Tumgik
#but also I want to make depressed angst shit
katelynnwrites · 19 hours
Text
i can do it with a broken heart | laura freigang
Tumblr media
warnings: angst with no happy ending
word count: 831
summary: you're determined to fake it 'til you make it, even with a broken heart. also known as your the reader's perspective of down bad
a/n: the third installation of my 'the anthology' blurbs series
Tumblr media
you can feel laura’s gaze on you, from across the locker room.
a few short weeks ago, you would have blushed and teasingly told her that it’s rude to stare.
now, it makes your heart clench so you plaster a large smile on your face and turn to look at tanja, starting an intentionally cheerful conversation.
it is impossibly hard for you to ignore the blonde, especially when her eyes are on you again, this time in the club as you and your teammates celebrate the club’s win.
in stilettos, you have a drink in hand, a pretty sequined dress on and your makeup is done to perfection.
she’s sitting alone, at a table by the side of the bar and you can practically read her mind. you know her well enough for that.
‘she’s having the time of her life.’
well you can show her lies.
you can show up to trainings on time. you can attend every team bonding with a bright expression. you can do it all. even if it’s killing you inside.
because you’re a real tough kid. you can handle your shit.
after all they say you gotta fake it ‘til you make it. and you will.
so the one thing on your mind, repeating over and over as you push through each and every day is ‘lights, camera, bitch smile.’
even when you wanna die, you will do it.
your ex said she would love you all her life.
you believed her. you still do because you see the dark circles she has. she’s clearly devastated and barely holding herself together.
and you know it is all your fault for breaking up with her.
but you had to. had to because you love her so much. you trust her excessively and before you fall any harder for her, you needed to stop yourself.
it would have hurt too much when you landed and you know that if you allowed laura to love you the way she wanted any longer, there would be no coming back from that kind of pain.
so for your own sake, you had to leave her. even though it gives you overwhelming guilt to break her heart.
but you can grin like you’re winning and you can hit all your marks.
you’re playing better than ever because you know you are good. you know you’re good because you can do it, even with a broken heart.
you cry a lot now that you have left the striker but you are still so productive that one could consider it an art.
really, it’s only through the extensive uses of subtle makeup, face masks, cooling eye packs and the odd frozen metal teaspoon that no one has noticed it yet.
most of your relationship with laura was spent staying over in her apartment but there were nights that were spent in yours.
more than a few if the way you keep finding her things in your drawers is anything to go by.
first it was a old penn state sweatshirt. the next, one of her retro frankfurt jerseys.
now it’s her favourite pair of jeans.
you choke on your tears when you find it among your own clothes.
she’d worn them to your first date.
laura might keep looking at you but she avoids you like the plague otherwise. she doesn’t want to walk near your cubby in the locker room or be in the same training group as you.
she must hate you and you can’t blame her.
it is part of the reason why you cannot bear to return any of her things to her. they are the last tangible memories you have left of her, crucial evidence that for a brief time, you had the love of your life.
you feel like you’re drowning in your grief now but you can hold your breath.
because you’re a real tough kid. you can handle your shit. there is no reason to drag the german woman back into it, if she would even deign to give you the time of day.
so breaking down, you’ll hit the floor. all the pieces of you shattering as the fans chant, ‘more!’.
you might be depressed and you might be struggling but you will be damned if you’re not doing your best.
you will show up at trainings and team bondings on time, with a happy grin fixed on your face. you will only post the most positive and staged content on your social medias and you will not let any of your teammates or most importantly laura herself, see just how not okay you are.
‘lights, camera, bitch smile.’ you think once again.
even when you wanna die, you’re doing good. you know you’re good because you’re miserable and nobody even knows.
you swore that you would fake it ‘til you make it and you’re doing it.
it’s your new job and you are not going to let anyone try to come for it.
47 notes · View notes
schiste-argileux · 2 years
Text
miku hatsune, legend of Zelda, and transformers duking it out in my brain in the arena to see who gets to occupy my free time
10 notes · View notes
godblooded · 1 year
Text
i just gotta say peoples' obsessions with writing toxic relationships just concerns the shit outta me on this hellsite.
#ooc. your local bodega kat.#[everyone: i love complex relationships! what everyone means: couples fighting is normal! so if they're horrendous to each other#sometimes it's normal!!#couples fight like... of course. it's unhealthy NOT to fight. but there's a level where it's....uhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH and some of what's said#or done that people condone on here is wild. if i had a nickel for every time i saw someone say their character was a wonderful spouse and#then display like 10 reasons why they're covertly emotionally or verbally abusive. the rpc has such a tendency to refer to dv in one#specific term when it comes to ic ships and it's always physical but everything else is 'complex' and man that's worrying. see also: why#i was taught in grad school never to teach streetcar with marlon brando because students excuse him immediately due to his looks and his#bullshit angst. it's alarming as fuck. coming from parents who were sometimes physically abusive (to me and each other) like... this also#needs to be recognized in self-critical media. there's so much shit that needs evaluating. and it's not like i've never written a toxic#ship. i wrote the fucking WORST on at one point because i was too chickenshit to get alana out of it. and it ended in her being DESTROYED.#you know. like those kind of relationships tend to end in. like. my ex-father beat the fuck out of a dude in a bar who hit on my mom and#then when he found out the guy died a day later it was military or jail and he went military. and then my mom took him BACK. this is REAL#LIFE SHIT. writing it is virtually incredibly depressing and writing it without making clear it's fucked up is worse. whether you've been#through it or not. in that case: why even. shit hurts enough when you go through it. why would you want to vicariously go through it#being a fake person if there was no way to turn the outcome through healing and positive growth. sorry for being an optimist basically.]#domestic violence mention /#domestic abuse mention /#abuse mention /#murder mention /#[i'm just thinking back on the most toxic fucking verse i ever had and how glad i am said person and i no longer speak.]
20 notes · View notes
a-aexotic · 1 year
Note
HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!
Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)
And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣
Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x
hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes
cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything
Tumblr media
You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.
When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.
During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.
But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.
When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.
You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.
You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.
Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.
He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.
He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.
He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.
He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.
During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.
Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.
The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.
You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.
You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.
Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.
You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.
When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.
--
When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."
The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."
Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.
You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.
The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.
As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.
You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.
Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.
"I have a plan."
"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."
Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."
You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."
Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.
"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."
--
It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.
You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.
Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.
You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?
You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.
You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?
"Hello, Y/N."
You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.
He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."
You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.
"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."
You shook your head. "No."
He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"
"No." You said again, louder.
He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."
He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.
If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.
They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.
"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."
You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.
"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"
Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.
Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.
You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.
It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.
You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.
But you knew that was just the beginning.
--
You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.
"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.
A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.
"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."
You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.
He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.
As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.
That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."
You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.
--
There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.
"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.
"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.
"Are you.. Are you really here?"
"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.
His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."
You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.
Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.
Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.
You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.
When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.
You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.
"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."
6K notes · View notes
Note
HII, saw your post on wanting asks, well here 🫶 I love talking so, and specifically on playboy yandere!! I'm a sucker for angst and yanderes falling into insanity honestly, so let me ramble a bit
- imagine if reader graduates highschool and gets an overseas scholarships!! They also convince their family to move together with them so Kameron can't hurt or use them to blackmail reader. So with only a break up text saying like "bye manwhore 😍😍", blocking and deleting all their social media, I wonder how long and how far would he take to get reader back again? Would he inherit his parent's riches, hire some private investigatiors to find reader and find the country they're living in, expand his business over to their country in order to gain power to trap his darling. And I wonder how deranged his reaction would be to reader's text and be like no way, they're joking right, and runs to their house and whatever usual spots they're at normally, and just break down into insanity. would he try to use substitutes for reader to maintain his sanity or go fully devoid of emotions and start working hard to gain power and influence to find reader again!! I'm also curious how he would process his darling leaving him, would he become delusional first, saying they got kidnapped or something, or some ex or fling of his hurt reader, and then proceed to anger, depression, grief and then finally accept the reality!!
Ok that's a lot of rambling 😭😭 hope it's okay. I rlly enjoyed that fic, was rent FREE in my mind for a whole day
you know luci, you just gave me an idea. So have a part TWO of THIS DUMBASS HOE 🤝
Yandere playboy x reader
Tw: mentions of murder, kameron being delulu, yandere and obsessive behavior
Tumblr media
💋kameron was having another breakdown. Sobbing pathetically on the floor of your old bedroom. Just how did you run away? And on such short notice too!? Didn't his love mean anything to you!? WHY DID YOU ABANDON HIM?
💋a million thoughts swirled through his head, until he finally got one that just... stuck. He had to get you back. No matter how long it takes. Getting up and dusting himself off, he kicked the front door open and quickly left the empty house
💋it was a shame really. The once sane and popular boy was struggling to keep his image. So he got help. Not professional as in therapists and medication. Just hiring other students to cover for him Incase he slipped up. all while snooping through the head teachers computer to see if they had any notes on where you might have gone. He almost got caught a few times
"shit that was close.. i can't believe these idiots leave their passwords just anywhere"
💋he knew he shouldn't be back at the school, especially since he graduated but he needs all the information he can get. Eventually moving onto private investigators and online stalking through multiple other accounts. He'd try anything just to see what his darling was doing without him. Were you enjoying making him suffer? You're so cruel..
💋hiring other people to befriend you and lower your guard, gathering any Information they can
💋 kameron who spent a while convincing his parents to let him take hold of the company. He had a degree, a bright mind, responsibility. He's perfect for the job! Oh if only they knew where his 60% was going.. funding multiple businesses across the world in exchange for keeping a careful eye. Making him quite the celebrity
💋look darling! He's on the news-! ...oh right you're not here.. one evening, while working in his office, a new secretary comes in to introduce themselves. They look just like you! He could only stare in shock.
"my love..? Is that you!?"
"..who?"
💋turns out it was just a doppelganger. But with enough time he'd delude himself into thinking it was you. Courting them with the same flowers, chocolates and jewelry he'd given you. It worked like a charm! Now you were back In their arms again. They felt whole..
💋he married your lookalike a year later, the poor fool being too naive and oblivious to think. He was happy for awhile.. or until one of his P.I's came in to show him they found you. His reality started to break.
💋no.. how could he do this to you. Replacing you with some cheap street whore. That night, when they went to bed, he gave them a cup of water and smiled sweetly. Watching as their face went red and they started to cough for air after gulping it down. Clawing at the sheets and staring at him with wide fearful eyes. Begging him to help them
"...slut."
💋 burrying the body in his backyard, he paid people with underground connections to cover for him while he was away. Claiming they suddenly vanished, having run away with a small fortune. How idiotic are people, to actually believe him..
💋kameron disguised himself and went straight for the country you decided to flee too. 5 years apart from you.. he had no idea how he managed to live so long without his beloved, but it was all worth it. Because now you'll be back where you belong. In his arms.
💋you were busy working at your job, running a small business was no joke but atleast the people in the area were friendly. So you didn't notice the suited figure Infront of your cash register
"thank you, please come again-"
💋you froze, looking up at the terrifyingly familiar face. He stared back at you with only glee and love
"hello my darling~ you've been on a naughty streak for a while Haven't you? That's okay, I'll just set you straight when we go back home."
💋big burly men all blocked you from escaping by guarding the doors. Dragging all the other customers out so you both could have your moment. Now you could never leaver leave him. Ever.
659 notes · View notes
chuuyascumsock · 6 months
Text
I am NOT a Sadist (I am) || Minors DNI
Summary; Sorry, not sorry. I love when there’s hurt feelings with emotional make-up sex :)
Tags; Chuuya Nakahara/Reader, Afab reader, Angst, Mentions Of Depression, Hurt/Comfort, I Totally Projected My Poor Communication Skills Onto The MC, Also Self Sabotaging, But She Gets Better I Swear, I Project A Lot Actually Lmao, Sounds Kind Of Like An Unhealthy Relationship At First But They Fix It, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, They Do Hurt Each Other’s Feelings A Little, Obviously There’s Crying, Pet Names (Baby, Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet Girl, etc.), Mention Of Phone Sex, Handjob, Fingering, Emotional Sex, Make-Up Sex, Creampie, Lowkey Breeding Kink If You Squint, Actually Pretty Vanilla For Once, Pussy Is Chuuya’s Therapy, Classic Missionary, Missionary Accomplished, Why Does No One Talk About Chuuya Going On His Overseas Trips And Leaving His S/O For Months At A Time, I Feel Like It’s Such A Good Angst Idea, My Longest Oneshot Yet Btw At A 5k Wordcount.
Tumblr media
The honeymoon phase of your relationship with Chuuya ended quicker than you had anticipated. It felt like a slap in the face in all honesty, unexpecting of what you were really getting into as a normal civilian. Being married to an executive of the port mafia had its many upsides, yet no one really seemed to talk about the downsides and struggles of the mental toll that weighed on your conscience that came with the title as Chuuya’s wife. 
Chuuya had always been there when you needed him, and you were grateful that even with his rough exterior and conflict with opening up emotionally he could empathize with your varying issues and emotional outbursts. You tried not to be emotionally high maintenance for the sake of Chuuya already having so much on his plate, and things had seemed to be going well for the time being. 
Until he went away for his first overseas trip during your marriage. 
It was normal for Chuuya to take overseas trips while you were dating, some lasting a few days to a few weeks at most and during those times you often texted him throughout the day about how much you missed him before calling later on when he was lying exhausted in a hotel room to talk about how both of your days had gone. Of course, it had often led to phone sex, ending with the camera angled against a pillow while your fingers worked in and out of your neglected, needy pussy– your face buried into his pillow and smothering your senses with what was left of his presence in your apartment. And Chuuya would stroke his throbbing length at the sight with languid motions, thumb swiping over his leaking tip as he murmured through the speaker about how he wished he could be there to feel you split open on his cock and fill you up with his cum. And every time he came back from his trips, your relationship seemingly grew stronger from the distance, spending all his free time with you whenever he got the chance. 
And then Mori sent him away on a half year mission to Europe and everything seemed to go to shit. 
It was different when you had been dating as it was for a few days to some weeks at most, but a six-month excursion made your throat clench and your heart ache with saudade. You tried to keep a positive mindset, yet it was harder as each day had passed and Chuuya grew too tired from the days’ events to even call anymore. Messages on his side grew shorter and dull by the end of the third month, only sending a small good morning and good night text with the occasional ‘I love you’.  
Instead of bringing it up or attempting to fix it, you felt a sense of hopelessness and withdrew from him as well, not wanting to burden him with your spamming messages or feelings that could hinder him while dealing with an important mission. You spent the next three months stewing in a depressive state, loneliness eating away at you as you went day to day going to your job and coming back to an empty apartment. You stopped going out with your friends, stopped bothering to take care of yourself– completely ruining your sleeping and eating schedule in the process– leaving you with dark bags under your eyes and slightly paler looking complexion. You had grown so comfortable in Chuuya’s love and had no idea how to handle the situation you were in, fearing of saying something that would upset him. 
When Chuuya had come back, he hadn’t noticed the change in your behavior– too tired himself to see the toll his absence had taken on you. But to you, your straining relationship was apparent, and it only fueled your depression as Chuuya spent less time with you when he got back home than he used to when you were dating. He was either working on other missions given by Mori within the area or spent his free time sleeping. You barely felt as if you were married anymore, your relationship seeming more like roommates who rarely ever interacted every passing day.  
Your deteriorating mental health was beginning to wear your mind and patience thin, leading to a series of outbursts and fights between the two of you. You’d snap at him with an antagonizing start, and he’d finish with a frustrating end, either leaving to cool off or going to sleep on the couch. You could tell it was getting to him because he confronted you one day after he had mentioned that Mori was thinking about sending him on another grueling months-long overseas mission in America and you gave him the cold shoulder, closing yourself off from him. 
“What the hell has been your problem lately, huh? You’ve been acting shitty for the last few weeks and it’s really starting to get on my nerves,” He gripes, crossing his arms over his chest defensively as he leans against the kitchen counter. 
“I don’t have a problem, you’re the one starting things,” You tiredly glare at the words in your novel, wanting to read and forget everything falling apart around you, but it’s hard when Chuuya persists.  
Chuuya scoffs, “Bullshit, you have this nasty attitude and it's been bothering the hell out of me– so what the hell is your problem?” He repeats, his eyes burning holes into the side of your apathetic expression from across the room.  
“Good thing you won’t have to deal with it for long, huh?” You respond flatly, avoiding his question once again. You and Chuuya have always had an issue with things like this due to him being blunt when he was upset about something while you tended to dance around it and drawl the problem on longer than it had to be than if you were to talk about your problems from the start. 
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” His jaw sets, teeth clenching behind his scowl, “You know it annoys the hell out of me when you say cryptic shit like that— answer my question.” Chuuya’s temper was something no one enjoyed testing and you once feared setting him off, but now you couldn’t find it in you to care whether he blew up on you or not. 
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your next mission?” You’re metaphorically poking more than just a bear at this point; this is an entire fucking lion you’re sticking your hand into the mouth of– waiting for it to rip you apart. 
Chuuya’s steps are heavy as he approaches you with a stern glare, “I’m not leaving until you tell me, I’m tired of these games, [name].”  
His words make you snort bitterly as you mock, “Yeah, okay– like you’re not just Mori’s lapdog– at his every beck and call.” You know he’d leave the minute Mori sent a text or called asking where he was. 
Chuuya’s face contorts in mild surprise and slight hurt at your words, not expecting you to stoop so low as to refer to him as a lapdog for Mori. “I really don’t know why the fuck you’re acting like this, but it’s seriously pissin’ me off. Can you just tell me what I supposedly did wrong to make you treat me like this? Because last time I checked, I didn’t fuckin’ do anything,” His statement was ironic in the sense that him not doing anything was the problem.  
Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale in spiteful amusement, though nothing was amusing about it, because you knew you were going to regret everything you said after the fight was over.  
“Of course, you didn’t,” There’s clear sarcasm in your tone, your hands now messing with the pages of your novel mindlessly. 
“Why won’t you just talk to me!? I can’t read your mind– how can I fix a problem when you won’t tell me what I did wrong?” He starts to raise his voice in frustration. You can see his fists clenching from the corners of your eyes. 
You only remove yourself further emotionally by shutting down completely. It was common for you to go completely non-verbal in any argument, the stress of the conflict physically affecting you in ways that kept you from speaking– like your throat tightening and tongue growing heavy in your mouth. This was another issue between you and Chuuya as he was the type to raise his voice whilst arguing to make himself and his feelings known, the complete opposite of yourself. 
An inkling of doubt buries in your chest as you begin to think that maybe you’re not as compatible with Chuuya as you thought you were. 
Chuuya notices your silence and he feels his impatience growing, his foot starting to tap against the floor with agitation as his hands fall to rest on his hips, “God dammit, [name], can you just tell me? I’m not in the mood to play detective and try to figure out why you’re playing your fucking games, I have shit to do.” 
You find it in you to respond, though it’s weak and filled with animosity, “You always have shit to do.” 
An exasperated sigh leaves Chuuya as he stands in front of you, “Is that what this is about? Because I have work? A job? Believe it or not, the mafia isn’t as lenient as to give me a day off, sweetheart,” He says sarcastically, throwing his hands up for emphasis. “Sorry that I have to serve an organization that will literally have my head if god forbid, I even thought about leaving!” 
“You don’t even spend time with me anymore when you do have time off,” You rasp, your eyes set on the crumbling pages underneath your fingertips. 
“I’m exhausted because I’m constantly working my ass off! Sorry that I can’t do fuck whatever and whenever like you can! Unlike you, I actually work for the things I want instead of sitting around and waiting for it to just fall into my lap!” Your brows furrow at his words, knowing it’s utter bullshit. But it still gets under your skin. 
You could easily quit your job and live off of the makings of what Chuuya has— he’s even offered the idea before— but you wanted to keep a sense of independence and to continue to be productive instead of a burden that burns cash. Your conclusion is that it was to get back at your lapdog comment. 
“And you know what? You have nothing to fuckin’ complain about because you get everything you want. Are you just bored? Is that why you’re starting shit? Or is it those friends of yours filling your head with bullshit?” He leans over to your eye level, his hands resting above his knees for support with a firm stare into the side of your face as you refuse to make eye contact with him. 
You were over this. All of it. You were tired of the tension, the fighting, feeling the way you were.  
Which led the next words to slip out from your mouth without a second thought, “I want a break.” 
Chuuya’s scowl quickly shifted to a look of pure bewilderment, to immense hurt and slight panic, then to anger, “A break? You can’t just take a break whenever something doesn’t go your way, that’s not how this works.” 
“I don’t care, I want a break,” It’s getting difficult to talk again as you feel your eyes begin to water. 
“Look me in the eyes and tell me that,” He demands, almost hesitantly. 
It takes minutes for you to finally look into his piercing gray eyes without crying and repeat your words, “I want a break.” 
His body straightens and he brings a hand to rub at his eyes, his other hand on his hip. He seems disappointed and a whole lot of other emotions, but mostly frustrated at this whole ordeal. There’s a deafening silence before he drags his hand down his face and lets it fall to his side, “You want a break? Fine, I’ll tell Mori I’m going on the mission then and be gone by tomorrow morning— you’ll get your break.” He then storms off to finish getting ready for work, leaving you to sit alone on the couch, regretting everything that just happened. 
And even when you still have the chance to stop him from walking out the door and just talk to him, you don’t. Instead, you stare down at the ring on your finger numbly, listening to his heavy footfalls as they move towards the front door and then the slamming that follows when he leaves. 
You soon break down crying after, feeling as if you’ve lost everything. You know you could easily fix it with a simple text of wanting to talk things out, but the self-sabotaging nature in you refused to move a muscle. You cry for hours until your body grows exhausted, and you fall asleep on the couch in a tangled mess of some throw blankets and decorative pillows. 
Hours later, Chuuya enters your shared apartment quietly, taking his hat off as he runs a hand through his hair. He’s tired just as much as you are with how things are going in your relationship, and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s lost and trying so desperately to figure out how to fix it, but he can’t when you won’t tell him what the problem is. He knows you struggle deep down with telling others about how you feel, and it makes him feel hopeless at times when you won’t even tell him how you feel. 
His eyes trail over the living room before they fall on you and the blankets your body is buried under, your sleeping face peeking through. Chuuya takes light steps over to the couch before crouching in front of you and taking off one of his gloves, his hand slowly reaching out to move a few baby hairs away from your face. His eyes soften when he rubs away the tear stains on your cheeks with his thumb.  
There’s a small ache in his chest from the events and words exchanged earlier, feeling a growing tightness in his throat. He didn’t mean it when he said those things and he knows you didn’t mean what you said. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt any less.  
He begins to feel guilt weighing on his consciousness. He replays all your expressions and words in his mind and starts to think about your reaction to the whole reason the fight started in the first place. It takes a few moments of him silently sitting next to the couch and caressing your face mindlessly until he finally realizes what’s been wrong the whole time. 
When you wake up hours later, you’re no longer on the couch, but placed comfortably in your bed. You rub the crust from your eyes and feel a heavy weight in your chest like a bag of stones when the spot next to you is void of Chuuya. ‘He actually left,’ You thought, but you knew you had no one to blame but yourself— even if you had hoped that he would stay. Now fully awake, you slip out of bed sluggishly and shuffle out your bedroom. 
A faint voice from the living room catches your attention and you notice that it’s the TV. There’s a small spark of hope that flickers in your stomach as you slowly creep into the living room. Relief settles in your heart to see the back of Chuuya’s head peeking from the couch. You make your way around the couch timidly until you’re in Chuuya’s sights. He stares tiredly at the TV before he sees you move into his view from the corner of his eye and looks over to you. 
“I… thought you were going to go on the mission…” You whisper, anxiously twisting and fidgeting with the end of your oversized shirt that slightly hangs off your shoulders. 
“I had Mori get someone else to do it,” Chuuya responds quietly, his eyes traveling your figure from top to bottom before propping an arm on the backrest of the couch as a silent invitation for you to sit next to him. 
As soon as you sit next to him, his arm shifts until his callous hand rests on the nape of your neck, rubbing at your skin in a soothing manner. He pulls you into his side after a few moments and turns his face slightly to press a soft kiss against your hairline.  
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” He starts off, sincere in each word as he continues, “Why didn’t you say anything?” It sounds almost rhetorical because you know he knows why on a surface level, but he doesn’t know why.  
You’re silent for a bit before hesitantly answering, “I didn’t want to stress you out by making you feel like you had to constantly tend to me.” 
“You’re my wife, not a burden. No matter how stressed out I am, I don’t want you to ever think that you can’t come to me with your feelings or just to bother me. I know I was gone for a long time, and I shouldn’t’ve become as distant as I had, but–” He sighs out in exasperation, “–Baby, you’ve gotta communicate with me. I don’t wanna fight like this and worry about our marriage. I want us to work out– I need us to work out because…” Chuuya trails off before moving his body to turn towards you and tilt your chin up with his other hand to look you in the eyes. 
“I need you, [name]. You’re my person. Okay?”  
Your chest throbs and aches at his words as his slate gray eyes flicker over your face and then meet your now watering eyes, “You’re my person too, Chuuya. I’m sorry…” You croak out through quivering lips and break down into tears, leaning forward to bury your face into his chest. “M’sorry– didn’t mean anything I said last night– won’t do it again,” You stumble over your words through muffled sobs.  
Chuuya moves his hand from your chin to hold the back of your head, pressing you into his chest as he kisses the top of your head, “I know you didn’t, sweetheart. I didn’t mean what I said either. You know I love you, right?” 
You nod, your small sobs and hiccups muted by his loose tank top as you hug your arms around his torso to pull him to you as close as possible, “I love you too…” 
He pulls you back reluctantly from your embrace and cups your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, “I promise that I’ll make an effort to be a better husband, I don’t want you to feel like that ever again. I shouldn’t have neglected you like that and made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. That’s the last thing that I want.” 
“I’m gonna do better too, promise,” You sniffle, trying to hold back from anymore tears falling down your face, “Wanna be better for you.” 
“I wanna be better for you too, doll,” He murmurs before his face grows closer to yours to place a soft, innocent kiss against your lips. 
Your hands come to clasp over his own that cup your face and your eyes lull into his fond gaze, “I missed you,” You whisper with longing. 
“I missed you too, baby. It killed me not being able to wake up next to you every morning n’see your pretty face,” He exhales gently, kissing you again. 
Your heart stutters at his words and you reciprocate the kiss, refusing to pull away as quickly as before. When your lashes flutter open, you lean your face into his touch, “I need you, Chuuya,” And it’s clear to him that it wasn’t meant in just an innocent manner.  
“Yeah? Missed me that much, sweet girl?” His nose nudges against yours affectionately before capturing your lips into a sensual kiss. Feeling his lips smother against yours and the ring on his finger to remind you of his undying love and devotion to you only encourages the simmering heat in your chest and lower stomach. And when he mumbles a muffled, “C’mere,” against your lips, you’re quick to climb into his lap and thread a hand into his ginger hair. He hums in amusement at your eagerness and moves his lips to trail pecks along your jaw and down your throat, “Always were so needy f’me and I fuckin’ love it– love everything about you, doll.” He groans under his breath, hands heavily groping at any part of your plush body to keep you against him. 
“Only for you, it’s always been you,” You breathe out with a shaky exhale and Chuuya is unable to hide the small whimper that escapes the back of his throat. 
“Fuck, it’s always been you too, doll. I love you so much it hurts,” He pulls you back down into a desperate and hungry open-mouthed kiss, his tongue seeking out until his muscle is entangling with yours.  
Your face flushes with warmth as you mold your lips against his feverishly, head tilting to deepen the kiss until you’re both panting for air into each other’s mouths, “Please…” You plead, squirming in his lap. 
“I know, babydoll, I feel it too,” Chuuya groans quietly, feeling your thinly clothed pussy skim over the bulge in his gym shorts. “Wanna take this slow though, need to feel all of you, okay?” His hands cup the bottom of your thighs as he moves off the couch to stand up, your lips not parting for even a second as he makes his way to your bedroom and over to the bed. When his shins bump against the bottom frame of the bed, he leans over to lay you down on the mattress gently, lips leaving yours to move back down the expanse of your neck. You shiver, fingers messily tangling into his locks of hair whilst your other hand finds its way in between your bodies to run your hand over his erection. “F-Fuck,” Chuuya breathes out against the skin of your throat, hips jerking forward into your touch. “God, it’s been so long, I almost came,” He admits with embarrassment before latching onto a small patch of your skin to suckle at, pressing kisses to the spot occasionally. 
“Baby, please— wanna touch you so bad,” Was all you had to whine before he slips his baggy gym shorts off to reveal his stiff, throbbing cock. Your hand wraps around him, thumb pressing to his leaking slit to swipe at the precum dribbling out to spread it along his length with a few pumps of your hand. There’s a quiet “schlick” each time your wrist flicks to draw your hand back up to his angry mushroom tip before moving back down to the base of his shaft. 
Chuuya is unashamed when he lets out airy moans against your neck that’s now littered with his love marks, “Shit, you’re s’fuckin’ good, baby— just like that.” His right hand finds its way under your large shirt to grab at your underwear and pull at it until it tears off you. 
“Chuuya,” You whine in complaint, watching him toss the now torn fabric onto the floor, “I liked those.” 
“S’okay, I’ll get you more, sweetheart, promise,” His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he slips his middle and ring finger through your folds to spread your glistening sex open. “Look at how fucking wet you are, you like jerkin’ me off that much, pretty girl?” He groans, eyes glued to your hole clenching around nothing. 
You bury your face into the crook of his neck timidly as your hand pumping around his cock falters slightly from the way he talks, “C-Chuuya…” 
Chuuya chuckles before softly moaning into the side of your head, face nuzzling affectionately into your hair, “C’mon, doll, don’t be shy, look at how your sweet little cunt takes my fingers.” 
Flustered, you peek from his neck to watch his digits dip into your arousal, dragging them up to circle over your clit a few times and then slipping down to sink into your pulsing walls. Whilst his fingers weren’t considered long, they have you twitching from pleasure with how thick they are. “Feels good,” You slur out as your hand squeezes around the base of his cock. 
“Yeah? You love it when I stretch this pussy out with my fat fingers, huh?” He sucks in a short breath as he tries not to come right then and there in your hand as he fingers his digits in and out of your squelching pussy. “My sweet girl likes having her hole stuffed by her husband, hm,” His fingers work faster in and out of your cunt as he angles his thumb to draw rough circles into your needy clit.  
Your grip and stroking around his length only continues to falter as your thighs spasm softly, “M’gonna come— fuck— Chuu, noo, no, no…” You squirm, your other hand tugs his hair. 
“What’s wrong, doll?” Chuuya’s fingers slow to a stop, causing you to whimper from the ebbing buildup of your orgasm. He’s the same as you when he feels your hand come to a stop around his shaft. 
“Wanna come on your cock,” You mumble into him, “Want you to fill me up with your cum.” 
Chuuya feels his heart thrum in his throat wildly as he hears you speak before making quick work of your shirt and his tank top until you're both as bare as you were when you were brought into the world. “Yeah? Need me to fill your cute pussy up until my cum is spilling outta ya?” He hovers over you between your spread thighs as he hooks your legs over his hips.  
“Just wanna feel you close to me,” You admit with a sweet and quiet voice, your legs drawing him in until his throbbing cock is rubbing between your pussy lips with his tip nudging at your puffy clit. 
His eyes widen barely before softening, his movements becoming less erratic and eager as he leans down to place a gentle kiss against your lips. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, doll, m’gonna take care of ya like I always do.” He whispers, his right hand moving to guide the tip of his cock against the entrance of your core. Much like his fingers, his thick length bullies into your warm pussy slowly, stretching and splitting you open on his cock. “Fuuuuck, baby, you take me so well. Can’t get enough of seeing you stretch open on me.” 
Your legs tighten around him as you feel his hips press against yours until his balls are flush with your ass, “You’re s’big— it hurts every time, but it hurts good,” A small whimper leaves you as your hands grip at the bedsheets. 
When Chuuya pulls away, he watches his cock twitch from the loss of warmth your tight hole provided before seeing it stretch you back open to fill you. “God, I’ll never get over you,” He hisses through his teeth, pistoning his cock in and out of you at an agonizing pace, “Your pussy was made for me.” 
Chuuya’s gaze isn’t on where your bodies connect for long before he’s back to hovering over you, pinning your hands above your head. They’re placed palm up on top of one another before being locked in place with his left hand interlocking your fingers. The action makes your heart tighten with affection as well as your fingers when you squeeze his hand. The subtle noise of metal clinking from your wedding bands only makes your heart swell with pure unadulterated love for him further. Your eyes start to water again from the overwhelming emotions and love you feel for him. 
He squeezes your hand back in comfort, eyes studying your teary face, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that, doll?” He says out of nowhere, “M’so lucky to have you.” 
You clench around him as you stare back through blurry eyes back into his focused ones, moaning from the way his tip kisses at your g-spot with each thrust. “Mm— Lucky to have you too— you’re so good to me, Chuu,” You mewl out, feeling your stomach twist and coil with intensity.  
“Want you to come for me, please, baby— wanna make you come,” Chuuya’s words grow more pitchy and airier as he reaches his right hand down to rub at your throbbing clit with vigor. 
“A-Ah, fuck—“ Your body arches, hips erratically bucking into his, “C-Coming..! Shit, s’too much.” You sob, tears slipping down your temples and into the mattress. Your cries are soon silenced by Chuuya’s lips swallowing your noises in a passionate, yet sloppy kiss. You muffle incoherently against his lips, but he knows it’s a repeated line of I love you’s as your nails dig into the back of his hand and you cream around his length.  
As your walls spasm around his twitching cock, a guttural groan leaves his throat and he spills his hot, viscous cum deep into your starving pussy until it’s leaking out of your tight hole and down his balls. “Atta girl…” He murmurs through pants, kissing your sweaty forehead lovingly. 
“I love you,” You repeat gently one last time as you both relish in the softness of your afterglow. 
“I love you too,” Chuuya sighs with a ghost of a smile on his face as he admires you underneath him, hand coming down from your hands to wipe away your stray tears, “Promise me you won’t go anywhere, doll? Cause I’ve still got years of loving you left to go.” 
869 notes · View notes
iluvfinnmertens · 3 months
Note
Could you do a headcanon with Lucifer,seeing an old friends of his (when he was in Heaven and a angel) fluff or angst your choice :D
You can ignore this if you want !
જ⁀➴ Lucifer Morningstar x fallen angel! male reader ๋࣭ ⭑
you were lucifers friend back when he was angel but you recently became fallen and he finds you <;33
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
Tumblr media
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Details: ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
๋࣭ ⭑ Request: requested :D
๋࣭ ⭑ Pairing: Lucifer x fallen angel! male reader
๋࣭ ⭑ TW: injuries, mentions of blood (minor)
๋࣭ ⭑ Word Count: 728
๋࣭ ⭑ Timeline: after episode 6
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
Headcannons!!!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● If you were one of the more higher up angels and you were present during the court meeting with Charlie you would definitely start to question things. Especially after how Adam and Lute treated Charlie.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● I would assume you were unaware of the extermination as most angels were and like Emily you would feel terrible for the fact you were killing innocent souls.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● Though unlike Emily you were more unlucky and ended up falling due to questioning too much.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● Once you were in hell I assume you would be mortified, as heaven's tales of hell always described it in a very vile way.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● You were very lucky that Lucifer found you as most demons don't take kindly to angels since they ya know murder them.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● I feel like it's been so long that Lucifer would forget who you were and you would be like “Lucifer it's me!!” and he would just be like “Uhhhh… who?”
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● Lucifer would definitely feel bad for you as he knows how much it hurts the heart to become fallen. But I feel like once he recognizes you he would feel even worse.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● You would probably tell him what happened during the meeting and he would most likely be pissed. Not just for you but for Charlie too.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● Would let you stay at his castle with him and would treat you like royalty :D you were his best bud after all.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● If you got along with Charlie he would be so happy like his two favorite people like each other!! Yippee!
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ ● He would definitely make you gifts to try to help lift your spirits. Bro would try anything to make sure you don't end up depressed like him lol.
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
You lay on the ground, your head pounded and everything hurt including your wings. Hell you may have even broken one. You could hear the sounds of what sounded like a city but you could also hear screams and you didn't want to know what kind of screams they were. You opened your eyes finally to be met with a red sky, you were clearly in an alleyway. You sat up and groaned in pain as you looked at your wing, yup definitely broken. You leaned against the wall and tried to control your breathing. It all happened so fast one second you were talking to Emily and Sera and the next you were falling. You didn't want to admit it but you were terrified. You could feel tears slowly start to stream down your face as you felt your head get foggy. Were you bleeding? You looked down to notice a pile of golden blood underneath you, shit. Before you knew it everything went black. 
You eventually woke up from the pain in your head coming back but it was less painful than before. You opened your eyes and noticed the very big scenery change. You now seemed to be in a bedroom, it was mainly made up of white, red and gold. Your wounds were all patched and your wing was just... completely healed? You looked around tying to figure out who the fucks house you were in when you noticed a rubber duck on the bedside table. You picked it up and squeezed it only for it to spit fire. You immediately drop it out of surprise and it falls on the floor. You go to the edge of the bed to peer down at it when the sound of a portal comes from the front of the room. You sit up quickly and look at the area where the sound came from to find a short blonde haired man. He had on a white top hat on with a snake and apple decorating it, a red and white suit and a cane with an apple at the end. You felt like you recognized him but you couldn't tell until he spoke.
“Well hello! I found you passed out in an alley, I assume from the golden blood you aren't from around here, are ya?” That voice... oh my god it's Lucifer.
“Luci?” You asked very confused on how the fuck he found you out of all people.
“The one and only!” He smiles pridefully, clearly not recognizing you despite being your best friend before he had fallen.
“Luci, it's me!!” You say quickly hoping to jog his memory but he just looks at you with a puzzled expression. 
“Uh who?” He asks slowly, not understanding how he's supposed to know you.
“It's me, (name)!” You say with a smile hoping at least this will help him remember. He then puts a finger to his chin and seems to think for a while before shaking his head.
“Sorry but I have no clue who you are– anyways young angel you clearly have fallen, and things might seem scary but I'm sure you'll be okay! Now how exactly did this happen?” He says waving around his finger gesturing to you. You sigh clearly saddened by the fact he forgot you. but hey what can you do?
You then explained everything that led up to the fall including the court meeting with Charlie. Just by the look on his face you can tell he's pissed.
“I knew those asshats would treat her like that! I should have never made that meeting..” He grumbles to himself as you just sit there staring not sure what to say. “Well I guess until we figure something out you can stay here.. What did you say your name was again?”
“Oh its (name).” Suddenly something seemed to get in his head as he quickly walked up to you, getting close to your face and squinting his eyes as if trying to find something. He then snaps his fingers with a smile.
“Aha! I do know you!” He smiles happily at you before it turns into a frown. “I never would've thought you would fall…” He says sadly “Well at least it brought us together right!” You just smile and nod before hugging him despite the very big height difference. He hugs you back and you both just stay there for a while. Maybe falling isn't that bad.
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
ahsjdkjd first request lets goooo!! i actually had sm fun writing this lol— lucifer is so cute i love him sm!!
•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*•*´¨`*•.¸¸.•*
585 notes · View notes
egcdeath · 1 year
Text
the l word
Tumblr media
pairing: joel miller x reader
summary: the five times you realized that you loved joel, and the first time one of you says it. 
word count: 9.1k
warnings: canon divergent, no apocalypse, 5+1 fic, hurt/comfort, a certain someone gets punched, brief mention of postpartum depression & abandonment, really brief mention of physical abuse in 3, fluff, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, found family
author’s note: happy very early valentine’s day! this is part three of the soccer parents au, you can read spectator sport (p1) and clean sheet (p2) here!
this fic would not be possible if it were not for the help of @freakinfairykind, who sent me the idea for scene 3 and listened to my thought vomit whenever i hit a roadblock! you can thank them for the brilliance that is what occurs in that scene :)! enjoy!
part four / series masterlist
Zero
After Nathan, you were sure that you would never fall in love again. Love was supposed to be beautiful and soft—a random bouquet of flowers, having a whole conversation with just your eyes, sweet messages sent to you when you expected it least and needed it most, and foot massages after a long day. For you, love had been nothing of the sort—settling for mediocrity, spitting out venomous words during arguments, and biting back tears on forgotten anniversaries. 
Love wasn’t kind or patient, or rainbows and flowers. Love was a storm cloud that followed you around when you were around him, pouring sadness and anger on you and striking you with lightning bolts of resentment. 
Maybe some people just simply weren’t meant for love. Maybe you were one of them.
One
After years of trying to hold together a failing marriage and hide the myriad of painful feelings you were going through for the sake of your daughter, bottling up your feelings had become your preferred coping mechanism to everyday stressors. 
For the most part, it worked for you. Sure, some days were harder than others, and the smallest confrontation or blip in the day would send you spiraling; but more often than not, you were able to compartmentalize whatever was bothering you and save it for a rainy day.
That was part of what worked so well about the relationship you had with Joel during the soccer season—you had the opportunity to unscrew the lid of the shaken bottle of your feelings just a little bit, taking some of the edge off by yelling about completely inconsequential things. But now, you don't have that outlet. And today was one of those days that you desperately needed it. 
Nathan had come by to pick up Chloe just a bit ago, and it was very obvious that she hadn’t exactly wanted to spend her weekend with him. Some of her friends were going to the mall and having a sleepover, and because Nathan wasn’t particularly fond of their parents, he’d very openly told her no. She begged and pleaded to stay with you (mainly so she could go hang out with her friends), which of course broke your heart a little bit, but also led to a pretty dramatic outburst from your daughter to Nathan when he’d picked her up.
“You’re raising a spoiled little brat,” he hissed at you, pointing an accusatory finger once Chloe was in the car. 
“At least I’m raising her. You only show up when it’s convenient for you,” you shot back. If Nathan wanted to stoop low, you could fall to his level. “Put your finger down. She’s watching us.”
“A little argument won’t hurt her,” he scoffed. “See? You’re proving my point: you spoil her too much.”
“Because years of watching her parents bicker wasn’t traumatic enough? Get in the fucking car, Nathan.”
He huffed, looking back at the car, then over at you. “Fine. But before I go, I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking poorly about me in front of her. Clearly she’s listening to you and acting out because of it.”
“Have you considered that you’re just a shit father and maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you?” you were already making your way back inside, feeling the avalanche of emotions beginning to stir inside of you, and a little frightened of what might come out next. 
“You’re still such a bitch. Every day I praise every deity that’s out there that I left your sorry ass.”
You were viciously fighting the urge to get the last word in, knowing that whatever would come out next wouldn’t be good, and you certainly didn’t want Chloe seeing you like that. You left him with a sarcastic thumbs up, then slammed your front door, taking deep breaths to attempt to calm yourself down.
You crumbled down in front of the door, still maintaining slow and deep breaths. It was no big deal. Nathan just says stuff like that to stir the pot. You just needed to find something to take your mind off of everything. Your mind went to the scarf you’d been working on crocheting, something you could mindlessly do for a little while while you cooled off. 
The scarf was going well. You were calmly crocheting the evening away when you checked your phone to find a few apologetic messages from your coworkers. Feeling confused, you went on to check your email, only to find that the promotion you’d spent the last few months of your life slaving away for had been given to someone else—someone who had worked half as hard as you, and even took credit for a few of your projects. 
Your hands shook as you set down your phone and attempted to pick back up the crochet hook. You were fine, right? Sometimes these things just happen. Sometimes you sacrifice hours of your free time, hours of time you’ll never get back with your child, or significant other, hours you’ll never get back of sleep, hours of-
You cut your mind off, tossing aside the scarf and taking a deep breath. You were gonna be okay. This just meant you could take your foot off the gas going forward, since your work, effort, and time clearly was not being valued. Maybe you would just sit at your desk and play games, then slap your name on projects and presentations like Naomi. Maybe you’d just-
Your phone began to vibrate on your bed and your immediate reaction was to silence it, but upon checking the contact name, you became slightly more inclined to answer. 
“Hey! I almost thought you weren’t gonna pick up,” the man on the other end chuckled. 
“Is everything okay?” you asked, although you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle anything else today. With how your day was going, Joel was probably calling you to break up.
“Better than okay. We finished up early, and Sarah’s already at her friend’s. You in the mood for some company?”
No, not particularly. In fact, if Joel came over, you’d probably end up going off on him over something you don’t really mean, successfully putting an end to the best thing you’ve had in a while. 
“Uh,” your voice cracked, and a rogue tear slipped down your face. You didn’t even know that you were on the brink of tears. “I’m sorry,” you uttered, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. 
“Sorry for what? You don’t have to feel bad for not wanting me over,” he said genuinely, not picking up on your emotional state over the phone. 
“No, I do want you over,” you whimpered. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, too.”
“What? I promise you I’m not going anywhere. Well, I’m going home now, but I can also come to your place if you want me to.”
“Please,” you grit out. 
“You okay?” he asked, finally catching on to the fact that something was very off with you. 
“I don’t know,” you confessed. 
“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
“No.”
“You sure you want me to come over?”
“Yeah,” you sniffled, desperately trying to fend off your tears.
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon, alright?”
“Bye,” you hung up, burrowing yourself under layers of blankets and curling up onto your side. Maybe this tidal wave of emotions would pass by the time Joel got to your place. You closed your eyes as you took deep, shaky breaths, wiping away stray tears every now and then as they fell. You could pull yourself together. 
You kept telling yourself this as you dragged yourself out of bed to answer the door, but the moment you saw Joel with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers, you completely lost it. He immediately tossed the items down and pulled you into a tight embrace, not exactly knowing what was wrong, but instinctually wanting to comfort you regardless. 
You didn’t even really know what it was either. Sure, you were pissed that you’d lost the promotion, and even more upset that Nathan had called your daughter a name while insulting your parenting skills, but it was far more than that. It was every little thing from the past two months that had upset you in some capacity that you had decided to push as far down as possible. 
You sobbed until your throat was raw and your eyes grew sore from crying so much. The whole time Joel wordlessly held you, rubbing soothing circles into your back and swaying you back and forth just the slightest bit. You almost felt like your tears would never stop, and the more you willed yourself to pull it together, the harder it was to do so. 
Finally, you pulled away, head hanging with humiliation by the emotions abruptly pouring out of you. You truly felt like a live wire. You should’ve just told Joel not to come over. 
“Want me to run you a bath?” he asked softly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you, and rubbing a thumb over your cheek. “Or is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“A bath is good,” you said quietly, averting your gaze. You almost felt like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. The shame of being a grown woman who couldn’t even control her emotions was overwhelming, but Joel didn’t seem to mind much at all. He simply led you up to your bathroom and quietly filled the tub for you, checking it every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Once the tub was filled up, he helped you undress, then held your hand as you stepped into the tub. 
“Would you like me to stay?” Joel asked as you settled into the tub. 
“Not really,” you admitted. 
“Okay. Just yell for me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs.”
Somehow, the bath was everything you needed. It was just warm enough to relax your rather tense muscles, and just quiet enough to allow you to actually process your thoughts. You sat and soaked in the bath for a while, just inhaling the scent of lavender, and trying your best to let go of the feelings that you’d been holding onto for so long. 
Eventually, you felt ready to talk about things, and called out Joel’s name, who after a moment, showed up in your bathroom and sat down on a towel next to the tub. 
“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching for your pruny hand. 
“Better,” you answered as you laced your fingers with his.  
“Well, I’m here when you feel ready to talk about it. And if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s okay too.” 
“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, the apology being more of a force of habit. 
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Joel  assured, “we all feel our feelings sometimes,” he pushed away a bit of hair that had fallen into your face. 
“I’m sorry you had to see me like this, I guess,” you continued. It had been a while since you’d shown any negative emotions in front of anyone, let alone a significant other. In fact, the last time you’d been sad in front of a significant other, you’d been laughed at and mocked. You’d been conditioned to see your own vulnerability as weakness, as a character flaw you needed to apologize for.
“Like what? Naked?” he teased, trying to at least make you smile when you’d clearly been feeling so down. “You know I don’t mind that at all. Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with being upset, and there’s nothing wrong with being upset in front of the people you care about.”
A tear slipped down your cheek. It had been so long since anyone had made you feel like you weren’t a burden for having a rough day. Joel gently brushed away your tears with his thumb, and kissed your forehead. 
“Thank you,” you muttered, feeling all sorts of feelings, particularly one feeling you couldn’t quite describe that had been lying dormant for years of your life. 
You eventually got out of the tub once the water had become too cold and you had become
somewhat of a human prune, and you found yourself curled up in bed with Joel, wearing a flannel that he’d left behind the last time he was over. 
“Feeling any better?” he asked once again, gently rubbing your back as a trashy reality TV show played quietly in the background. 
“Yeah,” you mumbled as you looked up at the ceiling, “it’s been a rough few months.” 
“Months?” Joel asked, scooting closer to you. “What’s been happening?”
“Too much to get into,” you sighed. “I guess it just all came out now.”
Joel turned down the volume of the TV, and turned his body so that he could face you properly. “If you want to talk, we have the time. I may or may not have drank a coffee on my way over here, so I’ll be completely alert for the next few hours.”
He gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, a little reminder that he was here for you. 
“Today’s just been… bad. When Nathan picked Chloe up, she was upset so he called her a spoiled brat and said that it was my fault that she was one. Obviously I do a lot for her, and I know that I’m a good mom, but sometimes the way he talks about her scares me a little. I don’t want her to have self-esteem issues because her dad likes to name-call. I mean, she’s probably gonna have enough issues from our shitty relationship and messy divorce. That really upset me, but that definitely wasn’t the last straw or anything.”
Joel silently sat and listened, holding your hand and listening attentively.
“I lost the promotion, Joel. You know, the one I’ve been working absurd hours for? But it’s not just that, it’s just… there are months of emotions I haven’t had a chance to process. I guess it just all came out now after that.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “Nathan is an asshole. He shouldn’t be saying that kind of thing about his child just to make you feel bad. And your boss is stupid for not giving you that position when you’ve clearly earned it. Everything you’ve felt today is valid, but so is everything else that you’ve been holding in for the past… however long. It’s okay to feel your feelings in the moment instead of waiting for them to boil over.”
“I guess, it’s just… I don’t know. I’ve had to be strong for so long. I don’t know if I know how to not wait for my emotions to boil over.”
“Well, you don’t have to be so strong anymore. You’re not alone,” he assured you. “If you ever need me to watch Chloe because you need to go out to the middle of nowhere and scream, or just need someone to talk your feelings out with, I am more than happy to do so. Okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed, setting your head on Joel’s chest. 
You were getting that weird, dormant feeling in you once again. There was an odd warmth in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, that felt strange and familiar, but most of all, exciting. You had no idea what was going on, or what that feeling was, but you did know that you didn’t want it to stop anytime soon.
And honestly, it didn’t seem like it would. 
Two
Walking into Joel’s home to the sound of soft guitar chords made you feel a bit like you had woken up in a dream, or died and gone to heaven. It wasn’t often that you’d heard him play guitar. Sing? Sure! He loved to sing along to a song he liked on the radio, or do karaoke with you and the kids. But playing guitar was something that he seemed to like to keep to himself.
Joel had picked Chloe up from school, as you had an important work event that you’d anticipated going quite late, and as you’d predicted, it was nearly midnight by the time you got to Joel’s place. It was rare for you to see those two alone, without yours or Sarah’s presence, but you’d assumed the latter had gone to bed due to how late it was and the fact that they had school in the morning.
So hearing Joel play for your daughter felt… weird. But a good weird. Like he trusted her enough to be doing something that he often kept under wraps, even for you.
“I love this song!” you heard your daughter exclaim from the living room. You rounded a corner, not quite ready to appear yet, but curious enough to eavesdrop on the scene.
Joel chuckled at her reaction, “should we sing it together?”
“Maybe, I’m not very good, though.”
“I doubt that,” Joel said, continuing to play the introduction to the song on a loop. 
“I… fine, I’ll sing.”
The two of them began to sing along to the song, and you could’ve sworn that your heart did an actual flip as you listened. There was something very sweet about the whole scene, of Joel playing a song your daughter loved, of him assuring her that she was good enough, and singing something together. 
You should’ve felt bad for listening in on the scene, for invading on a moment that was clearly meant to be private, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way when your heart was so filled with… something that you couldn’t quite place.
The song came to a soft conclusion, and you figured there was no better time to finally step out from behind the wall than then. 
“You guys sounded so good!” you stated as you entered the room.
“Oh hi,” Joel greeted a little awkwardly, looking down at his guitar as if he’d been caught red handed. 
“Mom!” Chloe exclaimed, coming over to you and hugging you. “I missed you.”
“We were just killing time while we waited for you to get home. How was work?”
“Eh,” you shrugged, sitting down across from Joel as Chloe curled up next to you. “It was work.”
“Mom, did you know that Joel sings and plays guitar? He’s really good!”
“Really? I didn’t know that,” you acted surprised for your child, but looked mischievously at your partner. It wasn’t often that you had the chance to get Joel to play you something, and you refused to let the opportunity slip away from you. “Can you play me something?”
“He can!” Chloe accepted the offer before Joel could begin to protest. God, was this child your mini-you. “Go ahead, Joel.”
He looked to you as if he needed some sort of excuse to not do it, or encouragement to play (more likely than not, he was looking for an out), but you simply shrugged, far too enthused at the idea of him playing guitar for you. 
Just as the man sighed and began to put his fingers to the string, Sarah came down the stairs and plopped herself right next to you. 
“You guys are loud,” she stated, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 
“Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized. “You were just about to miss your dad’s concert!”
“Oh good,” Sarah giggled, getting all comfortable next to you as she pulled a blanket over her lap. 
“I feel like this is a premeditated attack,” Joel held onto his guitar. 
“It’s definitely not. We just want you to share your gift with the world!”
“Alright, fine. Only because I like you guys so much.”
The three of you cheered from the couch as Joel began to play again, the soft acoustic notes of a love song you’d heard a few times before. As Joel played and sang, he looked straight at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like the lyrics were coming straight from his heart to you. 
That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you’d become more and more familiar with over the course of your relationship began to reappear as you sat there, the moment a snapshot of the perfect domestic bliss that had become your home life. As you sat with your two favorite children in the world, and your favorite man, you realized that you’d never felt more content in your life. 
Three
When you agreed to come to a bar with Joel, you hadn’t expected it to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall with great live music. 
The atmosphere was lively, the drinks were dangerously sweet, and best of all, it was cute watching Joel in his element. Part of you wondered if he ever saw himself up on the stage, playing for a little audience. Although, he was so bashful and shy playing in front of you and the girls that you wondered if he would like it at all. 
You finished off your first drink rather quickly, but you were feeling up for another, and prepared to head back to the bar. “Do you want another drink?” you asked Joel over the loud music. 
“I’m alright. Thank you, though,” he kissed your cheek, then looked back up at the stage, directing all of his focus there once more. 
You made your way back to the bar, where you ordered another fruity drink for yourself and patiently waited for it to be made, humming along to the cover being sung on stage. 
Being able to find out more about what Joel liked to spend his time doing was (unsurprisingly) quite nice. While he was vulnerable with his emotions, he was often a little more closed off when it came to sharing his hobbies and interests. You wondered how many of these live shows and open mics he was familiar with, how many local artists he was friends with. Would he ever feel comfortable enough around you to share those things with you? Well, you certainly hoped so. 
You looked around with a small smile on your face at the thought of learning more about your partner’s interests. Had he ever been the one up on stage? Maybe before Sarah was born and he was launched straight into the time consuming world of fatherhood. Although, he surely would’ve shared that with you by now.
You were drawn out of thought when eyes landed on a head of hair that looked a little too familiar for your liking.  
No.
There was no way.
This bar was definitely not his scene. In fact, if you’d suggested this bar, he would’ve laughed in your face and called you a hipster, before dragging you out to some stuffy restaurant where he’d complain about the portion size of both his meal and the bill. 
Your mind was just playing a mean trick on you. You’d had a somewhat stressful week, and sometimes drinking made you the slightest bit paranoid. Besides, it was just someone’s hair. Literally anyone could have that hair color, or hair cut, and although the world was small, it wasn’t that small. 
Just as you began to fall headfirst into your nerves, the bartender handed you your drink, and you walked back to Joel, head still in the clouds. 
You couldn’t shake that off feeling, even as Joel danced around with you and stole a sip of your drink, both actions bringing a smile to your face, but not quite quelling the growing discomfort in your stomach. 
You just needed to go clear your mind and freshen up. At least, that’s what you told yourself before telling Joel to keep your drink safe and power walking to the bathroom.
You stood at the sink, splashing your face with water as cold as the faucets would go. Nathan was not here. You needed to just relax, and enjoy the fun date that Joel had planned. You couldn’t keep letting this man ruin your experiences, even when he wasn’t present.
“You okay, hun?” a voice asked you while your head was bowed over the sink. When you looked up, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, as if you were some ridiculous cartoon character. 
Well. Your brain must’ve really been fucking with you today. Or the Universe just really hated you. 
Claire, Nathan’s new girlfriend, was asking you if you were alright in the bathroom of a bar that your new boyfriend had suggested. 
You were completely unsure of whether she knew who you were or not, although she seemed tipsy enough not to care. 
“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled awkwardly at her. “But, uh, my mascara’s a little smudged. Any chance you have a makeup wipe?”
“Yeah!” she said, digging into her purse to check for the item. 
You’d never met Claire before, but as far as first impressions went, this one wasn’t too bad. She offered you the wipe, then stood next to you as you dabbed at your under eye. 
“You meet anyone fun tonight?” she asked, beginning to touch up her own makeup. 
“No, I’m actually here with my partner. He really likes the music,” you said casually, dabbing at the same spot so you could at least attempt to maintain your composure in an otherwise dramatically ironic and tense situation. 
“Oh no. Was he the one making you cry?”
“Cry? No! I was sweating. We were dancing,” suddenly, a slightly perverse question crossed your mind. “Does your partner make you cry a lot?”
“How do you even know I have one?” she giggled, sounding less accusatory and more confused. 
“I don’t I just-“
“No, not really,” she shrugged as she reapplied her lip liner. “He mostly just buys me shit and spoils me. What would I have to cry about? He’s a really good guy.”
Oh, you remembered that phase. Well, phases. The time after he’d slapped you during an argument immediately came to mind. Nathan could probably teach a seminar on love bombing, then making you feel guilty for having any negative feelings because of all the money he’d spent on you. 
“That’s good,” you nodded, tossing the used wipe in the trash and making your way to the door. “Thanks for checking in on me and helping me. Have a good night.”
“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asked as your hand hit the door.
“No,” you replied promptly, maybe slamming the door behind you a little too hard. 
This was a lot to process, and a lot to take in. Despite having a fun time with Joel, you really just wanted to go home. Finding your way back out to him, you silently accepted back your drink and stood besides him stiffly. 
“You okay?” he asked, gently grabbing your arm. 
“Fine, just… just.. I have an upset stomach,” you explained. You were never a good liar, the concern in Joel’s eyes told you that you hadn’t suddenly become one. 
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said, rubbing your forearm gently. “Let’s go home, okay?”
You certainly didn’t protest as he began to lead you out of the bar, and you let out a sigh of relief at being able to leave before running into anyone else you knew.
Although, life was never that simple, was it?
As you approached the door, a familiar voice called out your name, sending a chill up your spine. Joel’s head whipped around from where it was coming from, and scowled when he saw who the voice belonged to. Ignoring him, the two of you continued your departure, a newfound urgency in both of your steps.
Once you were outside, you felt yourself puff out a sigh of relief. You’d managed to get out of the bar with only a brief conversation with Claire, and no direct interaction with Nathan. Now, if you could only get home, curl up with Joel on the couch, and tell him the absurd story of how you’d bumped into your ex’s new girlfriend in the bathroom. 
But the universe clearly wasn’t letting you off the hook just yet.
“Hey!” Nathan called as he stepped out of the bar, Claire trailing just a few paces behind him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. Can’t even say hi to the father of your child.”
You were almost alarmed by the speed in which Joel marched over to your ex and reprimanded him. Not even wasting a moment, Joel shoved him back—a warning of sorts, with your knowledge that he was certainly holding himself back. 
“Leave her the fuck alone,” he barked. It was like no tone you’d ever heard him use before, not when he was upset with anyone, and not even when he was yelling at a referee for a bad call.  
“And who the fuck are you?” your ex shot back. 
“Does it really matter?” Joel pressed, not backing down despite the slightly shorter man getting in his face. “You’re not gonna go around trying to degrade women.”
“Oh yeah? You gonna stop me, Mr. Nice guy?” Nathan pushed Joel, but your partner barely budged. 
“You fuckin’ cuck,” Nathan muttered. “Why do you even care about this whore?”
Nathan took a second to think about it, glancing between the two of you before a light seemed to go off in his little brain. 
“Oh, I know. You’re that guy from the soccer games. You two together now?" His condescension was almost jarring to hear, and part of you worried about what your clearly inebriated ex might say or do next. “I see you’re still the community cumrag,” he directed at you. 
You hardly had a moment to process what was just said before Joel was swinging, clearly seeing red as he threw a hefty right hook at your ex, leaving a nasty crunching sound as he fell to the ground. 
“Don’t talk about her, or any other fucking woman like that ever again,” he squatted down to his level, and grabbed both of his cheeks. “Leave her the fuck alone, you understand me? Or next time you’re gonna wish it was just your nose.”
Nathan cradled his bloody nose and whimpered and Joel walked back to you, the fury on his face melting into something apologetic as you looked at him with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he began, cautiously approaching you as if he was something to be afraid of. “I shouldn’t have done that. I overstepped-“
“Joel. Don’t apologize. Do you know how much that asshole deserved it? You did everyone a favor tonight, but especially me.” 
You had never had someone defend you so literally before. Sure, your friends had argued with Nathan a few times on your behalf, but punching Nathan in the face had truly raised your expectations for anyone who claimed to be doing anything to help you. You don’t think you’d have felt this alive or cherished in years. 
“Now let’s get you home and ice those knuckles.”
Four
You were usually a big fan of rainy days. The sound of rain pattering against the window or on the roof of your car, and the smell of petrichor on the pavement were sensations you wished you could experience all the time. But today, you weren’t quite so pleased to see the rain. 
You’d taken the day off to spend it with Joel, who had specifically asked for you to take some time off to be with him. You couldn’t blame him, as you’d been slightly neglecting him after things picked up once again at work. You’d had a whole outdoorsy day planned, with a morning hike, a visit to a conservatory, and a picnic at one of your favorite local parks. Unfortunately, none of those activities could be done comfortably in the pouring rain. 
Instead, you opted to come back to your place after you dropped your kids off at school, and have a domestic little day-in.
After putting some homemade cinnamon rolls into the oven, the two of you found yourselves on your couch, comfortably sitting together and reading your own books while the smell of warm cinnamon filled your house. 
Occasionally, you glanced out your window, the scene of rain granting you a sense of serenity. At one point, you noticed Joel’s gaze out the window as well, and you couldn’t help but comment on it. 
“Don’t you just love the rain?” you asked, setting your book down on your coffee table. It was more of an excuse to break the silence than an actual comment, but you said it regardless.
“It’s nice,” he agreed, his tone oddly somber for a comment on the rain. 
“You okay, big guy?” you asked before moving closer to Joel. 
“I’m alright,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There wasn’t any real concrete evidence that something was off, but something inside you told you that something definitely was off. 
“You sure?” you asked, squeezing his bicep. 
“Yeah, it’s just,” he paused, looking down at his book as if he was about to go right back to reading instead of telling you the issue. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke once more, “it’s the anniversary of Diane leaving.”
Oh. So that’s why he’d asked to be with you today.
You’d never heard Joel say her name before. Sure, you’d seen her name written under a polaroid or two, but you’d never heard Joel reference her ever. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really know what their deal was. Amicable exes? Divorcees? Was Joel a widower? You felt awful that you’d gone this far into a relationship and still didn’t know anything about his last significant one. 
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, not completely sure how to react. You mainly wanted to get a gauge on Joel’s reaction–just how upset was he? Did he want to talk about it? Or just get the importance of the day out in the open?
“It’s just… Today feels like that day in a lot of ways.”
You nodded slowly, still not exactly sure of how to approach the situation. You thought back to all of the times he’d been there to support you when you were having a rough day, and ended up asking aloud, “is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” 
“Maybe just listening, if that’s okay. It helps to talk about it,” he paused. “The rolls smell done. I’ll go get them,” with that, he was off to the kitchen, barely giving you time to react, or even protest his departure.
He clearly wanted to talk, but just wasn’t completely ready to do so at that moment. You could listen. You could be the best damn listener on the planet if that was what Joel needed from you. No matter what he revealed to you today, you were determined to make Joel feel comfortable, and know that whatever he was going through, he wasn’t alone—just as he’d shown you in the past.
By the time he came back to the living room, Joel offered you a plate with an iced cinnamon roll and acted like everything was normal. He sat back down next to you, stole a bite from your plate, then buried his nose right back into his novel.
You respected his right to process his emotions in any way he saw fit. All you could do was be a good partner, and offer whatever he needed from you to feel better, like he’d done for you so many times before. 
While you were fine with spending your day cuddled up on the sofa and reading, you were also aware that there were a good amount of house chores that were calling your name. Upon mentioning these tasks, Joel insisted on helping out, which was how you two landed in the laundry room, laughing at something stupid that had happened to you this week. 
While you loaded light clothes into your washer, Joel suddenly caught you off guard with a question that was a far cry from the banter you’d just been having only moments before. 
“Is it… are you okay with me talking about it?”
By it you could only assume he meant the giant elephant of a woman in the room. 
“Of course,” you turned to him, offering sympathetic eyes. 
“She left just a few months after Sarah was born,” Joel busied himself by pouring out laundry detergent and fabric softeners. “I just woke up one morning to an empty bed and a note in the kitchen saying she was leaving, she wasn’t coming back, and not to look for her.”
You were taken aback by the cruelty of such an abrupt ending, especially with such a young infant. You couldn’t imagine being put in those circumstances so unexpectedly. 
Joel casually poured the respective liquids into their proper places in the machine, then turned it on. “It was a day just like this. The nursery had a nice, big window that we put a rocking chair in front of. Sarah liked looking at the stars when she was younger, it always helped to calm her down. I remember holding her in that chair and bawling my eyes out while she cried too, and with all the rain against the window… it felt like the Earth was crying right along with us.”
You weren’t sure what to say or how to react, but it seemed like Joel was prepared to move right on, quickly changing the subject as he led you out of the laundry room. 
Baking cinnamon rolls had left a lot of dishes in the sink, but luckily for you, you had an extra set of hands to help you out. Joel was on rinsing duty, and you were on loading.
You quickly found your rhythm, as you often did with partnered tasks. You worked quietly while loading the dishes, letting the music from your speaker fill up the silence, but it was obvious Joel was lost in thought.
Eventually, he quietly began to speak again, “I kept trying to make sense of her leaving. I knew that postpartum depression hit her really hard, and that she was barely sleeping at night because of how often Sarah was crying. Sarah was a really sensitive, fussy baby. She’d told me how she’d felt a few times, and I always kinda thought things would just pass. Every new parent hits that roadbump where they just can’t see themselves doing this thing forever, right? Then, she just left. I thought maybe she just needed a few days away, and that she’d be back. But days went by, then weeks, then it had been a month, and it was still just Sarah and I.”
“Did she ever come back around?” you asked, setting down the last dish into the sink, then closing the machine.
“Never heard from her again.”
You closed the distance between you and the man, wrapping him in as tight of a hug that you could manage. 
“I’m so sorry,” you muttered into his shirt as he melted into your embrace. “I can’t even imagine how painful and stressful that was.”
As a mother, you couldn’t imagine abandoning your child; the tiny human being you spent nine months carrying, and would spend a lifetime loving. But as a human, you understood the stress of being the parent of a newborn. Waking up every few hours because your baby is crying and you’ve tried everything to get her to stop but she just… won’t. Paired with postpartum depression, which you were no stranger to, you could understand the circumstances that led Diane to feeling like she had no other option but to leave. But that didn’t, in any way, make it the right thing to do. 
As you held Joel, a sound you hadn’t ever heard from him escaped his lips, wracking his body. A guttural cry that had clearly been trapped deep inside of him for the longest time had suddenly escaped as he recalled an event that had clearly changed his life. 
You stood in the kitchen holding him for what felt like forever, when he finally pulled away, wiping his face a little bit. 
“Thank you,” was all that he managed to get out.
You laid next to him in bed after a rather emotionally loaded session of lovemaking, trying to catch your breath as the two of you recovered from the underlying emotional and physical aftermath of your fornication. As Joel spooned you, a question lingered on your mind. 
“Do you still love her?” you asked, keeping your eyes forward on the wall. You wanted to say you were sure he had moved on, but these types of situations were rather nuanced. There were just some bonds that regardless of time or circumstances, people continued to hold on to. 
“No,” he answered clearly. “I don’t hate her, either. I guess I just understand her. But that doesn’t make what she put me or Sarah through any better.” 
You slipped your hand down to where his were currently laying on your stomach, and you set one on top of his. 
“I’m not jealous, I’m just curious. Do you ever miss her?” 
“I used to,” he sighed, the close breath blowing some hairs on your neck. “I don’t anymore.”
Eventually, your laundry was dry, meaning you two needed to get out of bed and get to folding. 
“She has a new family, now,” he said out of the blue, as he folded up a pair of your pajama pants. “Husband, kids, dog, the full nine yards. Tommy found her Facebook a few years ago, but I still haven’t looked. I don’t really know why.”
You didn’t really know why either, but you knew exactly the feeling he was experiencing. Seeing your ex who you’d invested so much into and had a child with move on with someone was a particularly gut wrenching feeling. You could only imagine how much worse it was in Joel’s scenario, where Diane had abandoned him and their child, yet had a child and built another family elsewhere. 
“Does Sarah know?” you asked, putting a blouse onto a hanger. 
“Bits and pieces. She kinda just accepted that her mom’s not in the picture, but doesn’t know why she left or anything about her mom’s new family,” Joel finished up with his basket, then began to help you with yours. “Maybe when she’s older. Old enough to understand that it isn’t her fault and that these things just… happen sometimes.”
“I guess,” you frowned as you grabbed your last article of clothing and hung it up. “It shouldn’t have happened, though. Neither of you deserved to be abandoned.”
“It was gonna happen one way or another,” Joel shrugged, putting your baskets away. “Our relationship had been on the rocks even before Diane became pregnant. If it wasn’t then, it would be later. I’m just glad it happened early enough that Sarah doesn’t remember. You in the mood for a coffee?”
His words gave you a bit of whiplash, but you accepted the offer of a warm drink regardless. 
You sat at your table, stirring your drink as Joel sat down across from you. 
“Good, right?” he asked. “I think I’ve officially nailed the way you like your coffee.”
“It’s pretty good,” you admitted, taking a sip from a mug that Chloe had decorated in her school’s art class. 
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Good. It is one,” you hummed. 
It was clear that his mood was slightly improving the more that he talked about his experience. You wondered just how much of this information he’d shared with anyone else before you, as he told the story as if he were confessing something for the first time ever. 
“I’ve never told anyone this much about it,” he confessed. “I’m glad that of all the people I could’ve told, it ended up being you.”
“Joel, I,” the words popped into your head, but died on your tongue. “I care about you so much. I know this can’t be easy to talk about, so thank you for sharing this with me,” you squeezed his hands across the table. 
“Thank you for being so supportive. I also care about you a lot. So much that it scares me. Especially knowing that you could lose everything in a literal night,” he admitted. 
“Oh Joel,” you said softly. “I’m also scared. I’m always so scared that I’ll lose you and Sarah and this little blended family we’ve made. But if that’s the price I pay for… caring about you so much, I’m okay with being afraid.”
Joel looked at you like he had something to say, but instead sat there quietly for a moment, processing your words. “Do you want to watch an episode of The Bachelorette?” 
“Is that even a question? C’mon,” you stood up.
The two of you cuddled up on the couch once again, this time with a much lighter feeling in the room, partially due to what Joel had confessed to you, and partially due to the absolutely ridiculous content playing on your television.
“I’m sad that I had to go through what I had to go through, but I’m glad that it led me to you,” Joel said out of the blue, resting his forehead against yours.
You were glad that he found you too.
Five
It wasn’t every day that the forces of the universe seemed to be on your side, but for some reason, today was one of those days. 
When you’d been called into your boss’ office that morning, a pit formed in your stomach. You’d figured that the day you were going to be laid off was coming, especially following the whole promotion fiasco. As you walked into her office, you fully intended to be walking out without a job. 
Except, that wasn’t what happened. You had been promoted, and promoted into a position even higher than the one you’d previously been gunning after. 
Once you found out, you had to fight the urge to skip out of your boss’s office, singing and dancing with joy. Instead, you fought that urge by closing the door to your office, and calling Joel. 
“Hey honey, what’s up?” he answered casually. 
“Joel, they promoted me! And it’s an even better position than what I was trying to get before!” you squealed. 
Joel cheered from over the phone, making you somehow smile even harder. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you. I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you.”
“Oh my god, stop it,” you giggled, putting your hands up to your warm cheeks. 
“No, I’m serious,” Joel countered. “I know a lot of hard workers, and none of them work as hard as you. You’ve sacrificed so much to get here and it’s finally paid off.”
“Thank you, Joel,” you had more to say, but you decided to keep it to yourself. Mainly, how did you get so lucky to end up with a man like him? 
“Are you busy tonight?” he asked. 
“I’m just dropping Chloe off at my mom’s, then I should be free for the evening. Why?”
“Why don’t you come over to my place so we can celebrate? You picked the right time to get a promotion. Sarah’s going to her uncle’s for the weekend.”
“Sounds good to me,” you hummed. “I’ll text you when I’m heading over.”
“Alright. Again, congratulations! So proud.”
You hung up and attempted to get back to work, but you were far too excited to focus for too long. You somehow made it to the end of the work day and to Joel’s house without spontaneously combusting from joy.
When you walked in, you were immediately met with the smells of one of your favorite candles, mixed with the mouthwatering scent of fragrant coming from the kitchen. 
“Joel, I’m home!” you announced, making your way to the kitchen only to find it very dressed up. The lights were dimmed, a crisp white table cloth rested on the table, and a gorgeous arrangement of flowers sat in a vase in the middle of the table, right next to a rather nice looking bottle of champagne. 
Joel was finishing up plating something spectacular as you came in. “Please, have a seat,” he directed. You didn’t need to be told twice. 
With the arrangement of the table, you almost felt like you were sitting at a fancy little restaurant, but better, knowing all the effort Joel had put into making the table look this way.  He brought over two plates, set one over at his seat and one in front of you, before leaning down and kissing you gently. 
“Congratulations. I am so, so, so proud of you,” he said after finally pulling away, reaching for the bottle of champagne on the table.
“If anyone in the world deserves good things,” he turned away from you so that he could safely pop the bottle. “It’s you. I’m glad you’re finally getting the recognition that you deserve.”
With the bottle opened, he poured you out a glass, then poured himself some. You lifted up your glass and Joel mirrored you.
“Cheers,” you said with a grin, tapping your glasses together, then taking a sip. Once you finished drinking, Joel leaned in for one more kiss before he situated himself back into his chair. 
“I think you deserve a promotion from best boyfriend in the world to best boyfriend in the universe,” you softly laughed, looking down at your plate. 
“Do I? I think anyone would celebrate the person they…” he paused for just a split second, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying such close attention. “The person they’re sharing their life with if they made a big accomplishment like this.”
“Honey, you’d be very surprised. I can think of at least one person who would view this promotion as a bad thing.”
“Well, don’t think about them right now. This is an amazing thing, and we’re celebrating you today. Not an insecure man with a Napoleon complex and a small penis.”
You laughed out loud, nearly choking on a bubbly sip of champagne. 
“You’re right,” you picked up your fork and knife, reading to dig into the amazing looking meal in front of you. “Thank you for this, Joel. You always make me feel so appreciated and cherished. You’re truly one of a kind.”
He shook his head bashfully at the compliment, eating right along with you. It was almost cute how he never seemed to accept compliments, but certainly deserved them more than basically any other person that you knew. 
“You always show me how much you care about me. It’s only fair that I do the same.”
“You’re so romantic,” you sighed. “How can I guarantee that I can keep you around forever?”
“Just keep being you, I guess. That’s all I’ve really ever wanted.”
How did you get so lucky? How did you manage to hit the jackpot on men with Joel, almost let it slip through your fingers not once, but twice, and still managed to end up with one of your favorite people in the world? 
However it ended up happening, you certainly weren’t mad at it, and as you sat together, you hoped for things never to change. 
Plus One
Given that you practically lived at each other’s homes now, you often spent your mornings together getting ready to take on the day. It was cute how you both had your own little routines and were able to coexist in a tiny little space. 
Today, you stood in Joel’s bathroom, washing your face as the mirror across from you began to become progressively more foggy from the heat of Joel’s shower. 
“My hair is gonna be so frizzy,” you muttered to yourself as you rubbed moisturizer into your skin. 
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to come in here with me,” Joel shot back from the shower, turning the water off. 
“Whatever,” you grumbled, getting back to work on your face as Joel dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist. 
“You’re so cute when you’re grumpy in the morning,” he commented as he approached you, standing next to you at the sink. 
“I am not grumpy,” you argued, then paused once Joel gave you a very disbelieving expression. “Fine. I can get a little irritable in the morning. Especially when someone’s boiling hot showers make my hair get all frizzy.”
“I wonder who that someone is?” Joel looked around the room in faux confusion. 
“Ugh, shut up. You are such a dad,” you fought back laughter, but you couldn’t really help the smile that appeared on your lips. 
“Shutting up,” Joel acknowledged, grabbing his razor and some shaving cream to touch up some of his facial hair. You began to brush your teeth, focusing on yourself in the mirror to make sure that you were making your dentist proud. 
Your eyes eventually migrated and were meeting Joel’s in the mirror. You flashed him a big, foamy grin, and he immediately broke into hysterics, setting the razor down so he didn’t cut himself while laughing so hard. 
“Really?” he asked between laughs. “While I’m shaving?”
“Sorry,” you shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk. 
“You are such a dork,” Joel sighed as he calmed himself down, leaning against the counter as he began to work on shaving his face once more. “Ugh, I love you,” the words seemed to come out of his mouth involuntarily, if the horrified look on his face told you anything. 
It seemed like the whole house stopped after Joel said it, the dripping from the showerhead ceasing, the faint buzz of the air conditioner nowhere to be found, and the noises of your children downstairs coming to a halt.
You were shocked at the admission, and Joel seemed to be shocked that he’d said anything. 
Now that he’d mentioned it, you really did love Joel. You loved how he supported you, and how he treated your daughter like she was his own. You loved that he wasn’t afraid to fight for what he believed in, especially when that included socking your ex in the face. You loved his ability to be vulnerable with you, and the way that he seemed to always know what to say at the right time. You loved knowing that no matter how shitty of a day you’d had, Joel would always be there, ready to order your favorite foods and spoon you while decompressing with the worst, most trashy reality TV you could find. 
You’d spent all this time thinking that you’d never experience romantic love again, that romantic love was tumultuous and exhausting, when you’d been in love with Joel the whole time. 
You were one of those people who were meant to love and be loved. Joel had proven that much to you. 
“I love you too,” you confessed, toothpaste still obstructing your mouth.
Maybe love wasn't so bad after all.
3K notes · View notes
burstinn · 6 months
Note
Bro..I love your blog already
Can you please do CoD (Ghost, soap, nikto, roach, könig, price, Gromsko(if you write for him) with male reader who has mouth like mileena from mortal combat 😵 you know..sharp ass teeth, Long slimy tongue and shit
Can be nsfw if you want👀
MALE READER WITH A MOUTH LIKE MILEENA
(Headcanons/ short story?)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
People shown: Ghost, Soap, Nikto, Roach, König, Price,Gromsko. As per requested.
Warnings: body/face disfigurement?,small mention of experiment and torture, mentions of slight depression/ mental breakdowns.
Themes: fluff, slight angst, comfort, no nsfw for now ain't feelin the groove can be read with mutual or start of a romantic relationship. Just wanna be held and comforted fr fr 😞😞✋🤚
Note: I never wrote about Gromsko but I do know him. Had to do a research into him. So this is my interpretation of Gromsko hope I got him right.
Also these Headcanons ARE FUCKING LONG. so I hope you saved room for breakfast, lunch, dinner, appetizers, and dessert with complimentary drinks too.
Also this is kinda rushed? I didn't have time to proofread this. So like. Yeah..
You (M/N) had a very disfigured mouth a big slash across your lower face. Making it look like your lower face have been burnt in half. Showing sharp teeth protruding out accompanying it was your long sharp tounge. Your face adorned with scars and bruises you managed to collect through your time in the military. But when you had this type of injury..Where your mouth looks so horribly scarred you had to leave the military.
Due to how long you've been in the military. And how you've been tortured and experimented on making your face look like..this. You hated it. But you wanted to be back in the military for your own personal reasons.
Now since your back in the military you've kept your face hidden. You didn't want your new team to look at you in disgust and horror. They always used to be so scared. But it's a new team! You just have to keep your mask on and none would be the wiser.
GHOST
-Ever since Ghost saw you he always felt something was..off about you. It's not like you kept to yourself no you were sociable sometimes.
-But he kept his doubts about you to himself. You were a soldier. And just because he felt off doesn't mean he had to treat you differently
-He wasn't prodding or asking you about why you kept wearing you mask.
- You have your problems on why you wore your mask, He has his problems. It's like a little understanding why you kept your mask on 24/7.
- Then that one faithful day when you both were paired on a mission and you were caught by an enemy dragged to a building.
- Ghost was quick to follow you. He was nearby and saw you get dragged.
-He made his way silently and quickly through the building. Slipping in through a cracked window as he searched around cautiously.
-A bang could be heard, then a scream. Then silence.. That wasnt good. He swiftly ran over to where he heard the scream. And he found you..you weren't dead no. The enemy was. A big gnash on their neck as they slowly bled on the cold floor.
-And you were there. Coiled into a ball quietly sobbing, shaking your head. He glanced at the bleeding enemy one more time before he ran over to you immediately making his presence known as he gently grabbed your arms covering you face.
-When he pried your hands off and saw your face. He only sighed his eyes softening in small realization. Before he hugged you. As you continue to sob. He knew why you covered your face now... And he won't hate you for that.
SOAP
- He immediately took an interest towards you when he first saw you for the first couple weeks.
- He would stalk you for a bit. Realizing you never took your mask off..like Ghost.
- He didn't mind as well. Maybe you had a similar reason to Ghost. Although that didn't stop him to ask you to take off your mask.
- You took it well. Really just teasing him that you totally would show Soap your face.(you wouldn't, never)
- That only made Soap think that you would someday show your face.
- You both grew close. Always hanging out, making jokes, hell even sleeping in the same room.
- Although he would keep pestering you about your mask.
- You trusted him deeply and he trusted you.
- Then one day you pulled Soap in a closet.. Although he was a bit suspicious asking you slyly why you brought him here. Before you shut him up.
- It was serious.. you trusted him so so deeply.. maybe..he wouldn't judge you if you showed him..your face? And that's what you did. You explained why you called him here. Hus face bellowing with excitement. As you slowly took off your mask showing. Your face.
- You looked worriedly at him. Soap had gone silent. And he was just staring wide eyed...oh no..no..no.. that wasn't the reaction you wanted.
- You tried to explain..or try to convince Soap to not make you look like a freakish fool. But Soap just..ran out of the closet.. leaving you there dumbstruck..
- It was only later in the night. Specifically midnight. You couldn't forget how Soap looked at you it was heart wrenching. That was it. He thinks you look like a freak now.
- You hold your face in your hands. Sobbing about your friend.. that now thinks your disgusting.
- Then 3 knocks came at your door. You dawned your mask wiping away your tears before opening the door. Before you even react Soap pushes you in your room and closes the door.
- You don't respond. He whispers something to you then he removes your mask. Making you panic..Then he holds your face. Gentle and soft as he looks at you with a solemn smile.
- "M/N..." He whispers your name again as he rubs your lower face. Holding you in his arms as he whispers praises.. and apologies. For you.
NIKTO
- He wouldn't care about you
- He really didn't like or want any more new recruits. He found new people annoying. So when you first bumped into Nikto. He gave you a glare before he shoved past you.
- When he overheard people talking about how you never removed your mask. He got slightly curious so whenever you were nearby he would watch you. And they were right. You never took off your mask.
- One day he got frustrated with you. Do you think you're special for not taking off your mask?
You think you are cool? He seethed.
- Although he was a brute to you he was at least modest well.. modest to not pull your mask out of your face Infront of your teammates.
- Instead he cornered you somewhere private. Gruffly asking then commanding you to take off your mask.
- When you disagreed he ripped it off your face. And saw..your.. face. His eyes slightly widened.
- And when you started to panic trying to grab your mask while hiding it. Til' you eventually snatched it out of his hands when he was frozen with shock. You wore your mask and ran out.
- That's when Nik knew he fucked up. He knew he needed to apologize. So he went to search for you after he processed what happened now the guilt weighing down on him every minute he couldn't find you.
- When he finally found you probably hiding off somewhere, most likely avoiding Nik. He sat down next to you. Unsure how to start with his apology.
- When he finally blurted it out. Looking at you with obvious guilt in his eyes. But he knew sorry wasn't enough. So he took his mask off himself. Showing his own scars and bruises. Scooting himself closer to you still with that apologetic look.
- You talked for a while maybe about how you got your scar or not. About anything else.
ROACH
-Hes quiet around you. Once he first saw you he didn't really react much. It's just a new recruit nothing special.
- You never takes off your mask? Nothing special to him.
- He kept to himself you kept to yourself.
- he was just crawling around one day. Hiding up in small spaces and just idk stayed there.
- And when you bursted in closing the door behind you. He hid himself further in that corner he was in. He's not confronting you..nuh uh..
- He watched you stand there for a few minutes before you took of your mask. Showing off your lower face. Which made him go closer to see.
- Woah.. He watched you intently without your mask. Taking in every detail. He thought you looked cool. Didn't understand why you hid your face. Looked kinda sick tbh.
- That's when you felt someone watching you and you lock eyes with Roach. Your eyes widening hastily grabbing your mask and running off. Leaving Roach there with his thoughts. He must've understood enough you don't like being seen with your mask down.
- So the next few days. He watched you looking at you with a knowing look. While you looked back nervous and full of embarrassment?.
- And one of those days he was watching you. He walked up to you without saying anything and handed you a piece of ripped paper only reading
" You look cooler without your mask ".
KÖNIG
- He raised an eyebrow when he saw you. Almost already knowing you were the type of person who would keep him mask on.
- Not like he cares or anything
- He would though keep an eye on you. Just in case.. Not like he's interested in seeing your face or anything.
- From watching to discreetly following you around. Just to make sure okay? It's nothing else.
- When he was following you today. He watched from the side when a few other soldiers with the same rank as you walked in beside you. Poking and prodding on why you have to hude your face in a mask? Did you look sexy bad you had to hide it?
- When you ignored or scolded them. They quickly got annoyed with you and tried removing you mask. Even when you tried to shove and fight them off they would eventually take off your mask anyway.
- König knows he should stop he was about to when they finally managed to take off your mask. And they all backed away from you in disgust evidently on their face.
- If you got angry or sad they would just back away from you again. They don't care you looked disgusting. If you tried to grab your mask from someone they'd back away from you while screaming at you to get away from them.
- König didn't notice your face. Well not yet anyway. He made his presence known in a booming voice as he dismissed the people who just assaulted you. They're still holding your mask
- You try to hide your face but. That didn't work. Even when König saw you. He saw your face. His face softening when he saw you.
- He walks up to you. Going on his knees to take your hands off your face. As he looks up at you softly. Holding your hands in his.
- He shouldn't judge. He didn't really care. You are his soldier and you took his interest. He talked to you softly sprinkling in praises about your face while he tries to comfort you.
PRICE
- He knew about your face. It was already mentioned in your information when he read your file. He was the one who let you in 141 anyway. And he didn't mind
- He had seen lots of injuries all varying in scales. So he didn't really mind your face
- Wether you knew that Price knew about your face or not. He would be the first to call you everytime in his office to talk.
- Just discreetly talking about you. Maybe get you to open up to him. Which would then eventually lead to you opening up to the rest of the team.
- He wanted you to feel comfortable and feel part of the team. Always.
- He told you he knew about your face. Any reactions from you would just let him make you sit down as he tries to be your personal therapist. Assuring you that no one would judge you. If anyone did. He would make sure that they would be punished.
GROMSKO
- He would eye you at first before trying to impress you. Well trying to impress all the new recruits. Always showing off how good he is in what he does.
- When he noticed you never got rid off your mask. Not even talking to anyone why you take off your mask. He had a great idea.
- His first plan with you was to get you to take off your mask to him. Just so he could show off that he was the lucky guy to see your face.
- So he made himself get comfortable with you. Hanging around you, talking to you, trying to scope you out so he could get your trust and take your mask off around him. Maybe he could get a sweet picture so he could have proof.
- He would talk to you alot. Almost everyday actually, he would make himself hang around you. Maybe even begging to be in the same missions with you. Just so he could....why'd he hang out with you again??.. ahh he forgot!
- He just suddenly.. started wanting to be close friends with you. Forgetting his original reason.
-That was when he only remembered his initial reason why he was friends with you. When you pulled him somewhere private and you asking him if he wanted to see your face.
- He got excited. Even more when he remembers why you guys were friends. But a slight guilt stung him when he remembers why. His first intentions were.. really selfish. But now he was really fond of you.
- But he nodded and when you took of your mask seeing your mouth. Of course he got shocked and to your dismay backed away from you.
- He cleared his throat when he realized that wasn't really.. a good reaction really..
- So he moved closer to you. Admiring your sharp teeth and mouth.
- He even asked you to show your tounge. Just as impressive.
- He grew even more and more fond of you. You let him touch your lower face. He takes off his own as well. Showing his face. As he held your face.
- He whispered something polish about you looking so unique.. so special?...
- Then he didn't know why but. He just..I dont know.. pressed his lips on yours.. Not like it meant anything..or something.. (it totally meant something)
824 notes · View notes
inbarfink · 9 months
Text
So when I wrote down that Big Undertale Meta Post about how Sans probably doesn’t remember RESETs at all and why that’s cool - I got a lot of responses to the tune of ‘that’s probably canon but I’m still gonna enjoy Sans Remember fics because of the angst’. And, well... first I want to emphasize that those are very good and correct responses! Like ‘I acknowledge might or might not be in the text but I am also gonna explore alternative ideas Because I Enjoy Them’ is a Good Damn Position to have! Transformative Fandom is Transformative on purpose! Engage with the text and it’s various analyses but don’t let it chain your creativity or fun!
It’s just that… all of the people saying that they prefer Sans Remembering ‘for the Angst’ make me think that maybe folks are kinda ignoring the incredible angst potential of Sans NOT remembering.
My original post focused on how cool it is that Sans manages to be so on-top-of-things even though he doesn’t remember anything - but let’s not ignore the fact that this situation is also grim as shit.
Through some mysterious super-science or whatever, Sans has managed to discover that his timeline is being RESET and altered constantly (before the Player came along, Flowey had already managed to basically 100% the entire Underground) and he has no memory of what's going on and what exactly is being altered. 
He knows he might’ve gone through the same day over and over and over again thousand times but he’s simply not aware of it. It’s all the helplessness and lack of forward momentum of a classic timeloop and none of the benefits of memorizing occurrences or acquiring extra information. That’s exactly the thing that drove him into his depressive spiral.
Tumblr media
That line always strikes me. It’s like… Sans suspects that without the meddling of capricious immortal time gods, he’d be a much happier and motivated person. But he doesn’t know for sure, because he can’t remember how he was in some distant ‘original timeline’. He is essentially fighting to avenge a version of himself that might not even be real.
Like, yes, it is very impressive and badass how well Sans trained himself to notice every tiny little hint that might indicate that a RESET happened - but it’s impressive because the deck is stacked so heavily against him. And it is very impressive and badass how Sans managed to turn his weaknesses into strengths during his Boss Battle - but it’s impressive because these are usually huge weaknesses. Trying to work to solve a timeloop that you can only infer is going on through context clues is quite a hopeless and desperate mission!
Another bit in the Sans fight that I often think about is his unique reaction if you kill him and then RESET to Fight him again.
Tumblr media
With how skilled he is at reading expressions, Sans probably knows what that ‘weird expression’ means, he knows the Player killed him once before and is here to try again. And yet he still goes along with the same attack plan he has, the one he knows killed him in that previous timeline. Why? Because he doesn’t know where the flaw in his plan was exactly, he can’t even begin to guess. So he has no choice but to go along with the plan he knows did kill him, because that’s the only thing he has. 
You know, the thing about Sans, is that he always plays his cards very close to his chest. It’s very hard to tell what exactly he’s thinking. That’s probably why so many people do believe he remembers RESET. If any non-Flowey character remembered RESETs, only Sans would be remotely able to hide it so well. But for me? It makes me wonder how much of his Troll who Knows Too Much persona is a bit of an act as well. 
You know, Sans’ deduction requires some keen observational skills - does he ever second-guess his conclusions? Living on constant high-alert that something has been reversed or that someone knows something they shouldn’t requires fostering a lot of paranoia, and that can’t be healthy for him. Is he ever overcome with doubt on whatever something was really an indication of a timeline RESET or not? How does he feel when he realizes something horrible happened on a previous timeline (for example, his brother dying) but he doesn’t know about the context to feel sure that he can stop it from happening again? 
I also think about it in terms of his relationship to Papyrus in general. Sans tends to hide so many things from Papyrus, especially in timelines where the Player is particularly kill-happy...
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In part it’s about his perception that Papyrus’ kindness and pacifism is born from naïveté and thus the only way to preserve it is to hide the cruelty and harshness of the world from him (Undyne also does that). But also, with the paranoia and helplessness Sans lives in every day - is it any wonder that he might believe that ignorance is bliss?
I do truly think it’s beautiful how fandom can experiment with cool non-canon ideas! There are probably so many great emotional angsty ideas tied up to Sans remembering RESETs! I just feel it’ll be a shame if people ignore just how dire and depressing Sans’ canon situation also is!
696 notes · View notes
alllgator-blood · 15 days
Note
We have had big shows of narinder, shamura, and kallamar angst. Heket hasn't been fully outright said but certainly implied and noticeable. What about the baby of the family
I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED ACTUALLY- I have a few comics that get into my idea for what Leshy Angst would be. They moreso tie into heket and shamura's angst as well but he's the first focus of this one specific comic I unfortunately never finished the sketches for...
I posted a few panels from this in a sketch dump a while ago, so here's the continuation of the comic I posted where leshy is flexing his incredible art skills (with a page taken out):
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[this is the part where the page is taken out, and also where I'm putting a cut cause this post is super long]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This dialogue/art is all subject to change but this is the base idea! This comic takes place on the one-year anniversary of the red crown schism, and is supposed to explore all of the bishops' relations to the stages of grief. Heket is denial, Leshy is anger, Kallamar is bargaining, Shamura is depression and Narinder is acceptance (lol). Leshy is actually the only one I got the sketches done for which is why I'm happy to hear you ask about him specifically! So in short, my leshy angst is basically him running around in circles screaming WHY WON'T ANYONE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!! WHY ARE YOU ALL ACTING LIKE IT'S OKAY THAT MY FACE IS GONE??? because everyone still sees him as you worded it in your ask, the baby of the family. They don't want to freak him out by saying he's never gonna get his eyes back, shamura as the sibs knew them is pretty much gone, and narinder will never stop hunting them down.
I have a heket angst comic that was supposed to be my first big project, but it got put on the backburner cause I was having trouble writing for it. It's pretty much entirely about her and shamura coming to terms with the fact they're gonna die soon, and making sure the brothers don't ever find out. Leshy and heket's angst directly ties into each other, because one of them is desperate to protect the other and the one being protected does NOT want that.
Tumblr media
This is close to the end but there's still more after this part, I have....SO MUCH to say about these comics but I probably shouldn't infodump about my ideas all at one or I'll run out of shit to talk about
177 notes · View notes
teeny-tiny-revenge · 2 months
Text
It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)
After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.
It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.
Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)
DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.
OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:
Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!
Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!
Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!
Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.
Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.
Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!
... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.
So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!
I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)
I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.
Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):
It plays Gnossienne N°5!
More crappy pics of my other disc menus:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)
281 notes · View notes
Text
Rigor Mortis (part 8)
College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader
Tumblr media
(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,
Part 7, Part 9
summary: You visit your ex. Miguel tags along.
warnings: mentions and description of depression. heavy angst, depictions of a toxic relationship. some suggestive language.
a/n: me when idk shit abt the american school system:
Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3
Join my taglists here
wc: 5.8k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
you had forgotten; they were good.
Blank walls. Quiet corridors. The buzz of monitors and dull chatter sandwiched between blue vinyl and exit signs. You're not usually one to wander during your breaks; but you're going crazy looking at the same four walls. 
That hair net itches and the strap of a blue mask digs into skin as you make your way to a little courtyard. You sit out on a paltry bench overlooking concrete. The spindly remnants of a tree provides little cover from harsh elements. Wind whips through its branches, whistling and cool, as you rip off the mask and crumple it up in your pocket. A heavy sigh, and you feel some semblance of peace. Some quiet, before the morning comes. Before a rush of orders and shunting plastic trays up and down the wards. 
You screw your eyes shut to still the pounding at your temples. God. You're grateful for the job, really. And all things considered, it's not particularly taxing: coffee orders until the little cafe closes, meal prep for the morning rush, and sometimes you'd volunteer to take orders to bed bound patients. A whole lot of reheating and chopping and pressing buttons on the little machines. You don't quite get it, of course, but your lone coworker picks up the slack well enough. 
The older woman doesn't do much for company, anyways. Riveting conversation comes in the form of grunts and sharp elbows when you get in the way or round the corner of the kitchen. It has you counting down the seconds until your shift ends. 
And so you are grateful, well and truly. Jamie's not so sappy, anymore; doesn't partake in 'I love you's or grand gestures; but he is dependable. Safe. Willing to stick his neck out for you, at least. He'd gotten you a job at the hospital he has his placement at; with decent pay, and it slots in well with your other ones. He's taking you seriously – taking the news better than your parents. After telling him you wanted to go back to school, you're not met with thinly veiled disbelief, or lips pressed together with pity. He'd nodded, rather simply. Didn't make a fuss. No deep sighs, or heavy frowns. Okay , he had said. How can I help? 
It was the simplicity of his reaction that had bowled you over, almost bringing you to tears. To have someone believe in you, for once – wholeheartedly and without an onslaught of questions – felt like a deep breath of air after almost drowning. It felt like love ; and after desperate breaths, gasping and gulping and clawing at something to hold on to, you think you've found dry land. Something solid, something stable; a rough palm to pull you out of swirling depths. Because, unlike your family, and unlike half-hearted friends: Jamie was there. 
After heading back in to catch the morning rush, you're wiping down surfaces and sorting plastic trays onto a cart. Rote, repetitive, boring; you've settled into a routine that feels familiar. A couple more months, you reckon, and you'll be able to cover the costs for a second go at undergrad. You can shed the skin that seems to follow you at every family gathering, and the job interviews in between. Dropout – and when your Mom says it, it feels like a vile curse. Jamie calls it spiteful, and you opt for the democratic alternative; she's being dramatic - rather than cruel, rather than hurtful, rather than crass. You've heard enough, from all sorts: ‘too much pressure’, and ‘didn't think she had it in her, anyways’, are common phrases whispered in the background of phone calls home. 
Your chest aches with the weight of it – the kind of ache that seeps into skin, and lines a casket. Grief; mourning a person you could've been, and a person you never would be. For a while, it left you paralysed by the what ifs and the maybes; rotting in a quiet corner. Sinking into sofa cushions or caked onto the bed sheets like the mystery mould bloomed onto the plates in your room. But Jamie was there, more than anyone else. 
You'll wait for him in the corridor near the back of the service elevator, like you always do after a shift. You finish when he starts, early in the morning and rubbing away sleep from his eyes for ward rounds. You'll give him a kiss, and he'll give you a soft little smile to send you on your way. It almost makes the whole thing worth it. Almost. 
You give and you give and you give. Your boyfriend isn't quite the same; doesn't pour into you the way you'd like him to. But it works. It works because it has to; a thousand miles away from anything resembling home. You can't ask for more – the right words die in your throat. 
~~~
You've spent the past couple of hours in the library. Procrastinating for at least half of it, but you've managed to draft out a couple of essays and more or less reorganise your life. It's something you've been dreading for the past week or so; letting yourself get swept up in the monsoon that is your roommate. Miguel – sarcastic, saccharine-sweet Miguel – and his stupidly pretty lips, his pretty hands, and the pretty way he scrunches up his face like he's smelt something rotten. 
You're staring at a computer with a slew of books spread out on the adjacent desk. Your half-finished report seems to jumble together on the screen; a tangle of citations and filler words and shitty diagrams. It's not quite clicking , and it's making you want to tear out chunks of your hair in search of relief. A tale as old as time, one you can merely wallow in and fold yourself between its pages. Struggling at school; and this time it's a stats module you thought would be an easy couple of credits, that you definitely can’t afford to fail if you want to graduate early. 
You’ve picked a quiet spot on the third floor; a computer bay tucked into the corner. It overlooks a little window, cramped and claustrophobic and mystery mould in the corners of its grout. You've resorted to scanning the cracks with sharp eyes, light fingers on your neck to trace the leftovers of the morning. You can see it in the slightly mirrored surface of cloudy glass; you look like shit, you feel like shit, but you can still feel him. Lips on your neck, sucking soft hickies into the skin; and you can't help but like the way it looks on you. It's the same under your jeans, blooming like mauve and purple heather on a sprawling field.
You cross your legs, wincing at the dull ache that spreads. Sore, in that way that feels good; sending flashes of a morning with Miguel. Fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and the heat of him – cut and lean-lined – on top of you; it's impossible to ignore. Condensation drips from the panes, pooling in its corner and you swipe a finger in it, lazily. Again, you're reminded of him, for the thousandth time in the past hour: shaking legs, fisting his cock, spraying fat globs of his cum onto your face and chest. 
With another glimpse of your reflection, you sigh. Deep and heavy, with the weight of half a decade of frustration, sexual or otherwise. You've never felt this good or had your needs satiated so wholly, so exorbitantly. It feels odd. You don't know where to put your hands, how to place your feet on the floor. Do you shout, do you scream? How do you tell all the poor bystanders that scatter the third floor: I'm sleeping with Miguel O'Hara! A walking red flag with cheekbones that could cut glass! He wants me, and I want–
Your phone rings. The noise catches you off guard, and has you stumbling to press accept. 
"Hey," Miguel's voice sounds tinny in the speakers, and so you press it to your ears. 
"Y-Yeah?" You steel yourself, batting away daydreams of your legs wrapped around his middle – too horny for your own good, clearly. 
"I'm outside, chula. " He stops talking. The quiet ticking of an indicator becomes the only sign of life, before he says, "In that parking bay by the–" 
"I know, I know. Give me 5 minutes." You rush to pack up, clicking off the monitor and haphazardly shoving your notes into your bag. Not everything fits, and you give up trying to cram that textbook in. 
A beat passes before you realise he's still on the phone. Quiet, but still there. 
"…I brought food, by the way." 
You only just manage to catch it, slotting the phone between your ear and shoulder. That makes you perk up. 
" Seriously? " You give him a small laugh. You think you can hear him smile through the phone. "Thank fucking God, I'm starving. But you weren't rushing, or anything, right? I mean, it's so soon after your session with… Sally, or–" 
You're bounding down two steps at a time, so eager to see him – to get food , actually – that you're careless going down the stairs.
"Sarah . " He breathes, and you make your way downstairs. 
It stops you in your tracks, for some reason. 
"Okay. Sarah ." You say it with finality, voice tight. "What did you end up doing anyways? At her place, you said?" 
"Pressure differentials. Modelling viscosity. It's not very interesting." He hums, shifting in his seat. "What about you? Did you get something done?" 
You take a beat too long to respond, and it comes out half-baked. 
"Loads, Mig."
He snorts. " Sure. "
" Fuck you. " You say it under your breath, ducking past the entrance, and into a side road.
And there Miguel is, car heaped onto part of the sidewalk. He's leaning back, lazy arm sticking out the car window, showing off muscle and pretty tan skin. It's getting cold, but he's cracked the car door ajar; donned in a well-fitting t-shirt and slack trousers. 
You're trying not to drool; and he makes it a little easier by flashing a shit-eating grin. 
Childishly, you stick your tongue out; wrenching the door open and slumping into the passenger side. You tuck your things by your feet, and it lands on the floor with a thump. 
"You can put your stuff in the back.. . " Miguel frowns.
" Can't. We need the space, remember?" 
To pick up the rest of your things left in your ex's apartment. You hope he can parse out the rest of that from a raised eyebrow. 
He sighs, tossing a brown bag of takeout onto your lap. He starts the car. "...I didn't think we were still doing that, to be honest."
He seems disappointed, eyes flitting this way and that as he reverses and pulls out. You must've hit your head at some point, because you're in heat – pressing sore legs together at the way he does it. One arm on the back of your headrest, sharp jaw jutting out as he looks back, and bottom lip hooked under his teeth; he's just concentrating, trying not to hit one of the cat-sized rodents that roam the streets this late at night, and he's still hot . 
"You promised ."
"I had my face between your thighs. Would've said anything if it meant I could have more."
You draw your lips in faux disgust – your heart's not in it, but it's enough to make him chuckle. 
"Fuck you."
He doesn't miss a beat, deadpanning, "...you'd like that."
Lips pursed, you ignore the way it twists your stomach into knots. Steadfast, you stare out at the window, watching the yellow lights of a bustling city pass you by. 
Miguel takes a different turning, one that'll take you across the city and away from your place. To Jamie's, most likely. You soften, taking a moment to look across at him. 
His eyes flit over, intense and almost a deep red in the neon and lights. It's barely a couple of seconds, but he knows, just like that. 
"Are you nervous?" He tests the waters, voice steady and non-committal. It's not an accusation; even though everything feels like one, lately. Not from him, though. Never from him. 
" No ." Your tone is betraying, and you both know it. He seems to pretend not to hear that tremor in your voice. 
"You'll be okay, sweetheart." He says it soft and low, not quite looking at you. 
"It's just… it's the first time I'm going to see him after–" Your voice crackles. "After everything."
"You'll be okay," He starts. It doesn't feel like an empty platitude when he says it: it feels genuine and full-bodied and sonorous, clanging around your head like the chime of church bells. "Probably not right away – it's going to hit you like a semi, first. And you'll feel like shit afterwards. But it won't last. You'll move on, and you'll be okay; because you have to be."
He drifts off somewhere far away when he says that last bit; and you're not too sure what he's talking about anymore. Regardless, you wrap his words around you, holding it to your chest like a little songbird in the cradle of a tree. 
You'll be okay. You have to be. 
It feels less solid when it's not Miguel saying it, you think. You don't tell him that, though, sinking into the seat instead. 
He doesn't let that silence sit for too long. Traffic creates a natural lull, and he reaches over to tap at the book in your lap – one of many different textbooks, the rest of which is lodged in your bag.
"You're taking a stats module, I assume."
You nod. 
"With Dr. Karev?" 
You sit up slightly. "...yeah, actually."
He hums. "You thought it would be an easy A, then." 
He's right, but it doesn't make it sting any less. You were hoping for simple math and data processing, and here you were: drowning in matrices and linear algorithms.
 "I thought it would be."
"Let me help you, then. I took one of his classes and he barely changes the syllabus. I could dig up my old notes, and–" 
"You want to tutor me ?" You splutter – but you don't mean to sound as shocked as you do. " Why? " 
"Why not?" He shrugs. 
"I… I don't have any money, or anything."
"M'not offering because I want money." He's nonchalant, inching towards the car up front. 
You squint. It's not adding up. "What's the catch?" 
"No catch, I swear. Is it so hard to believe I'm being nice?" 
Now, you feel guilty. "Sorry, Mig. I appreciate it, I really do–" 
"Sit on my face and we'll call it even."
He turns to you now, face flat but with a twinkle in his eye. The corners of his mouth are slightly upturned - amused. He thinks this is funny? 
You give him a light shove as the traffic starts to break up. He's riled you up, now, and you're much too annoyed to be nervous. 
"Eyes on the road, asshole." 
It's more bark than bite, and you settle into the seat, finally cracking open the paper bag. You munch on fries and it makes him laugh. Miguel swears he can see it: the hint of a gentle smile on your face. 
~~~
He pulls up to the apartment complex. Modest, close to the hospital; and you probably couldn't have afforded to live there without your ex. Jamie was lucky; his parents could foot the bill of moving out, and he had family that lived in the city. 
It feels odd to be on the outside looking in. The building's windows become snapshots into other people's lives. For some, it meant an early night, blinds drawn and lights off. From the parking lot, you can see the dim yellow of lights streaming through other apartments. Silhouettes flit past every now and then; the only sign of life. 
Jamie's apartment is on the top floor, the two windows on the far right. You crane your head out of the car window, to get a better look. The lights are on, with one window left slightly ajar. 
Miguel moves to get out, with shuffling that breaks the silence. You stop him with a hand on his arm. 
"No, no. I'm going up by myself."
He cocks his head to the side, ever so slightly. 
"...you sure? If you need help shifting boxes, I can–" 
"I'm good, Mig. I just needed the car."
It comes out snappier than you meant it to, already irritable. With that, you pop the door open with a thunk . You can't see it, but he frowns, watching you swish and sway towards the entrance. 
You trace familiar steps to Jamie's apartment. The door code hasn't changed, and so you buzz yourself in. This is something you can do quickly and efficiently, you've decided. In and out, and you don't have the energy for much else. Bracing at the door, you get ready to knock, hand curled into a fist. 
The door swings open before you get the chance. He's there; still in light blue scrubs and a name badge pinned to his chest. It's the first thing you see, trying not to look at his face. But it's like pulling teeth, you decide: less painful when it's quick and sharp. 
" Where's my –" 
" Your stuff's in the –" 
In a great clash of words, you finally look up at him. Where you're expecting some form of emotion – a flash of something, even for just a moment – Jamie is steadfast. Blank; blinking back sleep, if anything. You clamp down what feels like bile rising in your throat and push past him into the front room. 
"Is this how it's going to be?"
Head down, you grit a quiet, "Don't . "
It's just as you left it, to the point it's almost comical. The same pillows you'd bury yourself in after work, the patterned tea towel you'd bought on a whim. The bar stools in lieu of a proper dining table, and that great big desk he had insisted on carting to the living room for years . Bits and pieces of you, of your relationship, and he barely bats an eye. He'll use your mugs and sleep on your patterned sheets. 
It makes you sick .
You head to the second room. There's a stack of boxes, hastily stashed in the corner. There's still permanent marker on them from when you first moved in. Now, it houses the things you couldn't take with you the first time – everything you left behind. 
Sick, sick, sick . 
You take a moment to dig through the top box, that's clearly been moved. Knick-knacks, books, clothes and all the clutter you've acquired; and it reminds you of family, it reminds you of friends. 
Jamie leans by the doorway, looking on in silence. 
When you pick up a box, straining to lift it, he doesn't offer to help. He watches as you flounder, dragging it towards the door. 
You're huffing when he finally says something; something that's clearly been on his mind for a while, with the way he says it. 
"Are you seeing someone?" He's looking out of the window, gaze fixed on the car parked outside. Miguel's car. 
Your eyes widen. You don't quite trust yourself to speak.
You leave the box by the door. "Are you?“
He shrugs. "Don't have the time."
It's noncommittal and frustratingly blasé. He's not giving you much, and it's fucking with your head. This whole thing feels like a big joke – he wants to talk, and all he's doing is asking bullshit questions. Once upon a time, you would've stewed in it; sat with that question on your tongue and let it rot. 
"I don't understand." You croak. It hurts to say out loud, but you say it. That's the important part. "I don't know why you're doing this… why are you still doing this?"
"I don't like how we left things." He says it slow, like he's choosing his words carefully. 
You want to scream.
" So? " 
" So , I need some kind of closure. We've got unfinished business."
" Unfinished business? " You roll it around on your tongue, reeling at its bitter taste. It feels clinical and lifeless, yet again. 
And then… oh. It clicks. Looking at him, arms folded and leaning on a wall, he looks antsy and uncomfortable. Now, when forced to face you. 
" Closure. " Another word that tastes like shit. You give a watery laugh. "You feel guilty."
He doesn't say anything but his body language says enough. He shifts his weight side to side, unable to make eye contact. 
You don't bother to stick around for an answer, snatching up the box as best you can. Through the doors, and down the corridor. You stagger down the flight of stairs, gritting your teeth. It's heavy – you've packed as much as you can inside, trying to get this over quickly – and you make it to the first floor before it clatters onto the steps. 
You fold ; knees drawn to your chest and hands tight in your hair. Heart racing, chest pumping: you're trying not to get swept away by heavy emotions. The tide rises. You pump your legs around the swirling mass - barely staying afloat in deep, deep water. 
You'll be okay. 
You remember Miguel's words, gentle and sweet and kind. You remember the way he said it; firmly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. The kind of grace that you don't have to work for and doesn't need a performance. He believes in you, at least; thinks you're stronger than you have any right to be. And you think of him in the car: eager to help and reassure. You brushed him off. You were mean. 
Deep breath. 
Miguel's waiting for you, just outside those doors. Diligent and patient, saccharine-sweet Miguel. Getting up, you make your way down the stairs with that box. 
When he spots you, a pretty little thing in a hoodie and jeans, he leaps out of the car. 
"Hey, hey, easy… " 
"I'm good, Mig – " 
You're struggling with the box, and he eases it out of your hands without breaking a sweat. One hand on the boot of the car, the other holding up the heavy box effortlessly, and he gives you a quick once over. 
"...he didn't offer to help?" His face is scrunched up - disgusted by the looks of it - and all you can manage is a limp shrug. 
It doesn't take him long to figure it out. You're dejected; nervous, down-trodden, blue in every meaning of the word; losing a little bit of that shine you had started the day with. If he had to guess, and he knows you well enough he'd bet money on it, it was that ex of yours – stealing away that light in a burlap sack, a thief in the brilliance of bright sun. 
It makes him grind his teeth, eyes flicking up at the fourth floor window. 
"I could help." He offers, a hand on your shoulder. It's your favourite hoodie, he thinks, as he circles the soft fabric with his thumb. 
You purse your lips, thinking it over. 
"It'll be quicker, chula. "
That pushes you over the edge, and you finally nod. 
It must be a sight, knocking at the door with Miguel hot on your heels. After living with him for so long, you've forgotten how intimidating he can be when you first meet him; taller than Jamie, and mean-mugging the blonde with a deadly look. If you weren't so on edge it would make you laugh: you know your roommate is mostly harmless. 
Jamie doesn't, of course. He visibly bristles, looking you both up and down. 
"I just need some help with the boxes. This is my roommate, Miguel."
You turn to the man beside you.
" Miguel ," You say it softer. "This is Jamie."
Wordlessly, he stretches out a palm,
rough and broad and tan. Hesitant, the man in front of you takes it. 
"Hey, man." Jamie flashes you a strange look when he says it. 
Miguel doesn't answer. 
You lead him to the second room, divvying up the boxes as Jamie hovers at the doorway. It's surprisingly efficient: Miguel insists on taking the heaviest boxes, hauling them up onto his shoulders, before stacking them up at the door. You'll take the smaller stuff, and it seems everything will be done in far fewer trips than before. It's hard to say out loud, but you're grateful for his help – Miguel was right , for once. 
After the first trip, he's bounding back up the stairs for more. You've both made it into a game, with neither one of you having to explain the rules. He pinches your arm whilst you sift through boxes, and you stick your tongue out in response. Elbow deep in crap, and he manages to make it feel a little better. 
Jamie stews. Jamie festers. In a corner of what used to be your shared apartment, he pretends to tap at his phone, uninterested. You know him too well for that facade to stick. 
Miguel takes the last of the boxes down, and you're straggling behind, picking up the last few bits and pieces. You're left alone with your ex, for a brief moment. 
"You're fucking him." He says it quiet, in a whisper that sounds oh-so loud in that little room. Fucking. He spits it out, and makes the word feel cheap and dirty. 
You look up from across the room. Slowly, he traverses its width, gaze pinning you down like a bug under a microscope. 
He brings a hand to your chin, cupping the flesh tenderly. It's intimate and familiar, reminding you of better days. Something bubbles up in your stomach, sweet and innocent. That feeling doesn't last long. 
"You're fucking him." 
It's accusatory, spat out with a rueful smile pulling at his lips. His fingers brush over your throat and you squirm, pulling up the mouth of your hoodie. 
Those hickies, blossoming like flowers in the spring. They crackle across your skin like fallen leaves in autumn. 
"It's none of your fucking business."
"Of course you are. I can't believe you." He rolls his eyes, half-laughing. "I was going to apologise! I was planning to say sorry for the way I handled things and you had to rub it in my face."
" What ?" You croak. 
"You brought the guy you're fucking to our apartment!" He explodes. 
His lips flatten into a tight line.
" ...now it's our apartment? You kicked me out. You dumped me ." 
"Don't…. fuck , don't do that. Don't make me the bad guy, here. I gave you plenty of time to find a new place."
"Two. Weeks." You grit. "You gave me two weeks, asshole. You left me alone, and told me to fend for myself whilst you fucked off to your sister's." 
That fire dies down as he hesitates. "I… I would've let you stay longer. You know that, baby."
" No. No I don't know, 'cuz you don't tell me shit , anymore." You blink back hot tears. "I don't make as much money as you do, and my family can't support me like yours can."
"I would've–" 
"You didn't. " You swallow roughly. "You didn't. I don't even know what I did wrong ."
"No, no." He cradles your face with his hands, swiping at stray tears. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Now, you look up at him. With glistening eyes, and a heavily furrowed brown, it barely comes out as a whisper; red-raw and strained. 
"Then why don't you love me?"
He doesn't deny it. There isn't a scramble to reassure you; to pat your head and kiss away tears to show you how much he cares. Instead, he steps away guiltily. 
"I care about you, of course I do. Remember when you changed your major?" 
You nod. 
"I was there, wasn't I? I stayed up for hours talking you through it. And when you dropped out, I came over on the weekends and brought you groceries."
"I was there. I helped you through that funk , and helped you get that job for school. Every stupid little question, every depressive episode, all those moments where no-one else would help: I did. Even though I had other things going on in my life, I showed up. For you. It was enough, for a while."
Until it wasn't. He sighs. 
"I'm starting my residency next year… and you're still in school, right?”
“Yes, I am.” You say it simply, not able to say much more without breaking down.
“I'm happy for you, really - proud that you actually got that far. But we're going in different directions, and at different paces. It's easier now that we're not together.”
You bristle at his tone: still in school, actually got that far . It oozes pomp and a quiet kind of superiority. Easier now, like it was difficult before. 
“I didn't make that decision because I hate you, or because I don't care about you. I know you're angry.” He places his hands on your shoulders, and doesn't break eye contact. For the first time since you got here, you think he's finally showing emotion; quiet melancholy just below the surface. Up this close, you can see it: deepening bags under his eyes, sallow skin, and fine lines. Jaime looks tired. In fact, he seems exhausted .  
“I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. But that doesn't excuse the fact that you brought your fuck buddy here, when I just wanted to talk.”
It feels cruel. The way he looks at you, and the way his demeanour switches from the Jamie you knew before, to this .  
"I wanted to talk." You strain. " Months ago. After you broke up with me, and disappeared off the face of the planet. Every time I called, crying and panicking, it went straight to voicemail." 
You shake his hands off of you, stepping back. 
"Miguel's a friend… did you ever think of that? Maybe I just needed some help moving my things, Jamie. Maybe I don't have that many friends since they stopped talking to me because of you, Jamie. Maybe, there's not some devious plot to spite you."
You pick up the rest of your stuff, a little basket of trinkets and books. The very same books that he had told you to pack up; to make some space for his textbooks. 
"Get your head out of your ass. Don't call me. Don't text me. I'm done. "
You're already halfway out of the door. With that, you start to storm off; clattering into Miguel by the stairs. When your things spill out of your hands, you both drop to your knees in a scramble to pick them up. You're chewing the inside of your cheek so hard it draws blood, fumbling around. Miguel is more efficient, scooping up your belongings back into its box. 
You're drooping, only able to mutter a quiet thanks. On the way to his car, you're dejected. Miguel watches carefully, trailing behind. 
~~~
He doesn't know what to say. 
You've left him speechless before. Many times, in the span of your couple months together. Miguel recalls it in exasperated messages to Lyla; you're something else entirely. Frustrating, sometimes. Quick-witted. Perceptive. Thoughtful. A million and one words to describe you, and yet, it still doesn't paint the full picture. You are multi-faceted and brilliant in a way he's not sure he completely understands. 
[Sent: 22:33]
Can't explain it, Ly. 
[Sent: 22:33]
I'm going fucking crazy. 
[Received: 22:34]
ur being dramatic :p
[Received: 22:34]
think u just need to get laid 
[Sent: 22:34]
Fuck off. 
[Sent: 22:35]
I said I'm taking a break. Meant it. 
[Received: 22:37]
(image attached) 
[Received: 22:37]
got this at the party
[Received: 22:37]
ur staring, mig
[Sent: 22:38]
… 
[Received: 22:38]
that's my dress! told u I have great taste :)) 
[Received: 23:06]
miggyyy
[Received: 23:06]
stop ignoring me! its not fun anymore >:(
That was a while ago. Before anything serious happened between you both. And he's had the privilege of seeing you in many different ways; stressed, angry, beaming with joy. Bouncing off the walls after too much coffee, or crawling out of bed following a late night. He's seen your lips curve to form a delicious O as you writhe underneath him; he's seen you smile. He'd tattoo it onto his skin, if he could. 
Fuck . He's overthinking it. 
You've retired to your spot on the couch, and yes, he's staring. Tracing the slope of your jaw and the tilt of nose outlined by the glow of the TV. After getting back home late, he brushed off limp protests and took most of the boxes up himself. It sits in a pile by the dining table. You'll deal with it tomorrow, he supposes. 
Retreating behind your ratty blanket, you stare blankly at the screen. Glassy eyes, you've curled up to watch reruns late into the night. Can't sleep, you told him, as he hovered by the doorway. 
He should go to bed. It's nothing to do with him, really, and he shouldn't have overheard as much as he did. Miguel is curious but not nosy, and well-versed on the art of minding your business . So he shouldn't feel his heart splintering; creaking like the trunk of a felled tree; hacked into two by the way he sees you drowning. 
He sits by your side. Not too close, of course, he's wary of all the shit you've been through today; not wanting to make you feel more uncomfortable. 
He's reminded of a childhood holiday. Half a summer spent at a campsite, bounding through woodland and creeks somewhere up north. Gabi and him would disappear, forgoing the beaten paths for their own adventure. Miguel couldn't make friends the way his brother could, so he'd straggle behind; watching from afar as the other kids would climb trees or swim in quiet lakes. Reading by the banks, and he remembers a time someone had slipped under the water. Drowning, and it wasn't anything like the movies. It was quick, silent and deadly. Thrashing under choppy water, and then…
…nothing. Just quiet. 
He feels that panic rising now, watching you stay so eerily still. You've slipped under the waves, and he doesn't know what to say to pull you back out. 
Miguel isn't too good with words. He's not known for his warmth, or comforting presence. Sometimes, he thinks he wasn't built with that switch turned on in his head – and he certainly didn't learn the right words from his parents. And so, he gives you comfort the only way he knows how. He shows you. He takes care of you. 
You come to him. Like two parts of a whole, you slot together perfectly: your head on his shoulder, at first. You end up on his chest, curled up like a housecat; matching shaky breaths to his steady ones. He brings a hand to your shoulder, drawing lazy circles in the fabric to soothe you. 
With the dull chatter and gloom of the TV, you fall asleep. It takes Miguel a little longer, but he wraps his arms around you. He listens out for it: the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Steady, like a metronome, and it grounds him – drowning out the creak of gears. 
_
_
_
Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka
@delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs @bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote
665 notes · View notes
lazycats-stuff · 3 months
Note
Hello author. I hope your having a splendid day
May I request a reader x batfamily ( a year younger than Damian)
They are a Demi god of lightning and electricity.
He has been having a hard time with cases and failing and stuff like that, too much pressure. And he’s kind of hitting his breaking point.
So during a fight with a villain, alone. The villain corrupts the reader and makes him evil.
For a few months he became a villain and barely anyone could stop him. The batfamily at first didn’t know it was him but during a mission that was orders by the villain that corrupted him, to kill Althea (your oc) but Althea got away with injures but saw his face and told her mom and her mom told bats.
So with this new information the batfamily were more devastated .
With the help of the justice league the batfamily are in a show down with the reader, somewhere near a cliff and they fight and while also talking about their memories together. Reader was too powerful though and restrains everyone with use his electricity. His eyes are red and with dead eyes he walks towards any batfamily member of your choice and was about to deliver the final blow before the bat member looks at them and says ‘ I love you, my son/little brother’ reader hesitates and his eyes widens and filled with tears, the red disappearing.
He’s of course confused and disoriented, he steps back and not notices the cliff. His mind coming back to me as he slowly lets his restaions of the others disappear. He steps back near the cliff and looks back into the abyss and back at his family and friends. With regret and a messed up mind right now thinking he won’t be forgiven, he purposely steps back and fall down the cliff. No one was fast enough to stop his fall and he dies.
They retrieve his body and they’re just depressed and stuff for a while hut Damian won’t allow his only little sibling to die and takes his body to talia and he gets revived back.  when he brings unconscious reader back, the batfamily are upset at him for doing a dangerous act but happy that it went well.
Sorry it’s too long.
Hi anon, I hope you have have a splendid day too. Also, don't worry about the length. Lets go.
Summary: (Y/N) gets taken and is broken. The family has to save him.
Warnings: angst, fluff, SUICIDE- read at your own risk everyone!, near death of another character, the fam is suffering...
Tumblr media
(Y/N) Wayne, the youngest child in the family and the only child who isn't really human. He is a demigod you see, a demigod of lighting and electricity. I think you can guess that his biological dad is Zeus. Because of it, he got close to Wonder Woman her daughter, Althea. He liked them both and he didn't mind hanging out with them.
He was a good detective too. Bruce was happy and proud, but made sure he wasn't over working himself and neglecting himself like, ahem, Tim. He was different from the rest of the family too. He didn't really have a traumatic past. His mom left him, but the Justice League and Bruce took care of him.
He was really close with his brothers too. Jason and Dick made sure he didn't overwork himself, Tim was fascinated with his powers and how they worked and Damian liked to just hang out with him in general. (Y/N) is the only person he liked and tolerated.
But times have shifted a little bit. (Y/N) was overworked and he was just dead inside. The pressure to solve the cases was piling and piling on and while (Y/N) knew that Bruce wouldn't mind if he took a break, he knew it wouldn't fit his own image. He would be disappointed in him, although not outwardly, inwardly.
He was nearing his breaking his point. He hid it well from the others, not wanting to disappoint them or worry them. He worked himself to the bone, closing in and refusing to open up. He knew he needed to do this and solve this. These cases need to be solved one way or another.
One way or another. It was time to get this shit over with and to do this as best as he can. He needs to get as far away from this pressure and from this breaking point as soon as possible. ASAP. Bruce explained to him that whenever he is nearing that point, he should take a break, but there are people depending him to solve this shit.
(Y/N) hated this shit more than anything else in the world. He really wanted to get this over with. Frustration, anger, sadness... He really wants to feel happy...
Is that so wrong to feel and wish for.
(Y/N) knew that he had to tell someone. Maybe Wonder Woman and Althea would be a better option to talk to, but those two were raised as warriors and they probably don't put emotions on the first place. Mental health is a difficult area to navigate. (Y/N) didn't even sleep from time to time, for a few days, school also being a big overwhelming factor in this stuff. He had good grades, not a straight A student, but still a good student. That was more than enough for Bruce who simply says to do your best in school.
If (Y/N)'s grades dropped, then Bruce would've caught on. Really caught on and he would force (Y/N) to stop with the cases and patrol.
(Y/N) knew it was a bad idea to do this. But there was nobody to help him in this fight. It's said that every single batkid has his own villains. Well, (Y/N) could fricking confirm it. This bastard was a pain in his ass for him and for the rest of the family. (Y/N) was thrown into the wall and he grunted as he tried to get up.
It was difficult, but he managed to do it.
He glared at the villain, clenching his fist. He could feel electricity coursing through his veins, out right refusing to back down. He could feel his eyes turning electric blue. The villain used his powers to disappear into the shadows, making (Y/N) scowl.
" Did you really come here alone? " The villain said from the shadows, making (Y/N) look around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. He really didn't like this at all.
" That is brave. Coming here alone to face me. " (Y/N) scowled more as he heard mocking tone in his voice, knowing that facing alone this type of villain is not good and not advisable. (Y/N) threw some electricity at the villain.
He didn't know whether or not he has hit him, but he moved, not wanting to stay somewhere where he could be a sitting duck and more so an easy target for the villain. Shadow and darkness is a scary place and although his family could often be found in it, (Y/N) thought of them as some sort of beacons of light. Sure, they were dark figures, but they were bringing hope and justice.
That sounds like a paradox or oxymoron, but it was true. But being a person in the darkness and shadows and being evil... Yeah... Not good. Really not good.
(Y/N) turned his head when he heard something behind him, but that was a distraction. The real blow came from the front, leaving (Y/N) no time to react as he was thrown into the darkness and into the shadows. (Y/N) couldn't get his bearings together and he was panicking now. He had to get out of this cloud of darkness. He really had to.
He had to.
He started walking, hands reaching out to try and feel where a wall is. Everything was dark and he had no idea where he was going. One guess would be hell, one would be the exit for this stupid building. (Y/N) hoped that he was on his way to the exit, but hey, you can't have it all, can you?
(Y/N) pushed on, but screamed only a few moments later when the shadows pulled him in, invading his mind, breaking through his defenses easily. NO! Fighting was futile though, (Y/N) knew it. (Y/N) knew that very well.
" Just surrender. It will be easier. " The voice said and (Y/N) knew that he couldn't fight and with the last bit of resistance, (Y/N) allowed the darkness to take over his mind.
For now, it was over.
The entire family was loosing their collective minds and their shit. Each in their own way. Some were silent, but some were more emotional and taking it out on criminals. Ahem, Jason. Bruce was quiet and worked non stop to to find his youngest son, his child. Alfred was on the verge of killing someone.
It was difficult to even function normally without their family member. Also, there is another problem on the horizon. A new villain was on the prowl and he was good. Bruce saw he had a lot of training that was far too good for some amateur.
What the hell is going on here?
Bruce was overworked and asked Wonder Woman and Superman to try to locate this new villain because his son was a far more bigger priority than some stupid villain coming to their scene so to speak. Bruce had no time or patience for it.
If only Bruce knew.
Wonder Woman and Superman were doing a good job at tracking the new villain, making sure to communicate with Batman and offer comfort whenever they could. They would often see their nephews, trying to bring some comfort to the poor boys who lost their brother.
For a few months, there were no clues, nothing. Not about a new villain, not about (Y/N) either. Bruce was on the edge of an abyss and he can't do anything to stop himself from going over the edge. A little push was needed and then he would be long gone in that aspect.
The entire batfamily was at the Justice League HQ, looking through intel. Wonder Woman and Superman were in the middle of presenting the intel they managed to obtain when Althea burst through the doors, falling down on her knees, making Wonder Woman gasp before running towards her daughter.
" Althea! " She said, clearly worried and Bruce walked up to the duo, trying to see if Althea is okay.
" Mom, it's (Y/N)... " She said before coughing up more blood, making the inside of her mouth red.
" What about (Y/N)? " Bruce asked quickly, hoping she would stay awake and conscience long enough for him to know. Everyone was waiting patiently for Althea to start.
" (Y/N) is the villain. " She said, coughing even more and Wonder Woman picked her up and ran towards the medical wing of the HQ.
When Wonder Woman left, the room was shrouded in silence. Tense and palpable. Bruce had to sit down. No. No. (Y/N) couldn't have... Dick wiped his eyes as he started crying softly. Bruce broke out of his trance and quickly hugged his sons in a big group hug.
" I know... " Bruce said, pausing to compose himself. " But now we know that (Y/N) is alive. He is somewhat okay. " Bruce said as he swallowed with a bit of difficulty.
(Y/N) was alive. (Y/N) IS alive. They will bring their brother and son home. No matter what.
Well, (Y/N) got stronger during his kidnapping. His eyes were red and nobody could even get close to him. Tim and Dick were unable to move from being restrained by electricity and the other three members were trying everything they could fricking think of. Everything. They have tried to awake his memories. From when he was little, from when they did stupid pranks... Anything they could think of.
Nothing worked.
Soon enough, everyone was restrained with electricity and (Y/N) looked like he was going to kill them. Bruce watched his son as he walked over to him, ready to finish him. Bruce watched in silence as (Y/N) was ready to kill him. But there was one thing that they didn't try just yet.
Bruce watched as his son raised his fist up, ready to strike. Ready to kill.
" I love you son. " Bruce said as he smile and (Y/N) stopped.
The red was gone. The red was gone! Bruce smiled even more and the boys were waiting with a baited breath as to what would (Y/N) do. They didn't expect the tears. But by God, it was a sight they were hoping.
The shadow chains were getting broken.
(Y/N) was slowly moving backwards, going to the edge of the cliff, hands gripping his hair and head. Everything was coming back to him... What he did to Althea... His brothers... His dad, father.... What he did when he was under the villain's control...
(Y/N) looked back at the edge of a cliff, seeing the waves crash at the hard stone... Usually, (Y/N) would love to watch it, just to relax. But now, (Y/N) only sees the dark abyss. Everyone at one point is just standing at the edge of that abyss and then, sometimes, the abyss blinks back at you.
He glanced back at his family, who were out of the restraints, just waiting for (Y/N) to say something. (Y/N) couldn't really see their faces due to tears, but he did wonder one single thing.
Would they forgive him? Would Althea forgive him?
(Y/N) shook his head as he took another backwards, he could feel the edge, right at his heels. His mind was in shambles, ruins... He wouldn't be forgiven...
He knew that his family wouldn't forgive him. But Althea might kill him... (Y/N) looked back at his family once more, one last time. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment.
" I'm sorry. "
Bruce's eyes widened and he knew exactly what he was going to do and he got up and ran towards (Y/N), but it was too late. (Y/N) took a step over the edge, falling backwards into the waves and onto the hard rocks. Bruce leapt forward, hands grabbing the edge, but it was too late.
Bruce watched his son laying down there, waves washing over him. Bruce closed his eyes as he heard a scream behind him and then there was sobbing. Bruce looked up towards the sky, which opened up and Bruce for a moment thought that the sky was crying over their son.
The boys were destroyed and Bruce was destroyed with them... Oh God... Alfred will be destroyed too... Bruce allowed his tears to fall, and those tears were mixed with the rain.
Bruce swore that someone came in and took a part of soul. Just took it and ripped it out of his chest. A part of his heart was also taken and shattered. He look back at his sons, quickly grouping them into a hug, wanting to give them as much comfort as he can.
" Why? " Damian asked, shaken to his core.
" He said he was sorry... He thought we wouldn't forgive him... " Bruce said, burying his face into Damian's hair.
The boys all cried, crying out for their brother. Their souls and hearts were shattered too.
The world seemed to cry for (Y/N) Wayne.
Unfortunately, they couldn't bury (Y/N) just yet. They had to make sure that there were no restraints on his mind and body... And maybe they weren't ready to bury him just yet. They all hoped for a miracle to happen. Maybe (Y/N) would wake up and just be hey guys... But they all knew that wouldn't happen.
They were all grieving for (Y/N) in their own ways, but Damian was hurting the most. He was thinking about (Y/N) all the time and he cried alone in his room, thinking about his brother. The house was silent and there was no way it could ever be the same.
Damian thought about his grandfather and the Lazarus pit... Maybe... Just maybe...
The way back was easier than the way to Lazarus pit. Talia didn't expect him to come, especially not with his younger brother, well, half brother but still. Talia met (Y/N) and she did like him. She didn't know what happened, but she felt bad for the poor boy. She also didn't expect that Damian would want to use the pit, but she wasn't going to stop him.
She helped him put (Y/N) in the pit, waiting and watching. The color was coming back to his cheeks. There was that infamous white streak in his hair... Damian watched with a bated breath, hoping it would work.
After a few minutes, they checked for a pulse. Damian sighed in relief as he felt a pulse. His brother was alive... He is alive.... Talia watched as Damian took (Y/N) into his arms, lifting him out of the water, hugging him tightly.
She left the two brothers alone, allowing Damian to have a moment to get himself ready. He had to go back home...
As said before, the way back was easier and oddly enough, he made it just in time for dinner. He didn't question it and walked through, carrying his now alive brother.
Bruce spat out his water and the rest paled. There was (Y/N), but he looked like he was sleeping. He had more color than he had...
" Damian, " Bruce started as he stood up, not sure what more to say. The rest was quiet. " What did you do? "
" I used the Lazarus pit. "
That sentence... Bruce's eyes widened as he walked closer to his now alive son... He took (Y/N) into his arms, trying not to cry. (Y/N) was alive... He is alive.
" Lets put him to bed. " Bruce said with a strain in his voice. The other 3 boys jumped from their seats to really see if their brother is really alive.
(Y/N) was alive... They all cried softly as they realized that (Y/N) was alive... (Y/N) is alive!
They were happy, but mad at the same time since Damian didn't tell anyone of them what the hell he was planning. But they were happy and maybe their family could be whole again, once more.
243 notes · View notes
grvyrd-drms · 8 months
Note
toby with a s/o who shares a similar trauma to him? if uncomfortable just ignore this rq!
toby rogers x fellow traumatized reader hcs
------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: oh no don't worry this is MY TIME TO SHINE THANKS DAD ‼️ i'm projecting a little bit on this one tbh
CW: gn!reader, abuse, borderline personality disorder, shit dads, trauma, ptsd, bullying, mental health issues, etc. just a sad post all around lmao.
------------------------------------------------------------
-starting this off by mentioning this is written by someone who had an abusive dad, was severally bullied and has mental disorders. hes literally like me tbh btw fr!!!!
-toby doesn't like to talk about it. his family. school. his mental disorders and tics. he acts like the only life he's ever lived was under the control of slenderman.
-if anything, you would be the one to open up first. if you're a secretive person, just imagine how toby is. you open up about your past, all of your issues etc. and he just.... kind of stares at you. it's uncomfortable at first, and you start to panic and think you overshared or said something triggering.
-then he just sighs, closes his eyes. he doesn't make eye contact with you, just kind of stares into the distance. he mutters a quiet "yeah... i get it. me too." and it's fucking DEPRESSING.
-theres a thick, but comfortable, silence that filled the room. of course you didn't tell him all the details, and he didn't tell you any, but the point got across to both of you that you've both been mistreated.
-from there on toby just kind of studies you. he notices some of your habits are the same as his, flinching at loud sounds or being uncomfortable when you're around angry men. you freeze up when you hear people whispering, and he finally starts to understand why you lock yourself in your room to have panic attacks.
-he's not the world's best therapist, but he's a good listener. he cares about you very much and tries to make it clear by awkwardly offering a shoulder to rest on when you're upset or having unpleasant flashbacks.
-toby's voice gets quiet and his movements become gentler when you're upset about something. he understands what it's like to get like this and knows how to help you (he tries, at least).
for a sprinkle of angst;
-of course he has issues too, and god forbid if you both are having a hard time. it'll be like hell on earth.
-for my bpd fellas, if you've ever dated a person who also has bpd, take that traumatic shit and multiply it by 100.
-toby's bpd is so bad and it's so painful to watch. he'll be freaking out, slamming himself into walls, hurting himself, yelling and crying. he'll split on you, being just a total dickhead.
-of course this will then domino affect, and it'll start making you feel like shit too. give it a few minutes after you freak out and storm off and toby will be crawling back like a pathetic mess. sobbing, begging for you to stay with him, to not leave. he "can't go through that again." his eyes are dark as he clings onto you, he can't stop apologizing. in his eyes, he just made the biggest mistake of his life. which is saying a lot.
-he wants to be good for you. he tries so hard.
422 notes · View notes
gyutopia · 2 months
Text
dried flowers | park jongseong
Tumblr media
ꕤ DESCRIPTION:  it���s always been jay, even all those years ago when you were fresh out of a relationship with your first love hueningkai. it was jay who was always there, the man who helped you find yourself again and showed you your worth, the man you could clearly picture a future with, the father of your twins. so why are you now having doubts about your marriage? it’s always been jay...hasn’t it?
ꕤ GENRE: fluff, nsfw, angst….
ꕤ WORD COUNT: 13.3k
⟶ WARNINGS: mean dom!jay, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), p in v intercourse, no protection, degradation, possessiveness, jealousy,, jay gets his heart broken, the park family is in shambles, mentions of cheating, slut shaming, knets hate u lol, mentions of depression and therapy.
❥ 𝑎/n: she’s been in the drafts for a while, decided to post while i work on my jake fic!
Tumblr media
12:39am
There was a time in your life when you felt free and the world was full of possibilities...and him, especially him. You love your husband, you always have and you always will but a part of you can’t help but wonder if your life would be different had you given your first love a second chance. The circumstances surrounding your relationship with Hueningkai were far from ideal, an overly busy boyfriend who could never seem to make time for you and a short stay for your study abroad program. The odds really were never in your favor.
It also didn’t help that the two of you had completely different ideals and aspirations. You wanted to settle down at some point and have kids, you wanted the big wedding and the house at the end of the cul de sac but Kai wanted you and his music, nothing more. He didn’t believe in marriage, claiming he didn’t need a piece of paper to show you just how much he loved you.
He also wasn’t big on kids, coming from a somewhat big family himself and seeing how his parents marriage didn’t last and the pain he and his sisters endured when the divorce was finalized, he came to the conclusion he wouldn’t ever want to put someone he loves through that and swore off kids for good. His focus was his music career before anything else and he expected you to simply adjust to his hectic life and be content with being kept in the shadows. Your relationship really took a turn for the worst when he brought you to a party his label mates were throwing, everything went to shit that night.
The party resulted in a broken relationship, bloody nose and bruised knuckles and you pulling out of the SNU study abroad program the following week and returning back home to the states.
You don't even know what you’re doing thinking about Kai, it’s been years and you’re content with the life you lead now. You’re married to an amazing man who shows you each and every day just how much he loves you and the children you have together. Jay has never given you any reason to not trust him or even doubt him. So why are you now?
Jay is the kind of guy who actually enjoys dinners with your mess of a family, he stands on the train no matter how many seats are empty and somehow manages to be the most handsome yet humble man in any room. He’s your all time favorite person and you want to live a hundred years and die at the exact same moment so your souls can find each other on the other side as soon as possible and fall in love all over again.
So maybe you don’t regret picking Jay, you’re glad you did. Really, but you just can’t help but think: what if it had been Kai?
Would you be as happy as you are now? Would you have kids? Would you still be his dirty little secret or would he have told the press about you eventually?
You sigh in frustration and rub at your forehead. “It’s too early for this,” you mumble to yourself before standing from your bed and exiting the room.
You slide on your bedroom slippers and slip out of the master bedroom to head downstairs. You stop by the twins room and open the door just a bit to make sure they’re still sleeping. You smile softly when you find them passed out in their respective beds.
You shut the door and continue to pad down the hall and stairs into your kitchen to grab a mug and tequila. You pour yourself a cup and head into the backyard to sit on the hammock chair Jay had set up a month prior to you giving birth to the twins.
You place the tequila bottle by your feet and cradle your mug to your chest as you overlook your backyard. It’s a mess, there are toys scattered about and the play set Jay had installed with the help of his members sits proud and tall right smack dab in the middle of the mess.
You lean your head against the wood of the hammock and pull your phone out of the pocket of your robe. You can feel your eyes water as you scroll through your contact list searching for one specific person. Yujin.
The phone rings for a few seconds before she picks up.
“Hello?”
You let out a shaky laugh, “oh. Hi, you’re still up?”
She laughs. “Do you know who you’re talking to? My sleep schedule doesn’t exist. But I will say I’m surprised that you haven’t passed out yet. You know, being the mother of one year old twins can be very tiring.” You hear some commotion in the background before you hear the gentle shut of a door. “Why are you still up?”
You bite down on your bottom lip and play with the rim on your mug. “I can’t sleep.”
She hums, “hey, has Jay ever choked you? Because if he hasn’t he really should.”
You let out a scandalized gasp, “oh my gosh! You were with heeseung weren't you?”
She giggles and sighs into the phone, “he might have spent the night.”
You kick your feet and allow the hammock to swing, “oh wow. Was it that good?”
She hums eagerly, “yes it was. Maybe we should get married? Then he could do it for the rest of our lives.”
You nearly choke on the sip of tequila at her words. “I love that it takes asphyxiation to get you to settle down.”
She laughs as well, “please, you’re acting as if you didn’t marry Jay because of his, your words not mine, ‘monster cock’,”
You shrug your robe off and place the mug down, finally getting comfortable. “I don’t recall.”
She snorts, “of course you don’t. But moving on, are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”
You clear your throat and stare off into the distance. “I’ve been doing some...thinking..?”
You trail off as you try and think of how to phrase your next sentence. “A lot of thinking actually. About...him.”
Yujin hums in amusement, “ouu, who?”
You sigh and place your head in your hands. “Come on Yujin, you know who.”
Silence follows after your statement and you hang your head in shame.
“Are you kidding me?” Yujin takes a seat at her dining table and reprimands you. “Do not fuck up your gorgeous family.”
You shake your head adamantly, “I’m not.”
“You better not! Jay is such a good guy, _____!”
You sigh, “I know that!”
Yujin scoffs, “then appreciate it for a second, how lucky you are to have found him. Do you know how many millions of women would kill for what you have with him?”
“Look, I know that. B-but I just can’t stop thinking about how different things used to be!”
Yujin lets out a confused hum, “with Kai?”
“No...with me. I was different...I- I don’t know what happened.”
Yujin sighs, “you said yes, moved to the suburbs and had kids. This is what you wanted, _____. It was your choice.”
You groan in frustration. “I know that, Yujin! But I just, I-I need to feel it again!”
“Feel what?”
“Some small piece of that interconnected love rush you know? It was just-- it was such a high!”
“_____...I get it, Kai was out of this world for you but that kind of love is a fickle bitch. It hurts, it betrays and is ultimately unsustainable but what you have with Jay will go the distance. He really is the one for you.”
You close your eyes and lean back in the hammock. “I know.” You softly say, “I know it with everything in me.”
Yujin nods, forgetting that you can’t see her. “So what are you gonna do?”
You open your eyes when you hear Jay’s car pull up in the driveway. “I don’t know.” You properly sit up and collect your mug and tequila off the floor, “I have to go. Jay’s home.”
You don’t give her a chance to respond before hanging up and entering the kitchen through the back just as Jay walks in through the foyer. You dump the remaining liquor and place the bottle back in your drink cabinet.
“Hi, my love.” You feel Jay wrap his arms around your waist from behind and place a kiss on your collarbone. “Why are you still up?”
You finish washing up the mug and place it on the drying rack. “My mind won’t shut off.” you turn in his arms and wrap your own around his waist. He smiles at you and leans down to place his lips on yours for a quick peck but you pull him back in for a longer more meaningful kiss.
Loosely, his hand moves to grip your neck, as you lift your chin higher - so you can press your lips harder into his - while your hands fist into his shirt. His free hand drops to wind around your waist, and in one swift movement, he pulls your body flush against his. Gasping at the motion, Jay uses the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, your lips parting further in response. Indolently, his soft appendage swipes across yours, curling around your tongue and gently massaging it.
Electrified by his kiss, you moan into his mouth, your chin lifting higher as you press your lips harder against his. Mouths moving in tandem, you lose yourself into the intoxicating feel of his lips against yours. The soft petals of his mouth are soft, and as pillowy as you remember; albeit a little chapped, but you don’t mind so much. No - because the slight abrasion only adds to the feel of your kiss.
When you feel his tongue flick against yours, your hands uncurl from his shirt - only to wind up his chest, along his throat, towards the nape of his neck. Further and further, you sink into Jay: his body pressed flat against yours, his saccharine taste coating your tastebuds, and his warm breath wafting over your face. You can’t help but find yourself drowning into him - his entire presence encasing your senses as you lose yourself deep into his entire being.
Both of you lose track of time, your tongues gliding and sliding against each other, both of you consumed wholly by the other. Lost in your own selves, you feel nothing but each other - want to feel nothing but each other - and soon, the rest of the world fades into the background. There’s a soft ache in your lungs - your chest aching from the lack of oxygen, but you don’t care. No - right now, breathing is the last thing on your mind. In fact, the only thing you can think of is Jay, and the intoxicating sensation of his tongue against yours.
Nonetheless, eventually, your lungs begin to burn - the lack of oxygen searing through your chest. When the sweltering ache grows too much to be ignored, the two of you pull away - breathing harshly against each other. Your eyes stay closed as you gasp for air, both your breaths mingling together and circulating the air. Your lips are slightly swollen, and as you flick out your tongue to soothe them, you can’t help but whimper at the aftertaste of his essence on your mouth: the flavor only deepened by his breath fanning your face.
With your eyes closed, you still feel him linger around you - his calming presence washing over you and soothing your earlier hurt. Swallowing thickly, the two of you gradually open your eyes - coming face to face with each other. You’re still only a hair's breadth away, his mouth ghosting against yours in tender brushes. Gaze meeting his, you search his eyes for something - anything - even just an inkling of the emotions you feel for him. And as usual, Jay doesn’t disappoint.
He smiles gently at you, the soft tip of his nose brushing yours as he repetitively presses affectionate kisses to your lips. “Not that I’m complaining but, what was that for?”
You place your head against his chest and lowly whisper into the night, “I love you.”
Tumblr media
You wake up with a headache and the muffled sound of voices echoing from your living room all the way to the master bedroom. Groggily, you push yourself up off the bed and stare at the empty space beside you, realizing one of the voices belongs to Jay.
You vaguely remember him coming home last night after his meeting with his producer, your moment on the kitchen counter. How he carried you back upstairs and tucked you into bed beside him.
You hoist yourself off the bed and throw on the silk robe you had in the bathroom as you begin your morning routine of brushing your teeth and taking a shower. Trudging along the hallway to the living room after freshening up, you stumble upon a woman rounding the corner and walking up to you.
You think your eyes are deceiving you when you finally recognize who the jet black hair pulled up high into a sleek ponytail belongs to. “Oh sweetheart! You’re awake! Good morning.”
It’s Jay’s mother.
She pulls you into a hug and you blush. “I-I didn’t know you were visiting today.” You return the hug, “If I knew, I wouldn’t have—“
“Don’t be silly! We’re all allowed to drink once in a while!” Her eyes sparkle with her words, making you smile. She’s always been fond of her and was quite vocal about it. “Let’s get you some coffee, okay?'' Jay's mom leads you down the hallway, past the living room where you see Jay and his father engaging in what seems to be a serious conversation, and into the open kitchen where she ushers you to sit down. “The twins haven’t woken up yet, I was about to get started on their breakfast” She informs you when she catches you looking around. You hum and stir your still hot coffee.
Before you get to take a sip of the morning brew, you feel someone kiss your temple.
“Good morning, baby.” Jay whispers, placing his phone by your coffee mug, “Are you okay? Do you need aspirin?”
“I’m fine.” you sigh, stretching your neck to kiss his cheek before he straightens his back. His mother sets down another plate, filled with eggs and bacon, before ushering the men to sit.
“Let's eat!”
┕━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┙
Brunch goes by fast, small talk about your father in-laws' business is shared and pictures of your kids go around the table before goodbyes are bid with promises of lunch sometime soon. Retreating back into your home, Jay takes a seat on the couch and massages his temples with two fingers.
“Jay?” You worriedly ask, sitting beside him and placing your hand on his knee. There’s something unsettling about how it takes him a second to reply, staring at the glass coffee table with a stoic expression. You begin to retract your hand until he sighs and grabs it gently
He closes his eyes and smacks his lips together, “This morning… your previous relationship was broadcasted all over the news. I don’t know how they got the information but I’m doing everything I can to take it down.”
“Oh.” You blink, unsure of what to say or how to react. If anything, the headache you woke up with starts acting up again as you try to process what your husband had just said. The world knows about Kai. Even more, the world knows about your past relationship with him. You can only wonder how the media is painting you.
You think it’s something along the lines of a gold digger. First you get swept up in a whirlwind romance with an international superstar just to break things off and marry the son of one of South Korea’s biggest chaebols who just so happened to not only be friends with your ex but work with him as well. There’s definitely no saving your image now.
“I’m sorry.”
He frowns at your apology, tilting his head to the side. “What for?”
“About this mess, I’m sorry this is interfering with your image.”
“You did nothing wrong, love. I just hate how even after all these years Kai is still associated with you. It’s almost like you won’t be able to ever fully leave him in your past where he belongs.”
You want to reassure him that while yes, Hueningkai played a major role in your life, he’s the past. You want to tell him that it doesn’t matter because he’ll stay in your past but you can’t bring yourself to lie to your husband.
The truth is you don’t know where Hueningkai stands in your life at the moment and as sick and twisted as it sounds, if he were to show up at your doorstep right at this moment….you don’t know what you would do.
Jay turns to face you. “I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you, _____. That isn’t it, I swear. I just...I guess I just need the reassurance that Kai isn’t coming back. I’m secure with our relationship and I just want to know what you’re thinking, please don’t shut me out.”
You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out, “u-uh...I-'' You're soon cut off by the wails of your twins over the baby monitor. You close your eyes and thank God for the distraction. “-I should probably go get them ready for their day and feed them. They have a playdate with Chaeyoung’s kids''
You abruptly stand and turn in the direction of the nursery. “You should get dressed for work, I’ll stop by the studio with lunch later for you and the guys.” You hesitate before turning back around to place a quick kiss on his lips. “I love you.”
Tumblr media
After dropping off the twins and making a quick trip to the grocery store, you’re talking to Yujin over the phone about her taking her relationship with Heeseung to the next level when your phone chimes with a message from a number you should have blocked and deleted a long time ago. It’s Kai.
You block out Yujin’s words about her current issues and shakily reach for the device, scared to read the contents of his unprompted message.
2:33pm [hueningkai]: i’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now and i really am sorry if it put you in a difficult position with jay. i know you told me to delete your number and never reach out again but i don’t want you to hate me anymore than you already do _____.
2:33pm [hueningkai]: i’m not the one who sold the story to the press, i don’t know how it got out and i’m working really hard to get them taken down so please be patient and wait for me a little longer.
2:35pm [hueningkai]: i’ll make things right.
“I don’t want you to hate me anymore than you already do.” Your ears ring and your breath hitches as the phase catapults you into the past.
“_____.” he called in a breath.
He felt the panic rising. He wasn’t ready to confront you. From what Yeonjun had told him, you weren't doing great when you left the party last night. He told him how you had cried your eyes out on your way back home. Hueningkai had never seen you cry - apart from that time the two of you watched All The Bright Places together - you were always so cheery all the time, always in a good mood. In the past months you’ve been together you’ve never had a fight - you bickered continuously, yes, but never fought. You were always in sync, as if you could read each other’s minds. Hueningkai never felt such a connection with anybody else. 
You were still looking at him. you looked at him and you saw the beautiful man you fell in love with tremble with fear. He was afraid of you. And in some way, you were scared of him too. you were scared of who he was, who he really was - because last night you had come to one conclusion: you don’t know Hueningkai. You thought you did, you thought you had learned enough of him in these past months, but you were wrong. He wasn’t the great, responsible and loving person you thought he was - because the man you thought you knew wasn’t capable of breaking your trust.
If there was something you were sure about it’s your worth. Your pride and tenacity were the qualities that allowed you to be where you were. You're intelligent, independent and determined. You had your moments, but you were strong, and you knew it. You knew that you didn’t do anything wrong to deserve his deception. You had cried your tears and felt the pain, but no more. 
“I just want to know why.” you said, your voice a little bit too shaky for your liking.
Hueningkai closed his eyes hard, his head pounding. “_____ …”
“how long?” you pressed on.
The boy shook his head and took another shaky breath. He stood up and walked to her desk, trying to get some space between the two of them. He couldn’t think clearly. 
Your eyes followed him without wavering. “You’re not going anywhere until you speak.”
Hueningkai was biting hard on his lower lip in the hope to cover up the pang in his chest. He didn’t want this. He cared about her. He loved her. But he knew, deep inside, that there was no going back from what he had done. There was no turning back from this terrible mistake.
“I ended things with her.” was all he could say.
“You clearly haven’t.” you responded in almost a clinical manner. “How long?” you repeated. “How long were you seeing her behind my back?”
The boy shook his head again, letting himself fall on the chair. “I wasn’t.”
The girl sighed, slowly getting angrier and impatient. “I saw you kiss each other yesterday. Please, be honest.”
“I-” he mumbled, struggling to find the words. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”
You couldn’t help but smirk. “Very cliché of you to say.”
“It really wasn't,” Hueningkai exclaimed, finding the courage to look at you before cowering back, seeing the disdain on your face. “It- It was after your first day back to classes after winter break.” he finally admitted.
You furrowed your brows, going back with your memories. “The day I learned I failed my bio final?”
He looked up to the ceiling, wishing he could turn back time. “Yes.”
You thought back to that day, the same day you noticed Yeji for the first time. They hugged, you remembered that day too. You didn’t think anything of it when it happened. It didn’t seem important to you. 
Were you too naive?
“Did you have sex with her?”
He shook his head. “I...I don’t remember, I was drunk.”
“You were drunk.” you repeated. “Does it sound stupid only to me?”
“No.” he gulped. “It was stupid.”
You suddenly came to a realization. “The day after my math final,” you remembered. “You weren’t yourself …”
“You told me you fought with Bahiyyih.” You murmured in recognition.
“I didn’t.” Hueningkai responded, fingers through his hair. He wanted this torture to end.
You were feeling slightly nauseous. You were worried about him that morning, but he was fine only hours later. He had laughed with you during your lunch break. “And you decided it wasn’t worth … it wasn’t important enough?” you asked, your anger rising.
“I didn’t want to ruin anything!” the boy exclaimed in fervor, looking back at her again. “You still had three more finals to take and I didn't want t-”
“So you went on with it.” you interrupted. “As if nothing had happened.”
“I didn’t want to-”
To what?” you raised your voice. “To what Hueningkai? To lose me?” you laughed a cold laugh that made the boy quiver. “That’s bullshit and you know it. And then what? You continued seeing her? Those weeks we couldn’t see each other because of your schedule, you were with her, weren’t you?” you accused him in one breath, thinking about how distant he had been. 
Hueningkai was petrified. He was unable to speak against your claims, he wanted to but his throat was constricted. He could feel you slipping away by the minute and he was unable to stop you. He was losing something important, and it was all his fault.
Your breath had turned labored with the realization of how foolish you had been. Four months of lies. You couldn’t believe you fell for all of it, that you fell for him. 
What was it _____? Was it his looks? Was it his personality? What about him rendered you so stupid?
Hueningkai couldn’t stop looking at you now. You were sitting on the edge of your bed with your head down and your hands on your knees, your knuckles taught. He wished he could avert his gaze again but something inside him wanted to masochistically remember this moment. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his own hands trembling inside the pocket of his jeans, where he had hidden them. If he didn’t know himself better, he could swear his eyes were starting to sting. What happened to him? 
You finally take a trembling breath, as if you were trying to compose yourself and not cry. You looked him in the eyes with all the courage you could gather and finally spoke the words he had been secretly preparing himself to hear. “I never thought I could hate someone as much as I hate you. I hate you, Hueningkai. With all my heart.”
“_____? Are you even listening to me?”
You shake your head as the memory comes to pass, trying to get your head out of the daze. “Y-yeah, sorry. Chaeyoung sent me a video of the twins but I promise you have my complete undivided attention.” You lie. Why did you feel the need to hide this from your best friend?
“Oh, it’s okay. I have to go anyway, gotta wrap up my thesis.”
You bid her goodbye and wish her luck with her thesis for her PhD program before hanging up. You stand in silence in the middle of your kitchen as your mind cooks up every reason why texting Hueningkai back is wrong and downright disrespectful to Jay but a part of you itches to see what would happen if you did. Would the part of you you feel is missing come back?
2:40pm to: [hueningkai]: i believe you.
You quickly exit the messages app and shut off your phone to finish packing the boys lunches. You individually wipe down each lunch box and place them neatly in the large lunch bag you had found at Costco a while back. You make sure to pack a few snacks and a sealed platter of fruits for them as well.
You’re back in the car with a few minutes to spare from the time frame you gave yourself, the members warmed up tteokbokki perched on the passenger seat as you pull out of the driveway to your destination. You’re there in no time; there wasn’t much traffic around 4PM.
You park the Mercades in the assigned spot for workers and their family members. You make sure to grab your purse and lunch bag before you enter the elevator to head to the main floor. You greet the security guard; who had remembered you from your previous visits, greeting you as ‘Mrs. Park.’
Bashfully, you bow to him as he lets you pass and make your way to the elevator and ride up to the 10th floor.
Jaebeom, the group's manager, recognizes you the second you step out of the lift and stands up from his seat, “_____! Perfect timing! The boys just wrapped up their dance practice.”
“amazing!.” You beam as you follow him down a corridor. Some employees look up from their work to glance at you; recognition in their eyes.
Enhypen’s practice room is such a large space with multiple glass windows allowing you to see all over. He’s sat on the floor beside Jake, fingers supporting his forehead as he reads something off a piece of paper.
Jaebeom knocks on the open door and pokes his head in, “boys, you have a visitor.”
You watch as their heads snap up simultaneously to see who has stopped by.
Jay puts whatever he was reading down and stands up, “_____? What are you doing here?”
Jaebeom quietly excuses himself and you whisper words of gratitude as he leaves before stepping further into the dance room.
“I promised to drop off lunch,”holding up the lunchbox you made for them. “I can’t have my husband and dear friends starving.”
The boys all cheer and abandon their previous work to come crowd you by the door. Sunoo takes the heavy lunch bag off your shoulder and happily skips to the middle of the practice room with the members following behind. Jay walks up to you, kissing your forehead, “You really didn’t have to. We could have ordered-”
“But you weren’t, were you?” You scowl, “Come on, let’s fill that belly up.”
He leans forward to whisper in your ear, “I’d rather eat you.”
You gasp, instinctively reaching your hand out to hit his shoulder, but he catches it instead and interlocks your fingers together. “Stay and eat with us?”
Your heart melts at the gesture and you inwardly chastise yourself for even ever thinking about someone else when you have a husband as caring and loving as Jay.
You shake your head gently, “I already ate, plus I have to go pick up the twins soon.” You stand on your tiptoes to place a chaste kiss on his lips, “you should go join the boys before they eat your half as well. I’ll see you at home?”
He whines and leans in for one more kiss, “at least let me walk you to the car?”
You shake your head firmly this time. “I can walk myself to the car, Jay. Go enjoy your lunch, I’m sure your body’s dying for some nutrients. I’ll call you as soon as I get back home.”
You kiss him goodbye and say your farewells to the members before exiting the large dance room. You walk down the corridor not paying attention to your surroundings, you’re in your own little world thinking about how your life has seemed to turn to shit overnight when you hear the faint calling of your name.
Your eyes wander about until they fall onto a lone male standing in front of the lift. Blinking at him, you couldn’t believe your eyes when his profile registers in your head.
Your lips have parted in a mixture of dread and astonishment. You haven’t seen him in almost a decade since you left and returned to Korea. All at once, the memories you’ve shared together come flooding back and you don’t notice you’re staring at him; not even when your phone starts buzzing in your hands.
Your eyes meet and in those few seconds you’re able to see that he’s out of his awkward puberty stage; that he’s finally matured into a man his label had been shaping him up to be. He wasn’t scrawny like before, but he wasn’t ‘soft-looking’ either; he looked lean and in good shape. The faintest shadow under his eyes tells you that touring and practicing must have been shit to him but he was still handsome as ever.
“_____?” The way he says your name hits you with nostalgia. He’s still soft-spoken, but you can’t really imagine him having such a stern voice.
Finally coming to your senses, you take a deep breath and fake a chuckle. “Kai,” You gulp, “Hey.”
“It’s been so long! Wow, you look great.”
It takes a second for his compliment to register in your head as you’re still in shock at seeing him again. “Y-yeah, you too. H-how are you?”
“I’m good, the group’s doing well so not much to complain about.” his eyes shift a bit as he clears his throat. “Congratulations, by the way. I saw on the news, and overheard the other members talking… about your wedding and twins.”
Instinctively, you look down at your hand; to your wedding band. “Ah, yeah. Thanks.”
“I’m glad you’re happy, _____.”
Not knowing what to reply, you nod your head, “Uhm, so what about you?”
He lets out a sad chuckle, “No luck. Touring the world doesn’t really give me that much time to socialize. I’m always on the go.”
“Not even groupies?”
“I guess I'm just not interested in them.” Kai shrugs with a half smile on his face, displaying how chiseled his face was. “Still caught up on an ex.”
You shiver at his words, “still caught up on an ex.” were you by any chance said ex? You slightly shake your head. It shouldn’t matter if it’s you. You’re married and a mother, you can’t betray your husband like that and put your family at risk. Whatever lingering feelings you’re holding on to need to be dealt with and put aside. Kai isn’t someone worth losing your family over.
Before you can reply, suddenly, someone steps beside you, pressing a kiss on your temple and wraps their arms around your waist tightly, making your blood run cold. Looking up, Jay smiles sweetly at you but gives the complete opposite glance at Kai. “You dropped your wallet, love.”
You clear your throat and nod, “thank you.” You unravel his arm from your body and take your wallet from his free hand. “I should really get going now. It was nice seeing you again Kai.” You offer him a tight lipped smile and move to walk past him but Jay grabs onto your hand and intertwines your fingers. “Let me walk you to the car.” You turn to look at him ready to tell him it’s not necessary but the way he says it makes it sound like a command and the way he stares at you shows there’s no room for disagreement. He nods his head in acknowledgement at Huening before walking past him, purposely bumping shoulders with him. You outwardly cringe at the clear jealousy in his eyes and show of masculinity. The two of you enter the elevator in silence, you hate how tense the atmosphere has become. Jay squeezes your hand one last time before releasing it.
He lets out a deep sigh, nodding, “do you still love him?”
You blink up at Jay, hands clasped together to stop them from shaking. Do you still love Kai? You always thought you did during your freshman year, but never really thought about it again when you left. When Jay came into the picture, you knew you loved him - probably more than you did Kai, but were you just going to disregard your entire past with Kai?
“He only meant something to me before, you know that.” You could hear your own heartbeat thumping from your chest as you anticipate his next words.
“You look at him the way I look at you.” He turns his head to face you, “you look at him the way I wished you would look at me when we first started dating. Like he holds the whole universe in his eyes.” He gulps as he clenches his fists, “you look at him like you’re in love with him.”
You wipe your clammy hands against your jeans as Jay's words ring in your ears. Do you really look at him like that?
“You’re not even going to deny it?” he scoffs and glares down at your shorter figure. “This morning you couldn’t even tell me that he’s a part of your past, G-God! I should have known!”
You shake your head, “Jay..”
He only speaks over you. “Why are you still hung up on that piece of shit? Are you forgetting everything he put you through? Why aren’t I enough for you? No- fuck that, why isn’t the life we’ve built together enough?”
You reach out to grab his hand, praying he doesn’t pull away. To your relief and mild shock, he doesn’t. “It is! It’s more than enough, Jay! I-I love you, and the twins. I can’t picture my life without the three of you!”
He nods and grips your hand back with the same ferocity you’re holding on to his. “Okay, then look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t love him anymore.”
You lick your lips and look down at the ground. You know what your answer should be yet that’s not what it is and you’ve never lied to your husband. You’re not going to start now.
“I-I don’t know what I feel for him.”
You’re heartbroken by your own admission, but even more so with how Jay releases a deep sigh and your hand; brows meeting at the middle of his forehead as he rips his gaze away from you. You could see his hands ball up into fists against his sides. His breathing is deep and slow; his tongue slowly licking across his bottom lip.
You should say something; explain it further to him. “J-”
The elevator dings and the doors separate. You sniff to hold in your tears as new people enter the lift.
“You should go. The twins are waiting.”
Your head snaps to look at Jay but he makes it a point to avoid your gaze. “B-but you said you would walk me to the car.”
He slowly shrugs. “It’s not like you wanted me to. Besides, being around you right now is too painful. I’ll see you at home.”
The elevator doors close with one last ding and your husband is whisked back up to the 10th floor leaving you all alone in the middle of the reception area crowded by HYBE staff. You try your best to contain your tears as you rush back to the parking garage. You shoot Chaeyoung a text to let her know you’ll be late to pick up the kids, when she lets you know that it’s alright you toss your phone and book it out of the parking lot.
You know you shouldn’t be driving while so high on emotions but you can’t stay anywhere near that fucking building.
Not wanting to go home to silence, you drive to your second safe place. Where you know you won’t be judged and your worries seemingly just melt away.
Tumblr media
You frantically knock on the door to Yujin’s home, wondering what the fuck was taking her so long to open the damn door.
“Who is it?”
You choke on a sob and seize your rapid knocking, “i-it’s me”
“_____?”
You nod and resume your knocking, “just let me in!” You hear the click of the lock coming undone before the door swings open and Yujin steps aside to let you in. She takes in your frantic appearance and takes cautious steps towards you, not wanting to set you off even more.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
You place your right hand over your chest as you wheeze, finding it hard to breathe. “I really fucked up.”
You slap a palm over your mouth when a loud sob comes out of your mouth.
Before your body starts to fold as you fail to control your sobbing, Yujin’s arms are around you, encasing your frame against her chest. There’s no point in pushing her away. You’re tired in every aspect and it feels like the only thing to relieve you of that stress is to cry it out.
Your knees give in so suddenly, catching her off guard that she stumbles back a little; balancing your weights until she has both your bodies settled on the floor with her back against the white wall.
“It’s going to be okay,” she shushes you gently and strokes at your back as you sob into her clothes. She allows you to cry to your heart's content and calm down before asking you if you’re ready to speak on what’s caused you to break down.
“I should have listened,” you whine, shaking your head in disbelief. “I should have listened to you when you told me to leave it alone, I-I don’t know why I didn’t!”
“What happened, _____?”
You look up at her with watery eyes. “I really fucked up Yujin…” She sighs and adjusts the way she’s sitting.
“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, love.”
You sniff and play with the hanging thread on your shirt. “I...I saw Kai today.” You timidly look into Yujin’s eyes, searching for any judgment in them but her face is passive. “I went to drop off lunch for Jay and the boys and ran into him on my way out.”
“Was that...the first time you’ve seen him since what went down?” Yujin softy asks.
You nod, “it was too painful to face him when I came back and Jay just hated me being near him so I guess I always made it a point to avoid him at all functions I knew he would be at.”
Yujin nods, “did something else happen?”
You close your eyes and bite down on your bottom lip, “an article dropped this morning about my past relationship with Kai and Jay asked me if Kai really was in my past but I dodged the question...he also saw Kai and I together and asked me privately if I...if I still love him.”
Yujin’s eyebrows shoot up, “...and what did you say?”
You scratch your neck and open your eyes, “I told him I don’t know what I feel for him.”
A heavy silence falls over the two of you as Yujin goes over your words. “What the actual fuck, _____?”
You sigh. “I know, I know I fucked up, okay? But Yujin these past few months I haven’t felt like...like myself.” You wipe your nose and try to find the right words. “I’m not saying I don’t love Jay, because I love that man with everything in me but when I think back to Kai-before everything went to shit it feels like everything’s normal again.”
“When I saw him today, it’s like something clicked. I felt like the old me again, for a brief second everything seemed clear and like the haze that I’ve been in ever since the twins turned six months just- vanished!”
Yujin waits for you to finish your rant before she gives you her opinion on the topic. “I don’t think this was ever about Kai.”
You look at her questioningly, “what..?”
Yujin sits up and reaches for your hands. “I should have paid more attention to you when you called me that night, _____. Everything you said then and now...it’s clear. This isn’t about Kai, you don’t miss him or your past relationship with him. You miss the person you used to be when you were with him.”
You shake your head, “n-no.”
Yujin cuts you off and goes on, “-Everything you’ve said- reminiscing on the past, who you were, feeling like a part of you was missing? _____, you’re so focused on Kai and what could have been because you never got the proper closure for what happened. He betrayed you in one of the worst ways and left you with so many unanswered questions. Now that you’ve moved on and experienced a new you, you’re finally having the chance to reflect on the version of yourself that you lost and never got to properly say bye to.”
She reaches for your hand, “...it also sounds like you might be dealing with postpartum depression. It doesn’t kick in until 6 months, maybe even a year after birth. And before you disagree, it’s not just not being able to bond with your kids, it’s feeling lost and hopeless, heightened anxiety...wishing you were someone else.”
You feel as if a weight lays heavy on your shoulders as you process her words. Postpartum depression? The way she gingerly explains it makes it easier to understand and process. It makes everything you’ve been dealing with more clear, your conflicting thoughts and feelings for Hueningkai finally seem to fall into place.
“I-I think you might be right, I definitely need to sort things out with Jay and schedule an appointment with my therapist but thank you for being here for me.”
Yujin softly smiles, “I hope you do actually schedule that meeting with your therapist. Don’t prolong this, and I’m sure Jay will come around. Just explain everything and be truthful. You know he can’t stay mad at you.”
You open your mouth to correct her but your phone buzzes in your pocket before you get the chance. You take it out and see a notification from Sunoo. You open the message and see a link to a website. The header for the article leaves you winded.
Hueningkai of TXT issues a personal letter regarding his past relationship stating he’s still in love with his ex.
You don’t bother reading the attached message Sunoo sent and slap Yujin’s arm to get her attention. She looks over your shoulder and gasps as she skims the article as well.
Hueningkai’s apology:
Moa~ recently it has come to light about a past relationship of mine. I’m sorry for belatedly relaying news of said relationship now but I can not apologize for being a normal teenager and wanting to experience the thrill of a relationship.
I don’t know how the media was able to get a hold of such private information and I sincerely apologize to those who were caught in the crossfire.
It’s true that my past lover is Park _____, the wife of my label mate. If there’s anyone who deserves a sincere apology, it’s her. She has done nothing to warrant the hate she has been receiving, people have been making attacks on her morals, character and parenting skills. All of which have nothing to do with the situation at hand, she is an exceptional being and an even greater mother.
We have not engaged in an affair of any type, I have only met with her once, today being the first in nearly eight years.
However, I can not lie and say I haven’t missed her. Seeing her in person today reinforced my feelings, I never once stopped loving her.
I’ve caused her an immense amount of pain and a lifetime worth of trust issues and I can only hope one day she forgives me. But until then, I’ll do everything in my power to right my wrongdoings.
-Hueningkai.
“What the fuck.” You whimper, how could he do this? His ‘apology’ did nothing but add more fuel to the fire. You can only imagine how Jay is reacting to this. You pray he hasn’t made any reckless decisions.
You scroll down to the comments to see how it’s being received by the public.
omo he’s so brazen 💀 +366
she’s a married woman with children...this is a bit…. +987
she’s really been passed around 😭 -217
i wonder just how many more hybe men she’s slept with +38
he’s only made her seem cheap ㅠㅠ -21
i wonder what her husband is thinking… +765
it sounds as if he cheated… +92
i wonder why they called things off if he’s still in love with her 🤔 +10
8...years..? (°_°) -65
“The internet thinks I’m a whore.”
Yujin reassuringly pats your back, “they don’t know anything and you don’t owe them an explanation.”
You shut off your phone, “that’s not the point, Yujin. i’m being slut shamed and vilified because my ex doesn’t know when to keep private information private and my husband’s pissed off with me and this probably made it worse!”
“Then talk to him, _____. He’s rightfully upset because you still don’t know how to properly communicate with him even after all these years. It’s not too late to fix things with Jay and this whole Kai situation will work itself out once you work things out at home.”
You sigh, maybe she’s right? “I should get going, I still have to pick up the kids and make dinner. I’ll let you know how things go once I talk to Jay.”
You say your goodbyes before leaving to go to Chaeyoung’s home to pick up your babies.
It isn’t until 9:30pm do you finish with your household chores. You made sure to feed and wash up the twins, cook dinner for both you and Jay, clean the kitchen and catch up on laundry. You even made it a point to clean Jay's home office for him.
He doesn’t get home for another three hours. He walks right past you and barely acknowledges your presence. He checks in on the twins who are fast asleep and gets himself ready for bed. You try and get him to talk to you, to say anything but he only tells you he’s tired and falls asleep facing away from you for the first time ever in your relationship.
┕━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┙
Three days pass by of the cold shoulder from Jay. He makes it a point to wake up before you and leave early in the mornings for work. On the rare occasion you happen to wake up before him however, he takes his time in getting ready to avoid having to sit down for breakfast with you and simply kisses the twins goodbye before murmuring out an I love you in your direction and leaving.
Simply put, you’re over it. You want your clingy and loving husband back. Luckily for you, today’s Sunday The one day you know is promised for you. He doesn’t have studio time on Sunday’s because you all go to your in-laws to have a family brunch and come back home for a weekly reset. Granted he slept in today and you missed brunch but you still have a chance to make things right. You asked your parents to babysit for you so you would have the house to yourselves for a bit. That way all the pent up anger can finally come out without the fear of upsetting the kids.
“Where are the twins?”
You look up from your tablet where you have been outlining points you want to make during your conversation with him.
“I had my parents come get them while you were sleeping.”
He sighs, “why?”
You fiddle with the apple pen in your hands, “because we need to talk and we can’t do that if we have to censor our words because our kids are in the house.”
He stares at you blankly for a second before shaking his head. “I don’t have much to say to you, _____.”
You sigh and push aside the iPad, “yes you do. Just get it off your chest Jay! This marriage won’t work if you keep avoiding me and keep your emotions bottled up!”
He slams his hands down on the kitchen counter and huffs, “what the fuck do you want me to say, _____?” He looks at you furiously, chest rising erratically. “That I’m pissed off with you? That I feel like I can’t trust you anymore? That I feel like you never even loved me?” Your heart breaks as you listen to his rant but you don’t stop him, you need to let him get it off his chest in order to actually heal and move on from this.
“I was the one who was there for everything, I’m the one you came to when you returned to Korea! Hell I’m even the one who put everything on the line for you when I found out what he did to you! And yet, you were still in love with him. You couldn’t even pretend to be half as in love with me as I was with you when we first started dating. So yeah, I’m pissed off that now, years later- as my wife, you still can’t open up to me the way you opened up to him within four months of dating.”
You sniff and nod. “I do love you, Jay. I always have and y-yeah, maybe I wasn’t upfront with my feelings for you when we first got together but that doesn’t change anything!”
“But it does! It does change everything, _____! Do you know what it feels like to know you’ll never be enough for the person you love? It feels like fucking hell! And that stupid article didn’t make things any better!”
You stand from your seated position to embrace him but he only shakes his head and backs away. “J-jay, that article has nothing to do with what I feel for you! I’m sorry I keep hurting you, I’m sorry I’ve put us in this position but you have to trust me when I say that Huening really is in my past!”
“How am I supposed to trust you when you’ve given me every reason not to.” He blinks away his tears and clears his throat. “I need to work on some lyrics for our new album. I’ll be in my office.” Jay exhales, walking around the counter and past you.
“B-but it’s Sunday.” 
Both of you promised each other that as much as possible, Sundays are days off. Unless it’s extremely urgent, neither of you are allowed to work.
“It’s still Saturday in Seattle.” And without another word he retreats to his home office
Confused and guilty, you don’t know what to do in your own home. It takes about ten minutes for you to gather your bearings and finish up the dishes from breakfast. You can’t even think of coherent thoughts, mindlessly doing the chore until you’re finished and feel lost again with what you could do. After another five minutes pass, you decide to head to the bathroom and sit in the bathtub for an hour.
Once you dry off from your bath, you apply your usual skincare and opt out of putting on any makeup aside from some lip balm. You spritz on a little perfume and get dressed in some gym shorts that hug your butt and a loose fitting top before heading back downstairs to the kitchen to make Jay a plate of food to bring to him, praying that by now he’s cooled off a bit.
As carefully as you can, you quietly walk over to where his home office is and peer through the crack. You want to roll your eyes at what you see; Jay slumped back on his couch, his game console controller in his hands, and an annoyed, but focused expression on his face as he stares at the fifa game he had going on.
“lyric writing, my ass.” You mutter, knocking on the door to alert him before opening it. “I brought you some lunch.”
“Thanks. Just leave it there.” Jay mumbles, still concentrating on his game as he nods his head towards his coffee table. 
Your heart drops; he didn’t even spare you a glance. You set the plate to where he gestured and start making your way out until he grabs your hand. You flinch at his sudden action, turning your head to meet his piercing gaze.
He blinks up at you, anger clearly in his eyes, he slowly stands up and discards the controller on his seat. You’re starting to feel small when he’s towering above you. After a long stare-off, he breaks the silence, “Where’s your ring?”
You look down at your hand and it only hits you now that you forgot to put your ring back on after you finished your skincare. “In the bathroom; I took it off to do my skincare.”
He’s breathing deeply; the strength of his hand around your wrist varies.
You take this as an opportunity, while his attention is on you. “Jay please” You don’t know what it is you want from him so you do what seemed like the best choice; you step closer and kiss him.
He doesn’t respond though; just closing his eyes in response. 
“Jay.” You whine, running your hands up his arms and tiptoeing to kiss him once more, but his hand comes up to your neck and holds you in place, making you gasp in shock.
“How far did you two go?”
You grow flustered with his question; wanting to run away but his gentle hold on your neck keeps you planted. “Jay…”
He dips his head down, ghosting his breath over your cheek. “Surely, you two kissed. Probably made out, right? Was he any good?”
“Not as good as you-”
Jay scoffs and pulls away, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip deliberately, “You don’t have to stroke my ego sweetheart so answer my question.”
You shift uncomfortably. “I-I don’t know. I guess?”
He purses his lips briefly before clicking his tongue. His eyes drag down your body, tracing a path with his palm, “Did you ever get touchy with each other? Any below the belt touching?”
You can feel your arousal growing as he applies a bit of pressure to your neck, “Jay, I-”
“Just answer the question, baby.” He hushes, racing his free hand up to your chest, palming one of your breasts. “Did he do this to you?”
“Yes.” You whimpered, arching your body towards him; desperate for more.
“And being the little slut that you are,” He pulls you closer to growl into your ear, “I bet you liked it, doll?”
He flips you around, pinning you to the door and presses his erection into your ass. He still has a hand on your right breast, kneading it a little more roughly now. You loudly moan at the sudden turn of events, putting your hands flat against the wall to stop him from completely crushing you against it.
His left hand begins to travel dangerously low on your stomach while his hips are still rutting against yours, “Did his hands ever touch you here?”
“No.” You resolutely denied, “you’re the only one.”
He hums in approval, but his hands are back on your breasts, which makes you whine again.
“Please touch me.”
Ignoring your request, he kisses your neck, “So that’s all you did?”
You moan and nod your head adamantly. Jay steps away from you, cold air intruding the warmth his body provided. You impatiently look back at him, wondering why he pulled away.
Jay releases you completely and kneels before pulling down your shorts causing you to gasp at the cold air that hits your clit. 
Jay lets out a hum of approval. “Spread those legs for me, Kitten,” he says - though from the domineering tone, you know it’s more of an order. Without question you obey. The moment your legs are splayed wide. Large hands spread your thighs further before Jay presses his head between - then, he tentatively presses his tongue to your clit.
“Ah-” you gasp out, your hips automatically bucking into his face at the roughness of his tongue. Once again, he chuckles before licking a swipe from your cunt all the way to your ass. Your back automatically arched, pushing your hips further into his face. Jay teases you with a couple more kitten licks before pushing his tongue into your dripping hole, swirling his tongue around and collecting all your arousal on his tongue. He laps deep into you, thrusting his tongue in and out, palming his cock as you ride his face. Gently suckling on your clit, Jay presses his nose to your clit, expertly locating your g-spot and causing vibrations of pleasure to strum along them. Your vocal cords strained, voice cracking as you let out another cry. You feel your pussy walls ripple, abdomen twisting into a wrenching knot inside of you as he continues lapping your clit.
You simply can’t catch your breath, your head lolling helplessly to the side as your shoulders slump. You quickly feel your orgasm approach, the knot in your stomach twisting even further as Jay drives you to the brink of pleasure. Your hips move instinctively, grinding your pussy against his eager face as Jay buries it deeper between your thighs.
“I’m- oh gosh I’m going to cum” You warn, voice raspy and throat raw. You breathe deeper, gasps turning into low moans as your body seizes up, eyes rolling deep into the back of your skull as you come around his skillful tongue. Jay feels you gush around his mouth and lets up a bit to catch his breath before diving back as he licks and swallows up all of your cunt juice. You try to push him away, thighs still quivering as he continues eating you out. You squeal, the overstimulation of your orgasm paired with his continued ministrations driving you wild.
You feel him pull away, exhaling as your pussy finally has some relief. However, it doesn’t last long before suddenly Jay stands and grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a sloppy kiss, all wet from your saliva. You respond immediately; hands flying to his shoulders and hoisting yourself up on his body, prompting him to carry you by your thighs.
“You’re so fucking spoiled.” He groans. He reaches from below to push his pants down and slips his shaft in.
A moan erupts from your throat; his length slipping in easily with your arousal. You cling onto his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he starts pounding into you with immense force. You’re moaning in pleasure when his hands are practically clawing at your hips, ramming himself deeper and deeper.
Jay slowly makes his way out of his office making his way to what you assume is your bedroom but stops at the foot of the staircase and gently places you down on the first few steps, his dick not once leaving you. He puts you down to spin you around and enters you from behind; you’re convinced that your hips are bruised at how his fingers are digging into them to help him control the pace 
“Jay.” You moan, barely holding yourself up by your forearms. You reach beneath you to try and stimulate your clit, wanting just a little more something to climax.
He stops you from touching yourself, grabbing both your wrists and holds them behind you. He’s pushing all of his weight up into you, practically lying on top of you. His skin is hot and sweaty, sliding against your back.
It’s almost too much - the pleasure, the emotions, and the love you feel. Your heart begins palpitating in your chest, beating so hard and fast that your chest begins to ache. “Jay,” you whine, the sound high-pitched as you squeal from his ministrations, “I’m cumming,” you whimper though, Jay doesn’t need the warning. He already knows your orgasm is impending, from the way your thighs begin shaking and the way your walls clamp around him.
“Ah. AH- AH! Jay!” you finally sob. Your peak hits a crescendo, and your orgasm ricochets through you with more force than you expected. Jay groans, feeling your pussy ripple uncontrollably around his cock before tightening. Your walls contract rhythmically, and suddenly, his hips still as he begins cumming.
Rope after rope of Jay’s cum slowly fills you. His warmth practically burns inside you, coating your walls white and claiming every single piece of you as his. His cum spills out of you once he pulls out and he rests his forehead on your shoulder as both of you catch your breaths, rolling off of you.
Soon, you’re turning to face him. You lean in and place a kiss on his lips, this time he responds to it; opening his mouth so you could slip your tongue in.
Without breaking off the kiss, he sits up and cradles one side of your face with his hand.
“I’m sorry.” He quietly says in between kisses.
“I’m sorry, too.” You curl up into his chest as he leans back on the bannaster. “I should have just been honest from the start. You deserve to know.”
Jay combs back your hair for you, “You don’t have to talk about it today.”
“No. I don’t want to put it off any longer.”
“Okay, let’s get cleaned and dressed first.” He kisses your cheek before standing, helping you up as well.
Jay helps you clean up and carries you up the stairs to bring you into your shared room, he wipes you down with a warm cloth and dresses you in his boxers and oversized graphic before leaving to enter the bathroom to clean himself up as well to get dressed.
Five minutes later, Jay is back and clothed; sporting another plain tee and boxers. Sitting beside you, he patiently waits for you, angling his body to face yours.
“When you asked me if he was a part of my past I should have told you what I was thinking instead of avoiding the topic,” You pick at the bedsheets, “Kai and I were always complicated, and I can’t say I miss that or him but I do miss who I was before I lost him.”
You sigh, “these past few months have been hard and I should have told you when I first started feeling less like myself. I guess I thought it was all in my head and I didn’t want you to think it was you… I love you and what I feel for Kai-”
Jay tips his head at your sudden pause.
“What I felt for Kai, is nowhere near what I feel for you. He’s a part of my past and..,” You shake your head, “and I’m sorry for being so shady about it. I don’t look at Kai the way I look at you, I never can because I don’t love him. And it’s something that’s taken me time to realize but, I don’t miss Kai. I miss who I used to be when I was with him, before he ruined that.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you in the process of trying to figure out my shit but I can assure you that no part of me is in love with him. I’ve been feeling differently and it’s not because of anything you did or said,” You nervously laugh, “I talked to Yujin about it and she totally went all psychologist on me, but she thinks this is all stemming from a larger problem… she thinks I might have postpartum depression..”
He lifts his hand to your cheek to wipe away a stray tear you didn’t even know fell from your eye. “Postpartum depression?”
“Mmmh. My issues are stemming from my inability to let go of who I used to be to allow myself to be who I am now.” You inhale as deep as you can and exhale with an awkward laugh, “I booked a therapy session with Dr. Lee for Tuesday, we’ll know more then.”
Jay pulls you to him, kissing your forehead, “I’m sorry for not paying closer attention. I’m even more sorry that I’ve been such a jackass to you recently.”
“I should have communicated better.”
“Yes, you should have but as your husband I shouldn’t have missed the signs. I’m so sorry baby.”
You lean into him, slinging your arms over his shoulders. “Are we okay?”
He smiles softly and nods. “Of course we are.”
He grins, nose scrunching at how you curl up like a cat to cuddle his chest. You run your fingers over his hair, slowly and repeatedly, reciprocating the little smile splayed on his face. His lips are on your shoulders and neck, softly sucking on patches of your skin and murmuring sweet nothings.
“I love you.”
Tumblr media
You’re sat on the couch in your living room with Jay and his publicist with a random kdrama playing faintly in the background while the twins take their afternoon nap upstairs. It’s been a week since Hueningkai’s apology dropped and the press and fans are still raving over it.
There are protests outside HYBE demanding Hueningkai be pulled out of further TXT promotions indefinitely while some fans are still shading you and your integrity on Twitter. You never imagined your life would become such a hot topic yet here you are.
“We need to satiate the media,” Jay’s publicist, Jaemin, places down his coffee on the coaster in front of him and clears his throat, “I’ve talked it over with your manager, members and the CEO himself. We believe a statement from the two of you and the third party is a good way to clear the air and show to the public that there is no animosity or anything scandalous going on.”
You feel Jay squeeze your hand as he mulls over what has been said. “Why a statement? Where would it be posted? Is this really the best option?”
You pat his knee and chuckle at him, “what is this? 20 questions? At least let the man get a word in.”
Jay sighs and turns to face you. “I’m sorry, it’s just… the press has been slandering you all week and I don't want this statement to fuel that fire.”
Jaemin nods. “I understand your want to protect your wife from the malicious comments being made online and I can assure you that we will be reading all drafts and making edits as needed so it can’t be interpreted in a different way.”
Jay wearily looks at Jaemin before looking back at you. “I...I’m all for it only if you’re comfortable with it, love.”
You look at the two boys and ponder the possible outcomes. “I think we should do it. It’ll clear any and all tension and we can all finally move on.”
Jaemin smiles and stands, fixing his suit he says. “Great. I’ll leave you two then, send your final drafts to me and they’ll be revised, sent back over to you to read one last time before being posted on Weeverse. Your manager should be in touch soon, Jay.”
You and Jay stand as well to see him out. You thank him for his time and watch him drive away before going back inside.
“You’re awfully quiet… Do you want to talk about it?” You ask once you’re seated back on the couch. Jay spares you a glance before sighing and placing his hands on his knees.
“I know I said I would support your decision no matter what it was but.. are you sure you can handle this, _____? That it won’t be triggering for you?”
You purse your lips as you stare at his side profile. “I’m not on the verge of a mental breakdown, Jay. I’m stronger than you think.”
He turns to face you and takes your right hand in his. “I know you’re strong, _____. Your strength is a part of why I fell in love with you to begin with. I’m just thinking about what Dr. Lee said.”
You sigh as you think back to your joint therapy session with Jay two days ago. You opted to attend the first one alone, you didn’t think you could be completely upfront with your therapist had your husband been there in fear he would be disappointed with himself and blame himself for your actions and emotions. Once you had gotten the initial meeting over with, you scheduled a joint one with him for Thursday. It went better than you anticipated.
Jay takes a seat on the lounge chair beside you and peeks at you, letting out a sigh when he sees your face, “sweetheart, you being nervous is making me nervous.”
“I’m sorry.” You shake your head, “I just know things will be different once the hour is over.”
It breaks his heart more than it scares him that you think it’ll be that way. He squeezes your knee to stop it from bouncing. “Different isn’t always bad, I’ll better know how to care for you. This is what we need my love.”
There’s a knock on the door before it opens. A slender female walks in, wearing a black skirt and a baby pink blouse, and smiles brightly at both of you. “Ah, so this is the infamous Jongseong! A pleasure to finally meet you.”
He stands up to shake her hand and offers a smile, “likewise.”
She smiles once more at you as she sits down on the armchair and taps her finger on the clipboard she brought in. “So, shall we begin?”
You look at Jay and he nods at her, easing back in his seat.
She leans forward and crosses her legs.“How have you two been? The twins?”
“We’re doing okay, better than we were last week.” Jay answers, “the twins are good too. They’re spending the day with my mother.”
Dr. Lee nods her head at him. She turns to you, “You must be excited, I know I would be if I got some alone time away from my children.”
You feel your cheeks warm up, “the quiet home is nice, it’s been a while since I could hear a pin drop.”
She hums before looking down at her notes.“During our last session_____ explained to me feelings of loneliness and isolation, has she explained this in any detail to you Jongseong?”
You didn’t think she’d segway into your postpartum so abruptly; your mouth opens, but you shut it immediately. It’s not your turn to speak.
“She has, very briefly though. It was after we had an argument about her ex, I was upset and I also felt…betrayed. I couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just put him and their relationship to rest. I only really became more empathetic when she explained she might be dealing with a mental disorder.”
“I see. _____ did mention an argument during our last session.” Dr. Lee says as she makes some new notes in your chart before returning her attention to Jay, “I’ll get into her diagnosis in a bit but first, I’d like to know something. _____ explained to me the fight you had in the elevator and everything that followed..”
“It might be difficult for you, Jongseong, but I’d like to ask what you were thinking of from when you walked in on Kai conversing with _____, to confronting her in the elevator, until the night ended.”
“I tried calling her before I left to look for her but she wouldn’t answer and when I saw her holding her phone and talking to Kai, blatantly ignoring my call it just made me feel second place to him again. It didn’t help that she couldn’t be clear about her feelings, all I wanted to do after that was go back and punch the smug look off his face.”
“I see. Why were you so mad at Kai? He wasn’t the one who hurt you, so why take your anger out on him?”
Jay doesn't answer immediately, trying to properly think through his response. “He hurt _____ yet she was still hung up on him. I didn’t think it was fair that he continuously got a second chance with her when he never deserved it to begin with, all I ever wanted was for her to love me as much as she loved him...to open up to me like she did with him.”
“Hasn’t she?”
“No. It feels like I always have to argue with her before she tells me how she truly feels.”
Dr. Lee  nods, “Well, what if I told you she has? She might not flat out tell you what she’s thinking like she did with Kai but you can’t expect her to.” She sits up straight and places her chin in the palm of her hand. “The one person she trusted enough to open up to betrayed her trust in multiple ways. It won’t be easy to do it again. While she might not be at the level of completely opening up, she’s doing it in her own way. When she feels as if she’s ready, she comes to you, she takes her time to think her thoughts through so as to not hurt you. There’s no doubt that she needs to work on her communication skills but at the very least, she’s trying.”
You look at Jay to see how he’s receiving the news but his face is blank.
Dr. Lee watches Jay as well, waiting for a beat to pass before she clears her throat, “I officially diagnosed _____ with postpartum depression, also known as PPD. It’s a continuous pattern of mood swings, restlessness and reduced ability to clearly think. People with PPD can go through very intense episodes of emotions, such as anxiety and depression.”
She pauses to let him process the information, seeing his brows furrow ever so slightly.
“Symptoms of PPD,” she continues, “are feelings of loneliness and loss of self. People with PPD will often seek out people or things from their past to prevent this from happening; along with this, because they’re so focused on their past and what feels like is missing they can’t allow themselves to focus on the lives they have now.”
You don’t say anything, even though you feel like you should. But still, you don’t comment on it and nod at her. “This can lead to a lack of bonding with their children. While _____ hasn’t shown much trouble connecting with the twins there’s still a chance it could happen if we don’t properly care for her.”
“Is this treatable?”
“Yes, there are many options such as medication, therapy and even self soothing measures but your wife has elected to not medicate. For _____, this is what we call cognitive behavioral therapy; a type of therapy that tries to identify and change negative thinking and pushes for positive behavioral changes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get closure and putting this behind us.”
Jay nods and leans in to kiss your forehead, “okay. If you feel you’re ready then I won’t push.”
Later that evening the two of you sit down to draft your personal statements regarding the current situation before sending them off to Jaemin to revise. The edits are quickly made that night before being sent to you to read. Once receiving the stamp of approval from the two of you both are posted to Weverse and the response is rather surprising. You’re met with sympathy and grace, fans understanding how hard you must have had it these past few days. Engene step up and start trending tags for both you and Jay and you feel relief all over your body.
While Jay wasn’t your first boyfriend, your first kiss nor was he even your first love, he was the only love for you. And that’s the only love that matters, the only one that’ll last and go the distance. It’ll always be him.
Tumblr media
187 notes · View notes