#<-with that warning out of the way the divorce couch probably appears way too often in this tbh. u m.

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss the lxl divorce couch (it appeared in 1 image)

[movedtopassione-parfait]

La Squadra personal character hcs:

(WARNINGS: mentions of parental neglect, divorce, death, child abandonment)

Risotto Nero:

Risotto is a 7'0 (totally not my size kink showing) olive tan Sicilian guy, abandoned by his parents after he first opened his eyes due to his strange appearance and cared for by his grandmother. (cough cough credit to tenthgrove for the amazing story) Grew up close to his cousin since he had very few people in his life, that's why he was crushed by his death. After getting his revenge he felt like he couldn't return home, and turned to Passione instead. I feel like he's got a thick accent and deep sultry voice (much like the one from the fan made italian dub on youtube!!) His eyelashes are definately long and white, and I feel like he has many brown sun spots like I do! He often bumps his head on door frames, tells a dark joke but nobody knows it's a joke so they just think he's incredibly fucked up, and when he gets into a car you can see it shift from his weight. Has no preference for tea or coffee, he will drink what's available to him. His hands? Big and rough, they're scarred all over and he wears silver rings. Has a few piercings like snake bites and an eyebrow ring. Dick piercings. His favorite food is pasta alla norma.

Prosciutto:

Prosciutto is from Florence, he grew up with his parents there for a bit before moving to Palermo with his mom after they divorced. His favorite memory of growing up is staring down at baby Pesci in his crib. He's 30 years old, 5'9, and has an overbite + tooth gap. His voice is somewhat deep and has an accent, but not as thick as Risotto's. Has a terrible habit of blowing cigar smoke into people's faces, spitting while yelling, and taking way too long styling his hair in that weird triple bun style. Is more of a coffee drinker than tea, he enjoys a good black coffee or an espresso. His hands are very pretty, like slim yet thick fingers and soft to the touch because he moisturizes them with the finest lotions and creams. Sometimes he likes to wear a corset in the privacy of his room, he thinks they're extremely beautiful and he has a collection of really detailed ones. His favorite food is bistecca alla fiorentina.

Pesci:

Is Prosciutto's half brother related by their mother. Pesci is from Palermo, and grew up with no father figure since he left and was no where to be found after he was born, Prosciutto made sure to be a big brother figure to him because of that, their relationship is unbreakable since they only had each other from the start. He's 22 years old, 6'0 and has a blotchy birth mark on his cheek. His voice is neutral, neither high nor deep, but he does have an accent slightly stronger than his brother. Has a habit of chewing on the inside of his cheek when nervous, tapping his feet on the ground, and let's people talk over him even though he hates it (my boy is socially anxious). Prefers tea over coffee, coffee upsets his stomach. His hands are large and slightly calloused on the palms, but very warm and pleasant to feel. Wears dark green lipstick because Prosciutto said he needed something "striking" about his look. His favorite food is caponata.

Ghiaccio:

Ghiaccio grew up as a troubled teen in Naples, often getting into fights at school which caused his grades to fall unfortunately. His parents were neglectful, constantly screaming at him until they eventually kicked him out when he was 19. He tried his best to survive on the streets for years having no where else to turn, barely living in some run down dingy apartment. Risotto found him in an alleyway when he was 25. He's decently tall, standing at 5'10. He has a habit of falling alseep in random places such as the couch or backseat of the car, yelling and ranting about things he barely finds himself caring about, and using up all of the hot water in the shower. Prefers coffee over tea, he likes the caffeine boost which is why he has a slight addiction to red bull energy drinks (if you look in his trash can you'll see cans piled up.) His voice is actually pretty high compared to his teammates, which is why some people (Illuso and Formaggio) call him "Screacher." Hands are medium sized, his skin is slightly rough on the knuckles and finger tips, and feel chilly to the touch. Has a stash of identical glasses in his rooms incase they break on a mission. His favorite food is frutti di mare.

Melone:

Melone is from Florence as well. His parents were also extremely neglectful, but he never picked up on it while growing up. Some of his odd natures like being clingy & touchy, come from lack of attention as a child, he just wants love and a family deep down. He's 5'7 and his eye covered by hair has foggy vision. Has a bad habit of not knocking on people's door/making his presence known before entering people's rooms, working late at night, shouting "Di Molto!" at inappropriate times. Loves tea way more than coffee because of some of the weird health benefits they have. His voice is light and a bit feminine (much like Enmu from Kimetsu No Yaiba). Another one with very pretty hands, slim fingers with well cared for nails, also soft and supple skin. Enjoys cross-dressing very much, not just in the privacy of his own room but anywhere, he'll even dress feminine to lure in targets at clubs and casinos. His favorite food is zeppole.

Illuso:

Illuso grew up in Padua, right near Venezia. His mother was not in the picture so it was just him and his father, until one day when he returned home his father never came back. He already knew his father was wrapped up into organized crime, it was only a matter of time this happened. Inside he blames himself, thought there was nothing he could do to prevent what happened. He covers his grief up with a cocky and egotistical facade to protect his own feelings, but really he just wants someone to give him affection. He's one of the tallest members of the group, being 6'3. He prefers tea over coffee, because he doesn't like the bitterness of it. Has a bad habit of passing through ANYBODY'S mirrors including the bathroom ones, acting like he's superior, and leaving lights on in rooms accidentally. His voice is quite smooth and pleasing on the ears but not actually that deep. His hands are average sized, thick fingers but smooth skin since he also used lotion. Likes to paint his nails, not just black but any color he feels like. Hot pink? Sure why not, fuck it. He likes the sparkly colors too. His favorite food is calamari.

Formaggio:

Formaggio grew up in Padua just like Illuso, with his father in the house. His mother on the other hand, was always out clubbing or partying. Unlike the others, his father was actually a pretty decent influence on him, teaching him the important things in life were the people around you. Because of his father's lessons, he cares for his team like brothers and is always trying to lighten the air by cracking a joke. He's 5'11 and has more freckles and sunspots than the rest since he used to be outside constantly as a child and teen. Has a bad habit of leaning one of his arms on everything next to him (including people), talking with his mouth full, and leaving beer cans everywhere. Doesn't have a preference for coffee or tea since he barely drinks either unless it's coffee in the morning sometimes. His voice is deep, lazy and slow, though its a bit rough when he laughs you could still probably fall asleep listening to him talk. Rough hands, calloused on the palms a bit, as well as a few burn scars on them. Secretly likes to watch soap operas and telenovelas, he'll tell you it's "lame and unmanly" but you'll still catch him crying on the couch eating a pint of ice cream because he was watching the series finale of Rosalinda. His favorite food is rigatoni specifically with red sauce.

no sorlato today guys 😔 but I will be writing theirs in the future, I hope you guys enjoyed this since it's my longest writing I've done yet!! Illuso and Formaggio have the same hometown because they were childhood buddies change my mind.

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 7)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 7: rabbit hole

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. omg THE LAST CHAPTER!!!! i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated. thanks for reading <3

warnings: drinking, cursing, hate comments

word count: 1.6k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

series masterlist   main masterlist   chapter 6

Love, easy it comes and easy it goes. Y/N and Haz’ calamitous love had no tracks ahead of it. The only thing they could do was jump off the train before it crashed and burned. Y/N took that step and fell on Tom’s doorstep. When Haz saw her leave, he understood that hurt couldn’t save a dying soul, so he jumped too, causing their marriage to fall off a hill.

They left the hobbit’s room with a sea of change in their aura. Both had bloodshot eyes from all the rivers they swam through. “I will go settle the tab”, Haz said without meeting her eyes. Y/N walked towards her driver, Arnold, who was standing near the main entrance, eager to tell her about the situation outside.

“There is a herd of paparazzi out there, ma’am”, he said.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment.

“Shall we go?” Haz walked over to them.

“Yeah”, her voice was small and dry.

Arnold opened the door and stayed ahead to make way for them in between the storm of people. They were all screaming something over one another, making it hard to understand. Haz and Y/N had their heads down, trying to hide the stained cheeks from the blinding lights. Haz clutched Y/N’s hand protectively, out of habit.

They made their way inside the car, parked not so far away from the pub.

“You can stay with me tonight, you’re leaving for New York tomorrow morning anyway”, Y/N said looking outside the window.

“It's fine Y/N, I can get a hotel room”

“No, I insist”, her eyes focused on the lamp heads passing them by.

“Okay, I’ll take the couch”

“You can sleep on the bed, with me”

Haz found Y/N’s hand in the dark backseat and squeezed it affectionately.

That night was the last time they slept together in the same bed. When Y/N woke up the next morning, he was already gone. He left a note on the refrigerator that read, ‘thank you for everything’. A bittersweet smile took over her face.

Y/N needed some time to herself, but she also needed to inform people about her decision. She craft an email to her manager, agent and her lawyer. All of them were sent the exact same email.

Harrison and I have decided to end our marriage. I would like to file for divorce as soon as possible, and the process should be civil. I will be unavailable for a few days, so do what you have to with the news.

Y/N

She also sent her parents that email but as a text on the family group chat.

It’s short and to the point, let’s hope they don’t call me with a million questions.

When it came to Tom, she noticed that he had sent her an image a few seconds ago. It was a screenshot of a TMZ article. The headline was, ‘Y/N left her movie premiere early to meet her husband’, it wasn’t jarring but the photo underneath the headline was. Haz was holding Y/N’s hand as tightly he physically could, both of their bodies looked tired and Y/N’s makeup was all messed up. She hadn’t noticed any of that in the moment, last night.

Tom sent her another text.

Tom: Are you ok?

Y/N: not really, I’m filing for divorce

Tom: oh, do you want me to come over?

Y/N: I think I want some time to myself right now

Y/N: I’ll probably watch Gilmore girls the whole weekend

Tom: ok, I’m here if you need anything

Tom: love you

Y/N: you too

---

On Monday, the news broke. The whole world now knew that their marriage was over. The news outlets tried their best to be creative with headlines.

‘Their kingdom has come and gone: Harrison and Y/N file for divorce’

‘Harrison and Y/N, Hollywood’s perfect couple not so perfect anymore’

These were some of the most impressive ones according to Y/N’s management team but they decided to keep it to themselves. No one had heard from Y/N since Saturday. Even though she had told them that she would be unavailable, they still sent emails, warning her to stay off social media sites, especially twitter, the creator of hate wagons.

Twitter was not kind to her at all. Their divorce was trending in the entertainment section. Many people thought that it was their right to comment on this situation. They had a lot to say, mostly about Y/N.

Y/N would often find herself diving into the rabbit hole of her trending tag. She would read almost everything they had to say about her, the good and the bad, but the bad overwhelmed the good.

‘She was only in it to get famous’

‘She ugly if I was Harrison then I would drop that ass too’

‘She is so fake’

‘Harrison is better off without her’

‘She was def cheating on him’

‘Why would someone even love Y/N’

She didn’t notice, but this was getting to her. She would constantly stare at her reflection, picking her appearance apart because someone on the internet called her ugly. Y/N would rethink everything she ever said in front of the media wondering whether she sounded fake or not. She would wake in the middle of the night, pacing like a ghost, thinking she didn’t deserve Tom at all and that he would realise soon enough.

All would be lost.

Even though she thought no one noticed that she was slowly losing her mind, Tom did. He would look at her touching her face, getting lost in deep thoughts. He could feel her tossing and turning in the bed, every night. He would look through her while she’s looking through her phone. Her leg would never stop fidgeting while at rest. He noticed everything.

He took it upon himself to save her from the demons. It was late evening, Tom picked Y/N up from the set. The whole ride home, Y/N was on her phone, mindlessly scrolling through her twitter, reading every inch and every corner. No words could escape her.

When they reached home Y/N informed Tom that she was going to take a shower. Tom was in the kitchen getting the food ready, when he saw Y/N’s phone unattended on the kitchen island. He was tempted to go through with his plan.

He picked up her phone and unlocked it, he knew her password. He went on deleting every social media app from her phone and also changed his contact DP on her phone. Earlier it was an embarrassing childhood photo, he changed it to a scanned Polaroid photo of them together.

Y/N came out with a towel tied up her head. She grabbed two plates from the cabinet and set them on the island.

“What are you making?” she asks him.

“Rice paper rolls”

“So we’re having Vietnamese today, interesting”, she grabbed her phone to check her Instagram.

Where the fuck are all my apps?

“I think my phone has some defect, the Instagram and twitter apps got deleted”, Y/N says vigorously swiping through her phone.

“That’s not a defect I did that”, Tom served the dinner.

“You did what? You have no right to go through my phone and delete apps without my permission, Tom.”

“It’s for your own good, all of that shit was getting to your head”, he said calmly.

“No it wasn’t” she poorly defended herself.

“Yes it was, you were letting some random divs tell you what you are worth. That’s fucked up, babe”

She lets out a loud grunt, filled with frustration.

They both ate in silence, only the crunch of vegetables audible.

After Tom was done with his dinner, he got up, placed his dish in the sink, picked up his coat from the sofa and walked towards the door. Y/N’s eyes never stopped following his figure.

“I think I should go back to my apartment”, before Y/N could reply, Tom was out of the door.

They didn’t talk for a day but Y/N realised how peaceful she felt without having other people’s opinions being fed to her constantly. She felt less insecure about her body, her personality and especially Tom.

He loves me so much that he was ready to invade my privacy to help me.

She decides to call Tom, noticing the unfamiliar photo on his contact. The phone rung, he picked it up on the second ring.

“You little shit changed your photo, huh” her smile was audible.

“I did and I’m sorry”

“No, I’m sorry. You were right, I do feel better with all the noise gone, but you know what would make me feel much better, you, here with me”

---

Tom came over almost instantly, it was like he was already halfway to her apartment when she called. They were on the couch, watching a movie on Y/N’s laptop. Y/N had her head on Tom’s lap and he was playing with her hair.

Holding her breath, Y/N slowly said, “You didn’t need to save me, you know”

“I know”, he replies nonchalantly.

“But the real question is, would you run away with me?”

“Of course, where to darling?”

“Somewhere no one can find us and it’s only the two of us”, she scrunches her face.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed, at the pub?”

“Yeah”, she replied, fondly remembering that moment.

“You said we should go to Ireland together and I said don’t make empty promises”

“Well, do you want to run away to Ireland with me?”

“Yes”, he bent downwards and kissed her softly.

THE END

@mysticapples17 @storybookholland @flqwsome  @hollandstanevans

[animebabe301]

Rekindling the Fire

Warning(s): NSFW, smut

Pairing(s): Kakashi x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,923 words

A/N: This is for @allthingskakashi cause I put it in her reqs and now I’m the one who ended up writing it haha! :)) ENJOY!

Summary: With Kakashi as hokage and you as an academy teacher, each passing day gets harder and harder until one day, a surprise approaches and you and Kakashi get a vacation together.

You didn’t know how hard it was to have Kakashi as hokage and you as a teacher at the academy. That was where you both had met a few years ago. He was teaching team 7 while you were in charge of your own team. You had heard how cold of an instructor he was-never passing any team he was assigned, so you avoided him at all costs to stay on his good side--or just simply stay away from his bad side. It wasn’t until your team and Kakashi’s team had to complete a mission and work together that you both grew somewhat closer as friends.

Naruto had been the one to point out the fact that everytime you and Kakashi were together, Kakashi was the one who shied away. It was one night that you and Kakashi had stood watch while your students were sleeping, and you finally spoke to him about personal likes and dislikes and befriended him. As it turned out, you both had more in common than you’d thought, and although you could only see one of his eyes, you knew his emotions in that moment from just that one eye. That was how you both fell in love.

As time moved on, you both dated and your bond grew stronger and stronger. You both trained together, lived together, taught together. Everyone knew you both were the unstoppable power couple, in battle and romance. You both decided that marriage was good before the war and tied the knot through a simple but modest wedding-the way both of you wanted. All was well after the war, and Kakashi had been appointed as sixth hokage. Kakashi didn’t think he was fit to be hokage, but you and Iruka insisted that it would suit him well. That was... until recently. You’d been busy as an academy teacher and as a mother to your five-year old twins while Kakashi was spending many nights out of the week doing hokage duties. The twins were the sweetest children anyone could ever ask for. They had Kakashi’s silver hair, meanwhile they had your big (Y/E/C) eyes. They were born premature as you had problems during your pregnancy, but they were the healthiest two eight-month-old babies could ever be. If they didn’t pop out any time sooner, you could’ve sworn your stomach was going to pop.

But... there were nights where you felt like you couldn’t do it anymore. It was hard for you, but you knew it was hard for Kakashi as well. There were even nights where he wouldn’t make it home and would sleep on the couch in his office. It made you sad, but you knew you could never talk him out of taking a day off from his hokage duties. He worked too hard for his own good and he truly didn’t know what else he could do to make everyone happy. The days just seemed to drag on longer and longer, but you knew that you had to keep going or else you were going to be a wreck.

Unfortunately, you broke down. You didn’t feel right, and you weren’t happy at all. You’d just put the kids to sleep and you sat on your couch, staring at the empty wall behind the TV. It had been only four years since Kakashi had been appointed as hokage, but it felt like it’d been decades. You missed him by your side every night, his smell, his touch, everything. It made you yearn for him even more. You couldn’t do anything about it-you just had to deal with it. Sure, there were nights where you could please yourself if you had time alone after the kids slept. But it was nothing like the nights you and Kakashi would share in bed.

After sitting on the couch for what felt like hours, you decided to shower and get some sleep before the next day came. As you stood up, you heard your front door open. There he was, no longer the young man you fell in love with, but a hardworking man who needed to shave and groom himself just a bit more to look presentable, but you didn’t mind-he’s too busy taking care of everyone else but himself. Surprised that he was home, you rushed up to hug him, asking him if he had eaten already, if he wanted a massage, or if he wanted to sleep. Chuckling behind his mask, he looked at you, smiled, and explained that he had eaten already and just wanted to take a warm bath before going to sleep. Without hesitation, you started walking away to start a warm hot bath for him until your thoughts were interrupted.

“(Y/N)?” “Yes?” you said while turning around. Before you knew it, Kakashi was already standing in front of you, staring into your eyes. Trying to avoid his gaze, you looked down. He made you look up, taking your chin into his hand. You didn’t want him to see you like this, you wanted to be the perfect wife for him-no complaints, no tears, no worries. “Were you crying?” he asked while stroking your cheek. With the silent air between the both of you, he already knew the answer. “Why were you crying? Is it because of me? Did I do something wrong?” Concerned, he kept pestering you while you turned on your determined path to start the warm bath for your husband. Grabbing you roughly, he stopped you at the door of the bathroom. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” “It’s nothing,” you said while trying to get away from his grip. “Don’t lie, (Y/N), you and I both know that you are the worst liar in the universe, yet--” “Okay, yes! I was crying!” you yelled a bit too loudly, “I was crying because I can’t do this anymore, Kakashi, I can’t stand being home alone all the time, I can’t stand being in bed by myself and not having you here to hold me to sleep. I can’t stand not feeling your warmth by my side in the morning, and I can’t stand that you put so much effort into being hokage that I can’t even see you as often as a wife should see her husband!” “Well then, what do you want me to do, (Y/N)?! Grow eight tentacles and juggle everything at home AND at the office?! I’m trying my best to be your husband and as the protector of this village! I didn’t choose to become hokage, you and Iruka put this on me! You both were the ones who said that becoming hokage would definitely make the village a better place, well here I am-trying to make it a better place for others, yet no one would understand simply because they don’t!”

Tears were starting to well up in your eyes again. Kakashi and you never argued like this. He was always so calm and collected. You instantly regretted yelling at him. You didn’t know where that outburst came from, and you certainly didn’t mean to raise your voice at your husband. Without another word, Kakashi grabbed the towel from your hand and closed the bathroom door. You felt so bad. It wasn’t your husband’s fault. You were the reason he took the calling of being the sixth hokage, yet here you were complaining that you were alone. You knew the risks, you knew the challenges you would face, yet you were blaming your husband for the selfish desires in your heart. You sat on your bed, ashamed of the words and actions that made Kakashi go angry.

The water finished draining, and within a few seconds, Kakashi appeared in your shared bedroom. He’d wrapped himself in a white towel and had another towel in his hands drying his silver hair. The silence between the two of you was unbearable, but you didn’t know what to say, so you fixed the bed and told him to turn off the lights when he was done getting ready for bed. That night, Kakashi didn’t hold you, he didn’t even turn your way. He probably wasn’t mad, but was probably saddened by your sudden outburst. Or, he could’ve been angry that you were being selfish. Either way, you were thinking too much which made your head hurt, and before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep.

The next few days were the same-wake up, get the twins and yourself ready, cook breakfast, and out the door the three of you went. It was a continuous and basic routine. After the argument, you made sure to be asleep before Kakashi came home, and you were sure Kakashi wanted to avoid coming home in general other than to sleep and rest.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking up from your slumber, you looked at the time on the alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s 7:30 a.m.! The kids were supposed to be out of bed and eating breakfast by now! You thought as you rushed yourself out of bed, putting on your robe. Looking into the twins’ room, they were nowhere to be found. “Boys! Where are you?! We need to be at the academy in a few minutes!” You looked everywhere, but to no avail. Eventually, you made your way downstairs to the kitchen, the glorious smell still beckoning you.

Turning the corner, you realized that the boys were already dressed and ready for school. They were eating their breakfast, and you turned to see Kakashi in an apron, making more food on the stove. You didn’t know what to do-you were still running off the adrenaline of waking up late, that you stood there, dumbfounded. “What’s the matter, babe? Cat got your tongue?” Kakashi teased as you silently tried to approach the three boys you loved so dearly in your life. Shocked that Kakashi was home, making breakfast for the family for the first time in awhile, you silently sat at the far end of the table. The twins were unexpectedly quiet this morning, but you knew that since the argument the other night, the boys hadn’t said much lately. The other night. When you yelled a bit too loudly at Kakashi for taking upon himself the name of hokage. Guilt started to creep in again until the younger of the twins, Yuma, broke the silence.

“Mommy? Daddy?” Which caught yours and Kakashi’s attention. With yours and Kakashi’s attention on Yuma, he continued, “Are you going to get divorced?” You and Kakashi stared at each other and looked away, ashamed that your children had heard the arguing the night before. Before you could both reply, your other son, Riku asked, “So it’s true? Mommy and daddy don’t love each other anymore? But why--” “Who told you that?” Kakashi said, cutting the two curious boys off, who were pouting with tears welling up in their eyes. “Well... the kids from school said that when parents argue, they’re going to end up divorcing,” Riku explained. Kakashi smiled while walking towards you-the two boys deeply distraught in their own small worlds. Kissing you on the head, Kakashi explained to them, “Well, when adults argue it doesn’t mean that they’re going to divorce, it just means that there’s a problem. And if that problem doesn’t get solved the right way, then the adults argue about that problem.” Wiping their tears away, Yuma and Riku looked at you with their big eyes, waiting for another justifiable and hopeful answer from you. “That’s right, boys. We were arguing because we weren’t happy, and we needed to solve a problem. But now, that problem is fixed, so you both don’t have to worry.” “Really?! So... mommy and daddy AREN’T going to divorce?!” the two boys exclaimed together. While looking at you, Kakashi assured them, “Nope! Mommy and I are going to be together forever! Just like the day I promised I would love her forever on our wedding day.” Cheering, the boys got up to hug each other-which in turn, turned out to be Kakashi pulling you in as well while squishing the two adorable boys in between you two.

After celebrating for a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. Opening the door, Iruka walked into your living room. “Uncle Iruka! Uncle Iruka!” the boys cheered together. “Are you ready boys? School’s about to start soon! Get your bags, we need to head out ASAP!” Confused, you looked at Iruka and said, “Oh, sorry Iruka, you must be confused with the days, I’m actually taking them today. You’re just a week early on picking them up, I’m afraid.” With a smile, Iruka simply looked over at Kakashi and winked at you, “don’t worry about it, I’m sure there’ll be another one on the way real soon-or maybe another two.”

Before you could say anything else, Iruka and the boys were already on their way to school. You were left behind, stunned by the words that had come out of Iruka’s mouth. Looking up at the clock, you realized that you only had ten minutes before classes were starting, and you panicked, rushing up the stairs to get ready for work. Stopping you dead in your tracks, Kakashi stared at you and simply said, “you’re off of work today,” before walking down the steps. For sure, he was the hokage, but you had your duties and he had his. He wasn’t going to use his power against you. Before taking another step, Kakashi warned you, “I told you that you’re off today. Just get dressed to travel.” “Why? Where are we going?” you asked curiously. “Just get dressed.”

While you were busy getting dressed, you realized that there were two packed bags in your closet. The ones you and Kakashi had last used for your honeymoon, where you’d conceived the twins. Just thinking about your honeymoon made you think of the things you and Kakashi had done. Things that made you feel a certain way-the only certain way Kakashi could ever make you feel. Things that couldn’t be explained, and things that should never be explained about. You couldn’t think about that right now. You were even surprised that Kakashi had been home this morning-or even that he’d spoken to you.

Waiting on the couch in your living room, Kakashi brought the luggage downstairs and checked all the doors in the house to make sure no intruders could enter. You were confused and had so many questions, but that’s what Kakashi hated-questions. Sometimes, you had too many, and he’d get slightly impatient with you. Seeing as though he seemed to still be a bit distant since the argument, you decided to go along with whatever it was he was planning.

Walking out of Konoha, you were wondering where the boys would be staying-who they would be staying with. As if reading your mind, Kakashi interrupted your thoughts saying, “the boys will be with Iruka while we’re gone.” With a content state of mind, you decided to let that thought go. Iruka was a trustworthy person who knew how to take care of children, and he’d taken care of the boys before. If he ever needed help, he knew that Asuma and Kurenai would be of help since they had a little one of their own as well. Hearing the rustling of the leaves around the both of you, you weren’t afraid. They were simply members of the Anbu black-ops who had to stay by Kakashi’s side no matter where he went. You weren’t bothered by them, but you weren’t comfortable enough to make conversation with them either.

You walked silently behind Kakashi, afraid that asking any questions would anger him even more than you already had the few nights ago. Kakashi didn’t seem mad, but he did seem occupied in his mind. After walking for a whole day, Kakashi stopped at a private sauna bath. As you both walked in, you didn’t see anyone other than workers there. Wondering where other customers were, you asked the ladies at the front desk while trying to make small talk. The women then explained that the hokage had made arrangements that it be reserved for the two of you only. Surprised, you were speechless. Kakashi wasn’t one to make these types of arrangements. While settling down into your suite, you and Kakashi changed your clothes from what you wore to travel into bathrobes to enter the hot bath.

While sitting in silence and enjoying the hot relaxing water on your body, you heard a simple “I’m sorry.” It was so quiet and subtle that you weren’t sure you’d heard Kakashi correctly. It wasn’t until he looked up at you that you realized he was speaking to you. His eyes were tired. His body exhausted from the constant slouch he had when sitting in his chair in his office. You never had time to look at your husband, you just knew that he was never endlessly working and never home. You were simply selfish from your desires and struggles that you were only finally realizing how much your husband had been through these past six years. Sure, you’d been through hell and back throughout the years as well, but Kakashi had double the pain in the rear end you had.

You had tears forming in your eyes as you thought back to the night of the argument. “I’m sorry too,” you finally expressed with a smile toward your husband. Relieved of the tension between the two of you, Kakashi motioned for you to cuddle with him in the water. Sliding your body toward him, you put your head on his chest while he laid on the outer wall of the sauna. “You didn’t have to do this, Kakashi. We could’ve just had a day to ourselves at home.” “No, we both needed this, (Y/N). Plus, we’re going to be here for a bit, so we might as well appreciate that Iruka was willing to take care of the twins while we’re gone,” Kakashi replied. Kakashi went on, “we’ve both been stressed over little things, it’s about time we’ve been spending more time together. We’re not getting any younger, and I don’t think our minds can last any longer without each other.”

For the rest of the night, you both caught up on things you were unable to say to  each other for the past few months. There were tears and laughter mixed into that night. For the first time in awhile, you felt happy. Not that you weren’t happy with your life at home, but you needed a break from being the perfect wife, mother, and teacher. Anyone would understand, but you knew Kakashi would understand the most. Although you’d never been hokage either, you understood the stress he went through as leader of one of the most powerful villages in the land of fire.

“(Y/N),” Kakashi said while stroking your hair, “I hope you never feel like I’m neglecting you. I know I’m not the best husband, but I love you. And I may not always be home, but just know that--” “--that there’s always an anbu black-op watching over us at home?” Shocked at your words, Kakashi just simply sighed to himself. “So you knew...” “Silly! Of course I knew! You and I were the most formidable couple in Konoha back in the day-and you think I wouldn’t notice that an anbu black-op is simply pit-patting on our roof daily?” With a small O formed on his mouth, you simply calmed his racing heart, “I appreciate that you did that, Kakashi. It makes the boys and me feel safer at home. That’s how I always knew you cared-from hearing the anbu on the roof. That was your way of showing you cared about us even though you couldn’t be there yourself at home.”

With that, you pulled Kakashi’s mask down, revealing his rose pink lips. Kissing him felt like it was the first time again. It’d been so long since you felt his strong arms around you, holding your waist as though you were going to disappear if he didn’t hold tight enough. Your kiss turned out to be more than you both thought it’d be-a make out session. Kakashi grabbed you and lifted you up onto his lap. You looked away and blushed, being reminded of the weight you’d gained since you both had been married and had the twins. “What’s wrong?” Kakashi asked, clearly concerned. “Nothing, I just got fat--” Cutting you off with a kiss, Kakashi’s lips left yours as he made it clear while looking into your eyes, “you are beautiful. Probably even more beautiful than the night we first made love. Look at me.” Blushing, you finally looked at your husband, making such intense eye contact that caused for you to look down. Kakashi was impatient and unsatisfied with the way you were acting, and flipped you over onto your back. With a yelp, you were under your husband’s muscular body, under his mercy.

Kakashi started kissing your neck, making sure to leave marks. No one would be able to see them as you were both the only people at the sauna (other than Kakashi’s anbu guards), but you knew they were going to leave a mark for at least a week. You made small whimpers as Kakashi kept nibbling behind your ears and collarbone. “Don’t hold back, baby. I’ll make you feel even better than I did on our honeymoon. I want to hear you,” Kakashi softly said against your skin. Slowly peeling your silk robe from your body, Kakashi made sure each part of the surface of your skin was well taken care of. He traveled down to your breasts, caressing one of your mounds in his hand while bringing his mouth down on the other. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You were finally making love with Kakashi again but without anything holding you back; no kids sleeping in the next room, no next door neighbors.

When Kakashi flicked his tongue against your nipple, you felt a noise leave your lips. It wasn’t a small whimper, it was a moan that had been hidden inside for the past few years. You took Kakashi’s silver hair in between your fingers and pulled, signaling to him that you wanted more-no, you needed more. Kakashi kept nibbling and flicking his tongue against your breast and moved onto the other, giving it the same love. You were already a moaning and wet mess as he moved further down to your lower abdomen. He kissed your stomach, making sure to leave a wet trail of his saliva, marking your body as his. “Please, Kakashi. Stop teasing,” you begged breathlessly. “Not yet, baby. I’m going to make sure you feel loved. I’m going to take it slow-it’s been too long.” Groaning at the painstakingly slow pace Kakashi was taking with you, you could only sit there and wait for whatever he was going to do to your body next.

Kakashi continued to slowly kiss all of the sweet spots on your abdomen, making you even wetter. You forgot how this all felt, the way Kakashi’s mouth felt on your skin, his rough calloused hands holding your waist down, and the way you could moan freely out in the open. Lifting himself up hovering over your body, he kissed your lips slowly and sweetly, then pulled away and got out of bed. He reached over into the nightstand and pulled something out. A piece of cloth-made of silk, and put it over your eyes. He then got up again, grabbing something else out of the nightstand. Wondering what it was, you turned your body-attempting to somehow see out of the silk cloth over your eyes, but failing instead as you felt Kakashi’s hands on your waist. “Stay still, baby,” he hushed as you whimpered from the random contact, “tonight’s all about you. I just need you to be a good girl and stay still for me.” Grabbing both of your wrists, he tied another silk cloth around your wrists and brought them against the headboard. As he tied your wrists to the headboard, you could feel his hard cock rubbing against his pants- as if it was teasing you without needing to be inside you.

After successfully tying up your wrists, he continued to worship your body. He kissed over your body another round, causing for you to whimper louder and louder the lower he went, closer to your sopping core. You wanted to touch Kakashi-it was unfair that only he could touch you. Attempting to free your wrists from the silk ties, Kakashi stopped all contact. Whining from the loss of contact, Kakashi’s voice came beside your ear and all you heard was, “I told you to be a good girl and to stay still. We’ll get to where you want to be in a bit, baby.” After a long pause, he continued, “--will you be a good girl and stay still?” Nodding your head adamantly, he simply whispered, “good,” and continued his painstaking process.

You tried to stay still as his lips ended up on your thighs, making sure to get each and every corner of your body. The moment he spread your legs to get a better view, you closed your legs. It’d been too long since someone else other than yourself had seen your naked and bare body. “Sorry, I--” “It’s okay, baby. It’s just me. I know it’s been awhile, but I’ll make it up to you tonight,” Kakashi assured you while peeling your legs apart. You let him spread your legs apart, feeling the cool air hit your wet, sopping core. Kakashi kissed your left ankle, making sure you felt his wet tongue gliding down your calf; trailing his mouth up your thigh, getting closer to your core. Just when you thought he was going to surely reach your dripping core, he pulled away which caused a whine to leave your mouth. He then did the same thing to your right leg, kissing your right ankle, trailing his mouth and tongue down your leg to your thigh. The air hitting differently than before from his saliva on your legs.

You whimpered at his painstakingly and patient actions. Kakashi then put your legs down, and started kissing your inner thighs, teasing you where he knew you were most sensitive. Because it was your sensitive spot, your legs reacted by closing around Kakashi’s head. Using his strong hands to pull your legs apart, he asked in a deep voice, “Are you going to quit? Or do I need to leave you dripping here for the rest of the night, baby?” “No, please. I’m sorry, Kakashi,” you pleaded as you laid there, making sure your body was his to toy with for the time being. He waited until you were done fixing your posture before he brought his hand to your sopping core. With a moan leaving your mouth, you slightly squirmed under his touch before stopping, remembering to stay still. “You’re already dripping so much for me, baby. It’s making me go crazy,” Kakashi said as he starting rubbing your throbbing clit, making you moan louder and louder with every small movement.

The pace of his hand picked up against your clit, making you moan louder and louder, meanwhile attempting not to squirm. While rubbing your throbbing clit, Kakashi took your left breast into his mouth and the other in his left hand. He eventually slowly inserted one of his fingers into your dripping core. With his right hand working on your core, his mouth on your breast, and his left hand on your other breast, you felt your orgasm coming. He proceeded to insert another finger into your heat. Closer and closer. It was coming closer and building up. You felt it coming, your whimpers and moans a sign to Kakashi. Within a moment, Kakashi removed himself from your body, denying you of your orgasm. “Kakashi, please let me cum,” you begged, “why’d you do that?” “Not too fast, baby. I told you I’m taking my time tonight,” he said before kissing your lips softly. Clearly frustrated, you pouted, making sure that even though you couldn’t see Kakashi, he could see your anger and frustration.

The next thing you knew, Kakashi’s soft lips were on your pussy, making you moan and writhe while he held your hips down-both of his arms around your thighs, making sure you weren’t going anywhere. “Ka-kakashi,” you moaned at the random sensation. While eating you out, Kakashi made sure he was hitting each and every sweet spot he could reach. He made sure to lick you up and down, swirl his tongue, and even write the alphabet while holding you down. “Kakashi--please, just fuck me,” you begged while practically on the verge of tears. They weren’t tears of pain, they were tears of pleasure-from the pleasure that was almost releasing again. Your moans were getting louder and louder. It would’ve been embarrassing that the workers and anbu could hear you, but you could care less. At least they knew that Kakashi was good in bed, and that you were Kakashi’s woman.

Nearing your orgasm, Kakashi pulled away again. Disappointed, you were about to whine and complain, but your tied wrists were pulled off the headboard of the bed. Kakashi had you on his lap, both of your wrists still tied together, wrapped around his neck. Both of your legs wrapped around his waist. Before you knew it, Kakashi had both your legs over his arms and was slowly guiding you down onto his throbbing cock. Filling you up, you moaned at how much you’d missed being stretched out by Kakashi’s cock. Guiding you slowly up and down on his cock, Kakashi kept whispering into your ear how you were such a good girl for listening to him, and that you were doing such a good job. He eventually picked up the pace, making you a loud mess. Each of your moans were met with his lips on yours-attempting to at least silence some moans.

After a few more thrusts, Kakashi lifted you off his cock, taking your arms and pinning them back up onto the headboard. Forcefully flipping you onto your knees, your ass in the air, giving Kakashi a perfect view of your core. Slapping one of your ass cheeks, Kakashi kissed the other while teasing your core with his cock. Whining and attempting to push yourself onto his throbbing huge cock, Kakashi disappeared off the bed and grabbed something from the nightstand again. “Open your mouth,” he demanded. Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and felt him put a finger in your mouth followed by a gag ball. Tying the back of the gag ball onto the back of your head, Kakashi returned behind you on the bed. Grabbing a fist full of your hair, Kakashi forced you to lift your head- making the perfect arch with your back. Within a second, Kakashi was pounding into you, making you moan against the gag ball-tears forming on the rim of your eyes. Kakashi kept pounding into you, harder and harder, bringing your orgasm closer and closer, again and again. A few more thrusts and you were sure your orgasm was going to come crashing down on you. Sensing that you were close, Kakashi took your wrists off the headboard, flipping you around while you were still on his cock. Still thrusting into you, slowly this time, he took the gag ball off your head, and put your tied wrists around his neck, taking you in missionary position. Kakashi wanted to see every part of you. Picking up the once slow pace, each and every thrust getting rougher and rougher, Kakashi was about to reach his limit as well.

You couldn’t say much, just whimpering Kakashi’s name here and there but moaning louder and louder with each thrust, being overstimulated by how fast and rough Kakashi was taking you. Kakashi wasn’t kissing you to silence your loud moans anymore. In fact, he was moaning against your skin as well, groaning and growling deeply while leaving bite marks into your skin. Each and every one of his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier, but you could care less as Kakashi brought his hand to rub your clit to get you off faster and faster. You felt the fire inside you burning up higher and higher, your moans louder and louder. With the mixture of your sweat dripping bodies, Kakashi’s cock throbbing and thrusting inside you, and your mixed moans, your orgasm was reaching. It came as a small release but grew more and more. You clenched around Kakashi’s cock as you came, breathless and speechless. He was hitting your g-spot over and over, you couldn’t contain your orgasm anymore. Your release came as you pulled Kakashi’s body closer to yours. You squirmed under Kakashi as your high came and you couldn’t contain it anymore. You could feel Kakashi cum inside you as well, filling you up and his thrusts slowing as he rammed the last few thrusts into you. Meanwhile, Kakashi was busy worshipping the other body parts of yours, making your orgasm even more intense. As your body came down from the high, you couldn’t remember much, just that everything went black.

This fire inside of you, one that had been rekindled tonight by Kakashi Hatake, your husband. It felt so good to find a release as well. A real release-not one from a pillow, your fingers, or a vibrator. It felt miraculous, but you were unsure of what had happened after being overstimulated. You woke up to the feeling of warm towels rubbing against your inner thighs as Kakashi stood above you, taking care of your worn out body. “Hi, baby,” Kakashi whispered as he kissed you with a smile on his face. With a weak smile on your face you asked Kakashi what happened after you both came. He explained that you blacked out from being overstimulated, but that you were going to be okay since he was going to take care of you for the rest of the night. Carrying you to the bathroom, you realized that Kakashi had a hot bath ready for the both of you to clean yourselves off in. Laying your head on Kakashi’s chest behind you in the bathtub, you both spoke softly about how you thought Iruka and the boys were doing and imagining what they could possibly be doing at the time as well.

After drying off, you were reaching for your suitcase to find your pajamas to wear to sleep, but Kakashi insisted that you both forget clothes altogether and sleep naked. You didn’t mind, but were afraid that an anbu or employee would walk in and see you both sleeping naked. “It’s okay, baby,” Kakashi explained, “they won’t be bothering us unless we call for them.” Pulling you into his strong arms, hot bodies pressed together, you couldn’t remember the last time Kakashi and you had spent the night simply enjoying each other’s presence and truly making love instead of having a quickie. “Baby?” you asked Kakashi, looking up at him. “What is it, babe?” “What did Iruka mean when he said that maybe there’d be another one or two on the way?” you asked curiously. “Well...we’re going to be here for an entire week, beautiful. So that means that this is only round one,” he explained and chuckled as he saw your wide eyes realizing what Iruka meant by one or two more on the way. Trying to avoid any other surprises, you laid your head back onto Kakashi’s chest. After laughing to himself, Kakashi whispered a gentle “goodnight” before kissing your forehead as you dozed off to sleep, dreaming about the next few rounds that were bound to come.

[farfromtommy]

better than this (dad!chris evans)

summary: a little insight into life as a parent with chris throughout the years 

warnings: talk of preterm labor but nothing graphic or major

word count: 2,250

A/N: okay so like this idea came to me at 2 am and wrote it till about 5 in the morning and im crying at the softness. totally unedited and posted bc im so obsessed with it. i havent written in this kind of format before but i loved loved loved it. i was also thinking while writing this to do this but for steve rogers and i swear i lost my mind. if you guys are interested in something like that id love to write this but for steve <3 

masterlist 

add yourself to my taglist here! 

After meeting through some mutual friends you fell in love with each other. Chris swore he would have married you after your first date. A ring came about a year and a half later, Chris not wanting to call you anything but his wife for any longer. One dream wedding and a month-long honeymoon around the world, you were Mrs. Y/N Evans.

The conversation about kids came fairly early in the relationship. Him coming from a big family, he wanted the same for himself. He wanted a big house in the Massachusetts suburbs, the white picket fence, a couple of dogs, and the kids. He wanted to come home from work being attacked by a couple of kids and seeing you walking towards him barefoot and pregnant.

You were an only child to divorced parents, growing up mostly on your own. You never saw yourself as a mom, but always loved the idea of running after a couple of kids. Never wanting to bring a child into the kind of world you grew up in. The sad and lonely kind of world you endured most of your life. After meeting his family after a couple of months of dating and seeing the way he interacted with his nieces and nephews, you couldn’t help but hope to see yourself raising some kids with him.

He loved the idea of raising a family with you.

Grayson Christopher Evans

You brought your first child into the world not too long after your wedding.

You were in labor for about 16 hours before you were met with the screams of a baby boy.

Your baby boy.

He cried and cried until his skin met yours, calming him down almost instantly. Looking over at Chris who was at an absolute loss for words at the little person calming himself with the sound of your heartbeat. He looked at you for a while before looking back at his baby boy.

Chris couldn’t quite process the feelings he felt that night his son was born. He knew how much he loved you. You knew how much you loved him. But having this little person as a tangible expression of your love and commitment for each other was just beyond him. It was beyond anyone.

Grayson was just like his dad. Almost an exact copy of him if you were being honest. The same big blue eyes. The same soft brown hair. The same everything. Lisa often said how much Grayson was just like Chris was when he was a kid. There was little of you visible in him. Maybe he had the curve of your nose and the shape of your lips. But he was all Chris.

His little personality bubbling since day one. You couldn't have asked for a more perfect baby. He giggled as much as he could and played until he fell asleep with a toy in his hand. You were so lucky to have been gifted this little boy as your first baby. Chris had been struggling to balance work and his responsibility to you and Grayson but never failed to make sure you knew how loved you both were, even from thousands of miles apart.

Eleanor Olivia Evans

After another long labor, you welcomed a little girl into your new family of 4. A tiny little girl who, just like your boy once did, calmed themselves down at the sound of your heart and the warmth from your body. Chris once again sat there just absolutely beside himself at the sight of the love of his life with his little girl on your chest.

Introducing Eleanor, or Ellie, to Grayson was probably one of the greatest moments of your life. Chris walked in with Grayson in his arms telling him that we needed to use our indoor voices when talking to mommy and the baby. Grayson quickly climbed to sit right next to you, not bearing even 1 day away from you. You hugged your little boy and talked to him about meeting his sister. Grayson ran his little hands running along Eleanor’s cheeks as you sat there crying at the moment they were having with each other.

Now with a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old life couldn’t have been sweeter. You had hardly been working while pregnant with Ellie, still having to keep up with a rambunctious toddler. Before kids, you were doing some writing for all sorts of movies and TV shows. After kids, you took fewer jobs that require travel and stayed mostly local.

Chris not wanting to leave you at home with a toddler and a newborn had made sure his work kept him close or allowed you and the kids to go with him. You both wanted to make sure you were there when Grayson and Ellie needed you.

If Grayson was a mama’s boy, Ellie was 1000% a daddy’s girl. She refused to let Chris out of her sight if she could help it. She refused to sleep most nights without hearing the sound of her dad’s voice and would cry and cry if he didn’t sing her to sleep. When Chris was pulled away for a week for work you were losing your mind trying to get her to sleep.

After a mild breakdown, you gave in and called Chris knowing even hearing his voice over the phone would calm the baby down. He sat there on the phone and just talked to her. She fell asleep almost immediately and slept through most of the night. You thanked Chris and ended up asking him for voice recordings of him talking and singing so you could play them in case he was pulled away again.

Charlotte Rose Evans

Charlotte, or Charlie as she's been nicknamed by her siblings, came into the world with a crew waiting so patiently for her arrival. By far the most painful and complicated birth you have had, she had quite dramatically made her entrance into the Evans family.

You had been monitored closely the last couple of months of your pregnancy as Miss Charlie tried to make an appearance early. You had some complications about halfway through and your midwife had been worried about possible preterm labor. You had started to have what you knew were contractions at 30 weeks and were immediately rushed into the hospital to try and halt the contractions and luckily succeeding.

You were placed on strict bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy, not even allowed to stand at the stove making dinner, only getting up to use the bathroom and move from the bed to the couch.

It didn’t make your life with an overactive 4 and 2-year-old easy at all. Chris stayed home 24/7 to take care of you and his mom and sisters rotating taking the time to stay with you to help with the kids.

When Charlie did make her debut both of you were as healthy as you could be. Once again, bringing Chris to tears as another baby made their way into your family. He didn’t know he was capable of loving this much. He thought he had reached capacity after Ellie but the love he had for you and his kids just kept growing as you kept adding on.

If Grayson was all Chris, Charlie was all you. Except for her blue eye, which you figured would be a pattern with your kids. She was a copy of you and Chris ate it up. Eleanor is a perfect combination of the two of you. You could see the traits of you as well as the traits of Chris throughout her. But Charlie was completely you.

Grayson fit right into his role as big brother and protector of the Evans girls. He made sure every night he said goodnight to his sisters and told them he loved them with a kiss on their foreheads.

Ellie was excited that she no longer had to share her dolls with Grayson and would finally have a girl to play with. Charlie looked up to her big sister, seeing her as the most amazing person she has ever met.

Grayson, however, felt like he needed another sibling, specifically a boy sibling, and constantly asked you for a brother. He said to you over and over again that his friends at school had brothers and he needed one so very bad. You and Chris had agreed to stop at 3 but had given into the idea of having 1 more to try and even out the numbers. With Grayson in 2nd grade, Ellie in kindergarten, and Charlie starting Pre-K soon, having another wouldn’t be impossible.

Declan Robert Evans

The 2nd boy and the 4th and final child Chris and Y/N had brought into their world. Another perfect mix of Chris and Y/N.

His birth being the last time you would be in the hospital having a baby made it just that more emotional. You soaked in the first moments of his life just a little bit more. Chris cried just a couple more tears, seeing that angel on your chest for the first time. You admired the father of your children just a little more seeing him introduce the addition to the family to your other kids. Adoring the look on Grayson’s face when you set Declan on his lap, finally meeting the little brother he’d been wanting. Asking you if he could take him to class to show off to all his friends.

Walking around your house Declan’s first day home was more emotional than you had thought it would be. You brought every single one of your babies right through your front door. You had pictures littered around the house of moments in your life you were lucky to have immortalized forever. Knowing you had started your family here made you love everything just that much more.

Declan now 5 years old, Charlotte 8 years old, Eleanor 10 years old and Grayson at 12 years old you couldn’t imagine life any differently. You and Chris celebrated 13 years of marriage and almost 15 years together surrounded by the physical representations of the love you two shared for each other was unexplainable.

You had slowly started to get back into the work you loved doing so much after Declan started school. You were able to work on projects offered to you with Chris and had become an unstoppable duo professionally and personally.

Even having the amazing opportunities to do something you loved to do, nothing would ever beat sitting around a table listening to your kids talk about everything and anything that came to mind. Listening to them talk about what happened at school or about upcoming events they want to participate in was the highlight of your day.

Grayson had been playing with a football the moment he could pick one up. Chris nearly cried when Grayson had approached you guys about doing little league football at the rec center. Chris had been watching Patriot's games with Grayson since the day he was born. Taking him to games with Scott whenever they had the chance. The love for football ran in his blood and when he found out he could play on a team he took the chance as soon as it presented himself.

Eleanor had found a love for music and performing, just like her dad. She had picked up music and singing at a very young age, which probably came from her dad's love of performing. You encouraged her to pursue her love for music by telling her stories of when her daddy was young and used to stand on stage before he started doing big movies. She loved looking at pictures and watching old videos of Chris performing in high school whenever she'd visit Grandma Lisa.

Charlotte had picked up your love of reading and writing as soon as she could. Her favorite day of the week is when her class gets to spend time at the library finding new things to read and learn about. So far a running theme with her is books about nature and animals. She loves sitting down with you in the afternoon and telling you about what she learned in the science portion of her day. She had learned about how plants and animals interact and how important they are for all humans. She told you that when she's big she wants to make sure no one ever hurts plants and animals since they are so important for us.

Declan hadn't quite developed a love for something like his siblings had. All he cares about right now is the kind of snacks his mom packs for him and superheroes. You and Chris had introduced him to the world of superheroes recently, knowing that being in school someone was bound to mention to him about seeing his dad on a movie they watched. He was obsessed with the fact that his dad was a superhero once upon a time. He loved watching Chris' movies and would always ask to watch them whenever Chris wasn't home.

You looked at Chris from across the table as Grayson talked to him about football tryouts and asking him if they could practice after dinner. He felt your eyes on him and looked at you with a smirk and a wink thrown at you before giving Grayson his attention again.

You sat back a little to look around at this family surrounding you, knowing there was nothing better than this.

[anika-ann]

Let’s Do Something Different Tonight (Or Not)

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 1840

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Characters: Matt Murdock, Reader, few others mentioned

Summary: It’s been two years since the day you married Matt and tonight, you’re going out to celebrate, like normal couples do. --Yeah, about that...

Warnings: blood and injury, mention of alcohol, attempt at humour (bordering on crack-ish)

A/N: A post Valentine’s day fic for everyone who has deals with loveable idiots. It’s hard to with them sometimes. Often, it’s even harder without them. Enjoy!

Matt was almost on time. You had your reservation for eight and it was five after eight when he finally showed up at his – and for a while now, also yours – apartment, so you would be able to make it to the restaurant only a little late.

Key word? ‘Would’. That would be if he hadn’t used the rooftop access instead of the front door and hadn’t been clutching his side when he stumbled in with his hair being a perfect mess with a smear of blood in it.

You stood in the middle of the living room, staring at him as he walked down the stairs with an apologizing expression.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he said out, hissing as he stepped down the last stair with not so much grace. You just kept staring, this time incredulously. “I got mugged,” he explained, his lips turning into a reversed U. Also, blood was now soaking though his suit under his fingers.

You shook your head to snap yourself from your trance, reaching for the hem of your dress only to pull it over your head. When you tossed them over one of the armchairs and turned to Matt to give him the attention he deserved and needed, he looked utterly taken aback.

“What are you doing?” he asked, perfectly baffled.

“I’m not playing doctor with you in this dress. It’s new. I don’t want blood on it.”

It was expensive. You had chosen it carefully – just like the rest of your new clothes ever since you had gotten together with Matt –, paying extra attention to the material, anxious about the fabric feeling good under Matt’s fingers. Shopping had kinda become a nightmare since you had to pick clothes which not only looked good, but mainly felt good; however, with the way Matt appreciated it, it was totally worth it.

“The material sounded really soft. You looked beautiful in it.”

You scratched your forehead, abashed, as you walked to the bathroom to get the first aid kit, returning to Matt who seated himself on the couch, stripping his jacket to reveal a huge bloodstain on his shirt.

“Jesus, Matt.”

The man in question honest to god pouted. “You’ll wear that dress again, right?”

“Of course I will,” you reassured him tiredly as he took off the shirt as well. “That was the whole point of stripping it – keep it clean of bloodstains so I can wear it again…. for our like, thirtieth anniversary when you won’t be coming home bleeding anymore.”

“I had to let them cut me. I didn’t even call the police to make it home faster. I was trying-“

“I’m sorry, you what?” you asked incredulously, unable to believe what you were hearing.

“I was trying?” he repeated hesitantly, well-aware that it wasn’t the part that caught your… ear, so to speak.

“No, no, did you just say you let them cut you, didn’t call the police, so you could be home faster? Are you insane?”

“I didn’t want you to wait. We rarely get out for a dinner or something else. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Though I did come after the guys to chase down my wallet because that would mean a whole new set of time-demanding problems. But don’t worry, I crashed the lights before I went down on them,” he added hastily as if it would made the whole situation better.

You wordlessly let the gloves smack against your skin louder than necessary. Matt winced.

“Matt Murdock, I love you, I love what you’re willing to do for me and the world, but I swear to God, sometimes you’re just being utterly, utterly stupid. Priorities, Matt. Now show me.”

It turned out that Matt hadn’t let them cut him once, but twice. And by ‘cut’ he meant what could almost be called a stab wound. You silently worked your way through it, reminding yourself to buy Claire another fruit basket. A year supply of chocolate. Spa weekend, maybe. She had not only taught you the basics of the first aid to reckless loveable idiots, but also had shared her tips and tricks that she had discovered during the years of working on ER, making your life easier.

Matt was wisely silent while you were stitched him up – whether it was because he was controlling himself not to let out a single sound of distress or because he didn’t want to piss you off by saying something to make you snap, you didn’t know.

“Do you really think I prefer you getting home earlier so we wouldn’t miss our reservation coming with the price of you being injured to actually showing up healthy?” you asked as you finished your work of art.

His pout grew bigger, providing you the answer.

“Christ, Matt.”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly fight them off, at least not completely. Identity and stuff,” Matt defended his actions. You couldn’t shake off the feeling of something being a little strange about him. Like… stranger than usual. The way he talked…

“Well, you still didn’t need to get cut or— or at least you could have deflect it partly, this is awfully deep. Was. All done now.” Truth to your words, you stripped the gloves, rolling them up and placing them on the coffee table. You looked at his face, running your hand through his sweaty hair. He leaned into it slightly, like always. “Oh Matt… what do I do with a man like you?”

“Kiss the pain better?” he offered shyly, the corners of his lips twitching. You rolled your eyes at this ridiculous man.

“Ha! You’re hilarious!” His expression changed, transferring into- “Oh crap, not the puppy eyes. Come on, Matt, don’t-”

You sighed, leaning in, kissing him lightly on the lips. You were never able to resist the huge imploring eyes of his.

“I hate you,” you murmured as you withdrew – or wanted to, his lips following yours instead, sinking into them, caressing gently, testing your will when nibbling on your lower lip.

Oh, he always knew what to do to keep your fingers tingling, to have your heart fluttering – the feeling might have faded a little with the years, but it was still here. You opened your mouth for him, a clear invitation for his tongue. He didn’t hesitate.

“And I love you,” he breathed into your mouth, his hand rising.

“Don’t touch the bra-“ you warned him, curling your fingers around his wrist to stop him. You withdrew so it didn’t temp him. The bra wasn’t nearly as expensive as the dress, but it wasn’t cheap either.

“But it’s laced and they always feel so, so nice-“ he whimpered and you blinked. Okay, that was new. Seriously, where had his brain (possibly lower brain)-mouth filter left to?

“Maybe, but it’s also skin-toned. Not blood-toned. You smear it with blood and I’m not wearing it again.”

“But you said we were playing doctor,” he noted, looking honestly confused. You had really said that? And what the hell was it with him…?

You gaped at him when the realization finally hit you.

“Oh my god. Are you drunk?”

Matt was silent for a short moment; the kind of an answer that spoke volumes. Matt Murdock was drunk.

“…the client insisted on two glasses of scotch…,” Matt admitted with hesitation and you sensed some sort of a ‘but’ coming. “And then said the third time was a charm.”

Three glasses of scotch?!

“So you’re not only late for our anniversary dinner, you’ve not only gotten yourself half-stabbed, but you’re also drunk. Wow. I want a divorce,” you stated resolutely, only joking of course. Still, you couldn’t believe him. It should have been your night out. Together as a couple. To celebrate the two years you had been together as husband and wife. And he… wow. You probably should be mad, anyone else would be, but… you were kinda used to dealing with Matt’s bullshit (to be fair, Matt also had to deal with yours) and it was usually more scary and life-threatening. This was actually kinda funny. The drunk part anyway. “You think Foggy will charge me a fortune if I hire him?”

Matt frowned. “You don’t mean that. And if you did, do you honestly think he would represent you?”

You raised your eyebrow, waiting for him to realize what he had just said. Of course Foggy would represent you. You were plotting against Matt together oh so often… he would take your side. Matt probably came to same conclusion, because he grimaced.

“Yeah, he probably would. Well, would want to and then Marci would bully him so she could take your side instead of him.”

“I barely know Marci,” you noted, confused.

“Yeah, but she’s up to a challenge and she always claimed me and Foggy will get married one day and  was actually jealous of me. She would take any opportunity to take our duo down in one strike.”

“I thought Foggy was friends with her.”

“They are somewhere between friends and frenemies. I guess that happens when you end the whole friends with benefits thing.”

Huh. Marci was still bitter about that? Who would think Mrs. No Strings Attached had feelings? To be fair, Foggy was insanely likeable, so you could really blame her-

…why were you thinking about Marci?

“After all this time… you still manage to distract me perfectly,” you complained, actually ashamed. Damn you, Murdock. And Murdock.

Matt tilted his head slightly, challenging. “I know a whole lot more ways of distracting you. If I wash my hands, can I touch the bra? I mean, we’re already too late for the dinner, aren’t we?”

You watched him incredulously for a minute; his messy hair which was the result of him rushing home, his absolutely not kissable lips inconspicuously pursed, his hopeful eyes with a spark of mischievousness somehow seeing you even after losing sight. Your gaze flickered to the fine suit he had prepared for the dinner. It was too late to go to the restaurant, wasn’t it?

When you looked back at him, you could tell he knew he had won, because a tiny smile appeared on his face, a careful elevation of the corners of his lips.

You sighed. You were so weak. “Go wash your bloody hands, you overgrown child. We’re going to bed.”

“Love you,” he chipped happily and kissed your cheek, rushing to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes at him fondly.

“I’m on top, you’re injured!” you shouted after him, closing the box with medical supplies and walking to the fridge to get Matt a glass of juice. He needed liquids and sugar dammit.

“Whatever you say, honey!”

You blinked, taken aback. ‘Honey?’ Matt had never called you that – mostly he stuck to your name or a nickname, occasionally calling you ‘love’ if he was being particularly tender. Endearments weren’t his thing.

Oh boy, he really was so royally drunk, wasn’t he?

You smiled for yourself at the idea. This should be fun.

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Thank you for reading! 

If you enjoy Matt fics, I’ll be posting a few more RI, but mostly I’ve written for Matt x OFC. 

If interested, check out my M.M. masterlist ;)

[klovenhooves]

Johnny Lawrence and the Five Love Languages, Chapter Five: Words of Affirmation

Johnny yanked open his closet door, eyes searching the sparse offerings, brow furrowed. Behind him, Miguel shifted his weight onto his other foot, face similarly focused, eyes critically searching the clothes.

 “He knows what kind of clothes you wear, Sensei,” he started hopefully. “I don’t think you need to –”

 “So you’re just going to wear whatever, then?” he asked, his tone vaguely snappy, and Miguel pursed his lips. “You and I are both under the microscope, Diaz,” he said, turning back to the closet. “And I am always worse upon closer inspection.”

 “Sensei, don’t be ridiculous,” Miguel reassured, dropping a hand to Johnny’s shoulder. “He wouldn’t have invited you if he didn’t like you.”

Which, fine, Johnny could accept that idea, but that didn’t make him feel any less nervous. It certainly didn’t answer the question of what he should wear to this ill-advised get together that he’d been invited to. He was reminded, far too often, of his first date with Ali, where they spent the whole night dancing around the idea of their first kiss, only to chicken out and then not, ultimately ruining the romance the first kiss deserved.

 In the months following, they laughed about that story like it was charming, but it always seemed weird to Johnny. Even now, years later, that was still an indicator of what overthinking could do, and now that he and LaRusso had been interrupted not once but twice, he had to wonder if the actual act would live up to the anticipation.

 “You and Miguel should come to dinner at my place,” Daniel had said over the phone, the tone of his voice alone telling Johnny that he was smiling. “Robby, Sam, and Anthony will be here.”

 “What, like a –” he caught himself before the word ‘date’ could come out, but the silence on the other end of the line told him that Daniel was waiting for him to finish the sentence. Stubbornly, he stayed quiet, Miguel, on his couch, looked at him in confusion.

 “Who is it?” he had mouthed, waving his arms to get Johnny’s attention.

 “It can be whatever you want it to be, John,” Daniel said into the silence that showed no signs of abating. “Will you come?”

 Johnny snapped his jaw shut where it had fallen open against his will. He wasn’t sure when he started to notice the innuendo in some of the things Daniel said, but now that he was aware of it, talking to the man was far more difficult.

 “Johnny?”

 “Sensei, why is your face red?”

 “When?” he asked into the phone, noticing as he spoke how rough his voice sounded. He cleared his throat.

 He could hear Daniel smiling again. “Tomorrow? 7.”

 “You free tomorrow at 7?” he asked Miguel, who looked at him with wide, confused eyes.

 “We’ll be there,” he said, shushing Miguel with a hand, eyes on the coffee table, listening for Daniel’s response.

 “Good,” Daniel said, satisfied. “It’s a date.”

 He hung up before Johnny could respond, but he kept the phone to his ear, spluttering, while Miguel stared at him with a half-smile.

 And now they were here, Johnny quickly realizing that he was probably going to need a beer before he even got to LaRusso’s place if he wanted to keep his cool. Miguel impatiently nudged him out of the way and started flicking through the shirts, making noises under his breath that he couldn’t decipher. Most of them seemed confused, but there were a few scoffs of disbelief in there, too.

 Maybe Johnny should go into his closet and do the same thing, see how the little twerp liked it.

 “Here, wear this one,” Miguel finally said, pulling a baby blue shirt out of the back of Johnny’s closet, so old he’d forgotten it was even there. “It’ll bring out your eyes.”

 “What am I, a girl?” Johnny asked, taking the hanger anyway.

 Miguel chuckled. “No, but you’re in looooooooove,” he drew the word out, dodging the shirt that Johnny threw at him, trotting down the hallway back to the living room.

 “Get out of my house, Diaz,” Johnny called after him, the boy’s laughter as good a response as he was going to get.

 ***

 “Dad, I made you some tea,” Sam gently set the cup on the edge of the coffee table, catching Daniel’s eyes on her way back up. “Chamomile.”

 He smiled at his daughter and took the cup. “That’s so nice, sweetie, you didn’t have to do that,” he said, taking a shallow sip of the still-too-hot tea.

 “I did,” she laughed. “You’ve been staring into space for like…half an hour. Figured you needed something to calm you down.”

 “Calm me down?” he asked. “I am calm!”

 She raised her eyebrows. “Sure, and your leg is tapping like that because…?”

 He looked down at his jumping leg and put a hand over it. “Habit,” he said with a shrug.

 “Dad,” she took the tea cup from his hands and sat on the edge of the coffee table. “Sensei Lawrence is coming here. For a date.”

 He laughed nervously. “It’s not a –”

 “I can literally hear all of your phone conversations,” she interrupted with a stern look that reminded him so much of himself. “You’re allowed to be nervous.”

 “Did I tell you that I invited Miguel, too?” he asked.

 “No!” she jumped up from her spot. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 “I forgot!”

 “I’m going on a double date with my dad and his arch nemesis,” she buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe this.” She snatched his cup of tea off the table. “I need this more than you do now,” she said firmly, taking a long drink before stalking off, shutting her bedroom door solidly behind her.

 Daniel understood how she felt. Was it good to be nervous? Was that a bad sign? He couldn’t figure it out, and the longer he sat there, thinking about it, the closer the clock inched toward 7. He thought about Johnny, leaning on him on the surfboard in the middle of the night, head cradled by his arm. He thought about Robby, excited about the possibility of living with his father after sixteen years without him.

 He thought about Johnny under the stream of the shower, chest rising and falling under his hand, eyes clouded, deep in thought.

 They’d almost kissed twice – why was he nervous about the idea of a date?

 “Dad, I’m hungry,” Anthony whined, his voice shocking Daniel violently out of his thoughts.

 “I’m cooking dinner,” Daniel called out, knowing that his son was going to grab some junk food out of the pantry anyway and stalk back up to his room. Amanda was the one who was better at curbing Anthony’s impulsive choices – Amanda, who was in Malibu visiting her parents to tell them about their divorce.

 “Sensei Lawrence is coming to dinner, right?” Anthony asked from behind him, his mouth full. Daniel struggled not to roll his eyes. Trust his son to be predictable.

 “Yes, he is,” he answered, turning in his seat to see his son completely. “Be nice.”

 “I’m always nice.”

 “I seem to remember you telling Johnny that I would kill him,” Daniel recounted. Anthony grinned.

 “That was me being nice,” he said, rummaging in the bag of cheese puffs. “It was a warning.”

 “Be nicer, please,” Daniel pleaded, but he was almost smiling.

 Anthony shrugged. “I’m just trying to protect you, Dad. What if he takes your heart and karate chops it into little pieces?”

 Daniel squinted at him, suspicious. “Quit watching CW shows on Netflix.”

 “Tell Sam to stop watching Riverdale,” Anthony said, still unbothered.

 “Leave the cheese puffs in the kitchen, please,” he called, but Anthony was already halfway up the stairs, the cheese puffs still clutched in his fist.

 ***

 “If you’re worried about the first kiss, why don’t you just get it over with?” Miguel asked, safely buckled into the front seat of Johnny’s Challenger, flipping through Johnny’s tapes. “Do it first thing.”

 “I didn’t – I didn’t say I was,” Johnny stammered, hands white on the steering wheel. “You said I was.”

 Miguel shrugged. “You’re easy to read, Sensei.”

 “Shut up, no I’m not.”

 Miguel didn’t look up from the tapes, his finger tapping on top of Guns ‘n’ Roses. “Then why is your face red?”

 “Are you going to play music or are we going to talk about our girly feelings for the whole drive?”

 Miguel pulled free the tape and turned up the volume, leaving Johnny to marinate in his thoughts. As much as he wished he didn’t, Miguel had a point. Would he be able to sit through an entire dinner while he overthought everything that would come after? Would he be able to make the same mistake he made with Ali?

 He was still thinking about it when they pulled up to Daniel’s house and turned off the car. Miguel led the way to the front door, but Johnny could see the lights sparkling on the terrace, near the pool. The table was set and ready for them, the lighting dark and romantic. It seemed almost too pristine for something that was supposed to include him.

 Miguel looked back at him, almost on the doorstep.

 “You alright?” he asked, and Johnny so clearly saw himself, a teenager again, standing on Ali’s doorstep, nervously waiting to be scrutinized by her rich parents, all the while knowing they thought he was more like them than he could ever be. Yet here was Miguel, standing bravely on the doorstep, in a red flannel shirt and jeans, asking if the grown man was okay.

 “I’m fine, Diaz,” he choked out, and Miguel raised his eyebrows at him like he didn’t really believe it and rang the doorbell.

 Sam answered the door, in a yellow dress that Miguel immediately complimented, slipping an arm around her shoulders for a sneaky hug that he managed to get away with before Daniel appeared beside her, sleeves rolled up toward his elbows, a smile already on his face.

 He stepped aside to let Miguel through, offering him a hand to shake that Miguel took easily, and damn, when did that kid get so comfortable in his own skin? Johnny envied him – he wished he didn’t feel like such a kid when Daniel was around.

 “Johnny?” He pulled himself out of his thoughts to find Daniel looking at him curiously, the light of his home behind him illuminating him around the edges. Johnny felt curiously like he was looking at a painting from a museum he’d never think to go into. “Are you coming inside?”

 Why don’t you just get it over with?

 He reached out for Daniel, pleased when the man offered his hand without question, and yanked him out the front door and onto the porch.

 “What the hell –”

 He stumbled farther than Johnny imagined he would, and he caught him against his chest, one hand steadying Daniel around the waist. When Daniel looked up at him, confused and indignant, Johnny slipped his other hand around the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss that no one had enough time to interrupt because if someone interrupted him a third time, he was going to have to throw all of their children and surrogate children into the pool.

 Daniel made a confused sound against his lips, but his hands were clenched tightly in the fabric of Johnny’s shirt, pliant in his arms. Johnny pulled away long enough to see Miguel walking by, who gave him a wide-eyed thumbs up as he eased the front door closed. He rolled his eyes and let Daniel pull him in for another kiss, this one breathless and desperate and not at all like a first kiss.

 He had to force himself to pull away because he was maddeningly aware that the longer they were gone, the more likely it was that they would be interrupted. Daniel was grinning when he pulled back, all teeth and Jersey pomp, his eyes still closed, and Johnny wished he had done this thirty years ago instead of knocking the kid into the sand. They could have had thirty more years.

 “Does that mean you’re coming inside?” Daniel asked, his voice so soft it didn’t even sound like him, and Johnny tilted his head back to plant a kiss on his throat, backing him up so he was against the wall, the mostly closed front door on his left, the light from the kitchen barely illuminating them, the sound of their children a delicate soundtrack.

 “In a minute,” Johnny said, lips still on Daniel’s neck, and Daniel exhaled a shaky breath, dropping one of his hands to Johnny’s forearm, like he needed to be stabilized.

 “Take your time,” Daniel replied, head tilted back to the wall, eyes closed. Johnny pulled back for a moment to take him in, still perfect hair, slightly darker lips, face arranged in an expression he never thought he’d get to see, dazed and happy.

 He pulled him back in, taking great care to run his fingers through Daniel’s hair, feeling rather than seeing the mess of it he was making, Daniel groaning against his lips, thoroughly distracted. Johnny could get used to this – kissing the man to distraction. He made a brief mental note to thank Diaz for the idea later.

And then Daniel was turning him around so he was pressed to the brick instead and all thoughts of Miguel went out of the window.

 ***

 “Where did my dad go?” Sam asked, her eyes searching the empty kitchen. “He never leaves the kitchen while he’s cooking.”

 Miguel watched her eyes go to the slightly open front door and linger. He could see the wheels turning there. After a moment’s awkward silence, she gasped.

 “No way.”

 “Maybe don’t go out there looking for him,” Miguel said with a laugh, slipping his arm around her shoulders while he could.

 “Oh my god,” he thought she was angry for a moment, and then he looked down at her, and they both started giggling. “Thank God that finally happened.”

“Thank God what finally happened?” Robby asked, offering a fist for Miguel to bump.

 “My dad and your dad are totally making out outside,” Sam said, loud enough that Anthony, sitting in front of the television, turned around to join the conversation.

 “Ugh, Sam, too much information,” Robby groaned, but he grinned anyway. “So which one of us wins the bet?”

 “Bet?” Miguel asked, looking between them.

 “Well, I bet that they would avoid their feelings forever,” Sam said, counting them off on her fingers, “Robby bet that they were already hooking up, which, gross,” Robby shrugged. “And Anthony bet –”

 “I bet they’d do some dramatic confessing after dinner,” Anthony grumbled. “So none of us win.”

 “If I’m the one who told Sensei Lawrence to do…” Miguel faltered, trying to find the right word, “what he’s doing…does that mean I win?”

 Sam gaped at him, eyes wide. “Wh – what? What did you do?”

 He shrugged. “I gave him some advice. You know, strike first or whatever,” Miguel laughed.

 “He doesn’t win!” Anthony whined. “He didn’t bet!”

 “Didn’t bet what?”

 All four kids went still, frozen like they’d been doing something far worse than having a conversation. Miguel was the first one of them to turn around, trying to keep the smile off his face. Johnny’s barely concealed smirk told him he wasn’t being as sneaky as he thought he was.

 “Nothing, Sensei,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 “Are you kids gambling?” Daniel asked, his voice teasing.

 “If I say yes will you fix your hair, please?” Sam asked, hiding a laugh behind her hand.

 “What’s wrong with my hair?” Daniel asked, a hand already rising to smooth it back down.

 “Nothing,” Johnny said hurriedly, biting back a grin. “Nothing, it’s fine.”

 “It looks like sex hair,” Anthony half-shouted from his place on the couch.

 The room went silent. Johnny looked over to Daniel, who looked momentarily horrified before he just closed his eyes and started laughing. The rest of the room looked at each other, Johnny trying to hide a self-satisfied smirk before Daniel shoved him, playful and embarrassed, and everyone else started laughing.

 ***

 Dinner started out surprisingly successful – Daniel had always expected this dinner to be awkward, with Miguel and Robby at the same table, himself and Johnny watching their kids stumble through conversation, Anthony being antagonistic, as only he could be.

 But Miguel and Robby were fine, chatting amiably while Sam sat between them, happy and at ease. Anthony had his own comments to make, but Johnny handled him nicely, and even he had to admit that he was amused by Johnny’s newest nemesis. When he realized he was losing whatever conversational battle he and Johnny were currently entangled in, he switched to his usual home run shot:

 “My dad could kill you,” he said, but it didn’t have the venom it usually did, when he was saying it to people who might actually believe him.

 Johnny rolled his eyes. “Your dad is too much of a good guy to actually kill me.”

 Anthony shook his head. “He could still do it. He was a Cobra Kai once.”

 “Anthony!” Sam admonished from across the table. Daniel felt his limbs go numb.

 “No he wasn’t,” Johnny laughed, his eyes sliding from Daniel’s son to Daniel himself. Daniel, who felt the blood drain from his face the longer Johnny looked at him. Johnny stared, mouth slightly open. “You weren’t. Right?”

 “Maybe we should go –” Sam was halfway out of her chair already.

 “No, Sam, it’s fine,” Daniel reassured her. “It’s – it wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t join Cobra Kai, I trained for a little bit with one of Cobra Kai’s…senseis.”

 “So you joined Cobra Kai,” Johnny finished. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 “Cobra Kai wasn’t around at the time,” Daniel pointed out. “The guy told me he was Kreese’s sensei, that Kreese was dead, all of that nonsense, and I needed someone to train with for the ’85 All Valley, so –”

 “What about –”

 “Mr. Miyagi didn’t want me to compete. But I was…” he struggled to find the right word.

 “Blackmailed,” Sam supplied helpfully. “He was blackmailed into competing. Some guy threatened to beat him within an inch of his life every day if he didn’t.”

 “And I needed a trainer,” Daniel finished with a heavy sigh, his eyes on the table.

“You didn’t tell me you were blackmailed,” Anthony piped up indignantly from the other end of the table.

 “Anthony only thinks Dad joined Cobra Kai because he found the gi in a box one day,” Sam added, eyes on Johnny. “Dad doesn’t…” she looked over at her dad, and then back to him. “Dad doesn’t like to talk about it.”

 Johnny nodded, tightening his jaw. Daniel could see him trying to decide what to do, how to move forward with their kids watching.

 “Then we won’t talk about it,” he said firmly, turning back to his food. He caught Daniel’s gaze and gave him a wan smile. Daniel didn’t know what to make of it.

 He still wasn’t sure what to make of it when dinner was done, and Sam met him at the counter with dishes, muttering that she was going to take Robby, Miguel, and Anthony to Golf ‘n’ Stuff for a little while, knowing that she was trying to give him the privacy to talk to Johnny without any interruptions. He thought about telling her not to; he didn’t want to tell the story, definitely didn’t want to see Johnny’s reaction. Having the kids as a buffer might be good.

 “If you really like him, you’re going to have to tell him eventually,” she said when he didn’t answer, clasping his arm for a moment before ushering everyone outside and into her car.

 He didn’t have to listen hard to hear Johnny’s careful approach. He didn’t have to look to know what he was doing – leaning against the counter, hands in his pockets, eyes on his feet.

 “We still don’t have to talk about it,” he said, and Daniel felt a surge of affection for him that almost knocked him off balance.

 “But you want to know,” Daniel said wearily, grabbing a kitchen towel to dry his hands, turning around to see Johnny completely. He could still see the wrinkles in his shirt where his hands had been clenched earlier.

 “Of course I do, LaRusso,” Johnny said. “But I’m not going to force you to tell me.”

 Daniel shrugged. “You already know most of it. Kreese told Terry Silver to make me bleed, to make me suffer for ruining Cobra Kai. And then Kreese appeared, back from the dead, and,” he shrugged, trying to fight the urge to turn away from Johnny’s horrified gaze, “tried to kill me. Typical Kreese.”

 “He made you bleed.” It wasn’t a question.

 Daniel held out his hands, knuckles marred with thin scars from the wood. “He succeeded.”

 Johnny took his hands in his own, eyes on the scars. Daniel could feel him shaking with anger. He looked up to his face, tight and stern, the very image of a terrifying fighter. “I know where he lives,” he said, his eyes rising to find Daniel’s. “Kreese.”

 “John, don’t,” Daniel pulled his hands back. “It’s not worth it.”

 Johnny scoffed, pushing himself off from the counter, where he was still leaning, to cage Daniel in with his arms. “It is worth it,” he insisted. “He shouldn’t have blamed you because we left.”

 Daniel shrugged, and Johnny made a disapproving noise.

 “That’s why you hated Cobra Kai so much when I brought it back,” Johnny said thoughtfully. He paused, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I don’t blame you.” He brought one hand up to gently trace the line of Daniel’s jaw. “You didn’t need Terry Silver,” he said. “You’ve always been a great fighter.”

 Daniel stared at him, trying to think of something to say, coming up empty.

 “Terry and Kreese might have made you bleed, but they couldn’t really break you,” he continued, surveying Daniel’s face while still managing to avoid eye contact. “You’re too stubborn for that.”

 Daniel managed a weak laugh, the sound of which relaxed the tense lines of Johnny’s face. “Jersey tough,” he said quietly, and Johnny finally met his gaze, blue eyes full of something Daniel couldn’t really identify. It was painfully soft, overwhelming to look at for too long.

 “Yeah you are,” Johnny said softly.

 He pulled him in for a kiss instead of saying something else, frustrated with his son for making tonight too serious, wishing fervently that he could go back to the front step, before they had to discuss their pasts, before Johnny had to fluster him with pretty words.

 Johnny lifted him, like he weighed nothing, onto the counter, and dropped his hands to Daniel’s thighs, clearly deciding that he was going to kiss all of his seriousness away. Daniel let him, content to be pulled along by the sensation of his hands, of his lips. But this was unhurried, unlike their time outside the front door, exploratory, a different kind of intoxicating.

 Johnny pulled back, just far enough that Daniel became aware that he was taller than him this way, blue eyes gazing up at him, sparkling in the light.

 And then he sighed, almost like he was exasperated, even while he still looked at him with a fond smile, and pulled him back to his mouth.

 “I love you,” he said against Daniel’s lips, so quiet that Daniel could almost pretend he hadn’t said it at all.

 But he clutched him tighter, holding onto him fiercely, just in case he was thinking of backing away, of hiding. He could feel Johnny laugh against his mouth, the laugh almost a sob, and kissed him deeper, communicating what he was always too afraid to say.

 “I love you too.”

[linyi-is-dreaming]

The Drop Of A Tear - 09

BTS V x Y/N (Reader)

Summary: Tae meets a woman who is very manipulative. Before he even notices anything, she got him around her finger. He decides to leave his wife Y/N and his four kids to start a new life with the new woman. This perfect house of cards that he had just started to build, starts to unfold as she starts to show her true face. Piece by piece it makes him feel sick. Tae notices his wrong doing as his house of cards starts to fall apart. Regret and hate towards himself makes him wish to turn things around. Will he be able to safe his house of cards and to get back what he once threw away?

CHAPTER 09

“Okay, I think I got it all cleaned.”, Jungkook states satisfied as he wipes the last shelf in his apartment clean. “Note to myself, never let the apartment look like this again! Tomorrow I will start to make a plan for a cleaning schedule...” He stops to speak as soon as the doorbell interrupts his thoughts. Nervously, he checks the time on his phone. In the moment in which he hears the doorbell once again, he starts to walk towards the front door. “I’m coming! Just a second.” Just to be sure that the person he is waiting for is standing outside, he looks through the door viewer. The first thing his friend sees when Jungkook opens the door, is the stressed facial expression by him which is getting replaced rather quickly with a smirk.

“I already wondered if you got lost. Did you not say you would come by earlier?” 

“It is not so easy to get out of the house on time once you become a father.”  

“I can’t see your daughter. Did you forget her in the car?”  

“It does not mean, that my child is with me necessarily.”  

“So, you could not find the building?” The way Jin looks at Jungkook says it all. He would like to ask Jin why he seems to be so stressed but as he can see himself, it might be better to push any sign of sarcasm to the side.

“I might not have been here often, but I still remember how to get to your apartment.”

“I am just joking.”, Jungkook smiles as he opens his front door wider. As he looks at the floor, he notices the water that seems to come from Jin’s jacket. “Is it raining outside? You are soaking wet.”, Jungkook wonders as he looks up and down Jin’s clothes.

“No, it did not rain.”, Jin answers sarcastically. “I thought I’d jump in a lake before I come here.”

“Sorry.”, Jungkook laughs. “Come in. I will give you some clothes that you can borrow.”  

“Thanks.”, Jin says as he enters Jungkook’s apartment. “I hope you started to prepare your apartment to be kids ready.”

“Tsk. Do not worry! I got it all under control.”, he tells him as he walks into his living room. “I mean, take a look around.” Jin does not need to be told twice. Slowly, he checks the living room before he turns back Jungkook.

“Wow! You cleaned this place very well. It has been a while since I saw your apartment this clean.”, Jin says as he continues to check dinner room. “That must have taken you at least two hours...”

“My home has always been clean.”, Jungkook says defensively as he watches Jin walking into the kitchen. “Now, it is just a little more clean than usual.” Jin nods as he walks back to into the living area.

“Yeah, well… Usually it is single-man-apartment clean but not so extra clean.”

“I know I should feel hurt by your comment, but I am not feeling like that at all.”

“Good.”, Jin states as he hands him the bags that he had placed next to the couch. “Anyway, I brought the beds for the kids which you asked me for. You will really need them if they stay at your place as you said.”

“I already wondered what you have got in those bags...”

“It is really kind from you to let her stay. I just hope you know what you are getting yourself into.”, Jin warns calmly. He watches Jungkook’s facial expression very carefully. The fear that Jungkook may have not understand what he is about to get himself into, stays in the back of his mind lately. Jin knows that Jungkook is capable of taking care of them, but he also hopes that he is mentally prepared. He does not man only the feelings he has for Y/N, but what it means to be the man in the household. The words of his daughter is going through his mind as he watches Jungkook leaving the room.

“Namjoon got me kind of into it... He probably told you about it already.”, Jungkook says loudly as he gets the spare clothes for Jin from his bedroom. Irritated by Jungkook’s words, Jin looks at Jungkook as he places his hands in his wet jacket. “I confronted Namjoon about it, but he also says that it is better that she stays with her kids at my place. I do not mind having them around.”

“Namjoon? I am not talking about Namjoon, Jungkook. I am talking about a specific kid that I heard some news from.”, Jin clarifies as he takes the spare clothes from Jungkook. “Thanks.”

“One of Y/N’s kids? What kind of news?”

“Yes, one of hers. Why did you feel the need to ask who I am talking about?”

“How was I supposed to know who you were talking about?”

“Anyway, you noticed that her kids were on your mind first, right?”

“I really try to understand what you are trying to say, but I can’t understand what you are trying to tell me.”

“Well, let’s try it differently. Y/N’s princess called my daughter and told her how amazing it would be to have you under the same roof as when you were there for Y/N. She is totally in love with the idea and she keeps talking about it.”

“I am her favorite uncle, am I or am I not?”, he winks jokingly. Jin sighs deeply as he changes the clothes. “Something wrong?” Even though he might not say a word, Jungkook notices that it must be something serious. “Come on. Just say it.”

“Take a seat.” Jin suggests as he takes a deep breath. “Listen carefully. Listen and take it to heart, okay?” Jungkook nods as he sits down comfortably. “This little girl sees you more than an uncle. She is talking about you as she used to talk about Tae. You noticed that, right?”

“What are you talking about? Okay, maybe I am her favorite uncle but still-” Jungkook stops himself as he sees that Jin is shaking his head.

“I am trying to tell you that she told my daughter that if she could pick a new father or a new man in her mother’s life, it would be you.” Jungkook’s eyes move immediately into Jin’s direction as the words fell from his lips. “Jungkook, she sees you as a father, not as an uncle. Therefore, I am warning you, be careful with your actions.”  

“You must have misheard something...”, Jungkook tells him as he shakes his head.  

“No, I did not. I am hundred percent sure about this. Jungkook, you know how close her daughter is with my daughter. They tell each other everything and yesterday I knew that she moves in with you before you even called me.”

“But those are only words.”, Jungkook says as he starts to imagine to be a father figure for them. Of course, he would not mind being like a father to them but to be a father like an actual father figure? Even though he loves them with all of his heart, could he even be a good fit to replace a father? If he could, would he be able to be a father to them, he wonders. He sighs as he wipes his palms over his face. Jin watches how Jungkook is obviously struggling with himself. “I could never be their father. I am not father material, let’s face it.”

“You have been in Tae’s shoes since he started to treat her like shit. The kids are smart, they noticed it. They may have even heard more than you think.”  

“What about Tae though?”, he worries. “If Tae hears a slightest thing about it, you know what is going to happen. This mess right now, would only be the beginning.”  

“That is a worry for another day. Let’s keep it as our secret for now.”, Jin suggests as he sees the worries on Jungkook’s face. “It will only be a secret for a while and afterwards, it will not even matter.”  

“For how long? For how long shall we keep him in the dark?”  

“Definitely until after the divorce.” Jungkook’s eyes become bigger as Jin’s words go through his head. “You’re okay?”  

“After the divorce? You know that Tae still has not signed the final paper, right? The final paper has not been signed by anybody yet.”  

“I thought Tae signed the paper...I thought that only Y/N did not.”  

“Y/N did not sign the divorce paper written by his lawyer yet, as she needs approval from my lawyer that there is nothing negatively for her in the paper. The mentioned single-parent-custody that Tae’s lawyer mentioned, is nothing Y/N would put her name on.”, he explains slowly. “The lawyer I found, is already writing a new one. I should receive it soon. If I am lucky, it should arrive today.”  

“Your lawyer will find a great solution for her and her kids, I am sure. I will inform the others personally about keeping it down. Who knows about it already?”  

“Jimin and Namjoon.”  

“Nobody else?”  

“Not as I am aware of.” Jin takes out his phone to take some notes. “Okay, I guess I will be busy today.”  

“Me too. I have to pick them up and let them settle in. I hope the kids will be okay by sharing one room.”  

“Settle in?”  

“Is it not what you call it?”

“I will not answer that question... Will you need help? If you need help, I am sure that I can help.”

“No, we can get everything their need in two cars. The rest will be picked up later on.”

“Okay.”, Jin says as he nods. “Call me if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Jin.”, Jungkook says as Jin packs his wet clothes into one of the empty bags.

“Just a little idea of mine, maybe you should ask Yoongi and Namjoon for help as well. You will be much faster if you would consider more helping hands.”

“I thought about Hoseok at first. But now then you mentioned only Yoongi and Namjoon...”

“Well, it cannot hurt to ask all three of them.”

“What if Tae is suddenly there?”

“Do you think he will drive to her house?”

“He has not shown up lately. It would be a surprise if he would not appear soon.”

“Namjoon is working on a song by the way.”

“What does his songwriting to do with this situation?”

“Maybe, you could tell Namjoon to be ready, just in case he shows up.”

“Uh, you mean that he calls him into the studio?”

“You finally got it!”, Jin praises as he pats Jungkook’s shoulder. “Okay, I got to go. Call me if you need two more hands.”

“Thanks!”, Jungkook says as he accompanies him out the door.

💧💧💧

“Everybody ready?”, Y/N asks as her kids place their last bag on the floor within the soon to be former living room. “Are you dressing up your brother again?”, Y/N asks as she watches how carefully her younger daughter picks out clothes for her baby brother. As her daughter looks up at her with this angelic smile, warmth is filling up her heart. The eye contact maybe lasted only five seconds, but Y/N notices that when her daughter looks away that her daughter's smile seems to drop off of her face immediately. Worriedly, she walks to her daughter to comfort her. “Something wrong, lovely?” Slowly, her daughter gets up with the little jacket of her brother in her hands as she gets up to stand in front her mother.

“Mom, can I ask you a question?” Her voice was so quiet, but still so tender. The insecurity is clear to hear within her voice. Not knowing what to expect, Y/N pulls her arm around her shoulder to pull her into an open hug.

“Of course, you can.” The question from her daughter does not come as fast as she expected. The long breath that leaves her daughter’s lips, makes her even more worried if something might have happened that she is unaware of. Questions are starting to fill her head. Did she miss something? Did she not notice anything that she should have had? Are the kids getting worried? As she sees her daughter opening her mouth, she tries her best to push all the worries and thought to the side. Too strong are the doubts that her daughter is doing alright with this situation. Y/N knows that she is the one child that misses her father the most. Since she had her first phone, she used to text her father poems, jokes or whatever was on her mind whenever she felt like it. This girl depends so much on her father that it hurts to see her fight with her older sister about their father. The atmosphere in the house is usually comfortable until one of her kids start to ask for the father. The change in the atmosphere is immediately to feel, which is why she is hoping that her child will not ask anything about their father.

“Why do we have to move again?” Instantly, she feels relaxed. Relaxed that she did not ask about Tae, but her question is not much easier. Moving for the third time within a year, how do you explain it to a kid? To a kid that is sensitive and still does not understand what happened between her mother and her father.  A girl who still waits for her daddy to come home for dinner. A girl who still does not want to believe her big sister that their parents are going to be living separated. Y/N thought a few times about an answer, in case one of her kids would ask her a question regarding moving out. As she looks at her kids’ faces, she can see that her son seems to be waiting for an answer as well. Her older daughter on the other hand keeps staring at her little brother just the way she did the day before with her stuffed animal. Y/N takes a long breath before she looks at her daughter’s face.

“See, the thing is that this has nothing to do with you. Once you are older, I will tell you all about it but until then, I will not be able to give you any answer.”, she explains. “I hope it is okay for you that we live with uncle Jungkook for a while though.” Disappointed by the answer, her daughter sits down once more in front of her baby brother. “Do you not want to go to uncle Jungkook’s home?”

“It is okay mom...”, her daughter mumbles as she picks another jacket for her brother. “Sis, I like this one more.”

“Are you ignoring me?”, Y/N wonders as she walks closer to her daughter. But before she is even able to speak with her again, her son interrupts her.

“Will you be locking yourself in a room again?”, her son asks sadly. Her eyes immediately find his as she hears the worries and sadness within his voice. “The last time you did that, I wanted to come into your room but uncle Jungkook meant you needed to sleep... Will it be like that again? I am scared that I will not see you outside your room again.” Disappointed in herself for her former behavior, she sighs as she sits down next to her daughters on the floor.

“I am so sorry for what happened a few months ago. I wish things would have not been this way... But no, it will not be the same again. I promise you that.”, she promises as she notices that her son seems not to believe her words. The doubts are clearly all over his face. Y/N watches her son getting up to walk towards her. “Are you finally deciding to sit with us on the floor?” Her son says nothing as he hugs her tight.  

“If you promise it will not be like that again, I am okay with it. I want everything to be alright again.”

“Thank you, my sweet boy. I am trying my best to get everything back to normal, but it is not so easy.” Just as Y/N puts her arms around the torso of her son, her phone starts to ring. “Wait a minute. Mommy has to check her phone.” Her son nods as he puts his arms off Y/N.  

“Do you think we should let him wear the blue jacket or the yellow one?”, her younger daughter asks her son. Y/N smiles to herself with a tear in her eyes before she looks away from her kids to pick up the phone. On the inside she hoped to read one name. One name only, but it turns out to be the name that she did not want to read.

“What could he want?”, she asks herself as she reads the caller’s name. Tae. She clears her throat quickly before she picks up. “Hello? You want to pick them up today? I know you want to see your kids, but today is a bad day. You are almost here?” She can feel how the sweat is starting to escape her body as she turns around to see the kids within all the moving boxes. “Tae, I am sorry but can we arrange something within the next few days...?” As Tae keeps asking the ‘why’-question, she takes a few steps away from her kids. “Why do I need to mention a reason? Tae, please. I will text you later or you text me later in case I forget and we will arrange something. I am not trying to keep the kids away from you! Listen, the kids talked about this new amusement park, maybe that would be nice. You could spend a day with them there. I am glad you like the idea. Uh huh. Bye.” As soon as she hangs up the phone, she leans against the table as she takes a few long breaths.

“Mom, are you okay?”, her oldest daughter asks. “Was it him? What did he want?”

“It was your dad, yes. He wants to see you four.”, Y/N explains slowly.  

“You mentioned the amusement park. Why do we have to go there with him? I wanted to go there with you.”

“Sweetheart, I needed to say something to keep him away from us today. You understand that dad should not know to where we move to, right?”

“Yes, I do. I just do not think it is fair that I have to spend time with him...”

“Please do not start to pout.”, Y/N says as she hugs her kid. “You are my smart girl, aren’t you?” Just as she kisses the top of her child’s head, the doorbell rings. Curious, if Tae is already here even though she asked him not to come, she looks towards the window next to the door. “I bet you already know who it is.”, she comments with a wink as she notices the faces. Before she can even tell her daughter to open the door, she can see the other kids running to the door.

“Uncle Jungkook! Uncle Hoseok!”, her son screams joyfully.  

“What a greeting! Hello everyone!”, Jungkook says as he waves at them.

“Hello!”, Hoseok greets as he steps inside. “I heard this household is moving, is that true?” Her son nods joyfully. Hoseok smiles as he gives the kids a group hug before he turns to Y/N. “Okay. So Y/N, here is the plan. You and the kids stay here and we will drive your stuff to Jungkook's apartment until we are done.”

“If you plan to transport our stuff like that, be careful! Tae called me. He meant he is near the house.”, Y/N warns.

“I planned that already too. I will call Namjoon asap though. He meant he has some lyrics which could fit his voice. I will be right back.”, Hoseok tells her as he pets the boy’s head.

“Are you alright?”, Jungkook wonders as he sees her pale face. “Have you even eaten anything today? Your face is so pale.”

“I did not find the time to eat yet.”, Y/N confesses. Jungkook nods as he takes out four chocolate bars.

“Here is one for you and who else wants a chocolate bar?”, Jungkook questions the kids as he hands a chocolate bar to Y/N.

“Thank you.”, she says as she watches her kids coming together to get their chocolate bar from Jungkook.

“Thank you, Jungkook.”, her oldest child says as she takes the last piece. “Those are my favorites!”

“How could I guess that you would love the strawberry-chocolate-bar, huh?”, he jokes as he takes the sweet soft cookies from his bag. “You did not think that I will forget about you, did you?” Jungkook’s voice sounds very childlike as he sits down in front of the toddler. “Does the champ want a cookie?”, Jungkook asks as he holds it in front of the kid. As he starts to kick his feet, Jungkook decides to give the cookie to the little boy. Y/N could not help herself but to stare at Jungkook’s interaction with her little one. Tae never paid that much attention to him in comparison with Jungkook. It hurts Y/N to know that Tae never bonded with him just like he did with the other kids. As she watches her kids eat, she takes a seat to take a bite from her chocolate bar.

“Dada!”, her little one says loudly.

“I told you, I am not Dada. I am Jungkook. Can you say that? Ju-ng-ko-ok. Jungkook.”

“Dada!” Just as Jungkook wanted to try again, Y/N places her hand on Jungkook’s forearm as she sits down next to him.

“I am so sorry, but I think he will need longer until he understands not to say this word to you no more.”, she apologizes. Jungkook’s eyes immediately fell on her hands. Without thinking twice, he takes her hand in his. “What are you doing?”, she stutters as she looks into his eyes. The sweat that starts to build on Jungkook’s back, makes him worried if he is starting to blush.  

“I wanted to give you the cookie bag, but I guess I forgot the bag...”, he lies as he removes his hands from her to give her the bag.

“Uncle Jungkook?”, her older son calls. “Do you want to play soccer with me as long as we have to wait?”

“Sure. But we should keep it down this time, okay?” Quickly, her son opens a box to take the black and white ball out.  

“I will win anyway!”, her son yells as he storms outside with the ball in his hand.

“Wait! I want to play too.”, her younger daughter yells as she runs behind him.

“Princess? Do you want to play with us too?”, Jungkook wonders as he sees her looking after the others.  

“No. I want to listen to music.” Jungkook nods before he runs to the other kids outside.

“Alright. Tae is handled, now we have to bring everything to the car... Where is Jungkook?”, Hoseok wonders as he sees only Y/N with two of her kids.

“He decided to play soccer.”

“Do not tell me that he leaves all the work to me again.”

“Don’t worry. I will take some boxes too. Sweetheart will enjoy her music whilst she keeps an eye on her baby brother, right?” The only answer Y/N gets is a thumbs up. “With which box do you want to start with?”

💧💧💧

It was for the first time in a while that her kids seem so tired from a car ride. It was not a long ride but the food from the drive thru seems to make them even more tired. With her toddler in her arms, she follows Jungkook to his apartment. She is very thankful that they do not even need to carry their suitcases at the moment as they already brought it to his place. “Welcome everybody into my home!”, Jungkook says proudly as he opens the door to his apartment. “I hope you will feel comfortable.”

“Uncle Jungkook, did your apartment get bigger?”, Y/N’s younger daughter asks. “I cannot remember that it was this big...”

“No, don’t worry. It did not become bigger.”

“Where will I sleep?”

“Come with me and I show you the bedrooms.”, Jungkook says as he takes her by the hand to lead them to the bedrooms. Curiously, the kids follow Jungkook into the first room. “As there is not so much space, you three will share this one room and your baby brother will stay in the room next to you.”

“Thank you for your effort, Jungkook.”, Y/N says as she checks out the children room. “It looks very nice.” As the three kids are discussing which bed should belong to who, Y/N walks into the toddler’s room. Jungkook smiles to himself confidently as he sees that the kids seem to like the room. Jungkook’s eyes follow Y/N until she disappeared into the other room. “Look, you even got a stuffed animal. Do you see what it is noted on the scarf? C-H-A-M-P. Do you know what it means? That means champ.”, she explains to him as she places a kiss on his cheek. “Let’s see if your siblings decided on their beds.”, she comments as she tickles him.

“I guess he likes it.”, Jungkook adds as he hears the giggle of the little boy. Surprised by his voice, she turns around to face him.

“I am sorry. I thought you were still in the other room.”

“I just explained them the rules of my apartment and now I am here.”, he smiles as the little one shows that he wants to be hold by Jungkook. “Do you want to come to me?”, Jungkook asks as he steps closer to him. “Your laughter is so adorable.”  

“Wait, I am going to put him on the ground.”, she says. As soon as his feet touch the ground, he makes his way to the stuffed animal.

“You want it? Here you go, my friend.”, Jungkook comments as he placed the toddler on its bed.

“You bought him another stuffed animal?”, she wonders as she discovers another one behind the penguin.

“I thought it might make it easier for him to sleep in this room alone.”  

“Look, you have a penguin in your bed. Yes, a penguin.”, she repeats as she puts the stuffed animal closer to her kid’s hands.  

“And over here we also have another stuffed animal. Do you know what that is? It is a bear.” The little boy grabs both stuffed animals as he gets off the bed to sit on the ground.

“Do you hear how loud he giggles? He likes it.”, Y/N says cheerfully.

“What a relieve. I thought he might not like them.” Y/N smiles as she notices how the eyes of her son seems to fall shut. “Is he about to fall sleep?” Without even asking, Jungkook takes the blanket to put it over the lying child.

“We should leave him alone to sleep.”, Y/N announces as she walks towards the door. “Good night my little bear.”, she says as she closes the door until only a gap remains. As they walk pass the other room, Y/N peeks into their room. “They are about to fall asleep too.”, she says as she can hear them talk quietly.

“You think he is going to sleep in his room alone right away?”

“Well, for now he will.”

“Do you want a tea or anything?”

“Not really, but thanks.”

“Sounds like a ‘yes’ to me though.”  

“What?”

“The way you said ‘not really’, it tells me that you are unsure if you should or not.”

“How did you know?”

“If anyone would pay attention to how you say things, then anybody would understand what you were really trying to say.”, he explains as he prepares the tea.

“Am I this easy to read?”  

“It takes some time to read into your words.” Y/N’s eyes look at the floor before she looks towards the bedrooms. “Hard to believe that they wanted to go straight to bed...”

“Yeah, that surprised me too.”, she admits as Jungkook places the cups of tea in front of her on the coffee table.

“I still do not know if you like the fruity or the herbal ones more...”

“Herbal tea. I only buy the fruit teas for the kids.”

“Well, then I will drink the children’s drink.”, Jungkook jokes as he takes the cup in his hand.

“You decorated those two rooms very well. Thank you for the effort.”

“Nothing to thank for.” Just as Jungkook takes a sip from his drink, Y/N’s youngest child starts to cry. “Somebody is awake.”

“I will be right back.”, she says as she gets up from the couch. Jungkook looks in her direction for a moment before he walks into his bedroom to get some documents for Y/N. He places them next to the tea cups on the coffee table. “My little bear is already asleep again.”, Y/N announces as she walks back into the living room with the toddler in her arms.

“Is he?”, Jungkook asks as he checks on him. “He is. That was quick.”

“The other kids are already asleep as well.”, she says as she points to the room in which the kids are sleeping in. “I guess a drive thru food is more than enough for them.”

“Well, sometimes food is all it takes to knock some kids out.” Y/N smiles as she looks up at Jungkook.

“Thank you for organizing the help. I am glad that Yoongi and Jin were also able to help us even though we did not tell them that we might need them.”

“Sure thing. Uhm, do you not want to lie him down?”

“I do not want to wake up the other kids.”

“They will not even realize that you are walking past their room.”

“I can hold him.”

“All night?”

“They are sleeping so peacefully.”

“Shall I put him in his bed whilst you make sure that there is not too much light shining into their room?” Y/N nods as she surrenders the little boy to him. “Come here my little champ.” Too distracted from the paper on the coffee table which says her name, she stops in her tracks to read a little from the first two pages. It did not take long until she knows what they are. The divorce papers which Jungkook’s lawyer seem to have prepared.

[snowdice]

You I’ll Come Back For (Part 3)[Dice Roll 5]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton/Virgil, Logan/Deceit/Roman (more background)

Characters:

Main: Patton, Virgil

Appear: Roman, Logan, Deceit, Remus

Summary: They’d met in a jail cell, you see, but unlike now Patton had not been anywhere near trapped, not that Virgil had been aware of that fact. He’d just seen his sweet little cell mate who’d clearly not done anything to deserve being on that side of the bars. Virgil had said “What did you do to get stuck in this joint?” and Patton had started crying. It had taken zero lies and five hours for Patton to coax out the information he’d needed. He’d thought when he’d pranced up to the bars and told Roman he was ready to leave that the absolutely astonished expression which was quickly slipping into fury would be the last thing he’d ever see of the man whose crimes numbered enough to keep him in prison for the rest of his life.

He’d escaped during his transfer to federal prison.

Universe: Cops and Criminals AU

Genre: Crime

Notes: Murder mentioned, gun mentioned.

This is part of my Roll the Dice Event which is where I do random ships, universe, and genres for the Sanders Sides fandom. For more details see this post. I posted a few days ago my results from this dice roll here.

Part 1  Part 2

It had been about a month since the kiss that very much, very definitely should absolutely not have happened, and god was Patton having a hard time not thinking about it.

It was quite the moral dilemma wasn’t it? Virgil was a convicted felon on the run from the law and Patton was a police officer trying to catch him. Yet, he’d forgotten that in the moment. He’d forgotten what type of person Virgil was and everything he’d done. It made Patton feel guilty. He could barely even meet his boss, Logan’s eyes.

And yet, he couldn’t help but think about the man’s lips on his or how gentle his hand had been in Patton’s hair. The low tone of his voice when he’d uttered the words “you I am coming back for,” haunted his dreams and definitely not the nightmare kind.

However, right now was not the time to be thinking about dark, dangerous eyes that softened inexplicably on Patton or the contrast of the feeling of warm lips on his to the cool handcuffs on his wrists. He was at work, mostly alone at the moment since everyone was either out getting lunch or on their way to go get lunch. Patton was supposed to be filling out a report, not daydreaming. He frowned at it. He really didn’t like paperwork.

He looked up from the paperwork, happy to completely forget its existence, when a man marched into the office as if he owned the place. He was wearing a business suit with a yellow tie and had a scar across half his face. He also looked like he not only could kill a man, but was planning on doing so forthwith.

“Um, excuse me sir,” Patton said in his most sweetly placating voice. “Can I help you.”

“No.”

“Uh, I’m sorry sir, but this is a police station,” Patton said, keeping a smile on his face. “If you-”

“Dee!” Roman’s jovial voice said. He all but bolted across the office with his arms open as though to hug the grumpy man. ‘Dee’ put up a hand to stop him.

“This is not a social call. Where is Berry?”

Roman blinked. “We’re using last names today?” he asked. “Must be serious.”

“Roman,” the man warned.

“Chill,” Roman instructed and that was not the tone Patton would have used to attempt to calm the irritated man, but Dee didn’t immediately snap Roman’s neck so that was good, “we just went out for lunch and he went to park the car. He’ll be right behind me. Everything okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No.”

Roman put a hand on his shoulder, but then his thumb wandered, tracing softly across his collarbone. Patton raised an eyebrow. “Can I help?” he asked in a soothing tone.

The man batted his hand away. “Don’t do that.”

Roman’s frown almost edged on a pout. “Why not?”

“Because you are about to be so mad at me,” Dee spat.

Roman’s brow crinkled. “Why would I ever be mad at you, dear?” he asked fluttering his eyelashes.

“Stop it,” Dee complained, his face softening just a bit despite the harshness to his words, “stop that. If you actually want to be useful, find Patton Heart and have him wait outside of Logan’s office for us.”

“Um, I’m Patton actually,” Patton interjected with a little wave.

His eyes flicked up and down Patton. “Of course, you are.”

It was then that Logan entered the room, stripping off his coat as he went. He paused when he saw Dee with a slight frown. “Dee, what are you doing here?” Logan asked.

“I need to speak with you. In your office. Now.”

Logan bristled and crossed his arms. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“Yeah, well you’re not going to appreciate what I have to say either,” Dee replied and then swept past him.

Logan gave Roman a questioning look. Roman just shrugged and Logan turned on his heels to follow Dee into his office with clipped footsteps.

“Um Roman,” Patton said when the door snapped shut behind them, “Who was that?”

“That was Dee,” Roman said, staring at the door in confusion. They could see the two men talking through the window in the door but couldn’t hear them. “He’s our husband.”

“He’s your other husband?” Patton asked. He knew of course about the illusive third man who was always out of town or busy, but the way they’d always talked about him made him seem… not that. “He seems…” Patton said.

“He’s not usually that grumpy,” Roman said and then paused in thought. “Okay, maybe he sort of is, but he has to spend most of time with my brother so it’s understandable. He’s definitely usually not that short with Logan or I though, so I don’t know what’s going on.”

It was then that the voices behind the door picked up a bit. First it was Logan’s voice, still just a bit too low to hear anything but the angry tone. Then…

“If you think that just because we’re married, I have to tell you everything I do at work, you are sorely mistaken!” Dee screamed.

“No! But you do have to tell me if it impacts my life!”

“Well dinner tonight’s gonna be fun…” Roman mumbled under his breath.

They continued to argue for a few more minutes; Patton and Roman could hear just bits of screaming every so often but nothing to give them a clue about what on Earth was going on.

Eventually Dee strutted out of the office, still clearly fuming, Logan hot on his heels. He didn’t even spare them a glance as he walked down the hallway.

Logan pressed his lips together, staring at his back with narrowed eyes before saying, “you two come too,” and taking off after him. Patton shared a glance with Roman before they followed after them.

They walked down the hall to some meeting room Patton had never been in before. Both Roman and Patton got to the open door at the same time and looked in. Dee was standing calmly with his arms crossed, leaning against the far wall and Logan was glaring at him from a few feet away. Yet neither of them is what took either Patton or Roman’s attention. No, their attention was taken by the man standing by the window. He wore a dark black hoody and his hair was slightly mussed probably from him wearing the hood. His hands were stuck casually in the hoody pocket and he gave Patton an awkward half smile.

“Hey,” Virgil said. Roman was immediately reaching for his gun. “Calm down Romano, I work for your husband.”

Roman rounded on Dee immediately. “He what?!”

“Yeah, yeah I know I’m sleeping on the couch,” Dee grumbled.

“On the porch more like,” Logan hissed.

“…Yep.”

“Thanks Dee,” Virgil said without looking at him.

“What can I say?” he grumbled, glancing at Logan, “I’m a romantic.” Logan responded with an even more intense glare in his direction.

Patton looked at Virgil and tapped his lips with a curious head tilt. Virgil immediately shook his head fervently. Patton nodded.

“And what exactly was that?” Logan asked suspiciously looking between them.

“Nothing,” they both said together.

Dee scoffed rolled his eyes. “He’s an undercover cop,” Dee told Patton. “Have fun with whatever that is. I’m going to go find a good divorce attorney.” He pushed off the wall he was leaning against and strode out of the room.

“Oh, you’re not getting out of this that easily,” Logan called after him. He turned back to Patton. “I am aware of Dee’s career so I can confirm this information.”

“You’re a cop?” Patton asked Virgil.

“I am,” he said.

“You’re not a murderer or torturer or drug dealer or anything else you were convicted for.”

“Nope,” he replied. “It was all a cover.”

“Well,” he laughed. “I’m not as bad of a judge of character as I thought then.”

“Again,” Logan said suspiciously, “what exactly are you talking about?”

“Come on, Lo,” Roman said. “Let’s make sure our husband knows he doesn’t actually need an attorney.” Logan mumbled something about ‘Last Will and Testament’ under his breath, but Roman just rolled his eyes and pulled him from the room.

Patton looked back at Virgil. “So, this is what you meant about coming back for me?” he asked.

“Yeah it is.”

“Oh,” he replied, biting his lips. He thought for a moment and then laughed. “Goodness, I got in your way a lot, didn’t I?”

“You were an actual thorn in my side,” Virgil confirmed with a chuckle.

“Sorry.”

“Eh don’t be. It’s just ‘cause you’re a good cop.”

“And you’re a good undercover cop,” Patton complimented rolling up onto his toes with his hands clasped behind his back. “It never even crossed my mind.”

He blushed and goodness that was adorable. Who knew he was adorable? “Yeah except for, you know, all of the arrests.”

“There were a lot of arrests,” Patton laughed.

“So. Many. Arrests,” Virgil replied. They smiled at each other. “Anyway.” He shuffled a bit awkwardly. “Your boss is busy either murdering or having makeup sex with my boss. So… do you want to get out of here?”

Patton grinned. “Sure,” he replied. Virgil offered his arm and Patton took it.

Thanks for reading!

If you were intrigued by the dynamic of Roman, Deceit, and Logan, I do have a fic set in this universe about how Roman met both Deceit and Logan called  Mistaken Identities.

[witchofthemidlands]

Sleep Deprived Posts

Sinister AU Headcanons

So I don’t particularly like the guy due to his dumbassary & complete disregard for his family’s saftey, but as I’ve been lying on the floor & staring up at the ceiling, I’ve been thinking about how Sinister 2 would’ve turned out if Oswalt had lived.

Warning: I’ve been awake for nearly forty eight hours this is the product of that insanity. I think way too much about 2 absolutely terrifying horror films.

I mean. Let’s imagine Oswalt didn’t drink the poison & either caught on to what his daughter was doing & broke the camera or something like that. Bughuul burnt her like he did Zack or took her regardless & the house got set on fire.

First off his wife would’ve divorced his dumbass. That’s a given, sure she loved him dearly because she never followed through with the ultimatum she gave him legit ten minutes into the film. Yet after losing a child in a ‘house fire’ all that equals in the final straw.

She leaves him & takes Trevor with her.

It’s Oswalt so he wallows & drinks the days away for awhile until a ray of sunshine appears in the form of his Deputy So & So.

I say ray of sunshine, but he’s probably forced into it because of legal issues that came with Oswalt’s house burning down.

They back each other up & the whole incident is chalked up to be a tragic accident.

Deputy So & So is still fired because of the whole ‘giving Oswalt case information’ issue.

It’s a shaky start between the two, but Oswalt flat out tells him everything (fucking finally) & whilst the Deputy is a little spooked he’s also kinda like ‘well this may as well just happen’ & goes along with it.

There’s a part of the Deputy that is a little disturbed by the whole ‘Oswalt watched all those murder tapes alone for days/weeks? (I don’t know how long time lasted in that film for) yet he likes Oswalt & tries to look past that.

Both come to the conclusion that what happened to all those poor families cannot happen again & that seeing as they seem to be the only two guys in the know, they figure it’s up to them to defeat Bughuul.

They start the PI business together.

It’s the perfect job for Oswalt. He has no intention of returning to writing true crime, but he probably would contemplate writing about his & the Deputy’s experiences because is it technically true crime writing if it’s a supernatural deity involved.

Their apartment/office looks like a crime scene with all their Bughuul evidence plastered everywhere.

Neither are particularly tidy people so it just kinda looks like a bomb site.

Deputy So & So & Oswalt take it in turns when it comes to burning down the Bughuul houses.

Oswalt enjoys it more than he should, because it’s like saying a big ‘fuck you’ to Bughuul.

They’re the literal bane of Bughuul’s existence & Bughuul visits them when it’s feeling particularly pissed off by their attempted Bughuulbusting antics.

More often than not, Bughuul’s visits are at night when Deputy is asleep in bed & Oswalt is dozing in a couch/chair. (you can’t tell me that bitch wouldn’t sleep in a chair & be perfectly content with it, he’s a writer)

Oswalt: ‘can you punch a ghost’

Deputy So & So: ‘hmm I don’t know, I don’t think I’d recommend it though.’

Even after being in the Bughuulbusting business together for a while, Deputy So & So always calls him ‘Mr. Oswalt.’ & Oswalt always calls him Deputy So & So

Somehow their friendship works.

When they finally meet Courtney it’s even more of a disaster than canon.

It’s the Deputy’s turn to set the building on fire & of course he stops dead in his tracks when he sees Courtney’s son. Oswalt recommends starting the fire & running for it.

Neither know what to do when Courtney starts screaming at them for something they’re pretty sure they haven’t not done, even if they were about to burn her supposed to be empty house down.

Oswalt wants to start the fire anyway & envisions throwing Deputy into said fire when he asks Courtney for coffee.

Oswalt just despairing at Deputy So & So when it comes to Courtney in general. Giving him the biggest eyes rolls known to man & god.

Going into the haunted church together.

Courtney & The Deputy being annoyingly adorable & Oswalt being like ‘the gasoline is in the car it would be so easy...’

Oswalt’s in his element in the church. ‘Can you imagine a book revolving around...’

Deputy So & So: (here we go again) plz don’t write about the crime scenes we visit. I don’t want to find the tapes of the murder that happened here in our office one day.

Ellison ‘I killed a scorpion’ Oswalt is down to kill whatever insect that’s under that mental dish.

They try to guess what’s underneath it first because Deputy ‘snakes don’t have feet’ So & So is like that.

Rats have feet.

Bughuul & squad do their thing & Ellison ‘can I punch an ancient deity’ Oswalt flips his shit after seeing the ghost kids & is running around the church after like ‘Come at me bitch i will kick your ass. I’ll kick anyone’s ass’

Despite not being that fond of Courtney, Oswalt kinda bonds with her what with him being a parent himself.

They talk about how he let his wife have full custody of Trevor & how he’s certain it was for the best & Oswalt is always asking her if they’re told her anything weird.

With the knowledge that the kids get fucked over by Bughuul being a thing with Oswalt being there, their only question is how does Bughuul get to them, which makes Oswalt immediately suspicious of both Zack & Dylan.

Deputy So & So: No, I don’t think it’s wise to interrogate a couple of kids.

Oswalt is immediately convinced that it’s Dylan who’s gonna team up with Bughuul when he talks about the ‘nightmares’.

However, Oswalt wants to fight Courtney’s ex. When Deputy is giving that extremely badass speech to the officers that show up, he’s basically being held back from beating the shit outta that arsehole.

He gets his chance to get a punch in later when that piece of shit tries to kill his Deputy So & So. (Bughuul has rights for killing that son of a bitch)

Dinner with Courtney & her boys would be interesting because Courtney & Deputy So & So are making eyes at each other when they think no ones looking & Oswalt is just like ‘seriously, right in front of my salad?’

When Deputy agrees to stay the night, he gets the mother of all eye rolls from Oswalt & ‘What happened to your ‘I wouldn’t sleep one night in this place, are you nuts’ attitude.

Deputy So & So (with an all big wide innocent eyed look): they don’t feel safe. This is kinda our job, right?

Oswalt: This is going to end badly.

Oswalt wishing he was back living in his haunted murder house again when he’s woken up by the sound of a very drunk Deputy & Courtney doing their thing in the kitchen.

Not saying a word to each other on the drive to the professor. There’s a few sarcastic remarks from Oswalt & a whole ass roasting of the Deputy’s flirt game that makes him want to yeet himself into Bughuul’s realm.

Oswalt takes the nearest heavy object he can find & destroys that ham radio the second it starts repeating their words back to them in the office. (I stand by my theory that that other professor went missing to & that’s how Bughuul got the radio back because he didn’t destroy it in time)

It kinda fucks with Oswalt when he inevitably finds out that the kids watch the tapes. Like his daughter must have watched the tapes & that’s why the projector kept going off & Trevor’s night terrors were either because he walked in on her watching the tapes or the ghost squad was scaring the shit out of him. He probably gives his son a call & feels even more guilty than before (like he should)

Patching each other up after attacks & when that arsehole beats up the Deputy.

Sure, he’s the ultimate disaster human & The Deputy is normally the one keeping him in line, but being the older of the two (he looks the older of the two I wouldn’t know he just gives an older dude vibe) Oswalt does try to look out for the Deputy, not that he cares that much, but he wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.

They get on Bughuul’s last nerve & are a pain in it’s ass.

They look out for each other & it’s the most unconventional but at the same time strangely awesome bromance ever.

At the end of the day though, Deputy So & So & Ellison Oswalt are on Bughuul’s shitlist.

[jemej3m]

radio silence (chapter 5: andrew with aaron’s people)

two days left goodness gracious 

chapter 4 

uhh no warnings!!! just soft goodness wow

*

Their apartment was spacious and well furnished, but nothing had made it feel more like a home than having Neil live with him.

It’d only been a month or so after Neil’s permanent arrival when they were officially married. The whole ordeal was a little strange. They dressed nice enough for perhaps a press conference, Andrew wearing a black turtleneck sweater he knew Neil loved, and his nicest leather shoes. He’d dressed Neil, because of course he had: he looked trim and proper in a navy button down, but the elegance was ruined by the sappy look on his face.

“Makes me feel a little spontaneous.” Neil admitted, climbing out of the Maserati in a parking garage nearby the courthouse. “Like we’re running away to California together.”

Andrew had to roll his eyes at that: if they were running away, it’d be in the opposite trajectory to California. Neil knew this and smiled a little wider, linking their fingers together.

“Let’s get those tax benefits, yeah?” He nudged their shoulders together. Andrew shoved his hand into the back pocket of Neil’s slacks: his husband-to-be just laughed.

Andrew never thought he’d be married. He’d known that he would stay by Neil for as long as the man would let him, was willing to admit that Neil was his partner, like Aaron was his brother, and Nicky was his cousin. Marriage itself was a construct that he loathed to abide by, but Neil wasn’t exactly wrong. It was the most efficient method of ensuring that he would be allowed to stay by Neil’s side when he inevitably got himself bowled over and sent to the ER, that he could assign Neil as the benefactor for his life insurance and assets, that Neil had his back as much as he had Neil’s.

Plus, Andrew hated the term partner. It was so invariably vague. Boyfriend was too small, soulmate was too romanticised, but husband fit nicely. It was loyalty and security and home, and that was Neil in a nutshell.

Neil brushed a kiss to Andrew’s knuckles before letting go as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, keeping a practised distance as they walked down the street. They waited in line for ten minutes to be filtered through to the officiant. That was where Aaron was, always early. Matt had yet to arrive, predictably late.

You look nice, Aaron said, with a mildly disapproving tone. But a turtleneck? To your own wedding?

Andrew shrugged. Neil gets horny for this sweater.

Aaron made a scathing noise, startling Neil out of his quietude. You’re tactless. Andrew merely snorted.

“Not all of us are privy to your twin talk,” Neil said, wryly. “Aaron only looks like that when you talk about me. What did you say?”

Aaron stood up and crossed his arms, stalking to the other side of the room in an obvious attempt to disengage from the conversation. Andrew lowered his voice and leaned across the small sofa to brush his lips over the shell of Neil’s ear. “He was criticising my choice of shirt. I told him it doesn’t matter when it’s just going to end up on our floor.”

Neil grinned, fingers twitching over the bicep muscle above his elbow crease. “Well, it is our wedding night. Did we have any other plans?”

That was when Matt bustled in, prompting the start of the ceremony. Andrew held Neil’s fingers loosely, ignoring his brother’s calculative gaze and Matt’s over-emotional sniffles as the officiant read out the vows. They’d stuck with the stock-brand, seeing as the officiant wouldn’t appreciate Neil’s tasteless now you can hate me forever, and Andrew’s scathing if you ever tell me ‘thank you, you were amazing’ again, I’m getting a divorce in response.

They didn’t kiss. Neil did, however, brush his finger under Andrew’s eye and smiled his perfect smile.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

Andrew nodded.

*

The day after was undoubtedly the most chaotic day of Andrew’s life. Neil wasn’t usually the type to get into a tizzy, but the thought of revealing the fact he and Andrew had just gotten married to his family made him all kinds of anxious. He spent the day cooking five variants of shit that was just food to Andrew, berating Aaron from where he was lounging on the couch and letting Matt pet his hair because he was too distracted by Kevin blowing up his phone.

Katelyn’s getting here early, Aaron said. Andrew just grunted in response, laying down on the perpendicular sect of his L-shaped couch. Their heads were close together, Aaron’s eyes already closed despite it only being two in the afternoon.

Congratulations on your marriage, Aaron muttered wearily. Don’t think this means you can wriggle out of a best man speech at mine.

I fucking hate you, Andrew allowed, closing his eyes and settling in next to his twin. He cracked his eye open once, when Neil bustled in from the kitchen only to freeze at the sight of the two of them, napping on the couch. He flipped his husband off and ignored the grin, closing his eyes once more.

He wondered what his life would’ve been like if he and Aaron had been together in the system, or with Tilda. If it hadn’t taken until the age of thirteen for them to figure out that the other was real.

Aaron pondered over Andrew’s thoughts. I think it’s worked out well enough, in the end.

Yes, Andrew allowed. It has.

Katelyn arrived with a smile and a basket of goodies, none of which were patriotic themed. She definitely knew, then, winking at Andrew and slipping into the kitchen to deliver her gifts. Aaron stayed on the couch, waiting till she came back to brush her hand over his cheek to open his eyes. It was too strange to watch something he and Neil did often from the outside, sitting up from the couch and stalking outside onto the balcony.

The sun was slowly crawling towards the horizon, the summer heat shimmering against Andrew’s skin. Their apartment was south-east facing, meaning the sunset was usually visible if you leant on the railing and looked to the right. Andrew kept his gaze on the horizon, ignoring the lurch of ingrained fear in his stomach with practised ease.

The balcony doors opened quietly. It wasn’t Neil, careful as he was, nor was it Aaron, and Matt had no reason to come out here. Andrew ignored the spike of curiosity as Katelyn appeared at his side, holding a cup of herbal tea.

“I heard the ceremony was efficient.” She said, lightly. “I don’t know why Aaron expected anything else. He does know you, after all that time in each other’s heads.”

Andrew decided to entertain her obvious attempt at conversation. Years ago he’d probably put a knife to her throat, but he’d promised Aaron not to hurt her. If that meant giving Katelyn an inch, he’d allow it. “When did he tell you?”

“When you were in rehab,” she admitted. “He was lost in his mind for hours at a time. I knew something was up.” She smiled lightly, taking a sip of her tea. “For what it’s worth, I wanted to thank you. For being there for him. For going along with Neil and I’s therapy ploy.”

“It was a pathetic attempt at best,” Andrew grumbled, sipping his beer. Katelyn merely laughed.

After a little while of quiet (which wasn’t as uncomfortable as he’d assumed it would be), Andrew sighed.

“Thank you for being there for him in ways I can’t,” he allowed, a peace-offering.

Katelyn smiled brilliantly. “You’re a good brother.” After draining her tea, she winked at him. “You’ll be a good uncle, too.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered.

“We were thinking about making you and Neil the godfathers,” Katelyn mused. “Perhaps Neil would appreciate the joke.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Nicky would throw a fit if you didn’t bestow him a title better than ‘first cousin, once removed’.”

Katelyn laughed. “That’s what we thought, too.” She leaned back off the railing and made to move inside. “Congratulations on getting married, Andrew. I’ll be sure to make Aaron send you the ultrasounds.”

He made a dismissive noise, looking back out to the horizon as he heard his family clamour around inside his apartment, the din slowly growing louder till he was sure that all his Foxes had arrived.

The next time the balcony door slid open, it was Neil. He tucked his fingers into the pocket of his jeans, bringing out the silver wedding bands they’d purchased just an hour before the wedding. When Neil slid Andrew’s ring onto his finger, it fit snugly, the metal already warmed from its brief touches to Neil’s skin.

He wove their fingers together and Andrew allowed an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to the cheek.

“Hurry up, junkie,” Andrew muttered, wilfully forcing his cheeks to un-blush. “Your family is waiting.”

“Our family,” Neil reminded him. Stiffly, Andrew nodded, looking away from the pleased crinkle to his husband’s eyes.

He’d get used to it. One day at a time.

*

[silver-lily-louise]

What We Deserve – a Shadowhunters fanfic

Summary: ‘I’m afraid that one day, I’ll make one too many mistakes and you’ll realise that you deserve better. That you deserve someone who doesn’t leave you waiting for the next big fuck-up.’ Alec knows that he loves Magnus, but he isn’t so sure that he deserves Magnus. Thankfully, that doesn’t seem to be the popular opinion. Word count: ~3.3k Warnings: A bout of arguing, a bit of swearing, some strategic drinking, and a whole lotta feelings.

~oOo~

It was a stupid argument – if you could even call it that – and Alec knew it the moment he stormed out of the loft. But pacing around his office, waiting for his nine o’clock, he’s still too angry to care. Was it too much to ask – after the week from hell, dealing with condescending Clave officials – that when he left something on the side, it stayed there? By the time Magnus had found him upending the contents of his bedside table, he was running ten minutes late and was starting to realise that the smart move would have been to give up. But he was irritated, and stubborn, and it was the principle of the matter by that point.

And then Magnus had snapped his fingers, and the watch had appeared around Alec’s wrist. ‘I saw it on the side and put it in the jewellery box for safekeeping,’ he’d explained. But for some reason, Alec had just found himself more aggravated. ‘Alright, fine – next time I leave something out, don’t put it somewhere I can’t find it, okay? Not all of us can just wave our hands and summon whatever we want.’ Magnus had frowned at his tone, but spoken calmly. ‘You could have asked me earlier. I was just trying to help.’ ‘Well, you didn’t,’ Alec had snapped, using his last bit of common sense to leave before he could say something he’d regret.

By lunchtime, he’s starting to suspect that he overreacted. A couple of hours later, he’s starting to suspect that he’s the absolute worst husband ever. Magnus was only trying to help, his conscience scolds. He didn’t hide it on purpose, and he got it for you as soon as you asked.

He groans, letting his head fall to the desk. ‘One of those days, huh?’ He looks up to see Izzy in his doorway, her expression halfway between amused and concerned. ‘Yeah, you could say that.’ ‘Just came to drop this off,’ she says, laying a report on his desk. Instead of leaving, though, she settles into the chair opposite him. ‘Wanna talk about it?’ 

On an ordinary day, Alec would reassure her it was nothing and send her on her way. He’d resolve to apologise to Magnus, and get on with his work. But he really has had an awful week, and his regret piling on top of that has left him feeling low, maudlin. He sighs. ‘I yelled at Magnus this morning over something stupid, and now I’m feeling like an absolute tool.’ Izzy rolls her eyes, but still manages to look sympathetic. Alec wonders if that’s a talent that all younger siblings have, or if it’s just her and Max that can pull it off. ‘So go apologise,’ she says. ‘And stop looking so mopey – he’s over five hundred years old and he’s got the perspective to match it. He’s not gonna divorce you because you had a bad day and lost your temper.’ Alec laughs, but it comes out slightly bitter. ‘Yeah, you’re right. One day he’s gonna realise he deserves better, but it’s probably not today.’ Izzy doesn’t laugh. Actually, she looks a little worried. ‘Do you really think that? Alec-‘ ‘It’s fine,’ he says, waving her away. ‘I’m kidding. Go on, get out of here.’ ‘Okay,’ she says, reluctantly letting the matter drop. She leaves, pausing briefly at the door. ‘We’re pretty much done for the day. Go see your husband.’

Yeah, Alec thinks as she disappears around the corner. That’s probably a good idea.

***

When he gets home, Magnus is sprawled on the couch with a heavily worn leather-bound tome open on his lap. His eyes flick up to Alec, his expression staying carefully neutral. ‘Hi,’ he says, before his gaze immediately returns to the book.

‘Hey.’ As if Alec wasn’t feeling bad enough. This isn’t Magnus giving him a well-deserved cold shoulder – he’s just leaving Alec some space, in case he’s still pissed. Even though Alec had no right to be pissed in the first place. Alec remembers when apologising used to be difficult, when he had a tough time swallowing his pride. Now, he can barely cross the room fast enough, hating the situation and wanting to fix it without another moment’s delay. He plants himself in the couch space at Magnus’ feet, gently laying a hand on his shin. ‘Listen,’ he says, and Magnus’ eyes meet his again. ‘I’m sorry. About this morning. I was a jerk, and I shouldn’t have let the stress get the better of me – especially when you were only trying to help.’ Magnus’ face softens. ‘I forgive you.’ He leans forward, lightly squeezing Alec’s hand.

A moment later, he lights up in sudden excitement. ‘Ah! I have something to show you,’ he says, springing to his feet. ‘I found it whilst rearranging my grimoires today. Come on.’ He pulls Alec up from the couch, and Alec lets himself be led into the apothecary – half listening to Magnus, and half wondering how many times he can possibly get away with this.

***

Magnus has only just lifted his hand to knock when Simon opens the door. ‘Hi!’ ‘…Simon,’ he greets, raising an eyebrow. Simon grins. ‘Heard the portal,’ he explains. ‘I’m not the only one who can create portals,’ Magnus points out, as Simon closes the door behind him. ‘You might have been blithely opening the door to someone much less friendly.’ ‘You’re really overestimating the number of warlocks I know.’ He has a point, of course. ‘I’ll go get the books.’ He disappears from the room to fetch the books Magnus loaned him – historical texts on the rivalries between werewolves and vampires. He’d borrowed them in an attempt to better understand his ‘new cultural heritage’, as he put it.

Magnus’ phone buzzes, and he smiles when he looks down to see a message from Alexander.

Made a reservation for 8pm at Pagoda. See you there x

‘Everything okay?’ Simon asks, reappearing with his arms full of Magnus’ books, barely able to see over the top of them. Magnus waves a hand, banishing the texts back to his apothecary table. He would reshelve them too, but that’s a bit of a nightmare to do remotely, so he’ll wait until he gets home. ‘Never better. Alexander and I are having dinner at Pagoda tonight.’ ‘I thought he didn’t like that place?’ Simon’s right – Alexander has always found establishments like Pagoda ‘stuffy and intimidating’, to use his own words. Magnus puts on a long-suffering sigh. ‘Yes, well, I told him to pick somewhere we both liked, but you know Shadowhunters. So stubborn.’ ‘Pretty sure that might just be a Lightwood thing,’ Simon jokes. ‘Still, that’s nice of him. I told Izzy that that whole thing about him not deserving you was bullshit.’

Magnus frowns. ‘What?’ Simon’s eyes go wide, and if he were still human, he’d probably have turned scarlet by now. ‘Oh- I mean- because you guys worked things out, I assumed he’d told you...’ ‘Told me what?’ Magnus is starting to dislike the sound of this. Isabelle’s generally so supportive; why would she say something like that to Alec?

Simon sighs, apparently realising he’s painted himself into a conversational corner. ‘Okay. But you didn’t get this from me, alright? I don’t wanna end up as target practice.’ He waits for Magnus to nod before he continues. ‘Okay – the other day, Izzy said that you guys had some sort of… argument? And she was kind of worried, because Alec seemed really down about it. She said that he thinks he isn’t good enough for you, and he reckons that one day you’re going to… realise that. Which Izzy and I both think is crazy,’ he adds hurriedly. ‘I mean, it’s you guys, you’re kinda perfect together.’

Yes, but to his surprise, Magnus is apparently the only one of them who’s noticed that. Well, he thinks grimly. At least his instincts are still top-notch. Turns out he doesn’t like this at all.

***

When Magnus meets his husband outside Pagoda, he’s entranced for a good few seconds, just standing there and blinking. The blue of Alec’s linen jacket gives the illusion of gold in his hazel eyes, and the softness of the hue is matched in his heather-gray pants. His dress shoes shine under the streetlights, his crisp white shirt is just unbuttoned enough that Magnus can see the entirety of his deflect rune, and his hair has the fluffed look of being freshly washed and blow-dried. Magnus can only stand and stare, because he’s bowled over by the heart-stuttering feeling of seeing his Alexander – not the soldier he first met, or the warrior that now leads the New York Institute, but the beautiful, kind man underneath that Magnus fell in love with. The only person Magnus has ever vowed to love forever.

Alec’s mouth quirks in amusement, a slight flush coming to his cheeks at the attention. ‘Magnus,’ he says gently. Magnus shakes himself. ‘Okay, I’m back,’ he teases. He closes the distance between them, reaching up to pull Alec into a brief kiss – pleased to find that his hair is just as soft as it looks. ‘You look wonderful, darling.’ He doesn’t often call Alexander that, but seeing him like this, it slips out as easy as breathing. Alec, for his part, glows shyly at the compliment. ‘Thanks. So do you.’ He offers his arm. ‘Shall we?’ Magnus smiles, unable to contain his delight. Back when they started dating, he found Alec’s stumbling, slightly awkward ways when it came to romance exceedingly charming, and wondered if he’d miss them when Alec inevitably became more comfortable with this part of life. What a foolish thought, he muses. How could he have forgotten just how attractive confidence is on someone like his Alexander? He takes his arm, and together they enter the restaurant.

The moment they do, Magnus feels Alec tense almost imperceptibly – and he can’t have that, so he devises a plan. Firstly, he lets Alec give the reservation, because although he knows his husband lacks some confidence in the etiquette department – an unfounded fear, but growing up fairly sheltered in Clave Institutes will do that to a person – Magnus wants to show Alec that he trusts him to handle this. ‘Lightwood-Bane for eight o’clock?’ Alec says, and they’re shown to a table in the middle of the restaurant. From there, they’d have a view out of the windows on two sides, and it’s perfect in terms of comfortable lighting – bright enough to avoid eye strain, but dim enough to set the proper mood. But those factors aren’t Magnus’ priorities tonight, and he places a hand on the maître d'’s upper arm to briefly steal their attention. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, putting on a slightly embarrassed expression, ‘but I’m afraid my back’s acting up a little. Perhaps we could take one of the booths over there instead?’ The maître d' smiles sympathetically, agreeing to his request without a second thought, and Magnus meets Alec’s questioning glance with a wink that says just trust me on this. Once they’re settled, Magnus can already see Alec relaxing. Their booth is at the corner of the restaurant, far from the door but providing Alec with a clear view of it as well as most of the other tables, solid walls on two sides of them. It’s the kind of position that his training will immediately recognise as easily defensible. Safe. Magnus had hoped it would help put his husband at ease, and from the descent of his shoulders and the small smile on his face, it seems to be working.

Finally, Magnus waves a hand, and a faintly shimmering wall – one that looks like no more than a heat mirage, even to those with the Sight – briefly flickers, before fading into complete invisibility. ‘Muffling glamour,’ Magnus explains. ‘Allows all sound in, but dampens that going out. After all, I wouldn’t want the whole restaurant eavesdropping later, when I tell you over dessert exactly how good that jacket looks on you.’ Alec ducks his head in embarrassment, but his smile widens, and satisfaction settles over Magnus’ thoughts. The real reason for the muffling glamour is that he knows a lot of Alec’s discomfort comes from the fear of being scrutinised, of not matching up to expectations – especially in environments he’s less familiar with. The glamour will provide them with a little privacy, spare them some of that scrutiny by making them less noticeable.

Alec seems to enjoy their second visit to Pagoda a lot more than their first, and thus, Magnus does too. He looks across the table at his Shadowhunter – this wonderful man, who was entirely willing to spend his evening uncomfortable and on alert, just so they could have dinner somewhere Magnus particularly enjoyed. My darling Alexander, he thinks, confused and a little saddened by what Simon told him earlier. How can you not see that I’m the luckiest man alive to call you mine?

***

The portal closes behind them, and Magnus turns to Alec with a smile. ‘Shall we have a nightcap to round off this lovely evening?’ ‘Why not? I’ll be back in a minute.’ Alec returns the smile, wandering towards the bedroom, and Magnus goes over to the drinks cabinet, trying to quell the flutter of anxiety in his gut. He’s realised that there’s no natural way to bring up what Simon told him, but perhaps alcohol will grease the wheels for a slightly heavier conversation than they’ve been enjoying thus far. Magnus carefully measures out the grenadine into each glass – Alec’s palate for cocktails has expanded exponentially in the time Magnus has known him, but his taste in drinks still runs quite sweet.

Drinks mixed, Magnus takes a seat on the couch facing the balcony, waving a hand to open the doors and let in some of the cool night air and gentle noise of the city. It really has been a lovely evening, and he almost hates to dampen the mood with a serious topic. But if there’s nothing going on, they can move past it quickly – and if there is, it’s in both their best interests to talk it through sooner rather than later.

Alec reappears, sans jacket and shoes, coming to join him on the couch. Magnus hands him one of the glasses – managing to only be momentarily distracted by the way Alec’s pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, baring his toned forearms. ‘There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,’ he begins, instantly aware that just that sentence has earned him Alec’s complete attention. ‘I spoke to Isabelle recently, and she mentioned something that… concerned me a little. Something you said.’ He makes a mental note to warn Isabelle about this conversation later – he doesn’t actually think that Simon would end up with any arrows sticking out of him, but an agreement is an agreement. ‘Something about you not deserving all this. That you don’t think you’re good enough for me.’

Alec’s face is stony, his movements stiff as he puts his glass down on the table in front of them. ‘I told her it was nothing to worry about,’ he says, and his mouth sets in a hard line. It’s abundantly clear he’d rather be talking about anything else, but Magnus has centuries of practice pushing past the signs that tell him to drop something. ‘She didn’t realise she was betraying your confidence,’ he reassures. There’s no sense getting Isabelle in any more trouble than necessary. ‘She assumed you’d mentioned this to me when we reconciled.’ Magnus leans forward, placing himself back in Alec’s eyeline. ‘Look – I’m not trying to catch you out, here. I’m not entitled to every thought in your head, only the ones you want to share with me. But if something’s troubling you, I want to help. I want you to know that you can talk to me about it.’

Alec’s still for a few moments; but then he sighs, sinking back into the couch, the fight visibly draining from him. Magnus decides to risk shuffling a little closer – supporting, but not crowding. ‘It’s fine, Magnus. It’s my issue, and it wouldn’t be fair of me to put it on you. Not out of some – some childish need for validation.’ Magnus suppresses an exasperated smile. So concerned about burdening me, and you still think you’re undeserving? ‘Well, take this as your official permission to stop worrying about that. If you want to tell me, I want to hear it.’

It’s a while before he gets an answer, but Magnus waits patiently. The right words aren’t always easy to find, after all. ‘I keep screwing up,’ Alec says finally, his voice low, confessional. ‘With you, with us. I can’t seem to stop it, and – I guess I’m worried that eventually, you’ll get sick of having to give me second chances.’ ‘Everybody makes mistakes, Alec. I don’t expect you to be perfect.’ ‘Yeah, but I’m not just talking about things like the other day,’ he protests. ‘I’m not just talking about having a short fuse, or arguing over house stuff. I mean the big stuff – like how we’re only together now because even after I yelled at you, you crashed my wedding to Lydia. Or how I screwed up with the Soul Sword thing.’

It takes Magnus a moment to respond, a little stunned. ‘Alec, all that’s in the past now. I thought we’d moved on from it.’ ‘Yeah, we did – because every time I messed up, you forgave me. And I hate that that’s our pattern.’ He looks away from Magnus again, dragging a hand down his face. ‘And I’m afraid that one day, I’ll make one too many mistakes and you’ll realise that you deserve better. That you deserve someone who doesn’t leave you waiting for the next big fuck-up.’

Alec swallows hard, and when Magnus impulsively pulls him into a hug he goes willingly, burying his face in Magnus’ shoulder even though he doesn’t return the embrace.

Magnus takes a few deep breaths before he dares speak again, knowing he has to get this right. ‘Alexander. How many times have you stood by me when I tried to shut you out? Even when it made things difficult for you?’ ‘It’s not the same-‘ ‘It is the same thing,’ he says, interrupting the muffled contradiction. ‘It’s exactly the same, in all the ways that matter. Because this – what we have – only works if we’re each willing to believe that the other is doing his best, and if we’re willing to forgive each other.’ He pulls back a little, cupping Alec’s face in his hands. ‘I know you. You’re a good person. Rarely have I met anyone so determined to make the world a better place, and certainly none so willing to learn and to change their own ways to do so. Alec, every mistake I’ve ever known you to make was because you were trying to do the right thing.’ He laughs softly. ‘Do you know how rare a quality that is?’

Alec doesn’t respond, but he looks less sorrowful now, which Magnus will take as progress. ‘I love you. I married you, Alexander, because you make me… indescribably happy. And no matter what happens – no matter how any of your future choices turn out – I trust you to follow your conscience.’ He presses a short, sweet kiss to his husband’s lips, smiling as he closes his eyes and rests their foreheads together. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Alec’s breaths are still a little shaky, but he loops his arms around Magnus’ waist. Message received.

***

Alec still can’t quite understand how he got so lucky. But at least that small, scared part of him is quieting now. Beginning to accept that he did.

~oOo~

[howrry]

once in a lifetime

a/n: sorry for the hiatus, i can’t find the strain i used earlier this year that led me to churn out a ton of writing so this was a little painstaking. here’s older!harry. bon appetit

warning: do i even gotta warn you that there’s smut? nc-17

w/c: 4.5k

***

Harry's life post-fame was, well, not so great.

His stardom, in his eyes, appeared to have no end. His friends and family had expressed concerns all throughout his career that he was peaking too early, but it seemed that life only got better. More music, meeting more of his idols, more new fans and more arenas sold out before his eyes.

Unfortunately, he noticed that as he got older, his body just wasn't accustomed to the touring, drugs, and partying like it was in his youth. He had a heart-to-heart with himself and realized that his best option was to retire, which he did in his late 30's.

He even got married, to an elementary school teacher named Grace. One of his friends had set him up with her on a blind date and he liked how predictable and simple she and her life were. She was such a nice change from the hecticness of his life before, and ended up engaged after only 9 months of dating (much to his fans' dismay).

But sadly, all that glitters is not gold. After less than three years of marriage, Harry and Grace seemed to be fighting more often than they got along. They argued over everything in the books; money, physical absence, their families, substance abuse, sex, the idea of having kids, the idea of not having kids, commitment, the list went on. Eventually it was clear that Harry was much more invested in the relationship than she, which devastated him. Regardless, he pushed on.

One night, when the air in his household was thicker than molasses, Harry went into the master bedroom of his home. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped his trousers. He climbed into bed where Grace was reading a novel. She didn't move, or look over, or even acknowledge that her husband had joined her.

"Grace?" he asked softly. Still no reaction.

He was scared. Sure, he and his wife fought plenty, but as of late, she barely spoke five words to him.

"Please," he begged, reaching out and delicately placing a hand on her forearm. "We don't have to do anything but please talk t'me. Something is clearly wrong. We haven't even spoken or had sex in w—"

"Is that all that matters to you? God, Harry, think with your other head for a change," Grace snapped, closing her book and yanking her arm away. She stood up out of bed and H heard her footsteps all the way downstairs. The telltale slam of the basement door indicated that she'd be sleeping in the guest room and he would be alone for the night. Again.

Harry's head dropped back down onto the pillow. He wasn't much of a confrontational person and hated these conflicts they had. Harry closed his eyes tight and hoped as hard as he could that the yelling and the ignoring and the disinterest would end.

And in some twisted way, he got his wish, because a week later, Grace slapped half-signed divorce papers in front of him on the breakfast table. She wouldn't entertain any sort of reconciliation; she just wanted to be separated.

The divorce was brutal. The soft, kind woman H had married just a couple years ago was gone and replaced with a cold, unloving person who wanted nothing to do with him.

As if the whole process in and of itself wasn't bad enough, Harry didn't realize that Grace would be getting the house until far too late into the separation. Her lawyer even patronized Harry-- you're an ex-rock star, I'm sure you can find a place to go. If it weren't for Liam providing him a place to stay in the meantime of finding a house, he really doesn't know what he would've done.

***

Harry knocked on Liam's door, hat in hand, and was greeted by his old friend who pulled him into a hug.

"It's been too long, mate," Liam noted, before guiding Harry into his home.

"Y/N, get down here!" Liam called, and seconds later she bounded down the stairs.

It had been ages since he'd seen Liam's daughter, Y/N. The last time he'd been around Li and his family, she'd been 14 and was in the moody teenage stage, but she was so different now. She was taller and her hair was longer, and she'd filled out quite nicely judging by how well her tennis skirt fit her--

Whoa, he caught himself. That's his friend's daughter. What was wrong with him?!

"Show Harry to the guest room," Liam told her, shaking H from his terrible thoughts. "Until then, I'll pour us some scotch and we can catch up," he said to Harry before heading off to the lounge.

Harry followed Y/N upstairs and down the hallway to the plain yet comfortable room. She opened the door and gestured for him to go inside, tossing her hair and lazily swinging the door behind her-- not quite letting it shut, though.

"Sorry that it's not exactly Caesar's Palace," she joked. "Since Mom died, my dad just let the importance of interior design slip away."

Harry waved her concerns away, setting his bag on the bed. "Nonsense. This was really nice of you two-- I'd sleep on a couch if I had to." She giggled at this before turning towards him.

Y/N looked up at Harry and gave him the look. It wasn't one he'd seen since his younger days, when girls and guys alike in clubs wanted to bed him for the social status. They lowered their eyelids slightly, cocked their head, and the corner of their mouth would tug up a bit in the hopes that it would make him immediately swoon. It never worked on H because he wasn't stupid, but he still recognized it to this day. Harry had no option except to match her eye contact, as he didn't trust himself to not let his eyes wander down to her V-neck.

Before he could say or do anything, Y/N breezed past him. "Dinner will be ready in thirty," she noted, brushing her hand down his arm as she left the guest room.

What the fuck?

Harry went back downstairs to join Liam and his two snifters on the table. His daughter was nowhere in sight, so he assumed she was in the kitchen. Liam droned on about how he was doing (probably in an attempt to take H's mind off his divorce) but, frankly, Harry wasn't really listening.

There's no way Y/N is trying to seduce him. No way. He's just... not been with a woman in a long time and is a little rusty with the signs. I mean, get real. He's almost 40 and she's, what, 18? 19? What would she want to do with him?

Dinner ended up being fajitas, good comfort food. Halfway through the dinner, though, Y/N innocuously gave up on using a tortilla and ate the filling with her hands. In any other scenario, Harry would find this to be in poor taste, but the way she made eye contact with H while licking the seasoning off her fingers made him forget all about table manners.

"... and the pap actually followed me into the locker room of my gym! I ripped him a new one. Yelling about how I haven't made music in a decade and left the band twice that much time age, and when they'll ever leave me alone. On the bright side, I think I flipped the bird in enough of his shots that none of them saw the light of day!" Liam had been telling a story which H had completely zoned out from, but luckily caught on to the part meant to be a joke. All three of them laughed together, though only one was genuine.

***

Harry couldn't fall asleep.

It didn't have any natural explanation; he didn't have any caffeine after three, he had a nightcap with Liam, and the finalization of the divorce should've led to him getting more sleep, right? Nonetheless, after hours of tossing and turning, he'd essentially given up and resorted to watching the fan lazily spin around. A sudden knock on his door spooked him, and when the door creaked open, Y/N's head popped in.

"Hey, Harry?" she asked softly.

"Yeah?" he grunted, sitting up. "'S everything alright?"

She entered without permission and sat on the edge of his bed. In the light of the bright moon outside he could see she was in a sheer white gown that just barely reached her mid-thigh. Scandalous. "Couldn't sleep."

"Same boat," he admitted, leaning back on his elbows. Her face was bare, clean of the makeup she'd had on earlier. She looked so fresh and healthy and her white nightgown gave her skin a sun-kissed appearance

Y/N sighed, her eyes wandered over his entire body, or at least all she could gather in the dark room. "Can I ask you a question?" she started, a delicate hand creeping on Harry's knee. "It's kind of... personal."

He swallowed thickly. Was it bad that just her hand on his leg made his cock twitch? "O'course. What's up?"

Y/N pursed her lips before releasing them and darting her tongue out and in. "You've had lots of sex, right?"

And he nearly choked on his own breath. She's so... straight to the point. He managed to keep his cool and nodded carefully. Where was she going with this?

"Well... I haven't," she continued, her hand sliding up his thigh just a little. "I've been seeing this guy, and he's great and all, but he's not too good in bed. I wanna do things with a man who knows what he's doing before I go back to the losers my age who... don't. Would you show me what it's like?" Her soft eyes lifted to meet his, and he couldn't believe his ears.

"Y/N... I-I don't know." Harry rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, as if to make sure he wasn't hallucinating this whole thing. It took him a bit to appreciate that she really had been trying to seduce him and he wasn't just going crazy.

He thought over it for a second. "It seems so wrong. I mean, the age gap is one thing, and your dad is another, but if you're already in a relationship I just...," he trailed off, not quite finishing his point and scanning your smirking face.

"He'll never know," she shrugged casually. "Not Alex or my dad. It's just a one time thing and it won't happen again."

He dragged a hand down his face, thinking over her proposition. At first glance, the cons of possibly getting caught greatly outweighed the pros. How many moral guidelines would he be breaking if he took her up on her offer? On the other hand, he hasn't had sex in what felt like ages, and when would he get this kind of chance again? He was getting up there in age and, despite his ex-star status, likely wouldn't have an attractive young woman throwing themselves at him ever again.

Fuck it.

"I- alright. What did you have in mind?" Harry's cock was starting to harden in his pants and he prayed that the angle his knee was at was hiding it.

Y/N smiled delightfully. "That's why I came to you. I don't just wanna do stuff, I want to learn. You show me."

Harry was gonna die from this girl. "Fuck, pet, you're gonna wreck me. Do you wanna... I don't know, start by sucking me off?"

"Yes please," she whispered, and there was officially zero blood left in any other part of his body.

"C'mere then." She clambered over the bed and his legs until they were face to face. He cupped her face in his big hands and connected their lips. Her lips were so soft and he wasted no time deepening the kiss followed by flicking the tip of his tongue on hers.

She pulled back to breathe. "You're fucking good at that," she blurted.

He smiled-- couldn't help it. "Then we should keep doing it," he suggested. They giggled together and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They continued making out, Harry leaning back until Y/N was laying on top of him.

One of her hands crept down to feel him in his boxers, cupping his erection. He moaned into her mouth, and she popped off his lips, making a juicy sound. She shifted down and toyed with his waistband before hesitating.

"I've only done this once, so..." she started, eyes avoiding him, "you may need to show me what to do."

"S'alright, pet," he soothed, cusping her chin and bringing her to make eye contact with him.

He sat back and took his boxers off, fleetingly embarrassed at his already-hard cock. It subsided when Y/N's eyes landed on it and her mouth actually dropped open. He grinned and took himself in his hand, pulling the foreskin down and swirling the precum around the tip. "See something y'like?"

She nodded and dropped down to be level with his member. "It's... big." Y/N gently took his cock and leaned in next to it to compare the size to her face. "How am I supposed to fit this all in me?" she asked innocently.

He groaned. "You sure y're new to this? Cause y're doing pretty damn well so far and y'haven't even gotten y'mouth on me."

She smiled and dragged the flat of her tongue from base to tip, making his head roll back. "Perfect, love. Act like you're trying to keep melting ice cream from getting everywhere." Y/N nodded.

Her tongue worked over every inch of him before finally attaching her lips to the head. She delicately sucked before getting the nerve to push down further. H's hand tangled in the hair on the back of her head and her mouth instantly became softer and over half of his cock slid between her lips.

"Fuck," he bit, emphasizing the K. Y/N liked hearing him swear because of what she was doing and was only spurred on. Maybe she was a little too excited, because she went a little too far down and came up coughing up a storm.

"Careful, doll," he cooed, rubbing her back as she regained her cool. "Do it at your own pace, not what you think I'd want." She nodded, teary eyes meeting his dark ones.

When his cock bumped at her lips again, she spit on it before going back to her comfort level. Her small hands gripped his base, where she couldn't fit her mouth. She acted like she didn't care how much of a mess she made and Harry thought it was so fucking hot. Her head lifted and lowered in his lap, obscenities slipping from H's mouth.

It got to a point where Harry was involuntarily bucking into her mouth, and he knew he was about to overwhelm her. If he kept letting her blow him, he'd cum down her throat any minute. "Fuck, love," he groaned, pulling her off him by her hair. "I think it's about time for your turn."

Y/N pouted for a second and he almost snapped. Her lips were puffy from sucking his cock, her eyes were watery, and her cheeks were pink and it took so much in him to not shove himself back into her soft mouth.

But she nodded and allowed him to pull the nightie off her body, exposing her breasts to him. He resisted impulsively grabbing at them as she rolled back onto the bed, hair fanning out below her. He climbed up and kissed her, tasting himself on her lips. He dragged his own mouth down her jaw and neck, past her collarbones and attached onto her nipple. One of his hands toyed with her other breast and her back arched beneath his body.

"Stay still," he ordered, breath ghosting over her skin. To further assert this, his free hand pressed her body back down onto the bed. She complied, but let heavenly noises slip from her.

Harry continued trailing down her body until he reached her white panties, which he grabbed with his teeth and dragged down her legs. He used his hands to get them off the rest of the way and spread her legs, exposing all of her to him. "So gorgeous," he said, almost to himself.

"Do you touch yourself?" he asked, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

Her cheeks were a soft pink, bashful at the sudden eye contact. "Yes," ghosted out of her mouth.

"What do you think about?"

Y/N pursed her lips momentarily. "Getting eaten out," she whispered. "No one's ever done it to me, but I bet it feels great."

Harry laughed at this, and placed two of his fingers on her clit. They dragged down her core to her already-wet hole and slowly made their way back up. His pressure was so light, yet her heightened sensitivity had her head roll back. "Go on," he hummed.  

Y/N sucked air through her teeth but obeyed. "Sometimes in porn, they 69 and I think that's so hot," she rushed out. "Like, both are getting pleased and moaning into the other--oh God," she whimpered when he momentarily dipped his middle finger inside her, only to pull it right back out.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Y'watch porn, hmm?"

It was Y/N's turn to smirk. "Everyone does." H pressed his finger slightly harder against her button and her back arched involuntarily.

His free hand pushed her back down again. "I said to stay still," he muttered, face hardening for a moment. "What else do you like to see?"

She gnawed on her bottom lip. "When they fuck missionary, I think it's really sweet when they make eye contact, but..." she trailed off.

"But what?" Harry pushed on, dipping his middle and index finger in this time.

"But... but I like when he fucks her from behind more. And it's really rough. And the girls cums all over his cock." Y/N exhaled, closing her eyes.

"Fuck, love, you're filthy," he noted. Harry spread her open and paid exclusive attention to her swollen clit, making her gasp as his rough fingers circled and flicked over it.

It was almost too much-- she was so sensitive she couldn't help but grab at his wrist to try and stop his actions. This finally got him impatient. He gripped her hand and huffed darkly, "Grab at me again and I'll tie you to this bed." Y/N's eyes were wide as saucers but her hands retreated and she allowed him to continue playing with her.

Without warning, H plunged his first two fingers into her down to his knuckles. He drew circles with his fingertips inside her pussy, stretching her open while stimulating every angle. Every four or five rotations, he hooked his fingers up to press against the spongey spot that had her whimpering and shaking.

"F-feels so good, Harry," she whined, struggling not to touch him and desperate for more. Her head tossed from side to side, as if to hide her moans and contorting face.

"Yeah?" he purred. "Y'like feeling m'fingers buried inside your tight little cunt?" Y/N nodded, slightly grinding her hips down. He allowed this, thumbing at her clit as she grabbed at the sheets.

Harry drew his fingers from her, and she groaned at the suddenly empty feeling. "Shh, love. Let's try something new." Her eyes confusedly begged for an explanation.

As soon as he uttered that number, Y/N's face brightened, she moved to let him lay on the bed and climbed so that her core was just above his face. She took his member in her hand as he grabbed at her ass with his big hands. The two of them dove into the other with carnal ferocity. Harry ate her like she was water in a desert, and this angle allowed his cock to slip right down her throat. The two devoured the other until the only sounds in the room were the slick noises of their own arousal and their muffled moans.

Y/N had never experienced this kind of raw pleasure before. He circled his tongue around her clit and, at the same time, pushed two fingers into her. She began to get a little greedy and pushed back against his face. He encouraged this, taking his fingers from her and wrapping his arms around her thighs and pulling her back on him. It wasn't long before she couldn't even focus on him anymore and virtually began riding his tongue. Her wobbly arms straddled his torso as he continued eating her out with the sounds of her gasps mixing with his mouth on her wet peach.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna--" she stuttered before reaching her high. Harry's tongue dove even further into her, letting her ride out her orgasm on his face. Even after she'd finished, he continued to lick into her.

Y/N rolled off his face and away from him. When he reached for her, she kept him at a distance with her arm extended. "I'm so... so..."

"Sensitive," he finished in a breath. She fell back onto the bed and he hovered over her. "When you come down, I want to be inside you."

Her jaw dropped at his boldness, but truthfully it was exactly what she wanted. After a few moments of her catching her breath, she laid back down on the bed and Harry towered over her. He caught glimpses of nervousness and leaned down to kiss her.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked, breath ghosting over her skin.

She shook her head. "No, but I'm not that... y'know..." Her eyes closed as she trailed off but Harry understood.

"Shh, s'alright. I'll be gentle," he promised. He lined himself up with her hole. "Are y'sure you want this?" he asked, just in case.

"Yes, please," she whined, and once given the green light, he inhaled sharply before gently pushing himself forward. The few seconds it took to fit his whole cock in her were perhaps the longest moments of his life. She was just so fucking tight, he had to count backwards from 100 to keep from harshly snapping his hips into hers.

Before he knew it, he looked down and his entire cock was buried in her cunt. He didn't dare move, allowing her to adjust before he really took off. It was so snug he thought he was about to go blind. Even with all they had already done, he still felt some level of disgust with himself.

Nonetheless, he couldn't stop.

She clenched around him, trying to hide her grimace. He leaned down to coo in her ear, "Shh, baby, take your time." H carefully kissed around her jaw and rubbed his hands up and down the sides of her body while continuing to stay still until she whimpered out one lone word. Move.

He straightened up again and reeled his hips back, revealing his cock now glistening. Harry pushed it back into her slowly causing her jaw to go slack and a soft moan to escape.

What really was the cherry on top for her was just the raw feeling of a cock inside her. The drag of it retreating and thrusting back into her, the empty feeling it left on the backstrokes, the tip pressing against the one spot inside her leaving her speechless. Sure, she'd played with herself and some boys had had the privilege of filling her with their fingers and whatnot, but nothing in her life had compared to a grown man stretching out her cunt with his thick cock.

Harry was shamelessly staring at himself disappearing into her walls and Y/N grinned. "Y'like watching yourself fuck this young cunt, hmm?" she teased, one hand grabbing the bedding and the other digging into his bicep.

"You've got a dirty mouth, y'little minx," he gritted out, a hand snaking up and gripping her throat as he continued fucking into her.

A devious smile crept up on her face, both frightening Harry and making his cock twitch. "Flip... me... over," she begged, voice straining through Harry's fist around her neck.

He nodded and pulled his cock from her. He moved back on the bed to allow her to lay on her stomach. Harry grabbed her hips and yanked her up on her knees and rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her slit to collect her arousal.

She arched her back and turned her head so that she could watch him fuck her. Her fingers clenched the sheets as he pressed the tip against her entrance before slowly sliding himself in again. Every thrust pushed her further into the pillows before he finally gave up and grabbed her by her hair, pulling her up so that her back was flush with his chest. The hand not tangled in her hair snaked around the front of her body for stability as he continued roughly fucking her.

He released her hair and brought the hand around to dip his fingers into her mouth. "Get 'em nice and wet, doll," he ordered and she complied, licking and sucking at his fingers until they were soaked. He trailed this hand down to her clit and began rubbing circles without breaking his rhythm.

Both of them were getting nearer to their orgasm, evident by Y/N's legs starting to shake beneath her and Harry's thrust becoming more and more erratic. "I'm g-na cum a-gain," Y/N choked out.

"Jus' a bit more, darling, and I'll fill your little pussy up," he hissed into her ear, which only made the both of them closer. Soon Y/N cried out so loud Harry had to smack a hand over her mouth, and his hips awkwardly stuttered as both of them came.

He drew himself out and both of them collapsed on the bed to catch their breath. Neither of them knew what to say or even think about what just happened.

Y/N shakily sat up after catching her breath."I can't stay here, or I'll fall asleep and my dad will catch us in the morning," she noted. "Thank you for that, Harry."

He snorted. "I should be thanking you. I haven't cum that hard in a long time."

She didn't respond, and it was quiet in the room for a few moments before Y/N finally broke the silence. "I think I have to break up with Alex," she muttered, slipping the nightgown back over her head and going to the door.

Panicked, Harry sat up on his elbows with his eyebrows furrowed. "What? Why?" His mind raced. Did she now regret doing this and felt guilty, maybe? Had he just made a huge mistake?

She stopped at the door, her hand on the knob, and turned to him. "Because every time I'm gonna be with him in the future, I'm gonna be thinking about what just happened," she explained with a grin before leaving and closing the door behind her.

If it weren't for the mind-blowing sex he'd just had and the sound of the fan soothing him to sleep, he probably wouldn't have let her leave.

[chiclet-go-boom]

fracture: snakebite

If he could simply force choke what they need out of whichever being in this room has the most of it, he would.

Untraceable credits on blank white chips buried in digital vaults, gray value information systems spanning this star cluster, underground black market supply routes running through it; whatever it is that Hux wants, he’s more than ready to just stand up and strip it out of the minds of every sentient creature here if it means he can leave.

He’s been in places like this so many times before and it scrapes along his skin like sand. Thirty floors into the sky and surrounded by office upon office of high level government, the floor to ceiling holoports make it seem as if they look upon dusk-scented gardens instead. There are jeweled automatons that resemble birds flitting high overhead, columns of white marble and a pale gold floor, high backed chairs and low couches. There is even the sound of a far away river, barely at the edge of hearing and a sweet breeze circulates. No expense has been spared, it seems, to impress him.

He’d been showcased in places much like this as a boy; more actual ancestral estate and less holoproj perhaps but the look is familiar regardless. His mother’s hope, his uncle’s pride, his father the thing best not mentioned. Exquisite furniture arranged in patterns meant to encourage the exchange of secrets, the sale of blackmail and worse. Expensive walls dripping with wealth and power from every polished surface. Small laughter and sharp eyes, the fingers like hooks that would rest on his thin shoulders.

Always found lacking with his ragged hair and his smuggler’s reflexes and his oh, so very questionable ancestry because whatever else that could have been said of Ben Solo as a child, he’d never been polished enough to fit in places like this.

Now, he’s still rough cut against all of this opulence, his hair still black and reflecting nothing and somewhere inside himself that’s very pleasing. Kylo Ren fits this place now as Ben Solo never could by virtue of being able to twitch his fingers and destroy the planet it stands on.

And he’s getting irritated enough to want to.

He's near one of the mock archways that disguises the actual wall, having thrown himself into the largest seat he could find when he walked in with Hux and his entourage trailing behind and he hasn’t bothered to move since. Wherever he is is the defacto central point after all and he’s been trying to amuse himself by watching the jockeying for position both as near and as far away from him as possible as the evening wears on. A lodestone, lining up all the magnets around him in orderly little lines of power and privilege.

He’s not meant for this and he knows it. His strengths are often an exact match to his weaknesses and being good at delicate political machinations does not appear on either of those lists. Being willing to listen to it being enacted in front of him isn’t there either, yet his physical presence could potentially collapse three months of effort into three days and Hux had all but insisted, insofar as the man dares to push his agenda onto Ren’s.

His General’s dark uniform stands out across the room along those of his hand picked psycoprop staff, black troopers stationed at implacable intervals along the projected illusions in jarring contrast to glittering jewelry of everything else. He glares at the bright red hair but Hux doesn’t stiffen or turn around in acknowledgement, engaged in conversation as he is.

Ren considers making his displeasure known a little more strongly. Peeling the bulk of the wealth out of this cluster by physically peeling apart its elite is something he really wishes Hux had offered up as an option but instead all he can do is sit here and imagine it. Maybe if he pays more attention somebody will finally do something he can take overt offense to.

On the left there’s what appears to be a female of some furred species, at least going by the layers of sheer fabric and subtle perfume, and on his right two male Devaronians who seem to have a better understanding of how to approach him which means they’re engaging with the possible female while he sits here and overhears the exchange. It has something to do with high density ferroconcretes and their application to something he didn’t bother catching. He doesn’t know if the coded female is important, meant to add decorative interest to the room, intended to attract him personally if possible or any of six other possibilities.

Ren taps his finger on the arm of the chair and sets a wave of lights swaying. He shifts his attention to the back of the room looking for anything entertaining to watch. The female leans in closer at his side to make a stronger point to her audience and her perfume shifts.

That’s when he feels it hit.

Later, he’ll wonder how he even had that much warning. But in the moment, he inhales and his vision flares in a sudden corona, bright and jagged. The Force around him pulses sickeningly. He can taste it coating the back of his throat like a wine gone bad.  

He strikes out with his mind and instantly recoils. He doesn’t know exactly what this is, but he knows then what it’s meant to do. The female shape wavers, retreating. He has no time to care.

No time.

“Hux!”

He gets to his feet somehow. He can feel it starting to tick down, now that he feels it, now that he knows what it is, already starting to saturate his bloodstream, licking at his heart. For a wild, hot moment he thinks he might be able to Force burn it out, set it and himself on fire in time to keep this from happening but no, no, he’s already taken too much in.

And Hux is halfway across the room. Only just turning his head with a sharp frown, probably for the tone of voice. Too loud, too grating, too crass. Too everything that he doesn’t like.

“Supreme Leader?” But he is turning, putting down his wine glass. Ren can hear the murmured excuses, how he’s a man meant for the battlefield, not the boardroom and certainly not a civilized party and there is polite, knowing laughter. Too slow. Too slow. Hux.

He grabs it by the throat, wills himself to one more moment of coherency.

“Armitage!” The lash snaps out and something shatters.

That gets through. That gets through fast and Hux goes from smiling politician to the First Order’s butcher in the time it takes him to blink, his long legs moving from amble to ground devouring stride. His face is twisting and Ren has no time to care what the expression means because he’s already sliding, losing his grip on reality, the growl starting to rise unwillingly in his chest, in his throat.

He’s in arm’s reach. Kylo grabs and yanks, pulling the other man hard into him. No time. He kicks out Hux’s legs, collapsing him against his body, sinks his fingers into his commander’s jacket to twist the material in a fist to make sure Hux stays right where he is.

He seethes with it. The room is already trembling, glasses nervously talking to themselves as his power starts to rise, cut off from control and panicking. He feels it pouring off his body like smoke. Terrible. Clawing. Indiscriminate.

His tongue feels like it’s cleaved to the roof of his mouth. There are no more words, just the agony of his teeth grinding together.

This would kill. This is meant to kill, meant to divorce him from who he is, hamstring him where he stands and twist his mind into itself, unable to strike back with his blood boiling under pressure lost and unable to find a way out. Force sensitivity launched into the stratosphere, burning as it goes. This would kill anyone lesser.

Stupid, he has time to think. This was stupid.

That’s all he has time for. The poison rears back and sinks fangs into his mind.

He screams and he does as he was taught to do, conditioned to do, split open and rebuilt to do, a weapon with one exquisitely violent direction and channels pain into rage.

He loses everything else but his grip on Hux never slackens.

-------------

No known counteragent.

He’s long prided himself on his ability to work within the constraints he’s been given. There are very few people or situations he cannot persuade, subvert, or outright sabotage to his advantage when he sets his mind to it and he is not going to let today be the exception to his outstanding record.

If he’d have been asked how this evening’s power exchange disguised with a thin layer of social oil was going to end, this would not have been in his top five picks. He’d been prepared for Ren to do something detrimental to the cause out of boredom or anger or quite possibly both. He’d been prepared for the Grand Marshal of this world to be equally obtuse for far more eloquent reasons. He’d been prepared to have to persuade no less than four different beings with decades of enmity behind them that working with the First Order was absolutely in their best interests as their options were much more limited than they’d been led to believe, and he’d expected to be able to do it without once having to speak plainly. He’d even been prepared for riots from the rabble in the streets for the First Order presence here if it came to that, although that was somewhat far down on his personal list of likely eventualities. He’d planned for all of it, prepared for most of it.

But not this. He breathes. He keeps walking. He is not going to lose control now.

No known counteragent.

He has the name of the drug and its chemical makeup. A rather narrow list of known results which started with convulsion and ended with death and didn’t bother to flirt with the rest of the alphabet. A sub-list of cascading permutations of those two items, listed not alphabetically or by most to least common but by, of all things, time scale versus midichlorian count. He finally has where the drug comes from, its most common preparations, the most effective ways to administer it and precious little else.

What he does have is aftermath and it is, quite frankly, terrifying.

And he’d known it somewhere but somehow he’s managed to keep overlooking it. A few Force tricks. A hair trigger temper primed to go off at the smallest things. A mind not trained for large scale manipulations if extremely dangerous at individual ones. He keeps falling back into the mindset that had been ground into him from their time under Snoke and he curses himself for failing to consider that perhaps he’d been pushed in that direction for a reason.

Ren is terrifying. And not in the sense of scary or frightening, although he is that - as in the oldest possible definition which is full of terror.

Ren apparently doesn’t have a midichlorian count. Ren is apparently just made of the stuff.

Hux is not losing control over this. He will shuffle his perspective about his current superior when he has time to consider it fully, which is not now or possibly anytime soon, which may extend to not while both of them are on the same planet.

That little piece of information is something he really should have ferreted out before now. Or perhaps the former Supreme Leader had simply enjoyed watching him snipe at Ren in his ignorance, which seems much more likely. But he has it now, listed on the flimsy he has tucked into his belt along with the rest of the numbers about the drug that somehow managed to make its way undetected into that room.

After the first handful of seconds there had been no more room to be concerned with. Concussive blasts, as hard and as fast as a fully deployed quake tower as Ren had apparently tried to shake off his impending demise like a wet dog. By time the time he’d finally succumbed to mere unconsciousness instead of the medically approved death, Hux had had a truly spectacular view of the horizon in pretty much every direction.

Best part is he has no idea how they both hadn’t been crushed by falling debris as everything else in a hundred meter radius was reduced to so much paste on the no longer existing walls.

Second best part is, for all he knows, the Supreme Leader actually had managed to make sure to miss the load bearing supports while in the grip of a virulent toxin meant to scramble every synapse he had. There is no question in his mind about his fate if he hadn’t have made it to Ren.

If Ren hadn’t called out.

His boots hit the ground in perfect staccato as his comm device continues to whisper reports in his ear, updating the situation in real time. The whole thing is now a political and economic nightmare along with his personal one.

He’s used to dealing with the first two. Not something he wants to brag about because a catastrophe is still a catastrophe no matter how nicely you phrase it and he’d been actively trying to avoid those tonight, but it’s the third that keeps taking him off his metaphorical feet, much as Ren took him off his actual ones.

The scrape of pain in his knees from being forced down so fast. The line of the burn he can feel when he swallows, earned from the strangling grip on his collar. The infernal noise that is still trying to ring in his ears.

No. No. Hux jerks his chin up. Control. He’s alive. So was Ren the last time he was updated, in some sort of mystic Force miracle. Those are the two pertinent facts he needs to hold onto. He is not going to collapse into a mess about it until much later, if ever.

He’d been the only one to get back up in the aftermath. Once he’d staggered back to his feet and senses, he’d had the entire building locked down — or what had remained of it at least. Within fifteen minutes, he had the complex and now, two hours later he’s holding at ten kilometers in every direction just to give himself some breathing room.

His hands are shaking and he can’t make them stop.

He’d brought down three of the escort cruisers as soon as he’d stood up and realized he still had a working comm link. They’re currently parked in precise alignment six kilometers over his head as a visual notification of his extreme displeasure at the outcome of the failed talks. He can taste the urge like copper between his teeth to bring the Adamant down as well from her high orbit. He wants it badly and it’s only the fingernail grip he has on common sense that’s keeping him from making that mistake, as good as it would feel. If he brings her down, he’ll want to use her guns and he’s going to save that for… well, he’s saving it.

He distracts himself with the stream of words in his ear and the pleasure of passing each cluster of troopers posted at every intersection, their weapons primed and at the ready. His personal escort is regulation distance behind him, marching in step.

Absolutely nothing is moving through his established perimeter that is not First Order. Their presence - his presence -  has come down like an orbital strike, he’s made crushingly sure of it. What had been a polite fiction of military distance and goodwill for this series of meetings has been cast aside for the paralyzing reality and if he could raze this entire city for this affront without creating even more of a disaster, he would without question.

No known counteragent.

How dare they. How dare they.

He turns into the infirmary, his escort peeling off to take up positions on either side of the door as it slides unhappily along its track. He frowns at the painful grind of metal on metal but it does open. He realizes the problem when he’s confronted with an unimpeded view of the patient in question.

He’s pretty sure there’d been a clear viewing wall there before. And more operative numbers of droids.

He edges around the crumpled and split machinery. Somehow Ren���s not only awake but actually sitting sideways on the medical chair even if his hands are clenched hard around the edge for stability. His tunic is wide open, exposing a swath of bare flesh pockmarked with abrasions that were probably medical implants he’s torn out. His hair is completely wrecked. From this angle he looks like he’s just recovering from a rather hedonistic party.

He looks up as Hux walks in and there’s something very wrong with his eyes.

“How are you even functional?” is the first thing he thinks to say.

Ren actually quirks his lips as Hux closes the distance. His eyes. It takes him a few more steps but then realizes it’s because the man’s sclera have completely disappeared. So black it’s like looking into a void.  

“A question for another time. I need you to tell her to stop.” Those eyes glitter and his voice is rough enough to be concrete.

He looks around. There’s no one here. “What? Who, her?”

“She keeps trying to heal me. It’s making her sick.” Ren shudders then, bone hard and blood spittle flecks his lips. The metal strewn all over the floor rattles and Hux just barely catches his own flinch in time. That’s what he remembers from those few minutes where his world view got readjusted as to Force user potential. Ren shaking and the world splitting apart around them in shrieking sympathy.

Ren looks down at the floor and his fingers flex again, making the metal of the chair creak. “Stop it.”

Hux takes a deep breath and shoves down his reaction, even as his eyebrows want to crawl into his hairline. “Hallucinations weren’t on the list of symptoms, but I suppose since nobody else has ever lived through this they might be forgiven for having missed that one. As it appears you’ve wrecked the medical droids, if you want a placebo for seeing things that aren’t there I’ll need to arrange for more to be sent.”

“No. I am not translating. Come here.” Ren’s eyes flick up again and he repeats himself. “Come here, Hux.”

Apparently that wasn’t addressed to the air. He takes a few cautious steps closer and Ren reaches out imperiously. His hand grips hard above his hip, the wide stretch curving around his side to nearly to his spine. He can feel the individual impress of those long fingers.

Hux freezes.

“Really, Ren?” he gets out after a moment. “Is this where we have that conversation again about who hates being touched more?”

“Do you see him? Hear him?”

“Ren?”

There a moment’s pause. Then, “Report.”

Well, he knows that one at least out of this whole surreal conversation. “Am I reporting to Ren or the Supreme Leader?”

The fingers flex, drawing him infinitesimally closer. “Give me Ren’s report.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know you’re not dead. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. What else?”

“That’s about it for Ren. According to the medical flimsy I read while walking over here to check on your comatose body and query the medical droids in person about any possibility of your continued brain function, you’re dead and I’m the Supreme Leader now. The salient talking point is there’s no known counteragent. Symptoms are convulsions, rapid onset and widespread damage targeting the victim’s Force receptors, cascading system failure immediately following as the body cannibalizes itself trying to fix that damage and then actual death within minutes after ingestion, occasionally within seconds depending on certain factors. The fact that I’m still reporting to you in any capacity at all is frustrating.”

Ren’s grip tightens and Hux wonders if he’s going to bruise. The man sways forward and his forehead drops to rest on Hux’s chest. This close he can feel the heavy breath gusting as Ren exhales, the constant minute trembling throughout his entire body as fine muscles twitch and flex spasmodically. The heat boiling off his skin is hard to believe.

Hux lifts his hand incoherently, hovering over the dark hair before letting it drop again to his side. He flexes his fingers to get rid of the incongruous urge to touch back. That is not an acceptable response in any scenario.

“Do you want the other report now?”

“Highlights.”

“Three escorts in close orbit above the city, hard perimeter with full combat parameters established at ten kilometers and the Adamant on high alert standby. Since I don’t know precisely what to shoot at, I haven’t brought her any closer. Once I know who or what is responsible for this attack against us, I’ll wipe them or it off the face of this world and then I’ll have a much clearer idea as to what I advise as primary and secondary objectives.”

“Bloodthirsty.”

“Have we met before? If whoever was responsible wasn’t in that room and isn’t currently being suctioned off the floor with a straw, I will have them found, dragged in front of me and eviscerated while their grandmother watches. I will then move onto their siblings and children, and likely several orders of cousins. I may order wine.”

“Very bloodthirsty. I approve. Can you speed up my recovery? This is… painful.” Ren’s voice cracks on the last word.

“No. I can bring another droid in, if you promise not to rip it apart, and make sure you’re hydrated, top up your electrolytes and perhaps have them attend to your cuticles if they’re bothering you. This poison was rare, Ren. So rare it took my best over an hour to dig the information out of the Coruscant deep archives as the last known victim was over four hundred standard years ago and I might as well have saved the effort for how much actually helpful information was in there. I can tell you that it probably killed everybody that came in contact with it during the preparation stages if that makes you feel better. I am still not sure how it got in the room at all and considering what you did to the place, I doubt I’ll ever get a satisfactory answer as to the vector.”

“It was perfume. At least I am pretty sure it was perfume. What did I do to the place?”

“There’s no room left. There is barely building on that side, actually.”

“I may want to see that later. But there you go, can you give up now? There’s nothing you can do and I’m still alive so stop making both of us feel like this.”

“Hallucinations really weren’t mentioned. Do you mind telling me who you think you’re talking to?”

He can hear the grimace in the voice. “Somebody who is absurdly worried for me in case I actually do die and it leaves a hole in their psyche they’re not prepared to deal with yet.”

“If it helps, had you in fact died as you were supposed to, my psyche would have been just fine. I would have had an ascension ceremony to plan which can be quite time consuming. Thank you, by the way.” It takes hard effort to say the words and they come out clipped and tight. Still. It has to be acknowledged. And he will.

"For?"

"Saving me."

“Armitage.”

And those fingers flex again on his hip and Hux looks up at the ceiling. Keep his own hand at his side by force of will. “Warlord Ren. Can you let go of me now?”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Supreme Leader.”

“General Hux. You are very annoying, but... as you wish. Your reports have been delivered. I will require hydration and those promised electrolytes as soon as you can arrange them and I don’t want you to do anything irrevocable until I’ve had a chance to interrogate whichever next of kin you suspect the most. Somebody made a very stupid decision that was not well thought out and I am going to rip it out of them slowly for putting me through this.”

He stares down at the dark head. “I did not hear you say that. Didn’t you hear the part about hundreds of years ago and incredibly virulent for Force users and oh, there’s never been a survivor of this particular toxin? Did I have to spell those parts out? This took an incredible amount of planning to set up, and I want every person responsible found and destroyed out to the tenth bloody generation of their family tree, along with all of their employees and their families and whatever city they were based in will be receiving love taps disguised as kinetic bombardment from the First Order for the next standard year until it and the closest hundred kilometers disappears into the very mantle as an object lesson. Nobody attacks us like this. Nobody can be permitted to think they can attack you.”

“What's this? Anger on my behalf?” Ren questions, his voice scraping like rocks under white water.

Hux hesitates and he curses himself for the delay, tiny as it is. He's heard those words before and he didn't like them or their implication then either. “I am loyal to the First Order, of course, and to you, Supreme Leader. You must agree that this attempt — any attempt — must be punished thoroughly, completely and without mercy.”

Ren laughs and then shudders again even harder than before, making a small, wounded sound. Hux’s mouth goes dry but this time at least nothing in the room flexes. Finally the man’s hand drops away from his side and he’s able to step back as Ren raises his head.

His eyes are still solid black and it’s still very disconcerting to look at. A midichlorian count high enough to be meaningless and a hallucinating man where there should be a very, very dead one.

“Very well. Your loyalty to the First Order as a whole is commendable. You are dismissed, General Hux. Report to me if the situation changes or you find urgently relevant information. And send me that medical droid.”

Hux half bows and turns to leave. “It shall be as you command, Supreme Leader.”

[gwynne-fics]

Silver Lining

chapter thirty-one (sexy things warning)

“Eun-Sang agreed to the security detail you proposed. She wants to keep our cook but she says you can put a full team on the house as long as they stay unobtrusive.” Young-Do tried to give the information as candidly as possible. Go Nam-Il tilted his head and then nodded.

“I would like each of you to have a panic button.”

“It can’t be that bad of a situation inside the company to warrant that. We’re not…” He trailed off as Go Nam-Il looked at him flatly and without any sort of hint that he was overreacting. “This isn’t the Blue House. I’m not the prime minister. He is just my father.”

“Young-Do, I was there when the doctors said the swelling in your brain might be too extensive for you to come out of the coma. I will do anything to prevent that from happening again. You have decided not to fight back so it is my responsibility as your employee and teacher to protect you. You keep your car keys with you all the time. You won’t even notice the extra weight.”

They sat in silence and Young-Do could barely breathe for a few minutes. He had no idea how he would convince Eun-Sang to carry it. “Alright.”

Go Nam-Il reached into pocket and handed him a small FOB device to attach to his keys. “It allows me to both track your location and record audio of what is going on around you. Just squeeze and it will light up for three seconds to let you know that it has been activated.”

“It won’t come to this.” Young-Do attached it to his keys and put it in his pocket.

“Yes, President Choi.” He stood and bowed. Their daily meeting was over and he left. He called Hyun-Shik in and briefly explained that he would have to move around some of his evening appointments this week. Tonight was the first night he would have a dedicated dinner with Eun-Sang.

She deleted all of her pictures with Hyo-Shin.

He didn’t know how he felt both knowing she did it before talking to him or that she waited until now to do it. He hadn’t texted Hyo-Shin back after his moment of weakness. He kept the phone with their pictures on it in his safe and Hyo-Shin had never been his…boyfriend.

Hyun-Shik frowned. “The negotiations with the new marketing vice president of Tae-Jin Chemicals can’t wait. Her schedule it too tight, and since you have a reputation of moving around your schedule when it comes to using the hotel for marketing, she is expecting your flexibility. Can you come back? Which nights are you not having dinner together?”

“Tonight is non-negotiable,” Young-Do said after a minute. “Call up Eun-Sang’s assistant and find out what her schedule looks like and plan it out for me. This is one of those things you can gossip about.”

“President Choi,” Hyun-Shik looked mildly affronted as he struggled to hide a smile. “I would never gossip about your relationship with your wife to anyone. I’m very tight-lipped.” He paused then clarified, “About the very important things.”

“Exactly.” Young-Do smiled at him. Finding Hyun-Shik in the aftermath of the company’s near implosion was probably the luckiest hire of his tenure as a new president. “Who is asking questions?”

“Vice President Kang and Vice President Han both commented on the flowers at the airport. They wondered if the necklace she wore to the event was from you and I indicated it was a gift for her successful six billion won contract. They are curious about her relationship with Director Yoo and I don’t have enough information to comment on that. Director Na…she wanted to know if I’d heard anything about a baby yet.”

Young-Do tried not to make a face. “As far as you know, we’re too busy to think about children right now. You may have heard me mention we’re waiting until we’ve been married a year to start trying.”

“Yes, President Choi. I’ll stress that you have communicated this with your wife and that it is a sign of how well your relationship is going that the two of you are on the same page about children. I will also stress the stability of it. This is a future plan which means the two of you don’t have plans to divorce.”

“Thank you.” Hyun-Shik left and within the hour had rearranged his evenings to accommodate what Eun-Sang said she wanted. He spent his afternoon going through proposals and reports before it came time to go home. Young-Do stared at the clock and tried not to feel weird that he was getting home before eight at night. Most of his employees hadn’t left and it was probably because he was known to walk the floors around nine to just…be present in a way his father never tried to be.

He drove home and was greeted at the door by the steward who took his jacket and briefcase. Young-Do put his keys in his pants pocket and intended to tell Nam-Il that he definitely could feel the new weight of the panic button. Maybe if he just put it on her keys, Eun-Sang wouldn’t notice, but then again, that would defeat the purpose if he didn’t tell her it was there.

She was alone in the kitchen and he was surprised when she set the stew pot on the table. “You cooked again?”

“Not entirely. Ha-Jin just finished up so I’m putting it on the table. I wanted us to have some privacy tonight. What’s that?” she nodded at the FOB he placed next to her table setting while they sat down together. He dished out their rice and tried not to duck his head.

“Security Chief Go wants us to have panic buttons. I don’t think it will come to that but the reason I hired him was to protect my business interests. Right now, that includes us.”

Eun-Sang picked it up and considered it. He prepared for an argument that didn’t come. “Okay. I’ll put it on my keys after dinner.”

They lapsed into silence while they ate and he tried to come up with something to talk about. For the first time, their home felt very private, like it was just them inside. Maybe this was the illusion she was trying to create with such a small staff. “Did you move the couch?”

“The girls are coming over this weekend while Bo-Na has one of her checkups. I know you’re in meetings Saturday morning but you should come for lunch and say hello. A blanket fort is necessary for the bird girls.”

He did recognize the configuration. They finished without talking much and he didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved until she came around to his side of the table and bent down and kissed him. Young-Do automatically scooted his chair back and widened his legs a little to accommodate her standing between them. He cupped the back of her neck and enjoyed the slow, lazy way she kissed him.

“What was that for?” She started unbuttoning his shirt before she got to his pants and undid his belt. She ran her hands up and down his thighs as she knelt down between them.

“Dessert.” He let out a quiet yelp when she put her mouth on his arousal and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He immediately reached down and curled his fingers in her hair and tried to breathe.

He was not a man who got blown often because he didn’t bother to ask for it. His size was a deterrent for most women, yet that hadn’t appeared to dissuade Eun-Sang. It was so rare that he had no intention of stopping her but he tried to keep his grip on her hair light and not pull it with every pass of her tongue. “Fuck,” he said and she lifted her head and stopped right before he came.

Then she held up his keys with a grin.

“Chase me,” she said and before he could process what that meant, Eun-Sang bolted out of the dining room, through the living room, vaulted over the couch while he struggled to close his pants up, and hit the garage door all before he could really process what was going on because he hadn’t come and it hurt to come down without it. “If you catch me,” she said, “I’ll let you fuck me however you want.”

Then she was gone, along with his car.

[kimjongdaely]

Façade [Chapter 2]

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Warning: Language

Summary: You thought you wanted fame. You thought you wanted this. But a part of you still yearned for that normal life, a normal love: finding someone that you love and will love you back with all his heart. So soon enough, this became too much for you.

Prologue│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Epilogue

Chanyeol’s close friends, Jongdae, Baekhyun and Sehun were betting on how long Chanyeol would last without you.

Sehun scoffed and said, “Three days.”

“No, I think that’s too short.” Baekhyun looks at the others confidently. “I’ll give it one week.”

“Two weeks.” Jongdae pipes and Chanyeol groans at his friends.

“You guys are the most supportive friends ever.” He says sarcastically. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Baekhyun grins before throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Come on, it’s not the end of the world.”

“As far as I know, this marriage is a scam.” Sehun remarks. “You don’t even love her.”

“I don’t.” Chanyeol growls. “It just bruised my ego.”

“Right, because you were dumped.” Baekhyun decides to rub it in and Chanyeol scowls.

Turns out, Chanyeol lasted a month without you before he started becoming restless. Every time he came home it would feel exceptionally empty, cold. It didn’t feel like home anymore.

He started taking more schedules, keeping himself on set almost 24 hours a day.

His friends look at him worriedly as they come to visit him often.

“You look drained.” Baekhyun says softly as Chanyeol finally stops filming for a few minutes to get a breather. “Makeup isn’t covering those eye-bags. Have you been sleeping?”

“Not really.” He answers honestly. “I don’t really go home anymore.”

“Ok, I know this divorce has a really big impact on you but—” Baekhyun starts his rant but Chanyeol shushes him up quickly, not bothering to even listen anymore.

“I doesn’t affect me.” Chanyeol insists, convincing himself more than Baekhyun. “Really. It doesn’t.”

Baekhyun doesn’t even try to act like he’s convinced. He stares at Chanyeol with a raised brow, silently asking, ‘Really? Really? I don’t believe you.’

“If it doesn’t affect you then why would you be driving yourself to overwork your body? You look like a living corpse right now and you’re only going to make the cut if you’re one of those zombies in Train to Busan.” He only pauses to take a breath. “Well you’re not, so get the fuck home, sleep, eat and then you can continue doing whatever you want.”

Chanyeol says nothing for a while before he sighs deeply, giving in to his best friend. He knows he looks awful right now, and is giving one hell of hard time to his makeup artists.  He bites his lip before finally nodding, “Fine.”

Baekhyun grins wildly before skipping over to tell the director of the movie who is more than glad to take a rest.

The deadly silence in his apartment is deafening against his ears. He must admit, it’s never been the liveliest of places, but at least he felt comfort in another human presence in the house.

He plops down on the couch, lying down and staring at the ceiling, feeling the fatigue catch up on him. Silence makes his thoughts run wild.

He’s not sure he can fall asleep at this rate. Working has kept him distracted, but now everything dawns on him that he’s alone again.

It’s supposed to be good, right?

Then why does it feel so suffocating?

Apparently, his body was more tired than he imagined and it starting shutting down the second he started to relax.

His eyes slide closed.

“Cut! Not enough emotion. Why can’t you get it right?” The director yells impatiently as the entire crew is forced to stop for the millionth time.

You squeak in terror as you bow repeatedly, apologies flying off your tongue but falls on deaf ears. The director scoffs at your bad acting before sinking back into his chair and reluctantly calling, “Ten minute break.”

You scramble off set and go get some water. You haven’t been in the show business for very long, only about three months, and it’s your first offer to be in a movie.

Although you aren’t any important character, every character counts and you have to get it right no matter what.

You sigh as you take a sip from your paper cup as you sink into one of the plastic chairs.

“Hey,” a foreign voice greets warmly and you lift up your head to get your breath stolen by an incredibly handsome man. “Are you okay?”

You recognize him as one of the more important characters of the movie. You quickly nod before an embarrassed laugh bubbles from your lips. You can’t believe this gorgeous guy saw your terrible acting. “I’m fine. I got used to it.”

The smile that blooms on his face is boyish and friendly. He plops down next to you and heaves a sigh. “The director can get so picky sometimes. It’s not just you, so please don’t feel bad. In fact, I think your acting is amazing.”

The compliment brings a smile to your face, but not because you believed his words. It was just that he took his time to cheer you up. You found that sweet.

“You’re nice.” You blurt before you could stop yourself, and the man turns to you with wide, surprised eyes.

“Me?” He asks almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

You nod as you watch a grin break out on his face.

“You’re nice too.” He responds. “And pretty.”

You can’t stop the heat the creeps to your cheeks as you turn to the flimsy paper cup you hold too tightly in your hands as he chuckles.

“We’re both newbies,” he starts again. “So let’s be friends?”

You’re surprised yet again at this, never expecting someone with such potential and looks to offer to be your friend. “Uh…sure. I would love to.”

He smiles, creases appearing in the corner of his eyes cutely. “My name is Park Chanyeol.”

You giggle, because you already knew that.

“You’ve improved.” You jump at the familiar voice of Park Chanyeol. You meet his eyes through the reflection of the mirror in your dressing room.

“Thanks,” you answer simply. “What are you doing here?”

“What,” he grins widely as he makes his way over to you. “Shouldn’t I get something like ‘I missed you so much’?”

You giggle before standing up and meeting him with a hug. “I missed you. How did it go?”

“The movie?” He breaks the hug. “It was great. A really good experience. I got yelled at a lot though. Can’t be helped because it’s only been like what, nine months? since I started.”

You nod, completely understanding. You’ve met Chanyeol for six months now, half of which he spent overseas filming for his new movie. In the three months that he was here, you spent a lot of time practicing lines with him and both of you improved drastically. In the three months that he was away, he called almost everyday.

But it’s always different when he’s right here in front of you. It felt like he left only yesterday, and yet it feels like an eternity.

You missed him.

Your friend.

“Do you think we’ll get a rookie award this year?” He grins and you laugh, shaking your head.

“Probably not.” You answer and he pouts. “We still have a long ways to go.”

“Right.” He mumbles, much less excited than before. You laugh again.

It turns out, you did get the rookie award. You were surprised because you started so late and yet the one year that you met Chanyeol, you’ve already improved to become almost better than some of your unnies.

“I told you we could do it.” He grins at you widely, his trophy proud in his hands. You remember the brightest smile on him that day, and he said yours was equally blinding. He was obviously exaggerating, but he said he couldn’t even look at you that day because you were so happy you were practically glowing.

Maybe he wasn’t exaggerating after all, because you do remember being the happiest that day.

Time passed and another year flew before your eyes. Awards are just around the corner, and Chanyeol has been like an anchor for you as you got just the tiniest bit busier.

Seeing him made your fatigue go away, and apparently you did the same to him because suddenly he doesn’t look so tired when he laughs with you.

You were able to get the rookie award last year because you were so incredibly new but improved so incredibly quickly. This year, you weren’t so sure if you could get an award or not.

But then you see your and Chanyeol’s name nominated for supporting actress & actor with our respective films.

You couldn’t believe your eyes, being able to become nominated again right when you won the rookie award last year.

You quickly find Chanyeol, bursting into his dressing room with a loud squeal. “We’re nominated! Did you see?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol gives you a smile but it’s not genuine. Something’s on his mind, and you frown.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, approaching him slowly. You place a hand on his shoulder for comfort and he nods slightly.

“I’ve just been thinking.” He whispers.

“About?” You cock your head at him and he abruptly stands up, surprising you. He turns to you with fiery, determined eyes and you’ve never seen him with that look before.

“Will you marry me?”

Your body freezes as the words hit you like a hurricane, your mind blown into a flurry. What did he just say?

He rakes a hand through his messy hair as he sighs. “Not for real, though. Well, I mean, for real but not for real.” His explanation does nothing to untangle the knots.

“Continue.” You say flatly, your eyes trained on his nervous form. He fidgets for a moment before slumping back into his chair and sighing.

“You and I have been really good friends.” He starts. “And I was able to improve so much because of you and vice versa.”

You nod, taking a seat next to him.

“So…I was thinking…that if we got married we could rile up the audience. They would pay special attention to us, especially if we made this like a big thing.” His tongue peaks out to wet his dry lips. He looks at you nervously. “Are…are you in? We could even get the best actor & actress award next year if the noise is loud enough.”

A scam.

That was the first thought that entered your mind. Chanyeol wants to fool the public into thinking the two of you were in love and happily getting married. The two newbies who rose so quickly in the industry.

Noise. Chanyeol wants to make noise.

He wants the public to focus on the two of you, then they’ll very likely watch the films that the two of you played in and the ratings will definitely go up.

Indeed, it could work.

You’re young, you can get married to the right person later. You can always get divorced if the plan didn’t work as well as you thought. Right now, your career is more important than anything.

You have nothing to lose from this. In fact, it benefits the both of you.

You suck in a deep breath. “Okay, I’m in.”

“And the supporting actress goes to…” The hosts read the envelope before grinning wildly.

Your heart stops when they call your name and you almost don’t register as people around you stand up, applauding loudly. You blink several times before realizing that you should probably go on stage.

Once you get up there, you’re not sure what to do. Countless eyes train on you, cameras at every angle.

You gulp.

Breathe.

“This is such a great honor,” you start as you speak into the mic, the room falling into a hush. “Especially because I’m so new. I really want to thank my seniors for helping me so much and taught me so much. Also—”

You are cut off by the audience’s loud gasp. You turn to your left where Chanyeol is coming up with a handsome smile, a bouquet of roses in his hands. Your eyes grow wide as he comes up to you and kneels. The audience lets out another loud gasp.

“We’ve always been together since we started this career,” Chanyeol starts and you know the cameras are zooming in on him, trying to catch every word. “You’re my best friend, and I can’t help but fall for you.”

His words are sweet and smooth, and although you know he probably practiced this a million times, you can’t help but let your heart race.

“Will you marry me?” He asks, showing you a gorgeous diamond ring that makes you gasp.

The audience waits in silent suspense, waiting for the answer that will fall from your lips.

“I…I do.” You smile widely as Chanyeol stands up, slipping the ring onto your finger and handing you the roses before pulling you into a tight hug. The audience goes wild and you can only imagine thousands of people who are watching immediately check out who the two of you are.

It seems like his plan might work.

And even though you know this, that this is all just part of a scam, you can’t help but feel tears in your eyes as your heart pounds loudly in your ears.

The wedding, as you remember it, was extravagant yet simple. Some close friends and families were invited, and of course, the paparazzi. When you walk down the aisle to your future husband, he takes your hand tenderly and flashes you a lovely smile.

Your heart tricks you to think that the look in his eyes is love. Your mind tells you that he’s nothing but a great actor.

The mind is almost always right.

You thought your marriage to him will be happy while it lasts. Because he’s your best friend and you feel happiest with him, but you should have known better.

Because you’ve already fallen.

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A/N: So some backstory on how this all happened (in case you’re confused, the italics is the past) 😊 Thanks for reading and giving my stories lots of love~ As always, please tell me what you thought about this story/chapter!

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