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seeklovenet · 2 years ago

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Best 13+ Courting Sites To Meet Someone On-line In 2023

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#9 It’s Just Lunch – Best Courting Site For Busy Professionals

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Top Dating Websites And Apps In 2023

Silver Singles is a courting app that’s exclusively for daters who are age 50 and above. Knowing that you’re within the company of others who're your age and in search of love may be really comforting. Hinge prompts are unlike any other within the online dating business. The prompts contain a series of personal questions to assist customize your dating experience on the location. The solutions might be displayed in your profile to make sure they'll assist attract like-minded matches. One of essentially the most distinctive features that other on-line dating sites wouldn't have is the reverse matching and mutual matching features.

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Best For People 50 And Over

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Using knowledge points—such as value , as properly as the matching algorithm and communication features—we’ve give you the top sites online right now. I was on Clover for quite some time, but had since forgotten it existed till I began to compile this listing. Clover says it has almost 6 million customers, 85% of whom are between the ages of 18 and 30. In different words, the app allows users to search out matches primarily based on their bodily location. This is a superb function for people who discover themselves all the time on the go and don't have a lot time to waste on online relationship. The web site has an in-depth personality questionnaire that helps to match you with potential partners.

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jeyramarie · 3 years ago

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Stood up- JJ Maybank x Reader

summary: You and JJ have a date planned but apparently other things were urgent.

wc: 1,256

warning: cursing, angst

a/n: this is my entry for the writing challenge 😁 @ilovefandoms102 i hope it’s good 🥺 congrats on 2k hun! i love you so so much, you deserve it all ❤️

The doorbell rang as I walked into the Wreck to begin my shift. I had worked there since freshman year of high school, when I met Kie. And you may be wondering, does that mean you’re a kook, Y/n? Yes, I’m a kook but just like Kiara, I connect more with the pogues. They’re nicer to me anyway.

“Sup, Y/n!” Kie said as I walked into the restaurant.

“Hey, girlie. How you doing?” I smiled as I made my way around the counter to hug her.

“I’m good, how ’bout you?”

“I’m okay, a bit tired but it’s fine.”

“You spent all night talking to JJ again?” She smirked, making me blush as I put my stuff away.

“Yeah… I'm just waiting for him to ask me out already.”

“He’s gonna ask you out, trust me.”

I began to work, taking orders and cleaning tables. The shift was half way done when Pope and JJ walked in making Kiara leave what she was doing to say hi to them. I stayed cleaning out a table while looking at JJ. He looked so good, as usual. I didn’t turn around in case that looked desperate so I just waited for him to come to me. Suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder and I thought it was a client so I turned and gasped. It was JJ.

“Hey.”

“Hey, J. How are you?”

“I’m good, now better that I'm seeing you.” He smirked, causing me to blush and look to the ground.

“Very funny, Maybank.” I said and walked past him to behind the counter. He followed and leaned against it, wanting to continue the conversation.

“I wanted to ask you something actually.”

“Yes?” I asked leaning closer to him.

“I was just um… I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date.. tonight..” JJ asked, scratching the back of his head. I smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear before looking at him.

“I would love to, where do you wanna go?”

“Oh really? Um.. how bout the movies?”

“Yes, of course. We’ll meet there?” I said as I opened the cash register to give a client back their change.

“Sure, yeah. I’ll see you there.” He smirked as Pope called out for him to walk out. We both looked at him and back at each other with a small smile and blush on both our cheeks.

“I’ll see you tonight, babe.” and with that he walked outside with Kiara and Pope, leaving me a blushing mess.

That night I wanted to go all out. I wore some ripped jeans, a baby tee and my vans. My makeup was pretty simple and my hair too. JJ had texted me during the day that the movie was at 8. Of course, I wanted to be punctual so I was already there at 7:45. I stayed outside, standing on the sidewalk waiting to see his bike or his dad’s pickup truck.

The watch read 8:30 and JJ still wasn’t here. A cold breeze tan through my clothes making me hug myself, trying to keep warm as I stared at both sides of the road constantly. My anxiety started to creeped up which made me pull out my phone and text JJ.

‘Hey, are you okay?’

delivered 8:30pm

I put my phone away and began to walk back and forth, up and down the sidewalk. The ticket man was giving me eyes of pity at this point. He offered a free ticket but dumbass me declined.

Time went on and it was 9:50 pm. My shoulders were down and my eyes got watery as I finally realized that JJ was not going to show up. I began to walk back to my car as I pulled out my phone to text him again, seeing all the previous ones.

‘Are you coming?’

delivered 9:00pm

‘Did something happen?’

‘Are you okay?’

delivered 9:05pm

‘If this was some sick bet or joke, you‘re a fucking asshole!’

delivered 9:30pm

‘I’m going home. Don’t talk to me ever again.’

Delivered 9:50pm

The ride home felt long and dreadful, I didn’t even have the energy to play some music. I stayed with the dead of night silence. The only thing heard were a few birds chirping, the leafs ruffling against each other and the waves crashing at shore. I walked inside my home and my mom sat at the dining table, organizing some things for work.

“Hi, honey. How was the date?” She asked, taking off her reading glasses, watching me out the car keys on the counter.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I muttered, turned to the hallway to go to my room.

“Well… I’m here, okay?” I nodded and walked towards my bedroom, throwing my purse on my bed. Tears crept up in my eyes as I threw myself on the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Many questions went through my head and all turned to anxiety in a second.

The next day came around and I were working my usual shift after school at the Wreck. I was in charge of the take out orders and the cashier which made me stay behind the counter the whole time. I was currently reading ‘Little Women’ as I waited for more customers when the doorbell, causing me to look up. JJ ran inside, out of breath with worried eyes.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean to miss it. I just needed to help Pope with something and we went to Charleston. It all took longer than expected and then my phone died, we saw Sarah and John B and we just came back really late. I didn’t see your messages and-“

“JJ, breathe.” I chuckled as I interrupted his rambling while holding his hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. Please, forgive me.” He begged and pecked the top of my hand in desperation. I sighed and looked away while taking back my hand.

“What you did was really shitty, J.”

“I know, I know and I feel horrible about it but please forgive me.” I stayed quiet and moved back to the register to look over the receipts. JJ walked around the counter and cornered me, placing his hands on my cheeks.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. I really like you so please, let me try this again.” He whispered looking in between my eyes and lips. I leaned up and connected my lips to his, interlocking them softly. We parted from each other, both of us a blushing mess and we realized what just happened.

“We can go to the movies again but I'll pick you up.” I laughed poking his chest playfully which made him chuckle.

“It’s a deal. Thank you.” JJ smiled and hugged me sweetly and kissed the side of my neck softly.

“Now please go so I can work.”

“Fine, fine. Oh, can I get a burger to go?”

“Seriously? Fine, it’ll be out in a minute.” I smiled as I wrote down the order and took it back to the kitchen. When I walked out, JJ was on the other side of the counter, flipping through the pages of the book. I stared at him for a while longer, admiring how the sun made his hair seem golden and how it made his eyes look a lighter shade of blue. If you haven’t noticed by now, yes, I’m pretty smitten.

#ilovefandoms102writingchallenge #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine

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ldouble · 4 years ago

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Can’t Help It | Antonio Dawson x Reader (Chicago PD)

summary: You never expected flowers to be delivered to you. You weren’t one for girlish things, for goodness sake you were a cop who liked strapping a gun more so than clicking into heels. With this, it’s a pleasant surprise when you are delivered flowers not once, not twice, but three times in the span of a week. For Antonio, your partner and the guy who definitely did not have feelings for you, its more suspicious.

You stare at empty board, the lack of thumbtacked pictures a rare sight. This was the Intelligence Unit. There was always a case. Sometimes you thought the crimes rolled in like such clockwork you could have a TV show.

Wednesday. 9 PM Central.

With the clear board, you were sure to get cancelled.

You didn’t want anything up there. The first piece of evidence or any sort of lead usually meant someone was dead. You didn’t wish that at all.

The sight just made you uneasy.

Work wasn’t supposed to be mundane. You were supposed to be constantly thinking. Gears shifting as you tried to catch up with whatever or whoever you were after.

Drug cartels. Sex trafficking. Gang related violence.

It made its way to this board. And you sure as hell always found your way back to it.

The sound of a phone brought you back. The rough voice of your partner cueing in that your team was up to bat.

You looked to Antonio, your arms crossed, half your mind still on the blank panel, for answers.

Even fewer leads sat with him, his face stone cold and unreadable. That was weird. After working together for years, literally saving each others lives (after nearly losing each other one or twice) you could always read Dawson. His quiet demeanor was easy for you to pick up on, you yourself one to speak without words. You thought the time spent wordlessly communicating - either over beers at Molly’s or the barrel of your gun prior to a riot - would help you figure out who was on the other end of the phone.

His eyes met yours, a low ‘mhm’ escaping his lips before he let the receiver clack gently against its holder. “Delivery for you.”

“Screw up your address-”

Ruzek called after you, your last names barely heard as you skipped down the steps to meet whoever was at the cage entrance.

“Didn’t order anything.” You called before lowering your voice. “Especially nothing I’d get sent here.”

Your mind wandered to the Wine of the Month club you just subscribed to, and for a second you started believing Adam that you really had fumbled the address. But upon opening the cage door to see a patrolmen standing with your package, you knew you definitely didn’t mess up.

You told the officer just that, laughing at the sick joke it was. Sergeant Platt was having none of it, yelling up at you (without so much as lifting her gaze from her desk), “Take the goddamn flowers.”

So you did. You awkwardly and begrudgingly, took the goddamn flowers.

The goddamn flowers that had you sneezing upon arriving back in the bullpen.

A low whistle from Kevin was heard despite the allergy response. You didn’t know which one had caught the attention of the entire squad. Honestly, you didn’t know which was worse.

“Nobody give me that look.” You spat, concluding it was neither whistle nor wheeze that had everyone curious. Rather it was you, dressed in dark jeans and an ever darker long sleeved shirt, holding a budding bouquet of bright yellow-

“Are those sunflowers?” Jay asked, leaning closer to take a look.

“Yes.” You huffed, setting down the gift like it was a bomb. That’s what it felt like. Like any second something was going to go off. 3....2...

“Who got you flowers?!?” Adam buzzed, jumping up to peer at the present.

“No one.” You quickly said, hating this. Hating the attention. The attention brought on by some stupid-

“Nice greenery.” Voight said from his classic perch of leaning against the door of his office.

At the sight of your boss you gulped. You were chummy enough with him but knew even he wouldn’t appreciate a dispute over something as stupid as this.

So you took a breath, smiled, and agreed with him. “Yeah, nice.” You peered at the object in question...just like you would a suspect.

Jay called you out on it, coming to look at it beside you. He hip checked you. “Whose it from?”

“Great question.”

“There’s usually a card someone.”

You looked over your shoulder at Antonio whose attention now seemed completely enthralled with his computer. You knew for a fact there was nothing on there of importance. if there was, he wouldn’t be asking about flowers. Flowers you never would have gotten because you wouldn’t be here but rather out on the case that filled that goddamn blank board.

“You a frequent customer of ‘Ode a la Rose’, Dawson?” Ruzek asked, coming up on the other side to look at the business ribbon tied to the vase.

“No.” You titled your head at your partner who quickly avoided eye contact after looking up for a mere second. He clicked away, his mouse suddenly much louder to you. “But I know a bouqet of flowers when I see one.”

That had you rolling your eyes back to the problem at hand.

You really didn’t know where to start, that is until Voight walked right up and plucked the paper envelope from between the....blooms? Was that they were called?

Reading your mind Jay and Ruzek leaned in at the same time, whispering, “Buds.” in your ears.

You sighed, watching them return to their desks before opening up the letter.

You don’t know why you needed a breath but you did. It was all so bizarre. Remembering your boss’ words, the very ones you had agreed with, you concluded it to be nice. Nothing less and nothing more.

The card certified that, its blankness leaving the mystery solved.

“What’s it say?” Kevin asked from across the aisle as you sat down in your chair.

“Nada.” You replied, tossing into the bin at your feet.

“Yeah, right.” Antonio said, standing up and crossing the room. When he went to dive through the can beneath your desk you rolled away, the invasion of space surprising.

What was more surprising, the look of jealousy you swore you saw on his face.

Again, your guess was confirmed when Jay asked if Antonio was jealous somebody else was congratulating me on a case well solved before he could.

You didn’t like what Jay said but it was better than clutching onto a defensive statement with no proof. You were a detective. Couldn’t argue with evidence. And Antonio storming over to dig through trash...pretty convincing.

“I told you, I’ll take a free beer over flowers any day.” Your hand graced your partners arm. It stole his attention from the empty paper he was analyzing, his eyes finding yours for a moment. The way they raced across your face, taking you in like someone he was saving, crushed you.

More than that, it terrified you. Because it seemed to terrify Antonio.

You sneakily took the note from his hand, shaking your head with a light laugh. You were hoping he didn’t notice how forced it was because you really couldn’t sit here one more second with him looking at you like that. Worrying you. Terrifying you.

“It’s all good. Probably just some appreciation for your girl.”

You had stood at this point, reaching around to dump the flowers but your hand was caught. Antonio met your gaze, his tongue quickly wetting his lips in thought. A million things went through his head before he plucked the note from you.

“Keep em. Till I get you that beer.”

You watched him walk away, your eyes tearing away when you heard Adam cracking another joke about how sunflowers resembled your bubbly personality. When you slapped his head in warning you chanced another glance at your partner.

Sauntering down the hall a flash of white caught your eyes.

The once pristine note, white as day, was now crumbled in his hand. You watched it soar into a nearby trashcan, hitting the rim and bouncing onto the floor. The slam of the cage, announcing the exit of your partner, couldn’t even take your eyes away.

----

Molly’s atmosphere would always put you in a good mood. There was nothing like sitting with your colleagues, amongst the other servicemen and women of Chicago, after a long day.

You hadn’t even made it to the bar when Otis called your name, waving you over.

Leaving Ruzek and Kevin to chat it up with some of the Firehouse 51 guys, you made your way through the throngs of people.

“What’s up?” You asked over the cheers of a home run being hit.

“You tell me.” The fireman said, a suggestive tone on his lips.

You turned to your coworkers, now joining you, shrugging your shoulders. Their equally confusing looks send you repeating the action back at him. Even then, its hard to force up your arms in chagrin when theres an icy feeling down your back.

The Russian fireman rolled his eyes before disappearing below the bar. Your head tipped forward to follow only to bounce back at his sudden reappearance. Its not his dark curly hair that scares you, but rahter the bright array of...flowers.

He placed it on the counter with a thud. Identical in nearly every way to the vase gifted to you two days ago, the only difference is that the blossoms have grown. Double the amount of stems sit in the square jar.

The aroma of spring met your nose despite the smells of the bar. Mixed with beer and greasy food, your lunch is prepared to make a reappearance.

But its the sight of Antonio, followed closely by Jay, that sends the meal back down. You have to gulp it down again when he gets closer, the look of anger directed towards the flowers, terrifying you once again.

“You got to be kidding.” Jay mumbled, tracing over the business seal.

“When did you get these?”

“Who delivered them?”

“What’d they say?”

The men around you fire out questions but none of them register. You’re always one to investigate but never before had you been so involved. Never before had you been the lead.

You liked the board empty. You’d take a clear slate and nothing to do over thumbtacking your own picture up any day.

Especially today.

Antonio tried to find your eyes, silently communicate among the raising volume of the bar, but you ignored them. There’s something to be said. But you don’t have the words.

The message envelope does.

You ripped through the flowers, tossing stems and wrecking the beauty of the gift, until you find what you’re looking for.

A gasp escaped your lips once you’ve read it, your head following to hang low.

“What’s it say?” Someone asked. You didn’t catch who, the neatly typed and printed words consuming everything in you.

Someone grabbed it but you release the words into the air before they can be read again.

If you could’ve stopped them you would. No one else should have had to read those chilling words. No one except you.

And your detective friends.

“I scent you this.” You looked up at Antonio, his brows furrowed as they came up from the note. “Can’t wait to watch you wilt.”

“We’ve got a gardener on our hands.”

Your head slowly turned to Otis, innocent and unknowing Otis, who thought it all to be a cute little love note.

You told him it wasn’t.

“More like a weed killer.” A faux smile found your lips right before your eyes found the door, your feet following quickly.

The hot summer air was less of an escape than you’d have hoped. Still, you pushed on, farther from the bar and the noise and the people and everything.

Your arm was caught just before a passing car took you out, sucking you back into the real world.

Antonio’s eyes, the fullest of concern you’d ever seen them, sent you pushing him back. You’d take reality but not from him. Not right now.

“You can’t just leave.”

“Let my pedals fall, won’t you, Dawson?”

“No.” His hands found my arms, my bare skin burning. There was no anger in his action. If anything you were producing the heat, frustrated beyond belief.

Antonio saw it, squeezing gently to bring you back. You couldn’t the strain breath that you released.

“He’s in my head.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“Women don’t send flowers.” You deadpanned. You took a step back upon seeing the rest of your coworkers stirring a few feet away. They held a respectable distance but some things just needed to be said - partner to partner.

And boy were some things about to be said.

Cops had no on and off switch. Their minds were always in investigation mode. You were your lead, your evidence, your victim, your everything.

And you felt like you couldn’t even breathe at the moment.

“Just let me go home.”

“Not with some guy-”

“He’s in my head, man.” The crack in your voice scared you but you pressed down the fear, going straight up to your partner. Chest to chest you tapped a finger on his temple. “He’s in my head and I can’t help it.”

“You’re in his and I can’t help that.” Antonio huffed.

You didn’t know who was more upset with the situation - you or him.

But that’s what partners were for. To have your back. Even when you didn’t have your own.

The thought of Antonio guarding you, unattended and unfocused, had you shaking your head.

It wasn’t right. None of this was.

You told him just that. To which he tried whispering your last name not as your partner but as your friend. You could tell by the way he said your first name...something he never did.

Desperate times, desperate measures.

“Save your detective work for the office.” A choked laugh escaped you as you slipped by him, heading towards Kevin. “Something tells me this is just poor planning on some gardener’s part.”

The flower puns had been over ages ago. They never really had a place at all.

But again....desperate times, desperate measures. Dark humor was your desperation.

You plucked the flowers from Adam’s arms, meeting his eyes with a nod.

You heard Jay say your name but it was no use. If Antonio couldn’t get through to you, it’d take Voight. And your boss never frequented this establishment at this hour.

Like you would hear him over the buzzing. You wanted to believe a bee was enjoying your unexpected gift but you knew that wasn’t true. The only thing ringing was your heart, beating faster than ever before.

You turned on your heel, only dropping your “I’ve Got It All Together” smile when you threatened them not to follow you. It wasn’t until you got home did it all fall apart, the vase crashing to the ground. The only reason you didn’t hear it was because of Antonio’s voice in your head.

“I can’t help that.”

He meant it like he couldn’t help but worry.

But combined with the concern he radiated, you thought your suspicions to be true.

He couldn’t help. No one could.

----

Your hand hurt from clutching your gun in your sleep.

At the thought of how pathetic that was, you flexed your fingers before shaking them out to study the card.

The wording, the gift, everything, really nothing, made sense.

You had racked your brain for cases that it could connect to. It wasn’t uncommon to be tracked down by former...clients.

Your job was to put people in jail. Jail wasn’t always a life long sentence. Finding you, the person who’d put them there, could possibly be a life long commitment.

The knock of your door made you freeze. You weren’t able to pinpoint a crime that could lead to threats in the form of flowers but you were able to recognize that knock anywhere.

A confirmation through the peephole had you standing with your hand on your hip as Antonio walked into your apartment.

He rambled on and on, jumping between the points of the mysterious flower deliveries and how there was no way you were going to let him stop from figuring this out. On a tangent about your lack of respect to the Senior Detective of the unit (a title he only used when he wanted authority) you wrapped your arms around him.

Suddenly your outburst against the second in command didn’t matter, his own arms looping around your lower back.

“You look like shit for having slept in your car outside my place.”

His chuckle vibrated through you - the sound the most pleasant thing you had heard since entering Molly’s over 12 hours ago. Since then it had been your partner yelling at you and the eery silence of your apartment.

Neither were a match for Antonio’s laugh.

Which, speaking of, quickly died out as he gave you a once over. You could hear the quip on the tip of his tongue, how the bags under your eyes made him think you spent the night in the passenger seat, but it never came.

All that stayed was the worry in his eyes. You wiped your hands over them, forcing them closed. “Don’t look at me like that.” You whispered.

Without moving he replied, “When this is fixed, I’ll stop.”

“Then keep them closed.” You headed toward the couch, heaving a sigh and setting your head on the wall. “I can’t figure it out.”

“What do you think I’m here for?” You felt the couch dip beside you, the weight shifting as Antonio looked over the files sprawled on your coffee table. After a moment you joined him, your eyes quickly glazing over at the papers you’d practically memorized.

“Had he sent some blood or common drug I would’ve pinned him.” You waved a hand over the evidence. “I’ve got nothing.”

“You have to, or else you wouldn’t know who he was.”

“Antonio, I don’t-”

“You do.” He interrupted, a hand finding your knee. He’s quick to remove it, clearing his throat and referencing the table again. “We’re cops. We know more than we think.”

You sighed, wanting to agree but not seeing enough evidence to do so.

Flowers. Scents. Spring.

You were linking the whole ordeal to cotton candy (somehow) when someone else knocked on the door. You didn’t even bother standing, knowing Antonio (who had been on watch all night) wouldn’t let you answer it.

So you weren’t surprised at all when he returned, the rest of the squad entering.

“Still picking petals?” Kevin asked.

“He kills you, he kills you not.”

Adam’s joke impressed no one, his hands flying up defensively. “We not in the mood for jokes or what?”

“We’re not.” Voight’s voice run out strong. It both reassured you and frightened you. This all was so odd. How everyone was here. Except the guy tracking you down.

“No jokes when one of our own is on the line.”

“Line.” You mumbled, the word sticking with you.

“What is it?” Jay asked, crouching down in front of you. It was his classic, “witness remembers something” action, which you didn’t appreciate. There was no time to blow him off, tell him you weren’t a victim in this, because you were just getting somewhere.

Antonio caught on, shoving Jay away for you.

You didn’t even need to say thanks, silently communicating it without as so much as a look.

“What did you say Adam?” You stood, heading towards your bookcase.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to repeat-”

“Say it again.” You insisted turning from the shelf for a mere moment to give him a look. “Please.” You said, your tone lighter.

“He kills you, he kills you not?” He mused, avoiding eye contact with Voight.

“That’s a bad line, man.” You heard Kevin say under his breathe.

“Exactly.” You excited, grabbing the book you were looking for.

“Exactly what?” Antonio came up beside you, his eeys darting between the page and your face. You said nothing - out loud or silently - which he impatiently couldn’t wait for. “Exactly what?”

“Exactly this.” You pointed to the page. “He loves me, he loves me not.”

Confusion and what appeared to be fear raced across Antonio’s face. Jay asked if you could fill him in before you got a chance to question your partner’s response to your revelation.

“It’s a line.”

“We know.” Voight said.

“A line from a case.” You went on to say, heading back toward the table. “There was a guy at the University of Chicago, posed as an English major, sucked girls with the whole ‘I’ll read you poetry’ thing.”

Papers were flying everywhere and Kevin was trying to keep them in order, that is till Antonio started digging with you.

“I know this one. He brought girls in and then,”

“Raped and murdered them. Leaving nothing but a note that said,”

“He loves me, he loves me NOT,” Voight answered, remembered. the case he handed over to you and Antonio.

“He definitely did not.” You stood, file in hand. “He left that line and-”

“A flower.”

You looked up to Antonio, his gaze pointed at the pile of what was your second bouquet, sitting in the dustpan where you left it when you couldn’t bring yourself to throw it out.

His eyes found yours after a moment and you couldn’t help but smile. You had solved it.

Of course, you had solved it three years ago.

Jay reminded you of that point when he took a look at the report.

“The clues he’s leaving aren’t keeping him too well hidden. Why send the cop who put you away flowers?” Kevin spectated.

“Paid in cash.” Adam added, rubbing his chin in thought. “Might want a chase.”

“Who leaves a calling card like that and wants a chase?” Voight pondered.

“He’s not the one being chased.” You said, the room quieting from the many guesses being vocalized. “I am.”

The knock of the door piqued everyone’s interest, each head whipping towards it. Then you all looked at each other. No one else who needed to be here wasn’t.

Antonio connected those dots first, undoing his gun from its holster and walking towards the door.

It was no point for him to ask who was there. You already knew.

You just made it to see the delivery boy, eyes wide as Antonio pointed the barrel at him.

You took the smallest of steps forward, further intimating the boy and causing the vase to drop. Triple the size of the first one, flowers spewed everywhere, a white card sliding across the floor to your feet.

You bent down, opened it and read it silently. When you looked back up at Antonio you couldn’t help the words that escaped.

“He’s not asking to be found. He’s already picked me out from the bunch.”

----

I wanna smell you. Just you. You don’t bloom, you lose it all.

The last part of the note didn’t need to be repeated in your head. Not when you were there right at that moment.

Lurie Garden looked beautiful on the Spring Saturday. Lavender wafted through the air and all colors spread through the field. The Bean was barely visible over the high walls. If you stood in the penny fountain you wouldn’t have been able to see 20 feet into the greenery. Not with the spurts of bushes that traveled higher and higher the further into the season.

3 Pm was peak time. Little kids ran around, parents following quickly. You had spotted more than one older couple, walking through the fields to literally smell the roses.

Like on every other OP, you thought of if you’d get there. Make it through this.

Good cops were good people. And no good person walked into a dangerous situation without playing with the idea that they wouldn’t see the light of the next day.

Your eyes found the sun, beating down on you. When you couldn’t take it any longer your refocused, finding the very couple that sparked your philosophical train fo thought. A green ring formed around them from the light exposure. They looked angelic. Happy. Perfect.

“Everything looks perfect.”

You toed the gravel, Ruzek’s voice loud and clear in your ear piece. No one had said much the last 15 minutes you spent waiting for your guest.

Mark Cameron, ever the ‘fake’ student, was running late for class.

Only you would be penalized, though, if you slipped up.

The kid, no college graduate, was still smart. When you’d busted him he had a barely alive girl in his arms. When unarming you he called out every weapon.

Hence your lack of protection right now.

No gun. No knife. You didn’t even have the pin you wore for highly specialized ops, its edge sharper than any pocketknife you could’ve snuck into your pant leg.

“You’re going to be fine.”

You turned halfway before stopping yourself. Antonio’s voice hadn’t come form your ear piece but rather behind you. Posing as a fellow garden goer, he stood the other way, admiring the monkshood you just looked at (15 minutes had given you plenty of time to read up on the plants. That and you needed something to do other than wait).

He was effortless when it came to undercover ops. So it took everything in you not to tell him he was blowing it. Cameron could show up any second. Antonio knew this. Never one to break protocol it wasn’t right to see him doing just that.

“Let’s hope.” You breathed, bending down to smell.

“He’s not in your head. I can’t help you if you’re in yours.”

You didn’t respond - not knowing what to say as well as gettin interrupted by COMMS.

“Cameron just entered the North East corner.”

Kevin went on giving description - jean jacket, information packet in hand, etc. - but you didn’t care.

You remembered that sweet couple without a care in the world and you needed to see Antonio once more. You needed to believe him he’d help. You needed your partner.

“Thought you might need this, honey.”

Cameron’s voice was icy in your ear. You fought the urge to grimace, instead smiling up at him and accepting the garden sheet he was extending to you.

“Thanks. Was dying to know what smelled so bad.”

“So you say.” He whispered directly into your ear piece. “What do they think?”

Jay mumbling something foulw as cut off as Cameron picked apart the tech. You couldn’t help but slam your ear into your shoulder, his touch radiating goosebumps off of you. The exposed movement was worth it when you caught no sight of Antonio - who had thankfully cleared the area.

There was no one in your row. No one you could really see either with the sloped ground and the high stalks of greenery.

You hoped your team had you. You knew they did. It was just hard to believe when you didn’t have yourself.

Cameron had found you. Found a way into your work and your bar and your home. More than that, he found his way into your head. And Antonio would never admit it but Cameron got into his too.

Partners. Had each other’s backs but also had each others brains.

You hoped Antonio’s wasn’t as corrupted as your felt right now.

“I told you to come alone.”

The stomp of his foot on the ear piece emitted a high pitched frequency just loud enough for you to catch.

Your lips formed a straight line as you told yourself not to panic. Something about you being the target made this op different. You cared about victims more than you did yourself - evident in the way you put your life on the line.

But this...this focus on you, on your friends, made breaking up a drug cartel seem like heaven.

Being here, with Cameron, even in a beautiful field of flowers, was actual hell.

“You know, I’d make some cruel joke about no flower growing alone but I don’t think you’d appreciate that.”

Cameron pretended to weigh the options. Coming to a decision a sick smile grazed his face before his hand found your hip. It hurt, a pressure point being hit, but you didn’t let it show.

“Good choice. Makes you love you a bit more.”

His eyes wandered to the flower I was still gripping, its orange petals crumpling with the tense hold I had on it. His own hands found one near by, picked it and brought it up to my nose. His brows raised, asking me to pluck a petal. I did as told just as he said, “Or love you not.”

“Sir!”

You spun around to the voice, only having his hand grip into you harder at the sight of a park ranger approaching.

“You can’t pick the flowers, sir.”

“My fault!” Cameron chuckled, his neck settling on your shoulder. Again, he put more force than necessary, your collarbone taking the brunt of it. “My girlfriend here wanted to see if I still loved her not. You know the rhyme.”

The ranger gave a tight smile, clearly weary. She shook off the feeling, going back into work mode. “I’m going to have to write you a warning.”

“Ma’am-”

You attempt at reconciliation was lost as Cameron pressed his hand and neck harder into you - equal points of pain rolling through. He was all bone and it hurt like hell.

“That won’t be necessary,” He leaned forward, bringing you with him. “Jan.”

“Sir, it’s policy of the park not to-”

“It’s-”

This was going all sorts of wrong.

No ear piece. This ranger. A much more aggriavted Cameron than you wanted.

Maybe this was it. Your final chance to smell the roses.

“You need to leave, now.” Th ranger said, summoning the most authority she could in her voice. Cop or not you could see her wavering.

You could also see a crowd forming. Nothing interested tourists quite like a public conflict.

“I said, no.”

“Sir!”

The ranger stepped forward, clutching what you assumed was a baton.

Cameron, ever one to see something for more dangerous than it was, though it a gun, and was quick to pull his own out.

Where else could it go than up against your head.

He held a firm choke hold, tossing you around as you showed the neely joined audience exactly what you had. It was all it took for your team to come out, their own guns blazing.

Screams. People running. Dust picking up.

You wished for the smallest deliver of flowers. No mess. No note.

This was so much worse.

You stayed strong, though. You knew there was more coming.

“All so protective of your girl when a guy sends some roses, huh?” Cameron asked Kevin and Ruzek, whipping you around to talk to both of them.

“Put the gun down.”

“Let her go.”

Now you understood why no hostage felt safe in this moment. Guns pointed at you. Words their first line of defense.

This wasn’t help, you wanted to tell Antonio. This was a placeholder for help.

“Yeah, right.” Cameron snarled. His nose inhaled your scalp, posseviley claiming you. “She smells like mine.”

Threats were repeated. Voight and Al and Jay appeared. All who was missing was your partner.

And without your partner you weren’t you.

You closed your eyes, hating this. Hating this because it wasn’t right. Antonio should be here. Having your back. Helping.

So you did what any cop would do. You proved you were than just your partner or your team or your badge.

You opened your eyes, now facing the fountain just a few rows ahead. In it you barely saw your reflection. if the image of you being held wasn’t enough to spark something, the shadowy person just past you was.

In one swift moment you hit Cameron’s instep, freed your hand, twisted his shooting hand, which caused him to fire into the fields, and threw him over your back, made him hit the ground and had you pinning him down.

The next thing you knew there was a gun, another one, pointed mere inches from his face. You didn’t need to look up the leather jacket arm to know who it was. So you didn’t. Not until Kevin stood Cameron up and Ruzek handcuffed him.

That’s when you turned to Antonio. Fell into his arms. Breathed the scent of the flowers for the first time.

He whispered encouragement to you, assuring you were fine, saying how horrible that guy would suffer.

None of it mattered. All that mattered was him. You were ready to say that after you pulled back to look at him when his eyes found the ground. With you still firmly held in his arms he reached down, a cheap connivence store bouquet of flowers in his hands.

You couldn’t help the choked laugh that escape you

“Thought this might be better than the beer. Ya know, for catching the guy.”

You accepted the gift that had fallen out of Cameron’s grasp, tilting your head. “Yeah, but you helped.”

Antonio shrugged, forcing the flowers out of your hand as he brought you closer.

“I can’t help it.”

The End.

#antonio dawson #antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson fanfiction #chicago pd #hank voight #jay halstead #kevin altwater #adam ruzek

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bump1nthen1ght · 4 years ago

Text

Sick Day (Demon x Reader)

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader/ Non-Binary Demon

Genre: Urban fantasy, Domesticity, Established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of sickness (fevers, body chills, headaches), but nothing graphic

Word Count: 2008 words

Summary: Your demon partner isn’t sure how to play doctor

A/N: Based of this prompt by @monsterkinkmeme

“It’s the first time you’ve dated a demon and it’s also the first time you’ve gotten sick since you’ve been together. A fever paired with a throbbing headache has you hiding in bed for most of the day, trying to sleep whatever bug you caught, off. Your demon lover, on the other hand, is beside themselves and has turned to Google and WebMD on how best to take care of you. They now think you are dying because of your symptoms and are devising a way to save you.”

The minute I saw this prompt I was immediately awash with PINING for a large demon partner to cuddle with and I knew I had to write it.

A week after finals, 7 months into your relationship with Motholg, your immune system gives up.

You had been leaving work, thinking the heat in your cheeks and the ache in your bones was a product of a 6 hour shift, walking to Motholg’s apartment for date night. The past two week had you cooped up, anxious and studying, meaning you barely were able to make time for your partner.

You probably should have expected it, it’s happened every finals week since high school; A couple days into break you get a high fever and are stuck in your bed for a solid 48 hours. But you thought that, perhaps, this year was the exception. After nearly passing out when handing Motholg their fresh-made lasagna, you knew you weren’t so lucky.

“Darling?”

You groan from your blanket burrito, eyes and sweaty forehead barely peeking into the dim light of Motholg’s bedroom. The thought of forming a coherent thought makes your brain pound, so you don’t even try.

“I’ve made you some...uh…”

The door creaks open, Motholg automatically ducking their head so their long horns don’t hit the frame. Their red, slitted eyes narrow at something steaming in a teacup. “Yas-mine? Jasmeen? Uh-some herbal remedy I ordered from your virtual shopkeep. It was touted by several women named “Brenda” to be the best thing for human illnesses.” Motholg’s hooves tap against the floor, just below the line of “too loud” for your migraine. You give another non-committal hum as they sit down on the bed. Despite being custom-made for their 7-foot stature, the bedframe still creaks under their weight. The top of your blanket sarcophagus is pulled back, revealing your disgruntled face.

Motholg helps you prop yourself up and hands you the teacup. You take a sip, quickly realizing it’s still quite hot, but power through anyway. The scalding water melts from your mouth down to your toes, abating your shivers, if only temporarily.

As you drink, Motholg’s fingers card through your messy hair, massaging your skull before resting their palm on your cheek. Their hand covers almost the entire side of your head, spotting a glimpse of a frown between their fingers.

“You’re even hotter than before and still quite sweaty. Would you like me to take the blankets?”

You shake your head, setting down your cup of tea.

“No, it’s probably just my fever breaking. It’s actually a good sign, despite how shitty I feel.” The warmth of your cocoon is beckoning you, your exposed chest and arms already shivering. “The blankets are good for my chills, but a big glass of ice water would be nice.”

Motholg raises an eyebrow, clearly perturbed by your backwards human symptoms. But they pat your head once more before sitting up.

“Of course, dear.” Motholg leans down to kiss your forehead, but is intercepted by the palm of your hand.

“Uh-uh, I don’t need you getting sick too.” Motholg scrunches up their face, then blows a raspberry into your skin. You retaliate by pushing away their face feebly.

“As if your human illness could fell me darling.” The sigh dramatically, pushing your hand away. “Though you are very sweet to think it could.”

You stick out your tongue and shove them. Motholg relents, blowing a kiss as they back out of the bedroom.

Your brain is beginning to drift into sleep when a glass clinks on the nightstand. Not bothering to open your eyes, far too tired, you mutter a “Thank you.” Motholg whispers a “You’re welcome,” as they lay on the bed once more. Their warm fur tickles your neck as they cuddle up behind you, arm thrown around your side and nuzzling their face into your hair. A hot breath and a slight nip of their extended canines only wills you to dreamland faster.

Motholg won’t go to sleep, only needing a full 8 hours every 4 days, but are rather content to lay beside you. They lovingly stroke your arm and sidle farther down under the comforter, whispering occasional sweet nothings and rocking you into unconsciousness.

--------

The dull red of the bedside clock pries open your eyes, a stark contrast compared to the pitchblack of the bedroom. Your brain is still in a fog, but given then the 3 AM flashing nearby, you’ve been asleep for about 9 hours.

And I’m about to sleep 9 more.

Motholg had left the bed at some point, but their warmth still lingers on the blankets. You close your eyes and snuggle in.

Slam!

But then the door slams open.

On a normal night, the noise might’ve jerked you upright , but your eyes simply roll over to the doorway. Your brain already misses unconsciousness.

Motholg stands, their new smartphone in hand as they breathe heavily.

“Darling, what did you say your body temperature was?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, slowly giving up on those peaceful 9 hours.

“99.7 last time I checked.” You tap your forehead with the back of your hand. “Probably less now. The sleep has been helping a lot. Good night.”

In an instant, Motholg is over to the bed, placing their hand on your forehead. You let out a disappointed sigh and try to go back to sleep anyways. The click of their hooves on hardwood, Motholg’s jittering shakes of your shoulder, and the strong smell of iron quickly eliminates that as a possibility.

You turn towards your partner, now noticing the sheen of liquid covering their hands. Red streaks follow their fingertips on their smartphone.

“Babe, why are your hands soaked in blood?”

“Goat’s blood, technically.”

Before you can even respond to that baffling answer, Motholg grabs your shoulder. The blood sticks to the short sleeves of your pajamas.

Damn, now I’ll have to wash this tomorrow.

“Here, it says the ritual-”

“The what?”

“-needs to be completed at 3:30 AM on a new moon.” Motholg pauses, checks their phone, then continues, “Yes, a new moon.”

Motholg begins to walk away, your arm still in their grip, but your resistance stalls them.

“Okay, Motholg, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? How the hell did you get goat’s blood at this hour?”

Motholg sighs and rolls their eyes, “Unimportant-”

You give Motholg a dissatisfied look, finally making them relent in heir tirade. They turn towards you.

“I fear for your life. I’ve consulted your online physician and your symptoms fall in line with many fatal illnesses.”

Now accepting that this is officially a conversation, you throw back your blankets and sit up.

“Do you mean WebMD?”

Motholg nods furiously and shows you their phone screen, tapping the glass with a long claw.

“See here? Full body chills are associated with pneumonia, so is a high fever. There’s also the possibility something is wrong with one of your organs. Not surprising, considering how squishy they are.” Motholg flicks their screen upward, a myriad of diagrams flips across it.

“Now, I know a couple of ceremonies my father used to perform to curse others with these illnesses, so I thought if I reversed the procedure-” Motholg pauses again, flipping to a new tab on their phone, “-So, I did some googling-”

Motholg pauses when your hand rests against their cheek. Their red eyes, which glow just slightly in the dark, look to you. You brush your thumb across their face, just barely grazing against the fur which starts at the base of their neck.

“Darling, I appreciate the concern really, I do. But these websites…” you pause, slowly pushing Motholg’s phone down and out of eyesight, “They really only show worst case scenarios. Honestly, they kind of just scare you into going to a doctor in person.”

Motholg’s eyes dart between your face and their phone, now pressed face down on their bed. They give off an aura of anxiety and stress, their hands fidgety and their hooves lightly tapping against the floor. “Here,” You pull up the covers, opening up the spot next to you. “Do you want to lie down with me for a while?”

“Oh, I don’t need to rest.”

“Just because your body doesn’t require it doesn't mean it won’t feel good. C’mon.” You pat the bed. “I think it will give you some peace of mind, keeping an eye on me.”

Motholg’s eyes shifted back to their phone, their brow furrowed. You pout your lips and slide your fingers up their chest. Their fur sticks and tussles under your touch.

“Babe, I would feel better if you relax, seriously.” You reach down to the bedside drawer, pulling out your sleep mask. “You can even bring your computer and get some work done.”

Hesitantly, they nod. You sigh in relief. Their hand unconsciously twirls your hair.

“I suppose….You would know about these things.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Motholg leaves to get their things, while you slip back under the covers. Before you put your sleep mask on, you shout to them.

“Make sure to wash that blood off!” You look down at your damp sleeve. “And could you get me a wet wipe as well?”

Motholg makes an affirmative noise, and you finally lay back and close your eyes.

Their body heat lingers above your as they sweetly wipe away the blood on your arm. You mutter a thank you. The bed dips as they down next to you, mattress bending as they adjust their laptop and fluff the pillows.

“Darling?”

“Hmmm?” You murmur, face still stuffed in your pillow.

“I just wanted to apologize for waking you. I feel very foolish for acting so paranoid.”

You flip your head to their side, keeping your mask on.

“No need to apologize, I get it.”

“Thank you for your understanding, but still, I feel so silly. To think a tiny sickness would force my emotions to overcome me.”

You slowly push up your mask, eyes peeking out from under the duvet. Motholg sheepishly picks at their keyboard, avoiding your eyes,

As disgruntled as it made you at first, Motholg’s droopy gaze stirred guilt in your gut. You wonder how many scenarios had run through their head while they googled, how helpless they must’ve felt. There might be a hole paced into the floor of the living room, given how flustered they were when they barged in.

You reach out to Motholg’s wrist, brushing your thumb over the back of their palm. Their red irises look over, and you think you see the tinies remnants of tear tracks at the corner of their eyes.

“Emotions aren’t a bad thing, they’re natural.” Grabbing the top of the blanket, you roll over to Motholg’s side. Their large body dwarfs yours and when you curl up against them, the tips of your feet barely meet the top of their calves. Their black fur is soft against your face, like a mixture of a plush carpet and a goosefeather pillow.

Oh good, they used the Tea Tree soap.

“I’d probably do the same if you got sick.” You reach your hand up to their chest, cording through their thick fur. “We’re just gonna have to trust the other’s okay, huh?”

With your chin tucked into their ribs, Motholg smiles down at you. A claw runs up the back of your neck, stirring up goosebumps but relaxing your muscles.

“I believe so, darling.” Their fangs jut out from their lips as they continue to rub your neck. It’s quite goofy looking, for a demon, and gets a chuckle out of you.

You crane your neck and Motholg meets you halfway for a kiss, consequences be damned.

“Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetling.”

You fall asleep with Motholg’s fingers curled in your hair, the slight tap of their claws on the keys, a simmering contentment in your heart.

--------

A week later, when you’re back to full health, you and Motholg are making dinner when-

“Ah-choo!”

You stop stirring the pasta and furrow your brows at Motholg. They’ve stilled, mid-movement while setting out the plates. Their face burns with embarrassment.

“A silly human sickness, huh?”

#monster romance #my writing #demon x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #monster/reader #fluff #domestic #monster x reader

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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

Text

Knitting You a Home - 2

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 3k

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: None.

Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

June 2019

The ringing of the overhead bell captured your attention, whisking you out of your memories. With a forced smile, you looked up from where you pricing the bamboo knitting needles to greet the customers.

You recognized the two women as regulars who frequently came to your shop for supplies or to add to their yarn addiction. “Hi Carol, hey Tammy, how are you ladies today?”

“Doing fine,” Tammy answered. Carol disappeared to the back of the store where the larger displays of yarn were kept. Yup. Adding to their yarn addiction was on the menu for them today. “Is your grandmother here?”

Chuckling, you added another package of needles to the wire basket you had sitting on the stool next to you. “In the back fawning over the Mongolian Cashmere yarn.”

“Are you talking about the Jade Sapphire brand of Mongolian Cashmere?” Tammy’s eyes widened, leaning closer to you as she held onto the counter.

With a serious nod, you fought back the urge to smile. “The very one.”

“What colors?”

“Moonstone, Red Light District, Ivory, Perugia, and Umbrian Sky.”

Tammy gasped, her hand coming up to clutch her chest. “You only had three colors last time.”

It never ceased to amaze you how die hard some of the women who came into the shop were for the yarn, especially the luxury yarn that you sold. The conversation didn’t last much longer, and it was with a smile that you watched Tammy scurry her way to Carol and whisper in her ear, the two of them high tailing to go find your Grandmother.

While you had your own love and passion for the age-old hobby of knitting – so much that you went into business with your Grandmother to open your own shop, Second Gen Knitters – you weren’t about to go spending fifty dollars on a single hank of yarn. Not only would your bank account cry, but Namjoon would most likely choke on whatever you fed him in an attempt to break the news.

Sighing, you stuck a label on another pair of needles, taking a moment to look around the store. The teal carpet stood out from the hardwood floor, and the mahogany bookcases that lined the walls gleamed from being dusted earlier that morning. On a large square table in the middle of the front room were wicker baskets displaying smaller hanks of colorful sock yarn, and a decorative black wrought iron stand that stood out among the bright colors, held up a sign you had painstakingly painted to display the prices.

In the corner to the left near the windows, was a sitting area with matching teal couches and chair along with a mini coffee table. A various group of knitting, country lifestyle, and People magazines were neatly spread out, completely ignored by the group of husbands that sat there on their phones, letting their wives go about and shop.

It always amused you when a couple would enter the shop and after only a few moments the husband would hightail it to the sitting area, leaving the wife completely unsurprised.

Namjoon never outright said anything, but every time he saw that area filled and he was in the shop, he made a habit of making faces in their direction to amuse you. Whenever you went on your own knitting shopping spree, he would join you and help to make decisions if you were stuck between colors or how many you needed to complete a project. Especially when what was being made was for him, he was there to give his input on colors and textures.

The summer weather made it too warm for the scarves and sweaters that Namjoon loved to wear, but it was perfect to sit down and knit away so he’d be able to wear them in the fall.

As much as you loved him, these last few weeks had your mind spinning with his strange behavior. When Hoseok’s life had gotten turned upside down, Namjoon had become extra protective of you. While the possibility of what happened between Hoseok and his mate would happen to Namjoon and you were highly unlikely, the instinct for him to be there and watch over you was too strong for him to suppress.

You hadn’t minded it, especially when his physical affection increased greatly. But it’d be a lie to say that you weren’t affected by what happened, even if you were barely involved in the situation. It was one of those things that buried itself deep in your mind, forcing you to think about it even when you didn’t want to.

It was different for the two of you though. You weren’t just his Mate, but it was your name written on his Adoption papers.

Life had begun to go back to normal when Hoseok and Sarah were finally reunited, but then they dropped another bomb. Hoseok had signed a contract with a dance company in Seoul and at the end of the month, he was leaving for a year to tour with a professional team made up of elite dancers from all around the world. While you had been stunned by the announcement and how long he was to be gone for, you were ecstatic for your friend to pursue his dreams.

But then, Namjoon changed again.

As the days inched closer to Hoseok’s departure, Namjoon had grown quieter, and surprisingly, withdrawn. The extra affection had declined along with his usual amount. While he was naturally a quiet person, he always managed to start up a conversation and keep it going for hours, but something had flipped inside him and he was barely able to keep one going. Now it was you who was randomly hugging him while out in public or crawling between his legs when you saw him reading on the couch. He never turned your affection down, but he wasn’t seeking it out either.

The bell rang out again, but you didn’t look up as you were in the middle of counting how many needles you already had labeled. If the goal number was met, then you’d be able to put the rest back in the storage room for now.

“Hey Angel.”

The corner of your mouth curled up at the soft and familiar voice calling out his pet name for you, abruptly dropping the needles back into the basket to turn and face him.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow as he looked at the basket, a teasing grin appearing as he leaned against the counter. “Isn’t that important?”

“Not as important as you,” you sweetly answered, smiling as you watched Namjoon duck his head. It was absolutely cheesy, but it worked like magic to make him happy.

“Shut up,” he murmured, handing you a coffee before taking a sip out of his own.

Grateful for the caffeine, you tapped the white recycled cup that’s only design was the black lettering that spelt out, Kim Seokjin’s Café in cursive. “I thought you had work today?”

“Lunch break,” Namjoon answered, his ears twitching as he glanced around the shop. “I thought you might want a cup, and the bus stop just happens to be conveniently near your store.”

You hummed in agreement, leaning back to look in the direction of where your Grandmother was. Well, in the direction that you heard her voice coming from. Even from the front, you were able to hear her explaining how to do a cable stitch to someone.

“How’s your day been though?” You asked, gesturing for him to come around the counter with you. At least his little visits hadn’t stopped. They were a habit he started not long after moving in with you and when he saw how much you looked forward to them, made it a point to come by when he was able to during the day.

He held onto his cup a little tighter, not wanting to spill a single drop as he maneuvered his way around the counter. The space was small and even as you moved the wire basket and stool out of his way, he didn’t seem to relax until he set his cup on the counter. “Good. We’re working with a rapper this time. He’s really hands on with the album, which is amazing considering the last artist we--”

“Oh, Namjoon!” your Grandmother called out.

Teasingly rolling your eyes, you grinned as she came out from the back, her glasses on the bridge of her nose when she held her arms out to bring Namjoon in for a hug, despite the fact that he was easily a foot and a half taller than her.

“Hey Ma, how are you?”

“I’m good sweetheart.”

Without even looking, you were willing to bet that his dimples were showing. Grandmother just had a certain way about her that made it impossible for anyone to not be happy around her.

You leaned backwards against his Namjoon’s chest out of habit when he came back, feeling the gentle vibrations coming from him as he wrapped his arms around your waist in a loose hug. The gesture, while small, had you relaxing even more so. This was the majority of any affection the two of you had been sharing lately.

The moment would have been more enjoyable had you paid attention to the conversation that your Grandmother was having with Namjoon, but you had glanced around the store out of habit. You didn’t want anyone to feel ignored in case they had a question about a product, needed assistance with a project, or simply was ready to check out.

She was looking at the sock yarn at the table across from the counter. An older woman with a wire basket resting on her elbow. It was with experienced eyes that you noticed two of the Jade Sapphira hands sitting in there, and in her hands was some blue sock yarn, but she wasn’t looking at that. Matter of fact, her gaze was focused on you, but it was too low to be an attempt to capture your attention.

To someone who didn’t understand anything about Hybrids, the scar on your neck appeared to be the result of a painful accident. In reality, it was the exact opposite. The scar was your Mate Mark, the very one that you treasured when Namjoon had given it to you almost a year ago, sealing the bond between you as Mates for the rest of your lives.

The old woman stared at the Mate Mark, her gaze flicking towards Namjoon to see the wolf ears on top of his head, then down to his tail that was carefully wagging behind him.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” Grandmother suddenly spoke, stealing your attention as she walked towards the woman who had been staring. “But I couldn’t help but notice you’d been looking at this young man, and while my son-in-law is not for sale, we do have some great patterns in the back that have almost as equally handsome young male models on them.”

Your heart nearly stopped as she led the old woman away and to the back, internally dying at her antics but grateful for them at the same time. Embarrassment had your cheeks feeling warm, and with Namjoon’s body shaking from holding back his laughter, you covered your face with your hands when the women were out of sight.

With the exception of the chuckles slipping out, he was quiet as he tightened his arms around you, leaning down to gently kiss at your Mate Mark. While you had only been able to see her stares, Namjoon had been able to sense the woman’s distaste the second she saw him hugging you.

“She’s a closed-minded old woman,” he softly murmured in your ear, hoping to ease your hands away from your face. “Who is currently having to deal with an upset Ma right now, and I think that’s punishment enough.”

Like always, your skin tingled each time he kissed the mark, the sensation coursing throughout your body even after you lowered your hands. “That doesn’t mean I like her,” you muttered.

Namjoon simply chuckled, settling for kissing your neck again. Normally, you would have let him have his fun before teasing him to stop, reasoning that you were at work and the last thing you wanted to do was make anyone uncomfortable with all the affection. But you didn’t stop him this time. This was perhaps the most affection that he had given out since Hoseok’s career announcement, and you weren’t the one having to initiate it.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, sliding your hands over his until you were hugging his arms. It had felt like forever since you last shared such a sweet moment with Namjoon. All you wanted was to make it last, because if tonight was anything like it has been for last several weeks, he wouldn’t be home before midnight again.

Despite your silent wishes, Namjoon lifted his head and kissed your cheek once before resting his chin on top of your head.

“I know,” he softly murmured back, his arms wrapping around you further in an attempt to bring you closer. “I miss you too.”

Your heart dropped however, and you stared at the packaging of the knitting needles you had been counting, wishing that it didn’t feel like there was sea separating you from Namjoon these days.

“Will you be late coming home again?”

He closed his eyes, signing as he kissed the side of your head. Able to sense you true feelings, he knew that you already had the answer. “I’m sorry Angel.”

Pressing your lips together, you gently squeezed his hand. “Will Yoongi be there?”

“Yoongi practically lives there,” he joked, kissing your mark once more before finally pulling back. “I should get going, the bus will be here soon.”

His hand slid down to your lower back before disappearing completely as he walked around the counter, leaving you feeling cold and alone.

It was reassuring to know that Yoongi was going to be with him, but with all the hours he’s been spending at work, it was becoming impossible to recall the times that he was at home. Most nights he was only getting home after you crawled into bed, and having gotten used to Namjoon hugging you to his chest while the two of you slept, sleeping without him wasn’t easy. A majority of the time you found yourself playing on your phone for an hour or so before ditching it in an attempt to get some sleep, but then you’d be woken up at the touch of his arms sliding around your body as he slipped under the covers with a kiss to your neck, coaxing you back to sleep.

Stolen moments and gentle kisses were the most romantic the two of you were getting these days.

As much as you loved them, it all reminded you of the early days of your relationship, and as he withdrew in on himself, you couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with you. Had the relationship become too much of a routine? Were you becoming predictable? Was he no longer attracted to you?

Like she knew that she was needed, Grandmother once again came back to the front, this time without the old woman following her. “Heading back out Namjoon?”

Namjoon nodded as he leaned down to give her a hug, his arms carefully wrapping around your Grandmother like he thought she was fragile and was afraid that he’d break her. Which wasn’t unrealistic, considering all the dishes that he’s broken in the last year.

“Yes, I need to catch the bus to get back to work.”

“You need to get yourself a driver’s license hun,” Grandma teased, rubbing Namjoon’s back before tilting her head to kiss his cheek.

As they parted from their hug, you smiled at seeing the light blush on his cheeks for a brief moment, any worries disappearing for the time being.

“I like taking the bus Ma,” Namjoon teased, pulling out of her embrace to lean against the counter for a moment. “It’s relaxing and lets me clear my thoughts.”

“You can clear your thoughts at home you know,” Grandma pointed out, her eyes crinkling at the corner. “I’m not getting any younger, and to be able to hold my great-grandbabies is a dream I want to see come true.”

Once again you felt your cheeks heating up, the sound of her laughter echoing as she left the two of you alone again. Ever since you told her that you were Namjoon’s Mate, she made sure to hint around about grandkids whenever the moment struck her.

“I love her I do…” Namjoon murmured, reaching his hand out for yours to hold.

“But she drives us nuts.” You supplied, smiling up at him.

He nodded, his own embarrassed smile appearing to be permanent while displaying his dimples for you. “Okay, I really have to get going or I’ll be late. I love you Angel.”

Your smile softened as he held your hand to his lips, his fingers squeezing your palm quickly. “I love you too Namjoon.”

He didn’t stay much longer, his tail wagging as he walked out the door and shortly out of your sight, his departure forcing you to get back to work, and allowing your worry to come back to the forefront of your mind. This time free to do so since Namjoon wasn’t around to sense your emotions.

It was proven time after time that Hybrids only had one true Mate in their lives, and once couples completed the bond, they weren’t able to have any romantic feelings towards anyone else. Which was why you were struggling to understand these changes with Namjoon.

Reaching up, you touched the Mate Mark, recalling all the moments when Namjoon had been the one to pull you back to bed, to cuddle you for five extra minutes because he had missed you. It was stupid to doubt his love for you, but you couldn’t help it.

There had to be a reason for why he was so distant again. For why he was barely being affectionate these days. Was it because these long nights that he spent at work with Yoongi, were with someone else? That he was enjoying the warm embrace of another before coming home? The idea was far-fetched, and you began doubting it a second later like always, but what were you supposed to think?

“Oh Joonie,” you sighed, seeing that he had left behind his coffee cup.

It was too late to try and rush out to bring it to him, so you tossed it into the trash with a thump, feeling like you were grasping at straws at this point. When you had done researched on what it meant to be Mates, never once did you come across a point where there was a possibility that the couples separated. It wasn’t even a consideration.

But now…you weren’t sure what to think.

153 notes · View notes

bold-writing · 4 years ago

Text

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 9 || Precious Porcelain, Cracked and Broken

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Threats.

Words: 3600+

Previous || Next

~9~

Iris and Barry emailed back and forth a few more times over Sunday, usually short and sweet since he was at work and Iris didn’t want to distract him from his job. Luke had surprised her with an email later in the day, saying that he’d bugged Barry into giving him her email address with a wink emoji at the end of the sentence. She’d just shaken her head with a smile as she pulled out some food for a simple dinner.

She had started her Monday with a positive outlook, having gotten much better sleeps the past couple of nights and therefore back on her game when she stepped into work. Emailing Barry and Luke had been one of the first things that she had done in the morning, somehow feeling right at home with the new addition to her routine.

The first couple of hours had gone smoothly, and Iris had been relieved to be back in her element with something to do with her time. Her coworkers were especially happy to have her back, thinking that she was going to go back to her usual routine of taking any and all hours that she could get her hands on; instead, she’d called the owner that morning and had discussed getting her schedule changed to allow for more free time on weekends and maybe evenings.

They had happily agreed, since she hadn’t taken voluntary time off since she had started there.

Her day was going smooth and by the book, Iris able to get lost in her thoughts as she priced and scanned the new books they had gotten in while manning the counter. Her coworkers were among the shelves, stocking up the empty spaces and cleaning up the messes that customers left behind.

Unfortunately, that good day didn’t last long.

“Miss, I can’t take this book,” Iris denied as she pushed the worn novel back across the counter. “Not only do you not have your receipt, we do not even sell that here.” They hadn’t gone through the painstaking process of transferring all of their files to computer for nothing, Iris was able to search for any book title and know whether they sold it or not.

“I lost the receipt, sorry! But I bought this book here, just last week!”

“Well it’s in terrible condition for having been bought a week ago,” Iris answered, motioning to the heavily cracked spine, bent front page and stains along the bottom corner. “We have strict rules here; you must return the book, with your receipt, within fourteen days of purchase.” Iris motioned to the taped up sign that was located just over Iris’s right shoulder, stating the rules that Iris had just said.

“I would like to talk to your manager,” the woman finally demanded with a deep scowl. She was several inches taller than Iris on flat ground, and she was now wearing four inch heels that made her absolutely tower over the younger woman.

“Hi,” Iris smiled back, remaining firmly rooted in place as she gave a small wave—almost, but not quiet, mockingly.

The woman’s face morphed into a livid frown before she snatched the book from the counter and turned on heel so fast that Iris was surprised she hadn’t spun right off her heels. She watched the woman leave, allowing Iris the satisfaction of once more having been able to pull the ‘I am the manager’ card. Iris glanced over to the coworker that was stocking just a few feet away from her, hiding a grin as she tucked more books on the shelf.

“You enjoy that too much,” she called over to Iris, amusement colour her features.

“The look on their face is the only thing that makes being the manager worth it,” Iris answered as she resumed her work of unboxing, pricing and scanning the books to put everything in the system. “Makes you glad we put everything on a computer system a couple years ago?” she offered, getting a laugh from the younger woman as she nodded eagerly.

“I don’t know how you stay so calm when you have people like that,” Jessica, the younger girl who had been there for nearly five years, added on as she finished with the box that Iris had given to her and moved over to collect the other one that Iris had priced for her.

“It helps that I go into a situation like that knowing they’ll ask for…well, me.” Jessica snorted at Iris’s explanation before the two women returned to their work. Iris pulled her long braid over her shoulder in nervous habit, her eyes double checking the computer screen to make sure that the correct number of copies had been entered before she opened a new page for the next box.

She was wearing a pair of thin black compression gloves, keeping her hands warm and protecting them from being cut up or dried out by the boxes and books, while also hiding her mark from prying eyes. Those that she worked with had gotten so accustomed to her wearing the gloves; they didn’t usually bring them up anymore. However, now and then they would make bets about whether or not it was a soulmark, and what it might say that would make her hide it.

The next box that Iris opened was a hardcover sketchbook, one of their best-selling sketchbooks; which made her smile as Barry popped into her mind.

She had barely tagged one book when the bell over the door signalled that someone else had entered the store. Having heard the same thing every day since she worked there, Iris didn’t even look up from the counter this time. “Welcome to Pages of the World; if you need any help just let me know!” she called from her place behind the counter while sticking another price-tag on the sketchbook.

“Yea, you can fucking help me, brat!”

Iris flinched while looking up from her work, the booming yell of a man charging up to the counter making her want to tuck tail and run. Women she could deal with, they always came off as less terrifying to her than men did after all these years. Even Jessica flinched behind the display she was setting up, looking between Iris and the irate man wearily.

“Excuse me?” Iris stuttered out in surprise, unable to supress the fear that had her leaning back. There was still a counter between the two of them, but Iris couldn’t find the assurance in it.

“You turned my wife away just because of a receipt? What the hell kinda customer service skills do you have to honestly be a manager?” Oh course it had to be the husband. Somehow, Iris figured that the couple had planned this. They would try to get a free fifteen dollars for a used book that was not from this store; if the wife’s sob story about losing the receipt didn’t work, the husband would come in and try to scare her into doing the non-existent return.

“Ones that do not concede to liars,” Iris snapped back with more bravado than she actually felt. “The rules are clear, and I do not appreciate your immaturity with the situation; I am a grown woman, there is no need to call me a brat, sir.”

“Clearly there is! You’re supposed to please your customers, you think I’ll ever come back here?”

“The best thing about being the manager here is that the owner has assured me that I can refuse service to anyone that I want. I assure you, sir, I do not want you or your wife to ever come back.” Iris’s tone stayed level and calm the entire time she was speaking, not once raising to the point that it could be considered yelling.

Beneath the counter, Iris subtly slipped off the metal bracelet that she wore around her wrist with the keys she needed for the different locks within the store. When unclipped, it was four inches of metal that held four full sized keys on the end of it. She was not opposed to swinging it at the man’s face if he tried anything.

His face was red by the time she finished speaking, his jaw locked tight as he fixed a glare on Iris that she was sure was supposed to scare her into relenting. “Now, I will have to ask that you leave this store before I am forced to call the authorities and have you escorted out.”

Standing behind the display, Jessica was watching the entire thing with wide eyes and a jaw close to dropping. Her manager, tiny little five foot Iris that was about one hundred pounds soaking wet, was holding her ground against a six foot tall man that looked like he could throw her with one hand. Her voice had wavered in the beginning, but then she had successfully collected herself and was able to keep her composure.

“You go ahead and call them, but I am getting my refund!” the man roared, reaching toward the buttons on the register to Iris’s right—which was rather stupid, since none of them would open the register unless Iris actually unlocked it first.

Similar to what she had done with Luke in the grocery store, Iris reached out and swung her chain of keys down onto the back of his hand, the man hadn’t even been able to hit a single button before he was recoiling in shock at the sharp pain that accompanied her attack. “This will be your final warning,” she almost growled out, her free hand poised over the phone.

Majority of the employees here were woman, so the police were on speed-dial just in case ‘911’ would take too long.

“You fucking cun-”

He never got the chance to finish what he was saying before he was suddenly slammed down onto the counter, drawing a startled yelp from both Iris and Jessica as the women leapt backward from the sudden action. A pale hand was holding the wanna-be robber by the back of his neck, pressing his face into the polished counter with considerable force, the other hand keeping the man’s arm tight behind his back in a very uncomfortable looking angle.

“That is not how you speak to a lady, and it’s especially not how you speak to mine.”

Iris damn near choked on air when she heard the familiar voice, this time with a more average American accent, and looked up the pale arms that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a sweatshirt left unzipped to expose an average undershirt and a necklace of some kind dipping down beneath the fabric. She stopped breathing entirely when her familiar handwriting was brought to the forefront of her attention. It was in her cursive, so she couldn’t read it from here, but there were many scattered along his forearms and another that shown at his left pectoral.

“What the fuck, man, get off!” the man snarled, though he was still useless to fight against the newest soulmate for Iris to meet. Had it not been for the lack of accent, she would almost think that it could have been Luke, but that would have been pushing it.

“You don’t talk to people like that, ya hear me?” he demanded while pushing the man’s face down against the counter with more force, getting an uncomfortable groan in response. “Huh?” he pressed again when no verbal response came.

“Alright!”

Nodding in satisfaction, her nameless soulmate hauled the man up from the desk and turned to face him with a hard glare. “You ever come back here and you’ll be dealing with me.” Iris had to strain to hear, but the threat was as clear as day. Then he shoved the man to the side, in the direction of the door he’d come through minutes before, and watched to make sure he left without touching any of the meticulously arranged displays.

Only when he’d ran passed the store windows and disappeared from view did his bark blue eyes turn toward Iris, who had remained silently shocked from the moment he’d first slammed her would-be robber down on the desk. “You alright, doll? He didn’t hurt ya?”

Iris opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. She couldn’t even think of forming words as the world suddenly went blurry around her and she could feel the heat in her cheeks as her blood fled from her already pale complexion.

Without a word, she suddenly turned and sat on the nearby desk chair that she used while doing paperwork, the sound of rushing footsteps alerting her to someone behind the desk before Jessica’s terrified face came into view. “Iris!” she called, apparently not for the first time, and reached for the older woman’s face to feel her strikingly cold cheeks.

Another hand against her shoulder, much larger and holding more weight behind it, drew Iris to look to her right with limp neck muscles barely keeping her head up. Barry? No, not Barry. Not Luke.

Who?

“It’s alright, doll, you just take your time,” he assured gently, his tone having changed drastically from when he’d first starting speaking to the other man. Even when he’d addressed Iris, he’d sounded more confident and sure, almost proud of Iris’s defense. Swallowing around a suddenly dry mouth, Iris tipped her head back in an attempt to let some cool air get to her face. She knew that to another it would feel cold with lack of blood, but she felt like she was blushing red as a tomato with how hot her cheeks were.

Suddenly, cool air was blowing against her face gently as Iris took a moment to think through her breaths and bask in the refreshing feeling.

“Iris? You need me to call someone?” a new voice called timidly. It was Sarah, a twenty-one year old woman who had worked for them since she was eighteen. She’d latched onto Iris immediately, since both women were naturally quiet and usually shied away from loud, extraverted situations.

“No,” Iris breathed out softly, beginning to feel better from sitting down a moment. “Thank you, Sarah. I’ll be okay. Do you mind taking over here for a moment, though?” Opening her eyes and looking over to her young coworker, Iris was relieved to see her nodding eagerly and stepping around the counter to take Iris’s spot. “I just need some air. Come get me if you need the keys, alright?” Jessica stopped fanning her with the booklet she’d picked up, stepping back to give Iris room.

“Take your time, okay? We’re perfectly fine on our own for a few minutes.”

Reluctantly agreeing, Iris turned away from the other two and reached out for her new soulmate’s hand to draw him after her, toward the front entrance. The large windows had benches in front of them for the people walking by to sit, so she immediately went for one of those.

Her soulmate followed her willingly, sitting down next to her as Iris settled down on the sun-warmed bench. “You alright, darling?” he asked quietly, keeping his tone gentle as he looked at Iris’s pale, pinched expression.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she mumbled tiredly, belatedly thinking that she probably should have thought of something better to say to him for first words.

“I’d rather I know what you’re going through than to be somewhere else and left to worry,” he answered easily, reaching out to pull her closer across the small bench. It left her pressed in against his side tightly, the warmth of his body helping her to relax somewhat. “That stuff happen often?”

“No,” she assured immediately, shaking her head before she let it tip to the side and rest her temple against his shoulder. “People don’t usually get so…worked up. When I mention the cops they usually take off running.”

“That guy was an asshole,” he grumbled angrily with a dark expression blanketing his features. It was not an expression she was accustomed to seeing; both Luke and Barry were more upbeat, they didn’t outwardly glare or glower. “You sure you’re alright?”

Her mouth and throat still felt abnormally dry and her heart was racing a bit faster than usual, but she could tell that there was blood returning to her face and her hands weren’t trembling like before. “I’ll be okay. I haven’t had that happen in a long time; just got overwhelmed for a minute.” He nodded in something akin to understanding, reaching up to sooth her hair gently with a gentle, assuring touch. “So, it’d be nice to have a name for my savior?”

He laughed under his breath at her timid tease, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. I’m BT, doll, and I’m damn glad I ignored Barry and came to see you today.”

Iris’s answering smile was shy and she couldn’t help but to silently agree with his words. “I’m glad, too. It scares me to think what might have happened if you hadn’t intervened.” Lowering her eyes, unable to keep looking into the deep blue—they were darker than Luke’s and Barry’s, she hadn’t thought that was possible. Instead, she looked down to where his forearms were left bare from his rolled up sleeves. Her familiar scrawl was looking back at her, especially one mark that was apparently long enough that it wrapped around his wrist three times.

A shorter one on the outside of his forearm was familiar to her; Wow, hello. Her words to Luke made her snort in amusement, reaching forward to trace the black cursive that stood out against BT’s pale skin. “It’s so strange to see my writing on someone else,” she mumbled to herself, aware that he could hear her.

BT leaned away from her suddenly, then proceeded to pull up the side of his sweater and shirt that he was wearing to expose the left side of his torso. I’m sorry you had to see that was written across his side, starting at the base of his ribs and trailing down along to the hem of his pants.

Her lips parted in surprise as she looked at the dark words, repressing the urge to reach out and touch them. Barry and Luke hadn’t outwardly tried to hide their skin or marks from her, but they had worn warmer clothes when she’d met them and therefore had masked any of their marks. BT was the first to wear something that exposed his marks willingly, feeling as though he had nothing to hide.

And to go even further, he had gone ahead and pulled up his shirt to show her the words that she had just spoken to him. She was left trying to not look at the cut of his hip that proved something she’d already assumed—he was incredibly fit.

“I…can’t show you where mine is,” she admitted softly, her cheeks warming with a blush as she remembered where BT’s mark was—curving along her left ribs, following the natural curve that was beneath her left breast.

“Now ya got me curious,” BT teased gently, not wanting to push her too far when she was still clearly shaken from what had happened. His smile softened as he straightened his shirt and shuffled her closer to him again, returning her to her place pressed against his side. “I don’t wanna leave ya here alone; feels wrong after that.”

He motioned with his thumb in the direction that the guy had run off, probably hopping into a car that his wife was still waiting in. “I’m not alone,” Iris argued tiredly. “There’s three other people working today, and it’s just a simple bookstore. Things like that never really happen. I do get the odd person who tries to trick us by bringing in some used book for a return, but that guy was…determined.”

“Is it all girls in there? Because no offense to you all defending yourselves, but I doubt anyone’s gunna be intimidated by four short girls trying not to let him rob the place.”

“We have David in as well,” she assured. “He’s closing today, because I opened the store.”

BT seemed to relax slightly as he nodded in understanding, a thoughtful look on his face as he pondered for a moment. “When do you get off? I’ll come get ya!”

Iris wanted to stop him, to deny him from interrupting his schedule for her, but she already knew that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I finish at four today; come here around quarter after?”

“You got it, doll.” BT leant forward suddenly to smack a kiss against the side of her head in assurance. “I’ve gotta get going, though. Barry’s already gunna be pissed if he finds out that I came here…well, more like when he finds out. Barry knows freaking everything.”

Iris stood up with BT, already feeling a thousand times better after she’d had some time to get fresh air. “Thanks for your help, BT. I’m definitely glad you came here when you did.” BT grinned broadly before he reached out to snatch her up, pulling her against him abruptly in a near bone-crushing hug. She was jarred for a moment before she returned his embrace and hugged him back, revelling in the warmth that he emitted. “I’ll see you after four.”

She backed away from him reluctantly, smiling shyly as she trailed her hand along the covered mark on his left side. BT smirked back, knowing what she was doing, as he nodded his affirmative. “Sure thing, doll. I’ll be waiting out here for you, a’right?”

“Deal.”

Previous || Next

#Split #Split Movie #Split 2016 #James McAvoy #Barry Split #Barry #Dennis Split #Dennis #Patricia Split #Hedwig Split #Imagine #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Split imagine #Soulmate Imagine #Soulmate AU #Barry/OC #Barry x Reader

73 notes · View notes

7wanderingpaws · 4 years ago

Text

Simply, yours (12)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: mentions of death, cursing

A/N: a moodboard! Yay! Finally some face to the story ^^ in my head baek looks like on the pics in this one hihi. Couple of more interesting things will happen! Aaaand this series will finish by 15th chapter. Or less. I will see how much time I will have. :( Anyway, thank you all sososososooo much for the support and comments, it means THE WORLD! ❤

tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose @cynthbee @jummyjammy @junmyeonnoona @littleflowercrown13 @sebootyforlife (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12

Baekhyun was stressed. That much you could tell.

The competition between the universities was in couple of days and he-

“Chanyeol, I can't hang out! I still didn't hand in my paper on the sports psychology thing and I have to head to uni in a couple for the training!”

You were in the kitchen, trying to bake some muffins since you were craving like a mad man, and you could hear him pacing around the bedroom where he bunked the whole day to finish off the mentioned paper. He had been a bit distant since the past three-four days, and you gave him his space, knowing he wasn't taking any silly things from anyone right now. He was full on focused and, well, quite biting to whomever tried to help.

He sighed again. “Listen, I know we still have time to hand it in, but I am so busy with the university team that I need to finish it earlier. Fuck, the assistant master is also breathing on my neck. You need to understa-”

He went quiet when Chanyeol interrupted him, and you silently continued separating the dough to the empty holes on the baking pan.

It had now been two weeks since the Korean New Year and another check-up at the clinic, after which you started to attend pilates classes for the expecting women. You had classes two times per week in the evening hours and one of them clashed with Baekhyun's hapkido class at the university, so you weren't accompanying him that often anymore, which was also a small relief for you. As much as your presence there didn't change matters, you felt like a bothersome girlfriend that needed to keep an eye on him, which was not true. Let alone Jiyoung, although had not necessarily done anything, still made you uneasy with her straight-forward behaviour with Baekhyun. You trusted him, though. After the Korean New Year, you got rid of the whole jealousy nonsense and focused solely on yourself and your own peace of mind. After all, it was literally a matter of a few months and your life would become loud, tiring and just overall turnt upside down.

“And you know I've got other stuff to get taken care of.” Silence. “You know what I'm talking about.” You giggled to yourself, liking how Baekhyun was losing his cool with his best friend, not paying attention to the meaning of his words.

You placed the baking pan in the oven and set up the temperature and timer, finally standing up properly, and hissing at the pain in your lower back.

These days, whenever you looked in the mirror at your tummy and the dark stretch marks, you couldn't help but wonder how was this humanly possible; to bear three kids in your own body, in that little place under your heart. It blew your mind, and usually you would end up talking about this with Baekhyun just before sleeping when the lights were out and you were curled up at his side.

“Just proves how fucking amazing you are, my love,” he would murmur in your ear.

You smiled to yourself, your heart fluttering at the recollection and you sat down, checking your phone. A new customer who was buying your knitted clothings, was supposed to come by any minute now, so you might as well rest till she arrived, and let Baekhyun deal with his own issues.

You found a message from the lady waiting for you, so you opened it quickly, thinking she might have cancelled on you.

Hello! I was supposed to pick up the ordered knits today, but I can't make it unfortunately, so my husband will come at the promised time instead! Thank you!

Okay, at least she didn't cancel. You didn't care who would come for them as long as they were taken and paid for.

“Okay, Chanyeol, I will meet you tomorrow,” Baekhyun finally ended the call after more discussion and then you heard another heavy sigh. It caused pain for you too, knowing you couldn't help and you also didn't have a constant, stable pay so that you could ease it up for him just a little bit. Great at uselessne- no. You wouldn't allow yourself those thoughts anymore.

“Babe, you good?” you shouted.

“Yeah.”

“Doesn't sound very convincing,” you muttered to yourself, just when the doorbell rang. You struggled up to your feet and headed for the intercom, letting the person in.

“That's the customer, right?” asked Baekhyun from the bedroom.

You made your way to the door, the little bag with necessary clothes prepared, as you shouted back a yes before sliding the door open and waiting for the person to leave the elevator.

You were excited to earn money like this, even if it was just a little bit. You could shop groceries with it and Korea did have expensive fruit and veggies, unfortunately, so this came extremely handy to you.

Quickly shooting a look behind you, you double-checked if everything looked decent and clean in the apartment before turning back just to get the biggest shock.

Without even thinking, you had the urge to slam the door shut in his face before he could properly orient himself on the new floor of apartments, but you didn't do it. Instead, you ran your tongue over your teeth, preparing for a painful smile.

He turned and he spotted you - he just looked at your stomach - standing in the doorway, ready to walk to you resolutely before he actually brought his eyes up to yours. And he momentarily froze, stopping on the spot.

Silence overtook the cold corridor, and you felt the stress creeping up in your stomach, except you had nothing to fear this time. It was him who wanted something. And Baekhyun was right in the apartment in case anything happened.

“I believe you came to pick up the knits?” Your voice was almost foreign to you, it was strained so much.

His eyes fell lower, seeing just how pregnant you were; your body a far cry from when he last saw you. Clearing his throat, he replied: “Yes, I am.”

Slowly, he walked over and you pushed your hand with the bag out for him to take, wanting him to just leave. “Here. That will be 120.000 won, please.”

Your ex-boss stared at you, not taking the bag for a couple of heartbeats. He monitored your face before his eyes looked behind you at the humble apartment. Only after that, he took it while with his other hand he reached behind taking out his wallet probably from the pockets of his trousers. “Yes, I have the exact amount.”

“Good.”

He snapped his eyes back to you, as he took out the necessary cash before handing it to you. “How are you?”

Oh, dear lord. Not the small talk, please.

“I mean, are you doing well and healthy?”

You stared at him, hoping the negative emotions didn't mirror in your eyes too much, as you didnt want to become someone like him. “I'm fine and healthy, thank you for asking.”

“That's a relief.”

Suppressing a scoff, you were about to put an end to this fruitless conversation when you heard shuffling from behind, and Baekhyun's voice. “Is everything alright?” And he appeared.

He walked to your side, shock evident on his face. “You?”

You felt a protective hand around your waist, your boyfriend pushing you further inside the house, not liking an inch your evil boss being near your vicinity.

Your boss, Mr Kim, gave him a tight lipped smile. “Hello, Mr Byun. My wife is the one buying the knits from your wif- girlfriend.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “She wrote me just a couple of minutes ago that her husband would pick them up instead of her,” you explained to Baekhyun, who didn't even look at you, his strict gaze focused on your boss, “and it turns out to be Mr Kim. There are too many Kims in this country, for sure.”

“Well, we hope your wife will enjoy them,” said Baekhyun coldly. “Have a good evening.”

He was about to push both of you back inside to close the door, but your boss surprised you. Again. “I just wanted to… wish you all the best. I hope you will continue having a safe pregnancy and birth.”

You frowned, but nodded nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“And… I apologise.”

Baekhyun's grip on you tightened. “For what exactly?”

Mr Kim looked in your eyes as he seemed to think over his words. “I was acting unprofessional and it was not acceptable. Me sacking you due to your state was not justifiable, and I realize that I probably created even bigger financial difficulties for you. You always mentioned how money comes in handy and yet…” he shook his head, scrunching his eyebrows, “it was all a terrible mistake. I was insensitive. I apologise.”

You took in a shaky breath, your palms sweaty with anxiety as you let his words properly sink in. He actually uttered those words. Those apologetic words. The words you never imagined he would say, because you believed he was incapable of feeling anything close to regret and sorrow.

Sensing your hesitation, Baekhyun spoke up. “I think it's too late for that. But thank you. I bet my girlfriend appreciates your realizations.”

“Why suddenly?” You asked before Baekhyun could push you further inside the apartment. “I worked so hard for you. I always tried to please you yet I received hate.”

Something flashed in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite name. Was it hurt? Was it sorrow? Pain? “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I was ruthless, but just know that I am sorry.” He looked at Baekhyun now. “I deserved the punch.” With a sad smile, he raised and dangled the bag in front of him as he took a step back. “I’m sure my grandchildren will love this. And my wife too. All the best,” he said and turned around, not letting you and Baekhyun speak.

And you wouldn’t even be able to, because Baekhyun closed the door right after muttering: “Get home safely.”

“What was that?” You asked, shell-shocked at the sudden turn of events. “Did this really happen?”

You were still squeezing the bank notes in your sweaty palms and you moved to put them on the dining table, Baekhyun hot on your heels. “He is crazy. One moment he is shouting at you, calling you all kinds of things and the next he is sorry and acts like…whatever” he trailed off, in the heat of a moment unable to think of a proper word.

You shot him a look, amused. “I know. But at least he realized his mistake.”

Baekhyun pursed his lips, not fully convinced with your words but eventually he murmured: “At least if some other employee gets pregnant he won’t throw her out.”

You smiled, satisfied with his way of thinking. “Exactly.”

“And you earned yourself some money,” he reciprocated the smile and he came to you to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Well done.”

“I’ve been earning money through this for some time now,” you reminded him.

“I know but it’s his money.”

“Oh.”

“Exactly.”

Once the muffins were out of the oven, you decided to call Sukyeong. Baekhyun retrieved to your shared bedroom to continue his studying. He needed the peace anyway, and you really wanted to chat to your good friend because you had way too many thoughts and questions about your ex-boss’s well being. The way he acted was so unlike him.

Sukyeong thankfully picked up after the third ring and she squealed into the phone upon seeing your name. “Finally! I thought you would never call! We saw each other two weeks ago, don't tell me you got suddenly busy!”

You let out a breathy laugh. “No, I became lazy and almost immobile by now, thank you for the concerns.”

“I think I will have to drop by more often,” she thought out loud. “Besides, I also want to talk about something!”

“Eh? What is it?”

“Nah, this needs to be told face to face.”

Since your topic seemed to be just a little bit more intriguing than Sukyeong’s secretiveness, you decided to go with it and spill the beans. You quickly explained to her what just happened, feeling more encouraged by her gasps.

“Well, there is something that happened actually,” she said after a bit of silence. After you left your job, you and Sukyeong rarely ever talked about the workplace, Sukyeong only complaining about the workload and whatnot. She was such a kind-hearted, considerate friend to you; she knew by default the last person you want to talk about was your screwed up boss. “I just didn't know if I should tell you or not, since it doesn't really include you anymore and also…” she trailed off, “it might scare you.”

You frowned, fingering the little whole in the pillow you were hugging to yourself. “Scare me? What are you talking about?” you let out a doubtful laugh.

Sukyeon sighed and you imagined her playing with her fringe to ease up the nerves. “You know his son is married, right?”

“Mhm.” You rarely paid attention to your boss's private life but you were aware of that fact.

“So, anyway, Mr Kim's daughter-in-law was pregnant and she was supposed to give birth just one month after you left,” she continued on, her words still not bearing an ounce of confidence.

You interrupted her, though. “Oh, really? So why didn't he fire his daughter-in-law, huh?! How dare she be pregnant?! God, that man is ridiculous, I swear. Poor daughter-in-law! How difficult it must be for her to live with him!”

“Erm,” Sukyeong gently called out your name, trying to get your attention, which she did but you wished she didn't as her next words gave you the nausea you had been dreading to have your entire pregnancy. “She died giving birth.”

You went completely silent at that, your mind empty and busy all at the same time. His daughter-in-law died giving birth to his grandchild. She died. Giving birth. “How did that happen?” you breathed out.

“Complications during birth. Unexpected high blood pressure, high sugar levels and many other factors,” she replied, her voice sad.

“Jesus,” you breathed out again, “I had no clue.”

“You couldn't have known, dear.”

Tears burned in your eyes at the thought of how tragic the whole story is. So this was why he was apologetic. “But still… I'm so sorry. To her, and even to him - Mr Kim.”

Sukyeong heaved out a heavy sigh. “Don't cry, I cannot comfort you over the phone like this. You wouldn't know!”

“What if I will die?”

“You won't,” she snapped right away. “You are a healthy woman.”

“You know my blood-pressure is also dangerously high at times.”

“But that doesn't change the fact that you are healthy. You don't have problems with your sugar levels, nor is your entire pregnancy problematic.” She paused, before she continued. “Listen, this is why I was reluctant to tell you. I didn't want to trigger any fear in you. Just don't think about it.”

You felt your chin quiver, but you pushed it down. Sukyeong was right. Plus, Baekhyun really didn't need this kind of stress when he already had too much on his plate right now. Having to suck it up and be brave for your own self for once was something you should have started doing a while ago. You always knew pregnancy was a risk. But you wanted to show everyone that not having enough money and still bearing three healthy babies and eventually giving them birth was something more valuable than any monetary aspect of this world.

“You are right, Sukyeonga. I won't. But you owe me a hot chocolate.”

It was around 1am. You were lying on your side, naked back facing Baekhyun as he absentmindedly traced his fingertips over the imprints on your back, left there by your bra. He was shuffling around more, until he resolved to skinship in hopes to ease his mind.

“What's on your mind?” you asked quietly out of nowhere, startling him for a second. He thought you would be asleep by now.

You turned around to your other side, curling up against his chest and he gladly opened his arms for you, missing your presence. It was common that you two would naturally shift apart during the night, both of you deep in sleep, but because of your pregnancy you also felt many times boiling hot which resulted in you scooting as far away from his body heat as the mattress allowed. This time though, the night was exceptionally cold and you knew he needed you.

“Baby, you should be resting,” he rasped quietly.

You held his cheek gently, looking up at him, although he couldn't see you properly in the darkness. “There is something bothering my man,” you whispered, “and I can't sleep when I know you are this troubled.”

He sighed, and you could feel the heaviness of it, the worries somehow too difficult to bear. “It's just a lot on my plate,” he admitted, though very reluctantly. “I want our team to win or at least make it very far but I'm worried I am asking for too much.” His hand was caressing your back, enjoying the hot skin covering it.

“What makes you think that?”

He went silent, contemplating your question and his answer to it. The truth was, Baekhyun's head was very chaotic which rarely happened. Him, who always had a goal clearly set in his mind, never got this worried. “I don't even know. It's the PhD stuff together with this Universiad competition… both require my full attention and even though I am doing my best, I feel like I could still do better.”

It meant a lot that he was this outspoken. He shared his daily issues with you, however only the heavy ones he would let pile up and mull over them until he couldn't bear it anymore.

“My perfectionist boy,” you cooed. “Everything is created in your mind, darling. Everything is still the same as before - you are a student and as your side job you teach kids. Your team was always doing well and that's why you got this opportunity. In fact, you don't need to change anything. You have addition of Jiyoung and her team, that's true, but that still doesn't change the fact that what you did until now is enough. It is all valuable. You're not asking for too much, Baekhyun.”

A couple of heartbeats later you heard him sigh again as he squeezed your body to his, your tummy pressing to his side. “Thank you,” he murmured into your hair.

“Don't keep it in. I know it's difficult. I know, honey.”

“I just want to do well, you know? Do well in my professional life. And I want to do everything in my power to make you and our kids live comfortably.”

You felt stinging behind your eyes, touched and overwhelmed with emotions. “You are doing more than enough, Baekhyun. I'm comfortable and happy because I have you. Out of our entire village, you are the superstar. You are the one who made it. Don't doubt yourself for one second, because I will love you no matter what. You are doing already more than enough, so relax.”

He chuckled lowly. “What would I do without you, hm?” he whispered and he moved to bury his face in your neck, slowly kissing down to your chest where he rested his head under your collarbones. His arm around you was now caressing the bump, his thumb running over the stretched out belly. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Don't thank me.That's what I'm here for. For you. In good and in bad,” you replied as you played with his messy hair.

“Already doing the wedding vows?”

You grew hot, the sudden images of a wedding ceremony with Baekhyun warming your heart. “Not yet.”

He hummed. “But soon.”

“After the kids are born.”

“Where do you want to leave them for our honeymoon? They would be always tied to your boobs. That way I can't have them just for myself.”

That made you laugh out loud, and you pulled on his hair gently, making him chuckle. He raised his head and you felt his breath on your smiling lips. “Then you better enjoy them until you can.”

He kissed you slowly, languidly, humming in the process while dragging his hand over your bump and chest until he was cupping your cheek. “I should, huh,” he murmured into your open mouth. “Though I beg for priority. I was the first to claim them.”

You laughed again and Baekhyun felt extremely satisfied, his worries settled for now. He brought you in for another sensual kiss until both of your eyes were droopy enough to pull to sleep.

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