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krirebr · 2 days

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More Than This 5

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, all of the Thrombeys being really awful actually, explicit language, references to bad sex, flagrant disregard for HIPAA (actually, just assume that HIPAA doesn't exist in this universe), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Oh god. I promise that there will be a point when this isn't so sad all the time and that point is soon. But it also isn't today. I'm so sorry. 😬

Huge thanks as always to @paperweight91 who listened to me whine and read countless fuzzy screenshots, and gave great advice and was just all around awesome. And to @stargazingfangirl18 who reached out with encouragement when the words just weren't coming.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Ransom had the complete collection of Harlan’s books. You couldn’t say exactly why that surprised you, but it did. He even had the two poorly-received romance novels Harlan had written under a pseudonym. You hadn’t known the two of them were so close, but then again, you still didn’t really know anything about Ransom.

So that’s what you’d been doing with your days, making your way through Harlan’s complete works. You were currently reading one about an au pair that had been found dead in her charge’s locked nursery when your phone rang.

Your brow furrowed. The list of people who ever contacted you had gotten much shorter since you’d moved to Boston. Steve, Ransom, Linda unfortunately. That was pretty much it. You looked down at your phone to see your mother’s name. Oh.

You’d expected her to reach out in some way since your wedding and had tried very hard not to feel hurt when she hadn’t. Everyone’s lives had moved on. You were the only one stuck. But you still hadn’t had it in you to be the one who called her. You took a deep breath and answered your phone.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Honey! How are you?”

You kept in your sigh. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“Good, good,” she said, but she sounded sad. She always sounded so fucking sad. It struck you then, that that’s probably how you’d sound too, in ten or twenty years. Maybe less. Probably a lot less. “It’s so nice to hear your voice honey.”

“Yeah,” you said, and, pathetically, you could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes. You weren’t angry with her. You couldn’t be. It wasn’t her fault she was so broken. It was inevitable. For all of you. And your frustration with her didn’t change how much you missed her. Missed home. Missed the way things used to be. “It’s good to hear you too.”

“I know it’s been a while,” she said softly, “but I wanted to give you a chance to get settled. How are things going?”

“They’re going fine,” you said quietly. You paused. You didn’t want to say anything bad or worry anyone, but also it was your mom. “I don’t know. It’s different here. I don’t have anything to do.”

She just chuckled. “Cherish that. It’ll change soon and then you’ll miss this time.” You didn’t know what to say to that so you didn’t say anything. After a few moments of silence, she continued. “And how’s Ransom?”

You stifled a groan. You didn’t want to talk about him. Things had been… better since your panic attack. He came home at a decent hour regularly. You fucked most nights now. But he was still just this looming presence. You didn’t know what to do with him. “He’s fine,” you said with a shrug.

That was apparently the wrong answer, judging by the little hum she made. “I know it’s hard at the beginning. When I first married your father–” she cut herself off with a deep breath. “Remember, honey, keeping him happy is your one job now. It’ll get easier the longer you do it.”

A few tears finally broke free and fell down your cheeks. “I don’t– I don’t know him. I don’t know what makes him happy.”

“Then finding out will be a good use of your free time, won’t it?” You glanced at the book beside you, feeling shamed in spite of yourself. “I know it feels so hard, but men are shockingly easy. They just want to be taken care of. That’s all you have to do. Make him dinner. Keep his home warm. Give him heirs. Don’t argue. That’s all. You’re going to be such a good wife to him, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

You shrunk down into the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees, making yourself as small as possible. You hated this. Hated that she didn’t want more for you. That she’d never tried to give you more. But you were tired, too, of being upset with her for not doing the impossible. What else was she supposed to have done? What else could she give you when she didn’t have anything herself? “Ok,” you whispered. It was all you could manage.

“Joseph says hello, of course,” she said, and you wanted to laugh. He’d done no such thing. “He’s so proud that you’ve made such a good match. He’ll be happy to hear it’s going well.”

“Mmm,” was all you were able to say. You hated this. You couldn’t do it anymore. “It’s so good to hear from you, mom. But uh, I have to– I have to go.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Well, alright. I miss you so much, sweetheart. We’ll talk again soon. I love you.”

You could barely hold the tears back now. “I love you too,” you said, your voice thick. “Bye.” The moment you hung up the phone, the damn broke. You couldn’t stop it. You cried for your mom. You cried for yourself. You cried for the way everything had changed and there was no going back. You cried because this was a day when it felt like no one on earth was on your side. A shaking Lola forced her way into your lap and you held her until you were able to calm down.

Once you’d stopped crying, you looked around. You couldn’t sit still, your mother’s words ringing in your ears. Your eyes locked on the kitchen. That was something you could do. You glanced at the time. If Ransom came home at his new regular time, it would be tight, but you could do it if you made something simple. But not too simple. Something that showed effort. That you were trying.

You got up and looked in the fridge. All those tidy little glass containers full of meals his housekeeper, Carol, made. You’d never felt like they were taunting you before, but now. Now you wanted to smash them. You could do this. You could make him like you. Show him what you were worth. You could make yourself a life better than your mother’s, maybe. Get him on your side.

There weren’t a ton of raw ingredients, but after combing through the entire contents of the fridge and pantry, you found what you’d need for a decent spaghetti. Carol was probably planning it for later in the week. Well, now she wouldn’t have to. You’d do it yourself.

You put some music on and got to work. Losing yourself in the prep. But you’d lost yourself too much maybe, because you were still chopping when Ransom walked in the door.

Lola, of course, rushed to greet him. It still rankled. She didn’t realize that one wrong move would have him kicking her out. His words from that first dinner had never left your mind. But a few days ago, he’d started reaching down to pet her as she danced around him. You didn’t know what either of them were playing at.

He looked at you, now trying to hurry through the rest of your prep, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m making dinner,” you said, gesturing to all your work obviously. You looked at the time. You weren’t slow. He was early. Why the fuck was he early? He was ruining all your plans.

“Why?” he asked as he took off his coat, then shoes. “Carol’s put plenty of meals in the fridge.”

“Because I wanted to!” You said, your knife coming down on the onion under your hand too hard.

The knife hitting the cutting board caught his attention. He looked at what you were doing. “I don’t like onions.”

You threw down the knife more carelessly than you should have. It slid across the cutting board before coming to a stop at the edge of the counter. “Then why were they in the pantry?!”

“How should I know?!” he shouted back, matching your tone. But then he looked at you and stopped. “Have you been crying? What happened?”

You froze. Shit. You hadn’t even thought to check what you looked like. You swiped at your face and turned away. “It’s the onions. Obviously.”

“Your face– that looks like more than onions.” He now stood at the edge of the kitchen, only the island between you.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, then forced yourself to take a breath. “My mom called,” you conceded. “It’s fine.”

“Oh,” was all he said for a moment and then, “You and your parents are close then?”

You couldn’t explain why the question irritated you so much. Maybe it was the assumption of homesickness. Or referring to Joseph as your parent. Or just him being here earlier than he was supposed to be, asking you anything. You couldn’t keep the shortness out of your voice when you responded, “My mom. Sometimes.”

You looked around at your progress, the mess you’d made, the onions he didn’t want. So much for keeping him happy. What a stupid idea. You felt done. Over everything. You began cleaning up all the food, scooping it into the garbage.

“What are you doing?”

“I changed my mind! You don’t want any of this anyway. Have one of Carol’s fucking dinners.”

“The fuck is going on with you?!” he shouted as he watched you clean up the kitchen.

“I changed my mind,” you repeated, throwing the cutting board into the sink. “I’m not hungry. I’m going upstairs.” You stomped over to the staircase.

“You’re not going to eat anything?” he called after you.

“No! I’m fine!” You shouted as you took the first few stairs.

“Yeah, you sure seem fucking fine,” he grumbled as he headed to the fridge.

You stopped and glared at him. “Wake me if I’m asleep when you come up. I’m ovulating, so. Tonight’s important.”

He let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah,” he said, flatly. “I got your text.” That was news to you. He'd never responded to it. As you turned to continue up the stairs, you heard him add under his breath, “Although I’m not sure why you feel like you need to be awake for it.”

You stopped and turned around, coming back down a step. “What was that?!”

He turned to you, one of Carol’s glass containers in his hand, and sighed. “Nothing. I’ve had a long day.” You just stared at each other and then he added, “Aren’t you tired of it being such a chore?”

Something crumpled in you at that, but you didn’t want to stop and look at what it was. “Well,” you said. “The sooner I’m pregnant, the sooner it won’t be.” Then you turned and stomped the rest of the way upstairs.

When he woke you later that night, he was already ready to go. You didn’t even take off your pajamas, just slid your shorts down to your calves. He was right. It was a chore.

It was a few days later when he texted you in the middle of the day. You were hiding in the bedroom while Carol cleaned downstairs. She was still mad that you’d wasted the spaghetti ingredients. You were reading in bed with Lola when your phone buzzed beside you.

Big family thing at Harlan’s on Saturday. We’ll be expected.

For some reason, it was the ‘we’ that caught you. It was the first time you’d realized you were a package deal now. If Ransom was invited somewhere, you would accompany him. And vice versa if you were ever invited anywhere. You couldn’t imagine it, with how small your world had gotten.

The rest of his message caught up with you. His family. Linda had reached out multiple times since her awful visit. Every time you spoke to her, you got so small. You worried that prolonged exposure to her might cause you to completely disappear.

Aside from his parents, you’d barely interacted with the rest of his family at the wedding. It would be fine. You would be fine. You’d have to be. They were your family now too. You’d be seeing so much of them. For the rest of your life. You ignored how much your chest tightened at that thought.

Saturday came too soon.

Ransom paced around the bedroom while you both got ready. You’d never seen him like this before. He wasn’t dressed. He just kept walking in and out of his closet. And looking at you. You didn’t know if you were doing something wrong. He didn’t say anything, he just couldn’t keep still. The one time you’d asked if he was alright, he’d barked back at you that he was fine, so you hadn’t asked again.

Watching him pace around was making you even more anxious than you already were. So you focused all you could on getting yourself ready. You’d asked Ransom earlier if his family dressed for dinner and he’d just grunted in response. But it felt like a no, so you wore one of your favorite day dresses. It was your favorite color. You hoped it would give you confidence. You did your hair. You put diamond studs in your ears, with a matching tennis bracelet on your wrist. Reasonable heels on your feet. A spritz of perfume on your pulse points. It was the best you could do without more information.

You stood in the middle of the bedroom once you were done. Ransom was still undressed, still moving. “Uh,” you ventured, hesitantly, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. “Will we have enough time to get there?”

“Who gives a shit?” he growled, thundering back into his closet. A few moments later he came back out, wearing dress slacks and a cream cable-knit sweater. There were holes in it. You could see them clearly from the other side of the room.

“Ransom,” you said softly, oddly feeling like you were speaking to a spooked animal, “don’t you think that sweater’s a little worn?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he rasped. “Let’s go.” Then he was out of the room and halfway down the stairs, with you scrambling to keep up behind him.

The drive to Harlan’s country estate was mostly silent. You’d tried to turn on the radio at one point, but Ransom just turned it right back off. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his hands were bright red. You wondered if he was hurting himself. You didn’t know why he was so stressed. You were the one about to walk into the lion’s den, the one who had no idea what was waiting for you. It was his family. He’d be fine. You had no idea if you would be. You rested your hands in your lap, clutching them, and settled into the silence.

You knew that Harlan lived quite a ways out of town, but you still got to his home much too quickly. The large mansion loomed over you as Ransom parked his car amongst the others in the drive. He turned off the ignition and then just sat there, staring ahead. Just as you were about to call his name, he slapped the steering wheel harshly with one hand then growled “Let’s go!” to you and got out of the car. Once again, you scrambled after him, but this time, he slowed, slightly, to let you catch up. Once you had, he put a firm hand on the small of your back and ushered you up the path and into the house. You didn’t have time to react to that or try to figure out what on earth he was doing before you were greeted by a woman Ransom snidely called Franny. She responded with a very curt “Hugh” of her own then introduced herself to you as the housekeeper. She took your coats, and then Ransom’s hand was back on you, guiding you into a sitting room.

The entire family was already there, most with drinks in hand, and they all turned to watch you enter. You felt pinned by their gazes. “Well!” Ransom’s uncle Walt called out. “Look who finally decided to show. And just in time for the food, of course!”

Ransom stiffened slightly beside you then smirked. “Well, thank god we’re in time for your fifth drink, Walt. Who’d want to miss that?”

Walt scowled as he got up from his seat, then lumbered across the room, knocking his shoulder into Ransom’s as he passed and jostling you in the process. You started to sway a little, and Ransom’s hand immediately came to your hip to try to steady you. Your gaze flitted down to it, but just as quickly it was gone.

Everyone else began to get up and make their way out of the room. Meg, at least, gave you a small smile and wave, but otherwise, you were mostly ignored. That was, at least, until there were only three people left, Ransom’s parents and Harlan.

Harlan immediately hugged you. “It’s wonderful to see you, my dear. You look so lovely.” He took a step back to look at you both. “I trust you’re taking good care of each other. This is one of the most important times in your marriage. I hope you’re cherishing it.”

“Sure Grandad,” Ransom snarked, “we’re loving being married to a complete stranger.”

“Ah, now, you’ll only remain strangers if you let that happen.”

You saw Ransom about to open his mouth to say something else, so you jumped in with a quiet, “Thank you, Harlan, we really appreciate that.”

Harlan smiled at you, big and genuine, and then clapped Ransom on the shoulder. “See, my boy,” he said. “I knew she was exactly what you needed!”

Ransom’s jaw ticked but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t know how to respond either. Harlan’s kindness had a way of making you feel invisible.

Linda stepped up to you all then. “Darling,” she said, her tone dripping friendliness in a way that made you brace for impact. “I see not even your positive influence can make my son be on time. How disappointing.” She added a little chuckle onto the end, but you took it as the reprimand it was meant to be. You pasted on your most benign smile, but as always, she made you feel about a foot tall. You had no idea how anyone thought you were supposed to make this man do anything. Like he cared about what you thought or wanted. Like you had any power at all.

“Is that why you married me off, mother?” Ransom asked, matching her friendly tone, but when you looked up at him, his eyes were hard. “So there’d be someone to handle me?”

“Well,” she said, a placid smile on her face to match your own, “someone has to. Lord knows you haven’t listened to me in years.”

“And yet,” Ransom said, his tone dropping all friendliness, “you still got me here, didn’t you?”

The look on his face startled you. You’d never seen him this angry. Without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. At your touch, his eyes snapped to yours. You weren’t sure exactly what he found there, you felt lost enough that you couldn’t imagine your expression was much help, but after staring at you for what felt like an age, he gave you the smallest nod and relaxed his posture.

“We don’t want dinner to get cold,” Harlan called from the doorway.

Linda straightened, finally ending the standoff with her son. “Yes, of course,” she said. Then she looked at you, really looked, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking in all of you and everything you were wearing. She quirked her eyebrow at you and let out a distinctly judgemental little hum. Then that friendly smile was back and she turned away from you. “Oh, Dad, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” she said as they both left the room.

You stared after her. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong. You’d looked at everyone when you’d arrived and confirmed that you weren’t under or overdressed. She herself was wearing a simple but smart pantsuit. Your clothes were nice, clean, and pressed. You were put together. What could her problem possibly be? You tried to breathe but you could still feel her looking at you and your chest was so tight.

You were brought back to the present by Richard wrapping you in a hug. His lips brushed your cheek as he said, “So nice to see you again, honey.” Then one of his hands on your back traveled lower until it grazed the top of your ass. You couldn’t help the way you jumped.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Dad?” Ransom shouted next to you. “I’m standing right here!”

Richard pulled away and you took a deep breath at being free of him. What the hell had just happened?

“What?” Richard rounded on his son. “I can’t greet my daughter-in-law? You’re so sensitive, Ransom. A little attention is flattering, isn’t it, honey?”

They were both staring at you. You knew you needed to say something but all you could do in your shock was gape at them.

Ransom wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you close to him. “You’re a fucking creep,” he growled.

Richard just scowled and made his way to the hall. “Disrepectful little shit,” he muttered as he left the room.

It wasn’t until his father was completely gone that Ransom dropped his arm from around you. He looked you right in the eye, his face so serious, as he asked, “Are you ok?” And there was something in his tone, fear maybe, that startled you just as much as Richard’s hand.

“I’m fine,” you nodded, your voice shaking only the slightest bit. When he still didn’t release you from his gaze, you brushed your fingers over his arm. “I’m alright.”

Finally, he nodded but didn’t really relax. “He’s–” he began, but cut himself off. “Just, watch out for him.”

“Ok,” you said, trying to sound strong. Reassuring. Ransom still just stood there. “Are– are you alright?”

That seemed to bring him out of wherever he’d been. “What?” he asked, somewhat sharply. “Yeah, of course. Come on,” he said, turning to the doorway. “Let’s get this shitshow over with.”

Everyone else was already seated at the large dining room table when you came in. Ransom guided you over to the two empty chairs in the middle of one side and pulled yours out for you before seating himself. The catering staff moved around the table setting down plates and pouring wine for everyone. But when the server got to you, they moved past you without pouring anything. In case you were pregnant. Of course. That was fine. You just hoped no one else noticed.

“I’m sorry,” Ransom said from beside you and your stomach dropped. “Is there a reason my wife isn’t being served wine tonight?”

“Ransom,” you whispered, still hoping everyone would just ignore it, but it was too late.

From the other side of the table, Walt piped up liked he’d just been waiting for an opportunity. “Maybe the staff got confused and didn’t realize she’s old enough to drink.” His eyes sparkled and he grinned, proud of himself, as it took every muscle in your body not to shrink down in your seat.

“Great catch, Walt! You’re right. She is still much younger than me. Like I said before, and I’m sure I’ll have to say again, neither of us chose this. I would’ve thought that’d be a concept you’re familiar with, seeing as how you practically begged Harlan not to make you marry Donna.”

“Ransom!” you admonished quietly. Your eyes cut to the willowy blonde sitting next to Walt, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You had no doubt that he deserved this, but you had no idea if she did.

Ransom’s eyes cut to you. “You’re right,” he said, before looking back at his aunt and uncle. “I should be nicer to Donna. I’m sure being married to Walt is punishment enough.”

“You little shit!” Walt responded. “I’ll have you know my wife is very happy. Which I’m sure is more than you can say for yours! What’s it been, a month? Two? And she already looks completely miserable.”

You felt all eyes turn to you again and you weren’t sure you’d ever felt more self-conscious in your life. Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t say anything, so you picked up your fork and took a bite of the fish you’d just been served. It didn’t taste like anything.

From your left, Joanie spoke up. “Hey, those first few months of marriage are hard. But so rewarding. I know when Neal and I were first married–”

“Yes, Joanie,” Linda cut in, dryly. “My brother was a saint and we all miss him very much.” She turned back to her son. “There’s no need to get upset, Ransom. We just didn’t want to accidentally serve a pregnant woman alcohol. Better safe than sorry.” She picked up her own fork to begin eating. “Speaking of, if the two of you have an announcement to make, now’d be the perfect time.”

You couldn’t stop your grimace. Ransom stiffened next to you, then answered, “No. No announcement.”

“It’ll come,” Harlan finally joined in from his place at the head of the table. “There’s still plenty of time.”

From the other end of the table, a teenage boy you’d never even met before said, “Maybe not. Maybe she’s barren.” And you felt all the wind go out of you.

“Oh fuck off, you little incel shit!” Ransom shouted.

“She isn’t barren, Jacob,” Linda said, calmly. “We have all her medical records to confirm she’s perfectly fertile.”

You could’ve sworn you blacked out at the moment. You’d known, on some level, that if there was a clause in the contract, it’d come with some sort of confirmation that, at least on your side, it was even possible. But to know that they had your medical records and now were discussing them like you weren’t even here, like you just didn’t matter… You hoped the earth might open up and swallow you whole.

You felt a gentle hand land on your knee but it didn’t really register. Nothing did. You didn’t know where the conversation went from there. You couldn’t hear anything above the ringing in your ears. It was all you could do to keep breathing. But you knew they all kept sniping at each other. And you felt the anger radiating off of Ransom the entire time.

The clinking of plates and scraping of chairs finally got you out of your stupor as the family got out of their chairs and staff started clearing the dishes. You looked over at Ransom, for help or support maybe, you didn’t really know. But he also looked like he’d gone somewhere else. He could barely meet your gaze.

You were still numb as people made their way back to the original sitting room. You just needed to make it through the rest of the evening. You could do that. Just as you had gotten to the other room, Harlan stopped Ransom with a hand on his shoulder. “I’d like a word in private with you, my boy.”

Ransom looked at you for a moment, then sighed and said softly, “I’ll be right back,” before following his grandfather deeper into the house.

And then you were alone. You were at a loss as to what to do with yourself, so you went back into the sitting room and settled on a vacant couch. Not everyone had migrated there. There were only a few people in the room now. Jacob sat in the corner, hunched over his phone, but every once in a while he would look up, catch your eye, and smirk at you. It had you sliding further back in your seat. His mother was no help. Donna was slumped over in an armchair, still cradling half a glass of wine. Meg had already shrugged on her coat, giving a hurried wave as she moved through the room. And Richard–

Richard sat down next to you. You slid down the couch as subtly as you could. “You know,” he said, “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you at the wedding.”

Alarm bells went off through your whole body. You saw Ransom’s face again, from earlier. How angry, yes, but more than that ashamed and unsurprised. How he’d looked at you. How he’d asked if you were ok. How it’d felt urgent. “It was a busy day,” you gritted out, trying to think of any way to get yourself out of this room.

“Ransom is a very lucky man,” he said, inching closer, his arm draped over the back of the couch, “to have such a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled uncomfortably. “That’s very sweet.” You looked around helplessly. As he opened his mouth to say something else, you stood up. “I’m going to go get myself some water. Do you need anything?” you asked, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “No? Ok, I’ll be right back.” And then you fled.

You hurried down the hall toward the kitchen but slowed when you heard voices. You picked out Joanie first, then Linda. You slowed to a stop right outside the kitchen door, trying to weigh just how much you wanted that water. Was it worth facing them? Were they any better than Richard?

“Okay,” Joanie said, “but what do you really think about her?” Your stomach dropped. You tried to reassure yourself that they could be talking about anything, anyone. You pressed closer to the door as quietly as you could.

“I think,” Linda said, then paused while you heard the clink of glassware, “that she will serve her purpose just fine.”

Joanie laughed. “I just have a hard time picturing Ransom with such a mouse.” You closed your eyes. You should go right now. Nothing they had to say would be of any help to you. But, despite your best interests, you were rooted to the spot.

“She definitely wasn’t chosen for her personality, but Ransom understands how good this will be for the whole family. How important it is”

“Oh, of course,” Joanie simpered, and you just hated both of these women so much at that moment, maybe more than you’d ever hated anyone. “I just feel so bad for him. He must be so bored.”

“Listen, I told him that he just needs to get her pregnant, and then he can do whatever he needs to do. Once he has an heir. As long as he’s discreet, of course.”

Joanie cackled. “You didn’t! Oh, you’re so bad!”

“He might already be behind on that one, anyway,” Linda said, and you could practically hear her smirk. But you didn’t know what she could possibly be talking about. She didn’t know you and there was no one– unless. Oh god.

“Well.” Linda continued. “You know, she and her step-brother are very close, if you know what I mean.”

“Really?” Joanie asked, fucking eagerly.

“Mhmm,” Linda hummed. “Did you not see them at the wedding? They were practically hanging all over each other. He had to be kicked out of her dressing room.”

“No! Does Ransom know?”

“Well, I haven’t told him yet. You know how he gets. I’m waiting for the right time.”

“You know what they call that on the internet, don’t you?”

Linda sighed. “You know that I don’t, Joanie.”

“Stepcest!” Joanie said gleefully.

And that was it. That was all you could do. This fucking family. How– Why? You’d never done anything. You hadn’t even chosen to be here! And they still took so much joy in cutting you down. And if Linda managed to get to Ransom and tell him… Who knows what he’d do?

You moved as quietly as you could back down the hall, swiping at the tears beginning to gather in your eyes, hoping not to call any attention to yourself, when shouts suddenly erupted from the other side of the house. As soon as you recognized one of the raised voices as Ransom’s, you began to hurry in that direction.

You hadn’t made it very far before he came barreling out in your direction. “Get your coat,” he growled. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t argue, more than ready to get out of there yourself. You followed him to the closet, and then once you both had your coats, out the door. The crisp night air was bracing after feeling suffocated in that house for hours. Neither of you said anything as you got into Ransom’s car.

It wasn’t until you were fully off Harlan’s property that you felt brave enough to ask, “Is everything alright?”

He glanced at you before returning his eyes to the road and letting out a humorless chuckle. “Sure,” he said.

“What– What did he want to talk to you about?”

“Just his same old bullshit,” he scoffed.

“I–” you had no idea what to say. “Is it always like that?” You felt foolish as soon as you asked. Of course, it was. You could tell.

“Oh, no,” he said, and his tone was so cold, so detached, that you couldn’t help but stare. This felt like a brand new Ransom. “Sometimes it’s really bad.”

You didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea what to do with this sudden urge to comfort him, this man who had so much power over you, this man you couldn’t even say you liked most days. Especially after what you’d just been through. So you kept your hands in your lap and stared out the window.

After a few minutes of silence, he surprised you by being the one to break it. “So. I bet your family looks like the fucking Waltons compared to that.”

You thought of dinner with your own family. Joseph crowing loudly about his successes. Your mother cowering the moment any small thing went wrong. Steve getting into screaming matches with his father. You feeling invisible, on a good day. “No,” you said, hollowly. “Not really.” He turned his head sharply to look at you and you held his gaze for just a moment before he had to look back at the road. There was one large difference though. You’d always had Steve. As far as you could tell, Ransom didn’t have anyone.

That thought led you back to what you’d heard right before you’d left and your anxiety returned. “Steve and I–” you blurted out. “He’s my brother.”

Ransom’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah, I am aware of that.”

You shook your head. “No, I just– I know we aren’t related biologically, but– Nothing’s ever happened between us. Not ever. He’s my brother.”

“What the fuck?!” he called out as he made a left turn more sharply than necessary. “Why would you–” he cut himself off. “Did someone say something to you?”

You ignored his question. “I just–” you said, “I just wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Neither of you said anything else for the rest of the drive.

When you got back to his house, Ransom went straight upstairs while you let Lola out one last time before bed. When you joined him in the bedroom once that was done, he was already in bed. “Listen,” he said softly, “I know you’re probably even more anxious about this whole thing after– I just, I’m really fucking tired. Is it ok if we don’t– If we just go to bed?”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. You were just as tired and didn’t think you could deal with all that after everything else that had happened that day. You quickly went through your nighttime routine in the bathroom. When you came back out once you’d finished, you found Ransom still awake, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Lola was curled up at his side and he absently scratched her belly. You climbed into bed and turned the lamp off, turning onto your side. You felt him move behind you, scooting closer, not enough that you were touching at all, but you could feel his body heat. It was oddly soothing. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come fast, ready for this day to be over.

Tag list is open

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#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x you #knives out #fanfiction #fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #reader insert #arranged marriage au #heavy angst #more than this #kris wrote something

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ponderingmoonlight · 14 hours

Text

Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.

Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie

„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”

“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”

“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”

Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.

“I bet she slept her way up.”

Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?

“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”

“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”

“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.

They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?

“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.

“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.

“Most of them are trash. That one though…”

Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.

“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”

“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.

“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.

A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.

“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”

“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.

Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.

“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”

You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.

“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”

“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.

Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.

“What the hell is going on over there?”

You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.

Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.

“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.

You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.

“You have no i-“

An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?

“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”

When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.

“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”

Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.

And his dreadful orbs are set on you.

You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.

But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.

“So, this was you?”, he questions.

There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.

Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.

“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.

It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.

No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.

“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”

Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?

“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”

He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-

“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.

You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?

“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“

“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”

“What?”, you blurt out.

And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…

You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.

“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.

“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.

Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.

“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”

The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.

-one week later-

“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.

Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.

“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.

It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.

“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.

“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”

“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.

“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”

“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”

“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”

Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…

Right?

He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen

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simpxxstan · 13 hours

Text

it isn't you

pairing: elementary school teacher!boo seungkwan x f.reader

genre: fluff and angst.

summary: you're ready to begin a completely new life in seoul, away from your ex-husband and your baggage of regrets. but fate has different plans for you when you meet seungkwan again, and this time, you don't want to let go.

word count: 8.3k words

rating: pg 13

warnings: reader is a single mother. mentions of divorce, cold parents, poor parent-child relationship, anxiety and worries. mention of accidental pregnancy.

a/n: i CRAVE seungkwan w babies content and i wrote this completely to indulge my own craving. hope you enjoy! as always, would love to hear your thoughts!! reblogs and comments are so much appreciated <3

this is part of the boys over flowers series featuring booseoksoon + chan! this is the second instalment in that series.

“Eomma, there’s no need to be so scared!” Dahyun reminds you, putting her little hands on your arms as she hugs you. “Yes, yes,” you pause your mumbling and hug her back. It’s hard to believe that she turned four last week because she still feels so tiny in your arms. She’s definitely more calm than you as you both stand in front of the school you’ve come to enrol her at.

“It’s just… I’m just checking that you have everything with you. Okay. Eomma will come at three pm, and get you started in the creche, okay? Please listen to your teachers. If you want, talk to your classmates, hmm? I won’t force yo-” “Eomma! Shh! I’ve been to a school before, you know? I know how schools work.” She makes a serious face, and you laugh. “Alright, darling. When Eomma comes, let me know how your first day was. I love you Dahyun-ah, have fun, hmm?” And you press kisses to the side of her head before she plants a wet smooch on your cheek and runs off. “Bye Eomma!”

And she runs without looking back, and you wonder how she’s so relaxed and you’re so tense about her first day.

Probably because you had been a wreck throughout your school days. Well, she’s turned out to be quite not like you. Good for her. Easy for you. You remember your mother being so stressed because her daughter cried after every first day in each new class year at school, didn’t make a single friend till she turned seven, and barely scraped through most of her classes. Yeah, easy for you.

It’s been two months since you’ve shifted from Gwangju to Seoul, and to be honest, you’ve felt like it’s your first day in school again for each day of the last two months. Finding a place for yourself and your daughter, settling down in your new job, and now, getting your daughter’s life started after you uprooted it in the middle of the school year when you moved out of Gwangju. It’s nice that Dahyun’s barely made a mess about it all- she’s honestly too understanding as a child, and you don’t deserve her- but it’s still worrying for you to see your daughter go through all this at such a tender age and think of what impact it may have on her later. Your parents haven’t been the least bit supportive, so all you have is Dahyunie and all she has is you.

When you’re getting up on the bus, once you see Dahyun safely enter the school campus, you feel your phone buzz. It’s your boss calling to find out where you are. You’ve already informed work that you’re going to be about half an hour late so it’s an entirely unnecessary call, but you know he’s a little nosy, although not necessarily with bad intentions. In less than twenty minutes, you’ve reached office and got buried nose-deep into work, and soon, it’s three pm already.

When you arrive at Sebong Elementary School, you see a crowd of parents and their tiny tots gathered around what you think is the hall where the creche is going to be organised. You’re frantically looking for Dahyun in the crowd, when something comes and jumps at your knees. “Eomma!” A brightly-smiling Dahyun hugs your legs and you quickly bend down to pick her up. “Hi, hi, sorry I’m late, I got-” “It’s okay, Eomma.” She kisses you on the cheek before wrapping herself like a koala on your side. “How was your first day, baby?” “Good. Not 5 stars because there was so much crying-” “Oh dear, why?” “Because some of the other kids were missing home! I didn’t cry, because I was having fun talking to my teachers and making friends and colouring into my alphabet book and-” “Oh, darling you made friends? Such a brave baby,” you kiss her, as you both walk towards the hall and Dahyun continues her loud rambling all about her school day. And soon, along with the other twenty-odd parents and their children, you finally make it into the hall. There are two teachers standing up on one side, greeting the children. You can see one of them is a female, wearing a bright green banner pasted to her shirt with her name printed on it. The other teacher is a male, and he has his back towards you. You slowly make your way to the female teacher, who apparently Dahyun recognises from one of her classes. Once she’s greeted you two and assigned you a seat, you sit there quietly. Dahyun finds a few familiar faces in the crowds and you make small talk with their parents, while the others settle down.

“Hello everyone! Welcome to Sebong Creche! We’re so happy to have you all here with us.” The female teacher greets the crowd and everyone smiles and claps softly, as do you. Suddenly your phone is buzzing. It’s your boss again. Seems that the message that you’re taking the half day off hasn’t reached him, so you’re trying to type him a message when a voice surprises you.

No, it, in fact, makes your head spin and your heart stop.

“My name is Boo Seungkwan and this is Choi Ria! We’ll be taking care of the creche for the next six months! Pleased to meet you all.”

Fuck. Your phone slips and drops from your hand and Dahyun yelps in your lap in surprise. The phone makes a dreadfully loud sound, and in the silence of the room, everyone looks at you. You gulp and pick up your phone, trying to avoid drawing more attention, but you can’t help but notice one pair of eyes fixated on you, the single person you’d tried to avoid.

Seungkwan.

And god, he looks just the same as he did five years ago when you’d seen him last before leaving for Gwangju. His hair is now brown and his blue sweater brings out the fresh glow of his skin, and fuck you if every regret of your life isn’t flooding into your mind at this very second. The female teacher speaks up, thankfully taking the attention from you, but not Seungkwan. His eyes still linger on yours, a confused expression in his eyes, before looking away and breaking eye contact.

Oh god. Just when everything was going to go right.

Once the initial briefings are over, parents are offered the chance to leave and pick their children back again at the designated time, or sit through this first session as the kids get used to the creche atmosphere. Dahyun is right- too many kids are crying. And you would too, if you had been here. But Dahyun is lively, she’s confidently eating her banana and singing to herself as the teachers give everyone their snacks.

But to be fair, your eyes are only on Seungkwan. He’s moving around with a lithe familiarity, and children cling to him with every minor inconvenience. It’s in the way he’s talking to them, the way he’s approaching them, and in the way he’s handling them with so much care, that you already feel safe about leaving Dahyun here.

It’s not a new sensation, though. Feeling safe around him.

So when everyone leaves and Dahyun has finally packed her bag and run to the spot you’ve been sitting all the while, you pick her up and turn around to find Seungkwan standing near you. Up close, even with the tiredness setting into his features, you notice how manly and mature he looks- so different from the fresh-faced college boy you’d left behind in Seoul so many years ago.

“Hello Ms. Y/L/N. Thank you for trusting your… daughter with us.”

Oh. Formals. So it’s going to be like that, is it. Dahyun giggles when Seungkwan extends a hand to pat her hair, his hand awfully close to your own hand, so he quickly takes his hand away. “Seungkwanie Ssaem likes tangerines, he said! I like banana!” Dahyun giggles again, and you finally let out a breath and say, “I’m relieved to know that I’m leaving her in capable hands.” Because, truly, who would take care of Dahyun like Seungkwan would? Who would care for Dahyunie with hands so gentle, and a smile so kind, and eyes so soft like Seungkwan would? Seungkwan would sense, would know by instinct, what she would want. After all…

And then Seungkwan gives you a tight smile, much less kind than the one he gives to Dahyun, and waves you goodbye. You look away, unable to stare any longer, and make your way home with your little angel in your arms.

School works out excellently for Dahyun-ah. It turns out Seugnkwan is not always there. There are two teachers working out alternately. So you can only catch Seungkwan again two days later, when you arrive a tad bit late and find Dahyun sitting on Seungkwan’s lap and the both of them playing with a playdough.

“I didn’t know you teach in this school, Seungkwan.” You say when he comes to hand your child to you. He doesn’t meet your eyes, still distracted with scratching off the playdough from Dahyun’s fingers. “I wouldn’t have come here if I’d known,” you add softly and he looks up. It’s true, but it’s not something you necessarily regret.

“Does it matter?”

You keep the eye contact, and whisper, “It does.” Seungkwan turns away, clearly not intent on melting ice so quickly. “Seungkwan-ah, it’s not what you think it is!”

He turns back ever so slightly. “Has it ever been what I’ve thought it is?”

Right then, Dahyun pokes your shoulder and yawns, indicating how sleepy she is. It’s time to go home.

“Eomma!” Dahyun asks you as soon as you reach the creche. Today you’re on time, so it’s still crowded with other kids and their parents who’ve come to pick them up. You bend down and kiss Dahyun on her cheek. “Aww my baby.” She kisses you back, “Eomma I had a question!” You nod, fixing her shoes on her feet. “Why does my name start with Y/L/N and not Lee like Appa’s? All my friends at the creche have their names starting with their Appa’s family name.” Oh god. She’s about to find- she knows, she knows, she’s- she’s angry at you for hiding it-

“Dahyunie, I’m sorry I-”

“Huh? Why’re you saying sorry, Eomma?” She looks genuinely confused and you reconsider for a second. Was it an innocent question or-”

“You look like you’re about to cry.”

In your mess, you haven’t even noticed when the crowds have started to clear up and Seungkwan has crouched down next to you, holding a small cup of water. You stare at him, his big, beautiful, brown eyes, and you take the cup slowly.

Dahyun smiles at her teacher, and you remember how Seungkwan was so intent on not conversing with you the last time you tried to talk to him. So you’ve made up your mind. If he wants to keep his distance, you will too. He wasn’t in the plan, anyway. But then Seungkwan asks, “I want to know too. Why does she not have her father’s family name?” You realise then, just how close he is to you. Your conversation is happening in it’s own bubble, and the rest of the world won’t even be able to hear anything. The pink from Dahyun’s dress reflects on Seungkwan’s face, giving it a more bubblegum glow than usual. He keeps his eyes on yours, and you feel obligated to answer.

“That’s because… Appa isn’t family anymore. Ever since I left Gwangju.”

That’s the most sugar-coated way you can explain it to Dahyun, who seems to get it nevertheless. She nods and explains to Seungkwan- “Eomma and Appa don’t talk to each other anymore. That’s why we’re here in Seoul. It’s already been three months.” You know she’s starting to forget her father’s voice, she told you once in the warm moments before sleep. You’d cried in the bathroom that night, feeling terrible and only calming down once you reminded yourself that it was your only choice.

Seungkwan keeps looking at you. There’s something in his eyes, as his eyes go from your eyes, to your lips and then fall to your hand where he notices the absence of a wedding ring. Maybe it is curiosity, you wonder. But he also doesn’t ask anything else in front of Dahyun, and you’re thankful.

“Your daughter is lovely.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from correcting him. “She is. Just turned four.” His eyes become curious again, but then he blinks and looks at Dahyun. “I was wondering if you’d enrolled her into any sports classes? I think she’d enjoy them, because she’s an active child.”

You nod, “I did consider. I didn’t know which classes were good in Seoul so I’d thought I’d wait another year before enrolling her to ensure she settles down well…”

“Oh. That’s your call, I guess. But Dahyun seems to be settling down well enough. If you want… distractions, say… then a sport activity would be great.”

“You’re right. I’ll check it out for sure. If you had any suggestions…”

“There’s a badminton coaching centre nearby. Perhaps you could check them out.”

“Thank you. I will. Thank you so much.” Seungkwan nods once at you, eyes lingering, before he waves sweetly at Dahyun and takes his leave.

That night, your subconscious plays tricks on you. It floods your dreams with memories, leaving you sweaty and squirmy at night, even as the air conditioner blasts cool air into the room. Memories you thought you’d forgotten. Memories of a certain boy running laps in the college volleyball field during practice and you sitting in the corner of the ground, finishing your homework. Memories of that boy running to you during the ten minute break, sipping an energy drink from his sipper and kissing you in the spot of shade you’ve been sitting in, his mouth tasting like the orange flavour of the drink. Memories of you giggling, because his sweat is rubbing on your arms and he’s so gross, but you still can’t stop yourself from hugging him close for the rest of the short break. Memories of him promising to convince Coach to let him go fast because he wants to walk you home because it’s so unsafe to walk alone in the evening. Memories of Seungkwan giving you a last peck on your lips before jogging back to the grounds, both his and your cheeks smudged with sunshine and affection, eyes warm with the power of love, and hearts pure without any worry of life.

“Hello?” Your voice is desperate as you wait for the person on the other side of the line to answer. This is the first time you’re calling the creche, as your boss had suddenly decided you need to finish a task before leaving, even if it’s raining cats and dogs outside, even if you have a daughter who’s waiting for you at a creche, even if it’ll be totally fine to finish the task at home and submit it later. Consequently, you got out of work late and the bus is stuck in a road full of traffic due to the terrible weather and you’re already half an hour late to Dahyun’s creche’s closing time.

“Yes, this is Sebong Creche. I’m speaking to?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, this is Dahyun’s mom-”

“Y/N?” It’s Seungkwan. He must be able to hear the way your voice is cracking with panic. It’s odd to introduce yourself as Dahyun’s mom to Seungkwan but that’s the way it is now.

“I’m so sorry, I really am-”

“Calm down, please. Tell me what’s happening.”

“I… I got stuck at work… and I’m running late. I’m sorry for all this inconvenience-”

“Y/N, shh. Stop apologising and talk to me. Where are you now?”

“Umm, I’m still at my office. Please leave her near a guard or someone, Seungkwan, and I can pick her up in a short while! I’m trying to get out of her as soon as-”

“I can take her to your home.”

“Oh but-”

“Dahyun’s told me that you live in the neighbourhood right next to the school. I can walk her till there. She has a spare key, yes? She can get in.”

“But it’s raining!”

“And we have raincoats.”

“I don’t want to impose on you, honestly. You could just leave her-”

“And let her be alone? Y/N, you’re out of your mind.”

“But I don’t want to trouble you, Seungkwan-ah.”

“Do you not trust me?” You pause. You do trust him. There is nobody else you would trust more with your daughter. Fuck it.

“I do trust you.”

“Then finish your work and come home safely. Dahyunie and I will head to your home.”

It’s about two hours later that you are able to reach home, only to find Seungkwan and Dahyun both giggling away at something he’s showing to her on his phone. They’re sitting at the island in the kitchen, and you notice the bottle of milkshake that had been stored in the fridge for Dahyun is now empty next to her. When you enter, they notice you and Dahyun immediately squeals out in joy. She gets off the high chair she was sitting in and comes running to you and you immediately pick her up in your arms. Something unfamiliar and beautiful blooms in your mind, but it’s immediately clouded down by a sadness which you don’t understand.

When Dahyun falls asleep after you feed her dinner which you whip up quickly, Seungkwan’s still sitting in your kitchen, eating the rice and chicken you’ve made.

“You still cook well, Y/N.”

You’re sitting across from him, and you pick up another piece of chicken and put it on his plate. “I’m glad you still like it.”

Oh god. He’s too close for confort. He’s right here, in your house, eating dinner you’ve made, after looking after your child for two whole hours while you were stuck at work.

Is this what life would’ve turned out to be had you not left him four years back?

It seems that he’s thinking the same thing too, because he asks you, “Did you get the job you were studying for?”

“Yeah. I did. I am an actuary now.”

He smiles, digging into his food again, scrunching up his face as he chews it all down.

“And you? I didn’t think you’d ever planned to become a teacher.”

“I didn’t. Someone told me something about volleyball being an unstable career. And I thought maybe I should switch.”

You sigh. He says it so normally, even when simply hearing it breaks your heart. You stop yourself from crying, because you know it’ll just be more pathetic. You won’t be able to explain to him why you’re crying. You won’t be able to explain why your heart aches everytime you see them together. You’ve spent many a night awake, wondering what would happen if your secret gets out. It’s so cruel that fate has landed you back into the proximity of the one man you had never imagined you would see again. And sometimes you hope a silver lining may emerge from this all, but it’s a faint hope. A daydream you don’t think you can afford to dream at this juncture of life.

“I did get her into badminton like you said. She’s a natural, the teacher said.” As expected. Seungkwan smiles proudly, and you nearly tear up. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you. “I hope you don’t stop her from playing even when she grows up.” He says quietly, picking up his plate and walking towards the sink. You shrink further into your seat.

“You know it wasn’t me.”

“No, but you might have the same views as your mother.”

“You should know I don’t. There’s a reason why Sehun Oppa and I are divorced now.”

He puts the plate in the sink and turns around to look at you. “I’m sorry to hear that.” You walk towards him and stand next to him as you start the tap to wash the dishes. “I’ll do that,” he offers, but you swat his hand away. “It’s my house. You’re my guest.” “It’s a quaint house. Very you.” “Is it? I didn’t have enough time to decorate it.” “I think it’s enough- sparse but not too empty. There is room for more, better now that she’s out of her clumsy phase.” “Hmm, what would you add?” “I don’t know, let me see.” He leans against the kitchen counter, the dim lights casting a beautiful shadow under his eyelashes which make his high cheekbones look so delicate. “I’d add a standing lamp in that corner, next to the couch. And perhaps a rug in front of the couch. Better for Dahyun than sitting on the cold wood floor. And I’d- Oh sorry. I’m saying too much.” “No, really. Your ideas are helpful. I haven’t thought much about all this but when you say it, I can picture it.” You look up and smile at him, his head tilted down as he looks at you intensely. “And perhaps a photo frame on the wall between the kitchen and the living space. Those new trendy collage ones. And, also a…”

Oh god. He’s making it so hard for you to not lean in and press a kiss to his cheek right now. He’s making it so hard for you to tell him everything- from the beginning, the entire truth.

“Do you want dessert? I have chocolate ice cream.” You know he can’t turn down ice cream. So you just laugh when you see his hesitant smile turn into a shy smile, and you ask him to sit at the couch. When you take out two scoops for each of you and take it to the couch, he shifts to the opposite end of the couch to make room for you.

“I don’t know if it’s my place to ask you, but have you told Dahyun about the… divorce?”

You sigh, “No. I haven’t. I’m just hoping that she’ll eventually forget about him quickly… she is young, after all.”

“Won’t he want to meet her?”

“No, we’ve completely cut ties. It was the only option- I had to move on totally. And he didn’t want to keep any link either.”

His eyebrows furrow, and you can see the questions in his eyes. You don’t want to say anything because you don’t want to appear like a damsel in distress, but you also don’t want to worry him.

“He wasn’t abusive or anything. We just realised that it was a marriage in futility. Divorce was a relief to both of us.”

Surprisingly, it doesn’t reduce the questions in his eyes. But he doesn’t ask anything, and you don’t elaborate. You’ve overshared enough.

“I just want to thank you again, Seungkwan-ah. For taking care of Dahyun and bringing her to my place. You know as a mother I am incredibly grateful.”

“Just because we’re exes doesn’t mean I won’t take care of your daughter, Y/N-ah,” he chuckles bitterly. “She’s like my own, and I would do it for anyone else. It is my job, and you know it is my nature.”

You do. It feels like whiplash to hear that he would indeed do the exact same thing for anyone else too, it feels like a gash from a knife slashed across your chest. You choke, but you muffle it as a laugh. “I know it is your nature. But I still want to thank you, nonetheless.”

He smiles. “Thanks for the ice cream. I’ll not be a bother to you anymore now.”

“You could never be a bother, Kwan-ah.” He doesn’t say anything and simply takes your leave. It’s a night that feels bittersweet to you. While it’s a nice feeling to be basked in Seungkwan’s warmth again, it feels cruel that you’ll never truly enjoy his affection, or even his friendship.

The ice does break after that day. Seungkwan gives you smiles when you go to pick up Dahyun, and that initial tenseness is definitely gone. But you don’t push it too much. You don’t want to push the status quo because you’re afraid it’ll all be gone again. You’re afraid you won’t be able to protect yourself and your happiness once again because of your own mistakes. You’ve done it once before, and it’s not ended pretty. You can’t afford to repeat errors.

“You must cut off ties with him right away, Y/N. Or else you’ll never see me or your father again.” Your mother’s voice booms through the room, muffling the sounds of your tears as you beg at her feet. Your father stands on the other side, looking outside the window, in that unfeeling, emotionless attitude you have always seen him wear.

“But why, Eomma! What harm has Seungkwan done to you or me or anyone at all?”

“That boy is a gold-digger! He’s after your money. He knows very well he’ll get nowhere with volleyball. A sport should remain a hobby, but I doubt a middle class doofus like him would ever have the brains to even make a decent livi-”

“Oh you’re so wrong, Eomma! How can you say such things about him when you don’t even know him?”

“That’s enough. I know enough, Y/N. And I know he is not the man you ought to be spending your life with. He will not make you happy.” Your mother stands up from her seat and walks away, carelessly pushing you aside on her way. She would trample you down and walk over you like an ant even if you’d laid down at her feet.

Honestly, what had you ever expected from your parents when you’d told them on the day of your graduation that you had a boyfriend? You had tried to explain how wonderful Seungkwan was, but they had turned a deaf ear and insisted you cut off all relations with him. With college over, you could do nothing to stop their plans- they took away your old phone, gave you a new contact number with which you could neither contact Seungkwan nor your friends, and didn’t allow you to leave the house. It was terrible- a true prison. So when your mother had offered you one chance to leave this prison- by marrying Sehun, you’d taken it. You’d taken it because you had known it would be drastically better than living cooped up in this mess forever- your heart aching, your mind helpless and your body tired.

Even after moving to Gwangju and starting a new life with Sehun didn’t take away the emptiness you felt in your soul. But you, like an utter coward, had resigned to this fate and accepted married life with Sehun with open arms, ready to forget about your cherished past, about Seungkwan and all that you had loved earlier. And Sehun charmed you so neatly- with gifts, affection and everything you wanted. It was so different from the manner in which Seungkwan had loved you- while he’d been tender, always asking you before doing anything, never discouraging and always supporting in the background, Sehun was more active, more aggressive in the way he made you feel special. He would often take you on these whirlwind date nights- where he would make love to you under the stars in entire picnic spots he would book for you, where you drove for miles away from the city and spent the weekend in tea plantations, where you didn’t even have to ask and he would drop the world at your feet. It was a new sort of heaven, a rush of adrenaline you had never experienced before. Not with your parents- who had never treated you with any affection. Not with Seungkwan- who’d been equally giving, but shy, passive and so soft in his love. And this rush of adrenaline blew you off your feet.

Until the news arrived.

One month into this new marriage, you’d found out, only by accident, that you were pregnant. Had been pregnant for an entire month. Sehun was, of course, overjoyed. You’d asked the doctor to not tell him the exact duration of your pregnancy, because of course, you knew that it wasn’t possible that the child growing inside you had been conceived with Sehun at least a week before your wedding.

That really broke you out of the haze your new marriage had trapped you in. Guilt and sadness tore into your newly patched up heart and reminded you of the boy you’d left behind at home, without even a message of where you were going. God knows how worried he may have been for you. Instead of considering him even once, you’d been swayed away by the pleasures of married life like a fool, that too, with a man you knew no more than a mere family friend, with a man whom, honestly, you did not love, with a man who had been planted in your life by your parents to distract you away from Seungkwan.

Oh god.

Your parents had won, and you’d lost.

And that broke you down. No matter how hard Sehun tried, he could not get your spirit back into the relationship- and you knew that this was the end of your marriage. After that, everything was just hollow clockwork, living with a stranger who slept in your bed, ate on the same dining table, and resided under the same roof as yours. You had become reckless. Under the added influence of hormones, you let yourself get aloof from everyone and everything, choosing to bury yourself in your self-pity and detaching yourself from society.

And then it was only Dahyun who made you smile again.

Little Dahyun who became the light of your life. Your reason to live again, your reason to find meaning and joy again. Because she was a part of you. And because she was a part of Seungkwan. So you’d named her accordingly. Your little bundle of sunshine.

Oh boy, did she look like her father. Of course, Sehun never found out. He was extremely caring towards Dahyun, ever a doting father, just as giving and aggressive about his love as he had been as a husband. It was a miracle that Dahyun was born slightly later than nine months- never causing any suspicion to rise in his mind at all. And it broke your heart a little bit, but then you remembered that Sehun was never on your side, really. For all you knew, perhaps he’d just been instructed by your parents to make you feel so loved that it would make you forget about Seungkwan. And he’d definitely succeeded. Almost.

Eventually, you became less of a wreck and more normal. Mostly because of Dahyun and how you wanted to be the best mother ever for her. But also because you realised that this was not worth giving up all your happiness for. So you went back to the world- socialising, finding a job, and doing everything you could to settle down into this life in your new home. But it never really became your home. At the end of the day, when you’d lie down in your bed with Dahyun cradled in your arms, you’d still have that empty feeling somewhere inside, wanting more from life. But obviously, you never dared to tell anyone the truth. You don’t have a way out, so it was best to fit in, until opportunity arose.

“Eomma, Seungkwan Ssaem said yes!” Dahyun’s shrill voice greets you when you arrive at the creche. “Yes to what, sweetie?” “To my birthday, of course!” She’s snugly sitting on Seungkwan’s shoulders, and it strikes you in full force, just how much she resembles her father. The large boba brown eyes, crinkled at the edges, the bangs slipping back to reveal an elegant forehead with the tiny nose and small, rosy lips, that highlight the high cheekbones and the full, plump cheeks you so adore. It’s a wonder no one has noticed it before. And you dearly hope it remains like that.

“Oh, you invited him, did you now?” You carefully ask, as Seungkwan lets Dahyun climb off his back and towards the shoe rack. “Her birthday is this Sunday. Of course, I won’t expect you to attend. She’s a child… she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She just wants to invite everyone she likes to her party, I guess.”

“It’s an honour to be liked by someone as fascinating as Dahyun-ah, Y/N. It’s hurtful that you don’t expect me to be at her party on her special invitation.” He smiles, that gentle, indulging smile of his which he uses whenever he’s teasing you, and you know it’s coming but you always get so riled up by his teasing.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that… oh god. I haven’t gotten better with words with time, have I?”

Seungkwan’s smile becomes wider.

“You haven’t changed at all.”

You remember the night of Dahyun’s third birthday party in Gwangju. Sehun had organised the most lavish party for her, complete with balloons of every colour and inviting nearly all her classmates at her school. Dahyun, ever the extrovert, had been so happy that night.

But that was the night everything changed.

Sehun takes you into a room, away from the crowds of the party, and you ask him, confused, “What’s going on?”

“You know I went to the hospital today with Dahyun to get her regular checkup from her paediatrician.”

“I do know, yes. What about it?”

“Guess what he said. He said, among other things, Dahyun was late-born child. She was born ten months after she was conceived, not nine months.”

You drop the glass you were holding in your hand, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Oppa, I can explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. She isn’t mine, is she?”

You heave a breath as you try to calculate what his next step might be. You try to calculate whether offense or defense should be your correct strategy here, because truly you have nothing to lose, except your daughter. If Sehun kicks you out and makes a show in front of your parents, you’ll run away so far that they’ll never be able to track you.

But he doesn’t give you a chance to speak.

“We were never really married, were we?” His hand shakes as he comes to cup your cheek. “Let’s not stay together any longer. Let’s get divorced, hmm?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Out of every possible answer that he could’ve given, this is undoubtedly the best, and the safest, one.

“Yes, let’s do that, Sehun. Let’s not pretend we love each other anymore.”

Tonight, you’ve tried to give her a little bit of that splendour Sehun had given her while you both had been in Gwangju. You’ve baked her a cake with three types of chocolate, invited as many of her friends from school as she’d ever mentioned in her stories about school, and cooked tteokbokki and tangsuyuk, her favourite dishes, for the entire group at the party.

But then Seungkwan arrives.

Seeing him reminds you of his words at the creche where you last saw him, which had given you butterflies for the past few nights. He’d taken you back to the giggling mess you’d been at the freshman’s welcome party when Seungkwan had complimented your dress that you’d tailored for yourself and taken away your heart. Of course, it had taken many more months for you to gather the courage to even speak to him, and then more months for you both to officially begin dating, but you’d known on that night of the welcome party that Boo Seungkwan would always be your weakness.

And you were right. His words have lingered in your mind these last few days, and now that he’s arrived at Dahyun’s party with another teacher from the school who Dahyun had specially invited, wearing a black shirt and black trousers, his hair gelled up and a bit of lip balm on his lips, he’s still giving you butterflies.

“Thank you for coming really! Dahyun will be so overjoyed. She’s just in the other room with all the friends, they’re playing with her toys.”

“Oh it’s nothing at all. We just dropped by because we love Dahyun so much, and because hyung was so insistent,” the other teacher, Chan, says. “We haven’t met each other yet, have we?” “No, I’m afraid not. But I have heard so much about your dance classes from Dahyunie. She’s really big on sports and dancing, such an active child. A complete opposite from me, so it’s a little hard for me to understand.” You smile as you hand them both a piece of the birthday cake.

“Oh, she must’ve taken after her dad.” Chan says with a smile, unknowingly speaking the truth.

“You’re right. She has.”

“This tastes amazing, Y/N-ah.” Seungkwan quietly says as he eats his cake.

“Oh. I’m glad. I made it for her. Chocolate is her favourite flavour.”

“Would it be too much for ask for another slice?” Chan says with a giggle, and you cry out, “Of course not! I’m a bad host for not offering you anyway. I’m sorry, here you go.”

“So, you and hyung know each other from college, I heard.”

Seungkwan’s sharp breath can be heard and you’re instantly on the edge. “Yes. We… were friends.” We were in love. “Your hyung wanted to become a volleyball star at that time, Chan-ssi.” I stole his dream from him. “Oh really? I never knew you played it so seriously, hyung! Y/N-ssi, did you also play?” “Oh no. Like I said, I was never into sports.”

“No.” You almost miss Seungkwan’s voice. “Your parents never encouraged you to try out sports.” Chan looks at him puzzled, and he continues, “It’s important for parents to let children experiment with different things as a child to let them make their own choices. I hope you won’t make the same mistakes your parents made, Y/N-ah.”

You’re silent for a second before replying, “I’m here because I’m not going to make the same mistakes, Seungkwan. But it’s fair for you to not trust me to be a good mother.”

“I never said that,” his eyes soften. “I’ve always known you’d be the best mother, Y/N-ah. And I can see that in the way Dahyun’s been brought up.”

In that moment with electricity charged between your gazes, you’ve both forgotten about Chan sitting there right in between you two. There’s so much going unsaid, so much you can’t even explain, so much you don’t even want to admit to yourself.

“Chan Ssaem! Seungkwan Ssaem! You came!” Dahyun bursts in suddenly, and behind her are a flurry of other tiny kids from her class. They all cheer very loudly on seeing their teachers, quite shocked to see them outside class. Seungkwan gives her a gift- it’s a set of jigsaw puzzles, and Chan places a faux crown on her head as he gives her a book. The tensions dissolve, and you’re glad.

Chan leaves after a short while, but on your (and Dahyun’s) request, Seungkwan stays. He stays long enough to see all the kids leave one by one, and Dahyun becoming tired from all that playing and chattering. So after you’ve cleaned up the house from the mess of the party, grateful that your daughter enjoyed so much but also overstimulated from it all, you almost cry when you see Seungkwan sitting on the couch with Dahyun asleep in his lap, his head bent as he scrolls through his phone. You wonder, if in another life, in another world, in another universe, this would be your life and not a mirage you yearned for.

But what if you were brave? What if you could be ambitious and try to have it all in this life itself?

“Ice cream for dessert.” You hand the bowl to Seungkwan as you sit on the other side of the sofa. You softly take Dahyun and twist her into your lap, and she instantly wraps herself around you as she finds your warmth. You can’t help but kiss her forehead fondly, mirroring the expression Seungkwan wears right now.

“You’ve really brought her up so well. She’s got all your good genes.”

“And yours.”

Seungkwan’s hand stills mid-air when he was trying to scoop into the ice cream.

“What did you say?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered. She is four years old, and she looks remarkably like you. The similarities are obvious.”

“But I… I didn’t dare to- no! You’re lying.” Seungkwan’s voice becomes a harsh whisper as he stares at you incredulously. You match his gaze, letting down your shield. “I’m not.” He continues to stare at you. Then he suddenly drops to his knees near your feet and says, “Y/N. Don’t be cruel to me anymore. You can’t joke about-” “I’m not joking, Seungkwan, why won’t you believe me?” “Because I don’t want to believe and become hopeful only to lose it all again!” You’re both nearly shouting but in loud whispers, trying to not wake up Dahyun, who’s surprisingly, still peacefully snoring away.

You stand up and pull Seungkwan to his feet. Then you drag him to the bedroom and gently close the door.

“You can test it. I’m not lying.” You softly grab his wrist, but he shivers. “You’re going to make me mad, Y/N. How is this possible? Why did you not tell me? Why did you leave me then?” He finally asks, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Do you really not know?”

“No… I do. You sent that letter.”

“I didn’t. I found out years later about it. My mother sent it. You think I’d break up with you over a typed letter?”

“So? What was it for?”

“They didn’t let me out of the house. Wouldn’t let me meet you. Or anyone. The only way to get out of that hell was to marry Sehun.”

“I read about the wedding in the local newspaper.” He shakes his head bitterly. “But he was truly your match- in status, and in wealth.”

“You know I’ve never cared for anything like that.” You tug at his wrist, and he looks up at you.

“Is that why you left him? Because of Dahyun? But why so late then?”

“I was waiting to gather enough finances. Plus, he didn’t even suspect anything until six months ago. Perfectly timed, coincidentally, for my savings to come up to a good amount for me to confidently move out.”

He shakes his head vigorously, his eyes wide. “No, no… you’re not making sense. Can you start from the beginning?”

So you do. You tell him everything, from the beginning. By the end of it, he’s sitting on your bed, next to you, as you both stare at your feet. It feels so relieving and so freeing to tell him, someone apart from yourself the whole truth. It’s like a weight lifted off your chest and a headache that dissipates into thin air. You slouch back and look at Seungkwan, who’s still looking like he’s in shock.

After a solid ten minutes, he says, “Why didn’t you tell me before, Y/N?”

“I… I don’t know. I didn’t know how you’d react, I didn’t know if you’d accept us. I didn’t know what would happen if somehow the truth reached my parents. I was obsessed with protecting my daughter, first, you see.”

“I do see. But I… it still hurts that you didn’t trust me with it.”

“But it would be fair for you… back then, and even now, to not want us in your life. To remain strangers forever. I- I would understand. You have every right to be angry at me-”

“I’d think you would know me better than this, Y/N-ah. You would know that no matter how many times you leave me, if you ever want to come back I would open my arms wide and fall to your feet to let me love you again.”

A stray tear escapes your eyes. It’s a stab to your chest, and you extend a hand slowly to touch Seungkwan’s hands which lie in his lap. He doesn’t say a word, only opens his fingers to capture your hand in his and tightly seals the clasp. It’s so warm, his hands. The touch is remarkably familiar.

“What do you want, Seungkwan-ah? I’ve given it all up to you. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

He just looks up at you, his hand still holding on to yours. He doesn’t say a word, but then he gently leans in. You think he’s going to whisper something, but then he places a small kiss on your lips. It’s a peck, no more, but it sends your body in overdrive. Suddenly, you’re floating and drowning all at the same time. “She has your hair,” he says, his breath mingling into yours as his lips move just a few inches away from you, eyes still locked. You giggle. It’s true- Dahyun’s hair is just the same as yours, but the rest of her completely looks like him, you know. “I can’t… I can’t believe it that you’re here, Kwan-ah.” “Neither can I. When you arrived at the creche that day, I thought I was hallucinating. Even more when I saw your little girl sitting in your arms.” “Our little girl. We made her.” You can see the way Seungkwan’s entire face turns red. “Fuck, Y/N. How can you say it so easily?” “Because I’ve had four years to adjust to it. I’m sorry if I’ve bombed you with too much information too fast.” “No kidding. It felt like that climax scene from a romcom movie except this is real life, it was my life.” “Don’t be dramatic. Why did you kiss me?” “Because I missed you?” And it’s your turn to become red with embarrassment. Some part of you feels overjoyed, but still so guilty. So you move away from him, taking away from your hand from his grip and turning your entire body away.

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry, Kwan-ah. I’ve hurt you so much already. You shouldn’t forgive me so easily.”

He softly grips your shoulders and turns you to face him. “I have been hurt by your actions, it’s true. You left me in an abyss from which only I know how I escaped. But it still didn’t feel like you. After all the love you gave me, how could you just run away from me by leaving that letter and marry someone else? I couldn’t believe that you could be so cruel, so deceiving. But everything around me told me I was wrong. Your marriage announcement, the way you didn’t call me or even contact me, or in fact, any of our college friends, everything was eventually proving to me that you were gone forever from my life.”

More tears flood down your cheeks. His grip tightens, and he continues. “But you’ve explained the truth to me, and now I can’t help but forgive you. Because I know I was right. All along, in my heart, I knew it and I was right. And now you’re here. I would be a fool to let you go again.”

“But-”

“There’s no buts. I’m not looking back.”

And he hugs you, his warmth engulfing your entire body as you cling to him. He smells sweet, like he did all those years ago, and you hold him close, so close that you can’t breathe but you can’t let go either.

“Baby? I can’t breathe.” Seungkwan whispers in your ears, and you shiver in the shock of hearing the pet name. “I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“No, don’t be sorry. Let’s get Dahyunie into bed, hmm? Do you sleep with her?”

“I do. This is our bedroom.”

“Then let’s get her to bed.”

“Will you stay?”

“Hmm?” Seungkwan looks at you, his eyes wet but fond, as he walks towards the door to pick up Dahyun where she’s sleeping on the couch.

“Stay with us?”

“Are you going to tell Dahyun?”

“What do you say?”

“It’s your call. You’re her mother.”

“And you’re her father,” you whisper as you walk towards him and sling your hands around his neck.

“God, don’t say it so casually. It hasn’t sunk in yet.”

You lean in and kiss him on his cheek. “I was thinking- maybe if she woke up and found her favourite Ssaem cuddling her, would she be pleasantly surprised?”

“What if she gets creeped out?”

“Oh god. I think Dahyun loves you enough to not be creeped out by it. At most, she’d think we’re dating now.”

“We’re not?”

“Are we?”

He kisses you softly on your cheek, an open-mouthed kiss that leaves your skin wet. “I love you Y/N. I never stopped loving you. Will you have me back again in your life?”

You hug him tightly again, your nerves tingling with joy. “Oh god, I love you too, Seungkwan-ah. I’ll love you better this time.”

“Shh, darling. Let’s get our little baby to sleep now, hmm?”

You look at him, and you see stars. It’s a miracle, nothing short of that. But he’s yours. Again.

“Shall we change her last name to Boo now?”

“Oh dear. Boo Dahyun?”

“It sounds so cute!”

“Now stop squealing or I can’t open the door otherwise she’ll wake up!”

“Sorry, I’ll be quiet, baby.”

He smiles widely and kisses you again, full on your mouth, “I promise, I’ll never let you go. Nor Dahyunie. I love you so much.”

a/n: read the stories of the other three boys here! would love to hear your feedback!

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jessicas-pi · 2 days

Text

Bo and the Blueberry AU incorrect quotes

Bo-Katan: How’s school going? Ezra: Terrible. I want to stab everybody there. Bo-Katan: Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes. Ezra: …you shouldn’t be condoning this.

---

Ezra: If history repeats, I'm so getting a Mythosaur.

---

Sabine: I'm not mean. Name one mean thing I’ve ever done. Ezra: When we were kids, you convinced me eggs weren't real. Sabine: They're not. Ezra: Haha, very funny. Sabine: I'm serious. Didn't you hear? Ezra: No… what happened? Sabine: …Why would you fall for this again-

---

Din (after Ezra becomes Mand'alor): I think I mostly want to see what happens when this whole place breaks apart.

---

Sabine: You know what’s funny about Ezra? He’s my best friend, and anyone who’d hurt him is someone I’d murder, probably.

---

Bo-Katan: We'll talk about this later. Ezra: Ok, I won’t be listening.

---

Tristan: I found an old note that said Note to self: Get revenge on Ezra. Tristan: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Tristan: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Ezra: Hmm… I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Tristan: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Ezra: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Tristan: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

---

Bo-Katan: Come on, Ursa. Nobody actually believes that Din is in love with me. Ursa, to the other Mandalorians: Raise your hand if you think that Din is helplessly in love with Bo-Katan. *Everyone raises their hand* Bo-Katan: Din, put your hand down.

---

Korkie, looking at his friends: I need to become a therapist faster.

---

Ezra: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird? Tristan: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

---

Ezra, to Sabine: You drink too much, swear too much, and your morals are highly questionable. Sabine: … Ezra: You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a best friend.

---

Ezra: Your smile? It makes my day. Sabine: Your happiness? I live for that. Korkie: A room? Get one. Tristan: Hotel? Trivago.

---

Ezra, texting Bo-Katan: *sends a voice message* Bo-Katan, texting back: I’m a little busy, is it urgent? Ezra: No, don’t worry, just listen later. *later* Bo-Katan: *presses play* Ezra's voice message: THERE’S A FIRE-

---

Sabine: Relationships should be 50/50. Ezra tries to be Mand'alor while I sit on the armrest of his throne looking intimidating.

---

Ezra: I need life advice. Korkie, sipping Space Gatorade and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person.

---

Sabine: Okay, I’m going to make sure the flower decorations have arrived. Ezra: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Sabine: … Sabine: You mean ring bearER, right? Ezra: … Sabine: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

---

Bo-Katan: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Ezra: Mine just says "Ezra no." Bo-Katan: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

---

Tristan: Why is Ezra making me do the dishes again? You haven’t washed them in a week, Sabine! Sabine: It’s because I’m Ezra’s favorite. Tristan: I hate you.

---

Korkie: I have a bad feeling about this, guys. Sabine: Oh don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Ezra: Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen? Korkie, being bailed out of jail the next morning: I hate you all.

#bo and the blueberry au #sabezra #dinbo #incorrect quotes

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tortillamastersblog · 3 days

Text

♕ No Matter What - Part 7 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: mentions of some shooting, throwing up, blood and death

________________________________________________

I get up with shaking hands, watching Lena as she begins pacing.

“Who is he?” she snaps. “Your boyfriend?!”

I flinch and take a step back. Not only am I completely taken aback by her sudden lack of trust, I’m also fragile because of the reminder of what day it is tomorrow.

“Lena— What? No! He’s not my boyfriend,” I defend quietly, my voice wavering. I swallow to get rid of the growing lump in my throat, but it just makes it worse.

Lena whips around and stares me down with a harsh glare. “No? Then who is he and why did you try to hide it when his name popped up on your phone?”

I open my mouth to reply, but the words get stuck in my throat. What has gotten into her? She has no right to attack me like this. Not when I haven’t given her a single reason not to trust me.

Scoffing when I don’t answered, she aggressively runs a hand through her hair. “That’s what I thought. My God, I should have never listened to Sam. You’re just like everyone else. A lying, cheating—“

“He’s my brother!” I blurt out weakly, every word she just said breaking my heart. My knees are weak and it’s taking everything in me not to break down crying right now.

Lena pauses and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Nice try. You told me you don’t have any siblings. Honestly, I don’t know how I let this whole thing between us get this far.”

I feel my bottom lip tremble and avert my eyes to the ground. Why is she being so cruel? I clench my fists and work my jaw as Lena goes on berating me.

“And to make up a brother. . . You really are something else. You know, if it weren’t for your contract I’d fire you on the spot.”

A tear rolls down my cheek and I lift a trembling hand to wipe it away. I don’t say anything and just stare at the floor, waiting for Lena to continue.

She doesn’t go on however and when I dare to glance at her I find her watching me incredulously.

“Why are you cry—?”

“I am not making him up,” I say sternly which seems to surprise her. She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off again. “And I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t have any siblings because he’s dead.”

Lena’s eyes widen.

“It’s the anniversary of his death tomorrow and I was planning on leaving some flowers on his grave, hence the reminder. And I didn’t want you to see because I’m not ready to talk about what happened yet.” I grab my bag from next to the couch and sling it over my shoulder, too hurt to even acknowledge the regret on Lena’s face. “Now, I know you can’t fire me, but I can quit, so don’t worry. You’ll have my letter of resignation on your desk by tomorrow morning.“

“Y/N, that’s not what I— I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. . . Please don’t—“

I hold up a hand and shake my head with a stray tear rolling down my cheek. “No, don’t worry about it, Ms. Luthor. I should probably get going now if I am to accompany you to the office later.”

Lena looks close to tears as well now, but I don’t give her a chance to say anything else as I brush past her, leaving without turning back.

How everything could go this wrong this quickly is a mystery to me.

It makes my heart ache and part of me is screaming at me to turn back and forgive Lena for jumping to conclusions. The other part however, the one that is irreversibly hurt by what just happened, is telling me to leave, which is what I ultimately do.

Maybe Lena was right. Things shouldn’t have gone as far as they did between us. I am, after all, just her bodyguard.

A year ago– Somewhere overseas. . .

“Christ I’m sweating like a pig,” Noah grumbles, pulling at the collar of his uniform.

We’re standing outside in the blazing sun, guarding the locals as they unload the truck of supplies we brought them. It’s a day like any other and for weeks now nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

“Yeah? Well, stop fretting, you’re only making it worse,” I scold lightheartedly as I shift the gun in my arms. It is hot, yes, but Noah is being a baby about it.

Harper snickers beside me and Noah sends her a dirty look. “You two are unbelievable,” he says with an eye roll, however when he turns his attention back to the locals I see a faint smile on his lips.

Harper beams and shoves me playfully. I smile and return the gesture.

That’s when one of the locals approaches me. “We’ve finished unloading the truck. Thank you again for all your help.” He stretched out his hand and I shake it with a polite nod.

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else we can—?”

The sound of screeching breaks makes me whip my head around and my eyes widen at the sight of an old truck that has come to a stop in a cloud of dust.

Several men, armed with guns jump off the back of it and before I can call out any orders, they open fire on me and my squad.

“Get down!” I shout, pulling the local behind a stack of rice bags. “Miller, radio for help!”

Harper and Noah join me while the rest of the squad finds shelter behind our truck.

Bullets whiz past us everywhere and the panicked screams of the locals make my stomach flip.

Stay calm! I remind myself, gripping my gun until my knuckles are white. Panic will get you killed.

“Miller?” I shout again as I peak over the bags, returning some of the fire before ducking back down. “Miller, where are you? Jones? Martinez!”

There’s no answer and knowing what that means, I clench my jaw and force away the burning feeling behind my eyes.

“What do we do?” Harper shouts next to me as she reloads her gun. “We’re trapped.”

Miller was the only one in the squad with a radio because for weeks now everything’s been calm and some superiors decided the extra radios should go to the squad’s that actually fight the rebels, not the ones doing supply runs.

“There’s a radio in the truck!” I remember, but the chances of getting to it without being hit are slim to none.

I have to do something though, so I grab Noah by the collar and pull him closer so he can hear me over the gunfire. “You two, cover me!” I shout, ignoring the way his and Harper’s eyes widen in terror.

“No! You can’t—!” he begins to protests but I tighten my grip on his uniform which shuts him up.

“I can and I will! I’m your superior officer and I’m not losing anyone else today, you hear me?!”

Noah has tears in his eyes, but he nods nonetheless. I turn to Harper to find her with the same, horror filled eyes.

“Do you hear me?” I ask again, swallowing the fear that’s bubbling up in the back of my throat.

“Yes, Sergeant!” They reply in unison and I take a deep breath before counting down.

“Alright, on three. One, two, three!” I jump up, gun at the ready, and move to leap over the bags of rice.

As soon as I get to my feet though, I’m knocked back by something hitting my shoulder. I cry out in pain and fall back down, clutching at where I’ve been hit.

One of the rebels must have waited for one of us to show themselves…

“Y/N!” Harper screeches, pressing her hand down on my chest a little below my shoulder. “Fuck!”

The local who’s frozen in place, pales at the sight of my blood and throws up right in his lap and if it weren’t for our current circumstances I would have gagged at the sight.

This can’t be how it ends!

I grit my teeth and shove Harper’s hand away. “I’m fine. We have to try again. We need to get to that radio!”

I try to get a hold of my gun again but as soon as I move, a jolt of pain shoots through me and I fall back with a pained whimper.

It’s enough for Harper to press her hand against my shoulder again, pinning me down with a warning look. “You can’t do this. You’re losing to much blood. We’ll have to think of something else.”

I shake my head and fidget with the clasp of my helmet. It feels like the strap is strangling me, but I know better than to take it off.

“There’s no time, Harper! Just let me—!”

“I’ll do it.”

I turn my head to find Noah watching us with a blank stare. I’ve never seen him like this and I know whatever he’s thinking can’t be good.

“I’ll do it,” he says again and that’s when I realize what he means.

“You will do no such thing!” I say sternly as he goes to return some of the fire before ducking back down.

“But we need backup!” he argues and I watch as a bead of sweat drips from the tip of his nose.

It really is hot today, isn’t it?

“You’re not going out there, Private. That is an order!” I wince when Harper applies more pressure to my shoulder.

“I can’t just let you die!” Noah screams and he reloads his gun with newfound determination. “I’m going to get that radio and call for backup!”

I grab his arm and yank him back down just as he’s about to get up. “No, you are not! You’re staying right here. We’ll think of something else.”

Noah’s eyes meet mine and for a moment the gunfire around us is muted. He smiles apologetically and takes the hand I have on his arms into his own.

I’m sorry, he mouths and before I can stop him again he’s escaped my grasp.

“Noah!”

Present– National City. . .

After showering and getting ready for the day, I make my way back to Lena’s apartment building where I wait for her by the front desk after shoving my bike into the janitors closet.

Ann tries to strike up a conversation as soon as her eyes land on me, but when my replies come out somewhat clipped, she lets it go.

I honestly don’t know what I’m feeling right now. Earlier I was hurt and angry, but now I’m not really feeling anything.

I will do my job as professionally as I can and have my resignation letter on Lena’s desk by tomorrow morning, just like she wanted.

I am still worried about Lex coming after her, but she’s made it clear what she thinks of me and I can’t do my job if she doesn’t trust me.

When the elevator doors open and Lena steps out, her eyes dart around until they land on me. She relaxes visibly and approaches quickly with regret and worry written all over her face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry about earlier. I should have never said what I said and I don’t want you to—“

I shake my head and square my shoulders, trying my best to sound professional when I say, “Don’t apologize, Ms. Luthor. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m just here to do my job.”

Lena deflates and she frowns sorrowfully. “Y/N, please. . . I didn’t mean—“

I check my watch and clear my throat, cutting her off once again. “We should get going if you don’t want to be late for your interview with Ms. Danvers.”

Lena’s bottom lip trembles and I have to dig my nails into the palm of my hand to stop myself from rushing forward to comfort her.

Her words cut unimaginably deep earlier and I can’t forgive her for it just yet. Or ever. I haven’t made my mind up about it yet because all I can think about is Noah and Harper who tried calling me again just before I got here.

“Alright then,” Lena gives in with a dejected sigh.

We go outside where Alfred is already waiting in the car. I open the rear–passenger door and wait until Lena gets in. Then I close it, ignoring the hurt in her eyes when I opt to sit in front with Alfred, rather than in the back with her like I normally do.

The interview with Kara had gone well, as far as I could tell when Lena hugged the blonde goodbye with a genuine smile. That smile, however, faded when her eyes met mine briefly and she quickly disappeared into her office again, leaving me outside with Jess who was busy at her computer.

And that’s where I’m still at right now, reading a news article on my phone while Lena’s in her office with Sam who decided to show up ten minutes ago.

Upon seeing me, she instantly knew something was wrong, but I just waved her off when I could feel Lena watching us from the doorway to her office.

She didn’t say anything but sent me a look that made it clear we were going to talk about what was going on as soon as we were alone.

“You did what?!”

Sam’s shriek makes me flinch and I can’t help but move a little closer to the closed office door. Jess isn’t at her desk because she went out to get coffee, so I don’t have to worry about getting caught eavesdropping.

“I know, I messed up pretty badly.” Lenas muffled voice sounds like she’s genuinely sorry and I know for a fact that they’re talking about what happened this morning.

“You think?” Sam retorts sarcastically. “God, Lena. . . What is wrong with you?“

“I don’t know, Sam!” Lena sounds desperate and it makes my heart ache involuntarily. “I just— I’ve been burned so many times before and Jack—“

“Y/N is not Jack though,” Sam cuts in and it’s quiet for a moment.

Then Lena mumbles what sounds like, “I know. . .” followed by a “What am I supposed to do now?”

I sigh and move away from the door again. What they’re talking about is none of my business even though they’re taking about me.

It also doesn’t help that I wouldn’t be able to answer that question myself. What could Lena possibly do to undo what she did this morning?

I honestly don’t know and before I can lend that question any more thought, my phone starts ringing.

I glance at the screen to see that it’s Harper again.

I roll my eyes with half a mind to decline the call, but then I think better of it and reluctantly answer with a strained, “What do you want, Harper?”

________________________________________________

I’m not all too happy with how this part turned out, but I’m not in the mood to rewrite it. Proofreading (like always) will be done over the course of the next couple of days.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that I love your comments and that I read every single one of them even though I don’t reply to all of them <3

Tag list: @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy

#x reader #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #supergirl cw #dc universe #dcu

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lives-in-midgard · 3 days

Text

Fake it till you make it

Pairing: Yelena Belova x reader

Summary: After you lied to someone about dating Yelena, you ask her to be your fake girlfriend for the Avengers party.

Word Count: 1180

Request: Reader asks that because she told the guy who wants to date her she already has a date and she knows he would find out during the party that it’s not true. [See full request here]

Prompt 10: “Can you please pretend to be my date? Just this time.”

A/N: Thank you for sending me this request! I hope you like it.

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Yesterday you came back from a mission with the Avengers and were now standing outside of the compound, enjoying the good weather. In about an hour there will be a meeting about the mission that you all successfully completed. Your friend and crush Yelena Belova will also come here for the meeting, and you are looking forward to seeing her again.

“Hey, y/n.” You heard someone say behind you. You turned around and saw that it was Bryan, a shield agent you had worked with a few times. At first, he was very kind to you, but after a while he started flirting with you and didn’t want to leave you alone even though you said you weren’t interested in going on a date with him.

“Hey, Bryan.” You greeted him, trying to be friendly.

“You look really beautiful.” He suddenly said and you made a step away from him.

“You know there is this Stark party on Friday and I thought we could go there together as a date?”

“Oh, I actually have other plans.” You said.

“Come on, this will be fun. We can also have dinner before the party, and I can show you my apartment later.” He said with a smirk, and you started to feel uncomfortable.

“No, I already have a date.” You suddenly said without thinking it through.

“You have a date? Who? I thought you were single.” He asked, not believing what you just said.

“Well, no, I’m dating someone.” You paused for a moment as you noticed Yelena driving over with her motorcycle.

“I’m dating Yelena Belova…she’s my girlfriend.” You lied, surprised by your own answer.

“You’re dating Belova?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, you can see it yourself on Friday.” You immediately regretted what you said because how can you ask Yelena to be your date?? You have to go there with Yelena, otherwise he wouldn’t believe you and probably won’t leave you alone.

“Okay, I’m curious.”

“I have to go.” You said and walked away. You went into the compound and searched for Yelena. You had to ask her as soon as possible. You quickly found her in the living room talking to Natasha.

“Hey, Yelena, can we talk?”

“Sure, what’s up?” She said with a smile.

“Can we talk in my room please?” You asked and Yelena looked at Natasha for a second and then went with you your room.

“Is everything okay?” Yelena asked nervously.

“You know that there is this Stark party on Friday, right?” You asked and Yelena nodded. Then you had to pause because you didn’t know what to say next or how to explain that you need her to pretend to be your girlfriend.

“I... I “ You started, but weren’t sure what to say.

“Hey, what’s wrong, you’re scaring me.”

“I need you to be my date on that party and pretend to be my girlfriend.” You quickly said and Yelena was confused.

“Could you please be my fake girlfriend?” You said and when Yelena didn’t say anything, you got nervous.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Can you please pretend to be my date? Just this time.” You said and Yelena thought about it.

“Okay, fine, but you have to tell me why.” She said and you told her everything, starting from the day that shield agent started making you uncomfortable. Yelena listened and got mad because of this Agent wouldn’t leave you alone. She promised to play your girlfriend, so he would believe it.

The time passed quickly and suddenly it was the day of the party. You and Yelena meet before the party to discuss the do’s and don’ts, so that neither of you would feel uncomfortable.

You walked down the stairs with Yelena next to you, feeling a little nervous. Before you went to join the others, she looked at you with a smile and reached for your hand. When Yelena took your hand, you were no longer nervous. You actually felt so safe next to her.

When you entered the room, everyone was already in party mode. Everyone was dancing, singing or had a drink at the bar. Everyone had fun and enjoyed the time. As you and Yelena walked to the bar where Natasha was, you saw Bryan looking at you and Yelena. Yelena noticed where you were looking and when she saw Bryan, she suddenly cupped your cheek and kissed you softly.

“I think he believes it now.” She said and you got a little sad because she only kissed you, so he would think you’re dating.

“Yeah” You said and walked over to Natasha.

“Wow, you two are taking this fake dating very serious.” Natasha said with a grin.

“Of course, we do.” Yelena said and Natasha chuckled. You sat next to Yelena, holding her hand and sometimes she kissed you on your cheek. After sitting there for a while, you started to feel sad because you and Yelena are only going to get so close tonight.

You asked for a drink, then for another one and after a while you were drunk. You were laughing and started singing along to the song that was playing.

“I love this song.” You shouted and Yelena chuckled.

“Let’s go dancing. “ You said to Yelena, but she shook her head.

“No, let’s stay here.”

“Why?” You asked, making a sad face. She wanted to answer, but then you saw Steve behind Yelena.

“Heyyyyyy Steve!” You shouted and waved at him. Steve smiled and waved back at you.

“Sestra, I think you should take your girlfriend to her room.” Natasha said as you rested your head on Yelena’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on, let’s go to your room.” Yelena said to you, stood up from the chair and reached for your hand. You took her hand with a smile and walked to your room. Once you were in your room, you sat down on your bed and started to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Yelena asked curiously, sitting next to you.

“Isn’t it funny how I asked you to be my fake date?” You said and Yelena looked confused.

“I think it’s funny, especially since I have a crush on you.” You said and then went quiet.

“What did you just say?”

“Oh no, did I really just say that?”

“I’m so sorry, I understand if we can’t be friends anymore.” You said and looked away.

“Of course, we can still be friends and maybe we could even be more than friends.” Yelena said and now it was your time to be shocked.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you.” Yelena confessed and you started to smile.

“How about we kiss again, but this time for real?” Yelena asked with a grin, and you nodded.

Looks like asking Yelena to be your fake date wasn’t such a bad idea. Otherwise you wouldn’t have confessed that you love each other. You’re glad that you finally know that she has the same feelings for you.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @yelenasdiary | @youralphawolf72 | @buckys-wintersoldier

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emeraldsummers · 1 day

Text

Fic: More Than An Ally?

Fandom: 9-1-1

Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hen Wilson, Chimney Han, Maddie Buckley, Christopher Diaz, Tommy Kinard

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (not the focus, it's more about Buck)

Summary:

Buck keeps referring to himself as an ally, mostly by accident, but also because he's not sure he's ready to say what he really is.

(Or, five times Buck calls himself an ally, and one time he doesn't.)

Buck couldn’t stop grinning.

Eyes scanning out across the room, he took in the sight surrounding him. Maddie and Chim, giggling together like they were teenagers, Christopher looking so damn grown up in his suit, Eddie sitting beside him nearly glowing with pride, Hen and Karen’s new daughter beaming at being able to show off her family, Tommy standing beside the buffet table, fully engrossed in conversation with an old teammate, wearing the hell out of his dress uniform in a way that made Buck feel like the luckiest guy in the room.

He played with the medal hanging around his neck. A medal he had earned for saving lives, for doing the right thing, for being a hero.

Yeah, today was a good day.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hen approaching him, and he turned to greet her.

“Hey! This is great, isn’t it?”

“Hmm? Yeah, this is fun,” she seemed distracted, looking over Buck’s shoulder as she spoke. “I haven’t gotten a chance to try dessert yet, have you?”

“Yeah, the chocolate mousse is…” he trailed off. “Is everything okay?”

She shook her head at that, and when she looked back at Buck she seemed less unsettled. “Sorry, yeah, everything is good.” At the pointed look he gave her, she admitted, “I’m just trying to avoid talking to Captain Gerrard.”

“Ah,” Buck responded. That made sense.

“You meet him?”

“Briefly,” Buck said. “But mostly I’ve heard the stories.” It had only taken five seconds of listening to Gerrard talk for him to realize the stories probably got worse than the ones he had heard.

“It’s not like I’m scared of him,” she hastily clarified. “I can handle him and any guys like him. It’s just… today is a really nice day. And I don’t need to blemish today with whatever garbage comes out of his mouth.”

And Buck understood that. “Makes sense. He doesn’t deserve even a second of your time. Just stick with me, and if he comes near, we’ll make a run for it.” He gave her a small wink, causing her to laugh.

“Thanks, Buck.” And she sounded like she meant it. Seemed like Buck wasn’t the only one getting sentimental today.

“I know things haven't always been this way. I know that under Gerrard your team didn't have your back. I just want you to always know that now, everyone at this station, we’re all allies here,” he said sincerely.

Hen made a face before letting out a short laugh. “Allies, Buck? Really? You?”

And, huh. Buck hadn’t realized he had said, so he quickly corrected, “I meant I’d be your ally. Which I am.”

It sounded like a weak explanation, even to him, but Hen gave him an odd, almost knowing look before saying, “Well, I'll say the same for you. I'm your ally, and everyone else at this station? They're here for you too. They're actually allies, Buck.”

Buck laughed at that, but the emotions of the day were starting to catch up with him and her words were hitting him hard. “I know, Hen. I'm really lucky I was assigned the 118 and I'm lucky it was under Bobby.”

“We both are,” she gave him a nudge before apparently deciding to lift the mood to something lighter. “Anyways,” she said with a grin, “There's definitely one benefit to Gerrard being from the dinosaur’s club.”

At Buck’s quizzical grin, she answered “We’d definitely be able to outrun him.”

II.

The apartment fire ended up being much smaller than originally anticipated, so by the time the 118, the third station to be dispatched, had arrived on the scene, the only job left to do was check the surrounding units to ensure they were still structurally sound. Buck and Chimney were heading up to the fifth floor, enjoying the easy call with casual conversation as they climbed.

“Tommy said he’s got a surprise for our date tonight, but I bet it involves the chopper,” Buck said with a smile. “He’s been hinting at it.”

Chimney gave a quick laugh. “Can’t say I’m jealous. I prefer my dates on the ground. At home.”

“Yeah, well,” Buck said with a sly grin, “The adrenaline is like nothing else, trust me. He took me up a few weeks back, and let me just say…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chimney cut in. “I get it. Don’t need to imagine it.”

“Fine, fine,” Buck sighed. “I’m just saying, I’m excited for this shift to be over.”

After knocking on the last few doors of the fifth floor, the building was clear and it was time to pack up and head back to the station. The lobby of the apartment building was much busier than the stairwell had been, with members of the 273 and 142 packing up their stuff and doing final check-ins with the affected residents.

“You know,” Chim said. “What you mentioned earlier doesn’t surprise me. Tommy always had a thing for flying, even back in the day. He was obsessed with Top Gun.”

Buck laughed at that. When Tommy had found out Buck hadn’t seen it, he’d made sure to watch it for their next movie night, only for them to miss most of it due to getting a bit wound up and therefore distracted. Since it was important to Tommy that Buck actually watched it, they’d tried it again for their next movie night, that time with more success.

“He’s still obsessed, trust me,” Buck replied. Then, with another, louder laugh, “I’m surprised you weren’t able to clock him earlier.” At Chim’s confused expression, Buck continued, “Obsession with Top Gun? That’s like, the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He didn’t realize how loud his voice had grown until the firefighter passing by him stopped dead in his tracks, like he wasn’t sure he heard what he just heard. He was from the 142 and very young, probably still a probie based on the nervous way he was carrying himself. He looked at Buck with his mouth open like he was going to say something, before deciding not to and continuing to walk past, shaking his head.

It took Buck a second before he realized what had just happened. What the probie was probably thinking.

Shit.

“Hey!” Buck called as he followed the probie through the crowd of people. “That came out wrong! I’m not - I’m not homophobic. I’m an ally, okay? Didn’t mean anything by it. I swear!”

The probie was determinedly not turning around to hear Buck out, but Chimney was following him at his side.

“Buck,” he said carefully. Buck knew that tone, knew it meant he was missing something stupidly obvious. He looked at Chimney waiting, but Chim just looked at him incredulously. “You’re dating a man.”

And, oh. Well, duh, Buck thought.

Buck turned back to where the probie had been walking, practically yelling, “Hey! I have a boyfriend! Not homophobic!”

But the probie was gone, slipped completely out of sight, and Buck had no idea if he’d heard him or not. The rest of the 142 definitely did hear him though, based on the way they were glancing at him awkwardly.

Chim patted him on the shoulder with a sigh before walking back to their own truck, leaving Buck to mumble a quick “Just a misunderstanding” before hurrying after him.

III.

Buck was always grateful for dinners with Eddie and Christopher at the Diaz household. Tonight, Eddie was insisting on cooking, much to Christopher’s chagrin, but even though Buck loved cooking for them, he was grateful for the opportunity to sit at the table and hang out with Chris.

Technically, he was supposed to be making sure Chris got his homework done, but Buck preferred to be a bad influence and instead talk about Chris’ day.

“Today, in social studies, we were talking about different kinds of families,” Chris shared.

“Oh yeah? What’s that mean?” Hanging out with Chris, he was always amazed at how different school was now from his own childhood.

“You know, how most people have a mom and a dad. But some people have step-parents. Or guardians. Or two dads. Stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Buck replied. That definitely wasn’t talked about when he was Chris’ age.

“Some people in my class were confused,” Chris continued, “But I already knew that. It’s obvious. Denny has two moms. Harry has a mom and a dad and two step-dads. I have Dad and Carla and you.”

And it was the fact that Chris said that last part so casually, like it was the simplest, most obvious thing in the world that Buck was a part of his family that left Buck speechless.

But Chris continued like he hadn’t just made Buck’s whole year. “Some people in my class had never even heard of people that are L-G-B-T-Q-I-A.” He spelled out the acronym slowly, like he wanted to make sure he said it right.

Buck hummed, trying to think of what to say. He wasn’t sure he was prepared to explain homophobia to a 13-year old, and he wanted to be careful with his words.

But Chris ended up asking something different.

“What does the A stand for?”

Buck let out a relieved sigh. “It uh, it stands for ‘asexual’ or ‘aromantic’. It means someone who doesn’t experience any attraction, or experiences it less than non-ace people.” Buck cringed a bit at himself, fully aware his explanation was lacking, but he wasn’t sure if Chris understood the difference between romantic and sexual attraction yet. “Sometimes, in some contexts, the A stands for ‘ally’”.

“What’s an ally?” Chris asked.

“An ally is someone who… it’s like me and your dad. Someone who isn’t L, G, B, T, or Q, but supports the community and wants to fight for their rights.”

Chris made a face, turning to stare at Buck quizzically. After a beat of silence, Chris finally spoke.

“Buck. You can’t be an ally. You’re with Tommy so you’ve gotta be the G or the B or the Q, right?” And again, he was able to say it like it was the most simple, obvious fact in the world.

Buck let out a nervous laugh that quickly became a genuine one. He had honestly forgotten for a moment, but of course Chris hadn’t.

“You’re right. Your dad’s the ally. I’m… one of those”. Chris didn’t seem to notice him trailing off, and before the conversation could continue, Eddie announced that dinner was served.

“No matter what he made, Chris, make sure you tell him it’s the best dinner ever.”

Christopher groaned, and Buck made his way to the table, eager to enjoy a meal with his family.

IV.

Maddie apologized as she excused herself for Jee-Yun’s night routine, but truthfully this was one of Buck’s favorite parts of visiting his sister after work.

Getting to be there while she went through the peaceful normality of every day routine with her daughter, it filled Buck with such a distinct sense of contentment. He sat in the kitchen, idly playing with his phone, but mostly listening to the domestic sounds around him. The apartment was small enough that he could hear Jee’s shrieks and giggles from the bathtub, hear Maddie negotiating her out of the tub with the promise of her choice of book tonight, and hear Jee trying to start playtime again as Maddie dressed her for bed.

When the apartment finally got quieter, only the low hum of Maddie’s voice audible, Buck quietly stood up and walked closer to Jee’s bedroom. From the hallway near the door, Buck was able to hear Maddie reading the book, a simple story about a princess on her quest to save her kingdom. He closed his eyes, and for a moment he was taken back to his childhood bedroom, to Maddie curled up next to him reading a comedic retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, to her rolling her eyes when he begged her to do the silly voices, to her agreeing just to hear Buck laugh…

Jee-Yun was a lucky girl. She really did have the best mom.

When he could tell the story was winding to a close, he silently made his way back to his spot in the kitchen, not wanting to seem like he was intruding.

A few minutes later, he could hear Maddie making her way back. “Sorry about that,” she said softly. “Bedtime without Daddy always means it takes more time to get her settled.”

“Hey, don’t even worry about it. Wasn’t long at all.” Then after a beat, “When’s Chimney getting home anyways?”

She shrugged. “Probably late. He hasn’t seen Albert in ages, and he hasn’t had a guys night out in even longer.”

He turned to see her carrying a beer in each hand as she made her way over to the table.

“Thanks,” he said as she handed it to him.

She smiled. “I’m never going to complain about getting one-on-one time with my brother.”

Buck laughed before sipping his beer, a thought from earlier coming back to the forefront of his mind.

“Hey, that story you were telling Jee. I noticed it ended with the princess falling in love with another princess…” he trailed off, trying to sound nonchalant, like that detail hadn’t immediately stuck out at him as he was listening.

“You caught that, huh?” She gave him a pensive look before apparently deciding to let it go. “We have books where the princess falls in love with the prince, we have books where the princess falls in love with another princess. We have a book where the princess becomes the prince. We just… we want Jee to know that these are all possibilities for her. That all of these possibilities have happy endings.”

“That’s… nice.” Buck was trying to piece his words together. “It’s like, she won’t have to learn what being gay is, or that it’s okay, she’ll just always know. And if she is queer in some way, it would be way less confusing for her when she figures it out. Huh.”

“Exactly,” Maddie responded, reaching out to take his hands across the table. “Buck, I’m sorry I never gave that to you growing up. I’m sorry if it ever made you feel confused, or if you were ever scared to tell me things growing up. I should have made sure you knew I would have loved you no matter what.”

“What? Maddie -” That wasn’t what he was trying to say. “I always knew you loved me. That’s not it. Any of the confusion, it wasn’t your fault. It was a different time, books like that didn’t even exist.”

“I know, but still -”

“What I was trying to say,” he cut in, “was that it didn’t even occur to me that I should be talking to Jee about stuff like this. What if I've subconsciously been teaching her all of these outdated norms and ideas? As an ally, I should have already been thinking of this!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Maddie released his hands to hold them out in front of her for a moment, before bringing them back down onto the table. “First of all, she’s three. So no, you haven’t permanently instilled homophobia in her by accident.” Buck rolled his eyes at her oversimplification of what he was trying to say. “Secondly, ‘as an ally’? You’re still going with that?”

“I-” Buck hadn’t even realized he had said that, let alone that that would be what Maddie caught from his rambling. “I don’t know, I guess not. It doesn’t matter, does it? You knew what I meant.”

“I mean, it matters a little bit, doesn’t it?” She softened her voice. “If I’m pushing too much, just tell me and I’ll back off. But we haven’t really talked about this.”

And Buck knew that was true. He knew his declarations were about dating Tommy, knew he never really wanted to actually talk about himself, never really let anyone know how much self-discovery he was working on. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Because,” and she lowered her voice almost to a whisper, talking to Buck like she was scared he would bolt. “You’re bi, right? Or pan?”

“I guess,” Buck said with a breath. “Why do I have to call myself anything?”

“You don’t,” she said quickly, “I’m sorry if I pushed. Really, it's none of my business. Especially as a straight person. But calling yourself an ally probably isn’t the move, right?” She gave him the kind of knowing, sly smile that only a sibling could.

And just like that, the mood was already lightened. Buck let out a relieved laugh. “Yeah, it’s uh, becoming something of a bad habit.” He took another sip of his beer. “But thanks, by the way. No one else is going to push me, and I think I might need it.”

“Hey, it’s what allies and sisters are for.”

Buck was antsy as he sat in the back of the firetruck. His shift was scheduled to be over two hours ago, but the drunk driver that caused a ten-car pileup on the highway had made sure he would be late, and Buck was eager to get back to the station so that he could head to Tommy’s.

They were supposed to be attending a comedy show for date night, but Buck had texted a couple hours ago that he was unfortunately going to be very late, and to see if they could get a refund on the tickets. Tommy texted back not to worry, he understood how these things went, and that he’d be waiting at home with a bottle of wine

God, how did Buck ever get so lucky?

Once finally back at the station, Buck didn’t even bother to shower or even change out his uniform, instead grabbing his bag from his locker and practically sprinting to his Jeep, laser-focused on the shower he would have at Tommy’s and the person who would be joining him in it.

He forced himself not to break traffic laws to get himself there faster, and when he finally knocked on Tommy’s door he was nearly breathless with excitement. As he heard the door unlock, he forced his face into a more casual expression as the door opened. That expression was promptly abandoned when he saw Tommy smiling in front of him, and he matched the smile tenfold as Tommy took his hand and welcomed him inside.

Closing the door behind him, Buck took Tommy’s face in his hands and crowded him against the wall, pressing their lips together with a soft hum. “Rushed right over,” he whispered against his mouth.

Tommy broke apart for a moment, hand reaching up to play with the collar of Buck’s uniform. “I can tell,” he said with a sly smile.

For a moment Buck stilled, once again worried he would come across as over-eager, but then Tommy kissed him deeper, his hands dipping to hold his waist tightly, and Buck was again reminded how well Tommy responded to the eagerness.

They broke apart after a moment, and Buck could see Tommy’s eyes travel from his eyes downward, landing on a spot on Buck’s shirt.

“I like the pin,” Tommy said with a small laugh.

Mind still focused on the weight of Tommy’s body against his own, it took Buck a moment to realize what Tommy was referring to.

He was staring at the small Progress Pride Flag pinned to his shirtpocket.

“Oh!” Buck laughed. “The station got these, since it’s Pride month. I know it’s a little hokey, but I wanted to make sure everyone we help knows that they’re safe with us. That they’re safe with me. That I’m an ally.”

“Evan,” Tommy deadpanned, his body stiffening.

Buck blanked for a moment before realizing what he had said. “Shit, yeah. Um, you know what I mean.”

“I mean, I do and I don’t,” Tommy responded. He didn’t sound annoyed, so at least there was that. “I didn’t realize you were still calling yourself an ally.”

Buck pulled away, suddenly feeling exposed. He turned towards the bathroom, hoping a shower would put this conversation on pause until it could be forgotten.

But no, he didn’t really want to run from this. Not with Tommy. He turned back around. “No, I don’t… not really. I know I’m not, I know I’m not straight. I know that. I don’t know why it feels so weird to say what I actually am.”

“It’s still new,” Tommy reasoned.

“Exactly! And I’ve called myself an ally for so long, in my head that’s still where I’m categorized. Even though I know… I know the definitions. I think I know which one fits, it just doesn’t feel like… mine yet.” Tommy was studying him, and suddenly Buck worried this crisis was going to put him off. Tommy had been out for years at this point. He had no problem calling himself gay and seeing himself as part of the community. Buck knew this problem was immature, a sign that he was still so new to all of this, something most people figured out in their teens or twenties.

But instead, Tommy walked closer to him and took his hands. “Whatever label you’re thinking of, it’s yours if you want it. You’re a part of this community, Evan, no one can take that away from you.” He moved one of his hands to Buck’s face, cupping his cheek. “But if the labels feel stifling, you don’t need to pick one. Lots of people don’t use them. It doesn’t matter to me, just as long as you know that this is real.”

And God, somehow Tommy always knew how to reassure him. The spiral that he had been about to send himself on started to unwind, and Buck remembered why he was so excited to get over here. He closed the distance between them, capturing Tommy in a deep kiss, and his anxieties became lost to the moment, because oh, did he know how real this was.

Buck was nervous. He’d only attended Pride once before, back in 2019 when the 118 was selected to participate in the parade, and so his experience was limited to standing in the bed of the truck, wearing his uniform and a rainbow feather boa and waving at the passing crowds. Every other year, he volunteered to work so that the queer staff members could attend the festivities, like an ally should.

This year, however, he was attending for real.

As it turned out, Pride was a lot more than just the parade. There were street fairs, art markets, concerts, movie screenings, and so, so many parties. Tommy would be Buck’s guide through the crazy, and so they were enjoying the afternoon heat by walking through the block party, browsing through the many vendors.

Walking hand-in-hand with Tommy, Buck’s attention was drawn not to the vendors, but to the crowds of people around them. Buck was struck by the sheer number of vibrant personalities surrounding them, a wave of contentment washing over him. Los Angeles was a pretty liberal city, but he realized this was the first time in his life he’d seen this much open queer affection in his entire life. In the daytime, no less. It was so affirming that he almost became overwhelmed, but instead he squeezed Tommy’s hand, basking in the fact that he felt so comfortable doing that.

The next booth they approached caught Buck’s eye. It was a simple booth, stocked only with dozens of rolls of stickers. The person behind the counter, young and welcoming, smiled as they walked up.

“Hey,” they greeted. “Stickers are pay-anything, with the proceeds going towards homeless queer youth.” They gestured at the donation box on the counter.

“Sure, why not?” Tommy said, reaching into his wallet and grabbing two five dollar bills. “Pick which one you like, on me,” he winked.

Buck studied the options in front of him, realizing the booth was offering every queer-adjacent sticker that could ever exist.

There were the identity labels, ranging from ones he was familiar with to ones he would need to Google later. There were pronoun stickers. Flag stickers, many of which he didn’t recognize. Stickers announcing relationship status. Stickers with puns and references to queer media. Stickers that were downright dirty or announcing preferred sex acts. Stickers that Buck was pretty sure related to niche fetishes but was too nervous to ask about. And many more with generic Pride-related sayings and images.

Buck was pretty sure that every single person that walked up to this booth would be able to pick out at least one sticker that applied to them, if not many more.

Buck took his time looking at his options, but truthfully he knew which one had caught his eye. He’d known as soon as he saw what this booth was offering. He considered making a joke and picking the ‘Ally’ sticker, but he knew the joke would only feel funny for a moment before it felt stale and he felt uncomfortable wearing it. He considered picking a random rainbow, not technically a lie but still feeling like a cop-out, before hastily pointing to his choice before he could change his mind.

The volunteer cut the sticker and handed it to Buck, who studied it for a moment before peeling it off and sticking it onto his shirt, on the right side of his chest.

Buck took a deep breath and turned back to Tommy, eyeing the “PROUD AS FUCK” sticker newly adorning his tank top, and saw Tommy’s eyes move to read Buck’s sticker.

“I like it,” Tommy said simply.

Buck glanced down at the sticker, its pink, purple, and blue background with “BISEXUAL” written in white letters. “I like it too. Bisexual.” The word came out without hesitation, without deflecting or even stuttering on it. “Feels like me.”

And Buck took Tommy’s hand, pulled him back to continue walking down the street, and Buck kissed him right there in the crowd under the sun, truly knowing what it meant to feel free.

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