#she tried to get back there and when she was her son was all drugged up or smth and the receptionist kept telling her everything was fine

[fallinginvictus]

do you have any wips at all for the time loop au? 🙏🙏

WIP Wednesday Andrew & Aaron Time Loop AU

I haven't had time to write lately so I only have a tiny little bit of the first part of chapter 3 and I'm not actually sure that's how it's going to stay when I actually post the whole chapter but I'll post anyways.

part one

part two

tw: character death, suicide, mention of drug abuse, Tilda, suicidal thoughts

“You're a parasite,” his mother had told him once when he was five, her head resting on the couch, her black eyes staring at the ceiling, her clouded mind lost in the high. “You suck everything out of me and then still expect me to give you more of my love.”

Aaron stood there for a second, his puffy little hands holding tightly onto the drawing he had been trying to show her, the mother he had drawn staring lovingly at him, the mother in real life taking a puff of her cigarette, her eyes never leaving the ceiling, never looking at her son.

“I just wanted to give you the gift that I made you,” he tried to defend himself with a pout on his lips, hoping his mother would want to look at it, look at him. Hoping she would smile and thank him for his thoughtfulness, for his kindness. Hoping she would acknowledge his existence.

“I just wanted,” his mother repeated mockingly, grey smoke slithering out of her lips. “That's all you do, Aaron. You want and you want and you want and you never once think about how much you take from people. As long as you get what you want you are willing to suck me dry.”

“I-I wasn't asking to take anything,” he said softly, tears pooling in his eyes. “I just wanted to give you a gift to make you happy.”

At those words his mother's gaze finally turned towards Aaron, her black eyes looking straight through him.

“To make me happy?” she scoffed before extending her long, pale fingers towards him. “Show me then.”

Aaron hesitated for a second, his hold on his precious drawing getting tighter, the paper wrinkling in his hands.

“Come on now,” his mother tilted her head, a grin painted on her thin lips, her coral-red lipstick a little smudged. “You wanted to show me my gift, so show me my gift.”

Aaron stepped forward, a spark of hope lighting inside of his chest, the drumming of his own heart echoing in his ears, a little smile forming on his lips as he carefully handed the drawing to his mum. He had worked on it for hours that morning while she was busy getting high, he had picked his best colours and tried his hardest to stay inside the lines. It was a drawing of his mum and Aaron holding hands, big and happy smiles drawn on their faces, colourful butterflies were dancing all around them and a big yellow sun was shining on the top-right corner of the page.

“This is me and you,” he said as he shily pointed towards the two stick figures on the paper and then he placed a kiss on her cheek, his soft lips meeting the hardness of her cheekbone, his warm hands gently holding onto her cold shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“You made this just for me,” she said, arching a perfectly trimmed brow.

“For my mummy,” he nodded while smiling at her. “A gift to make you happy.”

“Oh, to make me happy you say?” she chuckled. Her tone made Aaron take two steps back and he stumbled a little when his naked feet got tangled in the black carpet. His mother's eyes were cold, the black of her pupils drowning the light brown of her eyes, none of the softness that he sometimes saw in them was visible.

“Yes I-”

“So you didn't give it to me so that I could thank you and tell you how good you are?”

Aaron didn't reply. He hadn't made her the drawing to get compliments but a part of him had still hoped for them, had hoped to hear nice words and receive warm smiles. Had hoped for warmth and love, for attention.

“See Aaron?” she said, her eyes burning holes into his skin. “You pretend to be such a lovely boy who only wants to please others but you can't fool me, I'm your mother. I know you like nobody else does. I put up with it because I love you, but no one else other than me will ever be able to put up with your selfish behaviour, with your endless needs, with your wanting and taking. I can see right through you.”

☆☆

As he lays on his unmade bed, the darkness of his room engulfing his body and his mind, Aaron finally feels light and free, the weight of the sky no longer resting on his shoulders, the cloud of darkness that had for so long engulfed his lungs finally dissipating.

He stays there for a while, staring at the darkness, searching for a crack in his heart, an ounce of doubt in his blood, regret in his mind. He searches thoroughly and critically, every thought gets analysed and pulled apart, every emotion gets dissected and categorised, and only when he's sure that nothing at all has been overlooked he finally gets out of bed, ready to face the final day of his life.

He takes longer than usual in the shower, letting the hot streams of water untangle his muscles, warm his bones. He uses all of his shampoo and conditioner, until there is not one drop left inside the bottles. He lets the water wash over him until it starts to turn cold, until there is no hot water left at all. When he finally steps out of the shower, condensation has filled the air and all of the glass surfaces and mirrors are fogged over. Aaron prefers it that way, he doesn't want to look at his face, doesn't want the reminder of what he's leaving behind. Of who he's leaving behind.

When he looks at his phone it's thirty-two minutes past seven in the morning and Aaron's heart stops beating for a few seconds: Andrew had called him five times.

A few seconds later it rings again, the phone vibrating in his hand as the ringtone fills the air, covering the sound of his now racing heart.

“What? Is something wrong?” Aaron asks as soon as he picks up the phone, worry crawling under his skin and spreading throughout his body, rooting him to the ground. Andrew would never call him of his own free will, he would never contact him unless something had gone terribly wrong.

“Are you still clean?” is what Andrew says from the other side of the line, his voice sounding strange, strained.

“What?” Aaron's blood turns into ice, freezing his veins. His thoughts drift towards the hospital's supply room, towards what he knows will take place that afternoon. For a second, for a naive and stupid second, Aaron feels touched and warmth tries to melt his frozen veins: maybe Andrew still cares for him, he thinks, maybe he still wants for Aaron to be safe.

“Just answer. Are you still clean?”

“Yes, I am. Almost 10 years.”

“Do you feel like using again?” The question feels like a trick, a trap.

“No,” he says and smiles a little: he doesn't feel like using again but it doesn't mean he won't.

“Good. Don't,” Andrew says before hanging up the phone.

Once Andrew's voice is gone and only silence can be heard in his empty house, Aaron feels hollow again. He wants to call his brother back, to hear him talk about his day, his week, his life; he wants to tell him about his annoying neighbour and his stupid little dog that barks all day and night and won't let Aaron rest; he wants to go to a café and eat three different types of cakes and discuss with him which one is better; he wants Andrew to trust him and confide in him; he wants to confess his pain and tell Andrew that there is a tiredness in him that won't ever leave him, that drags him down. He wants Andrew to burst through his door and save him. He wants and wants and wants and he hates his mother for being right: he's a parasite that will never be satisfied. Aaron won't suck Andrew and Nicky dry like he did with his mother.

☆☆

When he was thirteen, Aaron discovered that he had a brother, a twin, and something that he thought had long been lost sparked in chest again after years of laying dormant between his ribs: hope.

The whole night he paced around his bedroom, up and down and down and up, his whole body buzzing with that long forgotten feeling, thoughts getting tangled in his brain as he tried to organise them, to make sense of them.

He had a twin brother.

He stood in front of the broken and dirty floor-length mirror at the side of his room and stared at himself for what felt like hours but couldn't have been more than a few minutes: in front of him stood his reflection, dark circles under his eyes, hollowed-out cheeks and sharp cheekbones, rosey lips and messy blond hair. Soon enough there wouldn't just be a mindless reflection standing in front of him, but a real-life human with feelings and thoughts, a brother that looked just like him, a twin that had once been part of him, with whom he had shared the first nine months of his life.

He walked towards his desk and ripped a page from his chemistry notebook. He stared at it for a while, thinking about what he should write. He knew he was an unlovable child, he knew his personality was unlikeable and his mere presence exhausting; he wasn't friendly and he wasn't funny, he was neither sweet nor cute and he had never once been good at making friends, but he was desperate, the need to make a good first impression was burnings in his veins.

He picked up a black-ink pen. He had stolen it from one of his classmates, it was new and expensive, the gel ink rich and deep.

Five different times he began to write his letter and five different times he ripped out the page, his hands shaking, his breaths getting erratic. Aaron had never been a writer, had never liked reading, had never cared about literature, often falling asleep during Mr. Jackson lessons and now he could do nothing but curse at himself for such oversight: he didn't want his brother to think of him as an illiterate idiot who couldn't string two sentences together.

Aaron had never felt more dumb than he did on that Thursday evening as he tried his best to present himself as someone that Andrew could love, someone that was worthy of love.

☆☆

“You look happy today Doctor Minyard,” is the first thing he hears when he walks in front of the nurses station. “Did something good happen?”

Aaron smiles at Nurse Mary, “Just a good day,” he shrugs. Maybe it is a lie or maybe it isn't, Aaron isn't sure anymore.

The day passes slowly and then all at once, a strange feeling buzzing under his skin, electricity licking up his veins. He wonders if it's anticipation or dread, joy or sadness. He wonders if maybe it's a mixture of every emotion that he has ever felt throughout his life. It had been so long since he had felt so much and so strongly; it had been so long since he had felt something other than emptiness and loneliness for a prolonged period of time. He can't decide whether he enjoys the feeling or if he despises it.

He feels guilty as he walks towards the supply room: all around him are those afflicted by unimaginable sicknesses and pains and every day and every night they fight as hard they can to keep their lives: they hold on tightly onto a thin rope that is on the brink of snapping, their knuckles white, their hands bloody, their muscles aching from the strain. And here Aaron is, forfeiting his life as if it means nothing.

The keypad beeps four times, short and loud, and then a third time as the door opens. Aaron takes a deep breath as he steps inside and closes the door behind himself, the dim light inside the small room casting shadows on his face, the stale air making him feel as if he's going to suffocate at any moment. There's a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and a slight shake overtakes his hands as he tightly grips the glass vial. He stops for a second as the syringe sinks into the grey rubber stopper, his laboured breaths the only sound inside the quiet room.

There is a second after Aaron sinks the syringe in his body where flashes of Nicky's warm smile and Andrew's concerned face dance behind his eyelids, a moment where he could change his mind, put the syringe away and walk out of that room alive. But the faces disappear as quickly as they had appeared, smothered by the knowledge that he would only suck them dry, that his wants and needs would only ever hurt them. No matter how hard he tries to keep his wants sealed inside of his chest, beneath his ribs, Aaron knows that they would always find a way to escape. He's a parasite, his existence would only ever bring pain to those around him.

He pushes the morphine in his veins.

That morning he had told Andrew that he didn't feel like using again and while it had been true it hadn't been the full truth. Aaron had long since learnt that a drug addict could never stop being a drug addict. He could get clean and he could stay clean, but the addiction would never fully leave him, a part of him would always crave the drugs, the high, like a broken bone that had never healed quite right and would ache when it rained and when it snowed.

When the morphine finally makes its home in his veins, Aaron welcomes her like an old friend. He lets himself feel the euphoria as it rushes through his body and down his veins, as it reaches his every cell. His body goes limp and he slumps against the wall, the syringe slipping from his fingers. Aaron had forgotten what happiness felt like but as he lays on the snow-white hospital tiles, he thinks he has finally found it again. Maybe drugs, he ponders, had been his only real friends.

His brain goes numb after a while, a dense fog making its way inside of his mind, clouding his thoughts, blurring his vision. His body feels heavy and he lets it fall to the ground, the sound of his head forcefully hitting the ground echoing inside of the silent room. Aaron doesn't even notice. Nothing hurts anymore, the constant and unbearable ache that is his loneliness now hidden inside of the dense fog that is clouding his brain.

Why couldn't you make me just a little lovable, Aaron asks God as he falls into darkness. Why do I always have to be alone?

[charliemwrites]

There are men across the street.

The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.

But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.

You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.

You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.

Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.

She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.

It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.

The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.

You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.

You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.

The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.

“Excuse.”

You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.

What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.

“Hi,” you say, straightening.

He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.

“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.

You blink, surprised and confused.

He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.

But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.

“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”

The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.

Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.

“This is Guy.”

You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.

“Guy?” he asks.

“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”

You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.

“He is a little guy,” the man muses.

Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.

“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.

The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.

“What are their names?”

You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”

A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.

“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”

You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”

“Yes, the short one.”

You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.

“Does he know you call him that?”

“Not if you don’t tell him.”

You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.

Someone’s at the door.

You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.

Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.

You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.

You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.

“Morning,” you chime.

“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.

“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”

He grunts. “Work.”

And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.

“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”

“No.”

You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.

“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”

You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.

You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”

He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”

Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.

“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.

“So! The truck - when will it be here?”

“Noon.”

“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.

You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.

The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.

You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.

You blink and abandon the dishes for later.

The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.

You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.

You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?

“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.

You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.

You yawn. “Mhmm.”

He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.

“It is late.”

“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.

“The sun is up.”

“So what?”

He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.

“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”

You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”

Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”

Well shit.

Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.

Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.

Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.

You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.

At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.

It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.

“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”

His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.

“The cat comes too.”

Cat?

You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.

He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.

There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.

You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.

The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.

The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.

Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.

“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.

“Why?” he asks.

You shrug. “To be nice.”

He stares. You blink back.

“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”

Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.

To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.

“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”

The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.

“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.

That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.

“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”

He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.

“Nikto,” he rasps finally.

You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.

“You,” Krueger says.

You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”

“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.

“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”

He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.

“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.

“No problem,” you answer, smiling.

Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)

“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”

“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.

“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.

“We will handle it,” Krueger says.

“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”

You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.

“Huh,” you say, surprised.

Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”

You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”

That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.

“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.

Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.

“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.

Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.

Next

Masterlist

[fatehbaz]

Good question:

In the United States, many jails and prisons can and will charge you money for every single night that you spend imprisoned, for the entire duration of your incarceration, as if you were being billed for staying at a hotel. Even if you are incarcerated for years. Adding up to tens of thousands of dollars. What happens when you’re released?

In response to this:

---

So.

You’re getting charged, like, ten dollars every time you even submit a request form to possibly be seen by a doctor or dentist.

You’re getting charged maybe five dollars for ten minutes on the phone.

Any time a friend or family tries to send you like five dollars so that you can buy some toothpaste or lotion, or maybe a snack from the commissary since you’re diabetic and the “meals” have left you malnourished, maybe half of that money gets taken as a “service fee” by the corporate contractor that the prison uses to manage your pre-paid debit card. So you’re already losing money every day just by being there.

What happens if you can’t pay?

In some places, after serving just a couple of years for drugs charges, almost 20 years after being released, the state can still hunt you down for over $80,000 that you “owe” as if it were a per-night room-and-board accommodations charge, like this recent highly-publicized case in Connecticut:

Excerpt:

Two decades after her release from prison, [TB] feels she is still being punished. When her mother died two years ago, the state of Connecticut put a lien on the Stamford home she and her siblings inherited. It said she owed $83,762 to cover the cost of her 2 1/2 year imprisonment for drug crimes. [...] “I’m about to be homeless,” said [TB], 58, who in March [2022] became the lead plaintiff in a lawsuit challenging the state law that charges prisoners $249 a day for the cost of their incarceration. [...] All but two states have so-called “pay-to-stay” laws that make prisoners pay for their time behind bars [...]. Critics say it’s an unfair second penalty that hinders rehabilitation by putting former inmates in debt for life. Efforts have been underway in some places to scale back or eliminate such policies. Two states — Illinois and New Hampshire — have repealed their laws since 2019. [...] Pay-to-stay laws were put into place in many areas during the tough-on-crime era of the 1980s and ’90s, said Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology at University of Southern California who is leading a study of the practice. [...] Connecticut used to collect prison debt by attaching an automatic lien to every inmate, claiming half of any financial windfall they might receive for up to 20 years after they are released from prison [...].

Text by: Pat Eaton-Robb. “At $249 per day, prison stays leave ex-inmates deep in debt.” AP News / The Associated Press. 27 August 2022.

---

---

Look at this:

To help her son, Cindy started depositing between $50 to $100 a week into Matthew’s account, money he could use to buy food from the prison commissary, such as packaged ramen noodles, cookies, or peanut butter and jelly to make sandwiches. Cindy said sending that money wasn’t necessarily an expense she could afford. “No one can,” she said. So far in the past month, she estimates she sent Matthew close to $300. But in reality, he only received half of that amount. The balance goes straight to the prison to pay off the $1,000 in “rent” that the prison charged Matthew for his prior incarceration. [...] A PA Post examination of six county budgets (Crawford, Dauphin, Lebanon, Lehigh, Venango and Indiana) showed that those counties’ prisons have collected more than $15 million from inmates — almost half is for daily room and board fees that are meant to cover at least a portion of the costs with housing and food. Prisoners who don’t work are still expected to pay. If they don’t, their bills are sent to collections agencies, which can report the debts to credit bureaus. [...] Between 2014 and 2017, the Indiana County Prison — which has an average inmate population of 87 people — collected nearly $3 million from its prisoners. In the past five years, Lebanon’s jail collected just over $2 million in housing and processing fees.

Text by: Joseph Darius Jaafari. “Paying rent to your jailers: Inmates are billed millions of dollars for their stays in Pa. prisons.” WHYY (PBS). 10 December 2019. Originally published at PA Post.

---

Pay-to-stay, the practice of charging people to pay for their own jail or prison confinement, is being enforced unfairly by using criminal, civil and administrative law, according to a new Rutgers University-New Brunswick led study. The study [...] finds that charging pay-to-stay fees is triggered by criminal justice contact but possible due to the co-opting of civil and administrative institutions, like social service agencies and state treasuries that oversee benefits, which are outside the realm of criminal justice. “A person can be charged $20 to $80 a day for their incarceration,” said author Brittany Friedman, an assistant professor of sociology and a faculty affiliate of Rutgers' criminal justice program. “That per diem rate can lead to hundreds of thousands of dollars in fees when a person gets out of prison. To recoup fees, states use civil means such as lawsuits and wage garnishment against currently and formerly incarcerated people, and regularly use administrative means such as seizing employment pensions, tax refunds and public benefits to satisfy the debt.” [...] Civil penalties are enacted on family members if the defendant cannot pay and in states such as Florida, Nevada and Idaho can occur even after the original defendant is deceased. [...]

Text by: Megan Schumann. “States Unfairly Burdening Incarcerated People With “Pay-to-Stay” Fees.” Rutgers press release. 20 November 2020.

---

So, to pay for your own imprisonment, states can:

-- hunt you down for decades (track you down 20 years later, charge you tens of thousands of dollars, and take your house away)

-- put a lien on your vehicle, house

-- garnish your paycheck/wages

-- seize your tax refund

-- send collections agencies after you

-- take your public assistance benefits

-- sue you in civil court

-- take money from your family even after you’re dead

[violet-butterflies]

❥︎ yandere! Dilf Part 2

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ drugging, stalking, delusional, doing things without consent, masturbation, NSFW ( male yandere! oc x female reader ) Click to see part 1 and part 3 !

"You wanna join daddy and mommy in bed, Yoon?"

The four-year-old nodded at his dad cutely as he climbed onto the bed, right between an unconscious woman and his dad. As soon as the four-year-old was comfortable, his dad took both his son and the sleeping woman. He then kissed the cheeks of both his son and the woman in his arms.

"I wuv you daddy..." the kid sleepily said to his dad as he let out a big yawn. His dad let out a loving smile as soon as his son said the adorable statement.

"I love you too buddy... What about mommy? Do you love mommy?"

"Mhm! But... why can't I call her mommy daddy?" Yoon asked as he tried his best to keep his eyes open to listen to his dad's answer.

"Mommy doesn't know that she's a mommy yet... It's a big surprise and we'll tell her soon!"

It never occurred to Junho (yandere! dilf) that his perfect mirage of a family would be broken anytime soon. He's always followed a very specific routine that rarely changes. It's always dropping his son to kindergarten, working until it was time for his son to go home, watching the hidden cameras in his house as y/n brings his son home to babysit. Then, it was either drugging the girl so she would be knocked out on his bed and in his arms or letting her go home and watching her in her house through a hidden camera he planted in a teddy bear he gave her.

He was stuck inside of a fantasy where you were his wife and living a domesticated life with him and his son. One day that fantasy will come true, Junho is definitely dedicated to making that dream a reality, however, why rush when he has all the time in the world?

After all, y/n was always under his watch so at this point he knows everything about her!

"Junho! So I have this barbeque party that I'm gonna host at my place next week. You and Yoon should totally come!" y/n invited one day before going back to her place.

"Barbeque party? That sounds fun! What's the occasion?" Junho curiously asked as an asleep Yoon was carried in his arms.

She giggled before answering, "It's a secret until the party!"

y/n then said her last goodbyes before walking out of the door, leaving a curious Junho standing at his front door.

A secret? What is she hiding that Junho could possibly not know about? To be completely honest, Junho did not like surprises at all. He likes to know as many things as he can and a surprise could either be bad or good.

Junho grumbled his way into his son's room to tuck his lovely son before sliding into his room. He plopped himself on his king-sized bed before trying to go to sleep and yet, he couldn't.

After tossing and turning a couple of times, he decided to take something out of his nightstand drawer.

It was y/n's panties.

Junho always felt guilty when he has to take the article of clothing out. He never likes it when he does something behind your back, especially something so lewd.

With one swift move, he took off his sweatpants before bringing one of his large hands that clenched onto y/n's panties over his nose. The other hand, went to his cock which was already beginning to get hard at the thought of masturbating using the panties of the woman he loves. It's not the proudest thing he's ever done but, it was the closest thing he has to making love with his beloved girl.

"Oh y/n... My beloved wife," he sighed after taking a whiff of the scent the panties held. His other hand was furiously moving on his angry cock as he desperately needed a release. His head was filled with images of a naked y/n under his body, moaning beautiful noises and holding his muscular body tightly with her soft hands.

With one last grunt, he released white strings of cum all over his hand and stomach. Sighing for the final time, the carefully made sure to put the panties safely into his drawer without it touching any of his cum (because that means he would have to wash it and that would make all her scent disappear) before lying back into bed.

Now he was tired and ready for bed and he did exactly that, falling asleep before post-nut clarity decides to bug him with any unwanted thoughts.

The week after, a casually dressed-up Junho and his excited son, Yoon, were waiting in front of y/n's front door. Multiple cars were parked around her house, all probably belonging to the other guests who were also invited to her barbeque party.

"Ah, Junho and Yoon! Please come in! We just finished grilling the first batch of food!"

Junho and Yoon eagerly walked in, Junho taking in all of the details of his beloved (soon-to-be) wife's house since it was his first time really being inside.

The muscular man recognized some of the guests that attended the party; those guests being some of the other teachers from the kindergarten she taught in.

Junho got to mingle with some of y/n's friends as he and his son ate the wonderful food prepared at the party. It made him feel closer to you now that he's met the people you surrounded yourself with and it was also a treat to see his own son getting along with some of the kids present; happy laughter and chatter filling up the wide backyard.

"Ok can I please have all of your attention please?" y/n's sweet voice asked while she softly hit the back of a spoon to her glass with to get everyone's attention.

All chatter suddenly halted as all eyes were on the h/c (hair colored) woman smiling happily.

"So, I'm sure that you all are very curious as to why I suddenly held a barbeque party," y/n started, "And it's also been very hard hiding this surprise from the closest people I know. But, I wanted to make it a special event since it is something that would only happen once in a lifetime."

For some reason, Junho had a terrible feeling in his stomach. He had an inkling of a thought that suggested that whatever y/n was about to announce would be something that could absolutely destroy him but, for her, he chose to keep a bated breath as he waited for this big surprise.

Junho watched as her hands held another man's hands to help him stand up, a loving gaze present in both of their eyes.

'No please don't do this to me.'

The foreign man then kissed his beloved's cheeks tenderly making her lips stretch into a wide smile.

'It's not what I think it is right? It can't be it right?'

She then showed off a diamond ring on her finger with a giggle that would've sounded melodic if Junho was the one to be the reason behind it.

'This has to be a joke right?!'

"Everyone meet Josh, my fiance! I'm getting married soon!"

At that moment, Junho felt his perfect daydream be painfully ripped away from him as his heart stopped at the announcement.

A/N Please send help I wrote this chapter after playing League of Legends for 13 hours straight. My back is so sore ouch. I wasn't gonna leave you all on a cliffhanger but the post was getting super long and my back is slowly transforming me into a shrimp.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this upload, and keep an eye out for part 3!

[cameronluvr]

BABY DADDY PART 2 — exbf!dad!rafe x mom!reader

summary: after rafe refuses to let you take the baby home, you call his dad and ask for his help. ward is the only person you know that can take control of rafe and calm him down.

warnings: toxic!rafe, arguing, angst, mentions of cocaine, mostly ward x rafe but rafe x reader towards the end, rafe is less toxic in this part — lmk if i missed any 𐙚

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you sit in your car outside rafe’s place, not daring to drive away knowing that your daughter isn’t in safe hands. you only know one person that can help you right now, and that’s ward. as crazy as ward can be sometimes, he is always willing to help protect you and his granddaughter when rafe gets too much.

you dial ward’s number in your phone, and he picks up almost straight away. “hey y/n, you ok?” he asks on the other end. “hi, uh… actually i sort of need your help. rafe’s— uh, in one of his moods again… and he has drugs lying around and is refusing to give y/d/n back to me.” you explain the situation to ward.

“he what?— i’ll be right over.” he tells you before hanging up. you sigh, putting your phone down in your lap and resting your head on the steering wheel in front of you, anxiously waiting for rafe’s dad to get there.

less than ten minutes later, he pulls up, parking his car behind yours. you saw him open the door and get out, so you do the same. “you alright?” ward walks up to you, rubbing your arm to try cheer you up. you looked awful. your eyes were red and wet, as well as your cheeks. “no, i just want her back” you shake your head, your lips quivering as you try to hold back tears.

“stay here, okay? i’ll go get her.” he tells you, seeing you nod. he walks up to the house, so you get back in your car and watch him through the window. ward wasn’t the greatest dad to rafe, but he wanted what’s best for you and your child, his granddaughter. he knows that rafe doesn’t treat you as well as he should, and thinks you deserve better.

ward knocks on the door, and rafe answers shortly after, holding the no longer crying baby in his arms. “oh, really?” he scoffs knowing you had called his dad. “yes, really, rafe. what the fuck are you doing?” he asks, looking at his son with disappointment, wanting to hear his side of the story.

“i’m not doing nothin’, dad, she was yelling at me, she made the fuckin’ baby cry, so i ain’t givin’ her back.” rafe looks his dad in the eye as he speaks, shaking his head. “why was she yelling at you, rafe?” ward asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

… no answer.

“huh? why, son?” he asks again, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him. rafe rolls his eyes and sighs loudly, not necessarily wanting to say the reason. ward shakes his head and invites himself into the house, walking past rafe. “come in…?” rafe sarcastically mumbles to himself as he shuts the door with his free hand.

ward walks around the place to look for the drugs you were talking about. logically, rafe would’ve gotten rid of the evidence as soon as you left, but he didn’t get rid of all of it. the lines of cocaine were gone, but the bag was still there, indicating that he sniffed it when you left, but ward doesn’t know about that.

ward locks eyes onto the bag of coke, and walks over to it to snatch it from the coffee table. “really, rafe?!” ward raises his voice at his son, but not loud enough to scare the baby, she’s already witnessed enough fighting and yelling today.

“dad,” rafe whines like a child, as if he isn’t holding his own in his arms. “don’t dad me, are you kidding me?” ward’s eyebrows raise, and eyes widen in anger and shock, holding the bag in front of him.

“… rafe. you have a baby in your arms right now, and you’re high off this shit?” ward asks, sighing. “i’m not high.” rafe shakes his head, but ward knows he is. “right, okay. give me the baby” ward huffs, holding out his arms.

“no, why?” rafe asks, holding her back just like he did when you tried to take her. “because, she needs her mom. she’s worried sick outside, she’s crying… she just wants y/d/n back.” ward sighs as he explains, just wanting his son to understand and comply, not excuse and argue.

“she made her cry—”

“you had cocaine lying around with her child in here. you don’t think she has a reason to fucking yell at you?” ward asks, defending you, not him.

“she’s my child too!” rafe argues, pointing to himself with his free hand.

“i know, rafe, but a good dad wouldn’t put their child in danger like that.” ward says. “oh, and you were the most perfect dad, yeah?” rafe scoffs a laugh. “i know i wasn’t, son, and i’m sorry about that, okay? but can you please just give me the baby so y/n can take her home? do you really want her to think about her father the same way you think of me?” ward asks, holding out his arms, waiting for rafe to hand the kid over.

rafe really thinks about what his dad just said. he realizes that he really doesn’t want his baby girl to grow up and hate her dad, just like how he hated his dad for always mistreating him, leaving him out, and telling him to man up. he sighs after a few moments of silence, giving his daughter a kiss on the cheek before finally deciding to hand her over to ward.

“hi, sweet girl,” he softly says to her, gently taking her from rafe’s arms to hold her in his, smiling at her and kissing the top of her head. “thank you, son” he looks at his son as he holds his granddaughter on his hip, giving rafe a proud look. rafe nods, realizing he did the right thing.

“y/n’s waiting outside, so… i should go.” ward tells rafe, seeing him nod again. they both walk over to the door and rafe opens it, ward exits and stands in the doorway with the kid on his hip. “i love you, son, okay? remember that” ward tells him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “yeah…” rafe nods. he had never experienced much affection from his dad, so it was mostly unfamiliar to him.

as for you, you look out your car window to see rafe and ward at the door, and thankfully ward has your baby. you get out of your car, walking up the driveway to meet ward halfway. he hands the little girl to you, who is already looking at you with a grin and grabby hands. you quickly take her, mouthing a “thank you” to ward before he turns to talk to his son for a moment.

you walk back to your car to place your daughter in her car seat, sitting her down and strapping her up, making sure she has everything she needs. you place a pacifier in her mouth before giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek, turning around to see ward walking towards you, rafe following a bit behind him. “thank you, again, ward…” you say quietly, not wanting rafe to overhear and belittle you over it later. you know how unpredictable he can be.

“don’t worry about it, just glad she’s okay,” he says, giving you a little hug before saying goodbye to the baby in the car. “see you soon my little princess,” he rubs his granddaughters cheek with his finger, watching her smile at him. he takes his head out of the car, and says goodbye to you before heading back to his car.

rafe approaches you now, sighing as he silently walks up. “… i’m sorry” he seemed hesitant to say, it wasn’t ok, but he is still your baby’s father, whether you like it or not.

“… just, don’t do that shit around my daughter again, okay? because you seriously won’t be seeing her—”

“i won’t,” he cuts you off. “okay? i won’t. i’m sorry.” he says, surrendering his hands up in front of him. “good.” you cross your arms, nodding as you accept his apology.

he walks past you, and walks to the open car door behind you, where your daughter sat in the backseat, strapped and ready to go. she has a plushie toy in her hand she’s playing with, so rafe reaches down and giggles at the sight of her.

“daddy loves you, princess, m’kay? i’ll be better, for you” he says like she can understand him, giving her a kiss on the head before standing back up to close the door, turning around to face you again.

you stand with your arms crossed over your chest, and a slight smile on your face. “you mean that?” you ask, seeing him nod. “i’ll change, y/n. i realized i don’t want her to grow up with a shitty dad… like mine was,” he sighs. he loved his dad, but he sure was toxic.

“i’ll change for you, too, y’know…” he scratches the back of his head. you aren’t together, but he wants the best for his daughter, and that means keeping you happy, too.

you smile, opening your arms for a small hug. he accepts it, loosely wrapping his arms around your back to hug you. “i’ll see you soon, ‘kay?” you ask, seeing him nod. you walk around to the drivers side, getting in the car and putting your belt on.

you drive away, sighing at what had just happened. you’ve heard those words a thousand times from him in the past, you don’t know why you’re expecting him to keep his promises now that you have a kid together, but you sure as shit hope he changes. for the baby.

IDK WHY I ALWAYS MAKE RAFE LESS TOXIC IN THE 2ND PART OF EVERY STORY 💀 but nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy part 2! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ let me know what you think in the comments. LOTS OF LOVE <33 — PS, NOT PROOFREAD, COULD BE MULTIPLE MISTAKES LOL, JUST IGNORE HAH

@cameronluvr

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: discussion of past parental death due to overdose, mention of drug use

Steve stumbled upon the article when he was helping Robin collect articles for a project for her Industry Studies course.

He didn’t think much of reading about another small time musician getting caught up with the wrong crowd, and overdosing or getting in a drunk driving accident. It seemed like a pretty common theme. It was terrible, sad, horrible, but he’d seen about 30 stories like that in the last two days and he was kind of getting numb to it all.

Until he saw the name Munson.

Until a picture of a woman with long, curly hair and Eddie’s smile stared back at him next to a headline that read: “Kentucky Country Queen Dead at 27.”

He read the article with tears in his eyes.

Elizabeth “El” Munson, a hopeful country singer and guitarist, was found dead in her home by her six year old son, Edward. The boy reportedly tried calling his father at work with no luck before finally calling his uncle, Wayne Munson.

Toxicology reports show that she overdosed on multiple illegal substances. At this time, it is believed to have been accidental and no foul play is suspected.

It has now been made clear that Elizabeth was seeking a divorce from her husband, Al Munson, but had not been successful as lawyers were unable to locate him until her funeral. Their son has been put in the care of Wayne until further notice.

Robin found him 20 minutes later, staring at the page with swollen, red eyes. She took the paper, read the article, and put it back in the files wordlessly.

“I don’t think he wants us to know,” she finally said.

She was probably right.

But Steve had grown pretty close to Eddie over the last six months, had opened up to him about his parents, his fake friends, his concussions and nightmares. Eddie had started opening up to him, too.

He thought he had, anyway.

He told him about how his mom died when he was young and his dad was awful so he moved in with Wayne. He told him about how his dad appeared every couple years looking for money or a place to stay and Wayne always turned him away.

But he never really talked about his mom, always said he barely remembered her.

Did he know what happened?

——

Steve asked Wayne the next morning.

He’d come by to pick Eddie up for a day with the kids, but Eddie hadn’t set his alarm and was still asleep.

Perfect opportunity to find out more.

“So. Eddie’s mom.”

Wayne tensed over his plate of toast and scrambled eggs. He didn’t look up, just took another bite of food.

“Does he know how she died?”

“Do you?”

“Newspaper said overdose,” Steve tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. “Says Eddie found her.”

“Trauma messes with your memory.”

It was final, a statement that left Steve with more questions, but a certainty that he’d get no answers.

“Yeah.” He gulped. “I’ve heard.”

——

Steve doesn’t bring it up to Eddie for a while.

He figured Wayne’s reaction said a lot about what Eddie knew or would be willing to share.

But they were a little high and alone and Eddie’s hand was warm in his and his filter was broken.

“I’m sorry you had to be the one to find your mom.”

The air around them was thick. The silence was deafening.

“Me too.”

Eddie’s voice was quiet, nothing like his usual playful tone.

Steve immediately wanted to put this conversation in reverse, pretend his curiosity didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie moved closer to Steve, his arm a constant pressure against Steve’s. His head leaned against Steve’s shoulder.

“Wayne doesn’t know I know how she died. He doesn’t know I know my dad gave her bad drugs, convinced her all the up and coming musicians were doing a new strain of heroin. She’d kicked him out of the house,” Eddie’s breath caught. “She shouldn’t have let him come back that day. I heard them arguing before I left for school. She told him she was finding a manager and recording an album and that she was divorcing him. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it was bad.”

“Eds, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I know, Stevie. But you know everything else.” Eddie’s face turned until his nose and mouth were pressed against Steve’s arm. “I went to school. Didn’t think about it. Figured my dad would be gone when I got home and might come back in a few days once they cooled off. But when I got home, he was gone and my mom’s bedroom door was closed. And I opened it and there she was.”

Steve turned so he was face to face with Eddie, cupping his jaw and rubbing his thumb along his cheek in encouragement.

“I don’t even know why I tried calling the store first. I didn’t even know if he still worked there. But then I called Wayne and it’s like he just knew.” Eddie’s eyes closed for a moment. “Don’t think he’d ever gotten to our house so quick.”

“Did he know all this?”

“He knew enough. I stayed with him and then my dad gave up his rights. Lied to the counselor about what I knew so Wayne wouldn’t freak. Kept it up for a while,” Eddie let out a small exhale that slightly resembled a laugh. “I read the article about eight years ago. A kid in my class made a joke about me being an orphan because of the drug problem in America as if he even knew what that meant and I decided to see what the newspaper reported.”

“Do you play because of her?” Steve asked.

Eddie blinked back at him.

“I play for a lot of reasons. But I started because of her, yeah,” he whispers. “You’re the first person to ask me that instead of give me that look of pity.”

“I’m sad about how it happened, but giving you pity doesn’t change it. I’d rather hear how it changed you,” Steve whispered back.

They were close, legs intertwined, hands touching bare skin under shirts and on faces and necks.

“It changed everything for me. Wayne packed us up and moved us here as soon as he legally could. Probably for the best. Well,” Eddie gave a small smile. “Definitely for the best. Wouldn’t be here with you if he hadn’t.”

“Do you ever go back?” Steve did his best to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.

“Her birthday every year. She’s got a nice spot near her mom.” Eddie bit his lip. “It’s actually coming up in a couple weeks. Maybe you could come with me?”

“Me? Are you sure?”

Eddie nodded. “If it doesn’t weird you out that I talk to her. I like to give her updates on my life, Wayne’s life, music. Think she’d find it quite funny that I bring the guy I’ve had a crush on for two years.”

It takes a minute for the words to sink in.

“Two years?” Steve’s lips curled up into a smile. “I hope I live up to expectations.”

“I think she’d like you. She’d definitely make fun of me for having a boyfriend who wears polos though.”

“Is that how you’d introduce me?”

“If you’re okay with it.” Eddie leaned his forehead against Steve’s. “I know we haven’t talked about what we-“

Steve pressed his lips to Eddie’s, nearly knocking their noses together painfully in the process.

After the initial shock, they both relaxed into the kiss.

“I’d love to go. As your boyfriend,” Steve said after pulling away for air. “What was her favorite flower?”

“Gardenias. Always wore perfume that smelled like it. Why?”

“Because I have to impress her, right?”

“You realize she’s not gonna actually see or hear you? She’s definitely dead.”

Steve snorted. “I know. But she can still have nice things. Maybe us bringing her nice things in death is a way to apologize for the not nice things she had in life.”

“You’re a pretty incredible boyfriend, sweetheart.” Eddie kissed the tip of his nose. “And you now know more than Wayne, so it’s time for a pinky promise.”

Steve giggled before holding up his pinky. “I swear I won’t tell Wayne anything.”

“And you’ll kiss me whenever I want…”

“That’s a guarantee.”

“And you’ll let me win at Go Fish…”

“Not a chance, Eds.”

Eddie laughed. “Worth a try.”

Steve curled his pinky against Eddie’s. “So do you think she’d like me?”

“Oh. Oh god. She’d love you. You’re exactly who she’d want for me,” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve flipped his hair back confidently. “And she’d braid your hair every night while you gossiped and sipped tea.”

“And what would you do?”

“Probably just soak it in. Appreciate having her and you around. You’ll just have to gossip with Wayne.”

“Wayne doesn’t strike me as-“

“Oh, he’s got you fooled! He’s a worse gossip than the ladies at the hair salon. Just ask him about the mailbox at the end of the road sometime. Make sure you’ve got an hour to spare.”

“Really?” Steve’s eyes lit up. “Is he home now?”

Eddie pulled Steve forward until he was flush against his front. “No and I have much better plans than gossiping with my uncle.”

“Oh?” Steve’s brow raised.

“It involves my bed and handcuffs. You in?”

“Hopefully you’re in.”

“God, you’re ridiculous. C’mon, now I’m even harder from your stupid flirting,” Eddie sat up and tugged until Steve followed. “Can’t believe this is how my night’s going.”

“Believe it, baby.”

[hypewinter]

At first Danny had been overjoyed to hear that Ellie had finally settled down. But then he realized the man she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with was absolute scum. He was a raging alcoholic without a stable job and even worse, the asshole had managed to get Ellie hooked on drugs.

Danny had tried to get her to leave him. But she kept on insisting that he wasn't that bad, that he had his good moments. Every time she talked about that man it sickened Danny but he never pushed her too much for fear of Ellie cutting off all contact with him.

Now, as he busted down the door to her apartment, Danny regretted not dragging Ellie back to the Infinite Realms when he had the chance. She had stopped communicating with him a few days ago and panic had overtook him. If he found out that bastard had done something to her, he'd unleash endless suffering the likes of which would make even Pariah Dark cower in fear.

As Danny made his way into the apartment, he found himself experiencing the one thing he dreaded the most. Ellie lay on the floor motionless, a needle beside her. He was too late. No. No no no. Why hadn't he tried harder to convince her? Why hadn't he forced her to move out ages ago. Danny cradled Ellie's body as a silent sob escaped him. Why hadn't he.... His thoughts were interrupted by shuffling coming from the corner.

Danny looked up to see a small boy, sitting in the corner, his legs pulled up to his chest as he watched him. The boy's eyes were hollow and lifeless. And he was so tiny and boney, a gust of wind could have blown him away. What was a child doing here? Was this... was this Ellie's kid? She had never mentioned having a son. Then again, as time had dragged on, she mentioned less and less about her life. It's quite possible she had a son and never elected to mention it to Danny (the very thought that she would keep something like that away from him was too painful to bear).

Danny stared at the boy who looked at him with abject terror. He didn't even need to ask why the kid looked like he was bracing himself. He knew exactly who had instilled such trauma into him. Resolve settled into his heart as he realized it didn't matter whether this was Ellie's kid or not. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. He was taking the boy with him.

----

Or Ellie is Catherine Todd and Danny takes Jason in.

[sprout-fics]

First Day of the Rest of Your Life

(TF141 & Reader Old Guard AU)

Call of Duty Masterlist

Rating: 16+ Wordcount: 4k Tags: Old Guard AU, Immortals AU, Newly Immortal Reader, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Open Ending, Rescue Missions, Shadow Company, Major Character Death (non permanent) Warnings: Forced Drugging, Character Death (and revival) A/N: A silly little idea that I won't be continuing, but others are free to build off of

They’re not known by anyone but themselves.

Things like them shouldn’t exist. It goes against all laws of nature, to rise from dirt and to return. Yet somehow, the men you come to meet defy death itself, unable to be killed, to die a death that lasts long and forever.

And…

You come to realize you’re just like them.

But first, you have to die.

A “Shadow”, you’re called. One of many, under the authority of Commander Phillip Graves and his company. It’s a reluctant job, one that you took with little other option to settle old debts and to escape from a life that haunts you even now. Even so, you share a camaraderie with the men and women around you, bonds forged under mortar fire and bullet wounds.

Graves himself takes you under his wing, reluctant as you are, makes a point to check on you after missions, to tease you when he can, needling you and trying to make you roll your eyes at him. He likes getting under your skin, cracking jokes so your mouth twitches up as you suppress a smile. It’s hard not to like him with his charisma, but you can’t even shake the little bit of guardedness that remains ever present when you’re around him. You’re not friends, but you certainly aren’t enemies either. Comrades, perhaps.

That changes when you die.

You’re supporting SAS forces in their hunt for a known AQ leader, in a remote village, when your squad is ambushed. The desert sun bores down harshly on you all, and you find yourself squinting upwards when the first shot echoes out.

Graves is not far behind you as bullets begin to rain down on your position, leaning into his comms and barking orders. His eyes are focused with trained intent, finger on the trigger of his weapon, and when you catch his eyes he shoots you a wild grin.

You spot something out of the corner of your eye as you return fire- a woman and a child, hidden behind a low wall as she tries to cover him from the firefight. Her eyes are different. Scared, full of tears, her shoulders tight as he holds back her cries.

You shout for cover, instantly on your feet moving and diving for the pair. You shield her as you aid them both to safety, only for one of your squad to shout for you a moment too late.

The bullet goes straight through your heart.

You fall forward into the arid earth, watching the woman and her son be quickly escorted to shelter. The pang of relief you feel is stifled by the agony that laces through your veins, wet and viscous and much too warm. As you gasp, dying and bleeding out, the last thing you see is Graves’ face hovering over yours, steely and grim as your life gushes out onto his hands.

“Breathe, darlin’, breathe.”

You can’t. With every pulse of your heart you feel the sickening ooze of red spill from the gap in your chest. You wheeze, try to speak, but it’s too late. You hear him call for you as you go under, and your last thought is that you wish just had more time.

There’s a flash of something then- brief and vague, like the shimmering outline on the horizon. Four figures standing tall, turning to gaze at you before it all goes dark.

You wake up in the infirmary an hour or so later. Staring up at the medical tent and trying to process the fact that you’re alive.

Remarkably, you feel…fine? 

A hand smooths over your chest, and you find no bullet hole at all. No gaping wound where your life force bled out of you. Perfectly healed. 

It doesn’t make any sense, and you try to reconcile the sudden, agonizing pain and darkness with your unscathed state. You died. There’s no way you should be alive right now, much less without a horrible, life altering injury.

Graves pushes aside the tent flap and paces to your bedside with long strides. You expect him to look relieved, to smile and offer a joke to cover his concern. Instead, he appears guarded, cautious, like he no longer trusts you.

You flinch.

Graves watches you with wary eyes, and when you ask him if perhaps you dreamt it he doesn’t show any indication of shock. Instead, he crowds closer, gets in your personal space, and asks you what you remember. You tell him. You died…and then…and then…

Nothing.

This doesn’t satisfy him, and you can tell by the harsh light in his eyes. He smiles anyways, but you feel something curl in your stomach at the fact that it feels so sinister. Graves pats your shoulder and tells you to rest up, offers a little murmur of relief that doesn’t reach your ears.

You’re too busy looking at his eyes.

On his way out of the infirmary, Graves whispers something to the medic, who pales and tries to protest. Yet then Graves goes icy cold, and you feel a shiver run up your spine. He vanishes after that, and after a moment the medic appears with a syringe. 

“This should help with the pain.” He offers with a wobbly smile. 

“But…I’m not in pain.” You offer, brow knotted in confusion, but before you can offer anything else he holds out your arm and presses the needle to the inside of your elbow with practiced ease.

“W-wait-”

You look at the medic in confusion as he pulls back, and somehow when he presses on your shoulder you go flat on the bed with sluggish limbs. 

“What-” You try, feeling something dark and liquid descend over your senses slowly. 

“I’m sorry.” He offers, face pinched. “Please don’t die.”

You grab at him then, recognizing the injection too late for what it is, a lethal dose. You try to raise your voice, try to beg, but the soldier above you hushes you, murmurs apologies even as the newly familiar grip of death settles over you. 

…And then, you wake up again

This time, however, you’re restrained. Your arms are above your head, shackled to the metal bars of the infirmary cot. There’s a dull ache that colors your senses, and when you try to raise your hand to rub at your head you find it immobile. Panic instantly rises within you, doubled by your prone position. 

As you panic and struggle Graves appears and hovers over your bedside

“Feel like talkin now, soldier?” He asks, gaze cold.

He had you killed, you realize. He sent the medic to drug you, to test this newfound ability of yours to come back after apparent death. Now, he has you trapped under his mercy, eyes dark as he scrutinizes your restrained form.

You try to tell him you don’t know, you don’t understand, but you know he doesn’t believe you. Even after your babbling protests and attempts to explain, he remains unmoved.

At last, he sighs in frustration and turns away to the medic once more.

“Put em’ under.”

Terror grips at you. You scream, thrash, a primal fear screeching through your veins as you’re approached by the grim faced medic.

Then, the medical tent shakes with the force of a nearby explosion. Graves spins, eyes wide. Instantly, the base alarm begins to roar, nearly deafening the instant chatter of his radio. Graves is moving, barking order, growling at the two shadows who stand nearby.

“Prep for transport. We’re takin’ em to the general.”

Shepherd.

They’re moving you. They’re going to give you to Shepherd because of…whatever this is. Your instincts scream danger, and it only renews your effort to escape, thrashing at your restraints and screaming with all your might.

The two shadows press down on your struggling limbs- a hand snaking up to cover your mouth. You plead with teary eyes, desperately afraid, whimpering as the medic pushes the needle down into your arm once more. The overly warm rush of morphine slinks through your veins, draws your eyelids heavy against your will.

It’s at that moment that you see them.

Four armed figures sweep into the tent, and as the two soldiers spin and reach for their weapons. They're taken out before they can even shout for aid, two  of the men instantly subduing the two guards, choking them into unconsciousness with heavy, muscular arms. A third points a weapon at the medic, growling as the man cowers.

A face hovers into view- Brown eyes a deeper color than his skin, warm gaze concerned even as he smiles. He’s handsome, a delirious part of your brain realizes as unconsciousness begins to descend over you.

“Nice to meet you, mate.” He tells you as you begin to fade. “Name’s Gaz. Don’t worry, we’ll be here when you wake up. We got it from here.”

You try to ask him what he means, but you’re gone before the words can pass your lips.

- - -

“I’m getting kind of tired of this.” You think as soon as you wake up for the third time in twelve or so hours, flat on your back and looking at the ceiling of a plane.

There’s a jacket covering you, and as you sit up your groan, feeling the remnants of morphine clear from the uncomfortable haze of your brain.

“Easy.” A gruff voice tells you, and your eyes dart up to take in the sight of a man sitting on a bench beside you, the airplane rattling around you both. “You’ve had a rough go of it, take it slow.”

“Who…?” You manage to ask, pressing a heel of your palm to the center of your eye to dispel the lingering headache, looking around to take in the other three men who sit in various stages of alertness. You take them in one by one, starting with the man beside you with the beard and the hat. He looks older than you suspect he is- the age showing in his eyes. 

Beside him sits a man in a mask, the hard plastic of it in the shape of a skull. He blinks at you slow like a cat, and with his arms crossed he seems to take up so much space on the tiny aircraft.

Across from him sits a younger man with a mohawk, blue eyed and bright. He smiles at you, gaze twinkling as you blink in confusion.

Your eyes land on a familiar face. “...Gaz.” You offer uncertainly, and he beams at you. 

“Right’o.” He tells you, and then nods to the man beside him. “And Soap-” The man in the mohawk gives a grin and a wave. “Ghost-” The man is the skull mask, arms crossed, regarding you coolly. “And Price.” The man who sits beside you, elbows on his knees, blue eyes staring keenly down at you. 

You reply with your name purely out of politeness, but are unable to stop the tensing of your limbs as you slowly and cautiously press away from the four men who have kidnapped you.

The questions pour out of you before you can stop them. Who are they? Where are you? Where’s Shadow Company? Where are they taking you? How did you get here?

…Do they know you died?

The men before you exchange some looks of concern, before at last it’s Price who moves and settles on his haunches before you with a reassuring smile. He sits just out of reach, trying to respect your personal space as much as he can in the tiny plane.

“You’re safe.” Is the first thing he tells you, voice firm but soft. “We’ll make sure your commander can’t find you, so don’t you worry about that.”

“The rest will have to wait.” He goes on, offering you a hand to stand and helping you to a seat beside Gaz. “We’ll wait until we’re at our safehouse to tell you the rest.”

You swallow nervously, hands bunched in the jacket draped over your lap. Your mind desperately tries to understand what has happened, how you could have ended up here.

“He…killed me.” You manage shakily, remembering Graves standing over you as you woke up from the lethal rush of morphine. “Graves.”

Price looks grim as he nods silently.

“But…” You trail off, confused, scared, trembling. You look at him, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort. “I’m…alive?”

“That you are.” Price replies with grave seriousness. “And you’re not dying anytime soon.”

You find out later that ‘soon’ doesn’t begin to describe what your life will become.

You have no option but to trust these men, you realize. You think about running, but you have no idea where you are, where they’ve taken you. As you’re gently escorted off the plane on an abandoned runway somewhere in the desert, you think about climbing back aboard and forcing the pilot to take you home.

There’s nothing back there for you, you realize. Not with your outstanding debts and mistakes, not when Graves will be able to track you down.

You curl into a corner of the safehouse- skittish and forlorn as you lose yourself in your thoughts. The others busy themselves disposing of their gear, talking in low voices, and you ignore the sympathetic looks they offer you. 

Gaz settles in front of you, pushes a steaming mug of something warm into your hands, and you manage a grateful glance.

“Where are we?” You ask him quietly, and he gives you a worried little smile. 

“A few hours outside Cairo. A safehouse. An old one.”

You hear Soap sneeze in another room, complaining about spiderwebs. It summons a weary smile to your features.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” You ask quietly, and Gaz stands, offers you a hand so you rise with him.

“Of course.” He tells you, and places a hand on your shoulder to guide you in the direction of the brightly lit kitchen. “But first? Dinner. Can’t have you starve to death.”

“Will that actually kill me?” You think, but offer no other reply

Dinner is a mix of MREs and canned fruit from one of the cabinets. You watch as Ghost passes his pineapple pieces over to Soap, who swallows them down happily. Price leans over to murmur something to him, and Soap huffs a little sound of amusement around his fork. You observe them, realizing that there’s a warm familiarity between all of them, a trust that runs inherently deep and profound. It summons a little pang of longing inside you, wishing that maybe you might find something similar one day

You pick at your dinner, not really hungry. The food sits uneasily in your stomach with your anxiety, and as the plates lay scattered across the table the others finally turn to you.

“You died.” Price begins, startlingly direct.

“Yes.” You tell him breathily in return. He nods, pauses before his next words.

“So did all of us.”

You blink at that, trying to process- before Soap finally chimes in.

“Aye, your commander shot me straight in the neck, the bastard.” He grins sunnily. “Shoulda seen his face when I got right back up, fit as a fiddle.”

You do smile at that, imagining Grave’s utter shock at a dead man walking. It fades as you fidget with the cooling mug in your hands.

“So…what?” You ask quietly. “I’m some kind of…immortal?”

The silence that follows is deafening.

You look up, meet the blank stares of the men before you, and feel your stomach turn to ice.

“You’re kidding.”

Price shakes his head slowly, and you watch as he reaches for a cigar in his jacket. 

“Those’ll kill you.” You want to tell him, but you wonder if it truly is a moot point.

“We were all like you, once.” He sighs as smoke spills from his mouth. “Soldiers, young, trying to do some good in a war we didn’t ask for.”

They tell you their stories, and you sit transfixed as the tale of their lives unravel before you. 

Gaz and Soap are the ‘youngest’ they claim, both in age and in the time they first died. World War 2, they tell you. Gaz was a pilot shot down in France, and Soap was an infantryman only a few hundred miles west. 

“Price found me.” Gaz tells you, smiling fondly at the older man, who returns the expression.

Price tells you of the vision he had- of Kyle terrified, tugging at his straps as his plane burned and spiraled out of control, only to wake up completely unscathed in a pasture. Of course, he’d been killed twice over by German forces before Price managed to find him. Gaz had been the same as you- flighty, scared, uncertain. Price had hauled him to an abandoned farmhouse, had explained to him the same they explain to you now- that one day you just stop dying. You don’t age. You can’t be killed. You blackout, bleed out, and then you just wake back up. 

“Soap had it less easy.” He nods to the Scot, who grimaces. Ghost tilts his head in Soap’s direction.

“You want me to tell em, Johnny?”

Soap grumbles, and explains the story of waking up downriver, having drowned, with his entire squad dead after a charge across the Rhine. He tried to find his way back under the cover of night and found a man in a mask instead. He thought he was the reaper coming to collect his soul, but when Ghost started trying to explain immortality and becoming ageless, Soap had stared at him in complete disbelief- and then ran.

“You pitched a fit when I finally caught you.” Ghost remarks smugly, and Johnny’s frown deepens.

“Couldnae help it.” He grouses. “You did a shite job of explaining. Plus-” He jabs a finger in his friend’s direction. “You shot me.”

You blink at that, looking at Ghost, who shrugs, completely unrepentant.

“You tried to escape.”

“But still-!”

“And they’ve been trying to kill each other ever since.” Gaz adds cheekily as the two bicker.

“No killing each other.” Price reminds them sternly, and it quiets down the squabbling. 

“Wait-” You try, looking to Soap and Gaz. “So you’re…what, like 100 years old?”

“Give or take a few years.” Soap offers. “I’m the older one.”

Gaz snorts. “You are not.”

“I got found first.”

“I was literally born before you.”

“By eight months.”

“Still counts.”

You turn to Ghost. “So then how old are you?”

“I stopped counting.” He replies plainly. “16th century.”

Your jaw drops. Ghost looks smug at your expression as you try to run the numbers.

“You’re leaving out the part where you were in the Anglo-Scottish War, Simon.” Soap bemoans, displeased. It sours Ghost’s expressions as he turns to the Scot.

“I didn’t even know you yet.” He remarks, mildly annoyed, and it does little to ease Soap’s vague irritation. 

“So then Price found you too.” You comment, and Ghost turns back to you.

“After years of chasing him.” Price interjects. “There’s a reason we call him ‘Ghost’.”

You learn later about the things Ghost doesn’t tell you- about being buried alive by his enemies, of suffocating and dying over and over as he clawed through the dirt on his way to freedom. An inevitable, stifling death where he didn’t understand how he kept coming back, only to suffocate once more.

All eyes then turn to Price, who regards you with a knowing smile.

“Old.” He responds to your wordless question. “Too old.”

You want to press him, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes you bite your tongue.

“So…do you…we…” You correct slowly. “...get sick? Starve? Drown?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever been sick.” Ghost provides. “Been starved and drowned, though.”

“Starving is a fool’s death.” Price says, oddly grim. His cigar burns down to ash, and he sighs. 

There’s a solemn silence that settles over the safehouse then, and you feel the heavy weight of unspoken words sink between you all. 

“There’s rules for us.” Price states then, once more reigning in his air of authority that draws you all a little straighter, attentive. 

He goes on to tell you the rules that these men live and die by.

Don’t be seen. Don’t stay in one place for more than a few years at a time. If you die, move on. Stay together. Always communicate. Never leave a man behind.

They’ve spent decades, centuries trying to find ways to use their time to the best of their ability- and the only thing they’ve come to is to stay as soldiers, trying their best to scrub the scum off the face of the earth so the world stays clean. Illegal drug trade, weapons smuggling, extremism, genocide, doing whatever they can to help the innocent and the blameless from violence, and dying to do so. 

What else is there to do with all the time? They tell you. Money, luxury, empires, it doesn’t matter when you live forever. So instead they fight, do what they can to save humanity from itself. It’s not an easy job, but it must be done. 

They’ve seen things that haunt the shadows of their eyes, witness to the worst villainy and grotesqueness humanity has to offer. They’ve all had to take years off when the burden of the world became too heavy for their souls. 

You don’t learn of the time when one of them, and they’ll never say who, tried to give up entirely, had become lost as he desperately tried to rid himself of his immortality. They don’t speak of the decade it took to bring him back, to mend his soul back to fullness once more. It’s a gift, they’ll tell you, but you too will come to learn it’s a curse.

The silence is broken by Soap.

“Can be fun, sometimes.” He offers. “Kyle and I have a runnin’ bet over who dies first in whatever year we’re in.”

“No killing each other.” Price reiterates, scowling at Soap and Gaz, who look guilty. “Not even for fun.”

You make a note to ask about that story later.

“And most of all…” Price goes on, voice grave. “Don’t get captured.”

You remember the infirmary, the cuffs, Graves standing over you with his cold, calculating gaze as fear mounted higher inside you.

You shudder, and Soap lays a warm hand on your shoulder in reassurance.

“They won’t find you.” Ghost provides, and his voice is softer, eyes kinder. “You’re with us now.”

“Simon is right.” Gaz adds seriously. “We’ve been doing this for decades. Your commander has nothing on us.”

You offer him a grateful smile, and remember his warm eyes in the moment you first met him.

“We’ll be here when you wake up.”

These men saved you from a fate that was out of your control. They rescued you, kept you safe, and refused to leave you behind. They brought you to safety, comforted you, and even now they take care of you from your own fear of the future.

“You’re one of us.” Price offers quietly, strangely tender. His hand settles on yours, squeezes it hard for just a moment. “We don’t leave behind one of our own.”

You smile at him through the tears, more grateful than you can express. You’re still scared, and in the years to come you’ll still have nightmares of the man who killed you twice over, who had once been your ally. His betrayal sits in your heart as distant terror, and when it becomes too much your new family holds you, comforts you once more.

You’ll grow with them, fight with them. You’ll hold them as they breathe their last, cry with them over the things you couldn’t accomplish in your never ending fight against the worst of humanity. You’ll lament the agelessness between you all, but will help each other to stand once more. You’ll stand beside them for the centuries to come, and you’ll die alongside them.

And then you’ll wake up.

[charlesswife]

Una Noche En Monaco v

unem masterlist

5 Dias De Prueba (5-day trial)

pairing: charles leclerc x latina! reader

summary: after a one night stand between you and Charles, he continues on with his formula one career. until two months later, you come back claiming to be pregnant with his child.

word count: 7.6k - not proofread.

April 2023

"Do you wanna come to the next race? I can get you tickets, you can be my guest."

His words replayed in my head like a broken record. Why would I be interested into going to the race in the first place?

As I opened the door of my apartment I was greeted by the smell of something sweet.

I checked the time on my watch. 9:45 pm.

"Isn't it late to be baking Naughty Brownies?" I called from the entrance. I heard a small "Oh no" from Mateo and a "Busted" from Steph.

I heard Mateo's footsteps around the kitchen, "Tia you have to hide me."

"Okay, okay."

As I entered the kitchen, I saw one of the floor cabinets a little open. Steph had a smile on her face.

"Why is Mati awake?" I asked her. I heard a small gasp coming from the cabinet.

"Awake? He's not awake. He's in his bed with Percy." Steph answered, holding her laugh. Just as she said that Percy walked into the kitchen wagging his tail. I petted his face and he licked my hand, then he walked to the slightly open cabinet and stuck his head inside.

Mateo tried to push him away with his tiny hands. "Go away, you're gonna get me caught." He said in a serious tone, the Rottweiler started to lick him as well. In the end, the cabinet door opened, leaving Mateo in full display.

"Oh, Mati. I didn't know that was your new bed. Should've told me before I bought you that big bed you have." I said as I brought the brownie to my lips. Steph loves having slutty brownies before bed, but ever since Mateo was born, we had to change the name to naughty brownies.

He stayed quiet for a second, his green eyes started to gloss. "Am I in trouble?"

He is so cute, I wanted to laugh for a second. "No, mi amor. Come out so you can have a piece and go to bed."

When my mom was alive, she used to say 'When in doubt, leave your destiny in the hands of a coin, flip it and carry on' and while usually I would do it, sometimes I wish she was here to tell me what to do.

Heads - I go to the GP

Tails - I stay

I was never good at flipping coins. All the time I flip it and let it drop to the floor. So that is what I did. I didn’t dare to look down, at least not until the coin stopped circling around the floor.

I picked up the coin. This is my destiny and so be it.

The next day I decided to meet up with Charles, to tell him my answer.

I expect our meeting to be short and easy, so I told him to meet me at a parking lot. It sounds very sketchy now that I think about it.

I saw his car once I got into the parking, I tried to open the door but it was locked - which made sense - I knocked on his window and when he finally saw me he unlocked the door and I got in.

Europeans kiss both cheeks to say hi, and in my culture, we do it just once. But I am not in my country and I do not want to say hi to Charles, let alone kiss me. So when his body approached mine to greet me with kisses I stopped him. His body was close enough that I smelled his perfume. It smelled like a drug... very addicting to the point I wanted t smell more.

"Sorry," he murmured. "It's a habit." he tried to explain.

"Yeah, whatever." I responded. "This is what's going to happen. We are not co-parenting. Mateo is my son, so you don't get a say here. If you really say that you are ready to be a man and be responsible and be a father, that's fine, but you have to prove it. I will decide when is the right time to tell my son you're his father," I saw his Adam's apple go up a bit as if he was nervous.

"His name is Mateo?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"With one T?" My heart stopped for a second. The last time we spoke, he told me he saw a kid in the car, but he never said he met Mateo or even spoke with him to the point he knows his name is with one t.

"How did you know-?"

"Is it really?" his voice was higher this time. "I met him. At the bookstore. And I- I- I felt this connection the moment I saw him, and I asked his name and he said 'Mateo with one T'" His smile is so wide that I wondered for a second if his cheeks hurt.

I stared at him. I don't know if I should curse him out, or simply get out of the car and forget this meeting ever happen, because how dare he say he felt a 'connection'. He's full of shit. "Don't ever say that again. Especially not in front of me. You don't have a connection, you don't know him. I don't know which god or angel is on your side to the point that you found us and you even talked to him. I'm nice enough to actually give you a second chance, but I have my limits, so you better be careful with the things you say."

I took my phone out and opened the Calendar app. "Today is the 19th and most likely you have to be in Baku on the 25th. So you have five days you can spend with Mateo, with me present, of course. If you want to spend time with him, that is."

"Yes! Sorry, yes. Of course." He nodded. "Is it possible to have a dinner with my family? I want my family to know you and Mateo. They don't... they don't really know about any of this,"

"Your family doesn't know about us?" Us meaning Mateo and me, not Charles and I. He shaked his head. "I wouldn't be too worried about your family. If I were you, I would be more concerned about how the public would react to this. The truth will come out sooner or later, and God knows what they are going to say."

His face was blank. He knew I was right, or maybe he was thinking that I would release the information to the public. "I'll protect him. No matter what."

I wanted to say a sarcastic comment but I didn't want to. At least just for today. I saw the way his eyes became a bit red when I told him he doesn't have a connection with Mateo.

He cleared his throat a bit and then he looked me in the eyes. Oh, his big green eyes. "I just want to thank you, for giving me a chance. I will prove to you that I am worthy of you and Mateo." Why is he talking this way?

I texted him the address of my apartment, once it got sent I said, "That's my address, be there at 9:30"

Thursday 20th - Charles' POV

Am I early? Will she be mad that I am early? I stand in front of her door, debating whether I should knock or come back in thirty minutes. Just as I was about to leave the door open.

"Okay, Mati, see you later!" The woman said as she stepped out, she turned around and faced me. "Oh," she looked at her watch and said, "shouldn't you be here in thirty minutes?"

"Yeah, um I wasn't- um I was going to come back in a bit," I said.

"There's no point, you are already here so I might as well let you in. Just go inside and wait, and whatever you do, don't open the curtains." She opened the door again and pushed me inside.

The inside of her apartment was nice, but it makes me wonder how she can afford the place if she only works at a bookstore. I got into the kitchen first, it has an open area that leads to the living room. The tv was on showing a cartoon of what it looked to be a blue cat. On the kitchen counter, I saw what looked to be a tiramisu. I tried to be strong but I am weak when it comes to a good tiramisu.

I quickly found what I needed, a knife, a spoon, and a plate. I don't think Y/n would notice if it just take one tiny little piece. I got ready to cut and I heard someone say.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I looked up and saw him. Mateo. He was beautiful. He made his way toward one of the couches shaped like an L and sat there. "My mami is very protective over her tirmisu and only lets me eat the tirmisu," he said as he mispronounced the name of the dessert, he then looked at me. "You're the guy from the store."

"You remember me?" I asked hopefully.

"I remember you are the guy from the store," he said like it was the most obvious thing.

"Do you remember my name?"

He was quiet for a second. "No, should I?"

His comment did make me sad for a second but then he let out the biggest gap and came running towards me, he put his arms up. "Lift me up,"

My heart is beating so fast, I lifted him up and secured him in my arms. Up close I could see the freckles on his nose, he looks a lot like me. He looked around the kitchen and then he pointed to the microwave. "Take me there. Go, go." Once I did what he asked, he opened the door of the microwave, and inside was a plate of brownies. He took two pieces out and closed the door. "Okay, put me down. Down" He started to squirm in my arms. Once I put him down on the floor, he looked at the brownies in his hands and gave me the smallest piece. "Thank you for the help" He then ran back to the couch to sit down. In front of him was a coffee table, there was paper and crayons all over it.

"Where's your mommy?" I asked him.

"Probably with Percy," he said, without pulling his eyes away from the TV. Who's Percy?

"Do you wanna see my drawing? My mami says I'm the next Picasso," he left the brownie on one side of the table and got one of the papers. I walked to the couch and saw the paper. It was a big house, 4 figure sticks and a small black figure with four legs. "This is Mami," he pointed at the tall figure stick, "This is my tia Steph," he pointed at the second tall figure stick, probably the woman that let me in, "This is me and my brother," he pointed at the two small figure sticks. Brother? He has a brother? "And this is my dog, and this is my new house, but they are building it right now so we live here."

"This is really good Mateo," I complimented him, but my thought are on the brother he mentioned.

"I know, you can have it. I'll sign it for you. Mami says I have to sign all my art so people know I made it," he explained as he grabbed the black crayon.

"Your mom is a smart woman,"

"How do you know mami?" he asked. "If you are the bad man that wants to take me away from mami I won't let you have the drawing. I don't like bad people that want to hurt mami."

"I'm not bad, I promise. I'm a nice person."

"Okay!" He wrote his name on the paper and then grabbed his brownie. "Are you my papi?" he looked at me.

"What?" my eyes widen.

"Yes. Are you my papi? If you're not bad, and you know my mom, then are you my daddy?"

How is this four-year-old so smart and how do I even respond to that? Before I could say anything, someone interrupted me. "Mati! Come here so I can put sunscreen on your pretty face." He got off the couch and went running into the hallway.

I grabbed the paper and stared at it. Did she have another child with someone else after me?

Y/n's POV

Mateo came running into the bathroom and the first thing he did was rub his face against Percy and give him kisses. "No, Mateo no beses al perro, mi amor. Ahora te tengo que lavar la cara otra vez." (No, Mateo, don't kiss the god, my love. Now I have to wash your face again.)

"Percy es tan tierno que solo le quiero dar besitos, mami" (Percy is so cute that I only want to give him kisses)

"Well you are cute too and you don't see me giving you kisses all do time," I said as I washed his face.

"You do give me kisses Mommy." he laughed.

"Alright, that's enough. I'm going to put sunscreen on you." I put sunscreen on my three fingers. "Where do we put sunscreen?"

"On the faceeeee" he said. "On the neeeeeck, y en las orejaaaas" (in the ears) I laughed at the way he explained it. Once I was done putting on the sunscreen, we both walked out of the bathroom and into the living room.

I started to open the curtains.

"Mami this man tried to eat your tirmisu" Mateo said. I turned around and saw Charles sitting on my couch with a brownie on his lips, just frozen, like when Mateo gets caught doing something he shouldn't.

As he was chewing, he said, "I um- I was, Wow these brownies are good. I didn't eat your tiramisu."

"So you eat my brownies instead?" I asked.

"NO no, no. Mateo gave me one."

That wasn't surprising. "Who is he?" Mateo asked.

"He is a friend," I said. "He is going away soon so he's going to hang out with us for some days. Do you like that?"

"Okay! Then he has to meet Percy!" he ran off to the hallway again. I looked at Charles.

He looked like he wanted to tell me a lot of stuff, and ask me a bunch of questions.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Um, maybe like 10 minutes? Your friend let me in and then Mateo got me the brownie and this drawing," he showed me the paper. It was all of us, the house, Steph and I, my two babies, and my dog. "You look really pretty, by the way. Your boyfriend must be very lucky," Boyfriend? "I thought you only had Mateo, you didn't mention having a second child," he murmured the last part as he ate the last piece of the brownie. He thinks...

Before I could answer, Mateo came running back, "Look! This is my little dog, Percy!" Little is an understatement since Percy is a four-year-old Rottweiler. When the dog came into the living room, Charles got up and backed away.

"Mateo, I don't think Charles likes Percy." I told him.

"Why not?" he looked at Charles while his lips quivered.

"No, no. I love Percy! Percy is a good boy!" I know he wouldn't dare to pet the dog.

"Mati, grab your bag, we have to go." As he walked back to his room, Charles said.

"Did you name your dog Percy as in Perceval?"

"Don't flatter yourself, I named him after a book character."

At the end of the day, Mateo was tired. Reasonable. He was very entertained by all of the stuff the museum had to offer. But one moment kept replaying in my head.

My phone went off, remaining me to reapply sunscreen on Mateo, as I was applying some on his face I saw Charles, and how his face was a bit red.

"Do you not wear sunscreen?" I asked him.

He shrugged, "Only when I'm on the beach," he responded.

I gasped, and for a moment my mother self kicked in, "Charles, your face is red. Jesus, come here," Once he got close to me, I put the sunscreen on three of his fingers so he could apply it himself. He rubbed the sunscreen on his hands and started to rub it on his face.

"Acaso eres un animal?" (Are you an animal?) I told him as I stopped him from doing more damage to his skin. "You can't rub your face like that," I explained as I spread the sunscreen on his face, "You put on your face, on your neck y en las orejas," (and the ears) I murmured. Once I was done, I realized what I did and how close we were to each other.

“Is he going to meet Jules?” Mateo came out of nowhere. 

We visit Jules every week, I was planning to visit him once the day was over with Charles. 

“Who’s Jules?” Charles asked. 

“He’s my brother!” 

I looked at Charles for a second. He has no idea he’s one step closer to the truth, at least a part of it. 

Friday 21st

I had everything ready for the visit to Jules. I prepared some sandwiches and fruit to eat. The favorite snacks for Mateo and Percy. 

I loaded everything into the car, Mateo was in his baby seat with the window rolled down and I was waiting outside the car for Charles to appear. For being a Formula One driver, he is very late right now. 

“Well, I guess he’s not going to come. Maybe next time.” I told my son and his face deflated, I, on the other hand, am very happy, but that didn’t last long because Mateo pointed and something behind me. 

“He’s here!” I turned around and saw Charles with a visible line of sweat on his forehead. 

“Sorry, I’m late,” he said. 

“Don’t make it a habit,” I responded. I opened the passenger seat and said, “Get in.” He approached the door and I placed my hand on his chest to stop him. “Wasn’t talking to you,” I smirked, he looked down and saw Percy get into the seat. “You go in the back,” 

He didn’t say anything and simply did what I said. 

The drive wasn’t bad, Charles got to find out more stuff about Mateo. I, on the other hand, became more nervous the more we got closer to our destination. 

Once we got to our destination, confusion was obvious on Charles’ face. 

“Why are we-” 

“To see Jules,” I responded as I got out of the car, Charles following suit. 

I went to the back of the car and open the truck, I gave Charles the picnic basket. I opened the back seat door and took Mateo out of the car seat and set him down. I opened the passenger seat and got Percy out of the car. With my left hand, I was holding Mateo’s hand and with my right hand, I had the dog’s leash. I locked the car and we began walking. 

Charles hasn’t said anything yet, maybe he’s confused or maybe he’s just trying to process. After walking for an eternity, even though it was like seven minutes, Mateo let go of my hand and ran to our spot. I took Percy out of the leash and he went to be next to Mateo. 

As I was walking I turned around and saw Charles stuck to the floor. 

“Are you coming?” I asked, “I need the blanket that’s on the basket so we can sit down,” I continued walking. 

Charles’ POV

Jules Alexander Y/L/N 

6th November 2018

Loved Son and Brother. 

Ahora eres una estrella mas en el cielo (now you are one more star in the sky) 

Y/n didn’t have a boyfriend or a son with someone else. She had twins and she lost one. I had twins and I lost one. I didn’t know it was possible for my heart to break even more. 

I left her alone during this horrible time. 

“Look, Jules! We brought a friend. His name is Sharls,” Mateo said excitedly to the tombstone. “We got you floweeeers, and we have shanweches to eat,” he explained. Y/n was busy setting up the blanket and taking everything out of the basket. I didn’t dare to speak, if I did I would start crying. How much has this woman handled? 

“Mi principe, porque no vas tu y Percy a jugar un ratito while Charles and I talk for a moment, okay?” (My prince, why don’t you and Percy go play for a bit) Y/n said. The kid nodded and ran with Percy somewhere a bit far but still close enough so we can see them. 

I sat down next to her, still not able to speak. “Jules was the second one to come out,” she said. “There were some complications when I gave birth to him. He passed away thirty minutes after being born. He was only alive for thirty minutes and I wasn’t even able to hold him. Originally Mateo was supposed to be Mateo Agustin, but then Jules died so I changed his name to Mateo Alexander Jules. Alexander Agustin Y/L/N was my father,” She explained. 

“And Jules?” I dared to ask, my voice breaking. 

“I may not know much about you, or your family, but I know about Jules Bianchi,” she said. “I got Percy two months later. Percy was born on the same day. I thought it was a sign,” 

“What about your family?” I asked her. 

She laughed humorlessly, “This is my family. Steph, my son, and my dog. My parents died in a car accident, then I came to Monaco to start again. Getting knocked up wasn’t part of the plan, especially when the father can die the same way my parents did. I wasn’t expecting you to be an asshole either,” 

With tears in my eyes, I said, “I am so sorry. I-” 

“Yeah, me too” 

Y/N’s POV 

After he calmed down, I called Mateo back so we can eat. Everything was great until Charles asked me a question.

“Do you guys want to go on my boat tomorrow? Spend the day at sea?” I stopped eating and Mateo gasped loudly. 

“Can we, mami?!” 

One thing about me is that I am utterly terrified of the ocean. “No,” I said as I continued eating. 

“Mami, please, please. I’ll be good, I promise,” 

“I’m not going to be able to go with you baby,” I said.

“Why not?” he asked. 

I looked at Charles, who also had concern in his eyes. “Well, mommy has this fear of the ocean, and she doesn’t feel well, so she has to stay,” I tried to explain to him. 

I looked at Charles, who also had concern in his eyes. “Well, Mommy has this fear of the ocean, and she doesn’t feel well, so she has to stay,” I tried to explain to him. I could tell Charles wanted to say something but he didn’t dare. “If Charles promises to take great great GREAT care of you, then you can go with him,” 

“Sharls! Take care of me so I can go!” Mateo yelled excitedly. 

“Yes! Okay! Yes, I promise,” he assured me. 

On the way back to the car, I pulled Charles aside and told him. “I am trusting you with my life. Don’t fuck this up.” 

“I won’t. I promise,” 

“Was I stupid to trust Charles into taking care of Mateo?” I asked Steph.

“No, girl. You did the right thing. He’s going to be responsable of Mateo sooner or later,” I didn’t want to admit that she was right. 

I looked at the list I made for Charles so he can take care of Mateo. There’s only three things to follow. 

i - mateo will complain about the weather no matter what

ii - he doesn’t like sodas but loves orange and cherry juices, loves chicken but hates seafood. 

iii -  don’t forget to reapply his sunscreen, don’t loose the bottle. 

“Am I missing anything else?” I asked. Steph took the note and read it. 

“Why don’t you just send it on a text? What if he looses the paper?” She asked. 

“If he doesn’t loose the paper then he’s not going to loose my child,” I responded. 

“Fair enough. I think you got it all cover. That’s pretty much it - I mean, I thought the whole point was for him to get to know Mateo on his own. Why are you making him a list?” Why am I making him a list? 

I crumbled the paper into a ball and thew it at her. “I have to get Mati ready to bath. I’ll be back,” I got up from the chair. 

“Wait! I forgot to tell you, a cute guy passed by the bookstore, asking about you,” she wiggled her eyebrows up and down, “His name is Arthuuuuur," I know who she was talking about. "I gave him your phone number. I told him you are free tomorrow so you guys can go on a date,” she giggled. 

I rolled my eyes and left the living room and went to the bathroom to get the water running. “Mateo,” I yelled, “time to take a shower,” I approached his room, once I opened the door, I saw him playing with his toys, “Come on, little guy. Gotta get you nice and clean for tomorrow,” I waited for him to get up and grabbed his hand. 

Mateo is not the best singer, he’s just a kid, but he likes to sing in the shower. Once I was done with his shower, I wrapped him in a towel and carry him to his room, while I was getting his pijama ready, he started to jump on his bed. 

“Mami, I have a question,” he said. 

“Yes?” I asked. 

“Is Sharls my daddy?” I stopped for a second and looked at him. 

“Why do you ask that, love?”

“Well, he looks like me,” I laughed at his explanation. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mhmm” 

“So just because he looks like you, you think he’s your daddy?” 

“Well…” he stopped jumping and his gaze fell on the floor. It looked as if the hamster in his brain was turning the wheel. “Where is my daddy?” 

I sighed. Do I lie? Do I tell the truth? Am I ready for my kid to know the reality of what happen?

I texted Charles a little but after my shower. 

To CL: He knows. 

I heard a pin instantly. I thought it was Charles texting back but instead it was an unknown number, my eyes widen once reading the message.

From +377 3847502839: hey, this is Arthur. i hope this isn’t weird, i asked for your number to one of the girls from the store. i heard you’re free tomorrow and i want to invite you to some coffee. 

From +377 3847501839: if that’s okay with you of course. 

I added his phone on my contacts and replied “Not weird at all. I’d like to have coffee with you” I smiled a bit. 

From Arthur Cute Guy: great! see you tomorrow then ;) 

To say Mateo was excited was an underestimate, he was thrilled to spend the day with Charles. Once he got home, Mateo jumped into his arms and I think I saw his eyes tear up a bit. 

“Well,” I cleared my throat. Charles put Mateo on the floor, to pay attention to me. “I have his bag ready with towel and clothes,” I passed him his bad, which he was quick to put on his shoulder. “Have fun, and please, please don’t forget to put sunscreen on him every two hours. It’s in the front pocket of the bag. He can only use that sunscreen so for the love of god don’t lose it,” 

“I won’t.” he said. 

“Okay,” I let a long breath out, “Well, have fun,”

Mateo was tugging Charles by the arm, “Come on Sharls we have so much to talk!” I closed the door behind then and ran to my bedroom to get ready for my date. 

“Thank you for meeting me here,” Arthur greeted me with two kisses. “I haven’t been able to get you off my mind,” 

“That’s very bold of you to say,” I giggled. I looked at the menu, ��Have you been to this Cafe?”

“A few times, they have good pastries,” he said. 

“Do they have a good tiramisu?” I asked as I looked at him, I feel like I have seen him before, like if I met him before our first encounter. He reminds me of someone, but who? 

“It’s good, but it’s not the best,” he told me, “I heard this popular restaurant L’Incantato,” I perked up at the name, “has the best tiramisu.” 

Curiosity got the best of me, “Have you tried it?” 

He made a disappointed face, “I wish. You would think that just because there’s three restaurants in Monaco that there would be any availability in any of them but no, it’s always packed. I can never get a reservation. I wanted to take my mom for her birthday last year but couldn’t get a seat, unfortunately.” 

I know the restaurant is always busy, and I felt a bit sad to hear he couldn’t take his mother to eat there. He’s very sweet. “Well, next time you go there. Tell them I sent you,” I winked at him. 

“What, why?” he asked. 

“You thought I would just own a bookstore? I also own all three L’Incatato restaurants,” I smiled, his eyes got so big I was wondering if they would come out of the sockets. 

“No way!” he laughed, “What are the odds?” I shrugged. “What else do I need to know about you?” he smiled. 

“Let’s get coffee first,” I said.

Charles’ POV

Everything was quiet. 

All I could hear was the sound of the waves. 

I felt at piece. 

The piece was interrupted by the alarm going off from my phone. I turned it off and looked at Mateo, “Sunscreen time,” I said. He got up from his chair and walked to me. I looked around me but I couldn’t find the sunscreen anywhere. Where did I put it? “I can’t find the sunscreen,”

“Oh-oh,” he said. 

“I think I have another sunscreen around, wait here,” I got up from my chair and looked into one of the compartments of the yacht until I found one sunscreen, I went back to Mateo and opened the cap. 

“I don’t use that sunscreen,” 

“I can’t find your sunscreen so we have to use this one,” I explained. I put some on my fingers and applied it into his face, gently. 

“It smells funny,” he giggled. I did as well. 

As I blended the sunscreen into his face I said, “What do you think your maman is doing?” 

“What’s maman?” he asked. 

I laughed a bit, “your mom,” 

“Oh!” he shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably on her date.” I stopped for a second. “Hey, why did you stop?”

“Your mom is on a date?” I asked. 

“Mmhm,” he nodded. “I heard Tia Steph talking about it. My mom sounded very excited,” 

Y/n is on a date? “And do you know who he is?” he nodded. “Who is he?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. 

I smiled for a bit but I was so confused. “What- but you just-” 

“My face feels funny,” he scratched his cheek, “its itchy and burning,” my smile started to fade. 

His face was becoming very red. I have to call Y/n 

Y/N’s POV 

“So let’s see if I understand,” Arthur said. “You own a bookstore,” he counted with his finger and I nodded, “You own one of the most successful restaurants in Monaco,” 

“And Italy,” I added 

“And Italy!” he said, adding a finger to his count. “You are a bestseller author,” I nodded. “Your parents were also authors and they were like the Stephen King of murder mystery books,” 

“Mhmm,” 

“Wow,” he let out, “Simply wow. You amaze me.” I laughed. “No no, truly. You are incredible. You are too perfect,” 

“Oh no! I am far from perfect. I also have a son,” I said slowly. “His name is Mateo. He likes to said Mateo with one T after the daycare wrote it with two T’s” I laughed a bit. “He’s very special to me.” Arthur had an intense look on his face, like paying attention to all the words I am saying. As if whatever I was saying matter to him. “You would like him, he’s very smart for his age. 

“He sounds amazing, just like you,” he smiled. 

“Here,” I pulled up my phone. “Let me show you a picture,” just as I was about to show him one of the newest picture I took of him, eating the naughty brownies, I got an incoming call from Charles. “Sorry, I have to take this call,” I apologized. 

“No, no. Go ahead,” 

I thanked him and answered the phone, “Hello Cha-”

“Y/N something is Mateo on his face,” 

“What? What’s going on?” 

“I don't know! His face is all red and he says it’s itching. He’s crying and I don’t know what to do, please” In the background I could hear Mateo crying. My heart broken a little, I knew what was happening. 

“Wash his face and keep him under the sade if possible, bring him to me now. This play date is over,” I hung up the phone and looked at Arthur, there was concern in his face. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea for my kid to spend time with his father, and now he got an allergic reaction, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to get going,” he felt bad having to leave like that. 

“Don’t apologize, I understand. I might not know the entire situation but from what you just said, it sounds like the father of your kid is a bad father,” he said. 

“Thank you for understanding,” I didn’t deny what he said because I don’t really know how Charles is as a father. 

“Please let me know how your kid is doing and if you need to talk, I’m just one phonecall away,” we said our goodbyes and I rushed to my car to get to my apartment. Once I got there, I got the aloe vera out of the freezer and got the aquaphor ready. Once I cut and slided the aloe vera, I put it was in the freezer. 

A little over an hour, Charles got home with Mateo in his arms, who was still crying, and the backpack I gave him on his shoulders.

Once he saw me he yelled, “Mamiiiii” he extended his arms towards me. 

“Ven aqui, mi amor, (come here, my love)” I carried him in my arms to the kitchen and sat him on the kitchen counter, I took out the aloe vera from the fridge and said, “This is going to make you feel better, okay?” he nodded as he scratched his eye with his fist, I pulled his hand out immediately. “You can’t do that Mateo. Youre gonna make it worse.” I put the aloe vera all over his face. 

“Why would he do that?” he asked. “I thought you loved me,” he looked at something behind me. I turned around and saw Charles standing behind us, bewildered after what Mateo said. He was only wearing his swimsuit, but none of that really matter now. He had the most sad face I have every seen. “But you don’t love me, that’s why you left me! You are mean! You are a mean dad! I hate you and I don’t wanna see you again!” he yelled. 

“Mateo, calm down, let’s get you in the shower. You need to rest.” I carried him in my arms again. Before I got out of the I turned to Charles and lipped a small ‘wait here’ 

I gave Mateo a quick bath under cold water, put his pijamas on and applied the aquaphor and aloe vera on his face, I brough one of the fans close to his face. 

“Are you okay now?” I asked him. 

His green eyes were red from crying. “Mami, am I going to be okay? Am i gonna die?” 

“No, mi amor. You are just having a reaction, nothing bad. You’re going to be okay in a few day,” I reassure him. “Now I need you to sleep. I’ll be checking up on you.” he nodded and closed his eyes. 

I got out of the room and saw Charles pacing back and forth. “He’s fine,” I said, my voice made him stop and look at me, “What happened to the sunscreen I gave you?” 

“I lost it, so I put another instead.” He took out the sunscreen out of Mateo’s bag. 

I took the sunscreen in my hands and examined the product. “You put a chemical sunscreen on his face,” I looked at him. “Mateo has extreme sensitive skin, he can’t use this type of sunscreen.” 

His eyes widen after that, “Why didn’t you tell me that?! I should’ve known that!” 

“Charles, I gave you one rule, just one. It was so simple. ‘Don’t lose the sunscreen’ that’s all.” I looked at the sunscreen again. “For fucks sake Charles, this sunscreen is expired too!” I threw the sunscreen at him, “Are you out of your mind? What is wrong with you?” I sighed. “Just… Go home,” I told him. 

“I-”

“Go!” he looked at me in the eyes and I knew he regretted everything that happened today. He nodded and left the apartment. 

I let myself drop on the couch, and fell asleep there. When I woke up, it was dark outside and Steph has just got home, I told hereverything that happened. 

“Mati said a lot of bad stuff to him, I thought Charles was going to cry on the spot,” I told her. 

“This kind of stuff could’ve happen to anyone, it’s nobody’s fault,” she said. Although I wanted to believe her I though that maybe I should’ve told him about Mateo’s situation. “I’m going to check on Mateo, you go to rest.” 

I got up from the couch, and stretched a bit. “Thank you, Steph.” I gave her a tight-lipped smile and made my way to my room. 

Monday’s are always difficult with Mateo. He never wants to get up, and just wants to keep sleeping. 

“Mateo you are not going to school,” I said as I tried to drag him out of bed, “I just need to face your face and then you can go back to sleep!” 

“I’m not going to school?” He got up and and started jumping on the bed, “Yes! Yes! That means I can hang out with Sharls more! Yes! Yes! Ye-” he stopped jumping and started at the wall. He gasped and covered his mouth with both of his hands, he turned to look at me. His eyes were less puffy and started to peel but his face was still red. 

I got in front of him and pulled his hands away from his mouth. His lips started to quiver. He hugged me so fast and so tight I always fell back “Mami I was so mean to him. I told him I hate him but I don’t hate him, and now I’ll never see him again,” he was crying so hard on my neck. I pulled him away from me and dried his tears. 

“Mateo I cannot have you crying right now, it’s not gonna be good for your face.” I pulled his hair out of his face, “Charles is busy today,” I lied, but I don’t think I’m ready to see him yet after yesterday, “But we can call him later on and you can talk to him and tell him you didn’t mean what you said, okay?” Mateo nodded, more calmed this time. “Okay, let’s go wash your face,” 

I love spending my days with Mateo, when we are just hanging out in the couch and we cuddle and he falls asleep in my arms. It reminds me when he was a tiny baby. 

We are cuddling on the big couch while watching Doraemon, a cartoon I saw while growing up. I heard Mateo murmur something I didn’t quite understand. 

“What did you say baby?” 

“I said you are my mommy and I love you so much,” he looked at me. 

“Yes baby I know,” I giggled. 

Mateo sat on the couch. “No mami, you have to say it baaack,” 

“Say what back?” I laughed. 

“You have to say that you love me too!” He pushed me a bit, he got on top of me and gave kisses. 

“No Mateo, your face!” I laughed now. “Okay, okay. Fine I love you!” He stopped and smiled. 

I was very tempted to text Charles and let him know about Mateo. I looked at the time, 6:32pm. I think that’s a good time to call him. 

“Mateo do you wanna call Charles now?” I asked him. He looked down at his lap and then at me again. I could tell he was being shy now. “I’ll be there with you,” I told him, this time he nodded. I put my phone out and press the phone button, I looked for his name and press call, at the second ring he answered. 

“Y/n?” 

“Hey…” 

“How’s Mateo? Is he okay?” I could clearly hear the concern in his voice. 

“Mateo is fine, he’s getting better,” I looked at my son for a second, “He actually wants to talk to you, I’m going to put you on speaker, hold on.” I moved the phone out of my face and put the call on speaker, I moved the phone towards my son. 

“Hi Sharls…” his voice was small. 

“Hello Mateo, your maman says you are doing better,” 

“Yes…” 

At the other line, Charles let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to take good care of you. I never wanted to hurt you”

Mateo’s lip started to tremble, “I didn’t mean the stuff I said to you yesterday. I was very mean, I’m sorry,” 

“I forgive you, Mati,” 

“No, you can’t call me that, only mommy calls me that,” he was quick to say. 

“Mateo!” I said. 

“Okay, you can call me Mati,” Charles laughed through the phone. 

“Y/n, can I talk to you?” I pulled the phone back and told Mateo to get the cream and aloe vera to apply it to his face again, after he left the living to get the stuff I took the phone out of speaker. 

“Yes?” 

“Is it okay to still have the dinner with my family tomorrow?” Tomorrow is the last day. The day next day Charles is leaving to go to the Baku GP. 

“Yes, I thought that’s what we agreed on. How many are you guys?” 

“Ehh… It’s me, my mum and my two brothers,” he said. 

“Okay, you can be here around seven or eight,” I told him. 

“Okay, then I’ll see you tomorrow, say goodnight to Mateo for me,” 

“Alright, bye.” I hang up. 

I got everything ready, I got catering from the restaurant. I have the table ready. 

Steph came out with Mateo next to her, once she saw me, she stopped walking and covered Mateo’s ears. 

“Girl, you look so hot,” I was wearing a black satin dress and low shoes. 

“Really? I think it’s too much, I have to go change.” Just as I took one step, I heard a knock on the door. 

“No can do, ma’am. You have guests outside.” She let go of Mateo and pushed me towards the door. “Now be a nice hostess and open the door,” after she said that, she made her way into the kitchen. 

I took a deep breath, fixed my dress a bit, and then opened the door, but this wasn’t exactly who I expected to see on the other side. 

“Pascale?” 

“Y/n?” she asked. 

“Maman?” Charles asked. 

“Maman?!” I asked. 

“Y/n?” Charles asked again. 

“Charles, you’re…” Pascale started. She looked at me, and then at Charles. She knows the truth about everything. I feel my eyes burning. What the actual fuck is going on? Can this get any worse? A little far back, I could hear the voice of two guys speaking French. 

“Y/n, you know my mom?” Charles asked. I think I’m going to puke. 

Before I could answer, the two guys got behind Charles, still talking in within themselves. Is that…? 

“Arthur?!” The blond guy turned his face so fast. I was wrong, it can and it did get worse. I felt my whole body start to shake. I want to run far far away from this dinner, I want to floor to open a hole and swallow me whole.

“Y/N?” Seeing Arthur next to Charles, I could see the resemblance. The dimples, the smile. His face went pale and his eyes looked at me and then his brother. What are the odds? This can’t be right. 

Everyone was in some sort of shock, except for the other guy. He was just confused. He pushed Arthur behind and got in between Pascale and Charles. “I’m Lorenzo, very nice to meet,” He greeted me with two kisses on the cheek. 

“Yeah…” I managed to say. “Same…” 

What the fuck do I do now? 

Author's Note - Please please read.

AHHHHHHHH I hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter. This is the longest chapter I have written so far. This chapter has been so intense for me to write because of how long it is. It has taken me two and a half weeks to write. I would really appreciate to know what you guys thought of the chapter.

I love writing, I love the idea of Una Noche En Monaco a lot, and I really wish I could update more frequent. You guys are so lovely with the messages you sent me. Your comments, your praises and your support on this story is what makes me want to continue to write, truly. I mean the absolute world to me and I want to thank you guys for that. You guys are the best!

I have so many ideas for new stories of Charles that I wish I could be able to tell you. Like the royal!Charles x low class!reader, royal!Charles x royal! reader, Charles x Ferrari driver! reader, and two more that I can't even say.

If you guys let me vent for a bit, these past few weeks have been a bit of a struggle for me because I am not having that much work at my main job because we work with school and if there's no school, then there's no money, and my second job doesn't have events available to work. So I'm kinda jobless which is really really bad because I have tons of bills to pay and Miami is freaking expensive. All of this is freaking me out a bit and I just can't wait for school to start again so I can have work 😭😭

On better news, I have 736 followers! That is a lot! Like if I had one dollar for each follower I have, I would have 736 dollars?! That's a lot! I can't belie the amount of love you guys have given UNEM, you guys are the goat and I am sending a big kiss to each one of you! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I'm also thinking about creating a discord group so I could let you guys know about future projects, let you know whenever I update and all that jazz. The reason behind it is that tagging can be messy and Tumblr doesn't let me tag more than 50 people, and some tag don't even work? But I know the people are there because I see their likes and comments. So it's confusing. So pls let me know what you think about the discord.

Also I saw my notes app the other day and remember the bulletpoint draft for UNEM and this whole series was going to be COMPLETELY different from what is it lmaoo, should I show it to you guys? 👀

AND TO ALL THE GIRLIES THAT WRITE ABOUT SEBASTIAN VETTEL, TOTO WOLFF AND FERNANDO ALONSO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND PLS UPDATE MORE BC THAT IS MY SOURCE OF LIFE RN SPECIALLY RBR!SEBASTIAN FICS AHHHH

TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

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[eliotbaum]

Them³. 

Some people expressed interest in the backstories & relationship between these characters so it’s under a cut. Beware, it’s full of Vallaki spoilers and. very long……. 

Lydia Petrovna/Fiona Wachter/my pc Father Dunant

Alright so, a not-so brief overview of each individual’s background and where their stories meet. Mind you, that is everything I currently know about the characters, and I'm pretty sure Lady W is still hiding something.

Lydia Petrovna has always been a frail, meek-hearted woman, but with a kind soul. For what she lacked, her best friend from ever since made up for it; Fiona Wachter was everything she ever wanted to be. Strong, assertive and with force of will. 

But Lydia also desired her in a different way, one that went beyond friendship and admiration. Fiona was not aware of those feelings and pursued Nikolai, while Lydia fell for Vargas, despite Fiona’s warnings and wishes for her not to do so. It fell on deaf ears, as Vargas seemed like a genuinely kind man. Suffice to say to those who played the game: the good qualities Lydia loved disappeared over time and he ended up emotionally abusing her, smothering her in a way where she completely lost who she was. Lydia was always desperate to help others despite her constitution and lack of powers or influence, so she thought putting on a bright face and encouraging the "all will be well" ideology would suffice. But she suffered greatly under it, too, coping with solitude and drug/alcohol abuse. Regardless, she kept holding onto hope, believing a better tomorrow will come one day. 

Vargas growing more paranoid of everyone ended up manipulating Lydia into believing Fiona and her husband were not to be trusted. And with Lydia’s facade steadily replacing what Fiona loved about her, ultimately drove the friendship to a breaking point after decades.

Fiona Wachter received a prophecy from an oracle (Madame Eva) while she was a young lady. The prophecy foretold of an outsider coming into Vallaki to bring great ruin, but his blood would also bring back sunlight to the town. She believed in this prophecy ever since, all the while pledging allegiance to Ravenloft as a family tradition, which earned her conflicting powers. On one hand, she could perform miracles and harm with radiance, on the other she received darker powers from her pledge. As such, she is also caught between two fronts — wishing for sunlight to shine upon the lands again while serving Ravenloft as is her family tradition. (This is something my PC challenges her with a lot)

This was all kept secret from her best friend as Fiona had always been a cautious woman. Fast forward to her strained relationship with Lydia that broke apart during Nikolai's early death. 2 years before the campaign starts, he died of an illness, and when Fiona turned to Lydia for comfort she didn't receive it. Lydia pretended like everything was fine still, and tried to deflect any mourning or sadness with Vargas’ messed up ideology. Suffice to say, Fiona felt betrayed, bereft, in more ways than one. And then, her daughter, who was to be betrothed to Viktor Vallakovich, Lydia's son, went mad after prolonged contact to Viktor. Fiona went scorched earth and planned an assassination on Vargas ever since.

In comes my lil guy! Father Kasper Dunant, a humanitarian priest always striving to be virtuous, to be of help, but who leaves calamity in his wake for whenever he tries to do good. Up to a point where experimentations with blood healings destroyed his hometown, (if this sounds like Bloodborne. big inspo haha) and he fled — only to get trapped in another ruinous and cursed place. In Vallaki, he helped with the St. Andral church and Father Lucian, Lydia's brother. Vargas also took a liking to him, which resulted to Kasper and Lydia growing closer. He was attracted to her gentle heart, her kindness he found beyond her facade. They became light in each other's darkness. 

Meanwhile, Fiona Wachter invited him & the party, intrigued by hearing of outsiders. She had hoped they could be part of her prophecy, and she intended to more or less rope them into her assassination plans. Now this being conflicting with many values and relationships our characters built, the party took a "safer" angle, in which we removed the biggest threat (general Strazni) from town and saved townspeople during riots following the assassination; Lydia being among those saved, who they hid away at the Martikov’s tavern. Lydia, who had fallen for Kasper early on, held onto him as she had lost almost everything (Vargas assassinated, Viktor teleported away) and they both found new hope, comfort and love in eath other. 

And in a way, Fiona also freed Lydia of the shackles of her abusive marriage.

Fiona would've taken charge of Vallaki had it not been for Kasper's suggestion to establish a council instead of a single ruler. Consisting of him, Fiona, Vasili (completely different character in our game and not secretly, yknow), a homebrew NPC and Ireena. Fiona and Kasper started to develop this dynamic of push and pull, feeling for how much they can trust and work each other with their opposing views in terms of politics and Ravenloft. But they had one moment where they forged a bond; Kasper, a blood cleric, summoned a mock sun through 'Daylight' for her (my flavor is that he spills blood for some spells). 

Voila, exactly what her prophecy foretold. She understood it wasn't real, but Kasper promised her to bring true sunlight back to Barovia. In a moment of fervor, Fiona suggested they could rule the town, the country together.

They are still very cautious but enjoy the tension and mystery they have about each other. Lydia, in the meantime, has been growing conflicting feelings about Fiona. While she was certain old feelings have been put to rest, the things Kasper tells her of Fiona seemingly awakened something again. There's a lot of guilt and hurt there, though, muddled with affection, and Lydia is sorting out her feelings still.

Meanwhile, Fiona still resents Lydia for her weakness. It was always clear how much Fiona cared for Lydia, repeatedly challenging her to put down this mask, to be herself again. And being hurt by seeing her friend lose herself so easily.  It's bitter, but Kasper has been meekly trying to calm the waves, to little avail so far. 

It is, A Mess to say the least, and Kasper together with Lydia have been growing concerns and worry for Fiona’s safety and ultimately, herself, since she changed so much, became so much darker since her husband’s death. But those two idealists hope there is still a chance to save her 🥺💦

tl;dr young outsider priest becomes entangled in noblewomen’s personal drama while both believe the gods and fate has sent him their way as he tries to mend a broken relationship 

[wileys-russo]

manchester is saved II m.earps x reader

manchester is saved II m.earps x reader

"mumma!" you looked up from your phone, pocketing the device with a wide smile watching your almost six year old son sprint toward you, backpack comically almost as big as he was.

"well hello! someone's had a good day then hm?" you laughed at the huge grin on his face as he waved goodbye to his friends, you sending a smile to some of their parents you knew quite well.

"the best day!" mason beamed, and you couldn't help but melt at how much he looked like your wife when he did so. he had your eyes and the same dirty blonde hair that ran deep in your genes, but his sloped nose, rambunctious laugh and cheeky smile was exactly alike your wife.

"well don't hold out on me, tell me all about it." you demanded as you took his bag from him and he grabbed your hand, swinging it to and fro as the two of you began to walk home, not living very far from the school both you and mary took turns walking him to and from each day.

he began to happily ramble on and on about his day, which you knew he would enjoy given the fact they'd run a sports camp for the kindergarten class for half the day, you having give him very very strict instructions not to lose the permission slip you'd tucked away securely into his bag last week.

"then we have sports day next week! are you and mama coming?" he asked hopefully, looking up at you as you affectionately ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, moving it out of his eyes. "of course my love, we'll both be there." you promised as he cheered happily, hugging your leg.

"oh! can i go get mama some flowers?" he gasped, seeing a few wild daises growing in a clump on the nature strip, sprinting off after you nodded. you leaned against the front gate of your house with his backpack in hand, watching on carefully as the five year old squatted down.

you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself at the way his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth, eyebrows knitted into a frown exactly mirroring mary's own concentrating face as his eyes wandered the clumps of flowers in front of him.

you and your wife were both fiercely protective over the boy ever since he'd blessed the two of you coming into the world. you'd tried IVF three times until finally on what you'd both agreed would be the final run you'd fallen pregnant.

it wasn't an easy birth with mason coming out feet first, and a grueling ten hour labour had you demanding any and all drugs they'd give you, snapping your wifes head off anytime her lips curled up in amusement, cursing her out over and over as you'd almost broken her hand squeezing it so hard.

but you'd done it and the moment you both laid eyes on him felt a surge of love different to anything you'd experienced before, and in that moment you and your wife made a silent promise that no matter what you would never let a soul harm so much as a hair on his head.

though mary had always been the more over protective out of the two of you, especially since mason had always been quite soft spoken and sensitive, taking after you in that sense.

he was a perfectly happy child, always with a beaming smile on his face and refusing to let either of you cut his hair meaning it hung down just past his shoulder blades, often tied back into a loose bun to keep it out of his eyes.

but as much as he loved to run around and climb trees, scraping his knees and coming home covered in dirt or leaves, he also found immense joy in letting you paint his nails, or allowing one of his aunties to braid his hair, and you and mary made no move to discourage any of it.

though you did have to step in when he decided he wanted to wear his underwear outside of his clothes to his school one day and you'd made him change. taking the bad cop role that day your heart broke as afterwards he ran crying to mary, the older girl sending you an empathetic smile as she rocked him back and forth.

but his soft and caring nature had meant once he was old enough to talk mary had made sure to constantly affirm and build up his own self confidence, making sure he knew how to stand up for himself despite your fussing that he would be fine, your wife forever worried he would be picked on for being that little bit different.

the goal keeper was a nervous wreck his first day of school, overthinking every little possibility that something would happen. you did everything in your power to try and assure her that though he took after you he was still her son, and had her same hard headed determination to any task he set his mind to.

to your collective relief even if more shy in nature, school brought him further out of his shell, turning him into quite the little social butterfly, you and mary needing to get him his own calendar for the fridge to keep track of the multitude of birthday parties, play dates and outings he was invited on.

"come on mase!" you called out, shaking your head with a smile as he struggled to choose which flowers to pick, the boy glancing over to you and sending a thumbs up, quickly pulling out a small handful. you laughed as he also grabbed a fistful of weeds, tucking them in with his little bouquet and racing back over to you.

"i couldn't choose what ones, didn't want to hurt the other flowers feelings." he huffed as you smiled, opening the gate as he ran past you and up the driveway. "careful please!" you warned as he took the front steps two at a time, your breath catching as he stumbled but fixed his footing, waiting for you patiently by the front door.

"bang your shoes please babe." you nodded as he stomped his feet, shaking off the excess dirt and you unlocked the door. you took the flowers from him and hung his bag up as he sat down on the floor and pulled his shoes off.

mary's car not yet in the driveway you knew she wasn't home, much to masons disappointment as he ran a lap of the house calling out for her until you reminded on tuesdays and thursdays she arrived home after he did, the boy nodding with a sigh.

knowing the way to his heart was the same as your wife you proposed some food, tilting his head back and kissing his forehead as he sat at the table and you placed a colouring book in front of him.

placing his flowers in a cup of water you busied yourself making him a sandwich, waiting patiently as he ticked over and over trying to decide what he wanted. "half and half? mama can have the same when she gets home." you offered as he nodded happily, attention dropping back down to his colouring.

making two sandwiches, one ham and cheese and the other with turkey you cut them in half, placing two halves aside for your wife. "bbq or prawn cocktail?" you asked holding up two packets of crisps, your son pointing to those in your left hand.

placing a handful onto his plate alongside some cut up strawberries you put everything away, mason asking if he could watch some tv as you nodded, helping him down and following after him. setting his plate down on the coffee table you clicked onto his favourite show and left him to it.

you glanced to the time with a slight frown, mary normally home no later than four. with a shrug you helped yourself to the sandwich you'd made her, placing away everything you'd used as you heard her keys in the front door.

"only me!" she yelled out letting herself in, a thump telling you she'd dropped her kit bag by the door making you roll your eyes at the small habit you were constantly telling her off for. "in here!" you called back, mason's head shooting up as he hurried to his feet.

"you're home!" he launched at mary the moment she rounded the corner, the tall girl grunting as his body rammed into her legs and she stumbled for a moment before catching her balance. "hello handsome, i missed ya!" mary grinned, pulling him up into her arms and kissing all over his face as he whined and tried to push her off.

"yeah she's gross isn't she mase." you teased sticking your tongue out making him giggle as your wife let him down and he raced back off to finish his show. "forever the charmer aren't you darling." mary rolled her eyes playfully, moving to press your body against the fridge, just out of sight of your son.

"stuck with me now." you grinned holding up your wedding ring as your wife pulled you into a kiss, mumbling that was exactly how she wanted it. "you're home late?" you questioned as she let you go, pecking your lips a few more times and pushing off of you.

"had to drop tooney home her car shit itself again!" mary rolled her eyes as you smacked her shoulder and nodded to the five year old within earshot. "sorry gorgeous." the girl smiled guiltily, you forever warning her about her language in front of mason, who was in the phase of repeating everything and anything.

you'd both found that out the hard way the other morning.

"good morning beautiful." your wife had sauntered into the kitchen, playfully smacking your bum as she breezed past you toward the coffee machine. "watch it earps." you'd warned playfully, flipping over the pancakes as she stuck her tongue out at you.

"good girl mumma!" your head snapped down toward your son who now stood beside you, looking up at you with his disheveled bed hair and a smile, hugging your leg.

"what did you just say love?" mary frowned as he climbed up to sit at the table across from her. "good girl! mummas a good girl." he repeated making your eyes widen as they locked with marys, which only twinkled with slight amusement.

"why do you say that mase?" mary asked, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to de-tangle it. "you said it mama, heard you this morning when you and mumma were wrestling." he chirped, busying himself playing with one of his toy cars, driving it along the table and making noises with his mouth as you choked on air in surprise at his words.

"i'm going to kill you." you mouthed seriously toward the smirking older girl, who'd been insistent your son wasn't awake when she'd had her way with you this morning, far too eager to get up and lock the door despite your worries.

dumping masons pancakes onto a plate you moved to place them in front of him once you'd cut them up, gently removing the toy car from his hand and giving him a fork.

"thanks sexy!" the boy grinned, repeating marys exact words she'd just spoke as you handed her her coffee a few seconds prior. "mase no, thats an adult word okay? you do not say whatever mama says." you'd warned sternly as he'd only shrugged, too busy devouring his pancakes.

safe to say you and mary hadn't wrestled for quite a while after that, much to her utter displeasure.

"oh thank you." you smiled as your son ran into the kitchen and handed you his now empty plate which you stacked in the dishwasher. "mama! those are for you, i picked them." he beamed pointing to the daises on the counter, marys entire face melting.

"oh mase, baby they're beautiful. thank you!" mary grinned, affectionately touching the flowers before bending down to wrap him in a tight hug. "tell mama about your day mase!" you nodded encouragingly as mary picked him up and sat him up on the counter.

he gestured his hands around wildly as he spoke making you smile as you watched on, mary over-acting her facial expressions to make sure he knew she was just as engaged in his story telling, taking a quick photo with your phone and tucking it back your pocket.

you stepped out of the room for a moment, retreating to your bedroom and changing, taking off your bra and sighing in relief as you swapped from jeans into a pair of joggers, tugging one of your wifes england hoodies on over the top.

though as you returned to the kitchen it seemed your timing was somewhat perfect to hear the one sentence you never thought you'd hear uttered in the earps household.

"and i was striker! and i'm gonna be striker on wednesday for sports day." mason beamed as you stopped in your tracks, watching marys face fall for a moment before she slapped a fake smile on, nodding through the pain in her eyes.

"hey mase? can you go and tidy up your toys on the floor of your room please." you called out, your son nodding as mary helped him down, slumping against the counter as he disappeared and you checked he was out of earshot.

"oh my love." you held back the urge to smile, opening your arms as the taller girl collapsed into them, chin resting on your shoulder as she let out a deep and troubled sigh. "a fucking striker. my own son!"

"mary." you warned, rubbing her back and feeling her huff. "there is goal keeping trophies, gears, posters, all around this house! and now he wants to be a fucking striker." mary unwrapped herself from you, pulling herself to sit up on the counter with a scowl.

"at least he wants to play?" you tried, moving to stand between her legs with your hands resting on her knees. "i'd rather he not play than be a bloody striker! no son of mine isn't going to follow in his mothers footsteps." mary shook her head firmly, a smile curling onto your lips.

"baby you can't force him to be a goal keeper." you laughed as she only scoffed. "i can and i will! just you watch." mary challenged, pushing you away with her foot and jumping down, calling out for mason.

"mary alexandra earps, you leave him be." you warned, your wife waving you off as your son appeared. "shall we go to the park and kick a football?" mary offered, mason nodding happily before he ran off to grab his shoes at her request.

"you are unbelievable."

~

you sat on a picnic blanket watching on with your arms crossed as your wife tried any and every way she could to sway masons mind.

"isn't this more fun?" mary cheered as she softly kicked the ball toward mason, makeshift goal set up using a few sticks to mark the posts as he shook his head, refusing to even move and try to stop it as it rolled past him.

"i wanna kick it!" he huffed, stamping his feet and flaring his nostrils, alerting you he was dangerously close to a meltdown. "mary!" you called out, raising your eyebrows as she waved you off.

"you do kick it! but only if you stop it, like i showed you before. try again!" she raced over to grab the ball, pausing to re-tie masons hair which had slipped out of the loose bun it was tied back into given the amount of times he'd furiously shaken his head at her.

you sighed with a shake of your own head, flopping down onto your back and closing your eyes, the warm rays of an impending sunset bathing your face. "yeah! like that." mary cheered as mason stopped the ball, but not before he kicked it hard as he could in the other direction and raced over toward you.

you grunted as he landed on top of you, tucking his head into your neck. "mama won't let me kick." he mumbled as you moved a hand to rub his back, sitting up and shooting your wife a stern look as she huffed and kicked at the ground like a scolded child.

"okay, sit up for me please mase." you gently pulled him away from you, setting him down to sit in your lap as he looked up at you with a frown. "don't do that, if the wind changes your face gets stuck like that forever!" you teased, smoothing out his eyebrows with your thumbs.

"can you do something for me?" he nodded at your words and you glanced over his shoulder to see mary lost in thought, staring away into the distance with a troubled look on her face. "you know how we go and watch mama play football yeah? in the big stadiums." he nodded again.

"well mama is a goal keeper. so strikers are like her bad guy, like how all superheros have a villian." you started. "like batman and riddler?" you now nodded at your sons words.

"but only when she's playing! its like pretend, all a big game. like when aunty lessi kicks the ball at mama and tries to get it in the goal? mama and aunty lessi are still best friends after the game right?" he nodded again.

"so why don't you ask mama if she'll take turns with you? you be the striker and then it's her turn, but you can't let her score when she's striker! otherwise the bad guys win." you smirked, tickling at his sides as he giggled but nodded, jumping off and running back toward mary.

you watched on as mary squatted down beside your son, holding his hands as the boy did his best to recount what you'd just told him, the smile returning to her face as she nodded happily at his words.

you knew this was only the start of a very long battle, knowing your wife well enough that this was only a band aid solution to the inevitability she would do anything in her power to have mason earps be the next big goal keeping name.

you laid back down in the sun grabbing your wifes sunglasses where they sat on the ground and slipping them on, the sounds of your families laughter causing a soft smile to curl onto your lips.

however your lack of watching had meant you'd missed mary call over your son and whisper something in his ear, the two of them growing bored of football and advancing toward you. "get her!" your eyes shot open at that as you pushed the sunglasses up onto your head just in time to see mason jump on top of you, mary following suit.

"no! no no no please." you begged as both your wife and sons fingers jabbed into your sides, your body thrashing as mary held you down with a grin, your laughter filling the air as masons own little giggles joined in.

"manchester is saved mase, bad guy defeated!" mary high fived the blonde as the two of them finally ceased their attack, mason running off to kick the ball as you struggled to catch your breath.

"never gets old." mary grinned cheekily, hovering over you and sweetly pecking your lips a few times as you shook your head and flipped her off, still trying to recover.

"just you wait till i call less and let her know her godsons choosing to follow in her footsteps instead of his own mothers!" you teased once you could speak again. "don't you dare." mary warned as she sat beside you, a beat of silence falling between you before you grabbed your phone and jumped to your feet.

"traitor! get her mason!" mary yelled after you as your son dropped the football in his hands and chased after you with a grin, mary quickly packing everything up into a bag.

"mama!" she glanced up as mason gestured toward you as you darted past her, mary easily grabbing you by the waist and tossing you over her shoulder.

"mary!" you laughed, smacking her back as she slung the bag over her free shoulder, taking masons hand as you shook your head, accepting the fact you were being carried home.

"manchester is saved once again!"

[holylulusworld]

Unworthy

Summary: Thor doesn’t think you‘re a good friend to his brother.

Pairing: AU!Thor Odinson x fem!Reader, AU!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader (platonic/best friends)

Warnings: past addiction, mentions of drug abuse/addiction (Loki), angst, classism, Thor being an ass, BBF trope, mentions of spiked drinks

Thor doesn’t think you‘re a good friend to his brother and won’t stop telling you, his parents, and Loki so. 

You’re not rich, and don’t come from a wealthy family. You’re just you, and that is not enough in Thor’s eyes.

“How can you believe she wants to be your friend,” Thor’s voice booms through the hallways. You sigh and try to focus on work, not the fact that the brute is yelling at your friend again. “You’re blinded by lust!”

“Y/N and I are only friends. I know you cannot be around a woman without getting between her legs, but I cherish my friendship with Y/N. Stop trying to ruin our bond.”

“Bond,” the blonde snorts when you step out of your office to come to Loki’s aid. “Ah, there she is. The she-devil.”

“What is going on here?” You glare at Thor, not afraid of the tall man. He’s much taller than you and easily towers over you. “People try to work here, Mr. Odinson.”

“He tried to ruin our friendship again,” Loki defensively says. He moves closer to you, seeking your closeness. He’s still not out of the woods, and the confrontations with his brother do him no good.

You straighten your back and try to look taller while glaring at Thor. “I know you cannot understand that people want to be friends, but this doesn’t mean you can argue with your brother about our friendship all the time. This is ridiculous. Why do you hate the fact that Loki is my friend? There is no harm in being friends with me.”

“Says you,” Thor huffs as he eyes you up and down. “I know exactly what you are up to. Loki is just too blind to see who you truly are.”

You gently take Loki’s hand when he starts fidgeting next to you. He needs someone to help him with his insecurities and not fall back into old patterns.

Drug addiction is a dead end. If you don’t find a way back out, you are stuck. Loki is doing well. You’re a big help and the constant he needs to stay clean.

Thor doesn’t get that you are Loki’s anchor when the world gets too much again.

“How about we get you something to eat, darling,” you wrap one arm around Loki’s shoulder to guide him toward your office. “My office is a haven. Don’t worry. You’re safe, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Thor watches you guide his brother away from him with angry eyes. One day, he’ll find a way to get rid of you.

He doesn’t care that Loki and his father think highly of you. Thor Odinson swore to himself to remove you from his brother’s life, and he won’t stop until he succeeds.

“Son, I won’t argue with you again. Y/N is a hard-working woman. She’s smart, eloquent, and always professional. Stop trying to make her a bad person,” Odin warns one last time. Thor tried, once again, to get you fired.

“I do not trust her. Father, she’s not like us. I know there is something wrong with her. Why would she want to be friends with Loki during his darkest times if not to take advantage of him and his vulnerability.”

“I’m right here,” Loki rises from his seat to glare at his brother. “I’ve been clean for almost a year. Y/N was one of the reasons I did not have a relapse. She’s a good person and a kind soul. Stop being a classist!”

“I’m not a classist!”

Loki pants heavily. “YES YOU ARE!” 

“Sons!” Odin slams his fist onto the table. “Thor, stop right there. Do not go any further.” Odin’s features soften seeing Loki’s hand tremble. “Loki, we believe you. Y/N is a good person and she’s always welcome here.”

“Thank you, father,” Loki nods before he turns to leave the room. “Please excuse me. I lost my appetite.”

“Morning darling,” you try to cheer Loki up. He told you about the scene Thor made during dinner. “I got you breakfast and the tea you like some much.”

“You’re the best,” he grins and takes the offered tea. “I’m sorry for chewing your ear off last night. I know I can be…too much.”

“Loki,” you cup his chin with one hand, “let me stop you right there. We are friends. You’re never too much. If you want to talk, even if it’s two am, come over or give me a call. That’s what friends are good for.”

Thor watches you run your hand up and down Loki’s arm. He squares his jaw and huff.

“Only friends. Who are you trying to kid, woman…”

Thor feels like he defeated a dragon. He crosses his arms over his wide chest and smirks as he watches your downfall.

Odin didn’t waste time. He’d do anything to protect Loki. Even if it means to fire one of his best and most reliable employees. 

It took one old picture to ruin your life. Thor didn’t let up until he finally found something he could use against you.

A snapshot of you, stoned and barely awake as you hold a drink in your hands. To anyone else, it’s a girl partying during college. To Odin, it’s a picture of a woman bringing drugs and alcohol into his drug-addicted son’s life.

Your ears ring from the yelling you received from Odin. He called you an addict, and a bad influence. You don’t care that you lost your job. The only thing that pains you is that Odin forbids you to see Loki again.

“Are you done?” You coolly reply. “If so, you should know that I do not drink and that I didn’t take drugs. That’s a very old picture taken by someone I didn’t even know.”

“I cannot have someone like you near my son or at my company,” Odin regrets his harsh words, but Loki is more important than an employee.

You angrily wipe your eyes while Thor watches you clean out your desk. 

This is it. He made it. You not only lost your job, but your friendship with Loki is over too.

His father will not allow you to keep in touch with his son. Not after his golden boy made him believe you’re a bad person. You knew the first time you met Thor Odinson that he would be your downfall.

“I knew you’re a bad influence,” he sneers when you look at him with teary eyes. “You’re tears and pout won’t work on me. I’m not my unstable brother eating out of your hands.”

“Do you think I care?” you choke on your tears. “Did you…” You take a deep breath. “Did you dig a little deeper? Did you find out that the picture was taken after some rich, entitled frat boy spiked my drink to show the poor and shy girl what happens when she turns his advances down?”

Thor blanches at your words. He doesn’t want to believe you, but your eyes give the truth away. “I—” It’s the first time the tall blonde is at a loss of words. He doesn’t have an answer or a comeback. 

What if he just destroyed your career and friendship with Loki over nothing? 

He was so blinded by his ignorance and jealousy that he did more than damage your career. Thor Odinson destroyed you completely. Your reputation and career lie in ruins all thanks to him. Everyone saw the picture you desperately tried to forget.

What’s past is past you told yourself whenever the memories flash back up. You tried to move past what happened back then and you believed, at least for a while, that you succeeded.

“Did you find out that I ended up in hospital, and that I only got lucky because a friend found me before that very same frat boy could finish his plan?”

“Why would he do this to you?” Thor’s tone is softer now. 

“Well, he was just like you. A rich boy who never heard the word no,” you throw the last knick-knack into the box and pick it up. “He believed he can tell me to suck his dick and I’d happily oblige. That guy didn’t get that I’m not the kind of girl seeking attention from guys like him.”

“Wait—if that’s true,” Thor touches your arm, but you shake his hand off. “I talk to Father and explain my mistake. We can figure something out.”

“Save it,” you huff. “He didn’t believe me. I was nothing but loyal to your father and the company. All I ever wanted was to do a good job and be a good friend to Loki. Just you know, I stopped Loki from taking drugs anytime life dragged him down. I hope he finds help soon.” You sniffle. “I’d hate to watch him fall for the poison again only because you made it impossible for me to be there for him.”

Thor swallows thickly when you storm out of your office. You brush past Odin and Frigga who heard every word you threw in Thor’s direction. They feel as guilty as their son when their eyes meet Thor’s blue ones.

“Is that true, son?” Odin questions while you walk away, holding your head high. You didn’t do anything wrong. All you ever did was to support Loki.

“I don’t know yet,” Thor hastily says. “I’ll find out and then…” he trails off watching you walk past your co-workers. None of them even says goodbye, even though, you’ve been there for them whenever someone needed help. “I’ll make amends.”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity Headcannons; Mattheo Riddle

series masterlist

A glimpse into our main boy's life leading up to sixth year (where Serendipity kicks off) – eventually going to do them for each character (the ones who are a constant in the series), except meadow since that's more reader-centric but let me know who i should do next (this is me putting off writing chapter 17 because its making me want to rip out my hair)

It actually ended up being so long (i got carried away) that i'll have to do a separate post for the nsfw😏 hcs that i also wrote down - if that's something that people want to see of course

warning(s): cannonical violence, mentions of parental death, menions of torture and abuse (tried to make this as mild as possible), allusions to self harm (literally one bullet point), mentions of blood supremacy/cannonical pureblood madness, mentions of alcohol consumption/drug use, mentions of being sick (sorry fellow emetaphobes), allusions to an ED

Obviously he's Voldemort's son (its a known fact; when his name was called shortly after Harry's during the Sorting Ceremony, people immediately began to fear him for his last name – avoided him in corridors and older students were horrible to him)

His mother died when he was born, so he never got to meet her. But she had loved Tom Riddle with all her heart, despite knowing what kind of person he was (I like the tom hughes fancast for an older version of him – TikTok editors have me influenced)

When he failed to kill baby Harry, Theodore Nott's mum took it upon herself to care for Mattheo (who was only several months older than Harry at the time) – she was close friends with Matt's mum

They may not be related by blood, but Matt considers Theo to be his brother as well as his best friend

Mattheo's childhood (up until he was eight) was relatively acquiescent, but obviously being the heir to the Dark Lord comes with its own traumas – he was plagued with nightmares he swears were real conversations with his father

When Theo's mum died, his father wasn't the nicest to either of the boys; they both grew to resent him – the man either ignored them, shouted at them or beat them senselessly (to build character)

They had a Governess in the years after Theo's mum died, so that they'd be well ahead of their peers once they got to Hogwarts - also a way to keep them out of Theo Nott Senior's way

During his sorting, the hat immediately placed him in Slytherin, but it wasn't as quick to choose, like it was with Draco or Blaise.

Harry had unconsciously made him public enemy number one when he found out who he was (I mean his dad did kill Harry's parents so) as well as Draco and co

Mattheo doesn't believe in the blood supremacy that is spouted around pureblood families – has never used 'mudblood' to insult anyone (draco take notes fr) – but thats only due to theo's mother and the way she raised her boys – also it would be so hypocritical because he's a halfblood (i think, idk the twisted lore of purebloods too deeply)

Professor Quirrell took a particular interest towards Mattheo (his dad was literally playing house on the back of the guys head)

He found out that Quirrell was Voldemort (?) pretty quickly when the Dark Mark was burned onto his left forearm – something that continuously happened in his nightmares so he thought he was in one when it happened

Partly why he didn't say anything – he was also weary that no one would believe him

He tried everything to get it off his skin – burning, scratching, spelling, even carving it out, but nothing worked. The Dark Mark was engraved onto his arm like it had buried itself within the very cell structure of his skin

He didn't gain as much attention as Harry did in first year. He went practically under the rader after the first couple of months, only interacting with his small group of friends (Theo, Draco, Blaise, Enzo and Pansy) and competing for the top academic spot in class – when Theo's father found out that both boys were being beaten for first place by a muggleborn (go Hermione!), he used the cruciatus curse on both of them - moreso on Theo :(

Second year was a completely different story however

When the Chamber of Secrets opened, people whispered that he could be the heir of Slytherin (because his father is literally Voldemort so technically they weren't wrong) and he didn't go as unnoticed as before

He developed a thick skin towards the insults and returned them with steely looks that sent people scurrying the other way

He began physically fighting some people when his restraint snapped at times though – he didn't have a way to relieve the tension from all the agression at this point

The only people who spoke to him with no fear were his friends

When the first student was petrified, he was brought into Dumbledore's office for questioning

During the dueling session, he watched in awe as Harry spoke to the snake but didn't dare say a word

He was the only one in his group that didn't bad mouth Harry at this time or call him the 'heir of Slytherin'

He's actually really smart (not at Ancient Runes though lol) and is among one of Professor Flitwick's favourite students

When Harry and Ron posed as Crabbe and Goyle you (Meadow) had posed as Pansy and he had thought it was strange to see her with the two of them, but she had a small crush on Draco in first and second year so he brushed it off as her trying to impress his friend

But he knew it wasn't her when Draco had mentioned Hermione (calling her a mudblood) and 'Pansy' had gone deathly still

He's been skilled at Occlimency for as long as he can remember, as has Theo. But Mattheo has a certain affinity (he calls it a curse) for hearing people thoughts without even uttering the spell – also why he's so good at preventing people like Dumbledore from using it on him

Wasn't aware of his father's diary being used to lure Harry to the Chamber of Secrets, but at one point he heard the whispers in the pipes and vehemently ignored it until it eventually stopped (big mistake, cus voldy holds grudges very well)

Once Ginny was rescued from the Chamber, he felt incredibly guilty even though he literally had no control of the situation – sent her an 'anonymous' gift basket as an apology (he knew it would never make up for what happened to her, but he hoped it would at least make her smile) – it did, she thought it was a gift from dumbledore though

One of the only times he was even a little kind to the Golden Trio and their friends

The summer after second year was hellish for him and Theo

The basilisk was obviously meant to kill Harry so Theo Nott Senior was angry that his master's big plan had failed (2 years running🤝)

Third year was more mild than the last (thank God, honestly)

Mattheo had made it onto the quidditch team now that half of them had left the year before

He's a beater and proud of it – lets out all that pent up agression on the field, which makes him one of the best in his house (dare i say whole school🤭)

Quidditch became his whole personality basically (he's a teenage boy duh – it's like the football obsessed idiots in the pub levels) and he came to love the attention it brought him – he was starting to be noticed by girls outside Slytherin and making enemies with the rival players

He decided then that he wanted to play quidditch professionally in the future – he would not be caught dead behind a desk in the Ministry (they probably wouldn't hire hom anyway, simply because he's a Riddle)

Because he was on the team, he was invited to more parties which he also enjoyed – the man can drink!

But he wasn't one to jump around like a madman like some people he saw at the parties. He and his friends (those on the team – Theo, Blaise and Draco) would sit around the sofas and play drinking games with others who were sat down – including you and some of your housemates at times – but never the Gryffindors

Sirius Black was on the loose which took the pressure of being Tom Riddle's son off his shoulders somewhat – no one actually dared to fuck with Mattheo now that he was a beater either

Buckbeak took a liking to him, surprisingly, as did the thestrals that only he, Theo and so few others could see

The dementors affected him as much as they affected Harry – he could hear his own mother's cries

During the boggart lesson, he was apprehensive of what he would see – would he see what he sees in his most horrifying nightmares? Or would it be something as trivial as a grindilow or something?

Safe to say he was glad that Professor Lupin stopped the lesson after Harry's turned into the dementor

Speaking of dementors, one of the only spells he cannot cast is the Patronus Charm – even his happiest memories are not strong enough to envoke the magic

People thought he helped Sirius into the castle at one point (absurd, i know)

He and Harry got into some arguments at times – Mattheo liked to provoke him for the fun of it, mostly so that competition on the quidditch field was filled with extra tension, but also because Harry and Ron are dickheads who like to talk shit about him and his friends (hypocrites because the Slytherins literally do the same thing lol)

This is the point where you're on his radar a bit more frequently – you, Ron and Hermione went to Hogsmeade a lot and were frequently in the same places as Mattheo and his friends

He does not like you at all, partly for the fact that you follow Harry and Dumbledore so blindly but also – you are one of the reasons he and theo get so much stick at home, along with hermione being top of the class, you are as well so he grows to resent you a little

He's always there when you're yelling at anyone who says something against your friends (usually Crabbe or Goyle – our mortal enemies fr)

When Sirius escaped the dementors people genuinely thought he helped (again, absurd i know)

Moving onto fourth year...he went to the Quidditch World Cup with Theo and Nott Senior disappeared after the match ended and festivities began

We all know what happened but when the Dark Mark appeared in the sky, Theo, Draco and Mattheo all looked at it in absolute horror, having heard the harrowing stories first hand from their families

Mattheo had a panic attack at the thought of his father returning – after the run in with him in first year, he's been certain that Voldemort isn't really dead, and this confirms it for him (because why the fuck would his father's mark appear out of nowhere?)

Because of that, the school year is off to a great start

He gets into fights left, right and centre – especially since quidditch has been cancelled in favour of hosting the Triwizard Tournament (i've obviously aged up the characters but lets pretend the age limit still exists in some capacity)

The Durmstrang students practically worshipped the ground he walked on – which was ego boosting to start with, but Mattheo quickly grew irritated by their constant infatuation with him – especially Karkaroff who always compared him to the great Tom Riddle or the 'Dark Lord' interchangeably

Whenever Professor Moody stared at him for too long, he got an odd sensation on his left forearm, where the mark sits, like spiders were scurrying and crawling around – he decides after the very first DADA lesson (unforgivable curses) that he did not like this professor.

There was just something off about him, but Mattheo couldn't quite figure out what – foolishly tried Occlimency but obviously it didn't work on the most infamous auror

Wasn't even surprised when Harry's name came out of the Goblet – he is coined 'Saint Potter' by the friendgroup (started of course by Draco)

He and Theo snuck out to the forbidden forest to see the dragons up close before the first task – almost got caught by Charlie Weasley, had Hagrid and Harry not showed up with Madame Maxine mere moments before he could spot them

He took a random girl from Beauxbatons to the Yule Ball because he did not want to deal with the hassle of Hogwarts gossip – but everyone gossiped about it anyway (busybodies)

Rumours went around about the two of them (you know like how Snape caught two people in the carriage🤭)

At this point, you were just his arch nemesis' best friend so you were not fully on his radar past sneering comments and jibes, but a small part of him can admit that you looked beautiful in your glittering dress (think Feyre starfall dress vibes)

The rest of the year went by uneventfully – he got on with his school work and remained one of the top of class except in Ancient Runes which theo tried to tutor him in....unsuccessfully

In the months leading up to the third task, Mattheo noticed Moody's skittish behaviour (also Karkaroff and weirdly...Snape) especially after Crouch was found murdered in the Forbidden Forest after the second task

On the day of the first task, he had the worst gut feeling he's ever felt – bigger than the day he found out that his surrogate mother had died

Sitting in the stands with his friends, near the back of the stadium, his arm begins to burn so painfully that he has to fight physically crying out at the crippling pain (Voldemort just got resurrected as a noseless alien)

Excuses himself to his friends' utter confusion and concern – Theo stops Pansy from running after him, letting him have space, somehow just knowing what Matt's sudden departure meant (he saw Mattheo cradle his left arm while he walked away)

Just before Mattheo walks through the exit, Harry apparates back with the trophy (portkey) and Cedric's dead body beneath him screaming that "Voldemort's back!"

He couldn't hold back the contents of his stomach at the statement because he knew it was true. He just knew it deep in his bones.

He had to hide behind the bleachers of the quidditch pitch while everyone was stampeding to leave, where he just sobbed and sobbed because he knew then what his future would be.

Theo found him an hour later and together they mourned for the future Mattheo had desperately always wanted

That summer was the worst he's ever experienced to date.

He met this snake-like version of his father, his only other memories being of a handsome man (Tom Hughes vibes) not whatever this thing was.

His father thanked Theo Nott Senior personally for taking such good care of his heir – this was such an ego boost for that horrid man

Mattheo was tortured into the perfect soldier that summer – tasked with training other Slytherins/purebloods into the regime

Its not very discernable but if his hands are still for long enough, they begin to shake unconsciously due to just how many times Voldemort used the cruciatus curse on him

His nightmares had become a reality that summer – he no longer slept, and only ate when Draco had to force him to

There was one silver lining at least

No one believed Harry Potter.

So Voldemort's army grew exponentially in secret, as did their knowledge of certain prophecies

We know that Professor Trelawney had the vision but Voldemort has a seer of his own – who made him aware of the order being in possession of a siphon but not able to say who it is (its meadow of course🤪🤪🤪)

His fifth year marked the start of the war, even if the otherside didn't know it just yet

At school, Harry started many explosive arguments with him, that he admittedly fed into a little bit out of pure amusement

His stoic facade was ever present this year. Not an expression painted his handsome face in the public eye. Rarely did anyone catch a glimmer of joy in those onyx eyes.

It was around this time, when he discovered that Harry was being taught Occlimency that you were doing some studying of your own

He heard the soft whisper of your thoughts in his head – a pleasant sound – mumbling little bits and pieces about the art, as if you were revising them over and over like a broken record

He knew you were Theo's patrol partner because Theo would not stop complaining about having to deal with one of Saint Potter's loyal followers (the two of you did not speak for 5 whole patrol sessions – lets say between September and November)

Thats when the idea sprang

Admittedly it started out as a way to satisfy his curiosity

He wanted to know why you were learning Occlimency and actually doing surprisingly well, despite not having someone to actively practice it on/with you, while Potter was not taking it seriously at all

So he asked Theo to try and befriend you – when asked why, he explained that he was curious and wanted to know if he hunch he had was right – his gut feelings are almost never wrong

Theo begins his task of slowly befriending you and relaying anything remotely important to Mattheo – no progress at first, until the two of you happen to bond over your hatred for the new DADA professor

He joins the Inquisitorial Squad because Theo's father wanted him to, and by extension said that the Dark Lord wanted his son to set an example too (lets not forget, in his prime Tom was literally the smartest in the school – was definitely head boy as well as an academic weapon)

This is how he finds out what Umbridge's detentions truly entailed

Speaking of Umbridge (she deserves her own tw actually), she had shown particular favouritism towards Mattheo and his friends, to anyone who was against Harry, really – never gave them detentions and let them off easily, even defended Mattheo's honour against Harry's 'heinous' accusations

But back to the detentions – both he and Theo found out about the blood quill around the same time

He was waiting for Theo to finish patrols so they could go smoke in the Astronomy Tower, when he overheard Umbridge talking to the two of you

Well actually she was talking to you – because apparently it was now against the rules for prefects to walk around past curfew (even though thats their literal role?) and she gave you a detention for it

When you asked why in Merlin's name Theo wasn't being treated the same, she said it's because he's on the Inquisitorial Squad and was therefore exempt from her detentions

You had detention the next day and did not show up to your next few patrols, but Mattheo saw the hints of a glamour covering your non-dominant hand (he would know because he's had a glamour over his scarred forearm for years)

Theo told him that you refused to admit that something was wrong - you hadn't even told your friends about whatever was bothering you

They found out by chance – a first year that had gotten lost was cradling their hand and the boys saw the words of the boy's own scrawl etched harshly into the flesh of his hand

When Matt was observing you in the library one day (happenstance, he's not a stalker lol), he was deducing how far along you were with Occlimency but found that you winced and held your head when he actively tried to enter your mind – not good for how long you'd been teaching yourself the art

So he gets Theo to talk to you mentally and the first time it happens is actually comical – you drop the contents of your potions incredients onto the floor out of shock before you whack Theo across the head with your hardbacked potions textbook

That's really how the two of you became friends, your friendship with Pansy following soon after

Now you're slowly building up the tolerance for Occlimency with a little help from a friend

Leading up to Christmas, the mark burns wickedly against his skin at all hours of the day

Then Arthur Weasley is attacked and Mattheo is surprised that no Weasley has come to deck him in the face for simply being Voldemort's son

Obviously no one does because everyone (barring you and Hermione) have been swept away to 12 Grimmauld Place

After Christmas he does get decked – George sends a bludger his way that most definitely had the power to break his entire arm (and definitely a few ribs); after the abysmal Christmas break he's had, he's almost tempted to let it happen – but his beater instincts kick in and he's pelting the bludger and all its momentous energy towards one of Gryffindor's chasers instead

His Dark Mark burns every time his father fails to retrieve his and Harry's prophecy

He begins to suspect that you are the siphoner when you perform wandless magic like its a second nature during breakfast one morning (you're using your magic to flip through the pages of your book, while you leisurely sip coffee, probably awaiting Granger's arrival)

His suspicions are more than confirmed when your magic seems to literally pulse like your pulling more of it from the air – it's almost indiscernible, but if he paid attention, he could see the symphonic ripple of your magic and the Great Hall's magic mingling in the air (and he knows Dumbledore can see it too)

He explains this to Theo without telling him so much that'll get him involved with what knowing this will mean for his brother

He passes all his O.W.Ls with a plethora Outstanding and Exceeds Expectations grades, except for Ancient Runes where he gets a mere Acceptable (which somehow still allows him to retake the class in his N.E.W.Ts options, funnily enough)

What's not funny is Voldemort's reaction to this anomaly of a result :(

Lets rewind to june 18th (aka battle of department of mysteries; RIP Sirius Black you icon, you legend)

The DA have just been busted (like two weeks/a week prior to the date above) and you're all in detention writing out the line "I must not disobey the Ministry" over and over again – to the point where it has become a permanent scar that you see everyday

Exams are happening and Harry has just been delivered a vision by Voldemort (he just passed out in a DADA exam🫣)

Saint Potter and his band of followers try to break into Umbrige's office and fail exponentially

The Inquisitorial Squad catch you all in the act of guarding the corridor outside her office while Harry, Ron and Hermione try and contact Sirius

You're all trapped in the office and everyone (including the Inquisitorial Squad) is shocked when she goes to cast the cruciatus on Potter – internally Matt is cringing and fighting the instinctive flinch

"You can't do that! It's illegal!" Your defence of harry is ignored as Umbridge puts Fudge picture face down – Matt swears your eyes burn a violent indigo, but it's gone in a blink

Hermione and Harry end up taking her to where 'Dumbledore's secret weapon' is and you lot are now all stuck with the Inquisitorial Squad

Theo actually only holds you loosely, and he's the same with Ginny – not forcefully holding her, but also not allowing her to break free at the same time

Crabbe and Goyle take Ron's bate and eat the Puking Pastilles from the Weasley twins' personal collection and you all escape

Then the battle eventually takes place and everyone knows that Voldemort truly has returned

Now onto the current timeline of Serendipity!!

Mattheo decides over summer that he wants to help the otherside desperately

Especially because Draco is now a Death Eater

And Enzo and Theo are set to become Death Eaters the following Christmas – punishment for what happened during the battle in June

Proposes the idea that he teach you Occlimency in exchange for you helping them get out – the group agrees and Theo and Pansy set out to persude you to help

Roll on the Serendipity plot where he slowly begins to actually care about you (scary feelings; unknown territory)

He's never felt this strongly about someone before, not in the way he feels about you

At first he enjoyed how infuriated you became with him; he also despised how many questions you would ask (but that was your nature and he grew accustomed to it)

You're the only one whose ever called him Théo, after the death of Theo's mother, the name was as good as dead to him, until you started calling him it – he never wanted you to stop

The feelings you invoke in him are what finally allow him to produce a full patronus – when the majestic form of a Hippogriff bursts from the tip of his wand, swirling and spiralling at the thought of you, he let out a genuine laugh

He's so soft for you – his persona changes in the blink of an eye at times – from cruel and brooding to gentle and compassionate

His friends have never seen him happier – admittedly were surprised to learn of your relationship, but when they watched the way the two of you interacted after you'd become a pariah to your old friends, they understood.

Mattheo is so protective of all his friends, and somehow he's even more protective of you – he had wanted to incinerate Harry and Ron on the spot for how they'd made you feel, but knew you would never forgive him for it, despite how badly they'd hurt you

He'd burn the world down if it meant you'd be safe, especially because you had the one power that his father desired to have in his ever growing arsenal

Mattheo always has to be touching you in some way (he's a physical touch kind of guy), whether that be a hand on your thigh when you're seated; an arm wrapped around you as you walk; interlocking pinkies, etc. He just loves feeling you near him.

You're such a typical Slytherin/Ravenclaw couple – your intellect amazing him all the time, and he's no longer miffed that you always beat him for a spot at the top in class – his ambitions and adamant loyalty are something that you admire dearly, and hold close to your heart

You both know without having to voice it that your love is unconditional and eternal. Its a love as rare as your magic.

~∞~

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff

@babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony

@dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf

@devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj

@nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette

@prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl

@rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost

@weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @benwadsworthsgf

@rainy-darling @faeriepigeons

@lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff

@gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome

@nopedefe @spencerreidsthings

@navs-bhat @agent-tempest

@magimtz23 @y0urm0m12

@sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne

@whatsupb18

[dancingtotuyo]

Part I

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: Tommy gets himself into more trouble than he can get out of.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: US justice system (it don't work, probably bad understanding of how it operates), mention of drugs & weapons, alcohol consumption, let me know if I missed anything

Notes: when I planned this out, I didn’t realize I’d scheduled the first chapter to drop on Pedro’s birthday! So happy birthday to him!

Shout out to @janaispunkfor beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for letting me scream about this endlessly and shaping this world. Finally, @saradika-graphics for sustaining our fic writers with an endless supply of dividers!

Words: 4396

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

You’re asleep, or at least you should be except the phone is ringing and the bed is cold next to you. That’s a bad sign. It always is. 

A small grunt echoes from your gut as bare feet hit the cool hardwood floor. You can’t find the phone before it stops, buried under clothes you haven’t folded, scribbled crayon drawings, and bleary eyes. It starts back almost immediately.

“Tommy?”

“He called me.” Joel’s voice echoes through the line. “It’s bad this time.”

“How bad?”

“He asked for a lawyer.”

You press your palm to your forehead. “Shit!”

“The sitter is on her way to yours. I’m getting Sarah up now. We’ll be there in 10.”

“Thank you, Joel.”

“Of course. See you soon.”  Joel hangs up. 

You roam through the laundry basket for a clean pair of jeans and an acceptable t-shirt. You run a toothbrush through your mouth to freshen your breath. You do your best to push back all the possibilities running through your brain. 

You crack open the door to Nathaniel’s room. Your two-year-old son sleeps tightly, his mop of black curls spread out on the pillow. You want to run your hand through his curls and kiss his cheek, but he’s the world’s lightest sleeper, just like his daddy. 

The sitter is there 5 minutes later, all too familiar with this routine for your liking. Joel ushers in a bleary-eyed minutes later. He tucks her into the spare room bed. Sarah doesn’t ask questions. She’s asleep before he can kiss her head.

You move like the well-oiled machine that you are. He grabs your purse, ensuring the checkbook is there while you say a few words to the sitter. Joel hands you the small black bag and a light jacket.

Doors open before you and close without you touching them. You and Joel are riding down the highway. The windows are cracked, the breeze playing through your hair as street lights play off the windows, growing bigger and brighter as your eyes fill with tears. You chew on your thumb as the thoughts finally begin to take over.  

You’ve felt Tommy slipping these past few months. You’ve tried to ignore it, excuse it. He’s had a hard time adjusting. This is hardly the first time he’s been in jail. It feels like a weekly occurrence at this point, but he’s never needed a lawyer. He’s never been held longer than overnight. 

“Did he say what they got him for?”

“No… he asked me to come alone.”

“Fucking hell.” You run a hand over your face. Tommy’s antics are aging you prematurely. 

“He’s going to be okay.”

“Says who?” You snap. “We’ve been doing this dance for months, Joel! I know he’s having a hard time adjusting, but maybe we’ve been giving him too much room.”

Joel sighs, letting silence fall over the truck cabin. His blinker clicks as you turn into the familiar station. You wonder if the night shift is actually going to fulfill their punch card offer this time. 

Joel has barely pushed the truck into park before you’re out of the vehicle, flying through the front doors. Joel is hot on your heels, not bothering to lock his beat-up pickup. 

Your ID is already on the desk, you don’t even have to say a name. The officer at the front desk doesn’t need your license. He barely looks at it. It’s all a raging formality. They escort you to a room, not a holding cell as you’re used to.

Tommy sits at a table talking to a tired-looking public defender. His head snaps up, eyes jumping from your face to Joel’s behind you. “I told you to come alone.”

“The fuck you did Thomas James Miller!” You say before Joel can defend himself.

Tommy stands to his feet, the chair skidding back. “You’re not supposed to be here for this!”

“I’m your wife! You call me!”

“Or maybe you should be home with your child!”

“Oh, I should be home with our son? And what about you?”

“I’m not having this fight with you right now.” Tommy throws his hands in the air moving his attention to Joel who leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “You were supposed to come alone!”

“What’re you in for?” You ask, not giving Joel a chance to answer. Not that he was going to. He knows not to let Tommy deflect to him when you are around. 

Tommy sighs falling into the chair like a rag dog. Stress lines engrave themselves deep into his forehead.

“Tommy…” A pit drops in your stomach. “What did they get you with?”

“A gun-“

“Without a permit.” The Lawyer speaks for the first time. There’s a roll to Tommy’s eyes. 

“And?” 

Tommy can’t meet your eyes. He shuffles in his seat. 

“Tommy,” Joel says, voice low and gruff. It’s automatic, parental even.

“A couple grams of coke.”

“Fucking hell, Tommy.” Joel hits his head against the wall. 

“I didn’t- I never took it. I promise.”

You take a shaking breath, trying to calm your worn nerves. “So what are we looking at here?” You ask, eyes trained on the lawyer. 

You see Tommy out of your peripheral vision using his pleading puppy dog eyes on you. You square your shoulders determined not to fall for it. They’re the reason you’re in this boat in the first place. 

“Babe-“

You hold up a hand cutting him off, eyes trained on the lawyer. “What are we looking at?”

“Probably Jail time. DA’s office has been cracking down on these kinds of cases the past few months.”

“Is he getting out tonight?”

The lawyer shakes his head. “We have to wait until tomorrow for arraignment and bail.”

“Then, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” You give them a firm nod, exiting the room in a flash.

The Texas air wraps around you as you exit the stale police station. Joel’s pick-up is cool under your fingers, anchoring you to something.

This can’t be happening. You’ve felt him slipping through your fingertips for months, but you wonder if this is it if this is the moment you lose Tommy for good. 

Firm arms wrap around your waist. It’s a warmth you’ve become way too familiar with over the last couple of years. You turn around, letting your tears soak Joel’s shirt as they have so many times before. You twist his shirt in your fists as he cradles your head against his chest. There’s a slight sway in his movements, soothing your wrenching soul. 

“We’re going to get through this.”

“He had cocaine!”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“I can’t keep doing this. It’s going to kill me.”

“Let’s get you home. Get some sleep.” Joel squeezes you and then guides you into the passenger side seat. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“What time is-“

“Lawyer said about 11. Wants us to meet them at the courthouse at 10.”

You nod, clearing the tears. “Okay.”

The drive home is quiet. You’re used to Tommy throwing out every excuse in the book, promising he’s going to change. The silence makes you want to scream. How do you go forward? How do you explain to Nathaniel that Daddy won’t be home for a long time? Jail Time. It bounces off the walls of your brain like a gong over and over. 

You’ve done this before. Raise your son alone. Tommy was overseas when Nathaniel was born. You did the first 3 months on your own- or sort of alone. Joel and Sarah spent many nights at your and Tommy’s home those first few months helping you through the learning curve of being a new parent. If you’re completely honest, you’re still doing it alone, but now with a shell of a man to look after as well. 

Joel hands the sitter cash and she’s gone without a word. Your purse and jacket are forgotten on the chair as you collapse onto the couch, holding your head in your hands. The weight of the night threatens to finally break you. 

“Here.” The cool weight of a bottle presses against your jeans.

“Thank you.” You take it, tipping the bottle back in unison with Joel in a quiet ritual. 

“I think I’m just gonna crash on the couch tonight.”

You nod, a humorless huff leaving your chest. “Just like the good ole days, I guess.” 

Joel looks over your profile, catches the wear in your frame, the silent tears slipping from your eyes. The rattle in your chest changes from sarcastic to sorrow and then a sob slips from your lips. 

Joel sets his beer on the coffee table, arm slipping around your shoulders. He pulls your loose body into his side. For the second time that night, your face burrows into his chest. 

“Shhh, I’ve got you, Darlin’. We’ll get through this.” His voice is soft and soothing. His fingers brush softly over your head down to the back of your neck. You fall asleep like that, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. 

You wake up to the morning sun, your body stiff from sleeping on the couch against Joel. He’s up, the smell of coffee wafting toward you. You hear him talking to Sarah and Nathaniel in the kitchen. 

You stand, stretching out your sore muscles in wrinkled clothing following the promise of caffeine. Sarah and Nathaniel sit at the kitchen table with syrupy smiles. 

“Mommy!” Nathaniel yells. 

You force a sleepy smile, kissing his sticky cheek. “Morning, sweet cheeks.” You dip your finger in the syrup on his plate, licking it off your fingertip making him and Sarah laugh. “Morning, Sarah Bear.”

“Morning, Auntie,” She says. “Your clothes are wrinkled.”

Joel’s hand lands on your back and a cup of coffee lands in your hands, sending warmth through your body. The hum in your body is automatic. “Thank you.”

Joel only nods, returning his attention to the pancakes sizzling on the stovetop. You sip on the hot coffee. Joel prepared it exactly how you like it, just like he always does.

 “You hate pancakes.” 

“Yeah, but the gremlins love them.”

“That they do.” You grin, sipping on the coffee again. “Ugh, it’s infuriating the way you come into my home and make better coffee than I do.”

Joel chuckles, flipping two fluffy pancakes onto a plate. He tops them with cut-up strawberries and whipped cream handing them to you with the biggest shit-eating grin. “And pancakes.”

For a minute you forget it all, the impending arraignment, your husband in jail for unregistered weapons and drug possession, the two children sitting mere feet away. It’s just you and Joel and a stack of whipped cream-covered pancakes. Joel who held your hand through labor and helped you with midnight feedings. The man who got you through Tommy’s deployment. The one who always calls the sitter and drives you to the police station when Tommy gets himself in trouble. You and your rock. 

The shattering of glass echoes through the kitchen. “Uh-oh!”

You spin around, taking in the broken glass on the floor. Orange juice leaks over the table, dripping over the edge. You and Joel spring into action, pancakes forgotten. “Both of you stay in your seats,” You say.

Joel grabs the broom before you, sweeping up the shards, his feet already protected in his boots. You turn off the stove, keeping an eye on both children to ensure you don’t add bloodied feet to your morning agenda. 

“Sorry, Daddy,” Sarah says, keeping her feet crisscrossed beneath her. She looked up at you. “Sorry about your glass, Aunt Bonnie.”

You smile at her, handing Joel a towel to soak up the spilled juice. “It’s okay, Sarah bear. I just want you to be okay.”

She nods back, curls bouncing around her face. “I’m okay.”

You sigh, staring at the pancakes on the counter. The whipped cream has melted into a lopsided mound, half of it turned back into cream that soaks through the pancakes. You take a bite, the flavors settling nicely over your tongue even if the texture of the pancakes is slightly off. For a man who claims not to like them, Joel Miller sure knows how to make a mean pancake. 

Your mind plays back to the nickname. Not many people call you Bonnie anymore. Just a few years ago, it had been a constant. Stemming from Tommy’s group of army buddies, they declared you Bonnie for always stealing Tommy away from their group cookouts and whatnot, and Tommy was Clyde due to his propensity for getting into trouble. For whatever reason, probably just to annoy you, Tommy had introduced you to Sarah as “His Bonnie.” So that’s what she calls you. 

Joel empties the remaining shards into the trash can. Several high-pitched clinks sound off until the shards settle. Your fork stirs the whipped cream and syrup together. 

“Pancakes are usually best eaten, not played with.” Joel teases, picking his coffee up to take a sip. His fingers graze your arm as he sets it back down, returning the broom back to its rightful place.

”You don’t even like pancakes.” You furrowed your brow, taking another bite. Whipped cream marks your upper lip. You take another bite. “God, one day you have to tell me your secret.”

Joel chuckles. He leans across the counter, elbows resting against the granite much like yours. He sips on his coffee, eyes watching as you stuff another bite into your mouth. “I’ve got many secrets, Darlin.”

You laugh, mouth full of fruit and cream. “You’re an open fucking book, Miller.”

”I think I could surprise you several times over.” He chuckles. Something sparks behind his eyes like he’s actually keeping something from you. You’ll figure it out. You always do. 

“These are delicious, Joel, but if I take another bite, I’m gonna be sick.”

Joel frowns. “You feeling okay? You don’t have a fever do you?” He presses his fingers to your forehead before you can roll your eyes. 

“Anxiety.”

Joel nods. “You’ve got a little-“ He motions to his mouth.

You cock your head to the side brain not picking up on the obvious signals. He sighs in mock exasperation. Reaching forward, he wipes the whipped cream from your lip with his thumb, pressing the excess to his mouth. The moment catches you off guard, something stirring in the back of your mind as you zero in on the thumb pressed to his lips. 

“You should go get ready.” He says as if nothing happened, taking your plate. “We need to leave in an hour.”

You nod, pushing back from the counter. The weight of the day at hand keeps that moment from playing over and over again on a loop.

”Daddy,” Sarah says. “Isn’t it time for school?”

”You’re going to stay here with Nathaniel and Miss Lacy today. Your aunt and I have some things we have to do.”

”Oh,” Sarah nodded. “Uncle Tommy things?”

You stop, sharing a look with Joel. You’ve tried your best to keep Tommy’s troubles from the kids, but it’s inevitable. Sarah is almost 6 after all. She’s always been incredibly perceptive and observant. 

“Daddy?” Nathaniel asks, looking around. Your heart breaks a little bit. 

Your mind wanders. When will he get to see Tommy again? 

Joel takes the lead when you arrive at the courthouse for which you’re grateful. You’re both dressed in nice clothing. High heels clack beneath you. A tie reaches around Joel’s neck. You hold Tommy’s suit in a garment bag as a guard leads you to an office-like room. Tommy sits at a table with his layer from last night and another man you don’t recognize. They seem to be deep in a serious conversation. 

All three men turn as you enter, making you feel like you’re in the wrong place. You can’t tell if Tommy is relieved to see you or not. A pit forms in your stomach, like you’re not going to like the outcome of this meeting. 

“What’s going on?” You ask. 

The door clicks shut behind you as Joel’s scent creeps around you.

”We’re talking.” Tommy says. 

“About?” You press. 

Tommy sighs, unable to meet your eyes. “A plea deal.” 

You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. This is easier. It’s probably better in the long run, but you’re not ready to face the music. You prepared for court, not a plea deal. Not for Tommy to admit guilt with a stroke of a pen, not a judge in sight. 

“What’s in it?”

”Baby…” Tommy pleads like he wants to make amends right now. 

“What are you signing us up for, Tommy?”

“Two years and a half years. Probation after that.”

You inhale sharply. 

“It’s a good deal,” The man you’ve never seen says. “He’s looking at at least twice that if this goes to court, and he will be convicted if this goes to court.”

You look to Tommy’s lawyer for confirmation. He doesn’t make it obvious but gives you a solid nod. 

“You were about to sign it.” You look at your husband. It’s not a question. 

“Yeah.”

”I’d have appreciated it if you had talked to me first,” you say. 

“You’d have told me to sign it.”

You nod, barely keeping the tears at bay. “Yeah.”

The DA holds a pen out to Tommy. Tommy looks back at you for final permission. You give it, watching that expensive ass pen glides across the paper with Tommy’s chicken scratch of a signature. Your heart breaks with each stroke, crumbling a little more as he dots the I and crosses the T.  

Joel places a hand on your shoulder. The heat spreads, anchoring you to the moment, keeping you afloat as you stare down the barrel of being a single mother yet again. 

Tommy slides the paper back to the DA. He looks them over, tapping them against the table with a satisfied nod as if a family hadn’t been torn apart. 

“You have about 30 minutes before they come to get him.”

”That’s it?” You ask. “We can’t even take him ourselves?”

The DA shrugs like he’s being generous, igniting a deep hatred of him inside you. You don’t even know his name. He holds up the papers before sliding them into his briefcase. “Terms of the plea deal.”

You clutch your fists as he walks out of the room. Tommy’s lawyer slips out with him, and then Joel, leaving just you and Tommy. 

He stands and you finally realize it’s all happening again. You’ll be alone, worrying about your husband though this time for different reasons. 

“Baby, I-” He steps towards you. You don’t move offering zero indication that you register Tommy’s movements. 

He reaches for your hands, but you pull them back. “You weren’t supposed to take the Bonnie and Clyde thing seriously.” 

You fight back tears, turning so he can’t see them. “Pretty sure they both died.”

A humorless laugh leaves your body as you collapse onto a couch, holding your head in your hands. 

Tommy kneels in front of you, slowly peeling your hands from your face, taking them into his. Despite it all, you feel yourself melting into his familiar touch. It only confirms what you are beginning to fear. It doesn’t matter what Tommy does, you’ll always be here waiting for him. He is the love of your life and you would burn the world down to look into his sweet brown eyes and feel his skin against yours. 

You look at him through blurry eyes, sniffing back the congestion gathering in your sinuses. He gives you that crooked smile you love so much, and you feel better despite the weight bearing on your shoulders. The past three years have aged him ten. You suppose time has done the same to you.

Slowly, he presses his lips to your hands. “I know I fucked up. If-” He pauses, swallowing. His thumb plays with the thin gold band on your left hand. “If you’re not waiting for me when I get out I understand.”

You squeeze his hand. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Tommy snorts. “Easily? Just last week you were yelling at me for putting you through hell.”

“Yeah, well…” You run your fingers through his black curls as you sniff back your tears. “You kinda hold my heart in your hands, Tommy Miller. I don’t think I could get it back if I tried.”

He smiles at you. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands creep up your thighs as he rises to his feet. Your back collides with the plush back of the couch as your fingers tangle in his long hair. Tommy presses his tongue into your mouth, a smile growing across your face. This is the first taste of your Tommy you’ve had in months, the one you fell in love with. 

The door opens, and before Tommy can pull away, Joel’s gruff voice echoes through the room. “Prospect of going to jail really puts you two in the mood, huh?” 

Heat surges to your cheeks. You’re not sure why. You and Tommy had been caught in much more compromising positions throughout your relationship.

“Gotta get what I can while I’m still a free man.” Tommy grins at his big brother, pressing another exaggerated kiss to your lips. Joel’s eyes move to the corner of the room. Your smile feels a little more forced after that. 

Your thirty minutes fly at lightning speed. They take Tommy before you’re ready. Any energy you gain from Tommy’s affection is drained the moment he’s led out of sight. You barely catch the look he gives Joel.

”Take care of them.”

Joel nods, gripping his brother’s shoulder. There’s a silent exchange between them. “Take care of yourself.”

 A clerk goes over everything with you and Joel. You’re given a strict list of items you can drop off for Tommy at the prison. You don’t process a word, the weight of it all falling on top of you. You came to the courthouse today expecting an arraignment and bail, not to be kissing your husband goodbye for the next year and change. It feels unfair like something was taken from you. 

Joel is the one who keeps it together. He always keeps it together. He asks the questions and makes note of the important things. He secures the horde of important documents held limply in your hands. 

When the clerk says your name for a second time, or maybe a third, you’re not sure, it snaps you out of the fog. Joel’s eyes are sympathetic as he holds out a pen. His single nod tells you he has all the information in his head. You can sign. You don’t have to think. You sign as flashes of Tommy doing the same filter through your vision. 

The pen drops to the table as you push back headed straight for the nearest exit. You feel like you’re in a dream. Joel catches up, tucking everything you forgot under his arm. He grabs your elbow, steering your aimless body in the right direction. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He knows the answer. 

You feel like a toddler, wandering and lost, relying on Joel’s firm grip to get anywhere. He opens doors and boots you into his pickup, patting the door once it’s closed. The car is warm from the sun. You fumble with the seat belt, but Joel’s calloused hands are there, guiding your weary bones. 

The ride is silent. You basket in the warm sun, head pressed to the window with your eyes closed. The world feels so far away, but you’re extremely tuned into the heat of the sun, the rumble of the truck on the shitty roads, the blinking indicator light, and Joel’s listless tapping on the steering wheel when the vehicle draws to a stop from time to time, toeing the line between consciousness.

This is just a dream, right? You’ll wake up soon and Tommy will be behind you, drawing random patterns around your stomach hip, or thigh. The past year of your life and the past 12 hours have just been the world’s longest nightmare. That’s all. 

The truck lurches to a stop. The engine turns off with a distinct click. Your eyes blink open slowly. Your stretch out, toes curling in your dress shoes. Joel’s tie lays haphazardly on the dash. His cuffs are unbuttoned, pushed to his elbows, and the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt are undone. He still looks out of place in his dress attire, but a little more like himself. He hadn’t dressed this nicely for your and Tommy’s courthouse wedding. 

Your eyes drift out the windshield. A neon light reflects off your irises. This isn’t home. You look at Joel. “Why are we here?”

His seat belt comes undone with a click, snapping back. “We’re going to go in there and get drunk off our asses.”

”It’s the middle of the day.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you. 

”Can we just go home?”

”No.”

”Why the fuck not?”

“Because we have a sitter all day, and you deserve a night before the weight of the world falls back on your shoulders.”

”Joel.” You want to go home and crawl in bed.

”This is three times longer than his deployment.” The statement hits you square in the chest. “You need this. Give yourself today. If you don’t do it now, you never will.”

You sigh, staring down the flickering neon in front of you. He’s right. You know he is. You might be exhausted, but it’s tempting. When was the last time you let go? Maybe that one good month you had after Tommy got back? When it was all making up for lost time and shit. 

“We’ve got a sitter for the whole day,” Joel says. “My treat.”

You inhale deeply, allowing the memories of drunken nights past to fill your brain. You can feel the thrum of alcohol already. You haven’t cut loose in a long time unless you count the nights spent at home alone drowning away the world after you’d tucked your son in for the night. 

Your fingers press the red release button of your seat belt. The metal buckle hits the window. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

Joel smiles, dragging you inside.  

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal

[shadow4-1]

okay but considering Ghosts upbringing in the punk scene, that shit with his father,, how do u think he feels about drugs in general? i mean, im super sure he knows his way around them at the very least

(Based on a true story. CW: Drug Usage)

Simon would always remember that night.

He'd never felt fear like that night. No amount of skull masks, drunken beatings, or near death encounters would ever shake him like that night.

"Have you seen him?" Their mother was beside herself. Simon was used to her babbling and squeals but this time she was nigh incoherent. She scratched at him through his jumper. His skin burned as she tried to shake an answer out of him.

"No, mum." He barely managed out. "Where was 'e last?"

"Th-the path..." She cried. "He wasn't speakin' right!"

Simon immediately knew where Tommy was.

He rushed out of the shithole flat and down the crumbling concrete sidewalks. He ran without thought. Even as his lungs burned from the kilometer sprint, he didn't hesitate.

He ran past the park, behind the strip, and into the woods. Down the path he kept at it. He jumped over the old, toppled willow, and slid down the side of the river's embankment. He could smell the waste and filth of the shanty set up. He tore through shrubbery and brush in the near darkness.

Tommy lay against a boulder, neck bent up towards the sky. His clothes were wet, his skin pasty yet flushed from the chill. Refuse lay strewn about him. A dingy rubberband was tied too tight around his elbow. No one was around.

"Tommy."

He shook his brother hard. He noticed bruising and welts all over Tommy's head and neck. He cradled Tommy's head, lifting his lids to get a look at his blown wide pupils.

"Shit."

Simon pulled out his cell and typed in the landline's number. His mother picked up.

"I've got him. Draw an ice bath."

He hung up.

Simon pulled his little brother into his arms. He carried him back to the flat, stopping occasionally to readjust his hold. It was physically taxing, but he didn't care.

His mother slammed open the door the moment Simon walked up the broken steps. She wailed and tried to pull Tommy out of his arms. He didn't want to shove her back with his shoulder but he didn't have a choice.

He made it into the tiny bathroom and laid Tommy's head down on the bathmat. Simon tried to wake him up again. No response. He glanced into the tub. It was empty.

"Fockin' 'ell, mum!" He screamed at the woman in the doorway. "I told ye' t' get th' fockin' ice!"

Their mother tried to hiccup out a reply but she was still inconsolable. He held Tommy's hand for a second before he got up. He pushed past their mother and ran out into the complex. He banged on door after door.

The neighbors that peeked their heads out at him weren't friends, but mere acquaintances. They knew of him, knew of Tommy, knew of their struggles. They knew of Simon's military background. They knew of his strength. Most of them offered up all of their ice when he nearly begged for it.

None of them offered to call the paramedics.

They knew better than to criticize his judgement.

The pretty young neighbor he'd fancied back in school took it upon herself to round everything up for him. She even managed to convince some of the female residents to call out their sons to help Simon. He reminded himself to marry her when this was all said and done.

He and his neighbors stripped Tommy bare. They drew a bath and threw in the ice. There were far to many bodies in the tiny bathroom but Simon didn't care. Helping hands lowered Tommy into the tub.

The moment Tommy hit the water he screamed. He thrashed and kicked and bellowed like a dying animal. Ice water was flung across the bathroom. The men around him tried to hold Tommy down. He kept screaming and spasming, completely incoherent.

Except he was finally conscious.

Simon cried as he held Tommy down by the chest. He didn't let up even as his brother began to shake from the cold. He didn't let up until Tommy was awake enough to respond to his own name.

Simon's pretty neighbor called the help out of the bathroom. She gave him a soft glance before closing the bathroom door to give them privacy. He reminded himself to marry her tommorow morning.

"Si..."

Tommy's voice was rough and shaky.

Simon pulled Tommy up into a sitting position. They locked eyes for a moment. Simon shook with rage and fear. His voice come out like that of a Ghost.

"You're getting clean."

[ah-ga-seven]

The Naked Neighbor II

>>PART ONE<<

Pairing: Fem!reader x Choi Soobin

Word count: 16,6k

Genre: Smut, Comedy, Fluff, lighthearted Angst.

Synopsis: Life is dull, until a new neighbor moves in across the street. His name was Soobin, a mysterious loner who lived in his own bubble and was incredibly hard to get close to. One night, as y/n was in her bedroom, she saw Soobin through the window, freshly out of the shower in full view, which accounted for a series of interesting events as she notices a pattern in his nightly routine.

Warnings: mature contents regarding sex and especially voyeurism. Further mentions of drugs and alcohol. This story will also contain mentions of broken homes, parental issues and verbally abusive fights.

(A/N) It's been long overdue, but please read part one again if you haven't freshened up your memory, a lot of details from part one are mentioned in part two!

Soobin pulled you into him, guarding you from the atrocious sight that was too late to unsee.  

Your mother had already covered herself up, as did Soobin’s father who was quickly on his feet.  

“Son…” he tried with a soft voice.  

“Shut the fuck up.” Soobin seethed through his teeth.  

Your mother was quiet, carefully eyeing you to study your reaction but when she saw your face buried in Soobin’s chest she knew enough.  

Your breathing started to intensify but whatever alcohol was left in your system gave you the guts to look your mom in the eye with utter shock and disgust written all over your face. “First my mom, now Isabelle?” Soobin questioned as his blood started to boil even more than before.  

“Son..I-”  

“Please…shut up, nothing you’d say right now would make things better.”  

You ignored Soobin and his dad, still staring at your mother in pure disbelief as she looked at you with big guilty eyes. Being disappointed by her was the default setting of your relationship, but knowing that even a marital status didn’t stop her from getting with Soobin’s dad actually made you sick to your stomach.  

“Soobin let’s go.” You tug at his arm as you break eye contact with your mother, avoiding eye contact with his dad altogether.  

“Come on, let’s go.” You drag him out of the house, hearing your mom call for you but you slammed his front door behind yourselves and speed walked towards your house with your arms crossed over your chest. You were trying to walk faster than Soobin with your heart thumping loudly and irregularly from all the adrenaline but he had already caught up to you, hauling you back by your shoulder.  

“Hey, hey y/n.” He turned you around but you couldn’t dare look into his eyes. For some reason, you felt guilty.  

“Soobin I’m…so…so sorry for what my mom did. I can’t even begin to apologize. If you don’t want anything to do with me I totally get it. I-”  

“Hey, woah. Stop. They’re both at fault. My dad is, just as much as your mom. Nothing we said or did could’ve predicted this.”  

You bite your lip, staring at the liveliness in your house from just meters away. “I don’t want to go back in there,” you whisper, getting choked up. “What do we even say.” You were starting to panic a little. “We can’t stay here either, what if they come after us? I-I don’t w-wanna talk to them.”  

Soobin watched the brims of your eyes fill with tears, making his own widen in response. “Come here.” He pulled you towards him mindlessly, enveloping you in his warm embrace and all you could do was give in. You nuzzled your nose in his neck, inhaling his scent as you wrapped your arms around him too. It calmed you down fast enough because for once you weren’t alone.  

You were not ready for the aftermath of all of this. You never wanted to see your mom again, let alone talk to her.  

“There you guys are…woah…everything okay?” Beomgyu walked towards the two of you from the porch, noticing the tears in your eyes. He froze, not fully grasping reality since he was drunk himself. You quickly untangled yourself from Soobin and shot him a look that he immediately understood. Lie.  

Soobin straightened out his back, giving Beomgyu a reassuring smile. “She’s just emo because she loves you guys so much.”  

Beomgyu’s jaw dropped, smirking as he enveloped you in a hug. “AWHHH, me too.” You inhaled sharply, feeling the cool midnight breeze pierce through your nostrils as all the air got knocked out of your lungs from the tight hold he had on you.  

You awkwardly patted Gyu’s back until he let go of you in the weird chokehold-like hug he had you trapped in. He stumbled a step back, assessing both of you from head to toe. “No drinks?” he asks disappointed, throwing his hand up to his forehead to add dramatics.  

“No.” it was a swift and unified response from both you and Soobin, which had Beomgyu moping.  

“Ugh, well… most people are leaving anyway it's already 3 am.”  

Silence took over the atmosphere for a few painful seconds but it felt like forever in your head. You quickly snapped out of it though. Straightening out your posture after taking a quick glance at Soobin who was lost in thought as well.  

“H-hey. Beomgyu. Can we crash at yours?” you ask giving Beomgyu a hopeful look, hoping his intoxication wouldn’t question you.  

“Why? You literally live here.”  

Shit.  

“I know I just…” you pause for a second, taking a quick glance at Soobin who was giving you just as much of a confused expression as Beomgyu. “I don’t want to be alone in the house with all the mess everywhere.”  

You were a horrible liar. And Beomgyu noticed how you weren’t telling him the whole story. Something about the look in your eyes screamed of desperation. You really didn’t want to be home. And apparently, Soobin’s house wasn’t an option either.  

“Sure.” Beomgyu sighed, deciding not to go against you. He’ll find out later, and from the looks of it, it wasn’t Soobin at fault so who cares.  

You looked visibly relieved, as did Soobin who hooked an arm around your waist so you’d turn to him once Beomgyu stumbled back inside the house without giving the two of you a second glance.  

“Are you okay?” Soobin asked, his gaze softening once your eyes locked.  

“No. And neither are you. I’m in survival mode right now I don’t know what to do or think.” You sigh throwing your head back, kicking a random rock on the sidewalk.  

“Why can’t I have nice things happen to me for once,” you groaned.  

Soobin snorted, looking back at his house with a heavy heart which made his smile drop. If it wasn’t for you he would’ve gone back inside and punched his dad in the face. After everything, he still found new ways to fuck up. Hell, Soobin even started to feel bad for Isabelle.  

He scrunched his nose. “Should we just go to Beomgyu’s now? I’m not trying to linger around much longer for them to run after us.” He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, the sweet gesture pulling you out of the depths of your mind, mustering up your last bit of energy to crack a slight smile for him.  

“Yeah, let’s leave.”  

Luckily Beomgyu’s parents were on a trip to visit Gyu’s grandparents over the weekend cause it saved you A LOT of explaining and well…lying. The spare key was where it always was which made entering his house a no-brainer.  

You turned on the lights and took off your shoes, letting Soobin explore a bit in silence as you made some tea. After a minute he found you in the kitchen, taking out cups from the cabinet to then pour some hot water into both of them. “You really know your way around here.” Soobin remarks, sitting down on one of the barstools at the breakfast bar.  

“Yeah, I basically grew up in this house.”  

“Hmm…” Soobin once again realized the depth of your friendship with Beomgyu. He knew he had nothing to worry about but it was safe to say that he had a slight pinch of jealousy for the history you had with him and your other friends. He wished he could say he knew you better than them. But he didn’t…not yet at least.  

“What’s up?” you place the cup in front of him as you lean on your elbows opposite of where he was standing,  giving him a confused pout when you sense a change in his body language.  

He looked at you with a coy smile, slowly shaking his head as he fiddled with his fingers. “I was just thinking we’re not even that close.”  

You deadpanned at him, blinking in confusion. “You…you’ve seen me naked.”  

He snorted. “I know! But I mean, like I barely know you. The dumb trivial shit. From your favorite movie genres to your most embarrassing childhood stories, I want to know It all. I want to know you.”  

You looked at him with endearment, you could tell how sincere he was as he slipped back into his own train of thought. He has never felt this way about someone before. Liking someone so much so that it makes you openly desperate wasn’t really Soobin’s approach to dating. Usually, he’s the one being pushed around and sought after but you were different. If you’d ask him to jump, he’d ask you how high which basically meant that he was down bad.  

“I like dramas but also scary movies, and when I was seven years old I peed my pants during gym class. Luckily no one noticed but it was still really, really embarrassing.” Soobin looked at you with wide eyes, suppressing an obnoxious laugh that was boiling in his throat. Instead, he just huffed as the corners of his mouth curled upwards.  

“When I was 9 I slipped and fell face first into a puddle in front of my elementary school crush. She just laughed at me and I was so embarrassed that I started rolling around in the puddle to make it look intentional.” Soobin confessed, making you clutch your hand over your own mouth as you doubled over in laughter. He smiled with sparkles in his eyes as he watched your face contort with joy again after everything that happened tonight, and that’s how the rest of the next hour or so was spent. Telling each other stories about yourselves that didn’t matter anymore, though they did shape you into the people you were today. And, truth be told it was exactly the type of distraction that both of you so desperately needed right now.  

It was almost as if you two were going backwards. You were emotionally connecting with a one-night stand after the physical connection was formed, but there was so much more to your relationship already prior to sleeping together, so your dynamic was odd, to say the least.  

It was like hanging with an old friend, who you have a mutual crush on, but don’t know much about even though you’ve already made core memories with him. Hell, you even shared a traumatic night together already.  

Yeah…weird.  

Your conversation went on and on, shifting from the kitchen to the living room and by now the two of you had fallen asleep on opposite ends of the couch with both of your legs entangled.  

The sight was quite adorable from Beomgyu’s point of view who came home just a minute ago. He smiled softly as he draped a blanket over the two of you, leaving to go upstairs to shower and go to bed himself.  

“Dude I can’t believe you dipped like that. What the fuck happened? I get you’re horny and all but your mom literally came home in hysterics asking us where you were. She looked so worried and you didn’t answer your damn phone either.”  

You were awake for all of 5 minutes when you ran into Yeonjun in Beomgyu’s kitchen. You didn’t even know how he or when he got to the house, but you could only assume he came to find you because he was pissed, rightfully so.  

You opened your mouth and closed it again, not really knowing if Soobin wanted people to know about what happened yet.  

“If a lie comes out of your mouth, y/n. I swear to god.” Yeonjun growled.  

You stare at your fingers as you fiddled with them, not even noticing that Beomgyu came downstairs to join the conversation at the sound of Yeonjun’s nagging.  

He stood beside Yeonjun, ears perking up when he heard the shuffles of Soobin’s footsteps as he approached the three of you in the kitchen.  

You look up as you feel his presence next to you, and somehow you feel relief wash over your body. Even though he made your heart beat faster every time he was close to you, you also felt at peace with him in the room.  

“Wanna tell them?” Soobin asks you as he rests his hand on your lower back.  

Yeonjun gave both of you a look after searching for answers in Beomgyu’s eyes, but he just shrugged at his older friend, letting him know that this whole thing was a mystery to him too.  

You pout, raking your hand through your hair as your mouth becomes dry. “We uhm…” you start, but fall silent again trying to collect your thoughts.

“Babe, the suspense,” Yeonjun says crossing his arms to show his lack of patience, and that’s when Soobin took it upon himself to rip the inevitable band-aid off.  

“We walked in on our parents…having sex.” He says before pursing his lips together in anticipation of their reaction.  

You close your eyes at Soobin’s words. Feeling anger boil in your stomach at the thought of the cursed images in your head and the fact that you were going to have to face your mom sooner or later.  

Beomgyu’s eyes dangerously protruded out of his skull as Yeonjun’s hand clasped over his mouth to muffle a bewildered gasp. This is the last thing they expected to come out of your mouths.  

“There ain’t no way…how? What…” Beomgyu was left speechless for what seemed to be the first time in his fucking life and Yeonjun’s gaze immediately softened as he laid eyes on you. “You’re joking, is this a joke? Cause it ain’t funny.” Yeonjun tried to laugh but your stoic response made him realize you weren’t joking at all.  

“Y-your mom? With his dad?” Yeonjun asks pointing from you to Soobin and all you could do was nod avoiding eye contact.  

“Damn guys…that’s fucked. I don’t know what else to say.” Yeonjun says with a pout as he grabs your hand over the counter, squeezing it for assurance as a way of telling you that he’s here for you.  

“…Isn’t your dad like…married?” Beomgyu spits out without thinking. Yeonjun shot Beomgyu a glare but Soobin simply nodded for a lack of knowing what else to say. “Dad of the year am I right,” he says shrugging his feelings away. “I’m dreading going back there,” he adds looking at you to see you lost in thought. “Me too.” Your voice was almost inaudible, and watching you so pained by the whole situation made Beomgyu want to step in and do something to cheer you up.  

“You two can stay here, I just need to figure out what to tell my parents,” Beomgyu suggests, his tapioca pearl pupils seemed to grow with excitement by the thought of having you two move in here but it was short-lived.  

“No, I’m the worst liar. Thank you for the offer though.” Soobin says scratching the back of his neck.  

“Booo.” Beomgyu huffs giving you both a childish thumbs down, followed by a smack on his arm from Yeonjun. “But I get it. Totally.” Beomgyu quickly corrects himself, rubbing his tingling arm before giving Yeonjun a kittenish angry scowl.  

Soobin scoffed in amusement as you chuckle at the two of them before sharing your thoughts. “It’s going to raise suspicion. Plus, our moms are friends. She’ll call her immediately and I don’t want anyone to find out. This town is too small for something as big as this.”  

“Yeah. If Gyu’s mom knows, Tae’s mom knows, and if Tae’s mom knows Huening’s mom knows, and if Huening’s mom knows, my mom knows, and then the whole town will know.”  Yeonjun says dramatically counting his fingers with each one of their moms added to the list.  

“Then you take after your mom, for sure.” Beomgyu retorts rolling his eyes.  

“Proudly, and what about it,” Yeonjun argues, letting his index finger push Beomgyu’s forehead away.  

“Damn, it’s that serious?” Soobin asked wide-eyed, to which you all just nodded.  

“This town is like a gossip girl spin-off.” Yeonjun chuckled.  

You bite your lip, looking at the three of them. “I don’t think we have much of a choice other than to go home and…deal with it.”  

Soobin anxiously nodded at your statement. Sighing as he threw his head back in defeat. “Can’t wait...”  

You paced back and forth in front of your house for a good minute before entering, but just like you suspected already from the missing car in front; your mom wasn’t home.

You sighed in relief, and quickly inspected the after-party damage but to your surprise, the place was left spotless. You inwardly simped for your friends as you stood motionless in the middle of your living room, taking a mental note to thank Hueningkai and Taehyun for staying behind to clean up.  

You fluffed a random pillow and bit your lip, wondering if Soobin made it past the front door already. Just as you were going up to your room, the front door opened which made you freeze in place in the middle of the staircase. The sound of her heels on the hardwood floor confirmed it was your mom, followed by the sound of her voice.  

“Y/n!” she gasped, not expecting to see you back so soon. You tried to jolt back upstairs but your mom literally launched herself forward in an attempt to grab your ankle, which she did. You nearly tripped over, turning your torso towards her to send daggers at her through your eyeballs. “Really!?”  

“Next time you run away from home at least tell me where you’re going.”  

“That defeats the purpose of running away.”  

“Sweetie…”  

“Don’t sweetie me, I don’t want to talk to you. Let go of me so I can shower and ignore you for the rest of my life.” You were still spread out on the stairs with your mom clasped around your leg like a koala holding on to its sacred branch. It must’ve been a funny sight to see, but you wanted her off. You started to shake your leg with her still wrapped around it, and when you accidentally hit her in the nose she finally let go.  

“Ouch, you little shit.” She let go of you and got back on her feet again, giving you an annoyed scowl.  

“Deserved. Period. Maybe you won’t stick your nose in other people’s marriages now,” you tell her, knitting your eyebrows together to look extra mad. 

“…Oh y/n. Don’t make me the bad guy. I just took the bait. Don’t think I’m the only other woman he’s slept with during his marriage.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes.  

“…What.”  

“He’s a serial cheater. A piece of shit, but a hot one though. I won’t do it again if that’s what you want to hear. I’m sorry you had to see that.” She nodded, blinking slowly like a cat trying to show affection, but you shot her the same unamused glare from before.  

“I don’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth mom.” You give her a stoic look, not knowing whether to believe the first or latter part of her twisted apology.  

“Then don’t baby,” she shrugged, straightening out her dress as she walks down the stairs. “Dinner’s in the fridge buttercup.” She yells out before disappearing into the living room.  

You were holding onto the stair railing for dear life, frustration overriding your emotions. It was always like this. She’d brush over every disappointing situation with an insincere apology followed by pretending as if nothing ever happened. It’s like she doesn’t comprehend the depth of her actions and that they don’t just revolve around her alone. She made Soobin’s dad out to be the sole antagonist and even if he did sleep around, it doesn’t make your mom’s part in this whole ordeal any less significant.  

You were used to your mom and her antics. Her inability to feel for anyone but you and herself but it never affected people you cared for before, until now.  

She never stopped to think about how this affects you, Soobin, or Isabelle. How it could potentially wreck Soobin’s already broken home. Even though she knew everything he had been through she still decided to take part in ruining his life some more and that alone made you hate her.  

Angry fumes started to burn your earlobes. She’s not sorry she did it. She’s sorry she got caught.  

You dragged yourself up the stairs, wondering if your ability to feel empathy came from your deadbeat dad who abandoned you as a kid but that thought alone made zero sense.  

Maybe you were adopted.  

You looked at yourself in the mirror, sighing as you splashed some cold water in your face but when you came back up and saw the resemblance you had to both your mom and dad you nearly broke the mirror with your fist. The brims of your eyes filled with tears as you balled your fists on the counter, biting your lip until you tasted iron.  

You stepped out of your clothes and set the water temperature of your shower at a literal lava setting, hoping that the steam would not only clear out your sinuses but your mind.  

You had no idea what to do next, but all that you could really do was be brutally honest with Soobin and hope for the best as you continued to ignore your mothers’ existence. Your heart hurts for him more than ever, especially since he will start feeling the aftermath now that he’s decided to go home.  

Soobin didn’t even hesitate to walk into the house, his non-confrontational nature vanished when he saw his dad on that godforsaken couch, reading with his glasses on the tip of his nose bridge as if nothing happened. He took big strides over to him, ready to yell at his father and demand an explanation but a voice broke him out of his fury.  

“Oh, Soobin. You’re back.” Isabelle smiled at him. “Your dad said you were staying at a friend's? How was the party?”  

Soobin’s dad looked at Soobin with dilated, scared yet strict pupils. He was silently telling him to lie for his sake and looking at Isabelle’s twinkly pupils, Soobin just couldn’t get himself to continue. “Uhm…it was fun. Took a different turn towards the end of the night though.”  

He gave his dad a look with pursed lips and watched as his fathers’ shoulders tensed up. “Oh, what do you mean?” Isabel walked over, setting down a plate with cut fruits for both of them.  

Soobin took a piece from the plate, biting into it as he remained eye contact with his dad. It was a subconscious move to show that his dad had no business being relaxed now that Soobin’s back home.  

He won’t say shit with Isabelle around, just because he cared about her feelings. But once she’s out of view shit was going to go down.  

He forgot Isabelle was still waiting for Soobin to respond so he quickly looked back at her, though she was already onto something.  

“Did you guys get into a fight again?”  

Soobin simply shook his head and that’s when his dad got up, walking towards Isabelle to place a kiss on her temple. “No hon, nothing to worry about. I’m going to take a shower so we can go to your parents later today.”  

“Ah, so you didn’t forget?” Isabelle smiled at him, it was almost pathetic how in love she looked.  

Soobin’s eyes turned sad and looked away as he bit his lip. “Uhm, do you guys mind if I stay in? I have a lot of homework I need to finish.”  

Isabelle looked at Soobin a tad disappointed but nodded, giving him a quick pat on the back. “You always work so hard. Don’t forget to eat okay.”    

Soobin nodded as watched his dad move up the stairs without a word, followed by Isabel who had to get ready as well.  

He sighed, throwing his large self on the couch before realizing what happened here. He stiffened and rolled right off, suppressing a gag as he made his way to the kitchen quickly to quench his disgust with tasty snacks.  

He opened a bag of random sweets, sitting at the breakfast bar as he angrily chewed on the way too sugary biscuits. This house was a ticking time bomb, and he had to get out before he’d get buried in the ruins of it.  

You stared at the mess that was your bedroom with loss. Not knowing where to start with cleaning. Naturally, you moved all the mess to your bed and started putting things away accordingly. Once your sheets were revealed under all the mess, instant butterflies kicked in when you remembered what happened on them last night.  

You bite your lip, slipping into a daydream before you knew it you were already texting him.  

[Y/N, 5:56 PM]: Hi 👀  

[Y/N, 5:56 PM]: How’d it go?  

[Soobin,  5:57 PM]: Hey ☺️

[Soobin,  5:57 PM]: Isabel was home so I didn’t really get a word in. I couldn’t do that to her. I want him to fess up himself yk. Buttt,they left for some dinner a few minutes ago so I haven’t seen him really.  

[Soobin, 5:57 PM]: What I don’t get is how he can lie and pretend so fucking easily. It’s scary. It’s like don’t know who he is anymore.  

[Y/N, 5:58 PM]: ugh, I can’t. this is so messed up...  

[Soobin, 5:58 PM]: And you? How are things with your mom?  

[Y/N, 5:58 PM]: She’s…my mom. So, she gives me one insincere apology and pretends as if nothing happened. She even tried to blame your dad for all of it.  

[Soobin, 5:58 PM]: Damn…how so?

[Y/N, 5:59 PM]: I’ll tell you later, just don’t get how I came out of someone like her  

[Soobin, 5:59 PM]: Hmm ok, and same here. Can we talk about something else? Anything else? I would like some normalcy today.

You sigh, looking at your closed curtains, immediately getting the best worst idea ever. You walked over and ripped them open, seeing Soobin at his desk in front of his window.  

Really…he’s still living curtainless. STILL!?  

You shake your head, looking down at your phone again, and started typing.  

[Y/N, 6:01 PM]: Look up.  

As you press send you excitedly awaited his response and that’s when your eyes locked through your windows. A mischievous smile crept on his cute ass lips. He cockily leaned back in his chair and proceeded to rake his hand through his hair.  

He averted his attention back to his phone and looked your way again when your phone buzzed in your palm.  

You boldly kept eye contact until he lifted his phone up to your view, pointing at it to tell you to look.  

[Soobin, 6:02 PM]: cute jammies, what are those? Teddy bears?  

You looked down at your childish pajama set and felt your ears heat up. You didn’t even realize that you were wearing your most sexless sleepwear and laughed, doing random poses for him as you modeled your cute little outfit.  

Soobin bit his lip, chuckling at your antics with an amused glint in his eyes.  

You quickly grab your phone.  

[Y/N, 6.04 PM]: Don’t leave me hanging, show me your jammies.

Soobin looked from his phone to you with a dumbfounded look, giving you a  sassy smirk before he sent you another message.  

[Soobin, 6.05 PM]: Can’t do that. I sleep nude.

He eyed your reaction from afar and when your eyes got big as you look from your screen to him, he folded in laughter.  

You pout at him, giving him a thumbs down closer to the window this time while mouthing a stretched-out ‘Booo’  

He rolled his eyes at you, getting up to get closer to the window. You didn’t know what he was doing when you cocked your head to the side in confusion, watching him intently with a playful smirk.  

Soobin then lifted up his shirt, showing you his bare chest before sending you a sarcastic flying kiss and it had you rolling your eyes at him this time. He laughed at you. His eyes disappearing into crescent moons as he clapped his large ass hands together with glee.  

Oh it’s on. Mischief took over on your side of the window. You looked around the neighborhood but no one seemed to be around and that’s when you decided to just do what you initially intended to do.  

You maintained eye contact and lifted your top up, showing your bare boobs to him on full display for two good seconds as you mimicked his teasing from before. You dropped your top back down and watched his face go full tomato as his mouth fell agape. You were laughing so hard that you had to double over in order to catch a breath and that’s when your phone started buzzing in your pocket.  

You pick up with giggles, still enjoying the look on his face while he was frantically looking around to check if there were any neighbors out on the streets. “y/n!”  

Your laugh died down slowly. “Ahh, you should’ve seen your face.”  

“Omg, what if someone saw you? Are you crazy?”  

“Look who’s talking, you still don’t have blinds.”  

“It’s a delivery issue, they’ll be here soon” he pinched his eyes shut at a loss for words, looking at you rather lost soon after. “I- you’re insane.”  

“Dude. You mooned me on the first day, I just paid you back. We’re even now.” You smirked, but you watched Soobin grow more frustrated on his side of the window.  

“First off I wasn’t aware and SECOND, No, we’re not.” He growled pressing himself against the window.  

You lean forward to show some cleavage, unbuttoning the first button to give him even more of a show. “Why?” you coyly ask, biting your lip as you pressed your goods against the glass. “How bout’ now?”  

You watched him try to keep cool but the tent that was forming in his sweats was giving you the impression that it wasn’t working. He was flustered, yet didn’t want to lose control so easily.  

He licked his lips, staying silent for a second as he moved his phone from one ear to the other.  

“Get over here so I can suck on those titties.”  

His voice was low, serious, and demanding enough to make your knees grow weak.  

You choke on air, eyes growing wide as you swallow harshly. “U-uhm wow…C-can you give me like…3 minutes.”  

“3, not more.” He smirked at you and all you could do was nod as you watched him hang up the phone and walk out of his room.  

You quickly closed your curtains, changing into leggings and a top as fast as you could before collecting your toothbrush from the bathroom. You sprinted down the stairs, putting on your sneakers and a big ass trench coat that had pockets big enough for your phone, keys, toothbrush, and a set of fresh underwear.  

As your front door closed, his own opened. Soobin watched you cutely run over with soft smiles and giggles exchanged between the two of you. It was…disgustingly cute.  

Once you reached his front porch he lifted you off your feet, crashing his lips into yours as you clung onto his torso by wrapping your legs around his hips.  

The two of you made out as he walked both of you back into the house, crashing your back against the inside of his now-closed front door. You could barely see in the darkness of his hallway, letting your eyes get used to the dim lighting as his lips sensually moved against your own.  

His pillowy soft lips were tracing chaste kisses from your jaw to your chest and that’s when he ripped the coat off of you in one swift motion. His hands hungrily grabbed on to massage your boobs under your shirt when your lips reconnected with his own.  

It was messy but so good as you moaned into his mouth once his cold thumbs rolled against your nipples. “Fuck.” You huffed, rolling your core onto his hips to create the friction you so desperately longed for.  

Soobin grinned against your lips, leaning his forehead against yours as he lead you into the kitchen area. He propped you up on the counter of their breakfast bar and situated himself between your legs again. He bent his neck down to kiss you some more, slowly guiding his hands up and down your thighs. You were so out of breath that you broke the kiss, looking up at him through your lashes. He felt his heart swell as you did, smiling at him shyly before hiding your face in his chest. Damn you were cute. Fucking adorable to be exact.  

He chuckled and toyed with the hem of your top before lifting it over your head. Quickly discarding of the useless item of clothing and immediately got busy with your boobs, kissing and sucking on them just like he promised to. Your eyes lulled back, enjoying the divine feeling as a few strained moans left your lips. He stopped in his tracks, creating some distance to look at your body.  

“Shit.” He cursed, smiling down at you in complete awe of how gorgeous you looked right now. You returned the smile, your fingers nimbly curling around the waistband of his sweats and Calvins. “I want these off…” you whisper in his ear, making every hair on his neck stand up straight as a chill runs down his spine. “I still haven’t sucked your dick.” You confidently state, reminiscing back to what he said to you last night. “Blowjobs can wait” well…not anymore.  

“Then get to it” he mused, patting your hair adoringly as he tilted your chin upwards to look at him with his index finger.  

You paused for a second, “H-here?” you say looking around his large kitchen. It had a similar layout to yours, the only difference was that it had no windows. Thank god.  

“Well we can’t really go into my room unless you’re still into that whole voyeurism thing…so-”  

You shut him up with yet another kiss, pinching his cheeks together with your thumb and index finger as you guided your tongue into his mouth sensually and slowly. He closed his eyes for a second until you disconnected your lips from his, still pinching his cheeks together with a seductive smile on your shiny and absolutely swollen lips.  

“Where do you want me?”  

“On your knees.” His reply was short and hot enough to get you going as you let go of his face until he interrupted you. “But be careful, it’s a tile floor your knees might bruise.”  

You snorted, finding it cute how his sweetness always seemed to shine through even in sinful moments like these. “I don’t mind a few bruises.” You challenge him as you got down on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes and that visual alone pumped every drop of blood in his body straight to his dick.  

“You’re blue balling me.” He complained.  

“I’m not doing shit.”  

“That’s the problem.” He says and you chuckle lowly, finally pulling down his sweats when his hard, angry, and humongous dick springs free. It hadn’t even been 24 hours but you already forgot how big he actually was, and suddenly your confidence disappeared. Does your mouth even open wide enough to take him?  

“Hey.” He caressed your cheek with his thumb. “It’s okay, just go slow. It’s not like I’ll immediately shove it down your throat or anything.”  

“Hot, but no thanks. Not yet.” He scoffed at you playfully and you gulped, holding his shaft tightly. He was heavy in your palm and you weren’t shy to grab his whole sex from below his balls, propping him up for you nicely. He watched you closely, his gaze softening once your eyes found his again. You started collecting some spit in your mouth to then coat his tip with some so you could lubricate his length with your hand, twisting your wrist around to cover more of him. The friction wasn’t much but Soobin’s eyes were already closing, hearing a content sigh escape from his lips.  

You kept your eyes on him, licking from the start of his shaft to his tip to then take it into your mouth slowly. Sucking on just the head as you held his cock in place, eyeing how hot he looked as you slowly started to take him further into your mouth.  

You were fastening your pace and alternated from sucking, to licking and adding handwork when you felt like he needed the extra stimulation. You could tell the buildup was just right as he slowly started to lose control with being gentle, desperately rocking his hips forward from time to time as you did your thing.  

His moans were filling the room, bouncing off the walls in echo’s so soft and hot that it motivated you to take him further into your throat. He took a fistful of your hair, slowly guiding himself in and out of your mouth as he enjoyed the sloppy wet sounds of your suppressed little gags.  

He suddenly pulled out completely, taking over to pump himself really fast as he hovered his tip over your mouth. “S-shit baby, I-I’m-” he couldn’t even finish his sentence, you moaned to motivate him, placing your palms on his thighs, squeezing your eyes shut to prepare for what was to come and that’s when he coated your tongue, and chin with white spurts of his cum.    

You opened your eyes again, watching him see stars as he threw his head back for a second while he pumped out his high. It wasn’t long before you made eye contact though. Your sinful smile with strings of his manliness dripping down your lips almost made him cum a second time. He guided the lost droplets into your mouth with his tip so you sucked on it one last time, letting go with a pop while swallowing his load completely like a big girl.  

“Fuck…y/n, what the hell are you doing to me. Shit.” He kept cursing as he sweetly caressed your cheek again. You giggled and got up on your feet, turning around to rip off a piece of paper towel that was situated behind you on the counter and wiped your face and chest but it didn’t really do much. Soobin had literal twinkles in his eyes seeing the absolute mess he made of you, straight up looking like his personal hentai fantasy. “Damn,” he hummed contently trying to regulate his breathing so he could calm the fuck down.  

“I think I need another shower.” You sigh, looking down at yourself to assess the damage and once you locked eyes you both erupted in laughter.  

He laced his finger through yours, placing a sweet kiss on top of your hand.  

“I’ll lead the way.”  

After round two in the shower and round three under the sheets of his bed you knocked the fuck out. You were still situated on his chest when you slowly regained consciousness, but somehow waking up felt like hell. You were so disoriented and sore that it took you a minute to realize you weren’t in your own bed. You lifted your head from Soobin’s chest to look around but immediately regretted it. Squinting your burning eyes to get used to the obliterating amount of sunlight coming in through the window. How does he even sleep without blinds, you were seriously contemplating on dragging his ass to the nearest Ikea to come up with a temporary solution.  

Lost in grumpy thought you looked up at Soobin who was still sound asleep, his arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, the sheets barely covering him since you stole most of it in your sleep. His bunny lips were parted slightly, and from his breathing alone you could tell he was still far gone in dreamland. You couldn’t help but notice his beauty, softly smiling to yourself as you brush a piece of hair out of his eyes. You decided to let him sleep some more so you rested your head again, pressing your cheek flat against his chest with your eyes fluttering shut in peace but that same peace was soon disturbed when you heard voices coming from the hallway.  

“Is he ok? He usually doesn’t sleep in this late.” Isabelle’s voice was crystal clear and you were immediately alerted.  

Shit.  

Fuck.  

No.  

Please don’t check on him, please don’t check on him.  

“Should I check on him?” she asked again and that’s when you heard his dad’s voice.  

“No, let him sleep. Maybe he studied till late.”  

Your whole body relaxes as you let out a sigh of relief when you hear them walk down the staircase. You sit up, deciding to wake Soobin up because you still needed to have an actual conversation with him about your mothers’ accusations regarding his dad’s infidelity streak throughout his marriage.  

You seriously didn’t even know how to start, but waking him from his slumber was step one.  

“Hey.” You whisper as you shake him gently, but it only resulted in him mumbling something you didn’t quite understand as he stole the covers off of you, fully wrapping himself like a burrito as he turned his back to you. You chuckle, sitting up on your knees to violently shake him by grabbing onto his shoulders.  

“Wake uuuuuuuup” you nudge his back with your knee this time and that made him jolt right up, almost making you fall off the bed completely.  

He yelped but you quickly clasped your hand over his mouth as he stared at you in bewilderment. “Your parents.” You whispered as you took your hand off of his mouth and that’s when it struck him. “Fuck.”  

“Yeah.” You stare at his bedroom door for a second and almost scream out loud when you felt his cold hands wrap around your waist. He pulled you closer, moving you under him as he covered both of you with the blanket from head to toe. You were stuck beneath him in his makeshift fort and felt him nuzzle his face in your neck. “Now we’re invisible.” He muttered in his low sleepy voice, making you smile in defeat as you started to play with his hair.  

You felt your heart swell in your chest, realizing just how much of a simp you were. Fuck you might just be…falling in love.  

It’s like he noticed how hard your heart was pounding in your chest because he started rubbing your back in calming up and down motions and then it hit you like a brick wall.  

You haven’t felt this save in a man’s arms since…you were a kid.  

“I don’t want to get up.” He mumbled lost in thought, making you look up at him through your lashes. “Me neither.”  

You reluctantly let go of him, sitting up as you removed the covers from yourself and stared into nothingness for a second. Soobin eyed you carefully, putting his hand on your back for comfort. “You don’t have to talk to him or even look at him, I can easily sneak you out, it’s okay.” He was assuming you were stressed about seeing his dad again after everything but the actual thing you were stressed about was telling Soobin what your mom told you.  

You looked back at him and gave him a soft smile, grabbing his hand as you traced his veins gently. “Soobin I’m starting to really fucking like you.” You whisper with a slight crack in your voice which definitely didn’t go unnoticed.  

He sat up immediately, pouting at you as he pulled you close to him. “Ahwww” he furrowed his eyebrows. “Don’t worry okay? Me too. Me three. I do, I really do.” He smiled at you fondly, patting your hair before getting up out of bed. There was something so soft about his masculinity. He wasn’t scared to be affectionate or straightforward. It was one of his qualities you loved most which is what made you so comfortable around him.  

He quickly put sweatpants on and a random shirt he had laying around to then collect your scattered clothes around the room for you, handing them over to you with a shy smile and you instantly melted. You took the articles of clothing from his hold with both hands, and got up to get dressed, contemplating how to start a sudden loaded conversation with him. He watched you carefully, afraid you were going to vanish into thin air for some reason.  

It was scary how much he hated the idea of living here before, and now he couldn’t imagine ever leaving just because he met you. “I wish my mom got to meet you.” It slipped out of his mouth before he could even really think about it but that comment caught you off guard more than it should have.  

“I-” you swallowed harshly. “Me too.” Your eyes turned sad for a second and he immediately regretted what he said. “Ah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to get all emo on you.”  

Your eyes widened. “Don’t apologize. You’re allowed to miss her Soobin. I really wish I could’ve gotten to know her too, so I could thank her for birthing you. ” you giggled which made  Soobin sigh in relief at your words, giving you a shy smile before he averted his attention to the sudden buzzing of both of your phones.  

Soobin checked his phone, and to his surprise he was added to a group chat with you and your friends, all of them wondering how you two were doing as they spammed both of you with multiple texts. He sighed, showing you the chat once you were completely dressed.  

“They’re asking questions.”  

“Of course they are…” You quickly grab your phone, letting them know that you will talk to them at Uni tomorrow to shut them up for a while. You set your phone down beside you, looking at Soobin as he did the same.  

You bit your lip. “Soobin.”  

“Hmm?” he sat next to you on the bed, biting the inside of his cheek as he waited for you to start talking. “Remember last night when I told you that my mom tried to blame your dad for what happened…”  

Soobins ears perked up, and his body language completely changed, he nodded, waiting for you to continue.  

“While that…of course isn’t completely true, she did tell me that…apparently your dad is like…a serial cheater…” you wish that sentence came out of your mouth more coherently but looking at how Soobin’s whole body tensed up you recon that it wouldn’t have made a difference in outcome.  

“What?” his tone was so different from how he usually talks that it sent chills down your spine. You pouted. “My mom is a lot of things but she’s not a liar…she wouldn’t accuse him of something this big if she didn’t have proof.”  

Soobin closed his eyes, anger filling his whole body as he started to shake. You tried to put a hand on his shoulder but before you knew it he jolted out of the room in a split second.  

Your eyes widened, unsure of what was about to go down but you didn’t hesitate and ran right after him. He nearly flew down the stairs, angrily stomping through the house to find his dad and Isabel at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. 

Both of their eyes widened, and his dad immediately knew something was up. Right then Soobin grabbed him by his collar, easily lifting him off the chair and pushing him against the refrigerator door like a ragdoll. He was seething. Absolutely fuming.

“SOOBIN!” Isabelle got on her feet just as quickly and that’s when she saw you equally as stressed and scared as her. She was even more confused as she locked eyes with you, not knowing when or how you got here.  

“Soobin let go…please” you carefully tried but the sound of your voice made Soobin crash his dad’s back into the fridge even harder this time. “YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT!” He spits out. His dad was scared by now but how could he not be? His perfect lie was about to unravel.  “First my mom and now her huh!? Were you going to sleep with this whole town and hope Isabel dies of cancer too so you can fuck up a different family this time!?”  

Oh my god.  

“You’re not even denying it.” Soobin’s voice softened as he watched his father struggle to breathe in his hold.  

He soon let go of him, disgust was written all over his face as he calmly turned to Isabelle, followed by some violent coughs coming from his father’s throat. Your eyes quickly darted to him to see if he was ok, but your attention shifted when Soobin started talking again.  

“I’m sorry Isabelle. But my father slept with y/n’s mother the night of the party, on that couch.” He pointed at the living room cocking an eyebrow as he casually announced the news. And all you could do was watch as Isabelle’s whole world fell apart. You saw something break in her eyes as her gaze redirected to Soobin’s dad who was awfully quiet. Frozen in place with his back still glued to the fridge even though Soobin had already let go of him.  “And apparently there have been many more.” He continued, cocking his head to the side with a bitter smile.  

You couldn’t believe you were witnessing this. Your eyes scanned all of their faces at once as you stood frozen on your feet.  

“Is it true?” you heard Isabelle’s voice crack.  

Soobin wasn’t sticking around for the aftermath, he brushed past them and for a second you thought he was going to leave you there but he dragged you with him into the hallway and that’s when the yelling match started between them.  

You winced as you heard glass break, your eyes widening in shock and disbelief after everything that just went down. “S-Soobin I’m so sorry.”  

He was putting on his shoes, giving you a look. “None of this is your fault.” He said getting back up to look you in your widened eyes. He looked back at the kitchen, hearing the arguing get louder and louder.  

So much for the perfect family his dad tried to create. So much for the empty promises of how things were going to be different this time. But none of it was real. Not when all of this time his dad was living a lie.  

You bit your trembling lip, trying to keep it together when Soobin started to put on your shoes for you, grabbing your coat as he wrapped it around you before holding you at an arm’s length. “I need to go see my sister.”  

His what now? Soobin grabbed his keys, looking at the kitchen one more time before he opened the front door, gently pushing you out and closing the door behind him.  

“You have a sister?”  

“Yeah. She lives like two hours away, but don’t worry. I’ll be back for Uni tomorrow.” He reassured you that he wasn’t going anywhere for too long but the thought of all of this going down without him around felt so wrong. It’s like he was in panic mode. Rushing to escape and get you as far away from this mess as he possibly could.  

Of course you understood. But somehow things were going too fast to process right now.  

“Do we just…leave them alone? I-”  

Soobin opened the trunk of his car, throwing in his jacket before shutting it as you stood there and simply watched him as he paced around. He was completely struck with adrenaline, and you knew there was no way you could stop him from going. If anything, it might do him some good to talk to another family member.  

“Please…drive save okay.” You walked over to him and grabbed his arm to make him look at you and once his eyes landed on you his gaze completely softened. He nodded quietly, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”  

“It’s…it’s ok.”  

“No, it’s not.” His voice was stern and all you could do was nod, avoiding eye contact altogether.  

He sighed, pulling you into him and nuzzled his nose in your hair, inhaling the perfumy scent of your shampoo once more to calm himself down. Soobin squeezed you in his arms to then let go and kiss you ever so gently, afraid you’d break.  

You reluctantly let go. “Text me when you get there, please…”  

He nodded, smiling at you fondly before getting into his car without another word. He reversed the car out of the driveway and sped off, leaving you feeling empty as ever on the pavement.  

Going home made no sense to you, so your legs took you to the only house that did make sense to go to right now. It started pouring rain in the middle of your way there, but you didn’t care. You were letting the water cleanse you of all the bad energy you just encountered.  

You were worried sick for Soobin, feeling knots form in your stomach as nausea took over. You knew he probably didn’t have a home to return to anymore once he got back and the thought made you feel like it was your fault somehow. He’s been through so much this past year and you knew exactly what it felt like to be alone in a broken home full of lies and secrets.  

You couldn’t help but think of your father. Though your mom’s existence was a good enough reason to leave, you never got a real explanation from either of them. It’s like he was Voldemort. You could never speak of him or ask about him, so you made peace with the whole thing years ago, though it still ate at you from time to time. But this…this whole thing was opening up old wounds that would just leave new scars and you weren’t ready for that. Especially now that you finally felt like you were able to let yourself love someone again.  

Why couldn’t it be easier?  

Your chemistry and dynamic with Soobin came so incredibly natural that it felt like all four forces of nature were trying to sabotage your relationship as some type of balancing act. It was unfair.  

For you, for him, even for Isabelle.  

You were fighting tears the whole way, but when you knocked on Beomgyu’s door and watched his big smile falter when he opened the door for you, you fully broke down.  

“Y/n…” his voice was quiet as he wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry in his arms as he comforted you on the floor of his hallway.  

“You’re soaking wet…did you walk all the way here in the rain? Shit.” He quickly looked around and grabbed his mother’s scarf, wrapping it around you in an attempt to warm you up, but your teeth were still chattering as silent sobs escaped your lips.  

“Let’s get you in dry clothes and then we can talk okay?”  

You locked eyes with him, slowly nodding as you watched his face contort from pure concern to relief.  

“Ok, come on,” he says helping you up.  

“…Soobin?” his sister smiled widely. “You could’ve called! I would’ve made lunch or something.”  

“I’m…I’m not hungry. I actually really need to talk to you.”  

Soobin organized all of his thoughts in his head on the car ride over, he didn’t really know how to break it to her, or how to articulate all the scattered words in his head, but he had to somehow.  

“…Well it must be damn important if you drove all the way here?” she moved aside and led him into the living room, making him sit down on the large sofa.  

He looked around for a second. Feeling how warm, cozy, and loving her home felt just by observing the place. He kicked himself for not coming over more often, but after the move and everything else, he just couldn’t get himself to do so for some reason.  

“Want a tour of the house? You haven’t seen the place since we bought it.” She smiled at him sweetly but the absence in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by her as he played with his fingers in his lap. She moved her weight from one foot to the other, wanting to sit down next to him on the couch but the moment got interrupted by tiny little footsteps on the hard wooden floor.  

“Uncle Bin! Uncle Bin!” his nephew ran around the corner, making Soobin look up from his hands. His eyes lit up in a split second, holding out his arms for the toddler as he launched his tiny body into Soobin’s arms. “Hey little guy, look at you, you’ve gotten so big!” Soobin lifted the kid up and placed him on his lap, rocking him on his knee as he tickled his belly. “I missed you uncle bin!” Soobin melted, squeezing his eyes shut as he showed his dimples while pursing his lips together. Talk about a cuteness overload.  

“I missed you too, buddy.” He pressed his finger into the identical dimple the child had. They kinda looked alike. At least that’s what everyone tells him.  

His sister smiled at both of them and placed her son on her lap but he was fighting her, wanting to go back to Soobin.“Hey, listen, listen. How about you go upstairs and draw Uncle Soobin something really pretty, and then afterwards you two can go get ice cream? Okay?”  

The kids’ eyes had literal beams emitting from them out of excitement. “Okay! But only if you hang it somewhere special.”  

Soobin hands clasped over his chest where his heart was with a smile and nodded. “Of course! I’ll frame it and hang it up.”  

“At home!” the kid chirped, but Soobin’s smile faltered a bit. “Y-yeah buddy, at home.”  

His sister noticed his drop in energy and protectively moved closer to him.  

“Okay, deal!” the kid was easily convinced as he sprinted upstairs, making both Soobin and his sister sigh in relief.  

She averted his attention to him once more, firmly squeezing his shoulder. He seemed to be feeling better already, though the atmosphere got heavier shortly after his nephew left the room.  

“Why are you really here Bin?” she carefully starts.  

“You want the short version or the long version?” he asks giving her a blank stare.  

“Short…no long.”  

Soobin nodded to himself and inhaled sharply, speaking incredibly fast. “Okay so, I met this girl 'cause she almost hit me with her car and she’s amazing, we’re neighbors, by the way, total coincidence. But her mom is… uhm…well single and one time she invited us over for dinner to welcome us into the neighborhood and even though I connected with y/n, I felt like something was up with dad and her mom so y/n threw a party two nights ago, but the drinks were finished so me and y/n were going to sneak into the house and steal some of dad’s whiskey collection but then we caught her mom and our dad fucking on the couch.”  

With an open mouth, Soobin’s sister was trying to follow his story but the randomness of it all overwhelmed her. “Huh!?”  

“Yeah, so dad cheated on Isabel, and I found out that dad has been cheating on Isabel just like he was cheating on mom during her sickness so I kinda snapped and assaulted him in front of Isabel and y/n and now I’m worried that y/n might see me differently but I literally ran away to come here a minute after that all went down and I don’t know what to do or how to go back, I’m actually going insane” Soobin was gasping for air as he uttered that whole monologue in one breath, carefully awaiting his sisters’ reaction by knitting his eyebrows together as he anticipated her response. So much for organizing his thoughts in the car…  

“Soobin.” She closed her eyes. “what was y/n even doing in the house? Dude, I’m so lost you have no idea, and you left her? Right after you reconstructed dads face?”  

“I didn’t hit him. And why aren’t you reacting to the cheating part, aren’t you pissed? I-”  

“Oh baby bro.” she closed her eyes, leaning back on the couch at a loss for words. “Dad has always been and will always be a piece of shit. Nothing that man does will ever surprise me. I’ve known about some of this but I always tried to shield you from it. I guess now that you’re older the puzzle pieces are starting to fit.”  

Soobin just nodded, drifting back into thought. “I can’t believe I almost bought his caring act.”  

“You know, I don’t think it’s an act. He cares for us deeply but…watching mom die fucked him up…badly.”  

Soobin looked up in surprise. “I’m not saying that it’s an excuse, I’m just saying that he started grieving her while she was still alive in the worst way possible and Isabelle is probably just collateral damage…our childhood was great when they still loved each other…when mom wasn’t sick.” A tear tried to escape from his sisters’ eye but she quickly wiped it away, staring at the picture of their mother on the coffee table.  

He was looking at it too, his heart filling with both love and sadness as he studied his mom’s face. He drifted back into deep thought as the two of them stayed silent for a second.  

“Is y/n your girlfriend?”  

Soobin’s head snapped in his sisters’ direction, it’s as if she sensed that he was thinking of you.  

“We’re…pretty new. But it’s heading in that direction. This all just complicates things.” He swallowed harshly, nervously picking at his cuticles again. “I don’t know how I’ll ever go back.”  

“Soobin…she’ll understand.”  

“I know she does, that’s not what I meant. I meant going back to the house.”  

Her eyes got sad as she watched him and moved closer to envelop him in a hug. He fully gave in wrapping his arms around her frame. “You can move here?” she softly suggested.  

Soobin let go of her, raising his eyebrows at the sudden offer. “Huh?”  

“I mean think about it. I have an extra room now, you can go back to your old college and it’s not like you’re moving across the country…I’m sure that whatever it is that you’re trying to figure out with y/n could also work with a little bit of distance.”  

Soobin’s lips parted as he contemplated the sudden offer. It seemed…viable in some way, but he did have to admit that the thought of moving schools again would suck. Especially now that he’s finally settled and made friends.  And you…oh my god. He knew you well enough that the distance would fuck both of you up for sure. But he had to be realistic and chose between staying, being miserable at home for years to come with a potential relationship that could end because of that miserable situation OR running away and chose not to fight that battle.    

“Won’t your husband mind?” Soobin asks, knowing damn well what the answer to that question was already. But he didn’t know what else to say right now.  

“No, of course not. He loves you.” She shrugged, giving him a pat on the knee. “Just think about it okay? Let’s get that little monster his ice cream.”  

Soobin barely responded to your texts, telling you that he’d drive out early in the morning to go straight to Uni from his sisters’ house right before you went to bed. You barely slept, twisting and turning in Beomgyu’s bed as he took the inflatable mattress on the floor. He demanded you to stay over after you told him everything and decided to obey him just because you really didn’t feel like being alone right now.  

After a quick stop at your house in the morning to shower and get dressed you were headed out for your first class of the day already. Going to school felt odd but it was a blessing in disguise cause it offered some type of normalcy after this hectic weekend. Before you got in Beomgyu’s car you stopped for a second to look at Soobin’s house just to see the empty driveway. You knew he’d be at school when you got there but for some reason, you were more anxious than excited to see him.  

You were waiting for him in the parking lot, your eyes lighting up when he pulled up and got out of the car after parking it swiftly. He looked at you with the exact same sparkles in his eyes and wrapped you in his arms for a long, warm hug.  

You sigh contently, holding him at arm's length. He was wearing dress pants and a white loose-fitting button up…to school?  

“You look…different?” you chuckle to break the silence, fixing a wrinkle in the material on his shoulder.  

“It’s the only thing I could find in my brother-in-law’s closet that fit me.” Soobin snorted, leaning his back against the wall.  

“How was it?” you asked with a hopeful expression but somehow Soobin found it hard to look you in the eye.  

“Uhm…” he started, but paused again. “We talked about my parents and…where it went wrong and stuff. My sister made me realize that her death left different scars on our dad than the rest of us.”  

You blinked at him, not fully comprehending but also kind of understanding what he was saying. “After our talk, I spent some time with my nephew…he’s really cute.” He smiled, missing him already, and seeing the look in Soobin’s eyes you couldn’t help but reciprocate his enamored grin.  

“Did you talk to him yet?”  

Soobin shook his head. “He called me like a hundred times but I’m not ready, Isabelle texted me that I was still welcome and that my dad’s staying at some motel in town, so I won’t have to worry about running into him for the time of being.”  

You moved a piece of his hair out of his eyes. “Well…that’s a temporary solution.” You sigh. “We need to come up with a permanent one.”  

“…Yeah…” Soobin didn’t know how to tell you about the offer his sister made, but he also knew that decisions had to be made fast. “I have to get to class.’ He tells you, checking the time on his phone.  

Seeing how absent he was made your heart feel heavier than ever. It’s like his body was here and his mind was somewhere else. You wished there was more you could do. “I’ll see you in our free period, right?” you asked, and he simply nodded, pulling you in to kiss you softly.  

“Did you guys hear about the festival at school, they want us to dress up as characters,” Beomgyu announces showing you guys the post on the school’s Instagram page.  

“Seems fun,” Taehyun adds, followed by Hueningkai’s loud laugh. “Dress up? Like what exactly?” he questions.  

You were not present at all during this conversation, nervously biting your lip as you kept staring at the door, waiting for Soobin to walk in.  

“Hueningie can dress as a lifesize penguin, Tae as some fighter and I can just be a cowboy-themed stripper.”  

“What about me.” Beomgyu moped.  

Yeonjun shot Beomgyu a pained smile. “You don’t need a costume to blend in.” 

The table laughed and averted their attention to you. “Maybe you and Soobin could do a couples costume? Like batman and batgirl or something. That’s cute.” Yeonjun suggests trying to cheer you up. You broke out your trance, giving him and the others a quick smile. “Y-yeah seems fun.”  

Taehyun was losing his patience with you and rolled his eyes. The whole table was trembling just because you kept shaking your leg in nervousness.  

“Dude quit it. He’ll be here.” He said putting his hand on your knee to make you stop. Your head snapped back, instantly halting your nervous tick as you bit your lip. “Sorry. But you should’ve seen him.”  

“Give the guy some rest, he’s probably still exhausted both emotionally and physically.” You nodded, agreeing with Tae as you crossed your arms on the table with a pout on your face.  

“Do you think he’ll move out?” Hueningkai asks, making Beomgyu look at him funny. “Where would he go?”  

“I don’t know. He has a sister, maybe there?”  

You looked up at Hueningkai with dilated pupils letting your shoulders fall and Yeonjun immediately noticed how sad that comment made you. “Oh my god, Kai shut up, can’t you see she’s already going through it.” He pulled you into him and you just gave in, resting your head on Yeonjun’s shoulder as he patted your head like a cat.  

“His sister lives like two hours away,” Beomgyu muttered through his teeth while leaning towards Hueningkai.  

“Oh...sorry.” Hueningkai quickly apologized with wide eyes, awkwardly laughing the pained atmosphere away as he rocked in his chair.  

“Oh, there he is.” Taehyun cutely waved at Soobin who immediately walked over to your table. You lifted your head off Yeonjun’s shoulder, pushing him aside to make room for Soobin.  

“Ha, I see how it is,” he says rolling his eyes and acting all fake hurt but still proceeded to scoot over so Soobin could sit next to you anyway.  

Soobin gave you a quick peck before he unwrapped his sandwich, not noticing the silence that took over the table as everyone stared at him all at once. He lifted his head, looking around just to get flustered by all of your eyes on him. “…Uh…what?”  

“What do you mean what?” Beomgyu huffed, pushing Soobin’s sandwich aside. “what’s your next move?” he continues.  

“And let us know if we can help in any way,” Taehyun adds.  

Soobin suddenly got overwhelmed with all their pitiful faces but you looked at him attentively, waiting for him to speak.  

“I-I don’t know yet.”  

“Well, what are your options? Do you have options?” Yeonjun asks this time.  

Soobin sighed, staring at his hands. “My sister she uh…” he looked at you this time, pausing for a second. “She offered me to move in with her.”  

All of their eyes darted from Soobin to you. You pursed your lips together, swallowing harshly as you turned to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered but of course, everyone could hear.  

“…I…I didn’t know how. But it’s not like I made my mind up yet, I just…”  

You childishly got up and stormed off to avoid either an emotional breakdown or a temper tantrum, leaving everyone at a loss for words back at the table.  

“Dude,” Beomgyu says wide-eyed, watching a frozen Soobin with a shocked face, still glued to his seat. “She came to me crying last night, worried sick about you. She even opened up about her dad for the first time” Beomgyu wasn’t one to get angry fast but he had a distaste for injustice. “What?” Soobin says turning into a statue.

“You do know her dad left under similar conditions, right?” Tae added.  

“I-” Soobin stuttered, eyes guilty and wide. How did he forget?  

“Oh my god, for the love of god, go! Run after her. Go!” Yeonjun says pulling Soobin out of his seat with all of his strength.  

Soobin didn’t fully grasp what was going on but his feet started to run in your direction automatically.  

He spotted you at the end of the hallway. You were speed walking out of the building, so he decided to take the short route in order to catch up to you outside.  

He ran through the large double doors, making a quick turn so he could grab you. “Y/n wait!” Soobin hasn’t run this fast since PE in high school. He was completely out of breath, pulling you into a random alley around the school building.  

You stared at him in bewilderment, quickly wiping your wet eyes so he wouldn’t notice but it was already too late. “`Y/n…” he sulked, grabbing your face with both hands so he could make you look up at him.  

You sniffed, removing his hands from your face and created some distance. “I want…I want to be alone.” You lied.  

The thing is that you knew what was best for him. You knew that moving in with his sister was what he needed to do for himself, but selfishly you wished he’d stay. You wished his future would be brighter with you in it, but not when there’s a dark cloud following him home every day. How could he heal if he couldn’t move on?    

“I thought that…maybe there was something more there than just…sex,” you whispered. It made Soobin’s eyes widen, taking a step closer to you so he could take your hand in desperation.  

“There is! Trust me you know I’d never hurt you like that. I told you how I felt about you so many times but this…y/n it's’ bigger than us. We’ve barely been in each other’s lives for two weeks”  

Ouch. That one rubbed you the wrong way, but in his defense, it just came out of his mouth miserably.  

“So that’s it then? Soobin…do you know how hard It is for me to open up to anyone!?” Anger started to take over as you yanked your hand out of his hold.  

“…You’re acting like there’s no way we can make the distance work.”  

“You’re the one who made it seem like our time together is forgettable enough to not even explore a different option other than moving across the state! We both know that the shift from being literal neighbors to being cities away is going to kill us.”  

“Well staying in that house is going to kill me!” Soobin raised his voice in frustration, making you take a step back in silence as you looked at your feet.  

“It's not fair,” you mumble as your voice cracks, which made Soobin soften up again.  

He didn’t want to admit that you were right, because admitting meant that he had to just be okay with losing you and he didn’t want that. However, deep down he had already made up his mind. There’s nowhere else for him to go other than his sister, and after everything, a family might just be the thing he needs most right now.  

“Y/n I don’t want us to end like this. I don’t want you to feel like I’m choosing not to stay and fight for you. It’s not that black and white. I can’t be a good boyfriend if I stay under their roof. It’ll consume me.” His voice cracked too as he stared at you with despair.  

You looked back at him, trying your hardest to fight your tears. “Then it’s best if we go our separate ways now before someone seriously gets hurt.”  

Why were you doing this?  

Soobin’s eyes widened. “What?”  

“Like you said, it’s barely been two weeks.” You shrugged. Striking first was always your way to cope so you wouldn’t get hurt. It was your way of staying in control, but it was no use because it already hurt. So. Fucking. Much.  

“Y/n…don’t.” Soobin tried to grab your hand again but you didn’t let him. He watched tears spill from your eyes this time, and right before he could say something else you were already gone.  

Your mom was on her weekly grocery shopping spree and not so accidentally stumbled into the department store. She was going to buy you something in hopes it’d make you less angry at her, even if it was just a little bit.  

She was used to the stares from countless men surrounding her. The sound of her heels and the smell of her perfume announced her presence before she walked into the room. It’s like she ran this town as she greeted every employee.

She was scanning aisle after aisle, hoping to get you a cute bag or something until she spotted a familiar tall figure in the luggage section.  

“Yeah, I know. I still have some unpacked boxes, so I’ll just throw the rest in a suitcase.”  

Your mom moved in closer, eavesdropping on the conversation Soobin was having over the phone with his sister. “Why are suitcases so damn expensive,” Soobin mumbled in annoyance, grabbing the tag of another one behind it.  

Your mom squinted her eyes, moving her cart aside so she could get closer to him. “Going on a trip?” your mom’s voice scared the fuck out of Soobin, he nearly dropped his phone and almost knocked over the whole rack of suitcases as they made eye contact.  

Your mom smiled at him widely, raising an eyebrow still calmly awaiting his response. “I…uh…I’ll call you back.” He quickly hung up the phone and regained composure, straightening out his back after putting his phone in his pocket.  

“I’m guessing you’re the reason my daughter’s been extra sad lately?” She assumed, crossing her arms.  

“Uh..extra? I- What do you mean…”  

“She’s always grumpy. cause she lives with me. But ya know…she hasn’t been eating or sneaking out in the middle of the night so I’m guessing.” She rolled her index finger in the air theatrically to end up pointing it in Soobin’s face. “That it has something to do with you.”  

Soobin licked his lips, not knowing how to get out of this one. “I think it’s better if you talk to her about it.”  

“She doesn’t talk to me. We both know that.” Your mom rolled her eyes, making Soobin even more uncomfortable than he already was as he looked around the store.  

“…Mam, I’m sorry but-”  

“You’re not leaving her, right?” She interrupted him. “Because it looks like…you’re leaving,” she said pointing at the suitcase.  

“You and my dad didn’t give me much of a choice.” Soobin bit back. Your mom raised her eyebrow in pleasant surprise. She liked the fire Soobin had in him. Just because it reminded her of herself.  

“Where are you going Soobin?” Your mother asked sternly.  

“To live with my sister.”  

“Where?”  

“It’s like 2 hours away.” Soobin sighed, but that made all the puzzle pieces fall into place in your mothers’ brain.  

“Soobin. You’re not leaving my daughter like this, not another man. You can’t just pack up your shit and go. She already went through that once. It wasn’t pretty.”  

“She…she broke up with me? And it’s not like I want to. I don’t have much of a choice.” Soobin says in his defense. It was like he was reliving the last conversation he had with you.  

“Oh, you dumbo, do you really think, that someone as in love as her would selfishly make you stay in a situation that would make you unhappy? I might not be mom of the year, but I know my baby.”  

Soobin paused for a second…hold on….in love? He wasn’t quite following anymore, too overwhelmed with the fact that he was even having this conversation with your mom of all people.  

“Let’s go talk somewhere else shall we.” She said looping her arm through Soobin’s. He mindlessly followed her, feeling like he got kidnapped in public.  

It didn’t take long before they made it to a random café, your mom got both of them coffees as they sat down at a table outside. Soobin politely thanked her for the drink, wrapping his hands around his hot cup.  

“First off. I apologize for taking part in…your life going to shit.” Your mom immediately says as she sits down in front of him.  

Soobin’s eyes widened, swallowing harshly. “But just so you know, if it wasn’t me it would’ve been the other housewife next door so…”  

Soobin snorted, bitterly smiling at his cup. “With all due respect, it would’ve made things less complicated if it was the other housewife.”  

Your mom let out a cackle, admiring his sense of humor. “I bet yeah…But I mean it. I’m sorry.”  

He nodded and silence took over completely. Your mothers’ expression switched from playful to worried as she watched Soobin take a sip of his drink. “I’ve never seen my daughter happier than she has been for the past two weeks you know.”  

“I got the impression that you weren’t really around to notice,” Soobin says taking a bite of his complimentary biscuit while remaining eye contact. For an introvert, he was really pushing his social boundaries today, cause he was bolder than ever.  

Your mom scoffed. “I’m a single mom with a daughter in college. Someone has to pay for that tuition, and I can’t really make that happen by sitting around, can I?”  

Soobin raised his eyebrows, nodding to show that he understood. He didn’t want to ask any further questions because he knew that getting answers to how your mom made her money would complicate things even further, but he could definitely guess.  

“Speaking of college. Have you tried the dormitory?” She asked interrupting Soobin’s thoughts.  

Soobin nodded, leaning back in his chair. “They had no available units cause it’s the middle of the semester and even if they did it's too expensive.”  

Your mothers’ ear perked up. “I can help.”  

“What? No. I’m not taking your money.”  

“No, no. I mean…I know someone on the board of your Uni. I could easily make it happen.”  

“…H-how?” Soobin was showing interest now, waiting for her to continue talking.  

“Ever since I found out y/n was accepted into that school I started cozying up to one of the school board members if you know what I mean. To make life a bit easier for us if needed.”  

Soobin couldn’t help but scrunch his nose at the revelation, but he had more questions. “Why would he help?”  

“Because he doesn’t want his wife and kids to know what daddy did two summers ago.” Your mom grimaced wiggling her eyebrows, making Soobin cover his mouth in disbelief.  

Shit.  

“That’s evil…but I’m in.” Soobin says with determination in his eyes, mimicking your mom’s mischievous grin.  

“Leave.” You were hiding under your blanket, trying to get Yeonjun to leave you the fuck alone this Friday night. You didn’t even know how he got in here, but you can only imagine that it was your mom’s doing.  

You were still mourning your potential relationship with Soobin and couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he had probably already left without saying goodbye.  

“No.” he groaned, rubbing his forehead. “It’s the costume party tonight. Get your ass up.”  

“I’m not fucking going.” You protest, turning your back towards him like a child. 

“Yes, you are, get up. Fun is what you need. It’s what I need,” he says shaking you violently to get a reaction out of you.  

“I don’t even have a costume.”  

“Yes, you do. I made Beomgyu pick up the batgirl costume for you.”  

“What?”  

“I’m a Virgo, y/n. I think before you do.” Yeonjun winked but you still weren’t really warming up to the idea of leaving your house for a stupid college party.  

“There’s no batgirl without batman.” You mumble bitterly.  

“Now…that’s not very feministic of you.”  You rolled your eyes but Yeonjun’s patience was running thin as per usual. He sighed, ripping the covers off of you. 

“Trust me. Please.” Yeonjun climbed on top of your bed and looked at you with desperate eyes.  

He stared at you fiercely and you stared back, but when he started to pout you gave in, aggressively kicking the air before getting up. “Where’s the fucking costume?” you spit out in defeat.  

Yeonjun’s eyes lit up, giggling like a baby as he pulled the costume out of his bag.  

Luckily it didn’t take too long to get ready, Yeonjun assisted where he could and pushed you out of the front door in no time. He gave your mom a quick wink, who was situated on the couch with a glass of wine in her hand. She raised the wine glass towards Yeonjun and took a sip, smiling to herself as she averted her attention back on the tv once you both left.  

“Woooow, look who it issss, It’s batgirl!” Beomgyu beamed at you, excitedly walking over as he held out his hand for you. He made you twirl around for him once and you could help but crack a smile, especially since he handed you your favorite drink. “You look great!” He screamed over the blaring music.  

“So do you…but uhm…what is…” you tried to guess who he was supposed to resemble but you had no idea to be completely honest.  

“I found out Yeonjun changed his costume to sexy vampire, so I dressed as Buffy the vampire slayer.” Beomgyu chirps wiggling his eyebrows up and down. 

You cackled out loud, showing a genuine smile for the first time in a while. “It’s ok if people don’t get it, he’ll definitely understand, and hate me for it,” he says with a mischievous grin on his face. “Well, you look very handsome Buffy.” You compliment him before you both down the drinks in your hands in one go.

Shortly after you watched Hueningkai and Taehyun approach dressed as the penguin from happy feet and Mike Tyson, the boxer. Tae even drew the gap in his teeth with some black marker and you applauded his eye for detail followed by all of you touching the fluff on Hueningkai’s adorable suit.  

You were thankful for them, just an hour ago you would rather stay in than be here but now that you were actually having fun again you felt so much better already.  

You looked around, raising your eyebrow. “…Hey, where is Yeonjun?”  

Yeonjun’s sexy vampire attire was more than in the way as he ran across campus. The fucking shit he does for his friends is insane. His cape was flying in the air as he ran towards the dormitory building, catching stares and laughs from people all around.  

He got there out of breath, knocking on the door of the room across his own with the little energy he had left. “I’m here.” He announced, and that’s when the door opened with a dramatic swing.  

Soobin’s bottom half was dressed in the batman costume and his top half was well…nude.  

Yeonjun eyes traveled down his body before making eye contact shortly after to snap out of it “…You’re late! WHY did you call me here, she’s already at the party and why aren’t you dressed?”  

“I can’t get in this thing by myself, it’s tight as hell and I can’t zip it from the back either,” Soobin complained as he pulled Yeonjun into his room, closing the door behind him so Yeonjun could help him get dressed in private.  

“Aren't you glad this room comes with blinds” Yeonjun teased as he pulled on the spandex with all his power from one side as Soobin pulled on the other side.  

Soobin rolled his eyes with a smirk finally getting one arm into the suit, followed by the other shortly after. The sight must’ve been a hilarious one to see because the two of them were moaning and groaning, completely out of breath by the time Yeonjun was able to zip up Soobin’s suit.  

“Now let’s hope you don’t have to pee 'cause I’m not helping you do that.” Yeonjun jokes which made Soobin shove him aside with a smirk.  

“Here’s the mask,” Yeonjun says grabbing it from Soobin’s bed. “Now let’s go. I’m dying to see the look on her face once she sees you.”  

Yeonjun was already at the door but Soobin hesitated, looking in the mirror with big insecure eyes as his gaze met Yeonjun’s. “What if she actually hates me.”  

“She doesn’t,” Yeonjun says grabbing Soobin by the arm. “Trust me. She’ll be happy to see you, just don’t forget to mention the fact that you’re staying.” He says giving Soobin aggressive pats on the back before the two of them left for the party.  

You went around the building to get into photobooths and talk to some of your classmates. Everyone was complimenting you on your costume but even though you were usually awkward with compliments, you decided to confidently own it and thank them with a smile. A fake one at that, because even though this thing was a good distraction, Soobin still lived in your mind rent-free.

You avoided the crowd on the dance floor and walked over to the table your friends had already claimed prior to exploring the grounds. “Ok, I’m seriously starting to get worried about Yeonjun. What if he ran into one of his exes?” you say as you sit down.  

“He's over there,” Taehyun announced, pointing at the entrance and that’s when you saw Yeonjun, followed by some masked dude in a batman costume. You looked at your attire and then back to him...and that’s when it clicked when you noticed his unique lip shape.  

It was Soobin.  

Your eyes widened as you stiffened and before you could say anything Beomgyu got up, running off to the dance floor while Tae gave you a motivating pinch on the shoulder followed by a thumbs up from Hueningkai as they followed Beomgyu to give you some privacy.  

You stared at Soobin in disbelief, although, it didn’t quite go unnoticed how good he looked in the skin-tight suit he had on.  

Shit. Shit. Shit.  

Why would they arrange this!?  

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Yeonjun gave you a wink, pushing Soobin down on a chair he pulled out next to yours.  

As Yeonjun disappeared it was hard for you to look at Soobin. You were literally going to kill your friends for doing this. Putting you in matching outfits was one thing but leaving you alone was another.  

Soobin bit his lip, wishing it wasn’t this awkward between you two. “You know…I walked around campus with a spandex wedgie, had Yeonjun dress me and everyone kept looking at me so I would…appreciate it if…you’d talk to me.”

He started to nervously bounce his leg up and down awaiting your response and that’s when you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You looked at him, cracking a smile. “We look…ridiculous.” You start, making Soobin smile at you from ear to ear. “We do.” He looked at the table and then back at you with a shy smile, taking your hand in his own as he sighed. “I’m sorry about…our fight. I never should’ve said the things I did and-”  

“I’m sorry too. I realized I was just…pushing you away.” You interrupted him which made him sigh in relief as he nodded.  

“But I don’t think it changes anything Soobin, like…it’s really sweet that you showed up and it’s even sweeter that your introverted ass went to these lengths to do so but…you’re still…leaving.”  

Soobin looked up with wide eyes, remembering that he still had to disclose the biggest fucking turn of events.  

“I…I’m not leaving.” Soobin says, which made your head snap back into his direction, your shaky pupils looking for more answers in his own as your heart stopped beating.  

“Huh?” your mouth fell agape, and he nodded to assure you that he wasn’t playing with you.  

“It was your mom actually.” Soobin smiled.  

“…My mom?” you raised your eyebrows in surprise.  

“She got me enrolled into the dorms here.”  

“What!? How!?”  

“She…knew a guy.” He vaguely explained.  

“…Of course she did.” You smiled to yourself in disbelief but for the first time in a long time, you were happy that your mom is who she is.

“…Why didn’t you tell me before? The past week had been absolute hell.”   Soobin pouted, squeezing your hand for comfort. “I wanted to be 100% sure. I didn’t want to give you any false hope if shit didn’t work out and I literally got the keys to the place today, you wouldn’t believe it; I live right across from Yeonjun so that’s going to be…eventful.”  

You listened to him speak attentively, with stars in your eyes. Your heart swelling more and more by the second.  

“Once he found out he and Beomgyu set the whole mission of reuniting batgirl and batman in action so…here I am.” He remarks as he opened his arms.  

A smile crept up on your lips, launching yourself forward to kiss him as you swiftly moved onto his lap; not caring who was watching or that you were in public.  

Soobin was startled at your directness at first but immediately relaxed into the kiss once you moved sideways on his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, firmly grabbing onto your waist so you wouldn’t slip and slide against him because of your costumes’ as he skillfully yet passionately made out with you.  

You were pulled out of your little bubble as you heard cheering from the dance floor. You both stopped for a second, looking back as you see the boys cheering, clapping, and celebrating as they looked your way and all you could do was laugh at them.  

So maybe you could have your happily ever after after all? 

They minded their business again soon after, but somehow it made you want to join them with all of the adrenaline still rushing through your bloodstream.  

“Come on, let’s dance.” You tried to get up but Soobin stopped you from moving, violently shaking his head. “You’ve awoken the monster.” He says, looking down at his crotch.  

“What?” you stared at him in disbelief. You knew you looked hot, but this…  

You couldn’t help but laugh at the bizarre situation, but he just sulked at you.  

“Y/n if I get up the suit might rip, just so you know.”  

“Well then stop it!” you yell  

“I can’t control it!” he yells back.  

You clasped your hand over your mouth to stop laughing, but Soobin gave you a scowl, throwing his head back in pain. “Well, what do we do about it?” you ask.  

“…”  

He crashed his lips into yours once you made it past the entrance to his new room. He pushed your back onto the mattress, yanking your body down the bed by your legs which made you yelp at his eagerness and the way he was manhandling you. “Soobin the…fucking suits,” you interrupt, making him halt his movements for a while.  

He thought about it for a good second, knowing damn well the two of you would not be going back to that party anyway. He turned you around, giving your ass a hard smack before ripping the suit apart at the hem by your butt. You gasped in shock, but he pushed you back down with an evil smirk, ripping his own suit apart as well to reveal his dick. He pumped himself a few times, spitting on your pussy and his own length to make this more enjoyable for the two of you as he swiped the wetness up and down your slit with his tip.

“You good?”  

You nodded into his pillow, hugging it as you lay on your stomach. He inserted himself gently inch by inch, making the two of you sigh in relief when he bottomed out into you. He eyed your reaction but you seemed to enjoy it, so he started moving slowly, steadily pumping his length in and out of you as your moans grew louder once he found a nice rhythm. This position was new to both of you, but it felt amazing as he grazed all the right spots deeper than ever.  

“You take me so well baby.” He whispered in your ear, which gave you goosebumps all over. He leaned his chest against your back, reaching around to squeeze your tits that were still snugly fit inside the stupid batgirl suit with his large hands.  

His movements started to get rougher, skin-slapping sounds filling the room accompanied by both of your moans and groans. You were feeling euphoric, your eyes rolling back as he crashed his hips into you harder and harder. His hand moved from your chest to your throat, cutting off your breathing by pinching the sides of your throat just the right way until it sent you over the edge completely.  

You screamed his name as you came, desperately gasping for air but seeing you so fucked out and helpless only edged him on to keep going. You were grabbing fistfuls of his sheets as he continued to prone bone you into the mattress until he reached his own high, you were completely overstimulated, but you couldn’t say that you hated it, in fact; you think you might've just discovered a brand new kink. He pulled out right before he erupted, coating the back of your suit with cum as he let out a loud groan filled with pure ecstasy.  

His breathing was ragged, but he looked down at you in awe as he calmed down. “So pretty.” He mused, watching how the moonlight coming from the window shone on your cum covered bare ass.  

You looked back at him with a corny smile, before realizing where the only source of light was coming from…. his goddamn window.  

“Soobin…for the love of god.” You say pointing at the open window.  

“yeah, yeah I know.” He said quickly putting on a random pair of basketball shorts over his suit so his dick wouldn’t flop out.  

You giggled and went into his bathroom to clean yourself up quickly. Soobin however was still on cloud nine and moved around the room like a sloth. He turned on the lights so he could shut the curtains but just as he took a hold of the curtain to close it, he froze; watching a frat guy give him a thumbs up from the windowpane of the opposite building.  

Fuck.  

It seems like Soobin is and will always be…someone’s naked neighbor.  

The end