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babylizzz · 1 month

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Posting bits of my recent reality to my personal blog because I need to process and vent, and I'm too broke to afford a therapist. Read or dismiss as you wish. Share advice if you please, but not judgement. Namaste 🙏🏻

November 24, 2023

I left my husband a little more than a month ago. So far, most people have respected my privacy and not asked what happened. But as the holidays approach, it’s becoming harder to avoid disclosing our separation, and I know people will ask why I left Adam. The answer can be simple – I was unhappy. I was sick of feeling so awful in my situation, and I realized I deserve to be happy. But simply saying I was unhappy sounds like I just wasn’t putting in the effort to connect with my husband. It sounds like I gave up and didn’t care to try. We have children, for goodness’ sake! Couldn’t I have stuck it out and tried to make things work for them? Oh, but I did. I fought for years, telling my husband verbatim what I needed to feel loved, begging for him to be an active and supportive partner. Sometimes it got better for a few days. We wouldn’t fight. He’d be helpful and loving. There would be physical intimacy. But I was always quickly reminded that the peace was too good to be true.

What exactly did my husband do that was so horrible? Was he just lazy and unhelpful? Well, I could tell you the worst things he ever did to me. Like how I once noticed he was jumpy while on his phone and always angling his screen away or closing all his apps when I entered the room. It wasn’t difficult for me to find out that he was entertaining another woman on Snapchat. I confronted him in the middle of the night. He swears it was never flirty or sexual. He only talked to her about life. He enjoyed that someone cared to ask about his day and showed an interest in conversation with him. As if I didn’t try to engage him between doing all of the childrearing and housekeeping by myself… I’ll never know if he was telling the truth about that, though. After all, people use Snapchat when they don’t want there to be evidence, right?

There was also the time he lied about cancer to get out of an argument. I don’t even know what we were arguing about – probably housework. But he apologized and told me he’d just had a lot on his mind. When I pressed, wanting to know more so I could be there for him, he told me his doctor thought he might have testicular cancer, which I knew runs in his family. He said he was supposed to go in for scans to confirm, but that he didn’t want to talk about it because he was too upset. I respected that boundary and didn’t bring it up for a while, just trying to love him and be there for him in other ways as best I could. Probably 2-3 months later, it was eating at me that Adam hadn’t confided in me regarding the results, so I asked about it. He didn’t know what I was talking about. I reminded him of our previous conversation, and so casually, as if it were nothing, he said, “Oh yeah, I just made that up so you’d stop bitching at me. I don’t have cancer.” This man had me fearing for his life and our future, and it was just a sick lie. That was only about 18 months into our relationship. I should have gotten out then.

There was also a time very recently – I know because our children were toddlers. I got home from work, and Adam immediately put on a show for them and beckoned me into the bedroom. He ordered me to strip and fully expose myself on the bed. I thought it not an appropriate time for relations, but the kids were occupied and I was afraid to anger him, so I let it continue. After I spread myself, Adam opened his phone and held it up to me. I covered my face and tried to get up, telling him not to take pictures of me like that, but he ordered me down. He kept looking back and forth from his phone to my body. Finally, I asked what the heck he was doing, and he showed me a faceless nude he had stumbled upon on the internet. The woman’s body looked just like mine, the same skin tone, stretch marks, and curves. I would have believed it was me, but I’d never taken a photo quite like that. I was enraged. How dare he force me on the bed, order me to expose myself, and question my faithfulness and decency! What ever happened to just asking a question and trusting your spouse? I told him how fucked up that was of him, that I was molested as a child by an older boy who forced me to do those same things. Adam apologized that I’d been through that, but he justified his actions because he “just had to be sure” that I hadn’t been sharing my body online for strangers.

All of those things, though, were easy to forgive for a while. I mean, I did excuse them for years until now, as messed up as that may sound. But none of those things hurt as much as the things he did regularly, weekly, daily.

Over the entire length of our 9-year relationship, Adam was abnormally jealous. He would accuse me out of the blue of cheating on him. When I got pregnant with our son, after the initial excitement, he questioned who the father was. We had stopped trying to conceive, but I guess that last try stuck. But to Adam, he couldn’t make it make sense, as if he knew my cycle like the back of his hand and fully understood how conception happens. He was sure I must have had another partner after we had stopped trying to get pregnant. Even until now, Adam will randomly question who our son’s father is, sometimes jokingly, but sometimes very seriously.

When we adopted our daughter, he would lash out when her crying woke him up too many times at night or when she'd throw tantrums as a toddler. He would frequently say that he wish we'd never taken her, that he didn't want "this," that he felt like he was being punished for someone else's poor decision to conceive her. Once her adoption was final after 3 years, Adam would still share these sentiments, but he'd add the caveat, "I mean, I love her now but..." The way this broke my heart was irreparable. For a long time, I could forgive his transgressions toward me, but to reject our daughter was unforgivable.

A few years ago, I became work-friends with my only male coworker, a man who I explained reminded me so much of my brother because he is Asian, a chef, and so good to his woman just like my brother is to his wife. I would only ever talk about the cooking and foodie things I learned from this coworker, but the mere mention of his name was very triggering for Adam, and he would be mad at me for days. I had to stop talking about the things I learned about my favorite hobby just because they were taught to me by a man.

Adam was also very controlling. I think he only ever asked for proof of my whereabouts less than a handful of times, but I had begun to recognize the signs that he was going to accuse me of not being where I said I would be. Without prompting, I would be so nervous that I would take pictures of my surroundings and snap screenshots of the timestamp as proof of my timeline in the event I needed them when I got home. Even when I provided this evidence, Adam still would not believe that I was being completely truthful.

When I started gaining confidence in myself when I made friends who would hype me up, I also gained confidence in my sense of style. I wanted to try wearing crop tops with the slightest bit of midriff showing above the belly button. On at least two occasions, Adam made comments about my intentions and stated he didn’t want me going out of the house like that.

Adam also would not respect my “no” in the bedroom. Sometimes he just wouldn’t let it go. Other times he would try to guilt me into doing things I didn’t want to do. Sometimes I would oblige, and when I was less than enthusiastic, he would get upset and start a fight. Still other times, he would say, “I’ll just get it somewhere else.” He would ignore my emotional needs, stating that if I'd just meet his physical needs, maybe he's be a better husband and father. How could I get sexually close to him when I felt abandoned in every other area of our life together?

Adam was and is very quick to anger. He would pick random fights and blame them on me. He would ignore me for days and wouldn’t even tell me what I had done wrong. In most cases, I had done nothing wrong. He would say nothing was wrong, but his attitude and actions would say otherwise. He would shoot me hateful looks, scoff, and shake his head as if disgusted. Sometimes I would begin to consider whether I actually had done something wrong and would apologize. Other times I knew without a doubt that I had done nothing, and I would apologize anyway just so he would talk to me. Most times, I would just take the mistreatment and withholding of love until Adam grew tired of it. Most times, when it was convenient for him, usually when he wanted sex, the cold shoulder would be over, and he would start talking to me as if nothing happened. He never once apologized for these days-long cold shoulders.

It goes without saying that I was always walking on eggshells. Sometimes I would be ridiculously nervous to bring something up for fear of his emotional or verbal reaction.

Adam would use intimidation tactics during arguments. Any time he was mad, he would slam or even throw things. He would beat on the wall and block doors to prevent me from walking away from the argument, and once before we had children, to prevent me from leaving the house. Once during an argument that was not even our worst, Adam cornered me in my tiny closet-office. When it got heated, he punched a hole in the wall right next to my face to intimidate me. I think that if I’d cowered in that moment, the violence would have escalated that day and from that point on. But I didn’t cower. I was bold and angry and told him if he ever did anything like that again, I would take the kids and be gone before he could blink.

Sometimes during arguments, Adam would belittle me, saying, “Let me put it in a way that you can understand,” before proceeding to speak to me as if I were a child. He would gaslight me, discredit me, making me question my reality, whether the way I remembered things was actually how they had happened. He would say, “It’s not my fault you can’t take a joke,” and, “I’m sorry that’s how you perceive it.” He would insist that an event or conversation never happened. He would always tell me he remembers what I said or did better than I do, stating, “You’re clearly not remembering correctly.”

He would place blame on my past behaviors to excuse his current behaviors, stating that if I had acted differently, he wouldn’t be this way. He would withhold love when he was mad, even when he was at fault. This included not talking to me, hugging me, kissing me, and ignoring me when I told him I loved him. He would even refuse to sleep in the same bed, sometimes because he couldn’t stand to be around me and other times just to intentionally hurt my feelings. He would tell me that I was just being dramatic, sensitive, or hormonal, sometimes stating, “Maybe you really do need therapy.”

I’m sure there are other things I could rattle on about. There’s so much that I can’t keep track of it all. I would tell him when these things would hurt me. I would even use words like “controlling” and “manipulative.” It never meant anything to Adam. He rarely responded with remorse, love, or compassion. One night toward the end, I was fed up. I didn’t want to feel unwanted and unloved anymore. I told Adam I wanted a divorce. His response to that was the most sorry I’d ever seen him. After a few weeks, we started marriage counseling. I think things got a little better in the day-to-day, but when he got mad, he would go right back to his cruel habits.

A few months into counseling, on a Sunday, there was a women-only family thing I attended. The time had been moved to later, and no one had told me, so I was out while Adam was stuck at the house with the kids for longer than I had intended. Adam called me, telling me that this thing that was entirely out of my control was unacceptable. He demanded that I leave and come home immediately, but everyone had just gotten there, and I’d carpooled with my mom, and I wasn’t going to make her leave because of him. I became indignant and told him that he could handle a few hours doing the same thing that I do all day every day. He told me that becoming a stay-at-home mom after being laid off was what I had asked for and to stop whining about it. I told him that I really didn’t want to be yelled at and have this argument with him in front of my family, and I hung up. We didn’t speak of it when I got home.

The next morning, Adam called me into the bathroom while he was getting ready. I had cleaned off the bathroom counter that weekend and thrown away 3 or 4 empty deodorants. I guess one wasn’t empty as I had thought. That morning, Adam screamed at me about deodorant, calling me a liar, insisting that the two blue deodorants I was speaking of never existed, and repeatedly asked why I would lie about it. All I had done was try to help clean up his side of the sink. I even apologized for mistaking the good deodorant for an empty one and accidentally throwing it away. But he was so fixated on the blue deodorant, how he never buys blue deodorant, when I was sure the details of those two blue containers would be my saving grace and make him realize that I really was telling the truth. Why else would I remember those details? But it didn’t matter. He was always right, and I was always lying. I walked away from the argument when our 3-year-old son came in and said, “Guys, guys, it’s okay. Just calm down.”

I realized then that things would never change. No amount of marriage counseling could fix what was broken. His irrational, angry episodes that got out of hand were becoming more frequent and more severe, and I was unwilling to see how far they would go.

In 4 hours, I packed everything the kids and I would need for at least a month, and we left for my parents’ house.

Part of me doesn’t want to blame Adam. He didn’t understand the magnitude of the damage he was doing to my psyche. But the rest of me remembers how many times I told him he was hurting me, that I didn’t want to be with him the way he was, that I didn’t want that for our children. That should have been enough for him to want to change. I shouldn’t have had to threaten divorce, to leave, to give him the exact terminology for gaslighting and psychological abuse. You don’t do these things to the people you love, and you sure as hell listen to them when they are crying for help.

I know our friends and loved ones will see me moving forward quickly and think I must have been cheating on him. I must not have loved him. I must not have cared about our family and our marriage. But I did. I fought for our marriage for years while the man who was supposed to be my partner ignored me. And when I couldn’t fight for our marriage anymore, I fought for survival, to keep our home together so our kids could at least have both parents around, even if they didn’t have the healthiest relationship. But I deserve better than that, and so do our children.

I am not unaffected by this. It was the worst feeling in the world breaking heart of the man I considered my best friend for 9 years, watching him crumble in front of me. It was incredibly difficult to maintain my resolve in the weeks that followed as he begged me for another chance. And it’s freaking terrifying not knowing what our future will hold as a result of my decision.

I will continue to mourn the loss of my marriage – all of the hard work, love, blood, sweat, and tears that went into trying to make it work. I will mourn the loss of the strong family unit I thought my children would grow up with. I will mourn the loss of the plans we had made for the future, the life we wanted to build. But what I want my family to understand is that I have been unhappy for years. I struggled for years with the realization that I knew had to leave. It just took me a long time to finally be ready. So if it looks like I’m moving on too quickly or seem okay with this all, it’s because I began mourning the loss of life as I knew it years ago. I have been broken for too long. Now it’s time for me to heal and be happy.

#rant post #personal post #divorce #separation #psychological abuse #emotional abuse #narcissistic abuse #gaslighting #manipulation #toxic relationship

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umitscomplicated · 1 year

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Deerest

The second date with Deer was on Tuesday. Since I went out near his house last time, and I had to work a little later that night, we met up closer to my house this time. First we went out for dinner and drinks at a pub.

We were having some casual conversation about our histories being poly and dating life and things like that. He tells me a story about one of his exes, and how things ended badly with her. He was describing the situation, and I asked him if she has bipolar disorder. He gave me this wild look, and said, "Yeah… How did you know that?" I said that it was hard to explain, it just made sense with what he was saying about her, and sometimes I just have a hunch that’s hard to really define, from my years of experience with assessments and diagnosing. He asked if I have bipolar disorder, and I said yes, but it’s bipolar II, and that’s not why I knew. I told him a couple of stories about how I have in the past been able to guess things about people, and can’t always explain about why I know the things I do, it’s just how my brain works. He asked me to tell him something that I just knew about him that he hadn’t told me. I had an immediate thought but it was a big one… I thought about it for a little while, and couldn’t think of anything else that stood out, so I just said it. “I don’t think you have autism.”

On our first date, he had made a few comments about it that really threw me off. He said “...but that’s because of neurodivergent stuff” and that his therapist suspected he has autism, but that it hadn’t been confirmed. My brain had apparently been stewing on that since the first date, because that was what stood out when he asked. I explained my reasoning, which is that half of the diagnosis is deficits in social skills, and I hadn’t seen any evidence of that, and had in fact noticed him having social skills, rather than struggling with them. He also seemed to do very well picking up on nonverbal communication and reading body language. I gave the caveat that I obviously hadn’t known him very long, and that I didn’t know him well enough to know if he had any of the restrictive, repetitive patterns of behavior that are the other half of the diagnosis. He then said that several mental health professionals - like he listed off multiple professions - and multiple psychiatric tests said that he does have autism. I pointed out that last time he brought it up, he said it wasn’t confirmed, and that he had asked me for an insight I had based on what I knew so far. We had some discussion on overlap between different diagnoses and how autism is a hot topic right now. We finished dinner and decided to go to a cidery a few buildings down which I hadn’t been to yet.

We go to the bar and order drinks. We each got a flight because we hadn’t tried this place before. We go and find a table and start chatting again. Then there’s some commotion behind us, because there is apparently some type of live music happening. This was just before Christmas, so of course it was Christmas-themed music. The group of musicians was all older people, and they had some pretty varied instruments. They were also singing, terribly. Like really terribly. And then, they bring out the kazoos. Yes, KAZOOS. The annoying plastic buzzy things. We are sitting there trying to hard to hold in a combination of horror and laughter, and wondering if it’s okay to start chugging our drinks. My ear holes felt assaulted. We did our best to talk through the music and finish our drinks and leave. There’s an elevator that I saw people get into earlier, and I wanted to see where it went, so we got in that. It turns out there’s a shop both above and below the bar (the street is a story lower at the back of the building), but the buttons were disabled because the shop was closed. So we were just there, alone in an elevator that wasn’t moving. And feeling that elevator tension. Making intense eye contact. He says, “We should probably get out of here.” I say, “Do you want to kiss me first?” He was already leaning in. And it was a really, really good kiss.

We held hands and walked back down the street until we saw a spot with a fire pit, and sat on the couch together next to the fire. We sat with my legs over his lap, cuddling and kissing and talking for over an hour. I told him, “I think I really like you.” He said, “I think I really like you too.” We talked about when we could see each other again. We both had off work the next Monday for some holiday, but his partner had to work. He invited me to come over to his house during the day while she would be gone.

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hmslusitania · 2 years

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It tightens its grip when things go unsaid

A soft (??) 5x14 coda built on like a dozen posts I saw on my dash this morning. It sure went. A direction.

“Oh my god, you kept this?”

Eddie freezes in place, paused with his hands and the broccolini under the frigid water of the tap.

“Kept what?” he asks, attempting for casual. It had been a lot easier to maintain a calm disinterest before Frank but as it turns out, part of getting better was giving up playing numb.

Buck pulls the drawing off the fridge, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. Gives himself that much longer to deny it.

“Eddie,” Buck prompts, and there’s laughter in his voice but there’s something else too. Something softer, gentler.

“It was — Chris said I—” and he pauses again. Because yes, Chris had said he should keep Buck’s heart drawing, but that wasn’t why Eddie had done it. And he’s spent enough time filtering his feelings towards Buck through Chris. “I liked it.”

Buck snorts and pins it back under the magnets. “Makes me feel bad. I shoulda drawn you a better one.”

“I didn’t draw you one at all,” Eddie replies which is probably nonsensical.

“It’s not like I’ve got a fridge to hang it on anymore anyway,” Buck points out.

He doesn’t. Not with the way he’s been sleeping on Eddie’s couch since he ceded his apartment in the breakup. He’s been in Eddie’s house for two weeks now and Eddie can’t fathom how Buck has missed the drawing so far.

It’s later when they’re on shift, and everyone else is passed out, that Eddie gets the idea. They don’t exactly keep craft supplies around the station, but he finds some paper and a pencil and by the time Bobby wakes up to come get started on breakfast, Eddie’s gone a bit overboard. Partway into the exercise, he’d noticed one of Hen’s surgical textbooks lying in the loft and flipped it to the relevant page, and as it turns out, the art classes he’d taken in high school — the ones he’d insisted were just because he was crushing on a girl, which made them acceptable — hadn’t quite worn off.

The piece of art he’s scribbled down in graphite isn’t quite an anatomical heart and it isn’t quite a photorealistic depiction from the textbook and it isn’t quite the cartoony simplicity Buck had given him. It’s not nearly so digestible and easy to accept. He thinks the thing he’s supposed to do with something like this is being it to his therapist the way a pet cat brings a dead animal, but he doesn’t. Instead, he avoids Bobby’s questioning gaze and takes it downstairs. He tapes it to the inside door of their locker, and forgets about it seconds later because the bell goes.

He doesn’t think about it again until the second Buck opens their locker after their shift is done. He pauses, head tilting sideways, and Eddie considers ducking behind the shelves and hiding his face in the stacks of towels.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” Buck says. “This is, like, cool.”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“It’s cool,” Buck says. He gently unpeels the tape from the locker and just stares down at the drawing. “Would it be weird if I got this as a tattoo?”

“If you got it as—seriously?”

Buck looks guileless when he lifts his gaze to meet Eddie’s eye. “I don’t have a fridge.”

Eddie almost points out that this is why he’d put it in the locker, but something in Buck’s face stops him. He almost points out that Buck’s skin is not interchangeable with a fridge, but he doesn’t do that either. It’s the visual representation of Eddie’s still battered but healing heart and Buck wants to ink it onto his own flesh.

“If you want,” Eddie says finally. “But I won’t be offended if you change your mind by the time you actually get in to see an artist.”

Buck grins but it’s too soft around the eyes to be a real flippant smile. “I won’t.”

#the title is from the song invisible thread #which is the most buddie song ever #helped by being written and performed by a married gay couple #9-1-1 #911fic #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley#the ghost ship scribbles

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edwardskhakipants · 3 years

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Forks, Washington. August 2004.

Esme and Carlisle stood in the middle of their grand living room, waiting for their five vampire children to arrive. Alice arrived first—prompt as usual. She settled herself gracefully onto the tufted sofa Esme had recently acquired, only to be immediately jostled by Emmett who heaved himself onto the cushions. A breath caught in Esme’s throat—she had lost many pieces from her beloved collection by that action—but it looked like this one was still in one piece. For the moment. Jasper took Edward’s normal spot in the only armchair, forcing Edward to wedge himself between Alice and Emmett.

“What?” Rosalie grumbled as she perched on the armrest of the couch beside Emmett, “Are we having another one of those How to Respect the Telepath in Your Life meetings again?”

“No,” Edward answered, fully aware of the intent of this meeting since it hatched in Carlisle's mind two days prior. “But there’s never a bad time to bring that up. Christ, Emmett, if you’re going to have a song stuck in your head for over seventy-two hours, the least you can do is learn the correct lyrics.”

Emmett’s eyebrows knit together, asking his brother a silent question.

“It’s ‘mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’” Edward answered.

Emmett’s brow furrowed doubtfully.

“No.” Edward shook his head, answering Emmett’s thoughts. “Why would he eat a beetle?”

Emmett grinned playfully and tilted his head towards Edward.

Edward wasn’t amused. “You know what it means.”

A silly grin plastered on his face, Emmett elbowed Edward in the ribs, silently egging him on.

Edward’s eyes darted to Carlisle, then Esme, and he shifted in his seat. “Sexual desire,” he muttered.

Emmett howled with laughter and clapped his hands once, “Wow, Eddie! You’re just going to say that in front of Esme!?” Edward scowled as Emmett’s bouts of laughter echoed through the room.

Esme ran a hand through her youngest’s ginger hair. “Boys,” she warned, and Emmett sucked in his laughter.

“Our meeting today has to do with all of you,” Carlisle began.

“We simply wanted to go over the rules of attending school with you kids before you start your second year at Forks High School,” Esme explained, unfolding and re-folding her hands in front of her. “There are already whispers, and we don’t want those whispers to turn into rumors.”

“I thought the only whispers about us at school were whether or not Edward liked girls,” Rosalie said, earning an eye-roll from Edward.

“No,” Alice chirped,” Some kids think we’re a cult.”

Jasper leaned back heavily in his chair. “We haven’t heard that one since the Seventies.”

“Kids are getting more creative these days.” Emmett nodded appreciatively.

Esme held up one, delicate finger. “Which is why it is best to take preventative action.”

Carlisle took the floor. “We thought a few reminders would be helpful before you started your first day of your second year,” Carlisle said. “We don’t want another incident like the one we had at the end of last year.”

Every head in the room turned towards Emmett.

“What?” Emmett threw up his hands in exasperation, “The water gun fight was the senior prank—I wasn’t the one who brought them to the school. Hell, I wasn’t even the only student who got suspended!”

“That’s true,” Carlisle agreed, “but you were the only student to shout, ‘Sit down, kids! Daddy’s gotta tinkle,’ and shoot the stream of the gun from your crotch.”

Jasper snickered—the sound was immediately silenced by a single raised eyebrow from Esme.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Emmett continued, “That’s not necessarily a vampire thing.”

Edward—who often mistook himself as the third vampire parent rather than the youngest son—sighed, “Yes, but it brings unnecessary attention to the family. Which is the first rule: do not bring attention to yourself.”

Esme ran her fingers through her son’s hair once more, “Yes, darling, you are especially good at keeping to yourself.” Edward’s eyes widened, despite Esme’s gentle touch, already aware of where her point was headed. “So much so, that I have been given the names of several child therapists to help my son through his depression. One was recommended for his exceptional work on spotting and treating the early signs of sociopathic behavior.”

Esme grabbed her son’s chin and forced him to look at her. “You have to talk to other people.”

Knocked off his high horse, Edward flinched back from Esme’s hand. “Friendship with humans never bodes well for us.”

“We’re not asking you to create lifelong friendships with humans,” Carlisle clarified, “We are simply asking you to be likable.”

“A nearly impossible feat for Edward.” Rosalie grinned. The comment went unnoticed, save Edward’s slight flinch. But the quick, little tick was satisfying enough for Rose.

“Look at your father,” Esme gestured towards Carlisle, “At every hospital he works at, he goes out of his way to ensure he is well-liked among his colleagues. He forces down countless lunches and coffees, solely to make sure they’re comfortable around him.”

Carlisle took over. “And your mother, a beloved member of her gardening club and a prized member of the PTA.”

“And neither of us have rumors started about us, and do you know why?”

All five teenagers grumbled the ingrained response. “Humans don’t want to spread rumors about people they like.”

“Exactly.” Esme nodded.

“I try!” Alice whined, “But Edward never lets me talk to any humans.”

“That’s because every, single thing that is about to come out of your mouth is incriminating. You might as well walk around with a neon sign that says, ‘I’m a psychic vampire’.”

Alice scoffed, “Is not!”

“You wanted to tell Nihal Howard not to audition for the musical.”

“And he broke his leg on opening night,” Alice challenged.

“You were going to tell Christiana Ward that pink was not her color.”

“And she lost prom queen to Ashley Kirby.”

Jasper put a comforting hand on his wife’s knee. “Maybe try not to meddle so much, darlin’. Natural relationships, first.”

“They would have been!” Alice wailed, “I would have played it cool and casual and made friends and you all would have seen it! But everyone’s hurt and I have no friends at all because Edward won’t let me try!”

Edward rolled his eyes.

Carlisle suppressed a heavy sigh. “You have to let your sister try, Edward.”

Edward’s mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be siding with her on this!”

But Carlisle stood his ground. He and Edward stared at one another for a few seconds, engaged in a silent conversation. In the end, Carlisle tilted his chin and Edward slumped back. Victorious, Alice used both pointer fingers to jab Edward in the side several dozen times at vampire speed.

Rosalie flipped her golden locks over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you all struggle so much. I have no issues with becoming well-liked at school while remaining inconspicuous.”

“Oh yeah, you’re so inconspicuous,” Edward grumbled, now extra-petty that he had been called out two times in one meeting. “You dress like you're on your way to brunch at your second husband’s country club in Beverly Hills and you make out with your foster brother. The perfect picture of discretion in Forks High School.”

“At least I don’t dress like a sad, old man.” Rosalie grimaced, disappointed in her comeback. The light, humorous insults that were required in family situations were Emmett’s forte; Rosalie’s insults were meant to emotionally cripple a person.

Edward sat up in his seat on the couch and turned to face Rosalie. “I think you missed the main takeaway in that you make out with your foster brother.” Edward turned back. “I can read your minds, and I still don’t understand what made either of you think it was okay to bring your relationship to school?!”

Emmett smiled, unperturbed. “It’s hot.”

“It’s disturbing,” Edward disagreed.

Esme frowned, “You kids don’t really do that, do you?”

“Would it help if Jasper and I became an official couple too?” Alice suggested. Jasper perked up at the idea of being able to hold hands with Alice in public again.

“No!” Edward yelled at the same time Emmett and Rosalie muttered their acquiesce.

“It wouldn’t seem as weird if there were two couples,” Emmett agreed.

Edward dug his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god!”

“...maybe not, kids,” Esme intervened, but was ultimately ignored.

“So should we come out today like it happened over the summer, or make a little show out of it?” Alice asked Rosalie.

Rosalie waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s way more fun if you play up the theatrics.”

“A little more realistic, too,” Emmett agreed.

Alice looked to Jasper for his opinion. “It might be better if we were discreet about it,” she said. “Like we knew it was wrong, but we wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of our love.”

Jasper scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Or we could let it be quiet and drawn out. Let others see our mutual pining, and root for us to be together.”

Gazing deep into the golden eyes of her soulmate, Alice sighed, “I love that.”

“If people wanted us to get together, it would normalize Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship.”

“Or Rosalie and Emmett could stop,” Edward suggested, bitterly. “That would be normal, too.”

“Oh, Edward,” Alice patted his shoulder, “You’ll find love someday, too.”

“That is not at all what bothers me about the situation.”

Carlisle made the decision for everyone. “Rosalie and Emmett, break up at school. Alice and Jasper, remain friends and siblings.”

Disappointment filtered into the room through Jasper.

“I heard that,” Edward grumbled at someone’s thoughts.

“You were supposed to,” Rosalie shot back.

“We are also initiating a new rule,” Esme brought the room back to the conversation at hand, “No more correcting your teachers.”

A chorus of complaints rang from the couch.

Esme clicked her tongue, “I’m tired of defending you all from entirely preventable issues. I have emails from curious teachers wondering why my foster daughter is taking French 101, when she already appears to be fluent.” Esme looked at Rosalie, who immediately tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or why my son, at the tender age of sixteen, could not only deadlift three hundred pounds in his first weightlifting class, but also give his coach tips on improving his posture.”

Emmett glanced over at Edward before he realized Esme was, in fact, addressing him. “What!?”

Jasper snorted. The sound was a mistake, for it brought Esme’s wrath onto him. “And not to mention the emails from not one, not two, but three teachers warning me that my foster son has an intimate understanding of the mechanics of a point fifty-eight caliber rifle-musket.” Esme held out her hands, almost pleadingly, “How does that subject keep coming up, Jasper?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only answer Jasper had for that question.

“No more,” she commanded. “You can get good grades but keep your extra knowledge on any subject to yourself. Whatever your teacher teaches is all you know. Understand?”

“But what if we—” Edward started.

“Understand?” Esme repeated.

The five teenage vampires understood, even if they didn’t want to.

“I believe that all five of you will graduate from Forks High School!” Esme cheered.

The kids stared back, unable to muster the zeal Esme had over the prospect.

“Meeting adjourned!” Carlisle announced, and faster than fast vampire speed, the kids bolted from their seats.

Esme was able to get in a few more reminders as her children flitted around the house and filed out to the silver Volvo. “Remember to buy lunch with cash and not your credit cards. Emmett, please do not joke about being mauled by a bear. Do not address your teachers by their first names—I don’t care if you’re older than they are, Edward. Alice, please wear something a bit more causal, pet.”

When the house was finally empty, Carlisle pulled Esme backwards into his chest and began massaging her temples. The gesture wasn’t needed, but any touch from her husband was always welcome.

“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked her husband.

“Not a chance.”

#this bad boy had been swimming around in my head for awhile #please enjoy #my other fics havent been cullen centric enough for me lately #so i had to do something #twilight fic #twilight fan fiction #and thank you to the editing queen edwardsmate4ever for beta'ing for me #youre a queen

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

ABO Dynamics.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts.

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[ Author’s Note : 物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I wrapped the white wool shawl tighter around my shoulders. The night was still chilly and the and smelt faintly of impending rain. Why they would plan a party outside while it rained, was beyond me.

After my little skirmish with Jungkook, I had found Namjoon quickly only to be told that we couldn’t leave for another hour at least because there was a certain investor who wanted to meet Namjoon . The guy was running late and he had to wait for him. So here I stood, shivering lightly, all while keeping an eye on my husband as he got progressively drunk.

Namjoon’s words made me sigh a little.

“You can’t decide what someone else’s normal is, Namjoon. Especially when it comes to grief. But the drinking is an issue. And you’re right about the therapist. I know she’s doing her best but I’m not sure if she has the right answers for him. Or even the right tools to help him.”

“I’ve been searching up on therapists who specialize with alphas. There’s one in Itaewon , his name is Kim Taehyung. I really think he could help. He’s an alpha himself.”

“That sounds good. Betas may not fully understand alpha mating bonds or what it’s like when one of them dies. Taehyung may have a better understanding of what Jungkook’s going through.” I nodded, a little hopeful.

Therapy with the beta lady the hospital had recommended wasn’t really helping Jungkook the way it ought to.

Namjoon hesitated.

“Would you be willing to go with him? Taehyung insists a family member stay in the waiting room just in case...” he asked gently. I turned back to look at my husband, leaning on the mahogany countertop of the bar, fingers curled around a glass of whiskey.

“And I’m the one you want to consider for that? That’s ridiculous. Jungkook hates me.” Did I really have remind him of this salient fact?

“I’ve offered to, before. He doesn’t want me there." I sighed as Jungkook threw the drink back with ease.

“That was three months ago though. Things have changed now right?” Namjoon prodded.

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not between us they haven’t. He’s spending more time with Mina and he isn’t throwing stuff around but he still loathes me.”

“He loathes what you represent: his own shortcomings and failures. Your father wasn’t kind in his approach and you are a reminder of all the things he can’t control.”

How fucking unfair, I thought playing with the tiny ring on my finger ( or should i say handcuff really? ), my wedding ring , the platinum band engraved with my husband’s name, a drop of his blood embossed into the metal.

An archaic tradition, that carried no meaning in modern Seoul but the idea of it was still alive and well. The idea that what we had was a blood bond, imbued in our veins now. An alpha’s connection with a beta or an alpha mate was usually quite fragile. But an alpha and omega mate bond. That was supposed to be powerful.

Unless the alpha was still phantom bonded to a dead wife , that is. It was odd thing. Mate bonds had to be mutual to work. So there was no bond between Jungkook and I . We didn’t have any feelings for each other of course. But wearing someone’s blood on yourself changed that . it forced a bond that wasn’t there. It was ancient magic and it worked on my kind. Not on his.

How fucking unfair because it wasn’t like I could control any of this either?

I grimaced. I had thought of taking the ring off

“Ouch.” I said with a smile. Namjoon waved off my self pity with an eye roll.

“You know what I mean. Even for an Alpha, Jungkook has always held on to his pride. Losing his wife and his company all in the same week probably left him feeling incredibly helpless and your father browbeat him into this whole thing. Of course he isn’t going to be eager to share heart to heart talks with you. ”

I held my hand up.

“I know all that Namjoon. I was there, remember? And I’m not blaming him for any of that. Trauma makes you do shitty things and I understand that . I also understand that if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t behave the way he does now. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t change his mind for him. If he doesn’t want to get help, I’m kind of helpless myself, you know?”

Namjoon reached out and squeezed my hand.

“I’m just asking you this because , he does listen to you at times. I’ve noticed it. He doesn’t outwardly agree with you but he takes your opinions into consideration. And, Heejin you live with him and you’re the one who managed to convince him to start scenting Mina. ”

And God, how exhausting that had been. I had kept at it because Mina was so young and she needed her father’s scent to grow. And while i could be persistent when necessary, I couldn’t work miracles.

“Namjoon oppa, “ I said softly, trying to explain myself without sounding like a horrible human, “ I don’t hate Jungkook. Far from it. I want him to get the help he needs and I’m here for him. If you can convince him to go see Taehyung and he’s okay with me coming along, I won’t say no. Mina needs him and there’s nothing I would like more than for him to get better. ” i smiled a little, “ But he’s still going to have to be the one to make that choice. i can’t make it for him.”

Namjoon nodded.

“ Fair enough. Well, I’ll talk to him about it. We’ll set something up. Thank you for not refusing Heejinah. I know it can’t be easy for you either.

I opened my mouth to respond but out of the corner of my eyes I caught a glimpse of someone, staring intently right at me.

I turned sharply, eyes locking with those of Kim Yugyeom and I stiffened, stepping closer to Namjoon on instinct. Yugyeom smirked, winking at me.

I shuddered in disgust.

Creep.

Namjoon followed my line of vision and swore.

“This motherfucker.” He made to move towards him. and I grabbed his arm, fingers digging into his forearm. The last thing i wanted to witness was an alpha alpha showdown in the middle of a party with me in the middle.

“Please, no. Don’t make a scene. It’s what he wants.”

“Jungkook has the shittiest friends on the planet.” Namjoon shook his head and I couldn’t agree more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mina’s appointment with the doctor went about as expected. She was right on time with her milestones and I sat in the waiting office for a mere twenty minutes before being called in. The doctor, an alpha named Min Yoongi gave me a small smile of recognition before flipping through the pages of her file.

“ Jungkook didn’t come along?” He asked casually, grabbing a pen and making a note of her weight and length before plotting it on the small graph. She was a little on the smaller side but she was growing well.

“He’s busy...” i said with a shrug, “ So I still keep giving her the polyvisol supplements?”

Yoongi nodded, “ The nurse will fill in the prescription for you. Are you sure he’s busy? He called me last night and told me he wanted to come see me?”

I blinked.

“He did ? “ I couldn’t quite process this.

“He wanted to talk about how she’s doing and I told him he could come in for her appointment today.”

I imagined a world where Jungkook actually spoke to me, instead of forcing me to navigate stormy waters on rotten plywood. Nine more months, i told myself firmly, already digging for my phone. Nine more months and I would be out of this living hell I’d gotten trapped in.

“Can I try calling him? He’s probably forgotten. I think he might regret missing out.” I begged and Yoongi gave me a small smile, waving me off.

“Of course you can Heejin-ah and tell him that if he wants I can drop by at the office and talk to him as well.”

I nodded quickly , moving out to the waiting area while the nurses held Mina, soothing her before getting her ready for her shots. I tried calling him and not surprisingly he didn’t pick up. I called his office next and Jungkook’s secretary picked up the phone .

The woman hated me.

“He’s busy.” She said curtly.” He’s specifically asked me not to bother him with stuff that isn’t important.”

Her whiny voice grated on my ears and i bit my lips to keep the irritation in.

“Since when does his daughter make that list, Ms Lee?” I said calmly and she hesitated.

“He’s in a meeting right now and-”

“I’m in the hospital with his daughter. I hope you’re willing to take the heat when he finds out that you wouldn’t let me get through to him. “ I said casually.

It was a twisted version of the truth for sure. Meant to imply that Mina was hurt in some way. But I couldn’t bring myself to regret it much. I had enough on my plate without dealing with twenty year old secretaries who fancied themselves in love with their hot boss.

“I... just a moment, Mrs. Jeon.”

I loathed the name. It wasn’t mine. It was hers and I felt like a thief every time someone addressed me that way.

After two minutes, Jungkook’s familiarly low and perpetually exhausted voice came out ,

“Hello? Heejin?” He sounded listless and his voice just a little slurred and i groaned.

“Please tell me you aren’t drunk.” I whispered.

“I’m not. “ He said shortly. “ What’s wrong? What happened? Is Mina alright? ”

“Did you tell Yoongi that you were going to meet him today?”

He was quiet for a second.

“i’ll talk to him.”

He hung up and I stared at the phone. I realized that I shouldn’t have called him in the first place. Should have asked Yoongi to call him himself. What was wrong with me? Even a few syllables exchanged with Jungkook felt like staring into an abyss .

I moved back to the clinic , just as Mina plaintive wail filled the room. The shots were done. It took us another thirty five minutes to finish filling her prescriptions and for Yoongi to finish examining her. She was already dozing off and I wasn’t supposed to feed her for another thirty minutes so perhaps the nap would do her good. I had just finished settling her into her Bjorn carrier when Jungkook’s voice came from the entryway.

“Is this the way to Dr. Min’s office?”

I glanced back to watch him . He looked ridiculously handsome in a three piece suit, jacket thrown over his arm and hair lightly damp from the misty drizzle outside. I saw the secretary’s mouth actually drop open and stay agape as she tried to process his questions. i could see the way his beauty had rendered her entirely witless and as someone who had experienced it first hand , i could sympathize,

But Jungkook was beginning to look annoyed from the lack of response and i decided to give the poor girl a break.

“He’s waiting for you.” I called out and Jungkook startled. He glanced up at me and for some reason he looked surprised. He always looked surprised when he saw me. As if i was just some monster out of his worst nightmares turning up in odd places . As if he couldn’t quite believe that i did exist in his life now. Unwelcome but impossible to avoid.

“You’re here.” He said blankly.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

“Yes, i am. I’ve been here for three months now. “ i said shortly, before i could stop myself, “ Mina’s fine. She just had her shots. I’m going to drive home and put her down for a nap. Do you want me to come with you ?” I pointed at the clinic.

He hesitated before shaking his head.

It was all according to script then. Jungkook would never include me in a single thing. Even if i was smack damn in the middle of the room with nowhere else to go.

“Alright. i’ll see you after work.”

“We’ll have guests for dinner today. ” He said suddenly.

I stared at him, confused.

“For dinner??”

“ Sooah’s parents.”

Oh, God.

Wary of the extra nurses suddenly filling the room, the little whispers and the curious glances, i kept my smile even.

“Of course. ” I bowed a little before turning on my heel and walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sooah’s parents were, for lack of a better word, selfish .

They had lost a daughter, so of course i could understand with their need to keep their daughter’s memory alive. But the way they chose to do it was unhealthy and borderline vindictive.

" She’s growing well.” Mrs. Kim had the same statuesque figure as her model daughter and she held her grandchild with a slightly unsure grip and Mina felt the uncertainty in her grip, breaking out into cries at once. I stayed still, my throat dry from disuse. I hadn’t said a word since they came in.

We were seated at the table, dinner was done.

Jungkook sat next to me, staring straight ahead while his father in law tried to engage him in conversation.

With Jungkook, the grief came in waves. Some days, the waves were small and gentle, like the ones that lapped at your feet on the shore of a tranquil lake. on those days e went about his day as usual, spoke to his friends and signed deals. And somedays they were big, behemoths carrying guilt and accusation, crashing over his head with a vengeance.

On those days , he looked like he’d been run over by a two ton truck.

Today was just one of those days and i could sense it.

The man was going on an on about some charity that Sooah had been involved in as a young girl... Could Jungkook make a contribution in her name?. Could Jungkook pay for a concert of her favorite singer in her hometown..? Could Jungkook possibly consider contributing to opening a foundation in her name?

I could feel the urge to scream, grow by the minute.

Each syllable that spilled out of her father’s mouth was aggravating, the sentences began and ended with her name, over and over over again and It felt terribly like she was standing right next to me, ice cold and dead but real and relentless at the same time. He spoke of her like she was still alive and i couldn’t fathom how that was healthy. How that was going to help Jungkook move on.

If anything it made it harder for him to move on.

And in a moment of chilling clarity, i realized that this is what they wanted.

They didn’t want Jungkook to move on from her. They wanted him to be consumed by her. In the wake of that realization , i felt anger surge.

There was just enough hurt and heartbreak and pain and grief in this room without these idiots adding to it.

“Jungkook is tired tonight, uncle.. Perhaps we can discuss this later.” I said finally, unable to bear it any more.

The man gave me a glare.

“I wasn’t talking to you girl.” He said sharply. I frowned.

“We’re trying to help Jungkook. “ The woman said sharply. “ Unlike you and your father we do not prey on the weak. “

Jungkook shifted at the phrase and I glared at her.

“He isn’t weak. “ I snapped, resisting the urge to add on a you bitch , “He’s grieving . And what he needs is space to process his grief. Not you people trying to shove your daughter into his throat with every sentence. “

“Don’t you dare talk about our daughter!” Mrs. Kim snarled and i felt a headache come on.

“I thought that was why you were here? To talk about her? Or should I say use her as an excuse to get money out of him?? What you’re doing is unfair and awful!! . Jungkook isn’t ready to talk about this and one look at his face should tell you that, if you even bothered looking at anything except his wallet.” I shouted.

“Heejin, that’s enough.” Jungkook said hoarsely and i bit my lips.

Of course he wasn’t going to support me even if we were on the same side. Defending him, protecting him was exhausting and it was such a thankless job. i wanted it to end.

“I think we should call this a night. please, just leave” I said sharply, standing up and reaching for Mina. She glared at me but handed the baby over.

“You don’t get to make that decision. My son in law is who I’m here to see. You’re just the parasite that’s attached herself to him. You sit there in my daughter’s place and you dare disrespect me this way. ” The woman snapped.

“Its still my house. “ I gritted out. “ I’m married to Jungkook whether you like it or not and so i have the right to ask you to get out of my house.”

“Heejin, stop.” Jungkook’s voice only made me angrier. He sounded drained and empty and still these leeches wanted to suck him dry. And he was too blind to see it.

“I’m done with this” I stood up moving to the small pack and play that sat in the corner of the living room. i placed Mina in and watcher her eyes flutter shut gently.

i turned back to stare at Mrs. Kim.

“i want the pair of you to leave. Get out before I call security.”

She gaped at me.

“you had a wedding... that doesn’t make it a fucking marriage. “ she sneered. “ Its probably not even legal until you consummate it. So go ahead, call the cops right now. You think i wouldn’t take you to court. ??!! ”

She was spouting absolute nonsense, probably driven by her own grief but i wasn’t feeling particularly charitable tonight.

“Why don’t you ask your son in law that? Ask him if the marriage was consummated or not...” I smirked.

She faltered, eyes wide and disbelieving.

“No. You’re lying ...he wouldn’t.” She turned to Jungkook who looked at me with fury in his eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He said sharply and I scoffed.

“With me? What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with these idiots that they think they can come here and ask you to sign a fucking cheque when you’re still out here grieving for their daughter?!”

“You don’t know shit about them or her...”

“I don’t have to. I don’t have to and i don’t care to either. All I know is that i married you and you’re my husband and whether you meant those vows or not, i did. I swore in front of my God and my family and I’m going to keep those promises. I’m going to protect you because I love your daughter . I’m going to protect you because you need to fucking live to be able to care for her. “

i turned to stare at his in-laws. They were staring at me, some of the fire dying out and in the span of a few minutes they somehow looked older .

“You don’t deserve to be here.” Mr. Kim said finally, voice cracking and i exhaled.

“And yet, here I am. And I’m not leaving. you are.” I said calmly.

They stared at me for one more second before standing up and moving out of the dining space and into the hallways leading out.

“We’ll call you later Jungkook-ah...” The man said before walking out of the door and slamming it shut behind him.

The silence between us grew heavier as the seconds ticked.

“We can’t decide how people grieve.” Jungkook said softly.

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re telling me that , Jungkook? Or did you forget all the times I indulged you when the only way you could grieve was apparently by forcing yourself on me.” i snapped.

His eyes widened , just a fraction before going blank again.

He took a deep breath and went on.

“They lost their daughter and they’re hurting. We can’t tell them they aren’t allowed to honor her memory...They’re clearly in pain...”

“Not more than you!” i snapped. “ You’re the one in pain here Jungkook. Your pain is so much more than theirs ..... Or may be it isn’t i don’t know.. But i do know that I can’t sit here and watch them bleed all over you when you’re cut just as deep as them.”

“You don’t know shit about e!” He roared. “ Don’t you fucking dare talk about my grief like you can understand it...like you actually know what its like to lose the woman who had your fucking heart, because if you did you wouldn’t have agreed to this fucking marriage...you wouldn’t be here in this room with me, intruding on my grief and my pain... “

The sound of his voice made my entire body freeze in fear. I stayed perfectly still, jumping when he crossed the distance between us and grabbed my face, fingers curling around my jaw.

“ You want to know how i wanted to grieve? I wanted to grieve in solitude!!! I wanted to grieve without some fucking stranger hovering over my shoulder like a fucking plague!”

I exhaled shakily, fingers trembling as i reached up to hold his wrist, my entire jaw throbbing with how hard his grip was.

“It’s the price you pay for getting your company back. Jeon Jungkook. “ I choked out.” Or did you forget that marrying me is the reason you aren’t homeless on the streets “

He laughed a little yanking me closer and wrapping an arm around my waist.

“You’ve learned to talk back these days...” He muttered , “ I think I preferred the girl who hid in the nursery for the first three weeks of our wedding.”

“I wasn’t hiding . I was avoiding you. Because your misery was contagious and i didn’t want any of it on me.” I snapped and his hold on my waist tightened.

“Are you trying to make me angry? ” He snapped, fingers curling on my waist and I swallowed the whimper of pain that threatened.

“Maybe i am... Maybe anything is better than watching you walk around this house like a corpse. You’re alive so I don’t see why you act like you died with her.”

He growled at that, eyes blazing as he stepped back enough to stare into my face.

“You’re right... I didn’t die with her. Although i wanted to...Maybe if i wasn’t such a fucking coward, i would have gone through with it. .” He laughed and I felt my heart go ice cold at the very thought of it.

“You didn’t die... So why don’t you get some help. There’s no shame in getting help... Taehyung...”

“I don’t need help. i need to be alone.” He snarled. “ I need to be allowed to cry and mourn my wife the way I want to but you and your father made sure that i couldn’t.”

I sighed, looking away in defeat.

“Fucking look at me!” He snarled, hands grabbing both my arms and yanking me forward. “ Why won’t you look at me huh? is the guilt finally catching up?”

“No. No guilt. Just loathing and resentment.” I snapped back and he laughed again.

“Well too bad. Because you know what? You’re right. I paid for my company with my right to grieve and you...you paid for my name with your right to say no . “

I swallowed as he yanked me away from the table, dragging me to the couch in the side.

“ I never refused you a thing.” I choked out, breathing ragged as he shoved me into the soft leather surface, crawling on top of me at once. “ I only said no when you were drunk out of your mind. When you thought it was okay to fuck me and call me by her name.”

He made swift work of the buttons of my blouse and I stayed still, arms lying by my side.

“ Are you telling me you want this ? You expect me to believe you want my hands on your body?” He sneered, fingers moving up to grip my hair. “You don’t want this and you don’t want me....Just like i don’t want you either. i’ll never want you. ”

“You don’t want me.??.. You have a funny way of showing it..” I scoffed , staring right into his eyes rolling my hips up into his , greeted by the hard press of his length against my thigh. “ And to be honest i don’t give a damn if you’re still in love with her , all I want is my name on your lips if you want to get off with me. Because I’m not just a toy you can use to replace your dead wife. I have a name and you should remember it. "

He growled again, fingers squeezing hard against the back of my head till my scalp felt like it was on fire.

“I hate you. “ He said clearly. “ I hate you and everything you’ve done to me.”

“Everything I’ve done to you? Oh you mean save your life? Taek care of your baby girl like she was my own? Give you the chance to rebuild your entire career.? Turn you into multi millionaire again? Good. Hate me. The feelings mutual. “ I snapped. “Now if you hate me so much why are you still here? Get off me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, wife.” He sneered. “ Because like you said, I’ve paid for this.” He drawled, reaching down and squeezing between my legs. “And I’d be a pretty bad businessman if i don’t collect from my investments.”

Before I could retort, he pulled back, just enough to grab me by the waist and flip me over on my front. I flinched when he grabbed my arms, yanking them back and trapping my wrists together in his fist at the base of my spine. My cheeks pressed into the leather couch, sticky and uncomfortable.

i heard the sound of his zipper, the clink of his belt buckle.

Coward.

I shivered when he pushed my skirt up.

“Don’t enjoy this too much, yeah?” I snapped, “ You hate me remember?”

“Easy enough to forget its you when I don’t have to look at you.” he retorted.

He slipped one arm under my waist, lifting me up just enough for him to yank my panties down.

“Just remember , you don’t get to blame the alcohol for this .” I sneered. “ You’re sober and clear headed and you’re hard for me. “

Somehow that seemed to bother him.

He stopped .

I could feel the hesitation in his limbs.

It made me laugh.

“You know Jungkook, i took you for lot of things but a coward wasn’t one of them.”

“What the fuck does that mean huh? I should put you in your fucking place for how insolent you are with me... ” he pressed down on me and i gasped when I felt his chest pressing into my back, his face inches from my own. I flinched when he sank his teeth into the mating mark on my neck.

“it means that if you’re going to do this, if you’re going to talk big about putting me in my place like the big bad alpha that you are, at least own up to the fact that you’re attracted to me. ”

“ You forget your fucking place, omega.” he hissed, voice sharp and furious against my ear. “ Another word out of that mouth and i won’t be responsible for what i do.” I gritted my teeth when he curled his fingers around the inside of my thigh, parting my legs and settling in between.

He pushed into me in one strong thrust and my eyes flew open in shock.

“Fuck.... why are you so fucking tight...” He groaned and my shoulders began to throb as he fucked into me, setting a punishing speed that left both of us panting . We were too fucking would up for it to last any longer than a few minutes and yet, i could feel pleasure swell inside me, wetness seeping out of me and onto the leather couch beneath us.

I wondered just how fucked up this whole thing was. Just how much damage were we doing to each other?? But it was hard to care too much about it, because even if though it was a terrible way to talk things out at least he had talked. It was nothing new....nothing earth shatteringly enlightening but he had said it all out loud and that made a difference.

“You think you can come into my life and dictate how i fucking live.” He grunted against my ear, fingers tightening on my hair. “ it pisses me off.”

“Everyone dies, Jungkook. People die and they leave loved ones behind but Life goes on. It has to go on. You can’t just pause life to grieve. Mina needs you.” I felt my eyes begin to sting with tears, the adrenaline from the argument fading and my body threatening to go limp as he drove into me at the same punishing pace.

He didn’t respond, fingers closing around my throat and squeezing lightly instead.

“Save your platitudes before i decide that the warmth of your body isn’t worth the grate of your voice on my ear.” He snapped and I whimpered when he stilled, spilling into me.

He stayed pressed up against me. breathing harshly against my ear and i waited till both our breaths evened out.

“It’s not selfish to move on Jungkook. You aren’t insulting your wife’s memory by wanting to move on. “ I said softly. ” Someday your heart and mind will agree with me. Whether you like it or not. That’s just how pain works, Jungkook. One day it’ll pack itself up and walk out of your heart in the middle of the night. You just have to hold on till then.”

He didn’t reply, merely drawing himself up and off me.

Once i heard the door to his bedroom slam shut i dragged myself up , thighs shaking and sticky. I grimaced at the mess on the couch. I stared at the packet of baby wipes on the table nearby and shuddered. That just felt wrong.

I’d just have to go grab a washcloth from the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On that weekend, we had another dinner to attend, this time with a few investors from out of the country or so Namjoon told me.

Although we didn’t talk about what happened and he didn’t try to touch me again, things were subtly different.

Something had changed in the way Jungkook behaved with me. There was a little less of the usual zombie like indifference and he actually seemed to be avoiding alcohol actively. It was a welcome change. But to make up for it, Mina went into a growth spurt. Which meant ten minute naps every hours or so with wailing sobs in between.

i was exhausted.

So much so that Jungkook told me that he didn’t want to pick Mina up from Seokjin’s place till the next day.

It was a little past one in the morning when I finally trudged into the apartment. Jungkook wasn’t black out drunk but he was definitely a little loose limbed, eyes just a shade more glassy than usual.

“Tonight went well. I’m thinking the guy from Macau is definitely going to consider investing.” He muttered, gripping the door frame and taking off his shoes.

I toed my own heels off, feeling upset and bereft.

“Why would you tell Jin oppa that we’ll get Mina in the morning? She’s not used to being away the whole night.” I complained, feeling jittery and nervous because the house felt so empty and strange .

I didn’t like the idea of being alone with Jungkook without the buffer of his daughter between us. The house felt foreign, the walls seemingly closer together , the space to cramped.

Jungkook dropped his keys in the bowl and tugged on his tie, watching me carefully.

“It’s too late and Jin hyung said she was already asleep. He’ll drop her off in the morning. Just relax. Would you like a drink?”

I stared at him.

What now?

He looked nervous and a tad worried.

Swallowing , I shook my head, turning on my heel.

“I’m going to bed.” I was almost at the door to the nursery when he grabbed my arm, seemingly moving faster than I could breathe.

“Wait, Heejin… “ He stopped, worrying his lip between his teeth before sighing, “I… I need to say something..” He finished and I exhaled sharply.

I tugged on my arm but he wouldn’t let go.

“Jungkook , let me go.” I said sharply. “ I’m not in the mood tonight . You aren’t drunk now and I’m running out of reasons to excuse your actions.”

His hold on my arm relaxed but he didn’t let go.

“Namjoon hyung told me about that new therapist.... Kim Taehyung?? . I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said roughly.

I sighed, defeated. It was expected and yet it stung. I wondered if perhaps I was just beating a dead horse at this point. But Mina deserved to have a father who loved her with all his heart and Jungkook’s heart was so filled with grief it had no place for his daughter. If there was any chance I could help change that, I would take it.

I tugged my arm away again and this time he let go.

I tried to smile encouragingly. it was hard because i was all out of comfort, my own exhaustion too overwhelming at the moment.

So I took a deep breath and reached out to lightly touch his arm.

“Listen, no one’s asking you to make a decision tonight, Jungkook.” I tried to smile a bit more widely but it probably came out as a grimace, “ Just sleep on it and think about why you think it isn’t a good idea. Taehyung’s an alpha and he may understand you better. Think about it and you can let Namjoon know later.”

He didn’t reply, merely staring at me till I began to feel a little hot around the collar.

“Well, Good night then.” I made to turn away but he grabbed me again, this time by my wrist.

“Wait.”

Patience wearing just a little thin, I stared at him, waiting as he requested.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night. At the party last week. About you not being her mother. I shouldn’t have said that.”

It was the first time he had apologized for anything.

It took me a second to even remember what he was talking about.

“Alright. I’m not mad. And I understand why you said it. Its fine. And you’re right. I’m not her mother and I should be more careful. ”

He nodded and then stepped back.

“ I’m sorry. For a lot of things. ” He bowed awkwardly and I could only stare at him, shaking my head. The apologies were somehow both welcome and abhorrent to me.

They were the kind of apology you would offer a stranger. And that made them insincere because I wasn’t a stranger. I’d been through too much these past few months, to be treated that way.

For now I could only accept them at face value.

“ Its alright. Just go to bed Jungkook. And listen to Namjoon oppa . I know you don’t trust me but you should trust him. He only wants what’s best for you. ”

I sounded twenty years older than I actually was and grimaced.

"There’s one more thing. Can I... I need... “ He stopped and stared at the floor.

I felt a huge sense of foreboding rise up at that.

“Are you going to pull the i paid for your body card? “ I said bitterly. “ You made it very clear that i can’t say no. I don’t see why you’re bothering to-”

“You can say no.” He said softly. “ You can say no.”

And then he looked up at with limpid doe eyes, shining with all the stars in the galaxy and I wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all.

“ And if I say no, where will you go? To a brothel? you’ll come back smelling like another beta or omega and you can’t come near your daughter till it fades. Which is what? A week? “

Jungkook didn’t say anything and I felt helpless.

“Is that why you sent her away tonight?” I demanded and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What? No. Of course not . i just...You looked exhausted. I thought you’d like a night off. And just... I don’t want to have sex. Can you just sleep with me. I just... I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“What’s so special about tonight?” i rolled my eyes already moving to his bedroom instead of the nursery.

He stared at me for a few seconds, eyes empty in the dark of the hallway.

I waited a whole minute before sighing. This was excruciating and my heels hurt from wearing heels all evening. i wanted to curl into the air mattress on the floor of the nursery , possibly lie sleepless till dawn and then drive down to pick Mina up from Jin’s place.

“Jungkook , let’s just go to bed and forget-”

“Its her birthday.”

I barely heard him, his lips barely moved and his voice was so low.

I stared at him. Not sure if I’d misheard.

“What?”

“Its her birthday. “ He repeated.

“You can say her name.” i said calmly. “ You’re not betraying her by saying her name out loud in front of me.”

He went a little stiff at that and i wanted to kick myself for the remark. What a hypocrite I was. I’d reprimanded Namjoon for trying to dictate Jungkook’s grief and here I was , doing the exact same thing.

“I’m sorry. God, Jungkook... I’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that. i didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me.. I... of course you don’t have to be alone. Should i call Namjoon oppa? Or Jimin?” I asked gently.

“It’s Sooah’s birthday.” He was still staring at the floor, apparently he hadn’t heard a word I’d said.

I had a sudden flash of memory, remembering that Jungkook used to sing. He had sung at his wedding seven years ago. Serenaded his wife as she walked down the aisle. I had been young then but i remembered thinking how evident his love was in every syllable sung .

Something i could hear even now, in the way he said her name.

“Okay. What would you like to do? I... I can make seaweed soup.” I said softly. “ We can go see her if you like?”

He stared at me.

“I want to go alone.” He said finally.

I hesitated.

“I’ll drive you. i’ll stay in the car. You can’t drive.” I reminded him.

Jungkook’s driver’s license had been suspended after one too many traffic violations. I drove him around often .

He didn’t reply, staring out of the huge bay windows and i sighed.

“Alright... Why don’t you go change into something more comfortable yeah? i’ll get the soup going and we, “ i bit my lips, “ , I’m sorry, And you can go see her. “ I smiled, before moving to the kitchen and grabbing the dried seaweed. I soaked it in cold water, before getting the beef, garlic, soy sauce, salt and pepper and the sesame oil from the cupboards.

Ten minutes later, the soup was boiling away and I peered out at the door leading to his bedroom. I was still wearing the cocktail gown and my head was beginning to throb. I oved to the nursery and stripped quickly, slipping on my white t shirt and a pair of pink corduroy shorts.

I would be in the car anyway. By the time i finished taking off all my make up, the soup was done and Jungkook was slumped over the counter. He looked drained, more so than usual . In fact he looked notably worse than how he was ten minutes ago.

Torn between the urge to draw him into my arms and the helpless knowledge that he would absolutely hate me touching him , i merely hovered near the stove, pouring the stove into a small airtight container.

On a whim I moved to the cupboard in the corner that housed all the crockery and threw it open.

“What was her favorite bowl?” I said casually, staring at him.

He blinked, staring at me like i was speaking a foreign tongue.

“Her favorite bowl , Jungkook The one she always drank or ate from?”

He swallowed but leaned his palms down on the granite countertop, levering himself off the tall stool of the kitchen island and making his way over to me. I stepped back, giving him space to peer into the depths of the black marble shelves.

He finally stuck a hand in and drew out a pale yellow and mauve bowl , a little worn but intact.

He held it carefully, running his fingers gently over the bowl, savoring the surface his wife had once caressed with her own fingers. I watched as his lips curved, a pale pale imitation of a smile but a smile nonetheless and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

This was probably the first time he’d smiled in the three months i’d known him.

My heart began to pound, a steady staccato that began rising in volume and i willed myself to stay calm.

“I..uh.. I can wash it for you.” I said softly .

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come and he stared at my outstretched hand like it was a snake .

Face almost eerily blank he cleared his throat.

“I’ll do it.”

i watched as he moved to wash the bowl under the spray from the faucet and finished clearing up the kitchen. i grabbed a small bag to keep the sea wood soup in and held the bag open when Jungkook finished washing the bowls. He grabbed a fresh kitchen towel and carefully wiped down the moisture before wrapping the bowl in the towel and keeping it inside the bag, carefully.

I smiled and zipped the bag shut.

“Lets go shall we?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat waiting in the car, staring out into the darkness of the parking lot, while the rain poured torrents outside the glass windows of the car. I felt unaccountably alone, like I was the only human being left on the planet.

It had been a little past an hour since Jungkook had disappeared into the building that held his wife’s ashes. I wasn’t sure if i should give him a call. Had he fallen asleep in there.

I told myself I would wait another hour and if he didn’t come out, I would go check on him.

I dozed lightly against the window, exhaustion beginning to creep in. I wanted to sob at how tired i was. I could have gotten a full nights sleep, something i hadn’t had since the day I took Mina into my arms.

But then, i remembered the tiny smile that had sprung up on his face and i grinned despite myself. That was progress wasn’t it? It definitely was. I was sure that if only Jungkook could be convinced to go meet Taehyung , the alpha therapist, things could get so much better for him. I wanted to have him at least halfway to being ..... capable of handling his own daughter, before i left him. if not the worry alone would eat me alive.

I was just getting ready to perhaps climb over the console and nap in the backseat when my phone rang.

I glanced at the dashboard, frowning. it was two thirty in the morning.

Who?

I grabbed my phone from the bag and my heart leapt to my throat.

“Jin? What’s wrong? What happened to her?” I could feel my heart threatening to give out, any number of terrible possibilities running through my head in a vicious loop.

“nothing happened, Heejin , take a deep breath... She’s just running a fever. it was quite low earlier but its hitting 101 now and I’m getting a little worried. I’ve given her cold baths and kept a wet towel on her but it doesn’t seem to be coming down.”

“We’ll be there in ten minutes! “ i said quickly.

“I’m sorry, Heejinah, i don’t have any experience with babies and-”

“it’s alright...thank you for calling me oppa!” i hung up , already fumbling with the door and stepping out into the rain. i was soaked through in three second flat. What a day to wear a white t shirt.

I ran quickly, stumbling a little on the gravel pathway and hoping to God i was going the right way. I ran into the foyer, the poor security guard falling asleep over his desk glancing up at me in sympathy.

“there was a man here earlier?”

“Second floor third room.” He said casually.

I nodded, already rushing for the steps. I climbed the four flights of stair in two minutes, my heart threatening to give out. I found Jungkook in the room , kneeling on the floor and he looked at me in shock that swiftly turned to anger.

“Jungkook-” i gasped because the run up had robbed me of my breath.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He moved so quickly I could barely blink before he was right up in front of me.

“Jungkook, I... We need...” I tried to draw a breath in but before I could form the words he grabbed my arm, so hard that I whimpered in pain.

“I told you i wanted to be alone, what the fuck is your fucking problem?!” He snarled.

“Jungkook-” Before i could finish, he yanked me just a bit closer to him before shoving me out of the room with his wife’s portraits and the small ornate vase that held her ashes.

it wasn’t that hard.

He didn’t push me in a very brutal way.

In fact it was probably with lesser force than what anyone slamming a door would use.

But,

Jungkook was six feet two. He weighed a 170 pounds.

I was a hundred pounds wet and barely came up to his shoulders.

And it was just my luck that the wall opposite to the door had a large concrete and granite horse figurine placed right in front of it.

I crashed into the torso of the equine, my bones rattling inside me and I whimpered when my wrist made contact with the hard surface, bending a bit out of place.

I slid to the floor in a wet lump, trying to catch my breath and process what had just happened.

Jungkook stood frozen by the door horrified as he stared at his hands, as thought he couldn’t quite fathom what he had just done.

A sharp burning pain began in my sides and I gasped out.

“Oh, fuck.” I swore.

Jungkook moved to help me up but i was already crawling away from him, scrambling to my feet, ignoring the ache in my side.

“I’m sorry.” I said softly, holding both my hands up. “ It’s Mina...she’s running a fever. We need to go get her.”

“Heejin-ah, I’m...”

One more apology and i would officially lose it, i thought slightly hysterically.

“its my fault.” I said sharply, “ I should have probably tried calling you from the car instead of barging in like this but Jin called and i got worried...I wasn’t thinking straight so I’m sorry about that... I think we should go get her as soon as we can.”

“Did i hurt you?” He demanded , reaching out for me again and I nearly fell again trying to move away from his touch.

“No.. No I’m fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure, we don’t have to go the doctor.? “ He asked nervously, watching me carefully wipe down her body with the slightly damp wet cloth. I nodded, carefully squeezing the water out before dipping the towel in water again.

“She’ll be fine. Her fever’s come down and with babies this young, its safer to care for them at home than to take them to a hospital.” I said casually,

“I wasn’t talking about her.” He said stiltedly.

I blinked, staring up at him in surprise.

“What?”

“I think we should go to the doctor. You fell hard. ”

“Jungkook what are you even on about?” I said crossly, steadfastly ignoring the pain in my sides. It was sharp and unbearable with every breath I took in but I was too terrified to go to the hospital and have them tell me I’d cracked my rib or something.

Partly because that would be so inconvenient.

Partly because Jungkook would probably go back to being a guilt ridden shadow of himself if that happened.

“I’m going to call Yoongi hyung.”

Before I could protests some more he was already on his feet, moving to the living room.

Yoongi arrived thirty minutes later , annoyed and sleepy, dressed in a soft white t shirt and stone wash jeans.

“It’s four thirty in the morning , she better be dying Jungkook..” He rasped out near the front door and i flinched at the murderous tone to his voice.

Suddenly , i hoped desperately that my ribs had cracked.

Yoongi stepped in , staring at me . He took in the mess of quilts i sat on and sighed.

“Come here and take your shirt off.” He said gruffly.

I blinked, feeling blood rush to my face. Was he always this handsome? Hating the very unwelcome flutter of nerves, I moved to stand in front of him, grabbing the hem of my t shirt .

But the movement jolted my rib and pain sharp and lancing shot through my side. I yelped and dropped my hand again breathing harshly which only seemed to make things worse.

I swallowed and Yoongi blinked, reaching out to gently grip my elbows.

“Hey...relax ... “ He said gently.

I felt the press of a warm chest at my back.

“Let me help hyung.” Jungkook’s voice rumbled through my body, his chin brushing the top of my head and he bent over me from the back, fingers gripping the hem of my shirt and carefully lifting it up to just above the curve of my breasts.

Yoongi was staring at Jungkook over my shoulders expression unreadable.

“So you do know how to act after all.” He commented drily and I heard Jungkook inhale sharply behind me.

“Hyung...” He said sharply, and Yoongi merely rolled his eyes.

“How did this happen?” He ran slender fingers all over my skin, feeling each dent and dip carefully.

“I ..uh.. I sort of fell into a statue? It was made of concrete and quite heavy.”

His face shifted into a frown.

“Jungkook , tell me you didn’t push her.” He said sharply and I jumped a bit.

“No...he didn’t.” i said sharply and Yoongi ignored me , staring right at the alpha behind me.

“I didn’t mean to.” He said finally.

“You broke her rib, kid.”

I groaned in defeat. Behind me Jungkook stiffened.

“It was an accident.” I said sharply and Yoongi gave me an unimpressed look.

“If i had a won for every wife that told me that.”

“It was my fault and-” I shut my mouth. I did sound like the poster child for abused wife in denial.

“Relax... I’m not going to send your handsome husband to prison.” He chuckled. “ This time.” He added, giving Jungkook another glare.

“It won’t happen again. ever. “ Jungkook’s voice shook a little.

I sighed, already imagining the self flagellation that was probably going on inside the alpha’s head.

Yoongi’s voice drew me out of my head.

“Its not a break. It looks like a crack which is easier to heal. But i still want you to come in tomorrow. We’ll get it x rayed. Its going to take a couple of months to heal.”

I gaped.

“Months?”

“As long as you take it easy you’ll be fine. Now where’s the little one?”

Yoongi dropped off a small bottle of pediatric paracetamol and told me to keep an eye on her temperature before bidding us goodbye.

Once the door closed behind him, Jungkook turned to me , eyes wide and lips parted.

“If you apologize , I’m going to throw this at your face.” i said calmly, fingers closing over the neck of the ceramic vase on the table.

Jungkook blinked.

“I’m sorry. “ He said nonetheless and I sighed, pulling my hands away.

How fitting. Neither of us could act out of character.

Jungkook couldn’t stop blaming himself for everything under the sun.

I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt him in any way.

“Just go to bed , Jungkook. I’ll be fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : As always the pain is here and probably going to get worse. But Jungkook seems to be turning mildly human so let’s see if he can keep that up. Also handsome pediatric doctor Yoongi as second lead because i like to torture myself.

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the-lonelybarricade · 3 years

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I totally stole this from one of those writing prompt blogs, but can you do Rhys and Feyre going to couples therapy together as a joke when they only just met?

Okay my love, I literally just finished writing this and haven't actually proofread it. It was meant to be silly and jokey but ended up being a bit more serious than I intended, but I'm a sucker for fake dating tropes so maybe I'll continue their story at some point. Anyway here's a modern Feyre and Rhys going to couples thereapy together (whilst not actually being a couple):

Feyre was absolutely determined to prove Nesta wrong. Usually her sister’s grating comments didn’t penetrate Feyre’s hardened demeanor at home, but something about their stint yesterday had thoroughly gotten under her skin. Nesta had a talent when it came to barbed words, so it was the casualness with which she’d said Feyre was boring and predictable that had kept the words ringing between Feyre’s ears. They lacked the usual bite and venom that was characteristic of Nesta, and somehow that made them impossibly worse.

Was Feyre a creature of habit? Sure. But she had always been content with her quiet, unassuming life. They’d grown up poor, with little luxury, and as a little girl Feyre had always believed all she’d need to be happy was paint supplies and enough time to get lost in a blank canvas. Feyre had that now, and she was happy. She spent almost every day in her studio, a paintbrush in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. And that was fine. She may not spend a lot of time with other people, but that was fine.

Routine is fine. Being focused on your career is fine. So why did the implication that her life is stagnant rile her up so much?

Feyre couldn’t articulate what, exactly, had bothered her so much, since she was perfectly happy with the current state of her life. Yet the next morning she’d woken up, vowing to take a day off and spend the whole day being entirely unpredictable.

She was going to pull a Jim Carrey in Yes Man. She was going to seize this damn day. And any voice in her mind that pleaded her to stick to her comfort zone was going to be diligently ignored.

When she set out to get her morning coffee, she ducked into the first cafe she came across without checking the reviews. And instead of ordering her usual chai latte, she asked the cashier to make her their favorite drink. She sat at a booth and sipped it experimentally. It was sweet and tasted of caramel; she decided she quite liked it. So far so good.

She sat wondering what brave venture she should do next, something that would be worthy of telling people about. Something so brash and crazy and unexpected Nesta would eat her stupid, truthful words.

“Mind if I take this seat?”

The voice was like smooth velvet. Feyre glanced up to meet a pair of eyes that were such a deep, peculiar shade of blue they almost looked violet. She was momentarily stunned speechless, which caused the impossibly handsome stranger to lift one of his perfectly groomed brows in question.

“Of course,” Feyre answered, her mouth feeling a bit dry. She quickly took a sip of her coffee to quell this strong reaction her body was having to this man.

She’d been expecting him to take the chair to sit elsewhere, but he slid into the chair at her table, directly across from her. Feyre spared a cursory glance around the cafe. Customers milled about, but there were plenty of empty seats strewn here and there. It was far from necessary to share a table with a stranger.

Her interest piqued, Feyre turned her attention back to this strange, alluring man.

“I’m Feyre,” she said, sounding much more confident than she felt. But today was about branching out of her comfort zone. Making the first move with an attractive man certainly qualified.

“Rhysand,” he answered with a charming grin, extending his hand into the space between them. Feyre accepted it with a mirrored smile, for a moment marvelling at the way his hand completely enveloped hers.

Feyre cleared her throat. “So tell me, Rhysand, what brings you to this table in particular?”

The way he wrinkled his nose was unfairly endearing. “Call me Rhys,” he said. “I only really use Rhysand in a business setting. And I chose this table in particular, because I saw a beautiful woman sitting here and was feeling especially forward.”

Feyre laughed in surprise. “Forward, indeed. Well, Rhys, I have spectacular news for you.”

“And what’s that, Feyre darling?” the suggestive tone to his voice sent shivers down her spine and instantly those warning bells in her mind were blaring. This man was too handsome and he was a complete stranger.

“I’ve decided to do something completely stupid and spontaneous today, and you’re officially invited to join me.”

Rhysand grinned, his eyes flickering with mischief at her proposal. She supposed that should be concerning, too, but she felt her pulse quicken. “And what stupid, spontaenous thing will we be doing, darling?”

Feyre leaned back, trying to regain composure by taking a too casual sip of her coffee. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m open to ideas.”

Across the cafe, a man stood up so quickly his chair tipped over with a loud thunk. Rhys and Feyre both whirled their heads at the commotion.

“This is why we need to go to therapy together!” the woman across from him screeched. “You can’t control your stupid temper!”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he growled. “I’m not going to sit there for an hour so you can manipulate some dumb bitch into agreeing with you!”

“It’s not about sides,” she groaned. “I want to work through this with you!”

Feyre felt a tug of sympathy at the desperation in the woman’s voice. She could feel her pain and frustration second-hand, having been in similar shoes herself.

“Fuck this,” the man grumbled, storming for the door.

The woman followed after him. “Our appointment is in 10 minutes! Please, let’s just try it.”

The door swung shut behind them. Feyre watched the couple continue their walking argument down the city pavement, gesturing wildly with their hands.

Feyre sighed. “Man, that poor woman. It sounded like she really wanted to work things out.”

“That guy sounded like an absolute ass, maybe it’s for the best,” Rhys said. Then, his eyes lit up and he turned to Feyre with a slow, conspiring grin. “It does give me an idea, though.”

“What’s that?” Feyre felt a bit intimidated by the roguish expression on his face, even if it did make her feel breathless.

“Well, I do happen to know there’s a psychiatrist's office right above this cafe. If I had to guess, that’s where our friends were going to have their first session. And from the looks of it,” he nodded towards the couple, who were now striding in opposite directions through the city, faces flushed with anger, “they won’t be attending.”

“And your point is…?”

“Let’s go in their stead. Make a game of it. First person to break character loses.”

“And what does the winner get?”

“Well, if I win, then I get to take you to dinner.”

Feyre considered for a moment. Dinner with a handsome man certainly didn’t sound like losing to her. “If I win, then I get to use you as a model.”

“You’re a photographer?” His brows rose in interest and Feyre summoned all her will power not to blush. Since when was she bashful about her career?

“Painter.”

Rhysand grinned. “If you win, you can use my body anyway you wish, Feyre darling. Nude would be best.”

And that was how Feyre had ended up in Dr. Suriel’s office, Rhys by her side on the sofa. It was perhaps the most adventurous thing she’d ever agreed to.

“So, Mr and Mrs Mandray. Apologies, I didn’t get your names on the forms.”

“I’m Feyre, this is my husband Rhys,” Feyre answered, thinking it lucky they didn’t have to guess at the mysterious couple’s forenames.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Feyre and Rhys. What brings you to my office today?”

Rhys immediately slipped into his role of the concerned husband. He placed his arm around Feyre’s shoulders and tugged her close. Rhys opened his mouth, then shut it, glancing at Feyre hesitantly.

“My wife and I have been getting into a lot of… disagreement lately,” Rhys answered carefully, and already Feyre thought this was going much better than it would have if the actual Mr Mandray had turned up.

“My husband,” Feyre said flatly, channeling her inner Nesta to put venom into the word. “Is insisting on painting our house purple.”

“I see,” Dr. Suriel says, assessing the displeasure on Feyre’s face. “And I’m assuming you want to paint the house a different color.”

Feyre pressed her lips into a thin line. “See, that’s just the problem,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s exactly the color I would want to paint our house.”

Dr. Suriel frowned. “So you do want the house to be painted purple, as does your husband. Am I understanding that correctly?”

“No,” Feyre sighed. “He wants to paint the house blue, but is insisting we paint it purple, because he knows it’s what I want. This bastard refuses to be anything but accommodating.”

“We’re going to try to refrain from name-calling in my office,” Dr Suriel said calmly. “So, Feyre, you are clearly unhappy that Rhys wants to paint the house purple. What color would you paint it?”

“Blue,” she answered. “I know it’s what he secretly wants to paint it.”

“She doesn’t see the hypocrisy in what she's saying!” Rhys complained. Then, he turned to Feyre, looking impossibly serious. “Darling, I know you want to paint the house purple, and I already told you I’m fine with it.”

Feyre groaned. “I don’t want to paint the house purple! I want to paint it blue.”

“You’re only saying that because you think I want to paint the house blue.”

“Do you?”

Rhys hesitated. “No.”

“Don’t lie in front of our therapist,” Feyre said with narrowed eyes. “We promised to tell the truth while we’re here.”

“Then you tell me the truth, Feyre. Do you genuinely want the house to be painted blue?”

Now it was Feyre’s turn to hesitate. She could see the corner of Rhysand’s mouth twitch as she did so. “No. I mean yes! I do!”

“It sounds like at the heart of this argument, you are both ultimately concerned in pleasing the other person, is that fair to say?”

Feyre and Rhys glanced at each other, then nodded in agreement.

“Do you think there’s a color you could both compromise on, so that you don’t feel as if your partner is the only one making a sacrifice in this decision?”

Feyre met Rhysand’s brilliant violet eyes. In truth, she’d blurted the color purple because she’d been thinking about the color of his eyes. She'd never seen eyes that color, and they were wonderfully vivid. Feyre was lost thinking of painting a world in a monocrhome of violet, like a city that lived within his gaze.

Feyre realized she’d been momentarily swept away, snapped out of it by the humor that washed behind those starry irises. She blinked back the haze and tried to think of an answer to the question.

“Mustard yellow?” she proposed.

Rhys pursed his lips in mock consideration. “Mustard yellow,” he agreed with an emphatic nod of approval.

Dr. Suriel blinked in surprise. “All right, well I’m pleased we could solve that issue. Is there anything else you’ve been arguing about?”

“Yeah, actually. My wife,” Rhys gave Feyre a pointed glance. Somehow, despite being strangers, hearing Rhys refer to her as his wife sent waves of pleasure jolting through her. She felt her stomach flip on itself. “Isn’t satisfied with our sex life.”

Feyre instantly flushed at such an accusation, however fabricated.

“Is this true, Feyre?” Dr. Suriel turned her eyes towards Feyre and she shifted uncomfortably at having to make up stories about her sex life with Rhys. Making Feyre imagine rolling in a bed with him was certainly his goal, and she’d lie to say it wasn’t affecting her. Rhysand looked absolutely delighted to have made her squirm. Fine. Two could play at his game.

“Y-yes, well,” Feyre stuttered, the burning in her cheeks condemning. “I keep telling Rhys that 16 orgasms in a session is excessive. He’s much too generous a lover and he never lets me give as good as I get.”

Feyre felt satisfied with the way Rhysand’s face went crimson.

Dr. Suriel’s brows rose. “This seems to be a common theme in your marriage. Rhysand, would you say that you’re often prioritising Feyre’s desires over your own?”

“I think Feyre sorely underestimates how much pleasure I take from satisfying her desires,” he answered, his eyes flicking to Feyre with enough of a sensual promise that her heartbeat turned staccato.

“Rhys, it sounds as though your generosity is part of the way you express your love, is that safe to say?” Rhys nodded. “And Feyre, it seems as if you have trouble accepting your husband's generosity, both in and outside the bedroom. Do you feel that’s a fair statement?”

“I-I suppose so.”

“Sometimes people have trouble accepting their loved one’s generosity when they feel like they aren’t giving something in exchange. It can be hard to accept that kind of love when we don’t feel like we deserve it. Do you feel like this could apply to your situation?”

Feyre blinked. This was meant to be a gag, something daring and experimental. She hadn’t expected to be psychoanalyzed by Dr. Suriel, or at least for her analysis to hit so close to home.

Rhysand shifted forward on the sofa. “Is this true, darling?” he asked, sounding concerned. He took Feyre’s hands in his own, brushing his thumb along her skin as he met her gaze. “I think you deserve the world.”

She would almost think he was being genuine if she hadn’t met him only an hour ago. Feyre marked the conviction on his face, those burning pools of earnesty in his eyes, and marveled at what an incredible actor he was.

Somehow she ended up blurting part of the truth. “My family life growing up was kind of tough and I’ve never really known what unconditional love was like. I think a part of me still believes it's something I have to earn.”

“That sounds like it must have been very hard, Feyre. But it sounds like Rhys loves you very much, and that this is an issue the two of you can overcome together. When you feel the instinct to reject his generosity, try to remember where that message is coming from. And Rhysand, try to keep in mind that this is something your wife is still working through, and be patient if she feels more comfortable giving you something in exchange. This is her way of expressing love, too. At the core of your issues is both of you thinking about the other person, try to remember this when a breakdown in communication occurs.”

Somehow they’d lost control of their therapy session and were receiving actual therapy, which wasn’t part of the plan at all. But somehow, despite not actually being married to Rhysand, what Dr. Suriel said was reassuring.

Feyre turned to Rhys and smiled. “I think I understand better, now. You’re free to give me as many orgasms as you want, honey.”

Rhys grinned fiendishly. “And I’ll let you reciprocate in whatever way you feel comfortable, darling.”

Dr. Suriel clasped her hands together in approval. “Excellent. I think so long as the two of you take measures to accurately communicate your needs, you’ll find these breakdowns will occur less frequently. And that’s it for our time today, but I am happy to have the two of you back any time.”

Feyre walked out of the session hand-in-hand with Rhys, feeling a bit dazed. It had certainly gotten more serious than she’d expected, but perhaps her judgement had been misplaced in thinking therapy could be anything other than serious, no matter how joking the complaints.

“Well, that was certainly stimulating,” Rhys quipped once they’d left the office.

“And it seems we’re at a draw, considering neither of us broke character.”

“You do play my wife convincingly well,” Rhys practically purred, “perhaps I’ll let you take up the real role, if you feel so inclined.”

Feyre laughed. “I’m expecting a few other offers to come through. Give me a few days to look over the applicants, then I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay, well how’s this. I’ll give you my number, you can wait until all those applicants come back to you, and once you’ve decided that I’m clearly the obvious choice, you can call me.”

Feyre smiled as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him to insert his number. “You do make a very convincing husband. Perhaps I can hire you for weddings and Thanksgiving dinners?”

“Real husband, fake husband, a partner to do spontaneous, outrageous things with. You call me, and I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Feyre.”

It was perhaps the strangest and most generous offer she’d ever been given. When they parted ways, Feyre thought that she’d certainly filled her quota for an interesting story to tell. And maybe, most likely, she’d be calling that number very soon.

#Feysand #prompt fill #pro Rhys #pro Feyre #fake dating kind of #Feysand fic #acotar #acotar fic #ask #not proofread sorry #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 65: Question

"Uncle Harry?"

He glanced away from Rose where she was eating the grapes Harry cut in quarters and over at Teddy where he was sitting at the table eating his grilled cheese. "Yeah buddy?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he said as he looked back at the almost 16 month old eating grapes. He still got nervous about her choking.

"Do you like Uncle Draco?"

"Yeah," Harry replied casually, glancing out of the corner of his eye to gauge Teddy's reaction. "Yeah. Uncle Draco and I are good friends."

Teddy rolled his eyes, and Harry couldn't help but wonder how the time had flown by fast enough that he was sitting at a table with a nine year old who now rolled his eye at him. "I mean do you like-like Uncle Draco?"

"Gah bah dih!" Rose shouted, banging her chubby little fists on her high chair tray.

"See, Rose wants to know too," he translated for the baby.

He sighed, "It's complicated, Teddy."

"Why?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "Uncle Draco says he likes you. Why does it have to be complicated?"

"Uncle Draco said what?" Harry asked, sure he'd misheard.

(Read more below the cut)

"He said that he likes you but he thinks that you don't feel the same."

"Thats-" Harry spluttered, "I-" he started and broke off again, "But he nev-" he huffed, catching a spoon that Rose was trying to hit Max with. "Careful, Rose," he chided gently, "We don't hit the dog."

"Uncle Haarry," Teddy groaned.

"Apparently it's a conversation that Uncle Draco and I need to have," he managed.

"But-"

Harry shook his head, "No buts. If I like Uncle Draco, he should be the first to hear it, don't you think?"

"Fine," Teddy grumbled.

And Harry spent the rest of the day thinking about what he was going to say to Draco at trivia later that night.

-------

"I hate the muggle knowledge category," Draco groaned miserably as he and Harry prepared to answer the eighth round of questions that evening. "You're completely useless at it," he added, "even though you were raised by muggles."

Harry huffed, "Well, it's not like I was allowed to live like a normal muggle." He took another sip of his firewhiskey. He should stop drinking but he was just too nervous.

"What does that even mean?" Draco asked.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head to clear away the memories which somehow served to only bring them further forward in his mind.

"Potter," Draco said, poking his arm, "What does that mean?"

He stood up abruptly, feeling small and afraid, like he'd never be good enough. All of the feelings of loneliness and unworthiness that he'd had as a child rising up like bile. It was all too much all of the sudden and the idea that Draco might actually be interested in him was utterly preposterous. "I have to go."

"What?" Draco said as Harry made for the door. "Harry!" he called.

Harry fumbled with the door handle but finally made it out onto the street, pushing his way through a gaggle of people standing outside the door smoking.

He'd walked for maybe two minutes when he heard a set of feet running up behind him and he turned, body poised to fight.

"Hey," Draco panted. "You didn't pay for your tab, you know."

"Right," Harry said, reaching into his pocket and holding out a handful of galleons to Draco.

"I don't want your money," he said, sounding offended and Harry didn't know what to do with that. "I'm just telling you why it took me so long to catch up."

"Do you like me?" Harry blurted because he needed to know, once and for all.

Draco looked confused, "Harry, we've been friends for like 7 years, of course I like you."

"No," he shook his head, "I mean do you like-like me?"

The other man paled, taking a step back from him and Harry realized that he must be thinking that Harry had run out because he thought Draco liked him.

"Because I really like you," he hastened to add. "I have for ages but I didn't think you could feel the same. How could you feel the same?" Harry whispered, more to himself than Draco. "I'm a mess," he added, "I've got ptsd from the war but I'm also like super messed up from my childhood? And I don't even understand what healthy relationships look like and how to have them," he covered his face with his hands, "I'm just-"

"Harry," Draco interrupted, his hands gently holding Harry's shoulders. "Come here," he murmured, pulling Harry in against him and wrapping him up in his arms.

Harry leaned into him.

"Okay," Draco murmured, "Deep, slow breath with me, yes?"

He nodded and mirrored Draco's breathing, feeling his heart slow as his lungs filled with air.

"There we are," Draco said softly, brushing his hands over Harry's back. "It's alright."

"Sorry," he whispered, making no move to pull away from Draco.

Draco dropped a kiss on his cheek, "There's no need to be." After a beat he asked, "Would you like to come back to mine to talk? I've got some sobriety potions and I can make us some tea."

"Do you have biscuits?" Harry murmured against his skin where he'd tucked his face in Draco's neck.

"I do."

He nodded once and Draco held onto him as he apparated. After they took their sobriety potions and made tea, Draco nodded to the living room.

Harry curled up on one end of the couch and Draco sat on the other, cross-legged and facing Harry. "So," Draco said, and Harry really dreaded the next words now that he wasn't drunk, "Who ratted me out? Was it Weasley?"

"What?"

"Who told you that I like you?"

Harry blinked, "Teddy. But how-"

"I've liked you for six and a half years and people have been telling me that you like me for at least five of them. Clearly someone must have decided to tell you, it's the only thing that could have prompted you to change."

He tilted his head consideringly, "What I said, though," he started, "Well, it's still true, even if I'm less emotional about it now. I have had several relationships flop through no fault of the men and women I've dated. I'm a mess, Draco."

"Do you imagine for even a moment that I'm not?"

Harry huffed a bitter laugh, "You're always so poised and put together. You-"

"I have nightmares three times a week," Draco said matter-of-factly. "I sleep with my wand tucked under my pillow and a dim light in the corner. I see a therapist every other week. My father and I have a very strained relationship because he doesn't approve of me being gay. And," he added, "I haven't had a successful relationship ever."

Harry stared at him for a long moment.

Long enough that Draco started talking again, "I'm a lot. Even on my best days and I would drive you roun-"

Harry interrupted him by leaning across the sofa and kissing him once softly to stop the words coming from his mouth. "You are amazing," he breathed. When he pulled back he said, "If you're okay with me not being perfect, I would love to try."

"Really?" Draco whispered.

Harry nodded, "Really."

And in the end, it was their imperfections that made the other love them all the more.

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

Day 64: Shower | Day 66: Bond

So confession: this was not the fic I started writing for this prompt. But that one is already over 4000 words and it's like halfway done, so it's not making the cut tonight. I think it's actually going to end up being multiple chapters, I'll add a link in here when I've finished it. (I say this to apologize that this one is so rushed!)

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry #drarry ficlet #drarry drabbles #getting together #matchmaker teddy #day 65 #enjoy #send me a prompt and i'll write you a ficlet

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angelkurenai · 3 years

Text

Imagine Pedro being teased and questioned about how close he is with you, Gal’s adopted sister, and trying his best to hide the fact that you are actually dating.

“So, Gal, I am going to direct this question mostly at you but of course anyone can get to answer. I actually wanted to know your opinion about it.” Conan said, as Gal herself nodded her head with a smile.

“Oh, please, with pleasure.”

“There have been several photos, and I do not mean just from paps or professionals. Even you on your personal instagram posted a few. Which, to say the least, broke the internet as we all saw.”

“Yeah uh truth is my instagram wasn't working for several hours afterwards and I thought it was just me but then I kept asking others and got the same reply from everyone! Turns out, we caused a blackout of sorts.” Gal laughed, admitting to it before looking away in embarrassment while the rest of the cast nodded their heads as if almost giving her a a playful glare, even through the screen of the computer.

“And the reason behind that, who would have thought, a couple photos!” Jimmy nodded his head “Your sister, your adopted sister (Y/n), came to visit you on the set of Wonder Woman 1984. It was, for lack of better words, a historic moment not just for instagram who crashed because of the popularity of the photos but also for comic book fans worldwide. It was the closest we could get to a Marvel and DC crossover.”

“You say that because she was in her costume in some of them yeah?” Gal asked with a bright smile, always loving to talk about her little sister as Conan nodded his head “Yes, it was (Y/n)'s idea and everyone knows it, I can never say no to my little sister. Plus, she was right; we had so much fun fooling around in our costumes! I had more fun than I've ever had on a set of a movie before. And, yes, I almost always enjoy the movies I'm in, but this one- this one was truly something else! We- almost everyone, I think, played along as we acted as our characters and filmed some scenes just for laughs. I really really hope they make it into the bloopers somehow.”

“So you're planning on taking down youtube next, I see. I see.” the host nodded his head with playfully narrowed eyes, seeming all suspicious and making everyone laugh.

“No, no I swear! I don't want to!” she said in between laughter “We all had so much fun and an amazing time on set and in front of the cameras, playing superheroes that it would be incredible for the fans to see! It's- Really, it is kind of an unofficial crossover that should make it to the internet at least!”

“I'll have to-” Patty spoke up “I'll have to give it to Gal, she is right. (Y/n) had this amazing idea and creative at the same time because she had a small plot in her mind and lines and everything concerning the set. We all did a small setup and filmed it and, honestly, it came out to be real good!”

“Patty is no even exaggerating and Gal is certainly right. We had so much fun filming that small crossover, and (Y/n)'s ideas were brilliant! Fans will definitely love it!” Kristen said in addition.

“She truly is an incredibly talented, smart and creative person, besides an absolute darling. So kind to everyone and sweet, we all couldn't get enough of her. And-” Patty raised a finger “I will say it here once more because Gal has heard it before: the fastest we've filmed a scene in this movie. And it was all thanks to how professional she was, it was truly incredible!”

“Well, I can't ever deny it, my little sister is the biggest star there is! Oscars or other awards aside, she proves how great she is on every set on her own!”

“And you are definitely her biggest fan, as we all can clearly tell.” Conan pointed out with a small laugh “Speaking of, I think we do have someone who could only be described as your main rival on that sweet stop of being your sister's number one fan. Someone who hasn't been shy about expressing his admiration about (Y/n) but who has yet to utter a word.” Conan looked back up from his papers and said someone almost felt his heart jump in fear and nervousness, hoping that at least nobody noticed that he was indeed being silent for a reason “Pedro, you're being uncharacteristically quiet about this one, especially for something that caused Instagram to crash within thirty minutes of the photos being uploaded. I'm not- I'm not used to this from you. Come on, talk to me. Say what's on your mind.”

“This is oddly- I'm getting strange deja vu vibes here. Must be cause of that one time I visited a therapist. Long story short, it was only one session for me and about hm at least 25 for him. I heard he's still going to a therapist now.” he shrugged casually, earning laughter from everyone. He chuckled slightly himself, glancing over the screen of his computer while trying his best to keep anything from showing on his face even more so his smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I mean-” he cleared his throat “Ah man, what else can I say? The ladies have spoken, and they've said exactly what- I believe anyone that gets the opportunity to work with (Y/n) or watch her movies would agree she is one of a kind.” he shrugged softly with an adorable smile “Besides, it feels like anything I say is just going to be used against me, so I- I better keep on silently observing. That does seem like it's the safest option here.”

Pedro's laugh was more of a nervous if not awkward one, but he was pretty confident it was just no different to how he would usually laugh away questions he didn't want to answer in interviews. Most celebrities did the same, he wouldn't be the first nor the last, so he didn't expect Conan to insist any further. He didn't want to push his luck, he had been really successful (if not blessed after all these close calls) with all these online interviews to not have everything revealed by accident, so now especially with the current topic, he didn't feel like messing things up. He loved this privacy, he didn't want to lose it not yet, he wanted you and this all to himself for now. And he wanted the story of how you met, of how over that one month and a half on set he felt himself fall in love with you.

And yet... Yet, he was probably a weak man, a man who couldn't help but indulge even if he knew it could probably get him in trouble. You were worth it, though, you were worth all of it and as you were his weakest spot and so indulge he did. He slowly chewed on his lower lip and he so subtly looked over the screen of his computer.

His eyes fell on you, still splayed on his bed, book in one hand and steaming mug on the nightstand – your nightstand on your side of the bed, the thought of which made his heart flutter inside his chest – hair slightly messy, that oversized Mandalorian shirt on, which you'd gotten all excited amongst many many more fandom related toys a couple months ago and couldn't wait for him to see. A shirt which had, inevitably, ended up being taken off you barely ten minutes later starting from him stealing kisses and leading to the two of you making love till the very morning in between endless giggles. The pup you'd gotten – the both of you – not so long ago made a small noise drawing your attention for a short moment as you kept petting him, the both of you too tired to do anything else after an exhausting day of playing. Pedro couldn't complain, although he'd been a part of it he had mostly spent time filming everything even if you hadn't been the one to ask him to, he couldn't help it.

It was something that the both of you decided on and although you hadn't said it out loud, you both knew and at least Pedro hoped, that it was the next step, a very important one, in your relationship besides you moving in with him. To be responsible for another living being together was, if not a test, at least a way to see how well you could cooperate. And, if he could say so himself, you had been doing great so far.

“Good morning, darling. Here for morning kisses? Yes? Come up here.” your giggles were able to warm him more than the sunlight coming through the window “Ooooh someone really loves mommy, don't you?”

And then your words set his entire being alight. Or more specifically that one particular word.

“Well-” he stretched a bit, his arms finding your waist again to bring you closer and cuddle with you “Who doesn't love mommy in this house?” he couldn't help it as his smile turned into a lovestruck grin “Morning, mi amor.”

“Good morning, darling.” you pecked his lips “And don't worry, mommy loves daddy back, enough to make up for the rest of the world.”

As if reading his mind, you chose to look up from your book at him, smiling as you held his gaze for a good few seconds. So much love was evident, even in those few seconds, he could almost feel his own heart burst. Yet another reason for him to control his reactions from showing just how much on high on happiness and love he was. You shook your head, eyes wide as you heard Conan speak again, you playfully mouthed to him “Focus!”

As subtly as possible he tried to clear his throat and taking the mug of coffee that was beside his computer, he took a sip and decided to focus on it as much as he could. Until the subject changed, at least.

“...Wise man. I feel you, so don't worry I'll leave you to it.” if only he knew the big sigh of relief Pedro tried to hold back as Conan continued “It's the tactic I follow 99% of the time when I'm out with my wife, just smile and wave kind of thing. Alright-” he nodded his head in thought “Alright, well, let me ask you all something else. You keep saying in front of the cameras and talking about this small crossover, but I assume she must have been around for longer than that, yes?”

“Yes, yes she was there for at least a month, a month and a half I think. She was on vacation, after being done with filming, and she decided that before heading home that she'd come by and visit us. It was meant to be for a short period of time. She loved the place... the people, perhaps, how could I know for sure?” she shrugged not looking innocent in the least bit, earning a few laughs.

“Anyway-” she cleared her throat “And you see before she knew it, before we all did, one week turned into two turned into three and so on. It-” she chuckled “She was around on set and with us on all those beautiful locations we were in. And while we were all working and walking around with purpose and the need to finish this scene with so much pressure on- on our shoulders and she was just sitting around with a iced coffee or tea on her hand, sunglasses on and phone on the other hand looking she didn't have a single care in the world. It kind of made everyone a little bit jealous to be honest.”

“A little? Cause I sense that there's more than you're letting on, Gal. Come on, spill the tea.”

“Alright more than a little.” she laugh “I mean, it wasn't all the time, of course. Just the first couple days mostly but you can imagine how it was. It seemed like she did it on purpose sometimes.”

“Twistin' the knife even deeper, that's what she's best at. Oh I know!” Conan nodded his head “I'm actually afraid to invite her on the show because I fear how bad she'll roast me. Andy-” he laughed “Andy is the only one who has the most fun during those interviews.”

“I know right? Boy you tell me!” Gal exclaimed “That little shit. I adore her to no end but I really had the hardest of time when she was around. She just had to make comments on everything she could, especially when I was acting. I couldn't stop laughing sometimes, but nobody got mad at her. It was always my fault somehow!”

“I mean she's just so sweet, how could we be mad at her?” Patty added.

“She messed up so many of my scenes!” Gal pretended to be angry but her smile gave it away “But it's true, I couldn't even be mad at her. I don't get to see her that often, because of the work we both do, so I would give anything to have my sister with me like that every other chance I got. Even if I got all the blame for it, there's nothing I wouldn't do for her, you understand.”

“Aw that's- that's incredibly sweet, actually. It's- that's the exact opposite of me and my brother so no I can't really understand to be honest, but alright.” Conan laughed “Well, then, you really got your chance this time, right? You had the opportunity to spend all this time with her. When you were not working of course.”

“I...” Gal trailed off, her smile turning into a mischievous one but the rest of her expression trying to remain innocent, and failing at it because she truly wasn't even trying “Well, I would say yes. And I would agree with you. And I would even ramble about the wonderful two months I spent with my sister... If that had been the case. If I had really seen her for more than a week total, then yeah I would say that.”

“Wha- P-Pardon me?” Conan blinked in surprise “Didn't you j-just say your sister was with you on set for about two months? Or have I been in a parallel universe all this time and I just now came back to our reality?”

“Oh no it's very much our reality but I also did mean what I said. My sister was on set, and I did see her quiet often. But did I spend almost all of my free time with her? Did she spend hers with me? Nope. And that-” again with a far-from-innocent shrug “That is probably the only question I can answer. What she did? Did she have fun?... Who she was with? I wish I knew. What I know is I wasn't the one closest to her on set.”

“So you're telling me, (Y/n) was on set full of people she didn't really know, and you, her sister, barely spent any time with her? I'm gonna assume the rest of you didn't spend more time with her compared to Gal, right?” he asked and got nods from everyone, well, everyone who had their eyes on their screen and therefore looking at Conan, because there was still one that would avoid eye-contact even through the screen “Well, then, who was closest to her on set, if not you?”

“She, well-” Gal paused, smile all too sweet as she added “There could be someone...”

Said someone who couldn't even look up from his mug of coffee, as if it was the most interesting thing in the entire world, and didn't dare say a word for fearing of messing things up; even if his silence spoke volumes as it was. A silence which was... even more intense than before. Even more... real. Probably because it wasn't just in his head, probably because it wasn't just from his part.

Blinking several times, he slowly raised his head to look up from his mug and at the screen of his computer. Only to be met with the eyes of the rest of the group staring at... well, they were staring at the screen of their own computers but for some reason – a reason which he knew all too well – he felt like all eyes were suddenly on him. And they probably were. Because Gal was being nice about it but almost everyone had noticed how much time you had spent with Pedro during those almost two months. You had just met back then so they didn't imply anything back then but now... now they could just as well do so.

“I-” he laughed and he hated how nervous he sounded “Is it time to talk about my character?” he asked almost shyly, nearly praying on the inside that they would say yes and let him change the subject “Well, Max Lord is a guy who-”

“Are you trying to change the subject there, Pedro? One can wonder why.” Conan narrowed his eyes “Come on, don't be shy. Share your opinion here, or maybe your personal experience. Since I am assuming you do have one?”

“Yes, Pedro, why don't you share your opinion with us?” Gal raised an eyebrow, small smirk on her lips “You've been particularly interested in that drink the past couple minutes apparently.”

“I-” Pedro paused, before shaking his head with a laugh “This is going to be a long interview. I can tell.”

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seokjinsonlyone · 3 years

Text

Not My Type | 3

pairing: jungkook x female reader

summary: "She's a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful."

genre: friends to lovers

warnings: none; jimin here tho being flirty and stirring the pot <3333

rating: pg

wc: 1.7k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Jungkook’s newfound hobby was driving her crazy. One too many times had their little lunch rendezvous made its way into her mind in the past week. The way he sniffed her hair oddly enough was a recurring playback. She had a thing for weirdos and Jungkook could definitely be classified as that. And, that was exactly why she needed to shut this whole thing down.

Now, she considered herself a progressive individual. She didn’t mind change as long as it was for the better. She didn’t have a problem evolving her relationship with a friend. In fact, she preferred it. Always said that if she was gonna get into it, she wanted to be with a friend. But, this particular friendship wasn’t the one. It wouldn’t make sense. There was no way it could possibly be better.

They were like oil and water. They didn’t mix. Which was fine as a friendship, they could peacefully coexist. Anything more than that, however, would be an unnecessary burden. And, her life didn’t need to be anymore difficult than it already was. She wanted an easy love. It was this line of reasoning that carried her straight to her best friend’s house.

“You need to talk to your friend,” she announced, waltzing into Jimin’s home, throwing her purse on the couch before finding him sitting at the island eating cereal.

He looked up. “I’ve already told you should just ask Taemin out. He’ll most likely say yes. He thinks you’re hot. Stop trying to get me to create scenarios.”

“And, I’ve already told you I refuse to pursue a man. No matter how dreamy and evil he is,” she sighed.

In all honesty, she probably would’ve gone for it if it weren’t for the fact that she could tell he wasn’t really into her. Not in the way she would’ve liked for him to be into her. He flirted with her in person (and in her dms), held her in a way that made her stomach jump after a few drinks, but ultimately his goal was a few nights in the sheets. And, that just wasn’t her thing. She didn’t do casual. Didn’t like to invite people into her life that weren’t going to stay. So even though she thought they could be good together, she was deciding to let this one go. If he couldn’t see what was right in front of him that was on him.

“You’re gonna end up alone.”

“You must realize that I am my favorite person.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about Jungkook.”

“What he do?”

“He’s been acting weird ever since last week.”

“What happened last week?”

She sucked her teeth. “You know, when we were all here?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, pupils shifting from side to side, visibly racking his brain trying to recall what happened at his place last week. “Oh! Wednesday! I was so drunk, bro. What happened?”

“Ugh. You don’t remember asking me to rank all of y’all from most to least my type?” Typical Jimin. Cause trouble then dip.

“What’d you rank me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I ain’t doing this again.”

He dropped his legs from the footrest of the barstool, tugging her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Mmm. You couldn’t handle me either way.”

She’s not gonna lie, her heart skipped a beat. But, that’s the only reason he did it in the first place. He knew it flustered her on some level. So, she decided to play along for once, bringing her hand up to toy with the hair that rested at the back of his neck. “Baby boy, I could make you cry,” she whispered seductively.

He made a face, then pushed her away turning his attention back to his cereal. “You’re gross.”

“You started it,” she accused, laughter bubbling up at his reaction. He was CEO of “Do as I say, not as I do.” Always in the mood to dish it out, but hardly able to take it in return.

“So, what’s going on? Why do I need to talk to him?”

“Because I told him he wasn’t my type, and now he’s trying to convince me that he is.”

He choked. “What?”

“He literally showed up at my work the other day and brought me lunch.”

“That was more so directed at you saying Jungkook isn’t your type.”

“He’s not.” He raised his eyebrows, smirking conspiratorially. “He isn’t,” she insisted.

“So, you didn’t used to drool over him when you two first met?”

“See why you gotta go and bring up the past.” She wouldn’t say that she had a full blown crush on him, she didn’t know him and therefore couldn’t actually like him, but for a minute she was down bad. She wasn’t expecting to meet him when she did. Jimin had wanted to hang out and asked for a ride. He was with Jungkook when she picked him up and she was effectively caught off guard. Before she even realized what she was doing, she was out of the car and shaking hands with him in greeting. The next few weeks were spent trying her hardest to be in his presence. She never said more than two words to the boy, but yeah she was down bad. Once her hormones subsided, though, they eventually developed a friendship. A friendship that needed to stay a friendship. “Besides, I never said he wasn’t hot. I’m saying our personalities don’t match up. It wouldn’t work.”

“You aren’t that different from each other.”

“Yeah, but we’re wrong in just the right ways. It wouldn’t work.” He was right in saying that weren’t all that dissimilar, but it was because of that that she was sure starting any kind of relationship with romantic intent would go up in flames. The two were like parallel lines. Never meant to cross. Adjacent, but never intersecting. As they should.

“It sounds to me like you’re just afraid of what could happen.”

“Hold on there partner. I didn’t come here to be lectured or psychoanalyzed. I don’t even think he likes me for real, but he’s heading down a slippery slope. I just want you to talk to him before he goes and starts something that’s gonna get his feelings hurt, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see what I can do.” One thing about Jimin was that he was nosy. Had absolutely zero qualms about getting all up in other people’s business. Knowledge equals power is what he always told himself. So, if she hadn’t come to him voluntarily offering up this information, he would’ve picked up on it sooner or later, inserting himself in the middle of it all. As it stands, he’s been giving explicit permission to do some digging. All he has to do is wait for the opportunity to arise.

The opportunity came a few days later. Jungkook was sitting on his couch, phone in hand, completely zoned out when Jimin pounced.

“So... Y/N?”

Jungkook startled at the mention of her name. It wasn’t like he was just thinking about her. He definitely wasn’t about to text her. He hadn’t spent the past minutes in a daze typing, deleting, and retyping messages to send. Nope. “Huh?”

“Y/N? What’s going on with you and her?” Jimin asked again.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,” he feigned innocence, voice raising an octave. Even though, for all intents and purposes, there really wasn’t anything going on.

He looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not what she said.”

“What did she say?” She talked about him?

“You tell me.” He smirked sitting down, crossing one leg over the other like some kind of therapist.

“I don’t know. We had lunch,” he mumbled.

“Why?”

“Because I thought she might be hungry.”

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that she said you’re not her type?”

He blew raspberries into the air. He couldn’t lie to Jimin even if he tried. The man always managed to see right through him. A consequence of nearly ten years of friendship. “I’m just trying to get to know her better,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Because she’s nice.” Which wasn’t the complete truth, but if he admitted that he thought she had stars in her eyes he’d never hear the end of it.

“She’s a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that she’s one of the best people I know, but she’s stubborn and once she has an idea in her head it’s very hard for her to let go.”

“So you think I should stop?”

“I think you shouldn’t go into this blind, is all I’m saying. Whatever you’re doing, probably won’t be easy. And, I don’t want you to get hurt. Or hurt her. What do you plan on doing if you manage to make her like you? If you’re not serious then I think you should stop.” Jimin patted his shoulder, then got up leaving him to his thoughts.

Jungkook heard what he was saying. He did. And, he was right. He hadn’t been thinking too hard about what he was doing. Honestly, he was just following the skip in his heartbeat and so far that led him to her. There was a very real possibility of him getting his feelings hurt. She was very strong willed. Couldn’t budge her mind with a bulldozer. So, if she was dead set on being against this, there wasn’t much he could do anyway.

Still, this wasn’t something he could let go of easily. He had no intentions of hurting her. It wasn’t just some conquest for him. That much he was sure of. He would hate to get closer to her, have her catch feelings for him, then dip because he wasn’t feeling it. But, he seriously doubted that would happen. It’s not like they were complete strangers. He was just seeing her in a new light now. And as much as he didn’t want anyone to get hurt, at this point he didn’t know if this was something he should even avoid. It didn’t seem like it.

Truthfully, he didn’t feel this way often. This pull he now felt toward her. He was usually much too caught up in trying to be the best version of himself he could be to entertain thoughts of others. However, right now she had his attention and he didn’t want to look away. He opened his text thread with her typing and finally sending a message before he could overthink it.

[10:53pm] jk: lunch tomorrow?

#bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction

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avengerscompound · 3 years

Text

Small Gods: Lazy Mornings - 1

Lazy Mornings: A Captain America Fanfic

Lazy Mornings Masterlist | More Small Gods

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 2361

Warnings: Mentions of injuries. (smut on series)

Synopsis: Steve Rogers has trouble taking time for himself. When his friends set him up with a person with a very unusual skill, perhaps he can learn that the quiet moments are just as important as everything else.

A/N: Reader is a minor god. Idea expanding on the one in my fic Lazy Sundays though it’s a completely different story (just same minor god x steve).

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THIS LET ME KNOW.

Chapter 1

Steve was on edge. The Avengers had just come to the end of a very long, and very grueling mission. With the lack of sleep, niggling injuries, and stress of battle, that would have been enough to have him anxious and exhausted just by itself, but Tony had insisted that they have a party to unwind while Steve still had government agencies to liaise with, paperwork to fill out, and people to question. So instead of getting his work done so that he could sleep off his injuries and actually unwind, he had to be ‘on’ as the public figurehead of Captain America for a bunch of strangers while he was still running on less than four hours of sleep and had a cracked rib.

As he made his way through the large, open room, Steve became aware of a strange phenomenon. The people around the door were in full party mood. People were dancing, talking animatedly, and playing games of darts. But as Steve moved through the room, the mood got more relaxed. There was less dancing and more just talking and sharing drinks. The level of the music dropped so it was more muted and even though the song never changed it somehow felt like it went from an upbeat dance number to a soothing ballad. The light changed in the room too. Closer to the elevator bright-colored disco lights cutting through the dark. Whereas, by the windows, there was a soft diffused gold light, almost like early morning light coming through a gauze curtain. By the time Steve reached the couches that were set up on a platform against the windows on the far side of the room, everyone was just lazing back on the couches, casually drinking in the soft light.

Thor, Bruce, Wanda, and Clint were all sitting together with you. Steve didn’t recognize you, but the soft glow in the room seemed to both highlight you and make you seem like you were in soft focus. You had a slightly ruffled look like you’d woken up recently from a very good sleep. Clint was practically curled up next to you like a cat.

“Steven!” Thor boomed, making everyone near him jump in surprise. “Come here, I have someone I wish for you to meet.”

Steve tried to hide the frustration that suddenly bubbled up inside him. His friends had been trying to set him up with people for months and months now. He’d been on countless blind dates with people he had nothing in common with, and even more dinners with surprise guests he was forced to be on with. He hadn’t expected it from Thor and he resented the fact that even after such a grueling few weeks he needed to now play a round of the dating game.

Thor got up and approached Steve, clapping him on the shoulder as he gave your names. He leaned in, bringing his lips to Steve’s ear. “You may feel the urge to pull away. Resist it - for me.”

Steve sighed and nodded as you looked up at Thor. “You’re not staying?” You asked.

“Not tonight,” Thor answered. “I wish to celebrate.”

You gave him a small nod. “Well, you know where I am if you need me.”

“I do. Thank you,” Thor said, letting Steve go and heading back into the party where Tony was talking animatedly with Hill.

Steve took a seat near you. Clint looked up at him with hooded eyes, like Steve had just disturbed his sleep, but not enough to properly wake him up. There was an odd feeling of lethargy around the couches. Not in a bad way exactly. Just an overly relaxed sleepiness that made Steve wonder if they’d been partaking in marijuana before he’d gotten here. Along with the sleepy-looking Clint, Wanda had her legs tucked up under her and was staring absently out the window, while Bruce was relaxed back with a goofy looking smile on his face. It strangely had the effect of making him want to get up and leave in case he’d forgotten to do something.

“So what do you do?” Steve asked as he resisted the urge to go back down to the office and get his work done.

You smiled and shook your head like you found the question funny. “I like to paint,” you say. “And I make a mean breakfast.”

Steve looked at you puzzled. He’d never come across someone who answered that question with their hobbies rather than their job. He wondered if you didn’t have one and were embarrassed or if you did something you didn’t think Steve would approve of. The thought you were a HYDRA agent passed through his head and he looked over at Thor. “How do you know Thor?” Steve asked and Wanda started to giggle.

“We run in similar circles,” you say. “Though I admit, I do not know him well.”

“She’s not HYDRA, Steve,” Wanda giggled.

That knowledge made Steve relax a little and you smiled at him. “You’re holding a lot of tension, Captain Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve,” he said. “We’ve been on a mission for weeks now. It takes a lot of me. Everyone really.”

You placed your hand gently on his forearm. He normally didn’t like when strangers invaded his personal space like that. He’d had a fair amount of sexual harassment since becoming a supersoldier. However, there was nothing even flirtatious about the moment. It was genuine and kind and made him relax even more. “It can be hard to let it go,” you said. “But you are done, and now you can take the weight off your shoulders. No need to carry it tonight.”

Steve tilted his head. “Are you a therapist?”

You chuckled again. “I guess - of a sort,” you said.

Steve was perplexed by the vague nature of your answers and couldn’t help thinking people were hiding something from him like this was some big trick. Though he couldn’t see any reason why Thor of all people would be the instigator of such a trick.

“Will you relax, Steve?” Wanda chided. “She’s just a girl Thor thought you’d like.”

Steve tried to do as he was told. He had to admit that it wasn’t easy though. You definitely had a calming influence. Despite the loud music and drinking happening in the rest of the room, at the couches, it was like a slumber party. Bruce looked as relaxed as Steve had ever seen him, his whole body open and still as he talked calmly. Clint dozed on and off, waking to join in on the conversation and then dropping back off to sleep again, while Wanda was giggly, and about an hour in she said she was going to go to bed and paint her toenails.

Whatever it was that was affecting the others, Steve could feel it too, but in the middle of what was a raging party, Steve was unwilling to completely relax.

“You don’t like it here much, do you?” You asked.

Steve shrugged. “I don’t mind a party sometimes, but no… not today.”

“I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve had a home-cooked meal,” you mused. “Would you like to come back to my place?”

“No,” Clint whined as Steve balked. “Don’t go.”

“I don’t… that’s probably not a good idea,” Steve said.

“I meant for dinner, Steve,” you said. “I promise, no funny business.”

Clint sat up and stretched. “You should do it, Steve,” he said. “Live a little.”

Steve looked at Clint and Bruce who were both nodding in approval. He sighed and gave a small shrug. “I guess I’m coming then.”

You got up and offered your hand. “Come on, I won’t bite.”

He let you lead him out of the Tower and down into the street where you flagged down a cab. “I don’t usually do this,” Steve said, as he sat in the back with you.

“I know,” you said. “That’s why Thor set us up.”

“You’re not…” he stopped, not sure how to ask the question that was swirling in his mind right now and have it not come out as either offensive or judgmental. “Are you a sex worker?”

You smiled and shook your head. “No. I like my bed though.”

“Why are you being so vague then?” Steve asked.

“I can tell you if you really want to know,” you said. “But Thor thought you might fight it more if you knew.”

Steve tensed up and shifted away from you a little. “Do the others know?”

“Oh, yes,” you said. “And I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me, but I promise what it is, won’t hurt you. I’m not evil or malicious. I am not here because I have to be or I’ve been paid to be. You truly have just been set up with a woman. And I am that. I like you and I just want to take you somewhere you can relax and just enjoy a comforting meal. That’s all. If you don’t trust your friend on this, just say. I’ll tell you.”

Steve looked you over, trying to see the lie or the trick. All he could see was genuine kindness. He gave a nod. “Okay. Will you tell me eventually?”

“Of course,” you said. “When we’re both sure of how we feel about each other, I’ll tell you.”

The cab pulled up at a block of apartments on the upper west side. It was a large pre-war building, the kind that has been romanticized in hundreds of films and costs more than most people could dream of earning to live in.

He followed you in and the two of you rode the elevator up to your floor quietly. The tall ceilings and recessed walls of the hall brought him right back to his childhood. You let him into your apartment and for a moment Steve felt like he’d stepped into a storybook. The light was soft and diffused, filling the room with a hazy golden luminescence. The furniture all looked inviting and cozy, the deep soft-looking couches all had cozy mink throws on them and a collection of fat plush cushions. There were a few large bookshelves both filled with a mixture of books and board games. Your TV was large but not obnoxiously so, and your coffee table was littered with candles, magazines, and books.

“Get comfortable,” you said as you headed into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the living room.

Steve took a moment to look around your apartment. There was something about the room that reminded him of the way he and Bucky decorated. You had a different taste to either man. Steve was more into straight lines and dark wood, and Bucky like black and chrome, whereas you seemed to lean more into creams with splashes of color here and there. However, like with him and Bucky, you had a mix of old and new. Steve liked to keep things from his past whether they be actual things he had owned or just items that reminded him of his mother or times with Bucky. The things you owned seemed to go back further than what he owned, but there was a lot that seemed to center around the nineteen-twenties. Though they didn’t stop there. There were items representative of various decades littering your apartment. From depression-glass bowls to porcelain animals from the sixties to a lava lamp and a small collection of Pez Dispensers.

Steve noticed a copy of the Hobbit that looked remarkably like the copy he got when it came out. Picking up several books he noticed that many were first editions.

He went and sat down more confused about who you were than he had been before. You came out with a tray and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. Each was laden with pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and fresh fruit.

“It’s a little late for breakfast,” Steve said, looking at you with his eyebrow raised.

You shrugged. “I’m good at a few things, but this is the one that’s quickest,” you explained. “Otherwise we’d be up for a few more hours while I cooked.”

“Breakfast food it is,” he said and started to eat. You took your plate and sat back, crossing your legs under you and balancing your plate in your lap. “You have an interesting collection,” Steve said, gesturing to one of your bookshelves.

“Thank you. I try not to get too sentimental about what I keep and let go,” you said. “I know it’s a little eclectic but there are some things I just can’t let go of.”

“How long have you lived here?” Steve asked.

“A long time. Practically forever,” you answered

Steve wanted to ask you what you did for you to be able to afford living here but knew that would meet the same vague answer - so he let it drop and ate. The food was good. Warm and sweet and full of fat. It wasn’t long until Steve began to feel sleepy and content. You took the plates back away and when you returned to the living room, Steve was practically asleep on the couch. You came over and gently touched his arm.

“It would be more comfortable in bed,” you whispered.

“I don’t… I never sleep with women on the first date,” he replied, sheepishly trying to fight the drowsiness pulling him down.

“I have a spare room if you want it,” you said gently. “Though I just mean sleep.”

Steve stood slowly and followed you down the hall. You opened the spare bedroom. “This is my guest room.”

“And your bedroom?” He asked, part of him wondering if you’d drugged him.

“The end of the hall,” you replied, taking a few steps toward it. He followed you down and as he stripped down to his undershirt you changed into a soft pair of pajamas.

He climbed into the bed with you and you wrapped him in your arms. As he drifted off to sleep, he thought how strange it was that he felt as comfortable as he did right now.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #lazy mornings

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

Just one single glimpse of relief

TW: OC death, death themes

“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”

Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.

“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”

“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”

“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”

“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.

“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”

“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”

“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”

“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”

“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”

“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”

“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”

“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.

“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”

“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”

“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.

“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”

“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”

“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”

“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”

“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”

“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”

“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”

“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.

“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”

"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step.

“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”

“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile.

XxX

“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”

“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”

#danny phantom #me: makes up a random OC for the sake of the story #also me: oh my gawd sydney oh my goodd im so sorry baby Im sorry #the exciting continuation of Robin gets weirdly existential and peaceful about death #just the image of Danny saving the living then going on to talk to and help the dead he couldnt save move on #it fucking gets me okay?#he really is the bridge hero for the living and the dead alike #i love him so fucking much #well now Im emo for the rest of forever #title from Taylor Swifts epiphany #amazing a story title that DOESNT come from the 18-19th century death poem #i must be mad #Im reading it over again and its like way longer than it needs to be bc I kept adding more and more to sydnees story

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fireemblems24 · 3 years

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Dimitri's Supports

I have waited FOREVER for this. Let's go. And I decided to put my patience to the test, saving Dedue for last.

Since it's Dimitri and I love him, and like Dedue who I also love, he's the only one unlocking all his A-Supports, I'm going to blog all my reactions to them like I did with Dedue. Part of me wishes I thought of this for the other characters, but honestly it would've taken forever lol. Plus Dimitri and Dedue get special treatment because I said so.

Raphael

Starting off with something light hearted, I hope. I do wonder if I'm going to regret not saving this one for the inevitably heavy-handed stuff coming later.

I'm seriously betting this is a support you're supposed to get in part 1 lol. Dimitri sounds young (or maybe I'm just haven't heard non-growl part 2 Dimitri enough yet?)

Dimitri's training made Raphael think he was dying lol. Dimitri's strength is really meme tier.

I need fanart of Dimitri and Chrom co-miserating their mishandled strength breaking something. And Lucina.

Lamo, Raphael has never felt a cramp before. Lucky bastard.

Raphael is a sweetie, going to apologize to his muscles. I really wish they gave him something else to talk about other than muscles and food. Not everyone needs Dimitri tier development, but I think I'd like Raphael a lot more if he just got a smidge more depth.

Got to say, it's a bit jarring to go from "moments away from a suicide charge in the rain" to "lol, Raphael, it's muscle pain." As glad as I am that I got this support, I do think some should've been locked to part 1.

And this isn't just for Dimitri's development. I also saw Marianne and Raphael's B before this support and she reverted back to her part 1 self too.

Catherine

Maybe it's just me, but he does sound a bit older.

OMG - Dimitri's back. 😭😭😭

Sorry, it didn't really hit in that first one since that seemed like a part 1 support.

Oh, cool! I was wondering if anyone would bring up Catherine returning to Faerghus. My bets is she's too loyal to Rhea. (I guessed right)

Catherine be simpin. That's ok, I get it.

So it's not because Catherine dislikes Dimitri, or that she's absolutely needed to rule House Charon, so I think Dimitri just likes her. She's cool though. I get it.

Lamo, she told him he'd better get his sleep like he's a kid.

Curious how the A+ support will play out.

Mercedes

Team Mom's support!

Oh, no, this one's taking a serious turn isn't it? But their initial supports were so light and cute.

Mercedes just told Dimitri that he's kind to a fault. Somehow I know he's going to deny that.

Annnnnd I'm right 😭😭😭He's still calling himself a killer and disgusting monster 😭😭😭

OK - so THIS seems perfectly in tone with his recent character development. But it's so sad hearing him still talk about himself that way.

Mercedes is such a therapist. I can't. She's too pure. But savage. I saw that Lorenz support.

"I am scared . . . so scared that I will forget their faces." 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Dimitri why????

Mercedes telling Dimitri to live in the present. Her supports are always so good. I legit think she's easily a top 10 favorite in this game.

Wow, Dimitri saying if someone told him that 5 years ago, he'd be different. DID NO ONE EVER GIVE HIM ANY HELP AT ALL???

I love how she's talking to him as a classmate, and equal, and not talking up to him. He's always wanted that.

Dimitri's never given his own dreams any thought 😭😭😭He really was just 100% living for other people most of the time. 😭😭😭

Awww MERCEDES, I can't. She says she just wants to keep being his friend. This is so damn sweet. And heavy. But still sweet.

It just hits super hard knowing how badly Dimitri just wanted friends in part 1. And looking back, Mercedes and Sylvain were really the only two who were pretty casual with him.

Aww, yeah, Mercedes not putting up with the bullshit, Dimitri. Telling him to quit the self-deprecation! God, I love her.

Oh, God, they both said the old FE code for "we're married" i.e. I want to "stay by your side."

Ok, @garlandgerard, I totally get why you ship this. Mercedes loves to nurture people, and Dimitri's emotionally needy, so they match pretty well. She also didn't put up with the constant self-put-downs, but stayed gentle about it. And they talked like equals too, like friends, which is what Dimitri always wanted. It's all very sweet.

Annette

Yeah, see, this one starts off with "your highness," but Mercedes it was just Dimitri. No hate for Annette. She's my girl.

These two always give me sibling vibes.

Haha, Annette "I thought I already knew you, but I'm not sure I really do." Hmmmm wonder what Dimitri did that made her think that maybe there's parts of him she didn't know. No. idea.

Hey, Annette, no one blames you for not knowing what to say to Dimitri when they reunited lol.

Annette too pure too, wanting to cheer Dimitri up with his favorite food.

Her not knowing what he likes to eat is 100% that moment when you realize you don't know someone's favorite color.

HOW can Dimitri have no strong feelings about food. I'm having pizza right now. Let me tell you, I have strong feelings about some food.

I love how easily Dimitri deflected from talking about himself lol.

Awwww, Annette wants to live with her family again. I'll make that happen, Annette. Don't worry.

Haha, they're conspiring together behind Gilbert's back.

They still have an A+ support, which is weird, because that seemed pretty well ended? Like I see why Catherine's needed more, but not this one. Still, not going to say no. I like their dynamic.

Ingrid

OCF they're training. God I love all the Faerghus childhood group though.

Oh, fuck, here comes Glenn again. My heart's not ready for this with Rodrigue dead. Poor Felix.

Ingrid being Dimitri's knight 😊😊😊 as it should be.

Haha, Dimitri asks her for an interpretation. Just make her your knight.

Glad he hasn't started saying "I'm not worthy!" Because right now it's about Ingrid's feelings.

Wow, there, Ingrid. "However you please, Your Highness." That . . . that sounds like an invitation. To "staying by your side."

Dimitri laughed. 😊😊😊

Oh, God, this is so cute. His pause asking her to support and defend him as his knight. 😊😊😊 OMG. I'm not sure that's all she had in mind though, good Sir, have you LOOKED in the mirror?

Seriously though, Ingrid's just surrounded by studs, isn't she?

Oh, God, I'm right. She didn't just mean knight. But Dimitri's too dense in that area to notice. She crushing hard. Girl, I get you.

She blushing, saying "for the Kingdom," naw, she just like him. Me too, Ingrid. Me too.

Dimitri always makes people promise not to die on him. It's so sad considering . . .

Flayn

With Flayn it's always a toss up. Sometimes things are super light hearted, and other times it's way heavy.

On a random note, does no one wonder why Flayn hasn't aged a day in 5 years?

Flayn having nightmares. Not allowed. I bet it's fucking Jeritza's fault. I'm glad you get to rip him a new one so many times in this game.

Why is Flayn apologizing?? She's never done a thing wrong in her life.

Right, Flayn's other support with Dimitri was pretty heavy. And it started so funny with him stomaching her food.

Oh, good grief, what's he apologizing for? Ok - so Dimitri did do some things wrong. But not to Flayn.

He lied. Let me guess. Her food actually sucks.

Aw, got it. He went right to the meal. Is he really going to come out and say, well it actually sucked 😂

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

WHAT ABOUT ALL THOSE MEALS???? AND THE TEA an embarrassing amount of tea.

Wait. He can't taste ANYTHING??? Like. How? Did he hide that????

Ok - I need to look at his team and dining dialogue.

OMG. He really never says a word about how anything tastes? He always just talks about smells????

OMG. How did I NOT NOTICE. I've taken Dimitri to dinner a million times. And tea timed him too many times to admit too.

AND I NEVER NOTICED HE NEVER ONCE SAID HOW ANYTHING TASTED. HOW.

OMG that support with Annette hits different now 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

OMG and Dedue's support with Flayn hits different now. Since he wanted to badly to find food Dimitri loves 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Does Dedue know? Is that why he's so dedicated to cooking??

Can I headcannon that?

OMG, I feel so awful about that jab about pizza. Dimitri CAN'T TASTE pizza or anything 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Please someone tell me there isn't any more "this awful thing also happened to Dimitri and he's failed to tell you" like learning he almost fucking died at Duscur. And now this. Dimitri needs to learn how to fucking complain.

The writers are so fucking mean to Dimitri. OMG. OMG, how am I supposed to take him to dinner and tea now, knowing this?

Why does everything hit so differently now? And so many Blue Lions supports are about food - but Dimitri can't relate

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

This game needs to stop bullying Dimitri.

But like, God, can you imagine? Not tasting anything? I'd starve. I'd actually starve. I never really get hungry. I really would starve.

On the flip side, he's good for Flayn then, since someone can eat her cooking I guess.

"I was just saying what I thought you would want to hear . . ." Dimitri - a summary.

Naw, that's a kind lie. That kind of lie doesn't really hurt anyone.

Oh - dear God. Flayn. Stop. No sampling pungent food.

Oh, she blushing. Dimitri got her blushing

Please tell me in their paired ending Dimitri gets his taste back.

Oh, there's an A+, does he taste something. Please tell me he tastes something.

This support though. It wasn't really one on my radar but

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Gilbert

Oh, man, this one right after Flayn's. God, I'm going to need the Alois one after this. Gilbert and Dimitri are two of the most somber characters in the franchise.

And I haven't forgotten that heartbreaking B support.

Haha Lambert sucked at lying too. Dimitri too pure. Weirdly, despite everything, it's still pretty true.

Oh, shit, oh shit, we're back to Dimitri's demand that Gilbert kill him. I'm betting you usually get that in part 2.

God, imagine seeing Dimitri recover only to see him beg for death again 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I need alcohol.

I need the Alois support.

OMG, shit, Dimitri. No. Don't. Stop.

Like, I know Gilbert won't really kill him, but damn. This support is heavy.

No, Dimitri, no Gilbert is not cruel for not killing you. God.

Oh, not sure about this. I get what Gilbert's going at here, but telling Dimitri that he's not allowed to die because he's got a duty is . . . I think Rodrigue's and Mercedes' live for what you want/the present is a LOT healthier.

At the same time, this is a pretty effective way to make sure Dimitri won't go and try this again, because he really takes duty seriously.

Dimitri doesn't wish to die? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh, thank God.

"Many times I have felt that I cannot afford to die . . . But this was the first time I truly feared the prospect." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"Is it really right for me to live?" Oh, dear God. I'm so soft for Dimitri. I can't.

Gilbert answered that one right. 100%.

Damn, these supports.

Alois

OK. I need this one. I really need this one.

I really hope Alois' inspiration is bad puns. I need bad puns right now.

Pretty sure this is a part 1 support though. I love how Alois, not Dimitri, is leading this. And that the person the Kingdom NEEDS is running around and getting attacked by monsters lol

Ok, bad puns. Bring them.

There we go. Thank you, thank you, Alois.

OMG no one's laughing 😂😂😂

Dimitri's laughing 😭😭😭😭😭😭

That's it. This is always getting saved for part 2. I need to hear part 2 Dimitri laugh.

I'm also so glad someone finds Alois funny. Dimitri and Petra need to start a club.

OMG I love the two other confused soldiers. I needed this 😂😂😂

Marianne

These two were so sweet in their C and B supports.

I swear I'm going to end up shipping Dimitri with everyone. Except maybe Annette, no hate, they just seem so much like brother and sister to me.

And Felix x Annette 100%

Survivor's Guilt - the pairing. Both wondering why they survived 😭😭😭

"There are so many others who are much more deserving of life . . ." - who said it? Marianne or Dimitri?

These two just understand how each other feels so well. It hits so different compared to Marianne's other romantic possible supports where they just try to make her smile.

Instead these two take comfort in finding someone who understands how they feel so well and feel relieved they can share that with someone.

Haha - "I must go on living. I cannot give in to death so readily." This coming right after his support with Gilbert. Good job, Gilbert.

They've both had it so rough 😭😭😭😭😭😭

"There is no need to force yourself to smile as your soul bleeds." Dimitri always gives such good advice that he never follows.

Aww, now at least it's getting cute instead of just heavy. Marianne laughed too 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Yesss, Girl, preach. I got a little sick of her other supports all being "cheer up!" Like I know it's all in good faith, but I'm so glad this chain exists. It just hits different.

Dimitri doesn't think he's strong enough to live his life. 😭😭😭 this game. I swear.

ohhhh - ohhh, Dimitri blushing now. And all she needed to say was they've been brought closer together. Congrats Marianne!

OHHHH tables have been turned. Now someone's making Dimitri promise he needs to live!

"I don't know what I'd do with myself if we lost you . . ."

"I promise to the goddess of Fodlan that I will never give you cause for despair."

OMG these two are being so sweet, I can't. 😭😭😭😊😊😊

Felix

Oh, boy, here we go. This should be . . . interesting.

Oh, we're starting off good I see. Felix telling Dimitri he needs to answer quickly or get cut in half 😔Felix. No.

Dimitri sounds so somber 😭

Dimitri admitting both are him - the vengeful "boar" and the friendly good person. And this is why I love him.

Dimitri feels the need to shoulder all the regret the dead feel, please don't. They wouldn't want that 😭😭😭😭😭

"The dead won't acknowledge your loyalty, they don't care." - Felix not wrong there.

I partly agree with the idea Dimitri is "serving his own ego" by claiming he's acting for the dead. I think it's a bit more complicated than that, but I think that's part of it.

Felix saying some good stuff here about the dead being dead and the living being living.

"If you keep stringing gravestones around your neck, you'll snap." - Felix, I don't know if you noticed but . . . uh . . . he sort of did.

Felix telling Dimitri to become a grave keeper is a bit funny. Not going to lie.

"I'm not immune to emotion you know." - just tsunderes things

Aw, Felix is upset his father died 😭😭 after all that shit-talking about Rodrigue 😭😭

Wish Felix didn't cut Dimitri off when he said "more than anyone you-" (care about other people, unless he joins CF and just kills everyone)

Oh, God, Felix is such a tsundere. "I couldn't stand the pathetic look on your face. That's all." Sure, Felix.

Kinda wish these two had an A+ though. Seems like there's more to do than the A+ with Annette and Flayn.

Really curious to see what their paired ending is like after that. Seems they're still learning to learn about each other. Well, Felix is. Dimitri didn't seem too upset lol.

Dedue

Ok guys. Here we go. I can't believe I managed to wait for this for last. Everyone hyped this one, so let's hope.

Really? We open with Dimitri having scars on his back? 😭

From 9 years ago? So scars from Duscur then?

Images of shirtless Dimitri now. though Not bad images.

He got scars protecting Dedue?

"It makes me think that is was worthwhile that someone like me survived." 😭😭😭 he's talking about protecting Dedue? 😭😭😭

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"But I saved someone - saved you. That and that alone has been my crutch." 😭😭😭😭😭

I always knew these two were co-dependent.

Dimitri really out here saying that saving Dedue helped him "justify" surviving. 😭😭😭😊😊😊

OMG THAT'S THEIR STORY

OMG, poor Dedue. And Dimitri 😭😭😭did he literally "take a bullet" to save Dedue 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 and still has scars? No wonder Dedue's so loyal. Some kid he didn't know did that. That's one hell of an introduction.

And picturing little Dedue just resigned and angry and waiting to die and just 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh, Dedue, you've repaid that debt ten-fold I'm sure.

Ahaha, Dimitri's doing the "you'd better accept your worth!" discussion this time lol.

Dear God these two. Now Dimitri's bringing up that Dedue busted him out of the jail.

I swear, these two have more of a plot off screen than some routes do on screen.

And now picturing Dimitri resigned and just ready to die. And then Dedue busts in. 😭😭😭

"That was nothing more than my duty as your vassal." Stop that Dedue. Dimitri doesn't want you to be his vassal. He wants more.

Holy shit.

"You are irreplaceable. Cherished." 😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊

Not to be that person - but I tell all my "friends" that.

Yes, Dedue, stop saying insisting you're just a "vassal" - that's a worse joke than Alois' puns from earlier.

"Please . . . do not look at me that way." What way, like you're about to make Dimitri cry, or like . . .

"You promised me you would build a Kingdom that is proud to boast of Duscur blood." - shit, man, these two. I just . . .

OMG so much emotion from Dedue. The only time I ever heard that before was in VW when he learned Dimitri died. But let's not remember that right now 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh shit. He called him "Dimitri." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

And it made him blush.

OMG.

Guys, these two.

Aww, Dimitri looks so surprised. 😊😊😊😊😊😊

Oh, these two are so soft for each other. I can't. I just can't.

"To be your friend . . . is what I have always wanted." You're going to get it.

Man, I feel almost guilty S-Supporting Dimitri. He needs to pair up with Dedue pronto.

Dimitri sounds chocked up. OMG.

"So please call upon me when you walk alone at night." Ok. Dedue. Ok. Yes. Guys. This is all very straight.

I'm not saying it's - you know - cannon, but there's some big feels here.

Oh, Dimitri, stop it. You like Dedue's overprotectiveness. Don't lie.

Man, you guys were so right. Dimitri really just came out and said Dedue was "cherished" and "irreplaceable." Like, I'm not making this stuff up. And Dedue blushing hardcore just saying Dimitri's name.

They're both just so soft. I can't. I literally cannot. This support was gold. It was worth all they hype.

And learning more about how they meant. Dimitri really taking a bullet for Dedue there. I just . . .

I just want all the happiness for both of them. They're really something special towards each other. Like I legitimately think this is one of the most two-way loyal relationships in the whole franchise, and definitely the tightest bond in this game.

Like in past games you had Seth for Ephraim and Erikia and Soren for Ike and it's not like Ike, Ephraim and Erikia and etc don't care, but it wasn't the same level, you know? But this is such a two way street.

And I'm so weak for bodyguard with a crush. Like Seth/Eirika? Yes. Geoffrey/Elincia? 100%. Riza/Roy (Fullmetal Alchemist) there again. I'm sure there's more, but those are my top ones. Even Merlin/Arthur sort of counts even if Arthur doesn't know Merlin's his bodyguard lol.

I need to read fanfic for these two. I really don't want to spoil anything, but I'm dying. They're both just so sweet, and I just really love their dynamic. I really want to do a write up on it once I get to the end of the game.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri fire emblem #fe3h #fe16

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bookwrm99 · 3 years

Text

Sweet Dreams pt. 1

So, I've had to switch my medication recently for my anxiety, and it's been a bit rough. I normally have a bit of a problem with nightmares because of stress, but since starting Effexor it's been like... on steroids. One of my ways of coping with my mental health is writing, so I've started working on an Obey Me! series of short fics with each of the brothers comforting an MC who's been suffering from long-term night terrors as a medication side-effect. I debated about whether to post them or not, but ultimately I feel like if they can be comforting reads to someone else in a similar situation to mine, of course I'd want to share them! So, here's part one with Lucifer. Please know this is based on my own personal experiences with my anxiety and medications- mental health isn't one-size-fits-all, and everybody experiences it differently on all fronts. Not everybody will experience anxiety the way MC does in these fics, and that's okay! MC is not meant to be representative of everyone everywhere who has ever dealt with having an anxiety disorder- I personally think such a thing is impossible anyway. That being said, please practice good reader discretion if mental health is a hard topic for you- the last thing I want to do is harm someone else's mental health with my writing. I'll post specific trigger warnings just above the cut, so you'll know exactly what you're getting yourself into before you continue!

Now that the long disclaimer is out of the way... I hope that you enjoy this small fic series, reader! It was cathartic for me to write, and I hope they can bring comfort to others too.

Genre: Comfort with Lucifer x gn!reader (if you squint)

Word Count: 2.2k

TW: Mentions of anxiety and treatments, depictions of anxiety and nightmare aftermath, descriptions of nightmares

Lucifer was worried.

Not that he would admit to it. He was the Avatar of Pride, and as such he had an image to maintain. After all, just because someone fails to reply to text messages and calls- or does something out of their norm, like skipping breakfast- it doesn't necessarily mean there's something dire afoot.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Lucifer tried to school his facial features into something close to neutral as his brothers fretted and discussed (Y/N)'s radio silence, and now their absence at breakfast. Mammon was the first to make a commotion about it, of course, causing the other brothers to slowly voice their own concerns about the resident human exchange student.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's just not like them! We ough'ta check on them. What if they caught some kind of weird human disease and died in their sleep?!" Mammon boomed out, fists clenched and resting on the table as he leaned forward over his plate.

"I highly doubt that, Mammon. I don't know of any human disease with such a quick onset and short incubation period before death. Still, it is a bit worrying. Should we make sure they're alright?" Satan, ever the voice of reason, spoke calmly, looking to the eldest to gauge his reaction to his question.

"Maybe they had a late start? I did suggest a new morning skincare regimen for them; maybe they've taken my advice?" Asmo practically crooned, no doubt preening at the thought of a small success with the exchange student- and probably thinking other impure thoughts related to them getting ready for the day.

"They need to make sure they eat. It's no good trying to learn on an empty stomach," Beel interjected, shaking his head and settling a hand on his stomach, clearly appalled at the thought of enduring that kind of experience.

Lucifer kneaded the small ache that had started to form between his eyes from his brothers' bickering and rapid-fire speculations. A sharp pain lanced through his skull from said place when Mammon brought his closed fists down on the table forcefully, rattling the dishes and forcefully pushing himself and his chair back.

"That's it, I'm checkin' on 'em! If all you guys are gonna do is sit around-"

"Enough, Mammon," Lucifer spoke, commanding the attention of all his brothers. A pregnant silence fell over the room as the Morningstar sighed, casually tossing his linen napkin onto the table beside his empty plate as he calmly pushed his chair back to stand. "I will check on them myself. The rest of you are to go about your days as normal unless you hear otherwise."

A couple of the brothers muttered angrily under their breath, but most seemed satisfied with the decision. Without another word, Lucifer strode from the room, leaving his brothers to clean up and be on their way to RAD.

When Lucifer reached (Y/N)'s room, his superhuman hearing picked up soft sniffles from within, heightening his concern about the human. He rapped his knuckles against the solid wood of the door, calling out their name gently but at a volume where he knew he would be heard. When he didn't hear them stir, and nobody came to the door, he resolved himself to intruding upon a potentially sensitive situation. "(Y/N), I'm coming in."

When he opened the door and took a couple steps across the threshold, he panicked a bit at first, not seeing any sign of (Y/N) in the room. Another small sniff allayed those fears, though, and he closed the door softly behind him, making his way into the space as he looked for the human. He finally found them curled up into a small ball on the floor in a corner of the room, out of sight of the door, their face pressed into their knees as they trembled.

The sight in front of him broke Lucifer's heart. (Y/N) had brought such brightness to his and his brothers' lives, showing them the utmost care and showering them with love they hadn't realized they were starved for. To see them like this- shaking with pent-up sobs and white knuckles as they squeezed their hands into fists- was a blow directly to the eldest's normally ice-cold heart.

"(Y/N)," he breathed, slowly approaching as if he was walking towards a frightened, injured fawn. His entire presence softened as he got down on one knee beside the upset exchange student, fighting the overwhelming urge to gently turn their face to his or pull them into his arms. "What's happened?"

(Y/N) shook their head, their arms tightening around their knees. "It's stupid. I'll be fine. Please don't worry about me- I'll be down for breakfast soon."

Lucifer's face pulled down into an even deeper frown at their words, bothered that they were so quick to invalidate themself and push comfort away. "Well- that's why I'm here. Breakfast was over an hour ago, and my brothers are worried about you."

(Y/N)'s head shot up at that, and for the first time Lucifer got a good look at their flushed, tear-stained face. "God- I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to worry anybody- I'm such a burden-"

Lucifer made hushing noises, and unable to restrain himself anymore he sat fully on the ground, pulling the human into his arms as they hiccupped and began to sob. When they didn't push him away and began leaning into him, he tightened his hold, rubbing small circles into their lower back as their tears soaked his left shoulder, all the while murmuring soothing words in their ear. After what seemed like a small slice of eternity, but what in reality may have only been fifteen minutes or half of an hour, the exchange student's tears slowed, then stopped altogether, though silent sobs continued to wrack their smaller frame.

Lucifer lifted his head from where he had rested it on top of theirs, leaning back slightly to see their face as he gently tilted it towards him. Red eyes looked back at him, glazed with exhaustion and something else he couldn't quite pinpoint. Reaching up with a gloved hand, he gently cupped their face in the palm of his hand, wiping away the tears he could reach with his thumb.

"You aren't a burden, (Y/N). You go out of your way for myself and my brothers, doing things nobody asked of you to lift us up and make our lives easier. We've needed somebody like you for a long time now, and if anything we are a burden on you. We worry about you because we care." Lucifer broke the silence, his voice gentle but leaving no room for argument. "I won't push you into telling me what's wrong... but if you would like to talk about it, I promise I will do everything in my power to make things right."

Their eyes wavered, then shifted to the side, a frown continuing to mar their beautiful face. "Lu, I... it means a lot to me for you to say something like that. I just... I don't think there is anything you can do, or anybody for that matter, and not for lack of wanting to."

(Y/N) paused for breath, and Lucifer waited, sensing their internal debate about disclosing their struggle to him. Finally, they sighed, sagging against him as if all the strength had just left their body. "You saw my file," they said flatly, their head against his chest. Lucifer tightened his hold around them once again, pressing his face to the crown of their head and making a small sound of affirmation.

"Did it say anything about my anxiety disorder?"

Lucifer paused. Yes, he had noted that there was a mental health condition in their profile- generalized anxiety, with therapist notes stating it had a strong social skew- but it had never come up in conversation with (Y/N) before, and with how bright and happy they usually were, he thought they might be in remission- either that, or managing it extremely well.

(Y/N) continued on before he could answer them. "Barbatos has been making sure I have my medication- which is great, since of all the SSRIs I've tried it's the only one that seems to help level me out. But, the bad thing is... my doctor didn't tell me that a lot of people experience nightmares while on it, and ever since I've started it, it seems like I'm having them almost every single night." They paused for breath, their entire body tensing up, and Lucifer began to soothingly stroke their bicep with his thumb, where his hand had settled after they shifted. "Most of the time they're really vivid and... weird? Like, I had a nightmare a few nights ago that I was leading an expedition into the far North back in the human realm, and just as we were about to reach an Inuit settlement I got lured over the side of the boat by sea monsters and drowned... which has absolutely no relevance to my life experience. Obviously. But in the moment they're so scary-" They shuddered, then continued, almost as if they couldn't stop themself now that they had started speaking. "And then other times they're those really vague ones- like, running away from something through a deep forest at night, and suddenly you're falling off a cliff. But then there's, like, maybe 25% of them that actually are relevant to me- some of the worst periods and moments of my life- and those-" They almost choked on their words at the end, and Lucifer squeezed gently, worried they might start crying again.

When they stayed silent, Lucifer spoke. "How long has this been going on?"

There was a pause before the human answered, as if they knew he wouldn't be happy. "Since before I was brought here."

Lucifer was shocked. The exchange student had been here for several months already, and he was only just now hearing about this? Another pang lanced through his heart, wondering how many other mornings they had spent like this, and he deeply regretted the thought of them spending so many nights tortured by their own mind, all alone.

"You should have come to me sooner, (Y/N). You didn't have to suffer in silence." Lucifer's tone softened the words, and he again leaned back to get a look at the expression on the exchange student's face.

"I didn't want to be- troublesome. All your brothers have their own commitments and things they do, and you especially have so much on your plate. I didn't want to disrespect anybody's time."

Just when Lucifer thought things couldn't get worse, they did. He could hear their fear of being a burden, even with their carefully chosen words. The exchange student had put themself through months of agony, all because they hadn't wanted to trouble him. The revelation deeply disturbed him. A handful of months was nothing in a demon's life, just a blip, but for a human? That was a very long time.

"You are incredibly important, to all of us. Your struggles are never a waste of our time, even if you feel they're insignificant." Lucifer spoke firmly, trying to put every ounce of the conviction he felt into his voice. He reached up again to gently turn the human's face towards him, meeting their eyes with his own crimson ones. "Please, don't put yourself through something like this again. If I can bring even a small amount of the comfort you've brought me back to you, I would move the heavens to do it. Promise me."

Their eyes glimmered, and their bottom lip trembled. "I promise," they almost whispered, their voice choked up.

Lucifer impulsively brought his face closer to theirs, softly placing a chaste kiss on their forehead. The exchange student sniffled, bringing their hands up to wipe at their face.

"I will talk to Solomon and Satan about any potions they might know of to combat your nightmares. In the meantime, please come find me in the event that they wake you up in the middle of the night. I'm no stranger to night terrors."

When they acquiesced, he smiled, satisfied. "Now, get dressed. I'm informing Lord Diavolo that we're taking a personal day off- no buts." He spoke, already seeing the protest in their eyes and on their lips, which had parted on the start of a word. "We'll do whatever you want. My treat."

Their brows furrowed. "Won't you get in trouble?"

Lucifer stood, bringing (Y/N) up with him. "Not if I'm doing it for the exchange student's benefit. I'll give you ten minutes while I make the call." The softness the Morningstar had displayed was now gone, replaced with his usual composure as he began walking towards the door, fishing his D.D.D. out of his pocket as he moved.

"Lu?"

He paused at the door, turning back to look at the human. Their eyes were glimmering in the dim light of the room, arms wrapped around their waist. Lucifer thought they were about to cry again until he recognized the sheer gratitude in their expression.

"Thank you, for this- and for everything."

Lucifer showed a soft smile, just for them. "Anything for you, (Y/N)."

#obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me #obey me!#obey me! lucifer #soft lucifer #comfort #lucifer x gn!reader

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writingsfromhome · 3 years

Text

Bad Timing II

A/N: I’m just about finished the whole series and I’m excited for you to read this! <3 Sorry for the late upload, I started a new semester and had zero time to write but I worked on this all weekend. I’m curious to know if your opinions on Harry change after this part, the next part’s going to be packed but this is an in-between. Thanks as always for reading <333

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

I lay awake in bed, staring at the blank ceiling before my phone’s constant buzzing forces me up. A couple voicemails, and a single text from Harry: GM, call me if you need anything.

I stare at it longer than I should, the audacity to think we were fine enough to text me so casually. But there was some small solace in knowing he took the extra step to let me know. Ugh; my head injury was more serious than the medic diagnosed. I throw my phone on the bed and head downstairs where I’m surprised to see him gone. It was only 8am and I needed a coffee, otherwise I would not make it through the day. When I see the pot of coffee half full, I stop in my tracks. Harry made coffee before he left. I touch the pot and it’s still warm, he couldn’t have left that long ago.

I open the dishwasher that I’d loaded last night only to find it empty. I stand straight, hand on my hips--had he unloaded the dishes too? How did I not wake up to the noise? How did he even know where everything went?!

Maybe he wasn’t such a dense detective after all, the thought makes me smile. I look around the room and notice he’d tidied up from last night, and folded everything away on the couch he slept on. I take my coffee to the couch and without thinking, hug the pillow to my face and inhale. The strong scent of his aftershave sends a sharp and painful jolt to my memories. What the hell was I doing?

I drop the pillow and settle on my kitchen table, responding to some emails while I make a game plan for the day, shaking off the claustrophobic feeling I got thinking about going back to work. I finish the last of the coffee and start moving, shower, dress appropriately, pack my laptop...I just had to keep busy so I wouldn’t have time to think about it.

***

“We’re here for you, whatever you need,” the regional manager lets me know during the meeting. I’d learned post-trauma policies the bank had. I was sorry to know them, I really just wanted to put the whole thing behind me. I tell her that. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. We do require you to go to at least one counseling session, your employees have got to go to a group meet with a licensed therapist so you can all discuss this and get over the awful event.”

“I see,” I chew my lower lip. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about the way I jumped at every little thing and stared down each and every stranger on the tube on my way in today. I felt crazy. Maybe I did need a shrink. “I’ll include that in the memo I guess. Thanks again for all the support and the resources-”

“That’s my job, our job.” She motions to the man sitting beside her who hadn’t actually said much the whole time. We talk for a little while longer, and by the time they leave I’m exhausted. But I make the trek to the hospital to visit Cole like I told him I would.

***

The weekend flies by: I take the train to visit my dad up north and let him take care of me like I was a kid again. It was nice to unwind, I thought, I should visit my dad more often.

But come Monday, I’m back in my pantsuit ready to get on with my life. I try not to think about Thursday too hard but it’s difficult when first thing that morning, a therapist shows up for a group session. Most of my employees look anxious to be here, but I watch their shoulders relax as they discuss what happened. Watching everyone bond brings a lightness to the heaviness that sat in my chest: it was good.

“Ms. Y/L/N? When can we schedule a one-on-one?” The therapist stops me at the end of the session.

“I think this session helped a lot,” I put on a big smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

She smiles politely, as if she expected this, “It’s a requirement for back-to-work. I have time right now if you’d like, I’m not seeing another employee until lunch.”

“Um,” I look to where everyone mingles, comforting each other and breaking off into groups. If I had to talk about it in order to work, and work is the only thing to help me get my mind off of it...I guess I had no choice. “Let’s do it now.”

But an hour later and I’ve mostly just talked her ear off about Harry showing up, how awful my luck was that he would be the lead detective on the case, how much damage he’d done to me. How he appeared on one of the worst days of my life again.

“It’s almost a sign,” I ramble. “Like...what are the odds?!”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” She asks, looking like she knew the answer.

“No,” I scoff. “I hate him. He broke my trust!” And my heart.

“Those are feelings,” she says wisely.

“Well sure, yeah, I have negative feelings towards him. Why wouldn’t I?”

She pauses, a very pregnant pause. “It’s been almost 4 years right? Usually, those feelings start to...dissolve into a more neutral ground when you...receive closure. You take time to grieve, to sit in the wound in your heart, but then you pick yourself up and try to heal. It seems like you’ve just told yourself you were healed and got on.”

“I am healed,” I insist.

“Just like you started this sessions by letting me know you were over the trauma that happened to you a few days ago?” She asks. I avoid her gaze. “When I asked about Thursday, you said you were ‘over it’ and you just wanted to focus on work but you’re not giving yourself closure. Likewise, with Harry. You haven’t found closure even after all these years.”

I stare at her, she’d sliced right into a vulnerable part of me--I’d led her there, I realise. It was something I knew all along, I just didn’t want to point at it alone.

“You’re right...I feel like I never got closure.” I confess. “How? I just want to know h-how he could’ve left me for another woman after all those years together--as lovers and as friends? He was there when mum...he was there through hell. And then he put me through hell.”

“I’d like to believe Harry showing up on a...hellish day is a sign like you say. But maybe a sign you need closure. Talk to him, ask him what you need to know in order to close that chapter of your life.”

I exhale, the idea of it making me feel claustrophobic. She wanted me to open myself up to him again and invite him to hurt my feelings? I try to ask her more but she looks at her watch. We’d gone over.

I thank her and walk out with a weight on my back that feels bigger than the one I went in with. I thought therapy was supposed to make me feel lighter.

***

I’m hiding behind my desk as the footsteps get closer and closer to the door. I clutch the knife in my hand and-

“Y/N!”

I jump up out of sleep, and open my eyes to my office. I stare at the table in front of me where the papers I used as a pillow are rumpled.

“Y/N? You have a call on-”

“Adam,” I look at my assistant. He’d been really quiet today and I was worried about him but there was so much to catch up on I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him. “Sorry I...haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...the detective’s on the line he insisted he talk-”

I roll my eyes and answer the phone, motioning for Adam I’d be okay. He hesitates at the door before closing it tightly behind him.

“Y/N?” Harry’s breathless voice answers irritably on the other line.

“Harry? Why are you calling me at work?” I ask, still sleepy from the nap. Is this about the case?”

“No it’s about your things at the station, it was processed--we couldn’t find anything useful so we’re returning this batch. And I think some of it belongs to your staff? Did you want to pick it up or should I drop it off to yo-”

“I’ll pick it up,” I wanted to make it clear that Harry in my space wasn’t going to be a normal thing. “I’ll head out in a bit, can I just collect it at reception?”

“They’ll buzz you through to me, I’ve gotta go-”

“Just leave it with reception...” I say to dead air. He’d already hung up. Damn.

***

“I’m here for some things, it was taken for evidence?” I say to the woman at reception.

“You’ll have to be more specific love,” she raises an eyebrow. “A lot happens here.”

“The bank rob-”

“Ah, Harry’s case. I’ll buzz you through-”

“No I thought maybe I could collect it here uh-” I look for a nameplate. “Serena, listen, I’m in a rush so is there any way for you to get it-”

The phone ringing cuts me off. She holds up her finger and I stand tapping my foot. She rolls her eyes at whoever was on the other line, motions that they were chatty and points to the glass doors. I sigh, I guess I was seeing Harry. I think about my therapist and cringe, I couldn’t.

When I walk in, I scan the room for Harry but I don’t spot him anywhere. I walk awkwardly until someone asks if they could help but they point to his desk and tell me I could wait there.

“I’m actually here to pick up some evidence, couldn’t you just give it to me?”

“He’s the lead officer, he’s got to sign off--”

“Fine,” I hated the bloody bureaucracy around here. I go to where he points and sit in Harry’s chair, ignoring the looks from people around me. I toy with the pen and doodle on an empty paper. Y/N was here I write and smile, it was juvenile.

“Y/N! Sorry! Nobody told me you were here.” Harry shows up a few minutes later. He opens the bottom drawer and takes out a nondescript cardboard box. If I knew if was down there I would’ve left a long time ago. “Just need you to sign this.”

“Okay,” I sign where he points and reach for the box. “I’ll grab that, thank you.”

“Can I walk you out?” He fiddles with his phone.

“Will you take no for an answer?”

“Nope,” he’s all teeth when he smiles. I sigh and walk in front of him. It’s weirdly silent but I notice he was typing on his phone when I look over.

“Well...g’night then.” I say at the door but he pushes it open and walks out with me.

He finally puts his phone away and asks. “Are you alright? Have you gone back to work?”

“Yeah,” I chew at my bottom lip, nervous. “We’re really sticking together, trying to get through it.”

“That’s good. That’s how it should be.” He waits a beat. “We’ve been trying to catch the robbers, they hit up another bank so it’s hell inside. That’s why I was so busy.”

“Another?” My heart plummets, and my palms feel slick.

“Yeah but we’re working as fast as we can. So...uh, did you need anything from me before you go?”

“I...” I think about the therapist’s words and chew my lower lip. I try to work up the courage. Fuck it, I realise. I had nothing to lose. “I do...actually.”

“Oh,” he looks surprised. “Good, what’s that?”

“I want to talk, about us. I...I need like, closure Harry. I think I deserve an explanation about...” I trail off as I notice him staring at me blankly. “What?”

His blank expression settles into confusion. “What’s more to explain Y/N. I’ve told you everything, I-I dunno. I thought one day we could get together like old friends, but it’s obvious you’re still upset with everything and I don’t know what more I can say? I said everything in that letter but if-”

“The letter?” I ask sharply, cutting off his chatter.

“Yeah, the one I wrote you after we...after you moved out?” When I don’t react he continues: “I dropped it off at your sister’s the week after you cleaned out your things? You didn’t...read it?” He looks hurt, if that was possible all these years later.

“I...did. Obviously I just...had some questions.” My heart races; what letter? He wrote me a letter?

“So what do you want to ask?” He looks at me curiously, concern etched in his brows. “I would like to talk actually-”

“Now’s not a good time,” I cut him off again. I had to know about this letter first. I can’t believe I walked into this blind. “I’ve actually had a long day, this is--we can do this another time, okay? Thanks for...walking me out.”

***

The first thing I do when I get home is call my sister. I can sniff her guilt a whole country away.

“Y/N, you were heartbroken! Y-you didn’t need to have it broken all over again reading his stupid letter! I was looking out for you!”

“That wasn’t your call!” I raise my voice. “I’ve been...I haven’t had closure all this time! I thought he didn’t even care enough to try to explain it to me and you knew he sent a letter this whole time?”

“Well when he showed up to the flat I wasn’t about to-”

“When did he come to the flat?” I wanted to strangle my sisters and her protective instincts.

“After you moved your things out. He wanted to see you and I knew you were a mess, I told him you never wanted to speak to him. I was looking out for you babe I-I didn’t even realise I was keeping you from closure I just...I didn’t want you hurting. Don’t be mad.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, she was right. It was Harry who hurt me, and I shouldn’t take it out on her. “I know. I know. I’m sorry for yelling I just-I wish I could read that letter.”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffs. “I should’ve given it to you once you moved out...I still have it though. I think I tucked it into my old yearbook. D’you want me to...”

“Mail it? Yes, as soon as possible please. I need to know what he wrote.”

“What if you just get hurt all over again?” she asks.

“I’ve been hurting, I don’t think his outdated explanation will hurt any more. Just please mail it the first chance you get okay?”

I was so close to it, I think. I had to get that letter. I needed closure. I deserved it. And just knowing I could get it, it’s almost like I was waking up in a dark tunnel I hadn’t realised I was in this whole time. I knew where I was, and I could see light on the horizon.

H POV:

The last time I had a full night’s sleep was on Y/N’s couch, this case was a lot bigger than we thought. It wasn’t just a robbery at one branch, these same people have hit up two other places in the last few days and they were good. The worst part was they weren’t afraid to use a gun.

“Chief,” one of the constables comes up to my desk, where I’d been staring at footage for the last hour. “There’s been um, there’s a problem-”

“Spit it out,” I say, eyes still on the screen.

“The evidence you released on Monday...blokes down in evidence can’t find the SIM from the scene...we think they accidentally left it with that batch.”

I look up from my screen and I can practically see the sweat breaking out on his brow as I stare. If that was important evidence, we’d misplaced it at the height of an investigation. My arse would be on the line too--it was my name on the authorization letter.

“Don’t panic until we’re sure it’s not with the evidence we gave out,” I get up and put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m looking into it right now, don’t let anybody know it’s happened.”

I grab my jacket from my chair and root in the pocket for my phone but Y/N’s number goes to voicemail. I curse. I look at the time, it was 6 already. I had a feeling she might kill me but I would have to drive to her place, I hoped she didn’t leave the evidence at work...after all I did tell her to return it to her employees...I have the brief thought of asking her in the morning but I remember my arse on the line and walk quicker.

“Woah, someone’s in a hurry,” Detective Cole comments as I rush past her. “Not even a hello.”

“Sorry,” I flash her a smile. “Urgent!”

“Need any help?”

I pause long enough to turn around and answer. “Normally I would say yes but I’ve got to do this.”

“Don’t let me keep ya,” she smiles, I notice Serena eyeing the both of us suspiciously as she packs up for the day. She was always trying to convince me to ask her on a date, but I was done with dating coworkers after I made the mistake of marrying one and breaking up quickly thereafter in the past. I’d changed careers quickly after that.

Y/N’s POV:

“Oh my god,” I stop in the middle of my bedroom as my sister reveals her big news over Facetime, an ultrasound held up to the camera. “Oh my god!”

“I know!” She squeals.

“I-I-you’re pregnant!” I was shocked, I didn’t even know my sister was trying for a third kid. “You better give me a bloody niece this time!”

My sister laughs, one hand on her belly. I should’ve known, I realise, she’d been cryptic the last few times we talked, dropping clue, but I’d been so wrapped up in other things I didn’t pick up on them. “It wasn’t even planned but Y/N, it feels right. The boys are stoked--they want a sister too.”

“I am so happy for you and Stu,” I let out a whoop. “I wish I could hug you! I’m going to book some time next month and come see you--this is big! Did you tell dad?”

“Not yet, don’t say anything--oh,” a cry bursts out from somewhere on her end. She rolls her eyes and tells me she would call me back. But I get a text to say there was an accident with a toy truck and a jug of OJ, she would call me back later in the evening when everything was settled.

I throw my phone down on my bed and sit on the edge in my robe, I’d just come out of the shower to my sister’s call. I was over the moon for her, but it was times like these I felt like an awful person. Because as I think about her happy news, I put my hand to my own belly and imagine what it would’ve been like to be the one calling family with good news. The familiar ache in my chest comes back, once upon a time I did have good news for a short period of time.

It was a few months before Harry and I split, I’d skipped a period and went immediately to the pharmacy. I’d decided to wait for a week before I would tell Harry because he was stressed from work. He was always stressed at that job, but I wanted it to be perfect. I’d spent the whole week stopping by nursery stores, browsing baby books, even buying a few onesies and the cutest booties I couldn’t put down. I picture the baby--mine and Harry’s, wearing them.

But the day I’d planned to tell him, I’d woken up and knew instantly something was wrong. I never told him, I fought with him that day instead...I couldn’t even remember over what. I held the awful burden on my own, packed the future I couldn’t have into a little box and shoved it under the bed. A few months later, Harry and I were over. That future was as fragile as the paper-thin wings of a butterfly, one that would never take flight.

I do what I did on my darkest days, I root underneath my bed and pull out the box.

I still had it; it was morbid, holding on to a future that was deader than dead. But I hold it in my lap, and run my hands over each piece of clothing. I imagine just for a moment what I could have had, they would’ve been 3 and I would’ve been a mum. My chest tightens, and I squeeze the items closer.

H’s POV:

By the time I get to Y/N’s, I’d stress-sang so many 90s hits that most of my nervous energy had streamed out the car window. I gather myself, clear my hoarse throat, and knock; ready to be beheaded. When there’s no answer, my nerves return. I knock louder, and try to peer through the frosty window.

“Harry?” Y/N opens the door in a flourish, looking fresh from a shower. I try to block the visuals that spring to mind, my mind blanking as I try to remember what I had to say. “Hello? Harry? Why are you here?”

“Uhm,” I shake my head. “Urgent business--the evidence I gave you on Monday, please tell me you still have it?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “You’re knocking on my door at nearly 7 for evidence you returned to me?”

“It’s urgent,” I look around out of habit. “Y/N, we may have accidentally given you something with the evidence we were meant to keep--please I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. I’m not messing with you, this is my head on the chopping block--I need to know if you have it.”

“For fuck’s sake Harry,” she opens the door wider. “Just...come in.”

“You have it?” I step in eagerly and close the door behind me, basking in the warmth inside. It was a chilly spring evening.

“I haven’t touched it since I brought it home, I threw it somewhere in my room.”

“Didn’t it...have your employees’ personal items in it?” I ask cautiously.

“It’s not like they’re eager to have reminders of that day!” she snaps and I back down. She turns in a flourish of her robes and walks upstairs. She doesn’t say anything so I follow her up, drinking in every detail I can about her new life as we pass through.

She’s headed into her bedroom when her phone buzzes. I recognize her sister from the contact photo that takes up the screen. She glances at me, and back at the phone, making a decision.

“It’s beside the dresser, don’t make a sound or my sister will come here in record time to rip your head off.”

“I take it she doesn’t like me,” I try to joke.

“She’s not the only Y/L/N sister that doesn’t like you,” she puts a finger to her mouth and takes the call into the other room.

Maybe I should stop cracking jokes with Y/N, I think. It was clear she still hadn’t forgiven me. I was surprised she still held on as vehemently all these years later.

I head into her bedroom, a tidy and plain room. Compared to what I’d seen of her main floor, her bedroom looked like it belonged in a hotel. I spot the box almost immediately resting between a laundry hamper and her dresser. I pick it up but on the way back, the box on her bed catches my attention. The lid is half on, and I know I shouldn’t but something almost possesses my hand to nudge the lid aside. I stare and what’s inside the box sends me reeling; like I was seasick, but with both feet firmly on the ground. The feeling punches me directly into a past I’d abandoned. A future I abandoned too.

When Y/N finds me a few minutes later, I’m holding the shoes from the box in my hands. She stops beside me. I look to her and her face is frozen in fear, before it shuts down into anger--no, fury.

“What the fuck are you doing going through that?” she snatches the shoes out of my hand and picks the box up.

“Y/N,” I say gently. “What...what is all this?”

“Did you find your stupid box? Just--” her eyes search the room frantically and settles on the evidence box on the bed. She picks it up and shoves it into my chest. “Take it and go Harry, I don’t want t-to talk. To you. Please just--” her voice breaks.

“Okay I’ll go I just...” my heart feels heavier than lead and I want to say the perfect thing to her but nothing comes out. When she shoves me I scuttle out. I hear the sob that escapes her as soon as I exit into the hallway, I almost turn to go back in and offer comfort. But I couldn’t comfort her, not since the day I gave up on her. I walk to my car, not even relieved to have the evidence. I don’t know how long I sit in the car and think about the contents of that box: folded in neat piles were baby onesies, bibs, and a pair of tiny shoes. Remnants from a broken past, a broken promise.

I wasn’t an idiot, and I wasn’t heartless despite what Y/N thought. I know what my selfish actions did to her, I know how I’d fucked her up without meaning to. But it’s only now that the weight of it settles entirely on my shoulders. How many years has it been, and that small box of new onesies stayed under her bed. Her room might’ve looked sterile and fresh but its corners held heavier burdens than I thought were possible. A new feeling of shame blooms from within me, and it stays like a bad aftertaste.

***Y/N POV:

I was going to read that letter, find my closure, and burn everything from my past ceremonially in a bonfire, I think as I watch the trees in my backyard rustle with the morning wind. It had been a few days but I couldn’t even focus on him finding that box, the humiliation of watching him look up at me with confusion and pity...it was enough he’d broken my heart, but now he felt sorry for me too. I focus back on the greenery while my fingers toy with the letter that’d come in the mail, a few years late.

The envelope looked worse for wear but it was still as sealed as the day Harry had written it. I hesitate, trace my fingers over my name on the front. A memory comes rushing to me, Harry in my dorm writing silly things on my post-its and sticking it in places I wouldn’t find until he’d left. Like under my covers, or inside my closet door. They would be silly like

Y/N smells like farts

or cheesy like

have a terrific day

. I usually tossed them, other I’d tucked between classroom textbooks. I wonder what happened to them.

Finally, I work up the courage to slide my finger under the seal and break it open. Two pages fall out, his distinct writing halfway between cursive and chicken scratch covers both pages. I read:

Y/N

You’re probably wondering why you’re reading this--I don’t think I deserve your consideration for even a moment let alone for enough time it will take for you to read this. Yet I want so badly for you to read this, to just know I didn’t mean for this to happen to us. And I know you think I’m the one who did it to us, but I need to explain.

You always told me I was good with my words, that maybe I was an artist in another life--a poet you liked to say. But every time I try to find the right words to say to you, English may as well not be my first language. I should have tried harder, should have found the right words for months but I kept putting it off until it was too late.

You are and will always be my best friend first, Y/N, I know I’ve broken your trust but I care about you deeply. I just wasn’t happy. And that had to do with the road we were going down together, not you. I’m deeply sorry for the words I said that day, for how I’ve made you feel these last few months. I guess, ultimately, I was being selfish. And I don’t have an excuse for that. I fucked this up but I wasn’t happy and I was taking it out on you, and on us. I used the things we couldn’t have as an excuse, but I’m not happy where I am in my life. And that’s something I need to find; I need to figure out what I really want.

I can only hope we’ll circle back to each other one day, in the future, when we’re in better places. But I don’t think we were right like this, maybe it’s bad timing, or maybe there’s a blanket over us much too heavy for us to find comfort under. I’m sorry for leaving us like this and for breaking your trust but I need to do this.

Know you’re perfect as you are, right now, there’s absolutely nothing about you I would ever change. I, on the other hand, have a lot of changing to do.

I wish you nothing but the best, you deserve the whole bloody world Y/N, but I don’t think I can give that to you. I hope one day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me. For now, know I love you and I’m truly sorry.

Harry, xx

My finger brushes over the last line, I take myself back to the Y/N and Harry four years ago--and it’s not so hard to do. I lived there more often than I’d like to admit. But I picture us, I picture Harry sitting down to write this. How might I have taken this if I read it all those years ago? I picture myself dissolving into tears--maybe my sister was right in not showing me.

I also imagine I would have known why, and maybe I wouldn’t be where I was right now if I’d had that closure.

But even all these years later, the tears stream down my face as if it were just yesterday Harry handed the letter over to my protective sister. There was so much hurt and heaviness, looking at it from the perspective I had now...I see a glimmer of truth in Harry’s letter. We’d worked wonderfully as best friends, and our intimacy was comforting. But we were also two people being pulled in two directions while clinging onto what we thought would keep us happy. It didn’t mean I forgave him for what he did, how he did it. But I finally understood why.

All this time, I asked why--I wondered if there was something I could’ve done to have fixed it before he left. I see now, he’d wanted an out the whole time. Nothing would have fixed us except time apart. I still felt like shit, but this epiphany made me feel closer to the closure I needed. The light on the horizon grows a little brighter. We’d just had bad timing.

***

I feel bright and chipper Monday morning; a sunny morning and a weekend of closure could do that to a woman. I bring along with me a box of treats; it had been a week since the horrible robbery. We’d put some precautions in since, had the therapist stay a few more days, a few of the employees decided to transfer and as sad as I was to see them go I knew it was the right thing for them to do to feel better. As for myself, I forgot about it most of the time. But it would creep in every so often and freeze me up.

I spoke to the company’s therapist once more after Monday, she’d asked about Harry and I had told her about the letter. She was intrigued but quickly changed the topic to how I was feeling after the events of last Thursday.

“Y/N?” Adam walks into the staff room as I finish the note to accompany the treats. “What’s all this?”

“Treats to cheer everyone up! Not that sweet fried dough is going to erase everyone’s PTSD...” I try to make a joke but Adam’s face is tense like it’d been since that day. “Adam I’m teasing...have you um, have you talked to someone one-on-one?”

“Me? Why?” He jumps. “I’m fine, I’m alright it’s mostly out of my head anyway.”

“Hm,” I look him up and down. “I don’t believe you but I’ll let it drop...for now.”

He fidgets with his hands, “Anyway I came in here to let you know the detective on the case called first thing about returning some evidence-”

“I can’t pick that up.” I say finitely. “Do you have room today? Maybe take an extended lunch and pick that up?”

“From the station?” he stutters.

“Is that where he said it was?”

“Uh yeah, yes. He wanted you to pick it up.”

“Well DCI Styles won’t get what he wants for once, you’ll pick it up at lunch okay? Just keep me posted.”

I go back to my office with a coffee and get a crack on with my work. I check for any updates on the client from last Thursday but I continue to receive the automated email that their office was closed for the week. It was weird, but I just make a note to follow up later on.

After lunch, Adam appears shaken, with the evidence. I instruct him to leave it in the staff room and send out an email, making sure to remind them that they didn’t have to go through it if they didn’t want to. I would keep it there until it was cleared out, even if that took the month. I think about my scarf in there, the one used to tie my hands. I wanted to burn it, never see it again. I send Adam a quick email to remove it from the box and dispose of it.

H’s POV:

“This just doesn’t make any sense,” I comb my fingers through my hair, as if it might trick my brain into seeing the pattern here. “This same group’s hit four places total, and yet Y/N...the HSBC was the first. There’s got to be a connection there, it’s here but I just can’t see it.”

“Harry,” Detective Cole puts her hand on my shoulder briefly before moving it away. “Maybe you need a break, I don’t think I’ve seen you go home the last few days and your shirt’s a bit...ripe. Maybe take the rest of the day off?”

I sniff myself, she was right. She shrugs with a I had to say it look.

She was right too that I hadn’t gone home. I did almost nothing but focus on this case, not only because it was growing bigger by the day and I had pressure from upstairs. But it was a welcome distraction to the new guilt that seemed to jam every other area of my life.

It was almost like I was reliving a timeline, going back three or so years ago. It felt like Y/N and I were freshly broken up, and I was trying to pick myself back up from it. Except that’s not the way it went all those years ago--I’d moved on, quickly then. But now, time was catching up. Or maybe it was karma.

“Earth to Harry?” Cole waves her hand in front of my face. “You really should go home.”

“Yep,” I scratch my stubble. I should shave too. “I’ll just drop by evidence before I go.”

She looks like she was going to say something but she gets up from the chair beside my desk, and walks back to her own. I sigh, sifting through the files on my desk to take home with me. My notepad underneath shifts and I spot Y/N’s familiar writing: Y/N was here. I run my finger over it and smile, remembering how she had written that on the baseboard of every flat or dorm room we’d left. And just like that, the guilt and shame take the memory’s place. How the fuck was I supposed get past this and focus, I think.

I shove my files into a bag and head out. Evidence tells me there wasn’t a lot on the sim card but they were still trying. I ask for an email if anything comes to light, and go home where I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

i meant to take a short nap, but I wake at 4am and my mind’s buzzing with so many thoughts that I have nothing else to do but get up, eat a mashup of breakfast and last night’s dinner. With nothing more to do, and 6am creeping up, I decide to get in my car and drive while the roads were somewhat clear.

Driving helped me think sometimes, on my worst case after my promotion, I’d gotten on the road one night and driven all the way to Leicaster. After a night’s rest in a hotel and the drive back home, I’d cracked the case. But this time, with my thoughts racing, I end up driving to Y/N neighbourhood on autopilot. Maybe because she was on my mind, the guilt a constant companion since that day.

I park on the other side of her street, and watch her front door from the rearview. I don’t know why I was there, it felt ridiculous and creepy. Yet, I couldn’t leave. Maybe I could offer her a ride to work, I think. But I know she would decline because she didn’t even come in herself to collect her evidence. She’d sent her awkward assistant instead.

Her door suddenly opens, and a strange man walks out. She leans on the doorframe and laughs at something he says. He leaves a kiss on her cheek and walks away. She shouts something after him and he turns, saying something back that gets her laughing. My heart races, seeing her face in the distance wrinkle with laughter. I remember all the times I could get her to do that, effortlessly. The guilt returns tenfold.

He adjusts his coat, turning back around and she watches him fondly for a few seconds longer before closing her door. I’m suddenly irritated, immediately suspicious of this bloke. I watch, unblinking, until he turns the corner out of sight. Who was he? Her boyfriend?

I look at the time on the dashboard, 7:08am. I sit, indecisive for another half an hour. My thoughts churn: the robberies, the motives, Y/N, the worn out box with baby clothes, her male guest who’d spent the night, the look on her face when she’d woken up after her concussion and saw me: disbelief, anger, and sadness.

I get out of the stuffy car and walk across the street where I hesitate outside her door. I knew I was crossing a line, pushing a boundary she put up by not picking up the evidence herself. She’d made it clear what she wanted, but I never denied that I was a selfish bastard. I raise my hand, and knock.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #detective!harry #dci!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #writingsfromhome #fic #au #harry styles x reader #oop this took a while to get out #but i'm so excited for pt3 #:)

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