#I comment on something from the couch I’ve been sitting on for the last half hour and everyone jumps because they did notice me

[sparklingchim]

game on 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.9k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: 18+

warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man

summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.

a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋

read chappie one here

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"Just kiss me."

"Hold on a second."

"We really need to practise this."

"I know, just give me a minute."

You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.

You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.

You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.

"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."

"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."

"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."

"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."

Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.

Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.

Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.

But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.

In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.

Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.

"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.

"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."

Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."

The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.

Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?

While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.

Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.

Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.

You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.

"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."

You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.

Taesung slid a document across the desk.

"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"

Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."

"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.

"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."

"It’s okay," you assured him gently.

Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."

After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.

Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.

But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.

Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.

"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."

You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.

"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"

A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."

"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"

"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"

You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.

"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."

"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."

"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."

Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.

"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.

"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."

He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.

After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.

Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.

And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.

"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."

You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.

"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."

You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.

"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."

You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.

"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.

"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."

"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.

"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."

"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."

You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.

"I think you do."

With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."

You frown upon hearing him complain.

"What, you want to make out with me in public?"

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."

"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."

The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."

His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.

Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.

Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.

The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.

Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.

When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.

"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."

You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"

"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."

Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."

"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."

He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.

"Are we done practising?"

"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"

It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.

The sound grabs his attention. "What?"

"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."

"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.

He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.

Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.

You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.

"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."

"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.

"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."

"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.

"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."

"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.

“We have to practise hard, then," he says.

You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."

"Oh, butterflies."

"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.

"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."

You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."

~

Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.

"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.

You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.

"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.

He holds up one finger. "Just one."

You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.

"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."

You scoff at his bratty words.

"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"

"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."

"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."

"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.

"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.

It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.

You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.

You follow Jungkook to the door.

"You think she’ll believe us?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."

Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.

You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.

"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."

[jjenthusee]

Late Night Talks

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: I’ve wanted angst, so this happened. Here’s another angsty drabble I’ve also written, if you’re interested. Comment your thoughts if you’re comfortable <3, I wanna know if this made you feel as empty as it did to me T-T (Link to pt.2 here)

Tags: Angst, hurt/no comfort, JASON SAY SOMETHING ANYTHING

Word Count: 2.2k

“Do you remember how we met?” You took another drink, the taste of alcohol invading your mouth.

“Hm.” Jason hummed, a glass of water in front of him, domino mask plopped next to it.

“I laugh every time I think of it.” You chuckled. “You smacked me pretty hard that day.”

Jason groaned as you giggled at your words. Your drunk self reminiscing on old memories, memories you didn’t dare think about sober.

“Don’t remind me, I was delirious from blood loss.” Jason winced at the memory. “Not my best moment.”

“Fair enough, it wasn’t very smart of me to approach a masked man bleeding onto the street.” You smiled, feeling the alcohol warm you. “So much has changed since then.” You swirled your glass, watching the liquid spin.

You held up your glass cup, watching the droplets fall down the sides. You hadn’t realized you drank so much that you had spilled some of your drink on the coffee table, your hand accidentally wiping it. The liquid surrounding your glass.

Jason grabbed a napkin to wipe underneath your drink. Grabbing your hand to wipe your fingers after.

You hands felt hot. You grabbed your cold cup to empty out the rest, not letting your mind wander too long on the contact.

“Look at us now, we’re sitting against my couch as I finish this bottle.” You lift the nearly empty wine bottle as you refilled your glass, focusing on trying not to get a drop over the edge this time. “You don’t have a mask on and we’re friends! No hitting too!”

Jason laid his head against the cushions as he watched you take another long drink.

He had stopped by unexpectedly. Seeking the comfort of someone else, so he dropped in by your window. He crawled in, making his footsteps loud enough to alert you that he was visiting you, but he found you, next to your couch, tipsy.

He rarely saw you drink. He hadn’t seen you at all the last couple of weeks.

Something must have been bothering you to bring out a bottle, half empty when he showed up. He was too afraid to ask what brought out this rare occasion, he already wasn’t around enough to know, so if you wanted to drink to forget, then he would stay quiet.

So Jason stayed, sitting on the floor with you, leaning against your couch. Barely fitting in the space between your couch and the coffee table. He listened to you ramble about anything that came to your mind. Dessert shops you wanted to try, a new shirt you saw at the store, the outrageous grocery prices.

He asked if you had eaten before you started drinking, bringing you a cup of water.

You were in a talkative mood, answering every question he asked.

“What did you eat?” Jason gently asked.

“Leftover pizza.”You cheerfully answered, making a triangle with your fingers to add to your point.

“Did you drink water today?”

“No.” You quietly said, quickly putting your hands down, pouting as you refused to look at him.

Cute. Jason thought.

“How was work?”

You eyes brightened.

“I have to tell you about this one lady that came in today, I wanted to shove my pen down her throat for how much attitude she gave me—“

As you talked, he made sure you were taking care of yourself. He didn’t want to see you dragging too much in the morning, but he also wouldn’t mind seeing your bed head as you rummaged through the fridge for a quick meal and a water.

“Actually, I lied earlier. I’ve haven’t changed. At all.” You stilled. The drunk, cheerful atmosphere suddenly getting serious.

The shift in your voice capturing Jason’s attention as he lifted his head to stare at you fully.

“I don’t think so.” He reassured you. Curious about your sudden self-conscious attitude.

Your eyebrows lower, clearly bothered by what Jason said.

“You don’t see it because you only see one version of me.” You stated, talking to Jason like that was a certain fact. “You don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“I don’t believe that.” Jason remarked, amused at your drunken talk. He’s never heard you so pouty, but also talking back to him with more spite.

“No, no,” You waved a finger in his face. Too close to his face, but the alcohol blurred your hand-eye coordination. “I’m a completely different person when I’m not with you.”

Jason’s ears perking up at the sudden confession.

You glanced at Jason, waving your hands to prove your point, eyes half-lidded, a slight glossiness to them.

“I’m a major perfectionist. I don’t allow myself to make mistakes. I try to calculate every little wrong move I could possibly make and find ways to handle each and every one.”

You took another sip. Jason sat up straighter, your sudden honesty causing him to look at you, really look at you. To dial into your expression, the subtle movements influenced from the alcohol and your eyes. You looked more relaxed, but sadness melted into your tone, into your body language.

“I had to be the best, to know the most, to constantly keep myself busy.” You looked off to the window behind Jason’s head. Losing yourself to your inner thoughts.

Jason waited, not wanting to interrupt. His intuition telling him that this was important, a rare vulnerable moment from you.

“You were the first person to see me completely ruined. I made so many mistakes in front of you. You made fun of my fuck ups and I was so shocked when you called me an ‘airhead.’” You loudly laughed, trying to cover up your somber feelings.

“I’ve never heard that in my life!” Your eyes crinkled from the wide smile on your face. “I was so angry at you, I thought, ‘Who’s this asshole!?’ But, despite all the teasing, I’ve never felt so relieved. I didn’t have to keep up an appearance with you. You accepted the bad version of me.”

You lazily leaned your head on the couch, the side of your face feeling the fabric. Facing Jason as you laid on your side. Jason followed after you, laying his head down too. He kept some distance between your faces, but his hand laid close to yours. He wouldn’t touch you, but he would keep his hand close.

Your face had frowned. Jason lazily smiled at your pouty look returning, wondering what you were going to say next..

“It felt suffocating when you left.” You confessed.

Jason’s eyes widened, smile disappearing.

“I was alone, trying to keep up my fake image.” Your voice got quiet. Suddenly aware of the heaviness of your words.

Jason faltered. The rawness of your voice catching him off guard.

“I missed you when you left me alone. I couldn’t handle this apartment. I was suffocating without you here.” Your eyes watered, your throat aching.

Your voice wobbled, but you mustered any self-control to blink the tears away.

Jason stared at you, his brain not fully comprehending watching your eyes water.

He had never seen you cry. So he was at a loss, speechless as his mouth opened to comfort you, but nothing came out.

You took a deep breath, gaining back control of yourself.

“But you came back. You’re here.” You closed your eyes, voice steadier, but foolishly believing that tears won’t fall if you don’t open your eyes.

Jason’s hand inched closer to yours. Cautiously about to touch your fingers.

“But it hurts. It hurts so much.” You weakly said.

His hand faltered, never reaching yours.

“I want so much. Too much.”

Jason’s hands clenched

“I didn’t know what was happening to me. I smiled every time you came into my thoughts.” Your tears building at the corners of your eyes. “I wondered if you smiled like I did. If I’m ever on your mind—”

“Don’t.” Jason interrupted, watching a lone tear fall from your eye, dropping onto the couch.

“I worry about you, your vigilante stuff, if you were hurting. That I wasn’t there.”

“Stop. Please.” Jason pressed his eyes shut, somehow thinking it would stop him from hearing your voice. So he wouldn’t have to look at the tears.

“But—but, I know better. I know you’re not mine. I can’t reach for you.” You slurred, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

You opened your eyes, tears still falling to the side of your face. You watched Jason, he was tense, eyes closed and his eyebrows pushed together.

“I can’t ask you to stop being Red Hood. I could never ask that of you.” You sniffed, softly whispering to him, afraid someone might over hear your well kept secrets. “I’ve dreamed of how happy you could be, but I know you wouldn’t trade your happiness for the cost of leaving other people alone, other people that you want to save. I can’t breathe knowing that I would be responsible for all your guilt. That I would selfishly keep you away from something greater.”

Jason’s expression weakened. His eyebrows relaxing, his frown not as prominent at your tender words.

“But I scared myself. I would be selfish.” You continued. “I would let you be mad at me for the rest of your life, for asking something so awful.”

Jason’s eyes opened, a sickening sad tenderness in his gaze.

“I would never be mad at you.” He whispered back, voice hoarse.

You couldn’t take it. You pressed your face into the cushion, trying to let as much of the tears disappear into the fabric. You stayed there for a moment before you looked back at Jason, your eyelashes covered in tears, the tip of your nose pink from the emotions.

“I believe that being next to you is the right thing for me,” You hesitated, “But I don’t think you want to be next to me.”

Jason winced. A prick in his chest at your words.

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you to tell me—it will ruin me.” You spoke through the fresh tears.

You lifted your hand from the bottom of the couch, reaching out to Jason’s face. He didn’t move away from you like he always did, he was so still, you thought maybe this was another fabrication you dreamed, but when your fingers landed on his cheek, it was soft. You flinched from him like you were touching a hot burner.

With increasing confidence that he might not pull away, you laid your fingers back on his face, softly tracing the edges of his scars. You were past your limit, but if this was possibly the last night that Jason came by after running your mouth, then you wanted at least this—this last goodbye, this last moment of Jason to yourself.

Jason didn’t say anything. He stayed still while you touched him, hands clenched, watching your eyes, your lips tremble, the lines of tears left on your face.

You took your time to memorize his features. To look at Jason. You wished he got mad at you, rejected your hand touching him, rejected your words, but he didn’t. He could’ve left whenever he wanted, not listening to your drunk self, but he was still laying here, facing you.

“I would have let you ruin me.” You whispered, so soft that you barely heard yourself.

You let go of Jason, clenching onto the couch cushion below your head. You closed your eyes, tired from the emotions, tired from the alcohol, tired from the thoughts of waking up tomorrow to everything you did.

Jason rubbed his cheek, where you touched him.

He stared at your vulnerable state, watching a single tear cling to your lashes.

He reached forward, ready to wipe your eyes, but he stopped. Hearing your quiet whimper as you turned your face to bury your head in your arms on the couch.

His hand dropped.

You tried to get yourself under control, but the tears wouldn’t stop. You sniffled, trying anything to steady the trembling and the uncontrollable breathing. A couple of deep breaths later, you lifted your head, feeling ready to apologize for everything that happened in your drunken state.

“Jay, I’m sor—“

He was gone.

The space he sat in was empty. No droop in the cushion where he leaned into.

You stilled, tears pausing, mindlessly staring, wondering if you had made up everything that happened.

You reached at the cushion, feeling at the threads, warmth still lingering.

You were calm. Too calm.

You glanced at the coffee table. No domino mask, but his glass was still there, completely full.

He left. He really left.

You curled into the couch, your sobbing muffled into the cushions. Grabbing the edges as you yelled at yourself.

“You idiot.” You pulled at your hair, crushing your hands into the cushions. “I fucked up—I really fucked up.” You threw a pillow, anger overtaking you.

“I can’t do anything right!” You cried into your hands.

Finally letting yourself release the cries you’ve been pushing down.

The high from the anger died out quickly, your shoulders drooping. Your sobs drowning into quiet muffles. You legs aching from sitting on the floor, your eyes hurting from too many tears.

You quieted down.

Your hands falling from your face to your lap, emptily looking at the crevices of your hands.

“This is the one mistake I should’ve kept hidden from you.” You trembled, speaking into the emptiness of your living room.

Jason sat outside your window, out of sight as he listened.

[daengtokki]

𝐿𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 11k

rating: mature/explicit ಇ

comments: thanks everyone for the likes and reblogs and feedback! (´︶`) knowing someone is enjoying my fics makes writing seungmin so much easier. technically this is the last part, but not really...

⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ ﾟ｡ ⋆

→ Blind Date

→ Second Date

→ Third Date

Part 4 of 4

Seungmin goes quiet after that, relaxes against the arm of the couch. You’re on the opposite side, doing the same. You watch each other carefully , but nobody makes a move, and nobody starts to speak.

You wonder if there was something you could have done to avoid all of this drama. Four and a half months of wondering; of being so down you can barely make it to work some days. Both of you have been really bad at this.

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

-

Counting the days and weeks until Seungmin comes back to you has been excruciating, sometimes anxiety inducing, and the only thing really keeping you together.

As of today it’s been 136 days since you spent the night with him. Twenty weeks, almost, since you looked at him face to face—touched him, kissed him, desperately wanted to confess how you’ve already fallen for him, and you never want to leave his side again.

But he did text you three days ago.

A part of you feels like giving up, because maybe this has gone on for far too long.

It’s nothing that Seungmin has done. He hasn’t said anything to you about things likely not working out. He talks to you in the same sweet, cheery way he always has when he actually has time to text, or call. You don’t resent him for his lack of communication, ever, because you know his lifestyle is worlds away from yours.

But the part of you that’s crazy about him sits and thinks: he can call for a five minute conversation, ask me how I am before I completely fall apart. You think…why hasn’t he messaged back? It takes a few seconds.

You hate having these thoughts. But you’re only human, and you have so much empty time to think about him.

It’s just not the same for him. It might never be the same for him.

Right now you’re staring out of your classroom window, completely lost in thought. The kids are working quietly, and it’s honestly the first time all day where you’ve been truly alone in your head.

There’s a loud knock on the door, and it makes you, and your students, jump.

“Come in…”

The door opens slowly, and the face that peeks through the door is a familiar one.

“Hey,” Choonhee waits a moment, then enters and closes the door behind her. She grabs a chair and finds a spot to sit directly in front of, across your desk.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“I’m on my way out, but I wanted to see you before I left. I keep missing you, and you’re not answering my messages.” The look she gives you is a little bit questioning, and a little bit irritated.

“Sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind. I’m trying to get out of this slump.”

“Slump? The same one you’ve been in for the last…” she gestures vaguely at nothing, “month? Maybe longer, I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” you manage, but it comes out shaky. You feel your throat tighten, and the air is pushed out of your lungs. Your eyes sting with tears. You can’t do this here.

“Hey hey, I’m sorry.” Choonhee starts to stand, “go pull yourself together, I’ll watch the class.”

You inhale deeply and make your way to the restroom. Luckily you have it to yourself, because when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, tears are starting to stream down your cheeks. The result of bottling up until you explode.

Talking to Choonhee about this was always an option, but you haven’t. For some reason, you didn’t want her know how deep the cut is that Seungmin has made in you.

Her blind date was probably never supposed to turn into this; something serious, something you want, maybe more than anything you’ve ever wanted. You feel stupid and childish about it, because you know who he is. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that it was him that initiated date number two, and three, sort of, otherwise you’ll convince yourself you somehow forced him into all of this.

It takes far too long for you to finish crying and clean yourself up, but she’s still sitting there waiting when you return.

“I’ll be over tonight, and we’re going to talk it out. Okay?” She says.

You nod, eyes still red, makeup probably giving you two black eyes.

“I have to get going, I’ll see you later. Your phone went off while you were in the bathroom.”

You watch her as she walks out, then look to your students. In a few minutes, they’ll be dismissed. And you can go home and finish the crying that you’ve started.

First, you sit and poke the screen of your phone. It’s just a text message.

No, it’s not just a text message. It’s Seungmin. Choonhee probably looked, but all she would’ve seen is the contact name for him; SM.

Weeks ago, you almost changed it to Minnie, but you didn’t. The impersonal, secretive SM remained. You unlock your phone and open it.

I hope you had a good day. You’re just leaving work, I think…if I have my time right

And just like that, he pulls you back up, and back in. He says the right thing at just the right time. Although today, he he did miss it by a few minutes.

Now you battle with whether or not you text him back immediately, or wait until you get home. Neither feels like the right thing to do. You stare down at the message until it’s time for you to dismiss your class, thinking of what to say to him.

It’s personal. He took note of the time, and remembered when it is you usually leave.

Part of you feels like crying again, but your heart is fluttering. You hate this.

———

“I got your favorite!” Choonhee starts unloading the bag of food she brought with her. “Don’t look so defeated over there.”

She let herself in while you sat folded up on the couch. You’re still looking at your phone, trying to figure out what to say to him. Should you keep it casual and tell him your day was alright? Lie?

No, you could tell him the truth; that it was a rough day, and you’ve had a lot of days like this lately because you haven’t seen him in such a long time. But you have no idea how he’d react to that. Maybe he would feel guilty about not texting more, or feel bad because he’s been too busy to see you when he is in Seoul.

Or maybe he would feel overwhelmed by it, and decide enough was enough.

Seungmin—the Seungmin you know, at least, has always come off very laidback. Open when he needed to be, but not overly so. He’s a little bit reserved, but so many moments with him have been…cute.

And Chicago. It’s been so long since Chicago—long enough that the memory is fading a little. You have to think back on it and keep yourself there, in that moment, to remember all the detail. It’s all still there, in your head.

Finally, you start to type.

“Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.”

You stare at it until Choonhee clears her throat in an attempt to get your attention.

You read it once more, then send it.

“Okay, dinner is served. Eat and tell me what’s been bothering you.”

You set your phone face down on the table and take a few bites before getting into it. Starting the conversation will be the most difficult.

So you just start.

“This is a little bit my fault, isn’t it?” Choonhee listened quietly, but you could tell she wasn’t expecting this to be about him. “I pushed this on you. I knew he spoke to you back in…June? I think it was June. But I didn’t know you saw each other again after the first date.”

“Yeah, there was a second date. And a third. And, well…ya know.”

Her eyebrows raise, “what? Fourth, fifth?”

“No, we slept together.”

She’s silent for a long moment, but her eyes remain fixed on you.

“When I went home in July. Remember?”

She’s still silent.

“I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Seungmin doesn’t like opening up to people. He doesn’t do that. Or he didn’t, at least. Are you sure you didn’t just…dream it?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream about having sex with him and then convince myself it really happened.”

Choonhee throws her hands up and waves your remark away, “okay I’m sorry, I’m just…surprised. I mean, even the multiple dates is a little surprising.”

“Then why did you even set us up?”

She shrugs, and then struggles to find the right words, “I don’t know…you were both here, and alone. I didn’t want you to spend the holiday by yourself. I thought you’d like him…I guess I was right. I’m not usually good with matches.

“So…are you saying I should just move on?”

“No, absolutely not! Text him right now, and tell him you want to see him when he gets home. He doesn’t get to fuck and run. I don’t care who he is.”

She goes quiet for a few seconds, but you can tell she’s frustrated and deep in thought. “I knew you’d like him. I’m sorry, I made this mess. If he doesn’t get himself together and talk to you like he should, I’ll go find him myself.”

———

By the time your text message gets to Seungmin, he’s home, undressed, and about to hop into a very hot shower. He smiles when he reads Minnie, because in the far too few messages exchanged, you’ve mostly called him Seungmin. His smile fades when he reads the rest.

He knows he’s been bad at this. Not just bad, actually—he’s been pathetic. He’s ghosted you, and strung you along for weeks.

No, he thinks. It’s been months of sporadic texting. Every time he was home, or close to home, he ignored you. Not maliciously, of course, and ignored is a strong word. He messaged you, but it really was the bare minimum. Especially after the last time you were together; you gave yourself to him, and Seungmin took all that he could.

Now he can’t admit to you how much it scared him.

He sets his phone down for now, and climbs into the shower—because once again, his mind, body, and everything in between is tired.

He’s so tired, he feels like he could cry. Maybe if he just let go, let himself wrap around someone and cry into their chest, he would feel better.

———

“When did he text you last?” Choonhee is cleaning up the table, throwing things into the sink, and generally doing a terrible job of tidying. But she means well, and you let her at it. “Has it been a while?”

“Three days ago, before today. He sent a message while you were in my classroom earlier.”

“Oh, is that who the buzz was? Did you answer back? Maybe you should just make him wait around.”

“I replied right before we ate, only because it took me a while to figure out what to say.”

You’re back on the couch now, phone in hand, eyes staring at the stagnant message thread. Figuring out his schedule is tough sometimes, and you try (and usually fail) to stay off of Twitter and fan sites. Right now you’re sifting through them, though—looking for anything new.

You pull up a few airport photos from earlier today. Seungmin is hidden behind a mask and a hat, but you can see his eyes. He looks tired.

It makes your heart sink. You return to your message thread again and read through the last few texts; they feel more and more impersonal as time goes on, and that makes your heart sink, too.

Maybe he is pulling away from you.

“I know saying this won’t help, but do not let this take over. Don’t let him get into your head like this.”

“It’s too late for that.”

Choonhee grabs your arm and shakes it furiously, “he’s just a guy!”

———

Seungmin is flat on his back, covers fluffed up all around him, a pillow under his head, another under his feet. No matter what he does, he’s uncomfortable. He desperately wants and needs to fall asleep, but it’s alluding him. His brain won’t shut up.

The room is chilly, and that’s usually what does the trick. Cold room, warm bed, and he’s out like a light.

He picks up his phone and reads your text again.

Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.

If only he could figure out what to say back to you. There are so many things he wants to say, and so few ways he can think of to type it out.

Even if he were to see you face to face, he’d be lost for words. Seungmin is not one to let people in, but he has already let you in.

And now he’s stupidly pushing you away.

He pulls up a photo of you and stares at it. This wasn’t the way he planned on relaxing, but his hand is finding it’s way under his shirt anyway, touching his stomach, slowly moving downward until reaches the waistband of his sweatpants.

Thinking of your one night together, somehow still vivid in his head after all this time, is enough to get him hard. And looking at you…he runs his hand down the length of his cock, grabs tight, and strokes himself slowly. The breath he lets out is shaky. He has to be quiet.

———

“Is he?” You look at her, only slightly defeated. “…just a guy?”

“You slept with him, you should know.”

“He’s not.”

The look she gives you is almost enough to make you rethink what you just said.

“I promise you, beneath everything, he’s like any other guy you’ve dated who got too close, freaked out, and disappeared.”

You shake your head. Then your phone buzzes in your hand, and the feeling makes your heart jump to your throat, and your stomach sink all at once. You don’t immediately move your eyes to the screen—you can’t.

“Was that him?”

Now you look. SM. You nod.

you still want to see me?

You will see him again, and you’ll tell him exactly how you feel.

“What did he say?”

You turn your phone so Choonhee can read the message. She rolls her eyes.

“He sounds like a guy. I’m sorry I got you into this…but, you are going to see him again I assume.”

“Yeah, of course.”

———

It’s not until you’re in bed, hours later, that you open his text in an attempt to answer. But it might be better to do this in the morning, because sending one and waiting for his reply is going to keep you up all night.

You stare anyway, trying to get your thoughts in order; your words, your feelings. Do you want him to know how you really feel now, or when you have him in front of you? Can you even get the right words out when he’s in front of you?

You open your notes app and begin working on a reply.

You know I want to see you, Seungmin. I’m trying to be patient and understanding, but it’s so hard when you’re on my mind every day. I hope you’re getting some rest, and I hope you’re doing well. And I hope I can see you before you leave again.

You fall asleep writing. And in the morning, there he is again. One text message sent at 5am.

I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October, but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse

For a moment, you think you accidentally sent the rough draft of your text in your sleep. You didn’t. This was just him, awake before dawn, finally giving you something sincere. Now you have to rethink your reply.

The typing notification pops up while you’re reading over his message again. Still awake at 6:45.

I remember you telling me you wake up at the same time every morning... Good morning

You feel like crying again. But not like yesterday.

“Good morning” is the best you can come up with this early. He’ll have to wait.

———

Seungmin falls asleep, eventually, but not comfortably.

He gets up from bed to clean himself up, change (he’s warm now, so he opts for less clothes), and hopefully he’ll still be a little bit tired by the time he hits the bed again.

At 4:45am, his body decides he’s had enough. Now he’s awake, eyes still closed, bed far too warm. He throws off the blankets and flips onto his back.

Immediately, and not surprisingly, Seungmin’s thoughts turn to you. You’re sleeping soundly, he hopes, unlike him. He imagines you in the bed he’s never seen; curled up, tucked in. Maybe if he was there with you, he could sleep.

Every time he gets back home, he tries to push himself again, and he fails. He did it in October, and then again in September, right before his birthday. He knows he can’t keep doing this to you.

He pulls out his phone and opens your message thread.

…I hope I get to see you again soon

Seungmin stops thinking and just types:

“I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October…”

He stops and reads it. October. He was busy with the album release, but if he looks back in his messages again, he can count the number of texts he sent on one hand. You sent just as many…well, one more than him. That last message he didn’t even reply to. You must have been fed up with him and his lack of communication. And you had every right to be.

“…but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse.”

This part is true. Seungmin is almost freezing again right now.

“I don’t know how to explain…”

Now he thinks.

“…how all of this is making me feel. Maybe I’m…”

Seungmin backspaces the last sentence before he even finishes it. And then he hits send.

At 6:45, he’s still wide awake. He remembers you telling him your alarm is always set for this time, so he sends one more message.

And you reply. He was right, you were awake. Just a good morning, though. He’s sure it’s far too early for you to deal with his wishy-washy bullshit.

———

When he doesn’t text again by lunch time, you decide he’s waited long enough. And you can’t waste time, really. He might not be in town for long.

“I want to see you, and I will see you. Today, tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. But I need it to be soon. Neither of us are allowed to be nervous anymore.”

It’s better, you decide, than whatever you wrote last night.

He’s silent as you drift through the rest of the school day (you assume he’s having trouble thinking of a reply to that), and right as the class is gathering their things and leaving, another teacher sneaks in and approaches you. Then you realize it’s not a teacher, but you recognize her. She’s a secretary you’ve spoken to a few times before.

She nods to you and smiles. “I know you’re on your way out, but there’s a visitor for you, a parent who insisted I bring them right to you. It seemed important.”

You have very specific times for parent/teacher visits, and this is not one of them. And there is nobody else who would visit you. You’re confused. “Okay, send them in…I guess.”

You look down at your phone—you doubt it, but maybe you missed a text message or a call. No, nothing.

“Hello.”

The way his voice floats over to you almost knocks you out, and when you turn to meet his eyes, your throat refuses to let you release the air in your lungs.

“Your last text was very insistent. I know this probably is not the best approach…but I haven’t been doing a very good job of anything lately.”

Still you just stare at him, lost for words. You look around your classroom, then down at yourself. This is not how you wanted to see him again, but do you have any room to complain?

He takes a few steps toward you, “was this a bad idea?”

You manage to shake your head and swallow. And then you realize your legs still work, with some effort. Two steps later, your arms wrap around his waist, your face disappears in his sweatshirt, and you squeeze.

His tiny, relieved laugh is music to your ears, and then his hands slide across your back until he’s fully embraced you.

You keep him there for a long time, and he doesn’t protest or try to pull you away. When he does speak again, it’s a question.

“How was your day?”

You slowly release him, but making eye contact is a bit of a challenge. “It’s better now.” So you fall apart when he does show up; no strong words, no looks of disbelief at his absence. You knew this would happen.

“Where can I take you? Home? Or…anywhere you want.”

“Home is good.”

“Okay, there’s a ride waiting for us.” He moves his hands up and over your shoulders, and he rests them on either side of your neck. “I understand if you’re angry with me, and if you stay that way.”

“I am. I don’t want to be.”

Seungmin leans closer, and he moves painfully slow, but eventually he makes it to your mouth. His kiss is light and short, but he keeps going back to peck at your lips, over and over, until you open up and hold him there.

Finally, clear memories of Chicago fill you up. His scent and his touch pull you right back, and you hope he remembers it like you do.

———

It feels like your first date. A quiet car ride, a slow ride up the elevator, an awkward, unsure walk down the hallway to your apartment door. Then walking into your messy living room.

“Are you hungry? I can order something for us,” he says as he’s carefully removing his shoes. “And we can talk while we wait.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll make some coffee.”

Seungmin doesn’t follow you to the kitchen, like he’s done a few times before. Instead, he sits on the couch, situating himself so he can still see you.

You try not to look at him as you work, but you fail, several times. He smiles every time your eyes meet, but it’s a sad smile. It’s not one you’re used to seeing.

“No small talk,” you tell him as you hand him his coffee. “I’ll lose my mind.”

“No small talk.” He nods.

“Where have you been?” You start, staring down at your mug. “Not physically, I know that already. I mean…in every other way.”

“Uhm—“ Seungmin thinks. His face twists a little, probably in confusion. “Where have I…”

“Mentally,” you can’t take your eyes off of him now. “Emotionally.”

“Oh, okay I understand.” He clears his throat, adjusts himself. “It’s been hard to keep my thoughts organized lately. It’s not just that I’ve been busy with work…I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry.”

Seungmin shakes his head, “I could’ve fixed it, I’m sure. If I would’ve just talked about things with you a while ago, I probably would have slept easier.”

“I kept you up?”

“Yes. Well, thinking about you. I do think about you, all the time, even if I haven’t kept in touch. But I’ve been over complicating things, I think.”

“Talk to me now. Please.”

You think you can see his cheeks turning pink. His eyes are wide and shiny, but he’s unsure.

“I know, Seungmin…it is hard. It’s been hard for me, and I feel like it’s been a little more difficult for you. I kept everything to myself all this time, up until yesterday.”

He gives you another questioning look.

“Choonhee forced it out of me.”

He nods, sets his coffee down, and swings his legs up on the couch. Something about him making himself more comfortable puts you at ease. You remember him mentioning before that he felt relaxed being here, alone with you. "I don’t feel any pressure here." You hope he still feels that way.

“Tell me what you told her.”

“She did most of the talking.”

“Then what did Choonhee tell you?”

“That you’re just a guy, and I shouldn’t let you get to me like this.”

Seungmin actually nods at that—but he’s not looking you in the eyes now, so maybe he’s just…thinking about it. Or maybe he’s agreeing. You don’t know where this is going yet.

“I am just a guy, she’s right. I don’t want to be just a guy, though. Not to you.”

“Oh…”

“I thought I knew what was going on when we were together in Chicago, and I thought I knew what I wanted. I’ve been thinking all this time that if this couldn’t be a normal, traditional relationship, you would not be happy, not satisfied. And you’d tell me you weren’t interested in me anymore. I thought you would tell me you couldn’t do it.”

You almost interject; tell him that’s never what you expected of him. You wouldn’t never do that. Why didn’t you say that before? Instead, you used the hypothetical “if you weren’t who you are” question on him. You remain quiet, though, hoping he continues.

“…what I’ve been doing isn’t much better than what I’ve been afraid of. But you’re very smart, and I always knew that.”

You just smile at him, waiting for more.

“That’s why you were so worried when you found out who I was. You know this is much more complicated than that.”

Seungmin goes quiet after that, relaxes against the arm of the couch. You’re on the opposite side, doing the same. You watch each other carefully , but nobody makes a move, and nobody starts to speak.

You wonder if there was something you could have done to avoid all of this drama. Four and a half months of wondering; of being so down you can barely make it to work some days. Both of you have been really bad at this.

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

He’s biting his lip. Tapping his foot. It’s almost touching you, and you want to stretch your leg out until it does, but right as you tell your brain to do it, his leg slides back. He sits up and leans forward, falls to his knees, and crawls across the couch.

Before you can squeak his name out, he’s straddling you, arms on either side of your waist. And then the full weight of his body is on you. Seungmin sets his head down gently against your chest and relaxes.

You freeze for a few seconds. You have fallen asleep on this couch with him before, but this feels like much more.

He doesn’t say anything, not even when you set your hand on his head—rake your fingers through his hair, wrap your other arm around his shoulders. He sighs, though.

When it feels like you’re drifting off to sleep, he finally speaks. It’s muffled against your shirt.

“You just want me, right?”

“What?”

“Even if nobody is allowed to know. And we can’t go out in public, and I have to pretend you don’t exist.”

“Seungmin, I know that we can’t have a normal relationship. I just want you…and to know that you want me.” You say the last part under your breath.

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I promise I’ll be better. And that I won’t be afraid to talk to you, and tell you too much.”

“You can tell me whatever you need to.”

“I don’t usually talk much…to anyone.”

It never occurred to you that he didn’t have someone to talk to when he was feeling down, or having a bad day. A bad week. He’s been bottling everything up, just like you have. Maybe for a very long time.

“You can talk to me about your bad days, Minnie, or when you can’t sleep. And about your good days. I would like to be that person.”

“Am I the reason you had a rough day yesterday? Have you had a lot of those?”

“Yeah, I have had a lot of bad days because I missed you.”

“You can tell me about your bad days, too. Even if they were bad because of me.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Seungmin laughs, and it shakes your whole body. “Good.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The next morning is almost normal. Your alarm goes off at its regular time—6:45, and you’re tired, which is also normal. The room is chilly, and it’s so warm under the blankets that getting up is nearly impossible. An ordinary morning. The one thing that makes it different is that Seungmin is there when you open your eyes.

The alarm doesn’t even make him stir, but when you finally turn it off, he groans.

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to work?” He asks, eyes closed, voice raspy with sleep.

“No, not today. I found someone to cover for me.”

He smiles and reaches his arm toward you, and he feels blindly around where he thinks you might be. “Why are you so far away?”

You move closer and grab his arm, “I’m right here. Go back to sleep.”

“I’ll try.”

…

Sleep eventually finds both of you again. When you wake back up a few hours later, he’s still there, breathing deeply, melting into your bed. You need to get up, but you wait a little longer. You really don’t want to wake him right now.

When he eventually wakes up on his own, he’ll feel better.

You close your eyes. And again, you fall asleep.

…

Something warm against your forehead wakes you up for a third time. Your eyes open and all you see is skin; Seungmin’s neck, his shoulder. The collar of his shirt is loose enough that you can see the start of his chest.

You pull him closer and push your face into him. He smells good. He smells like sleep and sweat and whatever leftover cologne is still stuck to him from yesterday.

Part of you still wants to keep your guard up. He’ll be gone soon, and then you’ll have to wait and see if his confidence and trust in you remains, and if he’ll really feel comfortable telling you the things he doesn’t tell anyone else.

“I can start,” you say, face still in his chest. You move up toward his neck and set your lips against his skin.

“Start what?”

“After we were together last, in Chicago, and we didn’t…use a condom. I did get a morning after pill, and I took it.”

He pulls you away so he can look at you.

“My period came really late after that, so I thought it didn’t work. And I was really scared. But I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell you because we hadn’t talked very much that week, and you didn’t need that on your mind anyway.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that alone.”

“Everything turned out okay.”

“You can talk to me any time you need to, even if I’ve been quiet.”

You nod, and you really want to believe him.

“Too soon for babies.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear him. He has a little smirk on his face, but he’s avoiding eye contact and staring at the little bit of space between you.

“You want them?”

“Hm?” Now he makes eye contact, and his ears are slowly turning red. “Uhm…yes, I always have. Do you?”

Having kids isn’t something you’ve thought about much (aside from the scare you had in July), because you haven’t met anyone you would want to have kids with. Well, until now, because looking at Seungmin and the sweet smile on his face is making you want them immediately. But you know that’s not possible for him.

“With the right person, yeah.”

“I’m sure someday I’ll be able to do that. Have the time to be there, for both of them. You and baby. I couldn’t be gone all the time and leave you alone.”

He stops for a second. You wonder if he’s even hearing himself speak.

“…Seungmin?”

“It was my turn to tell you something personal.” He brings his hands up to his face and rubs his cheeks, then his eyes. “Just in case I’m the right person.”

The conversation feels like too much, too soon. But you like it. He’s only been open with you like this once before: on your second date, when he admitted to being worried you’d like his friends more than him. You thought that was silly then, and now…you’re not sure you could like anyone more than Seungmin.

“…and if I’m your right person.”

Seungmin smiles and hides his face in the pillow.

———

As the day goes on, you wonder how long he’ll be here with you. Every time he looks at a message on his phone, you assume that will be his cue to get going—to start saying goodbye. But he’s still here, and he seems content.

It was his idea to stay, and he insisted on making breakfast.

“What do you normally do on your days off?” is what he asked as you sat and ate.

So it’s been a regular day off, aside from the fact that Seungmin is also here with you…eating, cleaning, sorting laundry, watching tv, and eventually, catching up with schoolwork.

He sits down next to you on the couch when you open your binder and pull out a stack of papers. He watches quietly as you shuffle though them, putting the pages in order before you start to look them over properly.

He picks the next one up before you get to it. “How old are your students again?”

“They are eight…a few are nine.”

“I don’t remember my English classes being this complicated when I was…older than them.”

“You should see their math homework.”

“Oh, I was very good at math!”

“Yeah?” You look at him, give him your full attention. “There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

“Not even what’s on the internet?” Seungmin leans back against the couch, and pulls you with him.

“I’ve read a few things. But I’m sure you’re a lot more complicated than your fun facts.”

“I hope so.” He grabs you around the waist, “what were you good at in school?”

“English…” you laugh. “And I did pretty good in my German class, and history.”

“Do you speak German, too?” He’s holding you tight, head resting on your shoulder.

“No, I’ve forgotten almost all of that.”

“Why did you come here, to Korea?

You turn yourself to look at him, disturbing his resting head. But he keeps his arms around you.

“So close to Samseong-Dong?”

“I felt like I needed to start over after I graduated college, and this seemed like the perfect way to do it. I actually almost went to Japan.”

“Why didn’t you? Where did you go to college?”

“Northwestern University. And I missed a deadline. Luckily, I already had applications submitted to a few different programs here and nearby.”

“And you chose here?”

Seungmin’s hands wander throughout the entire conversation, stopping when they reach just below where the hem of your shirt hits.

“They chose me.”

“That’s very lucky.” They slide underneath and up your back, “maybe we were meant to meet each other.”

“I’m not sure I believe in things like that.” You move yourself closer to him, until your face is inches from his.

“I don’t either, really. Fate, and soulmates. I’ve been called a…uhm, I don’t remember the English word. A negative person.”

“A pessimist?”

“Yes. Maybe sometimes I am, but…not always. I can be positive. I just like to be realistic.”

“A pragmatist.” You lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Mhm, both of those P words. I did get lucky, though.” He pushes forward, gently coaxing you to your back.

“Was it there before?” You ask. He’s hanging over you, studying your face. “Before Chicago, after I asked if you would date me?“

“Was what there? You mean, did I like you?”

“Yes, but…more than that. Or was it spending the night together?”

“It was before that. That’s why I wanted to spend the night with you.”

You nod, trying hard not to beam up at him. But his hands are on your sides, and his fingertips are moving so delicately over you, you can’t help but smile.

“When was it there for you?”

Your heart starts beating a little faster. You have no answer ready for him except the truth.

“When you gave me Pochacco.”

“On our first date? At the coffee shop?”

You throw your hands over your face and nod, “yeah, at the coffee shop.”

“I felt kind of silly giving him to you, I thought you would think it was silly, too.” He pulls your hands away so he can see your face again.

“It wasn’t.”

“So PuppyM wasn’t silly either?”

“No, I love him. And your denim jacket you left, that’s hanging on my bedpost. I love all of your gifts.”

“Oh, I forgot about that jacket!”Seungmin comes down and settles himself against you, face in your neck, hands wondering more.

“You can have it back, if you want.”

“No, you keep it. But I do need something of yours to keep with me.” His hands slide under your shirt and across your stomach. He tickles your side again, then stops when he reaches your hip.

You’re surprised at his restraint.

“I’m sure I have something for you.” You set your hand over his and slide it up his arm. Then back down.

His fingers twitch and push under your shorts. As ready as you were, and as much as you wanted him to make that move, your breath still catches in your throat.

He props himself up with his other arm and looks at you. His fingers touch lightly over your underwear, taking his time, getting himself where he needs to be.

But you’re not taking your time. And it’s Seungmin touching you, so your body is already on fire. You push your hips up and push his hand harder against you.

His fingers slide up and sneak beneath the fabric. He moves slowly, and he’s watching you carefully, as if you might protest.

But of course you don’t. You grip his arm and slide your hand from his bicep down to his wrist, moving with him as his fingers slip inside of you.

“Am I doing okay?” He leans closer and whispers. He doesn’t wait for an answer before pulling out and sliding back over your clit, making you choke on your answer.

You manage a shaky mhm and Seungmin giggles into your ear. His fingers stay put, making soft circles around you, keeping his touch as delicate as possible. Then he takes them off again, and he pushes back inside.

The reach of is fingers is enough to hit just the right spot, and when you jump from the pressure, he does it again and again until he gets a moan out of you.

You lift your hips into his touch and pull him down for a kiss. Your grip on his arm tightens and he eases up, but barely. His mouth is working its way across your neck now, leaving you free to moan.

“Do you do this a lot?” He says as he nibbles across your ear and cheek. When he gets to your lips, he hangs above you and holds your gaze. His thumb slides over your clit again, like he wanted to remind you of what he was talking about.

“Uhh…hmm?” You slide your hand up and grab a handful of his hair. “Yes.” You laugh and knead your fingertips into his scalp—it makes his eyes roll back. He’s in your neck again, savoring his little massage.

“Do you think about me when you do it?”

His question sends another wave of pleasure through you. His fingers slip inside again, pressing hard. His thumb is on your clit, wet and sliding easily and hitting everywhere you need it to.

There’s hot, heavy breathing in your ear, and a sweet whisper, “do you think about me, hm?”

“Every time,” your climax hits fast, and Seungmin knows he’s succeeded by the way you’re pulling at his hair.

He holds himself up just enough to watch you squirm beneath him. His touch softens even more as you start to relax, and when you stop and stare up at him, he comes down and kisses across your forehead and down the side of your face. He lets you catch your breath before moving to your lips.

“Really?” Seungmin blushes and tries to stifle his laugh in your neck.

You nod slowly, “that was…very good.”

“Thank you.”

“Too good, maybe.”

“I did some research.”

“You did not.” But when you think about it for a second, it does seem like something Seungmin would do. “Did you?”

“Just a little. In case I’d get to try it out on you someday.”

———

Seungmin looks carefully across your desk, touching the books stacked there, the loose sheets of composition paper, the notes and pencils. He sits in your chair and opens the drawer—inside are a few notebooks, all used and full. He shuffles things around a little, searching every inch.

Now he gets up and moves to your bookshelf. It’s more of a trinket shelf, though. Seungmin only runs his eyes over this, until he catches sight of a snow globe. He picks that up and shakes it. Inside is the Chicago skyline.

He stares at it for a long moment, then returns it to his spot. His attention turns to you, on the bed.

You just smile at him. He keeps looking around.

The next stop is your bedside table. You sit up when he sits down on the edge of the bed, run your hand down his back. As soon as he opens it, he whispers an ooh, and reaches inside.

“What did you find?” You laugh.

“Me,” he holds up three photocards with his face on them.

You take them from him and fall back on the bed, “you”, and look deeply at paper Seungmin.

“Hey, I’m right here…” he pushes your hand away and bends down to kiss you. “Real me.”

The next thing pulled from the drawer is a journal. He looks it over, but doesn’t open it.

“That’s you, too.”

Seungmin points to it, and his head tilts, “this is me?”

“Yeah, almost every page.”

His face goes from confusion to understanding, and then it falls a little.

“You should add one more page.”

“I will.”

The journal goes back in, and then his fingers close around something small. When he pulls it out, it catches the light and throws a reflection across the room.

“Oh, I haven’t worn this since last time.” You sit up and Seungmin hands you the bracelet. It’s only a tiny gold chain, but at the very end of it is a star charm.

“This.” He says, and he watches as you unclasp it, wrap it around his wrist, and close it again.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

An hour after Seungmin left your house the last time, he sent you a text that just said “I’m home”. That was a first, and it felt like a good omen. But only time would tell. He never really had a good start with keeping in touch.

But he also said goodnight. And then he said good morning. And sometimes he called just to tell you instead of texting.

Actually, this morning, almost two months later, he called early in the morning, when you were still asleep. You caught his name on the lock screen before you picked up, but you still lacked the energy for anything more than a groggy morning Min.

Luckily, he can make up in enthusiasm what you lack some days.

“I’m sorry, you’re still asleep,” he whispers.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just being lazy. What are you up to this morning?” You also caught sight of the time before answering: 10am, way too late for you to sleep in.

“Catching a flight home, from Thailand. Waiting around.” Now you can hear the sleep still lingering in his voice.

“Oh right. I forgot you were there…I did see some photos. You looked very handsome in your safety glasses.”

“Thank you,” he laughs. “I was calling to…uhm, say good morning, and also to see if you would be home tonight.”

“Minnie, I’m always home.”

“That’s true, but it would still be rude to just show up unannounced.”

“I give you permission to show up unannounced.”

“Can I have a key, too? Oh, that reminds me…uuh, well, actually I’ll just talk to you about it later.”

“Okay, don’t forget. And yes you can have a key.”

———

This is the first time you’re not nervous about Seungmin coming over. Well, not as nervous as you typically would be. You’re still a little on edge—a little worried about how you look and about how your food is going to taste.

He didn’t mention anything about coming over hungry, but you’re taking the initiative anyway. If anything, he’ll have something to take home with him.

A soft knock at the door. You know his soft, steady knock, and you never have any other visitors, so it’s him. But for some reason you stand there stupidly, not moving, not saying anything, because you know it’s really him on the other side of your door.

Finally, after a few seconds, you take a breath. “It’s open.”

The door swings open.

“Hi,” Seungmin closes it quietly, takes off his shoes and looks at you from across the room. “It smells very good in here.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten so…”

“No, nothing since lunch.” He takes a few long strides toward you. Big blue sweatshirt, matching sweatpants, a big smile. “So I’m very hungry,” he embraces you and squeezes you tight against his chest. “How have you been?” He relaxes, but he doesn’t let you free.

“I’ve been okay...I’ve been good.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit around Christmas—oh!” He bends down and kisses you.

He kisses for a long time—long enough that you think you might end up in bed before you even eat dinner. But he slows down, and then releases you.

“Happy new year! A little late.” He comes down again for one more kiss, and then makes his way to the kitchen. “What did you make? Something American? It smells like something American.”

“Yes. It’s very American.”

“Should we eat first, or talk?”

“I’m sure we can manage both.”

———

The two of you stare at each other from across your tiny kitchen table. Seungmin sips his tea. You just watch and wait, because this is his conversation.

“Do you want me to start? Something about you having a key to my apartment?”

“Ah, yeah. Yes, I should have a key, but I was thinking of a different apartment.”

“Oh, like yours? No, you don’t have an apartment. Or do you?” You lean a little closer, “secret apartment?”

“No, no secret apartment,” he laughs. “But I thought it would be nice if you lived closer. Closer to the city, and closer to me.”

“That would be nice, but I’m not sure something closer is in my budget.”

“I know,” Seungmin smiles—there’s always something so clever and knowing about his smile. “I figured you might say that. I could help.”

“You want to help me with rent? Expensive rent. That’s kind of serious.”

“I do! It is serious. I am serious.”

“You are?” You sit back in your chair and study his face. He’s still smiling and nodding at you.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about it for…almost two months. And I found somewhere I think would fit very well.”

“Closer to you?”

“Much closer. I could walk to you.”

You’re thinking, but you’re not really thinking. The obvious answer to this is yes, even though it’s hard to just come out and say it. The idea of someone else helping with rent, or helping with anything, is foreign to you. “I would like to be closer to you.”

Seungmin looks at his phone, pulls something up on it, and then slides it to you across the table. “How is something like this?”

You trust Seungmin’s taste and judgement, but you still want to look it over thoroughly. Distance, yes, but also the size, the layout. And you do not have enough windows in this apartment. You’d like more windows. If he’s as serious as he looks, it might as well be worth whatever money you’re both going to put into it.

“How about this one?” You pull up a different listing.

He looks it over, “still very close. Oh, two bedrooms. Maybe the extra space would be nice.”

“It is a little more, sorry (Seungmin shakes his head when you say that), but it has a bathtub instead of just a walk-in shower. And it’s own laundry.”

He laughs, “I could do my laundry faster if I bring it with me. And the kitchen is nicer.”

“I miss having a bathtub.” You hand him his phone back. “But are you sure this isn’t too much? I know you said you were serious—“

“I am…I want you to know that I’m very serious. I think this is a good way to show you. And it’s also very practical.”

“You seemed so unsure before. I just want you to be…good. I want both of us to be good.”

“I’m very good.”

“This is a little crazy, isn’t it? All of this.”

“Yes, it is. I’ll call about it tomorrow.”

“No, I can. Let me do that, at least.”

———

“Minnie?”

Mmhm?

You sat on the couch after dinner, and it didn’t take much time before he had you on your back. He lifts your shirt as far as this position will allow, letting his fingers dance over you—making you squirm a little from how soft his touch is.

Forming the words you want to say is much harder than you thought. They’re dancing around in your head; you’re moving them back and forth, but every way it comes together feels like too much or not enough. Maybe right now just isn’t he time.

“What’s wrong?”

You pull your shorts down, open your legs for him, then shake your head. “Nothing.”

Seungmin reaches down and feels you, slips his fingers inside, then slowly pulls them back out. He smiles against your mouth and pushes in again, just to feel how wet you are. “Are we okay here…are you comfortable?” He asks sweetly. His fingers are still inside, moving delicately.

You nod, but suddenly you remember that you are not good, and you’re not ready. “Shit, no we’re not good. We need a condom this time.”

“Oh right, we should be safe. Tell me where they are,” he adjusts his sweatpants and very carefully lifts himself off of you.”

“In my black bag, under my bed.”

You listen as he slides it out and digs around. The contents of that bag are a mystery, but the condoms you bought back in Chicago, both boxes, have to be in there still. You’re not that bad at unpacking, but if it’s something you don’t use, you’re definitely going to forget I’m about it under there forever.

When he comes back in, he has one in each hand.

“I’m….not sure which one is for me.” His voice seems a little dejected. He’s looking down at them as he approaches you.

“Oh Minnie, they were both for you. I bought these a while ago, when I didn’t know which would fit you better.”

“Oh,” he finally makes eyes contact again. His face softens a little. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay, come here.” You spread your legs again and wait for him, “I’ll put it on for you.”

He crawls back onto the couch, settles between your legs, and opens both hands, palms up, in front of you.

You take the right one and rip it open. Seungmin looks like his mind is suddenly full. His eyes are big and soft.

“Min, what’s on your mind?”

His hands are already on his sweatpants, pulling them down his hips.

“You are.”

You touch him, slide your fingertips down, and then back up. The condom goes on easily. “Does it feel okay?”

He nods and adjusts, makes himself comfortable, and lifts your legs until he has more room. He pushes in a halfway, then leans over until you’re almost nose to nose.

“Minnie?”

“Hmm?” He sets his forehead against yours.

“There’s only you.”

“Just me?” He pushes his nose into yours, “only me?” Pecks at your lips.

“Just us.”

“Only us.” Seungmin pushes the rest of the way in, waits a moment, then begins to fuck you slowly and deeply, “you’re all mine.” He whispers in your ear as he drags his lips over it.

It takes you a second to pull yourself together. Each thrust sends you upward and knocks the breath out of you, but you manage a nod.

“Tell me,” he quickens his pace. The couch shakes the end table, and you can hear the clatter of things falling to the floor. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

It comes out shaky, and it’s not good enough for you. But Seungmin is still smiling. You try again

“I’m yours,” you grab the back of his neck and hold him still, “I only love you.” Your hand grabs hair and pulls—lips close on his before he has a chance to speak.

But he sighs into the kiss. He slows down, and it feels like he’s melting into you more and more with each thrust. What little skin is exposed between the two of you slides together, damp with sweat, and Seungmin kisses every part of you he can get to in the position he’s in.

He tries to get rid of your shirt, but he can’t stop, and he has to stop to make any progress—so you clumsily lift it, and your bra, until you’re free.

His hand slides up your ribs and his fingers graze over you, but for now he just watches how he’s making your body move under him. He seems hypnotized, but eventually he blinks, and then his eyes are fixed on yours again.

The room is quiet—no ambient noise from the tv, no music, nothing. The only sounds are the heavy breaths and soft moans you’re sharing. The condom is slowing him down, keeping him here much longer, and everything feels good in this position; good enough that you’d be satisfied staying like this as long he needs it.

He made you come last time, and now you want to do the same for him.

You lift him off of you until you can see him better.

He looks you in the eyes again, satisfied and smiling. “You feel so good,” he’s back down again, mouth on your chest, kissing down until he can close his lips around your nipple. He licks and works his way back up, stopping at your throat and staying there, his warm breath hitting you. “You love me?”

Your heart jumps. It was already racing, but now you feel it everywhere. In your throat, your chest, your head. You don’t think you’ve ever told anyone that before; not so soon. It’s been a year, but tonight is only the sixth time you’ve seen him and touched him. Everything else has been texts, phone calls, video calls.

It doesn’t matter. You said it because it felt right, and it still feels right.

“Yes.”

Seungmin slows his pace. His exhales turns into a string of soft, dulcet moans. He lifts himself upright and holds your hips as he rolls into you. He comes quietly. You wouldn’t have even realized if you weren’t looking right him.

The satisfied look on his face makes your stomach swirl. You watch Seungmin smile before your eyes close, and you can hear him whisper something to you while you’re coming down from your own high.

He pulls out and carefully brings your legs together.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything, love.” He sits you up next to him and pulls your t-shirt over your head, “I was just…” he pulls you close, “nothing, it’s not important right now.”

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“Yes, I’ll stay.”

———

It’s been a long six weeks. You’re a little stressed out, but you’ve been holding yourself together very well, you think.

This apartment has been your only home for more than three years, so packing your things up and preparing to leave has been a little bit emotional. Almost everything is out of here and all that’s left are a few things you’re taking along on the last car ride.

Before this, everything was moving in slow motion and it was killing you. Now, it won’t slow down. You’re happy, and you’re grateful for everything that Seungmin has done for you…and it’s still sometimes hard to believe he’s doing it all just for you. But it’s so much all at once.

He told you he would stay tonight—your first night there. You haven’t received a text telling you otherwise, so you’re hoping he will be there when you arrive. You do have to remember that you’ll be there alone most of the time, though.

Some things will remain the same.

———

The elevator ride up is long, and you think back to you and Seungmin—your first date, bringing him home with you to your 5th floor apartment, thirty minutes out of the way, just to have him to yourself.

That was probably a good indication that he liked you. You just didn't realize it at the time.

You finally stop at the 17th floor.

The original apartment you looked at was unavailable when you called the next morning, so Seungmin insisted on taking everything into his own hands while you were at work. He knew what you were looking for, but he went overboard.

This apartment has the windows, the bathtub, and laundry room, but it also has double the space—and three bedrooms. When you asked what you were supposed to do with all of the extra room, Seungmin shrugged and said we’ll figure something out.

You don’t even own enough to fill up half of it. Everything that required any sort of muscle; the bed, the living room furniture, it all stayed behind. Most of the things in this apartment are new, or they will be new.

Before you have a chance to explore any further than the kitchen, you hear a very faint, soft knock on the door. You know it’s him and you run to open it, but he punches in a code on the doorknob, turns it, and peeks in before you get there.

“I tried to beat you here.” He smiles.

“You almost did.“

He closes the space between you and pulls you into a hug. “How was your day? Did the movers get everything here?”

“It was alright, and…I think so, but I haven’t gotten any further than this.”

“Just alright? I know it’s been a lot lately.”

“I’m better now that I’m here, and you’re here.” You take his face in your hands and squeeze his cheeks, “let me see, smile.”

Seungmin smiles widely and dramatically, and then bends down to kiss you. “How do I look?”

You pull him back for another one, “still handsome.”

He picks up the bags he walked in with and sets them on the kitchen chair. “I brought us dinner, and a few things to make you feel more at home.” Seungmin is pulling the food out of the bag, piece by piece. “So you didn’t see the bedroom yet?”

“Not yet, why?”

He shakes his head and smiles, “we’ll see it later.”

“What did you bring me?”

“Oh, let’s see!” He starts digging in the other bag.

You watch as he carefully places an assortment of things along side the food. There’s a candle, two candles, a small picture frame, but you can’t see the photo from where you’re standing. A stuffed dog. Another stuffed dog. One of them is Pochacco, the other is a mystery, but he does look familiar.

“That’s all for now but I do have more stuff to bring.”

“Well, we have plenty of space to fill.”

He beams at you, grabs one of the stuffed dogs, and pulls you against him. “This wasn’t mine, but I have one just like it.”

“I like him, he looks like you.”

Seungmin laughs and looks at Daengmo, “yes, he kind of does.”

———

When the sun goes down, and you’re both full and relaxing, you begin to feel even more nostalgic for the conversations you had and the memories you made with him at your old place, on your old couch. You have to work on new memories now.

He’s facing you on the new couch, eyes closed, slow, steady breaths. The flicker of the tv is hitting his face, making his cheek and the soft brown of his hair glow.

Very slowly, you reach your foot out and touch his.

Seungmin’s eyes open, and he gives you a sleepy smile, “how was dinner?”

“Good.” You sit up and move closer to him, “we should go to bed while you’re still sleepy.”

He groans and shrugs his shoulders.

“We gotta go see the bedroom, remember?” You grab his hand and pull a little, and he immediately gives in.

The bedroom is warm and cozy, like it’s already been lived in. You know Seungmin came in at some point and made it this way; the curtains are pulled, the soft amber lights are clicked on, and one of the candles he brought is lit on the bedside table. Both of the stuffed dogs he brought, and your PuppyM, are already laying on top of the pillows.

The bed is made, but not too made. The blankets are loose and fluffed up, ready to crawl into.

“How does it look?” He sounds a little more awake now.

“It looks perfect, come on.”

He shakes his head, “If we don’t brush our teeth now, we will never get back up to do it.” He smiles and kisses you softly.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

———

The lights are off, the candle is out. Seungmin is facing you in bed.

“Are you awake? Did you lose your sleepy?”

“A little.”

He scoots closer until his arm can drape over you. The bedroom is bigger, and the bed is bigger, too. You’re sharing one side just to be close to each other.

“It will come back soon.”

You set your forehead against his chest and feel it move steadily with each breath. It's quiet for a long time, and now sleep is really escaping you. You should be able to relax like this; you’ve shared a bed with him a few times before, and you haven’t slept as well since. And you’re tired—too tired. Maybe too exhausted for sleep.

You wonder if he’s awake, or if he’s quiet because he thinks you’ve finally drifted off.

You run your hand gently over his arm, waiting for a reaction. At first, he doesn’t make a move or a sound, but when you slide your hand back up, he moves his leg against yours.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispers

“Did I wake you?”

“You didn’t.”

“Then no, I can’t sleep.” You prop yourself up on one arm and look down at him. It’s dark, but you can just make out the details of his face.

He flips onto his back and pulls the covers away. “Are you uncomfortable?” Seungmin asks and places his hand on your cheek. He’s warm, his eyes are warm. His mouth parts slowly and turns into a smile. It’s a tired smile. “New bed.”

“New everything.”

“Except for me.”

Your hand closes around his, then you turn your head to place a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “Thank you for being here. I know you’re on a tight schedule.”

Seungmin pulls you down on top of him. His face is in your neck, kissing playfully and lazily, but the way his hands are exploring you is anything but lazy.

“You’re cold,” he stops, wraps his arms around your waist, and holds you there. “You need to be warmed up.”

You get your hands underneath his shirt, “you’re warm enough for both of us.”

“I can share.”

“Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Yes, I would love that,” he laughs softly and disappears in your neck again.

The stupid question bounces around in your head. His warm lips on you are starting to make your head fuzzy, and you wonder if you should just forget it. But now he’ll get it out of you somehow.

“Will you sing for me?”

He pulls back to look at you. Seungmin’s face lights up. It could light up the entire room. “You want me to sing for you?” If he was sleepy at all before, he’s not now. You’ve managed to wake him the rest of the way with a simple, stupid, request. But it wasn’t stupid at all.

“I always have, it just never seemed like a good time.”

“Right now? Should I sing now? Maybe it’s too quiet, and the walls might not be very thick.”

“In the morning?”

He nods, “yes, I’ll sing for you in the morning. What should I sing?”

“Surprise me.”

“We talked about singing together before, remember?”

“I remember,” you wrap around him and pull the covers back up in an attempt to get him sleepy again. “But I’d rather just hear you.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[chaoticbardlady99]

Maryë (Astarion x GN! AFAB Reader) MDNI 18 +

Synopsis: Astarion left to explore the world and himself following the death of the Netherbrain. You remain in Baldur’s Gate with your brother, Gale, resigning yourself to your fate as Astarion’s friend until you die. Until one day, you and Astarion begin to write letters back and forth. Except there is one letter in particular that you suspect isn’t from Astarion…

CW: minimal mentions of violence, smut, Oral (Female Receiving), PIV, Tav’s also just an oblivious idiot who apparently doesn’t think very hard about words (it’s me, I’m Tav the idiot and this is like my Fiancé and I’s friendship prior to ya know, dating lmfao)

Author note- I might also write this in AMAB! Format, but I need to do some… research first for accuracy. This is lightly edited and just some silly little thought I had. I wanted to write something not so detailed for once while I work on my drafts for Lethal Woman and She’s Not Acid Nor Alkaline. Also def stole a line from Tolkien and added to it at the end (this is me crediting).

You’ll either love this or hate this idk.

The title literally translates to Home in Elvish.

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

As always- likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, I am just terrible at responding.

Tav,

As much as I enjoy our current form of communication- I was wondering if I could come to see you in person.

I have so much I need to say to you and I want to be able to do it in person- the proper way.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours,

Astarion

You sit and stare at the letter like you have been doing for the last week since you received it. Unlike your half-brother, Gale, you are not one for words. It was hard to respond to Astarion’s letters initially until Gale “doctored” your responses- often putting whatever silly accomplishment you have achieved lately or stories Gale found interesting from your recent solo adventures.

“Are you going to write the letter or are you hoping it’s going to write itself?” Gale teases.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“I don’t know what to write back.”

“I could come up with a couple things!” Gale clears his throat, “‘ Oh Astarion- I’ve missed you terribly this whole time! I regret telling you that we should be friends until you figure things out! Despite my VERY WISE BROTHER’S ADVICE TO NOT DO THAT! I wait like a lovesick puppy at the mailbox every week hoping a letter may arrive!’”

You roll your eyes at him and throw one of his many decorative couch pillows at his head. He certainly has your mother’s flair for the dramatic. However, you can’t necessarily say he’s wrong- you have been nothing less than a smitten school girl waiting for letters non-stop.

Astarion had gone back to the Underdark after the last battle with the Netherbrain. He told you that he wanted to go and explore who he is- the world too.

You had been as enthusiastic as you could about the decision considering you had come up to him at the party with a letter in your hands asking if he would like to continue traveling with you after this- you had been too scared to say it outloud. A part of you hoped it may allow your romance to blossom without the impending threat of death at every corner. Well, if he still harbored any feelings for you at all.

You had merely smiled and told him how excited you are for him. It answered the silent question that had been there- was there still room in Astarion’s heart for you after you said you should just be friends and try again later?

The answer was ‘no’, despite Gale’s perplexed face and lecture when he found out you gave the spawn a send off with a ‘long’ hug (he made you describe it in detail). You refuse to give yourself any hope- you will remain a dutiful friend since you resigned yourself to this fate.

Then you received a Sending spell with him requesting your address and the letters began. You squealed like a schoolgirl when the first one came in and ripped it open enthusiastically. You didn’t realize Gale was home, otherwise you wouldn’t have read it out in the open- Tara snitched on you!

You had only truly met Gale around a couple months prior to your mutual abduction. Your mother had asked you to assist a brother you never knew about in finding magical artifacts- you quickly learned it was because the man was becoming a damn recluse.

You had worried he’d slam the door in your face or turn you into a sheep for all of eternity- the minute you told him your name was Tav Dekarios, he pulled you in for a hug and told you he had been awaiting your arrival. Gale was thrilled to know that, like him, you were also a prodigy in your craft.

You are a virtuoso master with any instrument you touch and you cast spells that are almost far too good to be true. You became Oghma’s Chosen in your teen years after spending many years practicing under his mentorship (which is why you and Gale had a very weird, serious talk one night about how Mystra is kind of a fucking pedophile) and that allowed you to do incredible things.

Your notes could create shimmery images and tell stories- Arabella and the other tiefling children (even the very tough Mol) enjoy coming over and watching war tales be told with nothing but a drum and a rain stick. Sometimes you let them tell tales and you come up with a tune to match it- eventually finding a rhythm to put your mind into and create the picture.

It was one of the many things Astarion mentioned in his note- he stated that none of the other Bards even begin to hold a candle to your talent. You blushed deeply when you read the line.

He told you about everything he had seen, everyone he had met, what he’s found out about himself, and shockingly enough- how much he misses you. It had taken you by total surprise, but you responded saying you missed him too.

Pet names began to flow easily into inked lines and it felt like you had a tiny part of him back in your life- your friendship is still as strong as it was before he left.

The letters have quickly become the best part of your week and occasionally you’ll read them with Arabella. She ooos and awwws, then attempts to bully you into tell Astarion your feelings. You cast a mini rain shower over her head with a few poetic words for the suggestion. You don’t want to ruin what you have and there is always the possibility that he found someone else.

However, you weren’t unsure of this particular note because you didn’t want to see Astarion- you would love that. The issue is that it doesn’t look like his handwriting, it isn’t the paper he uses (he’s ridiculously particular), and it doesn’t flow. Gale thinks you are over analyzing it, but you are pretty sure that this isn’t Astarion’s writing. He also addresses you as “Darling” not Tav and signs the letter of with “‘Órenya ná órelya” (my heart is your heart) not “Yours”.

You’ve waited for another note to come in since, but nothing has. You are beginning to wonder if Gale is right and you really are just being paranoid.

“I already told you, Gale,” you say with annoyance, “something isn’t right about this note. I don’t think this is from him which is worrisome because that means I haven’t heard from him in two weeks WHICH could MEAN-“

“For the love of Gods- TAV,” Gale yells, effectively shutting you up, “my young, oblivious little sibling. Just say yes and let him come visit.”

*********************************************************

It had been two days since you sent the sending stone and there was no response. Not that it would have mattered anyway considering you are somewhere in the Underdark in a very beautifully lit cave. Neon, blue veins of magic run through the rock. The pathway is lit with glowing flowers and…. Benches?

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the market and the next- Astarion had come up to you from an alleyway and said he needed help. He had told you that he would love to catch up, but there is an injured child around the corner and since he can only stay in the shadows, he needs you to help them. Before you knew it- someone hit you with a sleep spell and the last thing you remember seeing is stars as your head slammed into the pavement. Oh and a, “oooooffff my bad” before you blacked out.

You blink your eyes a few more times, trying to figure out what in the wretched hells is going on.

“Oh for the love of- I told you to talk to Oghma’s Chosen! Not kidnap her and give her a serious concussion!”

A hazy, short figure comes into your vision. Is that…. a Deep Gnome?

“You told us it was imperative for the wedding! We intercepted the real letter and wrote this one,” another Gnome says, “and it worked! They showed up and everything! We’ve been watching since you told us to talk to her two weeks ago! We were running out of time for talking and bargaining so we just-“

“Kidnapped them!” the man yells, “you kidnapped them!? You- you imbeciles! They are supposed to want to perform for the wedding- you had at least six more hours! AND I GAVE YOU TWO WEEKS!”

“But Walby-“

Walby.

You know Walby! He and Barcus have been dating for a while now and the two are over the moon smitten. You are very happy for Barcus- this man is everything Wulbern could never be.

“No! I have had enough of your silliness! Leave me at once!”

You hear the three Gnomes that supposedly ambushed you walk off in angry huffs. A flash of healing magic fills the air and your head is finally clear- your ears no longer ringing like a triangle.

“My apologies, Ms.Dekarios,” Walby, says, “I wanted them to give you an invitation to come to Barcus’ and I’s wedding this afternoon, but as you heard, they are not the brightest bunch.

“It’s a very last minute ceremony- my mother is ill and she wants to see her ‘baby’ get married before she goes. We wanted to wait another year to plan, but oh you know how it goes!”

Walby looks at you sheepishly as you blink a few more times and let his words sink in. You look at the man and try not to throw up from sitting upright. You must have been out for a while, but not in a “oh that was a wonderful beauty nap” kind of way. You are pretty sure you have a decent amount of blood caked to the side of your head and neck right now.

“Oh, well in that case,” you offer a good natured smile, “I’ll consider this the most unique wedding invitation I’ve ever received and one I may not even have the privilege of remembering.”

The man laughs heartily as you stand up and brush your clothing off. You’re glad you wore a nicer outfit today and decided to bring your violin along- Oghma must have wanted to make sure you were prepared.

“I also wanted to ask a favor,” he says meekly, “if I haven’t fallen out of your good graces before I even stepped foot in them- that is.”

You smile and just roll your eyes.

“Consider it water under the bridge. How can I be of service?”

“Well, you see- we had asked an acquaintance of ours to play music and uh. There’s no easy way to put this, but he was run over by a herd of Deep Rothé.”

“Hmm,” you say with a snort, “tough crowd- Deep Rothés.”

Ultimately, you agreed to perform for the ceremony and the little dinner party afterwards. Your music decorated the air with golds and silvers. Barcus was thrilled to have you there and thanked you immensely for allowing his mother-in-law to “witness true magic” before she leaves this plane.

By the time you were finally leaving- you hear two very familiar voices scream your name and come barreling towards you.

*****************************************

Astarion and Gale are practically sprinting as they try to track your location through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. They had just found a large spot of your blood sticking to the cobblestone and leading to the sewer. Astarion feels sick when he notices the path leads back into the Crimson Palace. Thankfully it was through the sewer and straight to the tunnel of the Underdark.

He had sent you a letter a few days ago and he had confessed his feelings. Instead of waiting for you to respond like a sane person, Astarion got the hell out of the inn he was staying at and began the four day trek to Baldur’s Gate. The nice part about traveling alone and not needing to breath is that Astarion could run from place to place if he was in a hurry or was just fed up with traveling already.

Astarion quickly learned that it was boring to be alone and it’s far more fun to share adventures with you. He also learned that he might be a semi-decent person on his own because, in spite of being without your physical presence, he continues to fucking help people. Astarion is really over this whole moral compass thing (it only extends so far though, he’s still a proud Bastard at heart).

When he arrived at your home about an hour and a half ago, Gale had informed him that you had gone out to the Market and was confused when Astarion said his letter shouldn’t have arrived yet. It took longer than usual to write for… reasons.

Gale showed him the note you received and the two of them pieced together that someone had definitely set up a trap- just not a very good one. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose when Gale told him that you definitely figured out the letter wasn’t from him, but Gale encouraged you to respond anyway.

A part of him is incredibly worried that some of the remaining Bhaal cultists have taken you since they are the only people he could think of that would be able to mimic his form. His stomach still turns when he thinks about the time they realized Orin had taken you. This is giving him the same queasy feeling.

So imagine his and Gale’s surprise when you are walking away from some random spot seemingly unscathed. Except Astarion won’t believe that until he has inspected you for injuries himself.

You look positively shell-shocked to see him and even more surprised when he’s taking your face gently in his hands and begins to check for injuries.

“Are you alright, Darling?” He says in a far more panicked voice than he means to, “we found blood- I thought the worst and your idiot brother! Of course that letter wasn’t from me! I have class, my Dear! I would never use that paper and WHY IN THE HELLS WOULD YOU FOLLOW ME OF ALL PEOPLE!?”

He knows his ‘rage’ doesn’t sound like rage- it sounds like a man who thought his only love had been on the brink of death only moments ago. Astarion is trying to keep a serious face, but the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at him is making him want to dissolve. He’s thrilled to see that after a whole year of not being together that your feelings haven’t waivered. Neither have his, obviously, but that’s why he’s here.

“I will say, Tav,” Gale says with exasperation, “you even gave Tara a fright- you should be expecting a very long lecture when we get home.”

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you say with a beaming smile, your eyes never leaving Astarion’s, “but I do have quite the story if you would like to hear it?”

Astarion’s grin stretches across his entire face.

“I think a good story, better company, and some wine would make for a fine evening, my Dear.”

“Gross!” Gale says, “but I’ll tag along for some wine.”

Oh dammit.

****************************

If Astarion wasn’t so busy feasting upon you- then he probably would have already hunted down those stupid Gnomes that gave him a fright and found a windmill to fling them from. Gale had left only 15 minutes ago, but Astarion had made quick work in getting you up to his room and having his way with you.

The minute Gale left, the conversation became flirty and teasing- all the want that has been pooling in his body is finally getting the release it needs. You, like always, are a sight to behold.

Your back arches when his tongue drags along your clit and Astarion pushes your hips down into the mattress as your arousal paints his lips. Your moans and desperate cries of pleasure are so delicious and his cock is painfully hard, straining against his leather pants.. He is fighting between taking his time and being selfish- chasing his own pleasure inside of you.

The moment you clench around his fingers is the same moment he unlaces his own pants and begins to remove them. You keen and whine underneath him- Astarion’s name sounds the best coming from you in this state.

Astarion should be a gentleman, hypothetically, and maybe give you a half a second to be a little less dazed from your orgasm. Except Astarion isn’t a gentleman and he isn’t patient- at all.

Astarion lifts your hips up to his until the head of his cock is aligned with your entrance and he thrusts himself inside of you. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips with a yelp of pleasure and your eyes flutter wildly as you take his whole length. Astarion smiles down at you as he slowly rocks in and out of you.

Your fingers find their way to his hair and you pull Astarion’s face down to yours- stunning him with a mind numbing kiss. He snaps his hips at the sensation and the moan you let out causes whatever resolve he had to break. Astarion releases the hold you have on his lips and kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“Did you like that, my Love?”

You hum in approval and try to pull his mouth back to yours. He interrupts you by thrusting into you two more times with more power than the first one.

“Asta-,,” you attempt to say his name between thrusts, “Astarion please.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Pet,” he teases, “I don’t even know if I know what you like anymore- maybe you don’t even like thi-“

Your legs tighten around his hips as he goes to pull completely out of you. Astarion quirks his eyebrow at you with a smirk as you look at him with desperation.

“I more than liked it- I loved it,” you whisper with your cheeks burning from your shyness.

Oh and how Astarion loves your shyness. His hands fist the sheets as he starts his agonizingly slow rhythm inside of you again- whimpers falling from deep within your chest.

“See, Darling,” Astarion says as his face falls into the crook of your neck, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before Astarion’s hips begin to pick up speed and his mouth covers yours. As much as he loves to hear you moan- he doesn’t care to share that experience with any of the patrons that had been obviously checking you out while you were catching up.

Astarion groans against your lips as he continues to fuck you relentlessly- his fangs nip at your lower lip and lap at the tiny droplets of blood that seep from the punctures.

You are a mess underneath him and you feel incredible in every way possible. Astarion never wanted this to stop in the first place- back when he had told you his feelings and you said it would be best to be friends for the time being.

Perhaps that’s what causes him to slow down and kiss you deeply- making up for the lack of speed with more force. One of his hands trails along your chest and begins to tease your sensitive nipples- your walls clench around him hard when he begins to pinch and roll the right one and your orgasm coats him as he moves to play with the left.

You kiss him sloppily and he’s lazily thrusting into you- his own Little Death following yours within seconds. Astarion collapses on top of you as he begins to soften inside of you. The smell of you and him mixed together is intoxicating and your heartbeat is hammering from the pleasure- your eyes glassy and tired with bliss. He laughs breathily before placing a kiss on your swollen lips.

Astarion lifts you up ever so slightly so that he can pull the blanket down and over you, then he adjusts himself and you so that you are curled up with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair absentmindedly and you lightly draw shapes on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you say sleepily, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Astarion says while pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m happy to be home.”

“Oh I’m sure Baldur’s Gate is-“

“You are my home,” Astarion interrupts you, “I’ve come to realize that wherever you are is where I want to be.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and happiness in your heart.

“But what about exploring your new life and all of that jazz?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for you,” Astarion states, “you helped me kill Cazador and break the cycle of ongoing abuse. You gave me life so I could live it and I want to live it with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just being friends and holding back my feelings. I want to share my life with you.

“I know this may all seem very fast, but” Astarion grabs his pants off the ground and he feels his stomach turn as he pulls the box out of his pocket, “I know I love you- that’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my entire 239 years of existence. I- I wanted to know if you would… marry me?”

Your lips are on his within seconds and the two of you become entangled in soft kisses until you have to pull back for air. You lean your forehead against his and meet his gaze.

“I love you so much, Astarion. Yes- yes I will marry you,” you say tearfully, “I want to share my life with you too.”

[2baabbies]

🖤 Summer in Winter (faerie!felix x human!reader)

I’ve been working on drafts of this since last October so I think it’s just time to post it lol

Words: 4200

Summary: Felix visits often, but is usually gone when you wake up in the morning. Wouldn't it be nice if he stayed?

Fantasy + Fluff + Smut + Humour

afab + fem!reader

CWs: none really, maybe pining?, implied scary fae lore but not elaborated on

Smut Tags: use of pet names, confessions during sex, chatty sex, light teasing, fingering, praise, so kissy and cuddly waaa, some dry humping, cunnilingus, reader is desperate af/slight begging, Penetration™️ (p in v), unprotected sex (practice safe sex pleeeease), creampie

@bookswillfindyouaway @rixenluv

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

Perhaps it should feel abnormal to welcome the fae into your home, knowing the warning tales you grew up with as a child, but it does not. Especially when it is Felix. He was the first to find you when you moved into this new town- the first you trusted- and he only makes his presence more apparent once the cold winter hits. His visits become more intimate than they were in the warmer seasons, when he would linger at the edge of the treeline and watch you garden until you left a gift for him near the brush. Now when he visits he comes right to the door, asks to be let in, then sits and chats with you late into the night. Sometimes he is there when you wake up, puttering around the kitchen or reading in the living room. Sometimes he is not, and your gut sinks just a bit.

There is no name for your relationship, but you feel the tension building all the same. Felix, always a gentleman, sleeps on the living room couch when he stays over. But the unsaid ‘what if’ lingers in your mind at the end of each night, when you curl up alone in your own bed after long conversations by the fireplace. You try to stay awake and listen for his footsteps on his way out, but you never do hear them. 

One night, hours after you have retreated to your room for bed, you use the excuse of needing a drink of water to see if he has left yet. You are slightly surprised to see him still on the couch, his eyes shut and his breathing slow as if he is in a deep sleep.

Your heartbeat quickens as you look him over, you note how the moonlight catches the softness of his lips and the highlights in his golden hair. His pointed ears and nimble fingers twitch when the floorboards creak as you creep into the room. His freckles and delicate cheeks still charm you even if they are barely visible in the dim light. His eyes open slowly as he turns his head to look at you; lazily, eyelids half-lidded to give the impression that he was truly sleeping, but his sudden awareness breaks the façade.

“Can’t sleep, darling?”

His voice is gentle and a little deeper than normal, which rumbles you in a pleasant way.

“I’m thirsty.”

“Ah, let me.”

He rises from his spot and gracefully steps out of the room. You remain where you stand, waiting as you hear the glasses clink and the tap run. He returns and regards you calmly as you blink the sleep away.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

He guides a glass of water into your hand and tidies your hair where it was mussed by your pillow.

“I’m fine.”

You sip your water as he hums quietly.

“You just look like you have something to say.”

“When do you go back to the forest?”

He cups your cheek with a soft smile.

“When I know you’re asleep, and safe.”

“You don’t have to wait for me to fall asleep, you know. You can leave whenever you want.”

“But wouldn’t you be disappointed?”

Your cheeks flare as you feel caught.

“Does that matter?”

“It wouldn’t to some.”

Your heart skips.

“But it does to you?”

“Of course.”

“You really don’t have to stay, Felix.”

“I know, but I have to know you’re alright. I’ll just keep thinking about you if I leave now.”

His response may as well be a confession with the way Felix says it, and you do not know how to react. You blink a few times, suddenly sure you must be dreaming or hallucinating this. His warm hand on your cheek, caressing you gently, reminds you that this is real. 

“You will?”

It is all you can manage and your voice quivers out at the end of the question. You shiver and let him take the glass from your hand. Perhaps you are both nervous that you will drop it with how shaky his words have made you.

“You should get back in bed, sweetheart.”

You nod and let him lead you back to your bedroom. He sets the glass down as you crawl into your bed. You gaze up at him in the dark, feeling him pull your blanket up and tuck you in.

“Felix?”

“Yes?”

“Will you lay with me?”

He pauses as he contemplates your request.

“I’m cold,” You add, desperate to convince him.

“It is cold, isn’t it?”

You say nothing as Felix lifts the blanket and slides in beside you, but feel a bit of pride that he accepted your invitation. You try not to dive into his arms as they come around you, try to restrain yourself from melting immediately when you breathe in his fresh summer scent. He lays his head on the pillow next to you and, very loosely, embraces you. The position is a little awkward, but you are too embarrassed to move any closer.

“You avoided my question earlier,” You murmur into the pillow, half-hoping he ignores you.

“Hm, what was the question, darling?”

“Do you really think about me when you leave?”

You shut your eyes, your face feels on fire.

“Oh, always.”

“Always?”

Felix sighs softly and whispers, “I can’t think about anything else sometimes. It’s… difficult.”

“Why?”

“Because… I can’t help but fret over you. I wonder if you’re eating, and if you’re sleeping. I wonder who you are seeing. I wait helplessly when you go far away. I worry something wicked will find you, you sweet thing. And to be worrying like that all the time, it can make a faerie weak.”

You open your eyes and meet Felix’s gaze, longing and tired as he watches you.

“Oh.”

“Yes. Always on my mind. Isn’t it shameful?”

“Why would you be ashamed?”

“Doesn’t it make you feel ashamed?”

You swallow.

“Not because… I think those feelings are wrong. Well, actually, that’s a lie,” You laugh breathlessly, “My whole life I’ve been told how dangerous your kind is, and not to let myself get trapped in fae magic. And love is a sort of trap, right? It’s vulnerability, it’s deals and promises, and in theory I should be wary. But I’m already so far gone, so what am I holding back from? But I don’t necessarily think these feelings are bad or want them to stop. God, I never want this to stop. I’m so happy with you. I just don’t know. I don’t know what to say, and I know I’ll say something that will make me more anxious because…”

You trail off as you notice Felix watching you with wide eyes.

“Because of this. Because I’ll run my mouth and regret it afterwards,” You finish.

“Oh,” Felix answers carefully, “You think wanting me would be wrong. Because you’re a human.”

“No, I-I don’t. I don’t care if it’s right or wrong, I just… I get embarrassed because I don’t know how to make it make sense to both of us. I can’t speak in front of you.”

“You’re speaking right now.”

You laugh at his teasing lilt.

“Yeah, and making a fool of myself.”

“Well, then you understand my predicament.”

“I don’t.”

“The feeling you’re describing now, this fear you have, I feel it every day when I leave you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. And it is so, so relentless.”

He continues to stare, patiently awaiting your reply. You shudder at the intensity in his eyes and they soften, before he pulls you closer.

“Are you still cold, my darling?”

You tense as he pulls you in. Your head comes to his chest and he slips his thigh between your legs. Your bodies curl together and his arms hold you a little tighter, with more certainty than before. You shakily squeeze him back, but the closeness is not what makes you shiver.

My darling. 

The alteration to your pet name is intentional.

“Felix?”

“Yes?”

“Do you…”

He chuckles and your lips shut tightly.

“Yes?”

“Do you feel the same way?”

“I do.”

“Can you kiss me?”

He pulls back to look down where your head rests on his chest, and you look up.

“I could kiss you. That is certainly within my abilities.”

“You’re- ugh.”

You both laugh as he presses his forehead to yours. You begin to realize how warm he is, how every spot where your body touches his is soothed. His magic seeps into your body, making your chest tighten and stomach flip. The heat is almost too much, almost burning, but you refuse to move away. Everything intensifies when the laughter dies down and he finally kisses you.

His mouth moves slowly against yours, giving you time to register the contact and adjust to it. Your thighs tense as you press closer, and you feel his thigh move just a bit higher to put some pressure between your legs. You gasp and he breaks away, enough so you can both pant into the space between you. You duck your head as your cheeks heat up again and he gives you an experimental nudge. You barely muffle a moan in his shoulder.

“Sweetheart, how does that feel?”

You try not to rut yourself on his thigh but he pushes against you again, and you instinctively roll your hips to chase the pleasure.

“A-Ahn, nice,” You cry softly.

“Nice?”

You bite your lip and look up pitifully as he leans back to take you in.

“Mh-hmnn…”

“Oh, you are precious.”

You whimper at his tone, somehow sounding both enamored with you yet taunting your reactions.

“I haven’t…”

“Hm?”

“H-haven’t b-been touched in a while…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” He coos, “Would you like me to help with that?”

You nod and shakily exhale. He smiles and pulls his leg from between yours to replace it with his hand. You make a wrecked sound as his palm presses through your pants to cup your pussy. You whine and throw your head back as he rolls his wrist and spreads your legs wider.

“Fe-elix…”

He makes a pleased sound and, very chastely, kisses the dip of your throat. This draws a longing moan from you.

“Lovely little thing. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since I met you, you know? Not a day that I’m not thinking about you. You’re so much trouble.”

“M’sorry,” You moan.

“Mhm, are you? Does it not excite you a bit, to have me in the palm of your hand?”

You laugh at the irony as he draws his hand away.

“I-I didn’t know…”

“Oh, I know,” He breathes as he brushes his hand over your abdomen, “My sweet girl.”

You moan in agreement as he slips his hand down your pants and beneath your panties. His middle finger brushes over your clit then he curls the first digit between your folds. You jolt at the intrusion and tuck your face in his neck as he lovingly pets your hair. Soft sounds escape your lips as his finger carefully swirls inside you.

“M’sensvmmm…”

“Hm, darling?”

You buck your hips and whimper as he finally thrusts his finger to the hilt.

“M’sensitive…”

“I know, sweetheart. You like it though, right? Feels good?”

“Mh-hmn…”

You are adjusting to his touch now, and begin rocking your hips as he adds another finger. He presses a kiss to your temple and cups the back of your head as he begins thrusting his fingers faster. You tense under his touch, becoming more wound up as he settles into a rhythm. You make a desperate sound when he spreads his fingers open and grazes his thumb over your clit.

“Felix,” You sigh, “Oh, Fe-elix…”

He chuckles and noses at your scalp as you press closer.

“You sound lovely, my darling. So good for me.”

Something snaps when he speaks and your climax hits you suddenly. Your body shudders from the intensity as he coaxes you through it with quick pecks and careful attention on your clit. You take in a gasping breath before his lips crash into yours, swallowing up your sounds of pleasure. His touch slows, but does not stop, as your legs tremble and you become boneless in his arms. He breaks the kiss and smiles as you whimper and twitch against him.

“Nhnnn…”

“Good?”

You nod sleepily as he finally slides his hand out of your pants. He gives his fingers an experimental lick and smirks as you throw your head back with a groan.

“You’re too much…”

“Hm, get some sleep, my love.”

Your head snaps back and he pecks your forehead as you stare blankly at him.

“Hey, w-wha-”

“Hm?”

“Um, we’re going to bed after doing that, are you kidding me?”

He chuckles.

“You’re not tired?”

“You’re not… horny?”

Felix laughs and blushes as you pout at him. He swipes his thumb over your hip as he speaks.

“I have patience, darling. I waited this long for a moment to lay next to you, I’m sure I can wait a bit longer.”

You huff as you move to straddle his hips. He lets you shove him to the bed and stares up expectantly as you settle on top of him.

“What if you don’t have to wait?”

His eyebrow cocks up and his eyes rake over your body.

“Impatient, are we?”

You give your hips a tentative roll and bite your lip to muffle the whimpering gasp that threatens to spill out. Your clit is still throbbing, but your desire outweighs your sensitivity. You grind down again and smirk as you draw a groan from him. His hands fly to your hips and hold you in place as he bucks up to meet your thrusts. You giggle as you lean down to kiss him, which he returns eagerly. You lean away with a smirk.

You squeal when he flips you over and dives in to kiss you again, nibbling at your lips and peppering your face with sweet pecks. Delight bubbles in your chest as your abdomen swirls with desire. His hips are pressing against yours so you can feel his cock strain through his pants and the contact makes your head spin. He nuzzles his nose against yours and smirks at your moans.

“Do you want me, sweetheart?”

He pulls back slightly to look at you. You blink dazedly, still feeling drunk on your last orgasm and the heat of him on top of you. You spread your legs wider to let him press closer, which he does. You nod as you throw your arms over his shoulders.

“Of course, Felix. Do you want me?”

“I do,” He murmurs, “Every touch. Every kiss. Every moment. I want to take care of your every desire.”

“My desire is that you fuck me.”

He laughs.

“I will… do that, yes. I’m more than happy to…”

You laugh at how his usual eloquence has dissolved into sultry rambling, and draw him in for another kiss. You part your lips and he laps into your mouth, his hips jumping at the moans you let out. He slides your pants and panties down, allowing you to shimmy them off. You start to pull your shirt off and pause when he begins kissing down your neck, to your stomach, and lower below the blanket until he stops between your legs. You fling your shirt away and make a wrecked noise as his tongue slips between your folds.

“Mhm, Felix…”

You melt as he laps at your sex and hum his name shamelessly. He groans in response, vibrating your clit and drawing another wrecked sound from you. You whisper his name and try to stifle the crescendo of needy sounds he pulls from you to no avail. Suddenly, he stops and pops up from under the blanket. Your disappointed moan trails off into a fit of giggles as you take in his disheveled appearance. His hair has been fluffed up by the blanket that now hangs loosely off his shoulders. He blinks back at you, trying to decipher your reaction.

“Are you alright?”

“Come here.”

You pull him in for a kiss and taste yourself on his tongue when it slips into your mouth. He sighs when you reach down to unbutton his pants and wrench them down so his cock springs free. He breaks the kiss to mouth messy bites over your jawline and throat. You giggle and tilt your head back to ease his access, while one of your hands slips under his shirt and traces his abdomen lazily.

“Felix, come on,” You whine when he lingers on sucking a hickey into your shoulder, “Come on, please.”

“Remember when I called you impatient, my darling?”

You huff and smile wryly as he rises to pull his shirt off and fully remove his bottoms. He kneels between your legs, his cock standing hard against his stomach. You tsk softly and pull him into your embrace, lovingly cupping his cheeks as he sinks on top of you. He beams and brushes his nose against yours shyly.

“I haven’t been fair to you, have I?”

“I’m in no rush,” He breathes, his eyes fluttering as his cock presses against your soft skin, “Y-You’re always fair to me.”

“Are you okay?”

“Mh-hmn,” He pecks another kiss on your cheek.

“You’re sure?”

“I just love you so much.”

You freeze at the confession, staring through the dim light as Felix peppers kisses down your neck. You grasp his cheeks and pull him up to face you, he stares back with a surprised expression.

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course,” His brows furrow, “Of course I do.”

“You promise?”

He breaks free from your grasp to peck a needy kiss to your lips, then murmurs, “I couldn’t lie if I wanted to.”

“Lix,” You whine, “Please, I really need you. Fuck me.”

He laughs softly as he resumes kissing over your face and hooks his arms under your thighs, then slowly eases into you. You gasp as he fills you and your eyes shut in bliss when his cock presses deeper. A whimper escapes your lips as he slowly pulls out and lazily pushes in again. You open your eyes to see him studying your reactions, his lips parted in shuddery groans with each calculated thrust.

“Felix... Felix, oh my God…”

He kisses you, messily, open-mouthed and desperate as he draws another moan from you. You let him lick into your mouth and nibble your bottom lip as your mind goes hazy.

“That good, darling?”

“Ye-es…”

He chuckles and leans back to let you breathe, still thrusting intentionally.

“My lovely girl. You look so good like this, my darling. I love it, I love you. Wanted this since the moment I met you.”

“Mh-hm?”

You let your head fall back as his pace quickens. Somehow your hands have managed to find his arms where they support your thighs and you grip his biceps tightly. He makes a pleased sound and presses closer, pushing your legs up to thrust deeper inside you. You whimper as the tension builds and you hear your own wetness dripping around his cock.

“Oh, love, my love,” He sighs against your chest as he rests his forehead in the crook of your neck.

You make a giddy sound when you feel his hips stutter.

“So good, Felix. I love you.”

He nods and nuzzles closer.

“J-Just about… there. Oh, darling, please.”

You giggle when his movements pause again.

“That’s- ah- perfect, Lix. You gonna come? Come on. I want you to, want you to come i-inside.”

He nods and continues with as many shaky thrusts as he can manage. He pushes in and pants into your neck as he finishes. You whimper at the sensation and squirm for some stimulation as he presses you into the bed. He drops one of your legs and reaches his hand between you to play with your clit. You whimper and look at him as he chases after your lulling high. His cock is still nestled between your folds when you reach your orgasm, and he groans when you clench around him. He gazes into your eyes lovingly as he rubs you through each wave of pleasure, until you begin to whimper from the overstimulation.

“Felix…”

His hand slowly draws back and he gives you a deep kiss as he pulls out.

“Mhm, sorry. You were so lovely, darling. I didn’t want to stop.”

Your legs quake as you let them fall, while Felix kisses your forehead.

“Oh, Felix.”

He laughs and presses his forehead to yours with a cheeky grin.

“My, you really are sensitive. What a shame you haven’t been touched, you needed it.”

“Hah, you- mhm…”

He lets you recover from your orgasm with long, doting kisses to your lips and cheeks. You sink into the bed with a blissed out smile as his hands coast over your stomach and thighs.

“Still good, darling?”

“With you? Always.”

He chuckles.

“Always? That’s what I like to hear.”

“Don’t get too cocky.”

“Why not? Telling me you’re not satisfied? Please, feel free to speak your mind.”

“You didn’t last very long,” You tease.

“Neither did you.”

Felix winks and pecks your forehead before settling down next to you. You roll into his arms as he pulls your thigh over his hip and fixes the blanket over you both. You rest your hand on his chest where his heart is still pattering and feel your own swell with affection.

“Next time,” You decide.

“Hm?”

“Next time we’ll take it slower.”

“So, there will be a next time?”

You giggle.

“Of course,” You gaze up at him dreamily, “You’re not done with me already, are you?”

It is supposed to be a joke, but you cannot help but worry.

“Darling,” He whispers, but it sounds like the air has been punched out of him as he gazes back at you, “I will never be done with you.”

You shiver as his hand rests over yours and he kisses the bridge of your nose.

“Oh.”

“I promise, I meant it. Since the moment I met you, I knew we belonged together. And I was right.”

Your eyes tear up a bit and you nod quickly.

“I guess I just… I didn’t know if love meant the same thing to you that it does for me…”

His eyes soften and he pauses to search for the proper response.

“Maybe not, but I know with all of my being that I love you more than I can bear. Even harder when you love me back.”

“Felix.”

“Because it hurts me so much to be away from you, and I want nothing more than to spend everyday with you like I am right now, I think it’s safe to say I want to be yours.”

You nod and sniffle.

“I want to be yours, too.”

“Always?”

“Always. I promise.”

He smiles.

“You know the fae aren’t ones to go back on our promises.”

“I know. I’m not either.”

His thumb glides over the back of your hand in soothing strokes as you finally drift to sleep.

When you wake the next morning you are alone, and for a moment your heart aches. You sit up slowly in the early light and sigh as you listen to the howling of winter winds and firewood crackling in the living room. Your brow furrows slightly and you move to get out of bed, then you pause when you realize you are dressed in your pajamas. You are feeling the soft linen and questioning when you were dressed last night, when your bedroom door opens.

Felix eyes you with shock when he sees you are awake and hurriedly comes to your side.

“Oh, darling. Did I wake you?”

You watch him intently as he sits beside you and pulls the blanket up to your chest.

“It’s still quite cold, love. Go on, you can go back to sleep. The fire is just building up now.”

“Felix.”

“Hm?”

He is rubbing your arm gently, spreading warmth over you like a second outside of the blanket will leave you frozen.

“You stayed.”

He pauses then looks at you with some relief.

“Oh… I did.”

“You… didn’t have to.”

You let him crawl in beside you and tuck the blanket around you both. He rests his head on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair.

“I think we’ve been over this, yeah? You don’t like it when I leave.”

“I know, but you usually go when I fall asleep.”

“Yes,” He leans up to look at you, “That doesn’t mean I have to leave when you fall asleep, does it?”

“No.”

“Then I’m going to stay.”

He smiles and rests his head on your chest again, snuggling in with a content hum. Your fingers play with the hairs at the base of his neck as you stare at the ceiling.

“Felix?”

“Hm?”

“How long will you stay?”

He hums.

“As long as I can. But don’t worry, my love, I’ll come back.”

You smile and let your eyes fall shut as you fall asleep in his embrace.

“Always?”

“Always.”

“I love you, Felix.”

“I love you, my darling. So very much.”

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Between The Ropes… a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 10: Intensity

Themes Warning: S*x described.

Damian sat on the couch in the living room of the suite, a half-empty bottle of water resting on his knee, his mind drifting as he stared blankly at the TV. The tension in the air was suffocating, his thoughts circling the chaos that had unfolded in the last few days. He was loyal to Rhea, no matter how deep this mess ran. But he couldn't deny how heavy it all felt now—Jey, Rhea, the push, everything. He leaned forward, running a hand over his face.

The door creaked open, pulling Damian out of his thoughts. His head snapped toward the entrance as Jey and Rhea walked in together, side by side. There was something different about them—something raw and unsettled, like they’d crossed an invisible line. Jey’s hand hovered at Rhea’s lower back, almost protective, and the air between them crackled with unresolved tension.

Rhea’s eyes flickered to Damian, and she took a breath before speaking. “I know it was you,” she said, her voice low but steady. “I know you told Hunter everything.”

Jey’s jaw clenched beside her, but he didn’t say anything, his gaze fixated on the floor as if grounding himself for what was to come.

Damian nodded, his expression unreadable as he set the water bottle aside. “I did,” he admitted. “I couldn’t sit by and say nothing anymore. You deserve better than this mess.”

Rhea’s lips pressed together for a moment before softening. “I… I want to thank you for saying something.” Her words were genuine, and Damian could see the turmoil behind her eyes—the storm of emotions she was barely keeping at bay. “If you hadn’t, maybe we wouldn’t have gotten to this point.”

Jey shifted uncomfortably, but his hand didn’t move from Rhea’s back. Damian noticed, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he exhaled slowly and gave Rhea a small nod.

“I’ve always got your back, Rhea. You know that.” His voice was firm, solidifying his loyalty to her above anything else.

Jey finally looked up, his eyes meeting Damian’s with a tension that hadn’t quite dissipated. “We’re gonna talk about our future,” Jey said, his voice rough, like the words had been scraped out of him. “Figure out what we’re doing… with everything.”

The weight of what he didn’t say hung in the air like a cloud—Her marriage, his marriage, the choices they would both have to make.

Damian studied them for a moment, taking in the gravity of the situation. His loyalty was pledged to Rhea, but he could see this was a conversation he didn’t need to be present for.

He sighed and stood up, grabbing his jacket from the arm of the chair. “I’ll leave you two to it,” Damian said, shrugging his jacket on. “I’ll spend the night with Kayden. You both need the space.”

Rhea’s eyes softened with gratitude, and she gave Damian a nod. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jey said nothing, but Damian didn’t expect him to. He knew the mess between Jey and Rhea ran deeper than anything he could untangle.

With a final glance at the both of them, Damian headed for the door, his heavy footsteps fading away into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence fell over the room.

For a moment, neither Jey nor Rhea moved. They stood there, inches apart, the weight of everything pressing down on them like a tidal wave. Jey’s eyes flicked to hers, searching her face for something—anything—that might tell him what she was thinking.

Rhea’s gaze met his, and for a long, agonizing moment, neither of them said a word. The silence was thick with all the things they couldn’t say, with all the emotions that had been simmering between them for months.

They stared at each other, the unspoken tension pulling them closer, even though they were both too afraid to cross that line again. The room felt electric, every breath, every heartbeat loud in the stillness.

Jey’s hand twitched at his side like he was aching to reach for her, to pull her into his arms again and erase everything that had come between them. Rhea could feel it, too. Her body was drawn to him, despite everything—despite the chaos, the mess, the fear of what came next.

Her breath caught in her throat as Jey took a hesitant step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. Neither of them knew what to say. Words wouldn’t be enough to untangle the mess they were in. All they had was this moment, standing on the edge of a decision that could change everything.

They were stuck between the truth and their emotions—between everything they wanted and everything they knew they shouldn’t.

Jey stepped closer, his breath mixing with hers as he leaned in, his forehead almost resting against hers. They were so close, their bodies practically buzzing with the tension that had been building since the moment they’d walked in.

“Ask me again…” Jey murmured, his voice barely audible.

Rhea’s heart pounded in her chest, her lips trembling as she stared up at him. “Make love to me Joshua…” she whispered back.

The raw, urgent plea in her voice cut through the air, and Jey's eyes darkened with a blend of desire and vulnerability. He stepped toward her, his expression a tumultuous storm of longing and regret. With a decisive movement, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her effortlessly. The weight of her body against his felt like a promise—a promise of what they both craved, but could not yet fully grasp.

He carried her to the bedroom, his strides purposeful, each step heavy with anticipation.

Rhea's arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her breath warm against his skin. She clung to him as if he were the only anchor in a storm-tossed sea.

Jey set her down on the bed with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his feelings. He looked at her with a mix of desperation and reverence, his hands moving to undress her.

Each layer of clothing except for their underwear that fell away seemed to shed not just fabric but also the walls they had built around their hearts.

Their kisses were a clash of need and desire.

Jey's lips devoured hers, his tongue exploring with a hunger that matched the fire in her eyes.

Rhea's moans were muffled against his mouth, her hands gripping him with a fierce intensity.

Each touch, each kiss was a declaration of the raw, unfiltered passion that had been simmering between them.

Jey's hands explored every inch of her body, his touch rough yet tender, as if he were trying to memorize her with his skin. Rhea's breath came in gasps, her body arching into his touch, every sensation amplified by the urgency of their connection. He pushed her legs open as his tongue did the dance of the alphabet. Rhea let out moans of ecstasy as she looked at him, he didn’t stop and he grabbed her breasts as he shoved his tongue into her. Rhea couldn’t control how much she moaned… After what felt like forever, Jey came up and he kissed her again, Rhea immediately tasting herself.

“I want to take care of you…” Jey said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Prove it to me..” Rhea said, her voice gasping for air. Jey kissed her while he managed to pull down his briefs and pull out his very lengthy manhood. Rhea felt him rubbing up against her and she scooted more up onto the bed so he could position himself better, all the while not breaking the passionate kiss. Once Jey’s feet were not on the bed he entered her and that’s when Rhea broke the kiss for a gasp, she still could never get use to how big he was. Jey took a deep breath in, the way Rhea felt… her downstairs was like heroin and he was an addict.

Rhea’s legs relaxed and opened a bit more as Jey thrusted, deeper but slower, he wanted her to feel every inch.

“I love you so much..” Rhea moaned.

“I love you even more…” Jey replied, his thrusts now become a bit fast pace but still keeping the sensuality.

“I want you to have my baby..” Jey told her. Rhea lost in the sexual intensity told him, “I wanna have your baby..”

After 20 minutes their movements became urgent, a frantic dance of bodies pressed together. Each thrust, each gasp was an expression of the depth of their need. They moved together with a raw intensity that left them both breathless, their physical connection a manifestation of their emotional tumult.

Jey lifted up Rhea as he thrusted into her, their gaze meeting instantly, Rhea knew he was about to climax, this was always his favorite position and thankfully she was almost there too.

“I think…. Fuck I think…” Rhea could barely muster out a sentence.

“Cum’ for me baby… let your body go..” Jey said as held a grip on her waist, Rhea tightened and she cried out for Jey.

Jey feeling her grip couldn’t control it anymore and he let out a moan as he came deep inside of her. Jey slowly let her down and pulled out of her. Rhea kissed his head as he collapsed on her, the sweat dripping on her…

There was no room for anything but the overwhelming connection they shared. The intensity of their climax was a culmination of all their desires, fears, and unspoken words. The room was quiet, the aftermath of their intense passion leaving a stillness that hung in the air like a lingering fog. Rhea had fallen asleep, her chest rising and falling softly under the tangled sheets, her body exhausted from the day’s emotional and physical toll. Jey had managed to sit himself on the edge of the bed, his mind far from quiet. He glanced at Rhea, feeling the weight of everything they’d been through bearing down on him, yet the tenderness in his gaze remained. He glanced at the clock, 8:24 P.M, had he really been awake this whole time?

He slowly stood up, pulling his shirt back over his head, trying not to disturb her, he slipped into his joggers and pulled on his socks. His movements were careful, almost mechanical, as though he was afraid that any sudden action might shatter whatever fragile peace they’d found in each other. With Rhea now sleeping, Jey needed space, some distance to process the whirlwind of emotions churning inside him.

As he walked toward the balcony, he heard a knock at the suite door. His heart skipped a beat. Who would be knocking that hard?

Jey froze mid-step, his eyes darting to the door. A second knock followed, softer but insistent. He quickly looked back at Rhea down the hallway, still asleep, before moving cautiously toward the door. Peering through the peephole, he saw… nothing. No one stood on the other side. His confusion grew, and instinctively, he glanced down the hall through the narrow gap between the door and the frame.

Nothing.

But when his eyes shifted downward, he saw it—an envelope. Manila, plain, with no markings other than a handwritten name on the front.

His name.

Jey stepped out into the hallway, scanning both directions, but the halls were empty. He grabbed the envelope, glancing around once more, then quickly shut the door behind him.

Curiosity and suspicion clawed at his chest as he walked back into the suite, the weight of the envelope heavy in his hands. Sitting down on the arm of the sofa, he tore open the flap. A note fell out first, neatly folded. He unfolded it, his brows knitting together as he read the brief message.

“Forgot to give you two this. - Hunter"

Hunter? Jey blinked, feeling a surge of unease. What could he have possibly sent them? With a deep breath, Jey reached inside the envelope again and pulled out a piece of glossy paper. No, not just a piece of paper—a sonogram.

Jey’s heart stopped.

It was her sonogram. Their baby.

His eyes stayed glued to the grainy black-and-white image of the tiny life growing inside her, the blurred outline of their child unmistakable. The world around him seemed to spin, and Jey felt his breath catch in his throat. His fingers trembled slightly as he clutched the sonogram, the weight of the moment crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

For a long moment, he just stared, his mind struggling to comprehend the enormity of it all. The baby wasn’t just some distant idea anymore. It wasn’t something he could rationalize away or avoid thinking about. It was real. There, in his hands.

He glanced back toward the bedroom where Rhea slept peacefully, unaware of the revelation that had just landed in their lap. Her words echoed in his mind, her uncertainty, her fear. The conversation they’d had about abortion lingered in his head, twisting his thoughts into knots.

Was he ready for this? Was she? Could they really bring a child into this fractured, complicated mess of a situation?

Jey needed air. Desperately. Without another thought, he slid open the balcony door and stepped outside. The night air hit his skin like a shock, momentarily clearing his head. He walked to the lounger chair and sank down into it, still holding the sonogram in his hands.

Staring out at the Portland skyline, Jey felt his chest tighten. He hadn’t anticipated this—this level of responsibility, this level of commitment, and yet… it was happening. It was all happening so fast. The love he felt for Rhea was undeniable, but what did that love mean now? How did it change everything they had already risked?

The sky was dark, the city lights twinkling in the distance like stars, but Jey couldn’t focus on anything but the image of his child. Their child. His mind raced, flipping through memories—Takecia, his boys, the family he swore to protect. But this child was part of him, too. A part of Rhea. And that reality terrified him in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

He gripped the sonogram tighter, wondering how they could possibly navigate this. Rhea had asked him what to do. She had asked him if he could hate her for wanting to abort the baby. In that moment, he hadn’t been able to find the right words. Now, holding this fragile piece of evidence in his hand, he knew one thing for certain.

He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose this child, no matter how terrified he was. But would she feel the same?

His mind raced with thoughts of how to approach her, how to talk to her, how to convince her that maybe, just maybe, they could figure this out. But deep down, the uncertainty gnawed at him. What if she still wanted out? What if this was all too much for her?

The night air felt heavier now, pressing down on him as his thoughts drifted away from Rhea and toward Takecia. He hadn’t let himself really think about her—about their life together—in a long time. Not since all this with Rhea started. But now, sitting there with the image of a new life in his hand, memories of his old life flooded in.

He could still remember the first time he saw Takecia in high school. She was standing by the lockers, laughing with a group of friends, and something about the sound of her laugh caught his attention. It was carefree, full of life. She had that way about her, drawing people in without even trying. He’d been shy back then, unsure of himself in a way he hadn’t felt in years. But with her, everything had just clicked.

They dated through the ups and downs of high school, through football games and prom nights, through family gatherings and shared dreams of what life could be. Jey had fallen hard, the way only a teenager can fall in love, thinking that nothing would ever change. When he’d put that ring on her finger in 2015, standing at the altar in front of all their friends and family, he’d felt like he was on top of the world. Like they could take on anything together. She’d looked so beautiful that day, her smile so wide it lit up the entire room.

He swallowed hard, his throat tightening as he remembered the birth of their first child. That moment when he’d held his son for the first time, the rush of love that had hit him like a freight train. He hadn’t known he could love anyone the way he loved his kids. The pride, the protectiveness. The way that little boy had made him want to be better, do better.

And then came their second born. Jey had thought his heart was already full, but when he held that tiny bundle in his arms, his heart had somehow grown even more. He’d promised himself, and Takecia, that he would always be there for them. That they would always come first.

But now… now everything was so complicated. He loved his kids. That would never change. They were his world, his blood, his legacy. But Takecia? Somewhere along the way, they’d lost something. Or maybe he had. His heart wasn’t in it anymore. Not like it used to be. He cared for her, respected her, but he wasn’t in love with her anymore.

Not the way he was with Rhea.

The guilt twisted in his gut as he thought about how long he had been lying to himself, to her. Every time he went home to his family, he felt the weight of the lie growing heavier. The secret he kept from her was like a wall between them, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t tear it down. He’d made a commitment, a promise, but what was the point of staying if his heart was no longer there?

The sonogram in his hand felt like a ticking time bomb. What would happen when the truth came out? What would Takecia say when she found out about the baby? About him and Rhea? Would it destroy everything they had built, or would she already have known deep down that something was wrong?

Jey leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands running through his hair. His mind flashed to his kids again—their laughter, their smiles, the way they looked at him like he was their hero. He wasn’t ready to lose that, but could he really keep living this double life?

And what about Rhea? She was carrying his child now. The thought shook him to his core. Could he really ask her to keep the baby while he still had one foot in his old life? Could he tear himself away from Takecia and still be a good father to the children they shared?

He let out a deep sigh, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. The sonogram stared back at him, a silent reminder that time was running out to make a choice.

—

Takecia, Jon and Trinity were all in the living room as their kids were up in the game room making all the noise they could make. Takecia had invited them to stay over with her so she wouldn’t feel alone in the house but when the topic shifted on Jey, she asked Jon if anything had been bothering him but of course… Jon had to lie.

Takecia leaned back into the cushions of the couch, her drink resting on the coffee table, her eyes fixed on Jonathan. The tension in the room had been building ever since she brought up Jey, and she wasn’t about to let it slide. Not this time. Something had been eating away at her, gnawing at her gut for weeks now, and it all pointed to Jey’s recent behavior. His distance. His strange, unexplained absences. She had to know what was going on.

“So,” she began, her voice calm but with an edge, “you’re really gonna sit here and tell me everything’s fine? That nothing’s going on with Jey?” She leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing at Jonathan. “Come on, Jon. You’re his brother. If anyone knows what’s up, it’s you.”

Jonathan stiffened immediately, his shoulders tensing as he glanced at Trinity, who was watching the exchange closely. His hands gripped his drink tighter, and he forced a chuckle that didn’t quite land.

“Takecia, I already told you,” he said, his voice a little too defensive, “Jey’s just busy. You know how it is with the schedule, the shows. He is just worried that maybe he won’t get this title belt after all yaknow? He’s fine.”

But Takecia wasn’t buying it. She could feel the discomfort radiating off Jonathan, and it only made her press harder. “Busy? Jon, he’s always been busy. He has spoken with me about not being able to be a singles champion. That’s not new. But this—this is different, and you know it.” She crossed her arms, staring him down. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Jonathan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting to Trinity again, as if silently pleading for help. But Trinity stayed silent, her expression unreadable as she watched her husband squirm under Takecia’s gaze.

“Look,” Jonathan said, his voice tightening, “I don’t know what you want me to say. Jey’s… he’s got a lot on his plate right now, alright? But it’s not my place to get into it.”

Takecia’s eyes narrowed even more. “Not your place?” she echoed, her tone incredulous. “Jon, I’m his wife and the mother of his kids. If something’s going on, I need to know. Why are you being so secretive?”

Jonathan’s discomfort quickly turned into defensiveness. “I’m not being secretive!” he snapped, sitting up straighter. “I’m just telling you what I know. Jey’s got his own shit to deal with, and maybe you need to talk to him about it, not me.”

Takecia’s jaw clenched, and she leaned forward, her eyes locked on Jonathan. “I have tried talking to him,” she said, her voice low but intense. “But he keeps shutting me out. That’s why I’m asking you. Don’t you think I deserve to know what’s going on?”

Jonathan looked like he was ready to bolt, his leg bouncing anxiously as he avoided eye contact. “Look, I get it, okay? But I’m not gonna betray my brother’s trust. If he’s not talking to you, that’s between you two. It’s not my place to get in the middle of it.”

Takecia’s frustration boiled over, her hands gripping the edge of the couch. “You’re already in the middle of it, Jon! You’ve been acting weird ever since he left. You know something, and I can tell you’re holding back. So stop with the bullshit and just tell me the truth!”

Jonathan’s face hardened, his defensiveness kicking into high gear. “You think this is easy for me? I’m trying to protect my brother, alright? I don’t want to get involved in your marriage issues. That’s not what this is about!”

Trinity, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke up, her voice calm but firm. “Jon, you’re doing a terrible job of hiding whatever it is. If you don’t come clean, this is only going to get worse.”

Jonathan shot her a look, exasperated. “Trin, don’t—”

“No, Jon,” she interrupted, her voice steady. “Takecia deserves to know if something’s going on with Jey. You can’t keep covering for him forever.”

Jonathan ran a hand through his hair, frustration mounting. He was caught, and he knew it. But he wasn’t ready to give in just yet. “I’m not covering for him!” he insisted, though even he didn’t sound convinced anymore. “I’m just—he’s got to figure this out on his own, okay?”

Takecia’s eyes burned with frustration and hurt. She could see that Jonathan was dodging, deflecting, doing everything he could to protect Jey, but in doing so, he was leaving her in the dark. And that was something she couldn’t accept.

“Jon,” she said, her voice softer now but no less intense, “I’m not asking for all the details. I just need to know if something’s seriously wrong. I need to know if my marriage is in trouble.”

Jonathan let out a heavy sigh, his defenses crumbling just a little as he looked between his wife and Takecia. “I don’t know, T,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on in his head. But whatever it is, it’s weighing on him. I’m not saying it’s nothing… but you need to talk to Jey. He’s the only one who can give you the answers.”

Takecia sat back, the weight of his words sinking in. She knew Jonathan wasn’t telling her everything, but at least now she had a sliver of truth to hold onto… or did she? Something was wrong with Jey, and whatever it was, it was bigger than she had thought. She didn’t know how she was going to get through to Jey, but one thing was certain—she wasn’t going to stop until she had the answers she deserved.

Takecia’s frustration grew palpable, her fingers gripping her glass so tightly it was as if she were trying to crush it. “I told Solofa to use his connections and stop that storyline with Jey and that Rhea Ripley bitch. I just don’t trust it. I don’t like it at all.”

Jonathan sighed heavily, his patience wearing thin. “It looks like they’re moving forward with it, Takecia. There’s not much we can do now.”

Takecia’s eyes flashed with anger. “Moving forward? Jey has never been involved in any romantic storyline before. Why start now, and why with her? This is exactly how things start going wrong.”

Jonathan attempted to calm her. “It’s not a romance; it’s more of an alliance with Rhea and Damian Priest’s team. It’s part of The Judgment Day angle. They’re just playing it up for TV.”

Takecia’s disbelief was palpable. “An alliance huh? Just look at Edge and Lita. That wasn’t supposed to be a storyline; it was a mess that started when Matt Hardy was injured. It became something real and ruined lives. And don’t forget Chris Benoit and Nancy. That started as a storyline and turned into a real affair. I don’t want Jey to get dragged into that kind of mess.”

Jonathan tried to assure her. “I understand your concerns, but this situation is different. Jey’s role is just part of the show. It’s not supposed to turn into anything more.”

Takecia’s face reddened with anger and worry. “I don’t buy it. Jey has never been part of any romantic angle. Why the sudden change? I’m not convinced this won’t end badly.”

Jonathan suggested, “Have you checked Jey’s social media recently? It could give you more insight into the storyline.”

Takecia’s expression shifted to one of sudden realization. “Social media? I haven’t looked at it in ages. Ever since the WWE PR Team took over the accounts, I didn’t feel the need to check.”

Trinity, who had been observing quietly, added, “Actually, Takecia, the WWE PR Team stopped managing the wrestlers’ social media accounts a few months ago. The wrestlers are handling their own posts now.”

Takecia’s eyes widened, a mix of fear and anger flashing across her face. “They stopped?” Her voice full of disbelief.

Her frustration reached a boiling point. Without another word, she pulled out her phone and swiftly navigated to Jey’s Instagram profile. Her fingers moved with urgency as she scrolled through his recent posts. She then went to google and took a deep breath as she typed it in…

Recap of Jey Uso and Rhea Ripley

Jonathan and Trinity watched as Takecia’s face grew increasingly tense with every image she scanned. Her lips tightened into a thin line, her emotions clearly running high as she flipped through pictures of Jey with her…

Takecia’s hands shook as she scrolled through the google images, the TikTok preview images, the videos, her anger morphing into deep hurt. The images of Jey with Rhea Ripley were not just part of a storyline; they looked alarmingly intimate. The moments they did share, they seemed too personal to be mere scripted drama. Her sense of betrayal grew with each swipe, each photo and video blurring the line between fiction and reality.

“Jonathan,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear, “is Jey cheating on me?”

Jonathan’s face went pale, his concern evident. He moved closer to Takecia, trying to offer comfort. “No, Takecia, I promise you, it’s all just a storyline. The WWE creates these dramatic angles to entertain the fans. It’s not real.”

Takecia’s eyes filled with tears, her frustration palpable. “It’s supposed to be a storyline, but this feels different. I know about storylines, but these images—they don’t feel fake. They feel like he’s really with her.”

Jonathan took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “I understand that it looks bad, but Jey’s not cheating on you. It’s all scripted. He’s just playing a part.”

“I can’t shake the feeling that it’s more than just acting,” Takecia said, her voice breaking. “I need to process this, I need you both to watch the kids for me.”

Trinity, noticing the anguish in Takecia’s eyes, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got the kids covered. You should take the time you need.”

Takecia nodded, her expression pained but resolute. “Thank you. I’m going to try and get some sleep. Please make sure they’re okay.”

Jonathan and Trinity exchanged worried glances as Takecia slowly made her way upstairs. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by her mounting fears and the sense of betrayal she felt.

Once she was in her bedroom, she shut the door softly behind her and sat on the edge of the bed. The room felt cold and distant as she stared blankly at the wall. The images of Jey and Rhea on social media replayed in her mind, each one a reminder of her shattered trust. Her tears flowed freely now, a release of the overwhelming pain and uncertainty she felt. She needed to be alone, to come to terms with her feelings, but the betrayal she felt left her feeling isolated and broken.

—

Takecia tossed and turned, the clock on her bedside table glaring back at her with its cold, unfeeling numbers. It was well past 2 a.m., and sleep remained elusive. Her mind raced in a chaotic whirlwind of betrayal, hurt, and anger. Every time she closed her eyes, the images from Jey’s Instagram replayed in her mind with haunting clarity—the photos and videos that seemed so intimate, so painfully real.

She replayed their conversations, the moments of affection and the times they’d shared, searching for clues she might have missed. She knew something had been off for a while, the emotional distance between them growing wider. The undeniable truth hit her hard: Jey had been unfaithful, and she had been living a lie.

The bed, once a place of comfort, now felt like a prison. The emotional weight pressed heavily on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Her thoughts spiraled, focusing on the future and what her next steps would be. The betrayal stung, but she had to be pragmatic about how to move forward.

She envisioned the conversations she would need to have, the legal battles, and the emotional strain. Her reputation was important, and she knew that any public scandal would only add to her pain. She wanted to ensure that the divorce process was as controlled and respectful as possible, especially for the sake of their children.

Her thoughts turned to what she wanted from the divorce. She knew she couldn’t be lenient. She needed to protect herself and secure her future, but she also wanted to ensure that their children were provided for. Her mind raced through the legalities, the demands she would make.

“I want shared custody,” she thought fiercely. “I want no alimony. Just make sure the kids’ college education is covered. And the house—it’s mine. It’s the one thing that’s been a sanctuary for us.”

The idea of shared custody felt like a fair compromise, ensuring that the children wouldn’t lose their father’s presence. The stipulation about no alimony was a matter of principle—she wanted to be seen as strong and self-sufficient. The college education for the kids was non-negotiable; they deserved the best opportunities, and Jey had to be responsible for that. As for the house, it was more than just bricks and mortar; it was a symbol of stability, and she wasn’t willing to give it up.

Takecia’s resolve solidified as she lay in the darkness. She knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges and emotional turmoil, but she was determined. She would confront Jey, lay out her terms, and begin the process of untangling their lives. The betrayal had been a bitter pill to swallow, but it also ignited a fire within her. She had to act decisively, protect her dignity, and secure her children’s future.

As Takecia looked into herself, the depth of her inner turmoil began to reveal itself. The betrayal was a piercing wound, but it was not just the act of infidelity that cut so deeply—it was the very foundation of her identity and future that felt shaken. Her thoughts turned inward, questioning her own choices and identity.

She remembered her maiden name, Travis. The name had been hers before she became Fatu, before she was entangled in the life she had built with Jey. The name Travis symbolized a past she had left behind, but now it seemed to beckon her with a sense of reclaiming something fundamental. She wondered what it would be like to revert to that name, to start fresh. But such thoughts only added layers to her already complex emotions.

"Should I confront Jey first, or should I go to a divorce attorney?" she pondered. The uncertainty gnawed at her. Confronting Jey would mean facing the man she had loved, the father of her children, and the person who had betrayed her. It would be a moment fraught with emotion and potential conflict. On the other hand, consulting an attorney would mean taking a step toward a future she was not entirely ready to embrace, a future that would require a legal battle and public scrutiny.

Her mind raced through a myriad of scenarios. What if Jey was not cheating? What if there was an innocent explanation for the intimate images she had seen? The doubt lingered, mixing with the anger and hurt. The possibility of him being faithful, of her misinterpreting the situation, felt like a fragile thread of hope that she clung to despite the overwhelming evidence. She vacillated between determination and uncertainty. The idea of confronting Jey was daunting. She could imagine the confrontation—the raw emotions, the accusations, the possibility of reconciliation or even further heartbreak. The thought of seeing Jey’s face, hearing his explanations, and facing the truth was both terrifying and necessary.

On the other hand, starting the divorce process without confronting him first seemed harsh and cold. It felt like jumping to conclusions, sealing the fate of their relationship without giving him a chance to explain or make amends. Yet, the fear of being wronged again and the desire to protect herself made the legal route seem more secure.

As she lay there, the minutes ticked by, and the morning light began to seep through the curtains. Takecia felt a sense of deep weariness, her mind still swirling with questions and emotions. The sun’s early rays seemed to mock her, bringing a new day that promised more of the same struggle. The clarity she had felt earlier in the night now seemed distant, replaced by a murky sea of doubt and indecision.

She had to decide her next steps, but the path forward was shrouded in confusion. The early morning hours felt like a silent witness to her internal battle—a battle between confronting the truth, protecting herself, and navigating the uncertain waters of her future. As the sun rose, Takecia felt the weight of her choices pressing down on her, knowing that whatever decision she made would shape the course of her life from this point forward. She looked at her phone and typed in the search bar…

Flights from San Francisco to Portland

—

It was 5:30 AM on Sunday, September 15th. The suite was still cloaked in the early morning haze when Damian, clad in his gym clothes, rapped loudly on Jey's bedroom door. His enthusiastic voice cut through the quiet. “Wake you damn sinners! We got a morning workout!”

Jey, half-awake and tangled in the sheets, turned his head to see Rhea on the other side of the bed. Expecting her to be still snoozing, he was surprised to find her already stretching, her movements smooth and purposeful. Her eyes met his with a spark of energy.

“Come on, Jey,” she said firmly. “Enough relaxation time. Get up and join Damian and me for the workout.”

Jey groaned, his initial irritation flaring up. He had been hoping for a few more hours of sleep, but the idea of lying in bed versus working out with Rhea and Damian presented a clear choice. He reluctantly sat up, realizing that he hadn’t had a good workout since Monday morning. The guilt of neglecting his fitness routine nudged him towards action.

“Alright, alright,” he grumbled, pushing himself out of bed. “You win. I’m up.”

Rhea flashed a triumphant smile and hopped out of bed, heading towards the mini bar. “Good. I’ve been so out of routine cause of everything but Damian suggested last night while you showering and I agreed for both of us. We can’t let him down now.”

Jey quickly got dressed, his movements sluggish but determined. As Rhea handed him a protein drink from the mini bar, Jey took a grateful gulp, feeling the energy boost.

“So, you guys do this every Sunday?” Jey asked, stretching his arms as he made his way to the suite’s living room.

Damian, already in workout mode, grinned broadly. “We usually work out every other day, but with everything that’s been going on, we figured a good two-hour session today will help make up for it.”

Jey’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Two hours, Uce?” His face scrunched.

Damian laughed heartily. “Wepa! We’ll make it count. It’ll be good for all of us.”

Jey shook his head, a mixture of amusement and trepidation crossing his face. “Alright, if you say so. Let’s get this over with.”

As they headed down to the hotel gym, Jey started to connect his AirPods and he scrolled through the several playlists he had in his iPhone.

“Don’t feel up to Bad Bunny, Jey?” Damian joked as they stood in the elevator.

“No he doesn’t like our heavy metal..” Rhea said.

“We are definitely not alike…” Jey said jokingly.

Hunter had reserved the gym for then three of them, to keep this situation more under wraps. Jey tried to mentally prepare himself for the rigorous workout ahead, his mind still buzzing from the past few days. Despite his initial reluctance, he knew that immersing himself in a solid workout might help clear his head and offer a temporary escape from the emotional turmoil he was navigating.

—

Midway into the workout, Rhea was focused on her routine, lifting free weights as her favorite band blasted in her ears. The rhythm of the music kept her pace steady, each rep pulling her away from the complications that weighed on her mind. But then, force of habit, she glanced in Jey’s direction.

He stood across the room, shirtless, sweat dripping from his body, his tattoos illuminated under the gym lights. His muscles flexed with each movement, and Rhea couldn’t look away. The barbell in her hands slowly lowered as she drifted into a trance…

Suddenly, she snapped out of it when Damian Priest waved his hand in front of her face. “Yo, Rhea,” he said, snapping his fingers again with a grin. “I get he’s handsome, but you’re supposed to be lifting, not daydreaming.”

Rhea chuckled, slipping off her headphones. “Handsome? Please. That’s my baby daddy.”

Damian froze, his playful grin slipping off his face as he processed her words. The silence lingered for a moment, and Rhea didn’t notice his expression until she glanced at him. She gave him a confused smile. “Oh... I forgot to tell you. It’s confirmed… I wanted to tell you but I fell asleep and you were with Kayden—” Before she could finish Damian blinked repeatedly , his eyes widening in surprise. Then, a huge smile broke across his face. Without another word, he stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug, his excitement bubbling over. “Rhea, that’s amazing! How long?”

Rhea laughed, patting Damian’s back as he squeezed her tighter. “She said 13 weeks.”

He pulled back, holding her at arm’s length, his eyes filled with joy. “I’m so happy for you, really. This is... wow. Your first baby.”

Rhea’s smile softened, but the excitement in Damian’s eyes sent a flicker of unease through her. He didn’t know the whole story. She hadn’t told him about the private conversations she’d had with Jey. How they had discussed all the possibilities—even the option of not going through with it.

But Damian didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

Rhea cleared her throat and forced the smile back on her face. “Yeah, first one,” she said quietly. “It’s... it’s a lot to think about.”

Damian didn’t catch the hesitation in her voice. He was too busy grinning like a proud uncle, clearly thrilled by the news. “Man, this kid’s going to have one badass mom. And hey, if you need anything, I’m here. You know that, right?”

Rhea nodded, grateful for his support even if he didn’t know the full truth. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Damian. Really.”

As Damian walked back to his weights, still smiling to himself, Rhea’s heart felt heavier. She glanced at Jey again, her thoughts swirling. They had a decision to make, and it wasn’t going to be an easy one.

[everythingmp3]

soft like silk

adult!Van x fem!reader

after a long day, you come home to your girlfriend and she knows exactly how to help you relax, for good - it is both tender and passionate, the way she goes about caring for you.

authors note: I’m back with more bc I had a really nice time with the last one and wanted to come up with another gf thing for her <3 it’s around 3k words and I’ve honestly been loving writing for her, so I hope you enjoy!

warnings: smut (reader receiving), minors dni

it was around 10 pm when you climbed up the stairs to your girlfriends apartment.

originally, you had planned on getting there by 7 pm but something came up and you ended up having to wait an excruciating amount of hours to finally see her again.

the moment you walked into her living space and saw her turn around on the couch to smile over at you, all the previous stress and frustration faded into the background, replaced by the joy of seeing her obvious delight at having you back; Van had already showered, so she looked soft to the touch, her face fresh and still glowing pink from the hot water, her eyes sparkling as she said "hey baby".

you dropped your bag, shrugged off your jacket and immediately rushed over to her. she expected you to sit down next to her, so her arm was out for you to nuzzle yourself against, but you had other plans: first, you reached out to hold her face and give her a lingering kiss. then, the moment you lowered yourself onto the couch, you draped yourself over her lap in a dramatic fashion, resting your head on her thighs while letting out a loud sound of relief, your muscles all relaxing at once.

Van laughed and stroked your back, "long day, huh?". "yeah, too long..." you sighed, letting it show in your tone that you were exhausted, maybe also a bit pissed off by the people who had delayed you, had kept you from her.

"poor thing" Van cooed at you, before leaning down and kissing your cheek, her fingers in your hair then, which immediately put you at ease, that sensation of being tended to while laying on her.

even through the layers of fabric, you could feel her warmth, you could smell the fresh milky scent of her lotion, which almost made you emotional because that alone made you feel much better: the sensuality of her presence.

Van massaged your scalp and grinned to herself as she listened to you debrief some of what had happened earlier, endeared by how docile you looked, how any attempt to appear tough always melted away in her arms.

it was the one thing that made it impossible for her to tell herself that you were growing tired of her or getting fed up by her quirks: the way you always sought out her touch when you came to her after a rough day. you often hugged her hello with such an urgency and tenderness, even after only having been separated for a day, that she was taken off-guard by it, stunned, slightly in disbelief over how you craved her proximity.

they were some of her favorite memories with you, the moments you reunited.

that night was no different. Van stroked your hair and listened intently, her voice achingly attractive to you whenever she let out a low "hmm" of agreement or made little off-hand comments like “next time take me with you, they won’t speak to you like that when I’m glaring at them” to try and get you to laugh, to make you forget about everything that had stressed you out and turn your day around for the better.

you stopped talking eventually because Van’s constant touches, the way she caressed your back, your cheek, the way she raked her fingers through your hair, lulled you into such a peaceful state of half-consciousness, that you almost drifted off.

for a few minutes she just stared at you lovingly and savored the feeling of having you safe in her lap, all to herself, but eventually she gave you a light nudge and asked "you falling asleep on me, hm?", grinning at your mumbled "no.. no I am awake".

once you sat upright again, she asked "did you eat enough?", which you answered with a half-hearted "uh, sure, I mean-", so she interrupted you, "okay, that’s a no. so, I will go get you the other half of the take out I had earlier, I had a feeling you might need it. so, you just.. wait here and look pretty" a grin as she said that last part, while getting up and walking over to the kitchen.

"I’ll try" you responded, smiling to yourself as you leaned back and watched her, touched by how she always made a point of making sure that you were well fed, that you were taken care off and not at risk of going to sleep hungry or in any other discomfort.

it didn’t take you long to finish the meal, so about fifteen minutes later you were in the shower, while Van waited for you in bed.

once you walked into the bedroom, she put her phone down on the nightstand and smiled at you, taking in the sight of you dressed in clothes that you had stolen from her, eyeing you up and down with a subtle trace of want in her gaze, her mind wandering to other places than sleep.

so, before you could walk over to your side of the bed, Van spoke up and said "no, come here. please", while patting the space between her legs.

she was sitting over the covers and waited for you to join her, so you did as you were told and climbed onto the bed, crawling over to where she wanted you, settling between her legs.

Van put her hands on your shoulders and pressed her thumbs into your skin, gently but firmly, eliciting a sigh from you, which seemed to get under her skin, that sound. she kept massaging your for a moment before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your neck, a shiver down your spine as she did this, your hands on her legs, which were next to yours, squeezing them lightly in response.

she put her arms around your waist then and whispered "are you too tired, or do you want a bit more?". you weren’t expecting it, so a sudden rush of heat went to your face.

"no I can handle it. what do you want me to do?" you asked, your voice husky all of a sudden.

"you don’t have to do anything baby, just let me make you feel good, help you relax, alright?". you nodded, unsure what she was about to do, and yet, eager to feel her in any way she’d offer.

"okay" she said and sat a bit more upright, adjusting your position too, urging you to open your legs a bit for her, so she’d have easy access.

it dawned on you then what she was trying to do and it turned you on without even having been touched yet - she’d never done it that way, pleasing you from that angle, so it was a thrill, to feel her behind you, as she slipped her hand under the loose fabric of your sweatpants. you already felt your hips jerking up lightly in response, the position alone a turn-on to you: legs apart for her, open, vulnerable, eager.

Van wanted to work you up before getting to it, so she placed her palm flat on your lower stomach at first, soft, warm, familiar, a touch that both aroused and soothed you, that made your blood rush faster.

you felt a sudden ache at your core, the ache of emptiness, where you wanted her, desperately. your breathing changed in an instant. she could tell. so she drew it out a bit, to hear more of it, the intoxicating sound of your want. she kissed the left side of your neck, over and over, which made your head fall back further, allowing more access as she caressed your stomach, her thumb moving back and forth mere inches away from where you could already feel a heat spreading.

"please.." you whispered then, which got her good, since she was usually the one who begged.

Van kept her face close to your neck, so you could feel her breath as she said “I thought about you all day, you know?". her tone made it clear that she was referring to her fantasies about you, which only turned you on more: the thought of her imagining you under her or on top of her, tasting you, or you tasting her, a sudden need to know it in detail, what it was that she got off to when you weren’t there.

"me too... " you admitted in a breathless tone as she finally moved her hand down, all the way.

"hm, my sweet girl.." she whispered as she slid her fingers between your lips and felt how wet you had gotten, a whine from you, a groan from her, a shared moment of "god. I need you."

Van knew your body. she knew you could get even wetter than that, so she lightly pushed her fingertips into your entrance, to get her fingers slicked up and tease you with achingly slow movements, a steady up and down movement then, your cunt throbbing from it, pulsing.

a twitch of your leg, an attempt to shift your body and a sighed "fuck.." signaled to her she was doing it right, so Van whispered "shh, it’s okay, don’t hold it in" and brushed the side of her face up against yours for a second, her own eyes closed as she got lost in the pleasure of having you flush against her chest, feeling you grow hot and impatient from her impact.

you quickly got soaked from her touching, so after a while of teasing you, Van moved her fingers up to your clit and started applying pressure, jerking you off the way she knew you needed her to - not too fast yet, giving you enough time to get a full body orgasm out of it, not just a quick rushed release, drawing lazy circles, humming from the pleasure of feeling you relax into it.

Van was deeply turned on from the feeling of having you all over her fingers, hearing you react to it, trying not to be too loud herself from the arousal that was turning her breaths heavy too.

she kissed your neck again then, more intensely than before, sucking on your skin lightly, running her tongue over the area, as her free hand moved to your chest, to keep you close, to grope your tits through your shirt, a moan from you as she did this, followed by a series of pathetic whines and sighs, as you felt her all over yourself: your neck, your chest, between your legs, losing your composure by second, from the feeling of being entirely wrapped up by her, being at her mercy like that.

she moved her fingers a bit faster then, which made your lower half feel like it was burning, so you pleaded "yeah, like that, keep going.." when she hit the exact right rhythm, your head thrown back all the way, her hand still firm on your chest, steading you as she sighed "you feel so fucking good.." against your skin, the contrast of having you in an embrace and fucking you at the same time, that mix of sweetness and perversion, enough to make her lose her mind, a sudden sound from deep within her chest, that told you she was just as turned on as you.

it was heaven, to be comfortable like that, to be in bed all cozy and dazed from the strain of the day, while being pleased so well that you could feel your whole body trying to soak it up, the intense tingling sensation that spread from your core all the way through your stomach, your chest, your throat, your face, a rapid building up of tension from her skilled touches, her lips warm all over your neck and throat, your own lips parted, louder moans as she turned the jerking off more aggressive and goal-focused.

Van could feel you growing erratic, so she assured you "it’s okay, I got you, let go, baby", while you pressed yourself back against her, your hips jerking up pretty violently to meet her hand in the desperate attempt to finish as intensely as possible.

Van’s arm strained then as she gave you the final push by not letting up at all and rubbing your clit hard enough to make your vision blur, a stifled moan, a cry as you tensed up, clenched, and felt it go through you in one violent rush, the kind of climax that you desperately wanted to prolong, so you begged "don’t stop yet", which she didn’t need to be told twice - her fingers still on you all the way through your high, never moving away, letting you ride it out, whispering sweet things to you, her left arm tight around your chest.

for a moment longer you let out whimpers and felt yourself hot and wet against her fingers until your body finally went slack and you let out a shuddering breath.

Van couldn’t help but let her hand linger for a few more seconds, to enjoy the sensation of the mess she’d made of you, the feeling of your soft skin slicked up by your cum. you kept your eyes shut and listened to both your own and her labored breaths as you felt even more blood rush to your face from the knowledge that she was into it, playing with you, just for the sake of feeling your arousal.

eventually, she let go and moved her hand to her mouth to lick you off her fingers, too hungry for it to even think of making you taste yourself, greedy in her desire for every part of you.

you were still slightly breathless as Van did this, so you didn’t comment but it did make you feel dizzy with desire, to hear the sound of her sucking her own fingers clean, to know that she wanted you that badly.

a few seconds later, you suddenly felt strong again, so without warning you got up from between her legs. you were a bit unsteady as you turned around to climb onto her lap and grab her neck, eagerly pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss, overcome by affection for her.

you kissed Van sloppily, open mouthed, your tongue against hers in an instant, her head bent back in response, submitting to your strength, gladly, a low moan as you pushed all of your fingers into her hair, tugging at it lightly as you moved to straddle her, overwhelming her with the clear need to kiss and kiss and kiss her, her hands under your shirt, on your back, needy sounds from you as you briefly got lost in your utter obsession with her.

Van was often on the receiving end of things, which meant that whenever the roles did switch and it was your turn, she was rewarded with intense displays of love afterwards. it was perhaps part of why she had initiated that night.

eventually, after kissing her lips raw, you pulled away and put your hands back on her shoulders after wiping your mouth, grinning at her, both of you spent and high on lust. "jesus...." Van sighed, while laughing quietly, her face bright red, her whole demeanor one of violent delight.

"you’re always so sweet to me" you mused, earnest then, "I love you so much."

Van was hit right in the deepest part of her heart by that, so she went quiet for a second and her eyes seemed to glisten, perhaps a teariness to them, you couldn’t tell, it was too dark.

she caressed your sides and answered "I love you too. I might die from it actually one of these days. but that’s fine by me."

even then her voice was sexy, raspy, barely above a whisper and you could tell that it wasn’t really meant as a joke, that she did actually feel overwhelmed by her love for you, so you leaned in again and rested your cheek against hers, while confessing "I never wanna leave here... I wish I could be with you all the time." sappy but honest, you did feel that way, you wanted her to know. and she did, a nod from her as she pulled you closer into the embrace.

there was a pleasurable residue of heat between your thighs as you sat on her and felt her arms tight around your back, both of you clinging to each other.

Van thought of something then. "when is your lease up again?". at first you didnt register the subtext, so you said "uh, in two months. why?". but the pregnant pause on her end made it clear, so you put your hands on her chest and pushed yourself away to look at her, met by a smug grin, a raise of her eyebrows, Van was amused by your shock.

"wait hold up.. are you saying you’d want me to move in? really?". it was not what you had expected to hear then, at all. you’d dreamed of it before, naturally, but you knew she had been a loner for a good amount of years before you two met, and you didn’t want her to feel pressured to open up her space to you, so you had never asked her before.

"yes, really. why wouldn’t I?" Van asked, genuinely confused, so you admitted. "don’t know. I guess I just wouldn’t want you to ever get sick of me…".

Van shook her head then and took your hands in hers, holding them for emphasis. "that’s impossible. the only reason I hesitated with asking you about this was that I actually fear the opposite... you getting sick of me. I mean. I am not saying this to be self-deprecating but, out of the two of us, I am definitely the more exhausting person to live with."

it was sweet to you that she didn’t see just how much you were dying to to spend every morning and night with her, to come home to her every day, to develop a domestic routine with her.

you squeezed her hands and cocked your head, eyeing her with a lovestruck expression. "okay listen, my angel. I would love nothing more than to spend every night together like this. nothing. I mean that." she nodded, charmed, deeply so, by your casual use of the word "angel", a blush to her cheeks. Van was suddenly hit by the realization that you were about to agree to live with her. that you already had, in a way.

"well, I only ever have bad days when youre not here. so." she admitted, lifting your hand to her lips to kiss your knuckles. you nodded, almost bursting at the seams with tenderness for her then.

"well, in that case, I think I have to move in. to help you out there" you said and leaned in to kiss her forehead, before you got down from her and made her join you in getting under the covers. Van turned off her bedside lamp and got snuggled up beside you in the dark.

you laid there, face to face, touching under the blanket, smiling at each other, silence for a moment, the deeply intimate kind, the sacred kind, the kind that seemingly stretched over centuries even though it was just a blink of an eye.

"feel free to do that again sometime by the way.." you said, which made her laugh. "oh, yeah? you liked that?". you nodded, reaching for her waist to pull her as close as possible, on leg draped over hers, the way you always did.

"yeah. you’re fucking hot when you get like that" a self-satisfied sparkle in her eyes, when she saw how your expression changed just from the memory of what she’d done, how she’d done it. "okay, good." a hint of cockiness to her then that suited her, that made you wanna kiss her again.

"don’t get me wrong though-" you added, "I do want you all over my face again soon. if I wasn’t so tired right now..." Van was turned on by the implication, so she gave you a light shove and said "stop. we have to sleep, don’t get me worked up". "tomorrow morning then?" you whispered, smiling, nudging her. "yes. feel free to gain the upper hand again then" she joked, nuzzling herself into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

you fell asleep entirely free of any prior frustrations that the day had thrown at you, blissed out from the feeling of being as close as possible to her, having her hair brush up against your face as you drifted off, dreaming of the luxury of spending every night with her in the near future.

you willed yourself to stay awake just a little longer than her, to feel it: the way she went completely soft against you in her sleep.

[tiny-pretty-sana]

i will take good care of you | mina x chaeyoung

pairing: mina x chaeyoung genre: fluff warning/tags: au, stablished relationship, domestic girlfriends w/c: 3.1 k a/n: i’m back with more fluff but i promise you i’m trying new things. sorry in advance for the mistakes you might find because english is not my first language but especially because it’s 7 am and i haven’t slept ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১. i’m still surprised by the response the first thing i’ve ever posted got, so i’ll be happy if this one receives half as much love as that one did. feel free to leave any comments, feedback, suggestions or requests 🤍

After Chaeyoung hadn't stopped sneezing and blowing her nose since she arrived soaking wet from the rain the previous afternoon, they decided that canceling their Sunday date would be the best option. Their visit to the botanical park has now been replaced by a day at home watching movies. The exam period is coming, so it was reasonable to make Chaeyoung stay at home so she doesn’t get worse. It takes them some time to decide, as the younger one felt guilty because they had already bought tickets, but Mina manages to convince her girlfriend to stay on the couch with a blanket, tea and a box of tissues beside her while she goes out to buy medicine, her favorite snacks and some ingredients to make miso soup.

"I'll take good care of you" is the last thing she says before kissing Chaeyoung’s lips and leaving the apartment.

She would be lying if she said she isn’t surprised to see that when she's back in their apartment, her girlfriend is still in the same place where she left her half an hour ago, only now she has a book in her hand instead of the mug of tea that now sits empty on the living room table. As Chaeyoung focuses on her book, she places everything she got in the kitchen and grabs her Nintendo to continue building and decorating her Animal Crossing island on the other side of the couch. Moments like this are the favorites for both of them, they just need each other's company as they spend time enjoying their hobbies in a comfortable silence.

They are both introverts who enjoy spending time at home playing video games, reading, drawing,writing, assembling Lego sets or watching movies. It's something they've always enjoyed separately, and since Chaeyoung accepted Mina's proposal to move into her apartment, it's become something they do together. Now, across the room, across the couch or using the other Nintendo Switch controller, they have someone with whom they share playful glances, smiles, exchange thoughts, talk about their days at work or college, about lives or share their problems. In moments like these, they just need to feel each other's presence. For them to be in silence doing their own thing while intertwining their legs under the blanket doesn't feel much different from a date outside in a nice place. 

It's these things that make Mina wonder if they'll always feel this way or if it's a passing thing that will end when she gets used to living with Chae. Meanwhile, on the other side of the couch, Chaeyoung underlines the sentences in the book that remind her of Mina and thinks that she stay in this moment all her life without ever getting tired of seeing Mina in front of her focus on her videogames with the tip of her tongue sticking out, concentrating on the game, just like she does when she cooks a new recipe or when she prepares some presentation for work.

An hour later, Chae puts the book away, takes off her glasses and holds the bridge of her nose with two fingers "I can't focus, I have a headache" she complains, making Mina sit up immediately "Let me get you a glass of water so you can take a painkiller". Chaeyoung gestures for her to get back to sit with her. "Don't worry, I think I just need to get some sleep" she says as her girlfriend looks at her with a doubtful face "I promise I'll take it if my headache doesn't go away" she replies, earning an indulgent smile from Mina.

As soon as her girlfriend falls asleep on the couch she goes to the kitchen to make some miso soup, lunch for both of them and looks up movie recommendations on her phone while waiting for the water to start boiling. And of course, tea is a must. 

It seems that sleep was good for Chae because when she wakes up, she seems to be in a better mood and even a bit more talkative, so they spend lunch talking about what movie they should watch. When they’re done, Mina takes care of clearing the table and cleaning the dishes despite Chaeyoung's refusal when her girlfriend tells her to brush her teeth and go back to the couch.

"Mina-chan!" she whines. "It's just a cold, don't treat me like I'm dying. Let me help you."

"Your exams are coming up and you and I both know that if you get sick now, you'll only be more anxious because you won't be able to do as much as you'd like. At least one of us has to be responsible" Mina says, giving her a scolding look, and Chaeyoung has no choice but to nod her head and follow her directions.

Mina doesn't have to explain herself for her girlfriend to get the message since the cold is due more to Chaeyoung being careless than to the sudden rain of the previous day. In the morning, when the gray clouds covered the Seoul sky and didn't let even a ray of sunshine show, they both commented that good rains were on the way and they hoped that at least it wouldn't be so heavy as to spoil their Sunday date. Exactly that date in which both should now be holding hands, smelling the fragrance of the flowers and taking a thousand photos and maybe, in the case of the art student, doing some sketches or drawings. And despite this, and despite Mina's recommendations, Chaeyoung decided to go out without an umbrella, arguing that her new raincoat would be more than enough and that, unlike the umbrella, it would not ruin her outfit. But in case that hadn’t been enough, for when she arrived completely wet down to her socks and even clothes under her raincoat when Mina reprimanded her for not having listened to her, the younger girl explained that in fact it wasn’t because she wasn’t carrying an umbrella but because she, Dahyun and Tzuyu decided to run and dance in the rain when they left the library after an intense studying session. 

Knowing that her girlfriend's two best friends were involved, she wasn’t surprised by what happened. Separately, Tzuyu and Chaeyoung are quite quiet, introverted and they rather go unnoticed, but if they get together with Dahyun nothing good can happen. Apparently in one of their classes this week, a teacher lectured them about youth, art and living life, which inspired them enough for them to spend at least an hour in the rain several days later in the middle of a storm.

Considering what happened, she wasn't going to take Mina's point away, but that's not going to stop her from complaining. "Oh come on, it's a silly cold" she snorts and before she can continue speaking, she sneezes so hard that her glasses fall off. "Okay, but don't take long" she relents. 

When the dishes are clean, dry and in place, Mina returns to her side of the couch and gets ready to watch the movie, but she doesn't put it on, so she looks away from the TV and when she turns her head, she meets the huge expressive eyes of her girlfriend, who looks at her like a like a kicked puppy. She laughs softly and shifts her posture to lie down behind her and be the big spoon. It’s then when her girlfriend considers pressing the play button.

Only ten minutes pass until Chaeyoung says "The movie was recommended by Nayeon-unnie, it's probably good. I didn't know she studied film in college" she says, to which Mina simply hums as she concentrates on what the characters are saying and what the subtitles say, as there are parts in Japanese that she doesn't want her girlfriend to miss. Occasionally, Mina whispers in her ear some of the lines or words that she feels are oversimplified in the subtitles, but it's still Chae who keeps talking the whole time. She describes what happened in the scene as if they weren't watching the same thing, comments on how neat the costumes are, talks about how beautiful she thinks the composition is, suddenly switches to the Japanese occupation in which the story is set, asks about something she doesn't have time to read, laughs when she realizes that just like the protagonists, one of them is Korean and the other one is Japanese, she then clarifies that in this case it is the Korean who has to learn Japanese... and Mina starts to be slightly annoyed. 

She’s a person who enjoys silence and is easily overwhelmed by too much noise or loud voices, like when they get together with their other seven friends and there are a lot of conversations going on at the same time. She knows it's something she needs to keep working on, but if anything, a red line for her is people talking while watching series or movies. Just like her beloved girlfriend is doing right now, who doesn't seem to pick up on the little interest her rambling receives, being answered only with monosyllables, short sentences and humming. They have been watching the movie for a while now and she’s squirming in her seat because of the discomfort and her urge to say or do something about it. her urge to get it over with is interrupted when she remembers that the girl in her arms is sick and what she needs right now is more care, the least she can do is listen to her thoughts and concerns. Even if she has decided to share them right while they are watching a movie in each other's arms. 

Just when the scene in which the protagonists share a moment of intimacy comes and takes Mina's breath away, Chaeyoung speaks and it takes all of Mina’s will to restrain herself and take a deep breath until she hears what her girlfriend has to say now. "Mina-chan, don't move away; it's cold."

And that's when Mina puts all the pieces together and moves her hand to her girlfriend's forehead. As expected, it's quite warm compared to hers and then she leans down to place her lips on her girlfriend's forehead, who without quite knowing what Mina's intentions are, smiles in anticipation of a kiss on her forehead.  "Baby, you have a fever" she says softly. "Pause the movie. I'll get the thermometer and some medicine." That's certainly not what Chae, who now had her eyes closed ready to receive the next kiss on her lips, expected to hear. Mina can't help but laugh at the sight before her, but she quickly gets up to get everything she needs from the kitchen and bathroom. After a year of dating her, she should know better. 

Luckily, there haven't been many times when one has had to take care of the other while they were sick, but enough times that Mina knows that Chaeyoung starts talking non-stop when her fever starts to rise. It's something that will always make her giggle, it's an odd trait that she finds adorable. "Was I talking that much?" Chae aks to her girlfriend, realizing what's going on, to which Mina nods and chuckles. "I was about to lose it" admits the older one, making her girlfriend blush. "Sorry, I didn't realize" she apologizes and Mina shakes her head as she gets up to grab the thermometer and a couple of other things.

"Here" she says as she returns with the thermometer the box of pills, a sachet of vitamins and a glass of water. "You should uncover for a while, Chaeyoungnie" she says, using a soft voice as she tries to take the blanket she is wrapped in, but her girlfriend grabs it and looks at her with a pout "But I'm so cold". Mina laughs softly "Yesterday you didn't seem to be bothered by the cold, come on, let’s get the thermometer on you". 

Mina wasn't mistaken, the thermometer after five minutes reads 39°C, and the first thing she does is pull the blanket aside this time for real and go get a towel. After taking the medicine, they play the movie back on and now that Chae is starting to feel worse, it’s no longer being interrupted by her ramblings, but by all the times Mina has to get up from the couch to re-wet the towel, until she checks her temperature again and it has dropped a few tenths of a degree. Before the movie is over, Chaeyoung falls asleep. She has replaced the blankets with her girlfriend and now is curled up resting her head in the crook of her neck, she warms her hands under the older one's t-shirt and has one of her legs between hers. Mina, now unable to move and not knowing where the remote is, ends up watching the movie alone until the last word of the credits because she finds it impossible to wake her girlfriend when she is sleeping peacefully in her arms.

Fifteen minutes have passed — maybe thirty or an hour — at this point she doesn't even know and she decides it's time to go to bed. She carefully separates her body from her girlfriend's and whispers sweet nothings, trying to wake her up. "Chaeyoungnie, let's go to bed" she whispers for the tenth time and this time she finally gets a "Hmm?" but nothing else, so she decides to take charge of the situation and gets up to pick up her girlfriend until she sees the restrained smile on her face that ends up giving her away. "You're awake! Come on, let's go to bed." Chaeyoung shakes her head and uses her sick privilege, and those eyes with which she gets anything from Mina, and asks her to carry her to their bed.

It doesn't take long for them to fall asleep, but at some ungodly hour of the night, the younger one doesn't stop moving and shivering, thus waking up the older one. Still asleep, with her eyes half open and the dim light coming through the window, she gropes her girlfriend's forehead to check her temperature and when she notices the hairs of her bangs soaked in sweat, she sits up right away and looks again for the thermometer and the towel. This time it reaches 40°C so she immediately uncovers her and places the towel on her forehead, also cooling her face and neck down making her shiver and whimper. "Mina-chan?" she asks with her eyes closed as she doesn’t have enough energy to open them. "I'm here. Your fever is up again, but don't worry. Try to sleep; I'll take care of you" she reassures her and when she sees her weakly nod her head, she caresses her face gently and runs her fingers through Chaeyoung's sweaty hair.

That's how she spent the rest of the night, cuddling her girlfriend, wetting the towel with cold water from time to time and checking the temperature, which didn’t drop below 38ºC all night long. Between one thing and another, she has had time to drink two coffees and has taken the laptop to get ahead of work, knowing that it is best to spend the day with her in case she has to take her to the doctor. When dawn breaks, Mina writes an email to her company informing them she won’t be able to attend work today, she presses enter and listens to the beep of the thermometer, checking that the temperature has finally dropped. She places the laptop on her bedside table, takes off her glasses, deactivates the alarm on her phone and finally lets herself fall asleep.

The sun finishes rising, illuminating the entire room, this time it is Chaeyoung who wakes up. Beside her, she finds her girlfriend with noticeable bags under her eyes, her glasses and laptop beside her just like when she suffers from insomnia. This time, she’s also holding the towel with which she has been using on her forehead all night long. Although the image melts Chaeyoung's heart, she can't help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought that her girlfriend has had to spend the night awake taking care of her because of her poor choices. Soon, the guilt is replaced by the warmth she feels in her chest as she looks at her girlfriend, thinking how grateful and loved she is. After a year together, she still finds it hard to believe that a person like Mina is in love. And not only in love but willing to love her even more with the hairs of her bangs sticking to her forehead from the cold sweat of fever, or like that time when, after finishing her sculpture project, she suffered a contracture and had to help her bathe for five days, or when she drank so much with her unnies that she spent half the night vomiting with her head stuck in the toilet while Mina held her hair and just like today, she then prepared miso soup for her on each of those occasions. According to her, it works to cure everything.

With a smile on her lips, she carefully strokes Mina's hair and covers her with the blanket as she feels her cold skin making her wake up. "Take the medicine. I'll make you some breakfast in a little while, give me five minutes" she hears her say in her newly awake voice. And, unlike the day before, Chae accepts the offer as she feels she doesn't have enough strength to stand for more than five minutes.

True to her word, in less than fifteen minutes, Mina enters the room with a bowl of miso soup. "Thank you, Mina-chan" she says as she picks it up and places it on the nightstand to cool down a bit. "No problem. I made it yesterday, I just warmed it up" she shrugs as the other shakes her head. "It's not about the soup, it's about everything. Thank you for taking care of me and loving me so well. I love you" she clarifies, earning a smile from the girl in front of her. One of those gummy smiles that makes her eyes practically disappear. She says nothing, simply caresses her cheek and reaches up, seeking a kiss from her girlfriend, who, instead of joining her lips with her whispers "You're going to get sick" by way of warning, a warning they are both willing to ignore. "That's not going to stop me. I can't think of a better plan than spending anothers day at home with you instead of going to work. Besides, what was that thing your teacher said for you to end up in the rain... Live, feel, eat, love, laugh, travel and kiss without thinking about tomorrow?" She teases her girlfriend again about the rain incident and Chaeyoung nods her head before kissing Mina. "I guess I'll have to take good care of you" she whispers against her lips.

[adorethedistance]

Sweet Creature - Jamie Drysdale x Reader (platonic!Trevor x reader)

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, mild roasts

Words: 1529

Summary: Domestic bliss featuring everyone’s favorite baby ducks.

A/n: I’m gonna be straight up. I fucking hate this piece. I hate it with a burning fiery passion but if I don’t post it I feel like I’ve just wasted the last few weeks that I’ve spent drafting it so here ya go

“You haven’t seen it?” I nearly screech out of pure astonishment, sitting up from my relaxed position on the couch. Jamie smiles skeptically and shrugs his shoulders with his arms outstretched lazily.

“No clue what you’re talking about.”

“Dvcree did not put their whole Pedrussy into making these Pedro Pascal edits for you to have no idea who I’m talking about.”

“Who?!”

“Ugh, that could’ve been so funny if you were just a little bit more meme-cultured. TREVOR!” I yell from the livingroom which leads the energetic boy to poke his head out of his bedroom door.

“What’s up?”

“Have you seen the Pedro Pascal edit?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you!” I make a face and Jamie to emphasize my point. He slowly shakes his head as he laughs and absentmindedly lifts the knot of his grey hoodie’s drawstring, tucking the woven cotton between his teeth. As the moment of my disbelief passes, I move over to lay down, pressing my left cheek against Jamie’s toned chest.

We’ve been laying on the couch and watching the Last of Us for the better half of an hour, with Trevor occasionally coming by to refill his water bottle and comment on the display of affection between me and Jamie. Our lazy days are nothing short of blissful and I couldn’t be more content with life at the moment.

“It’s ‘cause I’m not on TikTok!” Jamie argues while shifting to accomodate me, wrapping me in his arms, and resting the injured one on the surface of my back. What little of his skin that’s exposed is slightly cool to the touch, and I remember Jamie runs cold more often than not. I’ve been unintnentionally leeching off of his body heat since the outfit I wore today was better suited for the Irvine sun, and not his air-conditioned apartment.

“Well, you should get it. I’m tired of texting you links when I could be sending you DMs.”

“Ugh. I just can’t be bothered.”

“Whatever. Old man.” I momentarily lift my head from Jamie’s chest and pout my lips. He playfully squints at me for a second, then pecks my lips before pressing play on the last few minutes of the episode. The rhythm of his breathing is relaxing for me, and despite the episode only having five minutes left, I feel my eyelids become heavier and heavier. The warmth of our body heat between us soothes my soul, and my muscles release after a long day of productivity. If I went back in time to tell myself that a random apartment unit in Orange County would one day be the most comfortable place in the universe, I might’ve laughed in my own face.

Jamie feels like heaven.

Better than heaven.

He feels like home.

Small breaths escape my parted lips as I sink deeper and deeper into the feeling of his body against mine. And I can’t help smiling gently as I feel his heart momentarily keeping time with a song in the show. The soft fabric of Jamie’s hoodie smells like his favorite cologne over the sweet, comforting smell of his natural scent. His chest vibrates when he hums a small laugh at a joke one of the characters cracked. I’m not sure if he’s noticed my slow descent into unconsciousness, but it’s only a matter of time.

“Good episode,” he says decidedly, waiting a moment. “Y/n?” He whispers softly, unsure of my lack of response. I could say something back if I really wanted to, but with how comfortable the entire situation is, I’d rather just let the exhaustion consume me.

Jamie then grabs his phone from the armrest of the couch behind his head, opens it, and types something before his arms come to rest. In a moment, Trevor comes out of his room and asks,

“What do you need?”

“Shhhh!” Jamie hushes Trevor as he walks in loudly. “Is she asleep?” He asks quietly. Trevor shuffles around the back of the couch to stand in front of the tv, looking at my face most likely.

“Yes.”

“That was fast.”

“No kidding. She’s a cute sleeper.”

“Unlike you.”

“Hey!”

“Shhh.”

“What’s your guys’ dinner plan?”

“I think she wanted to cook something for all three of us but now that she’s out I guess I gotta do some decision-making.”

“Just order something on door dash,” Trevor says plainly as he shuffles back around the couch and into the kitchen area of the apartment.

“I got something earlier this week, my mom’s gonna ask questions.”

“I forget you’re still on her account. Loser.”

“Shut up.” The hushed tone of their chatter is comfortable and I quickly fall asleep in the safety of my boyfriend’s care.

____________________________

When I come back to, the first thing I notice is that Jamie is no longer underneath me. My eyes flutter open. I’m laying on my stomach, sprawled out on the couch under a grey blanket that I recognize to be the one-off of Jamie’s bed.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” I turn to face away from the seatback of the couch and find Trevor and Jamie seated on the floor, an assortment of takeout on the coffee table in front of them. Trevor nods a greeting as Jamie takes a bite of food.

“Were you just watching me sleep?” I ask, slightly freaked out.

“Yes.” Jamie almost chokes on the bite of food, shoving Trevor’s shoulder which makes them both laugh.

“No,” he starts to clarify, “We were just sitting against the couch and when we heard you stirring, we thought it’d be funny to stare at you.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Like, half an hour?”

“You want some pad thai?” Trevor holds out the box of food he’s eating from and I nod shyly. Jamie passes me an unwrapped pair of chopsticks and I thank him quietly, tucking into the half-eaten box. We sit quietly for all but thirty seconds before Trevor is talking about how we need background music. He puts 1989 on shuffle on the tv and Jamie and I roll our eyes perfectly in sync.

“How dare you! Both of you!”

“Honestly, Z, you’re too predictable. Only one person here out of the three of us had Taylor in our Spotify wrapped and I’ll give you a hint, it wasn’t me.” I shrug from behind my box of food. Trevor scoffs before eating an entire dumping whole.

“She was in mine but she was not number one,” Jamie adds insult to injury.

“Okay then, fine. What about this?” Trevor asks, turning on a song by Luke Combs that I’ve never heard. Jamie’s expression is slightly annoyed but delighted all the same. He responds decisively,

“Much better.”

“What?! Am I missing something?” I ask.

“The whole team’s calling him Luke Combs since Jamie’s guitar learning adventure began, but he can only play two chords of one country song.” I look at Jamie for confirmation and he simply nods, biting the inside of his cheek absentmindedly.

“Really, Jame? Two chords?”

“I’m working on it!”

“Yeah, he’s working on it!” Trevor jokingly jumps in to Jamie’s defense, “Like you could do better!”

“Bitch, I can play guitar!” My argument silences both of them immediately. The two boys share a look and then Trevor is off, racing to grab the instrument from Jamie’s bedroom.

“You’re lying, there’s no way.”

“While some of you were busy dedicating a gazillion hours a week to hockey practice, the rest of us expanded our skill sets.” I take the guitar as Trevor hands it to me and situate myself before strumming a quick brush through and immediately cringing. “Your A string is flat.” Jamie looks at me confused, and I extend my hand to take the instrument from him. He yields and passes it over, allowing me to remedy the issue. After tuning the string, I smile and move to hand Jamie the guitar back but he doesn’t move. Instead he nods, urging me to play and I take a deep breath.

“It’s been a while…”

“Oh, don’t back out now!” Trevor teases and I playfully stick my tongue out at him. I adjust my grip, racking my brain for a song, any song. My mind settles on Sweet Creature by Harry Styles and I decide to just go for it. I’m a tad rusty but other than that I have the melody under control. The song is pretty enough on it’s own and I trail off after the first chorus, overcome with a newfound shyness at the looks Jamie and Trevor are giving me. Jamie’s lips are parted in awe and Trevor bursts out laughing.

“You might as well give up now, Jimmy.”

“Lucky for him, I’m an excellent teacher.” I say with a smile, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. Jamie snaps back into reality and begins blushing like crazy.

“I don’t think I’ll ever sound like that.”

“You just need practice. I have a few more years on you so of course I’m gonna sound better than someone who’s just starting. You’ve got this and worse case scenario I can help.”

Jamie smiles sweetly, and my heart skips a beat.

“Will you play it again?”

[tryingtograspctrl]

GLASS (PART THREE) SAM WILSON X BLACK PLUS SIZE READER

SUMMARY - You move from your small town in Louisiana all the way to New york and land yourself a job as the Avenger's personal chef, just when you think you've built a comfy life outside of your sister she finds her way in again and manages to turn your world upside down

A/N - Just for the story to be a little less confusing, your sister’s name will be Janet. I hate the abbreviations y/s/n (your sister’s name) and i’d much rather address her by an actual name.

Warning: Mentions of financial problems, and nasty comments made by fans.

Parts one & two: here and here

Months had passed and you quickly got comfortable being part of the team. Though you weren't out there kicking asses and saving lives alongside the hero's, you were still an important part of their lives and vice versa.

When they weren't keeping the world afloat they were home, doing everything they could to relax and unwind.

One of the ways they did that was an occasional movie night, usually it was set for Friday's but seeing as their schedules were almost always unpredictable they just had them whenever they could.

Everyone gathered in living room, blankets sprawled out on the couch and various assortments of snacks lined up on the coffee table. Tony preferred the theatre room but you argued that the living room felt more cozy so the living room it was.

You were in the kitchen, pulling fresh cookies out of the oven and grabbing a case of beer. You weren't a fan of the beverage but the guys liked to drink them occasionally so you kept them stocked in the fridge.

"I'll grab those for you doll." Bucky took the drinks from your hands walking back toward the couch.

"Thanks honey." You followed behind him.

You took your seat between him and Sam, spreading the blanket out evenly between the three of you. It was the best course of action otherwise they'd just bicker the entire time.

"What are we watching?" You asked sitting the popcorn bowl on your lap.

"Men in black." Natasha answered cracking open a soda can.

Everyone fell silent, waiting for the movie to start but just before it could Jarvis spoke.

“Unknown civilian requesting access to the main floor, performing facial recognition.” The robot spoke.

Everyone stood on high alert, if it was a threat they most likely would’ve forced their way in but they could never be too sure.

“Unknown civilian identified as Janet y/l/n, y/n’s older sister.” Jarvis informed them.

“What?” You dropped the bowl of popcorn, kernels spilling all over the floor.

“Jarvis let her in.” Tony commanded.

You put on your slippers, taking the elevator down to the main floor, the team right behind you.

Jarvis had no reason to lie, hell he was a robot he wasn’t programmed to lie but you had to see for yourself.

The elevator door opened and there she was, standing near the entrance fidgeting.

“Janet?” you called out to her.

“Y/n!” She walked toward you quickly squeezing you in a hug.

You stiffened in her arms, not exactly expecting this reaction from her considering that you weren’t on the best terms the last time you seen each other.

“Hi, what’s going on?” You pulled away from her studying her face.

“Why does something have to be going on for me to come visit my sister?” She huffed in annoyance.

“Janet.” You crossed your arms.

“Fine, fine.” She sighed.

“The lender foreclosed on the house.” She mumbled.

“What?!” You shouted in disbelief making everyone jump.

“How could that happen? I thought you were keeping up with the payments, i’ve been paying my half and you have too right?” You asked.

She swallowed thickly avoiding your eyes.

“Right Janet?” You asked her again, more firmly.

“No i haven’t, you don’t know how hard it’s been since you left, i lost my job and i could barely afford to keep food in the house let alone pay my half of the mortgage.” She confessed.

“You should’ve told me all of this from the beginning, i would’ve pulled your weight until you got back on your feet. That was our childhood home.” You frowned.

“I know, i know and im gonna get it back, i just need some time.” She bit her fingernails anxiously.

“So how’d you get here?” You asked quietly.

“Spent the last of my savings, i had nowhere else to go.” She said.

“Saw you all over social media, Avenger’s new mystery woman.” She joked changing the subject.

You were the number one trending topic when you were spotted out with the team, they did their best to protect your privacy but it was only a matter of time before you were discovered by the rest of the world.

There were a lot of mixed opinions of you, mostly negative, dozens of comments about how you didn’t deserve to be amongst so many good looking people, how you stuck out like a sore thumb standing next to them.

You didn’t let any of that get to you, you heard far worse than in your lifetime and you knew their words weren’t true. You were pretty and damn good at your job, you earned your place and you weren’t gonna let a bunch of losers behind a screen tell you what you did and didn’t deserve.

“Come on, you can stay here for a while until we figure things out, if that’s okay with you?” You turned to Tony who had been watching the entire interaction unfold along with the rest of the team.

“Of course, anyone that’s family to you is family to me.” He smiled.

Steve grabbed your sister’s belongings, the 7 of you heading back to the elevator, making your way back up to the living quarters.

“I’ll show you to your room.” You turned to your sister laughing as she took in her surroundings.

“You get used to it after a while.” You smiled leading her up the stairs.

You were dragging her bags in, placing them near the edge of the bed as she stared at you.

“What?” You finally looked at her.

“You really did find your way out here, i’m proud.” She smiled sweetly.

“Thanks, goodnight Janet.” You smiled too closing the door to her room gently.

Time jump

One week… one week had passed and she was already driving you insane.

The first few days she seemed timid, staying out of everyone’s way and keeping her head down. Completely out of character for her.

You later realized that it was just her observing, getting familiar with the environment before crawling out of her shell.

She had become pretty obnoxious, always talking loudly, commanding all eyes in the room be on her, needing her attention fix.

And she didn’t hesitant to show her attraction to everyone, shamelessly flirting every chance she got, wearing skimpy clothes around the house leaving little to the imagination, even Natasha wasn’t safe from her forwardness and your sister didn’t even like women, at least that’s the impression that she gave you all these years.

Not only that but she was just an awful guest, having no respect for the living space, leaving a trail of trash behind her everywhere she went, random articles of clothing all over and the amount of glitter you found on every surface would take years to clean. What the hell was her obsession with glitter?

Everyone was standing around the kitchen one day, just enjoying each others company. You chopped a few veggies, preparing lunch while the others talked amongst themselves.

Your sister was glued to Bucky, running her fingers up and down his metal arm seductively talking his ear off about something that you didn’t care enough to listen to.

He was clearly uncomfortable, a few short yeah’s and uh huh’s falling out of his mouth as he did his best to inch away from her.

Sam laughed loudly at something you said, placing a hand on your back and that seemed to get her attention.

Bucky silently thanked god as he was finally able to break out of her hold.

“I’m surprised you’ve gotten so good at cooking, remember that time you nearly burned down the house trying to make dad breakfast for his birthday?” She smirked clearly trying to embarrass you.

“1. I was 8 so i didn’t exactly know my way around a kitchen just yet but nonetheless he appreciated the effort and 2. You’re one to insult my cooking skills, you can’t even heat up a pot of water, need i remind you of the boiled egg incident?” You countered snorting.

“That was one time and they only burned because i walked away from the stove, if i was watching them they would’ve turned out just fine.” She huffed.

“Sure.” You nodded sarcastically.

She went quiet for once in her life, opting to just scroll mindlessly on her phone.

A few hours later

You walked down the hall toward your room, the scent of that night’s dinner clung to your clothes and you just wanted to take a hot shower and sink into your bed.

You were passing your sister’s room when you stopped, walking backwards a little to see Sam standing there.

His back was facing you, and your sister was standing in front of him, her eyes locked onto yours and she smiled sinisterly before pulling Sam into a kiss.

You stood there for a few seconds watching as they made out, your feet eventually caught up with your brain and you practically sprinted to your room, hot tears streaming down your face.

He didn’t pull away. The thought echoed in your mind.

You sat on the edge of the bed sobbing, trying to wrap your head around everything.

You liked Sam and you were sure he liked you too, if his actions were anything to go by, but he was just swapping spit with your sister less than five minutes ago. None of it made sense.

You stood up grabbing your suit case from the top of your closet, throwing basically your whole wardrobe into it and placing it on the bed.

You wiped your tears and did your best to make it look like you weren’t crying before heading down to the lab where you were 1000% sure Tony would working.

“Hey.” You poked your head through the door.

“Hey come in.” He opened it wider allowing you to enter.

You looked around in amazement at all the different gadgets, you’d only been in the lab once before and there were definitely way more things than there were last time.

“What’s up kid?” He asked removing his glasses.

“I’m gonna… take a few days off.” You spoke up after a while.

“Why did something happen?” He perked up looking at you curiously.

“No, no not at all, i’ve just been a bit overwhelmed recently and i need some time away, i shouldn’t be gone more than a week.” You lied.

“A week without your cooking is gonna be dreadful but i understand, take all of the time you need.” He gave you a comforting hug.

“Thanks Tony.” You melted in his arms.

You quickly headed back to your room, double checking that you had all that you needed.

You weren’t sure where you were gonna go just yet but you’d figure it out.

A/N - I haven’t proofread this yet so if there are any mistakes please bear with me, i’ll fix them in the morning. This series is nearing the end and i’ve never been more relieved. This takes a lot of energy to write and i just can’t wait for it to be done 😅. Don’t get me wrong i love it but it gets overwhelming from time to time. Part four, the final part should be out tomorrow. I’m glad you guys enjoy this thank you for showing so much love and support! 🌻

Part four : here

[zoeys-writings]

Quality Time (Luke Sullivan ⭐ x Reader)

[Context: Established romantic relationship, Reader is the MC for World Tour, Pre-Italy World Tour spoilers, Fluff]

(a/n: Finally, I WROTE SOMETHING! I'm very sorry this took so long to finally get out, finals are kind of kicking my ass. But alas, I got to finish a fluffy fic with this boi. He's hands down my fave from the base roster, his personality's just.. right up my alley. Hope you guys enjoy this one!)

Ah, relaxing days like these were always the best kind. After yet another grueling training session with Chun-Li, with a sprinkle of getting defeated at video games by Li-Fen, laying down on your couch while watching TV was the best way to relax after a long day of running around in Metro City. There was literally nothing that could possibly interrupt this very chill moment…

…Until you hear the very familiar noise of footsteps from one massive dumbass approaching your relaxed frame. You close your eyes, awaiting a nudge on the shoulder from the man of the hour. What you get instead is a small poke on your cheek, which forces a small chortle out of you. In response, you get another poke. You open a single eye to look smugly at Luke, kneeling down in front of your field of view, away from the TV. Seeing that you’re pretending not to care for his presence, Luke puffs his cheeks and begins to repeatedly boop your cheek, almost reminiscent of a dog asking to be fed.

With an amused sigh, you finally turn to look at him. “Yes, honey?” Placing his head on top of his hands while pouting childishly, Luke responds: “I’m bored, babe.” You sit up from your spot to look directly at him. “And what do you suggest we do about it?” Luke places his head on top of your lap, and you can’t help but hold in a snicker. He gets annoyingly adorable when he’s pouty, you can tell he’s missed you from how long you were out the house. “Play a fighting game with me?”

You can’t help but sigh while patting his head. “As much as I would love to take you up on that, I was destroyed by Li-Fen earlier. I’m kind of burnt out right now.” Luke groaned in response. “Please? I promise I’ll go easy on ya.” “Said the Burnout King. Going easy on me is not your play style, and we both know this, handsome.”

You half expect him to simply huff at your mocking nickname and nuzzle closer. But to your surprise (and sort of delight), your boyfriend proceeds to pick you up from the couch to give you a massive bear hug. “Is it that bad of a thing that I wanna spend quality time with my babe? I haven’t seen ya all day…” Luke says, nuzzling into you. Trying to calm down your racing heart, you hug him back. “I know, sweetheart, I’ve missed you too. Training under Chun-Li has just been a bit of a hassle lately. I want to learn as much as I can from her, y’know?” Pulling back from the hug to give you some space, Luke smiles gently at you. “Yeah, I get it. I can’t teach you absolutely everything about fighting just by myself. Your quest for strength comes first, right?” You shrug with a small chuckle at his last comment.

Suddenly, you feel an idea pop up like a cartoon-y light bulb. “You know what, actually… I was going to see if I could meet up with another fighter soon. And… She’s kind of far away from here...?” Before your boy could get pouty all over again, you raised a hand to continue your proposal. “And, I know how much you like traveling.” Arching an eyebrow with one of his signature goofy smiles, Luke places a hand over one of his ears as if to try to listen better. “And…?” “And, something tells me that her fighting style might be right up your alley.” With that, he crosses both of his arms with a determined smile. “I already like the sound of this.” “To finish my proposal… Have you gone to Italy? And have you heard of pankration?”

With a clap and some finger guns, Luke smiles like the fricking sun while wandering around the place. What he usually does when he gets excited. “Now we’re talking! When can we go? Should we get packing? I can pack your stuff if ya want, just tell me what t-“ You placed your hands over his shoulders in an attempt to calm him down. “Honey, honey, not yet. We gotta plan the whole thing first. You know how it is.” “Yeah, of course! Sorry, it’s just… It’d be our first time traveling together and I’m just… excited, y’know?”

Wait. Holy shit, it would be the first time. In fact, it would be the first in a long time for you as well. For the last few months, it’s just been Luke and Chun-Li, and Metro City so far. But you needed to expand your horizons, and if it took a threat from a Mad Gear Gang member to do so, then so be it. That would be difficult to explain to him; heck, you weren’t even sure if Marisa would be at all willing to accept your request to be taught by her, or help you acquire the missing charm. But you were willing to at least try, and if it didn’t go well, you had an entire country you could explore and have fun in with your boyfriend.

Like he said it himself, you can cross that bridge when you get to it! Most likely tomorrow, but tonight all that is on your mind is the picture of spending a nice vacation with the man you loved the most. Breaking yourself out of your train of thought with a sigh, you smiled gently at Luke. “It is. I’m also very excited.”

Then, with a smirk, you grabbed the remote controller and paused your show. “So excited in fact, I think I managed to gather the energy… To try and kick your ass at a fighting game a couple times.” Luke’s eyes begin to almost sparkle with excitement, instantly running to your console to put the game on. “Oh, hell yeah! Bet ya I can manage to not go on Burnout a single time! See if your lovely title for me actually stands up!” You grab your controller then sit down on the couch with a confident smile. “Oh, it will. Bet your precious bag of sour cream and onion chips that it will.” Luke plopped himself down on the couch, almost knocking you down but also bringing a laugh out of you. “Oh. It. Is. On, babe.”

[reminiscingtonight]

Get Got

Rose Lavelle x Morgan!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: The way Alex’s Snacks episode instantly inspired a couple fics...

[WOSO Masterlist]

Rose has been squirrely since you got up this morning. 

After your late night in LA you decided you deserved to sleep in a bit, given your practice had been moved to the afternoon. This meant that Rose, ever the morning person she is, was already up and running around the house by the time you graced her with your presence.

Blinking owlishly, you yawn out a “good morning” and give her a kiss when she presses a warm mug of coffee into your hands. 

“Sleep well?” she asks, fingers toying with the ends of your hair. 

You hum in response, not missing the way her feet are tapping at the ground around you. The last time she was this full of energy she kept you in bed for nearly an entire day, only letting you out of the room when you finally tapped out, body fully cramped out by all of the pleasure she was happily giving you. But given that you had to be at training in less than an hour, you knew neither of you had time to work out all of her energy. 

Rose hasn’t seen much of the field after returning from camp with a bit of a leg problem, so it made sense that she seemed to have so much energy. What didn’t make sense is the way she keeps switching through the songs on your brief drive over to training. Or the way she can’t seem to sit still in the locker room. 

Even Megan seems to be taken off guard, throwing her sock at Rose’s forehead the third time your girlfriend runs a lap around everyone as you all change into your workout gear.

“Have you listened to Sammy’s podcast yet?”

Her comment comes just as you trudge onto the field, lightly jogging your warm up.

You shake your head, laughing at the crinkle between her eyebrows. “Babe, I’ve been with you all morning.” You briefly remember your sister telling you something about finally being invited onto your friends’ podcast, but to be honest you hadn’t really planned on listening to her episode until later in the week during your free time. Obviously you wouldn’t plan on skipping it, but the two of you had your own lives, not everything you did had to revolve around each other.

Before you can ask Rose about her question, Sonnett’s crashing your solitude, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders. “How are my favorite midfielders on this fine April day?”

“Don’t let Lindsey hear you say that,” you snort, shrugging the blonde’s arm off of you.

Sonnett looks like she’s about to say something else, but a quick elbow into her gut by Rose quickly shuts her up. You frown, tilting your head in question at your girlfriend, but she pretends not to notice, starting on a random tangent.

You don’t have a chance to question either of them, as Laura’s quick to call in the team and start doling out exercises. 

By the time someone else brings up Sam and Lynn’s podcast, you had already forgotten about Rose’s weird behavior.

It’s near the end of practice. Half of the girls were already back inside, getting iced and doing a quick recovery session. You and some of the others had stuck around to help clean up the field before heading their way. 

Sofia slinks up next to you, handing you one of the cones on the ground. You give her a nod in thanks, quick to move onto the next cone. 

“Did you know you’re dating an evil mastermind?” Sofia chuckles.

You’re not really sure what prompted her to say that, but you can’t help but laugh and give her a grin. “Tell me something I don’t know. Rose is an evil mastermind but at least she’s an evil mastermind who loves me and wouldn’t dare to prank me lest I make her sleep on the couch.”

You love Rose for so many reasons. Like almost too many to count. But that girl was a bit of a monster when it comes to pulling pranks on all of your friends. The couple of years before you officially began dating was a bit rough, you not ever knowing if you would be met with “friend” Rose or “in a pranking mood” Rose every time you saw each other. It’s been three years since, and “girlfriend” Rose was much more likely to treat you to chocolates and flowers than try to pull a quick one on you.

“What a shame her leniency doesn’t extend to the rest of your family.”

When you look at her with a confused face, Sofia’s quick to meet your expression with one of her own. “I’m assuming you haven’t listened to Alex’s Snacks episode yet?”

When you shake your head, she’s quick to pull out her phone. You’re a bit amused to see the episode sitting paused in her Spotify, but she must’ve been listening to it before coming to practice.

Sofia rewinds a little bit, having nearly finished the episode already.

You’re greeted with your sister’s raspy voice as she presses play. 

It’s all the typical stuff you were expecting. Some talk about Taylor Swift, Alex’s favorite songs from her album, Rose’s obsession with Taylor Swift conspiracies--

And that’s when you hear it.

“Yeah, but you can’t ever trust what she says. Like do you think she’s telling the truth?”

“Hot take, you can’t trust Rose.”

By the time Alex’s done detailing her run-in with Rose and Sonnett during camp, you’re laughing so hard that you have to wipe tears from your eyes. 

It’s often a rarity for you to not be in camp, but you had missed this past one due to a slight injury that’s been healed since. Everyone’s been home for a couple of days now, but this is the first time you’re hearing about any pranks being pulled against Alex.

“Did she actually--” you question, still trying to catch your breath. 

Sofia nods, still grinning like crazy. “Alex got a little pouty when she realized they were playing her.”

Sometimes Rose and Alex’s relationship made you want to laugh. When Rose first met your sister she was terrified. Not even dating yet at that point, you had to reassure Rose time and time again that Alex didn’t hate her. And look at them now. Now most times you have to reassure Alex that Rose didn’t have it out to get her. 

It’s all done in good spirit, but it looks like you’re going to have to convince Alex not to eye your girlfriend with distrust again the next time you’re all in the same room.

The two of you are still joking about it when you roll into the recovery room. 

It’s a bit cute how Rose perks up when she sees you, hands instantly making a grabby motion. Sofia takes one look at the brunette before breaking out into laughter again, pushing you towards your girlfriend before going to the other side of the room. 

Rose frowns after the defender, unfortunately still stuck in her compression boots. She opens her mouth to question Sofia, but you press a kiss to her forehead before she can say anything. 

Your kiss does its job, pulling Rose’s attention back to you. 

Although she looks up at you lovingly, she’s quick to narrow her eyes at the amusement dancing around your face. “Okay, what did Sof tell you.”

“Babe, you and Sonny need to stop tormenting Al.”

“Alex needs tougher skin,” she snorts in response, instantly knowing what you’re referring to.

“She got got!” Sonnett adds, throwing her arms up in celebration. 

You roll your eyes in amusement. “Go away, Son.” You turn back to Rose. She’s looking a little smug at successfully fooling your sister again. “Don’t go acting like you weren’t terrified of her when I was introducing you as my girlfriend for the first time.”

“Alex is scary,” Rose nods. But the smirk is quick to come back. “Until she isn’t.”

Sonnett lets out a hoot in agreement, giving Rose a fist bump. 

Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with literal children. 

And then you remember that children are fun to fool with too, and it makes everything so much better. 

“You know, she’s not wholly convinced that you aren’t dating me as some way to prank her.”

It takes a second for your words to sink in, but when they finally do, Rose is sitting up in alarm. “Wait, what.” 

You let out a hum as you stand up to go to your own table. 

“That’s a joke, right?” she nervously chuckles, unable to go after you while she still has the boots on.

With your back to her, you don’t have to worry about hiding your grin. All she can see is your shoulders as you shrug, making your way to the other side of the room. 

“Babe! That’s a joke, right?!” Rose’s half terrified voice follows after you. 

Alex is going to have a field day when you tell her about this later.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

Chapter 5; Something Sweet

Kendall Roy x Reader

a/n: tell a friend to tell a friend… she’s baaaaack

as always, your replies and reblog comments bring me immense joy, so speak your mind <3 enjoy x

Word Count: 3.404k

The week of Christmas is the busiest of your year. You have tons of odd jobs catering around the city, and of course, the Roy residence Christmas day.

Kendall comes by when he can. His days at Waystar are getting busier and busier despite the upcoming holidays. He’s sat on your couch, practically asleep. You peer at him from over your kitchen counter.

“Are you alright?”

“Fucking exhausted.”

Over the last few weeks, you’d gotten to watch as he got more comfortable with you. After your first time staying the night at his place, it turned into a regular thing. If you went over, you’d stay, and if he came, he’d stay- like tonight.

“You’re literally the CEO. Give yourself the week off.” You eye the pot of noodles boiling. You were a baker, sure, but that didn’t mean you were too good cooking.

“I can’t just do that,” he says exasperatedly.

You hesitantly drain the water from the pot. “It’s in the job description, Ken. Do whatever the fuck you want.”

“If I do, that means my workload goes to my brother, and he’s going to fuck it all up. It needs to happen right, Y/N.”

You sigh. “You’re the finance bro.”

“I’m not a- whatever that is. Stop calling me that.” He rolls onto his stomach, pulling one of the sofa cushions over his head. “Can you turn off the lights, please?”

You do. “What’s wrong?”

“Headache,” is all he offers, muffled by the cushion.

“Take at least half a week off.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Christmas is already too much. And I have to spend it with my father.” He makes a strangled noise.

“Come back with me after I’m done in the afternoon,” you suggest, plating the pasta. “We can spend a quiet night in where you can drool all over my couch all you like.”

He snorts.

“Do you want me to wait for you so we can eat together?”

“What? No, Y/N, eat. Leave me a plate, I’ll be fine.”

“Hmm, okay. I’ll wait.” You lift his legs from the couch and sit, setting them back on top of your lap. The food would get cold, but you didn’t mind. You give the back of his calf a pat.

“This is weird,” Kendall mutters, shifting so that his head is now in your lap rather than his legs. “Better,” he mutters into your thigh.

“I’m being serious about spending Christmas together,” you tell him.

“I can come over after six. I still want to see the kids.” You push your fingers through his hair. He’d almost buzzed it, but thankfully, you’d convinced him otherwise. “What do you want? As gifts, I mean.”

You take a moment to think, playing with his hair. “Nothing comes to mind, really. I’m content.”

“Mm, don’t bullshit me. Everyone wants at least something.”

“Ken, we’re by ourselves. Turn off the CEO.”

“Hard to.” He sighs contentedly, your fingers running down his neck and onto the expanse of his back. “Come on, don’t tell me there isn’t some ridiculously expensive thing I can get you.”

“I can’t ask that of you. Or anyone, really.” You aren’t lying- there’s nothing you’ve been dying for lately. You had your bakery, you had this thing with Kendall. That’s all you’re beginning to think you’ll ever need.

“Y/N, money isn’t a problem for me. Don’t worry about it.” He rolls over so that your fingers drag onto his chest and he’s able to look up at you. “Tell me what you want.”

“I’m being serious, I can’t think of anything,” you insist as he takes the hand sitting on his chest, twining your fingers together and pressing them to his heart. “Just be there. That can be my present.”

“That’s the lamest Christmas gift I’ve ever heard anybody ask for,” he retorts. “What’re you into? Jewelry? Designer? Vintage stuff?”

“Kendall, I’m not budging.”

He presses lazy kisses along your fingers. “Come on. I want to.”

“Well, I can’t help you. There’s nothing I want but for you to knock on my door and then spend the night with me.”

“I can’t just show up empty handed,” he says. “What a horrible guest I’d be, after you’ve been so hospitable.”

“Does it count as hospitality if you’re the one who’s been steals pastry rejects from downstairs?”

He laughs, the sound coming straight from his stomach. It’s the first time he’s been so loose around you. It’s hearty, joyful. You want to hear it again and again. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“You act like the raccoon that lives in my Dumpster. She’s much cuter than you, you know. Makes up for her being a leech.”

He laughs again. “My competition is a raccoon that eats garbage for a living? I thought men would be fist fighting for you. Or women. I don’t judge.” He plays gently with your fingers. “But I could easily beat a raccoon in hand to hand combat."

“No, the raccoon isn’t vying for my affection, like another certain someone,” you tease. “And even if people were fighting over me, I’d choose you.” You pause. "Why are we talking about fighting raccoons?"

Kendall’s eyes meet yours, and he’s silent for a moment. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

You don’t hesitate.

“’Course I will.”

It’s quiet again, for what feels like a century. He pushes himself up off your lap, takes your chin, and kisses the breath from your lungs.

His hand slides from your chin and up your jaw to allow his fingers to tangle in your hair. He pulls you tighter against him, deepening the kiss, and parting his lips when you do.

He kisses you incessantly, barely letting you breathe. Your hand finds his wrist, the other attempting to find purchase in the soft fabric of his shirt. He presses his lips to yours, over and over, like he’s trying to fuse with you, make you a part of him.

When he pulls away, you suck in a breath of air. “Fuck, baby.” Without hesitating, he’s dotting kisses up your jaw, then down your neck. “I want you so bad,” he murmurs into your skin. “I’ve wanted you so bad. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. So fucking beautiful.”

Before you can say anything, his mouth is back on yours. This time, he’s slow, tender. He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You can feel the slight swell of your lips. You can see it mirrored in Kendall’s, his lips a light rosy color.

“I’ll get you a lipstick or something,” he whispers to you, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “This same shade.”

જ⁀➴

Christmas Eve. A weird day for you. You were never really close with your family, and you rarely spoke now. It hurt watching others run about with their loved ones. But what could you do?

You’re paranoid going through all of the ingredients set to be brought to you tomorrow. You pore through them, over and over, and check needlessly on some jellies and frostings chilling in the fridge. You’ll have help tomorrow with the baking, of course, but you just had an unshakable fear that someone was going to mess something up- you probably will be doing all of the busy work tomorrow. You can’t take the chance. Kendall’s paranoia is rubbing off on you.

As soon as you think the thought, he’s shouldering open the back door. You must’ve forgotten to lock it. “Hey. You’re still up?”

“You came all the way over here to ask me that?”

He rolls his eyes and catches you by the waist when you try to walk by. You give him a kiss hello and he presses a sweet kiss to your brow. “Yeah, yeah. I drove a whole ten minutes to ask if you’re awake,” he says sarcastically. He presses another kiss to the side of your forehead. “I knew you were still awake. So I came to keep you company.”

You close your eyes, resting your face against his chest. “You okay?” His hand smooths up your spine, gently scratching when he reaches the nape of your neck. “You need to go to sleep.”

“No,” you manage, his touch making you feel ethereal. “No, I have to make sure everything’s ready.”

“You can do that in the morning. You’re going to fall asleep standing up, Y/N.”

“Stay?”

“Brought my bag.”

All the times he’d stayed over before, he’d insisted he took the couch. He was adamant about being ‘gentlemanly’, as he put it, and you’d let him. You were going to take this as slow as he needed it to be.

Tonight, however, you were over it.

When he went to toss his bag onto the couch, you frowned. “You’re sleeping in the bed. With me.” Without hesitating, he reroutes and sinks into your mattress, spreading his limbs out like a starfish. “You want to get kicked out?” you ask, pushing him aside so you can settle into bed.

His arms wind around you, pulling you close. “Your couch is comfy. I wouldn’t mind.” You huff, curling into him regardless. “You sure you won’t stay for dinner? We’re together now. It’s not weird.”

”For me it is. I’d be meeting your ex-wife and both your kids. That’s a little quick, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you say. I’ll bring you leftovers.”

“How sweet,” you say drolly. He kisses your cheek in response.

You’re up bright and early the next morning. Your anxiety is through the roof- you’ve never catered an event of this magnitude. You’d done much larger groups, but Logan Roy? You felt like puking.

You get over yourself as you get ready. Kendall’s tangled up in your sheets, asleep. You don’t want to wake him up yet- his head is buried under his pillow and his chest raises and falls softly. You dig through your closet for clothes suitable for the day. You find a relatively new baking uniform that you pray is lightweight. You’ll be in front of an oven or stove top for the next five hours; it’d be preferable you didn’t melt into a puddle.

Kendall shifts slightly in bed before calling out to you. “Y/N?”

“In the closet,” you reply. He doesn’t answer, but you hear the rustling of sheets. You hurry back out into the bedroom, throwing a half apron over your shoulder. You make sure your phone is charged and that you have everything you need in a bag- the jellies and frostings will be taken over by someone else later.

“Good morning,” Kendall rasps, catching your hand. He’s emerged from under the pillow, his hair disheveled. He presses a quick kiss to your knuckles. “You’ll be great.”

You smile and give him a kiss on the lips. “Get up. You’re driving.”

He wipes a hand over his face. “That was the best sleep of my life,” he mutters before rolling out of bed. He finds his bag, left on the floor from the night before, and pulls out a hoodie to wear in the early morning chill. “Do you really need to go so early?”

“Everything needs to be perfect. Better early than late.”

“You know if something goes wrong, he’s not going to shoot you,” Kendall says, voice muffled by the fabric being tugged over his head. “I’ll eat anything and everything you make and enjoy it. Besides, my dad isn’t a picky man. With his food, anyway.”

“What about the last pastry chef? That incident you mentioned when we first met.”

“He’d chucked a pineapple at my brother. He deserved it, yeah, but it’s about decorum,” he says faux-seriously. He hooks an arm around your neck, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he walks with you to the door.

You try to regulate your breathing on the drive over. You’re successful- nothing will go wrong. Nothing can go wrong. You’re sure of it. After you convince yourself of it, anyway. Kendall holds your hand over the center console, gently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“You stress too much,” he says softly.

“Wasn’t I just saying that to you, the other day?”

“Tch, shut up. We’re talking about you, not me.” He pulls in near the townhouse. “I get hungry just looking at your display case. Shiv inhales your stuff whenever I bring it to the office. You’ll kill it, Y/N, I promise.”

You kiss each other one last time, and then you’re on your own.

You’re granted access into the townhouse, and the kitchen, quite easily. You take a breath, steeling yourself, and tie your apron.

Marcia had obliged you when you said you’d need a little help. She hadn’t provided you with one or two people, like you’d been expecting, but a small battalion. You didn’t really know what you were going to do with half of these people. Maybe you’ll just let some of them go home.

Nobody’s really doing anything, but that’s good. You think you’ll blow a gasket if even a sprinkle goes out of line today. You quietly inventory what you have- people, pots, pans, ingredients, tools. This shouldn’t prove to be that difficult.

You gather the obscene amount of people and quickly explain what you intend on doing today, Things that need to chill get made first. Delay the better-served-hot desserts as much as physically possible. Keep the whipped cream and frosting in the fridge- better yet, nobody touch either of those. I’ll decorate everything myself. You can all go home once everything is in the oven.

The beginning is all just busywork. Make the batter, put the batter in a buttered pan, stick it in the oven, repeat. Half work on fillings and creams, the other half on batters and doughs. Although you tend to dislike having people in your employment, this reminds you of your days in pastry school. You ran things with an iron fist back then- you still do. That’s why every team you begrudgingly head runs like a well oiled machine.

Things are going in and out of the ovens. Whisks click against metal bowls, feet patter about the kitchen. From what you can tell, you’re well on schedule. Toppings are beginning to be made, and it’s getting closer to time to start on the warm sweets.

You take a moment to stand and observe, making sure everybody is on track. You do, however, catch someone peeping into the kitchen. You catch his eye, and step out before he can step in.

“Can I help you?” you ask cooly.

He puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m just watching.” His dark hair is slicked back, a slight stubble lining his face. The bags under his eyes are deep- they remind you of Kendall.

“As long as that’s all you’re doing.” You turn your attention away from him as the last of the pans get out the oven. “Okay, everyone, you’re free to go. Enjoy your holidays, feel free to take home extras,” you say blandly, itching to get to work.

You glance at the clock- two hours before you’re to be done. You don’t really have that much heavy lifting to do. Decorate the larger cakes, frost the batches of cupcakes, and garnish everything that needs to be garnished. You think you can finish with time to spare.

As you’re swirling buttercream onto a red velvet cake, the man from before appears at your elbow. You throw him a warning look before getting back to the cupcakes. Once frosted, you sprinkle crushed bits of red velvet cake onto the buttercream.

“If you’re going to hover, stick those in the fridge, would you?”

Taken by surprise, he snaps out of his stupor and carefully carries the tray and obliges.

“Sorry. I’m just curious.”

“About?” You don’t look away from what you’re doing.

“Uh, lots of things. For one, the fact that you’re doing this all by yourself.”

“I like it better that way.”

“You’re Kendall’s girl, right?”

“What do you mean? He got me this job, yeah.”

“That’s not- okay, whatever.” He flocks back to your side, staring as you quickly frost perfect flowers onto a chocolate cake. “That’s… crazy.”

“Poetic.”

“I’m trying to be nice,” he mutters. “Sorry. I’m Roman. Kendall’s brother. I got sick of sitting in the living room with the old geezer, so I ended up here.”

You outright laugh at the reference to his father. “It’s nice to meet you, really, but I’m kind of on a time crunch.”

He says nothing. You glance back at him, feeling kind of bad. “There’s a bunch of cupcakes I’m not going to put out on a tray on top of the fridge. If you want one,” you amend.

“I see why he likes you. You’re kind of the same person.”

You snort. “I feel like we’re hardly alike.” You sigh and glance around, inspecting your work. Roman helps himself to the treats you’d pointed out.

“When you’re both working, you’re kind of assholes. When you’re not…”

“You don’t know me to be able say that.”

“I know how to read people,” is all he says back. You roll your eyes, wiping your hands on the towelette you’d stuck into your waistband. “These are rejects? Jesus, you’re fucking good.” He wipes away a vanilla crumb from his lip.

“Tell me how the real stuff is.” You sigh exasperatedly. “Well, I’m done here. Nice meeting you…?” You cringe, having already forgotten his name.

“Roman.”

“Roman. Sorry.”

He holds up another cupcake in mock salute. “Drive safe.”

જ⁀➴

You take the fattest nap of your life back at home, waking up just in time to get ready for Kendall. Not exactly get ready, but just move from your bed to the couch. You can’t be bothered to put any work into your appearance at the moment.

Kendall had promised to come by at six, and it was currently six thirty. You think nothing of it.

Until it’s seven and a weak knock sounds at your door. Kendall stands on the other side, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand and something hidden behind his back. His eyes are slightly red, the bags under his eyes matching Roman’s.

“I’m really sorry I’m late,” he tells you, voice cracking. “Ran into some… issues.”

“You’re here now.” You smooth your thumb over one of the dark patches under his eyes. “What happened?” You step aside, letting him in. He carefully sets the flowers on your kitchen counter, keeping whatever it is he’s holding behind his back.

“Dad was… fucking insane. I’m used to his berating bullshit, but today was… so much worse.” He turns to face you. “Never mind that. I have something for you.”

“Kendall, I told you you didn’t need to bring anything.”

“I did anyway. It’s nothing huge. It’s kind of stupid, actually,” he admits, face flushing. “Close your eyes?”

You do. After a moment, you feel a cool touch of metal to your neck. He fumbles with something, his hand brushing the back of your neck. Keeping your eyes closed, you bring your fingers to your neck and feel a chain.

“Cheater,” he mutters affectionately. “You can open, anyway.” You lift up the chain and inspect the charms.

Both your initials, dangling next to each other.

“Kendall!”

“I know, it’s kind of cheesy, and honestly probably too fast-”

“No, I love it! It’s so beautiful,” you say truthfully. Your heart swells.

“I, uh, got one to match.” He pulls a thinner chain with much smaller charms from under his shirt. You throw you arms around him, and he immediately hoists you up and gives you a small spin.

“My gift makes me look like a cheap asshole now,” you tell him after giving him a long kiss.

“You got me something?”

“Of course I did.” You quickly grab the small gift bag from its hiding place and come back to him. “It’s definitely not the sort of quality that you’re used to, which is why this is probably such a horrible gift. But you were complaining about how your tie clips are always breaking, and you didn’t like the shape of your cuff links because they scratched up your skin…” You press the bag into his hands.

“Oh, Y/N…” He takes out the two small velvet boxes. A pristine new tie clip and pair of cuff links- round, so they wouldn’t catch on his skin. “You’re perfect.”

[avocadoguru]

Do we have any sneak peaks for the next part 👀

Also I love wolfrry so much 😭 everything you give us is a blessing

Suddenly she had an idea. Maybe he was at his old apartment. There was a chance he still had it since everything happened so fast, so maybe his lease wasn’t up. He had no reason to be there, and she figured it was a wild goose chase but she wanted answers. Wanted to know if perhaps he was there. It was late but she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she didn’t at least try.

*

Standing in front of the apartment door she took a deep breath before rapping her knuckles on the wood. 

When she heard movement and then the clicking of the door lock her breathing halted and she felt a jolt of relief, of hope, and then of dread. Why was he there… Who was he there with?

However, as the door swung open, standing there was a sleepy Niall wearing cotton pajamas and messy hair. His eyes widened when he realized who it was knocking at his door.

“Niall?!”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. Uh… Is Harry here?” She asked looking behind him into the apartment. The lights were off. He was clearly sleeping before she arrived.

“No. Uh. It’s just me here.” Niall scratched the back of his neck and looked up at her before realizing his manners, “Would you like to come in?”

Nodding, Y/N walked in and looked around. It looked exactly the same. All of the furniture that Harry had was still placed around the living room in the exact same spots, “Why are you here?” She turned and asked him. It was all very odd but she felt something click into place suddenly without him even needing to answer. She recalled the picture of Niall on the dresser and how now, in this moment, with him standing in the living room as he turned on a lamp, this place felt like him. Like Niall. The medical books, the knick-knacks…

“Oh… uh- well that’s because, um… I needed a new place. So, I am, uh… taking over the lease. Yeah, and it just worked out perfectly,” he laughed nervously as Y/N eyed him suspiciously.

“Really? Interesting…” She wanted to comment more about that knowing he wasn’t being honest with her but her immediate concern was Harry. “So, I know this may sound a bit overly dramatic but I don’t know where Harry is. I was supposed to see him after I got off work today. I got to his new house and no one was there. I’ve called him and nothing. And now it’s hours later and still, I haven’t heard from him. It’s just… not like him.” A lie. But he didn’t need to know she’d been through this before with him. “So you don’t know where he is?”

Niall cinched his brows together in thought. It would be very unusual for Harry to not be somewhere he said he’d be. Especially when it came to Y/N. He knew how the alpha felt about the human. So now, Niall was concerned as well.

“I haven’t heard from him today at all actually. Umm…” he pursed his lips before continuing, “So, what time were you supposed to get to his house?”

“At 8. He said he’d have dinner ready for me when I arrived.”

“Hmm… And when was the last time you saw him?”

“This afternoon. We drove back from his uncle’s this morning and when we arrived at his house I left right away so I could make it to work on time.”

Niall sat down on the couch and rubbed his palms over his face, “That doesn’t make sense,” he spoke quietly, mostly to himself but Y/N heard him.

Sitting down next to him on the couch Y/N wondered if Niall did know something. His response to not knowing where Harry could be was concerning. She half expected him to joke about how Harry was probably fine or something. But Niall seemed actually concerned. 

“Do you know something, Niall? Anything? Is there something going on I should know about?”

Niall shook his head and kept his eyes down toward the floor, “Nah. It’s probably nothing.” 

There it was. The response she expected of him at the beginning except now it had come too late and she’d watched the way he responded initially. 

“Then why do you seem so concerned?”

Looking into her eyes Niall tried to feign confidence in his words, “Oh… I mean. I was just tired and I was sort of out of it. But you… he’s fine I’m sure.”

She could see right through him. Niall was a terrible liar. She smiled and patted his knee before standing up, “If you say so. But will you please call me if you do know something or you hear from him?”

Niall stood up and nodded, “Of course, Y/N.”

sneak peek from Lupus Noctis/ Chapter 10

[bunnyreaper]

see on both sides

pairings - gabriel reyes x f!reader, niran pruksamanee x f!reader, gabriel reyes x niran pruksamanee wc -  4.2k warnings - dubious consent, power dynamics, dom/sub, threesome, possessive sex, exhibitionism. notes - sequel to i still get jealous, or read both on ao3!

The knock on the door comes as a complete surprise. 

A tough day of training has you wiped out, and you're half tempted to tell whoever is at the door to come back later. If you were still in your own quarters, you'd probably ignore it, but in case it's someone looking for Gabriel, you best answer. 

Even making it to the door is a slog, but your disgruntled expression is wiped away as you open the door to see a smiling Niran standing outside. 

"Hello Y/N." He greets, lips curled and eyes crinkled. 

"Oh, Niran, hi!" You reply, taken aback by his presence. While the two of you have been developing a friendship, he'd never paid a personal visit before. "How did you know where to find me?" 

"This was somewhat of a giveaway." He smirks, nodding to the nameplate by the door that reads COMMANDER GABRIEL REYES. 

"I'll give you that." You laugh. You're about to step aside to allow him in, before you freeze. "Can I help you with something?" 

His smile widens, and he appears just as charming as he always does. "I was just looking for a friendly ear." He states. 

"Sure, come in." You hold open the door for him to enter, and hope against everything you won't regret the decision. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"That wouldn't go amiss, thank you." 

You head for the liquor cabinet, and hope that a little drink will help take the edge off. Niran is your friend, but the last thing you want to do is give Gabe more reason to worry. Letting the blonde man into your apartment alone is sure to get Gabriel's back up a little—God forbid Niran leaves his scent on the couch cushions.

You frown harshly, reconsidering your decision. 

"Long day?" Niran pipes up, voice patient and inquisitive upon seeing your sour expression.

You school it back into something pleasant. 

"Something like that. How was your day?" You return to Niran, offering him the drink before you both take a seat on opposite ends of the couch.  "From what I've heard, you're usually in the lab much later than this." 

"Usually, but it is a Friday night, after all." He sends you a wink, which brings your nerves rushing back. "I work hard, but I play harder." 

Taking a long sip of your drink, you chuckle awkwardly. Niran is sweet, and you suppose his flirtatious nature is just how he is—surely, he doesn't mean anything by it. "I don't really have the energy for playing hard." You reply as a subtle rebuttal.

"Really?" He raises his brows, his smile remaining cheeky. "Has being with the Commander aged you prematurely?" 

"Very funny, Niran." Your eyes roll playfully. "A little, but I keep him young too. We like the balance." You offer in response, again attempting to dissuade any strange notions the man might be having. 

"So, how was your day? Hopefully a lot easier than mine." You ask, changing the topic. Niran's research is intriguing beyond belief, and his enthusiasm is infectious. 

He's about to reply, no doubt launching into an excited monologue, when the door opens. 

"Well, this looks cozy." Gabriel comments, a slight edge to his voice, and he stares at the scene in front of him.

Shit. You feel caught, even though you're technically not doing anything wrong. 

"Commander Reyes." Niran greets him quickly and cheerfully. "I'm glad you could join us." 

That nervous feeling is back with the way Niran greets Gabe like he didn't just walk into his own quarters. This isn't going to end well, you think. 

"Sit down, I'll grab you a drink." You rush back to the cabinet to fetch Gabriel a drink, knowing he could do with a little mellowing in the form of alcohol and being tended to by you.

Gabriel takes your seat, as you pour him a large measure of whiskey. 

"How was your day, Commander?" Niran asks politely, either unaware or uncaring of the complete shift in atmosphere. 

"Long." Gabriel huffs, throwing his arm over the back of the couch and making himself comfortable and at home. Almost like he owns the place, because well, he does. "But, I was looking forward to coming home and relaxing." 

"Well, this'll help." You interject, rushing over with the glass in hand as you thrust it toward Gabriel, a quiet way of saying 'Drink this and be quiet'.  

"Sit with me." He murmurs up at you, spreading his legs to accommodate you sitting between them.

So that's how this is going to go, you sigh. 

You seat yourself in between his legs, feeling his radiating warmth before whispering a warning. "Play nice." 

You turn your attention back to Niran, hoping to lighten the mood and do away with the mounting tension. 

Surely, when Gabriel sees the nature of your engagement with Niran, he'll see that you clearly show the man where he stands. "So, do you have other plans tonight, Niran?" 

"Not as such, no. See where the night takes me. I was hoping you'd be free for a little fun." He chuckles, clearly not sensing your desperation and discomfort.

Of course, he wouldn't make it easy for you. 

"Give me a little notice next time, I can show you a place or two, Gabe will come too, right?" Your laugh is still nervous as you clearly try to smooth things over. 

"We'll see." He says shortly.

"You know, not to play favorites, but you definitely have been one of the most welcoming at Overwatch." Niran continues entirely unprompted, and if you didn't find him so thoroughly likable, you'd strangle him to death with his own long blonde locks. 

There's no way he's this clueless as to the effect he's having, right?

"I try my best, I know what it's like to be new." You scramble to think of another deflection, hating the defensive stance you're having to take in every aspect of the conversation. You can feel how rigid Gabriel is behind you.

The two of you usually talk so normally. Maybe it's the weekend feeling, but Niran is clearly in a certain excitable mindset. 

"But I imagine there's a lot of people trying to ingratiate themselves with you right now." You add on, trying to turn the conversation away from yourself. 

"A little, but none as lovely as you."  He comments.

Does that smirk not hurt his face from maintaining it for so long?

"The coffee you make is divine, too." He has the audacity to look straight past you to Gabriel, and his comment makes you swallow thickly. 

Despite the initial aesthetic appreciation, your attraction to Niran is minimal. Yet he seems determined to misconstrue your intentions, whether by ignorance or malice, you don't know. 

"Oh, is that where you disappear during lunch?" Gabriel's voice is strained, and you can tell he's probably going to ask more questions when the two of you are alone. You're in trouble.

"Yeah... sometimes." You comment awkwardly, feeling self-conscious about it. Your ass is gonna be red raw later. 

Niran picks up the conversation. "I do tend to forget to look after myself when I'm busy working." 

The rest of his words fall on deaf ears, as Gabriel's arm slips around you, settling on your exposed thigh and offering a firm squeeze. He chooses the same time to press a delicate, distracting kiss to your shoulder. "Gabe." You whisper, but Niran stops talking. 

"Mmm? Something the matter?" In your peripheral, you can tell Gabriel's eyes are on Niran, sending him a heated look. "Just showing appreciation for my girl."  He comments simply, his voice laced with possessiveness.

"Uh..." You squirm uncomfortably, enjoying the attention yet wishing the two of you were alone. His hand stops squeezing, and his lips stop kissing, so you assume he's going to play nice and relax back into his hold.

"You always brighten my day whenever you drop by." The blonde continues, digging your grave further. 

"She has that effect." Gabe purrs, his demeanor shifting entirely as his hand dips down to your inner thigh, his fingers stretching out to trace across your clothed cunt.

"Gabe!" You exclaim, in complete disbelief, slamming your legs shut—horrified at the idea of him playing with you in front of your friend. 

"What?" He doesn't stop his movements, and you watch transfixed as Niran's eyes observe Gabriel's fingers move, with a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "Our guest doesn't mind, does he?" Gabriel adds, his words a dare, a challenge. 

"Not at all. As long as you're enjoying yourself." Niran seems completely unfazed. 

You try to battle the steadily climbing arousal as you try to think straight. 

As your thoughts slip away, one final coherent thing slips through.

Niran's behavior was entirely on purpose. That bastard. 

"I, yeah." You sigh, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you give in to the pleasure and Gabe rubs at your clit through your shorts. You can still sense his eyes on Niran, and the thought makes you shiver. 

This display is for him.  

You're just a pawn in their game, but from how wet you are, you clearly can't mind all that much. 

"No need to hide from me." It's Niran's turn for his voice to turn silky and sultry, as he sips at his drink and continues to spectate your undoing. 

"Hear that baby?" Gabe coos, his voice much softer now, he has you falling apart on his fingers and all of his blood has rushed elsewhere too.  "Spread your legs, show him that pretty pussy." 

"I—" You hesitate for a moment, trying to think over the implications of the act and yet desperately wanting to comply with Gabriel's gentle commands. The rubbing only adds to your need to listen to him.

You allow your legs to fall open, before pulling your shorts and panties to the side to bare yourself to Niran.

His eyes sparkle with delight as he lays eyes on your flesh, and Gabriel's fingers move to find your nub unhindered. 

"She's so wet already." He offers, his thick fingers swirling said wetness around your needy nub. "She always is when I'm touching her. Tell him how it feels, cariño." 

Once more, he gives you a command, and you feel the need to obey as you always do. 

"Niran..." You whisper, your voice strained as you test the waters in voicing your pleasure.

"Yes, sweetheart?" 

You were already blushing under his gaze, but now your face is ablaze as nerves battle arousal. "Feels so good." 

Niran smiles in a genuine, sweet way. "Looks like he's taking good care of you." 

"Mhmm." You whine, slipping your eyes shut and concentrating on the pleasure, the tingling sensation, the coiling feeling.

"Tell her that you want her." Gabriel turns his commands on Niran, breaking an entirely new barrier. 

"Gabe—" You gasp, eyes springing open as you're shocked and somewhat concerned on behalf of Niran.

Yet, the man himself finds no objection.

"(Y/N), you look divine." He answers easily, his voice returning to its flirtatious tone. "From the moment I laid eyes on you, I thought about the sounds you'd make." 

Upon hearing his confession, Gabriel grows and starts working his fingers faster and harder, forcing you into deeper euphoria.

"This is the closest you'll get to touching her yourself." His words rumble through you. He works with fervor, drawing moans and gasps from you. "Enjoy it while it lasts." 

"Oh, I intend to." Niran winks, before returning his gaze to your exposed pussy and leaking wetness.

"Fuck, Gabe." You sigh dreamily, as you climb higher and higher. 

You desperately try to retain some sense, to think of the messed up nature of the dynamic and Gabriel's display, yet right now you can't bring yourself to care too much.

"Crawl forward baby." Gabe murmurs sweetly, as he releases you from his hold. 

It's now the hesitation comes crashing back. 

Gabe wants to fuck you, right here, right now. The fingering was one thing, but he's about to fuck you into the couch with your new friend sitting right there. 

"Gabe?" Your voice is questioning as you turn to him. "Niran?" You turn to the blonde, fully expecting him to call it a day and end this whole ridiculous power play. 

Instead, he reaches up, brushes the hair off of your face, and whispers. "Do as you're told, sweet thing." 

You swallow thickly and know there's no turning back now. Niran is more than happy to participate, even if it means all he can do is sit back and watch.

He compels you further to acquiesce to Gabriel's demand. You know you have to do it. 

"Okay." You whisper, your eyes fixed on Niran's as you crawl away from Gabe on all fours and present yourself to him. 

"Gabe, are you really going to do this?" You gasp as his greedy hands grip at your thighs and ass, pulling the flesh just how he likes it. 

"He's welcome to leave if he wants to." He peels down your shorts and panties, before pulling away to free himself from his confines.  "Or he'll be a good boy, and he'll stay. Understood?" He growls once more, displaying his authority and complete control. 

He wants to humiliate Niran, to use you in a show of dominance and possession. You hate how the thought of being claimed like this makes you shiver. 

"Yes, Commander."  You reply obediently. 

"Yes, Commander." Niran smirks, yet a look in his eyes tells you he's affected by Gabriel's dominance too, and his compliance isn't necessarily some cocky act. 

Gabe lines his thick, hard cock up with your entrance, plunging in quickly and relentlessly as he claims you. 

His hands settle on your shoulders, and he wastes no time in bouncing you against his cock and driving the two of you to the heavens. 

Niran's expression falls, as he becomes transfixed and undeniably aroused by the scene in front of him. His eyes flicker between the two of you attentively, his lips part with a slight gasp.

"Is this what you wanted to do, pretty boy?" Gabe asks, his voice wracked with pleasure.

"Something like that." Niran replies honestly, his voice soft.  

"Tough shit." Gabe snarls, driving his hips into you in a particularly brutal fashion that almost makes you scream. Your body was already sore, but it's only going to be worse when he's through with you.

"Fuck!" 

Gabe thrusts wildly, enjoying your mewls and moans. "Tell him how it feels, baby." His voice is sweet once more when addressing you. 

You meet Niran's eyes, almost hypnotized by the need to comply and follow Gabriel's word. The thought of perpetuating Gabe's control of you in this way also makes you shiver. 

"He's stretching me so much, he always does." You sigh, not wavering in your eye contact. 

"You're just so fucking tight." Your lover grunts. 

"And you're so thick. Always filling me up." The voice that comes from you barely sounds like you anymore, a sexy and confident tone that you're not used to—yet the situation is showing new sides of you all. 

"You take him perfectly." Niran whispers, the genuine smile returning to his face. 

"Y-yeah?" You stutter, his approval of yours and Gabriel's union making your heart soar.

"He could never fuck you like this, could he?" Gabe grunts, his voice strangled and yet trying to rein in the menacing tone. 

You shake your head wildly, eyes still on Niran. You should feel a sense of worry about Niran's feelings, but a primal part of you that's hazy and cock drunk doesn't care. You can sense his enjoyment of the situation anyway. "No one could, only you." 

Gabe's thrusts grow erratic for a moment as he drapes himself over your body, rutting into you further and bringing himself closer to Niran. "Mine." While the words are about you, they're not intended for you in the slightest. 

"Yours, Gabe, fuck." You cry out, the possession making you clench further. 

"That's it, say my name." He pants, his hips thrusting his thickness deeper inside you. 

You moan wildly, Gabriel's name the only thing on your lips. "Gabe—Gabriel!" You can sense his wicked, self-satisfied smirk. 

"Scream it for me." 

"Gabriel!" You scream, your eyes screwed tight. "You're gonna break me." 

"Ruin you for any other man." He purrs, his words laced with clear intent. 

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck!" You can't help but babble and mindlessly agree, though what he's saying is entirely true. 

"I bet he wishes he was me right now. With that pussy wrapped so tight around my dick, taking me so well."

Gabriel's words seem to push both of you further, as you moan in tandem. "He should know you need something only a man like me can give you." 

"I was made for your cock." You reply on instinct, the words coming so naturally in your submissive haze.

"Mhmm. How does she look?" Gabe asks, watching Niran watch you with blown-out pupils. 

"Perfectly blissful, eyes closed, lips parted." He comments breathlessly, transfixed by your pleasure. 

"Look at him while I fuck you." Gabe commands. "Let him see the look in your eyes as I ruin you, hermosa." 

Your eyes spring open in an instant, a new wave of intensity washing over you, seeing Niran once more. "Fuckfuckfuck." 

"His dicks so hard, he wants you so bad." Gabe chuckles as he directs your attention to the blonde's erection. 

"Yeah?" 

"Well, she does have a hand and mouth free." Niran chances his luck with a daring smirk. 

"Not anymore." Gabe changes position, pinning your arms behind your back with one hand, and using the other to stuff your mouth full with his fingers. He forces your head down and fucks you into Niran, your cheek cushioned on his thighs, so close to his hardness. You can't help but moan around Gabe's fingers.

"So selfish." Niran chuckles, a sense of confidence and teasing returned to him. 

You're still in disbelief that he seems to have been goading Gabriel all along. 

"Selfish?" Gabe spits. "Says the man making moves on what's mine." 

Niran meets Gabriel's eyes, the look he gives completely sultry. "In my defense, I wasn't only going to make a move on her." 

Gabriel stills suddenly, and you can't help but whine. 

"That so?"

Niran nods and Gabriel pulls out, leaving you fluttering around nothing as he stands. 

"On your knees." He orders, and assuming he's now going to claim your mouth too, you comply. He follows up with another command. "Both of you." 

"Gabe, are you—" You glance nervously between the two, once more concerned for Niran.

Yet, once more too, Niran complies—falling to his knees with a satisfied grin. 

"Show him how I like it, cariño." Gabe's hand settles into your hair as he guides you closer to his cock. 

You bring a hand up to stroke him, as you get to work worshiping him with your mouth. 

His head falls back in pleasure, as your practice tongue lavishes his head with attention. 

"You want your turn?" He grunts to Niran, giving him his attention as you pull away. 

"Please." Niran's voice is almost a whine, a tone you haven't heard from the man yet at all. Yet it matches the reverent look he has in his eyes.

"At least you have some manners now. Help him, baby."

You move Niran's hand to the base of Gabe's cock, as the two of you inch closer to the head. 

 "That's it." 

Yours and Niran's lips brush against each other as you both suck at the tip of Gabriel's dick, your eyes locked intensely. The strange intimacy sends a shock wave through you, along with the pleasure of feeling his lips against yours. 

Niran's tongue flicks out across Gabriel's tip as he seems to savor the salty flavor.

You shouldn't be surprised when Niran stops sucking and slips his tongue into your mouth, but it takes you a moment to catch up. Your eyes fall shut, and you get lost in the moment as he makes love to your mouth like he was to Gabriel's dick just moments prior. 

"That's enough." Fingers tug at the roots of your hair, and you assume the same is true for Niran. "You wanna kiss her, do it on my dick." He growls, and the two of you get back to work.

You're torn between the two men's gazes— Niran's lidded and lusty, while Gabriel's is hard and commanding. You can barely believe it's happening, but have little time to think as you and Niran conspire to bring Gabriel to his finish.

His hand guides you in tandem up and down his length, slickness and spit coating the skin. 

"So much better when your mouth's full, and you can't flirt with my fucking girlfriend." Gabe laughs, a hint of cruel indulgence in his voice. "Fuck, I'm close." 

Niran's eyes seem to light up at the idea of getting Gabriel's cum for himself, yet he's pulled off Gabriel's cock a second later. 

"If you think you're getting my load..." He chuckles once more. "Jerk me onto her tongue, pretty boy." 

"Gabe." You whine, your words warped around the way you slip your tongue out of your mouth obediently. 

"It's all for you, cariño." Gabe groans as Niran's slender fingers work at a furious pace on his cock. "Catch it with your tongue, maybe he can get the sloppy seconds." 

Niran's pace quickens at the filthiness of the comment, pushing Gabriel even closer. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna—" He groans, biting his lip in the way you know means he's right there. 

"Please!" You beg, your words and sweet doe eyes pleading for his release. 

Niran accompanies you in the begging, and Gabriel begins to spill all over your tongue with a harshly shouted groan 

"Fuck..." He moans, coming down from his high as Niran's fingers slow down before stopping completely. 

Gabriel strokes your hair lovingly before he cracks with a smile of mercy. "Kiss him, baby, give him something at least." 

You can't help but comply, surprisingly eager to share the moment with Niran once more. You cup the blonde's face before sharing a sweet, filthy kiss with him, one that ends in both of you swallowing parts of Gabe's load. 

Niran pulls away first, pressing a soft kiss to your lips once more before parting with a satisfied smile. Gabriel's hand strokes through his hair, too. 

"You okay?" Gabe asks, his eyes softened and gazing at you adoringly.

You giggle, a strange euphoria coursing through you. "I think so?" You're more than okay, yet undeniably a little confused and uncertain about the boundaries you all just crossed.

Gabe's attention turns to the blonde, the softness he was displaying remaining. "Niran?" 

"I'm fine. Better than fine" He replies with a smile before it drops to a playful pout. "Though I thought you'd at least let me finish." 

Gabriel laughs heartily, before a smirk sets on his features. "Then I wouldn't be putting you in your place." 

"Not like I got to finish, either." You giggle.

Gabe smirks. "I'm not done with you." 

A strange yet comfortable silence descends on the room, as Gabriel tucks himself away, and you try to catch your breath. 

"I should take my leave." Niran announces, standing up from his kneeling position. 

You tug at his wrist, concern washing over you. 

This undoubtedly changes everything, especially when the circumstances surrounding this were so murky. "Niran?" 

"Don't worry." He smiles earnestly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, before his fingers reach out to brush across Gabriel's hand and the two men share an uncharacteristically tender look. "Enjoy the rest of your night." He's entirely sincere, and holding no bitterness or regret as he pulls away 

"Night Niran." You whisper, still somewhat in disbelief. 

"Night Y/N, Gabriel." He calls out, as he makes his way to the door and disappears into the night. 

You and Gabriel wordlessly move to the couch, him pulling up your shorts and settling you in his lap—safe and secure in his arms. 

"Uh, that was... unexpected." You giggle, nuzzling into his chest. 

"Too much?" He questions, trying to sit up to get a look at your expression.

"No, not at all." You answer honestly. "A heads-up would've been nice, though."

"I wasn't planning on it. Not tonight anyway." 

You cuddle back into his chest, both amused and confused. "I didn't know you were that jealous." 

"I'm not." He mutters, a clear lie. "He wanted in, that's all I'm willing to give." 

You gasp in faux offense, "So you get your dick sucked, and I just get a kiss!?" 

"Who's jealous now?" Gabe smirks like a bastard as he strokes your hair. "You got three kisses, actually. But, I can call him back, have him lick your pussy... but only while I'm fucking you." 

"Maybe another time." The thought makes you tremble, with that idea being even more dominating than what you just did. "Gabe?" 

"What?" 

A shit-eating grin of your own spreads across your face. "I didn't know you were into prettyboys." 

[claireelle18]

Everything Turns Out Right - Ross Colton

He’s out of surgery and she meets him in his room afterwards, telling him “you know, they almost didn’t let me in here. They said I had to wait until you were up and asking for me.” Her pointed look towards him.

“They only let me in because you had me listed on your paperwork as your wife. Though I had to convince them, due to us not having the same last name.” 

He put his hands up in a half-hearted attempt, “I’m trying to manifest the things I want by speaking them into the universe.” 

“And you want a wife?” A faked pointed look shot to him. 

“Only if it’s you.” A cocky grin spreading to show his pearly whites. 

“I think your meds are too strong. You, mister, are lucky. I was able to convince them we hadn’t agreed to us taking each other’s names yet and that we were waiting for my passport to be renewed before anything else.” 

He chuckles, “So you’re going along with this wifey?” Her heart racing hearing him jokingly call her that name she desperately wants him to actually mean. 

“Only because I wanted to be here,” she stuck out her tongue, settling next to his bedside. 

Hours must have passed before the next person visited. “Mr. Colton…” stated a middle aged nurse.

“Shhh…please. She is trying to sleep,” he motioned to her curled up in the corner of the hospital room couch. “Kept her up all night worried with the injury as she had to fly in before learning anything further.” 

“So sorry, Mr. Colton. I was trying to inform you that visiting hours are soon to be over.” 

“She’s my wife. She can stay.” 

“My bad sir.” The nurse ducked out of the doorway. She stirred soon after. Blinking around, searching to understand her surroundings. 

“Tony is on his way here with real food for you. You need to eat. I’m pretty sure you last ate that snack size bag of Cheez-Its before the airplane ride.” He said. She squinty-eyed him. “You know I’m right.” 

“You need to eat too, R,” she huffed. 

“Already ate. Hospital food. Not half bad,” he shrugged, motioning to the bed tray with the past dinner plate. 

“I can go down to the cafe and get something before they close for the night,” she started to protest. He shook his head. 

“Too late sweets. He’s on his way. Meantime I’ve been channel surfing and I found a Jurassic Park movie marathon.” 

Thanks to Tony coming in with true food for her before retreating back to the team’s hotel, she was left with him again. “Come here sweetheart,” he motioned to the slightly larger than a twin bed. 

“R…” she started to protest. 

“Nuh uh honey. Join me, I need you here to make sure no dinosaurs come to eat me.” She rolled her eyes. 

“You’re a dork.” 

“Yeah, yeah, but I’m your dork. Now get over here.” She gingerly climbed into the bed as best as she could to avoid bumping into his shoulder. 

Before the team jetted off to the next city for the next game in the road series, a few stopped by to check in. She had slipped out to grab a cup of coffee while the men all talked briefly. “Soooo Tony spilled the beans that you told the docs she’s your wife…” Patty joked. 

“Well I knew she would just be too anxious to sit in the hotel room with one of you guys. No offense,” he replied back.

“You must really love her to go that far to lie about her to a hospital,” Brayden chimed in. 

“And to have us use your card to buy her that emergency flight,” Steven commented. “Ross you have to just tell her the way you feel. Sandra tells me that the way she looks at you is the same way that all of our ladies look at us, but that there is that look of longing written deep in her expression. Hate to break it to you now, but do something about it. Seriously.” No one knew that she had returned from her coffee adventure to over hear the conversation. 

Steven was right. All the guys were. Sandra was, and she knew exactly her feelings towards the New Jersey native as it was a family common topic of discussion in the family box. “I want to give her the entire universe. I wasn’t really lying about the whole wife part, more just trying to actually speak what I want into existence with her. I know Tony knows this since he was there to help me pick it out, but I have the ring for her.” A ring?! So he had that planned out already. 

She burst into the already cramped hospital room, carefully flinging herself into the body of the man she loved so much. A couple of the guys chuckled at the scene in front of them. “I love you so much, R.” 

“So I am guessing you heard the conversation,” his laugh reverberating through her. 

“Every word.”

“Well fuck this wasn’t really the way I had thought it would happen,” he glanced around the room at the guys. “I don’t even have it with me. Didn’t expect to have you here with me, even if it is due to the unfortunate circumstance.” 

“I don’t care if you physically have it. You have known that items aren’t important to me.” Her eyes getting all teary.

“Sweetheart, it’s important as it’s my promise to you. You deserve to have a ring. It’s been in my nightstand drawer for months.” That was true. He bought the ring almost a year ago. She had left for a weekend to visit her family, which meant he was able to go pick out the right ring for her. He had been speaking with a local jeweler for a handful of weeks, and the designed ring finally came in. 

The team left, and the couple (well Ross) was discharged from the hospital. The flight back to Tampa was uneventful, except for the company of one of the trainers to make sure there were no unforeseen complications to the injured offensive. When the two arrived home, he pulled the velvet box from that back part of his nightstand. Her tears springing to blur her vision. “Again, not how I had imagined or planned to do this for you,” he started. 

She shook her head, a silent laugh shaking her body. “My love, you have been the best part of my life,” he continued on. “The nonstop love you have for everyone around you. How much you pour yourself into your life. I could not even imagine life without you in it. When you came into my life, the sunshine brightened the world even further. I saw it from a different outlook that only you could show me.” He watched her closely as he momentarily struggled with the small box. 

Pulling it open, revealing the large custom ring to her. “Will you do me the honor of continuing that life, and be my wife?” He asked her. 

“Absolutely yes! I would say yes in every life time to you Ross.” She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it, and was so glad he felt the same. Through it all, life would be amazing with each other by their sides.