#Guests from overseas

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Nicholas Roerich - Guests from Overseas (1901)— with Ruslana Kovalynskaya. :: [Guillaume Gris]

* * * *

“The One Forbidden Thing. Remember Bluebeard, who says to his wife, “Don’t open that closet”? And then one always disobeys. In the Old Testament story God points out the one forbidden thing. Now, God must have known very well that man was going to eat the forbidden fruit. But it was by doing that that man became the initiator of his own life. Life really began with that act of disobedience.” ― Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Busted

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Rogue has a date, and you and Logan decide to follow. You're just making sure she's safe. But sometimes it's in moments like that, that you find out your 'husband' is the love of your life.

Disclaimer: Mostly chaos, fluffiness, fake dating, mentions of being a soldier, the claws come out briefly, a nosy book club and its members. Some swearing, steam and a little angst. I wrote this over two days so apologies if it becomes spotty. This is a long one. Not Proof Read.

Rogue had a date. 

Both yourself, Logan and…practically most of the teachers in the school knew about Rogue having a date. 

Yet, despite knowing all of this. And somewhat knowing the guy’s intentions…Logan had decided to follow them. 

And you had found yourself tagging along. 

“And what did you think you were gonna do when they figured out you were following them?” You asked him. “At least this way it just looks like we decided to pick up dinner in town.”

“At the same restaurant?”

“You ask that as if this wasn’t your idea.”

“Oh please,” Logan practically rolled his eyes at you. “I saw what you were actually looking at early. You were caseing the place.”

“I was looking at their opening times.” You countered, if a little harshly. 

“You were casing the joint and you know it. If I wasn’t coming down here, you would have already come.”

You gave a short, heavy sigh. “Fine. I wanted to make sure this wasn’t some kind of set up. I just want her to be safe and have fun.”

“And I want to make sure the guy isn’t a creep.” Logan finalised before opening up the door for you allowing you to step inside. 

“Hello, madam! Ah, good sir! Table for two?” The waiter looked at his list. 

Logan looked and felt a little out of place. He was hoping you could both enter quietly, not have an announcement made to the entire restaurant. 

“Uh, yea. Yes, please.”

The waiter smiled, picking up two menus. “Please, this way.”

“Logan.”

Logan followed your line of sight to see where Rogue and her date were sitting, smiling and laughing with one another as they looked over the menus. 

“Uh, actually, bub?”

The waiter turned around. “Yes, sir?”

“If you don’t mind we’d like to sit…” Logan looked around and found an empty table. “There.”

You saw where he pointed and realised why. Too far back into the restaurant, you’d pass right by the happy couple. 

Sitting where Logan was currently looking, gave you direct sight of the happy couple and with a chance, more coverage from the rest of the guests. 

“There?” The waiter asked, a little offended. “Oh, no, Sir. Please. We have a lovely booth for a couple such as yourself back here. Romantic candle light, a lot more privacy, no?”

You felt yourself blush at what the waiter was trying to subtly say. 

And it seemed that Logan caught on, too. And looked at you, unsure of what to do. 

You gave a small laugh and moved closer to Logan, “I’m sure, but you see, the thing is, my…”

You hesitated a little on your next words. “Husband.”

Christ, you felt that lie weigh on your chest. 

“He was in the army. Not a big fan of not being able to see the door. Just a habit, I suppose.”

The waiter gave a softer smile. “Ah, no worries.” 

Swiftly, he began leading you both towards the table Logan had pointed out. “My sister is serving overseas right now. We are all very proud. Thank you for your service, Sir.”

Logan gave an awkward smile and thanked the waiter before you both sat down with your menus. 

“I thought we were busted then,” Logan shifted in his seat. 

“So did I,” you replied. “So long as they don’t draw any-”

“So, what will it be?” 

Both yourself and Logan jumped at the waiter's sudden reappearance. However, he didn’t seem to notice as he began rattling off the specials. And then the wines. And then came the crash. 

Everyone’s heads turned inside the restaurant. 

Including Rogue’s. 

Quickly, you scooted your chair around so the waiter blocked you from view. By the time he turned back around, muttering about incompetencies about the newer staff members, he excused himself and headed in the direction of the crash. 

You saw Rogue settle her back to talking with her date and you breathed again, pulling your chair back to its original position. 

The waiter returned. 

“So, what will you be having?”

This time he blocked your view from Rogue’s table, giving Logan a clearer view of her date. You could see something flare up in Logan. 

“Uh, we’re gonna need another minute.” You said hurriedly, willing the waiter to walk away. 

And he did. 

For a moment. 

“Logan.”

He turned back to you. “What?”

“Have you decided yet?” The waiter was back. 

Logan took your menu from you and placed it with his before handing it over to the waiter, who seemed shocked for a moment since it took him just as long to realise what Logan was doing. 

“Two cheeseburgers, a side of fries and two sodas. Please.”

The waiter seemed to force his smile a little. “Of course, sir. Anything else?”

“No, thank you.” You replied and the waiter bowed his head before walking away.

For a split second as you looked at Logan, you felt a comfort in your gut. And apparently the look was still clear on your face when he looked back at you. 

“What?”

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. “Nothing, just…well, the last time a guy ordered my food for me he ordered me a salad, with a side of vinegar and sparkling water.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, slightly confused. “Is that what you wanted?”

“Fuck no.” You answered honestly. You didn’t want it then, and you sure as hell didn’t want it now. 

Especially the sparkling water. 

Logan looked at you for a moment in a silence you hadn’t known from him before. Then he turned back to watch Rogue’s date. 

And there was that look again. 

“Logan. You can’t kill him from here.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

You nodded. “I know that. And so does everyone else in this restaurant. At least now I know why Scott doesn’t send you undercover.”

Logan turned back to you. 

“You might be the ‘mysterious, silent’ type but if someone took one look at your face, they’d find their answers.”

“Are you saying I’m easy to read?”

Someone came and placed your drinks down on the table. You shrugged. 

“To the people who know you, yes.”

“Okay, then. Fine.” Logan turned his full attention onto you. “What am I thinking?”

“That I’m wrong. And that you wished you had the powers of invisibility so you could be closer to the table without being seen and mess with her date whilst he can’t see you.”

Logan remained still for a second before shifting in his seat. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am easy to read.”

You smiled and took a sip of your soda. “See.”

For the next twenty five minutes, things ran smoother than expected. You both enjoyed your meals, yourself and Logan talked a little however spent most of your time watching Rogue and her date enjoy their time. 

“What would you do?” 

Logan hummed a questioned response. 

“If you took someone out on a date? What would you do?”

Logan scrunched up his paper napkin and placed it beside his plate. “Why do you want to know?”

You shrugged, looking away from Rogue’s date. “Curiosity? I’ve had that many crappy dates in my time, maybe you can rescue my last sliver of hope.”

Logan felt a smile on his face for a moment, hearing your plea for hope. 

“Oh, come on. They’re talking. If we look at them any longer they might sense someone staring.”

Logan sighed. “Fine.”

“So, what would you do?”

Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. Go for a drink, maybe some food. Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve dated.”

“Seriously?”

Logan nodded. “Seriously. What about you?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Well, the last date I went on the guy ordered my food for me.”

“Sparkling water guy?” Logan asked. 

You nodded. “One in the same. He spent two hours talking about his businesses, and didn't notice I hadn’t touched my food. Or my drink, for that matter. Then at the end, said that if we ever got married, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than what I was going to make him for his dinner each night.”

“Fucking asshole. Why did you stay?”

You decided to answer honestly. “Didn’t have anything else to do. And my friends had been on my case about my dating life. They were all either married or getting married or starting a family, and when they said they knew this “really great guy, you’ll just adore him” I decided to give it a shot.”

“What did they do when they found out he was an asshole?”

“Couple apologised, others asked me to give him a second chance. They haven’t tried setting me up with anyone since.”

Logan watched you for a moment as you pulled your soda to your lips. He wanted to punch the Sparkling Water Guy. He didn’t realise how lucky he was to be on a date with someone like you. And, in all honesty, he wasn’t too happy with your friends either. 

“You deserve better.”

Your eyes widened and for a moment Logan thought he had fucked up, saying that to you out loud. 

“Logan. Logan, quick. Shit.”

Then he noticed where you were looking. Rogue was standing up, as was her date. 

“Shit.”

You looked around you, trying to find the best place to hide yourself. Only Logan found a solution. 

From under the table, he grabbed the bottom of your chair and pulled you closer towards him. 

“Just keep looking at me, hopefully we’ll just blur in with the rest of the crowd.”

And you did. You kept your eyes on Logan. 

In his peripheral vision, he saw Rogue slipping her coat on with her date’s help, who just so happened to rake his eyes up and down her body from the back whilst she wasn’t looking. 

Then he felt your hand on his. 

“Logan,” you whispered to him, getting his attention. 

With your hand on his, you were covering the tips of his claws that started peeking out from between his knuckles. 

“He’s just helping her put her coat on.”

Logan felt the tips of his claws retract, however three small holes were left in the cloth on the table beside his plate. 

“Sorry.”

You just smiled. “It’s okay.”

Then the waiter came back. “Ah, so lovely to see a couple so in love.”

You felt your cheeks go red and hid your face against Logan’s shoulder as he curled his arm around your back and smiled at the waiter. “Can we have the check?”

The waiter nodded. “Of course, just one moment.”

Within seconds, the waiter was back just as Rogue and her date walked out of the door. 

“Have a lovely evening!” The waiter called out to both of you as Logan took your hand and headed for the door. 

Rogue and her date were already half way down the street. 

“Where are they going?”

“Maybe he’s walking her to the cab station?” You offered. 

Logan, with his eyes still fixed on the dates, nodded his head in the opposite direction. “Taxis’ that way.”

Looking back at you, you both made a simultaneous decision and were back to following them. 

“Where the hell could they be going?”

“Maybe they’re just going for a walk. It is still early and they looked like they were having fun. Some couples like to take a walk together after a date.”

“They’re not a couple yet. And this is their first date.” 

You caught up beside Logan and pulled him to a slower pace so neither of you looked like frantic maniacs going down Main Street. 

“If we get any closer, they’re gonna see us.”

“You’re right.”

Yourself and Logan tailed them down the street and around the park before deciding to head back home. “If they’re coming round on the top of the street, they’re gonna see your car.”

Logan looked around him before taking hold of your hand and nearly pulling your arm out of its socket. “This way.”

“Logan, slow down.” You told him. “We aren’t all ten feet tall.”

Thankfully, he did slow down, however didn’t let go of your hand. 

“Do you think we did the right thing? Following them?”

You nodded. “I was questioning it at first but…at least this way we know the guy actually meant what he said when he asked her out. Oh, shit

“What?”

You just managed to push Logan into the doorway of a closed bookstore, pushing his back against the glass. 

“What are you doing?”

“Uhhh,” you panicked. “Nothing. Just a…puddle. Big puddle.”

“It hasn’t rained in three days. What are you-”

Logan stopped when he saw what you had seen. Rogue’s date was about to lean in to kiss her. 

You pushed him back, trying your best to keep him pinned to the wall. “Okay, I get we tailed them most of the night but we have to give them some privacy.”

“Did he even ask?”

“I don’t know, but just keep your voice down. The car is three spaces away. Hopefully they’ll be distracted long enough to-”

You peered back round the corner. “Oh, thank god.”

“What? What’s going on? Has hell opened up and sucked him in?”

You looked back at Logan, a little less than amused. “They’re going into the ice cream shop. Come on, before they see us.”

However, just as you both stepped out of the doorway, you found your path blocked by an elderly woman and her dog. 

She chuckled to herself. “Don’t mind me kids, just taking Frankie on a walk. And don’t worry, honey. I remember when I first met my Harry. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

You let out a nervous laugh as Logan looked like he was about to burst from embarrassment as he ran a hand through his hair, his shirt coming untucked and showing off a small hint of his torso. 

Mrs Keller watched where your eyes landed and gave you a knowing albeit loving smirk as she watched you move closer to Logan, tugging his shirt down a little and pressing close into his side. 

“We should get going. It was nice seeing you Mrs Keller.”

Mrs Keller waved you both off towards Logan’s car. “I’ll see you for next week's book club?”

You nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“Feel free to bring your husband along,” she called back. “It’ll drive Little Miss Prissy up the wall that you’ve been keeping that Handsome Fella a secret.”

You laughed nervously once again, as Logan gave you a slight smirk despite his initial embarrassment at what the old lady thought you were both doing.  

“Good night, Mrs Keller.” You called out before Logan repeated it. 

She waved you both goodbye before continuing down the street with Frankie walking by her side. 

Closing the passenger door, you covered your face with your hands already feeling Logan’s eyes and teasing smile on you. 

“She was nice.”

“Shut up and drive.”

Logan chuckled, placing his key into the ignition and pulling out of his spot, his hand behind your headrest as he did so when looking over his shoulder. 

Barely five minutes into the drive, Logan started asking you questions. 

“You’re a part of a book club?”

“We all meet every fortnight and talk about books.”

“And Mrs Keller…?”

You sighed. 

“Is one of the founding members. I met her at the library one day when taking some books back. She was at the desk asking if they had the newest Danielle Steel. They didn’t, but I had seen it in the shop window in a bookstore on the other side of town. We walked together and she invited me to join.”

“How was the book?” Logan asked. 

“I cried.” You answered honestly. “First book I actually cried at.”

Logan let out a small laugh and you hit his arm whilst trying to hold in one of your own. “Don’t laugh.”

“I-I’m not laughing. Okay, maybe I am. I mean, it is funny. Is this where you’ve been disappearing every other Saturday?”

You nodded. “Pretty much. They’re a fun group. Well, most of them are.”

“Let me guess?” Logan asked. “Little Miss Prissy?”

You groaned. “She lives two doors down from Eva. Eva can be nice, but Prissy? God, she’s a nightmare. Every time it’s her turn to talk, she somehow manages to turn it back to her and her “ever doting husband” and their “precious baby niece and nephew” and “oh, look at how cute he is with them.” You know, we read American Psycho once. She still managed to turn it back to her husband.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you continued. “If she wanted to know about anyone else’s love life. Like…” you sighed, thinking of an example. “Mrs Keller? Her and Harry have been together since they were seventeen. They met when they were twelve, lived across the street from each other their entire lives. Mrs Keller had been stood up for one of the local dances by Harry’s friend. So, the minute he found out, he ran over to her house, still covered in motor oil and asked her to the dance. Mrs Keller deserves to write her own romance book for everything that her and Harry have done together. But can she get a word in edgewise? Nope.”

“Sounds like a love for the ages.” Logan said with a soft smile on his lips, looking at you before turning his gaze back to the road in front of him. “And by the sounds of it, Mrs Keller is going to give her something else to talk about.”

You covered your face again. “Oh, god.”

“Hey, come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“How do I tell Mrs Keller I’m not married? She’s gonna think that I’m-”

“What if you didn’t?” 

You turned and looked at Logan. “What?”

“What if you didn’t? Tell them you’re not married? I mean, it’s not like they’re gonna meet me.” Logan explained. “Just…keep up with the lie.”

“And what do I do when they ask me questions?”

Logan shrugged. “Just…bend the truth.”

“Okay,” you sat up in your seat, deciding to test him. “How did we meet?”

“At work. We’re both teachers.”

“When was our first date?”

Logan thought about it. “Six months after we met. We decided to stay up late and ate leftover Chinese food.”

You furrowed your brows. How the hell did he manage to answer these so quickly? Sure, most of it was true. You were both teachers, and the first night you spent alone in the same room together was eating the leftovers in the fridge. Of course, what wasn’t being said was that you both actually met when Logan nearly bulldozed you when he ran into the Professor’s office just after he’d woken up in Jean’s lab. Or how neither of you had properly spoken to one another until that night six months later. 

Or how afterwards, it took a long time for you to make a genuine friendship with him that wasn’t just talking about the team or what the students had to learn in that semester. 

“And then what?” You asked him. “We kissed and lived happily ever after?”

Logan shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

You groaned again. “I hate lying to Mrs Keller.”

“You just lied to her like ten minutes ago. We both did.”

Eventually, Logan pulled up outside of the school and left the car back where he had found it. 

“Like we never left.”

You smiled. “Come on, before she gets back and figures out what we’ve been doing.”

Walking through the school ground and up the front steps, both you and Logan chatted away, laughing a little here and there about anecdotes you were telling him. 

Then you were alone in the middle of the empty hallway, cast in darkness and hints of moonlight. 

“We should get to bed before they get back.”

“I think I might stay up and wait for her to get back. Make sure he didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have done.”

You stepped a little closer to him. “Be nice, Logan.”

“I’m always nice.”

You just raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Okay, fine.” Logan sighed a laugh. “I’ll be nice.”

“Thank you. Tell me how it goes?”

Logan nodded. “Course.”

However, as you both stood together in the hallway, soaking in the vision of the other, you both heard footsteps. 

“Shit.”

Logan looked around. “Here.”

Taking your hand, Logan pulled you into the small space besides the bookshelf and the window. 

Being pressed between the wall and him, you felt his scent and body heat swirl around you and mix with your own. Your own heartbeat was drumming so loud in your eardrums you could hardly hear what Rogue was saying when she was talking to her date. 

From above you, Logan leaned down, his eyes roaming across your face, whilst you found your own gaze doing the same. 

Your heartbeat seemed to drum harder and faster against your chest, your lungs trying to find an even pace to breathe at. 

But you weren’t the only one struggling with that. 

Because Logan’s breathing had become laboured as he looked at you, wanting the space between you both to be further so he could think clearer and not do something you both could regret, but at the same time, for you to be closer to him so he could cross that line. 

You swallowed thickly, trying your best to keep your gaze from his lips. 

You were failing. 

“Logan…”

“Y/n…”

The hand you had pressed against his chest slid up his chest before you took a wad of the loose fabric by his collar in your hands, holding him closer, begging for that line to be crossed. Just as you did so, his own hand pushed the hair from beside your face, his hand gripping onto the space between your neck and your shoulder. Maybe if he forced himself, he wouldn’t move his hand and he wouldn’t cross that line. 

“Alright, where are you two?”

You and Logan stilled. “Maybe if we’re quiet…”

Rogue started walking around. “You wouldn’t have gone to bed yet. Where are you? Oh, come on. I saw you both in the restaurant.”

You and Logan sighed and he closed his eyes, leaning a little further into you. You didn’t want him to leave. 

“Busted.”

Slowly, you and Logan came out from your hiding spot and Rogue spun around her heels. “There you both are.”

“Look, before you yell, you need to know something.”

Rogue crossed her arms, waiting. 

“It was Y/n’s idea.”

“Logan.”

But rather than yell, Rogue laughed a little. “Why does something tell me that’s a lie?”

Logan shrugged. “It might be part of a lie.”

You gave a sigh. He was hopeless. 

“We just wanted to make sure you were safe. And, if you want to know, we’ve already learnt our lesson.”

“Really?”

Logan nodded in agreement with you. “Just take our word for it.”

“So, how did your date go?”

Rogue smiled. “If you must know, we’re going out again next Saturday. He’s going to take me to the movies and then we’re gonna go bowling.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“It will be,” Rogue said. “So long as you two promise to not follow us this time?”

You crossed a sign over your heart. “I swear.”

Rogue waited for Logan to do the same, and only when you nudged him did he do so. “But I’m dropping you off.”

“Just agree,” you told Rogue. “It’ll be easier on all of us.”

Rogue agreed. “Fine. You can drop me off.”

Not long after that, both yourself and Logan went to bed whilst Rogue walked towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before doing the same. 

“Are we being overprotective?”

“She’s just a kid, Y/n. We’re allowed to be.”

Logan walked you to your door, both of you calling goodnight to each other. However, you didn’t fall asleep. 

At least for the first couple of hours. 

Mrs Keller thought you were married. 

Married to the same man you were friends with.

The same friend you had almost kissed. 

The same friend who had almost kissed you. 

By the time you woke up the next morning, you seemed to be the only one awake. It was no surprise though, considering you were still three hours off the clock having a one at the beginning of it. 

“Morning.”

You jumped a little when you heard a voice before you opened your eyes to confirm it was Rogue’s voice who had spoken to you. 

“What are you doing up? It’s 7 am. And a Sunday.”

Rogue gave a smile. “Could ask you the same thing.” Rogue told you. “Figured you’d be wrapped in Logan’s arms right now.”

Your back was to her as you opened up one of the doors to the fridge, however became completely still and forgot why you’d opened the damn thing in the first place. 

“What?”

Turning around, you saw Rogue and her smirk, sip at her coffee. 

“I saw you and Logan last night.”

Beside the bookcase? 

“At the restaurant?” Rogue was confused by the more than panicked look on your face. She had said she saw you both, when she got home last night, didn’t she. “You and Logan were sat at the table by the window?”

“Oh…” You felt your heart leave the vice you’d just locked it in. “Oh, yeah.”

Rogue smiled again. “Looked pretty cosy if you ask me.”

“Good job no one’s asking you.”

Milk. That’s why you opened the fridge. 

Taking the carton out, you closed it behind you and reached for a bowl and some cereal. 

“All snuggled up together, his arm around you. I was pretty sure he would have kissed you if the waiter didn’t interrupt. Though, if he didn’t, maybe you would have done more than kiss at that table.”

“Rogue!”

She laughed. “What? Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Seen the way he looks at you.”

She mumbled that last sentence into her coffee cup leaving you questioned just exactly what she meant by it. 

“It’s too early in the morning for this,” you grumbled to yourself, replacing the cereal box in the cabinet. 

“You could always go back to bed.” Rogue offered. “Or go and see if Logan wants some company.”

You turned around a slightly shocked, slightly disgusted look on your face. “Oh my god.”

“I’m kidding.” Rogue laughed out. “Kinda.”

“When did you grow up?” You asked out loud, coming to the daily realisation that Rogue wasn’t the little kid you had first met when she arrived at the school but was, in fact, very quickly on her way to becoming a full grown woman. After all, she had started taking on a small time tutoring job and she was still a couple months away from graduation. 

The rest of the day went smoothly. Well…as smooth as it could go when you were having a constant internal flashback to the night before. Mrs Keller and what she thought you and Logan were doing, it almost happening beside the bookcase, and then you walked in on him in his bathroom. 

He had said it was safe for you to come inside, and you had happened to see him shirtless a couple of times. Though never in sync with a time when at least two people on the planet thought you were married, another one was trying to convince you she saw, at the very least, something similar to what the others had and the two minutes spent beside the bookcase which you had thought about over and over. 

“Hank is asking if you want corn or peas.” You told Logan as you walked inside, trying your best not to yell or scream out loud and retreat away. 

“Either is fine. You okay?”

You snapped your eyes back to Logan’s face. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine. Have you talked to Rogue?”

“Not today,” he replied. “Why? Should I have done?”

You couldn’t help but shudder. “No. That kid is scary.”

You heard Logan laugh as you closed the door a little as you headed back out. 

“Hey, wait.”

You opened the door again, holding onto the frame for dear life. “Yeah?”

“About last night…”

“What about last night?” You tried your best to remain as casual as possible, though it didn’t help when you remembered Logan was practically a walking lie detector. 

He could hear your heartbeat. 

And it was only getting faster. 

You told yourself to calm down. 

It was only a question. 

A big question. 

That he hadn’t finished. 

Was he going to tell you to forget about it? Was he going to pretend it didn’t happen? Did it happen? Had you made the entire thing up? Was the line that you thought had blurred for a second been completely in bold this entire time and hadn’t shifted?

“Thanks…for coming with me…I know you would have gone anyway. But, I’m glad you didn’t try to stop me.”

You smirked a little. “Logan, you’re made of metal. The only practical way I could have is if I owned an industrial magnet.”

Logan chuckled a little. “Still. I’m glad you came. It’s nice to know the kid’s not alone, you know?”

You nodded. “I know. Anyway, I should probably…”

“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I’ll meet you down there.”

You nodded, letting your eyes take a mental picture of Logan before you shut the door again and headed downstairs and back into the kitchen. 

“He said either.”

Hank nodded and turned back to the stove. 

“You were up there for a while,” Rogue appeared by your side. “And you look a little flushed.”

You turned your head to look at her and glared. “I do not.”

“You do look a little red in the cheeks, Y/n.” Hank added from where he was standing, busying himself by the stove. 

“Maybe I’m coming down with something.” You pressed your hands to your cheeks to hide them. 

Rogue stood in front of you and pressed the back of her hand to your head. “You don’t feel hot, maybe- Oh, hey Logan!”

Rogue broke out into a wide grin.

Logan was a little shocked by Rogue’s enthusiasm. “Hey, kid.”

“Come here, does Y/n feel hot to you? She’s looking a little flushed.”

“Rogue.” You warned under your breath. But she just smiled and pulled Logan over where her hand was replaced by Logan’s. 

And there it was again. 

That same…difference. 

Just like when you stood in front of him when you both got back, before you hid beside the bookcase. 

“N-no. She feels…she feels okay.”

Rogue looked back at Hank who was trying his best to hide his smile. “Why, Logan, you’re looking a little flushed yourself.”

Logan quickly stepped back, as did you. Only, you fell into the counter and gripped onto it for dear life. 

You looked down at the floor. 

“Maybe you’re coming down with something, too. I hope it’s not catching.”

Logan shook his head. “I can’t get sick.”

Hank hummed. “Must be something else then.”

“Must be.” Logan’s voice was quiet as he looked at you and found you looking back. 

Though you couldn’t look for too long, feeling your cheeks heat up again. 

“I better-”

“Yeah, I’m gonna-”

Both yourself and Logan headed in opposite directions. Yourself out of the kitchen the way you came in, and Logan out through the back door and into the gardens. 

Eventually, you made it to your room and locked your door before moving over to the mirror. You did look flushed. Even more so when your brain projected the feeling of Logan’s hands on you from the night before, as well as the look on his face from thirty seconds ago. 

By the time dinner rolled around, yourself and Logan tried to keep your distance until you both suddenly found yourself seated beside each other, taking one look at each other and then taking a large gulp of your drink. 

Your main suspect for the forced seating arrangement was Rogue. She had been the one to lay out the cards. Three days previous, you were sure you had been sat beside her and Storm. 

And when you looked over to her and found her smiling in your direction, you had your confirmed culprit. 

For most of the night, you were kept distracted by the stories being told by everyone as you all caught up with one another from the past couple of months or so. 

It was a few days until things felt normal between you and Logan. At least to the extent where you didn’t feel yourself visibly flush at the sight of him. 

And everything seemed normal. 

Until Saturday. 

You had already left - Logan being the only one to know where you actually were heading off to. 

“Okay, but Logan, you’re not allowed to get out of the car.” Rogue told him. “You’re just dropping me off. And you’re not allowed to come into the movie theatre, either.”

“What if I want to see a movie?”

“Not tonight, you’re not.” Rogue told him. “I like this guy, okay. And I think having The Wolverine sat behind us both isn’t going to make things easier.”

Logan sighed. “Okay, fine. I won’t come into the movie theatre.”

“Promise?” 

Logan nodded, and crossed his heart. “Promise.”

“And you can’t send Y/n in, either.”

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. She’s busy.”

“Let me guess, on a date at the movie theatre?”

Logan held back his smirk. “No, smartass. She’s at a book club. But you can’t tell the others. She doesn’t want them to know.”

“Y/n’s part of a book club?”

Logan nodded and stifled a laugh as he flicked on his indicator and turned down a side street. “Yeah, it shocked me too.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious husband they’re all talking about?”

As a red light came on, Logan slammed on his breaks a little too hard. “What? How would you know about-”

“Y/n took me to the library. There were a load of women looking at her. She was outside but when I asked her about it she said it was nothing. But I definitely heard them talking about her being married.”

Logan looked back to the road. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah.”

“It's green.”

A car behind him honked and Logan quickly got moving, all the while feeling Rogue’s eyes on him. 

“Oh, my god.” Rogue smiled and turned back to the road in disbelief. 

“What?” 

Logan was beginning to feel a little panicked. Though he didn’t quite know why. 

“You are him.” Rogue stated. “Oh, my god. Is this what you meant by ‘learning your lesson’? Did something finally happen?”

Logan was confused. “Finally? What do you mean finally?”

“I mean finally.” Rogue repeated. “Jesus, Logan. Have you not seen the way you look at her? How she looks at you?”

“How she looks at me?” Logan questioned. 

Since when did driving Rogue to her second date become a time for confessions?

“Hank was right, you both really are as bad as each other.”

Logan had to shake his head. “Wait, Hank? Beast Hank?”

Rogue could help but laugh. 

For months Rogue had watched Logan and yourself get close to each other. She had to watch as the looks Logan gave you went from untrusted, to familiar, to friendly to…everything after the fact of trust. Not only could you see it in his eyes that he trusted you, but you could also see what he was too scared to admit to himself. 

He was in love with you. 

And had been for quite some time. 

Of course, Rogue had only noticed this in the last couple of months. 

Except, when talking with Hank as he cooked and she mostly watched and snacked on the parts he wasn’t using for the main meals, she realised it had been going on for years. 

How you had looked at Logan. Intrigue, civil, uncharted, familiar, friendly, safe and,,,love. 

And apparently Hank hadn’t been the only one in agony watching both of you. According to him, so were the rest of the team. 

They were all just surprised nothing had actually happened yet. 

“W-why are you laughing?” Logan’s gaze kept flicking from the passenger seat beside him to the road ahead until he finally pulled up outside the movie theatre. 

“Because you’re both idiots.”

Logan didn’t look entirely amused. “Thanks, kid.”

“Look, I could tell you but…you need to work this one out for yourself. Thanks for dropping me off.”

As Rogue stepped out of the car, she closed the door and walked away. However, a few paces from the car she stopped and turned back around. 

“Fuck it, I’m just gonna tell you.” 

Leaning back inside the car, Logan looked back at her. 

“You love her. And she loves you.” Rogue told him. “You’ve both loved each other for a long time and it’s about time you both do something about it before time passes and you’re both too chicken shit to do something about it. There is a reason everyone already thinks you're a couple, and that’s because when neither of you are thinking, you both act like it anyway. You should really see the way you look at each other, Lo. I hope I can find that some day, too. It’s rare. Don’t let it slip past you. Either of you.”

Rogue watched as Logan soaked in all of her words and then settled back behind the steering wheel. 

Reaching into her bag, Rogue pulled out a book. “This was on the counter when I came downstairs.”

Logan took it from her. It was a new book. The new book you would be discussing about. Tonight. 

“Figured she might need that. Maybe you can drop it off with her?”

Logan looked at Rogue and gave a smile. “Thanks, kid.”

Rogue shrugged. “Just mention me during your wedding speech.”

Shutting the car door, Rogue watched as Logan pulled out of his parking spot and drove down the street, turning the corner to head towards the address you had given him earlier that week. 

“Just in case you or Rogue needs me.” You had told him. 

Pulling up outside the house, KELLER written on the mailbox, Logan turned off the engine, took the book from the passenger seat and headed up the porch steps and knocked on the screen door. 

From inside he heard laughing before a familiar face opened up the door. 

“Oh, my. Logan, isn’t it?”

Logan nodded, trying his best to hide the flush on his cheeks. “Mrs Keller. I’m hoping Y/n is here. She left her book and I thought-”

Mrs Keller gave a wide smile and pushed open the screen door for him to come in. “Of course. The more the merrier. Your wife will be happy to see you, I’m sure. Follow me.”

As he did so, Logan soon found himself entering a second living room where around a dozen people were sitting in somewhat of a circle, either on the sofas or on the floor. 

“Look who’s come for a surprise visit!” Mrs Keller announced. 

Everyone turned with welcoming smiles and slightly shocked expressions. 

“Logan.” You weren’t expecting to see him. 

“Hey,” Logan breathed with a smile at seeing you. “Rogue. She picked up your book and I thought you might need it.”

You stood and took it from him softly. “Thanks.”

“Well, honey? Aren’t you going to give him a proper hello?”

Suddenly you and Logan felt a dozen pairs of eyes on you both and with a slight awkwardness, you leant up and kissed his cheek. 

“Oh, come on. Girls, I tell you. Last week they were like two teenagers.”

You felt your cheeks go bright red and you hid your face with the cover of your book. The only comfort was Logan’s hand that hadn’t left your hip since you stepped into him to kiss his cheek. 

“Oh, Logan, please. Will you stay?”

Logan looked around the room. It was the first time he understood the expression “Feeling like you were going to be eaten alive.”

“No, no. This is…your thing. I don’t want to intrude-”

“Nonsense! Besides, we’ve been dying to know more about our little mystery.” Mrs Keller said with nothing but affection. 

“Who knew mystery could have so much romance?” 

Logan turned to where the voice came from and by your reaction, he gauged the voice belonged to Prissy. Who’s name he would soon learn was Pricilla. 

“I’d love to.” Logan replied, looking back to Mrs Keller. 

“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and got comfortable in her chair. “Oh, Darwin, honey, come and sit by me so the lovebirds can sit together.”

The sofa in which Darwin had been sitting was as big as a seat and a half. So, when Logan did finally sit down, you were practically sitting on his lap, the only comfortable position you could find yourself in was tucked in by his side, your legs over his whilst his hand held your knees on his thighs. 

Thankfully, your back was supported by the arm of the chair, but either way you felt yourself melt into Logan’s side, his body heat warming you. The fire Mrs Keller had on in the hearth was enough to heat the room but there was just something about Logan’s warmth that made it…different. 

“Oh, you two just make the most adorable couple.” Mrs Keller smiled, watching the pair of you, noticing the smiles you gave each other as you both finally got comfortable in being so close to one another. “Like no one else is in the room.” 

Logan heard Rogue’s words echo inside of his head. 

She was right. 

“Oh, you have to tell us how you met? Please.” Daisy asked from the floor beside the coffee table. 

Prissy coughed. “Aren’t we more interested in discussing this week’s book?”

A chorus of “No” sounded out. 

With a shlump, Prissy sat back with a noise stuck at the back of her throat. 

“Oh, tell us how you met!” Darwin called out. “Start at the very beginning.”

“You know it’s gonna be a good story when they look at each other like that.” Daisy added on. 

Prissy leaned forward. “You know, if you want a good love story, I can always tell you about how me and my darling husband met.”

Dawin groaned. Loudly. “We already know your story, Pricilla.”

“God knows we’ve heard it enough,” Mrs Keller mumbled. 

“We want a new story and we want to hear about Y/n and Logan.”

You looked at Logan and Logan looked back. Something seemed different about him. It was almost like something was gleaming inside of him. You just couldn’t figure out what. Or why. 

But you loved seeing a new side of him. 

There was just something that made your stomach flip and your heart grow when Logan showed you another side of him. A side he didn’t let people see that often. Sometimes a side he wouldn’t let himself see. 

“We met at work.” Logan told them. 

“Yeah, he nearly bulldozed me in the Professor’s office.”

“I did not.”

“You did.” You countered. “I almost got a concussion from how hard you opened up that door.”

“You weren’t even near the door.”

“No, because I jumped out of the way when you did.”

Mrs Keller smiled. “Let me guess, you didn’t get off on the right foot?”

You shrugged. “Not particularly.”

“It took time…about six months before we had a real conversation. And even then it took time.”

Mrs Keller smiled with a knowing look. “The best ones always do.”

Over the next two hours, you and Logan were asked question after question. Most of them scolding you for not mentioning or bringing Logan to the book meetings sooner so they could all meet him. 

Eventually, you did get onto the book you had all read. Prissy spent most of the time talking about the book and Logan got to witness first how she took the descriptions of a bird and placed the conversation back on her husband and what they had done during the week. 

The first time, Logan could see it almost as sweet. After that it just got tedious. 

But he couldn’t care. Not when he felt you fall into his side, allowing for his arm to come around your back, his hand fanned out across the exposed skin from your hip where your t-shirt had come untucked from your jeans. 

As the fire in the hearth settled into a constant warmth, people started to get more relaxed and cosier, pulling up blankets, putting on Mrs Keller’s complimentary cosy socks. 

Apparently she had a pair for everyone. 

“Let me go and get some more snacks and then we can talk about chapter fifteen.” Mrs Keller gave a small gasp. “I didn’t see it coming.”

But you shot to your feet. “No, you sit down. Let me.”

“Oh, thank you, dear.”

Sitting back down, Logan stood with you and walked into the kitchen with you. 

For a moment, you both talked about the book club and everything that had just happened before a comfortable lul came and you both realised you had to talk about the elephant in the room. 

“We need to talk.” Logan told you. 

“Do we?”

“Rogue told me something and it’s been on my mind ever since. And I can’t stop thinking how much she might be right.”

You poured some pretzels from the jar into a section of the dish. “Really? It must be bad if you’re agreeing with her.”

“Can you just…look at me for a second?”

You stopped pouring the snacks and looked at Logan, only for him to grab your hands and hold them in his. Running his thumbs over your knuckles, you forced yourself out of your thoughts and back to focusing on the real Logan in front of you. 

“I think I’ve known it for a while, I just don’t think I’ve been able to let myself know it because, if I do…look, I’ve lost a lot of people.”

He was scaring you now. 

“Logan, what’s going on?”

“I’ve lost a lot of people,” he finally looked you in the eye. “But I’ve come to realise you are not someone I can lose, Y/n. I don’t want to lose you. But if I don’t tell you something now, there might be a day when I could still lose you anyway.”

“Logan, you’re scaring me. Has something happened? What did Rogue say to you? I told you not to talk to her. That kid can be scary.”

Logan chuckled at that. It was true. Especially more recently. Very recently, in fact. 

“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

You felt yourself falter and stiffen at his words. 

“You are the person I trust the most in this world, and I don’t say that lightly. I trust you and I love you. But I can’t lose you. So…” Logan took a breath. “Please tell me if I’m going to lose you because of this, because I don’t want to. I don’t want to ever lose you. Especially over something that I’ve done.”

“You…you love me?” You questioned. “Logan…how…when…Logan, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you…you just can’t.” 

You were in shock and disbelief. “I’m not someone you fall in love with.”

“Little late for that.”

“I’m being serious.” Pulling your hands from his, you walked away for a second. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed…you needed…

“So am I.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Logan…I…you…we…we don’t…”

“We don’t…what?” Logan asked you. 

“We don’t fit, Logan. We…we spent years building…us. Don’t you think that couples tend to know- if not instantly, a little sooner than us?”

“Y/n. I love you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I love you.”

Logan started walking closer to you, repeating his words with every step. 

“Logan, you don’t.”

Taking you by the shoulders, he looked you in the eyes. “Yes, I do. And…I’d wager to say you feel the same, too.”

“Logan…”

“Just listen to me.” Logan begged. “Please.”

And so you did. 

“Coming in here to tell you this? I didn’t expect you to tell me the same. I still don’t. I get you’re scared. Hell, I’m terrified. But the only thing that is keeping me from running out of that door is you. I know you, Y/n. And you know me, so when I stand here telling you that I love you, you know I’m not lying. You know that you are the only person I cannot lie to. I respect you too much to do that.” 

Logan continued. 

“But just now…you said ‘us’. And after what almost happened the other night and what happened in the kitchen with Hank…hell, even back there with the Town Gossip Board…”

Logan studied your face for a moment. You were fighting back tears, white knuckling the countertop beside you both.

“I can’t lose you, Y/n. So, please, tell me now. Just answer me this and if you want me to walk away I will. Do you love me?”

“Logan…”

Logan’s grip on you tightened for a moment as he bit his lip saying your name. He was desperate for an answer, wishing for you to say yes. For you to tell him not to walk away. 

He couldn’t lose you…but maybe he already had. 

“Please…” His voice broke. “Please.”

And then you broke. 

“Of course I love you.”

Pulling him in by his collar, you held your other hand against his face before kissing him. It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was full of desperate and an outburst of emotion that you couldn’t put into words. You could only hope he knew what you meant by your kiss. 

Almost instantly you felt his hands come to your waist before he pushed against you, kissing you back, allowing his arms to snake up and around your back, holding you flush against his chest. All the while, his lips caught yours once more after half a breath. 

Your tears dried up and your hand fell to Logan’s side as he turned you, your ass bumping against the lower counter in the kitchen. A low groan came from the back of Logan’s throat as your hand dipped under his t-shirt and your fingers raked across his skin and up the side of his torso. 

However, just as Logan was about to lift you onto the counter, you both heard a voice call out from the living room. 

“Did you manage to find the pretzels? They’re in the cabinet above the stove!”

You and Logan pulled away, breathless. With his hands tangled in your hair and your forehead pressed against his, Logan forced a swallow, his cheeks heating as he smiled, still feeling your hand on his skin. 

“Yeah, we’ve got em���!” Logan called out. “We’ll be there in a second.”

You let out a small laugh, as did Logan. 

“How long have you got left here?”

You turned your head to look at the rustic clock above the kitchen dresser. “About an hour.”

“Make it 45?”

“50.” You gave it as an offer. “I still want to find out what they thought about Chapter twenty two.”

Almost out of arm's reach, Logan pulled you back. “Hey.”

“What?” You asked, allowing yourself to fall back into him. 

Looking at you, Logan smiled before brushing the hair from your face and leaving you with a kiss that left you a little stunned and dizzy in the best way imaginable. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Wait.” Logan said once more, before pulling you back. You laughed a little. 

“If we spend any more time in here, Mrs Keller is going to think we’re about to defile her kitchen.”

“We almost did,” Logan smirked watching your face heat before he started fixing your hair and your top. 

And you did the same with him. 

Finally walking back into the living room with the snacks, you and Logan sat back down together, your legs draped over his lap all the while your fingers subtly played with the ends of his hair, allowing your nails to run up and down the back of his neck every once in a while that had him shifting in his seat. 

You were out of there within forty minutes. 

But not before Mrs Keller gave Logan his own pair of cosy socks. 

“Yellow and blue,” she told him. “For some reason, they speak to me. They’re yours. You’re an honorary member. Feel free to drop in any session. We’d love to hear more about you two.”

Both yourself and Logan smiled before walking back to the car where he opened up the door for you before walking around and getting into the driver's seat. 

It took all of a month before everyone found out you and Logan had finally come together. Rogue and Hank seemed the most relieved that something had finally snapped between you two.

You both spent most mornings and nights tangled in each other’s arms, finally free to admit the truth to each other. 

You had loved Logan for a long time. And he had loved you just as long. 

Neither of you planned on stopping that any time soon. 

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 1 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.3k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, this chapter is pretty mild so not many tags are necessary ig?

a/n. thank you to everyone who's shown excitement for this series so far! i see you all, and i appreciate each and every one of you ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ and i'd love to hear from you as we go through this process together!

links. masterlist, ao3

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think someone with a time-slowing quirk is manipulating this shoebox of a room they unceremoniously stuffed you in with nothing but this middle-aged, bearded man roughly 30 minutes ago.

If 30 minutes is even an accurate approximation.

The said man is clicking away at his keyboard behind the desk in front of you, humming a non-descript tune, and, having already studied the room that seems to be an abandoned office, you take the opportunity to clock him. Aside from being around his mid-40s and sporting a full-grown beard, there’s something about him that rings the metaphorical alarms in your mind, signaling some sense of familiarity.

And it’s either you need to work on your subtlety or he’s just plain out observant, because he must have noticed your staring, shifting his gaze from his laptop screen toward you, mouth formed in a friendly smile. “Getting antsy?”

“I—” you start, before trailing off. You weigh your options for a second, before settling with: “It’s hard not to be, sir. Would you care to tell me what I’m here for?”

At that, the man merely purses his lips in a thin line. “Unfortunately, it’s not my place to say. I was just assigned to meet you here. At least,” he checks his silver-plated watch, “until further company arrives.”

You feel yourself frown. “And the men who arrived out of nowhere and fetched me from my apartment?”

He nods, “They were simply assigned to get you, yes.”

A burning question bubbles right up your throat, but you tamp it down, thinking better against it. It’s too soon, you think. You have to dig a bit deeper. And so instead, you finally prod at that inkling from a moment ago that’s been vying for your attention.

“Have we met before, sir?”

That must’ve been the right thing to ask, because the man visibly lights up. He swivels on his office chair, turning a bit so that he’s now fully facing you. “Why, yes! I thought you wouldn’t remember.”

You toss him the most genuine smile you can muster back in courtesy, but also to goad him into continuing. You hope that’s enough for now. “From a while back, right?”

“Yes!” he enthusiastically responds, whatever document he was working on now completely forgotten. “I was one of your earliest escorts until the commission relocated me overseas. I just got reassigned to you for this project, you see.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

However, you don’t get to revel in how you successfully coaxed information and confirmation out of him without lifting much of a finger, because he quickly realizes his mistake. He splutters as you watch the blood drain from his face, and you can’t help but feel bad for the man.

“Don’t worry,” you offer with that placating tone you’ve mastered over the years. “I won’t tell them you just said all that.”

He eyes you suspiciously, as if he’s debating whether or not you’re saying the truth, and you’ve half a mind to use it on him just so that the sole person you’re stuck in this jail-like space isn’t looking at you like you’re after his head, but you don’t get past considering that because the only set of doors bursts open and in comes an all-too-familiar face.

The both of you whip away from your stare down to look at the unannounced guest, and you instantly stiffen when you get a good look at the person leading the group.

Clad in a two-piece slate gray suit, the head of the Special Quirks department of Japan’s Hero Commission waltzes in, seemingly decades older than the last time you saw him. It hasn’t even been five years since, you think, yet he’s aged so much. Trailing right behind him is the woman you vaguely remember trailblazing the Missions committee, hair pinned up in a no-nonsense low bun and sporting a navy blazer and skirt combo.

And, perhaps in an effort to ground yourself in the face of impending danger that always came with the two, you’re about to look down at what you’re wearing in comparison, which, you recall is a baggy T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants you never intended for people to see you wear, when it happens.

You lock eyes with the third and last person entering the room, and instantly it’s like you’re doused with a sobering bucket of ice-cold water at the same time someone lights a fire under your ass. One glimpse at his firey gaze has your brain screaming at you to look away—anywhere, anywhere but at him—and pretend that didn’t just happen all the while mentally willing him away from existence, but you find yourself frozen in your seat.

Bakugou, who’s dressed casually in a plain black shirt and loose jeans, stares right back as he follows the two officials. You’re the first one to break eye contact, and words aren’t uttered as the guy from earlier scurries out of his seat, offering it to Asahi, the man in the gray suit, who accepts it thanklessly. Moriyama takes the seat the underling drags next to Asahi, and Bakugou plops himself down on the one around a foot to your left, the both of you now facing them.

“Thank you, Tanaka-san,” Asahi says, finally breaking the silence. The familiar escort who you now remember as Tanaka only bows at him, before standing silently to the side.

At that, Asahi shifts to regard you, the corners of his lips twisting upwards in what you think is an effort to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. With both arms on top of the hardwood desk and hands clasped together, he clears his throat.

He says your name as a start, which sends an eerie tingle down your spine. “Long time no see, huh?”

You don’t know how to reply to that, also acutely aware of the man beside you, so you merely nod.

“We apologize for dragging you here on your day off,” he continues, “It must’ve been quite jarring—having our men be at your doorstep.”

You fight back the urge to ask him how the hell he knows it’s your day off today, deciding in the last second you don’t want to know the answer. Frankly, you wouldn’t be shocked if he said they’d been keeping tabs on you and that they even know what brand of underwear you wear.

“I was surprised, I’m not gonna lie,” you respond, voice small. And just because you’re over this whole suspense factor, you cut to the chase. “What’s this all about, Asahi-san?”

“Skipping the pleasantries, aren’t we?” he chuckles, and you resist the itch to scowl at him. You never liked the guy—although you think it must have to do with all those extreme assessments he made you take growing up. To your relief, though, he relents. “I’ll get straight to it, then. We have an important mission for you.”

And as if you weren’t already stiff enough, you feel yourself tense even more, and the action doesn’t go missed by Bakugou, whose eyes you feel boring into the side of your face.

Asahi takes your stunned silence as a cue for him to go on. His gaze drifts to the pro-hero beside you, a knowing smirk decorating his features. “I trust that you’ve met?”

Despite yourself, you chance a glance at the ash-blonde, only to find him already looking at you. You feel yourself flame as he studies you with mild recognition, as if he’s seen you before but can’t quite figure out where.

Bakugou finally speaks up after a beat, voice gruff and eyes remaining locked on yours. “UA Gen Ed, same batch as me, right?”

“Y-yeah,” you reply dumbly, surprised he even remembers. “And you’re pro-hero Dynamight.”

To that, he gives you a curt nod, donning a serious expression as he turns back to face Asahi. “Go on and brief her about it already. I ain’t got all day.”

“We’re getting to that, Bakugou,” the old-ish man retorts, seemingly unfazed by the pro-hero’s impatience, before readjusting his focus to you. “As I’ve said, we’re assigning you to a very crucial mission. We got word yesterday that an up-and-rising quirk supremacist group is planning an attack somewhere in the city.”

“A-attack?” you croak, “Who’re they gonna attack?”

“That we’re not sure yet,” Moriyama joins in on the conversation, her countenance stern. “But we’re guessing quirkless individuals or people with weak quirks. We won’t know for sure, though, unless we get people on the inside.”

“And that’s where you two come in,” Asahi finishes, eyes darting back and forth between you and the man beside you. “You’re going undercover.”

You gawk at him, suddenly robbed of all words. From the corner of your vision, you sense Bakugou side-eye you, and that’s all the warning you get for what he’s about to say next.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, prominently exasperated by the entire situation. “‘s like you’re feeding a sheep to the fucking wolves.”

Instantly, you feel a sense of indignation wash over you at the comment, which is immediately followed by the familiar feeling of resignation.

You’ve gone through these motions before. Over and over again, in fact.

And normally, you’d let snide comments about the status of your quirk slide, like you’ve been taught to the entirety of your life, but apparently this time that’s not an option.

Because Moriyama gives him a pointed look, as if chastising him on your behalf. You don’t dare to check how Bakugou’s receiving it, but you’re assuming not well.

But before the pro-hero can say something in his defense or provoke the woman, Asahi interjects with a good-natured laugh. “Slow down there, hero. Don’t get too cocky now that you just got named Vogue Japan’s Bachelor of the Year.”

Bakugou doesn’t miss a beat. “Shut the fuck up.”

With a dismissive wave of a hand, Asahi continues. “And no, I am not making a reckless move here,” the middle-aged man peers at you, “This woman right here has a special quirk.”

At that, you steal a glance at Bakugou, and the look on his face betrays the thing he’s evidently trying hard not to say.

‘What’s so special about this girl from Gen Ed?’

He manages not to blurt that out, though, instead going for: “How special?”

“Let’s just say it’s because of her that departments like mine exist in the commission.”

“Quit being fucking cryptic,” Bakugou spits out, just as you say: “It’s really not that special, though.”

That catches his attention, and you feel yourself shrink when his intense, crimson eyes land on you. You, however, fight to maintain his scrutinizing gaze when he pipes up. “What can you do, huh?”

“I—”

“How ‘bout you show him, dear?” Moriyama cuts you off with a knowing smile.

You don’t get to argue because the woman promptly sends Tanaka off to the door, and the four of you watch the guy as he rushes out, leaving you in a few moments of silence, before hurriedly walking back in with a nervous-looking young man in tow.

You decide then and there that you really don’t want to do this.

“An intern, Moriyama-san,” Tanaka announces in front of you with a booming voice, gesturing to the person beside him. “Just as you requested.”

“The hell do we nee—”

“Go on, Y/N,” Asahi encourages with a quiet voice, which you note is in an attempt to not be heard by the poor intern.

The poor intern who’s gaping at #2 pro-hero Dynamight, looking like his soul just left his lean body.

Your gaze shifts between the pro-hero and the young man, and you sit watching the silent exchange unfold before you. You can tell Bakugou is getting annoyed by the unabashed attention of someone who’s likely a fan, and the latter isn’t looking all too hot.

And so with reluctance, you do it.

“Hey,” you call out to the intern, who whips to look at you after another attempt when he doesn’t respond to the first.

“Wha—” he starts, but trails off when you decisively tug on the imaginary strings, and in a split second, it’s like the nerves that were just frying his system a beat ago get washed off his body, his face morphing to that of tranquil calmness in a blink of an eye.

You toss him a tight-lipped smile as he stares right back at you, serene and perhaps a tad bit confused, although you doubt someone not privy to your ability could recognize it on his face.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

You turn to look at Asahi, who’s now leaning back on the office chair with a proud grin on his face, as if he’s the one who just did the demonstration.

You try to suppress the mild annoyance at the sight of him.

You reason to yourself that he’s the one who made all this possible, after all. He deserves to be proud of the stunt you just pulled, at least to some extent.

And just as quickly as he entered, the intern is promptly ushered out of the area by Tanaka. Once the door clicks closed, you then shift to examine Bakugou, who you quickly find is already staring at you, an inexplicable expression etched across his sharp features.

“You make people calm, is that it?”

“Oh, she can do much more than that, boy,” Asahi boasts. “She has the ability to tamper with any person’s emotions. She can diffuse or exacerbate existing ones or transform them into another affect entirely.”

“But very few people know that, Bakugou,” Moriyama adds with a warning edge to her tone. “It’s why the commission took her under its wing at such a young age. It’s why—”

“You disguised her quirk as something else and made her take the Gen Ed route.” Bakugou finishes with such certainty that catches you off guard, despite being well-versed in the fact that he is insanely perceptive.

You would know. Really, you would.

Because that’s one of the main reasons why you liked—

“It’s so that the wrong people don’t catch wind of her and her quirk, Bakugou,” Asahi supplements. “It’s for that very reason we’ve named her quirk as luck instead of manipulation. Which is what you’re going to do undercover.”

“What’s he gonna do, exactly?” you ask, tilting your head to gesture to the pro-hero beside you.

“He’ll infiltrate the group alongside you, dear,” Moriyama answers. “He’s one of the best heroes we have, and well…”

She glances at Bakugou with such hesitance that juxtaposes the confidence she’s been sporting this entire exchange, before continuing. “…We’ve heard this group has been eyeing to recruit Bakugou, specifically.”

You almost choke on your spit.

Recruit the #2 pro-hero of Japan?

What kind of stupid agenda is that?

To your surprise, Bakugou doesn’t say anything in response to Moriyama’s weighty statement, his usually penetrating gaze fixed on the ground.

“He’ll make sure you’ll be safe, Y/N,” Asahi furthers. “He’ll introduce you to them as a useful tool, what with your ‘luck’, which you’ll tell them works by boosting the chances of success of the people you’re working with. And, given how your quirk actually operates, Bakugou here will emphasize your importance by requesting for their protection of you, so that you can get closer to the people you’ll need to manipulate.”

“How’s he gonna do that without raising suspicion?” you can’t help but ask.

“That’s the thing,” Asahi quips, before heaving a deep sigh. “At this point, there’s no saying for sure, but you’re gonna have to be ready to play the part of a couple if the situation calls for it.”

“A c-couple?” you barely manage to get out.

To that, Asahi and Moriyama only nod at you with such seriousness that you can’t find it in you to protest any further. Still, you try to express your uneasiness.

“I don’t know—if I can pull that off. I—”

“You have your quirk at your disposal, Y/N,” Moriyama assures you, to your chagrin. “You’ve trained hard enough to know when and how to use it.”

Well.

There’s not much left for you to do than nod in resignation, especially with the finality of her tone, so you do just that.

None of you says anything for a brief moment after that, a rather tense silence enveloping the tiny office. And you’re about to ask them one more time if they’re fucking sure about all this, but Asahi beats you to it.

“Do either of you have any more questions?”

You open your mouth to try again but this time Bakugou speaks first. “I do. Let’s say shit goes down and we have to engage this shitty ass group in combat. Does she know how to fight? You know, beyond just playing with emotions?”

You feel yourself bristle, and before your brain can catch up and rein you in, your mouth is already running off. “I’ve had extensive close-combat training, actually. So worry about saving your own ass, hero.”

Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to spew something right back at you, though, because Asahi cuts the tension with a booming laugh. “She actually has, Bakugou. Like I said, we’ve been training her since her quirk manifested.”

“Really?” he asks, a little bit too sarcastically for your taste. “And what’s in it for you, huh, Y/N?” the pro-hero turns to regard you, tone riddled with just enough taunt to make your blood simmer. “Why’re you going along with their whim?”

“They pay well,” you state as simply as you can. “My job as a guidance counselor isn’t exactly the most lucrative.”

“That we do,” Asahi chimes in before Bakugou can drop any borderline degrading remark, which you’re thankful for. You don’t know if you can handle any more backhanded comments from the man you used to fucking dream about way back in high school, who—apparently—also happens to be the man you’re gonna have to pretend you’re dating if things go south.

“If you don’t have any more questions,” Moriyama interjects, “There’s one last thing. We don’t expect them to go lax on either of you despite what you can bring to the table. So anticipate restrictions on your speech and movements—there’s a high probability that they’re gonna place bugs and trackers on you. The same goes for your online footprint.”

At that, you and Bakugou wordlessly nod in unison, the gravity of what you’re about to get yourself into finally sinking in. Shortly after, Moriyama goes through a few more technical details before announcing that they have another meeting to attend, and just like that, and with a promise to get in touch soon albeit clandestinely, she and Asahi exit from the very door they entered what seemed like an eternity ago.

Leaving you and Bakugou.

Alone.

Which is something you’re going to have to get used to for what lies ahead.

But that shit can wait until tomorrow, when the mission officially starts.

And so with much vigor, you quickly gather the purse you barely managed to bring with you when you got dragged out of your apartment earlier this evening, and stand. Bakugou’s head tilts up to look at you when you turn to regard him, an eyebrow raised in question.

“What?”

You force a smile. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Bakugou-san.” Not. “See you tomorrow, then.”

And, before he can say anything in return, you spin on your heel and leave without looking back.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru | @junehasnotbeenfound @sugalarity @haechansbbg @sikuthealien @reiniella3 @ita606 @xoxoblueyy @mutsu422 @eyesforbkg @kalulakunundrum @venus-xxoo @lemuhr @pinkpantheris @ashers-playpen @bakugouswh0r3

[goldenstring6123]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNXxJ8TM/

THIS IS SO CUTE PLS I CAN SO CLEARLY SEE THE LADS MEN DOING THIS 😭 and the comment section had me dying where is evb finding these MEN 😔🙏

Lnds: Sleepy time!

Warning: No warnings, afab!reader, fem!reader

Authors note: Fluff (not a lot of it) and a bit of domestic stuff.

Sylus:

It had been 30 minutes since you left the bedroom. Sylus was already well on his side of the mattress, reading the news while waiting for you to come back. He thought you were just up and about doing your normal routine of drinking herbal tea and doing skincare, but it was taking you far longer than usual.

He settled the tablet down on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom. He searched for you in every room he passed by, and when he arrived at the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, there you were, perfectly tucked in under the unused duvet.

You were curled into a ball and too engrossed in the video you were watching; you didn't even notice the black fuzzy threads wrapping around your weird curled-up position. You lifted off from the bed, and when you came to, the view was of Sylus' back as you involuntarily made your way back to his bedroom.

"So you're not going to put me down?" you asked, paying attention to the video again. "Are manners not a thing anymore?"

The brooding man didn't spare you a glance. "I'm not open for discussion. You're supposed to sleep in my bedroom. Our bedroom."

"I just wanted a bed all to myself," you uttered. Here you were, planning what to watch and what to eat for the whole night, and this guy managed to foil it.

"I don't share the same sentiment, sweetie. You have the bed every time I'm overseas on a work trip. It's even infested with your colorful pillows," he opened the door to the bedroom and reeled you in, gesturing to your side of the bed which had vibrant pillows and bed 'pets,' as you like to refer to them.

"You really can't sleep without me, can you, Mr. Big guy? Afraid that someone's under the bed or something?"

"I'm more afraid that you're going to ravage my food pantry when you're not in my line of sight."

"The guest bedroom is nowhere near the pantry and I don't ravage it—I simply take a few snacks," you clarified. "Greg would be sad if the food spoils."

"Either way, you sleep in my bedroom or my couch, nowhere else, sweetie."

"Admit it: You like my company, don't you?" You gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yes, yes," Sylus agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You make a good meat shield when we get attacked in this bedroom."

"Oh wow. Reduced to a shield." You rolled your eyes in return and slipped under the covers. "That's Onychinus' leader for you."

"Right. Are you done now? I still have an early schedule for tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed now. You can sleep."

"Good. Now come here." Sylus opened his arms and you found yourself huddled right into it like it was the perfect mold. You shifted a bit and could feel his muscles relax against your back.

"Why did you feel the need to sleep in the guest room tonight?" Sylus asked under his breath.

"I was planning on reading comics all night. Tara recommended a new romance comic which I like, but knowing you, you'd probably take my phone away."

"Then it looks like I will be the bad guy tonight."

"Maybe. Until you fall asleep." You shrugged.

You hear the handcuffs being pulled out.

Shit.

Xavier:

3:02 AM, it says on the clock. You weren't on the bed. It was cold and it was proof that you never went on it, which was odd considering you told sleepy little Xavier that you were going to stay over. Poor little tired hunter was exhausted after a day's work and couldn't help but doze off while watching you do your little night ritual of moisturizing and doing a facemask.

Xavier sat on the side of the bed, letting out a big yawn. He didn't know where you were, but all he knew was that he didn't like being alone. From his palm, a faint whirlpool of light emanated, enough to guide him through his dark abode. His first thought was maybe you were watching in the living room. You weren't there. He then headed to the small bedroom right beside his, a spare one for guests, but it went unused when you both shared the same bed now.

He tried his best to quietly open the door. There he saw a little bump on the mattress and it made his heart squeeze; you were adorable and looked so small. Xavier tiptoed and folded the blanket away from you. He took a deep breath and lifted you up bridal style, pressing you against his chest.

"hm?…Xavier?" you slurred, vision dark and blurry.

"I'm moving you to our bedroom," he kissed the top of your head and continued his journey to the other room.

"You were sleeping," you paused, looking for the word. The drowsiness didn't seem to go away. "didn't want to…disturb you."

Xavier wanted to say something, but he and you both arrived at the side of the bed. He gently laid you down and placed a pillow between your limbs, which you automatically hugged. Xavier crawled to his side of the bed and yanked the cover over the both of you. Though you both weren't exactly touching, the little hunter's heart eased at your presence.

Gladly, he went back to sleep, hoping to maybe see you in his dreams.

Zayne:

Zayne's house was far too quiet when he arrived. It was only 7 o'clock, and by then you'd usually be in the kitchen, peeking your head out with a ladle in hand. There was no "welcome back" nor a simple "hello," but what did he expect? You were mad at him.

It's a shallow fight, really. Zayne decided to put you on alcohol time-out and took your hidden beers that you were so ready to drink after a grueling day at work. Zayne's judgment was far better than yours because when you get drunk beyond mental capacity, you tend to make a mess of the house, and you turn into a rage-filled, feisty lady. Moreover, you'd been chain-drinking for the whole week, and Zayne was getting concerned because you kept having hangovers.

His hands twisted on the knob to the little library of his house, where he would always find you on nights like these. There you were, curled in the lazy boy sofa and turned away from him. You were awake, but you didn't want to look at your lover.

"I'm home," Zayne declared.

"Dinner's in the fridge. Heat it up," you responded and closed your eyes. Zayne's footsteps grew closer and closer to you, and you felt his palm land on your shoulder.

"Your back will hurt if you sleep in that position."

The sofa might look soft and admittedly it's pretty comfortable to sit on for a long period of time, but with the curled-up position you have, it was bound to hurt when you fall asleep.

"I'm perfectly fine," you replied.

"Don't be stubborn." Zayne decided to pick you up. You wanted to thrash and get out of his grasp, but then you would look childish.

"I don't want to be with you tonight."

Zayne kept his lips in a thin line. He's more than aware that you're saying that because you're mad, but still—It hurts to hear it from you.

Gently, Zayne settled you in the middle of the bed. "I'll sleep in the living room. Stay here," he whispered and tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was dark in the bedroom, so you couldn't exactly see him. You rolled over to face away from your lover and patiently waited for him to leave.

1:34 AM. You couldn't sleep. A can of beer would do you some good, but your tongue wasn't craving the bitterness of it. Instead, your mind looped over to a few hours ago when you said something that you didn't mean. It was harsh now that you think about it.

Now Zayne is keeping his distance from you. The owner of the house is sleeping on the couch.

With two pillows and a blanket in hand, you made your way down the flight of mahogany stairs. The living room was in full view, and Zayne was fast asleep on the couch. You nudged the two ottomans to the space between the coffee table and the main sofa. Then you threw the pillows and spread the blanket wide, letting it flutter down while you made yourself fit on the ottoman chairs.

You left a few spaces between you and Zayne, one that was filled by the cold pillow.

2:46 AM. Zayne stirred awake and found a blanket draped over his body. Beside him was his supposedly angry lover, clutching the hem of his shirt. He stared up into the chandelier above and took the pillow that was bordering between them, used it as his own, and pulled you closer, nudging the blanket over both of you even more.

Rafayel:

He's standing by the doorway, tapping his foot while a plushie was tucked under his armpit. He was frowning, and you could even see it through the dark.

"What?" you asked, shining the phone his way.

"So you're going to leave me alone tonight? Is that how you're going to play?" He was mad-mad, but that's why you were confused.

"Hey, drama king—you were complaining earlier in the day about my bad sleeping habits—I'm giving you the bed now so you can be at ease, but now you're mad at me again. Do you want me to sleep on the floor of your bedroom or something?"

"Duh? Of course not. I'm just complaining because it's true, but I never said you should sleep in the guest room."

"Then are you going to be alright with my sleeping habits?"

"No."

"Then sleep alone."

An audible gasp could be seen on the expression of the Lemurian. He looked so offended with the end of the conversation, but you weren't having it, so you plopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers, hoping that he'd go away.

The moment you peeked back out, you were rapidly crushed under heavy weight, making you sink to the bottom of the bed. Rafayel lay spread out on top of you, keeping you in your position and crushing you underneath him.

"Get off me! You're heavy!" You struggled underneath the blanket, nudging him and kicking him, but he pretended to be a dead body floating in the water. Rafayel kept still; if verbal convincing won't work, then he'll have to make you change your mind.

"Fine! Fine! I'll sleep with you!" you screamed. He rolled to the side, propped his elbows up, and rested his head on his palm. You just wanted to rub that triumphant grin off his face. He happily scooted underneath the blankets and hogged your side of the bed, wrapping his hand around you and shutting his eyes.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it further and decided to head to bed as well.

You were stirred awake by a strain in your neck. The lids of your eyes lifted at the electrifying pain that traveled to your head. You squinted, barely able to process the faint blue outside the window. Your body was spread out again, and nearby you could see Rafayel making use of the awkward space he was left with.

Guilt washed over your tired body.

Without much thought left, you held onto two pillows and let your body slip down to the carpeted floor. You hugged the pillow and placed another one under your head, liking the furry texture that brushed the side of your bare arms and legs. You closed your eyes again and let the tiredness wash over you.

It was cold for a summer morning. A large yawn escaped your lips and you patiently waited for your eyes to focus, and when they did, your eyes widened immediately at the beautiful sight of a sleeping Lemurian. Rafayel, too, was now on the floor, using his own arm as a pillow.

You tapped on his shoulder, and he just pulled you down back to the floor. "Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his face in your collar. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and you didn't have to go to work. You could indulge him in the meantime.

Author's footnotes: lol the tiktok was very cute, something that you'd see in a rom-com enemies to lovers sort of romance story. It would be a pretty redundant snippet if every situation is the same for the love interest so I took the liberty of changing things a bit.

Layout by me, using Canva Premium | Do not repost

[thanksbutno98]

Kitchen Sink

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price comes home from deployment excited to see his family, only there’s an unexpected guest.

Warnings: NSWF, sexual themes, swearing, violence, angst, domestic argument, comfort, not edited

——————

Relief. That’s what John felt every time he pulled up the long driveway after being gone overseas. Seeing that the lawn needed to be mowed, the chicken coop needed some patching up, or the list of work you had waiting for him was a reminder he was home. That life had carried on but not the same. It could never be the same without him and as much as that hurt in some moments, today, on the day he arrived home it didn’t. It meant his family needed him. That you needed him.

Stepping out of his old beat up truck John grabbed his worn military grade duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. He took a moment to check his beard in the side view mirror of his car and practiced that charming smile he knew made you weak in the knees. It was good to be home and John was looking forward to your warm embrace and a home cooked meal.

Making his way inside John was greeted with an empty kitchen. At least he thought it was. Breathing deeply John took in the familiar scent of home. He could smell that you had baked something with blueberries, the lingering scent of your candles, and the lemon scented soap you liked. Everything looked the same to him. The kids shoes were in a pile by the back door instead of neatly put away. You had flowers from your garden in a vase on the kitchen table. But what caught John’s eye were the baked goods sitting out on the kitchen island waiting for him. There was a piece of construction paper next to the plate that read ‘Welcome Home!’ that was decorated by his three children.

“She must be on a run.” John spoke to himself.

Dropping his bag by the door and kicking off his boots John went straight for the blueberry muffins on the counter. He knew you made these special for him. You were always sweet like that, cooking and baking his favorite things his first day home. Rounding the island to grab a glass of milk John stopped in his tracks.

“Who the hell are you?” It came out a lot ruder than John knew you would appreciate; but he didn’t care.

There was a man in his home tucked under the kitchen sink. This stranger had half his torso under the sink and was clearly fiddling with something that needed fixing. From where John stood he could only see scuffed work boots, old jeans that were worn at the knees, and a grey long sleeve that rode up and revealed this mans stomach. Now, John wasn’t one to check out other men. But it was hard to miss this guys v-shaped waist, toned abdomen that somehow looked better than John’s, and the dark black hair that disappeared under this man’s tool belt.

Everything in front of John were the things you would make cheeky comments about if he were the man under the sink. How you would need to find a way to repay him and some more flirting. The memory of you sitting down in his lap the last time he fixed the sink playing in his head. Now, seeing someone else in the position he was meant to be had him prickling up. John was like a dog having his territory encroached on; ready to fight.

“Huh?” The man stopped what he was doing, the sound of his tools being placed on the tile feeling louder in John’s pulsing ears.

It took a second but soon the man was sliding out from under the kitchen sink and looking up at John with a confused expression.

Fuck.

The guy was good looking too. Wavy jet black hair and bright blue eyes, he was strikingly handsome. He had a beard just as thick as John’s and equally well maintained. His thick eyebrow quirked up at John seemingly confused on the interruption.

“Who the hell are you?” John reiterated coming off rude and irritable.

“You must be Y/N’s brother in law. She said you were stopping by.” This comment only infuriated John further but the man continued before John could lash out.

“I’m Tim. Moved in down the street a couple weeks ago. Y/N needed some help with a few things around the place since her husband’s away.” Tim didn’t bother standing to shake John’s hand. He simply ducked back under the sink and carried on.

“Is that so?” John spoke evenly, swallowing his anger.

This was infuriating. John was suppose to be the one under that sink fixing who knows what. It was he who needed to do this to get the praise you normally showered upon him for fixing the house. But now you had some other man doing it for you? A man who so casually had his abs on display. It also got under John’s skin how this guy assumed he was your brother in law not your actual husband. It made John’s mind wander to why that was the immediate assumption.

Little did John know that Tim thought this because you talked so highly of John. The way you spoke about your husband made most people think John was a friendly man. You didn’t do it on purpose, but you were so in love with John that the way you spoke about him didn’t always characterize him accurately. It was common for you to skip over his stoic demeanor and grumpy nature because he was only like that from time to time with you and the kids. You got the fun and playful side of John while others got his stoney and skeptical side. So, when John was rude just now Tim assumed this couldn’t be your husband because the man you spoke about would have to be perfectly friendly.

“What’s your brother like? She has him out to be this larger than life block. Seems to believe he can move heaven and earth.” The sardonic comments were followed with a playful laugh.

“I would move heaven and earth if she asked.” John spoke dryly.

There was a moment of silence as Tim stilled underneath the sink. It seemed to John that it was sinking in to this stranger who he was. Poking his head out for only a second Tim looked at John again. It wasn’t a look of embarrassment but more of genuine surprise. It seemed to catch Tim off guard John was in fact your husband.

“Oh, you’re the husband.” It was said matter of factly.

John was ready to yank this guy by the legs and throw him out the back door. Pushing up his sleeves to his elbows John was just about to do that until you walked into the room.

“John!” You squealed at the sight of him.

It had been three weeks since you last saw the man you loved most dearly. And here he was with that scowl you loved to kiss away and dressed so handsomely. John was in blue jeans, a white t-shirt with a brown flannel thrown over it, and those funny socks with avocados on them that Lily picked out as his birthday present this past year. His beard was overgrown and he needed a haircut but you loved when he looked all scruffy like this.

“Hello, darling.” Appearing before him was enough of a distraction John halted in his tracks.

Violence was never a knee jerk reaction when home, that part of John turned off almost instantly around your family. But with someone threatening John’s roll in the house had him feeling ready to throw a punch. It was partially due to having been deployed and having been involved in more hand to hand combat than usual.

You didn’t know it but you had saved John from catching an assault charge.

Throwing yourself into his arms you had completely forgotten you asked Tim to fix the sink. It felt amazing to feel John hold you and how the tension of his muscles seemed to melt with you in his arms. He smelled oaky with a twinge of musky sweat from the hot summer day.

“I missed you.” You whispered into his solid chest. But something felt different all of a sudden. John was tense again which was unlike him when he arrived home.

“You okay?” Pulling your head from John’s firm chest you gazed up at him lovingly. You thought maybe this last deployment was tougher than he let on when he called you yesterday.

Then you saw it. Those furrowed brows and cut eyes. It was the possessive stare you had become all to accustom to since before John was able to call you his and you called him yours. Following that violent stare you watched as it was stuck on Tim, your new neighbor.

In an instant your own eyes cut and you felt an annoyance take over. John hadn’t been home five minutes and you knew he was already picking a fight. He could be so territorial at times you knew he hated seeing another man in your home.

“Tim’s fixing the sink. I didn’t know when you’d be home today and the pipe was spraying water everywhere.” Going on the defense so John wouldn’t get riled up was your knee jerk reaction.

“Could’ve called me.” John grumbled and slipped away from you.

You weren’t sure if John was upset you asked someone else to fix something or if he was purely moody because he didn’t like having a stranger in the house. When John came home he usually liked staying away from all people besides you and your children. He took solace in the simplicity of family life and once he was feeling refreshed and like he made up for lost time John was back to being social.

“No need to explain yourself on my account.” Tim said as he gathered his things and shut the cabinet under the sink.

The remark had you wondering if you were explaining yourself too much. If you were, you hoped it didn’t come across as if you were hiding something. That wasn’t your intention what so ever. Little did you know that was exactly what your husband thought. It raised John’s hackles thinking you were being shady about having this stranger over and having him do something you normally declared made John sexy.

“Your wife was very kind and baked me and my son some lovely brownies when we moved in two weeks ago.” Tim was now standing with his tool kit in hand and a confident smile. John didn’t even like brownies but knowing this asshole got them instead of him only added to the building anger.

“I’m a handyman so if you ever need any help I’m only down the street.” Nodding his head Tim finally stuck out his hand for a proper introduction.

John shook it, his gaze staying stoic and calm. No part of John wanted this man to know he had gotten worked up at his presence; that would be a sign of weakness. And John had every intention of coming off collected with a strong marriage unable to be penetrated. It was more than the fact Tim was here doing John’s husbandly duties that made John frustrated yet act cordially. It was the fact he was a neighbor now and the last thing John needed was for your family to be seen as trouble in the neighborhood. Evelyn had done enough to make your reputation subpar since she usually got the other children into some form of trouble.

“I’m home now so we won’t be needing your help.” The curt response had your gaze burning a hole in the side of John’s head. So he followed it up with something kind so he wouldn’t have to hear how unfriendly he was from you later.

“But why don’t you and your wife stop by for drinks and food some time. Y/N here’s an excellent cook and I bet our kids would get along.” John sensed how you softened significantly at this kind gesture.

“Oh I know! Y/N had us over for dinner a few nights ago.” Tim gave you an approving look which John didn’t appreciate.

Now John was jealous wondering what you cooked for Tim. Did he sit in John’s seat at the table? Help you wash up after dinner like John always did? Maybe you played your music and danced around like you normally did while packing up leftovers.

You knew Tim was non the wiser but you could feel the tension radiating off John. He appeared perfectly normal, stoic, but normal.

“I’m a single dad though, so it’ll just be me and Ian stopping by.” With a charming smile Tim grabbed his toolbox ready to head out.

That was another red flag to John. A single dad sniffing around was most likely because he had become smitten with you. It wouldn’t have been the first time a single dad came after you with romantic intentions.

“Thank you so much Tim. Seriously stop by for that drink, the kids can play.” You smiled kindly and patted his broad shoulder, a way too friendly gesture in your husband’s eyes.

“Tonight?” Tim asked.

“Yeah! We’ll be grilling so bring your appetites.” You both shared friendly smiles.

Tim grabbed one of the muffins off the plate you had set out. He nodded with a grin as a way to thank you and made his way to the back door. John wanted to snatch the muffin back. Those were for him not this random person.

“I’ll shoot you a text before we head over.” Opening the back door Tim saw himself out.

As soon as the door shut John was picking a fight.

“Oh so you two text?” John was snarky as he asked.

There was a beat of silence as you both stared at each other.

“Is this really how you want to be right when you get home? We can fight if you want. Or you can drop the ‘She’s Mine’ act and fuck me upstairs.” You decided flirting with John would be the better move.

Not only would it show your desire for only John but he was worked up right now so you knew it would be rough possessive sex. He’d probably have you chanting who you belonged to by the end of it all.

There was another beat of silence.

“Well, get a move on we don’t have all day.” John motioned with his hand toward the stairs and smacked your ass.

You grinned wildly, turning and scurrying up to your room. You could feel John hot on your feels as he chased you up the stairs. To him this was a much better option than arguing first thing being home.

——————

“So he just invited himself over?” John asked with a mouthful.

You two were back in your kitchen after some much needed quality time together. Your skin still felt hot and your ass ached from the numerous smacks John’s calloused hands laid against it. That and how you expected to have bruises in the shape of his hipbones on the fatty flesh.

John was sat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He was on his second blueberry muffin and watching you as you made the pair of you lunch. As annoyed as he was about this man Tim, John was a little too distracted to care. After he got his frustration out upstairs, which you seemed to throughly enjoy, his eyes had been glued to you. John may have just gotten off but he had half a mind to drag you back upstairs. Those athletic shorts you were now wearing and his white t-shirt had him wanting you beneath him all over again.

“Not really. Him and Ian were exploring the woods and accidentally came into the yard. The kids were already playing while I weeded the garden and Evie asked if Ian wanted to play too. So Tim hung around for a bit and I invited them for dinner because he’s a really nice guy.” You explained the encounter from a few days prior.

Tim and Ian had accidently wandered into your yard as they explored the forest behind both your homes. Evelyn hollered for the boy her age to come help her and Jj lift up the tire John used to work out with. John had brought that monstrosity home from work one day claiming it was going to be a better workout than your at home gym in the basement could provide. When he was home you loved the ugly thing because you got to sit on the back patio and watch John flip it back and forth through the yard shirtless. When he was away the kids played on it and tried to flip it themselves. They still hadn’t been able to do it but were determined.

The large tire that weighed at least 300 pounds had become the topic of conversation between you and Tim. He had asked why you had it and once you explained your husband’s reasoning he agreed with John it was a better workout than lifting weights. Tim ended up being extremely nice and friendly and you wanted him to feel welcomed in the neighborhood. Some of the other parents could be snobs in your opinion and you liked making sure whenever anyone new moved in you welcomed them warmly. It didn’t mean you had to be friends but it was nice for others to know there was a friendly face in case they needed anything.

“Nice guy? You two friends?” It was obvious John wasn’t pleased by the turn of events in his absence but you could only roll your eyes.

“Not yet. His son is between Evie and Jj age and they get along great, so I suggest you quit it with not liking him all because he fixed our sink.” You sighed out in frustration and busied yourself with cooking before you started a fight with John.

“He assumed I was my brother. Any reason for that?” John asked a little too sharply.

“Yeah, he probably assumed you were nice and not some rude jerk.” You quipped.

You had John there so he chose not to respond.

“Here.” You placed John’s plate in front of him with a little too much force.

“Darling, I don’t like coming home to another man in my house, fixing my sink.” John tried to reason with you as if his foul mood was excusable.

“What was I suppose to do? Let the sink leak water all over the place? Don’t think you’d appreciate coming home to a flooded kitchen.” You threw your hands up now officially annoyed.

“You really going to be like this right when I get home? Or do you want to fuck me upstairs instead?” John used your own tactic against you, only he gave you a charming wink.

You both stared at each other for a moment.

“C’mon, we should be quick so the food doesn’t get cold.” You waved John toward the stairs as you exited to make your way back to your bedroom. Now it was your turn to take out your frustration.

——————

“Sooner or later we have to finish that conversation.” John was lying on his back, bare chest heaving as he caught his breath.

You were sprawled out next to him in a daze. Legs thrown over his and a sticky mess waiting to be cleaned on your stomach. The room felt stifling hot, the open windows allowing a refreshing summer breeze to cool you both off.

“What?” You asked having barely heard John.

You were still completely blissed out from having had your way with your bear of a man. Well, it was more him having his way with you only you told him exactly how you wanted him to take you. From the pace to position, John let you call the shots this round so you could get your own frustration out like you had so kindly done for him.

“Never mind. Do we need to go to the shop since we’re apparently grilling tonight?” John asked as he started to get out of bed, leaving you with a sweet kiss to your lips. Staying completely naked John walked to the bathroom and came back a moment later with a damp wash cloth.

“Yeah, was thinking we could do steaks and I’ll make whatever else you’re craving.” You were still catching your breath while you watched John clean you up. The warm cloth was rough against the skin of your stomach and inner thighs but you appreciated being taken care of.

“Mash and chips.” John grinned at the thought of getting double starch with a nice juicy steak.

“I can do that. But it’s Saturday so I’m also going to make spaghetti or Lily is going to lose her shit.” Finally starting to not feel so dazed you got up out of bed and started to get dressed along side your burly husband; who had a few hickies littering his torso.

“She’s still obsessed with spaghetti and meatballs? Was hoping she’d be over it by now.” John asked in disbelief.

Your whole family loved to eat there was no doubt about that. You and John were lucky Jj and Evelyn were never really picky eaters. They had some foods they didn’t like but they never truly gave you a hard time. Lily on the other hand would get fixated on specific foods for periods of time. John was hoping the spaghetti and meatball phase was over because he was absolutely sick of the dish.

You were sweet enough that every Saturday you let the family take turns picking Saturday’s dinner. Today was Lily’s turn to pick. All the other days were up to you or you had leftovers. For the last nine weeks in a row Lily had picked spaghetti and meatballs and everyone in the house was sick of it. Last time she did this was with rice pilaf and chicken so you made a large batch of it to give her at dinner each night. Only she decided that same day she hated rice pilaf so you and John had to eat it everyday for lunch so it wouldn’t go to waist.

“I’m starting to think there’s no end in sight.” You lightly complained.

“We can say no.” John tried to persuade you on this again.

“No we can’t. The deal is they can pick whatever as long as I can cook it in under an hour.” With a sigh you shimmied your jeans over your hips.

“Saying no isn’t going to kill them. You know that right?” John was now buckling his belt then reaching for his shirt on the floor.

“You know I was a kid who always heard no. You were the same. I don’t like doing that to the kids unless it’s truly an inconvenience.” John couldn’t deny how sweet you were to your kids.

“You keep spoiling them and they’ll turn rotten. Now let’s get going, they’re going to get dropped off in a couple of hours.” John tossed you your bra and then put on his socks.

“They’re already rotten to the core and I love it.” You joked with a cheeky smirk.

Your kids were far from rotten and you both knew it. You had the sweetest children who were all a bit misunderstood in their own ways which was what made them each so endearing.

The both of you finished getting dressed and then headed downstairs. You ate your cold lunch rather quickly and then climbed into John’s truck. Instead of actually talking about what you and John had been trying not to fight about you two ignored the conflict. Instead you chatted about how the kids had been, your work, John’s deployment, and your favorite, the holiday you two were planning.

This continued at the grocery store where you picked up everything you needed for dinner and the rest of the week. John then spent the ride home going on a tangent about grocery prices. Telling you how much cheaper things were a few years ago.

“Did we really need all this?” John grumbled as you two unpacked.

“Don’t start.” Chuckling you swatted John’s ass which had the sour mood washing off of him.

The two of you continued with your tasks. You prepped everything for dinner while John seasoned the steaks then checked over the sink. You had to step over him as you cooked and he laid on his back under the kitchen sink. John continuously made snarky comments about the ‘poor work’ Tim did. Claiming Tim had to be a ‘shit handyman’ because your sink was still leaking slightly. You weren’t sure if John was telling the truth or simply banging his tools around for show.

Soon enough you both heard screams of laughter as your children ran up the driveway. They had spent the day with their cousins and had just been dropped off. It was common your kids were dropped off at the end of the driveway unless it was your dad dropping them off. He always stopped in to say hello.

“DADDY!” Evelyn busted through the back door and ran full speed at John.

She ran into him with so much force John had to take a step back. Jj was not far behind as he too hugged John around the middle. Lily stood in the doorway looking all cute and bashful.

“Missed you two.” Bending down John took each one under an arm and picked them up so they were now upside down.

Jj was laughing so hard he was snorting while Evelyn was screeching with laughter like crazy.

“Spin! Spin!” Your two oldest hollered and John did just that.

You watched your husband swing Evelyn and Jj around, a chorus of laughter filling your home once again. You had happy kids there was no doubting that. The soundtrack of this house was giggles and joyous screams. But nothing compared to the laughter your husband brought each one of your children. It was absent while he was away and he brought a warmth into your home that was undeniable.

Once Jj and Evelyn were dizzy John flipped them back over and placed them on their feet. Jj stumbled to the ground laughing so hard he was barely making noise. Evelyn was wobbling around trying to find her balance while giggling. Stepping over Jj, John stuck out his arms for soft and sweet Lily who hated rough housing. Gently John took the four year old into his arms so they were nose to nose.

“Missed you peanut.” John spoke softly watching as the bashful look Lily wore turned into a giant smile that rivaled yours.

“Hi, daddy.” Lily whispered before wrapping her arms around John’s neck.

“Your mums making spaghetti for you.” Lily kicked her feet hearing John talk.

“Wait!” Lily pulled her head away from Johns shoulder.

You were just pouring the box of pasta into the boiling water. Lily had her hand stuck out having you halt your action of stirring the water.

“I want dippy eggs.” Lily informed you.

You and John both stared at her straight faced. The pair of you weren’t sure if you were happy she finally picked a new food or frustrated she waited until now to tell you.

“I already started the spaghetti.” Trying to reason with Lily she shook her head adamantly ‘no.’

“Mummy you never asked what I wanted. And I want dippy eggs.” Crossing her arms Lily pouted at you with a mean look.

“I- well yeah. I guess I assumed you wanted spaghetti.” Looking at the sauce you had on the stove with the meatballs cooking in it and then back to the pasta cooking you sighed. This is what you got for assuming and not asking Lily this morning.

“Well, we have lunch for the week, John.” You stirred the pot while John looked up to the ceiling with a sigh. He was truly starting to hate spaghetti and meatballs.

“Don’t be cross with me!” Lily shrieked in John’s face.

“We’re not.” Trying to comfort the sniffling four year old John and you shared an amused look at the dramatics.

“Okay you two go play outside. Ian and his dad are coming over soon for dinner.” You motioned for your two oldest to get a move on.

“Woohoo!” Evelyn threw her arms in the air, stumbling slightly from being dizzy.

“Ian’s so much fun.” Jj was finally catching his breath and then sprinting out the back door with Evelyn behind him.

“Lily c’mon! Help us flip the tire!” Jj called for his youngest sister who was quickly pushing herself out of John’s arms.

“They wanna play with me, I gotta go daddy.” Lily said seriously when John wouldn’t let her go.

“You don’t wanna spend time with me?” It sounded like John was teasing but you knew he wanted more attention from his children than this quick hello.

“Daddy.” Lily wriggled until John let her go. She walked towards the back door then stopped and looked at John with the utmost seriousness.

“Jj and Evie only play with me sometimes. I have to go. Cuddles later.” Turning around Lily hoped off the stair on to the patio and cautiously jogged toward her siblings who were in the middle of the yard.

“She’s so fucking cute I could die.” You squealed.

“Couldn’t agree more.” John’s smile was soft as he watched his children get along so well.

“Dippy eggs for dinner. . . She’ll be starving by bed time.” John told you with a chuckle.

“She’ll eat four eggs and three pieces of toast.” You were now pulling out the ingredients needed for your daughters newest dinner choice. You noticed you only had two eggs left from having baked this morning.

“Four eggs!?” John was astounded by Lily’s large appetite. He ate four eggs in the morning, it was crazy to him his child could eat that much.

“Yep! Would you go grab more from the coop we’re already running low.” Taking out another pot you got to cooking.

“We’re about to go through so many eggs. Hope the gals can keep up.” John sighed as he grabbed his work gloves, slid on his boots, grabbed the basket normally used for this task, and went to go get more eggs.

Walking over to the chicken coop John stopped to see his children trying to flip the 300 pound tire. They were strategizing how they could do it. John flipped it a couple times and his three children hollered in excitement which was a huge boost to Johns ego. Soon enough you were yelling from the back door for him to stop goofing around and go grab those eggs.

Part of you felt bad for disturbing the fun. But you knew if dinner wasn’t on time for Lily she would have a meltdown. She could be exactly like John when hungry and that meant she was an absolute monster. Thankfully, John was an adult so he didn’t freak out but he was horrible to be around when particularly hungry. It had you wondering if that’s why he had the reputation of being as asshole at work. Maybe he was just always hungry while deployed and he took it out on everyone around him.

John made his way to the coop he had built over a decade ago. It needed some work from how weathered it had become. It was a small wooden structure painted a garnet red to match your home. The slatted roof had moss growing atop it hiding the numerous patch jobs John had done. It was about the size of a small shed with a door for John to enter on the right side and a small hatch in the front with a ramp for the hens to get out from.

There was a fence around the coop that came up to John’s ribcage. The fence was a two rail estate fence with wood so old it had turned grey. Moss stuck to the wood and grew around the chicken wiring used to wrap around the posts and keep the hens inside.

“Hey there Nancy.” John said in a chipper voice that most would find strange with his gravely voice and rugged demeanor.

He was currently squatted down in the small coop ready to go through the nesting boxes. John had thrown feed out for the hens and the other four had gone to eat but Nancy had stayed back; firmly sat atop her nest in the back corner. Nancy and John had a love hate relationship. She was a pain in his ass but he respected her ferocity.

Nancy was a syrupy brown hen with ivory tail feathers and a cherry red comb. She was ‘pretty’ as John liked to say. Her eyes were dark and looked like daggers when anyone but you came near.

John started by first clearing out the unoccupied nest boxes. Slowly he made his way over to Nancy who hadn’t stopped staring at him the entire time he was there. John maintained eye contact as he slowly made his way over. One second to the next he was in a staring contest and then the he was being charged at. Nancy took off from her nest ready to fight and feathers flying. Swiftly John moved past her and grabbed the two eggs she was protecting. In quick succession his hands were violently pecked and then he was taking off out of the chicken coop.

Running out of the small structure Nancy was right behind clucking loudly. In his haste John saw out of the corner of his eye a small crowd had formed a few yards away from the chicken coop. Dodging the other hens who were enjoying their snack they squawked in surprise as John dashed by. A few feathers flew in the air as John hurtled over the wired fence with the basket of eggs cradled under his arm.

“Wicked!” A young boys voice boomed through the open air.

“See! I told you my dad’s cool!” Evelyn’s voice quickly followed.

Looking back at the pen John could see Nancy eyeing him, her little head bobbing to look at him from different angles. After a quick check of the basket John saw all the eggs were in tact and now he could bring them back to you. He would have to be doing this twice a day now instead of the once with Lily’s new request for dippy eggs. Hell, maybe he’d have to buy another chicken.

“Dad, this is Ian.” Jj motioned with his head.

Jj was hoping into the chicken pen to throw some more feed since it was his turn to tend to them. When John was home the chickens were his responsibility. But when deployed Jj and Evelyn did mostly everything besides collect the eggs. John didn’t understand why but Nancy never attacked you so you were the one to gather the eggs each evening in his absence. You liked to say it was because of the respect between mothers which always had John chuckling.

John realized Lily wasn’t with the group of 10-12 year olds. Taking in the yard John saw his youngest daughter sitting on the tire on the opposite side of the yard. Her head was hung low and she was kicking her feet making them bounce slight against the rubber.

“Can I feed them!?” Ian was about to climb over the fence but Evelyn was quick to grab his shirt tail.

“Sorry Ian, but I don’t want Nancy to go after you.” John gave the boy a kind smile.

Ian was tall for his age and looked like an athletic little boy. He had cropped blonde hair that accentuated his heart shaped face and green eyes. There was a scab on his chin and more on both knees. For such a rough and tumble looking kid he had a natural gentleness about him that John couldn’t quite place.

“How’d you do that?” John pointed to the young boys chin.

A huge smile spread across the little boys face showing off how his canine tooth had fallen out.

“Evie and I were playing chicken on our bikes and we ran into each other so hard I fell off!” The story was shared with a bright laugh that infected both of John’s children.

John looked over to Evie who had matching skinned knees. But that was nothing new. Evelyn was a tough little girl and tended to have scraped elbows and knees, dirty feet from running around outside, and some new stain for you to get out of her clothes.

“And your dad wasn’t upset?” John followed up.

Some of the parents in the neighborhood weren’t Evelyn’s biggest fans. She tended to get into trouble by climbing up something, standing on her handle bars while she rode her bike, or playing in the dirt and getting all muddy. John knew other parents thought she was a bad influence but he saw his little girl as one who just wanted to have fun. She was a child and she acted like it so John didn’t see any harm. Jj was the same way besides the climbing and he was never classified as trouble. It was an unfortunate caveat of being a girl so John tried to teach her to be safe and have some common sense but never dimmed her flame.

“You kidding!? Dad thinks Evie’s brilliant!” Ian’s response had John chuckling with appreciation. It was nice to hear his daughter’s qualities were admired.

“SHIT!” Jj ran for the fence right behind John and frantically climbed over it. Falling to the ground face first John cringed watching how the 12 year olds body twisted awkwardly as Jj fell hard.

“Why’s Nancy such a jerk?” Dusting himself off Jj was getting back to his feet seemingly unphased by the fall.

Jj now had dirt smeared across his right cheek and his hair was a mess. Nancy was clucking loudly trying to square up to the young boy through the fence. Turning around Jj rolled his eyes and walked back over to John.

“She’s territorial. You wouldn’t want someone rooting around your home.” Maybe John and Nancy had something in common. John’s words seemed to bring some perspective to the children because they all immediately burst into conversation about the chickens.

Ruffling Jj’s hair and telling them not to get into trouble John made his way over to Lily to check on her. As he got closer John could hear tiny sniffles and watched as Lily wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. Lily was turned looking into the forest so she didn’t see John coming up behind her.

“You okay peanut?” John’s voice seemed to startle the four year old who slightly jumped.

“I’m fine daddy.” Wiping her eyes quickly Lily tried to pretend like she hadn’t been crying.

“What’s the matter?” John squatted in front of his little girl who looked so much like him. Taking his gloves off John cupped Lily’s round cheeks in his palms and wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

“I wanted to play pretend but Jj said that’s a baby game. So I asked Evie if she’d play with me but she just laughed at me and called me a baby.” The sniffling picked up again as Lily’s lip wobbled.

“Do you want to come spend time with me and your mum?” John’s question had Lily shaking her head in confirmation, and then she was crying and reaching for him.

With a melancholy smile John scooped up his little girl who wrapped herself around him. Rubbing her back soothingly John told her all about how his big brothers could be ‘big meanies’ when he was little like her. John had captivated her when he admitted to crying like she did when they wouldn’t play with him. How he would beg for them to play with him and how they picked on him. By the time John had made it back to the house Lily was giggling and running in front of him with her mood completely turned around.

Before he entered the house John could see you and Tim chatting in the kitchen through the large window. It annoyed John at times at how friendly you could be. It wasn’t a bad quality but sometimes he wanted you to keep to yourself so he didn’t have to be around people. But his grievances never stopped you from becoming acquainted with the entire neighborhood. Claiming you wanted to know who your kids were hanging around and their parents just in case.

“Did you ask the others if they wanted dippy eggs?” You asked seeing John with the basket of eggs.

“Ian can have dippy eggs but the other two can’t.” John ruffled Lily’s hair watching as him sticking up for her had her smile lighting up the entire house.

“What’d they do?” You asked with a chuckle.

“They’re big meanies like daddy’s big brothers were.” Lily explained as if everyone would know what she was talking about.

“They’re excluding her again. Calling her a ‘b-a-b-y’” John spoke more hushed so Lily wouldn’t hear and took the extra measure to spell out baby so she wouldn’t get sad again.

“We gotta do something about that.” You said back.

Jj and Evie weren’t bad kids and they certainly didn’t dislike their sister. The age gap got in the way a lot of the time and Lily was constantly searching for a playmate in her older siblings. They entertained her more than you thought they originally would but being six years younger than Evelyn and eight years younger than Jj made it hard for Lily to keep up. That and she didn’t like getting dirty or rough housing like her siblings. The parameters Lily needed to play and the age gap frustrated Jj and Evelyn and you saw it caused them to be snarky to their sensitive little sister.

“Your brothers exclude you a lot?” Tim asked trying to have a conversation with John since the last one didn’t go too well.

“No.” John spoke curtly.

“Yes they did.” You and Lily corrected John at the same time.

“You just said, you just said, Uncle Harrison use to make you cry cuz he’d tell you to meet him outside to play then he’d lock you out of the house.” Lily had her finger pointed at John and mouth hung agape at his lying.

“And Uncle Grayson made you cry so hard you wet yo-“ Before Lily could finish John gently clamped his hand over her mouth. Her sapphire eyes went wide now being nose to nose with her father.

“I think that’s enough sharing. How about we don’t tell people those things.” John was thoroughly embarrassed that what he just shared with Lily outside to cheer her up was now being broadcasted. Kissing her forehead John took his hand back and motioned for her to run along.

“Big military guy like you wet his pants from crying.” Tim couldn’t help but laugh at the story your daughter chose to share.

You were mortified for John. That was not something he normally shared or you thought he’d ever admit to. You admired he told your daughter this to cheer her up, but now it was backfiring in his face.

“He was a little kid.” You gave Tim a sharp look for laughing but that didn’t seem to deter him.

“Trust me I’ve done worse.” Tim was still chuckling.

John didn’t respond. He simply grabbed a crystal glass from the cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey. The eggs he had put on the counter were soon washed and put to use. You and Tim continued to chat about your kids. John found out that Tim’s wife had passed away a few years ago leaving him a single dad with no intention on dating. This put John’s mind at ease that he wasn’t hanging around for your attention. Tim went as far to say that he felt blessed Ian was the exactly like his mother in looks and spirit.

You were a magician at getting people to open up. John could never wrap his head around how you did it so flawlessly. It was probably because you genuinely cared. If John were honest he used some of your tactics at work when doing interrogations. And if they didn’t work he was fine resorting to violence but he wouldn’t admit either of these things to you.

Learning that Tim had lost his wife had John lightening up quite a bit. It had him wondering what he would be like if he ever lost you. Tim mentioned how he felt like a bumbling fool since the day he lost her. That making friends and keeping Ian involved with his peers was a lot harder than he realized. His wife had been so good at doing the social aspect of parenting it never occurred to Tim what a skill it was.

“Dad! You gotta come lift the tire for us.” Ian was at your back door bouncing up and down.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.” Tim was playful as he followed after his son.

This left you and John alone in the kitchen since Lily had pulled out her dolls in the living room.

“I don’t like him.” John all but blurted out when there was privacy.

“Jesus, John. Is this still about the sink?” Turning a little too quickly you knocked over your wine glass causing it to spill across the kitchen island. You let out a frustrated groan as you went to clean up the mess.

“You inviting him over cuz he’s good looking?” Instead of beating around the bush John got straight to the point. He handed you a few paper towels that you snatched from him in frustration.

“What?” You could only blink at John utterly perplexed and taken aback by the question.

“Look, I get that I’m gone too often. And it might be nice to have someone handsome fixing the house up in my absence. I just want you to be honest about it.” John did his best to not show his annoyance at what he was suspicious of.

“I mean Tim’s good looking I can’t lie about that. But am I having him over to gawk at? Absolutely not. I just needed the sink fixed.” Exasperated, that’s the only way you were able to describe what you felt. You had to take a step away and wipe up the spill because now you were offended on top of annoyed.

“So having him take my place at dinner, baking for him, and fixing things wasn’t you getting the attention I wasn’t able to give you?” John asked now starting to feel a bit apprehensive at his approach. He could see by your posture that you were tense from how angry you were getting.

“Okay, first off, I bake for everyone. You know that. It’s the whole reason we got chickens in the first place.” You waved your hands in the general direction of the chicken coop.

“Second, I’ve got plenty of home movies you’ve starred in to keep myself occupied if I need something to look at. I don’t need some stranger over for dinner or fixing the house so I can have more attention.” You placed your hands on your hips and stared at John who matched your unwavering gaze.

“Daddy’s in a movie?” Lily’s voice joined the conversation.

“Oi, stop eaves dropping.” John shooed Lily out of the room and she quickly scurried back to the living room.

“I just don’t see why you’re being so friendly if you haven’t got a bit of a crush.” Turning back around John regretted the question because of the look on your face. You felt insulted and John could see that by your slightly open mouth and furrowed brows.

“Crush? Did you ever think that maybe I just want to be friends with him because he’s nice? That he’ll be able to help me if the house falls apart while you’re gone. You know I paid him for his help, it’s not like he was here because I batted my eyes and asked all sweetly.” You said waving your hands around all animated.

“That’s the only reason?” John pushed knowing you too well. He knew there was something more but couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“Okay fine, maybe I can relate to his son because I lost my mum when I was around the same age? Tim asked for some advice and it felt good helping out because I know what it’s like.” You hissed, not wanting to talk about this. It was a sensitive topic to you and not one you felt like hashing out right now.

There it was, the real reason John had been searching for.

“Oh.” John stared at you, who was now fuming mad. It hadn’t occurred to him he was being insensitive but how would he know without you telling him.

“Yeah. ‘Oh.’” Rolling your eyes you tried to busy yourself at the kitchen sink.

“Don’t be cross with me. If I knew that was the reason I wouldn’t have been so harsh.” John’s hardened expression softened greatly. His eyes were locked on you lovingly now having a much gentler side of him coming out.

“Hard to when you think so poorly of me.” You had turned your back to John and busied yourself with invisible dishes. It was one plate that you kept washing over and over.

“I could never think poorly of you.” John had manifested behind you and whispered into your ear.

“Yeah? You think I’d have some guy over to gawk at and have lewd intentions for.” You grumbled, scrubbing away.

John slowly reached around you, his chest lightly pressing against your back. Turning off the faucet his rough fingers slipped the plate from your hands and placed it back into the sink. John’s warmth was radiating off of him as his strong arms wrapped around you and hugged you to his burly chest. Burying his face in the crook of your neck he lightly nuzzled his beard against the exposed skin and left feather light kisses in his wake. Each one was placed with love while his thumb gently ran across your wrist.

“I’m being an ass aren’t I? Get worked up because of how pretty you are.” John’s gravely voice was hot against your ear.

“I know other men see it too.” John’s sultry words had your breath hitching. His body was pressing against you a bit more and strong arms holding you firmly.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, I forget how kind you are. I get so use to the cruelty of work and think that you could be that way when it’s so far from the truth.” John laid open mouth kiss after kiss up and down your neck. It made your hair stand on end. Your shoulders relaxed and you melted into his hold.

“You are being an ass.” You playfully teased. Breathy words and the tiniest moan leaving your parted lips. You had your head tilted back and resting on John’s shoulder as he continued to kiss your neck.

“I’ll play nice. After how you bounced in my lap earlier I know I’m the only one for you.” John purred in your ear sending a shock wave through your body that had your thighs pressing together.

John was right that he was the only one for you. And after babbling like a slag in his lap about how much you missed every part of him, John knew you were just as addicted to him as he was to you. His jealousy was misplaced and he was ready to apologize in every way you craved. It seemed each others bodies were the answer to all your problems today.

“If you ever accuse me of having eyes for someone else I’ll stop putting out.” You threatened John. You didn’t mean it, you knew he was the most insecure when just getting home from deployment.

It was a sad flaw that he thought you would get lonely in his absence and would seek companionship outside of your marriage. He knew it wasn’t true, that you would never do that to him. But that didn’t stop the insecurity getting out of hand sometimes; like it had today.

“Now, now, Darling. We can’t have that.” John’s flirting was driving you mad. You wanted to drag him upstairs and make him apologize for being a jerk in the most sinful ways.

“Ew! Do you two have to be so gross?” Jj voice came from the back door.

All the young boy could see was his father hugging you from behind. It looked completely innocent from his angle but Jj still hated it. Both him and Evelyn gave you and John trouble whenever you two were a little too affectionate in front of them. Whether that be a sweet kiss as you said goodbye or were slow dancing in the kitchen and they walked in.

“Ian’s dad can’t flip the tire and says it’s not possible. You gotta show him how it’s done dad.” Jj motioned with his thumb over his shoulder for John to come outside.

You and John shared a playful look.

“See, no way I could find that guy attractive. He can’t even flip that god awful tire.” You flirted with your husband, feeling his ego grow so large it was taking up most of the room.

“Speaking of. You should workout tomorrow with that thing. Shirtless.” You purred as John chuckled from deep in his chest.

“Treating me like a piece of meat. . . I love it.” And with that said, John kissed you on the cheek and peeled himself off of you to go show off just how strong he was.

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

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[moonastro]

boda persona chart

sun in the houses

what is a boda persona chart? so this chart is all about how your wedding will be like with your future spouse. the word 'boda' means wedding in Spanish hence why it is used for interpreting ones wedding. this asteroid can be accumulated by using the code '1487'.

the sun in the house of this chart will tell us the main centre of the wedding. it will tell us how the ceremony will go as the sun is all about the spotlight and being in the centre of attention and being in the public eye.

🌼if you would like an in depth reading check this out🌼

sun in the 1st house: so the wedding may be rushed in a way. like the ceremony of the actual wedding where they to their vows and all of that can be very short and sweet. this wedding may also have been rushed planned as well. some inconvenience or an event or some type of occurrence may have led the wedding to occur. depending on the sign this could mean multiple of things especially if there are planets involved. if in taurus, wedding may have been pushed by a family member meaning that either the parents of the couple have persuaded the wedding to occur especially if mercury is involved in the house. the wedding could have only had a small circle, very personal group of people in the wedding. this wedding can cause arguments during or after the ceremony. whether its from the couple or the guests. there also may not be any honeymoon as there simply was no time to plan for it.

sun in the 2nd house: wedding can be very personal but luxurious. may only have immediate family members invited to the wedding but the décor and venue and everything that was planned could be well spent on. the parents of the bride and groom may have spent the money on the wedding or have invested a lot of money for it. usually the wedding can be a very comfortable and safe place for the couple. the ceremony can be slow and sensual and especially very meaningful and special for the couple. during the ceremony there may be personal vows exchanged that both have hand written themselves to make it more meaningful and personal for one another. the wedding can have good and tasty food and people may eat a lot at the wedding. the meals may be homecooked or very comforting.

sun in the 3rd house: main attraction in the wedding will cause a lot of banter and gossip. there will be a lot of media access, lots of filming and camera attraction. social media can be a big part of the ceremony whether its other people filming or taking pictures and posting them or its from your own weddings professional photographer. this wedding can be very practical but the people may not know what's going on because there might be things that change all the time and there can be plans that change during the wedding. the ceremony itself could also be over very quickly and the guests can be left confused by the erratic and rushed event. even though it can be perfect for you and your spouse.

sun in the 4th house: wedding can be an emotional wreck (in a good way). lots of tears and lots of emotions can be testified during the ceremony. lots of affection being made during the wedding between the couple. the couple can be very affectionate and not afraid to show the love that they have for each other during the wedding. perhaps there will be a lot of hugging, kissing, flirtatious stares shared and so forth. the wedding could be near water and in a location where it is either overseas, near a beach, near a lake, river, ocean, fountain etc. wedding ceremony can have only close people there, people that bot of you and your spouse feel comfortable being around with.

sun in the 5th house: this wedding can be a very light hearted and very fun event. lots of drinking, eating, playing and goofing around with each other as a couple and also people around you. lots of music can take place in the wedding, like there can be a professional singer invited to the wedding, a famous DJ perhaps or even professional performers hired to the wedding. this wedding can cause attention from how lively and how fun the ceremony could be. there can be a no child policy involved if saturn is conjunct the asteroid. also the wedding can include lots of fun activities and even games for everyone, but the games can also be used to put the attention onto the bride and groom. the games can be made for the guests also to make the event more fun.

sun in the 6th house: this wedding can have a very earthy and classic theme to it. the wedding can have exceptional food, made professionally and can even be very healthy, like vegan and stuff. every detail of the wedding can have a purpose and could have a meaning. every single detail from the outfits to the food to the decorations can be important and mindfully prepared. another thing about the ceremony is that there can be a clean and classic vibe in the wedding, very modern and very basic. can use a lot of natural tones and colours and can include very simple yet elegant techniques in the ceremony. the main attraction point in the ceremony can definitely be the classic and modern décor in the wedding, the décor can be very clean looking. oh and also the wedding may not be overdone and can look very clean and neat.

sun in the 7th house: the wedding can have a very beauty based theme and by that i mean that everything in the event and ceremony can be picked out to match harmoniously, like the dresses of the bridesmaids and the braid may match correspondently. a lot of detail can be used for the wedding and the bride and groom could have been very involved in assembling everything in the ceremony. a lot of enemies of the bride and groom can be invited unintentionally, may invite people out of respect or equality and to not seem rude and disrespectful. there can also be a dress code involved according to the bride and grooms intentions so for example can be no short dresses, no colour black and so forth. there can be a theme to the wedding like a magical theme like forest, tides etc. the main attraction in the wedding has to be the art of it all, the clothes of the bride and the suit of the groom it can be very beautiful, there can be art used so there can be a professional live painter hired for the wedding to paint the scenery of the couple.

sun in the 8th house: the main theme of this wedding can be very emotional and very spiritual. lots of crying, breakdowns, deep emotions, and sensual felt during the wedding. this wedding can be secretive and discreet. even their own parents may not know about it. this wedding can be planned and talked about for a long time but no one else may know about it apart from the couple. this wedding can bring a lot of money especially from guests and family. this wedding can open doors to a very big inheritance that will allow a very large sum of money to go to you and your spouse or to yourself. main attraction can be of how secretive and intimate the wedding can be. actually there might be no attention struck at all since no one may know about it.

sun in the 9th house: this wedding could be very grand. either it has a very big set, so venue and everything can be big and spacious or it may mean that the ceremony would be in a different location such as abroad or in a different country. the wedding itself could take place in a completely different land or you would need to travel to get there. this wedding could be a very spiritual and ceremonial wedding meaning that it may also take place in a church, or any other place of worship. this wedding can be paid by your parents in law and they can help arrange it as well. with this placement if Saturn is involved and conjunct this can mean that it can become a less grand wedding and can be with only you and your spouse and the witnesses. this makes it more intimate with only you and your spouse involved in this special event. also to mention with mercury involved this could cause a spontaneous wedding meaning that it can happen out of nowhere and quickly.

sun in the 10th house: wedding can be public-very public. lots of guests, lots of people may be invited, a lot of people may be talking about the wedding etc. the wedding can be very expensive and catch the eyes of people invited to it. the wedding can have lots of traditional themes to it, so depending on the culture you are from, this can be used in your wedding. for example traditional colours, wedding dress, food, patterns, ceremonial trials and so on. this can be a very big and celebratory event meaning that there can be a lot of people, a lot of food, a lot of everything. this ceremony can last a very long time, like there could be celebrations that occur days after the wedding with guests on guests being invited.

sun in the 11th house: the whole event of the wedding can be press checked meaning that lots of media influence can be used in this wedding. perhaps you as a couple invited professional media reporters, photographers, film producers etc. you may even hire a media manager to take care of your social media wedding posts and so forth. the crowd of the wedding can be MASSIVE like big big. this wedding can literally be the size of a stadium not even joking. especially if jupiter is involved (can be less if saturn is conjunct). once again there can be a lot of friends that are invited to the event, lots of known people also like celebrities and popular influencers, lots of work colleagues as well. the main attraction of the wedding can definitely be because of the size of it, like it can blow some people out because of the amazement. there can be new tech that is used in the wedding such as big screens that record the couple making the vows so the big crowd can see them etc. lots of technology used also.

sun in the 12th house: wedding can happen overseas, or its very likely that spouse is a foreigner so the wedding can take place in their home land. the weddings main attraction can be that it can be full of glamourous décor and a very spiritual meaning to the wedding. the wedding can truly change the way your mind works so during the wedding your mindset could change. you may become emotional and sentimental. may even cry during the ceremony. wedding can happen near a body of water ocean and the beach. wedding can have a lot of people invited to the wedding and especially people that may be very well known by other people so in short there may be celebrities or popular guests at your wedding. the wedding can be known for its expensive yet elegant appearance. there may be lots of flowy material used, grand and light colours used.

🤍also would anybody be interested in boda persona chart paid readings?? let me know and i can add it to may offered readings.

thanks for reading and have a lovely rest of your dayyyy<333

[oddinarylani]

'i wish you'd just care about me' arranged marriage skz.

pt 1: chan, lee know, changbin, and hyunjin.

w: blood, violence in changbin's

pt 2 is ⇀ here

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴

it wasn’t the best of circumstances. no. the day you were bathed in white, promised to a man, and walked down the aisle by your father to be given to the hands of your husband was one you spent in mourning, swallowed by grief. “i bet you’re so excited, yeah?” the makeup artist asked, brushing a pearly shade of pinkish red onto your lips. she had a soft genuine smile as she asked, surfacing you into reality from the fogginess in your head. you nod, once, “yes, i am.” you lie in an attempt to make conversation easy. most of the guests that day knew of the arrangement, but other’s hadn’t a clue - which made appearances dire to keep up with. part of you was pleased to move onto a new chapter in your life if it meant moving on from life with your parents. but the other part reminded you that you were going into a new marriage completely blind to the man you’d call your husband. you met him one singular time before changing your last name, the entirety of it was spent with your parents talking to his own - glances you cast in his direction, if only to study the face of the man you hoped to love one day. 

his jaw was set coldly, eyes focused on the conversation shared between your parents. he was handsome but just stone. was anything there? you would wonder. is there a man beneath that face? the bone beneath his skin rippled in tender structure, ears pierced, nose rounded, and a heart-like shape to his mouth. while there was no longer hope to hold out for, you scrounged up a bit more in the depths of your chest in desire to love him one day. truly love him. and to be loved in return. 

two months into your marriage and you still feel the brick wall dividing you from your husband. it wasn’t exhausting all the time, no. you saw him smile; a few times actually. sometimes you think of it when going to sleep. you hadn’t heard him truly laugh, but you still maintained that same hope from the first time you ever saw him that one day you’d be the reason for him to. your new routine as husband and wife took a minute to settle into; with chan slowly rising to ranks of his family’s company and your own growth in the business of your own. your days were spent at home in your office working from home, a lot of calls into business meetings that you kept your mic muted for, and phone calls to overseas clientele for holiday season. 

chan would wake in the morning and rise from your shared bed quick to get ready for work, leaving you to fix coffee and shrug on a robe in the cold of your home (winters weren’t kind in the mornings) when he’d leave, you’d have a cup ready for him, cream and a sugar cube. “thank you, have a good day.” he’d wish, already halfway out the door with a small tired smile on his face. “you’re welcome, you too,” you’d say, scrolling through your phone as the door would shut. 

he’d take little notice to your attempts at growing your relationship, and you hadn’t had the time to bring it up to him yet that you wanted to try to have a wonderful marriage. you’d step into the living room wearing a new dress for a banquet for the company, smile a bit wider and brighter than usual - he’d look up from the couch, phone still in hand and would give you a thin lipped smile. “you look nice.” you’d rent a movie, one he’d said he’d wanted to watch soon, and welcome him home with drinks by the couch and he’d brush it off, “ah, sorry. i have a company thing tonight. tomorrow maybe?” of course, he’d forget the next day anyway so it would all be for nothing. when he’d come home extra late and you’d be in bed, buddled in pjs in the comforter with a book and the lamp on next to you, you’d muster your best smile and set your book down. “hey, how was work?” he’d sigh, pulling the tie from his neck. “nothing new really.”

and then you’d beg yourself, beg yourself, to just answer the question of why were you in love with him? 

maybe it was for all the times you’d get to see him smile, the chuckles as you’d watch a movie, the thank you’s for cooking, and everything in between. maybe you loved him for the way he stumbled into the kitchen almost late for work, his hair a bit messy and his tie disoriented and you stopped him - “wait,” you put a hand up, walking up to him to fix his tie. it was the closest you’d ever been to him besides the day you’d gotten married, you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “sorry, my hands are cold.” your voice still laced with sleep as you straightened his tie and flattened his hair. “i-it’s okay.” he assured, clearing his throat. “eat some on your way to work, coffee’s on the counter. have a good day, okay?” you push a few pieces of toast wrapped in a napkin into his hands, pointing to his coffee before turning back to the stove. “r-right. thank you, have a good day.”

that was pretty cute. you even for a moment thought there’d be hope for you, as his cheeks flushed pink when you started working on his tie. sitting at your desk in your office you’d smile at the thought before catching yourself and smacking your own cheeks. 

but time was catching up with you, and the unbearable ache of loving him was almost too much for your heart to handle. you at least needed to know if he felt the same or if he ever could - but in the following days after your realization, you proved yourself right. there was no way. no way this could work out. a steady stream of emotion was constantly running through you; you couldn’t focus on work, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat - and you wondered if he even noticed. you were growing increasingly frustrated with chan, and every passing day of limited conversation, barely any eye contact, and virtually no response from chan was wearing you down. one second you were smitten, and the other you were pissed. 

and it eventually all came to a halt. 

the front door of your house shut loudly, louder than usual. and you had a sneaking suspicion chan hadn’t the best day at work. well. that was a shame - you were still pissed, and to think he had the audacity to come home angry from work when he could barely prove to be a communicative partner was enough to leave your blood boiling. you’d let him have it if given the chance. 

“how was work.” it wasn’t so much a question as much as a routine statement. you sat on the couch, shuffling through your movies to find the one he’d been wanting to watch, which upon realization, you didn’t know why you did that when you were pissed at him. 

“fine.” he stomps into your shared bedroom, yanking the tie from his throat as he did so. you roll your eyes and keep shuffling with a much heavier hand this time. when he re-emerges from the bedroom, he’s shed his tie but still has on his button-down and suit jacket on, you furrow your brows and sit up from the couch. 

“what’s wrong? what happened?” you ask out of the goodness of your heart. he tosses open the fridge, sighing. “nothing. nothing happened.”

“you wanna watch that movie you said you wanted to see?” he runs his hands over his face, closing the fridge door. he looks for a moment as if he’s thinking, his hands on his hips as he swallows. “no. not tonight.” he finishes, beginning to walk out of the kitchen before you stand.

“i really really wish you just cared for me.”

it was quiet, quiet, when you said it. the words left your lips before you could realize that your vision was getting a bit glossy. he freezes in his tracks, whipping his vision towards you at the sound of your voice. there wasn’t venom to your words like you expected there would be, no. just defeat. chan hears it, he hears it in you and all of his frustration, his anger, his annoyance, just melts away. instead, his chest is swallowed with guilt. 

“i try,, i try so hard to make this work, chris. i really do.” you wipe your face even though tears haven’t fallen yet, and he thinks it’s to stop them from ever doing so, at least in front of him, and his chest aches. he’s turned to face you now, just six feet away or so, and his brow softens at the sight of you. 

“i cook for you and make you coffee every morning and try renting your favorite movie because you said you wanted to watch it and wear pretty things out to work events and when i go out with friends but,, you don’t,,,” you look at him when you speak, he sees that water building in your eyes and takes a step closer to you, almost wanting to reach out but stopping himself before he’s to do so. your head shakes, you sniff one more time. 

“because that’s what married people do.” this time he does walk closer, you don’t move, but you don’t look him in the eye either - it seems much to hard to do when you’re on the brink of crying. 

“i promised myself,,” you lift a clenched fist to his chest, tapping him once with it, your lips screwing together in frustration though your voice is still soft and tearful. “that as your wife i’d love you one day.” your hand drops from his chest, you wipe your eyes when a single tear spills over your waterline, ducking your head to do so out of his line of sight. “is it too much to ask the same from my husband.”

it’s quiet for a minute, in one way he knows everything to say. every sweet word to soothe over your aching heart, because that’s what he’s suppose to do as your husband, and there’s another part of him that has no clue what to say. 

because what kind of husband is he to leave you feeling as empty as this.

“i told myself on our wedding day that,, i never wanted to be the one to make you cry.” his palms come to cup your cheeks, though his large hands end up swallowing some of your jawline and neck as well. your eyes widen a bit at the feeling, “look at me?” he asks, voice quiet. you do so with guidance from his own hands. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.” even he has some water building on his waterline, you notice. you frown, feeling his thumbs dry your under eyes. 

“i never wanted to make you feel uncared for or unheard. i appreciate everything you do for me. and i’m sorry i’ve made you question if i care for you.” he wipes his thumbs under your eyes once more before his hands lower a bit. “you’re my wife. i care about you so much. and i’ll show you that, i promise.” 

you talk for a little longer, but disregard the movie for the night, instead, you settle on curling up beside chris who wraps an arm around you, his cheeks a bit pink as you adjust yourself in his hold. he feels the burn of your own cheeks against his arm. “is this okay?” he asks, his opposite hand settling on your hip. you smile, “of course. i’m your wife, you can touch me. can i touch you?” he hums, scooting closer, giving you the okay to lay your arm across his midsection. you close your eyes for a moment, if only to enjoy the feeling of holding your husband for the first time. the warmth that always seems to naturally radiate off of him, the closeness of his breath, the feeling of being the only woman who gets to see him like this. 

“i didn’t know you were so cuddly, mr. bang.” you smile to yourself, his hand stroking soft over your hip. “only when given the chance, mrs. bang.” he replies. “ooh,, too smooth.” you admire. 

when silence encircles the both of you, and you feel sleepiness begin to creep up on you, he speaks again, “did you mean it when you said you’d learn to love me one day?” his voice is quiet, so tender - it licks at the wounds of your heart and seals them shut. your heart pounds behind your ribcage and you breathe deep to settle the rage of affection steadily brewing in you. “of course.” you reply, your face beginning to bury in his neck. 

“well, that’s a shame.” you furrow your brows, opening your eyes to look up at him. before you can reply he speaks again. “because i love you now.”

 𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴

“the summer berries on the bushels in the forest are getting ripe now, i brought you some.” you lift your basket, both hands wrapped around it’s weak woven handle, showcasing your proud supply of freshly picked goods. you set the basket down a moment later, your husband batting a quick eye to the basket before he looks back to his spread of books a second later. “mm.” is his only reply. 

lee minho was the protector and guide of the largest castle in the northern part of your land. he was a renowned alchemist and practitioner of magic, known for being aid to a handful of people in the village you were raised in, and most notably - a fierce god of night. a vampire. 

it was true the stories of bloodlust and killings that tainted centuries of vampire lore; but lee minho set out to do something different. he hadn’t a care of the human experience, which he shared with that of his ancestors, but he had no need to kill them either. animal blood tasted just as delicious as a human’s. and when befriending a human, their loyalty was like no other. so he didn’t kill them, no, he made pacts and promises, and if anything used them more like pawns but they’d die soon before he did. 

and then there was you. his wife. promised to his hand by your family - a pact of sorts, one of which you both hadn’t necessarily agreed to if it wasn’t for both of your families stepping in to further push along the marriage. in a quiet candlelight scenery you were married to your now husband, and your seal of a kiss was shared. which, honestly, you didn’t regret. he was very handsome - and kissing handsome men was always a joyous occasion (well, mostly anyway) 

he was rageful. not at you, maybe more to existence itself. he was never angry towards you, he never showed it, but you could see deep within the brown wash of his eyes that he was indeed an angry man. he had a hate you’d only seen a few times, and every time you looked a little too hard you felt yourself look away - to anywhere else in the room. afraid of what it meant, afraid of his own distaste. 

“you’re wearing the dress.” he notes. his vision still wondering over the pages in his book. your slightly fallen expression gleams a little at his comment. “yes, of course. you bought it for me.” your hands smooth over your torso, he still doesn’t look up. your lips twist at the sight of your husband’s disinterest, but you turn to wash the berries and leave the room. 

most of your marriage to minho felt like a huge disinterest on his side. he’d lived many years, this much was true. but in your short time to live, you longed for a husband who loved you; and part of you thought minho was largely incapable of this. he never showed it. he never showed anything for that matter; he was always so far away. life not only was nonexistent to him as a man, but in his very eyes. he showed not a shred of emotion, and even in your good memories with him, he showed very little. part of you blamed it on his years of living, but yet the other part of you reminded you it was all the more reason to care. every day felt like a slow drag, you weren’t really living, not really. survival maybe. but being bound to this castle with a man who rarely payed you mind left an ache worse than death. were you not to his standards? maybe that was it. 

you’d shed too many tears over the situation, now every time you cry you try to pull yourself together in the face of your grief. upon talking to your family, a few members reminded you that your voice was powerful, and you should very much share your opinions to him on the matter if your marriage was to work - but that was the thing. a few months in with the man you were to learn to love, and you felt even now it was helpless. it was a sting that brought you to your knees, god how you wanted to just tell him. tell him you loved him - and hear it from his own mouth. 

upon your ravage of feelings and your family’s request, you resorted to writing a letter to your husband. you surely wouldn’t have the guts to face this powerful man in person, not like this. so you took to beginning your note in scribbles in the isolated space of your bedroom. 

your lips twitch in thought as you think over the contents of your letter, your hand stilling still quipped with a quill. you’re swallowed with silence in the stillness of your bedroom, word after word is brought to the front of your brain. there’s a number of things you could say, but not enough words in the world to describe how you felt. 

“lee minho, i’m unhappy.” you speak aloud as you write, taking a moment to look back at your writing, quickly scribbling the line out before starting again. 

“dear husband, i have a few things to bring to your attention.” you nod along as you write, happier with this line. 

“i believe if we’re to work as husband and wife, we should talk more.”

“i try time and time again to gain your attention, to bring you happiness in a way i know how.”

“but,, it seems to never be enough.”

“if you don’t want me,” you pause, your fingers fumble with the quill in your hand as your palms begin to warm against the hardwood. your lips twitch again.

against all things in your brain reminding you a married couple should speak of their issues and this was a must in your relationship if either of you wish to continue - an overwhelming feeling of pure grief washes over you and your hand as you still to keep from writing. 

every bright moment in your relationship flashes before your eyes like matches starting a fire. it’s so overwhelming that your voice dies, and a tight tug at the back of your throat halts you to a shred of reality you hadn’t dwelled on. you sit further back in your chair, eyes glossing over into thought - lost entirely to the contents of your brain. realization has hit you like a truck in the face of your confrontation. 

because what about all of the wonderful times you’ve spent together.

what about the dancing of your wedding day, the golden burn of his watchful gaze, the presents, the meals shared, the wishes of good morning or good night? what about all of the times that kept you so closely tethered to him? what about the times that kept you in love with the man who barely spoke to you. 

you take a breath - and as quiet as it would be, it’s blaringly loud in the silence of your bedroom. 

“i want to love you. i do. and,, i think i do.” clarity has left your quill, and instead, you write from your heart. what you truly feel. 

“i hate that you don’t notice when i try to do kind things for you.”

“i want to work in matrimony of us.”

“i know our marriage is against our wishes, but i want to make it work.”

“i just.. i just wish you cared about me.”

a hand sharply grabs your chin, pulling your gaze to meet that of your husband's golden gaze. 

“not care?” he asks, his face screwed into a sort of confused expression. “not care?” he asks again as his expression contorts again, further - until his hand is tender. 

you’re so sharply pulled from your own head that you’re left with whiplash. he’s heard you? where was he? did you leave the door open? your eyes are blown wide as you face him in the realization he’s heard everything.

your mouth dries as you look at him, his gaze cuts into your very being and you feel utterly frozen. “no-! i didn’t mean it-” “you do though. i’ve made you feel this way.” his gentle grip on your chin leaves you, and he shuffles away, sitting firmly on your bed. his gaze seems lost, as if he couldn’t keep up with the words you’d admitted. 

“minho..” “i do care.” he cuts in. you swallow, your brows melding together as you do so. “i don’t… want you to feel this way. and i’m sorry for doing so.”

in the face of confrontation he seems genuinely distressed, not that any part of you doubted it - but it was comforting to hear the words leaving his mouth. 

“if we’re to be married, i want you happy. comfortable. i don’t want you to feel bad because of me.” he explains. 

“i just,, i want to work this out. i want us to talk more; tell me what makes you happy and what hurts you.” you reassure, holding onto the back of your chair as minho’s head hangs low. “i’m your wife, i want to hear all of that.” a small smile stretches across your mouth; it’s lopsided and a bit sad, but it’s there nonetheless, and the sound of your voice lets minho’s head rise as he meets your gaze once more. 

he sees in you the beauty he sees across the room even as you just sit a few feet away from him. it’s overwhelming, suffocating; and part of him hates it a little bit for suffocating his heart in one swift swallow. you’re all encompassing and human - he’s learned self-control few could achieve, and yet even a few months into a marriage he didn’t agree to and he’s smitten. he wants to reach deep inside his chest and pull his heart out by it’s tethers, and apart of him wants to feel your love to the highest degree he could if just to be surrounded in heaven once more. 

“were you lying then?” he pauses, hands wrung together. “when you said you loved me?” a small quirk in the corner of his mouth leaves your face and chest hot. 

“i wasn’t lying.”

minho’s made home on your bed, lulled to his side as his pretty eyes wash over your face. you aren’t connected, in fact, you’re a little afraid to touch him - regardless of this fact, your wrist lifts to reach nimble fingers to his face, but you pause, your soft fingers retracting into your palm. 

“touch me.” he needs. his hand cupping your own to bring to his face tenderly.

your face is flushed with a dusty pink, the feeling of his face beneath your touch lights the nerve endings in your palm alight. your brow quirks in thought, but not for a moment do you part with his sun-washed eyes. 

“how did you become a vampire?” you ask quietly, your thumb strokes the soft skin beneath his eye, his hand stroking the back of your own. 

“i was born into it. my family comes from a long blood-line of vampires.” you hum in response, taking a moment to study the wash of sun-like gold that overtakes your husband’s eyes. fractals of evening sun beam through the curtains in your bedroom, creating a soft sleepy haze in your room. dust is seen floating in the room in the portions of sun that reach into the room. 

“you’re beautiful.” he beats you to it, realizing he too has been looking at you the entire time. you retract your hand nervously, a smile stretching across your face in sweet embarrassment. “thank you.”

“do you want to be one one day? or do you value your life?” he’s half joking, a floppy smirk on his lips as he sighs a laugh. you hum once more, looking to his mouth to see the slight glimpse of fangs visible to you. 

“maybe. if it meant i got to spend more time with you, than yes.��

minho’s smirk widens, his eyes washing from your face to the curve of your jaw, to the drop of your neck. his mouth parts, his hand coming to the curve of your ribcage over your waist, his warm hand freezes you in place. he lowers his lips to the column of your neck, a lowly drunken gaze filtering over his face. “that could be arranged.” his breath meets the tender flesh of your neck before he presses your waist closer to your body, his soft lips meeting your neck in a single kiss. 

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴

“be careful on the job today.” you crane your neck out of the doorway of the kitchen to look at your husband as he tightens a holster around his thigh. he looks up for a moment, face momentarily stricken with something similar to surprise at your well wishes. he looks down a moment later, checks the clip of his pistol, and then shoves it into the holster. “i will. i’ll be back tonight.” the door closes sharply behind him and you’re left in the silence of your home yet again. 

there’s a pool of melted ice on top of your coffee, you take a sip anyway, the palm of your hand now wet from the sweat off the glass. in truth, you were trying. very sternly trying to make your marriage work. but with circumstances of said marriage coupled with the dangerous reality of your lifestyles, it felt like your assumed fate was dwindling before your eyes - a thin bow ready to snap under pressure. 

being born into crime wasn’t all good fellas or the godfather all the time - no. it was nasty business, some of which you came to regret but again this was the only life either of you knew, leaving the business would be impossible without a gun to your head. you persevered in the face of guilt anyway, not knowing fully how your husband felt about the situation. the sound of your phone ringing brings you out of your head for a moment, leaving you rolling your eyes at the sight of your mother’s name across the vibrating screen. 

“yes?’’ your coffee tastes bitter now, too much water - you pour the contents into the sink as she begins talking. 

“hey hun, there’s a job tomorrow that’s opened up. one of the boys got canned, we’ll pay his bail through an anonymous source but we have to wait a few days so the cops don’t catch on. you in?” your fingers tug a coffee filter out of it’s wooden box, stuffing it into the machine as you press a button on your grinder. 

“mom,” your hand comes to your eyes, rubbing them tiredly. “i told you i was out of the dirty work. i’m doing that shit anymore. and i’m severely out of practice of doing anything hefty.” you explain, the grinder stops, you pour the grounds into the coffee machine. she sighs on the other end, her voice coming through more heated now - pressure started weighing on your shoulders. she says your name with a deadly tone, it leaves you feeling as though there’s a cold metal rod stiff in your back. 

“why don’t you ever look out for this family? you think you can just leave and do the bare minimum when your father and i have slaved over making a good childhood for you?” and then you’d argue back and forth until you felt like ripping your hair out and you’d finally cave and you mom would end the call sharply and once again leave you in the silence of your home that was beginning to feel more like a prison. 

when you heard the beep that ended the call, you tossed your phone to the couch and let your mind wander yet again - what else was there to do in your seemingly failing marriage and rocky relationship with your parents? you hadn’t many friends unless they were in the business, and that only counted for a few really close ones. you track around your kitchen with your fingers pushed into your hairline, and your mind wanders back to something she’d said on the phone a few weeks ago. 

“we found you your husband, is that not good enough for you?”

you hadn’t even the energy to put up with audacity of that claim. so you ended the call and showered, but it still ate at you greatly - because no. no it wasn’t enough. changbin, as dedicated to the lifestyle as he was, and you respected him for his commitment, was terrible at showing you what he truly felt. most conversations were barely that, mostly exchanges if anything - and the few good times you’ve had together were truly the only thing keeping you around if it wasn’t for the godforsaken hope you managed to hold onto. 

you saw the good in him - the good he was capable of, and every time you’d suffocate yourself in thought about being three months in and still not working together as a married couple should, you reminded yourself of this fact. it’s what kept you in, what drew you closer to him. because what could you both be? it’s already bad enough you have feelings for the guy and he clearly didn’t feel the same way. 

“fuck,, what am i gonna do.” to clear your head you showered again, tying back your wet hair and slumming around the house until changbin arrived back home when you’d be drifting off to sleep. at least you had an opportunity to clean; and when the house was clean, you felt a bit better. you were correct about changbin returning late - you heard a long sigh as he entered your bedroom, the plop of a duffel bag could be heard. when you look at the time on your phone you see it’s just past three in the morning. 

“how’d it go?” you ask tiredly from the bed, the bathroom light flickers on and he raises his head a bit. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“it’s okay. you okay?” 

“yeah. yeah, everything went fine. what’d you do today?” you see the rings of exhaustion circling his eyes as he strips off his shirt and hides the smallest of winces.

you sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes as the sink begins to run. “i talked to my mom on the phone. doing a job tomorrow night. cleaned the house though.”

“what kind of job?” he asks as he starts the shower. you talk a bit louder so he can hear you over the sound of the spray. oh he wasn’t going to like the sound of this - these kinds of jobs were everyone’s least favorite in the business. 

“there’s a warehouse on fifth, when you’re leaving the downtown area. apparently some guys are trafficking there. gotta take them out.” 

“shit.. be careful. small time guys have been trying to make names of themselves.” 

“i know, i will be.”

careful you were, but careful was not enough. those guys holed up in that warehouse with every corner covered, not only that, but with automatic weapons with full mags, dressed in black to blend with the shadows. the job was done, the victims released into promised care and with you aid in the following days, be returned to their families or brought to homes, but not without some wounds of your own. the guys dropped you off at the back of your house, granted it was past midnight but you couldn’t be too careful. your home was secluded - but what the law knew was unbeknownst to the organization in regards to this mission in particular. 

you left your weapons in the van with the promise of getting them back the next day. “c-clean the blood off it for me, would you?” you grinned, shuffling from the van with your arm slung over your partner. you lean nearly fully into his weight as he aids you in finding your back door. you bang on the big sliding window before unlocking it, letting changbin know you were home. 

“we gotta get the fuck outta here. you be careful yeah? call me tomorrow morning.” the driver calls before peeling away from your home. you nod, using the wall to stumble inside your house as the living room is suddenly flooded with light, and your husband walks out of your bedroom with his phone in hand and his brows furrowed. 

“changbin,,” you push the door closed, leaving bloody handprints everywhere you touched. 

“fuck- okay, okay, okay- it’s alright. come here.” his outstretched hands come to wrap your arm around his shoulders and stabilize on your waist as he helps you walk to your bathroom. 

hot spots of pain blossom on your waist, ribs, and leg. it’s throbbing, all encompassing, and leaves your eyes watering when changbin’s palm presses a little harshly into your side. throughout the house your gasps and groans of pain are heard, changbin is working as diligently and carefully as he can to help you to the bathroom, only imagining how much you must be hurting. 

“okay, okay- i’m gonna lay you on the floor okay?” he helps you rest along the floor after he’s put some towels down, and kneels by your side before grabbing the extensive first aid kit you kept in your bathroom. you nod, closing your eyes to focus on breathing, but every breath in hurts, and every exhale throbs your wounds. 

“where are you hit?” he asks, you now notice his hands are tainted with your blood in just a few splotches. he rummages through the kit, reaching for the hem of your shirt as he cuts through your gear and clothing. “m-my sides, and,, one in my left leg.” 

“alright. it’s gonna be okay - let’s get you sewn up. what happened?” he asks as a way of distracting you from how bad this was about to hurt. he pours some alcohol in his hands before barring your torso to his eyes, now seeing the festering wounds. 

“t-they-” you laugh because it’s hurting so bad and your eyes are getting glossy as adrenaline leaves your body. “they had automatics… every one of them was geared the fuck up. and not only that but there must’ve been twenty,, twenty five of them and five of us.” 

changbin’s head slowly shakes in disappointment that you were set up that badly for failure, his haw is tight - but he remains focused on the task at hand, cleaning you up. he lifts you up with one arm and helps you shred your arms of your sleeves completely, focusing now on the wound near your ribs. “why’d they send you in with only five people? did they want you to die? fuck.” 

“seems like it.” you chuckle, his hand stabilizes before he reaches into your wound with medical pliers to grab the bullet still embedded in you. your grip tightens on the towels beneath you, eyes now swimming with tears as you groan at the feeling of the tug of the pliers. 

“i know, i know. you’re doing good though, talk about something. tell me about the job or- your favorite music or something.” his hands dip into a bowl of water, returning to your wound to clean you from blood and put some pressure on the wound. 

“the job was shit, but,, the guys are gone. all the victims are safe and i’ll work on paper work to get them home tomorrow.” he hums, nodding. he puts a bit of topical numbing around the wound before grabbing sutures to close the open wound. “as far as music,” you laugh to yourself again, your gaze focused on the ceiling. “you trying to get to know me? didn’t think you cared so much for that.” 

his hands pause. then lower. he looks at you with a kind of genuinity you didn’t expect from the man you called your husband. “of course i care. you’re my wife.” 

“you’re always so focused on the work, on your job. you’re gone a lot. i can tell you care about the organization i just,, i don’t know. i always hoped you’d care for us too.”

he frowns a bit, his gaze is focused back to his hands as he threads the string more diligently through the needle. he’s paused, he has a focused expression and you can tell when you look at him he’s thinking - part of you hopes you haven’t stumped him, or made him uncomfortable - maybe you did hold out too much hope. 

“i do care about us. about you. i always figured since we were arranged to be married that you wouldn’t want much to do with me.” when he returns to working on your wound you wince, eyes closing tight. he apologizes quietly, but it’s over quicker than you expected. 

“i want everything to do with you, silly. you’re my husband. i want this to work between us if we’re going to be married.” your eyes are still watery and the throbbing hasn’t subsided - you wonder if part of this is delusion since your filter has seemingly disappeared in the face of pain. 

he smiles, softly. “i’m sorry that i’ve made you feel that way, and hey-” his hand reaches for yours, the one that bears the ring he gifted you on the day you were married. your eyes meet his as your head lulls to the side, you grasp onto his hand as if he’d stabilize you - and he does. “i do care about you. genuinely.”

you squeeze his hand, the wash of tears that drowned your eyes from pain spill finally. “i care about you too.” 

“don’t cry, silly. i’m almost done, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” 

after changbin coaches you through treating your wounds, he runs you a quick bath and helps you wash the dirt and sweat from your hair. it felt strange to say you felt an overwhelming trust to him - but maybe that was just the energy he exuded. he helps you to bed, and quickly showers off himself before laying next to you. 

his arm wraps around you, and the pain in your side has dulled from the medicine he made you take after closing up your wounds and cleaning them. your head rests on his chest comfortably. “you never answered my question about music.” he says suddenly. 

“i’ll play you all my faves tomorrow morning when you cook me breakfast because i got shot.” you grin cheekily against him. 

“deal.”

𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴

“i am to be his wife.” there was no expression in the gaze you cast your parents, hands folded neatly in front of you, ever obedient in the face of nobility. before your eyes, in the face of your youth your life of freedom ever awaiting your embrace is taken from you and shackled. your life is to be given to a man you didn’t know, and when shoved his own in your hands you feel the pulse of forgotten life in your palms. there was more to say other than you didn’t want this, there was more words you could sputter in anger at your parents, other screams and cries for this to not happen, yet you swallow, let your eyes gloss over, and prepare a wedding in the following year to a man you’d meet only once before promising forever to him. 

across from you at the altar he stood jaw tight, eyes glassy yet lifeless. when the wedding guests settled and your father handed you off to the prince’s hands, you breathed deep in an attempt to conceal the building tears that sparkled in your eyes. officiant you didn’t know, in the sea of people commending your marriage you knew few faces, and he spoke vows because of remembrance not because of promise. when he lifted the veil from your eyes to look at you, he for a moment faltered and his lips flattened. 

you kissed him because you had to. and you slept beside him that night because you had to. 

in marriage, you always imagined that life would blossom with a spark of light. as a seal to two people’s testament of their love it would grow into something truly beautiful - it would drink in the sun, bathe in the rain, paint its colors on pages and tell its story on lips through decades. as a young girl, the idea of one day marrying someone that loved you was thrilling to say the least. it was pure; and good. and every notion, every dream, every promise to your life you’d made, was stripped from you in a single evening. 

you’d rise from bed when the maids would wake you to dress. you’d be dressed beside your husband, wearing the rings that testified your union, and would watch over the kingdom that would be given to your hands one day. 

there was no use in trying, not even from the start. 

but you wanted to love him. oh you terribly wanted to love him. 

beside him you’d sleep - watching the curvature of his heart shaped lips, the breathing his body exuded - existence. how you were his without him even knowing. only in this state could you see him, really see him. the sprawl of his hair on the pillow before it was to be tied back that morning upon your wake. beautiful he was. when his eyes fluttered open, he wet his lips and you heard him speak - for the first time it felt as though it was to you. 

“i’m sorry.” 

for the entire rest of the day you spent in a haze in your own head. 

two months have gone by, and you were achingly in love with him. but you couldn’t say the same for him; his headspace was unknown. you shared a great castle together, a smaller one just outside the village as your parents lived inside the city walls in the palace, but home felt like a restraint on you. nothing was sacred.

when you spoke, it was matters of business and a shred of the time was talk of personal matters. the only truth you spoke to hyunjin was in the hours before he’d wake when sleep would leave you too early. you tuck your folded hands together under your pillow, your eyes washing over his face as he slept. upon your movement, he turned to his side, his broad shoulders creating lines of his body beneath his sleep shirt. part of you wanted to reach out, to wrap your arms around him and tell him you believed in the both of you, but your thoughts still to silence. 

“i wish you cared for me, in the way i care for you.” you mumble quietly. 

“but i cannot say it yet. you’re a shadow; yet you’re sorry. i’m so confused in my love for you.” 

that’s when he turned over, his eyes open. the maids walk in a second later and your wide eyes glance to them. they pause in their steps, looking between the both of you. had he heard you? surely not. you push yourself onto your elbows as he speaks to the maids, his own hands planted firmly in the mattress. 

“i can dress her.” 

they quickly excuse themselves after, mumbling as they leave the room hurriedly. the room stills, you’re left in the wake of his words with confusion bubbling through your head and your face suddenly flushed. he stands without another word as they’ve left the room, moving to the closet to fetch your under clothes, corset, and gown for the day. 

“hyunjin,” you speak softly. 

“i care greatly for you. i do, but-” 

you swallow, still sitting on the bed with your legs curled beneath the covers. “you cannot dress me.” you hold a hand to pause him in his movements as he approaches with your day clothes in hand. he swallows, “you’re my wife. i can dress you. if you’d let me.” 

hwang hyunjin was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen, and this he knew as well - yet the cool confidence he usually carried on his shoulders, in his handshakes, and in his voice, had dissipated. he looked at you with darting eyes that searched your own for the answers he needed, his hands gripped your dress tight. 

his hand stretches out to you, offerance of aid. you look to his palm, the gentle length of his fingers, and find his exuding energy welcoming - so you take his hand. it’s warm as your skin washes over his own, his hands were smooth and embracing, and you stand before him with a sharp intake of breath. 

“i’ve made you feel this way,” he begins, beginning to untie the laces that hang from the neck of your night dress. there’s a great deal of nerve vibrating through your body at the prospect of him dressing you, but regardless you let him in the wake of his tenderness. and if it meant a moment you could share closer to him - you’d take it. 

“you only speak your feelings to me when you think i’m asleep.” at that your breath stills, panic settles in quietly to your bones. 

“i-i’m sorry i-” “you have no need to apologize, it’s me. i’ve made you feel this way. and i’m sorry.” when your dress is removed, he kneels at your feet to gather it before letting you step into your under dress. you rest your hand on his shoulder for balance to do so. 

“in truth, i can’t tell you why i love you.” he says, his hands working to tie your second layer skirt around your waist, once it’s firm and not uncomfortable, you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes. “you cannot say such things to me and not mean it. you can’t.” 

“i know i haven’t shown it, but it’s true, that i promise you.” with that, he gently guides your arms through the holes of your corset, and begins lacing it, leaving your eyes drowning in tears as your lips tremble. 

“you-you haven’t shown it. how am i to know you love me or that i love you when we hardly have a relationship. you’re my husband, i want to love you as one.” you gasp as he pulls the strings to tighten it, his palm laying flat on your back as he tugs once more. 

“it’s a promise i make now, to show you i do indeed love you. i want you to tell me when you’re hurting, i want to help, i want to grow with you.” his hands lay along your waist as your corset is tightened. when he rounds you, seeing your eyes fogged over, his heart pangs with guilt. 

“i’m sorry, truly. that i have made you feel this way. but please, know my promise is true.” his hands come to gather yours in his grip. 

you nod, wiping your face for a moment as you lift your gaze to look at him. “then i’ll tell you. i’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. i want to work to make this kingdom a happy place for our people, we must work together in that regard.” 

hyunjin listens, strokes his thumbs across the backs of your hands and you speak for a while longer on your marriage, how you’re both willing to work to make your love make sense, how you wish to be a unit in making the kingdom a place of happiness for your people. he prepares for the day, wearing an outfit the same shade of off-white as your own with his long dark hair tied back into a bun. 

he offers his arm to you before you both leave your bedroom, smiling softly. “thank you for talking to me.” he says, opening the door for you. “thank you for listening and talking as well. it feels nice to have this weight lifted.” 

“i agree.”

sorry if hyunjin's is written weird i was listening to cornfield chase by hans zimmer and got lost in the sauce.

[crimsonnsstuff]

Dark thanos x babysitter reader she came to babysit thanos ' little sister. 'Cause his parents believe he's not responsible enough to take care of his little sister. Reader tried to befriend thanos but after finding out he's an active drug addict after overhearing his parents convo. So she started to stay away from him. Doing everything possible to Stay out of his sight. When parents are overseas and reader has to work overnight. That's when the took his chance with her. She tells him off she has a bf but thanos doesn't care. Non Con pls <333

It’s not exactly as you requested, but I’m lazy! <3

You recently got a new babysitting job. You were babysitting Thanos’s little sister. Thanos was a grade above him, but you have never talked to him. You’ve heard other people talk about him, and how he’s a junkie, but you didn’t think that was true. Sure, he was a bit eccentric.

You knock on the door. To your surprise, Thanos opens the door. You haven’t really seen him before. He had a controller in his hands and a set of headphones on. He lifts one of the muffs up. “What?” “Oh, hi. I’m here for my babysitting job” you mutter. He opens the door, letting you in.

He plops down on the couch. “My parents will be out in a sec.” He groans before going back to his game. You nod and stand there awkwardly. Suddenly, his parents come out, suitcase in hands. “Oh, hi dear!” His mom exclaims. “Hi,” you say softly.

“Sorry, we are in a rush. Make sure yun-hee is in bed before 9. No food or drinks before 7” she says. You nod, “okay, sounds good!” You say smiling. They both rush out the door. You turn to Thanos.

“Where’s Yun-hee?” You ask. He lifts one muff off his ear. “Who knows, probably sleeping. All that little shit does is sleep.” He groans, putting the muffin back over his ear and going back to playing his video games. You sigh, sitting down on the couch next to him and scrolling on your phone.

The rest of the day you played with Yun-hee, having pretend tea parties, letting her braid your hair. You woke up in the middle of the night. You look over at the clock on the nightstand. It was 2am. You stand up. You were only wearing a pair of underwear and a T-shirt. You throw on a pair of shorts.

You quietly tip-toe out of the guest room. You walk into the kitchen, flicking the light on. There was Thanos, in nothing but grey sweatpants. You gulp. “What are you doing up?” He asks. “I’m thirsty. “Where are the cups?” “Top left cabinet.”

You open the cabinet, pulling out a glass. You put it under the tap, filling it up with water. You turn back to look at Thanos and see him putting something in his mouth. “What’s that?” You ask. He holds up a ziploc baggy with several different colored pills, shaking it. “That shits not good for you.” “Why do you care? You’re not my damn mom.”

You sigh and turn back, sipping out of your glass. You feel two cold hands on your waist. You flinch and turn around. “What the hell are you doing!?” You ask, bringing your hand up to slap him, but he catches it before you do. “Playin around.” He says.

He grabs your other hand, pinning them both in front of you with one hand. He brings his other hand up and squeezes your breast through your shirt. “Thanos..!” You whisper-yell. “I-I have a boyfriend!” He looks around the room. “I don’t see him anywhere.” He says, smirking.

Your heart drops. Was this really about to happen? Your eyes tear up. He grins and picks you up, setting you on the counter. “For me?” He says, looking down at your thin shorts. You sniffle. “Don’t cry yet.” He growls.

He pulls your shorts down, along with your panties. “You’re already wet. You like this.” He says, quirking a brow. “N-no, I don’t!” “Yes you do.” He says, plunging 2 fingers into your core, making you double over in pain and pleasure.

He starts to thrust that roughly. His fingers dig into your insides, making you whimper. You grip onto his arm, sobbing softly. He smirks and pulls his fingers out, reaching up and wiping them in your face.

He pulls you off the counter, spinning you around and bending you over it. He yanks his sweatpants down. He pumps his cock a few times. He taps it on your clit and you sniffle. He grunts as he slides into you, your pussy squeezing him so tight. You yelp and he slaps your ass. “Shut up, slut. You want this.” He growls.

You start to think about your boyfriend. What would he do if he saw you like this, bent over a counter while getting railed by this purple haired fuck. Thanos wasn’t even moving, but your legs were shaking from how deep he was. You grunt softly as you feel him tearing your pussy up.

He thrusts in and out roughly and you whimper. He grabs your hair and slams your face down into the counter. Your tears fall onto the marble counter, sobs falling past your lips. He grunts, throwing his head back. “You sound so pretty when you’re crying.” He growls, getting off on your sadness.

He grips your hips, pulling you back onto him in time with his thrusts, completely using you for his pleasure. You squirt on his cock and he snorts from how quick you came, but he doesn’t stop thrusting. “For someone who has a boyfriend, you sure love this.” He says.

You shake your head, unable to get words out. He pushes a hand down on your back, forcing you to arch it more. He slaps your ass, leaving a red handprint. “Fuck, this view..”

You leans down, chest pressing against your back. He pulls your hair, giving himself access to your neck. He bites down on it, making you yelp. He pulls back and lick a tear that was falling down your cheek. He leans back, pulling your hands behind you back and thrusting into you harder.

“Gonna ruin you for your boyfriend..” he grunts out, thrusting deeper and faster, stretching you to the limits. “Shit, shit, shit!” He murmers, cumming deep into your pussy. He keeps thrusting, fuckign his cum deeper into you.

He pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants. He pulls your panties and shorts back up. “Let that drip out and I’m gonna fuck your ass until you can’t walk.” He says, walking out of the kitchen.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Guns and Dahlias

𖤐Pairing: CrimeLord! Ghost x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, harsh language, innocent! Reader, married couple, mentions of violence, guns, blood, kidnapping, knives, drinking, smoking, brief nudity, nipple play, P in V, kissing/making out, age gap (32-40), no codenames,

𖤐Summary: Ghost a Crime Lord that everyone fears, everyone bit his own wife

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————

New Years

"I don't care-just bring me my goddamn money, how hard is that," his hand slams on the table making a loud bang. "Listen, listen, I don't fucking care, just bring me the 150,000 and I'll consider not putting 15 bullet holes in your fucking face, you have 24 hours, and if I don't see money in my hand by 7 o'clock, I'm finding you and killing you myself, does that work?"

Simon Riley, a Crime Lord in Manchester, he gives no fucks who you are you make a deal with him or you ask him to do something, he wants something in return doesn't matter how big or small the job is he wants something in return.

In this case some man had asked Simon to stop some illegal weapons getting shipped overseas, and Simon had asked $150,000 in cash as his payment and hasn't received it in over 4 months, and now, he's not giving a shit anymore.

He hangs up and tosses his phone onto his desk, sitting down on his chair and his hands going to his face, just how he wants to spend his New Years, doing work while he should be out there enjoying a party with his wife, but instead is here doing fucking business.

Soon his door was open, he looks up ready to yell at the person to get out, but he met the eyes of his wife, coming in with her glass of wine and a small glass of bourbon.

"Honey?"

"My love, why are you in here? You should be out there, enjoying the party."

"You should be out there too, everyone is wondering where you are, you're all cooped up in here."

"I'll be down soon, I promise."

"Tell that to your mom, she asked me where you were and asked if you slowing down on your...business."

"I'm trying," he takes the glass from her and takes a small sip from it. "Anyone else giving you trouble?" He asked, ready just in case.

"No, no violence or crimes tonight, honey, just come out and party with us," she cups his face and kissed his lips.

"I'll down soon, I have one last call," he says, kissing her forehead and he waits till the door was shut to grab his phone and call his right hand man, John MacTavish.

"Johnny."

"Huh? What's up?" He says.

"I'm having an issue with that...douche bag that still owns me money keep an eye on him and his men, do what's necessary in case someone get out of line."

"Will do, did the missus tell you no killing tonight?" John chuckles on the other side of the phone.

Simon mocks his chuckles. "Funny, and she did, just do it." He growls before hanging up his phone.

Simon puts his phone in his back pocket and opened the door to his office making sure it's shut all the way and locks from the outside, the office was always off limits to everyone expect him, his men and his wife.

He walks downstairs seeing everyone either talk, drink, smoke, play some games or even watched the New Years Party on TV that was shooting from New York.

He sees Y/n sitting on the couch next to her cousins, he's familiar with, most of the guests here were Y/n's family who wanted to come and hang out and even see Y/n if they haven't seen her in a long time. Simon was making his way to Y/n kissing the top of her head and his big, rough calloused hand resting on her shoulder.

Simon then sits next to her his arm going behind her, she leans into his side as her cousin Mark started to talk about his own business, Mark owned a marketing company.

Simon then could feel his phone vibrating in his back pocket, he shakes his head but takes it out of his back pocket, Y/n looks at him and gives him a pout.

"Simon-"

"Just real quick," he says, answering the call and running off to a more quiet and private area.

"What is it?" He sounded mean, and serious. The man on the other line was Johnny giving Simon details about the money being handled, and then how Johnny is watching his men collect the money and they were checking to make it was real and not tempered.

Y/n had left her family at the couch, she walks down the hallway seeing the library door slightly opened and heard Simon's deep and gruff voice from the other side of the door, she pushes it open and walks to her husband.

He hears her heels clicking on the marble flooring so he wasn't too alarmed on who it was, he feels her arms snake around his waist and she is front of him now, her chin resting on his chest looking up at him as he starts talking to Johnny, his eyes were dark, cold and heartless, no sign of emotions.

He hangs up his phone and placed it back in his back pocket, he looks down at Y/n, his eyes changed to warmth, he cups her face and leaned down and kissed her lips.

"Are you done for the night?" She asked.

"Hopefully," Simon says, peppering her face with kisses. "I won't answer my phone anymore for the rest of the night," he says, kissing her lips and soon the kiss became heated.

He picks her up and moves her against the tall window, placing her back on the ground, he takes her hands and traps them in his hands and against the window.

His breathing was heavy and he looks into her eyes, kissing her lips again, she pulls her hands away from his, her hands going to his blonde hair or resting on the nape of his neck.

His lips attacked her neck, kissing it, sucking on it a bit, and even biting it, not leaving marks though. His hands then go her legs and lifts her up and she wraps her legs around his waist. He moves to the one of the chairs that sat in front of the fireplace.

She pulls back from his lips, her hands resting on his shoulders, she moves her hands behind her back and starts unzipping her dress, once it was lose, she moves the straps off her shoulders, exposing her breasts, her nipples were perked up from the sudden coldness.

He smirks when seeing her bare chest in front of her, his hands slid up her waist and goes behind her pulling at the dress to be fully off her body now, but she just waves a finger in his face that he's not in control, she is.

Simon may be the scary man everyone fears, but when it comes to sex, Y/n is in charge not Simon.

She leans forward kissing his lips as his hands just roamed all over her body, going between her body and squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, and rolling her nipples between his fingers.

"Where's Y/n and Simon?" Y/n lifts her head when hearing someone call for them, Simon was still kissing her bare skin, but she pulls away.

Simon looks up at her and smirks.

"What?" He asked.

"We have to keep our guests entertained, we don't have time for this right now," she says.

"Sure, we do, we snuck away from a little bit, we're so close," he pleads.

"No, Si, come on," she fixes herself up and Simon gets off the chair, Y/n goes to window able seeing her reflection fixing her dress, her hair and making sure there are no marks on her body. Simon goes up to her gently smacking her butt and kissing her neck.

"Come on," she pulls him out of the library and they see everyone surrounding the TV, the ball was getting ready to drop. Y/n and Simon grab a drink, and Y/n drags her husband to the crowd and watched the TV as they all yelled at the countdown.

"10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!" Everyone shouts, loud poppers go off, the loud sounds of party blowers going off, couples kissing, children cheering. Simon held Y/n's waist pulling her in and giving her at first a small peck but then pulling her close and the became a bit heated, some cheered, while Y/n was laughing and trying to keep Simon from getting too carried away.

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

5:00 AM (Next Morning)

Simon was grunting, he was giving his wife the best pleasure she could be receiving into the New Year, her head back buried into the pillow, her knuckles turned white as she was gripping the soft material.

Her ass bouncing as Simon was gripping her ass, giving a small squeeze, smirking when Y/n would moan his name, her knees weak and she'd let him know that she was feeling good.

"F-Fuck," she moans out.

This has been going on since 3 in the morning, Simon had woken up to feeling himself getting morning wood, he at first didn't want to wake up Y/n but she was already awake, she couldn't sleep but him moving around and being uncomfortable made her ask if he wanted to fuck, and of course this is where we are now.

Y/n could feel herself close to coming and then without warning came on her husbands dick, giving Simon the motivation to come faster and he soon did, he came inside of her.

His forehead rested between her shoulder blades.

"God," he mumbles against her skin. He falls on the bed and Y/n did too, she snuggles up to his side, Simon then picks up Y/n taking her to the bathroom to clean each other up.

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

Simon sat in his office, shirtless and some sweatpants, he was checking emails, answering calls if the phone rang. Y/n was in the kitchen making breakfast for Simon. They made a plate and walked to the office. She pushes it open and smiles at him.

"Here," she says, placing the plate down and she kissed his cheek.

"Thank you, my love," he says. "Smells good."

"Hopefully, it is," she giggles, she walks out of his office and as she rounds the corner, she bumped into Johnny.

"John, you're here early," she says.

"Yeah, I'm just here to speak with the boss," he says.

"I see, he's in his office," she says, walking away, John turns his head seeing just peaking from the bottom of the oversized shirt Y/n's booty cheeks, John knew to control himself, as he turns he is faced with red eyes burning into his soul.

"You better not be fucking thinking something," Simon says, John swallowed a lump in his throat.

John puts his hands up. "No, no, nothing."

"Get in my office," Simon growls.

Doesn't matter if you are friends with Simon since birth, you fuck around with his wife, you will either get a bullet between your eyes or a piercing burning stare into your soul that will scare the absolute shit out of you.

"Updates," Simon says, shutting the door and immediately wanting answers.

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

6:00 AM

Y/n sits on the couch, she had cleaned up a bit from last night before the maids came in, just to help out. Simon had called some maids to come clean up even though Y/n said she could do it, Simon told her.

"I don't want your pretty little hands getting dirty," he says. "I need them to be able to please me when I ask." He teased.

As Y/n sat on the couch, Simon and Johnny had came out of his office, Simon was fixing his blazer and his tie making him look professional, he didn't ignore Y/n to go to the garage and get into a car and leave.

Y/n sits up on her knees turning around as Simon walks to her, cupping her face and kissing her face.

"I'm going to the casino to go pay someone a visit, I'll be back later tonight, okay?"

"Okay, be safe."

"I will." He smiles and gives her one more kiss, before walking to Johnny and they go the the huge garage that held over 13 different cars in the garage, he unlocks a 2024 Bugatti W16 Mistral, a sleek black exterior with red and black interior. It was sleek and a fucking sexy car.

Y/n could hear the loud engine starting up and watching as the black car takes off out of the driveway and the black gate opens up.

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

At the casino that of course Simon owned, the man owns 5 different casinos, 3 in London and 2 in Las Vegas, besides being a hardcore Crime Lord, he was one of the most richest man in Manchester.

As he pulls up outside his casino, his first owned casino, one that is hard to get in, the oldest standing casino and the one that makes him the most money, he gives the keys to valet and walks in with Johnny behind him.

A waitress came up to him giving him a glass of bourbon of course all his employees knew who he was, what he did, and they all work for him so if someone suspicious is at the casino they will let him know and he'll come handle it.

Simon knew the man who owed him money would be here tonight, trying to avoid him instead of paying back the $150,000. What an idiot showing up at a casino owned by the very man he was trying to dodge.

They went up to Simon's office that overlooked the casino, Simon went to the window that outlooked at the casino and then window were a one way mirror, no one can see in, but Simon could see out. The windows were also super thick meaning no bullets could go through the glass.

He looks out and sees everyone gambling their hearts out, laughing, drinking, some smoking and some looking intrigued with the waitresses roaming around the casino passing drinks out.

"How long are we waiting?" John asks.

"As long as we need to," Simon was short and blunt with him.

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

12:00 PM

Simon looks down at his patrons, he was scanning everyone faces trying to find someone that is either familiar with the man that owns him money or the guy himself.

But no one, he even looked at people who he deemed as 'suspicious' but nothing. Surely this asshole was coming to his casino, he was given word he would be coming here, which is why Simon is here.

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

Y/n sat on the couch watching TV most of it is News stuff, she had very little interest in, but she watched it anyways. They were talking about a sudden rise in murder cases in downtown London and Manchester. Y/n messes with her fingers worried about Simon.

She of course knows what Simon does for a living room, but isn't scared of him, she was always worried about him. She then turns the channel and sees lunch is on it's way, she gets up off the couch and goes to the kitchen to make herself something.

As she gets to the kitchen what she didn't know was someone watching her from inside the mansion.

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

Simon sits in his chair bored, but he has to deal with it, he is just sitting and waiting, Johnny then comes in.

"Boss...he's here..."

"Good, time to pay him a visit," he fixes himself up and then leaves his office and goes to the table he was at. He sits at the table and the man shudders when he knew Simon sat next to him.

"Harry O' Meta."

"Simon Riley."

"You know why I'm here..." short and sweet. "Where's my goddamn money?" Simon asked as the dealer was passing out the cards to everyone at the table.

"I have it," Harry has a smirk on his face as if he's one step ahead.

"So, where is it?"

"You may want the money...but I have something you may want even more," Harry then passes Simon a photo face down. Simon looks at Harry with a serious look on his face.

Simon grabs the photo...flipping it over and seeing what the photo was. Y/n on the ground blood running out of her mouth, and nose, her hands tied in front of her as she was sitting in a chair but she was knocked over like she was beaten.

Simon slams the photo down on the table and grabs Harry from his seat, lifting him up and slamming him against the nearest wall.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE!?"

"Now, now, Mr. Riley. If you kill me, you'll never find out where she is." Simon stays silent, a low growl rumbling in his throat, before slamming Harry to the ground. He begins to beat him, not enough to kill, but just enough to make him suffer. Enough to make sure Harry felt a fraction of the pain Y/n had endured.

Simon lifts the bloodied man off the ground and yanks him to his office where he slams Harry on the ground.

"Tell me where the fuck my wife is." Simon demands.

"You kill me and you'll never know," Harry reminds Simon.

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

The room was dark, Y/n vision was blurry.

"Oh look who's up, the Queen," one man laughs. Y/n groans from the sudden pain she was feeling in her face.

"Hope boss can hold his own," another says, knowing that Simon could beating the man right now.

One of the men came by and pulls the chair Y/n was on up off the floor, her head felt weak, she could barely hold it up, her head went forward and one of the men pushed her head back making her slam the back of her head on the wooden chair.

"Hey keep your head up, Queen, we have to send the King one more photo of your..." he cups her chin seeing her bruised left eye, cuts covered all over her face, and dried blood under her nose, lip, and chin. "Lovely face," he says, sarcastically and takes a photo.

He pushes her head away and laughs as Y/n groans once more in pain. Dried tear stains stained her cheeks, she needs Simon right now, she just wants to know he's coming to get her, that he's already sent his men to come and find her.

Simon was given a tablet and received the photo he was more disgusted and infuriated that some lowlife and touching his wife, and wants to cut off the hand of every single man that had harmed his wife.

Simon's knuckles turned white seeing the pain in Y/n's eyes, he wished it was him in her place, she didn't deserve any of this, she did nothing wrong and was never involved with Simon's business.

Harry chuckles as Johnny then punches him in the face.

"How can I take her place?" Simon says.

"You can't." Harry chuckles.

PUNCH

"There's a way, there always is, you want me don't you?" Simon says, standing up and then towering over Harry. "How the fuck...do I take her place..?"

"...Turning yourself in...you know, I'm not the man you are after, I'm just his fucking henchman, turn yourself into him, and maybe...he'll spare her life and take yours instead." He chuckles once more.

"Take me to him."

[studioeisa]

like a python 🧊 jihoon x reader.

jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him.

★ rockstar!jihoon x reader. ★ word count: 2.5k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: non-idol. jihoon-centric, childhood friends, yearning... so much yearning, young k makes a cameo, jihoon is a bit lame (affectionately), cussing/swearing. mentions of alcohol, food. ★ footnotes: got7 dropped winter heptagon and it's all i can think about. wrote this in one sitting as a show of gratitude to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for introducing me to these boys. haven't done a song fic in a hot minute, but for lee jihoon and got7? anything. shoutout to igot7_MarKP on twitter for the english translation of the lyrics.

🎧 now playing: python by got7 — i know i'm an icon, watch me with the lights on; but she got a hold on me like a python.

▸ MUSIC IS HOW I'VE BEEN VENTING NOW... OVERSEAS, I'M SELLING OUT.

It’s pretty surreal to Jihoon, being in a room with some of the biggest names in rock.

In the past hour alone, he’s met Alex Turner, Dave Grohl, and— holy shit, is that Hayley Williams? Jihoon is getting dizzy, and it’s not only because of all the secondhand smoke he’s inhaled since he got to the Rolling Stones afterparty. 

The best of the best. That’s what the invitation had boasted. It was the scene’s most coveted event, and Jihoon somehow made it to the guest list. 

Unbidden, your voice nags from somewhere in the back of his mind. You’re the best, Jihoon-ah. 

He shakes his head, like he’s physically trying to get away from the thought of you. This had been happening a lot more as of late. Fleeting moments wherein he’d imagine how you would react, what you’d say. 

But Jihoon always catches himself. He snaps himself out of it and goes back to recording, goes back to performing. 

God, he needs to get it together. He’s starting to regret saying ‘no’ to the cigarette Ely Buendia was offering him earlier. 

(In Jihoon’s defense, he didn’t smoke often. He didn’t want to fuck up his vocal chords. He had a one-cigarette-a-year rule, and he wasn’t about to use it now. It was only January; who knew what else the year would throw him?) 

Jihoon is contemplating some other vice— maybe he can go grab another beer— when he feels a tap on his shoulder. At the sight of who came up to him, Jihoon immediately folds into a bow. 

“There’s no need for that,” Younghyun says, equal parts amused and embarrassed. “We’re all the same here, yeah?” 

Jihoon pulls himself to his full height. “Not… really,” he says lamely, and then he immediately launches into mumbled apologies when he realizes how he might have sounded. 

It wasn’t that Jihoon thought he was better than his peers. Hell, he knew that he was the least important person in the room. That’s what he meant; they were not all the same, because Jihoon still had a long ways to go. 

Especially when compared to rock icon Young K, who is— gracefully— taking Jihoon’s awkwardness in stride. 

“You’re holding up a lot better than me,” Younghyun muses. “At my first afterparty, I threw up on Rupam Islam.” 

“No.” 

“Yes, unfortunately. He was very nice about it, though.” 

Jihoon lets out a stutter of a laugh. He’s never been a fan of small talk, but he clings to it now like a lifeline. “Does it get easier?” he asks. 

Younghyun’s eyebrows raise. “Throwing up on rockstars?” 

“No, no–”

“I was kidding,” Younghyun says in between chuckles. His expression is a little more pensive when he goes on, “I can’t say for sure that it gets easier, but you learn to deal with it.” 

You learn to deal with it. Jihoon can almost laugh at just how accurate that is. It seems applicable to every aspect of his life— including missing you. 

Jihoon winces. Younghyun notices. 

The older man doesn’t comment on it, probably thinks it’s something else entirely. Younghyun doesn’t flinch away, either, when Jihoon nervously says, “Can I ask you another question?” 

“Ask away,” says Younghyun. “I’ve got nothing better to do.” 

What is Jihoon doing? He doesn’t know either, but it’s either this or fight off the urge to run through a pack of Marlboros. “How do you cope,” he starts slowly, “with… feelings?” 

A beat. Crap. Jihoon realizes he definitely could have phrased that better, because Younghyun is now looking at him with an expression of mild confusion. 

Jihoon backtracks. “You— we— go through a lot in this field of work. Like, a lot. And you— fuck, fine, I’m— grateful for it, really, I swear. But there’s just… so much other things, too, aside from the gratitude. How do you cope with those?”

Jihoon knows he probably looks and sounds like a trainwreck in his bid to be deliberately vague. By some miracle, Younghyun at least seems to understand what Jihoon is trying to say.

Younghyun’s lip quirks to one side as he thinks of his response. The silence stretches uncomfortably long, but then he gives an answer that’s the last thing Jihoon could have expected. 

“I write,” Younghyun says. 

Jihoon blinks once. Then twice. 

“You write,” he repeats, and the former nods. 

“It’s all in my discography. The anger, the heartbreak, the love.” Younghyun raises his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve written nearly 200 songs, and all of them are just— that. Questions. Answers to questions. Feelings and stories.” 

It’s so simple, so obvious. It’s like a glaring traffic sign, like something that every musician should know and do.

Put it in a song. Perform it for thousands and leave the muse none the wiser. Profit. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Jihoon had done it a fair amount of times, but never had he considered putting you to pen and paper. The prospect of it makes something in his chest thrum. 

“I—” He clears his throat. “I think I have to go, sunbaenim. It was nice seeing you.” 

A hint of humor glints in Younghyun’s eye, like he’s somewhat aware of the fact he’s witnessing something unravel. “‘Younghyun’ is fine,” he chirps. “And it was nice seeing you, too, Jihoon. Take care of yourself.” 

The words— take care of yourself— are supposed to be a platitude. To Jihoon, it feels like a tall ask. 

▸ I'M TOURING THE WORLD BUT I'M MISSING THE ONE WHO HELD IT DOWN.

Jihoon is exhausted. 

As much as he wants to say that he’s never been this tired in his life, it’d probably be a lie. He’d make the claim, hit the road, then end up crashing out saying the same damn thing. He’s seen this film before; he knows how it ends. 

He falls back on his hotel bed after his shower. A low groan escapes him, and he sends up a silent prayer to all the higher powers there are. Thank you for sheets with a 300-500 thread count. Thank you for air-conditioning. Thank you for warm showers and Listerine. 

Despite his fatigue, Jihoon can’t just go to sleep. Post-show adrenaline always took a couple of hours to wear off.

He briefly contemplates his options. Write a lyric or two? Watch a shitty Netflix movie? Stare out the hotel window until his eyes can’t stay open anymore? 

None of the above, it seems, as he reaches for his phone. 

Jihoon has never been active on SNS; he just couldn’t bring himself to care about things like TikTok trends or Twitter ‘beef’. It’s a constant thorn in his PR team’s side. There is one thing that he bothers to check, though, and God forbid he deny himself the simple pleasure of some good ol’ fashioned pining. 

He’s been on your Instagram page enough times that it’s the first thing that shows when he goes to the search bar. It’s the only thing that shows, really, which gives some pretty good sense of where his head is at. 

Your profile loads. There’s no new post, no recent story. Jihoon is both disappointed and relieved.

No news is good news, he thinks to himself as he leisurely scrolls through the photos he’s already seen a dozen times before. You, feeding sidewalk cats. You, sipping tea at a cafe. You, in all the places that were once Jihoon’s, too. The beaches, the hiking trails, the restaurant in your shared neighborhood. 

Jihoon opens that particular post. Even though he’s watched your life in squares for the better half of the past three years, this is the one photo that always has him feeling a pang of… something. 

Because Jihoon can imagine it— being at that restaurant with you. The two of you had discovered it together, had pooled your measly school allowances to afford the bokguk and ganjang gejang. 

He imagines being there with this older version of you, being the one snapping the picture that’d find a spot on your feed. He can see it so clearly in his mind’s eye that if he really, really tries, it begins to look more like a memory than a daydream.

But he’s not in Busan, not even in Korea. He’s in the United States instead, where he has ten stops before heading to Canada and Europe. 

Sold-out stadiums. Thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. 

All the food that he could possibly want, and yet it’s pufferfish soup and soy sauce crabs that he’s looking for. 

Every person that he could possibly have, and yet. And yet. 

Jihoon huffs out a frustrated exhale. He’s tired, which he swears makes him delusional. 

He casts his phone aside, blissfully ignorant to the way his finger double taps his screen as he does. 

Halfway across the world, your phone pings.

woozi_universefactory ✓ liked your post. 

▸ I'VE BEEN RUNNING BACKWARDS, RUNNING BACKWARDS LIKE A MARATHON.

The push notification glaring up at Jihoon looks a lot like a bomb that’s about to explode.

Jihoon feels like it’s a bomb, because he refuses to believe that after over a year of absolutely nothing, you’ve messaged first. You’ve messaged first. 

He double, triple checks his calendar. It’s neither of your birthdays. It’s not a holiday, either. Is it Chuseok? No— that doesn’t make sense. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he chides himself under his breath. It’s a text. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jihoon opens the notification. 

And then his heart just. 

Stops. 

You’d sent two messages— the first, being the post that had him spiraling last night. It’s the proceeding message that has Jihoon hoping the ground will swallow him whole. 

Stalking me, Jihoon-ah? 

Holy shit.

Jihoon types out at least three different messages, from Are you a fly on my wall to Is there a new Instagram feature I don’t know about to What happened to “hello, how are you”? 

In the end, he only sends back a single question mark. When he opens the offending post, he immediately sees his transgression. 

Jihoon hadn’t liked the photo before last night. He didn’t like much posts to begin with. How— When— 

His phone pings. He’s never been so thankful that he mostly opts to get room service for breakfast, because the squeak that he lets out is definitely not very rockstar-like. Jihoon fumbles, and he ends up opening your DM before he can psych himself up for it. 

LOL. Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, you say. 

Damn you and your ability to render him speechless. Jihoon wonders if he can get away with not responding, with getting back to you a couple of days later and blaming his work. 

Except. 

Jihoon’s fingers slowly move across his screen. 

It was a good post, he says. 

It was a post from a year ago, you answer. 

So? He throws in an emoji of a man shrugging for good measure. Jihoon never uses emojis, but he can make some exceptions. 

Your respond, So, stalking. You were stalking me. 

Jihoon knows he’s digging a hole for himself, knows he’s going to stay up several nights thinking of just how stupid he is. If he were a stronger man, he’d pull the plug on this conversation and that’d be it. You wouldn’t bug him. He would maybe write a song about this moment. The world would go on. 

But he can hear you. 

In the messages, in the words on his screen. He can hear your voice, the way you’d smile or laugh or tease. How you’d say his name in that sing-song tone he once pretended to hate. 

He hears you in your messages, and he’ll live with the secondhand shame if it means that he gets to keep on listening. 

Not stalking, he shoots back. Just checking in. 

Ah, you say. Because you missed me?~

Despite himself, he scoffs. You’ve always been so shameless. It didn’t matter to you that he was WOOZI the rockstar; to you, he would always be Jihoon who lived three houses down. 

As if, he says to your teasing.

You don’t respond anymore. You don’t even read the message, because Jihoon doesn’t see the little ‘Seen’ under his last message.

He waits for it for a minute. Then five minutes. Then seven minutes. He stops checking at the thirteen-minute mark, because he likes to believe he’s no longer a high schooler with a raging crush on the girl next door. 

He’s a grown man. He’s WOOZI, for Christ’s sake. 

He can’t keep coming back to you.

▸ I GAVE YOU MY TIME WHEN I DIDN'T HAVE MUCH; ALL OF MY FEELINGS, SWEPT UNDER THE RUG.

Except he does. 

WOOZI may not want to. WOOZI may be the bassist writing songs about the past in hopes of leaving things in the past, but Jihoon is a different story. 

Jihoon texts you the moment he lands in Gimhae International Airport. Jihoon stands outside your front door— definitely jetlagged, probably in need of a shower— with his luggage in one hand and his phone in the other. 

Jihoon acts like it’s the world’s biggest inconvenience when he tells you, “Come on, then.” 

The two of you get the crabs and soup. He refuses to talk about his time away; he contents himself with listening, like he always does, and you fill the silence with babble. Your desk job, your parents’ nagging, your hobbies and side hustles. 

“Probably not as interesting as your life,” you joke after a particularly long-winded anecdote about a delivery rider who got your address wrong. 

Jihoon neither confirms nor denies the statement. He only raises one eyebrow and gives you a wordless gesture with his hand. Go on anyway, he’s saying, and you take the cue. 

The meal ends. Jihoon invites you for coffee. Then ice cream. Then a walk. 

“This is very suspicious.” 

Jihoon can’t help it; a snort of laughter escapes him at your words. “Can’t a guy take a friend out to lunch?” he asks humorlessly. 

“And dinner,” you note. 

“And dinner, yes.” 

“And dessert.” 

“And dessert.” 

The two of you are taking the long way home. There’s something to be said about how Jihoon drags his feet, about how you walk like you’re not on borrowed time. Even your conversation moves like you’re beating around the bush.

There is an elephant in the room and Jihoon is done pretending that it’s not there. That it hasn’t been there since the day you two met in primary school, since the first time he held your hand as a teenager, since he became a musician and every song he performed became about you.

Jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him. 

“Are you dying?” 

Your blasé question draws a bark of laughter from him. “Jesus, no,” he says. “Do I have to be dying to want to see you?” 

You don’t answer right away. Jihoon once again has that feeling that he’s said something wrong, something loaded, but you save him from overthinking when you respond with, “You wanted to see me?” 

There it is. That teasing tone, that hint of a smile. 

You bump your shoulder against his. “You missed me, Jihoon-ah. Admit it.” 

And Jihoon is done, Jihoon is tired, Jihoon is still yours after all this time.

“I did,” he finally, finally says. “I missed you.” 

[grandisknight]

zayne: a doctor's companion

summary: A certain healthcare companion finds its way into Linkon City, and a particular doctor is about to discover what it means to say ba-la-la-la-lah.

tags: established relationship, baymax (big hero 6), fluff, canon-complaint, one-shot, medical terms, phone call, gender neutral reader mentioned, mostly zayne's POV, first meetings

word count: 1.8k | (ao3)

notes: inspired by this tweet! also i just love baymax a lot and i think him and zayne would be a cute duo thank you ; including the stanford article i read for the surgery mentioned here! (not necessary for understanding though) (also if i get any med stuff wrong apologies i did my best! i was a girl in stem but not Stem yk)

+ update: the cutest zayne baymax art just dropped everyone say thank you mimi (zaynefied) (i cried)

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

Zayne was sure he had slept well the night before. Had his full eight hours, breakfast accomplished and a handful of kisses from his partner before heading out in his pristine, white coat. The drive to work was the same scenery of Linkon City rushing past, soon parked in his designated lot and tracing a familiar path towards Akso Hospital’s entrance.

So, even with such a practiced routine, how did he end up here? 

“I will scan you now. Please remain in place, Dr. Zayne.”

Zayne raises a hand in an effort to dissuade his unforeseen guest. “That won't be necessary.” But his rejection, in turn, was rejected itself—his brows narrowed at the losing notion.

“But it is. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion.” The robot calmly states, reflecting a similar monotone diction to the doctor. “I was alerted to the need of medical attention,” he continues, plush footsteps along the hardwood floor squeaking as he approaches the seated doctor. "When you said 'Oof.' So, I am here."

That singular oof traced back to the faint murmur under Zayne's breath just minutes ago when pushing through the growing crowd of peering eyes at Baymax's unprecedented presence. An unusual sight for everyday work life, the mysterious yet kind robot drew in the attention of incoming patients and passersby who happened to catch a glimpse. Zayne’s opportune timing and arrival to work hurriedly whisked away the looming inflatable as crowds huddled in growing excitement, geeking and gossiping alike. Most of his efforts thus far were put into escorting the curiously soft giant through the pristine halls and past the doorway of his office without garnering further unwarranted attention.

And currently, Zayne found himself subjected to a consultation by said robot.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” Baymax inquires. A chart of faces ranging in emotion and color flash over his chest in display. At the highest end stood a red expression painted in anguish, and to the lowest was a green facade of serenity.

Quickly, Zayne plainly states his number to mirror his current state. “Zero.”

Baymax stares him down with the abyss of his rather blank eyes wordlessly after receiving the response. In mere seconds, a pixelated, monotone hum with a hint of warmth made its way to Zayne’s ears. “Scan complete. You have sustained no recent injuries. However, your cortisol and neurotransmitter levels indicate that you are experiencing stress.”

No, really? Zayne’s brows and posture straightened then, removing his glasses and setting them aside. He echoes the conclusion, pushing down the unspoken remark with a bite of his tongue. “Stress? Is that so?”

Baymax nods, holding up a singular finger as he continues to reveal his findings. “This can be attributed to, for example, overconsumption of sugary foods or work overload. Have you had any of these two things recently?”

Zayne’s lips purse in thought, remembering the new maple syrup you had doused his pancakes in over an hour ago. ‘I picked this up during an overseas mission and thought you might like it,’ you explained to him, drawing an intricately sticky pattern of hearts atop his breakfast. It was still just syrup—not so much a difference in flavor to a regular one you could find at the nearby supermarket—but he was grateful for the gift nonetheless as he indulged in the sweet treat with you.

“Sugar, yes. Nothing wrong with it when done in moderation.”

Sure, he had a sweet tooth. But had been doing well to maintain a healthy intake of sugary pieces, lest he wanted another round of your ‘scoldings’ and an appointment to the neighboring orthodontist again.

With a slight sigh, he clasps his hands together over the expanse of his desk and continues. As for workload? He was almost always caught up in it, whether it were hands-on procedures or consultations. Today was no exception to the rule.

“And I do have work, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“I see. May I make a suggestion?” Baymax asks.

Zayne gives him a curt signal of acknowledgement. “You may.”

“I can assist you with said workload. I am equipped with several modules and sensors that will be of use.”

Zayne contemplates for a moment, curious to the veracity of such a claim. Well, when one forms a hypothesis, the best way to test out the theory was through a designed experiment; and he was ready to do just that. “Alright. Give me just a moment.”

With a couple of speedy taps, Zayne pulls up a recent patient file and gestures for Baymax to approach. As the airy robot bounces into place beside him, Zayne points towards a diagram, a series of numbers and waves indicating observational data. “Here. Based on what you see, can you tell me what surgery this patient underwent?”

Baymax follows the trail of red lines, analyzing quickly in succession. “Their ECG fluctuations are affected by the noraderaline administrations over time. This line,” Baymax points to a blue parallel. “Indicates the oxygen levels throughout the surgery duration.” Calmly, he turns to blink at Zayne. “Diagnosis? The patient underwent a coronary artery bypass grafting procedure.”

Zayne nodded. Each detail was right on par, much to his surprise. “I’m impressed. Your creator must have put a lot of great effort into you.”

“He did. He was wonderful.” Baymax gives a thumbs up in return. “Am I to take it that I have passed your test?”

So he knew, even without having to say anything. “You have,” Zayne confirms with a small smile.

“Here.” Baymax raises his fingers and curls them into a fist, waiting for Zayne to meet him halfway. Slowly, Zayne does just that, meeting the soft plush before it was pulled away and sealed with a robotic tune.

“Ba-la-la-la-lah.”

“Bah… What now?”

“We have completed our first task together. This warrants a celebratory fist bump.” Baymax returns his enclosed fist towards the confused doctor once more. “You must also say it while our fists connect.”

Not finding it in himself to disagree, Zayne repeats the actions from before and adds on with an unsure, “Ba-la-lah.” Slightly strange, though it held a tinge of endearment that reminded him of a certain someone; he suddenly didn’t mind it as much then, shaking his head to himself.

It satisfied Baymax all the same, hand wiggling away before a sound disrupts the next file to be displayed. Zayne’s phone rings then, a custom set of notes indicating there was only one special caller. Your name flashed on his screen, buzzing in patience as his gaze flicked between that and Baymax.

“Do you mind if I take this?”

Baymax blinks. “I do not mind.”

“Thank you.”

With a swipe, Zayne presses his phone to the cup of his ear, voice softening to answer your call. “Good morning. Are you heading out now?”

“Morning! How did you know?” 

Zayne could make out the rustling of keys with the pattern of your footsteps, a light yet amused scoff from him trickling into the receiver. Even if it weren’t for the traces of noise, you usually left around this time and always texted him a new emoji without missing a day. So, of course he knew. You followed up almost immediately with another answer to support your stance. 

“New mission just came in, and it happens to be near Akso. Guess we’ll be seeing each other again pretty soon.”

“Oh?” His brow quirks at the idea. “What requires you to be in the area, exactly?” Zayne’s hazel hues instinctively settle on the black pools of Baymax’s blink, already knowing the answer that you proceeded to relay.

“There was a… Wanderer sighted?” Even over the phone, your voice relayed doubt amidst a warm crackling sound. “Well it’s not exactly one…allegedly. But rather something big, round and white? Tara said it looked like a walking marshmallow,” you chuckled. Well, it’s not like you were wrong, Zayne confirms with another glance.

“Either way, it’s caused an uproar and the Association is sending me to check it out. I’m assuming you already know what it is?”

“I do.” Baymax tilts his head, pointing a finger to himself in quiet curiosity. Zayne raises his own to his mouth, indicating for a secret to be kept as he muses into the call. “And no, not a Wanderer. Stop by my office when you get here and you’ll see.”

“I’ll be there in 15 if traffic is kind to me,” you chirped in reply. He could make out the humming of your motorcycle come to life, indicating the start of your journey. “See you then! Love you.”

“Alright. Love you too. Be safe.”

As the call came to an end, Zayne shifted his gaze to the even shiftier companion before him. Though Baymax couldn’t necessarily smile, the doctor could feel it radiating off of its plush form as he lifted a familiar finger.

“Your pulse and heart rate have quickened greatly. The rate went from 87 beats per minute to 102 in about ten seconds.” Baymax pauses, and a screen with infographics begins to luminate across his chest once more. “Symptoms may include, but are not limited to, your pituitary glands—“

“I’m aware of how hearts work.” Zayne gestures around to their environment, the glimmer of his name tag reflecting the morning sun filtering through the tall windows. “And… everything else.”

He was a cardiac surgeon, first and foremost. His efforts and contributions have earned him plenty of accolades in the field, a testament to his brilliance and especially at a younger age in comparison to his medical peers. But second to none was he also your partner—naturally, his heart would’ve soared regardless. He was aware of the source to his increased palpitations.

“You are also smiling,” Baymax comments. “Does this person make you happy?”

Zayne freezes then, unbeknownst of how the edges of his lips were curled into a gentle grin. His mouth almost straightens, fingertips brushing over them in thought. He lets out a resounding hum in confirmation, looking away bashfully for a brief moment. “Very much so.”

“That is good. Having someone who makes you ‘happy’ will improve your quality of life.” As if sending him his seal of approval, Baymax gives an affirmative fist of encouragement. No sooner did a wrapped lollipop appear between said fist, and he held it towards Zayne in offering. “Here, have a lollipop.”

“Thank you.” Zayne takes the candy in acceptance, wrapper crinkling in removal before a taste of winterberry spreads across his tongue. “Shall we go through another file until a certain someone comes barging in?”

He could already imagine how your grand entrance would play out, and this time, knowingly smiles to himself at the thought.

With an enthusiastic nod, Baymax takes a nearby chair and places it beside Zayne’s own. Deflating slightly to fit the mold, he puffs up once more in preparation.

“I am ready. Let’s work together, Dr. Zayne.”

[honeyhoshi]

scarlet, starlet pt. 1

summary: mingyu intends to make his girlfriend's wishes come true — all of them.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) mingyu, idol oc, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 3,251

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: DDlg kink, d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, afab reader, lots of mentions of female anatomy, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, making out, dry humping, finger sucking, fingering, squirting, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), slight cum play, cum eating, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, dirty talk

author's notes: yet another work written for my lovely @madeforgyu! this is just part 1 of her birthday gift and is a part of the universe we have lovingly poured soooo much time and effort in. wuv u and all of that!

The excitement that comes with a new album and a comeback sometimes gets lost in just how complicated AM♡RE’s schedule has become. In between having to do pre-recording as a whole team, music shows would request certain members to be part of other variety segments which allowed other members to rest or even take on other schedules.

This led to fussy 4AM pre-recording sessions then running back to the company office to film overseas interviews and just napping during the car rides to and from one venue or another.  By the time the whole team made it back to the KBS building for the live broadcast, the only thing fueling you was adrenaline and obligation. It’s a so-so way of celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday.

You try to shake it out of your system when you think of the cute pink drink truck that was parked by the entrance to the studio that your fans were enjoying. You think it could be a lot worse because you did catch a glimpse of the many birthday ads all over Seoul as you moved from one location to another.

But still, it could be better too.

With all the last minute activities and schedules being fit into every free moment you had in the past few weeks, it had been difficult to really set any celebration plans into stone with your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

A pout makes itself present on your face the second you start thinking of him. Having Mingyu around would make everything that wasn’t ideal about your birthday just simply melt away.

At this point, a message from him would suffice. You’re no stranger to receiving and sending messages at odd times but after Mingyu’s good morning message, all your other texts had gone unread.

You’re wracking your head if he had mentioned anything scheduled today but you come up with nothing because you can clearly remember that he said he was taking the entire day off to celebrate with you.

The thought sticks even as you’re being ushered on stage and you only really snap out of it as you find yourself in front of the crowd, the rest of your members bowing and waving before you have to take your starting positions.

You shake it off, thinking instead of how you’re sure a message from Mingyu will greet you the moment you step off stage.

You’re greeted by something far better than a text message when the music cuts and you’re trying to catch your breath.

A large smile is still plastered on your face as the thrill and joy of performing courses through you. The cheers fill you with warmth and satisfaction, hoping that you had given a good performance for the live show’s crowd, but a voice cuts through the usual noise of fans.

There’s a booming voice coming from the side stage and a “That’s my girl!” that sets every nerve on your body aflame in embarrassment and pride in equal measures.

It’s your boyfriend.

It’s Mingyu.

A bright smile splits your face and you can’t help the flush that paints your face pink as the rest of your members turn to see the afternoon’s special guest. With everyone on stage giggling and whispering amongst themselves with their lapels turned away from their mouths, even the crowd was starting to realize that something out of the norm was going on.

You make your goodbyes quick, giving deep bows of appreciation, but the excitement coursing through your body can’t be contained.

Once your leader has deemed you polite enough, offering you a sympathetic smile and nodding towards the general direction of the backstage area, you can’t move fast enough.

You briskly walk towards Mingyu who, despite his effort at dressing to be discreet, is still the most eye-catching person in the room. Standing tall and proud in the hustle and bustle of the music show staff is the top scorer of the Cheongdam Diamonds, offering you the most wicked grin.

There are so many eyes around you. Looks of jealousy, resentment, and also awe are no longer strange when either you or Mingyu are in the room. Having both of you present just meant all of the above, but a hundredfold. None of that matters to you at all when you let out a squeal and jump into his arms.

You don’t care. You’ve stopped caring. Let them see.

You can no longer count how many bad ideas have become good ones when Mingyu whispers them into your ear. You can’t even remember a time you’ve said no to him and his clever ideas. Not that you ever would really, especially when Mingyu always makes it worth your time.

 It starts innocently enough, as it always does with you and Mingyu.

The second you managed to drag him into your dressing room, locking the door behind him, you had peppered his face and mouth with as many kisses as you could as he giggled and whispered birthday greetings every time your lips parted.

In no time, Mingyu had managed to wrap your legs around his waist and was guiding you as you slowly rocked your hips down onto his. The friction was so delicious even through all the layers of your stage costume but you knew that this would hardly suffice for either of you.

“I fucking hate these shorts,” Mingyu says with a grimace as his hands find their way to your ass, upset to find the layer of your safety shorts standing in his way.

Mingyu has always hated it when he would reach down and find your smooth skin covered with a seemingly offensive piece of clothing. On most days you barely wore any underwear around the house, just the way he likes it.

You love the little look of annoyance in his face and trace the lines of his eyebrows as you sit pretty on his lap, “They’re there to protect me.”

Mingyu can only snort at that.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Imagine if we stopped wearing these, then everyone would see what’s yours, Daddy.”

You feel his frown relax underneath your finger, “We can’t have that now, can we?”

“Nuh-uh,” You answer, allowing Mingyu to guide your hips. Even through the stupid safety shorts you could feel how his cock was pressing against the zipper of his jeans and Mingyu always knew how to find the cleft of your center to ensure that you were grinding your clit onto him.

“Why’s that?” He whispers against your lips, tongue flicking out to lick at your upper lip for just a split second.

You bite your tongue at the pleasure slowly building up between your legs and how he’s teasing you with his tongue, “Because this is yours.”

He makes a face of faux confusion before asking, “What exactly is mine?”

“This pussy.”

“Good girl.”

In no time, Mingyu has you strip for him and you stand before him, completely devoid of your costume. In the back of your head you can already imagine the frustration of the staff member assigned to assist you with getting fully dressed again, but the look Mingyu gives you has you pushing the thought away.

He’s sprawled on the couch as if he owned it and you’re dying to fall to your knees between his spread legs, but the second you move to do so, Mingyu grabs your wrist to stop you.

“It’s my sweet girl’s birthday today, so we’ll do all the stuff you like,” He says, standing up and crowding you against the counters littered with different makeup brushes and pots of eyeshadow and powder puffs.

“But I want to suck your cock,” You state as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mingyu chuckles and you meet his eyes. You’re entranced.

“I know you do, love. But I don’t want you to bruise your knees when I’m dressing you back in that little skirt.”

He has a point and you frown, “How about tonight?”

He smiles as he brings three fingers up to your mouth, “Okay, I’ll even let you choke on it. Now suck on Dad’s fingers, get them nice and messy.”

You immediately let your mouth fall open and start to lap at the three fingers Mingyu offers you, savoring the salt of his skin and the rough pads of his fingers. If you tried hard enough you could pretend they were his cock, hard and smooth and so so delicious. Your little daydream has you salivating in no time, coating Mingyu’s fingers and lubricating them enough for what he’s no doubt about to do to you.

“Look at that little mouth go,” He marvels, “So small, three fingers can barely fit. Are you sure you can suck my cock?”

You’re shaken from your thoughts and immediately a look of distress spreads on your face, “Yes, it can fit! I can make it fit. You’ll make it fit, won’t you?”

Mingyu’s fingers are barely out of your mouth as you try to convince him. The look on your face makes Mingyu smile. It’s horrible and mean and you love it so much.

“Yeah, I’ll make it fit. I’ll make sure my baby will take it.”

You preen at the promise and wait in anticipation as he pulls his hands away from your lips and pressing his mouth against yours.

This kiss was not exactly a typical one. Instead of pressing your lips together, Mingyu licks into your mouth, his tongue bullying its way inside and pushing your own tongue out of the way. He runs this tongue against the roof of your mouth and against your teeth until you slowly start to press your tongue against his.

You groan in relief as he finally eases up to kiss you properly but tense up when you feel one of his hands grab at your left thigh to lift it up and prop it up on the counter. This position has you spread wide open for him. He loves it when he can see all of you.

The slick that’s been gathering between your folds is surely visible in this position and it makes you clench around nothing as Mingyu pulls away to survey you in this position.

“So so pretty,” He whispers underneath his breath, not even to you, just to himself, “Going to destroy this tiny pussy.”

That’s as much warning as you get before he presses two fingers into you at once.

Mingyu is bigger than most men in all aspects. He’s tall and broad, having put in so much time to get his physique to where it is now. His sheer size followed everywhere else. His fingers were long and thick and the press of two into your core has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Whether it was his cock or his fingers, you knew to always expect a stretch. And you loved it.

“Sooo good, Daddy,” is all you can muster as Mingyu sets a punishing pace that has you trembling in his arms in no time.

Each curl of his fingers sent a jolt down your spine that had you inching closer to the edge despite how Mingyu had just started.

“My pussy is taking two fingers so well,” He says, “I think three would be even better.”

You hate that he pulls his fingers out but you’re immediately placated when he brings the two fingers to his mouth to suck your slick off of them.

He makes a noise of delight before removing his fingers and leaning down. For a second you think he’s going to eat you out but instead Mingyu spits out the saliva and slick he’s collected in his mouth and lets it drip down from your clit. 

He moves back to take in the absolutely debauched state of your pussy, smiling to himself, pleased at how messy he’s gotten you, before spreading the wetness with his soiled fingers.

“Are you ready for three, little girl?” He asks, almost mocking. You preen at the nickname and at the promise of the stretch of three fingers inside of you.

Even with the preparation he had given you, he punches a deep exhale from you and he pushes three fingers. The fit is so tight that you can feel how the rough pads of his fingers are. He always did refuse to wear gloves when he lifted weights. Now you want to thank him for it, because the friction inside you makes you want to scream.

It doesn’t help how slowly he’s going either. He’s relishing in how your walls wrap around his fingers, how you tighten up when he slips in a little further. And when he crooks his fingers just right, he can feel how you’re getting just a little bit wetter, slicker.

“You take me so good,” He whispers against your lips, so close it's almost a kiss.

You’re breathless though, mouth slightly ajar, waiting for his tongue to slither between your lips. He doesn’t make a move though aside from a cocky smirk and an arched brow.

Mingyu lets his fingers continue on with their noble job of getting you closer and closer to the edge. Each push and pull of his digits inside you set your nerves alight, but the delicate movement of his right hands make you want to die.

Even as he’s coaxing and orgasm with three fingers on his left hand, the fingers on his right are tracing delicate swirls and unrecognizable patterns along your inner thigh. Every now and then they’d go higher, just by the lips of your pussy.

The pace is much too slow for your liking and you’re worried that your absence would start to seem suspicious. You weren’t at Mingyu’s training center where everything is kept under lock and key with a very well written NDA. You were at Music Bank where staff members were nosy and there was surely another girl group member roaming the halls, praying for your downfall.

“Daddy, faster,” Is all you can manage in between kisses on Mingyu’s jawline, licking a stripe to taste the salt of his sweat and that underlying tinge of just him.

You don’t expect his free hand to come and grip the underside of your jaw, his fingers long enough to reach both sides of your cheeks. He applies just the right pressure to squeeze your cheeks and force your lips into a pucker.

It would be cute if not for the look on Mingyu’s face.

“This is a birthday gift, angel. Be good while I give it to you, hmm?” He says as he begins to pick up the pace.

In no time the pace is punishing, the only thing slowing Mingyu down is how each push of his fingers back inside of you required a stretch and each time your walls made space for him inside you, you let out a little whimper.

When Mingyu presses his thumb against your clit, adding to the already intense pleasure, you can barely keep it together. In no time you feel the telltale signs of an inevitable orgasm.

No matter the method, every single orgasm Mingyu has ever given you was mind blowing, and this would be no exception. You feel the wetness dripping down your ass before you’re comprehending what exactly has happened, having difficulty in processing the immense pleasure coursing through you, your eyes slipping shut at the feeling of cumming all over Mingyu’s fingers.

Your walls tighten around him, even as you spill into his open palm and he continues to push in and out, droplets falling to the floor beneath you and between his feet.

Mingyu’s eyes are fixed on your entrance as he keeps you filled, pleased with how stretched out you are, ready for him to just slip in.

He pulls his fingers out only to move them to cover your clit, gently rubbing, keeping you on the precipice of pleasure, not allowing you a moment to come back to Earth. You’re in that heady space only he take you.

“Eyes open, baby. Watch daddy fuck his cock into you,” Mingyu says with a light slap to your face.

He moves and lifts your other leg up, maneuvering your hands that are wrapped around him to hold yourself open, keeping you fully spread open and seated on the dressing room counter.

Mingyu grasps his cock and gives himself one, two, three pumps to ease the initial need for friction, before he taps the now leaking tip against your clit. A pearlescent drop of precum falls on the hood of your clit and you watch, helpless as he harshly swipes at it with his thumb.

You hiss at rough handling but are immediately silenced when he brings the thumb up and shoves it into your mouth. He presses down on your tongue as if to wipe the cum off his finger. 

He grabs a fistful of the hair at the nape of your neck and smashes your mouths together. You love the way even his mouth seems to hold dominance over your own. The movements, no matter how unruly, are still just the right thing to get you going once more.

“We taste so good together, huh?” He whispers after fucking your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away slightly and lolls out his tongue to let a thick wad of spit fall from his lips down to your center.

The impact of the warm liquid has your gaping hole clenching around nothing.

It pleases Mingyu so much that he forgoes all the other teasing he initially had in mind and just guides the head of his cock to sop up the spit on your pussy before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust.

The blissed out sigh that you let out set him on fire.

Gone is the idea of long, languid strokes to stoke the fire in your belly. Instead he goes with a punishing pace that has high pitched cries slipping from your mouth.

His hands find the thickness of your ass to keep you in place, his hips doing all the work of rearranging your guts. In this angle and position, he can see how the head of his cock bulges in your abdomen slightly. It if was possible, he would have gotten harder.

Having already been so sensitive from hardly being able to come down from your first orgasm, Mingyu’s actions had you reeling into your second one in no time.

“My princess deserves to come already,” Mingyu says, slightly breathless, leaning his forehead on yours “Dad wants this pussy to never let him go.”

You nod in agreement, “It's yours forever. I love you.”

It almost seems pathetic for him to cum at those words, but it's a spectacular orgasm as he pulls out until only the head of his cock is inside you before he slams his hips flush to yours and letting himself flood your pussy with his cum.

You’re delirious as he keeps you steady,  pulling out so slowly to make sure you keep every single drop of him inside of you.

“Keep it in until you get home,” He says, “I want to slip right in the second you get through the door and still feel me inside you.”

You press your lips to his once, twice, and a third one for good measure before nodding excitedly.

“It’s your gift to me. I won’t let a single drop go to waste.”

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 GUYS I JUST READ THE CUTEST FAN ACCT FROM TODAY'S MUBANK WTFFFF

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 There's a special guest at today's live performance!! After the Midas Touch recording there was a really loud and DEEP cheeer coming from backstage. The members were all looking to see who it was ijbol!!

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 Ahreum was so happy when she figured out who it was that after bowing and greeting fans she left the stage but her mic was still on!!

huhu our baby was probably so happy and giggly as she always is! the op of the fan acct thinks its Mingyu!!

thank you Mingyu for loving and taking care of our precious Ahreum! 🥹🫧🩷

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 CONFIRMED WTFFFFF 😭😭😭 Mingyu was seen leaving Music Bank today!!

SIR U R A FOOTBALLER U HAVE NO REASON TO BE AT MUSIC BANK IF NOT FOR UR IDOL GF!!

[soldierboysdoll]

M A R I L Y N

Soldier boy x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Soldier boy and you had an arrangement: no love, just pure lust and desire. These were the rules and neither of you wanted to change it, especially that he had to fake-dating with fucking Crimson Countess. Luckily you have people and places they're trust with they secrets.

WARNINGS: 18+, unprotected sex, language, smut

PLEASE BE KIND IF I MISSPELLED SOMETHING, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

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1940s America. The war may be raging overseas, but in Hollywood, it’s all about glamour, secrets, and indulgence. The Payback team is America’s sweetheart superhero squad, and Soldier Boy is their golden boy—a war hero, a heartthrob, and the man every magazine cover wants. But behind the carefully curated image, there’s a world of deception, passion, and reckless abandon that only a select few get to witness.

You are not just another pretty face in a red, white, and blue uniform. You're the co-captain of Payback—just as strong, just as deadly, and the only person who can match Soldier Boy in a fight or in bed. You have an understanding: no strings, no expectations. Just pure, unfiltered pleasure whenever you can sneak away from the cameras, the war propaganda, and the eyes of your team.

But there’s a problem: America loves a love story, and Vought has scripted one for Soldier Boy. Crimson Countess. The fucking redheaded songbird and Hollywood’s sweetheart, the woman marketed as his woman. In public, Soldier Boy has to play the perfect doting boyfriend—smiling, holding her waist at events, and whispering sweet nothings into her ear for the cameras. But behind the scenes? The only place he really wants to be is in your bed.

And the only person who knows?

Marilyn Monroe.

Marilyn is the queen of secrets, and her exclusive, after-dark parties are the perfect cover for your illicit affair. The guest list is always long, but everyone knows the rules: what happens in Marilyn’s house stays in Marilyn’s house. It’s a world of flowing champagne, golden-lit ballrooms, smoky lounges filled with jazz music, and secret rendezvous behind closed doors. It’s a world of stolen touches, whispered promises, and reckless nights that neither of them can resist.

One night, during one of Marilyn’s infamous parties, you are standing at the bar, a cigarette between your lips, dressed in a slinky satin gown that drapes over your curves just right. The room is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and bourbon, jazz humming through the air.

Across the room, Soldier Boy is leaning against a wall, whiskey in hand, watching you like a wolf tracking his prey. He’s just stepped off the stage from some Vought-sponsored radio show with Crimson Countess, where he played the perfect boyfriend, but his real desire is standing right in front of him.

"You look like you’re waiting for trouble," Soldier Boy murmurs, slipping up beside you, his voice dripping with smug confidence.

You exhaled a slow drag of smoke, tilting your head at him. "Trouble’s already here."

He smirks, fingers brushing against your wrist as he steals your cigarette and takes a slow inhale. It was one of those tricky blunts which looks exactly like a normal cigarette, but blew up your mind. His eyes stay locked on yours, a silent challenge burning between them.

"You jealous, sweetheart?" he taunts. "Saw me up there, holding her like she’s mine?"

You scoffed, swirling your drink in your glass. "Please, I know exactly where your hands would rather be."

You looked at him with an amused, but knowing smirk on your plump, red painted lips and took a sip of your martini, then put down the glass in a movement, Soldier Boy never thought he would find it that attractive. But it was graceful and sexy as hell as your slender fingers played with the stem of the glass.

"And where would at be exactly?" He murmured, his voice was velvety.

You just smirked and jumped off of the barstool. You were so close, he could smell your perfume, the one he bought for you from Paris a few months ago. It was driving him crazy, in the best ways.

"On me. Under this silky dress. Inside of me" you whispered with that honeyed voice he loved so much.

Before he could've reply, Marilyn glides by, flashing you both a knowing smirk. "Bedroom’s unlocked, darlings," she whispers before disappearing into the crowd.

That’s all the permission you needed.

The party is still roared downstairs, but in the dim glow of Marilyn’s lavish bedroom, it’s just you two. Soldier Boy presses you against the vanity, knocking over a bottle of Chanel No. 5 in the process, but neither of you cares.

His lips crashed against yours, desperate, possessive, full of weeks of pent-up frustration. His hands roamed your body like he’s trying to memorize every curve, every scar, every inch of you that isn’t his to keep.

"You drive me insane, you know that?" he growled against your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

You laughed breathlessly, tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. "Then go find your real girlfriend, Ben."

His grip tightens on your waist, his smirk dark and dangerous. "Nah. I’d rather wreck you instead."

And with that, his lips were on you again. Kissing, nipping, licking your soft skin on your throat and went lower. On your collarbone, on your chest, growls and sighs to your skin as his hands clenched around the silky material of your dress.

"This fucking dress," he growled "I want to rip down of you."

"Don't you dare, it was expensive" you murmured between soft sighs. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back as you let out soft, breathless sighs.

"Don't give a fuck, I buy you another" he murmured on your cleavage just below of the neckline.

"And how would I go home? Naked?"

"I'm sure Marilyn's gonna give you something, darlin'." He was so wrecked, fuming from his desire to take you right there.

You moaned softly as he sucked on the soft flesh of your breast.

"Asshole" you breathed out.

"You love it" he murmured back, his hands tightened around the dress, you could hear it ripping already.

"I do" you moaned "rip it." Your voice was just a low whimper.

That was all he needed. He straightened up and moved his hand to the neckline of the dress, and with one, swift motion he rip it just in the middle. The material fell down on you, like a silky robe before a heated night.

His gaze roamed over your naked body and a sly smirk appeared on him. "No panties?"

You smirked back "I was thinking forward."

He grinned "Good girl" he murmured, then his lips crashed to yours in a heated, animalistic kiss.

His fingers were already between your legs, pushed in two fingers right away. You moaned into the kiss, your body trembled but it wasn't from pain. It was pure bliss. He smiled against your mouth, kissed you feverish.

You like it like this. Your rendezvous is reckless, messy, and fueled by the knowledge that the world can never know. But in that moment, you don’t care.

"You like it don't you?" He murmured as he moved his fingers in and out with just a right amount of pressure, curling in the soft flesh.

"Shut... up..." you whined, your head fell back on the mirror above the vanity.

He chuckled as his lips trailed down on your jaws, then he pulled out his fingers make you whine in protest, but he had other plans.

He spunned you around and bent you down on the vanity. With his other hand, he pulled his already throbbing cock out of his trousers.

"I want you to watch yourself as I fuck you from behind" He hissed out as he pushed himself inside of you with a low growl.

His forehead fell on your shoulder to compose himself for a minute, then started to move in you.

Your head hunged down, your body trembling, the pleasure was too good already, then you felt his large hand on your throat as he yanked you a bit up and against his chest. He moved in hard and long thrusts, leaned his head to your ear as he looked at you through the mirror.

"Eyes on yourself, sugar" He whispered, nipped on your earlobe, then buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your soft skin.

You couldn't help but moaned and sighed and whimpered. His hand tightened around your throat and your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure. He yanked on you again.

"Eyes up, babydoll. I want you to watch the show" He murmured, thrusted harder.

The perfums and make ups trembled on the vanity, but you didn't care.

"Look at you..." He mused "So fucking hot, and all mine..."

You just whined in response, you already felt your climax rose up, you felt the familiar warm and tightness in your stomach and he felt your walls clenching around his hard dick.

"That's it baby, let yourself go... let me hear you... come for me..."

He thrusted harder and faster, his hand tightened around your throat but in just the right pressure to make you feel good.

"You're so fucking tight" He almost whined in panting. "I'm gonna make you scream my name as loud that they would hear it louder than that damn jazz. Fucking hypocrites." He hissed out as he felt himself closer to the edge too.

"I love how you fit to me, like a perfect puzzle." He nipped on your neck again as his movements getting ragged and harder with each thrust.

"Gonna make you feel good, I promise."

"You always do" you managed to whimper out "Oh God... I'm gonna–"

"That's it baby. Give it to me. Give me what I want. Scream my name."

And with that, with a loud cry of his name, you came. And he followed. Oh how he followed. Your mixed breaths and whines were downright sinful. It was pure Heaven and Hell in the same time.

His head fell down on your sweaty shoulder, put feather-light kisses as he came down from the high, panting like he just ran a marathon.

"So... who's made a wreck from who?" You smirked at him through the mirror, panting, and he couldn’t help the chuckle escaping from his lips.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman, I swear the god..." he whispered with a last kiss on your shoulder.

"You're atheist" you commented just to tease him.

He smirked against your skin "But I believe in you, and darling... God is a woman, and that's you"

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@emeraldcrs

Thanks for reading, If you want me to tag you, just let me know in the comments 🩷

You can find this fanfic as a C.AI bot too with the same name but I add a link too, and if you have requests for bots, just DM me 🥰

[thelittleliars]

Surprise

Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: fighting, being drunk, mention of homophobia, mention of deceased parents, angst with a happy end

Words: 3.5k

Summary: You wanted to surprise your girlfriend but instead you were the one that got surprised.

A/N: Here it is: the Angst with a happy ending one shot as the majority of you voted for! Btw I did not proof read it so be aware.

Flying wasn't your thing; sitting for hours in a thing that is high in the air with nothing to do but to sleep, eat, watch or read something. And airplane was a capsule of boredom to you, that was why you'd never fly unless you had to. Unfortunately you had to fly for your job since it required you to fly overseas from time to time. This time you had a 15 hour flight back home, itching to not only to see your girlfriend Natasha but also to surprise her, your supposed flight was scheduled for only three days later and when you were given the go to fly back earlier you took the chance and told her nothing about it. You hadn't seen her in weeks so you were extra excited to see her again.

The uber stopped in front of your apartment complex, as you got your things out of the trunk you thanked them for the pleasant ride and wished them a good day. You were quick to arrive at your door, the apartment was one on the top floors, before unlocking it with the your key. The smile on your face vanished when you saw Natasha standing there with three people you had never met before. Your mood became a little sour as you didn't like that your surprise didn't go as you had planned. "Who are you?" You asked confused as nobody including your girlfriend made a move to introduce each other.

They stared at you with critical eyes, sizing you up and down as if you were a criminal or some other threat. The younger woman with blonde hair spoke up first. "Her family." Your heart stilled for a second thinking of meeting her family like this wasn't great but you dismissed everything quickly because you remembered that her family was dead. "No, that can't be. Her family died when she was young." You looked confused at Nat, then back at those strangers again. When nobody responded you got a bit anxious, Natasha wouldn't have lied about that right?

The man spoke up next, bringing you out of your head of spiraling thoughts. "Who are you?" But before you could answer that question happily, the other woman gave her thoughts to the situation. "She's most likely the roommate Natasha always talked about." Roommate. You whirled your head towards your red headed lover, looking baffled at her already guilty expression, pain appeared in your heart and you swore that nothing cut you as deep as the statement along with her silence and facial expression. You pursed your lips to hide how much she hurt you, it would be too embarrassing to throw a fit in front of her family. Natasha opened her mouth but before she got to speak you jumped in. "I just had a 15 hour flight and all I wanna do is take a shower and maybe a nap afterwards. I guess I see y'all later." You said to all of them before you fetched your suitcase and disappeared into the actual guest room that the two of you had for emergencies.

In the shower you sat down and let the water fall onto you. You overthought everything you thought you knew. It was obvious that it was her family, she lied about her parent dying. Why would she do that? And if she lied about that what else did she lie about? Evidently about your relationship. The roommate Natasha constantly talked about.. That statement hurt immensely. You couldn't understand why were a roommate, not even a very good friend no, just a fucking roommate. It made you angry, especially because you loved that woman deeply and it made you wonder if she actually loved you. You also deliberate about if you could ever forgive her about this betrayal.

After the long shower, your phone started ringing the second your t-shirt hit you body. It was strange for someone to call you at this hour but when you saw it was your friend Wanda you answered without a question. You couldn't get a hello out because she was talking fast. "Open your door, there's a surprise for you!" The excitement in her voice was refreshing after all the work talk you had done overseas for days. "Wands, I don't like surprises."

"I know and I'm sorry to do this to you but this one's really worth it. Please believe me and don't hang up!" You tried to put all the faith you had left in her and walked out of the guest room as held your phone against your ear. "I won't hang up don't worry." While you passed by the open kitchen-living room to get to the door, you felt the red head's and her family's intense eyes on you. You ignore them as you opened the door and there she stood, the great Wanda Maximoff with some tickets in her hands. She practically shoved them into your hands. Only then did you hang up the phone and looked at what the tickets were. Your eyes widen in shock before you threw yourself at Wanda, hugging her happily. Natasha jealously was seething so she decided to speak. "What is your ex doing here?"

You turned around smiling at her but not as bright as you had been a second before, you still waved the tickets with joy telling her what the tickets were for. "She got me tickets for a sold out Hayley Kiyoko show!!" Natasha knew how much that meant for you since you had never seen her live even though you had tickets for three concerts at one point. You hated it so much that your job always came in between the dates, making you sell your concert tickets of the singer that was your first crush and gay awakening. This whole situation gave Natasha another pang of jealousy, she should have been the one giving you the tickets, not your damn ex.

"The lesbian Jesus?" The blonde woman whose name you still don't know asked. You nodded and saw her face breaking into a proud expression. "Since when do you know that?" Natasha asked her sister in almost an insulting tone. "Kate Bishop, where else?" After Nat narrowed her eyes the blonde explained further with a shrug. "She told me that I need to widen my horizon in pop culture." At that you turned your attention back to Wanda, minding your own business while picking up your conversation again. "I- I'm.. thank you for the tickets Wands. I truly don't know how to thank you." She smiled at your overwhelmed but giddy state. "You could take me with you?" She joked as she also pointed to the tickets. You agreed to her idea incredibly fast, maybe a bit too fast considering that you had a girlfriend you usually asked and took with you to concerts. But in that split of a moment you didn't give a shit about asking her to go with you, going with your ex sounded way better. "It - it's tomorrow already. Wait, hold on. How'd you even know that I'd be back by then?"

"Oh yeah about that.. I might have talked with Josh." She smiled sheepishly. Josh was a mutual friend but also your co-worker. But you'd never have thought that Josh would talk about your (early) return. Especially since you told him you wanted to surprise everyone. "Are you lovebirds actually coming in or stay in the doorway all night?" Alexei teased you both, you didn't how how to feel about that. You were still together with his daughter and him teasing or shipping you with your ex was beyond something you thought you'd experience. The frown on Natasha face was something you didn't miss and you actually had to bite your tongue before saying something you'd regret. To your luck, because you knew biting your tongue wouldn't help for long, your lover pipped in. "They are ex-girlfriends and not lovebirds." She stated hard. Her father continued to reason with his daughter. "Doesn't have to mean anything Tasha bear. How often did your mother and I break up and got back together hmm?"

You ignored their conversation once again, turning to the red head that stood still in the doorway you told her to wait for you. "Let me switch pants and then we go get a drink somewhere yeah? That way we can catch up and they can continue having family time uninterrupted." Natasha wanted to interject, deny you going out with Wanda when she desperately wanted to explain herself but she feared that stopping you would dig her grave with you only deeper so she let you go. When you were about to leave, Yelena and Alexei teased you both a last time. You felt a bit bad for Natasha but it all were also a part of consequences of her actions. "Don't come home too late." Was the only thing she told you. You still heard Yelena's such a mom and Alexei's don't be a cockblocker Natasha through the door.

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You were passed out in Wanda's arms as she carried you bridal style towards your apartment. It wasn't planned that you drank this much alcohol, but once you got a taste of it you just couldn't stop, it numbed your feelings and problems that you badly wanted to forget. Natasha was at the door quick, relieved when she saw you in Wanda's arms, she lead you both towards your bedroom watching how your ex put you on the bed gently.

"Thank you for bringing her home." She commented. The other woman only nodded before leaving fairly quickly, not wanting to be there in case you woke up which she knew was unlikely but didn't want it risk it anyways. Hungover you was something she did not want to witness ever again.

The next morning was rather midday by the time you woke up. You walked into the bathroom first, quickly peeing and splashing some water on your face before wandering to the kitchen, there you saw Natasha sitting at her kitchen counter with a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other hand. "Morning." You hummed grumpily, acknowledging her without actually talking to her. She huffed before she tried to talk to you again. "Y/N I-" Natasha started but you cut her off immediately. "I don't wanna talk."

"But I really-" Her next attempt to talk got quickly cut off by you again. "I SAID I DONT WANT TO TALK NATASHA!" You didn't yell, you simply rose your voice a bit to get your point across. She shut up afterwards. "Gosh just give me space before you ruin my day. I still have a concert to attend to." Your words and the situation cut her deep, it hurt to know this side of you - that she was the reason for bringing this out of you and inflicting (you) pain. She never wanted any of this.

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After the incredible amazing concert you dragged Wanda into a bar to get some well deserved fries and drinks. It didn't last long until you spilled your relationship problems and some evil thoughts you had in your head. The cruelest one was to text Nat asking her if she'd give you permission to kiss another girl during Hayley's performance of Girls Like Girls. You'd never cheat but the itch to get back at her in some way for betraying you was big.

"I know you want to hurt Natasha back a bit because of what she did but is it really worth it? Wouldn't that just truly ruin your relationship?" Wanda was concerned about your state of mind and what you might would do. She knew how rash you were in doing something when you got hurt by someone close to you. "It's hardly a relationship if it's build on lies." You stated without any emotion in your voice and expression. This only showed her that her worries were valid. "Maybe she had a good reason for it." The red head tried so hard to see the positive but of course with your mood, nothing was getting to you.

"I can't think of a single good reason of why she'd lie about her parents passing. I also came up short when I thought of a reason of her hiding our relationship. Like I'd have understood if it were the same situation as it was in our relationship, when you were a baby gay with parents who oftentimes said homophobic remarks and you being afraid to come out. But her father and sister teased us lovebirds and it seemed very genuine, they weren't homophobic." At the mention of Wanda's past, she felt the need to voice her thoughts. "I still feel like they stopped with the remarks after catching Pietro watching gay porn." You gave her a tiny sad smile. "Well either way, at least you had the decency to tell your family that we were not only very good but also very close friends. I'm just a roommate to them."

"I'm sorry." She said it genuine, without any pity or whatsoever. You nodded but also sighed at her apology. "Not your fault Wanda. Don't apologize for something that's out of reach." It was quiet between the two of you for a long moment, eating and drinking to make it less awkward before you asked her if you could crash at her place. "Of course, you're always welcome." Later, right before you went to sleep, you texted your girlfriend that you'd stay at Wanda's for the night.

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When you got home the next day, Natasha was nowhere to be found, it gave you enough time to ponder if you should simply break up with her and get all your things with you, it would have been a coward move on your part and you were already cowardly enough by staging away from her the night before. You quickly changed into a new set of clothes the grabbing your headphones and went into the kitchen, getting out ingredients from the cabinets to bake something, you still needed to distract yourself before facing Natasha.

The second she entered the apartment and heard movements she knew were only yours, she stopped dead in her tracks as she wasn't expecting you to the apartment yet. She thought that you were staying at Wanda's for a while longer but since you weren't she took the chance to finally talk to you and explain herself. You were startled by the tap on your shoulder, you hadn't heard her come back with the headphones on yours ears blasting angry rock-metal music. Pausing the music and taking the headphones from your ears, you turned around to face Natasha, she had messy hair with dark circles and bags underneath her eyes. It told you that she had a sleepless night.

"I don't want to talk." You told her simply because it irritated you that she disrupted your baking time. She groaned in frustration. "But I need to talk. Y/N I want to fix my mistakes, I want to fix us." She was desperate, you heard it in her voice, but that still didn't change your mind. "Maybe the magnitude of your mistakes are too big to fix." The words you said left her stunned. With the little courage she had left she asked you the important question. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet." It came out weak, nearly matching the weak tone of the question Natasha asked second before. A bit of relieve flooded her system but she was still tense m, fearing your answer to her next question. "What's holding you back?" You weren't sure if you wanted to let her know your reasons but you ended up opening anyways. "My gut and my trust in you."

The silence that followed was nearly deafening, the redheaded woman simply was at loss of words because it felt wrong for you to still have trust in her. "I haven't shattered your trust yet?"

"Hard to believe right? Despite all your lies I still trust you.. even if it's on a thin thread." There was another couple of minutes of silence before she finally could apologize without you cutting her off. "Then let me apologize because I really have to apologize for how the other day went down. I'm sorry for lying about my parents and that I lied to them about our relationship. I didn't mean to hurt you but I did and now I have to own it up." She started before moving to sit down on a chair. "It's true that my parents died at a young age. Who you saw was my foster family, we didn't always get along which resulted in me distancing myself from them for a decade. It wasn't until we were a year deep into a relationship that we started to have contact again."

"But why lie to them about us? Your father and sister seemed pretty open about homosexuals." You asked, still confused about certain things that needed to be cleared up.

"My plan was to ease them in telling how I'm not only queer but more so a lesbian. Last time I really knew them they were homophobic so I was surprised by their remarks. I hadn't met them in person for so long, I guess they changed a lot during that time." You took your hands in hers. It was a small gesture of you supporting her in quietness. "I'm sorry detka. I should have told you a long time ago about my foster family. And also that I told them you were my roommate."

"I just don't get it. Why tell them we're roommates and not friends?" It was the question that plagued your mind. She bit her lips then shaking her head and looking everywhere but at you. "It wouldn't have been believable. I always ruined all my friendships." You squeezed her hands in hope she'd look at you again and she did even if it was only for a few seconds. "Is there anything else you lied about?"

Her eyes rose to yours, this time you could see her bare soul laying out for you. She removed her hands from yours before answered honest. "Uhh.. my job?" It was barely a second that passed by before you shrieked out her full name. "Natalia Alianovna Romanova!" She squeezed her eyes shut as her name fell from your lips like you called her satan, then she fumbled with her hands until they found yours again. With an honest look in her eyes she apologizes again. "Y/N I'm really sorry okay."

"Sorry doesn't make it better! Natasha you do realize how fucked up this is right? Especially because we talk about work at dinner every other day. Gosh." You felt sick to your stomach when you thought back at the countless of conversations you had. "If-if you're not a secretary then what exactly do you do?"

"I'm actually a SHIELD agent." She leaned closer to you when she noticed your lack of response. When you did reply it made Natasha even more nervous, anxious even, she feared that you decide to break up with her right then and there. "A SHIELD agent?" You repeated calmly, a bit too calm for your girlfriend's liking, a calm person is always one to fear during a fight, they most likely are already done with everything. "A SHIELD agent." Natasha confirmed.

"Were you going to tell me?"

"At some point." You nodded then removed your hands from hers all while you were telling her you needed to go back to baking, you turned around finished your cupcakes. Natasha stood there awkwardly, not knowing what else to tell you or where to go. When the first batch of cupcakes were done you held one in between your fingers, you walked straight up to the redhead with no expression on your face, her heart pounded so wildly that it felt like she was going to die. "As much as I hate you right now, I'm still completely and utterly in love with you." You offered her the cupcake that she gladly accepted with a small smile. "I might be an idiot for even attempting to forgive you but I can honestly see us having a great and long future together."

"I want that. The long and great future with you, I mean." She looked down and smiled shyly

"Good. But it can only happen if you won't lie to me anymore Nat. I'd rather be hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie."

"Okay."

"Okay?" She nodded. "Good. Now come here and give me a kiss."

"Can I eat my cupcake first?" She asked with a twinkle in her eyes. You shook your heard, told her 'no' before you grabbed her head and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

[marasmadness]

Would you be interested in doing a one shot with jealous/possessive Elle Greenaway and Jennifer Jareau fighting over f!reader? They compete over her and eventually f!reader just gets fed up and is like, both is good :)

PUSH AND PULL

Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader x Elle Greenaway

CW: Jealousy, smut, threesome, gay confusion (from about everyone except Elle), face sitting, strap-ons, slight praise & a little bit of fluff.

WC: 3315

~

“Tilt your head up,” JJ instructed, cupping your chin. You closed your eyes as she painted a black stripe of eyeliner across your eyelid. You were sitting on the floor of her living room with makeup sprawled across the entirety of her coffee table after she requested that you let her do your makeup before going out tonight.

The rest of the team would be coming as well, but all of them knew that you and JJ had been more closely connected than the rest of them. Shortly after you transferred to the BAU, JJ became your best friend. The two of you were inseparable. She had invited you over early to hang out at her place before you met everyone else at the restaurant. Tonight held more anticipation than most team gatherings: There would be another guest joining you for dinner, a returning agent.

According to JJ, Elle had been an agent quite a few years ago. She was talented, but cases happened and got to her, ultimately ending in her resignation. JJ had seemed somewhat close to her, even with the short amount of time they had spent together. She thought Elle might’ve gone on to be a lawyer, but she wasn’t positive. They hadn’t spoken in a while. From the team's stories, the woman sounded incredibly fascinating, and you were eager to meet her.

The two of you arrived just on time to find Hotch with Rossi already at a table and Penelope and Emily right behind you. Morgan had offered to pick Elle up from the hotel she was staying at while in town. A waitress appeared with waters just as they walked in. Cheers and greetings rose around the table. Morgan raised his ends dramatically, as if the excitement were directed at him and not the stunning woman to his left.

She was still in a red button-down and blazer. The click of her heeled boots turned the heads of their table in her direction as she entered. Her hair was a rosewood brown, resting in waves on her shoulders. Her deep brown eyes and sharp cheekbones that sloped down to her pursed lips produced an air of intimidation. Her face broke out into a smile, and she circled the table with hugs and greetings. You, Rossi, and Emily were the three unfamiliar to her, but she greeted you warmly. She brushed her hand along her shoulder before choosing the seat directly across from you, sending Morgan to the opposite end.

Crossing her arms, JJ leaned on the table in Elle’s direction. "So, what have you been up to? I told y/n I vaguely remember plans for law school, but we haven’t heard from you in forever.”

Elle nodded, swirling the ice in her drink. "I did! I graduated five years ago and then joined a firm started by another ex-FBI agent. It's been rewarding. I miss you guys, but this is a better fit for me.” Her demeanor was admirably confident as she elaborated on a few of her most memorable cases, including the case that returned her to near Quantico

JJ kept asking the questions, but Elle’s eyes kept darting over to land on you. Eventually, once JJ had finished the typical catch-up small talk, Elle turned her attention to you. "Sorry, I came in a bit of a flurry, and you never got to introduce yourself. I know Emily took my place, so how’d you end up at the BAU?"Her questions were simple, but the way her attention was directly and entirely on you made your face flush for some unknown reason. Her chin was in her palm, leaning her elbow on the table as she hung on to your every word.

"Well, JJ was on a case overseas. I took her place. Eventually she returned when Emily returned, but I ended up sticking around anyway. I guess I made a good enough impression.” You shrugged your shoulders, sharing a brief smile with JJ.

"Nobody wanted to get rid of her,” she teased, leaning in toward the table as she whispered.

Elle laughed softly with the two of you. "I can see why,’ she said smoothly. Your lips parted in soft surprise from the sudden and effortless compliment. Elle’s lips just curled into a quick smirk before she began twisting the silver rings decorating her hands.

JJ noticed your frozen stare and brought her hand down on top of your knee, rubbing it lightly. Morgan and Emily became rowdy as usual, attracting the attention of everyone at the table. Laughter filled the booth in the corner as compliments and jabs were thrown out of mouths all in one statement. Things settled down, only slightly, when the food arrived. A few nonchalant conversations continued, but it was mostly the scrape of forks against plates. Everybody was starving. The drinks kept coming throughout the night, and everybody’s inhibitions fell to the floor. Penelope had dragged an extra chair around to sit by Morgan and Emily. Rossi and Hotch had completely left the table, engaged in a conversation with the band, who were currently taking a break. With empty space in the booth, Elle took the opportunity to slide in next to you.

Both Elle and JJ were leaning forward slightly. "So, Elle, is there anyone new, a boyfriend or girlfriend?”

Elle’s eyes darted to you for the briefest moment. Clasping her hands in her lap, she answered the question pointedly before twisting the conversation back to JJ. "No, nothing at the moment, but if I’m interested in someone, I let them know. I think it’s silly to waste your chance with someone out of fear. And what about you? Did anything ever come from that thing with-” she froze, trying to retrieve his name. "Oh, Will!”

JJ’s cheek hollowed in with distaste from old memories, and having to admit that things hadn’t worked out. "No, that ended a while ago; it just wasn’t a good match."

The fuse of a growing tension had been lit, but you had yet to notice the tight lips and slight eyerolls exchanged between them. You hadn’t been looking for tension from them in the first place; JJ had mentioned she loved Elle when she was at the BAU and had missed her.

Elle frequently sought you out through the night, constantly starting conversations. "Oh, hang on, your necklace is twisted.” She leaned toward you, her hands brushed against your neck as you adjusted the thin gold chains hanging from your neck. You froze as her hand lingered lightly against your skin, and you could smell hints of her deep cherry perfume from your close proximity.

She only pulled away when JJ’s hand clamped down on your shoulder. "Hey, run to the restroom with me?” You were up and out of your seat with the tug of her hand before you nodded. Leaning on the sink, you frowned, watching JJ become obsessive over every inch of her appearance, something she only did when she was nervous.

"Are you okay? You seem a little on edge tonight."

Her face cracked into a small smile. "Yeah, I’m okay, just feeling a bit off. You notice everything.” Her smile turned into a real one, and she wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for checking in on me.”

Elle slid back against the seat so you could slide back into the booth when you returned to the table. As you squeeze by with your hands braced on the table, you feel Elle’s hands drift up to your lower back, sending a flurry of butterflies up in your stomach. Her hands fell back into her lap as you sat down, but you caught a small smirk on her face.

Eventually the waiter started to linger around the table. You got the hint and started passing around the bills. The team walked out in a huddle, shielded from the cold, dropping everyone off at the cars. Once you reached Emily’s car, you were left alone with JJ and Elle. Morgan and Penelope had gotten distracted, lingering in the entryway. "Here, we can take you home,” you suggested without hesitation. Pulling open the door, you stepped back, allowing Elle to climb into the back seat.

"Thanks, love,” she said, squeezing your arm that she was still clinging to.

JJ became excessively touchy for the rest of the car ride. Her hand rested on your thigh permanently, and you slowly rubbed her hand up and down your leg at every stoplight. Elle seemed perfectly content in the back, focused on her text messages, while JJ started talking about what the two of you might do this weekend or breezily joining a conversation when she found a smooth opening. The fact that she wasn’t as quick to fall into JJ’s jealous state was irritating your best friend. She knew you could be quickly defensive at times, even when it was silly, but her head just wouldn't let it go when it came to you. She had always held your dating partners to higher standards than her other friends, even though very few of them ever became serious. Contrary to when she first joined the BAU as the teams communications liaison, she enjoyed time spent with you individually much more than team gatherings.

As you approached the hotel, Elle leaned forward by your shoulder, guiding you toward the parking lot of the building she was staying in. While gathering up her stuff, she stopped with her hand on the handle. "Do you guys want to come in for a moment? The best I can offer you is coffee and vending machine snacks, but I’d like to get to know you more in a quiet setting.”

“Sure!”

“ Actual-” JJ stopped when she heard the excitement in your voice and decided to remain quiet with difficulty. She took a deep breath, got out, and jogged to catch up to you and Elle, who was waiting with the door held open.

The elevator ride up was awkward to say the least. Nobody talked or barely breathed, which actually made it twice as unbearable. You were stuck between wanting to spend time with your best friend and comforting newcomers and also feeling stuck between the tension that had followed the three of you around all night but not being able to figure out its cause.

"The coffee station is down the hall if anybody wants some." Elle trailed off as she dug through her purse for the hotel’s key card.

"I can go grab three,”you offered.

"Thank you so much; it’s three rooms down on the right."

You shuffled down the mall to pour up cups for the three of you while Elle let JJ inside. Quickly pressing on three lids, you cautiously headed back down the hall. Elle’s door was still cracked open a bit, and you could hear their voices from inside.

You were ready to walk right in, but something about their tone stopped you. The jealousy and tight-lipped questions from the rest of the night seemed to have disappeared, and they were talking softly like old friends again.

"How long have you known?"

You recognized Elle’s voice as the slightly lower one and felt bad for eavesdropping, but your curiosity got the better of you. Known what? JJ told you everything, or at least that’s what you assumed.

You heard JJ sigh, and she took a moment to reply. You imagined her resting her head against her hand, like she did whenever she anxiously planned out her answer. "I honestly didn’t know until tonight. I thought I just liked her as a friend, but when the possibility of her being with someone else came up, I realized that I wanted her.”

You heard Elle release a heavy breath. Her voice became quieter, as if she had moved farther away from the door. "You have to tell her, Jay. You’ve been the closest of friends for, like, 8 years now?”

“I hate those kinds of conversations. They’re also so awkward, and I’m not good at expressing my feelings. And how would I even know if we have the attraction and chemistry aspect, not just a romantic connection?

Elle chuckled. "Sex, JJ, that would be the answer.

"Ugh, but sex with someone who I called a friend all of ten minutes before has always been awkward. It always seems restrained or calculated. I would just want to see if we could... Have fun, you know? I can’t believe I’m telling you all of this. You still have that effect on people.

"What, the one that makes people want to confess to a crush on their best friend and sex life? I think that’s just you babes.” High-pitched laughter from both of them blended together.

"If you want something new and exciting, then initiate something new and exciting. I think it would be a terrible mistake to pass up the possibility of something working out between you. I mean, have you seen her?

There was a long silence and then an exchange of gasps between them that made you think they might be having a conversation with their eyes.

“No, are you serious?”

You began to only be able to hear clips of the conversation. The rest was only in barely audible whispers that you were unable to discern.

"I mean, only if you’re interested. No strings, of course; I’ll be leaving. I do happen to be great at loosening people up, and I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy it. I also completely understand if your answer is no, jealousy is complicated."

Someone began approaching you from the other end of the hotel hallway, and you didn’t want to be caught seemingly eavesdropping on a hotel guest's conversation. Slipping inside, you shut the door behind you loud enough to announce your return.

"Hey darling, you can just set them on the counter over there.” Elle called out from her spot, sprawled out on the corner of her couch. JJ sat on the other end. Neither of their faces hid the effects of their conversation well, but while Elle’s was a deepening sense of confidence, JJ’s was a spreading blush and eyes darting back and forth. "Was the machine slow again? You took a minute."

You shifted your weight back and forth on the heels of your feet as you debated telling them you had overheard. Your eyes darted to the hotel door that had been propped open, possibly purposefully. Maybe you were reading into it, but you had seen the caution and paranoia that takes over FBI agents even in their personal lives. Elle should be no exception, and wouldn’t live hotel doors in the center of the city propped open. “ I um overheard snippets of your conversation and it sounded serious, so I decided I’d wait outside until you were finished.

Elle smiled softly, glancing at JJ to watch her expression just as you were. She went through every emotion in about twenty seconds. Her face grew pale with the natural instinct of being overheard, but then she almost looked more relieved. Possibly one less awkward conversation out of the way, she didn’t have to hide it like a secret from you any longer, and the ball was now in your court.

"We've been friends for years JJ. I think you already know what my response will be. I’m open to it, all of it.” The words rolled off your tongue as you tilted your head, and both women straightened up with attention.

"God,” Elle chuckled under her breath, sipping at the drink you handed her.

You smirked, tilting your head toward the bedroom a few steps away, and reveled at the way JJ’s eyes darkened with desire. Both women were silently up and behind you with soft footsteps as you climbed on the bed. They stood on the edge while you kneeled into the mattress.

Elle pulled off JJ's jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Goosebumps rose along the back of the blonde’s neck. You reached forward and tugged her closer to you by her belt, causing her breath to hiccup. You undid her belt painfully slowly while she tangled her hands in your hair. Elle was slightly turned away, undressing in front of the nightstand. Your heartbeat fluttered at the sight of a harness hanging from her hips. JJ tugged on your hair, sending sparks through your scalp. "Let me eat you out baby,” you begged, dragging your nails down her thighs with a cheshire grin.

“Sit on her face,” Elle challenged as she orchestrated your positions all while climbing up in between your legs.

JJ seemed hesitant to have her weight balanced above your mouth and gripped the headboard harshly. With gentle reassurance, you guide her downwards until she gasped at the contact of your lips brushing against her cunt. Elle spurred you on, dragging her red faux cock along your slick folds. Your hands grabbed at JJ’s ass, enjoying the soft pants that fell from her lips as your tongue explored her. Flicking her clit sent quivers through her thighs, and she moved her hands down to your chest, kneading your breasts.

It didn’t take you long to realize Elle was reacting along with you. Every time your lips closed around JJ’s clit, stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves, Elle thrust into you with a bruising grip on your hips. Each of your movements drew JJ and consequently, yourself closer to an orgasm.

Elle’s pace suddenly quickened, causing you to moan. JJ cried out from the vibrations, digging red crescents into your skin. "Fuck,” she panted. "You're doing so good baby,” she praised, wiping the mix of juices from the corner of your mouth. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she hollowed out her cheeks as she sucked them clean. Returning your mouth to her cunt with fresh motivation, you ran your tongue along her slit, and her thighs clenched over your ears. All sound became muted by the sound of blood rushing in your head and JJ’s murmuring off soft praises as she ran her fingers over all of your body that she could reach.

You felt your legs stretch as Elle rested your heels on her shoulders. The new angle allowed her to pound in with you at a breathtaking new angle. Just as the rough movement of her hips rocking against yours was about to transform into pain, a smooth, ecstatic feeling left your lungs traveling through your limbs with a hazy sensation.

JJ elicited a combination of moans and satisfied whimpers as her body tensed and her cum coated your lips with a trembling orgasm. Her toned thighs relaxed from alongside your head and she ran her thumbs down your flushed cheeks. When she leaned backwards, Elle supported her easily, rubbing her hands up and down JJ’s legs from behind her.

Untangling yourselves, the three of you collapsed into the sheets with heartbeats pounding out of your chests and the quick rise and fall of your lungs. After a moment, JJ rolled over, tucking her arm around your waist. Lifting her head, she peered over your head to Elle, who was smiling at JJ’s soft act of affection from across the bed.

Your eyes were fluttering in and out, not focused enough to read their lips as they mouthed back and forth to each other. Elle, on the other hand, smirked at JJ’s exaggerated mouth shapes to convey an "Oh my god.”

Elle tipped her head with her everlasting confidence, responding with a silent, "You're welcome, that was…” She was unable to string her words together for the first time all night. JJ grinned adoringly as she rested her head on the pillow beside yours, curling her chin into your neck. Your eyelids finally sank completely closed upon the touch of her warm embrace.

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — EPILOGUE 3, begin again

jo yuri and choi yena's wedding.

WARNINGS ; implied depression, mentions of overworking, slightly suggestive, mentions of broken homes (2.4k)

y/n wished that it was her up on that altar with wonyoung.

the hues of white and gold twinkled against the sunlight, the heat of the californian sun blinding everyone in the venue. yuri's dress, a hanbok beautifully accentuated with gold, ruffled in the wind, yena standing across from her soon-to-be wife with tears in her eyes.

y/n couldn't focus as they began to open their letters, the couple's vows written in great length (and the last time y/n asked yuri, she had almost two pages).

all she saw was jang wonyoung, standing across from her with a soft smile, watching the couple exchange their speeches.

the wonyoung she knew was still there, bits and pieces of the shy, caring girl she fell in love with years ago making herself known through each smile and laugh. her smile was still angelic, but gone was the burden of her last name. she walked lighter, the shackles of expectations now released from her .

she wasn't jang wonyoung, the daughter of a politician. she wasn't jang wonyoung, the promising volleyball player and the hope of suma, nor was she 'victory' jang, yoo 'the ace of korea' jimin's shadow.

she was wonyoung, just wonyoung.

and somehow, despite the years apart, wonyoung looked as beautiful as ever. she seemed much older, wiser, yet it was all the same. with her hair slightly shorter, y/n could tell she had gained some weight in her cheeks. her eyes, still doe-like, never seemed brighter, and from where she stood, y/n could see someone familiar.

she didn't know why, but y/n wanted to fall in love with this wonyoung, just like she she fell in love with her wonyoung.

y/n's eyes tore away from her ex, the entirety of the venue cheering as yena and yuri kissed.

she clapped half-heartedly, her mind and eyes wandering to the tall girl standing on the other side.

she was happy for the two, knowing how hard it must've been for them. y/n knew about their rough patch and the long-distance relationship they had during yena's overseas training. she admired them honestly, the way they pushed through it.

y/n wanted to be like them, so sure they'd be better for the other person.

she glanced at wonyoung, their eyes meeting.

it was pathetic, honestly. she was still hung up on her ex from college despite graduating so long ago. even through her multiple counselling and therapy sessions, she couldn't let go of it.

she did all the steps. she explored her options, dating around but nothing truly sticking. she took care of herself, both mentally and physically. she focused on her career, finally a well known actress.

but it always ended with wonyoung in her heart, no matter how much her mind wanted it to stop.

yuri and yena walked down the aisle, and beside her, jiwon and minju had already begun to cry.

(she was sure after their toasts later, jiwon would sob a river.)

it was bittersweet, knowing that when she was young, she had always dreamed that she and her wonyoung would be walking down in a similar fashion, somewhere in france.

wiping a stray tear on her cheek, y/n smiled. they followed suit with the now-wedded couple, cheers erupting as flowers littered the hot air.

y/n looked forward at the couple.

wonyoung didn't.

the after-party started right after aeri's toast.

they had moved to a much bigger, more ambient venue once the ceremony had ended. it was a couple minutes away from the vineyard, yet it was enough to fill the entirety of the one hundred guests and the couple's requests.

wonyoung knew coming in that there would be a huge bar with a plethora of fine wines and liquor. yena had asked her months ago about the most expensive services money could buy. beside it, a photo booth with yena and yuri's cardboard cutouts stood. tables littered the floor, the front designated for the two brides. in the center was the dance floor, a huge, rave-like stage sat in the middle.

she was surprised that the two didn't bother to buy a disco ball while they were at it.

"yeah," yujin hiccuped, raising a glass of champagne in her hand. she watched as yena messily made out with her now-wife in the middle of the dance floor. "that's my friend!"

wonyoung smiled. part of her wished rei could've come to humble yujin a tad, but things were already hard on her with the mention of jiwon. if she were to see the kim, fully dressed up, she was sure to have a mental breakdown.

gaeul sat yujin down, the taller girl leaning on her fiancée.

"is yujin-unnie drunk already?"

her eyes wandered for a moment, settling on the actress who constantly invaded her mind.

unlike wonyoung who was mostly known for her brand, l/n y/n was a name you heard everywhere. her face was on billboards, her smile on screens. everywhere she looked, everything she heard was y/n, or at least adjacent to her.

it hurt for a while, seeing the girl you loved everywhere but not hearing from her. wonyoung had waited months for a text back, for a call.

nothing came, and it was enough for wonyoung to know that y/n was done with her.

but the years of drowning herself in horrible music, expensive wine, and using work as a distraction paid off. VKY took off, and the bigger it got, the worse and worse her mind became.

the first few months of success felt like a failure.

"she was drunk during the ceremony, actually." gaeul clarified, ignoring the sulking girl beside her.

wonyoung was thankful for them, dragging her away from her desk and forcing her to face everything she worked so hard to push away. gaeul, rei and yujin urged her to go get help, and despite her parents raising hell to prevent wonyoung, she did.

she hated taking those stupid pills though.

"i was not!" yujin sulked, clinging onto gaeul like saran wrap. "i was tipsy."

wonyoung glanced once more at her ex, y/n smiling at some joke yuri had made.

she got over it, the ghosting. it took a year or two (or three), but she did. she cried, she drank, she tried to forget. wonyoung even journaled, her baby blue leather book filled with tears and pain.

still, she could never get over y/n.

it was by accident. wonyoung had found out when she was going through her contacts with yujin, the two talking about other notable people to model for her newest collection. yujin, always making sure never forgot, mentioned the actress. out of curiosity, she checked, only to realize that her number was wrong.

and then she panicked even further.

('wrong number.' she had double-checked with jiwon.)

"baby," yujin whined, her eyes watery. "i wanna dance."

the olympian tugged on her fiancée, huffing at gaeul's sluggish movements. yujin's emotions always got amplified tenfold when she drank, and years later, it was still the same.

"i'm gonna go with her." gaeul grinned, gathering her purse as yujin tugged harder. "she'll start telling people we're married if i don't."

"we are!"

"we are not." gaeul's voice blended into the background, finally giving into yujin's request. "our wedding is next year, yujinnie."

the music continued to blast around them, wonyoung watching as they walked into the surprisingly active crowd (but what did she expect from yena and yuri's friends?). their figures blurred into the horde, leaving wonyoung alone at the table.

she looked at her glass, dripping as the cold mingled with the hotter air.

it was lonely, being twenty-six years old and watching your friends get married. she achieved success, all the things her father was sure she would never reach. but not once was she date. she didn't want to date anyone, and when she did, it wasn't her.

it wasn't y/n.

wonyoung felt like she was back in that stupid bathtub, drinking some wine she grabbed from the dollar store, and playing some music that someone probably dedicated to their ex. her eighteen-year-old self would probably sit beside her, crying in her arms. she'd probably even throw up on the ta-

"hey."

l/n y/n.

familiar yet different, everything and nothing, hers but no ones.

"hi." wonyoung smiled, her grin soft but her heart hammering.

y/n's nerves crackled in the dim light, the sun setting behind her. for years, she had dreamt about this, pathetically so.

"can i sit here?"

the designer nodded. "go ahead."

the decorated chair scraped the floor lightly, y/n taking place on it. she was close enough to feel, the heat of her skin permeating onto wonyoung's, their knees nearly touching. wonyoung strained her ears, hyper-aware of every move, every breath, everything that was y/n.

she was over the hurt, but wonyoung would never be over y/n.

"congrats, by the way."

wonyoung glanced at the shorter girl's hands, watching as she rubbed her knuckles. "on what?"

"on your brand." y/n whispered, her words coming out slightly forced and awkward. "i remember you always liked stuff like that."

she always tried to hide it, but y/n remembered freshman year, and the little pastel blue notebook wonyoung would hide in her nightstand.

"i did." wonyoung fought the urge to look up, to steal a glance, afraid that this was just another dream. "i just never had the time to."

fear always ruled jang wonyoung.

the fear of imperfection, of loss and pain. it lingered in the halls of the jang household, long before wonyoung was born. it was a birthright that she had no say in, one acquired through her father's actions and her mother's words.

wonyoung wasn't scared anymore.

the taller girl's eyes met with y/n's, a soft sigh escaping her mouth. y/n was way more beautiful than she remembered, her cat-like eyes and her mole pairing with her smile.

"how's hyunseo?"

"she's good." wonyoung closed her eyes, letting out another breath as she relaxed. "we visited hannah's grave a couple weeks back."

y/n had never heard of hannah, her name a foreign word to the actress. she tried to wrack her mind for any memories, but every single one came out empty.

"hannah?" y/n sighed softly. "who's hannah?"

wonyoung stared at her, her eyes softening. it felt so freeing, finally being able to say her name. "hannah was someone who meant a lot to me."

even after years, a near decade, y/n could still read the bits and pieces of wonyoung. how she'd look away, contemplating on telling more. how the girl take a sip of water, trying her best to calm down.

wonyoung was still so similar to the girl she met, the girl she loved, and the girl she let go.

"why didn't you tell me that you were the deleted number?" her mouth moved before she could process her words.

"huh?" wonyoung froze, and from the corner of her eye, she could see the crowd getting larger and larger. "oh, um, i didn't think it mattered anymore."

if wonyoung was eighty percent sure she let go, then she was sure y/n definitely did.

and before, as soon as those words left wonyoung's mouth, y/n would already be in hysterics. her heart would be ripped in two, and she'd go silent, trying her best to figure out what she did wrong.

"it mattered to me." it felt like the world lifted off her shoulders. "you should've said something."

their eyes met once more.

"i panicked." wonyoung's voice was sheepish, a small dust of red coating her face. "it was stupid of me, i know. i just..."

y/n's fingers twitched, her mind itching to touch her wonyoung again, to figure out who was in there.

"an old habit, i'm guessing?"

she'd love any version of wonyoung, whether it was hers or not.

"a very old habit."

the air danced around them as the night continued, the smell of booze multiplying with each minute. neither moved from their spot, worried that this was the last time - the last chance - they'd get to see each other. so the two sat, stealing glances and people-watching, content with whatever was going to happen next, whether it be good or bad.

a soft whisper traveled into wonyoung's ears, and if she hadn't spent the past eight years yearning for the sound, she might have missed it.

"i'm better now, wonnie."

wonyoung loved that nickname more than life itself. "sorry?"

"my promise." a smile flickered onto the actress's face, and wonyoung found herself afraid of losing her again. "i'm better now."

old habits die hard, but time marched forward. wonyoung knew that they changed, for better or for worse. she knew that no matter what, in sickness and in health, she'd love y/n. they weren't the same two naive girls who were hurting, and even though glimpses of them flashed through, wonyoung was willing.

y/n held her hand, and everything fell into place.

"thank you..." wonyoung could barely hold her tears back. "for keeping your promise."

"anything for you, wonnie."

y/n squeezed her hand, and the room fell silent. wonyoung felt like she was floating. she wasn't sure where she was gonna land, if it was gonna hurt her or anyone else. all she knew was that somewhere, y/n was waiting for her, just like wonyoung had been too.

to love someone was to do the right thing.

"are you seeing anyone?"

"no." a grin splayed across y/n's face, one that was only ever reserved for wonyoung. "i'm not."

jang wonyoung would wait forever. she would wait for the perfect time, sitting idly in the corner of the room. she'd count the seconds as they go by, watching as each hand moved at a snail's pace, but a pace nonetheless.

"good."

l/n y/n couldn't wait. she couldn't sit by and let nature take its course. she could prevent earthquakes and hurricanes if it meant protecting wonyoung. she'd move planets, shapeshift, become someone new... someone better.

"good?"

wonyoung stood up, her hand trembling. she reached out to her y/n, offering a hand. she couldn't keep waiting forever, and she knew y/n couldn't be the only one changing for rest of eternity.

(wonyoung was too grown to keep being an idiot, anyway.)

"dance with me, y/nnie?"

love.

it was still there.

"gladly."

THE END.

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