#unwanted dessert

[yeowninefive]

Unwanted Dessert

"SAY AAAAHHHH!" (I feel like I have fallen short of properly depicting Wiola's mischievous prankster nature.)

#unwanted dessert #original character #wiola #witch #witch girl #witchy girl #broom #flying #flight #flying broom #flying broomstick #broomstick #mop broom #witch oc #prankster #pies #original character art #doodle #doodle art #doodle drawing #art #artists on tumblr

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 6 - Round Two. Fight!

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Damn. Your indulgent TV stalking of the Wayne’s really doesn’t hit the same once you technically knew them. And you were hiding inside one of their bedrooms, inside one of their clothes, using their TV subscription. It just didn’t feel right. Morally, of course, but that wasn’t what you were talking about. No, you were just pissy your favourite pastime was basically ruined. You shovel another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream into your mouth, glaring through tired eyes at the screen.

There’s an up-close shot of Dick Grayson’s abs. The presenter ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ over his physical form, and you have to agree. You wish you had abs like that. Unfortunately, you did respond to most unwanted experiences with stress eating. As always with these celebrity figures, you can’t really tell if you want to be Dick or be with Dick. Your butt is nowhere near the level his is at.

While you hadn’t really set out today looking for shirtless pictures of the Waynes, it wasn’t like you were going to say no to them. So, when the gossip channel had switched from the reactions of the Waynes to last night’s fiasco to… this… you’d just kept watching.

You wonder if you should stop doing this. It’s definitely kind of creepy, and now you’d technically once been his… step-sister. What a mind fuck. You’ve been crushing on these dudes for a while, and now they were your ex-step siblings. This was like the start of a bad porno, but you knew you were not that lucky. And it wasn’t like you were going to start thinking of him as a brother any time soon. You hadn’t even met the guy. No, he was still firmly in the ‘celebrity crush’ section of your mind. Pretty and untouchable. The way things are supposed to be.

Which was also bad because you would probably have to meet and interact with him at some point. Probably in the near future. God knows you’d absolutely humiliated yourself in front of the fucking Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne,. Twice, in fact. You didn’t even want to think about the display you’d shown for Bruce Wayne or Damian Wayne.

You didn’t really know what to do with your slightly obsessive crushes. And you could see it definitely being a problem in the near future.

…You decide that what you do in your private time is absolutely nobody but your business, and keep watching. It’s a mix of bitter spite and genuine mental breakdown levels of desperation that leads you to that decision. You feel like you’re a child with their toy being taken away, and it’s making you mad. And sad too. Even if you shouldn’t do this anymore, you still want to keep the habit. You’d mentioned before your creature comforts were one of the few things that kept you going. And while you were mostly very good at not being the jealous, heinous creature you really are, you knew you wouldn’t be giving this up.

They’d have to tear your gossip channels from your cold dead palms. You weren’t giving them up, not without a fight at least. Unfortunately for you, the universe seemed determined to wrestle away literally everything you loved.

Guilt’s for tomorrow. Today is for ice cream and purposefully ignoring everything. Speaking of which, you can not remember the last time you had a good Ben & Jerry’s. They were so expensive these days, as all groceries were. You simply couldn’t afford it. The Waynes, of course, had multiple tubs in multiple different options. Alfred had seemed delighted that you’d taken the ice cream, for which reasons you could not perceive.

Oh, yeah! His name was Alfred. Very butler-y. You’d remember it this time, he was a very nice man. And he called you ‘young miss’ which earned him points. He also didn’t seem to hate you on sight or treat you like a two-headed freak, like some of the other people in this household. Not naming names. Yeah, fuck that noise, Damian Wayne obviously has issues and it’s much less attractive in real life.

The woman drones on, and your eyes flick to your phone. Yup, she’s still yapping. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Dick’s abs or anything, it’s just that you think she might’ve been talking about this one specific photo for over half an hour now. Lady should get a hobby. Wait, wait, this is her job. Maybe you should start a podcast where you rant about the Wayne’s exercise regimes. It seems to be quite a lucrative field.

You shriek when the door slams open, nearly tumbling backwards off the bed. Hands manage to grip the bedcovers before you tip over, not making a complete fool of yourself. As it goes, you lose your spoon to the carpet. Bits of cookie dough spread over the floor in a divine sacrifice. And you lose your sanity to the man standing in the doorway. To be fair, he looks just as confused as you feel.

You blink at the physically perfect form of Dick Grayson and then turn your head to the TV to look at the other physically perfect form of Dick Grayson.

…You really wish you had a good explanation for this.

He mutters out your name, lips parted. Dick Grayson seems absolutely shocked to find you here. His eyes flick around the room and eventually land on the TV. Said baby blues widen to the size of saucers when the reporter makes a really, really unnecessary comment.

“And in news that broke the hearts of both ladies and gentlemen everywhere in Bludhaven, Dick Grayson has announced he will be returning to Gotham to assist his family in this difficult time. My cousin in the Blud is probably crying right now. There’s no ass out there quite like his, and there’s no replacement for Bludhaven’s favourite young rich bachelor,” she winks at the camera, and then the shot of his toned stomach phases forward to take up the entire screen.

Well, there’s a lot to say about that. First of all, fuck. Second of all, shit. Third of all, she really couldn’t have said that part about Dick coming back to Gotham sooner? Perchance, before you’d found yourself in this situation?

You said you weren’t that lucky, you meant it.

“But still, ain’t that lucky for us Gothamites? I myself have spent a lot of time on Dick’s Tiktok and Instagram, and his acrobatic videos have been used in a lot of my personal-”

You snatch the remote from the sheets and pause it right there. The silence is tense. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares at you. Completely stunned, mouth-catching flies. You want to pull the covers up and hide under them, but you don’t think that’d make him leave.

“I couldn’t find my room,” you finally manage to say. It’s the worst excuse you’ve ever heard, sounds like a complete lie. And yet, unfortunately, it is the truth.

Dick’s eyes drift to the TV, which you still haven’t unpaused. You can’t tell if it would be worth it, just to get rid of his golden brown abs staring at you judgementally, even if you’d have to deal with the extra embarrassment of the dialogue over them. Maybe if you muted the TV? It wouldn’t make up for the insult of his paparazzi photos on a widescreen.

It takes you even longer to come up with an excuse for… that.

“I was checking the news about last night,” you continue, the panic in you rising like a tea kettle left on the stove for too long. You might start shrieking like one too.

You don’t think he believes you. He looks down at the Beatles shirt you’re wearing. You know what he’s going to say before he does, but you still dread it.

“You’re wearing my clothes,” he mutters, his voice awed.

You want to say, ‘Nooo! No, no, no! Don’t do this to me, damn it! Not anymore! No more, please! It’s enough, enough suffering! This is genuinely ridiculous, damn you!’ but instead you reply with a shaky, “…Didn’t have any of mine.”

Also, you’ve been huffing Eau de Dick Grayson? That’s definitely in character for you. You want to beat your own head in with a stick.

“And I couldn’t find my room, and uh, thought this one wasn’t being used,” you continue, daring a glance back at him. He still looks completely stumped.

“It wasn’t,” he answers, but it sounds like he’s a thousand miles away.

You know, Dick Grayson was supposed to be a lot more charming than this. You’re almost proud you managed to stun the man into near speechlessness. Almost, almost. Almost not going to kill yourself once he leaves.

If he leaves. He doesn’t look like he’s getting up. You eye the gap between you and the door. Your animal brain is telling you to just run for it. But Dick has Olympic level athletics, and you don’t doubt he could catch you if you ran. Would he try though? That’s the deciding factor here.

He doesn’t seem like he’s actually going to fucking do anything though. He just keeps staring, like if he looks for long enough, it’ll all start to make sense. Which, you wish.

“Do you know where my room is? I couldn’t… remember…”

He nods, instead staring at his own abs on the TV.

“Can you take me to my room?”

He nods again. Still doesn’t look back at you.

“…Mr. Grayson?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. ‘You’ wouldn’t have used his last name, even though you might’ve. ‘You’ had been a casual person, as far as you could tell. That was the kindest way you could say it, at least.

His head snaps to you. He somehow looks more confused. You wonder if you should pinch him or something, god knows you’ve done your fair share of pinching yourself recently.

“Yes, right, sorry. Let’s… go,” he gives you a cheery smile, shaking his head, but it seems quite strained. You’re probably matching. This is the most humiliating moment of your life, and of course, it’s with the most beautiful man on earth right beside you.

A break. You want a break.

The two of you quietly shuffle out of the room, and when he guides you forward, you follow him obediently. Your head naturally bows, shame making it hard to look at him. You stare at the wooden floors as you walk. Watching it shine in the morning light that filters through the windows.

Eventually, he comes to a stop in front of a door that has obviously been avoided. Though it’s as clean as every other inch of this house, there are no marks in the rug from the door opening and closing. And even then, it seems… well, it sounds silly, but the door seems sad to you. Too many things seem sad to you these days.

Your thoughts must show on your face because Dick clears his throat and gives you a worried look. Is it rude to say you’re sick of those sorts of looks? That they just make you feel sick and burdened these days? It’s not like you could bring your family back from the dead, or convince your cheating boyfriend to not be a piece of shit. It was out of your hands.

“…Are you alright?” he asks you, blue eyes sincere. You tilt your head to the side.

“No?” you say, but it sounds more like a question. No, you are not alright. Yes, you will be okay. It’s the only option. It’s one of your rules. You have to be okay. You just have to.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost laugh.

“No,” this time your voice is firm, confident. Dick seems like he’s going to push it, but something in your eyes makes him stop. You give him a forced smile and say goodbye, closing the door gently in his face. Once you do, you crouch down and once again, press your face to your knees. Then you press your hands to your mouth and let out a scream that had been bubbling up for a while. After that, you feel you can live with the humiliation that is your existence without jumping out the three-story-height window.

You stand up, turning to the room. The first thing you notice about it is that there’s dust in here. Same as Dick’s old room. Now that you think about it, Alfred doesn’t seem the type who’d randomly leave certain rooms uncleaned, so it must be something he does out of respect for the tenants of Wayne Manor. Or maybe the old you requested it? God knows.

Sitting down on the old bed, your eyes rove around the room. It’s well decorated, as the rest of the manor is, but you can’t see anything that would make it your room. There’s none of the novels you’d collected from the used books store, no dorky little items you impulse bought, no pictures of your family. The apartment hadn’t had those either.

‘You’- she- seemed like a ghost to you. While you’d often felt like you’d barely been alive, simply going through the motions, this girl seemed like she hadn’t even been conscious half the time she was doing it. It made your stomach swim, your face pulls taught.

While you’d had few things holding you afloat, it’d been enough to keep you alive. Molly, your co-workers, the need to work so as to not starve to death. She hadn’t had anything like that. No liferaft. You’d been sputtering and gasping your way through life, and she’d been drowning. Maybe already dead, at the bottom of the sea, hair tangling with the seaweed.

This room feels like a coffin, and this manor like a cemetery. It makes you physically sick.

Showing off your fickle-mindedness, you realise that despite this being the Wayne manor filled with all your idols, you actually don’t want to fucking be here. You need space to clear your head, and the creaking floorboards that echo down the creepy hallways just don’t offer that. The atmosphere at your too-modern, too-minimalist apartment is leagues better than the atmosphere at this gorgeous old house which you’d usually love spending hours getting lost in.

Usually. Unfortunately, this place was more suffocating than the workplace when you knew you were about to get fired again. And you weren’t getting paid to stay here, so why the fuck would you?

Once you realise you’ve decided to run, you’re quick to pack up your shit. There’s not much in the room you need. A pair of sneakers, because you would rather die than put those heels on again. And you’ll grab some shirts because they’re comfy and remind you of home. Hopefully, it’ll make everything… grate… a little less. All of this is thrown in an old ratty backpack, which is then tossed over your shoulder. Shoes slipped on, and tapped against the floor so they’re on comfortably. And then you’re ready. Ready as you’ll ever be. With one hand on your phone, you take a peek outside the door. Coast is clear.

You press call for ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’. Jeanine picks up on the third ring.

“Hello, Jeanine Ryans here,” she says, her voice all business.

“Jeanine, I need an evac, stat,” you whisper to her, creeping down the hallway of the manor. The floor is unbelievably creeky, so it’s pretty fucking difficult to be stealthy about it.

“…What?”

“Get me out of this fucking manor, please,” you beg, now going down the stairs. Almost out, almost out.

“Right, on it. I’ll have a car outside in ten minutes if that’s alright?” Jeanine replies, immediately on the case. It almost makes you cry. You know she’s being paid for this, and very desperate for the job for some reason, but it’s still a hail mary that you are so grateful for.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you say, turning a corner and-

Oh, fuck. Damian Wayne glares down at you, green eyes cataloguing every single guilty piece of you in existence. He sees your hand tighten around your backpack, hears Jeanine telling you not to worry through your phone, and probably notices the way your eyes desperately flicker behind him to the door. To your goal, to the exit to this labyrinth.

You can practically hear the wind blowing, see the tumbleweed drift by.

And then, he moves past you, twisting his body so no part of it touches you. There’s a moment where your brain freezes, something spicy smelling (cinnamon, maybe?) flowing past you, and by the time you turn around, he’s gone. Your deer-in-headlights tensed-shoulders look falls, leaving you confused in the foyer. He didn’t even say a word to you. You felt like you just got passed over by a boss from a Dark Souls game.

…Well, you’ll take the wins where you can find them! Quickly, you hurry out the front door, skittering down the steps like some sort of rat. It’s a long walk to the gates, and you don’t really know how to open them to let the car in, so you decide to take your time and enjoy the walk. The early morning dew apon the clean-cut blades of grass glint and sparkle, the gravel on the road crunches under your technically-not-stolen sneakers, and even if it’s a miserable life, it’s a pretty day. From the hill the manor lives upon, you can see Gotham’s tall skyline, cloaked in its characteristic fog.

Eventually, you find yourself in front of the gate, where you can see Jeanine waiting with a black car on the otherside. There’s a big green button next to the side gate, which you press, and it clicks open. There’s a moment where your neck tingles, and you glance up at the camera pointed down at you. The red flickering light beside it holds your attention. You can see your bedraggled reflection in its lense.

Shaking your head, you move on, greeting Jeanine. She gives you a quick bow of the head and opens the door for you. You hike the bag over your shoulder, give the Wayne manor one final, lingering look and then you step into the car. Jeanine starts speaking to you about some future appointments you have, and you’re too tired to understand a word of what she says. She realises you’re not processing anything she says, and hands you a pair of headphones with a wire adapter.

You could kiss her right then and there. You don’t because that’d be weird, but you definitely think about it. Headphones on, you watch the rolling hills and luxurious manors turn into highways and honking traffic, to finally the upside part of town which was now apparently where you lived.

Eventually you find yourself being delivered in front of your swanky new apartment. With a passing goodbye, Jeanine tells you that she’ll be busy for the rest fo the day so if you need anything to call the number on the card she hands you. You tuck it in your pocket, certain you’ll lose it like every other business card you’ve ever been handed.

The elevator ride up to your room is contemplative. The music is boring, your reflection is bedraggled and tired, and the gentle feeling of gravity under your feet tugs at you. You rock slightly when you finally reach your floor. The doors open, but you don’t make any move to leave. They shut again, and you’re left staring daggers at your mirrored self.

You’d woken up, still here. It wasn’t a dream. It was reality. And more than that, it seemed more and more like you’d be staying in this reality. You didn’t think you could go home. Sure you were rich but… but your home. Your few things you’d managed to save. Your meagre group of friends and your hard-sought job. It made you nauseous. Where had you lost it all? Why were you here now? Why did you keep having to lose everything?

You manage to snap yourself out of it before someone else calls the elevator. Striding out of the space, you look to the right where you remember your apartment coming from. It’s not hard to find the unit, as there are only three on the entire floor. Rich people.

The door closes with a satisfying thud behind you, and you nearly melt with exhaustion.

This apartment is the ninth circle of hell for you. Scrambling around on your knees, you’re desperate to find the damn phone that won’t stop ringing. You can’t understand where the sound is coming from.

Under your bed? You shine your other’s phone’s light under it. Nope. Behind the dresser? Nada. You search inside the drawers and then peek inside the fancy lamp. Absolutely nothing. You’re ready to tear your hair out when you spot something… odd.

There’s… You think there’s something stuck in your floorboards. You dig at the space with your fingernails and the piece of wood pops open. Inside is… a cardboard box. An awfully familiar cardboard box, actually. The sight of your Mum’s old keepsake box makes you cry out with joy, lifting it from its little enclave. You’d lost a lot in the past few days but at least the old you knew how to keep your family’s stuff safe.

This apartment looks brand new. And apparently the past you dug into it to hide her stuff. You can’t really judge, you have a hidey-hole back at your apartment. It was a brick that had already been loose in the wall, so it didn’t feel quite as criminal as this.

The ringing is coming from inside the box. When you pull the lid up, you find a keepsake box a little different from yours. While yours only ever had your family’s old passports and photo albums, this one had a sleek phone sitting on top of all the mementos. It’s an exact copy of the phone on your bed- or well, it would be, if you hadn’t dropped it.

Two phones? This bitch was greedy. And so are you, eagerly sweeping the expensive item into your gremlin hands. Your thieving high is instantly quashed when you see who’s calling.

Of all fucking… George.

You roll your eyes before hanging up, tossing the phone to the side as you start rifling through the old keepsake box. You flip through family photo albums and lovingly cradle old stuffies. The phone buzzes. You ignore it. You find one of your mother’s old necklaces, and because you’re desperate for anything that can ground you, slip it over your head. The cool heart locket rests just under your collarbone, and you clutch it with one hand as you keep exploring. The phone keeps buzzing. It’s only almost half an hour later when you realise something about this is strange.

Why is George… not blocked? You glance down at the vibrating object like it’s radioactive, a despairing frown pulling at your face. Cautiously, you pick it up, making sure not to open the notifications lest it tell George you read any of his messages.

He’s… apologising for not being there for your birthday. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. And it’s not even a proper apology, it’s one of those ‘I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings’ bullcrap. He keeps spamming you, and eventually, you realise that he’s not going to just stop.

You decide to nip this in the bud quickly because even remembering his cheating face makes you feel like throwing up.

‘You’: Why are you contacting me?

‘George <3’: Seriously? Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday. I was busy, you know that.

Stupidly, you reply:

‘You’: ‘No, seriously, why are you contacting me? I’m done with you.’

You wonder how you ever loved this jackass. Even if he was obviously more of a jackass here, than where you’d come from. He was just better at pretending there. You keep scrolling, ignoring the new texts that pop up. Your stomach sours at the number of texts he himself had ignored, of the amount of ‘sorry baby, can’t come tonight’, the begging, the pleading.

No, he wasn’t worse at pretending. He just didn’t care.

You wonder if this could have been you, further along down the line. Abuse happens slowly, right? Like a frog in a pot. You’d have forgiven and forgotten, written away his worse behaviours till you couldn’t anymore. Till you couldn’t leave, till you were trapped.

You think George Lancaster would’ve tried to. He would’ve isolated you from everyone you had left if he hadn’t screwed up and got caught.

You realise now there were a lot of red flags in your relationship with George. Molly always hated him and he hated her. He’d constantly complain about how much time you spent with her, spamming you with texts when you went out.

You were only… only two days since you’d actually broken up with him. Which was sort of crazy to think about. You feel like you’ve lived eons since then. Like that one traumatic incident aged you thirty years. Anyway, you still hadn’t processed the whole George thing. You’d been sort of busy fighting for your life.

‘George’: I’m here, can you at least open the door so we can talk face to face?

Freeze. A knock sounds, and your head snaps up to the front door. You don’t move. You just wish it away. The knocking only gets louder and louder.

You feel like a dumb girl in a horror movie as you walk towards the door, unlocking it and creaking the knob open. George Lancaster stands on the other side, and before you can slam it in his face, he grabs you by the arm and yanks you out of the door. And then he’s pulling you to the elevator, even as you try and get your bearings, get yourself away from him.

“You can’t just ignore me like this,” George says, pissed off to high hell, “We’re going to miss the reservation I booked specifically for you. I told you it was happening today and-”

There’s white noise between your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Told you? It wasn’t in any of the texts. He’s still talking even as the elevator dings, even as he shoves you in a white sports car that’s half parked on the curb. Even as he drives his way through Gotham’s streets, he won’t fucking shut up.

Why are you letting this happen to you? Why aren't you fighting back, wrenching yourself from his grasp? He takes you into a restaurant, one so upscale that normally you wouldn’t be able to get in for months, and your head snaps from staring socialites to watching politicians to gawking celebrities. You have the eyes of the world on you right now, and they’re all watching George yell at you.

And you can’t find your voice.

It's like a scab you can't stop picking at. Like you think this is what you deserve or something. And it's not. You know it's not. And yet you follow obediently, chastised and embarrassed, as he pulls you through the restaurant. When he picks a table in the centre of the room, you don’t protest. When he chooses your meal for you, even though it’s not to your taste, you don’t protest.

Looking at George, scrolling lazily on his phone, your hands clench against the table. They’re sweating, shaking, nails digging into your palms.

You… you didn’t have to break up with him again, did you? You realised it earlier, but you didn’t- it didn’t really sink in. Your first breakup with George Lancaster was a miserable traumatic experience, and it had been in the solitary streets of Gotham’s Narrows. This one, this one would be seen by literally everyone.

Nauseous. You feel so damn nauseous, your mouth dry as you swallow down bile. This was ridiculous. You couldn’t stand seeing his face. Was he texting her right now? God, did she even know? You’d just stormed out that night, running from what you’d seen.

George had chased after you. Had he left her there? Your stomach churned at the idea. You had to hate her on principle but, well, you also had to sympathise with her. Contradictions, that was the average you. You didn’t want to help this random girl. Didn’t want to have to ever think of her again.

…Staring at George, a definitively awful person, you can’t do it. Can’t just leave her to it.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you say.

“What?” George replies, not even looking up from his phone.

“I’m breaking up with you!” you shout. It’s not even intentional, just a result of being pushed too far, of breaking too easily.

The restaurant goes quiet. Guess you’re up for another scandal then. Whatever, it wasn’t like you would’ve lasted much longer anyway. This was all too complicated for your recently traumatised mind to handle. And it was just too damn stupid to bother with anyway. All of this was fucking stupid.

You included.

Just pull the bandaid off, right? You could already see how this version of you had so many scandals to her name. You probably should start giving a shit. Or at least trying to. You don’t think you want to, though.

George puts his phone down face down on the tablecloth, giving you a calm look. That slightly pitying stare activates something in your brain you didn’t really know was there. It’s a type of rage you haven’t known since you were a kindergartner and one of the other girls said you couldn’t play princesses. Since your first service job where your manager felt you up. Just pure, petty, anger. The type of anger ready to burn the world down as long as it burns whoever pissed you off as well. He opens his mouth, probably to say something condescending, and your hand whips out and snatches his phone.

“Hey!” George says instead, his eyes widening.

You turn the phone back on. Hm, passcode. You flip it around and use facial recognition to open it. Despite the fact that George wears the most comically shocked expression, with saucer-wide eyes and a mouth open to catch flies, it unlocks. Nice.

“Hey! What are you doing?” George demands, reaching over the table for his phone.

You twist away from his reach. Password. You flip the phone, and despite George’s comically shocked expression, it still unlocks. He shouts again when it does, probably realising that you might be taking this seriously. That he might actually be in trouble. That his sugar mummy might not take too kindly to the numerous texts to other women on his phone.

…You really can’t believe you’re a sugar mummy. And for George of all people. What a horrendous waste of money, it’s fucking tragic.

He’s got the texts with someone known as ‘Pizza Hut’ pulled up, with some very flirtatious messages. You scroll up furiously, ducking under George as he gets up from the table and tries to get the phone. Still, backing up, the sight of a very poorly shot dick pic of George’s has you grimacing. Your focus on the picture, trying to decide whether his penis looked so unappealing before you’d learnt of his betrayal, has you distracted when one of the servers come around.

And, well, shirt, meet soup. Very, very hot soup. Everyone? Meet a screeching, klutzy moron.

George takes the chance to advance on you, snatching his phone from you. He doesn’t even seem to care you’re currently getting third-degree burns. The sting scorches through the thin fabric of your dress shirt, burning your skin. George grabs you again, his grip harsh enough this time you know it will bruise, and you can’t really say why you do what you do at that moment.

Your aunt used to have a chihuahua. It was an ugly, grumpy thing. She’d rescued it late into its life, and it had been treated poorly beforehand. It didn’t like to be touched at all and used to run from anyone who tried. And if you tried to touch it? Cornered it?

Well, of course, it started biting.

George’s howl is the most satisfying thing you’ve ever heard. His squeal of “bitch!” might be even more so. He slaps you away from him, and the sound echoes in the restaurant. Your face stings. When you land ass first in the puddle of still-too-hot soup, you wonder if you might try and bite him again. You don’t think you even broke the skin, considering you can’t taste blood. The other patrons stare on in genuine horror, like they’ve never seen a messy breakup before. One woman raises a hand to her mouth, and gasps-

You find yourself staring up at a furious George, one with a menace in his eyes you’ve never seen before. You wonder, idly, if he’s ever hit you before. Well, not you, but ‘you’. You realise now that he has the capacity for it, that he probably always did.

“What the fuck!?” he hisses, angry eyes darting from side to side, “Biting me?! In fucking public?! Have you lost it, you crazy bitch?! And you got my phone fucking soaked in soup!”

“Did you buy it?” you ask, wiping your mouth with your sleeve to get George’s dirty taste out of your mouth.

He blinks, confused, thrown off by your question, “Huh?”

“Did you buy that phone?” you repeat, your staring starting to turn into a furious glare.

You don’t think he did. Your George had never been able to afford those sorts of things, he’d been as broke as you were. Of course, you’d seen him lust over those items, but you’d always managed to convince him not to go into debt over silly things like sports cars and fancy phones. And even then, you’d been the one to buy him a PS5.

He looks down at the phone and back at you, and you can see his jaw tick.

“I bought it. That’s mine.”

“It was a gift. You’re going to be such a bitter bitch to take back everything you gave me? Gonna leave me out on the fucking street?” he says, spittle flying with angry words.

This was escalating fast. Maybe before you’d have been cowed by his words, but you were genuinely off your rocker by now and were very much willing to tango with this bastard. Like yes, he did terrify you, but so did everything else. You could handle this much at least. You weren’t ready to back down.

“And if I did? What then George? What could you even fucking do?” you throw back, voice rising to match his.

“It’s not your money either, it’s theirs, you little leech!” says the pot.

“Does it matter?” replies the kettle.

Pushing to your feet, you find George without another answer. He stands between you and the exit. With the plain murderous rage on his face, you think he’ll try to grab you again if you run past. He wouldn’t bite you back, but he might slap you or something. So instead, like any good coward does, you run straight to the girl’s bathroom. It hasn’t failed you yet, and you doubt it will today.

You shove into the bathroom, past a woman doing her makeup. Her head bobs up and down as she takes in your seemingly infamous face, and your stained shirt. You stride as far away from her as possible, darting into the last bathroom stall and sitting on the closed toilet lid. You pull your knees to your chest and hiss out a sound of frustration when that presses the sticky liquid against your chest and pants. Not your brightest idea, but you were sort of running on fumes right now.

The bathroom stall is extremely clean. One thing you were quickly realising about rich people is they didn’t have to suffer shitty public bathrooms. You didn’t think they deserved it. Like customer service jobs, and traffic, they built character.

What were you doing? Right, trying not to cry. You’re doing much better than yesterday. Still, sitting on top of the toilet’s closed lid, your phone pressed to your face, you wouldn’t say you’re doing ‘good’.

But because you knew George was too much of a pussy to ever enter the woman’s bathrooms, you refuse to move a single inch. You don’t want to go out there. At all. At all, at all. You’d tried to call Jeanine, but she hadn’t answered. Some P.A. she was. You still weren’t going to fire her. Then you remember that she told you she was going out later, and that she’d left a card with you. Digging through your pocket, you decide it’s finally time to die when you realise you lost the card somewhere along the line.

So, she wasn’t going to come save you as your knight in shining armour.

You can’t remember Molly’s number. Who did these days? That was your phone’s job. So you were left with… this. You were left with this. Four blocked numbers and a third had sent an automatic reply because he was driving. Alfred was probably busy. Weren’t butlers always very busy?

…Rich people weren’t often very busy. They had butlers and assistants to do all their chores. You unblock all four of the Waynes that you have on your phone.

The first thing you notice is the amount of texts between ‘you’ and Dick. Scrolling and scrolling, you find most of them are him checking up on you and one-word replies from the old you. He’s friendly and accepting, even when you respond in cruel and aggressive tones. The further back you scroll, the kinder your replies are. At one point it seems like the two of you had a good relationship.

You check the other chats. Tim’s message log is filled with coffee requests sent back and forth between you, Damian’s is completely empty, and Bruce’s has had no response from your phone in years. But eventually, you scroll back far enough that you find an actual conversation instead of just ‘Call Alfred’ repeated every few days.

‘You’: I miss them.

‘Bruce Wayne’: I know. I miss them too.

You press the back button, sighing. That felt like you’d seen something you shouldn’t have, like you’d peeked into someone’s diary. Which was unbelievably stupid. All of this is unbelievably stupid. You should just leave, you should just be brave. Two days ago you faced off against one of your worst fears, but today you couldn’t even handle George Lancaster.

You want someone to rescue you. You know no one will unless you ask. It makes you choke on your own self-disgust. This is the second time in one day. God, maybe you should just do it yourself. It’s not like you couldn’t pay for your own Uber.

And still, you find yourself clicking on a name and begging. Skin crawling, you type and retype the text probably a hundred times. You go from long apologies to begging to rants you never intended to send in the first place. Tap, tap, tap, and then you delete, delete, delete.

What you settle on is simple.

‘You’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

Maybe a bit too simple. You cross your arms and tuck yourself in the good ol’ fetal position. You feel like you’ve spent half your time holding yourself like this the past three days.

‘Dick Grayson’: I’ll be there in five.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

[withleeknow]

do you ever just think about pining best friend hyunjin?

hyunjin, who treasures his personal space and quality time with himself more than anything, but somehow, he never has a problem with it when you're the one in his bubble.

hyunjin, who can be sharp and witty but gets tongue-tied every time you so much as chuckle at one of his jokes.

hyunjin, who carries two umbrellas with him at all times because he knows you always forget yours, and you get sick easily if you get even a little bit of rain on you.

hyunjin, who can't remember his own address after 1.5 bottle of flavored soju (it's peach, btw) but can perfectly recite your go-to breakfast order from memory, fishing it out of the inebriated depths of his mind like invaluable wisdom. oat milk latte with a drizzle of caramel syrup. almond croissant stuffed with cream cheese and strawberries.

hyunjin, who sometimes forgets to breathe when he sees you wearing one of his sweatshirts.

hyunjin, who absolutely hates it whenever one of his housemates borrows his favorite shampoo. but you? oh, when the thief is you, he suddenly has no qualms at all. maybe he secretly wishes that you'd do it more often. do it whenever you stay over. do it every week. ask him to buy it for you so you can use it every day. if that means that you're walking around smelling like him? well, he certainly isn't opposed to that idea.

hyunjin, who thinks about your mango lip balm a lot more than a best friend should. and your strawberry one. and cherry. maybe the lip balms aren't the issue here.

hyunjin, who thinks he must be on the verge of a damn stroke when you intertwine your fingers with his and call him your boyfriend to ward off unwanted attention in public.

hyunjin, whose sketchbook is filled with drawings that other people would think are just random things he sees in his every day life. blue tote bags. night lights shaped like a toaster. gold bangle bracelets. whale mugs. beige claw clips. lemon cheesecake yogurt cups. in a way, they're right. these are just objects that he sees daily. but only he knows that they're miscellaneous reminders of you. your favorite accessories, favorite silly purchases, favorite desserts. all you. everything is you.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #blurbs

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Seventeen as fake dating scenarios

⟪‘95 + ‘96 line version⟫

other versions: ⟪‘97 + ‘98 + '99 line version⟫

SEUNGCHEOL: saving you from unwanted attention.

You weren’t entirely sure what had possessed you to come to this club that night. It’s not that you didn’t like parties. Rather, you had heard plenty of disturbing rumours about this part of town. And yet, here you were, at the bar, nervously sipping your drink while trying to keep an eye out for your friends.

“Come here often, pretty lady?” came a question from your right, along with a breath that smelled of all kinds of alcohol and freshly smoked tobacco. You willed yourself not to cringe.

“I’m not here to talk to guys like you,” you said and tried to walk away.

He caught your wrist in his hand, pulling you back. “Now, now, no need to be rude. How about I buy you a drink?”

Instead of even considering humouring him, you wondered if anyone would hear you scream over the booming volume of the music. Luckily, you wouldn’t have to.

Your wrist was pulled free from his grasp at a moment’s notice. A broad-shouldered man stood between you and the guy, towering over his seated form, practically oozing with annoyance. “How about you stop hitting on my girl?”

Hold on. Your eyes widened.

He turned to you and offered his hand, smiling kindly before sending you a conspiratory wink. “Let’s go, darling. You said you’d save me a dance before we went home.”

You breathed out, trying your best to not alert the other – possibly much worse – guy. “Right. Let’s go.”

As he led you towards the dance floor, his hand hold yours ever so gently, he told you, “I’m sorry for doing that. You must be scared. I just worried he’d do something to you if I didn’t intervene.”

He seemed nice and attractive enough, you decided after a moment of thought. “Alright. I demand a dance as an apology.”

JEONGHAN: swindling your way through a stupid bet

“Listen, if you do me this favour, I’ll split the money with you, 50/50.”

You should’ve never taken that offer. Not from Yoon Jeonghan. It was taking every ounce of your self-control to not slap his hand every time it came to rest on your waist. You despised this man and everything he did and said and thought. Was 100 bucks worth it?

“Are you guys going to the festival this weekend?” Mingyu wondered, eyeing you two suspiciously. As your best friend, he was more than sceptical and you couldn’t even blame him.

“Of course! My darling is so excited to go see BTOB live. Right, my darling?”

A pinch at your waist reminded you to smile a little nicer and when you turned to “smile” at Jeonghan, you glared at him instead, warning him silently. Two could play that game. Through gritted teeth, you spoke, “Of course. I can’t wait. I hope they perform our song.”

“Our song?”

“Your song?” Mingyu blinked. “You guys have a song? What is it?”

You smiled as innocently as you could, daring Jeonghan to pull you into his shenanigans again. “Yeah, what song is it, my love?”

You were sure every person within a mile of you could hear the gears turning in Jeonghan’s head as he tried to think of a song? “Right. Our song.”

Mingyu’s eyebrows rose in suspicion. “That being?”

Jeonghan relaxed back into his seat. “Of course it’s Movie. (Y/n) and I love to dance to that song. It was our first dance.”

“That’s not a particularly cute song.” Mingyu’s suspicions were rising. 

You reminded yourself that there was 100 bucks on the line and said, “Well, we’re not a particularly cutesy couple. I think Movie suits us: it’s fun!”

“Right! And we always—“ you could feel Jeonghan’s venomous glare as he spoke, “–have so much fun.”

JOSHUA: fake proposal for free dessert

“Do you think they offer free dessert for proposals?”

Joshua caught on quickly, already reaching into his pocket. “Supposedly. Or so I’ve read from about a hundred online reviews. Do you want to or shall I?”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” you suggested and he agreed. A quick game determined that you were the winner.

Joshua sighed and let out a soft whine. “But I’m wearing my good pants.”

“Don’t you dare slack,” you warned him. “I expect a proper proposal, one knee and all.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, but the dessert better be good. And!” He lifted a finger to point it at you almost accusingly. “If you even try to do the “but what about your wife and kids” thing again, I will make sure you'll live to regret it.”

“Oh, come on!” You laughed. “It was one time and I agreed eventually, did I not?”

“Yeah, after embarrassing me.”

“But the waiter gave you even more dessert for your embarrassment,” you pointed out. “So if anything, you kind of owe me.”

“This is the last time I do this with you. Only because I doubt anyone would ever propose to you in any other context.”

“Oh, ouch. Just break my heart while you’re at it.”

JUNHUI: partnering up for amusement park rides

“I’m just saying, you’re lonely, I’m lonely, most rides require people to pair up. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer not to pair up with a complete stranger for every ride.”

He contemplated. “… I hate that you’re kind of right.”

“Okay, perfect. So we’re best friends, going to rides together. Cool?”

“Cool.”

It was not cool. While waiting in line for the newest roller coaster, a sweet middle-aged lady with her daughter tapped on your shoulder to ask you, “You guys are just adorable! How long have you guys been a couple?”

“We’re not—”

"It’s our anniversary today,” Junhui piped up before you could finish your sentence. Your brain completely froze like a 2002 Dell laptop trying to run Minecraft.

Your lack of reaction didn’t stop him. His arm wrapped around you snuggly as he made up an elaborate back-story about how you met while volunteering at a cat shelter and how he asked you out and how he had asked you to move in this morning – none of which was even remotely close to a truth.

“Why would you make all that up?” you asked him as the ride was about to start. “Are you insane?”

He grimaced. “I panicked! Besides – it got us a ride ticket for free, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, because the staff think we’re celebrating our anniversary.”

“Then complain less and remember your back-story. Who knows what other discounts we could get if we keep this up.”

It was then that you realised that you had created a monster.

SOONYOUNG: fake dating to avoid an arranged marriage

“Your Highness, you can’t keep dodging marriage proposals like this. I doubt your parents care that you’re ‘dating’–” he drew air quotes around the word “–the royal pet caretaker.”

“Well, it seems to be working well enough,” you pointed out and affectionately rested your chin against his shoulder as your mother – the queen – passed by the opened doors of the room. You glared after her. “I don’t understand why they want me to marry so bad. It’s not like I’m heir to the throne.”

“And you never will be if you keep acting like we’re an item.”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it, Soonyoung,” you scolded him playfully and poked his puffed out cheeks.

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Yeah?” You smiled. “You must love all the perks of dating royalty without actually dating royalty.”

He laughed. “Well, I can’t say no to getting an extra dessert after dinner.”

“There’s my boy.” You hummed in thought. “Should we step it up a bit? For more perks for you and less pressure for me?”

“What do you have in mind, Your Highness?”

“First, stop calling me Your Highness,” he grimaced at the idea, “and second, we have to show them we’re serious about this. We have to step up our game.”

“What exactly do you have in mind, princess?”

You smirked just as you heard your mother’s voice coming closer again. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – whether it was out of his own free will or because this was a royal order, you would never know.

WONWOO: a cover story for an investigation

“I just don’t think that’s right,” Wonwoo said while staring at the board, his brows furrowed in concentration. “What would be her motive?”

“I don’t know. Money?” you suggested between flipping through the pages of the report you'd been sent. “Maybe she was jealous of her husband’s daughter from the previous marriage and—”

The doorbell rang.

“Please be the pizza guy,” you whispered under you breath but hid the report regardless and rushed to the door. You could never be too careful in this line of work.

Instead, Mrs Yoon – the very woman you had been discussing – smiled at you at the door. “Hi, dear! I just came to check on you; I feel like I haven’t seen you all day!”

You forced on a smile. “Wonwoo and I have just been so busy thinking about how to decorate the house – make it more our own, you know?”

“Oh right! Is your darling husband home too? I wasn’t interrupting, was I?” She winked and you didn’t like the implications behind that. She then leaned over to whisper slyly, “Who knows, maybe you’ll need to decorate a nursery soon.”

You gulped. “Oh, not yet, surely. We’re still—We haven’t even—”

“Darling, who is it?” Wonwoo’s voice sounded like the that of an angel coming to save you from this awkward situation. You breathed out in relief as he added, “Can you come help me move this cupboard?”

“Well,” you smiled apologetically, “it sounds like I’m needed. I’d love to catch up tomorrow though!”

“I’ll see you then, sweetheart!” She left with another wink. You could not have closed the door faster.

“She isn’t catching onto us, is she?” Wonwoo wondered when you returned to him.

You slumped into the sofa. “Nope. If anything, she’s buying our cover a little too well.”

JIHOON: fake dating because he lied to his friends

“I still can’t believe you posted an advertisement for a fake girlfriend,” you mused as you watched him working out.

He scoffed. “I still can’t believe you actually responded to it. What if I was a creep?”

“Fair point.” Not that you’d ever admit that you only responded to the ad because you recognised his name and phone number because you had been harbouring a crush on him this entire year. He never had to know. “So, why are we at the gym? Who are we meeting here?”

“Literally all of my friends that matter. So… I don’t know. How does the whole fake dating thing work?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the boss.”

“I don’t know. I assumed that because you answered the ad, you must have some experience.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but unfortunately, I do not have any experience. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Well—” You paused, ears burning all of a sudden. “Not everything everything. Like, I have boundaries but—”

“Ay-yo, Jihoon!” Soonyoung’s familiar voice filled the gym. “Are you ready to get absolutely shredded and—Oh.” The previously loud tiger turned into a shy hamster. “Hi. Who are you?”

“That’s (Y/n),” Jihoon introduced with a smile that just naturally screamed confidence, “my girlfriend. The one I told you about.”

Soonyoung’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you were serious?! You have a girlfriend?!” He turned to you. “Are you really his girlfriend?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes, earning a short laugh from you. He then walked over and rested his hand on your shoulder, leaning over to kiss your temple. “Baby, meet Soonyoung. He doesn’t get any less annoying than that.”

NOTE: i wrote these as an attempt to get rid of the stupid writer's block i've been dealing with all month lol

#seventeen reaction #seventeen scenarios #svt reactions #seventeen x reader #seungcheol scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #joshua scenarios #junhui scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #jihoon scenarios

[whoahoney]

Knocked Up

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Oneshot

Summary: Reader and Eddie planned to never have kids, having dreams of travels and a honeymoon phase that never ends, until one rainy day when Y/n takes a test..

Content Warnings: adult language, adult themes, unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, angst, suspected cheating, fluff, Eddie being a baby hog

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n and Eddie were together for years. They’d graduated, moved in together, gotten jobs, and started a nest egg, also known as the rainy day fund.

They had meticulously planned their life together in order to avoid ending up like their own parents who seemed to fuck up at every turn, not to mention while having kids.

Which is exactly why they decided they wouldn’t have any. It wasn’t a hard decision, neither of them finding themselves to be baby people and hoped to give each other all of the time and attention they hadn’t received in their upbringings, wishing to travel and live a nomadic life.

Though they didn’t end up traveling right away, they knew they had time for it. They’d come a long way from the inseparable couple skipping class to smoke and makeout all those years ago; Eddie landed a job in a nice garage making a steady rate, while Y/n worked as a waitress at a grill downtown. They’d been diligent in putting money back for a rainy day or ‘something really really cool’ as Eddie would say.

And did the rainy day come.

Literally.

One rainy morning in April, Y/n paced nervously in the trailer, a developing pregnancy test in the other room on the bathroom counter. “How fucking long is this supposed to take?” She grumbled to herself, picking up the timer for the thousandth time as it went off. She yelped and fumbled with the knob trying to silence the ringing, tossing it onto the couch as she sprinted into the bathroom.

Her heart hammered as she picked up the test, the two lines reading positive making it cease altogether. “Holy fucking hell.” She breathed, the newly familiar nausea twisting in her stomach and sent to the toilet with a lurch.

Y/n spent the rest of the day hoping to figure out how to tell Eddie what was going on. She’d been ignoring the signs for a month, too afraid to face the music and finally put her mind to rest. The tender breasts, the constant stomach ache, dizziness, and of course the missed period. Eddie had asked her if she’d had her monthly visitor, to which she panicked and said ‘yes.’

She hated herself for lying, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her that her period was late until he asked. Truth be told she never really paid attention to her cycle before and this time it bit her in the ass.

Y/n worried about how Eddie would react; knowing he didn’t have any plans on being a father and how he’d feel about her lying about such a heavy topic. Part of her feared he’d be upset with her, maybe even enough to leave her.

She debated for a while between procrastinating and ripping the bandaid off, not knowing which way would be easier. If Eddie loved her as much as he showed he did, then this should be easy.

She decided to cook him his favorite meal to start, complete with a dessert that was his own grandma’s recipe. Grandma Edna was one of Eddie’s favorite people, her cookie brownies being his favorite because ‘It’s like Dr. Frankenstein decided to combine two desserts. It’s ingenious, the woman is a God.’ She chuckled at the thought while she poured the oil in the pot to fry the chicken.

As the oil heated up, an intense and foul aroma permeated the trailer that sent her stomach churning and her head spinning. Y/n held her t-shirt over her nose to fend off the smell that’s never bothered her before as she checked the coloring of the food and put it back in the oil for longer.

Y/n slumped against the opposite counter, the window over the sink shoved open as wide as it would go. She took deep cleansing breaths and did her best to push through, telling herself she just needed to eat something though nothing sounded safe enough.

At 6:00, like every evening, Eddie came home from work in his grease spotted uniform, calling “Honey, I’m home!” as he entered.

He quickly dropped his lunchbox on the counter with his keys and undid the buttons of his blue garage jumpsuit to strip it off, leaving him in his boxers and a tank top.

“Aw, you’re making fried chicken?! AND mashed potatoes?” His eyes bugged as he struggled to kick the fabric off his foot, carrying the rumple of stains to his lady, planting a kiss on her cheek and wrapping her in his arms the best he could without getting her dirty.

Eddie took note of the gradual change over the last month or so, how short she had become in conversation, how she had made excuses about not feeling good, running to the toilet all hours of the day; he really started to worry about her and her mental health, maybe even if her feelings towards him were the problem.

He decided to keep his cool, making sure he was doing his duty by her to give her comfort and space when needed, and only assuming she’s upset with him when she’s explicitly told him so.

He figured today was another hard day, her glum and sullen look on her face evident of her discomfort. “Could you help me get these out? I heard coke and dish soap might help.” He said, showing her the spots in question before tossing it towards the laundry room with an easy smile on his lips, one he probably wasn’t even aware of it was so common with her. “Uh, yeah, of course. I’ll give it my best shot.” She nodded and stirred the fluffy mash on the stove.

“Knew I could count on you.” He said before kissing her cheek on his way past, going to the bathroom to start the shower and let the water heat up. Y/n moved the chicken from the boiling oil to the plate she had prepared for them to rest, turning off the stove and thanking the powers that be she made it through without puking or burning anything.

“What’s you do today? Did you enjoy your day off? Are you feeling any better?” Eddie asked, her stomach lurching in response. Her feet moved before she could give any warning that she’d come barreling through the four foot by four foot bathroom they shared to puke in the toilet.

“Baby??” He questioned as she heaved the remnants of the saltines she managed to scarf down during the day. She wiped her mouth and tried to brace herself against the toilet to stand though she wobbled.

“Hey, hey, I gotcha, don’t worry.” Eddie cooed, wrapping his arms gently around her middle and pulling her to sit with her back up against him.

She leaned back against his warm chest, the linoleum floor cold on her legs. The shower head rained hot water, the steam started to fill the top of the room, and the pitter patter of the water drops thudded against the thick shower curtain in a soothing rhythm as he held her close.

“You need to go to the doctor and figure out what’s wrong with you, I’m done waiting, I can’t do it anymore.” He whispered, his brow crinkled in worry.

Y/n sighed, a sob escaping her lips as she did. Tears began to roll down her cheeks while she tried to gain composure, though it didn’t work. Instead she pressed a hand to her mouth and let the sobs roll over her body.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked as she turned her face into his chest, her hot tears falling against him as a realization hit, “Oh! Is it your period again? Already?? Are you hurting? I can get you some midol—“ He tried to stand, to go into the kitchen and grab some pain medication to make it all go away when she reached out to hold his leg with her whole body, another sob escaping her.

“It’s not that, Eddie. I-I don’t wanna tell you—I do! I do wanna tell you, but I’m scared. I’m scared you’re gonna be so upset.” She heaved, keeping her hold on his leg as he looked down at her, the confusion and alarm evident in his eyes.

Why did she feel so guilty? What had she kept from him? Had she cheated on him? Was that why she was throwing up for a month?

“Y/n, baby, you’re scaring me. Did something happen? Di-Did you make a mistake?” He said, trying his best to ask the questions flooding his mind without breaking down and crying at the mere thought of what they have being gone.

“I mean.. yeah—Yeah I made a mistake... We made a mistake, actually.” She trailed off, looking at the small heaping trash bin by the toilet. Eddie blanched and sunk back to the floor with her, still unsure as to what she meant when she started digging through an abnormal amount of toilet paper on top of the trash.

Before he could ask her what she was doing, she turned to join him by the tub and handed him a closed pregnancy text box. Eddie looked at it and then to her and cocked his head. “Open it.” She whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

Eddie popped the top open and dumped the two sticks onto the floor between them, flipping them over so he could see the result window with two bright pink lines. “What does that mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice cracking when he reached just barely above a whisper.

Y/n took some shallow breaths as her body and face went numb with fear. “I’m so sorry, Eddie..” She mumbled, picking at her chipped black fingernail polish, still left over from the last time Eddie painted them for her.

“What do you mean you’re sorry?” He asked, his eyes filled with both horror and wonder. “What do you mean, what— I'm pregnant—”

“Is it mine?? I’m asking if I’m—Did you—Y’know, I know shit happens, I know sometimes people hurt the people they love, sometimes mistakes happen—“ He rambled in a panic, his eyes wide and a couple tears escaping from the corners.

Y/n’s jaw dropped, “Eddie, of course it is! There’s nobody else it could possibly be, I haven’t slept with anyone else in, what? Almost.. 6 years, now?”

She quickly counted the numbers on her fingers absentmindedly as Eddie threw his arms around her and laid her down on the floor, holding her to his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. His heart started hammering for reasons completely different than before. He couldn’t help the smile that refused to leave his lips, and the tears slipping from the corners of his eyes couldn’t be helped.

“Did you really think I’d cheat on you?” She asked with an almost quivering voice. Eddie shook his head vehemently, “No, no, no, just—you’ve been.. weird for a few weeks now and I thought I’d let you come to me since I was constantly asking what was on your mind, I figured if you were upset with me you’d tell me, you know? But then… you said something about a mistake, a-and the worst thing my mind could come up with with was you cheating but then the tests said you’re pregnant and-and you seemed so upset I couldn’t help but think—“

“Aw, honey, no.” Y/n cooed, her hand stroking Eddie’s cheek lovingly as she shook her head in earnest. Eddie’s cheeks shined with tears as he leaned his face into her soft hand. “I was upset because we’ve always said we didn’t want kids, Ed, we have plans! We can’t live with a baby on the road, we can’t see the world, there’s barely even wheelchair access anywhere, how are we supposed to lug a baby and stroller around the House of Blues?? And I lied about my period and.. I was so scared you’d be angry. Maybe angry enough you wouldn’t wanna—“

“Y/n.” Eddie said sternly, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her eyes to his. “I know I said I don’t want kids, I know this deviates from the plan, but I’m not angry. I’ll take this over you cheating on me any day!” He tried to make her smile, which he did with little success.

“Nothing could make me hate you, Y/n, you’re the best person I know and I somehow tricked you into falling in love with me. I wouldn’t ever do anything to jeopardize that.” He tried again, being met with her real smile spreading wide across her face to his delight. “And if there’s anyone I want to try to raise a kid with, it’s you… I really think we could do a good job together—and it’s not like we’re alone anymore! We’ll always have Wayne and the rest of our chosen family.. and I hope you know I’d never leave our family.”

And when he said it, it became real.

Our family.

“Our family?” She whispered, like a safety blanket was draped around her shoulders to make everything feel safe and okay. “Yeah, baby, you are my family, you always have been. And now we’re gonna be a real family, with a baby and everything!” He smiled and touched his nose to hers, gently cupping her cheeks in his hands and stroking her skin.

“I love you, Eddie.” She said in a whisper against his lips before kissing him deeply. “I love you too, baby. Forever and ever and the rest of time.” He declared as he flipped them over for her to sit on top of his lap this time. Their lips were warm and soft working against each other, the sweet taste of his saliva trickling into her mouth as they kissed. Eddie ended with a handful of kisses sprinkled across her face, their tears dry and smiles lingering.

“C’mon, mama, get in the shower with me and I’ll wash your hair.” He sat up and curled a lock of her hair around his finger, the offer earning him a forehead kiss.

“Already calling me mama, huh?” She teased as she tried to stand without him, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder before she could. She shot him an inquisitive look as he stood, holding his hand out for her.

“What? I need to make sure my lady always has help, even more so now!” He pointed out as he checked the water temperature again

Y/n giggled at his protective instincts as he began undressing. “We definitely gotta get out of here before Ozzy slash Axel comes.” He mentioned casually as he tossed his pants into the hall.

“Ozzy slash Axel? And what if it’s a girl?” She asked incredulously.

“Ozzy’s the girl’s name! You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be badass.” He said as he stripped off his tank top, revealing his pale torso as Y/n shamelessly ogled him, “We’ll see about that, daddy.” She teased, slipping off her shirt and shorts from the day.

Eddie chuckled at the nickname, “I don’t think I’ll get used to that.” He scoffed.

“Is it different than you calling me mama?” She smarted with her arms crossed.

Eddie turned back to her with amused wide eyes, “Uh, yeah. It’s completely different now. I’m not just your daddy anymore, I’m someone’s actual daddy now. Or at least I will be.” He glanced down at Y/n’s middle as she lifted her shirt.

She tried not to look at Eddie after she noticed her rounded lower stomach, something she assumed was just bloat until today. “I don’t know if I’ll get used to that, either...” He chuckled, not hiding his gaze at her abdomen.

“Eddie, I’m like two seconds pregnant, quit looking at me like that.” She mumbled with pink cheeks as she rid herself her underwear and stepped under the water with his help.

“I know, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t already look different. You said it’s been more than a month now, right? Your body’s already building a home, isn’t that amazing?” He asked as he joined her, kneeling in front of her naked body as he had a million times before, except this time his focus was slightly shifted north.

He held her hips in both hands, studying the front of her in a new way, turning her side to side as if he were inspecting her like she was the first of her kind. He couldn’t help his smile or the gleam in his eye as he looked up at her. “Y’know when I met you I thought the idea of a nuclear family was hell?” He asked as he stood, looking down at her while he moved all of her hair behind her ears and shoulders.

Y/n shrugged, “I, mean, yeah, still is.”

He smiled and tilted her chin up, her hair meeting the stream of water as he did, getting her hair all nice and warm and wet for him. “Yeah, well, as stubborn as I am, you were able to change that pretty quick.” He sighed, squeezing some soap into his palms. Y/n gasped softly, tilting her chin back down to meet his eye as he turned her by her shoulders to wash her hair.

“Yeah, I know, so soft and gross, ew.” He joked, smirking when he saw her shoulders bouncing with a chuckle. “But it’s true. You’re just—you’re so good.. at taking care of me, at being a person, at being a friend, you’re good. Great, even.. the best.” He whispered, massaging his fingers into her scalp and working the soap into a lather.

“Truth be told, I’ve been holding back on telling you because I knew you didn’t want kids and I wanted to respect that. Cause either way, baby, I’m happy with you, and I’m not making you have any baby you don’t wanna have.. so if this isn’t something you want, that is okay with me, truly.” He stopped his movements and held his hands on her shoulders to speak next to her ear.

Y/n turned to him again, her eyes wrought with longing. “Eddie, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But you’ll be even more happy to know I want this. Through and through.” She nodded in finality, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he brought her in for a tight hug.

“I’m gonna take such good care of you guys.” He mumbled into her shoulder, more to himself than to her.

After that, Eddie spent his spare time taking on odd jobs to make extra cash to add to the ‘rainy day fund’ which was quickly changed to ‘the baby fund’, while Y/n contributed half of her tips. The couple was satisfied with their growing chunk of money, the feeling of being real adults swelling their hearts with pride for themselves and one another.

They’d stay up late at night talking about the what ifs and the scenarios of late nights and early mornings and potty training and tying shoes.

Somewhere in there they got around to the deeper parts of their childhoods and dissected the uncomfortable and painful parts, figuring out where their parents went wrong and what they’ll do differently, some nights ending in an embrace and tears at the stories traded and relived.

One night, Eddie laid with his head on her chest, tracing shapes into the smooth skin of her hard and prominent bump as they watched Family Feud before bed. Like a ball rolling under a blanket, Eddie saw the skin of Y/n’s belly move as the baby punched or kicked a foot, sending their mother groaning and their father yelling.

“What the fuck!!” He exclaimed, jumping back in horror. Y/n laughed and held her stomach until the baby got comfortable. “They’re moving, that’s all. You finally caught them in action, I told you they’re strong! That felt like a fist or an elbow, I’m not quite sure.” She said looking back down at her now lopsided belly from where the baby rolled over to another side.

“Come look.” She whispered to keep from disturbing the sleeping fetus. Eddie craned his neck over to see what she was looking at. “Oh my god, babies are so weird.” He said with a smile and a gleam in his eye.

“Should I, like, push him back over?” He asked, resting his hand on the bulging side of the bump as she giggled profusely. “Eddie, no! They’ll move in a minute. Why do you think it’s a boy anyway??” She swatted his hand off her stomach as she took her turn laying on his chest to read the survey board on the tv.

“That kid is too ornery to be a girl, trust me. The grief he’s giving you right now is classic Munson boy behavior, and I’ll go ahead and apologize for how down bad you’re about to be for his brown eyes.” He batted his lashes at her as she turned to look at him in disbelief.

“You’re gonna eat those words, Munson, just you wait.

And when the rainy winter day came, Eddie’s words reigned true.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced. Y/n’s hair stuck to her face as she fought to catch her breath while the nurses prepared the baby to get his umbilical cord cut. “Alright, dad, just make a cut right here,” the doctor instructed as a nurse set their baby boy on his mother’s chest, Y/n’s body wracked with sobs as Eddie watched the scene happen around him and back to the scissors and clamps before him.

“ ‘S not gonna hurt them is it?” He asked quietly. The doctor laughed lightly and shook his head, “No, no, I assure you your wife and son will be just fine.”

‘My wife and son’

Eddie breathed a laugh, the color returning to his face after the last hour of Y/n’s labor had his soul close to leaving his body. He accepted the scissors and made a cautious snip, his eyes jerking over to the dark haired baby on his loves chest, relieved when he saw neither of them batted an eyelash.

The nurses took the baby for his measurements, announcing he was seven pounds and one ounce, nineteen inches long, born at 4:20 in the morning to which Eddie snickered as he held his girl’s hand and stroked her knuckles lovingly.

Eddie brushed the hair back from her forehead as the nurses cleaned the area and swaddled the baby, now clean from the bodily fluids he had spent his time growing in like a butterfly in a chrysalis.

“You did so good, baby,” he pressed a kiss to her hand, his eyes feeling leaky now that he got to really talk to her for the first time since active labor started. “I’m so proud of you. You, like, hulked out there at the end. It was crazy! And seven pounds?? That’s literally a bowling ball, you know?” He rambled in amazement as the nurse handed Y/n a blue bundle.

“Lemme look at that face,” he whispered, craning his head to get a look at the baby he waited to meet for so so long.

And there he was. Full little lips, his tongue poking out between them as he wriggled, his button nose wrinkling as he fussed, his face scrunched in frustration.

“C-Can I hold him? After you, of course, whenever you’re ready—“

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready, here, take him.” She smiled, holding out the bundle, too tired to keep her arms up and eager to see the way he looked holding their baby they feared having. Eddie quickly accepted the baby from her arms, taking care to hold his neck and feeling startled at how light he felt in his arms.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, running his index finger down the center line of his forehead, his eyes opening for the first time to reveal shining dark eyes, almost black.

“What is it? He got six fingers or something??” Y/n asked in a panicked daze. Eddie chuckled without taking his eyes off his son, his eyes prickling with tears.

“Nothing—he, uh, he just—he’s the prettiest person I think I’ve ever seen.. and he has brown eyes, I think.” He said quietly, finally looking up at the mother of his child.

“Lemme see!” She whispered excitedly. Eddie stepped over to the chair next to the bed as the nurses left.

The baby looked rather unimpressed between the two of them, their faces permanently etched in awe as they stared at his open eyes. “He’s looking right through us.” Eddie whispered.

“He can’t even see us, yet.” Y/n giggled, tracing her baby son’s face with her pointer finger, stopping to squish his cheek lightly. “It’s all blurry for him right now.” She mentioned, the baby’s eyes relaxing into the hospital lighting a little more and blinking away discomfort.

“So, what’s his name?” Eddie asked, pushing the front of his little hat off his head to stroke his thick curls that swirled against his scalp. Y/n hummed, sitting in silence until she looked over at their bag, his latest fantasy novel, just visible under a hoodie.

Eddie had been inseparable from the book every night before bed, sometimes reading the extra cool parts to Y/n, who loved to hear the adventures of the band of rogues that called themselves the Realm Riders.

“What about Ryder?” Y/n said.

Eddie’s ears perked at that, “Ryder Wayne?” He asked with a growing smile. Y/n giggled, “What do you think?” She asked.

“I love it! It sounds like he’s a knight or-or-or a cowboy, or something!” Eddie nudged her arm with gentle excitement.

Her cheeks warmed with her smile, “The noblest of his countrymen just like his dadd—“

Eddie cut her off by pushing his lips onto hers, their first kiss shared as parents. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eddie. You’re gonna be such a good dad to him, you know that right?” Y/n whispered, their foreheads pressed together as the baby settled into a slumber. Eddie swallowed hard and nodded his head reverently.

“You’re thoughtful and kind and loving and strong, you are going to set such a good example and-and we’re gonna give him such a happy home to grow up in. And he’s gonna know how much his parents love each other, and him, always, okay? He’ll have everything we didn’t..” Y/n whispered.

Eddie smiled, the tears rolling down his cheeks at the overload of affirmation and praise. “I swear to it..” he mumbled, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips, “ I-I never thought I’d feel this way... I didn’t think it was real.. y’know, feeling like a real family. And now we are. Because of you.” He beamed at her with tears spilling over his eyes. “I hope you know I plan on marrying you the moment I can afford a ring to go on that precious little finger of yours.” He mumbled.

Y/n’s heart leapt, “You mean you already wanna promote me from baby mama?” She sniffled through the joke, his goofy smile stretching across his face.

“Absolutely. The best baby mama I have should share our last name.” Eddie remarked back, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Unless you want us to take your last name! I can do that. I’m cool with not being a Munson anymore, it might be good for me—“

“No, no, no, Eddie I wanna be the Munsons.. We’ll put it on a mailbox or something for the whole world to see, everyone in Hawkins will know we’re your family.” She smiled as his smile returned to his face again.

“My family...” Eddie smiled and shook his head in quiet disbelief at the words coming from his mouth.

When they arrived home, their friends were crammed in the tin can of a trailer home with a blue banner held up by Robin and Uncle Wayne that read ‘Welcome Home, Baby Munson!’

From the outside of the door they could hear the scuffle and bickering of the friends trying to get in place quietly. Eddie held his love’s arm to help her walk, his son in the baby carrier in his other. The two looked to each other and snickered, “Let’s give them a few more seconds, huh?” He asked, his soft stare flitting over her face.

She nodded, turning back to the door, the curtains jerking closed as she did so. “I think they know we’re here.” She whispered, nodding to the window as she eased forward to the wobbly porch steps.

Eddie held his hand up behind her back as she clutched the equally as trusting rail as she climbed. The door opened before she could turn the handle, the crowd shouting, “Surprise!” as they entered their home.

Y/n smiled, looking at Eddie as he greeted his family. Steve wrapped him up in a firm hug, quickly pulling away to kneel and peek at the fussy baby in the carrier. Dustin led the hoard of Hellfire members all chattering and asking wild questions:

“Was there a lot of blood?” “Did you watch?” “Did you cut the cord?” “Did they let you keep any?” “What is the baby?” “What’s its name?” “How do you know they didn’t switch it?” “Did you guys get matching bracelets?” “Does this mean you’re married now?”

Eddie tried to keep up with the questions as they all flew around him, his eyes searching for his partner as they were separated in the chaos. He noticed Robin helping her to the bathroom when he spotted Wayne, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at Eddie to come to him; the same way he’d done the boy’s whole life.

Eddie’s legs began moving before he told Dustin he’d tell him the whole story later. The baby in the carrier grunted, ready to be held or irritated by the noise.

“Why don’t we Munson men take a minute, huh?” Wayne patted his boy’s shoulder fondly, Eddie nodding with quiet eagerness.

Eddie led his uncle to their bedroom, setting the baby carrier on the bed before pushing the visor back to reveal the sweetest set of brown eyes that resembled a baby Wayne once knew long ago.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie started as he unbuckled the small seat belt from his son’s delicate chest, his little hands coming up to rest in front of his face as he pouted. “I’d like you to meet your grandson, Ryder Wayne.” He finished as he adjusted his baby in his arms, the baby fully awake and blinking, his eyes Looking from Eddie to his grandpa.

Eddie finally looked back up at Wayne, who was having trouble keeping his breath steady. His eyes prickled with tears as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat and nodded.

“You just really had to make a grown man cry, didn’t you, Ed?” He asked as a couple tears slipped from the corner of his eye. “C-Can I hold ‘em?” He asked his nephew quietly. Eddie’s eyes lit up immediately as he nodded, handing the bundle over to his uncle. The two men sniffled in silence, their eyes unmoving from the baby between them.

“Y’know, over the years I had my worries; that you’d run off, or end up with the wrong folks, that you’d get discouraged and quit school—or worse… Your little ideas have given my heart quite the jump start since I’ve had you, kid, but this one.. well.. this one might just be the best scare you’ve ever given me.” He chuckled as the tears ran more freely, looking over to his grown boy again to see matching tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

The two laughed and held each other close, admiring the sweet boy between them until Y/n opened the door quietly.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt—“

“Nonsense! Get on in here, darlin’, I’s just meeting my grandson.” Wayne said with pride, beaming down at the boy in his arms. Y/n took her place under Eddie’s arm until the baby scrunched his face up in a cry.

“Aww, there he goes.” Wayne chuckled easily before handing the baby to his mother.

“I bet it’s time for another bottle.” Y/n said in thought then looked at Eddie, who checked his watch before nodding at her.

“Yeah, it’s been two hours, he’s a hungry little dude.”

“I guess it’s time to get out here, huh?” Y/n asked Ryder as if he’d have a response. The three of them reentered the living room, the party noticing almost immediately.

“So it is a boy?! Max was just messing with us?!” Dustin asked as the boys looked amongst each other, Will dragging his palm down his face in annoyed amusement while Max and El snickered quietly.

Y/n and Eddie chuckled, the new father making up a bottle of formula while Y/n took a seat on the couch in between Robin and Steve.

“Ah, that is correct, young Henderson. Hellfire Club now has a rightful heir.” Eddie approached Y/n, who expected him to give her the bottle but instead he held out his arms, making grabby hands at his baby.

Y/n handed him over without hesitation, the baby’s fusses silenced as soon as the bottle was in his mouth. “Ladies and gents, I’m honored to present to you, the first of many Munson babies, Ryder Wayne.”

The crowd went wild as the grumpy little guy scowled in response, giving his best side eye before closing them and trying to fall asleep.

“The first of many?” Y/n scoffed, “Where did that come from.”

“Look at his precious face and tell me you won’t have any more.” He grinned proudly down at his son, not even having to look at his girlfriend to know he was right.

Everyone wanted their picture taken holding the baby, especially the Hellfire Club. “It’s our turn next, Harrington, wrap it up.” Gareth teased, his arms across his chest as he impatiently waited for his turn to hold his best friend’s baby.

“I can’t wait to have a baby,” Dustin mentioned as the club gathered around the couch, Eddie and Steve’s faces snapping to the boy immediately and shouting, “Yes you can!”

The girls wanted pictures with both Eddie and Y/n, and of course Wayne needed a couple with ‘his boys’, calling Y/n back into the frame after she set Ryder gently into his arms.

“Whoa there, Missy, you’re a Munson now, get on in here.” He urged through his drawl. Her cheeks burned as she scampered back up next to Eddie, his arm wrapping around her proudly as they smiled.

“Now let’s get one of the new parents and their baby!” Jonathon suggested, peeking out from behind the camera as Nancy gathered the Polaroids and laid them on the counter to develop properly.

Wayne grinned and clapped Eddie on the shoulder before stepping out of the frame. Eddie’s cheeks were pink from his permanent soft smile, his eyes beaming at the mother of his child as she looked down at Ryder between them.

“That’s perfect! Don’t move.” Jonathon urged before snapping the photo, which would hang on the wall until they had grandchildren to show it to.

Later that evening, when all the friends left with promises of returning soon, Wayne lingered behind, waiting for the perfect time to talk to Eddie alone.

“Alright, gentlemen, as much fun as this is, I have to go lay down.” Y/n yawned, patting Wayne on the shoulder, planting a kiss on Eddie’s head, and bending down to take the baby, but not before Eddie could turn away from her. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked in feigned offense.

“Uh, taking him to bed?” She asked.

“No, no, no, you just gave birth, I’m on baby duty until you’re rested. Go! Shoo! I’ll see you in a few hours, mama.” He urged, using his free hand to swat at her playfully until she was gone from the room.

A lingering smile stayed on his lips as the men chuckled together. “I, uh, been waiting to give this to ‘ya,” Wayne started as he reached in his pocket for his wallet.

Eddie shook his head immediately, “No, Wayne, uh-uh, no way, we aren’t taking your mon—“

Wayne opened his billfold and pulled out a single gold ring, an emerald in the center of the setting. Eddie’s jaw dropped, only remembering that ring from his childhood. “Is that—“

“Grandma Edna’s wedding ring? Yeah. It is.” Wayne chuckled quietly before sighing and handing it to his boy, closing his fingers around it and nodding, more to himself than to Eddie.

Eddie looked at Wayne with wide eyes, a ring in one hand, a baby in the other, his life feeling surreal in this moment. He shook his head at his uncle in disbelief, Wayne nodding back at him, “Yeah, it’s really happening, son.”

Eddie nodded, tears welling up in his eyes for the hundredth time in the last 24 hours.

“I never imagined—not even in my wildest dreams—“ Eddie hiccuped through the brewing tears.

“I know, son, I know.” Wayne said, the grown boy laying his head on his uncle’s shoulder as he’d done many times before, letting a couple tears loose while he inhaled the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil lingering on his work shirt.

“Thank you, Wayne. For everything—Absolutely everything.” The metal head urged into the old man’s shoulder, his baby boy sleeping soundly between them as the only father he’d ever truly known patted his back soothingly.

“And I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat… you’re my boy.” Wayne mentioned through a tight smile, his life feeling surreal, too.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n

[circeyoru]

Can I request soul owner the Reader with yandere Alastor go on a date I can imagine him being exciting and super happy with the reader being calm.

I've been reading anger a lot today so I want to read something funny happy cute anything you know.

By the way I hope you have a nice day 💐

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}

I'm having a great day! Doing work and getting my phone blown up with you guys' notification here. Thank you guys for the support!!! I will repeat this as many times, I'm just that grateful!!!!

Wholesome fluff time!!!

I'll imagine that Reader/you are the one to ask about going on a date because Alastor would be too hesitant to ask, since he doesn't want to mess things up after you declared your love and wanted things to go at your pace.

Surprise, you make an effort to do what Alastor likes. Alastor's the one to do what you like, so you figured, time for a bit of a flop around. You asked around what Alastor likes to do, the hotel members were no help.

Vaggie says Alastor hates TV and a bunch of modern day technology to the point of making a deal. But with you, he watches anime on your laptop while laying side by side. Huh??? Husk and Niffty said Alastor doesn't do sweets. But he baked you a number of desserts and those were the ones he did as trial and error, he ate all the leftovers because you didn't like wasting things. Charlie says Alastor's always smiling and loves the entertainment and misery of demons. But with you, every time you were down or sad, he's doing all he can to cheer you up. Lucifer was even worse, he said Alastor loves to take care of Charlie like a daughter. You paused him and just left. Nope.

You came to the conclusion that Alastor's preferences were non-existent when it came to spending time with you. The thought made you smile and feel bubbly. Now you had to make the date worthwhile.

As much energy and time it took, also to be secretive. You made it all happen. Of course, you had to tell Alastor's shadows to keep quiet about your plans, they agreed with your headpats.

On the day. You requested Alastor's undivided attention and time. He was confused and came to you on the dot, only to regret not appearing more charming when you said it was a date. You had to hold onto him so he doesn't teleport through the shadows to fix up his looks.

"You look just fine!"

"No! It's our first date! I must look perfect! BETTER THAN PERFECT!"

You started with a stroll through a garden, hooking his arm with yours as you walked along the path. Alastor's silence was because he was still shocked and didn't dare to speak thinking he'll say something wrong. So you started small talk.

Then you brought him to Cannibal Town. Setting him down on a table and Rosie distracted him enough for you to slip into the kitchen to cook him his meal. Lucky you practiced and didn't take long cause Alastor was about to search for you in his giant demonic form. You appearing with a trollery had him sit back down and Rosie left with a giggle. Alastor stared at the plate in front of him. You cooked him something? Is he in Heaven?

"Darling, I think Heaven's a bit too red and hot."

"Just eat and tell me how it taste."

Alastor was talking, wrong word, praising your cooking. He even said the two of you could cook sometime back in the hotel kitchen. You agreed to his joy. After that, you brought Alastor to the town square, jazz music played and you offered your hand, telling him to teach you some of his moves. He happily did so and other cannibals joined in on the dance party.

At the end of the day, you brought Alastor to the forest and sang him a song *Everytime We Touch*, using his microphone staff as a mic. He secretly recorded your voice too. You didn't mind since this was both of you's first date.

"So? How was the date? You like it?"

"Darling Love," Alastor suddenly brought you into a swirl and dipped you, "This is the third best day of my afterlife."

"What's the first and second?"

"Second is the day you defended me and confessed your love to me." Alastor straightened you up and brought you close to him, "The first is the day we met."

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

[zeestarfishalien]

Unwanted Farewells

[Day 5 DPxDC Week: Jason Todd // Soulmate AU // Funeral Rites ]

• Anger Management ship (Jasmine Fenton x Jason Todd) No relevant warnings beyond the usual DP stuff

Jazz has always had it the worst. Danny might have been the one to die but Jazz is the one who lost not only her soulmate, but her little brother too. It doesn’t matter that he’s still around, he knows the grief weighs on her sometimes. She overcompensates by being a massive mother hen and general pain in the neck but he tries not to get too upset with her about it.

With Dani with an “i” fresh out of high school and Jazz’s birthday coming up soon, he wants to do something special. He spends a lot of time bribing Ghost Writer in order to research his idea out.

It’s probably the most time and effort he’s put into a project that wasn’t about space.

Proposing the idea to her is the one big thing this all hinges on. He’s not 100% sure she’ll be on board with this but he’d like to try.

And trying is what kicks off the first part of his plan. It’s a little awkward to bring up the fact that he doesn’t have a grave and would like one. It’s almost physically painful to see the grief it brings to Jazz’s eyes. She tries to hide it but Danny has always been able to read her better than he lets on. It’s part of the process though. He needs her to see how this goes and feels. How it’s a celebration of life and honoring those who have passed and not just a somber reminder to the living of what they’ve lost. He needs her to see what it means to him. And what it would mean to her soulmate.

He makes the grave marker of course. They’re not about to buy one when he has the strength and abilities to carve it out himself. He makes sure that it’s vague unless you know him. No names, no identifying markers like age or dates. It’s simple and meaningful for him.

{May he rest here between walks among the stars, our friend and brother beloved}

From there it’s pretty much all fun and games. Literally.

Same brings the games while she has Tucker pack out the food. It’s a combination of some of Grandma Ida’s homemade desserts and various junk foods. Even Tucker brings some cookies his mom helped him figure out how to make.

Jazz is in charge of the drinks while Danny and Dani handled all the decorating. It’s a combination of solidified ectoplasm, his ice, and various flowers they’ve gathered and strung together in a flower chain.

It’s a smashing success and he sees something in Jazz release. Some niggling worry or grief she carried that is no longer there.

Now, he decides, it’s time for part two.

What throws part two for a loop is when Dani with an “i” brings up that she’d like a grave and proper funeral rites as well.

It’s not a setback. Definitely not when he sees how much more relaxed and content Jazz is at Dani with an i’s wake.

It’s only a couple days from her birthday when he brings it up. The funeral practices for soulmates are as varied as they are sacred. He proposes her options via a PowerPoint he put far too many hours into.

By the time he finishes rambling, she’s got this sort of startled look on her face.

He twists his shirt in his hands as he stands awaiting her judgement. The longer she’s silent, the more convinced Danny is that she’ll reject the whole thing and not talk to him for a month.

Okay, maybe a week but still a week is a long time.

Suddenly Jazz is crying and oh ancients he’s really messed up this time. She’s not even mad just straight up upset by his offer.

But then she’s hugging him, telling him she loves him, and thanking him.

It’s not as hard as Danny feared to actually track down the location of a Jason Todd who died before Jazz reached 16 (she never wanted to look him up before, didn’t want to know what she was missing) and the day before her 25th birthday Danny, Dani, and Jazz all pile into her little car to make the drive to Gotham, homemade foods in tow.

Danny and Dani made sure to swipe one of Vlad’s special rich dude credit cards to fund their trip and the stop at multiple flower shops to get enough flowers to make flower chains and crowns for all of them.

It’s closing in on evening, the day of Jazz’s birthday when they finally roll up and upload everything. They didn’t bring any lights, but none of them really need much light to see for eating food and drinking sodas. Jazz brought some jasmine tea and an extra cup to place on Jason’s grave. They make a funky, dark evening of it, but finally Jazz grows more somber and keeps taking long looks at the gravestone so Danny and Dani decide to make themselves scarce.

They’re about halfway across the cemetery when out of the shadows steps the looming menace of Red Hood.

“The fuck are you doing at that grave?”

It’s not his voice or his tone, but the sub vocal ghost speak that makes Danny and Dani freeze up ramrod straight.

That’s a revenant and they’re trespassing on his resting place without permission.

So of course like any sane person, Danny says something stupid. But he just can’t believe out of all the ridiculous coincidences to exist in the world, that Jazz’s soulmate is undead like him seems just too far to believe.

“Jason?”

Almost late despite having the day off work bc I had to go shopping and bc of where I live, shopping is essentially a full day affair. This is shorter than I’d like it but I also kinda enjoy where it ends XD imagine their next moments however you please or feel free to add onto this.

#angermanagement #soulmateau #dpxdc #dcxdp #jazz/jason #dpxdc week 2023

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Re your dream: That smacks of MobBoss!Thor. Your current boyfriend is one of Thor's higher-ups and he brought you along to a dinner meeting and Thor is immediately taken with you. Thor is of course very charming and starts working on how to steel you away from your boyfriend.

Take a Seat

Warnings: allusions to mafia/crime, intimidation, suggestions of verbal and mental abuse, toxicity.

This might just be a drabble, but I'd appreciate a reblog and some feedback! You are loved and appreciated. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

"Those are mostly capos," Travis keeps his voice low as he points to the table nearby, keeping the glass in hand to hide his gesture, "I think…" he cranes around, "I might be the only soldier here…"

"Really?" You raise your brows but quickly resume your neutral preen.

You're intimidated as it is. You don't know much about Travis' business, and this is your first time seeing it from the inside. However, it doesn't seem to be anything more than an overly fancy dinner party.

"Oh, and that's Loki," he darts his eyes sharply to a slender man strutting at the other end of the room. He has a short liquor glass in hand and stops to lean on close to a blond man along the head table, "the boss's brother. The one he's chatting up right now." Travis leans in, "Thor…" he explains, "hon," he puts his hand on yours, "try not to stare. Lot of guys in here don't appreciate it."

"Sorry, I…" your eyes catch the pair of blue irises at the near table. The ones set into the chiseled face of that man proclaimed boss, Thor. Your lips part in surprise before you quickly avert your gaze. "I'm just nervous."

"Yeah, uh, well, try not to look like it," he reproaches. "Maybe…maybe I shoulda come alone."

You try not to frown. He does that. When you go out to dinner, if you don't keep a smile pasted on, suddenly the night is spoiled. Or even at home when you're having a quiet night in, you can ruin the night with one wrong word.

"I'll keep my eyes to myself," you promise, "okay?"

"Right," he nods past you and greets another man as he passes by. "Make sure you do. And if someone says hi, don't be so shy. I don't need you getting on the wrong side of these guys." He grabs his glass and takes a gulp, "this could be my in."

"Got it," you pinch the stem of your champagne flute and draw it closer but don't drink. Better not, sobriety will keep you out of trouble.

💍

Travis ends up at another table, enthralled in conversation with a pair of greasy haired gangsters in patterned velvet jackets. You stare at the table, trying not to attract any unwanted attention. Dinner is over and dessert has mostly gone untouched. You're just waiting for the end.

Thinking of the drive back, you should try to hit the bathroom before that. You peek around cautiously and stand, hugging your clutch to your side as you carefully sidle out from between the table and chair. You keep your head down and make your way to the wall, following it to the short hallway that leads to a set of restrooms.

Inside, you take your time, relieved at the moment of privacy. As you wash your hands, you watch your reflection. You look tired even through your makeup.

You grab your purse and go back out. You hold back a yawn as you get to the end of the hallway and you stop to search the room, making sure Travis is where you left him. You take a step, nearly tripping as a deep voice rumbles from closeby.

You think of ignoring it, assuming they're speaking to someone else, but then you remember what Travis said. You turn and look around.

The blond man, the one with the burly shoulders that threaten the seams of his tailored jacket, grins at you. His fingers are woven together and his elbows rest on the table. He winks at you as you peer around in confusion, expecting someone else to be closeby. It's only you.

"You," he separates his hand and points in your direction, "I do not know you."

You open and close your mouth. You step closer as you swallow and find a smile through your nerves. You grip your purse tight and pronounce your name.

"I'm with Travis. Er, Mallory. My boyfriend. Uh, sir."

His eyes twinkle with amusement, "Thor," he introduces, "sir? Please, none of that is needed. Not for a pretty woman like you."

"S-thank you, Th-Thor," you sound utterly stupid as you try to keep your calm. If Travis saw you talking to this man, you know it would be bad. He wouldn't want you messing up his prospects.

"Sit," his invitation is more a demand.

You can't refuse. What little you know of this business suggests he is even more dangerous than Travis. You go around the table as Thor stands and pulls out the empty chair next to him. You sit and make yourself breathe.

"Boyfriend?" He resumes his seat, angling to face you, "not husband?"

"Not yet," you say.

"And why would he wait?" He wonders as you wilt against his handsome gaze.

"I'm sure he'll propose soon," you shrug, "dinner was great."

"Ah, it was delicious," he sits back, "though my company was not so pleasing." He bends his arm against the table, "not like you."

"I… thank you. That's very, uh, flattering."

"It's the truth. I'm afraid I was probably poor company myself. Being as distracted as I was," his eyes cling to you, "wondering who this beautiful stranger is."

You look away. He's charming, if not a touch cheesy. You don't know how to handle it.

"There you are," Travis saves you from your conundrum. "I was just thinking we should–" he stops and clears his throat, "sir," he stands at the end of the table, "hi, er, I didn't see you there," it's obvious his surprise is fake, "Travis Mallory, I work with Haakonson."

"Ah, yes, he is a reliable capo," Thor shifts and puts his hand on the back of your chair, "I was only just having a discussion with your… girlfriend."

"Oh? That's…great," Travis is less than convincing.

"Yes, I was just agreeing with her that it's really too bad you haven't proposed," Thor asserts and your eyes widen. "A girl like her should have a ring on her finger."

"Yea, sir, I agree, I, um, I was… trying to surprise her–"

"Ah, so you have a ring? Diamond? I think a teardrop becomes this one but she might do well with a princess cut," Thor proclaims as he takes your hand, drawing a wince from you. "She should be adorned in gold and gems."

"Sir, I know, I've been working on it–"

"Ah, ah," Thor keeps his hand on yours, "I don't like excuses. And she shouldn't settle for them."

Thor raises your hand and kisses your knuckles. You can only let him. Your scalp spatters with heat as you nearly combust between the two men.

"She deserves a throne… look at her, a queen."

"Sir, thank you. She is. I take care of her–"

"Do you?" Thor accuses, "how do you take care of her?"

You don't dare tug your hand away despite the urge to do just that. You sit frozen as his hand crushes yours. You slowly turn your head to glance at Travis, his cheek twitching in agitation.

"I…" he swallows and tries to wet his dry mouth. He can't yell this man into submission and he knows it.

"Let me give her the throne she deserves," Thor snickers and leans over. His nose tickles your ear and he lowers his voice to a whisper, "come, kitten, sit in my lap."

He sits back and you gape at him, shocked by his suggestion. No, it's an order. You blink and look at Travis again. Thor hits the table with his large hand, the plates and cutlery clattering.

"You don't need his permission," he pulls on your arm, "you need only my word."

"S-sorry," you slide forward in the seat and stand stiffly.

Thor releases your hand and shoves his chair back, running his large hands over his thighs. You step in front of him and he frames your hips, pulling you down before you can think to refuse. You fall into his lap, bracing his forearm to keep your balance.

"Now that is where a woman like her belongs," Thor leans into you and rests his chin on your shoulder, "with a king, not a peasant."

You look at Travis, horror pumping in your veins, a fear reflected in his drawn face. Thor brushes a hand up your stomach and turns his head to nuzzle your neck. The tickle of his beard makes you moan.

Thor lifts his head at last, his arm hooked around you as he clings to your tightly, "what a wonderful gift you brought me, soldier."

Travis does not move. He just stares, blinking as his fingers twiddle at his side. Your lip trembles. What do you do?

"You are dismissed," Thor enunciates harshly.

Travis bites down, jaw clenching tightly, and he murmurs, "yes, boss."

His sole scuffs as he drags his foot back. You watch him in disbelief. He's just leaving you there.

"You see, kitten," Thor reaches to pet your head, "he is not good enough for you. You deserve more than a coward."

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #drabble #au #mob au #marvel #mcu #avengers

[barbiecrocs]

Why not?

Miguel O'hara

tags! paralysis(miguels venom), no piv, pussy eating, squirting, hinting at food kink, kitchen sex

WC. 1059

Barbie's note... Enjoy y'all.

God, he loves the way your pussy tastes. It has his fangs tingling and his dick creating a tent in his pants. Why didn’t he do this earlier? How didn’t he do this earlier?

 It was only brought to his attention once he overheard your book club while he was making a snack in the kitchen. He didn’t intend to spy at first, but the urge became irresistible when they started to talk about their husbands going down on them. Some of them go as far as to describe the techniques they use— grinding down on his face, rolling their hips, and nudging their clit with the tip of their husbands' noses. Miguel doesn’t even notice how obvious his eavesdropping is until the laughter and chatter from the living room dies down. Now turning into whispers about how much food he’s piling on and stares that he can feel through the back of his head. He looks down at his plate and sees an abundance of varying foods, carrots, celery, a glob of peanut butter, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Before you can say something about it, he finishes making it and takes it upstairs. Only to turn back around and sit on the steps, snooping again, and realizing he didn’t get a spoon for his ice cream.

 The topic slowly deviates from Miguel to you and about why you haven’t shared a story of your own. They let out a sob out of empathy for you when you explain that Miguel hasn’t ever gone down on you or let you ride his face before. And that your sex life had been kinda dry at the moment. They all put in their unwanted two cents before you direct the conversation back to the book.

 After checking the time and realizing that you have to get dinner started, you shoo your friends out. Some of them bring up the previous topic, “Trust me not only does it feel good, but it opens up a whole new world of pleasure in your sex life.” And with that, you shut the door in their face, but out of all the unwanted advice, that one was the only remotely useful one. 

You turn around just to be met with Miguel’s chest as he presses you flat against the door. Your hands press against his chest to steady yourself, breath hitching when he goes straight for your neck, kissing and sucking the sweet spot on it. “Miguel! I have to get dinner started." You quiver, feeling a tingle and heat pool at your entrance. Your eyes begin to flutter as your head knocks back, giving him more access to your neck. “I was thinking that we’d have dessert first.” 

“M-Miguel…” His hands crawl onto your breasts, teasing your nipples until he flips up your shirt and his lips join his hands. Your legs buckle under his touch and he’s picking you up to put you on the kitchen counter. "Miguel— If— If this is about— what my friends— Ugh, shit!” His kisses trail lower with each word that falls out your mouth, now sliding off your shorts, but leaving your panties. A big calloused hand spreads your legs apart, taking one by the knee and placing it on his shoulder. Surprising you with a wet lick to your clothed slit. “God, you taste like heaven. Why didn’t you suggest this is the first place?” He doesn’t wait for a response to his rhetorical question, immediately stuffing his face in your nether region. Your hands move to the head separating your legs, fingers sliding into and tugging his brunette mane, split between wanting him and not wanting him there. He hisses at the pain. “If this is about what my friends said then you don’t have to. It’s not like a need a story to–” He stops you short, biting your inner thigh hard, his fangs sinking into you and relaxing your muscles with his venom. 

 “Miguel!” You start to slur.

 “This is for me as much as it is for you.” And just like that the fingers in his hair relax, relieving his scalp of the stinging he didn’t pay any mind to. “Now let me make you feel good.” You hum in response, not capable of doing much else than that and moaning. He continues to lap at your gushing pussy. Slurping and sucking up the juices and neglecting where you need him most. Your clit ached for attention and you couldn’t do anything about it other than moan or groan. So you groan, “I know, but you taste so good.” Just then an idea popped into his head. He repositions himself, putting the other leg over his shoulder and wrapping his arms around them. He begins to rub his nose against your clit, watching your face carefully for your reaction. You mewl loudly, eyes shut tight, and very little scrunching of your face due to the venom. He takes it as a good sign and advances with his movements. His thumbs move to your pussy lips spreading them wide and scooping out all you have to give him.

 The venom makes you see and feel colors, right now you were feeling red, red hot. Your body was on fire with pleasure and it felt like his hands were everywhere and nowhere on you. Tweaking your nipples, spreading your lips, fingers scissoring inside of you, and then it was white. It all went white and the feeling was back as if all the venom gushed out of you because it did. You were so in your own world, eyes rolling back into your skull, fingers, and toes curling as you screamed Miguel’s name like a prayer, you hadn’t even noticed that you completely soaked his face. Yet he didn’t stop, barely coming up for a breather every minute. He keeps lapping you up, occasionally hitting your overstimulated clit, making you jerk. “Please, Miguel. It’s too much.”  He comes back up, eyes bloodshot and pupils blown out. “What do you mean?” He finally unglued himself from your thighs and you see what a mess you’ve made. He disappears behind you and comes back with a bucket of vanilla ice cream and other various foods, “There’s still so much I wanna try with you.”

#smut #spider man: across the spider verse smut #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara smut

[adriennebarnes]

Hips Don't Lie part 2

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N invites Henry Cavill to a carne asada after a month of dating

Warning: probably some stereotypical Latina/Mexican things because I'm half Mexican, no translated Spanish, unwanted comments from an aunt about weight (for me it’s with my mom) and about Henry, spelling and grammar errors

After a month of dating, Henry and Y/N were at his place, they were cooking tallarines saltado. Everything was going well and Y/N got a text.

“Give me a minute, guapo.” Y/N said, washing her hands to check her phone. It was a text from her mom. “Hey Henry, how do you feel about going to a carne asada? It’s this weekend, I know it’s a little soon to be meeting my parents, but I really don’t want to go alone.”

“Darling, it’s fine, I’ll go with you to the barbecue.” Henry said. He put the cut up steak into a pan to cook it along with the onions and tomatoes. “Why don’t you want to go alone?”

“Because my mom and my aunts are all going to be like ‘y el novio?’ Like I’m 32, not married or engaged, in their eyes…something is wrong. So please, my handsome British boyfriend, come with me to the carne asada.” Y/N practically begged, having her hands together in a praying motion.

“Yes, my tiny dancer, I’ll go to the carne asada.” Henry said, kissing her forehead and she was pouting with her arms crossed.

“I am not tiny, You’re just big.” Y/N said and her eyes widened at the last part of her sentence.

“In more ways than one.” Henry winked and kissed her. “Do we have to bring anything?” Y/N looked at him in a ‘are you kidding me’ kind of way. “Sorry, what are we bringing?”

“That’s better, and that depends. My mom usually makes her agua de Jamaica which is hibiscus water, don’t ask how it got the name, and red rice. Obviously my uncles bring the meat, um, I’m thinking, someone usually brings dessert which is like fruit salad and cookies, uh, carajo, no puedo pensar. Okay, I got it, we can make alfajores and picarones, mainly because I crave it.” Y/N said,

“What about really food? Should we bring macaroni salad?” Henry asked

“Never in my life have I ever seen macaroni salad at these carne asadas (I’m using my own experiences, obviously). We could make pasta though and like that we could eat some before we go and the rest we take it there.” Y/N said.

“Why would we eat before we go to the carne asada if we’re going to eat there?” Henry asked.

“Ay, amorcito, there’s so much You need to learn. Just in case there’s something you don’t like, and they never really start grilling right when you come in, it’s usually an hour after everyone’s there so you won’t be starving.” Y/N said.

“Alright, I’ll make the list so we can go shopping tomorrow. Now, I know this is going to be a stupid question, but what do I wear?” Henry asked.

“It’s not stupid at all. So again, my mom taught to dress presentable for whatever ‘event’ so like dress semi formal but summery.” Y/N said and Henry looked at her confused. “Just wear your khaki pants your navy or light blue button down.” Henry nodded.

It was the night before the carne asada and Y/N and Henry were in Y/N’s kitchen, their dessert is chilling, her dog Concha laying down in her bed (any breed you want), and they’re going over the family tree.

“Yeimy is my favorite cousin, she’s a music producer, love her to death. Then we have Juan Luis, Yeimy’s brother, kinda mujeriego, me entiendes, very fuckboy, but he’s a lawyer so we’re friendly. There’s my Tia chela, but you have to call her Graciela until she says you can call her Chela. Now Chela comments on my weight, a lot more than my mom does pero eso es otra cosa aparte.” Y/N said, showing pictures of each family member to Henry.

“Okay…who is Veronica?” Henry asked.

“She’s my mom’s friend from church, I don’t think she’ll be here though, she’s in Colombia.” Y/N said, looking for her photo to show him.

“And we’re going to your mom’s house for the carne asada?” Henry asked.

“Yes, I got her a house with a nice yard, my dad has the grill with the charcoal y todo. Now if there’s anything special that you want to drink or eat, get it tomorrow morning, we have to be there at 2.” Y/N said, now cleaning up the kitchen. So are you staying the night so you can help me with everything or are you coming here early in the morning?”

“I got all stuff in my car, I’m staying the night. I’ll just bring it in.” Henry said, he opened the door to leave and Concha got up from her bed to leave with Henry. “Nope, not you, just me.”

The day of the carne asada, Henry was in the driving with Y/N carrying the alfajores and picarones, the pasta in the backseat with Concha chilling so she could see her cousins. Y/N was wearing a sundress with wedge sandals.

“Okay, when you go in your obviously say hello to everyone, depending on whether the women of my family lean in, it’s a hug and a kiss on the cheek. It’s not a real kiss, it’s more of a cheek touch and the kiss sound, and with the men, again, obviously a handshake.” Y/N reminded him.

“Darling, I know everything, please relax.” Henry said.

“I cant relax, they never met any of my partners before.” Y/N said.

“Well i feel very special now.” Henry said.

“You should.” Y/N said.

Henry parked on the street, they go out of the car, Henry helping Y/N with the food as she put Concha on a leash so they could go to the house.

“Mami, ya llegamos!” Y/N yelled as she opened the gate to enter the yard.

“Ay Y/N, mi niña, cómo estás, amor? Y trajiste a supermán! Sabía que tenías amigos famosos pero nunca pensé de esta altura.” Y/N’s mom, Carolina, said.

“Ah mami, él se llama Henry, es mi novio, pero habla inglés, por favor.” Y/N told her mom.

“Oh my god, Henry, it’s so good to meet you. Finally my daughter has a boyfriend!” Carolina said and Y/N looked away to roll her eyes (because who the hell rolls their eyes in front of the their mothers, right?) “Princesa, has subido de peso? Te está saliendo un poquito la panza, no? Bueno, deja toda la comida en las mesa que no falta poco para llegar lo demás gente.” Carolina said and walked away to get paper plates and plastic utensils for everyone.

“What did she tell you?” Henry asked,

“Nothing it doesn’t matter, just put the food on the table, okay? Come on, Concha, let’s take you out your harness.” Y/N said and placed the food on the table to let her dog loose and Concha started running on the grass with Carolina’s cavalier King Charles spaniel, Honey. A few minutes, the cousins came, there was Yeimy, Juan Luis, Fabian (Peluche) and his wife Cecilia (Chiquis), Irma and her husband Erick, María José and her husband Diego, Alfonso (Poncho), and Maite.

“Prima, que bueno verte! Ooh, look at you, love the dress, you look so good.” Irma said, letting her Maltese, Cinnamon, off leash, Cinnamon ran to Concha.

“My mom didn’t think so, que bueno verte.” Y/N said, hugging her and kissing her cheek.

“Ay, no la escuchas, you look Great.” Yeimy said, placing what she brought on the table as well.

“Quien es el güerito?” Peluche asked, letting his german shepherd, Roscoe, off his leash

“Ay Peluche, mira quien habla de güerito. Anyway, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Henry.” Y/N introduced Henry.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” As Y/N told him, Henry greeted the girl cousins with a hug and let them kiss his cheek while shaking hands with the boy cousins.

“You landed Superman? The Witcher? How did you do that?” Maite asked. Y/N was going to answer but the tias and tíos came in as well.

“Hola hola! Carolina, ya llegamos! A ver, gordita, arrímate otra mesa, si?” Tía Chela told Y/N and Y/N did as she was told, she pulled another table to they could also place the food. Henry was saying hello to everyone. “Y mija, segura que es fiel? Como que es muy guapo, ha trabajado con mujeres como tú amiga Eiza, con la mujer maravilla, no sé, me parece raro que esté contigo.”

“Ay mamá, deja de escupir tu veneno a ella, ve con mi papá que está juntado al heladera para las bebidas.” María José said and Chela left reluctantly.

“Thanks, Majo.” Y/N said,

“I grew up with her criticizing me, can’t have her do the same to you. Look at us, we’re in our 30s and we still care about what our mothers say.” Majo said,

“Eso nunca va a cambiar.” Y/N said and she walked back to Henry where he was listening to her Tío Juancho (Juan Camilo) telling a story about his camping trip.

“Hey, pececita, I was just telling your boyfriend about the time I went camping,” Juancho said, hugging and kissing Y/N.

“So glad you’re back, love.” Henry said, wrapping his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.

“Oye Henry’s ven conmigo un momento, come with me.” Y/N’s dad, Carlos, told Henry, tapping his shoulder.

“Papi, que vas a hacer?” Y/N asked.

“Nada mija, es como male bonding, help me grill, Superman.” Carlos said.

“Papi!” Y/N whined.

“Ve con tus primos, princesa.” Carlos said.

“It’s alright, maybe it’s a good thing.” Henry said, kissing Y/N to ease her worries. Henry went with Carlos to the grilled, grabbing the tray of seasoned meats to cook.

“So, Superman, how long have you been dating my daughter?” Carlos asked, sipping a bit of modelo beer.

“Not long, a month.” Henry answered.

“You think of dating her for longer?” Carlos asked.

“Of course, sir.” Henry said,

“Ah, escucha eso, ‘sir’, mira que respetuoso me salió. Listen, Y/N is a good girl, she worked hard in her music, bought this house for me y mi mujer, and if you break her heart or hurt her in anyway, I know some people.” Carlos threatened and Henry got paler.

Carlos laughed. “Ah, te estoy vacilando, it was a joke, you seem like a good person, you know how to grill?” Henry let out a breath of relief.

“Yeah, yes, I know how to grill.” Henry said.

“Good, pass me the orange container, it has the ribs.” Carlos said. Henry did what he was told and gave Y/N a thumbs up. Y/N gave him one back.

“You think your güero can eat what we brought?” Diego asked.

“Let’s hope so, as long as he doesn’t add salsa, it should be fine.” Y/N said. She looked over to where Henry was grilling with her dad, they’re gonna last, maybe not forever, but they would totally last.

Everyone was eating.

“Mija, te salió muy bien la pasta.” Carolina said.

“Gracias, me ayudó Henry también.” Y/N said, making sure she knew.

“Who knew you could cook, Henry, and with seasoning.” Carolina said, sitting down to eat. Henry looked at Y/N and she put her hands up in surrender. Everyone was serving themselves until.

“Haz platos para sus hombres también, que no se te olvide.” Chelis announced.

“Ay mamá, mas anticuada no puedes ser, ellos tienen manos, que se sirven solos.” Majo told her mom.

“Whats happening?” Henry whispered in Y/N’s ear.

“Do you see why I couldn’t come here alone? Just don’t serve yourself any salsa, the sauces are usually very spicy, the rest should be good to eat. There’s tacos dorados that have potatoes, some are chicken, others are beans, it’s a surprise. Take one of each, I’m sure you’ll like it.” Y/N whispered back to him. Everyone serves their own plate porque así debe ser, and they were all chatting, mainly trying to get to know Henry.

“So Henry, You’re a good looking man, why are you here with Y/N? I’m sure you can do a lot better.” Chela said and Majo states at her mom and mouthed her apology to Y/N.

“Has she been telling you this the entire time? Asking why I’m here with you?” Henry asked Y/N and Y/N just nodded. Henry stood up from his seat. “Listen, Graciela, I fell for Y/N the moment I saw her, I don’t know what you have been telling her since we got here but I have had enough. She didn’t want to come here alone and now I know why. If she shows up alone, you’ll ask why she doesn’t have a boyfriend, she shows up with me, you ask her why I’m here with her, that’s enough.” Henry said, Y/N pulled his arm to sit him back down.

“Perdón, Y/N, que Pena contigo.” Chela said and Y/N just nodded, it was nice to have someone other than her cousins defend her. “I’m sorry to you too, Henry.” Henry nodded his head and everyone continued eating. By the time they were finished, they went their “separate ways”.

In the carne asada, there were 3 sections, where the cousins were talking about their memories, what they’ve been up to. The aunts and her mom were talking about neighborhood gossip and about their kids. And of course the uncles and her dad drinking and talking about whatever.

“How did you and Henry meet?” Maite asked again.

“Well my coworker Eiza wanted to set me up with her, saying she was going to be at the after party. I didn’t want to be set up but when I went to the after party, I saw this beautiful woman dancing like she was the only one in the room, she captured everyone’s attention, including mine. Eiza noticed I was staring at the dancer and it turned out to be Y/N so Eiza called her over and there you have it.” Henry told them.

“Mira eso, prima, lo dejaste embobado desde el primer momento.” Ponchó said, petting Concha that went up to him.

“Así es, I thank our parents for playing Shakira when we were growing up.” Y/N said, raising her beer bottle to toast.

“Speaking of Shakira, how did you dance when he spotted you?” Chiquis asked, connecting her phone to the Bluetooth speaker that Peluche carried. It started playing the song ‘hips don’t lie’ and everyone was cheering ‘oh’.

“Alright, alright, I’ll show y’all.” Y/N said, getting up from her chair, handing Henry her beer. “It was something like this.”

Everyone was cheering, Henry was whistling, they were just having a good time.

“Pero ya, i guess that’s how Henry fell for me.” Y/N said, sitting on Henry’s lap now, taking her beer form his hand.

“You have no idea, sweetheart.” Henry kissed her.

“Mira Que lindo, pero no sé comen delante de los pobres.” Juan Luis said, sipping his beer.

“No que tienes novia, hermano?” Yeimy asked.

“Pero no está aquí, boba.” Juan Luis said.

“Wait Henry, why did you really like my dancing?” Y/N asked.

“You want the really answer or the savory answer?” Henry asked and Y/N hit his chest playfully. “Alright, alright, you were having fun, I wanted to be with someone I could have fun with. That, and the way you moved your hips gave me an idea of how you would be in other activities.” Henry smirked and Y/N laughed.

“Ay, you’re so dirty.” Y/N said, placing her head in the crook of his neck. “How you like my family?”

“I think I could come over more often, if you invite me, of course.” Henry said.

“Of course.” Y/N repeated and they kissed, his hands on her waist.

Taglist: @f10werfae @warriormirkwood @marieksg

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill

[all4aoki]

  ⊹ 𝓢END 𝓐 𝓢IGNAL ⠀Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ִ

you hated change, but maybe it was necessary for your happiness . . . enha x f!reader (pjs focused), poly!enha, enha8thmember

wc . . . 13.1k , warnings! my poor attempts of writing angst, cheating / talks of cheating, mentions of kidnapping & death, rushed writing, me guessing stuff about being an idol, not proofread

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©all4aoki, 2024

Something was wrong. Not the kind of wrong that settled heavily in your gut and told you that you needed to remove yourself from the situation, but the kind that started as a small voice in your brain and morphed into something you thought about constantly. Which was strange to you. Promotions for Border: Day One were finally coming to an end and the preparations for your group’s next mini album had already begun, so while the stress of your job hadn’t fully gone away, you didn’t think it was the cause of your intuition going haywire

That feeling would only rear its ugly head where it was unwanted when you would watch them interact. Normally, when the male members of Enhypen spent time together, love was the only emotion you could sense. Fondness. Joy. Whatever you wanted to call it, it didn’t make you feel uneasy. But recently, when you saw Sunghoon and Jay together, a part of your mind related them to a ticking time bomb. The reason was unclear, but the way their eyes shined with a kind of passive aggressiveness when the other wasn’t looking and the fact that they had been only communicating with each other in short sentences since a week ago screamed unhealthy to you. After all, you had never seen them engage in what you assumed to be a fight. And since you were such a good girlfriend, you were going to stay out of it until Sunghoon said something to you.

Besides, resolving tensions was Jungwon’s job.

“I think you’ve developed a staring habit,” Sunoo said from beside you on the couch. You blinked away from the video game the eldest four of the group were playing on the TV.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What’d you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘What do you mean’?” He continued eating the ice cream that had somehow found its way into your fridge one day. “I swear every time I look at you now you’re spacing out.”

Well, to be fair, you were trying to put the pieces of some kind of puzzle together. “I was just thinking–” you hesitated, but quickly concluded that if anyone would shut down your worries speedily, it would be Sunoo. You lowered your voice to a whisper, “Do you think Hoon and Jay-oppa are mad at each other?”

The two boys in question were sitting on the floor, a large amount of distance and Heeseung between them. 

Sunoo didn’t say anything.

“Mmm… you know something, don’t you?” you giggled as he shrugged and took another bite from his dessert. “Tell meee,” you whined, throwing yourself onto Sunoo’s lap only for him to (somewhat) gently push you off and onto the floor. 

The thud of your landing made seven other heads snap in your direction. 

“Sunoo-ah did you just push my girlfriend off the couch?” Sunghoon asked, getting up quickly and taking the short five steps to your spot on the floor. You sat up easily and rubbed the back of your head to make sure nothing hurt.

The rest of your members were unsurprised when Sunghoon and you announced your relationship. Maybe you two hadn’t done the best job of hiding it, but you still thought that with the debut, they wouldn’t have noticed anything. Turns out the way Sunghoon looked at you, as if you hung the moon and stars, and how you had barely let him out of your grasp were clear indicators of your relationship. So after a few weeks of being together, and when you were sure you were never getting away from the honeymoon phase, the two of you had sat the rest of the members down only to be met with: “Oh we already knew.”

Sunghoon kneeled down next to you, one of his hands coming up to meet yours on the back of your head and the other wrapping around your waist. His fingers rubbed against the silky strands of your hair as he felt for any kind of forming bump.

“He didn’t push me that hard,” you reassured. “I’m fine. Promise.”

You tried to disregard the concerned looks and Heeseung’s request for he himself to look at your head. In an attempt to distract yourself, you took Sunghoon’s hand from the back of your hand and tenderly placed a kiss on his palm, then on the corner of his mouth after shifting onto your knees.

“M’ not a baby,” you said, ruffling his hair before sliding over to the base of the couch. Your feet crossed under you as you settled between Jay and Sunoo, who was still unphased on the sofa. 

Riki scoffed from his spot on the furniture, in the far right corner, “Get a room!” 

Sunghoon responded with a roll of his eyes. 

He followed you to your new position on the floor, pushing at your legs so he could lay on his back between them. You complied, dropping them straight and letting him rest his head back on your stomach. Sunghoon at some point had gotten his controller back as well, and for a few minutes, there was silence apart from the shooting and violence of the video game.

The game was quick to become boring and you reached behind you, hand blindly searching for your phone. Thankfully, Sunoo placed the device right in your grip before you would’ve had to ask Sunghoon to sit up for you to look. 

“Thanks, Sun,” you whispered to him and he smiled softly at you. When you turned your eyes away from him, glancing to your right, there was Jay. His jaw was set in a form that looked too tense to be comfortable and his knuckles white from holding onto the controller with a hand that was probably too tight. 

Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

You felt something shift against your stomach and you looked down to realize that Sunghoon had been looking up at you. He had been watching you study one of his best friends who was sitting a little too close to you for him to not feel a bit antsy. A small grumble left him with a choice of words you couldn’t comprehend and then Sunghoon was forcing one of your hands into his luxurious-feeling locks. Out of instinct, you ran your fingernails along his scalp in an attempt to calm him down. 

You had kept your interference between the male members and their conflicts to a minimum, in firm belief that they were mature enough to sort out their differences, but there was a part of you that kept tempting you to do something this time. 

Rarely did they need help, and you figured that they wouldn’t ask for it unless it was absolutely necessary. In fact, they honestly might not ask for help at all, pride and ego being traits that were still overwhelmingly strong in their personalities. And while you didn’t want them to be angry at you for trying to extend an assisting hand, you didn’t want the people you loved fighting each other either. So, maybe you didn’t have to do anything. Asking wouldn’t hurt. That way, you would at least be aware of whatever was going on between the two boys. Then you would be able to decide what to do. 

Nodding a bit to yourself, you twisted your head to be directed towards the elder male on your right. “After this round can you help me make some food?”

Jay’s eyes snapped over to you, and you were surprised at the sharpness they held. Was he angry at you too? Your confidence in your plan faltered at his reaction to your request. Subconsciously, you shrunk away from him, your eyes suddenly unable to meet his for more than a few seconds. 

“Sorry, I was just hungry.”

Jay blinked slowly and tilted his head to the side as he went back to the game, “Of course, we can make something. Don’t apologize if you’re hungry.” Somehow that made you feel worse. 

Sunghoon moved against your belly again, “Let me make something for you.” Normally, you would’ve gladly accepted the offer, but you felt as if you needed to talk to Jay. It was weird, you’d never played the mediator before. Usually, you would stand off to the side and watch everything unfold, only interjecting when necessary, but maybe it was time that you began trying to help your loved ones in more ways than one. 

You smiled down at Sunghoon, his head pressing into the soft skin of your stomach as he craned his head back at you. “Thank you, Hoon, but I want an edible meal.”

“Yah, I can cook!” he pouted and you cooed at the cute expression. Your thumbs ran over the smooth expanse of his cheeks and he leaned into your touch.

Prickles of heat on the right side of your body began to rise and at the feeling, you glanced over your shoulder to find Jay staring at the two of you. 

“Jay-oppa can make me something, Hoon.”

“Yeah, Hoon, let Jay-oppa make YN-ie something.” You didn’t like how he emphasized the two boys’ names. Especially with the way Sunghoon sharply tilted his head towards his elder. If you could’ve seen his eyes, you figured they would be burning with some kind of anger considering the way his muscles tensed.

For a moment, the only sounds that met your ears were the quiet conversation the other members were having, the TV in the background, and the video Sunoo was watching as he undoubtedly eavesdropped on the three of you.

“Mmm, okay,” Sunghoon sighed as he turned away from Jay, facing the television and placing his elbows on the outside of your legs. Harshly, he pulled your limbs closer to his sides with his arms and you almost yelped at the way your legs slid on the ground. 

His thumbs rattled the buttons and joysticks with an alarming speed, “As long as I get to feed you when he’s done cooking, princess.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion and maybe a hint of disgust at his words. Feed you? What was he saying? Sunghoon was well aware of your love for your independence, and while you’d slowly been allowing him to take care of you in ways that you previously hadn’t wanted, he should’ve known that you could do basic human functions. 

“What’re you…” you softly muttered to yourself, but ultimately gave up on your point. You cleared your throat quickly, shifting your attention back to Jay. “Do we still have stuff for bibimbap?”

“I don’t want bibimbap!” Jake cried from the other side of the room.

You laughed, “Then you don’t have to have any!”

“Yeah, I’m just making food for YN-ie and me to eat,” Jay added. 

“And me,” Sunghoon said. You mentally cursed him. Of course, you loved the boy more than anything else in the world, but there shouldn’t have been a reason as to why he wasn’t letting you spend one-on-one time with another member. Especially not Jay. 

The elder had been there for you as soon as Part 2 of I-Land began, almost acting as some sort of caregiver. Brother definitely wasn’t the right word, he was always too nice and a tad bit too nervous to engage in any sort of sibling-like banter. Friend for sure. He was always the one checking up on you after those first weeks, making sure you were tending to your needs and doing it for you if you admitted you hadn’t.

If Sunghoon should’ve had the most trust in any of the members for your well-being, it should’ve been Jay. But now he was engaging himself in every instance of alone time you had with Jay.

Your fingers stroked his face again, relishing in the warmth that radiated from his body, “Didn’t you just eat?”

He chuckled, “I’m always hungry.”

“Don’t they need you here to play the game?”

“I’m sure they’ll manage.” So he wasn’t going to relent this time. “It’s starting to sound like you don’t want to spend time with me!” Sunghoon teased playfully. You did your best to act like he hadn’t caught your plan of action to solve this cold war-esque fight.

Suddenly, your face felt warm. “Hoon, that’s not true. I don’t want you to overeat–”

“Wow,” Sunoo said from above you. 

You glared at him from over your shoulder, “Hush.” The boy simply shrugged. “You know what, I actually can’t wait.” As gently and lovingly as you could manage, you lifted Sunghoon’s upper body off of you and laid him back on the ground as you stood up. 

You offered a hand to Jay. 

His dark eyes flickered between your outstretched palm and your boyfriend that was spread out on the tile, Sunghoon’s own eyes studying you as if you were some sort of goddess. It looked like he was thinking about something, but before you could try to deduce what, Jay’s rough palm slid into your hand as he got up. 

Even when you tried to tug away, his fingers held your smaller ones tight.

“I was asking for your controller,” you muttered, taking the item from his other hand and tossing it to Sunoo. “Here, Sun, you play.”

Sunoo whined a bit, but made room in his hands for the device, balancing what little remained of his ice cream against the object. Sunghoon nudged your ankle with his hand and you instantly found him.

A soft smile was swift to grace your lips and his small grin matched yours.

“I love you,” you said and Jay moved behind you, pulling you towards the kitchen. A chorus of “I love you too” followed, Sunghoon yelling how your words were meant for him being the last thing you heard before you were left in mediocre silence with the older male in the kitchen.

For a while, nothing was said. Your throat felt clogged every time you thought you were finally going to say something. It was almost embarrassing how you couldn’t find the comfort that was usually there when you spoke to Jay. It had been routine for everything to be so easy between the two of you and you weren’t sure when that’d changed.

Silently, you slid into one of the chairs at the island that Jay was now using to prep your requested dish.

“Do you want to help?” he asked, beginning to prepare the rice. You shrugged and pulled the cutting board that he’d gotten out to your side of the island. 

“If you need it so bad, sure.” He glanced at you from over his shoulder. Snarkily, you smiled at him. And as he got the package of shredded carrots out of the fridge, you began cutting up the cucumber.

Jay furrowed his eyebrows and leaned on the counter, “I’m not sure if I like that cutting technique you’re using.”

“I thought you wanted me to help,” you said, popping one of the slices into your mouth and chewing.

Jay slipped the cutting board away from you as quickly as you had taken it, “Sorry Kendall Jenner, but I don’t want you losing a finger.” You pouted at his words, face scrunching up as he voiced his playful doubt. 

“Hey…” you whined as he gently took hold of the wrist of the hand that was holding the knife, taking the tool from you. “I’m never gonna get better at cooking if you don’t let me try!”

He chuckled at your reaction, chopping up the rest of the vegetable and handing you a few pieces as he did so. You ate them, but not without frowning at him as he gave you each one. 

“Don’t need you hurting yourself though,” he explained. “And when I teach you to cook we would be making a nice meal. Something they would serve at an expensive restaurant.” 

The thought of him instructing you, getting closer than he normally would, whispering to you as you both shared laughter made your face flush. The alarming sensation of butterflies in your gut suddenly rushed over you. It was a feeling that you only got with Sunghoon. A feeling that you were only supposed to get with Sunghoon. You brushed it off. You were thinking about Sunghoon, that was probably why you suddenly felt that good kind of nervousness. The one that was one of the many reasons that made you understand why being in love was so wonderful. Something that made life so enjoyable. 

You did your best to smile, pushing down whatever had found its way into your gut. 

“I don’t think I have the patience to work on something for that long.”

“Well, you do it every day. As your job, so the least you could do is spend some time with me.” One more cucumber. You took it halfheartedly. 

“Yeah… I’m sorry I haven’t been hanging out with you guys as often as I used to but I’ve been trying to–”

“Be with Sunghoon,” Jay finished for you. As a response, you nodded. The timer for the rice went off, and Jay slowly spun around to get the food. The smell of comfort filled the space, and you sunk a bit into the hardness of your seat. “I just can’t believe that he thinks it’s okay for you to be with him 24/7 because you’re…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

“Dating?”

“Yeah,” Jay agreed right away. You watched as he retrieved two bowls from one of the cupboards and began assembling the bibimbap for the two of you. After those words, it was easy to piece together that he was angry at Sunghoon because you’d been spending all of your free time with him. And honestly, that made you angry.

Of course you were going to spend time with your boyfriend. While you still wanted to keep your friendships with the rest of the members strong, you were going to prioritize the boy you were in love with because, well, you were in love with him. 

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “Is that why you’ve been so passive-aggressive with him lately?” Jay said nothing as he moved to the end of the table to retrieve two pairs of chopsticks. 

“Don’t worry about whatever small fight we’re having,” Jay said, giving you a close-lipped smile as he handed you the bowl of food that you’d been supposedly craving. “We’ll get past it soon. We’re just like brothers… and it’s a small misunderstanding.”

Gently, you blew on the food before you brought a mouthful to your lips, humming as you chewed. He was probably right. The boys had had small arguments and miscommunications before, and it never took them extremely long before they made up. They loved each other too much to fight for that long. And they probably already had separation anxiety from each other, like you did. You always felt guilty whenever you were mad at one of the other members. At first, anger would drive your actions and thoughts, but the culpability would never be far behind, and you were never able to hold a grudge or stay in a fight for more than two or three days.

Maybe you forgave people too easily, or maybe you just had the blessing of empathy.

“Well,” you started, stirring your food around with the metal chopsticks. “If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.” Jay grinned at you, his mouth full of the hot bibimbap. 

“Just don’t forget about the rest of us, okay?” He reached over and instinctively, you leaned back, dodging his touch. “Relax, you have sauce on your mouth,” he laughed and you tried to do the same as he wiped the corner of your lips with his thumb. Something in your chest sped up. 

Your shocked expression must’ve been extremely amusing to the older male because as he slipped the thumb with the gochujang sauce into his mouth, he couldn’t help but laugh again.

You shouldn’t have listened to Jay.

While he almost always knew what he was talking about, somehow having just a bit more wisdom than the rest of you and not hesitating to use it, apparently, he had no idea that this whole scenario was worse for Sunghoon. You had left the subject of his growing tensions with Jay to rest, figuring that you were doing the right thing by letting them fix things on their own. Especially after your interaction with Jay in the kitchen. 

You had slowly begun returning to your old ways of spreading your time out equally with all of the members. Eating breakfast with all of them instead of hole-ing yourself up in your room with Sunghoon and going out with the members one-on-one. Not to say you were ignoring them in the first place, you still had been with them for the majority of your days, but having the opportunity to connect with them on a personal level again was making a part of you feel whole again. It was weird to think about. Your heart was already so full and content when you were with Sunghoon, and you knew that being with him was more than enough for your happiness. But that happiness increased tenfold with the rediscovered relationships of you and your other members.

You hadn’t even noticed that you’d somewhat been isolating yourself with Sunghoon.

But apparently, this sudden change in your everyday routine was enough to send him over the edge. 

The two of you had yet to sleep in separate beds since you got together, and it had become a nightly ritual for the two of you to get ready for bed together. It was an intimate way to end the day and being with him calmed all of the worries and stresses that you’d dealt with for all of the hours that you’d been awake. Laughing with him was so easy and it was adorable the way he’d sit on the closed toilet while waiting for you to finish your skincare. 

And as you both entered the bathroom, you found yourself repeating that same phrase that had become your mantra for the past week: something was wrong. 

He was quiet as you slipped on your headband and he stayed that way as you brushed your teeth, waiting for you to spit in the sink so he would have the space to do so as well. You studied him as you stood straight, left hand holding your hair back so you wouldn’t get any toothpaste in it. Sunghoon’s face was devoid of any emotion. Blank. But his eyes held a kind of annoyance that you’d rarely noticed before. 

His movements were sharp with agitation as he turned the water on to wash the brushes, and you didn’t miss how he bit the inside of his cheek. You gaped for words. The last thing you wanted to do was make him even angrier, and considering you had yet to see Sunghoon this angry without him even saying anything, you weren’t quite sure how to comfort him. You weren’t that great at comforting people in the first place. Once again, you never really knew what to say, but that was what worked so well with you and Sunghoon. He never knew what to say either. You would hold each other and only share words to explain after your severe emotions had passed like the worst of a storm. 

This didn’t feel like that. It was almost as if he was waiting for you to say something, to provoke him. He’d been bottling up his frustration with the rest of your members for so long that he was ready to explode. And at that moment, you knew he wanted to explode at you.

“What’s wrong?” you finally asked, voice meek. No eye contact was made as Sunghoon sighed deeply, not even bothering to lift his head in your direction. 

“Nothing.”

You wanted to groan, to roll your eyes at his stubbornness, but you reminded yourself to have patience or nothing good would come from this conversation. “That’s not true, Hoon… I love you and if something’s bothering you–”

“Do you?” You looked at the back of his head, face scrunching a bit in confusion. Before you could say anything he continued, “Still love me?”

“What?!” you half laughed, which you immediately regretted. “What is this nonsense? Why would I not love you, Hoon.”

His hands on the sink shook a bit and he closed his fingers around the edge to stop the jittering. “Why have you been– have been avoiding me all week?” 

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you instantly denied. “We’ve been doing everything we normally do–”

“No–” he cut himself off, clearing something in his throat and for a split second it almost sounded like he was choking down a sob. “We haven’t had a meal with just each other once. I don’t think we’ve had a conversation for this long since Sunday and do you remember that coffee date we were supposed to go on yesterday?”

Your heart dropped and the tears came almost instantaneously.

How could you have forgotten that? 

“That’s what I thought,” Sunghoon laughed, sounding watery as he finally pushed himself away from the sink to face you. Your stomach was made of wet sand and you couldn’t bear to look at him. “And you skipped it–” he was blinking harshly now, one of his index fingers pointing at you. “To watch a movie with Jay.”

You were crying now, tears making little streams down your face and you reached for your boyfriend. He pushed your hands away quickly.

“Hoon at least let me apologize!”

“No! You don’t even deserve to be the one crying right now!” He was shouting now and the loud sounds made you shrink back from him. He didn’t even acknowledge it. “I’m the one that deserves to be upset! The guy that has a crush on my girlfriend convinced her that she was neglecting everyone else when she was just neglecting me!”

You shouldn’t have listened to Jay. He had lied to you.

“Sunghoon I didn’t know, please–” You tried to take hold of his face again but he caught your hands, refusing your touch again. “Jay doesn’t like me! And even if he did, I love you. Not him–”

“It doesn’t matter!” Your wrists shook with his movements. “It’s too late. I was stupid to think that I would get to have you to myself when you act like that all the time.”

“Act like what?” you spat at him. Your faces were inches apart now and you could see that a few trails of water had slipped from Sunghoon’s own beautiful eyes too. The urge to wipe them away and kiss his face almost overpowered your growing exasperation. 

“Like you’re their girlfriend too! Like you would choose them over me!–”

“Sunghoon stop it!” 

You tugged your hands away from him, fed up with how he wasn’t actually listening to what you had to say. An uncomfortable silence found its way into the bathroom like a ghost. Only then did you realize how quiet the rest of the dorm was too. Which meant that everyone had probably heard you and Sunghoon fighting. Great.

He huffed, irritation clear even in the small action.

“Have some respect.”

His shoulder hit yours as he pushed past you to the bathroom exit, swinging the door open without a second glance back. You could only listen as his footsteps made their way down the hallway and a door slammed loudly after they’d slowed to a stop. 

You needed to get out.

In a much quieter fashion than Sunghoon, you slipped out of the bathroom and made a beeline for the exit. And to your confirmation, Heeseung, Jay, and Jake were sitting in the living room, not muttering a single word as you stormed past the room to the door. You didn’t even feel their eyes on you as you tossed on a random pair of slippers and tugged on a coat that probably wasn’t even yours. 

“YN-ah, wait!–” one of them finally called, although you weren’t sure which one it was since you were outside in the cold before they could say anything else.

Something inside of you must’ve disconnected as you walked down the driveway and along the street, not sure where you were going, but it felt so good to be by yourself for once that you didn’t really care. But as you left the neighborhood and entered the portion of Seoul that was maybe a few miles away from the dorm, you were back to thinking.

And the question that stood out among the rest was: why was your best never enough? Why didn’t people understand that you were trying?

Then the sobbing started. Your hands gingerly found their way to your elbows as you hugged yourself to try and find some comfort in the cold weather. Part of your brain tried to alert you that you were an idol out in public with no bodyguards, crying and out after 9 p.m. on a Saturday, but your heart and eyes didn’t listen. Your steps had decreased in speed and you were now shuffling along the sidewalk.

Exhaustion wasn’t far behind you. The strength of which you’d been pouring your feelings out had taken a toll on you, and as you hiccuped for the final time, a headache settled in. And after that, reality followed. 

Everyone was probably worried about where you had run off to. Considering you didn’t have a phone, they had no way of reaching you until you decided you wanted to go back to the dorm. Which, honestly, you didn’t have a problem with. While being comforted was always welcome and a majority of the time necessary to truly calm you down, you realized that this moment to yourself was another thing that’d been missing from your life for weeks. Your brain finally had a moment of silence for itself, and as the late January wind blew across your maskless face, the coolness was refreshing. 

Alone time had always been important for you. For your social battery to recover, for you to feel like yourself, and for you to not lose your wits. But in this lifestyle you’d chosen, it was rare for you to be left by yourself. Your members often understood that you needed a second to breathe to function properly, but for the past week, you’d been so busy trying to give your attention back to them that you’d been ignoring your own needs.

If only you’d recognized that, maybe you wouldn’t have forgotten about your date with Sunghoon. Or you could’ve realized how everyone else was feeling. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a metal bench, devoid of any people. Your feet were tired as you brought yourself over to the seat and plopped down, muscles relaxing instantly at the chance for rest. The fresh air was doing wonders for you too. Focus was seeping back into your head and with each inhale and exhale, your headache began to dissipate. Gently, you closed your eyes, not even bothering to worry about if anyone saw you. A freshly debuted idol who already had a decent amount of fame, with dried tears on her cheeks sitting in the middle of a random strip of stores.

Naturally, after you’d taken yet another moment to cool off and regather your emotions, the first thing you thought about was Sunghoon. 

Making up with him was the first thing you needed to do when you got back. Apologize for the mistake you’d made and hope that he would forgive you before you both went to bed angry at each other, which was something your mother had warned you to never do in a relationship. You knew that he was an understanding person who was truly sensitive deep down. Especially when it came to people he loved. Sunghoon’s first impulse was to protect. And that applied to both those he cared about and himself. 

His lashing out at you was just one of his ingrained reactions to defend himself from hurt. And you hated that you had made him feel that way. You’d hurt him. 

You also knew that you both were very mature people. After all, you had to be considering the industry you were in. Talking to him was often all he asked for. He didn’t need gifts or ornate gestures as an apology, just a way to speak about things so you both could understand what had happened and how to properly deal with it in the future. 

This pondering had strangely made you feel a bit better. A small lightness in your chest made you feel hopeful that this would all be nothing but a story to laugh at within the next few days. Or probably weeks. This first fight was something you needed to be careful with until both you and Sunghoon had wholly moved on from it.

You had no idea how long you’d been gone, but you didn’t want to head back anytime soon. Nervousness or anxiety about seeing your boyfriend again wasn’t what kept you perched on the chilly iron of the bench. Rather, the opportunity for you to reconnect with yourself and be at peace– 

“YN!”

That would’ve never lasted that long considering how you might as well have just run away.

“YN,” Jay repeated as the sound of his voice got closer. He sounded out of breath. Slowly, you opened your eyes back up. 

Puffs of air left his mouth in clouds of steam, thanks to the below-freezing weather, and he had to take a moment to presumably calm his racing heart before he was in your personal space. His arms gripped you tightly, fingers digging into the skin of your waist as he buried his face in your neck. The angle was awkward, considering how he was bent over strangely to embrace your sitting figure, but he ignored the slight stiffness that came with it to hold you. To relieve himself that you were there and you were okay.

The best you could do with your arms pinned to your sides was clumsily pat his right hip. 

When he pulled away, hands shifting to grip your biceps almost painfully, the worry in his deep brown eyes had become something more displeased. You were already predicting what scolding would leave him.

“What were you thinking?!” You simply blinked at him, vision flicking around his face, taking in his pink cheeks and slightly runny nose and irises filled with intenseness. Your lack of response only spurred him on further, “Leaving without saying where you were going, without any of us for protection, without saying if you’re okay–”

“I’m fine.”

“God, you have everyone worried sick! Jungwon-ie had to call Sejin-hyung and now, everyone’s out looking for you… You have to be more careful, you could’ve gotten mobbed or– or kidnapped or even killed!–”

“You sound like my father,” you pouted. He huffed out what must’ve been a fake laugh as he turned his head to the side for a split second before taking the spot next to you on the bench. “And I don’t think anyone is trying to kill me.”

Jay looked back at your face, “I want to kill you right now.” He pulled you into his side, tugging your head to the space between his neck and shoulder. “Don’t do that again or we’re gonna have to lock you up or something.”

His bad joke drew a small giggle out of you. You felt his tautness lessen at the sensation. 

“I’m serious, YN,” he said and his tone reflected his words almost a little too perfectly. “We heard you fight with Sunghoon and you were clearly upset–”

“I’m fine,” you repeated, fighting against his hold as you tilted your head back to look at his face. “I just couldn’t stay in that house.”

He frowned. “You could’ve talked to us though,” he said, and the hurt he spoke with made your heart clench for the millionth time that night with contrition. “You can trust us with anything. The last thing I want you to do is feel uncomfortable around me.”

You decided to ignore the change of subjects. 

“I don’t want to sound selfish, but I really couldn’t.” You sighed, weight releasing from your shoulders as you cuddled back into Jay’s side. His chin rested on your hair. “Not when you guys were what we fought about.”

A beat of silence. You were really getting tired of that.

“Sunghoon-ie’s a wreck,” Jay finally said.

You didn’t know what to say, “I am too.” At some point, your breathing pace had synced with his and you enjoyed the sensation of being so connected to someone. “I hate fighting with him more than anything, it's just– I don’t know, it just feels so wrong… Does that make sense?”

Jay nodded against the top of your head. 

“I know the feeling.”

You hesitated before continuing, “Hoon said something…” You trailed off and Jay repositioned himself again, leaning the two of you further back on the bench. “Never mind.”

“What?” he pushed. 

“He said something about you liking me.” And with that, the pressure of agitation grew in the body against you once more. Cautiously, you drew yourself away from Jay. He didn’t fight you.

Jay’s face was stoic and you struggled to read whatever emotion he was experiencing. “When I told you you didn’t have anything to worry about, I meant it,” he said plainly. Your nose wrinkled and your eyebrows drew together. 

“What?–” But Jay was pulling out his phone, dialing what you assumed to be your manager and therefore, a car to take you both back to the dorm. You didn’t stop him, tired of the night you’d had and the wide range of emotions you’d been put through. 

In mere seconds a black SUV pulled up in the street beside you. Jay got up first, offering you a hand and you took it, him helping you off the seat and over to the vehicle. He opened the door for you, and you muttered a small “Thanks” as you clambered inside.

The cushioned seat was welcome after sitting on the hard material of the bench for so long, but the way that no one said anything in the short ride back to the house wasn’t. That alone time and silence that you’d longed for earlier was now making you twitch with discomfort. Where was the Jay that joked with you? The one that made you feel so much like yourself? In the pale moonlight that shined in through the car windows, he looked princely despite the dark circles under his eyes and ruffled hair. He didn’t move his eyes from watching the scenery pass by outside and you concluded that he was in deep thought about something.

As the car pulled into the driveway, your manager in the front seat gave you one final warning about leaving the house unsupervised and left the conversation with a good night. You said nothing. Opening the car door with more strength than you probably should’ve you hoped out and slammed it behind you, not waiting for Jay as you stomped up to the front door. You weren’t sure when your anger had returned, but you took it out on the keypad of the dorm, Jay coming to watch you mess up the code twice due to your annoyance which only shortened your self-restraint. After the second time, he reached around you to enter the four numbers and opened the entry for you. 

Six other bodies rushed to you when you walked past the threshold and your hands shot up to try and block your body from the impending embrace. The last thing you wanted at that moment was to be touched by more than one pair of hands. Thankfully, Jay came to your rescue for one last time that night.

“Give her some space,” he said, shooing Jungwon away from your left side. “Let her go see Sunghoon-ie.” The whisper was meant for just Heeseung, who’d been the one standing closest to the hallway that contained all of the bedrooms. 

The eldest nodded. “He’s in your room,” Heeseung said.

“Thank you,” you offered delicately. “Good night.”

“Night.” He shuffled to the side and you walked past them without a second thought, the only thing on your mind being your boyfriend.

The sharpness of their gaze on your back prickled your nerves as you reached for the doorknob. Composure was something that lacked as you creaked the door open just enough for you to slip through, shutting it behind you swiftly. 

Sunghoon was curled up on your bed, facing the wall and with the way his shoulders were heaving, you could tell he was crying. He looked like a small child. It made your heart ache. 

You toed out of your shoes, having forgotten to take them off at the front door and softly, you tip-toed over to the bed. 

“Hi, Hoon,” you said as gently as possible, sliding your right hand over his arm as you used the other to set yourself down on the small space left on the mattress. 

His head snapped to look at you and to your confirmation, his eyes were red, tears still brimming on his waterline. 

“YN-ie…” Your other hand found the side of his head as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His bottom lip quivered, “I’m sorry.” And then it was his turn to sob as he pushed his head against your stomach. Sunghoon echoed the words again. Then again. Then again, like a mantra. All you could do was curl over him, pressing your lips against the back of his neck and whisper reassurances against his skin. 

“Breathe, Hoon,” you said, trying to get him to settle down. “Breathe with me. Please.” And then you were breathing in slowly, counting to four, and then exhaling in the same way. On your fourth deep breath, your palm on his back rose in time with your own lungs. Eventually, his whimpers stopped.

Your crewneck was wet now, but you didn’t care. Having him here with you, in your arms again as you comforted him was the only thing you could concentrate on. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna come back,” Sunghoon finally said. 

You cooed a bit at his words, “Nothing would stop me from coming back to you.”

His eyes peeked up at you from his place on your lap. And then in a blink, his forehead was against yours, his hands pulling you closer to his upright body, chest against chest. Sunghoon opened his mouth, getting ready to apologize. You kissed him before he could.

You were desperate as you both continued to pull each other as close as physically possible, tongues intertwining as a way of saying: “I’m here”. As much as you wanted to keep kissing him, there was no way you two could make up correctly if you did so. You pulled away to look at his puffy face, eyes and all. Your thumbs stroked the area under his lashes, wiping off the tears.

“Don’t you dare apologize.”

“I want to, though,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you or– or said any of those words because I didn’t mean them and they didn’t help anything–”

“I forgive you,” you interjected. “I’m at fault too. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice how you were feeling, and I’m sorry that I forgot our date.” You both exchanged a weak laugh. “I didn’t mean to ignore you and I promise and I swear and I vow, cross my heart, all of it… That I won’t do it again.”

“I highly doubt that,” Sunghoon protested, but he was smiling softly. You adopted the same expression. “But I know that you’re going to do everything in your power to try and not to.”

You nodded furiously, “You’re going to get sick of me asking if you’ve gotten enough attention.”

He chuckled, “I’m sorry if I’ve been keeping you from spending time with the others. And I’m sorry that I made you feel bad about it.”

“We’re both trying to figure out relationships,” you said. “And how to balance them with our friendships… But we’re gonna work it out together.” Sunghoon stared at you intently, his whole attention on you as you spoke. “We aren’t done talking about this, but I am not mad at you.”

He cut you off, “I love you.” That last piece of concern in your emotions eased.

“I love you.”

The next morning you and Sunghoon had spent quite a bit of time talking everything through. Him sharing his worries about his possessiveness and how to get better with it and you sharing how his words did hurt you, but understanding his point of view and how you weren’t completely innocent in the situation. By the time the group was ready to leave for Enhypen’s schedules for the day, you and Sunghoon had successfully made up from your first fight, and the rest of the members (apart from Jay) had given you a small scolding on how much you’d scared them the previous night.

The rest of the day was easy. Finally, you’d regained your attentiveness to the group’s preparation for both the last of the award show performances as well as already the next upcoming mini album. You’d felt like yourself again as you laughed with Sangmi and Riki during your dance practices and gladly took the spot next to Sunghoon during the meeting you’d had that day to discuss future content. It was the recurring theme for the week, you finding yourself again, but it was welcome. Strangely enough, you hadn’t even realized that you’d become the persona of “Just Sunghoon’s Girlfriend”. Fitting that side of you while maintaining all of your own hobbies and relationships was something you could now feel yourself getting better at. And it only made you more and more joyful. 

Sunghoon was happier as well. It was easy to tell with how he was reaching for time with the others now, and with his growing ability to share his troubles with you. Despite the changes in your relationship with him, for the better, many of your old habits stayed. You both still went on multiple dates a week (at least one of them being at a café), spent the nights together, slept on each other during car rides… the list went on. So it wasn’t abnormal for the members to find you both curled around each other on the couch when your list of to-dos for the day had been completed.

You were relaxed into Sunghoon’s side, legs thrown over his lap and talking his ear off about some cartoon you used to watch when you were little that he’d never heard of when Jay came into the living room. 

“YN-ie,” he said, interrupting your chattering and causing both you and your boyfriend to look over in his direction. Jay was standing next to the front door, parka on and a black beanie hiding the majority of his still bleach-blond hair. “D’you still wanna learn how to cook?”

You nudged Sunghoon’s head with your own and peered over at him. He was still smiling, not a hint of discomfort on his face as he bumped your head back. 

“Go,” he whispered to you. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jay-hyung, you're doing me a favor,” Sunghoon suddenly spoke up. “Maybe by the time you’re back she’ll be tired of talking about Gravity Falls.”

You gasped and smacked Sunghoon’s chest lightly, “I’d never get tired of talking about Gravity Falls.” 

He grabbed the hand that had just hit him and stuck his tongue out at you. You used your free hand to try and swat at his face but he just barely dodged you, swiftly taking hold of your right hand too. Sunghoon puckered his lips at you, “Kiss.”

“No please?”

“Please?–”

“Oh my god, get a room,” Jay said from his spot by the entryway. At his words, you leaned over and gave Sunghoon a quick peck before you were clambering off his lap, Sunghoon yelling out in faux pain as you did so. 

“Is the car already here?” you asked as you approached Jay, him already holding a coat open for you to put on. 

You turned so your back was facing him, and he helped you pull on the outerwear. “Yeah, so say your goodbyes.”

“Does this cooking involve me never seeing anyone again?” you joked, tugging your hair free from the space between the coat and your neck. Both of the boys laughed. 

“Depends on how long it takes us to get these groceries,” Jay responded, opening the door for you as you pulled on your shoes. 

You sighed, “Okay, okay. Bye, Hoon! Love you!”

The phrase was repeated back to you as you and Jay exited the dorms. The ride to the store market Jay had picked out was shorter than you thought it’d be and before the two of you could get too deep into your conversation, he was already helping you out of the car and starting along the vendors, bodyguard following closely behind the two of you. 

“What are we making?” you questioned after passing by a vendor that was making Odeng for a couple that was wearing matching jackets. The sight made you wonder if that’s what you and Jay looked like–a couple.

He interrupted your thoughts, “Atlang.” You furrowed your eyebrows as your mouth dropped open a bit.

“Fish egg soup?”

“Don’t give me that look,” he said, barely moving his eyes to look at you. “You’re acting like you don’t breathe and sleep sushi.”

He had a point there.

“So I’m guessing we’re here for the fish eggs,” you continued.

“The myeongnan–” you rolled your eyes a little at his fancy terms, “and the gochujang paste. We have the vegetables and spices at home–”

“On your left!”

You were in Jay’s arms before you could process something whirring past you in a blur. His jacket was plush and cold between your fingers as you gripped onto him tightly and you were grateful that you hadn’t tripped over your own feet and taken you both down to the cement. A dryness caught in your throat when you recognized how close Jay’s face was to yours. Your brain felt empty as you stared at his warm brown eyes that seemed strong and ever-growing–his attention focused on the scooter that had almost just run you over. 

That sudden adrenaline that always came after a close call never appeared in your veins, though. Because the only thing you could sense as you pulled him closer, hanging on tight and taking in the woody perfume that he’d been using lately, was calmness. Centered. Security. Surprise, at the fact that you were feeling these things. 

“Idiot. Who rides a scooter in the middle of a marketplace?– God…” And then he was looking at you and that calmness was replaced with a rush of dopamine and the adrenaline you’d been waiting for. “Are you okay?”

Your tongue barely darted out to wet your lips as you stared at his own. 

“Mhm,” you softly hummed and you were back on your feet before you could finish the sentence and process what was happening. 

“Good, let’s go.”

What? At his change in attitude, you felt out of breath. Nonetheless, you followed him. 

The rest of the shopping trip flew by. As the two (three, bodyguard– duh) of you strolled along the stands and vendors, searching for what you needed, you couldn’t help but get distracted by some of the items. A necklace that you didn’t have the money with you to buy, a scarf that you would’ve loved to give your sister for Christmas, and some delicious-looking tteokbokki that Jay wouldn't let you get.

“You’ll ruin your dinner!”

“Please! I’m starving.”

“That’ll make this meal that much better!” 

Begrudgingly, you’d given up on the street food and thankfully, not much longer after that, you’d found the last thing you were looking for. With the staff that’d come with you holding the bags, you whispered to Jay about how your feet hurt.

He squatted down almost instantly. Grinning widely, you’d climbed onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. But then his hands curled around the backs of your thighs and it was all you could think about. For the walk back to the car, his fingers digging into your skin and making you feel warm. In an attempt to hide your heated face, you hid it in his neck and somehow, Jay didn’t complain about how your breath tickled his skin. 

Your mouth was so close to him. You wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled. If he would like it if you kissed that birthmark that was just under his jaw. That mark was so adorable–

Once again, your feet were being placed back on the pavement without you noticing it. Your hands moved slowly away from Jay’s neck, down his back a bit and then they were retracted immediately after you processed how inappropriate it was for you to be touching him like that. Especially when you had a boyfriend. Jay didn’t seem like he cared though, and if he did, he didn’t say anything. 

He still opened the car door for you, helped you in, and made you laugh on the car ride back. Easing the thoughts you had of whether he saw how you’d been acting or not. It was almost happening unconsciously, the thoughts and longings that you usually only had with Sunghoon. And the guilt you felt about it was heavy, considering how Sunghoon had shown how bothered he was about you acting like a girlfriend to the other members. To your shared friends. 

Everyone had apparently headed off to their respective rooms by the time you and Jay re-entered the dorms. Night had barely fallen so you figured that they were all taking a moment for themselves before you and Jay called them out for dinner. After removing your outerwear, Jay and you headed into the kitchen, him carrying the groceries as you slid along the tile in your fuzzy socks.

“Haul time!” you cheered, jumping around the edge of the island so you were on the side that was with the stove. 

Jay chuckled, “First…” he took something out of the bag. “The gochujang paste!” You let out a small ‘yay’ as you took the container out of his hands, placing it on the counter. “And lastly…” he revealed the package of myeongnan!”

“Whoo!”

“‘Whoo’ is absolutely right,” he said as he joined you on your side of the room, opening the fridge to store the marinated pollack roe. “Everyone should be grateful that we’re making them such a high-quality meal tonight.”

“Maybe I’ll just watch you make it.”

Jokingly, you moved away from him, hands gliding behind you on the cool surface of the island. As expected, Jay’s fingers circled your wrists before you could get too far and you were being pulled back to him.

“Nice try,” he laughed and you frowned. “You’re a big girl and you can help me make dinner.”

Well, you weren’t going to argue with that. Especially when his voice sounded a bit deeper than it usually did. 

Nervously, you separated your touch from his to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Fair enough. What do we start with?”

“Washing your hands,” Jay said, tilting his head back towards the sink as he moved to rummage through the cupboards for the utensils you’d be needing. 

You nodded, “Makes sense.” 

The hot water was borderline scalding on your hands, but at that point, you were willing to try anything to remove the electricity that Jay left behind on your skin.

Cooking when you were doing it right, and with someone who you enjoyed spending time with, was surprisingly easy. You had thought that it would require more precision, exact measurements and stirs and timeframes, but Jay made everything look so natural. He told you that almost everything could be done with your instincts and a little bit of guidance from the recipe and he was absolutely right. It was effortless to relax after you gained a bit more confidence in your movements and the jokes and conversation flowed as a harmony with the quiet background music Jay had turned on at some point.

Everything was done cooking sooner than you’d thought it’d be and you were almost disappointed that your time alone with the older male was almost up for the night. Trying not to dwell on the collapse of contentedness, you continued slowly chopping up the last of the vegetables that would go with the altang. 

“Ah,” Jay said from behind you and you looked over your shoulder to see him approaching you. “That was the other thing I wanted to fix.”

“What part of me are you trying to fix?” You laughed.

He smiled as he shifted so he was standing directly behind you, “Your cutting skills.”

The hardness of his chest pressed against your back and your nerves seized and you dropped the knife onto the cutting board at the sudden closeness. Frozen was the only way to describe your movements as Jay silently reached his arm across your body, one hand delicately taking hold of your right hand to turn it over while the other retrieved the knife. Only his soft breathing was against your ears as he placed the handle back into your grasp, his fingers arranging your own to hold the blade in a certain way. 

The rise and fall of your lungs slowed. You felt dizzy, like his nose brushing against the shell of your ear as he peered over your smaller frame was putting some kind of spell on you. Focusing on the task at hand felt impossible as he somehow got even closer, arms practically wrapped around you while he adjusted your other hand. His fingers looked so large compared to your own and the sight of him effortlessly bending your knuckles so you wouldn’t cut your fingertips off only intensified that dizziness.

Maybe this was too inappropriate for a girl who already had a boyfriend but at that moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your love for Sunghoon was so strong and you thought that there was no possible way it could’ve been matched, but there was something else growing in your heart that made those conclusions falter. 

Jay had always been there for you, had always been the one to take care of you, and was the one noticing the things that no one else did. You’d always appreciated him, been grateful for the way he treated you like a princess, but you couldn’t help but recall recent times when he’d been a bit too assertive over others when it came to you. Him calling off the other boys when you ran out of water during practice, saying you would share with him. Him sending a glare to anyone who’d enter the beauty room while you were getting ready with him being the one keeping you company. Him indirectly trying to get you to spend less time with Sunghoon and more with the other members. Including Jay himself. Little things, but now, in this intimate position you couldn’t help but think they had a different meaning. 

Overwhelmed, you set the knife down, Jay loosening his grip on you to let you do so safely. 

“Jay…” Your whisper could barely be heard over the hushed music, but he still hummed after you said his name. Hip brushing against his, you carefully turned around. Jay’s hands didn’t move from around you, his hands resting on the edge of the counter. You were caged in against him. 

His eyes were so pretty. You couldn’t read the look in them, your brain too cloudy and his intense stare almost made it impossible to maintain eye contact. But you might as well have been hypnotized. The brown of irises was so warm that you could only think of chocolate and how badly you wanted to drown in them.

You weren’t sure who kissed who first. 

Jay could’ve leaned down or you could’ve risen on your toes but it didn’t matter because his lips were finally moving against your own. 

It didn’t take long for his mouth to crash against yours and you think you might’ve whimpered as his tongue found its way between your lips. Subconsciously, her hands roamed under the hem of his shirt, discovering the firm muscles of his lower back as his tongue explored your mouth. It was a kiss that was meant for lovers behind locked doors, not in a dimly lit kitchen where anyone could walk in. Jay deepened the kiss even more, which you didn’t think was possible, and only then did you realize what you were doing. 

Your hands that had been lovingly holding him to you were abruptly pulling him away from you, knowing that now he should be as far away from you as possible. Jay stumbled back at the tugging against his white t-shirt, hitting the edge of the stove and causing the pans placed on the border to clatter back towards the middle. 

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” you gasped, hand shooting up to your mouth. 

Jay shook his head, “No, it’s okay. I’m okay. Are you alright–”

Now your own head was moving side to side hard enough to cause a dull pain behind your skull. A tear fell despite you not even realizing that they had begun to well up. 

The guilt that was creeping up inside of you made you feel physically ill, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. You felt horrible, you were horrible. You were a horrible girlfriend. God, how could you keep making mistakes like this when Sunghoon…

“Sunghoon…” you sobbed, hand against your mouth shaking as you processed what you’d just done. Jay was instantly back at your side. 

Softly, he took your hand in his and moved it away from your face, holding it in his. “Shh– shh… I’m sorry, I’m sorry. We can talk to him and explain–”

“Explain what?” you cried in a manner that was perhaps a bit too loud. “That I– I– cheated on him?” You couldn’t get enough air in your chest. You were going to puke. There was a steady thumping under your palm. 

Jay lifted your hand to his chest, letting it rest on his heart and feel the slower pace at which he was breathing. “You need to breathe, YN, you’re having a panic attack.” 

Closing your eyes, you let a trembling breath escape your lips. And as Jay’s chest rose, you took a deep breath and exhaled as he did so. Repeating the process was easy, but opening your eyes to Jay’s saddened face made your heartbreak and guilt build up all over again.

“I–”

“You guys okay? Thought I heard something break,” Heeseung said from the doorway. Neither of you said anything, Jay just kept looking at you as you turned your vision to the floor. 

Clenching your fist tightly, you let the pain of your fingernails digging into your skin distract you from the pain in your heart and you cleared your throat. “Yeah, we’re fine. Dinner’s ready.”

You pushed away from Jay, wiping the water from your cheeks. Keeping your head down, you brushed past Heeseung, beelining for the bathroom you used most often since you figured that was the only place where no one would question why you were crying. You burst into the room quickly, shutting the door behind you as quietly as possible.

And for the next hour, you laid on the bathroom floor, the coolness of the tile on your face keeping you present. Keeping you thinking about how you hated yourself for kissing Jay. Hated yourself for liking it and loving him.

All of the progress you’d made in your relationship with Sunghoon had been ruined in under five minutes. All of the self-love that was beginning to return to you had been ripped away the moment you’d decided to kiss Jay back. And if the avoiding you’d done with Sunghoon before you both got together was bad, the way you were avoiding Jay was borderline criminal. You’d thrown yourself fully into your relationship with Sunghoon, making up your mind about how if you gave him more love it would cancel out the tiny mistake you’d made. The huge mistake you’d made. 

It had only been two days, but the time that’d passed felt like an eternity. There was no way you’d be able to keep your actions with Jay a secret for much longer. You told Sunghoon everything. He was your best friend, your person, and you rarely kept things from him. Usually when you messed up, you and he would be able to open up and share how you were feeling and how to make it better. But you knew that if he ever found out about this, he would never forgive you. It was wrong to keep something like this from him, but you didn’t want to lose him. 

But you didn’t want to lose Jay in the process either. 

And that was exactly what was happening. You liked to think that you took your time to process things and think your options through when really, you would put decisions off to avoid the consequences of them. Ignoring Jay almost every time he tried to speak with you and never allowing yourself to be alone in a room with him was hurting him. You could tell that much. With the way the shine that was in his eyes when he would see you would dim when you would pretend like you didn’t hear him. The way you’d stop coming to him for help with things. You knew you were making him feel unneeded and unwanted, but you couldn’t dare pick between the two boys.

Because you were in love with both of them.

The thought still didn’t seem morally correct to you, you weren’t sure if it would ever feel socially acceptable either, but it was true. Your coming to terms with your feelings for Jay were much different than your experience with the ones for Sunghoon. You weren’t able to embrace them fully in fear that both boys would leave you if you played your cards wrong or said something that would set them both off. And it didn’t help that they both had possessive tendencies. 

So you turned to Sangmi, one of the only people you could trust with this information. 

“You like both of them?” she’d asked, removing the sheet mask that you’d both been doing in the soft lighting of your guys’ room. 

You nodded, “Love. I think I love both of them.”

She pursed her lips and puffed her cheeks out, focused on folding her mask. After a moment, she’d thrown it into the trash can, almost missing so the skincare hung over one of the sides of the gray plastic. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, babe. I can’t say I’ve ever been in that position–”

“Just tell me what you would do.”

“But I can’t,” she had sighed. “Because we’re each our own person. Just because I would do something one way doesn’t mean you should do it as well.”

You whined and slumped over onto her lap. In a comforting manner, she threaded her fingers through your hair, scratching her nails lightly over your scalp. “I’m stuck! I don’t think I would be able to live without either of them…”

“First of all, you definitely would–” Your groan of annoyance cut her off and she giggled. “Second of all, from what you’ve told me, they love you too.” Her voice had gotten quiet. You straightened your spine back to an upright position and locked eyes with your best friend. 

“You think so?”

Sangmi had hummed in agreement, “Talk with them. If they love you as much as you love them, then they would be willing to do anything to be with you. To make you happy.”

“Even sharing,” you sighed as you flipped around and rested back down on her folded legs. “That’s so much to ask of a man, though. One can’t even stay loyal to one girl most of the time.” Your hands flopped to your side. “How am I supposed to ask for so much from them? One girl and two guys? No way that could ever last.”

“Not with that mindset,” Sangmi laughed. Her face grew pensive and while you waited for her to continue, you stared at the white ceiling. “I think that you’ve always made love out to be trickier than it actually is–”

“But sometimes–”

“Sometimes there are exceptions, and this whole kiss thing with Jay-oppa might be one of them, but YN-ie–let yourself go for once.”

You looked down at your hands, folded over your chest, rising and falling as you breathed. 

“I just feel like every time I do that I mess up.”

“You’re human. Humans mess up all the time but you’re never going to get anywhere if you don’t take a risk.”

You bit your lip, “Maybe you’re right.”

Sangmi shrugged, “I tend to be.”

“Or maybe you’re just feeding my delusions– Hey!” You squealed as she threw one of her pillows at your face. 

“I’m never giving you advice again,” she said, sounding like a stressed mother. You giggled. 

And now, swallowing your pride, your feet padded against the smooth tile of the living room as you approached Sunghoon after claiming that you were going to use the bathroom. When really, you’d spent a good four minutes in the space mentally preparing yourself for this difficult conversation. 

“Hey,” you said, a smile on your face as you found your spot right next to him on the couch again. 

Sunghoon turned off his phone, watching you approach him with his own dazed expression. “Hi. How was the bathroom?”

“As awesome as ever.” You sounded nervous. Nervous was an understatement. You were pretty sure you were shaking. “Um… I actually needed to talk to you about something that’s been– um, bothering me for a couple of days.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows knitted together and he nodded slowly, “Yeah, what is it?”

“So…” you started, shifting onto your knees so you were closer to eye-level with him. “I’m not really sure how to say this but um… the other night, when Jay-oppa and I were cooking we… um…”

Sunghoon tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes a bit at you. “You what?”

“We kissed,” Jay said from the doorway, entering the conversation just like he did the night Sunghoon and you were speaking of. 

Afraid, you glanced back at Jay, who looked angry, then at Sunghoon, whose face was blank. Your heart dropped. Their reactions were exactly the opposite of what you’d been hoping for. But they were exactly what you’d been expecting. 

You waited for one of them to yell at you. To call you a horrible name and say you were disgusting. For Sunghoon to break up with you, for Jay to say he regretted ever kissing you, but neither of them said anything. And that only scared you more, but you had no idea what to say.

Finally, Sunghoon clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and his eyes zoned in on Jay. Then he was standing up and your vision followed him, uncertain of what he was going to do. 

“God, man, what do I have to do to get you to back the fuck off from my girlfriend?” He laughed bitterly and you felt frozen once again, just like you do in every conflicting situation. 

Jay scoffed, eyes shooting back and forth between you and Sunghoon, “She kissed me back. And you know, I think she liked it.” The last part was a whisper and you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall to the floor as both boys let the sight of you looking pitiful on the couch be the center of their attention. 

Embarrassed, you nodded. 

“Well, then what do we do?” Sunghoon said, his anger creeping into his tone. “Because you’re clearly trying to ruin my relationship with her–”

“YN’s not completely innocent in this either!”

“I’m right here!” you yelled, fed up with how neither you nor Jay were refusing to take responsibility for the situation and for how Sunghoon wasn’t accepting that you cheated on him. “And if anything, this whole thing is my fault. Not yours.” You looked at Sunghoon as you also stood up, pushing away from the couch. “Or yours,” you said, eyeing Jay. 

You blinked back tears, trying to remain strong.

“Because– because I’m in love with you both. And I feel disgusting saying it because you both deserve someone that will love you both how you deserve and–” Sunghoon’s arms were around you before you could finish your sentence. The only words you could repeat were “I’m sorry” as Sunghoon soothingly hushed you, hand resting at the back of your neck as he held you close to his chest. 

You felt another pair of hands travel around your sides as Jay wrapped around you both, effectively surrounding you from every free space. Sunghoon’s cheek fell onto your head and Jay’s chin ended up on your left shoulder. Their scents, the warmth of their skin, and the feeling of their heartbeats was enough to ground you again and you found yourself calming down as you weakly encircled Sunghoon’s middle with your arms.

“Okay, I’m okay,” you said, getting a bit overwhelmed with the tightness you were enveloped in. Both of the boys backed away hesitatingly, and you took a spot on the couch again. Sunghoon followed suit quickly as Jay stood next to your side in front of the furniture. 

“Sunghoon-ah, I’m not trying to destroy your relationship with YN-ie,” Jay confessed. “You’re important to her and… and you’re important to me too.” 

With a confirming nod, Sunghoon accepted the elder’s words. 

“I’m in love with her too,” Jay added and his words made your heart practically stop. Your eyes felt a bit too wide to be normal and he stared down at you with a small smile on his lips. “And I want what’s best for her and clearly, that’s you.”

“We shouldn’t have kissed, Hoon,” you joined in, turning to face your boyfriend. His elbows were resting on his knees as he took in what Jay and you had to say. “And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, and apologizing for not telling you about it right away, and I’m sorry I didn’t say that I was falling in love with Jay sooner because– I love you so so much.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Sunghoon admitted after you finished speaking. “I don’t think I’m really that mad, actually just more sad that you felt like you couldn’t tell me.”

Reaching for his left hand, you carefully took it into your own. “You mean so much to me, Hoon. I didn’t want to hurt you–”

“It does hurt,” he said and your bottom lip trembled a bit. “You aren’t forgiven yet, but I’m not going to break up with you.”

Hope lit through you, you could practically feel it seeping out of your pores. “Really?”

“I love you,” he said simply. “And I know you love me. But I know that you love Jay too–”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said, squeezing his hand tightly. “I’ll do whatever makes both of you happy.” Glancing back and forth between them, you continued, “If that’s not being with either of you, so be it–”

“Absolutely not,” Jay laughed. “Do you know how hard Hoon here had to work to get you to date him?”

Sunghoon sighed, “That’s not the point.” You stifle a giggle at the irritated look he sent Jay. “Let me finish. It’s going to take a lot of work, for me and Jay-hyung, but I’m okay with… I don’t wanna say sharing, that sounds wrong, but, if being with both of us is what you want…” he cocked his head to the side, eyes swimming with a varied mix of emotions. “Then I’m okay with it.”

“So what… You’re suggesting I date both of you?” you asked, eyebrows furrowing. Peering over your shoulder, you locked eyes with Jay, who also looked like he was in deep thought. “If you want to, Jay-oppa.”

A few seconds passed before Jay answered, “We’ll have to take things super slow. And Sunghoon-ie and I are gonna have to figure out how to get over our jealousy, but yeah. Let’s do it.”

You didn’t even try to hide how overjoyed you were, a grin proudly present on your face as you practically jumped on Sunghoon, peppering kisses all over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you so so so so so–”

“Okay– okay! Calm down, princess, I love you too,” he chuckled. You pulled away, gazing sweetly at his eyes before leaning in to kiss him. Nothing deep, just a long peck on the lips before you withdrew from Sunghoon and turned to Jay. 

“C’mere,” you said, reaching for him. He complied, smirking a bit as you tugged his face to yours, giving Jay his own peck on the lips. “I love you.”

Jay gave you a peck on your cheek, “I love you.”

“Okay, that’s enough for now,” Sunghoon said. His hands drew you back to his chest and tucking your head under his chin protectively. 

“I don’t get to join in on the cuddles?”

“No. Just me. Remember you guys need to make it up to me for kissing before we agreed on… whatever this is.” Sunghoon’s hair was silk-like between your fingers as you twisted your arm up so you could play with his locks. 

Laughing, you patted the spot next to you on the couch. “You can sit next to us, Jay. I’ll play with your hair too if you want me to.”

Jay seemed to brighten again. He was leading your hand to his head as he laid down on the cushions, head falling on your lap. Sunghoon complained a bit, but after a few kisses, he finally settled in. 

You knew you all had a lot of work to do, but with both of them laughing and being there with you, that feeling of fullness–of being complete, you’d been searching for for so long returned. Permanently. Happiness would be easier every day as long as you had both of your boys by your side, just like this.

마리셀의 노트 , thanks to miss lana del rey for giving me the motivation to finish this😓 I’ll try to be faster with writing in the future but I am in school so that’s my first priority!🌷🩷 please don’t be afraid to ask me stuff / interact with me! and thank you for all of the support🥰💕💋

#⺡aoki yn ₊ #disclaimerꜝꜝthis is fictional #poly!enhypen #poly enhypen #poly enhypen x reader #enhypen x reader #ot7 x reader #enha #enhypen #enhypen 8th member #enhypen added member #jungwon x reader #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #niki x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Everything has been appropriately labeled, please do not read the ones marked 18+ if you are a minor

Multi-Chapter Series:

HEART OF THE FAE: The forest is full of mythical creatures, and you unwisely trespass on their territory. What happens when you become the ward of a handsome, blond, high Fae? Teaser Chapter 1 - The Forest

SECOND CHANCE SORCERER: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape? Chapter 1 - Phantom Tokyo Chapter 2 - A Message

One-Shots/Scenarios

Hell Hath No Fury (18+ #bhmf event) A night of lost tempers leads to Nanami contemplating certain (sexy) choices. Braiding Nanami's Chest Hair (13+) Basically the title. Fluff. Lipstick Test(18+) Reader gets creative when showing Nanami her different lip products. Vacation (18+) Nanami and a balcony in Paris. When The Cat's Away(18+) The mice do not come out to play as the reader patiently waits for Nanami to come home and relieve her from his previous edging. Can't stay away from you (13+) Ask box prompt. You can't stay away from him, no matter what. Lazy Saturday Mornings (18+) Morning sex with Nanami. Nanami's Baby Photos (E) Reader and Nanami are moving in and she finds a cute surprise when she opens one of the boxes. Promise Me (13+) Teen! Nanami. Reader is Nanami's high school sweetheart. When faced with a solo mission, she contemplates her life and choices as a Jujutsu sorceress. Angsty, fluffy. Nanami x Clueless Virgin Reader(18+) Ask box request. Shy!Virgin!Fem!Reader. Nanami introduces her to first orgasm. Secure In Your Lap (13+) Implied Desi!Asian!Reader, but good for anyone with difficult family dynamics. When reader gets an unwanted phone call from her mother, she's reminded of all the ways Nanami has made her feel loved and secure. Bridal Shop (18+) A final dress fitting leads to something else when the bridal shop owner, Nanami Kento, takes over your appointment. I’m Never Too Tired For That…( 18+) Fem!Reader. Reader is frustrated when her husband keeps coming home too tired for intimate activity. His Perfect Girl (18+) Fem!Reader. You'll do anything to be his perfect girl. Slight praise kink. A Little Jealousy (18+) Fem!Reader. You find out what happens when Nanami gets jealous.

Thoughts/Headcanons:

Giving Nanami Head (18+) Nanami Secretly Dances Teen Nanami's Favorite Songs Fae! Nanami Nanami Needs Advance Notice Me Flirting With Nanami as a Barbie Doll Nanami as a minion Nanami Loves it When You Annoy Him Laughing During Sex Nanami is Bad at Showing Interest Nanami Hates Libraries Me Flirting With Nanami as a Biotechnologist Nanami as a kid Nanami is a polite lover Nanami's housewife or an independent sorceress Nanami Soft Lover Original Post Nanami and boobs ask box Nanami X Desi Reader Nanami Kento Headcanons(partially MDNI) Random Nanami NSFW Thoughts Pt 1 If I was dating Nanami 1 If I was dating Nanami 2

Drabbles:

Easter Egg Prompt (E) Berry Red Prompt (E) Nature Prompt (E) Art Supplies Prompt (E) Dessert Prompt (13+) Dates Prompt (E) Mushroom Prompt (E)

Ask Box/Conversations/Misc:

Bring Nanami Back Calling Nanami a Dumb Blond Nanami MBTI Ask Nanami is Nurturing Nanami's Lap Nanami Soft Lover Ask Box

WIPS/Requests:

Fae! Nanami collab with @actuallysaiyan (multi-chapter)

Entry for @/ bleach-your-panties Blondes Have More Fun writing event

Second Chance Sorcerer Chapter 2

Nanami somno (ask box request)

Husband Nanami fluff/smut

Reader getting attacked by a Taylor Swift curse now can't stop singing her lyrics (include Shake It off)

#vee's masterlist #nanami kento fluff #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #jjk nanami #nanamin #nanami kento masterlist #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #kento nanami smut #kento nanami

[luvinescent]

Mismatched Hearts

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Robb have been friends since childhood; the two harboring feelings for one another without the others’ knowledge. When Robb’s mother makes the choice to meddle in his love life by constructing an engagement between the two—Robb is left with guilt at the belief that he has trapped her in an unwanted marriage with him because of his status. Neither one choosing to confess their feelings or address the situation; they do more harm than good towards their friendship and future marriage.

Warnings: angst angst but fluff but angst but fluff yk

Word count: 5996

Part 2/2

Previous

The scent of roasted baby pig filled the dining room, along with the various dishes that had been laid out by the servants. Presently, a family dinner was being held between the Starks and the Y/Ns. Eddard had sought out Y/Ns father; inviting the family to their household to bond with one another. The table setting was situated with Eddard at the head of the table, his wife beside him, Robb beside her, and the rest of the Stark children (minus Jon, per Catelyn’s request). Y/N’s father sat on the other side of Eddard, her mother next to him, herself beside them, and her younger sibling sitting at the end. From her position, she sat right across from Robb. While jokes and talk was being shared between the parents, and laughter between the younger siblings; Y/N and Robb hadn’t even shared a glance at each other. Sansa was the first to crack Y/N to speak, asking her on what color she had decided for her dress.

“Oh, I haven’t even thought about that kind of stuff yet…” Y/N extended, “I guess white for traditions…maybe gold”, she answered, smiling at the young girl. Digging into her meal, Sansa scrunched up her face in enthusiasm, “I’m so excited! Soon we’ll be sisters!” Robb had let his eyes linger up from his dish and land upon Y/n as she laughed, watching Sansa and Arya now argue about “You already have a sister!” and “Well, not a good one!”. He took in her beauty, memorized by the sound of her laughter and the way she held a kind of glow in her eyes. Sensing someone was watching her, Y/N turned her head; her laughter stopped abruptly as she made eye contact with him. The two shared a long glance until it felt all too much, and they both looked back down at their plates. Both blushing immensely.

Y/N’s father patted his belly, letting out a grunt of satisfaction, “That meal was heavenly, Ed. I cannot begin to thank you for inviting my family and I into your home”, he said with her mother nodding along. Catelyn waved her hand in the air, replying in her husband’s place, “Nonsense. We are to be family soon, so a dinner is expected. I hope you saved room for dessert.” At the mention, servants began to enter the room with plates containing slices of lemon cake. Once given to each person at the table, everyone began to dig in; except for two people. Y/N stared at her slice while Robb observed her. Noticing her untouched piece, Eddard questioned the girl, “Lady Y/N, you have no appetite left in you? Or are you participating in the practice that ladies do of cutting sweets off to lose weight for your wedding?”. Y/N cringed at the comment in displeasure, but hid it behind a smile, “No, my lord. I am just not fond of sweets- “

“She hates lemon cake”, Robb announced to the table. Picking up her plate, and his, he called a servant over, “Take this back to the kitchen. Bring the lady a slice of strawberry cake instead”. The servant nodded and scurried away. Sitting back down in his seat, Robb chose to ignore all the stares that were put on him and focused his attention on only one person: Y/N. She nodded at Robb and spoke a very gently, “Thank you”. Their mothers gave each other a knowing glance as they watched their children interact. Robb cleared his throat and returned her nod, “It is alright. It would not be fair for everyone to be enjoying dessert and for you not”. The servant returned into the room, handing Robb his plate and Y/N hers. Before she could grab it, Robb took the plate from her and replaced it with his; their fingers gently brushing one another’s. “Here,” he pulled back his hand quickly as he set the plate down, “this one is a larger slice”. She thanked him once again as he continued his talk, “I know how much you enjoy your sweets”.

There was a hint of mischief in his voice that only she could hear. Y/N understood his little inside joke; referring to all those times when they would steal the baked goods from the kitchen. At their small age, it was an intense mission of trying not to get caught that involved a lot of running and tripping on their feet. In the end, they would still get caught as all Lady Catelyn had to do was follow the trail of dropped biscuits. Y/N smiled fondly at the memory and let out a small giggle; which she felt embarrassed for as now all the attention was turned on her. “Sorry,” she apologized as she must’ve looked crazy for laughing out of nowhere, “Yes. I do enjoy my sweets very much”. Robb grinned, feeling happy that she was able to notice his jest.

Smiling while staring at the two, Y/N’s father interrupted their moment, “I must thank you son. You two are not married yet and you are already acting like an attentive husband. I can rest easy knowing my daughter shall be in good hands”. Robb smiled and nodded at his words but hidden behind him were his anxious thoughts that were returning once again.

Good hands? he thought, you mean the hands that have confined her.

Eddard raised his glass of wine, with everyone else following through, “To a happy marriage and alliance”. Some moments later, after everyone had finished their dessert and wine, people began to stand and leave. Robb made quick work of heading straight towards the door but was interrupted by Y/N wrapping her hand around his forearm.

“Robb, can we please talk- “

“I’m sorry my lady but I must go”. And with that, once again, Robb left—leaving her standing there by herself.

Since their last encounter in the dining hall, several days had transpired and not a word had been spoken between Robb and Y/N. At first, Y/N sought out Robb several times, but the male had refused her advances or hidden from her. After that, Y/N was fed up and gave him similar treatment; ignoring his presence when she passed him down the halls on her way to see his sisters and not greeting him when she saw him with Jon.

“Jon. Lovely day we’re having today.” She smiled warmly at the boy, disregarding the other who stood tall right next to him. “It is quite a lovely day, my lady”, Jon spoke, “Where are you heading off to?”. Nodding, she turned her head in the direction of the great keep, “Lady Stark has been giving me lessons on- “, ever so quickly, her eyes had darted over to Robb before returning back to his brother, “-being Lady of Winterfell. I, uh, I should get going. I’ll see you later”. And with that, she picked up the skirts of her dress and left their company. She was a few steps away when the Greyjoy boy came into view, “Theon. Hope you have a good day” and she was gone. Theon was given little time to process the greeting, returning a stuttering “Y-You t-too, my l-lady!”. Walking up to the two brothers, his eyes were bulging in disbelief, “I must have hit my head or something! That’s the first time I ever heard her call me by my first name. A lovely sound it was for my name to come out her mo- “

“Do not go all lovesick. Her hand is spoken for” Robb said annoyed with a hint of anger in his voice. Jon was also quick to notice the jealous tone that was hidden in there. He cleared his throat, staring around the castle yard, “Her hand is spoken for, you say? Yet you two have not spoken a word to one another in days”. Robb’s head turned quick and a glare was delivered to Jon that made even him slightly quiver, “Mind your business, Snow”. A stare down between the two was in motion, several seconds of pure silence gone by. Theon, still not good at reading the room, threw in his two cents and slightly laughed “You two still aren’t talking? Sounds like her hand is up for grabs to me. Maybe I should go find the lady right now and convince- “. Theon had no time to finish his banter as he found himself on the ground, in mud, having been pushed by Robb. And hard.

“Ow! You prick! I was only joking!” he exclaimed.

“Joke or not, remove such thoughts from that head of yours. As if I would ever let Y/N go with the likes of you”, Robb glared down at him fiercely.

Jon pushed his brother aside to help the Greyjoy boy to his feet, both frowning at the Stark heir. Theon grumbled in irritation, “Yeah, yeah, fine. Now look at me—I got mud all over me!”. Jon rolled his eyes, taking out the piece of cloth he has kept on him for the past weeks now, “Stop wining like a baby and use this”. Before Theon could take the item, it was confiscated by Robb. “Oh, what?! Am I not allowed to get this shit off me?!”, Theon expressed.

Staring down at the handkerchief, Robb recognized the coloring as well as the sewing of a badly stitched direwolf. “Where did you get this?” he questioned, fixating his eyes on Jon.

Jon sighed at the sight of Robb, “She gave it to me. Said to burn it but I didn’t have the heart to do it”. Robb stared down at what originally had belonged to him but had given up because of his insecurities. Ever so carefully, he caressed the fabric, turning it around and now noticing the small stitched initials in the corner. The first initial was sewed perfectly, while the second looked as though a mistake was made or a new thought had been formed. Robb knew right away that Y/N had originally sought to sew her last name initial, but changed her mind and replaced it with an S instead.

First/Initial S.

Y/N Stark.

Not being able to handle his feelings, Robb left in a hurry, taking the handkerchief with him. Jon watched as Robb left; it felt like he was seeing more of Robb’s back than he was of him entirely these days. To Jon, maybe this could finally be what can reconnect Y/N and Robb again. His thoughts were interrupted, eyes rolling as Theon yelled beside him “Hey, where you going?! While you’re at it, bring me back something to clean myself with, you cunt!”

Finding her was never hard for Robb. Once he spotted her, walking alone down the halls, he quickly jogged up to her. “My lady,” he called out but she chose to ignore him and his repeated addresses. “My lady,” he tried once more as he finally caught up to her, standing right behind her, “Y/N”. With that, she turned ever slowly to face the oldest Stark child, hand clasped in front of her, “Yes, my lord?”. He chewed on his bottom lip and vexedly looked around, “You know I am not a Lord until my father passes down his title. Call me by my first name”. Laughing bitterly, she placed her hands upon her hips, “I can do many things —call you many things. But I just won’t do that”. He stared deeply into her eyes before pulling out his handkerchief, “Was this one of the many things you can do?”. She gaped at his palm, looking back at him in furry, “Where did you get that? How did you get that?”.

He answered her question straightforwardly, “Jon had it—said you gave it to him” he raised the cloth to show her initials, “Never mind that. Explain why you put this here”.

Angrily, she took the handkerchief out of his grasp and held it tightly against her chest, “I gave it to Jon because you said, and I quote, “I never asked you to do this and I don’t need this”, she said doing her best to deepen her voice to impersonate Robb. Before Robb could cut in, she continued “And I put that there because I wanted to give you that gift not as a friend, but as your wife. When we were to be married, I thought the best first gift I could possibly give you was my time and effort. As if any of that matters now”.

Robb locked eyes with her as he fully took in her revelations. A part of him felt jubilation that she never felt obligated to make him his gift but instead did it out of her own accord. The other part pf him felt deep anger towards himself for how he acted towards her. Taking a step closer, Robb conveyed, “What do you mean it doesn’t matter- “. Robb stopped talking abruptly as he fully took in her previous speech.

“What do you mean by when we were to be married?”.

Swallowing harshly, Y/N sheepishly looked away; not having the strength in her to look him in the eyes. “You were bound to find out by the end of the day,” she cleared her throat once more, “I spoke with my parents yesterday and I came here to speak with yours today. They agreed with my outlook on the matter and our engagement has been suspended”. Robb felt all the oxygen in him get knocked out by the words she spoke. He tried to keep his composure, but his labored breathing was something he could not control. Anguished, he mumbled “You had no right. What about my say on the matter?”

His question made Y/N turn her head rapidly and gawk at him in shock. That shock then turned to anger with her own heartbreak mixed in. Jabbing a finger in his chest, she gritted her teeth and hissed, “You’re say on the matter?!” she sucked in a breath, “I did this for you. You! All you! A little thank you would be appreciated”. Grasping her hand in his, he held it tightly as he held her fury faze, “For me?! I never asked you to do this!”

Scoffing, she pulled her hand back and slightly pushed him, “Well, it sure felt like I had too! You hardly look at me anymore, hardly speak to me or spend time with me- “, her voice cracked immensely as Robb took notice of the tears forming in her eyes, “Was the thought of marrying me that torturous?”. Robb gaped at her in confusion and in sorrow, taking a step close to her and placing a hand upon her face, “What are you talking about? Spending my life with you could never be agonizing”. Shaking her head, she pushed him once again, “You don’t have to play me for a joke Robb. I know, okay. I know you don’t want to marry me, and I understand. I’m sorry that you were put into such a situation and as your friend, I could not bear to watch you suffer so I fixed the problem. What’s done is done”.

Robb started to shake his head, raising his hands up to calm the girl, “Y/N. Please. I think we need to talk clearly. You must know that I- “

“I’m being sent to the Riverlands”.

Silence had enveloped the two; the drop of a pin could be heard. Robbs’ labored breathing had returned and more intense now. “…What?” he questioned.

Y/N stood her ground, tears still staining her face, but no emotion now present upon it. She looked lifeless as she spoke her next words. “Since my engagement to you has ended, my parents have returned to their original plans when it came to my future husband. I am to wed one of Lord Frey’s sons”. Robb lost his senses and engulfed the girl in a tight hug, “No. No, you cannot” he begged, “I’ll talk with your parents. I-I’ll make things right”. This time, Y/N didn’t push him away immediately. She basked in his warmth and security. Slowly, she placed her hands upon his chest and made some distance between the two. Emotionless, she uttered, “I have to go”, now heading towards the end of the hallway. Grabbing ahold of her forearm, Robb begged once again, “Please, Y/N! We need to talk- “

Turning around, the crushed look she held upon her face was enough to silence Robb. Raising her shaking hands, she cried out, “Please Robb, please. Do not make this hard for me. If you have any respect for me as your friend, as a human, you will let me leave. I cannot do this right now. Please”. Hearing the desperation in her voice, Robb took a step back. Y/N gave him one last glance before taking her leave. Robb watched in silence as her figure got smaller and disappeared. It was then he noticed that he had been crying the whole time as well.

A week and a half had passed since the announcement made by House Stark and House Y/N of the annulment of their household union. Robb and Y/N were both depressed and a mess. Y/N would isolate herself in her room and would only come out when she needed to eat or bathe. She occasionally would still have to go to her septa lessons within the castle but would keep out of sight of her (ex) best friend. Robb, on the other hand, had increased his time practicing his swordsmanship and shooting. His family grew worried that he might over exhaust himself but did not know what other ways to help him. His temper and outbreaks of anger had increased vastly. So, to them; this was a great way for him to let out his frustrations and not upon them. Today, his rage was high as he had overheard his parents speak about Household Y/N beginning preparations to send Y/N away by the end of the week.

Y/N was equally displeased and terrified. She had tried her best to convince her parents not to go through with their plans (she even suggested devoting her life to the faith), but their minds were set. Rushing down the halls of Winterfell castle, she squeaked and hid behind a corner at the sound of someone’s voice. Peaking out her head, she let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Arrya Stark. Walking up the girl, she smiled and greeted her, which was returned back.

“I haven’t seen much of you lately. I’ve missed you”, Arrya spoke frowning.

Y/N winced but smiled weakly at the girl. Aside from Robb, Arrya was one of the Stark children she would spend a great deal of time with. Whether it was playing or practicing their archery together (Arrya giving her lessons instead of vice versa), they were friends as well. Patting Arrya’s head, Y/N shook her own, “I am truly sorry. I have just been…dealing with certain things. You are far too young to understand”. Arrya gave her a look of awareness, “I know about everything. Robb and you are no longer getting married, and you are going away. I think I can understand how difficult that ought to be”. Y/N gulped as the young girl continued “Robb is in shambles you know. Been a real ass to everyone lately”.

Lightly laughing, Y/N forced a smile upon her face at the mention of the man she holds deep affection for. “I’m sure he will be alright. Our friendship was something we both held dear, so it is very sad to see how much it has and will change”. Arrya shook her head vigorously, raising her eyebrows high.

“No. It’s because he loves you”.

Y/N stopped petting the girl and gave her a confused look. She then suddenly let out a loud chuckle. “I’m sure he cherishes me very much as a friend”.

Arrya continued shaking her head, trying to get the older girl to understand. “No! He does love you. Like loves LOVES you!”

Arrya wanted to bang her head against the wall at how dense Y/N was continuing to be. “This is what I mean by you being too young to understand. There is a difference between having love for a friend and having love for a lover. Robb only loves me as a friend”, Y/N returned to petting the girl.

Arrya moved away from her hand and let out a groan. “But I truly mean it. He is going crazy- “

“Would you like to go shooting with me?” Y/N interrupted the girl; choosing to ignore Arya’s previous comments of false impression. Arya was quick to change her expression of annoyance to excitement. Her mind threw out all thoughts about her older brother’s and friend’s problems and was replaced by the thoughts of one of her favorite activities. Readying herself to say yes, her smile dropped in remembrance. “I can’t,” she scowled, “I was on my way to see my mother. She’s making me take extra lessons to better my needle work”.

Y/N tsked her tongue at the statement. “That’s too bad. I really needed something to calm my thoughts”, staring down at the ground she raised her head up, “I guess I’ll just go alone”.

Arya’s eyes bulged out as she saw Y/N turn her back and walk away, “You can’t go alone. It’s dangerous!”. Y/N turned her head and waved her hand, “Don’t worry; I’ll be fine. It can’t be any more dangerous than me having to wed a Frey” she made a joke at her own troubles. “I’ll see you another day. Bye!”

Arrya waved her hand and returned her goodbye, along with a “Be safe!”. Once Y/N was out of sight, she sobbed in defeat and headed down the hall to her classes.

At the same moment, Robb stood in the castle yard working on his own shooting. He had been doing so for hours and his aim had gone from perfect to flawed as time passed by; his thoughts continuing to run wild. At this point, he wasn’t even trying as he let go his of bow and barely made the mark.

“You missed”. Turning towards his side, Jon and Theon stood there—having been watching the Stark heir for almost an hour. This was per the request of Eddard Stark who wanted to make sure his son didn’t go mad and accidentally harm himself. He chose to ignore them and picked up another arrow; preparing his stance, he let the bow go and watched as it missed the target. “Missed again”, both boys said in unison. Robb shrugged his shoulders and went to retrieve the arrows he had thrown, “Don’t care”.

Theon watched Robb return to his stance, deciding to speak his mind. “Have you spoken to the girl?”. Jon did not even bother to hush the Greyjoy boy as even he was readying himself to ask the same question. Robb chewed his inner cheek, trying his best to control his temper, “No, I have not. I haven’t seen her around the castle, and it will be inappropriate of me to go to her home”. Theon let out a low whistle and crossed his arms, “That’s shitty”. Robb inhaled deeply as the sound of the Greyjoy boy was getting on his nerves. Before he could speak, Robb was interrupted by a young female voice.

“She was here earlier”. The trio turned and saw the youngest Stark girl come out from the shadows. Jon laughed and pointed at the girl, “Aren’t you supposed to be taking your extra lessons?”. Arrya’s face flushed as she defended herself quickly, “I was let out early”. A clear lie coming out of her mouth. “Anyway, not that matters. Y/N was here earlier—I know that she’s been coming here a few days for her septa lessons”.

Theon let out a loud cackle as he turned to Robb, “Haven’t seen her around the castle? The girl is clearly ignoring you”. Jon slightly smacked the boy upside his head to which Robb nodded at him in thanks. He returned to shooting his arrows, listening in on the other three’s conversation but not joining. Part of him wanted to quickly distract himself from thinking about Y/N and how she was purposely trying to be out of his sight. In a sense, it was the price he had to pay for doing the same to her originally. Jon ruffled up his half-sister’s hair and questioned, “And did you speak to her?”. Arrya nodded, “Yeah. Said she missed me; I told her I missed her. Blah Blah Blah. Then she left to go practice her shooting”, she scanned over the boys and eagerly spoke, “Can I please practice with you guys?”.

Robb had stood still for a second, taking in her words before sharply turning his entire body. “What do you mean she left to practice? Alone? And in the woods?”.

Both Jon and Theon tensed up and frowned as they took in the younger Starks words, realizing the implications of what she said. Arrya nodded once again, setting her sites on Robbs bow, “Yeah, alone. And I assumed so if she’s not out here with you guys”, she scanned her surroundings, “Don’t worry. She said she’d be safe. Can I practice now?”.

Robb moved quickly, grabbing his sword, and brining his bow along with him. Placing his hand upon his half-brothers’ shoulder, he spoke sternly and swiftly to him and the Greyjoy boy, “Grab a weapon and grab your horses. Split up into the woods— whoever finds her first, make sure she’s not injured and bring her back safely. Do you understand?”. Both Jon and Theon nodded, taking in their orders and seeing how Robb displayed himself as man and a future Lord. He gave them a nod and wasted no time in hurrying to his horse.

In the midst of the woods, a gentle chill lingers in the air, a refreshing coolness that swirls among the trees. A carpet of fallen leaves crunches under the feet of Y/N as she strolls along. Her face had turned into a slight flush from the cold air and her own physical movements. She had been able to shoot a couple of arrows within the half-hour she had been there. She had no targets in mind; deciding to leave the critters of the forest at peace and chose to just aim randomly at certain tree’s. She stopped suddenly at the sound of movement coming from her side; the large bushes moving. Scrunching her face, she set her bow down and stayed low, still distancing herself slightly. Ever slowly, she extended her hand out and called out to what she assumed was a wild rabbit, “Pss pss pss. Come here little guy”. More movement continued to happen until it stopped and out from the shrub came a wild boar. Y/N’s smile dropped instantly, and her fight or flight senses kicked in; standing up from the ground immediately. The sudden movement made by her had alerted the boar; its eyes landing upon her.

Without warning, the creature charged.

With a surge of fear-fueled quickness, she dove to the side, narrowly evading the boar's razor-sharp tusks. Her bow still in her hand, Y/N was quick to shoot at the beast. From her angle on the ground, the boar was only grazed slightly on its back. Her eyes never leaving the beast as it whirled around, desperation was fueling her actions as she struggled to recover from her fall. Once again, she narrowly avoided the onslaught of the boar, lunging herself on the other side of the forest ground. One more time, she raised her bow and released; this time, the arrow impaling its backside. Y/N thought she was safe at last as the boar let out a pained squeal—but the animal was strong willed as it did not fall to the ground. Y/N actions only fueled the boar’s anger. Being caught off guard, she did not have the time to stand up again. The boar raced at her, and Y/N felt her heart drop; letting out a petrified scream as she was about to meet her fate.

That never came. To her own shock, another arrow came out of nowhere and pierced the animal. The impact diverted the boar’s trajectory, causing it steer away toward the left of Y/N; falling to the ground and succumbing to it’s injuries.

Y/N’s body trembled with the aftermath of the encounter, chest heaving with exertion and relief. Looking up, she saw her savior was Robb.

Robb, himself, was breathing heavily. He had almost witnessed the death of the woman he loves but came in time to save her. The two stared at each other for a few seconds before Robb got off his horse and ran to her. Engulfing her in a hug, still on the ground, he hushed the girl and caressed her hair as he let her sob into his chest. “Shh. You’re alright. You’re safe— I’ve got you”, he placed a kiss upon her temple. A minute or two passed before Y/N had started to settle down. Robb, taking notice, placed both hands upon her face, his eyes slightly watery, “What were you thinking?! You can’t come this deep into the forest—especially with such little defense. You could’ve gotten hurt!”. Y/N shook her head, not being allowed to speak as Robb continued, “If I was just a little bit late, I could’ve found you dead! Do you not see how much that would’ve scarred me for life?!” He finally let his tears drop.

Sobbing heavily, she apologized to her friend. “I’m sorry! I know. I know I shouldn’t have come out here alone, but I needed some time to myself. I have so much going on- “she gasped deeply “I do not want to leave for the Riverlands”. Robb looked over the girl, looking at all the bruises she had gained. “We need to get you to a maester. Come on, your parents must be worried sick about you”. He raised her up to her feet and was walking towards his horse, but Y/N did not budge from her position. Turning to face her, Robb sent her a puzzled look.

“Robb. I do not want to marry the Frey boy”.

Robb bit his lip, trying his best to suppress his own emotions and focus on his friend’s health first. “Y/N, we need to get you checked- “

“Why exactly was I a bad candidate for your future wife?”

Robb felt all the air leave him as he starred at her emotionless face. “What?” he questioned.

Y/N shook her head, continuing her maundering. “I have known you my entire life. I know your likes and dislikes. I’ve been there for your ups and downs. I share so many precious memories with you. I wish to know why you would want to settle your life with a random stranger instead of me” she said not caring how desperate and draft she sounded. “…Am I not pretty enough? Am I a terrible person to you? There were a couple times I thought you felt something for me-“

Robb interrupted her, taking a step to stand in front of her. “Hold on. I do not think such things about!”, he held her gaze, “You are the most beautiful woman I know. The word terrible can never been used in the same sentence as you”. Nodding his head, he finally confessed, “Yes. There were times I did feel something for you. I still do. That is why it would not be fair for me to marry you”.  Y/N scoffed as she took in his words, ever so confused, “What does that even mean?!”.

Robb took a step back, creating a bit of distance between the two. “I could not marry you knowing that it was against your will. My household name trapping you into saying yes. Just as you are now being forced to marry the Frey boy, you were being forced to marry me”. Y/N stared at him like he had grown a second head. She took a step forward, closing their gap once again. “Trapping? Forced?! I agreed to the union on my own accord and very happily I must say!”, she pointed a finger at him “All I ever wanted was to be with you”. Robb gaped at her; his eyes wide in disbelief. “You wanted to be with me...You wanted to marry me?”.

Nodding her head, she spoke sternly. “Yes”. Y/N’s facial expressions softed a bit, gulping air and preparing herself to speak. “…Did you not want to be with me?”.

Robb took her face into his hands, their foreheads connecting. “Yes! You’re all I have ever wanted. I have been in love with you almost my whole life”. Y/N could feel her own tears and see his as well. She smiled at Robb and spoke gently, “So have I”. The two stared at each other in awe before Y/N raised her fist and striked Robb’s chest. “Stupid! Stupid! You’re so stupid!”, she said knowing she was just as dense. “Dumb, stupid, foolish- “

Robb caught her wrist in his hands. The forest was alive, full of birds chirping and the wind rustling through the trees. But, to them, not a sound could be heard as they looked into each other eyes. Robb was the first to lean in, taking her lips in his. The kiss was slow and slightly inexperience at first. That was before Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and the two further deepened the kiss. It became very intimate and carnal instantly; deep love still hidden behind it. Y/N was the first to pull away, needing to catch her breath. Robb heaved heavily, his lips now a slight red and swollen. The two grinned at one another— Robb hand placed on her hip and the other on her cheek. “I love you”, he spoke honestly.

Y/N held back a chuckle, biting her lip as she stared lovestruck. “Now I really don’t want to marry the Frey son”.

Robb’s expression dropped, turning into a serious one as he stroked her cheek. “I’ll make things right. I will talk to the Freys, my parents— I will talk to yours. One on one. This time, I will ask for your hand without the meddling of my family”. Robb gulped, asking anxious, “…that is if you will have me”. Y/N nodded eagerly, smiling up at him, “If you’ll have me, then yes”.

“Always”.

With that, Y/N leaned in and closed the gap between their lips once more. They felt a warm, velvety feeling that flowed from their lips and sent waves of emotions coursing through their bodies. The kiss depended, a silent invitation for a more fervent connection. Robb had to decline that invitation. Pulling away, he was hit with the memory of what had just occurred a few moments ago. Looking down at Y/N, he took in all her bruises, scrapes, and dirt that covered her body.

“We still need to get you to a maester. Come on.”

Y/N groaned as Robb dragged her by the hand towards his horse, “I feel fine”. Shaking his head, Robb let out a chuckle, “We’re still in dangerous territory. Besides, that’s just all the adrenaline talking— it is bound to run out”.

Y/N gave him a mischievous smile, placing her hands on his chest and speaking quietly, “We can stay here. I can think of a few ways to keep my adrenaline pumping”. She leaned up to kiss him but was met with a flick on her forehead. “Ow”.

“Maybe another time”, he laughed, “Lets get going”. Placing her and himself upon his horse, he headed towards his home. Y/N turned her head, smiling up at him, “You looooooove me. That’s so gross”.

“Stop”.

Now aside from the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the trees, their laughter could be heard throughout the forest.

#robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark x you #robb stark x y/n #Robb stark imagine #robb stark oneshot #robb stark scenario #robb stark fanfic #game of thrones #got imagines #got x reader #got scenario #richard madden

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 3

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 11.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle* Disagreeing amongst partners, disappointments, unexpected turns, denial of feelings, unwanted revelations. Summary: It's Valentine's Day and no one's date seems to be going quite the way they expected. Notes: Apologies for the posting delay, my lovelies! Please enjoy 💖

Ch1 ~ Ch 2

When you still haven't heard from Marcus the next day, you're really pretending not to be bothered by it. You go about your work as usual, take care of your guests, manage a few nibbles of lunch, and work through the Valentine's check-ins with Malachi to make sure that everything goes smoothly. The whole day is chaotic and the inn is completely sold out, and yet you can't stop glancing down at your phone to see if you've gotten a text back.

You've just slipped into the kitchen after your shift to see Sydney after her spa-and-afternoon-tea date when the restaurant's hostess on duty comes in with a reservation slip to add to the board. The restaurant is basically fully booked now, with a few last minute cancellations and reservations working themselves out throughout the day, and a part of you wishes you could just stay here tonight and keep working, but you promised Sam. And you promised your mother's office that there would be social media updates tonight. This date might as well be public, so there is no backing out now.

“Hey babe!” Sydney grins as she looks up from the cake she is decorating, the piping bag in her hand full of dark chocolate buttercream. “Checking in before going to get ready?”

“Yup. Just came in to say hi and check the last minute reservations.” You take the slip from Sydney’s hostess with a flourish to tack it up on the board, and immediately make some sort of inhuman squawking noise that has your best friend whirling around in the kitchen.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She demands, rushing over to the board. From the noise you made, it’s either incredibly good or incredibly bad.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Not technically, anyway. But you hand over the slip with obvious discomfort — or maybe a tinge of something else deeper and darker — on your face. “It’s…I guess…Marcus has a date tonight.”

“What? Oh…” she takes the slip and reads it, frowning slightly as she looks up to see you fidgeting and looking away from the paper. “Well, um, I guess that means he will be here and it’s good that you are going out with Sam.”

The frown that has formed on your face cuts deep, and you put down the empty mug you had grabbed to pour yourself a late afternoon cup of coffee with a slam. “Of course it’s a good thing.” You state unequivocally, not wanting to deal with or admit to the burning feeling in your chest. “He’s my boyfriend. It’s a very good thing.”

Sydney doesn’t comment, just pins the reservation to the allotted slot: 7 pm for two. There’s a note on the reservation to have a bottle of champagne brought to the table with dessert, so she’s not sure what to make of that. It seems unlikely that he’s taking his mother or sister out for a romantic meal.

“I have to get changed.” Comes the unnecessary announcement as you pace a little square around the corner of the kitchen only to end up facing Sydney again. “I just wanted to say hi, and I hope you and Juan had a good day.” Before this…intrusion into your thoughts, you had wanted to know everything. Every single thing they ate at tea and did at the spa. Now you feel like throwing up from pure discomfort.

“We did.” It seems wrong to rub it in your face right now, since you seem to be having some sort of reaction to the idea that Marcus would book a date here. She has to wonder if there’s meaning behind it, or if he had just imagined bringing someone here because it was a wonderful little place. The dining room of the restaurant is intimate, perfect for romance, especially tonight with the lights lower and the decor that had been brought out for the holiday.

“Good. I—okay. I’m going to go up, then. Malachi has a full reservation book and there’s an extra bellhop on tonight for the full house.” Sweeping out of the room is probably an overstatement, but you certainly move fast enough that Agent Bailey has to hop to in order to keep up with you as you head for the back stairs. Suddenly you have all the nervous energy in the world to walk all the way up to your apartment instead of taking the elevator.

“Okay…bye.” Sydney calls out, eyes wide at the dramatic exit and she pulls out her phone to send a quick text to her husband.

You might have tried a little harder than was strictly necessary to look good tonight. Not because Marcus might see you — that doesn’t make any sense — but to try to shut up all the whirling thoughts in your head about your loyalties and your attachments. You’ve been with Sam for almost a full year. It’s eleven months next week. And he deserves your complete attention. So if he gets you in your best little black dress and the earrings he gave you for your last birthday? That’s good, too.

Sam is nothing if not punctual, actually showing up fifteen minutes before you needed to leave. One of his office aides had run out to get you some flowers, now in hand, and he smiles widely when he sees you. “Wow.” He hums, whistling appreciatively. “I feel underdressed.” He jokes, wearing a smart suit like he normally does.

“You haven’t been underdressed since the day you were born.” Sam is perpetually put together, so you have definitely stepped up your game from the jeans and cheeky blouses that would normally have been good date clothes in the past. “Hi honey.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He offers you the flowers with a smile. “You look incredible. These are only half as beautiful as you.”

“Thank you, honey.” The large bouquet is all red and pink buds, clearly done up for the holiday, and you let the day’s earlier tension roll off your shoulders as you inhale the sweet scent. “Let me put these in the vase in my office and we can get going?” Upstairs in your place they’re beautiful, but downstairs means anyone who sticks their head in your office will see them.

“Of course.” He nods and looks towards Agent Bailey. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Agent Bailey.” He tells her politely. “Would you mind following us to the restaurant tonight?”

“No surprise stops, Congressman?” Following behind isn’t unusual, but Bailey still had to do her job. Any unexpected additions to the night just complicate matters.

His smile tightens slightly. “Just the itinerary you have planned out.” He comments, slightly irked that he has to have plans approved through the Secret Service. It’s not exactly his idea of pleasant.

“Ready to go?” It only takes a moment to get your flowers in water, and you reach for Sam’s hand. After spending your time getting ready reminding yourself to focus on your relationship and stop being so wishy-washy, you’re trying to put your best everything forward for tonight.

“Absolutely.” Sam smiles broadly, his shoulders rolling back and he puffs his chest out proudly. “Let’s go get romantic.”

The restaurant that was picked out is small and welcoming, a  homespun but upscale bistro owned by a couple from New Orleans that moved up to Maryland sometime during the raising of their children. You had read the website while you were getting ready for tonight. The place boasts an impressive menu and a fan favorite étouffée, as well as an entire family working every aspect of the restaurant. From what you can tell, it looks like a perfect date spot. When you pull up it’s brimming over with people, too, which makes you even more excited. Busy means tasty, of course.

“Well this looks promising.” Sam comments, looking over at you. “What did you say the menu was?” He hadn’t really paid attention to where it was, just that you had said it was a good choice for a dinner out and photographs. You know how to work PR from your mother’s campaign, something he admires.

“New American through a New Orleans lens.” That’s what the website had said, and you could swear you already hear jazz pouring out the front door.

“Interesting.” He doesn’t particularly care for spicy foods, his stomach never agrees with it, but he trusts your judgement. “It’s perfect for the photographer and I’m assuming there’s some heartwarming backstory to the place?”

“Family owned and family run.” You can practically hear the silent commentary in his head, and you touch his arm as he holds the door for you. “I read the reviews in advance. Not everything is spicy. Don’t worry.”

“You know me too well.” He throws you a grateful look and leans forward to open the door for you to enter the bistro.

“Good evening.” The hostess at the front of the restaurant knows exactly who you are, just like everyone working tonight does. Just like their entire family does. Getting a visit from the Secret Service and having a discreetly placed photographer arrive just a little while ago gives the whole night an extra flare of the unbelievable. With two menus in her hand, she smiles a shaky, bright grin. “Please come right this way.”

Sam’s hand is on your back, knowing that a lot of eyes are turning from the staff to the patrons. It’s expected when your significant other is a recognizable face. He doesn’t miss that they put you and him at a table in the middle of the room.

There are small vases of red carnations on every table, and candles, and neat purple tablecloths that look like they have been given a little extra pressing for the occasion. You thank the girl politely and smile, not thrilled to have all eyes on you but already knowing that there is nothing you can do about it.

Sam is the one to pull out your chair and help you sit down before he pulls his own chair out. “Shall we order a bottle of wine?” He asks. “Or would that not look good?”

“How about a half bottle?” You suggest, showing him the part of drinks menu that lists half bottles. “Celebratory but responsible.”

“Perfect.” Same agrees, knowing. It wouldn’t be a positive image to have drinking and driving be recorded.

“Whatever you want to choose.” He’s pickier than you are in general, and definitely about wine, so it’s up to him.

He smiles at you in gratitude and immediately dives into the wine list to see what they have available.

“Oysters Rockefeller to start?” As a Maryland boy he loves seafood, and there’s some sort of odd determination in your mind to prove to yourself that your focus is entirely on Sam.

“Absolutely.” He agrees while wholeheartedly and when your server approaches, he finds in a polite smile to give them.

He orders the wine and your appetizer, and beams a smile at the flustered waitress before the two of you are left — sort of — alone again. Agent Bailey has gone to sit with the designated White House photographer at a separate, discreet table. It leaves the two of you to pretend that this is just as normal a date night as any other. “So,” you hum, looking over the menu. “How was work?”

“It was good.” He had kept his office hours short today, like most of the House, so he could get out on time. Plenty of other members had plans or just didn’t show up at all today. “Worked on the bill I want to introduce.”

“How close are you to having the draft done?” The House Judiciary Committee has been an important posting for him, and though you can’t claim to understand the nuance of every single detail of the bill he has been working on, you know that it is a big offering to make from such a new member of the committee.

“First draft is almost complete.” He tells you proudly. “Only a few more hours of work to be honest. My team has been working hard on it.”

“The first bill you’re sponsoring yourself is a big deal. I’m glad you’re proud of it.” Given how much of his work is paperwork and legal-ease, it’s good to have something tangible to work on and be proud of. Certainly not everyone who works in the government can say the same.

“Thank you.” He smiles, leaning back as the waiter comes back with the glasses of wine. “Hopefully it’s just the first of many.”

"I hope so, too." He has high hopes for his career, and you know he'll work hard for it. There's just the tiny voice in the back of your head reminding you that he might not value your success as highly that is bothering you. Still, you raise your glass to him and smile. "Happy Valentine's Day."

“Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.” Sam smiles and taps his glass to yours before taking a sip. “Have you given any thought to my proposal?”

“I thought we could talk about it tonight?” The mention of a proposal specifically makes you shiver in a way you didn’t know you could shiver, but here you are. “Starting with…the logistics of it all.”

He admires the practicality of your statement and nods. “What are your concerns?” He can hear that you have them and hopes that the two of you can come to some kind of agreement. He’s negotiated a lot in his position and knows there is always give and take for things to work.

“I…” He’s practical. Pragmatic. And you know that. It’s something that you have always said you liked about him because it balances against your tendency to dream. “I want to move forward. Take another step.” In your impulse, you reach across the table and take his hand. “But I’m not sure I’m ready yet. So I’d like to do it slowly.”

“Maybe a drawer for when you stay over?” He offers, lifting a brow. “Space for a toothbrush?”

“That’s kind of what I was thinking, yeah.” A relieved smile spreads, glad to see that he isn’t upset at your still moving slowly in this relationship. Moving too fast in the past is what you blame some very serious relationship failures on. “Maybe try to see each other more than just once a week? Work permitting, of course. I know we’re both busy.”

“That was kind of the point of moving in together.” Sam reminds you, although he’s not put out by it. “Maybe we can, but you will have to spend less time at the inn.” He hums. “You are always there. You even live there.”

"I know." That's on you, and you know it. But you still shift in your seat like you've been called to the principle's office. "I have to cut back on late nights. Malachi is more than capable of running the place any time of day and the new night manager is doing really well."

Sam nods, it’s a conversation that he’s had with you several times but nothing has changed so far. “I understand being passionate about your work.” He reminds you with a smile, reaching for your hand. “But I also want you to be passionate about other things too.” He squeezes your fingers. “Maybe kids, one day?”

"You know I want kids." That is never something that you have hemmed or hawed about. Wanting a marriage and a family is something you were pretty up front about. "Kids, a dog, the whole white picket fence thing."

“I know.” It’s a good thing too, because he wants the same thing. Although he knows that can’t really happen if you are running yourself ragged at the inn. “Just wanted to make sure that was still the case.” He jokes.

"It is." Your fingers squeeze his gently. "I haven't changed my mind about what I want."

“That’s good.” Sam smiles and feels a little better about the fact you aren’t jumping at the chance to move in with him. He had expected less resistance if he was honest with himself.

"So the next time I come over I'll bring some things to keep at your place?" A little bag of work clothes and duplicate toiletries at his house sounds positively quaint, but very sweet.

“If that’s what you want.” He agrees, leaning back again when the waiter comes with the appetizer. “Are you still planning on staying tonight?”

You pause long enough to thank the waiter and for both of you to order your entrees and have a sip of your wine after the waiter goes again. "Of course I was planning on it. It's what we talked about. But...I felt like packing a bag to bring over tonight felt a little...presumptuous? I didn't want to jinx it."

“Nothing presumptuous about it.” Sam disagrees with a smile, knowing he would have loved if you had started bringing things over. “But we will do things on your schedule, as long as our end goal is the same.”

End goal. That part still bags at you a little and you still aren’t sure if you’re overreacting. Marcus seemed to agree with us, and so did Sydney…and it’s making you wonder. But will it ruin the night to make a fuss over it? There’s really no way to tell. “I want to make sure we’re on the same page about all of it.” You decide, making sure there is no worry or waver in your voice as you reach for an oyster. It’s just a conversation. Just a conversation with your boyfriend. No big deal. Just clearing the air.

“Good.” There’s a moment’s pause where the two of you start to split the appetizer, each of you tasting it and Sam hums in approval. “I say we live together for at least a year.” He looks up at you. “What do you think?”

“At least a year before what?” The clarification seems important, since the two of you seem to have slightly different expectations. It’s slight, but it’s there.

Sam chuckles slightly. “Before the next step?” He asks playfully, shrugging slightly.

“That makes sense.” But not knowing exactly what he meant makes you feel a little foolish, so you huff a laugh and have another sip of wine. “Of course. That makes perfect sense.”

“You seem off tonight.” Sam tilts his head curiously. “Fight with Sydney? Never thought I would see that.”

“No, god no, nothing like that.” A fight with Sydney is about the farthest thing from the truth. The trouble is…you can’t really tell Sam the truth. It would be a ticking time bomb in the middle of your relationship. To not only think that you might have met your soulmate but to suddenly find yourself caring immensely about what that could mean? Hell, even being attracted to him? It would be a disaster. And you can’t blame him because you would feel exactly the same way if Sam came to you after meeting the girl that the universe says is his perfect match. Instead? All you can really do is make an excuse. “I haven’t really been feeling myself for the past few days.” That is very much true. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let it affect tonight.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Sam’s brows pull down. “Do we need to ask them to box up our meals? The photographer can take their photos now and we can go home if you aren’t up for a night out.” Despite his own views of how the night would go, he would never drag you around if you’d rather be in bed sleeping.

It’s sweet of him to offer, but you know he would be disappointed. And, unfortunately, no amount of sleep is going to pull you out of the Marcus-shaped funk you have found yourself in. No, sleep won’t help. And tonight is supposed to be about you and Sam, so it’s going to be. “That’s okay,” you assure him, shaking your head and promising yourself that the smile on your face won’t falter again tonight. “I’d rather spend tonight celebrating with you.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” He’s giving you a doubtful look, but he doesn’t call the waiter over. “Maybe it’s just that you need a night away.” He suggests. “I have a late morning scheduled so we can sleep in.”

“Unfortunately, I have an early morning.” You bite your lip, knowing he’ll hate that. “We have a big event tomorrow night and they’re showing up early in the day. Early bird check in, venue set up, all of it.”

Sam is quiet for a minute and then looks down at his plate again. “Well, I guess that can’t be helped.”

"It's all hands on deck right away." And suddenly you feel horribly guilty about it, even though it's your job. It's something you do out of love and a deep passion for the industry that you've chosen to work in. But a morning of just sleeping in sounds so nice.

“You don’t need to explain.” It’s not like you would change your plans anyway, but it definitely sours the idea he had for the next morning. “You have priorities.”

“Yes, I do. Just like you would if you had a day full of meetings to handle.” He sounds cold, and it bothers you so much more than you would have thought. Like you’d had disappointed your parents with a bad grade on your report card instead of telling your partner than you’re anticipating a demanding work day. “I would support you if that was the case, so I don’t understand why you seem so upset with me.”

“Because we had talked about it.” Sam reminds you. “Two days ago.” He clenches his jaw and takes a breath before releasing it. “You’re right, you have work and it’s important.” He agrees. “Forget I said anything.”

“We did talk about it two days ago. And we talked about me staying over, but not about doing anything the next day. Because I told you weeks ago when this group booked their party that it was going to be a big deal.” Barely managing not to drop your fork in the table, your eyes drop to your lap and you can feel the pressure of disappointment driving at the backs of your eyes like fire and you have to take a deep breath to steady yourself. “I feel like we haven’t been communicating as well as we used to.”

“After we talked about you staying over, I asked if you wanted to have a lazy morning and you said ‘sounds good’.” Sam realizes you had told him about the booking. “We got our signals crossed. It happens. We will need to work on it.”

“Yeah.” You nod, quietly sitting back in your chair again while being very aware of the pairs of eyes that have all turned to witness the First Daughter argue with her boyfriend over their romantic Valentine’s dinner. Fuck. Mom’s going to kill me. “Yeah,” you agree with a vague nod of your head. “We’re just a little off. We’ll work on it.”

“It’s okay.” Sam promises with a smile, reaching out and taking your hand again. He doesn’t want you to be photographed looking unhappy, because then rumors would fly. Public figures aren’t allowed to have bad moments. “We will make the best of tonight.” He tells you. “Or…we can go back to your apartment if you’d prefer?” He offers. “That way you can sleep a little longer?”

"You normally hate staying at my apartment." The water pressure is better at his house, you'll give him that. And the bed is bigger. But the breakfast at your place is far superior every single time.

“I know, but I also know that you have an early morning and I would like to compromise.” He offers.

His hand fits around yours, anchoring you to the table and to him, and you remind yourself to breath. A miscommunication isn't an argument. And even if it is, an argument isn't the end of the world. "I would really like that," you agree, squeezing his hand just a touch. Trying to show him silently how much you appreciate that he's willing to bend a little for you. It has never bothered you that you go to him — stay at his place, attend his work and social events, usually let him pick restaurants for dates as well. But it's nice to feel a little give in your direction as well.

“Alright, then it’s settled.” He nods quickly and smiles at you. “We will have to swing by my house to pick up a change of clothes though.”

"We can do that." You'll tell Agent Bailey after dinner, and the message will get relayed. It will all be fine. Whatever is causing this gap between you and Sam, you'll figure it out. Starting with a little bit of compromise. "And tonight we'll clean out a drawer for you at my place. We'll each have a drawer."

It’s on the tip if his tongue to refuse, to remind you he doesn’t like staying at your place. It’s too busy and he likes privacy in his home, not people coming and going at all times. “It’s a plan.” He decides to say instead, happy that the meal is coming out.

The restaurant is busy tonight, full up with reservations for dates and girls’ nights out. Tables are packed full and the kitchen is bustling, but Malachi sits calmly at the reception desk making sure that all of the inn’s reservations for the night are being taken care of to the best of his ability. The less you have to worry about tomorrow with that incoming party, the better.

Marcus smiles as he walks up to the desk, guiding Vanessa up with a warm hand on her lower back. He hadn’t wanted to be alone, especially on Valentine’s Day, so he had once again tried one of the dating apps. Tinder Without Marks was kind of the opposite of Mate Marks and he appreciated that. There wasn’t any emphasis on tattoos or scars, just on personalities. He had been talking to Vanessa since you had bailed on his offer of dinner and tonight was the first date. “Reservation for Pike.” He greets Malachi warmly.

"Special Agent Pike!" Malachi was not going to forget that face or those shoulders anytime soon, and he smiles genuinely for what seems like the first time all night. Holidays are always a lot of extra running around. "Reservation for the restaurant tonight?" He would have noticed the name if the FBI agent had reserved a room at the inn. He definitely would have noticed that.

“Yes.” Marcus nods and smiles. “How are you Malachi?” He remembers the concierge’s name and greets him like a friend. “I knew that coming here would be a fantastic treat.”

“And…Miss D’Amario.” When the concierge’s eyes light on the woman beside Special Agent Pike, he nearly bursts out laughing. This is going to be the biggest gossip amongst the staff. Multiple staffs. “Does chef know to expect you? Or should I let her know?”

Marcus tilts his head and looks at Vanessa. “I didn’t realize you’ve been here before.” He had told her where he had made reservations, but she hadn’t said. “Do you come often?”

“Once or twice.” She admits with a sheepish smile as Malachi comes out from behind the desk to escort them into the restaurant. “Usually just to run errands. My boss…he comes here a lot.”

“Interesting coincidence.” Marcus muses as the two of them follow Malachi. “You never actually said who you worked for.” He reminds her.

She hadn’t. That’s true. Because on a dating website all kinds of information can get taken out of context or photoshopped into other things. All she had said before now is that she works on Capitol Hill. “Congressman Chase.” She tells her date, a little more secure in handing this information over after having looked into him and agreeing to this dinner. A girl can never be too careful, after all. “I’m the senior aide in his office.”

To his credit, Marcus doesn’t freeze, although his eyes blow wide. He can hear Malachi snicker quietly, although the agent isn’t sure why. Even though he doesn’t have anything against the congressman, the knowledge that she is his senior aide dulls the excitement of the date almost immediately. “I met him just the other day.” Marcus admits. “My friend and former colleague is the event planner here.”

“You know Juan?” Vanessa seems to ease immediately, the tension of meeting a stranger off the Internet soothing with the knowledge that Juan Badillo is an excellent judge of character. “Okay. So you know who owns the inn, then. And why I’m running errands here fairly often.” She smiles when Marcus pulls out her chair for her and thanks him before sitting. “I’ve always wanted to try the restaurant but never have a chance.”

Marcus smiles and nods, even though he’s not exactly sure how this dynamic would work. “Then it’s a good thing I got reservations here.” He tells her and picks up the menu. “Do you want some wine? I think I would like some.”

“That sounds great.” She nods happily, not catching the change in his demeanor even in the last few seconds.

He’s still not going to be rude. Vanessa is a lovely woman, and he shouldn’t feel guilty for being here on a date with her. Not even if you know her and she works for your boyfriend. “Are you a red, white or rosé kind of woman?” He asks, scanning the selections and looking back up at her.

“Usually white. But if you like red I’m happy to try something new.” Vanessa is happy to let Marcus take the lead, not feeling strong enough one way or the other to have a preference.

“There’s a wonderful Prosecco on the menu.” Marcus offers, lifting his brows. “It’s Valentine’s Day after all, and we aren’t alone. We should celebrate.”

"Perfect." Her smile spreads again and she sits back, looking over the menu and regarding the man across from her. "So what department of the FBI are you in? We haven't really talked about work yet."

“Art Crimes.” He supplies wondering where you and Sam are. A discreet glance around the restaurant was a relief and a disappointment not to come up with you. “I’m actually the head of the department.”

"So...is that forgeries and thieves? Like in caper movies?" Vanessa sounds suitably impressed even though it isn't the part of FBI work that gets glorified on tv or in movies. "I didn't know that was a whole department on its own. You must have a lot of responsibility."

“It’s a lot of paperwork.” Marcus admits. “Although I’m sure you have plenty yourself.” He chuckles. “I wish that it was like the movies, or that show White Collar that was on a few years ago. I could use a Neal Caffery sometimes.”

"Oh, I don't think I've ever seen it. I guess I have a little homework to do." On whatever the show is, plus on art as a whole. Art class or art history...museums in general aren't really Vanessa's thing. It just never seemed very practical. "Paperwork is okay when there's a rhythm to it. Sometimes I even turn on music quietly in the office while I'm copying and filing. It's really helpful even though it's kind of a no-no."

“Why would that be a no-no?” He wonders if Sam is a stick in the mud. “Most of the time, I encourage my team to listen to music, it helps engage your mind.”

"We try not to have anything on in the office that could interfere with being understood on the phone," she explains, like it's some kind of party line or sage advice that has been handed down to her. "Staying on message is important. And it's hard to stay on message if you can't be heard."

“And what’s your message?” He asks, finding it slightly intense, but he’s not the politician.

"Right now, our message is about serving our community. Working to bring business into our district without threatening existing small businesses, and making sure that we take safety standards into account." Obviously very proud of her work, Vanessa sits up straight in her chair and folds her hands in her lap with the air of someone being interviewed. "The Congressman is paving his own path and we're all on board for the ride."

“I see.” He can approve of such a message, admire it even. The congressman is obviously working for the best of his district and there is something noble about that. “That’s a good message to have.”

“It really is.” When Vanessa nods, it’s eager. “He’s on the fast track to the White House. It’s a privilege to get to work for him now.”

“A fast track, you say?” Marcus works so hard to keep from frowning, not liking the way that it makes it seem as if you are a steppingstone for Sam. Even though that shouldn’t bother him as much as it does.

“Absolutely.” She pauses long enough for the waiter to return for their drink order and explain the beautiful Valentine’s prix fixe menu before leaving them be again for a few minutes. “Congressman Chase has seven more years to be the youngest president ever elected, and he can do it.”

“That’s a lofty ambition.” Marcus agrees, wondering how much of dating the current president’s daughter is included in those plans for the White House.

“It’s going to be great.” She laughs, not the least self-conscious, but shrugs her shoulders. “I like my job a lot. Sorry if I get carried away a little.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Marcus waves that away, although he’s sure he sees hero worship in Vanessa’s eyes, and perhaps a crush on her boss. Nothing wrong with that unless they are being inappropriate and he can’t see the congressman doing that with his ambitions. Some congressmen, sure, but not Sam. “I wish a lot more people enjoyed their jobs like that.”

“It makes hard work worth it,” she agrees, though she does demure and tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “You…must love art? To be so involved with those crimes specifically?”

“I have come to really appreciate it.” Marcus tells her. “I never really stopped to look and think about much art before, but some weekends, I enjoy going through the museums for pleasure and not trying to research a piece.”

"DC is a very good place if you like museums." Even if she's not very big on them herself, she knows that to be absolutely true. It's where she ends up bringing family whenever they visit, so she has seen quite a few of the Smithsonian museums by now. She'd just rather be at a game.

“They are nice. Especially if a game gets rained out.” Marcus agrees, leaning back when the waiter comes back with the first course. “Thank you.” He hums and looks up at Vanessa. “This looks amazing.”

“It really does.” Vanessa looks as delighted as Marcus does and she offers him a sincere smile. “I’m very glad you decided to ask me out tonight.”

“I am too.” He smiles at her even if he feels guilty that he’s not as glad has he had been before he realized the connection to Sam Chase and therefore….you. He picks up his Prosecco and holds it up. “To positive first dates.”

“Absolutely.” Their glasses make lovely clink as they tap together and Vanessa smiles again, very glad that she decided to take this step to try to get over the crush she has on her boss.

“Looks like the inn is fairly packed tonight.” Sam hums as he pulls into the employee only portion of the oyster shell parking lot. He’s not upset for you business-wise, but he wished there weren’t so many people there.

“The night manager had the idea to keep our sitting room open for some live music, and it seems like people have stayed. It must have been a success.” The rooms aren’t sold out tonight because there are early check-ins for that party in the morning, but managing to keep people in house and engaged is a huge deal.

“Interesting concept.” Sam’s not really sure if that would attract the kind of clientele that you want here, but he’s a politician, not an inn owner. “Hopefully not too late?” He asks, wondering if it will be noisy into the late night. That’s not romantic.

“It should be over soon,” you promise him, seeing that your watch reads almost eleven o’clock.

“Good.” Once out of the car, he rushes around the hood and wraps his arm around your waist. “I don’t want them to interrupt our plans for tonight.”

“Nothing’s going to interrupt us.” Heading for the back door, you can pop right into the elevator to head upstairs without having to interrupt anything that’s going on or get sidetracked by Malachi. You just want to take a peak into the sitting room but that’s all. “And you can sleep in, in the morning after I’ve tired you out.”

"Is that a promise?" Sam asks playfully, allowing you to lead him away from the elevator and down the hall.

"Absolutely." The rest of the date had smoothed out, being a relatively quiet and pleasant night Now that you're back at the inn with a bag of Sam's things to stash away in your bureau, you're feeling a little bit flirtier and more upbeat. "And when you come downstairs after you finally drag that excellent butt out of bed, I'll have Syd make you some breakfast."

“I do love her breakfasts.” Sam groans, smirking at you playfully. “So you are planning on wearing me out completely?” He squeezes your waist and looks ahead towards the music.

"I'd say you deserve a night of intensely deep sleep, and I intend to make sure you get it." There is a little line waiting for the elevator as guests start to go up to their rooms for the night, so you hang back with Sam and look toward the sitting room instead. The music coming through is atmospheric and sweet and you are right about to lean your head on Sam's chest while you wait — when you spot someone unexpected in the sitting room.

Marcus had decided that just because Vanessa works for Sam doesn’t mean that he can’t have a nice night with her. The music had sounded lovely floating from the sitting room and he had asked if she wanted to stay. Now, they are dancing and he hasn’t thought about you in at least five minutes.

It's not exactly a gasp, but you end up trying to swallow whatever noise of surprise you were going to make when you spotted Marcus with his date in the the other room — and instead of keeping your reaction to yourself you end up choking on your own damn spit and coughing hard enough to worry Sam.

“Are you alright?” Sam pats your back and leans in with a worried look on his face while you wave him away. “What’s—” he glances around the room and immediately stiffens. “What is he doing with Vanessa?” He asks, his voice bristled with a slight anger he can’t shake.

"Vanessa?" You hadn't even seen who he was with, just choked at the sight of Marcus enjoying a quiet, romantic moment with another woman — something which you know shouldn't bother you but it had been a whole five minutes since the last time you thought about him so apparently that is your maximum. "Like your aide Vanessa?"

“How does he know her?” Sam ignores the question, staring holes into the FBI agent that is currently slow dancing with said aide and making her beam up at him in a way that has Sam wanting to drag her away from him.

"I don't know." He's practically fuming, and your forehead furrows as you turn your eyes back from the couple in the other room to Sam beside you. "Why does it matter?"

“I find it funny—” his tone definitely says otherwise, “that this man just magically shows up, gets invited to a game night and is now cozying up to my top aide.” Sam knows that he’s already been tagged by the DNC as a rising star, his own seat on the council is indicative of that, and now there’s this FBI that is showing up everywhere.

"He's friends with Juan." The defense in your voice is impossible to miss, and you cross your arms defiantly over your chest like you're waiting for him to pick a fight. "Maybe they were introduced by a mutual friend? Met in a coffee shop? Found each other on a dating app? Who knows?"

“And they just happened to book your inn as a date?” He scoffs slightly, unable to believe that fanciful tale and narrows his eyes as Marcus twirls Vanessa around and pulls her back against him.

"Why don't you go interrupt them and find out if you're so curious?" This has taken a very deep turn for the worse, and you can only be glad that the last guests waiting for the elevator near you have gone up so you're more or less alone now. Of course Agent Bailey is nearby, but she never comments.

“No.” He wants to. That’s the problem, and he knows it’s not a good move. Frowning, he turns away from the dancing couple. “Let’s go upstairs. The music is horrible.”

It's not. At all. But this isn't about the music and both of you know that silently even if it isn't said out loud. Sam jams his thumb in the 'Up' button for the elevator again but you say nothing, glancing back at the sitting room one more time to wonder if Sam is upset about the date that is happening for the same reason you are. And if he is...what does that mean for the two of you?

Once upstairs, Sam steps out of the elevator and sighs. “Can we just have the apartment to ourselves?” He directs his question to Agent Bailey, not looking at you.

There are certain protocols that have to be upheld, and Agent Bailey looks to you before starting them. “Ma’am?”

In your mind it’s awfully rude, knowing that asking her to sit in the hallway means hours and hours of uncomfortable sitting, but you also know that Sam is…in less than a good mood right now. And while you’re cranky too, you would rather try to smooth things over if you can. “If…you wouldn’t mind?”

“Please stay here.” Bailey directs you both. She’ll do a sweep of the apartment to make sure no one is waiting for you, and then she’ll take a chair into the hallway. She won’t say so, but she doesn’t mind not hearing a fight if it happens. Or the makeup sex. Neither one is her favorite.

Once you two are alone, Sam sets his bag down, aware that the mood of the evening is ruined and it’s his fault. “Do you want me to leave?” He asks, not even sure if he wants to stay at this point. Especially if Vanessa and that agent will also be spending the night under this roof. He’s not happy to see his best aide here, and usually he’s always happy to see her.

“Can you explain to me why you’re so upset?” It’s definitely uncomfortable, this tension that hangs in the air now, and you try not to let your eyes drop to the right before going back to him. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just surprised. He’s the one who got mad.

“It’s— I’m not—” There’s not a rational reason why he’s upset, and logically he knows this. “I don’t like the fact this man seems to be everywhere.” You had told him about meeting Marcus at the market and it seems as if he’s suddenly everywhere when a few weeks ago, no one knew this man was even in the area. “Strange in my eyes.”

“It’s just a coincidence.” That’s what you’ve told yourself, anyway. It has nothing at all — nothing whatsoever — to do with the universe putting you into situations where you’ll bump into each other. Not at all. “The Secret Service did a background check on him. He’s totally clear.”

“Then I guess I’m just overreacting.” Sam sighs and wipes a hand down his face. “I should go.” He knows that if he stays, the night won’t proceed like it was planned and he’s better off going home. You don’t seem too happy with him. “Unless you want me to stay?”

What you want, and what you should do, and what seems like the healthiest decision for your mental health all are different things. You should tell him to stay, brush it off, and try to salvage the evening. You want to go downstairs and interrupt that damn date to find out if Marcus Pike is as good a dancer as he seemed to be in the small space of the sitting room. But what’s best for your mental health? Is probably neither of those things. “Maybe I can come over this weekend and we can try to have a less stressful night at your place instead?”

Sam is silent for a moment and then nods. Understanding that something has fundamentally shifted in your relationship and trying to figure out what that might mean for the future. “Sounds good.” He agrees and looks at his bag before picking it up. “I’m sorry about how the night ended.”

“So am I.” The air between you feels different. Colder or heavier or just more tense, but you won’t back down just for the comfort of having him next to you in bed tonight. That isn’t fair to either of you.

Instead of a romantic kiss, Sam leans in and presses his lips to your cheek. “I’ll text you when I get home.” He promises, stepping back and frowning slightly before nodding. He had honestly expected you to change your mind, but he won’t beg to stay, knowing it’s not the best idea.

“Get home safe.” A long moment passes with thick air hanging between you before Sam nods again and opens the door, stepping out of your apartment and back in to the elevator. “It’s just us tonight,” you tell Agent Bailey, who comes back into the room the moment she hears the door. “The Congressman has gone home for the night.” And of referring to him by his title instead of his name isn’t a big fucking clue to you right then and there, it should be.

It’s not surprising, given the way the evening has turned sour, but it’s not her place to say anything. “Very well.” She nods. “If you need anything, let me know.” She intends to stay outside and let you sulk if you need to. She hadn’t missed ’the Congressman’ title instead of Sam.

“You can stay inside.” Banishing your Secret Service detail to the hallway is one more thing that rubbed you the wrong way. “I’m just going to go to bed. But the coffee you like…the vanilla caramel one? It in the cupboard above the coffee maker. Any time you want to make some.”

“Thank you.” The couch you don’t mind her sitting on is a lot more comfortable than the chair in hallway and she appreciates that you don’t mind her using the bathroom either. “Is there anything you need before you go to bed?”

“No.” You’re too afraid to ask if you did wrong by letting Sam go home, so you don’t even consider it. “Tomorrow’s an early morning. Agent Sisson coming to relieve you early?”

“Five.” She nods. “If you need to be up earlier, I will be here.”

"I won't be up until after that." Unless you can't sleep, which is a serious possibility considering how poorly the night went and how half of your thoughts are currently downstairs in the sitting room. "So I'll see you tomorrow, Agent Bailey."

“Goodnight, ma’am.” It’s best to keep things formal, although she feels bad that your evening did not end up like it was supposed to. And incredibly interested in the reaction of the congressman to Marcus Pike’s presence.

"Good night." Going to your room alone isn't what you wanted for tonight, but it feels like it's for the best. All you can do now is hope that you sleep.

The next morning is a flurry of activity, but Sydney notices that you aren’t rushing in from the parking lot when you come into the kitchen, looking like you didn’t get much sleep last night. “Good morning sunshine.” She teases, reaching for the coffee pot to pour you a cup.

Teasing barely earns her a grumble in return, but you gratefully accept the cup of coffee she pours you and turn to doctor it immediately. “That early check-in group should be here in a half hour.”

“I already have a breakfast spread ready for them.” She motions to the counter and the baskets she has already started filling with baked goods. The bowl of fresh fruit is inside a hollowed-out watermelon. “I couldn’t sleep.” She explains. “Indigestion.”

“There’s a joke in there about swallowing too much cum, but I’m too tired to make it.” You huff though, trying for a smile for your best friend. “It looks great, Syd. Thank you for working so hard.”

She sees through you instantly and frowns, moving around the counter and wiping her hands on the ever present rag tucked into the pocket of her chef’s jacket. “What’s wrong?” She asks, feeling your forehead and looking like an over anxious mother hen worrying over her baby. “Are you not feeling good? Juan, Malachi and I can handle this if you need us to.”

“Not a chance.” Considering you never take sick days even when you’re actually sick, there is no way you would make your team handle a big event without you. “It’s nothing. I just…had a bad night. That’s all.”

“Everything alright?” She frowns, tutting at your stubbornness and moving over to the espresso machine to give you a shot to help boost you up.

“Sam and I had a little…series of tiffs,” you admit with a sigh. There is a pan of her fresh baked broscia nearby and the Sicilian brioche-style bread is calming to you to be crammed full with jam and butter so you grab one still warm. “We got into it at the restaurant over me having to be at work early today and then again later when he flipped out about Marcus being here on his date.”

“Marcus?” Her head whips around and she gives you an utterly confused look. “One, why was he here? Two, why was Sam upset about that?”

“He must have stayed after dinner. For the musician that Malachi brought in.” Sam had been cranky about it, but you thought the singer at the piano had been lovely. “He…uh…Marcus, that is…did you see who his date was? When they came in for dinner last night?”

“I didn’t see, it was crazy in the kitchen, but Malachi told me that it was Vanessa.” She huffs. “How the hell do they know each other?”

“I don’t know. But the same question made Sam so upset that he ended up leaving my apartment last night instead of staying over.” The best you can do is shrug your shoulders. Because as much as it bothers you? You know why it does. There’s no mystery there, only guilt. “He thinks there’s something suspicious about Marcus, apparently.”

“Something suspicious about Marcus Pike?” She chokes out, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it. “The FBI agent? The man who was an Eagle Scout?” She and Juan had pulled that nugget of information out of him at game night.

“Because apparently, he’s ‘suddenly everywhere’ when none of us had seen him before.” Jam and butter join your bread roll and you sigh a little at the comfort of it. “I think it’s just confirmation bias. Like we probably were in the same places as him before, we just didn’t know to look for him.”

“Well…Juan would have recognized him.” Syd reminds you. “So that’s not exactly true, but I understand what you mean.” She sighs and hesitates for a moment. “Do you think it’s him or because he was with Vanessa?” She knows the other woman has a crush on Sam, it’s obvious from the hero worship stars in her eyes when she’s around. She knows Sam isn’t the type to cheat, but maybe there’s some feelings there that are repressed.

“I feel like that didn’t help.” Coffee and a little breakfast is helping. You can think a little straighter even if you don’t like the thoughts. “I know Vanessa has a thing for him. It’s not subtle. But before now I didn’t think there was cause for concern the other way.”

“It could be that Sam thinks that Vanessa could give away information that he could use if Marcus wanted to cause problems between you and Sam.” She rationalizes. “Slightly conspiracy theorist in my mind, but I could see how it could be construed.” Sydney enjoys playing Devil’s advocate, even if she likes Marcus and doesn’t think he is angling for anything.

“Before last week, I didn’t think there were problems between me and Sam.” It’s disconcerting to realize, as you stand here and talk through it with your best friend, that your relationship has not been as steady as you once thought. “Now? I don’t know.”

“Other than his overreaction, what makes you think that?” She asks, aware that you’ve been a little edgy lately but every relationship has ups and downs at times.

“He seems…really agitated lately. Much more upset than usual about having an agent around. Last night he wanted Agent Bailey to sit out in the hall while we slept, how does that make sense? And making comments about the future of our relationship to other people?” To Vanessa’s parents, now that you think about it. It sometimes slips your mind that his most trustworthy aide is also the only daughter of one of his largest donors. “Everything just feels on edge.”

“Have you talked about all this? Like really sat down and talked?” She frowns, not liking what she is hearing, although it could just be a case of miscommunication.

“Before now there hasn’t really been a reason.” Or at least, there hasn’t been such an obvious compilation of reasons. “And considering he never texted me back when he got home last night, now I’m wondering if he’ll be willing to sit down and hash things out.”

“I’m sorry.” She slides the shot of espresso over and reaches for your hand. “I like Sam, but if it doesn’t work out, it’s better to find out now, than down the road.”

“With the whole soulmate thing and now this kind of…weird accumulation of things?” You shake your head and just sort of shrug awkwardly. “I feel discouraged in a way that I really wasn’t expecting.”

“I’m sorry.” Immediately feeling guilty, Sydney’s shoulders drop and she bites her lip. “I shouldn’t have teased you about finding out what kind of hummingbird tattoo he has.” She hadn’t expected it to cause so many problems, or for you to be so resistant to it. Before Sam, you would have demanded to see the tattoo right away just to disprove the soulmate theory. “What can I do to help you?”

“Honey, you’re growing a literal human. You have enough to deal with.” It’s disheartening, and confusing, and frankly you’re shocked that you’re so willing to throw up your hands. That’s not like you at all.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t and won’t be there for my best friend.” She argues, frowning at you. “Your shit is my shit, remember? I’ll be expecting you to do a rotation getting up with the baby.” She jokes, wanting you to laugh a little.

"If we still lived together, I absolutely would." Being in this apartment upstairs is actually the first time you've ever lived alone — taking over the role of caretaker for the inn when Sydney moved out of the apartment you had been renting in Old Town to buy a house with her soulmate. "At this point I feel like I'm between a rock and a hard place...and one of those blockages is purely made up of how confused I am over...just feeling like I want to throw in the towel instead of working things out. That's not who I am. Or not who I have been."

“Honey, sometimes you just…don’t want to work things out. That doesn’t make you a failure.” She hums. “You might just realize that you have different goals.”

"But why do I feel that way?" There's only a few bites of your bun left and you know that today is going to be a peckish day. You tend to nibble when you're worried. "Is it just because I'm having doubts? And why am I even having doubts? It's...soulmates never mattered to me before this."

“Maybe it’s because of the man and not the soulmate aspect?” She probes gently. “Let me ask you this….if you weren’t in a relationship with Sam, would you be interested in Marcus. Even without the soulmate possibility?”

"I—" It feels dirty. A kind of guilt you really don't like and makes your skin crawl. But this isn't a situation you're going to lie about. Not when you're literally asking your best friend for help. "I mean...probably. Yeah."

“Then you should step back. From Marcus or Sam, that decision is yours. But some space might be needed to figure out what you are feeling.” Syd suggests.

"All the social media shit from our date last night is going to go viral really fast if anyone gets a whiff that we've broken up." Just as astonishing as the idea that you would even consider ending things, it's alarming how fast your heart knows the right decision to make. Or at least what you perceive as right in this moment. "It's going to be a shitshow..."

Sydney doesn’t comment on the fact that it seems like you’ve made up your mind, just humming. “Take it slow. It doesn’t have to be some kind of announcement.”

"The last thing I want is to have to make an announcement." The end of your coffee cup comes all too soon, and you fill it up again with a sigh. This morning is going to be a lot for many different reasons. "Syd...you would stop me if you thought I was making the wrong choice, right?"

“I would definitely try to talk to you.” She promises. “I like Sam, I really do, but if you don’t see yourself marrying him, well—” she shrugs. “Just give yourself a week, how about that?”

"Have I really reached the point in my life where it's not worth staying with someone that I don't see myself marrying?" That is a fairly rude awakening because of how honest it is, and you stifle a groan in one hand. "You're right, and I know you're right. But the State Dinner for the Spanish royal visit is in just over a week. The last thing I want is to have to go to that alone."

“To make it fair, give yourself that time.” She tells you. “Give him an honest try and if you still can’t see it, then you have your answer because Sam is the type to want marriage.”

"I want to get married, too." You always have. Ever since you were little. You reveled in family weddings and dreaming in your own big day. You had even talked to Marcus about it at the market. But whenever the future comes up with Sam, it ends up feeling tense now. "I just...it's a lot to even think about, Syd. You and Juan just...you're so good together. I don't think I'll ever get that lucky."

“I think you will.” She encourages. “My relationship with Juan isn’t without work.” She reminds you. “We still have to communicate and work through issues.”

"But it's worth it because you love each other so much." The sentence is out of your mouth before you have a chance to really sit on what you're saying, and just seconds after you hear yourself say it, your shoulders fall in defeat. "Oh...fuck..."

“What is it?” She asks, frowning at the way you just seemed to deflate.

"It's worth it for you and Juan to work through your issues because you love each other so much." Repeating the phrase makes it hurt all the more, because you didn't realize until this exact moment that it doesn't apply to you. At least, not anymore. "I...don't think I feel the same way..."

“Oh honey.” Her expression softens and she is immediately around the counter again, this time pulling you in for a big hug.

"I'm okay," you insist, through very obvious tears that announce the contrary. "I'm okay." You have to be. You have work to do, and you can't greet a large family party here to announce and celebrate an engagement with runny mascara. "I...have to be okay."

“Listen.” She lets you go and takes your shoulder to look you in the eyes. “You are going upstairs. Ahhh.” She stops you when you start to protest. “Take ten minutes, take an hour, take all day, but take some time to yourself before you start running around dealing with the very obvious results of love.” She tells you. “I can get them started with food and then Juan can take over to take them to the venue.” She shakes her head, huffing when you open your mouth again. “No, I’m not listening. Now go.”

"I'll be back in ten minutes." The best thing you can do for yourself today is keep busy, but she's right that you need to have a clear head for things to go well. "I just...I didn't know this was going to happen today. Or ever."

“I know, babe.” She squeezes you again and sighs. “But I’m here for you. Completely.”

"Thank you, love." Squeezing her tight against you as much as you can, you steal your second coffee away with you from the kitchen and head back upstairs with Agent Sisson following behind.

Sydney sighs as she looks at the door you disappear through for a moment before turning back to her work. The best way she can help you right now, is to make sure the incoming clients are happy.

Walking out through the back hall, you clutch your mug of coffee and try to hang onto a thread of dignity until you get back upstairs. There are more tears pressing at the back of your eyes and you absolutely do not want them shed in public. The elevator is in use, apparently, and you jam your finger in the button a second time for good measure before blowing out a sigh. What a great fucking Valentine’s last night turned out to be, and what a terrible fucking day this is looking like…

The little toiletry kits provided in the rooms are a godsend and both Marcus and Vanessa quickly clean up after the alarm had woken them. “Can’t believe we drank so much and we don’t have hangovers.” Marcus hums, riding the elevator down to get a quick breakfast with his Valentine’s date. They had ended up finishing a bottle and then having another few glasses while dancing. Feeling too drunk to safely get home, the night manager had agreed to let them take one of the rooms on the promise they would check out early. He has been grateful and eagerly agreed. “How about you?”

“Normally I would say I’m still drunk,” Vanessa admits with a sheepish laugh. “But I’m okay. I think it’s just a miracle and I’m not in the habit of questioning those. Though I could use some breakfast.”

“I’ll get you fed and then get you home so you won’t be late to work.” Marcus promises. He will be late, but he had already told his team to come in late, so it’s just paperwork that he’s missing.

“In case no one has ever told you before, you are a consummate caretaker.” It makes a girl like Vanessa feel very special, who spend her working hours caring for someone else and her downtime making sure to live up to her parents’ expectations, and while Marcus Pike isn’t quite her dream man — he’s handsome and sweet and she would be stupid to ignore that.

"I like to make sure people are happy and safe around me." Marcus shrugs off the praise with a small grin. "I took you from your house, it's only right I deliver you back to it." He hums as the elevator stops and dings before the doors open. "Now to get you fed."

When the elevator doors slide open in front of you, the most unwelcome sight in the world is waiting. The vision of Marcus Pike and Vanessa D’Amario in the same clothing you saw them wearing last night, looking refreshed and giddy huddled together in one corner of the elevator car makes you want to turn on your heel and flee back into the kitchen. And you probably would, if you weren’t rooted to the spot in shock and trying to remember how to breathe.

Vanessa murmurs your name in surprise. "I—I didn't expect to see you here this morning!" Her eyes dart around, almost nervously as she expects Sam to pop up. "I—uh, is Congressman Chase here?" She asks, "I thought— he said that you had a date." Normally dates between you and Sam included sleepovers.

“He’s not here.” You won’t invite questions by giving extra information, but when your feet remember how to work, you step out of the way to let them off the elevator. “I—um—I was just headed upstairs.” Sam is going to be in a very foul mood if he’s coming off a bad night and Vanessa walks in looking freshly fucked, and that almost makes you sob all over again. “N—nice to see you, Vanessa. Marcus.”

Marcus can't even do more than just nod and lift his hand and wave slightly, feeling foolish as he watches the doors slide closed and your eyes meet his in a kind of silent agony. "Well," Vanessa giggles and Marcus can't help the way that he swallows guiltily, like he's done something wrong. "I guess that's one way for my boss to learn I had a date."

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @storiesofthefandomlovers

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

[circeyoru]

In love with the idea of Bambi being a total sweetheart to reader, nuisance to residents of the hotel, and a nightmare for Al.

Like I can just see Al thinking he 'won' against Bambi, only to later go into his radio tower and it be a mess.

The settings and dials are all off, multiple things are unplugged or the cord is just chewed through, and blood or little bodies everywhere.

I'm also cracking up over reader mentioning cats supposedly leave bodies for people they care about to make sure they eat. Al getting offended the cat thinks he's incompetent, and Bambi upset you think he likes Al at ALL.

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

For those that have no idea who Bambi is, that's what I named the Cursed Cat Alastor after an ask's subtle suggestion so we don't mix him with Alastor.

Yup, I see a lot of playful but violent banters between the two when it comes to getting your attention and affection. It turned into a bit of a competition later on even though Alastor as more than enough of your feelings. Hello? You confessed already! Never enough, for him. If he can have more, he'll have more

Reader/you know about Bambi's attitude to others when you weren't around, you're not stupid to ignore the apparent favouritism. It was just funny so you didn't do much.

Interestingly, you never see the dead body or body parts that Bambi left for you. It's because you made it very clear that nothing was to dirty your room, to the point that Alastor's (raw) meals and hunting ground weren't designed like he had before you lived with him in the hotel. Bambi's smart to pick up on that since it wouldn't dare make you angry.

So where do the body parts and bodies go? The hotel kitchen, especially when Alastor's there preparing your meals or snacks or desserts.

I imagine everyone staring wide-eyed and clearing the path when Bambi came back dragging a demon body by the neck (that was definitely way bigger than its size) through the doors. Niffty quickly cleaned the trail of blood. Their eyes followed Bambi to the kitchen where Alastor soon emitted annoyed and offended radio static.

"I am perfectly capable of attaining ingredients for My Beloved without your help!"

"Meow!!!"

"And I am not sharing credits with you!"

"Meow!!!!!!"

"Alastor, when's food ready?" You peeked into the kitchen

Alastor beamed, "A moment, My Darling!"

"Oh, Bambi's here. That his meal?"

"Why yes, it was decent enough to hunt for itself I suppose."

"Meow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Another day in the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie and the others are still amazed that you can handle Alastor, but now they're even more shocked to see you handle this cursed cat version of Alastor as well.

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul #cursed cat alastor

[smoke-and-silver]

Ministry Holidays : Beltane

A small series of how the ministry celebrates the Wheel of the Year, following my personal headcanon that the ghouls and Siblings of Sin observe the solstices and equinoxes.

Beltane, celebrated the first day of May, marks the start of the transition from Spring into Summer.

The ministry has a very thorough deep cleaning in the weeks leading up to Beltane. This is their "spring cleaning" time, when they get rid of any old clutter and clear out their wardrobes.

On the evening of May 1st, the fire ghouls work to start a bonfire in the middle of the courtyard. Any old unwanted items or things one is ready to let go of can be thrown into the fire. Dewdrop keeps it from spreading or getting out of control.

The nuns have a small series of dances and races, a friendly competition all eventually narrowing down to one winner who is crowned their "May Queen". The victorious Sister gets a big crown of flowers to wear for the rest of the night and to hang on her door as a wreath afterwards.

The Ghouls and Sisters weave crowns from foliage to gift to each other. The ghouls end up with multiple crowns on their heads or hanging from their horns, from Siblings of Sin showing their gratitude for all the hard work their demons do.

Mountain is given the most love during Beltane. Earth ghouls are the most closely linked to the holiday, and it's when all his efforts in the garden really start to show. His antlers are decorated with deep red ribbons by Sisters and Ghouls alike all showing him their appreciation.

A giant picnic takes place in the gardens. Every table they can find is dragged outside, candles and lanterns are lit throughout, and bright red strands of flowers are hung between the trees.

The tables are piled with dark fruit, honey cakes, various smoked meats, and the most rich chocolate desserts you can imagine, with plum wine from last year's summer to go with it all.

It's a very sensual holiday and it's not uncommon to see Ghouls and Sisters getting amorous around the fire--or Sisters and Sisters, or Ghouls and Ghouls. It's considered a lucky time for couples.

More adult activities and rituals are planned in the garden later in the night, after anyone who doesn't wish to partake has gone inside. Everyone is very respectful and they all wait for any uninterested or uncomfortable Ghouls and Sisters to go to bed before such activities begin.

--Swiss will inevitably begin stripping at some point in the night. Plum wine is his favorite. There's bets on how long he can keep his clothes on.

#nameless ghouls #the band ghost #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #beltane