#and the last thing i want is for anyone to come out of reading it with negative emotions

[yojeongin]

it’s too bad you’re married to me | m.l

→husband!mark lee x f!reader | ft. jaehyun + jungwoo

genre: smut, angst, tragic romance, miscommunication, marriage au, 2000s au

synopsis: all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm denial, cum swallowing, jealousy, toxic relationship/love, insecurity, vomiting, work field harassment, mental health deteriorating, self sabotage, smoking, mentions of poor eating habits/self care, pregnancy, mark is a horrible husband. this is for the people who only know toxic and bad relationships, woohoo (...)

wc: 19.5k+ || soundtrack || ao3

part 1 | part 2

© 2024 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other social media’s. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: it's been a year since I last updated the happy together series, I guess I lied when I said the stupid girl incident wouldn't happen with this one but hey it's finally over! this is an epilogue for happy together but can be read as it’s own part. yn’s character here isn’t the same as happy together, this is a completely different yn!! fun fact I came up with this before happy together lol

‘No one wants to think about it. About how your love may run out or hang by a thread because it’s that big, not able to be supported by one person alone. To even have the fleeting negative thought race in your mind. No one wants that.’ — April 25, 2004.

Life was sweet, it was a new romance never felt before (at least in your case). The type to make your heart swell at any sweet action. He was tender, sweet, and attentive. Whatever you asked of him, he’d have for you, ready and in your hands. Mark used to go out of his way for you but slowly the small things became a burden and any little task, he never wanted to do anymore.

Even so, now as you sit on your knees in between his legs, hearing his grunts from the pleasure he is enduring, you put off your own pleasure for his as long as the satisfaction of him feeling loved continues.

With his cock stuffed deep in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Mark held onto the messy comforter while you kept going. Your nose hitting his pubic bone, staying still for seconds just so he could feel the warmth of your throat around him.

At that feeling Mark allowed a disgruntled moan, loud and perfect. His hips buckle forward, causing you to gag. Tearing up and finger nails softly claw his thighs. That’s the most damage you allowed yourself to cause him. His hand wraps around your hair, the sting of his pulling mirroring the one of your clawing, he was relentless unlike you.

“You’re so good to me. You feel so good, fuck!” He groans, eyes tightly shut. “I love when you gag around me, it feels so good. As if your throat still hasn’t gotten used to me after all these years, pretty girl.”

Raking your nails on the lower back of his thighs, he hisses. With his hands holding onto your head, his thrusts get harder— almost as a counter attack.

The hand you had on his thigh comes in contact with his balls, pinching them where he likes. Playing with and twirling them. Mark’s thrusts become slow but harder, hitting the back of your throat more painful, nothing you wouldn’t take unwillingly, though. He knows you can and will take anything he gives you.

That’s how you knew he was extremely close. When his thrusts were rough and slow, the grip on your hair became tighter when he pushed you further down, becoming extra sensitive to the way you handle his testicles. 

“Ah~ y/n… Please, just a bit more. Ahh…” He pants, stopping his thrusting momentarily until you pinch his scrotum, to which he whimpers loudly. Some sweat had accumulated on his neck and forehead. Glistening, he looked so beautiful, much more than he already is. Mark’s eyes were closed but he could feel your lingering gaze on him. He could feel the penetrating stare that looked at him with adoration.

When he couldn’t handle it furthermore and his thrusts against your throat were becoming sloppy, Mark’s eyes fluttered open, looking down at you, giving you one of his most tender smiles. You never got used to the way he looked at you. Even when he gave you his coldest glares, there was always a sense of adoration to them. 

So one can only imagine the warmth and giddiness you felt when he looked at you this lovingly. Lovingly enough that he removed one hand from your head and placed it on your cheek. Thumb caressing your flesh, soft strokes contradicting the ones abusing your throat.

“What I wouldn’t do to be like this with you forever.” The words contradictory and cheeky to his caring caress, almost conniving. 

Mark’s hips jolted forward, disgruntled moans left his lips but his eyes never left yours. Even after he screwed them shut momentarily from pleasure, he’d always open them to let you know how good he felt. Head thrown back, trying to regain his breath and calmness after the orgasm you had just given him. His hand strokes your head softly whilst you gaze up at him lovingly, your head resting on his thigh. 

“Morning,” your voice snaps him out of it, looking down at you with a smile. “Really good morning.” He chuckles in a breath, leaning down as much to give you a soft and tender kiss, tasting himself on you. Pulling apart, Mark stands up, helping you up from the aching position you were in. Rubbing your knees momentarily to soothe the pang. 

It didn’t take long enough to forget his care and make his path to the kitchen, you trailing behind like a lost puppy, ignoring your ache just to start the day for both of you. “Hey, can you do me a favor?” Your soft voice squeaked against his ear, making him turn to you slowly. A gleam of hope on your part as always.

“What is it?” You could see his emotions coursing through, already looking for excuses as always. “Just— can you pick up an order at Cafe 7 Dream? It’s for Venetia’s pregnancy leave party but I don’t have time to pick it up. Please? During your lunch break?”

Your eyes still glimmer with hope knowing well what his answer already is. “Oh… baby, you already know I can’t. I don’t even know where it is.” He ran a hand through his hair, walking past you after giving his famous apologetic pout. 

Back to him, hopeful smile faltering, slowly closing your eyes disappointed but not surprised knowing the predicted outcome. You sigh quietly, basking in the background noise he made. Opening and closing the fridge door and pans moving around the stove top as if he truly had intentions to do something.

“I guess, yeah… it’s fine I’ll figure it out then.” Defeatedly, you make your way to him, watching him play with the knobs as if he didn’t know how a damn stove works, you only interfered when he opened the egg crate. Rushing to him you took it all off his hands, his faux complaining making you roll your eyes, him oblivious to how it wasn’t playful anymore. “Go shower, you’ll be late.” Still, your voice held no annoyance. 

He chuckles, completely oblivious to your feelings as always. “Or we could shower together…” he suggests, not over the morning rendezvous. Wanting more and more, never satiated.  

You didn’t have it in you to smile at him, shaking your head and dismissing him as you crack the eggs over the pan. He giggles, towards the bathroom, placing a playful slap to your ass on his way.

The walls were thin. You could hear the sound of the toilet flushing, the water running, and your thoughts bouncing off of them. Torturing you with the words and feelings you try to repress all the time in order to live in peace and in love with him.

You loved him. More than anything, to the point it was extremely painful despite him being yours. You’ve fought hard trying to make your love for him unconditional, there was no backing out anytime.

Moments like these in which he shut down your pleas, all you could do was restrain yourself from the ill thoughts your tired brain tried to throw at him. You couldn’t let anything get in between the both of you, not even yourself. 

So instead you rather stand in front of the stove, moving the spatula around to make him his beloved sunny side up eggs. Funny enough, you hated them but if he wanted you to love them, you would.

Coming out of the bathroom, steam painting the mirrors and windows. Mark dries his hair with the towel sitting atop his shoulders, a sniffle leaves him, pulling the chair from the dining table, smiling at you with a ‘thank you’ rolling off his tongue while you set down his dishes and drink right in front of him. 

“You’re not eating?” He questions the moment you sat beside him with just a pouch of Konjac Jelly. You could only smile and shake your head, suckling on the nozzle to get out the contents. You weren’t eating then and there, you just didn’t want to tell him you were getting breakfast with your colleague on your way to work. 

Mark nodded before digging in on the yolk with his spoon, that expected smile on his face.

He talked and talked after every bite and chew. Mark was well aware of how much you liked to hear his voice, especially in the morning before he left you for work. Head resting on your palm as you watched him stack his plates, a smile plastered on your lips from his presence alone. 

“Want me to drop you off? You’re gonna have to hurry though.” The clanking of the bowls on the sink as he passed water over them knowing you’d wash them eventually; making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and finish getting dressed. 

Shaking your head as a response, he waits for your explanation. “I’m walking the entire week, don’t worry about me. Maybe I'll take the bus.”

How couldn’t he when both of your jobs were a tad bit far from home. It didn’t help that most of the time you got out late. At least he was thankful Jungwoo could drop you off whenever he wasn’t able to pick you up or simply didn’t feel like it.

“You know I don’t like it when you ride the bus, it’s always filled with… men at these hours. Take care, okay? Call me once you arrive or if something happens.”

Despite your smile of approval, what was he going to do when he can barely take care of himself?

Mark’s lips fell against yours the moment he opened the door to the apartment, towering over you for a few kisses before pulling away. “By the way, can you pick up my suit from the cleaners either later or tomorrow? I have a meeting at the end of the week.”

He was giddy asking you for a favor, clutching his backpack, ignoring the way you tried to not let your emotions show through your face. “Yeah… I’ll do it after work.” Your soft voice, trying its best to hide that tinge of bubbling vexation.

Mark smiled, a giggle leaving his throat whilst his hand caresses your cheek. “I’ll see you at night, baby.” You couldn’t answer, he had bolted towards the elevator. Only the daily bittersweet taste lingers once again.

Shutting the door behind you, your eyes immediately travel to the pile of dishes he left for you on the sink, not even allowing your sighs to escape by how familiar this scene has become. It was rather frustrating for Mark to not notice your obvious signs of unhappiness with him. He knew you loved him, perhaps more than he loved you, which he tends to ignore to not throw himself off.

But that love he thinks you have was blinding him from all the realities of how dysfunctional the relationship was. It was pitiful that his friends were the only ones to actually notice them.

“Markie, morning!” Johnny’s cheerful voice booms against his ear, hand softly patting the younger man’s shoulder as he signals to follow him and Jaehyun to the break room while handing him a cup of coffee. 

Mark returned the greeting to both of the men standing in front of him, conversing as if he didn’t see them almost daily. From joke after joke, Jaehyun’s phone beeped constantly, the other two ignoring it as he checked it with a giddy smile plastered on his face; Johnny asks if they’d like to get lunch during their break.

Mark immediately agreed to the offer, taking some of the last sips from his coffee. They spoke about restaurant options but upon Jaehyun not answering, rather typing, the blackberry keys louder than his coworkers, the two turned to ask again.

“Jaehyun, you’re down for lunch?” Johnny questions, making his way towards the trash can, depositing away his cup, the eyes on the ‘7’ icon turning to Mark. Jaehyun hums in response, putting his phone away before actually speaking. “Uh, maybe next time. I have something to do.” An apologetic smile, Johnny understanding but Mark lets out a teasing chuckle. 

“Lunch with a special friend?” 

“Actually, I’m helping your wife.”

He didn’t want to make it obvious but Jaehyun put enough emphasis on ‘your’. “She asked for a favor and I always say yes, so...” Jaehyun shrugs, sipping the last of his own coffee.

The air was shifting to hostility the more Mark’s expression began to change, slowly but surely. His eyes followed every move Jaehyun made, ignoring how all the 7’s glared at him, even his own. Johnny was no fool, if Jaehyun couldn’t feel the building hostility, Johnny was clearly feeling and seeing it. His eyes advert from both men as he watched how quickly a mood can be annihilated.

“Always? What do you mean, always?” Mark turns his back to the other two —almost to shield himself from the accusatory numbers—, throwing away his not empty cup and going to the sink to wash off the stickiness from the coffee that spilled on the sides.

The second oldest man mustered a shrug, taking a cup from the water cooler and pouring some in to get rid of that coffee taste on his tongue. Bitter coffee taste, the one lacing Mark. “I mean, I can’t say no to her… if she’s busy and can’t run an errand she asks me to run it for her and in return she bakes me a cheesecake. We all win!” Johnny smiles at Jaehyun at the mention of the desert and his unconvincing naivety.

Mark didn’t speak, his mouth forming an ‘O’ at the realization that the reason you always baked was not for you or your coworkers but for his friend. For doing something you had originally asked of him. Just in the past month you had baked six cheesecakes and all of them after you asked him for a favor that he turned down. All this time he thought you were just baking for pleasure but now he knows Jaehyun helps ease your stress. Jaehyun, not Mark.

“I’m gonna head back…” Johnny’s voice broke him out of his train of thought, the elder’s eyes adverting from his two younger friends before opening the door. Jaehyun announces that he’ll follow behind, leaving Mark to his own thoughts for just a second.

One could call that the start of his demise. If anything Mark would’ve been better off knowing you did everything on your own but now he felt an unjust slight resentment that you ran to one of his friends. Guilt, if you will, for his own faults.

He didn’t let the thought go the entire day and it didn’t become better once you had arrived back home with groceries and his suit in hand. Worse off, he saw you struggle with the heavy items but he made no effort to help, rather analyzed the components in your hands. Contrary to you, upon seeing him, a warm smile spreads on your face. Putting everything down and going up to him to envelope him in an embrace and a tender kiss.

“Hi…” your breathy voice showing obvious signs of agitation. 

“Hey… why are you so late?” He questions, accusatory for something he’s not sure what he’s looking for yet; a minute frown as he looks through the contents of your grocery totes. Cream cheese, graham cracker, sweet condensed milk… a pit in his stomach formed, a growing feeling of confusion followed.

“Another cheesecake?” He questions, taking out the items and starting to put them away. To say you were taken aback was an understatement, your chest swole and you felt some relief seeing he was actually helping. You nod, holding onto the back of a chair to catch yourself. Mark hums, turning to look at you. Upon seeing how sunken and dull you were looking, his expression turned to one of concern.

“Have you eaten?” Mark asks, his hand reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah! We had a dinner party for Venetia’s leave.” ‘I told you about it..’ you want to add. No matter, you knew it was futile with how he hums in response. It was true about the dinner part but you hadn’t eaten there, Jungwoo and you had decided to blow it off and go to a soup bowl restaurant instead.

He hums again, putting away all the other groceries and leaving just the cheesecake items. “Seventh cheesecake this month isn’t it?” 

His piqued interest sounded hostile and cold, eradicating any sense of relief that he cared. “Yeah, why not?” Responding with a smile and knitted eyebrows, Mark didn’t add more. In turn, he took his items from the living room to the bedroom, opting to continue working there. 

Looking at the empty spot he left, a sigh left your lips before continuing to fulfill your part of the deal with Jaehyun. You didn’t know if the sigh was from relief or grief. Regardless, his care was too good to be true. 

The next morning he had woken to your spot on the bed empty and cold, a building resentment and loneliness starts to grow when times before he didn’t feel them. Odd. 

Giving himself a few minutes of rest time until he decided to get up and do his daily routine. By the time he had reached the table, his breakfast was covered to keep the warmth in, glowering when he noticed it was slightly warm but getting cold. A note on the side of his dishes. 

‘Decided to head early. Sorry in advance if the food gets cold. Love, y/n’

A small heart next to your name, Mark smiles to himself. As he ate his breakfast, his concerns and the slight jealousy he had gained overnight dissipated. He felt foolish for questioning your relationship with Jaehyun. What was there for him to be jealous of? Hell, Jaehyun was taking care of the burdens he didn’t want to, that’s a win-win situation, no? Jaehyun gets his treat, you remain content, and he isn’t bothered. Yeah, he can now think clearly and see that’s fair. Nothing ever comes out of your close friend being nice and considerate of your wife, right? 

Hmm…

Nevertheless, Mark shakes his head with a goofy content smile whilst he drops his dishes in the sink, passing cold water over them. You picked up his suit yesterday and today it was hanging, freshly steamed furthermore. His shoes clean and shiny by the door, food you cooked for him in his system, and overall a lovely note you wrote him. Mark knows you love him and only him, what a stupid little preoccupation yesterday was.

“Dumbass.” He chuckles to himself, squeezing a plushie he had gotten you that ever since, you left on the bed, your smell on it; you’d always be near him and oh how he loved that security. Surely he has to let you know how he adores your love.

Walking towards your desk to look for whatever piece of paper, he sat on your chair, opening the drawers and searching for at least a sticky note.

Upon finding the nearest notebook, Mark pulled it out along a pen. Opening it to where he could find a clean page; he stumbled on multiple pages of frantic writing and numbers written all over. Sometimes they went down and sometimes they went up, if the number was higher than last, a large ‘x’ crossed it in red. He didn’t think much of it, maybe something to do with work statistics?

Curiosity still got the best of him, he’s never seen you write messily. Everything you’ve written has been tidy and neat, so this was interesting. Flipping through the pages, he found two lists. They read the same thing but the one on the left had more x’s whilst the one on the right had check marks, sometimes nothing.

Pick up cleaners,

fix the leak in the kitchen

pick up order from cafe 7 dream

find a new car inspection place

pick up Venetia’s leave cake

Those were all things you had asked him to do and things he had told you he couldn’t do on account of all the excuses he made. All striked through, ink bolder and fresher the more recent the task was. All those crosses were for him and he figured all the check marks were for Jaehyun.

Some of the stuff seemed too intimate for Jaehyun to do for you. Picking up the cleaners? Fix the leak? Find a car inspector?

Jaehyun had no responsibility to find any of this stuff for you but there he was doing what Mark couldn’t and that jealousy he felt yesterday was back again. That meant you hadn’t picked up his suit yesterday, right? It was Jaehyun who had done so and his grubby hands must’ve left oils for you to steam it again?

God, no… he was being irrational again!

The more he flipped through the pages, Mark read the small and longer paragraphs. Most of them written frantically and showed obvious frustration. It seemed to be completely full of vent paragraphs. You wrote down your desperations and thoughts, often seeming angry and saddened. He cared for all that but they became unreadable the more upset you became as you went on. 

Few things that made his head pound and chest start to rip apart were how many times he read two names over and over: ‘Jungwoo’ and ‘Jaehyun’. You met them through him, he had brought them into your life but now he was finding that to be a mistake. 

Ironic, isn’t it? You spoke so well of them. Every paragraph regarding them was neatly written and cohesive. For the most part you were just thanking them for making your life easier.

‘Keep forgetting to look for new posts, Jungwoo has been helping but he seems kinda down when he does.’

‘Dinner coordinator keeps bringing the same catering and it’s growing tiring, seaweed treats are hell. Thank god Jungwoo took me out instead. — 03.29.08, 22:37.’

Last night’s date. You had told him you ate at the company dinner but instead went out with his friend and didn’t think to tell him, opting to lie about it. He knew you loved him but now he was questioning if the amount was just as big as he thought.

‘Wonder if Jaehyun is getting tired of these favors and cheesecakes. I don’t think he even finishes an entire one in a month and I’ve baked seven for him, I fear for his fridge. It’s not as big as I thought now that he moved. Nevertheless, thank god I can count on him to actually do these favors for me.’ 

The last part stung horribly. It didn’t seem to be a jab on him from how you wrote it but he took it as such given he always did something wrong when you asked him to just so you would stop or he’d make excuses for the same reason. He now took issue with you preferring Jaehyun’s and Jungwoo’s help over his. 

He also hadn’t told you Jaehyun moved apartments so there was no reason for you to know how big his fridge was. It stung more that neither of his friends told him about the close friendship they held with you, his wife. 

The last note on the paper is what caught his attention; ‘Lunch with Jungwoo at Cafe 7 Dream, 12:30 today.’

It’s only 08:35 in the morning as of right now; he got dressed and put away all your stuff trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t rummage through. As he buttoned up his shirt all he could think about was going to said cafe and seeing what it was all about. A part of him told him to stop being stupid, you and Jungwoo were friends too given the company you two work in, so a lunch shouldn’t be bad. But he couldn’t shake off this uncertainty.

His day went monotonously. From the moment he made his way out of the apartment, to his daily drive through the freeway with a clear view of a big ‘7,' not drinking his daily coffee with his colleagues, to now being back in the car, looking at that same ‘7’ he sees daily while he roams for a parking spot.

Whatever was playing on the radio was static and the air around him stuffy, not even the rolled down windows being able to aid him. It was around 12:53 in the afternoon when he had arrived and parked a few spots away from the vast window of the cafe. Bringing down the sun visor, fingers strumming on the steering wheel, and his lips pursed, eyes roaming the area— Mark had spotted you and his friend in the outdoor section. 

His initial jealousy wasn’t present right now, he was mostly focused on the image that had never been presented to him: you were visibly upset. Throughout your six years of being together, you always remained calm and even when he spewed vile things towards you during one-sided arguments you never cracked.

Maybe that’s why you’ve lasted this long. He could say whatever he pleased and kept off his chest while you never gave him a negative reaction. For the most part whenever you didn’t respond in the arguments he’d angrily walk out of the situation to go meet with his friends while he left you to scribble your feelings onto the journal he stumbled upon just today.

Your arms flailed, hands forming into claws that whenever you were spewing something that angered you, clung to your flesh, leaving dents on it— must have been that intense if he could see those forming. Your hair was disheveled but your clothes intact besides the pantyhose you were clawing at earlier. You didn’t look dull anymore but you did look on the brink of angry tears.

In contrast to you, Jungwoo leaned back on his metal chair, hair kept well combed, suit intact and ironed, with a shit eating grin on his face as he nodded with everything you said. His words were slow, helping Mark in reading his lips and only being able to read just that sentence: “Let it all out, you don’t deserve this.” Every time he said those words, you’d slump over the table, head resting on your hands and nodding to yourself.

The perplexed expression on Mark’s face never left. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, leaning in against his wheel as if any of that would help him listen to the conversation. It worsened when Jungwoo took a small box from his pocket, handing it to you in which you’d give him an apologetic smile for ranting to him while also being thankful.

He didn't understand where all this came from. You have always been so calm, never letting things affect you let alone smoke. Hell, you're the reason he stopped smoking but here you were doing what he used to do with his friend.

At this moment he didn’t understand why he had rushedly gotten out of his car and inside the building. All the courage he mustered to go inside dying whenever he saw the both of you stand up from the table after paying.

His heart was palpitating in horror. He couldn’t excuse why he was there this time, he told you he didn’t know where this place was so it would only worsen your already horrible mood. Not to mention, he had nothing to say. How would he start the conversation? “I know I’ve lied to you about this place but what the fuck is your deal with Jungwoo and Jaehyun? What’s your journal all about?” No, he can’t let you know he’s been snooping, let alone have you think he’s jealous.

Mark could only follow behind a group of people walking to the counter, hiding amongst them and hoping you stayed enthralled in your conversation to not notice him. At least he was thankful he could finally hear the conversation but that dissipated the moment he heard Jungwoo’s voice.

“If you keep pushing away and shutting off your frustrations with him this won’t end well. You can’t just conform to keep him with you and let him do all he’s doing. You can’t let him act the way he does and hope he changes without asking. You know what my grandma would say? If you don’t speak, God won’t hear you. And he’s not hearing you. Are you not miserable in the relationship?”

It stung. It painfully stung deeply in his heart that he truly felt he was having a heart attack right now, cardiac arrest— whichever. It sounded oddly familiar.

“Mark says, 'If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.’ So which is it?” Jungwoo laughs, shrugging. “Seems God can’t make up his mind or he's fucking with us just because he can.”

Sadly for the both of you this was only the start of your demise. As for the following weeks, Mark had begun to dig deeper into this madness he was slowly learning he had created. Every time he was home alone, Mark began to read the notebook he had found. Your writing didn’t become any less incomprehensible but he was starting to learn what certain loops meant.

He wouldn’t say your writings were enjoyable, rather more concerning than anything but this is the closest he’ll get to truly knowing you. It still baffles him that after six years of being together, you were capable of hiding this much from him. The only time he could recall you actually being mad was the time both of you crossed paths with one of his childhood friends.

The atmosphere turned hostile and tense as the older male reprimanded him for not inviting them to his wedding to which Mark said he did, he even gave his mother the invitation directly to give to them. The look the two shared had made your insides churn, in that instance you wanted to cut your own chest to relieve that sting within.

You could handle a lingering look and his friends' questioning remarks whenever speaking to you, but what killed you was that it took him a week to regain his dignity after he bid him goodbye with a kiss to his cheek. The words: “They long to see you.” Cascading from his lips, but Mark smiles tenderly and awkwardly.

Mark only recalls you giving him blank stares and taking a while to answer him, conversations non-existent unless he started them. But Jungwoo got to see you tear your desk down, shred paper after paper, and cry in agony at the same time that entire week, knowing well what the older man had meant, you weren’t stupid after all, he’s not the only one who’s read someone’s secret stash of letters. 

That’s the only time he thinks you’ve been mad at him or resentful enough. If only he knew how many fits Jungwoo has experienced and cleaned. But while you might not be foreign to an empty bed, Mark was. When he felt your side of the bed still neatly made and the duvet cold, a sense of fear made him shoot up. 

He had gotten home before you that day once again, trusting that Jungwoo was giving you a ride not long after he arrived like always. After a few hours of working on some data and analysis to the point of not being able to eat the dinner you had woken up early to cook for him. Mark had decided to rest for a while not thinking of taking a nap until his eyelids feel heavy and his slumber commenced.

That was around 6:43pm, now it’s midnight with no signs of you in the bedroom and if he knew anything from those six months of living with a married couple— one of the spouses was up to something.

That’s where his fear rose and his chest started to constrain his breathing. You would never do anything to hurt him, right? Mark knew you loved him. Yes, you love him, you’d never do anything of the style. You're not her.

You're not her...

Opening the bedroom door with such force; he startled you, jumping once the doorknob slammed against the wall. His fears dissipated the instance his eyes laid on your sitting figure. Crouched over your desk with a pen on hand and arm covering the pages of that same notebook. While he was relieved to see you, now he was worried of what else you could add to wreck his nerves.

“When did you get home?” His raspy voice questions. You shrug, taking his presence, closing the notebook and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. 

“Maybe an hour ago? Jungwoo got quite drunk so Jaehyun took a while to pick us up.” 

Mark knew what jealousy felt like, he’s experienced it in the most hateful way and over all these years he trusted you enough to never feel this strongly ever again but his friends were starting to test his patience. It may be subconscious and a self inflicted fear but Mark knows what friends can do. 

“You didn’t say you were going out with Jungwoo.” That pitch of irritation laced his tongue, every word getting louder the more he shook his slumber away. His eyebrows furrowed unconsciously. He really didn’t want to have any reaction but he can’t reap what he sows.

Mark always started like this when an argument would ensue. You could handle his vile words and reproaches but you had a presentation tomorrow and the last thing you needed was for him to treat you like shit at midnight. You’ve had enough of your supervisor for that. 

“Company dinner meeting, Mark… I told you about the presentations.” Your voice was betraying you with how whiny it came out. But could anyone blame you? You had been ecstatically talking about this for almost a month, even Johnny knew about it. It just seems the man you married couldn’t be bothered enough to remember. 

Mark tried his hardest to pick at his brain and recollect the memories of you telling him. It was of no help that you hadn’t written about it in your journal either. All he had left was to deflect. 

“You could’ve called me to pick you up, though? Why did you have to call Jaehyun?” 

“Would you have gone? You've been sound asleep the while I've been here.”

Your tone took him aback, this was the first time he could hear some attitude and mocking in your voice. He didn’t know whether to be happy that for once you spoke to him like this or angry that the mention of Jaehyun was eliciting this response, almost as if you’re defending him.

Noticing the look of confusion on his face, you retracted any possibility of continuing this ensuing argument. Just like him, you’ll avoid any further action.

“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be there in a bit.”

He didn’t listen, just sunk his feet deeper into the tile, processing the whiplash of your actions. On the contrary, you walked past him to the bathroom, forgetting to turn off the stereo system, hoping your nightly ritual would help you not think about these happenings. Him? He’ll sulk like he is not at fault.

‘Oh, I think you’re holding the heart of mine. Squeeze it apart, that's fine…’ The melody mocks and lulls him goodnight. 

A similar situation happened days later. The days building up to that night, you hadn’t asked him for any favors. Times before he’d be glad but now he grew weary. The only outlier was that you weren’t baking, so had the rewards gone further than sweet treats? How far could you go?

No! Stop! Mark knows you’d never do anything like that, you’re not her, that’s a huge reason he fell for and married you. You ar– were perfect.

But then, why haven’t you asked anything of him yet? Was it truly futile now?

Deja vu hit, the bed was cold beside his own spot, your plushie thrown to the floor (the only difference), no sign of you, but the second he swung the door open, there you were. Sitting mindlessly on your desk, scribbling things he couldn’t see but knew he would struggle to understand later. He approached slowly, the only light source the lamp before you.

“What are you doing?” His voice is curious and soft in comparison to last time. You shrug like before, scribbling. “Nothing.” Precise yet somehow cold. No matter how much closer he got, by only a step, you shut the journal, throwing it in your drawer and turning the lamp off. He didn’t know how to take it, your actions swift and nonchalant but regardless you still made the effort to kiss him goodnight on the way to complete your night routine. 

01:48 read the stereo system. Mark hums, this night’s song mocking him again while his eyes look into the darkness and curves of your desk, directly at the drawer that held all your grievances. He contemplates it but it’s no use tonight.

‘I love him so much, it just turns to hate. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake. And someday you will ache like I ache.’ He chuckles, turning it off.

The next day was enough. You had left before him again, no reason as to why either but later he had learnt that Jaehyun had gotten into the office late with a Cafe 7 Dream drink in hand and not bought by Johnny.

He had taken your absence as an opportunity, looking at the positioning of things in your desk carefully to remember how he’d put everything back. Slowly but surely, he took the journal out, opening it to the new pages.

With the journal in hand, he steps into the kitchen, sitting on the dining table where his warm food rested. Warm enough to let him know you left not long ago. Effortlessly, he uncovers it, sliding the plates towards him and standing up to get a drink. The ice-cold water pitcher sat in front of him and he began his tasks.

‘Guilt floods me every time I ask Jaehyun and Jungwoo for favors. Is this excessive? Poor Jaehyun looks so tired, I think I have to ease it. He may claim it’s fine but how much cheesecake or danishes can someone eat without feeling the weight of burden grow as fat around his muscles?’ “What a way with words,” Mark scoffs to himself, accidentally biting the inside of his cheek, his teeth scolding him.

‘Jungwoo on the other hand is probably exhausted from my complaining. I see this as my karma for all the times I told friends to leave their bummy boyfriends. I get it now. This feeling is too strong. I can't just end it, I think… Regardless, I do need to stop with the favors, hell they’re easy so I can do them but it’s nice to not hear them complain or make excuses instantly. That’s selfish of me but I deserve some self indulgence from time to time. No… not at their expense at least...‘

00:59 at the time you began writing that.

He didn’t like that. He’s read enough for the past few weeks but nothing like this. The bummy part even less.

He won’t deny that he wished your food got stuck in his throat and suffocated him so he can drop dead with your journal in hand and true guilt arises in you when you find his body but that’s not him, that’s his jealousy and anger speaking. Maybe he was getting influenced by your entries, this is something you would say just not to him.

Mark scoffs again, sighing heavily, and pushing his chair to get out. He leaves the food uncovered and dishes dirty to complete his morning routine. Despite his anger he puts back your journal not counting on the wet back from the water pitcher but flaws are meant to happen when you’re letting frustration blind you. 

The day went in a blur from then until lunch. Snapped out of his trance by Johnny shaking his shoulder and their manager next to the taller man, Mark gave the two a fish out of the water look. One that made his manager pinch the bridge of his nose but shook it off while Johnny on the other hand gave him a questioning look. The man wasn’t stupid, he could see how distant Mark had been and at most kept to himself despite trying to act like everything is fine and bond with him and Jaehyun, but he’s not that great at covering the heart on his sleeve.

“Here, take the intern with you and ask for the lunch platter at Cafe 7 Dream, the meeting is in less than an hour and we still aren’t prepared.” The manager rushedly spoke, handing him his credit card, the gray hairs on his side seemingly growing with every word he spoke. It was a large investment meeting and he needed to secure this but he had been so careless that their hospitality was a wreck. 

Nevertheless, Mark agreed, the new intern standing behind the other two men that he hadn’t noticed her until she popped out, startling him a bit. She was young and timid, he hadn’t heard her speak but that little jump she caused him made her laugh apologetically. 

That’s the most verbal communication they had through the ride to the cafe. The radio was adamant on playing TVXQ and she enjoyed it while he focused more on the sounds the tires made and the honking from outside. Even when they arrived at the cafe they didn’t speak, if anything their expression said it all. He seemed tired and uninterested while she was indifferent with only polite smiles to her senior.

Crossing the threshold of the first doors, a familiar figure stops in front of him much to the other’s confusion when his indifference turns into a content smile. No matter how frustrated he was with what he had read, an inkling in him will always remind him of the affection he has for you. “Y/n, hi!” He exclaims, turning to you a hand reaching for your shoulder. You’re not too sure how genuine his giddiness is but in the moment for Mark, it’s the most sincere thing ever, more than you have ever been.

It’s not enough to convince you though, with your eyes flitting between him and the intern as he kisses your cheek and the other stands awkwardly behind only flashing you a quick greeting smile before looking around.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice broke the interactions, a hint of annoyance and to an extent accusatory over something that you haven’t voiced, turning to her again before looking back at him. The young girl wasn’t quite sure of how you felt but knew it was a safer bet to go order before their boss called, clenching his ass from how fast time went and he didn’t have things ready.

Clearing her throat, “I’m going to go order… The card?” She extends both hands, Mark takes out their manager’s card and hands it to her who bolts to the register. It doesn’t take Mark long to turn to you, smile slowly faltering, seeing your stare. Unsure if it’s a glare or if that’s how you look at someone when no longer adoring.

“Manager sent us to get something for a meeting.” He brings his smile back, hoping that would help. Yet, you hum and that’s all he gets. It takes a few seconds until your mouth, like a fountain, unexpectedly spouts something. “I’ve asked you to get things for me from here but you always say you don’t know where this place is.” A soft huff leaves you while forcing a smile. You can feel warmth rush from your skull down to your feet. It’s not pleasant, at all, but you can’t lose your cool right now. Not in front of him.

Perhaps if this had happened before reading your entries, Mark would have dismissed it but now he was growing knowledge of your behavioral cues and he can see your hands go behind your back, allowing your nails to cling onto your bare skin.

He musters a sigh and looks at his watch, the meeting was near. “We can talk about this later, pretty girl.” His hand reaches your arm to stop you although he makes sure to not let you know he knows about your little habit.

You shake your head, smiling up at him and going in for a kiss. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine. I just– don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later at home, okay? Okay.” You didn’t wait for a response and habits don’t die so he found it preferable to drop it. At least he’ll probably read about it in your journal soon and not have you complain in his ear.

Of course you’re not going to be in his ear when you’re on your phone frantically typing something and soon putting it to your own. Seems you’ll be blowing someone else’s ear off and it’s likely the poor loser will be Jungwoo. With every motion, flailing arm, and facial contortion– Mark knew enough of how this little thing made you feel and all he could react with was a grunt.

On weekends, by the time he began to rustle in bed and stretch, he’d be greeted with kisses and tight embraces. They often made him giggle but this weekend was much different. Once again, he woke up with the plush on the floor, a cold bed, and the window closed with only the racket outside the bedroom door. Everything was muffled but if there’s something he identified was the smell of food being made and those two laughs he’s known very well for quite a while now.

With some surprise, he jolts up. His body aches from the lack of stretching but his feet don’t care and drag him out of bed. Opening the door he’s met with Jungwoo and Jaehyun bickering about how heavy the couch was, soon to shift their attention to the movie that had been playing through broadcast TV. On the other hand he turned to look at you taking out things from a cabinet, Jungwoo rushing to help, a screwdriver in hand as he inspected the door– it creaked.

“Morning…” He greets, stretching a bit and hiding his yawn behind his arm. You make way towards him but the other two were quicker, taking his hand and continuing their greeting-shake. By the time you reach him, he kisses the top of your head, your arms around his torso in a hug like they should’ve been when he woke up. Jaehyun and Jungwoo throw each other a glance, one you both miss but that they mask with their teasing towards Mark.

“Morning? It’s nearly two.” Jaehyun begins, “Can you blame him? What does he have to do on a lovely Saturday?” Jungwoo continued but it came out rather bitter despite trying to be playful. Mark manages to laugh just like the rest of you, it doesn’t change the warning look you throw at Jungwoo who ignores it while removing the cabinet door, showing more chipped parts to it.

“Can you help me find something, then?” Mark dismisses the other two, looking directly down at you. Without hesitating you nod, walking to the room with him, your grasp on his torso not falling, rewarded with a tender smile of his. Unbeknownst to you two, the other pair give each other a glance again, although this time it lingers on each other. Disappointment and exhaustion painting itself on their features before going back to the favors.

The wooden door shut behind you two, Mark makes way to the restroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, leaving you situated on the bed and confused. “What are we looking for?” You question with some excitement as if this was a task you truly wanted when making him happy was enough.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” He finally speaks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, hair strands damp. “They’re just fixing some stuff.” You ease softly, smiling up at him as he stares at you. 

His hand perched on your shoulders, pushing you down on the mattress and met with a surprised squeaking giggle that he shut immediately with a kiss. Those same hands wrapped around your body pulling you flush against him as his tongue works against your own.

Lips became slick by the moment but he felt so much pour into that kiss. So much longing and desire. A mixture of lust and guilt and that balance may be why he felt the need to keep you here in this room with him and not out there with those vultures.

Possession is the word he’s looking for.

His hands began a journey down your body, feeling every curve until they rested on your hips. Inching closer to the hem of your shorts, teasing their entrance under. It was enough for you to gasp quietly, feeling his cold damp fingers while he kissed you, smiling into it. He swallowed every word and protest before you could even spew them. 

Your own hands on his hair, lips submissive to his. A moan when you feel his digits fully in between your legs. You shake your head but not in protest but rather of how much you needed his touch. “Say something…” He whispers against your lips, no smile on his face. “Please…” You beg, his fingers making slow circles to not hurt you but enough to get you to lubricate and use that instead.

The scene was greedy and lustful but ultimately, he was reminded of those two out there and the reason as to why they were present lingered. Was the couch and cabinet door that important that you had to call the little crew? No matter how displayed you are for him, with your hands holding onto him, lips kissing his own, and legs open for his own disposition– Mark was still aggravated.

Softly he pulled away from you, caressing your face with his free hand while his fingers went to work. “Why didn’t you ask me to help instead of them?” He tries to seem soft spoken like his caresses but those become rougher the more he speaks. “Would you have done it?” There he knew how much little faith you had on him and the scene from a while back repeats.

“I’d go to the end of the world for you, Y/n.” Mark confesses into the kiss, neither of you too sure how truthful that was. His fingers make their entrance into you, slowly moving to elicit a response. Your body ran hot, his clothed figure above you, silently begging for you to at least believe a fraction of what he said. Those pleading and mopping eyes as he pumped his ring and middle finger, increasing the pace.

You believe me like a God,

‘You’re being so cruel.’ You want to tell him, to engrave it in his brain but it instead came out as a pleased disgruntled moan, one he took as accepting his lies. Mark smiles, head tilting to the side before lowering it to begin kissing your chest. Tongue lapping on the dents your collarbones create, whispering his ailments in them to the point of flooding and creating lakes that flowed down to your perked nipples after unbuttoning your blouse. His tongue, scorching and velvet against them. Granted was a jolt and a gasp when you felt his mouth wrap around one, biting softly to soon suction on the tit.

I’ll destroy you like I am.

Teeth grace your goosebump filled skin, kissing where his teeth left razor marks. Threatening crimson to spill only to be a false alarm, lingering pain and pleasure was all that was intended to reside. His fingers slowed the pace, blunt thrusts per second that left an ache between your legs when his palm came in contact with your outer skin, but oh how good it felt when his fingers hit your sweet spot. It doesn’t help that by this point he had inserted a third finger, the stretch causing so much more need within you.

His mouth travels up the path he created after years of savoring your body. Tongue feeding the dried stream, cool when its source disappeared to carve marks on your neck. It was so juvenile but he wanted you to go out of that room with some swelling for those two to see. Eliciting another moan from you, Mark’s free hand softly comes up to your mouth, covering and sealing it with shushes against your ear.

“Do you want them to know what we’re doing?” He whispers in the same location, you shake your head fervently, feeling hazy and growing even more needy. “Good girl.” He grins, removing his hand to hold your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. His teeth gracing your lower lip, softly nipping it to soon ease the pain he’s caused with his tongue– as he always does.

His fingers kept working their magic between your legs despite the constriction of your shorts, his wedding band no longer feeling cold inside of you but the fact that he didn’t think about removing it made you feel more aroused. To feel that metal piece unite you besides legality but through flesh and body.

Mark must have felt your growing arousal, especially with how much easier it was to ease his fingers within you. The clamping of your walls, more of a clue. In this instance he wanted to be cruel, and he attempted so. His hand stopped moving, rapidly getting out of your shorts and causing a desperate groan to leave your lips, legs quivering from the abrupt halt.

Just as he was going to cause a drought to the land of your skin and mouth, your hands took a hold of his body. Wrapping around his shoulders to hold him near, causing him to stumble slightly but not to topple over you; able to hold himself up. He won’t deny that knocked the wind out of him to a degree, feeling like in any instant he could have crushed you but pride and satisfaction soon filled him.

“Please, Mark… let’s finish at least.” You beg, your voice drunk off of his touch and whiny from how long it had been since you received anything from him. “Yeah? You want that?” He questions, making fun of you with that smug grin on his face, remaining features feigning compassion. He smiles at your desperate nod, mimicking the motion when he laughs quietly, kissing you again. 

Swallowing every single one of your silent moans that he told you to keep quiet to not let those two outside know what he was doing to you. Thing is, he did want them to know, he wanted them to see how fucked you will look once he is done with you. He wants them to see how your legs spasm when trying to walk and see how marked and irritated your neck is. He’s simply making fun of you right now and you’re falling for it because you will be anything he wants. Even a fool.

His hand slowly slides off your shorts and panties, caressing your warm legs in the process. His once calloused fingers from his creative days that he left behind now soft and tender. You held his face in between your own hands, making sure he never kept too much distance between your lips, that fresh taste of mint still lingers on his tongue.

“But do you deserve it?” Mark immediately stops his caressing and kissing, the words echoing in the cavern of your mouth, you swallow them. His gaze is cold but curious, scanning your own for a response, a witty one.

In this instance he tries to remove his touch from you, your grip on him despite how his knee teases its clothed friction against your exposed and destitute clit. He had been denying you an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes, depriving the other two from knowing what was going on but Mark didn’t care, he was luxuriating in this.

“You’re being so cruel.” You finally say the words that had been covering the walls of your brain and heart. Needy yet angry tears prickling the corner of your closed eyes. It wasn’t just lust but the fact that he was playing dirty when you’re so vulnerable and in dire need of getting something from him. For once.

“You think so?” His knee stops, eyebrow quirking, shit-eating grin falling. You nod, a pout forming, making things worse. ‘Did you really have to cry now?’ He asks himself, huffing as he shakes his head, pulling down his sleeping shorts.

“You jump to conclusions so quickly, it's always such a shame.” He doesn’t dare look directly at your face as he speaks this, knowing that the constraint and squeeze of your heart was showing. No, instead you’re met with the warm feeling of his spit falling off his tongue onto your cunt, some on the tip of his cock.

To be given something forced you to shut your eyes, a moan of relief enclosed within the four walls of the bedroom you shared with him. It became louder when you felt the intrusion of his dick within your walls, his mouth covering yours to drown those sounds. He likes to cherish these sounds for his own entertainment.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to him, the girth feeling foreign despite how familiar you are with every inch and crevice of his body. Slowly, he picks up the pace, raising your leg to prop it beside him. “See how things turn out when you’re patient?” He asks, searching for your eyes but they’re shut.

The most he gains are pleasured moans in the crook of his neck. Mark can’t figure out how satisfied he is with that answer, so his hand opts to slap the inside of thigh, causing you to whine but reward it with kisses to his neck.

To be fair you didn’t think this could last long. Not when you abstain from self gratification, knowing that only he can bring you to an orgasm and given it’s been a while since you two slept together, an orgasm was long overdue. The friction of his pelvis on your clit while he thrusted was not helping. Just feeling that extra sense of overstimulation while his shaft filled every nook and cranny of your cunt, feeling his length bulge in your stomach.

Holding your body to his, your face buried in his neck begging him to please let you come. The hand beneath you pushing you flush against his own body. If it wasn’t for his shirt as of now, he’d be more vocal with how well you’re both feeling his cock go in and out of you. For now he’s relying on his sweet words, worshiping how well you’re taking him.

Specifically: “Feel how perfectly you were meant for me, pretty girl?” He grabs your hand holding his shoulder, pressing it against your stomach and for some reason that makes you feel like you could come any second now, begging him silently to let you. To please grant you this one thing.

“Fuck, Mark… just give me this, please…” You cry out, eyes screwed shut, lashes wet from pained and pleasured tears. You felt it in your core, you felt how bad your body clamored for some release.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks, his own words struggling to come out unlike the pre-come lining your walls. “As much as you.” You claim, fingernails clinging to his skin, a shallow groan leaving him. He likes to know how much you need him and if you were going to the lengths of hurting him to leave your message, so be it.

With every thrust, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder blades, sliding down his back. Whether he was picking up masochism or basked in the pleasure of the sadism he inflicted, Mark felt it. He felt how he gave out before you. Spurts of come followed with desperate deep moans that you swallowed in dire need of your own release.

But he was cruel. Very fucking cruel that the second that he stopped spasming and decorating your walls, his actions halt. For a few seconds he holds his position, head on your chest trying to relax his body full of adrenaline. If he was to look at you, he knew your face would beg him for your own release.

After a minute or two he pulls away slowly, taking his shirt off and reaching for the wipes inside his night stand. He warms them with his breath, moving them around to disperse the heat, only to lay them flat between your legs to clean off anything that fell out (although not much), propping your legs up and laying some pillows behind your back so you could rest for now.

Tongue poking his cheek before sighing and turning his back to you. “That’s cruel.” He didn’t say anything furthermore, his voice harsh and cold. Locking the bathroom door behind him and leaving you sprawled on the bed, arousal immediately terminated and the only feeling was of regret for saying what you did and letting things go this far. You couldn’t cry either, the other two would probably cut you off this time for good. So you’ll deny your body from letting out its emotions again. Afterall, Mark has made you be so resilient in that aspect.

Jungwoo’s and Jaehyun’s tasks were complete by the time Mark had gotten out of the shower, lunch too. The entire time underwater he spent it beating himself for the decisions he’s made to let things go this way. A month ago he was content thinking his wife loved him despite his flaws but Jaehyun’s big mouth made him unravel slowly that he was doing more harm than building an eternal home. Mark was resentful, he’s not going to deny that. He hated how quickly theatrics and how easy things he saw as fine can fall.

It stung more that you were laughing uncontrollably with the other two, seemingly neither had anything to mention of the marks on your neck or the completely different outfit you have in comparison to the shorts and blouse from earlier. Hell, Jaehyun is sitting in his chair rubbing salt on the wound and you are not saying anything upon noticing Mark; it sucked the life out of him. A slug in a bath of salt.

“Sit, I’ll fix your plate.” You smile at him as if nothing had happened in the four walls of the bedroom, your conformity noticeable. By this point he had taken the cold seat he was unfamiliar with. Sitting across from you was not something he was accustomed to, not in his own home at least, but here he was, watching two men who actually do drop everything for you. Two men that were his friends first, cracking jokes just to make you smile and laugh at which you did, enough to hunch over, something you haven't done with him in a while. 

Mark had blocked out the conversation completely, watching your moves and theirs. Your facial expressions and where your hands landed from time to time. That deafness fell when you placed the plate before him. The presentation made it obvious that others had gotten to your food before him. The mixture of ingredients painting the canvas of his plate faster than prior times when he was the first to cut through the masterpiece of your dishes. This time it was tampered and by the looks of Jaehyun’s still neatly moved around plate, he was the one to break through first.

Throughout lunch Mark tried his best to not speak, only replying when spoken to or agreeing in some sense. Things got worse when your cell phone kept buzzing and buzzing uncontrollably on the kitchen counter that made the other two give each other a glance, this time, not gone unnoticed by him and piquing his interest further.

The incessant buzzing continues, enough that Jungwoo sighs before lolling his head to give you a weird look. “Is it that dick?”  

‘Oh?’ Mark thinks to himself, an eyebrow raising as he begins to chew slower. Your glare towards Jungwoo to hush him is futile when Jaehyun joins. “Haven’t you told him to stop bothering you after work?” He sounded angry, the type of rage Mark should have, not Jaehyun. In his mind: Jealousy and that made his feelings worse.

How selfish.

“What dick? What are you guys on about?” Mark was so annoyed and frustrated at this point that venom laced every single one of his words, spraying it as he flayed his hands. Your silence made it worse, more painful was that you did so while Jaehyun and Jungwoo took it upon themselves to explain. The two, immensely tired of you not saying anything, of not speaking up.

Jungwoo goes first, he knows, they work together for Christ’s sake. “What’s his name? Ah, whatever… Y/n’s floor colleague has been bothering her for a while, you should know.” He frustratedly shakes his head, fork digging into his plate without noticing the look Mark throws at you. “Yeah…” He mutters, eyes never leaving you, all knowing he’s lying and upset.

“You should really report him, Y/n-ie.” Jaehyun breaks through, forcing Mark’s neck to snap and look at him. He was just making things worse because all Mark could feel was his lunch rapidly collecting in his throat. Cutlery dropping from his hands.

‘Y/n-ie’?! What an insolent fuck! That’s what Mark thought of Jaehyun. How dare he use a diminutive for you? Who the fuck did he think he was? Not even he, Mark, your husband called you that. What a fucking asshole.

How selfish.

A coward too, he wouldn’t know how to react either way. Instead he revels in your words as a distraction. “My boss seems to like him a lot. The only one getting in trouble would be me.” You sigh, fork moving food around. Mark looked between you and your actions, you noticed him, that you took a few bites to make him stop.

“Why don’t you apply to where we work?” He suggests, chewing what was on his fork, now using it to point between him and Jaehyun. Foolish to not grasp yet how that would mean seeing Jaehyun more and having it rub in his face that even under the same roof you’ll run to him for favors.

You liked the idea, it was easy to notice how much you perked up at the fact that he suggested being together 24/7 no matter the different departments.

Jungwoo had other plans, “Then you’d leave me alone.” He pouts childishly. On other occasions he’d laugh too and call him cute but he doesn’t think he can see Jungwoo as fondly as before. “Move to my floor instead.” He continues to test the waters but is met with a kind giggle and shrug from you.

The afternoon transpired with finishing lunch. Jaehyun had insisted on cleaning the dishes while Jungwoo the pots. Mark on the other hand sat on the couch, eyes often stealing glances on how you interacted with the other two. If you tried to clean, they’d reject the idea and tell you to just go sit and do what Mark is doing: nothing; an obvious jab. 

Ending their visit with discussing the kick-back Johnny was hosting at his place in a few weeks. Something about the Champions or US Open? You’re not sure. You were growing more worried about Mark, that you ended up telling whoever to just text you the deets. They smiled with a nod… and a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye while waving to Mark who perked at the scene. He felt his eyes warm and heavy. Not sure if they were tears beginning to form from jealousy or insecurity. 

You throw him an acknowledging smile while making your way to the bedroom. He stood up, leaving the TV on to follow behind. Before you could open the closet door to fetch something to sleep in, you feel his arms wrap around you. There was desperation to his grab, his hold was rough. Your back hit his chest, feeling his exasperated breath on your neck. Soft kisses at first but nipping soon after to leave his name all over you again, claiming you since it seemed like the others weren’t being repelled.

“Mark?…” You call out, his hands knead your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?… Why did you keep–” ‘everything’ he wanted to say, “that from me?” 

“Come on–” you intend to plead but he’s not letting it go. “Why?!” He asks exasperatedly against your face while he leaves wet kisses on the skin, pleadingly. “I didn’t want to burden you.” You confess, a whine at the harsh grasp.

“You’re my wife! I need to know these types of things, Y/n. You can’t just keep things from me, how can we be good to– how can it be good for us?” He exclaims; angry and wailing all at once.

‘How can we be good together like this?’ He wanted to say, biting his tongue to not tell truths while sober. Mark didn’t know what it was, but it hurt. He had been thinking about this for weeks. How to ask you overall about the things you’ve hidden from him but now that he has the chance to bring it up, he can’t help but feel resentful and pained. 

Why did you trust Jaehyun and Jungwoo more than him? He’s your husband.

He expected that once married, loyalty would be granted to him no matter what, one way or another. Just like she had granted it to Donghyuck despite how flawed their marital logic was.

Sure, he made things worse but would the universe be cruel enough for him to be in Hyuck’s shoes years later? He deserved it, he knew, something at least, but that ill side of him– what he had learned from her plagues him and demands you to love him unconditionally. To do things on your own without the help of others even when he’s the one to deny you any aid, when he’s at fault.

Mark is miserable and he expects you to be so too… even more than you already are.

Misery loves company.

His hands stopped their harsh kneading, turning you around to look at him. His tired and weary eyes looked straight into yours. But while he felt resentful and confused, you felt odd. Why was he acting like he cared all of the sudden? It was strange and while you appreciated it to an extent, you also hated it.

You weren’t used to it at least, and you weren’t sure if this act would last. You don’t want to admit it but that voice hidden in the vault of your heart loathes him more than anything.

“Okay…” You nod. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you things more often, yeah?” 

“Please…”

You nod and he nods, pleadingly; he’s not content and neither are you. 

After that discussion, the day transpired as if nothing had happened. He had returned to the living room leaving you to do whatever while he kept his distance. Only answering with hums and nods whenever you come out of the room.

Did you mind? No, it was so normalized it didn’t make you angry anymore. You actually felt like things were back to normal and this was sufficient enough. Mark on the other hand tried everything to ignore how he felt or regulate those emotions since he wasn’t too sure who he was mad with. 

By the time he had figured he was over it, you had fallen asleep alone like all those times he did weeks prior. A warmth filled his chest at the thought. An inkling telling him to wake up before you do the following day just to leave that dissatisfaction you had left in him, not accounting with how disappointed you were with him already that it wouldn’t affect you in the slightest.

He wouldn’t do it, though. Not because he cared enough, but because he wasn’t planning on waking up early to be petty. What he will do is go back to the living room and let his fingers roam like Thing until those crumpled and messy pages sat on his lap and he laid on the couch, stereo system on.

Instantly he’s met with those familiar sharp corners and loops. Numbers, increasing and decreasing significantly. The larger ones bold from rage, the decreasing one's neatly written with smiley faces next to them. He still couldn’t figure out what they meant but he surely enjoyed the recipes you kept adding to the journal and the doodles of how they turned out. Although, he felt that they lacked so much substance.

All of these felt either welcoming or asked that he be eradicated from this earth for the way he’s breaching your privacy, acting like an over controlling strict father despite being your husband. Almost like his dad, but don’t tell him that or he’ll throw a fit. For having lived so many lives, he's surely turning into the worst version of himself.

Through more flipping to see if he missed anything, he came across some interesting notes. All which made his stomach churn and that pride he would once feel, turned to– well, some type of disgust and concern…

‘I’ll do anything for him but every day I’m going insane with tense trials. It’s fine. If I have to go insane to stay with him I will.’

Mark sighs heavily, hands covering his face to soon slide off hoping his flesh would fall with them, groaning to himself.

Fuck, he loved you. In a fucked up way he did but how much could he endure knowing things aren’t fine and dandy? Sure, his first instinct is to try and fix things but there’s also that part that won’t let him strive for any change and it’s winning.

Change hasn’t been the kindest to him in the past. Hell, it’s the reason he’s morphed into what he is now but you accept him this way. That’s what the incessant and pestering part of him told him to let things be and just act like he doesn’t know what you truly are.

He should be glad, no? To know that you love him so much that it’s killing you. Yet, he isn’t. He’s not sure why, maybe because of his deep buried true morality but he has also grown to be selfish and he wants to relish in the glory of your love until you hit a breaking point.

For once he doesn’t want to be a Bernal character and it seems this is where he is slowly breaking that pattern— albeit, he is not enjoying it either. 

Perhaps it was the hour, his growing resentment, anger, and hurt, or he was overstimulated that caused the music in the background to tremble and clog his ears the longer he kept reading. Lists upon lists of things you had to do at work followed by entries on how much longer your hours would run every instance you paid no mind to that dick that the guys described.

Countless entries of your boss calling your attention after that asshole complains. Instances in which, despite how many pictures of Mark you put up in your cubicle, he makes an effort to make them disappear any time you’re not near. On company dinners, Jungwoo and you make it your life’s mission to slither away from the crowd– to be seen but not noticed, enough to not be reprimanded when you’re miles away from danger.

‘Jungwoo mentions in passing every opening in his floor as an incentive to ask for a transfer. Going as far as getting letters of assistance to request my temporary time in the department. Hours to days, they have been great but not everything lasts. With just one foot back inside in my department, the entire mood shifts and it’s back to reality.’

Mark doesn’t understand why his chest aches every time he reads your journal. Perhaps there’s a moderate amount of empathy but he also feels hurt knowing you’re hiding so much from him.

Years worth of things and even if you don’t say it, you make it known you hate the person he is. Mark is sure that if you weren't attached to him like you are, you’d loathe him the way you loathe everyone who has wronged you. He wonders how long it will be until your love runs out and he will finally become one of them.

He shouldn’t expect it but if it happened with Donghyuck who promised to never leave him, of course it can happen with you who he has wronged just as bad as his brother, even if you do everything in your power to prove him wrong. Mark tends to bite the hand that feeds him, if he gnaws for far too long, surely there will be consequences.

03:46, a warm night in 2008… Aggravated and nauseous from making your suffering about himself, Mark dictates that it was enough meddling for the day. Tiresome and bleary-eyed, head thumping achingly with the music debilitating him; Mark stands up frustratedly to turn off Sinead O’Connor angrily screaming ‘you’re a liar’ over and over making him forget about the journal on his lap.

The vegan leather taunts him with its loud thump against the floor, screeching as he picks it up but in the process he drops some notes. “Fuck me!” He curses frantically, knowing you’ll definitely know he’s been snooping when none of these end up where you originally placed them. He starts to panic, he feels his heart race dangerously, his aching head is now spinning, flipping through pages to see where he can put these in, yet in the process he stops.

“Don’t beat yourself up because of him. I’ll always be on your corner and so will Jungwoo. I love you, y/n. – Jaehyunie ♡”

I love you, y/n… Not ‘we love you’ but ‘I. I love you’.

Mark’s blood runs cold, his eyes bulge. In that moment he feels his chest and heart compress, squeezing the life out of him.

This is what Mark’s fears came to. He worried so much about your unconditional love becoming conditional, that the universe allowed him to see the incriminating clue that told him that sooner than later that was to happen. Right?

 ‘Dinner on me today! NO buts! Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?! XOXO — Snoops XD.’

The pitch black ink taunts him, questioning how recent or how old these must be. The handwriting felt juvenile with every smooth corner and small bottoms. The top of every letter felt bubbly and messy when connecting. Jaehyun’s could still be neat when messy and for some reason that bothered Mark more.

Unbeknownst to Mark, the papers were crumpling between his shaky fingers. As shaky as his breath restraining whatever he was feeling. ‘Who else can take care of you if not for Jaehyun and me?’ Mark repeats to himself that same question for a hundred more times, each making him more angry. ‘Who else but her husband? Me!’ He wants to yell at the top of his lungs. Drill it in the minds of everyone in your shared circle. He was capable of taking care of you!

But being capable doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t nor put effort into doing so.

No, Mark didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to jump into conclusions of infidelity or anything down that rabbit hole. He knew you wouldn’t do it. He wants to think that, he wants to believe it. You’re literally ruining yourself for him, so why would you do all that to throw it all away? Regardless, he can’t swallow the lump in his throat. 

He also once thought him and Hyuck would be in each other’s lives until they died. It later turned into him believing Hyuck would fade into the shadows of this earth and not ever see him because she would be his, choosing him, but that didn’t happen. In fact it was the opposite. He also didn’t become the renowned artist he was in his college years with a list full of connections that left him when he fell from grace. 

He didn’t end up thriving in the studio where he was meant to start over and is now in a dead-end design engineering job because of his father and his connections, not Mark’s. Did he know anything about it going in? He knew the word design but oh god how far can connections go if he landed something like that.

Even you, he met you because of his father, and the bells of the life he avoided for years rang incessantly letting him know no one can run from their faith. No matter how hard they try.

It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t in Hyuck’s shoes, it only mattered that he now knew how much pain Hyuck was going through seeing his wife rejoice in the care and love of men he considered friends. That and the fact that he was making your unraveling all about himself, at least they can share that too.

He couldn’t understand how you acted so peaceful and put together when during lunch he’d visit the cafes you frequented with Jungwoo and found you the same as the first time. Exasperated, vexed, and angry with a cigarette between your fingers when you two were to leave.

A chuckle on his lips remembering all the times you pestered him to quit smoking because you wanted him for many years to come. Now he’s not sure if you want to be with him as much, no matter how many times you write about it.

“You’re still a liar, you’re still a liar, you’re still a liar!”

Monday rolled around in which Mark swore to not allow Jungwoo another lunch date with you. Furthering his selfishness and restricting your moments of relief so he could take that time up. You wouldn't mind, right? It’s him after all…

It goes to say that when he stepped through the ample threshold of your floor with a cute little bag in his hand and some drinks in the other, that confusion crossed your mind before that thought was pushed back by adoration. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a warm smile. You felt like a child whose parents never showed up for any activities but this one. That childish glee and relief of knowing that you are loved. “Can’t pay my wife a visit?” Mark retaliates with a cheeky smile, leaning in to give you a short but sweet kiss.

You want to say it felt like when you first began dating. So sweet, tender, and soft. How he was before you married and his facade fell, showing how dependent he was. His small acts of love come through.

You want to believe it so bad that you’re willing to push back the tiny voice in your head trying to force you to question what he wanted out of you if he was willing to visit you this far.

“Well yeah,” You giggle in an effort to leave your desk. “Come, let’s go to the rooftop.” Your hand takes a hold of his wrist, pulling him along until that incessant blob of human flesh presents itself right in front of you both, blocking the way. 

“Well look at that. Your husband, right? Didn’t think you’d like the soft ones…” A mocking grin slapped on his face, arms crossed against his chest. He wasn’t much taller than Mark but he sure was confident to take a step closer to you both. Mark opts to carry all bags in one hand, twisting his wrist to hold your hand rather than you him.

You sigh, looking for ways to respond but Mark doesn’t give you time, walking around him with you in front, ignoring any calls from him to go back for a conversation. Such an insufferable man, Mark was aware but to you, this moment, you were still treating it like one of your earlier dates. His attentiveness and courage of protecting you. You missed that Mark and any resentment from marrying him faded for now.

“That’s him?” Mark breaks the silence, the walk to the rooftop consisting of him complaining from these few seconds they met. If he thought this much from only that timeframe, you wonder how long he would have lasted in your shoes. 

You responded to his complaints with nods and hums, taking a seat across from him on the bistro table. He laid back on the chair relaxed, if it wasn’t for his babbling one would think he wasn’t really affected.

“And, I mean, he’s such a dick.” He groans, sitting up straight, his roll of eyes halting upon noticing you pick at one half of the sandwich. 

Mayo wiped off, pickles on the bundle of used napkins, the turkey they touched on top of them, chunks of old avocado added to the tower. “What are you doing? Why are you picking at your food all of the sudden?” He leans against the table, elbows on the glass to be closer to you. In that instance, you stop your actions, looking at him through lashes before raising your head.

“Mark, I don't like these. I thought you knew by now…”

Fuck.

“No, yeah, I know. I’m sorry…” His hand leaves his chin, stretching it to hold yours. “Sorry, I forgot to check the order at the cafe, I didn’t want traffic to get me.” You smile at him, he smiles at you. You know he’s lying but it’s the thought that counts. “Plus, I think I came at the perfect time. Imagine I had come later and he had bothered you more?” His fingers squeeze yours, a little too hard if you say so. 

He’s received with a shrug. “He’s a dick, like you said.” You giggle softly, pulling your hand away to wipe them with another napkin. “He doesn’t react like that with Jaehyun, though. Does everything to avoid him.” Your head tilts, reassembling the sandwich to presentability. 

“Jaehyun?” You gave him that same look as when he questioned you seconds earlier, except it was softer and almost incriminating. You didn’t mean it in any form, more casually but after his findings, Mark can’t say he’s too happy with this information.

“Oh, well, when you can’t bring what I ask you to, I… sometimes ask Jae. So, they've met before…” Your gaze lowers, taking the other sandwich half onto your hands. “I think he’s scared of Jae, to be honest.” You giggle in attempts to break whatever tension you felt from your husband.

‘Jae, Jae, Jae. Christ, what a broken record.’ Mark thought, an urge to roll his eyes at the mention of his coworker. For fucks sake, he was the last thing he wanted to think about or even see. The only reason he saw him today was because of work but that should be it. He shouldn’t be hearing or thinking about his name here with you. Let alone hear it coming from you, his wife.

Stretching your hand towards him, you smile. “Here, eat the other half. These are huge on their own.” He took it, lunch soured by your incessant need to bring up Jaehyun and that dickhead from earlier.

Was this how he was paid? Making an effort to be a good husband just to have things be thrown in his face?

Lunch ended not too long after, he was on his own lunch break after all. It goes to say that his drop off and goodbye bid seemed lackluster in comparison to his greeting.

“Um, and don’t forget to file a floor change.” He gave you a tired smile and a quick kiss. It was the last thing he said to you while fixing any pictures of you two on your desk —three missing now— before heading towards the elevator. 

Like an act of a malice-meaning demon, when reaching the twelfth floor, the doors yanked themselves open like a grand introduction to a world renowned boxer or an all-show wrestler, showcasing that smug pug-faced asshole. A silent chuckle upon placing himself next to Mark who slumped against the railing and mirror walls.

Mark greeted him with a huff, head lolling similar to his eyes. The feeling got worse when he heard him blubbering, “At first I thought that the other guy was her boyfriend. You know, tall, dimples; suits her better.” He nods to himself, egging Mark’s ringing ears.

Here they went again. Bringing Jaehyun into every conversation. It’s made worse knowing that this idiot felt even Jaehyun could be your partner. That no matter how many images of Mark you display, to the world only Jae was good enough for you. Because he’s the only one who shows up.

“He seems like an actual man or that guy from the floor below. The orange haired one, a little weird but he surely goes out of his way to not let me have some fun for the day.” He laughs, snorting at his abhorrence. He turns to Mark, swallowing that disgusting lump of mucus in his throat, hand itching to come in contact with Mark’s smooth cheek. A pat of mockery. “She’s doing charity work with you.” 

Ironic, Mark would say. Ironic that he thinks you’re doing charity work with him when this idiot was never an afterthought. The older man insists on glaring at Mark, not letting their gazes drop, seeking any response from Mark even when the elevator rings, letting them know they’ve hit the garage lobby. He felt victorious feeling as if he had struck a nerve when Mark hopped off without a peep. Only for his triumph to be shut down shortly after.

“No wonder she has never mentioned you before. You’re repulsive to even think about and a sorry excuse for a man.”

A disgusted scowl replaced Mark’s poker face, glaring at the once mocking jackass whose face had sagged, shock turning into anger that he didn’t know how to express before the doors closed, making his target disappear from view.

Mark might have felt great in the moment but things could only go worse for you. He didn’t think about the consequences of his actions. He never did. He didn’t think about how it would affect you at work and the repercussions you faced for the weeks to come. Mark hadn’t processed he was at fault until your journal became frantic, pages with holes from how hard you wrote on them. Crumpled from the anger you couldn’t express besides abusing those pages.

He didn’t notice because he was indulging amongst the side notes and words highlighted with your tears about how scared you were of losing him. Your quick remarks on how you felt him pulling away or acting odd. Imploring to whichever higher being to not take him from you if that was the case. While you’re wallowing in the pits of your sadness hoping he won’t leave you, Mark enjoys the feeling of warmth seeing your desperation.

It meant you loved him, right? With how things were going on with Jaehyun, Mark took any crumb of your love that only felt real when you wrote about it. It’s hard to understand why he didn’t feel it was real when it came from your lips but it did when you confessed to the things you’ve put yourself through for him. For him, not Jaehyun, him, Mark. That felt like love.

Right, only on paper it felt like love. Not like now that you found yourself in Johnny’s kitchen with Jaehyun next to you like a guard dog, chewing your ear off with whatever he was saying despite your look of anguish. A worrying look to Mark and the likes of his— well, your friend it seems.

He had been enjoying the final match with Johnny, Yanyang, and the other coworkers they shared. You had been sitting by his side for most of it but it wasn’t until a few minutes ago that Jaehyun pulled you aside, asking for your help to make some drinks for the rest of the guests but now he was holding you hostage, begging you to drink some water.

Mark figured the drinks you had were getting to you and Jaehyun could tell. He won’t say he’s fond of that fact. That Jaehyun knows you well to the point he can tell when you need to be cut off.

Mark tried not making it obvious but when only his head isn’t turned to the TV and the host is making sure his guests are having a good time, well it’s hard to miss. Johnny notices it too, how Jaehyun was fixing you a slider, the words: “You haven’t eaten well, stop trying to fool me.” sternly spewing from his mouth.

No mayo, no pickles, no condiments at all. Just a plain cheeseburger slider. He knew how you liked it by heart and that’s something that makes Mark’s heart pound in hate.

The feeling becomes worse when your whispering turns frantic and almost audible for the rest to hear. Your words whining like you wanted to cry about how hellish work has become after Mark’s visit. Jaehyun shakes his head, hands pressing against the counter to lean against with an angry look on his face. That infamous look of hollow cheeks and sunken dead eyes. He wanted to say something but knew it was best to be a shoulder to lean on.

“And don’t tell me to talk to him about it because what’s the use?! You know how he is. I love him, I do but—” Your hands come in contact with your forehead, shaking it a bit, “Why can’t he just be a tad bit like you?…” You hiccuped, hands slowly sliding down to your mouth as you shut your eyes. It wasn’t a sign of regret but exhaustion, vile stuck in your throat. 

Jaehyun’s face softened, standing up straight to turn to you. To some form of comfort, his hand extends to rub your back, pulling you in for a side hug while you try to hold in whatever you feel. Jaehyun understands your words come from a place of hurt but confessions like that can be taken wrongly.

“Why can’t he be just a tad bit like you?...” Just like Mark had, who now felt his heart shatter. Disillusioned and hurt, stupid for thinking that you would want him no matter what. Worse off, it was Jaehyun who you confessed that to. Someone that everyone thought was a better fit for you.

I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.

Johnny took it upon himself to raise the volume of the TV, sparing Mark from any more anguish and saving your business to be heard by the other guests who by the graces of God were more interested in who would win the Stanley Cup this season.

His attempts didn’t work. Mark felt his world crashing down on him in this instance. He wanted to go out and scream, cry even, at the reviving memories flashing through his head. He’s seen this before— no, he’s experienced this.

Her cries to him about Hyuck to soon commence their affair in that same instance. If that was to happen in these walls, Mark thinks it’s his time to take a leap out of Johnny’s apartment balcony.

So when you leave me, I should die. I deserve it, don’t I? I can feel it getting near.

The vile stuck in your throat had been persistent on coming out, enough to push Jaehyun out of the way to run towards Johnny’s bathroom. It’s amazing how enthralled with the game his guests were to not notice anything happening behind them. To not feel Mark’s radiating poison as he watches his wife and ‘friend’ rush towards the bathroom, door slamming behind him. If it wasn’t for Jeno’s and Yangyang’s cheering scream, they would hear you hurl the slider into the toilet bowl, crying along with self-disgust.

Mark couldn’t hold it in anymore; abruptly he stands, ignoring Johnny’s sympathetic look. Not only for him but for you too, aware of Mark’s own flaws. He had thoughts of barging in and blowing Jaehyun’s ear off with his barking. Questioning you about what was going on, but he slowed down when he heard you hiccup and cry before and after vomiting. Jaehyun’s soothing hushes to you making his head spin but innocent enough.

Innocent until he opened his mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, it’s okay, pretty girl.” Jaehyun coos into Mark’s eardrum through a megaphone to imprint the notes of his voice onto his brain. 

Pretty girl. That’s his pet name for you, Mark’s pet name. Hurt floods him when you make no effort to correct him and present this fact.

Since when have you become someone else’s pretty girl?

He couldn’t take it any longer, angrily slamming the door open to watch Jaehyun soothing you with backrubs, holding your hair as you went.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mark spits out venom, mimicking that of a cobra. His eyes widened by hot fury as he approached you two. You wanted to speak, but the invasion from your gut stopped you, tears being the only thing you were able to respond with.

Jaehyun on the other hand gives him a look as if to tell him to calm down, that everything was fine, more worried about your well being than Mark’s insecurities. “Just helping her out, calm down.”

It aggravated him how collected Jaehyun’s words were, how little mind he paid him or how you made no effort to have Jaehyun stop giving you supportive squeezes (almost like you weren’t fighting for your life).

Mark huffs, hands taking purchase on his waist watching you two, the volume to the television and the guests drawn out by your heaving. He whispers, walking towards Jaehyun with that same menacing look– eye roll worthy, Jaehyun would say.

“I just fucking heard you, she’s my wife. What the fuck are you trying to do?” His finger rose to poke at Jaehyun’s shoulder. The taller one of the two feeling offended by Mark’s accusations and thoughts that he’d snake him like that. Jaehyun was not Mark.

“Sorry, that’s on me,” Jaehyun slaps Mark’s hand away, creating some distance. “I'm just helping her—” “Back the fuck off, she’s my wife…” 

Tired enough by this facade, Jaehyun scowls at Mark, pushing past him towards the door. “Then don’t be a shitty husband and she won’t have to seek other people to do what you can’t! I know how to respect marriages well enough, if anything I’m just helping her. Something you should do for once in your fucking life.”

Jaehyun bites back, watching Mark’s face falter as he slams the door behind him while you continue your sobbing. Overwhelmed by your bodily reaction but mostly for what just ensued in this room. With no form to defend yourself and Jaehyun. Hurt that Mark thought you two would betray him like he’s done to those before you.

You believe me like a God, I’ll betray you like a man.

In that instance Mark wanted to run to Jaehyun and gouge his eyes out, rip his stupid freshly bleached hair out, and beat him until he was nothing else than liquid matter. The words rang horribly inside his head to the point he was seeing red, his vision blurred and stars were floating in his eyes.

History was repeating itself and he was finally paying his wrong doings. He thought Jungwoo and Jaehyun were his friends but Hyuck thought the same of him and now he’s found himself in this predicament.

You're sweet, you're lovely. You go out of your way to make Mark happy so it was him all along. He's the problem and karma is finally making him pay the price.

Jaehyun understood it was his fault for being careless and using pet names but can one blame him when he was worried? Someone has to if not the one who bowed to do so. Even when he’s gone from eye sight, Jaehyun’s efforts are felt through Johnny who knocks on the door. Mark opens it slightly, Johnny standing before him with a glass of water and baking soda. Telling him about how Jaehyun sent him before leaving; for you to swish your mouth with this and drink some sparkling water to soothe your stomach ache.

Mark took it without a word, nodding at Johnny before shutting the door in his face as if this wasn’t his home. You were up on your feet by the time Mark turned around, lid closed as you flushed the toilet, reaching the sink to rinse your mouth before taking the glass from his hand. No words from either of you.

He looked at you through the mirror, arms crossed and factions softening upon noticing how tired and sick you looked. Gauntly, lips and eyes puffed out, and cheeks streaked. It was best to go home after that incident, only giving Johnny an apologetic goodbye while the rest of the guests paid no mind. On your end you were out of the apartment already, embarrassment laced on your face. 

And even through the car ride, all you could think about was Mark’s words and actions. Memories of Mark smugly telling his ex-best friend words Jaehyun spat at him flooded his vision, making it dangerous for him to be driving. To his side you grunted in discomfort, feeling as if vile was to rise from you again but he paid you no mind, made no effort to comfort you, more focused on his own feelings.

The look Hyuck had on his face eight years ago was the one Mark mirrors this night. One way or another one will pay for all their sins and you were his cross.

He didn’t talk to you for the remainder of the night. Didn’t care enough to question why you fell ill or how frightened you were about the possibility that this may be it, that this was his excuse to leave you behind.

The thoughts, his actions and words clouding your mind through your shower, skin care routine, and brushing your teeth. Spending minutes upon minutes doing the latter, disgusted by yourself. Brushing away all the vile you wanted to throw at him but instead ended down Johnny’s plumbing. For only Jaehyun to hear and understand.

Mark laid down on his side by the time you came out of the bathroom. You knew he was angry, his stiff body making no effort to move even when feeling the bed sink under your knees. He tried not to move when he felt your arms wrap around him seeking comfort in his warmth, but Mark wasn’t willing to give it to you. Without a care if he hurt you, which is what he did.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Your words made his eyes open. Startled, his body hardens under your touch, almost like your upcoming tears were freezing him on the spot. Damp on his sleeping shirt but hot on his back. He turns abruptly, pushing back a bit in the process. “What are you even ta—”

“Why don’t you love me anymore?!” You cut him off, voice raising to something he’s never heard before. “You’ve been so distant. More than usual and I can’t take it anymore!” Your palms cover your eyes, pushing back tears, forbidding you to look at that mocking grin on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief. 

You’re the one who grows distant when I beckon you near.

His voice on the other hand makes sure you know how he feels. “You think so? I think this is the closest I’ve been to you.” He chuckles, taking into account that look of confusion on your face as you put down your hands, resting them on your lap. “Why don’t you tell me anything, Y/n? You tell Jungwoo everything. You ask Jaehyun to do everything for you. I’m your husband, why don't you don’t you trust me enough?” 

Your confusion falls, disgust and anger replace it. “When I ask anything out of you, you never want to nor know how to do it.” Your voice was hurt, head shaking a tad with every syllable, hate laced into each one. He hated how much your reaction resembled Jaehyun’s.

He doesn’t want to admit you’re right, “You ask the most absurd of favors.” He scoffs, sitting up to be face to face with you. “Are you fucking serious? You’re a grown man who can’t cook or clean for himself. Up until I saw you at the bakery I thought you didn’t know where it was but then I saw you with another girl there.” You huff, arms flailing like when you’re with Jungwoo. 

There would be some satisfaction in him to know your true self is here talking with him but bringing old news made him groan. “I thought you said it was fine and we’d drop it there.” He takes into account the glare you’re throwing him, smoke coming out of your ears the longer neither of you speak.

If he had known a few drinks would do this to you, he would have not let you drink. The thing is, Mark pays no mind to you to not notice you’ve drank mocktails all night. He was more worried about Jaehyun than you.

“It’s not fine when you’re with some other girl to a place you keep avoiding when I ask you to go. Is it because of her? Is she the one taking my place now?” Your voice came out choppy, acheful, with the question, inhaling and exhaling to calm yourself down.

He on the other hand doesn’t take it kindly, annoyed that you’d think about him that way but that's what he’s been thinking about you, so what difference does it make? It would not be his first rodeo, so are you that insane to think of him like that?

I’ll betray you like a man.

Mark stands from the bed, crouching to eye-level with you as if you were a child he’s lecturing. “It’s not because of her, I don’t give a fuck about her! I barely know her, she is just an intern, and hasn't been there for a month now! We were sent by my boss!” His fingers poke his temple, in a form to tell you to get it through your head.

“But I’m right? You don’t love me anymore.”

Mark stands up straight in disbelief with your words despite none defending his case coming from his own mouth. He could see how your heart was crushing with every passing second.

The truth is hiding in your eyes and it’s hanging on your tongue. Just boiling in my blood. 

“All this time I thought you were calm… level headed— but you're the opposite... you don’t talk to me, you tell Jaehyun and Jungwoo everything. Why can’t you tell me everything? Why can't you need and trust me?” His voice softens, calming down.

“Because you don’t ever want to listen to me! I can’t need you when you do everything in your power for me not to!” Truth is, he did know how to clean and cook for himself, he's done it before but he's grown selfish and dependent.

Your outburst left him speechless, all the sighs he had to give stuck and dispersed through every crevice of his interior, poisoning his flow. He knows you’re right but he doesn’t want to believe it.

“I give and give and give but I never receive! I love you so much, it's become so painful that I rather let it slide than be far from you.” You crawl closer to the edge of the bed, hoping to minimize the distance between you two. The feeling of proximity only seems to feel farther, leaving room for a blizzard to rest between you two.

Mark knows he’s not man enough, your coworker said it. He knows he doesn’t help or take care of you, Jaehyun and Jungwoo told him so. None of these men had to tell him for him to know he doesn’t deserve you. It just so happens to be that Mark is selfish and wasn’t able to process it until now. He swore he believed you through writing but now, with you telling him directly— reality is forcing itself upon him.

“I think we should take a break.”

Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“What?” You ask confused and startled, looking up at him with fury in your eyes. “What? Don’t be fucking stupid. We’re married and we’ll stay this way! It's not as easy as you let out, asshole.” You sniffle, getting off the bed now, approaching him despite the gap he’s formed between you two. In all senses. 

“You’re just not who I fell in love with anymore.”

You wanted to rip his hair out, claw his skin and inject your pain and love into him so he could understand what you felt. You knew he was selfish but how fucking stupid could he be? 

“You’re so— you’re no fucking better than anyone else. You fell in love with the idea you made of me. Whatever the fuck that is! Any chance you get to see the real me you shut me down, Mark! Why can’t you just love me?! Not the stupid girl you thought I was.”

Your cries stopped, hands taking purchase on his arms, squeezing tighter with the adrenaline of wrath coursing through your veins. You were tired, tired of his foolishness and in times like these, you weren’t going to let him ruin what you’ve built.

“You fell in love with an idealized version of me too, if you’re still this in love.” Mark gulps, making no effort to move but his eyes felt heavy and tired. Hurt even, not sure if for himself or for you, empathy winning for once. Pity sounds better.

You think that I can’t see what kind of man that you are. If you’re man at all.

“I see you for who you fucking are. You’re selfish, you don’t want to do things for others unless you’re getting something out of it. You weaponize your incompetence for me to do things for you. You’re insecure especially with other men around me because you think of yourself exactly the opposite as them unless they’re more pathetic compared to you.” Your finger poked his chest, reminiscing on how he began berating Jaehyun.

“You’re especially jealous of your friends because they offer more for me than you do and that’s your fault.  You project your insecurities and mistakes onto them and me because you’re a bad friend, husband, and ultimately a bad person. Yet I’m still with you because I love you— even with everything you put me through and how you can’t help but compare me to— to her! Get over it and through your head, that was loneliness and you were the easiest victim. No one leaves their husband for someone they don't love.”

Like the pathetic man he was, he broke down. No amount of swallowing and gulping down the knot in his throat would go away. Tears streamed down his cheeks upon hearing you project onto the world what you had whispered to the toilet bowl earlier. Mark wasn’t aware that you knew about Hyuck and her but he wouldn’t doubt if you had come across letters from them both in the past just like he came across your journals. 

Having you voice what he had been thinking about since that experience caused his world to finally see true color, despite you being purposely vicious. He knew what that fling meant for her, for Hyuck, and for him. It just so happens that it meant more for him and here he was taking it out on the only person who has stuck by his side.

You loved him but you also hated him and that was more than clear to him now.

“Better reason for us to take a break. You deserve better… I’m sorry I’m the one you love. No one will ever love me like you again.” He sighs, sniffling, throwing his head back to not let any more tears shed. 

“I don’t care. If I go without you I’ll—I…” you clinging your nails to his shoulders trying to cut off your words. You knew what you wanted to say wasn’t healthy, not for you and not for him. Mark knows this, weeks of reading your entries allowing him to understand what goes within the walls of your brain. 

"Y/n please stop... you’re hurting me." It doesn't change the fact that feeling it was worse than reading it. “Then you’re a coward who would die within an hour in my shoes if I treated you the way you treat me.” You sternly and ferociously spit. He wails before doing the only thing he knew would calm you down. 

Leaning in, he kisses you, meekly. Pouring in the love he once had for you and the remaining he has now. But your body rejects it, feeling how phony it is. Pushing him off, running to the restroom to repeat the happenings of earlier. Mark sighs in relief to have you not corner him but in this instance concern floods him.

He follows you to the bathroom, standing by the door frame with crossed arms. Watching you hold your hair like Jaehyun had done earlier. Tears back in your eyes as you continue to lash out your rage against the white porcelain that's witnessed this on other occasions. Although this was one that should symbolize happiness, yet it’s clear you both won’t take it as such.

Mark took a look at his watch, 11:28PM. “Come on, get your shoes. I’ll take you to urgent care, you probably just need some electrolytes.” He approaches you, aiming to help you up but you resist, shaking your head defeatedly. 

“I’m not drunk.” You let out through gritted teeth. “No?” He questions smugly, annoyed at your rejection. “They were mocktails. These are normal symptoms.” He gives you a quizzical look. “Look in the drawer, Nancy Drew.” You huff, mocking him for his detective work these past weeks. It was only natural he’d find out eventually if he kept meddling in your journals.

With furrowed eyes, and look remaining, Mark pulls at the white drawer, the cold metal burning his warm hand. He digs and digs through piles of papers. All bills or old letters neither of you cared enough for. Reaching the bottom Mark feels something solid wrapped around a newer piece of paper. In comparison to the yellowing pages, this was white and bright, tied with a rubber band around the solid material.

He throws you a quick glance while taking it into his hands, unraveling the rubber to open it and come to view with three sticks, all with matching two-pink stripes. Any ounce of hope to restart is gone with the weight in his hands. Disappearing when he read the paper.

‘Laboratory report Patient: Y/n Lee. Sampled collected: May 15, 2008. Report date: May 20, 2008 Status: Pregnant Gestational age: 5-8 weeks.’

Mark reads it over and over, finally having the courage to look at you. His eyes wide and dim, reflecting on your cold angry ones. This was it. It was his life. What you would have taken as a beautiful moment, you can now agree this seals your faith. The look you gave him mirroring his misery. At least now you both were on board for once, basking in the fact this was a deadend no matter what.

You both know nothing will get fixed, all there is left is to pretend for the life that’s growing within you. Wreckless as ever, and the cycle of life continues. An innocent life to suffer the trails of a failed relationship for years to follow. That’s all Mark knows, that’s all you know. Generational curses don't end with either of you.

if you liked happy together: it’s too bad you’re married… to me, you’ll enjoy: stupid girl !

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taglist: @haknyeonsju @seungjiseyo @theskzvibe @wonyofanclub @lovingvoidgoatee

#neohub #nct-writers #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #nctcreations18 #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee x you #mark lee x reader #nct 127 #nct dream #nct #nct fic

[flor4de4amor]

hockey!abby with the reader being her biggest fan prompt 🫣🫣

click for palestine | boycott tlou!!! | read b4 engaging w me

ok i changed the prompt up a little bit again, but i promisseeeee it's the last time!!!! (it's probably not but shh!!)

you’re almost at every single one of abby’s games. it’s always easy for her to spot you. you’re sectioned off in the front, in one of her old hoodies. at any free moment she has on the ice, abby skates by your section, blowing a kiss, that you eagerly pretend to catch. 

but the key word is almost. this is one of the few games you’ve missed since you and abby have been going steady. even when she used to play college hockey, and you had a silly little crush on her, you’d do your best to show up at the games. hiding somewhere in the back row of watchers, but still keeping an eye out for your favorite player. 

your absence was definitely noted this game. abby had been missing shots, which was quite unusual for her. her teammates teasing her, asking if she needed her good luck charm. to which her answer is yes. a resounding, bolded, large, all caps, yes. 

who was she gonna blow kisses to? who was gonna come rub her back in the locker room after the game? williams better not try it. abby’ll bite her head off, and you’ll never hear the last of it. abby can’t remember the last time she’s played without you watching. you’re her favorite trophy to show off. all pretty, with a wide smile, and gorgeous for her to brandish for anyone who’ll listen. 

the game is rough, for a lack of better words. the team loses,by a lot. too much for abby’s liking. she drives home, her fist pounding her steering wheel. occasionally at a red light while releasing anger onto the battered wheel, she hits the horn. stirring her from the storm of anger, and causing a cluster of horns following hers. the cars are speaking for their agitated drivers. abby sighs as she pulls into your shared driveway. the last thing she wants to hear you say is that you watched the game.

she sees your blurred frame on the couch through the window film of the front door. she sees you jolt up as her keys jingle through the hole, unlocking the door. you sit up drowsily, your nose agitated as you’ve been blowing it through the better half of the week. flu season had captured you as it’s latest victim.

“i saw the game baby,” you say with a raspy throat and nasally voice. abby sighs, and allows her head to hang to the floor. she should’ve known better paying for the extra hulu subscription. of course you’d use it. she’s mentally kicking herself. “you played really good baby,” you tell her sitting half up wrapped up in your favorite blanket.

she snorts, “sure,” she replies sarcastically.

“i’d kiss you better but i’m so sick right now, lovie.” you blow her a ton of kisses with your hands, though your dominant limb clutches an array of crumpled tissues.

she catches them, pulling them to her heart. “you miss one game and you’re stealing all my moves?” she raises her eyebrow at you.

you toss your hand at her dismissively. “i’m allowed,” you say with a playful closed lip smile. 

“one kiss won’t hurt me,” abby rolls her eyes. pressing a soft one on your forehead, and another to the corner of your mouth. “i’ve built up my immune system,” she tells you offhandedly. “ate dirt when i was a kid,” she laughs to herself. bullshit, but, whatever. “so you saw the game?” she fiddles with her thumbs, and avoids eye contact for a minute. when talking about her sport, this was when you’d catch abby at some of her most vulnerable.

“uhuh,” you tell her after catching a sneeze into the corner of your forearm. “‘scuse me,” you mumble.

“you’re ‘scused pretty,” abby replies while waiting for a further in depth answer than ‘uhuh.’

“you did such a good job baby,” you smile at her tiredly. “you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much. you really can’t win them all.”

“that’s insulting,” she smiles at you. “i definitely can. i just need my good luck charm.”

“i don’t do not a thing. it’s all you on the ice abs. don’t give me too much credit,” you say before having a slew of coughs.

“hey,” abby says putting a stern mask in her voice, “don’t pick on my favorite groupie now,” she burst out into laughter.

“i won’t make a habit of it, if you can make me some hot tea. my throat’s killing me.” abby nods her head, kissing your forehead once more and setting the kettle up. who was she to even deny her biggest fan, same one who stayed up late watching her girl’s game on her deathbed? abby’s mean, but not a monster. 

#written by lina ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x you #abby x reader #x reader #ellie williams x reader #joel miller x reader #abby anderson x black!reader #black!writer #black!fem!reader #black!reader #wlw blog #the last of us fluff #the last of us #latina!reader #hockey!abby anderson x reader #hockey!au #hockey!abby x reader #hockey!abby anderson #hockey!abby #fluff #tlou fanfiction #fanfic #ellie the last of us

[sharkylass]

YOU I LIKE YOU @faislittlewhiteraven These questions are a little hard to answer with doodles but I tried my best- Nil generally has a pretty heroic and brave personality overall. She's loud and brash and ready to jump into things super quickly.

She's not the best with words, but she is very reliable overall

More art and writing under cut, it's just a long post man-

In terms of helping about during travels, she likes doing a lot of heavy labor jobs- She's the type to fix broken fences, gather supplies for folks, carry stuff around, tend to crops or lend a help wrangling animals. Nil wouldn't be great at things like sorting and organizing tho- Just tell her what you need and where to put it and she will! I mentioned she's not really the best with words (she is very emotionally intelligent just sometimes struggles to communicate stuff), HOWEVER, With folks that have been frozen she connects with a lot. How it's scary that you've been frozen for so long when your entire belief is to change and evolve, how (if Mal Du Pays is anything to go by) they had to fight their own demons in there, how everything can change so easily without you even noticing- It's terrifying to think about.

Actually- a while ago I made battle sprites with Nil- I wasn't happy with them so I never shared them BUT

Specifically I wanted to contrast her frozen sprite with everyone else's- Cause if she were to SOMEHOW be frozen again, knowing what it feels like, what could happen while she's out- It would TERRIFY her instantly. Not just a mild shock or surprise, it would stick with her for a while-

Speaking of battles tho-

Nil is super brash and lively as a whole. She puts up a brave face for a LOT of things, including fighting. She jumps in without really thinking, and as long as it goes their way, she'd have a smile on her face doing it.

However, while brave, it does come from both a place of coping and naivety. She's not used to genuine fighting, in fight or flight situations she actually tends to flee. (Which is why honestly, if she had to fight the King I don't think she could do it-)

If a battle were to start going south, she'd actually start to panic more then anyone else- Physical wounds and seeing the people she loves hurt would lower her accuracy and general capabilities, despite the brave face she puts on.

And due to her lack of experience, especially in bigger groups- Nil tends to... miscalculate sometimes

She had to learn the hard way not to just jump at any opportunity she sees. The party can see where Bonnie got it from (also after the battle Nille proceeded to heal Sif, profusely apologizing, I forgot to doodle that whoops-) (Also gameplay wise, imagine every second turn she does an action of her own without your command)

Also just the Sif image by itself cause I liked it :]

As for chores and stuff-

She does foraging and stuff! Honestly I don't think the other 5 would have done so before they traveled together.

Mira would have most DEFINITELY learned about it but didn't feel confident in her abilities. Bonnie will grab stuff they think is edible from what they remember Nille telling them and they'd grab a stick to cook. Odile would not be interested and would prefer buying the ingredients rather then wild scavenging. Isa doesn't read to me as a biology student, I see him more of a math history type of guy, so either he doesn't know, or him and Mira did it occasionally together, but only as a last resort type of deal (maybe when it was just the two of them and they had to manage alone) And Sif in my mind is an accident prone goober who'd forget which ones are edible and which ones aren't so I wouldn't trust him personally.

SO! LONG STORY SHORT! I don't think any of them are really experienced with foraging. And as a means to make money management easier- I imagine Nil (nature being a passion of sorts to her) took up the mantle! Probably taught the rest how to do it too!

That's it when it comes to stuff specific to her- Other then that she's kind of ready to help out with anything! She can help set up tends, do odd jobs for money, help cook if for WHATEVER reason Bonnie wanted her to or wanted to do something else in that time, bring water, wood, fish, help with weapons- She's not the best at those things, but if anyone needs a hand to be lent- she is there!

I'll be entirely honest, I don't think I understand your last question- But I do wanna say that Nil and Isa become like. Best buds real quick. He is the first one she instantly trusts, since she rivals with Mira, is prickly with Odile and Sif is someone she wants to help rather then ask for help. So if she needs someone to turn to, or needs a partner in crime- Nil would turn to Isa And now I just imagined Mira and Nil bonding over how to grow plants. Cause Mira tried REALLY REALLY HARD and couldn't do it, so Nille would actually love to give some tips- Imagine Mira genuinely walking up to her with a little alive plant with a proud glint in her eyes and have Nil fully support her- Honestly I could keep going for forever, I have so many thoughts on her and her dynamic with everyone- Bro I even have nicknames, you don't even know-

BUT I'M GONNA CUT IT HERE, HAVE FUN, I'VE BROUGHT SOME FOOD FOR NOW-

#isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #only cause of mal du pays tho honestly #in stars and time #isat nille #isat sif #isat mira #isat petronille #in stars and time nille #in stars and time petronille #lord give me strenght (its 5am I am not awake-)

[stylesispunk]

"I love you, it's ruining my life" | part iii.

Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter | part iv

Summary: Joel tried to win you back or where Joel goes all his way to find you but things are not as easy as he thought or that's what he thinks. w.c: 5,7k warnings: angst, FLUFF. Perhaps grammar mistakes cuz I didn't check the chapter, sorry. Not my best chapter, but some hearts are going to be happy a/n: As I promised, part 3 is here! Thank you so much for all the love you gave it to the first part, I'm really happy you loved it despite the messy writing. This one is not my best, but some hearts will be mended. This was a messy week for me and I was not completely focused on this, but I wanted to give it to you. AGAIN, this part will not be the end, so a fourth and last part is already in the works to end this mini-story since I split this chapter in two :) If you have a suggestion, question, or want to talk to me, you can come to my dms or asks! Happy reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Five years ago,

On your 25th birthday,.

Years were passing by; it was your 25th birthday, and your friends had decided to throw a grand party for you in a dowtown venue. Of course, Joel had told you he couldn’t make it; he couldn’t leave Sarah behind, and being a single father of a three-year-old at twenty-five held him back from dropping everything and just coming to your party.

You stood by the entrance, looking around at the lively scene, when you decided to give Joel a call. He had told you earlier that he couldn’t make it; being a single father of a three-year-old at twenty-five made it impossible for him to drop everything and come to your party.

“Are you sure you can’t make it?” you asked through the phone, your voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. The noise from the party buzzed in the background.

“Oh, sweetie, you know I would love to be there with you, but I’m having a party with my baby,” Joel replied. You could almost see his smile through the phone, picturing him sitting on the couch, trying to make Sarah fall asleep in his arms.

Though you understood, a part of you felt incomplete without him there, and you knew exactly why.

“Okay, then,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light and cheerful despite the sinking feeling in your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, promise,” he said, his voice warm and sincere.

“Alright, Joel. Give Sarah a kiss for me,” you said before hanging up.

The party continued in full swing, but you found yourself increasingly detached from the celebration around you. The laughter and conversations felt distant, overshadowed by the thought of spending your birthday without Joel. Finally, unable to shake the feeling, you made your excuses and slipped away from the party, leaving the lively party behind.

Joel was exhausted. He had put Sarah to sleep and just sat on the couch to watch a movie, wanting to keep himself awake and make sure you would arrive home safe and sound. As the soft glow of the TV flickered in the dimly lit room, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for not being able to celebrate your birthday with you.

Lost in his thoughts, Joel was startled by a soft knock at the door. Frowning, he glanced at the clock—it was late, and he wasn’t expecting anyone. He stood up, making his way to the door and opening it to find you standing there, a small, tired smile on your face.

He said your name, shocked.

“What are you doing here?” Joel asked, his eyes wide with surprise and concern. “Shouldn’t you be at your party?”

You shrugged, stepping inside and giving him a warm hug. “I was at the party,” you said, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “But I realized that there’s no place I’d rather be on my birthday than here with you,” you paused, “and Sarah, of course.”

Joel’s expression softened, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over him. “Sarah is sleeping, and you didn’t have to do that,” he said tenderly. “It’s your birthday. You should be out celebrating.”

You shook your head, your eyes meeting his with unwavering sincerity. “This is where I want to be,” you replied firmly. "Besides, I brought food,” you said, lifting bags in front of Joel's face.

Joel's smile was slow but genuine, a warmth spreading across his features as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “Happy birthday,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

As you both made your way to the kitchen, you unpacked the food you had brought. It was a simple spread—some of your favorite dishes from the party. You set the table, and the cozy atmosphere of Joel's home makes you feel more at ease.

Joel poured you both a drink, and you sat down to eat, sharing stories and laughter. The conversation flowed naturally, as it always did between the two of you. It was moments like these that reminded you why Joel was such an important part of your life.

After finishing the meal, you both moved to the living room. Joel put on a movie, and you settled onto the couch, comfortable in each other's presence. The noise of the TV filled the room, but it was the quiet, unspoken bond between you that brought the most comfort.

As the movie played, Sarah stirred from her sleep and toddled into the living room, rubbing her eyes. "Bubu?" she said, her voice sleepy and endearing.

You smiled, reaching out to her. "Hey there, birthday girl," you said softly, lifting her onto your lap. Sarah snuggled against you, her tiny arms wrapped around your neck.

Joel watched the two of you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "It looks like Sarah wanted to join the party," he said, his voice filled with warmth.

You laughed; the sound was light and happy. "The best party I could ask for," you replied, hugging Sarah close.

As the night went on, the three of you sat together, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company. The flickering light of the TV cast a warm glow over the room, and in that moment, everything felt perfect.

Joel glanced over at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper that he couldn't quite put into words. "You really made my night by coming here," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

"I couldn't imagine spending my birthday any other way," you replied, your heart full. "Thank you for being here for me, always."

Joel reached over and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're always here for each other," he said, his voice a promise. "No matter what."

Joel didn’t know why his heart felt like it was exploding every time you were around.

A year had passed since you left, and Joel found himself constantly haunted by memories of you. The days had blurred together into a monotonous routine, and the nights were filled with restless thoughts of what might have been. Every corner of his house reminded him of you, from the empty chair at the dining table to the quiet, lonely evenings after Sarah had gone to bed.

Joel spent the year focusing on Sarah, trying to be the best father he could be while grappling with the void your absence had left. He poured his heart into his work, his family, and his responsibilities, but nothing could fill the emptiness that lingered in his heart.

As the months went by, Joel found himself yearning to see you again, to hear your voice, and to feel your presence. He knew you needed time and space to heal, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to find you to see if there was any chance of rebuilding what they had lost.

And so, with trembling hands and a heart full of fear, Joel found himself standing in New York, pacing back and forth in front of your building. The bustling city seemed to move around him in a blur, the noise and energy contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside him. He had come all this way, but now, standing so close to you, he was paralyzed by doubt.

Had you thought about him the same way he had been thinking about you? He thought for himself while pacing back and forth over the cobblestones in front of the building you lived in.

Joel couldn’t make up his mind until the exact moment he took all this courage and flew all the way here to find you. It felt surreal to be in this city, so far from the familiar life he had known, all for the chance to see you again. The realization of how much he had missed you and how deeply he still cared had driven him to this point. Now, as he stood in front of your building, the weight of his decision pressed heavily on his shoulders.

His thoughts raced with questions and doubts. What if you had moved on? What if you were happy without him? What if seeing him only brought back painful memories you had worked so hard to move past? These fears churned in his mind, paralyzing him with indecision.

He looked up at the windows, imagining you inside, living your life. The city around him buzzed with activity, but Joel felt isolated, trapped in his own whirlwind of emotions. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his hands still shook as he clenched and unclenched them.

Joel stood there, the city’s noises fading into the background as he lost himself in his thoughts. His mind drifted back to the moment he realized he was in love with you, a moment that had come so unexpectedly yet felt so right. It was a quiet evening, long before the chaos of the last year, when he saw you playing with Sarah in the backyard of his house. The way you laughed and the tenderness in your eyes as you helped Sarah with her tiny steps had struck him deeply.

It had always been you, he realized. Through all the ups and downs, the moments of joy and sorrow, you have been the constant in his life. Tess had been important, but she felt like a chapter in his life.

The night before he was supposed to get married, when you confessed your feelings, was etched in his memory. Your vulnerability and the raw honesty in your eyes had shaken him to his core. How he had kissed you then, driven by an overwhelming need to bridge the gap between what he had always felt and what he had denied for so long.

Now, standing in front of your building, the weight of that realization pressed heavily on his chest. He had almost married another woman, but it had always been you. His heart ached with the knowledge of the pain he had caused—the confusion and hurt that had driven you away.

Taking another deep breath, Joel forced himself to focus. He had come here to make amends, to lay bare his soul, and to hope that you could find it in your heart to forgive him. His hands still trembled, but the resolve in his heart was unwavering. He needed to see you to tell you that he loved you, that he had always loved you, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to rebuild what you both had lost.

Just as Joel mustered the last of his courage to cross the street and approach your building, he heard the sound of a car pulling up. He glanced over and saw you stepping out, laughing with a man beside you. His heart sank at the sight, a mixture of jealousy and heartbreak washing over him. The scene before him seemed to confirm his worst fears—that you had moved on and found happiness without him.

You looked radiant, your laughter lighting up the whole town, and he smiled at the sight of you.

He stood still, not knowing what to do, just asking himself, How could you be able to bear the burning feelings in your heart at the sight of him with another woman and still be so good to him? It hurt like he was feeling it now.

Joel stood there, his heart aching as he watched you, his mind racing with thoughts of the past and the overwhelming emotions he was experiencing in the present. He felt an immense sense of guilt and regret for the pain he had caused you, and now, seeing you with someone else, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and sadness.

His thoughts were interrupted when you looked up and locked eyes with him. The shock on your face mirrored the turmoil inside him. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the bustling city around you both fading into the background.

Your smile faltered, replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. You stopped in your tracks, the man beside you following your gaze to where Joel stood. Joel felt his breath catch in his throat, unsure of what to do or say. The reality of the situation hit him hard—he had come all this way, and now he was standing before you, unsure if he even had the right to ask you for a chance.

He was about to go when he heard your voice.

"Joel," you said, crossing the street, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

Joel took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I came here to see you," he said, his voice gaining strength. I came here to tell you that I love you. I know I hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for, but I couldn't let another day go by without telling you how I feel. He thought.

"Joel," you began, your voice filled with a mix of emotions. "It's been a year.”

“I know. It’s just,” he paused for a second, “forget it.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy with unresolved emotions. Joel felt the weight of them pressing down on him, his heart sinking with each passing moment. He knew he had no right to expect forgiveness or to ask for another chance. But he couldn't bear the thought of walking away without at least trying to make things right.

As he turned to go, he felt a gentle hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He looked back to see you standing there, your eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and uncertainty.

"Joel," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't go."

He hesitated, torn between the desire to flee from the pain of rejection and the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for redemption.

"There's a café around the corner," you continued, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "Let's go there and talk."

He graced his lips with a tiny smile and nodded.

“Just wait here a second.”

To say you were fine would be a lie. Of course, you have been better since you were in pieces. You had thought about Joel every single night since the day you left. He was coming home to a woman who wasn't you, sleeping and waking up next to her, having a family. Perhaps on the possibility of Tess being pregnant, you were sitting across from him, the man who had once been your everything.

Joel looked older and more worn, but there was a softness in his eyes that you recognized. You could tell he was nervous, and it mirrored your own anxiety. The silence between you was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"I didn't know if I'd ever see you again," you finally said, your voice barely audible over the hum of the café.

Joel nodded, his fingers wrapped tightly around his coffee cup. "I didn't know if you'd want to see me," he replied, his voice rough with emotion.

You looked down at your own cup, the steam rising in gentle tendrils, and took a deep breath. "How did you know my address?”

“Tommy.”

“That fucker,” you joked. 

Joel chuckled, "I know," he said, his voice breaking slightly. “But don’t blame him; I asked him.”

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was almost overwhelming, and you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you. "Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes. Why, after a whole year, Joel?” You questioned him, not calling him by tender names anymore. The way you called out his name felt strange and foreign.

Joel's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of deep introspection. He took a moment before responding, his gaze dropping to his coffee cup. "Because you needed time, and I did, too,” he said softly.

You nodded, not uttering words. There was anything for you to say, or so you thought. “I-How… How is Sarah?”

Joel's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of deep introspection. He took a moment before responding, his gaze dropping to his coffee cup. "Because you needed time, and I did, too," he said softly.

You nodded, not uttering words. There was nothing for you to say, or so you thought. “I—How… How is Sarah?”

“She misses you,” Joel replied, his voice thick with emotion. "She talks about you all the time and wonders when you’ll come back. I didn’t realize how much you meant to her until you were gone."

A lump formed in your throat as you thought of Sarah, her innocent face, and the bond you had shared. "I miss her too," you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. "She’s a big part of why I stayed away. I didn’t want to confuse her or make things harder for her."

“How could you? You were everything to her.”

“I bet Tess loves her that much too.”

Joel chuckled again. It felt almost insulting to you. “I didn’t marry Tess,” he confessed.

Your eyes widened in surprise at Joel's confession. “What?” you asked, barely able to believe what you had just heard.

Joel looked down, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. “I didn’t marry Tess,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time, laden with the weight of his decision.

“But why?” you asked, your voice a mix of shock and curiosity. “I thought...”

Joel sighed, lifting his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve. “I couldn’t go through with it. It wasn’t fair to her, to Sarah, or to myself. My heart was never fully in it because my heart has always been with you.”

You felt a rush of conflicting emotions—relief, confusion, and a lingering ache from the past year’s pain. “Joel, I...”

Your words got cut. You felt shame wash over you once again. Guilt, as if you committed treason and ruined another person's life. You thought about Tess.

Your words got cut short, replaced by a wave of overwhelming emotions. Shame washed over you, followed by a torrent of guilt. You thought about Tess and the life she might have imagined with Joel, a life you had inadvertently disrupted. The weight of it all felt suffocating.

Unable to sit still, you stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a screech that drew a few curious glances from the other patrons. Joel looked up at you, alarmed by your sudden movement.

“Wait, where are you going?” He asked, his voice laced with concern and a hint of desperation.

You took a step back, shaking your head as if trying to clear the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. “I-I can’t do this, Joel,” you stammered, your voice trembling. “It’s too much. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

Joel stood up as well, reaching out to you. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly, trying to reassure you. “I made my own choices. I couldn’t marry Tess because it wouldn’t have been fair to anyone. Especially not to you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, the pain and confusion evident in your expression. “How can I live with myself knowing I caused her so much hurt?”

Joel took a step closer, his hands gently reaching out but stopping just short of touching you, respecting your space. His eyes were filled with a mix of determination and tenderness as he spoke, his voice steady but earnest. “Tess and I have talked,” he said. “She deserves someone who can love her fully, and I realized that person wasn’t me. It was a hard decision, but it was the right one for both of us. She’s moved on, and she’s happy.”

You searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity and deep affection that had always been there. But the weight of guilt and the fear of causing more pain were too overwhelming. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were to blame for the hurt Tess had gone through. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

You shook your head, the tears spilling over as you took another step back. “I can’t, Joel. I just can’t,” you said, your voice breaking. Turning away, you started to walk towards the exit, your heart pounding in your chest.

Joel’s voice rang out, louder and more desperate, stopping you in your tracks. “Will you run away from me again?! It seems like a habit of yours!

His words stung, and you spun around, your eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt. “A habit? You think running away is a habit?” You shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to leave? How much did it tear me apart?”

Joel took a step closer, his face etched with frustration and pain. “I know it was hard. It was hard for me, too. But you can’t keep running every time things get tough. We need to face this together.”

“Us? There’s no us, Joel!” You echoed, incredulous. “You were about to marry someone else, Joel! How was I supposed to face that?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret. “I wish you had never told me about your feelings; I wouldn't have lost you.”

“'You would, though.” You whispered.

“You're the coward here.” He cried out.

“Did you want me to spend a whole fucking year of my life waiting for you? You were supposed to be married; you never saw me the way I saw you, and I wasn’t going to stay there to watch.” You paused. “I waited for you to call me to show me I was important, but... Listen, I don't blame you. How could I? You didn't know.” You tried to say, hoping to change the tone this conversation was taking, but for Joel, everything you said didn’t matter anymore.

“The man you were with...”

“We’re dating,” you replied, not meeting his gaze.

Joel’s expression hardened at your admission; the pain was evident in his eyes. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the anger and frustration bubbled just beneath the surface. “You’re dating someone else,” he repeated, his voice strained. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know? You didn’t think I had the right to fight for you?”

“What was there to fight for, Joel?” You shot back, your own anger rising. “You were getting married to someone else. How could I believe there was anything left for us?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair again, his movements agitated. “Fuck this,” he said, his voice breaking. He turned and started to walk past you, his shoulders tense with unresolved emotion.

You watched him go, a part of you wanting to reach out and stop him, but the pain and confusion held you back. “Joel, wait,” you called after him, but he didn’t slow down.

The weight of the past year’s emotions, the regrets, and the missed opportunities pressed down on you as you watched him walk away. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do something to make it all better, but the words wouldn’t come.

Joel pushed open the door to the café and stepped outside, the sound of the city flooding in. He paused for a moment, his back to you, as if he were wrestling with the decision to leave or stay. The seconds stretched into an eternity, the distance between you feeling insurmountable.

“Joel, please,” you said, your voice breaking. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

He turned around slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, hurt, and something deeper—hope. “I came here to see if you were good,” he said simply, his voice raw with emotion. “I don't want to accept that losing you is our fate, but if you’re happy the way you are now, I have nothing else to do here.

"Joel,” you called out his name again, but he disappeared into the crowd. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him walk away, a sense of loss washing over you. You wanted to run after him, to tell him that you weren't happy and that you still loved him, but the words caught in your throat.

Joel had come all this way to find you, to see if there was still a chance for the two of you, but now he was walking away, and you didn't know if you would ever see him again.

Feeling lost and adrift, you sank into a nearby chair, the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. The café buzzed with activity around you, but you felt completely alone, the absence of Joel's presence like a gaping hole in your heart.

As you sat there, grappling with the pain and regret, you realized that you had to make a choice. You couldn't continue living in the past, holding onto what might have been. If you wanted a chance at happiness, you had to let go of your fears and take a leap of faith.

You wanted him to forgive you for not waiting for him, but a year after radio silence was the answer you got. Not fighting, not callbacks asking you to come back. The love you had for him felt childish, with promises made but never to keep, and maybe you had just closed the door to him.

Back in your apartment, the weight of the recent events bore down on you like a heavy burden. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat on the edge of your bed, clutching your cell phone tightly in your hand. The breakup with the guy you had been dating had been inevitable, with your feelings for Joel still lingering beneath the surface, stronger than ever.

With trembling fingers, you scrolled through your contacts until you found Joel's name. Taking a shaky breath, you pressed the call button and waited, your heart pounding in your chest.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel's voice came through the line, filled with warmth and concern. "Baby?" he said, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again at the sound of his voice, the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Why did you have to come back to do this?" you whispered, your voice raw with pain and longing.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, as if Joel was trying to find the right words to say.

“I could prove to myself that my life could continue without you, but you had to come back and fuck up everything, Joel?

The words spilled out of you—a mix of anger, frustration, and hurt. You wanted to push him away, to shield yourself from the pain he had brought back into your life, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him, pulsing beneath the surface like a live wire.

Joel's response was barely a whisper, his voice heavy with remorse. "I'm sorry," he said, the words hanging in the air between you like a weight. "I never meant to hurt you."

The tears flowed freely down your cheeks now, your heart torn between conflicting emotions. "But you did," you choked out, the pain of the past year crashing over you in waves. "You hurt me so much."

There was another pause, and then Joel spoke again, his voice thick with emotion. "Tell me how to fix it," he said softly. "And I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right."

His words hung in the air—a promise and a plea all at once. You knew that forgiving him wouldn't be easy and that rebuilding what you had lost would take time and effort, but deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for the two of you.

"I just wanted for you to love me the way I love you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. The admission hung heavy in the air, the raw vulnerability of your words laying bare the depth of your feelings.

Joel's response was immediate; his voice was filled with regret and longing. "I do love you," he said, his words laced with sincerity. "I was just too blind to see it before, too scared to admit it to myself."

"I don't want to hear it on the phone, Joel," you said softly, your heart pounding in your chest. The thought of facing him again, of seeing the pain and longing in his eyes, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, as if Joel were considering his response. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice filled with determination. "Then open your door," he said simply.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the weight of the decision pressing down on you like a heavy burden. You walked over to the door and turned the handle, pulling it open slowly. There, standing on the other side, was Joel, his gaze filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

For a moment, neither of you spoke; the weight of everything left unsaid was hanging heavy in the air. Then, finally, Joel stepped forward, closing the distance between you.

You held each other's gaze for a long moment, the silence between you speaking volumes. Then, without a word, Joel reached out. Without a word, Joel reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His gaze locked with yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

And then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss. In that moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.

The kiss was soft at first and tentative, as if both of you were afraid to fully give in to the overwhelming emotions swirling between you. But then, as the warmth of his lips met yours, something shifted, and the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and more passionate.

It was as if all the longing and desire that had been building between you for so long finally found release in that single moment of connection. You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around him as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

As your lips parted, Joel looked into your eyes with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. His voice was filled with sincerity as he spoke, and his words were a heartfelt confession of his love for you.

"I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper but resonating with a depth of feeling that echoed through the room. "I have always loved you, from the moment you opened the door. You've been in my thoughts every day, in every moment. I can’t just pretend I want a life without you in it.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, the weight of his confession washing over you like a wave of emotion. All the doubts and uncertainties melted away in the warmth of his love, leaving only the undeniable truth of your connection.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it," Joel continued, his voice filled with regret. "I was scared of losing you and of facing my own feelings. But now, I know that I can't live without you. You're the missing piece of my heart, the one I've been searching for all along."

You wrapped your arms tightly around Joel, pulling him close and burying your face in the crook of his neck. His warmth enveloped you, comforting and familiar, as if you were finally coming home after a long journey.

Tears of relief and joy streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the scent of his cologne. In his arms, you felt safe, loved, and understood in a way you had never experienced before.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like I did," he sobbed, not letting you go from his hold. "I felt I stabbed myself in the heart that day. God, when I read that letter...

"Do you remember the night we met? When you went to-“ You began.

"Your house with Sarah, yes. Of course I do," he continued for you.

"I lied to you that night."

His eyebrows furrowed at the words. 

"I said I had you come back home, but in fact I was going on a date with my boyfriend.”

"Did you have a

"Yes, he was a sweetheart, and I stood him up for my neighbor that night.”

"Why did you love me back then?"

You didn't reply; no words were enough for that.

"This whole time without you, God has been... miserable," he said.  "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like I did."

You reached up, gently brushing away the tears that streaked his cheeks. "I forgive you, Joel," you whispered, your voice filled with love and understanding. "I forgive you because I know that your heart was always in the right place, even if your actions didn't always reflect that."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes searching for yours for reassurance. "I love you," he said softly, his voice trembling with sincerity. "I've loved you from the moment I met you, and I'll love you for the rest of my days."

Tears welled up in your own eyes as you felt the weight of his words sink in. "I love you too, Joel," you replied, your voice filled with conviction. "More than words can express."

Joel leaned in and gently pressed his lips against yours. It was a tender and passionate kiss, filled with years of longing and unspoken love.

Wrapped up in each other's arms, you felt a sense of completeness that you hadn't experienced in a long time. Every touch and every caress was a silent affirmation of the love that had endured despite the trials and tribulations you had faced.

As you deepened the kiss, your hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and passion that echoed through the room. It was a moment of pure bliss, a reminder that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

taglist 💌: @immywonderdefender @sarahhxx03 @powellssaturn @ifall4dilfs @harriedandharassed @skysmiller @missladym1981 @brittmb115 @guelyury @heartpascalispunk @ashleyfilm @loveisacowboyyy @southernbe @pedroloml

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller series #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal

[cupidhoons]

WIP 📓 — RANK ONE (IN MY HEART)

SYNOPSIS ! You had everything everyone wished they had — the smarts, parents who looked out for you, amazing & supportive friends, the wealth — you couldn't wish for anything more. But, there was only one thing your heart desired — to get number one rank. No one had ever beaten you in getting first rank — that was until Yang Jungwon came in the picture...

THE LOVERS RIVALS academic rival! jungwon x academic rival! fem reader

GENRE 🎬 e2l highschool! au rich! au (they go to a private school lmao) geek vs geek to geek with geek fluff romance comedy(?)

CURRENT WORD COUNT (FOR FULL FIC) 1.1k & counting...

WARNINGS (IN THIS PREVIEW) none! more will be stated in the official post of this fic

YOU WERE TOP STUDENT AT YOUR SCHOOL... everyone called you the ace. You had everything everyone wanted — amazing friends, wealth, parents who looked out for you, being top of the class — you couldn't wish for anything more. But, you didn't care about those things. Not as much, at least. The only thing you had in sight was your grades — that 4.0 GPA, to push yourself to your limit, reach the stars and make an impact on the world before you passed.

You needed your grades to make a good impression on yourself. You needed to attend the top school. You studied countless hours, reviewing each and every topic that could possibly be on your test. It was all or nothing for you.

No one was able to achieve the grades you had. You were the top student — always landing number one on the school bulletin — you were everyone's role model. Everyone wanted to be you. No one dared to disrespect your name. It wasn’t possible for anyone to be on your level — or to even be higher than your level.

That was until a new student was admitted into the academy. His name? Yang Jungwon. 

“Y/n! Have you seen the bulletin? Your name has dropped down to second rank!” Danielle says. You look at her in disbelief. 

“Pfft. First place taken by someone else other than me? Yeah, right.” You scoff. “Dani, no one has ever taken my spot for the last 3 years — no way some rando is going to ruin my repu-” Just then Hanni enters the room, interrupting you mid way of your sentence. 

“Y/n! You have got to look at this right now!” She exclaims breathlessly. She grabs your arm and pulls you up from your chair. “Come!” 

“You too, Dani!” 

Suddenly the three of you are running through the hallways, past all the mingling students. There was a crowd around the board. 

“Hey! Get out of the way! We’re trying to see here!” Hanni yells, shoving through the crowd to make your way to the front. You spot Minji with her hand on her mouth. She was shocked. 

You spot the other two girls with Minji — Haerin and Hyein — they looked horrified. 

“Oh my god — move!” Danielle is pissed. No one would make way for the three of you. Suddenly the crowd parts and you hear students whisper. 

“It’s Y/n…I wonder how she’s gonna react…”

“She’ll probably lose her shit, I don’t blame her though.” You hear from a student. Your heart beats faster and faster as you make your way to the old school board. 

RANK ONE: YANG JUNGWON

RANK TWO: KANG Y/N 

Your spot was indeed taken — and it was no longer your name. You gasped in horror. You couldn’t believe your eyes, you can’t. It’s just not possible — how could someone just take it in a blink of an eye? 

You thought it was some sort of sick joke — a prank, even — to have a student, nonetheless a new one — to have higher marks than you. Your system was broken, destroyed by some random guy. Your grades started to falter while his only seemed to thrive on the number one spot you once owned…

INTERESTED IN READING THE REST? CLICK HERE TO VIEW THE FULL STORY!

#— 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 🐈 #k-labels #— 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 : 𝐥𝐢𝐳 ୨ৎ 💋 #𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 📚 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭) #yang jungwon #jungwon x reader #enhypen x reader #jungwon enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enha #enha x reader #jungwon x you #jungwon smau #enhypen smau #enhablr #enha imagines #enha fluff #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon imagines #yang jungwon scenarios #yang jungwon fluff #jungwon fluff

[darylbae]

never again — daryl dixon 🩰

in which you reunite with daryl after him being taken by the Saviours

note: i had to get this off my brain before i forgot about it & also it's not 100% story accurate as season 7 was so long ago for me lmao

You were a crack shot with a gun. You were quick, reliable, efficient. But nothing prepared you for this.

Negan.

Being on your knees, Lucille being swung around recklessly by the psychopath you'd met only moments ago, you were holding it together. You'd seen a lot since the world had ended, done a lot, lost a lot. Something just felt worse about this, the not knowing, the complete and utter defeat plastered on every face around you. You looked over to Daryl, who you'd only just seen again, being dragged out of a vehicle by one of the many ruffians. The two of you locked eyes for just a moment, hoping to not give anything away between the two of you. His eyes were desperate, helpless, full of every ounce of love his body could carry. Hoping he could give it to you in person soon. You tried to be strong, for the group, for yourself, but this was a loss. There's no trying to be tough here, they had the upper hand. Negan was playing with everyone, playing a party game to choose who dies, laughing maniacally at the tears and shivers you all shared. You lost your breath when the bat clocked Abraham's skull, diverting your eyes away out of pure fear. Fear. At one point that was only reserved for the dead, but you'd come to realize humans were way worse. Everything blurred together after that. Daryl having a moment of courage and clipping Negan before being held down once more. Glenn being hit. Your eyes burning and jaw hurting from clenching your teeth so hard. It had taken every last bit of humanity out of you. You'd lost two parts of the family keeping you glued together. And there was nothing you could do. Your once bright demeanor swapped for one moodier, angrier, emptier. Daryl had been taken by Negan, to be kept. Like a pet. Your mouth dried as you saw him thrown into the back of a vehicle, like an animal, like he meant nothing to nobody. But he meant something to you. The love of your life. The reason to want to survive this mess daily. He meant everything to you. Even from before, you'd never had a connection like this with anyone. Daryl understood you, knew you, cared so deeply for you, and you him. You spoke about marrying, about finding a nice place to yourselves one day, about making a beautiful family to devote your time to.

You stayed in Alexandria, out of fear. You wanted to leave, you wanted to tell Negan to shove it, you wanted to side with Rosita and stand up for yourselves, like you always had. But Negan having Daryl changed everything for you. You didn't want to do anything to put him in harm's way, you wanted him back. Negan and his group would occasionally come in, take whatever they wanted, and leave. You'd see Daryl, all dirty with his head low. And you'd tell yourself it wasn't him. That wasn't your Daryl. He'd look at you, and you could still see him in there, but the looks were always fleeting. So you'd sit in your house, parts of your furniture gone, waiting for your turn with Lucille. You'd sit on your porch, a blank stare cast over your face as you think about him. You'd sit out here together, reading a book to him as he massaged your legs that were propped up on his lap. You'd join him out here for a smoke, not to smoke but for company, and you'd talk to him about a cute thing Judith did that day, or what you thought your own kids would look like. Nobody was happy living like this, trembling at the sound of the whistling, or the men just wandering around the streets and homes. But Rick was submitting, he had to. There was no other way. You'd lost all motivation for anything, you'd force yourself on runs, finding resources for Negan. Then you'd come back, sometimes eat, but mostly sleep and think about Daryl.

There were small talks of a fight back, like Maggie had spoken about the morning after Negan. She was on Death's door last time you saw her, but you had hoped and prayed her and Sasha were okay. Rick had shut down every idea of fighting back, saying this is how to survive now. You'd even gone over to him, pleading to do something.

"Please, Rick," you cried, stood at his door with tears sliding down your cheeks, "I need him back." "I know." Was all he said, pulling you into his arms. The comfort was nice, but these arms weren't the ones you wanted around you.

Then you'd lost Spencer, Eugene, and almost Rosita. Your emotions were burning inside of you, you felt like a spectator in this sick, twisted game. Enough was enough.

"I'm fighting, Rick," you spoke, your voice low. Broken but determined. Michonne stood by you; you needed to go to war. There's no more lying down and taking it. "We've lost so much, too much, for this to be our lives now." You cried, "I'm not losing anything else. Anyone else."

You were headed to Hilltop, where Maggie and Sasha were. You were hopeful for their health, and survival, and to see them both on the other side of those gates, was a sight for sore eyes. "You were right," Rick said to Maggie, but you couldn't hear the rest. Your eyes had drowned out everything around you. Your eyes, you thought, were playing tricks on you. There he was. You'd walked over to him, unsure if this was just another nightmare like the previous nights, or if this was him. Daryl. Standing in front of you. The two of you just looked at each other, unable to comprehend what you were seeing. Until Daryl had opened his arms for you, crying into your shoulder as you were his. The two of you a sobbing mess in each other's limbs. "I got ya back," he whispered, for only you to hear, "I've been thinking about ya every day. I couldn't stop." "I'm here." You cried, holding him tighter against your body. "I'm not going anywhere, you're never leaving me again." "I know, baby, I know."

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon incorrect quotes #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl imagines #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut

[mikobeautifulheart]

Calling you their girlfriend

When your not actually together (yet). *Not proof read

(Btw use of the word girlfriend and mentions of death and corpses.)

INCLUDING: Megumi and Yuji

~Megumi~

You slowly opened your eyes and started to pull your stuff together. You stood up, not paying attention to the large gash on your leg bleeding out.

Instead you let out a sigh and walked past what was left of Nanami's body, You made your way through Shibuya station before setting your eyes on the unconscious body of Megumi. You leaned down and slung his arm around the back of your neck. Being totally honest you didn't even know if Megumi was alive, regardless you were going to get Megumi ('s body) out of there.

It was hard, he was taller and heavier then you but you still somewhat dragged his body out of there only to be met with Ichiji's corps on the floor. You kept staring at it until you felt Megumi's weight leave you, making you turn your head to see Shoko and other sorcerers attending to peoples wounds.

"Y/n are you okay? Y/n?"

You heard her voice fine but all you did was stare at her, empty and exhausted.

"Make sure Megumi's alright" Was the last thing you remember before blacking out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"No, you HAVE to let me see her"

It was a familiar low voice, one you were fond of.

"Sorry but she's in no condition to see visitors right now."

"Will she die if she sees me?"

"No but-"

Yeah it was Megumi's voice, that means he is okay then.

"Then i'm going in"

The door slowly slid open and that was the first time you opened your eyes after Shibuya. The thought of Megumi coming to visit you made your head spin (in the good way) even if he did come out of curiosity at least it meant he sort of cared about you.

"We can't just let anyone get in there"

"She's my girlfriend" he said agitated.

Your heart started pumping and your cheeks were pink. No that couldn't be Megumi then, it was probably a dream. There was nothing between you guys other then being class mates. You sunk back into disappointment and closed your eyes so you didn't have to see the imaginary situation unfold.

The room was silent and suddenly you felt a rough hand hold yours, and a gentle thumb rub. Your breath hitched, if it was a dream this feeling wouldn't be so... real.

"Sir, your going to have to leave or i'll call security"

he turned his head, about to say something.

"If he leaves i'll die" You said with a raspier voice then you remembered.

He whipped his head around so fast, confirming in your mind that this was real. He squeezed your hand tighter as your eyes wandered to the bandage on his arm.

"You were out pretty bad huh? Are you okay?" you asked.

The nurse took that as her que to leave.

"About that. I don't really know what to say because saying thank you dosen't really measure up to how grateful I am to you."

"Eh w's nothing" you mumbled slightly embarrassed.

"I heard you outside there, nice save with the girlfriend thing." you said trying to change the subject.

"Yeah...I guess." He said, the tip of his ears turning pink.

"I'm just glad your better Megumi" You said sensing how unconfutable he felt after your comment.

"Look y/n I-I know were just friends or classmates or whatever you think but I...I really like you more then that."

You let out a giggle

"I like you more then that too."

-Yuji-

Yuji is a calm guy, he's rational and friendly. So why is it now that in the deepest part of his chest did he feel some stirring frustration?

For weeks he's been getting to know everyone at Jujutsu high and you were no exception. Out of everyone he knew you were the one he would hang out with most. Something about your nature kept drawing him in, leave him wanting for more. All those late nights at each others dorms, walks around the city when you finished your missions together and going to the cinema when you both had time off.

You had grown on Yuji and he trusted you, that's why he was clenching his fists and smiling when he heard one of the Kyoto school guys asked if you were busy after the event.

Its not like he had any right to interfere with your friendships anyway, he knew that he was just a friend right now and if you wanted to hang around the Kyoto students then that was your choice.

But Yuji just couldn't shake the torment of the guys smile when ever you laughed at his crappy jokes.

"Ah Yuji there you are, what the hell do you think your doing here!? We were supposed to met at- HEY DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME!" Nobora yelled as she watched Yuji stand up in some sort of trance and slowly walk toward you.

"Oh hey Yuji, I was just talking to some of the Kyoto students, this guys a fan of movies to!" You smiled brightly.

"Nice to met you" The guy smiled at Yuji reaching his hand out for Yuji to shake.

"You to, so y/n tells me you like movies?" Yuji put on an innocent grin.

"Yeah, bit of a film expert actually." he chuckled looking at you.

"Wow, must be nice I don't usually get the story first time round, luckily my smart girlfriend rants to me about it after." Yuji said with a checkmate look on his face.

"Honestly sometimes I zone out but I like letting her pretty lips run, its music to my ears."

You felt your face heat up, there's a chance Yuji made a mistake- he couldn't have possibly just called you his girlfriend, right?

"Honestly I must be the luckiest man alive because y/n is was out of my league."

The Kyoto student also turned red. All he could do was mutter a 'yeah' and walk away dissapointed.

Yuji stood there grinning before thinking abut what he had actually done. What a jerk he though.

Suddenly he felt an arm link onto his making him look down surprised.

"I'm so glad to have such a lovely boyfriend too." You said smiling brightly.

"S-sorry y/n I don't know what got over me haha..." He trailed off hoping the earth would swallow him whole.

"Well maybe if you take me to the cinema tonight I'll forgive you."

He turned his head back to you and beamed.

"Your going to have to explain it to me after though."

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: Teheh I think if this post goes well i'll make a part 2. My inboxes are empty so... Reblogs r welcomed. Have a good whatever time.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuji #jjk yuji #yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader

[tsunami-of-tears]

Someplace better

Azriel x Reader

A/N: This is dark. There are no happy endings. Please read the warnings.

Wordcount: <1K

Warnings: angst doesn’t even cut it; emotionally abusive family dynamic; suicide; it does not end well, you’ve been warned.

My mother is a horrible wench. 

We just had yet another fight that ended in screaming and tears and slammed doors. 

I thought our relationship was getting better. I was trying to open up about the struggles I’ve been having, only to have them all thrown back in my face. 

“Before you point the finger at everyone else, maybe you need to consider that you’re the problem,” she sneers. 

I’d been trying to tell her how overwhelmed I felt, that I felt stuck and couldn’t see a way out. I can feel myself starting to crack under the pressure, pieces of me splintering as I try to be everything for everyone. 

No matter how hard I try, it’s not enough. There’s always something I’m not doing, something not done right. 

‘You’re a failure and a burden,’ that little voice says, harmonising with my mother’s insults.

“I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself,” she says dismissively. 

So much for motherly love… 

————

Later that evening, I’m heading to the River House for a family dinner. These events have become less frequent with everyone’s busy schedules, and I’m looking forward to seeing my friends. 

Rhysand greets me at the door, pulling me into a hug. “Y/N, it’s been too long,” he smiles down at me warmly. “Everyone else is here already, come in.” 

“It’s good to see you, I’ve missed everyone,” I give Rhys a tight smile in return. 

Time appears to stop as we walk down the hallway. The awkwardness drags on for what feels like forever. My thoughts race with things I could say, but my tongue cannot form the words. Rhys notices my silence, furrowing his brows at me. I plaster a huge smile on my face, attempting to conceal my inner turmoil. I can’t tell if Rhys picks up on my forgery. 

We enter the living room which is alive with chatter between my friends. 

Mor, Feyre and Cassian are laughing together, likely about something Cassian said. 

Amren and Nesta are engaged in a heated discussion.

And then Azriel… He’s with Elain, talking softly together about gods knows what. My heart starts to crack at the sight. 

I really don’t want to get between Nesta and Amren, and I can’t face Azriel and Elain together, so I sit next to Cassian as Rhys perches on the arm of the chair beside Feyre. He leans down to kiss her softly on the top of her head and I look away quickly, the crack growing until I feel like my heart is split in two.

Cassian gives me a quick peck on the cheek as I sit before returning to his conversation with Feyre and Mor. 

I struggle to engage with anyone, feeling more alone than ever while surrounded by my chosen family. 

————

The rest of the night is much of the same. 

Every single word is a monumental effort. 

I’m hyper-aware of every single person around the table. Every single smile and hidden touch. I feel as if I’m watching from behind a window. I’m on the outside. Alone.

‘They’ll be fine without you,’ that little voice whispers in my ear. ‘Look how happy they are. They don’t need you. All your efforts are wasted. You are a waste.’

After dinner I bid everyone goodnight, heading up to my room. 

I miss the concerned glances between my friends, who noticed I’ve been extra quiet tonight.

I miss the shadows that follow behind me. 

I miss the way Azriel zones out from what Elain is saying as he watches me leave. 

————

I can’t remember the last time I stayed in this room but all my things remain untouched. Clothing, journals, even some beauty products - all where I left them. 

I pick up one of my old journals and flip through the pages. I mostly write down the bad stuff. It usually helps get the feelings out, but right now, it’s only adding to the storm that’s brewing inside me. 

I carefully set down the books in a stack on my nightstand, picking up a scrap of parchment. As I always do, I write. 

I’m sorry to do this here, tonight, but I cannot go on any longer.  I truly believe this is for the best. The world was not made for people like me. I’m far too soft.  I love you all. Y/N

I set the note down on the bed and rummage through my various medicines. I’ve always struggled to sleep, so I should have some extra tonics in here somewhere… 

I find four bottles of sleeping tonic in one of my drawers, plus the one in my pocket. 

I arrange them on the nightstand in a straight line. 

I pick up the first bottle, uncorking it and raising it in the air. 

A toast, to finding someplace better.

I bring the glass rim to my lips, chugging the clear liquid. 

One down. Just a few more. 

I make short work of the remaining bottles, though I feel a bit queasy from the sheer volume. 

As I set down the last bottle, a wisp of darkness curls around my wrist and snakes between the empty bottles. 

“You’re too late,” I tell it. 

The shadow vanishes and my eyes start to droop. 

I lay down on the bed, my entire body feeling heavy. 

As I feel myself losing the battle for consciousness, a mass of dark shadows appears next to the bed. 

Azriel. 

He is frantic as he reaches towards me. 

So close. He was so close. 

I never get to feel those hands again as the world fades to black and I give myself over to the endless sleep. 

A/N: I’m not gonna lie and say I’m okay when clearly I’m not, but I’m not unsafe tonight. 

Mental Health Resources*:  If you’re in immediate danger please call your country’s emergency number. Australia: Beyond Blue: https://www.beyondblue.org.au/ Mental Health Hotline: [phone] Lifeline: 13 11 14 USA:  Crisis Line (call or text): 988 UK:  Lifeline: 0808 808 8000 *If I have gotten anything wrong or if you have other resources to add, please let me know

#azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar angst

[zegrasdrysdale]

Hiiii can you write something with Mason Mctavish? Possibly about a boat/beach party with teammates? I have no other ideas so whatever you think would fit (:

[ beach day ] m. mctavish

paring : Mason McTavish x fem!reader

summary : Mason brings his girlfriend to the Ducks’ end of season beach party

warning(s) : some suggestive comments, a heavy makeout or two

author’s note : slowlyyy making my way through all the requests in my inbox. sorry this took so long anon. enjoy <33

༺═──────────────═༻

One of her favorite things in the world is spending a day on a beach somewhere. A day on the beach with some of her favorite people sounds like her perfect day. It’s why she immediately said yes when Mason asked if she’d want to to go with him to the Ducks’ end of season party.

She’s so excited that she’s up two hours before the alarm is set to go off. She decides that she won’t be able to get back to sleep so she makes her way out to the kitchen to bake some cookies for the guys. She doesn’t want to wake Mason up so she decides to busy herself.

After a cup of coffee, she gets started on the first batch of cookies.

The alarm goes off at eight like expected since they have to leave at nine to go get Trevor and Leo. She’s pulling a third tray of baked cookies out of the oven when she hears footsteps in the hallway after the alarm is shut off.

“Uh, good morning?” Mason says, confusion evident in his voice. “Why are you awake so early and baking?”

She turns her head once the tray is on the counter. “I woke up and couldn’t sleep so I decided to bake some cookies so I wouldn’t wake you,” she explains. “I thought that I should bring something to the party.”

Mason laughs and wraps his arms around her waist. He presses a kiss to the swell of her ear. “You are insane for baking so early,” he laughs. “Time to get ready to go though. We have to go pick up Z and Leo.”

“Cookies have to cool anyway before I put them in a container,” she tells him. “I’ll get ready then put them in a container.”

He pecks her neck and she smiles. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he replies. Mason grabs one of the smaller cookies and eats it. He runs away before she can slap his hand. She rolls her eyes and follows him to their bedroom.

Her boyfriend disappears into the bathroom that's attached to the bedroom while she changes out of her pajamas into the cute bikini she picked out for the day. It's a simple black bikini. The top ties around her back and behind her neck. The sides of her bottoms tie.

She throws on a sheer black coverup and ties her hair up in a ponytail as Mason comes out of the bathroom in his swim shorts and a Ducks hockey t-shirt. His curls are wild. She can't help but walk over to him and mess with his curls. "Baby," he groans as he tries to grab her hand. "Stop."

"I'm trying to tame your curls, Mase," she laughs. "They're all over the place. You need a haircut."

"And cut the curls?" he questions. "I thought you liked my curls. You throw a fit every time I have to cut them."

"I do," she giggles. "But there comes a time when we have to make some sacrifices. I'm willing to sacrifice some of your curls if it means you don't have a birds nest on your head every morning."

Mason playfully rolls his eyes and leaves the bedroom. She slides on a pair of flip flops and runs out after him.

He packs their beach bag. Two towels for both of them, sunscreen, a book for her since she likes reading on the beach, and a frisbee that Mason got at some point in his life. After all 35 cookies are in a Tupperware container, she puts it in the bag. She grabs her sunglasses and they are out the door to go pick up Trevor and Leo. He grabs one of the beach chairs on the way out.

Jamie might make a quick appearance since he's in Anaheim to pick up the last of his things before he goes to Canada for the offseason. She's not sure if he's definitely coming, but she misses him and hopes he does come by the party for a bit. She was probably closer to Jamie than she is to anyone else on the team other than Mason. They're super close. Well, they were when he wasn't playing across the country in Philly.

She drives while Mason texts both Trevor and Leo. Z is closer so they go to pick him up first. When he gets in the car, she wishes that they picked up Leo first because Trevor just starts talking in the backseat.

Leo gets in the car when Trevor and Mason are in a conversation about whether or not Jamie is coming. Neither have heard from him in a few days, and she hasn't either.

The twenty minute drive to Long Beach doesn't feel very long after she puts Miss Swift on. It drowns out most of the conversation that the boys are having. Trevor joins her in singing along to Taylor every couple of songs.

It's about ten in the morning when she finds a spot in the nearest parking garage. Mason carries their bag and the beach chair. She did offer to carry something but Mason didn't let her despite still feeling his knee injury that kept him from playing the last few games of the season. He walks with a slight limp and has for a little bit since he hurt his knee.

A few of the Ducks are already on the beach when they get on the sand. Franky, Minty, Comber, and Dosty have saved a rather large spot on the beach for them. She sets herself up under one of the umbrellas. Mason claims the beach chair first.

"Nope, get up," she tells him. Mason looks up at her. "Sunscreen before you do anything else. I don't need to go to the hospital with you because you got sun poisoning or something."

Mason groans. "I'm under an umbrella," he argues. "I'll be fine."

"Mason McTavish," she sternly says. "You are 21. Put on sunscreen or I will have Z and Minty hold you down while I do it myself. No hospital trips because you forgot to put on sunscreen even though I told you to put it on."

He blinks at her and sighs. She smiles as he listens to her and grabs the sunscreen out of their bag. It's a bottle of lotion so he's able to rub it in everywhere except his back. He holds the bottle out to her and asks, "Get my back please?"

She stands up from sitting on her towel to help out Mason. She puts some of the lotion on his back and begins to rub it in.

A soft moan passes Mason's lips and she lightly slaps his shoulder. "Stop it," she tells him, but she has a smile on her face.

"Not my fault I can't keep it together when your hands are all over me like this," he comments. "Plus, it feels really good when you press on my back like that."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. The smile still on her lips as she finishes up.

"Since we're at it, can you do mine?" she questions. She pulls off the cover up that didn't do a lot to cover up what she was wearing under since it was totally see through. Mason's eyes are on her the entire time as she tosses the cover up in the bag.

"Yeah I can," he replies. He's very enthusiastic about it too. She laughs and turns. Mason takes the bottle out of her hands.

The lotion is so cold on her skin. She shivers as Mason begins to rub it into her back. She bites her lip because it does feel really good. Especially when he gets to the back of her neck. "You're so right," she sighs. "It feels good, and it's not just because it's you."

Mason laughs. "That's what I'm saying!"

He continues down her back to make sure he gets every inch of her skin. He gets lower and lower until he rubs whatever is left on his hands on her ass. She squeals and slaps his arm. "Inappropriate, Mason," she tells him.

"It's in my face, baby," he teases. "I had to. I couldn't resist."

Before she turns around, Mason presses a peck to her neck right under her ear. "You're insufferable," she softly says.

"Yeah, yeah," he laughs. "Can I go now? I'm all sunscreened up."

She turns and says, "I want a proper kiss first."

A mischievous smirk forms on Mason's face as he leans in. Then he deeply and slowly kisses her, making her weak in the knees. He takes his time with the kiss, which earns him some chirps from his teammates.

Mason pulls back from the kiss and she frowns. "I know, we're sitting and watching the sun set together," he tells her. "I'll make sure that I'm with you when the sun begins to go down. Promise."

He always keeps his promises too.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The party really begins when Jamie Drysdale makes his appearance. Every single one of his former teammates nearly tackles him when he shows up around one that afternoon. Mason and Trevor in particular are very excited to see him. The three of them were like brothers and were always together.

She watches Mason, Trevor, and Jamie throw around the frisbee while they talk. She even sneaks a picture or two of them so she can show them later.

Most of the day, she sits around with the other wives and girlfriends. Mason is busy in the water or watching the boys play volleyball or just chatting with his teammates. Occasionally he’ll come up and say something to her, but she tells him have some fun with his teammates before they head to Canada for the offseason.

It’s probably around three when Mason comes walking up to her. She’s laying on her stomach and is reading Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice when he approaches her. Some water droplets fall on her back, and they feel really good in the dry California heat.

“Yes?” she asks with a smile.

“Come with me for a second,” he tells her. “I promise I’m not going to do anything bad. Just come with me.”

She puts her book facedown on the towel to mark what page she was on before she gets up.

As soon as she’s on her feet, Mason scoops her up in his arms. She squeals and squirms to get out of his grasp. “Mason! Don’t you dare do what I think you’re about to do!”

“What am I about to do?” he innocently questions as he walks toward the crashing waves.

“If you throw me in that ocean, we’re going to have some issues, McTavish,” she warns him. Of course there’s a hint of playfullness in her voice but she isn’t going to be very happy if she ends up in the water.

His legs hit a wave and water splashes up and hits her lower back. She shivers and wraps her arms around his neck. “I never said I was going to throw you in the ocean,” Mason says.

He treks until the water reaches his waist.

Then he drops her in the water.

She doesn’t go completely underwater but it takes her a moment to get on her feet. “Mason!” she gasps from the sudden cold. “I’m going to kill you.”

“No you won’t,” he laughs. “You look cute in the water.”

She jumps and wraps herself around him. She uses all her weight to try to get him under the water, but he is so much stronger than she is. She groans and plants her feet back in the sand. “I hate you,” she mumbles as she pushes her hair out of her face so the salt water doesn’t get in her eyes.

Mason takes a step to her in the water as a wave pushes the water up to their chests to helps her. His fingers rest under her chin so she looks up at him. Water droplets fall from his curls and down his face. “You love me,” he tells her with a smile. “No matter if I throw you in the water or not.”

A wave pushes her closer to her boyfriend. Their chests are flush against each other and she smiles. Her face gets hot at the intense moment of affection. She isn’t the biggest fan of public affection but sometimes she’ll enjoy a moment or two.

This one is intense, but she guesses it’s okay. They just have minimal clothing on at one of the most public places in the world.

“I do love you,” she confesses. “Have you been enjoying your day with the team? I know you guys wanted to make playoffs but you guys just were so unlucky with injuries.”

Mason’s hands come down to rest on her waist so she can’t go anywhere. “I know, but we’re still trying,” he tells her. “There’s always next season. We just need that ‘next man up’ mentality that we lacked this season. We’re a very young team, and we’re ready. We just need to stay healthy.”

She smiles at his response. Despite only two full years in the NHL, Mason already seems like he knows what he’s talking about. He’s so knowledgeable about hockey and team mentality.

A wave pushes her into Mason and they both share a soft laugh. She looks up at him before he leans down and captures her lips in a salty kiss. She giggles and drapes her arms over his shoulders as she returns the kiss.

Mason wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her up so she wraps her legs around him. Her ankles hook behind him so she doesn’t fall into the water. She brushes his soaked curls out of his face so the salt water stop dripping down his face and into the kiss. He cups the back of her thighs to keep her up.

A bigger, more powerful wave knocks Mason off his feet and they both crash into the shallow water. They both laugh as they find their footing again. “Probably our cue to stop before something happens and we’d have to abandon Leo and Z to go home and handle things,” he says.

“Speak for yourself about going home,” she replies. “I’d find a way to ride you somewhere in a more secluded or private area. We can’t abandon Leo and Trevor.”

Mason’s face turns bright red as she laughs and walks back to her towel to dry off. When she turns around, she finds Mason talking with Trevor, Jamie, Leo, Minty, and Zelly. Trevor claps him on the back and the boys laugh.

This is one thing that she loves about hockey. Mason will always have his boys. Playoffs or not. Stanley Cup or not. He will have his boys and they will always have him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The sun begins to set around six. Everyone is out of the water and is playing either volleyball or throwing around the frisbee. A couple of players sit with their significant other while they watch the sun set over the pacific ocean.

Mason makes his way over to where his girlfriend sits. He sits behind her and wraps his arms around her shoulders as she takes in the view in front of her. Her back is pressed against his chest and she smiles.

It’s the perfect way to end a perfect beach day.

She feels Mason kiss the swell of her ear. “Have a good day, baby?” he whispers. “You seemed to have fun.”

With a nod and a sigh, she replies, “It was the best day. I really did have a lot of fun. I enjoyed getting a tan when I wasn’t with you. I had fun throwing around a frisbee and playing doubles volleyball with Jamie. I finished my book too after a few weeks of not reading it.”

“Glad you had fun,” Mason laughs. “The guys seemed to enjoy your morning cookies too, by the way. They were all gone by two. I think Z and Jimmy ate most of them.”

She laughs and sinks back against her boyfriend. “They would eat all the cookies,” she sighs as she rests her hands on Mason’s arms. “I’ll have to send Jamie back to Philly with some, or ship them to him next season. Oh! Maybe I’ll give him some when the Flyers play the Ducks in Anaheim next season.”

He laughs again and shakes his head. “You are insane,” he tells her. “But I love you anyway.”

“You better, or no more cookies for you,” she teases.

Mason pokes her side in retaliation and she giggles. He smiles as she turns around and places herself in his lap. She brushes his curls out of his face for probably what is the millionth time today.

“Is it weird to say that I can’t wait to do this again next season?” he asks as he traces shapes into her thighs. “I mean, I’ve never been on a team where we were actually a contending team but I can’t wait to get back on the ice next season with the guys.”

She smiles and runs her thumbs over his lips. “You have a family in your team, Mase,” she tells him. “Those guys are your brothers. You’d ride or die for them. It makes so much sense that you would want to play with them again, no matter if you’re a contending team or not. I love the bond you have with them. Even former teammates like Jamie. That’s why you’re excited to play with them again next season.”

Mason trails his fingers from her thighs to her back. “So smart,” he replies. “I do love them like brothers, but I love you more. I’m so grateful to have your here with me.”

“I love this crazy journey you’re on,” she says. “Happy to be on it with you.”

He smiles and leans up to kiss her.

Yep. The perfect ending to a perfect beach day.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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taglist : @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @love4lando

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey fluff #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff #mason mctavish #mason mctavish x reader #mason mctavish fluff #zegrasdrysdale request

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Thanks @welcometololaland @beautifulhigh @orchidscript for the tags today—hopefully that’s everyone, apologies if not—and to everyone who’s tagged me over the last few weeks. The old mental health is once again Not Great Jim and writing is not coming easily but unfortunately it is also the only way I know how to feel good about myself so here we are persevering etc.

This is from the blackmail kink fic—if that’s something you’re morally opposed to, I support your right to feel that way but I also do not care, keep scrolling xoxo

Snippet is under the cut but first, tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice

@everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz

@leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites

@ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @piratefalls

@read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27

@sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

Otherwise, (hopefully) enjoy the spice below the cut…

It started on Reddit, as all good decisions do.

Alex has always had a bit of a thing about being watched. It’s not narcissism—shut the fuck up, Nora—he just… really fucking likes knowing that he’s the one getting someone off. Since starting college, Alex has perfected the art of the risqué selfie; keeping his abs and thighs in the shot as well as his dick, lighting himself well, making sure he’s suitably vocal as he strokes himself when he posts a video instead of a picture. Reddit, with its ridiculous number of NSFW subreddits ranging from the expected to the terrifyingly specific, is an instant feedback loop of people more than willing to tell him, in explicit detail, exactly what it is about his body and his actions and his sounds that brings them over the edge. His DMs range from respectfully horny to disrespectfully horny in a way he’s been very clear he’s onto, with only the odd one that is actually disrespectful, and they find themselves on the inconvenient side of the block button before Alex can say ‘fuck off’.

And then, a few months after he started posting semi-regularly, he opened his Reddit chats to find a message reading simply:

NYU? Pretty sure I recognise that view out your window haha

It should have been terrifying. It was, genuinely, a good reminder about stranger danger. Except Alex had gotten a hand around his cock without thinking about it, staring at the words on his phone screen, mind spinning with the possibility that someone could put two and two together, that someone on campus might have dozens of pictures of Alex’s dick on their phone without Alex knowing, that someone could put him on his knees to stop his secret getting out…

He’d come harder and faster than he had in months, and spent the next several hours down a brand new fucking rabbit hole.

#six sentence sunday #kiwiana-writes #fic: sometimes it's better when it's publicly

[minkyungseokie]

第三章 | First Day of Work

warnings; age gap love(R: 23, S:39, T: 50), untranslated Korean, untranslated Chinese

note; chapter three!! I might be falling out of love with the sport ngl. After this, I might take a long break

note2; please feel free to request moodboards, blurbs, smaus, or anything else you want for this series. Or just request anything as long as you read my rules and how to request thing

fc; imleslie(Y/n), xavier serrano(Aaron Antognelli), blanca soler(Chiara Lorenzi)

Come Talk to Me

Driven by Destiny Masterlist | Previous | Next

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I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

DO NOT ask me to update this story. I'll update this when I can.

An arm reached out from under the mound of blankets and practically slapped the phone off the table as the alarm pierced through the quiet and comfortable atmosphere, "Ugh.." Y/n groaned, retracting her arm and cuddling into her pillow. Just as she was about to fall back to sleep, the familiar sound of her ringtone rang through the air, "God fucking dammit." Y/n cursed, throwing the blanket off of her body and grabbing her phone.

Y/n put the phone on speaker and threw her legs over the side of the bed, "What?" She barked, "Woah, why so hostile? You told me to call you to ensure you woke up." The voice of Y/n's sister, Jisue, or Rachel, said. Y/n sighed and picked up her phone, unplugging it from the wall before walking to the bathroom, "Yeah, I remember. Sorry, I just...didn't sleep very well last night." Y/n groaned, running a hand through her hair as she searched through her drawers for an outfit.

"It's fine. You forget that I'm your older sister. It isn't my first time dealing with you when you're like this. Do you know what you're going to wear?" Rachel questioned, "Nah, I'm completely clueless, mate. You wanna hop on FaceTime and help me pick an outfit?' Y/n asked, grabbing her phone and waiting for her sister to answer.

"Duh. You know I would love to help you out. Say, I'm at Mum and Dad's right now, so I can get Olivia to help as well if you want." Rachel suggested. Y/n gasped, "Yes! Yes, go get her!" Y/n encouraged. She loved all of her siblings the same amount and Y/n refused to treat one better than the other two, but Olivia was the baby of the family, everyone had a soft spot for the girl.

She was an absolute sweetheart, as all of the Lee siblings were. "Okay, hold on. She'd love to help since you're probably her favourite sibling." Rachel joked, Y/n scoffed playfully and rolled her eyes, "Oli doesn't have a favourite sibling. If she did, it'd be Felix."

Rachel quickly got up and went to go get Olivia while Y/n pulled out some options to wear otherwise they would be there all day going through her clothes.

Thudding was heard on the other end of the phone and the thump of someone landing on the soft bed the phone must've been on. "Y/N!!" Olivia greeted cheerfully, "Oliva!" Y/n copied her enthusiasm. "Olivia, be careful with my phone." Rachel hissed, plopping down on the bed next to her youngest sister, "Oh shush, Rachel. I was being careful. Anyway, I'm going to FaceTime you now." Olivia directed her attention to Y/n.

The older Australian waited until the screen for the call popped up and immediately hit answer, "G'day, my lovely sisters." Y/n greeted again, waving with both hands. Olivia was lying on the bed with her feet up in the air, swinging back and forth while Rachel sat behind her.

"Hello! Show us what you have already." Olivia said, getting into a better position, "Move over, Olivia." Rachel ordered, getting on the bed and pushing the youngest Lee sibling over gently. "Okay, keep in mind that I want to make a good impression on my boss." Y/n reminded, putting the shirts over her arm so she could get ready to show them off.

Y/n looked at her phone to see both of her sisters giving her looks of suspicion, "What?" Y/n asked, "Since when did you care about giving off good impressions?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at the younger woman, "Yeah, you usually don't care unless..." Olivia let out a loud gasp, "You're...are..Y/n! Do you want to attract your boss?! Is he or she attractive?! What's their name? I'm going to look them up."

"Woah, woah, woah, Olivia. Calm Down. What are you getting at?" Rachel asked, putting a hand on their sister's shoulder, who was vibrating in place as she grabbed Rachel's laptop. "You weren't around when this happened, but every time Y/n put more effort into her appearance, she found the boss super attractive," Olivia explained.

"Is this true, Y/n? Do you find your boss attractive?" Rachel questioned with a teasing smile growing on her face, Y/n looked to the side as her cheeks gained a hue, "Maybe, but it doesn't matter. She's married and way out of my league. Anyway. here are my shirt options." Y/n brushed off the topic and showed off each of the shirts.

"Hmm, personally I like option number three the most. I think go with the black button down. You look amazing in black." Olivia said, "I agree, black is a part of your aesthetic." Rachel agreed.

Y/n took off her pyjama shirt and threw it onto the bed just as she got another call, "Who's calling you?" Olivia asked, "Yongbok. I'm going to add him to the FaceTime call." Y/n said, picking up her phone again and sending a text to her younger brother.

After the text was sent, it didn't take too long for Felix to join the call just as Y/n was propping the phone up, "Hello. Why are you shirtless?" Felix asked as his face popped up on the screen.

A face popped up over Felix's shoulder and stared at Y/n with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, "I was getting dressed for my first day at work. Hey, Hannie." Y/n greeted, waving at the wide-eyed quokka.

The chubby-faced boy waved back, "안녕하세요, 누나." Jisung greeted, "지성아, 말해봐요. 이 셔츠 마음에 들어요? 아니면 다른 걸로 갈까요?" Y/n asked, holding up the black button-down. "Black..is good. I like black." Jisung answered, giving the girl a thumbs up.

Y/n unbuttoned the shirt and threw it on, "너도 도와줄 거야, 하니?" Y/n questioned, seeing the younger man was still there, "네, 괜찮으시다면." Jisung answered.

"Next up are the pants. Show us what you got." Felix said, "Yeah, I'm ready to see what you have for pants." Olivia spoke, "Knowing her they are all going to be high-waisted pants that are either in black or that weird tan-beige colour." Rachel joked.

Rachel looked at Y/n, who was now standing frozen with a guilty look on her face, "Y/n, you do have jeans in more than one style and two colours, right?" Rachel asked. Y/n pursed her lips and picked up two pairs of shoes, "So what shoes should I go for?" She asked, changing the subject

"I like the platform Doc Martins." Felix said, "I like the boots." Rachel said, pointing to the Doc Martin boots that Y/n held in her other hand/ "I like the platforms." Olivia said, "I like..boots as well." Han spoke.

"So we have two for the boots and two for the platforms. Hey, Olivia, go get mum and ask for her opinion." Y/n ordered. Olivia rolled her eyes but went to go get their mother as requested, "Mum!" Olivia called out as she jogged to wherever their mother was located in the house.

"So how are things in Monaco?" Felix asked, "Oh, Monaco is amazing so far. I've only been to a few places which were the market, my new home, a cafe to meet my new boss, and that's about it." Y/n shrugged.

"Speaking of her new boss. Y/n might have a little crush on her married boss." Rachel told Felix, "Rachel! Lixie, don't listen to her. I don't have a crush on Mrs. Wolff. I do think she's gorgeous, but nothing would ever come of it if I did want to be more than friends, or more than boss and PA, with her." Y/n rolled her eyes.

"I don't think it means anything. You know how Y/n is. She finds people attractive, but she's too scared...sorry, shy, to do anything about her attraction." Felix said.

"Hey!"

"I'm back with Mum!" Olivia announced, running into the room and diving onto the bed. Sure enough, after a couple of seconds, the Lee sibling's mother enters the room and sits down, "Hello, Mum!" Y/n greeted the beautiful woman.

"Hello, sweetheart. I just want to let you know that I'm proud of you for finding such a good job." Mrs. Lee said sweetly, wishing she could hug her child and run her hands through her hair.

"Thank you, mam. I'll be right back." Y/n said, grabbing her clothes before stepping out of the frame. Mrs. Lee got up and exited the room since she was no longer needed, "Do you guys really think Y/n isn't interested in the boss lady?" Olivia asked in a low voice.

"I am not sure, honestly." Rachel admitted, "Y/n 누나는 쉽게 사랑에 빠지는 타입이 아닙니다." Han spoke up, "You're right. She really isn't the type to fall in love easily and she definitely isn't someone who is into homewrecking." Felix agreed.

Rachel opened her mouth to say something, but the sound of rustling clothes getting closer made her snap her jaw shut as quickly as she opened it.

"Okay, how do I look?" Y/n asked, giving the group a 360 view of her outfit. "You look amazing as always." Rachel complimented, "As pretty as always." Felix added, "Unbutton a few of those buttons. You look like a fuc- ahem a nerd." Olivia said.

"N/n, I'm being so serious about this when I ask and I don't want you to think I'm accusing you of anything, but..." Felix trailed off, unsure as to how to phrase the question.

"You usually wear more masculine or androgynous clothing, but all of a sudden you're being really feminine," Olivia spoke up. 

Y/n nearly reeled back in shock. She wasn't doing much of anything other than getting dressed and ready for her first day at work, which she had to get to in an hour. "I'm not sure if I follow what you're trying to say." Y/n narrowed her eyes.

"I'm just saying that maybe you're much more attracted to that woman who hired you than you thought and maybe you're unconsciously changing things about yourself to appeal to her." Rachel shrugged.

Y/n stared at her family with wide eyes. She didn't know why they were accusing her of being into her boss, but it made her want to rip her cochlear out of her head, but it wasn't that serious.

Y/n didn't understand why they would think that. Y/n hated things like that.

Love at first sight.

To her, it wasn't real and never existed. How are you going to fall in love with someone based on nothing but their looks? It's shallow and it's also how people end up in bad relationships since someone could be the most handsome man or woman you had ever met and simultaneously be the shittiest person alive.

To Y/n, being accused of being so attracted to Susie without her properly knowing the woman made Y/n feel like they saw her as shallow and superficial.

To Y/n, being accused of trying to dress to attract a woman with a family meant calling her a homewrecker.

Y/n didn't associate with people like that or live by the love at first sight thing because beauty will fade, but one's character will not.

"You guys know damn well that I'm not like that." Y/n hissed, "Y/n, we don't mean it like that--" Rachel started.

"No, you do mean it like that. I dress for myself and my success, not to attract an already-married woman. What kind of person do you think I am? I told you that she's married. I told you that she has a family." Y/n interrupted.

"Y/nnie..." Han called out, "I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk to any of you right now." Y/n huffed, pressing the 'end call' button. 

The Chinese Australian dusted the imaginary dust off of her outfit and finished getting ready. She grabbed her glasses and put them on before putting her hair in a half up half down style.

Y/n grabbed a belt and wrapped it around her waist, making sure she didn't miss any of the belt loops before grabbing her backpack and the keys to the BMW Series 3 she had rented.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Y/n sat in the car with her hands on the wheel and her eyes closed, she felt bad for assuming what her sisters had meant by what they had said. She also felt really bad for getting so upset with them and she didn't even know why she was so upset by it.

Yes, she was willing to admit that Susie Wolff was an absolutely gorgeous woman, but to say that she was changing herself in order to attract the older woman was blasphemous to her.

Y/n input the address into her phone and followed the directions to a makeshift office that Susie used while In Monaco. The Headquarters was in London and Susie had a son to raise, so she couldn't be in London all the time like she wanted to be.

"Wait, does this mean I'm going to have to travel all over the world? I know that I have an expensive apartment and rent this expensive car, but I'm not rich. This job better pay me enough." Y/n muttered.

Y/n stopped in front of the makeshift office and exited the car with her bag in hand, shoving her keys into the bag as she walked up to the front door. As she stared at the building, her stomach did flips, she hated starting a new job.

Starting a new place of work always made her feel like her stomach was flipping so hard that it'd fall out of her ass. Taking a deep breath and gripping the straps of her bag, Y/n muttered encouragements to herself, "来吧, Y/n。别这么娘娘腔 男人......呃......女人，快滚进大楼" 

After cursing at herself in Chinese, Y/n finally opened the door and stepped inside. "Hello, how may I help you?" The receptionist asked with a sweet smile on her face, "Um, I'm here to see Mrs. Susie Wolff. I am her new PA." Y/n explained, wiping her clammy hands on her pants.

The receptionist typed a few things before picking up her phone and calling someone. After a few minutes, the woman looked up at her again, "Okay, you can go sit and Mrs. Wollf will be with you shortly." 

Y/n nodded and turned to go sit in the lobby. The girl sat down and looked around, studying the lobby of the building. This must be where Susie works when her husband is busy doing whatever it is he does and she wants to be around her son.

"Alright, have a wonderful day. Be a good boy for Jessi, okay?" Y/n turned at the sound of Susie's voice to see her kneeling down with her hands on a little blonde boy's shoulders. The little boy nodded and wrapped his arms around Susie's neck.

Y/n and Susie watched as another woman, whom Y/n admittedly didn't notice at first, picked the young boy up and walked out of the building. Y/n continued to watch the duo leave, not noticing Susie turn to her with a smile.

"Ms. Lee? Ms. Lee?" Susie called out before putting a hand on Y/n's shoulder. Y/n jumped up in surprise and whipped around, "妈的! Oh, Mrs. Wolff. I apologise. I didn't see you walking up to me." Y/n breathed, putting a hand over her heart as if it would stop the racing.

"Did I scare you? I'm sorry." Susie apologised with a chuckle, "It's fine. Anyway, good morning to you, Mrs. Wolff. How was your morning so far?" Y/n questioned, standing up.

"Oh, it was okay. It's been a long and busy one. How about you? How was your morning so far?" Susie asked, "It was a morning. I woke up, got dressed, and drove here." Y/n answered.

Susie gestured for Y/n to follow her, "That's certainly a way to start the morning. Are you hungry?" Susie questioned, Y/n opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by her stomach growling.

It wasn't as loud as books and stories make it out to be, but when in a huge, silent, echoey hallway where things seemed much more audible than they really were...

Y/n's jaw dropped and her hands pressed against her stomach as if that would stop the growling. "I guess that answers my question." Susie chuckled, "We don't have food in the office, but I was planning on revisiting that cafe we went to last time. It's a tad bit stuffy in the office anyway."

Sussie led the younger woman out of the building, "Do you want to ride with me or are you fine taking your car?" Susie questioned. 

Y/n wanted to take the rental car, but she also wanted to ride with Susie. It would be nice to get to know her boss better, but at the same time, Y/n didn't know if it was appropriate to do so.

But wait.

She's a PA, which means she should be nearby at all times during work hours, right? With a nod, Y/n walked up to the passenger side door and put her hand on the handle, "I hope you don't mind if I ride with you." 

Susie waved her in, "No problem. Come on in." She said. Y/n opened the door to the Mercedes and slid into the passenger seat. 

Y/n looked around the interior with a look of awe. She had never been in such a luxury car. She rented the BMW, but it was at a discounted price and even that price was much more than she could afford.

"You like the car?" Susie questioned, looking at Y/n inspecting the interior of the car, "Yeah, it's much nicer than any other car I've been in. When I make enough money, I'm going to get one. A Mercedes, I mean." Y/n answered.

"Is your current car not good enough?" Susie asked, reversing as Y/n buckled up, "No, that's not my car. I rented it and I have to return it soon. I don't have enough money to get one at the moment. Spent all of my money on my expensive apartment." Y/n sighed.

Susie's smile faded as she processed what Y/n had said, while Y/n herself was practically kicking herself. 

Why would she just tell her business to her new boss like that?

"Y/n, do you have enough money for food?" Susie asked but got no answer, which was enough of an answer for her. 

Susie cleared her throat, "Moving on, I'm going to need you to fill out some stuff when we get to the cafe. I forgot to bring it with me last time." Susie changed the subject.

"Of course. I'm excited to go to the cafe again. They had delicious pastries. Have you tried their normal menu?" Y/n asked, gratefully accepting the topic switch.

She didn't need to or want to, seem like she wasn't in a good place. She wasn't, but she wasn't going to tell her new employer that she had spent so much on her apartment, the car, and buying her first set of groceries, that she had no more money.

Which was a huge reason as to why she got this job in the first place. She was a wannabe model whose life went to shit as soon as she tried to be a model. If it weren't for her parents and Felix, she'd...

Y/n shook her head. She didn't want to think about what would've become of her if they hadn't lent her enough money to pay her bills. 

In a way, they were also the only reason she was able to make it to Monaco. 

Susie looked at her new assistant out of the side of her eye. She had been talking to her, but she could tell Y/n's attention wasn't on her.

Her face was blank, but her body said that she wasn't happy with what was going through her head. Susie parked the car in the lot of the cafe in which they first officially met and turned the car off.

She studied the half-Australian before reaching out, pulling her hand back in hesitation before fully reaching out and placing her hand on top of Y/n's clenched one.

Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin when Susie's smooth hand covered hers, the touch was cool yet sent sparks of heat in her stomach. Y/n looked up at the much older woman with wide eyes, "Sorry ma'am, did you--?"

"Are you okay? Truthfully, are you okay?" Susie questioned, Y/n nodded her head, putting her free hand over Susie's, "I'm fine. I was just deep in thought. We should go in." Y/n said, pulling her hands away and exiting the car.

Susie let out a sigh and followed Y/n. It wasn't her place to push the girl, but as her employer and more importantly a mother, she couldn't help but want to understand more about what was upsetting her.

She wanted to help the younger woman as much as she could. But first, it seemed she had to gain her trust.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The two women now sat at a two-person table on the patio with menus in their hands and a silence between them. It was the type of silence that was not uncomfortable nor was it comfortable. 

It was the type of silence one could enjoy for a long time without feeling awkward, but it wasn't the type of silence that was comfortable.

Y/n didn't know how to describe it in any other way than that.

The dark-haired half-Aussie looked up when she heard Susie clear her throat gently, "Uh, do you know what you want yet? The stuff we got last time was pretty good, so I might take some home for my family." Susie said, continuing to look at the options for food.

"Uh, yeah. I think I know what I want, but I don't know if it's any good. It's the Brioche au Homrd façon Riviera. What about you?" Y/n asked, Susie showed Y/n the menu and pointed at which one she wanted, "Ah, the Croque Monsieur à la Truffe. It sounds delicious. Oh, here comes the waitress." Y/n noted, politely waving over to the waitress.

As the waitress walked over, Susie's phone began to ring, "Shoot, I have to take this. Do you mind ordering for me?" Susie asked, grabbing her phone from her purse.

"Go on, Mrs. Wolff. I'll order for you." Y/n smiled before turning to the waitress.

Susie walked outside the cafe and stood by the car, "Hello?" Susie answered, "Hello, liebling." The gruff voice of her husband greeted sweetly.

"How are things going in Sakhir?" Susie asked, "Things are going great. The car is looking wonderful and I'm really confident this season. How are things going with your new intern?" Toto questioned.

"She's my personal assistant, Toto. And she's wonderful so far. A really beautiful and sweet girl that I think will make a wonderful personal assistant." Susie said. Toto could hear that she wanted to say something, but didn't want to continue and, knowing her, whatever it was was eating at her.

"And what is the problem?" Toto questioned, "I..." Susie hesitated. She wanted to help Y/n because she knew that the woman would end up in a really bad situation. She'd earn €33,965 per year or €2,684.85 per month and, as much as it seemed, it would only pay for her rent. 

It wouldn't be enough for her to fully live off of and Susie wished she could raise the amount she had to pay, but she wasn't legally allowed to.

But it also wasn't any of her business, so she just shook her head, "Nothing. Nothing at all." Susie sighed.

After about a twenty-minute conversation with her husband, Susie hung up and made her way back to the restaurant. "I'm back. Sorry for keeping you." Susie apologised, pulling out the chair and sitting down.

"It's fine, Mrs. Wolff. The food just got here anyway." Y/n said, placing the food Susie ordered in front of her. 

"Okay, so while we eat, I'm going to have you sign some documents that I forgot to have you sign and I'll explain what you'll be doing," Susie said, opening up her purse and pulling out some papers.

Y/n, who had begun cutting her lobster roll in half, looked up at the sound of the paper being placed in front of her. Her hands were a bit messy, so she extended her pinky and used it to drag the documents over to her side where she could see better.

After looking it over, Y/n grabbed her napkin and wiped off her hands before grabbing a pen that Susie offered, "Thanks," Y/n muttered.

"So as my personal assistant you will help me with managing schedules, communicating, taking notes, planning, organizing, preparing, and reminding." Susie explained, picking up a half of her sandwich.

Y/n looked up from the paperwork she was doing and looked at Susie with confusion written all over her freckled face.

 "I know I didn't explain it well. You will basically be helping me schedule meetings, appointments, and events. You'll help me answer phone calls, emails, and any inquiries. You will be taking meeting minutes and transcribing from dictation, planning travel, including flights, accommodations, and transportation, organizing events and conferences, preparing reports, presentations, and briefs, and reminding their manager of important tasks and deadlines." Susie said.

Y/n put her pen down and nodded her head, "I know it sound like a lot to do alone, but you won't be doing git alone. We'll be working together. The only thing that you'll probably be doing alone is running errands for me when I'm busy." Susie reassured, biting into her sandwich.

"Oh, I understand. Doesn't sound too difficult to do." Y/n spoke, picking up her roll and taking a big bite. Y/n hummed in satisfaction as the flavours of her food hit her tongue, "This is really good." The woman muttered.

"I've never had food from here either, but I'm really enjoying this." Susie agreed.

"So, Mrs. Wolff, how long have you been in motorsports?" Y/n asked, "Well, I started out as a driver and then I decided I'd  help little girls achieve their dreams of becoming F1 drivers themselves. What about you? I read that you used to be a really talented driver before quitting." Susie noted.

"I was close to becoming an F1 driver, but I contracted menegitis and I lost my hearing, so I couldn't compete anymore. Also, I couldn't get any sponsors despite being "talented"" Y/n said, putting air quotes around talented.

"I've watched some of your old races and I think you would've made it pretty far in F1." Susie complimented, wiping her hands and mouth.

"Thank you, Mrs. Wolff." Y/n thanked bashfully.

"Please, call me Susie. We'll be working close together from now on." Susie gave Y/n a smile and, once again, the girl couldn't help but notice how beautiful her smile was.

The two had settled into a comfortable silence where the only sounds that were heard was the ambiance of the cafe with the patrons chattering, utensils clinking against plates, and the sound of the kitchen workers making food and drink in the back.

Susie finished her food and wiped her hands and mouth again, leaning against the table and watching Y/n finish up her own food. 

"Say, Y/n," Susie called to grab her attention. Y/n looked up and tilted her head curiously, "If you had the chance, would you become a driver again?"

Y/n froze. Driving again had always been a sensitive topic to her. She wanted to drive again. She wanted to feel the wheel under her hands, a helmet on her head, and the seat that's fitted perfectly for her.

She wanted to be a driver more than she wanted to model, but she knew she could never do it again. The inside of her ears didn't work, which means she couldn't hear any radio messages.

Unless there was a way they could help her hear without using the ear pieces, it was impossible and Y/n told her just that.

"I would if I could. But with me being unable to hear normally, there's just no way. I have to wear headphones that cover my cochlear and hearing aid or else I wouldn't be able to hear anything." Y/n explained.

Susie nodded in understanding, thinking about something before deciding to discuss it with her husband later.

"Okay, well, back to business. The F1 Academy won't be announced until November, but we have a lot of things to do before it opens. Are you ready?" Susie asked.

"I am."

↳ ❝ [Taglist] ¡!❞

@lewisvinga @only-nope @goldenmoonbeam @victorharrington @cheyxfu @xoscar03 @sunnylikesfrogs @laur2608 @evie-119 @alliwantisadonut @exotic-iris13 @thewolffswife

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[hearts-hunger]

evergreen — part five

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Cabin Fever Masterlist | Join my taglist here!

Series Summary: Jake takes you on your first vacation to the cabin the gang stays at every year. When memories of past relationships loom heavy, will this vacation send cracks through the foundation of safety and trust you have in each other?

Chapter Summary: In your love nest, you and Jake heal every hurt.

Pairings: Jake x Reader, Josh x Baby, Sam x Danny | Genre: fluff, emotional h/c | Word Count: 2.5k | Warnings: sexual innuendo, smoking

A/N: The last chapter of this little fic! I'm so thankful for all the love you've showered on Jake and Sparrow, despite how silly they've been. I hope this chapter is everything you're hoping for! ♡

Coming into the tent was a tangle of something shy and gentle and cautious, wet hair plastered to your faces and shared looks of love and longing and apology as you tried to figure out what to say to each other. You both knew you needed to talk, but for a while, there was nothing but the sound of the rain; he helped you out of your boots and jacket, setting them neatly in the corner of the tent. You sat together in the doorway, watching the rain, smoking a few cigarettes from the crumpled pack from his jacket pocket.

“Thank you for my love nest,” you said. You brushed his wet, curly hair back from his face. “You didn't have to do all this, Jake. And in the middle of the night and in the rain, too.”

“I wanted to,” he said. “I wanted you to have a place that was just for you. You’re everything to me, and you deserve something from me that I haven't shared with anyone else.”

You knew you already had something from him that belonged to the two of you alone, and it wasn't your love nest, as wonderful as it was. You knew you had him, had his heart in a way that no one else ever had, just like he had yours.

A bruise showed on his neck, and you reached a cautious hand out to brush your fingers over it.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” you said softly. “All that — it was stupid. And it was my fault.”

He gave a rueful smile. “Takes two to tango, sparrow.”

You let your hand fall to your lap. “Yeah.”

He glanced over at you after a moment. “Besides, you were the one who said you didn't want to fight.”

“Much good it did me,” you said quietly. Though there was an understanding between you now, you still didn't know what to say, how to tell him things you could hardly sort out yourself. “I didn’t want to fight. Or maybe I did. I don't know.”

You put your cigarette out and looked for a place to put it; he held his hand out and put it in the pocket of his jacket. 

“I don't know why I always do this,” you said softly. “I don't know why I keep everything bottled up until it turns into a huge catastrophe.” You felt the sting of tears, remembering how you'd hurt him, how poorly you'd treated the one you loved more than anything, feeling guilty for your inability to give him the apology he deserved.

“And then I do this,” you said, “and make it a pity party for how stupid I am.”

He ran a soothing hand over your back. “Yeah. You do.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Too bad I love you, sparrow.”

“Oh, you're joking, but it’s true,” you said miserably. “I was awful to you. I don't know how you put up with it.”

“I just told you why,” he said gently. He brushed his hands through your hair. “I love you, sparrow. Pity parties and all.”

You turned your tear-streaked face to him and met his eyes, sucking in a choppy breath. “Even like this?”

“Yes, sparrow. Even like this.” He brushed your tears away with a gentle touch. “I thought I told you not to cry, silly girl. You never listen to me.”

You couldn't help a watery laugh, and he gave you a tender smile. 

“I'm sorry I hurt you,” he said. “I didn't mean to, but I understand how that doesn't make it any easier. I'd be doing the same thing as you if it was the other way around.”

You shook your head. “You wish you could cry as much as I do, Kiszka. You don't ever cry.”

“That’s not true.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “I cried when I left.” His smile was wry and rueful. “That's why I left, partly, to be all stoic and manly while I cried like a baby.”

Your heart twisted. “Jake. You could have woken me up.”

“Yeah, I know.” He grazed his knuckles over your cheek. “But you needed to sleep, and I couldn't figure out what to say to you anyway. The way I treated you... that was a mistake, sparrow, and I regret it. All of it — the fighting, the sex, not seeing you as you are, not giving you what you needed. I'm sorry.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, but your tears were starting in earnest again. “Me too, Jake. I’m sorry for all of it too.”

“My girl,” he said softly, a gentle, teasing smile on his face. “There you go again, looking at me with your heart in your eyes, everything spilling over.” 

He pulled you close; you leaned into his chest, your head thumping pitifully against his collarbone. He gave you a tight, comforting squeeze, rocking you gently.

“We’re a mess, aren’t we?” he asked.

You breathed a laugh. “I’d rather be a mess with you than do anything else.”

“Me too.”

“I love you, Jake.”

He kissed your forehead. “I love you too, sparrow. Come lay with me and let me show you how much.”

With soft, healing laughter, you helped each other out of your damp clothes and lay in the nest of pillows and blankets together. You pulled him close and combed your fingers through his hair.

“You’re beautiful,” you said softly. He was, all warm and soft under the golden fairy lights, and the peace that filled his expression now was more lovely to you than anything you'd ever seen.

A sweet blush pinked his cheeks. “Thank you, sparrow. You're beautiful too.”

He cradled your face in his palm and traced the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “I didn’t bring you here to sleep with you. We can if you want, but I understand if you don't. We can do whatever you want.”

You hummed. “How about mad libs?”

He chuckled. “If you want. It's your love nest, sparrow. You pick.”

You drew him close and kissed him, slow and sweet and deep. “I want to be with you, Jake.”

“I want to be with you too, sparrow.”

You spent long minutes relearning each other, his mouth gentle against yours, remembering how to love each other with patience and tender touches. He pulled you snug against him with a hand splayed over your back; you melted into him, safe and loved and mended. He kissed the places he’d left marks before, healing with every touch, until everything was right in the world.

He brushed his fingers over your cheek. “Let me make love to you, sparrow. Let me do it right this time.”

“Okay,” you said softly.

He stayed with you, close and warm and generous with his kisses, and you gave a contented sigh when you were joined. He was slow, gentle, patient; you blossomed under him like a flower opening to the sun, drinking in all of him, surrounded by him and the love he gave you so easily and willingly. 

“With me, sparrow,” he said, holding you close. “Please, love. With me.”

Pleasure, joy, something nameless and old and perfect; you felt them all when he moved inside you, when you heard his sigh and the words of love he spoke to you, when you felt the way he loved you and held you after.

“Sparrow, sparrow,” he said, gentle, breathless. “I love you. You're my heart. You know that, don't you?”

“Yes, Jake,” you said softly. You kissed him. “You’re my heart too.”

—

The rain kept up a steady beat on the roof of your tent, comforting now instead of lonely, and in the afterglow, Jake was full of laughter and bright with smiles you couldn't help but return. You talked about everything and nothing, listening to each other’s voices, coming together in pleasant interludes of hands on skin and tenderness in every place you needed it. 

“Let's never fight again,” you said.

He gave a gentle laugh, drawing your intertwined hands up to study them in the soft light. “Okay. It's not very realistic, honey, but we can try.”

“I mean... not like that again,” you said. His hand was the perfect fit for yours, callused and gentle and strong; the macrame bracelet you'd made for him years ago rested at his wrist. “You’re better at it than I am.”

He didn’t deny it; he couldn't, not when he was so good at it, at knowing when to step back and take a minute and when to talk again when you were both calmer. You relied on him in that, and it wasn't until now that you realized just how heavily you depended on his good judgement and diligence in it. 

It also made you realize just how angry you must have made him earlier to push him over the edge of that judgement. It was that thought that kept you from feeling completely content, and you felt you could apologize to him over and over and never do it enough.

“Jake,” you said softly. You tucked your hands between you. “Can you forgive me?”

He kissed your collarbone. “I already have, sparrow.”

Your throat felt tight. “How?”

“You know how,” he said gently. “Tell me.”

You drew him up to kiss you again. “Because you love me.”

“That’s right. Because I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, meaning it more than anything you'd ever said in your life. “Teach me how to be better to you.”

“I like you the way you are, sparrow.”

You smiled. “I know that too. But you’d like me more if I knew how to tell you what I was feeling.”

He shrugged. “I’ll get better at reading you,” he said. “Teach me how to do that, and I’ll teach you to be a lover, not a fighter.”

You giggled as he kissed your neck. “Can we start right now?”

“Sure. Tell me how you're feeling. But first...” He gently stretched you out beneath him. “I think you're feeling safe, and happy, and.... hm. Maybe excited. A little.”

You laughed. “Correct. See, I told you — you’re better at it than I am.”

He hummed. “Anything else? Maybe I missed something.”

“Well...” You were a little bashful. “Maybe I feel kind of hungry.”

He gave a dramatic groan. “Oh, I knew I missed something.” He smiled and kissed you. “Let’s get you something to eat, then.”

You dressed again and found it was a short walk back to the cabin. In the bathroom mirror, you saw a bright, lovely color in your face and much preferred it to the sickly look you’d had before. You changed into clothes that weren't soaked with rain and ventured back out to the living room; Sam and Danny had gone to bed, but Josh and Baby were asleep on the couch, his head in her lap, her hands lightly tangled in his curls. She woke when you came in, looking up at you with a sleepy smile.

“All better?” she whispered.

You couldn't help a beaming smile. “Yeah. All better.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed. “I thought I was going to have to take you both by the ear and make you fix things.”

You gave a soft laugh. “No need. We’ve decided we’re never fighting again.”

Her smile turned to more of a smirk. “Well, good sex will do that. Let me know if you crack the code, and I’ll try it with this one.”

She gently roused her boyfriend and rewarded him with a kiss. “Bed, Joshy.”

He nodded, half-asleep. “Okay, baby.”

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze as she led him to bed, and you were so glad that everything was right in your family, that you were all happy and had the rest of your vacation to enjoy each other.

“Sparrow, my dearest.”

You turned towards the kitchen to see Jake with a hodgepodge of midnight snacks. 

“Chef Kiszka strikes again,” you teased.

He grinned. “Well, I figured you didn't want to wait for a full-blown Julia Child recipe, but I’ll make something fancier if you want.”

“No, this is perfect.” You stole a pretzel and popped it in your mouth. “Delicious. Better than anything Julia Child could make.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Can we take it back out to our love nest?”

“Uh... yes,” he said, looking around the kitchen. “I might have to throw it all in a Ziploc bag, though, to save it getting rained on.”

You hummed in agreement. “Like a weird trail mix.”

He smiled. “Something like that.”

Weird trail mix in hand, you went back out to your tent and got cosy again. He peeled a tangerine for you, handing you pieces of it and stealing a few for himself, and you found that he’d brought the copy of Rilke’s poems you’d gotten him last Christmas.

“I didn't know you actually liked this,” you said, thumbing through the dog-eared pages, seeing the notes he'd made in the margins. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Of course I liked it. I read it all the time. He’s your favorite.”

Your heart tilted. “He is my favorite.” You handed the book to him. “Will you read me our poem?”

He smiled. “As if you don't have it memorized,” he teased gently.

You shrugged. “It’s not the same as hearing you read it. I love to listen to your voice.”

He looked pleased and a little bashful, taking the book and opening it to the poem he’d used as words of love before you even knew he loved you. His voice was soft and warm as he read, giving every word its meaning as a little piece in a tapestry of affection and beauty.

“Show me the miracle of your hair unbound,” he read. “I want to surround you with your secret self... I want to close every place you've ever been with a kiss, leaving nothing but inner skies.”

You leaned close and let him kiss you and leave you with nothing but inner skies, deep, boundless, full of meaning and wonder. You lay together again, tucked close to each other, and he read to you from your favorite poet.

“How we waste our hours of pain,” he read, his voice rumbling comfortingly in his chest. “How we gaze beyond them into the bitter duration to see if they have an end. Though they are really our winter-enduring foliage, our dark evergreen, one season in our inner year — not only a season in time, but a place and settlement, foundation and soil and home.”

You touched his cheek, feeling the words of the poem ring true for the two of you — in the safety of the love you shared, your hours of pain were something more, something evergreen, a foundation on which you built a stronger love to make a home in together. 

“I love you, Jake,” you said, very softly.

He kissed you and held you close. “My sweet sparrow. I love you too.”

taglist: @viagvf @allieisacrybaby @itsafullmoon @spark-my-nature @anthemheatwave @xserenax-13 @musicspeaks @mountain-in-springtime @stardustsecret @alwaysonthemend @madneedshelp @josh-iamyour-mama @dannythedog @thecoldwind @woyayaofdreams @joshkiszkapunchmeintheface @lostoverseer

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#i hope you love it!!! #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fluff #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #evergreen fic #cabin fever fics #maddie writes stuff!

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 7

Series Masterlist

➪in which bradley finally makes things official between you and him, and the guys finally catch onto what’s been keeping their frat mate so busy lately.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley failed to notice that you had accidentally left your hoodie on his passenger seat when he dropped you off last night. He was going to bring it to you since you didn’t live far away, but he decided to just keep it there until he saw you again. 

Then he got himself ready for bed and saw the mess he made for you in his boxers, and he went right back out to his Jeep and grabbed your hoodie, then spent the next ten minutes holding it up to his nose as he jerked himself off in his bedroom. 

He couldn’t help it. It smelled like movie theater popcorn and you, a combination he didn’t think he would like so much. 

He was happy it was the weekend and he didn’t have class to go to today, because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single thing other than you. 

Why you were such a distraction, he didn’t know, but he honestly didn’t care. Last night was amazing, and he was cursing himself for it ending so soon. You and he talked for a long time after you got each other off in the driver’s seat of his Jeep, and it was only around ten when he drove you back to campus. He should’ve taken you to get milkshakes or something, since you both were quite a big fan of them, instead of reminding himself that he wanted to take things slow with you. 

Bradley hadn’t even told you about Bri yet, like you told him about Luke, but he was sure that you would automatically think that you were a rebound since he and Bri broke up literally only a week ago tomorrow. That wasn’t the case, though. Sure, his initial, drunken thought was to find someone to make Bri jealous with, but that wasn’t what he was doing with you. He liked you, and if she was jealous because of that, then it was just a bonus. 

He knew he liked you a bit too much too soon, so he restricted himself to only texting you all throughout Saturday while he tried to catch up on the assignments he’d been given during the first week back at school. As he read through them, he realized that he had missed the explanation of them as well since he was too preoccupied with thoughts of you, and then he told himself to get a grip. 

He had never been like this before, not with anyone, but he wasn’t mad that you were the first person to get him all flustered and unfocused like he currently is now. 

On Sunday, he caved. 

I miss you, babes. Can I see you today?

He was scribbling out a spelling error, not caring enough about neatness to actually erase the mistake, when you got back to him. 

Y/n: I miss you, flyboy. What did you have in mind?

Bradley laughed at the name, pushing aside his school work in order to give you his full attention. It was nearing four in the afternoon and he hadn’t eaten much today other than half a box of stale crackers, and he has a few things in the fridge and cupboard he needs to get rid of soon, so he decided to invite you over for dinner. 

You hungry? I’m sick of fast food places, let me make you something real and half decent. 

Y/n: I’m always hungry, and beyond curious to find out about your culinary skills. 

I’m very skilled in the kitchen I barely use, believe me. Come over at 5?

Y/n: I believe you. See you soon, flyboy.

Bradley was left smiling stupidly at his phone, then he quickly changed your contact name before trying to get as much studying time in as possible before you got here. 

-

You’d spent most of the weekend in your room, wanting to avoid Sam as much as you could. You were still annoyed with her, and pissed off that she thinks you were looking for a rebound in Bradley. Even though you weren’t, she was the one who told you to go get a rebound anyway. 

Things had been over between you and Luke for months, and you were more than ready to move on. And Bradley seemed like a great person to move on with, if he felt the same way about you. Though, you had a feeling he did since he pretty much told you in his Jeep on Friday night. 

Fuck, you’ve replayed that night over and over in your head too many times to count. It was almost too perfect. Not only did he make you feel unbelievably good, the long talk you had after was something you didn’t know you needed so badly. 

Talking with Bradley was one of the easiest things you had ever done, and listening to him talk about his life and past and possible future was like a breath of fresh air. 

It was almost five when you finally left the confines of your room, and of course Sam was right there. Really, you should’ve expected it since her room is across the hall from yours, and the hall is extremely small, so you were bound to bump into her eventually. “Oh,” she blandly said, a bottle of Pepsi in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. “You’re alive. She’s alive, everyone.”

You watch with narrowed eyes as she turns and gestures to you as if it wasn’t just you and her in the cramped hall. “Really?” You ask in a bored tone, crossing your arms. 

“Really,” she hummed, raising her brows quickly before turning towards her bedroom door. “Have fun with the frat boy.”

You glared at her then at her door when she slammed it in your face. How did she know you were going to see Bradley? Sure, you’ve seen him a lot since that party, maybe a bit too much, but still. That was a lucky guess. 

Not wanting to be in a bad mood when you get to his place, you take a deep breath and raise both your middle fingers at her door, then head towards the front one. You would deal with her later, and preferably clear the air, because she was acting like a child and you were getting fed up with it. 

It was kind of cold out for a summer night, and you failed to check the weather before leaving, so you ended up walking across campus in just a grey tank top and black jeans. You walk up the steps and knock on the door, rubbing your hands over your arms afterwards as you wait. 

You didn’t have to wait for too long as less than ten seconds later the door opened and revealed the guy you were annoyingly into. “Hey,” Bradley greeted with a boyish smile that had you fighting off one of your own. “You don’t have to knock, you know. We rarely ever lock the door.”

“Oh,” you laugh and step inside the house when he moves to the side. “That’s really good to know in case I ever stay the night again.”

Bradley, who looked too good to be true in his blue flannel and dark jeans, rolled his eyes as he pushed the door closed. “You didn’t let me finish. We rarely ever lock it when we’re home,” he added with a laugh, draping his arm over your shoulder as he guided you into the kitchen.

You hum and lean into his side, wrapping your arm around his middle. “That makes it sound a lot better,” you smile up at him. “Thanks for clarifying.”

Bradley shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips as if it came naturally to him. Was this a normal thing now? God, you hoped so. “Come on,” he said against your lips. “It’s almost ready.”

You let him lead you into the kitchen, your body stuck to his. It seemed like neither one of you wanted to let the other one go at the moment, and you didn’t mind it one bit. “What’s almost ready?” 

“The decent food I promised you,” he answered, pulling you with him to the stove. You barely got a second to look at the pan that was on the burner before Bradley picked you up effortlessly and set you down on the counter next to the oven. 

You got a hint of his strength on Friday night when he threw you over his shoulder and carried you across the parking garage, and both times left you a bit breathless. 

Bradley moved his body so his waist was in between your thighs, and his hands were placed on the counter next to your hips. He was still taller than you, even like this, so he had to lean down to ghost his lips over yours. “Do you wanna taste it?” He asked, his words muffled against your mouth. 

Not being able to form proper words, you nod and harshly swallow at the smirk that formed on his lips. He turned away from you and grabbed a fork, piling a bit of the ground beef onto it before bringing it up to your mouth. You hold eye contact as you take the fork between your teeth, a sharp intake following shortly after. “Wow,”

“Good? Bad?” Bradley laughed, setting the fork down and placing his hands on either side of your hips again. “Which one is it?”

“Good, it’s good,” you reply, still chewing as you reach up to wipe at your mouth. “Spicy.”

He hummed, lifting his hand and running his thumb along your bottom lip, collecting what you failed to wipe away. “Is that bad? Do you not like spicy things?”

You shake your head, a laugh escaping afterwards. “I do, I just can’t handle a lot of spice. My taste buds will fall off,”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” Bradley laughed, too, sliding his hand up so it’s caressing the side of your face. You were still smiling when his gaze became a little more intimate, and you thought he was going to kiss you again when he instead surprised you. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

Your eyes widen a bit and you laugh again, a sound of disbelief as your eyes flickered all over his face. “What?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He repeated slower this time, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he looked down at your lips. 

The shock from the sudden question eventually wears off and you place your hands on his shoulders. “Um,” you trail off as you sit up straighter, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “Yeah, I do.” 

Bradley grinned at you, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirm, unable to stop the smile that matched his before he leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to your mouth. 

You gently pull at his hair as he grabs your hips in both hands, deepening the kiss as he tugs you towards the edge of the counter. “You left your hoodie in the Jeep,” he told you, barely pulling away from your lips as he spoke. 

“Oh,” you murmur. “Is it still in there?”

He shook his head, kissing you again after. “It’s in my room,” he mumbled. “I’m keeping it.”

You laugh against his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before pulling away. “It’s my favorite one,” you pouted and he reached up to tug at your bottom lip.

“You can steal one of mine,” he suggested and the offer sounded too tempting to decline, so you just smiled at him and nodded. 

“Okay,” you agreed, kissing him one last time before pushing him away from you. “Check the food, flyboy. Make sure it’s not burning.”

Bradley shook his head with a laugh, stepping away from you and checking on the pan. “It’s not,” he observed, glancing over at you with teasing eyes. “But if it was, it’d be your fault for distracting me.” 

You shrug, gripping the edge of the granite as you lean over. “You gotta learn how to focus on the important tasks if you want to be in the Navy,”

He copied your shrug and looked over at you as he turned the stove off and set the pan onto a different burner. “I don’t know, kissing you seemed very important,” 

You roll your eyes and look around the simple kitchen. “Where are your frat buddies?”

“I don’t know,” Bradley answered with a quiet laugh, transferring the beef into a bowl. “They’re hardly ever here. That’s why it’s so quiet. I don’t know what they do all day long.”

You nod even though he was too focused on the food to see it. “I like it when it’s quiet,” you say, watching as he grabs two plates from the top shelf of a cupboard, the stretch making his flannel lift and expose a bit of his toned waist. “Means I get you all to myself.”

“What, having me all to yourself every day last week wasn’t enough?” He teased, setting the plates down before holding his hand out to you. 

You grab it and hop down, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pressing your nose to his. “Nope,” you mumble. “Friday was too good of a date, it just made me want you more.”

Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. “Good, ‘cause that was kinda the plan,” 

“Oh,” you drag the word out as he pulls you with him to the small table by the sliding door. “You’ve got it all figured out, huh?”

Bradley shrugs, sitting down on a chair and pulling you onto his lap. “I might’ve thought about it once or twice,” he replied and you shake your head, watching as he reached around you and began piling various ingredients onto a tortilla wrap. 

Why did it feel so easy with him? And how was he able to make your whole body blush with a simple sentence like that? 

You drape your arm over his shoulders as you get yourself settled on his lap, and when you turned your head to look at him, you were able to see his multiple scars up close. “Can I ask you something?” You sounded a bit hesitant, and Bradley quickly looked up at you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he answered, wrapping one arm around your middle. “Did I already mess this up?”

“No,” you laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth to further prove your words. “I just…how did you get these scars?” You quietly asked, tracing your fingers along the raised skin on his face and neck. 

Bradley’s shoulders dropped in what you think is relief before he leaned back against the chair. “You finally noticed them, huh?”

Shaking your head, you shift on his lap so you could make your own wrap, then you lean against him again. “I noticed them the first night I met you, I just didn’t want to ask you something that might make you uncomfortable,” 

“No, it’s fine,” he gave you a toothless smile, running his fingers along the waistline of your jeans. “It’s stupid, really. I got really drunk at a party last year and I started talking out of my ass to Eli and Wes, the guys I live with. It got heated and I don’t even remember why or what I said, but it was apparently something pretty bad since Eli ended up shoving me into a cabinet and I went right through the glass door of it.”

Your eyes widen and you put your wrap down after only taking one bite. “Oh, my God,” you gasped, sliding your hand up and gently massaging the back of his neck. “Jesus, Bradley. And you’re still friends with them? You still live with them?”

“Still got the cabinet, too,” he nodded across the kitchen and towards the fridge. A tall, wooden cabinet was right next to it, and you questioned how you failed to notice it there until he pointed it out. The door was missing the glass, and the wood around it was chipped, indicating that it was broken pretty forcefully. “We use it as a place to put the recycle bin now.”

You turn back to him with a frown. “Bradley..”

His smile faded, though you knew it was a forced one anyway. “I know. They thought it was funny at the time, and I woke up the next morning with glass still in my face and shoulder. I looked pretty fucking scary walking across the street to the hospital with blood all over me,” 

You shake your head and bury your face against the side of his neck. “Fuck,”

Bradley huffed out a laugh, running his hand up and down your back. “I know,” he trailed off. “I had to lie to the doctor and say that I fell into it instead of telling him that my friend pushed me then left me on my bed afterwards.”

Groaning you press a chaste kiss to the healed scar on his throat before lifting your head. “Bradley. I hate your frat buddies,”  

He hummed in agreement, kissing your temple and keeping his lips there after. “I’m not very fond of them lately, either,” 

After you begged him to let you clean up since he cooked, Bradley guided you towards the living room. Flashbacks of your third date, if he counted it as a date like you do, passed through your head, and when you looked over at the far end of the couch, you could see the blanket you and he shared when you fell asleep. 

A smile takes over your lips as you fall onto the same spot you were in the last time you were here, and Bradley sits next to you. “Did you like it? Did my culinary skills impress you?”

“You know what, they did,” you answered with a laugh, leaning into his side when he lifted his arm. “You’re right, real food tastes so much better.”

Bradley laughed and then your phone went off. You pulled it from your pocket, leaning your head on his chest as you read the new text you had gotten. 

Luke: Are you seriously done with us?? With me? Come on, brat, we’re good together. 

Your brows furrowed and you let out a quiet huff. Bradley shifted and you knew he read it, too, when he asked, “Is that your ex?” in a deep grunt, unknowingly making you smile at the protectiveness in his voice. 

“Yep,” you sigh, not knowing what to say that would get Luke to back off. 

“Block him,” Bradley suggested and your eyes widened a bit. 

“What? You think I should block him?” You question, cuddling closer to his side as he nodded. 

“I don’t like the way he calls you brat, it’s condescending,” 

“Condescending?” You repeat with a laugh before scrolling through your long thread with your ex. “You really think I should block him? You think he’ll get the hint that way?”

Bradley hummed, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Block him, baby,” 

You bite back a moan and click on the red button without thinking twice. “There,” you whisper, nudging his chin with the top of your head. “He’s blocked.”

You swipe out of the thread and were about to turn your phone off when Bradley stopped you. “Can I see it for a second?” 

“My phone? Why? You think I have more secret exes I should block?” You tease and hand him your phone, watching as he laughed and shook his head. 

“No, I just wanted to change something,” he mumbled, clicking on his own contact. “Fratley, huh?”

You laugh and nod. “It’s fitting,” 

“I like it,” he rasped, editing the contact name before handing your phone back to you. “There.”

You look at the two new hearts he added beside his name and smile, clicking on the picture icon before crawling onto his lap. “Okay, picture time,” you state, goosebumps forming on your skin as he runs his hands up and down your thighs. 

With your phone in one hand, you use your other to purse his lips together, his cheeks scrunching up cutely as you did so. You quickly take the photo and stare at it for a few seconds, a humorous smile painted on your lips. “Good?” He questioned with a laugh and you nod, turning your phone and showing him the picture. “Jesus.”

You laugh loudly, dropping your phone onto the cushion next to you. “You’re so cute,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss along the side of his face. “My turn.”

You hold your hand out to him and he laughs, unlocking his phone and placing it on your palm. “Have at it,” he said and leaned back on the couch as you opened his contacts. 

“Oh, look at that,” you trail off. “You already changed my name.” 

Bradley nodded smugly, taking his phone from you again and pulling you down against his chest. You laughed and braced your hands on his shoulders and smiled when he lifted his hand and took a picture of the two of you, his lips pressed to your cheek. You watched as he set it as your contact picture, cropping most of himself out and only leaving half his face in it. 

“Now that that’s settled,” he whispered, kissing you before you could get another word out and wrapping his arms around you. 

-

After kissing for what felt like hours, you had to go back to your place since you had a test you needed to study for that was for your morning class tomorrow. 

Bradley was reluctant to let go of you once you moved off the couch and pulled him into a hug by the front door. He pressed too many kisses to count all over your face before letting you leave with a pretty smile on your lips.

Then he was alone and already thinking about you. 

He turned around and headed up to his room, shrugging off his flannel that smelled like your perfume and tossing it onto his desk chair next to your hoodie. He kicked the door closed and fell onto his bed, his notebook opened to a random page as he read over his terrible handwriting. 

Not even five minutes passed before his bedroom door swung open and Bradley turned just as Eli and Wes stumbled their way into his room with beer bottles in their hands. “Hey, Bradshaw!” Wes greeted in a slurred voice, his arm draped around Eli’s shoulder as they fell onto the end of his bed. “Shit, this is more comfortable than mine. Can we switch beds?”

Bradley raised a brow and sat up against the headboard. “No,” he answered, knowing Westley was being serious with that question. “Do you guys need something?”

Eli lifted his head and narrowed his eyes, “What? We have to need something to be able to hang out with you? That’s low, bro,”

Bradley shook his head and looked back down at his notebook just as his phone went off from its place next to him. He put the book down and reached for the phone, but Eli was quicker and apparently wanted to be a pain in the ass as he grabbed it before Bradley could. 

“Ooh, Y/n, huh?” He laughed as he held Bradley’s phone about three inches away from his face. “Is this what’s been keeping you so preoccupied nowadays, Bradshaw?” 

“Give me my phone,” Bradley grunted, reaching for it. 

Eli held it away from him with a smirk. “Aww, is she your girlfriend now? You’re over Bri?”

“That was quick,” Wes chimed in, lifting his body up so he could look at Bradley’s phone as well. 

“Guys, I’m serious,” Bradley muttered, grabbing the device before Eli could lock him out of it with all the failed password attempts. There was no way he was telling these two fucking idiots that he had made it official with you. They were drunk off their asses and already didn’t take anything he did seriously. There was no way he’d be able to convince them that he’s being genuine with you. 

“Does she know she’s just a bet yet?” Eli asked as he took a swig from the bottle. 

Bradley was just about to read your text, but Eli’s question had his face heating up and his expression dropping. “No,” he answered instantly. “And she’s not going to know, because she’s not a bet.”

Eli rolls his eyes and swirls the beer around in the bottle. “Yeah, yeah, you said that last time, but look at it from our perspective, dude,” he started, leaning towards Bradley, the strong booze radiating off him. “Bri breaks up with you, you throw a party and come up with this sick, cruel idea to help get her back, decide to use Y/n for that idea, and then you spend all of last week with her. And now she’s your girlfriend? Come on, Bradshaw, you haven’t even tried to hide your true intentions.”

Bradley narrowed his eyes and set his phone aside. “What are my true intentions?”

“You’re hoping to make Bri jealous so she’ll come back to you,” Eli answered, shrugging afterwards as he finished off his beer. “Then you’ll dump Y/n, and we’ll pay you a thousand each.”

“I’m not going to dump Y/n-”

“So if Bri were to come up to you sometime within the next few weeks and beg you to take her back, you wouldn’t?” Wes asked, sipping the last of his own beer. 

Bradley wanted nothing more than to kick these two drunk guys out of his room. He had nothing to say or prove to them, and he wished they would just drop it. “No, I wouldn’t take her back,” he muttered, bringing his knees to his chest as he rubbed at his eyes. “I like Y/n.”

“More than Bri?” Wes asked and Bradley glared at him, making the blond raise his hands in defense. “Hey, you’re the one who made a bet to win her back.”

“Y/n’s not a bet-”

“Think of it as a bargain, then,” Eli cut him off, suddenly sounding more sober than how he sounded when he first came in. “Come on, Brad, you’ve come this far. See how it plays out. You keep doing whatever it is you’re doing with Y/n, and if she ends up falling for you, then you get two grand.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Bradley had no idea why he was still even entertaining them at this point.

“Then we’ll know that you really do suck at dating,” Eli laughed. “Just go with it, bro. It could be fun for all of us. And she’ll never know.”

Bradley didn’t say anything else, waiting until Eli and Wes got bored of the silence and left. When they were gone, he finally allowed himself to read the text you sent almost twenty minutes ago. 

Babes🩷: I forgot to steal one of your hoodies. Can you bring me that flannel you were wearing tomorrow? For no particular reason at all.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bets and bargains au #bets and bargains #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #rooster x you #top gun rooster #top gun au #top gun maverick #tgm fic #tgm #tgm fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #tgm cast #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster x y/n

[rabbit-or-rib]

Hello! Well, I was wondering if you could do a Toby fanfic with a male reader?

The reader and Toby were friends before Toby started homeschooling, then years later they meet again, something kind of fluffy and angsty?

Well, in any case, I thank you, your writing is really good to read, I hope you are having a great day/night!! 🩷

—💧

ofc !!!!! this is so sweet, let me know if you want me to change or add anything :) it also ended up more angsty than i meant it to, but thank you soso much it makes me so happy you like my writing !! <33

You're the loss of my life.

🪓 Toby Rogers x m!childhood friend reader reuniting :)

He was crossing through a nature park on the way to stop off at the store, and there you were sitting on a bench and watching your pet play around in the grass, smiling. It took him a second to place how he remembered you, but he knew the curve of your smile like the back of his hand. He had so many feelings so fast- he missed you, he wanted to call out for you, to catch up with you, hear everything about your life since school- and they were all put to a halt by the lump in his throat. He quickly looked around, trying to make sure there wasn't anyone near him that'd see him potentially break down in the middle of the path, and when he looked back, you were staring at him wide eyed. He was so, so scared that you were scared of him.

"Toby?"

Your voice called out to him, it had obviously dropped since the last time you two had talked and it sent waves of butterflies over him. He nervously smiled, and when you realized you were right and smiled brightly back, it turned into you both laughing, which turned into him excitedly running over to you. You stood up to greet him, but you clearly weren't expecting the amount of energy toby had for you- his tight hug almost knocked the both of you to the ground. You wrapped your arms around him as best you could with his handle on you, and laughed at his excitement and at just how happy you were to see him- you had so many questions and you were so worried, but above everything you were just happy to see your best friend again.

His grip loosened, and without thinking his hands settled on your lower back, trying to keep you as close as possible. You could feel his hands twitching as you excitedly asked him what he'd been up to, his eyes suddenly avoiding your gaze as he gave you a vague "just,,,yyknow stu-stuff and things- rreal busy, you?" he flashed you lopsided smile, but he couldn't push away all of his thoughts. What would you think of him if he told you? If you found out, saw him on the news, what would you even say? Can you tell? Is he creeping you out right now? Is he-

You interrupted his train of thought with resting your hands on his forearms, his eyes immediately shooting to watch your movements as you spoke, "not too much,, i missed you though. have you been okay, Tobes? i was worried about you" you laughed nervously at that last bit, but the nickname struck a cord with him as the lump in his throat made itself clearer now. He was fighting down tears as he remembered all the times he'd come over, the time spent together being stupid and passing notes in class, everything the two of you did that was taken from him because there was so much cruelty in his life. His neck cracked to the side in an anxious tic, he tried to write it off as he gave you what was meant to be a genuine smile, but came off as more so pleading as he shakily said, "i mmissed you too."

Your brows furrowed slightly in concern, but your pet jumped up in between the two of you before you were able to ask any questions. Toby crouched down to pet them, but still kept his eyes on you. They pawed at the leash you held in your hand, trying to get you to understand they were ready to go home, no matter how much you weren't. You flashed Toby a look of apology and muttered a quiet "It looks like they're ready to go," as you clipped the leash to their collar; the both of you standing back up you looked at each other with a sense of longing. Neither of you understood what the other had gone through since the last time you'd seen each other, and it didn’t feel fair. None of this felt fair. But you both knew that, that there was too much between you now to patch up. He wanted to speak, he wanted to say something- tell you everything that you had meant to him back then, how much you still did. You had been his safe haven before he left, and he wanted nothing more than to have experienced a normal life in that moment. Looking at you felt like he was looking at everything he could have had, and he could hardly take it. He swallowed thickly before he gave you his best smile that he could muster and said a quiet thank you, that it was good seeing you, and squeezed your hand before the two of you walked your separate ways. It didn’t feel right, it wasn’t right. Talking to you, touching you, it brought color back to his face in such an authentic way he hadn’t been able to properly replicate in so long. He trudged his way along the rest of his path, convincing himself it wouldn’t be fair to drag you into what his life is. You didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to deal with him- and he didn’t think he’d ever get over that loss.

#💧 #rabbit writings #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers x reader

[heartateasee]

“Chapter Four”

Word Count: 6.9k

(Chapter four to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)

●・○・●・○・●

Giving myself one more small spray of hair spray, I run my fingers through my hair, and tease it a little bit before sucking in a deep breath. Tonight, I was going on a date. It would be my first date since moving back home, and I don’t remember the last time I was nervous for anything other than a gig. I spritz myself with a bit of perfume as I check my phone on my vanity, and I see my Uber is only a few minutes away.

Hudson, my date, had offered to come and pick me up when we were texting earlier today, but I declined. I’m someone who definitely doesn’t feel comfortable with someone knowing where I live on the first date, so I either drive myself, or Uber - if I know that drinking is going to be involved.

I grab my purse from my nightstand and head towards my door, locking up my house before heading into the driveway to get into my car.

Hudson and I met late last week when I was in the local music store when I realized that the original microphone I had in my home studio wasn’t going to cut it. The sound wasn’t clear at all, and I knew that I needed something that was going to record way better than what I had. As I was looking over my different options, I could see that Hudson was also looking at some - two different microphones in his hands.

“I should probably know all this shit given I’ve been in studios so much, but I don’t,” I laughed softly as I looked over at him. “Do you have any suggestions as to what works best in a home studio?”

I figured he would have some insight since he really seemed to be contemplating the two mics he had in his hands. Once he looked over at me, that’s when I noticed just how attractive he was, and then he sent me a charming smile as he moved a bit closer to me.

He walked me through which microphone he thought would suit best for what I needed and why. After I made my decision, we ended up talking a little bit more, and he was interested in what I was doing music wise. He didn’t know who I was, which is something that never bothers me, but it was kind of nice to talk about my newest album without anyone having any idea about what my previous stuff has sounded like.

After that we ended up exchanging numbers since we felt we clicked pretty well, and we’ve been texting everyday ever since. It wasn’t until yesterday that he asked me about grabbing drinks together tonight at a bar he frequents, and I agreed. He seemed really genuine, and nothing thus far had given me any red flags. I had told Kailey at the club a couple of weeks ago that I wasn’t interested in hooking up. I wanted to try and find a relationship, and I made those expectations clear to Hudson a couple days into us texting.

He was on the same page as me which ended up being a big relief.

Speaking of the club a couple of weeks ago, I haven’t seen Harry or Rylan since. I also haven’t heard from Harry at all. No random phone calls, or angry text messages. It was refreshing, and I honestly found myself forgetting that we were even residing in the same area again most of the time.

I hope that Rylan leaves it be from now on, and she doesn’t try to force us to hang out anymore. I don’t want anything to do with Harry. He clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me. It’s best if we just leave things like they were - him ignoring that I existed in his life at one point, and me just having to shove all my memories of him to the back of my mind.

My Uber pulls up to the bar, and I thank the driver before collecting myself and getting out of the car. I walk in, and I see that it’s a bit of a dive bar, but that doesn’t bother me. Local dive bars are sometimes the best places you can find. 

I look around, and I finally spot Hudson at a two top table towards the back of the main area of the bar. Once I reach him, I can understand why he chose this table. It’s a bit more quiet back here, and we won’t have to yell to hear each other over the music or the other patrons.

“Hi,” I smile as I approach him, and he quickly stands up - wrapping his arms around me in a hug.

“Hey,” he runs his hand over my back before we separate, and he pulls my stool back a bit from the table so I can properly sit down. “I haven’t ordered yet. Was waiting to see what you’d like.”

“Oh, thank you,” I say while sitting down, running my hands over my denim thighs. “I’ll just take a Coors Light, please.”

“Okay, sure. Do you want a shot as well?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I nod. “Anything is fine. I’m not picky.”

Hudson reaches forward to give my hip a soft squeeze before he starts off towards the bar, and I let out a deep breath as the sensation it causes in my stomach. Seeing him again, I’m reminded of just how insanely attractive he is. I keep my eyes on him for a moment before I turn to sit properly at the table. I get my phone out quickly to let Kailey know that I’ve arrived safely.

She made me share my location with her earlier tonight just to be safe, and honestly, I’m glad she did that. It was something that I hadn’t even thought of, but now we both have each other's locations, just in case.

I pull up my email on my phone as I wait, and answer an email from Lys regarding the status of my first recording to submit to the label. I respond back to let her know that I was having an equipment issue, my mic specifically, but that I would be able to start recording as soon as possible.

I’m quick to lock my phone back up as Hudson comes back over, and I smile up at him. “Thank you so much.”

I see he has a beer for each of us, passing me mine before setting a shot before the both of us as well. “I got gold tequila, I hope that’s okay.”

“Totally fine,” I nod. “Like I said, I’m not picky.”

We each lift our shot glasses and tap them against each other before Hudson speaks. “To our first date.”

“To our first date,” I repeat with a nod before we down the shots - setting the glasses back down on the table afterwards.

After a moment we start to engage in a true conversation, and it so happens to be one about music.

“So, you’re working on your new album, right?” Hudson asks, to which I nod. “Who would you say are your heaviest influences so far?”

I hum softly as I take a sip of my beer - contemplating my answer. “A mix between older artists and modern artists. I really enjoy Joan Jett, Blondie, Heart, Annie Lennox, Fleetwood Mac and Billy Idol from the past. If we’re talking more modern, Lizzy McAlpine is great, No Doubt, and I also like Ethel Cain. Although, Ethel writes a bit darker than me.”

Hudson nods in response. “I’ve heard of Blondie, Fleetwood Mac and Joan Jett, but I don’t think I’ve heard of any of the others. Maybe if I heard a song or two by them then I’d know.”

Narrowing my eyebrows slightly, I’m a bit shocked that he hasn’t heard of at least Billy Idol or No Doubt the most, but I let it slide. It’s always something I can introduce him to later on.

“Who do you like to listen to?” I ask curiously, raising my eyebrows softly.

“To be honest, I listen to a lot of music, but most of the time I don’t know who I’m listening to,” he shrugs. “I’ll usually just turn on some type of mix playlist that’s already curated for me, and just play that in the background while I’m working or doing chores around the house.”

I purse my lips to the side, not really understanding his take on music, but I leave it be. Maybe we don’t have as much in common as far as music goes - at least not in the way that I was expecting.

“That’s a good way to find new music, I guess,” I smile as I tap my fingertips on the top of the table nervously. I search my brain a bit to figure out what to change the subject to. “I don’t think I’ve asked, but have you always lived in LA?”

Hudson shakes his head, setting his beer back down on the table. “No, I’m originally from Wyoming. I moved here a couple of years ago to pursue art full time. Both making it, and dealing it.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you made your own as well! What’s your go to medium?”

“I like charcoal mostly, but it’s pretty messy,” he chuckles. “I can show you a couple of pieces, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please,” I say, leaning over the table a little bit as he pulls his phone out and begins to scroll through his camera roll.

“This is my most recent,” he states, turning his phone to face me better, and I swallow harshly.

The art in front of me…is not good.

I can tell where his vision is, but it’s definitely not executed in the right way. I know art is subjective, however, I can’t make heads or tails of why he’d choose this way to interpret his vision.

“Oh,” I lick over my bottom lip. “It’s very unique. I don’t think I've ever seen art quite like this.”

Not exactly a lie.

“Thanks, Marlowe,” he smiles, showing me a couple of other pieces before tucking his phone away. “I know you talked about getting art for your home recently, so if you ever want me to make you something, just let me know.

Yeah, that’s not happening.

“Sure! I don’t have too much space on my walls anymore, but if I end up rearranging some stuff, I’ll let you know.”

●・○・●・○・●

Hudson and I have been at the bar for a couple of hours, and honestly, this date wasn’t going at all like I expected. He’s nice enough, that’s for sure, but I’m definitely not feeling a spark like I was hoping based off of our text conversations. At first I thought maybe it was nerves between the two of us, but I feel like if that was the case, they would have faded by now.

“I’m going to go and grab another beer. Do you want one?” I ask as I push myself off my stool.

“Yeah, sure. I’m just going to pop into the restroom real quick.”

I nod at him before heading towards the bar, ordering us another round of beers - putting them on Hudson’s tab as he’s instructed me to do all night. Carefully carrying them back to the table, I sit back down on my stool, my back to the main bar as I push his beer over to his side.

Hudson returns only a few moments later, and we start up another round of small talk which only seems to be dwindling more and more with each conversation we try to engage in.

Soon I hear a loud commotion behind me, the sound of glasses clashing and a stool scraping the ground, and I look over my shoulder to see Harry towering over a shorter guy by the bar.

“Fuck,” I whisper, feeling conflicted on what to do at the moment.

I watch as Harry pulls his long hair back into a bun, and he walks forward so his chest is pressed against the man’s. The last thing I want is for Harry to get in some sort of legal trouble that could come back to bite him for however many years.

“This guy again,” I hear Hudson mumble, and I look over to him with narrowed brows. “The one with the long hair - he’s always fighting. He’s close with one of the main bartenders, and that’s the only reason why they let him back in. He’s also drunk off of his ass most of the time, so I think they pity him. Can’t hardly pay his tab half of the time unless his little blonde girlfriend is with him.”

An unfamiliar feeling lingers in my stomach as I listen to Hudson’s words, and I’m already looking back to Harry.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, quickly getting up, and I feel Hudson’s hand on my arm.

“You’re not going over there, are you?”

“I…I know him,” I tell him, holding his eyes for a moment before I pull away and start making my way over to the bar.

Before I can get there, I see the guy pop Harry in the mouth with his fist two quick times, and I pick up my speed - pushing through the crowd that managed to gather around them. Harry lands another fist to his brow, and I can see now that his mouth is bloody, and his brow is split.

“Harry!” I call out once I make my way past the people, and he looks over to me - his expression showing one of surprise at my presence.

I knew it was highly foolish of me, but I just want this to stop, so I shove my way between the two men so I can press my hands against Harry’s chest. Walking forward, I attempt to push him away from the other guy. “Come on, don’t do this.”

Harry continues to stare at me, his gaze hardened, but I can see something else brewing behind his eyes.

I open my mouth to speak again, but I’m quickly yanked away from him by my shoulders - being flung into a nearby table. Gasping, I grip to the surface to stabilize myself, and I realize it was the guy fighting Harry that shoved me away. When I look back at Harry, I see nothing but anger all over his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Harry’s voice bellows before he lifts his fist - gripping to the front of the guy’s shirt as he clashes his knuckles against any part of his face that he can connect with. 

“Harry!” I yell out, shaking my head. “Harry, stop!”

Soon two security guards come over, and they separate the two of them before shoving Harry towards the front door, and the other guy towards the back door.

“Both of you get the hell out!”

Afraid of what Harry could do being alone like this, I make my way back to my table to let Hudson know that I need to leave, but I see he’s already left - the receipt for the tab on the table to show that it’s paid. I flip it over and I see that he’s scribbled on there that he had a nice time tonight, but needed to head out.

Rolling my eyes, I know that means we won’t be seeing each other again, and that’s honestly fine with me. I grab my purse before heading towards the front and exiting. I look both ways on the street before I see Harry leaning up against the brick building with a cigarette dangling from his fingers on his bloodied hand, and I slowly walk forward to him.

He looks up from his feet, and I wince when I really take in the damage the guy had done to his face.

Harry pushes himself off the wall to close the gap between us - eyes scanning over me as if he’s checking me for injuries too.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and I think it may be the softest I’ve heard his voice be since being back.

“I’m fine, I’m not worried about me,” I shake my head, going to lift my hand to inspect his face further, but I drop it back down. “You should really get your face cleaned as soon as possible. That gash on your eyebrow looks bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes as he takes another drag of his cigarette, swaying a bit. “You shouldn’t have fucking gotten in between us like that, Marlowe. That was stupid.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to look out for you,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest as I shake my head. “I might not like you, but I don’t want to see you get in trouble.”

“Don’t act like you actually fucking care,” he scoffs, flicking the ash from the burning stick. “Just another one of your self-righteous acts.”

I stare blankly at Harry as he looks around the street a bit before focusing back on me.

“Fuck you, Harry,” I whisper before turning around, walking away as I pull my phone out of my purse to order myself an Uber home.

As I stand there, I go to move my arm to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear to get it out of my face, and I wince at the dull pain that throbs in my upper part of it. When I ran into the table, I guess my biggest point of impact was my bicep without me realizing.

I punch my address in, and Uber connects me with a driver as I patiently start to wait.

“Are…are you sure you’re okay?” Harry’s voice makes me jump, and I look over to see him in closer proximity than before. “You looked in pain for a second there.”

“I’m fine,” I look out to the road in front of us. “My arm is just a little sore.”

We stand in silence as cars pass by us, and I can see Harry drop his cigarette onto the sidewalk after a minute or so - snuffing it out with the toe of his boot.

“How are you getting home?” I ask, and when I look back to him, I see his eyes look even more glazed over.

My guess is that he must have ripped a few shots before getting into that fight, and the alcohol is catching up to him even more now that his adrenaline is wearing off. He takes another step towards me, and he sways again, but this time harder, and I’m quick to catch his falling body.

“Shit,” I hiss as I tuck my arm without any pain underneath one of his to keep him up straight - pulling him into my side. “Do you need me to add a stop for you to my Uber? Do you need me to get you home?”

Harry’s eyes run over my face drunkenly, and he lazily licks his lips. “I’ll be fine.”

I shake my head in response. “No, you won’t. You can’t even stand up straight, Harry. Tell me your address, and I’ll add it to my ride.”

Before Harry can say anything else, my phone vibrates to indicate my Uber is here, and I look over to see the car my app had paired me with.

“God, I’m going to regret this,” I whisper to myself as I shuffle us both into the backseat - greeting the driver.

I’m thankful it’s a bit dark in here, so I’m sure he can’t see the damage done to Harry’s face, or just how fucked up he is. I’m also praying that Harry doesn’t end up getting sick on the drive home.

Bringing him back to my house seems like the only option at this point considering he won’t tell me where he lives, and I know I couldn’t leave him alone outside of that bar. He’s so drunk that I don’t think he’d even find his own way home, and as angry as he makes me, he doesn’t deserve that. Who knows what could happen if he ends up passed out on the street somewhere.

As we’re driving down the road, Harry’s body moves slightly with each turn, and I scoot over in my seat a bit to press my body against his to keep him upright. He looks down to me, and I see his throat expand as he swallows before slowly lifting up his hand.

“You sure it’s okay?” He slurs, ghosting his fingertips over my upper arm before dropping his hand back into his lap.

“I’m fine, promise,” I assure him, feeling the emotional whiplash that he always seems to provide - having it smack into me at full force.

It doesn’t take long for the Uber to get us to my house, and I once again thank the driver before getting out, and then carefully pulling Harry out as well. I keep an arm securely around him while fishing through my purse for my keys as we walk onto my porch. Once I find them, I unlock the door, and I lead the two of us inside - blindly throwing my hand out to the side to reach the switch to turn on the lights.

“Here, lean against the wall for a second,” I instruct him as I shut the door and lock it up before I hang my purse on the hook - tossing my keys onto the small table in my entryway.

Once I turn back to Harry, I see him looking around, and I shrug off my jacket. I drape it onto one of the arms of the coat rack in the corner before I pull him into my side again. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Harry grumbles, and I know he wants to fight me on this, but I don’t think he has the energy, or the proper thought process, to do so right now.

I get him into my guest bathroom - coaxing him to sit down on the closed toilet seat before I dig underneath my sink for my first aid kit. Once I find it, I place it on the counter and open it up, immediately going to the alcohol wipes in there so I could clean his cuts up. I made a mental note to remember to grab rubbing alcohol next time I was at the store - just to have under the sink at all times.

Moving to stand in front of Harry, I tuck one of my hands underneath his chin to cradle it in my palm so I can properly look at him in the light. I lift the wipe up to his brow, and I speak before I have it make contact with his skin.

“This is going to burn a little,” I mumble before starting to rub it against the wound.

Harry just lets out a small grunt, his body tensing for a moment before he relaxes. I can feel his eyes wandering all over my face as I tend to the gash thoroughly, and once I get it cleaned up, I’m grateful to see that it’s definitely not deep enough to need stitches. 

“Why were you even trying to fight that guy anyway?” I ask as I head back over to the kit for another alcohol wipe so I can clean the blood that had gathered in the corners of his mouth.

“He’s an asshole,” Harry reaches up to pull his hair out of the bun - letting his long curls fall against his shoulders.

“Oh, like you?”

The words escape me before I can filter myself, and I stare down at the kit for a bit longer until I look back over to Harry. His eyes hold mine, but he doesn’t say anything as I walk back over to begin wiping at his mouth.

I clear my throat after a moment - wanting to just get back to taking care of him. “I have some mouthwash under the sink. It’s usually for canker sores, but I think it might help with where your teeth have cut into your lips. You should really rinse with it.”

Harry just hums in response, and I pull away once again to get a good look at him. “You’re all set.”

As I go to put the first aid kit away, I pull out the mouthwash and place it on top of the counter. Harry stands and lazily grabs the bottle, swaying a bit as he looks down at it.

“Go ahead and rinse. I’m going to get the guest room situated for you,” I tell him before exiting the bathroom and heading down the hall.

I go ahead and pull the covers back on the bed so that’s one less thing he’ll have to do, and I dig through the nightstand drawer for an extra phone charger in case he needs it. Kailey had left one here as a spare the couple times she’s stayed over.

As I go to exit the room to grab him some water and some Tylenol, I collide with Harry in the doorway. “Make yourself comfortable, okay? I’ll be right back.”

I move around him and make my way into the kitchen where I quickly fill a glass with ice water, and I grab two Tylenol from the cabinet above the sink. Once I get back into the bedroom, I see that Harry’s jeans and jacket are draped over the chair in the corner, and I swallow harshly when I realize he’s laying underneath the covers in just his boxers and shirt.

“Here,” I place the glass down with the pills next to it, and I see his phone is sitting there, but the screen doesn’t light up when my hand moves over it. “I think your phone might be dead. I got a charger for you. Do you want me to plug it in?”

Harry shakes his head, sitting up to take the water and the pills. He gulps the Tylenol down quickly, and drinks about half the glass of water before setting it back down. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“What about Rylan? She’s not going to get worried if you don’t answer?”

“Sometimes I let my phone die so I can be alone, and I don’t have her pestering me,” he slurs before laying back down, pulling the covers up to his chin.

I frown at his answer, but I don’t argue with him. “Alright, well…I’m just down the hall if you need anything. I’ll take you home in the morning, okay?”

Harry’s eyes shut, and that’s when I know I’m not going to get any more responses from him tonight. I turn on my heel and head back into the hallway that leads into my room. Once I’m inside, I shut the door behind me, and I strip myself of my clothes, and then wipe my makeup off while sitting at my vanity. After changing into some PJs, I collapse into my bed.

Staring at the ceiling, I wonder if Harry’s going to be angry when he wakes up tomorrow and realizes where he is. Is he going to mouth off at me? Is he going to try to say I pity him, or that I’m being self-righteous again by bringing him here?

I suck in a deep breath as I tell myself I can’t worry about that right now. That’s a problem for the morning - not tonight.

Turning onto my side, I plug my phone in and turn on my lamp before cuddling underneath my covers, and falling into a deep sleep.

●・○・●・○・●

Stirring in my bed, I blink my eyes open to see the sun just barely peeking through my curtains. I glance over to my nightstand to see that it’s a little past ten, and I groan. It’s been a while since I’ve slept in this late, but I’m sure the events of last night had me feeling a bit more exhausted.

I jolt up in bed when the memories hit me, and I stare blankly at my wall.

Harry is here. He’s in my house.

I take a minute to gather myself before I slip out of bed, and I rummage through my dresser to pull a hoodie on over my tank top that I wore to sleep. Grabbing my phone, I head out of my room, and I quietly head down the hall towards the guest room. I crack the door open, trying to be as quiet as possible, and I see Harry sprawled out in the middle of the bed.

Silently making my way into the room, I grab the glass I had given him last night, and I’m happy to see that it’s empty. I know it’s not a lot in comparison to what he drank alcohol-wise, but at least I know he had a full glass of water in his system. I head downstairs to quickly refill the glass, and grab two more Tylenol, before heading back upstairs.

I sit the items down on the nightstand, and I bite down on my bottom lip as I brush some of the hair out of his face to get a better look at his injuries from last night. He has a decent bruise surrounding the gash above his eyebrow, but thankfully his mouth seems to look okay.

Not wanting to linger too long and risk the chance of him waking up to me staring, I exit the room and head back down to the kitchen to begin making us some breakfast.

I rack my brain a bit as I try to remember exactly what he likes for breakfast food, and I’m almost certain that he always liked my mom’s homemade pancakes. Rummaging through my pantry and cabinets, I realize I have everything I need to make them, including syrup, so I get to work - starting to mix everything into one of my large mixing bowls.

I begin to play some music quietly on my phone as the first pancakes begin to cook in the pan, and I walk over to press the start button on my coffee maker. 

While making my way through the pancakes, I purse my lips to the side as I realize it’s been so long since I’ve cooked for someone other than myself. I’m not the biggest fan of leftovers, so I’m usually sticking straight to a recipe that will only produce one serving - that way I’m not wasting any food.

“This has to be some type of joke,” I jump at the sound of a low voice rumbling in my kitchen, and I look over my shoulder to see Harry standing by the island in the middle of the room.

“Fuck, Harry,” I gasp out, clutching the spatula in my hand against my chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

My eyes scan over him for a second, and I watch as he puts the glass that I left on the nightstand for him down on the counter. I’m happy to see that it’s empty again. “So, out of all the women in LA that I could’ve gone home with, how the hell did I end up here with you?”

I roll my eyes at his comment, shaking my head as I turn my attention back to the pancake in front of me - flipping it.

“That’s a crappy way to talk to someone who kept you from sleeping on the street last night,” I say, not speaking too loud though. “Also, did you forget you have a girlfriend?”

“I wouldn’t have slept on the street,” Harry almost laughs as he says it, and for some reason that has me growing irritated.

“Oh, really?” I ask, throwing a laugh right back at him. “You could hardly hold yourself up, and I asked you several times what your address was, and you couldn’t even answer me. I think it’s fair to say you wouldn’t have been getting yourself home.”

It goes silent between the two of us as I take the finished pancake out of the pan, stacking it on the plate with the others. “I have one more pancake to make, and then we can eat.”

“You made me breakfast?”

I look back to Harry to see an expression I don’t recognize from him covering his face, and I nod. “I just figured you’d be hungry. I was going to take you home after, but if you don’t want anything, then I can take you home now.”

Harry continues to just stare at me for a moment before he shakes his head. “Breakfast is fine.”

“Okay,” I respond, and then I grab the mixing bowl - pouring the batter for the last pancake into the pan. “The coffee in the pot over there just finished if you wanted some. And if you want something else other than that or water, I have juices, and a few sodas, in the fridge.”

From the corner of my eye, I can see that he steps towards the coffee pot, and he pauses - beginning to look around.

“Mugs are in the cabinet right in front of you,” I instruct him, placing the empty batter bowl into the sink.

Harry opens the cabinet, and he pulls a mug out before pausing. “Do…do you want a cup?”

I raise an eyebrow at his back, not having expected him to offer, but I don’t comment negatively on that - no matter how close the words are to the tip of my tongue.

“Yes, please. I like mine with some sugar, and a bit of oat milk.”

Walking back over to the pan, I flip the last pancake, and I smile when I see this one is just as perfectly golden brown as the others. I let Harry do his thing as he moves around my kitchen, not watching like a hawk like I want to, and I pull the pancake from the pan.

I set the plate with the stack in the middle of my dining table before returning to the kitchen to grab both butter and syrup. Once I’m back, Harry is already sitting down while leaning over to place my mug at the head of the table, and he’s sitting in the seat beside me.

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” he mumbles once I sit as well, and I just shrug in response.

“I know I didn’t, and honestly, you don’t really deserve it, but I wanted to.”

Harry catches my eyes for just a moment before staring down at the empty plate I had already set down on the table before I started cooking. I don’t comment any further as I lift my plate and grab my fork - stabbing two pancakes and dragging them over.

For a second I think Harry isn’t going to indulge, but then he also reaches out to take two pancakes. While I smother the tops of both of mine with butter, I can see Harry is doing the same. We go to reach for the syrup at the same time - fingertips brushing against each other. Harry clears his throat before dropping his hand.

“You go first.”

Nodding, I take the bottle, and pour just the right amount that I like over my creation before passing it over to him.

We eat in silence for the most part, but I can’t help but speak up after a while.

“Last night you said you were only trying to fight that guy because he was an asshole,” I state while cutting off a new bite of pancake. “What’s the real reason?”

Harry pauses in the middle of bringing his fork to his lips, but once I look over to him, he sets the silverware back down against his plate. “He uh…he said some shit about my mum. His dad used to date her or something.”

I can’t help but wonder if what the man said about Harry’s mom was justified because truly, she’s not a good woman. The older I’ve gotten, the more I find it hard to wrap my head around how a woman allowed herself to get so drunk around her teenage son for years. I know she has a problem with alcohol, but I’ll never understand how she prioritized that over her own child. Unfortunately, by the sounds of it, she still continues to.

"I'm sorry, Harry," I extend my condolences as Harry pops his bite of pancake into his mouth, but I don't really mean it - at least in the way that I’m not sorry someone spoke ill about his mom. I am sad it led him to want to fight someone though. "How's your face and your mouth feeling?"

“Face hurts,” he winces a bit as he grazes his fingers over the darkened bruise and gash. “But my mouth feels fine. I don’t think my teeth dug in too deep, and I’m sure that the rinse you had me use helped a lot.”

“I thought you didn’t remember where you were this morning,” I smirk softly, realizing that I caught him in a lie. He does have memories of last night.

Harry’s eyes wander over my face, and he opens his mouth to speak before I hear a chime coming from my phone over on the kitchen counter. 

I stand and make my way over to it, and I panic when I see I clearly have a meeting at noon for a local gig Lys had found for me. An open-mic type event.

“Oh, shit,” I shake my head when I see that it’s already a little past eleven. 

Racing back over to the table, I pick up half of one of the pancakes I had left, leaving the other on my plate as I shove it into my mouth. I grab my coffee mug, and I begin to quickly head down the hall.

“I’m sorry, I completely forgot I have a meeting today at noon!”

Entering my room, I crack my door, and I pull off my pajamas and hoodie, heading into my closet to find something easy to wear. I settle on a black dress that has a corset-like top, and I pull it over my head - thankful that it supports enough for me to not have to wear a bra. Sitting down on the side of my bed, I roll my fishnets on, and slide black ankle socks onto my feet before shoving them inside my usual pair of Dr. Martens.

From there, I pull my door back open in case Harry needs to say anything before sitting down at my vanity to do some quick make-up. I guzzle down another few sips of coffee after applying concealer where needed, and I lean closer to my mirror as I start on my eyeliner.

I see that Harry has moved from the table to stand in the door out of my peripheral, and I lick over my bottom lip.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to just dart up from the table like that. I just hate being late for stuff,” I explain as I start the eyeliner on my other eye.

“It’s fine.”

From there, I can see he’s crossed his arms over his chest, and he’s now leaning against my doorway - watching me intently. I don’t comment on it. I just let him watch.

After coating my lashes in mascara, I stand up and drink down the rest of my coffee before heading into my en-suite. I brush my teeth as fast as I can, while still being thorough, and I walk back out to see Harry dragging his fingertips over the neck of my acoustic guitar in the corner.

I come to a complete stop as I see him tilt his head to the side, and I watch him take in a deep breath as presses down a bit harder while running his fingers down the strings. It makes that small little scratching noise as he does - causing him to straighten up a little bit with his mouth pursed.

Once he abruptly turns his attention to some of the artwork on my wall instead of my instrument, I make my presence know again as I re-enter the room.

“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll take you back to yours as soon as I get back, but I don’t have time right now,” I head towards my front door, and I can hear Harry following behind. “Please make yourself at home while I’m gone, and if you need anything, just text me okay?”

I sling my purse over my shoulder, and grab my keys from the table near the door. 

“Okay. You just…you’re fine with me just staying here?”

I shrug as I open up the door, and I turn around to keep facing him as I step outside, and backwards, onto my porch. 

“Maybe I’m making a mistake, an even bigger mistake than letting you stay here last night, but hopefully you’ll prove me wrong.”

Harry narrows his brows, but he doesn’t speak before I continue.

“Just lock the door up for me, alright?”

Turning around completely, I head towards my car while unlocking it, and I slip in the driver’s seat as I punch the address to the venue into my GPS. I get out of my driveway and onto the road as I truly process the fact that I’ve left Harry alone in my house.

“Please,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Please prove me wrong.”

●・○・●・○・●

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 @lemoncrushh (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

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[sequinsmile-x]

Some Things Are Meant to Be - Part 3

She freezes at the sound of the voice she hadn’t heard in years, her shoulders tight as she turns, her jaw clenched as their eyes meet, a face she hadn’t seen in two decades staring right back at her.

A sequel to Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too

Part 3/3

Part 1 -x- Part 2

-x-

Hi friends,

Sorry for the slight wait on the final part of this!

I really hope you like this...there are a LOT of mommy issues because I got carried away as usual.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

It feels like she’s stepped back in time. 

The house looks the same, as if it hadn’t been 20 years since she’d last been here. She’d never liked being here. It had never felt like home even though it was the closest she’d ever had to one before she lived with Aaron. It was the ‘home base’, the place where she and her parents would come back to after months away, usually only for a month or two at most. It was a house, but it had never been a home. 

She hated it. Hated what it represented, what she could have had if her parents were different. What she was giving her girls and what she’d spend her entire life protecting so they knew they were loved. 

She blows out a shuddering breath and she jumps a little when she feels Aaron wrap his hand around hers. Her smile falters when she turns to look at him, a shake to it that he wasn’t used to. 

“We can just go home,” he offers, lifting their joint hands and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, “We can just turn around and go home, pretend this never happened.” 

She loves him for suggesting it, for loving her enough to suggest it. She leans in and stamps a kiss on his lips, lingering for a moment before she rests her forehead against his, “That’s sweet but I have to know what they want.” 

He knew her well enough to know it would drive her crazy if she never found out, if she simply ignored the email her mother had sent a week ago. It already had been driving her crazy. She hadn’t been herself this week, had been more irritable than usual - short-tempered with anyone other than him and the girls. He knew the girls had noticed it too. Evelyn was on her best behaviour, any usual teenage angst nowhere to be found, concern in her dark eyes whenever she looked at her mother. Hazel and Mae understood less of what was going on, but they were sticking closer to Emily even more than usual, demanding her love and attention at any given moment. 

Emily hesitates as she reaches for the doorbell, blowing out a steady breath before she presses it. Aaron watches as her armour goes up. Thick, almost impenetrable walls he hadn’t seen in years as a fake smile spreads across her face when the front door opens. It’s the version of her he met all those years ago. 

The version he’d fallen in love with in this very house. 

“Miss Emily,” the housekeeper says as she smiles, pulling the door open so they can step into the house, “It’s been a long time.” 

“Hi Vanessa,” she says, smiling tightly, “It’s nice to see you,” she adds, looking around the foyer, wondering how nothing had changed, “Are they…”

“The ambassadors are in the formal living room,” Vanessa says, her smile getting slightly brighter when she looks at Aaron, an edge of I knew it curved into its corners, “Nice to see you again Agent Hotchner.” 

Aaron clears his throat, hiding a smile he worries isn’t appropriate, and nods, “You too, Vanessa.” 

Vanessa waves them through and Emily blows out a slow breath as they walk slowly through the house. She squeezes her husband's hand and lowers her voice, purposely talking quietly so they aren’t overheard. 

“Is it just me or does it seem exactly the same?” 

“Not just you, sweetheart,” he assures her, “It’s like a time capsule,” he says, winking at her when he turns to look at her, desperate to try to ease some of the tension he can sense in her, “Might even find our old make-out spots.” 

She chuckles and smiles gratefully at him but any further conversation is cut off as they walk into the living room. For a moment she doesn’t feel like the confident 43-year-old she is, instead she feels like she’s 23 again and just about to be cut off by the people sitting in front of her. 

“Mom,” she says, briefly looking at her mother before she looks at her father. John Prentiss hadn’t aged as well as Elizabeth had, and it made Emily realise just how much of each other's lives they’d missed.  “Dad.” 

She sits down before either one of them can attempt to hug her, the forced nature of it too much for her to handle. Aaron follows her lead and sits next to her, his thigh pressed against hers as their joint hands fall into her lap. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to have company.”

Emily narrows her eyes at her mother and swallows thickly, “Aaron is my husband,” she says, her gaze unrelenting, “He has been for a long time.”

“How long have you been married?” John asks, genuine interest in his voice that Emily doesn’t think he deserves. 

“17 years,” Aaron answers when she doesn’t, his grip on her hand firm as she looks at the ground, her stomach bubbling over with anxiety and anger she can’t control. 

“That’s a long-”

“Why are we here?” Emily asks, her head snapping up as she looks at them, “You want something. You didn’t ask me to come here just to pass the time of day,” she says, staring them down, “What do you want?” 

Elizabeth and John look at each other and Emily watches as they have a silent conversation. She’d sat opposite them countless times before in moments like this when she’d been in trouble as a child or as a teenager. Eventually, they turn to look at her, and Elizabeth folds her hands in her lap. 

“It’s about your daughter.” 

Emily sighs and closes her eyes, shaking her head as she bites back a knowing laugh. “Which one?” She gets a sense of satisfaction at the shock that crosses over both of her parent’s faces when she asks the question she already knows the answer to, “We have three.” 

She watches as her mother controls her reaction, her lips pressed together before she continues, the tension in the room increasing with each passing second. 

“Obviously, we mean the one I saw you with since we didn’t know you had more than one,” she says tightly, “I asked around,” Elizabeth says, a smile that had a little too much pride in it for Emily’s liking spreading across her face, “Evelyn apparently shows a real aptitude for politics. Given our connections, we could help her get ahead. She may not have the Prentiss name but she has the talent.”

It’s exactly why Emily thought her mother had reached out to her, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. The confirmation stinging deep in her gut as she realises neither of her parents had even asked about their other granddaughters. They hadn’t sought out any other information beyond the fact they existed. She chokes on a humourless laugh and shakes her head as she stands up, turning her back on her parents for a moment as she takes a breath. Aaron reaches for her hand and she squeezes it before she turns back.

“Hazel and Mae.” 

Elizabeth frowns at her, “What-”

“Our other kids,” she says, staring at them, 20 years of pent-up fury coming to a boil in her stomach, “Their names are Hazel and Mae. Not that you asked. But those are their names.” 

John sighs, “Emily, wait a second-”

“Hazel is so good at drawing. She has been ever since she could pick up a crayon,” she says, cutting her father off, her hand tight around Aaron’s who is now also standing next to her, “She’s 10. It’s crazy how good she is, and a little scary because I look at the stuff she brings home from school and I can only imagine what she’ll be capable of when she’s older,” she adds, unable to stop now she’d started, wanting them to feel nothing other than shame that they’d missed out on everything because of their own short-sightedness, “And Mae, she’s 5 and she’s so caring. If any of the other kids fall over at recess she’s there with them before the teacher is, trying to cheer them up and make them feel better,” her chest heaves and she shakes her head, “Do they deserve your attention too? Or is your desire to know Evelyn borne out of nothing more than the fact she’s what you wish I’d been.” 

“Emily, you’re being sensitive-”

“I’m not…I’m not doing this. You are not doing this. We can all go back to the way things were a week ago,” Emily says, shaking her head, “I am not letting you have anything to do with them.” 

Elizabeth sighs and shakes her head, “First you walk away from all the opportunities we could have given you for a man,” she says, her eyes flicking to Aaron, “And now you’re refusing to allow your own daughter to have them because of your own stubbornness.” 

Aaron feels a wave of protectiveness wash over him, pushing him forward as he stands in front of his wife, his jaw tight, “You can’t talk to her like that.” 

“Aaron,” Emily says, placing her hand on his chest, shaking her head ever so slightly so only he can see, “It’s okay,” she waits for him to nod, although he doesn’t step back, and then she turns back to Elizabeth, “I am making the decision I think is right for my daughter. If she wants to do anything different when she turns 18 that’s her call, but for now, I get to decide what I protect her from - and that includes you.”

John scoffs and shakes his head, “20 years and you haven’t changed a bit.”

“I have changed, Dad,” she says, pressing her lips together, “I am an excellent FBI agent. I am a wife and a mother and I like to think I’m pretty good at that too,” she bites the inside of her cheek, unsure whether to say what she wants to next, but deciding that she should, well aware this would likely be the last time she’d speak to them if she had anything to do with it, “And for the record, I didn’t walk away for a man. I did it for me. That would have been true whether Aaron and I worked out or not,” she swallows thickly and turns to look at Aaron, “We should go.” 

Elizabeth stands up, “Now, Emily, we just want a moment to discuss this.” 

She looks back at her mother and shakes her head, “You’re about 20 years too late to discuss my life with me,” she looks at Aaron again, “Can we go?” 

He nods and places his hand on her lower back as he starts to lead her out of the house. He casts a glance back over his shoulder at his in-laws, the people who had deemed him not good enough for the woman he loved, and he throws them a small nod, something he hopes they take as an assurance he’d look after her. Just like he always had. 

Emily doesn’t say anything as they get in the car, her jaw clenched and tight as she clips her seatbelt into place. He reaches over the centre console and places his hand on her knee, squeezing tightly. 

“Em-”

“They didn’t even really want to see me,” she says, shaking her head as she wipes a tear from her cheek, “If I’d walked into her alone…” she drifts off and clears her throat as she looks out of the window, “Can we just go home, please?” 

He stares at her side profile for a moment and he leans in and kisses her temple before he starts the engine, “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” 

___

December 1999

Emily hums a nursery rhyme as she paces the living room, her lips against her daughter’s forehead as she tries to get her off to sleep. She groans as she tilts her head to look at Evelyn and sees she’s still awake, the four-week-olds dark eyes still wide open as she snuggles against her mother’s chest. 

“Come on, sweet girl,” she says, rubbing circles on the baby’s back, “Please go to sleep.” 

“She wants to see in the new millennium.”  

She smiles as she turns to look at her husband, raising an eyebrow as he walks towards them, placing a bottle of sparkling cider and two champagne flutes on the coffee table as he makes it to their side. The television was on, but the sound was off, the celebrations in Times Square up on the screen for them to barely pay attention to. 

“You can drink actual champagne, you know,” she says, stamping her lips against his before she can continue to pace, knowing Evelyn would never fall asleep if she stood still for too long, “Just because I’m Evie’s personal dairy cow doesn’t mean you can’t ring in the new year without real alcohol.” 

“It wouldn’t feel right, sweetheart,” he says, leaning back against the couch, his arms crossed as he watches his two favourite people in the world, “Plus, I think I can still feel last year's hangover.” 

She laughs, something she has to hold back when she remembers she still has her daughter resisting sleep on her chest. They’d spent last New Year out with their friends, drunk a lot of champagne and then came home and had a lot of sex. 

Sex that she is almost positive led to the tiny baby in her arms.

“Same,” she says, resting her cheek on top of Evelyn’s head, “It had the best outcome though.” 

He walks over and wraps his arms around them both, “The absolute best,” he says, kissing her forehead, “Want me to take her for a while?” 

Emily nods and kisses Evelyn’s head before she lets him take her out of her arms, overcome with the usual mix of joy at seeing them together and the desire to snatch her baby back into her embrace. Moments like this inevitably made her think of her parents. She tried to imagine them in the early stages of parenthood, of the long seemingly endless days of having a newborn. She wished she could picture them like this, trading off holding her as they tried to get her off to sleep late at night, but she couldn’t. 

She thought she’d miss them. That the six years she’d gone without having her parents in her life would disappear and she’d suddenly feel like she was right at the start again, that being a new parent would unlock some deep-seated, primal, need in her to have them back. 

But it hadn’t. Her family was small, just the three of them for now, but she loved it. She didn’t feel like she was missing anything. 

“There we go,” Aaron says, his voice soft as he pulls her out of her train of thought, a smile on his face that edged on smug as he turns to show her that Evelyn is fast asleep. 

“Daddy’s girl,” Emily scoffs, although they both know there is no malice behind it, and she walks over stroking her knuckles down her daughter’s soft cheek, her breath catching in her chest as she does so. “She’s so perfect,” she says, her eyes filling with tears she still wasn’t used to as she looks up at him, “How did we make something so perfect?”

Aaron smiles and adjusts his hold on Evelyn and wraps his arm around his wife, pulling her close and kissing her temple, “Because you’re perfect.”

She chuckles and shakes her head, pressing her face into his shoulder as she turns to look at Evelyn, “Daddy is ridiculous, sweet girl,” she says quietly, not wanting to wake her, “But we love him anyway.” She teases, and he shakes his head and looks at the television and sees the ball drop and he encourages Emily to look. They both smile and she leans in to kiss him, “Happy New Year, honey.” 

He smiles as he pulls back, “Happy New Year.”

___

The girls are all over her when they get home. 

Hazel brings her a drawing she’s done, a proud smile on her face as she climbs in her lap as Emily looks over it. She holds the 10-year-old close as she points out who is who in the family portrait she’d drawn, although it’s clear enough that Emily doesn’t need the direction. She already knows she’s going to take it to work and frame it, place it on her desk to look at it every time she has a hard day and needs reminding of all the good things she had in the world. 

Mae sticks close by too, glued to her mother’s side until Aaron takes her to bed, her small hands on Emily’s cheeks as she pokes at her dimples to make her smile. Emily can hear her giggling upstairs, and she knows there is no doubt that the 5-year-old is conning Aaron into at least one bedtime story. 

She sighs to herself and she’s just about to go to the kitchen, a bottle of wine in the fridge with her name on it, but she’s stopped as Evelyn walks into the living room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. 

“Are you okay Evie?”

The teenager shrugs and then sighs when Emily pats the couch cushion next to her. She walks over and flops down onto the couch, her legs tucked under herself as she faces Emily. 

“Did you go and see your mom and dad today?”

Emily’s eyebrow shoot up her face before she can stop them and she chokes on a laugh at the unexpected question. She loved that her daughters were smart, that they’d always been ahead of the curve when it came to their peers, but for once, just once, she wished Evelyn wasn’t as perceptive. 

“Why…” she clears her throat, “Why do you think we did that?” 

Evelyn rolls her eyes, “Because we walked into your mom a week ago and you’ve been acting all weird ever since,” she says, twisting some of her hair in between her fingers, “And you seem…I don’t know…sad.” 

Emily sighs and she reaches out to place her hand on Evelyn’s arm. She never lied to her daughters, not beyond the Santa Claus or Tooth Fairy lies every parent told, and she wasn’t going to start now. 

“Yes,” she says, squeezing her daughter’s arm, “We went to see them.” 

The corner of Evelyn’s lips twitch, a sarcastic smile Aaron said was all her looking back at her, “I’m guessing because of the pizza we had for dinner and Dad’s over-the-top enthusiasm for helping with Mae’s bedtime it didn’t exactly go well?” 

She laughs and nods her head, “Yeah, it didn’t go well.” 

“I looked them up,” Evelyn says, taking Emily by surprise again, her lips pressed together as their eyes meet, “A long time ago at school. I knew they were a big deal but…wow.”

Emily’s confidence in her earlier decision wavers, a moment of doubt washing over her like ice water as she blows out a shaky breath, “Would you…” she swallows thickly, “Would you want to get to know them?”

“Oh god no,” she replies, shaking her head fiercely, smiling when Emily looks surprised. She shifts closer and tucks herself under Emily’s arm, resting her head against her chest, “I know you’ve always talked around it, but I know enough to know it has something to do with Dad.” 

Emily runs her fingers through Evelyn’s hair, enjoying the closeness from her eldest, “What does honey?” 

“Why you don’t speak to them,” she says, tilting her head to look up at her, “And Dad might be embarrassing as hell and the worst school trip chaperone of all time,” they both smile and Emily reaches out to tuck some hair behind Evelyn’s ear, “But he’s Dad. And you two are disgustingly in love after all this time, and I’m half him. What if they don’t like the half of me that's him?”

Emily hums and tugs Evelyn back into her chest, resting her cheek on top of her head, “It’s more likely the part of you that’s me they’d have the biggest problem with.”

Evelyn settles in closer to Emily’s embrace and sighs, “I can stop,” she says, looking up at her again, an earnest look in her eyes, “If it means we’re less likely to bump into them or whatever, I can stop student government.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Emily says, sitting up so she can cup Evelyn’s cheek, tears pressing at the back of her eyes that she refuses to shed, her daughter’s kindness healing any wounds that her parent’s lack of interest in her had created, “I would never ask you to do that.” 

Evelyn frowns, “I don’t want to do anything that makes you sad.” 

She leans forward and kisses her daughter’s forehead and then tugs her into a hug, smiling into her little girl’s hair as she returns it just as fiercely, “You never could, honey. I am so proud of you,” she says, pulling back to look at her, “And I want you to be whoever you want to be.” 

She hears a throat clearing in the doorway and she smiles as she looks over and sees her husband, the adoring look on his face letting her know just how much he’d overheard. 

“I was thinking we could watch one of those shows you two like,” he says as he leans against the door frame, “One of those where the women all yell at each other in whatever restaurant they happen to be in.” 

Evenlyn beams at him and jumps up off the couch, “There is a new episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” she says, briefly hugging Aaron before she leaves the room, “I’ll get the snacks.” 

“There are peanut butter cups in the back of the pantry,” he calls after her, smiling when she waves her hand at him over her shoulder. He waits until she’s out of view and then walks over to the couch, sitting next to his wife and wrapping his arm around her, “It feels stupid asking, but are you okay?”

She blows out a breath as she sinks into his side, her head on his shoulder as he pulls her impossibly closer. She tilts her head to look at him,  and her smile shakes a little. She knew it would take a while before she felt like she was on even footing again, and that she’d hold her breath, anticipating that she was going to walk into one of her parents every time she’d turn a corner. 

In some ways, it felt like she was right back at the start but she knew she wasn’t. She wasn’t 23 and unsure of where her relationship could end up, she knew she would have Aaron by her side no matter what. She hadn’t walked away from her family, she had one of her own. A family stitched together with love and joy, not unfulfilled expectations and half-truths. 

She nods and leans in to kiss him, making sure it’s quick because she can hear Evelyn walking back towards them, her feet thumping against the hardwood floor. 

“I will be.” 

-x-

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