#but they changed the lunch to brunch and now I don’t know what to expect

[alwaysbelikethis]

Rosé x Fem!Reader

TW: Mention of S^icide. Please if you're sensitive do not read such stuff idk why i started writing with this... if you struggle pls contact with anyone or even me. Such stories of mentioned can trigger the person, beware.

Contains +18 content

(In)vincible

“Rosie”

“Rosie!! Wake up” whisper yelled i.

It was around 2-3 am and the sound woke one of the lovers with panic.

“Rosie!! Wake up! There’s a sound coming from downstairs!!”

“Ah..” “ that must be washing machine, i started it before..” rosie on the other hand having a hard time to wake up, or to care according to y/n.

“For god sake i- did you have to do that in the middle of the night? We have all day…”

Girl complained but only would echo into the room and get back to herself while her girlfriend already fall back to dream… what was the point?

You see, long time couples sometimes cannot stand each other. Sometimes everything is so still where you were expecting to be all fun and happy. Which is kind of true though. They are happy time to time and would scream to each other the other time.

Rosé is organized person, she’s structured and right on time with everything. She has already planned her next week meal. And y/n is more different and complicated than that. She wants to watch a movie right now and she would and you wouldn’t catch what’s her next move. You, me, bed now and bang bang bangity bang? No, Rosie cannot be active after dinner for 1 hour. Y/N has learnt to wait.

She has learnt a lot to fit in rosé’s life. She fit in just right that it’s her world that Y/N lives in it. Who was she before she moved in? Everything seems alright at some point but is it? Y/N went back to sleep wondering all the answers.

Next morning Y/N woke up like she was just born. Rosé already came back from her morning run and left the curtains full open for her girlfriend to have all the sun light of the morning. Vitamin D at it’s full potential, however Y/N is not.

“Did you have breakfast?”

She startled her girlfriend who was changing and didn’t know she woke up.

“Jeez… how long have you been awake?”

“Just enough to admire all the muscle show you put on” there, Y/N is smiling full even her eyes are not quite open.

“I had breakfast before i left, its actually almost my lunch time”

“You can join my brunch, my lady”

“You take hour to get up, i’ll probably catch you on your brunchinner”

“Is that supposed to be brunch and dinner mix?”

“I’m not good with words just.. you got it”

Y/N smiled and gave up having a meal with her girlfriend cuz she feels like she’s an affair between her girlfriend and her schedule. However rosé has no idea what those small things mean to her gf and she get things on her way.

Saturday and sunday had passed and monday morning Y/N left for work early. Rosie has all the time to clean places alone.

Bzzzz bzzzz (its supposed to be phone ringing)

“Yeah?..” “okay i’ll check it on the website itself” rosé grabbed your computer to mail files to Y/N because her irresponsible ass forgot.

Alright… google… search bar… search history.

‘Why my girlfriend is not the same?’

‘What can i do to make my gf happy?’

‘S***ide help support’

What?

Rosé stared at the screen for 5 min at least until Y/N called her again.

“Rosie can you please be quick this is urgent just send me already”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I- okay. I’ll send now”

Rosé has started to contemplate everything after the first shock. She never realised? But Y/N has been with her for years. They maybe don’t wake together and have breakfast together or dinner or make out or… did they being back to friends? What kind of relationship was that? How could she not tell rosé?? How could she- rosé went through all of it until another phone ring from you wake her up.

“Rosie im asking a favour what are you doing? I’m gonna get fired and i’m having all the panic for god sake its just a file! Please!!”

“I’m sending it now” Now rosé sounds so small that Y/N thought it was about her voice tone.

“Okay i got it thank you, look i’m sorry if it was harsh, i got panicked and all and you know my boss with this goddamn presentstion everytime like it’s-“

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Come home when you get off from work”

“Okay… are you really that hurt? Look i’m sor-“

“No it’s all okay, just, for dinner”

“Oh who are you and what did you do to my gf? Because i….“

Rosé is still shocked how Y/N is trying to be silly, funny, all laugh like she’s on holiday at clouds floating around lightly. Rosé cut it short and hung up the phone. She was actually dripping tears.

She cried good. How long has it been since they drifted apart this much? Was she neglecting her much? Was she in her world too much to see the girl sleeping next to her every night?

Questions took a new turn and it was rosé this time. For how long? ….

rosé realised it’s been 2 and a half hours since she was thinking everything and every detail. She decided to get up and plan a delightful night for Y/N. Her favourite food and quality time. They both could use that.

Then around afternoon, she heard the car engine coming from the front while she was staring at rhe blank. She got up immediately to welcome you at the door. She’s not sure what to do with all the overwhelming information she got today but she had one goal, to make you happy tonight. So she waited for Y/N to open the door and suprise her.

“Jeez!!!!! Rosie! What are you doing? Are you about to go out? You scared me”

“Gosh you scared me too, just wanted to suprise you and give a hug. I missed my gf!”

“Seriously what got into you?? Did you watch titanic again and got into your romantic era? It ain’t like you”

And rosé hugged her gf so tightly. She never realised how precious this small thing is.

“Woah baby, did something happen to you?”

“No… I just wanted to appriciate you. Get change and we’ll have dinner, okay?”

“Okay baby, thank you, this is so sweet of you! I’ll be right back. I love you!”

I love you.

I love you.

What was the last time they use that? What if something happened to her and would she remember the last time they actually appriciate this love? She has to shake herself, she can’t loose it all now. It’s ‘her’ night.

“Woah today you saved my life you know? Idk how did i forget my laptop at home. I’m getting old, babygirl”

Did she? Save her life? Cuz she faced the exact opposite fact today. She actually made rosé really happy but rosé blamed herself for not appriciating it.

They ate all the food and rosé listen Y/N talk about her day. And she listen to her appriciating rosé’s effort on tonight and how happy she makes her. She has to learn to return this love.

“I thought you were going out with that outfit, did you wear this for tonight only?” Rosé knows how to make Y/N crazy with skirt and high heel combination even though it’s silly to wear them around the house, she wanted Y/N to get in the mood

“Only for you, Y/N girl”

“You look, like you could kill 5 people from heart attack from directly looking at you”

Rosé took Y/N’s hand and pull her in closer. Lips on lips and its like the last day on earth. Hands on each other like it’s the first touch.

“Ah, okay sorry, we can stop here since we had just dinner and you plan your sex time according to that for some reason. You’re such a weir-“

“Get on my tigh.”

“Wha- like sit? We can get to the couch, i think survivor is playing tonight”

Gosh, how long they have been apart from each other for her to think anything but sex from rosé.

“Y/N shut up and take your underwear off and sit on my tigh.”

“I-“

“I’m waiting.”

Y/N has no idea what happened to her gf but she’s loving it. Rosé took the charge and take off her underwear. Y/N sits on rosé’s thigh which was between her legs. Rosé pushed her knee up to cause pressure on Y/N’s sweet spot.

“Ah… rosé…”

“Grind.”

“Wha-?”

Rosé is impatient and almost annoyed with her gf questioning everything so she grabbed her bum and make her. “Shit rosé i-“ then rosé didn’t give her chance to talk and put her fingers on her mouth. Finally when Y/N lost her sanity and grind by herself on rosé, other hand of her went to grab Y/N’s throat.

“Make a mess” the suction of her fingers turn into bites and that’s where rosé knows Y/N’s body is full of tension. She then released her body on rosé and she hold her. She hold her tight. “Sorry i kinda make a mess on your legs but i-“

“God sake Y/N because i told you so, you talk too much” she grabbed her like a baby and carried her to the bed. You see, rosé may seem like self-centered but she’s the most selfess with her gf. She just sometimes forget how to hold each other. Y/N, already passed out on bed, makes rosé stare at her long enough. She curled up next to her and cannot control her tears. Emotions are too overwhelming and she has not digested any of it. Where would she go to relieve all of it? Who she talk to? Confront Y/N? The night flies away with thoughts…

After days went by, Y/N woke up to the saturday morning with her girlfriends’ arm all around her. She has no idea why rosé cling into her all week out of nowhere. She’s not complaining but she cannot stop wondering why. Just a week ago, rosé seemed like she would avoid her at all cost. But today, they were truely invincible.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Good morning”

“Morning love”

….

“I love you”

….

“I love you too”

You see, rosé couldn’t confront her mostly because she didn’t think she would able to handle it. Who can? Instead she tried to give her all. Everything. Although it didn’t take much to things get back to their abnormal normality.

���Rosé”

“Yes, love?”

“I’m off to work, take care okay?” She peck a kiss

“Okay love, you too!”

She was about to leave but she came back to rosé and give her a passionate kiss this time but rosé already turn back to take the ringing phone

“I love you”

Rosé nodded with her while greeting the person on the phone

And she left. Little did she know Y/N wasn’t off to work that day.

Y/N won’t be able to off to work any day, ever.

#Rosé #blackpink #blackpink imagines #kpop #Rosé imagine #Rosé imagines #Rosé x reader #fanfiction

[pan-de-queer]

valleys behind your kneecaps (supercorp)

Genre: Fluff, No Powers AU

Summary:

Sam clasps her hands together as she leans almost halfway over the table. “Will you please do this for me?” “Sam—” “I’ll never complain about your restaurant choices ever again, you can keep the modeling payment, and I’ll buy you lunch for two weeks straight.” “I’m an heiress, Sam, I really don’t need the payment or free lunch.” “That last part wasn’t a bribe, it’s a threat.” Lena scoffs, rolling her eyes as she fights a smile. “Fine. I’ll do your little modeling thing.”

Or: Lena's a med student, Kara's an artist, and somehow they still fall in love.

Author's Note: i did a writing test for work and i couldn't get my head to write original blorbos without an outline so i wrote supercorp instead and then changed the names so this is the og of that test (but longer bc i can't shut up about these idiots fr) oh also happy belated(??) valentines i guess! title from Kindling by Caitlyn Siehl and unbetaed for now (knowing me, the fic might get longer when i edit lol)

UPDATE: i edited :))) and added around 500+ words

ao3

valleys behind your kneecaps

Lena rarely ever gets time for herself.

It comes with the territory, she knows that. Being a med student means sacrificing a lot to become the doctor the Luthors have always expected of her.

It probably helps that her social life wasn’t all that affected.

Her grand total of three friends all understood the pressure she was under and the work she constantly has to do to stay on top. Still, that didn’t mean they didn’t force her to take a break every now and then.

Which is how Lena finds herself here, at Noonan’s, enjoying brunch with Sam on a sunny Thursday morning. Or, well, she was enjoying it until Sam gets a call from Ruby’s school and asks for a favor. A weird one.

“You want me to model for you?” Lena laughs, her sides cramping up. She laughs so hard she chokes on her kale and salmon salad. She laughs until she realizes that Sam isn’t laughing along. Until she realizes that Sam is dead serious.

“Oh.” Lena blinks, jaw clamping shut at Sam’s wide, pleading eyes.

“Please, Lena, it’s in half an hour and they wouldn’t be able to find a replacement so last minute and you know how Ruby gets when I make her wait.”

“She gets it from you,” Lena scoffs, dusting nonexistent dirt off the spot next to her coffee. “Besides, shouldn’t I be coming along to check on Ruby’s health?”

“Okay, first of all, rude! Secondly, you’re a medical student training to be a surgeon, not a pedia.”

“It’s not like I don’t know enough of the basics to check on her.”

“No. The school nurse already gave her the all-clear she just needs to go home and rest. Now.” Sam clasps her hands together as she leans almost halfway over the table. “Will you please do this for me?”

“Sam—”

“I’ll never complain about your restaurant choices ever again, you can keep the modeling payment, and I’ll buy you lunch for two weeks straight.”

“I’m an heiress, Sam, I really don’t need the payment or free lunch.”

“That last part wasn’t a bribe, it’s a threat.”

Lena scoffs, rolling her eyes as she fights a smile. “Fine. I’ll do your little modeling thing.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Sam drops a sloppy kiss on Lena’s forehead before she grabs her things, backing away with her purse in one hand and her phone in the other. “The class is in Studio C. Just tell the instructor I sent you! Thank you!”

Sam disappears out the doors before her last thank you even ends and Lena’s left alone with her half-eaten brunch and a sudden appointment to keep.

The things Lena does for her friends.

With a sigh, Lena finishes her salad and coffee before exiting the café that stood right across the cursed art studio. Sam had been modeling part-time for DEO Studio for almost two years now and had even invited Lena and their usual friend group (consisting of Jack and Andrea) to take some beginner’s classes for fun. Lena had never accepted the offer, of course, what with all the studying and hospital rounds she always had to do, but she’d always been supportive of her friend’s varying choice of part-time jobs (she kept trying to convince Sam to just ask for a raise, after all, she’d been the one to convince Lex to hire her, but Sam was too much of a wimp to negotiate with Lillian).

As Lena walks across the cracked, paved street and pushes open clear, glass doors, she wonders if she’s being a little too supportive this time.

The inside of the studio is clean and minimalist, brick walls painted white surrounds the space with a simple, wooden front desk greeting everyone who enters. A small waiting lounge is lined up in front of the studio’s towering glass windows and the walls have fewer paintings and pictures than Lena assumed there’d be in an art studio. A large, sculpted art piece stands off to the side to seemingly make up for the lack of them.

“Hello! Welcome to DEO Studio.” A young woman greets her from behind the desk. “Can I help you with anything?”

Lena shuffles towards the reception desk, the weight of Sam’s favor slowly starting to hit her. “Um, yes. My friend, Samantha Arias, had an emergency to take care of and asked me to sub-in for her modeling work today.”

Truly, the strangest, almost laughable sentence she’s ever said.

Lena?

A model?

Ha!

“Oh! Yes, I’m familiar with Sam. I’m Nia!” Nia stands to offer her a handshake and despite the nerves starting to creep into her chest, Lena takes it with all the poise of an heiress.

“Hi, Nia. Lena. Sam said that the class is in Studio C and that I should tell the instructor she sent me?”

“Yes, alright, let me lead you to the studio and I can explain the situation to the instructor.”

Nia circles around the desk to lead her down the entrance to the left and Lena follows with a soft, “Thank you so much.”

Lena folds her hands behind her back to keep them from twisting, a habit Lillian is still trying to fix. Instead, Lena focuses on the way the studio is laid out, channeling her nerves into taking stock of her surroundings. The hallways are as white and nondescript as the front room, but Lena takes note of the two photography studios and a sculpting studio that they pass before stopping at a nondescript glass door at the end of the hall.

Nia enters first and holds the door open for her to follow. When she enters, the first thing Lena notices is that while the room remains white, paintings and drawings and posters litter two free walls from floor to ceiling. One wall is covered with shelving, closets, cabinets, and a dressing room, neatly labeled with big, printed stickers, while a huge panel of windows cover the wall opposite the door. A small, raised platform stands in the middle of the room, far enough from the door to be difficult to see immediately but right in the middle of the well-lit room.

Seven easels circle the platform with three of the wooden chairs accompanying each easel already occupied by an artist setting up their sketchpad and materials. An eighth easel stands in the far left corner of the room, farthest from the windows and door, and has a tall, tan goddess standing next to it who seems occupied with organizing her own materials.

Lena is frozen at the sight of the woman, but Nia walks straight towards the Adonis of a blonde, exchanging a hushed conversation that includes a few glances her way that Lena uses as an excuse to politely take a look at the woman she assumes she’s working with.

The maybe-instructor is taller than her, looking down at Nia with a furrow between her blonde brows and an adorable tilt to her head. She wears cute, blocky glasses that frame eyes that, without even seeing them, Lena knows are gorgeous. Plump pink lips are twisted into a frown as the woman nods at whatever Nia is telling her. She’s dressed in a comfy-looking plaid button up, the sleeves rolled up tightly on her forearms and her biceps obviously straining under the cotton. Before Lena’s gaze can fall any lower, though, Nia and the maybe-instructor start walking her way and Lena’s breath catches as she finally gets a good look at the woman’s face.

Bright blue eyes crinkle adorably at the corners as a tan nose wrinkles over a welcoming grin. Lena is pretty sure the woman’s smile can stop wars. It was art in itself.

“Hi!” The woman of Lena’s dreams greets with an outstretched hand as they come to a stop in front of her. “Nia told me that you’re subbing in for Sam and I’m really thankful for the assist! I’m Kara, Kara Danvers.”

By some miracle, Lena’s brain manages to react before she can even fully process what’s happening. Her hand slipping into a warm, calloused one as she replies, “Lena. I’m happy to be here.”

“And we’re glad to have you!” Kara beams, her smile somehow brightening even more. “Follow me and I’ll show you what you’ll be doing for today’s class.”

Like a moth to a flame, Lena followed Kara through the studio, barely remembering to thank Nia for the guidance as Kara starts talking a mile a minute.

“So today’s class is an intermediate drawing class, so everyone’s used to working with a model already. We normally start every model-work class with quick line sketching before you have to do the whole sitting still for an hour thing.” Just when Lena thinks Kara’s finished her explanation, her eyes widen and she keeps going. “Oh! Did Sam tell you you’d have to be sitting still for this? It can feel kind of awkward and cramp-y at first but if you need any breaks you can just signal me and I can give you a minute or two to stretch but—”

“Kara.” Lena lays a hand on the art instructor’s strong, broad shoulder, realizing that if she continued to keep quiet then Kara will never stop. “I get it, it’s fine. And I’ve modeled before, kind of.”

Luthor Corp promotionals and Lillian’s constant need to showcase the perfect family image definitely counts as modeling in Lena’s book.

“Oh! Really? That’s so cool!” Kara seems to breathe a little easier at her touch. “Are you, like, a professional model or something?”

Lena laughs, flattered but also mystified. She knew she had some looks, as many of the wealthy creeps and paparazzi liked to remind her, but she was far from model material. Lillian made sure to remind her of that every time she was pictured out in public.

Still, the fact that Kara thinks so is sweet.

“No, I’m definitely not model material,” Lena shakes her head, smile wry and shoulders tight. “I’m a med student.”

Kara hums, lips pursed thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t be all that fair if you were a model. You’d be too perfect. Beauty and brains? Definitely cheating.”

Heat blooms from Lena’s neck to her cheeks, Kara’s smile widening as blue eyes seem to trace every touch of pink on her face. Hoping to pull the attention away from her flaming cheeks, Lena ducks her head and asks, “So, what do I need to do first?”

The question seems to snap Kara back into work mode, because then, Lena’s being shown the different kinds of poses most class models go for before being offered a floor pillow or a chair to model on. Lena chooses the chair and only has enough time to thank Kara for carrying it to the platform before the class begins.

Introductions are made briefly at the start as Lena’s the only new person amongst the group, and then the actual class and modeling starts. Lena builds a rhythm with the warm up sketches, getting comfortable with quick poses and holding them for a minute before moving on to the next. The room is filled with the sound of pencil scratching paper and Lena feels the most relaxed she’s been in years.

There’s something freeing about being a small class model. She isn’t striking any kind of dramatic pose and yet every movement is art. Every slouch of her shoulders and stretch of her leg is something these people can turn beautiful.

(It also helps that Kara praises her after every pose, a warmth Lena refuses to name surrounding her from the inside out.)

A few minutes later, Kara moves to stand next to Lena on the platform with her sketchpad in hand and starts the actual drawing lessons. Lena finds herself captivated with the way Kara speaks, passionate and excited and bright. She watches sure, strong hands wave in every direction, blue eyes widening and narrowing with every explanation and example Kara gives. Eventually, Kara returns to her easel and calls for everyone to start drawing in detail, and Lena manages to fall into a pose sitting comfortably in the direction of the instructor herself.

She uses the position to give her an excuse to look Kara’s way. Watches blonde brows furrowing as Kara stares at her own sketchpad with a slight pout to her pink lips. Steady fingers make varying strokes on the paper as a slender wrist twists this way and that. It’s only a couple minutes later that Lena notices the constant rhythm of Kara’s pencil strokes suddenly still. Green eyes move from long fingers to broad shoulders to tilted lips and then sparkling blues.

Busted.

Kara seems amused at catching Lena staring, even a little pleased if Lena were to believe her imagination. But Lena was never much of a believer, so she put on her Luthor mask and pushed back her embarrassment at being caught, raising a challenging brow instead.

Kara only responds with a smug smile before diving back into her own drawing.

Lena lets out a shaky breath as the attention (or Kara’s attention, at least) shifts. She tries to return to her previous position and attempts to focus on the art scattering the wall.

She fails.

Green eyes unintentionally stray towards bright blue eyes and perfect blonde hair, and then the cycle repeats.

Lena stares.

She gets caught.

Kara smiles.

Rinse.

Repeat.

Fall.

By the time Kara finally calls for everyone to show their drawings, Lena almost feels as if they were flirting.

But why would a walking goddess flirt with her?

“Alright, class!” Kara claps her hands as Lena leans against one of the art-covered walls, finally free from sitting in the middle of the room. “Great work today! I can see that you’re all getting faster and some of you are even developing your own art styles. Keep practicing and I’ll see you all next week!”

The students all leave, none seemingly interested in staying behind for a chat but all giving Kara and Lena a quick glance as they leave.

(So maybe she threw subtle out the window after Kara caught her staring the first time. Sue her.)

Once the last student makes their way out, Kara steps off the platform and makes her way over, smile tilted on her pretty, pink lips.

“You stayed,” Kara’s voice is soft, breathy.

“Well,” Lena smiles, feels her chest warming at the way Kara says it. “I-” was hoping to ask you out. I think you’re super hot; here’s my number. I am so gay. All excellent and accurate choices, really, and yet the words that come out of Lena’s mouth are: “I wasn’t sure if you paid Sam after every class or every month.”

Kara’s eyes widen before a sheepish smile replaces it and suddenly Lena feels like she’s fucked up. “Oh, I almost forgot. I mean, I didn’t! I never forget to pay Sam. Fair pay! Y’know? Um, just, sorry, the modeling payment’s usually with Nia or J’onn.”

Lena feels the warmth start to fade as Kara takes a noticeable step back. Oh. Fuck.

“Wait!” Lena winces at the volume of her own voice but lets out a breath as she watches Kara freeze. “Sorry, I meant, um, I don’t need the payment right now. Or ever, really.”

Kara’s brows furrow as Lena tries to sort through her thoughts. “Well that doesn’t sound fair, Lena. We make it a practice to pay everyone who works for us. I’m pretty sure it’s both unethical and illegal to not pay your employees and when you model for us, you’re technically like a freelance employee. So we’ll obviously pay you for your time.”

“Kara?” Lena rushes in the second Kara pauses for a breath.

“Yeah?”

“I understand the legal requirements and all, but I did this as a favor for a friend, so what I meant was that you can keep the payment and give it to Sam, instead.” Lena smiles, aiming for reassuring. “I don’t need the money, and, honestly, the payment thing wasn’t what I really wanted to say.”

Kara sucks in a breath at the admission, blue eyes wide as a hopeful look crosses her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Lena sucks in a breath, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet as she tries to pluck any semblance of courage to ask a ridiculously gorgeous girl out.

“I really liked your lesson,” Lena starts, far from what she was hoping to say but a start nonetheless.

“Thanks,” Kara smiles, earnest but a little confused. “You did great for a non-professional model.”

Lena chuckles in reply, smile crooked as she tries to bite it down. “Thanks. I had some high expectations to meet.”

“Well, consider them met.”

And Kara’s so sincere, so cute as she stuffs her pencil-smudged hands into her pockets, that Lena decides, fuck it. What does she have to lose? She can ask Kara out and get a date or simply avoid the woman for the rest of her life. Easy.

“Kara,” Lena lets out a breath, green eyes glued to the paint splatter stuck on Kara’s faded sneakers. “I was wondering if you’d like to have coffee some time.”

The words on a date are stuck in her throat, but Lena considers it a big enough win that she asked at all. So she waits, lungs frozen and heart drumming in her chest for a rejection she expects and a miracle she hopes for. She’s focusing on keeping her breathing steady when a warm hand envelopes hers. Slowly, she looks up to find Kara beaming, a smile brighter than every single smile Kara’s given her today combined, blonde waves bouncing up and down excitedly.

“I’d love to have coffee with you some time.” Lena feels Kara’s hand squeeze hers gently before blue eyes crinkle further as Kara’s smile widens impossibly brighter. “But only on one condition.”

“Anything.” Lena says. Everything, she thinks.

Kara leans in closer, close enough that Lena can tell each shade of blue in her eyes. “Can coffee be a date?”

And Lena laughs, because yes. Yes. “I’d love nothing more.”

#cw supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fic #my writing #the prompt was for a student doctor to meet the 'love of their life' in an art studio for the test and my brain went 'that's supercorp' #it's ass o clock in the morning here and i have work in a couple hours so i'll edit later this evening if i finish work early hahahaha #idk how i feel about this the flow doesn't seem smooth to me but! easily fixable for a more coherent brain so #enjoy!! #UPDATE: edited! #queer bread writes

[honeypiehotchner]

Don’t You (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two of Bye Bye, Baby

I love how this mini-series was totally impromptu but happened so fast. Gotta love my brain!

Loosely based on “Don’t You” by Taylor Swift! xx.

Summary: Aaron wants to talk. Do you?

Warnings: ANGST

Word Count: 2k this time oop

Bye Bye, Baby (Part One) || That’s When (Part Three) || Hotch Masterlist

Hey/I knew I’d run into you somewhere/It’s been a while

The text message from Aaron has sat glaring at you on your phone screen for the past hour.

Hotch (BAU) Sorry for hitting you with my cart earlier.

You don’t know what to make of it. It’s obviously an attempt to start up a conversation after four years, but why? Why, after all this time, does he think this is okay?

It’s 1 a.m. when you call Dannie.

“I would tell you to go to sleep, but I just got in bed, so I can’t talk.”

You chuckle quietly. “Better than me. I’m still on the couch.”

Dannie exhales. “Did Jules stay up late again?”

“No, no, she… She passed out around nine.”

Dannie sighs. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I saw Aaron today,” you blurt, quietly, not wanting to risk Juliet hearing even a whisper of this.

“Aaron?” Dannie asks. “Like...Juliet’s dad, Aaron? That one?”

“Yep,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead. “The one and only.”

“Where?”

“The grocery store,” you say. “Our carts bumped into each other. I wasn’t watching where I was going, so it was definitely my fault, but he texted me a while ago apologizing for it.”

“Woah, he texted you?”

“Unfortunately,” you murmur, hating that you feel tears pricking at your eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you texted him back?”

“I don’t know if I want to.”

“I understand,” Dannie sighs. “Maybe just say it’s okay? Leave it short.”

“Yeah,” you nod, sniffling, wiping a tear away. “God, I’ve been fine all evening and it just...hit me when I saw his text.”

“You had to keep it together for Jules,” Dannie reminds you. “What did she say about him?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say. “She really wanted cookies, so she was focused on getting vegetables for dinner so she could have them.”

Dannie laughs. “That sounds like her. Did she eat all her vegetables?”

“Even the broccoli,” you grin. “So she got an extra cookie.”

The two of you laugh lightly, letting the silence settle.

“What do I do if he wants to get to know her?” You break the silence with the one question that’s been on your mind all night. “I mean, he’s a profiler. There’s no way he doesn’t know she’s his.”

“Okay, first of all, she’s yours,” Dannie says firmly. “Second, it’s all up to you. And her. If she wants to get to know him, then ultimately it’s up to you to decide if that’s a good idea and where would be safest for it to happen, if you want it to.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t stress about it tonight,” she says quietly. “Text him back in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Want to surprise Jules with brunch tomorrow?”

You smile almost immediately. “Of course.”

+++

You wake from a restless sleep to Juliet climbing into bed with you.

“Good morning, munchkin,” you whisper, kissing her forehead. She’s still sleepy and will probably sleep for another hour in your arms, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

As expected, Juliet falls fast asleep with her head on your chest. While she’s snoring softly, you grab your phone and text Dannie about brunch. And that’s when you’re reminded of Aaron’s text.

Quickly, before you can think twice, you reply. It’s okay.

And you move on to text Dannie, letting her know you’re awake and so is Juliet. After making plans to meet for brunch in an hour and a half, you lightly shake Juliet awake.

“Psst, munchkin,” you murmur. “Wanna have brunch with Dannie?”

Juliet pops her head up almost instantly. “Really?”

“Really really,” you nod.

She grins wide and your chest aches for a moment. She’s always had his smile, but you never realized how much it’s his smile until today.

Juliet scrambles off your bed to get dressed, and you take a deep breath before getting up, too.

+++

The entire day passes without a reply from Aaron. You don’t know what to make of it, but you do your best to ignore it.

Thoughts of him keep you awake almost all night, so by the next morning, you’re dying to get your coffee before you walk into work.

You drop Juliet off at daycare, then park your car at work, with somehow enough time to spare to walk to your favorite coffee shop before clocking in.

You spot Aaron as soon as you walk in.

“You better not be following me around,” you mutter as you stand in line behind him.

He spins around, his face softening when he recognizes you. “Hi. I’m not trying to, I promise.”

You nod slowly.

Don’t you/Don’t you smile at me and ask me how I’ve been

“How are you?” He asks hesitantly, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Good,” you reply. “You?”

“Good,” he pauses. “Busy.”

“Me too.”

The awkward small talk is ended by the line moving forward, putting Aaron at the front. He orders his usual, and steps aside. You order your usual, with a pastry, too, as a sort of condolences gift to yourself for the bullshit you’re enduring.

When you step to the side to wait, Aaron tries again.

“Sorry again for hitting you in the store with my cart,” he says. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s okay,” you say, keeping your eyes away from his. “In your defense, I wasn’t paying attention either.”

He chuckles quietly and the sound sends a dagger right to your heart.

When his coffee is ready, he grabs it, and you internally beg him to leave without another word. But he doesn’t.

Sometimes I really wish I could hate you/I’ve tried, but that’s just something I can’t do

“This is probably too forward of me, but—”

Your coffee is up.

You step forward to grab it, and damn you, you look at him to ask him to continue.

“Can we talk?” Aaron finishes.

“Right now?” You question, following him to the door. He holds it open for you and you hate that you almost smile. “I have to get to work.”

“Me too,” he says, stopping on the sidewalk with you. “We could get dinner tonight.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” he nods. “No pressure. Just text me if you want to.”

“Okay,” you exhale shakily. “See you.”

You turn on your heel and nearly sprint down the sidewalk, chest heaving and tears welling in your eyes.

+++

“What do you want to do?” Dannie asks.

You met her for lunch to discuss your encounter with Aaron this morning, and so far you still don’t know what the hell you’re going to do.

“I want to tell him to leave me alone and never come near me again,” you blurt, but then you sigh. “I don’t mean that.”

Dannie smiles sadly. “I know.”

You don’t/You don’t know how much I feel I still love you

“I think I want to talk to him, but...I don’t know, I’m scared. I don’t think I can do a dinner. I’m sick to my stomach just thinking about this and I mean...I hate that I still love him. After all this I can’t even hate him.”

“It’s hard to hate someone you love.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Wanna help me text him?”

“Of course.”

After some trial and error, you and Dannie settle on this message.

Hey. I’d like to talk, but not dinner. What about a walk instead?

Aaron replies quickly.

Hotch (BAU) That’s perfect. Where is best?

+++

The park you chose is, regrettably, the one where you and Aaron had your first date.

In your defense, it’s closest and safest. And quiet.

Aaron doesn’t seem to mind the location, though, when he walks toward you. You’re sitting on a park bench, one that must be new because you don’t remember it.

As he gets closer, you see he has two cups of coffee in hand.

“I got your usual,” he says softly. “If you want.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking it from him, careful not to let your fingers touch.

Hesitantly, he sits next to you.

The two of you sit in silence for a while. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, and apparently, neither can he.

After too long, though, you break the silence. “Ready to walk?”

“Sure,” he replies, standing with you.

You venture down the trail, grateful that you changed into your sneakers before coming. It takes another few moments before the silence is broken -- by Aaron this time.

“Is she mine?”

You sigh heavily. You should’ve known he’d ask that first.

“Technically, Juliet is mine,” you reply. “But you are the father, if that’s what you’re asking.” You pause. “You’re the only one I was with, so there’s no doubt.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” he says quietly. You can tell he’s looking at you, but you don’t look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried,” you admit. “I called three times. I got your voicemail.”

Once: When you decided officially to keep the baby. You were three months pregnant. You had almost thought he picked up when the line clicked, and then you heard his voicemail. You hung up and took a bath instead, phone forgotten in the living room.

Twice: Dannie was beside you. You were seven months then. You had caved and asked if it was a boy or girl. After hearing it was a girl, a part of you desperately wanted to tell Aaron. You remembered him saying he always wanted a baby girl. Your heart still ached from when he broke it, but you wanted to tell him. You got his voicemail.

The third time: You had just given birth. You named her Juliet. You wanted to tell Aaron. You wanted to know if he should be on the birth certificate. You wanted to tell him you had a baby girl. When he didn’t answer, the nurse gave you a sad smile, and left the line blank. Dannie held Juliet for a while so you could cry.

“You never left a message,” he replies, sounding offended.

“Did you really want me to break the news in a voicemail?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “But you could’ve said it was something important. I would’ve returned your call.”

“I called three times,” you remind him. “You’re a fucking profiler, Aaron. You think three calls meant it was unimportant?” You pause, grounding yourself. “I figured you were out on a case. I don’t blame you for that. I understand, I’ve been there. But after calling three times and not getting a single reply, I figured it was useless. I didn’t have the time or energy to worry about it anymore. I had a newborn to take care of.”

He’s silent for a while.

“How is she?”

“She’s fine. She’s with her Godmother. Probably watching Frozen.”

“That’s good.”

You can’t do this anymore. “If that’s all you wanted to ask, then I need to get going. No offense, but I really don’t have the time for small talk.”

“I understand, but…” He stops walking, staring down at his feet before locking eyes with you. “Would you— Would you be willing to give me a second chance?”

Don’t you/Don’t you say that you miss me if you don’t want me again

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, angry tears pricking your eyes. “Why?”

“I’d like to be a part of Juliet’s life. And yours. If you’ll let me.”

“I’ll ask her,” you reply. “But you can be a part of her life without being a part of mine.”

“You know that’s not true,” he says. “You chose this park for a reason today.”

“No, I chose it because it’s close,” you hiss. “Don’t you dare profile me. Don’t you dare.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and for a second you think he might have tears in his eyes, too. “I’m sorry, you’re right, that was uncalled for.”

“Thank you,” you murmur. “I really do need to go.”

“Can I at least walk you to your car?”

After a moment of thought, you nod. “Sure.”

My heart knows what the truth is/I swore I wouldn’t do this

#don't you #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #bye bye baby #that's when #songfic #aaron hotchner songfic #angst #criminal minds fanfiction

[maria-akira]

to the rescue | team trese x reader

—♡—

summary: y/n, basilio and crispin's sister, just experienced her first break-up.

warnings: some improper shifts in tenses <\3 rlly rusty at writing already aaaa. but nonetheless this fic is very fluffy! i apologize in advance for any grammatical errors you may notice, i didn't proofread this :(

yes, i kinda made alexandra fluffy too.

—♡—

"Good Morning, guys!" Basilio turned around to see his brother, Crispin, with a huge smile plastered on his face.

Basilio rolled his eyes, "Anong 'Good Morning'? Mag tatanghali na, di ka man lang nag linis!" (What do you mean 'Good Morning'? It's almost afternoon, you didn't even clean!) He playfully hit the older's head.

"Aray ko!" (Ouch!) Crispin winced and rubbed the spot his brother hit. Alexandra walks in the room with a cup of coffee in her hand. "Basilio, Mag sorry ka sa Kuya mo." (Basilio, apologize to your brother.) Basilio scoffs, "Sorry, Kuya."

They all gathered in the dining room for lunch. Well, brunch for Crispin. "Where's Y/N?" Alexandra asks, looking at the empty chair beside her. Clearly, the chair looked like it had been empty since last night. The twins stare at each other, then both at Alexandra.

"Diba may pinuntahan siya kagabi?" (Didn't she go out last night?) Alexandra mentions.

The twins both shake their head.

"Hindi niyo alam?" (You guys don't know?)

They shake their heads again.

Without a single word, the three exchanged looks and immediately stood up from their seats, rushing upstairs to Y/N's room.

Alexandra pushed the twins aside and pushed the key into the doorknob, then revealing a dishevled, puffy-eyed Y/N. The twins panicked. It was their first time seeing their beloved sister like this.

Meanwhile, Alexandra investigated her room. Y/N's things were on the floor, messed up sheets, and a broken necklace. She then looks over to Y/N. Still in her clothes, puffy-eyed, and her makeup was smuged. Alexandra already had an idea.

The twins shook her awake, "Y/N!, Y/N!— Gising na!" (Y/N, Y/N— Wake up!) With their loud voices and aggressive shaking, their sister finally woke up.

Immediately, Y/N's head started to pound— it was the alcohol she drank last night. She opened her eyes and saw Alexandra and her brothers. Upon seeing them, she bursted into tears.

—

A few months ago, Y/N dated this guy in her class. She hid this from Alexandra, most especially her brothers because she knew that they would beat her ass.

Alexandra found out about her relationship when she was about to fetch her from school. Hank and the twins were at home, sleeping their asses off after their mission.

Parked outside of Y/N's school, Alexandra was waiting for almost 30 minutes. Usually, Y/N would come out a few minutes after her dismissal— but these past few months have been different. After a few more minutes of waiting, she finally saw Y/N— with someone else.

Y/N was holding hands with a boy around 5'10 in height. They were laughing and they looked very sweet. The boy gave her a peck and she playfully pushed him away, then waving goodbye since she spotted the car.

Hank usually fetched Y/N from school, and she knew that Hank didn't really care about her relationship, so she really didn't feel embarrased whenever she entered the car.

Upon entering the car, she expected Hank to greet her. But she was greeted with Alexandra's voice.

"Boyfriend mo?" (Your boyfriend?) Alexandra looks over to her, and Y/N froze. Her first reaction was to lie about it. "Ha? H-Hindi, Ate! Friends lang kami.." (Huh? N-No! We're just friends..) Embarrased, Y/N tried to make herself busy by pretending to fix something in her bag to keep her distracted.

"Anong friends? Hinalikan ka niya, ah." (What do you mean friends? He kissed you.) She mentions.

"Ah.. Eh.." Y/N struggles to keep her words out. It was very evident.

"Sige na, di naman ako magagalit. Di ko sasabihin sa mga Kuya mo, sikreto lang natin." (It's okay, I won't get mad. I won't tell your brothers, it'll be our secret.)

"Oo.. Boyfriend ko siya, Ate. Malapit na kami mag 6 months." (Yes.. He's my boyfriend, Ate. We've been together for almost 6 months.)

From that day on, Y/N would always tell Alexandra about how her relationship was going. And though Alexandra has never had any romantical partners, she tries her best to give Y/N advice.

—

Tiptoe-ing her way downstairs, Y/N was dressed in her clothes to leave the house, on the way to party with her friends and her boyfriend, Jerome.

She checked her phone, 12:47 AM.

Everyone was most likely asleep at this hour, or so she thought.

"Oh, san ka papunta at ganyan suot mo?" (Hey, where are you going and why are you wearing that?) Y/N jolted and turned around to see Alexandra sitting on the dining table.

"Ah.. Ate.. Kasi may p-party kaming pupuntahan nila Aira.." (Ah... There's this p-party I'm going to with Aira..)

"Sina Aira lang ba? O kasama yung boyfriend mo?" (Is it just Aira? Or your boyfriend is going too?) Alexandra tilted her head in question.

"...Kasama po si Jerome." (...Jerome is coming too.)

Alexandra nodded, signalling her that it was okay for her, as an Ate, to go. "Sige, doble ingat ka, okay? Eto, dalhin mo to." (Be extra careful, okay? Here, bring this.) Alexandra pulls out a self defense keychain from her pocket and throws it at Y/N's direction. "May alarm diyan. If you're in any danger, pindutin mo yung alarm and malalaman ko location mo, pupuntahan kita kaagad." (There's an alarm there. If you're in any danger, press that alarm and I'll be able to know your location, then I'll come and get you.)

"Thanks, Ate! Mag iingat ako. Love you!" (Thanks, Ate! I'll take care. Love you!) Y/N smiled and hugged Alexandra.

Little did she know, Y/N's smile wouldn't last very long.

That night, Y/N saw her boyfriend kissing another girl across the room. She confronted him and he admitted that he had been cheating on her for the past few months. Y/N didn't know what to feel. She didn't wanna call Alexandra because she knew that she would be asleep by now. She didn't wanna talk to her friends either, so she went home.

Once she arrived home, she didn't bother to change or shower. She was so tired. Her body fell on the bed and she instantly cried. sobbing against her pillows to muffle her tears.

—

Basilio and Crispin were clueless about as to why their sister was crying. They consoled her for a few minutes until Alexandra spoke.

"Basilio, Crispin— mag usap tayo sa labas." (Basilio, Crispin— let's talk outside.) Alexandra left the room and waited for the twins to leave as well. Once they left the room, she shut the door.

The twins looked worried— well, afraid, rather.

"May sikreto kaming itinatago ni Y/N sa inyong dalawa.." (Y/N and I have a secret we've been keeping from the both of you..) Alexandra starts off.

"Ano yun, Bossing?" (What is it, Bossing?) The twins replied, obviously curious.

Alexandra knew that if she told the twins, their reaction wouldn't be as violent if it was Y/N who would be telling it instead.

"May boyfriend si Y/N." (Y/N has a boyfriend.)

The twins both drop their jaws, "Ano?!" (What?!) Basilio slaps his hand over his mouth, while Crispin is in complete shock. "Kelan pa, Bossing?" (Since when, Bossing?) Basilio asks with a hint of anger in his voice.

"2 months ago niya sinabi sakin.. Siguro 8 months silang mag jowa." (She told me 2 months ago.. Maybe they've been together for around 8 months.)

"Tangina naman!" (Motherfucker!) Crispin throws a punch to the nearest wall. Alexandra has never seen the twins react like this, especially Crispin.

There was a moment of silence.

"Nahuli ko siyang tumatakas kaninang 12, nag paalam sakin na may pupuntahan na party, kasama boyfriend niya." (I caught her sneaking out earlier at 12, she asked my permission if she could go to a party with her boyfriend.)

"Bat di niyo kami ginising, bossing?" (Why didn't you wake us up, Bossing?) Basilio sighs, "Ayaw niya na malaman nyo na may boyfriend siya, kasi alam niya na magagalit kayo." (She didn't want you guys to find out that she had a boyfriend, because she knew that you guys would get mad.)

"Malamang, bunso namin 'yan eh! Alangan naman pabayaan namin 'yan diba? Eh hindi pa nga namin kilala boyfriend nyan!" (Of course we would get mad, she's our baby sister! Do you think we'd let her get away just like that? We haven't even met her boyfriend yet!" Crispin rambles.

"Mabait naman yung boyfriend niya." (Her boyfriend is kind.) Alexandra defends, "Bossing, 'di naman po yun sapat para ma kumbinsi nyo po kami na pwede po siya magkajowa.." (Bossing, that isn't a sufficient reason to convince us that it's okay for her to have a boyfriend..) Basilio says calmly, but deep down? He was screaming.

Alexandra ignores Basilio's statement, "Ano naman kinaiiyakan niya?" (What is she crying about?) Crispin managed to say despite the emotions he felt about the situation. Alexandra lets out a sigh, "Nag break na siguro sila." (Maybe they broke up.)

"Tangina, sabi ko na nga ba eh." (I fucking knew it.) Crispin mumbles under his breath, while running his fingers through his hair out of frustration.

"Yung sirang necklace na nasa sahig kanina, bigay yun ng boyfriend niya sa kanya. Hula ko, sinira niya kasi break na sila." (The broken necklace on the floor, her boyfriend gave that to her. My guess is that she broke it because they broke up.)

"Anong gagawin natin, Bossing?" (What are we going to do, Bossing?) Basilio asks her, desperate for a solution.

Alexandra wasn't the type to arrange surprises, so she had to think fast.

"Basilio, bumili ka ng Jollibee. Tapos ikaw Crispin, bumili ka ng ice cream. Yung favorite flavor niya ah?" (Basilio, go buy some Jollibee. Then you Crispin, buy some ice cream. Her favorite flavor okay?) Alexandra commands. Even in this situation, the twins had no choice to obey. "Sige po, bossing." (Yes, bossing.) They replied with no hesitation.

—

Crispin was the first one to come back with the ice cream, since the sari-sari store was just by the corner of their street. Obviously, Basilio took the longest— he had to take a tricycle to the nearest Jollibee.

After a few minutes, Basilio arrived with 2 bags of Jollibee. "Antagal mo naman, natunaw na yung ice cream." (Took you long enough, the ice cream already melted.) Crispin complains, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Bat di mo nilagay sa freezer? Parang timang 'to eh." (Why didn't you put it in the freezer? What a dumbass.) Basilo replies, settling the food on the table. Alexandra enters the room, "Andito na pala kayo. Halika na." (You guys are already here. Let's go.)

"Ano bang gagawin natin, bossing?" (What are we going to do anyway, bossing?) Basilio scratches his head out of confusion. "Malamang isusurprise natin." (Of course we're gonna surprise her.) Crispin replies sarcastically. He was still mad about what happened.

The trio went upstairs, Basilio and Crispin carrying the ice cream and Jollibee. Alexandra knocked on Y/N's door. "Bunso?" She says in a loving voice. No reply on the other side of the room. Maybe she went back to sleep again. "Papasok kami ng mga kuya mo ah?" (Your brothers and I will enter okay?) Alexandra turns the doorknob open.

Y/N turns around to see her Ate and Kuyas enter her room quietly, "Ate Alex.." She croaks out, "May dala kami ng mga kuya mo para sayo.." (Your brothers and I brought some food for you..) Alexandra gestures to the food that the twins bought. Y/N sits up from her current position, rubbing her eyes.

Basilio frowns and sets the food on her study table, then sitting beside her on the bed. "Halika nga.." (Come here..) Basilio takes his beloved sister into his arms, caressing her back to calm her sobs. "K-Kuy-ya.." She manages to say inbetween sobs, but Basilio hushes her and rocks her softly.

Alexandra elbows Crispin, who is still standing by the door. "Alam kong galit ka sa amin, pero yakapin mo naman kapatid mo." (I know that you're mad at the both of us, but go hug your sister.) Crispin realizes this and sighs. He walks over to Y/N and Basilio, who are both still locked in an embrace. Y/N felt the other side of the bed sink, she pulls herself away from the hug and turns to face Crispin.

Crispin had a disappointed yet concerned look on his face. Without any words, he pulls her into his chest, enveloping her into a hug. Y/N was sobbing like crazy. Her brothers have never seen her like this, ever. They didn't know how to react. They tried to calm her down— Crispin was still hugging her, caressing her back, while Basilio brushed her hair.

Alexandra sat on the farther edge of the bed, giving the siblings their space. Once Y/N calmed down, Alexandra spoke. "Gusto mo ba ikwento samin yung nangyari..?" (Are you comfortable telling us about what happened..?)

Y/N wipes her tears, "Nakita ko si Jerome na may ka halikan na iba-a.. T-ta—" (I saw Jerome kissing someone else-e.. T-th—) She sobs, unable to form her sentence properly.

Basilio caresses her back to help her calm down, "Dahan-dahan lang, bunso.. Hinga ka lang.." (Slowly, bunso.. Just breathe..)

Crispin frowns, "—Tapos kinausap ko siya sa labas nung venue.. Matagal na daw siyang nag ch-cheat sa akin.." (—Then I talked to him outside.. He's been cheating on me for a long t-time..)

Crispin's eyes almost bulged out of his eye sockets out of shock, Basilio's mouth hung open, and Alexandra's eyebrows raised.

"Ha?!?" The three said.

Y/N nodded hesitantly.

"Aba tangina pala ng Jerome na yan eh! Ano ba itsura nyan?" (Well fuck that son of a bitch Jerome! What does he even look like?) Crispin retorts, Alexandra grabs Y/N's phone from the floor and hands it to her. Y/N searches for a somewhat decent picture of her now ex-boyfriend on her phone, and once she did, she showed her brothers.

Jerome wasn't too good looking, he wasn't too bad looking either. He was okay— or saks lang, some would say.

"Panget naman niyan, panget din siguro ka bonding." (He's ugly, he probably isn't fun to bond with.) Basilio jokes, "Gago oo nga, ang panget. Mas pogi pa kami ng kuya mo diyan eh! Masaya pa kami ka bonding." (Damn, he is ugly. Your brother and I are more handsome than that guy! We're fun to bond with too.) Crispin strikes a pose, which made his sister smile.

Alexandra looks at the picture, then giving a disapproving look at her. "Ang panget nga. Pumangit ba siya? Di naman ganyan itsura nyan nung nakita ko." (I agree, he is ugly. Did he get uglier? He didn't look like that when I met him.) The three siblings laugh.

"Uuuy, ngumiti na siya! Yieee!" (Ooo, she's smiling!) Basilio teases her, poking her side. Crispin joins in and starts tickling her side and neck. Y/N tried to hide her laughter, but she failed. "Kuya Crispin— Kuya Basilio! Tama na!" (Kuya Crispin— Kuya Basilio! Stop it!) She giggles, then Basilio and Crispin finally stop.

"Halika na, kain na tayo ng Jollibee! May ice cream din!" (Come, let's eat Jollibee! There's ice cream too!) Basilio stands up to get the food from her table, Crispin and Alexandra help him set up the food.

"Nood tayo ng movie!" (Let's watch a movie!) Y/N suggests, Crispin and Basilio agreeing. "Anong movie, bunso?" (What movie, bunso?) Basilio asks, "Horror nalang." (Let's watch horror.) Y/N flashes a devilish smirk, because she knew that her brothers were afraid.

Alexandra walks over to her and gives her food, then sitting beside her. "Thank you, Ate!" Y/N flashes Alexandra a smile. The twins follow after Alexandra, sitting on the farther end of the bed with their food in hand.

Y/N turns on the TV to find a horror movie to watch, then she clicks on a random one just for fun. "Ano plot neto?" (What's the plot of this movie?) Basilio says while chewing, "Ewan ko Kuya.. Kinlick ko lang yan eh." (I don't know, Kuya. I just clicked on it.) Y/N shrugs, eating a spoonful of rice.

—

The rest of the day went great. After the movie, the trio stayed in Y/N's room all day. They played games, watched weird documentaries, and karaoke.

"Happy ka na?" (Are you happy now?) Alexandra asks Y/N as they watched the twins sing a duet.

Y/N smiled. At that moment, she realized that she was more than thankful to have two crazy twin brothers, and a sister that would always be there for her.

"Yup, Happy na ako. Thank you, Ate." (Yup, I'm happy now. Thank you, Ate.)

—♡—

o diba sabi ko sa inyo cute to 😴 i apologize if my translations are somewhat inaccurate! i tried my best to translate it well :((

*for the non-filo readers:

Kuya: what you call a guy/male sibling who is typically older than you. (ex. Kuya Crispin)

Ate: what you call a girl/female sibling who is typically older than you. (ex. Ate Alex)

Bunso: used by older family members as a nickname for the younger members of the family. (Bunso means the youngest member of the family)

no tags bc i dont have filo trese moots yet <\3

—♡—

also, i'm opening my requests for trese! i'll be keeping my requests for ahs and gotham closed for the mean time.

*UPDATE AS OF JUNE 29, 2021:

hi!! i have recieved an overwhelming amount of trese reqs! i am very grateful for each one. pleasr expect more trese content! <3

#trese #trese fandom #trese imagine #basilio x reader #basilio imagine #crispin x reader #crispin imagine #trese kambal #the kambal #crispin and basilio #basilio and crispin #alexandra trese #alexandra trese x reader #alexandra trese imagine #trese spoilers #trese 2021 #trese komiks #basilio trese #crispin trese #trese x reader

[annabethy]

grocery stores

in which annabeth is in a grocery store and accidentally leaves her phone with the most attractive boy she’s ever seen,, percabeth,, accidentally deleted the ask lol

Annabeth has never been someone to particularly enjoy shopping. It’s too boring in her opinion, just walking around a store with people that seem just as done with life as her, and she usually does whatever it takes to get out of it.

When she gets to the point that even she can’t scrap up something to eat out of her fridge, she decides it’s probably for the best that she goes shopping just this once. Annabeth doesn’t even bother changing out of her clothes, just throwing a sweater to protect against the biting wind and calling it a day.

The walk through the grocery store is exactly as she expects it to be. It’s entirely too cold in the produce section, and she doesn’t think that she’s ever been so bored in her entire life. She tries to hurry along as fast as she can, but there seems to be someone standing in front of every single item that she needs, so it takes a lot longer than it probably should.

It’s not until she’s dumping an armful of items onto a conveyor belt that she decides grocery shopping may not be as bad as she initially thought because the boy standing at the register is downright beautiful.

Annabeth’s fingers twitch as though compelled to pull her phone out of her pocket and take a picture to send to Piper – Piper would no doubt appreciate the art that is the boy’s face – but she restrains herself. There’s still two people in front of her so she settles for letting her eyes trace over his figure while he’s distracted.

His hair is black and looks incredibly soft, and she wants nothing more than to run her fingers through it. She can see his side profile, and his jawline is sharp enough to cut. Stubble lines his chin, and the muscles of his arms ripple with each movement to scan an item. Annabeth is by no means looking subtly, but he doesn’t acknowledge it.

Annabeth is so deep in thought, biting her lip, that she doesn’t even notice him looking up until his eyes lock on hers. She jumps at the shocking gaze he gives her; his eyes are a vibrant green, and even from where she stands, she can see the dark green outline of his irises. He appears a bit shocked, his movements helping his customer faltering slightly before he resumes and looks away from her with no reaction.

Her face flushes deeply, and she considers leaving her stuff and simply walking away before deciding that would be even more damaging to her ego. It’s not long at all before she’s at the register and the boy – Percy, she reads – starts grabbing her items.

“So,” Annabeth starts, biting her lip. She wants to say something to ease the tension she can feel quickly building. “I don’t know if you saw, but…”

He smiles tightly, interrupting her with the piercing beep of the scanner. “I saw.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking at you, though. I was just–” She cuts off, aware of how lame her excuse seems.

“Looking through me?” he suggests kindly.

She opens her mouth to respond but snaps it shut when she notices the gleam in his eyes. She brushes her hair behind her ear, suddenly aware of what she’s wearing, before she places her phone down on the counter just so she has something else to do than look at him.

“Sure,” she says. “Let’s go with that.”

“Was the image behind me fascinating?” he asks, lazy and amused.

“It was absolutely enthralling,” she says sarcastically.

“Yes, my… not-face tends to do that to people.”

Annabeth laughs lightly. “Your face is not that good,” she lies.

“That’s why you were staring at me the second you set your stuff down, right?”

“I was not.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not my fault,” she defends. “You have a nice jawline.” He pauses his movements to blink at her. “Jawline?”

“Uh.”

“It’s alright,” he tells her, resuming the scanning. She notices that he seems to be going slower than he was minutes ago, and she tries not to think much of it. “I don’t mind when cute people stare at me.”

“Oh? Do you get lots of cute people staring at you?”

“None as cute as you,” he says. His eyes burn into hers, and she’s confident that he’s just as captivated by her as she is by him. “You’re something else.”

“You can tell that from a minute of conversation?”

“I’m good with words,” he says.

That, you are, she thinks. He’s making her feel butterflies in her stomach with nothing more than the simplest of words. He’s finished scanning her things, and her smile drops when he tells her the total, disappointed that their fleeting interaction is almost over.

She grabs the bag from his hand once her card goes through, and her fingers tingle as they touch his slightly. Annabeth half expects him to say something more, but he doesn’t say anything else. He just smiles kindly, and she takes a step back.

“Have a good day,” he says.

“You too,” she says as she turns. Though she’s disappointed, she can’t help the excitement that’s coursing through her. Annabeth’s already thinking of if she should go back the next day under the guise of forgetting something, and again the day after. It’s silly but it was genuinely one of the best interactions she’s had in a while.

She’s halfway down the block when she decides to text Piper about the attractive boy she’s just met, so she moves the bags to one hand to grab the phone from her hoodie’s pocket with the other. She’s thinking of how to word it as she reaches into the pocket, and–

The phone isn’t there.

She stops dead in her tracks as panic begins to take over. She’d had it when she started talking to Percy. She set it down on the counter before paying and then… she had never picked it up.

“Great,” she hisses, turning to look over her shoulder. It only takes her two seconds to decide she has to go back. She’s already imagining how stupid she’s going to look for leaving her phone right in front of him, and she really didn’t feel like embarrassing herself any further in front of him.

When she talks back in the sliding doors of the small store, he’s no longer by the registers. Instead, he’s wandering the aisles, seemingly organizing some of the shelves. She desperately doesn’t want to, but he’s the easiest way to find her phone, so she accosts him slowly.

She’s about to tap him on the shoulder when he turns around, his eyes lighting up with recognition. “There you are! I was expecting you.”

She shifts her feet. “Yeah, I left my phone here on accident and just need it back.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out what is identical to her phone, waving it in her face. “You mean this phone?”

“That’s the one,” she confirms. She reaches towards it but he pulls away before she can grab it.

“How do I know this is yours?” he asks teasingly.

“You watched me set it down earlier.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. “A dear customer pointed it out several minutes after you left, actually. I have no way to know if it’s really yours.”

She scowls, trying to snatch it. He just moves further. “Give me my phone, Percy.”

He laughs at her attempt to say his name scathingly. “What’s your name?”

She crosses her arms. “Annabeth.”

“Well, Annabeth, I’m going to need you to prove that this is your phone.”

She sighs, exasperated, but he says it with a smile on his face so she knows he’ll give it back soon enough. She decides to play along with his game. “How do you expect me to do that?”

He hums, pretending to think. “Perhaps you can give me your number so I can call it from my phone. You know, to see if it’s really yours?”

“Subtle.”

“I wasn’t aware we were going with subtle today, Annabeth. I mean, the way you were staring at me earlier wasn’t very subtle.”

Her lips pull up in a smile. “I guess I have to give you my number then. So you can make sure it’s really my phone because you totally didn’t see me set it down earlier.” Percy chuckles, and she finds she really appreciates the way he makes the room seem brighter. “I guess so.”

And she does. He wastes no time in putting her number in his phone as she whispers the numbers into his ear, and it doesn’t go unnoticed when he saves her as a contact. He presses call, and, of course, her phone starts to ring in his hand.

She snatches it from him, and he lets her this time. She picks it up and slides the bar to answer. “Hello?”

“Is this Annabeth? From the grocery store?”

“It is,” she says, eyeing him with a grin that matches his. “Am I good to have my phone back now?”

“Not quite. I just need one more piece of information. To make sure this is really your phone and all.”

“Giving a ten digit phone number wasn’t enough?”

“Odds of guessing it are too high,” he says.

“You must not be good at permutations then.” “I don’t know what a permutation is.”

Annabeth bites her lip to stifle a giggle. “What did you have to ask?”

“Well, now that I have your phone number, I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. My treat.”

“Dinner?”

“Or lunch, or breakfast. I’ll even do brunch.” With that, he hangs up the call so that he can step closer and talk to her directly. “It’s your choice, Annabeth. And you really don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Who says I don’t want to?”

“I’m just giving you the option to say no.”

He’s looking at her with such hope, and she doesn’t think she has it in her to say no because he’s gorgeous and kind and has an amazing sense of humor. She thinks that it has the chance to turn into something so full of love if she gives it a chance.

“I’d love to,” she says.

“Breakfast, lunch, or brunch?”

“What happened to dinner?”

“We can do all four of them,” he says.

She grins, her chest blossoming with warmth at this perfect boy standing before her. “I’m holding you to that.”

Percy doesn’t disappoint.

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| ONE

*gif not mine

TWO

SUMMARY: You, at such young age made your way in business becoming a successful one. With that a lot of jealousy and rivalry came. Your mother finally convinces you to hire a team of security just in case someone tried to hurt you. And that’s when Donghyuck becomes your personal bodyguard, following you everywhere you go. You don’t mind at all since you find him very entertaining and nice. What you don’t know is that he’s the one that has been hired to keep you close and kill you.

PAIRING: reader x bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of jaemin and taeyong. swearing, blood (i’ll let you know when there are parts with blood mentions), smut, violence, angst

WORD COUNT: 2,8K

7 am. Wake up, take a shower, have breakfast and rush to the office. That was your daily routine and you were used to it. But no that morning. You were getting ready to go to your interview with the TIME Magazine. They were working on an article that would be called “Women Under 30 Are Leading the Pack in Entrepreneurship and Innovation.”

4 years ago, you’d wake up around 9, get ready to go to class and have lunch with your friends, but how does time change, right? Now you were a CEO of your own company with no time for your friends or even yourself. It’s not like you hated it, you liked being a CEO and being recognised by your hard work. It made you proud and wanted to show people that if you really want something and if you work hard for it, you’ll get it.

At the main entrance, you were greeted by the staff and one of them guided you to the room where they interviewed you and took some pictures of you.

That wasn’t your first interview, but you couldn’t feel nervous because you wanted to say the right words to encourage other people.

...

“Lia, I will be back in ten minutes. Can you sort this papers out on my desk?“

“Okay, Boss.”

It was a beautiful sunny day and the office was busy as usual. You were reading the contract at the table trying to get some order into them when the door opened. Nobody just walked into your office without knocking, so of course it had to be…

“Hi mom...” you greeted her.

“Hi sweetheart,” she smirked at you. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” you nodded and placed the papers on the table, “what brings you here, mom?”

“I can’t visit my beautiful daughter?” She put her right hand on her chest.

You giggled. “Of course you can, but I’d love you to call me first.”

You stood and walked towards her, hugging her. “You want some coffee? Water?”

“I’m fine, darling. I just had brunch with a friend,” she smiled and sat in one of the chairs in front of your desk. “Speaking of which, she told me something that got me really upset at you.”

“Why?” You frowned and sat in front of her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re getting death threats, (Y/N)?” She looked at you.

You sighed. “Because they don’t matter. You know I don’t pay attention to that. It’s pointless.”

“We’re not talking about hate comments, (Y/N). Someone is threatening you with killing you.”

“Mom, you don’t have to w-“

“Of course I can, and I will. That’s why I contacted an old friend who used to be the Prime Minister’s bodyguard. He’s gonna meet you tomorrow,” she informed you.

“Tomorrow I can’t, I have a meeting.”

“Then you better make some space or you’ll be seeing me here everyday,” your mom smiled. “This is serious. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’re my baby.”

“I can take care of myself, mom. Please, I don’t want a full team of bodyguards,” you sighed.

“You will only have 2 and you won’t even notice they’re there,” she said and placed a hand on yours. “Please.”

You stared at her for a couple of seconds and then sighed, nodding. “Okay, fine. But it’s temporary.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Later that day, after going home you went to the supermarket to get some groceries and went home. You loved cooking, but you weren’t exactly the tidiest when it came to prepare your delicious meals.

After you ate, you checked your email and realised that your mom’s friend had sent you a file with the two people that would be working with you. Somehow you expected an army of people and that annoyed you, but you thought you could with two people. You didn’t even bother to check the profiles since you knew what their work would be.

You closed your laptop and went to your bedroom. Sometimes you thought your life was boring because you barely talked to someone else. Your last relationship didn’t end well and you were still a little bit hesitant to know someone else. Or scared.

And friends? You didn’t have many, but Lena, Taeyong and Jaemin were always there for you. And so were you.

You knew Lena since you were a toddler, your mother was good friends with her parents and you two got along very well. You met Taeyong in high school when you were trying to find the science room and since he was a senior, he helped you. Everyone used to think Taeyong and you dated, but in fact, you never loved Taeyong that way. You saw him as your older brother and he as his younger sister. And last but not least, you met Jaemin through Taeyong.

At first both of you didn’t get along well since he was all an extrovert and didn’t quite understand you were a little introverted, but he with time understood and stopped forcing you. Then you became the crackheads of the group, always laughing and going out and sometimes getting drunk.

You loved college days.

And love? You met Jaehyun during your first year of college, he was in your economics class and you couldn’t help yourself falling for him. He was charming, funny and so handsome.

Jaehyun was your first everything: your first love, your first boyfriend, your first kiss and the first guy that broke your heart.

You two dated for almost 2 years, but ended when he told you he didn’t love you anymore and didn’t want to hurt you and left.

Months after that, you took the opportunity to go as an exchange student to Japan where you met Yuta. You were never a thing, but both of you had feelings for each other but never went official since you would stay there only for 6 months.

You came back to Korea and graduated, and had no time for love since you were too busy starting your business. But Yuta would come on business trips to Korea sometimes and meet you.

But the last time you saw him was a year ago.

The next morning, a tall man showed up to your office holding a black folder. Everything about him was intimidating and you knew he was your mom’s friend.

“Good morning, Miss (Y/L/N). I’m Kim Hyunwoo,” he extended his hand.

“Hi,” you greeted and you shook hands with him. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Please sit.”

“Thanks,” he said and sat in one of the black chairs in front of your desk. “I sent you an email yesterday, did you read it?”

“I saw it, but didn’t read it. Sorry,” you apologised.

“It’s okay, that's why I brought this,” he placed the black folder on the desk and tossed it to you. “These are the files of the people that will be working with you.”

“Why is it important to check them out? I mean, they’ll be around me 24/7.”

“Because I want you to know their abilities and their tasks.”

You sighed and grabbed the folder opening it. You saw the first man around his 30’s, no emotions showed in his face. Kang Sungho. According to his file he was specialised in driving and trained in evasive driving techniques, such as executing short-radius turns to change the direction of the vehicle, high-speed cornering, and so on.

You passed the next page and saw a picture of a man with tanned golden skin, brown hair and dark eyes. He looked intimidating. He was trained in pretty much everything, from every type of knife to every type of gun.

Impressive.

Suddenly, the door from your office opened and the air left your lungs momentarily when his eyes met yours, dark and calculating. You expected him to offer you a polite smile as most people do, but his face remained in a stern mask. You somehow prayed he wouldn’t be your bodyguard because the less thing you needed was a distraction.

“Miss (Y/L/N),” the voice of your Hyunwoo forced you to switch your gaze to him and you shoot him a questioning look. “This is Lee Donghyuck” the boy nodded slightly in your direction at the mention of his name, “he’s your new personal bodyguard.”

You couldn't help but let your eyebrows raise comically. The world somehow hated you.

“You would not even know I’m here, Miss,” Donghyuck said.

You nodded.

*

Donghyuck awoke to the steady patter of rain upon his window, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the rising sun. He realised he had awoken up ten minutes before his set alarm, which made him grumble.

He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, took a cold shower and after that, Donghyuck put on a black pants and before putting the white shirt, he put on a bulletproof vest making him look thicker and then continued with a white interior t-shirt, a white shirt, put on his tie adjusting it and lastly, he slipped on the black jacket.

Donghyuck gave himself a quick look in the mirror and sighed. He placed his hands on the countertop and asked how did he end in that position?

Yes, he was an assassin.

No, he didn't kill women.

But the money he was offered to do so was such a big amount that was almost repulsive. And he needed the money.

Donghyuck had never pretended to be someone else before, he just showed up and took down his task and then left. Now he was stuck with some random woman and follow her until she was in love with him and kill her in the worst way.

What was with people these days? He didn't want to know.

Jeno was already awake and had made breakfast, “you gotta eat well today in case you die protecting your boss,“ he  joked and sat down in front of him.

Donghyuck and Jeno had known each other for many years and were roommates. There was kindness in his smile, a good man. He knew what ‘Haechan’ did for a living, but decided to ignore it since he rather thought his friend was also a good man.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “I cant believe I'm doing this.”

“You can't still say no, you know?” Jeno looked at him.

“I know, but I need the money,” Donghyuck said and had a sip of coffee, “I will retire after this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don't wanna do this anymore,” Donghyuck shrugged.

“Well, then get the job done and get those millions,” Jeno said and then shook his head, “that sounded awful. Ignore it.”

Donghyuck laughed. “Are you sure you don't wanna work with me?”

“One hundred percent.”

…

A perfectly collected black-haired woman, dressed in a skirt under her white knee and a pale pink blouse appeared in the room. "Good morning, you must be Lee Donghyuck, right?" She asked kindly.

"Yes," Donghyuck replied, "Hello, you are....?"

"I'm Yun Somin, Kim Hyunwoo personal assistant," she smiled nicely. “You’re the new bodyguard we hired a few days ago.”

"Nice to meet you,” Donghyuck expressed.

“Please, come with me so I can give you  your equipment,“ Somin said.

Donghyuck followed her to a room that was an office painted beige and champagne, and it had only one wall-sized window, which faced the buildings. On the dark brown desk sat a desktop computer, a notebook lying open, and a stack of papers sitting under a turtle-shaped paperweight and there was a swivel chair in the middle of the office. A bookshelf, bursting with books was behind the dark brown desk.

Somin opened a desk drawer and pulled out a black box that contained a small stainless steel knife, a Beretta Px4 Storm and finally a earphone for a walkie-talkie.

Donghyuck put the earphone on his ear and the walkie-talkie on the waist band. He put the gun away by placing it on the waist band as well and the knife inside the inner jacket pocket.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s codename is Sunflower. Whenever you’re public, that’s the name you’ll use,“ Somin informed.

Donghyuck nodded, “Sunflower. Got it.“

Somin opened the door for him and let him in. You were if anything was better looking than Donghyuck expected. Your face told of a leaned body beneath your wintry garb and your expression was serious but not unkind.

You were hot.

Fuck. Donghyuck thought. He was so screwed.

“You would not even know I’m here, Miss,” Donghyuck said.

You nodded and cleared your throat.  “Well, let's keep going. We have a long day coming,“You said, walking to the door.

Donghyuck walked behind you and raised his arm above his mouth and spoke into the mic, “Sunflower's going out.“

…

You were the smile, or at least that was what Donghyuck thought of you. Everything about you was a soft and understated joy as you greeted each person at every event. You really cared about the people and their interest and could see in your eyes your uprightness. People loved you and Donghyuck didn't quite understand why someone wanted you dead. Your kindness couldnt be the reason, could it?

“So, Donghyuck, what do you think?”

He turned back to Sungho. “She's different from every shark out there. Yeah, I’ll bet they’re lining up to off her.”

“Well, someone’s been sending some pretty disturbing emails. The NIS can’t pin the guy down.”

“They’ll find them.“ Donghyuck addressed.

The eventful day was over. You all spent the day going to different meetings with several people. You were exhausted but you were happy to see your friend Taeyong, after not seeing him for almost two months.

The black car stopped at a red light and you took the opportunity to take out your phone and reply to some text messages. You realised Donghyuck was looking at you and Donghyuck quickly looked straight ahead. “So, Donghyuck? You have been doing this for so long?”

“Not really, ma’am,“ he responded.

You considered him. He didn’t look like his concept of a bodyguard, big and beefy. He wasn't that tall. Slimy built, with a very attractive face, enigmatic yet intelligent dark eyes and dark hair. “And what did you do before?”

“I… used to train some people at a boxing gym,“ Donghycuk lied.

“Cool,” you smiled. “Maybe you could show me some movements.”

You quickly regretted saying that because of how red your cheeks got. Donghyuck smirked without looking at you.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Donghyuck got out of the car and opened the door for you and you entered the restaurant with him following you.

"Sunflower's in," He spoke into the mic.

A young woman, with loose hair dressed all in black, took you to the restaurant's private lounge, where Taeyong was already waiting for you.

You hugged your friend and smiled, "The Bahamas suited you."

"Thank you, Woman-Under-30-Leading-the-Pack-in-Entrepreneurship-and-Innovation" Taeyong beamed and looked at Donghyuck, who stood with his back to you right at the glass door, "who is he?"

You looked at Donghyuck  and spoke as you sat down, "It's my personal bodyguard."

“Why do you have a personal bodyguard? Did something happen? ” He asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, everything’s fine," you calmed him down and grabbed the menu, opening it.

He sat in front of you and still looked worried, “how do you want me to be calm? Something is going on and you don't want to tell me. "

You smirked a little and shook your head, "really, Taeyong, everything is under control. There’s nothing to be concerned about.“

Taeyong sighed and nodded, "Okay, I will believe in your words."

You smiled satisfied and began to read the menu. Taeyong did the same. Jaemin stood in front of the door of the restaurant's private lounge but Donghyuck prevented him from entering.

"Identify," Donghyuck demanded, looking at him.

"Na Jaemin, owner and chef of this restaurant," he replied, frowning, "who are you?"

Before Donghyuck responded, you opened the door and looked at Jaemin, “I'm sorry, he's my new bodyguard. Lee Donghyuck, all right, he will have dinner with us too. "

Donghyuck nodded, “understood. Enjoy your meal, guys. "

“Thank you,“ Taeyong  responded as Donghyuck closed the door.

“I can't believe the two most influential people of Korea are here in my restaurant,“ Jaemin joked as he sat.

You chuckled, “let’s see if it’s as good as people say.“

…

Softly splashing water droplets hit the car windows as Sungho drove onwards. You watched the raindrops race down to the windows. You had been with Taeyong and Jaemin for almost three hours, and now you were on your way to your house.

"Sorry for staying there for a long time, you haven't even eaten," you  apologised.

“It’s fine, ma’am. It's our job,“ Donghyuck replied.

“You can call me (Y/N). We’re almost the same age,“ You said

“Even so, you’re my boss. It’s not right,“ he responded.

You chuckled and looked at him in the rearview mirror, "Well, then as your boss, I order it to you."

Donghyuck smiled and you noticed it, “I'll try it.“

#haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan smut #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct smut #donghyuck smut

[twinklelilstarkey]

congratulations on 200 angel! sending a request for dad!rafe cameron where he is taking care of his little girl for the first time on his own 💕

A/N: Thank you, my love. Hope you like this.

On His Own - Dad!Rafe Cameron

Words: 3k+

Type: Fluffy

Warnings: I don’t believe there’s any swearing. Female!Reader. Mentions of college, and assignments (I really don’t want to awake anyone’s anxiety at their mention). Possible typos, I’m horrible at proofreading. Gamer!Rafe, Gamer!Kelce and Gamer!Topper.

Y/D/N (your daughter’s name)

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

“Babe, please don’t leave me” Rafe whines, stretching his hand your way as you stand by the doorway of the bedroom, backpack over your shoulder.

“Rafe, I can’t skip any more classes and you know that. I really need you to stay with her” You tell him, looking down at your phone in a small panic since you need to start making your way to college in 2 minutes.

“Isn’t there anyone that you could call to help me?”

“I’ve tried every single friend I have, and everyone is doing something today” You say, letting out a sigh as Rafe starts sitting up on the bed with a scowl on his face. You walk over to his side of the bed and press a kiss on to his lips when leaning over, “She’ll be asleep for at least 2 more hours, you have all the time in the world to start making breakfast and take a shower”

You try stepping away from the bed but Rafe stops you.

“But what if she wakes up before the 2 hours?” He asks, grabbing your hand before you could walk away.

“She knows where she can find you. She won’t get lost,” You say with a small teasing smile, “And all her favorite cartoons play in the morning, so you’ll be fine”

Rafe gives you a tight-lipped smile and you give him one back while giving his hand a small squeeze of reassurance.  

“Love you” You whisper yell on your way out of the bedroom and Rafe falls back on the bed.

“Love you more” He answers, voice back in his usual sleepy tone and muffled by the covers, making a smile stretch over your lips.

(…)

An hour later, Rafe brings himself up from the bed and drags his heavy feet over to the bathroom to take his morning shower. But before he went to grab his clean clothes from his wardrobe, he quickly wrapped his towel around his hips and ran over to the room down the hall, checking on his sleeping baby.

He walks back to the bedroom once somewhat relieved and starts to put on his clothes, which took less time than he expected.

Y/D/N will sleep until she hears something from the kitchen, or even, smells something, and until then, Rafe knows he’s safe to watch or do anything.

He quickly serves himself a mug of coffee before turning on his laptop, and looks over at the closed cabinets, thinking about what he could make for breakfast.

He doesn’t feel as nervous as he felt when you left the house. He knows that his daughter is way too sleepy and calm in the mornings for him to need any help, but he knows, for sure, that he will need that kind of reassurance once lunch time starts.

You had to go to class today, since you’ve been skipping a lot, and also to work on a group project with some of your classmates. And that meant leaving Rafe all alone with your 8-month-old girl that can quickly become the whiniest, clingy, and hyperactive little girl in the world.

Y/D/N can go from the giggly cute girl to a screaming and crying baby in a matter of 10 minutes and Rafe absolutely hates whenever his little girl cries.

You’re always able to make her calm down, yet Rafe always has a hard time because he never knows what to do.

Rafe pulls out Y/D/N’s breakfast (some sort of paste that he even cringed at the sight of) from the fridge and puts it down on the counter, looking for something else for himself.

Notifications from his laptop start popping up with Discord’s sound and Rafe looks over his shoulder to see the notifications coming from Topper and Kelce. They are overly excited for this morning’s talk, as well as, the whole afternoon that they’ll be spending basically gaming away on their pcs.

“Already?” Rafe questions out loud and looks back at the fridge, pulling out the leftovers from brunch of 2 days ago, “This will do”

The sound of a Discord incoming call sounds through the empty kitchen and Rafe ignores its first tones as he grabs his mug and takes a sip of his warm coffee. He lowers the volume and accepts the call.

“Whadup boys?!” Topper shouts, overly excited, making both Kelce and Rafe cringe slightly at him.

“Why this excitement?” Kelce asks before taking a bite of his avocado toast.

“Do you know for how long I’ve been waiting for all of us to be free and just play for a whole day?”

Rafe chuckles and takes his breakfast over to the table, putting it right next to the laptop.

Topper is quick to start a conversation between the boys, asking Rafe about his test from yesterday, but as well about you and your daughter, in which he got simple and quick answers about your whereabouts.

“I’m going to check on her now”

Rafe, as he said those words, gets up on his feet, taking the last sip of his coffee, and walks over to his little girl’s room.

He opens the door widely, making the morning sunlight shine through the small room, giving Rafe a better field of view.

Once he starts taking a few steps closer to the small bed, he’s met by Y/D/N with closed eyes but with her lips forming a wide smile.

“Look who’s awake” He says with his usual playful tone while leaning closer over the small girl.

He presses a kiss on her chubby cheek, marked by the blankets, and her eyes snap open at the feeling.

“Ready to have breakfast?” He asks, knowing very well that she won’t answer this early in the morning unless it is a babble that makes absolutely no sense.

The little girl’s smile widens as Rafe stretches his arms and pulls her out of her bed, making her wiggle her way closer to the warmth of his chest.

Y/D/N snuggles her face between the crook of Rafe’s neck as he walks over to her small window, in hopes to let some more light and fresh air into the room.

The girl hides from the harsh lighting and Rafe is quick to take her to the bathroom.

Once the girl’s face was washed, diaper was changed and as well as clothes, Rafe takes her to the kitchen quickly, knowing very well how hungry she must be.

As soon as the girl hears Topper’s and Kelce’s voices coming from the kitchen, she lifts her head in hopes to see them at the table, but her eyes only meet a laptop and her dad’s dishes. Which was honestly quite disappointing.

Rafe sits her on her highchair, right at the end of the table he’s sitting and turns his laptop her away, seeing her droopy eyes light up at the sight of her “uncles”, who are mindlessly talking about Kelce’s avocado toast.

“Look who it is!” Topper screams again as his eyes laid upon the baby sitting in front of the computer.

Y/D/N slaps the table in excitement as she hears Topper and her toothless smile makes the boys’ awe at her cuteness.

Rafe smiles down at his baby while petting the top of her head, feeling her soft hair. The girl looks up at her dad once feeling his hand and continues giving out her sweet smile and adoring look.

Rafe walks away from the kid and over to the counter of the kitchen and lets the boys look after her (trusting them and their filters to not say anything inappropriate).

He starts heating up slightly his baby’s food and her giggles start to fill the kitchen as soon as Topper starts to make the silly faces he knows that Y/D/N loves.

Rafe scrapes the food off to Y/D/N’s bowl and grabs her favorite spoon from the drawer, before turning back around to the table. The baby girl’s eyes widen at the sight of the bowl and as soon as it is close enough to her reach, she snatched the spoon off it and started giggling loudly with excitement.

Thankfully both you and Rafe decided to spend some money on those bowls with the suction cups at the bottom off of Amazon, because breakfasts always seem to be way too exciting for your little girl.

Rafe turns his laptop a bit to his side so the guys can, now, see him as well and Topper continues their previous conversation, letting the small girl eat alone in peace.

“I don’t know, dude. That guy has been annoying ever since he and your sister started dating” Topper says out loud as Rafe looks at the mess next to him.

“Wait, we were talking about John B this whole time?” Kelce asks.

“Yeah! He thinks he’s a kook now. All dressed up to events and always on the Cameron’s boat”

As the two men talked, Rafe found a new sort of amusement: his daughter and how happily she’s eating. Since it surely is better than hearing Topper bitch about his sister’s new boyfriend. He doesn’t care what is going back on the island, he moved for a reason. And he does not want to have anything to do with the Outer Banks anymore.

“What about you, Rafe?”

“What?”

“Are you and Y/N going to this year’s Midsummers?” Kelce asks.

“Nah” Rafe says, laying his arm over the back of Y/D/N’s chair.

“Why not?”

“I prefer to stay at home with my girls than go to an event in that island, thank you very much”

As his sarcastic end of his sentence sounded past his lips, Topper was quick to change the theme of conversation, not wanting to go into serious mode this early in the morning.

(…)

“Baby, don’t touch that,” Rafe says while sitting at his desk, muting himself on discord for the possible hundredth time.

Y/D/N looks over her shoulder at her dad and pouts slightly at his warning. She just wants to feel what’s on top of mommy’s bedside table.

The girl sloppily walks away from the table and goes sit back down close to her dad, where her toys are. Rafe’s eyes stay on the little girl as she holds a pout on her lips, visibly upset over being rejected such an exciting experience (feeling and, eventually, letting your alarm clock fall off the table).

“Don’t be sad, princess. I just don’t want you to get hurt” Rafe emphasizes but doesn’t even get a look from the girl.

He looks back at the screen of his gaming computer, still waiting for Topper or Kelce to revive him in-game, and sighs out loud as the two of them hysterically scream, “THERE’S ANOTHER TEAM! ANOTHER TEAM! PUSH BACK! PUSH BAAAAACK”.

“We’ll get you back, Rafe, give us one second,” Kelce says.

“Alright,” He says, unmuting for just that second.

Rafe leans back on his chair, eyes moving from his screen to Y/D/N and he almost freaks out when he notices the trembling of her chin.

“No, no, no, no” He says, taking his headphones off in a quick movement and throwing them to the desk before getting up. Y/D/N lifts her teary eyes over at her dad and stretches her arms up right away.

He picks up the girl from the floor and as soon as she was close enough, she hid her face on his chest as she let out some whiny sounds, close to actual tears and loud sobs.

Rafe takes back his seat at the desk and holds his emotional daughter with one arm as he puts his headphones back on, hearing both Topper and Kelce keep screaming right away.

“Why you crying, baby?” Rafe asks, moving his hand up and down the small girl’s back to comfort her, “There’s no reason to cry”

Those words were enough to worsen the situation. Y/D/N in that same second, stood up on her feet in her dad’s lap, little fists grabbing his shirt tightly and eyes filled with tears.

Probably as her way to show true frustration but failing as she keeps losing her balance.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, helplessly looking at the girl expecting some kind of sign that would show him her reasoning. “Do you really want mamma’s alarm clock?”

The little girl shakes her head violently and falls back onto her dad’s chest, letting a small sob escape her lips.

“Food? Do you want food? Are you hungry?” He asks before starting to move his hand on her back.

No answer, just a louder whine, sounding as she’s getting more frustrated.

“Sleep? Do you want to go to bed?”

Yet another no.

“Rafe, you there?” Topper asks, noticing the silence coming from his (possible) close-to-tilting friend.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here, just talking to Y/D/N” Rafe answers before muting himself back up.

Rafe looks down at his baby girl once more and she looks absolutely heartbroken.

Over what? He has no idea.

He presses a kiss onto the side of her head and the girl leans in closer once feeling it.

“Do you want me to call mommy?” He asks in a whisper.

Y/D/N lifts her head off Rafe’s shoulder right on that second and she quickly nods, with her pouty lips and red chubby cheeks, wet by her tears.

Rafe takes his phone out of his pocket in a quick movement and unlocks it in record time.

And even though he is being the quickest he could, for the little girl on his lap, it felt like it was taking the whole eternity.

As soon as Rafe starts calling you on facetime, he just starts praying that you’re not in class or occupied with something too important.

He turns the phone to his side on his hands so that only Y/D/N’s face was on the screen and the little girl seems paralyzed with her reflection for a quick second.

Once Rafe hears the sound of you answering the call, he almost gasps and sighs in relief at the same time.

“Oh, hi princess!” You say over the phone as you noticed the sad looking girl on your screen, “What’s wrong? Did daddy do anything bad?”

Rafe stares at the girl silently, watching her eyes lift up with happiness at the sound of your voice and the use of the teasing tone. A babble comes off her mouth, something you’re sure neither you nor Rafe understood, and her eyes start filling up with tears again.

“Oh, baby don’t cry” You say once noticing her small chin quivering.

Rafe decides to change positioning as soon as he notices the girl slightly sliding down his lap, and he positions his phone on the desk, making it stand up by some of your books, and making sure only the small girl and his chest appeared.

The girl turns to follow her mom’s face on Rafe’s phone and sits on his thigh while leaning back onto his chest.

“She said she isn’t hungry or tired” Rafe explains as you continue to look at the screen with a worried expression.

He notices that you must be sitting in a random bench somewhere as you look around you and the phone’s camera tilts a bit to the sky.

“Rafe, MOVE! You can’t be AFK the whole round!” Kelce says loudly, making Rafe take off his headset and setting it down on the desk.

“And I also told her to not touch your bedside table” Rafe continues the explanation while setting a hand at his baby’s stomach so she stops sliding down his thigh, again.

You start to think silently of what would’ve made your baby so upset but you just can’t think of anything.

She isn’t hungry nor tired, she’s getting her dad’s attention and has all her toys.

“Maybe she just misses you” Rafe says, making you snap back to reality.

“But she never is like this when we’re both out and she’s with the babysitter”

Rafe sighs once feeling his small baby grab onto his hand tightly, just like she does with her toys.

“What should I do?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” You start but stop for a few seconds to think, “Honestly, just try to make her watch some videos or one of her favorite shows. Maybe she’s just bored”

You two talk for a bit more before you had to finish the call and run to class, and Y/D/N sat through the whole conversation just watching you and Rafe.

Rafe decided to do as told and go grab your iPad (where every single cartoon episode is saved in) to try and entertain Y/D/N.

And thankfully, as soon as Rafe positioned the iPad on the desk next to his screen with his daughter’s favorite cartoon already playing, a smile spread over the girl’s cheeks and her eyes are no longer holding the sad stare.

Rafe readjusts the kid on his leg so that she can sit more comfortably, and puts his headphones back on, letting one of his ears out so that he can hear anything that Y/D/N says.

“I’m back” Rafe says, unmuting himself, and starts moving in the game again.

(…)

“What about this one?” Rafe asks his daughter and she shakes her head violently, almost choking in her own sob. “Okay…”

Rafe puts the snack back in the cabinet and stretches his hand in to try and look for something else that would satisfy the small girl.

“And this?” He asks, “Do you want waffles?”

The girl stares at him for a second and then nods, a smile growing out of nowhere.

“Can you even eat waffles?”

The girl doesn’t answer back as she grabs her toy from beside her and playfully slams it on the small table attached to the highchair.

Rafe drops the waffles in the toaster and pushes the button down before turning back to the girl.

She looks so carefree that it doesn’t even seem like she was just screaming her lungs out. Her cheeks are still wet with previous tears but the mention of food (and the sight of it) was enough to make her forget about everything.

Both of them patiently wait for the waffles to pop back up from the toaster and as they do, both Rafe and Y/D/N look over at the hallway at the sound of the front door of the apartment open.

That only means one thing…

Their savior (mommy) is home.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #outer banks #netflix outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #dad!rafe #dad!rafe cameron

[what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me]

The Haunting of Thomas Sanders 

> Part 1 < Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Nico was beginning to think his new boyfriend was haunted by ghosts. He never planned to bring it up until the ghosts themselves came to him asking for help.

[AO3]

CW: food mention, alcohol mention, past breakup

Notes: Based off this text post I made. 

.

Nico had come to the mall for inspiration.

Anything to get out of his office would help him at this point, really. The meetings he had to go to were stifling any new ideas and the nosey, pompous co-workers were worse. The writer did not know what he was looking for, but what else brought people to malls? Maybe a new outfit would uncover confidence , maybe indulging in greasy food would be that final click he seemed to lack, maybe people-watching would offer the right story. Nico's bets were not on the last one.

The mall was not as busy as it once had been. When he was still a teen it was a lively place bustling with a constant traffic of people. Walking through shops offered hours of new stimulation and the hallways were towering, intricate skylights the crowning jewel. As time went on Nico got older and things changed. Online shopping is easier than anything and a fair few of the shops were closed down for good.

Nevertheless it was his favorite place to write if he had to choose. The buzz of energy helped him focus on work. Nico found peculiar security in being an irrelevant face in a crowd of hundreds, and knowing that each person had a life he could never even imagine opened floodgates of inspiration. The 'What if's?' and 'Why's?" he asked himself when people-watching could get the ball rolling.

Now there were less faces, less stories. Nico did not appreciate the way this shift reflected in his work. The difference was noticeable, and he struggled more with deadlines, but he worked with what he had.

He learned to pay attention to individuals more. However, currently what he had was waiting for his food, because at this point he might have more luck finding inspiration in eating then in others. There had only been a toddler throwing a tantrum, a teen scrolling on their phone, and a man who sat down across from him at the food court-

Oh hello, inspiration.

If Nico was staring, the only reason he got away with it was his laptop blocking his line of sight. He saw all he needed out of the corner of his eye. The floral shirt was extremely flattering, and if he wasn't mistaken he could see the outline of muscles. That brown hair looked fluffy, and what he would give to run his fingers through it while- Okay, Nico, you might be gay but that thought isn't for a stranger .

He could not even see his eye color. And the man in the floral shirt was eating, interrupting his meal would be rude. Maybe there was a way to make this still work? As his waitress got to his table and dropped off his food, he subtly turned his pinned-covered backpack in the direction of the stranger. If Mr. Handsome did not answer his silent plea then he would move on.

He tossed a fry into his mouth instead of letting himself think.

Maybe he had got his hopes up when the guy came in his direction, only to walk up to a Karrot King line. When the writer saw the man in the floral shirt inspect the plant, he wondered if he liked botany. Finally the same useless hope happened again when they made admittedly awkward eye contact for a few seconds. So he has brown eyes. The guy turned away rather fast so Nico dropped it. Maybe showing a pride pin made the guy uncomfortable and it was to good to be true.

Only when he heard a CRASH and saw somebody fall into a garbage can, did he finally get an idea about what to write. That was a metaphor he could spin into a story. Certainly it was not at all because he felt trashy for a missed opportunity. Nor was it due to that cute guy having disappeared, leaving his food uneaten.

Wait . You can still make this work, Flores.

He scarfed down the rest of his food and discarded the trash. Nico's fast pace to get to the table with the food turned a few heads, but he ignored it. Greasy bag in hand, he browsed the crowd for that familiar pattern. Every person wearing a floral shirt was either an older lady or a child. Nico swayed on the balls of his feet as he contemplated what to do next, but then he saw him coming out of the restroom.

Bingo!

None of what happened after went as planned. Serves him right for letting his overactive imagination create unrealistic expectations.

He should have known trying to do small talk with strangers would only backfire. After Nico had called out after him to return the food, he had tried to ask what made him leave in a rush to forget his food. Then the guy asked what was wrong with him and Nico dropped it. He gave the stranger his well-wishers and left afterwards. He would honestly rather head back to work then be here right now.  

No matter if he was admittedly cute, Nico Flores probably would have been mad at the man if he did not look like he was on the verge of a public anxiety attack. He was probably starving, too, if he had forgotten his lunch.

The man in the floral shirt hesitated behind him, running after Nico.

When they actually sat down to talk together, the man in the floral shirt - Mr. Sanders, Thomas - was quite charming. And funny. And intelligent. Oh, when he had called Thomas an inspiration earlier he had meant it. He just met a singer and an actor, is there a more perfect match to a writer and poet?

Leave it to his imagination to think of a man he just met reciting the poems and lovingly singing songs he writes.

The two had talked for over two hours without noticing. They had bounced ideas off of each other and Nico made an impressive amount of progress. He felt so giddy with just this one interaction! Nico was sad that they had to leave; Thomas seemed just as reluctant to part.

"Well you didn't get to eat much today at lunch right?"

Thomas fiddled with his fingers, "Yeah…"

Nico did not let himself second guess himself , he offered, "Then let me buy you dinner tonight!"

As a breath caught in Thomas' throat, Nico was self conscious that he might have said something wrong, but the heavy blush across the other man's face was not of offence or horror at all. Thomas was smiling at him again.

Finding ways to make Thomas go speechless was going to be his new favorite pastime… if Thomas would give him a chance, he decided. Just that alone lit a fire inside him, and later when he finished with writing for work, he would write some more. All he would be writing about would be this, a collection of poems to free these butterflies in his stomach. Thomas seemed to look around for approval from anybody else and nodded quickly

"I'd love to go with you, Nico! Maybe we can uh- get to know each other better?" Oh man, it was flattering to have somebody so cute get so nervous at him of all people.  

"Only if I could get to know the digits on your phone number better," he confirmed with a playful grin. It might have been cheesy, certainly. But he was also the person who told Thomas that they would not waste this opportunity. Pretending he was not corny now would be a lie.

Thomas taking his cliché advances in stride only made him more hopeful.

.

.

They both later met at a local bar and grill close to the beach. A salty sea breeze tousled his hair and the palm leaves. The hour was close to sunset, too hot for the mosquitoes to bug them but not too hot for the two of them to eat outside.

"I'm looking for a table for two? RSVP'd under the name 'Flores'?" He asked. The waitress nodded, sat him down with a menu. Thomas was not there, and a part of him wonders if he is getting stood up. Nico, not particularly interested in looking at food yet, fiddled with his laptop. He sighed because even If that was the case, Nico would try to make the most of the night.

The waitress brought Thomas to the table a few minutes later. The writer's heart soared before worry took root. Thomas was wearing that same expression from earlier that day on his face. He anxiously explained. "I'm so, so sorry for being late. And i totally get if you don't want me here and would prefer to just call this all off. I didn't mean to show up late, but then as I was about to leave my apartment I- my keys just-"

Nico grabbed one of Thomas' hands and smiled reassuringly. "Hey, I'm not angry you got here late."

Thomas really did look cute flustered, but he did not let go of the hand. Instead he ran his thumbs along his knuckles. "I'm happy you're here with me. Wanna order a drink and maybe share an appetizer with me?"

They both chatted about foods they disliked while waiting. Thomas hated carrots with a passion as it turned out, and he made a mental note to tease him about going to a Karrot King. Nico in turn talked about his dislike for most seafood and mushrooms because of the slimy texture. The waitress came and both agreed on a sampler platter to share.

"Mimosas at sunset?" He inquired.

Thomas smiled nervously. "I usually save them for brunches, with friends. All the other options I like are too much if I want to drive home tonight."

Nico nodded, understanding.

Just like in the food court, Talking with Thomas made time go past without him even noticing. They tried out food together, talked about music, and that led Nico into telling a story about a Highschool band. Thomas was red in the face and giggling uncontrollably by the time they paid for the check and had to leave.

They left the building together when Thomas stopped him. "There's a park around the corner. We can feed the ducks some leftovers."

If Nico noticed that Thomas was not ready to say bye just yet, he did not say it. The last of the sun was behind the horizon by the time they went through a breadstick. Watching Thomas interact with the ducks gave him the idea that this man loved animals. They were cute, he would admit, but nature found other ways to ruin his mood.

Nico laughed at himself, pulling his arms closer into his body. "I almost wish I dressed up a bit more. I didn't expect the mosquitoes to be this bad."

"I know it's warm out, but I can lend you a jacket?"

Nico did a double take at what Thomas was holding up. It was black with plaid sleeves, already oversized so it wouldn't have a problem fitting Nico. It honestly looked very comfortable, and it would keep him from being bit, but comfort wasn't what he was caught up on.

"Being warm beats being eaten alive."

When the fuck did Thomas have an extra jacket on him? Did he really not notice it?

He hesitated, and then asked a whole entirety different question. "Are you sure I can take this? I won't be able to return it to you tonight."

Thomas insisted, "Please, I don't mind- I don't need it. And you can keep it for tonight, or until we see each other again?"

Nico put the jacket on and it was soft. And it smelled like the cologne Thomas was wearing. Oh this was nice. "When will that be, Thomas?"

Thomas let his eyes linger on Nico in his jacket. "Saturday I'm free, I think. We could have brunch together, even."

He smiled. "Saturday sounds wonderful."

.

.

When they first had met, being infatuated was easy. It came to the pair more natural than breathing.

Nico originally did not know if his relationship with Thomas Sanders would go anywhere. But the first meeting had been so promising. And then they had a brunch date at Thomas' place, then a second and a third. Maybe… maybe Nico was moving too fast. Things kept going well nonetheless.

Four, five, six, seven. They kept on hanging out. Going out. They wanted to see more and more of each other. Quickly they were amassing a horde of good memories together. During nights away, they loved to text and call each other. They never put a label on what they did, which was starting to bother him. It felt more intimate than friendship. Were these dates?

According to his family, yes. They had noticed his change in mood and lack of free time quickly and demanded explanation. He kept it vague, but got advice anyways. Mama Flores said it was ridiculous that he had not brought Thomas by to meet the famila. Hid Papa was more doubtful. Even though it has been years since Nico's last major failed relationship, his father was still worried.

Papa Flores was a proud man, so it left a bad taste in his mouth when he requested Nico to take more time before giving his heart away. He had to oblige. Nico was over it, he healed, but some of his family was not. Nico's ex was like a second son to Papa, and everybody was hurt by him.

Call him cliché, but Thomas was different.

Even when Nico was past the stage of infatuation, Thomas took his breath away.

Could you be infatuated by somebody you have not actually kissed yet? It felt like it. Sure, when they had met at that food court, he had his breath taken away, and that feeling intensified when they saw each other more. He knew infatuation could feel like love, but these feelings passed the test of time and matured into something deeper. With more meaning. He did not like just the idea of Thomas and what their future might look like, he liked Thomas for his presence and as a person.

Suddenly his worries that they were moving too fast turned into frustrations they were moving too slow. They were more intimate than regular friends, but they never got far enough to be considered partners. It was frustrating to figure out. Nico was ready for a relationship, he was certain. The three months he spent getting to know Thomas were blissful, and calling their dates only "hangouts" had begun to feel forced.

So they talked about it.

Thomas said he was also ready but his actions seemed more… hesitant. He mentioned somebody from his past, who he moved on from but never could forget. Nico wanted to ask, to find out what happened to his heart for him to be so afraid. He knew what it felt like to have scars that still hurt, he wanted to be there for Thomas as he healed.

But that was not the time for the conversation. Not when Nico was nearly on Thomas' lap and his arms hung around his neck. Not when Thomas met his eyes and Nico stared at them for too long. It could have been him trying to figure out what emotions they held, maybe Thomas' eyes were that beautiful. His friend -- boyfriend? -- got so anxious and trapped in his head easily, but Thomas seemed in control of his more scary thoughts in that moment. It brought a smile to his face, unnoticed between the way they were slowly moving closer.

Still, cautious and vulnerable, eager and loving, Thomas had let Nico kiss him. Finally getting to show Thomas just how much he wanted to cherish him was amazing. And receiving that same passion in return was intoxicating.

Getting an answer never felt so good.

Nico's more-than-friendly feelings were not the only thing that was starting to add up in regards to Thomas either. There were strange happenings, though were so minuscule he had nothing tangible to go off of.

Thomas might be really good at sneaking things past Nico's eyes, common sense would say. Intuition told himself not to doubt what he saw. Thomas did not have that spare jacket on their first date originally. It literally had to of appeared from thin air. And when Thomas invited him for brunch, he noticed that two of the mimosas Thomas had prepared with brunch had vanished. Sometimes he experiences ghost touches when staying the night. The hands were gentle and comforting, calluses on the fingertips just like Thomas, but when he opened his eyes nobody was there.

That was the most noticeable of things. Though he could list off a dozen smaller happenings. He had no proof for them, as they could be explained, but Nico listened to his gut here.

And Nico has no idea what he would want to do with this information anyways. Thomas seemed to have some supernatural force that followed him around. What a fantastic conclusion to jump to! It would be weird to bring up, especially after Thomas had denied anything when Nico subtly brought it up. And the ghosts - for lack of better term - did nothing to harm Thomas.

The information that Thomas was haunted by ghosts was, for all intents and purposes, useless.

(Except it was not. It was fantastic material to write from. When he first called Thomas inspiration, his first impression never proved to be wrong.)

(And if Nico had started a personal project dedicated to a story based on it, nobody needed to know,)

The difference between Nico's feelings for Thomas and his feelings about his ghosts is that one actually got addressed.

He would be content to let Thomas have that secret to himself.

NEXT PART >>

#sanders sides #flirting with social anxiety #sanders sides fic #nico flores #thomas sanders #nico x thomas #karrot kings #pintroverts #nicomas #ts virigl #virgil sanders #the haunting of thomas sanders #snappy writes

[taecalikook]

When the sea sleeps

summary : marriage should be based on love, but it’s not really the case with you and Seokjin. what’s more beneficial than two person who sworn off romances to get married out of obligation, right? but you should have known better, that keeping your heart straight from wanting someone like Kim Seokjin is next to impossible.

{fake marriage! au, strangers to lovers!au}

pairing : kim seokjin x reader

genre : major tooth rotting fluff, crack, smut(?)

word count : 23.720 (one-shot)

warning! mention of period and masturbation, daddy kink, big cock! seokjin, teasing, cock sucking, rough blowjob, deep throat, nipple play, oral (female receiving), riding, cum play, major fluffy love talk (?), dry hump, infidelity mentions, etc. ((omg))

“Hi, I am in the mart near our apartment. Anything you want?”

“Yes, please. I think we ran out of toothpaste and cleaning liquid. And can you get the usual donuts as well? Thank you.” Your husband replies meekly from the other side of the call. You hum in agreement, noting the order. 

“Will you be home soon?” You ask mundanely, a question based out of routinity instead of wanting an answer. Well, that’s just how it is with Seokjin.

“I don’t think so. Might have to stay late for work. You should head to bed first.”

“Okay, then. See you.” You nod and cut the call, shoving the phone to your pocket.

It’s been like this for the past two and a half years with Seokjin. Meeting him after being introduced by your mother, getting married after six months of vague dating, and then living rather as a roommate than husband and wife in your small apartment. Life has been good.

Well, it’s not like you are married for love.

Seokjin is 33 years old this year, and you are 31. Years ago, you weren’t really interested in marriage. You were fully capable of living on your own, not really interested in love and that’s about it. Even so, your mother never stopped sending you lists of men she’s going to introduce you to—but you quickly shut her off by busying yourself with work and all. 

Yet no matter how heartless you might be, seeing your mother crying her heart out before bed for god to give you a good husband and family, you finally caved and agreed to one blind date. She couldn’t be happier to give you the name of your suitor. 

Kim Seokjin. A 31 years old, living in his own apartment, working in a local bank as a manager. 

When you first heard about him, there’s no outstanding or over the top qualities he possessed, and probably that’s how you prefer him to be. Yet when you saw him first, there’s literally nothing else you preferred him to be.

“I’m sorry for this, but… I actually have no interest in marriage.”

He thought you would be slapping him across the face after saying such a ridiculous statement on the first meeting, yet when your face lightened up, he was not less than confused. 

“Me too! I only did this because of my mother.” You squealed in delight of finding the person that shares your pain. “I never intend to get married myself.” 

“God, I was scared you’ll take this the wrong way.” He finally sighed in relief, was afraid of offending you. “My mother, she is.. sick right now, and she has never stopped saying that she wants to see me married before she dies.”

“I understood that. And I’m sorry, I hope she’ll be fine soon.” You sincerely wished him well. As far as you were concerned, Seokjin looked like a great guy. He deserved better, anyway, and high chance he would be a good friend. It’s not often to see someone not too desperate to chase love after reaching your age.

After another hour talking about anything but yourself, Seokjin reaches out for the bill. “Are you up for desserts?” He asked with a thin smile, and you nod happily, thinking about the sweets you were about to consume.

That evening, when your mother asked what happened with the date, you told her that she shouldn’t expect more about Seokjin. Yet the day after, Seokjin messaged you asking for a second date, your mother was over the moon. And that was how you spent another six months in a vague relationship with Seokjin, where it seemed like both of you were serious, yet there’s no feelings attached. Seokjin was a best friend, and an outstanding listener, but that’s about it. 

One day, Seokjin asked about the idea of marrying you, whether you would detest the idea. And strangely, you didn’t. The week after, Saturday night you were just sitting in his apartment eating his homemade dishes, Seokjin asked whether you wanted him to marry you. After setting a few basic rules, and just like that you agree. 

That’s how you’ve been living with a bestfriend-like-husband.

Sex is absolutely off limit, and not that Seokjin has initiated it before. You are sleeping in the same bed, but Seokjin generously chooses the giant king bed that is rather disproportionate to the whole room to ensure both of you have personal space in bed. In the morning, Seokjin usually cooks, and you’ll take turns cleaning the apartment. You’ll water the small plants near the window, changing your bed sheet, and cleaning your wedding photo from dust. 

On Saturday or Sunday, both of you will have brunch together in the nearest cafe then lounge around watching netflix on your large TV. Once every month he’ll have a drink with fellow friends or you’ll meet up with your best friends, and meet with your parents or in-laws. 

Living with Seokjin is a series of routinity, and you actually don’t mind. Maybe you're already in the age when you are surreptitious, and had enough of surprises. 

After taking a long warm bath and getting inside your comfy sheets, you settle for a while in silence until a name comes up on your screen. Your mother-in-law is calling. You abruptly  rise to sit, pressing the green button. “Hi, mother. How are you doing?”

“I’m very great now listening to my precious daughter’s voice!” She gleefully squeals, strangely energized. You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s already ten. Now it reminds you Seokjin’s not home yet. “Seokjin’s father is having a birthday lunch this Saturday. You can come right? Do come by eleven, okay?” 

“Ah, I see. We will, mom.” You smile, internally noting the event to let Seokjin reserve his time. The talks then continue with your condition, whether you’re well or having sickness whatsoever—you know she actually means to ask if you’re going to give her a grandchild anytime soon. You answer demurely, not that it surprises you as your own mother has been going on and on and on about it as well. But how can you say that when you haven’t even kissed him more than five times in the past two and a half years?

But to think about it, Seokjin really has a great self-control if he really is not having an affair—for the lack of better terms—outside your marriage. Not that it would upset you whatsoever, it’s just not something you’d rather discuss with each other. Both of you agreed it would be okay to do whatever you both want, as long as you’re open to each other—but so far, nothing has implied otherwise. You somehow feel an urgency to talk about it, as you know Seokjin is a healthy man who must have his own needs as well—the one you can’t help with. 

After the call ends, Seokjin enters your bedroom at the same time, looking crumpled as ever. The top two buttons on his shirt are undone, face looks beyond exhaustion, and… the fly of his trousers is opened. You are unable to hold a sly smile.

“Are you tired?” You greet, and Seokjin nods, sighing deeply. 

“Today was pretty shitty. A client was being a jackass as per usual.” Seokjin throws his bag on the table, taking off his suit. “I think I’m going to take a long hot shower. You can sleep first.”

You hum. “Okay. I turned up the water heater, so you can go in now.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.” Seokjin sighs in relief.

“You’re welcome. And Saturday, your father is having a birthday lunch and your mother asked us to come. Do arrange your schedule. And Seokjin?” You ask, and Seokjin looks up to you in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

“Your fly is open.”

“Fuck.” He curses and looks down, immediately zipping it close. “I hope I didn’t embarrass myself. And I swear it was nothing, I may have forgotten to close it in the restroom before going home.”

“It’s okay. You can do whatever you want, anyway.” You heartily giggle in amusement—with lots of subtle meaning behind words—settling back on your side of bed and hearing Seokjin softly closes the door behind him.

*

It’s already Friday, and somehow you still feel anxious. The day is closing soon, and tomorrow you’ll be meeting your in-laws for a family lunch, yet you are aware it’s not that simple. You have to pretend you have a real, conservative marriage with Seokjin, and it stresses you out. Not because you have to pretend to be in love—you’d rather think you’re relatively good at that, but having to lie to his parent’s face that Seokjin’s dick has ever entered you to get them a grandchild is nauseating.

“Why are you so tense, Y/N?” Hoseok chuckles, tapping your shoulder. “It’s Friday night. You should be all smiles.”

“Just meeting a few of my in-laws tomorrow. I’m a bit… nervous. That’s all.”

Jane who is sitting beside you immediately joins in. “Ah, that’s hard. My in-laws are jackasses, hence I’d rather steer clear from any family meetings. Why are you nervous? Are they annoying bastards as well?”

“No, they’re not like that.” You shake your head, confused on how to explain that you are not having a real marriage with Seokjin like most married couples. You’d rather not. “Well, I think I’m just having cold feet. That’s all.”

“You should come with us, then.” Hoseok offers with a whole ass large smile which shows his perfect teeth. “We’re having a drink tonight. No worry, we’re not going all the way to night. Just a slow one. You’ll be fine.”

That’s how you agreed to attend with a few of your peers, notably Hoseok and Jane who are your teammates, Namjoon from Legal, Jungkook from Accounting, and a few other friends you are only on name basis with. It surely started slow, and you gave Seokjin a short call before entering the bar. 

“Seokjin, hi. I’m out for drinks with friends, I’ll be a bit late, okay? But not too late though, only for two hours, three hours max.” You smile at Jungkook who is asking you to come. You gesture for him to enter before you. “I’ll give you a call when I’m done.”

“I see. Where are you drinking exactly?” He asks calmly. You quickly mention the name and address of the bar. “Okay. Let me know when you’ll be coming home, I’ll get you.”

“Ah, it’s okay! I think Hoseok or Jungkook can drive me home. No worry.”

“I see. Be safe, okay? And don’t get too hammered, we still have that lunch tomorrow.” Seokjin calmly reminds you. Probably due to the fact that you’re that quick to lose control, and the struggles he had to face on a regular basis to deal with drunk you.

Something inside you stirs at the remembrance of tomorrow’s event, but you quickly shrug it. You’re drinking to forget, anyway.  “Of course. See you!”

As it should’ve been easily predicted, you’re really loose with your alcohol control, especially with the great atmosphere and company. With Hoseok and Jane, one drink becomes two, and then four, and then in a blink, you lose count. You really should’ve predicted it, now drunkenly blabbering whatever inside your mind. Yet at once, you stumble on your seat and nearly fall until Jungkook catches you by the waist.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook checks up on you, staring at your blushing face, eyes hooded like completely feeling the alcohol dancing in your spine. “You look drunk, Y/N. Maybe you should cut the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I think I should.” You sigh, resting the glass back on the table. You rub your forehead. “I shouldn’t be drinking, since tomorrow I’m meeting my in-laws, and it’s.. fucking.. suck! You know why, Jungkook?” Jungkook shakes his head, amusement visible in his eyes while looking at you.

“Because they’ll keep asking about grandchildren.” You scoff. “They’ll keep wanting me to have a child, especially with the fact that Seokjin’s younger brother already has three of those. But how can I say it to them?”

“Why? Is there any reason you don’t want to have kids? Are you waiting?”

You hit the table with your fisted hand, aggrieved. “It’s not that. How can I when.. when.. I haven’t even had sex with my own husband?” 

“What?” Jungkook really couldn’t believe his ear. You have been married for more than two years and haven’t had sex with your husband? How is that even possible is beyond him. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Y/N.” 

Jungkook looks back at the source of the voice, finding Seokjin’s dark eyes looking at your figure, resting your head on the table. Jungkook immediately lets go of his hand on your skin. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s okay. She must be drunk.” Seokjin sighs, circling his hands around your waist. Not that he didn’t expect it, but he feels extremely uncomfortable with the fact that someone else is aware of your little arrangement, especially with it being someone he doesn’t even know besides a name. “I’ll take her now. Here.” He says, slapping a few bills for your drinks.

Not even muttering goodbyes for Jungkook or other drunk people on the table, Seokjin instantly takes you back to his car. A minute of silence he’s staring at your face, Seokjin lightly flicks your head in annoyance before taking off, after ensuring you’re well secured on the passenger side.

*

“I’m sorry.”

The moment you’re awake, the memory instantly hits you like a truck inside your throbbing head. Constantly shoving drinks up your throat, dancing with Jane and Hoseok, and little talk with Jungkook. You also faintly make out Seokjin’s face getting you from the bar in your memory—right before passing out. God, it’s totally a mess. You really should avoid drinks again at all costs now.

“Are you awake?” Seokjin calmly asks while stirring breakfast on the pan. You nod, standing beside him. “The soup will be ready in a second. You can get our plates.”

Realizing that the talk is about to happen, you silently follow his order and prepare a few of the utensils on the table. You sit down to wait for Seokjin to join, and when he does, you are still waiting for him to open the conversation. In the midst of eating in silence, Seokjin suddenly breaks the silence.

“Do you want to have a child?”

Out of shock, you literally choke on your soup, the liquid entered the wrong pipe. Yet even when tapping your back lightly, he still has the nerves to laugh. 

“That’s not funny!” You scowl in annoyance, gulping the water Seokjin offered. Your husband is a total jerk, you really should’ve known.

“It is. And I really need to know, since last night you were talking to your friend about our sexless marriage in such a heart wrenching manner I just had to ask.”

You are silenced in guilt with the mention of last night, resting back the glass. “It’s not like that.” 

Seokjin cocks his head. “So what is it like?”

“No, I was just stressed about the fact that our families are pressuring us to have a child.” You sigh, never actually telling Seokjin about the pressure on your shoulder. “My mother even once asked me to consult with Obstetricians if my eggs are not working. Why didn’t she doubt your sperm instead?! Annoying.”

“Y/N. You really should’ve told me if my mother and yours has been pressing you to have a child.” Seokjin speaks in good nature, even with a hint of scolding. “I will let her know that it’s our decision, and we’ll have kids whenever we are ready.”

You nod. “Thank you. And I’m very sorry, by the way. Yesterday was a bit much, I know.”

“It’s fine.” He says, tapping the top of your head. “I’ll take a bath first, and we’ll go about an hour. Okay?”

And as predicted, the one that welcomes you and Seokjin even from far is Taehyun, Taehyung’s five years old eldest son. He runs with his two little feet with a light shout of glee until he clings to Seokjin’s thigh. “Auntie! Uncle! Hi!”

“Hi, Taehyun! How are you?!” Seokjin instantly takes him by the waist, bringing him up to his grasp and kisses his lumpy cheek. You are unable to hide a swooned smile. “Are you a smart boy now? Have you made friends in kindergarten?”

“Of course!” He squeals, and proceeds to tell him about his exciting kindergarten stories. You walk in, immediately welcomed by Tasha, Taehyung’s wife in a bear hug. “Sister-in-law! How are you doing? You look great.”

“I’m fine, Tasha, thanks.” You giggle in delight. You have always been close with Tasha, as she is a wonderful woman and a good friend as well. “You look amazing. And god, that hair is exquisite.”

Tasha laughs while sheepishly fixing her hair of light purple highlights. “Got a few dirty looks from my boss and Taehyung’s mother, but it’s all worth it I guess. Who said mother of three can’t rock highlights, right?”

“Absolutely!”

“You two beautiful ladies should come in.” Seokjin’s father beams at the two, gesturing to enter the house. “My wife has already prepared loads and loads of food, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Happy birthday, father.” You smile, giving the old man a hug. “I hope this year is the best year that brings happiness to your life.”

“Well, a wish that this is not my last year in life is sufficient, but that is well welcomed as well.” He jokes, as the three of you enter the home. “Thanks anyway, Y/N. Greatly appreciated.”

“My granddaughters!” Your mother-in-law literally shouts, kissing you both on the cheek. “You both look amazing. My two sons should be thanking their lucky stars for having you both as a wife.”

“We are, mother. Every night.” Taehyung appears on your side, giving you a side hug of welcome. “How are you, sister-in-law? You’re doing great, right?”

“Amazing, Taehyung. Thank you for asking. I hope you’re well rested while taking care of the lovely miniatures of you.” You look at the three children, Taehyun, the twin Taejin and Taerin playing with their toys in the middle of the living room with your husband. 

“The sitter helps, of course.” Taehyung giggles, and Tasha elbows him with a scowl. Your mother quickly wraps the heart warming greetings and guides the whole family to be seated for the lunch prepared. And boy is the dining table packed with countless foods, not even including the dessert on the small table in the corner of the room. You just hope this won’t go to waste.

“No worries, we’ll be packing this as well to have it distributed to neighboring orphanages along with a few other donations.” Seokjin’s mother beams, sensing your worry after looking onto the countless plates.

An hour passes by quickly with the family digging on the delish in front of them. While chatting among themselves, Taehyung and Tasha hand their own gift to his father. “Here it is, father. Happy 65th birthday, hope you are always happy and healthy.” He beams, hugging his father. The large package is heavy on his hand, and your father in law laughs in glee.

It was a beautiful sight, yet you feel terribly uneasy. You haven’t gotten him anything, and Seokjin never discussed this before. How can you forget? God, you’ve really shame yourself and Seokjin in front of his family.

“What is this?” The old man questions and rips the wrapper.

“Open it.” Father quickly opens the package, and sees multiple items neatly stuffed in the box. “Healthy supplements and tea, warm jacket, acupuncture mat, few other things that can help you live longer.” Taehyung grins. The old man rolls his eyes, but nonetheless looks content with the gift.

“Thank you, son! Will put this into a good use.”

Amongst your panic of reaching out to Seokjin beside you, he instead takes turns in handing the gift of his own, an envelope, which catches you by surprise. He never talked about bringing a gift before. “This is from me and Y/N, father. Happy birthday.”

“What is this?” Your father curiously opens the envelope. At once, he literally squeals, unable to hide the delight in his face. “A two way ticket to Japan? Son, this is too much.”

“It’s not. It’s the least we can do for you and mother.” Seokjin says good-naturedly, like the precious son he is. You stare at him strangely. “Y/N and I also arranged a few stops that could be great to improve your health as well. No worries, there will be a guide as you’ll be on tour.”

“Thank you, son!” Your father and mother take turns hugging both you and Seokjin, and you only reply while in a hazen state, don’t know how or what to feel. As long as you know, it all comes from his pocket, and it’s his money to spend. You don’t even know why you feel weirded out. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Can you at least pretend my gifts are worthy too?” Taehyung jokes, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “The health supplements cost a fortune too, father! You’re being too mean with your reaction.”

“I’m just so happy my two sons are happy with their own family.” The old man beams in delight. “And your mother prepared a gift for you and Seokjin too, Y/N. Darling, you can give it to them, okay? I’m going to the restroom.”

“Why aren’t you giving it to me too?” Taehyung whines to his mother as Tasha elbows him for the nth time already. 

“You don’t get one because you don’t need it, Taehyung.” 

Seokjin’s mother quickly shoves you a gift with the largest of smiles, and truth to be told, you instantly feel uneasy. A gift in which you need and Taehyung don’t? An easy guess instantly comes to your senses. It must be it. There’s no other way.

“We’ll open this when we get home.” You turn your head to Seokjin, seeing how expressionless he has become. Is he angry? He swiftly takes the gift from you, resting it on the other side of the room.

“Ah, it’s good to. Just be careful using it, okay? It’ll be very helpful with the conception, trust me. It’s been passed down with generations.” Seokjin’s mother winks, looking very satisfied, yet you feel queasy, feeling like you’re soon puking your heart out. On your side, you can detect how silent Taehyung and Tasha have become, and you swear you never felt this pathetic and miserable before.

“Thank.. you.”

Seokjin holds you by the hand with his face is beyond enraged now—yet you know he could never be angry with his parents. He’s a mama's boy, and you like it that he is, but you really feel like going home and crying your heart out. But you have to endure longer hours feeling like total shit with your in-laws around.

“Father, mother, Y/N and I had to go home. I just remember we had stuff to do at home.” Seokjin curtly says, and you whip your head at him in surprise. You mostly did not expect it. 

“Why? You don’t really have to do it right now—but if you really have to, it’s okay.” Your mother giggles, content with the idea that you and your husband need to leave because both of you are going to fuck and give them grandchildren. God, your head literally throbs with the misunderstanding.

“Y/N, get to the car.” Seokjin mutters tensely, there is not a hint of emotion beside morse in his tone. “Mom, can we talk?”

“Seokjin, no.” You whisper while tugging on his sleeve. “Don’t do it.”

“Y/N, get to the car.” He repeats, like he is not up for any negotiation. You are scared of what he’s going to say to his mother. Is he going to say about the fact that your marriage is faux and is only done to please her? But that’s not what you want, just thinking about it makes you sick. “You can leave the gift here.”

Mildly confused at the sudden tense situation, your mother-in-law silently nods and complies to talk with her son. Against his order, you pick up the gift and move to give Taehyung, Tasha and their three children a parting hug. 

“Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Tasha worriedly says, and you nod with a strained smile. “Be safe in driving home.”

“We will. Taehyung, thanks.” You hug the pouting guy, as he gives you a squeezing hug of consolation. 

“Our parents can be prodding like that. I am very sorry.”

Walking back into the room finding the confusing tense, Seokjin’s father looks at you about to say goodbye. “Are you leaving?” 

“Yes. I’m afraid we have something coming up.” You forced a smile, yet you know your father-in-law completely understands the whole situation.

“Okay then. Give this old man a parting hug.” The kind man then hugs you dearly like you’re a daughter he never had. “Thank you for coming. And I’m very sorry.”

“It’s nothing! Everything is great.” Like an idiot, you still try to lie through your teeth in front of the wise man—it’s ridiculous. “Happy birthday, father.”

Walking inside Seokjin’s car, you patiently wait another ten minutes until he comes in with an unreadable expression. And when he sits beside you, he heave a deep breath. 

“Is everything okay? What did you say?” You fret in panic.

“Nothing much. That it’s already tough for both of us now, and we’ll have kids whenever we want to.” Seokjin hums, glancing at the gift his mother gave yet refusing to comment. “I’m very sorry that I haven’t realized this before. I know it must be stressing you out.”

“Not really. I’m just.. tired.” You hollowly laugh, Seokjin slowly taking off the house onto the street. Spending a few minutes staring at the gift secured on your lap, you mutter—more to yourself. 

“Do you think we should just have a child?” 

At the unexpected question, Seokjin glances at you. Next five minutes are spent in deep silence before...

“Do you love me?”

The questions really create a ripple of shock in your whole body. You literally have no idea whether he’s being serious or not.

“W-what?”

“I don’t want to have a child when both of us know there is no love here. We both don’t love each other.” Seokjin mutters lowly, eyes trained on the road. “Let’s not put more innocent people into misery.”

Misery.

Misery.

You don’t know why that word hurts more than you thought it would, coming out from Seokjin’s mouth.

*

As expected, the things between you and Seokjin have become pretty frosty. Sunday morning, he excused himself to go fishing with Yoongi—his best friend of ten years, and you were thankful that you do not have to waste another second in his presence. Being with him is hard enough, not that you have to be reminded of the hurtful things he said.

Misery.

Yes, misery indeed. Having to marry someone you don’t have feelings for. 

But you thought he was a friend. Not that you chained him into this, and he was the one asking your hand in loveless marriage. He is being a total jackass. And you never should’ve said such nonsense. Having a child with someone you don’t love? Seriously? Even couples in love can end up in divorce because of kids—much less your ridiculous marriage.

And it sucks that this suffocates your whole being yet you can’t tell anyone, since nobody really knows you don’t have any attachment to your husband.

Well, beside...

“Hello? Is this Y/N?”

Listening to the velvety voice on the other side of the call, you instinctively gulp. Are you seriously going to talk to someone about this, more less Jeon Jungkook? You must be quite desperate. “Hi, Jungkook! I’m sorry to interrupt you. Is this.. an alright time?”

Jungkook chuckles on the other side. “Well, not really, but I can make it alright for you.”

You groan, instantly retracting your own will to talk about it to him. “You seriously did not just flirt with a married woman, right?”

“Of course not! Who do you take I am.” He giggles in mirth, and you roll your eyes. You really made a mistake by calling him. “I’m a bit busy now, but will be free in around… an hour. Do you want to meet?”

“I didn’t exactly say what I wanted to ask for.”

“I just know.” Jungkook hums, and you literally can imagine his annoying smirk on the other side of the call. “I’ll text you the details.”

You spend another seconds in silence, but reply nonetheless. There’s no harm in meeting a friend. Right? 

“Sure.”

*

“So let me get this straight. You—in this advanced, 21st century—agreed to a marriage where the both of you don’t even have little bit of interest in marriage? And all because your parents want you to?”

Now that Jungkook is saying it in front of your face, it does sound foolish.

“Is it.. weird?”

“What the fuck, Y/N. It’s not just weird. It’s crazy.” Jungkook scoffs, feeling the firsthand headache of dealing with the situation you are currently in. “I don’t know how much of a good daughter you are, but this is nuts. You are seriously chaining yourself to a relationship just out of pity, and because of someone else. You know that phrase ‘having only love is not enough in marriage’? You don’t even have that.”

Your eyebrows furrow, quite dejected that Jungkook really has to phrase it like that. The urge to defend yourself rushes unto you. “Yes, I know what we are doing now is silly, but I actually have no regret. Seokjin is a great guy, a good companion as well, and it’s basically just a living arrangement. I’m good.”

He sighs at your stubbornness. “You know, you could’ve been with someone else that you truly love. Did you realize that?”

“I won’t.” You answer almost instantly, doting the cheesecake in the middle of your table. “I’m not interested. I am living well on my own, and I don’t really think I have anyone for me. I am comfortable with myself.”

“And why’d you trade that precious solitude of yours with someone you don’t even love?” Jungkook challenges, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Because if that’s how I can make someone else happy, I would.” You answer, looking back at Jungkook’s prodding eyes. “My mother, my father, have taken care of problematic me since I was a little kid. And now all they wanted is for me to have someone that cares for me, and who I deeply care for. And if getting married is the only way they can live and die happily… I’d do anything.”

Jungkook is easily silenced at your unexpected outburst, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder after saying what you truly feel to someone else. It feels almost relieving, the fog living in your shoulder lightens.

“But you know they’d truly be disappointed if you are lying to them, right? Lying that you are happy. Lying that you love your husband.” He observes you in concern. You smile lopsidedly.

“Well, maybe in my case, a little white lie won’t hurt.” You whisper to yourself, sipping on your beverage.

*

After hanging out a bit longer with Jungkook, you found yourself comfortable being around him. He is a great guy, albeit annoying and too curious for his own good, he is nice and easy to talk to. You were never really close to him, and usually a rather closed person, but Jungkook is too good at getting you out of your shell. 

Walking out from his car, you are stunned when finding Seokjin is also getting out of his own, about to enter your apartment building. He mirrors your expression, a paper bag filled with foods and in his right grasp is his favorite donuts box. 

“Hi.” He greets with cocked eyebrows. “I bought meat to cook for dinner.”

“Ah, I already ate dinner.” You guiltily scratch your nape, glancing to the car beside you. Jungkook is just about to drop you off, but you have no idea why he is not leaving yet. “You went home from Yoongi’s?”

“Yes.” Seokjin points to the car. “Who is it? Did you meet with friends?”

“Yes. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. But he’s just about to leave—”

“Hi man.” Jungkook is somehow already standing right beside you as you flinch in your spot, and he offers his hand. “I guess I never properly introduced myself. I’m Jungkook, Y/N’s workmate.”

“Ah, Jungkook. We met before, right? I am sorry, yesterday was quite chaotic, I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Jin smiles benevolently, shaking the younger man’s hand. “I’m Seokjin, the husband. Do you want to come in? I’m cooking steak for dinner.”

“Nah, I already had dinner with Y/N. But I’ll take you up on that, though. Let’s get dinner another time.” Jungkook agrees, and gives you a light tap in the back as a goodbye. “Got to go, but I’ll see you Monday!”

“Bye, Jungkook.” You reply meekly and turn back to Seokjin, staring back at you with a strange expression. “Are you good?”

“Yup.” Seokjin smiles impartially, shifting his expression. “Let’s get in, you’ll catch a cold.”

*

In a way, Seokjin realizes that something changes with you ever since coming back from his father’s birthday party. You were usually a chirpy, active person, unbothered to speak your mind, talking about Hoseok or your patronizing boss and made the apartment as loud as possible with your late night exercise—yet here you are, silently sitting down on your side of bed, watching your favorite series from phone. 

And you clearly stated how you hate watching with your phone that he knows you are avoiding him—not wanting him to join watching it with you in the living room. And what irks him is this passive aggressive thing has been going on since last week, and it’s already Thursday. He desperately needs the old you back.

“Why are you watching it on the phone?” Seokjin asks, a vague irritation slipped in his tone. “The TV is good to watch. And you hate watching it on the phone.”

You are confused to say the least, blinking your eyes at him. Your finger pauses the show. He remembers that? “Uh.. I’m just… feeling like laying in bed while watching. Is there something wrong?”

“No, don’t lie to yourself now. You are clearly avoiding me.” Seokjin hisses, unable to hide anymore of his annoyance. “And this has been going on for a week. You didn’t even let me know if you’re coming home, and rejected that one time I said I’ll get you from the office. What’s wrong?”

“I told you it’s nothing. My work is the opposite direction of your way to home. It’ll be easier to go home directly.” You reason stubbornly, trying to make sense—even if you know you really are avoiding him. You don’t want to let him know that you are hurt by the things he said, and to be frank, looking at him pissess you off a bit. Like right now.

“Y/N, you know that we are too old for this shit. You need to tell me right now if I did something wrong.” He states earnestly. You roll your eyes, not feeling to drag the conversation and position yourself back to watching.

“You did nothing wrong. It’s just me, maybe I’m going on menopause.”

Seokjin huffs, looking at you already settling back to watching—yet he is too determined to end all this bullshit that he discards the phone you’re watching onto the bed. You gape at him, dumbfounded that he really did that to get your serious attention. “Stop being a child and talk to me like adults.” He scowls.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I told you It’s nothing.” You shout, trying to get your phone back yet missing due to Seokjin’s quick wit of taking and hanging it far above his head. And poor you, that are seriously no match to his height.

“Give me back my phone, you jerk!”

“Might be a jerk but at least I’m not a 30 years old woman having menopause.” He mocks your nonsense, yet you are too resentful to give a shit that you literally climb on bed and jump to leech your whole weight on him like a freaking koala. Seokjin literally yells at your attempt of getting stable by clutching on his hair, pulling it to whichever direction you prefer. “Ah, get off me! It hurts and you’re heavy!”

“I don’t care! You’re being a jerk, and I’m a misery anyway, right? I’m just fulfilling my duties!” You howl, shaking your body that he shrieks, losing his balance and falls on your large bed. And like how most sleazy cringy telenovela, he just had to settle on top of you, but for one teeny different, his whole weight is now crushing your being like a sweet revenge. 

“Get off me! You’re heavy.” You screech like a petulant child, punching the guy on his broad ass shoulder. After a whole minute of finally begging him to get off, Seokjin finally gets on his elbow, giving a bit of space for you to breathe.

“I apologize that I upset you.” He gazes at you in all sincerity that literally leaves you holding your breath. “It was not true when I said that misery thing. You are not a misery. You are a blessing. The fact that we are married could be the greatest thing that happens to me, and I’ll never trade it for anything else.”

You are silenced, waiting for him to continue. “I was just pissed off with myself that I was insensitive about how everyone is pressuring you, and you are struggling because of this. I actually never thought about those snarks, and I thought you would too.” Seokjin softly claims, and you are near to tears that he literally speaks like honey. “I just thought it was off limits. I guess we should’ve talked more about this before.”

You sigh, looking down. “I do think so. And I’m sorry too—I guess I should’ve just said what’s bothering my mind.” You breathe out with a hint of guilt. “I’m sorry for acting like this. I guess that misery thing just got to me more than I thought it would, and.. yeah. Let’s communicate better.”

“We should.” He hums in delight. “You are cuter when you are less grumpy. You know that?”

“I am cute in any way possible.” You sassily reply, expecting a snarky comment as retaliation yet Seokjin’s lips curl in amusement.

“Well, I can’t comment on that.” He beams, and at that  your heart literally skips a beat. or two. or more than you can count. “I want to watch what you’re watching. Let’s watch it on the TV, your eyes must be hurting doing all these grumpy behavior.”

“Yeah, I do think so. It’s like.. exhausting.” You rub your temple. “I hate being crabby.”

“Yes. It doesn’t suit you. At all.” Seokjin pulls both your cheeks in different directions with sparkling eyes. You groan. “So don’t do that to your husband, okay?”

At that, you peer at him silently while he’s searching the series you love on the TV. The way he is able to easily soothe you is.. pissing you off.

“By the way, a new movie is premiering next week and I bought us a ticket. Wanna watch it with me?” He turns to you, still with the same adorable smile. And it literally sucks that something weakens inside you at that smile.

Ugh, there’s gotta be something wrong with you.

*

Another week goes and there you are, Thursday night about to head out after a whole day of work. Tidying your desk, suddenly a voice stops your wandering mind—it belongs to your desk mate.

“Why are you so happy today? You’re all whistling and it starts creeping me out.” Hoseok snickers, suddenly peering close to you. “Did you get a good dick down yesterday?”

“What the hell, Hoseok?” You groan, closing your laptop with a loud thump. “It’s not it. Can’t a girl just be happy without any reason?”

“No. That means you're crazy. And it’s coming from Y/N, the grumpies person on the planet.” Jane titters, joining your conversation. You started to doubt what kind of connection they had whenever it concerns you. “You must had a good sex yesterday. You know, I am curious on how Seokjin is in bed. Is he a bit dom? Looks a bit kinky, I have to say.”

“Of course! The way he acts is a complete giveaway, he must have a choking kink, or maybe bondage. Daddy kink is absolutely, by default.” Hoseok responds with curiosity. Jane snickers as you are busy gasping for air.

“And his dick?! You know, the first time I saw him, I immediately knew this guy has a big dick energy. I bet his is girthy—”

“Shut up!” You literally stop her from speaking, your palm secured to close on her mouth—yet unable to manage the blush weeping your whole face to neck. You feel hot and bothered. “Stop talking about such things! I am just in a good mood. Ugh, you two are seriously perverts.”

“Yes, okay, we’ll stop before you burst your flaming ear.” Hoseok singsongs, utterly amused by your reaction. You shot him a look. “By the way, tomorrow is a long weekend. Do you both have any plans?”

“Besides taking care of my child? Nah, bro. Might have sex if he’s lucky and stop running his mouth too much. And we had to stay in my husband’s family house. Ugh.” Jane rolls her eyes whilst taking her own belongings. “I’m just happy we get to have dinner tonight. Tomorrow is going to be exhausting as fuck.”

“Dinner? What dinner?” You are weirded out, most absolutely did not expect to promise any dinner. 

“My birthday dinner, of course!”

You whip your head towards the guy in a fancy red suit, completely looking dashing and silly at the same time. Well, that’s what you expect of him anyway, wearing such eye catching outfit in the middle of workday. “I sent the invites this Monday, and you said yes, Y/N.” He continues. “And you didn’t even congratulate me! How mean. But I’ll let you off since you’re cute.”

“But—but, I can’t! I have something else to do..” You stutter. Jungkook furrows his eyebrows at you.

“What? Watching netflix and eating popcorn? Nah, bro. You’re coming.”

“But, I’m serious! I’m sorry, but Seokjin is already downstairs, and he’s waiting for me. I can’t.. just leave him behind.” You weren’t going to say this, but Seokjin said he was craving lobster and asked you to go on a dinner with him. You really didn’t remember you had agreed to an appointment before with your workmate.

Jungkook stares at you in mild surprise. “He’s in the lobby? What happened with the two of you? I thought—”

“What are you saying, Jungkook? Isn’t it normal for a husband to get her wife from work?” Hoseok chuckles, and at once Jungkook is like awakened from his hallucination. 

“Yes, of course. My bad.” He nervously chuckles, avoiding Hoseok’s eyes. “But he should come! It’s only going to be the four of us, and Namjoon. He’s waiting in the lobby too.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a great idea…”

“Seokjin should come! It would be fun, you know. I want to have dinner with him.” Jane smirks, and you sigh loudly, knowing that this would end in a huge disaster and you’ll end up regretting. Yet you find yourself thinking of what to say to Seokjin. 

“Hi, Seokjin!”

Seokjin opens his window, smiling courtesy at Jane standing beside you. You remember Seokjin met few of your friends from work before. “Hi, Jane! Nice seeing you again. Are you heading home?”

“Not really. We are going to a restaurant! With Y/N too. You should come.”

He laughs, glancing at you. “Really? You didn’t say you had something to do.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot.” You frown in guilt. “It’s okay, I know we had plans—”

“No, I didn’t say that. We can come to the dinner with your friends too, if you want.” Seokjin chuckles, smiling dearly at you. You feel your breath hasten under his ministry. “Do you want that?”

Clearing your throat, you answer in nerves. “Yes, please. I promised to attend before, I guess I just forgot and thought I am free tonight.”

“Ah, I guess that’s why you’re all sooo chirpy today, aren’t you, Y/N?! I thought your teeth were about to fall off.” Jane beams, exhilarated as she elbows you. “Turns out you have a special occasion with your husband and forgot Jungkook’s birthday dinner.”

“That’s not it.” You glare at her, but she shrugs meaningfully.

“Okay, you two should head out. I’m with Hoseok.” Jane smiles and points at the blue car which you identify as Hoseok’s. “See you guys in a few minutes!”

“Sure.”

There is only silence in the car, when suddenly Seokjin breaks it with a question.

“Is it for Jungkook? That Jungkook—your friend that we met on our apartment?”

You don’t know what’s wrong, but your gut is telling you something is strange with his tone. You clear your throat of sheer awkwardness. “Yes. Today is his birthday, so he said he’d treat us to dinner.”

Seokjin seems uncomfortable. Living together for nearly two years has made you well aware of his small habit and gestures—by the way he clings on his collar, fingers tightening on the wheel as if he’s scared just shows you how he truly feels. At once, you quickly rests your palm on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Are you okay? You look.. nervous. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Waiting for the red light, he heaves a deep breath and closes his eyes. His right hand settles on your hands which were on his shoulder, linking each finger. “I’m fine.” Seokjin sighs deeply, resting both your linked fingers on his thigh. 

“I’m fine.” He repeats.

Now all you can hear is your own irregular heartbeat, with his warm palms against yours. 

And you wonder. What the hell is wrong with yourself?

After arriving, Seokjin still doesn’t let your hand go. And it’s all kinds of confusing, two years of marriage he never acts like now. Not even when going to your parents house, and it leaves you with numerous questions. And with that particular look on his face—it scares the shit out of you.

“Ah, here comes the couple!” Jane giggles, pointing to the empty seats beside her. “You can sit here. Seokjin, meet Namjoon! He’s in Legal.”

Like that, all your friends are engaged in a conversation—while Seokjin, he’s sitting silently with heads hanging low. You glance at him, concerned. “Hey, are you okay? You look a bit off. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Yes, your husband looks like he’s not really good. Is there anything wrong?” It is Jungkook, resting his wine back on the table. All of the eyes are now on the both of you. “Does this not work for you?”

“No, I’m sorry. Just a bit on the edge, that’s why. Don’t worry.” Seokjin smiles thinly, tapping his palm on the table. You nod hesitantly, regardless of the strangely tense air with him.

Whilst ordering, you are skimming on the menu when Jungkook jumps in. “Y/N, you like the shrimp here, right? You should order it.”

“Yes, I am thinking that too.” You tap your chin, and turn to Seokjin who is still staring far at the menu. “But I want to try the duck too. Seokjin, can’t you order that too? I don’t want to eat too much, I just want to have a bite.”

Seokjin is about to answer when Jungkook jovially interrupts, “Hey, there’s no need for that. You can order all you want. But if you insist, I’m ordering the duck, so you can have mine.”

“It’s okay, I’m having what my wife asked me to. Since I’m her husband. ” Seokjin curtly responds, and you are flabbergasted at how discourteous he sounded. The conversations on the table ended abruptly. 

“I—I see. Suit.. yourself.” Jungkook blinks his eyes, completely bewildered at the hostile response. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be forward.”

You stare at him with multiple emotions rushing inside of you, yet he’s evidently trying to avoid it while shoving drinks down his throat like there’s no tomorrow. 

“You’re driving tonight.” Seokjin mutters to you between drinks, and it sounds more like an order to your ear. There’s definitely something off with him, and you’re terrified of finding out. You’re scared if it will change him, you, and what you both had together.

*

“Are you going to be okay?”

Jungkook glances in concern at your drunk husband beside you, his hand is at the top of your car while you’re on the driver side. “He’s drunk. You sure you’re going to be okay? I can come with you.”

“No, it’s fine.” You reply. “I think he’s just not in a mood today. There must be something at work, I’ll try asking this tomorrow.”

“But I don’t like how jealous he was at me. I was just.. trying to be kind and offer to help. As a friend. And he immediately snaps like that.” Jungkook scowls in irritation. “It was borderline obsessive. And it’s not like you married for love—”

“Jungkook.” You stop him with reprimanding eyes that he stops immediately. 

“I’m sorry.” He lets out a deep breath. “I never told you—or anyone about this, but my sister is a divorcee. Because her husband became obsessed with her.” You know where he is heading and are about to rebut, yet he continues. “I know what you want to say, but I’m just saying this so you’d know. They were in love. But you know it could easily turn to something else.”

“Thank you for your advice, but I know it won’t happen to me—Seokjin is not like that.” You mumble, somehow reminding yourself. It’s the first time Seokjin is like this, both of you were great at keeping boundaries, and were not even in love. You’ll be fine.

Jungkook sighs and smiles weakly, brushing the top of your head. 

“I hope so too. Get home safe, kid.”

*

Waking up, the first thing Seokjin feels is his pulsate, a straight pang to his head. It’s been a long time since he had let himself off the limit and trashed himself until he blacked out, and he regrets every single second. The hazy memory starts to invade his mind—about how rude he had been yesterday, especially to you—and it literally freaks him out that he jumps out of his bed, desperate to explain. But you are not sleeping beside him. Or anywhere in the apartment. 

“Fuck.” Seokjin hisses, bringing his phone and runs to the elevator in such hurries. 

Are you... possibly gone?

“Seokjin, what are you doing here?”

“Y/N. Where have you been?” He questions, a little bit loud.  He’s too caught tapping the elevator button that he doesn’t realize the other lift is opened with you walking out, soaking with sweat. “I wake up and you’re not there. You.. I thought you..”

“What did you think? I was just running a few laps since yesterday’s dinner was a bit much.” You shrug nonchalantly, taking off your earphone. “Aren’t you dizzy after waking up? You shouldn’t be out, though.”

Walking back to your apartment, Seokjin is trailing behind you like a disgruntled puppy—keeping his head down low as both his hands are clasped. “I’m very very sorry, Y/N..”

“What are you sorry for?” You ask, pretending nonchalance. Seokjin sits beside you with a frown on his face. 

“I was being a jerk yesterday? And I drank too much and you must have a hard time dealing with my sorry ass.” 

“Did anything happen? Can I know why you were so pissed off?” You ask carefully, afraid of invading his space. He shrugs.

“Something bothered my mind, that's all. Don’t worry about it.”

Seeing how sullen he has been with himself, you are unable to pull both his chubby cheeks to different directions. He groans loudly with each pull. “Yes, you were such a ill-tempered baby yesterday when you were drunk. Do you know that?”

He nods begrudgingly. “Yes, mother. I won’t do it again.”

“But apologizing isn’t going to solve anything. You know it.” You pretend sulk. “I think I deserve three wishes.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrows. “Why? Why does it have to be three?” 

“Nah, I watched Alladin and it was good, so I was just copying—but that’s not the point!” You tap the table impatiently. “The point is that you embarrassed me in front of my friend and deserves a punishment. Now say yes to my three wishes.”

Your husband groans, tapping on his forehead. “God, I’m never drinking again. What? What is it that you want?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, actually..” You giggle while scratching your head. Seokjin squint his eyes at you in suspicion. “Can you give me a week to think about it?”

“No.”

“Five days?”

“Right now. Take it or leave it.”

“Okay, by tomorrow!”

“Three wishes all by the end of this day.”

“Fine! You are annoying.” You scowl, tapping your forefinger on your chin. Seokjin grins. “First, I want…lobster for lunch.” 

“Okay.” He holds the laughter upon remembering his yesterday’s request.

“And I want this new bag. I saw it on the newest catalogue yesterday, I want one. Buy it for me.” You send him a sugary smile.

“I see your wishes are getting more and more disproportionate.” 

You scoff. “But you promised to grant it!”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to grant it.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, resting his palm on your shoulder, skimming it until his finger hangs to yours. Your breath hitches at how it practically tickles your whole being. “Is that all? Are you saving one for now?”

“Y-yes.” You stutter, mind already turning blank that you forgot your last wish.

“Good.” Seokjin beams, swiping his thumb on your knuckles. You stare through his eyes, adoring the beautiful twinkle that sends butterflies knocking on your stomach. How could he affect you like this?

W-wait, are you hallucinating or he is really closing in right now? I-is he.. about to kiss you?

Against your expectation, he suddenly halts and snorts. “Now go take a bath, because you stink.”

You push him away, walking to enter your bathroom with a face that has gone vermillion red—especially listening to his annoying squeaky laughter from the living room. You feel terribly embarrassed. 

Did you really think he’s about to kiss you? And why the fuck do you have to act like a preteen girl having a crush on a classmate? This is literally super annoying how your body is acting strange—like you don’t even have control.

Ugh, you should never done anything dangerous with him again.

*

After having lunch in the lobster place, you and Seokjin drive to the cinema for the movie he pre-ordered last week. Sitting side by side with him, you find yourself hesitating. 

You want to hold his hand so damn much.

And this never happened to you before. Watching with him always ends up with both of you pretending to fight for the popcorn, and you’ll be far apart from each other—just like you’re watching alone. The movie’s genre is thriller and suspense, yet horror didn’t even take it for you to finally lean into him or anyone, yet that evening, you want to hold him. 

Closing in, you feel his shoulder closing on yours, leaning onto him as support. Seokjin looks at you in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Y-yes! I’m fine, I just—“

“Is this movie boring for you? Or are you cold? You want more popcorn or drink?” He queries in concern at your jumpiness.

“No.” You murmur, embarrassed at your own thought. Fuck, what were you thinking? There is no possible reason at all on why you want to hold him, it’s not making any sense and it irks you on how conflicted you’re feeling. “I just… nothing.”

Glancing at you, Seokjin sees how you’re mouthing to yourself and hitting your own forehead with a deep frown—and he couldn’t bite his smile back. With one fluid motion, he loops his arms with yours and withers your small palm against his, tapping slightly the side of his head with yours. 

“Let me know if you need anything else. Hmm?”

You blush hard, the creep of warmth running in your cheek like a wildfire. Clearing your throat, you decide to focus on whatever scene it is, not realizing how Seokjin glances at you from time to time, a toothy smile creeping in his face.

Walking out of the place, you were a bit panicked on seeing Seokjin again in broad light, but he’s still not letting go of your hands around his. You don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not—maybe you’re just afraid of finding out.

“Do you want to go window shopping? Maybe you’ll find that bag you want.” Seokjin offers, you are about to discard him—telling who the hell is still window shopping these days, or your desired bag is already on your online shopping cart, yet you don’t want to say so.

Maybe you just want to be with him a little bit longer.

Walking hand in hand to around the mall, both of you stop at the high end brand stores. Seokjin is about to walk in when you stop him. “Why are we entering this place? This is out of our budget.”

“Who said I want to buy you the bag from here? I want to see it for myself.” Seokjin lightly jokes, blowing raspberries and you scowl. Contrary to what he just said, Seokjin is directing you to the female side, where the tote bags are stacked. You laugh silently. Is he trying to be a tsundere now?

He looks at you and warmly smile. “See if there’s anything you like. I’m going to the restroom first, okay?”

You squint your eyes at him in fake suspicion. “You’re not leaving me here and fleeing home, right?”

“Busted.” He giggles and you grin. “Wait here, I’ll come back in a minute.”

After Seokjin leaves, you find yourself walking to see the bags in hesitance. Yet you know how expensive they are, and it even scares you to fall in love with a bag and realizing how struggling Seokjin has to be to buy it for you. The thought immediately retrains you from taking the tawny colored bag which catches your eyes the most.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

You look back at the voice calling your name, and finding the person that hasn't even crossed your mind to be there. It’s Park Jimin, with his trademark eye smile peering curiously at you. “It is you! How have you been?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, a little bit surprised to see him here, even talking to you. Well, maybe the years of your troubling childhood does have its own reminder in the form of this man. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Ah, yes. After moving from Busan to Seoul, I am just living my life, I guess. Got engaged a few years ago, my fiancé and I moved to Sydney for school, and I headed back for the time being for her.” He smiles jovially, letting you know things more than you expect him to. You nod with a hint of hesitation—a bit surprised that he’s still practically the same him from your childhood. Guess nothing really changes to a spoilt kid from birth. 

“Honey, I have five items already on the cashier, won’t you—who is this?”

The woman is peering closely at you, the evident staring feels deadly uncomfortable on your skin. You know that look—she is judging you from top to bottom, whether you qualify as someone she should feel competitive with. But you don’t really want to spoil your great mood from the morning and reply nonetheless. “I’m Y/N, an old friend of Jimin. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi.” She responds rudely, and turns to Jimin. “Aren’t we going after paying?”

“Wait, I still want to talk with her. You can use this.” Jimin opens up his wallet, giving her a card and she leaves almost immediately. “I’m sorry, she can be like that sometimes.”

You shrug nonetheless. “I can see that.”

Ignoring your obvious sarcasm, Jimin continues. “So, where are you going? Do you want to have dinner with us? We should meet up again sometimes, you know—“

“Y/N.”

Turning to the man calling your name, it turns out to be your husband, staring at the both of you with jaw ticked and cold stare. And Jimin is no different, completely startled with the fact that it is Seokjin calling your name. At once, you feel estranged with the tense in the air.

“Seokjin. Hi, this is Jimin, my old friend. Jimin, this is Seokjin, my husband.”

Seokjin is the one to answer, tone blunt. “I know.”

After long pregnant silence, Jimin clears his throat, and gives your husband a thin smile. “Hi Seokjin. Nice to see you again.”

“You two know each other?” You glance at both men with curiosity written in your face.

“Yes, Jimin was my junior in college. We were friends.” Seokjin answers with venom, and nobody can miss the way he pronounced the past tense. Jimin seems uncomfortable as well, trying to ignore the older guy and smiles at you.

“I didn’t know you’re married. When was the wedding? Why wasn’t I invited?” He laughs to discard the tense air, yet you can still sense the awkwardness coloring his tone.

“Ah, around two years ago, I think. My mother gave yours the invitation, but I guess it doesn’t work. It’s fine.” You shrug, keeping your courtesy no matter how much you want to shout what the fuck is going on with those two men.

“I am sorry, but I’ll send a gift your way. It’s very impolite of us.” Jimin offers kindly, but Seokjin cuts straight away.

“We don’t need it. Save your money to whom it belongs.”

You glare at Seokjin who is throwing his sight somewhere else. He never was impolite like this, and it stresses you out—the fact that you’re kept in the dark makes you feel like you’re basically second to nothing between the two of them. 

“Seokjin? Is that you?”

Jimin’s fiancé comes back with countless bags in her hand, and you can hear the loud enough snicker from Seokjin. “Ah, as expected.”

The girl looks surprised, to say the least. “What are you doing here? With her? Who is this girl?” 

At the condescending tone, you immediately turn defensive. She had no reason to talk to you and Seokjin like that. “Excuse me?” 

“Baby, don’t be like that. Y/N here is Seokjin’s wife.” Jimin murmurs softly to his fiancé, and the bitch still has the nerves to scoff with a sleazy smirk.

“Ah, finally. I am glad you finally got your shit together, stopped thinking about me and moved on.” She loops her hand around Jimin, rising her chin high. Your jaws are a second away from falling to the ground. What the hell is going on?! “And are you sure you can go here? Isn’t this too expensive for you?”

“What the fuck—”

You are ready to throw hands, but Jimin quickly pulls her away and so is Seokjin’s hands clasped on yours to hold you back. 

“Stop it. Let’s just go home.”

Hanging his head low, both of you walk to the parking lot in deafening silence. Seokjin’s face is now cloudy and dark, nose and eyes are turned red and you know he is this close to crying. You chest stings at how much in pain he seems. You have so many questions, yet you know he needs more time to figure out his own.

Trying to reach the car keys from his pocket, he can’t seem to find it and somehow ends up choking his own tears. Feeling terrible on how he must feel, you go to his side, helping him check his other pocket. “I’ll drive.” You softly say to him after, and he silently goes to the passenger side.

Night comes, and you stare at your bedroom door. Seokjin has been holed up inside the room after you both went home, and did not come out even for a drink. You knew he needed space, and you stayed in the living room to watch your series, but it’s been too long that you are on alert since this has never quite happened before.

You wake up from your seat, walking to the kitchen as you are about to prepare dinner. Mushing up your doubtful cooking skill, you cook a chicken pasta and union ring, even called his favorite donuts on delivery.

After all the food is ready, you knock on the door. “Seokjin, dinner is ready. Come out, will you?”

“I am not really hungry.” He answers softly, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t kid me, we both know you are never not hungry.” Your joke is met with no response. “Are you really going to be like this? Come out and let’s have dinner. I already cooked for us.”

A moment of silence. “Are you sure it’s edible?”

You scowl, albeit kind of relieved that his sarcasm is still in place. “It’s not, but I’m still going to shove it down your throat until you’re begging me to stop.”

Seokjin ends up coming out, and you immediately frown at him. His face is disheveled, eyes bloodshot red, trail of tears on both his cheek and his hair is all over the place. 

“Hey, you look ugly.”

He scoffs. “Thank you for the encouragement.”

“I am serious! You look uglier than that time we went to Bali and you shit yourself because of eating too much spices.” You giggle, and Seokjin hisses. Your way of consoling people is indeed very debatable. 

“I remembered Bali. Such a great time.” Regardless, Seokjin smiles fondly at the memory. It was for your honeymoon slash not really a honeymoon, since all you did was to spend your work’s wedding free leave. You and Seokjin registered for Bali’s backpacker packet where both of you were able to explore the true nature and culture of Bali, instead of staying in a five star hotel and fucking till dawn like most honeymoon. It was breathtaking, to say the least.

After settling on the dining table, you scoop a portion and hand it to him. “Eat. I also ordered your favorite donuts, it will be here in a few minutes.”

Seokjin gives you a thankful smile, acknowledging your effort to make him feel better. 

After a whole half an hour of eating in silence, you open a conversation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He looks to you, and lower his sight back to his plate. “This is good.”

You sigh, folding your hands on the table. Seokjin might feel uncomfortable and you understand he needs time, but you also know that he needs to share it with someone else, or the feeling will drown him instead. “You know, there is no good keeping it inside.” You breath out. “I want to know what happened with you.”

A few minutes of silence. “How do you know Jimin?” He asks instead.

“He was my childhood friend in Busan, before his father hit it big and they moved to Seoul. We used to play together. He was a classmate, and my only friend at that time.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrow. “Only that? Why does it seem like it’s not just friends? Like he really is glad to see you.” 

You shrug. “Yeah, it was.. kind of weird. You know how kids were. We were really close, and I kind of confessed… that I liked him before he went away.”

A particular hit on the plate causes you to flinch, a deep frown on Seokjin’s supple lips. “But it was in the past, right?” He confirms with no hint of playing, and you feel something settle strangely in your chest. 

Is it possible that he is jealous?

You chase the thoughts away and curtly reply. “Of course. I was 10 for god’s sake, I didn’t even really like him.” 

“I don’t even know why you like the guy. Was Busan really lacking in handsome boys?” Seokjin grumbles, munching soundly on the onion ring. “You should have seen me when I was a kid, I bet you’ll like me instead. I've been handsome since I was even a baby.”

“I’ve seen your schoolbook photo, but I’ll just go with whatever you say.” You giggle on his nonsense—even though he’s clearly not lying. He’s probably the most handsome person you’ve laid your eyes upon, that it was quite surprising he didn’t decide to fuckboy himself and settle down with you instead. 

Ten minutes pass in silence before you continue. “Can I say my last wish?” You ask carefully. Seokjin nods, a bit uncertain.

“Tell me what happened? With Jimin. And his fiancé too.” You hum, fidgeting with your fingers. “I just wanted to know, but it is okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

Seokjin sighs, rests his utensils and drinks the water before continuing. “It’s just.. hard. His wife, Dakyung was actually my girlfriend for a long time. We’ve been together since high school. At that time, she wasn’t really well off—his parents are struggling financially, but I was more than glad to support her getting the money to support her family.”

“We were together for like eleven years, I guess? I loved her very much, we’ve been through nearly everything and stood strong. I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I only wanted her. Being with anyone else never crossed my mind.” He softly explains, yet you don’t know why you feel yourself constricting with every word. It’s hurting you to see how pained he was, the beautifully carved words meant for someone else. “So around four years ago, I think? I bought an engagement ring for her. I was going to propose—but I guess you know the rest.”

“Did she.. cheat on you?” You ask carefully. Seokjin stares at you and nods, sadness written all over his face.

“I just found out when I was going to surprise her in her apartment. She… was in bed with.. Jimin.”

“What?!” You shouts in disbelief. “Jimin, your college friend fucked your girlfriend of eleven years?”

“Yes, and I don’t know what happened too, but at that time what I remembered was Jimin pleading for her to break up with me, and she said yes, asking for him to wait for the right time. But who am I kidding? It was a good choice at her part. Jimin is crazy rich, handsome and good too. Anything a girl wants, right?”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” You mutter, resting your palm over his as a consolation. “Money is not everything, and she’s trading that for eleven years of happiness with you. It’s her loss.”

“Maybe it’s not, Y/N. At that time, I realized that maybe it was indeed my fault. I, like a fucking fool, still wanted to be better for her. Even after I knew she was cheating on me, I tried holding on to her, so the next day I asked her to meet me and still proposed. I would do anything to make her happy. And as expected, she rejected me.”

“Seokjin…” You whisper, a tear welling on the corner of your eyes on how broken he must have felt.

“She immediately eloped with Jimin, and both moved to Sydney for school. But I guess in a way, I’ve never moved on. I was always trying to contact her, sending her emails or messages until she had enough and blocked me. I was depressed. The one that I loved for eleven years, left me just like that.”

Seokjin stares at you, meaningfully. And you’re about to hear something that breaks your whole being. 

“And then, I just knew I’d never love again.”

*

You don’t know what happened with you—and Seokjin, but in a way you’ve been distancing yourself from him, and the gesture is mutual. Seokjin never came home early, and not that you ask him anymore. He always came home whenever you were already asleep, and when you wake up, he’d be gone. Even with the current withdrawal, you still find breakfast on the table, courtesy of him. Yet you’d rather he not.

I just knew I’d never love again.

It hurts. It hurts like hell when he really said that he’ll never love again. In a way, you know you’ve been feeling something for your husband—that you crave for his attention and care, and to know that he might never reciprocate the way you want him to. Hurts like a bitch.

But it’s all on you. It is clear as crystal that love is not even the foundation of your marriage, so if anything happens to your foolish heart, it’s all on you. You shouldn’t have taken this lightly. You should’ve known that you are weak at heart, and you’ll fall for him anyway. 

Because he is the greatest guy you have ever met.

The compassion, kindness and caring that he has, it’s beyond comprehension. You don’t know how someone can be so understanding like he is, the way he takes care of you and wants nothing in return, that sincerely wants the best for you—even without love—succeeds in making you fall head over heels for him. 

God, you really are a fool.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You look to your left, seeing Hoseok scrutinizing at you in worry, now Jane is already beside him. “You’ve been whimpering since morning, and now you’re crying. Is there anything wrong?”

“Nothing, I am sorry for disturbing you all.” You swipe your tear stained cheeks, standing from your seat. “I’m getting some air, okay? I’ll see you guys later.”

Half-running, you enter the elevator and swiftly exit the building, trying to breathe as clear as you could—no matter how it might hurt you. God, you hate being vulnerable. You hate being weak. You hate being in love—an unrequited one, at that. Why can’t you just put your heart together? Why do you have to like him now, after two years of not caring whether he even fucked someone else behind your back? 

A whisper in your mind tells you that probably, these two years have been too great with him. Maybe, because he never gave you space for doubt. Maybe, you are already dependent on him without you knowing. Maybe, you take your feelings for granted.

“Y/N, are you okay? Why are you crying?” Someone stares at you in shock, and turns out it is Jungkook. His arm is around your shoulder. “I just finished a meeting and wanted to get  coffee and found you here instead. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Is it weird that I felt sad because I finally—finally have feelings for my husband? Like… this supposed to happen before marriage, right?”

“Oh, Y/N..” Jungkook sighs. “What happened?”

And like that, you fill him in on what happened between you and Seokjin, and it leaves him furrowing his eyebrows. “So.. you telling me that you think Seokjin still couldn’t forget his ex?”

You process his sentence for a while, and reply with a hesitant nod. Jungkook exhales loudly. “That’s not it, Y/N. I don’t think he’s still in love with his ex, he is... just scared. He is scared of the pain of his past, and he is scared of opening up to someone. Just like you. And with the way you are acting right now, it’s not fixing anything you both are feeling right now.”

“But he said he’ll never love again..”

“I couldn’t believe you even believe that bullshit.” Jungkook frowns. “That girl betrayed him. She gave him literally a thousand reasons to move on. He just needs time to adjust, and a couple of facts slapped to his face. He’ll come around.”

“Do… do you think I should.. talk to him about this?” 

“No. You can just shut up and hope he can read your mind.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, heavily sarcastic. “Talk to him, Y/N. You trust him, right?”

“I do.” You whisper to yourself, strangely motivated. “I do trust him.”

*

Well, it turns out trust is not a really firm base for confronting your own husband to the mess you made. After you called Seokjin to pick you up after work to get dinner together, he was visibly surprised at your request since you’re usually not the type to begin conversation after a fight—you never even asked to be picked up before. You yourself don’t even know whether it would be a good idea, but Seokjin’s easy agreement does make it better.

When you enter the car, he is the first to greet with a warm smile, and it reminds you that you haven’t seen it for so long now—you might even miss it. “Hey.” 

“Hi, Seokjin.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “Thank you for picking me up. I’m just.. feeling a bit out of it to take the train. I hope it’s okay.”

“Of course it is. I told you a million times I’ll pick you up if you can, you’re the one who rejected me.” He giggles lightly, glancing at you. “Thank you too.”

“For what?”

“For reaching out? I know past week we’ve been.. kinda avoiding each other. I didn’t know how to.. start since I was the problem in the first place.” He scratches his nape in shame. “I am very sorry, by the way. It was very immature of me.”

“No, it’s not. I totally understand.” You respond quickly. “And I didn’t know what happened, I have no rights to judge. It was your pain, and I am just glad you want to share it with me.”

Unexpectedly, Seokjin chuckles. “Why are you so sweet today.” 

“Let me know if you want my sass back, I’ll gladly serve it to you.” You retaliate, even your inside are churning with nerves.

“You know I accepted you for who you are—you can be anything you want.” Seokjin brushes the top of your head with a toothy grin that leaves you a breathy mess. 

“You are so cheesy today.” You respond briskly, noticing that you have arrived at the designated restaurant. Seokjin parks the car swiftly, and when there’s only silence inside, he turns on the lights on top of him.

“I have something for you.”

“What?”

“Look at the backseat.”

You glance at the backseat, finding an oak brown bag that somehow feels familiar. You quickly pick it up and open it. Turns out it is the exact beautiful brown bag that has catched your eyes from your previous window shopping session—before Jimin comes into the picture. You squeal in delight. “What is this?! Are you seriously giving this to me?”

“No, I’m giving it to Grandma Lee, our neighbor. Who else?” He smirks and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before adoring your bag once more.

“This is very pretty, though. How could you know which one I liked?”

“Well, let’s just say I know you better than you think? I practically know what you liked. This one greatly matches your outfits too. You know I have a great fashion sense.” He winks.

“I’ll let your last sentence pass because I’m very touched right now. Thank you, Seokjin.” You beam in joy, adoring the bag.

Seokjin nods, and when you rest the bag carefully on the backseat, he suddenly pulls you close for a hug—his arms around your waist, your chin settles on his shoulder. His spontaneity literally leaves you breathless, the heat is blooming around your cheek at the close proximity. God, you wish he couldn’t hear your drumming heartbeat.

“Thank you for being such a great friend and partner. I’m so thankful we are married, you know?”

You grimace in pain. God, the sound of your heart breaking is really audible in your ear. Oh, how you wish he had known.

*

And in the end, you are the loser in this game you played with yourself, because you most absolutely didn’t say a thing, yet you’re enjoying every second of being in love by yourself, making up scenarios and wondering if he feels the way you do.

It is ridiculous how greatly it has been played—considering how caring he usually is, yet it’s not even rare for him to say that you’re different in a way. He never explained in detail, but even you know what’s different. You started calling him frequently between work, asking when he’ll be home, his opinion on little things, or if he wanted to eat anything. It’s the small things that you’re hoping he’ll catch, yet it seems like something trivial for him and it lowkey upsets you.

One evening, you’re already waiting for him in the apartment, determined to finally tell him about what you feel—that you love him and hope he feels the same way. Jungkook was right—you can’t lounge around waiting for him. There’s no shame in starting first, especially when knowing it’s him you’re falling in love with.

Yet the clock strikes nine, he has not arrived yet. The food you prepared since six has already turned cold, and you start to feel wary, glancing nervously at the door—since he said he’ll be home around eight and is already late by an hour. You already tried calling him, but it is met with no response. His phone is on and well, yet he’s not replying. So you wait while watching the news.

Car crash. A man. Blue toyota. On the road of his way back home. You immediately reach for your phone, calling his number in panic.

Could it be?

*

It’s already midnight when Seokjin opens his apartment door, expecting darkness—but instead he finds you sleeping on the couch, phone clutched on your chest. He closes in, a thin smile formed on his lips as his fingers soothes the creases of your crouching eyebrows, but it somehow sends you flinching on your spot. You are now wide awake.

“Seokjin, when are you home?” You demand, as his pupils dilate of confusion. 

“I just arrived. Sorry, I was—”

“I thought you died, you moron!” You shouts immediately. “Car crash news was on, man driving a blue toyota. I was so scared it was you that I even called the police, yet they said the victim is still in the hospital, I couldn’t know the identity. I was so scared...” You don’t even know why you’re tearing up right now—but the emotion is overwhelming, you must be talking nonsense.

Seokjin blinks, confused. “I’m sorry, I left my phone on mute. I forgot to let you know...”

You don’t even want to hear the rest, as you quickly storm off to your bed and force yourself to sleep, muffling your cries. The feeling you had for the last few hours, the horror of thinking Seokjin might be laid in blood on the street is something you’d rather not experience now or ever. 

In a few minutes, you feel the bed dips beside you. Seokjin is there. 

“Are you still awake?” He softly asks, but you decide to ignore him and closes your eyes.

“I am very sorry. I didn’t know… this would happen. But I should’ve let you know.”

You clearly know what he refers to. You usually don’t give a shit if he’d even come in dawn, but now you’re crying and throwing a fit when it’s not even something to fuss about. It’s only you and your overreacting fear.

“Get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?” He whispers as he tucked the blanket closer to you, stroking the top of your head carefully. 

*

The next morning, you wake up to the delicious smell of baked cheese. Unable to hold your scoff, you decided to stay a little bit on bed just to pisses him off. Frankly, you are still slightly vengeful for last night, with this urge to let him know your annoyance has not worn off.

So when he walks in and softly taps your shoulder, you are silent. “Hey. It’s already seven, you need to take a shower and come eat breakfast, hmm?” He persuades, but you turn your back to him, and Seokjin huffs at your petty acts, yet the guilt is still seeping in his chest. 

Seokjin sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t let you know work is unexpectedly late. I don’t want to make excuses, as I know it’s all my fault. I won’t do it again.”

At the sincerity in his tone, your anger quickly washes off, but still you’re doubtful on how to answer his apology. Should you just say yes? Or should you pretend anger?

“Hey, look at me.” Seokjin impatiently pulls you to face him, both his palms are on the sides of you. His eyes bore into yours, and you instantly turn stiff with his face so close. 

He takes a deep breath. “I’m very, very sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll do my best in letting you know if something came up at work and not make you worry anymore.”

“I like you.”

You wonder whose word that is, but it turns out to be you. It’s literally you who said those three words that you have been practicing since last night. You didn’t even know why it’s coming out right now, it’s just the way he looks at you right now—it’s the first thing you want him to know. 

“What?” He looks mildly bewildered.

“I like you, Seokjin. I… I don’t know when or how, but I really, really like you.” You confess. You finally confess, yet the way Seokjin looks immediately puts you in horror. That’s absolutely not the look you expected from him.

He laughs with sheer awkwardness. “Of course, we are married. You know I like you too, Y/N.” Yet you know he meant differently.

You know everything will go south the moment you try to say what you truly meant, yet you don’t want to lie anymore. You are tired of hiding what you’re feeling. “I am serious. I like you, in that way. I might even love you. The past two years, we’ve been with each other and I seriously couldn’t be happier with what we both had. I know this is not what we both planned—”

“It’s most absolutely not.” He cuts, distancing himself from you, face filled with panic.

“—but I want you to know. I want to try this, Seokjin. I know you might need some time, and what I feel might be one-sided, but I want you to know and try this. With me.”

A moment of silence to tense that you can slice it to choke yourself—when it’s only you and him who is avoiding your gaze. He then scoots off the bed, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

 “I… I’m gonna go. You should finish your breakfast.”

And then he left.

The misery doesn’t end there. You never felt someone could be so physically close yet so far away like what he’s putting between the two of you right now. For a straight week he literally never came home earlier than nine, and when he did, he’d sleep on the couch. And fuck did it hurt to sleep knowing he is out of your reach. You never know love could hurt like this—maybe you trusted him too much with your heart.

Saturday, you left a note that you’ll be off to your parents house for the weekend, and even then Seokjin didn’t contact you. And coming back home, your parents fortunately didn’t fuss as much, maybe since you just said you needed time away from him. 

The night comes, you are lounging in your room when your phone rings. At once you quickly jump to retrieve it, frown when seeing its a social media notification instead.

From : @pjmin

Hi, Y/N, this is Jimin! Hope you are doing well :) [21:29]

I know this is a bit hurried, but if possible, are you up to meet for coffee tomorrow? [21:29]

It’s okay if you can’t, just want to talk and catch up while I’m in town [21:30]

Let me know! [21:31]

Albeit doubtful, you are indeed curious about what he wants to talk about, knowing it must have something to do with Seokjin. Unable to hold your curiosity, you agree to a time and place with him.

Tomorrow, you walk into the agreed coffee shop, finding Jimin already seated, sipping on his beverages. You carefully pay attention to him, and notice he indeed has changed so much from that average kid you met when you were kids. Well, not that you have any rights to comment though.

“Hi.” He greets with a smile after you are seated in front of him. “I ordered you something. Hope you’re okay with caramel frappucino. You still like sweets?”

“Ah, I’m fine with anything. Thanks. And yes, I still like them. Kinda surprised you still remember, though.” You joke. Jimin lips curls.

“Well, the memory of a kid eating four cotton candy in one sitting until she passed out from high blood sugar is not really something one could forget.” He giggles, and you roll your eyes. Well, your childhood is indeed not a pretty one. “It was rather traumatizing, I could say.”

After a moment of catching up on how he’s currently doing right now, you mindlessly ask him. “So, where is your fiancé? I thought she’ll be with us here.”

Jimin instantly dims at the mention. “Uh… We broke up.”

You stop your movement and gape at him in disbelief. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, let’s just say once a cheater is always a cheater?” Jimin stares down at his drinks. “Not in that way, though. In the beginning, my family never really liked her, that’s why I’ve been holding off from marriage—no matter how much she pleaded to. We actually came back to get married, and get blessings. And just yesterday, my father sent me a whole report of her financial statement, slush funds, and everything. Well, there’s just too much thing she’s hiding behind my back.”

“Jimin…” You mutter, feeling bad for the guy. But still, you are unable to scoff at how blinded he has been. The girl is no doubt is using him for his money—and he just realized it now? 

“I know what you’re thinking. I must be a damn fool to just realize it now.” He humorlessly laughs, correctly reading your mind. “But maybe I was hoping she’ll one day change. I must be a total dumbass.”

“Yeah, you kinda are.” You had enough of holding back, and it surprises Jimin with your forwardness. You grin regardless. “But that’s okay. Everybody makes mistakes, right? We just gotta live with it.”

“Yeah.” He agrees with a saddened smile. “I know it doesn’t quite make sense telling this to Seokjin’s wife, but… I don’t know. I want you to know that I regretted it. I really shouldn’t have done that—cheating behind his back. Maybe this is karma, anyway. I deserved this.”

You sigh. “You know that you shouldn’t be saying that to me, right? You should tell it straight to Seokjin.”

Jimin sighs, like it has been bugging his mind for a long time now. “But of course he wouldn’t want to see me. And I have a flight tonight, back to Sydney, so I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Well, maybe an apology had to wait, then.” You shrug, and Jimin frowns. “You were his friend, Jimin. And I know if I were him, I’d want it coming from you.”

“I guess so. You were right.” He exhales loudly. “Thank you for that too. And agreeing to meet me. I’m really glad we talked. And don’t forget to stay in contact, okay?”

You hum with a wide smile. “Thank you too, Jimin.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot. I brought this for your wedding present.” Jimin crouches, retrieving a gift box as he displays a sincere beam. “I don’t know if Seokjin would like that I’m giving you this, but, yeah. I am very glad that you’re together. You guys seriously could be the best couple I know.”

You fiddly laugh when reminded of the current turmoil of your marriage. Well, he's better off not knowing, though. “You really shouldn’t have, but thank you for this.”

Well, you do hope that whatever Jimin’s gift is, Seokjin is still there to use them.

*

Sunday, you spend lounging on your bed, staring at the gift from Jimin, opened and stacked on your desk. You are still unable to comprehend his thoughtfulness. He gave you a couple bathrobe, a bottle of expensive Bordeaux Wine with two antique wine glasses. You messaged him thank you, and Jimin only sent a wink emoticon as an answer.

And then you are reminded of Seokjin’s scar. What happened with his ex, it was because he was too kind. He was too trustful, and it hurt to let go of someone you’ve been with for nearly half of your life and betrayed you like that. He is really the kindest soul out there—and then you realize that you missed him dearly. You wonder what he might be doing right now. Is he just as distraught as you are? Is he thinking about you as well?

In the middle of your wandering thoughts, your phone abruptly chimes. Finding an unknown number in the other line, you answer hesitantly. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N. This is Yoongi, Seokjin’s friend.”

It’s been a long time since you heard from him and you rise to sit, mildly perturbed. “Yes. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Not really. Apologize if I’m too forward, I know there’s a bit of problem at bay, but I know Seokjin’s dying to talk to you, and has been stressing about it since god-knows-when. He’s in my apartment now, can you… get him? Lounging in my apartment drinking is not going to solve anything.” He huffs lightly, and you sigh in distress.

“I know. But I am now in my parents house. Do you think.. I should just come?”

An evil laugh is heard on the other end. “No, that’s unnecessary. I know what’s even better that will help with this whole thing.”

Closing his call in daze, you are still waiting for the plan—but not even an hour in, a rushed knock is already heard from your front door. In a blink, Seokjin is on your bedroom door, carefully opening it. 

“Y/N?” He softly calls your name. “Are you… okay?”

Well, the scared look on his face does make you kind of guilty. Yoongi must have told him lies that you’re sick, and then he didn’t even spend another second and went straight to you. You have no idea what to feel, decide to hide yourself under your blanket.

“Hey, look at me.” He rushes, tapping the side of your arm carefully, but you are still unbudging. Impatiently, he effortlessly tugs the blanket off of you, until you are looking at him with a frown in your face. He rests his palm on your forehead, to your neck, baffled. “Are you sick? Yoongi told me you have high fever.”

“Well, I think Yoongi lied because he wanted to chase you out of his apartment.” You scowl, turning your face with a hint of blush on your face. You never know seeing him again could be this difficult. “I heard you’ve been a parasite to him.” You tease, slightly smiling.

“Yoongi, that disrespectful shithead.” Seokjin hisses under his breath, but it’s obvious that he is avoiding your eyes. He straightens and clears his throat. “Okay then. I think… I should go  home. Are you going to stay here?”

“Seokjin…” You call, holding on his wrist from leaving. “Are you angry at me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I am not angry at you.”

“But you are avoiding me. And we don’t even talk anymore. This is not how we used to handle problems. What’s wrong?” You persist, determined to end this cold war with him. 

Seokjin sighs. “I am just… scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I am scared of disappointing you.” He is visibly downcasted. “I know what you meant, Y/N. But I also know that I can’t be… what you want me to be. I can’t seem to forget... her. I don’t want to hurt you, or myself. And I know It’s difficult, and I don’t want to put you into that pain. It’s better this way.”

“I never pressured you into anything.” You reply, your voice started shaking. “I just want you to know, and try this with me. And you know holding onto something that has hurt you is not going to work, Seokjin. Please, please stop hurting yourself and try this. With me.”

“I-I can’t.” He hurriedly mutters, intending to walk out before you hold him back, crushing yourself into his arms, your tears burst into loud sobs.

For a good ten minutes, you spend it crying on his arms, tears wetting his white shirt. You don’t know what you feel—you’re dejected, sad, disappointed, angry, too many emotions that overwhelms your whole being but can only come in tears when he’s around. “Seokjin, I like you. Why can’t you give us a chance? Are you… that disgusted with me?”

At the self depreciating cries, he quickly looks down, both palms are on either side of your face. “Don’t be like that. I adore you so much, Y/N. Don’t hurt yourself because of me.”

“There’s no way I can’t be sad if you’re still hurting yourself. I just want you to be happy—with me. Is that so hard?” You weep, hiding yourself back to his chest. “I hate this. You know how much I hate crying.”

“Then you shouldn’t have cried that much.” He scolds, stroking your scalp like he usually does—and you slightly feel comforted at his familiar gesture.

After another ten minutes just hugging it out, he finally leans into you resting his head on top of yours, taking a deep breath of nerves.

“Okay. Let’s try then. But please be patient with me, hmm? I’ll try my hardest for us.”

*

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He shuffles in his sleep, but is unmoving. You frown, and call him one more time yet still met with no response. Huffing, you scoot closer to him, and clasp his nose to hamper him from breathing. At your disturbance he groans, finally opening his eyes. “Why are you waking me up now… This is still dawn.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have started getting back into gaming now. This is already half past seven, mister. Take a shower before you’re late.” You remind him, and as expected he already has two feet on the ground, running to the shower.

And as a kind and dutiful wife, you help him by preparing his outfits. You chose a nice blue themed suit this time, paired with a nice tie you bought him a few months back. Walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist, you are unable to hold your eyes from straying low. Damn, he really be packing like that, huh?

“What are you looking at, huh?” Seokjin squints his eyes at you, taking the prepared clothes. “Don’t look at me like that. I know I’m a whole snack, but I’m not a sexual object.” He jokes while wiggling eyebrows, and you scoff loudly when you can’t find a sassy reply for him.

You decide to wait in the living room, trying to calm your heartbeat. God, you’re such a loser, now even his bare chest can stupefy you like that. 

Regardless, you're more than content with the current relation with you and Seokjin. Both you definitely have gotten better, a bit more identical to wife and husband—even if it's probably only for you. You are trying your hardest for him, and when you know he can’t instantly fall at your feet and love you the way you do, you are satisfied. At least he’s not pushing you away.

“I’m a bit late for breakfast, but thank you for this.” He whispers, pointing to the pack of food you prepared for him. Noticing what’s missing, you pick the tie from his grasp, and circle around his neck and putting it on for him. He visibly stiffen on your arms.

After finished, you brush his suit’s shoulder and take a step back with a smile. “Let me know when you’ll be home, okay?”

“Okay.” He agrees and softly smiles. “See you.”

And then, he leaves a tender peck on your left cheek and exits the room. 

You literally can’t stop smiling the whole day.

*

One thing that you never really told anyone, is that you never had true sex. Like you had it once or twice in high school, but those annoying jerks never let you even finish and all you were left was disappointment. During college, you were too ambitious for your studies, so the thought of sleeping around was not on your agenda, and you never really believed in love or relationships. So when the thought of sex enters your mind this morning, it was quite frightening.

Having your lunch with only Jungkook, you decided to tell him your concern. He is quite shocked to say the least. “What the—you want to have sex with him? Finally?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You exhale, pushing away your food in disinterest. “This few days we are making progress. So I don’t know—isn’t sex always the solution? I thought it would do some good for us.”

“Well, it’s indeed a solution for most problems, I would say.” He giggles between words, and you roll your eyes in disgust. “But I don’t know about Seokjin. I must say—the man really has outstanding self control. Sleeping on one bed with a woman for two straight years and still hasn’t initiated sex? Crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been sleeping around before.”

The thought immediately darkens your whole mood, and Jungkook realizes his slips. “—or, he’s just a good masturbator? Nobody knows, Y/N, especially not me. Ha ha ha.” He nervously chuckles, sipping his drinks. “And the minority of men are not that much of an sex-fueled animal. He must be good at keeping his hands to himself, and please don’t mind what I said.”

What Jungkook said might be haunting you a bit that you request to get home early—when instead you’re going to the mall for shopping. You went straight to the ladies side where all kinds of bras or lingerie is available, but you literally have no clue what’s useful for your case. Already desperate, you finally call Jane for advice, discarding the huge probability of damage that you’ll be teased or ridiculed. 

“Oh my god! That’s very fun. I still can’t believe you lied to the boss because you’re preparing to bone your husband tonight.” Jane cackles, truly amused. “God, I miss those alone times with my husband. Don’t have kids too soon, Y/N. Be happy with your husband.”

“Stop rambling and help me pick!” You hiss, realizing a few stares has caught on you. She giggles, and then proceeds to help you pack home a black lacy three piece lingerie that will instantly shock your mother if she ever sees—which she said would ‘even spice up a fifty years old marriage’. 

You don’t even know how that’s possible, or why you even asked her for advice in the first place.

Waiting for your train home, you hold your shopping bag close to your chest, slightly  embarrassed. You don’t know what you should do then—should you just wear it and surprise him in the living room when he comes home? Or lay in your bed while trying to tease him? How does that actually work?

In front of your apartment, suddenly a call arrives. Seokjin. “Hey, Y/N. Work is a bit much today, I think I’ll be late. Will be home around nine, maybe. But can you wait for me? I forgot to bring my keys.”

Agreeing mindlessly, you sigh after ending the call, looking to the bag on your grasp. You really had a bad feeling about this.

*

It’s quarter to nine, Seokjin is already on the way home and you are already all cleaned up. You started with a good, long warm shower and shaves, curled your hair, and put up a light makeup. You even tried watching porn for learning purposes—but instantly grossed out after a few failed attempts at finding a good one. Well, maybe you should just kiss him and not say or do a thing you’ll regret.

Jungkook was right, though. There’s no way Seokjin can handle two long years without sleeping around. Yet even the thoughts of him sleeping with other girls leaves you qualmish. In the middle of your busy thoughts, the bell suddenly rings at the door. 

“Y/N? Are you there? Can you please open this?”

Walking with your heels on, your head is in haze at the thoughts of him seeing you like this. God, you start having second thoughts. Should you just run inside and change your clothes? But the remembrance of the price of this lingerie instantly blanches you. You’d rather be shamed in front of your husband than wasting his much money for nothing. 

“Good ev—what is this?”

Seokjin looks at you, visibly flabbergasted at your unexpected fit. Not even once that he would think you would wear something like this, especially for him—and now your face is already beet red. You are far too shy to do or initiate anything.

“Are you okay? What are you—”

Before he can say other things that will embarrass you even more, you quickly crash your lips to his, kissing it frantically while trying to make it as pleasurable as possible. Seokjin instantly gasps, his bag falling to the floor beside him. His hands rest on your back while you are focusing to make it as good as it can get for him. 

You bite his lips for entrance, and as he moans you slips your tongue inside, tasting the sweet beverages he just drank. At one point, he finally responds—kissing you back with tenderness instead that helps manage a pace that won’t leave you breathless.

Few more minutes of tasting his lips against yours, Seokjin finally lets you go, and unexpectedly laughs. Realizing how foolish you must have been for him, you quickly flee inside the room and jump under your blanket. You hiss and close your eyes, cheeks flushed at the remembrance of the kiss and his amused face staring at you—God, can you be more humiliating?

After taking a shower, Seokjin jumps on the bed and you instantly scoot yourself further away, with your back facing him. The silent giggle is still heard and frustrated, you sent him a glare. “Why are you laughing?! There’s nothing funny.”

“I’m laughing not because it's funny, but because you’re extremely cute.” He hums, probably noticing how the blush crept back on your cheek. You scowl in annoyance. “You’re so aggressive today, but how can you’re still so cute? What happened, hmm?”

“No, I just…Ugh, I’m trying here, okay? I know these past two years might have been frustrating to you, I won’t even be surprised if you’ve been sleeping around—”

“What? What are you saying? Who’s sleeping around?” Seokjin asks, puzzled. You bit your lips, looking down in shame.

“I don’t know, maybe because my friends told me they wouldn’t last without sex and I just… I thought you’re like that too. And we haven’t really talked about that, so...”

He laughs, pulling you close until you flush against his chest. He smells like oak and citrus and it entices you at once. “I haven’t been sleeping with anyone for the past two years. My last time was probably with a stranger when I broke up, I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Really? You don’t have to lie to me, I know it’s really—”

“I am serious. And why would I lie? I just… think it’s not right. To be truthful, I also don’t want you to sleep around with someone else when we’re married, I’m just trying to keep this as pleasant as it could be for us.”

Humming against his chest, you feel your heart warming at his considerate act. You really are marrying the right person—regardless of how unconventional it started. You can’t even imagine if it was someone else. Few minutes of silence just feeling his arms around yours until you speak and ruin the whole conversation. 

“So does it mean you’re a great masturbator?”

Seokjin laughs until his whole body vibrates. “Well, maybe you could say it like that.”

*

“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?” Jane asks during your lunch with Hoseok, Jungkook, and Namjoon with a hint of teasing on her tone. “I am surprised you even came to the office today. I thought you’d call in sick.”

“What the hell—it’s not like that.” You hiss at her, hoping she’d get your subtle message to quit it. Jane groans.

“Come on, Y/N, we are all adults here. Tell us! At least tell me how many rounds. What was it like? Did you use any other tools—like ropes or vibrators?”

Hoseok and Namjoon literally choke on their drinks, while Jungkook smirks in amusement at your flushed cheeks. “Don’t say it. Damn, Jane, it’s not it! What the hell are you saying?!”

“Well, I mean you literally called in sick to buy a lingerie—that I chose, for those taking notes—which literally will get him hot and erected in no time. How can I not be wondering?! What was it like? Tell me, I’m a lonely mother of two, Y/N. I just want to know, hmm?”

“Yes, tell us, Y/N! How’d it go with your lawfully wedded husband?” Jungkook joins in, giggling in mischief. You shot him an unamused look.

“Ah, I remember those days. Fucking till morning with my wife. Well, before the baby arrives.” Namjoon sighs dreamily, and you are visibly repulsed at his sentence. “I agree with Jane, Y/N. I love my child to death, but I’d rather wait for maybe another year or two.”

“It’s not like that!” You hide your face on your palm. “There literally nothing happened. I wore that lingerie, and surprised him when he came home, but we ended up doing nothing but kissing. He laughed, by the way. Thanks for that, Jane.” You glare at her, and she shrugs.

“Only that?” Hoseok asks, uncertain. “You’re already wearing lingerie and nothing happened?”

You vengefully nod. “That’s really all. Then he took a shower, we just talked until both fell asleep. Done.”

Namjoon contemplates, fingers on his chin. “That’s weird. Hmm. You don’t even bother jumping in the shower?”

“You are an idiot.” You sigh, massaging your temple—even if the idea struck you in a way. Should you have jumped into the shower with him? But you did your make up and all... “Even kissing him was already—”

Jungkook quickly cuts with roaring laughter. “Wow, I never know you’re that much of an idiot, Y/N! Ha ha ha I’m hungry, does anyone want to order food now?” As others are focused on skimming the menu, he sends you a look, and you just register that you were about to blabber the reality of your marriage. You grimace and mutter your thanks to him.

*

Two weeks have passed in a blink, and you are seriously pleased with the way things are. It feels like the boundary has been torn down between you two, and pretty clear that Seokjin’s been making an effort for your relationship as well. Usually, you always feel the things he does is based on mere obligation, but you know it’s no longer the case for him. You can feel how much he cares and adores you—receiving your bear hugs whenever he comes home, holding you close before coming to bed, kissing your forehead whenever it feels right. 

Just like today. You are feeling a bit feverish, and when you reply to his message asking how’re you doing, he immediately calls.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks after the first beep, tone laced with concern. “If you’re not feeling good, you should go home. Do you want me to call a taxi? Or can you wait for an hour, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine. This is not really rare. I’ll be fine soon.” You giggle, even inside of you tickles on the wondrous feeling of him caring for your well being. “I’ll go straight home after this.”

“Okay. I’ll get you.” He reminds and you hum in agreement. “Stay put until then, okay?”

I love you. “See you.”

I love you too. “Bye.”

And while driving home with Seokjin, you don’t know why but you feel physically much better than before. It just feels so right with him beside you. Especially when you initiate to hold his hand, he lets go for a second and repositions himself so he could hold your hand better—you seriously think you could fall sick on how jumpy you’ve become because of him. 

“Are you sure you’re sick? Or you just need some attention, hmm?” He teases, lightly pinches your cheek. You huff in embarrassment. 

“You’re annoying.” You are about to pull back your hand to your lap when he holds it tighter. 

“Who says I wanna let go.” Seokjin’s lips curl into a hearty smile. You still maintain your fake scowl. “You’re just so cute, that’s what.”

“Why are you so cheesy nowadays.” You burst in laughter, unable to hold it back. Seokjin beams, and reliably parks the car in your apartment’s basement with one hand. Finally silence, it's only you and him with the soft engine sound when he pulls you to his arms.

“Thank you for loving me. I seriously don’t know what you see in me, but I seriously can’t believe that you really like me and want to go through this.” He exhales softly, his left arms holding you by the waist, his right stroking your hair. “I hope that you know that I’m trying my best here. But I don’t know why, it doesn’t even feel like trying. Everything is so easy with you.”

“That’s really cheesy.” You chuckles, but tighten your arms around him regardless. “I’m also very thankful that you’re giving us a chance. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. I keep on making a mess, falling in love when I shouldn’t—”

“Hey, don’t say that. I am really happy we’ve been through this, or I might always chicken out. Even if it could be better if I wasn’t such a jackass, but I’m still grateful.” He coos, pecking your forehead.

Releasing his hug, you are about to mutter something when he cuts with his lips lurching unto yours, cutting whatever sound beside loud moans. You are taken aback, falling a step back before steadying yourself by finding purchase on his shoulder. His palms are on either side of your face, pacing himself. 

You spend no time responding, savoring the tender taste of his lips. He tasted just the way you remember, sweet and addicting that leaves you wondering why you haven’t been doing this since the beginning. Catching a breath, he laps at your lips for opening, and as you comply, he roughly pulls you closer by the nape, tangling his tongue like he is a man starved all this time. 

“Did you eat a donut?” You giggle when he lets your lips go, trailing pepper kisses on your neck instead. When his lips ghosts to the succulent curve of your v-neck top, you abruptly pull him up to see you in the eye. 

“Baby, don’t. Not here. We’re just steps away from the apartment and we’re not getting reprimanded of public indecency.” You remind him. Seokjin scoffs, letting out a deep sigh.

“You shouldn’t wear this top. This is not good for my health.” He frowns as you laugh. “And what are you thinking, I’m not going to have our first time in this car. It was just an intro, so you better be prepared.”

“Ooh, consider me spooked, then.” You smirk in mischief. It is somehow proven by the way Seokjin cannot take his hands off of your waist, ghosting right above the bump of your ass while ascending to your apartment. At all the action you feel the discomfort between your thigh—high chance you are already dripping wet. You have been feeling exceptionally horny this few days, anyway. 

“And don’t think I didn’t know the way you’re invading my space and grinding your ass last night when we went to sleep.” He suddenly mentions the event that leaves you all blushing—especially with the other residents on the elevator. You elbow him right away, finger crossed they won’t hear a word he’s saying.

Arriving in your apartment, Seokjin doesn’t hesitate when he pulls you for a deep kiss, his fingers hovering on the hem of your top to detach it from you, flinging it to wherever. Your skin shivers when his fingers are in contact with your bare skin, and to your bra as he grabs the succulent flesh that leaves you a moaning mess. 

“Baby, wait. I need to go to the restroom.” You whisper between the kiss, when  the incessant throb quite overwhelming your good sense now. Seokjin huffs in pout but let go either way. There’s no way he will say no to whatever request you have for him.

“Don’t be long, sweetheart.”

Running to your toilet with a qualmish feeling on your stomach, you quickly discard your panties with a hypothesis—to have it confirmed by how it has been ruined… with your period blood. You hiss, the frustration building up in your head. You are just about to have sex with your husband after long days of pining, and you just had to have the period on the exact same day. There’s gotta be wrong with your luck.

Finally cleaning yourself, you walk out to find your husband is sitting on the couch, a visible hard-on from his trousers. At the sound of you walking out, he stands but to find your deep frown. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, I hate this so much. I can’t believe we’re about to do this but I got to have my period.” You run to his side, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sorry for ruining this.”

At your visible dejection, Seokjin can’t bear but to giggle and it leaves you puzzled. How can he be laughing now? “Hey, it’s no matter to me. We can do something else about it, okay? I’ll take care of you. And we can leave that one for raincheck, so don’t be upset.”

Seokjin spends no other second in ravishing your lips while detaching your bra, discarding it in the same manner. His large palms grab the mounds, giving it a little squeeze before pinching your sensitive buds, especially now that you’re in your period. “Ugh, god. You’re so beautiful.” He gruffly mutters before taking your left mounds into his mouth, giving it a hard suck that you have to tug on his fluffy hair on how the pleasure has engulfed you. 

“Seokjin...” You moan his name as he shifts to the other mounds, his other hand strays to your clothed core, giving it a feathery touch before he pushes his digits. You bit your lips, holding back a sound.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I want to hear all of you tonight.” He reminds. You nod, feeling your mind has clouded in haze and all you can feel is how great he is with his deed.

Noticing how he has been focusing on your pleasure and satisfaction, you push him back to the couch, your knees on the wooden floor before taking a ride for yourself by opening the fly of his trousers. Seokjin gasps at your cold hands on his erected cock before it springs free in all its glory. 

“God, you’re so big. I’m not sure if I can take you end when this fucking period is over.” You are shocked at the size of his girthy dick, the precum is already leaking and you can feel your saliva swimming in your mouth—desperate for a taste.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I told you I’ll take care of you, okay?” He comforts, before his tone drops. “Now suck on my cock like you’re a bitch in heat.”

You give a kittish lap on the slit, tasting the saltiness that is unfamiliar to your tongue, but is easy to discard when encouraged by the moan he is letting out with such favor. Noticing that it might hurt him to be blown without proper preparation, you spit on his dick, before giving him a sensual pump. “Fuck, Y/N, where did you learn to do that—god!” He moans in rapture. 

Your mouth closes in, sucking on the tip before taking him in your mouth. You run your tongue along the vein of his beautiful cock, wrapping your lips tight around it, feeling how it throbs in your mouth. “Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” He hisses, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. But for the intention of teasing, you’re detaching your lips, going to the ridge of his cock’s length for a lick.

“Damn it, baby, why are you such a tease.” He groans, but is cut with your palm wrapping around his dick, the other slides up to his ball. You can feel a new wave of arousal coming out from your pussy. “Now let me fuck your throat.” He stoutly orders with hooded eyes, forcing your mouth back to take in his red tip and length until it hits the back of your throat—resulting in a gag. Seokjin gathers your hair, helping it out of your way before he raises his hips, feeling the wondrous feeling of your mouth clamming on his dick.

“Don’t flex your throat, sweetheart. Relax, okay? Tell me if you want to stop.” He stares at you, and you nod. You fucking love this, and you’d literally do anything to make him satisfied tonight. Your throat relaxes, and you savor his satisfied groans after feeling the back walls of your throat, with the tears streaking your cheek at his pace and feeling the burn. 

“O-oh g-god, F-fuck y-yes.” Seokjin pants, each syllable coming out as he thrust into your throat. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your pretty face while I fucked your mouth hard.” He angles you better until he is satisfied, the lewd image of his cock stuffed into your mouth instantly sends him jerking faster.

A throaty moan slips out of you, and the action successfully sends him to his edge, feeling the vibrations cause his cock to throb in your pretty mouth. “Fuck, this is amazing. You’re so fucking great.” The compliments earns him another groan from you, and it ignites the leading to his awaited orgasm.

Few other thrusts in your throat, you finally feel Seokjin constricting inside of you. He’s about to come, and you’re expecting him to release his load for you to swallow—you were prepared, overall—but unexpectedly he retracts from your mouth, instead jerking off in immaculate pace, and the loss of his dick leaves hollowness inside your throat. “I wanna cum on your tits, baby.” He gruffly whispers.

“Give it to me, daddy.” You persuade, as he pants, still working on his red cock—on the edge of his orgasm. Yet not even once he turns his gaze from you, all red and high with lust hooded in your eyes, the trace of tears on the side of cheek, the swole of your plump lips coated in his pre cum and spit. You look surreal. 

“Fuck-fuck! You’re so fucking beautiful.” He hisses, increasing the pace of his pumps before releasing his massive loads on your tits, painting it white. You look down to yourself, feeling his cum trickles down to your nipples and to your thigh. You swipe the liquid with your forefinger, before lapping it clean inside your mouth, internally revolting at the taste.

“Damn, this is crazy. How the fuck you are so good at that.” He sighs in delight, looking at you with lidded eyes and evident aftersex glow. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissue, cleaning his loads on your breast. Both of you involuntary laughs at the current event. 

“Come here.” He crouches down, scoops you into his hold before moving to the bedroom. You abruptly circle your arm around his neck, he closes in for your lips for another make out session on bed. While his tongue is lapping at your own, his fingers move to stimulate you with your hardened nipple until your breath is rigged. His right finger cups your clothed core, giving it a welcomed pressure and humping it until you’re left with moans and satisfied sighs, your finger clutches on his hair, tugging it lightly. 

Seokjin’s lips advanced to your ear,giving it a kittish lick. “And you better be prepared, I will eat you out and fuck you all night afer your period is done, sweetheart..”

*

It’s finally Friday, and you are at your desk for work after lunch. Suddenly, Jane closes in at you. “What are you looking at that seriously?” She inquires, noticing you’ve been staring at the calendar on your desk for longer than anyone should. You turn to her, and shake your head silently. 

“No, I just realized that it's soon December.”

“So?”

“It’s soon will be Seokjin’s birthday. He’s turning 34.”

Jane nods in understanding. “Will you get him anything?”

“I don’t know.” You tap your chin, thinking of what to get him. You’ve been scrolling through commerce websites, yet to find even an idea about what to give to him. And it hits you—maybe you don’t really know him after all. “What did you get your husband for his birthday?”

She chuckles. “Last birthday I gave him a responsibility of a lifetime—my pregnancy test came out positive. I wouldn’t say it was a very good birthday present though, as we didn’t really expect a pregnancy after all.”

It dims you right away. Pregnancy? It is too far fetched, right? You haven’t even discussed it with Seokjin—and you don’t want to directly throw him a responsibility for another life being when your romantic relationship has basically just started. Days after days of late nights humping and blowjobs, waiting for your period is over is not basically a very firm foundation for having kids. You don’t even know if you’re ready for it.

And today is the last day of your period. Seokjin has actually asked if you want a dinner together—and you said yes. Based on his promise, today should also be the day you will be making love till dawn. But this dampens your mood a bit, at the thought of having kids frightens you. 

Scrolling through instagram, you see that Tasha, your sister-in-law has posted a series of photos from the previous birthday lunch of your father-in-law. The first photo is the five of them smiling together, the second is their three children with the grandparents, and the next one is Seokjin, smiling while he’s caging Taehyun’s little frame inside his arms. You smile longingly at that. Nobody can deny it though—Seokjin is amazing with kids, you know how much he loves them. And there are countless times you pity him for marrying you—as children were never part of your plan before.

But now you love him. And so does he.

And the thoughts have been haunting you that even when you’re seated in front of him in a high class restaurant, Seokjin can sense something is bothering your mind. He holds you by the hand across the table, and how you instinctively flinch confirms his suspicion. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You smile nervously at him, shrugging. “I am fine, but yeah.. Something is just.. bugging my mind, that’s all.”

“What is it?” He asks softly, a bit worried. “Don’t you like this place? Are you cold? You’re not sick, right?”

“It’s not it.” You giggle at his cute attention. “I just... you know, I saw the date and realized that you’re having a birthday soon. I just don’t know what to get you. A bit upset that maybe it feels like I don’t know you that well, that’s all.”

His face lightens at that, the creases of his smile evident. “No, you don’t have to get me anything. I’m just happy with what we have right now.” He gazes at you, pulling your hands to give it a light kiss. “I am just.. very thankful that you’re here.”

“But I want to give you something.” You frown, looking down. “It feels like you’re always taking care of me, and I’m always at the receiving end.”

“Why are—Y/N, you are the most selfless person I know. The way you take care of me just shows how much I owe you with anything I have. I want to make you happy, as you already made me the happiest I can be.” He explains in rush, like he’ll suffocate if you don’t realize how precious you are to him any time soon.

“Thank you.” You gratefully replies, holding back the tears from falling.

The next two hours, you’re already in bed with Seokjin on top of you, both your clothes are far long discarded on the floor. His palm is grabbing your succulent mounds, his right palm on the bed beside your face. His lips are lapping at yours, savoring the wine you consumed from the previous dinner.

“Seokjin, please put your dick inside me.” You moan before biting his lower lips. He smirks haughtily.

“Not so fast. I promised I’d eat you, didn’t I, kitten?” He questions, before moving his kisses to your neck, breast, stomach and to your thigh. You bite your own lips, your breath hitched when feeling the cold air he blows to your throbbing core. 

He laps at your cunt, his fingers sensually moving in circles for stimulation, and when his tongue is finally in contact with your clit, you feel the new wave of arousal is dripping out. Seokjin grins, instantly welcoming it with his tongue that leaves you a moaning mess. “Kitten, you’re dripping so much. Do you want to be fucked that badly?”

“Yes, yes, daddy. Don’t hesitate, please fuck me.” You breath out, finally pulling his face closer to your cunt. Seokjin slaps them harshly, eyes turning dark at your disobedience.

“Are you not going to be patient, kitten? Do you want daddy to stop fucking you?”

The thoughts literally scare your whole being that you deters from touching him. “Daddy, please. Fuck me, stuff me with your big cock.”

After that he continues on with his crazy good tongue, moving in and out of you until you screams his name in pleasure. Not only his tongue, his digits enter you in exchange, furthering them inside to scissors you until you are crying of ecstasy. As your orgasm builds up, he circles your clit in wondrous motions with simultaneous licking your cunt which helps you reach your edge. And not even another minute, you cum generously on his tongue.

Few minutes of reaching your breath, Seokjin laughs at your fucked out expression, your orgasm has caught up with you. You are literally glowing with sweat and satisfaction that it literally takes his breath with how blissful you feel, because of him.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby. I still need to ride you, need you to cum inside me.” You remind him right after finding his strangely contented expression staring down at you. “Just... let me take a breather, okay?”

“Are you sure you can ride me? It seems like you lost all your energy.” He giggles, plopping beside you on bed, pulling you close to his chest, that you are leaning on his arm. “I am marrying a fifty years old. How come you already lost your stamina after an orgasm?”

“It’s not it! I’m just a bit tired after work.” You scowl, rolling your eyes at his teases. “You are so annoying.”

He smirks, pecking you in the lips. “But you love me, right?”

“My fault, I know.” You huff. In Seokjin's hearty smile, and you suddenly are  reminded of the photo of him Tasha posted this afternoon. 

“Seokjin. Can I ask you something?” You ask, fidgeting your finger. Seokjin hums. “You know, I saw Tasha posted a photo of you and Taehyun this morning. And I was just thinking… if you want a child?”

“What?” He looks down at you, a bit of confusion written on his face that it scares you he’ll not take this like you want him to.

“No, it’s just—I just think that you like kids very much and they like you too, I am just thinking if you want a child. I don’t mean it now, b-but if y-you want now—”

“Sweetheart, has this been bothering your mind when we had dinner? About having a child?”

You look down, suddenly not courageous enough to face him, afraid of finding the disappointment or doubt in his eyes. “Yes. No. Maybe? I don’t know.”

Seokjin closes you again now that you are chest by chest, face by face, his arms circling your back. “I want everything with you, Y/N. At the right place, at the right time.”

He continues, fixes your locks and rests a few lost strands behind your ear lovingly. “I know this has been hard, especially for you. Pregnancy, birthing is never easy, and I know it’s not really in your plan, even including me. So I will never force you to anything. I want everything you want, okay? And it’s your body. It’s your choice.”

You nod, burying your face on his shoulder, finding purchase on the musky scent of his. Oh, how much you love this man. “Thank you. I don’t know why you always have the rightest thing to say. I really, really envy and love you for it.”

“You went through for me. Of course I want to give you everything. I love you, Y/N, until the sea sleeps.” 

“Until the sea sleeps?” You cocks your head in questions. He nods affirmatively.

“Yes. If life is the sea, I want to go through it with you. Until it ends. Until it sleeps.” He plants kisses lovingly on your forehead, to your nose, and finally, to your lips. But at once you finally push him on his back, internally shouting in joy at his choice of grand large bed.

“How can you say such thoughtful and beautiful words with your dick is pressing on my stomach.“ You hisses in fake chagrin, before continuing. 

“I love you too, but for now let me ride you, daddy...” You whisper sensually, grinding at his half-erected cock. Seokjin smirks in amusement, resting both his palm behind his head as he enjoys the lewd sight, your breast jiggling wonderfully, your cold hands palming his dick.

Oh god, how much he loves you...

*

2 Years Later....

“Honey, can you help grabbing the diapers?” You pleaded from your bedroom, carefully cleaning your five months old baby girl, throwing away the spoiled diapers near your feet. Seokjin quickly arrives with a fresh set of diapers, baby oils, a fresh pair of baby overalls and beige shirt.

“Thank you, honey, you’re the best.” You smile as he pecks your lips slightly. You continue your work in changing Mina’s clothes as the baby lets out a light gurgles, Seokjin sitting across the bed, his lips curling at the beautiful sight. 

After finally falling in love with each other two years ago, you and Seokjin decided to go with your own pace and did not rush into having kids. It was the best decision after all, not a hint of doubts when you knew he’s just as invested as you are in this marriage. You decided to savor it all, both you and Seokjin took leave from work and humdrum life to explore the other side of world together. 

And eight months together passed, you and him both decided it would be the perfect time for you to start getting off the birth pill. Few months of trying and getting pregnancy, you and Seokjin are granted the beautiful healthy baby girl, whom both you named as Kim Mina.

Holding her then or now, you just know she’s already the best gift of your life that you’d do anything for her happiness and well being. 

“So, is Taehyung and Tasha anywhere near our house?” You ask, glancing at the clock. “They are probably the only people I’d worry at this point. All my work friends are already on the way. Yoongi is already in the way, right?”

“Yes he is. But no worry about Taehyung, sweetheart. I have made him promise or else he’ll have to be a clown for Mina’s birthday party.” Seokjin laughs. “All the food is served, everything is in the way it should be. We are going through this.”

“I can’t believe we’re finally having a housewarming party. And a baby too.” You laugh dreamily, picking up Mina to cradle on your chest. “Four years ago us would never believed this.”

“Four years ago Seokjin was a blind fool, I had to say. He almost missed the greatest woman on the planet.” Seokjin warmly back hugs you, kissing your cheek lovingly. You hum in mirth. “Luckily this greatest woman is willing to fight for him. The greatest gift for that lucky bastard, I have to say.”

“Well, she loved him too much, I have to say. It was all worth it.”

With the end of the sentence, a chime of bell is heard—somebody is coming. You quickly walk to the door with Seokjin on your side. The first one to arrive is Hoseok and Jungkook, the only single bachelor of the party. “Hi, Y/N, Seokjin! Congratulations, the house is incredible.” Both of them give you a sided hug, and Jungkook shoves two bottles of wine on your hold. 

“Drink up!” Jungkook giggles, kissing your baby’s cheek as he taps on Seokjin’s shoulder as a greeting, walking into your house to your tables of served dishes. 

In a spare of minutes, few of yours and Seokjin friends are walking in—Jane and her family, Namjoon and his wife and kid, and Yoongi with his girlfriend. You welcome them all with a wide smile, thankful for their presence.

Your parents and Seokjin’s surprisingly arrive right after each other, simultaneously gushing at their grandchild. “Mina! My very cute grandchild!” Your mother squeals in delight after giving you and Seokjin a greeting hug. Seokjin’s mother immediately scoops Mina out of your grasp, moving inside the house to play with her.

Walking around talking with your friends, another bell chime is heard from the door. You and Seokjin walk to open it, finding Jimin on the door with Yoonji, his wife of three months. Their face instantly lightens up at you, and you move to hug the blissful new couple. 

About Jimin, he finally moved back from Sydney to Seoul for good one and a half years ago. He was taking over a few branches of his father’s business, and you started rekindling the friendship with him. And you don’t want to brag, but you are the matchmaker for Jimin and Yoonji. She was the new assistant manager at your unit, and one dinner, you invited Jimin for dinner with your work friend’s and they instantly hit the bat right away. It doesn’t even take a year for Jimin to get on one knee and propose to her.

“Hi, Seokjin.” Jimin grins in courtesy. Seokjin answers with a laugh, pulling the younger guy into a side hug. You point Yoonji her way to Hoseok and Jungkook. “Congrats on the new house, man. This place is great.” Jimin sincerely compliments, handing him a large box of  housewarming gifts which Seokjin gladly receives with loud squeaky laughs of thank you.

It’s also been a year since Jimin had the talk with Seokjin, in which they bonded over alcohol and food. Jimin also apologized to what he did a few years back, and Seokjin instantly accepted it—no hard feelings, knowing that it was for the best as he finally found you, the best thing that happened to him. After that, Jimin basically joins the gang with Seokjin and Yoongi, and also hangs out with your friends slash his wife’s friend. It was all good.

After the housewarming party time finally arrives, the helper hands the drinks in tray for a toast. You lean onto Seokjin’s chest, as he begins the welcoming toast.

“Thank you everyone for coming. This hasn’t been a very easy ride with me and Y/N, but we are very thankful to where we are right now. A beautiful baby, a great house, a great loan—” Everyone chuckles at his joke. “ —but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wanna say thank you to my wife, who has stood by me through thick and thin. I’d never be able to do it without you.”

Suddenly, the shouts to kiss are visible—high chance initiated by Jeon Jungkook—and you giggle before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. The aws are heard, and Seokjin looks back to the audience. “Thank you to my family and friends. Your great support is the reason we are here right now. I am very grateful.”

“Let’s toast, for this wonderful day. May we always be healthy and happy. Cheers!” Seokjin smiles and clinks his glass of champagne to yours. The sound of glass clinking against each other is heard simultaneously, and you sips on the beverage. Seokjin gazes down on you, a toxicated smile on his lips. 

“What?” You ask, falling a bit shy.

“I am so happy. You make me very happy, and I thank you for that.” He closes, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you, sweetheart. Until the sea sleeps.”

You hum in serenity, savoring his wondrous scent. “I love you too, baby. Until the sea sleeps.”

Suddenly, the doors are busted open, Taehyung rushed eyes staring confusedly at the large group of people settling on their places, Taehyun on his grasp. “Am I late? I don’t have to be a clown, right?!”

Just an disinterested glace before the crowd disperse around the home in group. Seokjin cunningly smirks at him, walking closer and taps his shoulder in a fake comforting manner. 

“Sorry, brother. Looking forward to you coming as a clown in Mina’s birthday party, okay?”

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, but is not missed by your approaching mother-in-law. She immediately screeches loudly in anger, completely enraged with both hands on hips.

“Kim Taehyung! Your son is there, and you curse?! How dare you set out a bad example for your son?!”

He grimace, glaring at you and your husband who are laughing heartily at his clear misery.

“Lord, have your mercy.”

Thank you for reading! it’s such a great ride writing this. Credits to one quora answer I read that inspires this whole fluffy prompt. And all the smut writers that inspired me on writing such unholy scenes lol

Do slide into my ask box and let me know what you think! 🤩💜💌  And check out my other fics ➡ (click here)!

#bts #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts jin #bts fanfic #bts x reader #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #bts seokjin smut #taehyung #jungkook #ot7 #ot7 smut #seokjin x reader #taecalikook #bts marriage au #bts strangers to lovers

[ssa-babygirl]

Out of my League [Part 6]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: JJ gives you some bad news and Spencer feels like he’s only making matters worse. For both of you.

Warning(s): Angst, mentions of grief and death, allusions to relapse, swearing, mentions of drinking, this is lowkey a mess so i may have missed a couple of warnings

Author’s Note: IT’S HERE!!!! YAY!!! that’s the happiest you’re gonna be all chapter. The next one may take a bit of time and i am SORRY for that because this may or may not have a sorta cliffhanger you should just read it to find out!! also heads up there are a lot of perspective changes later on please just imagine how it would be cut together in a movie that’s how i wrote it OK ENJOY DON’T BE MAD JUST TRUST ME OK??

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington, D.C., 2011

(Reader POV)

You’d gone to three different funerals since moving to D.C. Three more than you would have liked, obviously, no one ever really wants to go to a funeral.

The first had been your father’s. You had Jamie and your mom, but you needed Spencer. He was out on a case and you couldn’t blame him for not being there, but he made up for it a million times over. Your dad’s death wasn’t unexpected, and while it hurt to say goodbye, it was relatively easy to move on.

The second had been for Aaron’s ex-wife, Haley. You didn’t really know her, but Aaron was your friend and you wanted to support him. That and Jamie got along very well with Jack, acting almost as an older cousin, and you know how important family is when you lose a parent.

The third and most recent funeral was the worst one: Emily’s. She was there one day, raring to go and take on the world, gone the next. 

The day you found out was just terrible. JJ had called you herself to tell you. You managed to stay calm until you hung up, when you practically threw your phone onto the kitchen table and collapsed into a chair, tears pouring down your face as silent sobs wracked your body.

Jamie ran in at the sound of you crying, “Mom? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You shook your head, unable to speak. Jamie wordlessly wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you as you struggled to regain your voice. When you could finally breathe and relay the news you just received, you choked out, “Aunt Emily died last night.”

Then Jamie started crying too. He curled up into your shoulder and sobbed into your shirt, soaking you to the skin, almost like he was little again. You crumbled at the sound of his whines and cries. Every part of your chest ached with the weight of your grief. 

“What happened to her?” He finally whimpered.

“She has a dangerous job,” You didn’t even notice the tense you used, “A bad man was after her.”

“Well, is everyone else okay? What about Uncle Derek? What about Doc—”

“Everyone else is fine, baby, no one else was hurt. Doc’s fine.”

You sat still for God knows how long, silent, clutching each other like a lifeline, praying this was all just a dream and that you’d get a call from Emily telling you it was all some sick joke. Of course, you’d be furious with JJ, but at least there wouldn’t be a hole in your family where Emily had once been. 

Your mother came over to help you cook, the same role you had taken years prior while your father was sick. She consoled you and Jamie for the next two days and then drove you to the funeral. You got out of the car and walked in silence to the church, clutching Jamie’s hand as you entered. 

Aaron was the first at the door. He wasn’t one for hugs, but when he saw you, exhausted and barely standing, he pulled you and Jamie in tight. The hug was brief, but it helped, God, did it help. Dave was just behind him, and he didn’t hesitate. He ruffled Jamie’s hair and gave you a kiss on both cheeks. JJ was holding Henry in the corner, and Will gave you a weak smile. Derek and Penelope were holding one another, both shaking as they cried. Your grip on Jamie’s hand grew tighter, tighter, tighter until you saw him.

You then dropped Jamie’s hand as you ran over, arms open wide as your son followed close behind, “Spence--”

He returned your hug instantly, burying his face in your hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t call--”

You felt Jamie join the hug, but you kept your head buried in Spencer’s chest, “No, I’m sorry too, I didn’t know what to do.”

“Me neither.” He pulled away, wiping away some tears and sniffling, “I’ve just been holed up in my room reading Vonnegut all for the past three days.”

Of course, “What books?”

“Mostly Slaughterhouse-Five, it was her--”

“Her favorite,” You nodded as you spoke the last part in unison with him.

“Yeah. I read it out loud just…” His voice cracked and the words looked painful to get out, “Just in case she could hear me.”

Your heart broke imagining him wrapped in blankets, eyes rimmed red as they glazed over the worn-out pages. You ached at the thought of his voice cracking just as it did before as he read for hours and hours, begging the universe to let Emily hear him, “She did. And she loved it.”

“I just hope she didn’t realize I was crying,” he muttered, and it shattered you, “She wouldn’t want us to cry for her.”

“You’re right, but I know she’d be unbelievably offended if we didn’t cry just a little bit,” Spencer’s tearful smile was enough to make you feel slightly better. There was still hope.

Your mom took Jamie home after the wake, knowing that you needed time with the team to feel like a person again. You went home with Spencer. He shouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

“You’re really good at taking care of me,” he smiled weakly, sipping the tea you made for him.

“Yeah, I had a good teacher.” Your mother was always there when you lost someone. You had your ups and downs, but she was a good mom.

“Does it get easier? Losing someone?”

“No. It always hurts just as bad,” you sigh, “But moving on used to be a lot harder.”

“Do you still miss him?”

“Of course I do, but less than I used to.” You still talked to your dad sometimes, something you did as a kid when he wasn’t home, just telling him about your day or narrating what you were doing. Even after all these years, you still found yourself explaining to no one that you had to run to store and buy bread to make Jamie’s lunch.

“I see little pieces of him everywhere I go. Jamie has the same exact smile. His favorite book when he was little was the same one my dad read to me. No one ever really leaves. Family, friends, they stick with us.”

“I’ve never lost a friend before. When Gideon left, I knew he was out there. Same with Elle. I could have Garcia find them right now and call them up to see how they’re doing, but Emily--” his voice cracked too much for him to want to continue, so he dropped it altogether.

“Did I ever tell you about my college roommate, Juliet?”

“No.”

“We were best friends. We did everything together: Movie nights, parties, all that. The night of our last final senior year, we decided to go clubbing to celebrate.”

You told him the whole story. The drinking, the dancing, the guy. You don’t remember his name, but you remember trusting him. He was sweet and Juliet liked him, so when she came to you at the bar after dancing with him telling you she was going home with him, you let her.

“I was happy for her! She had just gone through a breakup a few months before, so it was nice to see her getting some,” you let out a weak laugh, “I remember the last thing I said before she left was ‘Okay, have fun, call me in the morning, we’ll get brunch. I love you.’” Spencer winced, almost as if he knew where this story was going. Given his line of work, he was expecting far worse, but he at least knew that we didn’t get lunch the next morning.

“I went home a little bit later, I got bored, so I got a taxi home.”

You close your eyes and sigh deeply, “I’m in the back seat when I get a call. It was Juliet’s phone.”

“She wasn’t calling you, was she?”

“No, it was the police. Juliet didn’t have a good relationship with her parents, so I was her emergency contact.” You had to plan the funeral, invite her parents, look them in the eye and lie to them that Juliet wanted to make amends with them. The horrified guilt on their faces almost made it worth it, “The car she was in got t-boned when the guy ran a red light. He wasn’t as sober as we thought he was.”

“She didn’t make it.” Spencer guessed for you.

“No. She was dead before they got her out of the ambulance.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If Juliet hadn’t…” You still couldn’t bring yourself to actually say it, “I wouldn’t have moved home, I wouldn’t have gotten back with Kyle, and I wouldn’t have Jamie. I don’t wanna tell you that something good will come out of this, because that’s a horrible thing to hear, but looking for an opportunity to find something good can’t hurt.”

“I can’t just look for something new when all i can think about is how I should have been able to help!”

“You really think I didn’t blame myself for what happened to Juliet? That every night for years after I thought I could have done something differently, and sure, I could have, but it’s not like I knew what was going to happen, and I couldn’t keep blaming myself.”

“It’s not the same, you don’t get it.” His fingers ghosted over old scars on his forearms, scars you didn’t want to think about where they came from.

“I do, Spencer. Emily was my friend too. And because she was my friend, I know she would never let you blame yourself for it. She knows you can’t save them all. All we can do is save ourselves,” you took his hand in yours, he still tensed up, “‘cuz that’s all the people we lose want us to do.”

He turned his head up from the floor and met your eyes. Once you gazed into those deep hazel irises, the tension in his hand melted away. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a deep breath, squeezing your hand like a lifeline, “Thank you.”

“Of course, Spence.”

“I’m sorry for snapping.”

“You apologize too much.” You had nearly forgotten exactly what he said to you that night in the hotel bar in Vegas all those years ago, but clearly, he hadn’t, he couldn’t, and he didn’t, because after a few moments of staring into your eyes and slowly drifting towards you in peaceful silence, he closed the gap between you both and kissed you.

Spencer Reid was kissing you.

This was happening.

Nearly two decades of being friends--

Years of being totally, ridiculously, and most importantly, cluelessly in love with each other, Spencer Reid was kissing you. You were almost so overjoyed at that moment as you started to kiss him back that you nearly forgot that your friend was dead and you were supposed to be comforting him. This wasn’t comfort, this was what Kyle did to you all those years ago.

You broke the kiss before he did something he’d regret, “Spence…”

“Oh my god,” he removed his hands from your face and shifted his entire body away from you, “I’m so sorry.” 

“No, don’t-”

“Oh my god, I’m an idiot!” He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands as his hands landed at the back of his neck, forcing his head to stare in his lap.

“No you’re not! Hey. Genius. Look at me.” He didn’t. “You’re not. You’re just in a bad place, I get it.”

“No you don’t. This time, you don’t.”

“What do you m—”

“Look, I don’t wanna kick you out but I really think you should leave.”

“Oh… yeah… sure… okay.” You slowly rose from the couch on weak knees. Whether it was from adrenaline or anxiety, you couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be! Just… please, take care of yourself?” You glance around the room for your belongings, “Shower, eat something, get some rest, please. And call me if you need anything--”

“Y/N, please, just go.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as you reached for the doorknob. You turned your head just enough to look over your shoulder to say, “Goodnight, pretty boy,” before you left. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, breathing heavily. 

           (Spencer’s POV)

Why was I kicking her out?

Why was I telling her to leave?

Why was I pushing her away?

Why did I kiss her?

Why did she push me away?

Why did she call me “pretty boy?” She never--

The pieces fell into place as they often do, all at once with the force of a car slamming into a pole at fifty miles per hour. 

“Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, Princess.”

She remembered that night.

She remembered that night when I drove her home and put her to bed and--

And I told her I had a crush on her in high school.

And I almost said I loved her.

And I almost kissed her then.

God, I wish I had. Any time would have been better than now.

          (Reader POV)

You didn’t know you could miss someone so much while they were behind just one door. You could’ve turned around right then and knocked and waited for him to be ready to talk about what just happened. About him kissing you. About you kissing back. About you stopping him. About that drunken night when you let it slip how pretty you thought he was.

You should’ve just waited.

But you couldn’t stand to be that close to him while he wanted to be as far away from you as possible.

So you ran.

You practically sprinted down the stairs and out of his building as quickly as you could, getting in your car and pulling out of the parking lot and getting the fuck away before you hurt anyone else, including yourself.

          (Spencer POV)

I couldn’t just let her walk out like that.

I had to say something.

I had to go after her.

I had to get her back.

I needed her.

But when I opened the door, it was like she had never been there. 

I leaned on my door frame staring at the staircase down the hall, wishing I had the energy to run after her, to catch her before she reached her car, to stop her from driving away, to tell her I was sorry, to beg her to please, please, come back upstairs and talk to me, but my feet were fixed to the floor and my legs were weak. I just closed my door with my back and slid down to the floor, unable to bring myself to cry anymore. I sat there for god knows how long until I found the energy to crawl over to the coffee table where I had left my phone, picked it up, and dialed a number.

          (Reader POV)

You jumped slightly at the sound of your phone ringing, you shuffled through your bag in the passenger seat, desperately trying to find it before the light turned green. Some foolish part of your mind told you it was Spencer, you wished it was Spencer, you wanted nothing more than to turn your car around and talk it all out with him, tell him you were sorry, that you loved him, that you needed him, but your heart sank when you looked at the screen and saw the number.

It was a just fucking spam call.

You threw your phone back in your seat and beat your fists against the steering wheel, groaning and wishing the fucking light would just turn green already. When it finally did, you slammed on the gas a bit too quickly, sending the car jolting forward. You barely stopped the entire rest of the ride home, the universe must have sensed your impatience. As you finally pulled into your driveway, your skull felt as though it was packed with cotton, your tear tracks drying on your cheeks.

You raced up the steps to your door, fussing with the keys and trying to unlock the door as quickly and quietly as possible. You inevitably made noise as you entered, prompting a light to turn on in the living room. Your mom rose from the couch she had been sleeping on, her face dropping from annoyed to concerned.

“Toots, you’re home already? I thought you wouldn’t be back until morning.”

You had thought that you were fresh out of tears, but apparently, you still had more to spare, seeing as you broke the second the words left her mouth.

“Oh my, what happened?” She raced towards you, wrapping you in a hug, “Is Spencer okay? Did something happen?”

As confused and sad as you were, you couldn’t stop the smile that had suddenly appeared on your face, “He kissed me.”

“He what?” She broke the hug, holding your face in her hands and wiping tears off of your cheeks, “Then honey, why on Earth are you here?”

          (Spencer POV)

“You kicked her out? Why?”

“Why do you think I called you, Jennifer? What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“Well, what exactly happened?”

“I freaked out, she came over, we talked, I,” I took a deep breath and braced myself for her reaction, “I kissed her—”

She almost choked on her coffee, “And you didn’t lead with that? Don’t you think that’s a little important?” 

“I was trying to avoid reliving it for as long as possible.”

“You’ve wanted this since high school, why wouldn’t you want to relive it?”

“She pulled away.” There was no anger or sadness behind my words. I don’t sound hurt as I recount the scene, “She took my hand, I kissed her, she stopped me.”

JJ’s hand brushed over my shoulder and I flinched away slightly.

“I apologized immediately, she wasn't mad or anything, I just…” I trailed off, unable to admit that I just couldn’t look at her anymore. I never thought I’d get tired of seeing her face, but I had needed her to leave. When she pulled away, all I could think about was the sound of Alexa Lisbon sneering at me as Kyle and his goons tied me to that goal post.

“She wanted to help me, and I know she did, but…”

“She couldn’t.” JJ finished my sentence.

I shook my head, “Not this time.”

“But now you want her to come back?”

“And I don’t know how to tell her that because I fucked up.”

“What did she say after you told her to leave? Did she just go?”

          (Reader POV)

“I told him not to feel bad and to take care of himself.” You hadn’t had time to tell him how much you wanted to kiss him but neither one of you was in the right state of mind for that. 

“Right, yeah, and did he say anything else?”

You winced at the memory of how his voice sounded. “He kept telling me to leave, so I just went for the door and said--”

          (Spencer POV)

“‘Goodnight, pretty boy,’” I grumbled, “That was the last thing she said.”

“Okay?”

“She never calls me Pretty Boy.” I told her the whole story. When I was done, her eyebrows were drawn together and lips were pressed together in a thin, worried line uttering, “Spence…”

“What?”

She sighed, saying nothing and smirking slightly to herself, but saying nothing.

“Jennifer.”

“She loves you, genius.”

“Then why’d she leave?”

“Because you told her to. And…” she hesitated, almost scared to say anything else. I was scared to hear it. JJ took my coffee away and dumped it down the sink, a silent indicator that I had enough and needed to go to bed.

She turned back to me and leaned over the table again, making sure I'd look her in the eyes, “She’d do anything for you.”

I just stared down on my hands on the table, unable to say another word, unable to defend myself, unable to fight anymore.

Because I knew she was right.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa​ @ellvswriting @baby-pogue​ @purelyprentiss​ @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13​ @deni-gonzalez​ @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts​ @bisoner​ @moonstarrnghtsky​ @smurfflynn​ @eldahae​ @t0xicllama​ @undeniablyyou​ @staplernpaper​ @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies @dazzlingnights @uhuhuh​ @booksarekindaneat @crimeshowtrash @carlgrxmes @collectiveuniverses @annesauriol

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #CM #cm fan fiction #cm imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg #mgg angst #spencer reid angst

[starlightrows]

Exactly The Way You Are

Pairing: Modern!Boba Fett x fem!reader 

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: EXPLICIT self body shaming, potential body dysmorphia, hurt/comfort, body worship, oral (f receiving), soft!Boba 

Summary: You’re feeling insecure about your body and start changing how you dress in attempt to hide from your negative feelings. Boba is not having any of it. 

AN: Requested by @otp-lovers   

Every single one of you is beautiful, exactly the way you are

Early spring is not usually the optimal time for spending the day at the beach. It’s still too cold to swim, and at times too cloudy to tan. But if you’re heading to the coast to enjoy some fresh air, listen to the waves crash on the beach, and enjoy a bowl of clam chowder it’s perfect! You and two of your girl friends decided to drive out for the day to get some lunch, take a nice long walk and catch up on life. Normally you would have liked to do a day trip like this in the company of your boyfriend Boba, but he’s been exceptionally busy with work the last couple days. 

“You’re tempting me to play hooky and just go with you in that sundress baby,” he pauses by the door taking the time to rake his eyes over your form. 

“You could, I don’t think the girls would mind,” you smile sweetly batting your eyelashes for him knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to say yes. You just wanted to tease him. He groans in response, but shakes his head, also knowing he is not at liberty to accept your offer. So instead he tells you to go enjoy yourself, say hello to your friends for him. 

The drive down to the coast is pleasant with good music, your friends singing and talking and laughing, and the weather is actually even nicer than you expected. And there isn’t even a line to get into your favorite restaurant in the area. After a lovely lunch you and your friends take off your shoes and walk down the beach to dip your toes in the water. 

There are a couple groups of people sunbathing, children splashing in the water, playing volleyball. It’s like summer has come early, you almost wish you’d worn your swimsuit. You and your friends decide to kick off your shoes and wade in the water a bit and take some pictures together. Another group of girls a little ways down the beach also taking pictures and laughing approach your group asking if one of you would be willing to take some group pictures on them, and that they would be happy to return the favor. 

As your friend took one of the girls phones to take some nice group pictures, you stand off to the side and can’t help but stare. These girls all have gorgeous hair, long sleek legs, flat tummies with belly rings, and perky full breasts. Not a blemish on their perfectly tanned skin, though you suspected their tans may be less than authentic given the current time of year. Still you couldn’t help comparing yourself, you felt a bit pudgy in your sundress wishing you had ordered something lighter for lunch, and mentally cursing the wind for blowing your dress around you and making you look bigger and more awkward as opposed to windswept and attractive like these girls. You think about the upcoming summer, and your collection of swimsuits at home… true they’re pretty and comfortable but you wish you could wear and feel confident in the kind of swimsuits these girls are wearing. 

The other group of girls finished up their pictures and you tried your best to appear confident and unbothered when they turned the camera on you and your friends. You didn’t want to bring down the mood, so you plastered on a smile and tried to laugh along with your friends for the remainder of the trip. 

After dropping off your friends you head home, anxious to take a shower and get the sand off of your body. Unfortunately you knew Boba would not be home until very late, so it would just be you for a bit. Oh well, that just means watching whatever you want on tv with no complaint. You shower and wash your hair, taking your time to fully feel clean. Stepping out of the shower and ringing out your hair, you feel a lot better now that there wasn’t sad in places it should not be. 

You cross into the bedroom and slip one of your favorite nighties on to relax for the evening, but when you turn around and catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror you stop and stare at your reflection. You frowned at yourself, turning to your side to catch a glimpse of your profile and finding it no better in your opinion. You turn away from yourself and remove the nighty tossing it unceremoniously onto the chair at your vanity table. Instead you dig out an oversized t-shirt and a pair of Boba’s sweatpants. You look back at yourself in the mirror and shrug your shoulders… good enough… before heading back out into the living room to put on some mindless tv and waste time on instagram and tik tok. 

That was a horrible idea. You spent hours down the social media spiral, looking at pictures and videos of seemingly perfect people with perfect lives and perfect bodies that always seemed to know the perfect thing to say. It made you sick to your stomach. Eventually you fall asleep laying on the couch with the tv still playing. By the time Boba gets home you’re lightly snoring and your arm is hanging off the side of the couch. He chuckles at finding you in such a disheveled state, but takes care to carefully lift you up off the couch and carry you to bed. 

In the morning you wake up to the sounds of him moving around in the bedroom, though he is trying very hard to be quiet and not wake you up. He notices you stirring and returns to the bed to sit next to you. He’s fully dressed, ready to head out again. 

“Hey,” he whispers, stroking your hair. You smile sleepily at him, and mumble some kind of greeting. “I’m just about to head out. I’ll be home late again tonight, try to go to bed before you pass out on the couch,” he teases. You scrunch up your nose and nuzzle your cheek into his hand. 

He leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead, “Only a couple more days of these long shifts baby. You’ll have me all to yourself again come this weekend,” 

“Good,” you murmur “I don’t like going to bed by myself,” 

He chuckles again, and gives your three more little kisses before saying goodbye and leaving the bedroom. It’s still pretty early and you went to bed very late last night, so you rolled over and went back to sleep for another hour or two. When you do get up to start your day, you find that your closet full of dresses, skirts, and generally fun cute outfits does not bring you the usual joy of picking out one to wear. The thought of showing off your figure makes you feel anxious and unwell, so instead you opt for a pair of comfortable joggers and another baggy t-shirt.

The day passes by slowly going about your errands and daily chores getting less work done than you would have liked. You feel a little blah, and just can’t seem to shake off the brain fog that’s plaguing you. You eat dinner by yourself, and turn in early for the night once again wearing Boba’s clothes that are far too big for you. He likes it when you wear them anyway. At some point in the night, Boba comes home and happily slides into bed next to you to catch what little sleep he can before getting up for an early start once more. This time he’s already gone when you wake up, but you can tell he’s been around. His clothes are in the laundry basket, and there’s a coffee cup in the sink. 

To your delight, there is another cup of coffee poured sitting in the refrigerator chilling. You happily mix in ice and creamer, thinking about how lucky you are to have a boyfriend that takes that extra step for you. One of his many little ways to let you know he loves you. It lifts your spirits a bit, but not enough to shake you from standing naked in front of your closet glaring at your clothes. They offend your eyes, and make you long for things you shouldn’t. So you settle for another haphazard outfit that hides your figure, and dampens your mood. 

The day passes you by though you are able to be a least a little more productive than yesterday. You start the laundry, and wash the dishes. Call to reschedule your dentist appointment, and even get in a couple hours of actual work for your job. But this looming cloud of distraction and general sadness prevails, and you don’t get to many of the other things on your list for the day. As you get ready for bed, wearing Boba’s clothes for the third night in a row you took comfort in the knowledge that tomorrow when you woke up, Boba would be there and he would not have to go to work. Surely that would make you feel better. 

In the morning you happily roll over and cuddle into Boba’s warm chest. You had made a reservation for the two of you to go to brunch, but that isn’t until 10:30am so that leaves plenty of time to snuggle. Lazy kisses and whispered good mornings shared across the pillows and under the sheets. Eventually though you do both get up and get ready to go out for the day. You choose a pair of jeans and a nice-ish t-shirt that you tuck in, you feel a little better than you have the last few days and take the time to do your hair and makeup. 

Boba turns when he hears you coming towards the living room, and he has to put in real effort not to let his face show his concern when he observes your somewhat drab outfit you’ve chosen. You never give up an opportunity to get dressed up cute, especially when he’s taking you out on a date. 

“Is that my shirt?” he asks, extending a hand out for you to take, you accept his hand but feel your anxiety rising in your throat and burning your cheeks. 

“Yeah… I’m sorry, I can put on one of mine if it bothers you,” you drop your gaze and shift uncomfortably. Boba is unsure of what to make of this, so he proceeds cautiously.

“Hm… how about that blue dress? The navy one you like so much,” he suggests running his thumbs over your knuckles and swinging your arm just a little to get your attention. But you keep your gaze fixed on his shoes, and give your head a little shake.

“I… don’t want to wear that one today,” you say, pulling your hand away. Now he’s really concerned, you were fine when you woke up this morning, what changed. 

“Sweetheart you love that dress, what’s wrong?” he asks 

“It’s nothing I just… I just don’t feel particularly dressy at the moment” you admit, rubbing your arm and still making every effort not to look at him. 

“And why’s that?” he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him “Come on kitten, there are no secrets between us,” 

Your lip quivers a bit, you don’t want to verbalize what’s been bothering you. But his eyes are so tender and concerned, and his grip on your chin is insistent and firm. So you relent. 

“I spent too long on instagram looking at influencers and celebrities, and me and the girls took some pictures for another group of girls at the beach the other day. They were all so beautiful with their flat stomachs, perfect tans, and full breasts. I’m sure they work hard to look that way, and I’m sure they have their own insecurities, but I look at them and I think… why can’t I look like that?”

“I don’t want you to look like them” he says 

“What?” you jerk your head back just a little and look up at him. 

“I don’t want you to look like anyone else in the world, I want you to look like you. Exactly the way you are” he slides his hands under your shirt, pulling it out from where its been tucked into your jeans, settling on your hips. He takes a step closer and dips his head down to kiss each of your cheeks. 

“I want you to wear whatever clothes you like, especially the sweet little dresses I know you love so much,” be begins pressing kisses down your neck, and sliding his hands down over your ass. “I want you to know that you’re my girl. My absolutely gorgeous, perfect girl” 

He’s leading you back into the bedroom, walking you backwards slowly and carefully, whispering praises into the skin of your neck between hot kisses. The backs of your knees hit the edge of bed, and you lower yourself down onto it. 

Your hands rest on his sides smoothing over his soft tummy through his shirt, you think about his body. It doesn’t fit society's view of an ideal man, not overly muscled, spray tanned and polished. In the same way you’re not like the models and celebrities you’d been comparing yourself to. 

He pushes you down by the shoulder, coaxing you to lay down as he runs his big hands up and down your sides, dipping down under your shirt and reaching up to palm your breasts. His rough thumbs brush over the quickly stiffening peaks of your nipples. His lips drag over your jaw and you moan at his ministrations. 

“Babe,” you manage to get out, “we’re gonna miss our reservations,” 

He releases his hold on your nipples, and strips off your shirt. He hikes you up higher on the bed, and captures your lips in an insistent kiss. 

“Don’t care,” he growls, “this is more important,” he licks a stripe from your chin all the way down your neck and sucks a mark between your breasts. His fingers work to rid you of your bra. When it’s been discarded somewhere into the room, he turns his attention back to your nipples and takes one into his mouth and suckles on it, rolling the other between his fingers. Your soft moans and wandering hands encourage him, and he switches to your other nipple. 

After a minute or two he releases your nipple from his mouth, and comes back up to recapture your lips. His hands trail down, fingers dipping into the waistline of your jeans. He breaks the kiss, as he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans pulling them down slowly over your ass. You kick them the rest of the way off and spread your legs a bit so he can settle comfortably between them.  

“Your cute little dresses usually make this a lot faster, princess. But I don’t mind taking my time,” he rasps. Your breath hitches as he slides your panties down, and drops his head down in between your thighs. His breath ghosts over your core, already beginning to get a bit wet in anticipation. His hands rub up and down the outsides of your thighs as he begins peppering gentle kisses over the soft skin of your inner thighs. Climbing higher and higher until he reaches your lower lips. 

Without warning his tongue darts out and splits your lips, licking a broad stripe up from the bottom and stopping at your clit to latch on and begin sucking. His tongue continues prodding in and out as he devours your wet cunt. His hands cup your ass and squeeze, pulling you apart further. Your chest is heaving and your mind feels like it’s narrowing in on the building feeling of your impending orgasm. 

“Boba,” you gasp out “I-- I’m gonna cum… I-” 

He doesn't answer in words, he growls into your aching cunt and moves his tongue faster to get you over the edge. Your orgasm is blinding in its intensity, sending your mind reeling as your choke out strangled cries of pleasure. As you’re coming down from your high, Boba releases your swollen clit from his lips and kisses his way back up to you, dragging his hands up with him. He whispers the sweetest words into your skin.   

“Mmm you’re my girl. My sweet, perfect girl. I’ll spend the rest of my days showing you how perfect you truly are,”

#Star Wars #Boba Fett #Boba Fett x reader #boba fett x female reader #Modern!Boba Fett #Modern!Boba Fett x reader #Fic Request

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 13

A/N: Always and first thank you to my bestie @chloes-yellow-cup for always doing the thing. and to @kimmania who always gives each chapter a thoughtful review. 

13.  

“Oh, my dear it’s so lovely of you to come to brunch. I was starting to feel a little put off you know. All those invitations you so politely refused. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

Stacie smiled and sipped her cool iced tea to give herself a moment. It was true, she had ignored all of Edith’s requests to have lunch. And yes, she had been avoiding the older woman. It was a matter of self-preservation really. Keeping up the appearance of normality around someone as observant as Edith Roussard-Ford was never easy. She had a keen eye and open ear to everything that happened to the biggest families in society.

“Well…I suppose I can be frank with you. Now…that things are…resolved.”

The old woman across from her nodded encouragement and leaned forward eager for any tidbit she could glean from Stacie. It was necessary even she’d rather not talk about life with Weston. When dealing with Edith you had to give some to get some.

“Of course, my dear. Dreadful business…”

“It was hard to get away…often times my only haven was my work. Weston was…” Stacie trailed off and cleared her throat. It wasn’t acting, the rush of anxiety she experienced just thinking about that time robbed her of speech. “Weston Whitman was a very controlling man. Controlling and more often than not…violent.”

It never got any easier admitting the truth of things but she raised her chin defiantly. Edith’s eyes widened slightly but her surprise was more about Stacie admitting it than the confirmation itself. She waited a beat for the other woman to ask what she knew was coming.

“Oh, dreadful. Just dreadful. And still…you never knew? There wasn’t a hint of suspicion about his true character?”

“Of his character, yes. Of his actual coming and goings and affairs…no. I had no knowledge of those terrible things. I shudder to think of him, under my roof, sleeping next to me self-satisfied with the blood of innocent women on his hands. What a joke I must have been to him with my work at the shelter, helping him keep up the façade unknowingly.”

“To think nothing of the scandal about the money.”

Of course, the money was far more important a topic than her public humiliation and shame. Stacie let her gaze drop demurely. Money was everything in this world, who had it, who needed it, and who stole it…

“I’ll admit Edith, I had some concerns about Weston’s business. He seemed edgy and evasive and he asked me to empty my personal safe…spending cash. Some jewelry. It was nothing that would ever pay back his investors.”

“I heard the federal agents seized everything. It’s a wonder you have a roof over your head, my dear.”

Stacie’s smile was brief and coy. “Much like oil and water, money and love simply do not mix. When you’re a Conrad you learn that at quite a young age.”

Edith leaned back to watch her carefully. Weighing all that she had learned and the earnestness in which Stacie had conveyed it. She could see the respect dawn in Edith’s gaze and when the woman leaned forward again it was with eager confidence.

“You may be a Conrad in name but you are Helene’s daughter in more than appearance. Your father barely had a nickel to his name when she ran off with him. Now there’s a scandal for you!”

It was surprising and Edith laughed gleefully when it showed on her face. She’d been raised her whole life on the presumption that her mother hand done what she had been expected to do. Money marries into money.

“Didn’t know that did you? She might have run off with August but she was no fool. Van der Berg family lawyers ensured he couldn’t take a dime of it.” Interesting. Stacie made a soft thoughtful sound and Edith continued unprompted. “You have to hand it to August. He made a name for himself. All that money is his by right…I suppose.”

Stacie’s brows came up and she tipped her head to the side. “You sound doubtful of that Edith.”

“I wouldn’t dream of speaking ill of your father, dear. I know you’re not close but there are some bonds that can’t be broken. Family bonds. You understand. I wouldn’t want you to have different opinions of your father. He’s done well by your mother.”

It was there, below the surface, begging to brought into the open. Stacie could feel it between them, brewing like a great storm. One little flicker of interest and it would come out. And then things would change forever between Stacie and August Conrad. And with that she was sure the tentative and fragile bridge she and her mother were building.

But if she were really like her mother, Helene would understand why she was doing this. At least that is what she hoped if this all ever came to light. Stacie let out a soft sigh and leaned back. She couldn’t out right ask about it, it had to be done delicately. Edith watched her work through the knowledge that there was something going on that she hadn’t been aware of. It was a careful dance baiting the woman to reveal more than what Stacie herself had given.

“Well, whatever my father is or is not doing, it’s nothing I know about. He and Weston shared that in common.”

“Ah yes. Thick as thieves those two…”

There it was. The hook Edith thought she was dropping in the water. Stacie batted her eyes in mild confusion, ignoring the slightly predatory smile on the old woman’s face. Her lip pouted out just enough to give the impression that she wasn’t making the leap entirely. Stacie smiled inwardly as Edith swallowed her own lure.

“Mind you, I’m not saying August is a thief, he’s merely an opportunist you see. He’s very good at knowing who to know. It’s how he made his fortune through the years. Nothing illegal in it exactly. Most would say it’s a shrewd bit of business.”

“But I don’t see how that could help him benefit from Weston’s…activities. Of course, he knows everyone, he’s a politician.”

“Hm indeed, indeed. Of course, he wouldn’t be involved in any such thing. Strike it from your thoughts, my dear.” The woman brushed a hand over her knuckles, and not for the first time during the conversation. Aubrey probably would have called the tell earlier but Stacie was proud of herself for picking it up now. “In any case I am quite sure Senator Grant and Warren Randall would lean very heavily on your father if they felt he was in any way responsible for Weston stealing their money.”

Stacie’s heart beat double time but she rolled her shoulders casually in a shrug. Jackson Grant and Warren Randall were her father’s closest confidants, present at every family function since as far back as she could remember. Uncle Jack had even gifted her the first horse she had ever owned. They were, in a fashion, family.

“I haven’t seen Uncle Jack in a few years. Not since his son Kodie and I went to Senior Prom together.”

It hadn’t been her choice of date, and the argument that had raged in the Conrad home had lasted three intolerable days, she and her mother butting heads on everything from the color of her dress to the way she wore her hair. Kodie wasn’t a bad guy and truthfully, he hadn’t wanted to go the dance with her any more than she had with them. But it had been arranged years before the event was even due to take place. In the end they both dutifully took their places next to each other for pictures in the foyer before escaping to the limo to get happily drunk on the well-stocked wet bar.

“I had almost forgotten about the blush of young love. I was worried about that boy for a while. You heard they caught him awhile back in a house full of street whores and enough cocaine to give that Tony Montana character a seizure.”

Her brows came up at that. It seemed unlike the boy she had known but people changed and it took more strength to keep from breaking under the family pressure than perhaps Kodie had. She let her curiosity at the topic glimmer to the surface.

“A house full of…he was the perfect gentleman at prom. I can hardly imagine that scene.”

“Who can say what’s gotten into that young man. If Jackson hadn’t gotten him a job at the Port of Los Angeles, he’d probably be in an out of rehab facilities I imagine.”

She could tell by the way Edith waved a hand dismissively that Kodie wasn’t worth the energy to think on. Stacie lifted a shoulder casually giving it the appropriate gesture of disinterest that was expected. There wasn’t much more to gain from digging further. Eventually Edith would wonder why she was so eager to gossip about the families. It was better to go on to something everyone knew.

“Speaking of rehab, did you know Tristaan has a new line coming out now that he’s clean and sober? He plans to call it Clarity. I saw a sneak peek of some of the pieces and they are just gorgeous. You’d just adore the mother of pearl pin collection…”

The conversation shifted easily and she spent another hour enjoying the afternoon with Edith. She kept the tone of their topics light but her mind was turning over the information she’d gleaned. Stacie was willing to bet even money that Uncle Jack and Warren Randall were in on whatever Weston was into. Whatever business they had together scared Weston, enough to demand she empty her safe, liquidate assets…it was big. Big enough to ignore Weston’s predilection to torturing and murdering women. Stacie knew there was a bigger play on the table, she could feel it even if she couldn’t see it yet. They needed more information and she knew just which card to play. She waved one last time to Edith as she slid into the backseat of the SUV.

“Home?”

She gave Happy a distracted nod that the blonde smiled at before turning to put the car in gear. “Who do we know in drugs?”

Happy’s bright eyes cut to her quickly in the rearview mirror with curiosity. She was weighing the request to see if Stacie was joking or not. After a second she gave a delicate grunt and focused on the road.

“Depends on how much of what you’re looking for.”

“Enough cocaine to make Tony Montana have a seizure.”

This time the eyes panned up in a slow disbelieving arc. Stacie smiled widely and gestured to the street to remind the other woman to keep her focus where it needed to be.

“We might know a guy…”

“Good. Aubrey’s going to want to talk to him.”

“I’ll make it happen, boss.”

#pp au #queen of hearts #staubrey #stacie conrad

[inawickedlittletown]

Baked With Love (Destiel fic) - 1/5

Summary: Dean never met Lisa's neighbor, but he knew one thing: whoever it was, they could bake. After breaking up with Lisa, the one thing Dean misses is her neighbor's pie. After finally meeting him, Cas' pie is not the only thing Dean likes.

On Ao3 

------

The weird thing about the end of a relationship was all the little things that suddenly just came to an end. Things like Sunday brunch and dinner dates at restaurants that Dean would have never stepped foot in before. The best things to end were the arguments when Lisa would get mad every single week about Dean’s standing bar night with Sam. Or how often Lisa had expected Dean to get her flowers. In some ways, it was strange to re-calibrate to having free time again, but in the best way. 

Dean found himself at The Roadhouse on a Wednesday night — something that would have never occurred while he was dating Lisa. Wednesday was not his and Sam’s usual night, but his brother met him there anyway. 

“How are you holding up?” Sam asked after they were already a few beers in. 

“What do you mean?” 

“The break up, dude,” Sam said. “It’s been what? Two weeks?” 

The thing that really cemented for him that he’d done the right thing breaking up with Lisa was that he didn’t even miss her. Dean had expected to, but the loss of the relationship didn’t really hurt. It was nothing like his last serious relationship with Cassie and maybe that was why Sam was so concerned. Cassie had broken him. It had been a long time after Cassie before Dean felt like he could do more than a one night stand. It was why Lisa had felt different, Dean had wanted more from her and yet somehow things just hadn’t worked. If he really had to think about it, he couldn’t even say that he missed the sex and considering how bendy Lisa was, that was saying something. 

“I’m alright, Sammy,” Dean said. “I don’t think I actually let myself get attached, if I’m honest.” 

Sam nodded. 

“But, I do miss one thing,” Dean said. He took a gulp of his beer. 

Sam made a face. “Ew, Dean!”

“What? No….I mean, she did yoga. But, no, I miss the pie.” 

“Lisa baked?” Sam asked, his eyebrow raised.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “No. Definitely not. But she had this neighbor. I never met them, but every Friday they brought Lisa some sort of baked good. Sam, it was the best pie that I have ever tasted. Better than mom’s even. And now, no more pie.”

“Wow,” Sam said. 

The crust had been flaky and sweet. The apples had had a crunch to them and there had been so much care put to the spices and the flavor. Dean had never believed in a higher power and yet eating that pie had felt like a religious experience. 

—

A month after the break up, Dean ran into Lisa. He really should have known better than to stop at the cafe near the yoga studio, but Dean had been desperate for caffeine and it was a better option than Starbucks. While he was there, he couldn’t help but notice the pies on display and so he indulged in a slice of cherry pie. It left Dean on his own at a round table waiting for the coffee to kick in and savoring his pie. It wasn’t an amazing pie, but it was still pie. He was so single-focused on the pie that he almost didn’t see her at first, but then he looked up and spotted her. 

She wore yoga leggings and a sports bra. Her hair was tied back into a neat ponytail and she was laughing with a gaggle of her yoga friends. Dean had met a few of them and he wasn’t ever going to be able to tell them apart. 

As she turned to get into the line, her eyes swept right over Dean and then came back to him. Dean lifted his hand in an awkward wave. He didn’t expect Lisa to do more than similarly acknowledge him, but instead she headed his way. 

“Dean,” she said. 

“Hi,” Dean said back. “How, um, how have you been?”

Lisa actually smiled at him. “I’m alright. We had fun there for a while. And I just wanted to say, no hard feelings.” 

“Good. Yeah. Uh, you too.” 

Lisa pointed at the last few bites of Dean’s pie. “My neighbor came by last night and left me a loaf of banana bread. I had to bring it into yoga class because you weren’t around to eat it all.” 

Dean chuckled. “Your neighbor should open up their own bakery. I would be their number one customer.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Lisa said. 

“And, uh, you know, since no hard feelings and all, if your neighbor bakes a pie any time soon I am definitely available to take it off your hands. If that isn’t, you know, weird.” 

Lisa actually threw her head back and laughed. “Do you want my neighbor’s number? Get you right to the source?” 

He should have felt weird about it, especially because in the entire time that Dean had dated Lisa, he’d never actually seen Lisa’s neighbor. He’d always pictured the neighbor as a nice older woman who lived alone and didn’t have anyone to share her baking with. 

“Look, Cas is a sweetheart and it won’t be weird or anything.” 

Maybe, it would be less weird than using Lisa as some sort of go between. No matter how amicable their break up had been, Dean figured they probably shouldn’t see much of each other. 

“Alright, then,” Dean said.

Lisa nodded. She grabbed her phone out and a moment later Dean had a text with Cas’ phone number.

—

It was almost a month later when Dean saw Lisa again. This time, it was because she was having car trouble and didn’t know where else to go but to the only mechanic that Lisa knew: Dean. 

Dean co-owned Singer Auto. It had once belonged to his uncle, Bobby Singer. Bobby wasn’t even really his uncle by blood, but he’d been a family friend for so long that everyone considered Bobby family. When Bobby decided to retire a few years earlier, he’d offered Dean the shop. It was Dean that insisted on buying it from him. Bobby had eventually been worn down to selling half the business to Dean. 

Dean ran the day to day, but Bobby stopped in every once in a while — when he got bored mostly — and did a bit here and there. Business was going well. 

Lisa’s car had been in good shape when Dean was dating her, but when she called him up, it was because her car wasn’t starting. Dean talked her through tightening up the battery terminals but the car still didn’t start. 

“You might need a new battery,” Dean said. 

Before Dean could offer to head to her place to jump the battery and get the car over to the shop, Lisa told her her neighbor had just come out and offered to do it. 

“And I’ll just drive it straight over to you.” 

Lisa arrived not long after and with her came a tupperware container of chocolate chip cookies. 

“From my neighbor,” Lisa said. “I asked and Cas said you never called.” 

It wasn’t that Dean had forgotten as much as that he’d felt awkward calling someone he didn’t really know just to ask them if he could buy some pie from them. He was sort of rethinking Cas being an older grandma type, though, what with the whole giving Lisa’s car a jump thing. Maybe Cas was younger than Dean expected, or a woman that knew how to bake and their way around a car. 

“Call Cas, Dean,” Lisa said. “It would be rude not to. Cas is expecting a call.” 

Replacing her battery didn’t take long and Lisa reminded him to call her neighbor again before she left. The taste of Cas’ cookies after they were all gone later that day made him decide that he would call Lisa’s neighbor. 

—

He sent a text instead of calling. He did it early, right between breakfast and leaving for work. A kind of rip the band-aid off type of thing. 

Hi. This is Dean.

And then because that felt like not enough at all. He sent a second: 

Lisa gave me your number because of how much I gush about your pie. 

Hope this isn’t weird. 

And when that didn’t seem like enough either.

Feel free to ignore me if this is too strange to you, but I am very willing to pay you to bake me a pie. 

He read them all over a couple of times before sending one last text. 

Thank you. And promise, I’m just very enthusiastic about pie. 

After that, he just dropped his phone on the couch next to him and groaned. He wanted to take back all the texts. Lisa’s neighbor was going to think he was crazy.

By the time Dean set off to work, he had no response which was probably for the better. 

Work was busy that day. It was a constant. They had a bunch of appointments lined up. Some easy jobs like doing an oil change, but others were more complicated — the type of thing that would take days to finish. Then, there were the people that just stopped by on the chance that Dean or one of his mechanics were free. So, Dean didn’t get to glance at his phone once the whole morning. And because Sam showed up during his lunch, he didn’t look at it then either. 

It wasn’t until he got home, after a long shower to get rid of all the grime and the smell of motor oil that clung to him, that Dean even glanced at his phone. 

Hello, Dean. 

Lisa mentioned I might get a call from you. Your texts were a humorous way to start my morning. It is not weird to be complimented on something I love to do. Baking is a passion of mine. I would love to bake you a pie. Lisa mentioned my apple double crust was your favorite. 

Payment is not necessary. Friday is the earliest I will have time, if that works for you. I’ll have it ready for you to pick up by six. 

-Cas

Cas sounded formal. It was hard to infer age or gender, but Dean supposed none of that mattered when it came to it, not when this Cas person could bake a pie that was rivaled by no other. 

I would feel weird not paying you for all that hard work. Friday is great. Thanks again. 

Dean was going to make sure he gave Cas something for the pie. The whole thing already felt a little strange, but for Dean it would feel even stranger to take the pie for free. 

When he and Sam met up that night, Dean didn’t bring up the whole weirdness with Lisa’s neighbor, but when Sam asked if Dean wanted to do something on Friday night he turned him down. 

“What, you have a date or something?” Sam asked. 

Dean denied it, but his brother didn’t seem to actually believe him. 

—

On Friday, it was Cas that texted Dean first, with an address to the house on the right of Lisa’s, as well as confirmation for pick up any time after six. Dean read the text over his lunch and he texted an affirmative before he got back to work. 

The shop closed at five. Dean went home and got showered and cleaned up. And because it felt like he’d come off as too eager to show up at six on the dot, he busied himself cleaning his kitchen and getting his laundry sorted so he could put it in the wash later. After that, he went through the pile of mail that he hadn’t looked at all week. It was almost seven when he texted Cas to let him know he was on his way. 

Cas’ house looked almost identical to Lisa’s and all the other houses on that street. A neat lawn in the front, a Victorian style with a large porch, a detached garage in front of which sat an electric blue Jeep. Not the type of car that should have belonged to the middle aged woman that Dean had been expecting. He parked his car on the street, feeling just a little strange that he wasn’t pulling into Lisa’s driveway. A glance over there told Dean that Lisa wasn’t home. 

As he walked up, the first thing that Dean noticed was that Cas’ mailbox was shaped like a bee. It was really well made and adorable to boot. 

He gave the doorbell a ring and didn’t wait long for someone to come to the door. As the door pulled open, Dean was startled by a car screeching by. He turned away, looking out as a Honda Civic narrowly missed Dean’s Impala as it drove off. For a moment, Dean had almost stopped breathing. 

“I don’t know how that kid managed to get his license,” a voice from behind him said. A deep, masculine voice. 

Dean turned, slowly. Cas had stepped out and Dean’s breath caught. 

Cas was a man that stood almost at Dean’s height. His dark hair was tousled, his eyes were the bluest eyes that Dean had ever seen, and over a lean and muscular frame, he wore an apron that in cursive letters said “Save The Bees”. 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said and his chapped lips broke into a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I’m actually a little behind, so your pie just made it into the oven. But, come on in.”

“Uh,” Dean couldn’t find words. How had Lisa not told him that her neighbor was a guy. A very attractive guy. 

-

Part Two

#destiel #destiel fic #deancas fic #supernatural fic #deancas #supernatural #fanfic #my fic #this fic is all fluff

[glacecakes]

Underneath and Unheard

It's earth angst time babyyyyyyy

I was in a bit of a rut the past few weeks. Some messed up stuff happened and what was my coping mechanism is now a part of my trauma which is f u n but the only way out is through so I'm gonna plow through some fics and focus on what makes me happy instead of what is expected of me, regardless of the people who wanted to hurt me. And that includes this.

This was partially written on the Varian Hivemind server. If you wanna join just ask me here, we love to write mini varian fics and debate the show and just be all around silly! All are welcome.

With how mundane their routine had become, it was only fitting they were due for change. 

Everyday had become the same: Quirin would wake up with the sun, go (attempt to) wake Varian up, make breakfast, wake Varian for real, and leave to tend the fields. Varian, after shaking sleep out of his eyes, would scarf down the now-cold breakfast and hunker down in his lab till they reunited for lunch and again at dinner. Repeat ad nauseum. The last big change to this years-old routine had been the addition of Ruddiger, but all that meant was another plate at the table. 

That was how the day started, same as any other. Breakfast had been slightly soggy pancakes coupled with an apple that Ruddiger stole, before the two retreated to the relative quiet of the basement lab. 

Quiet, peaceful… lonely.

“Alright buddy!” Varian chimed, lifting a beaker into the light so he could see its contents better. “So the last few batches have been a dud. No biggie! We just gotta get the recipe for Flynnolium down and we’ll be all set to start building the actual tankers.” Dad wouldn’t let him start any large scale projects without a comprehensive plan. Otherwise he could… How did dad put it? “Blow up the town”? Pfft! Yea right! His plans were foolproof! ...Most of the time. 

Ruddiger stretched, having dozed off, and then shook out his body. He jumped down from his perch to trail Varian’s legs, letting out a happy chirp and getting a buck-toothed grin in return.

“You ready to help?” At the responding chitter, the alchemist slid his goggles on. “Great! Let’s get started.” 

The creature hopped up onto the table, passing Varian a few chemicals as the boy asked. They worked in tandem like a well-oiled machine, so used to the routine that it took no effort at all to keep the momentum going. The chemical in the beaker began to glow a neon green, bubbling and hissing slightly as some salt was added. 

“And now…” Varian hummed, setting the mixture on his hot plate. “Simmer for 10 minutes…” He stuck his tongue out in concentration. 430 degrees, no more, no less. Too cold and the mixture would solidify before the reaction was complete, too hot and… well… let’s just say too hot was a very bad idea. 

Ruddiger trilled, hopping down and popping out of the lab’s window to get some fresh air. The boy paid him no heed, it was common for him to sneak out, steal some fruit, and come back ready to help again. Quite a glutton he was, Varian thought to himself with a snicker. Oh well, as long as he was back in 10 minutes it wouldn’t be a big deal. 

Ruddiger’s ringed tail swung with each step, happily wandering down the familiar trail and into the fields towards Quirin. The knight was wary of him at first, and to an extent, still was. It’s not every day a wild creature decides to adopt your son, after all. But Ruddiger was more like a cat than an actual raccoon, content to laze in sunbeams and steal snacks and sit in laps. So despite Quirin’s reservations, he didn’t really have any argument of substance against keeping the critter, so long as he was clean and without signs of illness. 

No greater love than a dad and the pet he didn’t want, as they say. 

Sweat dripped from Quirin’s brow, salting the earth he worked on. His muscles strained and fingers blistered around his tools, yet still he didn’t mind. It was no different than his previous life, used to abusing his muscles to their fullest extent. He wiped the excess sweat and turned at the familiar noise at his feet. 

Ruddiger stared expectantly. He would climb up onto the man’s shoulders, but he knew from experience that doing it while he was working ended in Quirin physically dragging him back to Varian. Instead, he weaved between large legs, chirruping all the way.

“Hello Ruddiger,” Quirin greeted, smirking and standing to his full height, his back screaming in protest. He really ought to steal Varian for a few days, he’d help the chores get done a lot faster… but Varian hated farm work, and the dad would much rather have a few extra aches than deal with a moody teenager whining all day long. 

“I take it you want a treat?” Ruddiger sat in place, eyes wide and almost puppy-like in his begging stance. Quirin laughed, grabbing some produce from his nearby cart. 

“Fresh off the trees,” the man said, handing Ruddiger a fresh apple, bright colors shining. The raccoon screeched in thanks, purring as his teeth sunk into juicy apple flesh. 

Quirin placed his hands on his hips, watching the creature with a fond smile. “Why don’t you bring one back for Varian, hm?” He offered, grabbing another apple and passing it off. “He could use a snack before lunch.” 

They did this every day, and every day without fail, Varian would refuse the apple, and Ruddiger would eat it instead. But still, the creature finished his current treat, taking Quirin’s gift and bounding off back towards their home. 

Quirin shook his head as he left, smiling to himself. Why couldn’t Varian have adopted a dog like every other kid his age? But his son was always a strange one, so perhaps it was only fitting that his companion be the same. 

Ruddiger bounded back down the familiar beaten path. In no time, he was climbing back through the window, Varian’s snack in hand. Said boy hadn’t moved, staring at the beaker with an intense stare. If he looked away for even a second, a number of terrible things could happen! Knowing his luck, at least something was bound to blow up today, and he refused to let it be this.

Hey! Why wasn’t Varian looking at him! He was back! Hello! Human! Ruddiger let out an annoyed chirp and Varian started. 

“Oh! Hey buddy!” The raccoon’s tail swished in irritation, but he couldn’t stay mad at Varian for long. His friend was just so dedicated to his craft, after all! Little raccoon hands skittered across metal, down the pipe running out the window and towards Varian. 

“The solution is almost done, just in time,” Varian smiled, scritching Ruddiger in his favorite place behind the ears, earning a happy chirp. “Oh hey, thanks!” He snatched the apple. “I was actually kinda hungry. Didn’t eat enough breakfast I guess.” Buck teeth stabbed in with a crunch, allowing juice to drip down his leather gloves.

What? No! That’s not how it went! Ruddiger would push the apple into Varian’s face, but he’d insist Ruddiger could have it, and the chubby critter would get a second brunch! This was not fair! 

He let out a shrill complaint, claws scratching into the table.

“Hey, you already had one! I know dad sneaks you a million.” Varian stuck out his tongue. “In fact,” he took another bite, pointing at his raccoon. “You could stand to lose a few pounds.” 

Oh, he didn’t just go there! Ruddiger wiggled his butt, glare focused solely on Varian.

The boy took notice, face falling into a glare of his own. “Hey, what are you doing. Ruddiger. Ruddiger don’t you dare.”

He was gonna do it.

“Ruddiger!”

He was gonna do it!

“Ruddiger, no!” 

He leaped. 

Varian shrieked, flailing as he fell, face now full of angry raccoon. As he fell, he tried to grab onto something, anything, to slow his fall. Alas, all he reached was the hot plate, fingers slipping around the dial and turning it to maximum heat. 

Neither noticed, too embroiled in their tug of war over half an apple. 

“Ruddiger!” Varian scolded. His gloves were great for alchemy, but not so much for keeping a grip on a shiny apple. Not like Ruddiger’s tiny claws, which easily punctured the fruit and snatched it. 

“Not fair!” Varian huffed, giving up and glaring at his friend, who was clearly quite pleased with himself. “That was meant for me, you know!” He took on a mischievous grin. “What if I took your apple after dinner, then? That’s only fair!” 

Ruddiger puffed up, chattering angrily at how no, very much not fair, before he saw it.

The vial was bubbling violently, shaking on the hot plate, making an awful racket as it did so. His chattering picked up speed, more panicked, but Varian simply crossed his arms, smirking down. “Oh, I will, and I will enjoy your apple just as much as you enjoyed mine.” Ruddiger shook his head, chattering more insistently, but Varian simply rolled his eyes. 

The beaker’s clattering only grew louder as it rattled faster and faster, and finally Varian noticed, turning around in confusion before his eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. 

The beaker cracked.

“CRAP!” He yelled, scrambling upright, turning off the hot plate, but it was too late. The beaker shrieked, color shifting to a neon cyan, which made Ruddiger screech in panic, scrambling up the windowsill just in time for-

BOOM

It took a good minute for the dust to settle. Debris and house foundation screamed as it rained, till only pebbles clattered in the wreckage. 

From his vantage point on the window, Ruddiger cried out once, twice, to no response. He trilled louder. Maybe Varian’s ears were still ringing, just like his? 

When he could finally see again, it was a disaster. Glass confetti littered the ground, beakers full of other chemicals bubbling and leaking onto the floor. The hot plate lay atop the wreckage, shattered beyond belief. Massive stones that held up their house had caved in, forming a miniature mountain decorated with support beams. A piece of wood splintered and the entire chamber shook. 

Ruddiger whimpered, curling his tail around him. Where was Varian? The entire place seemed desolate, devoid of life. 

Carefully, so as not to hurt his paws, he scampered down the (now bent) pipe and into the mound. The raccoon spun around in a circle, checking all directions for his beloved friend. But it seemed there was nothing, an eerie silence settling in along with the dust. 

No! He wouldn’t give up! He needed to find Varian! Varian hadn’t escaped, Varian needs him! 

With a grim determination, Ruddiger stuck his claws into the collapsed rocks, pushing away what little he could in an attempt to dig. It was at this time his size came in handy; he couldn’t push any rocks big enough to destabilize the pile. 

He huffed, and could already imagine what Varian would say in this situation. The longer I am without oxygen, stuck under the rocks, the less likely I am to survive. A horrifying thought that made Ruddiger dig faster.

Finally, finally, when he’d reached the point where the only rocks left to move were too big, he found him. His face barely peaked out of the mound, crushed by the debris. Ruddiger squealed, trying to push a larger boulder, and the whole mess shook violently. He dropped the rock as if he was burned. 

“Ruddiger...?” Varian moaned, eyes fluttering open. His pupils were mismatched. The alchemist coughed, and tried to move. 

Big mistake. 

As he shifted, the rocks screamed in protest, tumbling around him. As they fell, the splintered wooden foundation they’d held up fell too. Ruddiger chattered in warning, but-

The beam slid right into Varian’s abdomen. He let out a choked scream, eyes flying open as blood splattered onto the raccoon’s face. Both animal and human cries echoed in the ruins, Varian trembling in pure agony. 

Ruddiger screamed, sang, anything to keep Varian awake and coherent. But the pain was a hazy drug, diluting his thoughts and pulling the boy down, down down. 

It couldn’t possibly get any worse. 

The chamber shook again. Harder. A boulder nearly crushed Ruddiger but he escaped at the last second. 

“Ru....” Varian moaned, eyes dull and cloudy, not at all like the normal sunshine blue. “Dad...” was all he could say before a torrent of blood spilled from his lips, pooling onto the floor and obscuring Varian’s vision. If the boy couldn’t get any paler, his eyes honed in on the red, and he slumped. 

What was Ruddiger to do? He couldn’t leave Varian, Varian needed him! No... Varian needed dad. Needed help. But if he left... what would happen...? There was no other option. With a whine, his tail between his legs, Ruddiger scampered back towards the fields. 

He scampered back to where Quirin was working, finding the man none the wiser. Had he not heard the explosion? Not seen the dust and ruined house? A quick glance back and anyone could see something was wrong! The place was half caved in!

He screeched at the top of his little raccoon lungs, which startled Quirin. His basket of fruit jostled about, dropping a few pieces. 

“Good lord,” Quirin huffed, turning around. “Yes, Ruddiger? What is it?”

He chattered rapidly, trying to mimic Varian using the beaker, then their fight, and finally making an explosion with his hands. 

Quirin hummed. “Alright. Here you go.” And he dropped an apple for him.

What? No! That wasn’t it! Well, sort of. It all started due to an apple, so at least now he knew to just go get another next time. But that required getting up, and after his brunch the sun always shined right thru the window, and it was perfect for sunbathing...

No! Focus! Ruddiger slapped his face a few times before resuming his noises. 

Quirin raised an unimpressed brow. “Shouldn’t you be with Varian?” He asked. “I don’t have time for this today.” 

Ruddiger hissed at that. Even if it wasn’t an emergency, how rude! His claws scratched at the earth in frustration. He leaped at Quirin and dug his claws into his fur vest, and he yelled out in shock. For a brief moment the giant stumbled, nearly tripping over the apple he’d dropped. 

“Ruddiger!” Quirin yelled. “That’s enough!”

No it wasn’t!

The critter stood on two legs, tail puffed up, angry as never before. How could this man not see that something was amiss? 

“Ruddiger, I’m going to take you back to-“ Quirin turned, facing him. “Varian...” his face paled, eyes widening. Huh? A quick glance down revealed his sudden change; the bright red blood splattered across him. 

Varian’s blood. 

“Did you hurt yourself? Is that why you’re so upset?” Quirin said, leaning down with an apologetic smile. “You just wanted some attention, huh? Is Varian too busy to clean you up, poor thing.”

Well, he was certainly busy, so it was a start. Quirin licked his thumb, moving to wipe it off, when Ruddiger danced out of his way. 

“Let me help you.” Quirin said, mood a lot more chipper now that he thought he was helping. 

Ruddiger frowned, scampering a bit towards the house in the hopes of being followed. He glanced back. 

“I can’t go home, Ruddiger, I have work.”

Ruddiger stared back. He chirped, more like a meow, with big, pleading eyes. 

Quirin frowned. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the rodent’s trick. “No. I’m not giving in.”

Ruddiger cocked his head, swishing his tail. 

“Ruddiger no.”

Another chirp. 

Quirin sighed. Defeat was a bitter taste, heavy in his tongue. He’d always been weak for cute things, after all. When Varian had been born, he’d just stood there, holding the little thing, marveling at him. Not unlike how Varian will squeal when Ruddiger twitches in his sleep. 

He shook out of his musing. “Alright. Fine. I’m coming.” Maybe he and Varian could have lunch together, it was nearly noon, after all. It’d be a nice change of pace. 

His good mood stuttered to a stop at the sight before him.

“No…” he breathed, breaking into a sprint with the raccoon not far behind him. Their house was a disaster, the dirt road leading up to it caked in dust and wooden splinters that crunched underfoot. 

He’d built that house, that home, with his wife for their child, and now it was in pieces. 

What had happened?

He ran up to the debris, eyes scouring the wreckage to try and figure out where to even begin. A sharp cry from the raccoon pulled him along towards where the basement is. Or rather, was.  The only way in was a small gap in what was once the window, which Ruddiger quickly shimmied into. Dropping to his knees Quirin dug with his hands, pulling at shards of glass and broken wood until he could lower himself in.

“Varian!” He cried with his feet barely just touching the ground. “Varian, where are you?” What on earth had happened? Varian was usually so careful! He’d begged Varian to be, even! “Varian!”

All he heard was silence. Ruddiger’s ears fell in guilt, in fear. He clawed at the ground to catch Quirin’s attention before bounding further into the basement, towards the debris pile. Soft footsteps confirmed Quirin following… until the sharp take in breath. 

Ruddiger glanced up to confirm Varian’s body still hung limply, the same place it had been when he left. Still dripping of blood, unconscious, impaled. 

“No, no no no…!” Quirin rushed over, taking his son’s face in his shaking hands. He brushed limp hair from his face and pressed their foreheads together. “My boy…?” There, ever so slightly, a faint breath fanned across his face. Still alive. The father’s shoulders slumped in pure relief. 

But still there was the issue… how to save him. The piece of wood in his stomach acted like a plug, keeping most of the blood inside, as opposed to the floor and Ruddiger. Thankfully though, it wasn’t deep, and had entered his back, so it was unlikely any vital organs had been punctured. And that beam was supported by a large pile of boulders, foundations upturned in the explosion and coated in dust. He bit his lip, deep in thought.

“Dad…?”

Quirin started, turning to see Varian’s blue eyes fluttering open. A haze coated them, clarity having slipped away in the abyss of pain. He blinked a few times. “Wh...where…”

“Shh,” Quirin whispered, pressing their faces closer together. “Dad’s here. You’re gonna be ok.”

“What…? I… Ruddi…?” Varian slurred. Ruddiger chirped, rubbing up against Varian’s limp legs in support. 

“Yes, he’s here,” He’d have to make this quick; if it took more than one pull Varian would likely feel the pain, might go into shock… if he wasn’t already. But without him bracing against the wood, the wood would act as a lever and set off the stones… they’d have only one chance, and would have to move quickly. 

“Ruddiger. Go outside. We’ll join you shortly.” 

What? No! Ruddiger whined. He hated having to leave Varian the first time, he sure as heck wasn’t going to do it again! Varian needed him! He needed help! 

“Ruddiger.” Quirin’s voice held no room for argument. “Go.”

With his tail between his legs, he whined, but did as told, keeping the humans in eyesight from outside. A small crowd had gathered outside their home, having finally noticed the dust and debris. But they didn’t matter. Only Varian mattered.

With bated breath, he watched as Quirin spoke quietly to Varian, unable to tell what they were saying. Varian looked calm, too calm, compared to the worry lines marring Quirin’s forehead. The father took a deep breath, and then yanked on Varian’s fragile body. Ruddiger screeched in time with Varian, the boy’s eyes flying open and mouth letting out a guttural wail of pain. 

The villagers winced as the house rumbled, shaking as rocks moved. The ground underneath them trembled. Small rocks clattered and another beaker fell and smashed. 

Quirin grunted, lifting Varian up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He’s getting too big for this, or maybe Quirin’s too old? Neither answer particularly soothed him. Time was a cruel mistress, after all. But if this could be the last time he held his boy, he would hold him forever. 

The whole chamber shook, and Varian let out a whine in pain and fear, snapping Quirin into action. He raced over to the opening, quickly raising his precious son up into the waiting arms of the villagers. “Hurry!” He urged. “Get him to the doctor.”

“But what about you?” A villager cried. “Get out of there!” 

“I’ll be fine!” A particularly rough shaking knocked a boulder towards him. “Go!”

The villager who took Varian ran off, and Quirin raised his arms in an attempt to climb back up. But he wasn’t a racoon, able to clamber up trees with ease. A few men grabbed his arms to try and pull him up, but the man was a brick wall, heavier than everyone else. His feet scrambled at the crumbling wall, a large rock falling from the unstable ceiling and slashing across his eye. He winched, blood dripping into the socket and obscuring his vision, but still he persisted.

The men pulled with all their might, able to yank Quirin out just as the entire basement collapsed. The stones that had been piled spread out like water, flattening where he had once stood. The father collapsed weakly into the grass, gasping for breath. Ruddiger bounded over and licked his face, mopping up the blood.

Quirin weakly smiled. “Good boy.” He scratched behind the animal’s ears.

Ruddiger purred.

-

 Sun filtered through the cracked window, dust hanging in the air. A mote landed on Ruddiger’s nose, and he sneezed, forcing him to wake up. Bleary eyes glanced around his surroundings. Where was he again…?

A snicker caused his ears to twitch. He turned, glaring at the source. 

Varian’s hand covered his mouth, one eye closed as he laughed. His head, torso, and… basically everything was wrapped in bandages. He looked like a mummy with all of them. His bed lay lightly coated in dust; there was no time to clean up the house with them all recovering. Thankfully, most of the house remained unscathed, it looked much worse on the outside than the inside. A few plates and delicates fell and broke, but otherwise it was as if a mild earthquake had rattled them, and that was it. 

Well, the lab was another story. But that was for another day. 

A soft knock pulled them apart, Quirin walking in with a glass of hot coco in his hands. “Hey kiddo,” he said. “Slept in, I see.”

“As always,” Varian grinned cheekily. Same as always, Quirin thought with an eyeroll. 

“How are you feeling?” Quirin sat on the edge of the bed, Ruddiger moving so he didn’t get squished. He curled up on Varian’s lap and the boy’s deft fingers ran through soft fur. 

“Better, I guess.” He hummed. “Still sore.” 

Well yeah, Ruddiger thought with a huff. Getting skewered oughta make you sore. Quirin seemed the same, smiling sympathetically. He placed the cup on their bedside, nearly missing due to his bandaged eye. 

Both of them were supposed to be resting, though the father needed much less of it. He ran his hands through Varian’s hair, the soothing motion causing his eyes to droop. 

“Get some sleep,” He said. “Both of you. You deserve it.”

Ruddiger purred, tail swishing in pride. 

Damn right he does. 

…

And another apple. 

#tangled #tangled the series #varian #tts #tts varian

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

@cayeeast​ 🥰 You are never too late, my inbox is always open. :) I hope Damirae?! I have to preface this:  I apologize in advance. I don’t really do fics like these—this is the first. But I want to grow, be a better writer, and try new things. I have never written anything like this before, so honestly, THANK YOU.

Prompts

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

"More sauvignon blanc, Miss?"

A bottle of wine was withdrawn from the metal ice bucket, lifted by their waiter's practiced hands. Beads of ice cold perspiration were congealing, beginning to travel downward as Raven swallowed another gulp of air. Though it was slight, her grasp began to shake around her cutlery. She had done her very best not to look at the bottle during the duration of the meal.

Now it was practically in her face, sweating.

Her breath hitched in her throat, as she watched the condensation continuing a steady drip.

It was quite possibly mocking her.

The moment seemed to stretch on before veering into uncomfortable, until both gentlemen glanced down at her untouched white.

"Malbec, sir?"

"Please."

The waiter gently replaced the white before disturbing the red. He swept around the table to refill another glass for Damian, who murmured a polite thanks.

Damian fingered the long, thin stemmed wine glass and turned it towards himself in circles. Several rotations were completed to air out the liquor. He guided the blackened magenta beverage to his lips and sipped thoughtfully.

"Raven."

Though Raven didn't immediately glance up, she was focusing on her meal rather intently. She shuffled slices of swordfish steak and capers to make them chase her chanterelle mushrooms and root vegetables around the triangular shaped plate in different patterns.

Of course, the half-demon was sure to select the appropriately suited silverware as she did so. Her efforts were starting to slow, however, as the lemon cream sauce became nearly nauseating when paired with seafood vapors.

Did fish always smell quite so pungent?

"Is there something wrong with the food?" She refocused on the handsome face of her dining companion, flickering in and out of the candelabra light.

"No, it's wonderful," Raven insisted. "Really, wonderful—great... presentation." His emerald eyes parsed the perfectly placed parsley and the latticework of sauce that was now a soupy mess saturating a plate of parsnips and fish.

"Oh, well it must have been." Damian exhaled sharply out of the corner of his mouth. "But, I'll always say nothing is too beautiful to eat..." He drawled.

"I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought..." she mumbled, flushing a little more than delicately.

"I hope our waiter doesn't insinuate to the kitchen that the meal fell short of perfection tonight. If the chef doesn't already know..." He scanned the perimeter of the dining room, as if expecting to be ambushed by the staff or a number of dining guests.

"I'm willing to bet if it wasn't so busy, he'd be out here himself, demanding to know what's wrong with the food." He cut his steak as he reminisced. "Remember what happened the time you asked for salt...?"

"It could just be me." Subtly, she slid her plate nearer to the center of the table. "Even though, I'll never be fully assured that fish is the best idea on a Monday... Are you sure it's fresh?"

"Is it fresh?"

A part of her was teasing, but Damian physically recoiled an inch. To insinuate that he would frequent an establishment that would serve his fiancée day old fish? His face was drawn with his jaw so set, it was as though he had been slapped—or someone in the vicinity had insulted his mother.

"I called ahead. That swordfish was caught earlier today. They're in season, sustainably sourced, and delivered directly to the restaurant—"

And with a menu that read: price available upon request, where other establishments printed dollar amounts, they all but prepared it table-side.

"But... you didn't follow them to the docks?" She asked in a deadpan. "You didn't call the fishmonger either? And I'm guessing, you didn't stand in the kitchen and observe the process?" Raven folded her arms. "Well, I don't understand how someone who takes shortcuts manages to run a billion-dollar corporation."

Raven wasn't at all new to this and she wasn't sure she would ever fully get used to it.

But sarcasm always helped.

"I was under the impression it was your favorite... You enjoyed it so much when we were here months ago." Damian's eyes darkened and then shone, like a man accepting a challenge. "Have your tastes changed already?"

"It's just... It's a little strong—the smell." Raven cleared her throat with her cheeks draining of their remaining color. "It's much stronger than I remember."

"Tell me... Is it work?" He surveyed the tail-coated waiter standing at the ready and lowered his voice accordingly. "Is it...something else?"

This was meant to speak of their nightly activities, the ones that involved aliases, capes, and crime.

Well, the other ones that involved aliases, capes, and crime—no safe words.

Inwardly, Raven groaned, because once again she was reminded of how much harder this could become.

By Azar's blood.

"It's not...that either. My stomach really is too unsettled for fish today." She took the napkin from her lap to wipe her mouth. "Normally it wouldn't be, but maybe... I'm a little unsettled, too."

"Tch... Well, I knew there had to be something." A half frown stole across Damian's full lips. "It's me, Raven... And this is us. We don't hide things from each other. Not anymore."

"I know." She heard her voice wavering. "I know that..."

"If there's anything at all, you'll tell me." He reached across the table to brush her hand. "If you're unhappy, tell me. I'll do whatever I can..." he whispered, lifting his eyebrows to punctuate his next words. "And I mean... anything."

Now Raven couldn't contain a crude snort. "I know, Damian."

"We can stop by a jewelry store - that engagement ring looks awfully lonely by itself." She sucked her teeth in a manner that was less than refined.

"Shoe store then... You can never have too many pairs of those very similar—" Haughtily, Raven blew air up through the side of her mouth to ruffle through her hair. "—but different, black pairs of boots..."

"We can take a trip..." His voice grew lower still. "...have a threesome." But, that one might have been a question rather than a suggestion. And as he pondered his words, his fork went sailing straight through the remainder of his steak without the aid of the knife. "Well...maybe not that last one."

"You're incredible...suggesting a ménage à trois at a French restaurant? Coquin." The half demon shook her napkin at him. "I'd laugh if this fish wasn't making my eyes water."

"Well, I'd do anything for you..." he replied evenly. "If it would make you happy, I'd even consider thinking about that last." And Raven shot her lavender eyes straight up towards the domed ceiling. They both knew the truth. "Maybe someday in the far, far future..."

As if he would ever share her.

That was exactly right, wasn't it? As if he would ever share her, or their lives with anyone?

Why would he?

They lived on the top floor of an elegant building in Gotham with a vintage lift whose golden grills led straight out into their penthouse apartment. But, it could be argued that the building wouldn't have been complete without their elderly doorman, Tom.

On the daily, he hailed cabs for Raven. Semi-weekly, he handed Damian hangers of dry-cleaning that refilled their twin walk-in closets of the numerous suits, trousers, and shirts and monochromatic dresses, blouses, and skirts.

Each morning, he bade Raven good morning as she went off to work and each night he held the door as he bade Damian good evening, a spectator in the lover's lockstep.

Weekly, Damian and Raven maintained long-standing lunch dates clustered in his corner office at Wayne Technologies. Monthly, the couple attended Sunday brunch with the extended clan of brothers, sisters, partners, kids, and pets all assembled together at the Manor.

Yes, there were others in their lives.

Even though Damian would argue they existed more or less on the fringes of a tapestry, while he kept her framed at the center.

Still, he seemed to love everything exactly as it was and he was in no hurry to change it. Especially when every night ended with them tangled together in their king-sized bed.

Two.

Plus one dog.

Titus was the only exception. Unless things changed in the far, far future.

"Do you mind if we cut dinner short?" Raven suddenly suggested. It must have been abrupt because Damian seemed caught off guard. "I think I want to go home early, curl up next to you, and finish those final pages of my book."

"Alright." He signaled for the check. "I'd like that... We'll get you home and I want your final thoughts on the ending. They better be scathing." The waiter reappeared instantly and it was like he'd never left. And even though his eyes remained lowered to the ground, she knew he had to be appraising her.

Raven mumbled something about the ladies room. She considered splashing her face with water and giving herself a pep talk. But to what end? The evening had already gone array. Something unexpected had cropped up.

Unexpected.

How was she supposed to tell him this?

Damian was a planner and for the most part, so was she. They didn't do unexpected.

"Actually, I'm going to grab my coat."

She excused herself and placed her napkin next to the untouched glass of wine. Her feet were pinched tighter in the heels with every step towards the exit. Raven followed the partition around the perimeter of the dining room, arriving at the stairs to the entrance hall.

As she waited in the queue for her coat, her eyes wandered past the sweeping architecture and up the wrap around staircase, where Damian was probably talking to the head chef and the owner. Just as he predicted.

She handed over her ticket, her heart leaping towards her chest as the end of the evening dawned on her. And as Raven grabbed the coat, she wanted to whirl around in her uncomfortable heels and march back up those stairs. Uncaring of her rudeness, she'd steal Damian away, tug him towards the hallway with the row of chandeliers and kiss him.

And tell him absolutely everything.

She would tell him why La Chandelle wasn't at all appealing tonight. She would tell him why she'd suggested going out to dinner in the first place. She would tell him why things had changed so suddenly.

And why everything could.

Instead, she slunk away. Out of the restaurant. Onward. The best she could do now was hope: hope they could get home, hope she could get out of these heels as soon as she could. And then, Raven would figure out how to tell him tomorrow.

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

"Raven?"

Damian was racing down the stone front steps of the restaurant to meet her at the curb.

"There you are." He was hurriedly slipping a pea coat over his suit jacket and he sounded nearly breathless. "Where did you go?"

"The coat check. Did you get the car?" Her voice sounded small and defeated. "I really, really want to get home..."

"I can see that," He deadpanned. "But that's not what I meant and we both know that." His brown-black brows began to knit together. "You were somewhere else for most of the evening. I know when you slip into your mind fortress and this is different from that. So where did you go, Raven?"

She swallowed and held out her hand for him to take. They walked a few steps in silence, turning towards a side street. The sound of laughter, music, and chatter faded away and for the first time all evening, she felt like she could finally think. Raven exhaled, deciding this was far enough.

"Damian, when I asked about dinner," she began. "I wasn't expecting this... I figured we were going somewhere with a little less wine and a little less fish—less wine cooked into fish..."

He blinked, processing slowly with his hands in his pockets, his head pointed down towards the cobblestone street, coated in a mixture of oil and water. It had to have rained recently. "Well, it's not too late, we can go somewhere else—nothing French, I promise."

He licked his lips before he continued, probably sensing her apprehension. "We can go to that noodle place and ask for two pots of oolong tea instead of the usual one... Or we can just grab tea?" He offered. "But if you're too tired, we can always make it at home. I'll make yours with the biggest, widest mug and saucer we have."

"So you're just...not going to give up on tonight, are you?" Raven murmured, her lavender hair moving as she shook her head from side to side, as if wondering who this man was.

"No, I don't think I will." A smirk started up on his face. "That's the thing about having a fiancée. You can't get rid of me that easily." He tapped her cheek good-naturedly and ghosted over her forehead with his lips. "I'm always going to be here."

"Didn't we...just get engaged?"

"Is that what this is about...?" Her husband-to-be searched every single inch and orifice on her face. "We can slow things down or postpone the wedding for a few months. The last thing I want you is for you to be stressed about this."

"What I mean is..." She ran a hand across her damp forehead. "Gods, I had this whole speech planned—how I was going to tell you..." Raven's unease fell away when she felt warmth radiating in waves, like he was lending her strength.

"Anything," he whispered. "You can tell me anything." He placed his arms on her shoulders.

Raven took a deep breath, her eyes locked on his, and—

"I'm pregnant."

The words froze suspended before them in midair. Damian continued to stare at her, but without blinking. Then, Raven nodded. And then Damian started to nod too.

She couldn't believe she said it aloud; she couldn't believe that it even happened. "I know it should be impossible... And not just that it's too soon."

"You're..." Damian breathed. "You're pregnant."

And he was taking her hands with his own to squeeze them tight. He started to smile—not just smile, he was beaming in a way Raven had only seen once before: when she said yes. This was more than elation, he was in absolute awe of her. He lifted her from the rain-soaked street in a generous hug to sweep her right off her feet.

Damian was holding her, lifting her. Supporting her from below. He was staring up, as his breath streamed sweet steam swirling against the seam of her lips. From somewhere inside blooming outward, was a warmth that no amount of healing or surge of power or strike of hellfire could ever compare.

And he too was giving himself over to this sensation.

With fingers gliding through his hair, eyes welling emotion, she nodded again. And she wrapped her arms around his neck, and drew closer to connect. Deeply, gently, then sweetly, they kissed into the night.

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

Damian feathered his lips over hers, placing her gingerly onto her feet. And he was grinning madly at her. Then, his grin slid down a little. And then a lot.

His mouth opened, like he was about to say something. He started to talk and stopped. Started and stopped.

"The wine—"

"The fish—"

He ran a hand down his face while he replayed the events of tonight. "I'm such a goddamned idiot. I'm so sorry, Raven."

"It was a nice meal. I had a great time. So, I couldn't eat anything or drink anything—so what?" Raven chuckled. Whatever cruel sense of irony there was in the world, it was a wonderful night. "You know, it's actually hilarious in hindsight, and now we have a funny story to tell our friends... A-and our—our—"

She was enveloped by the warmest, safest embrace Damian could manage as he was trembling. He rocked her and held her tight, inhaling deeper and exhaling harder until they both relaxed. "I am sorry. I should have sensed something more was going on."

"Well, neither of us thought this was even possible. Up until three days ago, I didn't know it was," Raven blurted. And it felt so good to blurt around him again. "We live together. I could have said it at breakfast. Or at the movies on Sunday... When we were in the shower together, last night. I'm the idiot. "

"The shower..." he repeated. "So that's why you were a little touchy about your body." She groaned loudly—this was not happening. "Raven, you've got absolutely nothing to worry about," Damian insisted. "And besides, you're not even showing yet."

"That's what you think," she grumbled.

His lips curled up. "Habibti." Raven raised an eyebrow. She knew as well as he did, that he had better choose that next sentence very carefully. "Habibti... you've always had an aura glowing about you, only now it's just going to grow brighter."

"Pfft," Raven muttered. "Right. As I grow bigger and rounder."

"You know what, yes," he scoffed. "You will get bigger and I don't care. For that matter, neither should you." Gingerly tilted her chin towards him. The way he was gazing at her, with unconditional love, understanding. "You'll be just as beautiful—equally exquisite."

Who could ever doubt Damian?

"And you'll be even more sensitive in all the right places." His low voice was filled with the darkest promises of sin. "I can hardly wait."

"You're dangerous," Raven murmured, knowing she was turning pink.

"Dangerous?" His nose traced the curve of her neck, as the skin shivered.

"As if you didn't know," she said flatly. "It's probably how you managed to conceive with a half-demon in the first place."

She felt him chuckle into her skin, then it morphed into something like a groan. "So, I botched dinner... And sex in the shower... I should have drawn you a nice, hot soak in the tub... Gone down on you for an hour at least...gone a few blocks past the park to grab some slices of 99 cent pizza..."

"How did you know about the pizza?" Raven's eyes widened on her flushed face. "Did Tom tell you?" Whenever Raven said she was going to 'feed the pigeons in the park', what it really meant was she was going to cut through the park to grab a slice of the cheapest pizza she could get her hands on.

So much for the code.

"You actually thought that was a secret?" And when Damian rolled his eyes, he looked less worried and more like his usual surly self. "Please. I've seen the napkins and the pathetic excuses for paper plates... Really, I should have known something was up, there were a few more than usual."

Through the ovens of pizza and pregnancy, he knew and he loved her.

And Raven threw herself forward and held him tightly to her. "You're sort of perfect, you know that?" she mumbled into the hard chest, smelling the usual amber and spiced apricot. She lifted her head and he brushed an errant strand of lavender from her eyes. "I don't want to cut tonight short. Actually... I kind of want frozen yogurt."

"Fro-yo it is."

And as they walked, he bent his head towards her. He touched her face and murmured, "I...can't believe you're carrying my child..."

Damian began to kiss her so avidly, so impatiently, they had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk. She was moaning and pulling pomegranate and malbec from his lips until they were both breathless.

Damian gave her a final peck and they walked back to the restaurant. It was all such a daze, Raven barely remembered him asking the valet to bring their car around. She made a motion towards the door and she noticed he'd already held the passenger side ajar for her.

"I can still do that myself."

"Hmm..." He stared off into the distance with a vague smile, as though contemplating their future. "You're going to fight me at every turn aren't you?"

"No," Raven said quickly. His eyes flickered faintly with amusement. "Not frozen yogurt—I want ice cream. Real, honest-to-goodness, ice cream made with cream, and all the toppings. Whipped cream, hot fudge..."

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

"Birdie's Diner?"

"Ignore the name, it's a good restaurant. I used to come here all the time, even before we were—" Raven was trying to pull his fingers aside to see his flushed face lit by the bright neon sign. "All diners serve eggs, alright? I'm sure that's all it means."

"And that's the only thing that drew you here?"

He hung his head in defeat before holding the door. "After you."

There were low lamps hanging over the booths and classic rock stringing out of a jukebox in the corner. Raven hadn't been to a diner like this one in well, ever. The hostess handed over two laminated menus and told them to seat themselves. So Raven sat in a red vinyl booth in the back corner, and very discreetly, slipped off her heels.

Instantly, it felt much homier than La Chandelle.

"Raven, we're getting you the best OB in Gotham—that's non-negotiable," Damian was saying. One coffee down and he picked up exactly where he'd left off in the car, driving and planning particulars. "Or Kori can recommend us hers - they're probably accustomed to working with unique cases."

Demonic blood or not, Raven sincerely doubted there was any OB-GYN in the city that wouldn't pass off a patient or two on a colleague, to quite literally, bag a Wayne baby.

The caffeine had fully set in because he was drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the table while he spoke. "It'll cost us another Sunday morning, because you know Kori will want to do an extended brunch when we tell her and Dick the news."

And the second they told her, Raven would promptly conjure up an extra-strength, soundproof barrier around her cellphone to contain the joyous shrieks. And she'd probably have to buy a new phone.

"But it'll be worth it... You know what, it's not too late, I can probably call Dick right now." His left hand darted towards his pocket.

"No. No, you won't." She placed her hand over his. "We'll do it in the morning. Tonight, you're going to sit here with me and eat ice cream, okay?" Then, her ears perked up in a way that Titus would have been proud of. Hearing the sound of a whipped cream dispenser, behind the diner counter, she was almost gleeful. Her ice cream was in transit and was arriving on a round, plastic serving tray.

"Here ya go, sweethearts." A waffle-printed glass dish and two spoons were deposited onto the smooth, scrubbed surface between them. "Enjoy."

"Thank you." She smiled back at the kindly woman in the light blue waitress uniform, with a name tag that read Shirley.

Cookies and cream on a bed of bananas, crushed oreos. Whipped cream and hot fudge. Even one of those radioactive-red cherries on top. And it was absolutely wonderful. She passed Damian one of the long, thin-handled spoons, which they both knew was ill-suited for ice cream. According to Alfred, it was technically for iced tea, but appropriate cutlery was far from her mind. She tapped her spoon to his.

Cheers.

Raven dug in and moaned. In a word it was: heavenly, and far better than she could remember of ice cream. Six more bites and she could just imagine the tip of her spoon about to hit the bottom of her half. That cherry was hers.

"Hey Damian," she nudged his spoon with her own. "Now you're not eating."

"I was thinking..."

"You can think later... You've done more than enough." They would deal with the rest tomorrow. For now, she chose to think of this as a little celebration of the news—just between them.

"Come on, don't let me eat this alone... Sympathy weight starts tonight." She swallowed another spoonful while he glowered at her. And Raven knew full well he'd already had an entire steak earlier. "Don't worry about abs, your aura will just glow brighter."

"Tch—I wonder what genius said that..."

Raven snorted, but didn't argue. In fact, she was absolutely fine with riding Damian's abs—and hard body—straight into the next two trimesters.

"But I have to agree about one thing." Damian drew up his thumb, using it to wipe a smudge of whipped cream from her upper lip. "There is something about real cream..." He held her gaze as he licked his finger slowly.

The blood in Raven's core was warming, the temperature forming liquid fuel for an ache of a different kind. Officially, they had been together for over a year. And this man was now her fiancée. How did he always manage to turn her into some sort of sticky mess?

It had to be unnatural because it was utterly unfair.

Not so subtly, Raven tilted her head at the space next to her. And Damian joined her on the other side of the booth. The diner and the ice cream were so much better with his thigh lined against hers.

"Raven, can I...?" He hesitated, waiting for her approval. He held his hand up to her stomach.

"Of course you can."

Softly, he stroked the skin over her shirt, where the tiny swell would eventually grow. "Raven," he whispered at last, and she opened her eyes. "I want us to take that trip."

"A trip?" Her eyes were so wide only a sliver of purple remained. "A moment ago, you were talking about baby-proofing the apartment." He seemed unfazed. "Nannies? Au pairs? Daycare? What happened to buying every pregnancy and parenting guide our devices will permit? We can't take a trip, wouldn't that be an irresponsible start?"

"We can make time for something important like this," he insisted. "It could be good for you. And for us."

"Why in the name of Azar and all her disciples would this be a good idea?"

"Hear me out... A mother and father-to-be take a trip before the baby actually comes—a baby-moon. That's what they're called," Damian murmured. "I propose we take one, before our lives, and bodies change." He spooned a dollop of whipped cream and slid it between his lips. "What do you think?

"Oh..."

"We don't have to..." He said quickly and dropped the spoon in the dish.

"I think...it could be an interesting idea."

"If you think it's not for us," Damian reached for her and stroked her hair calmly. "I understand."

"No—Damian—we should do this." She searched his eyes. "I want to do this with you."

"Yes." Damian kissed the top of her head. "Just you and me, Raven. We can go anywhere you want."

#damirae #demonbirds #raven x damian #raven #teen titans #me #raven and damian #damian and raven #raven roth #damian wayne #fanfiction #writing #titans #dc #dcau #dc comics #fanfic #pregnancy fic #otptober #This was only supposed to be like 2k words and I don't know what happened... #in the oven #I had way too much fun with this oddly enough #Oh i hope it's not the most dreadful thing in the world... #pregnancy #You were warned... #Time for thai food... #Sorry this took so long!!! 😖❤️❤️❤️