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lukehughes43 · 9 months

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dial drunk

trevor zegras x reader based and inspired by the song "dial drunk" by noah kahan.

warnings: drinking, angst, lots of angst, swearing, a few mentions of sex word count: 17,332 i'm sorry😭

“hey y/n/n, it’s uh, it’s trevor.”

his words were slurred together into one big drunken mess which trevor always turned into when he was home in bedford at the same time as you. despite everything telling you to delete the message right then and there, you kept listening, feeling as if there was something you needed to hear from his drunken ramblings.

“fuck i don’t even know why i’m calling you,” his laugh had a melancholy feeling to it, “i just remembered i promised to forget you, doya remember that, y/n/n?”

of course, you remembered. you were the one who made him promise to forget all about you after your less-than-clean break-up nearly three years ago now. thinking that it would be best for both of you and selfishly more so better for yourself.

“but i broke that promise, just like i broke so many other promises, right y/n/n?” there was a painful silence as it seemed as if he was waiting for you to answer him. only it was a voicemail, and you were never going to answer him. “wrong.” it was a hissed out slur. one that caused your heart that was finally taped together to slowly unravel. “i never broke any promises to you, y/n, well except this one.”

trevor let out a sigh, “i uh, i’m only making this fucking call because i have to tell you something. because i called you two nights ago. you hung up on me. you didn’t call me back.” he was hiccuping between words, whether it was because he was drunk or on the verge of having a breakdown was unclear to you. “i don’t like it, that they called you. that even after all this time i’m still so fucking in love with you i gave them your name y/n. your name. in a city full of my family and friends, but i said your name.” that’s when the tears fell.

for both of you.

you listened to him fall apart from the safety of your childhood bedroom that still had pictures of trevor and you lingering around it. hands tugging at the loose thread of your duvet as his sobs rang throughout your ears like your dial tone did when he tried calling you last night - surprised that he managed to hear your honey-sweet voice on your voicemail outgoing.

“i just wanted you to know that - that i don’t like that i gave them your name as my emergency phone call as they threw me in the cop car.” there was a long sigh before a forced laugh fell from his lips, “and one more thing, the cops? yeah, all of them thought you were wrong for hanging up on me.”

there was another beat of silence and you knew it was because he was contemplating what to say next. if he even wanted to say something, or just hang up on you, your voicemail, like you had him two nights ago when he was hurt and needed you.

he let out another shaky breath before he contiuned speaking, sending you into a crippling mess. “i dial your number drunk, y/n. honestly, at this point i’ll probably die a drunk, but that doesn’t change the fact that i would still die for you.”

and just like that, the message was over. trevor’s normally smooth voice was gone, the only thing to be heard was the sound of the rain falling against the glass of your window and your heart shattering in the pit of your stomach once more.

----

being back in bedford was normally exactly what trevor needed to rest from the demanding schedule of the nhl. normally being the keyword in that sentence. bedford had lost its calming effect on trevor the moment you had broken up almost three years ago. now he only had a sense of calm in his hometown when you were stuck away in boston because of school. what happened when you were in bedford at the same time? trevor turned into a drunken mess, days blurring together and not in a good way, praying that the alcohol would help suppress his feelings if he were to run into you. hoping that it would help him forget you like he had promised that night you stood across from each other in the cold new york air.

only it never did, despite how hard he tried.

meaning the time trevor spent in bedford grew shorter and shorter each time he came to visit his family. reaching the point where he spent the entire summer split between the hughes lake house, and jack and quinn’s shared home in michigan last year just to get away from the pain you still caused him.

pain caused based on the fact you refused to love him anymore, and he still wasn’t sure why.

trevor and you had been together for four years before you decided to break up with him before he left for world juniors in the winter of 2020 (in which he went on to win mvp and a gold medal). you were crazy about each other and had been since you first met. your relationship had made it through two different long-distance periods, was going to make it through a third before you ended it, and everyone was convinced you were going to get married. that’s why you ending it blindsided him as much as did. sent him into such a spiral that he had no choice but to take out his emotions during the world juniors tournament and walk away the highest-scoring american since jeremy roenick.

after winning gold and heading back to san diego he was fine. at least that’s what he told everyone - including himself. in reality, he was drowning every night in his tears and not drinking alcohol, yet. the drinking started that summer.

he was out to eat with his family on the main stretch of roads that ran right through bedford. his world stopped as he watched you walk across the street, laughing along to something your best friend gracie had said. the wind was taken right from his chest as his green eyes stared at you, willing you to look over at him, to see him, to will him back to breathing. only you didn’t even turn your head in his direction, instead ducking inside the little coffee shop and sitting at a table full of friends he recognized from your grad party.

that was the first time he had seen you since you broke his heart into a million different pieces, and it was the first time he felt the need to drink himself to sleep while in the same city as you. each time he’d seen you since then had gotten more complex and harder for him. causing him to keep reaching for whatever bottle he could get his hands on once he was safe from the curse of you.

leading up all to this moment in time. june seventh, two thousand and twenty-three.

his hand was shaking as he reached for his phone, throat dry despite the empty corona bottle that rested in the cup holder of his plastic chair. your contact was taunting him, your e/c eyes staring back at him from the picture he had never changed. your entire contact in his iphone remained as it did three years ago, “y/n/n<3” right in the middle of the screen, and the picture of you hoisted up on his back at the draft staring back at him right above it.

there wasn’t a chance for him to even think about what he was doing, not that he could because he was far from sober after all, the dial tone was filling his ears. as trevor sat and waited for you to pick up the phone it felt as if the entire world was on the verge of falling apart around him. he thought it was about to end completely when the dial tone finally came to an end, only instead a recording of your voice filled his ears:

“hey, it’s y/n! sorry i missed your call, i’ll call you back as soon as i can. until then, smile at a stranger and make their day. bye!”

the twenty-two-year-old had to choke back a sob at the sound of your voice for the second time in three years. he’d never made it this far before, to your voicemail, normally he hung up after the second ring of the dial tone. that was until two nights ago when he called you from the police station after the ride in the back of the cop car. now he was struggling with what he wanted to say to you in the first place, the drunk thoughts overpowering his sober thoughts that he was originally called to try and say.

“hey y/n/n, it’s uh, it’s trevor,” he began. silently praying the slur in his words wasn’t as noticeable through the phone as if you were going to be sitting here next to him. “fuck, i don’t even know why i’m calling you.” a heartbreaking laugh fell passed his lips, hand running through his rain-soaked hair. “i just remembered i promised to forget you, doya remember that, y/n/n?”

while he thought he could get away with slurring in his opening sentence he knew you’d hear the slurring of his words in that line, practically able to smell the alcohol through the phone that he reeked. light beer and fresh rainwater were the new scents trevor zegras was sporting, his favorite when he was stuck in his thoughts about you. thoughts like why you even asked him to promise you something like that, how was he supposed to forget you? he’d been in love with you for four years before you broke things off, you can’t just force yourself out of love.

shaking his head he pulled himself out of his drunken thoughts to get back to the task at hand, “but i broke that promise, just like i broke so many other promises, right y/n/n?” licking his lips trevor stayed silent, wanting for a response. for your voice to cut through the patter of raindrops on the hardwood beneath his bare feet. wait for you to exclaim ‘you never broke your promise, trevor john’ only there was no answer. there would never be an answer so he hissed out, “wrong. i never broke any promises to you, y/n, well expect this one.” sighing he fell back into his chair, reaching down into the cooler next to his chair, and pulled out another beer. “i uh, i’m only making this fucking call because i have to tell you something.” he popped the cap of the corona off before speaking again. “because i called you, two nights ago.” drink. “you hung up on me.” drink. “you didn’t call me back.” drink. “i don’t like it, that they called you. that even after all this time i’m still so fucking in love with you i gave them your name, y/n. your name. in a city full of my family and friends, but i said your name.” tears began to carve a path down his tanned cheeks, mixing with the rain drops as they both fell in a perfect rhythm together.

his sobs subsided just enough to get out the right of his message. “i just wanted you to know that - that i don’t like that i gave them your name as my emergency phone call as they threw me in the cop car.” a mix between a deep sigh and a laugh-filled the dark backyard before he left his final blow: “and one more thing, the cops? yeah, all of them thought you were wrong for hanging up on me.”

trevor fought with himself, trying to decide if he was worth telling you. worth allowing himself to turn into the charming young man you once knew, and for a split second, what remained of his former self had shown through and he let out the confession he was terrified to hear, and more terrified of what you would do once you’d listen to his voicemail. if you even did listen to his voicemail.

“i dial your number drunk, y/n.” tears fell down his cheeks as he allowed the self pity to wash over him. as he finally accepted the fact he was the villain in what was a once a famed love story. “honestly, at this point i’ll probably die a drunk, but that doesn’t change the fact that i would still die for you.”

he hit the red circle so quickly that he almost cut off his final word, but he didn’t care. because now he was stuck thinking about how his downward spiral caused by you breaking up with him three years ago had hit its rock bottom two nights ago. all because he started throwing drunk punches to defend the honor of somebody he didn’t even know anymore.

----

june fifth, two thousand and twenty-three. while to many others it was just a normal monday night at the start of summer, to you and trevor, june fifth was the biggest turning point in your no longer-existent relationship - yet neither of you knew it.

while you were in your room getting ready for a date - only the second one you’d gone on since breaking up with trevor - your former lover was busy writing down a list of food needed from the grocery store. as you finished applying your lipstick (trevor’s favorite shade on you no less) he was across town throwing reusable bags into the back of his bronco.

there were butterflies in your stomach as you walked downstairs to sit and wait in your living room. since trevor, this was the first time you had genuinely felt nervous over a guy. granted it was only the second date you had gone on in close to three years you still had hooked up with a couple at parties but none of them made you feel anything and left you thinking about trevor as you waited to make your escape once they’d fallen asleep.

trevor on the other hand couldn’t keep a girl even if he wanted to. how could he when every girl he spent time with he compared directly to you - the love of his life? occasionally he’d find himself stumbling around a random girl from the bar’s apartment, but it never lasted. no matter how good the sex was, or wasn’t, he was never completely satisfied. his mind stuck thousands of miles away with you.

your date, charlie, was over ten minutes late the next time you glanced at your phone and the butterflies in your stomach had slowly started to die. sighing you slouched back against your coach while trying to ignore the watchful eyes of your parents. both who were still pro-trevor, and made it known to you how much damage you had caused the ‘sweet boy’ whenever they had a chance. not that you could blame them though, you knew how much you hurt him. you just knew staying with him would hurt you even worse.

the star ducks player was right on schedule as he began his trek across bedford to the grocery store. waving as he drove past charlie henderson, an old friend from elementary school, having no idea that he was on his way to pick you up for a date. the blond waved back almost instantly, smiling two times as wide for two different reasons. the first being he was on his way to your house and not trevor, something he would have never dreamed of in a million years. the second was because it was trevor fucking zegras waving at him, and to be honest, he was surprised trevor even remembered he existed.

by the time charlie pulled into your half-circle driveway, he was a total of twenty minutes late. not to mention that when he arrived he didn’t run up to the door and eagerly knock with a bright smile on his face. instead, he chose a more twenty-first-century approach with a ‘here’ text message on snapchat. what remained of the butterflies you once had in your stomach had officially died with that. sighing you pushed yourself off the couch and walked towards the entryway, “um charlie’s here so i’m gonna go. i’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

a disappointed look painted your mother’s face, while your father began to shake his head. muttering something into your mother’s ear so you didn’t overhear him. however, as you walked out the door you did hear the comment your mother threw out, “trevor never showed up late. he always came to the door.” her words were sharp and cut deep into your heart. suddenly something that seemed to be going so well was going so terribly wrong.

it was pure luck, rather an unfortunate circumstance, that as trevor was walking out of the grocery store as you and charlie were stuck at the red right in front of the store’s parking lot. even hundreds of yards away trevor could make out your h/c curled as your head rested against the window. in an instant, trevor’s semi-decent mood had shifted to one of pure heart-shattering agony. had he been thinking straight he would’ve remembered you only leaned your head against the car window when you wanted to go, only he was currently thinking of the closest bar as the ten minutes drive back home seemed too far of a wait for him.

you saw him as soon as charlie rolled the car to a stop. he hadn’t seen you yet, head tucked down looking at the blacktop and his rainbow flip-flops. until by some stroke of luck, perhaps unfortunate circumstances, he looked up and saw you. his green eyes tripled in size as he stared at you and you knew it was because you were in the car with a guy who wasn’t him. your knees were already pointed towards the car door, only now they were touching the plastic interior. this had to have been a sign - seeing trevor. you wanted to curl up into yourself as you waited for what seemed like forever at this light. praying that trevor couldn’t see the way you were staring right back at him, longing to be stuck at this red light with him instead of charlie, yet you wouldn’t admit that to anybody but yourself.

as the light turned green three things happened to three different people.

trevor dropped his reusable bags full of groceries and ran to his car. desperate to drown his pain with the company of the strangers who filled his hometown.

y/n watched with a subtle pang in her chest, feeling as if she broke his heart all over again. tears pricked her waterline as she drove away from the scene with a man she no longer wanted to be with.

and charlie continued to ramble aimlessly on about how he is the president of a frat at u-maine. completely obviously to the hurt, the two former lovers were going through. instead when he caught the sight of the bright yellowish-orange bronco he cut his ramblings off to say, “hey! i saw trevor on my way to pick you up. ya know, he even waved to me. i had no idea he still knew who i was. i mean he’s a bigshot nhl player now. probably pulling instagram models - girls that are way out of his league. then again he probably learned how to do that from you, right y/n/n?”

a shaky breath left your mouth as you turned away from the window for the first time since you got in the car. “excuse me?” you huffed, arms crossing over your chest as your eyes narrowed at him. “are you implying trevor’s out of my league, charlie?”

with a fight breaking out on a first date in the silver honda accord, an internal war was raging in the confines of the yellow bronco. with heaving breaths trevor began to pull at his hair. “she’s on a date. y/n’s on a date with charlie henderson? there’s- there’s.” his words were cut off as he began to slam his hands down against the steering wheel. trying to prevent the tears that were collecting on his lashes from falling. “fuck!” he screamed, voice rattling the glass of his windows as he did so.

“what?! no! no-” sighing charlie shrugged his shoulders while barely glancing over at you. “i mean yeah, everyone thought so, y/n. it was only a matter of time until he broke up with you, so when news traveled back that you broke up with him. nobody believed it. i mean come on y/n/n, trevor was always going to end up in the nhl, and you’re what, going to be a kid’s doctor? yeah i dunno, like i said it was only a matter of time.”

trevor clenched his fist before he reached forward with shaking hands to his steering wheel. starting the car and backing out as fast as he could. making sure he went in the complete opposite direction of the silver honda that you sat in, not able to bear it if he saw the two of you at the bar while he tried to drink his pain away.

the tears fell faster than you could stop them as you stared over at him in awe. he had managed to hit every single one of your insecurities from dating trevor right on the head, and threw them back in your face like you were nothing. with trevor splitting time between the gulls in san diego and the ducks in anaheim a war had begun to grow between your head and your heart. thinking about how he could spend all of his free time with a new instagram model every night, but you knew he wouldn’t do that. not when the both of you had talked about marriage and starting a family for hours on end. only as time went on, and the bigger trevor started to get, you felt as if you were slowly falling into the shadows of his life. then there was the fact you felt as if your career wasn’t enough for him, or for your future. self-doubt was a powerful demon, working its magic to make you believe as soon as trevor was a full-time nhl player he would force you to abandon your studies for your future career and turn into a full-time nhl girlfriend who sat there and looked pretty. so by thanksgiving you had made up your mind to end things with the then nineteen-year-old. forcing yourself to slowly fall out of love with him. something you were still forcing yourself to do even after all this time.

as soon as trevor pulled into the little dive bar a couple miles outside of town he was reaching for his phone. he scrolled through his messages for the one person who wouldn’t ask him any questions as to why he disappeared and never returned with the groceries. double clicking on the picture of his brother and him from a wrestling meet - three years ago in december - he typed out a frantic message before turning his phone off and walking into the bar:

something came up. couldn’t get the groceries home. they’re laying in the middle of the parking lotor i’ll venmo you $200 and you can buy more

griffin zegras, while being the younger brother he loved just as hard as his older brother, and was even wiser than the eldest zegras sibling. so when he got the message from his older brother he knew right away that you came up. while he didn’t know what had exactly happened, he had a suspicion that it was something pretty drastic for trevor to drop the groceries in the middle of a parking lot and rush away to an undisclosed location. sighing he liked the message before walking towards the door, “come on av, we gotta go get the groceries.”

an angered laugh fell past your lips as you glared over at the boy. “it was only a matter of time?” shaking your head you looked down at your phone to see that it had only taken fifteen minutes for the date to get completely blown to shit. “you know charles, i’m starting to remember why i never was interested in you during high school,” you started to explain, wiping the tears from your eyes. “because you’re a selfish asshole who gets off on the downfalls of other people, so i think it’s time you take me home.”

“i need the strongest drink you have,” was the first thing out of trevor’s mouth as he threw himself down on the bar stool. the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head in an attempt to blend in with the crowd so nobody realized it was him ‘trevor zegras center for the anaheim ducks’ when all he wanted to be was ‘drunk guy at the bar number two.’

charlie stared over at you with a look of complete disbelief, nobody had ever called him out on his bullshit before tonight. why would they when he could just buy his friend's company with all the money his parents make? his shocked expression remained etched across his face as he pulled into a dunkin parking lot to turn around. even more shocked that he was following through with your wishes of going home when he had waited years for the opportunity to go out with you. yet here he was, giving in to you without any protest, because deep down he knew you were right. he just wasn’t willing to openly admit it.

within the first five minutes of sitting at the bar counter, trevor had managed to completely down the moscow mule which was placed in front of him, as well as three shots of vodka. with his vision toeing the line of fuzzy and seeing straight he backed off the hard alcohol and ordered a bud light. with his buzz well in place, he knew he’d be okay to sip on a beer as you were a distant thought in his alcohol-clouded head.

“oh hi honey, you’re back early.” the sound of your mother's voice was next to one of the last things you wanted to hear as you slowly shut the front door behind you. originally hoping that you could sneak back in without facing the questions as to why you were home. yet your parents' movie night completely ruined that plan. taking a deep breath you walked into the open space, and the scene of seeing your parents happily cuddled up together, how to lose a guy in 10 days on tv, caused you to turn into a sobbing mess. because all you could think of at that moment was how you wanted your future to look exactly like this with one certain person: trevor.

charlie watched as you walked in your front door, and as soon as it was closed he was speeding out of the half-circle driveway towards his sanctuary: the bar. more specifically the bar that trevor was currently holed up in, but neither of them knew this. instead, both of them were both stuck in their thoughts on how to drink enough to get you off their minds.

when you had left for your date with charlie, someone whom both of your parents didn’t think was right for you, they agreed to not say another word on the matter to you. meaning they weren’t going to bring up trevor unless you did. all they wanted was for you to be happy, and if this so-called charles henderson fellow, umaine frat president, could make you happy, then that was all they cared about. so they went along with their nightly plans of watching a rom-com, drinking a bottle of wine, and falling asleep on the couch just like they did in their first year of marriage. just as andie was about to ask ben for another diet coke at the knicks game, you opened the front door. reaching forward, your mother set down her wine glass and paused the movie before turning to look back at you, “oh hi honey, you’re back early.” your father squeezed her hand that he was holding as they both watched the tears begin to fall down your cheeks, simultaneously breaking their hearts. “sweetie what happened? you haven’t cried over a boy since tr-” immediately she caught herself by clearing her throat and restarted. “oh honey, come here.”

time had seemingly stopped for trevor. was this his first beer or his third? he couldn’t remember anymore. while he had started as casually sipping, he soon began to finish them faster than intended as he realized he had nothing to keep him occupied other than the bottle in his hands. with his phone turned off and stashed away in his pocket, not wanting his family or the boys to have his location pinging at a bar, he was completely alone. normally when he did this at home he had the company of a friend over a facetime call. every night it bounced around from person to person. when he wanted someone to help him reflect on the past with you it was spencer, as he was the resident third wheel of your relationship, having grown across the state line separating new york and connecticut with you. on the nights he didn’t want to talk or think about you at all, like tonight, he would call jamie since he never had the chance to meet you. jamie also missed out on the man trevor was before the breakup. while he was still charming, he would change from charming to alarming in seconds, jamie always had to walk on thin glass. nights where he just wanted comfort it was griffin, as there was nothing better than brotherly love, and someone able to hold you while you fall apart. except for tonight, trevor had nobody. he was completely and utterly alone with nobody he knew: until the front door opened and in walked charlie henderson.

sniffling, you wiped away the tears that clung to your jawline before offering your parents a small smile, “can i crash date night after i change?” instantly your mother was nodding her head, your father smiling over at you softly. this gives you the chance to run up to your room and change into the only piece of clothing that could give you comfort when you heart this bad, trevor’s boston university hockey sweatshirt. the last team issued one he got before the covid pandemic shut down his college career and he signed with the ducks. when you wore the gray sweatshirt it felt like he was right there with you. holding you close and promising you everything was going to work out for the better. his scent had long faded, but the idea of it being his was what grounded you. so much so that you were reaching for your phone and his contact.

trevor’s once relaxed body had now become rigid at the sound of charlie’s smooth voice. he was too afraid to dare to look over and risk seeing you hanging off his arm, so instead he ordered another beer and turned so his back was completely towards his former classmate. he hadn’t understood why you agreed to go out on a date with charlie henderson. in high school, he was nothing but sleazy. flaunting his parents' money around to gain the attention of girls, and the friendship of the boys in your grade. sure he was good-looking, but trevor was certain there wasn’t a single brain cell behind those dull, lifeless eyes. when he went away to avon trevor would hear all about the charlie stories through you. how you would roll your eyes every time he tried to make a move on you, always pointing out that you and trevor were still very much together. so it bewildered him that you were currently on a date with charlie ‘frat president’ henderson. then again, people change and maybe charlie had. trevor knew that he had changed for the worse, maybe charlie had changed for the better. and who was he to judge you for your choices? he didn’t even know you anymore.

tears stung your eyes as you stared down at the contact that no longer had a name, but you would know the phone number despite the missing name, even if there was still a random selfie trevor had taken as the contact photo. why you had kept the photo but erased his name made no sense to you back then, and even less now, but that’s not what you were worried about. instead, you were worried about how your hands were shaking as your finger ghosted over the call button. your heart was beating so hard against your rib cage it was starting to hurt. you couldn’t call him, not after all this time. not after ripping his heart out and throwing it on the ground to stomp on it, all while you were still madly in love with him. you couldn’t. yet, you did.

if trevor’s phone had been on he would’ve felt it buzz in his pocket. he would’ve set his bud light down and pulled out his phone instead. the four-year-old picture would’ve flashed across his screen, your name lighting it up at the top. tears would’ve formed in his eyes as he stared down at the eighteen-year-old versions of yourselves before swiping the answer call across his screen. he would feel charlie henderson’s eyes on him as he let out a breath with one thing leaving his lips, “y/n/n.”

only trevor’s phone didn’t buzz, and your call would be missed as he took another sip of his beer. he was trying his hardest to tone out charlie’s voice which seemed to get louder and louder by the second as if he was trying to get under trevor’s skin. like he knew it was him sitting four stools down from him, and he knew just how to hit the twenty-two-year-old right where it hurt and choose to punch a man while he was down. he had started to bring up you.

the moment charlie walked into the bar he had known it was trevor perched up at the counter. at first, he told himself if he was just going to leave it alone, pretend he didn’t see him like every other person in the bar, and go on with his night. drinking little fruity cocktails while he joked around with his friends to get his mind off you and the date that was a disaster. he was fine doing that until one of his dorky tag-a-long friends didn’t get the memo that they weren’t supposed to bring up the fact he wasn’t supposed to be here and said, “aren’t you supposed to be out with y/n l/n right now?” while he could’ve chosen the easy road of telling the truth, one that would shatter his ego and imagine amongst his friends, he began to see red and chose the complete opposite. he chose violence.

“hey, it’s z! sorry i can’t get to the phone right now, i’ll give ya a call when i can!” the voicemail recording caused the sinking feeling in your heart to grow even larger. sniffling you hit the big red end button as the woman's voice explained the steps of leaving a voicemail. you knew you shouldn’t have called, and that trevor not answering wasn’t a surprise to you. running a hand through your curls you slipped the phone into the pocket of his sweatshirt, pulled on a pair of shorts, and walked downstairs to meet your parents. “i’ll make more popcorn if you guys pour me a glass?”

“yeah i was, but she was just so boring,” charlie drawled, trying to think of more lies he could say to cover for himself. “y/n l/n isn't interesting in the slightest. i really don’t get what people see in her.” as his friends kept laughing the smile on his face grew more and more. fuelling the fire that now burned inside of him. nobody called charles j. henderson out on his bullshit and got away with it.

at first, trevor thought he was hallucinating hearing your name come out of charlie’s mouth. because there was no way charlie henderson called you, y/n m/n l/n, boring and uninteresting. so much to the point that he had to end the date twenty minutes after it started. “yeah, you don’t even understand. she was like, fake sobbing because i told her i couldn’t do it. like i’m sorry, i don’t want to spend my night with a girl who’s clearly a four.” finishing his drink he threw three twenty dollar bills down before turning in his seat to look down the bar at charlie. his blood was already boiling, yet he was still waiting for the prime opportunity to pounce on the scumbag.

with a fresh bowl of popcorn resting on the coffee table, and three full glasses of wine surrounding it, you were finally ready to settle down on the couch with your parents to watch the movie. “we restarted it for you, honey. we know how much you like this movie,” your dad said while smiling over at you. taking note of the way you clung to the sweatshirt that was on your frame. he pressed play and you let out a blissful sigh, staring at the opening credits and thinking about how for the next hour and a half, you’d be starting at a young matthew mcconaughey who you thought looked uncannily like trevor in this movie. trying to completely forget about the fact he had sent you to voicemail.

“i don’t think y/n’s a four,” one of charlie’s cronies replied sheepishly, pushing the salt around the rim of his margarita. “she’s like, one of the hottest girls i’ve ever seen! and i mean, she pulled trevor zegras.” charlie cringed at the thought of you and trevor happily together. all he wanted was a chance with you, and the one time he got that chance it was ruined by some stupid nhl player who didn’t even graduate college. meanwhile, he had graduated and on top of that, he did it while organizing frat party after frat party. what did trevor do? nothing! he left you up for grabs three different times because of hockey. in his opinion it was time you dumped him, even if he was out of your league, so you could settle down with somebody more like him. seeing how displeased charlie had grown with his comments in defense of you, matt the cronie, frowned before changing his tune about you. “yeah you’re right, char, she is a four. a total four! i mean, what did zegras even see in her, to begin with? probably only stuck with her because she was too ugly to cheat on him, and wouldn’t feel bad cheating on her when he left for hockey.”

if the words charlie’s friends were spewing about you weren’t enough to get his blood boiling, then the way charlie’s lips curled up into an evil smile was. he rushed off of his stool and stomped his way over to the group, a scowl on his face as he watched all of them but charlie stare at him in awe. he was still a famous nhl player after all. “don’t you fucking idiots dare let y/n’s name leave your mouth again, or i swear to god i’ll kill you. all of you. she’s too pure-hearted and too good of a person for you to be dragging her name in the dirt. she’s the type of beautiful where you’re lucky to be in her presence. inside and out.” his nostrils flared as he heaved out every word laced with anger. “and you,” he seethed turning his full attention to charlie, “consider yourself fucking lucky someone as incredible as y/n agreed to go on a date with a self-absorbed egotistical asshole like yourself. you’re calling her uninteresting? the only thing you have to show for yourself is the fact you were a frat president at umaine, nobody gives a shit dude!”

even with your attention on the movie you could feel the way your mother kept glancing over at you. you were an open book to her. you knew it was only a matter of time until she said you could talk to her, or asked about trevor’s sweatshirt. and as if almost on cue she leaned over to whisper into your ear. “do you want to talk about it, sweetie? it has to have been pretty bad if you’re wearing trevor’s sweatshirt. you only do that when you’re really upset.” shrugging your shoulders you reached forward and grabbed your glass of wine. praying that taking a sip would end her pestering. she ran a hand through your hair and pressed a kiss against your forehead, “whenever you’re ready, i’m ready.” only you didn’t think you’d be ready to talk about the events of this night for a long time. not until you at least figured it out for yourself, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever figure it out for yourself.

the cronies were stifling back their laughter as they listened to trevor tear into their group's leader. only the laughter came to a halt as chalire jumped out of his barstool to stand chest to chest with the six-foot-even nhl forward. “think you’re a big man now that you’re in the nhl z?” charlie asked with a taunting tone, head tilted to the side as he just barely stared down at the hockey player. “well you’re not, dumbass. i mean look at you, you’re getting blackout drunk in a bar over your ex-girlfriend who broke up with you three years ago. you’re pathetic. just like y/n’s little dream of being a doctor.” matt and nate let out a chorus of ‘ooh’s’ like the group was still in high school, right away beginning to make small comments to each other. “maybe you guys did deserve each other, could’ve been pathetic together.”

that’s when the first punch was thrown.

“i tried calling him,” you whispered out only for your mother to hear. because you knew if your father heard it would be over. his hopes would get too high, and he would fly too close to the sun thinking he was about to get his best friend back. even your mother perked up hearing that you had called him. “but he didn’t answer,” you added, e/c eyes completely focused on the screen in front of you. “it’s probably for the best that he didn’t answer. i can’t blame him.” you were sniffling before burying your head in your mother’s chest. fighting back the tears as you snuggled closer to her. wondering why you had let your anxiety and the possibility of trevor and your relationship turning toxic steer you away from the only person you’d ever love.

your father listened from the other side of your mother, a frown overtaking his features while he sunk into the couch. he couldn’t help but feel as if all of this heartbreak had been his fault. he was the reason you and trevor had met in the first place. (the reason you had met spencer too but that’s beside the point right now). on the side of his day job as a pediatrician, he coached a local youth hockey team. while you played on the girl's team, your dad thought it would be best to avoid the whole politics of ‘parent coaches’ and stuck to the boys and that’s how he met trevor and spencer. you met at an outdoor jamboree at the ripe age of five, and since then you had been inseparable. it was only a matter of time until you and trevor ended up together, and nobody was happier about that than your father. trevor was the son he never knew he wanted. he just fit in with your family, with your lives. so when you came back inside that december night crying, saying you had broken up, poor d/n l/n felt like it was all his fault two of his favorite people in the world were crushed as badly and as deeply as they were. he still couldn’t forgive himself.

trevor had swung at charlie first. his right fist splitting his lip in half. the blood coated his knuckles and the tiled floor. as he watched charlie stumble backward he turned his attention to matt first. “you know matt, i was going to spare you, but then you had to go and change your tune just for a couple of hundred bucks,” he slurred with a smirk on his face, “so i gotta do what i gotta do, i hope you can respect that man.” he didn’t give the boy chance to answer before he threw another heavy right hook. this time breaking the matt’s nose. the crunch of the cartilage breaking could be heard throughout the whole bar, and that’s what gained the attention of every bar-goer. trevor had sealed his fate as soon as the first punch was thrown.

the onlookers in the bar couldn’t believe what was happening in front of them. it wasn’t every day that a true bar fight broke out, and it certainly wasn’t every day that it was an nhl player took part in it. barry, the regular bartender, figured it would sort itself out. a couple of punches would be thrown and then the group would separate and there would be nothing to worry about. it would be a done deal. only that wasn’t what happened in this case. charlie henderson, after picking himself up off the counter, lunged forward and socked trevor right in the temple. laying it on thick enough to give the star player a black eye for a couple of days, maybe even a week. when trevor lunged forward and tackled the entitled prick to the grimy floor is when poor barry had to make the phone call to the police, seeing as matt and nate were doing absolutely nothing to help their friend, and trevor wasn’t stopping anytime soon.

“sweetheart,” your mother cooed while running a hand up and down your back. “just give trevor a little time. you haven’t talked in nearly three years, he’s probably scared to hear from you considering the last time you saw each other…” as she trailed off you nodded along with what she was saying. she made a valid argument in trevor’s defense. if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t answer you on the first phone call either. you asked him to completely forget you existed, so he had to have been fairly confused about why you were even trying to call him. you had never attempted to reach out to him before, but what he didn’t know is that you still kept tabs on him. asked spencer and your parents about him, sometimes even reaching out to jack if an opportunity presented itself to you. you still followed him on instagram to see what he was up to, but never liking any posts so he wouldn’t know. (he knew. he checked his following once a month to see if your name was still amongst the sea of random people he didn’t care about). you still cared about him and loved him, but he just didn’t know it, so you figured it was time to change that. if only he had answered the call.

trevor’s knuckles burned with every punch he threw, pulling them as he knew he couldn’t beat this kid to a bloody pulp. although, if you looked at his split knuckles you would think that he had. the blood from charlie’s split lip and broken nose had coated his own on his cracked open knuckles. leaning over the man trevor tried to catch his breath before throwing one more threat his way. “don’t you ever fucking talk about y/n again. if i find out you did, i won’t be so gentle next time.” carefully he pulled himself off charlie before leaning back against a barstool, a bad decision on his part because the next thing he knew charlie was barking orders at matt and nate when he clearly should’ve sought medical attention for his broken nose.

within an instant the two cowards were pinning him down to the blood-filled floor as charlie leaned over with a nasty grin, blood dripping down to the tiles next to his dirty blond hair.

“you’re going to wish you never threw that punch when i’m done with you, big z. cause you see, i have nothing to lose unlike you.” and with that charlie drilled him in the left side of his head, making sure that his black eye wasn’t going away for a long period of time.

shrugging your shoulder’s you nodded, a defeated sigh leaving your lips. “yeah, i wouldn’t have answered me either,” you mumbled, curling yourself into the other end of the couch. beginning to nurse the glass of wine you were about to refill. eyes refocusing on the screen in front of you as ben and andie sat at a couple’s counselor. it was a cruel joke in your eyes now, that if you had thought of going to therapy by yourself or with trevor maybe none of this would’ve happened. maybe he’d be with you right now, cuddled up on the love seat throwing popcorn at each other while your parents looked on in awe of you. but you know what they say, dreams are for rookies.

with each punch charlie landed on trevor’s face he felt his ego rise once more through his body. there was no doubt his left hook had broken trevor’s nose, blood having immediately started to gush from it. only that didn’t stop him. no, charlie was seeing red, while he may have been in the wrong he wasn’t going to let trevor off as easy he did him. no he wasn’t stopping until both eyes were black and blue, his nose was dislocated and resting against his left cheek, and his lips had cracks and split in them. he wanted trevor zegras to be unrecognizable when he was done with him, and he would’ve had his way if he hadn’t heard the sirens over the mood music in the bar. “oh fuck, that’s the cops!” charlie yelled, jumping off trevor. in the process, kneeing him right in the stomach. while it wasn’t intentional he couldn’t lie, he was happy it had happened. “nate, matt, we gotta get out of here. my dad still hasn’t paid my speeding tickets.” as they ran towards the front door it was pushed open by two middle-aged police officers. the ginger took in the scene in front of him, while the blond shook his head.

“nobody’s going anywhere. you’re all coming with us.”

groaning out in agony trevor didn’t even try to pull himself off the floor. he was far too embarrassed by what had occurred to have the will to move. he was embarrassed about everything but defending your name. if you were still together and this had happened he knew you’d be giving him an ear full. telling him that your name isn’t as important as his reputation, and the status his name held. but ultimately you would cave, thanking him for defending you before the two of you fell asleep. now, he didn’t know what you would do when word got back to you. would you be mad at him? happy he stuck up for you? it would be a lie to say he didn’t care because he did. he had to know what you thought of the events that occurred. little did he know, but he would find out sooner rather than later what you thought of this little bar brawl.

“i’m going to grab the other bottle of red and make some nachos to go along with it. do either of my women need something while i’m up?” asked your father as he paused the movie, right as it was about to get good. classic dad move. your mother got up to accompany him, while you stayed rooted in your seat. finishing the glass in your hands. besides pausing movies at random times, your dad had always been a sweetheart. there was nothing more he wanted in life than to have a family, to have children. unfortunately for both your mother and father, you were the only child they were gifted with. it was a struggle to have you as your mother struggled with fertility issues, yet that didn’t damper either of their spirits, especially your fathers. during the day he thrived as a pediatrician that every parent wanted their child to go to. he had a gift when it came to children. and by night he was a resident youth hockey coach. but first and foremost he was a family man. there was nothing he wouldn’t do for either you or your mother. big or small, he was always the first person offering to help. he was the one who picked up your pieces after the breakup. he was your true confidant. he explained to you that at one point in their lives, your parents had broken up. your father was struggling to stay afloat in med school, and your mother was thriving at the bedford elementary school as a teacher. the distance, and the fact he felt he wasn’t enough for her, was enough for him to end their relationship. their break lasted almost a year until they reconnected in a hospital waiting room. it was because of your parents and your father practically doing the exact thing you did, that you even had the slightest hope you and trevor could rekindle your relationship. only, you were starting to realize, you should’ve called after year one, not year three.

“alright kid, time to get up,” the ginger officer drawled while leaning over to pick trevor up by his armpits. once he was up on his feet, the office turned trevor around and pressed him up against the bar counter, and pulled both of his hands behind his back. letting out a sigh trevor couldn’t help but shiver as the metal handcuffs were clasped around his wrists. he was soon pulled forward off the counter and was started towards the door, “you’re facing disorderly conduct. you have the right..” the officers' words trailed off in trevor’s head as he was brought back outside. the blond cop had charlie, matt, and nate huddled together on the hood of his car. he couldn’t quite make out what was being said, but it sounded as if charlie was trying to bribe the officer to not book them. the conversation was completely cut from trevor’s ear as his officer, officer collins, opened the back door, pushed his head down, and pushed him inside. as trevor stared up at him he could only think of one thing.

“wait!” he exclaimed as officer collins was about to shut the door, “my emergency phone call is y/n l/n.”

your mother came back into the room first giving you the perfect opportunity to ask. “mom, do you think there’s still a chance trevor and i end up together? i mean, like you and dad did?” she didn’t answer you, instead, she let out a sigh while leaning down and filling your glass of wine. you could tell that she was thinking of the right thing to say back to you, and that’s how you knew you most likely weren’t going to like the answer she had come up with. “you know mom, you actually don’t have to answer that. it’s silly of me to even think that we did have a chance to get back together. i blew it the moment i broke up with him in twenty-twenty.” while you were currently three glasses deep, starting your fourth, the buzz was beginning to hit you. since the breakup, red wine no longer made you horny as it once had while you were dating trevor, instead, it sent you in a downward spiral of your most inner ward thoughts. the downward spiral which was beginning to happen, yet you didn’t know how to make it stop before it got too bad. “i was so stupid to do that, break up with him. i thought we would end up in a toxic relationship. i thought we would end up hurting each other, so i chose to just hurt him instead. because while it hurt me to do, i got over it. i got over it faster than i should’ve, and every time i came home i wanted him again. i wanted us again, and this time i know i want him and only him forever.” taking a deep breath you looked up at your mother with tears forming in your eyes again, “so mom i do need to know, do you think there’s a chance me and trevor make it in the end?”

officer collins shook his head while slamming the back door in trevor’s face. he stalled for a minute opening his notebook and grabbing his pen. quickly he scribbled down ‘y/n l/n’ before pocketing his notebook and pen and walking to the driver's door. he glanced in his side mirror to watch as officer shandy, the blond, shoved charlie henderson and the other two he didn’t know into the back of his car. he then switched his gaze to his rearview mirror to stare at trevor. he had his busted-up face pressed against his the glass window. he assumed that it was because the coolness of the glass felt good against his cut-up lips and bruised eyes. sighing he pulled his patrol car into gear and checked the mirror one more time before addressing trevor again. “don’t worry kid, we’ll get your face cleaned up then you can make your call.”

“can i make the call first?”

m/n l/n’s heart broke as she sat and listened to your ramblings. in a way she had felt guilty she was even hearing every word that you had begun to utter to her. of course she had thought about you and trevor getting back together multiple times. it was something she had thought of almost daily. but as time grew on she saw it becoming less and less likely of a happy outcome. she, of course, had known trevor would be more than willing to jump at an opportunity to get back together with you, it was you she was worried about. she figured as time grew on you would lose all your interest in the bedford native, so she was completely shocked to hear that you were still all in with trevor. “honey,” she sat back down next to you hands reaching forward and grabbing yours, “i think there’s a chance if you really want there to be.” she squeezed your hands before kissing the top of your head, “i wish i could discredit the words you had just said to me, but unfortunately i know that they hold nothing but the truth. but i do still believe that if you want to be with trevor then you'll find a way to end up with each other.”

“sure kid, you can make your call first if that’s what you really want.” officer collins answer had satisfied trevor to the point where he zoned out into his own little world for the remainder of the drive. by some stroke of fate, they were caught at the same red light charlie and you had been stuck at when trevor had seen you. he took it upon himself to look and see if someone had picked up his grocery bags, they had, griffin and ava having found them right away. his attention was then turned to the traffic lights that seemed to be speaking to him.

“will it be alright?” he asked, whether he spoke it out loud or if it was just in his head he got an answer regardless. as the light turned from red to green it spoke out with a defeated, “i don’t know.”

tears carved their way down your cheeks, leaving what you thought would be a permanent trail as you clung to the little bit of hope your mother’s words gave you. you cradled the wine glass close to your face, watching as your tears fell into the sea of red alcohol, trying to stop yourself from thinking about what your life would look like now if you had never broken up with trevor. thinking how you could be with him doing god knows what. maybe getting in a little trouble, maybe just spending the night in the back of his god-awfully colored bronco at the old lookout point. how he’d be busy cracking jokes, teasing you to no end, all while you playfully would shove his chest before grabbing his chain and pulling him in for another kiss. not stopping until your already swollen lips looked as if you were both stung by bees. instead, you were met with the cruel reality of not having a single clue where trevor was, or what he was doing. you were left alone with your thoughts about when things seemed as if they were never going to end and there was stuck with you: how did you ever think trevor zegras would turn out as a toxic person?

if officer collins had been speaking to him, trevor wouldn’t have had a single clue as to what he was saying. the entire ride to the police station he was busy listening to the in-and-out crackling of the transmitter radio connected to the patrol car. he wasn’t listening to what the dispatcher was saying about situations that need police assistance, or even what the officers were saying in response to these calls. no, he was too busy listening to the static of the transmitter radio as it brought him some sort of weird comforting feeling in his drunken state. taking a deep breath to the beat of the static he sunk into the backseat, head still pressed against the glass staining it with blood and the lingering alcohol on his breath. the static helped lull him into a dreaming dazed state. one where he still had you. in his daydream, you were sitting on his lap as you and all of your friends were huddled around a fire at the hughes lake house. you had just spent the entire day wake surfing and tubing, and now you were sitting around the fire with newly sunkissed skin. the residue of s’more’s gracing the corners of both yours and trevor’s lips. you would be starting to fall asleep in his arms, lazily smiling and laughing at something cole had said before staring back up at trevor as his eyes would’ve already been on you. he was convinced that if you ever got back together his eyes would never leave you in fear of losing you again, so that’s how he pictured it. you falling asleep while staring up at him. surrounded by all of your friends, completely and utterly in love with each other. the sound of a page for officers interrupted the beauty of the transmitter radio static, as well as the daydream trevor, was lost in. groaning he smacked his head back against the headrest, starting the vicious self-loathing cycle he ended up when drunk - hating that he didn’t even know what he did wrong to have lost you.

“how did i ever think trevor would end up as a toxic person?”

before he knew it, officer collins was pulling open the back door again and greeted him with a tight-lipped smile. “alright kid let’s get this all over with.” sighing trevor barely nodded his head as collins pulled him out of the car, and slammed the door behind him once again. trevor kept his head down as he was led into the police station. praying that somehow, this would all work out where his name didn’t end up on page six of the local newspaper, and things wouldn’t reach the executive offices of the ducks. part of him knew it wouldn’t, not when charlie henderson couldn’t jeopardize himself or his last name either. yet as officer collins worked on taking his fingerprints he couldn’t help but begin to worry. about what you would think when you read about the charges in the local paper. what your parents would think, would they still like him? what his parents and family would say. he could already hear griffin’s voice saying ‘are you fucking stupid?’ but he was currently stuck on wondering what the ducks would say about all of this. what twitter would say, because sooner or later his entire life always ended up on twitter, it was always just a matter of time. somewhere in his train of thought, he was handed a plaque reading his name and the date for his mug shot, still clinging on to the piece of hope that all of this would get blown over as soon as charlie and his friends were brought in. he turned to the sides when told, hands tightly holding on to the black plastic in his hands. waiting patiently for his next instructions. until it happened, and he felt his heart race within the confines of his rib cage.

“alright kid, you can go make your phone call now.”

your mother seemed stunned at the question, you have completely caught her off guard once more. she remained silent as you tried to choke back the sobs that were about to resurface from earlier. remembering he hadn’t answered your phone call, wondering why you had felt like you weren’t enough for him, why you thought he would force you away from your dreams when he was the one who pushed you and supported you to try and accomplish them. (which you had since done. having graduated from boston college and were currently in the process of deciding which university to complete medical school at). you had helped save him countless of times before, no matter how drastic the measures you were there for him, and he was there for you. yet in your greatest time of need, when you needed him the most, you refused to open up enough to him to allow him to help combat your self-doubt and took the easy way out instead. “you lost your way for a little while, honey,” your mother finally spoke with ease to her words. trying her hardest to make you believe what she was saying. “you lost your way and lost sight of what was truly important to you other than your degree and med school, and that’s completely okay. you’re human - shit happens. you live and you learn. you lost sight of the person you loved because you were starting to lose yourself, but you’ve found your way back. it’ll all work itself out. eventually.” you threw yourself into your mother's arms, holding on to her for dear life.

as your father walked back into the living room (trying his hardest to act as if he hadn't heard the entirety of your conversation) he couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of him. happy you were finally allowing yourself to grieve with the loss of trevor and yours relationship, and that you were trusting your mother with this information. finally trusting in yourself to come to terms with the fact you needed and wanted trevor in your life because you loved him deeply. he kissed the top of both yours and your mother’s head before taking his rightful seat again. just in time for the sound of a phone ringing to interrupt the tender moment being shared.

confused you pulled away from your mother's loving arms and fished your phone from the front pocket of your sweatshirt. confusion etched deeper in your face as the number popped up with a small caller id under it. licking your lips you looked at both of your parents as your heart started to race inside your chest, “it’s the police department.”

officer collins was nice enough to remove trevor’s handcuffs in order to make the call. so with shaky hands, trevor reached forward to the landline in a dimly light hallway. taking a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and punched in your phone number from memory. he could feel the tears prick at his waterline as he waited for you to pick up the phone. the dial tone rang loud in his ears until finally, it didn’t. and for the first time in three years, he heard the sound of your breathing. the silence was deafening as he waited for you to speak, desperate to hear your voice. then there it was: “hello?”

after watching your parents shrug their shoulders you made the split decision to answer the call. you were met with the sound of breathing on the other line, mind racing as to who could possibly be calling you from the police station at this time of night. when the person on the other end of the line hadn’t spoken you took it upon yourself to. “hello?” you asked with uncertainty in your voice, and just by the sound of their sigh of relief you knew who it was instantly. “t-trevor?” it came out it in a choked back whisper, your mind not able to process the fact he was most likely in jail. “what, why are you calling me from the police station?”

he could hear the panic in your voice through the phone, green eyes closing so he could picture what you looked like right now. the look of fear on your face from getting a call from an unknown number and it’s him. “uh, h-hi, y/n/n,” he slurred, tears slipping out of his closed eyes because he couldn’t believe it. you were on the phone with him. you were talking to him. this was real.

this was real. for both of you. trevor was in the police station. he’d been arrested and he had chosen to call you.

your heart dropped into your stomach as you felt anger rise through your body, yet you weren’t quite sure why. maybe it was because he had been arrested. maybe it was because the first time you’d heard from him in years was because he was calling you to come and bail him out. but at the same time, you tried to remain calm. preparing yourself for whatever it was that he was about to tell you. “so um, i’m sure you’re probably wondering what i’m doing calling you from the police station’s number.” he tried to force out a laugh, but next to nothing came out. and you could tell he was nervously waiting for your reaction.

“i mean it’s not every day you get a call from your ex-boyfriend.” your words had cut him deep. ‘ex-boyfriend’. he bit his lip in order to prevent a whimper from escaping his mouth at the dreaded word. “but then again, it isn’t every day you get a call from your ex-boyfriend who’s in jail, so yeah trev, i am wondering why you're calling me from the police station.” while your words had seemed bitter, your tone was nothing but soothing to him. he could tell you were currently trying to hold yourself together from the number of mixed emotions that had to have been coursing through your body. he also knew you meant no harm because you had called him ‘trev’. if you had called him anything other than that he knew you were over this. over him. over the phone call. over being his lifeline still after all this time. so with a small hopeful smile on his face, he started to make his case to you.

squeezing your mother’s hand you braced for the explanation you were bound to hear. mind racing, and emotions swirling around like a tornado in your body. “i saw you,” he whispered, voice breaking as he spoke. you didn’t need to hear what he said next to know he saw you at the stoplight with charlie, moments before your desaster of a date ended. “at the lights with charlie fucking henderson of all people!” that caused your blood to begin boiling. while his opinion of charlie was accurate, it still irked you that he had to make it known he disapproved. you weren’t his anymore. you didn’t owe him any reasoning on why you went out with charlie. on why you were allowing yourself to settle for him when all you wanted was trevor, but you couldn’t tell him that. you couldn’t allow yourself to give him that satisfaction when he was rotting in a jail cell with the other drunks that had been brought in for the night. “and it just, it ruined me, y/n/n. it ruins me, destroies me, sending me into a crippling to depression to see you when i come home every summer. to see you happy, without me. to see that our relationship must have meant nothing for you to just let me go like that. without a fucking reason as to why!” you didn’t know how much more you could take of his drunken ramblings, because hearing the truth come from his lips was something you never wanted to hear. you knew you hurt him, ripped his heart out and stabbed him in the back, but you never wanted to hear him say that. to hear what it felt like for him to come home and see you. “because i still love you, y/n/n. i love you more than anything in this world. so much so that i got into a bar fight with charlie to defend you against everything him and his friends were saying about you. so much that i’m calling you from jail. i love you so much that i can’t be in bedford anymore, and if i am here i have to drink away any and all thoughts of you because i promised to forget you when you broke up with me.”

trevor sat on the other end of the line, slumping against the white paint cracked walls. awaiting an answer from you after he had just poured his heart and soul out to you. he could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. felt the watchful eyes of officer collins, and now officer shandy, watching and listening to what could either break his heart all over again, or bring it back to life.

“y/n?” he whispered out into your ear. “are you - are you still there?” the worry in his voice was evident, he thought he was about to lose you all over again, and you could feel yourself slipping away from him once more. closing your eyes you fought with the tears, your head, and your heart as you pulled the phone away from your ear. “i’m sorry, i know that it’s a lot to take in. and you didn’t ask for any of this. or want any part of me any-” his voice was cut off by the sound the sound the dial tone. your finger having pressed the red button to end his drunken pleas with you. every thought you had about wanting to with him still tonight fluttering out the window, because a villain isn’t supposed to show remorse to those they hurt, they just keep hurting them.

the hockey player jumped up from his seated position as the dial tone filled his ears again. “no! no, no, no, no, no. y/n, baby please. please!” he all but screamed into the phone that no longer had a caller on it. officer collins and shandy both began moving closer to him, seeing this as a potential threat to himself. “fuck!” he all but raged as he slammed the black plastic back into its holder. then crumpling down into the floor. head between his knees as he sobbed to himself over losing you once again.

“y/n, why did you hang up on him,” your mother exclaimed. shocked that you had done what you just had after pouring your heart and soul out to her about how you still loved the twenty-two-year-old, and wanted to be with him again. “what about what you told me tonight? he still loves you!”

shaking your head you pushed yourself off the couch, reaching down for the new bottle of wine before making your way to the stairs. “and i love him,” you finally whispered out loud to both your parents. your e/c eyes stayed glued to the stairs as you tried to work yourself off the ledge you found your self towering on. “but i can’t love him when he’s like this, so i have to be the bad guy, because i can’t save him from himself this time.” you knew it was the truth, but still you couldn’t help but feel like you were lying to yourself. you were the one who caused this pain, this anguish for trevor, and it was only you who could save him from it. but you refused. so you walked up to your room, locking yourself in there with the full bottle of wine, taking a page out of trevor’s book and trying to drink any thought of him away.

officer collins crouched down in front of trevor and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “look kid, i’m really sorry she hung up on you,” he started to say with a sullen look on his face, “it wasn’t right of her to do that. not when you clearly still need her in your life, but unfortunately there’s nothing else we can do. we gotta put you in the holding cell until henderson finishes up, and then this will all go away. i promise. nobody will ever know.”

trevor’s head shot up to look at the middle aged man leaning over him. his head shaking vigorously to disagree with what he was saying. in an instant he was resting on his knees, clutching his hands together as he stared up at him. “i beg you, sir, just let me call.” his voice was filled with a pleading note as he stared up at officer collins, praying he could get through to him. “i’ll give you my blood alcohol, i’ll rot with all the burnouts in the cell,” he began to list while tears clung to his eyelashes. “i’ll change my faith, and and i’ll praise the flag!” he exclaimed, “let’s wait, i swear she’ll call me back.”

the oldest man in the hallway let out a sad sigh before glancing to his partner, then back down at trevor. “son, are you a danger to yourself?” he hated asking that question, but trevor was starting to scare him. he needed to know how concerned he should be regarding this situation.

anger flashed through trevor’s green eyes after the question was asked, and as it hung in the silence of the hallway he pushed himself up off the floor. shrugging away officer collins hands he scoffed, “fuck that, sir, just let me call.” the pleading look on his face was slowly starting to slip away into something almost nobody could read. “i’ll give you my blood alcohol. i’ll rot with all the burnouts in the cell. change my faith, and i’ll kiss the badge. please, let’s wait. i swear she’ll call me back.” this time he reached out forward and grabbed officer collins hands, begging with everything he had left in him. trying his hardest to flash what he considered his puppy dog eyes, and appeal to this mans better nature.

officer shandy stepped in next, his hand reaching for trevor’s shoulders and bringing his attention fully to him. trevor’s green eyes bored into his blue ones, and he could feel himself begin to crack under the honest weight the officers held. his charming demeanor falling as the questions was asked:

“son, why do you do this to yourself?”

it hung in the air as trevor’s shoulders sagged, showing that he was defeated. he was only twenty-two after all. twenty-two but still in love with a woman who didn’t want him anymore, and he just couldn’t let go of you. silently he thought to himself, about there possibly being another reason as to why he allowed this all to happen besides him still being in love with you. that maybe he feared something more than having lost you. “i’m not proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown,” trevor mumbled out into the silence, to be heard by the awaiting ears of the officers. “in the name of someone i no longer know.” a small smile cracked his face when he said that. thinking about you, what your voice sounded like, picturing that scared look on your face when you realized he was calling your from a police station. “for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone,” he finished while looking between the two. “but i would die for her, y/n, even if i don’t know her anymore.”

the three remained quiet for an unknown amount of time. it had seemed fitting to just sit there in a silence while they all tried to understand the full events of the night. their peaceful silence was broken by the wooden double doors being pushed open to what looked like on of the newer officers. “officer shandy, officer collins, sir, mr henderson his here and has requested the dropping of charges against trevor zegras, and for this all to go away,” he explained before slowly slipping back inside the lobby of the police station. trevor’s green eyes turned to stare at officer collins, waiting for some sort of directions.

“i told you it would work itself out kid, maybe there’s some hope after all for you,” he reasoned while beginning to lead trevor back into the main area. instead of taking a seat at officer collins desk trevor was brought face to face with the chain linked fence of the holding cell, only there was nobody else in there and it would be just him tonight. “this is just until somebody has time to drop you off at home, we’ve gotta file out this paperwork before we can.”

nodding his head trevor walked into the cell before slumping down against the bench. “i guess i shouldn’t have wasted my call on somebody who was just going to hang up on me, huh?” he tried to joke, only it didn’t help him like he thought it would. office collins gave him a tight lipped smile before turning on his heels and walking back to his desk. leaving trevor to slowly let his eyes close as he tried to block out everything regarding the events of tonight, hoping it would being him some sort of comfort if he did so.

as the sun disappeared, and the moon slowly got higher in the sky griffin, as well as the entire zegras household, was beginning to wonder just what had happened to trevor. “has anybody seen trevor?” julie asked, there being just a touch of panic in her voice. “he never came home after getting the groceries.” both ava and griffin shrugged their shoulders not having a clue as to where their brother went, while gary looked up from his newspaper bewildered by his wifes previous statement. griffin caught ava’s gaze from above his phone as they shared a look of ‘oh maybe we should be good siblings and go look for him’ before either of them got out of their seats and one inched towards the front door, while the other towards the stairs.

“hey mom, i’m gonna go to nico’s and catch up with him. don’t wait up,” griffin all but yelled before he slipped out of the house without waiting for a reply. once in the safety of his car he opened his phone to the messages with his little sister praying that she had somewhat figured out trevor’s location.

god trevor’s actually sofucking stupid. he’s at the police station. good lucksoldier

groaning griffin threw his head back against the headrest, of course trevor was at the police station. it was only a matter of time until his drinking got him stuck in there. shooting ava a quick text he threw his phone down and sped out of their drive way towards the police station, only slightly worried about what trevor was waiting for him when he got there.

there sound of a soft knock on your door startled you mid swig of wine, your body jolting forward enough to cause the red liquid to swirl around in the glass bottle. when the knock was heard again you set the bottle down and padded across the hardwood floor to your bedroom door. taking a deep breath you steadied yourself before reaching towards the silver handle, praying only slightly that when you opened the door it would be trevor standing there to greet you. to explain to you how all of this was just a misunderstanding, and it was all going to work out for the better. only when you pulled the door open you were met with your father’s sullen face, his hands clasped in front of him. “i know you’ve already talked enough about this issue tonight, sweetheart,” he started, his tone soft yet firm. “and there’s probably next to nothing left to say, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are the key to this solution, whether you like it or not, and i think it’s time you own up to it.” your eyes fell downcast as you took in his words, knowing that what he said held nothing but undeniable truth. shuffling you moved out of the doorway enough for your father to walk through before closing the door behind him. he led the way over to your bed, sitting himself on the edge, waiting for you to make the next move.

taking a deep breath you sat down next to him, eyes glancing towards the bottle before you looked down at your hands. “if i’m the solution, where do i start?”

it had seemed as if hours had passed by in the time trevor had closed his eyes until he heard yelling coming from every direction. only when he opened his eyes and found a clock he realized it had only been nearly twenty minutes. groaning he slammed his head back against the wall, green eyes glancing around the cell to see there was two new additions, nate and matt. trevor offered an awkward half wave to the two boys, which they both returned. “‘m sorry i beat you guys up,” he then apologized with sincerity in his voice. “y/n, she just, she means a lot to me. i still really love her, you know?”

matt couldn’t believe what he had just heard from trevor zegras mouth: an apology. one that definitely wasn’t needed seeing as the three of them were purposefully trying to get a rise out of the poor guy. pushing him to see how far he would get before seeing red. glancing over towards nate, matt made the decision to speak next. “no apology needed man, i mean we said some fucked up shit,” he addmitted, finally starting to not fear having an opinion that was different from charlie’s. “none of which was true by the way. we all know y/n isn’t boring, or her dreams don’t suck. charlie’s just jealous that she’s actually going to do something with her life and he’s going to be living off his trustfund.”

laughter erupted from the three men in the cell, all having agreed that charlie had no future. as the laughter began to die down nate sighed before being to speak next, “look man, we’re the ones who should be sorry. you knew your limit and when to stop, but we just helped hold you down as charlie tried to beat the shit out of you. we deserved everything we got tonight.”

trevor just barely nodded his head to agree with them both, eyes once against scanning the police station trying to find charlie. his curiosity suddenly getting the better of him and wondering why he wasn’t currently in the cell with them. “so, where is charles?” he then asked, the question hanging in the air, pushing down against his chest. because depending on what was said his whole future could be at stake. sure officer collins and shandy said mr. henderson was going to drop the charges, but that didn’t mean charlie would still try something to throw trevor under the bus. he could feel his anxiety rise because of the stituation at hand once more, being to bite his nails while he waited for an answer.

griffin took his time while driving to the police station. mostly because he was nervous to see his big brother behind bars, but partly because he wanted trevor to think nobody was coming to help him. of course griffin knew how self destructive trevor had gotten since your break up, the entire family did, but griffin was the only one who knew how bad it had gotten. he also knew you were still reeling in different feelings towards the nhl center, as he and ava were both still in contact with you. sure, he may have resented you a little bit for what you did up and out of the blue to trevor, but he also knew you must have had a reason to do so, so he didn’t judge. that much. that’s why he had tried countless times to break his brother’s harmful habits, knowing trevor had no chance to win you back if he kept falling down this path he was currently on. that’s why he took the twenty minute route to a destination that was only five minutes away, he wanted this time in that cell to mean something to trevor. he wanted him to reflect on himself, his actions, and how much he still truly loved you, because if he loved you the way he says he does, he’d stop the drinking with or without you. he just hadn’t come to that self discovery yet.

your father reached over and grabbed your hands, “start by forgiving yourself, y/n.” his e/c eyes that matched your own bored into the side of your head, waiting for you to turn and meet his gaze. willing you to do so, even though it was in vain. your eyes remained rooted forward, staring at your now intertwined hands. “you’re guilt ridden, and your bones are heavy with the grief of the love you once had. forgive yourself for letting it go, as your mother said earlier, you’re only human. forgive yourself, then you can forgive trevor. then you can call him.”

“charlie’s, uh, he’s in the process of having a screaming match with his father in the chief’s office,” matt explained with a crooked smile. “his dad is pissed he started something. again. but otherwise everything’s all good and has been taken care of. matt and i are just waiting for our rides home, what about you, z?”

the question stuck with trevor, ‘what about you, z?’ well he didn’t know what about him. he wasted his phone call on you, you hung up on him, and now he was stuck in the cell until and officer could drive him home. god what a shit show that was going to be. shrugging his shoulders he tried to appear as if he was coming off as his normal easygoing self. “officer collins is going to drive me home, nobody answered when i called home.”

sighing griffin killed the engine of his car and forced himself up and out of his car. he knew it was wrong to let his big brother sit and rot in there as long as he did, but it felt good doing it. he kept his eyes down while walking through the front door, making his way right to the front desk. leaning over it he waited for either an officer or receptionist to come and speak to him about what he was doing here. he waited a good five minutes, slowly taking in his surroundings and trying to locate his brother, but that was proved to be invain as he couldn’t the eldest zegras sibling anywhere. “hi honey, i hope you weren’t waiting too long,” a sweet older woman smiled while sitting back in her seat. “now, what can i do for you?”

tears stung your eyes as you looked over at your father, “how is it possible to forgive myself when all i’ve been is a horrible person in the last three years?”

“i’m here to pick up trevor zegras.”

trevor’s head lulled backwards as he listened to both matt and nate talk back and forth about something he had lost interest in minutes ago. eyes closing as he tried to find some sort of peace, to try and calm his murky mind. he tried to not think of you and the events that got him to this point in his life, but he couldn’t help but focus on them. starting to feel ashamed of causing himself nothing but pain from drinking every time he came home to bedford. ashamed that he was alone. ashamed he had even the slightest hope you had still wanted him, but now he knew you surely wouldn’t want him after his drunken call tonight. he didn’t even want him right now. he let out a quiet groan to himself in order to not disturb nate and matt’s rambling discussion, wishing there was a way he could separate himself as a person. so he could be the person he was before your relationship again instead of the drunken shell of a man he used to be. and then, something happened that he hadn't expected. “mr. zegras, your ride is here.” his green eyes shot open, frantically looking around for a figure that somewhat resembles you, only he couldn’t see one. officer collins was staring back at him as the cell door opened for his release. “they’re waiting for you in the lobby where you can collect your personal belongings.”

without another word trevor scrambled to his feet and padded slowly towards the open cell, glancing back to give the two other boys a half wave as a forced goodbye before walking out. silently he followed behind the officer who had shown him nothing but kindness, through the station, taking mental notes of every person he passed praying that he would be met with your face at some point. you had to be here. you had to have changed your mind and decided to come and pick him up, otherwise how was he getting released? biting his lip he began to fidget with his fingers as officer collins opened the door to the front lobby, and what he thought would be his breath of relief turned into his worst nightmare as he came face-to-face with his younger brother. “you’re not y/n,” he breathed, voice raked with nothing but sadness. “how did - griffin?” he then asked, completely bewildered by his younger brothers presence. he knew he should’ve been grateful. he no longer had to wait out an unnnecassary stay in the prison cell, but he couldn't help the way his heartached inside his chest while meeting his brothers stoic expression as tears began to slid down his sunskissed cheeks. “y/n, she didn’t come. i thought-” he cut himself off by clearing his throat and reaching up to wipe away the tears before they fell faster than he could stop. “nevermind, it - it doesn’t matter. let’s go home griff.” and just like that he tried his hardest to bottle up his emotions once again. mind racing to think of the next time he could get his hands on a case of beer.

m/n l/n sat quietly outside of your closed bedroom door. ear pressed against the white wood as she silently cried to herself over the heartbreak and turmoil her only child was going through. the wooden door had muffled the sounds of your father’s quiet voice, but she could still hear the combination of guilt and melancholy that was spoken with every word as he tried to reassure you that you were worthy of self forgiveness. that you weren’t the horrible person you had thought you were. she also knew that while he words were directed at you, he was speaking to himself as well. because deep down she knew your father still held guilt for putting their relationship on pause, and thought because of his actions when he was your age, this was the world’s karma by creating a similar situation with his daughter. your mother could never truly understand the pain the both of you felt, which is why she sat outside your bedroom praying to herself that you would take your father’s advice to forgive yourself. praying that after all this time he would finally forgive himself.

“y/n,” your dad whispered with a broken smile, “i’m going to be completley honest with you sweetheart. while i don’t believe you’ve been a horrible person these past three years, i can’t give you the answers that you’re looking for.” your bloodshot e/c eyes snapped over to him within seconds. he squeezed your hands lovingly before he pulled his e/c away from your own. “i still haven’t figured out how to forgive myself for leaving your mother all those years ago. i wish i could help you the way that you need me now, but i - i don’t have the answers. because i don’t think-” he let out a solemn sigh before looking back over at you with tears in his own eyes. “i don’t think we would’ve found our way back to each other if it weren’t for that night in the emergency room. every time i tried to work up the courage to call her, i panicked. i wouldn’t allow myself to stop dwelling on the pain that i had caused her for that year apart from each other. the exact same thing you’re doing by not allowing trevor back into your live - because you can’t stop thinking about the pain you caused him. but sweetheart,” he explained with wisdom only a father would have, “this chance you have to let him back into your life? it may not come again, so it’s up to you to decide what you want to do with it before it’s too late. and you’ll know, deep down in that giant heart of yours, whether you love him enough to forgive yourself, or if you’re going to hold one mistake over your head for the rest of your life as it passes you by.”

you forced a laugh as you stared over at him and processed his tough love words. “if i knew you weren’t right i would be so mad at you right now, dad,” you confessed as you dropped your head against his shoulder. his own finding it’s place on top of yours. there was a long beat of silence before you decided to speak again. “i’m happy you were in the er that night, dad. you and mom are my idolization of love, and i just, if it hadn’t worked out for the two of you i wouldn’t have anything to believe in.”

this time a sad chuckle passed by his lips before he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, “kid, if it didn’t work out for your mom and me, my greatest blessing in life wouldn’t be sitting right here next to me.”

the silence was louder than any music that girffin could’ve been chosen to play. trevor was turned to face away from his younger brother, head pressed against the glass window once again. his sliding down against it while he tried to hide his face. “so,” griffin finally worked the courage to speak, “do you want to tell me what happened that you ended up in prison and were expecting y/n to pick you up?”

taking a breath trevor turned to face his fears which were currently in the form of explaining his downfalls to his younger brother. “it’s a long story, griff,” he whispered, reaching up to wipe away his tears once again. “one we don’t have the time for, and i’m not ready to relive.”

scoffing griffin pulled the car over on the side of the road. “we have nothing but time, trevor!” he yelled, voice cracking as he did so. “now, i deserve an explanation as to why ava and i had to go and pick up the groceries from the middle of a parking lot. an explanation on why you ended up in prison! why you’re nose is broken, and your knuckles are beaten to shit. please, trevor, i’m your little brother, and i’m scared.” that’s when the tears started to fall down his own cheeks. “you’re scaring me. you’re scaring ava. mom, dad. so at the very least, i deserve an explanation. because three years ago you weren’t the only person who lost y/n. i lost her too. we all lost her. what we didn’t expect was losing you too.”

the silence was so loud that both trevor and griffin heard the sound of trevor’s heart shattering into the pit of his stomach.

“you’re right,” trevor cried while meeting his brother’s stare for the first time since getting in the car. “you guys lost y/n, just like i did, and you didn’t deserve to watch me fall apart as you have for the past three summers.” his mouth went dry as he thought of what he could possibly say next, and what his brother needed to hear in order to correct his mistakes. “but you have, and it isn’t fair. none of this is fair, because life - life like to fucking kick your ass. so i’ll tell you, but only you, griff. you can’t go running to tell ava, or mom, or dad. only you.”

the younger brother nodded his head instantly, forcing himself to stop crying to be strong for his brother. “start wherever, i’m listening, trev.”

taking a deep breath trevor steadied his nerves and started his story with the end. “i gave y/n’s name as my emergency call.”

----

taking a deep breath you could feel as your world began to spiral out once again like it had two nights prior. since you’d hung up on trevor, you had listened to your father’s advice and taken the past two days to think about things once more. to see them in a different light despite how much your head told you it was wrong, in your heart you knew it was time. so after listening to his voicemail one more time, you had made up your mind. it was second nature as you started to dial his phone number, not wasting time to find his nameless contact.

picking at your nails you waited anxiously as the dial tone played in your ears.

it went through once.

then twice.

finally, a third time before your call was connected.

and with a shaky breath, you breathed out his name for both you to hear. “trevor?”

869 notes · View notes

eldragon-x · 3 months

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🐊 krook 🔁 krook

🐊 krook

I don't remember following this Pokemon, they keep posting mushy inspirational screenshots and quotes

🐊 krook

they were previously rottenworld? I see how it is. another idiot falling into the trap of telling yourself everything will be fine and the world is worthwile. im so sick of this. soon you will all see the ugly truth

2 Notes 💬🔁🤍

🍎 guildmaster-wigglytuff 🔁 kingofdarkness

🌑 kingofdarkness

Another successful day of working in Team Teal! ^_^ Funfact: I learned today that the team name was inspired by the color of the glow of the Time Gears ⚙️ My team mates were hesitant to tell me more about it though.

🍎 guildmaster-wigglytuff

That's great, Darkrai! TOOM-YAH!

5 Notes 💬🔁❤️

#guild associates #motivation #funfacts

🍃 paradise-virizion 🔁 lopunnycharm

💗 lopunnycharm

Reblog this if you support trapping Pokemon in ruins! ✨

2.575 Notes 💬🔁🤍

🤡 paradise-emolga 🔁 lake-guardian

⚙️ lake-guardian Follow

Pokemon are upset at me for including Team Charm on the list of explorers with issues. I'm sorry but you can't brush off their actions as "girlbossing". I promise you there are other admirable female dungeon treaders you can support, like Octillery or Virizion.

1.933 Notes 💬🔁🤍

#wait I need to do something funny

🍃 paradise-virizion

Having a moment, but I don't think I could ever express enough how much joining an adventure team has helped me. I was at a real lowpoint when I became a part of Team Scales and would reject everyone around me but thanks to them, I learned to open up and trust in other Pokemon again.

7 Notes 💬🔁❤️

#delete later

🌈 chasingafterhope

Sorry for my recent inactivity, I've been busy getting in touch with some old friends and moving to Air Continent. I don't know if I'm ever gonna start posting regularly again, might abandon this blog altogether, but I'm glad Pokemon appreciate it. Have a nice day!

360 Notes 💬🔁❤️

#personal #madoka tag

🪦 dustnoir 🔁 forest-clock

🏅 expedition-society-official Follow

its been really dire lately if i'm honest. legendary pokemon all over the world are turning to stone and we still have no idea who could be behind it and im very worried for the kids here. i dont know why ampharos thought it would be a good idea to let them join i just feel like everythings getting worse

🏅 expedition-society-official Follow

wrong blog

🌺 forest-clock Follow

Time traveller here! It will pass but you have to make it through The Voidlands first 👍

485 Notes 💬🔁❤️

#predictions #future posting #dark matter incident #friend tag #reblog #expedition-society-official

#unreality #long post #pmd on tumblr #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon

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flowerandblood · 6 months

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The Prince and The Fox (2)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: bullying, mention of sexual abuse, trauma ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist. Songs used in this chapter: Turn Your Back on me & The Lion's Mouth by Kajagoogoo and Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night she slept very badly. Her parents asked why she had come back so early and if she had enjoyed herself. She burst out crying, unaccustomed to lying, and told them what had happened.

Her father was furious, stormed out of the house and made her show him which boy had nagged and touched her. She begged him to let it go, Cregan had been away from the party for a long time, they had gone somewhere with friends.

Her father said he wouldn't leave it like that and demanded to speak to Aemond. The next morning she appeared, accompanied by her father, at their house, embarrassed, her father explaining what had happened. Their mother was shocked by what she had heard.

She, her father, Alicent, Aegon, Aemond and Helaena sat down in the living room to talk about it.

"What? God, I swear, Mum, I didn't know Cregan would do something like that!" Mumbled Aegon, shocked at what had happened, Helaena was distraught and sat beside her, stroking her hand. Aemond looked at her, some kind of understanding in his eyes.

He felt that she had done the right thing telling her parents about it.

"Aemond, my daughter told me that you stopped him and stood up for her. I am very grateful to you and I want to ask you, if his parents insisted that it was word against word, will you be able to confirm what she said?" Her father asked, and he nodded without hesitation, tightening his lips.

"Yes. It was exactly as she said. I heard him tell his mates at school during break that he was planning to fuck her here at the party." He said in shame, lowering his gaze, his mother shaking her head in disbelief, slapping her hands on her thighs in a gesture of helplessness and rage.

"And you kept silent?" She asked with disappointment and pain. He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard, overwhelmed apparently by remorse.

She felt her stomach tighten at the thought that he really hadn't meant to stop then, that he could have done something much worse to her.

Aemond lifted a gaze full of pain and shame at her.

"I-I thought he was just bragging to his mates and... I don't know, that you're into each other. That maybe you want this too. That he's actually a good guy and wouldn't do anything to you against your will. But when I saw your face when he started touching your thigh on the couch, that look of discomfort, I…" He said in a slightly trembling voice and paused, looking her straight in the eye.

She swallowed hard, understanding what he wanted to say.

He didn't expect it from him either.

She nodded, feeling warm in her heart nonetheless at the thought that he had followed them out to see if anything would happen to her.

If he would hurt her.

She covered her face with her hand, her father put his arm around her and stroked her tenderly.

"It's good that you spoke about it, sweetheart. You can't leave it like that." Alicent said, nodding her head. Suddenly she clapped her hands as if she remembered something.

"The cameras! Our security company keeps footage for 48 hours. We also have one in the garden in case of a break-in, why don't I call them and ask them to send us the video from yesterday? We'll check if we can see anything on it." She suggested, her father said it was an excellent idea.

She lowered her head, terrified that her father and others would be able to see it, that perhaps on the video it wouldn't look like sexual assault at all.

After all, she had hugged him herself.

They waited impatiently by Alicent's laptop, sitting down and glancing at her inbox, the security company employee who was in charge of her equipment said he would try to send her the footage within fifteen minutes.

They all flinched and moved closer as a new message appeared with a video file. She swallowed loudly, terrified, ashamed, feeling a tightening in her stomach and throat, afraid that it didn't look at all like she said it did, that everyone would think she was lying, that they would never believe her again.

She felt herself shaking, her knee moving up and down in an involuntary tic. She shuddered when she heard someone put a chair next to her, Aemond sat down touching her with his knees and shoulders, placing his elbows on the table, leaning over the monitor.

"It was about ten o'clock at night, Mum. I remember because by the time I left the clock was striking the hour in the living room." He said lowly, and Alicent quickly ran the cursor to that hour and turned on the accelerator a few times.

"Oh okay, mum, it's them, I can see Cregan!" Said Aegon, leaning between them, turning off the acceleration. Alicent pressed the spacebar, stopping the video.

"Do you want everyone to watch this?" She asked her quietly. She looked around and thought, in essence, that she recognised that these were people she trusted, who she hoped cared about her.

She nodded, swallowing hard.

Alicent pressed play.

The camera was up high and part of the bench was obscured by the canopy, their faces not visible. She saw them sit down, saw his arm around her, stroking her hand for a moment. She felt a cold sweat on her back as she saw his fingers lift higher and higher, heard Aegon and his mother draw in a loud breath as his hand slid under her dress.

Her father covered his mouth, heartbroken when he saw her hand immediately clamp down on his wrist in a clear gesture of defence, her whole body tense, it was obvious she was trying to pull away, to push back, to escape, and instead of letting her go he pressed her tighter against him.

She felt tears under her eyelids and lowered her head, not knowing where to look, she felt Aemond press his body closer to hers, felt his breath on the top of her head, felt him looking at her.

"− Jesus −" Muttered Aegon in disbelief, running a hand over his face. "− fucking piece of shit −"

Then they could already see Cregan and Aemond struggling with each other, her sitting down on the grass and crying, Aemond crouching down beside her and putting his arms around her, saying something to her.

The footage had no sound, but what could be seen on it was enough to clearly understand what had happened.

Her father got up and said he needed to get some air for a while and smoke a cigarette. Alicent followed him out, apparently wanting to work out what they were going to do, whether to report it to the police or not.

She felt Helaena's warm embrace, felt her lay her head on her shoulder and hugged her immediately, Aegon and Aemond looked at them in silence.

"− I'm sorry − fuck − if I had known, I would never have invited him! − I saw you two cuddling on the couch in the living room, but God, I thought you two were just in love − that, I don't know, you're together, just unofficially yet −" He mumbled, and she swallowed loudly, rubbing her eyes, trying to pull herself together.

"− please, Aegon − it's not your fault − you didn't do anything wrong − don't worry, I won't tell anyone about the alcohol −" She said quietly, tiredly, and he sighed heavily, scratching his head, clearly distraught that something like this had happened at his own party.

Aemond said nothing, fiddling with his mug of already half-cold coffee, it seemed to her that he hadn't slept well that night either.

Her father had decided that they would drive with this recording to his parents.

She was horrified.

"I will go with you." Aemond said, and her father nodded.

They drove there together in their car with Alicent's laptop. They sat side by side in the back seat, she saw that he was pulling at the cuticles around his fingernails again, she noticed with pain that he had actual wounds around them.

When he saw in the reflection in the window that she was looking at him he stopped immediately and swallowed loudly, lowering his gaze.

He was stressed too.

When they arrived a surprised Mrs Stark opened the door for them, asking who they were and what had happened.

"I would like to talk to you about your son."

She, Aemond and her father sat on the couch on one side and Cregan and his parents on the other as her father played them the video. Cregan was pale, sitting with his arms folded, feigning indifference, his knee shaking restlessly, he was biting his lower lip, his eyes red.

He was terrified.

His mother made big eyes when she saw the moment he slipped his hand under her dress and looked at him with disbelief mixed with pain. His father snorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"And what, are you going to go to the police? Destroy a young boy's life because he made a mistake, because his hormones are raging?" He asked as if it was a trivial matter, a complete nothing. She felt the rage surge in her father.

"Because of your son's hormones, he can act like a mindless monkey and grope girls who don't want him to?" He hissed, his father raising his eyebrows, pointing at her with his hand.

"Please, forgive me, but from what I can see in this video your daughter was pushing herself into his arms, after all he could have misunderstood her…"

"Mark." Said his wife, clearly not believing what she was hearing, pale.

Her father stood up, pointing his finger at her.

"My child came home crying because someone molested her. He only stopped because her classmate went out into the garden. And what would your son do if no one helped her, hm? How long would he hold her while she tried to break free?" He thundered furiously on the verge of tears, she had never seen him like this before.

She just sat on the couch, looking at her shoes, shaking all over, feeling that her biggest nightmare had just taken place in front of her eyes.

Please, forgive me, but from what I can see in this video your daughter was pushing herself into his arms.

Mr Stark raised his hands in a defensive gesture as if to show that his aim was not to argue or escalate the conflict.

"I admit, my son acted unwisely. He misread the girl's signals and behaved badly. We will be watching him more closely in this area. Is that all?" He asked, and her father closed the laptop with a loud slam and growled to them that they were leaving.

She stood up and cast one last look in Cregan's direction, he was looking at her with a hatred she had never seen in her life before.

She burst into sobs as soon as they got into the car, her father comforting her loudly telling her not to cry, that they were driving to the police station.

"No, no, please, no!" She whimpered, leaning forward, grabbing his arm, her father looked at her in the mirror.

"What?"

"I can't do it, I can't do it anymore. I… stop, I think I'm going to throw up." She mumbled, her father stopped with a squeal of tyres. She got out and immediately vomited on the grass, coughing and crying, feeling her stomach convulse in pain.

She heard them both get out of the car, her father put his arms around her saying that everything would be fine, Aemond stood beside them not knowing what to do with himself, not knowing how to behave.

The next few days at school were extremely difficult for her. Some of her friends and acquaintances were shocked and horrified, giving her their complete support and understanding, saying they were disappointed by Cregan's behaviour.

However, others thought that she was simply lying.

"Attention whore." One of his friends growled, hitting her on the shoulder with his arm as he walked past her.

She saw that someone had scratched the word 'liar' on her locker standing in the corridor. She looked at it indifferently, then opened it as if nothing had happened and exchanged the books she needed with the ones she could put away.

This time he was the one looking at her.

She felt his gaze on her back in the classroom, in the corridor, as she sat at the bus stop looking at her shoes.

For some reason, even though she was alive and everything was going on, she felt dead.

She couldn't erase his touch from her mind.

She sat on the bus in total reverie, occupying the seat at the back by the window, sitting in her earphones, listening recently to nothing but Kajagoogoo songs, 'Too shy', 'Turn Your Back On Me', 'Ooh to Be Ah', 'The Lion's Mouth' looped on her player.

Their electronic sound and the wonderful bass guitar in the background energised her when she had no strength and couldn't rouse herself.

She had just listened to 'Turn Your Back On Me' for the second time since the morning when she felt someone sit down next to her.

She glanced to the side and spotted a black sweatshirt, familiar hands clicking something on his phone, apparently pausing the song he had just listened to on his player, she saw that it was 'Welcome to the Jungle' by Guns N' Roses. She pulled down one earpiece, looking at him in surprise.

"What are you listening to?" He asked, pulling on the cord of his black earphones, which dropped gently onto his lap with a quiet click.

She handed him her earphone, which he took from her, placing it in his left ear, moving a little closer to her so that there was enough cable for both of them. He mused, listening.

"Interesting." He muttered lowly, glancing at her player.

"Kajagoogoo." She said quietly, going into the track list so he could see what their songs were called.

"Nice bass." He admitted, as if surprised by this discovery himself. She nodded and closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, just sinking into the sound of the music.

He listened to the songs of her favourite band with her until they reached the school.

When the bus stopped he handed her back her earpiece, their hands touched. They looked at each other, for the first time so closely. He picked up his backpack and rose, trying not to hit his head on the low ceiling and walked out in front of her, no longer paying attention to her.

She walked through the corridor of her school listening to "The Lion's Mouth", trying not to pay attention to whether anyone was looking at her or not, focusing on the words of the song, staring blankly ahead.

Hey fool watch out! (Watch out) You'll get mauled by the lion's mouth -

Hey fool watch out! (Watch out) You'll get mauled by the lion's mouth (I don't think so) -

Hey fool watch out! (Watch out) You'll get mauled by the lion's mouth -

The music suddenly stopped when someone tripped her up. She wobbled and fell over, collapsing on the floor, her earphones falling out of her ears. She lifted herself up on her arms and turned over her shoulder, noticing Cregan's hateful stare.

A moment later, several things happened at the same time. Aemond who threw him to the floor, pounding his face with his fist, holding his sweatshirt, growling that he was a fucking piece of shit, a mere abuser, a nobody, a zero.

His colleagues and teachers had to separate them, Cregan spat blood on the floor.

She felt someone grab her shoulders, Helaena stood over her, looking at her in horror.

"Are you all right?"

She sat in her classroom terrified, glancing anxiously over her shoulder at the empty seat in the bench he sat in, knowing that he and Cregan had ended up at the headmaster's office.

That he was in trouble because of her, that he could be suspended because of her.

She shuddered when she heard the sound of the door opening and saw him step inside, the teacher paused his reasoning for a moment and grunted, returning to the subject of the lesson.

Aemond walked over to his bench without a word, not looking at her, and sat down in his chair, pulling off his backpack, taking out his textbooks and notebook, giving her one calm look.

She pulled her phone quickly from her sweatshirt pocket, reminding herself that she had his phone number, and quickly texted him.

She heard his phone vibrate on his bench. She sat looking ahead, feeling her heart pounding hard.

After a moment, the display of her phone lying on her thighs lit up and she saw that she had received a new message. She opened it quickly, feeling a tightness in her throat.

She turned towards him over her shoulder, his lips curving into a grin. She smiled gratefully at him and breathed quietly, turning ahead, trying to finally focus on what her teacher was talking about.

Boarding the bus after class, she dared to sit next to him. They looked at each other, he watched as she untangled her earphones and plugged them into her phone. She saw him pull his own off and pause his player.

"Are you going to listen to that band with weird name again?" He asked lowly and she nodded, smiling at him.

He held out his hand to her and she handed him her earpiece, this time with her left hand, turning on 'The Lion's Mouth'.

"This is my favourite." She admitted with a smile, feeling calm for some reason, her stomach filled with warmth.

"Mmm." He hummed, their elbows resting against each other lying on their armrest, however neither of them seemed to mind.

She understood then.

The Little Prince took a step towards the Fox of his free will.

She smiled under her breath.

He wanted her to tame him.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

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alicerosejensen · 5 days

Note

I love your page so much omg. I‘m literally obsessed with your work😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Also I have this imagination in my mind going on about how Leon would try to help his girlfriend from recovering from her mental health issues since she’s always helping him. I was recently thinking about how he would react finding her not moving on the bathroom floor and trying to bring her back! I rewatched American horror stories and the scene with tate and violet in the first season episode 6 (ig?) is always in my head. I‘m still recovering from my past and my unhealthy habits and tbh recovery never felt better.

If this is too much for you or triggering please ignore this.🫶🏼❤️

I had a terrible period in my life when I was a few steps away from doing something like this in my life and unfortunately this shit often comes out. I'm not sure that such texts help me work through my psychological traumas, which were, in fact, inflicted on me and continue to be inflicted by close people who do not consider me a person, but at least such works help me to vent my pain, which I cannot permanently bury in myself.

I have been postponing this request for a long time because I was probably waiting for the right moment to write this text.

There are mentions of suicide, psychological trauma, severe self-doubt and anxiety, so if this is not acceptable to you, then please just block it.

Perhaps there is a similarity with my previous texts, but I am writing this with strong emotions now that I am trying to cope with it again.

the text is chaotic, I repeat, written while I was under the influence of strong heavy emotions. Maybe I'll delete it later, when my brain gets back to normal a little bit.

If a songbird doesn't sing well, they wring its neck.

Maybe it was the costs of Leon's profession and the result of his constant missions, after which something human is gradually dying in him despite the constant struggle to save everyone. Raccoon City was supposed to teach, if not to survive, then make him begin to understand that some are doomed to die.

Leon Kennedy was taught not to offend, but to protect the weak, especially weak women. But it is difficult to calm the flow of disordered thoughts and put aside the fear that has seized him in order to clamp bloody wrists and apply something to them to stop the blood. Leon knew many strong women: Ada was perhaps the first among them, he did not know either her past or her real name, only the present that pushed their foreheads against each other; Claire, a fighting friend of misfortune that he met in that ill-fated city; Ashley, who turned from a baby eagle into a proud eagle; Angela Miller and others…

Your strength dissolves in the water, coloring it scarlet while your heart stubbornly still beats, let the rhythm noticeably shorten.

In truth, over the past few months it became clear that this was the only way out. When even your loved ones considered you an expired product and did not hesitate to remember this and remind you every time. In the end, their words turned into an obsessive worm that settled in your head, slowly day after day, month after month, devouring you and the circumstances seemed to be not in your favor. Instead of support, you somehow faced reproach, as if the universe was screaming that you were an wrong person, nature's mistake who had no right to live.

Escape attempts were doomed to failure. At first you tried to suppress it in yourself, helping Leon, because, in your opinion, he was the only one who had the right to complain about life, although he did not do this in front of you, because everyone said that you had no problems: you have everything limbs, there are no fatal diseases, all loved ones are healthy and there is a roof over your head, as if this is enough to not fall for nonsense and not walk around forever with a sad face.

This was the last time you shared your experiences. You didn’t even bother telling Leon, but everything inside was torn from constant pain. The feeling was as if you were being beaten by two extremes that led you to the edge of an abyss where you ultimately voluntarily jumped.

no, you really loved him, it was just other people’s words and your own speculation that convinced you, despite your strong relationship with him, that Leon would find someone better, someone more confident in himself, someone who would not be you because you had already missed the chance for a good life because it moved too slowly. Ultimately, a couple of sips of alcohol with sleeping pills and a sharp blade in his hands simply promised to correct the mistake in the form of you with your own hands.

You didn't have the courage to do it any other way.

But you really didn’t think that if you could try to open up to your loved one, you would meet support and not condemnation. Perhaps in a mad world he would be the only one who would heal your wounds as you healed him in your time. Leon clenched his teeth, feeling tears flowing down cheeks, seeing these crimson stains, when he pulled your body out of the bath, holding you close to him, repeating “I’m holding you. It's allright"

He so carefully laid you on his lap, managing to pull out a first aid kit and then bandages to tightly, albeit carelessly, wrap them around your wrist in order to somehow stop the bleeding. At least you were still breathing, thereby giving him hope that everything could still be fixed. the darkness and emptiness came to life, calling in a whisper to dissolve into eternal silence where there is no pain or condemnation. Your body will be in a grave under a gray stone, while the remains of your soul will float like a small grain of sand in infinity.

For Leon, everything happens in a fog; he tried more than once to save people, but he had no right to lose in this battle, even if you yourself surrendered to death. Shaking his head, brushing away the tears, he wrapped your body in a large terry towel, kissed your temple and picked you up, trying to somehow warm you, pressing you closer to him. the ability to provide first aid in the field and pull suicides out of the other world is not the same thing. Leon would have thanked God if he had believed in him, convinced that blood loss was the least of the evils that you had caused yourself, until he saw the remains of some substance at the bottom of the glass that stood on the table along with an almost full bottle of alcohol.

You really didn't give him a chance.

The ambulance took several minutes, which seemed like an eternity. In fact, Leon wasn't sure if it was worth trying to make you vomit when you'd already lost so much blood that it was already seeping through the bandages. Surely you would need a transfusion and Leon is ready to give you all his blood if only you would wake up. Holding his breath, he carefully looked at your chest, watching whether you were breathing and fortunately, your heart was still beating, slowly, but it was still fighting for life.

He stroked you on the head, kissed you, promised that he would take you somewhere else, quiet, where no one would dare to offend you, even if it was your family. You could have just asked him for help, just cuddled up to him and he would have protected you from other people’s attacks, but you preferred to remain silent. Kennedy was tired of waiting for the medical staff to let him in, although relatives should be allowed to see the patient first, but the position of a government agent sometimes had its advantages, and they concerned not only the high salary. When he was let in to you, it seemed to him that you had become half your size while you were lying on the bed, curled up under the blanket. It didn’t work out to pull off a beautiful suicide, which meant that soon angry relatives would come here with new sweat of bile especially for you. They won’t care about your feelings, but Leon sat down next to you, trying not to intrude too much into the space in which you imprisoned yourself, as if this blanket cocoon could be a separate world where you could hide. He spoke to you carefully, hating himself for not being able to understand in time what was wrong with your behavior; perhaps if he had been more attentive to you, the incident could have been avoided. You would see a psychotherapist, take a course of medication, and your environment would definitely be taken care of.

You cry, not letting him come to you, hating how you weren't just left to die and how much you hate this world. Hysteria after hysteria, nervous breakdown after nervous breakdown, in the hospital you repeatedly tried to commit suicide, but the attentive staff managed to prevent this before you inflicted fatal injuries on yourself, and if after some time Leon still managed to carefully break through your armor, then your loved ones This did not concern relatives in principle. You only allowed one person to visit you while you were undergoing psychological treatment and you behaved calmer and calmer, listening to the velvety words that soon all this would be behind you.

“We’ll go home soon,” Leon smiled, gently holding your hand and kissing your forehead, just glad that you’re alive, that you’re breathing and that your psycho-emotional state is slowly but improving. “You know, I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll like it when we get home.”

Soon what happened will become another nightmare in his life, a blessing with a good ending, but for the sake of this happy ending, Kennedy is ready to descend into hell at least every day.

You nod at him and smile a little, fearing that the gift is some kind of party on the occasion of your discharge. In fact, the last thing you want is to see someone’s faces, especially those who diligently hammered into your head how insignificant you are. Why do you even hope that the doctor will postpone your discharge, but the plans for your further treatment were completely different.

On the other hand, after taking antidepressants and psychological help in a special medical institution, how many men are ready to stay with their girlfriends who have been there for several months? For Leon, it seems this was not a significant problem, or he simply carefully did not show it. However, there were no parties, no calls, you simply returned now to his home where there were new interior items. it became somehow more comfortable... but something else surprised you.

Puppy. A small puppy of a couple of months old ran towards you and Leon to meet both of them, but stopped and began sniffing your shoes, while something thawed in your heart.

“Animals seem to help us well, They feel when we feel bad, it seems to me a good idea to get us a little companion,” Leon said quietly, stroking your back while you were busy with the puppy, rejoicing at the little living soul who will love you with the same pure and devoted love.

Ultimately it should have a happy ending too. Leon is ready to go to great lengths so that his beloved songbird starts smiling and singing happy songs again, even if it is necessary to remove other birds from her family who sleep and see how to pluck all her wings again.

You and he also have a chance for a happy ending.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy resident evil #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #resident evil leon

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cosmal · 1 year

Text

𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

note — this is for @sparklingsin spookinktober!! it was queued to be posted on halloween but tumblr deleted it!! so I had to rewrite it :((( so I'm sorry that this is so late and so terrible!! I tried my best to rewrite it like it was fr. i do genuinely hate this now, i’m sorry.

summary — eddie comes back after a week and sees you in your angel costume. he has to fuck you right then and there.

warnings/tags — fem!afab!reader, she/her pronouns, smut, mdni, piv, fingering, needy!reader

wc — 1.8k

“Steve, have you seen Eddie yet?” You stand on your tiptoes to get closer to his face, leaning over the breakfast bar that separates the two of you.

Steve probably yells too eagerly. The music is loud, but you’re not exactly far away, “Y/N like I said fifteen minutes ago, he’ll be here at 9 o’clock.”

“What’s the time?” You laugh. Winding Steve up is always fun.

Steve sighs like he’s annoyed. You know he’s really not, “8:45.”

“Awesome. I’m gonna go sit on the couch until he gets here.” You tell him before spinning on your heels. The feathers of your angel wings tickle his face as you turn and Steve wrinkles his nose.

“I’m sure you will, Y/N!” he calls before you turn the corner.

And you do exactly that. You’ve waited for Eddie to get back all week, what’s fifteen more minutes? By the time Eddie arrives, the wiry angel wings on your back have grown a little itchy. You’d take them off if you weren’t excited to show Eddie your costume.

Picking at a loose thread on your frilly, white skirt, you don’t even notice the pair of knees in ripped, black denim, hovering over your own. Eddie leans forward to nudge your leg with his and you startle.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie does that signature smile of his, it almost fries your brain and you forget to react.

“Oh my god, Eds!” It’s a blur of feathers when you leap from the small couch. Pushing your arms over his shoulders and leaning your whole weight into him. He almost topples when he wraps his own arms around your back. “Eddie,”

Eddie’s mouth finds its home in the juncture of your neck like it always does, breathing in your lost scene and pressing his lips to your skin. “Y/N.”

He pulls away, but not before you give him one last squeeze, holding you out at arm's length. “God, baby. You look so fucking hot,” he groans.

You turn your hips until your skirt swishes, “You think?”

Eddie reaches around to fiddle with one of the feathers, smoothing it out between his thumb and pointer. “Shit, yeah.”

“Where’s your costume?” you ask, poking him in the chest until he rocks on the balls of his feet. Heavy boots thump along with the bass of the music.

“I’m in it,” he laughs.

“Yeah?”

Eddie swishes like you did but the only thing that moves is his leather jacket that stiffly flaps around his waist, “Yeah. Your boyfriend.”

You roll your eyes like you’re actually not amused by his answer, “You wear that every day.”

“Well, you haven’t seen me in it for an entire week.” He leans in to peck your cheek. Twice for good measure. You grasp his jacket in firm hands and hold him close.

You hum, “Yeah. Missed you.”

Eddie leans in again to snake his arms around to give your ass a squeeze, bunching your skirt in his hands. You’ve forgotten where you are for a moment when he says, “Wanna show me how much you missed me?”

Pretending to act like you don’t want Eddie more than anything at this moment would be harder than telling him exactly what you want — so you don’t. You run a hand down his chest, over the cotton of his shirt, feeling the bumps and divots tentatively until your reach his waist. Hooking a finger around a belt loop to tug him closer.

“I think I do.” you smile.

Eddie groans, “Shit,”

You can’t even pretend to be surprised at how quickly it takes Eddie to drag you to the nearest bathroom. His insatiable need has you giggling the entire way there. Pushing through strangers and ignoring the pointed look Robin shoots you from the bottom of the stairs.

Once you’re inside, Eddie fumbles with the lock on the door while you tug at his free arm, “C’mon, Eds,” you whine.

Eddie cheers when he gets the door to lock, turning to lift you up and onto the basin. The ceramics are cold where it touches the bare skin on your legs and you gasp. Eddie is quick to catch any noise with his mouth when he leans in to kiss you.

“Fuck,” kiss, “angel,” kiss, “you look so hot.”

Your laughter peels from within you and you’re huffing into his mouth, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to be showing you how much I missed you.”

He pulls away to lift your skirt up so it pools around your waist, tugging your panties down until they stretch over your knees, “Just sit there looking all pretty, that’s enough for me, baby.”

Eddie lets you do as you please, placing a firm grip to stable yourself on his shoulders when he traces the tip of his finger up your slit. Grazing down to your entrance to gather the slick that’s already begun to pool on the counter.

“So messy,” he coos, exploring with his finger to push through your pudgy folds, “Missed this pussy, angel.”

You lean forward to press the top of your head into his shoulder, wrapping a hand around his bicep. When he finally slips a finger inside you, you let out the tiniest gasp and your hand tightens in its grip until the leather of his jacket squeaks.

You angle your head up to leave a line of lazy kisses along his neck. Your hot breath and tiny gasps are a whisper against Eddie’s skin. He pushes a second finger in, now middle and marriage, and you hiccup against his skin. Eddie pushes in further, determined to get you to make more pretty noises that get him all worked up.

“Eds,” you pant uselessly. More tiny gasps.

“Y/N,” he almost mocks, exploring deeper inside your weeping hole. Slick traces down his palm and threatens to dirty his sleeve. If Eddie has ever cared about that, he’s never shown it.

You rock your hips against the bench to try and get closer to his hand, his palm pushing into your clit. The stickiness of his thumb and pinky thudding against your skin echo in the tiny bathroom.

Eddie can sense your neediness, “Slow down, baby.”

You grip the hair around the base of his neck which only causes him to groan out. “Need,” you pant.

“What d‘you need, hmm?” Eddie asks, pulling back to check you over. Using his free hand to brush the hair from your eyes. You blink at him slowly.

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please.” Your eyes are terribly pleading and Eddie stills, deep-seated inside you. “Missed you- need you, Eds.”

Eddie can see you working yourself up and kisses you on the highest part of your cheek. Pulling his hand from you he says, “Yeah? Need my cock?”

“Please.”

“You’re so, very polite,” he coos.

There’s a metal zzz of his zipper unravelling and the shushing of his jeans being pushed down just below his ass, before he’s tugging at his cock with familiarity. A familiarity that has your stomach aching.

Eddie wraps his wet hand around the fat of your thigh to tug you closer to the edge of the basin and you yelp, bracing yourself on his chest.

Once you’re close enough, the ruddy tip of his cock presses into your clit and you jolt, head lulling into the juncture of his neck. Eddie wraps his arms around your back and holds you close, dotting kisses over your clavicle. His teeth scrape and nip playfully until goosebumps raise your skin.

“Ready?” he asks as he runs his cock down your slit to line up with your entrance.

“Uh-“ you stutter, wrapping your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together, “Uh-huh.”

Eddie sinks in and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. “That’s it,” he groans, breath trembling, “Fuck.”

You squeeze him closer like it’s possible and gasp when the air is forced from your lungs at the proximity. Your hands tremble around stiff leather and your hips ache when he rocks in to the hilt. Filling you completely.

“Ah — Eddie,” you gasp, harder when he’s rocking in stronger.

Eddie starts to move, slow and tentatively, rolling his hips into your wet heat. Spreading your legs further apart and your underwear slips down onto the floor.

“Please,” you plead, “harder.” You dig your knees into his side.

Eddie grips your thigh to hold it up and closer to him and when he feels as if he’s not hitting the right angle, he hooks his arms under both of your legs to lift you from the counter.

Gasping, you sink down onto him, keeping your arms and ankles hooked around his body.

Eddie moves to grasp at your ass, squeezing fat between his fingers to keep you upright. Lifting you up and you help him settle back down until you find a perfect rhythm.

“So,” Eddie grunts, hard to be heard over the sounds of skin slapping and your pitched-up moans. You’re also lucky the music outside is loud enough to muffle anything. “so wet, sweetheart.”

You hum what sounds like an uh-huh, trying your best to meet his movements. Eddie’s grip is tight and it stings. Pain turns to pleasure when he starts to hit the spongy spot deep inside you.

Eddie’s doing his best to fuck you onto him. Especially when your pelvis burns and your arms ache, going limp against his frame.

His grunts mix in with your Ah ah ah’s, Eddie has no free hands to smother your noises so he plants his lips to yours, catching any sounds.

“Eddie,” you say against his lips, hot and wet, “M’gonna…”

“Cum f’me, baby,” he says, speeding up.

When he’s repeatedly hitting your sweet spot at the perfect rhythm, the coil in your core snaps, bleeding through your abdomen until you’re clamping around Eddie—tensing up in his hold.

Weak and panty, Eddie throws you back down to the basin, hips stuttering inside you.

“Fuck, where can I?”

“Inside,” you say. No, beg.

“You sure?” he groans.

You nod your head, clamping your twitching walls around him and that’s all it takes. Dragging, now slowly through your gummy heat, his own cum sobbing from your hole when he’s finished.

He’s pulling out, slowly when he watches your face crumple, keeping your legs hooked around his sides. Placing a wet kiss against your damp hairline, he says, “That was amazing- You’re amazing.”

“I know,” you grin, resting your legs down until your knees click.

“Mmm,” he kisses you again, “M’never leaving for that long, ever again.”

“Never,” you agree.

There’s a beat, that’s not very silent, filled with the party that’s still thrumming. Loud chants and chatter fill the bathroom from the crack under the door.

“We should really go home,” he says.

“I think so,” you hum, “I think I heard about ten people knocking on the door.”

“Shit,” Eddie snorts.

“Shit.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson headcannon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction

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george-weasleys-girl · 8 months

Note

YULE TIDE REQUEST COMING IN HOT BC ITS COLD

Could you write something where the Weasleys are heading to spend Christmas at the order after Mr Weasleys attack (so could be a bit angsty to start), and on their arrival they find Y/N there with Sirus, her Dad and her Uncle Moony, telling her and the trio how they set up the old order back in the day and reader talks about setting up a new one, but the twins (Fred is her bf) didn't know who her family was as she kept it secret, all these years, even more so as Lupin teaches them all Defence Against The Dark Arts. Maybe a bit of akwardness at first when she explains why she couldn't tell them (rumours going around the magic world etc), but cute fluff after when they continue discussing the order, open presents etc. I need cute fluff 🥰

❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️

Fancy Meeting You Here

I goofed and posted this early.🤦‍♀️My only other option was to delete it. So, here it is. Merry Really, Early Christmas! 🎁

Fred Weasley x Fem!reader

~•~

"It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake’s fangs that keep wounds open," Arthur had explained. "They’re sure they’ll find an antidote. Though, they say they’ve had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour."

It was touch and go for a while, but you'd never know it talking to the Weasley patriarch. Despite excruciating pain and losing half his body weight in blood every day, Arthur had remained in high spirits throughout the whole ordeal.

Fred wished he could say the same for himself. Oh sure, he played it off well enough, making jokes and being silly, but truthfully, it had scared him. The knowledge that his dad could've died had shaken him to his very core, and he had no idea how to handle that.

He was certain things would've been better if his girlfriend was by his side. But, sadly, her parents had insisted she come home for the holidays, leaving him to muddle through on his own.

~•~

"Y/N!" Fred ran toward, picking her up in his arms and twirling her around. "I can't believe you're here!" He exclaimed before a confused look settled on his face. "Wait... why are you here?"

His girlfriend gave him a sheepish grin. "There's something I need to tell you."

Fred sat back, stunned. "Sirius is your dad?"

"Sirius Black?" George echoed.

"Yes, Sirius Black is my father." Y/N confirmed.

"But, how?" Fred blistered.

"Well, you see, when a man and a woman - " George began.

"Shut up, George," Fred cut his eyes over at his twin. "I know how," he looked back at Y/N. "But, you know... how?"

Y/N had to stifle a grin. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say, my mum isn't in the picture. My Uncle Mooney took care of me while dad was in Azkaban."

"Wow... " George marveled.

"Why did you tell me?" Fred asked.

"I had to keep it secret. Dad's on the run. Death Eaters are everywhere, and we're starting the Order back up."

"The order?" Her boyfriend looked excited at the prospect. "The Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yep," she confirmed. "With Death Eaters crawling out of the woodwork again, not to mention the possibility that Voldy could come back if he hasn't already, they thought it be a good idea to revive it. And Grimmauld Place will be the headquarters this time around."

"Wicked," Fred replied. "So, my girlfriend is in league with infamous Order of the Phoenix."

Y/N laughed. "I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that. But, yeah, kinda."

"Well," George clapped his hands on his lap and stood. "That's all I need to know right now to know this is going to be an awesome Christmas." He looked at Y/N. "Just a suggestion. You might wanna wait until Harry gets here to get into the fine details. That way, you don't have to tell it twice."

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, good idea."

George grinned. "Well, I'm gonna go find something to eat and let you two catch up."

Once George was gone, Y/N scooted closer to Fred. "I'm glad we get to spend Christmas together after all."

"Me too," he smiled. "It's been a rough couple of weeks."

"I'm really glad to see you're dad's doing better. I was really worried about him."

"So, was I," Fred admitted, his cheeks growing hot. "I - I really missed you being there with me."

Y/N smiled, pretending she didn't notice the lovely blush rise up across his cheeks and pulled him closer. "Well, I'm here with you now."

"I'm glad," Fred gave a small grin and looked down, trying to hide the stubborn crimson that'd taken up residence on his face.

"But, you know," Y/N continued. "You're failing in your duties as a good boyfriend."

"What?" Fred looked up, eyes wide.

"You've been here for a whole half hour, and you haven't kissed me once."

"Oh dear, you're right," he sat up straight, and his usual, confident cockiness came roaring back. "I must do something about that immediately."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @charmedfandomgal @loveosewood @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman

#fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #hp fandom #hp universe

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kingofbodyrolls · 18 days

Text

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nine

🐴Chapter summary: You haven’t talked to Jimin in months— he has been successful in avoiding you since he saw Yoongi kiss you. But when a charity gala forces you together, will you erupt like an active volcano? 🐴Chapter title: Take the Rain Away 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au + smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: yelling and curse words 🤭 Jin’s pink slipper is finally here (though it’s not him wielding it lol) 🩴 🐴Status: ongoing (to be completed on 2nd May 2024) 🐴Word count: 8.2k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

🛑 psa to all you lovely people on the taglist, I’ve seen that some of you aren’t interacting… I’m wondering if you’re still reading or not— do you wish to be removed from the taglist? It’s okay if you don’t like it anymore, I can remove you if you want to 🛑

🐴Now playing 💿 “Take the Rain Away” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: can you tell I wrote this chapter while severely depressed (as I did the previous)? 🥲 But, it was very easy to channel all my feelings into it, so I wrote it in like a day while crying most of the time. But here it is! Also, again I’m sorry. I’m really going through it and dealing with my depression, so I’m sorry if I take longer to reply… I do look at your messages though! I don’t know, life is hard and I’m waiting to get a referral from my doctor… all that shit takes such a freaking long time! But yeah, I’m still struggling, but I’m doing my best to hang in there; bad days and a few good days finally. Thank you all so much for reading and for sticking with the story, tbh there were a few times in the latest chapters where I just wanted to delete it all and stop posting.. But yeah, thank fuck🫂 Also… I really hope you’ll love the next chapter and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in either a comment or a reblog ☀️💦 🐴Author’s note #2: I'm sorry… today I'm feeling extremely emotional and anxious. It’s making me cry and my head is so heavy with a lot of thoughts… I hope you still like the chapter, right now I’m afraid it’s crap, so I’ll go hide (don't mind me, this is 50% my anxiety speaking). See ya on Thursday lovelies!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

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“Take the rain away Take the rain away Give me hope Give me love Make it sweet from above Take the rain away Oh take the rain away Give me praise Give me heart Take the rain away”- ‘Take the Rain Away’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The rain pelts on your windows, a rhythmic symphony against the glass that serves as the melodic backdrop to your dance with the paintbrush. Each stroke elicits a clench in your heart, a poignant harmony with the emotions that escape onto the canvas. Despite a tear finding its way down your cheek, you persist. The canvas becomes a vibrant tapestry, weaving through an array of red hues, from the delicate blush of pink to the profound richness of vermillion. In this intimate dance, you surrender to the guidance of the brush, allowing the strokes to tell a story only your heart understands.

The paintbrush becomes the voice of your unspoken thoughts, an ethereal extension of your mind that guides you through an escape. It whisks you away to an alternate reality, a place where joy and serenity prevail. Yet, as you gaze upon your canvas, the illusion shatters – a mosaic of red tones, a stark reflection of your inner turmoil. You’re aware of the truth it conceals, reluctant to acknowledge the lingering ache for a man who remains silent, a man whose choices have been clear and that choice wasn’t you. But why the heck would he decide to date someone that looks like you?

The baffling revelation still eludes you, a persistent enigma that has gnawed at your thoughts for days since the girls disclosed it. The meaning behind it remains a puzzle, and you find yourself grappling with the uncertainty. There’s an urge to confront Jimin, to seek answers, but the apprehension holds you back.

Instead, you retreat to the solace of your bedroom, losing yourself in the strokes of your paintbrush. Each canvas becomes a testament to your emotional turmoil, saturated in shades of red that echo anger and sadness. The thought of whether anyone would buy these artworks fades into insignificance; the therapeutic process takes precedence, offering a semblance of peace in the midst of your inner storm.

For a solid week, the relentless rain has played its melancholic symphony, a constant companion to your shifting moods. While you don’t inherently despise the rain, its prolonged presence begins to cast a subtle veil of gloom. The weather, once a neutral backdrop, now becomes a weight on your shoulders, a persistent force tugging at the edges of your mind, leaving a trace of subtle melancholy in its wake.

Perhaps a twinge of bitterness creeps in, accompanied by an admission of jealousy as you observe Jungkook becoming a frequent overnight guest. Their shared moments are anything but discreet, the resonance of their love making echoing through the walls. You’ve mastered the art of drowning out those sounds, resorting to nocturnal strolls when needed. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for the same intimacy, but with Jimin.

You sigh, feeling utterly deflated. Life never goes the way to want it to. Why can’t you just have something good happening for once?

In the dead of night, raindrops patter on your skin as you venture out once more for a solitary walk. The rhythmic percussion of raindrops becomes a welcome reprieve, drowning out the less-than-subtle sounds emanating from your sister’s room. Ugh. it’s just great— now you can’t stand people in love anymore! Despite your genuine happiness for your sister and Jungkook, witnessing their affectionate gestures becomes a bitter pill to swallow. The kisses, the embraces, the whispered words—all of it, a poignant reminder of what you yearn for with Jimin.

If only you could have that.

You know that jealousy is a nasty feeling and it leaves you feeling bitter inside.

The rain penetrates your jacket, seeping through to your skin—a subtle reminder of your lack of preparation. Cursing under your breath, you navigate through the yard, each step burdened with the weight of your drenched attire. As you reach one of the paddocks, darkness envelops you, the atmosphere dense and humid, mirroring the warmth and heaviness echoing in your chest. Yet, you yearn for this feeling to dissipate, much like the wishful thought that the rain will cease, allowing the sun to once again cast its hopeful rays upon you.

Lifting your gaze to the sky, the night sky unfolds above you, a vast canvas adorned with innumerable stars shimmering in their cosmic dance. A sigh escapes your lips, a blend of appreciation and melancholy. The celestial display, though undeniably beautiful, carries a bittersweet weight tonight, stirring emotions that twirl like distant constellations in the vast expanse above.

With the rain as your shield, you ponder whether it’s safe to return inside again or not. Opting to let the rhythmic dance of raindrops cloak you further, you choose the soothing drumbeat of rain over the potential moans echoing through the walls. It’s better to give them more time to finish whatever they are doing, instead of going back and having to listen to it.

As the rain clings to your clothes and skin, an uncomfortable yet strangely welcomed sensation, you yearn for more than just the soothing touch of the downpour. Hoping against hope, you wish the rain could wash away the turmoil in your chest, or perhaps, deliver to you the one thing you crave and need the most—love.

Jimin.

In the recesses of your heart, the truth echoes loudly— he is the one meant for you, and the regret gnaws at your soul for not confessing your feelings earlier. The fear of disrupting and jeopardizing his current relationship hangs heavy, a bitter pill you swallow. His decision is made, and you must bear the weight of it.

Frustration clenches your hands as you yearn for a conversation, a connection—anything to breach the walls he’s created, leaving you to wonder why he’s avoiding you or won’t acknowledge you at all.

As your breath quickens, tears intertwine with the raindrops on your cheeks, a blurred fusion where your own sorrows become indistinguishable from the weeping sky.

Your clothes cling to you, saturated by the persistent rain, and you decide it’s time to retreat from the star-studded night. With a silent farewell to the celestial display, you make your way back into the house, yearning for the solace of a quiet room, and silently hoping your sister and Jungkook have concluded their love making.

As you open the door and traverse the hallway, the muffled exchange of hushed voices reaches your ears, causing your heart to sink. Determined, you press on and step into your bedroom, conveniently situated next to your sister’s. Lately, you’ve cursed this proximity, contemplating the idea of seeking refuge downstairs in the guestroom.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed and muted moans persist, making you release a weary sigh, hastily snatching your pillow to shield your ears from the intimate sounds infiltrating the air.

Morning arrives, and you’re weary, having fallen asleep with the pillow cocooned around your head. Your once-neat hair now resembles a bird’s nest, and your body, feeling rigid and sore, yearns for the elusive embrace of a restful night’s sleep.

Fatigue clinging to every step, you drag your weary body to the bathroom, performing the mundane rituals of brushing teeth and washing your face. The mirror mercilessly reflects the under-eye bags, taunting reminders of restless nights. A scoff escapes your lips as you splash water on your face, a futile attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion and rouse yourself from the morning haze.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook steps out of your sister’s room, wearing a sheepish yet gentle smile. Weariness etched on your features, you respond with a weary nod, acknowledging his presence.

Apology etched in his expression, he inquires, “Did we disturb your sleep?”

Concern lines his face, yet beneath the surface, a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes sweep over your tired form.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice, though deep down, you acknowledge that ’fine’ is a distant echo from the truth.

“We’ll keep it down,” he assures, a warm smile gracing his features as he absentmindedly scratches his head. A soft chuckle escapes you, an acknowledgment of the genuine sweetness and kindness that radiate from him.

“Jungkook, really, you don’t have to worry. I’ll grab some earplugs or whatever,” you laugh, the sound devoid of true joy. Despite your attempts at humor, each forced smile or chuckle only serves as a reminder of the hollowness and sorrow settling in your chest.

Jungkook gives you a reluctant nod, a silent acknowledgment of your weariness and the deflated emotions you carry. With a heavy heart, you retreat into your room to get dressed, the weight of the morning and the unresolved thoughts lingering in the air.

As you descend and enter the kitchen, the comforting aroma of Ha-rin’s nearly finished breakfast fills the air. Offering a hand, you assist her in setting up the table in the cozy dining room. The rarity of having everyone gather for a meal is not lost on you; usually, you’re consumed by solitary, hurried bites as the demands of the ranch beckon. However, today unfolds differently, marked by an unusual slowness in the rhythm of ranch life.

“You look tired,” she observes with a gentle concern in her voice as the two of you collaborate in setting the table. A soft chuckle escapes you, a mixture of acknowledgment and self-deprecating humor. It’s as if they’ve pointed out the obvious—yes, you’re aware you don’t look your best, but must they bring attention to it?

“Thanks. Jungkook and Jessi kept me up again,” you respond with a weariness that seeps into both your voice and posture, a tiredness underscored by a stifled yawn.

As you turn your head, Jungkook and Jessi stand in the doorframe, wearing apologetic expressions that mirror the remorse evident in their eyes.

“We’re sorry,” your sister offers a sincere smile as she pulls out a chair, settling down. Jungkook follows suit, immediately diving into the meal with an eagerness that hints at his hunger.

“It’s fine,” you brush off their apologies with weary eyes and a nonchalant wave. “At least you’re getting some,” you jest, but an awkward hush descends upon the room. The atmosphere turns dense, and their uncertain expressions reveal they’re unsure how to react. “Don’t mind me; I’m just... frustrated. Not at you, though!” you quickly reassure them, taking a seat and joining in the meal.

For a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence descends, wrapping around the room like an unwelcome guest. It’s the kind of awkward stillness that feels stifling and peculiar, and you find yourself yearning for someone to break it, to utter anything to shatter the tension lingering in the air.

“We actually have something to tell you,” your sister begins, and as you meet her eyes, you notice a sparkle of excitement, maybe even love, dancing in them. Her happiness is contagious; a radiant smile graces her lips, and a delicate pink hue adorns her cheeks, complementing her beautifully. It’s a sight that warms your heart, pulling a genuine smile from you in return.

Jungkook gently moves his hand over Jessi’s, giving it a tender squeeze, and his eyes gleam with a radiant light, an unmistakable shimmer of affection, you presume. Their laughter dances in the air, and their shared smiles are like a silent declaration of the love that binds them.

“We’ve been meaning to share something with you,” your sister begins, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Jungkook and I are dating,” she announces, and you can’t help but feel your smile broaden. You observe the subtle exchange of glances between them, a blend of happiness and nervousness, as if unsure of how you’ll react to this newfound chapter in their relationship.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, and you can’t help but beam, your emotions laid bare. “That makes me so happy to hear!” A single tear escapes, and you playfully scold yourself, but deep down, you’re overwhelmed with joy for your sister and Jungkook.

Your sister’s concern deepens as she leans in, her eyes reflecting worry. “Are you okay with this? You seem a bit sad…”

With tear-streaked cheeks, you point to your clearly emotional face, chuckling through the joyful tears. “This? I’m just thrilled for you. I just... wish I had that too. But I’m genuinely happy for you.” Sniffling, you manage a smile, though your plate is nearly obscured by your overwhelming emotions.

Jungkook, your sister, and Ha-rin exchange concerned glances, but wisely refrain from prying further. You believe they’ve caught on; your weeks of moping and the emotional rollercoaster have left little room for secrets. It’s ridiculous, you scold yourself internally, navigating the intricate maze of your own emotions. The irony of grieving a relationship that never truly existed weighs heavy on your chest, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for what could have been.

Genuine happiness radiates within you for their newfound relationship, and you don’t perceive it as strange. Sure, there was a fleeting encounter with Jungkook, as Jessi pointed out, but it was just that—a passing moment. You never harbored romantic feelings for him; your joy stems from seeing them genuinely happy together. Yet, an undeniable pang echoes in your heart, a yearning for that elusive connection you witness in them, to have that special someone— and that someone is Jimin.

Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you grapple with the uncertainty of your feelings for Jimin. Every attempt to navigate this emotional maze has hit a dead end – avoiding him, attempting conversations that fall on deaf ears, and even embracing silence only to be met with his intense gaze.

The enigma that is Jimin remains beyond your comprehension. Your desire for him lingers, leaving you in a perplexing predicament with no clear path forward.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of hooves against the earth, offering guidance as a fiery-red mare gracefully circles you in the pen. Perched atop the fence, Yoongi, accompanied by Hoseok, shares his insights. Lately, with the challenging task of taming wild horses, Hoseok has become an invaluable ally, contributing his skill and energy to the shared pursuit.

His involvement extends beyond mere assistance; he actively contributes to the preparations, occasionally joining your rides and, on other occasions, simply sharing moments as you engage in the day’s tasks. Today, he observes with keen interest, his presence an unspoken support in the rhythm of your work.

You attempt to find your focus, and you let your shoulders sag, reminding yourself of the importance of a calm and clear mind in handling the unpredictable nature of the horses. Despite your efforts, stress and frustration linger, making the task more challenging. Today seems particularly difficult. Your gaze repeatedly drifts toward Yoongi and Hoseok, seated closely. The air between them carries a subtle tension, Yoongi fidgeting with his shirt, an uncharacteristic unease marking his demeanor. It’s funny how being around someone you like can change the way you behave.

You let out a soft chuckle, finding Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok endearing. The uncertainty of whether Hoseok reciprocates, or even what his preferences are— if he’s into men, women or both. You have no clue, but you genuinely hope that Hoseok shares Yoongi’s feelings; knowing that Yoongi could use a guy like Hoseok in his life.

The red mare’s whinny echoes through the air as it breaks into a wild gallop, gracefully navigating the pen with powerful bucks. This one, a recent addition, demands more patience than its counterparts. However, you embrace the challenge, recognizing that each horse is unique, and you’re willing to invest the time needed to build trust and understanding.

You let the spirited mare run around the pen, attempting to divert your attention from its antics. Instead, your gaze returns to the two men on the fence. They’re engaged in casual conversation, possibly about work, but the genuine smile on Yoongi’s face has an inexplicable effect on your heart. Hoseok’s eyes light up at every word from Yoongi, and it feels as if your heart could burst into a garden of blossoming flowers. In that moment, you yearn for a connection as beautiful and captivating as the one unfolding before you.

As your gaze drifts, it travels up to the yard, settling on the house that holds the thoughts of the man who occupies your every waking moment—Jimin. The silence between you two persists, leaving you in a state of anticipation. Every now and then, you catch glimpses of him with Deiji, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite the small flower in your chest withering at the sight, you remind yourself it’s okay, even though anger still lingers.

“Watch out!” Hoseok shouts, leaping down from the fence with Yoongi in tow. Before you can react, you find yourself sprawled on the ground with a thud. A frustrated groan escapes your lips as you rub your back, rolling over to your side.

You spot Yoongi approaching the red mare, hands raised in the air, skillfully redirecting its attention away from you. Meanwhile, Hoseok is already down on his knees beside you. As your eyes flutter open, a wave of confusion washes over you.

Concern fills Hoseok’s voice as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Your gaze meets his, lingering confusion evident. Meanwhile, Yoongi persists in his attempt to soothe the red mare, now employing a gentler approach, his words whispered in a hushed tone.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok’s as you ask, “What happened?”

His outstretched hand becomes your anchor, pulling you up into a sitting position, your fingers instinctively rubbing your sore back again.

His words hit you, “The horse ran you over,” accompanied by a subtle chuckle. Yet, his eyes reveal a deeper concern as he carefully scans you, ensuring that you’re genuinely okay.

You glance around in confusion at the sandy expanse of the pen.

“It did?” you inquire, perplexed, your gaze shifting down to the ground where you find yourself. You must have blacked out or something. You assess your body, feeling a general lack of pain, at least not as much as you expected.

“I think I’m fine,” you assure Hoseok, allowing him to help you up as you stand. You dust off the sand from your pants and shirt, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Yoongi, having calmed the mare, walks over to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks you up and down. You chuckle, dismissing any concern with a wave of your hand. There’s no need for a fuss over a simple fall.

“I’m fine. I was just pushed. No biggie!” you declare, gesturing with your hands to reassure them that everything is under control.

“Maybe we should take a look at you at the house?” Hoseok suggests, and you instantly flinch, a wave of apprehension washing over you.

“Oh god no. I’m fine, and I really don’t want to go in there,” you state firmly, a pressed smile on your face. The last thing you need is to see Jimin with Deiji again; better to stay clear of them, as you’ve been doing recently. Both Yoongi and Hoseok laugh, and you notice the way they look at each other, as if there’s something you’ve missed. For a split second, you feel left out before joining in the laughter yourself.

You ask Yoongi to finish working on the red mare while you and Hoseok take a seat on top of the fence. From there, you observe him letting the horse run about, much like you did earlier. Yoongi always appears so relaxed when he’s working. His ability to keep his mind sealed off and clear during tasks is incredible. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for you or Hoseok. The dynamic between the three of you is unique, each with your own way of approaching the work at hand.

The happy-go-lucky man next to you appears captivated by watching Yoongi work; his eyes shine as bright as the sun. The way he holds his breath, as if the air is too thick with something, sparks a glimmer of hope within you. Perhaps it’s because he might harbor feelings for Yoongi.

You meticulously apply eyeliner and mascara, ensuring you look flawless. Returning to your room, your eyes fall upon the elegant purple satin gown laid out on your bed. The floor-length attire boasts a sweetheart neckline, perfectly complemented by a pair of carefully chosen low heels that you gracefully slip into.

Before stepping out, you steal a moment to gaze at your reflection in the mirror, and what stares back at you is nothing short of captivating.

As you step outside your door, you encounter your sister, adorned in a floor-length gown of deep blue that borders on the verge of velvety blackness.

“Wow, you look stunning,” you compliment your sister, and she responds with a soft smile, her fingers nervously dancing with the edges of her purse.

“Thanks, you look incredible too,” she smiles warmly, and together you descend the stairs to join the other girls.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin await you downstairs, adorned in stunning gowns for the night’s gala in town. The charity event, featuring an auction, aims to raise funds for the local hospital’s children’s ward. Ara stuns in a radiant red dress, Soo-ah elegantly dons baby blue, prompting you to ponder if it’s her favorite color, and Ha-rin exudes sophistication in a black gown. The quartet, a vision of beauty, gathers in the kitchen, the air buzzing with excitement for the glamorous night ahead.

“Ready for an enchanting evening, everyone?” you inquire, casting a smile across the group, your eyes dancing with anticipation.

“Yeah!” Soo-ah cheers with infectious joy, and without a second thought, you all rush to the door, hitch up your dresses, and dash into the yard, the relentless rain already kissing your gowns with its playful touch.

You hastily hop into the car, and Jessi swiftly ignites the engine, reversing out of the yard. The rain’s symphony dances on the windshield, while the sun gracefully sets, painting the sky in captivating shades of gold and pink.

Jessi navigates the road with precision, and the group settles into a comfortable ease. Casual conversations and light-hearted jokes fill the air, yet your mind strays elsewhere, tethered to thoughts of Jimin. Anticipating his presence at the gala, you resolve to keep a careful distance, aware that the crowd might offer a shield for the avoidance you seek.

Navigating the rain-drenched roads adds extra time to your journey into town, but finally, you pull up in front of City Hall. The building itself seems to have donned its best attire for the occasion, adorned with banners and a vibrant red carpet that unfurls invitingly through the grand entrance.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car, you hastily step out, seeking refuge under the overhang of the building to escape the relentless rain. A quick scan of the parking lot reveals the presence of Jimin and Jungkook’s trucks, instantly causing a pang in your chest. The prospect of encountering Jimin tonight tightens your heart, and you brace yourself for the emotional storm that might follow.

“Ugh I fucking hate the rain,” Soo-ah groans beside you, her disdain for the downpour resonating with your own sentiments. Your chuckle, a small escape from the damp reality, lingers in the misty air.

Ensuring everyone is prepared, you lead the way into the grand hall. The opulence hits you instantly – a symphony of golds and reds creating a lavish spectacle. The vast space is adorned with small, round tables draped in rich red cloth, each topped with flickering candles. Towards the front, a podium commands attention, surrounded by carefully curated art pieces. Among them, proudly displayed, are a couple of your own paintings, awaiting their moment in tonight’s charitable auction.

Approaching the guys, you’re met with a sight to behold—Jungkook impeccably clad in a black tux adorned with subtle stripes, while Yoongi and Hoseok exude charm in their tuxedos, each strand of hair meticulously styled. Embracing them warmly, your attention shifts to Jimin, not far off, accompanied by his stunning girlfriend. The duo radiates elegance, and you can’t help but curse Jimin silently for his undeniable allure— his ass looks so good in those pants. His tux drapes his frame flawlessly, accentuating every curve, and you catch yourself practically drooling before quickly averting your eyes.

Spotting his gaze directed your way, you respond with a silent nod. Despite your desire to keep your distance, you choose the path of politeness, offering this small acknowledgment in the crowded elegance of the gala.

The room swells with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Across the expanse, you catch sight of Namjoon and Seokjin at a neighboring table. With a warm smile, you extend a friendly wave in their direction.

As the auction commences, you navigate through the crowd toward a table, silently grateful for opting for low heels to spare your feet. A glass of champagne in hand, you join Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, and Ara at a table. Meanwhile, Ha-rin has engaged in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Seokjin across the room, their friendship evident even from a distance.

Jessi and Jungkook are stationed at a table alongside Jimin and Deiji, and a scoff escapes you when your gaze lands on Jimin. The silence between you two remains, a lack of surprise settling in as a familiar companion at this point.

He appears incredibly alluring, like a full-course meal, and something stirs within your veins—a concoction of anger and jealousy, perhaps. The desire to speak to him, to feel his touch, clashes with the urge to tear him apart. Later, the thought of dancing with him lingers, but the awkwardness stemming from his radio silence and the undeniable truth that he isn’t yours keeps you at a wary distance.

The auctioneer’s voice becomes a distant murmur, his words lost in the whirl of paintings and various items on the stand. Your attention, however, is not tethered to the auction; instead, it’s ensnared by the intensity in Jimin’s gaze. The way his eyes lock onto yours mirrors a familiarity, reminiscent of the look he gave you weeks ago during Jessi’s cast celebration dinner. The unspoken depth in his eyes unsettles you, inducing a subtle sweat, nervous energy, and an involuntary gulp.

With no refuge in sight, you attempt to anchor yourself in the rhythm of your heartbeat, a desperate bid to quell the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Indeed— sin personified gazes your way, but what does it matter? His silence, his refusal to engage, grates on your last nerves. You know you’re at an auction right now, and it would be weird to talk at this event, but dammit, he could just come over and ask you for a talk, pull you off to another room. Anything, really.

A sly smile graces your lips as Yoongi playfully nudges your shoulder, and you, in turn, lean into the comfort of his presence. A subtle shift in Jimin’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the intensity of his eyes deepening as the unspoken tension weaves through the air.

Hoseok playfully nudges you as your vibrant red painting graces the auction stage. Surprisingly, an elegant elderly lady becomes enamored with it, bidding generously and claiming it as her own. Gratitude swells within you, knowing that the proceeds will contribute to a worthy cause.

Jimin’s unwavering gaze continues to linger on you, an irritation bubbling within. You question why he can’t redirect his attention to his girlfriend or, at the very least, the ongoing auction.

The auction unfolds in the background, but your focus remains unyielding to the bidding, stolen by the persistent gaze of the blonde man. His intense gaze feels like he’s stripping you down with his eyes. Yet you remain nonchalant, indifferent to his silent advances.

During a brief respite, as delectable appetizers circulate the room, you discreetly savor the miniature delights, determinedly diverting your attention from Jimin as per your original strategy.

Abruptly, you interject into the group’s conversation, “Is there something on my face?” Their perplexed gazes pivot towards you, uncertain of the sudden inquiry.

As you munch on a bite of food, you nonchalantly toss in, “Jimin keeps giving me these intense stares, and I just don’t get it.”

Yoongi and Hoseok share a knowing chuckle, their eyes reflecting a camaraderie that Soo-ah and Ara immediately catch onto, shooting you looks of playful understanding.

“No, there’s nothing on your face,” Soo-ah says with a teasing smile, her words dripping with a playful undertone.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Ara suggests, her voice carrying a gentle note of encouragement, like a flicker of a candle in the dim room of uncertainty.

“He doesn’t want to talk, and I hardly think this is the place for it…” you say, the words hanging in the air like a fleeting sigh, drowned out by the buzz of conversations around you as you take a thoughtful sip of your champagne.

You redirect your attention to the auctioneer, a black vase taking center stage this time. As the bidding unfolds, you indulge in another sip of champagne, feeling the effervescent bubbles dance teasingly across your tongue, a subtle distraction from the tension in the room.

As the final gavel falls, signaling the end of the auction, a wave of relief washes over you. The speakers come alive with soulful melodies, casting a warm ambiance over the room. To your surprise, the atmosphere becomes infectious, and you observe couples from other tables swaying to the rhythmic tunes. A chuckle escapes you, realizing you’ve never been one to dance at such formal events. Nevertheless, the music’s allure beckons, and you find yourself succumbing to the rhythm, ready to embrace the unexpected joy of the night.

Yoongi seizes your hands, whisking you onto the dance floor in a whirl of laughter and joy. The dance is a delightful blend of fun and friendship, his every move resonating with an infectious rhythm. As you twirl under the dazzling lights, you catch Hoseok’s gaze fixed on Yoongi. Leaning in, you share a whispered observation, “Hoseok’s eyes are practically glued to you, you know?”

His laughter reverberates through the air, a melody that resonates with a warmth you find comforting. “I know,” he chuckles, the sound a harmonious note in the symphony of the evening.

As he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes, you can’t help but reciprocate with a grateful smile. He twirls you around, a dance of understanding, letting you sway out of his embrace only to draw you back in. Oh, the dance you share with him is a temporary refuge, a wishful escape from the reality you yearn to change. However, your joy falters as you catch Jimin’s gaze; his eyes, far from angelic, hold a mysterious intensity that pierces through the rhythm of the music.

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans in, “Jimin’s got his eyes on you too.”

“I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked through that door,” you admit with a sigh, your gaze wandering over the dance floor where your sister twirls with Jungkook, and Ha-rin gracefully dances with Seokjin.

“You should consider talking to him,” he suggests again, but you dismiss the idea with a subtle shake of your head.

“I doubt it would make any difference, honestly,” you laugh, pressing your body into Yoongi’s. His warmth envelops you, and for a brief moment, in his embrace, everything feels like it might just be okay.

Taking a step back from Yoongi, you express the need for a break. As you make your way back to the table to sip on more champagne, you observe Yoongi inviting Hoseok to dance, a proposal met with a willing agreement. Soo-ah joins you at the table, casting a gentle gaze in your direction.

“You danced with Hoseok?” You inquire, your gaze softened with curiosity.

“I did,” she admits with a smile. “He’s a really nice guy.” You nod, acknowledging her words. However, you can’t shake the understanding that someone in your circle might end up with a bruised heart, considering both Yoongi and Soo-ah have affections for Hoseok.

As you watch Hoseok and Yoongi gracefully moving on the dance floor, impressed by Hoseok’s skilled control over his body, a genuine smile plays on your lips. However, that fleeting moment of joy is interrupted as you sense the weight of brown eyes piercing into your back. Turning around, you find Jimin dancing intimately with Deiji, the intensity of his gaze making your smile fade.

You observe Jimin and Deiji dancing cheek to cheek, their bodies pressed tightly together, making you scoff and redirect your attention to Soo-ah. Just as you try to shake off the unsettling sight, a tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts. You turn around to find Hoseok, his bright smile inviting, “Do you want to dance?”

You seize his hand, allowing him to whisk you onto the dance floor, reminiscent of how Yoongi did earlier. Hoseok effortlessly twirls you around, evoking laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Knowing you’re not the most adept dancer, you surrender to his guidance, and he proves to be exceptionally skilled at leading you through the dance.

Amid the enjoyment, a surge of audacity overcomes you, prompting an uncharacteristic move. “What do you think about Yoongi?” The words spill out unexpectedly, catching Hoseok off guard, a reaction vividly displayed on his face. A chuckle escapes you as you revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

“What do you mean?” he asks, catching off guard.

Unable to contain your mischievous grin, you lean in and tease, “You know he likes you, right?” As the words escape your lips, you’re conscious of the trust you might be breaking but convinced that mingling is the key to any potential connection. Hoseok, though initially shocked, isn’t repulsed as you feared. Instead, his eyes widen, and a subtle pink tint adorns his cheeks, leaving you wondering how he’ll respond.

“He does?” Hoseok stammers, caught off guard and missing a beat. Your chuckle only intensifies as you nod in confirmation. The revelation lingers in the air, and you sense that you might not have to do much more to set things in motion.

As you continue to dance, a comfortable silence envelops you both before Hoseok breaks it, his words hanging in the air, “You know Jimin likes you too.”

You roll your eyes, well aware of the situation. “Yeah, not much to do about it when he has a girlfriend,” you admit with a wry smile. Despite Hoseok’s good intentions, you’ve firmly decided not to act on your feelings while Jimin is still in a relationship. It’s a line you won’t cross.

You dance a little longer until Yoongi is at your side again, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wears a curious smile as he asks, “What were you talking about with Hoseok?”

You chuckle softly, “I told him.”

He glances at you, a puzzled expression on his face, “Told him what?”

“That you’ve got a crush on him,” you declare, matter-of-factly, in a hushed tone meant just for the two of you. However, with the rain tapping on the roof and the music playing, it’s a challenge to catch every word.

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t exactly radiate joy, but there’s a subtle softness to his features, an almost-relaxed demeanor. He releases a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t my place to say anything. But he actually seemed intrigued!” You share, your words riding the rhythm of the music as you sway with Yoongi. His tension eases, and he responds with a soft expression, a subtle acknowledgment of the revelation.

“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “it wasn’t your place, but it’s fine.”

You lean into him, embracing him gently and offering a reassuring pat on the back. In that moment, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you once again. The repetitive stares leave you puzzled. Why is he focused on you instead of his girlfriend?

You feel your heart quicken, your nostrils flare, and your hands clench around Yoongi’s back. He pulls you away, confusion etched on his face, questioning what’s wrong. But you see red. It’s reached a boiling point. The anger simmers inside you, consuming every inch of your being, and with determination, you let go of Yoongi and stride purposefully over to Jimin and Deiji.

Standing before them, you take a deep inhale, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing beneath your skin. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” Your voice slices through the ambient sounds, a piercing question that fractures the comfortable cocoon around Jimin and Deiji. Jimin slowly turns to face you, his expression shifting from surprise to a somber acknowledgment, as if he’s been caught in the act of something he’d rather keep hidden.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” you hiss, your hands tightly clenched at your sides, radiating with anger.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” you raise your voice, the anger boiling so fiercely within you that you feel breathless as you unleash your words.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab your finger accusingly at her, and she flinches, uncertain about how to react. Jimin simply gazes at you, as though you’ve lost your marbles—and maybe you have, because the words keep pouring out.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You huff, the waves of anger radiating from your body. The sudden realization hits you that the entire room is now fixated on the spectacle, and an eerie silence envelops the space, punctuated only by the intensity of your heated words.

Yoongi steps up beside you, a silent force attempting to ground you, but you refuse to yield. The torrent of anger surges within you, and with an accusatory finger, you unleash your fury on Jimin.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your words, laden with venom, spill from your lips in a torrent of conflicting emotions. You seethe, feeling strangely lighter, though the room spins around you. Yoongi releases your arm, his face a mix of shock, and confusion mirrors the peculiar glances from those around you, leaving you wondering why everyone is now looking at you even more strangely than before.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you hiss at Jimin, catching him off guard. Deiji wears a displeased expression, and Jimin’s features soften in a way that leaves you utterly bewildered.

Deiji appears visibly irritated, and you’re left wondering if her frustration is directed at you or if she shares your exasperation for Jimin. As the tension simmers, Jimin unexpectedly breaks into laughter, his audacity fueling the fire of your anger. The laughter grates on your nerves, aggravating you further. Why on earth is he finding amusement in this situation? There’s nothing remotely funny about it, intensifying the blaze of your already fiery emotions.

You jab your accusatory finger at him once more, your voice cutting through the tension, “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Your voice may carry the tone of an angered child denied its desires, but you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you’re finally confronting Jimin, even if the conversation seems to be one-sided.

You observe as he parts his lips, ready to utter words that you don’t wish to hear.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” You hiss in frustration, ready to pivot away from the awkward situation, aware of the collective gaze of all the guests upon you. As you start to turn, Jimin’s firm grip on your wrist stops you, compelling you to face him again.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” You shriek, wrenching your arm free, and storming out of the building. The erratic thumping of your heart resonates like a dissonant ringing in your ears, mirroring the chaos within.

Gasping frantically for air, your breath catching in turbulent spasms, you step outside, feeling as if your body is unraveling at the seams. Collapsing on the stairs, you surrender to the tremors of anger pulsating through you. Attempting to regain composure, you strive to slow your breath, but the task proves as challenging as holding back a tempest.

Regret floods your senses, a torrent of remorse for every word unleashed in the heat of anger, half of them lost to the haze of fury. The weight of all eyes fixed upon you, their gaze searing into your soul, amplifies the desire for the ground to open up and engulf you whole.

What transpired in that room, and how did it all spiral into such chaos?

A symphony of hooves shatters the tranquility of your peaceful slumber, jerking you awake. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hurry to the window to witness the commotion outside. In the distance, a captivating spectacle unfolds — a wild herd of horses, led by the majestic brown stallion, thundering across the landscape. These creatures have become frequent visitors, drawing nearer to the ranch with each passing day. Curiosity grips you; what secrets do these untamed spirits carry, and why do they venture closer to your haven?

With a contented sigh, you wearily make your way back to your bed, sinking into its welcoming embrace. A spontaneous yawn escapes, accompanied by a luxurious stretch that sends waves of relaxation through your well-rested body. The simple joy of a peaceful night’s sleep settles over you, like a comforting blanket enveloping your weary soul.

Entering the bathroom, you brace yourself for the day ahead. Under the rejuvenating spray of a quick shower, you allow the cascading water to serve as a cleansing force, washing away not only yesterday’s mistakes but also the lingering regret that clings to your every thought. The steam clouds your reflection, a metaphorical veil between the past and the potential for a better today.

The bracing cold water jolts you into wakefulness, a refreshing prelude to the day ahead. As rivulets of water cascade down, you ensure every trace of sleep is banished, emerging invigorated and ready for the rigors of another day on the ranch. Donning a weathered shirt, worn-in pants, and your trusty boots, you complete the ensemble with the signature hat that shields your face from the sun’s relentless gaze. Descending the stairs, you find Ara in the kitchen, skillfully crafting a sandwich for her morning appetite.

“Hey there!” you chirp, a grin lighting up your face, buoyed by the rare joy of a restful night’s sleep. A subtle acknowledgment forms in your mind—thankful for your sister and Jungkook opting for a night at his place, granting you the serenity that fueled the upbeat mood.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ara inquires, her attention focused on putting away the butter, as if carefully choosing the moment to meet your eyes.

“Actually, leave it out. I could use one too,” you interject, and Ara obligingly retrieves the butter, finally meeting your gaze. “As for how I’m doing—just fine.”

She hands you the butter and a knife, a wry smile playing on her lips, “Some party, huh?”

She chuckles, and you roll your eyes. The weight of her laughter only intensifies your embarrassment, a vivid reminder of the scene you created at the gala. You find yourself wishing for the ground to open up and spare you from the aftermath of your emotional outburst. Why did you have to make such a spectacle?

Damn you and your relentless emotions. Now the whole world, or at least everyone at the gala, knows the depth of your disdain for Jimin, you assume. You bury your face in your hands, releasing a frustrated grunt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to create such a spectacle.”

Ara’s laughter rings out, much to your dismay, intensifying the furrow in your brow. You don’t see the humor; you’ve practically made a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“Well, we all had a blast,” she laughs, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, “I’m sure Jimin is having a good laugh about it too.”

You roll your eyes once more, highly skeptical. After all, you called him so many terrible names, didn’t allow him a word in, and basically told him to stick it in his ass.

Wonderful. Great. Peachy. Words that utterly fail to capture the chaotic storm of emotions swirling within you at this very moment. The vivid memories of your passionate outburst yesterday haunt you, casting a shadow over any semblance of composure. There’s a lingering wish to escape the possibility of encountering Jimin and his girlfriend again, but deep down, you acknowledge that luck doesn’t favor you so generously.

You hastily slather butter onto your bread, devouring it in its pure simplicity. The imminent need to depart gnaws at you; the day awaits, beckoning you to gallop over to the Bell ranch, where the untamed spirits of the wild horses entwine with the shared endeavors of you and Yoongi.

“I have to go,” you declare, snatching the bread in your mouth, and dash outdoors toward the barn. The sun, now radiantly shining, bestows a sense of hope upon your day, propelling you forward with anticipation.

As you saddle up Marshmallow and guide him outdoors, a faint sound begins to patter on the roof—a soft, rhythmic reminder of the rain.

Out in the open, the rain embraces you in seconds, a relentless downpour that draws a scoff. Undeterred, you plant your foot in the stirrup and swing the other leg over, urging Marshmallow into a full gallop. The rain pelts your face, but you ride on, indifferent to the weather’s challenge.

As you ride, thoughts of Jimin’s expression at the gala linger in your mind. Despite his initial composure, his face betrayed offense and anger, as if restraining the urge to shout back. He stood there, his girlfriend by his side, absorbing every word you hurled at him. Regret tugs at you, but the words are irreversible, a turbulent exchange you can’t undo, even if you wished otherwise.

A yearning lingers within you, hoping that Jimin would have retorted, engaged in a verbal sparring, or at least defended himself. However, his silence echoes louder than any words, leaving you to ponder the significance of his unspoken response.

You sense that words were poised on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, ready to spill out, but a conscious decision to shield yourself from his potential revelations compelled you to shut down any communication before it began.

The peculiar weather paints a contradictory scene: raindrops cascade, yet the sun defiantly radiates its warmth, creating a surreal ambiance. In the midst of this meteorological paradox, a double rainbow graces the distant horizon. The sight, both enchanting and whimsical, elicits a genuine smile, urging you to spur Marshmallow into an even faster gallop. Each rhythmic beat of his hooves seems to synchronize with the cadence of your heart, a determined attempt to outride the persistent thoughts of Jimin that linger in your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, a welcoming sight after the turbulent events, you guide Marshmallow down to the pen where Yoongi and Hoseok eagerly await your arrival. Skillfully securing Marshmallow to the fence, you exchange greetings with the two men, the atmosphere pregnant with anticipation for the day’s tasks on the ranch.

Hoseok’s laughter greets you even before you utter a single word, prompting an eye roll from you in response.

As Yoongi dedicates himself to the fiery-red mare once more, you find your way to the fence, settling in next to Hoseok with a sense of camaraderie.

“Nice gala, huh?” Hoseok teases, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggests he’s well aware of the evening’s drama. You respond with a loud groan, wondering why people find the need to rub your failures in your face.

“Shit. I regret how I behaved. It’s so embarrassing,” you confess, closing your eyes as if wishing to erase yesterday from existence.

“I understand. But it was fun to watch,” he laughs heartily, his entire being pulsating with mirth.

You shift your gaze downward to Yoongi in the pen, “Have you noticed the herd of wild horses getting closer?”

Yoongi nods knowingly, “Yeah.”

You observe the mare’s lively movements before turning your attention back to Yoongi, “What do you think it means?”

Yoongi looks up from the mare, his expression serious, “Nothing good.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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