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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Inevitable (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 6.9k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: Couldn’t stop thinking about how Yang Jungwon’s role model is Jungkook and they have similar features (especially as kids) and the sweetest smiles! Hence, the little angel we have here. I hope you enjoy this first chapter! Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist!

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You stare at the grocery list, eyes squinting to try to read the words you’d half-mindedly written down this morning.

Your boss convinced you to take Friday off when it slipped that Jungwon has been having separation anxiety lately, as he hasn’t spent time with his mother this whole winter break.

You’d been doing overtime - on weekdays and weekends - and your boss, a mother herself, knows that overworking would take its toll on you and your son, especially as a single parent. It’s why you’re here now, grocery shopping with the little one, something he enjoys doing with you, too.

Still, it’s just one day and it’s not really enough to compensate for all the other days you work your ass off at the company, but the pay is good and the people are kind; those have been enough for you to stay the past two years.

A smile forms on your face once you decipher the crooked words on the piece of paper you’re holding up. You can make out the word ‘banana’ right before ‘milk,’ ‘choc’ somewhere near ‘ice cream,’ and ‘bron’ just next to ‘cereal.’ Brown cereal? Did he mean cocoa pops?

Jungwon has improved his writing and vocabulary and you pat yourself on the back for the times you’d forced yourself awake during your Sunday rest time just so you could guide him on his workbook. You congratulate yourself for thinking of showing him flash cards while he scrubs himself in the makeshift tub during bath time. And you thank the heavens for your best friend Taehyung’s bright idea of setting up a blackboard on the wall on Jungwon’s side of the bed so he can doodle until he falls asleep.

“Am I not the best uncle, muffin?” Taehyung had asked the little one then, who always knew what to answer.

“You and uncle Joonie are the best,” Jungwon had said.

Your kid is a ball of fluff, you’d almost think it’s genetic because you definitely are not one, but the other half of him is.

You brush away that thought before your chest begins to tighten. You choose to think that Tae and your older brother Namjoon, whom Jungwon spends the most time with apart from you, are true softies and he’d definitely gotten it from them.

You’re still smiling, insides warming enough to brave through the January cold until you realize that you’re no longer hearing your son’s buzzing sound that he does when he plays with his airplane. For all his softness, he does give you a heart attack every once in a while because of his tendency to scurry somewhere that piques his interest. It was probably the aisle that had those chocolates he wanted so you pick up your basket and rush to the one right next to where you are.

Your heart drops to the floor at the sight of your son standing in front of a man who’s crouching down, tinkering with the toy. It probably disassembled again and this does not earn you a pat on the back this time for forgetting to buy Jungwon a new one that’s more age-appropriate, and for not paying enough attention.

You’re partly shocked and partly curious - he’s a shy kid, tends to run back to you at the sight of an unfamiliar person, wide eyes usually on full display when someone tries to get his attention.

But not right now. He’s still wide-eyed but he’s sporting a shy smile, one he tries to suppress by biting his lower lip. Wonder where he got that from. Such mannerisms aren’t genetic too, right?

The mystery man hands him the toy airplane, which Jungown clutches to his chest. He bows at the man and whispers a ‘thank you.’ If that man wanted to do something bad, he would’ve taken Jungwon already but he hasn’t. You’re glad that at least a kind man has found your son.

“Jungwon, sweetie. Come here, please,” you call out, moving a bit to try to get the man’s attention to express your thanks but he’s sporting a hoodie that’s engulfing his face. Maybe you should’ve been more scared.

The stranger shakily stands up and turns as Jungown runs to you with his eyes not leaving his little toy.

Your eyes, on the other hand, can’t leave the figure standing just a few feet away from you, like a bad dream but that isn’t exactly a nightmare.

He’s here. He’s home. And he looks just as gorgeous as you remember - expressive onyx eyes, pretty thin lips, defined jawline, muscular build...

His own eyes move from you to the kid next to you, trying to come up with explanations, mind reeling at what this could mean. You sounded so tender, so loving, so… motherly.

“Jung—”

“Your—”

You both say at the same time. His eyes are fixated on Jungwon, probably trying to figure out who the child is to you.

“I’m babysitting,” you panic.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow and just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something, Jungwon decides to not be shy in front of a supposed stranger.

“Mama, that man fixed my plane!” He excitedly says, and you hate to crush his little moment of joy.

Jungkook’s eyes are now saucer-like, not at all minding that you were caught in a lie but that you, the woman who’d broken his heart all those years ago, have a child. A child whose eyes uncannily and painfully resemble his.

You and Jungkook both seem to be in a daze, your own thoughts swirling in your heads at the situation that neither expected would happen.

You stopped watching his baseball games about two years ago and had avoided whatever news about him would come up. Except recently when you’d heard about him possibly signing with a South Korean baseball team. Looks like did because he’s here, and he hasn’t been in years.

You’d heard from your brother that Jungkook had been doing well with the LA Dodgers and you hadn’t expected that he’d up and leave what had been his home the past four or so years to, well, come home. You’re glad he is but you also aren’t prepared for this.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had tried his best to forget about you soon after you walked out on him that December evening, almost succeeding multiple times until he gave up altogether. He came home last week, earlier than what he’d told the media, since he knew they’d be hampering him about his homecoming, given his recent signing with the Doosan Bears, one of Seoul’s professional baseball teams.

He’d spent the past few days in Busan to visit his mother and arrived from his 4-hour drive just an hour ago. He’d hoped to reach out or run into you but didn’t expect it to actually happen today. He definitely didn’t expect you’d have a son, too.

“Mama, did you get my banana milk?” Jungwon asks, breaking the bubble of confusion and shock between you and Jungkook, both unbelieving at the reality of you finally being in the same space, breathing the same air after so long.

“Yeah, I—” you start, placing the basket down and picking up your son, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Your mind is a puddle of thoughts and you just know that incoherent words will escape your mouth if you don’t leave right now so you make a run for it, or at least try. You walk briskly, clutching Jungwon tightly with his arms wrapped around your neck, so you don’t see him smiling at the man following both of you.

Jungkook calls out your name, prompting Jungwon to state that the man who’d fixed his plane knows his mother.

There are more people with their pushcarts near the exit, making it hard for your quick escape. Jungkook is catching up and upon realizing you won’t turn back to acknowledge him, he talks to Jungwon instead.

“How old are you, buddy?” Jungkook asks, legs clearly made for this. He’s panting though, you can hear it in his voice.

You can’t make a scene so you just try to walk faster.

You feel Jungwon release an arm and you know he’s putting out the ‘four’ sign, something he likes to do.

“When is your birthday?” Jungkook asks shortly after.

Oh god, you think. Jungwon loves this question. “July 6!” He exclaims.

The footsteps become faint and you’re brave enough to turn back as you near the exit doors. Jungkook stands there, dots connecting, mouth agape at what this means.

You leave the supermarket and run to your car, hurriedly placing Jungwon on the car seat and driving away, willing the tears not to fall.

“Who was that, Mama?” He innocently asks.

You admit that you’d thought about the day you’d see Jungkook and let him know about the little one too many times, but this isn’t how you planned it to happen - in public, when you’re incredibly tired, and when you haven’t thought about what you’d say.

This isn’t how you planned on telling Jungwon, too, so you tell a half-truth, like what you’d done a few times before.

“He’s a friend, sweetcheeks. He’s just a friend.”

The tears eventually fall about 5 hours later.

You got home from the grocery - without your groceries, watched cartoons with Jungwon, had food delivered, then prepared him for bed.

You’re now sat on your couch, wine glass in hand, as you try to make sense of the overwhelming emotions of seeing the man that was once your world. Technically, Jungkook still is, considering that your son is half of him.

But it’s different now. Too much has changed since you broke up with him, since he left 5 years ago to chase his dreams of playing for the Major League Baseball in the US, the dream he’d shared with his father, the dream he’d spent his whole life chasing.

Baseball had always been Jungkook’s world; a given, you always thought, since his own father was a baseball star himself, whose dream of playing for the MLB materialized during a trip to Boston as a teenager, the blinding lights and massiveness of Fenway Park and the roars of the crowd cheering for the Red Sox so alluring that he’d made it a point to watch a live game at least once a year.

His own career as a professional player for the South Korean league had been commendable, leading his teams to championships and even playing for the 1996 Olympics. That had been the second best experience of his life, the first being Jungkook’s birth two years prior. Marrying his wife was a close third, and it was something the pair always laughed about. You know this because Jungkook raved about his parents a lot, used to talk about them like he just lived next door to his mother - whom he called everyday, like his father was still alive.

His father didn’t have the luxury of getting scouted by American teams because baseball wasn’t as big then, but his dream of playing for the MLB never faded. Just like what his own father had done, he’d taken Jungkook to a live game every year since Jungkook was six, and tried to watch in every baseball park of every major league team.

They’d only make it to seven though. By that time, the cancer had been debilitating and he had to give up that annual date with his only child. Watching the Lotte Giants in their hometown of Busan had been enough for 13-year old Jungkook, who’d likewise been fascinated by the game, so was waking up in the wee hours of the morning to still catch MLB games on TV.

Jungkook was 14 when his old man passed.

He rarely talked about his father’s death. He also rarely talked about his father outside of baseball. He was a father-coach, Jungkook used to say, not the scary, stage father type who pressured him but the incredibly supportive, only slightly critical one. He’d made Jungkook fall in love with baseball, made him have a reason to wake up everyday, made him have something work hard for, fight for.

After he passed, baseball became something Jungkook hung onto, something he used to remind him of the man that made him who he is today. It became the most sacred part of himself, not for the popularity it gained him nor the praises he received, but because it showed the best parts of him, which were also the best parts of his father - his self-confidence, his tenacity, his grit, and his resolve, his passion for his craft.

Baseball taught Jungkook the value of hard work, of commitment, of focus, while at the same time reminding him of his physical capabilities and limitations.

It’s why he took his Sports Science course seriously, knowing that until his last breath, he would live for the sport. He’d play until he’s physically able, and do everything else when he can’t.

Jungkook had always been a good leader - another trait he got from his father, served as the pillar of strength of every team he’d been a part of because of his vulnerability that allowed others to trust him, to believe him.

His self-confidence may border on arrogance, his forcefulness and intensity may be perceived as aggression, but behind his intimidating aura on the field - partly personality, partly physical prowess - is a tender human being who gets excited over sweets, gushes over Ironman merchandise, likes making blanket forts, squeals over baby animals, enjoys bear hugs, and who just loves to love.

Those were what made you fall for him in the first place. They were what made your naturally cold exterior dissolve until your heart had become bare for him, until your insecurities had become insignificant, until you’d exuded almost the same joy that he had.

Seeing him today just brought the memories back, as if nothing has changed with what you felt for him, as if the pain you felt when you told him it was over, when you walked out and he let you, was just a breath away.

You didn’t realize just how much you missed him until you saw him again, until his proximity reminded you how his laugh used to sound, how his wide eyes and sweet smile looked like, how his sensual touches used to feel.

The tears fall again. That pain, that love - it’s like they never went away.

“Uncle Tete!” Jungwon squeals as your best friend picks up your son from the floor, swinging him around in a circle, soft laughter reverberating through the walls of your cozy apartment. It only takes a few rounds before Taehyung puts him down and complains that his arms already hurt.

“What happened to working on arm exercises?” You chuckle.

“Don’t remind me, you know I hate lifting weights. Plus, like that would make much of a difference,” he exclaims, slim arms out, being swallowed by his sweater. “I’m not an athlete, you know?”

You flinch at the comment and so does he.

“Sorry, too soon?”

“Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes and settling in the kitchen, a bit farther away from Jungwon, whose eyes are now fixated on the TV.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have known Jungkook was back if he hadn’t decided to revive our group chat yesterday after 2 years to ask everyone if they’ve seen you recently because you apparently have a kid and he believes he’s the father.”

“Pretty straightforward, huh?”

“He didn’t wanna waste time. Didn’t even care that your brother is in the same group,” Taehyung shrugs.

“Probably knows Namjoon won’t check.”

“True. But still, how bold of your ex.”

“What did the guys say?” You ask, curious if they ever caught on. Your twice a year appearance since college graduation seemed to be enough for them.

“Yoongi cursed. Jin spammed with theories because he’s convinced you haven’t had a boyfriend in years. Hoseok sent a video message of his reaction, which was really just him freaking out. Jimin acted surprised.”

“And you?”

“I left the group chat.”

You smack his arm, earning you a scowl. “Real smooth, Kim Taehyung.”

“Well, what was I gonna say? ‘Yeah, Jungkook. Your ex-girlfriend was actually pregnant when she broke up with you and you’re totally the father?’”

“You could’ve feigned ignorance, you know, or like denied it until I figured out what to say.”

“___,” he deadpans. “One look at Jungwon and it screams Jungkook. His name isn’t actually subtle, okay? Look at your kid, he even dresses up and eats like the father he’s never met!”

You motion for him to tone it down but Jungwon is busy watching the Avengers cartoons in his Ironman pajamas while sipping his banana milk.

“I’m not projecting!” You say, defending yourself because you know that’s what Taehyung is gonna say.

“It’s not my fault that my kid chose Ironman as his favorite Avenger no matter how many times I pushed Captain America to his face, okay? He didn’t even mind the shield I bought,” you pout.

“And he won’t drink plain milk. If it’s not banana, it’s chocolate. And he loves sweets, loves to hug people, has the cutest laugh…” You sigh, still racking your brain on what parts of your son he got from you.

“Maybe the universe is the one projecting, you know? Like it just had to find a way for Jungwon to be connected to Jungkook, if not physically then by other ways.”

“Your theory is sweet but I doubt it, Tae.”

“My theory is backed by evidence. And a father’s instinct because that shit’s real. Jungkook was still around during those first two months, the bond probably developed then.”

“Jungwon was the size of a raspberry. It’s highly unlikely.”

“Can you just stop deflecting? The father of your son is here. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know! Get my shit together and figure out what to say? You know I’m not ready for this,” you exclaim.

“Funny that you knew exactly what to say when you broke up with him but now you don’t,” Taehyung cocks an eyebrow.

“Are you my best friend or are you out to get me?”

“I’m just saying. You made that decision all on your own. Didn’t even confide in me,” he pouts. “I could’ve thrown some other options that didn’t require you breaking his heart and yours too, and going through all this by yourself.”

“Except I didn’t go through all this by myself,” you pat his head. “I had you and Namjoon. You were all I needed. Still do.”

“We can never take the place of Jungwon’s father, you know that right?”

“I know, I just… He’s not just my kid’s father, Tae. He’s my ex-boyfriend too. The man I loved.”

“You mean love. The man you still think about, and miss terribly.”

You squint at him as if in question. It’s been years since you and Taehyung had shared an apartment where he’d seen you cry almost everyday. It was something he wasn’t used to because you don’t cry, especially in front of others, not when you found out you were pregnant, not when you walked into Jungkook’s apartment only to walk out of his life. Not when Jungkook skipped graduation and left early for the US.

Everything changed after Jungwon’s birth. It’s like all the tears you never cried decided it was time. And you had years’ worth of it.

“Your kid’s a lot more perceptive than you think. He tells me sometimes that he sees you cry when you’re in bed or when you’re watching TV with him, and why else would you be crying if it wasn’t for that man?”

Of course he does. Jungwon, again just like his father, is thoughtful and pays you a lot of attention. Seriously, what about you did this kid inherit?

“The dam breaks every once in a while, I can’t help it.”

“Now you can,” Taehyung says as he gives you a hug. “You should talk to him. And soon. You know he deserves it.”

Jungkook stares at the ceiling, unwilling to move from the comforts of his bed. Head throbbing from the bottles of SoJu he downed with his older cousin, Jin, last night, the events of the day before are mighty clear in his mind.

He’d really seen you, the woman who once laid residence in his mind and his heart that he could not get rid of no matter how hard he tried, because you’d broken every possible thing you could when you decided to break up all those years ago.

He remembers that night so clearly, how he’d been excited to finally spend time with you so he could ask you to go with him to the US. You chose to break his heart instead, deciding by yourself that it wouldn’t work out. The only reason he agreed was because he’d been too hurt to even think of another way, but whether he agreed or not, he knew you would’ve walked out of his life regardless.

But there you were yesterday, dressed in your favorite-colored down jacket, hair longer than he remembers, little kid in tow calling you Mama.

Mama.

He’d just gotten back in Seoul after a visit to his mother. He’d made sure to be sneaky, as he wanted some peace and quiet before all the interviews and events he’ll need to attend because of this “homecoming” that everybody seemed to be making a big deal out of.

He was doing well with the LA Dodgers, even had meetings and possible offers with the Boston Red Sox, the team his father obsessed over. Jungkook was well on his way for bigger things in the largest baseball league in the world.

He decided to sign with the Doosan Bears instead, not even his hometown baseball team. He’ll chalk it up to missing home, maybe breaking ground so he can play in the Olympics, too, just like his father.

He was gonna seek you out, that was definitely part of the plan. He still considers the breakup as partly one-sided and he wanted to know how you were doing. He also knew he was bound to run into you because there was no escaping your circle of friends, who apparently seemed clueless as well.

Except for Taehyung, obviously, because he’s your best friend and he definitely would’ve known. But you’re here in Seoul, how did you dodge the rest of them? And Namjoon had really been able to keep everything a secret?

There were so many questions. Jin took it upon himself to be his confidante last night because surprisingly, Jimin, his best friend, had been mum about it. Jungkook and Jin spent the rest of last night scouring through social media for any trace of you and that kid but there had been none.

Jungkook is desperate, not just because he wants to see you but the child… looked like him.

The grocery was a few neighborhoods away from his, but it was next to the bank he was in so he decided to just do his shopping then. He’d been going through the sweets aisle, ready to fill the pantry of his new apartment with his favorite snacks, then he heard a thump and a soft quivering voice.

He turned to see a little boy looking sad over his toy airplane whose one wing had been clipped off. An adult didn’t seem to be around and he definitely trusts himself more than any other stranger so he’d approached the kid and asked if he needed help.

Curious doe-eyes met his questioning gaze, until the little kid took the airplane and its broken wing in his arms and cradled them.

“It’s hurt,” the kid had said, and he felt his heart burst at the cuteness and softness of this child. Jungkook took the toy and easily fixed it, the sliding slot probably too hard for his little hands to maneuver. He was about to ask for the kid’s name when he heard a familiar voice call out, the kid looking up and scurrying away from him.

And then there was you.

Everything felt hazy until the kid called you his Mama. You’d picked him up and started walking away before Jungkook could even greet you. He’d seen your abandoned grocery basket, which he could easily pass up as his own because of the same things he’d buy for himself.

The wheels were turning in his head and it wasn’t until the kid, apparently named Jungwon, stated his age that Jungkook pieced everything together. Or at least the possibility.

Could Jungwon be his child?

At the thought of this, Jungkook froze, watched your figure disappear from his sight, the eyes of the child boring into him as you walked away again. The kid let out a small smile and Jungkook had seen enough pictures of himself as a little kid in the news the past few weeks to be reminded of how he looked like, and he looked like that. It was unmistakable.

The scene plays in his head again and Jungkook feels the throbbing of his chest match the throbbing of his head, the need to confirm his suspicions and know the whole truth seeping through his veins. He tries to calm himself down, which is difficult, but he knows he needs a level-head if the truth is what he wants from you.

It’s just past lunchtime and he calls Jimin for help. As he enters the passenger seat, Jimin asks his friend for the destination.

“Take me to Taehyung’s place.”

Jungkook is running on adrenaline. With a sober mind now and a still-aching chest, he’s willing his body to relax but he’s unable, focused only on finding the truth.

There’s concern and an air of acceptance in Taehyung’s face when he opens the door to Jungkook, the idea of him showing up here having something that Taehyung has considered. Jungkook has at least half a mind to reach out to someone else before going to you.

Taehyung welcomes him in, knowing better not to argue or match the other man’s emotions. Jungkook doesn’t ask questions though and instead heads for the refrigerator, bites his lips at the sight of the same brand of banana milk he’d seen in your grocery basket.

He walks around the apartment, not missing the small basket of toys by the window. He opens a room that’s actually Taehyung’s art room and sees a paint set for kids, a framed photo of him with Jungwon placed on a shelf and next to it is a painting, the words “Jeon Jungwon” written at the bottom. It’s all the confirmation that he needs.

“Find what you’re looking for?” Taehyung asks, arms on his waist now, a bit of annoyance seeping through at the disrespect being shown to him. He gets that Jungkook is upset, but Taehyung knows him, knows he’s probably coming up with his own conclusions in his mind.

Before Jungkook could say anything, they hear the front door open, Namjoon’s deep voice calling out.

“Tae, did you get to drop off the groceries at ___’s? Jungwon’s been asking for his milk since yesterday and—” Namjoon stops as he stands by the door, eyes wide at Jungkook standing there, no doubt trying to keep himself together.

“Are you Jungwon’s father now?” He directs the question to Taehyung, the bitterness in Jungkook’s voice not lost on all the men present, including Jimin who’d been having his own battle in his mind because pretty soon, the anger will be directed at him, too.

Jungkook is the kid’s father, he’s sure of it now, yet the thought of another man taking that role causes an ache in his chest.

“Jungwon sleeps here? Does art with you? Does he call you—”

“He calls Tae ‘uncle,’ Jungkook. The same thing he calls me,” Jimin says, essentially coming out.

“You knew? This whole time?” Jungkook yells, fists clenched as the anger builds.

“Just a few years ago but—”

“And you said nothing to me?”

“It was just 2 years ago.”

“And you’ve visited me twice a year since then and you never thought to tell me that I have a son…” Jungkook flinches at the word, unbelieving that it’s something he’d even say.

“Look, just calm down, okay?” Jimin tries, but he knows it won’t do much.

“Calm down? I’m fucking livid. I have a…” Jungkook stops himself, willing the tears not to fall. All this time, you had a child that you’d kept from him, without a care of how he would feel.

“Jungkook, just take a breath, yeah?” Namjoon says this time, walking towards the younger man and pulls him in for a hug. “It’s a lot, I know. But just breathe for a bit.”

Jungkook pulls away, a mix of anger and sadness in his eyes. “How could she keep this from me?”

“Only she can answer that,” Namjoon sighs.

“I need to see her,” Jungkook states after a long pause.

“I can ask when she’s free—” Taehyung offers, ready to get his phone.

“I need to see her now.”

Jungkook finds himself in Jimin’s car, with Taehyung in the backseat talking to you over the phone, saying that he’ll take Jungwon for the rest of the afternoon and that they’re on their way.

Jungkook listens to Taehyung talk to you with so much care, the way he always had all those years ago. Nothing has changed, really.

Back in college, people tried to keep their distance from you, afraid of your resting bitch face and usually cold demeanor. Jungkook had heard about you from Jin, a good friend of your brother’s, and couldn’t quite reconcile the incredibly friendly and gentle Taehyung as your best friend.

It was one of the things that intrigued Jungkook, and he’d find out later on, after pulling all the stops with his flirting and finally getting you to agree on a coffee date, that you really did have a bitch face and you were cold if you wanted to be.

But you were so unapologetically you that it was refreshing. It wasn’t a defense mechanism or anything, it was just really who you were, but that wasn’t everything about you - you were also caring, protective, generous, extremely hardworking, and very confident.

Jungkook had fallen in love faster than he could throw a baseball, and he knows he can throw past 90/mph.

You complemented each other so beautifully that fights were easily resolved, if any, dates were always exciting, and moments together were never boring, even if it was just you quietly working on a paper and him noisily studying his games.

Taehyung was relentless in befriending you and you caved in pretty easily. “Look at the smile,” you’d said once. “Who can resist that?” You always had a soft spot for your best friend and Jungkook never minded; he’d trusted your relationship and you when you said that he never had to worry about Taehyung.

Except now. Because Taehyung seems to be a father figure to his son, being what Jungwon had needed all these years, while Jungkook had been clueless about it.

The night you broke up with him, you left him a weeping mess and begging behind closed doors to please don’t go. He felt he’d lost a big part of him, felt the soul-crushing feeling of losing someone again.

The loss of you was something he couldn’t prepare for and he’d spent years trying to put the pieces again, all on his own, in a foreign country, while chasing his dream. It had been hard but after some time, he rationalized in his mind that maybe you were right, maybe it would’ve been very hard for the both of you given the distance, the time difference, the busy schedules. It wouldn’t have been fair; he’d accepted that.

But keeping his child from him like this? This is too much. This is ruthless. You made a decision again. All by yourself. And he’s angry.

Everyone is thankful that Jungwon is asleep, although it’s a chance for Jungkook to see the little one in slumber, looking like the most adorable boy in the world.

Jimin and Taehyung agree to leave first, Jungkook not wanting them to wait, although he’s unsure how long this conversation with you is going to last.

You’ve been pacing back and forth since Taehyung called, informing you of the impromptu visit and Jungkook being unrelenting in his decision to speak with you today. You would’ve wanted to wait, although you know that Tae is right - Jungkook needs to know as soon as possible; he deserves that much.

In your more than 2 years together, you barely saw Jungkook angry - that was more of your thing because he enjoyed annoying the hell out of you every time and you always gave him shit for it.

But you two barely fought - you understood his busy schedule and were never really the jealous type, despite the presence of his “fans” (except maybe around Sora who’d named herself as the president of Jungkook’s fan club like that shit still flies), while Jungkook always knew how to make it up to you. He rarely complained, too if you ditched him to work on your projects.

But this Jungkook is different - his nostrils are flaring, brows are furrowed, jaws are clenched you’re afraid he’d break his teeth.

You’re different, too. You’re nervous, more reserved, not with your usual crossed arms but with fingers fidgeting at the loss of control.

You lead him in the living room and motion for him to sit down but he dismisses you.

“Hi, Jung—”

“I need to hear it from you,” he breathes out. “I know, god, I fucking know but I need to hear it from you.”

You take a deep breath and you say the words you’ve practiced in your head. “Jungwon is our son.”

You see him close his eyes, bite his lips, and tilt his head. It’s how you know he’s trying to control his emotions.

The silence is deafening but you give him time to process.

“How? I mean, you were on birth control and you said you never missed…” He stammers.

“Pills are not 100%, Jungkook. It just happened,” you explain, racking your brain for days right after you took the test over how it might’ve happened. At one point you stopped; it was no use.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It’s the big question, the one he’s been losing his mind over. It doesn’t matter that it happened; he just doesn’t know how you could make that big of a decision all on your own when it concerned him, the other half of the child.

“You were on your way to the big leagues. I couldn’t take that away from you.”

“But you thought it was alright to take away years with my son?” He seethes. “Fuck, ___. That wasn’t your decision to make.”

It wasn’t, not fully at least, you knew it. But he wouldn’t make that decision, so you had to.

“I made it anyway,” you respond, tone more stern now.

With all the pain and struggles it brought, it’s the one thing you stand by; it’s a decision you never regretted. Watching Jungkook play in the ballparks his dad never got to take him to, seeing him blow a kiss to the sky before and after every game, and catching him mouth the words ‘I love you, dad’ after his interviews have always been enough to trump everything else.

Jungkook had been living his and his father’s dream. It had always felt worth it.

“Why? I would’ve stayed,” Jungkook yells.

“Exactly. You would’ve,” you yell back. “I was sure that the moment you knew, you would’ve passed up a dream you worked your whole life for. I couldn’t let you do that. I couldn’t let you make that decision.”

“So you made it for me, by giving me none at all?” He scoffs. “Real brave, ___. And real fucked up, too.”

“It was the only way for you to go!” You exclaim. “If you had known, you wouldn’t have left, you would’ve settled, stayed behind… You would’ve given everything up.”

“Because that’s our child, ___!”

“And we didn’t plan on having him!” You shout, tears prickling on the corners of your eyes now.

“You’ve known baseball your whole life, Jungkook. Everything you’ve ever done was so you could play in the MLB and you did. You made it happen because you had the best opportunity and you took it, worked hard, got to where you wanted to be,” you rationalize.

He’s panting as he processes your words, mind going again to that night when you walked out on him, making sense of the reasons why, those you verbalized and those you didn’t.

“I know you, Jungkook,” you sigh, your voice taking him back to the present. “You’d take responsibility because that’s the kind of man you are. You would’ve insisted on taking care of us, on letting go of everything else for us, for your son. And I couldn’t let you give up on your dream, the one thing left of your father…”

“Don’t you fucking dare bring up my father,” he snaps at you, eyes so cold and you feel so small.

“You wouldn’t have forgiven yourself if you let that dream go for us.”

“Then you don’t really know me, ___. Because the hell would I give us up just like that. The hell would I give up time away from my son.”

He pulls his hair out of frustration, then lets go, tears now streaming down his face.

“I was 14 when I lost my dad, ___.”

“I know, and I’m sorry—”

“No, you don’t know. And you aren’t sorry,” he retorts, his back facing you as he tries to get himself together. “I had to watch him wither away, had to stay by his bedside and watch him take his final breath because my mother couldn’t. I was 14 and I had to be strong for my parents. And I cried, every single night, for months,” he heaves.

He turns to face you, wants you to know how much you’ve hurt him.

“I almost quit school because I wouldn’t get out of my bed, wouldn’t talk to anyone. I told you I suffered, that I lost my way,” he continues, weeping.

But you didn’t know this, didn’t know he suffered like this, that he lost his way like this.

“But the dream kept you going, didn’t it?” You try. “It gave you purpose; you had something to live for, Jungkook,” you continue, reminding him of what the dream meant to him.

He’d been young but he had so many memories with his father about baseball; it had been the core of their relationship, the thread that kept them connected years after his death.

“In return for what?” He barks. “Fuck, I would’ve given anything to have my father again. And that includes that dream, ___.”

You stare at him, his body now crouching down on the couch, unable to fully lift himself up. You’d never seen him like this. He was never afraid to cry but this is different.

Your own tears are relentless, as if telling you that this is all because of you and you deserve this pain. You had broken this man, and you’d done so without regret.

He looks up at you, wipes his tear-drenched face, illuminating the pain, the longing, the anger.

“You took four years of my life away from my son. You robbed me of that chance. You didn’t even give me a choice. How fucking selfish are you? You had no right, ___,” he huffs.

“I just… I know you, Jungkook. You would’ve stayed and then what?” You say, trying to stand your ground, but even you don’t believe your words, at least not anymore.

“You’ll regret it down the road? Resent us because you had to stay? How would we feel? How would Jungwon feel, knowing that his father gave up his dream for him?”

“Really? You’re absolutely sure that’s what would happen? As if I’m not resenting you now?” Jungkook scoffs.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have someone be taken from you, to not have enough time with them. But yeah, you need to have the last say always, right?” He says coldly, allowing the silence to let you take in his bitter words.

“You can’t ever feel like you don’t have control so you make all the decisions by yourself. Hurting those in your wake before they hurt you. But it’s all good right because you stand by it? As long as it’s enough to rid you of the guilt even if it hurts everyone else?”

This is how he hurts you - peeling away your layers and throwing them back at you, until there’s nothing left but all the parts you didn’t want anyone to see. But Jungkook had seen them, accepted them, loved you despite them.

But he’s standing in front of you. And there’s no love in his eyes. You don’t think you deserve it anymore.

You give him this, the last say. And he takes it. And he leaves.

Like countless times before, you fall to the floor and cry. You cry until your sounds are loud enough, until you can no longer hear your own heart breaking.

Taglist: @fluffyjoons @jwlmnbt @koremis @mrcleanheichou @kooafraid @purplepommy @btstannies @jeonwiixard @songshin @joondala @hobiade @di0rgguk @fan-ati--c @yn-the-reader @spicybangtanwings @njkbangtan @jeoncookie-bts @miniaturecloud @revehosh @preciouschimine @sherlynxx @dimreads

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #parents au #exes au #baseball player jk #inevitable #series

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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 3 years

Note

happy 200! i’m so glad to see your blog grow, it’s one of my favorites and i adore all your writing. i’ve never cried so much and i love the kind of unsettling feeling you write in your fics, it’s perfect in the category of yandere and dark content. in particular, i loved your drabble about shigaraki mourning over a dead reader and i’ve reread that one too many times to count haha! as for asks for headcannons and drabbles, it would be amazing to see that with bully!eren especially since he was such an awful person to the reader. i’d love to see him suffer honestly, but if you don’t want to write it, that’s completely fine! once again, i’m so proud of you for hitting 200! that’s such a huge milestone and hopefully, there will be many more in the future! :)

SYNOPSIS: bully!Eren has to navigate the world without you.

Pairing: Bully!Eren x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even explain in words how much I CHEESED at this message like my grin was ear to ear. can't explain how many times I read this. It singlehandedly made my day anon, and to repay you for my happiness....here is some angst. this is a slightly different route than the shiggy one but I hope it still suits you <3

TW: mentions of death, past dubcon/noncon, mentions of trauma, bullying, alcohol addiction, drunk driving, abusive behavior, revenge porn, nonconsensual photography/videography, mentions of infidelity, angst, so much of angst, violent behavior

WC: 2.5k

It's not like Eren had been doing a lot of soul-searching. He's not delusional enough to label his half-assed epiphany of "maybe I'm a shitty person" as soul searching.

It's just the conversation with his very sick mother burned holes through the back of his mind. Carla had asked about you and why you don't come by the house anymore. How she missed baking with you in the kitchen, and how you sweetly smiled whenever you would see soft creamy peaks form in the meringue.

Eren felt like he was swallowing needles as he assured his mother with false truths, that nothing was going on and distance between childhood friends is natural, and if it means so much--ok ok he'll bring you over.

He stays until he sees her chest slowly rising and falling into a gentle asleep. He touches the tip of his ears, unsurprised by how hot it was.

Eren, when you tell a lie, the tips of your ears turn red.

You're not at school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Guilt is not an emotion he feels often but the events of the past weekend replay in his mind. It was just a dumb party that Floch threw, and he was surprised to find you cornered by a trio of thee dunderheads. Like a distorted fairytale, he swept you away from the bad guys like a knight in shining armor, to only shove you in an empty room and demand compensation for playing hero.

Fuck, with that big mouth, you would think that you'd know how to suck cock.

Use your tongue stupid slut. If you use teeth, I'll shove this dick in your ass without any prep.

No, I don't care, you're taking all of it.

There's a video on his camera roll. How could he not record it? You're sobbing, mascara running down your cheeks, looking so beautiful and ruined with jizz smeared at the corner of your mouth. He was brutally fucking your mouth, making you take all of his length.

Breathe through your nose dumb whore. Or else you're gonna run out of air.

You were pleading with whatever garbled sounds you were constricted into producing.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren is conflicted with muting the video because he can't stand to hear himself like that. But he didn't want to miss out on your pitiful whines.

He remembers the distraught expression on your face when he was finally done with you. He tucked himself inside, and sneered, "I've got a girl coming here. Get lost." You looked so fucking distraught. Why? All he did was make you suck his dick. He didn't even fuck you.

He should have. Eren thinks grimly when he stares at your empty desk on the first day you didn't show up to school. He's gotten off to the video more than enough times than he can count over the weekend, and he was aching to see your pretty face twisted into a terrorized expression when he flipped up your skirt to grope your ass.

Kindly, Eren decides he'd allow you to have a rest day. But the second day, Eren pays a visit to your house finding it dark and locked, like no one was home and hadn't been there for a while.

On the third day, you're declared missing.

Your incompetent workaholic mother who finally came home and decided to give a damn reported you missing to the authorities who had scratched their heads because as far as they knew, the pivotal 72 hours were up.

Paradis was surrounded by forests. No one wanted to say it, but they were all thinking it. If you got lost in there, chances are you wouldn't make it out.

Eren wasn't always this admired and fawned over. He had his fair share of behavioral issues that frightened people (not you though, not then at least, not when you were children, and you still came back every day to play).

But when he channeled that anger into sports, there was somewhat of a star in the making, especially for some small-town boy. He was becoming extremely popular, and that's nice and all, but at the end of the day, he has a mother whose health was taking a sharp decline. He was constantly under stress, stress that he took out on you.

Where did his favorite stress-ball go?

It's all fucking surreal. Having detectives in the school. Not that there were many students to question (because christ, did you even have any friends after Eren turned everyone against you?).

Eren was questioned. He can't help but mirthfully chuckle. Maybe this was your grand plan, maybe you were able to finally sort out a mountain of evidence against him. If you were going to fuck him over, didn't you want to see it happen with your own two eyes?

The dark-haired boy wishes that was true. If you had gotten your revenge, would you be here? No, revenge isn't the right word. If you got any justice for what he made you suffer, would you come back?

Hi, I'm Detective Hange. I would like to ask you some questions today. You're Eren Yeager, right?

Yes, that's me.

How do you know ___?

We were childhood friends. We're uh, we're not as close anymore.

When was the last time you saw her?

Friday night at Floch's party-

-Floch Forster right? There were a number of kids there from your school.

Yeah. It was a big party. She uh, doesn't usually come to parties but she was there that night.

You were the last person to be seen with her. Other kids have said that they saw you and her entering a room together, and then only her leaving the said room.

[Sigh] Yeah we sorta...hooked up.

I thought you said you guys weren't close anymore.

You can be not close to someone and still hook up with them.

But you guys were close once right?

Yeah. Once.

The dark-haired boy asks if he was under any suspicion. The detective waves their hand in a dismissive gesture, “If her diary tells us anything, it’s only that she really liked you.”

Were detectives even allowed to divulge that sort of information? Eren doesn’t know but the stray detail that they offered off-handedly made him feel like he was swallowing needles.

At that point, Eren honestly still doesn't believe you're gone. You had a habit of running away, even when you were little kids, but you always came back.

Still, he participates in the search parties with a renewed vigor, even going alone in the forest with a flashlight on most nights.

And he's just so fucking tired. The darkest crevice of his mind almost wishes you were dead because this ignorance was just agony. Almost. Because he still clings to the feeling that one day, he’ll stroll into class and find you in your seat in the back of the class, looking out the window like some cliche shojo manga protagonist.

There are folders and folders on his phone. Albums. The most recent one is dedicated to your crying face as you were choking on his dick. Earlier albums are composed of creepshots of your panties, of that obscene o-face, of your skirt flipped up and your ass cheeks, pictures of your cleavage, videos of you thrashing as he dunked your head into toilets like a villainous middle school bully.

Pictures of your neck covered in hickeys, your naked breasts, ass cheeks striped with red after getting spanked, your leaking cunt, just endless and endless media dedicated to pieces and pieces of your body like you were never a whole person.

The earliest ones though tell a different tale, from off-guards to your drooling face as you napped in the middle of the day.

He has a favorite picture. Your eyes are watery from the cold, snowflakes stuck between lashes, nose and cheeks flushed red, and you're smiling. Smiling right to the camera. Right at him.

"Eren, are you taking a picture?" You asked, bouncing in place, giddy that it was finally snowing.

"Not of you, shut up. Get out of the way." His voice is gruff but not harsh.

You laughed and jumped into frame anyway, and the bright streetlamp behind you made you seem like you were wearing a halo.

He wishes he had more pictures of you being...yourself. Because now your crying face displayed over countless pixels haunt him. But like a fucking degenerate, he still jerks off to all the nudes he coerced from you. Sometimes he cries when he's jerking off which is probably the most pathetic thing he's ever done. This is what you've reduced him to.

He hates the sound of his own voice.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren goes through the motions of life without really feeling like he's in the moment. Seasons change and time flies. His mother dies, and his withdrawn father dies a year later. He proposes to Mikasa because it's something he was always supposed to do. She loves him unconditionally, so even when he doesn't put any effort into the relationship but proposes, she says yes hoping he'll change and be a good husband.

He doesn't go to his parents' funerals because they're already dead. What's the point. He doesn't visit the candlelight vigils in your honor either. After tearing his ACL again and a somewhat traumatic injury, he kisses his pro-football career goodbye. To be totally honest, he's relieved. Because he had gotten quite bored, and maybe he was looking for excuses to quit the entire time. It's not like you'd be cheering on the bleachers anyways.

Mikasa has an affair, more out of a desire to see her fiancé feel something for her as opposed to any burning lust. But when she asks him if he's ever cared at all, with tears springing out of her eyes, he's just calmly drinking his fifth of whisky.

The dark-haired man doesn't even look up, "Let's break up."

"Is this about her, huh? Fucking get over it already Eren. She's GONE. And you have some big fucking audacity moping about her death like you weren't making her cry in the bathroom stalls every fucking day you piece of shit."

"Get out."

"You know what, I bet she killed herse-"

SMASH

The dark-haired woman doesn't finish her rant because the whiskey bottle smashes on the wall next to her head, sending glass everywhere and staining the carpet amber. She's unharmed, knowing it wasn't Eren's intention to hit her but Jesus Christ, what a monster.

She packs her bags and leaves the town like she should have a long time ago. All her friends had left years before and she stayed behind because that's where Eren was. She thanks her lucky stars that they didn't marry.

It's funny because he had always imagined himself being the first to move out of their small town, but he's the one staying. He can't leave this place. feels too tethered to ever leave. Every diner and liquor store is saturated with memories of you. He remembers buying cigarettes and exhaling the smoke to your face to piss you off in empty parking lots.

Maybe he stays in case you'll come back.

Eren's days consist of alcohol-fueled hazes. He doesn't know how his liver is still functioning. He doesn't know he's still alive after crashing his car into a tree when he was drunk out of his mind. He was on his way to get some more vodka.

He barely recognizes himself in the mirror anymore, not that he looks at himself much. His hair is long, nestled around his shoulder because he couldn't be bothered to cut it, dark circles under viridian eyes, and a perpetual stubble on his jaw.

His parents had left quite a sizable inheritance so there's no need to work but he's good with his hands. Likes crafting up birdhouses and cabinets, and occasionally does odd jobs around the neighborhood, never charging the elderly.

He's under the sink, tinkering with a wrench against the pipes when he hears the old lady coo at him.

"We're so lucky to have you Eren. I'm surprised a handsome young man like yourself doesn't have a special lady. The girls must be lining up at your door!"

The dark-haired man winces, and offers no comment, knowing that that the older lady was susceptible to long tangents.

"You know, we're getting a new neighbor." Eren grunts as a response. "They're young, I've heard. Isn't that exciting? Oh my, Eren! I think they're gonna be living in the house right next to yours..."

He tunes out the rest of the conversation because doesn't really care. He just hopes his new neighbors are quiet.

It's Sunday noon when obnoxious noises of moving trucks and people wake him up from his deep slumber. Eren's annoyed to wake up despite the fact he's probably been sleeping over 15 hours. He oscillates between getting too much sleep and getting none, his sleeping habits completely dependent on his dreams.

His nightmares are too visceral, visions of your corpse asking him if he'd enjoyed hollowing your soul with his teeth.

His dreams are achingly sweet. You in your prom gown, shining so iridescently like diamonds were sewn into the silk. He's dancing with you, holding you close, and then after you guys go to your favorite diner and gorge on burgers and milkshakes.

There's a peal of distinctly feminine laughter that stirs up Eren's senses. He's so pathetic, was the mere sound of a woman laughing getting him excited?

He sighs. He thinks of the whore he's frequently visited because of her resemblance to you. Hair color, skin color, face shape--with enough alcohol, he could really convince the person beneath him, was you. Maybe it's time to give her a call, but she's gotten so fucking needy and he hated how her voice didn't match yours.

The green-eyed man peers from the lace curtains, irritated by the brats playing on his lawn. A full family next door? Great, just what he needs.

The friendly knock on his door breaks him out of his daze. He contemplates whether he should answer but on the second more muted knock, he lets his feet guide him.

He turns the knob.

And Eren Yeager completely shatters.

Because it's you isn't it? You're the person standing in front of him? He can hear what you're saying but he doesn't really register it, soaking in the cadence of a voice he had long forgotten because all he had were pleading whimpers and frenzied moans stored on his cell.

He's shaking. Is he dreaming? He's dreaming, right? He knows it's you. You're older, far more beautiful than he's ever seen you. You have a different hairstyle, wearing clothes he would have mocked you for, and there's this joyfulness within you that makes you glow.

There's a mess of emotions electrifying in the pits of his stomach from euphoria, anger, and dread. He could feel his skin growing clammy like he was about to vomit at any second.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Doe eyes full of concern peer up at him. He voices out the syllables of your name like a desperate prayer.

You tilt your head to the side, "How do you know my name?"

#eren yeager x reader #bully eren yeager #toxic eren #eren yeager x you #yandere eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #dubcon tw #tw noncon #tw abuse #tw drinking #tw drunk driving #eren yeager fanfiction #dark content #dark fic #tw trauma #tw depr

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h2obased · 2 years

Text

Another Word For Surveillance - Part Three

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You asked Bucky out. He said no. Cool. So how do you move on from that? Ha! You don’t.

Notes & Warnings:

Fluff, swearing, innuendos, canon typical violence (a smidge), light angst, pining lotsa pining

I don’t give permission for my work to be copied/reposted/translated anywhere.

Word Count: 4,914 (yup, take a glass of water with you)

Series Chapters

Another Word For Surveillance - Part Three

The next time you saw each other, Bucky threw a standard issue nod, curt, more distracted than annoyed, which is to say it’s exactly the kind of greeting you want. It’s reassuring in its ordinariness.

You saluted him from your favorite spot in all of G3, a steel bench with a wooden back across the building you worked out of. There was a plan to develop this side of the street, but luckily the powers that be (Pepper) opted to keep the lot vacant and the seat remained the lone structure in the field. You sat there to enjoy the breeze and the space to think, only limited by the sky above. The only complaint you had were the armrests that prevented you from lying down for naps during breaks.

Bucky disappeared inside the building with Natasha. You nursed your iced coffee until it became a lukewarm beverage before heading in yourself.

Operation First Resort, also known as the time you asked him out on a date, never came up again. Not in conversation at least.

Bucky’s discipline of speaking only when necessary greatly helped matters although his eyes communicated more than you could ever fathom. They were like a lost language. Haunted, beautiful, practically arcane. If he ever thought about that evening as often as you did - it’s just your wishful thinking.

You also excelled at pretending it never happened, although it didn’t mean you stopped having feelings for your favorite brunette super soldier. To compensate for ranking him number one, you made it a point to ask Sam in passing about collegiate level football and the NFL draft. When Natasha approached you about tracking down a Russian prisoner during your personal time, you didn’t hesitate to help her. Steve was a little harder to crack - maybe centenarians really were your weak spot - but he always received a fresh pack of yellow post-its everytime you sent him a plan to review.

At any point in the past few months you could have found some other emotionally distant, square-jawed heartbreaker. You could walk into any law enforcement office, S.H.I.E.L.D. included, and find one before getting past security. That wasn’t your persuasion though. You doubled down on that crush as if it were a dare and your parents raised you to not be a quitter.

Why stop at crushing on the geezer who jabbed your arm with a manila envelope or the nearest writing implement to get you to look at him, when you can fall in love with said geezer instead?

You don’t like me back? Pffft, let me love you anyway.

You were headstrong when you needed to be - you wouldn’t have landed this coveted analyst gig otherwise - but for the most part, you were more of a “go with the flow, path of least resistance” type. For nearly a year, you handled this situation by not doing a damn thing about it.

All you had to do was hunker down. Bucky was a force of nature. Your best bet was to sit still and endure the beautiful devastation.

In the back of your mind, you knew this - your altered state - would pass. He would start dating again at some point and that would effectively, forcibly serve as the cease and desist order your stubborn mind awaited. He might get assigned a permanent post in Europe. He could come back with a gorgeous partner who was amazing in bed and in the kitchen, with their adorable dimpled kids, who’d speak at least three languages and know judo.

Or maybe you’d always hold a place for him in your heart, and you would do it from a respectable distance and keep that piece of information to yourself. Theoretically speaking, as long as you keep your emotions under lock and key, you can continue to live with liking Bucky a little too much for years and years.

That was the plan. Granted, if this were an actual Avenger-level mission, your plan would never get the green light from the operations floor.

In your line of work, “hero helpline” as you described it to your mother, variables signified risks. Any element prone to change must be taken off the board or mitigated. The only pieces in play must be ones you control. Risks must be reduced to the point where the consequences are more acceptable. Like blowing up a room instead of a building. Taking a punch to the face instead of getting stabbed in the back.

Your approach to handling these Bucky-related feelings relied entirely on your ability to behave professionally and make rational decisions. This plan wasn’t just objectively bad; it was reactive and worse, reckless.

As Sam would say about half-baked mission ideas: “Is it a suicide mission? You know that shit gets people killed right? Just checking.”

Your plan guaranteed hurt feelings. Yours, specifically, but you were the one who insisted on acting like you weren’t into Bucky anymore.

In the weeks that followed his reinstatement as a field agent, bringing up the encounter felt pointless. Then the weeks turned to months and it seemed even more unnecessary to revisit history.

You were just as much as an expert in picking up where you and Bucky left off. At some point, he became your primary candy supplier because he consumed at least a third of your stash at work. He claimed he shared them with Sam and Wanda anyway.

“Rogers is too good for Skittles now?”

“He prefers peanut butter.” He pretended not to catch the sarcasm.

“I’m not keeping peanut butter at my desk.” You huffed at the absurdity. You’d forgotten what the argument was about in the first place. Unreasonable snack requests? Candy not mysteriously disappearing from a locked drawer?

Claire watched these exchanges with “I told you so” written on her face.

It was not expedient to entertain Claire’s theories. Not because you worried about things getting out of hand. Things were already out of hand since your heart decided to love Bucky unprompted, despite the hundred-percent assurance of non reciprocation. Talk about getting these wayward feelings.

You didn’t want to encourage talk of nonsense to protect the one thing you and Bucky shared.

It may not be based on years of saving each other in schoolyard fights and battlefields or embarking on international hi-jinks in the name of freedom; it’s a friendship grown from the trenches of Grid 3, Building A, Third Floor, Operations Analytics Wing.

On behalf of desk workers around the world, you’d argue that there was solidarity created from helping each other keep a straight face when a colleague spouts bullshit to get picked for a leadership position or from covering for each other, like when Bucky ran into you pacing up and down the hall, teary-eyed because of a phone call. Without asking questions, he offered to handle your afternoon meetings so you can step out of the office for a while.

Your office-based camaraderie was just as valid as any bond formed elsewhere. You were determined to hang onto it, with fierce fingers clamped around the neck of this friendship. Frankly speaking, that’s all you’d ever have with Bucky.

You acknowledged the underlying desperation too. The fear of losing him to the messiness of emotions. Other than grin and bear it, there wasn’t much you could do that wouldn’t complicate matters for both of you.

Maintaining the status quo ensured you stayed friends. But how were you expected to keep business as usual, when variables begin to shift?

Weeks after the mission that caused the temporary closure of the Alexander Hamilton bridge just outside the Bronx, Bucky spotted you and Claire returning to your desks from a conference call. He beckoned to you from a meeting room. No smiles, no hello’s, a fairly regular “I need to talk to you” signal from the guy.

“Wonder why Blue Steel wants to get you alone?” Claire asked, batting her lashes at you.

You threw your alleged friend a dirty look and hissed, “Do the words ‘enhanced hearing’ mean nothing to you Chavez?”

She only giggled and pushed you toward the room where Bucky waited. “Hey, if he’s got you food from Vic’s again, can I have it?”

“Seriously CC?” You rolled your eyes but your friend was already waving goodbye, not even looking at you as she walked away. You watched her turn into a corner. After a quick check of the hallway, you headed to Bucky’s meeting room, pausing at the door to knock.

He looked up from his phone and brushed the hair off his face with the finesse of a four year-old. Your heart skipped at least a couple of beats; there was something endearing about the childlike gesture from one of the grumpiest people on earth. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? No, you’ve had what, three by now? How about water?” He maneuvered around the desk and quickly pulled out a chair for you.

“You’re in my building, feel like I should be the one offering you something to drink.” You didn’t even wince at the reminder of your “no thank you let’s not” driveway chat. It’s been months since his send off at the bar, but recalling the exchange came easily to you.

“Boss said I get pantry privileges.” He shrugged as if access to your wing’s kitchen was a big deal.

“I think it has more to do with you being an Avenger than being her former direct report. Sorry to burst your bubble.” You contained a smile by biting on your lip. It was too easy to carry on with Bucky like this, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“No, it’s because I’m her favorite. Still.” He responded with round, serious blue orbs staring you down, daring you to prove him wrong.

Of course you would correct him because you were a sucker for punishment. “Well, I beg to disagree, because I’m the favorite.” You manage to keep a steady hand while dusting imaginary dirt off your shoulder.

“Can’t win with you.” He threw his hands up but there was a hint of laughter in his eyes. He’d give you that much. “To think I came here hoping you’ll help a guy out.” The Vibranium hand clicked against wood when he drummed his fingers on the table.

You leaned back into the seat, not to relax but to put some distance between the two of you. Otherwise, you might forget to breathe.

Bucky handed you his battered smartphone after a beat. Silver duct tape ran along the back and edges of the phone, allowing him to grip the sleek device better.

You narrowed your eyes at the scratched screen. “What exactly am I looking at?” You zoomed in on a washed out photo of a heap of trousers and jackets on a bed.

“Suits. Gotta pick one,” he grumbled.

Did you even want to know if it was for? Jury duty? A date? Funeral?

He shifted in his seat. “Pepper’s fundraising thing on Friday. Steve’s loaning me a suit. Dumped five of them in my room today. What the hell does that clown need five suits for?”

Bucky’s existential crisis over formal wear wasn’t unexpected. You didn’t remember seeing him in anything other than tactical gear or hoodies and jackets. You wouldn’t be surprised if he slept in his jeans.

Yeah, you’ve thought about sleeping arrangements every now and then.

“Oh you know - jury duty, dates…” What else did Steve do outside of his 9 to 5 saving the world gig? “Press interviews and events, that kind of thing.”

“I guess.” Bucky hung his head as he listened to you list life events he didn’t have the slightest interest in. “Can you pick one?”

“Why?” You’d worn suits before but that didn’t make you an expert on fashion.

“They all look the same to me and you - you always dress ok,” he replied, eyeing you in a clinical way. “I mean, that and that, they go together.” Bucky gesticulated wildly, pointing to random parts of your body.

“Oh so my black boots match the black top and black trousers? Thanks?” You responded, suddenly feeling self conscious about your go-to office attire.

He threw his head back and exhaled. There was a little bit of Steve in the drama of it all. For a second you thought he’d say something about “being too old for this shit.” He caught the giggle you attempted to pass off as a cough. “Are you gonna help or am I gonna have to talk to someone else about a stupid suit?”

“Ok, ok, but can you take another photo because I can’t tell the difference looking at this.” You returned his phone. “Stand with your back to the window when you take pictures. Or better yet, hold them against your body and get Steve or Sam to take photos.”

Bucky rapped his knuckles on the table. “That is not happening. We can have a look at them now.” You sensed a whoosh behind you when he eased out of his chair and reached the doorway in seconds. “Come on. They’re in my room.”

You’d never been inside G5 before. The only people you knew who’d ever stepped foot in that sector were people who lived there. A field dotted by trees, and rumor has it, Happy’s booby traps, separated the grid from the rest of the compound. Visitors have to be personally escorted by a resident to gain access to the apartments.

Pattern shifts implied change, moving variables you were trained to squash with haste.

“Uh, can’t leave in the middle of the workday.” Your eloquence was something else.

Of course the prospect of visiting the G5 apartments interested you, but going to Bucky’s room amounted to testing how elastic the friendship boundary was. You never even considered the idea of inviting Bucky to your place before because it was that far out of the realm of possibilities. He didn’t even have your home address.

“It’s nearly 5. Won’t take us half an hour. Promise.” The metal arm whirred, similar to a car ready for the green light. He tapped the doorframe impatiently.

It didn’t have to be this complicated. He asked for your help. He said it won’t take up much of your time.

Bucky stepped into the hallway. “I’ll show you the kitchen. You can raid the pantry.”

Well in that case… “Let me grab my bag.”

His room was predictably neat and sparse, but the first thing you noticed was the faint scent of his shampoo, like he had just gotten out of the shower and had been walking around the room. Aside from the bed, he had a stool that doubled as a bedside table and a screen mounted to the wall. The only things that counted as personal items were the small potted Spider plant from his old desk and a stack of books below the TV.

You immediately catalogued the selection: a mix of genres, but more than half were biographies and science books. He caught you inspecting the titles as you entered the room but he didn’t say anything.

Bucky remained standing by the doorway and watched you take in the room. No narrated tours of where he spent his private time. No explanations as to why the suits were strewn across the bed haphazardly, the only thing out of place in his spick and span living space.

Desperate for something to do, you sorted the suits, matching the items and laying them out separately on the bed. There was a double breasted number while the rest were classic single breasted pieces. You smoothed the lapel of the one closest to you, already picturing Bucky in this jacket. It didn’t require much effort to imagine how handsome he’d be in any of these suits.

“So uh, which one do you like?” He slipped his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not the one wearing the suit Buck.” You turned toward him. “Which one do you like?”

“None of them.” His disdain for formalwear was apparent. He’d been glowering at the suits like they’ve committed a series of petty crimes.

“Have you even tried any of these yet?” You reached for the navy number with the silk lapel.

“We don’t need to do that. Just - please just pick one out.” He was starting to lose his patience. You could tell from the tight jaw and the frantic mechanical sound his arm made when he formed a fist.

“No, you’re trying them on.” You handed him the navy suit, resisting the urge to say something about how it complimented his eyes. That could make him jump out of the window. “Do you have a dress shirt?”

He mumbled under his breath and you didn’t need super hearing abilities to know it was something very close to regret for asking you to come over.

“You dragged my ass here so you have no choice but to do as I say.” You pointed to a black suit. “You’re trying that one next.”

To be fair, Bucky complained but he usually listened to you. The thriving plant in his room was proof of that. He grumbled and dragged his feet but he eventually grabbed a white shirt from his walk-in closet on the way to the bathroom.

Two thuds signaled he kicked his boots off.

“Hey, what about shoes?” You asked.

You heard him shuffling about and grunting behind the door. Oh the drama. “Back of the closet!”

His closet wasn’t huge, although it was still larger than yours, and definitely five times more organised. He only used half of the storage space. You found a pair of black leather Oxfords after looking behind a row of sneakers and boots. The heel was barely scuffed. This could not have been worn more than once and it seemed like it had been recently polished - like the rest of his shoes. As you stepped out of the closet, you noticed a pair of sweatpants folded neatly on its own shelf.

So he didn’t sleep in jeans after all.

Minutes later, a click alerted you to Bucky stepping out of the bathroom. His shirt tuck was sloppy; he had the face of a man approaching a guillotine, but holy shit he looked breathtaking. You’ve never swooned over anything or anyone but Bucky Barnes in a suit made your knees buckle.

“There he is!” You chirped weakly.

He fidgeted, pulling on his collar and stretching his neck. “I look like an asshole.”

“You look, you know, it looks good.” You tugged on his sleeves gently, catching your breath in your throat when your thumb brushed against the back of his hand. It released a jolt through your hand, like he’d been hoarding static electricity the entire day. You immediately cleared your throat, telling yourself to ignore the tingling in your palm. “Um, can you - you have to tuck that shirt in like a commanding officer is about to inspect it… What do you think of the jacket?”

That was a ridiculous question. The lapels rested on his sculpted chest and the suit accentuated broad shoulders you itched to run your hands over.

If he noticed your reaction, Bucky didn’t show it. He focused on fixing his shirt. “It’s…” More fidgeting and twisting. “It’s a little tight. But it’s fine. This is fine. I can wear this.”

You couldn’t stop putting your hands on your waist. “Bucky, why are you acting like trying clothes on is some unbearable task?”

His shoulders drooped. “I’m not-“ He paused when you raised an eyebrow. “I… I don’t go to these fancy things. Steve’s the one who goes and he’s good at talking to people. I’ll be standing around total strangers not knowing what to say and looking stupid all night.”

Ravishing was a better word, but you would never tell him that. Instead, you fetched the next suit and handed it over with the tiniest smile you could muster so he wouldn’t feel like you were making fun of him. “You don’t look stupid. You can show up in cargo pants and look fine. But a suit makes donors think you care about the foundation, and I know you want guests to donate as much as they can. Think about all the good you’re doing just by putting on a tailored jacket and flashing those baby blues at esteemed checkbook holders.”

That was not flirting. That was a factual description of his eyes.

Bucky didn’t read into it. He accepted the second attire with a little less grumbling this time. The worry etched on his face faded. “You know the foundation also gives money to animal shelters.”

You took a few steps back and reached for your phone to take a picture, which was a mistake because he immediately went on defense mode and the scowl returned with a vengeance.

He waved you off with his black and gold arm which started making noises not dissimilar to a rocket about to take off. “No no no.” The vowels became increasingly longer as he spoke. “No.”

Did he just stick out his lower lip after that last “no” or were you hallucinating?

“Listen, you asked me to help. This is me helping. So put the hand down please and don’t look at me like I just asked you to kick a newborn kitten.”

The buzzing muted when he dropped his arm, but Bucky continued to glare at you.

The joke was on him because that smolder worked for you anyway. You snapped a photo that you would send him later for reference and he promptly marched back to the bathroom.

After the second suit, Bucky surrendered himself to the process. He’d put each outfit on and tell you which jackets he could eat dinner in and which ones made him feel like a balloon two seconds from bursting. You checked the length of the trousers and asked what he thought about lapels and button styles. He never smiled for the photos but at least he looked at the camera directly.

You were crouched on the floor, tugging on the hem of the fifth pair of pants when someone cleared his throat by the door.

Steve’s impressive figure filled the doorway. His brows went up but he masked his reaction quickly with a charming smile. “Uh, hello.” His eyes shifted from you kneeling on the floor to his best friend standing before you. “Door was open so I thought I would drop in.”

“This is a good length I think. What do you think, Steve?” You got to your feet and stepped back to get a good look at Bucky. You gestured for him to spin but that request went ignored.

“The gray makes his eyes pop, doesn’t it?” The blonde super soldier studied his friend’s attire. “Sam told me you were in Buck’s room.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ve been brought in to manage the umm...” You paused to see if Bucky would jump in and help explain your presence in his residence. When he didn’t say anything, you turned to Steve. “Wardrobe. Pro bono stylist to, uh, Sergeant Barnes.”

Steve’s grin was as bright as Bucky’s scowl was dark. You instantly recognized a staredown taking shape. The fair-haired super soldier held his smirk while his dark-haired counterpart frowned. Seconds passed and neither person felt the need to speak. They just knew which buttons to push and it usually made for quality entertainment, provided you weren’t involved.

The thing was, you couldn’t quite say for sure that you had nothing to do with the ongoing staring match.

You felt compelled to break the silence. “Gray’s a good color.”

It didn’t stop the nonsense brewing between the soldiers who both happened to be over a hundred years old. Only on paper, of course. Mentally, it would be impossible to prove they were over the age of 13 when they act like this.

“You told me to ask somebody. I found someone, and then I had to put the suit on. All of them.” Hostility oozed out of Bucky.

Steve glanced at you before replying to his friend. “Bud, pretty sure what I said was to ask someone to be your date for the evening.” The snicker was inaudible but it was certainly on his face.

Bucky continued to deliver dagger looks to Steve while you busied yourself with arranging the pile of clothes again. The lack of reply from Bucky didn’t bother the blonde man.

“Now that you have something to wear, all you need is a lovely friend to go with you to the gala.” Steve spoke with a confident booming tone conveying authority and leadership, just like in the ads that ran 24/7 on the public broadcast stations. “Should be an entertaining evening. Good food, definitely. I hear Pepper booked a band. Are you doing anything Friday?”

Oh no, the last line, that was meant for you wasn’t it? Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Steve waiting for a reply.

Why would he care about your Friday plans?

It was best to take that question at face value. “Uh, yeah, as a matter of fact. Gotta take care of something. Family stuff.” You found yourself making a conscious effort not to look at Bucky, who was pretending you weren’t in the room either. You definitely had errands, but you didn’t necessarily have to do them this Friday. “Nothing as quite as fun as the event, that’s for sure. I made Bucky promise to sweet talk at least one billionaire into making a donation.”

You forwarded the pictures you’d been taking from the past hour to Bucky, marking your recommendation with a smiley. You didn’t know what else to do while he continued to stand there openly glaring at Steve. “Hey Buck, I sent you the photos for reference. To help you pick… choose one of Steve’s suits.”

Adding that last phrase made you feel silly. As if Bucky had another choice to make. You were there to settle the suit situation. Now that it’s been resolved, you didn’t need to be there longer than you had to.

“That’s too bad,” Steve said sincerely, but it’s the other man’s prolonged silence that troubled you.

Bucky shrugged out of the jacket and tossed it to the pile on his bed.

Between Steve’s curious expression and Bucky’s newfound fascination with hanging suits in his closet, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught in the middle of a telepathic argument.

“Is Sam still around? I’ve been meaning to talk to him about a... thing.” These two don’t even deserve a good excuse right now. You slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Common room,” Steve replied. His eyes followed Bucky walking back and forth. “Left, past the elevators, don’t stop walking until you hear him.” He stepped aside to let you pass.

You squeezed past Steve, giving him a nod before taking quick strides down the hall. You had taken three steps when you heard the door open again.

“Sweets!”

“What?” You turned back, shaking your head at how abruptly you stopped walking when he called out.

More importantly, why did you assume it was for you?

Bucky stumbled out of his room and closed the door. Soapy mint fragrance travelled with him to the hallway, filling your head with his scent.

“Did you just-”

“You’re always giving away candy.” He shrugged and didn’t care to elaborate further.

Sweets. So it was a nickname after all. Yours. From Bucky. Your brain started working on overdrive, seeking meaning in this revelation. Fighting to give it meaning, when it could very well be noise that you should discard.

“I’m passionate about processed sugar, yeah.”

God your cheeks were burning. There was nowhere to hide in the long and empty hallway which was supposed to give the two of you a little bit of privacy.

Something about the way the two of you stood around the hall brought you back to the evening outside the bar. Not for the first time, you wondered if he ever thought about it. You wished you could tell. No - you wished he thought about it.

“Do you need a ride home?” He finally asked, running a hand through his hair.

Sometimes he made you realize he was just as good as you at dodging these self-made traps and skipping to the next part of the conversation.

“No, thanks. I can take the shuttle.” A round-the-clock shuttle service brought employees to drop-off areas and bus stations outside the compound.

He nodded. “I’ll walk you out then." He added, "Ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to let me know when you’re ready to leave?” like you knew what that was supposed to mean or what you were supposed to do in that instance.

“Ok.”

He re-entered his room without giving you another look. You heard Steve say “Why don’t you…” before the door slammed shut.

Just as Steve predicted, Sam’s cheerful voice filled the hall. Instead of following the sound, you headed for the lifts and pressed the elevator button. You didn’t need to see Sam anyway. Like your family errand, it can wait another day. There was something you needed to figure out first.

You poked the button again, knowing it would not speed things up.

This was crazy. You always wondered what the residential building was like, and now that you’ve been invited in, you couldn’t wait to get out of there.

Part Four

Thank you so much for reading :) Comments, replies, questions, hello's are appreciated.

Taglist: @enchantedbarnes, @justab-eautifulmess

Find the other parts here.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #h2obasedfics #bucky barnes fanfiction #another word for surveillance #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic

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starryhyuck · 4 years

Text

monetary value. (m) | richkid!mark

pairing: richkid!mark x richkid!reader

words: 8k+

summary: falling in love with mark lee is not as easy as it seems. especially when you’re both engaged to other people.

genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: dom!mark, sub!reader, creampie, kind of infidelity, little exhibitionism, office sex, riding, unprotected sex, overstimulation

thank you for 1400 followers!!

you fall in love with mark lee in the summer of 2018.

it’s short but blissful — filled with longing gazes, soft whispers and the crisp trepidation that it would all be taken away from you someday.

and it was. you watch as mark loops his arm around mina’s waist, smiling for the cameras as the flashes drown their figures. you throw back your glass of champagne and you feel someone grasp your arm.

your brother, jaehyun, is giving you a warning look. “don’t cause a scene,” he hisses down at you. you roll your eyes at him.

it wasn’t your choice to separate and it wasn’t mark’s either. you two had obligations that you needed to return to — mark’s being mina and yours being yukhei. you’ve both been engaged for several years in order to bring your respective companies success, and falling in love with someone else was never in the cards for you.

yukhei was a lovely, gentle soul, but he wasn’t what you wanted. you wanted it to be that summer all the time. you wanted to feel mark’s hand grip yours at the local cafe. you wanted him to greedily kiss you on the sand while the waves crash against the shore. you wanted his fingers to brush away strands of your hair while he gently makes love to you underneath the moonlight.

you and mark ended things once summer was over. you both knew you couldn’t carry on with what you were doing after being betrothed to other people. you returned to yukhei with a heavy heart, and your fiancé remained oblivious, simply overjoyed to have you back home with him.

jaehyun is the one of the only people who knows of the affair. you tell your brother everything as you know you can trust him wholeheartedly. he also keeps you firm and grounded, reminding you of your place in this socialite world.

“i’m not causing a scene,” you reply to your brother. he gives you a hasty look.

you spot yukhei walking over and jaehyun disappears, leaving you with your fiancé. yukhei has his signature smile painted on his lips, coming to your side and offering you another glass of champagne.

“this place is nice, isn’t it? i was surprised at first when chenle decided to buy it, but now i can see why,” he murmurs to you.

your eyes roam around the expansive building, topped with a golden chandelier and dozens of socialites roaming about, sipping champagne and speaking frivolously to one another. zhong chenle, a close friend of yukhei, bought the building a couple of years ago and today was the grand opening of the new remodel. yukhei was more than excited this morning to attend, having been stuck at his father’s office for the past month working on the merger with your family.

“it’s very pretty,” you remark, your eyes once again finding mark’s figure. he speaks to na jaemin with a wide smile, his arm still snug around mina’s waist.

yukhei hums next to you. “chenle wanted to have dinner with us tomorrow night. i think jisung might tag along too. what do you think?”

you offer your best smile to him. “sounds great, yukhei.”

he beams back at you. you wish you could love yukhei as much as he clearly loves you. but no, your heart still lays with the man across the room.

“i’m going to go to the restroom,” you announce, handing him your champagne glass. he nods and after you step away, you hear kunhang approach him and ask him about how things are going at the company.

you need to breathe. you’re not trying to cause a scene of any kind like jaehyun thinks you are, but you need to be more loving and faithful to yukhei so that everyone is convinced by this sham of a marriage. mark plays his part well, and you need to do the same.

you’re staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror when mina walks in, pausing at the sight of you. you know that mina knows what happened between you and mark that summer, considering mark couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

she doesn’t say a word when she stands next to you, fixing her hair in the mirror. your fingers grip the sink as the silence passes, tension filling the air.

“i’m sorry.”

you refuse to look at her as she makes her apology.

“you have nothing to apologize for,” you mutter back to her. she shakes her head.

“i do. i wish things were different, i really do.”

you can hear the sympathy in her voice, but you don’t want any part of it. you’re grateful that mina understands in some way instead of revealing your secrets to yukhei, but the emotion is overpowered by the feeling of jealousy that mina gets to be the one to go home with mark at the end of the day.

you exit the bathroom with a heavy heart, trying to find yukhei in the midst of the crowd. you’re stopped by naeun, who smiles gently at you and pulls you to the side.

“are you alright?”

naeun has been engaged to your brother since she was seven, but the only difference between their relationship and yours was that naeun and jaehyun actually loved each other. naeun acted as a sibling to you, and you didn’t mind jaehyun telling her your secrets from time to time because she was so understanding. she was constantly checking up on you to make sure you and yukhei were doing alright. most of the time, yukhei was but you were not.

“i’m doing fine, naeun.”

she frowns at your lie. her eyes flit over to where mark is standing, mina rejoining his side.

“he doesn’t love her.”

you shake your head. “it doesn’t matter.”

you find yukhei next to xiaojun and give him a soft kiss on the cheek, causing his whole face to light up at your affection.

this is where you belong. you simply can’t afford to think otherwise.

—

“i was thinking we could go to paris for your birthday. i know a few friends who live there.”

you smile at yukhei, who is eagerly leaning across the kitchen counter to speak to you. he looks like a kid on christmas day as he talks about your birthday plans.

you honestly didn’t want to do anything lavish this year. usually, your parents pay for some expensive trip as compensation for not giving a fuck about you. since you’re living on your own with yukhei now, they don’t really feel guilty anymore when they forget about you.

you’ve liked your past birthdays, most of them being spent in spain or italy. your favorite birthday was in athens, where jaehyun had first introduced you to mark.

you shake the thought out of your head to respond to yukhei.

“xuxi, i don’t really want to go anywhere this year. staying at home would be nice.”

he frowns. “that’s not fun! come on, this is the perfect time to take a vacation. we can go anywhere you’d like.”

you finish up the remains of your lunch and put the dishes in the sink. yukhei is adamant on following you out of the kitchen and into the living room. you lean down to pick up your laptop sitting on the couch but he stops you.

he has a serious gaze planted on his face and he sighs.

“i know you don’t really want to be married to me,” he whispers.

you avoid his stare. “what are you talking about?”

“i can see right through you, y/n. i’ve known you long enough.” he pauses, his fingers running over your hand gently. you still refuse to look at him, knowing you’ll only see the desperation in his eyes. “just give me a chance? i don’t want you to be stuck with me if you’re going to be unhappy.”

“i’m not unhappy, xuxi.”

“you are. i know you are.”

you exhale and he takes a step back from you so you can breathe.

“just let me throw you this party, okay? i promise it’ll be fun.”

and you feel bad. you feel awful because yukhei’s known this whole time that you’ve never loved him.

“okay.”

two weeks later, you find yourself in the heart of paris. yukhei made all of the arrangements fairly quickly, the both of you rooming in an apartment next to his friends, ten and yangyang. you know absolutely nothing about your party, and yukhei intends on keeping it that way.

he’s been doting on you since the plane landed in france, taking you to all of these art galleries and finding multiple bakeries to soothe your sweet tooth. you can tell yukhei is trying his hardest to change your mind, but everywhere you go, you see mark.

you see him as lovers pass by you, holding hands and smiling at one another affectionately. you see him as you gaze up at the eiffel tower, the lights shining down on your figure. you even see him when you look at yukhei, wishing mark was beside you instead.

you think back to that summer in greece when you first fell in love with him.

“you’re a little clumsy for a billionaire’s son, aren’t you?”

mark rolls his eyes at your teasing and you giggle. his cheeks redden as the both of you lean down to wipe up the coffee mark spilled all over the floor.

mark left the balcony door open so the breeze could flow inside but when a gust of wind throttled him, he spilled his morning coffee everywhere. he was such a klutz, yet you could never stay mad at him for long.

“the wind is really strong today, okay?”

you laugh again, throwing the soggy paper towels in the trash. you stand up and kiss him gently.

“you’re so silly.”

he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. “but you love me anyway.”

you chuckle. “i guess i do.”

“so what do you think?”

you’re taken out of your daydream by the sound of yukhei’s voice. the both of you are sitting outside of a cafe, enjoying the gentle breeze of paris.

“sorry, what did you say?”

yukhei laughs softly at you. “about dropping by ten’s art gallery tonight? he’s been working really hard on his latest collection.”

“oh,” you murmur, breaking off a piece of the croissant yukhei bought you. “yeah, that sounds nice.”

he nods at your answer and takes a sip of his cappuccino. the two of you eat and drink in silence and although you find it comforting, you can tell his mind is swirling. he’s clearly troubled by your indifference to him. you’ve tried to make it better over the past few days, holding his hand and giving him kisses on the cheek here and there. he knows, however, that you don’t really mean it.

later that night, you slip on your favorite red dress from versace and pair it with some black louboutins. yukhei waits for you by the door, beaming when you approach him.

“you look beautiful,” he comments, sliding your jacket over your shoulders.

“thanks, xuxi.”

the car ride to the gallery is spent in silence, and you realize most of your interactions with yukhei consist of this now. you hate it because you and yukhei used to talk so freely, but you can tell he considers this trip to be a turning point in your relationship.

when you arrive at the venue, yukhei quickly jogs over to open your door for you, and you smile as you take his hand and step out of the car. you thank the driver and loop your arm through yukhei’s, walking slowly up the steps to the gallery.

“have fun tonight,” he murmurs to you. you furrow your eyebrows at his odd statement, but it all comes clear to you once yukhei swings open the door.

you’re drowned in a chorus of surprise! and you’re in shock by the sight before you. all of the people who run within your circle are gathered in this small art gallery, huddled together as streamers fall down from the ceiling.

naeun and jaehyun approach you first, both of them offering a hug.

“happy birthday!”

even though your birthday wasn’t for another two days, you figure this was part of the illusion of yukhei’s surprise.

“how did you guys get here?” you ask, still a little frazzled by everyone’s appearance.

naeun giggles at you. “xuxi arranged everything!”

“yeah, isn’t that nice of him?” jaehyun questions. you know what he’s implying, but you ignore it.

more of your friends envelop you into their arms, giving you happy birthday greetings or complimenting your appearance. you smile at all of them, accepting their kind words as you try to get through everybody. you feel a little overwhelmed by the attention but you do your best to thank everyone for coming.

it probably wasn’t a hassle for most of them to fly to paris on such short notice, given most of your friends like taking spontaneous trips anyway. you’re pretty sure yuta was just in new york yesterday with sicheng.

you lose yukhei again in the crowd, rina pulling you aside and asking how your romantic getaway with yukhei has been. all of your friends seem to buy into your blossoming relationship, and they have no reason not to.

“everything’s going great, rina,” you smile tightly.

she grins and clutches your arm. “it’s so sweet how he did all of this for you! i would die if i was in your place.”

you nod and laugh, ignoring the guilt pooling in your stomach. you know that no matter how nice yukhei treats you and how hard he tries to be the man you want, you can never love him the way he wants to be loved. you can never have what your brother and naeun have.

rina leaves you to get a glass of champagne and that’s when you hear him.

“happy birthday.”

your back stiffens. you can identify that voice anywhere. it’s the same voice that used to sing you to bed, strumming his guitar gently as his gentle hums lull you to slumber. it’s the same voice that asked you if you would wait for him when the seasons changed. it’s the same voice who whispered sweet nothings to you during those late nights when it was only you and him.

you turn around to look at him. mina’s right by his side, looking a little uncomfortable by the interaction.

he looks as handsome as ever — wearing a suit from armani’s latest collection. your eyes focus on the cufflinks he’s wearing, the same pair you bought him for his birthday two years ago.

his gaze is heavy and you feel trapped underneath it. was it possible for him to be your biggest daydream and your greatest nightmare all at once?

“thank you,” you clear your throat. “i’m glad you both could make it.”

you fail to decipher the look in his eyes. you feel as if time has stopped, and there’s no one else in the room except you and him. mina averts her gaze, feeling as if this is too intimate for her to see.

mark whispers delicately to you, but you swear that he’s screaming.

“we wouldn’t miss it.”

—

it’s two hours later when you feel completely exhausted, walking outside to catch some fresh air. you’ve talked to yukhei only once since the party’s started. he’s been distracted by ten and yangyang, all three of them laughing and catching up with one another. you have no problems with this considering it’s the happiest you’ve seen yukhei in weeks.

you settle down on the outdoor steps, sighing softly and gazing at the night sky.

you hear the door open but you figure it’s just doyoung leaving early. he usually has morning meetings but he always makes sure to attend these gatherings for his friends.

you’re surprised when you catch mark in the corner of your eye, taking a seat beside you. you freeze, not really sure exactly what he’s doing.

“we could’ve made it work.”

you pause for a few seconds before responding.

“no, we couldn’t have.”

he chuckles and shakes his head, staring down at the concrete steps. you bring your knees up to your chest and rest your chin on top of them.

to have mark this close to you after so long — it felt both terrifying and freeing at the same time.

“we should’ve left,” he whispers. you hear the crack in his voice and you shut your eyes. “that night in plaka. we should’ve run away. you’re not supposed to be with him and i’m not supposed to be with her.”

“you’re wrong,” you murmur, feeling choked up already. “we were always meant to be with them. xuxi would’ve searched for me if i had left-“

“bullshit,” mark hisses, turning to face you now. you keep your eyes closed but you can feel his stare burning through the side of your head. “look at what yukhei’s done just to make you happy. you honestly think he wouldn’t let you go if he knew it’s what you wanted?”

you can feel a tear slip out and you sniffle, wiping it away frantically with the back of your hand. mark’s heart breaks at the sight of you crying.

“i don’t want to argue with you,” you whisper breathily. “what’s done is done. you get married to mina and i get married to yukhei. that’s how it was always supposed to go.”

you think mark will leave then, but he stays by your side, eyes staring up at the moon. you can hear the tremble in his voice the next time he speaks.

“i fucking miss you. i miss you so fucking much, you don’t even understand,” he says, hands balling up into fists. “i wish we could go back. remember that night we met in athens? you looked straight out of heaven, i swear. i knew i wanted you then. just like how i want you now.”

“stop,” you mutter. “stop saying those things.”

“why? it’s the truth,” he scoffs.

you feel a burst of anger flare in your chest. your eyes flutter open and you glare at him.

“you think i don’t miss you either? you think that that summer meant nothing to me? fuck, mark, i think about you all the goddamn time. i think about you when i’m supposed to be thinking about yukhei. when i’m supposed to be marrying him, not you.”

the door swings open again and you both turn to see who it is. yukhei walks out, his face confused by the sight of your teary eyes. he rushes over, leaning down and checking on you.

“hey, you okay? what happened?”

“nothing,” you smile at him, giggling a little to reassure him. “i just drank too much champagne. mark was out here comforting me.”

mark looks frustrated by your words, and he’s clearly not liking the fact that yukhei’s trying to take care of you. his hands are still balled into fists as he stands up. he puts on his best grin for yukhei to see.

“just wanted to make sure the birthday girl has a good time,” he assures. you watch as he walks back into the building, his figure disappearing into the sea of bodies.

“you sure you’re okay?” yukhei murmurs, checking you over again. he’s never really seen you cry and he’s honestly panicking a little on the inside.

you put on your best smile once again.

“i’m fine.”

—

“mark, this is my sister, y/n. y/n, this is mark.”

you smile at the man jaehyun has presented before you. you’re a little tipsy and you quickly adjust the birthday girl tiara that’s threatening to fall off your head. jaehyun laughs at your ridiculousness.

“nice to meet you, mark lee. my brother talks so fondly of his soulmate.”

mark chuckles out of embarrassment, the tips of his ears growing red. “ah, jaehyun just jokes about that.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes. “don’t act like we weren’t meant to be, mark.”

mark’s cheeks grow redder if it was even humanly possible. you giggle at his cute nature. jaehyun is soon whisked away by johnny, who is asking your brother to play beer pong with him. you snicker at their antics.

you’re left alone with mark, and to be perfectly honest, he’s a little awkward. a little too awkward to be a big shot ceo.

“aren’t you supposed to be the heir of lee enterprises?” you shout over the blaring music. it’s only fitting that jaehyun chose a raging club in athens as the venue for your party this year. you were genuinely having a good time, especially because you didn’t have to worry about pretending to be in love with yukhei — he couldn’t join the trip since he needed to step up to his duties at the company.

mark laughs at your question. “that’s my brother, taeyong! i’m just the stand-in second child.”

you smile at his joke. “same here! i’m the disappointment, jaehyun’s the looker!”

you both chuckle and you take a step forward, ignoring the way mark’s breath gets caught in his throat at your action. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“wanna get out of here?”

you toss and turn in bed, struggling to fall asleep. yukhei grumbles next to you, having fallen asleep over a hour ago. you sigh and get up as quietly as possible, trying your best not to wake your fiancé. you succeed as yukhei doesn’t move an inch, still as a rock while he dozes on.

you move to the balcony connected to your bedroom, shutting the door quietly and taking a seat on one of the lounge chairs. it’s a little cold and you wrap your blanket tighter around yourself.

the party ended without a hitch tonight, most of your friends still laughing and drinking together when you and yukhei left. he was worried about you after he caught you outside with mark, but after repeatedly reassuring him that you were okay, he let it go.

you didn’t see mark after your conversation, and you assume he left quickly with mina to avoid doing something he would regret. you think about his words as you stare down at the small streets of paris. you can still hear people chattering even though it’s already 4am, most of them drunk and stumbling on their way back home.

your mind travels to the last night you spent with mark during that summer. he was begging you to leave with him, practically on his knees to try and convince you.

“just come with me. we can start a different life. we don’t have any ties to hold us down! jaehyun and taeyong will both take over our companies, they don’t need us to be there!”

you shake your head at his ludicrous idea. “are you insane? did you forget about mina? about yukhei? they’re both waiting for us to come home, mark.”

“i am home,” he says strictly, walking over to you and gently stroking your cheek. “i’m right here with you, and that’s the only place i need to be. we don’t need to do this to ourselves, baby. we don’t need to separate. let’s get on the next flight to wherever and start a new life.”

you push him away and sigh. “we can’t. i can’t do that to him.”

“do you love him?”

you narrow your eyes. “no, and you know very well that i never have. i’m just not going to be some asshole who leaves her fiancé and her family with no explanation whatsoever. we both knew this wasn’t forever, mark.”

he tugs at his hair, clearly frustrated with your stubborn nature.

“so you’re telling me that you’re going to go home and act like everything’s fine? you’re going to walk down the aisle and get married to yukhei and not think of me?”

you turn away from him, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill. realization is hitting you like a truck — this would have to be it. you can’t see mark again. everything that’s happened since the beginning of summer is coming to an end.

“yes, that’s exactly what i’m going to do. i recommend you do the same.”

mark watches your back tremble as you refuse to face him. he exhales, running his hands down his face exasperatedly. minutes pass in complete silence, the only sound being heard are your small sniffles and mark’s occasional sigh.

“i love you,” he whispers. “i love you, and that’s not going to stop. i don’t care if i have to tell yukhei myself, but i’m going to make you realize it.”

the weight of mark’s words still linger in your mind. you ponder over the consequences if you do decide to leave yukhei. honestly, you didn’t want to break his heart. he’s always been so kind to you and understanding, despite your indifference towards him. he’s treated you that way since you two were younger. the only flaw about yukhei is that he loves you.

you wish you had one of those romance stories where you grew up with yukhei and fell in love with him when you both became adults. it would make everything so much easier if that were the case.

on the other hand, you couldn’t embarrass your family. your parents have worked so hard just to build the family business from the ground up. jaehyun’s been trained to step in as ceo since the day he was born, and the merger with naeun and yukhei’s family would bring your company’s profits through the roof. you couldn’t afford to lose yukhei and potentially damage the future of jung corporation.

you can’t decipher if you’re using these reasons as excuses. you’ve always been scared to go against your parents’s wishes. you were so young when they told you that you would be married to yukhei, and you’ve been raised to believe that everything they’re doing for you is for your own good.

maybe you really were a coward. you’re just afraid to fully take the leap with mark — to leave everything behind and be known as a disgrace to the rest of your family. mark was ready to sacrifice everything to be with you, but your cowardice prevented you from doing the same.

the door to the balcony opens and yukhei peers out, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“what are you doing out here?”

“couldn’t sleep.”

he joins you on the balcony, gently shutting the door behind him. he settles on the chair next to you. you both bask in the silence for a while before yukhei speaks up.

“have you been in love with mark for a long time?”

your head darts up, eyes widening at his question. you stare at yukhei but he doesn’t look at you, continuing to peer over the balcony.

“w-what- how did you-“

“you never cry,” he replies. “you only cry when you’re overwhelmed or seriously hurt. i’ve seen you drink at least seven glasses of champagne without ever tearing up. it also wasn’t hard to tell that mark wanted to murder me as soon as i came over to you.”

“yukhei,” you whisper. “i-“

“i know. you don’t need to be sorry. i should’ve known — you were always so dismissive and standoffish whenever we were at a party with the lee’s. you also weren’t the same when you returned from greece.”

you try to digest the fact that not only did yukhei know about you and mark, but he also knew you so well that he could tell something was off about you.

he takes a brief pause before asking his next question. “did you think i would be mad? that i wouldn’t let you be happy?”

you shake your head. “i just- i couldn’t disappoint everybody-“

he throws his head back and releases a throaty laugh.

“y/n, who gives a fuck about what anyone thinks? i’ve watched you be miserable over the past two years because you’re torturing yourself with this idea that you need to please everyone.” he turns to you and takes your hands in his. “i really do love you. more than i’ve ever loved anyone else. so that’s why i’m telling you that you need to find mark and be with him before it’s too late.”

“xuxi, it’s not that easy-“

“but it is!” he exclaims, trying to get you to see the bigger picture. “don’t you understand how easy it is? listen, the merger with your family is already ninety-five percent complete. there’s no way in hell my father is going to back out of this, especially after our stocks rose by a considerable amount last month. we don’t need to be married. our relationship was just the first step for both of our companies.”

your bottom lip trembles while you register all of the information he’s throwing your way. yukhei is telling you that you can be with mark now, you have nothing holding you back. everything would be perfect if you just weren’t so-

“scared,” you mumble. “i’m so scared, xuxi.”

“i know, i know you are,” he says, eyes staring at you in worry. “just talk to him. if he loves you, he’ll listen.”

—

when you come back home, you’re a little out of touch with reality. the first thing yukhei wants you to do is call mark but since you’re still trying to register everything, he lets you be.

he takes the guest room while you try to sort out whatever the fuck is going on in your head. you call naeun in the midst of your imminent breakdown, and she answers immediately.

“why can’t me and yukhei be like you and jaehyun?”

she’s a little startled by your question but she replies anyway.

“because you don’t love yukhei. you love mark.”

and it sounds so idiotic because you already knew this, but hearing someone else say it makes all the lightbulbs click.

“thanks, naeun.”

the first person you want to talk to is mina. you really don’t know mina well, the both of you simply acknowledging each other at parties. her brother, seungyoon, was the head of kang corporation and working on the merger with taeyong.

you’re in your head as you drive over to the kang household, fingers gripping the steering wheel while you try to think of what to say.

mina is surprised when she opens up the door to see your figure behind it. you both awkwardly stare at one another before you clear your throat.

“can we talk?”

she nods, stepping back to let you in. you two rest comfortably on the kang’s living room couch while one of the maids serves some tea for the both of you to drink. mina avoids your gaze but you can tell she is curious about why you’ve decided to visit.

“um,” you start off, trying to find the words to say. “i came over because i wanted to talk to you about mark.”

“oh. well, mark isn’t here,” she replies. “he hasn’t lived with me since he came back from greece.”

“oh,” you murmur, feeling embarrassed. you’re sure that mark’s living situation changed because of you. “i didn’t know that.”

she sighs. “y/n, i wasn’t lying that night when i told you i wished things were different. i don’t love mark and i know for sure he doesn’t love me. you’re all he can think about since that summer, and we only put on a good show for the cameras.”

you exhale. “i’m sorry. we shouldn’t have been so reckless, especially knowing you and yukhei were waiting-“

you’re surprised when mina throws her head back and laughs.

“i don’t care about that.” she comes over and sits next to you, looking into your eyes. “i actually love someone else just as mark loves you. i loathe this marriage as much as you do.”

you widen your eyes. “wait, what? who?”

mina blushes then, averting her gaze from you. she clears her throat.

“do you know the hwang family?”

you choke. “hwang hyunjin?”

her cheeks grow redder as she nods. she stares down at her feet while she speaks to you. “that’s not the point. i’m just saying that if you want to go to mark, by all means, i’m not stopping you. it would make him less grumpy.”

you laugh, feeling as if a big weight has been taken off your shoulders.

“thank you, mina.”

you head to lee enterprises on a mission, wearing mark’s favorite floral dress and the cartier necklace he bought you. you know he’s bound to be in the office right now, especially since taeyong is away in japan for business affairs.

you’re nervous as you can feel the stares of the company workers on you when you walk through the glass doors. you keep your head low and sigh when you get to the elevator, pressing the highest floor before anyone can get in with you.

you go over and over in your head what you plan to say to mark but you know you’re going to forget everything anyways the moment you see him. when the elevator doors open, you scan the area and try to identify where mark’s office is before anyone sees you.

you’re caught when jungwoo lays his eyes on you as he walks by.

“y/n?”

you laugh awkwardly. “uh, hey, jungwoo. do you happen to know where mark’s office is?”

he blinks twice, clearly surprised by your presence.

“yeah, um, his office is in the back. next to taeyong’s.”

“thanks,” you mutter, glancing at him one more time before scurrying away. you’re fully embarrassed now but you can’t afford to go back, not when you’ve made it this far.

you awkwardly enter the waiting room of mark’s office and his secretary, renjun, is shocked to see you.

“oh, hi y/n. did you have an appointment with mark?”

“not really,” you reply. “is he with someone right now?”

“well, no, but-“

“okay, great!” you beam at him, and renjun stutters when you knock on the door to mark’s office.

when you hear him call come in, you take a deep breath before opening the door.

mark is working diligently at his desk, head down as he shuffles through papers. you close the door so that renjun doesn’t hear anything. mark’s yet to look up at you, focused on the task at hand.

“what is it, renjun?”

“i’m a coward, and i’m sorry.”

mark’s head darts up at the sound of your voice, and he swears he’s dreaming.

there’s absolutely no way you’re standing in front of him right now. he stands up, pinching his leg to make sure he’s actually awake. you walk closer to him, trying to gather all of the courage you can muster.

“we should’ve run away together.”

he comes over to you, stumbling a little and almost tripping on one of the chairs, causing you to giggle. he stands in front of you but he’s lost on if he’s allowed to touch you. you smile and decide for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him gently.

mark digs his fingers into your hips and pulls you closer. the kiss quickly turns into something else as mark is greedily trying to get you as close to him as possible.

you pull away, slightly breathless. “don’t you want to know why i’m here?”

“i haven’t had you like this in two years, baby. i don’t really give a fuck about anything else right now.”

you end up pinned underneath him as he lays your body across his desk, desperate to get a feel of you. he stumbles as he quickly tries to find the phone and you watch him click a few buttons before renjun’s voice comes over the speaker.

“yes?”

“cancel everything today. you can go home early, renjun.”

“mark, you have that meeting with-“

he hangs up the phone, returning to pressing kisses against your collarbone. his fingers work on pushing up your dress so he can fully see the lacy underwear you’re wearing.

“mark,” you hiss, trying to get him to slow down so you can actually have a conversation with him. he’s rabid at this point, pulling down the top of your dress and attaching his lips to your mound. “mark, i wanted to let you know that i finally realized how stupid i was during that summer.”

he hums around your breast, flicking his tongue over your nipple. you moan and tug at his hair.

“mark, yukhei made me realize something.”

“please don’t talk about yukhei right now,” he murmurs, moving his attention to your other breast. “you’re so pretty, baby. did you wear this dress just for me? you know how much i like it. gives me easy access. remember when i fucked you in that alleyway in plaka?”

and you do remember. you were high on adrenaline that day and mark was absolutely mesmerized by the way your dress would bounce whenever you took a step. he was practically dying to get a taste of you and so you let him pound you ruthlessly in an empty alleyway. it didn’t end there either — he also fingered you in a cafe bathroom and let you ride his cock on the balcony of your shared apartment in athens.

let’s just say mark really liked this dress and you two were also very sexually active that summer.

“missed you, baby,” he murmurs. “haven’t fucked anyone else in two years.”

your eyes widen. “you haven’t fucked anyone in two years?”

he shakes his head. “can’t. only think of you.”

he moves up so that he’s face to face with you again. you rub your thumb over his cheek.

“i’m sorry. i love you. i wish i wasn’t so stupid.”

he laughs. “you’re not stupid. a little out of your mind, maybe.”

you whine when mark plays with the waistband of your underwear.

“aren’t we going a little too fast?”

he chuckles. “this is coming from the girl who rented a whole movie theater just so we could fuck in there all day.”

you narrow your eyes. “touché.”

soon enough, mark’s got your dress and underwear on the floor, his tongue lapping at your folds. you cry out, tugging fistfuls of his hair while he devours your pussy.

mark’s clearly clouded by lust and the office is filled with sounds of him slurping your juices. you try to give mark a warning that your orgasm is approaching fast, but he’s lost in his own world, eyes closed as he eats you out. you soar into your first orgasm and sob, bucking your hips up into mark’s mouth.

he groans when you cum, not stopping his relentless assault on your pussy. you whine from the overstimulation and try to push him away, but mark is persistent, using his hands to pin your thighs down to the table.

you forgot how much mark likes to see you cum. you remember being completely drained that summer in greece after mark pounded into you every night, desperate to see you fall apart over and over again.

you throw your head back when another climax builds just as quickly as the first. he pulls away from you and pushes a finger inside your weeping hole, curling it upwards.

“missed this pussy, baby,” he murmurs. “forgot how wet and tight you are. gonna take my cock later like a good girl?”

“yes, yes,” you chant, moaning when mark adds another finger.

“come on, baby. come on,” he whispers, picking up his pace and inserting a third finger. to throw you over the edge, he attaches his lips to your clit and sucks hard.

you thrash underneath his hold as your orgasm sweeps over your body, heightening your senses and throwing you deep into pleasure. you ride out your high on his fingers and when you whine again from the oversensitivity, mark stands up and unbuckles his belt.

you gasp when he lifts you off from the desk and drags you over to the large, glass windows that cover half of his office. you whimper when he presses you up against the glass.

you’re high enough to where the people walking on the sidewalk can’t see you unless they really looked, but the thrill still pulsates through your veins. you can’t even imagine what you look like — your breasts exposed and your dress bunched up at your waist.

mark’s grunting behind you, slacks around his ankles as he fists at his cock. you whine and arch your back, desperate to feel him fully.

“want me, baby?” he whispers in your ear. you shudder. “tell me how much you missed me.”

“m-missed you s-so much,” you blubber, pressing your hands up against the window. “fuck me mark, please.”

he slowly pushes into you and you cry at the stretch, feeling the burn in your throat. he soothes you through it, rubbing his thumb over your hip when he bottoms out. he gives you time to get adjusted, pressing small kisses against the curve of your spine.

“feel so good, baby. wet and snug around me, you fit like a fucking glove. did yukhei ever fill you this well?”

“i-i never f-fucked yukhei,” you reply.

the answer pleases him and he takes an experimental thrust into you. when you moan at the pleasure, mark turns into someone else.

you try your best to balance yourself on the glass while mark relentlessly pummels into you, pushing you further and further up the window. his hands move to cup your breasts and he licks at your neck, wanting to touch you everywhere.

“a-angel,” he hisses in your ear, the sound of his balls slapping against your clit filling the air. “my perfect little angel. little cock whore, aren’t you?”

you barely register his words and mark growls when he doesn’t receive an answer. his fingers grip your face and he brings you against his chest. you sob when the angle has him hitting you deeper.

“don’t wanna answer? been fucked too dumb to reply, baby? missed my cock, didn’t you?” you quickly nod at his questions, eyes rolling back as he constantly hits your sweet spot. “thought about you all the time. jacked off every single night to the thought of having you like this again. missed you so much.”

“m-missed you too, mark,” you mumble back to him.

his other hand moves down to stimulate your clit and you grip his wrist, your body going into overdrive. you convulse around his cock and you spasm around him, crying and whining while mark holds you firmly.

he moves the two of you so that he’s sitting in his office chair with you on top of him. you wail when he slaps your ass.

“ride me.”

despite your shaky legs, you follow his orders and build a steady pace on top of him. he watches as you swivel your hips and groans at how good you feel around him. you pick up your pace when the pleasure builds up in your tummy again. mark’s fingers dig into your hips as he tries to guide you up and down his cock. you grab his shoulders and move faster, bouncing on top of him.

you practically see white when you cream mark’s cock for the fourth time, wrapping your arms around him when your body goes limp. he gives you a few seconds to recover before thrusting into you.

you whine. “mark, i can’t.”

“don’t lie to me, baby.”

and you remember that mark’s seen you come at least seven times in one night, so he knows no feat is impossible.

he lazily fucks you to another orgasm and you let him use your body until he shoots ribbons of his cum deep inside you, groaning loudly as he empties out. he doesn’t stop until almost a minute later, giving you everything he has.

you can already feel some of his cum start to spill out but you and mark don’t care as you kiss each other gently. mark holds you close, not wanting to part from you any longer.

“what are we gonna do?” you ask him quietly.

“about what?”

you roll your eyes. “about our engagements! and the company’s merger too.”

“i’m sure mina would be more than happy to be engaged to hyunjin, and i can talk about the merger with taeyong. i’ll make it work, baby, don’t worry. how about yukhei?”

“he’s the one who told me to come to you.”

“huh,” mark hums. “maybe he isn’t that bad.”

“he isn’t! you’re just jealous,” you murmur.

“can’t help it. i love the prettiest girl alive.”

“you’re spending too much time with johnny.”

he smiles and kisses you.

“we’re going to be together, baby. i’ll make sure of it.”

—

“merci, bonne journée à toi aussi!”

the young man at the bakery smiles and waves at you as you exit. you carefully place the cake you ordered in the back of your car, making sure it’s safely tucked away before driving off.

you hum lowly to the sound of the music vibrating through the speakers. it isn’t long before you reach your apartment, quickly parking and unloading everything inside.

you get to setting the cake up immediately, lighting the candles and clearing the kitchen counter. you jump a little when you hear the familiar click of the front door.

“y/n?”

“in here!” you call, quickly holding the cake up in your hands as mark walks into the room. “happy birthday!”

he grins at you, laughing as he walks over. you sing a horrible rendition of the birthday song to him but mark loves it anyways, giving you a kiss on the lips before blowing out his candles. you cheer for him and smile, placing the cake safely back down on the counter.

“thank you, baby,” he hums, kissing your temple. “i love it.”

you and mark moved to paris shortly after reuniting. as soon as taeyong returned from his business trip, mark worked day and night to try and get the merger with mina’s family to go through. mina’s father was at first appalled by mark’s decision to leave his daughter but once he learned of mina’s own relationship with hyunjin, he agreed to keeping the merger. knowing the company was in safe hands with taeyong, mark had no qualms about leaving.

yukhei was able to successfully merge his and your family’s company without letting anyone know of your relationship problems. your last conversation with him still leaves your mind dizzy, but you’re grateful to him for everything he’s done for you.

“you don’t deserve this, xuxi. i’m sorry for not being who you wanted me to be.”

yukhei shakes his head, leaning back in the dining room chair. he knows you leave for paris tomorrow to start your new life with mark, and he doesn’t want you to feel guilty about anything.

“you have nothing to be sorry about. i’m just glad you’re finally happy. i’ve never seen you like this before.”

you smile shyly. “yeah, i guess i’m acting a little different now. i hope you could visit us in paris someday.”

he smiles. “count me in. don’t forget to add the wedding invitation.”

jaehyun was a little more reluctant on letting his baby sister run off with one of his friends to a different county. naeun was able to soothe most of his worries and your departure was one of the first times you’ve seen jaehyun cry.

it was also the first time you’ve seen him threaten mark.

now, you and mark live a peaceful life in france. given most of your inheritance was cut in half due to your strike of ‘rebellion against the family,’ mark found a small job producing music at a local recording studio and you took to practicing what little business knowledge you acquired from your parents by investing in some new homes around paris.

you were living the life you always wanted with mark, and you couldn’t be happier.

you’re interrupted from your thoughts by the feeling of mark sliding his hands up your shirt.

“i think i know what i want for my birthday present.”

you laugh and kiss him, letting the birthday boy take you the way he wants.

taglist: @suhweo, @bubudays, @ncteaxhoe, @floweringtheflowers, @keemburley, @en-see-tee, @nctandmatteblackaremyaethstetic, @oreo-cheesycake

#nct smut #nct scenarios #mark lee #mark #mark smut #mark lee smut

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boytouya · 3 years

Note

babe,,, I’m gonna need some more dilf reader x dabi of dabi taking the children to school when reader is too sleepy to

𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙇𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩

a/n: i did not mean to make this lowkey angsty , i can rewrite it if you want it to go differently! i wanna note that the kids were not scared of dabi because he’s abusive or anything, they’ve just never met someone like him before.

Warning: Parenting, slight angst/ hurt/comfort, very vague mentions/hints of endeavor’s parenting

“Didn’t know you drive, D.” Your daughter steals the passenger's seat next to Dabi before your son can, shimmying into the seat and kicking her feet against the bottom of the dashboard. She has an adorable speech impediment, it’s nearly impossible for him to deny her. Usually Dabi drives his motorcycle to and from your apartment, but he couldn’t take two kids to school like that. That would be dangerous. Bad-ass, but dangerous. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel, looking for buckled seat belts before he shifts gears and pulls out of his parking space.

“I’ll have to take you out on my motorcycle sometime,” Dabi responds, looking straight ahead as he presses gently on the gas pedal and turns on the radio. He can practically feel the excitement dancing in the air. “Your dad let you listen to this kinda music?”

Your son perks up (Dabi can see him through the rear view mirror) with an enthusiastic shake to his head. Dabi can guess what he says before it even comes out. He knows these kids like the back of his hand, and he considers taking that wrong turn through an alleyway was the best decision of his life. Something about them is almost uncanny to you, he wonders if it’s just their eyes. But that’s not entirely it. You’re all so pure hearted.

“We can listen to anything cause you’re cool, right D?” That makes Dabi raise his eyebrows.

“You could say that.” He sounds smug, laughing quietly to himself as he turns up the volume. He has to remind himself not to run red lights, not to speed up or play footsie with police cars driving by. He pulls his hood over his head just in case. He can’t risk anything with your kids. One day he wants them to be his kids too. At a red light he twirls his engagement ring around his finger.

“I wish Daddy was here...He lets us get donuts before school.”

“No he doesn’t, liar!”

“Yes he does!”

“Watch it.” Dabi looks through the rear view mirror and then straight ahead, his polished nails digging into the steering wheel. He forgets he’s dealing with kids sometimes, so he has a few slip ups. A few years ago he wouldn’t have even considered kids people, let alone drive them to school. He didn’t even know he was capable of feeling emotions like love so strongly! He was fueled by hate, and as much as it burned his insides it would never compare to the warmth you made him feel; your family made him feel. They don’t cower in fear like they used to, and Dabi doesn’t know how to apologize. That or he’s tired of apologizing. But he knows you all understand, so he tries to compensate. “I’ll get you donuts if you do good today.”

There’s a small hand on his within a few seconds, and he nearly crashes the car at the sight of it. Your daughter is staring right at him, her uncomfortably warm hand resting on his as he drives.

“Daddy says you get angry sometimes but you don’t mean it,” Kids are never this cute. There’s no way you managed to raise them like that. Maybe it’s cute because it’s coming from her, but she’s just as unfiltered as other kids her age. “You used to be kinda scary sometimes but we still love you, D.”

He doesn’t want to be scary. He wants to be the best dad he can be. He wants to make them happy and hear them laugh. He wants to unconditionally love and be unconditionally loved back.

A small thumb runs across his cheek.

“Um, you’re bleeding.” Your son observes, sounding slightly concerned.

Dabi moved his hand to ruffle the hair of the two children beside and behind him. They love him. They love him. It sinks in and creates a pit in his stomach. It’s only ever full when he’s around you and your family. The second you leave it’s empty again. The car slows as it pulls into the drop off lane of the elementary school.

“I love you too,” Their faces noticeably brighten. They scramble to collect their belongings and lunch boxes, but manage to grab everything and head out the car. “Have a good day at school.”

The car doors are shut just after Dabi’s ears pick up the sound of your children talking, their voices creating a mutual agreement as they say, “I wanna walk next time so we can hold hands! I wish D can be our dad too.”

Dabi’s excitement almost ignites your steering wheel.

#two in one night??? i’m on a roll #i sound like a white dad gotta go #the dilf is rubbing off on me #💕.dabi #dabi x male reader #dabi x you #bnha x male reader #bnha x trans reader #mha x male reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #anime x male reader #dabi x y/n #if i don’t take my black behind to sleep...

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untaemedqueen · 3 years

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 6.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Asshole!Yoongi

A/N: As always, my loves @ppersonna, @ladyartemesia, @xjoonchildx consistently support me and make me feel better about how I’m writing. I’m so fucking grateful to them! I really wouldn’t be here without them and of course without all of you <3

Hospitals have always frightened you. They always smelled a little too much like cleaning supplies and for some odd reason they always had an underlying scent of sickness. Not that you could equate the smell of sickness to anything in particular-- but it just had that scent.

You can remember when your mother got her appendectomy and your dad told you to bring her doshirak while he went off to work, it scared the ever living hell out of you.

It's not that you were a hypochondriac or at least you didn't think you were. But now, as you stand beneath the large entrance to the VIP admittance area, your skin begins to crawl.

Maybe it’s the fear of entering the hospital and getting sick from others or maybe it’s the fact that you’ll be in a small space with the father of your child quite like that fateful night.

You hear a car quickly approaching behind you as you stare up at the gold trimmed sign of the entrance and you can practically feel him. You choose not to turn around, memories of your shopping trip still stuck in your mind like superglue.

Shopping with Yoongi was like a very failed, fucked up montage. You would try something on, come out of the dressing room and he would grimace and wave his hand while sipping champagne telling you to go put on something else.

Namjoon told you that he is a good person, and his life has been hard so being a dick is how he compensates. You want to believe him, but it’s just so hard.

“Little dove. Good morning,” you hear from behind you.

Angling your head to the voice, you take in his appearance. His black hair was combed back, a few odd hairs landing on his forehead. His eyes were fierce and piercing as always. And, his voice is as smooth as silk. For the first time, you notice two piercings on his left ear as he approaches. One is a small hoop made of diamonds and the other just a diamond stud. They look good on him, really fucking good.

“Hi.” you say, lifting your arm awkwardly to wave.

“You ready to see the Kisung heir?” he asks as he looks down at his Rolex.

Just the thought has a lump forming in your throat. Are you ready? This is all so fast and so fucked up.

“I think so,” you reply, earning half of a smirk from him.

“Let’s go up. We have other things to do today.” he tells you as he walks off to the entrance without you.

He makes you feel like such an intrusion. You really are a pauper in his lifestyle.

He holds the door open for you and you’re immediately hit with the smell that can only be akin to a hospital. It makes your stomach churn and suddenly you feel flush. Your skin prickles with heat, a thin layer of nervous sweat beginning to build up on your body.

Stopping at the entrance, you watch as nurses and doctors pass by without a second glance. The simple sight of scrubs and surgical caps is enough to have you leaning against the large potted plant that sits adjacent to the door.

Yoongi begins talking and the sound starts to drown out as you focus on the marble floor.

“Hey. Y/N.” you hear him call impatiently.

“Water,” you whisper softly as your vision begins to tunnel.

“Y/N?” he asks again, softer this time.

“I-I need water.”

Your mouth is going dry and it’s starting to become hard to swallow.

Your shaky hand reaches out for the lip of the planter beside you to hold you steady.

“Oh fuck!” Yoongi yelps out, he catches your arm as you begin to fall.

“Can I get some water over here?!” he calls to the receptionist and they’re quick to do his bidding.

“I-I’m sorry,” you feel your eyelids getting heavy as you speak.

“Just relax. Calm down. What is it? Is it the kid?” he asks softly in your ear as he hauls you up. Tugging your arm just enough, he’s able to slide his body behind yours. You can feel the hard plains of his abs through his crisp shirt as he molds your body to his.

A receptionist rushes over with the bottle of water and he cracks it open quickly before handing it to you.

“Let’s sit down for a second. Come on,” he whispers in your ear.

Your feet feel as heavy as bricks while he pulls you over to the seating area. Tying your hair up in a ponytail, you lean back into the plush couch with a sigh.

“Drink the water.” he commands, his voice is gruff but the tone is riddled with nervousness.

You sip the water slowly, the spots in your eyes beginning to diminish as he puts his hand on your knee.

“Look at me, just focus on my face,” he calls, tapping his index finger beneath your chin.

Slowly turning your head to him, you can see his eyebrows furrowing with nerves. He cards his fingers through his hair as his thumb rubs gentle strokes on your knee.

“Is it...morning sickness?” he sounds uncomfortable even saying it. You feel uncomfortable hearing it.

You shake your head to him and that seems to make him relax just a bit.

“I have an irrational fear of hospitals,” you reply as your heartbeat begins to slow down. He tilts his head curiously and he wonders to himself what you’ve been through to get a panic attack quite like this.

Was it something that’s happened to you in the past? You seem to be scared of almost anything.

Usually, Yoongi would be annoyed at the mention of anything irrational. But, he fights it for once. For once, maybe he should be honest too.

“I’m afraid of hospitals too,” he admits to you.

“Really?” you ask as you press your hand to your stomach, the feeling of nausea slowly settling away.

His eyes flicker to your hand and he swallows uncomfortably. He turns his head to the large painting on the wall, he traces the abstract lines and shapes on the canvas before nodding.

“Yeah. It always smells weird and the thought of getting even more sick makes me nervous,” he says.

“Me too.” you murmur hopelessly as you look down at his hand on your knee.

“But, this hospital is really good. My family owns it. It’s one of three that we own in Seoul. You’re safe here. I promise,” he swears as he turns his attention back to you.

It’s almost comforting to hear his words. Right now, in this moment, it’s almost difficult to remember how much of an asshole he is.

“When you’re ready, we’ll go up,” he says softly.

His eyes drift over others in the lobby. They’re all staring. His hand rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck and you follow his gaze.

He shouldn’t be down here with you like this. He’s married. It hits you all in one second.

“Let’s go.” you tell him as you stand up on shaky legs.

“No, Y/N. Wait. Sit down and relax. It’s okay.” he calls to you, but you’re already off to the elevators.

He watches as you slam the button for the elevator, his hands slide over the knees of his pants before he’s standing up to follow you.

Maybe you weren’t a leech. Maybe you were just kind.

You hold the door open for him and he brushes past people without an apology before stepping into the elevator.

“You have a fear of elevators too?” he quips but his joke is brisk and it makes you scowl.

“No.” you murmur as he pushes the fifth floor button.

The silence is uncomfortable as the doors slide shut, the saxophone elevator music would be comical if your crippling embarrassment wasn’t beginning to swallow you whole. Now that your senses were returning to you, you just seized up as soon as you stepped inside the hospital.

You almost fell on the fucking floor like a flopping fish! How embarrassing!

Yoongi can practically sense your nervousness. He can see it in the way your knees knock together, and certainly how your hand grips the railing of the elevator. Your knuckles are practically white as you stare at the floor.

He should find a way to make you feel better, he thinks anyway.

“I like your dress. Looks not so homeless,” he says and he closes his eyes at how he sounds.

Maybe Maya is right, he needs to think before he speaks.

“Oh. Nice. Thanks.” you mutter as you pull at the fabric of the dress.

So much for trying.

“No. I mean-”

“I wear deliciously brown burlap sacks. I got it.” you retort as the doors open. He sighs to himself slightly as he watches you leave him alone in the elevator.

You walk off without him and he’s only a few steps behind but he feels as if he’s losing his ground.

Not only did he almost beat up Park Jimin at the mention of you, but now he’s starting to feel sorry for the things he says? Just what the hell is going on?

But, he can see a different personality almost peeking out of you every time he confronts you. It’s almost nice to see you being different then just nervous and scared.

“Oh! Mr. Min! Right on time, you can follow me!” a nurse calls to him from the reception desk.

“This is the VIP wing, only my family is taken care of up here,” he announces to you. You feel his hand press gently to your lower back and you pull away uncomfortably as you follow the nurse.

His hand feels too comfortable on your back for your liking.

The VIP room is gigantic, so far beyond what you originally had thought just a little while ago when you were downstairs.

The table with stirrups looks intimidating and uncomfortable.

“Just take off your underwear and the doctor will be right in,” the nurse says, her hand slides over Yoongi’s shoulder and you find yourself grimacing at how comfortable he is with it.

It’s like he doesn’t even register that to normal people, that would be uncomfortable.

“Thanks Mira.” he says as he folds his arms.

You watch the door shut and you shake your head in disbelief as he casually sits down in the chair beside the examination table.

“You fuck her too?” you ask him as he pulls out his phone.

“Just once. She wasn't into what I'm into,” he replies calmly and you roll your eyes.

Looking around for somewhere shielded to take off your underwear, his eyebrow quips up.

“I have seen all of you before, y’know. You can just take off your panties and give them to me,” he gives you a big smile as he holds his hand out and you scowl at the notion.

“Asshole.” you whisper, earning a chuckle from him as you walk into the bathroom.

Taking off your underwear, you stare at yourself in the mirror. This was just an out of body experience at this point. You were so far beyond the point of anything making sense. Your life has quite literally changed in a matter of weeks and today you’d be moving into a completely different home. You’d be seeing your child that was a surprise. Everything was moving so fast and it’s so terrifying.

You put your underwear in your purse, one that Yoongi has actually bought you instead of having to borrow Leenas.

Yoongi hasn’t moved an inch as he looks up from his phone, “Your room is ready. The kid’s too. Looks good.” He says as you walk over to the table.

You can only wonder what it looks like, did he buy cheaper things because he feels like that’s all you deserve? Or did he buy expensive furniture to really sell just how much money he actually has?

“I didn’t buy the kid furniture though. Thought you might want to do that. Maya said women go through something called nesting? Sounds like a bird,” he says as he looks back down at his phone.

He sounds really fond of Maya. You wonder what she must be like for him, the king of assholes, to be fond of her.

“Sounds fun!” you reply earnestly as you hop up on the table.

“Fun?”

You hum in agreement as you pull the dress down lower to your knees. “I think picking out furniture and stuff is fun. Leena let me pick out all of the furniture for the penthouse apartment. I like doing that stuff.”

He nods, his lips puffing out like he’s almost impressed before the door opens.

The white lab coat the doctor wears is almost enough to send you into a spiral once more but before your breathing can even hitch you hear the father of your child. “Drink your water. Now.” he calls to you.

He doesn't know where it came from but all he knew was that the water helped before and you should feel better with it. He seemed to get protective of you in that mere second.

“Min Yoongi. A pleasure,” the doctor says as they shake hands.

You practically chug the water, the cooling liquid seems to bring you a sense of peace as he approaches you.

“Y/N, I’m assuming. It’s so nice to meet you,” you shake his hand and out of the corner of your eye you watch Yoongi stand tall before taking his place beside you.

“Hold my hand,” he instructs briskly and you grimace at the thought. He rolls his eyes as he grasps your wrist before placing your hand in his.

You notice just how sweaty his hand is… or is it your hand that’s sweating? There’s moisture, for sure.

“Are you ready to see the Kisung heir? This must be exciting!” the doctor says as he sits down on the rolling stool before you.

Swallowing thickly, you give a small nod. Now, the nerves are really getting to you. Yoongi squeezes your hand tighter before looking down at his phone like this isn’t important to him. Or as if he was trying to avoid it.

“Okay, how are you feeling, Y/N? Any nausea? Tiredness?” the doctor asks as he puts on gloves.

“I’ve been really tired lately. Not so much nausea,” the doctor nods as he sets up the ultrasound equipment.

“Any breast tenderness? Are you in pain?” the question peaks Yoongi’s curiosity and he looks up from his phone to look at you as you nod.

“Yeah, they’re really painful,” you reply softly, almost embarrassed at the questions.

He had no idea. You hadn’t said anything about pain.

“That’s normal. Abdominal pain too? Getting mildly bad cramps?” you nod again and the father of your child blanches.

Jesus, you don’t make it seem like you’re going through a rough time. You really may just be stronger than you look.

Maybe this is what Maya meant about you going through a difficult time.

“So, the things you want to look out for are lightheadedness, cramps, very little vaginal bleeding, breast changes, food aversions, mood swings, and increased vaginal discharge,” you nod studiously as he grasps what looks like a wand in hand.

“You got all that, dad?” Yoongi’s eyes widen and he points to himself in confusion.

“Who? Me?” he asks aloud and you hide your smirk behind your hand as the doctor nods.

“Yeah, you. You got her into this mess, right?” yhe doctor jokes as he rolls a condom onto the end of the wand.

Yoongi scoffs gently. “Well it takes two to tango.” he mumbles to himself uncomfortably.

Your giggle makes him instantly relax. This isn’t the first time this has happened and it’s beginning to really freak him the fuck out. Sometimes, the things you do calm him so easily, set him into such a state of peace. It’s terrifying.

“This may be uncomfortable for you. I’m going to insert this and we’ll be able to see your baby,” the doctor says to you.

With a nod, you look at the black screen of the ultrasound machine. Yoongi buries his face farther into his phone at the mention of seeing his kid.

But, he’s pulled out almost instantaneously as you squeak out uncomfortably as the wand invades you. Your hand grips tighter in his and his eyes are on you in a second.

“You’re alright. Don’t worry,” he doesn’t know where the kind words came from but he doesn’t take them back.

The screen begins to shift to dark greys and whites, earning Yoongi’s attention.

“We may be able to hear a heartbeat, we’ll find out.” the doctor says happily.

You wriggle uncomfortably as the wand continues to invade you. Squeezing your hand a few times to try and set you right, Yoongi stares at the screen with a raised eyebrow.

“There!” the doctor says loudly and you both jump with nervousness as you see the small blip on the screen.

It’s so small.

You feel your throat clenching uncomfortably and you close your eyes for a second to make sure this is real.

For Yoongi, he feels his heart begin to beat faster. He can practically hear it in his ears as he squeezes your hand tighter.

This was his kid. He fucking made this. He has to become a parent to this small little thing.

“Oh my God.” he mumbles to himself, but in the large silent room you can hear him so clearly.

“Let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat,” the doctor says before pushing a button on the machine.

The sound is voraciously loud in your ears. The heartbeat is strong and unwavering. It makes you smile. Although this isn’t what you had planned, it feels good to see your child.

Yoongi lets go of your hand quickly, as if you had burnt him. He pockets his phone and his hands before looking down at the ground uncomfortably.

“What do you think, dad?” the doctor asks him happily.

What the fuck does he think? That this is terrifying. That he made a child he has to take care of. He thinks that he’s not ready, at all!

But, it’s his child. That heartbeat -- he made that. He created something so small and so perfect.

His eyes begin to burn uncomfortably, as if he’s about to cry and he makes his way back to the seat before plopping down and taking in a deep breath.

“I think it looks like some sort of weird worm,” he replies to the doctor.

Snorting gently, you tilt your head at the screen.

“Like a sesame gremlin,” you say.

Just your words make him chuckle and he looks down at his shoes before closing his eyes once more.

“So the baby’s heartbeat is really strong which is great! From the size, it’s about five weeks and three days old. Everything looks great, but you’ll be coming back once a month to make sure things aren’t changing or getting out of hand. We’ll take a blood test now to see how your levels are but other than that, things look really good over here. Congratulations.”

That was the first time either of you have been congratulated on the news.

Yoongi can feel himself filling with something akin to pride.

It almost makes him respect you more. You’re carrying his child.

Looking over at you, he feels as if he’s never actually looked at you before. He’s always known how beautiful you are. But now something feels different. It feels explosive. Like something cosmic was coming into being.

“I’m going to give you some prenatal vitamins for you to take, no smoking, no drinking, no raw fish, no hot tubs or saunas, you should eat really well, drink a lot of water and make sure you just take it easy,” the doctor says as he pulls the wand from you.

You can feel a weight lifting off of you as you look at your child. You certainly aren’t ready. You would never begin to call yourself ready but just seeing the child within you makes you hopeful.

“That’s it?” Yoongi asks the doctor, ripping his gaze away from you.

“That’s it! We’ll take the blood in another room near the elevator before you leave. I’ll get Mira to take her blood,” the doctor takes off his gloves and throws them in the garbage before clapping his hands finitely.

He helps you down from the examination table and you excuse yourself to the restroom suddenly feeling the urge to pee.

While he waits, Yoongi can’t stop staring at the screen. While the heartbeat isn’t loud in his ears any longer, the image of his child is still staring him dead in the face.

“Do you print those pictures?” he asks softly, looking over at the closed bathroom door.

“I can if you want me to.” the doctor replies as he sanitizes the examination table.

Yoongi nods at the thought. “Yeah. Can you print two sets?”

Waiting for the elevator, you squeeze your arm tightly trying to stop the blood flow from when Mira took your blood. She was eyeing Yoongi the whole time like a five star meal and it only got more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked on.

“Here.” the CEO says as he hands you a white envelope.

You look down at the package before tilting your head as you both get on to the elevator.

“What is it?” you ask as you open it up.

“The kid’s pictures. Thought you would want some of our sesame gremlin.” his voice sounds distant but you begin to smile at the small black and white photos before you.

“Did you get some for yourself?” you ask happily as you put the pictures in your purse.

He hits the button for the ground floor before leaning back against the railing of the elevator as it descends.

“Why would I need pictures of a five week old kid?” he retorts.

You shrug with a smirk before looking down into your purse and staring at the pictures.

His hand brushes the pocket of his suit pants, feeling his wallet that secretly holds the picture of your child.

The drive to Yoongi’s mansion sends butterflies fluttering around in your gut. This is like going to a new school in the middle of the year and being awkward and uncomfortable. The silence in the Rolls Royce apart from the random gusts of wind that come through the window don’t help either.

Yoongi is completely comfortable, his legs are outstretched as he scrolls through his phone. You wonder if there’s ever a time where he doesn’t look like he stepped right out of Time magazine.

“Oh, here.” he says as he pulls out a credit card before handing it to you.

You hold the black card in your hand for a second, the weight is as light as paper but just the notion feels heavy.

You throw the card into your purse without a second thought and you miss how Yoongi smirks at your actions.

“You’ll also have a driver. I picked out Minho. But, if you don’t like him then I can get someone else.” his voice is flippant. He’s probably used to firing a bunch of people without wondering about their home life and how much they need their jobs.

The car pulls up to the gated community which Yoongi lives in. Now, you too.

“Welcome to my home. Well...our home.” He says as the car drives past a large fountain that is spurting water on all sides.

You take in a bunch of large mansions as the car drives down the large stretch of road that is lined by pretty cherry blossom trees. Everything about this is so picturesque. You can imagine just how gorgeous his house must be.

“Wow!” your voice is above a whisper as you look off into the distance. You can see a few people riding horses in the far off distance.

“Namjoon’s wife loves horses. She breeds them for contests.” Yoongi states as he follows your gaze.

Leena has told you so much about high profile life, but actually being here surrounded by what feels like billions of dollars is jarring. It’s almost difficult to put into words.

Every stone, every tree, even the flowers seem like they’re perfectly placed as you continue to drive.

“Don’t go into Sera’s wing please. I don’t want to hear her bitch,” he grumbles as he puts his fist beneath his chin.

You give a small nod to him understanding before looking ahead as his mansion comes into view.

“You got knocked up by the right person, huh?” he chuckles as your mouth opens slightly at the sight.

The face of the house is enough to make someone weep, it’s all marble with black quarts trimming and large perfectly clean windows. Each piece of marble is perfectly cut and precise. It’s almost too beautiful to look at.

“I had an architect from Greece come out and build my home. I used to live in it alone until y’know, the demon came.” he says as the car drives around the large marble fountain in front.

“Jeez.” you whisper as he gets out of the car first.

You follow behind him not knowing where to look and wanting to look at all of it. The house spreads out wide and surrounding it are gorgeously cut hedges and tall growing flowers that look perfectly taken care of.

“So. The first two wings on the bottom floor are the gallery. Don’t fucking touch anything. There’s millions of dollars in paintings and statues.” Yoongi says as he steps up the black quartz stairs.

There’s even a man at the front to open up the double doors for him. Which is ridiculously posh and so completely out of your element. Your eyes gaze upward taking the whole house in and you swallow at the sight.

“Little dove, I really don’t have all day. Get your pert ass inside.” Yoongi calls to you as he enters without you.

You follow behind him clumsily, thanking the doorman who gives you a smile in return.

Stepping into the entryway, you can all but marvel at how gorgeous everything is. You do not belong here.

“It’s like a museum,” you whisper and you jump at how loud your voice is in the quiet area.

“Whenever I go out of the country, I like to pick up art or a statue. They’re collectors pieces. Do not fucking touch anything.” he warns you.

Nodding quickly, you look down the large stretch of the front wings before following him as he continues into the house.

You'll definitely have to look at all of the beautiful art later.

His hands clasp behind his back and you grip tighter onto your purse afraid to touch anything.

None of this looks real, it’s so grandiose and so amazing that it feels like you’ve stepped into a movie.

“Both of these staircases lead up to either wing. Our wing is the right one.”

Walking past the staircases, you spot a sitting room filled with luxurious black furniture and so many throw pillows you have no idea how anyone would sit on them. They seem like they’ve never been touched before. A bar lines the wall behind it and your eyes widen at how fancy it looks. Mirrors line the back of the bar and the dark oak trimming really brings the room together.

“We don’t sit down here in the sitting room. It’s more for show. Doesn’t mean you can’t, it’s your house now too. But, you have your own living room upstairs in your room.” Yoongi says and you turn to him slowly as he leans against a carved marble pillar.

“I have a living room in my bedroom?” you ask softly to which he grins.

“Yeah. Doesn’t everyone?” he quips with a chuckle.

You blanch at the thought before rolling your eyes as he winks at you.

“Come.” he commands as he pushes off the pillar.

“Holy shit.” you mumble as you walk further into the house.

The kitchen is fully open, with two marble islands and top of the range equipment that make you gasp. There’s a long bar lined with chairs that barricades the kitchen from you so you can eat and it makes you blink rapidly at the sight. You can see people working in it, keeping the place tidy and at the mere sight of Yoongi they bow deeply before returning back to work.

“We have a chef from five in the morning to twelve at night.” Yoongi tells you as he leans against the long bar.

The chandeliers that line the place are absolutely beautiful and yet again, you have no idea where to look.

“This is the dining room, where we don’t eat because it’s for parties and I don’t host parties. The leech does.” Yoongi says as he slides open two cherry wood doors beside the kitchen. The table is long and beautiful bouquets of flowers line the cherry wood top.

“Jesus Christ.” you whisper as you clutch the purse tighter to your body.

He closes up the doors before putting his hand on your lower back and pushing you past the kitchen.

“This door right here leads to the maid’s quarters. You don’t have any reason to go there.”

You nod to him as a maid opens up the door before bowing to you both and heading towards the kitchen.

“This is the library slash poker room. Thursday nights are for poker. It’s one of my hobbies.” he says as he grips the gold handles before shoving open the doors.

You’ve always loved reading, maybe in here you can find some good books and take them to your bedroom to read.

“Do you like reading?” he asks softly as you step inside.

“I love reading!” you reply as your fingers graze the marble bookshelves that line the walls from top to bottom.

You then realize how rude it was of you to just barge in and start touching stuff. “Sorry.” you murmur as Yoongi walks over to the bar caddy.

He pours himself a glass of whisky before shaking his head at you.

“This is your home now too. You don’t have to be scared, little dove.” he says above the lip of his glass before downing the contents in one burning go.

Your eyes spot a few books that look interesting and you make a mental note to check them out later when you’re settled in.

“Past this room is the game room. There’s a pool table and some old fashioned pinball machines. Stuff for decoration mostly.”

It brings up a question that just bursts free from you.

“So you’re exorbitantly rich, you have all of these cool things inside of your home and you never use any of them?” you ask as he closes the library doors behind you.

“Well in order to be exorbitantly rich, you need to work hard. I don’t have time to just sit on my ass and play Pac Man all damn day, little dove.” he whispers in your ear. You blush at how insensitive it must have sounded.

“Through those glass doors is the indoor pool. It’s heated but not too hot for the baby,” he tells you as a maid opens the doors for you both.

He comes to realize that was the first time he hasn’t called your child ‘kid’ or ‘thing’ around you.

Maybe seeing the small sesame gremlin on the screen really did do something to him.

“Wow. This is amazing Yoongi. Your parents must be so proud of you.” you say as you walk along the heated floor of the pool. He chuckles to himself as you look at the marble recliners that are for relaxing on the side.

“Parents.” he snort at the notion.

He tilts his head cryptically as you look out the glass walls of the room. It’s almost as if you’re in a snow globe. Every wall is glass, there’s some stained glass pieces that fleck the floor with pretty colors as the sun comes out from behind a cloud.

“Shall we go up to our win-” his voice is cut off by screaming in the distance and you jump at the screeching noise.

“That’s the leech. She probably lost a follower on Instagram.” he says as his hand wraps around your arm before tugging you toward the noise.

While you haven’t been fully versed in just how evil Sera is, you’re positively nervous to see her. Leena told you to look her up on the Internet but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were too frightened for what you would find.

“Sir!” the voice is absolutely elated and so sweet sounding that it puts a small smile on your face.

Yoongi positively lights up as an older woman approaches the both of you from the maid’s quarters. Her hair is in a neat bun and her clothes are wrinkle free. She seems a bit older and has a tan to her skin as if she’s been out in the sun working.

“Y/N. This is Maya. Head maid.” you shake her hand happily as Yoongi begins to smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you! I've heard amazing things about you!” you say happily as she puts her hands on her hips.

“Well! Aren’t you just absolutely gorgeous! Welcome to the home Madam, I’m so happy to be of service to you!” Her words are so kind and she’s so sweet but it’s the intent of the words that make you feel uncomfortable.

“Oh, Maya. No. You can call me Y/N. You don’t have to treat me like Yo-”

“Nonsense! You’re a big part of the home just as much as the other two that live here! Don’t be silly!” you hum uncomfortably as Yoongi snorts.

“Please be as kind to Maya as you possibly can. She’s an angel.”

This is the first time that you’ve heard him speak so kindly about someone. It’s heartwarming, if you’re being honest.

“Let me take your purse.” Maya says softly, noticing how you clutch onto it for comfort.

“Oh no. It’s okay.”

“Give her the purse, little dove.” Yoongi retorts before snapping his fingers as you pass the kitchen.

“Yes, Sir?” a woman in the kitchen asks as he stops short.

“What do you like? Strawberry? Lemon?” he asks as he leans into the long marble bar.

“Both.” you reply curiously.

“Strawberry lemon sparkling water. And a vintage whisky. Now.” he calls out before turning back to you and Maya.

“Show Maya the pictures.” he says as his whisky is handed to him.

He must love her a lot. His demeanor seems to change when she’s around like no other.

Digging into your purse, you pull out the black and white pictures of your baby before handing them to her.

“Oh my goodness! Look at this! How amazing! With such a handsome father and a beautiful mother, your baby is going to be absolutely breathtaking!” Maya says and her voice seems to choke up as she stares at the picture. She turns thoughtful as her thumb swipes slowly over the picture in hand.

“I raised Yoongi from when he was very little, y’know.” Maya says proudly as she hands you back the pictures.

That’s news to you.

“Okay, Maya.” Yoongi mumbles uncomfortably.

“You did a great job,” you compliment her and her smile is megawatt as she rubs your arm comfortingly with her hand.

Yoongi smirks above the rim of his glass before tilting his head. Maybe you two would get along, you’re kind enough and Maya certainly is. Maybe there won’t be so much toxicity around the mansion anymore.

“Do you like to cook?” you ask her gently as Yoongi pulls the seat out of the bar for you to sit.

“I love cooking! Although Frederic is in the kitchen seven days a week, I hardly get to use it.” Maya says as she fixes Yoongi’s tie.

You watch how well she takes care of him, how she babies him and how he doesn’t move or feel uncomfortable at the notion. It’s like watching a rabid dog be kind only to his owner.

“Maybe soon, we can get in the kitchen together. I love cooking too. Give Frederic the night off.” you offer with a smile.

The smile lines by her eyes crease in delight at your suggestion. “That would be a lot of fun. I’d love that.”

“I would get a night off? That sounds amazing to me.” you hear a heavy French accent behind you and you turn to the chef as he hands you your water. He winks at you with a smile and you return it before sipping your water.

“Wow!” you whisper at the taste.

“Everything is better in the higher class.” Yoongi whispers.

“MAYA!” You hear scream throughout the mansion and you cringe at the sharp noise.

Jesus, she is loud.

Everyone in this house is so nice and kind. Even if you feel uncomfortable living here, the people may make up for it.

“Yes, Madam?” Maya calls sweetly as her thin frame peeks down from the second floor.

Even from far away Sera is blindingly beautiful. Her cheekbones are high and filled perfectly, her lips are the perfect pout and her eyes are big and doe-like. She’s absolutely stunning.

“Didn’t I fucking tell you to put a different fabric softener in the laundry? I don’t like my clothes smelling like a fucking flower field!” She barks out as she throws something off of the marble balcony onto the floor.

“I’m sorry, Madam. I must have forgotten. I won’t forget again.” Maya promises as she scurries over to the dropped shirt.

It’s almost a sin to watch the sweet woman fumble over herself to please her. While she may be beautiful, she’s a bitch. And, you’d hate to be confronted by her by any means.

“Bitch.” you and Yoongi mumble at the same time. He chuckles to himself as her gaze lands on you and you find yourself wanting to cower but the way Maya shifts nervously makes you angry. Really fucking angry.

“What the fuck is that? A new maid? Or a dig ditcher?” Sera barks out as she points her perfectly manicured finger at you.

Yoongi opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “I’m Y/N. The mother of Yoongi’s child.” you call to her.

Her face begins to flush pink before she’s scoffing. “Should have picked someone prettier Yoongi, ugly women make ugly kids!” she calls down to him as she retreats back to her wing.

“Ugly personalities make ugly people.” you retort softly, bringing your glass of water to your lips.

The father of your child chuckles softly beside you and your heart warms at the noise.

“That’s the leech. I’m sure you’re thrilled to have met her.” you hum playfully in agreement before hopping off the bar stool.

The only thing in Yoongi’s mind is just how right this all feels. How perfect you are as a person, to each and every person you see. You’re strong willed and stronger than he previously thought but he likes it. And, he wants to see you come out of your shell here. He wants to see you thrive like a flower.

Maybe he should ease up on being so downright negative around you.

“Let’s do the rest of the tour and then you can relax. Alright?” he asks as he guides you to the staircase.

“Madam!” Maya calls to you and you don’t register the word for a second before turning to her with a smile.

“I’m really happy you’re here.” Maya says sweetly and you giggle as she bows to you.

“Me too, Maya. Thank you for being so welcoming!” you reply happily as you ascend the steps with the CEO.

“One half is mine, the other half is yours. My side is the right side and yours is, well obviously, the left.” Yoongi says as his hand drifts over the black quartz wall.

At the end of the long wing, you can spot rushing waterfalls that come out of the walls and into the floor, the sound is comforting as you get closer.

“So the third floor of the mansion is for my hobbies in particular and my home office. I rarely use my home office but it’s up there if you ever need me and I work from home.” Hobbies? What kind of hobbies does he have?

“Taehyung told me that you like painting? Apparently Leena talks a lot about you in her post coital glow-” you laugh at his words as he swings the first door open, “- So I got you some painting supplies and turned this room into a studio for you. It’s really bright so you can work well.”

It’s so thoughtful. The studio is beautiful, canvases of all sizes line the walls and the amount of paints and brushes are almost too good to be true.

“Thank you, Yoongi. That’s so kind of you.” you say as you step into the room.

Your fingers gently graze over the fluffy heads of the brushes before turning to him in the doorway and smiling.

“I do love to paint.” you say happily as he leans against the door jamb with folded arms.

“I just won’t paint anything orange.” he rolls his eyes with a snort at your comment before pushing off of the doorway and moving on to the next room.

“This is your closet. I had all of your clothes moved in here, even the ones you insisted on bringing here. I’m a giver.”

You roll your eyes at how degrading he is and you don’t even open the doors to your closet as you walk past.

You don’t care about materialistic objects like clothes or bags. You think the mansion is gorgeous but it’s just all materialistic stuff! It shouldn’t mean that much to someone.

“This is the nursery. It’s pretty empty still. Maya thought it would be a good idea to put in the rocking chair she used with me so...that’s in there.”

The admission makes your eyebrows raise. She must have taken care of him from when he was so small. Maybe Maya is like his mother, that’s why he loves her so much.

“Then this room is your room,” he continues on, not wanting to stand in the nursery for longer than two minutes. Just looking into the room reminds him of the pictures that sit heavily in his wallet.

When you open the doors to your room, the wind is almost knocked out of you. This is not a room. This is a fucking house. A small living room and a television situate themselves before your eyes and you walk around the thin marble wall that shields your bedroom from view.

You have a balcony, sitting chairs, a fucking vanity and the bed is so gigantic it can probably hold four people comfortably with room to spare.

Even the sight of the en suite bathroom is enough to knock you on your ass.

“Jesus Christ. This is... Wow.” you say breathlessly as you sit down on your bed.

“Now do the finer objects in life hold weight?” Yoongi jokes as he sits down in the armchair by the balcony.

“Not everything is about money, Yoongi.” you retort as your hand skims over the plush black comforter.

“No. Not everything. But, it’s still nice.” he says as he lifts his whisky glass to his lips.

“There’s a television in the bench at the end of the bed.” he whispers loudly across the room to you.

“A...television in a bench?” you mutter pulling your legs off of the bench and onto the bed.

“Mmmhmmm.” he drolls with a chuckle.

You’re so absolutely stunned at all of this. This is where you live now. This is your home.

He can tell just how starry eyed you are by all of this. It must be overwhelming to be thrust into such money from out of nowhere.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” he says as he slaps his knee. Your mouth opens and your hand raises to wave goodbye but he doesn’t look back at you.

You look around your room once more taking in all of the new gadgets and toys before throwing yourself back on your bed. Your hair fans out around your head as you stare up at the silver chandelier above you.

“Jesus Christ.” You mumble before turning and pressing your face into a pillow.

Next Chapter --->

Third Wheeling Taglist- @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @jooniebugg, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu,

Some people couldn’t be tagged, I’m so sorry about that!

#third wheeling #thebtswritersclub #btscreatorscorner #btswritingcafe #ceo!yoongi #ceo!au #ceo!bts #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi book #yoongi angst #slow burn

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theblacklupins · 2 years

Note

Sooooooooooooo Ivoove your wolfstar posts and stuff so I was wondering if you could do a Harry’s reaction to Wolfstar headcannon? Like maybe Lupins telling Harry (post Deathly Hallows) about how they were dating for from his third year to his fifth year and how he reacts?

Thanks if you decide to do it!!!

HIHIHI im so sorry this took so long for me to reply to BUT YES.

For angst, I’ll make it so Sirius has died and Remus lived<3

“Harry, are you happy with Ginny?”

Harry frowned, looking up at Lupin. The werewolf seemed tired, dark circles under his eyes and skin paler than it had ever been before. He looked as though he hadn’t slept for years.

But then again, Harry didn’t blame him; Lupin did just lose his wife and now had to raise his kid on his own.

“Very happy,” Harry answered hesitantly. “Why?”

Lupin shrugged. “Nothing— it’s just—” He sighed deeply, eyes weary. “I have something to get off my chest, and I think— I think you really deserve to know about it. I know Sirius would want you to know, anyway.”

Harry frowned. “Sirius? What’s he got to do with this?”

Lupin turned to face away from him, instead opting to stare at fireplace in the living room. They were in the Weasley’s new home, after the Ministry decided to give them a huge sum of money for their contribution during the war, and to compensate for Fred’s death.

“Sirius— well, we— we were together for some time.” Lupin trembled slightly. “We were boyfriends, while we were in school, and got together again after he’d gotten out of Azkaban.”

Harry’s mind spun. “And— and then he died.”

Lupin nodded. “And then he died.”

Harry felt confused, wondering how he’d never noticed interactions between the two of them. As though as if sensing his confusion, Lupin turned back to him. His eyes seemed glassy.

“We kept it a secret,” he said quietly. “We kept it under wraps, because we knew— a gay couple, one who was a werewolf and another that was disowned from the Blacks? A recipe for trouble. But we stuck through anyway.”

“Until he died.”

Harry felt as though his chest was caving in. And though he still felt confused, another emotion was stronger: grief.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice choking up. “I’m sorry you never got to spend more time with him. I’m sorry.”

Lupin’s tears welled up. “It’s not your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s faults. It just happened. No one needs to be sorry.”

Harry choked back his tears. “Still.”

Lupin smiled sadly. “Come on, Sirius wouldn’t want us to be crying over him. He’d want us to drink a bottle or two of beer and say a toast to his name.”

Harry let out a weak laugh. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Lupin’s smile widened, just the tiny bit. “I’ll get the glasses.”

#AHH #angst #remus john lupin #remus lupin #sirius black #sirius orion black #wolfstar #wolfstar angst #SO MUCH ANGST #harry potter

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dreamii-yume · 3 years

Note

IF YOU WRITE FOR GENSHIN I CAN DIE HAPPY 💖💖💖

THE DARLINGS HAVE SPOKEN. You are the representative.

...Testing...the waters of Genshin Impact..._:('ཀ'」 ∠): Might as well try it on the character that gets lewd less in this fandom lol

I welcome you, Dear Darlings, a Genshin Impact Sinfic written by someone who doesn't play or know anything about the game. I'm just really hornii.

♥︎♥︎ CHONGYUN ♥︎♥︎

♥︎ WARNINGS ♥︎

Yandere | Non-Con | Unhealthy Relationships | Angst | Depictions of Violence

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Darling wanted to be the best friend that Chongyun could ever have, but even someone as kind as her have their own limitations...Too bad she herself didn't know that until it was all too late.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

The first time it happened, it was an accident and quite frankly...It was your fault.

You already built a fairly decent friendship with the blue-haired exorcist ever since he came up to you, inquiring about evil spirits and such. At first you thought he was just another mischievous kid trying to pull a prank on you, but it soon became apparent to you of how serious he really was. He didn't look like he's someone who can lie about something like this either, with a such straight face nonetheless.

So, you gave me him honest answers about what you know, apologizing when he looked disappointed about it. Maybe it was early at that time where you've already grown a soft spot for the exorcist, lifting his spirits up by suggesting him a place that could very well be a hive of evil spirits. After all, even if you were nothing but a mere residence of Liyue, you were still confident of your knowledge when it comes the nation's different wonders.

...But of course, every other place you've accompanied him to had the same story as the others and thus, no evil spirits were around…Or at least, no evil spirits were around by the time the two of you got there. However, borne out of that journey was a new-found friendship between you and Chongyun, so it wasn't entirely out of naught.

When a bunch of hilichurls appeared out of nowhere coming in to attack the both of you, you were left astonished as the exorcist immediately came diving onto danger himself. With such a huge and heavy weapon, he strikes down his opponents in the most elegant of movements you've ever seen. His Cryo Vision aided him within every attack, giving you a slight attraction in the process and a cool, refreshing breeze drifted against the wind. Suffice to say, you were more than impressed and thanked him whole-heartedly, unconsciously taking his hand against yours out of excitement.

Recalling back, that was the first time you've seen him actively avoiding the trigger for his condition. He retracted his hands away from you, not in rude kind of way but in a genuinely concerned manner. That's when he explained his rare constitution, about his congenital positivity and how this excessive positive yang energy he speaks of can affect him and everything else around him. He told you about what he's not allowed to have or feel; Anything that accumulates heat and strong emotions, even intense thoughts alone are flying triggers.

It was your first time hearing such a condition, so you couldn't say that you understand it very well. But if it was something that he was actively warning you about, you were willing to go with what you understand for now and respected his wishes...Looking back at it now, you wished you could've been more straight-forward and asked him to elaborate even further. Maybe then, you would've had avoided a mistake that would ultimately lead you to an undesirable future.

That future didn't happen until a few months later as you kept contact with Chongyun and often found yourself enjoying spending time with him. Having been born into a simple family yourself, you weren't exactly the adventure type of person. Fighting wasn't in your blood, and you aren't very adept with any weapons, you're embarrassed to even say that you aren't very physically active like most people your age. Adventuring with lacking skills in the great depths of Liyue Harbor, let alone in Teyvat is practically a death wish that you wouldn't want to make. You were just someone who prefers to stay inside and live your life as it is, until Chongyun came in and sparked that sense of curiosity within you.

It was selfish, but perhaps it may be because you were with someone who was chosen by one of the seven Archons, someone who holds the abilities of a protector that you feel a sense of security with. You were finally able to explore the secrets of your nation without having to fear for an ambush or death. But still, as much as it felt nice being able to do such a thing, you couldn't get over at how you were practically using Chongyun's naivety and occupation to go wherever you like. You were essentially taking advantage of his skills, and it just didn't sit right with you...It felt wrong, so you wanted to make up for it at least.

You ended up inviting him to dinner one day, in your very own lovely home to serve him food as a gift. You weren't as talented as the chefs from Wanmin Restaurant in terms of culinary, but you were well enough to put a smile on people's faces. "Ah, but surely you know how my services are free of charges? Compensation is not needed; I only do what I must." You remembered Chongyun refusing your offer at first, his humble self had strike to you as sweet and innocent, but you persisted.

"Then, think of it as a treat from a friend if you will." You kept on insisting, not allowing him to go without even considering your suggestion. A few more convincing later, Chongyun's impeccable resistance finally crumbled down and with a sigh, accepted your tempting offer.

Of course, you made sure to keep his personal body condition at mind, making sure to avoid using ingredients that could harm him physically and mentally. But at this point, you weren't aware of the full extent of what congenital positivity can offer nor realized how serious it really is. You kept obvious ingredients at bay, but naively kept the ones that looked insignificant enough to not be a trigger.

Who knew a sprinkle of grounded black pepper can lead you in such a situation?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Spice~?

I was reading @cinnamonest 's Genshin Dicc Headcanons (Chongyun's Yandere Profile in general too (OwO) ) and found myself thinking, huh...Chongyun sounds like he has a really cold dicc and thus, this NASTY was born.

#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #chongyun #yandere chongyun #yandere #Sinfic

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starfire-s · 3 years

Text

here’s a list of the best, mediocre and worst kdramas i watched in 2020

no one asked for this but it’s happening because i have thoughts (also all opinions are my own if you disagree then get well soon i guess... no i’m kidding make your own posts about it don’t hate me please) ahsjsj anyways click to read a lengthy post and if you actually read the whole thing then thank you i hope you enjoy this wild ride!

THE BEST KDRAMAS -

mystic pop up bar - this show had everything i ask from a kdrama literally i can name it all found family (to real family), well thought out characters, a mystery plot, special effects, soft romances that were well written, a happy ending! no show in 2020 even comes close to how good this one was! the writers literally guided you throughout the whole thing so you could come up with theories and didn’t do a ‘aha! gotcha’ thing where they want to prove the audience wrong but they wanted us to be right and satisfied! the worst part about the drama is that it’s still so underrated and people just brush it off as some random fantasy show but it’s so much more than that! 1000/10

flower of evil - who doesn’t want to see lee joon gi being the son of a serial killer, living with the name of a man who is in a coma, and hiding his real identity from his wife who is a detective? this show constantly had me at the edge of my seat on a weekly basis so the emotions i went through while watching this are unparalleled! the writers also did such a good job on writing a coherent story that made sense and tied up all the plot points in the end. just a really satisfying show to watch! 10/10

where your eyes linger - i literally bought a $8 viki pass to watch this show so it should tell you everything you need to know about how i feel ahsjsj the episodes were 10 minutes long but we got a good story with well written characters who got character development in a total of 80 minutes it’s insane! honestly it’s still hard to believe this show had rookie actors because they were just so emotive that you could feel all the happiness, sadness, yearning and pining! probably one of my fave kdramas this year because of the acting that i always constantly rewatch! would recommend 10/10

crash landing on you - okay so this drama was actually released on my birthday last year and it was a time in my life when i was going through a lot so maybe it’s the comfort this show provided me through that time this is why i have such a soft spot for it? like the romance was good, it was funny, there was found family, the nk soldiers were all softies, there were strong female leads, soft male leads!!! ahh!! no other show on this list made me think about the unification of south korea and north korea irl because i wanted se ri and jeong hyeok to be together 4ever! but the only issue i had with this show was the ending they gave seung jun if they didn’t do that i’d give this show a 10/10 but just for that they get a 9/10

psycho but it’s okay - this was one of those shows where you’re literally like ‘wow everyone here needs therapy’ but this show was amazing i loved the story telling and how each episode related to children’s book/fairytales! the writers also did a good job with how carefully they talked about mental health in depth without villainising their characters but actually tried to make the audience understand why they were this way which included all the side characters too who had a well thought out story in each episode! also the dynamic between moon young, kang tae and sang tae was everything to me the actors all did an amazing job portraying their characters, it truly was a healing drama. the only thing i didn’t like about this show was the whole plastic surgery plot with the mother like that was very far fetched but it provided drama so i’ll let it slide because the rest was amazing. this show is a solid 8.5/10

18 again - another underrated gem! who would’ve thought a remake of that zac efron movie could be this good!! lee do hyun stole this show for sure the way he portrayed his character and gave heart eyes to his kids (when he’s only 25 irl was the best thing i saw this year ahsjs) i loved the family dynamics in this show, i loved how it talked about what it’s like to be young parents and how society still think it’s taboo to be divorced! it’s a show that makes you laugh and cry at the same time and that’s why everyone should watch it! however, the biggest clown thing this show did to me though was that i got sls for the first time while watching a kdrama... hwang in yeop if u’re reading this i love u and u deserved better 🤡 that aside this show was a 8/10

itaewon class - i actually didn’t watch this drama as it was airing because i thought i wouldn’t enjoy the plot but when i watched it i binged the whole thing in 2 days and my biggest regret is i didn’t watch it sooner! everyone knows i have a soft spot for park seo joon since he’s my favourite actor i’ve literally watched all his dramas like he could star in the trashiest drama out there and i’d still watch it and be like wow (looking at she was pretty 👀) this show aside from the acting had one of the best revenge plots in a kdrama! just watching a character realistically hustle his way to reach the top while fighting the corrupt man whose son killed his father was so so satisfying to watch! however, the love triangle in this show was questionable idk what they were trying to do with that but it personally annoyed me! but still i’ll give this show a 7.5/10 because i enjoyed it a lot!

do you like brahms? - kim min jae and park eun bin.. that’s all you need to know about why this is a good kdrama! i’m usually not a big fan of melodramas and everyone knows i prefer rom coms but this show was just so perfectly melo that i loved all the angst and pain we got!! also just watching two introverted people awkwardly fall in love was amazing! the characters story arcs were also handled pretty well with song ah finally learning to speak up for herself and joon young learning to express how he truly feels! but... the love square? was probably the most annoying thing the rest in my opinion was nicely done! i know people had mixed feelings about the ending but i loved that after all the pain joon young and song ah went through they got a happy ending together! 7/10

find me in your memory - okay this show started off very slow and it was confusing at the start but as it progressed everything in the plot started to fall into place! i mean this show really took opposites attract to a new level where the male lead could remember every single detail from his life but the female lead had to forget some of her traumatic memories to help her cope with her life! they were also tied together through a mutual character who was a big part of their lives in a different way! just an interesting melodrama with interesting characters i liked it! and moon ga young... i love you queen!!! 7/10

THE MEDIOCRE KDRAMAS -

more than friends - was the storytelling in this show groundbreaking? no. was the acting decent? yes. also probably the main reason i stuck with this show until the end! i think we can all agree lee soo had the best character development on this show he started off as a bad boy who wore one ear stud to actually becoming a well liked character... who else did it like him? no one. also the chemistry between the mains was 🔥 but the second male lead was so annoying is there a opposite word for second lead syndrome because i had that for sure! i think the best part about this show was the people i watched it with on here... shoutout to the five of us ahsjsj also this show introduced me to a talented actor/singer like ong seong wu (y’all know my kpop knowledge is nonexistent so no i didn’t know he was in a band called wanna one) all in all a predictable show but i had fun watching it so 6.5/10

tale of the nine tailed - i didn’t actually watch this show i watched it through gifs and instagram posts ahsjsjs so am i qualified to talk about my opinion definitely no... will I talk about it anyways yes lmao. lee rang deserved better that’s all goodbye and take care. 5.5/10

start up - probably one of the most awaited opinions. y’all thought this would be in the worst kdramas section but i decided to give this show some rights. the show started off strong, lost it’s way after episode 6 and then the last episode gave me what i wanted so i have mixed feelings. the writing was not the best i think we can all agree, love triangle as a plot device? wow so groundbreaking 🤡 the characters on the other hand... i loved every single one of them i mean ship wars? i don’t know her. the show had a lot of potential that was wasted but we also got some cute moments between the characters so there was really no winning or losing with this show? but in all honesty you can’t put a talented cast together like this and then just decide to give the audience a mediocre plot but the writers did exactly that! i think i can redirect y’all to my ‘crimes this show committed’ post for a in-depth analysis. lastly nam do san was a GOOD and REFRESHING male lead and ji pyeong was also a GOOD and FUN second male lead!!! this show gave me the ugliest ship war ever that i was transported back to my high school tvd days so thank you for that!! but the cast was loveable and all had a lot of chemistry together so here’s a 5/10 maybe that's too generous but... i think the reason why i didn't enjoy watching this show as much was definitely because of the tag on here lmao

THE WORST KDRAMAS -

the king eternal monarch - i miss clowning this show so much. the amount of braincells i lost while trying to understand this plot... i should be compensated by the writers. however, woo do hwan was a treat to look at on a weekly basis... however the writers kept decreasing his screen time even though he had a dual role... make it make sense? and i cannot comment on the plot of this show because i still don’t understand anything? also in my opinion tae eul and lee gon were the most bland couple of 2020, there was no chemistry between them and there was just a random kiss in episode 5 and they randomly said i love you... where was the development? also lee gon was soooo boring and such a one dimensional male lead! literally all the side characters were so much more interesting and the cast was good... but this plot. 2/10

do do sol sol la la sol - i wanna fight the writer who decided that the plot twist on the show would be that jun is a minor? i had no expectations from this show but it looked cute and nonsensical but that plot twist made me run the other way so fast that i never looked back! just because jun is a boy they really thought this would be excused like lmao we all have critical thinking skills???? the clown behaviour. a solid 1/10

record of youth - i hate this show so much. imagine not utilising park so dam who just starred in the biggest oscar winning movie to her full potential. imagine just making her a love interest to park bo gum’s character in the year 2020. i watched it up until episode 6 and i kept waiting for her character to get development... but it never happened so i dropped this show. also this show featured the MOST useless love triangle i have ever seen in my life like what was the point? also park bo gum’s characters family was straight up annoying (minus the grandpa) but they got so much screen time like that should’ve been given to park so dam... also villainising a gay side character for no reason at all in the year 2020? this show was a waste of my time i want the 6 hours i spent watching this back. -100/10

backstreet rookie - i watched one episode of this and literally wanted to rip my eyeballs out of my head. idk what ji chang wook was thinking when he signed this drama i think he lost his ability to read because that's the only reasonable explanation for why he chose to star in such a dumpster fire show! this show had a racist character... had a high schooler kiss an adult... sexist jokes... just the worst things you can think of in a drama... this show had it. i still can’t believe so many people watched this show to the point where it had better ratings than pbio... really made me question everyone’s taste? but sorry can’t relate my taste is excellent so here’s the rating this show actually deserves -1000/10

if you made it this far... thank you for reading. let’s continue to love some kdramas together and get clowned by others in 2021! looking forward to it 😅

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dameronology · 3 years

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all love {steve rogers}

summary: you had a lot to say to steve rogers after he left. finally, you get your chance.

warnings: angst, mentions of death

believe it or not, this version is actually the one with the happier ending than all the other ideas i had. so pls don’t hate me, bc this ain’t fluff :)

- jazz xx

Steve Rogers was a complicated man.

You knew that. You could see it in his eyes because you were just as complicated too. It was a blessing and a curse, really; it meant that you understood him just as much as you didn’t; sympathised with him just as much as you struggled. His emotions were clear as day and somehow, still twisted and unintelligible like a tangle of rainclouds in the middle of a stormy night. The history behind his blue eyes was long and confusing and it was unfair to expect you to decipher it when Steve could barely do it himself. He’d lived about a thousand lifetimes in the span of time that most people lived one - so you gave in on understanding, and chose to just love him instead.

It was easier that way, to just take it day by day and unpack his baggage as the super soldier saw fit. Sometimes it was hours and hours of talking; long and late nights, filled with tired eyes and the smell of caffeine. Stolen glances met with soft giggles and recounts of the war, the good times and the bad. Other times, it was more twisted. Deeper and darker. Strangled screams and cries lost to the night, large hands reaching for the gun under his pillow that posed the question of how fucking long has that been there, Steve?

In time, the good was worth the bad. You must had the patience of a fucking saint, because Steve finally stopped mourning for the past and began to look to the future. You hadn’t made solid plans -- that was foolish in your line of work. Between fighting aliens and robots, you were both blessed to have even made it this far. So, the day by day method worked in that sense too, and any big plans always became maybe. Maybe we’ll have kids one. Maybe we’ll move out of Brooklyn and to the suburbs. Maybe we’ll find a nice house with a picket fence and a garden big enough for Bucky to run around in.

What you had was beautiful, in the most complicated way. Because Steve Rogers was a perplexing man, but before that, he was kind and funny and sweet. He looked after you and you looked after him. Wrote you letters on long missions and left little notes for everyday that he was away. Sent you the dumbest good morning texts and the sweetest good night ones. For every emotional pitfall that you found yourselves in, Steve would turn up with a rope, even if he’d been the one to dig the hole in the first place.

It went more than just skin deep, twisting your souls together in some kind of emotional vortex that you wouldn’t have thought to be true had you not witnessed alien invasions and everything that followed. In fact, it was the everything that followed that you pushed you together even more - because it was the blip that had made you and Steve realised fucking important what you had was.

Those had been desperate moments. Painful, desperate moments. One minute, you’d been watching Wanda Maximoff cry out in pain for her lost love, and then she was gone. So was Bucky. And T’Challa. And Stephen Strange. In mere seconds; so quickly that your brain couldn’t even comprehend what was going on. It was as though somebody had turned your brain off for a few seconds - and when it rebooted, all you could think about was Steve.

You didn’t remember much from the seconds that followed, other than the burning in your lungs from how impossibly fast you had run, and how soar your throat was from screaming out his name. Then your bodies had collided with a thud, and you’d been met with a solid chest. Warm arms and big hands, that were completely and entirely there and not being dusted away. You’d never clung onto him so tightly, barely able to breath from how hard reality had just hit you. But he held onto you, and kept you standing - a metaphor which would stick to the next five years in the most bittersweet way.

The first few months were hard. Hard to stomach, hard to accept, hard to mourn. Everyone was floating around one another, still struggling to truly get over the fact that for once, the Avengers hadn’t won. You hadn’t gotten cocky, but after the Chitauri, and after Ultron, you had become hopeful. Nobody could blame you. Hope was all you’d had, really.

You found a routine. Steve found a reason to live in you, and you’d found an inkling of ambition in him. After a few months in the Compound, you’d gone back to your apartment in Manhattan. You’d never been more grateful to have it -- because when the entire world had changed around you, at least one thing was still the same. You could shut the door and lock it behind you, just existing as you always had in those four walls. The rest of the world didn’t matter, because it just you, and it was Steve, and that was the world. It was your world, and it was his.

After everything becoming so unpredictable, the stability that his presence brought was everything you needed. It cemented your need for one another - your love for another.

But unpredictably has a funny way of working, doesn’t it?

Never in a million years would you have imagined that the thing brought you closer would have been the thing to tear you apart. That restoring the world back to the state you’d longed for would bring an end to the only thing you thought was certain. You’d calculated every outcome of reversing the blip, thought about every way that it was everything you’d ever wanted. Finally, everything you’d lost would come back, and you and Steve could live as you always wanted. In the world you wanted.

But he wasn’t there.

One possibility you hadn’t considered was that Steve would have access to the time stone. You were both getting back to the world’s your mourned for, but they weren’t the same. You’d only been mourning the last five years, whilst Steve had been mourning the last seven decades. Somewhere along the long, you’d convinced yourself that the little bubble you’d built for yourselves was enough to cushion that. That your relationship, and your love, was enough compensation for the fact he’d lost everything.

Because Steve was good with words, but not quite enough to express to you how truly out of time he’d been. You saw the way his eyes glazed over when he spoke of the forties, but you couldn’t feel the pain in his chest when he heard an old record. You couldn’t fathom the suffocation he felt every time he saw pictures of his lost friends, or the weight on his chest that losing Peggy Carter had given him. It had alleviated slightly when he met you, but truthfully speaking, Steve Rogers hadn’t taken a deep breath since the final moments before his plane hit the ice in 1945.

The pain you felt when you realised that he’d well and truly left you for his old life was minute compared to what he’d been feeling since he woke up all those years ago. It didn’t matter, because pain was pain regardless. His relief didn’t negate your suffering. And, if you’d ever been wondering what you would have felt if you had lost Steve in the blip, you needn’t had looked any further. This was worst than him dying. This was worst than him slipping away with millions of others, because he’d chosen to do it. He’d thought about you, and everything you’d tried to give him, and he’d decided it wasn’t enough.

You didn’t get it at first. Couldn’t sympathise with his situation - but let’s face it. Who the fuck could? It wasn’t like there was a WikiHow article on how to get over the love of your life time travelling back to the 1940s and leaving you in ruins. For the first time since you’d met Steve all those years ago, you were forced to process all your emotional trauma on your own. To stand on your own two feet without his broad arms supporting you in the way they had on the battlefield in Wakanda.

It took time. You processed it with time. Drank a lot, cried a lot, screamed a lot. Found solace in your friendships with Bucky and Sam; even if they’d been a little much at first, forcing you to share the payload of your pain with them had helped. At times, it was like going to group therapy with Spongebob and Patrick, but you held them close to your heart. You learnt to find joy and appreciation in other things, and to tune out Steve, and the mention of his name.

That was until March 2021, almost two years to the day that he had left you standing on the lakeside in the Compound. You’d been driving home from work and his name had been mentioned on the radio - Captain America, former war hero and super soldier, has died aged 103.

It didn’t sting too much. You’d mourned Steve Rogers a long time ago - at least the version of him that you knew. It made your chest hurt a little that he was truly and completely gone, and that you would never have a chance to talk to him. You’d toyed with the idea of going to visit him in his old age. Part of you wanted to know if he remembered you, even if for him, everything you’d had together had been decades ago. Even though you’d existed together in the future, your life together was cemented entirely in the past the minute you’d went back. Decades had passed before you existed at the same time again, and you wondered if time had been enough for him to forget. Two years for you had been seventy for him. It was thought that had made you shy away from ever talking to him, because you didn’t want to know. You were scared of the answer.

Maybe that was why you were only seeing him now; on a rainy day, when the man you’d once loved was six feet under and surrounded by a ridiculous headstone you knew he would hate. The air around you was cool, sky tinged grey and a few droplets splashing against the grey stone, making it turn a slightly darker shade. There were no tears; just a deep sigh, and an awkward shuffle as you wriggled your toes in your boots and thought about what the fuck you wanted to say.

‘Hey, Cap.’ You murmured. ‘Can I call you that? I used to call you babe. No, I don’t know why I said that. That’s fucking weird. Like this whole situation, because somehow, even though I’ve dealt with aliens and gods, saying goodbye to you is one I was never truly prepared for.’

Your eyes fell to the floor, and you continued. ‘You suck, Steve Rogers. You really fucking suck. You know that, right? That it’s a dick move to go back to your old life without even leaving a note? Or a text? Heck, I would have been happy if you spelt it out on the fridge in magnets.’

‘It’s okay, though.’ You smiled. ‘I’m not mad anymore. Okay, maybe I am a little, but not as I used to be. I understand why you did it, but I also get that I’ll never understand at all. I’ll never get how existing in a time that wasn’t yours felt, or how out of place you must have been in a world seventy years ahead of what you knew.’

‘And I’m sorry, I guess. Sorry that I didn’t try harder, but also sorry that whatever I tried to give you wasn’t enough to make up for what you’d lost.’ You sniffed. ‘This is where you’d tell me to shut up and stop being so hard on myself. So I will, because we’re both at peace now and that’s the most important thing.’

There were a few tears then; not for the man beneath you, but for the man that had left you. When all the anger subsided, you realised that above all, you just missed him. You missed the late night conversations when you couldn’t sleep, and you missed how warm he felt beside you when you did finally drift off. You missed the way he laughed at your driving skills and the way he would eat your side salad because you hated it. You longed to his hear his singing in the shower in the morning, and to squeal at him for pressing his cold feet to your back to wake you up.

‘Above all, Steve Rogers, I’m just grateful I had you, even for a few years.’ You took a deep breath. ‘The pain I felt when you left was unbearable, but it wasn’t permanent. The memories you gave me, and the love I felt for you? That’s gonna stay with me forever.’

You wiped away a few tears, smiling to yourself when the clouds above you cleared slightly. The grey ones that had been lingering all morning had shifted slightly, allowing for the sunlight to peak through and cast a glow over your surroundings. Tiny, dewy raindrops lingered on the grass, enveloping the world around you in the smell of petrichor and relief. You’d never believed in fate, or the afterlife, or messages from the underworld, but that? You hadn’t felt a rush like that the last time you woke up beside him.

‘So, thanks I guess.’ You glanced up at the sky, blinking under the bright sun. ‘And rest easy, Cap.’

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers imagine #avengers angst #avengers fan fiction #marvel x you #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fan fiction

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

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❤️Volition by Aerlalaith

❤️Volition

by Aerlalaith

T, 33k, wangxian, 2 works

Summary: Wen in body, Wei in motion, Lan Wangji is certain he has never hated, nor loved, any being so much as he feels towards the boy in his room.

After Wei Wuxian's death and his own severe punishment, Lan Wangji must decide the direction his life will take.

My comments: This. Is. AMAZING. I'm so bowled over, and I spent at least 20 minutes crying while I should have been up and cooking dinner, and I just got sucked in SO HARD, and all the FEELS and the anguish and the love asdkfsdaldkjf!

In which Lan Wangji drifts in and out of awareness after his whipping and slowly clocks A-Yuan, who has been sneaking into his room. But mostly he is drowning in pain and grief and hopelessness, so A-Yuan just stays there, at the fringes of his thoughts, mostly just reminding him painfully of Wei Wuxian and the aching emptiness he left behind him. Until lwj learns that A-Yuan is to be given away to a couple in Caiyi Town.

This story is on par with To be of use by Erisette and, on a slightly less devastating scale, no new age by everythingispoetry. It's definitely a favorite, and I could just roll around in another 70k words of it. I don't know if author is planning to do more than just these 2 works... I'd be delighted if so, but am fully satisfied with what I've got. Ah, I've been through the wringer in the best way. I love it.

canon compliant, 33 lashes, discipline whip, hurt lan wangji, major character injury, injury recovery, hurt/comfort, grief/mourning, feels, FEELS I TELL YOU, angst, brotherly feels, kid fic, accidental baby acquisition, character study, character growth, found family, family issues, adoption, family of choice, parent-child relationship, single father lan wangji, unhealthy coping mechanisms, (that one incident with the alcohol and branding), depression, learning to parent, growth and recovery, learning to love, trauma, nightmares, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, protective lan xichen, A-YUAN, being adorable, healing, happy ending, you’re plenty compensated for the angst so don’t fear, favorite, @aerlalaith

(You may wish to REBLOG as a signal boost for this author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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bookishofalder · 3 years

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Night Changes [One]

Night Changes Series Masterlist

Summary: It may have been years since Poe and the reader have seen one another, but that doesn’t make the emotional upheaval any easier to navigate for either of them.

Warnings: Fuck ton of angst, language, a lot of feelings, mentions of death and loss, grief. WC-5,780 (Jesus buckle up I guess!)

Poe was dreaming.

Nothing particularly special, but it was a dream nonetheless, a break from the usual nightmares that tended to invade his sleeping mind night after night when all he wanted was to succumb to the darkness for a few hours. The dream was more of a memory, a replaying of a night back on Yavin-4 so many years ago before he and Charlie had gone to flight school.

A night like every other, yet the humid evenings on Yavin 4 always did seem to hold a little mystery, like a warm blanket that wrapped one in a false sense of security; he could do anything. And on that evening, he had snuck some of his father’s good whiskey, the stuff from a planet far, far away, and gone to knock on Charlie’s window in the cover of darkness. It wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence, though the whiskey was a new addition.

Charlie had answered immediately, a big grin stretching across his face even before he saw what Poe had brought, the relief in that grin piquing his curiosity-why did he seem grateful that Poe was there? When he climbed through the window, he found you were already there, sat on the floor across the small bedroom with your back against the end of Charlie’s bed, your face wet with tears and he understood your brothers reaction.

Before Poe could ask what was wrong, Charlie noticed the bottle in Poe’s hands and tapped it excitedly, “Just what we needed! How do you do it, brother?” His voice was always so loud, but in the Horn household it wasn’t an issue. Your mother was asleep on the other side of the house and even if she did wake, she wouldn’t come in and begrudge a little teen rebellion. Poe really liked her for that, for trusting them, for never making him feel unwelcome.

“Didn’t realize it would come in so handy. What's going on, sweetheart?” The affectionate nickname had been around for years, so long now that he hardly noticed himself using it. He liked the way it tugged the corners of your lips up, even when you were sad. But he didn’t like that you were sad right now, his concern only growing when you pulled your knees to your chest and dropped your head to them, hiding your face and, no doubt, a fresh wave of tears.

You had always hated crying in front of them, for some reason. Charlie never cried, but Poe had no issues with sobbing outright in front of you both. He didn’t understand why you felt you had to hide it from him.

Without speaking, Charlie and Poe sat down on either side of you, your brother taking the whiskey and opening it, taking a small swig and huffing through the smoky burn.“Kid, you tell him.” He used that extra soft voice reserved only for you, his free hand reaching over to pat your foot on the ground next to him.

Poe had his shoulder pressed against yours. He knew you enjoyed how warm he always was, that you thought of him as your personal furnace, cuddling him even on warm days like this because you seemed to forever run a little chilly, or maybe you were just a touchy person and you were that comfortable with Poe.

After a few moments of quiet sniffling, you finally raised your head, setting your chin on your knees and staring straight ahead. “Gus ended things earlier.” You whispered into the moonlit room, your voice wavering somewhat with emotion, though Poe could sense it was more of embarrassment and disappointment of being dumped than that of actual heartbreak.

Poe felt an odd mixture of both anger and relief sweep through him, the latter of which he resolutely shoved away, into the far reaches of his mind to be stubbornly ignored. “That kriffing asshole! Who does he think he is, dumping our girl?” And truly, what the fuck audacity did that guy have? Did he not have eyes? Did he not spend just five minutes with you and feel like he was sitting in the company of a Sun, so bright and warm as you were?

You gave a watery laugh at his words, and Poe felt warmth pool in his chest; he was always good at making you laugh. He saw Charlie’s shoulders sag somewhat with relief upon hearing you, always so protective and yet he had difficulty reigning in some of your big emotions, often looking to Poe for his help.

“He said it was because I’m a prude. Because I wouldn’t, you know,” You broke off, and Poe glanced down at you to see you bite your lip briefly, eyes still forward, “He said there was no point going on dates if I wouldn’t even give him the chance to, and I quote, ‘appreciate your tits properly, at the least.’”

Poe turned to face you fully now, his eyes meeting Charlies over your head. His friend looked just as annoyed as Poe felt, hearing what that skinny piece of shit had dared to say to you. A silent agreement crossed between them then, Gus would be meeting their fists come morning. For now, though, Poe focused on you, tossing an arm around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your hair, “He’s a prize fucking idiot, sweetheart, doesn’t know what he’s losing. Right, Charlie?”

“Exactly. Remember kid, no guy is ever going to deserve you because you are perfect. You don’t need to cry over someone who can’t see how lucky he is you even let him breathe the same air as you,” Charlie added his arm to your shoulders, curving under Poe’s, “Flyboy and I will take care of you, always.” He promised, and you nodded before reaching both hands up to grab each of theirs on your shoulders.

“Thank you.”

And Poe stayed the night, each of you taking turns to sip the whiskey until eventually sleep won out and Charlie crashed on his bed. You and Poe curled up on some pillows on the floor together, your head resting on his chest and even though he knew you were sad, which made him sad too, he couldn’t help but feel truly whole in those moments before sleep took over.

It was a good memory, one which he would have been content to remain in until the abrupt and incessant whirring and beeping of his droid woke him, Poe shooting up in his bed with a shout of surprise. “What? Are we being attacked?”

BB8 came to a stop near the edge of his bed, his noises growing quieter now that he’d woken Poe up.

“Buddy, it’s my day off. You better have a good reason for scaring the living hell out of me-“

The droid beeped again, clarifying his reason for interrupting his rest day. Interest piqued, Poe ran a hand over his face before planting his feet on the floor and leaning towards the droid.

“The new replacement is here? Guess that means the General wants me to come and meet them?”

BB8 confirmed, and now his alarming wake-up made more sense. The droid was as excited as Poe to meet his new second in command. He’d just lost his long-time friend, Jess Pava, to a new unit on an outpost for the Resistance. He’d recommended her for it, at her bequest, because he knew she’d be damn good for the role. But it didn’t make the loss any less disruptive; she’d been gone a few weeks now and he’d had to take on extra duties to compensate.

General Organa had profusely apologized to him a few times now, only explaining that the replacement was due back from a classified mission ‘soon’, and once they were they would be coming straight to D’Qar to join his squadron. He didn’t mind the work, but he was a little miffed that the day the new Major arrived was his only day off.

Poe quickly got himself ready for the day, taking a speedy shower in his fresher before pulling on his khaki’s and button up. Once pleased with his appearance, he stepped out of the fresher and walked toward his small desk area, above which he had a corkboard with a few mementos pinned up, including his favourite picture.

You were standing in the middle, sandwiched between him and Charlie, a big, goofy grin on your face. Charlie was laughing in the photo, and Poe was looking down at you with a fond smile. You all wore flight suits, as it was taking when you had first joined Gold Squadron. Charlie had his arm flung over your shoulders while Poe’s was snaked around your waist. You had your arms wrapped around each of their waists, though Poe remembers how your hand had brushed up his back before the picture was taken, fingers unknowingly leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

He looked at this photo every morning, tapped it once and then carried on with his day. It was the only time he allowed his conscious mind to think of Charlie, of you, and the life he lost in the blink of an eye.

When the door to his quarters opened, Poe saw a few service droids unloading a couple of crates into the room directly across from his. The room where the new member of his team would live. He could see within the unit as the door was open for the droids to carry items in, a few cases already inside the otherwise bare space.

Being careful to step around the droids and avoid falling over his own, who was wheeling excitedly along next to Poe, he made his way to command, hoping the introductions wouldn’t take too long. He had woken up with a big appetite.

And he really needed his morning caf.

“Ready to meet them, buddy?” He asked of his droid, and BB8 gave a happy little ‘weeee’ as he zoomed along beside Poe. He laughed loudly and BB8 pulled ahead, the doors of the command room opening at their approach.

Poe could see into the room now, activity within quiet enough that General Organa and the new arrival both heard his laughter and turned as he walked into the room. For a few beats, Poe kept walking, his mind not processing what he was seeing because it simply could not be. And then he froze, mid-stride.

It was you.

And from the patch on your uniform, it was now Major Horn.

And just like that, every emotion, every feeling of guilt and self-hatred and heartbreak came roaring to the surface, breaking through the walls he’d so carefully built up around what he’d done when he lost Charlie, when he’d lost you, walls he spent the last few years reinforcing as best he could.

Leia knew of the history, though she didn’t know any details of why neither of you had spoken since that terrible fucking night. She simply knew you’d all grown up together, which was probably why she hadn’t felt the need to warn Poe that it was you coming to take over as his second in command. Maybe she thought you had kept in touch and were expecting her.

Stars, Poe hadn’t seen you in person since the funeral. The night he ruined the best thing he had in his life because he couldn’t deal with his grief and took it all out on you, of all people. Poe thought of Charlie then because your brother and you looked a bit alike, but it was your eyes; you each had the exact same eyes. Though yours were lined with thick, long lashes that would sometimes tickle Poe’s cheeks when you would lean in and press a chaste kiss to them.

It had only been a few years, but so much about you had changed. Gone was the goofy girl with braids falling past her shoulders, her big smile that stretched from ear to ear. No, now Poe was looking at you and you were all grown up, wearing your uniform, hair pulled back into a low bun that was woven with intricate braids, a few wisps framing your face. You had leaned out slightly, though you still had your curves, the ones that had boy after boy falling for you back in the day-no doubt now it was man after man. He found his eyes flicking from your face to your hands, but he saw no ring. Not that he should even be thinking of whether you were single or not.

But somehow, it felt like he should know if you were with someone. Because Charlie would have expected Poe to always keep an eye on you, be there for you. The only person he let down more than Charlie was you. He knew his best friend would murder him if he knew the things Poe had said to you that night. He had never known a greater regret, a regret that he carried with him since the moment he spoke and watched your face contort in pain, as though he’d hit you with a physical blow.

He had wanted to apologize, to take it all back that very moment. He couldn’t believe himself, but you’d pull away to be sick and he was so shocked at how much he’d managed to hurt you that he couldn’t do anything other than listen to you when you ordered him to get away from you.

The irony of that wasn’t lost on him, either.

He’d walked straight to the hangar where his x-wing was parked and took it out, finding a secluded spot a few hours away to camp for two days, just to clear his head. He cried and grieved and then he realized just how badly he’d fucked up and he panicked. He started to plan how he would apologize, what he would do to earn your forgiveness and then tell you how he truly felt. But he failed you, hurt you, and he knew he had a lot of work ahead to repair what he’d broken.

Only, when he came back to base and sought you out, he instead found Jess and Tommy waiting for him by your room, their faces so grim his heart had stopped in his chest, and he’s not sure it ever restarted once he found out you’d left. Without a word or a note, you had just...deserted him.

And he knew he deserved it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Nor did finding out that you’d been clever enough to have your new assignment sealed, eliminating any chance he could have had of going after you.

And he would have. He’d have flown across the galaxy to find you.

Instead, Poe was alone and never, ever forgave himself for being the reason you had fled in the first place.

Eventually, Poe grew enough in rank that he was able to access your private files. He only did so now and again, just to check-in and make sure you were still alive and on active duty. The last time he’d checked had been about five months ago, and it had stated you were on a classified mission that even he couldn’t access the details of. But he knew you were alive and doing well enough that you were getting assigned seriously high-class missions. Charlie would have been so proud of you.

It was a few awkward moments before Poe was able to function, quickly shaking off his shock and continuing forward, his eyes tearing away from your too-blank expression to meet the warm gaze of General Organa. “Commander Dameron, I believe you know Major Horn here. Thank you for coming to greet her with me this morning.” Leia smiled between him and you, and Poe had to swallow before returning it, breaking out his usual grin.

When he looked back at you, he found your blank expression had now morphed into one of utter contempt. An insane part of him wanted to laugh, because how could (y/n) Horn, his best friend since he was a boy, the girl who had owned his heart, ever look at him like that?

Instead, Poe forced a friendly smile, nodding to you politely, “Welcome, Major. It’s...it’s good to see you. And congratulations on your promotion. I’m happy to have you join our team.” He stuck his hand out and hoped you would grasp it.

Your eyes, so much more intense than he ever remembered, searched his face for a second before you took his proffered hand and shook, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“It’s an honour to be here, Commander.” You replied, and Poe had to blink, pulling his hand way almost too quickly. Stars, you even sounded more grown-up. Your voice had always been a little breathy, which Poe had always found alluring. But now it had matured, the breathless way you spoke now demure, feminine.

“I was just telling Major Horn that after you two had met the day was open,” Leia said, seemingly unaware of the tension between her two best pilots, “I know you earned this day off, Commander, so enjoy it!”

Poe couldn’t help but give her a wide grin, “Thank you, General.”

“Yes, thank you for taking the time to...reunite us, General.” You said, excusing yourself before abruptly walking past Poe and out of command.

He rushed after you, BB8 still at his side, now beeping in confusion at what the hell was going on. Poe ignored the droid, catching up to you just down the hall. “Wait...(y/n)...”

He trailed off, unsure of what he could even say to you, questioning why he’d stopped your departure. You ceased walking and turned to look at Poe, your expression now openly hostile, which he knew he deserved yet it still stung. He opened and closed his mouth a few times as he stood before you, a huge part of him wishing you’d start yelling at him. Or hitting him.

Instead, you gazed up at Poe and after a moment your face fell, a storm of emotions rolling across your pretty features. You took a careful, measured step back from him, as if afraid he might try and reach out to you. “I didn’t know I was coming here to be on your team,” You didn’t meet his eyes when you spoke, instead focusing on the droid at his feet, “But this is a big opportunity for me, so we’ll make it work.”

You sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself rather than Poe, but he nodded all the same. “Of course. And you deserve it.”

You scoffed, “Thanks so much, Commander.”

“I’ve missed you.”

He didn’t know what possessed him to say that. It was just that one moment you were biting your lip, and then the next you were giving him a familiar look of incredulity that he remembered receiving more than once growing up and he suddenly needed you to hear that he did miss you. Missed you more than you could ever really know.

Poe saw a flash in your eyes before you spun on your heels and marched away, not looking back. He didn’t try to follow you again. He knew there wasn’t a whole lot he could say, not right now when you were both still reeling from the shock of seeing one another again.

And what could he even say to you? Sorry for taking our friendship and smashing it to pieces at the worst possible time? For never speaking to you again because I was too cowardly to try and find you, especially once I realized how deeply I felt for you? And how could he explain how those feelings seemed to develop over such a long time that he didn’t recognize them for what they truly were until you were gone?

Charlie would have hated what had happened between you both. He would have killed Poe, easily, but he’d had also been disappointed in you. Charlie had protected you both that day because you and Poe were his family, and if he found out that his family never spoke again after the funeral? He’d have been livid.

Guilt and regret now at the forefront of his mind, Poe had lost his appetite. Instead, he found the nearest caf machine before hurrying to the flight deck and climbing in his x-wing eager to get off the ground and clear his head for a few hours.

He spent the rest of the morning thinking about Charlie, his heart tight in his chest.

✨

“I’ve missed you.”

You could hit him, you really could. No one was around, either, you might get away with it. But that would be too easy and not nearly as satisfying as you might hope, you knew.

The audacity of Poe fucking Dameron saying he missed you was so infuriating, you briefly considered violence. But you had grown up with him, knew the way he worked even if it had been a few years. You could hate him and still understand him, which meant that he wanted you to give him a strong reaction that he could confront head-on. Scream and punch and cry and he would instantly work to comfort, to apologize, but it was really just a way to make himself feel better.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

You spun away-not before seeing the pained expression cross his face-and hurried off. You figured if you still had such a decent read on him, the same went for Poe. He’d always been able to read you, your body language, expressions, hell Charlie usually went to Poe for help when he couldn’t figure out how to support you, comfort you.

You needed some time alone, time to process and figure out the best way to make this work.

When you were invited by the General herself to come to D’Qar, to work under her ‘top pilot and most trusted Commander’, you hadn't blinked before saying yes. And you’d known that it would mean, inevitably, seeing Poe again-you knew he still worked here. But you’d had no idea until he walked into command that morning that it was his team you were joining.

When you’d been standing with General Organa in the control room, chatting amicably about the weather, the very last thing you’d expected to hear was his booming, rich laugh. And then the doors had opened, a small droid whizzing in, and his laughter continued as he stepped into the room. You had thought you might pass out, throw up, or start screaming.

With no idea what he was doing there, you had simply stared at him, watched as he reacted to seeing you. Actively working to keep your expression blank, you stared at your once best friend for the first time in years, going numb inside.

In some ways it had been almost comical; he’d frozen mid-step and gaped at you stupidly for a few beats before coming to his senses and continuing forward. And it was at that moment you had realized he was the superior you were meeting. He was the Commander you’d be working under. When he stood directly in front of you, your mind betrayed you by immediately zoning in on one specific thought.

But stars, he’d aged well.

When he finally was able to collect himself enough to wipe the surprise off of his face, it had settled into that easy smile you remembered so well. The one you tried to never think of because of the pain that would build in your chest, the memories and feelings that you had refused to look back on for a very long time now at risk of bursting through your mental walls if you weren’t careful.

Now, that smile revealed a slight crinkling around his eyes, though he hadn’t changed much beyond that. He was just as broad and lean as you remembered, just as handsome and you thought he might be a little more built up, a new layer of muscle moving under his button-up. Charlie would have loved to tease him over the grey flecks you could barely discern in his raven locks, and you suddenly wondered if your brother would have had any grey hair himself.

Those thoughts were fleeting at that moment before fury and sadness and longing were suddenly overtaking you and it was all you could do to remain composed in front of the General when, for the first time in years, you wanted to crumble to the ground. That fucking grin of his, it was always maddening, always so attractive and disarming.

When you were kids, he’d do it to get away with something and even though your parents knew he’d done it, it would work and he’d barely get a slap on the wrist. As teenagers, the strongest memory you had of that grin was one time when he’d climbed into Charlie’s room late at night and your brother wasn’t there-he’d fallen asleep on the couch-so Poe wandered to your room.

You had just gotten out of the fresher, having taken a quick rinse off to cool down, and hadn’t shut the door. Your bedroom door was closed and it was the middle of the night; you hadn’t expected any company. And then Poe just sauntered in, his eyes on your bed where he doubtless thought he’d find you. You had barely had time to freeze, completely naked and mid-stride as you sought a clean nightgown when he seemed to sense you. His head had jerked in your direction in surprise.

That memory forever burned into your mind. The way his eyes had fallen, then snapped up to your face and instead of seeing amusement or a pervy smirk, Poe had slapped his hands over his eyes, cursed, apologized vehemently in a loud whisper, and then he grinned. That grin, just as powerful even though his eyes were covered. It spread across his face and you couldn’t help but laugh despite your embarrassment, quickly throwing on a nightgown before walking over and punching him in the sides a few times, hissing didn’t he know how to knock?

And though you worried it might affect things between you and your best friend, it never did seem to. For you, it did in some ways because you couldn’t seem to get the look on his face (the one that slipped out just before he could properly react and compose himself) out of your head and you wondered what it meant-if anything. He still stayed the night, climbing into your bed, his arms casually behind his head as he laid next to you and told you about his day while never once teasing you.

At one point, when sleep was close, eyes drooping and your cheek resting against his arm, Poe’s soft voice had pulled you from unconsciousness. Barely a whisper, he said, “I really am sorry I came in without knocking, sweetheart. Please forgive me.”

And he’d sounded so concerned, so genuinely stressed that you would be mad at him, you had snuggled closer into his side and murmured your reassurances until eventually, you fell asleep.

Today, however, it was only memories of what that smile used to mean to you and anger for what it was now. That he got to keep that easy fucking grin all these years, it only pissed you off. The logical part of you knew he had been just as surprised to see you and was no doubt struggling himself now, but you didn’t have room to care.

He had been the one to break you, to take your friendship and pulverize it by saying the worst possible things to you.

He had broken you.

That fight hadn’t just been the loss of what you had thought was the greatest friendship in the galaxy. It had been the final moment that took your life from carefree and fun to what it was now, what it had been since. Joyless, lacking, lonely-so fucking lonely.

That had been the night you had to grow up, realizing that not only was Charlie gone, but the life you’d had was too. Gone were the days of adventure, of going on test flights and racing one another, of Poe getting you drinks at the cantina and Charlie sitting with his arm slung casually over your shoulders, until any of you spotted someone who caught your interest. Someone who would only be around for the night but would bring a little pleasure and escape. Charlie was more often the one to go home with such a person, happy to play the field and often making new friends you’d see again, even though he never exclusively dated them.

And the little flare of excitement you’d get each time it was just you and Poe? That had been carefree too because whatever it meant didn’t need to be examined, it just was. Casual touches that lingered and sent heat up your spine, easy and flowing conversation, long hugs even when you’d see each other the next day. All of that had been such a prominent fixture in your life, the slow escalation between you and Poe was something that, to this day, you never tried to understand.

But then Charlie died; everything changed, and you left and never looked back. All the while, Poe Dameron kept grinning like that. Fuck, fuck!

You almost walked straight past your new room, so lost in your thoughts and memories, but thankfully a passing droid greeting you politely pulled to the moment, and you only had to retrace a few steps back. Immense relief washed over you the moment you saw that all of your items had been delivered and unpacked, only a box of mementos and photos left on your desk for you to find new homes for.

Even the bed had been made already. And as much as you wanted to just climb under the covers and shut the world away, you instead set yourself to the task of putting the final touches on your space.

The room was silent save for your occasional gasps and hiccups as you let your emotions run free in the privacy. You proudly displayed the plaque you had been given from the Resistance following Charlie’s funeral; a handsome photo of him in uniform set in the middle, his name inscribed along with his rank, years of life and final resting place on Yavin-4. His flight suit patch was attached to the plaque above the photo, the final touch to a beautiful little tribute to Charlie that you could take with you wherever in the galaxy you went.

The final item you pulled out was a small protective album for photos you displayed in your room. You pulled out the photos, ones of you and Charlie as kids, of your parents, of the whole family plus Poe during one hilariously disastrous little vacation that resulted in all of you returning home and ignoring one another for three days, even Poe. A few from your teen years, early and late, Poe and Charlie usually taking up the most space in the photos between their sizes and huge smiles, and the final photo you had was your absolute favourite.

Smushed between Charlie and Poe, you had a smile on your face that hadn’t been seen in years. It was silly, girlish and youthful and not the person you were anymore. You were looking at the camera, Charlie with his big arm over the top of your shoulders, laughing as he looked toward the camera as well. Poe was looking at you. Giving you a warm smile that you always suspected he only shared with you, one that melted his eyes to pools of warm honey and made your insides wriggle. You remember how his hand burned where he gripped your waist, and you had instinctively traced your hand up his spine in the moment, though you never understood why.

That photo both broke your heart and made you smile every time you looked at it. The last photo of the three of you together, the three of you happy. A photo that not only showed your love for one another but also hinted at that feeling you never did examine. A photo that revealed that feeling might not have been one-sided, not at all.

When you finished your tidying, you took a seat at your desk and used your data pad to pull up your schedule, curious what the days ahead would look like. Right away you could see no missions in the queue, though that could change in an instant. And as eager as you were to get flying, you knew it would probably be best to spend the next couple of days trying to establish yourself on base, meet the rest of your team, and figure out how you were going to keep a cool head spending so much time working with Poe.

With a heavy sigh, you glanced at the clock and decided a late lunch was in order, hopeful that the weird hour would leave the caf quiet. Although you knew you’d be recognized you did hope to push that off for as long as possible.

You needed to swallow back your feelings and face the fact that you weren’t just working directly for General Leia. You were back on D’Qar; a planet that Charlie had spent enough time on, even before you joined Gold Squadron, to make lasting friendships and leave an incredible reputation behind after he’d died. You hadn’t been back since the funeral, so it was inevitable that others would be bringing him up, asking after you, where you had disappeared to, why you’d left without saying goodbye to pretty much everyone.

You needed to suck it up because you had a job to do and your work for the Resistance was the only thing anymore that made your life worthwhile. No family, no close friends, no partners, just fighting the fight and being the best damn pilot you could be.

You wondered if Charlie would be proud of you. Of how far you’d come, of the fact that you were now the same rank as he had been before his death. But after seeing Poe today you knew that wouldn’t have entirely been the case, not with how things all ended up.

So, you reasoned with yourself, that meant that you had to work extra hard here on D’Qar to push aside the history between you and your Commander. And actually, indifference and coldness were probably going to be your best assets going forward.

At least you had a game plan.

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