" he asked almost hesitantly.

She turned her head to look at him, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Better than okay."

Jack laughed under his breath, pulling her closer. "Good. 'Cause I don't think I'll survive your dad murdering me."

She shook her head, leaning up to press a kiss to the faint red marks she'd left along his collarbone. "Relax. He doesn't need to know."

But as her hand slid across his chest, his fingers gently caught her wrist. His gaze turned serious, searching hers. "You're sure about this? About us?"

For a split second, she hesitated. The way he looked at her--like she was something precious, something worth risking everything for--made her chest tighten in a way she wasn't used to. But she pushed the thought aside, flashing him a toothy grin. "I'm sure."

Jack smiled, leaning down to kiss her again, and the warmth of his hand on her waist made her forget everything else.

~~

Remi slipped into the kitchen the next morning, a slight ache in her muscles and a satisifed smirk on her lips. She was pouring a cup of coffee when her dad walked in, his expression already tense.

"Morning," she said lightly, leaning against the counter.

Phil frowned, eyes narrowing as he studied her. "What's on your neck?"

She instinctively lifted a hand to cover the faint bruise Jack had left just above her collarbone. "Nothing," she lied, turning to grab her mug.

"Don't 'nothing' me," he snapped, stepping closer. "That's a hickey. Who were you with?"

"I don't think that's any of your business," she said, her tone sharper than she intended.

Phil's jaw clenched, his frustration spilling over. "It is my fucking business, Remi. I know boys. Most of them are players who don't care about anything but themselves. I'm not letting you ruin your life for some--"

"I'm not ruining anything!" she snapped, slamming her mug onto the counter, coffee sloshing over the side. "God, Dad, I'm not a kid anymore! You can't control who I spend my time with."

~~

The parking lot was empty except for a few scattered cars. Jack leaned against the driver's side door of his car, his hockey bag tossed in the backseat.

"You waiting for me again?" Remi asked, stopping a few feet away.

"Maybe. Can you blame me?"

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing the edge of his jacket. "Not really."

The space between them disappeared as he pulled her in, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was hungry, insistent. Her hands slid up his chest, tangling in the collar of his coat as she pressed herself against him.

Jack groaned softly, his hands gripping her waist as he slid his tongue into her mouth. The cool night air was forgotten, replaced by the warmth of her body and the breathy sounds she made against his mouth.

But the sound of footsteps nearby made them both freeze. Jack pulled back, his heart hammering as he glanced over his shoulder. A security guard was walking along the far side of the lot, his flashlight swinging lazily across the pavement.

"Shit," Jack whispered, running a hand through his tangled hair. "We need to be more careful."

Remi smirked. "Scared, Hughesy?"

He shook his head, exhaling a shaky laugh. "No, just trying not to get caught."

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "Where's the fun in that?"

~~

Jack adjusted the collar of his jacket as he led Remi down the familiar hallway to his apartment. He'd suggested they grab dinner at his place after practice--a casual way for her to meet someone close to him. Remi had agreed, though the idea of meeting Luke like this had left a gnawing pit in her stomach.

"Relax," Jack said, glancing back at her as they stopped outside the door. "Luke's chill. He'll be excited to meet you."

"Oh, I'm sure," Remi replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your teammate-slash-brother who's seen me sulking around the rink for weeks? I bet he'll have no questions."

Jack smirked, unlocking the door. "You're overthinking it."

The door swung open, revealing Luke in a Devils hoodie and sweats, his hair damp like he'd just showered. His eyes flickered between Jack and Remi, surprise flashing across his face before he smiled.

"Hey. You actually did bring someone."

"Funny," Jack said, clapping his brother on the shoulder as he walked past. "Remi, this is Luke. Luke, Remi."

Remi extended a hand. "Nice to finally meet you outside of the rink."

Luke shook her hand. "You too. I, uh, I've seen you around a lot. Heard even more."

"Good things, I hope," she replied, shooting Jack a pointed look.

"All good," Luke said quickly, though his smile was tight. She could tell he was connecting the dots in his head.

Remi Bouchard. Coach's daughter. And now... whatever she was to Jack.

They moved into the living room, Jack dropping onto the couch and gesturing for Remi to join him. Luke disappeared into the kitchen, returning with beers. He handed one to Jack and set one on the table in front of Remi.

"So, how'd this happen?" he asked, sitting in the chair opposite them. His tone was casual, but his were sharp, darting between the two of them.

"What, you think I can't pull someone like her?" Jack teased.

"I didn't say that," Luke said quickly. "Just... isn't it... complicated?"

Remi stiffened slightly, but Jack just laughed, taking a swig of his beer. "Not as complicated as you'd think."

Luke's expression didn't change, and the weight of it made Remi shift uncomfortably. She could tell he wanted to ask more--probably about her dad, about how much he knew--but he held back, choosing to make small talk instead.

The evening passed with relative ease, though there was a tension lingering below the surface. Luke was polite, funny, but Remi couldn't shake the feeling that he was analyzing her every word. When they finally left, she let out a sigh she hadn't even realized she was holding.

On the car ride back to her place, Jack was unusually quiet, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. Remi glanced at him, the city lights casting soft shadows across his face.

"You okay?" she asked., s

He nodded. "Yeah. Just... I'm glad you properly met Luke."

"Why?" she asked, her voice light, though the question felt heavier than she intended.

Jack's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Because I really like you. And if this... if we're gonna be something, I want the people I care about to know you."

Guilt prickled at the edges of her thoughts. She forced a smile, reaching over to rest her hand on his thigh. "You're sweet, Hughes. You know that?"

He laughed softly, his shoulders relaxing as he placed a hand over hers. "Don't let it get around. Gotta protect my image."

Her smile didn't waver, but her stomach churned. She wasn't sure if it was guilt, the thrill of rebellion, or something else entirely. All she knew was that Jack Hughes was nothing like she'd expected--and that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

~~

Jack sat in his stall, sipping water as he wiped the sweat from his face with a towel. Across the room, Nico and Luke were talking about dinner plans, their voices blending into background noise.

The sound of Phil's sharp whistle cut through the chatter, snapping everyone to attention. Jack tensed, his eyes flickering to the entry where Phil stood, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

"Alright, listen up," Phil began, his voice carrying the kind of authority that demanded silence. "I've been watching you guys these past few weeks, and while I'm mostly happy with what I've seen on the ice, I need to remind you all of something."

The room was silent, every pair of eyes fixed on the coach. Jack shifted uncomfortably, a prickle of unease crawling up his spine.

"This team has one goal: to win," Phil continued, pacing slowly in front of the group. "And that means focus. Discipline. No distractions--on the ice or off."

Jack's stomach twisted. Phil's tone was calm, measured, but the words hit like a warning shot. He couldn't help but glance toward Nico, who raised an eyebrow in silent confusion.

"I've been in this game a long time," Phil said, stopping to look directly at the group. "I know what happens when players lose sight of what's important. You think one bad decision won't cost you? Think again. Whether it's partying too much, chasing the wrong kind of attention, or getting involved with the wrong people--it will catch up with you."

Jack swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep a neutral expression. He told himself that Phil didn't know anything, that the speech was just a coincidence. But the way his coach's eyes swept over the room, lingering on him longer than anyone else, made his chest tight.

"That's all," Phil said finally. "Think about what kind of player you want to be--and act like it. See you tomorrow."

The room remained silent as Phil walked out, the door swinging shut behind him. It wasn't until he was gone that the players began to murmur, exchanging confused glances.

"What the hell was that about?" Dawson muttered, leaning toward Jack.

"No idea," he replied quickly. He stood up, grabbing his bag. "I'll catch you later."

As he left the locker room, Jack couldn't shake the feeling that Phil's warning had been aimed directly at him.

~~

Remi stood in front of the bathroom mirror, carefully brushing her hair into place when she heard her dad's voice call her name from the hallway. She sighed, setting the brush down as she turned to face the door.

"Yeah?" she called back, already bracing herself for whatever lecture was coming.

Phil appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression as story as she'd expected. His eyes flickered briefly to her neck, where the faint shadow of a hickey still lingered despite her best efforts to cover it with makeup.

"Who's the guy?" he asked bluntly, his tone clipped.

Remi's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face neutral, crossing her arms to mirrow his stance. "What guy?"

"Don't play games with me, Remi," Phil snapped, stepping further into the room. "I'm not blind. You've been sneaking around, coming home late, and you've got another..." He gestured vaguely toward her neck. "You think I don't know what's going on?"

Remi arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a defiant smirk. "Maybe you don't."

Phil's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I don't have time for this, Remi. You're my daughter, and I'm trying to protect you."

"From what?" she shot back. "Living my life? Making my own decisions? God forbid I do anything you don't approve of."

"This isn't about approval!" he barked. "It's about respect--for yourself and for this family. You're running around with some guy who clearly doesn't care about you--"

"How would you know?" Remi interuppted, stepping closer. Her eyes flashed with anger. "You don't even know who he is."

Phil's face darkened. "And I don't want to know! Whoever he is, he's not worth it. Guys like that only think about themselves."

Remi laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. "Wow, Dad. You're so sure you're right about everything, aren't you? Maybe the problem isn't who I'm seeing. Maybe the problem is you."

Phil stared at her, stunned into silence. For a moment, the only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

"You don't get it, do you?" he said finally, his voice lower but no less tense. "This isn't just about you. The choices you make reflect on me--and on this team. I won't let you ruin what we've worked for."

Remi's anger gave away to something colder. "You mean what you've worked for. God forbid I do anything for myself."

Without waiting for a reply, she pushed past him, her steps echoing down the hall as she headed for her room. She slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against it as her heart pounded in her chest.

Her dad didn't know. He couldn't know. But the weight of his words still lingered, settling like a stone in her stomach.

~~

The room was quiet, Jack lay sprawled across the bed, his body still covered in a sheen of sweat. The sheets were a tangled mess beneath him, and the scent of sex and Remi's perfume lingered in the air.

Remi had slipped into the bathroom a few minutes ago, the sound of running water muffled by the door. Jack stared at the ceiling, a smile tugging at his lips as he replayed the way she looked down at him--wild and unguarded, like he was the only person in the world that mattered.

His reverie was interrupted by the sharp buzz of her phone on the nighstand. It vibrated again, and again, lighting up the screen with notifications.

Jack hesitated, glancing toward the bathroom door. Don't man. Just leave it.

But the buzzing didn't stop, and before he could talk himself out of it, he reached over, turning the phone toward him. The messages were from a group labeled "Bad Bitches Only," the preview showing snippets of texts that made his brow furrow.

Talia: did you see him tonight?

Carmen: yeah, she's got him wrapped around her finger

Talia: rem is a mastermind. her dad's gonna lose it when he finds out

The words hit Jack like a slap to the face. He knew he shouldn't--but his curiosity was like an itch he couldn't ignore.

His thumb hovered over the screen, and then he guessed. Her passcode was simple--her birthday. His pulse quickened when the phone unlocked, revealing the full thread.

Talia: how's it feel to be breaking all daddy's rules?

Remi: better than i thought. he has noooo idea

Carmen: does jack know you're just using him or does he actually think you're like into him?

Remi: oh, he thinks it's real. poor guy's falling HARD

Talia: and when phil finds out?

Remi: that's the best part. let him stew

His chest felt like it had caved in, the air sucked from the room. The words blurred, but their meaning was crystal clear.

The bathroom door opened, and Remi walked out, wrapped in a towel, her damp hair framing her face. She stopped short when she saw him sitting up on the bed, her phone clutched in his hand.

"What are you doing with my phone?" she asked, her tone sharp, but there was a flicker of something else--panic--in her eyes.

Jack stood, his grip on the device tightening as he turned to face her. "What the hell is this, Remi?" His voice was low, dangerously quiet.

"What are you talking about?"

"This," he snapped, holding up the phone. "This whole... game you're playing. Using me to get back at your dad? To prove some point? Is that what all this was?"

Her eyes widened, and she stepped forward, hands raised. "Jack, it's not like that--"

"Don't," he interrupted, his voice cracking. "Don't even try to lie. I read the messages."

Remi's mouth opened, then closed like a fish, her face pale. "You shouldn't have done that," her voice trembled.

Jack let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. "That's what you're worried about? That I invaded your privacy? Jesus Christ, Remi. I thought you actually cared about me."

"I do!" she blurted out. "Jack, I--"

"Don't," he cut her off again, backing away. "You don't get to say that. Not after this."

She reached for him, but he jerked his arm away. "Jack, please. Just let me explain."

"Explain what?" he snapped, his eyes blazing. "How you pretended to give a shit about me? How every kiss, every touch, was part of some sick plan to piss off your dad? Do you even know what you've done? How I--" His voice broke, and he turned away, running a hand through his hair.

"Jack," she whispered, her voice thick with desperation. "I never meant to hurt you."

"Bullshit," he spat, spinning to face her. "That's all this was. Hurting me, hurting him. None of it was real, was it?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. The truth was written all over her face.

Jack exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging. He tossed the phone onto the bed and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on with shaking hands. "You know what? You're just like him."

Her breath hitched. "What?"

"You manipulate people to get what you want," he said, his voice hollow. "You don't care about anyone but yourself."

Remi flinched like he'd slapped her, her eyes glassy. "That's not fair."

Jack's jaw clenched, but he didn't reply. He grabbed his keys and headed for the door, his steps heavy with anger and heartbreak.

"Jack, wait!" she called, her voice breaking. "Please, just--"

The door slammed behind him, cutting her off. The sound echoed through the silence, leaving Remi standing in the middle of her room, her chest heaving as tears spilled down her cheeks.

For the first time, the weight of what she'd done hit her with full force. She sank onto the bed, staring at her phone like it was a bomb that had just gone off.

~~

The silence in the room was deafening. Remi sat on the edge of her bed, her legs curled up to her chest as she stared at her phone lying on the crumpled sheets. The screen was dark, but the words Jack had read were burned into her mind. Her chest felt hollow, her breath shallow as her thoughts raced, tears spilling from her eyes.

I thought you actually cared about me.

His voice haunted her, raw and broken, the weight of his anger hitting her like a punch to the gut. She wrapped her arms around herself, the sting of his words cutting deeper and deeper. For someone who'd always prided herself on control, on being untouchable, she felt exposed--like every carefully constructed wall she'd built had come crashing down in an instant.

Her phone buzzed on the bed beside her, and she grabbed it, hoping--praying--it was Jack. But it was just a text from Talia.

Talia: what happened? you okay??

Remi's fingers hovered over the keyboard, but she couldn't bring herself to reply. Instead, she set the phone down again, her gaze drifting to the messy sheets, the imprint of where Jack had been laying not even half an hour before. She reached out, her fingers brushing the fabric, and a fresh wave of regret crashed over her.

None of it was real, was it?

The question hung in her mind, heavy and suffocating. And for the first time, she realized the answer wasn't as simple as she'd thought. At first, she'd convinced herself it was all part of the plan--a way to rebel, to defy her dad in the most calculated way possible. But somewhere along the line, something had shifted.

Her favourite moments with Jack began playing in her mind, uninvited.

They'd sprawled on the floor of his apartment, the faint haze of smoke curling in the air between them. Jack had been tracing patterns on the rug with his finger, his voice soft as he opened up about his fears--about letting people down, about never living up to expectations.

"You know," he'd said, glancing at her with a shy smile, "I don't think I've ever been this honest with anyone before."

Her chest had tightened at the vulnerability in his voice. "Maybe that's because you don't let people in."

He'd laughed, shaking his head. "And yet, here I am. Letting you in."

At the time, she'd brushed it off, teasing him about being sappy. But now the memory hit her differently, the weight of his trust making her throat feel raw.

Jack had taken her to a quiet overlook just outside the city, the twinkling lights stretching out before them like a sea of stars. He'd sat beside her on the hood of his car, their shoulders touching as they took in the scene in front of them.

"This is where I go when I need to clear my head," he'd said, his voice low. "Figured you might like it."

She'd turned to look at him, surprised by his soft expression. "Why'd you bring me here?"

He'd shrugged, but his eyes had been earnest. "Because you're different. You get me."

Then, she'd smiled, but now the memory felt bittersweet. You're different. His words had meant something then--something she'd ignored.

She'd always loved the way he looked at her, like she was the only person in the room. Whether they were stealing kisses in a quiet corner, or sharing laughs over takeout, his gaze had been steady, warm, and full of something she hadn't wanted to name.

But now, as she replayed those moments, she realized what it was. He'd looked at her like he loved her.

And the truth hit her like a freight train: She'd fallen for him, too.

She sucked in a shaky breath, pressing her palms to her eyes as tears spilled over. How had she let it get this far? How had she been so blind? The very thing she'd been trying to avoid--caring too much, being vulnerable--had happened anyway. And now she'd lost him.

The regret sat on her chest, suffocating her. She grabbed her phone, unlocking it with trembling hands, and opened her messages.

jack, i'm so sorry. please, let me explain

She stared at the screen, the cursor blinking accusingly. She hit send, her heart pounding, and followed it with another.

i never meant to hurt you. you mean more to me than you know

The texts went unanswered. She tried again, dialing his number. It rang once, twice, three times before going to voicemail.

"Jack," she said, her voice cracking as she struggled to hold back tears. "Please. Just... call me back. I know I screwed up, but I need you to know that I--" She stopped, biting her lip to keep from sobbing. "I care about you. I care about you so much, and I-- I'm sorry. I'll explain everything. Just... please."

She ended the call, staring at the screen like it might magically light up with a reply. But nothing came.

The days passed into agonizing silence. Jack didn't respond to her texts or her voicemails, and each unanswered message felt like another nail in the coffin.

She barely slept, barely ate, her mind consumed with guilt and the aching emptiness he'd left behind. Her friends' attempts to cheer her up fell flat, and even her usual rebellious streak lost its spark.

She felt truly alone.

~~

Jack didn't feel like himself. Not on the ice, not in the locker room, not even at home.

The hurt and anger churned inside him like a storm he couldn't shake. He'd barely slept since the night at Remi's, and when he did, he woke up angry all over again. Her words, her actions, her texts--they played on a loop in his mind, taunting him.

You don't care about anyone but yourself.

His own voice echoed in his head, laced with the same bitterness that had been clawing at him ever since he stormed out of her room. He hated that he'd said it. But more than that, he hated that she'd made him feel that way.

The buzzer sounded, snapping him back to the present. He was at practice, the familiar hum of the arena doing little to calm the chaos in his mind. Jack skated hard, pushing himself past the point of exhaustion, but the frustration remained, clawing at him like a weight he couldn't shake.

During a drill, he lost the puck to Nico, who darted past him with ease. Normally, Jack would've shrugged it off, but today it felt like salt in the wound. He slammed his stick against the boards, muttering a curse loud enough for Nico to glance back in confusion.

"You good, man?" Nico skated closer.

Jack waved him off, not trusting himself to answer. The rest of practice passed in a blur of misplaced passes and uncharacteristic mistakes. He felt every set of eyes on him, but he didn't care.

~~

By the time the puck dropped for their next game, Jack's head was still far from clear. His anger simmered just beneath the surface, ready to boil over.

He started the game strong, channeling his frustration into speed and aggression. But as the minutes ticked by, his emotions got the better of him.

A harmless shove from an opposing player turned into a cross-check, earning him two minutes in the box.

When he returned to the ice, it happened again--a poorly timed hit that left his teammates scrambling to recover. This time, the refs weren't as forgiving.

"Two for boarding!" the ref barked, gesturing him off the ice.

Jack skated to the penalty box, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Luke caught his eye from the bench, his expression confused and concerned.

The final straw came in the third period. An opponent chirped him during a faceoff, something innocuous, but it set Jack off. Before he knew it, he was swinging, his gloves hitting the ice as he grabbed the guy by his jersey.

The refs blew the whistle, chaos breaking out around them. Jack barely felt the punches before they were pulling him away, ejecting him from the game.

~~

He sat alone in the locker room, his head in his hands. His knuckles throbbed, his chest heaving as he replayed the fight in his mind.

The door swung open, and Luke stepped in, his skates still on, his eyebrows furrowed.

"What the hell was that, Jack?" Luke demanded, dropping onto the bench across from him.

"Not now, Luke," Jack muttered, not looking up.

"No, now," Luke snapped, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. "What's going on with you? You're acting like a complete idiot out there. First penalities, now getting tossed from a game? You're better than this."

Jack's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

"Talk to me, Jack. Is it about Remi?"

The mention of her name felt like another insult to injury. Jack's head snapped up, his eyes blazing. "Stay out of it, Luke."

"Jack--"

"I said stay out of it!" Jack barked, slamming his fist against the bench. The sound echoed through the room, but Luke didn't flinch.

"I'll take that as a yes," Luke said quietly. "What happened?"

Jack stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal. "Nothing. Just drop it."

"You're full of shit," Luke shot back, standing now too. "You haven't been yourself for like a week now. You're angry all the time, you're screwing up on the ice, and you can't even look me in the eye."

"Luke--"

"And you know what else?" the youngest Hughes interrupted. "I haven't seen her around the rink lately. She used to be here all the time, hanging out, waiting for you. But now? Nothing. So either you tell me what's going on, or I'm going to have to go Phil and tell him about whatever the hell's been going on between you two."

Jack froze. "You wouldn't."

"Try," Luke said, crossing his arms. "I'm not gonna let you self-destruct over some girl. So tell me the truth."

Jack exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. For a moment, he said nothing, letting the weight of Luke's words settle over him. Finally, he sank back onto the bench, his head in his hands.

"She was using me," he said quietly, his voice strained. "It was all some stupid plan to piss off Phil. I was just a pawn."

"Jack..."

"I thought she cared about me," Jack continued, his voice breaking. "But it was all fake. Every kiss, every--" He stopped, shaking his head. "God, I'm so fucking stupid."

"You're not stupid," Luke said firmly, getting up to sit beside him. "You just... cared about the wrong person."

Jack laughed bitterly. "Yeah. Well, it doesn't matter now."

Luke placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You don't have to deal with this alone, you know. Whatever happens, I've got your back."

Jack nodded, though the ache in his chest remained.

~~

Every word that Remi texted Jack felt inadequate, like she was trying to patch up a sinking ship with duct tape. She knew she'd screwed up--more than screwed up. She'd hurt someone who didn't deserve it, someone who'd been nothing but good to her.

Her dad was downstairs on the phone, talking loudly about hockey. Probably complaining about something that had happened at the game that night. She hated hearing him talk about hockey even more now--it just made her think of Jack.

She opened her phone, scrolling through Instagram for any content that could help distract her. But it was useless, the Devils account was the first one that came up. It was a picture of the guys hugging after the win. She clicked on the comments and her heart stopped.

Jack had been ejected from the game. She had to find the clip. She turned to Twitter, scrolling until she found it. She watched as he started a pointless fight, throwing his gloves to the ice. The refs blew the whistle and a beyond pissed Jack was escorted off the ice.

"Damn it, Jack," she whispered, wiping the single tear that had fallen onto her phone screen.

~~

"Remi, you have to stop," Talia said through the phone, sitting criss-cross on her bed.

"I can't," Remi replied, pacing her room. "I can't just leave it like this. He--he means too much to me."

"Does he, though?" Talia raised a brow. "Because last time I checked, this was all about pissing your dad off."

Remi stopped, turning to glare at her friend through the screen. "That's how it started. It's not what it is now."

"Really?" Talia challenged, crossing her arms. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're just upset because you got caught."

"That's not true," Remi snapped, her voice rising. "You don't understand. He's--" She stopped, pulling at the roots of her hair. "I care about him, Talia. I--"

"You what?" Talia interrupted, her eyes wide.

Remi hesitated. The words felt too big, too raw, but they were there, clawing their way out.

"I love him," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Talia just blinked, her mouth falling open.

"I didn't mean to," Remi continued, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "But I do. And now he hates me, and it's all my fault."

"Ugh, girl. I wish I could give you the biggest hug... but you really screwed this up, huh?"

"Yeah. Big time."

~~

She stood outside the apartment door, her hands trembling as she knocked. She'd rehearsed what she was going to say with Talia at least a dozen times, but now, standing there, her chest felt tight and her mind went blank.

It had been two weeks since she'd seen Jack, and the silence had been unbearable. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to talk to him, even if it meant facing his anger head-on.

The door opened after a few moments, and Luke appeared, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to immediate hostility when he saw her.

"Hell no," Luke said, his tone flat and unwavering. "He doesn't want to see you."

"Luke, please," Remi begged. "I just need five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

"No," Luke said firmly, stepping back like he intended to close the door in her face. "You've done enough. Go home, Remi."

"What's going on?" Jack's voice came from inside the apartment, faint but growing louder as he approached.

"It's nobody," Luke called back, throwing a glare in the girl's direction. "They've got the wrong place."

Remi's heart sank, but before she could say anything, Jack appeared behind his brother, his brow furrowing as he looked past Luke.

The moment their eyes met, Jack's face hardened, his jaw clenching. "You've got be fucking kidding me," he muttered, stepping past Luke to block the doorway.

"Jack," Remi said, her voice trembling. "Please. Just let me explain. I need to talk to you."

"There's nothing to talk about," Jack replied coldly, crossing his arms. "You made it pretty clear how you feel."

"Jack, come on," Luke interjected, his tone softer but still protective. "You don't have to do this."

Jack held up a hand to silence his brother, his eyes never leaving Remi's. "What could you possibly have to say that I'd want to hear?"

She swallowed hard, shrinking under the weight of his anger. "I know I hurt you," she said quietly. "I know I screwed up. But I need you to hear me out. Please."

Jack stared at her for what felt like hours, his expression unreadable. Finally, he stepped back, his voice sharp as he turned to Luke. "It's fine. I've got this."

Luke hesitated, his face screwing up as he looked between the two of them. "I'll be in my room," he said finally, walking off but not before shooting Remi one more death stare.

Jack stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound impossibly loud in the heavy silence that followed.

He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a posture that screamed frustration. "You've got five minutes," he said curtly.

Remi took a deep breath, searching her head to find the right words. "I don't even know where to start," she admitted, her voice shaking.

Jack let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. "That's a great sign."

"Jack, please," she said. "I know I don't deserve it, but you have to know that I never meant for things to end up like this."

He raised an eyebrow, his anger simmering just below the surface. "Oh, so you accidentally used me to piss off your dad? Is that what you're saying?"

Remi winced. "That's how it started. But it's not what it became. I swear to you, Jack, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Didn't mean to?" he repeated. "Do you even hear yourself? You played me, Remi. You lied to me, over and over again. And for what? To prove a point?"

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "You're right. I lied. I was selfish. I was awful. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about my dad and started being about you."

Jack scoffed, turning away from her. "Yeah? And when exactly did that happen? Before or after you told your friends I was just a pawn?"

"I don't know!" she cried. "I don't know when it happened. But it did, Jack. I care about you. I--" She stopped, her throat closing up. "I love you."

Jack froze, his back still turned to her. The silence that followed was deafening, and Remi's chest heaved as she took deep breaths to calm herself.

"You don't get to say that," Jack said finally, his voice low and filled with pain. He turned to face her, his eyes now also glossy. "You don't get to use me, break me, then tell me you love me like it makes it all okay."

Remi took a shaky step forward, her hands clasped like she was begging. "I know it doesn't fix anything," she said. "But it's the truth. I love you, Jack. And I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."

He stared at her, his jaw ticking as he tried to process her words. Finally, he let out a long sigh.

"I can't do this right now."

Remi's heart sank, but she nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Jack turned away again, walking toward the hallway without another word. She stod there for a moment, her chest heaving with sobs, before letting herself out.

She'd said what she needed to say, but the bottomless pit in her stomach told her that it wasn't enough.

~~

Remi felt like she was at a school dance with the glittering lights, clinking glasses, and people huddled in groups. Players mingled with donors and fans, their tuxedos adding to the air of sosphistication surrounding the event. Remi stood near the edge of the room, her strapless black dress hugging her figure perfectly. She'd only come because her dad had insisted--demanded, really--after their most recent fight.

"Try not to embarrass me for once," he said, his words like a harsh slap.

So, there she was, a forced smile on her face, a flute of champagne in her hand. She didn't bother hiding her trips to the bar. No one noticed, and even if they did, they wouldn't dare say anything to Phil Bouchard's daughter.

The alcohol warmed her from the inside out, dulling the sharpness of her dad's disapproval. But even with the champagne flowing, she couldn't stop her gaze from darting across the room, searching for him.

She spotted Jack near the far corner, his dark suit fitting him perfectly, his tie slightly loosened as he laughed at something Nico said. Her chest tightened at the sight of him, her fingers gripping the stem of her glass.

She should leave him alone. But the pull was magnetic.

Jack noticed her before she reached him, his smile fading as their eyes met. His posture stiffened, but he didn't move, watching as she approached.

"Hey," she said softly, stopping a few feet away.

"Hey," he replied, his voice guarded.

"What are you drinking?" she gestured to his glass.

"Does it matter?" He looked down at the whiskey in his hand.

Remi winced at the edge in his tone but pressed on. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Yeah, well," he said, looking at her champagne flute, "I work for the team. I didn't know you'd be here."

She swallowed hard, her confidence faltering under his cool demeanor. But then she noticed the slight flush on his cheeks, the faint glassiness in his eyes. He wasn't completely sober either.

"I miss you," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Jack's grip on his glass visibly tightened. "Don't."

"I mean it," she insisted. "Jack, I--"

"I'm serious, Remi," he interrupted. "You don't get to prance over here, say you miss me, and expect everything to be okay."

Her chest ached, but the alcohol flowing through her veins made her bold. "I don't expect everything to be okay," she said. "I just--I needed to see you."

Jack sighed. "You think a few words are gonna fix what you did? We've already had this conversation. You think I'm just gonna forget--"

"I love you."

He stared at her, his lips pursed, letting her words hang in the air.

"Say something," she whispered.

Jack shook his head. "You're impossible."

And then he looked around to make sure nobody was watching... and he kissed her.

Their kiss was fiery, weeks of unresolved tension compressed into a single moment. Jack's hands gripped her waist, pulling her tight against him as she squeezed his forearms.

"Come with me," he mumbled against her lips, his voice rough.

The stumbled down a hallway, their steps hurried and uneven. Jack pushed open the door to the bathroom, pulling her inside before locking it behind them.

"Jack," she breathed, her back hitting the counter as his lips found her neck.

"Shut up," he muttered, hands roaming her body as he tried to make up for lost time.

Her dress slipped down her body, his pants hitting the floor as their kisses grew more frantic. All the hurt, all the anger, dissolved into urgency, their bodies together as if they'd been starved of each other.

~~

Remi woke up in her room, her head pounding from the champagne. She sat up, memories of the night flooding back in vivid detail. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of her bathroom rendezvous with Jack. She reached for her phone, and there was already a text waiting for her.

Jack: We need to talk. Call me when you're up

He'd never been one for small talk, and the tone of his text felt heavy, deliberate.

Her fingers hovered over the call button. He answered after two rings.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"About last night--"

"We need to have a serious conversation," he cut her off.

"Oh, um, okay."

"Is your dad home this afternoon? I'll come by later." Before she could even respond, the line went dead.

Whatever Jack had to say, she knew it wasn't going to be easy.

~~

Remi sat on the couch, staring at the clock on the wall. Jack had said he'd come by, and now every passing second felt like an eternity. Her mind raced with what he might say. As soon as there was a knock at the door, she bolted up, straightening her shirt as she walked to the door.

Jack was standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his sweats, his expression serious. He walked past her into the living room, standing near the coffee table, his posture tense.

"About last night... I'm sorry if--"

"Don't," Jack held up his hand. "Don't start with sorry. I've heard that before."

Remi flinched, but she nodded. "Okay. Then... what do you want to say?"

"Last night... it happened so fast. And I don't regret it. But we can't just go back to how things were."

"I don't want that either. I want to fix this. Fix us."

Jack's eyes flashed with hope, but he kept his tone firm. "If we're going to do this, things have to change, Remi. You have to change."

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do. This isn't just about what happened. It's about everything. The games, the rebellion, the lying. You can't keep doing things just to piss off your dad or to prove a point."

Remi opened her mouth to respond, but he kept going. "Do you even know what that did to me? Knowing I was just some pawn in whatever battle you're fighting with him?"

"That's not what you are to me. Not anymore."

"Then prove it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean show me that you're serious. Show me that this isn't another game for you. Because I can't go through this again, Remi. I can't keep wondering if I'm enough or if you're just going to throw me under the bus when it's convenient."

Her chest ached at the pain in his voice, the vulnerability he was letting her see. "I'll do whatever it takes, Jack. I swear."

"Then start with being honest. Not just with me, but with your dad. Stop sneaking around, stop playing these games. If you want this to work, it has to be real--all of it."

The idea of facing her dad, of owning up to everything, sent a jolt of fear through her. But as she stared at the man she loved, the weight of his words sank in. If she didn't do this--if she didn't prove she was serious--she'd lose him for good.

"Okay... I'll tell him."

"And no more lies," he added. "No more excuses. If I'm in this, I need to know that you are too."

"I am. Jack, I am."

"Then we'll see."

Remi nodded, tears streaking her cheeks. "I'll prove it to you. I promise."

For the first time since he'd walked in, Jack smiled. "You better."

As he turned to leave, he paused at the door, glancing back at her. "One step at a time, Remi. We'll figure it out."

~~

Phil sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in hand as he scrolled through his tablet, his posture rigid as ever. Remi stood in the doorway, her palms clammy as she steeled herself. Her nerves felt like they were on fire, her hands shaking.

"Dad."

"Hm?"

"Dad."

"What is it, Remi?"

She took a deep breath, gripping the back of a chair for support. "I need to tell you something. And I need you to actually listen to me."

He frowned, setting down his tablet. "Go on."

"I'm seeing someone. And before you say anything, I know you're going to be mad, but--"

"Who?" Phil interrupted.

She hesitated, but there was no point in lying. "Jack."

Phil gripped his mug so tightly that Remi thought it might crack from the pressure. "Jack who?"

"You know who."

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You're joking."

"I'm not!" she stood up straight. "I love him."

"Love him? You've lost your goddamn mind, Remi. Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I haven't done anything wrong," she retorted. "I'm not a kid, Dad. You don't get to control who I have feelings for."

"This isn't about control," he began to pace the kitchen. "This is about respect--something you clearly don't have for me or my job."

"This has nothing to do with your job!" she threw her hands up.

"It has everything to do with my job!" Phil barked, slamming his hand down on the table. "I trusted Jack. I treated him like a professional, and he goes behind my back to... to--"

"To care about your daughter? Yeah, real betrayal there."

Phil pointed a finger at her, his voice deadly calm now. "This ends today. You're done seeing him."

"You can't stop me," she said defiantly, though her voice wavered.

"Watch me. You're banned from games, practices, and anything to do with this team. And Jack--he's going to learn what happens when you cross a line."

Her stomach dropped. "You can't punish him for this," she panicked.

"Like hell I can't! If he wants to act like an amateur, he can work twice as hard to prove he still deserves his spot."

Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "You're being unfair."

"I'm being a father. And you're too young to understand what that means."

"I'm not a child," she whispered.

"Then stop acting like one."

~~

True to his word, Phil enforced his ban swiftly. The next morning, security at the rink had a list with her name on it, and when she tried to text Jack about meeting him after practice, he replied curtly.

Jack: Can't

Remi: why not? :(

Jack: Your dad's got us running drills nonstop. I'm wiped

Remi: i'm sorry, j. this is all my fault

The three little bubbles appeared, then disappeared. No reply came.

Remi felt trapped, helpless. Her dad's wrath was affecting not just, but Jack as well. And that hurt almost as much as not being able to see him.

~~

Jack stood on the ice, his legs burning as Phil barked orders from the bench. It was their third round of line rushes, and he wasn't sure he had it in him to finish.

"Move faster, Hughes!" Phil yelled. "You think you're tired? You think the other team's gonna care? Again!"

Jack bit down hard on his tongue, forcing his body to keep moving. He could feel his teammates' eyes on him, some confused, others sympathetic. But none of them dared to ask what was happening.

"Want to tell me what that was about?" Luke asked, collapsing onto the bench next to his brother.

Jack shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. Why's Phil riding you harder than anyone else? What's going on?"

Jack didn't answer, staring at his shaking hands.

"It's about her, isn't it?"

Jack still didn't speak.

"Jack, I get it. You really like her. She's stunning and super sweet. But this thing with her and Phil? It's a disaster waiting to happen."

"You think I don't know that?" Jack snapped, finally looking up at him. "You think I'm not already dealing with it?"

Luke held up his hands in surrender. "Alright. Just... don't let him break you over her, okay?"

Silence.

~~

Phil had always been a disciplinarian, but lately, his need to control his daughter felt suffocating. She felt it in the way he scrutinized her every move, every conversation.

The final straw came one evening when he caught her lingering outside the rink after practice, talking to Luke.

"Hand it over," he demanded when they arrived home, his hand outstretched.

Remi frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Your phone. I'm not an idiot, Remi. You think I don't know you're still talking to him? You're done. Give it to me."

"Dad, this is ridiculous--"

"Now!"

Reluctantly, she handed him her phone, her stomach sinking as he walked away with it.

~~

Deprived of her usual means of communication, Remi turned to one of the few people who could help her: Luke.

It started with a simple note slipped into his car window, written hastily on a scrap of notebook paper.

Luke,

Please get this to Jack. I need him to know I'm not ghosting him.

Luke, initially hesitant, agreed after some convincing from Jack, who pleaded with his younger brother to help them stay in touch.

From then on, he became their unofficial carrier pigeon.

He delivered folded notes in his hockey bag. He passed them off casually after practice, muttering "You dropped this" to avoid suspicion. Once, he even hid a letter in a water bottle, smuggling it onto the bench during a game.

The notes became their lifeline, filled with promises, apologies, and small updates:

Remi, I miss you. Today was brutal. Your dad's riding me harder than ever, but thinking about your little notes makes it bearable.

Jack, I miss you too. I wish I could be there to make things easier. This is such bullshit.

~~

One evening, Phil barged into Remi's room unannounced, his expression stormy. "Why've you been talking to Luke?"

She barely had time to react before he noticed the small stack of papers peeking out from beneath her pillow.

"What's this?" he snatched them before she could stop him.

"Dad, don't--"

But it was too late. His face turned bright red as he read the letters, steam practically coming from his ears.

"Unbelievable! You've been sneaking around still! And using one of my other players to do it? Do you have any idea how fucking stupid this is?"

"It's not stupid! I care about him."

He held up one of the letters. "You care about him? Enough to sleep with him, apparently."

Her face flushed, her heart pounding.

"You didn't think I'd find out? I continue to give Jack a shot because I thought he had potential. That he's professional. Turns out, he's just as reckless as you are!"

~~

The next practice was brutal. Jack knew something was wrong the moment he stepped onto the ice. Phil barely looked at him, but his commands were clipped, his critiques harsher than ever.

When the starting lineup was announced, Jack's name was glaringly absent.

"Coach," he said after practice, jogging to catch up with Phil in the hallway. "What's going on? Why am I not playing?"

Phil turned to him, his expression cold. "Disciplinary reasons," he said like it was the simplest thing ever.

"I... I haven't done anything wrong."

"Oh, haven't you? I trusted you, Jack. You're an alternate captain. I'm here to help you, and this is how you repay me? By crosing every line I've set?"

"With all due respect, sir, my personal life doesn't affect my performance on the ice."

"It does when it distracts you and causes chaos within the team. You're lucky I haven't gone to the GM."

~~

That night, Remi was lying in her bed, when a faint tapping sound drew her attention. She frowned, pulling off her warm covers and walking to the window.

Jack was standing in the backyard, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Remi!" he hissed.

Her heart leapt to her throat, and she quickly opened the window. "What are you doing here?"

"Let me in," he said, gesturing toward the tree by her window.

She hesitated for a second before nodding. Jack climbed up with surprising ease, swinging himself onto the ledge before stepping into her room.

He was breathless, his hair a mess. "Your dad's lost his fucking mind. He's cutting my ice time, and he's blaming me for everything."

"Jack, I'm so sorry--"

"I don't care about me," his eyes searched hers. "I care about us. I don't know how much longer I can do this, Rem. He's making my life a living hell."

"We'll figure it out. I promise."

"Remi! Is there someone in there?"

She froze, the voice coming from the other side of her bedroom door, heavy with suspicion.

"Remi?" he asked again. "What's going on in there?"

"Under the bed," she whispered urgently, shoving him toward the narrow space.

"Seriously?" he hissed, his voice incredulous.

"Do you have a better idea?" she asked, already grabbing the edge of the duvet to shield the gap.

Jack didn't argue any further, dropping to his knees and sliding under the bed just as her doorknob jiggled.

The door creaked open, and her dad did a quick sweep of the room. "What's going on in here? Is everything okay?"

"Nothing," her voice was too quick, too high-pitched. "Why are you even in here?"

"I... I thought I heard voices."

"From the TV," she nodded to her laptop on her bed, where Netflix played quietly. She gestured toward it dramatically. "See? I couldn't sleep, so I turned something on."

Phil pulled her into a hug, smoothing down her messy bed hair. "You've been sneaking around, Remi. If you're hiding something--"

She pulled away. "I'm not. I'm trying to relax. You can't just barge in every time you get paranoid."

"Keep it down," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "And don't test me, kid. You're already on thin, thin ice."

The moment his footsteps retreated back down the hallway, she bent down to lift the duvet.

"Jack," she whispered. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, sliding out from under the bed. His face was flushed and his hair even messier than before. "That was fun."

She giggled. "Sorry, babe."

"You're good under pressure, I'll give you that."

"Not bad yourself," she scrunched up her face as he pressed a kiss to her nose.

"So..."

"What do we do next? Run away? Get me a burner phone and live off the grid?"

Jack laughed despite himself. "I don't know. I just... I'm not gonna lose you, Rem."

"You won't. I love you, Jack."

"I love you more."

"We've got this."

"I hope you're right."

~~

Another fight with Phil had left Remi rattled, and she'd stormed out of the house to clear her head. A walk through the neigbourhood usually helped, but the slippery sidewalk--coated with frost--proved to be dangerous when walking as fast as she was.

Her foot slipped from under her as she turned the corner, her arms flailing as she tried to keep her balance. Instead, she went down hard, her ankle twisting painfully beneath her as she hit the pavement.

"Shit," she hissed, clutching her leg. The sharp, stabbing pain told her something was wrong, and she felt like puking at the sight of her already swelling ankle.

She fumbled for her phone, but of course, it wasn't there. Her dad still had it, leaving her with no way to call for help.

The sound of a car engine approaching made her look up, and relief flooded her when she recognized Jack's car pulling to a stop.

"Remi?" his face screwed up as he cut the engine.

"Jack," she gasped, tears falling as he crouched beside her.

"What happened?" he asked, examining her ankle.

"I slipped. I think it's sprained? I'm... I'm not really sure."

Jack didn't hesitate. He slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her effortlessly. "I've got you, baby."

He stayed by her side the entire time, his hand never leaving hers as they waited for a doctor in the ER. He helped fill out paperwork, fetched water when she needed it, and even cracked a few horrible jokes to distract her from the pain.

When the doctor confirmed it was a pretty bad sprain, Jack insisted on picking up her medication and made sure she had crutches before they left. By the time they got back to her house, night had fallen. He helped her inside, careful with every step as he guided her to the couch.

"You don't have to say," she mumbled sleepily, though she didn't mean it.

"I'm not going anywhere," he replied firmly, adjusting the ice pack on her foot.

Their peace was broken by the door slamming shut. Phil's heavy footsteps entered the living room, his face scrunched up as soon as he saw Jack sitting there.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Remi winced, trying to push herself up straighter. "Dad, I--"

"You have some nerve," Phil snapped, his glare fixed on Jack. "I told you to stay away from her."

Jack stood, hands clenched at his sides. "She was hurt. She needed help."

"And that gave you the right to defy me? You've disrespected me and the team time and time again, Hughes."

"Dad, stop! He didn't do anything wrong! I fell, and he was there. If it wasn't for Jack, I'd probably still be sitting on the sidewalk."

Phil's gaze flickered to her, his face softening slightly, before he turned back to Jack. "You're off the team. Effective immediately."

"Dad, no!"

"Wait. You can bench me, cut my ice time, try to kick me off the team... but that's not going to change how I feel about her."

Phil narrowed his eyes, but Jack didn't falter.

"I care about her. More than anything. And I know you hate this, but I'm not going to walk away just because it's inconvenient for you. I love her too much for that."

Phil sighed, running a hand over his face. "You're not going anywhere tonight."

Jack blinked, caught completely off guard. "Sir?"

"She's injured," he said gruffly. "Someone has to keep an eye on her. You're already here--might as well make yourself useful."

"Dad--"

"I'm not saying I approve," he held up a hand. "But... maybe I've been a bit too harsh."

~~

Jack's days became a balancing act. Mornings were for practices, where he pushed himself harder than ever, determined to prove to Phil--and himself--that he could handle the demands of both his hockey career and his personal life. Evenings were for Remi, where he'd show up at the house with groceries, helping her navigate her life on crutches.

Phi, ever watchful, made his presence known whenever Jack was around.

"Door stays open," he'd said the second night Jack came to help. He leaned against the doorframe, looking between the two young adults. "And no funny business."

"Yes sir," Jack replied, biting back a smile as he helped Remi prop up her injured leg on a pillow.

"And I meant it. No going into the bathroom together, no sneaking around, no--"

"Dad, we get it," Remi rolled her eyes. "We're not thirteen."

Phil shot her a look, but didn't say anything more.

Jack leaned in with a grin. "Well, that went better than expected."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Don't get too comfortable. He's probably listening right now."

Jack chuckled but kept his hands firmly on the heating pad he was adjusting on her ankle.

~~

Phil observed them quietly for the next week or so. One evening, he sat in the living room, pretending to read a book while Jack and Remi played cards at the kitchen table. He glanced up occasionally, watching as they laughed and teased each other, the room filled with an ease he hadn't seen in his daughter in... years.

"Jack," she giggled. "You're terrible at this game."

"I'm letting you win because you're injured," Jack shot back with a smirk.

"Oh please," she scoffed, re-shuffling the deck. "You're just bad."

Phil watched as Jack leaned in, whispering something that made Remi burst into laughter, her cheeks glowing.

It hit him then--how much Jack truly scared for her. The way he looked at her, like she was the most important thing in the room. The way he balanced his career and her injury without a single complaint. The way Remi never stopped smiling around him.

He sighed, setting down his book. "Jack," he called, drawing their attention.

"Yes, sir?"

Phil cleared his throat, the words getting stuck halfway. "You... you've been good to her."

Jack's eyes widened, but he nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't make me regret saying that."

His acceptance just grew from there, marked by small moments of trust and understanding. Though he kept his rules in place--like the open door policy and no PDA--he began to soften, joining them for dinner occasionally or offering Jack advice after games.

One day, after a particularly good win, Phil even clapped Jack on the back, a rare gesture of approval. "You played well out there," he said, his tone almost warm.

Jack grinned. "Thanks, Coach."

And while it wasn't a happily-ever-after, it was a start.

[aliendes]

SVT Reaction to you flinching during an argument

warnings: mentions of arguments and flinching during an argument, not descriptive, mentions of past trauma (?) maybe during one part, very tame and kinda fluffy, attempt at humour? man idk... let me know if I missed anything

remember my requests are OPEN for seventeen!

Seungcheol (S.Coups)

The softest man alive, fight me, I will die on this hill. Have you seen the video of Minghao cupping Cheol’s cheek and he instantly crumbles? Yeah, Cheol would immediately see you flinch or even step back away from him and he’d fold. He would never hurt you, you know that, he knows that, everyone who knows you both knows that. He literally worships the ground you walk on. But he can get heated in an argument with loud words and huge hand gestures, which might scare you. He would immediately lose the ability to be angry, or annoyed, or whatever at you and instantly start apologizing, cooing at you, and would spend the night babying you within an inch of your life. “You know I would never, ever do anything to hurt you, right princess?”

Jeonghan

Now this man can be mean, I can feel it in my bones. But he would never, ever, ever, hurt you. He is so gentle and kind, and while he can definitely have some sassy moments and might even say some things that can come off as rude, he would never in a million years raise a hand to you. If you are flinching because of him it’s probably because he’s making large hand gestures trying to get his point across, but as soon as he noticed he’d go all wide-eyed, drop his hands immediately, and completely forget what you were even arguing about. He’d make sure you allowed it before holding you and cuddling you the rest of the night, whispering sweet things into your ear as he rocked you. 

Joshua

Another gentle giant. I can’t see him even getting animated enough to make you flinch, but if you did for whatever reason he is instantly caving and probably trying to make himself seem smaller to calm you down. Whether that means getting on his knees, sitting on the couch, or even laying down to continue the conversation, he’ll do it. But he will want to continue the conversation, though in a less heated way. Would run his hands through your hair, hold your hands and kiss your knuckles, and stare into your eyes as you spoke, telling him how you’re feeling as you both try to resolve whatever the fight was about in the first place. 

Jun

Another one I can’t see actually making someone flinch, he is just too soft for his own good. But if you did flinch away from him during an argument he would be so confused by what just happened, maybe to the point where he’s looking behind him to make sure something else didn’t frighten you. Would end up losing his train of thought and reach out for you to comfort you. “Baby, you know I’d never hurt you!” Would probably pout at you after he made sure you were ok. 

Soonyoung (Hoshi)

Another gentle man with loud words and big gestures. He is part of BSS and all of BSS can get chaotic and hyper. That said, he seems the type to be pretty quiet/docile during an actual argument. The only time I can see him accidentally scaring you is if he gets really heated and shouts/yells. If this ever happened he would see you flinch and immediately cool his anger. It would be like a switch is flipped. Would lower his voice, whispering to you to make sure you’re ok, and if you cried he would probably end up crying with you in hushed tones. 

Wonwoo

He’s tall, and he’s broad, and he understands that he is much larger than you. He usually takes this into account during arguments specifically to avoid this from happening. Will usually sit down when arguing with you for this reason. The moment you flinch or try to move away from him he would probably get very steel-faced, berating himself for not being more mindful. You might take this as him being angry at you, which he would immediately crumble at. He’s not angry anymore, in fact, he just wants to make you feel loved. Will kick himself for the rest of the night and you might end up being the one to comfort him. “I feel like the worst boyfriend on the planet.”

Jihoon (Woozi)

The only member that I cannot see ever making you flinch, in any situation. Mans so calm and collected, if you are arguing with him he's probably sitting there with his arms crossed completely chill. 

Seokmin (DK)

Another member of BSS and loud boy squad. He’s also pretty tall and muscular so if you ever flinched away from him during an argument I can see it resulting in immediate tears on his end. He would feel so incredibly awful for making you think he would ever hurt you that it absolutely breaks his heart. He would try to make himself smaller, tears in his eyes as he apologizes and makes you understand that he was just trying to get his point across. Might even act more subdued in his actions for the next few days until you promise him that you weren’t really scared of him. Sulky baby. 

Mingyu

Another huge baby with a heart of gold. Because of his size alone I can see this happening with him if he is super heated or if the argument isn’t going his way and he’s trying to defend himself. Lot’s of arm movements. The moment you flinch his eyes are watering with unshed tears and he’s holding onto you for dear life. Hugging, kissing, cuddling you, completely forgets what the argument was about. You would end up reassuring him in bed later that you admire his size and strength so he doesn’t feel bad about himself for the next few days. Sulky baby #2.

Minghao (The8)

Can come off as cold and calculated, but I think this man is one of the most loving and romantic in the entire group (fight me on this). He’s also very level headed, but on the off chance that you do end up flinching during an argument, he would be super analytic about it. “Hey, come here. Sit down with me and tell me what’s going through your head.” Would make you sit with him, would rub his knuckles over your arm or shoulders as you spoke with tears in your eyes. Would make you talk it out with him before comforting you if that is what you need. Makes sure that you understand he would never hurt you and only wants to make sure whatever issues you had were resolved before you went to bed. 

Seungkwan

Final member of BSS and definitely a loud, sassy boy. You’ve all seen him argue on national television before, so this is definitely something that could happen in your relationship. However, the moment you are flinching away from him he is pouting at you (you know the face) and looking at you with those pretty wide eyes like he doesn’t understand what just happened (he doesn’t). Wants to immediately figure out why exactly you flinched, will do whatever he can to make you feel loved and appreciated in that moment, but will definitely need reassurance later that you know he would never hurt you. Sulky baby #3. 

Vernon

Might not even realize you flinched at first. Would be too in his head talking through whatever it was that you are arguing about that he doesn’t realize what has happened until you have tears in your eyes. “Baby? Was it something I said?” Poor baby will feel awful when you explain it to him. Maybe you have had bad experiences in your past that make you more scared when in arguments. Would listen and talk through it with you and promise to not make the same mistakes next time you argue, if you do. Would feel so bad after you resolved it until you reassured him that it’s ok. 

Chan (Dino)

Precious baby doesn’t always realize when he’s getting loud or gesturing widely. When you flinched he would stop dead in his tracks, rethinking all his life decisions. You could literally see the calculations taking place behind those pretty boba eyes as he figures out exactly what movement he made to make you flinch. Would promise you and himself he would never do it again and would want to cuddle with you so closely the rest of the evening that he wouldn’t even want to let you go to get ready for bed. Literally clinging to your back like a koala.

[revelboo]

Ignore me-Not Transformers, I just like the angry boi and a friend reminded me of the Transformers/Overwatch crossover and that he was paired with Megs for it. Love his design and the Omnics in general, but so, so incredibly awful at this game. Also, title’s not a Motion City Soundtrack song

Anti-Gravity

Ramattra x Reader

• Heart racing, you run headlong down the street. Hearing the explosions and trying to guess how many streets over they are. You don’t even know where you’re going, just following the people in front of you. When they reach the intersection and start screaming and scattering, you’re shoved down by the panicked people ahead of you. Falling at the feet of an Omnic taller than any you’ve ever seen, seeing its head tip, ribbons on its head sliding against its shoulders. Unable to move as Nullifiers storm the street in a violent tide around him. And his arm lifts, a staff in his hands as you hear the scream of jets overhead.

• They scatter like insects before him and his followers, screaming in fear. Knows they think he’s a monster for what he’s doing, even though they’re the ones that drove him to this. He never wanted any of this, trying again and again for peace only to see his people cut down. Because to them, the Omnics are expendable. Things that can be used and thrown away, not living beings. But not anymore. Never again ignored, because he will be seen and heard.

• That head turns and you catch the faint glow of optics under that mask as the biggest Omnic sees you on the ground, time seeming to slow as his head turns away dismissing you, those ribbon like strands on his head stirring in the breeze as the jets turn. They wouldn’t dare attack, they have to know there’s civilians down here with those monsters. You want to believe that so bad, but when the first missile is launched, you’re frozen but not surprised. Not really. Null Sector makes the news all the time, its leader thwarting attacks repeatedly. Always slipping away before he can be brought down.

• Growling, his arm lifts and a barrier shield flickers to life as the first missile hits. They’re really desperate enough to not care about collateral damage like the human sprawled at his feet or the ones still running just to try and end him. His Nullifiers turning and returning fire as another missile hits a building overlooking the street. Seeing the damage, seeing the building lean over them all. Any cost to stop him, then. Because now they see him. Fear him. Swapping to nemesis form, he bends, dragging the human out of his way and slamming his fists down. Again. Street buckling under the force, aware of the building coming down as he falls and the human screaming as they go with him. Rending pain. And the building crashes down, entombing him in darkness. But they’d seen him.

• Something wet drips in your face, and everything hurts as you come to by degrees. Wherever you are is cold, dark, and wet. Shafts of light spearing down from above, dust dancing in the golden glow. Pain slices through you when you try to move, trying to remember details. The building came down on you, so how had you survived? You remember the tall Omnic getting bigger, looking at you and raising his fists. Falling. You’re below the street? Gingerly sitting up, you try to figure out how badly you’re hurt. And there, a flicker in the dark. That Omnic, the one you’d seen on the news. Ramattra, Null Sector’s leader. He’s right there, unmoving. One of his legs pinned under debris, an arm torn completely off. Much worse off than you are, though shifting sends a jagged lance of pain through your ankle. There’s a broken rebar near you and you reach for it without thinking, the metal bitingly cold against your palm. As cold as the realization that you could end this. Drive this twisted spike of metal through his head and the fear disappears. Optics flickering behind the broken mask, its head turns to stare at you. And snared by those awful optics, you drag yourself to your feet.

[srslylini]

The way season 1 ended she was at a point so low she was ready to blow up a city (and like she did, she blew up the council). The start of season 2 showing her cathartic wasn't actually bad I liked that direction. It felt like they wanted to show her in a "nothing state" which depression also feels like.

they showed her as not caring about anything anymore (literally just walking through every scene in the music video sucker while everything just HAPPENS around her). The meeting with Isha, while still being a little bit odd since it felt like well they randomly put them together but that's something you can overlook, was amazing. She still just didn't care, played with her life.

Her reaction to seeing her sister being an enforcer? Gut punching. Extremely painful. The fight with her STILL being more in a nothing like state, just shooting the dude with her back turned to him felt very s1 which is good because again, Jinx in the end was like??? done.

and then.... act 2 happened. Suddenly they used Jinx's mental state as a Plot device. In season 1 it would ruin missions and her freaking out would happen no matter if "the plot needed it or not" if you get what I mean? The first mission we see on screen? fucked up because Jinx lost control. This happens throughout the first season, it doesn't just come when ever the writers need it to happen.

In season 2 it does. Suddenly in situations that should freak her out she doesn't. Suddenly they use it as a plot device. Why was she very calm and relaxed upon meeting Vander as warwick with Vi? Why did she not freak out when Vi and her fought in the mines?

Do we all remember what happened in season 1 episode 3? And how Jinx immediately lashed out as soon as a fight occured? What happened? Also why was she suddenly so very chill with Enforcers in act 2 and beyond? The joke with the Enforcer and her god damn fucking pants was so out of place I cannot even handle to think about it anymore. The fight with Warwick was good and I liked that in the end they again showed that she is ready to kill herself, at least there is continuity here but that is also never addressed and also... happens for Plot and plot only

it happens so warwick can see the bomb and so they can have him recognize her, like okay arcane writers? And then after that she is simply fine with her second father figure showing up again? You are telling me the girl who had such a mental break down last season over her sister returning would be absolutely fine and 🥺family🥺 upon seeing Vander? Where was the sense? Where was her having to deal with Silco and Vander in her mind? i don't WANT to see her tortured, duh, but they set that up and showed this happening to her in season 1, so this is just, I dont know, a plothole? You are telling me the same girl who blew up the council in s1, and like LOOK AT HER in that scene, is all cuddle cuddle with her past family whose death she always blamed herself for and was scared off?

Then Isha dying, and god do I have my problems with that but that's another thing, and THEN having Jinx never mention her again? Are you KIDDING ME? like it's not even just not mentioning her as much as it is just also Isha not appearing in her nightmares etc. That is NOT how they set Jinx up as a character. While the scene with Jinx in the prison with Silco turning up was chillingly heartbreaking it also didn't make sense if you take into account how they wrote her seeing things this season. In the one scene where she talked to Silco's chair she says he doesn't show up and then when she is in pain over Isha being caught suddenly he stands behind her? I mean maybe I missed something here but I literally sat there like huh.

In season 1 it happened not because it was needed but because it wasn't. As it should be. In this season it only happened when the Plot needed to move and that's just so incredibly weird to me. Especially cause I already saw people misinterpreting the Silco and Jinx prison scene. It was her subconscious telling her to kill herself not Silco trying to be "a positive influence".

And then or course, we have this tragic character Jinx. Who was shown to have a wish of death all throughout season 1 with how careless she was with her life (for example when she threw around the bombs in her hide out) and then throughout season 2 as well. Who saw a breath of life for a bit, taken from her.

To have a character like this ACTUALLY die by killing herself and then to paint it as a GOOD thing? This isn't a tragedy. This is straight up suicide glorification. I did not cry when I watched this scene, I did not feel sadness and grief. I was beyond mad and disgusted and might be for a long time to come.

I need more ppl to talk abt how awfully Jinx was treated this season. I am soooo angry and upset

[heartmaddie]

lifeline ! kageyama tobio incl ; post time-skip , fluff , hurt/comfort , night terrors , fem! reader

kageyama tobio has been afraid of the dark since before he could remember. sleepless nights plagued his youth like a disease as his childish mind could only conjure the most abominable figures within these hours, only living through his dreams

in the night, he clung to her tightly. a thin sheen of sweat adorned his skin as he shifted uncomfortably. unaware to his restful body, her eyes were nothing but open, gentle gaze trained on him as fingers stroked through his hair as she watched over him (i’m here for you).

instinctively, tobio curled into her chest as his unconscious body shivered uncontrollably, his nose was nestled against her clothed chest, he inhaled her scent as a means of comfort.

when his eyes flickered open, he jolted up quickly, he looked to his side to confirm that he wasn't alone. her presence was a balm to his soul, and and immense relief flooded his tense body once his eyes fell on hers.

“what were you dreaming about?” he loved the sound of her scratchy voice, he cuddled against her chest once again, fingers intertwined with the fabric of her shirt.

“same as usual.” he muttered in response while he rubbed his sweaty forehead against the mattress. kageyama's fingers tightened against her torso once again, eyes desperately attempting to remain opened but exhaustion still lingered in his mind.

reluctantly, tobio shut his eyes, now comforted by his constant as he nuzzled against the heart of his comfort. a sense of serenity blessed upon him, his figure meditating against her slow heartbeat as he pulled her impossibly closer.

“hold me.” (i need you more than you could imagine)

with a sleepy giggle, she returned his embrace. one arm draped around his waist and the other once again curling between black tresses (i know).

kageyama tobio still had nightmares, something that afflicted on his life and would most likely never leave him. they were like a remnant of his childhood, something he couldn't run away from. but something was different now - in the wake of the night, he wasn’t alone anymore.

(i wrote this in the car On my way! to the campsite)

please like , reblog or follow if you enjoyed :p © heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work

[silhouetteonpaper]

Thanksgiving

Summary: It was your first Thanksgiving with Natasha. Actually, it was your first Thanksgiving ever. And to make matters worse, you were meeting her parents for the first time. Would this be the best or the worst first Thanksgiving ever? Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Alexei, Melina, and Yelena appearances) WC: 3,019 Warnings/Themes: Fluff, slight angst, mentions of kidnapping and experimenting, drinking alcohol A/N: Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you enjoy this special fic <3

Thanksgiving was right around the corner, or at least thats what Natasha was saying. She was eager to see her family after so long, and share a classic American meal on the lovely holiday. You hadn’t met any of her family, but you’d heard so much about them. Melina, her headstrong mother, Alexei, her stubborn Father, and Yelena, her hilarious sister. The way she talked about them always reflected a little piece of Natasha herself, you were almost shocked to hear they weren’t her biological family.

But that didn’t matter, not to her. They were the only family she knew, and she was looking forward to celebrating yet another holiday season with them. And this time, with you. You wished you had any sort of family; a mother who could've taught you how to sort your laundry, or even an uncle who could tell jokes that would’ve made you laugh. But you knew of none, especially after the tragedy that occurred when you were small.

Entire buildings blown up, your childhood apartment shattered into a million pieces you never realized wouldn’t be reconstructed. Sly faces swooping in to your rescue, their evil plans hidden from an unsuspecting toddler. Their intentions didn’t matter, as there was no one to protect you anymore. Your parents likely passed in the bombing, but all the details were so hazy. Sometimes you wondered if it was all fabricated after spending years in captivity. Maybe you needed a reason to think your parents didn’t give you up, that they didn’t do it by choice.

“Have you ever celebrated Thanksgiving?” Natasha asked from the next room over. Right, thanksgiving was tomorrow. You weren’t back in the destroyed building, or being taken to the next facility for experimentation. You were safe with Natasha.

You hadn’t celebrated Thanksgiving before, and the idea sounded a little too perfect to you. Sitting with those you loved most to relay all that you’re thankful for? That was the kind of stuff you could only dream of. In a perfect life, you’d actually have more to be thankful for. “No.” You responded from your spot on the couch. Natasha had described the food, from homemade stuffing to a perfectly cooked turkey. It sounded delicious, but that wasn’t what you were worried about.

Her family was daunting. Not because they were bad people, but because they were nice. What if they thought you were a bad influence? What if they disagreed with Natasha’s choice to be in a relationship with such a broken soul? You’d only been with her for a year, leaving you to constantly question the foundation of your relationship often.

The Avengers had saved you from the facility after hearing word of all the children captive. But you weren’t a child when they found you, more a brainwashed adult stuck in the system due to being raised there. Advanced in not only combat, but also the interworking of the large corporation, the entire team decided to take you in as their own. Your knowledge of the company helped them take it down once and for all, a huge feat that would prevent more children from being taken from their families.

You were scared at first, in the large compound with all these superheroes. They had so much experience doing good, and you could barely remember the last time you held the door for someone. It took a lot of time to deprogram your mind, all the years of negatives pounded into you like they were the truth. Being told you were worthless, only a weapon to be used on the facility’s whim. That you weren’t allowed to feel, because that would be weak.

Throughout the entire process, Natasha was the one who stayed by your side. She had expressed a time when she went through something similar, which was partially why she felt inclined to help you so much. But after you two got to know each other as people and not as weapons of mass destruction, you saw just how much you had in common. It was only a few months later you two were official, and the entire team was in support of it.

Your progress was coming along nicely, and there was even the chance to join a few missions. Being a superhero was like a dream come true; you were given a second chance after all that happened, your life was truly beginning. But as cities across the world became safer and safer, the Avengers were called upon less and less. The team decided there wasn’t a huge need for a structured, ready-to-pounce battalion. You could all go your separate ways if you so pleased. Natasha felt ready to leave the compound, and you agreed that would be best. The idea of living alone with her was desirable, and after you became comfortable with the life you were living it was finally time to make that change.

But you hadn’t realized just how different a normal life would be. The apartment Natasha purchased was perfect. Two bedrooms—one converted into an office for all of the leftover Avengers gear—the perfect place for you both to start a life. That didn’t just mean living alongside Natasha, it meant picking out couches and bed frames and even kitchen towels. You were starting to question if it was truly the dream life, sitting in front of a computer all day and adding things to your cart.

The online shopping was the easiest bit; being so close to Natasha was the hardest. You couldn’t hide in your own room anymore, not like at the compound. You couldn’t go sit on the roof and watch the stars when you felt the need to run away, because Natasha would easily be able to find you. She had picked up on those certain habits at the compound eventually, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to have the space. In the small apartment, it grew harder to take that distance for yourself when you needed it most.

Natasha was extremely understanding, though, and was more than willing to go out for the evening so you could have some alone time. Eventually, you both got into a rhythm that allowed for the perfect amount of time together and apart.

You quickly learned about holidays, and what ones Natasha celebrated. Easter wasn’t really her thing, but you all were invited to Tony’s easter party where he set up an egg hunt for everyone—including his daughter. Fourth of July was fun; Natasha took you to a park where you sat and watched the fireworks late at night. And now, you were hearing just how great thanksgiving would be.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you.” Natasha walked out into the kitchen, her soft voice bringing you back to the present. It was so easy to get caught up in the past, but she was always there to ground you.

“What gave it away?” You smiled, standing to meet her in the kitchen. She was prepping a raspberry chocolate cake, apparently one she makes every year. You hugged her from behind, wrapping your arms around her waist as she began to stir a few ingredients together. She lightly pressed kiss to your forehead.

“I promise, they will love you. If they don’t want you to move in with them by the end of the night, I’ll be surprised.” Natasha laughed, your worried expression falling. They were kind people, they’ll be understanding of who you are. After all, their own daughter did go through something similar. For now, you just needed to try and relax before the big introduction tomorrow. And luckily, helping Natasha bake would surely make your anxieties lessen.

—————

The car rolled along the rough road, bumping over each rock and dip as Natasha drove further into the secluded neighborhood. Only a few houses were dotted around, leaving the area quiet and peaceful as you watched from the passenger-side window. Maybe you were exuding nervous energy, because Nat’s hand quickly rested on your leg as she slowed in front of the charming house.

“Remember, you are perfect. You don’t need to act a certain way to please them, they’ll love you for you.” She spoke while putting the car in park. You nodded, eyeing the home before you. It wasn’t anything large, but it had an inviting feeling. The paneled exterior was accented with deep woods, and of course lots of plants. You were almost jealous you didn’t live in a house like this.

Natasha grabbed the cake from the backseat as you slowly shut the passenger door. In your reluctant state, you let her lead to the front door of the house. Before she could even knock, the door swung open.

“Natasha!” Melina—you assumed—jumped out onto the front porch with open arms. She wasted no time admiring the cake, asking Nat a million questions before the redhead could even say hello herself.

“And who is this?” Alexei, a gruff man with a large smile asked with his eyes pointed toward you. Swallowing thickly, you introduced yourself and held out a hand to shake. He didn’t accept it, and rather pulled you into the tightest hug you’d ever felt. “So good to have you here. Natasha has told us all about you.” All about you? Did they all know about your troubled past?

There was no time to dwell on the details as Melina practically shoved you inside. “Let me take your jacket, here,” Her hands made quick work of pulling off your coat, nearly distracting you from the blonde bounding down the stairs.

“Sestra!” She exclaimed, her accent making you smile as it matched Melina’s and Alexei’s. Yelena, Natasha’s sister you’d heard so much about. After she hugged her sibling, her eyes turned to you. “I see why Natasha took such a liking to you.”

“Hey!” Nat interjected, hitting Yelena playfully. The two tussled, leaving you to take in the interior of the cozy house. There was a fireplace lit in the living room, worn couches telling stories of the many people who relaxed on their woven threads. A wooden dining table, etched with fork and knife marks from all the times someone slammed their fists down in anger. And the kitchen, where Melina was displaying the chocolate cake on a stand amidst the field of other Thanksgiving dishes.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Here, let me get you a glass. You must be starving—“ You didn’t have any time to answer, as Melina was already pouring you a glass of wine.

“Thanks.” You breathed as she handed it to you.

“Don’t suffocate her.” Natasha smiled, wrapping an arm around you as she watched her mom smother. Although overwhelming, something about it made you smile too.

“Yeah, Natasha already does that enough.” Yelena chimed in, earning yet another punch to the arm from her sister. The playful banter between family members was something you could definitely get used to. Watching as Natasha quipped back and forth with Yelena made you wish you had a sibling of your own, but you knew Nat was more than willing to share.

Melina was flitting about the kitchen, tending to various different dishes before she even realized you were all still standing. You didn’t mind though, as Alexei was already regaling everyone on his last adventure out West. “Oh, everyone, please sit!” She gestured to the set table, complete with flowers freshly picked from the garden.

Natasha sat beside you on one side of the table, Alexei taking the head, and Yelena sitting opposite you. The blonde wasted no time pouring herself a glass of clear liquid. Vodka; although the label was in Russian, it was easy to tell what mysterious liquid sat in side. She downed the glass in seconds, making your eyes widen. Speaking of Russian, you noticed just how much of the house was filled with culture from the other side of the ocean. Books reading in different languages, foods you had yet to try being prepared on the counter, and Natasha’s stories of her home country she used to tell you in passing. The pieces of all these people’s pasts were collected, built into a new form all within the walls of the house.

You wished your apartment was the same; shelves full of tales from your country of origin, recipes passed down from generations you could cook as you pleased—but unfortunately, you had no idea where you came from. “Dinner is served!” Melina called out, lifting a large turkey onto the table.

Everyone dug in as Melina brought more and more food to the table. Eventually, she sat down and joined in the fun, everyone reaching to grab spoonfuls of mouth-watering dishes for their plates. You quickly followed, taking anything that looked enticing… which was pretty much everything.

“So, tell us about yourself. You like to Avenge, eh?” Alexei questioned while bitting into a forkful of food. You chuckled, nodding.

“I do, but the team's on a hiatus for now. Seems the world isn’t in much need of saving these days.” You glanced at Natasha, who smiled. Knowing the world was safe without the Avengers was relieving for the both of you.

Alexei, on the other hand, slapped his fist on the table. “There is always work to be done, ah! No aliens invading town these days?” You weren’t sure if he was asking or just talking to himself, so you shrugged.

“Luckily it’s been pretty calm. We’re always on call if anything happens, though.” You respond. 

Melina was beaming, her eyes glued to you as she took a sip of her wine. “And how did you join the team? Any superpowers we should know about before you blast a hole into these walls?” She laughs. You don’t match her joking tone, instead looking at Natasha once more. She hadn’t told them how you came to be an Avenger. Was that a conversation you should be starting so soon?

You knew this family had been through hell and back, so maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to tell them. Still, you treaded lightly. “Well, the Avengers rescued me from a facility a little while back.” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I was trained in combat there, so they thought I could be an asset to the team.”

Yelena nearly interrupted, her voice flowing with curiosity. “Was it like the Red Room? Wait, Nat, you didn’t tell me she was rescued from a place like the Red Room!” Natasha shot her a glare, leaving Yelena to hold up her hands and hide back behind her meal. You swallowed, taking another breath. A part of you was entertained by Yelena’s curiosity; no one cared that you were a different person before the Avengers, it just seemed they were glad you were here now.

“Uh, kinda of,” You tilted your head. “A similar organization, I guess. Anyways, Natasha helped me get back on my feet, and the rest is history.” You turned to smile at Nat, who of course was already smiling at you.

The rest of the evening went surprisingly well. No one pressed about your past any further, they were mostly interested in your present. Things you liked to do, dates Natasha had taken you on, and any empty space was filled with another one of Alexei’s stories. You learned a lot about Nat and her family, too. How Yelena had a dog back at home, and how Melina had pet pigs. It was an eclectic group of people you were grateful to be beside.

Grateful. Maybe you did have a lot to be grateful for after all. Natasha, her welcoming family, a wonderful life with people you loved. Just over a year ago that all seemed like an unobtainable dream, but today you were living it.

As Melina prepared take-home plates for you and Natasha, you both started to say your goodbyes. “Come by anytime, with or without Natasha.” Alexei hugged you again, nearly squeezing out all the food you just ate.

“You have to come back for Christmas!” Yelena exclaimed, giving you a side-hug. You nodded, looking forward to yet another holiday with the bunch.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? It’s so dark out.” Melina asked for the fifth time as she handed her daughter the plate of leftovers.

Natasha chuckled, hugging her mother. “We’re sure. I’ll see you soon.” And just like that, you two were leaving with plates stacked full of food and hearts full of love. But there was something beneath all the warmth that enveloped you, something tugging at you that was impossible to ignore.

As Nat pulled the car out of the driveway, you couldn’t help but burst into tears. She was taken by surprise, but immediately pulled over onto the dirt. The unknown emotion was bubbling out of you, each sob releasing something you didn’t realize you were holding. Natasha didn’t rush you, she didn’t question it. She just placed her hand on your thigh, moving it up and down until you were ready to talk.

“I want to have a home like that.” You suddenly spoke, damp eyes looking straight into Natasha’s with desire. Not necessarily a desire for her, but for the life you could have with her.

“What, loud and cluttered? Sure, if that’s what you want.” She joked, well aware her parent's house was filled to the brim with random collections and strewn relics.

“No,” You interjected, serious tone unwavering. “I want to fill our home with our lives. Books that explain our past, belongings passed down from family and friends, furniture collected from our travels. Proof that people with a story to tell live within its walls.” Your words leave Natasha speechless, the hand on your thigh suddenly stopping its movement. She never considered that you two didn’t have many belongings to begin with. She never realized that many homes had a meaning behind each decoration, each embellishment. And in that moment, she completely understood your desire.

“Then let’s create that story together.” Natasha’s lips found yours, and suddenly, you weren’t worried anymore.

[jakeswifeyyy]

YOUR GIRL-P.SUNGHOON

Summary:Ever since you were kids,your brother Jake ,you,and sunghoon had always grown to be a very close trio though they were a year ahead of you in school it didn't change anything among you three ,but since you joined high-school ,you started to realise you'd caught feelings for your bestfriend,and after you find out he had a girlfriend everything between you is always on rocky tides picking up fights over anything that is until one day everything changes ,could be for the better or for the worse

Contains:angst ,smut,fluff (if you squint you'll see)nsfw tags under cut

wc:3.7k

NOTE:This is my first fic ever on this app so I hope you enjoy guys :) and feel free to send me asks

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warning:unprotected sex(pls dont do this),nipple?breast play,making out,oral(mostly f receiving slightly m receiving),pet names(only baby i think),squirting,missionary and doggy positions,lmk if I forgot

You remember the first day you ever laid eyes on Sunghoon ,it was back when you were in 3rd grade and your older brother Jake was a year ahead of you in 4th grade and also a year older ,you were coming back home from school when you saw a moving truck parked in front of your neighbor's house ,you ignored it skipping to our house where outside you saw Jake talking to an unfamiliar boy who looked his age,"Hi Yunnie,what's going on and who's this" you said eyeing the shy boy curiously from head to toe and pointing towards the commotion going on in the compound next to ours."Oh hey little sis,we have new neighbors moving in a couple and their son ,this is the son,Sunghoon"The shy boy was obviously flustered out of being nervous as I could also tell he was quite the introvert ,youstuck your hand out offering a handshake and you smiled at him to which he smiled back,"Hi Sunghoon,I'm y/n but i will call you hoon your name is too long"you laughed then ran inside bidding them both goodbye as they kept talking and went inside to find your mom cooking so you helped her around for the dinner she'd planned with the Park family that evening ,about nearly time Sunghoon came over with his sister who you learned was yeji a very polite quiet girl and that night both our families bonded over dinner,that was day one of your frienship.

All 3 of you became completely inseperable from that day onwards .So you would all practically do everything together never leaving anyone out but it all started once they joined highschool and started acting different especially Jake,for instance since you had very busy parents who were rarely ever home and Jake had just turned into an adult he started wreaking havoc ,late night parties on school nights ,if not he was barely ever home but he still did his part as an older brother but ever since one night he lost his virginity when he had just turned 18 and you had just joined highschool you just couldn't see him the same anymore and ironically at the same exact time,you started catching feelings for sunghoon and it wasn't just the beginning you had noticed started seeing him different from a year earlier ,everytime you were around him your heart beat rose a little ,you would smile uncontrollably ,you would blush for NO reason at all,but you remembered what you were and there was no way he would ever see you how you saw him ,you were just like his little sister to him as if he had not made it obvious enough these mixed up feelings made you confused and scared but also angry,and you decided to blame him for all of this,why did he have to always pull the little sister card on you? and you had had enough of it so you decided you would get him off your mind and erase him from your life,all these thoughts fueled by anger.

That following whole week you left early for school everyday without lettng jake or sunghoon know,jake wasnt all the much bothered but sunghoon sure was,oneday after a week of successfully avoiding them or ore so avoiding sunghoon you were preparing for a class before checking the time on your phone

Just as you put your phone in the locker someone appears behind you,"hey y/n" you turn around to find sunghoon and your face drops "oh hi"you reply back as dry as you can

"C'mere" He says as he leads you to an empty corridor,"Sunghoon let go of me I don't think your girlfriend would like seeing this,and you know how stuff spreads in this school it will reach her",you try pulling your hand out of his grasp,"I know but this is important"he says as he turns to you taking ahold of both yourhands,"Ah what is it?",he bit his lip in concentration looking away before taking a deep breathe and looking at you again ,deep into your eyes, It felt like he was piercing daggers into your skull,"I've been meaning to ask you.."He says "Why've you been avoiding me and acting off for the past week" you raise your eyebrows at him before scoffing and looking away,"you're really asking me this and you have a girlfriend Park sunghoon?"

He was visibly shocked you'd never called him by his two names let alone his full name,"Why not? We've always been close even when I didn't have a girlfriend.. why is it suddenly a big deal now I have a girlfriend..?",you laughed before staring him dead in the eye"You really asking me that?,what do you think sunghoon why do you think I'm doing this huh?"he looked confused and couldn't figure it out and that just made your anger boil more and you got frustrated,"No just no",you move away from him frustrated,"Why are you being like this..?"he says, taking a step forward for every step you take back,","Wait.. we're not done with this conversation yet..!"you roll your eyes at him,"Ugh leave me alone for heaven's sake",you pull harshly at your hand, "I will once you explain this..!" he says, his hold on your wrist getting a little tighter,"Sunghoon let the fuck go of me"He doesn't let go, gripping tighter on your wrist"Stop acting so stubborn and listen to me!" He pinned you against the wall after saying that,"I'll give you 5 minutes to talk park,just five "Fine.." he says with a huff, still keeping you pinned against the wall "But if you're doing this, then you need to listen to me.."He sighs and looks you in the eye"Why are you avoiding me and acting so damn different..?"you closed your eyes trying to calm myself down to not burst out at him but ended up doing it anyway,"Maybe cause I fucking liked you but you were too blind to see that just pulling the little fucking sister card on me every damn time"His eyes widen a bit hearing what you said, he was completely caught off guard and suddenly felt awful"You.. you liked me..?,"you scoff at his shock,"Yes liked as in past tense and it's over if anything you're nothing to me now",you feel him tense"y/n...",I scoff,"what, park",I bite back ,"I liked you too....",your annoyed smirk dropped,"you what-",suddenly he abruptly let go of you,"shit I uhm need to go do something," before you could even respond he ran off,still in a daze you fell to the floor and stared at the ground,"i shouldnt have done that now ive probably ruined evrything between us that was there",you said to yourself,you left to go home where you found Jake getting ready,"where you going jake ?",he briefly smiled at you before responding "Party at yeonjun's he told me to invite you ,if you would like to come",i nodded in understanding before he said,"If you decide to get ready when sunghoon is gonna come over tell him I'm not around if he can to take you to the party," youjust nodded and with a brief pat on the head he left.

you had 2 hours to the party and was feeling a little risky and needed someone to get myyour mind off of sunghoon tonight you decided to wear the sluttiest dress you ever owned which was a thigh high minidress with a slit through the side to right below the hip and some spaghetti straps which exposed her collarbones ,after a finishing touch of make up you decided that was the look you'd be going for ,you still had an hour left to kil so you decided to just scroll through your phone when you heard the doorbell ring,"oh sunghoon,hi",he hesitated a bit before replying,"hey y/n jake's gone right?",youlooked at him confused,"uh yeah,"he closed the door behind him and took of his shoes,hung his jacket on the coat hanger before walking towards you,"thats perfect then..,"he was still walking towards you while you backed away,"S-sunghoon w-what are you doing",he didnt answer but kept walking towards you till he pinned me against the wall,staring down at you with an intense yet soft and dark gaze,while you looked up at him confused,"H-hoon-",he put his finger on your lip to keep you quiet finger slightly lingering there so were his eyes,"i wanna show you how much i truly do love you,that girl you sawme with? she was just a distraction to me from you cause baby i thought about you day and night and knowing how wrong this was because of our friendship i wanted to avoid it but fuck baby i just cant get my mind off of you ,you know that?you make me go crazy baby,will you let me prove my love for you because i love you so damn much y/n?",you was shocked by his confession and couldnt even find words to respond,you just smiled up at him and nodded,then you felt him lean down,he leaned his forehead against yourd and your crackhead self decided to crack a joke,"Guess there was never an intention for a party huh?",he chuckled in his deep voice and the mini you in your head did cartwheels,"oh baby we'll have a party of our own right here",with that he trailed his other hand up my side and rested it at my waist.

"Kiss me hoon",he smirked as if he was waiting for those words,"your wish is my command baby,"with that his lips met you could've moaned at just the feeling of his soft plump lips on mine but held it in but when he bit your lip you audibly moaned and he pulled back and smirked,"you sound so fucking beautiful baby i need to hear more of those pretty moans",you blushed and looked away at his words before he held your chin and turned you to face him,he had this smug smirk you just wanted to wipe off his lips,"how about we go to your room baby its gonna be a long night,"you internally blushed core throbbing with longing,somehow losing your ability to speak around him,"o-okay,"his hands went under your ass lifting you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist and he started kissing you again this time,wrapping your hands around his neck ,fingers tugging at his hair and deepening the kiss it got rougher and rougher and before you knew it you both reached your room and continued making out against the wall he bit your lip again inserting his tongue in your mouth as your tongues fought ,it was messy but none of you was in the right mind to care.

He then set you down,"strip for me baby,"he then went and sat at the edge of the bed watching you with such a piercing gaze you felt youtself shudder before you reached for the strap of your dress pulling it down,then the same on the other side,but you weren't wearing a bra and suddenly felt shy and couldn't move on further,he noticed you hesitate and stood up walking towards you,"Did i make you uncomfortable baby-"you shut him up kissing him abruptly before responding,"no,i want you to take it off yourself",he let out a shaky breath,"oh baby the things you do to me,"he pulled you towards the bed laying you down and was about to lean in again before you put your hand on his chest,"hoonie take this off please"you started unbuttoning his shirt before he stood on his knees and took it off himself before leaning back down kissing your lips briefly and started trailing hot kisses down ,across your jaw ,down your neck down to your collarbone while you arched your back up into the air your chest making contact with his hard one while you moaned uncontrollably before you felt him pull the dress down leaving pecks teasingly around your hardened peaks while looking up at you tracing his tongue around your nipple before finally engulfing it making you let out a moan of relief as he sucked on one breast , his hand massaging the other breast flicking your nipple with his pointer finger ,the aching in your core just intensifed more and more before he finally left your breasts,"hoonie want your cock in me please,"you whimpered,"oh baby ill give it to you wanna taste your pretty pussy first hm?,"you felt scared now no one had ever eaten you out before,"h-hoon what if it tastes weird what if you dont like it-" he shut you up with his finger on my lips shaking his head disapprovingly,before pulling down the rest of your dress,together with your panties.

Once fully bare he spread your legs loudly groaning at the sight,"oh baby how have you been hiding this pretty lil' pussy from me huh?"you couldnt even respond before he was already leaning down licking a fat stripe from your entrance to your clit ,gathering your juices,before circling the bundle of nerves with his tongue while you were writhing beneath him,"fuck hoonie yes please-",he smirked slurping messily before teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue,"please what baby,tell me what you want",you couldn't even form words but i tried,"your f-fingers please hoonie,"he didn't need to be told twice before he slid one finger inside me slowly pumping it in and out curling them just right,"m-more.."you managed to squeak out,"you sure you can take more baby?"you nodded frantically and he added another finger setting a pace pumping them in and out quickly,"hoonie m'gonna cum ngh",he chuckled,"falling apart this fast on my fingers makes me wonder hw long you'll last on my cock baby,go ahead cum on my fingers"feeling the knot in my stomach loosen as you came down from your high,"you okay baby?",you nodded before spreading your legs wider,"fuck me hoonie.."you whimpered.

You heard him inhale sharply before taking of his pants togetherwith his boxers and you saw how big and achingly hard his pretty cock was ,angry red tip with precum glistening at the top decorated with pretty veins you wanted to lick along,but that would be for another day,he then positioned himself between your legs,"ready baby?"you nodded while taking a deep breathe before you felt his tip poke through your entrance and the feeling was like no other,you never pictured yourself letting out such a pornographic moan but even he seemed satisfied with it because he smirked,then he went all the way in before pulling back out and slamming right back in ,he started thrusting fucking in balls deep in an unforgiving pace,"S-shit hoonie so good,"he kept fcking into you without a break,lifting your leg over his shoulder making his tip poke at that exact place that made your legs shake,"yeah baby?....you wanna cum so soon?...i feel you clenching around me baby ,fuck yeah milk my cock dry?"you felt your high approaching fast,"hoon gonna-"he suddenly flipped you onto all fours fucking at an unrelentless pace the new position making him hit deeper to places you never discovered with just your fingers ,he pulled you up your back against his chest as he kept fucking into you nonstop one had coming to your breast pinching and twisting your nipple while the other went south towards your clit circling it in fast circles,"hoon something feels different ngh"you weren't sure if it was good or bad but he kept going and all of a sudden it went black and you felt his thrusts slow down and when you opened my eyes a few seconds later it was wet everywhere,"fuck baby that was so hot you squirted,"you blushed out of embarrasment then remembered ,"hoon you havent-"he chuckled bringing his hand to his cock pumping it extremely fast to get him off while you just watched in awe at the sight infront of you before he came making a mess over yourpussy and fell on top of you catching his breath.

a few minutes later he stood up to get a towel from my bathroom wiping you clean and himself before he got you a shirt and put on his boxers crawling into bed with you leaving small pecks all over your face as your eyes slowly shut,"i love you baby,"you smiled at his words before replying,"i love you to hoonie"then you both fell asleep and that was probably the best sleep you ever had.

safe to say jake and giselle had a lot of questions the next morning when they walked in on you giving hoon the suck of his life

THE END~

(This hasn't been proofread as I had a really bad headache whilst writing so please ignore the errors)

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taglist:@en-verse only <3

this might be a bit confusing i had a headache while writing :)

[juustokaku]

Confidentiality - Chapter 8. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, violence. Dark themes are to be expected. A brief situation of harassment (not by any of the members) in this chapter. A/N: Forgive me for the long wait! I hope the chapter won't be disappointing or incoherent... I like writing this story but my own judgmental thoughts honestly are a kill of joy. I'm happy to receive feedback, be it constructive criticism or positive words. I hope someone will enjoy this <3 Word count: 4 062 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once again, you held the phone to your ear. The sound of the phone ringing was quiet and stable but it did not lessen your anxiety at all. Eventually it stopped ringing, leaving you in heavy silence. 

Jongho hadn’t answered this time either. You had tried to call him at least 20 times in a span of couple days, but it was like he had disappeared from the face of the Earth. Despite being upset at him, you were more worried than you wanted to admit. You also missed him, his stoic nature, and the unexpected moments of sweetness. 

Frustrated, you tossed the phone away. Was Jongho so childish and stubborn that he hid from you on purpose after you had kicked him out of your home? Or could he be in danger? You couldn’t help but feel bad for banishing him. That was how he probably wanted you to feel, but there was nothing to do about the feeling. 

Spring, the season of hope and new beginnings, was near so the weather was warming up. Still, it was already late in the evening. The nights at that time of the year were still cold, and you grabbed a warm jacket; one that did not attract attention. You feared the possibility that some creep would notice and follow you in the dimly lit streets of the little city you lived in. 

Maybe in another life you would have liked walks outside. But this world was evil. If you already hated being outside even in the daylight, when the moon rose on the sky, your senses were heightened to a maximum. 

The walk to Jongho’s place wasn’t practically that long despite it being on a completely different area of the city. He actually lived in a house instead of a crappy, crampy apartment like you did. 

You were always astonished by his house. It was of an appropriate size but screamed how rich he was. A slightly annoyed huff fell from your lips as you thought about how he had said you couldn’t go ice skating for it being too expensive. Dude lived in the most prestigious area of the city but complained about the cost of ice skating. The memory made you smile nonetheless. 

There was a gate separating his yard and house from the street. You rang the doorbell on it, wishing sincerely he’d let you in or at least talk to you. 

The weather wasn’t windy but you still felt cold. Maybe Jongho would see you shivering and let you in out of pity. That is if he was even alive anymore. 

The house stood dark and tall in front of you, and the only thing separating you from Jongho was the gate. Your heart clenched at the unbearable thought of having lost him forever. Losing his friendship felt even harder knowing that you had never had much friends in the first place. 

After 10 minutes, you walked away from the house, steps heavy 9with disappointment. You had driven Jongho away with your anger. It was difficult to remember in that moment that your anger had been completely justified. You just wanted to see Jongho again. 

As if the situation hadn’t been depressing enough already, small, cool drops of water fell on your skin. Even the sky was crying with you.  

You kept walking, bravely telling yourself that you didn’t care about the rain turning into a downpour. But eventually, it started bothering you too much. It was cold, wet and dark, and you felt yourself getting frustrated. 

You found a shelter next to a small grocery store that was nearing its closing hours. Sure, it would have been wiser to go inside the store to warm up for a moment, but you were just going to stay in the shelter for a moment for the rain to stop. 

Some people walked past you out of the store occasionally but you were too deep in your thoughts to pay attention to it. Then a voice of a man clearly talking to you snapped you out of it. 

“Waiting for the rain to stop, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you glanced at the man quickly, not wanting to give him too much attention. 

Noticing that the middle-aged man was dressed up in dirty clothes and reeked of alcohol made you already uneasy. But the look in his dazed eyes was more concerning; he eyed you up and down, and smiled at you. It was not a kind nor inviting smile. It was a predatory smile flashed at you with yellow teeth. 

“I can wait with you so you won’t be lonely.” 

You felt your heartrate speed up. There was no way that man had good intentions with the way he shifted closer to you. 

“Thanks, but there’s no need to... Your groceries should be taken to your fridge quickly before they get bad.” 

Your attempt to politely refuse his offer didn’t work. 

“Oh, sweet girl. Don’t worry, I don’t have any purchases that need immediate care,” the man grinned and moved closer once again to show the contents of his plastic bag. 

It didn’t surprise you to find the bag was filled with beer bottles. You had to come up with a new excuse. 

“What about your wife? She’s surely waiting for you already.” 

“Hm? You’re prettier than her. Not so wrinkly and not always nagging about my drinking.” 

You felt disgusted on so many levels; the man had no right to talk that way about his wife when he looked like a malformed abomination of a rat that had escaped from the sewers. Hell, no man should talk about their own wife like that, no matter the looks. 

“A pretty girl like you deserves a man like me. Young men nowadays are so feminine and sensitive,” the man smirked arrogantly, “A true man knows his own power and how to use it to his advantage.” 

Your hand slipped inside your pocket. It was not for warmth but for reaching the pepper spray. Everyone used to laugh at you for carrying that because you’d probably never have to use it. But you’d have the last laugh. 

“What are you hiding in your pockets?” the man’s eyes were directed at your hands, a deep frown settling on his face. 

“J-Just warming up my hands.” 

“Bullshit. Are you trying to call the police on me?” 

If you were afraid before, now you were definitely terrified. How could you even use the pepper spray when your hands were trembling in fear? 

“You stupid bitch. What did I even do? Women don’t appreciate compliments these days anymore!” the man shouted angrily, and instead of standing lazily like before, he turned his body wholly towards you. 

You couldn’t freeze in that moment. No way in hell were you going to let that man touch you. 

But as you were about to pull the pepper spray from your pocket, a familiar voice caught both your and the man’s attention. 

“Step away from her.” 

Your head snapped into the direction of the voice, and you noticed; Yunho stood there, firm and commanding. For the first time in your life, you saw him in a good light. The long coat he wore could have been a superhero cloak, that’s how grateful you were. 

“Who are you to command me like that?” the drunkard scoffed at Yunho. 

But as Yunho walked closer, the man seemingly realized how much taller Yunho was, how much at disadvantage the man was. 

“I’m telling you one last time to step away and leave immediately.” 

“Pfft. What are you? A policeman?” the man attempted to assert dominance and show off his fragile masculinity. 

“In fact, I am. Although I’m off-duty, I have a couple weapons with me,” Yunho said, clearly not intimidated at all, “I won’t shoot you but I can guarantee that getting tazed doesn’t feel pleasant either.” 

To emphasize his words, Yunho pulled out a taser and swung it in his hands. The other man’s defiant expression morphed into a pathetic look of fear. 

“Sorry, man. I’ll go,” the man rushed away like there was a tail between his legs. 

You looked at Yunho with admiration. Even the guilt for doubting his intentions and nature before didn’t shake your mind at that moment; you just needed desperately to show your appreciation for him. 

Still, the best you could do was look at Yunho with wide eyes and utter a few words. 

“Thank you.” 

Yunho smiled, looking almost giddy when you talked to him, “I just did my duty.” 

“Your duty as a policeman?” 

“Yes, but mostly my duty as your personal protector.” 

A little giggle left your lips at Yunho’s comment. There was a warm feeling of gratitude in your chest. Yunho had never been a bad man after all although acting quite weirdly occasionally. 

“I’m more than just grateful. You saved me from a dangerous situation.” 

Yunho’s cheeks flushed and an adorable, sheepish smile spread on his lips. Having been always suspicious of him, you hadn’t realized before how sweet he looked every time you talked to him.  

“Let me walk you home. You must be scared after meeting that creep,” Yunho extended his hand out for you. In his other hand he held an umbrella which had a Spiderman print. 

What was the worst thing that could happen if you took his hand in yours? 

You felt like the company of a man who had proven his good intentions would bring you safety on your way home. You grabbed Yunho’s large hand in yours, feeling comforted yet a little nervous. 

“So, you like Spiderman?” 

Yunho chuckled at your question. He seemed overjoyed to walk hand-in-hand with you even though it was raining cats and dogs. 

“He’s what I want to become. A hero.” 

You smiled softly and couldn’t resist the temptation to say something corny, “You’re already my hero.” 

Yunho laughed heartily and glanced at you. His eyes were twinkling, replacing the stars that couldn’t be seen that night due to the clouded sky. 

“What are you doing out this late anyways?” he inquired. 

The air felt a little colder again as your thoughts wandered to Jongho. 

“Jongho has disappeared. I’ve tried to contact him but there’s no answer,” you revealed, “I went to his house tonight in hopes of finding him there, but it’s like he’s avoiding me.” 

Something flickered in Yunho’s eyes for a split second before a thoughtful look set on his face. He squeezed your hand a little. 

“That must be rough. He’s your boyfriend after all.” 

“Well, not anymore. There was an incident that led to me breaking up with him,” you muttered. 

The man next to you nodded and spoke again, “I can help you find him. I’m a policeman, you know? We may not have enough reason to report him as missing, but I have my knowledge of finding missing people as my offer.” 

Yunho’s hand may have been warm but the smile on his face was even warmer; it comforted you. 

When the two of you eventually stood at your doorstep, Yunho’s reluctance to let go of your hand was clear. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed in concern. 

“Are you okay? The man must have scared you badly.” 

You let go of Yunho’s hand to pull the pepper spray out of your pocket. 

“You’re my favorite hero but this one will come in handy sometimes too,” you chuckled. 

Yunho smiled, “Just call me whenever you need help with anything. And I mean anything.” 

You offered your phone for Yunho to type in his number. Suddenly, he frowned. 

“Why is your home screen wallpaper a picture of you and Yeosang?” he asked, voice a few degrees colder than before. 

It was strange to see that sweet man get so worked up over a simple picture. 

“Yeosang is practically my only friend. I like to have a reminder of that now I have someone to rely on.” 

The embarrassment in your voice was clear as you were forced to explain your sad situation of friendships. At least Yunho’s expression softened. 

“I’ll be your friend from now on. Make sure to spend time with me... and change that wallpaper,” Yunho spoke. 

The next week Jongho wasn’t at the group therapy meeting. Just like the week before, he was gone, leaving you worried. But at least now you had someone who would be able to help search for him. 

The room felt so empty without him but no-one else seemed to care. 

Charlotte didn’t even question Jongho’s absence that time, just moving straight to the activities of the day. 

“Find yourself a pair,” Charlotte guided with a mysterious smile, “I won’t tell you what the activity is yet.” 

Wooyoung and San paired up immediately, and Seonghwa and Hongjoong glanced at each other in agreement. They had found their cliques, the person who they got along with the best. It was beyond your understanding though how someone as sweet as Seonghwa could like Hongjoong. 

You didn’t even have time to get up from your seat when Yunho had appeared in front of you like out of thin air. You felt a little intimidated and small while he stood over you, but the fear you used to feel around him was gone. He was just a gentle giant, the hero who had saved you from a situation that could have escalated. 

“Be my pair,” Yunho requested. 

His request was tempting but there was someone else standing a little farther away, looking at you longingly; it was Yeosang. 

“I think Yeosang wants-” 

“Please,” Yunho said, voice soft and almost vulnerable. 

You didn’t want to betray Yeosang but Yunho’s sad look tugged at your heartstrings. It didn’t take too long for you to give an apologetic look to Yeosang and a nod for Yunho. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Yeosang walk over to Mingi and pair up with him. You’d apologize to Yeosang later. 

Yunho sat down next to you, his long legs brushing against yours briefly. Now that he was sitting next to you just like the first time you met, he seemed satisfied. 

“The topic of today is relationships to other people. Discuss with your partner about the person who has the most meaning in your life right at this moment,” Charlotte revealed the task. 

That was the hardest topic for you so far. There had never been much people to start with who would have cared about you as you cared about them. It was a curse to love but to be unable to be loved. Sometimes you wished upon the stars that you could stop caring about people. However, no matter how much you cried after lost friends, the universe just brought more people to lose into your life. 

Maybe that’s why Jongho’s disappearance bothered you so much. Losing another friend was expected but the way he had completely vanished was slowly breaking you apart. You couldn’t help but blame yourself. It had been completely justified to kick him out of your apartment that day he threw the plate on Yeosang’s face; you shouldn’t feel ashamed. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” 

Yunho’s voice brought you back on Earth, saving you from your drowning thoughts. 

You might have lost Jongho’s friendship but you gained Yunho’s. It was just the matter of time when you’d mess up that situation as well. 

“I’m okay. I was just thinking what to talk about in this topic,” your smile was weak yet reassuring enough. 

“If it helps you, I can go first,” Yunho suggested. 

At your nod, Yunho began to talk about the person who meant the most to him. His eyes practically shined like he was passionate about the chance to finally tell you about the love of his life. 

“There’s a woman who stole my heart a couple years ago. I haven’t been able to think about anyone else after she caught my attention.” 

It was honestly adorable to hear Yunho ramble about the woman. A hint of jealousy gnawed at your insides; for someone to love you like Yunho loved the woman was a dream. 

“The way she walked out of the police station, the way she talked to the other officers, scared and needing help... It made me realize the meaning of my life isn’t to protect all the people. It’s to protect her.” 

Yunho was clearly devoted. His words were sweet at first. The way he talked about her was a clear indication of how much she had affected his life. But suddenly his words took a slightly darker turn. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe and happy in my arms. It doesn’t matter if I have to burn her house or the whole world as long as she runs to me for safety,” Yunho spoke, his voice loving, the complete opposite of his words. 

“Wow, she’s one lucky girl,” you chuckled nervously. 

Surely Yunho must have meant it as a joke. He was a man of justice, not an arsonist. 

“She’s my lucky girl,” Yunho smiled softly at you, “So, who is the person you hold dear to your heart?” 

You still hadn’t come up with a good answer. The only friends you had in that moment were Yeosang and Yunho, but you knew neither of them well enough. Jongho had grown quite close with you, at least you liked to think so, but he was gone now. 

“I don’t really have people who are close to me,” you admitted reluctantly, feeling unsure if you should tell these kinds of things. 

“Just say anyone.” 

“Well, I think Yeosang is the closest to me right now.” 

Yunho’s encouraging smile turned into a frown. It baffled you; there was always a chance that you could be the woman Yunho loved, but he had mentioned having met her a couple years ago already. 

“Yeosang? Why him?” 

“I think he’s kind to me, and we’ve hung out a lot.” 

Your murmured explanation didn’t satisfy Yunho. It was obvious how hard he tried to control his facial expressions, to hide how upset he was. 

“Haven’t I been kind to you?” Yunho inquired. 

“Yes, you have but-”  

“Did you change your wallpaper yet?” 

“I-I forgot,” as soon as you answered, Yunho grabbed your purse and started going through the contents of it. 

Your eyes widened as he took the matter of changing your wallpaper into his own hands. He was rummaging through your little bag, and you couldn’t let that happen. A woman’s purse was a private thing, especially when that woman was slightly paranoid at the excuse of valued safety. 

“Hey! Give it back,” you reached for your purse. 

Yunho didn’t care and kept taking things out of it, letting them fall to the floor. Some makeup, a hairbrush and wallet were already in everyone’s sight. 

“Yunho, give Y/N her bag back, please,” Charlotte finally tried to stop the situation but her spineless words meant nothing to Yunho. 

You tried desperately to gather your things before anything too personal would be revealed, but Yunho just kept throwing things out. 

“What is this?” Wooyoung grabbed an object from the floor, inspecting it in his hand. 

Your face heated up at the sight of Wooyoung holding something private. Gazing at him angrily from the floor, you were about to demand him to give it back. 

“That’s a woman diaper!” Mingi exclaimed, shocked at the unbelievable, astonishing, mind-blowing sight of a menstrual pad. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening. All your stuff on the floor for everyone to see and judge, and now Wooyoung and Mingi had humiliated you with their discovery. 

“No, Mingi. That is called a menstrual pad,” Charlotte spoke softly like talking to a child. 

You wished Jongho was there to knock some sense into everyone. Most likely, he wouldn’t have even done that, but you liked to believe he would have defended your honor. The honor that went down the drain like your appreciation and respect for Yunho. 

San snatched the pad from Wooyoung’s hands, clearly frustrated. With no hesitation he walked to you and kneeled down on your level. 

“Let me help you,” he said quietly and gave you the pad. 

It was just a mere hygiene product, but to you, it felt like he was giving the prettiest flower bouquet ever. In your moment of helplessness, he had wanted to help you. 

San started gathering the objects from the floor to their rightful place, your purse. His lips were pressed tightly together like he was feeling annoyed. 

“You don’t have to help if you don’t want to,” you spoke quietly, feeling exhausted because of the emotional rollercoaster. 

“I want to help,” he looked up a little to give you a gentle smile, “What kind of a person would I be if I didn’t?” 

“Apparently the kind everyone else is.” 

San chuckled at your bitter mumble. You could see he was holding back his own irritation to calm you down. 

Soon, Yeosang joined in to help you and San. You were grateful for those two; the only people in the room you respected. Seonghwa had the potential to be one of those as well, but his friendship with Hongjoong made you mentally avoid him. 

Once all your belongings were back in the purse, you turned to Yunho. It was hard to be angry at people whether you knew them well or not; if you knew someone well, you were afraid they’d leave you and if you didn’t know them well, you were afraid they’d be violent. That’s why expressing your feelings of hurt felt dangerous. 

You snatched your phone away from Yunho. Surprisingly, the wallpaper hadn’t been changed. 

“Why is the wallpaper still the same?” you were gritting your teeth as you spoke. 

“I couldn’t unlock your phone,” Yunho’s expression turned guilty, “Look, I’m sorry-” 

“Save it. I’m going home.” 

You had gone through that terrible moment just for Yunho to not even change your wallpaper. Sure, you should have been glad he couldn’t unlock your phone, but it felt somehow so futile. 

As you rid the bus home, you couldn’t help but think; the group therapy didn’t feel helpful or healing at all. You had found Yeosang and Jongho through it, but at what cost? One of the members was a stalker for God’s sake. 

Speaking of which, you hadn’t noticed much signs of the stalker in the near days. Would it have been naive to think that fake dating Jongho could have scared him away? Probably yes. 

You got off the bus and started making your way back to home. Usually, it was darker at that time of the day, but the seasons were changing. You wished you could change too. You wished you could put an end to your sickness and struggles, to live a normal life, so you wouldn’t have to deal with the sickos at the group therapy. 

Maybe it was time to stop going to the therapy. You’d rather live without the social assistance of the government than step inside the nightmarish room of armchairs and supposedly therapeutic talk again. 

As you arrived at your door, you reached into your purse like you did every day. A twinge of panic twitched inside your chest as you couldn’t find your keys. They were most likely just deeper inside the purse, and you’d have to look again. 

But no matter how much you searched, the keys weren’t there in your purse, jingling like they always did. There was no sight of them even when you emptied the whole purse. 

You were positive you, Yeosang, and San had picked up all the objects from the floor. All your other belongings were with you but the keys were gone. It would have been more pleasant if the damn pad had been left behind, but now you were denied the access to your own apartment. 

It was possible that someone took your keys when they were still on the floor.  

But now the most important thing was to find a place you could sleep at. You didn’t trust your neighbors and you couldn’t afford a hotel room. After some thinking you realized your only option was to beg Yeosang to let you sleep in his apartment. Such a splendid idea to have a sleepover with a man you met in a therapy group for mentally ill.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ <- Chapter 7. Chapter 9. -> Masterlist ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist: @devilzliaison @lover-with-dolar-sign-is-a-loser @passerbyforfun @gigikubolong29 @peqchplvto

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 11

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

A bitter taste in your mouth and the pulsing in your head were cruel reminders of the hangover. You sat on the bed, holding your slightly warm forehead as the room spun gently, flashing disjointed glimpses of the previous night in your mind. All you could recall was asking to stay home alone after having a few drinks with your friends.

A groan escaped your lips as your eyes landed on the grotesque mess of your room—of your house in general. An absurd urge rose to deal with the unpacked boxes still holding your belongings and the suitcases stuffed with clothes.

There was no point in keeping those bags packed as if everything could return to how it was with the snap of a finger. You needed to accept that this was your new life, and there was no use fighting it.

After stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and a toothbrush clinging to the side of your lips, you searched for clothes amid the piles on the floor. Tossing skirts, dresses, pants, and socks into the air, you paused when your fingers brushed against a T-shirt at the bottom of a box. Closing your eyes, you caught its scent—it hadn’t changed. Slipping it on felt like being wrapped in his arms again, if only for a moment.

A few items later, you found a locked wooden box. Glancing around, you spotted pliers among your nail accessories and pressed the tip against the padlock until it popped open. Inside were hundreds of printed photographs—every single one of just the two of you.

It had been so long since you smiled like that. If you didn’t know every detail of his face by heart, you might have thought those weren’t even the two of you in the pictures.

Old napkins with autographs scrawled on them—every one you’d signed for him after bar performances. He’d kept them all. Your fingers traced the messy handwriting you used to have, and a silly smile graced your face.

“So this is what you’ve been wanting back,” you muttered to yourself before putting everything back in the box. “Should’ve burned this crap when I had the chance.”

You had thought that burying the box deep beneath your clothes would also bury the memories that came with it. Ever since he turned his back on you without even hearing what you had to say the night before, you’d tried to think about anything but him.

"Alright, Noah. You did the right thing not listening to me," you grumbled, heading to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste, rinse your mouth, and stare at your reflection in the mirror. “I do everything better on my own anyway.”

Gerard was still a weight in your life, a burden you wanted to cut loose as quickly as possible. But to do that, you needed to act, no matter the cost. Bad Omens had no shadow of new material for the album, which meant more time with him hovering over everyone.

That had to change.

Barefoot, feeling the cold floor beneath you, you walked down the hallway, fingers sliding along the banister, which echoed with that odd, creaky sound. You began pacing back and forth, pen in hand. A kind of anxious energy grew inside your chest, but ideas slipped away like sand through your fingers.

There was nothing. No melody, no line worth keeping. As if nothing inspired you anymore—unless you were high.

The thought was a spark. You knew what you needed to do.

The instant the first line disappeared beneath the swipe of a card, the world transformed. First came the heat, spreading through your body like a controlled wildfire. Then, space seemed to stretch, as though the walls were made of rubber, and your perception opened up like an infinite fan. The world was no longer the same.

Now you could see sounds.

The first sound came from the simple scratch of fingers against a metal surface, a tiny rhythm that echoed and vibrated in your head like thunder. That was all you needed. You sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling paper toward you. A melody began to take shape, hesitant at first, but soon you were sketching each note with precision.

With each new line of powder, the music gained another dimension. The beat in your head morphed into something visceral, something real. I watched you turn into it... The phrase seemed to emerge from somewhere deep inside, and you scrawled it with such force you nearly tore the paper.

Another line. Another phrase.

Every moment you returned from the haze, something new took form:

"This life was all it had to be Designed but not for you and me..."

The lyrics spilled out like a confession, something you might not even have known was there until that moment. Every chord you strummed on the guitar in your living room, every word you breathed out with your cigarette smoke, felt more intimate, more deranged. The riff grew intense, and you let yourself dance alone, fingers gliding over the strings.

The rhythm of the pen against the paper merged with the pounding of your heart and the sway of your hair as the melody gained its identity. It felt as though you were carving out a piece of yourself, tearing it from raw flesh to transform pain into music. The ending came like an explosion.

"The empty husk of a flawed design There is nothing else left inside Within the silence of this illusion Is there anything more than human?"

Slowly, you let go of the pen, leaning your head back, breathless, as sweat dripped down the back of your neck. At that moment, the front doorbell rang. You had a song. This time, a real song, not the trash you had presented at the label. You definitely had a song.

"Anything human..." Jolly seemed to toy with the words that named the song for a moment. You got excited as you gave a quick demonstration, and he looked thrilled with the idea from the start.

“What do you think?” you asked, nodding toward him as you removed the guitar from your lap. “There are some elements that could be interesting to add to the final result, like a slightly more electronic base. You know?”

“It’s a damn great song!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, raising his eyebrows, and your shoulders finally relaxed. “But I’m a little concerned about your creative process…” His eyes swept across the mess in the room before landing back on you. “Okay, we’re way behind on delivering the album, and we don’t have much…”

“We don’t have anything,” you interjected to correct him. “We have nothing yet, and Noah doesn’t seem too worried about it since all he ever does is criticize what I make.”

“But the problem is, every time you get hyped during a creative process, it messes with your head. And I’m no idiot, girl—I know your little tricks to keep yourself inspired. If having a quick album is going to cost me a band member, I’d rather stay at square one!” he warned, pointing his finger at you.

“I can handle it myself, okay? Now let’s get back to the music and the band!”

“It really is a good song.”

“I need you to tell Noah that it was your idea and that you wrote it alone.”

You barely finished the request before Jolly adjusted his posture on the sofa, looking confused.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you know that when he’s sulking about something, he manages to turn it into nothing more than a pile of garbage in his eyes. That’s what he’s been doing with me,” you explained, trying to suppress a smile. “If you say I wrote this song, he’ll definitely discard it, and we’ll be back at square one. And I doubt that, like me, you don’t have your own reasons for wanting this album to be finished already.”

He considered your words for a moment. Reluctant as he was, he had to admit you were right, knowing his friend as well as he did.

“Of course, I’m not going to let him discard a song like this, but even if I go along with your suggestion, I still think it’s a ridiculous idea,” Jolly said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the sheet of paper again to analyze your work. “Did your idea of talking to him not work?”

“He’d rather face the devil in his true form than see me in front of him, Jolly.” Propping yourself up on your hands, you stared at him with a pout. “Noah decided that I don’t exist, not even within the band’s boundaries. It’s like I’m really not there, and that’s fine.”

“Fine?” he asked, tearing his attention from the sheet again.

“I feel like the best thing he can do for himself is stay away from me. We can deal with it, right? But if he thinks I’m going to leave my band because of him and our personal issues just because he’s decided he can keep interfering in my life, he’s dead wrong.”

“You’re so stubborn I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you two were made for each other.”

“You’re wrong. Terribly wrong, Mr. Joakim!”

He clearly didn’t believe your words, judging by the ironic huff and eye roll he gave before returning his attention to the song’s lyrics on the paper.

The studio was enveloped in a comfortable dimness, with faint lights reflecting off the perfectly aligned instruments. The silence preceding rehearsal was almost ceremonial. Noah stood before the microphone, adjusting his headphones while the others exchanged glances, aligning themselves to start.

“Alright, let’s go.” His voice cut through the air with firmness, but there was something in the way he held the stand, in his eyes avoiding direct contact.

The first beat was like a held breath, the bass pulsing gently before the smooth guitar chords emerged, as if asking permission to exist. Noah tilted his head, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the music flow within him before he began to sing.

His voice was hoarse, laden with emotion, every word cutting through the silence like a blade. He held the notes with precision, but there was a controlled desperation, a longing that was impossible to ignore. The others instinctively adjusted, following his lead. The drums entered like a racing heartbeat, while the guitar intensified, driving the music to something more visceral, rawer.

“That was fucking good!” he said with what seemed like the shadow of a smile at the end of the song, giving Jolly a quick handshake. “You nailed it, but I didn’t know you had something in mind; we could’ve worked on it together.”

Jolly’s gaze darted between Noah and you, and after taking a deep breath, he simply shrugged. “I was just as surprised at how quickly this song landed in my lap.”

“With a few adjustments, we’ve hit the tone for the new album. It feels like it’s finally easier to know where we’re heading,” Noah declared, still with his back to you. You rolled your eyes at the sheer amount of obviousness he spouted. From this angle, it was amusing how flustered he got when he wasn’t the first to figure something out.

“I have another idea!” You raised your hand, waving it enthusiastically, the excitement coursing through you undeniable. You shifted your weight back and forth, catching everyone’s attention except his. “Each track’s intro could contain a coded message, like clues to the central story. Since you love being a trailblazer, I thought of using your voice, Noah. What do you think?”

From this distance, you could see his hand clenching the microphone tighter than necessary. He recognized that euphoric tone and the insatiable urge to provoke him—he knew you were high.

“I think it’s a good idea!” Ruffilo chimed in.

“Me too. Actually, I already have an idea for how it could start,” Jolly added, pulling the same thoughtful face he always did when brainstorming.

“I’ve never heard a dumber idea in my entire life,” Noah said softly, placing the mic stand back in its spot, still refusing to look at you. “Don’t tell me you want to burden us with this melancholic nonsense like the last thing you produced?”

“I asked for your opinion on the idea, not your permission,” you retorted sarcastically.

Noah grunted as if hearing you was physically painful.

“You’re right—some projects shouldn’t see the light of day, like that song of yours. But I don’t get why you’re so offended when creating useless things has always been your specialty.” You shrugged, sitting atop the sound output box. “Just look at your desk drawer—how many songs has Bad Omens released, and how many were actually written by me, Jolly, or you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about!” he snapped. “You talk like you’ve done everything by yourself all these years!”

“Guys, I think that’s enough for today, right?” Folio chuckled awkwardly, jumping off the drum set as he noticed Noah tense up.

“The math doesn’t add up, Noah!” you mocked. “So, every time you refer to something I wrote, just open your drawer and count how many of your songs actually made it out of there.”

Silencing him in his moments of arrogance was one of your greatest talents, and nothing satisfied you more than that. “Honestly, Jolly’s voice would work much better for this intro idea. Who’s in favor?”

Your neck stretched as a triumphant smile spread across your face when everyone, except Noah, raised their hands immediately. He glanced at each of them, as if silently promising vengeance, and the sweetness of defeating him was palpable.

“Then it’s settled, folks!” you cheered, clapping your hands with a satisfied grin.

Gradually, your smile faded as he slowly turned around, his expression dark, especially around his eyes. His breathing came in measured scales, as if it was difficult for him, and as his eyes locked with yours, you stood up. You were ready to stand your ground if necessary, but there was no way he’d win this time.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

All the guys said simultaneously. “Man, I’m starving. Catch you later.”

They disappeared in the snap of a finger, leaving her alone with the very reincarnation of the devil in the form of a man. Noah approached with slow steps, and the wind deliberately brought his scent. Even at this reasonable distance, he seemed to emanate enough electricity to make the hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Well, look who broke the little silence game.

“You’re pathetic.”

“That line is mine, hey!” you pointed out.

Another step, and Noah was too close, leaning his body down so they were at the same height. He braced one hand against the wall. You tried to step back, but the speaker right behind you limited your movement, forcing you to step to the side—nothing that stopped him from following you like a bloodhound. If he cultivated a good sense of hearing, he could probably hear how your heart was pounding against your chest from the proximity of your faces.

“Every time I’m talking to you, I want you to look at me,” he ordered, lifting my chin so that my gaze left his sculpted lips and locked onto his blazing eyes. “Congratulations.”

He said in a whisper that churned your stomach.

“I understand that liars have difficulty speaking while looking into someone’s eyes, but in time you’ll learn. Just like you’ve been learning to lie better and better.”

“Do you want me to thank you for the compliment?” you retorted in a biting tone as low as his and almost managed to crack the smirk on his rigid posture if he hadn’t corrected himself in time.

“They might all fall for this ridiculous talk of yours, but I know the song is yours.”

“So you admit you were praising a work done by me?” you asked, reducing the distance between you two. Your tongue moistened your lip as you heard him gasp from the short space between your bodies, and you couldn’t help but feel your skin tingle at the sensation of his eyes analyzing your face. “Still my number one fan, Noah Sebastian?”

He looked feverish, battling between gritting his teeth at your insolence and resisting being so close. Noah took another step forward, planting a single hand on your jaw, and your back collided with the wall, your hair scattering across it.

“Stop,” he growled without much confidence.

His closed eyes brushed the tip of his nose against yours as the compression of your bodies became stronger. You gasped as his leg pressed between yours and the pressure he applied to your jaw while dragging his face along yours was about to make your body explode.

Struggling against his hand and the alternating temperature of your body, you tilted your chin so that your lips came closer together. You could taste the flavor of his lips on yours, always soft and perfectly fitting as if they were made for this. Gently, the moment allowed you to brush against each other slowly, feeling the texture of his sculpted skin that seemed to remain the same after all this time.

But something pulled him out of the trance suddenly, and Noah grabbed your jaw again as he pulled you closer to deliver a message into your ear.

“Don’t seek me out with an intention like this again unless you’re capable of remembering what happened the next day,” he said in a rigid tone as he released you.

Your body cooled so quickly that you guessed you were a little stunned.

“And that shirt is mine. What happened to the story that you’d gotten rid of everything that belonged to me?”

You were furious. After the ecstasy, the excitement, and all the strange things that messed with you whenever you wore this crap, fury was the stage that seemed to linger the longest when it took over your body. Arms crossed, you watched him walk away as if nothing had happened. In fact, he was satisfied with having tied the score.

He had managed to humiliate you.

“Want it back?” you asked and saw him glance over his shoulder.

“Of course I do.”

Nodding and biting your lips, you uncrossed your arms, and without breaking eye contact in his direction, you grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it off completely. Luckily, you were wearing a matching lingerie set, and your sweet smile only deepened as you crumpled the piece and threw it against his wide-eyed face.

“Wait!” he called out, trying to follow as you strutted out of the studio. “Where do you think you’re going like that?”

“Home!” you replied as if it were obvious, shrugging as you stepped through the door.

Outside, the guys were eating, and their jaws dropped, along with slices of pizza from their mouths, as they saw you walking around in nothing but your underwear and boots.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!” Noah roared, trying to keep up. “Get back inside and put some clothes on, now!”

“Or?” you challenged him, the wind sweeping the strands of hair from your face as you walked backward and flipped him off when he didn’t move. “Like I said: You’re pathetic.”

“What are you laughing at?”

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline

[cinderblockgabbs]

Hi here’s a loooooooooonggg rant from the one that can’t go on without inserting Wilford into every egos life in any way possible…

For context: I see engineer mark as a separate person from actor mark, but he’s also like actors self insert, or how he interprets himself if he were an awesome engineer in the year 2080- something. This doesn’t mean that they’re the same person, at least not anymore, they just have a lot of the Same personality traits and the same name.

I also see a large portion of iswm in general as a really messed up retelling of wkm that’s been retold and reset so many times it’s become a completely new and different thing. This isn’t saying that every iswm character is supposed to symbolize every wkm character, but at one point, SOME were vaguely based off of marks interpretation of his wkm friends. It’s kinda like an answer to the ship of Theseus.

Anyways, One of the things we see as the captain is mark being stuck with the warp core where we watch him tweak out and slowly build the warp core up again which makes that chain reaction that sets off kinda everything that happens in iswm. I’m saying this cuz I like thinking it’s a parallel to actor mark creating his vengeance plan against William and stuff. I see it that way because both engineer marks and actor mark were stuck in isolation for forever, and they couldn’t die, so they were miserable. AND AND AND, both marks FIRMLY BELEIVED their closest friend (engie’s being the captain and mark’s being William) were ACTUALLY EVILLL AND THEY WANTED TO STOP THEM . The creation of the warp core and the poker night both came from this crazed and desperate guy who convinced himself that what he was doing, despite it being bound to hurt people, was the right thing to do.

The only difference between engie and actor tho is that engineer mark felt actually so terrible after he realized that he was in the wrong, while actor mark genuinely CANT see that he even COULD be wrong.

MEANWHILEEE Wilford’s in iswm, it doesn’t matter why, he’s just kinda doing whatever. I like thinking that at one point Wilford would’ve seen engineer mark at his lowest. Wilford, being actually so sad and stupid as a character, would see actor mark in engineer mark. Like he sees a lot of iswm characters like if they were just wkm characters in silly costumes. This is a coping mechanism cuz deep down Wilford KNOWS he’s not talking to his old friends at all.

Just like in WMLW, I think Wilford would want to try to make amends with actor mark , but actor really REALLY hates Wilford, so this could never happen. Until Wilford meets engineer mark yayyyyyyy 😛😛

So then Wilford tries saying sorry for everything and I miss you and whatever to who he thinks is his ex best friend and little brother (I hc them as step brothers) but it’s just engineer mark being like “..ok…🤨”

BUT THEN ALSO LAST THING LAST THING, since Wilford caught engie at such a low point in his life he would feed into Wilford’s delusions because engineer mark (just like actor for a time) is completely alone and has nobody. And since engineer mark is like actor marks space self insert, and mark put a lot of his personality into engineer mark, engie feels a familiar resentment to Wilford but also a familiar longing to hear him out and he doesn’t know why and probably never will and when engineer mark realizes and accepts that he’s in the wrong which breaks the cycle of actor marks self destruction infliction of pain into everybody else, JUST WHEN EVERYTHING IS OVER AND ENGINEER MARK FINALLY GETS A BETTER LIFE OUT OF THAT DAMN SHIP, he might not even remember who told him whatever he had to hear at his lowest, but he’ll remember that whoever they were, they helped him a little. maybe. just a bit..

That’s all I have that’s the end of the rant if anybody has something ANYTHING AT ALL to add pleaseeeeeee do I’m desperate to talk about obscure Markiplier lore and headcanons to anybody

[hollyhomburg]

(Angst) I have this headcannon for the angsty alternative ending for BILY, that when the pack are in their ‘living apart, no idea where the m/c is or if she’s safe/hurting/needs them but trying to be respectful of the fact that she does not want to be apart of the pack anymore’ era sometimes… her mating mark starts to feel like an ache, and the loneliness burns through her no matter how much she tries to ignore it.

And she tosses and turns in her little attic apartment aware that she doesn’t even have their numbers anymore because it’s been a year or two too long, she doesn’t even remember what yoongis might be. But she knows where the house is, she knows how to get too it.

So…she goes, looks at it from the street first, the warm windows upstairs, the dark downstairs, the soft light in taes library room. Sometimes she gets angry by the fact that she can’t turn back time, can’t go back.

Other times- when the touchstarvedness feels like a gaping wound, she ascends those steps and sits on the outdoor furniture, just for a bit. Just to soak in the little bit of the packs scents, just a tiny bit of their comforting presence. Aware that someone is watching from the window, that there is light under the door, that it’s probably not locked, she could go in but-

She doesn’t. She just sits out there and closes her eyes and then leaves. Sometimes she wishes the packmate watching her would come out and yell at her, shake her by her baggy hoody, and ask her what the fuck shes doing- sitting out here like a stray dog when she’s the one who ran away but they never do.

Once she falls asleep and wakes up to a blanket covering her. Unsure who noticed her out there cheeks burning angry suddenly at no one and nothing just- angry at how things played out. And she leaves- without ever knowing who in the pack is still holding a flame for her.

If I had to put my money on who it was, I’d say jimin. Because logically- anyone else would confront her, spook her with their concern, or worse. But jimin has always been a calculating alpha, has always been able to picture the long con.

He takes in everything- her clothes, not dirty (so she isn’t Litterally homeless, which is good because then he might not manage to resist dragging her inside), but that her wrists- thin and her cheeks- hollow. more hollow than they’ve ever been before (which is not good, because if she dies yoongi dies and she might- she needs)

She looks like rage and grief and trauma are eating her alive again. And jimin would be startled by this- but he sees it every day in yoongi so- he’s a little too used to it.

So Jimîn turns his instincts down to a simmer, and settles for the long hunt

Maybe once or twice when she comes over jimin notices and comes outside- doesn’t say anything just sits next to her, neither of them offering a hand- but maybe a cigarette every now and then. The smoke burning out the words they can’t say- or maybe they actually do talk. Eventually, after the first few times. I imagine it’s one where she comes to him and her hands are visibly shaking. It’s not even winter out anymore- it’s not even cold but she couldn’t lift a glass to her lips without spilling it.

And jimîn wonders if it’s Parkingsons? Drugs? Hunger? It’s hard to tell.

So instead jimîn asks, “do you need money?”

“No, why?” Her voice sounds the same, and jimin does not cry hearing it. Somehow he thought she’d sound different. But it’s the same voice that tae hears in her nightmares, the same voice that jimin once heard begging for namjoons life- the same voice he hears on one of the few recordings yoongi has on his old phone that seem to be the only thing that helps these days.

It’s the same, and jimin almost thought she might not be able to talk still.

He breathes deep, because those times have passed now. They’re both here. Mostly Alive. Jimin geastures with the cigarette.

“To stop whatever that is.” But she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything but shove her hands in her pockets. She leaves- and jimin almost lets her go without saying anything.

“You could come inside you know.” Jimin drinks in the way she looks back at him, half hidden in the shadow at the edge of the streetlight already.

“I know, I just don’t want too.”

And that hurts, that leaves jimjn smoking a whole pack on the porch until the sun starts to rise and his eyes are bloodshot But she comes back, she always comes back.

Jimin starts to store little facts about her. The faded x’s on the back of her hands, the sometimes stamps, the tattoos poking out from under her sleves the thick one over the mating mark on her neck, a rose- is that for tae? Can she smell taes scent from here? does she know that tae fell asleep tonight crying? Jimin’s drenched with the smell of her displeasure. Jimin did notice- the second he walked out- the flare of her nostrils. He doesn’t want to say it.

Good. He thought. She should know

We all miss you

They sit like that. Burning out one cigarette between the two of them, then another, then another before jimin speaks.

“Tae published another book”

“I know, I saw, I even bought the damn thing but-“

“it’s about you, you know”

“I know, I could tell from the damn cover” she takes another puff. “I’m not gonna read it.”

“her readers are eating it up, might even get made into a movie, you know how much teenage girls love starcrossed lovers and all that.”

The m/c would pause, looking jimin up and down, “I know”

another time the m/c offers him a cigarette and jimin says “I quit” and maybe it’s because he already looks guilty that has the m/c asking for more.

“why?”

And then he’d say slowly like he didn’t want to admit it, “jins pregnant again, you know what they say about second hand smoke.” And jimin would- feel not quite so vindicated about the brief look of betrayal across her face but- at least a bit soothed by it. At least she has emotions for them, at least she might want- “more for me then”

and jimin might try and reach up, might try and knock it out of her hand- but she flinches back from the touch, denying it.

Maybe they never touch, maybe that’s one of their rules. I bet she doesn’t come back for a good long while after that. And then one night, jimîn sees her - the back of her head catching the porch light, the distant coos of the new pup upstairs, namjoon’s voice soothing. He pauses looking at the back of her head. Waiting long enough that namjoon calls down the stairs soft “minnîe? Is there something on the porch?” And namjoon might be able to see jimjn from the top of the steps, sees the alpha school his expression neutral, aware that the m/c has turned at the sound of his voice and that she’s looking at jimin and-

And someone’s hurt her. Someone- it had to be someone. Her eyes is swollen, her lip is bloody. Jimin’s heart kicks up and his scent goes sour- upstairs the little pup starts to cry instead of coo, picking up on it.

But jimj schools his scent into something manageable says “it’s nothing hyung, just a stray” And jimin goes back upstairs to get namjoon a bottle but by the Time he gets back down she’s already gone.

There’s a bit of blood on the cushion though. And a note shoved under one of the cushions. Shoved inside a empty pack of cigarettes. “I thought you’d told them I was coming here.”

And when the m/c gets back to her apartment after a long night of work (as a bartender or maybe manager probably) she finds a note under the coffee pot in her kitchen, the edge sticking out.

‘Of course I didn’t tell, I’ll always keep your secrets’

[cupidsblonde]

so do i look like him?

after katsuki’s death, the only thing your parents can see in you is him

when you used to imagine giving a speech about your younger brother, you have imagined it everywhere but here.

maybe a wedding

at an award show  

anywhere but here.

“i remember when katsuki first got his quirk, we all knew he was destined for greatness… but he was ripped away from us to soon.” you say lip quivering.

“he will never be able to live out his dream. or live out the life that had so many great things ahead of him. ripped from the arms of his loved ones, from his greatness, from his determination.” voice breaking, tears falling down your face.

“tomura shigaraki, i promise that if i ever find you, you will be ripped from the hearts of the people motivated by you, just as you did my brother” you say staring straight into the broadcasting camera, which was showing your brothers funeral all across the world.

since he was a nation wide hero. but he never got to be the hero he wanted to be, rich, famous, doing what he loved. 

for he was famous. this just wasn’t how anyone imaged it.

 was this all he was going to be to the world? a dead kid, who had a dream of being a hero and died on his way there in a war he had no place fighting in? 

is that kid the only thing your parents will ever be able to see in you?

being the eldest was great, until katsuki was gone. 

incident one

 you where all sitting around the dinning table. katsuki’s spot next to your empty. nothing but his lingering smell of caramel, which was fading, and quickly. it was quite. you just wanted to eat, and go to sleep. 

you pick up your fork and go to put the food into your mouth, clamping your mouth around the fork and unbeknownst to you, the scratching food. 

you groan, grimace and catch your parents eyes. they’re both staring at you. like you did something wrong. you can see the tears welling in their eyes. your mom slams her fork down and gets up from the table 

“excuse me” she says in a hushed tone. you didn’t know what happened. you looked to your dad for an answer. 

“you just looked a lot like him right then” you dad almost whispers to you.

incident two

you missed katsuki a lot.

his grunts

his anger

his determination 

his want 

his excellency.

you and everyone in your house avoided his room like the plague. scared that if it was changed even a little bit, something would happen. 

but you just couldn’t take not even smelling his scent around the house anymore. you went into his room one day. 

16 years of coming into his room, annoying him, crying to him, watching movies with him. had come to end. you sat on the floor, sat in his bed, sat at his desk and you made your way to his closet. that’s where it smelt the most of him. aside from his bed, but even that was fading.

all you wanted to do was cry. there was no way he was coming back, you know that. right? 

you continue to go into his spaces. just hoping your going to find your younger brother there. watch him study maybe, even hope you would be able to hear him yell at you to “get the f out of my room”. 

but you would never get to have that’s again. 

this time it was your dad. 

you had said something that you picked up from katsuki and your dad froze where he stood. 

you could tell he had been cracking his shell he made when katsuki died. push everything down to hold the family together. so he needed to get away. he stopped what he was doing and went to he and your mothers room. 

“you just looked a lot like him, with that look on your face, saying that.” your mother quivered out to you. sobbing and choking at the end of her sentence.

incident three

you had been falling back into a place that katsuki an you both worked so hard to get you out of mentally. 

you where drinking again

back on drugs

it started slow. just how it always did. 

you had been clean for nearly 2 years. you obviously didn’t need your younger brother to keep you a normal ass person, who wasn’t drinking all the time, sleeping all the time, back on drugs.

bakugo katsuki, your younger brother, your best friend. was one of the only things that kept you on the earth. 

but now, it was your parents. not because you where happy all the time with them as you where with katsuki. 

but having to bury both of their children? you couldn’t do that to them. 

so you began getting sober again. the drugs stopped and the drinking stopped, you had been reminded that katsuki helped you out of that dark, dark place and if he saw you just fall right back into it as soon as he’s gone, he would be disappointed.

it was hard, because it wand ike he was gone on a trip. he was gone, for good.

this time, it was both of them. both of your parents. 

you grabbed any random hoodie one day, not even realizing it was your brothers. you came down the stairs and your parents where right in the view of the stairs, and stopped when you came down. 

you then realized. 

you wouldnt ever be your own person now. atleast not to your parents. 

you understood, their child was gone. and you reminded them of him. and that’s … hard.

not only for them but also for yourself.

this is the first time you started to catch on 

“do i look like him?” 

both of your parents nodded quickly, tears filling their eyes and they both walked away very quickly. 

of course you went to go change.

but that’s when you realized, 

his scent wasn’t on the hoodie anymore 

the more that you thought about it. his scent wasn’t anywhere around the house anymore, aside for his room, which was fading. 

incident four

you where going through an old photo album, you all missed katsuki in with all of your hearts. 

there where a bunch of pictures of katsuki but it started getting easier to look at them. easier to, accept.

but there was this one problem, this one picture. that had your mother sobbing, your dad with tears streaming down your face and you, your face plastered with an a thousand yard stare. your mouth fell open, you wanted to say something. 

anything, but you couldn’t. it felt like your vocal cords had been ripped out, your throat was burning. your eyes where being filled with tears. you closed the picture book slowly. 

you don’t remember much after that.

 all you feel right now is the pain in the balls of your feet from the heels your wearing, continusally having to pull your to short and to tight dress down and the feeling of your back side grinding up against a man that you meet at the bar merely a half hour ago.

“wanna get out of here ma?” the man who you didn’t even know who’s name.

next morning

you woke up next to this man, who you still didn’t know the name of. 

these type of nights continued on for weeks. 

you didn’t see your parents much, you where staying with your friends more and more and they are worried about you. they are always supportive, they understand what your going through. but they are worried.

and they had every reason to. especially tonight. 

when you didn’t come home, after you sobbed in mina’s arms are the first time. saying you wished it was you who was gone and not your brother. she was first your brothers friend, but she ended up being yours as well. 

you missed him, so so much. and you didn’t know how to handle it.

you had taken care of him for his whole life. being the eldest was hard. it was always hard. it was so much harder when the one thing keeping you going was now gone. 

you could see it in your parents eyes. the only thing in their eyes was sadness. so the only you could ask yourself now was 

“do i look like him?”

[thegeekproblem]

okay, so there's no way i can actually write this fic, it's maybe too angsty for me? i just know i've been dissociating hard just thinking about it so let's purge the idea of my head. everyone feel free to write this fic, just tag me so i can go and read it. and who knows, maybe i will write it if i feel like i can get my ideas in order.

ANYWAY (timeline? what timeline?)

jason todd, after gotham war, with an implant in his head that makes him feel fear every time his adrenaline spikes, can't live in gotham anymore. once the criminal world in gotham find out about it he's hunted down like an animal, his normal nightmares just wake him up to more nightmares, there's no escape, no place safe. he runs from gotham, from the country. he leaves everything behind to go underground, as far away as he can manage. he returns to the all caste to hide from the world and as a way to at least be safe inside his head he erases all of his memories. everything. there's no bruce, no joker, no sheila, no catherine, no willis.

bruce notices the red hood is gone. he tries to search for him but there's no trace of him, he's just gone. damian says that talia helped him leave but he doesn't know where he is or if he'll ever come back. every once in a while bruce tries to look for him to no avail. barbara has a notification for a face scan world wide, tim has alarms in case he ever returns to gotham. still, jason is gone and life goes back to normal.

years pass and the world is under attack of the untitled and they have no idea how to save it. talia appears telling them the only way it can be saved is working with the all caste, there's a seer inside the caste that has seen what's going to happen and she needs to take them there. talia takes bruce to the chambers of all, even when all she wants to do is see gotham burn.

they arrive and ducra is waiting for them. (ducra knows who bruce is, who he is to jason but it's no longer important, she doesn't tell bruce any of this) ducra takes them to the seer but warns them that he's not completely here, that his mind has lived in the past-present-future and everything that could-would-will happen that he's kinda gone, that he paid the price with his memories so it doesn't matter. bruce doesn't care because he only wants to save the world and has no attachment to this seer.

they go to the chamber of the seer.

it's jason.

god, imagine jason, no memories, frustrated with the world and what it did to him, angry and unable to do anything about it looking at bruce and being like: i'm disappointed. i always wondered what type of person would do this to me? what did i do to make someone hate me this much? but i see you're just a normal human man.

A/N: if i ever get what the plot of this fic is actually about instead of just, you know, jus angst porn, i will write it. i love making jason suffer, but i also love bruce suffering the consequences of his own actions, and amnesia fics are just my jam, i fucking love them! i don't know where everyone else is in this fic, maybe dick and damian go with bruce to the chambers of all while tim and barbara man the fort back in gotham and dick goes all angsty-brother-filled-with-guilt at seeing seer!jason. and maybe jason is still a stubborn pice of shit, he still gets angry even if he doesn't understand why, he still holds grudges even when he no longer has memories. maybe seer!jason knows what's supposed to happen and joins them in gotham. also, imagine seer!jason sacrificing himself for people he doesn't remember because he knows that's what's supposed to happen. also, is there anyway to add jaydick to this fic??? i just love them so much.

[nightmare--void]

Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind AU where Suguru erases Satoru from his memory and then Satoru does the same out of spite

But unlike in the movie they’re not meeting each other for the next ten years after that. Till one day someone leaks the files that were kept in the archive by the company that provides the service.

It’s been ten years already. Satoru touches an old ink on paper that forms a date like it's supposed to make everything feel more real. These memories are older than some of his students. He barely even remembers what kind of a person he was back then. All that’s left from his early twenties is a faint feeling of absence — as if he was missing a place that never existed.

Turns out it was a person.

«Do I just tell you everything I think about?» his own voice on the tape asks. «Anything? That’ll help to perform the procedure, right?»

He doesn’t remember this conversation.

He doesn't remember going to that clinic at all.

He goes through the tapes listening to himself — funnily familiar, — his words are almost petty sometimes.

«Suguru never wants to watch the movies I want,» the voice on the tape says. «He complains that I’m being repetitive. I’ve been watching a lot of new stuff lately, you know. I’ve watched ten new movies for the pas…»

His finger skips to another timestamp marked on the list.

«A Chinese restaurant».

«I asked him out that day. I wanted to go to that new Chinese place because I wanted us to feel like a couple again,» the voice says. «It's been a while since we went out together. Yeah, I've been busy, but he’s always in the wrong mood when it comes to anything I suggest. How is that my fault now?»

Does it still matter? That Chinese place he was talking about was closed eight years ago — redesigned to be a convenience store or something like that — now it probably belongs to some retail chain with all doors indistinguishable from one another. He’s moved two times since then.

And another one.

«He’s always sulky, you see. Even after sex lately. I can picture that… Ugh, I can picture that face he does. Right now, I can do it. And he always says he’s fine like I'm supposed to guess what might make him happy. And I never can. Can you get it erased first so that I don’t have to think about it anytime I close my eyes? Can you do it first?»

«This procedure is done in one go,» the doctor answers. «No particular order. Please, continue».

He does.

«He said I can’t change and he doesn’t want to force me. Well, I’m sorry I don’t like to let go of the things that I love. Is that worse than not being able to commit to anything even when it’s hard?»

«I hope he’d be happy if he knew I'm doing this. That's certainly a change, right?»

And another one.

«He never tells me anything», the voice on the tape says. «Not even when I ask. It’s like I know something’s not right but I can’t get an answer out of him. Or I can't formulate the right question, he'd like to answer. It fries my brain.»

«The other day he said we don’t see eye to eye anymore. Why can’t he just talk to me? Why couldn’t he talk to me till it was too late?»

And another.

«Is he punishing me for something I can’t understand?»

The room falls silent. Dead — haunted by the memories. Do they still belong to him or have they turned into ghosts by now? Separate beings with their own mind and will.

He caresses a postcard from Okinawa — unfamiliar handwriting and a ripped edge, he almost feels a salty wind on his tongue, — an old monster figurine, a plain white t-shirt that belonged to Suguru. And the pictures.

They’re so happy in all of them. But the voice on the tape keeps repeating.

«He got me eased. He got me fucking erased. He got me erased.»

Why the fuck did he do that?

Mad at the person he doesn’t even know. Like it’s the only thing that matters in the world right now. Like nothing's happened after that in his life. No new apartments, no new jobs, no new vacations, no new boyfriends.

He’s been through a few relationships in the past ten years but none hurt enough to even consider anything like that.

Because he never loved them.

Because he still loved someone else.

At least now he knows why his life felt empty when he woke up alone in that crammed apartment that somehow felt too big. And why it felt so lonely ever since.

He goes through the files — none of the records contain an address or a phone number. Or an answer to the question on his mind.

What if Suguru is happy with the procedure? What if the words — falling out of his own mouth out of spite — were true.

A call wakes him up on a Saturday morning.

«Hello, Satoru-u,» there’s a smile in that man’s voice he can hear. «I mean… Sorry if it’s too… Sorry. I don’t know if you’re a morning person or a night person.»

He gulps.

That’s him that’s him that is

thatisSuguruthatisSuguruthatisSuguruSuguru from the postcards who bought him figurines as a gift

Suguru who didn’t want to go to a place that doesn’t exist anymore

Suguru who didn’t want to tell him anything

who thought he can’t change or adjust to the changes — yet they’re both still caught

shit

SuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguruSuguru

it's him

«Uh, I got…» he coughs. «I went to bed late last night.»

«Did you get the files?»

«Yes, I…» he laughs. «We were a shitty couple, weren’t we?»

And then Suguru laughs too.

A laughs that feels like a first sound of thunder after the drought — like those memories are dried flowers everyone thought were dead till the rain came.

«You’re with anyone right now?�� Suguru asks.

«No,» answer’s too fast but he takes a pause before he says: «What about you?»

«No, not really. It’s not serious I guess.»

Satoru smirks.

«Not enough to get them erased from your memory, right?»

A joke doesn’t land as well as he expected. For a moment he almost believes Suguru’s going to hang up on him.

But still he continues.

«I don’t know…» he says. «I don’t know if I should apologise for something I can’t remember but I feel really sorry.»

«I don’t know if I can forgive something I can’t remember.»

Another pause.

Should he — if there’s nothing that holds these memories anymore. It’s like someone dug out a time capsule you hid under an oak tree when you were a child. All those names and events in your notes that were so important. Yet you don’t even remember half of the names.

It still hurts though.

«Yeah, I guess,» Suguru sighs. «I think there’s a bright side to it. We’re older now so we won’t repeat the same mistakes.»

«You think?»

«That's how it's supposed to be when you're getting mature.»

«Hm-m,» Satoru smiles. «I don't know about that actually. We're more experienced now. So we can always use that knowledge to make things worse.»

Sharing another laugh that’s warmer and more familiar like his brain is riddled with the scars that started itching all at once.

They used to laugh a lot, it strikes him.

They used to tease each other, they used to kiss and make love. He used to remember that person’s voice and face better than his own.

Why did he let go of that?

Why didn’t he let it heal and warm him? Because somehow he still knows that guy — he knows what'll make him laugh and he's sure they even talk similarly sometimes, using the same words and phrases.

Why did he let it go?

«Wanna meet?» Suguru asks.

«Do you?»

«Yeah. At least we’ll find out if we're the biggest idiots in the whole world or not.»

«I know I am,» Satoru nods as if they're in the same room and all of a sudden he realises that he doesn't want this conversation to end. «Besides, I think the company’s going to get sued after the incident. There're plenty of other idiots who would want some compensation from them. Which means we’re not getting another chance to chop our brains again. Do you think we can get some money though? I could use a new car. Or a fridge. Probably a vacuum cleaner would do. That's the mature stuff, right?»

A laugh that could belong to a couple of teens — head over heels in love — something he thought he never experienced.

Turns out he did.

And there’s still time.

[thebiggerbear]

This was my first Twilight character x reader story on here that I read and I cannot begin to tell you how pleased I am that I started with Emmett and with this work!!! This was beautifully written while also giving me all the angst and heartbreak and yearning feels experienced by Y/N. So well done!!!

The woods surrounding Forks were darker than you remembered. The dense canopy of evergreens blocked out most of the moonlight, leaving only thin beams to guide your path. Your breath came out in short bursts as you weaved through the trees, the familiar chill of the air biting at your skin. You knew this place like the back of your hand, and yet tonight, it felt different. Like the shadows themselves were warning you to turn back.

Love the description here. It immediately brought me right back to Forks and immersed me into the Twilight world. Very nicely done!!!

You’d told yourself a thousand times that you wouldn’t come back—that this part of your life was over. But staying away had proven impossible, and no matter how hard you tried to move on, something kept pulling you back to Forks. Back to him.

Oh my goodness, did I just let out a loud squeal? You're darn right I did!

The moment you stepped into the clearing, your heart stopped. He was there, standing as still as a statue, his broad shoulders tense and his dark eyes locked onto you. Emmett Cullen. The vampire who had stolen your heart—and then shattered it.

This is such a heart-stopping moment, though, to borrow your phrase. Seeing him in the moonlight, his eyes locked onto you, noting he's a vampire... You painted the picture so perfectly!

He let out a rough breath, his hands running through his dark curls, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable. Like the weight of everything he’d been carrying was finally too much. When his gaze finally met yours, there was no mistaking the anguish there. “I left,” he said, his voice quieter now, thick with emotion, “because I couldn’t control it anymore.” You frowned, confusion clouding your thoughts. “Control what?” Emmett’s expression darkened, and his fists clenched again. “The thirst,” he growled, like the word itself was painful. “Being around you… it was getting harder. You don’t know what it’s like, having to fight it every second. The scent of your blood—it’s overwhelming. And I couldn’t risk it anymore. I couldn’t risk you.”

I really do feel this is the conversation Edward should have also had with Bella in the books, too. At least Emmett is telling her and being honest with her here. And knowing Emmett's body count history, it's more than understandable why he left. He just straight up says it and I love it.

“You could’ve told me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “We could’ve figured it out together.” Emmett shook his head, his eyes filled with a sadness that seemed to age him by centuries. “No, we couldn’t. I’m a danger to you, and you don’t even realize it. Every day that I spent with you, I was fighting my nature. One slip, one mistake, and you’d be gone. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

Normally, I'd be frustrated with her like I get with Bella in New Moon (the whole saga quite frankly) whenever it comes to this harsh truth of a topic in a relationship between vampire and human in that world, but I can understand the reader's point here. And I appreciate that Emmett shuts it down, as much as it costs him to do so. (I also LOVE how you've taken Emmett's backstory and applied it here brilliantly btw!!!)

After what felt like an eternity, you stepped closer, close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You just looked up at him, your heart heavy. “I came back because I couldn’t let go of you,” you said softly. “But maybe… maybe it’s time I do.” Emmett’s eyes snapped open, wide with shock and pain, but he didn’t stop you as you turned away, your heart breaking with every step. He had left to protect you, but in the end, the danger wasn’t just in his nature. It was in the love that had consumed you both, the love that had torn you apart. And as you disappeared into the shadows of the forest, you realized that sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, you have to let them go.

Thank YOU. As much as this hurt and I hate to see Emmett in pain (he will always be one of my fave Cullens!), I am so glad to see a realistic reaction to the depth of the love between a human and a vampire in this world alongside to the danger the vampire actually represents. Don't get me wrong, I love the Cullens but it always bothered me that Bella refused to at least acknowledge that fact and fully process it no matter what anyone said to her, including Edward. Not until her own transformation anyway and other people like Charlie were at risk from her. So I am very glad to see this displayed here. And your writing is impeccable so like I said above, I am so glad I entered the Twilight x Reader reading territory with you as a guide to light my way and I started with one of your works!!! So well done!!! 😊💖💖

Letting You Go (Emmett Cullen)

Summary: You wanted to see Emmett again, but you realise it was a lost cause.

WC: 1kish

Warnings: Angst

Read on Ao3!

--

The woods surrounding Forks were darker than you remembered. The dense canopy of evergreens blocked out most of the moonlight, leaving only thin beams to guide your path. Your breath came out in short bursts as you weaved through the trees, the familiar chill of the air biting at your skin. You knew this place like the back of your hand, and yet tonight, it felt different. Like the shadows themselves were warning you to turn back.

But you couldn’t. Not when you had come this far.

You’d told yourself a thousand times that you wouldn’t come back—that this part of your life was over. But staying away had proven impossible, and no matter how hard you tried to move on, something kept pulling you back to Forks. Back to him.

The moment you stepped into the clearing, your heart stopped. He was there, standing as still as a statue, his broad shoulders tense and his dark eyes locked onto you. Emmett Cullen. The vampire who had stolen your heart—and then shattered it.

“You really shouldn’t come back here, you know.” His voice was low, rough around the edges, a far cry from the easy-going tone you used to love. “It’s not safe.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep walking toward him even though every instinct screamed for you to run. “I know,” you said softly, your voice barely carrying through the cold air. “But I had to see you.”

Emmett didn’t move. He stood there, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The distance between you felt like a canyon, even though it was only a few feet. He looked the same as he always did—strong, imposing, impossibly beautiful—but there was a hardness in his eyes now, a darkness that hadn’t been there before.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” he repeated, his voice sharper this time. “You’re putting yourself in danger.”

You took another step closer, ignoring the warning in his tone. “Why, Emmett? Why did you leave like that?” Your words cracked under the weight of the question you’d been carrying for so long. “I need to understand.”

For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his expression—regret, maybe, or pain—but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a cold detachment that made your heart ache.

“There’s nothing to understand,” he said flatly, his eyes hard. “I left because it was the only way to keep you safe.”

Safe. The word felt like a dagger in your chest. Safe from what? From him? The thought made you sick.

“You think leaving me out of nowhere was going to protect me?” you demanded, your voice rising with emotion. “You didn’t even say goodbye, Emmett. You just—vanished. I didn’t know if you were dead, or hurt, or if I’d done something wrong—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” he interrupted, his voice thunderous as it cut through the air, echoing in the clearing. His eyes flashed with something raw, something that broke through the icy exterior he’d been trying so hard to maintain. “This wasn’t about you.”

“Then what was it about?” you whispered, taking another step forward, desperate to close the distance between you. “Tell me, Emmett. Because I can’t move on without knowing why you left me.”

He let out a rough breath, his hands running through his dark curls, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable. Like the weight of everything he’d been carrying was finally too much. When his gaze finally met yours, there was no mistaking the anguish there.

“I left,” he said, his voice quieter now, thick with emotion, “because I couldn’t control it anymore.”

You frowned, confusion clouding your thoughts. “Control what?”

Emmett’s expression darkened, and his fists clenched again. “The thirst,” he growled, like the word itself was painful. “Being around you… it was getting harder. You don’t know what it’s like, having to fight it every second. The scent of your blood—it’s overwhelming. And I couldn’t risk it anymore. I couldn’t risk you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The realization hit you like a freight train. He had left because he was afraid of hurting you. But that didn’t stop the pain from gnawing at your heart.

“You could’ve told me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “We could’ve figured it out together.”

Emmett shook his head, his eyes filled with a sadness that seemed to age him by centuries. “No, we couldn’t. I’m a danger to you, and you don’t even realize it. Every day that I spent with you, I was fighting my nature. One slip, one mistake, and you’d be gone. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

Your heart shattered at his words. The depth of his fear, his self-loathing, was laid bare before you, but it didn’t change the fact that he had left you in the dark. That he had ripped your heart out without a second thought.

“You leaving already hurt me, Emmett,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “It hurt more than anything you could’ve done. You thought you were protecting me, but you broke me instead.”

He flinched, and for the first time, you saw him break too. His shoulders sagged, and his eyes squeezed shut as if he couldn’t bear to look at you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The man you loved was standing right in front of you, but it felt like there was a wall between you, one that couldn’t be torn down by apologies or explanations.

After what felt like an eternity, you stepped closer, close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You just looked up at him, your heart heavy.

“I came back because I couldn’t let go of you,” you said softly. “But maybe… maybe it’s time I do.”

Emmett’s eyes snapped open, wide with shock and pain, but he didn’t stop you as you turned away, your heart breaking with every step.

He had left to protect you, but in the end, the danger wasn’t just in his nature. It was in the love that had consumed you both, the love that had torn you apart.

And as you disappeared into the shadows of the forest, you realized that sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, you have to let them go.

[kissmenkillmen]

⎯ ♥︎⚔️ ， wordcount. 3,531 . . . ⎯ ♥︎⚔️ ， genre. angst, hurt/comfort. ⎯ ♥︎⚔️ ， summary. yuta JJK 0 but he went to Geto's side. ⎯ ♥︎⚔️ ， 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒 note. I'm fucking broken. I don't want to write anymore. ⎯ ♥︎⚔️ ， f!reader x yuta okkotsu. conflicted emotions, loyalty vs. love, heartbreak, mutual yearning, bittersweet longing, unresolved feelings.

Watching the person you loved most become someone unrecognizable was agonizing. It was a pain you couldn't put into words-sharp, relentless, and unbearable.

You had to watch him cross the line. Watch him turn his back on your side to join theirs. Watch him descend into the role of a killer, his hands stained with blood. Watch him fall under the enemy's manipulation.

Months passed in torment-missing him, loving him, yearning for him. Always from a distance. Always in vain.

"Do it. Kill me." Your voice trembled as you lay on the cold, unforgiving ground. Blood seeped into the dirt around you, your body battered and broken. But the ache in your chest was far worse. His katana hovered dangerously close to your throat.

The boy you had once known, the one who had held you so tenderly, was gone. In his place stood a man who had chosen to fight alongside Geto, declaring war on the Jujutsu Sorcerers.

And now, here he was, poised to take your life.

This this moment was the most excruciating of all.

Yuta felt his hands trembling. It all felt so surreal, having to kill his former ally—the one he had spent so much time protecting and cherishing. One of his best friends. He couldn't believe the same person would become this.

Hearing your voice, he froze, feeling his heart break again as he looked down at you. He felt his resolve waver, his hand shaking. You were the love of his life, after all. He wanted to go with you. He wanted to return to those days of normalcy, where he could hold you without a care in the world. But he couldn't.

Yuta stared down at you. He still remembered how it felt to hold your hands in his. Your hands were so soft and small, while his were rough and large. But they fit perfectly together.

When your hands intertwined, he felt like he was where he was supposed to be. Safe, secure, happy. It felt so right. So warm, so comforting. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he remembered it all—how your hands felt, how your body felt, how your lips felt against his.

"I'm sorry. I-I have to do this."

Yuta stared down at you, his mind screaming at him. This is wrong. Go to her. Don't kill her. Don't continue hurting her. Let go of your katana and hold her in your arms again. Let go of the damn katana.

His heart ached at the thought of having to hurt you. He clenched his teeth, trying to will away the pain that spread in his chest.

His eyes were glossy as he stared down at the girl he used to hold so close.

He remembered the nights you spent together—laughing, whispering, loving. He remembered your smile, your laugh, the way you would cling to him. He could still hear your soft voice in his head, your words still vivid in memory. He could still feel your small hands holding his. Your head leaning against his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his waist. His hands running through your soft hair.

He tried to imagine the future the two of you could have had if he ran away with you, away from all of this.

You would be together, in a house somewhere. Just him and you. Every night would be spent holding you close, every morning he would wake to your sleeping figure beside him. Every moment would be spent loving you. He would get to see your smile every day. You would be his.

But it was only a daydream. A wish in the back of his mind. He could never have that future again, no matter how badly he wanted it. You would never look his way again, and you could never be together.

He would never hold you again, never kiss you again, never feel the touch of your hands against his skin. You would never look up at him again with adoring eyes, you would never again hold his hand and kiss his cheek.

Never. Again.

He tried to keep his expression stoic, but it was difficult. He felt his eyes begin to sting. His chest felt like it was being ripped apart. He wasn't sure if it was his own resolve wavering or if it was his heart cracking from the inside out.

A tear welled up in his eye, but he did nothing to wipe it away. He remained silent, frozen. His mind was all over the place, confused and conflicted. He wanted to run to you, hold you, beg for your forgiveness, and run away to be with you. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't run again.

He stared down at you longer, feeling his heart ache more the longer he looked at you. You looked worse off than when you first met. You were wounded, your clothes stained with blood. It killed him even more.

It pained him to see you like this. How badly he wanted to go to you, to help you, to pull you into his arms and hold onto you. For you to be safe, away from all the chaos around him.

He felt a tear roll down his cheek, trying to fight back the lump in his throat. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping his katana. His eyes were glossy, his mind filled with memories.

Every second he didn't kill you was a second the two of you could be together. But he couldn't. He had to stay focused. He had to stay loyal to his mentor. He could not waver.

He had to remind himself that his loyalty to Geto was his priority now. His mentor always took care of him. Now he had to return the favor. His mind was trying to convince him, to convince his heart that Geto would take care of him now. Geto took him in when he had no one. Now it was his turn to help him.

No matter how much it hurt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice trembling. He wanted to reach out to you. To gently touch you. To hold your face in his hands one last time. To run his fingers through your hair. He wanted to, so badly. His chest felt unbearably tight, the ache in his chest growing more painful the longer he held back.

His heart was telling him to go to you, to apologize, to hold you in his arms again and tell you everything would be alright. But he couldn't. He had other responsibilities to tend to first. He couldn't be selfish. He had to follow the path Geto set for him.

His resolve weakened even more, the sight of you so vulnerable in front of him. You were the only person in his life that he truly cherished, and he had to sacrifice all of it.

He couldn't let his selfish desires consume him. He needed to stay focused. He had to ignore his emotions.

He didn't want to continue hurting you. It was the last thing he wanted. But he had no choice. He had been given this assignment. He had to follow the path laid out before him. His mentor knew what was best.

His trembling hands tightened even more against his katana. He could feel his body wavering, his legs shaking. He wanted to fall to his knees as he looked down at you. His mind screamed for him to go to you, to apologize, to hold you. Even if for the last time.

But he had to ignore it. His mentor knew best.

He could feel his heart breaking, knowing this would be the last time the two of you would see each other like this. This would be the last memory you had of him. You wouldn't see him again.

He wouldn't get to see you again. He wouldn't hold you again. He wouldn't kiss you again. He wouldn't hear your voice call his name.

This needed to be done. Even if it broke his heart. Even if he knew he would never recover from it. It had to be done. He couldn't waver. Not now.

His hands were trembling, the katana almost threatening to slip from his grasp. He tried to calm his breathing, trying to regain control of his body.

His head was screaming at him to stop. His heart was telling him to hug you. But his mind was convincing him that this had to be done. Geto always knew what was best.

He couldn't look away from you. He could see the pain in your eyes, the sadness. It hurt him even more. You were always so sweet. You always seemed so happy. You didn't deserve to feel like this. You never had anything but light in your soul.

And there you were, lying at his feet, hurting because of him. It made his heart ache so badly with guilt.

He clenched his teeth, trying to fight back the pain he felt in his chest. His heart was aching. This felt so wrong. This wasn't what he wanted. He just wanted to hold you in his arms one last time. He wanted you safe in his arms. He wanted it to be okay. For you to be okay.

His heart was screaming in pain again. Looking down at you, his lover, now hurt and bloodied. He was the one responsible. His mind kept reminding him what was at stake. He couldn't stop the tears that were building up in his eyes.

"S... Sorry," he whispered. But his words were barely audible.

He couldn't even bring himself to say it loud enough for you to hear. You wouldn't be hearing anything from him again. He wouldn't speak to you again. He wasn't even worthy of calling you by the pet name he used for you ever again. He didn't deserve to say it again.

"I... I'm sorry," Yuta whispered, loud enough for you to hear him this time.

He couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks. He felt his chest ache. He felt his heart break. How badly he wanted to drop his katana and pull you into his arms. For you to hold onto his shirt tightly again. To feel your soft hands against him.

He wanted to apologize to you for all the hurt he caused. Even though he knew an apology wasn't enough.

He let out a shaky breath, feeling the tears fall down his cheeks. His chest felt heavy, his heart in so much pain. He couldn't even look at you anymore, so he clenched his eyes shut.

His grip on the katana faltered for a moment as his mind battled with itself. He could hear the faint sound of your breathing, shallow and strained. Each breath you took felt like a dagger to his chest.

What was he doing? How could he be the one to bring you to this state?

He opened his eyes reluctantly, his vision blurred by the tears he couldn't stop. You were still there, broken, bleeding, and looking up at him with an expression that tore him apart. You weren't pleading, you weren't even angry. You just looked... resigned.

That was the worst part. The acceptance in your eyes, as if you had already forgiven him for what he was about to do.

"Why aren't you fighting back?" His voice cracked, trembling as he tried to sound stronger than he felt. He wanted to hear you yell at him, curse him, anything but this painful silence.

But you didn't answer. Maybe you were too weak, too hurt. Or maybe you knew the truth—that nothing you could say would change his course.

Yuta's legs finally gave out beneath him, and he sank to his knees beside you, his katana clattering to the ground. He couldn't do it. He couldn't go through with this.

"I'm so sorry," he choked out, his hands trembling as he reached toward you but stopped short of touching your face. He didn't deserve to hold you, to comfort you. Not after what he'd done.

His tears fell freely now, dripping onto the blood-stained ground between you. He hated himself. He hated what he'd become. He hated the person he'd turned into under Geto's guidance.

"You... you deserved so much better than this," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

For a moment, he thought about taking you away from all of this. Throwing everything aside—Geto, the sorcerers, the war—and disappearing with you. Living a life where none of this pain existed, where the only thing that mattered was the love you shared.

But even that dream felt selfish. He knew there was no escaping the choices he'd already made.

"I don't know how to fix this," he admitted, his voice breaking. "I don't even know if I can."

Yuta clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought against the sobs threatening to overtake him. He hated how weak he felt in this moment, how powerless he was to undo the damage he'd caused.

All he could do was sit there, helpless, as the weight of his decisions crushed him.

You stirred slightly, your voice faint but steady. "Yuta..."

He froze, his eyes locking onto yours as he waited for you to continue.

"Just... end it," you whispered, your words cutting through him like a blade.

His chest tightened, and his breath hitched. How could you say that? How could you ask him to do the very thing he feared most?

"No," he said firmly, shaking his head as if the motion alone could banish the thought. "I won't. I can't."

You managed a faint, broken smile, the kind that held no happiness, only pain. "Then what will you do?"

Yuta had no answer. For the first time in his life, he truly had no idea what to do. The only thing he knew for certain was that he couldn't hurt you any more than he already had.

So, he did the only thing he could. He lowered his head, pressing his forehead to the ground beside you, his tears soaking into the dirt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice barely audible. "I'm so, so sorry."

Your breathing was ragged, each shallow inhale punctuating the silence between you. Yuta didn't dare move, his forehead still pressed to the ground, his body trembling with the weight of everything he'd done.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to protect you, to love you, to shield you from pain—not become the source of it.

"Yuta..." Your voice came again, faint and unsteady, but he heard it clearly, as if it were the only sound in the world. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his head to look at you.

Tears streaked his face, his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came. All he could do was stare, memorizing every detail of your face, even in its pain and exhaustion.

You gave him a look he couldn't decipher—soft, but heavy with meaning. "It's okay," you said weakly, your voice almost drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears.

He shook his head violently. "No, it's not," he whispered, his voice hoarse and raw. "Nothing about this is okay. I... I can't..."

You blinked slowly, your eyelids heavy, but your gaze never wavered from him. "You have to make a choice," you murmured. "This can't go on forever, Yuta. It hurts too much..."

The lump in his throat grew unbearable. He wanted to scream, to tear apart the universe that had brought him to this moment. The world demanded a choice from him, but every option was soaked in agony.

"I can’t lose you," he said, his voice cracking. "Not like this."

A bitter smile crossed your lips. "You already have."

The words shattered him. His hands dug into the dirt beneath him, trembling as the full weight of reality bore down on him. You were right. He'd lost you the moment he picked up his katana, the moment he chose his path.

But still, he couldn't bring himself to finish what he'd started. His katana lay forgotten on the ground, inches from his grasp, and yet it felt like an unbreachable chasm separated him from it.

"I don’t care what happens to me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If I walk away from all of this, if Geto finds out—none of it matters if you’re alive. If you’re safe."

You stared at him, the pain in your eyes momentarily replaced by something softer. Hope? Pity? He couldn't tell.

"Yuta..."

He leaned forward, finally closing the distance between you. His hands hovered over you, unsure if he had the right to touch you after everything he'd done. But in that moment, he didn't care. Gently, he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cold, clammy skin.

"You’re all I have left," he said, his tears falling freely now. "I don’t care what it takes. I’ll protect you, even if it costs me everything. Even if..."

He trailed off, his words catching in his throat. Even if you never forgave him. Even if he couldn’t undo the damage. Even if he had to fight the entire world to keep you safe.

You didn’t respond. Maybe you didn’t have the strength. Maybe you didn’t believe him. But you didn’t pull away from his touch, and for Yuta, that was enough.

"I’ll make this right," he promised, his voice steady despite the tears. "I swear to you, I’ll make this right."

The storm in his heart hadn’t subsided—it raged on, wild and relentless. But for the first time, Yuta felt a glimmer of clarity. A purpose. A path forward.

One that didn’t involve losing you. One where he fought not for Geto, not for himself, but for you.

Whatever it took, whatever the cost, Yuta would find a way. Even if it meant defying everything he once believed in. Even if it meant becoming someone he no longer recognized.

Because the thought of a world without you in it was a fate worse than death.

Yuta's breathing grew shallow as he held you, his trembling hands supporting your weight. Your skin felt colder than it should, a grim reminder of how close he had brought you to the edge. His resolve, so deeply rooted in loyalty and obligation, was now splintered into fragments, replaced by a desperate, singular need—to save you.

He looked at you, his heart breaking at the sight of your pale face and the weakness in your gaze. You weren’t supposed to look like this. You were supposed to shine, to smile. The light he adored so much, the warmth you carried with you, was slipping through his fingers like sand.

"I’ll get you help," he said, his voice breaking, though he didn’t know how much of that promise was for you and how much was to convince himself. "I swear—I’ll fix this. I’ll find a way."

You blinked slowly, each motion labored, but your eyes remained locked on his. “Yuta...” you whispered, voice faint and fragile. It wasn’t the anger he expected. It wasn’t even disappointment. It was sorrow, deeper than anything he could understand.

“You’re hurting yourself,” you murmured, your words a soft tremor against the silence. “You’re breaking yourself for something... you don’t even believe in anymore.”

His breath hitched, your words hitting him like a blade to the chest. You were right. You always had been. But what could he say? How could he admit that he'd betrayed everything he once believed in, that he had been too weak to stand against Geto’s will?

He clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “That doesn’t matter now,” he said, though his voice shook with uncertainty. “You’re all that matters. I’ll leave it all behind—I’ll leave him behind. I’ll find a way to make this right.”

Your lips curved into the faintest of smiles, though it was bittersweet. “It’s not that easy,” you said, your voice barely audible. “They’ll come for you, Yuta. They’ll come for both of us.”

“Let them.” The words came out fierce, sharper than he intended. His eyes burned with unshed tears, but there was steel in his voice now, a determination that hadn’t been there before. “I don’t care what happens to me. As long as you’re alive, as long as you’re safe—I’ll fight them all. I’ll fight anyone who tries to hurt you again.”

Your expression softened, but the pain in your eyes remained. You raised a trembling hand to his face, your fingers brushing against his damp cheek. “You can’t save me,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your own cheek. “Not if you’re broken too.”

Yuta froze, the weight of your words crashing down on him. You were right, but the truth was unbearable. He didn’t know how to save you without losing himself in the process. He didn’t even know if he could save you at all.

But as he held you in his arms, as he felt the fragile rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest, he made a vow.

Even if it cost him everything, even if it meant facing Geto’s wrath, even if it meant tearing himself apart—he would fight.

For you.

For the future you deserved.

For the chance to see you smile again, even if it was the last thing he ever saw.

“I’m not losing you,” he said, his voice steady now, his grip on you tightening as if to anchor himself. “Not today. Not ever.”

And as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Yuta stood, his katana forgotten on the ground, his heart set on the impossible.

Because for you, the impossible was worth it.

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