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mochegato · 3 years

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Even the Losers

Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 4

“Not quite the child you expected to be on the front page today, was it?” Lucius commented, falling into step with Bruce as soon as he exited the elevator on their offices’ floor.

Bruce shot him a slight glare. He heavily suspected the receptionist at the front of letting Lucius know he was on his way up so he could stage this ambush. “No, no it was not,” he gritted out. He loved Lucius. He did. But he was not looking forward to discussing this with anyone right now. He needed to talk to Sabine and figure out his next steps. He didn’t have time for teasing or hurt feelings, unless they were Marinette’s or his other children’s.

“Don’t think she expected it either. She was quite distraught when the reporters found her this morning,” Lucius noted calmly.

Bruce stopped and glared full force at him. “Why were you with her this morning?”

Lucius raised an unamused eyebrow at him. “Early morning meeting with her and her friend, Max Kante, the one who actually invented the fabric Ms. Cole tried to take credit for.” He continued walking toward Bruce’s office, not caring whether he caught up or not. If he wanted to be an overbearing ass, they could have a meeting with that tone and Bruce definitely wouldn’t be the one to win.

“Sorry,” Bruce grumbled, catching up to him.

Lucius nodded to let him know he accepted the apology. “She takes after you, you know. I could see how upset she was with the reporters’ questions but she masked it expertly. Seemed to completely shut down those emotions. If I didn’t know you, I might not have known it was all an act. Shut the reporter down without admitting anything too, or lying. Quite smart, that daughter of yours.” Lucius turned toward Bruce as they passed through Bruce’s office doors. “Must get that from her mother,” he teased.

Bruce let out a long breath. “Without a doubt. How was she at the meeting?”

Lucius raised both eyebrows at that question, otherwise not reacting at all. “You haven’t spoken with her yet?”

Bruce focused on his desk as he sat behind it. “I haven’t had the opportunity yet,” he hedged.

Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly but answered the question. “She was brilliant. She is brilliant. She was calm and collected. Engaging and polite. Very insightful. You would never know she had been accosted and almost assaulted a few moments before. Completely professional.”

“What do you mean ‘almost assaulted’?” Bruce growled.

“Particularly aggressive reporter. I gave PR and security his name and picture. We’ll have a restraining order put out and he won’t be allowed at any Wayne events,” he answered calmly.

Bruce squeezed the arm rest on his chair until it fell off in his hand. He let out an annoyed growl and threw it in the garbage. He pushed the intercom on his desk phone, more aggressively than necessary. “I’m going to need a new chair, David.”

He slammed the button again before he had the chance to respond and let out a long deep breath to calm himself. “It’s already started. It hasn’t even been a day.” He shook his head and looked up at Lucius. “Can you see about getting a restraining order for her personally as well, please? And how was the meeting?” Bruce asked.

“It was successful. Mr. Kante seems extremely excited about our contract. He’s looking over it today, but I expect he’ll begin working for us as of next week. I’m still working on your daughter though,” he mused.

Bruce choked and looked back at him. “Excuse me!”

“To work for us,” Lucius tried to disguise the amused glint in his eyes, but not too hard. It was interesting seeing Bruce acting so disconcerted, and not pretending for an audience, actually feeling it. “She helped Mr. Kante develop the fabric and understands how best to show it off. She would be invaluable to have on the project. Hell, she’d be invaluable to have in the company.”

Bruce furrowed his brow in confusion. “I thought Mr. Kante developed the fabric.”

“He did. He definitely figured out how to make it work, but she was a significant help. Her insights and advice were key. She tried to deny it but he kept insisting. Without both of them, there wouldn’t be any fabric. Not to mention she’s the one that discovered Rabler and Cole were stealing ideas. She created the trap and presented the evidence.” Lucius couldn’t keep the proud tone out of his voice.

Bruce’s lips turned up in a wide, proud smile. “Yeah?” Lucius nodded with a proud smile of his own, albeit smaller than Bruce’s. Bruce just stopped himself from saying ‘that’s my girl’ because he wasn’t sure he got to make a statement like that. Not when he hadn’t been involved in bringing her up in any way. But it didn’t stop his chest from puffing up with pride at the knowledge.

She was smart. She was caring. She was creative. She was insightful and brilliant. She was healthy and unscarred. She was everything he hoped she would get to be growing up away from him. He must have done something right. But the idea of having her work next to him like Tim did, getting to see her every day… He smiled at the thought. “How successful do you think you were getting her to agree?”

Lucius hesitated. “Not very,” he admitted slowly. “I don't know the nature of your relationship…” He watched Bruce carefully as he spoke. “… but she seemed to respond positively when I stressed that I wanted her because of her skill, not because of any association with you.”

Bruce looked down and nodded. “There is no relationship. She didn't know.”

“So her being your daughter isn't the reason if you manipulated Candice into looking into her and offer her to the rest of us as a possible designer for the product like it was her own idea?” Lucius raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“I knew. She didn't,” Bruce admitted.

Lucius nodded in understanding. “Until when?”

“This morning, I imagine,” Bruce sighed.

Lucius raised an eyebrow at him, vividly recalling her behavior at the gala. The way she’d balked at meeting him in his office at WE. The way she’d frozen immediately upon seeing Bruce, all her fire and confidence falling instantaneously. The way she’d been almost begging for a way out from having to spend time with Bruce. “You think she didn’t know before the gala?”

Bruce scrunched his face in indignation. “No. Sabine would have told me if she’d told her.”

Lucius shook his head incredulously. “Alright.” If Bruce wanted to believe that, he wasn’t going to correct him. “So you were going to stay out of it and manipulate everything from behind the scenes? Only exposing your relationship when you felt comfortable with it?” Bruce looked down and nodded.

Lucius narrowed his eyes at him, his gaze suddenly sharp. He tossed the file in his hand onto Bruce’s desk. “I didn’t take you for a coward, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce sighed as he watched him walk out of the room. His gaze fell on the file Lucius had left behind on his desk, the file on DCD with Marinette’s picture on the front. He pulled the picture off of the file to look closer. He smiled as his mind flashed back to innocent baby eyes blinking back at him. Her eyes hadn’t changed in twenty years. Still the same bright, brilliant, hopeful eyes. His mother’s eyes. He could see it almost as soon as she was born. He could never allow those eyes to be hurt, could never bear to see them in pain, which is all his life seemed to be.

“Then you don’t really know me,” he mumbled as he put the picture back and turned away, his eyes landing on the phone. He took a deep breath and got ready for the conversation he had to have next. He picked up the phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration realizing he had memorized it not because he’d actually dialed it enough to have the muscle memory, but because he’d intentionally committed it to memory.

“That took longer than expected,” Sabine answered on the second ring, annoyance clear in her voice.

Bruce let out a deep sigh. He wasn’t expecting this call to go well, but he needed her help. “I was handling the rest of my family. They didn’t take to the news that they had a sister I never told them about too well.”

“Shocking,” Sabine deadpanned. “And how did Marinette take it?”

Bruce hesitated unsure of how to answer that. “You haven’t spoken with her yet.” The disappointment in her voice was almost palpable. Bruce could almost feel it slapping him across the face and pulling him down to her level.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he admitted more honestly than he had intended. “More than I have already. I don’t want to drive her away by saying the wrong thing,” he chuckled mirthlessly at himself again, “and we both know that’s absolutely something I would do. I need to know the best way to approach her. What do I need to do?”

Sabine sighed and Bruce could hear her shuffling around until letting out a lighter sigh like she was sitting down. “Well, everything’s going to be pretty raw for her. That’s the first thing. She hasn’t had time to process this. She needs to process in order to know how she wants to respond. If you approach her before she’d had time to process, she’s going to freak out on you or just shut down completely, cold, detached. Did I mention she sometimes takes after you, especially since Hawkmoth?

“But, she tends towards anxiety and overreaction spirals that she has to be brought out of. Her friends are there, so see if she wants them with her whenever you meet. They’ll know how to bring her out of it and calm her down. She might need a few more days before she can meet in person, but don’t wait until then to contact her.”

Bruce nodded, fighting the urge to take notes. That would be inappropriate right? To write down psychological insights into his own daughter? “Yeah, a few hours isn’t all that much time to process,” he agreed absentmindedly, still trying to figure out how many notes would be acceptable. He almost jumped in his seat when Sabine started cackling. He did accidentally ram his arm hard enough to bruise on the point sticking up from the remnants of the broken armrest.

He sputtered until she took pity on him. “You think she’s only known for an hour?”

Bruce paused and stared at the phone, trying to process her words. “You told her?” he was too shocked to be upset yet.

“No,” she answered quickly. “I don’t know how she found out but she knew before today.”

“You think she knew when she planned to come here,” he said incredulously.

“No, definitely not when she first planned it,” she corrected him.

“How can you be so certain?”

Sabine chuckled ruefully. “She's not like us Bruce. She can't lie to save her life. She's terrible at it. She wears her heart on her sleeve. If she knew she was going to see her biological father for the first time, without him expecting it, she would’ve been anxious, fidgety when she told me the plan to go to Gotham. She wasn't. This was all about Max.

“I have no idea what point between last Monday and today she figured it out. But, I can say that she's not answering my calls now. I expected her to call and laugh about it or get anxiety about it because she felt bad for causing you trouble. She didn’t. She asked Adrien to let us know she needs space. So she knew.”

Bruce let out a frustrated groan. “She's upset.”

Sabine took a beat before responding. “I'm not sure since I haven’t gotten to speak to her about it. But, knowing her I’d bet on confused rather than upset. Hurt. Betrayed. Can you blame her?” There was an extended pause while they both tried to process what they knew and how to respond.

After a minute of silence, Sabine spoke up a wry tone to her voice. “You know, she’s always been an extremely cheery child. Wouldn't know she was related to you at all when she was younger,” she laughed lightly, “well, people who bought into your socialite persona might, but nobody that knows you, really knows you and your brooding nature. She always tries to see the best in everyone and bring it out.

“She used to come into the bakery when we had customers and no matter what mood they were in, they would leave smiling. Even the ones in the worst mood would be laughing by the time they left. She just had that effect on people.

“But the one thing she could never stand, that drove her crazy, was a liar. She can’t stand lying and liars.” Her voice suddenly turned sharp and serious. “And she just found out, and not from us,” she emphasized, “that we lied to her about this her whole life and that you never wanted her around but did want other kids around.”

“That is absolutely not the case and you know it,” Bruce roared instantly.

Sabine made a few placating noises. “You know that. And I know that… on some level. But she doesn't.” She stressed. “I have no idea how you’re going to prove it to her now. Because all she sees is that you walked away when she was one and never turned back. Not until the media got involved and forced you to. And she doesn’t even know that much actually. Really all she knows is you walked away. That's what you're going to be up against; her thinking that she is a burden, a prop for you, that all your interest is feigned.”

“Inadequacy issues,” Bruce nodded. Memories of Damian’s first years in the manor flashed through his mind. He shuddered at the memory of Damian trying to kill Dick his first night and trying to kill Tim the first time he saw him, believing he was interfering with his birthright. “But not violent, right?” he asked cautiously. Because if she was anything like Damian, they were going to have to take some precautions, not that Sabine had given him any reason to suspect that. But then again, it would mean she wanted to be part of their family, so that was at least a starting point.

Sabine laughed. “Marinette violent? She’ll rip you to shreds if you touch one of her friends, but verbally. She couldn’t fight her way out of a paper bag.”

Her reassurance made Bruce frown more. That was good… kind of. He didn’t have to worry about her attacking the other kids, not that he was worried about that, really. Nothing he had ever heard about her or seen so far would indicate that was something he needed to be concerned about. But that also mean she had no way of protecting herself if she ever got kidnapped or caught in a rogue attack.

Maybe that was something Damian could help her with. He was an excellent fighter and it was something he greatly enjoyed. He felt at ease when he was practicing or sparring. Maybe that was a way they could bond, Damian sharing something important to him. Bruce immediately grimaced at the idea. There was no way Damian teaching someone with no fighting experience how to fight ended well for either of them. It was more likely to result in a frustrated Damian and a bloodied, bruised, and scared Marinette.

Dick! Dick could teach her, or Tim. Both also excellent fighters and both much more likely to go slowly, easing her into something her body had never been used to. Bruce nodded to himself. Dick would jump at the chance to work with her. And Tim, although less enthusiastic, would be more than willing to help make sure she could protect herself.

Bruce took a breath and focused back on the conversation at hand. “So… go slowly. Ask if she would be okay with meeting first. Give her time to adjust before the meeting. Try to figure out how to reassure her my interest in a relationship with her has nothing to do with the media.” He nodded with a grimace. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

He could hear Sabine’s reassuring smile through the phone. “As long as she’s had time to process, it should be okay. She’s helped friends go through the same thing. It shouldn’t be too hard once you get past the initial part.”

“Right. I can do this.” Bruce said, more to himself than Sabine.

“And Bruce?” Bruce was immediately tense from the edge in her seemingly sweet voice. “Protect our girl. This is a lot for her all at once.”

Bruce breathed out a relieved sigh. “I will.”

“Because if you don’t, not even Batman will be able to protect you.”

Bruce blinked a few times and opened his mouth only to snap it shut quickly, unsure if he even wanted to figure out if that was a veiled reference or not. After a few seconds he nodded resolutely, deciding it didn’t matter. “I understand.”

“Good day, Bruce,” Sabine said sweetly.

“Good night, Sabine,” Bruce answered with a smile, wondering just how much of her mother Marinette had replicated.

Chapter 6

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#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #mbdbwm2021 #prompt - memories

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httpxmattsun · 3 years

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𝙄.

𝙃𝙌 𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎: their s/o gets pregnant

𝙄𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨: Sakusa, Kuroo, Kenma

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst, fluff

𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙎/𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂(𝙨): this headcanon contains themes like abortion and adoption, if those two topics make you uncomfortable or trigger you in anyway, please refrain from reading.

･ﾟ:*Kiyoomi Sakusa

I’m going to be honest

I highly doubt this man wants children

not now at least

maybe in the future but he’s not even certain if it’s a possibility

both of you would be too busy to take care of a child

on top of you guys just starting you careers, none of you really even want a child

It be hard taking care of one when you’re both busy, but it be nearly impossible when neither of you have the desire to do so

so here you are, fighting tears as you look at Sakusas wide eyes

you’re terrified

and you’re terrified of Sakusas reaction

he’s shocked, to say the least

he wants to ask, wants to tell you that he isn’t ready, but he’s afraid of crossing a line that would damage your relationship forever.

after mustering up the courage, you speak up

“I don’t want it” You nervously say, played with your fingers and eyes avoiding his sharp gaze which held an emotion you couldn’t quite pin point. Was he angry? was he sad? Exited? You couldn’t tell. Mostly because you were too afraid to stare for longer than a second.

You were already decided the moment you found out. You knew what you had to do. But you did want Sakusas input on it, even if it was different from yours.

After a few moments of analyzing your words, he finally lets out the breath he’s been holding ever since you told him the news. Relief filling his system.

“I don’t either” he says truthfully, making your heart clench, the reality of the situation hitting you so unexpectedly. He looks away from you, somehow finding comfort in his intertwined fingers. His head was running wild.

You both new what this meant. But you wouldn’t dare vocalize it.

“Is it...” You exhaled sharply, eyes meeting his for the first time today. “Is it wrong for me to do it?” You asked, doubt consuming your brain, fear that this decisions could ruin both your lives, your mental health. You needed reassurance, you needed Kiyoomi.

“No baby, it’s not. If this is what you truly want then I’ll be by your side through it all, I’m not leaving you to do it alone” His throat tightens up, heart breaking as he watches your distraught form.

“We’re just not ready for a baby. Maybe in the future we will be.” He pulls you close, for once, not giving a damn about the fact that neither of you had showered. His only thought right now is comforting you. You need him right now. You both need each other.

It was a rushed decision, one without much planning. But as time passed, you learned that it was not a decision you came to regret.

･ﾟ:*Testsurō Kuroo･ﾟ:*

You’ve been trying for MONTHS

like, “sex all day, everyday” type beat

like y’all would deadass have schedules for sexy time

any of y’all could be in the middle of dinner with friends or family and as soon as your timers rang

Kuroo was like:

“Lolz brb gonna go stuff my wife’s womb with my cum”

but no matter what, you just couldn’t get pregnant

you ended up going to the hospital with Kuroo only to find out that you couldn’t get pregnant

the disappointment in both your faces were clear as day

yet Kuroo tried hiding his in order to comfort you

you needed him more than anyone right now

so imagine the shock and confusion you both had when almost a year later you missed your period

turns out you were pregnant ndjdjd

Kuroo stared in aw at the small, fragil human in your arms. Everything seemed to be a blur as he watched the love of his life give him an exhausted and lazy smile, pushing the blood covered and wailing baby toward him, urging him to take them in his arms.

He felt tears escape the corner of his eyes as he cradled the child in his arms, he just couldn’t believe that both of you made this living creature, couldn’t believe how you carried it inside of you for so long, even after doctors told you it was impossible. Couldn’t believe you gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl. It was a bittersweet moment, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Tears of your own escaped as you watched the small interaction. Happiness couldn’t describe the feeling in your chest as you watched lovingly what you thought you could never have in front of you, a family. You reached out a hand, which was immediately engulfed by Kuroo larger hand, his other arm cradling the baby. He scooted closer so that the three of you could be as close as possible. It really was a bittersweet moment.

Kuroo couldn’t contain his sobs anymore as he continued to mutter “thank yous” into your sweaty neck, your baby girl watching her father soundly in his arms. You tried to contain your own sobs as you held on to him tightly.

“What would you like to name your daughter” The nurse smiled fondly at the interaction between you.

Both of you gave each other a knowing look, love oozing out of both of you as you look back at the nurse.

“Sachiko. Her name will be Kuroo Sachiko”

Because she was indeed, your miracle

･ﾟ:*Kenma Kozume ･ﾟ:*

Just like Sakusa, I don’t really think he’d be to fond of children

especially not now

he wants to focus on his company

and you want to focus on your studies/career

and a child would make it difficult

he was by your side when you both found out

and the moment the third pregnancy test came out as positive

you felt like both your worlds fell apart

neither of you were opposed to having children

but the timing was just not right

your heart broke

not only for yourself but for the future baby that would soon grow inside you

So the both of you made some contacts and agreed on a decision

“You ready, love?” Kenma asked quietly, softly placing a hand on your shoulder as you stared at the large, beautiful house in front of you.

Snapping out of your dazed state, you look up at Kenma, giving him a smile.

“Of course” You knew how nervous he was, both of you were. You gripped his free hand, moving it toward your lips as you gave it a small peck. The small gesture was enough to calm both of your beating hearts down.

“We’re doing the right thing” You both thought to yourselves.

He gave you a small nod and a soft half smile as he got out of the car and opened the backseat. Staring at his sleeping newborn son.

“He’s beautiful”, Kenma thought before carefully unbuckling the car seat, a soft smile forming on the boys face as he watches the baby stretch his little arms, a soft yawn falling from his little mouth, still soundly asleep.

“He’ll love his new family” You wrap your arm around Kenmas. The both of you walking toward your baby’s new family. A trusted home were you knew your baby would grow in good and loving hands.

Kenma gave you a quick peck on the forehead before knocking on the door.

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chloebeale · 3 years

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i’m talking loud, not saying much

rating: G || words: 5.5k

bechloe week day two—bed sharing/one bed

read below or on ao3!

***

There is nothing—literally nothing—positive about this stupid new arrangement.

For the last few years, things have only seemed to go from bad to worse for Beca. First there was her deadbeat mother abandoning her, then her overzealous father ended up moving them from their quiet, comfortable hometown in favor of shacking up with Lady Tremaine—uh, Sheila, halfway across the damn country, and Beca’s life had effectively been thrown into a tailspin.

It is bad enough that she has to share a home with Sheila and her daughter, Juliet—unfortunately Beca’s age, unfortunately much taller, much prettier, much more popular than Beca—but to have to share a bedroom with her, too? God, that is...yeah, that is just the icing on this particularly terrible cake.

Now, she is expected to spend her free time with Juliet? When she really could’ve gotten their room to herself for the night?

Seriously, that is bordering on child abuse.

“I swear to God if you embarrass me…” Juliet mutters under her breath as they make their way up the winding path toward her friend’s obnoxiously large house, effectively breaking into Beca’s pity party of bitter thoughts. A long arm outstretches to drum a balled fist against the pristinely painted wood of the unfamiliar front door, and despite her sour mood over having to bring Beca along with her tonight, Juliet pushes a bright smile to her lips the second the sound of approaching footsteps begins to chime from the other side of the door.

Beca only rolls her eyes, thumbs looping through the straps of her backpack to hike it more comfortably into place.

Why she hadn’t protested more strongly before, she really does not know.

Beca usually loves Friday nights. Considering Juliet’s social status, she generally has Friday night plans, so Beca gets their shared room all to herself. It is just about the only time she ever has to unwind, in fact, but when her dad had made a big deal about how Beca needs to try to put herself out there and make some friends in Atlanta, and Sheila had suggested Juliet bring her along to Olivia’s sleepover tonight, no amount of groaning from either soon-to-be step-sister had been enough to shut their parents up.

“You’ll have so much fun, Bec! Sleepovers are great, you’ll really get to know all of the girls!” Her dad had stated much too enthusiastically while Beca had begrudgingly thrown items into her backpack.

“I hope you know I’m calling CPS later,” Beca had grumbled as she’d climbed without haste into the backseat of his car, earbuds quickly stuffed into her ears to drown out the sound of Juliet’s overly-peppy phone conversation radiating from the passenger seat.

That same pep—totally forced, Beca would argue; she has seen what a grumpy monster Juliet really is at home—returns effortlessly as the door swings open to reveal a beautiful brunette holding a bowl of what looks to be freshly popped popcorn in one hand and a brand new rose gold iPhone in the other.

“Jules!” Olivia greets pleasantly, though her expression falls slightly as her bright gaze shifts from Juliet’s dazzling smile and toward Beca’s tightened jaw. “Oh… You weren’t joking about bringing your sister.”

“Step-sister,” Beca grumbles quietly under her breath, gaze cast down toward her beat-up looking Vans. She can feel Juliet’s heated glare burning into the side of her head without even bothering to look up.

“Nope, not joking,” Juliet responds with a pop of the P, not-so-subtly shoving Beca out of the way to breeze into the house.

With a heavy sigh, Beca pushes away one last fleeting thought of turning and running away to sleep on the streets for the night, and forces herself to shuffle inside behind her.

“Guys, Jules is here!” Olivia announces as she leads the way through the entrance hallway and toward what Beca can only assume by the number of doors they pass is one of multiple living rooms. The other sleepover attendees erupt into a chorus of Juliet’s name, before Olivia continues, “And, uh…”

“Beca,” Juliet says through gritted teeth.

“Right, yeah,” Olivia nods, “her sister.”

Beca bites back the urge to correct her again—they are not sisters, they will never be sisters—and instead offers the room of expectant eyes a forced, tight-lipped smile, before she goes back to staring dutifully down toward her feet.

All anybody has to do is look around the room for half a second to see that Beca is entirely out of place among this particular group of people. They all sport full faces of makeup and wear their hair in neat, pretty styles, while Beca hides behind a layer of questionably thick eyeliner and limp tresses that have had nothing more than a comb pulled through them all day.

Unsurprisingly, none of the activities to commence now that they are all here—Juliet loves to be fashionably late—are of any interest whatsoever to Beca. She doesn’t care to call the boys they all think are sooo cute and promptly hang up when they answer, and when she refuses to pick dare on her second turn in Truth or Dare—she shrugged and said “pass” when asked if she’d ever ‘done anything with a boy’ after picking truth in the first round—they all seem to give up on halfheartedly trying to include her, so Beca shrugs and plugs her ears with her earbuds, and sits off to the side with her back to the couch, contentedly listening to music.

Beca can lose herself for hours in music. Among all of the huge, rapid changes in her life, especially in recent years, music has been her one constant. It is that one form of solace for Beca, so she doesn’t mind being left out, nor her presence being all but forgotten until she eventually has to answer nature’s call.

“Uh, where’s the bathroom,” Beca asks Juliet with a small tap on her shoulder, thumb sweeping over the pause button on her phone’s music player.

Clearly enraged to have been interrupted from her circle of friends, Juliet stares back at her with a face like thunder. “I don’t know. Go find it,” she scoffs, offering Beca nothing more than a shake of her head, before turning back to the talkative group.

Beca simply stares for a moment, before rolling her eyes hard enough that she can practically hear them rattling in her skull, then pushes herself lazily to her feet.

It is a big house—an obnoxiously big house, in fact—so it is probable that there is at least one bathroom on the ground floor, but Beca doesn’t feel like trying every door and potentially running into Olivia’s parents in one of the other living rooms, so she decides it is safer to check upstairs.

The first door she tries leads to an extravagantly decorated but empty bedroom, so Beca promptly steps back out and closes it behind her, before moving quickly onto the next. That one turns out to be another empty bedroom, too, so Beca hopes that it will be third time lucky, and meekly tries the next door.

This one is a bedroom, too, only this time, it is not quite empty, and Beca jumps slightly as she realizes she is intruding on someone’s personal space. “Oh, whoa. Sorry,” she says quickly, widened gaze landing on the sight of red curls and a nose buried deeply in a book.

“Hm?” The redhead questions, evidently too enthralled by her reading material to have even noticed Beca’s presence beforehand. Her eyes lift to land on the stranger in her room, though, and Beca finds herself slightly taken aback by just how intensely blue they are.

“Sorry,” Beca says again, her pale cheeks heating up with a splash of what she is positive is a very obvious shade of crimson. “I didn’t realize this was—I was looking for the bathroom.”

“Oh,” the other girl nods, neatly setting down her open book on the mattress before her. She offers Beca a friendly smile despite the intrusion. “That’s okay. The bathroom is two doors that way,” she says, pointing in the right direction.

Why Beca finds herself staring, she really does not know, but she catches herself after a short moment and quickly clears her throat. “Right, got it. Thanks.”

“Mhm,” the redhead smiles, bright eyes remaining on Beca. Beca is about to leave, though she notes the way the other girl seems to be studying her curiously, before piping up with, “Are you my sister’s friend? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“No,” Beca shakes her head, though realizes how bad that sounds and corrects herself quickly. “Uh, I mean, yeah. Or...I don’t know. My step-sister is friends with Olivia. She’s here for the sleepover, and my dad and her mom made her bring me.” As she speaks, Beca can hear just how ridiculously pathetic she sounds, and proceeds to mentally kick herself. “I guess I’m new to town or whatever.”

“Mm, that would explain why I haven’t seen you before,” the other girl nods, flattening her palms to the mattress to smoothly shift to her knees. “What’s your name? Or are you, like, peeing yourself and you have to leave right this second?”

“No,” Beca chuckles awkwardly, the bathroom almost forgotten about for a minute there. “No, it’s fine. I’m Beca,” she says. “My step-sister is friends with Olivia.”

“You said that already,” the redhead grins, to which Beca only mentally kicks herself again. “I’m Chloe, I’m actually Olivia’s step-sister, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Although she knows it is entirely possible for step-siblings to have healthy, good relationships, Beca can only assume judging from the scene before her that their situations may be somewhat similar. Chloe looks to be around their age, after all; surely she would be invited to the sleepover party going on in her home if she and Olivia were close, right?

“Mhm,” Chloe nods. “Which one is yours?”

Assuming Chloe is referring to which one is her step-sibling, Beca responds with an almost cautious, “Uh, Juliet Lyman.”

At that, Chloe immediately winces, and Beca cannot help the grin that breaks onto her lips in response.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says with an apologetic look. “That was super mean.”

“No, it’s okay,” Beca promises with another small chuckle, this one much less awkward sounding than the last. “She’s kind of a dick.”

While she still looks a little bashful, almost like she feels that she spoke—or winced—out of line, Chloe’s stiffened shoulders ease then, and she offers Beca a gentle nod of her head. “Mm, I guess that makes sense. None of Olivia’s friends are particularly nice.”

Like something of a vampire, Beca rarely enters a room without invitation, so it is almost surprising to her that she seems to shift slowly inside now, but Chloe doesn’t seem to be put off. If anything, she only sends Beca a friendlier smile, and nods as if to tell her it is okay.

“I guess you’re not having a ton of fun down there, huh?” Chloe says somewhat sympathetically, motioning toward the door for Beca to close it behind her.

“Uh, yeah, no, I guess you could say that,” Beca frowns, following Chloe’s silent instruction to close the door. Much too focused on the pretty redhead whose privacy she accidentally invaded, she hasn’t taken much time to really study the room, but her eyes do a quick visual sweep now, and she finds that, while still beautifully decorated much like the rest of the house, this particular bedroom feels much more comfortable, much more homey than anywhere else. So as not to seem like a total weirdo, however, she brings her gaze back toward Chloe, then drops it to the book flattened on the bed before her. “What are you reading?”

“It’s called Looking For Alaska,” Chloe explains with a brief motion toward the book. “It’s really good so far. I’m halfway through and I’m dying to see how it ends.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Beca nods. “Yeah. You should totally get back to that.”

“No,” Chloe shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t exactly enjoy being locked away in my room,” her nose wrinkles. “I actually kind of appreciate the company. There’s a bathroom right there, by the way,” she motions toward the adjoining ensuite, “if you still have to go.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

Chloe flashes her another kind smile while Beca shuffles by the bed and toward the bathroom door, then disappears inside.

Unlike Chloe, who apparently appreciates awkward new company, Beca is definitely more of a lone wolf. She prefers her own space, and will generally engage in as little social interaction as possible, but she finds that she does not feel completely uncomfortable with Chloe. In fact, after being ignored for the last hour in a room full of people, she would go so far as to say she is actually kind of glad she walked in here.

Upon returning from the ensuite facilities, Beca wonders where to go from here. She wonders if it is weird to try to stick around, if she should begrudgingly go back downstairs and rejoin the party, but she finds that Chloe has pushed her book aside, and pats the mattress to invite Beca to sit.

“Are you sure?” Beca questions, though she makes her way toward the bed regardless.

“Totes,” Chloe nods. “I told you, I like the company, and you’re not having any fun down there, so.”

“True,” Beca agrees, shuffling over to plop neatly onto the end of the bed.

“Do you go to Barden?” Chloe asks conversationally, head tilted slightly and eyes trained curiously on Beca’s face. Again, she seems to be studying her, and Beca doesn’t quite understand why she is not more weirded out.

Beca frowns in response, though eventually nods her head. “Yeah, I do. I don’t really like it, though. My old school was...well, it was still high school. I guess I was just more comfortable there or whatever, though.”

“I get that,” Chloe says with a somewhat sympathetic smile. “We moved here halfway through freshman year, and I was super sad to leave my old school. It’s hard trying to fit into a new place where everybody already knows each other, huh?”

“Yeah,” Beca nods, a hard sigh escaping through her flared nostrils. “Tell me about it.” She pauses then, this time eyeing Chloe curiously in return. “Wait, but you, like, made friends since then, right? I mean, how long have you been here?”

“Oh, yeah, tons,” Chloe says with a nod of her head. “Just not Olivia’s friends. I’ve been here almost two years now.”

“So you’re a junior?” Beca asks, to which Chloe nods again. “Me too. It’s kinda weird I haven’t seen you around.”

“It is,” Chloe agrees, bright gaze still comfortably studying Beca. Eye contact has always been a difficult thing for Beca, but she finds that it is somehow easy to hold Chloe’s. “I definitely haven’t seen you at school, though. I feel like I would’ve remembered you.”

“Yeah?” Beca questions with an awkward laugh and a lift of her brow. “I’m not the most memorable of people.”

“I would’ve remembered you,” Chloe repeats, her curious expression smoothing into something of a somewhat knowing smile, under which Beca feels her cheeks rapidly beginning to heat up again. Chloe lifts a hand to motion toward Beca’s earbuds, the wire of which hangs limply down her chest. “What are you listening to?”

“Uh, I think it was David Guetta,” Beca responds with a scrunch of her nose. “I don’t remember, I turned it off before I came up here. I have Titanium stuck in my head, though, so it was probably that.”

“Titanium is awesome,” Chloe says with an approving smile as she scoots back to rest against the headboard with the pillows stacked up behind her. “Can we listen together?”

“Oh,” Beca glances toward the space beside Chloe. “Uh, sure. If you want.”

“I do,” Chloe nods, patting the empty spot for Beca to join her.

Shuffling to sit beside her, Beca arranges the spare pillows to make a backrest, then offers one of the wired buds out to Chloe, who takes it with a gracious smile, before slotting it into her ear. Beca does the same with the other, before hitting play on her phone screen. She had the volume up pretty loud before, but makes sure to turn it down a few notches as Titanium begins spilling through the buds in the place she’d left it off before.

“This was my audition song for the Bellas,” Chloe hums fondly, shoulders relaxing as she eases back more comfortably into her stacked pillows.

“The what?” Beca questions with a curious side glance.

“The Barden Bellas. It’s our school’s a cappella group. That’s actually where I met most of my friends.”

“A cappella,” Beca echoes, lips pulling inward in a failed attempt to bite back an amused smile. “Like...synchronized nerd singing?”

“It’s not nerd singing,” Chloe giggles, lightly swatting at Beca’s arm. “It’s fun. And all of the girls are super nice. We’re like a little family.”

“Whatever you say, dude,” Beca chuckles, and finds that she has very comfortably slotted into this little space beside a person who was a total stranger to her only moments earlier. It is an odd feeling for her, but it is certainly not an unwelcome one. “So, you sing?”

“I do,” Chloe says proudly. “I love to sing. Do you?” Before Beca gets the chance to respond, Chloe sits a little further upright, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Oh, you should totes audition for the Bellas!”

“Whoa, slow down,” Beca warns with another amused chuckle. “I’m not nerd singing with anybody. Besides, I don’t even sing.”

“That’s a lie,” Chloe says, “everybody sings. Whether you sing well or not is another story, but everybody sings.”

“Yeah?” Beca lifts a brow. “Not me.”

“I bet you do,” Chloe counters, motioning toward Beca’s phone where the current track is winding down to its end. “I bet when you’re alone, you turn up the volume and you belt out this song to your empty bedroom.”

“Shut up,” Beca grumbles with a fond roll of her eyes and a hint of amusement lacing her grumbly tone.

While Chloe giggles quietly, she relaxes back into the pillows again. “You would love the Bellas. You’d make a ton of friends, and it’s super easy to sing when everybody else around you is doing it,” she says, reaching down to tap on the back-skip button on Beca’s screen, effectively restarting the song. “Sing with me. This can be your audition, and if you’re good, I’ll tell the others.”

“Dude, no,” Beca frowns, shaking her head as the beginning of the song starts to filter through her one earbud again.

“You interrupted my reading time,” Chloe states with a lifted brow and a smug smirk painting itself onto her lips. “The least you could do is sing with me.”

“Sing with you? Right now? That’s so weird. You’re so weird,” Beca says, her brow lifting the same way as Chloe’s. Despite her protests, she can feel her resolve softening already. Like Chloe whose last name Beca doesn’t even know apparently just has some kind of weird, calming spell on her. It helps that, despite saying she doesn’t sing, she actually very much does—and she is pretty freaking good at it, too.

“Just the chorus,” Chloe presses, pushing herself upright again and pointing animatedly toward her phone. “Look, it’s coming up. Just sing it with me.”

Beca scowls in response, so Chloe sends her a bright, encouraging smile, and when Beca does not outright protest again, Chloe excitedly nods her head.

Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, Beca’s jaw sets for a second, but she can feel herself preparing to start singing. She has a feeling Chloe knows she is going to, too.

“I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose…” Beca starts through gritted teeth along with the song, though she softens some at the way Chloe’s eyes instantly light up all over again.

“Fire away, fire away,” Chloe chimes in, and Beca finds that she has to pause for a second, because even with the actual song filtering into one ear, she can hear how good Chloe sounds in the other. In fact, she can hear how good they both sound as they begin to effortlessly harmonize.

As the chorus ends, they both come to a stop, too, and Beca had not realized before, but it turns out that their eyes were trained on one another’s the entire time. She doesn’t quite register it until her gaze falls to Chloe’s excited smile—the same way she doesn’t register her own smile, though once she does, she quickly wipes it away.

“I knew you were lying,” Chloe says triumphantly. “I knew you could sing. And you sounded so good, too. You have to audition for the Bellas.”

In true Beca Mitchell fashion, Beca’s cheeks have heated up, though she hopes her frown will distract from the redness in her face. “What? Dude, I thought you said that was my audition.”

“So you want to join?” Chloe asks hopefully, to which Beca immediately pauses.

“I didn’t say that,” she eventually says, arms folding tightly across her middle.

“Well, I’m gonna tell the girls how good you are, and Aubrey—she’s our captain—will be on your case until you agree to join, so.”

“You’re so annoying,” Beca chuckles, sinking back against the pillows. “You’re really persistent, huh?”

“When I want something,” Chloe shrugs, trailing off to hum along quietly with the song.

“Yeah?” Beca lifts a brow. “And what do you want?”

“You,” Chloe says casually, and Beca’s mouth opens when that seems to be the end of Chloe’s response, though she pipes up again then, “to join the Bellas.”

“I—” Beca falters, and registers the way her heart rate has for some unknown reason increased slightly. She tells herself it is simply due to the impromptu duet—she may sing when she is alone, but she never does it in front of anybody, and certainly never with anybody—though she has an odd inkling that that is not solely the case. “I’ll think about it,” she grumbles, turning her focus to her phone screen.

Chloe grins brightly at that, clearly very pleased with herself. “Awes.”

For the next little while, they remain in their comfortable position side by side with their backs against the pillows, listening to Beca’s playlist and casually conversing. Much like she had found Chloe easy to be around right away, Beca finds that that same feeling only continues. In fact, it almost intensifies—it is not often that Beca Mitchell finds herself this comfortable with a new person, but she really is strangely comfortable with Chloe.

In fact, Beca doesn’t even realize how much time has passed until her phone screen lights up with a new text message notification, and she glances down with a frown when she sees who it is from.

Juliet where are you? i swear if you went home and told your dad we were leaving you out or whatever i’ll deny it and all of the girls will back me up

In response, Beca sucks in a deep sigh through her nostrils. “She’s so annoying,” she mutters, gaze flickering toward the much later time. She knows that she should probably leave, that she should go rejoin the party at which she was having absolutely no fun, but the thought of doing so is draining, and Beca sinks even further back into the pillows behind her. “God, I don’t wanna go back down there.”

“So don’t,” Chloe shrugs, glancing toward the open text message on Beca’s cracked phone screen.

“It’s, like, almost twelve,” Beca frowns, using one finger to lazily type out hanging with olivia’s step-sister in the chat bar. “You’re gonna wanna sleep, and I probably should, too.”

“You can sleep in here,” Chloe hums, stretching out her legs and wiggling her toes beneath her socks. The cartoon corgis adorning the fabric are pretty freaking adorable, though Beca totally won’t say so.

Instead, her brow crawls a little higher in response. “What, like in your bed?”

“You think I’m gonna make you sleep on the floor?” Chloe counters with a look of fond amusement.

“Uh, no,” Beca shakes her head. “Yeah, I guess that’s—dude, isn’t that weird?”

“You’re at a sleepover with a bunch of people you don’t even like, you were gonna be sharing a bed with at least one or two of them,” Chloe shrugs, then gently shakes her head. “It’s not weird, you can sleep in here.”

“Uh,” Beca pauses, thinking it over for a second. “Are you sure?”

“Totes,” Chloe nods, eyeing Beca for a moment. Her lips twist into something of an amused grin when she clearly notes her apprehension. “What, do you think I’m gonna try to make a move on you or something?”

Beca’s instant reaction is not the one she expects. She expects to splutter and for her tired eyes to shoot further open, but instead she only stares at Chloe with an arched brow. “I don’t know, are you?”

“What if I did?”

At that, Beca’s mouth hangs open slightly, the same way it had earlier. In response, Chloe only giggles brightly again, and Beca registers that there is something almost melodic about the sound. “I’m kidding,” she promises, amusement lacing her tone as she removes the earbud and begins to push herself up from the mattress. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Go grab your stuff and come back up here.”

Although Beca’s shoulders sag with something akin to relief, she doesn’t quite understand why a wave of disappointment washes over her, too. Does she want Chloe to make a move?

Does Chloe want to?

What even is a move, exactly?

Either way, Beca attempts a nonchalant shrug as she rises from the bed, a feeling of slight dread coursing through her at the idea of having to go back downstairs, even if only to grab her things.

It turns out, however, that the worry is needless, because nobody even entertains her with so much as a glance as she enters the large living room in pursuit of her belongings. Well, nobody but Juliet, and even then it is only for her to shoot Beca a quick glare before she goes back to talking to her friends.

Deciding that it might be a little weird to change for bed in Chloe’s room, Beca makes her way back up the stairs and toward the bathroom she hadn’t gotten to before. She momentarily holds her breath as she opens the door, worried about the idea of bumping into another peppy stranger, but it turns out to be the correct room, and Beca changes and washes up quickly, before making her way back to Chloe.

“Oh, whoa—” Beca’s response is much the same as last time, except this time she lifts a hand to quickly cover her eyes, the crimson color in her cheeks rising toward the tips of her ears.

“What?” Chloe questions, evidently entirely unperturbed despite Beca walking in on her in the process of pulling on her pajama top—under which she is not wearing a bra. “Oh… They’re just boobs.”

Beca practically chokes at that, blindly making her way into the room and shoving the door closed behind her. “Dude, I don’t need to see them.”

Chloe’s amused giggle rings through the air. “Sorry. In my defense, this is my room, and I figured you’d knock before you came in,” she says, taking a second or two to adjust her pajamas, before Beca hears her gliding toward the bed. “It’s safe for you to uncover your eyes.”

That considered, perhaps sharing a bed with Chloe for the night is not the most awkward thing anymore, so although cautiously, she lowers her hand from her face, lips pulled inward as she makes her way toward the bed. “I’m guessing that’s your side?” she asks, motioning toward the spot Chloe had taken before.

“Yep,” Chloe nods, peeling back the comforter to slip beneath it. “Sometimes I curl up in a ball in the middle, but I always at least start out on this side.”

Why the mental image is so cute to Beca, she opts not to question, and instead simply slides into the other side. “Cool. My bed’s a single, so I guess I don’t really have a side.”

“Single beds are super cozy,” Chloe hums, reaching behind herself to flatten the previously propped up pillows, before shuffling to make herself comfortable.

“They suck,” Beca frowns. “I’m actually kinda jealous of you with this. Your room is, like, bigger than my dad’s house, in fact.”

“Your dad’s house?” Chloe echoes, twisting onto her side once Beca has laid herself down, too. “It’s not your house?”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Beca shrugs, automatically twisting her body to face Chloe.

In response, Chloe sends her a somewhat sympathetic smile, so Beca only shrugs once more. “How long have you been there?”

“Too long,” Beca grumbles, sticking one arm out of the comforter to rest her palm against the pillow by her head. Her cheek rests against the back of her hand, and Beca notes that she only feels more and more comfortable with Chloe by the second—and not just because of the ridiculously comfortable mattress. “About four months now.”

Chloe seems to consider for a moment, before eventually nodding her head. “You’ll start to feel better about it soon,” she promises in a softer voice, her hand reaching out to settle delicately over Beca’s for a short moment, before sliding it away.

It is interesting, the fact that her father has told her the same thing a million times, but that each time, Beca has only scoffed in response. For some reason, though, when it is Chloe telling her, Beca cannot help but believe her, and responds with a soft sigh, followed by a small smile of her own.

“I’m gonna turn out the light,” Chloe says, before commanding Alexa to do just that. Soon, the light in the previously bright room grows dimmer, until they are engulfed in a blanket of darkness—seriously, what a relief; Juliet makes them sleep with a night lamp on every night.

Considering it is still difficult, after four months of living there, for Beca to fall asleep in her bedroom, she expects it to be the same here. It is still something she considers unfamiliar territory, so Chloe’s room should be even more so, but as the room around her grows still, she finds that her eyes begin to grow quickly heavy. The soft sound of Chloe’s quiet breathing seems to help somehow, too.

“Beca,” she hears after a moment of silence, Chloe’s voice much softer than it was before.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for walking in here tonight,” Chloe continues, and soon Beca feels a hand laying across her own once more. Her natural instinct would normally be to pull away, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t understand why, she just...doesn't. “I really do appreciate the company.”

“Yeah?” Beca chuckles quietly, her own voice growing quieter with those telltale signs of tiredness. “It’s cool. I liked it, too.”

“Mm,” Chloe hums, the tips of her fingers stroking feather lightly over the back of Beca’s hand. Again, Beca does not pull away. In fact, she actually kind of likes it. “I really hope you do join the Bellas. I kind of wanna keep you around.”

Although she is positive Chloe just wants someone to add to their singing group, something about the statement causes Beca’s heart to flutter slightly. Honestly, she is just not used to someone actually wanting her around—it is not like Juliet does, and she is pretty sure Sheila doesn’t, either—but it is particularly nice to her that Chloe wants her around specifically.

“Ditto,” she mumbles, her thumb instinctively rising to brush softly over the side of Chloe’s pinky finger.

There is a stillness to follow, a calmness that Beca is not altogether used to, but again, it is something she welcomes. Something she has been yearning for for months now, in fact. No, years.

Although she feels sleep beginning to instantly overtake her, and she really doesn’t want to break the comfortable silence, a nagging voice in Beca’s head instructs her to do so. The kind that causes her heart to race again, and Beca licks over her now dry lips as she wonders if she will actually do it or not.

“Chloe,” she murmurs quietly, a part of her hoping Chloe is one of those people who can fall asleep pretty much as soon as their head hits the pillow—but a stronger part of her hoping not. Either way, she continues in a quiet voice, “If you did wanna make a move, you can.”

There is another silence to follow, a short stretch in which Beca’s heart thunders and she wonders if perhaps Chloe is already out, before she feels soft fingers slotting through the gaps in her own, then registers her sleepy, whispered response,

“I just did.”

#beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe #bechloe fic #bechloe week 2021 #bechloe week #i'm talking loud not saying much #mine #mine:writing

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4stars-uswnt · 3 years

Text

A Shoulder to Lean On [Preath x Daughter!Reader]

requested by anon: More preath with daughter!reader? Something a little angsty where the reader came from a toxic home and can’t communicate her feelings very well with them and they’re worried about her a lot. And she finally feels safe enough to tell them she’s not been doing well mentally and they comfort her.

A/N: hope everyone had a happy holidays and a happy new year!! after a much much needed break, here’s some writing! lol it’s pretty long but i hope y’all enjoy it :)

warnings: mention and brief description of abuse, mention of bullying, slight swearing

“You ready, kiddo?” Tobin asks, as she rolls her suitcase to the front door of the apartment.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “I still don’t see why I have to go with you guys. I’m old enough to stay at home alone, and I’ve done it before.”

“You know why.” Christen gives you a stern glare, reminding you of the exact reason, as you roll your eyes.

A couple days ago, you had gotten into a fight at school. One of the guys in your class had been picking on you, calling you names, hitting you, and asking why your moms would adopt anyone like you, not that you’d told Tobin or Christen any of this.

Ever since you had been adopted about two years ago, when you were 15, you hadn’t been the best at openly communicating with your moms, especially about your feelings. Your previous home life wasn’t the best, as your biological parents would verbally, and sometimes even, physically abuse you.

After going through that whole ordeal and then jumping around in foster care, you weren’t used to expressing your emotions nor were you used to having people, like Tobin and Christen, who actually cared for you.

So when the two soccer players took you in and adopted you, it was certainly an adjustment for you. You found yourself often bottling everything up and then lashing out, usually taking form in a yelling match between you and your moms.

Both Tobin and Christen, but particularly the curly-haired forward, were worried about you. They knew you hadn’t ever actually had the chance to process the traumatic events of your childhood, and your coping mechanism of keeping it all to yourself was not healthy. However, every time they tried to talk to you, you would brush them off.

Though, their worried had been heightened a couple of days ago, when they’d found out you’d resorted to physical violence, punching a boy in the face. But they couldn’t let your actions go unpunished, hence why you were traveling with them to Cincinnati for the USWNT’s SheBelieves Cup training camp and matches.

“Whatever,” you mutter under your breath.

“Come on, this is hardly a punishment.” Christen squeezes your shoulder, decidedly ignoring your comment, and picks up her bag, motioning for you to do the same. “In fact, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.”

“I doubt it.” You grab your duffel, as the three of you make your way downstairs.

“Emily and Lindsey will be there,” Tobin offers, knowing that might cheer you up. Living in Portland, you spent a lot of time with the two blonde women and formed a sisterly relationship with them.

You shrug, trying to hide the excitement bubbling within you.

“Come on you two,” Christen calls over her shoulder, as she packs the suitcases into the trunk of the Uber.

“Just try and tone down the attitude, for your mom’s sake, okay kiddo?” Tobin suggests, patting your shoulder. You roll your eyes but nod in agreement.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you huff quietly to yourself, sliding into the backseat, as the three of you make your way to the airport.

——————

As you walk into the lobby of the hotel, trailing behind your moms, you hear someone call your name.

“(Y/N)!” Emily runs across the room and hops on your bag, Lindsey following close behind.

You wince, as the two older women crash into you and squish your body.

“You’re here at camp!” Lindsey claps your shoulder. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I’m gonna head up to my room.”

You give them a small smile, wiggling out of their hold, and approach your moms.

“Could I have a key to the room please?”

“Here you go.” Christen pulls out the card from her coat pocket, placing it in your hand. “We’re having team dinner at 6, so be down by then.”

You nod and head down the hall to the elevators.

—————

A couple hours later, after you’d unpacked, showered, and scrolled through your phone, you walked into the large conference room, where the team dinner was set up.

Knowing the routine by now, you grabbed a plate and began to serve yourself some food. Scanning the room, you decide to take a seat next to Sonny and across from Lindsey, your moms only a few seats down.

As you begin to take a bite of salad, you feel Emily nudge your elbow. “So was what you did so bad that your parents had to force you to come to camp?” The defender shovels a mouth full of food, looking at you expectantly.

You furrow your brow. “Huh?”

“Well,” Lindsey chimes in. “You rarely ever come to national camp anymore, and when you do it’s usually a punishment of some sort because you look miserable.”

“Fair.” You nod, taking another bite.

“Well, you gonna spill the beans?” Mal asks, joining the conversation.

“Just stuff at school.” You shrug, as the youngsters around you exchange glances.

“What happened at school?” Rose raises her eyebrows.

“Nothing,” you mumble, ducking you head. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Ignoring you, Sonnett keeps pushing. “Did you not do your homework? Get a bad grade on a test? Ooooo did you get into a fight?” The defender leans forward on the edge of her seat, poking your arm, as the rest of the younger players pause their meal, eagerly awaiting your answer.

You feel yourself getting increasingly agitated, and you clench your hand around your fork.

“Emily!” Tobin calls out from across the table. “Stop being so nosy and cut it—”

“I said I didn’t wanna talk about it!” You yell, as you slam your fist down onto the table, causing the plates and silverware to clatter. The entire room goes silent, everybody turning to look at you to see what’ll happen next.

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) Press-Heath!” Christen scolds, giving you a glare, nodding her head to the door. “Outside, now.”

You drop your utensils and push your chair away from the table, following your mom out of the room.

Once the two of you are alone out in the hallway, the silence becomes unbearable. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed, you hang your head and avoid eye contact with Christen.

“(Y/N), what happened in there?” Anger evident was evident in the forward’s voice, but she remained calm.

You shrug your shoulders, putting your hands in your hoodie pocket.

Frustrated by your behavior, Christen sighs, “That behavior is absolutely unacceptable, and you know that, (Y/N/N). You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, mom,” you murmur, intensely staring at the plain pattern on the hotel carpet.

“Look at me, honey.” Christen gently lifts your chin with her finger, her eyes softening. “Talk to me.”

You lock eyes with your mom and feel guilt pulling at your heart. You knew that your parents wanted what was best for you and that they actually cared for you, unlike your biological ones, but after what you’d been through, you couldn’t bring yourself to open up very easily.

“I’m just tired,” you easily lie, your eyes fleeting from Christen’s green orbs.

“Okay,” your mom sighs in defeat. “Well in that case, go upstairs and get some rest.”

You give her a small smile and turn to make your way towards the elevators. Before you could get too far, Christen calls after you, “And don’t come back down until you’ve lost the attitude!”

Looking back at her, you throw up a thumbs up, before pushing the up button. After a quick elevator ride up to the third floor, you unlock the hotel room you shared with your moms. Glancing over at your backpack leaning against the desk, you know you should probably start your homework and study for your biology test, but the bed calls to you, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep under the covers, sleep taking over.

—————

The next morning, you wake up in a bed all by yourself. Looking over at the opposite bed, you notice it’s empty, your moms already up. You glance at the clock. 8:17 am. Rolling over to grab your phone of the nightstand, you check your text messages and see one from the group chat with your moms.

Ma 🤙:

Morning kiddo. Breakfast starts at 8 but we didn’t wanna wake you. Hope you slept well. Please be down before 9. Love u

You simply give the text a thumbs up, before sliding out of bed and making your way to the bathroom for a shower.

Once the water is to the temperature of your liking, you step under the hot water, steam filling the bathroom. You were honestly grateful your moms had already gone down to breakfast, as it left you alone to shower in peace.

When you were back at your old home, the shower was the only place you could escape. You would use it as a place of refuge, where the water would drown out all the noise of your parents’ yelling and screaming, numb the pain of your cuts and bruises, and leave you to empty your mind.

Closing your eyes, you let the water hit your face and drip down your body. You try to feel every single drop when it hits and as it falls, grounding yourself in the present.

After a few minutes, you pull your head out from under the water, wipe your eyes, and get on with cleaning yourself.

Once you’ve finished showering and getting dressed, you make your way down to breakfast. You grab a banana and a yogurt before sitting down across from your moms.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Christen coos. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” you respond, as you peel your banana.

“You feeling better?” Tobin subtly asks, raising her eyebrow at you.

You nod, your mouth too full to voice a response.

The two women exchange a worried glance, causing you to roll your eyes. “Moms, I’m fine.”

“Alright, kiddo,” Tobin sighs. “Just know if you ever need to talk about anything, we’re here for you.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, giving her a small smile.

“Well,” Christen starts, as she begins to clear her plate. “We have to leave for training in about ten minutes, so you either have two options: you can either come to the field with us and watch training or you can stay at the hotel and do your homework and study for that test coming up.”

You grimace at your options, not really like either of them. Before you can formulate your decision, your mom interjects, “And yes, you would actually have to do homework. Phil agreed to stay back with you of that’s what you choose.”

“Like a babysitter?” You scoff.

“No,” Christen calmly states. “Just someone to make sure you’re actually doing your work. And Phil does have an MD, so he’d probably be able to help you with your biology.”

“I think I’d rather come watch your training,” you decide, wanting to see your moms play, also having some interest in the sport of soccer.

“Awesome!” Tobin grins at you. The forward had been trying to warm you up to the idea of playing soccer, obviously not pushing anything onto you, but she couldn’t be faulted for trying.

“Okay.” Christen nods, putting a hand on her girlfriend’s arm to calm her down. “That means you will have to study and finish your work later.” She gives you a stern look, daring you to protest.

You nod, taking one last bite of your strawberry yogurt and putting the banana peel in the plastic cup.

“Okie dokie. It’s time to go. Let’s get moving.” Tobin slaps the table, getting up from her seat.

After quickly cleaning up breakfast, you follow your moms, along with the rest of the team, onto the bus. Looking down the aisle, you try to find an open seat, knowing your moms sit together.

“(Y/N)!” Emily shouts, waving to you from the back of the bus. “Come sit with us.”

You make your way towards where all the youngsters sat and see that Emily and Lindsey have squished together, making room for you on the aisle seat.

As you plop down, Sonnett rests her hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N), I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have been so nosy. It won’t happen again.”

“Thanks, Em.” You nod, a small smile on your face. “And I’m sorry for snapping and yelling like I did.”

“It’s no problem, (Y/N/N).” Emily grins, ruffling your hair, as she goes back to being her goofy self.

For the rest of the bus ride, you watch and listen to the youngsters antics, ranging from Sam’s terrible puns to Mal’s mediocre rapping. To your surprise, you find yourself having a decent time, glad to be spending time with people somewhat close to your age.

—————

After getting off the bus and arriving to the field, the team slips on their gear and starts warming up. You find a seat on the bench, bundling up in your mom’s puffy jacket.

About an hour and a half later, Vlatko blows his whistle, signaling the official end of practice, but a bunch of the players remain on the field, either getting in some last minute shots or playing a fun game of 1v1 or 2v2.

“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” Lindsey yells from across the field, where her Emily and Mal are playing keep away. “Come join us.”

You glance over to your moms, silently asking for approval, to which they both give you a thumbs up and large grins, encouraging you to go play.

Getting up from the bench, you jog over to the group of younger players.

“So it’s gonna be me and you versus Sonny and Mal. Sound good?” The blonde midfielder asks you, passing the ball to your feet.

All you can do is nod, before Emily is quickly pressuring you, almost stealing the ball. Trying to remember a move you’ve seen Tobin do a million times before, you roll the ball out in front of you, baiting the blonde defender, and then quickly slip it through Sonnett’s legs, passing it to Lindsey.

“Wooooo!” Tobin cheers from behind you. “Nice move, kiddo!”

“You taught her well, babe,” Christen gushes to her girlfriend, bumping their shoulders.

For a second, all Emily can do is stand in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just megged me, (Y/N/N). How could you do that to me?” She gasps, feigning offense, as she puts her hand on her chest.

Rolling your eyes, you playfully shove the older woman. “Don’t be so dramatic, Sonny.”

As the four of you continue your game of keep away, you can’t help but love the way the ball feels at your feet and the way you have complete control over it. The control and freedom of the game feels nice, practically foreign.

Lindsey makes a pass to you, splitting the two defenders. Once you receive the ball, Emily is, once again, quickly on your back, but this time, as you hold the ball away from her, shielding it with your body, she can’t control her momentum and crashes into you.

You fall to the ground with a huff, feeling the wind knocked out of you, as you’re not really used to the physicality of soccer. Rolling over so you can sit up, you grimace. “Ouch.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/N/N),” Emily chuckles, as she moves to stand over you, holding out her arm to help you up. “That tackle wasn’t that hard, probably didn’t even hurt at all. Don’t be such a baby.”

The words ring in your head, triggering old memories of the man who called himself your father. ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ he’d say whenever you whined about something, even though that was to be expected of a five year old. ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ he’d say as he slapped or kicked you. ‘Don’t be such a baby,” he’d say when you told him about the bullies at school. ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ he’d say, and so you didn’t, at least you tried.

As you ground yourself back in the present moment, you to catch your breath, as you gasp for air. The rage ultimately consumes you, as your blinded by the pent up anger and resentment you held towards your father.

You abruptly push yourself up off the ground and get in Emily’s face. “Don’t talk to me like that!” You grit between your teeth.

“Woah, (Y/N).” Emily backs away from you, holding her hands up in innocence. “Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You yell, pushing the other woman’s shoulders, causing her to stumble backwards.

“Alright, (Y/N/N).” Lindsey quickly moves in between the two of you. “You’re okay.” She tries to calm you down, but to no avail.

Tobin and Christen, hearing the commotion and your yelling, run over to you and gently but firmly grab you, pulling you away from the blonde defender.

“Come on, (Y/N),” Christen scolds. “We’re going back to the hotel. Now.”

The three of you make your way towards one of the team vans, your moms deciding it would be better than to ride back on the bus with the rest of the team.

During the ride back to the hotel, a tense silence hung in the air. You still hadn’t cooled off, your fists clenched and your knees bouncing. Though your mom was upset by your behavior, she couldn’t help but worry, stealing glances at you in the rear view mirror.

The elevator ride is much more of the same, no one daring to speak until you’re in the privacy of the hotel room. Even as you enter the room and take a seat on your bed across from your parents, you’re still silent, waiting for your moms to yell at you.

Tobin waits, her eyes darting between her daughter and her girlfriend, as she knows Christen is usually the disciplinary out of the two of them. Christen, herself, is choosing her words wisely, not wanting her frustration to boil over.

“(Y/N),” your mom begins her scolding. “That behavior is absolutely unacceptable! It’s one thing to be getting into fights at school, but here, at our workplace and with our teammates, that won’t be tolerated.”

You hang your head, as you fidget with your fingers, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetie,” Christen gently directs. Lifting your head, you meet the looks of both your moms, and you can’t stop the guilt from bubbling in your chest.

“I’m sorry, moms,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, or disappoint you.”

“Thank you for your apology.” Your moms move to seat on either side of you.

“We forgive you, kiddo.” Tobin says, taking your hand in hers. “But we’re worried about you. And until you talk to us and tell us what’s going on, we can’t help you and that’s all we want to do.”

You slightly shake your head in disbelief. “Why?”

“What?” Your ma furrows her brows, confused.

“Why do you wanna help me?” You say a little louder, getting frustrated by the thoughts in your own head. After having to fend for yourself for so long, the thought of depending on others was still difficult for you to accept.

“Because we care, (Y/N). We love you,” Christen cries, as her voice cracks, and she rubs your back soothingly.

“Well I don’t need your help!” You exclaim angrily, shaking off your moms hands, as you stand up from the bed to turn to face them.

At your outburst, Christen’s heart breaks with the weight of defeat. Taking a deep breath, trying to compose herself, her face hardens.

“Watch your tone when you speak to us,” your mom sternly states, her eyes telling you that she’s not messing around. “You’re going to stay in this room and finish your homework and study for your test. No TV, no phone, nothing but your school work. Got it?”

You nod, gulping down the knot in your throat, as tears burn your eyes.

“Hand over the phone, kiddo.” Tobin holds her hand out and gives you a sympathetic smile.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out your phone and and place it into your moms open hand.

“We’ll leave you to it.” Christen moves closer to you, before kissing your forehead. “We love you, (Y/N/N), and that’s why we’re doing this.”

All you can do is watch as your moms exit the room, Tobin grabbing the television remotes on her way out. Sighing, you plop down on the bed and run your hand through your hair.

For a second, you contemplate just taking a nap and not doing any of your work, but you knew if you did that, your moms would be even more upset, and you did’t want to test that.

So, you unwillingly sit down at the desk and pull out your laptop and notebooks, starting with your history homework.

—————

After about two hours, you’d completed all your homework and started reviewing for your biology test. It wasn’t that school was hard or that you had trouble understanding the material, it was just that you did’t like doing the monotonous work. You never really saw the point in doing homework if you already understood the concepts.

You check the clock and notice it’s 6 o’clock, almost dinner time. Sitting up straight, you stretch arch forward, stretching your back and lifting your arms.

You wonder what your moms wanted you to do for dinner, but seeing as you had no way to contact them, you decide just to quickly grab something from the team’s buffet and pray they don’t see you. However, you have a feeling they wouldn’t be too upset at you for not staying in the room if you were getting food, but you knew you’d pushed the envelope earlier, so you honestly didn’t know what to expect.

Quietly closing the door behind you, you quickly make your way down the hall towards the elevator. Just as you’re about to turn the corner, you hear your mom’s voice.

“I just don’t know what to do. I mean she’s never really opened up to us that much, but she’s never resorted to violence.”

Immediately you press yourself against the wall, hiding yourself but also so you can hear what they’re gonna say.

“Well, I don’t know if you can keep bringing her to camp anymore, especially if she’s gonna act like that.” You hear Megan’s voice echo in the hallway, and you feel a pit form in your stomach.

“Hey,” Tobin protests, coming to your defense. “(Y/N)’s a good kid. I think she’s just been through some stuff, but I think she enjoys coming to camp and hanging out with the team, even maybe playing soccer.”

You fondly smile, hearing your ma defend you to her good friend, even when you weren’t there.

“I think I’m gonna run up some dinner to her after we eat,” Christen says, worry evident in her voice. “I may have been too harsh on her.”

“Babe, it’s a tough situation, but I think you handled it very well,” Tobin tries to ease her girlfriend’s concerns.

“Hey, why don’t I bring her her dinner and maybe talk to her a little?” Ashlyn offers. “I mean I just thought I might be able to get through to her, maybe even share some of my own experiences with her.”

“That’d be great, Ash, thanks.” You see your mom, but you can hear the smile in her voice.

You don’t hear the rest of the conversation, as you turn around and quickly make your way back to your room, now that you know Ash is bringing you some food.

—————

It was about an hour later when you hear a knock on the door. “Hey, (Y/N), it’s Ashlyn. I brought you some dinner.”

Getting up from the desk, you go to open the door, revealing the blonde goalkeeper holding a plate of food. “Hey, Ash. Thanks for the food.”

“Can I come in?”

You bite your lip, weighing your options. “Yeah, sure.” Opening the door wider, you move to let her in.

Following her into the room, you place your plate on the desk, after moving your work to the side. You sit down to start eating, when you notice that Ashlyn is still watching you from the end of your bed.

“Ummm,” you mumble awkwardly. “Was there something you wanna talk about?” You ask, even though you already had a good idea as to where this conversation was heading.

Ash takes a deep breath before talking. “Look, (Y/N), I’m just gonna be straight up with you. I know about the fight you had at school, and I saw what happened at dinner last night, and I saw the almost fight you had with Sonnett today at practice. And I know that you’re not that kid, because I’ve heard what your moms have had to say about you.

“But I also know that this aggression, this anger, that you have, it’s not healthy. I don’t know if it’s some pent up shit or if it’s something you’re going through currently, but whatever it is that’s bothering you, it’s not gonna go away if you keep it to yourself.

“And honestly, I should know because I’ve dealt with some tough shit that life’s dealt me, but you know what? I didn’t get through that alone, and neither will you. But luckily, you have two amazing and supportive moms that are there for you, and will support and love you, but only if you let them. You even have all of us because this team is a family, and so now you’re part of that.

“So basically, I’m just here if you wanted to talk. It doesn’t even have to be about school or what’s been happening. Could be about anything: your favorite food, the stupid biology test I heard you’ve been studying for, Tobin’s weird obsession with using the same three emojis, Christen’s morning routine, whatever you want, I’m here.”

During Ashlyn’s speech, a whirl of emotions circulate your body, but most of all, you feel warm. You feel warm knowing you have people in your corner rooting for you, something you weren’t entirely familiar with before.

Almost as if the older woman’s words had knocked down a damn, your eyes flood with tears, sobs wrecking your body.

“I just— I’ve never had anybody who— They were always so mean— I could never say anything— I didn’t want—,” you gasp, struggling to breath with the intensity of your crying.

“Shhhhh, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” Ash coos, as she wraps her arms around you, allowing you to cry into her chest.

After a couple of minutes, after your tears have subsided and your breathing’s evened out, you sniffle, pulling out of the goalie’s embrace.

“I didn’t really have the best childhood growing up with my biological family, you know, before Tobin and Christen,” you begin to explain the shortened and simplified version of your story.

“My parents weren’t the best, actually they were the worst,” you say with a chuckle, knowing that was an understatement. “The kids at school, Emily at the dinner table and at practice, it’s all just a trigger, reminding me of things my parents used to do and say. I guess, when I was younger, I never really processed what happened, so now, I just react with all this anger that I have for my parents.”

“(Y/N).” Ashlyn squeezes your shoulder. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I really think that if you talked to Tobin and Christen and opened up to them, even if it’s just what they told me, they’d still love you and support you.”

“Really?” You ask, uncertain.

“Mhmm,” she hums. “As much as it would calm their worrying, and you know how much Chris can worry sometimes,” the two of you share a laugh at that, “I think that this is something you need as well: to have parents in your life who will actually be parents for you, who will guide you, support you, love and care for you, tell you when you’re being stupid, give you advice, let you make bad decisions because that’s how you’ll learn, let you be your true self. I think, deep down, that that’s something you truly want.”

You follow her words and nod. “Yeah,” you sigh. “I do want that.”

Ashlyn gives you a soft smile, as she stands up from the bed. “How about I go get your moms and you guys can talk?”

“That’d be great,” you agree. Just as Ash’s about to leave, you call out to her, “And Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” You give her a sincere smile, trying to convey your gratitude.

Ashlyn just nod with a grin, receiving your message, before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

—————

After Ash left, you started to pace around the room, nerves fluttering in your stomach, as you were mentally rehearsing what you were gonna say to your moms.

About ten minutes later, a knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. “Sweetie,” you hear Christen’s muffled voice. “Can we come in?”

“Yeah,” you call back, resuming your pacing, as the two women enter the room.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tobin approaches you. “Ash said you wanted to talk to us?”

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath and shake your hands, ridding yourself of the nerves. As you sit down on the bed, both of your moms take a seat opposite you on the other bed.

“I just wanted to explain some stuff to you guys, tell you my story or whatever, you know, all that jazz,” you stammered awkwardly.

“(Y/N/N), we don’t want you to feel pressured to tell us anything if you’re not ready,” Christen assures.

“No, I need to share this with you. I want to,” you insist, adamantly shaking your head.

“Okay, we’re here for you.” Tobin nods, giving you an encouraging smile.

You take another deep breath before diving into the story of your life. “As you obviously know, my biological parents weren’t really fit for raising a child, which is why you adopted me, but you already knew that.”

You run your hands through your hair, as this was proving to be more difficult than you thought. But looking at the warm and understanding eyes of your moms, you push through.

“My parents, especially my father, were abusive, both verbally and physically. It started as early as I can remember. They would always be calling me names and insulting me if I didn’t do things correctly, even for the tiniest mistakes like leaving the toothpaste on the counter.

“Growing up with that and hearing it everyday, I started to believe it. I thought I was useless and stupid, a no good child, those words ingrained in my mind. But I was taught not to show any emotions. ‘Don’t be such a baby’ is what they’d always say to me.

“So, I learned to hide it all, even if that meant keeping it all to myself. I guess that’s why I’ve been acting out recently; it’s all bubbling over, exploding out of me.”

You quickly glance at your moms, scanning their faces for any hints of disgust or anger, but all you can see is empathy and sadness.

“I didn’t tell you this, but I guess I should’ve: the kids at school bully me, calling me names, insulting me, and sometimes even kicking me. Sometimes, they even talk about you two, why you’re together or why you would adopt someone like me.

“At dinner yesterday, Emily just kept pushing me to talk, which I’ve never really encountered before, and I was really uncomfortable, so I just snapped. And at training, she said ‘don’t be such a baby’ after she’d tackled me, and those words triggered all those memories of my father, and all that anger and hatred I have for him just came out.

Hanging your head, tears falling down your cheeks, you bite your trembling lip. “I know that doesn’t excuse my behavior, and I accept my punishments, but I just thought you should know my past, especially because your my moms and I’m your daughter.”

Through the blur of the pools in your eyes, you see your moms giving you a sad, fond smile.

Sniffling, you choke back a sob. “I’m sorry I’m not the perfect daughter you guys wanted, but I love you, moms.”

Tobin and Christen immediately move to either side of you, wrapping you up in their arms and rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Oh, (Y/N/N),” Christen whispers, kissing your temple. “Sweetie, will you look at me.”

Lifting your head from the crook of her neck, you meet her teary eyes.

“(Y/N), we don’t want a perfect daughter. We want you, every single part of you, even the most scarred and damaged parts of you, because you know what?” She brushes loose hair out of your face.

“Hmm?”

“All those parts of you are what make you you. (Y/N), you are an incredibly intelligent, kind, caring, and beautiful soul, even with all your scars.”

“Don’t forget talented!” Tobin chirps from next to you. “I saw that nutmeg earlier today.” She smirks, as she gives you a knowing look, causing you all to share a wet chuckle.

“Thanks, moms.” You lean your head against Tobin’s shoulder and hold Christen’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m so grateful for you, moms. I love you guys.”

“We love you, too, kiddo.” Your ma leans down to kiss the top of your head, as Christen lovingly snuggles against your side, humming in agreement.

“And just know that if you ever need to talk to anybody or just need a shoulder to lean or cry on, we’re always here for you.”

You nod against her shoulder and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of contentment and warmth, the feeling of home that you found between the love of your moms.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #preath x reader #preath x daughter!reader #uswnt #tobin heath #christen press #preath

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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

richboy!yeosang (part 5)

word count: 6k

angst, fluff (tw: postpartum depression)

(part 4) (miniseries masterlist)

kang jang-mi was born at seven pounds, four ounces on what felt like the hottest day in june.

your friends sat anxiously in the waiting room, the last remaining quarrels about if it’s a boy or a girl quietly spoken and much more positive. mingi and yunho could only sit there sharing side-eyes and smirks, your slip up in the coffee shop filling them with excitement.

“i still think it’s a boy,” jongho says, “i’m confident.”

“i already bought the it’s a girl balloon so it better be.”

“well i bought the it’s a boy balloon so...”

yeosang walking into the waiting room stops the conversation immediately, a smirk crossing his face at the two different types of balloons. the boys are up and out of their seats immediately, rushing over to the new father with a flurry of questions and comments.

but the man is used to this type of chaos from his friends, silencing them with a single finger before attempting to get to all of their questions - or at least some of them.

“y/n and the baby are okay. she can only see two people at a time and she personally requested mingi and yunho first.”

disappointed sighs and groans leave the other boys as mingi and yunho shoot up from their seats, scurrying over to yeosang who shares a knowing smile with the couple.

“wait, wait, wait,” jongho says when the three men turn to leave, yeosang looking him over questioningly.

he watches with a growing smirk as his youngest friend grabs a blue balloon before snatching away san’s ‘it’s a girl’, offering them both to him expectantly.

“which one?”

multiple heads of innocent bystanders and smirking staffs snap to the big group of men, surprised gasps leaving all of them when yeosang wordlessly takes the pink balloon and pushes mingi and yunho toward your room.

chaos erupts from the other group of boys being left in the waiting room, other bystanders and nurses watching along with wide-eyed expressions.

“i told you, you silly fuck!”

“they got it wrong. i was- i was so sure.”

“did she really ask for us or did you feel bad that we were stuck with them?” yunho chuckles out, yeosang sharing a smirk with the boy as they walk down the hall.

“a little bit of both,” he says, stopping in front of the door and peeking inside.

he can see through the window that your eyes are shut, the sweat once dripping down your face gone as you lay completely still and relaxed.

the labor had been hard but you’d gotten through it well, to no one’s surprise.

you squeezed his hand while you screamed and cried, swearing you were never gonna do this again and will only trust in condoms from here on out. you blamed him for his “kink for elevators” and only didn’t burst out laughing because he knew you were in pain.

but now as lay still and healthy, your baby in the newborn unit adjusting to the new world, he feels a different type of content. all the fear and anxiety about the unknowns settled with the simple fact that you’re okay and the baby’s okay.

“they’re both doing really good, though. y/n’s not mad at me anymore for getting her pregnant so that’s a good sign,” yeosang chuckles, his eyes looking toward you lovingly before meeting yunho and mingi’s gaze again.

“we got to talk and we wanted to ask you two something,” the boy says, his eyes moving from yunho to mingi before hardening slightly.

“i wanted yunho as the god parent but y/n insisted that you have to be as well,” he says, underneath the mock look of disdain and irritation an intense happiness and warmth everyone can clearly see.

“i don’t know want you thinking this was my idea. so... what do you guys say? wanna be godparents?” yeosang smiles, the overwhelming look in yunho and mingi’s eyes making him chuckle; they both look ready to cry and scream in joy.

“maybe try to not let my daughter now you’ve tried to kill me on multiple occasions,” he adds to mingi, the boy rolling his eyes despite the way he reaches out and pats his shoulder.

the movement’s a little awkward and unfamiliar but neither of the boys say anything, an unspoken respect and liking for each other that’s come about within the past years.

both of them know the other would never do anything to hurt you purposely and they know the same will be said for jang-mi.

“of course, are you kidding me!” yunho chuckles out, pulling yeosang’s smaller boy into his. “thank you, yeosang. that’s so... this is gonna be so cool.”

yeosang smiles and nods his head, looking back at you to see you’re now sitting up awake and stretching your arms up.

the three boys bursting through the door cause you to look over and smile lazily, a quiet, “hi,” before you’re promptly pulled into a hug.

“be careful,” yeosang growls at mingi, the taller boy ignoring him completely; of course he was being careful, you just pushed out a baby a few hours ago.

“how you feeling?” yunho asks before his smile widens. “i’m asking as, you know, the godparent...”

“you... asked them without me?!” you whined softly at yeosang, smacking him in the stomach as he throws his arms up defensively.

“you were sleeping, baby, you said it was okay,” he whines back, bending down to peck a kiss on your head.

“i know but i still wanted to-”

the nurse knocking on the door rips your attention away, eyes wide and alert as you think she’s about to tell you something is wrong; but then she’s there smiling softly, holding a pink blanket with your baby wrapped up in it that causes mingi and yunho to gasp quietly.

“oh, my god.... she’s so small,” mingi whispers, yunho snorting next to him as he throws his arm around his shoulder.

“what’d you expect? she’s a baby,” he responds, watching as you so naturally take the baby in your arms.

you’d always been a little scared of just how delicate newborn babies are, feeling awkward or nervous to take them or hold them in the wrong way.

but it’s like the eight and a half month journey had made everything easier and more natural, the simple inclination you have even just to hold her properly something you couldn’t have ever imagined.

“come here,” you mumble softly, yunho and mingi moving closer to the bed to get a good look at her.

and as far as babies go, though they think they might be a little biased, they have to imagine she’s the prettiest one they’d ever seen. a head full of hair already and eyes gazing up at them curiously, alert and calm and making them coo quietly at her.

“are we allowed to hold her?” yunho asks.

but before he gets the chance, five bodies barreling through the door with the nurse’s “wait, two at a time please!” distract all of you, the rest of the boys rushing through to get a look at you and the baby.

“let us see, let us see!”

“i can’t believe it’s a girl.”

“wait.... don’t tell me they’re the godparents.”

if you thought the bickering that went on after the boys found out about who you chose as god parents was bad, you weren’t nearly prepared enough for your first month as a mother.

your once peaceful and quiet apartment had quickly turned into chaos. it was the 7th night in a row you were awoken by your little girl’s screams and you weren’t sure if you could take much more of it.

the first week was strangely blissful, you and yeosang taking shifts to feed her or check on her in the middle of the night.

“mom, i’m telling you, everything is strangely.... really good?” you said on the phone foolishly, going on and on about how easy your baby was.

how feeding her always went smoothly, how she basically slept through the night unless one small cry echoed through the baby monitor.

how you and yeosang loved just sitting around the house and watching her sleep or look up at you two curiously.

how you couldn’t believe you’d gotten so lucky to have, both, an understanding boyfriend and well-behaved infant.

but that all quickly changed one night, a summer thunderstorm you’re almost positively traumatized your daughter to the point of tarnishing her near-perfect sleep schedule.

now she cried on the hour to just be held, feeding her at the normal times but then screaming her head off when you tried to place her back down. you’d fallen asleep in the chair holding her one too many times to count, tired and drained and just wanting to relieve your heavy eyes.

yeosang admired your composure and helped along side the way, waking with you and kneeling down watching you hum softly or rest your eyes; but then you cracked the 7th night and, similar to your pregnancy outbursts, it seemed almost out of nowhere.

it’d been his turn to get up and feed her, the wailing and screaming that’s kept you up for nights silencing just a few moments after it started.

whether it be your own curiosity or your new mother’s protectiveness kicking in, you peeked inside the nursery to see yeosang staring down at your daughter. both of them are completely calm and relaxed in the darkness, only the sound of her soft breathing and yeosang’s gentle hums.

as you lean against the door and watch them, you feel a strange mix of warmth and sadness.

you knew you were right in your assumption that yeosang was gonna be a great dad. he was kind and nurturing and sweet, you saw it in the way he took care of you and the other people in your lives.

and jang-mi from the moment she was in the world loved him, looked to him and was easily soothed by him - you could just tell they were gonna have a great relationship.

but you.

you felt as if you were failing.

the nights you woke to feed her, she typically screamed and cried for what felt like hours. she’d only settle down in your arms when you’d start to hum the same tune as yeosang right now, something you both did during your months of pregnancy.

it felt as if at nights, that with her new fears and rocky sleeping pattern, that in times of crisis, she wanted yeosang.

and a part of you loved that but another part of you couldn’t help but feel powerless. that even after a month of bonding with your baby, smiling and laughing and holding her, after months of carrying her and helping her grow, she didn’t seem to like you.

yeosang caught your gaze and you smiled at him softly, giving him a tired thumbs up before trekking back to bed.

you tried to push down your feelings and felt bad for feeling this way, a knot in your stomach and pain in your chest; it wasn’t about jang-mi and yeosang or you and him as parents as much as it was about you feeling completely incompetent.

you couldn’t even get your own baby to stop crying faster than yeosang; everyone says a mother has a natural tendency to do that so why does it feel like you don’t?

the tears in your eyes are unaware to you until you push your face into your pillow and feel the wetness seeping through. you can only stay there buried in shame and defeat and embarrassment, knowing that while you’re in here crying, your baby is doing fine without you.

yeosang comes in a few moments later, only small whines from his daughter as he placed her body in her crib. she looked up at him and he smiled softly, reaching out to pat the peach fuzz on her head until she fell fast asleep.

the past month has been tiring but worth it, crawling in beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“hopefully she’s good for the night,” he mumbled in your ear, his lips pressing against your head chastely. you only hum in response and at first he thinks it’s just because you’re tired but then he feels how tense you are.

how your shoulders are tight and your face is buried and it causes him to call your name gently.

you’re not surprised that he’s able to tell something’s wrong, rolling over wordlessly and allowing him to see your tear-stained face. it immediately makes his heart sink, lips turning into a frown as he reaches out to dab at the wetness.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asks lowly, voice sweet and tone deep and it only makes you break more.

“you’re... you’re so good with her, yeosang,” you whimper out, his eyebrows pulling together as he wipes at your tears and pulls you closer. “you’re so good with her and she barely cries when you go in there... but when i go in there... i feel like i’m doing a terrible job.”

“what?” yeosang asks, genuine confusion in his voice as he pulls your face to meet his. there’s anxiety and sadness and defeat in your eyes, his hold on you tightening as he shakes his head.

“no, no, baby. you’re doing so good and she loves you,” he reassures gently.

“no i’m not,” you cry out, shaking your head as you feel all the stress and fear and anxiety from this pat month hit you. “i don’t know what the hell i’m doing.”

“neither do i, baby,” he says, a pout on his lips as he looks over your teary face. “we both still don’t know what we’re doing but it’s going well, no? i love you and she loves you.”

“no, it’s not,” you whimper out, burying your face in his shirt and feeling him sigh against you. “and she hates me. she only wants you at night and screams when i go in there. why else would she do that?”

your words are wet and muffled but he’s still able to make each one out, his heart breaking as he gently runs his fingers through your hair.

“every day and night has been different, my love. some days she’s been good and others she’s been cranky. we’re all still adjusting and that’s okay,” he says quietly, reminding himself these exact words in his own fits of panic.

because of course he’s panicking half the time too but he tries to be strong for you. be a rock for you in a way you’ve always been for him.

“you’re doing so good, baby, i promise. she wants you every morning, have you noticed that? i can go in there and pick her up but she cries. she only stops when she sees you walk through.”

“that’s only because she’s hungry,” you mutter, a humorless chuckle leaving yeosang’s mouth as he shakes his head.

“no. because i feed her, too. she just wants to see you in the morning, baby,” he mumbles, holding himself above you so his eyes can roam your face. he presses a kiss on your cheek, then the other, until he’s pressing them all over you and you’re pushing him away playfully.

“you’re doing great, love. we both are and she actually likes us, i think,” he says, flopping back down before pulling you on his chest. similiar to his movements from just moments ago in the nursery, his hand runs through your hair gently and you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

and sure enough, when you wake up, you hear cries coming from the nursery that have you springing up and out of your bedroom. yeosang’s holding jang-mi and he smiles knowingly at you, pressing a kiss to your head he passes her to you and her wails stop.

the next few months, you both became a little more confident in your parenting abilities.

changing diapers was easier and waking up for nightly feedings was like clockwork, falling into a steady routine that consisted of yeosang taking online classes and going to work three times a week.

on the days he was out, one of the five boys would come over and keep you both company - yeosang’s demand that one of them keep his girls busy and happy while he’s out.

jang-mi was a little over six months now, laying on the floor with mingi while you cooked for the three of you. your days were the same at this point but you loved each and every one, cooped up in the apartment as you watched your baby grow and meet all her milestones.

you’d been there for all of them and you prided yourself on that. the first time she smiled at you, the first time she reached out for the toy san had gotten her, the first time she-

“y/n!”

you ran from the stove to the living room at mingi’s loud voice, rushing inside to see your best friend looking down at your child like she’d grown 3 heads.

“what? what happened?” you ask frantically, rushing over to get a good look at her; she’s not crying and you don’t see any blood, those are already two reassuring signs.

“she just said my name!”

and it’s at that you start giggling into your hand, covering your face and shaking your head because “mingi, she just turned six months. she can’t talk yet.”

“but she did! she just did! i swear she said-”

there’s a pounding on your front door before seonghwa, san and wooyoung enter, the three boys not even acknowledging you as they rush over to the baby on the floor.

“hi to you guys too,” you huff, watching the boys crowd around the jang-mi with shouts of “hey, y/n!” a giggle leaves your mouth before you ditch the meal and order pizza instead, calling yeosang to see if he’ll be home soon.

“hey, baby. how it’s going?”

“the boys showed up so i just ordered pizza,” you tell him, watching as jang-mi giggles at san and wooyoung making funny faces at her. “are you gonna be home soon?”

“what, you miss me or something?”

because after all this time you spend together now, more often than not during the week, leaving each other proves to be more difficult. you’d think you two would want a break from each other but him leaving is by far the worst part of your days on monday through wednesday.

“yes,” you admit softly, his deep chuckle causing you to giggle softly.

“i’ll be home soon. probably 30 minutes, just finishing up some stuff. will you be able to last that long?”

you roll your eyes and let out a scoff as you make your way into the living room, insisting to your boyfriend you’ll do just fine before your eyes catch mingi and jang-mi smiling at one another.

“oh. and you’ll be happy to hear that mingi thinks jang-mi’s first word was his name.”

“oh, bullshit,” yeosang snaps, a loud chuckle leaving your mouth that grabs said man’s attention.

“it was! i heard her say it!”

“she doesn’t even like you!” yeosang says loudly through the phone, the image of him screaming in his office making you giggle. you hang up before the two can start to bicker more, sliding your phone onto the table before sinking down onto the couch.

you’re still tired these days but the boys coming over helps, allowing you to relax while also watching jang-mi play and have fun.

you don’t know when or how you doze off with the chaos, you just know that one moment you’re watching seonghwa tickle jang-mi and the next, you’re waking up to yeosang placing a kiss on your lips.

“hey, love,” he mumbles, kneeling down to meet your gaze on the couch. you smile tiredly as you bury yourself into the cushions, pulling him closer to you and mumbling that you missed him.

“i know, baby, i missed you too,” he hums.

because if there’s one thing he noticed throughout parenthood, it’s that, somehow, your relationship has only gotten stronger.

you both have the same fears but also have the same things that make you happy - and that’s each other, your baby, and the headache inducing friends currently talking shit to your child.

“they’re so gross, you’re gonna have a brother soon, mark my words, miss jang-mi.”

“nah, it’ll be another girl, i know it for sure now,” wooyoung says, dabbing at her face full of applesauce. “you’ll be an older sister, little lady.”

“he thought you were a chicken, mi, you really can’t take his word for anything.”

you and yeosang share an amused look before he pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the table before quickly pecking your cheek. he takes jang-mi for a diaper change as you talk and laugh with the boys, everything about your life right now far too perfect.

it was a rough start but they all made it a little easier.

you were lucky to have a great support system, albeit a little insane, that made this transition easy.

there was nothing but love and admiration between all of you, their eyes lighting up every time jang-mi giggles or concern flashing when she stumbles down clumsily.

like when yeosang comes back into the main room without jang-mi fifteen minutes later, they all jump up and demand to know where she is.

“you idiots tired her out, she fell asleep in the middle of a diaper change.”

and with the baby sleeping and the rest of the night to yourselves, you and yeosang are quick to all but kick everyone out of the apartment. there’s loud protests and mock hurt from the boys but they know deep down, you two rarely get a minute to yourselves these days.

mingi gives you a parting wink and you roll your eyes, waving goodbye to the boy before yeosang closes the door. he turns to see you cleaning up the table and quickly stops you, tugging you by the waist before promptly throwing you down on the couch.

you land with a giggle as his body covers yours, lips meeting yours in a kiss that quickly has your legs wrapping around his waist.

it’s been a while since you two were able to do something as simple as make out, feel him under you as you straddle his lap or suppress your moans as his kisses down your neck.

but right now, something as silly as kissing and giggling and roaming hands on the couch feels exciting. it feels the same way it did in the pool house all those years ago, fresh and fun and exciting.

full of a passion that you hoped even then would never burn out.

and not even now with a baby has it. not even with a real ‘adult’ life have you two ever felt as if that connection was gone.

“i love you, you know that?” he mumbles into your skin, your cheeks warming and stomach fluttering as you look up at him. there’s a soft pink glow to them that makes him smile fondly, his hand cupping your cheek gently.

you can only nod shyly, your own softly spoken “i love you, too,” mumbled into the living room.

the sky is an array of pink and orange, the sun just about to set before darkness paints the windows of your apartment.

it’ll be a night for movies, snacks and resting your head on his lap, his hands playing with your before one of two things happens: jang-mi wakes up and you bring her out or you fall asleep and yeosang carries you into bed for the night.

the latter had seemed to happen a few hours later because one minute, your head’s resting on yeosang under a blanket and the next, you’re placed down on your soft, cold bed.

you let out a tired whine and yeosang smiles down at you, mumbling that you fell asleep before quickly joining you; it’s wednesday which means yeosang’s home for the next four days, your smile widening at that reminder before you move yourself closer to him.

his days off now don’t mean you can sleep in but instead, wake together. make breakfast for each other while watching your child giggle and smile in her high chair.

you used to go to the park on the days it wasn’t too cold but now with winter approaching, you’re usually cozied up in your house with the fire place burning and a cartoon on.

switching between giving attention to each other and jang-mi, who promptly wakes you both up at 5:30 in the morning.

you insist that yeosang sleeps in more, pushing him back down numerous times before he pins you to the bed and demands for you to go back to bed; a pout covers your lips as you shake your head but it’s like your tired eyes don’t get the memo.

“you worked for the past three days, you need to rest,” you whine tiredly, his eyes rolling because he’s positive sitting behind a desk and talking with his coworkers is a lot easier than taking care of a baby.

“i’m well rested, thank you, love,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling back. “mi will have to settle for her dad today.”

the two and a half hours of sleep were great but when you woke up and saw pancakes ready for you and yeosang and jang-mi laying together on the couch, you could’ve burst into tears on the spot.

he was talking softly to her, singing her name in a little tune before you heard his deep chuckle.

“what’s so funny?” you ask, both, his and jang-mi’s smiles brightening at the sound of your voice. she immediately opens her arms up for you and you take her happily, pressing a kiss to her head before looking at your boyfriend.

the scent of pancakes is more prominent in the living room, looking over to see a plate of pancakes sitting atop the stove.

“thank you for breakfast,” you say softly, the smell filling the apartment making your stomach growl.

“thank you for finally listening to me and sleeping in.”

you roll your eyes before bringing your food over to the table, sitting on the floor as you watch jang-mi babble and play with her toys next to you.

she’s been babbling for the past few weeks now so when you hear her quiet, little “gigigi,” you don’t think much of it; but then when yeosang bursts out laughing again, you have to look to him with your mouth stuffed full of pancakes.

“what?”

“do you think that’s why mingi thought she was saying his name?”

a loud laugh bubbles out of your mouth causing jang-mi to jump before joining along, her own giggles and your reaction causing yeosang to snort into his hand.

he’s quick to whip out his phone and record her, her smile and giggles quickly shifting when she rolls on her back and starts to play with her toes.

and when mingi watches the video yeosang sends him a few moments later, he can’t help but gleefully send back that not only does his own child like him more, he said his name first.

it was a nosy, crotchety old woman at the food store that sparked the conversation of marriage between you and yeosang.

you two were shopping for jang-mi’s first birthday tomorrow, her smiley and giggling form in the front of the cart, when an older woman commented on how beautiful she was.

“thank you,” you smiled politely, you and yeosang sharing that same, warm look any time someone compliments your child.

“you must’ve been a young bride, dear, you look like a baby too,” she chuckled, a smirk on yeosang’s lips as you let out a forced, almost strangled laugh.

and it’s then the woman’s eyes move down your body to your ringless left hand, a look of judgment crossing her face quicker than you can believe.

“oh... or not a bride, that’s....”

“none of your business, now is it lady?” yeosang says, his tone just as deceptively kind as hers even with the bite in it.

she walks off with a huff and dirty look thrown your way, a smirk on your face before you push him down the cereal aisle.

it bothered you a little bit when you first found about jang-mi, getting pregnant and not being married, but those feelings quickly went away when you thought about how silly that was.

marriage is something that’s different for everyone and for you and yeosang, even with a baby, it’s not something you inherently need. you already live together and live your life as a married couple - all that’s left to do is blow money on the ceremony and go away to a tropical island.

yeosang can’t help but be a little bothered by the woman’s words throughout the day, though probably because they were directed toward you, but he noticed you weren’t upset at all about it.

you carried on in the store and at the house like normal, setting up decorations and planning the meals while he put jang-mi to bed by wrapping her in her birthday onesie.

“hey, baby,” you hear him say, turning from your spot at the stove.

he presses your back against it and you smile into the kiss, tilting your head coyly when you pull away. your eyes roam his face because you could tell that woman’s comment irritated him, you just weren’t sure why.

“are you okay?”

“mhm,” he hums lowly, his hands reaching up to run through your hair. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“i don’t know...” you mumble quietly, a smirk pulling at your lips before you bring your hand next to your face to wiggle your fingers. “maybe because we’re sinners who aren’t married.”

a snort leaves yeosang’s mouth as he shakes his head, pulling you by the waist in typical fashion to bring you over to the couch. you two plop down as you get comfy on him, resting your head on his shoulder and basking in his comfort and warmth.

you’re not sure how long you sit in a comfortable silence for, you just know that everything is calm and quiet and it’s such a contrast to this time last year. when things were chaotic and you felt like you wouldn’t be able to handle motherhood.

when you weren’t sure how you and yeosang would be, if the dynamic and household was gonna be so different that it ended up breaking you guys down as a couple.

and while things changed, it seemed to be for the better. it only made you two more happy and more secure, wedding band and your official last name as kang aside.

“i don’t mind not being married,” you assure him quietly, because you know that’s the elephant in the room right now.

“i don’t... want us to get married because we had a kid. i want us to get married when the time feels right. maybe when we’re both actually out of school or something,” you chuckle out, remembering when that was your original plan for popping out a kid.

yeosang feels a weight lift off his shoulder as he looks over at you, unsurprised in the slightest that you not only knew what was wrong, but that you were able to calm him down.

assure him in a way that made him know you guys always seem to be on the same page when you effectively communicate about things.

“i feel the same way,” he says to you, tightening his hold on you before pressing a kiss to your head. “even though if you wanted... i’d go out and-”

“buy a ring right now,” you tease, shimming over until you’re sitting on his lap. you twirl your fingers through his hair. “i think you’re just eager to buy the wedding ring.”

“duh, it’s gonna be flashy as fuck.”

your face pulls into one of disgust and he can’t help but laugh, knowing on more than one occasion he’s thought about what kind of wedding ring you’d want.

“i’d kill you,” you mumble, the last of your sentence getting cut off when he slams his lips on yours.

“shut up,” he mumbles back, you giggling against his mouth before you move your hips over his teasingly.

your clothes become littered on the living room floor before your naked body runs into the bedroom to grab a condom, the promise that you screamed through labor every bit true as you roll the latex over yeosang.

“are you ever gonna trust birth control again? i miss feeling your warm, tight pus-”

you sink down on him and chuckle when he lets out a moan, rolling your eyes and riding him on the couch with the reassurance that, a month later, you won’t be needing to get another pregnancy test just yet.

“no, no! say wooo-young!”

“gi....gi.”

“woooo-young.”

“gi.....gi.”

“wooyoung.”

“gigi.”

everyone around the table snorts at the look jang-mi throws her uncle, her sweet little voice just as stern and face just as dumbfounded.

“i told you guys, i’m her favorite,” mingi boasts, taking jang-mi from her seat and smiling when she clings on to him.

her first birthday consisted of cake, bickering and pink decorations placed throughout the apartment. her pile of toys in the living room and nursery doubled from the amount of gifts today alone, a giant dollhouse taking up a good portion of her room now.

it’s where she’s currently dragging mingi and, begrudgingly, wooyoung off to, showing them all her dolls and cars that they’ve gifted her throughout the first year of her life.

you and yeosang watch her walk off, the two boys crouched and awkwardly walking like crabs so they’re down to her level. you both share a smile before yeosang pecks your cheek, cleaning up the leftover cake and plates while you share a smile with yunho.

“can you guys adopt a baby?”

you’ve never seen yunho’s face turn a brighter shade of red in your life, his hand reaching out to smack your arm lightly.

“are you crazy?”

“oh c’mon,” you whine, a playful smile on your face as you poke his stomach with both pointer fingers. “isn’t it sweet watching mingi with a baby? he’s barely grouchy anymore.”

“maybe around her,” he scoffs, your eyes rolling because you know mingi isn’t as happy and pleasant around anyone as much as he is his fiancé - though next month, you’ll be able to say husband.

it was quickly planned but the two decided to have a summer wedding, july 21st with none other than jang-mi as the flower girl. her dress is yellow and has been hung on her door for weeks, excitement rushing through her every time she sees it.

“okay well then after the wedding, of course,” you wink, his eyes rolling; but you also don’t miss the shy smile and warm blush on his cheeks, knowing very well those two would create the best home for a child.

yunho thinks maybe they would too, watching how quickly and naturally mingi surprisingly is with children.

yeosang plops down next to guys and chastises you for bringing it up again, knowing from the look on yunho’s face you were probably begging him to adopt a cousin for jang-mi.

“oh c’mon, but wouldn’t it be cute?” you say, smiling up at yeosang in a way that causes him to tap your nose lightly.

“it would be,” he mumbles, before pulling you closer to him. his lips ghost over your ear and it’s probably far too intimate a move with all your friends here but he does it anyway, having no regard or care in the world.

“or she could just... get another sibling.”

you narrow your eyes and smack his arm lightly, reminding yourself to stack up on more condoms when you go to the store tomorrow.

“yeah, right. not for another year, yeosang, i’m serious.”

a smirk crosses his face as he nods his head, pecking your lips lightly before watching your daughter run clumsily to him.

he scoops her up as her giggle rings through the air, his lips smacking loud kisses on her cheeks as she squeals loudly; and it’s upon seeing that you don’t think you’d mind having another baby again.

because planned or not, confident in your parenting abilities or not, you know you and your little family are always gonna be okay.

jang-mi reaches out for you and you immediately rise to your feet, fixing the tiny ponytail atop her head right before her and yeosang place simultaneous pecks on your cheeks.

“cuteeee!” wooyoung squeals, looking over at you before squeezing past and poking jang-mi in the arm lightly. “now tell me, little lady, who’s your favorite? mommy or daddy?”

she narrows her eyes at the man like he asked her something unholy, looking between you and yeosang before throwing her arms around both of you. you share a small giggle and place a peck on her head, your eyes catching yeosang’s just as he smiles back at you.

“both. i love mommy and daddy,” she says, her squeaky little voice causing your smile to widen.

“and gigi,” she quickly adds, a laugh bubbling out of you when everyone, including yeosang, let out groans and smack the favorite uncle in the arm.

complete

tag list: @mirror-juliet @toffee-hwa @valhoez @miatsubaki23 @mydaintydaisy @treasurehwa @markleeyeosang

#now for those of you upset seonghwa doesn't have a baby #perhaps....stayed tuned #aha #even tho some of u seem to hate children #kdscksksd #yeosang #yeosang fluff #ateez #ateez fluff #yeosang scenarios #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #yeosang imagines

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kireilixie · 3 years

Text

i. Bittersweet Vanilla | Bang Chan x Reader

° 𐐪𐑂 synopsis: Have you ever heard of the phrase, “Right person, wrong time?” You and Chan would have made such a perfect couple had your destinies and dreams not gotten in the way. With no assurance of what you each truly felt for one another you both struggle to keep each other grounded among the different obstacles you face.

° 𐐪𐑂 genre: idolverse, angst, childhood friends, pro swimmer! reader

° 𐐪𐑂 warning(s): mentions of abuse, trauma, insomnia, anxiety attacks, depression, death of a family member

° 𐐪𐑂 8k words

° 𐐪𐑂 author's note: Hello! I am extremely sorry that this was published late, but unfortunately, my other priorities in life came up so I had to push back the release and editing. As you know, bittersweet vanilla is a fic I released a year or so ago. This is a fic I hold dear to my heart, and I was a bit disappointed with how I had written it, especially with the multiple plot holes and gaps. This led me to rewrite and expound on the development of both reader and Chan, this fic will hold the same plot as the previous fic but will be much more detailed compared to the original one. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy and show this fic some love!

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Such a simple yet comforting flavor

A few blocks from school, two from your swimming club and one from the street you lived on, was an ice cream parlor. Winter’s Star was a place of comfort for both you and Chan, albeit not being that popular for its remote location. It had begun a small tradition and routine for you both.

Ice cream after swim training had become a norm for you both, despite the strict healthy diet your father had established for your growth as a swimmer. You would both intentionally opt not to take the bus and walk to the parlor as to walk off the calorie intake you’d get from the dessert as to get your father off your case.

Every time you’d visit, Chan would dash in, beaming over the glass in excitement at the variety of flavors, selecting a different flavor for every visit, a stark difference to your simple preference of classic vanilla.

And every visit, Chan would tilt his head and pout in confusion, asking why you’d get that every single visit. And each time you’d reply, “I’m paying, and I like it that’s why.” rolling your eyes as he sighs at your boring nature.

Though one evening, after practice had ended a bit later than usual, you can see him deadpan at the sight of the creamy white of your vanilla ice cream. And though he doesn’t ask, you decide to explain, “I’d simply not want to risk trying something new, and honestly I just like sticking with what I’m comfortable with.” You shrug, popping a spoon of the comforting flavor into your mouth.

Chan doesn’t ponder much at your explanation nor does he reply that day, too exhausted to think of one.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

This routine of yours had begun the summer before middle school. Moving a lot at a young age, Chan had found it difficult to get settled into the new atmosphere, with his distinct features, he barely fit in. Therefore he found himself once again in the corner of his new school’s swim club unsure of how to apply and whom to approach.

His eyes wandered around, observing the different children doing laps and warming up. Swimming was a sport he and his father enjoyed, and it had made his father extremely happy that he had taken enough interest in it to compete in the said sport.

“Oi, newbie, what are you doing here?” The smaller boy flinched at the loud voice, turning towards the source. He sighs, here we go again, the nine-year-old boy thought.

“I c-came t-to a-apply for the swim club.” The boy managed to softly stutter out, eyes downcast, feeling intimidated by the difference in height.

“And at your puny size, ya think ya can swim fast-”

“Oi, why don’t ya shut up Jacob? A big dumb bully like yourself can’t beat me and here you are trying to scare the newbie, being all talk. Why don’t you stop wasting your time picking on new people and spend it practicing and trying to improve your times.” Chan widened his eyes as he turned to the female voice that had interrupted the confrontation.

He was shocked to see a girl around his age, twirling her goggles around her fingers as she approached Jacob, as she had called him, and his crew that currently surrounded the smaller boy.

Jacob, quite flustered with the unknown girl’s statement, attempted to come up with a good comeback but failed to do so as he muttered, “Why’re you butting in L/n, don’t you usually mind your business?” Eyes avoiding yours in the process.

“And so, what if I decide to butt in? Does your ego inflate at hounding the new kid? If it isn’t going to make you swim faster, I suggest you get your butt moving.” The smaller girl scoffed, raising her eyebrow at them, daring them to cross her.” I suggest you all get moving before I call the coach and tell him you’re slacking, wouldn’t want to swim extra laps now?”

Before Chan could even blink, they’re all dashing off into their respective sides of the pool. The transferee chuckled at that, in awe at the confidence the girl carried. She introduced herself, (Y/N) (L/N) he had learned that day, specialized in free, though claimed to be preparing herself for Individual medley.

Chan introduces himself as well, mentioning that he specialized in butterfly. At the revelation, her eyes glowed in excitement as she tugged the smaller boy towards her father.

“Dad! He swims butterfly! He can complete the relay!” Chan observed, fascinated by the complete 180 in her vibe, wherein the confidence and intimidation she had carried earlier, now dissipating to something more suited for a fellow nine-year-old.

She bounces in excitement, tugging at the end of her father’s shirt, to garner his attention. “We can finally have a relay!”

Finishing his conversation on the phone, her father turned towards the pair, raising an eyebrow at her daughter’s excitement. Bending down to their height the older man asked for Chan’s name, to which he replied a soft ‘Christopher Bang’ at this the older man’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re that boy that broke the record for the 50 m freestyle swim! Your dad called me earlier to inform me that you had transferred here and wanted to join, fill this up, and (Y/n) here can show you your lockers and the shower rooms to change.”

“Really! What’s your time?! Ugh, I hope it’s not faster than mine.” You had frowned at him, enthusiasm and competitiveness lighting her e/c hues at the revelation of a broken record in her specialty. “Come on, you change, then we race. Loser has to buy ice cream.”

You raced five times and lost all five. It had frustrated you though at the same time had triggered a new type of excitement at the knowledge of someone who would no longer shy away from your competitiveness.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Since your first meeting, Chan had indeed become a huge influence and development in your already hectic life. It had shifted your dynamics and attitude towards the sport you had dedicated your life to since you could walk.

Before meeting Chan, you had little to no drive when it came to training and warmups, accustomed to the fact that no one could come close to you in your age range and category. Though now, with the Korean-Australian around, not only did it shift your energy towards the sport, but something had shifted in your relationship with your father along the road.

Your father was a loving man, dedicated to his daughter and bedridden wife, he had been applauded far and wide for raising such a talented daughter dedicated to a sport he too had once dedicated himself to.

It may have seemed that way to the public. However, during the early stages of your childhood, your mother had been in and out of the hospital, something that your five-year-old self couldn’t have understood nor questioned. Living comfortably with the income your father had as a coach and your mother’s family inheritance, your father had opted to hand you over to nannies and private chauffeurs to ensure that you were busy and occupied.

Among the multiple extracurriculars your father had enrolled you in, you had been six when your interest in swimming had peaked. At the discovery of your interest, it had only been then when your father had decided to become more attentive and present in your childhood.

In awe of how quickly you picked up the technique and the different styles, your father had enthusiastically enrolled you into more classes and going further as to fix your diet around the sport, proudly declaring he would raise an Olympian in his stead.

At the age of seven, he had entered you into your first tournament, there you had gotten gold, and honestly, that didn’t matter. What mattered was the warm embrace your father had given you.

Shortly after the tournament, you had arrived home, surprised to see that there had been more staff present as well as unfamiliar people dressed in pajama-looking attire and some donning a white coat.

Soon your nanny leads you into a room faintly smelling like medicine and cleaning materials, it made your nose sting. Though what caught your eye was the bedridden figure connected to multiple machines next to her, sunken eyes, and ghastly figure, you had not been able to recognize your mother.

Having little to no memories of the woman that had given birth to you, made you blink back tears as she called you, voice frail and raspy “Y/n? Is that you? My how big you’ve grown.”

You had slept in her room that night, the soft beeping of monitors and machines lulling you to sleep as you dreamed of picnics and beach trips had faith decided not to be so cruel.

It was then when you promised yourself to bring your mom more medals if it meant spending more time with her. Each tournament you’d finish, you would run in, carefully avoiding wires and the nurses, beaming in excitement about the race and how good you did.

“Are you happy?” She had said to you one day.

“Of course! I just wish you could come to see me swim.” You smile, understanding bits and pieces of her condition, you had never been that good in science.

“Do you have friends in school? Spend time with them, instead of here with me.” The statement confused you, remembering how your father had ensured that you were picked up from and to, preventing you from having playdates, with the statement that they would be mere distractions to your training.

“No not really, but I like being here with-”

“Y/n, you should be living your childhood alright, can you promise me that, love?” She raises her hand to your cheek, caressing it softly.

“Okay, I will, mom.”

A few days after that conversation, you had met Chan, a boy who would, later, be your north star.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Chan was never careless, especially when it came to things like equipment and his stuff in general, he was always so thorough when it came to packing, so it was rare to see him coming back to school to get something he had forgotten.

What he also hadn’t expected was to see you here as well, fully knowing that your father had a private pool in his residence used not only to train you but as well his private students.

“You had been getting too comfortable, look at your weight, look at your times.” Chan hears your father’s voice from the locker rooms, the Korean Australian hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but with how loud your father’s voice echoed it was hard not to do so. “Do you think your mother would be proud?”

“She said, I should make friends-”

“YOUR MOTHER IS SICK.” Chan flinches at your father’s loud voice as it echoes.

“She’s sick, just because she says something it doesn’t mean you should follow through.” Your father’s voice softens this time, exhaustion peeking through.

“Friends? You’d be distracted and before you even know it. You’d be toppled off that little podium of yours.” He pauses, scoffing. “Don’t make me regret allowing you to hang out with the Bang boy. Beat his times, don’t get too comfortable just cause you’re topping your bracket.”

Chan doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath till he hears both your footsteps as you exit the hall. What he’s heard has left him baffled, you weren’t exactly talkative when it came to your family affairs, you never seemed to be so bothered either.

The Korean-Australian remembers faintly the rumors that followed your persona. All about your reluctance when it came to making friends, never taking into consideration that perhaps your father had played a part in your icy exterior and reputation.

No wonder most of the kids in your academy had been so shocked to see you interact and talk with the transferee, knowing that you had never been the type to prefer company.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

It wasn’t like you to be so careless either, you were quite attentive when it came to maintaining your grades and health as an athlete.

So, the D on your most recent math test, as well as the onset symptoms of cold was something that had made your blood run cold. Your school followed a strict protocol that required athletes to maintain a good record, which included having Bs and upon all tests.

Anything less than that would mean a week of suspension when it came to training as well as being supplied a set of reviewers to “catch up”, which you were required to finish and submit by the end of the suspension.

Not only that but surprisingly, your father was quite sensitive when it came to your physical welfare, a result of your mother’s condition, honestly. Which meant that the man would not let you near any body of water until you would be in perfect health.

Dread seemed to settle into your system as you hand him your slip, which would signify your suspension. “You were coughing earlier, take time off, I’ll call the nutritionist to change your diet. I’ll call the tutor-”

“You’re getting a tutor?” Chan beams behind your father, “I can help you, I’m in advanced remember?”

Times like these the Korean- Australian baffled you with his audacity, as he continued to grow out of his shyness, and despite your dad having explicitly stated that he had preferred you not to spend any time with your fellow swimmer, he still respected the Korean Australian’s talent and dedication to the sport.

“You’re in advanced math classes Chris?” Chan nods at this in hopes that the coach would consider his offer. “Your times have gotten better, you could take a few days off, with her.”

What?

You’re both in the locker rooms packing your bags when you whisper, “How’d you do that?”

“What do you mean?” Chan hums, amused by your intrigued form.

“My dad, your coach, the F/n L/n, agreed with your suggestion. How did you do that?” You’re poking at his sides, determined to make him spill.

“Secret~” He pokes his tongue out, running out of the training hall.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

You had your chauffeur, drop you off in the Bang Residence, surprised to learn that you lived a street down. You’re warmly welcomed by Chan’s parents greeting and smiling at them through your mask.

“Looks like you didn’t my help nor a tutor, Y/n” Chan smiles seeing that you’re almost through seven worksheets, the swimmer knew you were smart and could keep up with your grades. Though for you to be this careless, he knew that something might’ve been bothering you.

“Come on, let’s go.” You’re shocked as he pulls you up to stand, making you drop your pen and papers, the boy barely gives you any room to argue before he’s pushing you out of the doorway.

“But- my work”

“Could be done within the week remember? Not in one go.”

Before you could even argue, you’re flabbergasted to find yourself seated on a bus, on the way to some location that Chan would not tell you anything about. “We could’ve taken the car, Chan.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” He grins dimple popping out.

“Just remember we have to be back at seven before my driver arrives-”

“Yada-yada, we’ll be fine now let’s have some fun, my style, and my treat!” Chan gestures to the mall you’ve arrived at, giggling at your stunned expression.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Honestly, you’ve never ridden a bus, nor have you been to a mall, or arcade. These are all things you’ve seen in films and movies, living such a secluded life, your father would bust a vein to find out that you were here.

Though there’s a first for everything. It’s also been a while since you’ve had this much fun, laughing, and giggling at every little thing. You’re thankful to have released a little bit of stress, even for just a moment.

Chan even manages to win you a small whale plushie from the arcade. Though you probably think he could’ve saved by just buying you one from the shop across. It amazes you to see teenagers and kids just your age, littered across the mall, you had never thought to come to a place like this.

“Thanks for today.” You nudge him with your elbow, the plushie safely tucked underneath your armpit, digging into the vanilla ice cream you had gotten on the way home.

“Sure, but you’re treating me next time.” You halt, raising an eyebrow at the older boy.

“What do you mean next time?”

“Y/nnnnnn..” He drags your name in a whine. “Fun things are supposed to be done again, you can’t just live your life just swimming and going to school. We’re kids! We’re supposed to have fun and live life and make memories! That’s what life’s supposed to be! Alright?”

You should be living your childhood. Your mother’s voice pierces through your head, at Chan’s words, had this been what she meant?

“Hey. are you crying? Ya! Don’t cry” You hear Chan say something inaudible perhaps in Korean, as he frets over your crying figure, you see him pat himself down, hearing a small “aha!” before he’s reaching over to dry your tears with a handkerchief.

Softly patting down your cheeks, he sighs. “You don’t have to tell me, what’s wrong, but I’m right here, and I will always be.” He’s pulling you into a hug, you feel your body stiffen from the contact, surprised at the display of intimacy.

You don’t question why, but it feels warm and safe. Just like a cup of vanilla ice cream after a nice swim on the beach.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

“Hey, wake up, we’re here” a soft nudge pushes at your side, you hum in response, finding the boy’s shoulder comfortable.

Chan sighs, smiling at how comfortable you were with your head on his shoulder, cooing at your initiation of intimacy. It had taken you a few years before you were comfortable with any form of affection at all, putting two and two together to realize it must’ve had something to do with your family.

The young swimmer was well aware he was never obliged to fix you nor your situation despite his young age, but seeing you glow and smile at the different yet simple aspects of life that had been prohibited by your situation made him feel warm.

Ever since your first hug, albeit its awkwardness, you had become more receptive to little bits of physical affection and verbal affirmation. Chan smiling as recalled the first time you had initiated a hug, mindlessly throwing your arms around your best friend after he had gotten you a present for your birthday. Needless to say, you had become quite flustered at the realization of your actions.

Over the past few years, your father’s complaints about your friendship with Chan had lessened, seeing your continuous development in terms of grades and dedication. And despite being friends, the competitive fire within you had never ceased, holding on to that desire to beat Chan’s record.

The sun has set. You realize as you open your eyes, blinking out remnants of your drowsiness as you yawn. You’re raising your head from Chan’s shoulder when you realize his hand was extremely close to your face.

You’re jolting up in embarrassment before muttering, “Have I been drooling?” Quickly patting and wiping your lips for saliva.

“Uh, maybe, but it’s f-”

“Don’t you dare say it’s fine Christopher! Augh! This is embarrassing you should’ve woken me up!” You’re storming out of the car, cheeks warm in your flustered form.

Chan chuckles, how cute.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Ever since hearing of your newly found friend, your mother had continuously asked for you to bring Chan over. And since their meeting, your mother had continuously asked for the return of your polite and talented friend.

It amused you how your mother stated he was like an angel with his voice and good nature, well she wasn’t entirely wrong. Your mother had never shared anything about her life before her sickness, you knew that she had been an only child like you, and from the number of books and records on the shelf in her room, as well as the violin and record player on the side, her interests must’ve been aligned with those.

So when Chan had asked, “What’s your mother like?” You didn’t really know how you could respond to the question and before you know it the line of liking music and books had been stumbling out of your mouth.

Chan’s eyes had lit up at the mention of music, proceeding to ask which artist, what genre. Though with observant eyes, Chan could see your aura dim, he decides to drop the topic, he asks you about the latest Pokemon game. That had been the first time, you’d taken note of Chan’s interest in music.

Though it still surprises you when the day he meets your mother, he arrives with a fresh fruit basket and a ukulele.

He had smiled at your mother that day before he began strumming a soft melody you didn’t recognize. It takes him a while before he states that he had made the melody on his own, struggling to find the lyrics to suit them.

You remember your mother’s words; “It should come from here, whatever you do in life, ensure that your heart will beat for it.” She had said.

Your mother at times was an enigma, speaking in poetry that you struggled to decipher. Some days, you were envious when you’d see her with Chan, seemingly sharing a secret they wouldn’t let you in on. Chan would always seem to understand the puzzling lines she’d say.

It’s another afternoon to which your mother had invited Chan over, you’re both stepping into her room when you find her immersed in one of her classics, a thick leather bounded book, you’d be too terrified to try and read, without busting a vein.

She doesn’t look up, when she hears you two enter, she never does, and you know better than to disturb her amidst her reading. Though you admit that there’s this aura about your mother when she’s immersed in a book, it’s as if she takes a step into the world she’s reading about, escaping whatever pain she currently faces in reality.

It’s only until you set the peeled apples on the table next to her when she looks up. “How has your day been, love? Your father hasn’t been overworking you too much?” She sets the book and her glasses on her bedside table.

“I’m fine mum, Chan brought you some apples, and look they’re cut like bunnies.” She smiles as you offer a slice into her mouth, carefully biting onto it.

“That’s good to hear, Chan dear, my you’ve grown look how tall you’ve grown since I last saw you.” Your mother reaches to ruffle his curls.

“Mom you saw him last week-”

“Have I? really auntie!” You roll your eyes at the overly enthusiastic reply at the mention of his height.

A knock halts your conversation, the door opens to reveal your father’s secretary, she calls your name, stating that your father had called you into his office. You take one last look at Chan and your mother, letting them know that you’d be right back.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

Perhaps it’s the thick atmosphere of your father’s office, but at the sight of the envelope with its infamous school colors, it’s as if all the oxygen in the room had been sucked out.

Your father passes you the envelope, “Everything’s been settled, we can get you a flat there, or perhaps you’d like to live in their dorms. You start next semester, you can move after your graduation.-”

“Does mom know?”

“She does.”

“When had this been sent in?”

“Just last week, you really don’t need to worry about anything dear, be sure you graduate and get a good result on next week’s tournament.” Right graduation.

With all the exams you had recently finished as well as training it had completely slipped your mind that you were entering high school in two months.

You faintly recall a conversation you and Chan had after finding out about his interest in music. “(Y/n), What are you going to be when you grow up?” He had asked you during one of your trips to the ice cream parlor, digging into his salted caramel ice cream.

The question caught you off guard. What did you want to do? Eyes downcast you began to finding interest in the vanilla ice cream, as you picked at it. “I’ll probably continue swimming, that’s what my dad wants.”

“Yeah, that's what your dad wants, but what do you want? Like I want to do something with music! I want to use it as a platform to spread messages, to help people find comfort in music the way I do.” He had looked so bright, so gleeful, like a star so far and out of reach.

“Oh, that’s amazing Chris. Though I don’t know what I want to do.” How you wish you were just as passionate as Chan, wishing you could break through your comfort zone to chase after the one thing you loved the most.

“Then I’ll help you find something, something you’ll come to love the way I do with music.”Maybe at that time, I had found something to love, maybe I just didn’t know it yet. “But if you love swimming, then you’ll be the greatest swimmer in the world, you’ll be an Olympic medalist!” He raises his ice cream cup as a toast, you clink yours with him, smiling at how happy he looked.

Chan was your north star, no matter which direction the universe spun, he remained unwavering, shining bright and leading you to home, him, your comfort.

Dazed, you don’t realize you’ve been standing in front of your mother’s room until Chan opens the door, he yelps in shock at the sight of your deadpanned eyes.

He says something in Korean, clutching his heart at the unintentional scare. “You scared me, why are you standing there like some zombie.”

“Oops, sorry just a bit occupied.” Quickly hiding the envelope behind your back, something his eyes don’t miss. “Let’s go, dinner’s ready.”

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

After dinner you decide to take a walk to have some ice cream at the familiar parlor you frequented ever since becoming friends and after you had lost to him the first time you met.

Sitting down you both order, asking for your usual vanilla-flavored ice cream, Chan picks the mint chocolate chip, a special for the week. He’s silent all of a sudden, fixing you with a serious gaze as he takes in a deep breath. It made you uneasy suddenly as if whatever he would say next would change your fate.

And it did.

“Y/n remember when I said I wanted to make music?” He asks, fiddling with the spoon, nervous which was a rare sight for the charismatic boy.

You hum in response allowing him to continue. “Well, my parents and I made a deal, they would allow me to live in South Korea as a trainee, as long as I got into a good company. And well I got in, you’re now looking at the latest Australian trainee of JYP Entertainment. I'm leaving after the tournament next week!” He points to himself with his thumb, smiling and giddy to hear your response.

Korea as in Korea within Asia? That's 6828 kilometers away!

“(Y/n), are you alright? You’re not saying anything, there is something wrong.” Without noticing you had turned your head down, allowing your hair to create a curtain between you two. He reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ears and is surprised to be met by your tear-stained cheeks. “You’re crying.” He says, unsure of what to say and what made you upset. “Are you not happy I got in?”

“No, I'm happy! You’re finally getting what you dreamed of! You’re going to be amazing Chris. I’m crying because of how happy I am for you.” I’m going to be all alone. You’re going to be living 6828 kilometers away, in a foreign country when we barely turned 14. I’m going to be all alone. I want to be happy for you but why does this hurt so much? I’m going to be all alone.

You might as well tell him. “I’m moving, I got into Griffith so I’m moving into the dorms as well.”

“That’s huge! That place is a breeding ground for Olympians! That’s amazing! We’re both chasing after our dreams, after all. Congratulations Y/n.” It honestly didn’t feel like something to be happy of.

All will be alright, with time. We’ll be alright.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

The next following day came faster than expected you both tried to pretend he wasn’t leaving in the next few days, you tried to pretend that you’d still be able to see one another in the next few years and maybe the next few days. A sense of normalcy in the upcoming days of uncertainty. Neither of you had any idea what fate had in store for you both and you could only hope.

And soon enough the day of the tournament finally rolls around. You’re buzzing with excitement as you entered the building. Chan, on the other hand, was nervous at this being his last swim meet, he hoped to make this as memorable as possible. And though you never say it, Chan knew that deep down you loved swimming, no matter how much you tried to make it out that you only did it for your dad.

He sees you glow the moment you step into the pool, he knew you’re meant for this, to be up there with the pro athletes he too had admired. And as much as it hurt him to leave you, he’s stunned and in awe of how much stronger you’ve become.

He loved the confidence that you had as you walked into the competition hall, ignoring the curious gazes, and turning heads at the mention of your name. You have been destined to reign the competitive world of swimming, and he knew he wasn’t as good as you were to reign alongside you. He had accepted that a long time ago.

He walks with you to the locker room to prepare and change, trailing a few steps after you. Observing the looks of both younger and older swimmers in awe at the sight of you, your reputation in the sport was indeed something to uphold.

You turn to him gripping your gym bag tightly, which he had offered to carry but had been rejected along the lines of saying that you were a woman that could carry your belongings or something like that. “Well, I’ll see you later, wish me luck.” You raise your fist to him, initiating your signature good luck handshake before every competition. The handshake brought you a lot of reassurance and strength, taking away any worries you’d have.

You grin at him one last time, turning at your heels to enter the room, but before you take another step, he pulls you in for a hug, squeezing you tightly, your hands awkward by your sides, unsure of whether to hug him back. “You don’t need luck, go wreck them.”

You scoff at his words, finally deciding to wrap your arms around his shoulder. “Of course, see ya later Bangaroo.”

Up in the stands Chan observes you as you take your positions on the starting block, he smiles to himself as he sees you wearing the goggles and swim cap, he had given you during your last birthday. He had saved for it the whole year to surprise you with your favorite swimming brand. You had teared up at the gift, before smacking him for the times he had complained every time you invited him to the parlor.

He had never seen you wear the cap and goggles at practice, you had told him you had to save the luck for competitions. He had asked you to explain though you brushed off the statement by pushing him into the pool.

“It’s nice to see you here, isn’t this your last swim meet?” Chan blinks in surprise as the older man takes a seat beside him joining him to observe his daughter.

“Coach (L/n)..” Chan greets, unsure of what to say. Since, the knowledge of his rough treatment of his best friend, he had preferred not to stay too close to the older man, aware of his dislike for him.

“She’s still as amazing as ever.” Your father whispers in awe more to himself rather than Chan. “I was surprised you know, at her growth and development since your arrival. You’ve been an amazing push to her capabilities as a swimmer, that I have to admit.”

The older man stands up all of a patting him on the shoulder, “Well good luck, and thank you for giving her that push. Hug her for me later.” Chan’s surprised by the time your father leaves is just in time you finish the swim, realizing you had already won.

28.08 He gasps as he sees the scoreboard alongside your name. 28.08 You had broken his 50M Free record by a second, after years of competing and ice cream trips, you’ve finally done it. He sees you shocked as well, he meets your eyes, throwing you a thumbs up from the stands, grin highlighted by his dimples.

You looked radiant, a small voice in his head reassures him that he made the right choice., that you’d be alright. He starts heading toward the locker rooms to prepare. He’s stunned by your father’s words, he knows in his heart he made the right decision, and he knows he shouldn’t let this bother him, especially when he’s about to compete.

He steps into the starting block, slipping on his goggles, snapping them against the back of his head to erase any of his worries. Lastly, he’s putting on his swim cap. Taking deep even breaths, it’s his last swim. Chan wants to make this as memorable as possible.

He closes his palm clenching it, testing to see how shaky and nervous he was, only to see that it wasn’t that bad. His heart rate isn’t so accelerated either. They’re given the signals to take their positions. And Chan is surprised there are no unpleasant jitters in his stomach.

Chan reacts with the beep, kicking off the starting block and then diving into the waters, he feels the pull of gravity just as he surfaces to take his first breath. Rotating from his shoulders, he paces his breathing for the first lap to maintain his stamina. Though once he approaches the end, he gives a powerful kick to the touchpad turning as he accelerates. In the last lap, he pushes himself to go faster, erasing all thoughts and worries. He reminds himself that this is his specialty, the one style in swimming you couldn’t beat him at. He’s slipping his goggles and swim cap before he even realizes he won.

Chris places gold. And it feels exhilarating, he feels so happy he could cry. He sees you in the stands, grinning and he’s sure he mirrors your grin.

You’re taking a few pictures, not missing the chance to take matching iconic pics biting gold medals. A small voice at the back of your head asks what the odds of would be you two doing these pictures at a larger scale.

After dinner, which his parents had invited you to, you’re both walking to that ice cream parlor two blocks from his house. You’re chuckling as Chan waves his wallet, a show that he would be paying for the first time.

You smile as he hands you, your usual cup of vanilla-flavored ice cream. You’re now walking back to his house, soaking up the comfortable atmosphere trying to let the events that happened today sink in. Chan would be leaving tomorrow morning, and you’d be leaving in a few weeks as well.

“So, mister idol, are you excited?” Deciding to break the silence, nudging at him as his ears turn pink.

“A bit, it’s a huge leap, you know, absolutely knowing no one, I still have an accent when I speak in Korean it might sound weird, gosh I have to make friends and all that. But oh god, what if I can’t make any? What if I don’t debut? What if I just don’t cut it? Oh god, you’re not going to be there to treat me to ice cream, to binge on anime, treat me to food and ice cream. I just-” Chan pauses as his voice cracks, footsteps coming to a halt, “I’m just going to miss Australia so so much.”

You find yourself gaping, as you see the taller boy crumble. Between the two of you, it had always been you to be the emotional one, the crybaby, on the other hand, Chan had always been your rock and your shoulder to cry on no matter the situation. Seeing him cry pulled at your heartstrings, soon enough you’re throwing your arms around him, rubbing circles into his back.

“You’re going to be fine, Chris, you’ll be amazing, and if any of them starts anything with you, I’m booking a flight to kick their arse.” Pulling away from the hug, you cup his cheeks, wiping his tears for the first time in your friendship.

Knowing how worried he was with all the changes, it was your turn to be his rock, after all the times he had been yours. Chris was amazing no matter what he was doing, whether it was sitting in class paying attention to a math problem, or asking for your opinion on his swimming, or just talking to you. He was meant to be amazing.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring at him until. “Are you going to miss me?”

You sigh at his red-rimmed eyes, endeared at his sniffles. “Of course, I am, I care about you a lot, what makes you think I wouldn’t, you better not forget me when you’re all famous. I’m just a bit disappointed we’re going our separate ways, we’ve been through a lot, you’ve been there for me no matter what, I’m grateful for meeting you, Chris.” It takes you a while to realize that you’re tearing up.

“I’m really really going to miss you, Chris. It’s going to be different not swimming with you anymore, not going to the parlor to get ice cream, teasing you for how much you eat, letting me win video games, who’s going to teach me math!? If I weren’t good at swimming the teachers wouldn’t be so patient with me!” You struggle to hold back your tears, deciding to reach up and hide your face in the crevice of his neck and shoulder, squeezing him in reassurance.

Chan fixes his arms around your waist, returning the hug, “We’re going to be fine, so long as that no matter what you do, make sure it comes from here, you’ll be alright, we’ll be alright, you’re stronger than ever. Don’t you ever let anyone take that from you, okay? I have something for you. Can you close your eyes?”

With your eyes shut, you can feel Chan’s hands around your neck, you can feel his soft breathing, and the soft click of a clasp. “You can open them.” You gasp at the sight of the pretty mermaid tail that sat on the crevice of your collar bones.

“You were meant for this Y/n. You radiate and glow when you swim, you’re going to do amazing.” Chan presses a soft kiss into your forehead, a reminder of how much taller he’s grown. “I have something else for you tomorrow, but that’s a surprise for you tomorrow, I’ll give it to you at the airport tomorrow, okay?” He presses another kiss into your cheek, wiping the few tears that had escaped.

Soon enough, you’re on your way back home, the previously comforting silence disrupted by distant yet ear-splitting sirens, you pay it no mind until you notice how it sounds closer as you near your house.

You’re gasping at the sight of the bright blue and red lights, frozen still as you see paramedics roll your mother out of the house. Everything blurs as you’re pushed and ushered here and there, calls of your name passing through the other ear.

As everything goes dark.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

“I’m sure it was just fatigue.” In and out of consciousness, you found it difficult to determine which parts of it were real, and which weren’t.

“Mom?” Fluttering your eyes open, you were surprised to see a bright white interior, contrasting the blue hues of your room in your house.

“Y/n?” Turning towards the voice, you’re met by your nanny’s worried eyes, as she hovers a damp towel to your forehead. “You’re in the hospital dear, you passed out after we fetched you last night, your mother I’m afraid, she doesn’t have much time left.”

“Where is she-” You’re rushing to stand, wincing in pain when you realize that you have an IV attached to you. “Bring me to her.”

The nanny struggles to aid you in your haste, pushing the IV behind your quick steps. Luckily your mother had been in the room next to you, had it been any further your legs would have given up.

The soft hum and consistent beeps of machines echoed throughout your mother’s room; the sharp scent of antiseptics clouded your thinking. Your father stands from the side of her bed, you’re surprised when he meets you at the door, softly telling the nanny to leave as he takes your hand in his, guiding your IV in the process.

He quietly helps you up into your mother’s bed, who’s surprisingly awake, and smiles at the sight of you. You can feel tears well up, your heart heavy as you take in her figure, engraving it to your heart. She still wears the blue and white scarf atop her head, something you had given her after receiving your first allowance as an athlete.

You don’t realize you’re shaking as you reach to caress her cheek, carefully avoiding the wires attached to her. She holds your hand to her cheek, appreciating the warmth you brought. “Hello love, I heard you passed out, are you doing alright?”

You could only nod in response, your chest heavy as tears began to drip into the white sheets of her bed. “Now listen to me love, you are the sun, you are my sun, and I know I haven’t been there that much to show you all the love you deserve, but I do love you. You are the sun that brought me warmth in that cold room of mine, you are the light that beams when you step into the room. Don’t you ever let anyone dim your light.”

She carefully pulls you into her chest, rubbing small patterns into your back, in an attempt to soothe the shaking of your chest. “You’re going to be alright, love, live the life you love, and everything will be alright. Mom loves you so much, you're so amazing you should know that. I might not be a part of your bigger achievements, your ups and downs in life, falling in love, and all that. Though I do hope you find someone, who’d be there until the end, someone to hold your hand in this dark and empty world. Though I want you to remember that you are beyond your medals, I will still love you no matter what you choose to do in life, alright? I will forever be proud to be your mother-” Her voice dwindles as she trails off, her arm dropping from behind your back, as her breath stills in the process.

The room goes up in flames as everything begins to beep loudly, you could do nothing but sob harder as you cling to your dying mother. The next few minutes are a blur, in the chaos, you feel someone pull you from your mother’s chest as the room floods with medical personnel.

It takes you a while to realize that it’s your father who holds you, turning you away from your mother’s figure as you continue to sob, unable to say anything but cry. The word I love you lingers on the tip of your tongue, regret weighing heavily on your chest.

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

You hadn’t realized you had passed out once more, eyes adjusting to bright hospital lights as everything feels numb. You’re surprised to see your father passed out on the chair next to your bed, eyes swollen and sunken with everything that had happened.

Feeling a bit parched, you reach for the water bottle that had supposedly been there, but instead, you find a small iPod and some earphones. Chan’s unique penmanship on the iPod catches your eye, intrigued, you reach for it.

Another strike of guilt threatens to pull at your heartstrings, of the realization that you had missed his flight. “The Bangs came by the house to drop that off, they mentioned that Chris had wanted to give you this before his flight.” Your father blinks sleep out of his eyes, stretching before he leaves the room.

It takes you a while to untangle the earphones before you plug them in the iPod with a soft click before you wear them. The small square weighs heavy on your hand as you press play.

“Hello, Y/n!” You jump a bit at the loudness of Chan’s voice quickly adjusting the volume.

“Since that fateful day where you saved me from the bullies, I have forever been in your debt. Kidding! “You roll your eyes amused as he continues talking.

“Well not really, but honestly Y/n you have played a huge role not only in my development as a swimmer but as well as a friend. You had been someone I wanted to protect from all the cruel things in this world, had I not met you I wonder if I would’ve had any friends here.” Says the social butterfly, yeah right Christopher.

“I really wished it hadn’t been this way,” I wish it hadn’t been this way either.

“We had a good run Y/n, I am forever grateful to have met you. Now I don’t have much to say, but in a few minutes, a song will play. It’s a song I made. It's something your mom helped put together. I do hope you enjoy this little gift from us, and please do give her a hug in my stead. I do hope you like this song, and may you continue to shine as you take on the professional world of swimming! With love, Your Bangaroo” With everything that has happened, you don’t really feel disappointed or sad with your best friend’s decision, maybe a bit of regret from the lack of time, but all you could do is hope that time and faith would not be so cruel once more.

Chan’s voice fades out as a soft melody of piano notes begins to play, your heart warms as Chan’s voice begins to sing.

“And take, take her to the moon for me

Take her like you promised me

Say you love her every time like how you told me the last time”

You could understand why your mother had told you that Chan was like your guardian angel. Albeit a bit of an exaggeration for a boy your age, but his soft and giving nature had been your source of comfort and happiness throughout middle school and for that, you will forever be grateful.

“Someday I know we'll meet again

In heaven by the rainbow's end

And I only wish you happiness

Until we meet again”

𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂

#inkidz #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan fic #bang chan imagines #swimmer! bang chan #idol! bang chan #swimmer! reader #childhood friends to lovers

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inosukeslefttoe · 3 years

Photo

SO i just finished wonder egg priority and i think that with confidence i can say it has been one of my favorite animes like... ever ?? and not even from hyperfixation or obsession over it just... its so fucking real yet so simple in a way that i havent rlly seen shown in any other shows you feel ??

but first i wanna talk about how sexy the art and animation is real quick... HOMIE ITS SO GOOD LIKE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT JUST... serotonin... the characters are all so unique and iconic and fun but not over the top in their designs yknow ??? they seem like regular every day girls but they stand out and theyre all sO CUTE !!!! also i love how the style is like this soft bubbly slice of life lookin stuff with bright happy colors and the most beautiful scenes you could find but they also have the SICKEST fight scenes complete with whimsical animal helpers and terrifying villains and crazy weapons unique to each character. and the animation. god DAMN shawty i am obsessed with everything in this show. i might make a post solely about the art later lol bc i wanna get into the other stuff.

so the themes in the show right ?? it starts just as this cute lil magical girl kinda deal but within the first episode we see that like.. oh damn... thats kinda heavy... tbh i was a little shocked and thought about stopping bc yknow bad mental health BUT i was so intrigued that i had to keep going and i am SO GLAD that i did. because this show just so beautifully discusses all these heavy topics in such an eloquent and artistically expressive way. and also like, , the juxtaposition of the charming childlike vibe with bright colors and 14 yr old girl protagonists against the dark themes of suicide and so much else,, i think is just perfect. bc a lot of heavy animes are more of the seinen genre and have some middle aged dude as a protag or make the entire color palette dim or offer little relief to the pain of these heavy themes right ?? but NO not wonder egg bitches B) because these problems arent just things that ppl face later in life or just problems that need to be talked about among adults or the edgy seinen watching squad,, these are REAL problems that face people of every age, gender etc and i think its awesome that wonder egg addresses that. some may cringe at the thought of their high schooler watching animes that discuss sexual harassment, suicide, abuse, self harm, eating disorders etc,, but in reality it is the most comforting thing i have ever come across and is basically jsut free anime therapy. because not only does wonder egg present these themes to the viewers as something real that happens to all kinds of people (making said people feel heard in a way that maybe they hadnt before), but it also makes sure to vanquish all of these forms of trauma. and the way the trauma is vanquished isnt always beautiful and it isnt always just magically gone with a poof. the struggles of overcoming or living with that sort of thing are shown in such a real and relatable way that addresses every hardship trauma survivors have to go through. and i just. god i cry bro.

oh m y GOD and the lgbtq+ rep in this show ?? like shawty... as soon as i saw episode one i was picking up on some gay/lesbian themes but then again im sapphic and project that a lot so i tend to see that sort of stuff like... everywhere... but NE WAYS... episode ten made me FUKCING CRY BRO LIke i cant believe there was a whole trans character with a whole trans pride hoodie like LKGHKDGH my heart is just so.. so fucking full thinking about him. bc like yeah i know there are trans characters in anime but i feel like theyre always very ambiguous about actually being trans or not or erased or portrayed as a harmful stereotype or theyre constantly misgendered and still refered to as their assigned gender at birth and i hate it. HOWEVEr... Kaoru.. *chefs kiss* it was so amazing to see a character straight up say “yeah im trans” in such a casual yet powerful way bc i personally have never seen that before. and i love love loved how he went into his backstory and talked to momoe about gender bc i think thats what she rlly needed and that it helped her find herself and it makes me so happy oh my god,, and the way they talked about it never seemed forced or like it was the focal point of his existence yknow ?? like yeah he existed to help momoe overcome some of her trauma but he also just existed to be HIM yknow ?? also... personally, i headcanon momoe as a trans girl even though i dont remember it being explicitly stated plus the school scenes of her and stuff would seem like they suggest otherwise ??but,,, SHAWTY THE AMOUNT OF SUBTEXT and her complicated relationship w gender is... something i feel like a cis girl would not go through so harshly yknow ?? with all of the questioning and feeling detached from femininity or feeling like ppl dont see her as an actual girl and only like her as a guy or for her masculine traits,,, but dont take my word on this bc i myself am a cis girl but that was just my take on it as someone in the lgbtq+ community trying to educate myself on the transgender community :) either way,, wonder eggs portrayal of momoe and kaoru and the way that momoe becomes so passionate about expressing herself the way she wants to as a girl is just... good lord im gonna cry its so perfect,,,.so ... i just love this show way too much. i also am honestly super lost about the relationship btwn acca and ura-acca ?? bc i was gonna mention ura-acca as a canonically gay guy bc when i was watching i interpreted ep 11 as him being in love with acca and being jealous of Azusa (bc i mean,, they lived together (i swear to god there was only one bed in that apartment) and had a daughter together and def loved each other and also when Frill said they were husbands and then when ura-acca said he wasnt attracted to azusa but he was def jealous of their relationship ??) but then i saw somewhere that theyre brothers ?? which would make sense ig since they look kinda similar and accas daughter called ura-acca “uncle”.. but at the same time its ANIME SO THEY ALL LOOK SIMILAR and referring to gay couples as siblings is an EXTREMELY common euphemism soooo... IM JUST LOST HERE... but yeah i tried doing research and found different things so i cant say anything for sure >:( however,,, if they are canonically a lil fruity for each other... when frill refered to acca as ura-accas husband i imploded dude you never hear that sort of wording in anime.. but if theyre related i am so sorry.

god this is so much longer than i planned it to be oops but i also love the theme about like.. relying on friends to help carry your weight but at the same time not becoming completely dependent on those friends and using their support to learn how to love yourself and rely on yourself yknow ?? bc that is exactly what healthy friendships look like. bc i think ai sort of had a codependency thing goin on with koito maybe ?? but now she has a whole squad of funky friends that are so so different but all struggle with different kinds of trauma and although they fight over it, they always get through it with each other together. and they push each other no matter what to be the best versions of themselves and they teach other that getting hurt is okay because theyre always gonna be there to pick up the pieces no matter what happens. they can give each other space when they need and adapt to meet each others needs but theyre always able to balance it out with their own needs and thats such a beautiful thing in friendships especially at their age like damn i wish i had that maturity when i was 14 but no all i had was depression. another thing is that through these friendships you get to see all the different sides of each girl; you get to see them being strong or a shining light to their friends when theyre hurting but you also get to see them being hurt and weak and allowing themselves to be on the receiving end of the comfort. their friendships allows them to have weaknesses but it also allows them to highlight their strengths and thrive off of each others. I LOVE FRIENDSHIP DUDE

next i wanna briefly mention some of the themes connected to suicide that ive noticed. a big one is the survivors guilt that ai feels once koito is dead. several times she screams that she wishes she couldve gone with koito and she dreams of a “perfect world” where they committed a double suicide. one of the main reasons for her troubles is that she blames herself for koitos death and feels like it should be her thats dead... but at the same time she feels like too much of a coward to do anything now that koito is gone. she just has all these complex and contradicting feelings that wear away at her in ways that ppl that havent gone through the suicide of a loved one could never imagine. a lot of the times when things like this are portrayed in media i feel like its more in a way thats meant to guilt trip those that have taken their own lives and paint suicide as this selfish sin thats unforgivable but... not only does wonder egg reject that idea and instead portray it as a heartbreaking tragedy with,,, so so many terrible reasons, but it focuses on the feelings of ai separate from koito without blaming her in any way. not once did i feel like the show antagonized koito or that ai blamed koito for doing any of this, but they simply mourned her loss and touched on ais reaction towards the event but separate from koito herself if that makes sense. and i think that discussing survivors guilt without painting koito as the bad guy is something so beautifully done in wonder egg that can really resonate with those that have lost a loved one to suicide and have struggled with these same things.

okay i think this is the last thing ill mention,,, but HOMIE THE PARALLEL UNIVERSE BIT AT THE END. I AM. OBSESSED. i am such a whore for anything about the multiverse okay n e ways...,, not only did this make a super epic trippy ending of season one and add a little bit more magical girl whimsy to the show,, but it had such a powerful message. from the perspective of og ai,, finding out that you killed yourself in another world is... i mean its definitely not a surprise but at the same time it rlly makes you think how close og ai herself couldve been to that point and what decisions led her out of that dark place in her life. if i were in her shoes i would be terrified and id cry bc the thought of going back to such a dark place and actually going through with something like that is my worst fear and probably something that ai fears too. but at the same time,,, think from the perspective of ai two !!! like yeah its true that theres this awful terrible version of ai that dies but theres also a whole version of ai that is a superhero magical girl fighting off monsters to save countless ppls lives !! and she has a badass lizard and a gang of awesome friends !!! at first i was worried that ai two would be jealous of og ai and compare herself to her and feel inferior but like.. THEYRE LITERALLY THE SAME PERSON AND CAPABLE OF THE SAME THINGS !!! and ai two realized that !! just within the span of one episode, she went from the version of ai who took her life,, to the version of ai jumping in front of a friend to take a bullet for them and save their life. and that just inspired THE SHIT OUT OF ME. i think that ai was sent another version of herself to sort of beat her own worst enemy yknow ?? those doubts and fears that shes no good or that shes that same bystander from episode one and that she hasnt changed at all. but getting to interact with her parallel self and see her grow was just what she needed to realize that while yeah sometimes the worst thing can happen and things can be terrible but on the other hand sometimes the most wonderful thing imaginable can happen because she has the power to do either.

so im gonna go ahead and stop rambling bc i got all my thoughts out that i wanted to for this post :D but yeah lol i might make another if i feel like it sometime. long story short: this show is perfect and it is going on my favorite of all times.

#wonder egg priority #wonder egg spoilers #ai ohto #rika kawai #momoe sawaki #wonder egg priority neiru #i forgot neirus name #anime review #wonder egg ai #lgbtq anime

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mrs-han · 3 years

Text

I’ve Got You

Deep breaths didn't help. You fidgeted with your fingers, eventually pulling at the skin around your nailbeds and creating hangnails.

"Hey." Jumin pressed himself against you, grabbing your hands and kissing your fingers. "Talk to me."

"I'm nervous," you sighed, craning your neck towards the entrance. "It's been ten minutes, and he's still using the bathroom?"

Jumin smiled softly, weaving his fingers through yours and kissing your knuckles. "Your father is an elderly man. I already sent someone to assist him if need be, but keep that in mind."

Your flitting eyes finally rested on your husband... your husband. You had just gotten married to this beautiful man, the man of your dreams...

And here you were, anxious about your father.

"I'm sorry... this is our day," you smiled, resting your hand on Jumin's cheek and pecking his lips. "How rude of me to have another man on my mind."

"How rude indeed," Jumin teased, grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a richer, deeper kiss.

"Mr. Han?"

Jaehee's voice rang through your ears - and made Jumin groan despairingly.

Stop, you mouthed, gently patting Jumin's thigh and turning your head towards Jaehee. "What's up?"

Jaehee cleared her throat. "I hope I'm not getting in the way of any important conversations -"

"You are," Jumin spoke candidly, his finger pointedly tapping against the table.

"Jumin," you frowned. "Go ahead, Jaehee."

"... Right. Well. The father-daughter dance is starting soon, but we can't seem to find your father, MC."

"He's in the restroom," you nodded. "He should be out in a minute."

"All right," Jaehee grinned. "I'll make the announcement."

You flashed her a genuine yet apologetic smile. "Thank you, Jaehee."

"Are you all right?" Jumin hummed, his voice dripping with concern.

"I can't shake these nerves," you giggled, embarrassed. "Once I see my dad, everything will be better."

Jumin stood from his seat and pressed his soft lips to your forehead. You closed your eyes, reveling in the warmth of his kiss - of his love.

"Go on," Jumin encouraged, his hand on your lower back. "Get ready."

You took another deep breath and swallowed the lump in your throat. Pushing your skirts back and tucking tendrils of your hair behind your ears, you eagerly fumbled with your fingers and gave a slight nod towards Jaehee, who had taken her place on the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," her voice rang. "Please clear the dance floor for the father-daughter dance."

A soft song resounded through the room as you watched your guests move delicately to their seats. You had waited your whole life for this. So what if your relationship with your father had been complicated? Tonight, all of that would be washed away as he permanently surrendered you to your husband... your Jumin.

Placing your hands over your fluttering chest, you looked up. Your father still wasn't there. Was he still in the bathroom? He wasn't as old as he looked. Your father was fit for his age and healthy besides. What was taking him so long... where was he?

A figure moved quickly from the entrance towards Jumin, stooping and whispering into his ear.

Jumin's expression immediately changed... but you couldn't read him. For the first time since you've known him, you couldn't understand what your husband was expressing. Jumin's eyes reached yours, trying to convey to you what was going on... but you stood clueless.

The guests whispered amongst themselves as Jumin stood from his seat. Without so much as adjusting his vest or jacket, he made a beeline straight towards you.

"Jumin..." you whispered, blinking back your tears.

Ever the gentleman, Jumin bowed... took your hand in his... and held you close.

"What's going on?" You whispered. "Where is my father?"

Jumin's brows lowered. Now that his eyes were closer to yours, you could see exactly what he was trying to express - anguish.

"No way," you muttered. "He's... he left?"

Jumin put his hand on the back of your head, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry, my darling."

Your breath hitched, the lump in your throat growing. All you wanted to do was run somewhere, anywhere. You were too aware of your relationship with your father and how tumultuous it had been through the years. Still, through it all... through all the physical and emotional abuse, through the years of drug addiction, through all the false promises... you never imagined him abandoning you. Not today.

You could no longer hear the music as your body shook. Your vision narrowed, and your fingertips whitened as you clutched tightly onto Jumin's arms.

"Look at me," Jumin spoke, his voice slicing through your thin emotional walls. "Eyes on me, dearest. I've got you, now. I've got you."

You shut your eyes tightly, tears running through your mascara and foundation.

Jumin's strength kept you on your feet. "I'm here. You can dance with me anytime, anywhere... you won't ever have to question my devotion to you, my love... my wife..."

"He's gone," you sobbed silently, fingers curling over the fabric of Jumin's jacket.

"I'm so sorry." Jumin pressed two, three, four kisses to your forehead and cupped your cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

Leaning your head on his chest, you wailed as silently as you could. Jumin guarded your face against the crowd of onlookers, his arms a fortress for you to hide and rest in. He crooned a soft melody... different from the chaos in your ear and the music in the background, jerking you to attention.

"I just want to see how... beautiful you are."

You finally dared to lift your head... and the good, sweet eyes of your husband greeted you.

"Jumin..."

"Where you go, I follow, no matter how far." he grinned, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

Sniffling, you pressed your shaking hands to his cheek and pulled him down, touching his forehead to yours.

"I've got you now." Jumin encircled his arms around you, once again protecting you from the soft chatter and sympathetic glances. "I've got you."

#mystic messenger #jumin han #mein schatz #jumin x mc #Ouu I love that dress but you won't need it anymore ~

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

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I don’t know if you’re still doing asks for the advent calendar. But just wondering if you could do a Ben x Reader x Present!Roger, where Ben and reader are the subs for Rog and he is hard!dom and they’re getting punished but at the end it’s super fluffy with my fav poly relationship. Idk if this makes since and I hope you could be comfortable with writing this! Btw love your writing! ❤️❤️

Oh i absolutely love this prompt and honestly i can’t think of a better way to end this thing than with a rog x ben threesome!!

Warnings: smut, spanking, edging/orgasm denial, sir kink, dom! rog, sub! ben, sub! reader, collars, a tiny bit of hair pulling, overstimulation, minor mentions of oral sex (m and f receiving), there’s also a bit where rog steps on reader, also its like 4k lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 25

It had been natural to let Roger take the lead, so to speak, in your relationship. Even in the early days, there’d never really been a question about you submitting to Roger. For one thing, you trended towards submissive anyway but something about Roger, the way he carried himself, automatically made you want to kneel before him. Age probably had something to do with it too. There was a perceived expertise because he was older (and as he frequently joked, wiser too), that had you agreeing to call him Sir and to follow his instructions, even within the first few weeks of getting together. Normally you’d wait a while before jumping into anything especially kinky with someone new, and to be fair he hadn’t rushed into bringing out the harder stuff, but it was almost shameful how fast you’d let him toy with you, agreeing to wear a collar to symbolise your submission. You’d well and truly established your dom/sub relationship before you’d agreed to consider each other boyfriend and girlfriend, (His age may have been a hinderance there, the word boyfriend not often associated with someone like him) so when Ben first met you, he assumed something entirely different. Roger had invited him around for dinner, with the added intention of being able to talk drums for as long as they wanted. Ben had shook your hand and made a comment that implied he thought you were Roger’s niece or grand daughter or something along those lines and before you’d been able to correct him he was caught up in a discussion with Roger about one of the songs he had to play in the movie. You left them too it, shrugging Ben’s assumption off. If you were going to date a man in his seventies then you had to be prepared for people to think you were connected by blood or else that you were in it for the money. Neither was true but it’s what people would think and there was no reason to get upset about it. Ben’s impression was re-evaluated later that day when he’d wandered away from the drum kit to find Roger and walked in on him giving you a quick edge. As soon as he realised Ben was there Roger apologised.

“Oh, that’s um, no, uh, no need for that,” Ben stuttered out, “I just thought, but, uh, I was obviously wrong,”

“Family or sugar baby?” Roger asked curiously.

“Family. Then sugar baby when I saw your hand up her skirt.” Ben seemed to realise what he’d said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“She’s my girlfriend actually,” Roger turned his head to smile at you, “I would have said so but we’ve really only just started telling people so it kind of slipped my mind that I could,”

“No worries, um, I’ll leave you to it and just go try out that bit on the drums again.” Ben turned and walked back down the hallway as quickly as he could, Roger chuckling softly as he kissed the top of your head.

“How would you feel if I invited Ben to have sex with us?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m not saying I definitely will but…he’s been looking at you a lot this afternoon. I figured he was probably trying to work out who you were to me but if he assumed family he might have been checking you out.”

“You think?” you asked, trying to keep your tone level. Ben was fit and you wouldn’t have minded him making a pass at you, even if you’d had to turn him down.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, see if I can work it out, but would you be okay with that? If he joined us?”

“That sounds kind of fun,”

“Alright then, I’ll feel him out and see if I can’t convince him to stay the night.”

Over the course of the afternoon and evening Roger used every trick in his book to determine Ben’s attraction to you, and if he’d be interested in a threeway, steadily getting less and less subtle. By the time dinner had been eaten just about all delicacy was out the window.

“Look, sorry again about earlier,” Roger said, passing Ben a scotch and soda, “I’ve been edging Y/N a bit today because I’m planning on fucking her rotten tonight and I want her dripping wet and ready to beg for it,”

You weren’t sure whether you or Ben was more embarrassed by that but Roger didn’t seem to notice.

“Not that I really need too because she’s got, well let’s call it a very healthy sex drive. Edging her keeps her in her place and makes sure she knows I’m the one who controls if and when she gets an orgasm, but honestly she’s ready to go whenever I ask. I could tell her to strip right now and she would.”

“Is that right?” Ben said despite himself. His eyes darted about the room, not knowing where to look, but his tone was curious.

“She’s very obedient. If you wanted I could tell her to suck you off and it would take literally two seconds for her to be on her knees.”

Ben audibly gulped, his face beyond pink.

“Should I tell her to do that Ben?”

“Umm,”

“I think she’d like it if you joined us tonight. She does think you’re fit.”

“J-joi-join you?”

“We can set up one of the spare rooms for you if you want to stay. I might even see about lending her to you for the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, hypothetically, if you did stay, we’d share her for a bit, make up for all those edges I gave her. Then afterwards you could take her off to another bed and have her as many times as you wanted while I got a good nights sleep. Twice this week she’s wanted me in the middle of the night, it’d be nice to let someone else deal with her instead. Of course, there would be a few ground rules but they’re easy enough.”

“Like what?”

“Oh well, you can take her raw if you like but we’d prefer you not to finish in her cunt. Anywhere else is fine though. Obviously safewords are a must and limits have to be respected, hers, yours and mine. And you do need to understand that I’m in charge. She submits to me, she calls me Sir and she wears a collar for me. We both enjoy it, we both get off on it, and we expect anyone who joins us to understand that.”

“I understand,” Ben nodded.

“Does that mean you want to stay?”

“Yes.”

Roger had grinned and turned to you, “Well, why don’t you give our guest a proper welcome.”

Ben fit in better than you might have assumed he would. It had been natural for you to submit and apparently Ben felt the same. That first night he constantly looked to Roger for guidance and permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or do something that would bring the night to an end. As you’d sucked Ben’s cock Roger had commanded you both, telling you when to deepthroat him and when to come up for air, telling him to grab your hair or push you down further. After that he’d suggested Ben repay you and walked him through edging you with just his fingers, teaching him the signs of your impending orgasm so he could stop it at the last second. And when you did finally make it to the bedroom, he’d told you both how to position yourselves, giving instructions and making demands as you’d been filled by both of them. Ben joined you in calling Roger Sir, giving up control as fully as you did. When Roger suggested edging Ben himself, Ben didn’t object. He dropped his eyes and bit his lip and whined prettily as Roger stroked his cock carefully, always stopping short. Afterwards he’d been rewarded, as Roger had promised he would be, with you as company in his bed. Mostly you’d stayed up talking, Ben curiously asking questions about your relationship with Roger and how it had come about. He was most intrigued by the dominant and submissive dynamics, how it worked and how you’d felt adding an extra person to it. Of course, you’d made sure it wasn’t all talk. Ben was hot and Roger expected him to fuck you so there was no harm in it. Besides, you knew Roger would call you a good girl if you were obedient and took Ben however he wanted. Ben seemed to like that aspect of your reasoning too. He didn’t want to disappoint Roger by not using you and the chance of being called a good boy for it was motivation enough.

You’d expected it to be a one night thing but a couple of weeks later Roger had extended Ben another invitation to dinner. Things went in much the same direction, only Ben had fallen asleep in the bed you shared with Roger rather than taking a spare for himself and the next morning had offered a repeat performance of the night before. It was the same the next time Ben came for dinner and the time after that. On the sixth time you all gave up the pretext of dinner. Ben arrived earlier in the afternoon and Roger greeted him with the order to strip, which he did without question. The next morning Roger, pleased with Ben, made a suggestion that it become more official, and offered him a collar identical to yours.

“You can say no, of course,”

Ben hadn’t even hesitated before he picked up the collar and fitted it around his throat. You’d helped him with the clasp at a look from Roger who’d then ordered you both to suck him off. From then on it became a much more regular thing. For the most part both you and Ben would submit to Roger, gradually showing Ben harder things like spankings and restraints and all the fun stuff. Sometimes Roger would just sit back and watch Ben have his way with you and sometimes he’d disappear with Ben while you were busy or not in the mood. When Roger was called overseas unexpectedly Ben stayed with you. Roger asked for photos and videos and you delighted in sending him pictures of hickeys and scratches you gave each other as well as videos of each of you edging or Ben’s cock sliding in and out of your cunt, your moans in the background. Of course, the shifts in your sexual relationships also impacted your non-sexual relationships. Ben was important to you and Roger. He wasn’t just someone you hooked up with, he was part of things. When you redecorated the kitchen, Ben helped pick out the colours and when Roger wanted someone to listen to the first demo of a new song he’d written, Ben was there to give feedback. He was an extra shoulder to lean on, an extra pair of hands when there was chores to be done, and extra person to spend time with. But even with all the changes, your sexual dynamic remained the same. Roger was in charge. And that was how he liked it. Especially when he got to punish one or both of you.

Not that his punishments were ever really punishments. Once he’d come home from a weekend trip, expecting a clean house only to find the kitchen covered in rubbish and dirty dishes while you and Ben giggled away under the covers upstairs. He’d got very stern and made you both write lines. I will complete my chores before I have sex one hundred times each. But for the most part his punishments were actually fun, if a little painful. Spanking and orgasm denial and bondage, things that you could get off on, and always for small misdemeanours like poking your tongue out at him or going over an edge before you had permission. Because you and Ben enjoyed giving up control so much, your slight bratty tendencies generally just signalled a desire to be pushed or for something a little harder than what he was giving you. When one of you acted out without involving the other he’d let them help with the punishment, giving you both an outlet for any of your slightly more dominant inclinations. But more often than not you’d wind up being punished together.

On one such occasion, you and Ben had started teasingly referring to Roger as Mr Softie within his hearing after he’d dripped ice cream on his shirt. He’d smiled and laughed along but that evening he’d got back at you, using your collars to chain you to the desk in his office, your hands bound in cuffs in front of you. For a while he left you there, just out of reach of each other, wondering what he had in store. The silence was broken every so often by one of you making a quiet suggestion as to what he might do to you or wondering when he’d return, the anticipation building with each passing minute. Your heart pounded in your chest but you only grew wetter as you were forced to wait and Ben seemed to be in a similar predicament, his pants getting steadily tighter. Finally, Roger returned, ignoring you as he placed a paddle and a vibrator down on the desk you were tied to. Without acknowledging you he unclasped Ben’s collar, giving it a tug to make Ben crawl toward the couch set up at the other end of the room.

“Sir?” Ben asked as he reached the couch, looking up at Roger from his place on the floor.

“Up on the couch. Face down. Now.”

Ben jumped to follow the direction, settling with his face pressed against one cushion, his knees resting on the other, and his hips as high in the air as he could comfortably manage.

“Right,” Roger said, turning back to the desk and continuing to ignore you, “It seems you need to be taught a lesson about respect. And I think the fastest way to teach you is to spank your arse raw. Maybe a few days of not being able to sit down will be a strong enough reminder that I own you and you will respect me.” As he talked, Roger retrieved the paddle and tapped it against his hand, just loud enough that Ben could hear, his whimpers rising as he waited for the first strike. You watched as Roger stalked towards Ben, raised his arm and brought it down hard on Ben’s arse, the shocked cry that escaped Ben almost enough to have you whining yourself. Roger didn’t pause, just lay three or four hits on Ben, each one hard enough that Ben tried to wriggle away and the sound cut through the mostly quiet room. Suddenly Roger reached for Ben’s cock, stroking his already hard member before laying another few spanks on him. Ben made a mixture of sounds, some of pain and some of pleasure but all of them egged Roger on as he edged Ben and turned his arse a dappled purple wherever the paddle struck.

“How does that feel slut? Does it hurt?” Roger’s tone shifted to one of mock whining and back in a matter of seconds, “that whore’s going to be in for it too since it was her idea to disrespect me.”

Ben howled as another few spanks hit him, tears getting lost in the cushion of the couch, but you could see how his hips jolted with every light touch to his dick and how he twitched when Roger retracted his hand.

You’d lost count of how many edges and spanks Ben had received by the time Roger hooked two fingers into the collar, using his grip to pull Ben up higher, “Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson or should I keep teaching you?”

Ben shook his head, eyes still watery and voice more of a sob, “no more, please, I understand,”

“I’m very happy to hear that. Do you think you should be allowed to cum now?”

“Yes please Sir,”

“Yeah? You think I should stop being mean and wank you off already?”

Ben nodded.

“Okay then Benny. But only if she manages to hold out.”

Ben whimpered but nodded, falling to his side.

Roger gently stroked his fingers through Ben’s with a few quiet words of praise before he turned to you. Just like with Ben, Roger unchained you and then made you crawl to the couch. It was awkward with your arms bound but you didn’t dare sit up straighter to walk on your knees, that would only leader to a harder punishment. When you reached the couch Roger stopped you, telling you to turn around and get into the same position Ben had been in, your face against the carpet and your arse in the air. The only difference was that you remained on the floor, your arse facing Ben. The first spank took you by surprise. You’d been so concerned with your position and wondering how closely Ben was watching that you’d forgotten what was coming. It was followed by another three in rapid fire, the paddle thwacking you with such force that you jolted forward each time.

“You’re in trouble Benny,” Roger said, bending slightly to drag his fingers along your cunt, “She’s already soaked. Don’t know she’ll last.”

You whined and squirmed as his fingers traced over you and then yelled when he hit you again. There was no pattern to his punishment, try as you might to find one. He gave you two hits and then pressed his fingers into you, fucking you with them for a moment, and then another five hits, his fingertips lightly rubbing your clit, another two spanks, a spank to your cunt, another three to your arse, and then his fingers again. But there was no way to tell how many spanks you’d endure before he edged you or even how he’d touch you, whether he’d twist his fingers inside you or circle your clit.

“Finger her for me,” Roger said and you heard Ben wince as he stood and knelt behind you. You heard Roger walk away as Ben sank his fingers into you. He slowly pulled them out and pushed them back in, wanting to do as he’d been told, but not wanting to accidentally push you over the edge lest he not get his own orgasm. That was until Roger, over his shoulder, told Ben to do it properly or be spanked again. After that Ben was merciless, shoving a third fingers into you and roughly pounding his them as deep as he could go.

“That’s better,” Roger said when he returned to your side, “make the whore pay for getting you into trouble.”

You cried out and tried to wriggle away as another spank came down on you, but it was impossible to escape with Ben’s fingers hooked in your cunt and your bound hands. All the same Roger placed one of his feet on the side of your head, holding you down against the carpet as he whacked you again and again, ignoring your screams and the tears soaking the carpet. He stopped and you breathed a sigh of relief but it was short lived as a buzzing noise filled the room and you remembered the toy he’d brought in with the paddle.

There was no way to suppress your moan as Roger held the vibrator against your clit, warning you not to cum. He held it there for a matter of seconds and then pulled it away again. Ben’s fingers left you a second later and then you were being tugged up by your collar again, the thick leather band pressing into your throat.

“On the couch, whore.”

“Yes, Sir,” you managed to sob as a few more tears rolled down your cheeks.

Once you were on the couch, positioned the same way you had been on the floor, Ben was handed the vibrator.

“Against her clit, highest setting. Don’t move it until I tell you.”

You whimpered, knowing there was no way you could hold back an orgasm with that kind of stimulation. But that didn’t seem to matter to Roger. He expected you to hold it, reminding you that you didn’t have permission in low growl as he spanked you on the back of your thigh. Your arse tingled all over, stinging twice as much whenever he hit you again but it was nothing to the sensation of the vibrator against your clit.

“I’m close,” you whined before another cry was ripped from you as Roger spanked the back of your other thigh.

“Don’t move it slut. The whore needs to fucking hold it.”

You tried but it was no use, there was nothing you could think of, nothing you could do, that could keep you from disobeying. You moaned as the orgasm rolled through you and heard Roger drop the paddle.

“Don’t move it Ben,” Roger growled as he stalked around to your head, pulling it up by the hair, “I thought I told you to hold it whore,”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you half yelled, whining as the vibrator kept buzzing against your clit.

“You will be.”

You lost sight of Roger as he shoved you back down and walked away.

“Guess we have our answer Ben. Since the whore couldn’t stop herself from cumming, you won’t be allowed to.”

“No, Sir, please, I really need to,”

“That was our deal though slut.”

“Sir,”

“Don’t argue, it’ll just make things worse for you. And don’t move that vibrator.”

Ben fell silent, though a few whimpers escaped him as he pressed the vibrator against you harder.

You were expecting another series of spanks, so when you heard the small jingle sound of Roger removing his belt you cringed away, assuming that was what he was going to hit you with. But instead of the swishing sound it made before a strike, it was followed by the sound of a zip. Roger grabbed your hips and pulled them around so he could press his cock into you. By now the vibrator against your clit felt painful, the overstimulation enough to make you sob but the feeling was only amplified by Roger fucking you hard, his jeans rubbing against your arse since he hadn’t bothered to push them down. You squealed and sobbed as he used your cunt, the vibrator torturing your sensitive clit and making you cry into the couch cushion. Roger just grunted about how tight you were and how your sobs just turned him on more, until finally he came deep inside you. Only after he pulled out did he take the vibrator from Ben, shushing you when you sobbed out a thank you. He stood behind you until he saw his cum dribble out of you and then pulled Ben up by the collar and told him to clean you up. There were footsteps as he left the room but neither of you dared disobey so Ben continued to spread your lips with his thumbs and lick along your slit, pulling a soft moan from you. Roger returned with a warm damp cloth and told Ben to stop. He swiped the cloth over your thighs and up along your lips, gently cleaning off whatever Ben had missed. When he was satisfied he asked you to move over and sat down in the centre of the couch.

“You did so well, Y/N,” he said softly, letting you rest your head in his lap and smoothing back your hair with his palm, “Do you wanna come up here Ben?”

Ben nodded and gingerly knelt on Roger’s other side, too sore to sit properly.

“You were such a good boy Ben, and I’m so proud of you for holding out,” he said as he lay the damp cloth flat against his hand and then reached for Ben’s dick, using the cloth to wank him, “You can cum now.”

Ben panted out a thank you, his voice falling into a moan as he finally got what he’d needed for so long. You watched through tired eyes as Roger’s fist pumped over Ben’s length until his hips stuttered and he moaned with his release. Roger kept praising him until he was completely spent, using the cloth to gather the evidence of the orgasm. It was thrown to the floor and Roger carefully unfastened Ben’s collar, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips and whisper that he loved him. He wrapped his arm around Ben and let him settle on his chest.

“Y/N, love, can you sit up for me?”

You nodded and slowly pushed yourself up, feeling a little dazed.

Roger gently removed your collar and kissed you too, taking an extra moment to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away the last of your tears, and remind you how good you were and how much he loved you before he let you settle in his lap again. He knew he’d have to move you both eventually. There were ice packs and aloe downstairs in the kitchen that would help with your bruised arses and he’d have to make sure you both ate something and drank some water before you went to sleep. But Roger was happy just to sit there for a while to comfort and cuddle the two people he loved most.

#my writing #my blurbs #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #roger taylor x reader x ben hardy #Anonymous #(technically im a day late but its fine #its probs still the 25th for most of ya'll)#blurb advent 2020

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ex-silent-reader · 3 years

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Happy Holidays fic recs

Happy Holidays everybody! I haven’t been commenting on posts individually like i normally like to so it’s kind of backed up a bit. I still really want to thank all the authors who have been sharing their stories with us and leave a lil itty bitty comment before I can expand on them for their own post so here’s that! Also I’ve seen a lot of undeserved negativity being spread to a lot of authors and I just want to thank you all for sharing your work on this platform FOR FREE and remind you that you literally owe us nothing and I’m super grateful that you continue to share with us. These are just some stories that I’ve read this week, i’d def like to do another of these soon :)

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of these stories, each story is owned by the author tagged next to the title and the summary is pulled verbatim from their page, in quotation marks. The only thing I own is gratitude towards these authors for sharing their work with us.

Also all stories are rated M

Also, a loooot of stories have come out lately and I haven’t had a chance to get to a lot of them yet but i hope to soon so I’ll hopefully make another one of these soon, but yea pls know that I’m not purposefully ignoring or excluding anything or anyone.

Jin;

last christmas | ksj x reader - @xjoonchildx

“ summary: it was bound to happen, eventually. after months of near misses at barbecues and birthdays, there’s no avoiding your ex-husband at hoseok’s annual christmas bash. but it’s fine, totally fine, because you’re both adults – and you’ve both brought dates and booze. what could go wrong? “

This story was amazing! First of all, I love the comedy surrounding the entire situation, Hobi with his 8 trees and instigator Yoongi who also wants them to get their shit together for Hobi’s sake. I love all au’s but sometimes exes to lovers is difficult for me to side with because I don’t see how people can bounce back from so much hurt but in this story it felt very natural how they were able to find their way back together and I really enjoyed the insight to their relationship, especially near the end.

Yoongi;

CREAM & SUGA - @snackhobi

“summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.”

Ya’ll. Yoongi fics just truly hit different. The plot of this was so adorable and him going out of his way like that to keep her engaged was so cute and just very Yoongi like. I also just really loved the descriptions in this, like how oc described making the drinks, it just made everything seem so real.

universe | myg drabble - @personasintro

“❥𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; you’re his whole universe, you just don’t know it yet – or him”

ASDFGHJKL! Like, I really have no words for the way this made me feel. Like, ik it’s not a super healthy dynamic but the thought of a fixated Yoongi is.. I loved reading Yoongi being so fixated with oc and doing everything i his capability to meet her. I also was v interested in the part where he bumped into her and she didn’t react the way he expected because it made me think about how he (or any character’s with his mindset) cope when the fantast and reality don’t match.

Hobi;

A Holly, Jolly Crisis (M) - @kpopfanfictrash

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

This story made me feel so many things. Like there’s so many layers to it and both of their hurt, her visiting him and feeling betrayed while he felt pushed aside. This story was so complex and both characters had so many layers to them, but it’s still sooo well written and I was invested the entire time. Like, I genuinely can’t get my feelings out in a brief way so I’m looking forward to screaming about this in it’s own post.

Joonie;

my only wish - knj | m - @ppersonna

“✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug. “

UM! Absolutely adored this story, of course it would be a fellow cream suit enthusiast who can bring so much justice to dreamy Joon. I loved how he was portrayed here and getting insight to both his and oc’s feelings made me root for them soooo hard.

new parent syndrome - @1kook

“ SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)”

The tag “dreamy husband joon” is extremelyyyy accurate. This story was just so cute and their relationship truly felt so intimate and lovely. Her being on the phone with Jimin while Joon was smash SENT me but it was also so hot like ASDFGHJKL that man can do no wrong tbh.

laundry day - @snackhobi

“summary: You’ve been letting your laundry pile up for a little too long. Fortunately, your neighbour Namjoon is there to lend you a hand. “

Pls this was so hot. Like, I’ve made it very clear thus far that I’m a total simp for Joon, the thought of that man going strawberry picking and thinking to grab some for oc genuinely makes me SWOON. He’s an actual heartthrob.

The Sweet in Sweet Potato - @sahmfanficbts

“ Summary: You’ve been roommates for years. Now that you’re catching feelings, it’s time to run away. “

This entire series has had me so invested but this chapter!!! I’m always a sucker for Joon but the way he was so clearly in her feels (for OC) but wanting to respect her need for distance, what a man. And I was so happy to see oc working through her feeling towards Joon.

Last Christmas (M) - @jjungkookislife

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

Damn, I really love when a misunderstanding is such a big catalyst for a bunch of drama/angst. It just really ups the tension for me because as the reader I know it was a misunderstanding but clearly the character’s don’t, so it just makes me really eager to see how they make amends. I really enjoyed seeing them slowly make amends and grow. Also the buildup to them deciding to give the relationship another go made the ending soooo satisfying.

Jimin;

picking petals｜pjm - @taestybae

“ summary ↣ you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get. “

I really have no words for this, like it was so asaifgjhhkc. First of all, I really enjoyed that it was through his pov, i don’t typically read stories like that (I just don’t often come across them) but this still felt so natural that I didn’t even realize until right now, writing this comment. Also, the imagery was so well described and the anticipation built made this story so enjoyable.

Taehyung;

Deepest Indulgence - @scribblemetae

“ Description/Summary: The world is a mess, gangs, violence and rates of poverty are at an all time high since corporations took over everything. You built your Sex house to be a safe place and a sanctuary for those in need, promising to protect anybody who needs it. What happens when an extremely attractive and very rich man walks through the door begging for a job at Deepest Indulgence? The one sex house that wasn’t meant for men like himself. “

I AM SO EAGER FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER TO COME OUT. Like, idk how I can even describe this correctly but this just feel so much like Tae...???? Like idk if that makes sense but just Tae being this v sensual man, but there still being more to him than that, just makes so much sense and even the word “indulgence” is just so sensual and reminiscent of him. Also, the storyline so far is something I’ve personally never seen before and I’m super invested in this world and story already. Very eager to see how their relationship progresses.

let it snow | kth - @suga-kookiemonster

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

It’s the way I read this last night, it took me exactly an hour (3am to 4 am cause I’m a CLOWN), and I was so invested that I kept putting off sleep to finish it. Man, i’m a simp for this Tae (just like he is for oc lmao). I really enjoyed reading it and the mention of Jisoo earlier in the story had me on the edge of my seat the whole time wondering when things were gonna blow up. Everything was just so sweet and fluffy, and the confession really made me feel so soft for them both cause they both were so in their own heads and feelings they couldn’t see what was in front of them so I really enjoyed the confessions.

Jungkook;

Thank you, baby - @scribblemetae

“ Turns out the boy whos been stalking you for years has decided its about time he shows his face in the form of a picture, and decides its time to talk to you for real, in the form of a phone call. “

I genuinely don’t know how I can simp over this story in a short way but I’ll try my best. The characters are so complex and the storyline is twisted so many ways that make this so interesting to read and easy to become invested in. The way Jk is written, I understand why OC is lost on how to feel for him. Like, his actions are wrong, but actually meeting him and even seeing his though process, it’s hard to make him out to be the villian that his actions have categorized him as. I can’t wait to continue reading and write a full length comment about this!

FEED ME, FIGHT ME. @yeojaa

“ What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend? (Aside from trouble, that is.) “

I really enjoyed this, I love how aware of Jk and his boundaries the oc is and how she is cautious to walk the line and not push him too far while also letting him know how his actions make her feel. This just genuinely felt like a glimpse into a very real, very intimate relationship/moment and I loved that. I also just really love how this is written and I think you have a beautiful way with words.

Chapstick - @softyoongiionly

“based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on. Or Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. “

Idk if I’ve ever said it before, but I just love how you write relationships. Like, I can feel how comfortable they are with each other and how natural being together is for them. With your stories generally it just never feels forced and I really love that. I also really liked that we got Jk’s pov in the beginning, getting to see how tense he was really made me eager for their interactions and for him to feel comfortable and calm with her. Their interactions just felt so cute and natural and the end, assdjfhi, jk really deserves to be cherished and I loved seeing oc get him to the point of relaxation.

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pies-writes-and-more · 4 years

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AVENGERS M A S T E R L I S T

**SERIES**

Falling Masterlist Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Collaboration with @wxstedhexrt // poetry focused fics! // TW: anxious thoughts, disassociation experiences and others so please read the warnings in each part! Based on poems written by the incredible Destiny of @wxstedhexrt! Bucky Barnes is falling in so many different kinds of ways - he’s falling in and out of his brain, in and out of reality, in and out of nightmares... and falling in love? Maybe this is the one he doesn’t want to fall out of.

Mr. Steve ( part 1 // part 2 ) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU In a universe where your soulmate’s name is written on your wrist after you meet them, receiving a wedding invitation from her friend is just another reminder that (Y/N) has yet to find her soulmate. But maybe this wedding will be a little bit more exciting, with the help of a tiny child without a filter.

can’t take my mind off of you, Mr. Steve Rogers ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 ) - COMPLETED Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve Rogers and (Y/N) used to date. Emphasis on the used to. But when an important date from their relationship comes up, it stirs up some emotions too. As if to add to the fire, (Y/N) bumps into an old friend who suggests that maybe Steve’s feelings towards (Y/N) aren’t quite gone. And even though it’s hard to admit, especially because she has a new boyfriend, maybe (Y/N)’s feelings aren’t gone either.

Must’ve Been the Wind ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 ) - COMPLETED Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Song Inspo: Must’ve Been the Wind by Alec Benjamin // requested TW: mentions of abusive relationship that (Y/N) is involved in, not too graphic in my opinion but please be wary reading if it may trigger something for you. The girl in the apartment above Bucky’s seems to be in some sort of distress, though she insists that Bucky’s just hearing things. The two bond quickly and soon enough, Bucky wants to rescue her from a situation that she insists isn’t there. Is he just hearing the wind? Or is it a cry for help?

Unlovable ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 ) - COMPLETED Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader There’s one other person besides Steve that makes Bucky feel comfortable in the era he’s not supposed to be in. She makes him feel safe, never pushes him to do anything, and that smile always makes his stomach flip. But a situation without clear communication leaves both Bucky and (Y/N) unsure of if the other feels the same about them.

**Domestic/Homely!Steve Collection ( Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader ) :

Home After months without hearing from his wife and daughter, Steve just wants to be home. He doesn’t care if he could be hurt from his fights, he just wants to see his little girl and the woman he loves. (The beginning of my Homely!Steve Collection!)

Grocery Shopping Steve wants to help out any way he can at home since he’s gone so often. But grocery shopping without a list can be a little stressful, especially with a little mischievous girl.

A Kid’s Imagination When (Y/N) goes to pick up Sarah from school, she’s met with an odd response from the teacher about an announcement Sarah made to her classmates. Rather than talk to Steve about it, she decides to have a little fun with it.

Santa Claus Steve’s back from a long mission and all he wants to do is be with his wife and little girl. Thankfully, they’re not too far from home… and Steve has the perfect Christmas plan to surprise them.

kidnapped.... or pretzels? Steve wakes up in the dead of night to find an empty bed beside him. His mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario as to what could’ve happened to the love of his life, (Y/N).

Dance Recitals If there's one thing that Steve Rogers loves, it's watching his little girl learn how to dance. So he goes out of his way to make sure he doesn't miss too many of her practices. Now, he has to find out how to not miss her first dance recital...

** Stay tuned for more! Send in a request if you think of some cute Dad!Steve Rogers prompts!!**

**ONE SHOTS**

Dinner and a Show Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a writing challenge // prompt: “This is one of those moments when I tell you something isn’t a good idea and you ignore me, isn’t it?” The one where Steve impulsively insists on proving that Y/N’s date for the evening is trash instead of figuring out his feelings for her, meanwhile, Bucky learns that food is way overpriced lol

accidentally ruining relationships Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Y/N spends the evening desperately looking for answers about her love life with her close friend, Bucky. Maybe the reason her relationships aren’t working out is because her heart belongs to another.

A French Kiss Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Alternative Universe Fic // based on a tweet Y/N came to Paris with a plan: take a photo with a cute man next to the Eiffel Tower, just like how her and cheating ex-boyfriend had always planned on doing, and make that son of a bitch jealous. Thankfully, there’s a super cute blond guy who just so happens to be nearby.

Makeshift Thanksgiving Dinner+ Steve Rogers x Fem!EastAsian!Reader Steve Rogers is beyond nervous to finally be meeting his girlfriend's parents. Especially when it's a meeting for Thanksgiving dinner... though (Y/N) neglects to mention until they're almost there that her east asian family doesn't usually have a typical 'American' Thanksgiving dinner... (Super fluffy I promise :))

Take a Hint Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader (Y/N) literally just wants to go out and have a good time with her girls. So why do guys seem to never take ‘no’ for an answer? To try to prevent more annoying encounters with men who can’t take a hint, (Y/N) slips on two rings onto her left hand and assumes the married life. It’s all well and good... until someone sees the rings as a challenge. Enter from stage right, our hero.

boardroom fantasies NSFW, 18+ only, S M U T // Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a prompt challenge // prompt: “You wanna have sex….here? Now?” Steve can’t help how tight his pants get when (Y/N) is working nearby. While everyone else goes out for drinks, he pulls her aside to show her that the Accounting Guy who keeps asking her out isn’t who she should be with.

Holiday Kiss Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Christmas fic Bucky is a little tired of Christmas traditions for the day but with (Y/N) around, there’s just one more tradition he’d like to give a try.

Anxiety Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // TW: lots of anxious thoughts based on my own so be careful if this is a trigger for you! Today’s the day Steve comes back from a mission and (Y/N) is beyond excited to see him. But when you have a little Anxiety monster whispering believable nonsense in your ear, it’s hard to get out of your head.

5 ways Steve Rogers says I Love You (and 1 way he doesn’t) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // sad ending so if you don’t wanna be sad, don’t read the last bit lol Steve Rogers loves you and here’s just a collection of ways he shows it. But not everything has a happy ending.

Healthy Competition Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader // SURPRISE PAIRING // requested It’s not every day that the boys are all infatuated with the same human being. So when they realize they’re all falling head over heels for one girl, Steve insists some ground rules need to be laid out. Little do they know, there’s one person already that (Y/N) is swooning over.

home is a person Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Post inspo: “Someone asked me to describe home and I started talking about your hair colour and the sound of your voice and the taste of your lips and how your skin feels like. Until I realized they had expected to hear a place.” When asked what home was like in a conversation about their past lives, Bucky Barnes immediately thinks of something other than his 1940s home. He thinks of her.

The Waitress Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a writing challenge // song prompt: “If things get worse, will you still be here?” 405 by This Wild Life Steve Rogers has finally worked up the guts to ask out the super cute waitress at the diner he frequents… except it’s hard to ask out of a girl when you’re a) already super nervous, b) unsure if it’s rude to ask her out, and c) when you have Dumb and Dumber insisting they tag along.

Fate’s Ribbon Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU Fate ties a ribbon to every baby that’s born. It’s black to everyone else but your soulmate, who sees it as bright red. Bucky Barnes doesn’t want a soulmate, especially after becoming a completely different person than he was in the 40s. But you can’t run away from what Fate has planned for you.

Happy Moments Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // prompt list // requested Prompts: a perfectly brewed cup of tea and dust floating in golden sunlight Steve Rogers has a few happy moments stored in his brain for when times got tough. He thinks about each of them and how they’re each a part of him. But in this moment, this place, he was happiest.

Probability Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve Rogers is an insecure little bum sometimes. But he’s 75% sure that the girl of his dreams shares his affections… okay 70%…. maybe less….

Fate’s Sense of Humour Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU Everyone is born with a soulmark, generally a signature or some sort of mark to define who this person was. And when you meet your soulmate, your mark gets darker and darker. Everyone is born with this. Except Steve Rogers. He had practically given up on finding someone to be with without a soulmark, until he wakes up from the ice to find a faded grey signature on his arm.

Jealous (Strong) Steve Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Steve Rogers, the man behind the shield, knows that his strength only came from an injection. He isn’t a Norse god, how could he compete against Thor who seems to have all of (Y/N)’s affections? Steve Rogers is a jealous man. A strong jealous man who just keeps breaking things.

Studying Anatomy Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Steve loves his girlfriend very much, so when she practically begs for him to help her study for her anatomy test, how can he say no?

Young But Sure Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Sometimes people have different wants for their future. Sometimes their future includes a pet, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes people want to live in the country, and some just want to live in the middle of the city. Steve Rogers wants kids… and he assumed that his girlfriend did too.

Nosebleeds Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader A Stark Industries tradition was that every year, interns, agents, admins, and all the Avengers were asked to join in on a volleyball tournament. And every year (Y/N)’s team wins. She expected to have some fierce competition from the Captain’s team… she expected wrong.

Coming Home Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader No matter how long he was gone, (Y/N) always slept on the couch when Steve was away on missions so she could be the first thing he saw when he came back. Steve is happy to be home with the girl he loves.

Kiss (* Endgame Spoilers *) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader He just looked so hot, the fire in his eyes, ready to fight. (Y/N) just can’t help herself, she just needs a kiss before they go off to their potential deaths.

Blue Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve in blue is too much to handle whilst sober, (Y/N) decides. So while attending Tony Stark’s birthday party, (Y/N) doesn’t stop to drink her anxiety away making for entertaining company for Steve.

Pizza and the Medical Student Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // College Roommates AU // requested (Y/N) just wants to study for her final. Steve wants to keep her happy. Bucky wants them to just admit their goddamn feelings for each other already.

**Super Cringy-ish Older Fics I Wrote that I Don’t Have Good Summaries For**

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soundsgoodfeelslikeshit · 4 years

Text

Consequences

Summary: Y/N faces the consequences of giving too much of herself to people who weren’t worth it. When she doesn’t show up to hang out with the other pogues, JJ gets worried.

TW: abusive relationship, mentions of anxiety

reader x ex!rafe , reader x platonic!pogues , reader x jj

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Everything had been fine with Rafe in the beginning. He was sweet and nice to you, but it was almost as if a switch flipped. He became abusive, manipulative, and he would constantly try and overpower you. He wanted you to lose weight so you did, you slowly started eating less until you dropped the weight he had been telling you was unnecessary. He didn’t want you hanging out with anymore people, only him. You stopped hanging out with the pogues because that’s what he wanted. He told you that he was never pleased enough, so you lost your virginity to him, when you didn’t want to, and tried to please him more even when you weren’t in the mood. Nothing had ever been non-consensual, but it still did a toll on your mind. He convinced you this was love, and you were almost positive you loved him. You were exhausted though. You couldn’t do anything you loved before, and you couldn’t see the people you loved. You just felt like a shell, hollowed out and empty.

“Rafe please I can’t keep doing this!” you screamed through tears.

“Y/N if you weren’t such a whore we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now,” he yelled back, walking closer to you.

“Rafe they’re my friends. Please. J was just worried. He texts me all the time to make sure I’m okay.”

“Friends don’t look at friends that way.” he mumbled through gritted teeth, clenching his fists.

“Listen to yourself! JJ has been my best friend since I was 5. Let that process and then go ahead and continue being a jealous psycho.” you yelled throwing your hands up.

He didn’t like that very much, you could tell by the way his hand collided with your face.

Your eyes watered but you refused to let them fall as he hit you three more times.

“Rafe please stop.”

“Y/N I- I didn’t mean to.”

“You say that every time. I- Look we’re done. It’s over.” You said shaking your head and wiping your tears.

You quickly left his room and rushed out the front door to your car. Once safely inside you punched the wheel a few times and then drove off.

................................................................................................................................

You heard your phone keep going off but shut it off. You didn’t want to hang out with the pogues and have them asking too many questions. You couldn’t stand the looks of sympathy from them, you weren’t some charity case you could take care of yourself.

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts. With a quiet “come in” your door opened revealing your mother. She sat on the bed next to you and looked at your tear stained face. “Sweetie what happened?”

“Rafe hit me again.” You mumbled as she played with your hair.

“Honey that just means he loves you.”

“Mom no it doesn’t! I’m tired of this! I’m tired of feeling this way and I’m tired of you never understanding that that’s not love. You always support toxic men and try and push unhealthy situations on your daughter! I’m not falling for it mom. I can’t keep doing it. I won’t be you.” You yelled.

“Don’t talk to me that way, I’m your mother.”

“Please just get out.”

You sighed and ran you fingers through your hair as she got up and left. Looking around you found your bag and began to throw some clothes and a few essential items you needed. You thought for a second and then decided it was time for the pogues to know where you’ve been. Grabbing your keys and slinging your bag over your shoulder, you grabbed your phone and turned it back on. You ran towards your car and headed towards the Chateau.

................................................................................................................................

You’d arrived at the Chateau probably 20 minutes ago at this point, but you couldn’t pull yourself together. Your anxiety was at a high, you couldn’t stop crying, and you were scared they might reject you. You were supposed to go out on the marsh with them today after all.

Finally deciding to go in you pushed yourself out of the car and towards the Chateau. You knocked with shaking hands and heard the noise diminish inside. Debating on running away instead you began to turn, but the door opening stopped you. “Y/N/N, what happened to you?” John B asked sadly.

He quickly pulled you into his arms as you shook your head. “Rafe.” He brought you inside where you felt your friends gazes fall on you. They quickly joined the hug knowing that was probably what you needed the most.

“Look at you, you’ve dropped two sizes.” Kie stayed worriedly. “Are you eating?”

You sighed and sat in the pullout couch, watching as everyone took seats in various places around you. Then you brought your eyes to the floor. “I guess I have some explains to do huh?”

You drew a shaky breath before beginning. “As you all know, I was with Rafe. At first everything was fine, I would say perfect if I didn’t know everything.” You said with a sarcastic laugh. “Then something changed in him. He was overbearing, manipulative, and ultimately became abusive. I was convinced I loved him, I know now that I didn’t I just felt like that was love. He wanted me to lose weight because he thought I had “unnecessary weight” on me, and I agreed so I lost the weight, and slowly my appetite went with it. He convinced me that I only needed to see him, he didn’t let me see you guys. He didn’t want me to. I was also told I wasn’t pleasing him enough so I tried my hardest to please him as much as I could. It was never non-consensual, but there was times where I just did it because he wanted to. I tried to reach out for help from my mom, but she told me that’s just how he showed love. I believed her until today.”

You felt the tears in your face before your body began to shake. It was so much worse coming out of your mouth. Drawing your knees up to your body, you slowly rocked yourself back and forth. “I’m so-sorry I should’ve been a better friend. I should’ve listened.”

“This was not your fault. None of it was. None.” Kie said as she wrapped her arms around you and ran her fingers through your hair soothingly.

“It’s okay for you to feel the way you do right now, but you can’t blame yourself. We don’t blame you, and you were still messaging us we just couldn’t see you. We aren’t mad. We love you.” Pope said as he rubbed up and down your legs trying to soothe you.

At some point you zoned out and Kie was replaced with JJ. He sat and whispered sweet nothings into your ear and reassurances. John B was cooking while Kie and Pope cleaned up and were setting the living room up for a sleepover.

Your body began to shake again as you thought about how Rafe had effected you. JJ pulled you tighter and began to rub up and down your back to relax you. “It’s okay. You’re fine.” You clutched his shirt. You looked at him through your puffy eyes, and he smiled sadly at you.

................................................................................................................................

John B walked and set five plates down on the coffee table and he looked at you expectantly. “I made your favorite, Y/N/N. Just try and eat what you can, we’re gonna get you healthy again.” He said patting your knee. You nodded and picked up the plate, eating bites here and there.

Your friends knew you wouldn’t be okay for a while but they were willing to hold you until your pieces were put back together.

That night you all just laid on the pull out couch cuddled into one another. You were the first to fall asleep among the pile of limbs.

................................................................................................................................Months had gone by now and you most definitely had your days, but you were getting better. Your friends were with you through everything. You had emancipated yourself from your mother, and now lived at the Chateau with John B and sometimes (most the time) JJ.

“Hey get up sleepyhead. We got fish to catch on the marsh today.” John B said slapping your leg.

“Mmmm go away.” You sat up anyways, stretching your body and climbing off the spare bed. You pulled your clothes off and changed into a new red swimsuit and a pair of denim short. Checking your outfit in the mirror, you smiled at the lack of ribcage you saw. You finally began to have an appetite again. Reaching on the dresser, you grabbed a hat that JJ left in there and put it on your head. Slipping your feet into your flipflops you ran to the kitchen to put the beers into the cooler and grabbed some fruits, since Kie was bringing sandwiches. You caught up with John B and attached your arm to his.

“So who’re we gettin first?” You asked as you swung the cooler.

“Pope and JJ. JJ stayed at Pope’s since they had a grocery run early this morning.” You nodded and allowed John B to help you into the boat.

“Can I drive?” You asked excited. John B laughed and nodded his head.

You began to head towards Pope’s dock. When both boys got on the boat they greeted you with hugs. JJ rested his head on your shoulder as you headed towards Kie’s dock, leaving a smile on your face. “I like this color on you.” You laughed and pushed him off you. You didn’t mind that he was flirty with you, but you caught feelings pretty easily. You’d always thought JJ was attractive, but you’d known him since you were 5 some things just never happen.

Kie jumped on the boat and you headed towards the marsh. John B was planning on driving the boat back tonight, so you were able to drink as much as you wanted while you were out here. You stopped the boat in your usual spot and JJ dropped the anchor. “Pope I bet I can do a better cannonball than you.” You teased as you pulled your shorts off.

“I highly doubt that. You’ve never been good at cannonballs.”

You laughed and raced over to the edge of the boat, cannon balling off the edge. You came back up for air, and Pope was laughing beside you in the water. “Y/N definitely had the better cannonball.” Kie said. You smirked. “Sorry Pope don’t make the rules.”

The rest of the group followed you guys into the water where you just swam and messed around for a while. You grew tired and rested your body on JJ’s back. “Let’s have a chicken fight!” You yelled. JJ smiled dipping under the water to position you on his shoulder, Pope doing the same for Kie. You waited for John B to yell to start, then you were merciless to Kie. Ultimately you and JJ won. You both cheered as Pope and Kie went under water. JJ put you down and then you wrapped your arms around him. He smiled at you and then looked down at your lips, you doing the same. Before your lips could connect you swam away climbing back onto the boat.

You pulled a beer out of the cooler and took a long sip. You pulled out some strawberries too and sat and ate those for a little bit.

“Hey.” Kie said sitting next to you. You smiled and greeted her.

“I saw what happened between you and JJ.”

“What do you mean?” You questioned acting oblivious.

“I mean I saw you almost kiss. It wouldn’t be the worst thing would happen. You deserve someone like him. He cares about you so much. He also is the best him when he’s with you.”

“Kie, there’s nothing wrong with him. It’s me. I’m scared to get in another relationship. Just damaged goods huh?” You laughed.

“JJ would never hurt you. But I do understand where you’re coming from.”

“You might be right though. Maybe I’ll give him a shot.” You sighed.

................................................................................................................................

You and JJ sat at the end of the dock, feet hanging over the edge. You debated on saying anything.

“I’m sorry for running away.”

“I’m sorry for trying to kiss you.”

You both laughed as you had said something at the exact same time.

“J, I was going to kiss you. I just got scared. I guess when something traumatic happens, it effects your more than you know.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that. I should have known not to push you, especially when I know you haven't been ready. Hell I’m such an ass, I’ve been holding you as you’ve cried and broken down about it. I’m a terrible per-”

You cut him off by placing your lips on his softly. He quickly kissed back and you smiled into the kiss, “J, stop you aren’t a terrible person. You’ve been helping me more than you know, have been since we were 5.”

He smiled softly and kissed you again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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