#and for that one this will be the second divorce her parents have gone through while she was a teenager

[itstimeforstarwars]

With two divorces and three deaths in the family over the last year and a half my family is completely fracturing but mostly I feel sourly grateful that this didn't happen when I was a teenager and I'm really sorry for my younger cousins who are Really Going Through It rn.

[drefear]

Daddy Issues

Best Friend’s Dad!Miguel x Reader

TW: smut, p in v, roughness, dirty talking, fingering, some fluff, some angst, teasing. 

might make a part 2, we’ll see. 

Nothing beat the way it felt to dance, nothing made you feel as alive. This was evident in the way you leaped across the stage and spun into a pirouette. You smiled and panted a bit and continued your routine, jumping into an arabesque as if you were in flight and completely weightless.

The applause filled the auditorium and you felt the out-of-beat rise and fall of your chest as you begged for air silently. You saw your father stand up with tears in his eyes and your best friend as well, who came to watch you for support. You’d finally gotten the lead in the show your dance school was doing, The Nutcracker , and being Clara was like walking on air. You ballet-ran off the stage and waited for the curtains to close, signaling the end of the show. You’d done it, and with perfect timing as you were about to graduate college and no longer have your dance team anymore, since you would officially reach the age limit in the fall of next year and auditions were in the winter. Your heart pounded as you saw Gabriella from the wings, happily waiting for you to come out and take your final bow, and then it was time. You milked the hell out of your curtain call, waving and smiling like a total idiot, but it was worth it. Everything had paid off to finally be at this moment.

But… they were gone? You searched for your father and Gabriella’s faces, but they weren’t in the seats they’d just been in. Did they leave? Maybe went to get the car before everyone rushed to the exits? You felt a little tinge of hurt in your heart, but you would try to understand. They came to watch and that’s all that mattered.

Feeling a tap on your shoulder as you masked your confusion on the stage, you turned to see the two missing familiars holding two large bouquets of flowers. You eyes welled with tears and you hugged them tight, crying happily as they wrapped their arms around you. The moment was perfect.

Well. Almost. There was only one person missing, one person who you already knew wouldn’t make it.

Gabriella’s dad, Miguel. He’d been one of your biggest fans since you and Gabriella became friends in middle school, about the time you began to blossom into the woman you were today. The two of you were inseparable from the moment you’d met, and soon, both of your families were just as close.

You’d been through everything together. Puberty, getting your periods, your parents divorce and your mom leaving, Gabriella’s mother passing away, everything. You two had even decided once you graduated high school, to go to college together and share an apartment.

Which is exactly what you did, and now you both were graduating. Gabriella was finishing her undergraduate for medical school, and you’d gone on to major in the arts, so you could become a professional choreographer. No one could get in between the two of you.

Except her father, you thought for a brief second before shaking the thought from your head.

No! That’s bad, very bad! You chastised yourself for your subconscious wishes.

Gabi’s dad was so nerdy as you grew up, doting on her mom every waking moment. You’d even gone as far as to call him a simp once, to which Gabi laughed about it for days. Your mom and dad barely got along at all through your childhood, so it was no wonder how much her parents loved each other was foreign to you, but things changed when you two became juniors in high school.

You’d had your first kiss, and Gabi begged for details in her room. The two of you sat up and talked about this boy you’d kissed all night, but she was definitely way more excited than you were. It just wasn’t what you’d expected, shoving his tongue into your mouth instantly and basically just pushing your head into his passenger window as you somewhat wanted to get away from him.

Plus, he wasn’t even that cute.

But Gabi hadn’t experienced anything around boys yet, and so you indulged her and made it seem way more romantic and nice than it was. Batting your eyes, you made smoochy sounds as she smacked you with a pillow and you both giggled.

“Girls, lights out.” You heard Gabi’s mom say and you furrowed your brows a bit at Gabi, who just rolled her eyes in response. You waited to hear the footsteps fade before you asked her what that was about.

“My mom and dad have been seeing this counselor. Something about the spark needing to be reignited, so now they go into the guest bedroom every Saturday to have sex.” She made a disgusted face and your eyes widened.

“They plan it?”

“I guess? It’s been every weekend now for like three weeks, and I’m going insane! Let’s sneak out and see a movie or something before my brain dies.” She moved towards her window and waved me over, but you glanced at her bedroom door.

“Wait, I gotta get my shoes from downstairs, I’ll meet you in the backyard.” You spoke and she gave you a thumbs up, before tucking out of her window.

You tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room when you heard it.

“Miguel- right there!” It was hushed, but you heard it clearly. Not being able to resist, you peeked into the kitchen where you’d heard the sounds and your mind was never the same. “What if the girls come down-”

“Shh, we’ll hear them, now focus on me, cariño.” He had his head tucked into her neck as his pants were pulled below his ass, showing his toned bottom as he fucked up into her. Legs wrapped around his waist, he was so much larger than her. How did you just notice this?

Your eyes fluttered downwards to where the two of their bodies met and you gasped. He was huge. Could dick even be that big? He was beyond anything you’d seen in the health textbooks or on twitter.

You stumbled backwards and immediately knocked over the lamp on the table, the house then suddenly becoming quiet. It was as if there was no air inside of your lungs anymore, freezing in place until you saw the swinging kitchen door begin to move, running faster than you ever have for your shoes and bolting back up the stairs. You jumped as you tried to get your shoes on as fast as possible and sat on the window ledge as you heard someone coming into Gabi’s room as you were about to climb down the gutter into her backyard. Looking up, your eyes met his.

His face was sweating lightly and his eyes were blown with lust, watching you like a predator. You glanced down where you’d seen what you should never have, and his pants were pulled up now, but the bulge was still prominent and hard. You gulped and practically fell out the window backwards as you collapsed onto Gabi, who was waiting for you.

“Go!” You whispered harshly and dragged her hand, “Your dad is right behind me and he saw me!”

“Shit, how?” Gabi asked and your mouth went dry, the scene replaying in your mind like a broken record that kept skipping to the same place.

“You don’t want to know.” You hushed and ran to her fence as the lights from the back door flashed on and you two were met with the large shadow of Mr. O’Hara.

“What are you two doing?” His voice was like a death sentence to the both of you, who were sitting in the grass now. You scrambled to get up and your hands were shaking. Nothing was processing in your head. Why were you so sweaty?

“We were just gonna jump on the trampoline, dad.” Gabi lied and you just nodded, eyes avoiding his as he walked closer and folded his arms. You looked at his hands, and you thought back to where they’d just been, rubbing Mrs. O’Hara’s clit. Your eyes flashed back down to the grass.

Your name broke you from your haze, Mr. O’Hara’s voice making your knees tremble a bit. “You don’t look well, maybe I should call your dad and have him come get you.” he spoke and moved to touch your forehead, checking for a temperature. You flinched and moved backwards.

“You know what, you’re right. I’ll walk home I think. See you tomorrow, Gabi.” You rambled and a hand caught your wrist.

“You can’t walk home now, it’s dark out. I’ll just call your dad-”

“He’s working late, can’t come out. I’ll just walk home!” You tried again, begging for whatever higher power could hear you to just let you die.

“No, I’ll drive you then.” He said and your fate was sealed.

You just quietly nodded as Gabi looked at you with a bad feeling showing in her emotions. You two were in so much trouble.

Sitting in the car, your knee bounced with anxiety.

‘Please don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to me, please don’t-’

“So, where were you two actually planning on going?” SHIT.

“Uh. Just to see a movie.” You mumbled, staring out the window.

“And why sneak out? You both know that we’d happily drive you, even give you some money for snacks.” His tone made your skin crawl, now recognizing it as the moaning and grunting you’d heard prior.

You cleared your voice and tried to not look guilty. “We, uh, didn’t want to… bother you guys.” You hoped he wouldn’t even hear you, would just let it all go.

“It’s never a bother, especially when it’s about your and Gabi’s safety.” He spoke and pulled up to a red light. The silence was drowning you, but it was better than answering his questions.

“Gabi said you two were busy tonight, so we thought it’d be better if we just snuck out.” You shifted your legs in the passenger seat, begging the world to strike you with lightning.

“Ah. So Gabi figured it out.” He said and the light turned green again. “Gabi’s mother and I have been married a long time, and sometimes we need to do things to keep-”

“The flame alive, yeah I know. Can we please not talk about this, Mr. O’Hara?” You begged, and your eyes met once more, making you blush wildly. You couldn’t help but remember the way he looked as he thrusted into his wife. You turned away fast so he hopefully wouldn’t see your red cheeks. “Gabi and I will never sneak out again, I promise, just please stop talking about this!” You covered your ears a bit. That’s when he put it together.

“Oh.” he just said and continued to drive, hands white knuckling the steering wheel. “I’m… sorry you saw that.” His tone was hesitant, like he wasn’t even sure what the words he was saying meant.

“Cool, yep, see ya tomorrow Mr. O’Hara!” You chirped and practically jumped out of his moving car as he pulled to a stop outside of your house, no cars in the driveway and no lights on. You ran to the front door and burst inside, locking it behind you and panting.

That night, you’d had your very first orgasm thinking about him fucking you like that and nothing was ever the same.

A year later, and Mrs. O’Hara was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer and had only a few months to live. She pulled through to around a year and you felt your heart break the moment she was gone. Your mother had abandoned your father and you a little into your freshman year of high school, so you’d leaned on Mrs. O'Hara, like she was your own mother, learned her ways and how to be a good cook, and she taught you many things about life that you’d eventually need.

Gabriella and Mr. O’Hara were both devastated, and you could understand why. Nothing was the same for them. After the funeral, you, the O’Hara’s, and your father had a meal together, and that would be a weekly dinner from then on. Most of the time, she would cook for everyone when you all would hang out together, especially after your mom disappeared, but now with her gone, you picked up on cooking duties. It wasn’t as amazing as hers, but it fed you all and it was similar, so you kept up with it every week.

Flash forward to tonight, graduation looming over you like a rain cloud on a summer day. All of your grades were final, your dance team was about to disburse, and you’d be a woman of the world soon. Oh how the times had changed, and tonight was your official family dinner. Instead of cooking at home, your father insisted on you all going out to eat and your and Gabriella’s favorite restaurant.

And so here you were, sitting with that too tight bun still bobbypined and an easy-to-throw-on dress you’d yanked out of your closet in a rush to wear home after your performance. Gabriella held your hand as she chatted about what her and her new boyfriend were going to do after graduation, how he was going to med school with her and she wanted to get an apartment with him. You nodded, excited for her. You weren’t surprised, as she’d mentioned them moving in together multiple times recently, which would mean you'd be looking for a studio apartment soon. That was fine by you, since she’d still be in school and you were about to begin your own career.

The Latin food filled your senses as you enjoyed the food and light conversation. Gabriella spoke with her boyfriend to her other side and your father laughed with a glass of bourbon in his hand. You felt a hand on your shoulder from above and saw that looming figure you saw in your late night fantasies.

“Dad!” Gabi perked up and stood to hug her father, making you also stand to give him a polite peck on the cheek. As you leaned up to do just that, the corners of your lips brushed and your body froze, the feeling soft and… addicting. You snapped out of it almost as fast as you felt it and blinked a few times quickly to look like nothing happened, not meeting his eyes as you sat once more.

When you looked back to where he was hugging your father and shaking Gabis boyfriends hand, your eyes met and he was staring a bit. He sat next to you and you straightened up in your dress. This was new…

You’d done well at hiding your crush on him in the years, you thought. The first few months after you saw him and his wife have sex, you couldn’t look either of Gabi’s parents in the eye, but you’d gotten over it once you lost your virginity. ‘So that’s what it’s like’ you thought once you were done and the boy you were with was in the bathroom.

Dinner was served relatively quickly as you all ordered and drank. Your father had another bourbon neat, and Miguel had a Manhattan, as Gabi and her boyfriend each had a few vodka sodas, and you just slipped on your little tequila drink. It was a special for that week or something and had some sort of juice that made it look blueish purple.

Once you all had a drink in your each, you’d all begun laughing and chatting louder and as the night went one, you’d had a few more.  The live band started and you swayed a bit at the music. When you turned your head, Miguel was looking at you already with his arm behind your chair. You blushed a bit, warm from the liquor in your veins as he chuckled.

“Drunk? I thought you could handle more than that.”

“No no, I don’t… I don’t like to drink too much, so I’m already pushing it.” You smiled and glanced at your dad, who just nodded in agreement.

“My little girl did not get the drinking gene.” He added and sipped the bourbon he had. Gabi laughed and spoke up.

“Should’ve seen her in Miami on Spring Break! She was so drunk, she was dragging strangers to dance with her-“

“Gabi!” You chimed in and glanced at your father and  Miguel, the men laughing at your embarrassment.

“You’re a great dancer, even drunk!” She added and her boyfriend smiled at the memory as well. “How about we dance?” He nodded and pulled her hand to dance to the live music, enjoying the soft singing of the Hispanic music. You glanced at the dance floor and saw all couples, where Gabi now stood with her loving boyfriend.

“Go, find a partner!” You dad added and you shook your head. “Come on! A professional dancer who won’t dance alone?” He teased and you smiled again, just ignoring the comment.

“Here, I’ll dance with you.” Miguel stood and reached for your hand. You froze once more for that moment and nodded. “That way, you can still dance and not be alone.” He smiled wider and pulled you up, walking with you to the dance floor. You stood in front of him and heard the next song begin. Preciosa by Marc Anthony began and the beat made you move your hips gently, as he held your hands and followed your movements.

“They didn’t teach Latin dancing to you, did they?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice. You looked up with a small ‘no’ and he chuckled, moving you in close to his chest and putting one leg in between yours. “Follow my lead, and loosen your hips. No ballet here, amor.” The roll of his tongue on the ‘r’ made your hips stutter in their movement. You’d never been so nervous to dance. He held one hand up and placed the other hand around your waist, swiveling you and twirling you both as he moved with precision and ease across the dance floor. You felt the eyes of everyone around you, but you couldn’t care. This was a moment you knew you’d waited your whole life for, and this was probably as close as you’d get to being with Miguel, so you’d ignore everyone and enjoy it while it lasted. A smile tugged at your features and you let him lead you. He even lifted you at one point like you were nothing but a piece of paper, a feather.

When that song ended, Vivir Mi Vida played and the tempo became faster, making you both continue with hast and creating a bit of sweat on both of you. He took control of the dance and spun you around the dance floor, making sure no one got in either of your ways as you laughed with glee.

The night moved in a blur as you and Miguel moved like a couple who’d been together for years, two who moved as one.  A slow song played and the strum of the guitar moved your bodies close, making you lean back and forth intimately against each other. The song ended and you both realized there was very few people left in what once was a bustling restaurant, and when you turned back to your table, your father was handing the bill to the waiter. Miguel stopped and walked back.

“I told you I was taking care of it tonight.” He caught your dad’s wrist and took the check, replacing your father’s credit card with his, and giving it back to the poor confused server. They hurried away as your dad shook his head.

“Couldn’t let me have that, O’Hara? You and Gabi came to support my little girl, and you even swept her onto the dance floor and made her smile. Least I can do is buy ya dinner.” He laughed and Miguel smiled.

“Not a chance. She’s been a wonderful friend to Gabriella for years, and she’s like my own mija. Let me treat you all and celebrate her.”

The words echoed in your mind and broke down your wonderful night.

His mija? As in… his own daughter?

You cursed yourself silently and painting a fake smile onto your lips as you all got up to leave once he took back his card. Gabriella was speaking to you and rambling about the apartment her and her boyfriend were looking at tomorrow, but all you could hear was the white noise of your own thoughts crippling your ability to think.

You tossed and turned all night after hearing Miguel say those words and you pushed down the feelings you’d pretended were not there for years, as they threatened to roll over your being and blow through your eyes without grace. How could you let yourself think anything like that again?

A few weeks later and you sat with Gabi in her backyard, tanning in the chairs by her pool as you both heard a low “I’m home,” from inside. The back door swung open and you saw Mr. O’Hara standing there. He was silent for a moment before getting a bit irritated. “What the hell are you two wearing?” He barked, angered.

Gabi shrunk back. “Dad, what are you talking about? They’re just bikinis!” She tried to call him down, but he seemed to get even worse.

“Just- those aren’t even bikinis, those- that’s less than underwear, you both might as well be wearing nothing!” He yelled in upset, like a lion roaring in pain.

“Maybe I should just go.” You mumbled and his eyes snapped to you. Uh oh…

“Not a chance. Yours is worse than hers! You look naked!” He stepped towards you and instinctively you took a step back, behind the lawn chair.

“M-Mr O’Hara, no one can see us. We’re in your backyard.” You spoke carefully, trying to make it better. “So no one even saw us, right? We'll change.” You nodded, obediently as you grabbed Gabi’s hand and slipped back into the house, hearing him grumble to himself as you passed him.

“I’ve never seen him talk to us like that.” Gabi spoke, putting on a t-shirt. She sighed and pulled her hair up. “Not even when I had that hickey sophomore year!”

“Maybe he just had a rough day and that was the last straw?” You hadn’t changed yet, staring at yourself in the bikini in the mirror. It really wasn’t terrible, maybe a bit more of a cheeky back than a full one, the straps of your bikini fairly thin. Just a regular red triangle bikini. Maybe you’d just gained weight? You huffed, “my bag is downstairs with my clothes, I’m gonna go grab it.”

“Do you wanna just borrow a shirt?”

“I mean, maybe. Anything baggy, so he doesn’t freak out again?” You asked and glanced at her hamper of clean clothes.

“Yeah, grab whatever.” She waved you off and you reached in, grabbing a large t-shirt and a pair of soccer shorts. “I’m gonna go start making some dinner, come down when you’re done changing to help.” She spoke and walked out of the room. You sighed and pushed your hair behind your ears, sitting on her bed and holding the discarded bikini. Was he really upset? Well, maybe he was since he saw you as his own daughter. You begrudgingly got up and walked down the hall, passing by his office and spotting him.

“Come in here.” His tone was sharp, almost nerve wracking. You followed the voice and saw him with his arms folded over his chest, an irritated glare in his eyes. “I’m disappointed in both of you for thinking something like that is appropriate to wear.”

“Mr. O’Hara, we weren’t out in public, and no one else was around!” You answered, regretting your decision to stand up for yourself, as you notice the look in his eyes and realize you’re just digging your own grave.

“So you two weren’t taking a snapchat in those outfits? No videos or TikToks?” He asked, making you bite your tongue and avoid laughing at hearing him say that stuff.

“Maybe one tiktok…” You trail off and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But, we didn’t post it, and I can delete it.” You justified and he nodded, concern still etched into his beautiful face. You take out your phone and as you begin to delete the video, his eyes narrow.

“...are those my clothes?” His head cocked to the side like a confused dog and you looked down, just as curious to see what he was talking about.

“No, they were in Gabi’s clean clothes.”

“Well, that’s my t-shirt from high school and those are my workout shorts.” His words made you quiet, forgetting about deleting the video. You blushed a bit and immediately starting searching for your bag, making a bee-line for the living room. “Oh my god, I’ll go change, I’m so sorry.” You rambled some flustered apologies before he could say anything else and ran off to the bathroom with the bag on your shoulder. Locking the door, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Could today get any worse? You leaned your head against the wall and kept your eyes shut, then took your clothing off once more to change into the clothes that actually belonged to you.

Tugging your skirt down to a suitable length incase Mr. O’Hara decided to berate your fashion choices once more, you glanced at something on the floor. It was another shirt of his, this time obvious by how large this one was, and the smell.

It was definitely something he’d just worked out in, having a particular musk to it, and the smell of his aftershave and body wash. It was him to a tee, and something in your body lit on fire just from the scent.

Without a second thought, you stuffed the shirt in your bag and exited the bathroom.

That night was filled with stifled moans and bitten knuckles as you quieted yourself while using your vibrator. His shirt stayed stationed in the hand you were biting down on, smelling his scent while you touched yourself until you were seeing stars and having trouble remembering your own name.

You hid that shirt the next day, stuffing it behind your pillows for safe keeping.

A day later, Miguel and Gabi had come over to watch some sport together. You’d never really been interested in sports unless Gabi was playing, but you enjoyed the company, so you often cooked for them all while they enjoyed the show. You mixed the guacamole as you heard someone walk into the kitchen behind you.

“Smells great.” Miguel spoke as he opened the fridge.

“Homemade chips, for the guac.” You nodded, still somewhat keeping it short with him after the prior day’s events.

“You can’t still be mad, right?” He asked and you turned to him fully, pausing the work on the mashed avocado and staring at him. He was holding two beers.

“I was never mad, but I still don’t get it.” You shrugged, “it just didn’t really seem like a big deal.”

“Really?” He seemed to get a little upset at that, placing the beers down and leaning on the kitchen island. “Because I think it was a huge deal. You’re barely an adult, you can’t be dressed like-”

“Like what? A woman? It was a bikini, it’s not like I was standing on the corner!”

“Watch how you talk to me.” He got cold and serious and your temper was flaring up.

“Why should I? You’re not my dad or my boyfriend, so you don’t get to tell me how to dress.” You shot back and he was quiet for a second. This prompted you to continue your winning streak. “And I don’t think you get to tell me what’s appropriate in front of people.”

“What are you talking about?” He hissed, taking a small step closer to you. “You don’t remember? When I caught you fucking on your kitchen counter? Cause I remember. Vividly.” You jabbed back and his eyes widened, the anger on your face apparent. Without another word, you stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs to your bedroom, slamming the door and sitting on your bed.

You shouldn’t have brought that up, you knew you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. Who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t do? He was just your friend’s dad, he had no right to yell at you about how you dressed or what you did. It wasn’t his place.

“Honey?” Your dad said from outside your door and you got up, opening it for him. “Miguel told me that he upset you, so I told him that he and Gabi should go home for the night so I could talk to my little girl.” Your dad always called you ‘his little girl,’ no matter how old you got. Tears started welling in your eyes, and you didn't know why, but you started crying into your father’s chest. He hugged you in a tight embrace as you continued to let out the tears you didn’t know you were holding in.

Some time went on and after about a week, you’d gone to Gabi's childhood home to hang out and watch a movie while Miguel was out. It was perfect. You didn’t have to see him and you could have some one-on-one time with Gabi.

Until she fell asleep halfway through the movie. You sighed, getting up and getting a glass of water. The week had been stressful. Every free second you had, you were touching yourself to Miguel’s shirt, tracing your clit, biting your lip to avoid making sounds. Even just the memory of his smell made your knees wobble a bit and you held onto the fridge handle a bit tighter while getting the water. The front door opening signaled you that he was now home. Time to leave as fast as possible, you thought to yourself, and placed the full cup of water in the sink.

Before you could walk out of the kitchen, Miguel was in the doorway staring down at you. “I just got off the phone with your father.” His voice was monotone, which wasn’t abnormal.

“You can tell him I’ll be home soon.”

“Well, he had a few questions for me. About you.” He spoke and something was off about how he was speaking. Was he… taunting you?

You finally met his eyes and you were right, something was off.

“He said the cleaning lady found a man’s shirt in your bedroom.” Your heart dropped. No no no no!

“Oh.” Was all you could muster up as he watched your reaction. “He asked if you and Gabi had any new boys around, any new friends. He said you randomly started crying the other day and he was worried you might be going through some sort of relationship that he’s unaware of. So?” He asked and you just clenched your jaw.

“Mr. O’Hara, that is none of your-”

“Say my name,” he demanded.

“What?” You questioned, taking a step backwards.

“Say my name. You want me to treat you like an adult? Say my name.”

“Fine. Miguel, that is none of your business.” You barked at him, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I think it is my business, though. Since it’s my shirt.” He announced and your eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. How did he-

“It was just so strange, how one of my shirts went missing, one I had been wearing the day I yelled at you about that bikini, and then suddenly your dad finds a shirt that matches the one I’m missing. Weird coincidence, hmm?” he folded his arms and you felt your body running cold. How could you steal from a genius and think he wouldn’t realize? “So let me get the facts in order. You watched me have sex in my kitchen, you stole my dirty clothing, and you pranced around my house in a skimpy bikini.” He spoke in a lower voice, as if he was just thinking out loud, and you noticed the look in his eyes was becoming hungry.

“Y-Yes ok I did that, I’m sorry. Don’t tell anyone it was yours!” You begged and he chuckled at you, looking to the side.

“I’m not telling anyone anything, but I have a question.” He paused and brought his thumb to his lip, as if thinking about something he was trying to word correctly. “What were you doing with my shirt?”

Your blood ran cold, the sound of your heart beating in your ears too loud to even think. He… wanted you to say it. Heat began to rise up your neck and cover your cheeks and ears with a tint of red.

“C’mon, say it.” His lips twitched to a smirk and you squeezed your legs together at the view you had of him. Dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, belt around those slim hips, slacks tight in all the right places from how muscular his thighs were.

Embarrassment filled your head as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and as you lifted them up his body, red rubies claimed your sight like they owned you.

“I-I… thought about you.”

“Be specific, amorcita, what about me?” He moved forward and tilted your chin up to keep eye contact with him as you spoke.

You gulped and closed your eyes, too humiliated to say what you were about to while seeing his face. “I thought of you and I having sex… touching me and stuff.”

“Eyes on me, mi corazon.” You opened your eyes and he was bent down to where he could kiss you. His breath smelled like mint. “Tell me more.”

“I imagined you on top of me, b-behind me… kissing me.” You trailed off as his lips ghosted over yours, then smiling and crashing together like a crescendo of a symphony. His hands gripped the sides of your body, picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

“You thought of me touching you here?” His hand trailed down your torso towards the front of your jean shorts, tracing where your pussy sat, hot and waiting. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and he smirked again. He liked the effect he had on you, it was obvious.

“Words, mi amor.”

“Yes, Miguel, please.” You spoke, your words shaky as he laughed at your shyness. “Where was that attitude from before? All that sass?” He whispered against your ear as he unzipped your jean shorts, pulling down the material to expose you more to him. His fingers rubbed against the lacy fabric of your panties, and you lost your mind for a minute, panting a bit just from the slight contact. “You’re that sensitive? Just from a little touching?” He purred and yanked your panties off as well, your naked core against the chill of the air sending a shiver up your spine. “Where’d all that shit you were talking from the other day go?”

“Miguel,” You beg and place a hand on his shoulder.

“Gotta open you up first, Princessa.” His words were low and rumbled in your body as he gave you pet names.

A finger slipped into you without issue, and your back arched into his chest as he massaged your thigh with the other hand. A moan erupted in your throat and he quickly took the hand on your thigh to cover your mouth. “Shhh, we can’t have Gabi finding us like this, right?” You nodded and practically saw your eyes cross as he pushed in another finger, beginning to feel full with just the two digits. He worked them back and forth in you as he placed soft kisses against your throat. Your whole body jolted, like an electric current was rolling throughout your body.

His fingers began to curl against that spongy spot that had you rolling your eyes back, letting out more muffled sounds against his other hand, his eyes hooded and watching you through his thick lashes. Like a predator, he moved them faster and you felt yourself about to teeter over the edge. His thumb brushed against your clit and you were sent into a full earth-shattering orgasm, gripping his shoulder for stability as he let you ride his fingers through it.

“Preciosa…” he mumbled and unzippered the dress pants, pulling himself out and watching your face change from blissed out to fearful. “Don’t worry, I’ll go slow…” he whispered and lined himself up. Pulling you to the edge of the counter, he pushed the tip into you and you closed your eyes, feeling the stretch of his size already. He moved slowly as you adjusted and once he was fully in, you hissed a bit. You both were completely breathless, like two wild beasts waiting to see who would make the first deadly move. “Look at me while I fuck you good, I want to see that pretty face while I’m inside you.” Keeping eye contact, he moved his thumb back on your clit, making you shake a bit and let out pretty little sounds again. He started to move at this, feeling so good and overwhelmingly full. It was as if you’d been speared onto something, he was impaling himself into you and you loved every second. You began to thrust back against him and he practically lost it then and there, watching you frantically chase your own high making him almost feral. He yanked you off of the counter top, flipping you over and pushing you down flat against it. Shoving himself back inside of you, he began a relentless pace, bruising your cervix over and over. As you got louder, he pulled your hair back to make you arch against his chest.

“Yeah? You like how I ruin you?” He taunted, slamming into you from behind and causing the sound of skin slapping skin to echo across the room. “This pussy is mine.” He growled and gave your clit a gentle slap, making you practically scream out.

“M-Miguel…!” You were panting from how he’d made you so breathless, so overwhelmed by him.

“Be quiet, or do you want Gabi to know you’re a slut for me? That you love when I fuck you better than anyone ever could.” He went on and you nodded along. He was right. He’d ruined you for any other man. You’d never be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them to him.

“That’s right, amorcita, moan for me.” He egged you on as he bottomed out once more, making your legs shake. He lifted one of your knees to lean on the counter beside you and pounded into you from a new, deeper angle, giving you chills. That was it, that new spot he’d found made you come around him instantly, muscles tightening from the orgasm. You felt someone warm fill you, and realized he had finished as well. Grabbing your face harshly, he pulled your face sideways to give you a rough kiss as he kept himself inside of you for a few more moments.

You gasped for air as you felt him slip out of you, his seed dripping down your leg a bit and making you hyper aware of what just happened. You both stood, half dressed and heaving in silence. Your eyes found his, and everything hit you all at once. Grabbing your underwear and jean shorts off of the ground, you rushed out of the kitchen and began getting dressed as you walked.

“Wait-” He called out and yelled your name, but you were fast and he was still tucking himself back into his pants. As you reached the door, there was a knock and you buttoned your shorts as you swung open the door.

A nicely dressed woman, beautiful and tall, stood there holding a jacket. The two of you stared at each other for a second before she looked past you and smiled.

“Ah, Miguel! I realized you left your jacket in my car.” She spoke, then looked down at you. “Is this your daughter?”

Tears built up in your eyes and you looked back at Miguel, shocked.

“You were on a date?” Your words could’ve been poisonous with how you spoke to him, because they stung him terribly. His mouth was parted, still in shock.

You’d had enough. Your body pushed past the woman’s and you ran down the street to your home, only a few blocks away. It wasn’t your apartment, but your dad should be home and you could just tell him you didn’t want to talk about it. He never pushed you.

Knocking on the door, he opened it and immediately was afraid.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to stay here tonight, ok?” You spoke and he nodded, hugging your crying frame. Tonight had been too much to think about, and as he walked you in, you finally felt the exhaustion hit you. You trudged off to your bed and fell asleep.

Part 2

[josephquinnswhore]

Red Wine & Reparation

Pairing: joel miller x female reader

Summary: you and Joel became young parents, married young and divorced young.. coparenting can be hard.. especially when you still love each other.

Word Count: 7k

Content Warnings: no outbreak, awkward divorced young couple, Joel Miller being a cat guy, flirting, awkwardness, slight implication of attempted SA. Unprotected sex, oral—female receiving, praise, pet names, tongue fucking, slight submissive Joel???? Creampie, mentions of pregnancy, and breastfeeding kink ??

Note: in this fic female reader & Joel are the same age, late 20’s in this fic!! This is my contribution for this week lol.

You were expecting a visit from Joel in a few hours; although you’d tried to be in contact with him, it seemed he was struggling to get back to you. Texts gone unanswered, calls sent straight to voicemail. It was unusual, and as clingy as you felt, it wasn't like Joel not to be in contact, especially when it came to your daughter, Sarah.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He calls your name from the other side of the door. “Hey, you home?”

The door swings open and Joel stands on the other side of the door, you can't ignore the subsequent look of franticness in his brown eyes. “Hey.” His second greeting is a little more relaxed, if anything a little bashful. The tips of his ears are red under his dark brown curls.

“I just got a new phone, had a little malfunction at work with the other one, mind putting your number in?” You take the new phone, something that seemed way too fancy for Joel, an Iphone 13. As if your eyebrows raise of their own accord, it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

“I never took you for a man that cared about keeping up with the trends.” Your remark earns a scoff. “I just want to be able to keep up with everything Sarah’s into these days, all the facebooking and snapping or whatever she's got.”

His social unawareness pulls a laugh from her dry throat. “I'm surprised she wants you on her snapchat, teenage girls don’t normally want their parents seeing what they’re up to.”

He grunts. “How are you anyway—both of you.. I mean.”

“Things have been okay, I've taken a step back from work to try and relax a bit more, you know?” Although Joel nods, he can't relate, he’d just gone through the ringer of starting his own business with Tommy.

But Joel knows you need a break, he notices the physical telltale signs of stress. Lines beside your eyes that didn't seem visible a few months ago, the slight strain in yout voice and even your physical stance seems off. You seem to be trying to mask it, but he notices.

“Everything at work alright? They givin’ you trouble again?”

Again. How you'd forgotten about the last time you confided about how bad work had been getting. The unpaid overtime and extensive workload. Joel seemed furious at the thought of you wearing yourself thin and had even rung your workplace, that's an incident that got you a written warning.

In an attempt to dismiss his worries you wave your hand. “Ah it's not so bad, I’ve taken some time off with what little annual leave I have.”

“That’s good. You work too hard, you do.” His voice is softer than it had been a moment ago, his gaze settling on your own. He tries his hardest to suppress the memories as he stares into your eyes, he tries to forget how easy things were back then in comparison to now.

You break eye contact as you feel your kitten rubbing herself up against your legs. The little creature lets out a small mew.

Joel’s shock is evident on his face, the fluffy white bundle of fur rubs itself along your pant leg, its tiny mews echoing in his ears. “Oh my god, what in the world..” He stammers. “Is that…?”

Your entire face heats up. “I know.. I've never been a fan of cats but.. She's cute right?”

Joel can't help the instinctual reaction to kneel down onto the floor to get a closer look at the fluffy bundle of fur. He lets the small creature sniff his hand before petting her. With every stroke of his fingers along her pointed ears, she purrs louder. “What's her name?”

“Her names angel. Sarah named her.”

“Of course she would,” Joel murmurs, still petting the kitten as he looks up at you from the floor. “How'd you end up with a kitten anyhow?”

You huff at the memory. “Found her on the side of the road, I think someone dumped her.”

“God, that’s terrible. Why would anyone do something like that? Who just dumped a living animal in the middle of the road?” He shakes his head as he grumbles angrily. He strokes the kitten in a softer manner, expressing his sympathy for the little animal.

You're stewing in your own irritation at the thought. “Some jackass.”

The conversation seems to grow quiet, with the only noise being the kitten’s contented purrs. “She's a lucky kitty is what she is, havin’ two special girls lookin’ after her.” He murmurs, leaning in to tickle the small kitten under the chin with a chuckle.

“I never took you for a cat man, hell—you're looking like such a softie right now,” you tease.

“It's the one thing you never really knew then, right?” The kitten rolls on its back, purring as it scratches itself on the soft creamy carpet. “I bet you would’ve known all my soft spots had things been different back then.”

A sombre mood falls between the two. “Maybe so..”

Joel turns away with a regretful look in his eyes, it's a painful truth, and one the pair had both seemed to accept. Despite the way the two had seemed to adapt to the co-parenting situation.. They're both reminded every single day since their split of what could have been.

“Yeah.. maybe so.” He lets out a sigh, watching as the small kitten runs off, and he's left kneeling on the floor as he watches after it. He doesn't really know what to say.. And he's not sure you do either, it’s awkward to have these quiet moments between them.

“You know.. Sarah told me you went on a date last week.” You try to sound as encouraging as possible, but even as your heart cracks, it seems to break the silence brewing between you. And honestly, you’re nosey.

His face seems to redden at your playful accusation. “Damn.. she really has no filter, does she?” An awkward chuckle follows as he lets out a small groan and his knees crack as he stands up off the floor. As his gaze meets your own again, he wonders how you'll take the news. If he’s lucky, you’ll be jealous.

“She's a smart kid.. observant.” A small moment of silence briefs the conversation before you can stop yourself from asking.. “How was it? The date I mean.”

“That she is..” Joel murmurs before adding reluctantly. “The date was just.. Not a good fit. It didn't go well.” He shrugs, but you knew it would've been a massive blow to his self esteem. “I don't know why I tried… just thought.. maybe..” He rubs the back of his head and chuckles anxiously as he trails off.

It seems his self esteem did take quite the blow.

“Don't be so hard on yourself now, you're a catch, and any good woman will see that.”

Joel’s eyes narrow into a frown. “I'm hardly a catch.. Let's be real, I work too much.” He pauses. “Maybe I'm still caught up on..” He catches himself before he admits it..

Your ears perk at this. “Who doesn't love a hardworking man.” You tease lightly.

He manages a smile at your teasing. “I’m not a catch.. this..” He gestures to himself pitifully. “Is not a catch. Truth be told I’m.. I'm still pretty caught up on you and I'm not even ashamed to say it.”

“Hell—why?” Is all you manage to ask in a stutter.

“Because..” He lets out a frustrated noise and scratches his head anxiously. “Because I should have fought for you, I should have tried harder. You were everything I wanted. Still are.. Honestly.” His tone takes a solemn tone. “That doesn't just go away, all of those feelings.”

“You're right.. They don't just go away.” Your agreement to his statement has him wondering, his eyes searching your face for any sliver of teasing.

“So.. what does that mean? If I was to say.. If I was to ask something stupid.. Would you be angry?”

You're a little confused by his sudden bashfulness. “That depends on what you're asking.”

“Hypothetically..” He starts. “If I were to ask you out on a date, for old times sake..” He trails off and doesnt look back at you, there's a pregnant silence between you both..

“You want to take me on a date?” You ask in confusion.

He clears his throat and looks up to you, his eyes shifting around the room. “Is that a stupid question?”

“Well.. how about you ask me on a real date and maybe… I’ll say yes..”

His head spins in a daze, his heart doubles in size as he realises how much he wants this. “...are you serious?”

You simply nod, waiting for him to ask you on a date properly.

He's nervous, shifting from foot to foot, as if this was the hardest thing he's ever had to ask. “Okay then..” He mumbles to himself, clearing his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Would you care to.. Join me for a dinner date.. at my place?”

He actually asked..

“I would be happy to join you for dinner, Joel.”

It seems as if he's having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that you actually accepted. Even though it's what he wanted, needed.. He had somehow still expected you to decline. The look in your eye contractics his anxiety, though.

“You sure?” He asked, insecurity evident in his shallow voice. “I mean, you still remember how much I work, right? I have to finish this job for a client, he's on my ass about it, keeps asking me when I'm gonna be finished, but I told him I'm on track. Gonna put in some big hours to get this done.”

How could you forget, it was the reason you split all those years ago. His work was all consuming.

Your heart aches at his attempt to push you away–to take your pending rejection on the chin. “How about you let me know when you're free and you can cook for me, hm?”

The offer was flexible, giving him a chance to relieve himself of the pressure and try to find a day that works for you both.

Joel seemed to appreciate the offer, and his face visibly relaxed. “That sounds perfect, as soon as this project is done, and this client is off my ass, then we’ll figure out our date.”

“Sounds great, just send me a text and let me know, yeah?” You smile and tuck your phone into your jean pocket.

“Count on it.” He spoke with such promise it was hard not to get excited about what was to come.. Maybe they could rekindle what they once had. “I'll talk to you later then?” He takes a step towards the front door, his phone rings loudly, you assume it's a client of his.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later..”

As you close the door, it takes a moment to process what had just happened. A stupidly big smile resides on your lips, giddy with excitement, the disbelief that this is happening. Joel doesn’t text till late, but you’re ecstatic that he did get into contact about something other than who has custody of Sarah for the weekend.

Joel Miller 😉 10:45 pm

Hey, I'm sorry it's late, I just wanted to catch up. How's this weekend sound to you? For our date..

You. 10:47 pm

No sweat. What time were you thinking?

Joel Miller 😉 10:50 pm

Hoping to see you around 7. I'll cook dinner and we can just hang out. Unless you wanted to do something else?

You. 10:52 pm

No. it sounds perfect. 7 works for me.

Joel Miller 😉 10:53 pm

Great.. See you at 7 then.. Saturday..

You. 10:53 pm

Great! See you then handsome. 😉

Joel Miller 😉 10:58 pm

See you, beautiful. 😜😏😊

You can't help but laugh at the emojis Joel sent; he was such an old man that didn't understand a damn thing about technology, sure he was trying, but it seemed to get the better of him.

The week is slow and miserable, with your time off work and Sarah at school, you're not sure what to do with yourself for many hours of the days that slowly pass on by. You spend a lot of time reading your books that had sat and collected many layers of dust on the bookshelf in your living room, even taking your little kitten, angel, for walks on a small leash.

You find that as you become moderately okay with being alone, and in the company of naught but a small kitten, time seems to pass by much quicker than it did.

You'd been doting on what you'd wear all week–hell, you were still trying not to think too much about it. Choosing a simple lavender sundress, it was far too hot to wear anything that would stick to your skin. And whatever sin you’ve commited by wearing matching lavender lingerie is no one's business but your own.. Joel wouldn't know anyway.

It couldn't hurt to hope, right? It had been years since you been laid.

“God what the hell is wrong with me?” You murmur to yourself, one hand desperately clutching onto a bottle of red wine, as if you couldn't make it any more awkward. It's 6:50 pm. But you couldn't bare to sit across the damned street in your car a moment longer, your heart ager and anxiety running wild.

Knock, knock. Your hand raps on the hardwood door twice, hands shaking from being so anxious.

As the door opens, Joel grins. “Hey.. you're early.” Taking in his appearance, you can't help but swallow the saliva that had built up in the few seconds you’d spent greedily staring at him. Hell— it was only a brown cotton shirt and a pair of jeans, but he looked incredible.

“I know.. I hope that's okay.” His own eyes take a moment to appreciate your outfit, the perfectly fitting seam of lavender purple that fits snug around your breasts.

“Totally fine, I’m ready in here.. I made you something special.” The grin on his face is cheeky and he takes the bottle of wine from your trembling hands and opens the door wider for you to enter. “Come on in.”

He has absolutely outdone himself, it seemed Joel had managed to clean the entire house in the week coming up to this evening. The house is cleaner than it's ever been, his kitchen is full of colour of fruits and a wonderful aroma swirls around as you walk through the hallway. The counter is a little cluttered with spices and a half drunken can of beer.

“You've absolutely outdone yourself joel.” The compliment seemed to naturally expel from your lips, seeing how he had set the dining table up, in the middle was a simple summer salad and two wine glasses, as if he knew you'd be bringing the wine..

“I would be a terrible host if I didn't have something special in store for you..” As he trails off, the sound of a timer from the kitchen buzzes, and Joel rubs his hands together. “Here, why won't you take a seat?” He pulls the chair out, waiting for you to take the offer, of course you accept, taking a seat and he tucks your chair in.

“Be back in a moment with the food, make yourself comfortable.” The smell is absolutely incredible as Joel steps back out of the kitchen and sets a steaming pan of hot pasta right in front of you, sitting on the seat across from you.

“Jesus, how in the world? I remember all those years ago you couldn't even seem to grasp the concept of avocado toast.”

Joel laughs halfheartedly at your comment. “I wasn't much of a cook back then was I? Always relying on you to use your magic in the kitchen.” He grasps the wine and opens the bottle, pouring you a generous glass. “The fact that you remember that is pretty impressive though. That had to be what.. five or six years ago?”

You can't help but feel embarrassed to be caught out. “I guess I have a knack for remembering things, god.. Sarah would have been barely five back then..”

When you split..

Joel senses the tension in your voice, and serves himself some wine, taking a small sip. “Yeah, she was pretty young back then. It seems like only yesterday that she was a baby..” He takes a small pause as he reminisces. “I always liked when you carried her around in that sling you had for her. Never really understood why you didn't just use a pram..the sling seemed like much more work.”

You let out a small laugh. “I just liked having her close to me, and I hated those goddamn prams so much. I could never figure out how to use the stupid things.”

“Yeah, they were kinda bulky.. I never liked them much either, honestly. Still.. You'd spend like an hour just letting her nap on your chest, you would just carry her around the house.” He lifts the wine glass, his cheeks bare a resemblance to the dark red wine. “I always thought it was kinda adorable.”

The thought makes you stop and think, lifting the glass up to your lips to take a tentative sip. “Do you ever wish we could have a do over?”

He swallows the small amount of wine in his mouth, the smile that was on his face slowly fades. He never thought they would ever speak of this, of their past. He held a lot of guilt, that they fell apart because of him, he was the one who ruined a good thing. Now.. six years later, he had a chance to mend things, maybe even create something new between the two. “Every day.”

The silence hangs in the air between them for a few moments.. “Well.. either way. Sarah turned out wonderful, and that is something we both ought to be proud of.” Your hand meets his own for a brief moment.

Joel can't help but nod in agreement. Sarah was kind, intelligent, thoughtful and empathetic. He couldn't help but feel like Sarah was turning out more like you than him, and he was grateful for it. “But still, I can't help but want.. I don't want a do-over. What we had was good until I screwed it up, I just wish there was some way I could make up for that.”

“Hey—come on now.. You were working overtime back then..trying to keep our heads above water. I didn't.. I didn't understand the sacrifice you were making for our family back then.. You sacrificed a lot, joel..”

Joel looks up at you in surprise when you assure him of his goodwill. In a sense, he's grateful you're defending him, but you’ve always been too kind about the past, too forgiving, he doesn't know if he deserves it. “Yeah I was working a tonne of overtime.. I was trying to save up for a house, I wanted to take care of you both.. Guess it got out of hand.”

You can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia as you look around the house that you both raised Sarah in for the first five years of her life.. “You did it Joel, you got the house and.. Now you're starting up your own business. You've come a long way.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it, I missed out on a lot of Sarah's younger years in the process… it's not time that I can get back.. and I know it was my own doing.”

“That was your sacrifice.. And it was so she could have a good childhood. That in itself makes you an incredible father. She knows what you did for us, for her, and she loves you.”

Joel knew that much was true, he concedes this as the truth. He couldn't deny that he had an incredible relationship with his daughter. There were many things joel regretted in his life and from the past, but he couldn't recall a single moment of regret when it came to how he chose to raise Sarah.

“I think we're well overdue for some more wine, wouldn't you say?” You grin, nodding toward the bottle, and with a small smirk, Joel complies, filling your glass half full and his own the same.

“That may be true,” he replies playfully. “But I'm still gonna need you to take it easy. I'm not prepared for what you'll be like once you're tipsy.”

“I'll be on my best behaviour.” You grin, almost too mischievously.

“I'm not believing that for a single second. I know you.. as soon as the wine hits, you’re gonna lose your inhibitions and start trying to charm me.”

Rolling your eyes is an appropriate response. “As if I need to try to charm you, Joel Miller.”

“See?” He chuckles, “even now, you're flirting with me.”

You are amused by his tone and can't help but be a smartass. “Hey—this is a date.. Isn't it?”

With genuine amusement in his tone, he laughs. “Well, I suppose it is. But you can't deny that if I keep pouring you this wine, you wont end up in my lap within the half hour?”

“Pour me another glass and find out.” You challenge, setting the now empty glass in front of him.

He raises an eyebrow, but pours you a third glass of wine, handing the glass back to you. “Here you go.” He wonders if he'll be right in his prediction.

You hold the glass up and take a sip, eyes closing momentarily as the warmth slides straight down to your stomach. Silently thanking him.

Joel leans back into his chair, after topping up his own glass that wasn't quite empty yet, watching you with a brightness in his eyes. “You know, even though we haven't been an actual couple in half a decade, it's still nice to be having one of these again.. as strange as that sounds.”

With a raised eyebrow and amusement in your tone. “I dont think its strange at all, I think it's wonderful.”

He hums in response, finally digging into the pasta that had been sitting there since he served it steaming hot off the stove, you follow in tow, deciding that your stomach has somehow made room for the deliciously smelling creamy pasta. You can't help but groan in delight as you chew the creamy pasta. “Fucking delicious.” You mutter.

As the two of you decide to eat, Joel notes that you’re out of wine… “I'll get another bottle.” You insist, seeing that he's digging into his dinner.

You know your way around the kitchen you'd spent years living in, reaching upward for the wine cupboard, it seems you can't quite reach, whispering to yourself.. “Goddamnit.” You don’t realise you’ve been staring at the cupboard for a few minutes until you hear him.

“Having some trouble?” You don't have the nerve to turn around at how husky his voice sounds. He decided to take advantage of the fact that he had disarmed you with his voice alone, and slips up behind you, his chest flush against your back. He doesn't bother to help you reach the wine, instead he wraps his arms around your waist.

You can't help but lean backwards into him, closing your eyes as you lean your head backward into his shoulder. Your heart skips at the sensation of him pulled taut against you, it had been too long since he held you like this.

His hand caresses the side of your neck, and he whispers softly into your ear. “How's the wine treating you baby? Seems like your skin is a little warm..” He teased boldly.

“Who said it's got anything to do with the wine? My handsome ex husband is holding me— I think that calls for some mandatory blushing, does it not?”

Joel chuckles and squeezes you tighter around your hips, his body pressing against yours firmly, your hips pressed against the bench. “Ex-husband… is that what I am to you now?” He asked, smirking.

You can't help but laugh breathlessly. “Legally, yes.”

“Legally, maybe,” he replies, his smirk broadening. “But in my eyes.. Who you truly belong to is not a matter of legality..” He leans in and whispers softly into your ear, his lips tickle the skin. “Just a matter of heart..”

You shudder as his warm breath warms your ears. “Joel Miller, the romantic.”

“What can I say, you bring out the best in me.” He replies softly, lips against your neck, his voice carries a seductive undertone. One hand slides up your arms and he grabs you to spin you around, his eyes boring into you as your back is pushed against the counter, you’re forced to meet his gaze as his hand grips the nape of your neck. “Do you want to know what I really think about you?”

His sudden manoeuvre has her shocked into near silence. “What do you think of me Joel?”

He hesitates, trying to find the right words. He can't mess this up, not with your large and vulnerable eyes watching him. “You're beautiful,” he praised softly. “You have the most kind-hearted soul I've ever known.. You're a wonderful mother… and you’ll be the only one I’ll ever truly want..”

Maybe the wine helped him be bold enough to be truthful in this moment, or oversharing. He felt like this might be the only chance he might have.

“Why did it take half a bottle of wine for you to tell me all this?” You mumble.

Joel goes quiet. He can't help but stare down at you, the smirk on his lips fades, you'd always been able to see through him. “I was scared,” a note of humility in his voice. “Scared that once you knew, you wouldn't want to look at me again. I always thought you were out of my league, ya know? I didn't deserve someone like you…still don't know if I do.”

His self depreciation was never something you would come to accept. “Don't talk like that, Jesus Joel. You really have no idea how much I love you, do you?”

“How can you still love me?” He asks, although he's almost afraid of the answer you'll give. “I hurt you, I let myself drift so far from what mattered..”

“Joel… you've done nothing that isn't worth forgiving,” you promise softly.

Joel can't help himself as he pulls you against him, chest to chest. He holds you tightly, as if it might be the last time…”But that's the problem,” he said softly. “Not that what I did isn’t forgivable…but that it didn't need to happen in the first place. It hurts me just thinking about how much I lost sight of things, but it can't have been worse than how much I must've hurt you…”

Your hands have a mind of their own as they cup his cheeks, making him look down at you. “Now you listen to me, okay? I love you. Things were not easy for us back then.. We were young parents and struggling to pay the bills, parenthood hit us fucking hard and we didnt make it..” You sigh, your eyes full of love and vulnerability. “Hell—I don't even remember half of it… but were here now, we have a chance to make things better than they were, we can start new.”

He nods as he rests his forehead against your own, a small smile on his lips. You easily wipe away any insecurity and self guilt he held for their split. You were right, of course. This wasn't the time to dwell on the past, on what could've been, not when the two of you were here… now, with a brand new start. “Let's try again, huh?” He asks in a low whisper.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you nod against his own warm skin. “Let's try again…”

His hands are warm as they caress your cheeks, he pulls you into him for a kiss, lips meeting and you're flooded with emotion, all the doubt and uncertainty you both held washed away as soon as your lips connected. The bittersweet aftertaste of wine lingers on your warm lips. He struggled to pull away from you, but he looked down at your loved filled eyes, gazing softly up at him. “God, I've missed that.” He whispers softly.

He brushes a handful of strands of loose hair out of your face, looking down at you, you note his pupils are dilated. “You still take my breath away,” he laughs softly, caressing your cheek.

You flush at his praise. “Trying to get in my good books already?”

He was definitely trying. “You can't fault me for trying, I could really use some brownie points right now, ya know?”

Laughing at his sense of humour, you roll your eyes. “You're a crooked man Joel, and I love it.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?” An amused tone in his voice, his body pressing against your own. He leans down to kiss you again softly, his hands caressing your waist and letting his fingers trail up the side of your torso.

“Of course it's a compliment—other men have their heads on straight and they are just…weird. You're a little crooked, a little weird, and I like that..”

The way you accept his flaws leaves him more in awe of you, he can't complain at how endearing you find his oddities. “And so youre saying it's a good thing that I'm a little unhinged at times?” He chuckles, reaching up under your chin to trace small shapes on the soft skin.

You have a little mischief twinkling in your eyes.. “Oh you know—when you get all angry and protective. Definitely crooked, but so sexy.”

“You find it hot when I get territorial over you?” He couldn't help but laugh at her admission.

The wine flows through you, giving you a sense of boldness. You run a hand down his chest, manicured fingers tickling him through the brown cotton shirt. “Do you remember that time I was on a date with that jackass, I was drunk outta my mind—”

He scowls at the memory of that night, you, his ex-wife on a date with some chump named James. The man had tried to take you home, even though you were inebriated. “Yeah, I do,” he replied with a possessive tone to his voice. “You were wasted, couldn't even walk straight.. But I knew what that animal was thinking, I could see the way he looked at you.”

“All I could remember was how infuriated you were, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen..” Your eyes draw him in, batting your lashes at him.

Joel smirks, a light blush spreading from his neck up his cheeks, to his ears from your comment. “You thought it was sexy huh? I thought I'd lost my shit and went a little overboard..”

You can only shrug, unbothered by his reaction at that time. “Oh—maybe you did, I mean you did beat him to a pulp in that forsaken carpark, didn’t you baby? All for me.”

“That prick needed his ass kicked either way,” he growls. “There was no way I was letting him have you.. Drunk or not, that man crossed a line, and I’d do it all over again.”

Your heart doubles in size, and you can feel your knees weakening. “You'd do it all over again?”

He doesn't hesitate. “I'd do it a thousand times over.. At that moment.. in my mind, you were still my girl, being hit on by some creep. And I wasn't going to let him take you away from me.” He pauses, wondering if his explanation sounded too crazy. “You still meant alot to me.. Even after we split.. You always have.”

You run a finger down his cheek, the coarse hairs of his beard make a sound that sends a tingle down your spine. “What I wouldn't do to see that side of you again.”

Joel tilts his head slightly and takes a moment to ponder your comment. He was surprised to hear you admit how much you loved this dominant and possessive side of him. “That side of me.. You want to see it again, cause I can make it happen, baby girl. Just say the words.”

You couldn't help the way you trembled, sure that the only thing keeping you up right was Joel's hips pressing against your own, back digging into the bench. “Please,” you beg pathetically. His hand reaches up to your neck, holding you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. He applies a small amount of pressure that has you whimpering.

The way you melt under his possessive gesture was enough for him to feel confident that this side of him was still within reach and you loved it. He leans closer to you and kisses you again, this time more forcefully. He lets his fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing firmly while knowing it's not causing you pain or discomfort.

Hearing your squeaking moans, and the way your body seems to relax into him as he takes control of you.. He takes this as motivation to move his lips against yours with a different kind of hunger. Feeding into the darker side of himself, trying to recapture that long-lost side of him that he's lost after letting you walk out of his life.

But he wouldn't let you go, no, not this time. He had his fingers digging into your flesh and his lips moving against yours with so much force, he shoves his tongue into your mouth..

His free hand wanders along your body, feeling the warmth of the wine and from the heat of his touch, your body reacting exactly how it used to, as if no time has passed at all. His hand gropes your breast roughly, squeezing and slipping past the two layers of fabric. He pulls away from your lips, eyes darkening. “Wearing a lace bra just for me, huh baby? Bet you've got a matching set on, don't you?” He growls.

“Y–Yes..” A feeble moan emits from your lips, smothered in his spit. The thought drives him wild, and slides down the straps to your dress and takes in the lavender lace bra you brought specially for tonight. “Fuck, you’re a naughty girl aren’t you?”

When you don't respond, he grabs at your breasts roughly, grasping the soft flesh between his calloused fingers, pinching your nipples harshly, making you cry out in pleasure, it was a sensitive spot for you, one that Joel remembered well.

He leans down, greedily sucking all the sweat off your warm skin, licking and nipping, his teeth biting down into the flesh of your neck, leaving an immediate mark, claiming his stake on you. You were his..

His lips messily kissed your breasts, tongue finally meeting the nipple where he suckled harshly, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Do you remember when you were pregnant? Let me drink your milk straight from the source, didn’t you baby? Fuck.. what I wouldn’t give to do that again,” he whimpers against your skin.

Your heart races, running your fingers through his dark hair. He spends his time at your breasts, alternating pleasuring the two, making sure they’re both equally as tended to as the other. “Tits are so fucking perfect baby.” He praises.

His greedy hands trail down your body, the fabric of your dress bunching at his fingers, as he slides them down your legs, he’s on his knees.. face to face with the matching lavender lace panty that covers your pussy. An involuntary moan leaves his lips, he can’t tear his eyes away at the large sopping wet patch in the middle of your panties. “Fucking hell, I can smell your need, you know that?”

Your legs tremble at his sudden growl, he could smell her arousal? The thought embarrassed her. The thought didn’t stay long in her head, he presses his face into your cunt with the panties still on, moaning against you. His large nose bumping your swollen clit through the material, and you let out a whine and curl your fingers through his hair. “Please Joel.. I need more.”

He ignores your pleas for more, licking and sucking you through your panties, he can taste you through them, he’s like an animal being teased through a cage, and he’s painfully hard, teasing the both of you with his devilish antics.

“Fuck Joel! Please!” You beg a little louder, crying out as she tugs on his hair.

Without another moment passing, his thick fingers tear the lace in half, exposing your mound. You didn’t shave, your pubic hair was trimmed but still bush enough for Joel to dive into. His mouth watered, he had always had a preference for hair down there, he’d seen it in pornography magazines growing up, and he fucking desired it ever since.

Women these days are all about shaving, being bare and having brazilians.

Fuck that. This is what Joel needed.

“Fucking hell baby you’re gonna kill me.” He groaned into your cunt. Diving face first, his arms wrap around your ass and pull you tight, his face buried into your cunt as far as he could go.

You stumble and lift one leg over his shoulder, trying to support yourself a little more. It feels impossible though, the way Joel’s tongue dives into your cunt, lapping at the juices you’re giving him, pushing his tongue as far into your hole as he can reach. His hawkish nose presses into your clit and you feel your legs trembling, like you’re about to topple over.

“Joel..” you warn breathlessly. You’re close, so fucking close.

“Cum for me baby. Fuck.. please.” Suddenly he was the one begging, on his knees lapping at your cunt, whining against you. Feeling him beg against you was all it took for you to come undone.. your legs buckle and you tremble above him, clutching onto his shoulder, as you cry out, your clit tingles with pleasure as Joel slowly rolls his tongue against it, trying to string out your orgasm.

He laps you up, all of you, not letting a single drop go to waste, his eyes are black with desire and his face is glistening with you, smeared all over his face, finally, he rises to his feet. “Turn around baby girl.” He orders, his voice husky from your slick.

You can do nothing but comply, he shoves you against the counter, your hips against the cold wood. You can hear him, his breaths are quick, he’s frantically unbuckling his belt, tying the brown leather around your wrists..

You feel his hard cock against your ass, and your eyes widen, forgetting how big he was, did he get bigger?

With one hand he pushes you down onto the bench so you’re lying, face down. “That’s it angel. You’re so fucking sweet, aren’t you baby?” He praises senselessly, the swollen tip of his cock meets your hole and you squeak out, he stretches you, beyond what you ever remembered. “J-Joel.” You whine and inhale sharply, face still pressed against the cold countertop, arms bound behind your back and his throbbing thick cock pushing inside of you, you’re helpless, completely at his mercy and you fucking love it.

Your cunt can testify the fact, it’s dripping, all over Joel, he pushes himself into the hilt of you and groans loudly, a loud grunt leaving his lips. One hand holds you flat against the counter, the other holds your bound arms at his chest.

He slowly starts to thrust, legs quaking with desire, he knows he won’t last long, fuck, he’s never had a pussy so perfect, not after you, all he knows is the warmth of you, your perfectly tight hole, sucking him in deeper.

Your moans are loud, but muffled by your cheeks squished against the counter, you can almost feel him in your ribs, with every thrust it feels like you’re running out of oxygen. Strangled gasps leave your lips as your pussy clenches around him, threatening to spill over a second time..

Joel can feel it, the way you grip him, he knows he won’t last, he grunts as he presses himself flush against you, your arms behind your back hinder his need to be closer to you, but this way.. he wraps his hand around your neck, bringing you upright, flush to his chest.

“Fuck, that’s it baby.” He growls, his cock pummels into you mercilessly, and now you’re free to cry out as loud as you can.

“Joel.. Joel.. I’m.. I..” you stutter, in between moans, your cunt clenching around him. You tense up as you orgasm a second time, creaming all over his throbbing cock.

He brings you totally upright, his hand tightening around your throat. “Fuck baby.. I’m gonna cum.. fill this perfect pussy up.” He whimpered into your ear, biting down on your neck.

You can feel him tensing, seconds later.. heavy and warm ropes of his cum spurt so far into your womb you whimper, knowing that he’s sure to get you knocked up.. again. He lets out the most obnoxious grunting as he pants heavily into your ears.

“Joel.. fuck I’m.. not on birth control.” You whimper. He keeps his cock inside of you, until he softens and pulls out of you, untying the belt that restrained your hands, as your hands fall limply by your sides, he kisses your shoulders, knowing there’s ought to be an ache.

“Good. Maybe we can have a do over after all, hm?” He murmurs softly, kissing the back of your neck. His hands find their way down to your stomach, caressing it softly. “Wouldn’t hurt to have just one more.. would it?”

After all, Joel Miller was a possessive man, a greedy man. You would bare as many children as he wished, because you weren’t ever going anywhere again. You were his.

“Might as well marry me again while you’re at it.” You tease breathlessly.

He hums against your skin, his forehead resting on the back of your shoulder. “Already thinkin’ bout it baby.”

Because Joel Miller wouldn’t let you get away, not this time.

[occatorcreator]

Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

1 - Family Lost

Purple and his mother receive a grim diagnosis, and Purple struggles to find a cure to save his only living family member.

Content Warnings: Disease and Major Character Death

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Purple stared up at the clock that punctuated the silent waiting room with its ticking. 

10:15 am. His morning elective class was close to wrapping up. He distantly thought that he should care about what he’ll miss at school, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than the hammering of the clock and how long he waited for a response.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

He looked from the clock to the door, waiting for a nurse to come and summon him. Right now, he had been in the hospital for over two hours and there hadn’t been any updates on his mother’s current condition.

If I had slept in, Purple thought, tapping his foot with anxious energy in time with the clock, would she not have made it?

The thing was, he almost had. He had almost shut his blaring alarm off and gone back to sleep. He really hadn’t been in the mood to go to school this morning; he was sure there was a test in math, and he wasn’t ready for it. School was… well, it had become more unpleasant since the divorce. Despite it being a year since Navy left, thoughts of the divorce sent his mind into a negative tailspin. All those times Navy ragged on him to wake up “bright and early” every day for routine exercise, and all those times he got annoyed by Purple’s fussing made him resent the idea of getting up at all.

He debated sleeping in to spite Navy, but what was the point of that? Not like Navy would show up to witness the spite. All that would come of sleeping in would be the omelets mom prepared growing cold. She was the only parent he had left now; he couldn’t let her down by being a brat about school.

And now he faced the possibility of having no parents… he found his mother fallen to the kitchen floor, unconscious, with the omelets burning.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Every second not knowing if Orchid was alright or dead drove Purple mad. He had driven as quickly as he could to the hospital and made enough of a scene in the emergency room to get her wheeled in right away. The doctors had escorted him to a nearby waiting room after they took Orchid to treatment, offering reassurance and describing some procedure they’re doing.

Knowing that barely worked to calm him down. Purple was no longer actively panicking, but he was fretting. He hated sitting. It was the inability to do anything but wait, unsure what the response would be, unable to take his mind off of anything but his prayers that things will be alright.

Tick tock. Tick- creak.

The door grabbed Purple’s attention. He stood up preemptively, ready to meet the nurse, only to blanch back as a giant orange stick figure ducked his way through the door frame. Clutching at his massive hand was a golden child, about four or five years old. He looked nervously around the room, sticking close to the orange stick’s leg.

“Just have a seat, Mr. Tango,” the nurse said. “We’ll call you when they’re done.”

The stick figure nodded at the nurse with a sour expression.

“Will Second be okay?” the child asked the nurse.

“Your older sibling will be fixed up,” the nurse said, smiling softly. “It’s just a minor fracture.”

And what about my mother? Purple wanted to ask. Is she going to be okay? 

The question died on his tongue as Mr. Tango passed by him to take a seat. Purple instantly stepped back from the towering figure. By the time he and his child found a place to sit, the nurse had already left, shutting the door.

Great, still nothing, Purple thought, returning to his seat. He missed the prior solitude of the waiting room. With other stick figures around, he felt self conscious of his worrying. Not to mention, one of them was a small child. Purple wasn’t ready for the annoyance that would follow when that small child inevitably got bored and started wandering around, looking for things to do.

“Hello,” the child waved at Purple.

Purple took a deep breath, counted mentally to two, and looked at the child standing before him with what he hoped was a neutral expression.

“Hi,” he greeted half-heartedly.

The child tapped his hands together nervously, eyes looking down at Purple’s feet upon the less-than warm response. Somehow his sour mood didn’t send the kid crawling to his parent, which made Purple raise an eyebrow.

“What do you want?” Purple asked, baring his teeth in a false grin.

“Um, can I have that?” The child asked, pointing at the table filled with magazines.

Purple waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not using it, and you don’t need to ask. Just take it.”

The child brightened and grabbed a magazine. He retreated back to sit by his father, who’s cold gaze regarded Purple in a way that made Purple’s skin crawl. The giant’s gaze reminded him of Navy’s.

Specifically, the day Navy left. He could never forget that cold and guarded stare despite Orchid’s best attempts to shield them from him.

“I guess this is it, then,” Navy said, “I’m leaving.”

Don’t think about him, Purple mentally scolded, closing his eyes to refocus on the present.

With nothing else to get his mind off of the past and present situation, he watched as the child flipped through the magazine. It didn’t take long for the child to realize that magazines were mostly advertisements and boring articles he couldn’t read before he placed it to the side. He caught that Purple was looking at him, and Purple failed to look away in time.

“My sibby broke their thumb.”

Sibby? Purple didn’t know how to comment on that odd shorthand for sibling. 

“Ah…How did that happen?” It took Purple a full second before he found his voice. He got the feeling the kid was a bit of a chatterbox, how unfortunate. Purple had no desire to talk, but he felt like he couldn’t stay silent either.

Maybe this could get his mind off of things...

“My dad had a day off, took me and Second in the park,” the child said, “We did lots of fun stuff and it was really nice out. We were playing truth or dare, and I dared Second to punch a tree!”

He looked expectantly, waiting for Purple to supply a question. Yet when Purple only bothered with a raised eyebrow, Mr. Tango cleared his throat. 

“You two didn’t answer why you did that in the first place, Gold,” Mr. Tango said.

The child — Gold — looked down at his dangling legs, ashamed. “It’s cuz Sec’s as strong as you, dad.” Gold said, “I wanted to see if they could punch a hole in the tree.”

Punch a hole in a tree? Ridiculous. Purple scoffed.

“Still. Punching things without the proper technique can be dangerous,” Mr. Tango said. “I hope you two don’t do that again in the future.”

“We won’t, dad,” Gold said.

Again, Mr. Tango reminded Purple of Navy. That comment was a straight-out warning he said during sparring lessons. His father drilled in many basics on keeping yourself from breaking your arm while fighting. Having that reminder of his father again, combined with the ludicrousness of the child’s story, and the fact they were in the hospital over something so stupid made Purple surly. 

“Let me guess,” Purple said, “your sibling was dumb enough to tuck their thumb in their fist while punching?” 

That was harsh. Now both father and son were glaring at Purple. Purple could feel his heart hammering, desire to cower and apologize strong, but not strong enough to overcome anger brought on from constant fatigue and stress.

“Second’s not dumb!” Gold snapped. “They just didn’t know they needed to do that.”

Purple shrugged. “Sounds like the definition of dumb to me,” Purple said, “I mean tucking your thumb in is unnatural and uncomfortable, so why do that?”

“Not everyone comes into the world knowing everything there is to know,” Mr. Tango warned, “and I don’t care much for you insulting someone you hardly know.”

Mr. Tango said it with a threatening, low tone that made Purple reconsider and apologize for his meanness. 

Almost. He might have, had Gold kept his mouth shut.

“They managed to knock the tree down in one hit even when doing it wrong!” Gold bragged. “I bet you can’t do that!”

Inadvertently, Gold managed to hit a sore point for Purple. Orchid and Navy both were prolific fighters in their prime, strong and agile enough to break wood and cinder blocks with a well placed hit. Purple knew it could be done, but he was never strong enough, never fast enough to do it. All he got was painful bruising and a sprain so awful he gave up trying.

And given today, Purple’s fuse was short.

“You little liar,” Purple snapped, “no one can do that.”

“I’m not!” Gold balked, and he tugged on Mr. Tango’s arm. “Dad, you saw it too! Tell him! Second did punch a tree down!”

But there was a split second of hesitation in Mr. Tango’s gaze, that moment of doubt and skepticism. Before he had the chance to defend his son, Purple pounced.

“If your dad claims that, then he’s helping a liar,” Purple said, “I thought preschool taught you better than to make up stories for attention.”

“I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!” Gold yelled, and Purple saw that the child was so worked up that tears were forming in his eyes. “I’m not a liar!”

“What is your problem?” Mr. Tango snapped, standing up tall to get between Gold and Purple. He didn’t yell like Purple did, but clearly didn’t hide his anger. “You have no right to talk to my son like that.”

“Maybe if you didn’t want me to yell at your liar of a kid,” Purple snapped, standing back up, “then you should have parented better.”

“Excuse me?”

Purple stood up. He was a pipsqueak to the massive stick figure before him, his limbs shaking from fear and rage both. 

“I’m just saying, a kid who broke his wrist punching trees and one that makes up tall tales to strangers reflects poorly on you.” Purple said, “My parents wouldn’t hear me spouting such nonsense.”

“Where are they?” Mr. Tango asked, grinning without any joy. “I would like to talk with them about their parenting skills if they could raise someone who’d yell at children for little reason.”

To that Purple had no response.

Oh creator, what would mom think of me right now? Purple thought, visibly deflating and stared at the ground in shame.

Now the only sound there was the clocks ticking and Gold crying. Seeing no fight left in Purple, Mr. Tango sat down and started to console his child. Gold buried his head in his father’s chest, weeping and insisting he wasn’t a liar.

Creak

“Purple?” A nurse came in with a clipboard. 

“Yes?” Purple straightened himself up. “Is she ready?”

“She is,” the nurse nodded, his expression appearing grim despite his smile. “She wants to talk to you.”

Oh, good she’s awake, Purple thought, but still… the dread in his stomach grew. Why is the nurse looking at me like that if she’s awake?

“Okay. Take me to her.”

He followed the nurse out, ignoring the pressing glares of Mr. Tango and Gold following him out.

=

“Rapid aging syndrome?”

Purple sat by Orchid’s beside, holding her hand. Orchid was looking rather pale and frail, but she was alive. The doctors managed to stabilize her.

But only stabilize;  there was no cure for this condition.

“Yes,” Orchid said, “Explains a lot of things, like why I didn’t have the same stamina as your father even though we’re the same age.”

She said it with light airiness that nearly made Purple cry.

“But, this is a glitch in your programming, right?” Purple said, clearing his throat, “couldn’t they patch you?”

To that Orchid let out a shaky sigh and patted Purple’s hand. Purple noticed the faint tremor in her hands.

“They found out that they can’t,” Orchid said, plainly.

“Why not,” Purple asked, voice rising. “They’re doctors! Expert coders! They have to fix you! What sort of doctors would they be if they couldn’t?”

“It’s not that simple, honey,” Orchid hushed, “They discovered that my code’s corrupted. The fact they could stabilize me without losing my memories was a miracle in it of itself.”

“Surely, there’s a way around corruption,” Purple begged, “You mean to tell me they can’t stop you from just… aging to death?”

Orchid didn’t say anything at first. She looked up at the ceiling with an inscrutable expression. In that moment, Purple wondered how well she was taking the news that she was given a terrible death sentence, aging at an insanely rapid rate until she shriveled up to a husk. Looking at her now, all the marks Purple blamed on exhaustion or loss of appetite were the tell-tale signs of becoming an elder.

“The doctors gave me two choices,” Orchid said after a moment, “Either I would have 5 months left to live, or they would reset me.” She then turned to Purple. “And reset means full reset. My age, all of my memories… I would be as I was created, as my 18 year old self. I wouldn’t even recognize you as my son anymore. Even with that, I could still be… lost to a reset. There is no guarantee to save me.” Her expression turned pained. “You know which one I had to choose.”

“That’s so f-messed up,” Purple caught himself. But he wished he could swear. How could anyone sugarcoat that?

“The doctors will want to discuss care options in light of my condition,” Orchid said, “having nurses to care for me at home, or placing me in hospice care.”

“But we don’t have the money for a live-in nurse,” Purple pointed out quietly. 

Orchid hummed in agreement. “And I don’t want to be moved to hospice care if I can still stand and walk.” 

“I could care for you,” Purple offered. “Take off school for a bit-“

“I don’t want to place you in that position,” Orchid waved her hand, “and your education would suffer for it.“

“Mom, I’ll be blunt, my education has already suffered from… Navy leaving.” Purple couldn’t even say the divorce to her, “I won’t be able to focus on shoring up what’s left of my education knowing that your… that you're going to…”

He couldn’t say that either. He shan’t say it, or else he made it true. He didn’t want it to be true.

“Fair point…” Orchid muttered. She placed her hand on her chin and hummed. “There is always my creator,” Orchid paused, “I still have her email address, and I occasionally send her updates. We could stay with her for a while.”

“An actual human? With a desktop?” Purple asked. “Is it even possible for us to go there?”

Orchid nodded. “I’m certain something can be arranged once I reach out to my lawyer and get my affairs in order.”

“Don’t say that, mom,” Purple shook his head.

“I’m afraid we don’t have many options,” Orchid said, “Plus, it would be nice to take you to our childhood home.”

Our?  Purple thought, You mean, dad also grew up on that computer?

Purple wasn’t sure about going on a human’s computer with all the risks, but like Orchid said, it wasn’t like there was any better options they could take.

I’ll find something to save you from this fate, mom, he thought, I promise.

Purple kept this vow deep in his heart as the doctors returned.

=

Her name was Alana, and, despite his mom promising to take him to her childhood home, she clearly owned the latest Apple Macintosh. Alana was nice, nicer than what Purple expected of a human from his history class, and she welcomed Orchid and Purple upon their arrival through her email. They had to write out words on the email in order to communicate with her, but Purple learned he didn’t need to talk with Alana often. She was present for the first two days to ensure they settled on the desktop, before just disappearing and leaving them to their own devices for days on end.

Orchid explained most of the situation to Alana. She wasn’t fully candid about her diagnosis, but she shared that Purple was her and Navy’s son, and that they needed a place to stay in the meantime.

Alana asked only one question. “What happened to Navy?”

The awkward silence and body language from both Orchid and Purple told enough for Alana to discern something happened, but she didn’t feel the need to press.

Living on a desktop was a new experience, one Orchid was happy to guide Purple on.

“Ah, they updated so many things!” Orchid said in awe, “You’re getting a better experience than I did. The desktop is so lovely!”

She leaned down to press a button. It was the finder, and it opened up a series of apps. However, she let out a groan of pain as she struggled to stand back up.

“Careful!” Purple said, lifting her up, “you know you can’t move like you used to.”

Orchid looked forlornly at what she opened, rubbing her back. Stacks of icons stretched above her without any easy way to traverse them.

“Right. Climbing would be your strong suit, you have to do that a lot on a desktop,” she said, half muttering as the advice she gave came with a realization of her condition. That her body was too old to navigate something that she had done in her youth.

Purple had to watch her as that condition worsened overtime.

Not that Purple was idle during this time. He set to work making the desktop space more accommodating for an elder. He found Flash and constructed a crude house with the pencil tool. The linework wasn’t the neatest, but it was convenient, light enough for him to pick up the house and set it down, but sturdy enough that a punch wouldn’t knock it down.

He tried looking around for Orchid and Navy’s files. After all, if they were made, then that means there had to be backup copies somewhere around. Surely, Alana transferred their files to the new computer, there had to be something to counter the apparent corruption.

“Purple, please don’t be going into Alana’s files,” Orchid warned.

Purple nearly fell off the top of the directory, not expecting to hear her voice. It started to croak with age, a tremor of strain she didn’t use to have. She leaned on a crude cane Purple drew to help support herself. He hastily went down so she didn’t have to call him.

“I’m not doing anything shady,” Purple insisted, “I was hoping to find… something.”

Orchid gave him a look. A look he knew too well when she suspected Purple was up to one of his antics. He received that look a lot whenever the school called about his moments of less-than-stellar behavior. 

But as quickly as it appeared, it fell. “Look, I’m just warning you, if you poke around in her files and break it, she will be incredibly upset and hurt by that,” she chuckled lightly, “I’m speaking from experience here. Navy and I regretted how we clowned around back in the day.”

You? A trouble maker? Purple couldn’t help but smirk at the idea of Orchid, roughly around his age, causing trouble for her creator. But the smirk faded when that image contrasted the frail stick figure before him. 

“Why did Alana… make the both of you?” Purple asked.

Orchid blinked, not expecting the question. She fiddled with her cane, nails gently scraping against its side.

“I don’t know. Flash animation was new and there was a genre of animation that featured fighting stick figures beginning to form. I supposed Alana wanted to add a battle couple, but I couldn’t be certain.” 

Purple’s face curled at the thought. “Like she made you two to be a couple?”

“Not like that, she made us to be a team,” Orchid’s smile looked forlorn and she looked elsewhere, “the love came later.”

Purple shuffled awkwardly, knowing how that “love” ended for them all. “Why did you two leave the computer?”

“Stick City was new, and we both wanted to strike it on our own,” Orchid explained, “we wanted to be famous, and we didn’t feel like we could if we stayed on a desktop.” She let out a huff. “How funny that I ended up back here after all this time.”

“It’s not.”

“Well, Purple, I’d rather you not go poking around and getting into trouble.” Orchid placed her hand on Purple’s shoulder. “Come. I can show you some games on the Mac you can play in the meantime.”

“Games?”

“Yes, I know I can’t play the ones that are more active, but I don’t want that to stop you from experiencing the fun you can have on a desktop,” she said, “it’s way more immersive.”

Purple opened his mouth to argue something, before closing it and nodding.

I really can’t go against her wishes now, Purple thought, besides, there are healing items in games, maybe I can find something to fix her?

“What do you recommend I try, mom?” he asked.

Time moved too quickly for Purple’s liking. He did as much as he could in his investigation of the games on Alana’s computer. Some of the games were fun, but ultimately useless to his main goal. Others had healing items he had to buy from a vendor or could collect in chests. He gave these to Orchid, yet the most they did was ease her aching joints.

He found Minecraft through his investigation and it, too, had healing items that didn’t work. Yet, the game was fun, intriguing enough for even Orchid to join in on the fun. He found himself simply just building things with Orchid out of the simple blocks provided in creative mode. They began to build a foundation of a castle, but in time, only Purple was able to build the castle. When that happened, he abandoned construction to refocus his efforts in finding a cure.

Orchid was visibly getting older and weaker every passing day. She walked slower, leaned on her cane more often, and complained of pain in her bones. Vision and hearing were going, and Purple had to draw her glasses and hearing aides to help her.

Nothing was working. He tried experimenting with healing items he found: mixing it into her food, combining it with other mechanics, and even breaking into a game’s code to see if there was anything he could pull. All his efforts did was ease the burdens of aging. He could not cure nor save Orchid from her fate.

Eventually, Orchid became too weak to even leave her bed. Purple was torn between wanting to stay by her side and care for her or leaving to find something he possibly overlooked. He settled for spawning a villager from an egg to be her nurse while he stepped away. But walking away was difficult; he felt every hour he was away was the hour he came back to find her…

He came crawling back with nothing to show for it.

“Is there anything in your game that can stop this?” Purple asked the villager, one night after he returned. “To stop her from dying?”

The villager looked around, unsure if Purple was genuinely engaging with them or speaking out loud to himself. When Purple remained silent, the villager felt like they needed to respond.

 “I don’t know,” they admitted, “I haven’t heard of anything like that.”

“You do realize you don’t age, right?” Purple continued. “You and every video game character are just frozen, as you are. You don’t have to worry about growing old, leaving your kids and loved ones behind...”

“That’s not…” the villager trailed off when he met Purple’s cold stare. “It’s not that simple..”

“Seems pretty simple to me. You, a computer program, live on, while us stick figures, also computer programs, grow old and die. How unfair is that?” Purple muttered. “I ask again. Is there anything in this stupid game that can make her ageless like you?”

The villager shook his head and took a step back. Something was in Purple’s voice that deeply frightened the sniveling NPC. And for a moment, Purple thought of pulling out his sword and stabbing the villager for his unhelpfulness. 

After all they were only ageless, not immortal. Weak.

He walked away from the villager, but those horrid thoughts followed him. 

=

“What’s happening to Orchid?”

Alana logged on to find her desktop disheveled: a half finished castle from Minecraft, a crude house with a crude bed where Orchid lay in it. She must look so bad that even a human could see it on the screen.

Purple stayed by her side, unable to sleep, and stared blankly at the writing above him. He dared not grab the pen he used to write, he didn’t want to get up and leave his mother’s side.

It had been five months. Her time was almost up, and all his efforts to stop it amounted to nothing. 

The cursor moved down and Purple placed himself between it and his mother.

“Don’t!” he said, splaying his hand out. He knew Alana couldn’t hear, but he spoke anyway. “She’s very fragile.”

“Is that Alana?” Orchid croaked.

Her feeble, weak voice broke Purple’s heart to hear. Her glasses were off to the side, but she didn’t reach for them. 

“Yes, it’s her.” 

“Ah, I'm glad,” Orchid said, “I worried… I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.”

“No, no mom, you don’t have to,” Purple said, clinging to her hands. “There- I’m still searching for a cure- I can-“

“Shh,” Orchid placed her hand on his cheek, stilling him. “No, Purple, honey. My time is up. And I don’t want to see you wasting your time searching for a cure that doesn’t exist.”

“But I can’t give up, not now,” Purple shook his head. Her face began to blur and hot tears streaked down his face. “I don’t want you to leave me. Stay here. Please.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” Orchid coughed, “I want to be with you… but I don’t want you to suffer for my sake.”

She wiped his tears with her shaking, wrinkled hands. A pointless endeavor, for Purple could not stop sobbing.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Purple choked, holding her hand.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Purple,” Orchid said. Her hand slackened to her side and eyes closed. “Promise me something, Purple?”

“What?” Purple leaned in. “What do you need me to do?”

There was a beat of silence, just the raspy rise and fall of her chest.

“Promise me that you'll…” Orchid whispered so faintly, every word laborious. “Promise me you’ll… take good care of yourself… that you’ll find someone-” She broke off into coughing.

“Hush, hush. Of course, of course I will.” Purple said and hugged Orchid. “I promise.”

Orchid didn’t return the hug, too weak to do so.

“I love you,” she wheezed.

Then, she let out a shuddering gasp and fell limp within his arms. 

“Mom?” Purple pried away, staring at her gaunt face, eyes closed. He saw that she was becoming translucent, fading away like a spirit.

 “Mom? Please…”

Then there was nothing, just him clinging to the blankets. All that Orchid was became nothing now. Not a trace of her was left, except her scent and his memories.

And with that he wept openly into the empty bed while Alana wordlessly hovered above.

[lbxbx]

Cockpit 11 | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood, major toxic behavior, mentions of abuse

taglist: @wecanpretendit | @whoisbts | @yoonjinsrkive | @my-current-mood-is | @joonzseoulmate | @parkinglot-nights | @missbangtangirl | @m00njinnie | @mantaecrolss | @busanbby-jjk | @bangtanxmegan | @nochelunaxx | @certified-lana-del-rey-lover

A/N: Disclaimer babes i'm not majored in law but i have searched to have a background on the actual thing to try include actual right details and pls let me know if i missed something, ps this may include typos because of my keyboard it's going insane and driving me nuts :)

Previous | Next

“Ew, so you practically baby sit his son the entire flight?” Even when it’s just a video call, you could clearly see the cringe on Taehyung’s voice. You had just arrived to your place a couple hours ago, Namjoon drove you to your place and went home so he could finally be prepared for the hearing that’s actually going to be tomorrow.

You were on your nerves the entire time, your appetite is long gone for almost the past week, your nausea is creeping back on you and you find your hands to be shaking occasionally even when there was little to no effort done that day.

Namjoon was nervous too but he was masking it pretty well to try and make it easier for you even when it should be the opposite. You were genuinely worried about the outcome, what if they go through trial? What if the entire divorce is cancelled? It can’t happen, you find yourself near panicking when this thought crawls into your head so you shake it off immediately before you dive into over thinking, and you don’t really need that right now.

“Yeah, I did.” You roll your eyes. “But it wasn’t that bad.”

“He’s still a kid.” He shrugs, “And how was he? Was he nice?”

“He was okay.” You were folding your laundry, “Are you coming over tomorrow?”

Your friends were kind enough to gather at your place during the hearing tomorrow just to keep your mind off of it, and since all of you enjoy Jungkook’s noodles, he offered that he would make a big pot for you all to have for lunch tomorrow.

And it was sweet of Hoseok that he actually called you earlier and told you that he can’t be there for tomorrow’s lunch, and he was “Work” to do, and he’ll be back right after. He just did it to reassure you and promised you that it’s going to be okay.

“Yeah, I’m coming over alone though.” He finally parks his car and gets into his building, “And your girlfriend?”

“She went over to her parents to celebrate her grandmother’s birthday, I’m on my own.” He unlocks his place and gets inside, “I’m home now, I’ll see you tomorrow chief, okay?”

“Mhm, see you.” You wave your hand and hang up, you throw your phone down and just lay down on your couch, your head faces the ceiling and you start thinking.

What if Namjoon gets the divorce? What happens after that? That’s the question you never asked yourself. You’re convinced that there’s something between you two, but it’s still not labeled nor official.

What happens after the hearing regarding you two?

You roll your eyes at yourself, you just gave yourself an extra thing to over think about when your thoughts are already crammed inside your head.

You want tomorrow night to come faster than ever, you missed sleeping without having to struggle before or even without having nightmares.

Your phone buzzes a message and you sigh before you grab it, thinking it was probably one of your friends  but it’s Namjoon who texted you a picture of his suit hung  up in his closet.

“do you think it’ll look good?”

“tie or no tie?”

“off to get myself a divorce tomorrow hahaha.”

A little breath escapes your nose when you chuckle softly at his message, your fingers hover over the screen to type back.

“I guess no tie.”

“how can you joke about this I’m scared.”

And only seconds after he Facetime’s you a video call and you answer him right away, he’s in his bed smoking a cigarette and having a drink, “I know I don’t have to ask you why because I already know.”

“What if—“

He interrupts. “Hey, no what if’s. I know everything is going to be okay, I’m well prepared and I trust Hobi, don’t you?”

“I do, I just don’t trust her.” You shrug. He takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. “Just so you know, regarding the outcome, and whatever happens, I want you to know that I would still choose you.”

It does reassure you a little, but still you don’t want anything to be in the way between you two, and you know his wife tried to set him up so many times, what if she actually figured something out without you two knowing?

“Y/N.” He laughs. “Stop over thinking, I’m the one going through the divorce not you.”

“Alright. I’m not going to call you nor text you anything tomorrow, I’ll get the news eventually.” Your stomach drops just by the thought of it, he nods. “I’m sure you will, I just called Jay.”

“Poor little thing.” You pout, he takes a drag from his cigarette and puffs away the smoke. “Apparently he likes you.”

“I like him too.” You can’t help but smile, even when you’re a little surprised on the inside, children don’t usually like you. “Is he having fun at his grandparents?”

“Oh yeah, he enjoys being around his cousins, he’s used to staying there.” He turns off his cigarette, “Oh, Hobi is calling, can I call you back later?”

“Mhm, I’ll chat with you later.” You blow him a kiss and he blows one back before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Of course you hardly fall asleep that night, you did see it coming so you weren’t that surprised. You woke up with sore shoulders and a headache that didn’t go away even after having your morning coffee. You decided to give it some time before taking a pill.

As for him, Namjoon had a good night sleep, only his was full of nightmares, and of course he kept twisting and turning before he did manage to fall asleep, his morning was a little similar to yours, only he washed up and got dressed, he bathed in his own cologne and finally got on the road after texting you.

“Good morning :*”

“you were right”

“no tie looks way better”

“have a nice day beautiful <;3”

The clock is ticking and the hearing is a little over an hour away and he can feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest, there was little to no traffic luckily and Namjoon is the type of guy that considers the tiniest thing to be a sign that his day will go well or not, and no traffic could probably be a sign.

He makes it to Hoseok’s office in no time and walks inside, of course Hoseok was already there hours ago finishing the last couple of things and finishing the documents that he may possibly need.

“Good morning Hobi.”

“You’re here early.” Hoseok looks at the watch on his wrist. “Good morning,  how are you feeling?”

Namjoon  plops down on the couch in front of Hoseok’s disk with sigh escaping his lips. “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t nervous. I want things to go well.”

“You’re in safe hands, don’t  worry.” Hoseok walks towards the coffee machine beside his disk. “Coffee?”

“Sure, yeah.” Namjoon takes out his pack of cigarettes. “Can I?”

“Sure.” Hoseok cracks the window open before he makes two cups of coffee and sits in front of Namjoon to have a smoke as well, “Her lawyer called, and they think they have something in their hand but they don’t.”

“What if they found something else we don’t know of?” Namjoon leans his elbows on his thighs. “I’m worried.”

Hoseok take a puff of his smoke before crossing his legs. “Is that what you’re worried about? Or the entire thing generally?”

Namjoon takes out a cigarette and lights it up. “The entire thing, I’m worried over Y/N, what if the outcome doesn’t come in our benefit?”

“Then you still don’t know who your lawyer is.” Hoseok grins, “Don’t worry about Y/N, no matter what the outcome is, she’s going to be okay.”

Namjoon opens his mouth and he’s so close to saying it out loud to Hoseok, but he’s a little hesitant.

Of course he’s not unsure about the way he feels about you, he’s just hesitant on how he’s going to share the fact itself. He wants you to be the one to hear it first, but he feels the need to reassure Hoseok, since he’s really protective over you. “Hobi I…”

It looks like it’s coming out earlier than expected.

“Hmm?” Hoseok’s gut feeling was never wrong, and he kind of knows what’s about to be said.

“I… I know this happened quickly, but the past four months are the happiest I’ve been in my life.” His thoughts are racing through his head when he speaks again. “I’m getting the divorce mainly because I want her instead.”

“Instead?”

“I feel like I wasted the past thirty years of my life being with someone I cannot stand and will not stand no matter how hard I tried.” He shrugs his shoulders, slowly getting relieved at the fact that he’s spilling what’s been kept inside his heart as he never shared it with anyone. “I’ll choose Y/N over anyone anytime.”

Hoseok turns off his cigarette and crosses his arms. “But you just said it, it’s been only three months, aren’t you worried that you’d change your mind? Or probably the way you feel may change.”

He scratches his head and looks into Hoseok’s eyes. “I liked her in the beginning, you know the way you like any girl at the bar, and I was totally unfair to her when I hid everything and wasn’t completely honest with her, and deep inside I thought that I might actually lose her if I told her the truth. And when she found out I was a little relieved even when I was the bad guy.”

Hoseok is a smart man and due to being in his field for so long, he can easily tell if someone was being honest or not, Namjoon does seem genuine to him, the man gave up his marriage just to be with you, and he wouldn’t do that if he never felt anything for you.

“And when I saw her on that plane to Ilsan, I knew it was a sign that I shouldn’t let her go this time, and I can’t risk losing her again.” Namjoon puts off his cigarette and shrugs. “She makes me happy.”

“What’s your next step Joon?” Hoseok asks. “After the divorce.”

A smile creeps on Namjoon’s face when he crosses his arms. “I want her to be my girlfriend, I want everyone to know about her, I want to show her off.”

Hoseok was always your wingman back when you two were young, he would go around and ask guys you liked how they felt about you just so he can tell you later, and as much as he wanted to tell you every single thing about the conversation that just happened, he won’t.

“I actually think it’s very brave of you to decide and go through a relationship again when you’re working your way out of one.” Hoseok shrugs. “No offense, I’m telling you this as your friend.”

“None taken. I know, and you can’t believe how bad this experience was, and I can’t wait to be over with it, I thought I’d be traumatized by women for life, but Y/N  is different on so many levels, and to be honest I did compare them both so many times, but she can never live up to Y/N.” Namjoon scoffs.

“Well.” Hoseok puts his  hands on his own knees for support before getting up and looks at the time on his wrist. “As long as you two are happy, but for now we need to go.”

-

“Jungkook please don’t make it spicy.” Taehyung hovers behind Jungkook who’s standing in front of the stove and opening up the noodles packets.

“No put all the spice in and please pass on the seaweed, it makes me want to puke.” You stand next to Jungkook and watch him work, before he rolls his eyes and turns off the heat. “Okay, you two, either shut up or leave the kitchen.”

“Y/N? Did you order something for delivery?” Seokjin calls your name from the living room and you rush outside to open the door.

You ordered birthday cake for Namjoon, of course you didn’t forget, and since all of you are gathering at your place, you were going to celebrate it.

“Birthday cake?” Seokjin unsurely asks. “What if—“

“Hey, there no what if anymore, no matter what the outcome is, we’re going to celebrate his birthday. If he did get the divorce then there’s two reasons to celebrate, and if he didn’t, then we’ll celebrate it to make him feel better.”

“You’re totally in love with him aren’t you.” Jimin gets up to look at the cake. You roll your eyes and close the box to put the cake in the fridge. “You know sometimes I regret not having girl friends and choosing you guys instead.”

“You don’t mean that.” Jimin carelessly shrugs, “Jungkook hurry up we’re hungry.”

“You need to relax.” Seokjin tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re acting all paranoid, the hearing already started and I know there’s nothing I could say to make this easier for you, but trust me it will be fine.”

You take a long sigh and take a seat in the living room. “I know, but his wife knows what she’s doing and that’s what I’m worried about.”

“Don’t you trust Hobi?” He asks. “He’s like, the number one divorce lawyer in Seoul.”

“Speaking of which.” Yoongi walks out of the bathroom to join you in the living room. “Did Namjoon pay Hoseok?”

“Yes.” Jungkook walks out of the kitchen with the large pot of noodles in his hands, using the sleeves of his top to protect him from the heat. “Hobi hyung told me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” You shrug your shoulders. “Hobi’s doing his job after all.”

“But he’s our friend now.” Seokjin grabs a pair of chopsticks and you immediately object. “I know he is, but you have to put business aside, Hobi is an excellent lawyer and he deserves to be paid even if it was me getting the divorce.”

The entire room goes silent as they start scooping noodles into their plates and devouring the food, you still don’t have the appetite so you barely put one ladleful in your plate and force yourself to finish it.

Your phone buzzes a text and you rush to take it out of your pocket, it’s a text from Hoseok.

“Oh my god.” Your stomach drops. “They’re on their way here.”

-

“File number 3501CR. Mr. Kim versus Mrs Lee.”

“I am here for Mrs. Lee.” Her lawyer speaks, and Hoseok speaks right after. “And I am here for Mr. Kim Namjoon.”

“Mr. Jung, glad to see you.” The judge gets up on his feet to handshake Hoseok, he was pretty popular and loved, people enjoyed his company so much and most lawyers want to be taught and trained under him.

“Glad to see you too sir.” Hoseok shakes his hand back. Namjoon’s pounding heart still hasn’t calmed down but oh well, the judge knows Hoseok so this may serve his benefit.

“Alright, you can go ahead.” The judge orders and both lawyers hand over their files, Namjoon’s anxiety increases when he sees her file thicker than his, do they have something new?

“I’m here to speak for my client, Mister Kim, who filed a divorce 11 months and 23 days ago, he gave his testimony to the previous attorney who handed me over this case.” Hoseok flips through the file. “Sir the testimony is attached in pages 4 through 24.”

“Mhm.” The judge flips through the papers, taking his time to read some of the highlighted points that Hoseok worked on.

Namjoon’s testimony was taken long ago, he included everything about his fucked up marriage, he mentioned that he didn’t get his rights as a husband, and the mental stress she puts him and his son  through, how downhill Jay’s health deteriorates with every arguments, even included medical reports, the last one being signed by you, when you found out that Namjoon was married.

“Your honor, Kim Jaehyuk is their son, also known as Jay in the passport copies.” Hoseok flips through the papers. “3 Years old, with a medical history of seizures, occurring on the attached dates, clipped to that are picture of the hospital trips taken by mister Kim’s dash cam, and below that are his medical reports.”

“What are mister Kim’s conditions to this divorce?” The judge asks as he flips through the papers.

“Full custody of Kim Jaehyuk, and no asset distribution.” Hoseok answers right away even when Namjoon doesn’t mind neither.

If she did get the custody of Jay he will be able to see him every now and then, and for the assets even when she wasn’t worth it, he was willing to give anything away to get rid of her.

“What do you do for a living mister Kim?” The judge asks and Namjoon clears his throat and answers. “I’m an aircraft pilot sir.”

“How long have you been an aircraft pilot?” He asks and Namjoon tilts his head. “Almost 6 years.”

“Sir I have included his portfolio the page after, clipped behind it is a laboratory test that rules off any drug addiction or biological disease that may disable him. And on the next page is a written psychological evaluation written by a specialist, that clearly shows that mr. Kim may be suffering from recurrent panic attacks that occurred only in the past three years, meaning the years he was married to Mrs Lee.”

Namjoon feels himself about to have one of those from the excessive pounding in his chest, he even finds himself hyper ventilating that his own watch notifies him to log in a work out.

“Mhm.” This time the judge takes his time to read the entire paper, giving Namjoon a couple glances here and there.

And even when he’s really on the verge of panicking, he was doing a very good job hiding it,  they could barely tell by his body language and the way he sits. Only when he takes a sip of water or anything, his hands were shaking like crazy.

“Anything else?” The judge asks minutes after. “One last thing sir, the last two pages are bank statements of both mr. Kim and his spouse.”

“Alright, thank you mr. Jung. You did great.” And Hoseok nods before closing the file in front of him, her lawyer finally opens the thick file that’s been concerning Namjoon.

He even turns to look at Hoseok and their eyes meet, Hosok gives him a reassuring nod and sits back to listen to what they have. This is the part Namjoon has been dreading the most.

The judge looks at her lawyer and nods. “Go ahead.”

Namjoon pulls his chair closer to Hoseok’s to see the file that they have a copy of. “Between page 4 and 38 are Mrs. Lee’s testimony sir.”

“Mhm.” The judge also takes his time to read, Namjoon does the same and dives into the papers to scan the entire thing.

The testimony was taken only a couple  weeks ago and it seems like she didn’t include all the details or she probably purposely skipped some, and of course a huge part of it Namjoon could easily deny that it happened. “Mrs. Lee, I take it clearly that you’re accusing Mr. Kim to be abusive and obsessive and alcoholic.”

“Yes your honor.” The lawyer speaks, which makes the judge abruptly flip through the papers and the lawyer immediately speaks. “Sir if you open page 41 you can see that there’s a sealed medical report written by an emergency resident to prove that my client was in fact a victim of abuse.”

The judge rips the sealed envelope that has your signature on it which makes Hoseok stifle a grin, and what’s coming up Namjoon didn’t expect at all.

“Mr. Jung?” The judge passes the paper to Hoseok and he grabs it in his hand,  eyeing it carefully.

It was rigged, and this wasn’t the report you wrote even  when you had your signature on it. The report clearly said that she was presented to the ER with bruises on her upper torso and her back, a cut wound on her forehead and a broken toe.

Namjoon is about to lose his mind, none of this is true and she knows that. Their eyes meet and she immediately looks away and crosses her arms. Zero signs of regret on her face.

“Do you have anything to say?” The judge asks Hoseok, and he nods. “Sure,” He digs into his suit case and takes out a paper to hand it to the judge. “Sir this is data is confidential but she visited the hospital using Mr. Kim’s health insurance, so we were allowed full access to their files, and this is the original report, written by the same doctor on the same hospital, and if you put it side by side for comparison, it’s printed on the same date and time.”

“Agreed.” The judge nods his head and puts both papers aside. “And sir regarding alcoholism, I already presented laboratory tests and Mr. Kim is a social drinker.”

The judge looks at her lawyer and signals him to continue. “On pages 44 and 45 are a witness’ testimony of Mr. Kim seen in a wine cellar with a female aged between 25 and 32, and on the next page is a written report of a video tape that if you allow me to show you.”

“Of course.” The judge agrees and the lawyer turns his iPad towards him to show him the clip of CCTV that  they planned for.

Namjoon can clearly see the video tape and he squints his eyes to see the box of the Legos being put on the floor in the end of the aisle, it was you, and god it shatters his heart that you witnessed something that was meaningless.

“Mr. Jung? I guess you can’t deny a video tape.” The judge grabs his pen and starts writing, Hoseok laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “Watch me do it sir, I’m surprised you still don’t know me.” And the judge laughs too.

Hoseok digs into his suitcase again and takes out a bunch of papers. “Sir this is an order placed by an IP address located in Seoul, which is Mr. Kim’s apartment, the date of this order is in July 28th. And the next paper is Mr. Kim’s flight schedule that week, that clearly shows that he was out of town when this order was placed. And the paper after that is the delivery receipt showing that this package arrived a day prior to the video on the CCTV.”

The judge wasn’t surprised that Hoseok was good at his job, he knew when and how to represent anything that defends his own clients. And the judge was also shocked on how everything was manipulated, showing that Namjoon was set up.

“What are Mrs. Lee’s conditions to this divorce?” The lawyer asks and this is where Hoseok’s heart drops, if they don’t agree on each other’s conditions then the divorce will be transferred to trial and it will take much longer with no guaranteed end.

Namjoon is aware that they have to settle on something, so he grabs a pencil to write down on a small paper to show Hoseok. “I’ve been compromising my entire life and I wouldn’t mind doing it now.”

And Hoseok nods, but still he will try his best to make them agree to Namjoon’s conditions.

“Partial custody slash co parenting, and a 50/50 assets distribution.” The lawyer shrugs his shoulders.

Hoseok speaks without consulting Namjoon. “Partial custody is agreed, assets distribution 80/20.”

Her and her lawyer go through a debate quietly, giving Hoseok the time to glance at Namjoon, he nods his head and whispers. “She’s not getting more than 20.”

“70/30.” The lawyer speaks and Hoseok objects immediately. “No more than 80/20,”

“We need time to negotiate sir.” Her lawyer turns towards the judge to which he agrees immediately. “Mr. Jung please understand that my client is sharing custody, she needs the assets for their son.”

“If she needs the money for the shared custody let my client have it full then.” Hoseok shrugs. “Or zero assets and he’ll give his son the money he needs, it’s either one of those options or 80/20.”

“Mr. Kim, I want you to know that—“

“Sir please, I’m here for Mr. Kim, and if you need anything I’m the one you should talk to, this is what Mr. Kim wants and I was assigned to speak for him.” Hoseok interrupts mainly because he knows Namjoon will give them what they want, but he always made sure that his clients got their desired ends with the least amount of damage.

“75/25 last call.” Her lawyer makes one last offer, Hoseok turns to Namjoon to seek for an answer.

“5 percent is worth like 9 thousand dollars.” Hoseok whispers. “It’s your call.”

“I’ll give her the 25 percent on the spot, but what about the custody?”

“Shared custody, but since it’s her choice she gets to decide what days you can have Jay.” Hoseok puts his pin down. “Let’s settle?”

“Yes.” Namjoon nods, his heart racing more than ever, Hoseok turns to face the lawyer and judge and speaks up. “Agreed.”

“Mr. Kim do you have any debts?” The judge takes out the divorce papers and gets to writing, “No sir.” Namjoon answers right away.

“Mrs. Lee and Mr. Kim, you have agreed on 75/25 assets distribution with shared custody, but the court will decide based on  your profiles and your financial status in order to accept your agreement, is that understood?”

“Yes your honor.” Namjoon and his minutes away to become ex spouse answer at the same time.

“Mr. Kim you have two apartments, on located in Seoul and the other is located in Ilasn am I correct?” The judge asks again and Namjoon agrees.

“Sir if you check the last page on our file, you can see that we hired a real estate agent to evaluate the cost of both apartments.” Her lawyer speaks which makes Namjoon scoff, she’s clearly after his money and he can’t understand why he didn’t realize that before?

Hoseok rushes to open the file to check out the actual price of both properties, opens up his calculator and starts adding and subtracting numbers that are surprisingly big, he grabs out a paper and writes down for Namjoon to read. “25 percent is approximately worth the place in Ilsan and a little over the price of the other car.”

And Namjoon grabs the pen and writes down. “Ok. Let her have the car and the place.”

“Your honor.” Hoseok clears his throat. “I would like to inform you that 25 percent of Mr. Kim’s assets is worth the place in Ilsan and a little under the price of the car she’s driving, Mr. Kim wants to make an offer for Mrs. Lee to have the property and it’s kind of him to offer her the car without paying him what’s left of the car’s price on the market today.”

“What do you say?” The judge looks at her lawyer, who’s already discussing the offer with her.

Namjoon starts thinking months after, Jay will have to fly twice a week to be with his parents, which makes him want to consider a new flight schedule to be able to take him there. He already visits Ilsan repeatedly so it shouldn’t be a problem.

“We agree sir.”

“Alright then, we’re over for today. And in an hour we’ll hopefully have an answer for you.” The judge collects the papers and stands up on his feet. “It was nice to see you again Mr. Jung.” He shakes Hoseok’s hand and leaves the meeting room.

“How are you feeling?” Hoseok rubs Namjoon’s shoulder and he nods. “I can be better.”

“Relax, the hard part is over. It’s going to go just as planned, and we’ll go celebrate back home.” Hoseok winks at Namjoon and grabs out his phone to text you.

“Hey chief”

“We’re on our way home”

“Tell Jungkook to save us some noodles we’re starving :(”

Hoseok knows he sent the message way too early just to tease you and keep you tip toeing, he knows you won’t call or ask, so once he sees the read receipts turn blue he puts his phone back in his pocket. “You wanna go out for a smoke?”

“Yeah.” Namjoon gets up on his feet and leaves the meeting room, the aura was suffocating specially when he senses that he’s being looked at the entire time by her.

Her gaze never left him, deep down in her mind she’s still digging deep, she’s one hundred percent sure that he’s seeing someone else, but she can’t prove anything. And what’s killing her the most is that even when they’re getting a divorce around the same table, she still had a dash of hope that the entire thing will be cancelled.

Both her concrete evidences were rigged and she kind of saw it coming, her father warned her repeatedly that his lawyer was one of the best in the republic.

For a second a thought crosses through her mind and she recalls when she visited the emergency room with her father, she clearly remembers you when you agreed to help them with the rigged report, which when her lawyer found out told them that none of what you said was true, so when he opened the envelope he knew exactly why you lied.

And to be frank, the lawyer her family hired was the cheapest in the market since they’re already broke, so he rigged papers to try and win the case. And speaking of lawyers, another thought crosses her mind, why is Namjoon this close to his lawyer?

Her thoughts are racing back to back, is it possible that you and Namjoon know each other? But oh well, it’s too late for that now.

-

“Did you see their faked medical report?” Hoseok blows out the smoke. “I was so close to laughing.”

“Did you know they were going to manipulate it?” Namjoon leans against the bench and turns off the cigarette he just finished. Hoseok nods right away. “Yeah, I already told Y/N to give me a copy earlier this week, but gosh I wish I told it to the judge before they did.”

“You did great anyway, I’m really impressed, your job suits you like a glove.” Namjoon laughs and Hoseok nods. “I know, but yours was really easy since their lawyer was stupid enough to rig confidential papers.”

“Isn’t that illegal? Shouldn’t he be punished or something?” Namjoon asks out of curiosity. Hoseok blows the last puff of smoke and turns off his cigarette. “Everyone rigs papers in this field, it’s quite fucked up actually. Let’s go to the car and put some cologne on before going back up.”

They rush to their cars and to spray cologne so they could mask away the smell of cigarettes before heading back upstairs to the meeting room.

She’s still there with her lawyer with her arms crossed. Hoseok pulls a chair to sit down and nudges Namjoon. “How did you even marry her?”

Namjoon stifles a laugh and elbows Hoseok before whispering back. “Well, I’m here today because I regret that.”

The judge knocks on the door and enters the meeting room with one single paper in his hand, and considering Hoseok has been in this field for a while know, he knows what this paper means.

“Mr. Kim. Mrs. Lee. The court has made a decision.”

-

You’re in your bathroom vomiting the noodles you forced yourself to eat, it has been over an hour since Hoseok’s message and they’re still not here yet. And Hoseok’s text message with the sad emoji was the trigger you needed for the vomiting parade to start.

“It’s okay.” Yoongi rubs your back and tugs your hair away from your face. “I’ve never seen you this paranoid, you need to give yourself a break.”

“I wish I can, I’m sleep deprived and I haven’t eaten something properly for the past week.”  You stand in front of the bathroom sink and wash your face. “I don’t even know why I’m this nervous, I’m not the one who’s going through the actual divorce.”

“I think it’s because you have something for Joon.” He shrugs, “And you probably haven’t realized that yet.”

“You’re right, I’m still unsure how I feel, maybe that’s why I’m anticipating the entire divorce thing to see how I actually  feel about him.” You open the bathroom door and take a look at the living room, Seokjin and Jungkook are using your game console to play Just dance, and both of them look like actual idiots dancing.

“I wish I could be this careless.” You sigh, Yoongi rubs your shoulders and pulls you into the living room to watch the dumb and dumber dance.

“Are you feeling better?” Taehyung asks. “Do you want me to make you noodles? You’re probably hungry now.”

“No I’m good.” You unscrew your bottle of water and take a sip, He scoots closer to you and wraps his arm around you. “Just so you know, I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“What do you mean?” You pout and he chuckles and pinches your cheek. “I’m used to seeing the strong Y/N who never let anything effect her. You’re a smart successful woman who knows how to handle everything and control her feelings.”

“I’m still human after all. I’m allowed to break character when I’m going through something like this.” You lean your head against his chest. “I hate going through this much stress and sometimes I regret voluntarily going through this.”

“But it’s going to be worth it at the end, I know it.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “You should know it too.”

You hear the door code being clicked and your stomach drops, your face even grows pale and you break into cold sweat, the guys even hear the code being clicked and they pause the game. Your eyes are close to popping out of their socket and your body refuses to function, you can’t get up on your feet since they’re too week so your body lags and decides to stay on the couch.

Yoongi and Jimin get up on their feet and Jungkook and Seokjin who were already dancing are gazing towards the door.

“I’m telling you, I had my blinker on but she still honking behind me, and I ended up flipping her because she was a terrible drier.” Namjoon laughs and high fives Hoseok when they enter the place. “No way, I flipped her off too. But she did get a speeding ticket after, did you see her?” Hoseok laughs back and puts his suit case down on the ottoman near the door.

“Yeah, and she saw us driving past her too.” Namjoon looks towards the living room to see everyone on their feet except you and Taehyung, “What’s up guys?” Hoseok takes off his suit jacket and throws it onto the couch. Complete silence is the answer he gets as everyone is anticipating the answer.

They were all worried equally but hid it from you so well. After all, Namjoon is their friend now and they do care about him and want the best for him.

“You tell us.” Yoongi speaks. “What’s the outcome.”

“O-oh.” Hoseok scratches the back of his head.

You feel your heartbeat an inch away from stopping and you even hold your breath, not only the sad emoji concerns you now, also Hoseok’s reaction was the end of you. You feel each heartbeat taking away a breath from you that you’re slowly starting to get dizzy.

“What?” Jimin’s shoulders sulk in disappointment, Jungkook puts the gaming console down on the coffee table and walks towards Namjoon, “It’s okay hyung, even if didn’t get it today, you will have it eventually.”

“What are you talking about?” Namjoon looks at the youngest, and Jungkook blinks in confusion. “The divorce.”

“But I got the divorce.”  Namjoon’s smile creeps on his face and Hoseok yells right after. “He got it!”

They all cheer excitedly and get up to congratulate Namjoon and Hoseok but you’re still in your spot on the couch, your face fell in your palms when he heard he got it and you’re too overwhelmed to do any reaction. This divorce drained you, but you’re more than happy that it’s over.

Namjoon hugs back Jimin and Jungkook and takes off his suit jacket, his eyes on you when you’re still curled up on the couch with your face in your hands before approaching you and going down on his knees in front of the couch. “Don’t I get a congratulations hug or what?”

You held back the tears of relief and take your hands off of your face and lean in to hug him, burying your face in his neck and wrapping your arms tightly around him. “It’s okay, everything is okay now.” He whispers for only you two to hear and kisses you on the cheek. “I’m so sorry for making you go through this, but believe me I wouldn’t have done it without you.”

“How did it go?” You pull back from the hug, he leans his forehead against yours. “It went great, and now I can finally take you out on proper dates and show you off.”

“Aren’t you going to kiss her or what?” Jungkook plops down beside you on the couch and you roll your eyes. “With you in the room? I’m not so sure.”

“I heard you two fucking before do you think kissing her would matter?” The younger crosses his arms and Jimin plops next to him. “You heard them too? I thought it was only me.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes when Jimin starts imitating you. “Oooh Namjoon, please, don’t stop. Oooh Namjoon you’re so big. But are you though?” He even looks down at Namjoon’s pants, you grab the pillow on the couch next to you and hit Jimin with it repeatedly. “I’m so sorry, I know they’re weird.”

“But you do sound like that though.” Namjoon laughs which makes you hit him with the pillow too.

“Jungkook, go make us something to eat.” Hoseok finally sits down, you nod your head. “Yeah please, I’m hungry too.”

“You didn’t eat yet?” Namjoon tugs your hair off of your face and Jimin answers him. “She did but she ended up vomiting it.”

Namjoon’s heat melts and he pulls you in for a hug again and smothers you with little kisses all over your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

You hug him back and get up on your feet. “Let’s go get you changed.” You pull him into your bedroom and close the door. “Tell me everything.”

“You know, I’ve never been this happy on a birthday before.” He unbuttons his shirt and takes a seat onto your bed. “Come here.”

You walk towards him and you’re about to sit beside him but he pulls you to sit onto his legs. “Hey, we’ll do anything you want later, but please tell me what happened first.”

He fumbles with the collar of your sweatshirt and gazes down onto your lips before looking onto your eyes. “I gave her the house in Ilsan and her car, and we’re sharing custody of Jay, the judge decided that he’ll stay in Seoul for two weeks and then go to Ilsan for the other two weeks and be with his mother.”

“She doesn’t deserve shit, she had no idea what she had in her hand and she completely lost you.” You scratch the back of his head, he grins and shrugs one shoulder. “Well now I got you.”

You nod your head slowly. “Hmm, you practically didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet so I’m guessing you still didn’t get me.”

“Yet?” He laughs and nuzzles his nose against yours before teasing you. “Well, I’m starting to wonder what being single feels like.”

“Oh yeah?” You whisper and hover your lips over his before pulling back. “I don’t think you’ll like it that much.”

“And why is that?” He runs his hands on your thighs, you put your hands over his and get back up on your feet. “Because you won’t get to spend your nights with someone as sexy and as beautiful as I am.”

“Fuck, you’re absolutely right.” He stands up and pulls you in for one single kiss on your lips. “But hey, in my defense, I want it to be special so you’re going to have to be patient.”

“Maybe someone else will beat you to it.” You pull back and grab him out something to wear. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

-

His and his ex wife’s family are going crazy in Ilsan, his father fired hers and took everything away from him in a blink of an eye, and all the projects he was working on and that were funded by the Kim’s are on hold and are being handled legally by someone professional.

Mr. Kim was kind enough to not ask for the money they stole back, and he was kind enough to finish her sibling education since some of them considered him like a father or like an uncle.

Her father was going hysterical and he started losing his mind, the projects and the big plans he was working on evaporated in the air in seconds, and of course they’re forcing their daughter to sell the house and the car that she got from the divorce just to be able to fund and cover one of the smallest projects he’s been working on.

But still, it would cover it for less than a year, after that there’s nothing he can do about it.

Namjoon’s family made plans to go visit their son the next day and congratulate him since he’s the one who exposed the other family even when it wasn’t on purpose. And they were going to offer their help on transporting Jay to Seoul and back so he wouldn’t have to take a day off from his job.

Meanwhile you were getting ready to go stay at Namjoon’s for the night, since he insisted and you were never there before, so you agreed and got ready before going there.

The moment you get inside the house, you thought you were going to feel bittersweet about it and about the fact that you were one of the reasons of this divorce. This house once had a housewife and she’s no longer here.

But it’s the exact opposite. Victory tastes so sweet and you don’t feel half bad for her, she’s the villain in his story and she doesn’t even deserve the end she got, she deserves worse.

You see Jay’s scattered toys here and there and something inside you feels greedy, you feel the need to let her know that you’re going to replace her, and that her loss no longer matters.

You feel the need to show her that he’s way happier with someone else, you feel the need to show her that you’re in her house, on her bed.

You throw your top off when you actually feel your body heat up, it’s either you getting horny or your body acting up on the greediness you feel.

“Do you want me to show you around?” Namjoon’s eyes hover down to your tits that still have his love bites on it from two nights ago. “Fuck you’re making it hard for me to focus.”

“Sure, show me around.” You put your top on the couch beside you and walk further inside the house, he gives you a little house tour, showing you the two furnished room that they used to sleep separately in, and both of them are familiar.

One you saw behind him as you video called him for hours. And the other one was the one you saw in your nightmares, similar to every exact detail which makes the hair on your body erect. It was so weird and scary somehow.

“Are you okay?” He stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in closer. “Yeah, I’m alright, I love your place.”

“You do?” He whispers, burying his face into your neck to inhale your scent, secretly wishing for you to leave your own scent in his place to replace the old one. Any place that has your scent is like a home to him.

“Mhm.” You giggle when he reaches his hand inside your bra and squeeze onto one of your tits. “Your hands are cold.”

“They are?” He nibbles onto your ear. “Aren’t you tired? Do you want me to give you a massage?”

“Stop, last time your massage ended with a cream pie Joonie, that was cute and shit but we need to be a little more careful.” You laugh and he mirrors your laugh and whispers. “I’ll cum in your mouth this time, or on that beautiful face, what do you say?”

Your panties soak in milliseconds at his words, you let out a hitched breath and clear your throat, you need to say something but he left you speechless. And who are you to actually say no?

“Debatable.” You manage to say and he chuckles before pulling back. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Wine, or whiskey, your call.” You shrug one shoulder, he presses a kiss onto your shoulder. “How about a couple shots of tequila?”

“You’re totally trying to get me into bed.” You walk out of the bedroom to the kitchen and he follows you. “Me? Of course not.” He feigns innocence and opens the cupboard to grab out the drink and two shot glasses to pour out a couple of shots.

“Here’s to being single again.” You tease him and he rolls his eyes before clinking his shot glass with yours and drinking it in one go and so do you.

“You know I don’t think it could use another shot.” You throw down your shot glass and without thinking, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, he immediately kisses back and hugs you into his arms tightly, your tongue already invading his mouth, he carries you up and you wrap your legs around his torso, he walks towards the master bedroom and it seems like he’s on the same page as you are.

He puts you down on her bed and it feels exactly like your nightmare only with different details, he leans towards you and presses his lips against yours, his hand already crawling inside your jeans and panties to rub your pulsating clit in circular motion.

You hum against his lips and move your hand down to palm his cock through his pants, it’s already rock hard which makes you a little less embarrassed that you’re already wet yourself.

“Fuck.” You gasp and your head falls back when he slides in two fingers inside you, he moves down to your neck and chest to print several wet kisses and sucking on other spots to print even more purple hickeys onto your skin.

His fingers slam against your spot as he thrusting them up and down, the tightness in your stomach increases and he feels your cunt clenching around his fingers and he whispers. “You’re gonna cum aren’t you?”

“Mmm, fuck. Yes.” Your hand sits on his shoulder, his lips land against yours again and he shoves in another finger which stops you from kissing back right away. “I’m gonna cum.” You speak with your lips still on his mouth, he curls his fingers against your spot and right when you’re about to cum.

You feel a set of eyes on you.

Your heart drops and suddenly you feel yourself about to lose your consciousness, a silhouette standing right near the bedroom door behind him. Your fight or flight works and you close your legs onto his hands and hold his wrist tightly. “Namjoon stop.”

“Are you okay?” He looks into your eyes and sees that you’re staring somewhere near the bedroom door, he snaps his head to look behind him.

And holy fuck it’s her.

Standing right there near the bedroom door and it’s the same facial expressions you saw in your nightmare.

Even when they’re divorced, she looks lonely and hurt and empty. And of course, betrayed.

 This time not a single inch of regret do you feel, this time it tastes sweet, it tastes like pure victory.

And what you wanted happened right away, you wanted her to see that she’s replaced, and that Namjoon couldn’t care less about her loss, and most importantly..

You wanted her to see you on her own bed, in Namjoon’s arms.

Namjoon’s hand slides out of your pants and he helps you get up onto your feet, totally not ashamed himself, he grabs your hand and walks you out of her bedroom and sit in his.

He takes one last glance at his ex wife and barely hides the disgust he feels towards her. “Take all your stuff. And maybe you should consider knocking next time since you no longer live here.”

You’re all ears anticipating what she would answer but she doesn’t, he walks into his bedroom and slams the door shut on purpose before walking towards you and yanking his shirt off. “Now where were we?”

You knew the man was freaky, but was he freaky enough to have sex with you with his wife in the room next door? He actually is.

And it’s even more arousing to you, you grab him into your arms and press your lips against his, raising your knee up slowly and gently to rub it against his clothed boner, his hand slides into your panties again and this time he slams his three fingers inside you without a warning which makes you hold him tighter into your hands and moan off of the top of your lungs. “Holy fuck.”

The two of you were enjoying the actual thing, and enjoying the fact that she’s in the room next to you.

“Cum for me.” He bites onto your earlobe and curls his fingers against your spot, slamming against it repeatedly, you’re usually talkative in bed but the stimulation got your voice a couple octaves higher.

“Don’t stop.” You breathlessly moan and throw your head back, he licks a long valley from your neck to your chest and proceeds to use his other hand to grab one of your tits out of your bra.

And of course she can hear everything, her attention was drawn away when she saw you topless, and she couldn’t help but to notice the purple kisses onto your breasts. Meaning that you and Namjoon had already done this before and this is not his first night with you.

But she still didn’t have the chance to look you in the face and recall your features.

She walks towards the bed and smells the bed sheets, it’s the exact same smell she picked up from the hospital, and the exact same smell that was on Namjoon’s clothes that night.

She’s a little slow to process the fact that it could be you, but she just needs to take one look to recognize you.

“Oh my god. Joon please-“

She hears through the thin walls, but she decides on ignoring and opening the closet to start packing her stuff. Right when she hears her phone ringing from the living room, she walks out the bedroom and Namjoon does too.

He’s on his way to grab you a bottle of water when their eyes met, she takes one glance inside the bedroom to see you laid down on the bed.

And it takes her a little over two seconds to finally recognize that it’s you.

“I knew you were seeing someone.” She looks at Namjoon in the eyes. “She’s the woman you abandoned your son for, isn’t she?”

“This doesn’t concern you.” He closes the door to his bedroom, but you immediately get up and press your ear against the door.

“She was the doctor who helped Jay, and she was the one that got you the medical report.” She nodded. “Now it all makes sense.”

You knew she knew all along, women know and feel everything going around them.

“I’m not going to argue because this doesn’t concern you.” Namjoon repeats, you open his closet and grab out one of his tops before opening the door.

You look her in the eye with your chest heaving dramatically.

This was something you were anticipating long time ago, you wanted her to know everything. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

[neonghostlights]

hi, can you do an eddie x reader where they have a daughter, but they have been separated for a while. Eddie always calls to check on your daughter and stuff like that, but then you ask him to try to come and spend time with your daughter and he says yes. Then a few days pass after he is back in Hawkins to spend time with her, but when the day comes to leave and return home, the little baby starts crying wanting her father back and Eddie hasn't even entered the car yet. car, but come back to console his little girl(s) cuz reader is crying too😭

Sorry this took me so long! I changed it a bit but I hope you still like it! Thank you @hellfire--cult for helping me name the baby 🤰

Warning: angst with a happy ending, mention of divorce/separation, Eddie and R are parents, mention of a child being sick/injured

Complete

You never saw this happening for you and Eddie.

After nearly 5 years of marriage, one single fight caused the explosion that detonated your entire life.

You were both tired, and parenting was hard.

He came home late one night, later than expected. He worked hard, so so hard but you were tired of him never being home anymore.

You begged him to try to be home at a decent time for dinner and to help you put your daughter, Alma to bed. It was something the hadn’t been home to do in months but he called you and told you that he had a late night issue with the record company he worked for and wouldn’t be home.

You felt like you were roommates now instead of a married couple. He was hardly ever home, leaving work early in the morning and not coming home until late at night.

He wasn’t a bad dad. The times he was home, maybe once every few days he spent doting on Alma while you caught up with everything else in your hectic life.

It was like you barely saw him anymore.

What really threw you over the edge was when he let it slip he had been to the doctor for his headaches last month. You didn’t even know he was having headaches or that he was seeing a doctor for them.

When he finally walked through the front door you exploded.

Words were said. Some of it you meant and some you didn’t.

Eddie packed a bag and left.

It hurt like hell but you kept reminding yourself of all the bickering and arguing you had been doing lately. It felt like the two of you had finally hit a wall in your marriage.

You slept alone that night, stretched out across your king sized bed.

Eddie called you the next day, letting you know he was safe at Wayne’s. You both agreed he should stay there in the time being until you decided how to proceed with separation.

You both danced around the word divorce, neither of you wanting to be the one to say it.

The first day that Eddie was gone was fine. Your one year old daughter, Alma, was extra fussy, her tears matching the same that stained your face.

The second day was even harder. Eddie called again to talk to her on the phone. Only hearing the sound of his voice on the phone hurt, reminding you of how he walked out the other day. You could tell Eddie wanted to stay on the phone with you but you handed the phone over to your baby who giggled excitedly when she heard her dad’s voice.

You had a hard time falling asleep that night, having a hard time sleeping alone. You woke up a few times, the random creaks of your house making you think that Eddie was home.

The third day was rough. Alma was crying off and on ever since she opened her eyes in the morning, something that you had thought she had grown out of since she was well past her newborn stage.

You didn’t sleep that night. You kept your face in his pillow while you cried, the smell of him only making your heart ache worse.

Day four was the worst. Alma screamed all day, not even closing her eyes for a nap. She wouldn’t eat and threw her food on the floor when you tried to feed her.

It was a long, long day and no matter what you did she wouldn’t stop.

You were losing your patience, doing your best to make her happy but every time you tried she just screamed louder.

The dreadful feeling settled in your stomach that maybe something was seriously wrong. Had your baby been begging you to help her and you just couldn’t understand?

You rushed to the phone nearly ripping it off the hook in your panic.

-

He made it to the house in record time. He made the usual 25 minute drive from Wayne’s in nearly 10.

He flew through the front door, not even thinking about the fact that he didn’t live there any more and that you may have wanted him to knock.

He just knew that the sound of your voice on the phone was desperate and broken. The sounds of his baby screaming on the other end sent him into a major panic. It had been days since he had seen both of you and he had been living in hell.

He hadn’t been able to sleep but instead would stay up at night looking at the pictures Wayne had of the two of you, wondering where everything went wrong. There were so many times he wanted to call you or go home but he thought that maybe it would make things worst so he decided to give you space.

But now you and Alma needed him.

Alma spotted him first, looking over your shoulder where you were holding her. You were swaying your body back and forth to try to soothe her but it wasn’t working, Alma was screaming right in your ear.

Alma whimpered a second, her breathing still rapid as she realized who Eddie was.

But she stopped screaming and held her arms out to him.

You looked confused, moving Annie so you could look at her face to try to figure out why she suddenly stopped her crying.

“Dada!” Alma cheered, reaching her arms out to Eddie. Her poor voice was hoarse from her crying.

You spun around, facing Eddie for the first time in days. You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of him and it made Eddie feel good that you wanted to see him.

“Eddie,” you sighed, handing over Alma to Eddie’s waiting arms since she was practically climbing away from you to get to him.

“Dada’s here,” Eddie cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of Alma’s head as she played with his hair.

“She was screaming. I thought something was wrong…” You said as you watched Alma melt into your husband’s arms. “I guess she just missed you. We both missed you.” You admitted.

“I missed you too, both of you. More than you could imagine,” Eddie told you. “I know I messed up. I know I wasn’t around a lot but I swear I’ll do better. I talked to my job yesterday and told them I can’t stay late or work extra anymore. I don’t want to lose you.”

Eddie crossed the room towards you, Alma’s now sleeping body between you in his arms.

“Please come home,” you sniffled, starting to cry.

Eddie reached a hand out to caress your arm while still managing to support Alma.

You and Eddie laid Alma down in her crib together. Eddie held you for a moment as you both stared down at the baby that was a perfect mix of the both of you.

You and Eddie were going to argue, but things were going to get better. It felt like your family was complete again.

[apocalypse-shuffle]

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, crying?

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

Ma. God, no one called you that anymore. The way your eyes begin to prickle is a clear indication.

With you Dick wasn’t the type. Once he’d worked himself up to it he’d called you mom; slightly different from the few ways he referred to his bio mother, but something shared between the two of you all the same.

And Tim? Well he wasn’t your child plain and simple. Tim still had his parents for one, and for two he was intrinsically Bruce’s. By the time he’d figured his way into the Batcave you’d been gone, most of your shit moved out of the manor, and desperately waving divorce papers Bruce refused to acknowledge in the air. You didn’t have anything to do with his indoctrination outside of exactly one instance of him finding you to ask if you’d reconsider the separation. Some Batman needed a Robin and Bruce Wayne needed his wife type shit.

Either way Tim didn’t call you any rendition of mom because you weren’t his. The most you got was him addressing you by your maiden name and then eventually your first and you were content with that.

Then if he didn’t call you mom, the girls sure as hell didn’t either. Outside of Barbara the others never even became regular conversation partners. Cass was a rare sighting in your life and Stephanie and you’s relationship would never progress past the casual advocacy you tried giving her because she was another dead Robin to add to what’s now technically a list.

At the end of the day, out of all the people who considered you a mother, only Jason added that ‘a’ and you wanted to grip that name tight and hold it to you. Break your ribs open and force it into your chest cavity. The need to fulfill that ache cuts deep and you take a step forward.

Jason startles though, undoing all his own forward progress, and you falter. That’s right. Jason didn’t like for people to touch him. Definitely didn’t like hugs either. Not surprise ones at least. Before his death you’d gotten close enough he didn’t mind when you swooped in, but now?

“Can I-? Can I hug you?” You press trembling lips together for another horrible swallow. “Please…?”

Jason jerks, two hastily aborted movements at once, before his obstructed voice meets your ears.

“Fine.”

You practically fall on him before pulling him into you. Unfortunately he’s just as stiff as his voice and you have to take a second to figure out how to slot against him.

Jason fits in your arms differently than he used to - broader and taller by a mile - but after a few beats he relaxes into them just the same. The subtle addition of weight makes a sob bubble up your throat.

You rap your knuckles on the side of the helmet.

“Take this shit off.”

He hesitates and a sharp pang manages to worm its way into the already shitty cocktail of emotions you’re feeling. It hits your spine like lightning, forces you up and has you an arms length away in half an inhale.

Maybe before now you’d been going through too much all at once for the trepidation to hit, but it was hitting now. You’d never seen Hood without- well without the Hood. Only Jumbie raised from the dead the way Jason did, and while you’d take your son anyway you could get him you wouldn’t accept some Thing parading around in his skin.

Reading your burst of movement for what it is, Jason backtracks, rising arms dropping to his sides. “Maybe I shouldn’t…”

“Jason Peter-” you inhale deeply, catching yourself, and hold a hand up to stop him. You both ignore the obvious way it trembles. “-only… if…if you want to. I’m not trying to force anything.”

He’s slow to nod, weight shifting from his left to his right leg and back again before he says something too low for you to hear. You’re about to ask him to repeat when he speaks up, this time aiming his voice somewhere around your shoulder while bowing his head.

“No, I- Alright. Just hold on.”

Haunches suitably raised and heart in your throat you pay close attention as the helmet comes up, Jason having released some catch in the back.

It goes over, the helmet clatters to the ground, and the man who stares back at you is…hard to place.

The low fluorescent lighting of the narrow room combined with the concrete walls casts soft enough shadows over his face that while his features are warped they’re not discernible. Which means you can’t completely rule out the uncanniness wafting off of him as just your brain (along with your entire perception of the universe) splinting in half.

It makes your face heat up. He looks familiar, but you can’t say you wouldn’t have passed him straight if you’d seen him on the street. He’s too big for one, even for how you’d all imagined he’d look grown up, standing more than a foot taller than the last day you saw him. Taller than malnourishment would’ve ever let him be.

The sob you let out makes you both flinch.

One hand snaps to your mouth, the other waving him off.

“I’m sorry I- I don’t-. This is just-”

Even with the way he’s leaning away from you he shakes his head. “I get it, it's fine.”

His voice is faint, cut up and hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a while, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve heard in ages.

“Oh,” you laugh. The wet kind that makes your throat sticky. You can only stare at him, blurry form and all, words lost to you.

Eventually, after watching your fervent effort to wipe away tears that are in no way inclined to give you a break, arms crossed Jason takes a half step forward with a shrug.

“We can…try again?”

The next little laugh you let out you practically choke on but you nod all the same.

When Jason’s the first to move your heart starts speeding away like an overexcited middle school drumline. You roll with it though, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes so they’re dry enough for you to actually see him clearly for a few seconds.

When he’s directly in front of you your hands come up slowly, giving him plenty of opportunity to move away. Or maybe to vanish.

When he does neither, only giving you a guarded look, you allow yourself to touch.

Problem is, the domino mask he’s wearing very quickly gets in your way and on your nerves when you move to frame his face. Quickly feels like if it’s not gone, if you can’t see his eyes, you’ll throw up.

To stop yourself from taking the risk and ripping it off you have to take a deep breath. Have to force down the thick build up of saliva gathering in your mouth so it pushes back the bile climbing up your throat.

“I’d like to see my son, Jason. All of you.”

To emphasize your point you tap the tip of your nail against the mask. There’s no intention on your part to cross his boundary but Jason’s hands snap up to hold onto your wrists all the same.

You look into the white lenses of his domino, fingers buzzing along the corner of the mask closest to them. His mouth twists into a frown.

“Please?”

You beg with the same ferocity a grieving mother once used when begging for her child back.

“You’re asking for a lot.”

He lets go and he takes a couple steps back and you don’t cry.

No, instead you swing your hands behind you. Clasping them together in a poor attempt to stop the buzzing sensation that travels from the tips of your fingers to take over your entire hand.

“Mmm,” you incline your head. “Well. I did help a boy get over first date jitters with a made up song once. Let that same boy talk me through an entire dissertations’ worth of his analysis of Their Eyes Were Watching God - as choppy as it was - because TWMS wouldn’t allow him to present it in class. Let him skip going to that same school and cry to me for hours after the death of Gloria Stanson. Remember a knife hidden in the corner on the highest shelf in his closet, and I remember not revealing any of that when I gave his eulogy because he once asked me to keep the important things between the two of us. So you don’t have to show me, but I think I make a pretty good qualifier when it comes to keeping this safe.”

You point straight to where his heart is tucked safely behind layers of gray armor before shrugging.

From the way his brows furrow over the domino you know he’s at least thinking about it so you step away to pick up your disregarded mask and stuff it in your waistband.

One blink. Six.

“You remember Rena?”

In front of him again, you rock back on your heels. “Mhm. And the ‘how to tie a tie’ lessons me and Bruce walked you through even though you didn’t wear a suit to that date. Remember that too.”

Jason’s smile is crooked on his face but it’s nonetheless present as he makes a noise of agreement.

“I’d just wanted to spend time with you two, I was never planning on wearing a suit to go to the skating rink.”

“We figured.”

You’re rolling onto the balls of your feet when that small smile drops and he shakes his head.

“I’m not that same boy anymore.”

You take in the way he could raise his hand and so easily touch the ceiling without having to jump. You clear the phlegm from your throat.

“I can tell.”

Jason grunts and makes a general gesture indicating something somewhere behind you.

“And I got no interest in trying to live up to whatever fucked up embalment Bruce’s got going on with my burnt suit in that case.”

That suit. Bruce’s memorial. His warning. Your breath hitches as you think of the smell of crisped blood and methanol. If Jason didn’t want to talk about it you sure as shit weren’t going to.

“I will one hundred percent take that into account.” You keep it simple, rocking on your heels again. He wasn’t asking for anything unreasonable so there wasn’t really any debate to be had. “You wanna be treated as you are? I can do that.”

Moments pass once you’ve said your peace where Jason does nothing but stare at you. The only indication he’s at all alive being his shoulders still moving - and you are watching. Eyeing that tell tale up and down like your own life will end at its falter. The pattern is slow enough to come off as pacivity but the time between each rise and fall is too measured to be uncontrolled. Exactly three point eleven seconds one way and three point eleven seconds the other. Every time.

Then he sighs, curses, and the little veil of dissolvent for the adhesive that adheres the mask to his face is in his hand. A different vial and color than when he was Robin; you don’t know why you thought it’d be the same. Or why it makes your heart clench that it’s not.

Between one thrum of the fluorescent lights and the next Jason is peeling away the domino, and you would be lying if you claimed to know where it disappeared to after that. Too caught up on what he’d been hiding to track it.

Blue. Nothing more and nothing less. Just blessedly familiar, vibrant blue. Not the dull gray they’d become by the time you were given the chance to put a gruesome sight of a child six feet under.

The “Oh wow,” tumbles from you without permission and then there’s zero hope for the waterworks you’d been holding back. The levee fails and you’re bawling before you know it. Barely holding back snot and who knows what else since you already feel like screaming.

At that point there’s no carefully thought out sentence for you to spew, no more hesitancy, no more measured breathing, and linear thought. Just the crushing need to have him close to you again.

You’re rushing forward before you know.

Wrapping your arms around Jason the next go around is both the best and the worst thing. You accommodate his new size faster, already writing over the ways he used to fit against you with the ways he does so now, but he’s still so stiff and he’s not reciprocating the hug either.

Maybe you should let go. You crossed the boundary too fast. Were too reckless. You literally have training on this and now you’re crowding him.

Okay, you’re pulling away. It’s a herculean effort but you’re forcing your arms from around his middle. You’ve got to, you don’t want to scare him off. Not when you just got him back.

There’s a soft “Not yet,” mumbled into your shoulder and then arms finally come around yours and you don’t hesitate to snap your own back into place.

He’s hugging you back.

You cry a little harder and bring one of your arms up to drape across his shoulders, pulling him closer. When you start rocking and Jason copies your momentum you press a kiss onto his temple.

“Hi,” you stutter out. Another sob. “Hi baby.”

Since he’s finally letting his arms wrap around you you don’t hesitate to run dark fingers through the truly unruly mass of black curls on his head. His hairs’ damp - most likely from sweat - but cool. Probably being tempered by the cold air blowing into the room.

It’s when you press a kiss to his forehead that you feel something else wet and your breath stutters.

“It’s okay. I got you, everything’s okay,” you whisper.

“God Ma-” his voice cracks and then you can hear the sobs he’s trying to muffle into your suit. “No it’s not.”

“I know,” you sob. “I’m sorry- so so fucking sorry.”

You sniffle and pull away to see him better. Jason’s face is flushed, his eyes wet, and cheeks streaked with tears shed. You hold your hands up to frame his face for a second time and run your thumbs through the tear tracks. His chest heaves as his body tries to regulate his breathing.

Jason clears his throat, gaze boring into yours. “Hi,” he says.

You smile, finally beginning to map out his face. First you move to frame his cheeks, too feel the warmth in them. To see if they still feel familiar. They don’t; you force yourself to accept that fact without letting it show in your expression, letting out a measured exhale before continuing. You find his jaw is more defined now too, cheeks devoid of the baby fat of five years prior.

From then on brushing your thumbs along his brows, over the bridge of his nose, traveling over his ears and skirting around his hairline - it all fills your mind with incoherent cheers.

Your thumbs hover over Jason’s eyes and you hum when he closes them for you.

The skin underneath your shaved off pads is soft. The thin layer of protection allows you to feel how his eyeballs shift, to see the way his veins show stark under light skin, to clock the life thrumming through him.

It makes your heart feel so goddamn light. You can’t stop smiling at the sight of him. Eyes still wet but clear.

“I feel like such a horrible mother,” you hiccup, hands slide down so you can once again cup his face. “I barely recognize you.”

Jason’s breathing shakes nearly in tandem with yours and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, head turning away.

“Don’t.” He takes a second to look up. Look right through you. Lashes wet and glassy eyes open, voice grating over his next words. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. I don’t blame any of you for that, but especially not you.”

What you want to do is argue. You should’ve never let him put on that suit in the first place, one fucked up son should’ve been the end of it. You should’ve dropped the case you were working the second you’d heard he’d run away and you should’ve found him. Instead you keep your thoughts personal, pinning them to your brain as if it’s a cushion so that you’ll never forget, and pull your son closer. An action which he allows, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whisper into his hair. The way he instantly shakes his head makes the cool strands tickle your jawline.

“You can’t mean that.”

“If I didn’t mean it I wouldn’t have said it, Jay.”

Jason tenses before responding, words spewing without warning.

“Yeah except I’ve killed people, and I don’t regret it, and Bruce hates that - and you probably do too - but his way isn’t good enough. The people in this city deserve better so I’m doing what’s necessary-”

And that has you bristling. He must notice too because he stops short and edges away, face steeping. Caught somewhere between wanting to leave and wanting to fully kick start an argument.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! I had to split this bitch in two cause it was 5,000+ words and I’m not in the business of under-indulging myself.

Listen, I’ve looked into it. Every mother/mother figure Jason’s ever had he’s referred to as “Mom”, but me personally, I didn’t grow up addressing my own mother that way so I wanted to play around with “Ma” (differentiate a little). What's funny though, is that I’ve read Dick referring to his mother as both “Ma” and “Mom” so that’s fun.

• TWMS = Thomas Wayne Middle School

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

[astreids]

in this life and all the others !!!

alternatively — ☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ john price prepared his daughter for everything and that included him being gone. what he didn't prepare himself for was her being gone.

simon riley x fem!price!reader — 𖦹₊˚⊹☁️

warnings — ⋆｡°✩ language. kinda ooc!simon but idgaf. reader may have some specific traits, sorry for self projection, it WILL happen again. kidnapping, allusion to death, blood, wounds, the usual yeeyay with their line of work. john is going through it. reader and ghost are already together.

author's note — ⋆｡°✩ hiii :) my first time ever writing for this fandom and i'm reallllly excited!! i hope you like this <3 fair warning, the reader's sense of style, hair length description, possible field of work may be specified so if that's not to your preference, i'm really sorry for it :( if you would like me to do something like this with some specific points and all, you can just ask me!! i'm sure i'll be able to work with that!! thank you so much for reading, i already love each and every one of you <3

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

it felt wrong to admit it now but when your mother first dropped you at your father's house, he didn't — well, he didn't exactly want you.

it wasn't as if he didn't love you, he did — you were his daughter. but his life had enough chaos to last him a lifetime and he was just fine with staying in touch with you through screens and only seeing you alternately on christmas, that too if the circumstances allowed him too

sure, he wouldn't be there at your parent teacher conferences or have you show him your report cards. he wouldn't get to see you perform extraordinarily in your extracurriculars or have you run towards him with whatever prize or trophy you'd get. he wouldn't always be there at your birthdays and sometimes, he might even forget to mail you a present. he might not get to see you grow up and he might only be just your father and never your dad.

he was fine with that.

so, what would it matter if his heart broke a little when his ex-wife, your mother, called him the night after they had signed the divorce papers and asked him to talk to you because you wouldn't stop asking for your dad? why would he be second guessing himself after hearing your small voice breaking in between as you asked him to come back? why did he get the sudden urge to drive to your mum's house and pick you up and apologize and let you choose the colour of the walls of your room in his house — your home?

but sure, he was fine.

he assured you that he was just a call away, told you to be good for your mom, eat your veggies, be nice and kind and then bid you goodbye. he tried hard not to pay attention to your cries as your mum took the phone from you and apologized to him, explaining that you just missed him.

'she just misses you, john,' and he was ready to break down then and there. you needed him, your dad, and he was refusing to be there. refusing to let that shadow of his work even fall on your shadow for a second. refusing to let you be a soft spot for him because that was the most dangerous thing a person in his line of work could ever have.

'she'll get over it soon, forget her old man and all,' he tried to laugh it off but his voice broke and before your mum could say anything, he hung up.

the next time he saw you, you were at his door, standing with your luggage behind you and your mother. he noticed that her own luggage was still in the cab and it didn't take long for him to figure out what was coming. he had tried to explain himself, explain why exactly he wasn't cut out for this and that he was very happy with seeing you every other weekend. all while you stood near the staircase and stayed quiet.

your mum left and left you behind with a father who didn't even remember his daughter's favourite colour.

he remembered the look on your face and the way you tried to make yourself as small as possible, taking the least amount of space you could. you had just turned ten, your birthday being one of many that john would eventually come to miss and he looked at you like you were still that same one year old baby who pulled herself up and walked to her dad.

he grabbed your luggage and one of your hands and walked you up the stairs and into one of the rooms down the hall. it was mostly empty, a twin size bed and a dresser drawer spread out with a wardrobe in the corner but he figured you'd be fine.

if he saw you pause at the walls being your maybe-favourite colour, he didn't say anything.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

"what do you mean?"

"john — "

"stop, just — stop," john took a deep breath, exhaling shakily as he broke eye contact with laswell and looked away. his hands ever so slightly shaking came up to fix his signature hat as he pointedly ignored ghost's gaze piercing him from where he was listening to everything at the back of his office. "what do you mean?"

"we're trying to locate — "

"that's my fucking daughter and you swore that this wouldn't ever catch up to her!" john snapped, his voice firm and sharp as he desperately tried to hide the tremor in his words. "you — you guaranteed that my line of work would never catch up to her and that she'd be safe and she'd be fine and now she is — "

he cut himself off with as soon as his voice cracked, looking away as he shook his head, shaking the concerned and empathetic eyes of kate and the blank stare of his lieutenant. deep down, he knew that she was doing everything she could to locate you — the whole base was. with soap leaving no stone unturned as he investigated the residence, gaz checking the cameras installed out the place and the street to find a trace of anything, kate herself flying down to the base to do everything she was capable of doing and ghost doing... something, everyone was on it.

but still, you were his daughter.

his daughter. the one who always waited up for him ever since you learned that your dad would be away for a while but he'd come back. the one who called him 'old man' but cried and got upset whenever he tried to have the 'when i'm gone' conversation with you. the one who made cards for every single occasion, cards he still cherished with his everything. you were his everything and you were nowhere to be found.

in a way he blamed himself, he always did. whether it'd be you catching a fever or not having all of your project supplies, he'd always blame himself. he'd continue to do it until someone — more often than not, kate — came by and knocked some sense into his head, told him that one shortcoming doesn't make him a bad dad.

his eyes glanced around the room, anything to prevent him from looking into the empathetic gaze of kate because it felt like she had already accepted that you were gone. you were not, you were just taken — taken from him and he needed to get you back.

he locked eyes with simon and took in his appearance for the first time since he came into the room. truth be told, nobody really saw him coming in, nobody even called for him to be in here. he just showed up and john knew that it would be futile to get him to go out — not that he wanted him to go. it was weirdly comforting, having simon in the same room as they discussed what to do next. maybe it was because they both had the same goal in their mind, get you back or maybe john had just grown familiar with his presence after countless mornings of him descending down the stairs to see him and you at the breakfast bar. whatever it was, john was grateful simon stuck around.

looking at him, everything was the same, not one thing out of place but john knew different, he knew better. he could see the small specks of blood decorating his infamous skull mask and the empty holster attached to his thigh. he could barely make out the dark spots on his glove but if he strained his eyes enough, he'd find them.

he wasn't looking at simon, he was looking at ghost.

john knew that ghost hadn't expressed one percent of what he actually wanted to express. he knew as soon as he stormed out of the room when laswell broke the news to the team and returned a couple hours later, gloves discarded somewhere and his knuckles stained with blood. he kept his mouth shut, mind running haywire as he tried to plan out anything, anything to get even a sliver of news about your whereabouts.

he could feel kate stare at him with calculating eyes and something akin to guilt swimming in them. he could feel simon stare at his form as he paced around the room, hands fidgeting as he fought the urge to call soap and gaz every minute.

kate's gaze didn't bother him, simon's did because it mirrored his hopelessness.

he was so lost in his own guilt and desperation and defeat that he didn't hear the footsteps thundering down the hallway, not until they were right in front of them and the door slammed open. it was only then he looked to see soap panting, a small piece of paper in his hands and he pointed to it back and forth and for a moment, john could feel the sickening sense of hope swell in his chest.

gaz was right behind soap, seemingly in a better position to speak than the latter and plucked the piece of paper from his teammate's hands and held it out for john to see.

"what — "

"we managed to trace the owner of the car that was seen going around your block more than eighteen times," gaz informed, eyes flickering to ghost who had now made his way towards their small group and back to his captain in front of him. "the car was brought under a very... creative way, three shell companies and we traced each one of them back to a single corporation."

"they have these warehouses, right outside of the town," soap continued, taking notice of the desperation in his captain's eyes and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "it's a very good chance she's there."

"how sure are you?" it was the first time ghost opened his mouth ever since he joined john and kate. his voice gave away nothing and to anyone, it must have sounded like he was just talking about any other mission but john knew that it took everything for him to keep his voice steady and strong.

"damn sure, lt."

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

john remembered the first time he had the 'when i'm gone' talk with you.

you were eleven, and it killed him inside when he realised that he would have to make you understand the risks in his line of work.

he remembered the way you threw him the dirtiest look you could muster, the most withered glare set on your face as soon as he said the words and he had to stop and blink in surprise because goddamn, his daughter was scary.

he remembered the way you shook your head at his every 'understand?' the way you tried to run off to your room and you would've, if not for his arms shooting out to catch you before you could bolt. the way you told him to be quiet as politely as you could when he continued, denial in your eyes at the prospect of your dad going away and not coming back.

he remembered his heart cracking in two when you looked up at him with tears in your eyes and he almost stopped himself, cursing himself in his mind because you shouldn't have to sit here and listen to him telling you what to do in case his dog tags came back and he didn't.

you managed to get yourself free from his hold and rush upstairs to your room and he didn't have it in himself to call you back down and you both left it at that.

the second time he tried to have the talk with you was when you turned eighteen and he got shot on a mission.

the way you looked at him when he woke up in the hospital still haunted him on nights when he couldn't sleep and he knew that he was basically torturing you with this. going away and not providing any guarantee that he would come back but he couldn't.

he could leave tomorrow and say that he'd be back in time for christmas and there would still be a chance that he'd end up coming back home in a casket.

he couldn't give you the security of his arrival but he could prepare you in case anything ever happened and he did. he set apart bank accounts for you, under a different name and a different address. he brought two different apartments in the city, under a different name and a different address. he brought a small house and trusted that you would make it a home, under a different name and a different address. he made sure that you would be okay if he left, after he left and he knew he did a damn good job with it.

you didn't do the same.

he prepared you on how to live if he went away before it was time but he never prepared himself for if, god forbid, you were gone. he never had to because what kind of father would want to come to terms with the knowledge that their kid could leave before them?

"hey — hey, honey," he brushed the hair out of your face, his facade slowly crumbling away with his fingers came back stained with blood — your blood. his gun lays discarded next to him and he almost wants to go back and bullet a few more bullets in those bastards' heads for your condition. "you still with me?"

"dad..." you whispered, eyes fluttering close with fatigue and blood loss as your head rested against the wall. he could see the way you forced your eyelids to stay open, your grip on his hand weak and so delicate that he wanted to scream.

"i'm here, i'm here," he murmured, stroking your cheek to keep you awake while you both waited for the clear signal from the rest. his hands were shaking and he was sure that his heartbeat could be heard by everyone else on the comms but even then, he had to be strong. "i'm here, my sweet girl."

"you know," you forced these words out, eyes unfocused and dazy as you made an attempt to smile at his terror stricken face, "now's my turn to do the 'when i'm gone' talk. you already had two chances."

"NO! no — no, no," he shook his head, eyes blurring ever so slightly as the chaos over the comms became white noise to him. "we will never be having his conversation. ever. i'm supposed to go first and it'll be me. i don't care if i have to fight the fucking grim reaper for this, it'll be me and never you, you hear me? never — never you."

"when i'm gone," you continued as if he didn't practically tell you that he'd fight the devil if you went first and held onto his hand just a little bit tighter, as tight as your wounds would allow you to, "i want you to continue to invite simon around."

"darling — "

"no, please. i know you both and i know you'll just go away from the things that remind you of me and i don't want that," you talked quietly, your voice dipped in pain and john used his free hand to apply more pressure on it and when you didn't really wince or made a move to recoil back, his panic grew. "you both will remind each other of me and i don't want that to just hurt you more. invite him over, have tea, talk shit about me and — and just, keep him company. keep yourself some company."

"none of that is happening because you're not going away," john spoke sternly, his eyes determined and so confident that for a moment, he himself believed that you'd walk away from his alive and breathing. "we have years ahead of us and someone needs to be with me to make fun of riley for liking that stupid sitcom."

"i want you to be happy, dad," you continued, eyes fluttering close and stay shut for me even a longer time now and john panicked. "always happy."

"only when i have you," he shook you awake, your eyes shooting open at the motion and he almost cried in relief. he set you firmly against the wall and withdrew his hand from your grasp to talk over the comms. "lads, how's it looking?"

"positive, i believe. how's our miss soldier doing, sir?" gaz asked and john heard the occasional shower of bullets from his side and figured they were still stuck in the crossfire. "any damage to that billion dollar outfit of hers?"

"well, it's stained with blood now, so," john replied dryly and could feel gaz draw in a sharp inhale at that and figured he'd be out of the harm's way soon. "keep me updated."

he knew ghost was nearby, could feel his boots echoing in the almost empty hallways down the corridor and knew that you both were safe and secure. it was only when he looked away from the corner and back towards you that he noticed your limp hands and the way your head was slumped forward. he hands shook as he cupped your face and called out your name, almost hopefully.

"darling? honey, you gotta wake up," he spoke, almost inaudible and his own voice sounded foreign to him. it sounded too hollow and he hated that it looked like he had already accepted that you were gone. you were not. "come on, love. don't do this to your dad."

his hands were shaking terribly and blood smeared across your cheeks but he didn't care. all that he cared about was that you were there, still and so silent in his arms and you were not answering him. his could feel his heart break. he could make out exactly where it hurt him physically as he repeatedly called out your name and you did not respond.

heavy footsteps sounded from behind him and he didn't have to turn to know that it was simon — ghost, in that moment. he didn't have it in himself to turn. partly because you were here in his arms right now and if he turned, you being gone would be reality and he didn't wanna face that. partly because he didn't want simon to see you like that. blood trickling down the side if your head, face smeared with blood and a wound in the abdomen. no, john wanted simon to remember you happy, smiling and alive.

he wanted simon to have that much, even if his own last memory of you was you begging him to stay happy after your death.

and he thought about it. as he cradled your body close, rocking back and forth, he thought it was simply impossible. as if he'd ever be happy again without you here.

he didn't notice simon walk closer, didn't see him walk around to crouch in front of him and only realised that he was here when he called out his name. he couldn't even hear it clearly, high pitched ringing in his head and blurring images in front of him, the feeling of your blood on your hands, it was all just too much.

" — tain? captain?" simon called out, his eyes locking with his and john knew that it costed ghost his everything not to stare at you. his skull mask laid discared next to him, his signature balaclava in its place as he kneeled down. john could see the way his hold on his gun was too loose and the way his hands were trembling just the slightest bit as placed his gun back in his holster. "we need to get out of here."

"doesn't matter," john replied, his voice not giving away the turmoil in his heart and the war that was going on in his head. "she's gone, ghost."

"cap — "

"my daughter, she — fuck, my kid," john exhaled shakily, his hands carefully pushing away the strands of your hair out of your face. "lord, i don't have a child anymore."

"captain — "

"you don't get it, i'm not a father anymore!" john exclaimed, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence as reality settled in. the weight of it seeped into his bones and he knew that he would carry its weight for the rest of his life. until he saw you again. "i'm not a dad, anymore."

he couldn't let you go, couldn't place you down and let you be gone from him. he couldn't accept it and why would he want to? what kind of father would he be if he just accepted that he was never going to hear someone call him 'dad' ever again? he'd never hear the words 'i love you, dad' or 'good morning, dad' or see your face smiling at him after he came back from a particularly long and stressful deployment or have you hug him whenever you got a nightmare or drink tea with you and simon as he joked about your relationship with his lieutenant. how was he going to accept this cruel and wretched version of reality?

"you'll always be a dad, captain," simon spoke quietly, his hand reaching out to smooth your hand down and just like his own hands, john noticed that it shook. "always gonna be her dad."

john couldn't do anything except watch. he tried to move, his mind screamed at him to move but his body caged him down. the dead weight of you — his daughter — weighted him down and for a moment, he was so sure that he'd feel this weight for the rest of his life. because, how was he supposed to forget the way you asked him to be okay after you? how was he supposed to be okay after you?

how was anyone supposed to be okay after you?

he blinked, eyes stinging with tears that he refused to let down and looked towards simon who was too quiet. john looked at him, watched him as he leaned down until his forehead was pressed against yours and felt an invisible knife twist around his heart. he could see the balaclava move and figured he was saying something to you but the ringing in head refused to let him hear anything, though, he thought that he heard the words 'come back' and 'don't do this to me' and felt his heart break some more. he had never — never — seen his lieutenant look so hopeless. so defeated. not when he found out that you both had broken up for some indefinite reason, not when he got injured on a mission and the only thing he asked for was you, not when you had made it your mission to paint his nails and only relented after his nails were a shade of wine red.

no.

john had always seen ghost so full of life around you. he had always seen his eyes crinkling at the corners as he spoke to you in low tones, always seen his shoulders dropping from their usual tense posture whenever he was around you. he had always seen him as simon around you.

john looked at him and realised that not only did he lose his daughter, simon lost the love or his life. he lost the one thing and one thing only that made him the happiest. he knew simon loved you even though he hadn't said the words out loud out, he knew he loved you. it was evident in the way only you were allowed to hold onto his mask for him as he adjusted his balaclava, in the way he always listened to you speak about anything and everything under the sun and never once interrupted you, in the way he always brought back something for you from his missions, ranging from a rock to a dried flowers.

john looked at him and realised that at any cost, he'd have to make it through this, for simon. for your promise.

for you.

he nodded, not trusting his voice to say anything and moved to stand up, your head lolled against his shoulder as he placed his hand under your knees while the other wrapped around your shoulders. he stood up as carefully as he could, as if any movement would cause you discomfort and held on tighter to push himself to be on his feet and — you whimpered, your wound pressing against his vest and your dad stilled, frozen alongside simon whose eyes shot towards your face as you stirred, your expression scrunched up with pain.

it didn't take more than a second for ghost to abandon his gloves and check your pulse as you went still once again, forcing his hands to stay still. john pretended not to hear him whisper 'please' under his breath as he placed his hand on the side of your neck, mainly because he knew he would break down if simon didn't hold himself together.

he looked at ghost who nodded and then he was already off, walking swiftly in front of john and you as he put on back his gloves and drew his gun to clear out anything that could show up, making a path from their corner to the evacuation point. john walked as fast as he could without jostling you and mumbled rapid apologies as you groaned in pain.

"we're heading out," ghost informed soap and gaz who were on the other side of the floot, drawing out any left hostile parties left. he filled them in your condition and in less than thirty seconds, they were running towards the three of you, panting and guns drawn. "she has already lost consciousness and we need to get her back."

john could only walk wherever ghost turned, his movements a bit too robotic and as they cleared out the building, the only thought he had was you, your safety, your life.

he doesn't remember much of the ride home but judging by the blood — your blood — on his hands and clothes, and the number of times gaz asked him if he was okay, he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

"so, i pass out from the pain and blood loss and your first guess is that i'm dead?"

"well, when you put it like that — "

"there is no other way to put it!" you laughed, instantly regretting your decision to do so as the action pulled on your stitches. "fuck — that's a bit dramatic, don't you think? did you even check my pulse?"

"listen — i was not thinking. my girl was just laying there in her own blood, what was i supposed to do?"

it's been more than a couple weeks since you've been discharged from the hospital, stitches in your abdomen and the side of your head but it's mostly inconvenient rather than painful if you could be honest and john and simon both know this because you have expressed this opinion far too many times.

john and simon both disagreed.

you wish you could say that they had toned the whole scary-guard-dog thing down ever since you got discharged from the hospital but you'd be lying. if anything, their protectiveness dialled a few notches up. if your dad was busy with something, simon stayed with you and vice versa.

now, your dad was protective. you had always known this. if you thought that there was no way he'd be able to get more protective than he was before this whole ordeal, you thought wrong. you weren't allowed to get up from your bed unless it was to stretch your muscles — (simon volunteered to help you with that. you dad threw his boot at him. thrice and then one more time for good measure.) — or to use the bathroom. you were on strict diet for the first week, mainly consisting of fluids and lots of proteins alongside the years' worth of medicine you had to take. he stayed home, officially on leave until he was sure you wouldn't collapse after standing for more than seven seconds and then he stayed for an extra week simply because he wanted to.

("i think i can pick up the remote without popping out my stitches."

"'m not talking any chances, kid.")

and then, there was simon.

if you thought that there could be no more increase in the protective measures after your dad, simon set out to prove you so wrong.

he stayed with you even after your dad went back to the base and that meant he stayed with you. you couldn't move an inch without his hand coming up to stabilize you — you told him you didn't need it, he disagreed — or just straight up pushing you back to sit down, gently and doing whatever you were out to do. it made your life just a tad bit difficult but you knew this was coming from a place of love — and fear.

"i'm okay," you smiled softly at your boyfriend, hands intertwining with his as you both laid on the couch while your dad worked in the kitchen, occasional shouts and gasps announcing his continued presence. "i'm okay."

"the fuck? you are not," simon's eyebrows were furrowed and you fought the urge to lean up and kiss the spot until he relaxed, partly because it would put pressure on your stitches and you did not need another lecture on basic medical knowledge by your dad and your boyfriend again. "don't make me tie to your bed."

"don't threaten me with a good time," you laughed softly at his blank stare, squirming away as he poked one of almost healed bruises. "fuck you."

"you're injured, not now," you could practically feel the smirk behind his mask and gave him the best unimpressed look you could. "stop lookin' at me like that."

"when was the last time you slept?" you ignored his advances and slapped away his hand that was coming up to tug you towards him, looking him in the eye. "you look worse than me."

"i'm breaking up with you."

"no, you're not."

"no, i'm not," simon sighed, his hand coming up to run through his grown blonde hair that he had intended to get cut — not by you because he doesn't trust you with scissors anywhere near his head. "i slept last night."

"liar," you narrowed your eyes at him, taking in the dark circles around his eyes and the way his eyes were droopy and how his eyes remained close when he blinked. "i heard you watching that movie you told me you hated."

"i was not — "

"simon," you sighed and he stopped speaking, knowing he was in for a lecture from you about his sleeping habits and his biological sleep cycle — something you wasn't even sure existed in his body. "love, why haven't you been able?"

he stayed silent, his hands fumbling with your hands and twisting your rings around your fingers. he almost smiled when he noticed the ring that he had made for you on your ring finger, a small 's' in the middle with a semblance of a tiny heart next to it.

"haven't been able to," he replied finally, his voice gruff with faux annoyance directed at your ability to coax answers out of him just like that. "too much going on."

you knew what he meant by that. the last couple weeks have been hectic to say the least and you couldn't help but feel guilty about being a part of the reason for your boyfriend not being able to sleep. "i'm sorry."

"shut up, what for?" he rolled his eyes and placed a fleeting kiss to your cheek, very near to your mouth before leaning back. "i'd take a few sleepless nights over your bleeding out any day."

you didn't say anything, just tugged on his arms firmly enough to make him get the hint and settle back into the mountain of pillows you had brought down from your room. he looked at you, a confused look in his eyes but complied as you pulled him towards yourself and wrapped your arms around him, smiling when he nuzzled into the crook of your neck and finally, relaxed. he pulled back just for a moment, one of his hands coming up to squeeze yours when you frowned at the lack of contact while the other one pulled away his mask, leaving his face bare.

you had seen his face many times but each time, you found yourself falling in love more and more. you knew each and every scar that adorned his face, every inch of uneven skin. you had spent nights kissing all that he thought made him ugly and promised him that he thought so wrong. you said nothing as he looked at you once again, eyea squinting at you playfully before he was back in your arms.

"i love you so much, you know that?" you whispered, your hand playing with his hair. you could feel him press feather light kisses to your neck, his breath fanning over your exposed skin making a trail of goosebumps and you didn't mind it one bit. "you know that right?"

he hummed in reply, pressing himself as close to you as he physically could. you didn't stop playing with his hair, knowing how much it relaxed him and soon him, he went completely still next to you, his grip on your loosening just a bit as he went slack. you couldn't help but admire him when he was like this, his face free of the usual scowl that he pulled up with him at every table, the furrow of his eyebrow that you always kissed, the frown that he had whenever anyone spoke, it was all gone.

you didn't hear your dad come in, a tray of three steaming cups of tea in his hands and settled it down on the centre table, proud of himself. he picked up your usual cup, strawberries drawn on it with a few daisies in the middle spaces and gave it to you, smiling softly before turning to look at simon — who to his surprise, was fast asleep against your shoulder.

"he's knocked out," john remarked, making a mental note to make another cup of tea for simon whenever he woke up and settled back into his designated chair adjacent to yours. "never saw him this... relaxed."

"yeah, well," you sipped out of your cup before placing it on the side table, eyes flickering to simon's still figure before looking back at your dad, a small smile on your lips, "he's been pretty set on not letting me lift a finger."

"he's worried about you," your dad nodded and you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter. "never seen him so out of mind. you know he loves you, right? he would fold the earth in the half if anything happened to you."

"i know, dad," you replied, eyes locked on simon as he slept next to you. you could see his chest rising and falling with every breath he took, his lips slightly parted as he breathed in and out evenly. "i don't even know how i'm supposed to tell him just how much he means to me. i don't know where to begin."

"he knows," he stated, sipping out of his own mug — with small yellow crowns — and setting it back down. "you'll both make it, you know? don't need to see the future to figure that out."

you knew what he was talking about.

you'd make it. of course, you would. it was simon who held your hand randomly while you walked around your town. it was simon who made sure that you were always stocked up with your favourite candies and chocolates. it was simon who learnt how to make paper rings because you were singing that song about how you'd marry him with paper rings. it was simon, always.

and even if this lifetime was enough for you, you knew that you'll find yourself falling for him in every other life. in all the universes out there, in every version of reality, you'd find yourself in love with him. you knew this much, you felt it in your bones.

maybe in another life, you would've seen him from across the bar and he would've sent a drink your way. maybe you would've ran into him at a coffee shop and he would've asked you your favourite blend. maybe you would've been childhood friends and he would've always been in love with you.

it would always be you and him.

"yeah, i know."

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

[tenjito]

the tide is high, but i'm holding on. || miyawaki sakura

pairing: miyawaki sakura x female reader contents: exes to lovers, forced proximity technically, chaewon's so done, y/nkura are eunchae's divorced parents, swearing, jealousy, kissing description: you and sakura broke up right before iz*one officially disbanded. coincidentally, the both of you ended up debuting in the same group again.

it's moments like these where you start to question your entire existence as a whole, because who the fuck decided to put you and your ex-girlfriend in the same group?

okay, sure, no one actually knew that the two of you dated (aside from the other members of iz*one), so it makes sense that hybe didn't know the possible consequences of it all.

you and sakura broke up a week before your iz*one contracts ended. the two of you were having another argument—which had been happening quite frequently for the past few weeks—in the car while you drove to meet the rest of the members for dinner.

"sakura, i don't get why you're so pissed off at me! it's not my fault we barely get to spend time together!" you yelled, eyes on the road as you gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"well then, whose fault is it, y/n? it certainly isn't mine since i'm not the one who has on cancel on you everytime we make any plans together!" your girlfriend shouted from the passengers seat, running her fingers through her hair in fraustration.

"ugh sakura, let it go! i told you already, i've been busy." you stated, feeling like a broken record repeating yourself for the hundredth time. "besides, every time we are together, we just end up fighting like always!" you admitted, and maybe it was a harsh thing to say, but it was true.

but nothing could've prepared you for sakura's next words.

"maybe we should just break up then." her voice was low, almost like a whisper compared to the shouting and yelling from a few seconds ago, and her lip quivered ever so slightly as you stopped at a red light.

your heart sank. you couldn't have possibly heard her correctly... right? that question was soon answered as you turned to face the woman beside you, and the tears in her eyes only meant one thing.

you couldn't say anything. you didn't know what to say. you only stare in disbelief at sakura, who faced the window, avoiding any eye contact with you. before you could utter a response, a beep was heard from the car behind you and the light was green.

your hands were no longer firmly gripping the steering wheel. instead, they were shaking as you drove and you bit down on your lip to try focus your thoughts on the road rather than on sakura's previous words.

"pullover. i'm getting off." she suddenly spoke up.

"what? you can't just—"

"i can do whatever i want, y/n. you're not my girlfriend anymore." sakura's voice noticeably cracked while she said the last sentence, and a sharp, sickly sensation cut through your heart when you heard it.

you pulled over. she got out. no words. no goodbye. no see you later. no nothing. just the sound of the car door slamming and the empty silence that followed.

sad driving was dangerous, but just-broke-up-with-your-girlfriend sad was a lot worse. luckily enough, despite the crying throughout the whole drive, you made it to the restaurant without any accidents.

"where's sakura?" chaeyeon asked after you greeted the group, and your attempts of hiding your swollen eyes and dried up tears from your members earlier were useless, because you ended up crying to them about the whole situation.

in conclusion, that night was full of drinking, crying, comforting and more crying, but no matter how much alcohol you consumed, nothing would change the fact that sakura was gone.

seemingly enough, you learned to forget and move on from the heartbreak (or at least that's what you convinced yourself), and never spoke to sakura ever since that day.

that was until: le sserafim.

this new group was a blessing and a curse for the both of you, but mostly a curse.

it was undoubtedly awkward at the start, and there was evident tension between the two of you.

the rest of the members, apart from chaewon, were completely confused about this. all three of you were in the same group, so why was it that you and sakura seemed to hate each other? eunchae, who was probably the biggest iz*one fan there, was especially confused.

she remembered the two of you being inseparable during iz*one days. 'y/nkura' was probably the biggest ship among fans (she shipped it too), so what the hell happened?

kim chaewon knew the answer to that question since she was the only one who knew about your past relationship, and she also knew that two exes being in the same group as each other was indeed, a very bad idea. especially if it was you and sakura.

but being your leader and longtime friend, chaewon practically forced the both of you to at least try to get along.

turns out, it wasn't that bad.

"y/n, could you pass me a knife?" sakura asks, taking out a few vegetables from the fridge and laying them on the table. you perk up from your seat and switch off your phone.

"not even a 'please'?" you tease, walking over to the cutlery drawer and retrieving a knife. sakura rolls her eyes as you handed her the knife.

"please and thank you," she says before placing a carrot onto the chopping board.

you took this as an opportunity to steal a piece of meat that she'd been cooking from the sizzling pan. sakura was basically the chef of the house, always cooking for the other members. you'll never admit it, but her cooking was your absolute favourite.

"y/n!" sakura shouts, grabbing your arm before you could reach the food. she gives you a stern look and you let out a groan.

"but i'm hungryyy," you drag, dramatically pouting at the older. she lets go off your arm and smiles.

your heart flutters and your face heats up. i forgot how pretty her smile was...

"just wait, i'm almost done." sakura says, but you don't move. you just watch.

you watch the way strands of her hair fall past her face, and the way she gently tucks them back behind her ear afterwards. you watch her glued eyes that are so focused on what she's doing, and you find it adorable.

wait. no you don't. you can't. she's your ex, you idiot—

"i can feel you staring at me." sakura speaks, snapping you out of your trance.

your ears burn in embarrassment. "uh," quick, make up an excuse! "it's 'cause you're cutting it wrong, dummy. i'll show you how it's done."

you let out a breath before taking the knife from sakura and moving closer. the older just waits in anticipation, arms folded with a rather judging look.

despite the incredibly cocky expression on your face, you've never actually used a kitchen knife before, let alone cooked anything in your life. maybe this isn't the best idea, you think, and you hesitantly turn to face sakura.

"go on,"

the chastising tone in her voice irks you. just cut the damn carrot, y/n. and so you did. the knife is sharp and it goes through the carrot a lot smoother than you had initially expected.

"you're cutting it the same way. what's the difference?" sakura says wearily, and she's so close to your ear that you almost jump.

"sh-shut up, just wait!" you complain, more nervous about the fact that your ex was inches away from your face and sakura holds her hands up in defence.

"okay, okay..!"

you're a lot less confident now. you feel sakura's breaths on your nape as she's peering over your shoulder, and you don't what or how it happens, but the knife slips in your hands and you feel a sharp sting on your finger.

"shit—" you hiss, abruptly dropping the knife on the chopping board.

out of pure impulse, sakura instinctively takes a tissue from the kitchen table and grabs your hand, carefully wiping the blood off your finger. she opens the supply drawer next to you and takes out a small bandaid before wrapping it around the cut. you wince at the action, but sakura tells you to stay still and you do.

once the bandaid is on and sakura lets go off your hand, the both of you realize what the the actual fuck just happened. sakura's eyes leave yours first and she clears her throat.

"are you, uhm...are you okay?" she asks awkwardly, and you quietly nod.

neither of you even dare to face the other. it stays silent, the tension in the room threatening to crush you with its unbearable weight. the silence is thankfully broken by the sound of the door opening.

"unnie! is the food ready yet?" eunchae asks, walking into the room. sakura informs her just two more minutes and she's done. you go back to your seat, and you and sakura don't talk to each other for the rest of the day.

it's been a week since the incident, and you and your ex have been ignoring each other as much as possible. the only times you would interact was when you were forced to during practices or livestreams. of course, the first person to notice the avoidance is your leader, and she was very annoyed to say the least.

"i thought you two promised you were going to get along? you were fine last week, what happened?" chaewon is sat across from you and sakura, looking like she was about to murder the both of you.

you huff, rolling your eyes. chaewon sighs and turns her head to face sakura, knowing that you weren't willing to answer the question she had just asked.

"chae, it's hard, okay? we didn't really...end on the best terms, so it's too weird to just start speaking normally to each other as if nothing happened." the japanese woman says, grimacing at the memory of the break up.

does she regret it? yeah. every waking moment she regrets it. does she still have feelings for you? maybe. she isn't entirely sure anymore. can she undo what happened between you and her? unfortunately, no. she wants to, but she can't, and it's all her fault.

"i know, i understand that but," chaewon pinches the bridge of her nose and squints hard before continuing. "we're a team now. both of you have to stop hating each other so much, even if you're exes. you need to do it for the rest of the group, and for the fans."

you hate to admit it but your leader was right. the other girls and the fans don't know about you and sakura's past, so you have to suck it up and pretend like nothing happened, like you aren't still heartbroken.

you have to pretend like you were never in love with miyawaki sakura.

the words "i love you" were never actually exchanged by you or sakura during your relationship. it was felt, but never said. and honestly, you were quite grateful for that fact. otherwise, the break up would've hurt more than it already did. you knew that well.

"okay," you say hesitantly, looking at your leader and then to the eldest. "we'll...try."

and for the next few weeks, try you did.

it was going well so far. you and sakura eventually moved passed the awkward exes stage and into the friendly exes stage, a major improvement from the month before. the only thing you had to do now was keep it up.

your group was currently promoting your latest comeback 'antifragile'. after performing the song for music bank, your group was getting ready to leave. yunjin had to go to the restroom, so the rest of you just waited in the hall until she came back.

"y/n?" a voice calls, and you immediately turn to see who it is.

"miyeon, hey!" you say enthusiastically. the (g)i-dle member pulled you into a tight embrace and you smiled as you pulled away. "it's been so long!"

"i know! i've missed you so much,"

miyeon had been a close friend of yours ever since she was a trainee and you were in produce 48. the two of you have always stayed in contact but rarely got to meet up outside of work, so the both of you took this as an opportunity to catch up.

you were too occupied with miyeon to notice yunjin come back from the restroom, and you most definitely didn't notice the glares sakura was sending your friend as you spoke to her.

"y/n, we have to go." chaewon then speaks up, tapping you on the shoulder. you nod and say goodbye to miyeon, noticing her group calling for her too. your group made their way out, and the girls started chatting.

"i'm so tired. i just wanna go to bed," eunchae says, and kazuha nods in agreement.

yunjin gasps, "you're tired? i'm so hungry i can't even think about sleep." she admits, and they laugh.

"i agree," you say, then turn to the eldest who had been oddly quiet the whole time. "i say chef sakura should cook us her special ramen." you chaffed, but the older didn't seem too pleased.

"why should i make it? you can cook it yourself if you're so hungry." the tone in sakura's voice was aggressive, and everyone could tell something was upsetting her.

well, everyone except you, because it doesn't surprise you whenever your ex acts like this towards you.

"because it's always better when you make it."

sakura can't hide the light blush that settles on her cheeks and trickles down her neck at your words. god why was she feeling like this? she ignores the way her heartbeat was now ten times faster than before and rolls her eyes.

"it'll taste the same if you make it." she says, entering the car before you could give a response.

"what's up with her?" you mutter under your breath as you follow the others into the vehicle.

you couldn't help but notice that the car ride home was weirder than it should've been. eunchae and kazuha had fallen fast asleep at the back of the car, so obviously it was a lot quieter than usual. but there was something else.

someone else.

everyone had gone to bed by now, but as always, you were still awake. you had left you and kazuha's shared room to make some tea since sleeping wasn't something you were planning on doing anytime soon.

you lean against the kitchen counter, mindlessly staring at the kettle boiling the water, waiting patiently for its whistle to calm.

"you're still up? it's late." a voice interrupts your empty thoughts, and you look up to see who had just spoken, a little startled since you had assumed no one else was awake at this time.

"sakura." you watch as the japanese woman walks over to stand next to you, rubbing her eyes slightly, noticeably tired from the exhausting day. "why aren't you sleeping?"

there's a brief silence before she speaks up, and when she does, her voice is barely above a whisper.

"i'm sorry."

you stare at sakura, confused. "what?"

she sighs, "i-..i'm sorry about today. i shouldn't have been such an asshole to you, i was just—" she pauses, and you can tell straight away that there's something on her mind.

"what's wrong, kkura-chan?"

sakura's breath hitches, and her heart is telling her several things she can't ignore.

kkura-chan.

she hasn't heard you call her that in forever. it was her favourite nickname you'd call her when the two of you were dating, and fuck did she miss the sound of it. she had always felt comforted and safe whenever you used to use it, so maybe that's why she was able to tell you the truth. the full truth.

"i was jealous," she starts, head down as she anxiously tensed her shoulders. "i was jealous of miyeon when the two of you were talking earlier and i felt...angry. not at you, or miyeon, but at myself. and i know, i know, i have no right to feel jealous of it because you're not mine anymore and you've moved on, so i should too but i can't because it fucking hurts—"

"kkura."

"—and i'm saying this now because i don't know how much longer i can go without telling you that i still have feelings for you, and i regret ever breaking up with you every day of my—"

"sakura!" your shout stops her from continuing her rant, and she only looks up at you with an apologetic expression. she doesn't dare say anything more, and just waits for you to yell at her, or tell her that she's a shit person, or ask her to leave.

but no. instead, she's met with something nothing could've prepared her for.

your lips were on hers.

you kissed her, and she immediately kissed back. you were the first to pull away, though the kiss was only short, and sakura could only wonder one thing. why? and as if you could read her mind, you told her exactly why.

"i love you, kkura. and honestly?..i don't think i ever stopped. i was never able to move on from you, even if i knew i had to...i just couldn't. no matter what i did to try and forget, i couldn't help but miss every part of you. i missed your voice, i missed your smile, i missed the way you laughed and the way you made me laugh. i just missed you. and when you left, i knew i wouldn't be the same, because i'm nothing without you, sakura."

she's staring at you in absolute shock, and you're staring back with a hinge of fear, but there's something so soothing about the soft smile that ever so slowly forms on her face.

"i love you too, y/n. i always have."

and then, this time, it's sakura who closes the distance.

neither of you waste any time, really. sakura's hands make their way to your hair and yours are on her hips.

sakura seems more sure of herself in the harsh light of the kitchen than she's ever been, her hands firm, and seeming to know exactly what she wants.

she presses forward, pushing you back into the counter as your lips move together, hands smoothing over the fabric of your shirt, down down, and then under, and then up, and when you feel sakura's long fingers stroking the skin right under your ribs, you hum against her mouth.

there is a lot happening all at once, hands and mouths and bodies, and sakura bites gently against your lower lip like she knows what she’s doing, and that's because she does. she always does.

you breathe in all of her, and her scent is one you've grown to miss. sakura sighs against you, fingers scratching at the base of your neck while your hand slides up to slip into her shirt from below, tracing over her warm skin.

sakura makes a sound, a small, ragged sound, and you can hear it so clearly in the silence of the empty room. her teeth bite down a little more harshly when you grab firmly and you make a small, ragged sound of your own.

you slide your leg between sakura's, pull her even closer, drink in her surprised noise with a grin before carefully, carefully, coaxing sakura's mouth open.

she tastes like the strawberry lip balm she used to always use so long ago, and you can't help but smile against her lips, because it’s sakura, your sakura, whom you realise hasn't changed at all.

and then she whines, just when you thought that small, ragged sound was the best sound you'd ever hear, and it’s almost involuntary, the way you drag sakura's hips closer. her hands press more firmly against your ribs, slip forward to press against the indents of your abs, slip down, fingers dipping under the waistband of your jeans.

the door opens and there's a very obvious echo of someone clearing their throat as you and sakura rush to pull apart.

"this is not what i meant when i said 'try to get along',"

sakura shyly buries her head into the crook of your neck to hide her flushed face as she holds in a laugh.

"are you mad?" you ask chaewon.

your leader shakes her head. "no. quite relieved, actually." but her face doesn't change from the scolding look she wore initially. "but that doesn't mean i'm letting you two continue your make out session. i need sleep, and i'd rather not hear any more sounds coming from either of you. goodnight."

chaewon leaves, and you and sakura burst out into laughter.

"i missed you, kkura-chan."

she smiles.

"i missed you too, y/nnie."

[malum-forev]

Hi, can I request ex husband!bucky x reader with the prompt “what makes you think you can…” from the bingo card??

Hi hiii thank you sooo much for your ask! Sooo, I kind of blacked out and ended up writing something that's over 3k words long. Hope you like it! It's kind of a part 2 to this story I wrote! I thought this prompt fit perfectly! get ready for ANGST CENTRAAALLLL

“Please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up.” (Y/n) begged, hearing the third ring on her side of the phone. 

She didn’t know what to say. Hell, she didn’t know it was happening until this week! It would have gone completely unnoticed if it hadn’t been for an especially excited teacher. (Y/n)’s stomach just about dropped onto the floor as she heard her daughter’s teacher say how generous and kind Bucky was. 

Another ring, one more and I can hang up. She thought but no, nothing with Bucky was ever simple. He couldn’t not answer the phone when (Y/n) wanted. Was that too much to ask? For Bucky to read her mind?

“Hey, do-“ Bucky stopped himself, trying to mask it with a cough. He couldn’t call you that anymore, he had to remember that. “What’s up?”

“Hi, I just wanted to ask you about something but I guess you’re busy so I’ll just-“

Bucky laughed. “I’m never too busy for you.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, talk about nothing being simple. He couldn’t even make the divorce that he wanted easy!

“So, I didn’t know this happened or better yet how it happened but,” She took a deep breath. “Peanut’s school is having a gala, a fund raiser and somehow P put your name down.”

The line went silent for a couple of seconds.

“I tried to explain to the school that you would be busy and that you don’t even go to your work galas.” She tried to joke, gnawing on her bottom lip nervously.

Bucky broke the silence with a noise. “Mhm.”

“But they said that when the parents saw the school was auctioning a day with an Avenger, ticket sales went up like 200 percent.”

“Oh Peanut.” Bucky groaned. 

“I know you’re probably going to be busy,” (Y/n) said. “I just had to ask. P threatened to paint her hair blue if I didn’t give you a call.”

“She gets that from you.” Bucky’s low chuckle sent tingles through her body. 

(Y/n) leaned on the wall behind her with a deep breath, she could always count on Bucky to calm her nerves. “Sure, we can say P gets her determination and ability to blackmail from me and not her father, James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky’s belly laugh warmed (Y/n)’s heart, it had been a long time since she’d heard it. 

“When’s the thing?” 

“It’s next Friday but don’t worry, we can auction off something from that old box I have in the attic. Maybe that old leather jacket-“

“Don’t you dare.” Bucky playfully growled. “Never get rid of my lucky jacket! If I remember correctly that thing is the reason I got a second date out of you.”

Her mind went to that moment in time, all those years ago. It was Bucky’s favorite but he said it looked better on her. 

“Is P going to the gala?” Bucky interrupted (Y/n)’s thoughts.

“Yeah, kids can go too.” She continued. “How about you ask Sam to submit a signed shield. The prototypes that no one uses-“

“I’ll be there.”

“What?” Her eyes just about bulged out of their sockets.

“I’ll be there.” Bucky repeated casually, like it wasn’t the first time ever he wanted to go to any of Peanut’s school events. Let alone a gala!

“You do know you’ll have to wear a tux, right?” She noted.

“You’ll be there, right?” Bucky asked. 

“Mhm.” (Y/n) brought her bottom lip in between her teeth. 

“Then I’m sure I can find one or two in the back of my closet.” Bucky smiled thinking about his options. She won’t be happy, but it’ll be worth it. He thought. 

“Oh-okay. So I guess I’ll see you next week.”

- 

(Y/n) smoothed the fabric of her dress nervously. Did Bucky forget he was supposed to be here? Was he sent on a mission at the last moment? She looked over at Peanut at the kids table, so excited that her dad was finally going to something at her school.

When she first started, some of her classmates and teachers didn’t believe she was Bucky’s daughter. (Y/n) and Bucky had chosen an extremely protected private school for the same reason, they didn’t want someone else telling P about the Winter Soldier, not before she was old enough to understand. 

After the first tear dropped from Peanut’s eyes, when she told her dad no one at school believed her, you best believe Bucky picked her up every single day. He would often take off his jacket as soon as he got to her school just so everyone would shut their mouths. No one was to make his little girl cry, ever. 

(Y/n) turned to the bar behind her and ordered a glass of champagne. 

“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” One of the women next to (Y/n) asked her friends. 

“Honey, if he does, you gals better take out a loan because that man is going home with me.” An older woman laughed into her drink.

“A recently divorced hunk? Sign me up. I don’t need the full day, just a couple of hours with him and it’ll be enough.” Another one said.

(Y/n) cringed at their words. She obviously has eyes, she knew what her ex-husband looked like but did people have to talk about him like he was just a piece of meat? 

The whole room suddenly got quiet. (Y/n) looked left and right to see what had happened and it wasn’t long until she found out. Bucky strolled into the room. 

He did not. (Y/n) thought.

Bucky was wearing the tuxedo he wore at their wedding. The black-on-black combination made him look even more mysterious than he already was. But every ounce of his dark persona disappeared once he heard the two magic words.

“Hi Daddy!” Peanut came running towards Bucky at full speed. With a small umph Bucky picked up his daughter and twirled her around. 

“Hello princess.” Bucky smiled, melting for his sweet little girl. “Why don’t you tell me where mommy is?”

Peanut pointed a chubby finger towards (Y/n) and she held up her champagne glass, the murmurs and gasps of the women next to her didn’t go unnoticed. 

Bucky placed Peanut back on the floor and set his eyes on (Y/n), it was like everything and everyone around him became blurry. He could only see her. 

“You’re late.” (Y/n) looked up at him. 

“I’m the talent, I am never late.” Bucky smiled at her, the kind of smile that made women all over the world want to drop to their knees, for various reasons. 

(Y/n) laughed, pushing Bucky away with her left hand. Bucky took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the spot on her third finger where her ring used to sit.  

“You look radiant.” Bucky came closer to (Y/n) placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth. 

She took in his intoxicating smell, it had been forever since she’d been this close to him. (Y/n) took a deep breath, the memories coming to life again. But before she could get lost in the past, the present came into view. 

(Y/n) cleared her throat and took a step back before turning to the women gawking next to them. “Ladies, may I introduced you to my ex-husband, James?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to them, a forced smile playing on his lips.

(Y/n) slipped from the group with a light laugh and sat down at her table, the auction about to start. 

It wasn’t long before Bucky’s category came up, women desperate to cheat on their husbands without actually doing it. (Y/n) smiled cheekily as she saw Bucky fidget on the stage, the bright lights made him feel like he was a show horse. 

“Mr. Barnes was kind enough to auction a day with an Avenger, the winner of this would spend the day at the Avengers Compound and meet some of the people responsible for our safety!” Peanut’s principal spoke into the microphone.

“I can’t assure a tour of the compound.” Bucky’s raspy voice said through the speakers. 

“We’ll see the details later.” The principal waved him off. “How about we start the bidding at four hundred dollars?”

“Five hundred.” A woman way too old to be with Bucky, and that’s taking into consideration that he’s over a hundred years old, raised her bid card. 

“Six hundred.” Another woman said. 

“Seven hundred.” A third spoke.

Bucky’s eyes kept getting bigger and bigger, he hadn’t considered the fact that women would actually bid to be with him. He turned to (Y/n) with pleading eyes.

“Mommy, aren’t you gonna bid on daddy?” P asked her. 

“Honey-“ (Y/n) was about to explain how for some people spending a day with her Dad would be the experience of a lifetime, when one of the women she heard speaking so vulgarly about Bucky raised her card. 

“One thousand dollars.” The woman had a smug look on her face. 

“Going once-“ The principal said. 

“Mommy do something.” Peanut whispered. 

“Going twice.” Bucky threw his head back. Fuuck. He thought. 

“Go-“

“Two thousand dollars.” (Y/n) raised her card. 

Bucky’s head snapped forward at the sound of her voice. His scowl turned into a smile. 

“Sold, to the lady in the back.” The principal’s eyes just about turned into dollar signs.

- 

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you.” Bucky whispered, hiking Peanut’s body up. At some point in the night she had fallen asleep and now her father was carrying her to (Y/n)’s car. 

(Y/n) waved her hand. “It was nothing. I couldn’t let you spend a day with that hornets’ nest. She would’ve eaten you alive. 

“Still- thank you.” Bucky’s kind eyes were one of the first things that drew (Y/n) to him, the same shade he now shared with his daughter.  

(Y/n) unlocked her car so he could strap Peanut in. 

“So, when should I pick you up?” Bucky opened (Y/n)’s door so she could get in. 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, about the auction thing. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you’re going to be busy.”

“How’s next Thursday at 8 sound? We can take P to school and I’ll give you an extremely memorable ‘Day with an Avenger’.” Bucky’s smooth words coated her heart.

“I’ve already had a couple of ‘Days with an Avenger’ and they haven’t been that memorable.” She teased.

“I can think of a couple of memorable days where you would beg-“

(Y/n) clamped her hand over Bucky’s mouth. “You can’t say that!”

“Would I be lying?” Bucky’s muffled voice said proudly.

“I’ll see you next Thursday.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes with a smile. “Please don’t be late.”

“Promise.”

-

The doorbell rang at 7:50 am on Thursday. 

“Be careful Peanut!” (Y/n) yelled as she opened the door. “Don’t fall from the stool! I don’t really feel like visiting the hospital right now.”

She huffed as she opened the door. Mornings were always chaotic but now, without another pair of helping hands it felt impossible. But here he was. 

Bucky stood at the other side of the door, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. A bouquet of her favorite flowers on one hand and balancing two coffees on the other. 

“Good morning.” Bucky placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Need help with anything?”

(Y/n) stepped aside with her jaw on the floor, letting Bucky come inside. 

“Hiya Daddy!” Peanut beamed, shoving another forkful of French toast in her mouth. 

“How’s my number one girl doing this morning?” Bucky asked, placing a kiss on the top of her head. 

(Y/n) stepped into the kitchen, feeling like she’d walked into another dimension. 

“Sorry doll, you’ve been bumped down to the number two spot.” Bucky winked at (Y/n) and her eyebrows shot up. “You still keep the vases on the top cupboard?” 

(Y/n) slowly nodded, the shocked expression never left her. 

Definitely an alternate dimension, it’s the only explanation. She thought. 

Drop off was perfect and the ride to the compound was actually pleasant. 

“You got a new car.” (Y/n) hummed, looking around Bucky’s new SUV. 

He nodded proudly. “I can’t ride around on a bike forever. Plus, you asked me to get a car.”

“I asked you to get a car over a year ago.” She snorted. 

Bucky shrugged, the relaxed smile on his lips never faltered. “Took me a while but I got it.”

(Y/n) eyed her ex-husband curiously. Fresh haircut, cologne, pressed t-shirt. New car, more present. Something changed. “Okay, who is she?”

“Who’s who?” Bucky’s forehead creased.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, you can tell me who she is.”

“If you’re trying to say I’m dating someone, I’m not.” Bucky looked a little offended.

“I never said anything about dating.” (Y/n) laughed. “You can get some without making it official.”

“I’m not doing that either.” Bucky grumbled, his grip on the steering wheel made his knuckles white.

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t know you not getting any was a sore subject.” She held her hands up in surrender and laughed. “You do know you can do that right? I’m pretty sure the papers we signed mean that we’re no longer together, meaning you can have se-“

Bucky’s groan interrupted her, he ran his palm through his face. “Can we not talk about my sex life please? I actually have a nice day planned, and it doesn’t include this topic of conversation.”

“You. Have a day planned.” She emphasized the words. 

“Please feel free make me sound more like an asshole.” Bucky chuckled. 

And what a day did he have planned. 

It started by taking her to the newly renovated Avengers Museum on the compound. Bucky showed (Y/n) a few never before seen pictures of himself from the 40’s. 

“The investigators dug these up.” He smiled. 

“You were a baby!” She laughed, posing for a picture next to the blown-up print of him.

“You think Peanut will look like me when she’s a little bit older?” Bucky came up behind her, resting his head on hers and tossing his arms over her shoulders. 

(Y/n) relaxed into his body. “You want her to look more like you? She’s basically your twin.” 

His laugh made her whole body vibrate. “What can I say? We should have tried to get a boy after P, maybe he would look like you.”

Afterwards came a late lunch by the lake followed by a tour of the new wing dedicated to Steve Rogers. Bucky had thought of everything. He asked Sam to pick up Peanut from school and make sure she did her homework, took a bath and brushed her teeth before going to bed. 

The sun was setting as Bucky drove (Y/n) home, he rested his hand on the center console hoping she would take it. It wasn’t long until she intertwined their fingers. 

Bucky opened her side of the door and helped her down. (Y/n) leaned on his car. 

“Thank you for a lovely day.” She smiled. “Don’t know if it was worth 2k but, I had an amazing time.”

Bucky fake gasped, clutching the left side of his chest. “You don’t think I’m worth two thousand measly dollars?”

“Some of us actually have to work to get two thousand dollars, not just pose around and look cute.” She bit the inside of her cheek to stop a smile from forming.

Bucky stepped closer to her. “Well I would pay you way more than that to pose around for me. You already have the cute thing down to a T.”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, dragging his knuckles against her cheek and stopping at her lips. Bucky pulled her closer to him and placed his lips on hers. At first it was soft but once his brain registered what was happening, it turned dark and hungry. It was like he was running out of oxygen and the only thing that could breathe life into him was her kiss. 

With a gasp, she pushed him away.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked breathlessly, bringing her fingers to her throbbing lips. 

“(Y/n), please.” Bucky sighed. “I want you, I need you. And I’m not talking about stupid sex, I’m talking about you. Talking to you every day, telling me off for things I do or don’t do, I want us. Together.”

Her eyebrows creased, she felt her body heat up with rage. “What makes you think you can kiss me like that? Like nothing’s ever happened. Like you’ve forgotten we’re not together anymore.”

“Please.” Bucky’s crystal blue eyes reddened. “Do you want me to get on my knees? Because I’ll do it. I’m begging you, please take me back. I want to be with you, forever.”

(Y/n) sniffled, tears of her own threatening to fall. “I’m not falling for this, not again. I’m about to finish mending my broken heart, I’ve just finished putting the pieces back together and for you to come here and-“

“I’m trying-“ Bucky cried. “I’m really trying to show you that I’ve changed.”

(Y/n) let out a dry laugh. “Does going to one gala and buying a car mean you’ve changed? I asked you to buy that thing for a whole year and you never even thought about it.”  

“But I’m doing it now, does that mean anything?” Bucky asked with saddened eyes.

“Yes, it means that you only want me because you can’t have me.”

“That’s not-“ He tried to argue but she turned towards her door. 

“Thank you for the nice day James but, I have to go to my real life. The one in which we’re still divorced and you have to leave for some undisclosed amount of time to a classified location. Do you remember? Your reallife.” (Y/n) opened her front door, thanking Sam for taking care of Peanut. 

Bucky was left on the driveway with tears running down his cheek. 

Part 3 here!

Hi hii! I've tagged everyone who commented Pt2 on my first fic and reblogged! <3 Hope you guys like it, if you do remember to like reblog and comment! I'll love you forever if you do <3

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour @aimeekatee @learisa @deadspeed @happinessinthebeing @multitargaryen @ajordan2020 @almosttoopizza @empollito @jbbarnesgirl. @uniquecroissant @mavrellover91 @angstysebfan @buckswhore-com @coffeebooksandfandom @azenpal @stanofmanythingslol @msknb-blog @intrepidacious @ladyloki3 @buck-fics @honeyglee @vileepponine @sebstanwhore @helium-queen @lokislady82 @crazygirlinthisworld @superforgottensoul @bibbidibobbidibucky @mdc-203081

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

[rebelliousstories]

What Did You Say?

Relationship: Norm McLean x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @fallout-girl219

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Pregnancy

Word Count: 1,406

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: The whole reason they got married was with the goal of repopulation. That is why anyone in the Vaults gets married. Being married to Norm is a challenge all on its own.

Norm was speechless. That alone was highly unusual for him as he did not get speechless, simply he did not voice every thought that pops into his head. But here he sat, without a thought to voice, and a mouth with which to do it. He did not process the fact that his wife was slowly loosing her smile, and instead of excitedly bouncing, she was shifting nervously.

“What’s going on in your head, sweetheart?” She asked, concerned for her husband’s wellbeing. In the entire time that they had been married, or even had known each other, she had never known him to be this paralyzed.

“Are you sure?” Sure, it was not the best thing to say, but it was the first thing that came to him.

“Of course I’m sure. The doctor checked me a couple days ago,” she moved to hold his hands. “Norm, we’re having a baby.” While she held out hope that at some point he would get excited with her, that hope was draining by the second.

“And it’s mine?” Again, it was not the best thing to come out of his mouth because her look turned sour really quick.

“Are you accusing me of something, Norman?” Her voice was no longer sweet; this was a dangerous growl.

“No, no. I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m just- we’re having a baby?” He was still not on the same plane of existence as her.

“Yes, Norm. We’re having a baby. I thought you’d be excited, or joyful, or even able to crack a darn smile. What is going on with you?” She was starting to tip over into yelling and their vault doors could only do so much sound proofing.

“No I’m- I mean, yes I… just,” he stammered, “I’m just not sure this is the best time.” He murmured, and began to fiddle with his hands.

“Well, it’s apparently a perfect time according to our bodies. Ever heard the expression, ‘it takes two to tango’? I didn’t make a baby by myself.” It felt like such an obvious observation, and yet, she felt like she was trying to talk to a child.

“I know that, I’m just. I’m not sure I’m fit to be a dad. I’m just gonna-” and he took off. Opening their door, Norm left their little humble home to go off to who knows where. Slouching to the floor, she held her stomach and cried. Sure people got scared to be parents but they did not run out on their pregnant wives while doing so? Thoughts ran wild in her head with Norm gone. Would she end up being a single mother? She knew that divorce was a thing but no one in the last two hundred years had one in the vaults. If someone was a single parent, it was because one parent had died.

Her sobs continued well into the night. Even when dinner time came, she ate alone; staring at the empty seat but a full plate where Norm would sit. She went on with her nightly routine as if nothing was wrong, as if half of her world was not missing. The bed felt too big now without her husband. As she lay in bed, she could not help but to let the tears come once again. She cried herself to sleep without even realizing it, and was only awoken by the morning bell. Her husband’s side was still together, even if she had taken his pillow to provide some comfort for herself.

She went about her breakfast routine, but was quickly sent to vomit when she smelled the eggs and bacon she had prepared. Coming out, nothing looked amiss, and she set about making toast. Toast would be safe to eat.

An executive decision was made for her, by her, to stay in for the day. She could afford a day off with the evening she had. A lot of her time was spent reading, or staring at the door. As much as she did not like him right now, she still loved her husband and wanted him by her side. The notification came through her pip-boy from the doctor about her ultrasound appointment today. It almost felt bittersweet. On one hand, she did not feel like inviting Norm to the appointment with how he was acting. But on the other hand,he was still her husband and the father of her child. He deserved the choice at least.

The forwarded message came across the gear that was on Norm’s arm, and he was shocked. After he ran away last night like a coward, he did not expect this from his wife. Norm saved the appointment onto his pip-boy for later use and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“You alright, son?” Hank asked of his boy, bringing over two mugs. The one with tea was set in front of the younger MacLean, while his dad drank his allotted amount of coffee.

“Just grappling my thoughts. She sent me a notification of a doctor’s appointment this evening, but I don’t even know if she really wants me there.” Norm admitted, fiddling with his hands underneath the table.

“If I remember one thing about your mother, is that during both of her pregnancies, her hormones made her a ball of emotions. You could say the grass was green and she would burst out crying.” Hank chuckled, and took another sip while his son just sat there.

“There was a time where she was so angry with me that I didn’t like the name that she picked for her top name for you, that I was kicked to the couch for two days.” This made Norm perk up.

“So what did you do? How did you fix things with her?” He asked, eager to hear the rest of the story.

“I went with her to your final ultrasound. Didn’t hold her hand or anything, but once we say you fully formed, she reached for my hand and said, ‘Norman, that’s what we’ll call him.’” His dad chuckled as he finished the story, and gained a sad look in his eyes.

“So what should I do?” Norm asked, finally taking a sip of his tea.

“If it were me, I’d go to the appointment. No matter how mad she is now, she’ll be worse if you miss that.” A timer dinged and as they looked for the source of the sound, they realized it was Norm’s pip-boy. Hs reminder for the appointment came up and he dashed out of the door without another word. Norm walked briskly to the doctor’s office, and tried not to run; no matter how much he wanted to.

By the time he got there, he saw her head dip into a room, that he somehow managed to catch. Norm saw her unzipping her vault suit, and rolling up her white shirt when he opened the door. He let out a breath that he did not realize he was holding and came over to help her.

“You came.” She stated, resting her hands on his face.

“I came.” He repeated, holding her body close to his in a crushing hug.

“I’m ready to be a dad.” Norm whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. It made her heart swell to hear those six little words come from his lips. The couple pulled away right as the doctor came in.

“Oh, hello Norm. Here to see the missus and the kiddo?” She spoke jovially, setting down her equipment to get started. Rubbing the cold gel on the mom-to-be’s belly, she held the wand against it to start looking inside. norm remained silent as he stared at the screen with a little black and white mage starting to emerge.

“There they are. That’s their leg, and arm. The beginnings of their head and organs and, oh wait. There’s their head. No, wait.” The doctor spent a minute looking intensely at the screen which freak the MacLean’s out just a little bit.

“Oh, okay. Not to worry.” She spoke finally.

“Why? What’s going on?” Mrs. Maclean was confused and concerned as she tried to sit up, only to be held down gently by her doctor.

“No, everything is okay. There are two heads. You’re having twins. Congratulations.” Once more, she held a happy tone as she went back to the screen. Yet again, Norm spoke without thinking it through.

“What did you say?”

[lipglossanon]

Am I Your One and Only Desire?

°•°———— ⚜️ ————°•°

Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (finale)

part i - An Open Invitation (To A Perfect Domination)

part ii - What You Do To Me (No One Knows)

part iii - I’m Not A Bad Man I’m Just Overwhelmed

Hello, hello 👋

Welcome to the finale of OG stepdad! I’m wrapping up these mini stories before moving on to new things! That’s not to say I won’t ever write for him again, but for now his “storyline” is complete.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, stepdad Leon, daddy kink, spit kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie

Title from Always by Saliva

°•°———— ⚜️ ————°•°

Your parents have been fighting for weeks now. Well, your mom and Leon. You’ve been busy with class work and trying to get an internship for the summer so it’s been just something happening in the background. But now, it seems your mom has issued her final ultimatum. 

“If you don’t come with me on this work trip, we’re through !”

You pause in the hallway, guiltily eavesdropping on their argument. Your mom practically shouted the last two words before an uncomfortable quiet settled in the aftermath. 

“Then I guess we’re through,” Leon’s dry tone makes your heart skip a beat. 

You hear a door slam in their room making you jump in place. Taking that as your cue to leave, you walk further down the hall and open your own bedroom door and step inside  at the same time someone comes out of the master. 

“Guess you heard that, hmm?” Leon gives you a tired smile, hair sticking up at odd angles like he’s been running his hands through it. 

Biting your bottom lip, you nod, “Does that mean you’re leaving?”

“Sooner or later,” he shrugs, walking until he’s in your doorway. 

His blue eyes narrow as they search your face, “Was thinking of moving closer to the city, already found a couple of places not far from work.”

You try to hide it, but you know he sees when your shoulders tense. He steps further into your room and closes the door. 

“Not ideal is it?” He pulls you into a hug, surprising you so much you forget to wrap your arms around him for a split second. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whisper into his chest, feeling as he squeezes you closer to him. 

He rubs your back for a moment before pulling you away. You sniffle and quickly wipe your eyes with the heels of your palm. 

“I won’t leave without saying goodbye,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead then the corners of each eye before pressing a soft, kiss to your lips. 

Leaving you with emotional whiplash, Leon turns and exits your room, shutting the door behind him. You listen as his footsteps fade away before flopping down onto your bed, tears gathering in your eyes. 

It seems rather silly to be so upset since it’s actually better news for you if they divorce. But now the doubt is starting to creep in, make you think that without being in Leon’s space that he’ll forget about you. Leave you behind along with your mom. You’re not in love with him, but you do like him a lot. 

He has shown you how empty your life was before he moved into it. Your mom is constantly traveling for work and your dad lives in another state and doesn’t really reach out to you unless it’s a holiday. Leon’s taken care of you in a way no one else has before and you hate that it’s being taken away. 

The sex is great, but it’s nice coming home and hanging out with him while making fun of whatever reality show he’s watching. Or the times he takes you out to grab coffee before heading to your favorite bookstore. He never presses for anything during those times even if you try to initiate. He always kisses you on the forehead with the promise he’s perfectly satisfied. More tears slip from your eyes as you lay in bed.  

For the rest of the night, you listen as your mom and Leon quietly argue amongst themselves with your mom yelling every now and then. When you wake up the next morning and go downstairs, you notice a lot of the little things that belong to Leon are gone, even his vehicle is gone from its usual parked spot outside the garage making you sad. 

Greeting your mom softly as you walk in the kitchen, she watches as you fix yourself a cup of tea. 

“He’s gone,” she bites out, anger still tinging her words. 

You turn and face her head on while the kettle heats up.

“I heard you two arguing last night,” you bite your lip, feeling off having this conversation with her, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” her shoulders roll back as she sighs, “I’m honestly just angry. We haven’t been getting along for months and I’m just done. He’s moved out and the papers are being filed today.”

“Oh,” your voice comes out steadier than you thought, “that’s kinda fast, right?”

Your mom laughs without any humor and turns to dump the rest of her drink down the sink, “It’s been a long time coming.”

The kettle goes off giving you the opportunity to turn away from her and busy yourself as she continues to talk to you. 

“I’m also going to be gone this weekend, another work conference,” she blows out a breath, “I’m actually running behind right now, but I wanted to see you before I left.”

You nod as you steep your tea, “Thanks.”

“Leon said he’d be by to finish packing up his office and to turn over his key to you,” her phone goes off, pulling your attention back to her when she answers. 

“Hang on— alright, I’m out of here, sweetie,” she smiles at you, “don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I’ll see you on Monday!”

With that, she breezes out of the kitchen and into the garage. You stand there, bare feet shifting on the cool kitchen floor as your tea cup steams on the counter while you listen to her drive off. The quiet settles on you heavily as you gaze unseeingly at your drink. 

You settle on the couch with your tea and mindlessly watch the news. Glancing at the time, you wonder what time Leon will actually be by to grab his stuff. You’ll be home all weekend so it’s not like you’ll miss him once he shows up. Heart fluttering, you sigh out loud. You hate waiting like this, nerves always getting the better of you. 

The jingling of keys wakes you with a start, not realizing you dozed off. Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you raise up in time to see Leon stepping into the living room. You offer him a small smile. 

“Hi.”

His jaw feathers before he sighs. 

“Hey,” he clears his throat, “is your mom here?”

Feeling disappointment, you shake your head, “She left this morning, said you’d be by to grab your stuff.”

“Yeah,” he trails off, eyes tracking down your body before skirting back up to your face, “wanna help me finish packing?”

Shrugging, you stand up from the couch, “Sure.”

He nods and turns, heading upstairs towards the master bedroom. Once upstairs, he holds his arm out to let you step into the room first. After he steps in behind you, he crowds your space until the back of your knees bump against the edge of the bed. 

“Gonna let me say goodbye?” He grins, fingers skating up your thigh to cup your pussy, “I’m going to miss more than your cute face, sweetheart.”

Arousal thrums in your veins and you nod eagerly, “Please.”

While he kisses you, he eases your body down onto the bed, hands running up your sides to grope your breasts through your flimsy tee shirt. He groans into your mouth as your nipples stiffen against his fingertips. Pulling away, he strips your clothes off until you're lying completely nude. 

“So sexy,” he murmurs, kissing you again as he lies on his side next to you, propping himself up on one arm while the other draws circles across your abdomen. 

“Want me to play with your cute pussy, sweetheart?” He nips at your jawline before biting your neck, “want daddy to tease that pudgy little clit til you’re soaking the sheets?”

“Yes, please, daddy,” you gasp as he sucks and bites the skin underneath your jaw. 

The hand on your abdomen glides down to run his fingers across your dripping slit. You whine as he finally teases across your clit with slow swipes of his fingertips. 

“So wet already,” he places kisses down your throat, “want my fingers in your needy pussy?”

”Uh huh,” you rock your hips trying to get him to press against your swollen bud more.

Without any warning, he plunges two fingers deep in your leaking hole, fluttering against the front of your cunt to rub against the spongy spot that makes you clamp down on the digits. He roughly fucks his fingers in and out of your pussy until you’re whining nonstop.

“Do you see this?” He growls in your ear, middle and ring fingers buried deep in your cunt while his thumb rubs circles on your clit. 

Your bleary eyes look down your naked body to watch as he scissors his fingers in your soaked hole. 

“This is my cute little pussy, sweetheart,” he bites your earlobe and you moan loudly. 

“Yeah, s’all yours,” you whine, fingers digging into his biceps. 

“Want me to give her some kisses?” He whispers, fucking his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy, letting the heel of his palm softly smack against your pudgy bud. 

“Oh, please,” you keen, eyelashes fluttering as he kisses your neck, “kiss my pussy.”

He groans and slips his fingers away before kissing a wet trail down to your breasts. Teasing each of your nipples with his teeth, he sucks the stiff buds until your back arches. With a chuckle, he continues to kiss his way down your stomach to the apex of your thighs. Sighing, he kisses the hood of your clit. 

“So sweet,” he rumbles low in his throat, “such a good girl.”

His pouty lips kiss your pudgy clit over and over, drooling a line of spit down onto your bud before running his tongue through your pussy lips to lap at your dripping hole. With a moan, your legs fall open further. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, dark blue eyes watching you from between your thighs, “such a sweet cunt.”

“Ohhh,” you whimper, hands tangling in Leon’s hair as he goes back down on you, tongue fluttering against your clit before sucking it into his hot mouth. He bites down gently and it sends an electric spark buzzing through your brain. 

“Please, feels so good,” you whine high in your throat. 

Groaning, he humps the mattress while he grinds his face against your cunt, tongue licking into your pussy eagerly. He rubs his nose across your clit as his tongue slides in and out of your slick hole, humming as you gush across his tongue with every slow thrust of the muscle. It doesn’t take much for him to make you forget everything except his mouth on your pussy.

The band of arousal in your abdomen winds tighter and tighter as he makes out with your pussy with sloppy enthusiasm. Spit and slick coats your inner thighs to the point it drips down your ass onto the sheets underneath.  His hands, which were resting gently on your hips, move down to the bends of your knees and hike your legs up over his shoulders. With the new angle, it feels like his tongue fucks into you even deeper, teeth pressing against your cunt in a way that has you rolling your hips against his face. 

Hearing the wet noises of his mouth on your cunt makes your nipples tighten and ache, leading you to bring your own hands up to cup your breasts to tweak the stiff peaks. 

“Mmm, yeah, play with those cute tits, baby,” he growls, moving up to suck on your clit softly, “pinch those puffy little nipples til it hurts.”

“Yesss,” you sigh, eyes fluttering as you pluck at your hard nipples with your index and thumb before rolling them between your fingers, “w’nna cum, please daddy.”

He sits back on his haunches and unbuttons his slacks, pulling them along with his underwear down to free his cock. A sigh of relief slips from him as he squeezes his thick cock. 

“Want you cumming on daddy’s dick, sweetheart,” he grins down at you, “stuff that little cunt til you’re nice and full.” 

“Oh fuck,” you mewl, hands moving forward to grasp at the air in front of him, “please, need you so bad, ‘m so empty, daddy.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, quickly undressing all the way and crawling back on top of you, boxing you in with his nude body.

His cock drags a sticky trail of precum up your thighs until the head rests below your belly button, cum pooling on your skin as his fat leaks and drips. Kissing you heatedly, he sucks your tongue before biting your bottom lip and pulling away. 

He braces his weight on one forearm as his other hand slips down between your bodies to grip the base of his cock. Slapping the tip against your pudgy clit, you whine as he rubs his cock through your soaked folds, smearing slick everywhere. 

He presses down further and lets his head dip in and out of your clenching heat until you’re rocking up into the motion, tempting him to just push inside your cunt. 

“Please, please, need it, need you to fuck me,” you whine, nails digging into his shoulders. 

“How can I say no to that?” He smirks, finally notching the head of his dick at your leaking hole. 

With a low groan, he thrusts forward, sliding inch by inch into your pussy until he bottoms out as your walls pulse and squeeze around his fat cock. 

“Oh that’s it, good girl, squeezing me so good,” he coos in your ear as he settles more of his weight down onto your body. 

“Daddy, daddy, please,” you choke out, legs wrapping around his waist, arching your body so he can fuck into you even deeper.

He pulls out and thrusts his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out again, heavy balls pressing against your ass. Your nails score a hot trail down his chest as he presses you down into the bed.

“Always such a perfect fit,” he moans, humping into your pussy faster, “little cunt made for my dick.”

Mouth dropping open to pull in gasping breaths as Leon fucks you deep, you rock your hips into his, “Feels good, Leon. Wanna cum for you.”

With a low rumbling groan in his throat, he grinds his dick across your g-spot until slick drips down his balls. You reach up to tangle your hands into his hair as he slowly ruts his cock halfway out of your pussy and slowly works it back inside your fluttering walls.

“You’re squeezing me so fucking tight, sweetheart,” he kisses the shell of your ear, “want daddy to breed your greedy hole?”

”Yes, yes,” you gasp, hips writhing, “breed my pussy, need it so bad.”

He chuckles and starts to rock more roughly against you, moving his lips to yours and licking into your mouth, tongue slipping inside to tease across your own.

“My good girl,” he says between kisses, “gonna miss you, baby.”

Your heart thuds painfully in your chest, pussy pulsing and gripping his cock tightly as you eagerly kiss him back. 

“I’m g’nna miss you, too,” you whimper between sloppy kisses, “gonna miss you, miss this.”

He leans back with a dark look in his eyes, “Yeah? Show me, open that slutty mouth of yours.”

Eyelashes fluttering, you loll your tongue out and whine loudly when he spits in your mouth. He smirks down at you and leans closer to spit straight into the back of your throat. After doing it a few more times, he moves back.

“Swallow.”

Your body shivers as you do as he says, mewling as he rocks his hips down, pelvis catching on your clit just right while his balls smack against your ass on every thrust. 

“I’m getting close,” you moan brokenly.

He picks up the pace, cock pistoning in and out of your pussy creating sloppy wet sounds that makes you clench down on him. 

“Squeeze me so I can breed this pretty pussy of yours, sweetheart. Let daddy fill you up,” he nips your bottom lip with a grin.

Clit throbbing with every brush of his pelvis, you squeeze down on his cock tighter and tighter as he grinds against your g-spot. Your legs tighten around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax overtakes your body. Thrashing and moaning, your pussy walls clench and flutter around his thick cock as your eyes roll back in your head.

”Fuck, gonna make me cum, such a good girl,” Leon huffs with a groan, “that’s it, let me breed this sweet cunt.”

A cut off moan interrupts his rambling. You feel as his cock throbs and kicks when he spills a hot load of cum deep in your cunt, pussy walls milking every drop from his heavy balls. 

“So good,” he pants, sloppily kissing your neck as he softly thrusts in your clenching heat, “your little pussy was made for this.”

You can only whine out nonsense as he pumps rope after rope of thick sticky cum in your fluttering hole, pelvis smacking against your clit and sending little shockwaves of overstimulation throughout your body. He finally pulls out with a groan, half hard cock shooting out another spurt of cum to coat your puffy mound and clit. With a moan, he rubs the thick jizz into your skin, smearing it until your slit’s sticky. 

He lays down next to you on the bed and you roll over to face him. 

“Got you all to myself this weekend too, huh?” He chuckles, “I’ll make sure to be out of here by Sunday if you’re good with that.”

Cunt pulsing at the thought of Leon staying with you all weekend, you nod, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Needless to say, Leon fucked you on every surface possible over the weekend. Starting in the master bedroom on Friday evening and finally ending on Sunday with a facial on the desk in his office. In between, you have some small talk about where he’s going to live as you pack up what little stuff of his still in the house. Neither of you talk about what this means for you both now that he’s your mom’s ex. When evening rolls around, he finally packs up his car as you stand outside the garage watching him organizing the trunk. Once he shuts it, the thud reverberates in your chest making you oddly misty eyed.

He steps up to you, ushering you into the garage so no nosy neighbors can see as he kisses you. 

“You have my number right?”

You nod, clearing your throat, “Yeah.”

He grins, “Good, text me later and we’ll meet up so I can show you my new place. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but it’s not far from your college.”

Your heartbeat ramps up making you feel giddy, “Really? I’d love to visit.”

A pink flush spreads out across his cheekbones, “It’s a date, then.”

Smiling brightly at him, you push up on your tiptoes to kiss him again.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

I hate myself for this but... sigh, I can't help it. At least this one is soft and not angsty

Aaron Hitch x Dad Male Reader

Hotch has been having trouble moving on from Haley (maybe divorce?) Despite it being 2 years. Garcia decides to talk him into going on a few blind dates, one of which is a friend of hers from an online RPG. Hotch is reluctant but agrees, trusting Garcia with her taste in friends.

When Hotch arrives at the small restaurant and stares hes there for a reservation that Garcia set up, he's lead to Reader already waiting at a table. Garvia failed to mention that Hotch's blind date was a man and so he's caught off guard. Through the date, it's obvious Hotch and Reader are awkward until Hotch mentions his son. As it turns out, Reader is a single dad as well after his fiance walked out

They bond over being parents and agree to meet up again. So they do, multiple times. They even set up little get togethers between the kids

Hiya, sorry this has take me so long (actually I'm sorry all of my requests are taking me so long aha) but I hope you enjoy it, it was a really cute request! :)

Description: What is says on the tin, really aha

You watch a man approach you and you know its him. Garcia knows your taste in men well and you have no doubt she would have ensured that the date she picked out for you would be perfect.

He approached you awkwardly, seeing that you were the only individual who was on their own. "Are you here for a blind date?" He asked, cheeks tinting pink.

"Yeah, I'm (Y/N), are you Aaron?"

The man, Aaron, nods. He's awkward, which makes you awkward. He sits down, "I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting a-"

"Man?"

"Yeah,"

"I see... We, er, we don't have to do this, if you don't want to-" You rush out, already standing up.

"No, no, it's okay," He said, giving a small smile, sitting in the chair opposite you. "So, how do you know Garcia?"

"We play the same RPG, but we started talking on the forums and then eventually met up," You nod.

"RPG?" Aaron tilted his head, "That's role playing game, isn't it?"

You nod, grinning, "Yeah." Man, he was just too cute.

He nods as well, with a small smile.

Another minute passed in awkward silence. "So... Garcia mentioned you had a son?" You asked.

Aaron nods, a small smile already painting his face, "Yeah, Jack. He's just turned six."

"Oh, wow, my son's five," You nodded.

"You have a son?" Aaron asked, eyes widening slightly.

"Yeah, Ethan," You grinned. "His favourite thing at the minute is cars,"

"Jack's the same," Aaron said with a small laugh, "Cars and trains,"

"See, Ethan's not hopped on the train trend just yet," You laugh, "He's definitely on the dinosaur trend though,"

"Jack's not gone through that phase just yet,"

"Oh, cars and dinosaurs are all Ethan talks about," You smile.

After that, the rest of the meeting (*cough* date *cough*) went rather well, the initial awkwardness has dissolved and the pair of you stayed out late, talking about anything and everything. He now knew that Ethan's mother had left when he was still a baby, and you knew about the nasty divorce with his ex-wife Haley. You had even arranged a second meeting (read: 'date - sort of') where Jack and Ethan could meet each other the following week.

It was next week before you knew it. Ethan was so excited, practically bouncing off the walls.

"Are they here yet?!" Ethan asked, running in again.

"Bud, I've told you, I'll let you know when they're here-" You said with a small laugh, getting cut off by the doorbell ringing. "And it looks like they're now here,"

"Wooo!" Ethan cheered. "I can't wait to meet them,"

Ethan babbled as he followed you to the front door. "I'm sure Jack's just as excited to meet you," You grin. You really hoped the pair of them got along, you thought as you opened the front door.

"Hi," You breathed, seeing Aaron (that polo shirt on him? Damn).

"Hi," He replied. You grinned slightly, seeing the tips of his ears go pink.

"Hi! I'm Ethan!"

"I'm Jack!" Jack exclaims, equally excited.

"You wanna go play? My dad got me some new cars!"

"I love cars!" You smile as Ethan grabs Jack's hand and they both run off to go and play.

You turn to Aaron, "That looked like it went well,"

[loosingmoreletters]

For the ask game and because I’m soooo curious about what you’ll do with this: best friends sibling au for wangxian

The way I needed a second to parse this prompt. It’s best friend’s sibling, right?

Wei Wuxian is smart, the kind of smart that meant you either went down in the history books for revolutionizing cultivation or died trying. He knows that most people assume he’s going to die trying in the attempt. He’s fairly sure his mother has had his eulogy written since he was ten and his father started picking out coffins when he hit thirteen.

It’s whatever, Wei Wuxian’s got a goal in life, and he won’t stop accelerating until he reaches it.

Everyone knows it, and he supposes that’s the reason he got introduced to Lan Xichen at the itty-bitty age of five. Well, introduced, is a rather generous way to say his mom grabbed Lan Xichen and plopped him in front of Wei Wuxian in a sort of “behold, a fellow child” movement, mortifying everyone else in attendance, particularly Uncle Lan.

Wei Wuxian struggled to get along with his agemates, outpacing them easily, and Lan Xichen apparently needed someone to poke fun at him before he turned into a total rock. They had an odd give and take relationship, and not just because Wei Wuxian’s parents were independent cultivators and homeschooled him all over the world.

At sixteen, Wei Wuxian knew that Lan Xichen latched on to him because of the end result of a messy divorce. Sects, even in this day and age, didn’t particularly condone divorce. Separation tended to be the end all, which was the reason why they never got to see Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli on the weekends.

But Lan Xichen’s parents had gone through a divorce and Gusu Lan got to keep their sect heir and Lan Xichen’s mom her youngest. She’d wanted custody of both children, but the sects wouldn’t ever allow that.

And all of this culminated in Wei Wuxian accompanying Lan Xichen to the airport to pick said younger brother up. Well, that and the broken arm. Cultivation didn’t revolutionize itself and Wei Wuxian suspected that if he’d spent another hour in the library, Uncle Lan would’ve thrown him out himself.

Lan Wangji, the brother to be picked up and taken to Gusu for the first time in ten years, was sixteen, like Wei Wuxian himself, but that didn’t mean much given how much better Wei Wuxian did around older peers.

And apparently he looked a lot like Lan Xichen—

Oh.

“Well, that was a fucking lie,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Xichen the moment he spotted what could only be Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian supposed that at first glance, Lan Wangji looked a lot like Lan Xichen to someone who’d seen Lan Xichen out of sect robes, but a simple comparison didn’t measure up.

“You never told me your brother was hot,” Wei Wuxian hissed. “How have I known you for two thirds of my life and never known your brother was hot?”

“I’ve shown you photos,” Lan Xichen pointed out.

Well, yeah, but Wei Wuxian hadn’t wanted to see them because he’d been dragged to the Cloud Recesses by his mother only to be told that Lan Xichen would be gone for the summer, visiting his brother and mother. And the Lan Wangji in those pictures had been inherently ugly by virtue of stealing Wei Wuxian’s best friend.

This Lan Wangji was not.

“Does Uncle Lan know your brother has an undercut?”

Holy shit, Wei Wuxian needed to touch Lan Wangji’s head so badly. Squish his face between his hands and bite his lips.

“No,” Lan Xichen said and waved at the Hottest Man Alive, trademark pending. “Would you do me the favor and tell him?”

Wei Wuxian turned to his best friend and snorted. “I love you, but if I piss of Uncle Lan one more time, he’s banning me from the Cloud Reccesses too.”

“Thought so.”

[deadpool15]

Overshadowed Ch.1

"Hey, look at me. I don't expect you to the most perfect fucking man. There is no such thing. You have scars from the stuff you've been through. It's understandable. I understand you, si-o. I don't want you to change your plans or anything unless you truly want that. I won't expect anything from you except to be honest with me." I slowly clasp my hands upon his face, holding him with my gentle touch to let him know I wouldn't hurt him. After all he has been through, I want him to know I'm the last person who would want to hurt him. "I want you to trust me, I know I must earn your trust, and I will do everything in my power to show you how much I care for you. No more pain, ok? I'm not leaving."

I needed him. For the first time in my life, I had felt like I was wanted, loved. This feeling couldn't be replaced by anything my mother had gifted me over the years to make up for her lack of parenting. Though, I knew si-o had never felt such love either. He was used to pain and resentment. I wanted to be the one who showed him there was more to life than those things. I didn't want to change him. Sure, he had flaws and issues, but I wanted to embrace all of them. They were a part of him, making him who he is today. My father once told me he adorned the villains in fairy tales. Younger me had questioned that for a long time, though know I see it. A hero would sacrifice you for the sake of the world as if you meant nothing. One casualty means nothing compared to thousands, yet a villain would sacrifice the entire world for you. Thinking more about it, why was the villain deemed bad in reality? The hero was selfish, thinking one could have it all with no consequences.

Imagine someone's love for you to be so passionate and devoted that they would sacrifice everything for you without a second thought. I had never seen a love story in real life. My parents went divorced because my mother prioritized work over her family and because my older sister had gone missing in a foreign country. They made it seem like their love died, though I always felt like my father held more love for my mother. My mother cared for nothing but money and having a daughter. She had two, one that possessed the strength of the many generations before her, then there was me. I was adopted at age 2. I can't remember a thing about my biological parents, but I had an amazing relationship with my father. He was the one who loved all of his children equally despite only the three of us having superpowers. In my mother's eyes there was only nam-soon.

Completely neglected by her my entire life. I was invisible, one would say. Whenever she missed a dance rehearsal or important event in my life, she loved to buy gifts. Overly priced gifts, hoping it would make 4 year old me forget that mommy hadn't bothered to show up again because of work. Money was everything to her, and I wasn't. I grew envious of my sister. Of course, I missed her while she was gone, but would it be an evil thing to say a small sick part of me was happy, thinking mother would have no choice but to pay attention to me. I was wrong. Nam-soon this, nam-soon that. Hosting strength competitions and constantly fixing her favorite dishes at dinner. I hated myself, why couldn't I be happy she was back? Why was I so jealous of her? And why can't I make my mom love me?

When I met si-o, all that changed. I had shown up to give nam-soon her lunch for the day. She had been undercover working with some cop she liked, and it was obvious he liked her as well. Now no one in the public knew of me, after nam-soon went missing our parents thought it would be best to shield the world from us. I was known as the spoiled rich daughter of some famous ceo. No one bothered to ask who? I stumbled upon this man, taller than me. Bumping into his chest, which was as far as my head could reach, even in heels. He was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I wanted him to be mine.

Chapter 1: Overshadowed

Chapter 2: To be loved

Chapter 3: You and me

Chapter 4: Second place

Chapter 5: Love is hard

Chapter 6: No matter what

Baily Bass(oc)- Danny

Byeonwooseok-Ryu-si

Other characters are their respective characters.

[knightyoomyoui]

TWICE: ANTHOLOGY OF HORROR ONE-SHOTS | "Auntie's Reminiscence" ft. NAYEON

Welcome to my new book that consists of one-shots under horror genre that features every TWICE members! If you are a ONCE and a fan of horror who loves to get spooked, give this series a try! Thank you and enjoy reading!

STORY #1: "Auntie's Reminiscence" ft. Im Nayeon

NOTE: Inspired from true events.

Im Nayeon joins along with her family to pay a visit on her Auntie Eunji’s home. She was willing to go for two reasons: one is because its their group’s vacation after taking a rest from both in their concert tour and current mini-album promotions. The second thing is simply because she cherish her Auntie and the place their about to go through with all her heart.

Her Auntie Eunji’s house in Incheon was her childhood home, and Auntie Eunji along with her husband and Nayeon’s Uncle Hajoon were the ones who stood up as Nayeon’s second parents and family when her mother had to work often after she and her father got divorced. The two had children, a perfect replacement to be the sibling figure for an only child like Nayeon.

That’s one of the reasons why her childhood wasn’t bad at all. She still has another family to grow up and to enjoy with. Sadly, not everything last long when Nayeon had to move back with her parents to Seoul after she got accepted to an Arts School there to study. 

It’s been years since she last saw her Auntie Eunji and also her Uncle Hajoon. Although, sadly… despite how Nayeon was able to have another opportunity to catch up the lost times with her beloved auntie, it’s the opposite to tell for her uncle.

Her Uncle Hajoon passed away from diabetes months ago, and what’s worse was that she wasn’t able to attend the funeral because she was in the States preparing for their tour there at that time. She instead sent her deepest condolences to her family and especially to her Auntie Eunji who must be suffering the most.

The relationship between the two can be described as very strong and truly dedicated. Their love story was one of the best stories Nayeon has ever heard, and that was also the one who encouraged and put Nayeon into curiosity to know what is true love. No offense to her father and mother, but her young mimd grew up to idolize more the other couple.

She was just like among her family that mourned a lot for her Uncle Hajoon’s untimely passing, but it was undeniable that her Auntie Eunji was the one who suffered the most. Every day and night it would not be a circumstance that she won’t gonna cry in despair and grief realizing that her beloved husband will no longer be in her side forever.

Nayeon’s family reported to her that they also tried to console Auntie Eunji but it was then no effect for the grieving lady. Without any other choice, due to the struggle they had to call for a psychiatrist to help Auntie Eunji atleast have a progress on accepting the death of Hajoon.

And that’s what she’s currently experiencing, and along the days came where Nayeon is staying in her childhood home. She would then take a peek on her Auntie’s bedroom, and there she was, crying while either curled down on the bed or sitting while holding one of Hajoon’s things.

“Poor Auntie. I really wish she would finally let go of the pain and accept that Uncle’s truly gone. It may be hard for her but it’s the only way.” Nayeon whispered to herself while pouting at the sight of her devastated auntie.

But then one day, Nayeon’s wish seemed to be granted when while their family and relatives are having a lunch, her Auntie Eunji suddenly came down from her room and joined the meal, surprising every person present in the table. They know that it puts them into hard time urging her to join them for food.

“Eunji! Finally you decided to come eat with us!” Nayeon’s mother and the older sister of Eunji, Seoyeon, gladly welcomed her as she watched her approach the table. “How are you doing?”

“Oh you can’t believe what just happened last night!” Eunji said with an excited tone. Nayeon just stared at her Auntie having a strange enthusiasm right now which is hugely contrast to her daily shallow mood she has been always observing from her.

“What is it?”

She sat on the table and let one of her sons to pick some food and place it on her plate. “Hajoon came to see me last night!”

Nayeon spitted the water she was drinking after hearing those ridiculous words. Did she heard it right? It must be the same question that everyone sharing in the room with her right now would ask too.

How was it possible to have someone pay you a visit when… that person has been recently passed away? Nayeon just watched her Auntie Eunji in her wide grin after saying it.

“W-what did you just say?” Seoyeon asked. Everyone in the room was exchanging glances at each other and muttering something that is probably judging Eunji right now except for Nayeon who remained speechless. “How? W-what did he do?”

“He said he misses me that’s why he wanted to spend some more time with me by helping me get to sleep!”

Chills starting to take over in their skin until Nayeon’s mother stopped this immediately by acting very glad for her mentally unstable sister and some attempts to change the topic. Once she was done eating and fled the room, everyone sighed in relief and started to buzz out their reactions of what just happened.

Seoyeon then tried to convince everyone that it’s probably just a pleasant dream of Eunji in order to cope with the loss, exactly the same thing as what Nayeon is trying to convince herself to believe in. However, it didn’t take too long for another scenarios to come just to disprove and scrap their claims.

Days passes by, and more stories of her Aunt Eunji talking about her private times with Hajoon during the night continues for Nayeon to hear. She tries so hard to wear this mask of disguise that she’s happy for her Aunt being the same old self as she is, but deep down Nayeon is so conflicted at what she truly feels for her Auntie’s condition.

“Mom, this isn’t right. Something’s wrong with Auntie now.” Nayeon talks with her mom while cleaning the living room. “At first I would like to think that she’s imagining things but… the more she speaks about Uncle Hajoon makes it starting to hear that…”

“Nayeon, your Uncle Hajoon is dead. It’s not possible.” Seoyeon quickly cuts off her daughter’s words. “Ghosts may be real yet she probably try to plaster its image as her husband just so she can think that she was still not alone and she still has the man she loves with her. It’s as if she’s finding way to forget the tragedy that happened to her.”

“But mom… it wasn’t doing anything good at Auntie. Her mind is being corrupted with her thoughts, the people here are starting to get scared at her stories, including me.” Nayeon defended. “I just want to see Auntie happy, but in the right way. This has to stop and we have to do something about it before its too late.”

Seoyeon sighs and slowly nods at her wise daughter. “Fine, I’ll give it one more try. She’s my sister, I have to help when she still needs it even if she doesn’t mind it.”

Nayeon’s encounter later that night had her loose her composure and completely disregarded the convincing that her Auntie is still hallucinating manifested from the reminiscence of happy memories she’s doing to remember Hajoon.

She was walking through her room when she noticed that there are footsteps exiting on her Auntie Eunji’s room leading to the stairways that directs to the rooftop. It was very dark there and Nayeon wanted to follow it but her examining at the footsteps was enough for her to feel the creeps.

The footsteps are covered in mud, and it’s size is large. Nayeon hurried rushed down on the living room to stay with her cousins and wait for them to return back in their rooms to sleep.

That’s not where it ends though, Nayeon still has to have one more experience that she thinks it’s definitely one of the worst memories she ever had in her life. 

As she was about to tell her Auntie Eunji to sleep after her loud laughs were echoing through the ground floor, Nayeon slowly checks out the barely shut door through its gap. It was dark, and Nayeon was about to knock when while she was opening the door, she couldn’t fathom what she’s witnessing in her naked eyes.

A tall skinny figure was kneeling beside of her Auntie Eunji who is laughing out loud. Nayeon couldn’t even describe what she’s looking at but one thing’s for certain: it’s inhuman.

In her panic, Nayeon hurriedly clicked the switch to turn the lights on, the figure was filed to be captured though as it disappeared from thin air. She shouted to call her helpless aunt. “AUNTIE!”

She was walking towards the side of the bed when her Auntie Eunji sat up and looked at her with ecstatic expression. She was smiling from ear to ear today.

“ Nayeon! You saw him, right? You saw your Uncle Hajoon, but sadly he said he has to go for now.” Her Auntie Eunji said. Nayeon just scoffed and shivered at the grip of her auntie in her arms.

“Don’t worry, dear. Your Uncle Hajoon says he’s gonna check for you somet-”

“STOOOOPPPP!!! JUST STOP IT PLEASE!” Nayeon suddenly screamed in mercy, making her Auntie scared and confused at the same time. “YOU’RE MAKING ME SCARED, AUNTIE! UNCLE HAJOON IS ALREADY DEAD, CAN’T YOU JUST MOVE ON ALREADY? HE’S NOT COMING BACK!”

“What’s going on here?” Her mother Seoyon along with boys came by at the room to check up on Nayeon after hearing her plead. 

“How can you say something like that? You saw him too, Nayeon. Hajoon is alive and he said he’s staying with us. He did that for me!”

Nayeon couldn’t contain anymore the fear creeping up inside of her. She started to cry and hug her mother, while the rest just watched their Auntie Eunji still daydreaming about the times she and her husband used to share.

After recovering from her emotions, Nayeon tried to narrate what she just observed in Eunji’s room. Unfortunately, none of her mothers, relatives or her cousins seems to believe what she’s saying because they stand for the side that Nayeon is just being sucked up by her Auntie Eunji’s rare delusions.

She still tries to explore what could be the identity of that mysterious figure that she witnessed last night that distracts her really bad. Having it repeating inside her head was giving her massive discomfort.

Despite defending and in denial at Eunji’s stories, it doesn’t mean that they are tolerating it. They still want her old self to return and no more sink herself down from agony because it also affects them emotionally.

Nayeon and her family continues to search for ways to assist her Auntie Eunji but to no avail. She can admit that its beginning to make her lose her hope and feel pity a lot for her sake.

Her stress came to an end… but in a negative note when a month later, they watched their Auntie Eunji came out of the bathroom and proclaims “I’m pregnant, everyone! I’m having a baby with Hajoon!” while raising her pregnancy test.

Nayeon’s eyes largened in a mixture of terror, confusion, and shock at the announcement of her Auntie Eunji. Everything they have thought to be impossible seemed nonsense anymore because… they don’t even know what they should suppose to do about it in order to fix Eunji.

When she gave birth to her baby 9 months later, the doctors slowly handed it to Eunji. As she stares at the features of her son, there’s a part that she acknowleged initially after it piqued her interest.

“He has his father’s eyes” says Eunji as she continues to rock her baby on her arms. Her family, including the doctors, nurses, were all viewing from the door as they watch the wholesome moment of the pair while both horrified and concerned.

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

NOTE: This story is inspired from a Filipino Spooktober 2023 entry by MilkyClear titled "Tito and Tita / Uncle And Auntie" and from the 1968 psychological horror classic film "Rosemary's Baby".