#and then runs off happily. and then everyone separately processes that about a minute too slowly

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

ok, we've talked about trent unthinkingly and excitedly grabbing ted and planting one on him during the "our dork" scene when he's doing his adorkable enthusiastic ramble, as we should. however, have we considered ted impulsively kissing trent? i understand it does definitely fit better the other way around however consider trent looked so cute and happy and excited and he was already really close,

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

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Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

-

-

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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[sylvie-writes]

Chain of Events

word count: 2500

pairing: andy barber x female reader

warnings: cheating, age gap, some profanity.

request: can i request a andy barber x fem!reader where the reader is his asisstant and his secret mistress (in mid 20s) which she always stick by his side and help him through jacob's trail. after the trail he divorced w laurie and they got marry and have a baby girl please!! thank you!!

a/n: sorry for the wait! i hope you enjoy lovely! ngl this really fueled my love for andy. 

please excuse any mistakes!

It wasn’t something you were proud of. Something that had started off as a night with a few innocent drinks paved the way for a never ending cycle. At times you felt dirty and awful, yet that didn’t stop you from going to see him every other night. Even when you had the slightest feeling that Laurie had a hunch, it didn’t stop you. Especially when things got dark for Andy, you were the one to hold him close and not his wife. It felt so right although extremely wrong all at the same time. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Currently, you were sitting in your apartment bed, spending your Friday night a bit differently than most. Rain gushed from the sky and rhythmically hit your bedroom window which you were spaced out on, many thoughts running through your mind and a glass of wine occasionally hitting your lips. Using your free hand you softly ran your fingers through the mop of hair that belonged to Andy who was passed out in your lap. His breathing was even and it did your heart good to see him so peaceful for once. Just two hours ago, he called you, sounding so broken and vulnerable which was out of the ordinary for Andy. The minute you answered the door, he flung himself at you and held you tight, whispering repeatedly “don’t leave me, please.” 

It absolutely tore you to pieces to hear him say that and you were quick to reassure him that it wasn’t even possible. You then lead him to the bedroom to ask what had happened. 

“Is everything alright? Talk to me, Andy.” You placed a set of his pajamas into his hands but not without a pleading look in your eyes when meeting his own sullen ones.

“Laurie’s adamant it’s him, but (y/n)-” Placing a finger on his lips, you hushed him. 

“I know, I know. You just have to ignore it okay? Laurie is just,” Pausing, you chose your next words wisely, “having a hard time with it all. Everyone copes differently.” 

He sadly nodded before standing to kiss your forehead and make his way to the bathroom to get changed and cleaned up a bit. 

The two of you continued to chat about Jacob’s trial once Andy returned from the bathroom, and he confided in you in many ways more than one. You’d never seen Andy so open, even with yourself, and clearly it helped him quite a bit as he was now relaxed. 

Time had flown and amongst your thoughts, one stood out to you in particular. When would Laurie start to question where he was? Andy always had some bullshit excuse ready to give her and would then tell you that it would be alright. Normally, before you had time to truly convince yourself, Andy’s lips would be on yours or his hands would caress you gently and you’d melt into him as did your cares. Except for now. 

The two had just gotten into a huge fight and you were sure Andy hadn’t even thought twice about telling her where he was going. Even if he did, Laurie would surely be on the lookout for his return. 

Carefully reaching over to your nightstand, you grabbed your phone to check the time and noticed that it was getting late. 

“Andy? My love, when do you have to go home?” You leaned down to whisper to the sleeping man who groaned in return. 

You repeated his name once more, this time slightly shaking his shoulder to which he rolled onto his back, a goofy grin on his lips as he looked up at you. “Well hello, honey.” 

From Andy’s point of view, you peered down at him like a disappointed mother but with a faint smile upon her lips at her child’s goofiness. 

“Nice of you to join me, sleeping beauty. I was wondering what time you had to get home. It’s starting to rain more heavily and Laurie-”

Andy sat up and turned himself so he’d be sitting shoulder to shoulder with you. Silently, he took your empty wine glass from your hand, leaning to place it on your nightstand. As he did so, he didn’t let go of your wrist, which he brought to his lips when he returned to face you. 

Murmuring against your wrist, he started to place soft and delicate kisses to the smooth skin there. “Don’t worry about it. I told her I’d be back tomorrow morning.” 

“But Andy, she knows you don’t have anywhere to stay.” You didn’t want to exactly say “Hey! Andy, you have no friends and your wife knows that!” but it was implied in a kinder way. Andy picked up on this, clearly deflecting when he just nodded in response and started to place more kisses up your forearm. 

Letting out a frustrated “hmph,” you let Andy carry on before he victoriously smiled at you.

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The vicious cycle went on throughout the course of Jacob’s trial as things between Andy and his wife got worse. Even though they both lived under the same roof, slept in the same bed, and put on a facade for Jacob, they were practically separated. One night Andy drunkenly showed up on your doorstep, confessing how he had come home to find Laurie with another man. In a fit of rage he let the cat out of the bag that he had been seeing you. Funny how things work. 

You knew they were both wrong, so instead of shaming either one of them, you just let Andy cling to you for comfort. When Andy was drunk, he was like a big child and if the circumstances were different, you’d been laughing, but rather you soothingly rubbed his back and listened as that’s all he needed. Someone who would just listen.

At three in the morning, he most definitely needed you as well when you found his head in the bowl of the toilet and not sleepily nestled in your neck. (Which was ironic as the two of you would be switching places very soon.)

Christmas came quick and along with it, many miracles, one being that Jacob was not convicted.

Just as Andy was in a rush to tell you the news, Laurie was even faster to serve the divorce papers to him. In a relationship, you and your partner are supposed to be able to push through tough times without breaking. With that being said, Andy and Laurie mutually agreed that they had failed and it was time they both quit lying to themselves. It was time for real happiness. 

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“(y/n) meet me at our favorite restaurant in thirty minutes.”

You were working on some case files for Neil, despite your hatred for him, and tried to tell Andy that you were busy at the moment. He didn’t listen but continued to insist that you meet him there. His tone wasn’t demanding, but it was...excited? Surely, Andy had been excited over things in his life, but you’d never actually heard the usually emotionless man speak with such ardor. 

Setting down the case files, you rushed to put on some real pants and a blouse, but nothing too fancy or flashy as you had no idea what was about to happen. 

When you arrived at the restaurant, Andy happily flagged you over. He wore the biggest smile ever and you were borderline concerned. What could have him this happy? Was he getting back with Laurie? As much as you wanted them to be a functioning family, you weren’t sure if you could deal with such heartbreak because Andy really did feel like the one. 

Ever the gentleman, Andy pulled out your chair and handed you a small bouquet as you sat in the wooden seat. Before he walked away, the man planted a smack of a kiss on your lips and hurried back to his seat since he saw the waiter out of the corner of his eye. As the waiter approached, you were just sitting there, the most shocked expression on your face as it settled within you what Andy had just done. Long ago when this whole fiasco began, you and Andy always kept it professional when out in public because so many people knew him and word could get out easily that he was cheating. 

The minute the waiter left, you were quick to chastise Andy who just laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world which left you a bit angered. 

Since the restaurant was quiet, you extended yourself across the table so Andy could hear your harsh muttering. 

“Do you realize what you just did, Barber?!” Andy shook his head in a content manner and at this point steam was about to emerge from your ears. Before all hell could break loose and you go ballistic, Andy cut in to explain. 

“Jacob, he’s a free man!” Andy looked at you with an awaiting smile and your face immediately softened, but for only a second as that didn’t explain why he was parading your relationship out like this. Didn’t he know what he was risking, not only for himself, but you.

Your counterpart noticed the sudden change of expression on your face and continued, “But among other things, I meant to tell you that Laurie and I got divorced recently.” 

“Oh hon, I am so sorry.” Reaching across the table, you comfortingly ran your thumb over the back of his hand, but he just shook his head in detest.

“No no, it’s not a bad thing because it just opened the gateway for this,” Andy pulled his hand away and went to dig in his coat pocket. You thought to yourself, no he couldn’t be-

“(y/n), I’m gonna make this short, but sweet. You mean the world to me and I could spend all night listing off why I love you, but that will never do justice, so instead, I ask that you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?” 

His cliche, yet utterly adorable speech could make a person’s heart melt and instantly say yes, but you’ve always been a thinker, and maybe Andy had accounted for that a bit in his proposal. 

“Andrew! You just got divorced!” In a semi-whisper slash hiss, you bent over so only he could hear, hiding your words from the prying onlookers as if you had top secret info spilling from your lips. 

“I know, but, (y/n), you are the one.” He looked a bit awkward being on his knee for so long and the ring box still patiently in hand as you processed his question. Nonetheless, Andy continued to hopefully smile at you, ignoring all of the whispers, until you excitedly replied “yes” just a mere second later, though it felt like ages for him. 

This proposal was definitely gonna be a story for generations. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

You and Andy settled for a simple courthouse wedding with just your parents in attendance as witnesses. The two of you were never really used to flaunting your relationship, and even though you could now, it just wasn’t ideal. Besides, you had bigger things to worry about.

For example, when just a few weeks after your short-lived honeymoon, you noticed some changes and came to the conclusion that you were pregnant. 

One night, you casually brought up the idea of more kids to Andy to test the waters. 

“Hey love, you awake?”

Andy lifted his eyes from his book, no longer looking as if he was asleep. He nodded his head and set the book aside giving you his full attention. 

“What’s up, gorgeous?”

“I was thinking… what if we were to have a kid. Would you be opposed to that?”

The reaction on Andy’s face was most definitely not the one in mind and he looked as if you had asked him the most appalling question on earth. 

“(y/n), I love kids,” He chuckled a bit, “I thought I made that clear, you know, by being a dad and all.” 

His lame attempt at making a “joke” eased your nerves and you just came straightforward with the gold. 

“Andy, I think I am pregnant.” 

And faster than a predator can pounce, Andy was on you in seconds, his arms hugging you close as he whispered words of excitement. 

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Nine months later and that statement was very true as you held a bundle of joy in your arms. Your hours numb in pain couldn't even be compared to the gift that was before you. Andy could hardly keep his hands off your stomach for the past few months and he never failed to speak to your daughter as if she was actually there. Now that her presence was finally in the world, Andy was yet to look away from her small figure and his smile hadn’t withered the slightest. 

The nurse had stepped out a few minutes ago, giving both you and Andy some time and privacy with your newborn. Even though drowsiness overcame your body, you visibly forced yourself awake just to absorb all the time you could with her. Little ones grow up in a flash and you weren't going to miss a second if it was up to you.

Andy joined you in the hospital bed when you silently invited him in with a soft pat to the crinkly sheets. Once he snuggled up against your side, you carefully passed the little baby who was about to have her first contact with her father. 

As Andy played with her mini hands, you sleepily rested your head on his broad shoulder, watching the two and already figuring out that they’d be lifelong friends. 

“They always say with age comes wiseness, but darlin’, your momma gives that phrase a run for its money.”

You giggled at your husband’s words and propped up the little darling the smallest bit so she could “see” you and her dad. 

“Don’t listen to Daddy, munchkin. The grey in his beard says otherwise.” 

“Hey! I’m not that old, I was still able to knock-” Backhanding Andy’s leg caused him to dramatically cut his sentence short. There were plenty of years for him to taint your daughter’s innocence.

 As you observed the two, you noticed Andy gazed at her as if she hung the moon and stars for him, a familiar look he often gave you. Possibly from the lack of energy or just being enamored with the interaction, a sweet tear slipped from your own eye. Upon closer inspection, one could see that a subtle tear fell from the man beside you.

If Andrew Stephen Barber had known all those years ago he’d be here with a second chance at life, he would’ve never even waited another second to be with you. It’s funny how life can send you down the most twisted paths, yet have you come out with the most precious of gifts. 

 taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it​

a/n: what did you guys think? it feels like ages since i’ve written anything, and I am sure you can tell haha

if you are new here, check out my masterlist at the top of my blog for more Andy Barber (and Chris Evans characters) writing. I’d link it but tumblr always tag blocks me :( 

[jimlingss]

Maybe Baby Retreat

➜ Words: 12.7k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut

➜ Summary: In an attempt to conceive, Taehyung discovers a five day retreat dedicated to help with the impregnation process but you're fairly certain that the entire thing is a scam.

[Day One]   Taehyung should be fucking you.   It’s a bit crass to be grumbling that he’s not sticking his sperm in you, but your fertile window begins today and if he really wants a kid as much as he says he does, you wouldn’t be on a godforsaken bus.    The yellow school bus jumps and jolts as it goes down the jagged, unpaved road. Every bump is felt in the back by ten folds as you’re rocked from side to side on the seat and not on your husband’s dick. Said man is too busy singing along with the guide that’s living it up with a mic in hand and his voice on the intercom. He’s trying to bring up the morale, but you’re not having it.   Instead, you turn to the window and stare out at the empty countryside that stretches across the horizon. There’s not a car in sight and if you swear to god if you’re being shipped to a serial killer’s farmhouse, you’re dragging Taehyung down to hell with you.   “You’re frowning, sweetheart,” he says while leaning over to you, flashing a blazing grin much to your chagrin. “You know stress isn’t good for the baby.”   “It’s not like it matters. There is no baby.”   “Not yet.” Taehyung throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you scoff. You’re aware being a Debbie Downer isn’t going to help anyone but it’s hard to loosen up when you’re so on guard and skeptical about this whole thing. When you’re surrounded by noisy strangers who are all too overfamiliar.   You suppose it was your fault to begin with.   All those nights of staying up to read about tricks and tips of conceiving led Taehyung to discover the Baby Retreat. A five day sanctuary that ensures people will be able to conceive.    The moment you saw it, you were certain that the whole thing was a scam, but your sweet summer child husband was wholly convinced and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t change his mind.   “Who knows, it might actually work, right?! And if it doesn’t, then it looks fun anyway! When was the last time we had a vacation together?”   It’s also your fault for being so soft. You couldn’t shut Taehyung down when he was so enthusiastic, so here you are. You took off a week off work and on your fertile day, you’re shipped onto a school bus out into the middle of nowhere.   “Oh! Looks like we’re here, folks!” The vehicle slows as it turns into the gravel parking lot and the guide smiles as he peers out the windshield. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope you leave with a few buns in the oven! And if not, then don’t worry, you can still eat for two here!”   There’s a few snickers and once the bus parks, everyone gets up, slowly shuffling out and stretching their legs.   The air is sweltering hot and the sun beams down onto the back of your neck, making it uncomfortable to breathe. You’re panting with sweat built on your hairline as you drag your luggage through the grass. But no one seems bothered by it. Maybe because they’re excited that they’re here, they have the energy to fill the field with their chatter.    Even Taehyung is grinning and he’s a certified whiner when it comes to hot weather. The guy blasts the air conditioner during summer until it feels like it’s winter. Though you have an inkling it’s just a tactic so you can cuddle up to him for warmth before bed.   “Come on, slowpoke!” Taehyung breaks through your train of thought and then abandons you by running ahead like a hyperactive five year old.    “I’d be faster if you helped me!” Taehyung doesn’t hear you. You wonder if you married a child — but you suppose that’s why you called him the light of your life during your vows. Like Yoongi once said at the dinner reception, Taehyung’s excessive energy is indeed a double-edged sword.   You follow the stream of people to the center building, a modern wooden structure in the middle of the fifteen yurts that form a circle. It surprisingly looks alike to the advertisements, each with a porch and steps up to the door. The grass is verdant and pliant beneath your feet, the numerous trimmed trees around providing some nice shade and the flower beds give bright splashes of colour to the place. If this retreat wasn’t oddly centered around impregnation, you would’ve been convinced that it was a fancy camping resort.   “Welcome everyone! Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope the trip here wasn’t too bad!”   You finally join Taehyung’s side and look towards the stage in front of the main building. There’s a man with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks in a loose tunic and taupe pants. He stands next to a woman in a baggy poncho holding a ukulele for reasons beyond you.   “I see some familiar faces here! To all those already familiar with the Baby Retreat, welcome home. I’ll try to keep this short and simple, so you’re not too bored.” He claps his hands together with a bright smile. You look around at the crowd to see elated expressions. “My name is Park Jimin and this is my girlfriend, Song Hyunjin. A little about us, we’ve been together for over ten years and yes, we have an open relationship with each other, but that does not mean we aren’t in love with each other.”   He draws her in, nuzzling into her without shame and she giggles. “To our new faces, trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.”   Jimin pulls away with an enormous grin. “We haven’t had any children ourselves, but don’t worry. We’re reproductive endocrinologists with proper training and medical degrees. But we started this retreat four years ago to take a more unconventional approach to reproduction. And for the next five days, we have the honour of hopefully helping you ladies conceive and you males impregnate your partner!”   There’s some exchanged smiles and Taehyung looks at you with hopeful eyes. It feels better to hear these people aren’t uneducated and talking out of their ass, but you’re still unsure how to feel.   Hyunjin laughs. “Not only that, our goal is to help you relax and truly deepen your relationship with your partner. While we can’t promise a hundred percent success rate, hopefully you’ll leave this place feeling more refreshed than you did before. With that being said, please feel free to come up and ask us any questions. We’re very open people who are more than happy to help you in your process of expanding your wonderful families. There is nothing more beautiful than pregnancy and birth.”   She jumps off the stage and grabs a wooden crate. With a smile, she begins passing out packs.   Jimin continues, “For the next five days, we’ll be helping everyone improve their diets and exercise habits while getting plenty of vitamin D. What my lovely Hyunjin is handing out now are your survival kits!”    “For men, fenugreek supplements are given to improve your sperm counts and for the ladies, there are prenatal vitamins and folic acid. There’s also a guide to the activities provided around here and a map, some sunscreen and other knick-knacks to remember your time here. Don’t worry, we won’t bombard you with any pregnancy pamphlets or information. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about that.”   It’s a bit refreshing to hear. You’ve been neck deep in research about conception that it’s been hard lately — another reason that you agreed to Taehyung’s whims.   “Are you the Kim family?” Hyunjin asks and when you confirm it, she hands both you and Taehyung cute pouches. You reluctantly take it, but when you thank her, she happily smiles. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat.”   The introduction drags on for a bit more before Hyunjin admits that it’s hot and that everyone’s probably tired, so the meeting ends and you open your pouch and find information on your yurt.   “Not too bad, right?”    Taehyung can tell by the look on your face as you gaze up at your white-tented yurt.   “We’ll see,” you mumble and he takes the luggage, following behind you. “I thought we were going to spend five days in an orange tent, so I guess this is better by default.”   “An orange tent?” He laughs. “But I showed you the commercial! Did you not pay attention?”   “People lie on advertisements all the time, Tae.”   But to your surprise, the interior of the yurt is even better than expected. It looks like a cozy cabin, wooden panel walls that separate the full kitchen from the full bathroom and provides some privacy to where the queen sized bed is. Light comes in from the top, filling the space with luminescence. There’s a mini-fridge filled with goods, plush towels set on the table with a personalized welcome card, down duvets that are soft to the touch.    And it’s wrecked the moment Taehyung jumps on the bed with his arms and legs wide open like a starfish. He rolls over and props his head up with his hand — in the position where he often asks you in a breathy voice to paint him like one of your french girls. And he uses the same voice on you now while wiggling his brows, “Wanna ruin the sheets with me?”   You burst out laughing, but it sounds all too tempting. He could probably dump a load in you within five minutes, though you’re not sure if anyone could hear you from the outside. “Didn’t they say there’s planned activities in an hour? What if we don’t show up.”   “It’s fine. People come here for one reason anyway.” There’s a pause. “To fuck.”   You roll your eyes, setting your suitcase next to the bed and you look at the nightstand to notice mineral oil lubricants. You’re mildly impressed at the details. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”   “They won’t miss us.” Taehyung’s own attention is taken to a wooden basket on a shelf of the irregular shaped bookshelf and he comes over, only to grin when he sees what’s inside. “Honey. I think we should have some fun tonight.”   You turn around, wondering what he’s up to now. But any snarky remarks die on your tongue when you find a leather whip in his left hand and a ten inch, neon pink dildo in his other hand.   “Is that...even sanitary?!”    You can’t imagine how many people have used it.   “We can find out.” Taehyung fiddles around with it, pushes a button and the dildo begins to rotate, making the both of you laugh. “Honey, we gotta give them five stars on Yelp! They have a communal sex toy bin for us to use! We can’t get this anywhere else.”   “Oh god. I’d rather not share my sex toys with anyone.” The two of you are interrupted by muffled folk music that begins to leak inside and it persuades you to go out. “C’mon, we should go check out what they have. If we have to spend five days here, we might as well meet some other people too and be social or whatever.”   Taehyung grins, tossing the dildo back into the basket and joining your side. “You’re liking this place, aren’t you?”   “No. I just think the yurt’s half-decent.”   Taehyung can see right through you, but it’s a bit too early for the ‘told you so’ spiel so he holds back and the both of you step outside of the yurt. There’s a few people hanging around and the weather is more bearable as the sun slowly begins moving and setting over the horizon. You meet friendly newlyweds who are surprisingly having their honeymoon here.   “We just can’t wait to have kids,” Rose, the young twenty three year old, says as she embraces her husband, Hoseok. They’re no strangers to publish displays of affection, openly kissing up on each other. It would make you a bit uncomfortable if not for how touchy Taehyung is as well.   When you first got together all those years ago, your friends teased you about it but it’s been years since. No one’s a stranger to how you plop yourself down on Taehyung’s lap or how he might kiss you and then steal your food right off of your own plate.   “When we saw that the retreat offered a honeymoon package, we just couldn’t resist,” Hoseok says, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you and Taehyung or his wife with how much he gazes at her. It’s a sweet sight though. You remember that honeymoon period.   “Remember when we were that young?” you ask as you leave to the other side, giving the couple some much needed privacy. It was obvious they weren’t up for more conversation with the way they’re shifting and staring at one another.   “When you were still hot? Yeah. I do—” Taehyung bursts out laughing when you jab him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re still hot, okay? The hottest chick here and you’d make the hottest MILF too.”   “Damn straight.”   The pair of you also run into another couple that’s older and appears a lot more comfortable with the place. “Oh, this is actually our second time here! The first time gave us the four year old troublemaker running amok back at home.”   You blink in surprise, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “This place...worked for you?”   “It sure did.” The woman, Dahyun, smiles. “Some people didn’t have as much luck as we did, but we had so much fun last time that we knew we just had to come back. We were actually staying in your yurt last time.”   She points and you swivel your head over, intrigued. “Huh.” Taehyung raises a brow, noticing how engaged you are and the corner of his mouth tugs.   Her husband, Seokjin, chuckles heartily. “We thought it was time to give our son a younger brother, so here we are! Tonight’s the welcome party and just a word of advice, I really recommend getting some of that grilled salmon. It’s absolutely delicious.”   “Just let them eat whatever they want, Jin,” his wife sighs in exasperation.   “I’m just saying! I would’ve liked to know last time — I would’ve gotten two plates before they ran out.”   “This is why the doctor told you to eat less of everything. You ate more than I did when I was pregnant with Youngjae.”   “I can’t help that I’m eating for three! For your information, I’m carrying the entire family on these broad, broad shoulders of mine. Soon, I’ll have to start eating for four.”   Dahyun turns to you and Taehyung who are amused at their bickering. “I’m sorry. Please ignore him.”   It’s not a bad place, at least not so far. You weren’t sure what you were anticipating, but on the entire way here, you were worried that it was a scam your poor husband fell for. Luckily though, it seemed like the accommodation is good and the people around are friendly and welcoming, coming from different kinds of backgrounds and walks of life. It makes you feel better about not having internet connection or being murdered in the middle of the night.   The welcoming party turns out to be fairly nice too, and like Seokjin said, the food is delicious.   It’s a buffet style with tables set out, full of what Jimin declares is antioxidant-rich foods. He and Hyunjin go on a tangent about the benefits, how soy and estrogen foods have been limited, how there’s an emphasis on fruits, vegetables, carbohydrates, proteins and folic acid, and you’re sorely impressed at the attention to detail they provide.   “Oh my god. The salmon is amazing and have you tried these beans, Tae?!”   Taehyung laughs as he watches you eat, eyes lifted to look at you across the rounded table. “I thought you hated beans.”   “I do. But try it.” You lift your fork and he happily leans over, taking a bite. He swallows it down and smiles at how you stuff your cheeks.   After dinner, the pair of you gather with the rest to watch a few performances held on the main stage. Jimin introduces other staff members who sing, dance and Hyunjin even does a number with her ukulele, belting out some indie songs while standing bare feet.   It’s bizarre and a bit surreal to be sitting back in a lawn chair and watching some chick with flowers in her hair jump around and try to entertain you, but it’s not completely unwelcome. If anything, you were sort of having fun. The sun had set, making the weather milder. The breeze was warm against your cheeks and the fairy lights strung above were twinkling.   The whole atmosphere lulled you and with your head leaning on Taehyung’s shoulder, every blink became heavier and heavier. “This is nice,” you mutter and he catches it.   Your husband turns his head with a tiny smile. “Yeah?”   “Mhmh...”    You feel a wet kiss being planted at the top of your head and you decide to indulge, closing your eyes for just a moment. But the next time they open, you realize that the crowd has thinned, they’ve put on music on the stereo and Taehyung’s windbreaker is draped on top of you as a makeshift blanket.   “Hey there, sleepy head.” He grins at you when he notices your lashes fluttering. “Want me to carry you back to the yurt?”   “I’m fine.” It takes a second to get up and you stretch your arms out before the both of you make your way back to the yurt. There were a few younger couples lingering around and still taking in the scenery, but the years were catching up to you quickly and all you wanted was to dive into the sheets and satiate the rest of your sleepiness. “How long was I out for?”   “About half an hour?”   Taehyung fishes for the key and opens the door. “I didn’t even realize I was so tired.” You manage to kick off your shoes and beeline to the bathroom to brush your teeth.   “Of course, you were tired. You didn’t even sleep on the bus and for the past few days you’ve been up late doing research.”   You mumble incoherently, not having enough energy to argue with Taehyung and he grins, nudging you aside so he can grab his own toothbrush.    In the next ten minutes, it’s lights out. You’re rolled onto the bed, tucked into the warm sheets like a burrito, and Taehyung’s settled in as well. You hear his exhale and you allow your muscles to relax in the comfortable darkness. The exhaustion that’s been built from the entire day washes over you. But before you can drift off, in the quietness of the room, you remember.   And you reach out, arm stretched, feeling for your husband.   Taehyung hums when you tap his shoulder. You feel him shift and mumble, “What’s wrong?”   “I’m fertile,” you mutter with your eyes closed. “You need to stick your dick in me.”   He bursts out laughing and his arm slings over your abdomen. “It’s okay if we don’t have sex tonight, you know.”   You sigh, too fatigued to get up and do the job yourself. “We’re gonna miss our opportunity, Tae.”   A soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel yourself losing the fight to keep your consciousness. “We’ll have other chances. Relax.”   “Relaxing….isn't gonna give us a baby.”   “No, but it will keep my current baby sane.”   After being together for so many years, Taehyung knows how to make his words sound sweet and enticing. And before you can even damn him for always catering to you and babying you, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

[Day Two]   Breakfast is as incredible as dinner was. There’s a full fruit platter that’s apparently all organic and a number of carbohydrates to fill yourself all the way to lunch. But you begin to regret eating so much with the scheduled activity that follows.   “Couples yoga is a way to build intimacy and trust with your partner.” Hyunjin and Jimin smile brilliantly and you wonder if they’re happy go lucky all the time. It must be fucking exhausting.   “Taehyung.” You nudge the man beside you who’s intently listening and he turns his head. “You know I’m not flexible at all.”   “Don’t worry.” He flashes a blazing grin. It’s way too early for this. “This is just for fun and I’ll catch you if anything.”   “No. Last time I tried doing yoga, I pulled a muscle in my thigh—”   “Oh look. They’re doing the first pose!” Your husband excitedly lugs you down and you’re forced to comply, crossing your legs and facing him.    It’s simple at first. There are basic poses with him leaning against you. Although it is hard to find a good balance considering how tall Taehyung is and even for being lanky, he’s quite a bit stronger than you are. But when Hyunjin and Jimin begin to twist themselves around and Jimin holds her up by the feet with a single hand, you know it’s impossible.   Unlike Taehyung, you never did cheerleading or any acrobatics.   “You’re going to drop me or I’m going to snap your spine, Tae!”   “Don’t you trust me?”   You look at your half-monkey, half-clown of a husband. “Do you really want to know the truth?”   The both of you collapse into a heaping mess before he can confirm or deny. He laughs and starts tickling you for not being able to listen until you’re begging him to stop before you look more like an idiot than you already do.   There’s a few couples who do a good job and you giggle when Taehyung mutters passive aggressive comments on how they’re teacher’s pets or that their form is awful. But there’s the fair share of other pairs who do as bad as you, namely Seokjin and Dahyun, the old couple from last night, bickering at being unable to do any poses.   You can’t say that couple’s yoga is particularly relaxing, but it’s silly and you find yourself having fun.   Hyunjin leads the cool down exercise and Taehyung nearly whacks you in the head with how he stretches. Your glare gains his exaggerated pout then cheesy smile. “Now as the very last cool down exercise, we’re going to take our partners by the hand.”   You mimic her and clasp Taehyung’s hands, awaiting further instructions.    “And we’re going to gaze into their eyes.” What? “Focus into the colour of their irises, how brown or blue or green they might be, or even the pattern of them. Sometimes we don’t truly look at one another like we should.”   “What are they even saying?” you mutter and the corner of Taehyung’s mouth twitches. In spite of how bizarre it is, you follow and stare into Taehyung’s rounded eyes. They’re brown. Like they’ve always been.   But you must admit, when the morning sunlight catches his irises at particular angles, the colour is a lighter shade than usual. They’re quite bright too.   “They say if we gaze into the eyes of someone we love, our heartbeat synchronizes together.”   What? Your brows furrow skeptically and you’re about to turn away, but suddenly Taehyung grabs a hold of your chin. “Don’t look away,” he commands with an authoritative voice and you swallow hard.   “Okay.” You focus your eyes to enlarge and focus. “I’m looking.”   You wonder if this is a staring contest, but even with his wolfish smile and being married for so long, Taehyung’s intent stare starts to make you feel vulnerable. You wonder if he’s always looked at you so affectionately. More importantly, you realize that even with all his dumb antics — like deciding to paint the fence green and then stopping halfway or ripping out the cabinets in the kitchen and never replacing them like he intended — you still love this sweet and kind dummy.   “Alright. Everyone can relax now,” Jimin announces softly as he claps and you finally blink a few times, eyes stinging from how you forced them open. “That’s the end of this session. Thank you for joining everyone.”   Yet, Taehyung holds your gaze a moment longer. And before you can pipe up and tell him it’s over, the man leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He smiles when he pulls away. “As much as sweat is a good look on you, I think it’s time to shower, Mrs. Kim.”   You scoff and he holds your hand with an enormous grin, dragging you back to the yurt.   The two of you hop into the shower together, a habit that Taehyung insists is to save water for the good of the environment, but you swear half the time, you end up wasting more than if either of you do it separately. You’re sure that right now is one of those times.   “Hey.” You turn around as he’s lathering up his shampoo.   “Hey, yourself.” He smiles and shifts towards the stream of water before screaming at how hot it is. Taehyung quickly adjusts it, dissipating the fog on the glass. “Why do you like bathing in molten lava, woman?”   “You always make it too cold.” You scoff, but don’t dwell on the argument as you lean into his backside. “Listen, should we get a quickie in?”   Taehyung frees himself of the soap and looks at you. “If we do, we’ll miss lunch and then the hike.”   “We’re going on a hike?!”   “Yep, so hurry up cause if we don’t get lunch, we’re not gonna make it!” He gets out of the shower, leaving you to be bludgeoned by the ice, cold water. You sigh in exasperation.   The purpose of coming here is to conceive, not go on a hike. But with how enthused he is, you begrudgingly join.   Afternoons are the worst out here. The sun is sweltering and there isn’t an ounce of a breeze or a wind. As a result, the heat stifles and lingers without dissipating, causing sweat to dampen your clothing and stick to the back of your neck. The weather exhausts you and you feel your creamy lunch pasta up your throat again as you lug your legs up the steep, rocky incline.    No matter how much you try to keep up, you fall behind from the group.   Taehyung twirls around with a big grin, mouth perfectly symmetrically. “Are you okay?”   “W-What does it look like?” you pant. It’s unfair that Taehyung works out once a year and treats his body like a candy trashcan but is still more fit than you are.    “I can carry you if you want.”   “You’re going to snap in half carrying me.” You pass him as he laughs.    You hear him catch up, feet skipping along like he’s playing hopscotch. Then suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted off the ground and you shriek, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck. You’re scooped up in his arms like he’s about to kick down the door into the bedroom, but instead, he starts sprinting up the path like a maniac.   “Taehyung!” you squeal and he laughs again.   “Isn’t this better?”   “Aren’t you tired?”   “If I say yes, you’re gonna think I’m trying to tell you to lose weight, but for the record, I like how soft you are.”   You roll your eyes, embarrassed as you pass a few couples, but none of them seem to find it bizarre and they even smile warmly at you and Taehyung. Yet, he starts to slow down tremendously after a few minutes, panting and sweating profusely. You ask him if he’s going to put you down yet, but you underestimate just how stubborn your dear husband is. Taehyung refuses until you’re up at the top of the trail, making it to where Jimin and Hyunjin are by the waterfall.    There, you’re finally on set on your feet again.   You pass him your water bottle. “Drink it before I’m the one dragging you down.”   He grins and downs it.   Up here, it’s much more refreshing and easier to breathe. There’s a tiny waterfall coming from the higher mountains and there are trees around to provide shade. When you squint, you can see the campsite at a distance with all the yurts.   “We should take some pictures!” Taehyung declares when he steadies his breath and pulls out his selfie stick from the hideous fanny pack that you still won’t admit is pretty convenient.   “Your mom is gonna want a copy so don’t pull any ugly faces, Tae.”   “My face is never ugly.” He tugs you beside him and snaps a few shots before reviewing them carefully. Taehyung always had an eye for these kinds of things. “We didn’t get a good angle of the water.”   “I can take it for you.”   “What’s the point if we’re not together?” His thick brows are furrowed, lips lopsided, sighing.   A matronly and friendly voice pipes up next to you, “Do you need any help?”   Dahyun is smiling with Seokjin beside her and Taehyung appears relieved. “Yes, please.”   She takes his phone as he folds back his selfie stick and she stands off to the side, capturing you and Taehyung smiling with his arm around you. “One. Two. Three. I’ll take another one.”   Dahyun changes the angle a bit and Taehyung leans over to pull on your cheek while you feign a glare at him. The second picture is taken while the woman and her husband laugh, endeared. “There we go. You can check them to see if they’re good.”   The phone is handed back and by Taehyung’s expression, it seems acceptable. “You two are too cute. When did you get married?”   “Oh, I think three years ago? Yeah. Three.”    It’s much longer than it actually feels. It seemed like it was a week ago when you first met in class and thought he was annoying. Like yesterday, he was supposed to propose at a fancy restaurant but failed when you found the ring box the night before — how he screamed at you to stop, but it was too late and he ended up going with it. They’ve all become memories that you cherish.   “We met back in school and dated a while before getting married.”   Dahyun smiles. “Have you decided how many kids you want yet?”   You hitch a thumb to Taehyung. “He wants four, but I’m fine with two.”   “The bigger the family, the better, right?” he says, looking up from the screen of his phone.   “Wait until you have kids, you’ll end up wanting more,” Seokjin chuckles, “That or you’ll want to give them all away, but personally, I could raise a whole football team if she’d let me.”   His wife jabs him in the ribs. “Yeah, because you’re not the one who has to give birth to them.”   “And that’s why you’re the boss of the house.” He pouts at her while the corners of his mouth tickle up into a smile, and she relents.   “Let’s be honest, the real boss of the house is our little troublemaker. I swear he took after all your bad traits.”   Seokjin gasps. “Excuse me, Youngjae is my most masterful creation...even if he painted all over our leather seats and popped our car tire with his batman toy.”   She shakes her head with a light sigh, but it’s hard to hide her beaming expression. “I should’ve known he would give me trouble when he went past the due date for two weeks.”   “T-two weeks?” you sputter.   Dahyun nods, finally having the sympathy she was trying to fish out of her husband. “My stomach was as big as a watermelon and I was in labour for fourteen hours before I ended up getting an emergency c-section and he came out a whopping ten pounds.”   Your head is swirling as you try to imagine a ten pound baby in this petite woman.   It almost seems like a horror story that’s waiting to be picked up by Hollywood.   “But honestly, the hardest part wasn’t the whole pregnancy or birthing process. It was afterwards.” Her exhale is long and fatigued. “Suddenly there’s another human being you’re responsible for and you have to take care of them while you’re still in recovery. I remember when Youngjae couldn’t stop crying in the middle of the night. I always had an idea that having kids was a lot of work, but you really don’t have time for yourself once they’re born, and not to mention my bladder was completely done for after the whole thing.”   “Alright, alright.” Her husband pulls her close. “I already know you’re a woman warrior. I saw it with my own eyes.”   Dahyun smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes and she turns to him, deadpanning, “No, you didn’t. You passed out half-way.”   “I was there in spirit,” Seokjin insists humorously.   Dahyun scoffs while Taehyung grins at their back and forth that’s reminiscent of his own dynamic with you. “But were they worth it?”   “Oh, a thousand percent,” Dahyun responds without needing a second to consider, expression softening. “Enough that I would want to do it all over again.”   She doesn’t get a chance to say much else when Jimin’s voice pierces through the chatter and everyone gathers together with the last stragglers who have finally made it up. “Thank you, everyone, for coming all the way up here. This is Serenity Falls that was actually…”   But his voice drowns out.   You linger on what Dahyun said, about child rearing and birthing, and there’s nothing that can be done to the uneasy emotion swelling inside of you.   The walk back down is silent. Done without a single complaint from you about the hot weather or how your feet ache. Taehyung notices, glancing at you several times. He doesn’t say anything until you’re back at the yurt.    “What’s wrong?”   You look at him from across the room. “Nothing, why?”   “You’ve just been quiet.”   “I just….” You inhale and decide to divulge him. “I was just thinking about what Dahyun and Seokjin were saying. Do you think we’re cut out for this, Taehyung?”   His head quirks to one side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”   “You and I can barely take care of ourselves.”   “That’s not true.”   “We forget to buy food all the time.”   “That makes midnight snack runs fun.” He grins.   You exhale an unsteady breath and Taehyung approaches you. He doesn’t mind how sweaty you are and wraps his arms around your waist. “We’ll figure it out. You said it yourself, right? One step at a time.”   “But what if it’s too much and you decide you don’t want to do it anymore? Or that...you don’t want to be with me?” He opens his mouth, but you keep going before he can jump in. It’s not just about you being self-conscious or needing reassurance. You’re simply trying to imagine the worst case scenario as realistically as you can. “Like when I’m still bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do.”   “I’ll still love you no matter the changes,” Taehyung murmurs earnestly, searching your expression. “Even if you’re bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do. I’ll use google to figure it out and get the baby to calm down and I’ll get you some chocolate and I’ll rub your feet.”   You scoff lightly. “You make it sound so easy.”   “Maybe because it won’t be as hard as you think. I’m great with kids and we got killer teamwork, you know, plus this baby’ll be the best project we’ve ever done together.”   “A project that’s gonna last us eighteen years.” You smile.   Taehyung laughs, the sound mellifluous in the room. “Which isn’t that long considering how fast time moves.”   You hum and encircle your arms around his neck. Taehyung gets the hint and leans in to seal your lips against his, slotting them together to kiss you the way he knows you like it.   It’s slow, comforting, an opportunity to revel in the softness of his lips. Taehyung gives you courage — he always has and when you break apart, smiling against each other, you feel worlds better than before. “I’m gonna start a bubble bath. You can join me if you want.”   It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, one Taehyung fully recognizes and makes him smile in amusement as you saunter away. Taking advantage of the tub in the bathroom, you lower the stopper of the drain and dump in the soap they offer. The water gets filled three quarters way with a layer of bubbles and you strip. You sigh as you get comfortable in the tub.   “Is it warm?”   Your husband leans against the doorway, arms crossed and the corner of his mouth curled.   “Uh-huh.” You loll your head on the edge of the tub and lift up your foot, watching the way the water cascades off your skin. “Are you not going to get in?”   “Maybe later,” Taehyung surprisingly replies. He rarely rejects any chance at jumping your bones when you’re being this forward about it. There’s no hike or lunch to catch that’s preventing him from having fun with you either. But as your husband walks out, you catch him unceremoniously stealing the clothes you have prepared and the stack of towels by the sink.   “What are you doing?”   “There’s no point in covering yourself up if I’m gonna strip you anyway.” He flashes a mischievous grin and you sigh, relenting in his antics. You simply lay back to enjoy the water, muscles relaxing and your brain that’s constantly in overdrive empties.   After ten minutes, your skin begins to wrinkle, so you drain the water and get out. But the moment you stand up, the cool air conditioning slams into you and your body starts to shiver.   “Taehyung!” you shout and hear silence. “At least give me a towel!”   Fortunately for you, there’s a smaller one on the rack he missed so you swipe at it and wrap your shoulders to protect yourself. But you’re still dripping wet and in need of your clothes, so you stomp out to find your ridiculous partner who’s apparently five years old and—   “HA!” Said man you’re searching for bursts out of the closet and you scream, startled half to death, nearly falling to the ground. Taehyung starts to laugh like a maniac.   “Are you serious?!” You gawk at him. “How long did you even wait there for?”   “Like five minutes ago.” The bastard wolfishly grins. “Worth it though.”   You cock a brow at him, sighing. “So that’s why you didn’t join me in the bath?”   “No. I didn’t join you, so I could do this.” He yanks the towel where your breasts meet, leaving you nude. Goosebumps rise all over your skin and your nipples harden in the frigid air.   You screech, arms trying to cover yourself. “Taehyung, it’s cold!” “I can warm you up,” he says but then runs away when he reads the glare on your face, giggling boyishly. It’s completely childish. If anyone was watching, you’d be mortified, but it’s been a long time since there was any shame in your marriage, so you stomp after him while nude.    You hunt the man down while he tries to evade by rounding the coffee table. It’s no longer about grabbing clothes or covering yourself up, it’s time for revenge.   Luckily, the yurt isn’t big enough to have a game of tag. You manage to reach him and you steal the opportunity to yank his pants down. Taehyung, mid-laugh, trips on his feet and stumbles on the carpet. You burst out giggles, looking at his ass in the air and he giggles too from the infectious sound bubbling up your throat.   “Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” He mutters in a low voice with half-lidded eyes and you scramble away with another shriek.   “You started it!” You jump onto the bed and Taehyung kicks off his pants. You don’t ask why he’s skipped out on wearing boxers, but you notice he’s already half-hard and that only makes you laugh louder.   He chases after you as you duck and steal his own tactic of rounding the coffee table. But unfortunately for you, Taehyung has always been destined to win with his longer legs. He catches you within two strides and snatches you as you scream. You’re thrown over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes and he smirks. “Caught you.”   “Taehyung! People are gonna hear!” You laugh in spite of being the one who’s making most of the noise and he tosses you onto the bed. Usually, you hate to be manhandled, but your husband’s the only exception to the rule.   “Let them hear.”   He hovers over you and the laughter dies down. Taehyung stares earnestly into your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow. But you don’t like to lose and as his wife of three years, you know his one, true weakness.    Your fingers lift to Taehyung’s armpits and he seizes when you start tickling him. You laugh when he does and once he doubles over, there’s an opening to the left, a perfect escape route. You steal the opportunity while you still have it and start to climb off the bed, but he regains his breath and grabs your ankle, tugging you back to him in one swift motion without even needing to try.    Taehyung grins. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.”    “Yeah, and I know you like it.”   He grabs your wrists before you can make another tickle attack and pins it above your head. You can tell that there’s no more time for jokes or any more playing around, not when you can feel his hard cock against your stomach.   “You smell good,” he sighs into your neck, inhaling deeply. “Cherry blossom? Peony?”   “Strawberries,” you answer. “You smell like sweat.”   “You’re gonna end up like me anyway.” Taehyung smiles and leans in to kiss you. It isn’t shy or chaste. His tongue licks into your mouth and you exhale, a strangled moan muffled against his lips as you melt against him. He finally has you where he wants and you let him take control.   The pair of you swap spit for a few minutes until he releases your hands, allowing you to curl your fingers into his shoulders as he caresses your waist.    Taehyung eventually breaks away with a playful glint in his eyes. “You wanna try the toys?”   You both look at the basket half across the room and he rolls off of you. You get to your feet to inspect it for yourself and discover an array of colourful gadgets, some that you’ve tried before and others that you’re sure needs to have an instruction manual with it.    “I’m not putting any of these dildos in me, Tae. I don’t know where they’ve been.”   “I know.” He lays with his head propped up by his hand and you eye something at the bottom of the basket. You pull out a leather whip and look at him. “Ooh, a classic pick there, sweetheart.”   A whip seems more sanitary considering it doesn’t have to go in anyone’s orifices.   “Is it?” You approach with a tiny smile, staring down the innocent man. “Roll over.”   “What?”   “I’ll whip you.” You grin and he blinks at you. More often than not, you’re the more submissive one in bed, but the idea of having Taehyung crying out and the idea of you cackling at his pain has him immediately rolling face down in intrigue and you stepping up on the bed.   He turns his face to the side. “Do you know how to do it?”   “How hard can it be?” There’s a pause. “But tell me if it hurts.”   “The point is to make it hurt, Y/N.”   “Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt you-hurt you.”   “I can handle it.” Taehyung smirks and you scoff.    Even in this position, he’s trying to maintain his dominance.   You grip it tightly and don’t count. Simply, with a flick your wrist, you slam the whip across his backside. It makes a loud cracking sound and you hear Taehyung sharply inhale. His teeth grit and you freeze, watching his expression carefully.   “How was it?”   “Is my back split open?” he asks, trying to look over his shoulder.   “No.”   “I think I might have to go to the ER.” He sits up completely, overdramatic in the way he fumbles around and his tone filled with some mischief. “I think there’s internal bleeding. Or my spine is broken. I wouldn’t be surprised.”   “It’s fine, Tae.” you laugh. So much for telling you to go for it. But you already had an inkling Taehyung wasn’t one for receiving pain. After all, he’s still your whiny baby who only eats vanilla yogurt. “Not your thing?”   “Not my thing.” He takes the whip from your hand and tosses it across the room. “I have a better toy in mind.”   You’re about to remind him you’re not gonna put any of those communal toys inside of you, but he instead walks over to his suitcase and starts tearing some clear packaging open with something pink inside. You read the label — it’s a remote control vibrating egg.   Your brows furrow. “When did you get that?”   “Two days before we left. Amazon prime, babe.”   “So that’s what you were looking at when you told me you were doing some online shopping?”   “Precisely.” Taehyung grins and you’re not sure if you should be pleasantly surprised or in dismay since the two of you have already made a pact not to buy anything else online. The treadmill bought on an impulse is still taking up half the space of the living room.   Before you can think too much, Taehyung gets it open and comes over. He nudges your thighs to open and you lay back, leaning against the headboard. You’re not that wet yet, if at all, but it doesn’t stay that way when his long fingers rub against your clit in circles.    With his other hand, he strokes against your slit and then sinks his index finger in knuckle deep. You throw back your head, moaning his name at the intrusion while he remains silent, intently watching your pink cunt squeeze. Taehyung curls his finger and swallows hard. The sloppy sounds of your cunt fill the room and he hums in satisfaction.   “Okay. Ready?”   “Uh-huh.”   The head of the cold egg meets your folds and it slowly enters. While the toy might not be big or long, the girth stretches against your warm walls and you keen. Taehyung makes a low noise, encouraging you to take it. When it’s in, he smiles brilliantly. “Good job, sweetheart. You did it.”   “Now what?”   “This, of course.” Taehyung dangles the remote in front of you and then like a psycho, he ramps it up to the highest possible setting. Intense vibrations are felt through your body instantaneously and you cry, head knocked back against the headboard as your velvet walls squeeze and tremble.   “T-Taehyung!”   “Good?”   “I-It’s too much!” You’re completely at his mercy and he takes advantage of it, drinking you in with a wolfish smile. You’re unable to muster a glare at him, reduced to a complete mess while your center leaks and drips onto the sheet. Still, you try to reach over to the remote.   He dodges when you lunge at him. “Nu-uh.”   Luckily, you get a hold of your husband and climb over to him. His arm is extended straight up, laughing as you try to snatch it from him. He waves it inches away to mock you while enjoying the sight of you quivering on top of him. “T-Tae!”   “Okay, okay.” He laughs and transfers it into his other hand, about to turn the setting down a notch. But right at the moment you’re about to snag it for yourself, the remote flies out of his hand. It falls through the gap between the wall and the headboard.   It clatters to the ground.   “Oh shit.”   “Taehyung!”   “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rolls off the mattress and looks underneath the bed before abruptly standing. “I’m going to need a long stick or something.”   He starts to look around the room, searching for a tool to grab the remote that’s out of reach, and you don’t know if you should suffocate him with a pillow or facepalm yourself hard enough to get knocked out into a coma.   You can pull out the egg yourself, but the violent vibrations were beginning to thrum pleasure through you, so as your useless husband goes fishing for the remote, you finish the job. Your fingers play with your clit, rubbing the bud as your slick drips down your thighs and you come hard on the toy.   The same moment light flashes beneath your eyelids and your toes curl, Taehyung grabs the remote with the help of a rolled brochure and shuts it off. The both of you are winded for different reasons.   “You know, I'd say that was pretty hot if not for how stressful that actually was.”   “You’re an idiot.” You tug the toy out of you and bat him over lazily, feeling spent on how hard you came. “Now dump some sperm in me, idiot.”   Taehyung has a cheesy grin and climbs over you. Despite the struggles of grabbing the toy’s remote, he’s fully hard from the noises you were making. “I’d tell you to ask more nicely, but I’ll let it go.”   He aligns the head of his weeping cock to your swollen cunt and leans his weight into you. He starts to push in and you whine, gripping his forearms. As wet as you are, Taehyung is still well-endowed — less girthy than the toy, but there’s a considerable length to him.    When he bottoms out, you can feel him all the way to your throat.   He tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and kisses you. “Sorry about earlier.”   “’t’s okay. It was fun,” you admit and he smiles, starting to work up a good rhythm. You feel hot in your face with the pressure of his body on top of yours, hardened nipples brushing against his chest. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his length. It draws Taehyung’s groans into your neck.   “F-Fuck. You’re so tight.”   It feels good and you know he’s reveling in the pleasure too. His eyes are shut tight, the scrunch made between his brows and it entices you to reach up and kiss him to which he sweetly indulges you. Your tongues twine as you pant against each other and Taehyung starts to lose his pacing.   He bends your knee, hitting you at a deeper angle as his strokes become increasingly frantic and quick. You egg him on and he groans once more before he thrusts himself as deep as he can go and cums. Ropes of white paint your walls, the head of his cock against your cervix and filling your cunt and womb up. You can feel some of it dribbling out, seeping past your folds and when Taehyung’s about to withdraw, you quickly grab his forearm.   “Wait. Just stay put for a second. I have to keep it in.”   He nods and kisses your lips. “Okay.”   Taehyung nestles into you, nuzzling into your neck and you hope this is the one.

[Day Three]   There were lots of activities and amenities offered and advertised by Jimin during the introduction of the retreat, but you realize you might’ve missed over the most important one of all.   “How does that feel?” the massage therapist asks as she works a knot out of your shoulders and smooths your skin with the oil.   “Amazing,” you murmur from the corner of your mouth, melted against the table.    Couples massages were something you always scoffed at, but holy shit, it’s absolutely paradise. With the breeze blowing through the pitched tent and the glowing humidifier releasing a fresh scent, you’ve never been more relaxed as all the stiffness is worked out of you.   You open your eyes to see Taehyung enjoying it as well — though not as much as you are since he’s quite ticklish. Sometimes, he squirms a bit too much and his massage therapist is at a loss of what to do.   But when it’s all done, you feel like you’re in a new body. “Oh my god. I think I’m more flexible than before. Look, Tae!”   You stretch your leg and he giggles at how happy your mood is. “If I knew you liked it this much, I would’ve signed us up for one at the spy near the gym.”   Your eyes are wide, catching the sunlight. “Do you think they’re as good as this place?”   Taehyung grins. “Probably.”   “We should go when we get back then. Oh, do you wanna check out the library?”   “Sure.”   You grab his hand, lacing your fingers together and he smiles to himself.    It’s a free day without many planned activities, giving you both an opportunity to look around the retreat for yourselves and take it easy. And the pair of you take full advantage of the opportunity. Since morning, you were lazing around the yurt and after breakfast and the massages, you decide to lay in one of the hammocks by the trees while Taehyung naps with you.    Said man hasn't seen you this stress free in a while, so he happily indulges you in all your wishes. Even when night falls and you step away from the stage where Hyunjin is performing again to stargaze. It’s an odd activity for you since mosquitoes love to especially swarm around you when given the chance and on numerous occasions, you’ve been a moth landing spot.   But tonight, the breeze is soft and gentle, and you don't feel any tickles on your skin that isn’t Taehyung’s hand grazing against yours. The grass is pliant beneath your feet and the fairy lights twinkle far away enough that its luminescence doesn’t obstruct. You knock your heads back to view the horizon, allowing the darkness to engulf you and the stars to emerge.   “Remember Bali?”   “When you lost your passport?”   “When we went stargazing with the tour group,” Taehyung corrects. “It still wasn’t as beautiful as this.”   “You think everything in front of you is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You said that about the Eiffel and then Tokyo Tower.”   He laughs. “Hey, my mind doesn’t change that often. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”   You scoff, looking away from the sky towards him with a pout. He always knows how to lay on the sappiness without needing to blink. Your dear husband has always been shameless in that aspect and you adore him for it. “So I’m a thing to you now?”   “You know that’s not what I mean.” He wraps his arms around your waist. The both of you stare up at the sky. “Is that the big dipper?”   You look at where he’s pointing to the large clusters of stars. “I can’t see it. Maybe that’s scorpio.”   “Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung tries guessing, “It might be taurus or gemini. Or libra.”   “Aren’t you just naming astrological signs now?”   “Maybe.” He grins. “I’m a capricorn.”   “Yes, I know.” You two of you clearly don’t know anything about constellations or how to find them, but it doesn’t make the moment any less enjoyable. Yet when your necks start to ache, he takes your hand and strolls down the path through the trees. “Taehyung. What if we get lost?”   None of you have your phones or any flashlights. There’s only the crescent moon giving off its light. “Don’t worry. I have a great sense of direction.”   “You and I both know that’s not true.”   “You have a great sense of direction, so we won’t get lost,” he says and you sigh without putting much of an argument up. Not when you knew he was headed to the lake you had peeked at earlier in the afternoon, and now it was shimmering with the moonlight, reflecting the starry horizon in its water.   There’s a certain kind of peacefulness, a serenity that you would never get back in the city or even the suburbs. Certainly not without light pollution or the occasional car whizzing past. Here, there is none of those noises, none of those distractions, just you and Taehyung savouring the view⁠—   “Hey.” But of course, your mischievous husband has to have ulterior motives for coming all the way here. And you know there are ulterior motives by that glint in his eye and the sly smile he has.   “What?”    “Wanna take a dip?”   Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Are you crazy? It’s probably freezing! What if we get hypothermia and die?”   “For the record, you’d make one beautiful angel. But I’ll warm you up before it gets to that point.” Taehyung grins and starts stripping, tugging his shirt right off his head. It’s always been like this — him proposing something out of your norm, you try to voice your concerns, and then you’re the one who’s diving head first into it without hesitation and end up having more fun than he does.   “God, it’s so cold!”    The moment the water touches your toes, you recoil. But you brace yourself and continue onward with your entire body shivering. It’s your first time skinny dipping ⁠— something normally reserved for rebellious teenagers and most certainly not for late twenty-some year olds. Yet neither of you have qualms, even if you’re shrieking and Taehyung is laughing and following behind you.   “It’s freezing, Taehyung!”   “Come here.” He pulls you to him so your backside is pressed to his front and you wonder how Taehyung can be so warm all the time. The pair of you get waist deep into it and you turn around to grip him. Your husband smiles and holds onto you, eventually going far enough that the water reaches your shoulders. “See? Isn’t this nice?”   You hum, gazing up at the stars and the moon, the sight reflected on the water and how you’re pressed to Taehyung. “Seems like the beginning of a horror movie.” He laughs and your feet try to reach down to find stability, but you realize you can’t touch the ground anymore and your grip on him tightens. “Walk back a bit, Tae.”   “Why?”   “You know I can’t swim.”   His mouth curls. “But I like how you’re holding onto me. I won’t let go,” he adds after a long pause, “if you beg me not to.”   Your arms immediately come to loop around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, latching onto him in a vice grip like a koala does to a branch. “Taehyung! I’m not kidding.”   “Oh...oh!” The bastard pretends that he’s gonna let go of you and actually does for a split-second. He laughs at your panicked expression. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”   You feign a pointed glare that turns out to be more of a pout. “You’re lucky I like you.”   “You only like me?”   “Yeah and if you keep going, I’m going to demote you from husband to friend.”   Taehyung makes a pained, sharp sound. “Can’t let that happen then.” He suddenly hoists you up higher, grip secure on your thighs and smiles brilliantly while you scoff.   You savour the view and the warmth of his body heat, but you’re slightly distracted. “Do you think anyone’s gonna steal our clothes, Tae?” You squint at the small pile near the shore.   “Who would?”   “I don’t know. What if a bear comes from the bushes and takes them? We’ll have to walk back naked.”   “I’m pretty sure there aren’t bears here, Y/N. Stop overthinking it.” Taehyung suddenly grabs a hold of your chin and turns your head for you to look only at him. Then, he kisses you in a soft and gentle way before the tip of his tongue meets the seam of your lips. You happily oblige, parting them and allowing him access to your tongue and giving him a taste of you.   The man hums in satisfaction as soft smacking noises fill the surroundings. You lean into his firm frame while Taehyung’s large hands slinks from your thigh to the curve of your ass. You feel his thumb probe against your folds.   “T-Taehyung.” His hard length is beneath you and you grind down on him, feeling empty. It draws a groan from his throat.   After a moment, you get his cock inside of you. The stretch soothes the itch you had, filling your cunt deliciously. But unlike the movies, it’s not enough for you. The water washes away the lubricant, each stroke rough and the glide slower than you’d like. So you beg him and the both of you are dragged up onto the shore again.   You turn on all fours. The pebbles uncomfortably dig into your knees, but it’s a distraction that blurs into the background when Taehyung pounds into you. You feel all of him, his body heat against yours, each thrusting movement flicking off the droplets of water from your skin. And when Taehyung turns your head to kiss you while rubbing at your clit, you cum around his cock.   He finishes as you beg for it and Taehyung’s sticky fluids leak down your thighs on the trek back.

[Day Four]   Taehyung blinks blearily, slowly coming to consciousness. He scratches his bed head and groans at how his muscles ache. But when he turns his head, the other side of the bed is cold and empty. His eyes widen in confusion and he feels more awake than before.   He checks the time and realizes he slept in, a total of ten hours, which isn’t a surprise considering how last night’s rendezvous continued and was more intense than usual. What is unusually, however, is that you’re gone.   But he soon finds you outside. Bathing in the sun. Laying in a hammock. Napping with a book next to you.   Your eyes flutter open as his shadow covers your figure. The corner of his mouth pulls.   “Morning.”   You sheepishly grin. “Morning.”    “What time did you get up?”   “Like an hour ago. The breeze was nice so I thought I’d do some reading, but I guess I accidentally fell asleep.”   “Looks like you’ve gotten comfortable.” Taehyung’s enormous smile aches his cheeks. You’ve fallen in love with this place more than he has, but he doesn’t mind whatsoever. He loves watching you have fun.   The two of you have breakfast, inhaling in the food, and then head to a meditation class on the grass led by Hyunjin. Typically, Taehyung has to convince you to take part in such a session and you’d usually wave it off as a waste of time. But there are no qualms or an ounce of hesitation in your expression when you head over.   “Now breathe in, and out, a steady stream of breath. Think about all that you are grateful for. Everything that has made your life amazing, and let that positive energy surround you as the negative energy releases.”   But while you’re eager, Taehyung, on the other hand, finds out that meditation is not cut out for him. He’s bored out of his mind from the lack of stimulation. Time feels like it’s dragging on slower, each second a minute and a minute is an hour. Somehow, meditating makes him feel even more exhausted than before and his mind ends up wandering.   Taehyung thinks about how he’s really craving some fatty burgers instead of the organic oatmeal and yogurt he had — how hot the weather is — how it’s hard to breathe — how sweat sticks to his skin.   “Hold your breath for three seconds and release for three seconds.”   He sighs and peels back an eye to see you with your hands pressed together, concentrated in following instructions. The corner of his mouth tickles into a smile.   As bored as he is, it’s worth seeing you happy.   //   The more excited you are about something, the more you run around from place to place and Taehyung’s resorted to looking for you. Luckily, the resort is small, so he finds you in front of the main building, chatting to a certain brunette with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks.   “—heard that doggy actually works for some people, but for me, it doesn’t feel right...like…”   “The head of the cock isn’t right up against the cervix?” Jimin hums thoughtfully. “Have you tried angling your leg better? Sometimes you need to bend a bit and he needs to be leaning towards the side rather than just hovering straight on top.”   What.   Taehyung’s brows lift and he quickly approaches. Your face lights up when you see him. “Oh, hey.”   “I was looking for you.” Taehyung throws his arm over your shoulder and subtly tugs you into his chest. He looks at the other man, eyes narrowed in on him which he doesn’t seem to notice.   “Sorry, I was just caught up with Jimin.”   “What were you talking about?”   “What position is best for conception.” You blink innocently like it’s not a big deal you’re exploiting the details about your sex lives to another guy, and while he’s not embarrassed whatsoever, it was a bit too much information being shared for Taehyung’s liking. “Turns out elevating the hips might not help as much as we thought it does.”   “Huh.” Taehyung deadpans, “That’s interesting.”   “I know, right?” Your expression is bright, oblivious to his turmoil. At the same time, Hyunjin exits from the building in yet another flower crown and flowy skirt. She smiles at the both of you and joins Jimin’s side, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek and holding his hand.   “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”   You smile at her. “No, it’s okay.”   The woman nods and looks to her partner while her voice drops into a more private tone. “Just wanted to let you know that Taehoon and I are done.”   As if to validate her words, a timid yet tall man exits the building and they wave goodbye to one another before he walks off towards the parking lot. Jimin smiles. “Did you have fun?”   “Yeah. It was nice.”   Both you and Taehyung exchange expressions. He wonders if you’re thinking what he is or if he’s understanding the insinuations correctly.    As if they catch the inquisitive looks on your faces, they smile in a relaxed way. There’s no need to explain anything to either of you when you’re strangers, but they’re open enough and Hyunjin says, “Taehoon’s my second partner.”   “Second...partner?”    “Hyunjin and I are in an open relationship,” Jimin clarifies in a friendly manner. “It’s not really traditional, but it works well for us.”   “Oh.” Taehyung and you wordlessly bob your heads. He’s pretty sure they mentioned it during their introduction but it slipped his mind. They must get asked a lot of questions too since Hyunjin answers what he’s thinking, telling the both of you there’s not a lot of jealousy involved since they trust each other wholeheartedly and communicate a lot. And rather than finding it bizarre, you’re left intrigued. Taehyung notices as you walk away.   “Do you want an open relationship too?”   “You know it would never work for us.” You lean over, hugging his arm. “I’m too possessive for that.”   He laughs. “Then what about talking to Jimin about our sex positions?”   “He’s a professional.” You shrug. “I thought I could get helpful advice. Why?”   “Nothing, it’s just kind of weird.”    Jimin doesn’t look like a professional. He looks like just some dude in khaki shorts and a white shirt, obnoxiously bulging biceps, probably has rock hard abs, and he’s in an open relationship and clearly doesn’t mind chatting up you, aka Taehyung’s wife.   “Are you jealous?”   “What? No.” Taehyung scoffs, suddenly defensive and you give him that look like you know him better than that. “I just don’t think we don’t need to ask for help yet, and at least not about our positions. We’re gonna have a baby one way or another, Y/N. We just have to be patient.”   “Tell that to my dying eggs.” You walk off and Taehyung grins.   “My sperm’s strong enough that it’ll rescue your dying eggs.”   //   Evening eventually comes and you try to revel in the surrounding sights, the atmosphere of the entire place and the very cozy yurt you’ve grown to adore. It’s sad knowing that tomorrow you’ll have to depart from the resort. You regret not coming here with a more open mind. That way, you could’ve enjoyed and embraced this place much sooner.   “Actually, I’m kind of glad. I’m getting sick of them serving the same food.”   You’re shocked at your husband’s apathy. “But it’s antioxidant-rich—”   “I just want some fried chicken or a burger.”   You scoff. “That’s why the doctor told you to lower your blood sugar and you’re not even over forty yet.” But still, you’re taken aback that he’s not in love with the resort. “Out of everyone, I thought this would’ve been your haven. I was expecting you to beg me to build a cabin here or something to stay.”   Taehyung hums, leaning back into the chair. “I’m not saying the resort is bad. As long as I get to spend time with you, I like it. And I like that you like it.”   “Psh.” He always knows how to say the right thing, especially when he’s doing it absentmindedly and not trying to get something out of you. You lean over, hand lifting to squeeze his cheeks together and you turn his head to kiss him. Taehyung smiles at the soft and affectionate gesture. But you look at him with half-lidded eyes that mean more. “Wanna ditch?”   It’s the final celebration that Jimin and Hyunjin are happily hosting, but you don’t mind leaving for some more quality time with Taehyung, and he happily agrees.   The both of you sneak out of the crowd, stumbling back into the yurt, giggly and giddy like you’re still teenagers trying to be stealthy at midnight. Taehyung kisses you silly and soon, your back is hitting the mattress. He almost rips your dress with how hastily he tries to tear it off your head and you’re stuck for a moment until you manage to get it off.   But in spite of how childish your antics are or how Taehyung blows raspberries on your tummy, each one of his touches is intimate and loving. He holds your hips down and eats you out until you cum twice. Then you’re flipped onto your stomach with him on top of you — his cock is dug into your pussy, every draw and thrust delicious. Your walls pulse along his length and you moan his name and clutch the sheets with tight fists.   You relish in the pressure of his body pressed on top of yours as he pounds into you. It only takes a few minutes before he’s releasing into your womb, cumming hard enough that you feel it too.   He rolls off of you, spent, but you gather your energy and hold him down for a second round.   You’re a woman on a mission and you’re going to make sure you leave this resort with Kim Taehyung’s baby inside of you.

[Day Five]   The final day of the resort has arrived much to your dismay, and you feel sad enough to cry.   “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.”   “It’s our pleasure.” Hyunjin grins, her arms wrapped around Jimin’s. “We just hope you had a great time at our resort.”   “Yes, I really loved it.”   “Our doors are always open,” Jimin affirms. “If nothing’s stuck, you can always come back or if you’re ever looking for more siblings for the little one, you can come again too. We’re happy to welcome anyone that’s family back.”   You’re moved by their words and much to Taehyung’s dismay, you give a brief embrace to each of them. You also manage to see the newlywed couple, Hoseok and Rose, who are still smiling and somehow look even more in-love than when they arrived. Dahyun and Seokjin, as well, wish you luck on your adventures.    “We might be coming back real soon.” The woman sighs, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “That husband of mine is planning to book another trip next month.”   “So soon?”   Dahyun nods with a long exhale. “I think he’s hoping I’m not pregnant so we can come here again.” Your laugh spurs on her own and you’re able to resonate with the hopelessness of husbands.   Everyone is boarding the same bus, but this is the last opportunity to gather when people are getting dropped off from different places. So you make sure to savour the moment, get your last goodbyes in, and Taehyung pulls out his phone to snap several pictures of you for keepsakes.   Then, the two of you board the bus with your luggage and settle in your seats.   “You know,” you pipe up and Taehyung turns to you. “Even if we didn’t conceive, it was still fun.”   He smiles while taking his hand. “Yeah? I’m glad.” Taehyung laces his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder as he, too, leans his head on top of yours.   The bus pulls out of the lot and onto the road. Jimin and Hyunjin wave with brilliant grins, and together, you and Taehyung watch the little resort become a particle in the distance.

[Epilogue]   This is terrible. Unexpected and spontaneous.   “I have bad news.” You’re leaning against the door frame of Taehyung’s office and at your tone of voice, your husband looks away from the computer screen with wide eyes.   “Are you divorcing me?”   “No.”   “Did you lose your job?”   “No.”   His entire body deflates in a sigh of relief and he leans back, hands grasping the armrests of his swivel chair. “Thank god because I just bought those new shake weights that were shown on TV.”   “Yea— wait. What?”   Taehyung’s bubbling laughter comes from his chest. “What is it?”   He doesn’t notice the stick in your hand, so you throw it at him. Luckily, Taehyung’s reflexes are still in good shape and he claps his hands together, catching the stick before it hits his head. But then his brows furrow in confusion.   “You’re probably going to need to wash your hands after that. I peed on it.”   He doesn’t answer. Your oblivious husband instead takes a long second to inspect the stick and his pupils dilate. He finally realizes what it is and looks carefully. In the meanwhile, you hitch your breath, feeling unsettled. But then the most enormous smile stretches into his cheeks.    It almost looks like his smile is about to break his face.   “You’re pregnant,” Taehyung murmurs.   “I sure am.”   He looks at you. And then the stick. Then he looks at you again. Taehyung searches your expression in alarm as your words echo back to him. “Why is this bad news? D-did you change your mind? Do you not want kids?”   You shake your head. “No. This is fantastic news. I just wanted an excuse to go to the retreat again.”   He laughs and exhales a long breath. Taehyung scoots his chair over using the heels of his feet and comes to you. He throws his arms around your torso in a secure embrace while his ear is pressed gently to the flat plane of your stomach that’ll soon swell in the coming months. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.”   Taehyung’s brown eyes are lit with mirth and you ease into his hug as your fingers comb through his dark locks. Finally, you’re going to be parents. After waiting and hoping for so long, it was now on the horizon. There’s a sense of fear in you both, but you’re overwhelmed with euphoria and excitement.   “We can always go back for the next kid.”   “I haven’t even had this one yet and you’re already thinking of another.”   “I can’t help it.” Taehyung grins, looking up at you and you lean down to kiss his smile.   You have a feeling this baby’s going to be loved beyond belief.

[laurieteddy]

alone together | laurie laurence

Description: March!reader is upset about life’s rather quick changes, Laurie is there to comfort but also it turns into him proposing (don’t ask me how, it just happened)

Request: anon requested Laurie comforting the reader

Warnings: describes experiencing some anxiety about feeling left behind

Word count: a brief ~3.5k

A/N: this took me 5 rewrites and forever to finish because I ended up self reflecting a lot and just couldn’t get it how I wanted at first.

Requests are open!

“I’ll only be a moment,” you called out to Marmee as you quickly made your way up to the attic.

You had “misplaced” your book and were on a wild search for it. Really, you left it in the attic earlier that day and planned on using it as an excuse to be alone for just a minute longer. No one would’ve minded had you wanted to be alone for a bit but you couldn’t help but feel judged for it.

You didn’t want to make anyone worry about why you wanted so much time alone. There was so much going through your mind lately and you just needed time to think it through, Marmee could tell and so she didn’t press you to talk about it. Your two older sisters, Meg and Jo, also knew you needed time and kept Amy from pressing further, Beth was no trouble.

The book was sat on the old three legged couch, right in plain sight. You picked it up, taking a seat on the couch and looking out the window taking in the evening sun. The attic was a safe and quiet place for your mind to wander.

Life was picking up, or at least the people around you live’s were. Meg was soon to marry, Jo wanted nothing more than to escape to the city, Amy was soon to leave with Aunt March for Europe. Beth was still young, unsure of where exactly she was heading which was completely fine being so young. Even Laurie was leaving for college soon.

You hadn’t a clue what you’d be doing. Life away from the March home didn’t even seem to exist as a possibility. You’d be separated from Marmee, from your sisters, from Hannah and Laurie. Nothing would be quite the same.

But, everyone was growing up. And it was near time for you to be as well, Jo only being a year older than you. Tears seemed to prickle your eyes every time you thought of the occasion of your childhood ending and adult lives beginning.

“Y/n’s right up the stairs, looking for her book.” You heard Marmee’s voice.

You assumed it was Jo she was talking to, as she had left to go to the butcher earlier. You quickly wiped the tears that were forming from your concealed thoughts and stood from the couch. Tucking loose hair behind your ear, you made your way towards the stairs.

“I found it, no need to help Jo.”

“It’s me, actually.” The voice was a bit startling, definitely not Jo’s or anyone that lived in your house.

You froze, waiting to see who would come up. Dark curls peaked from the stairs, allowing your shoulders to relax and you found it was Laurie. He had a smile on his face and parcel in his hand.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he joked at your lack of enthusiasm to see him.

“No, no. Sorry,” you smiled, “I just wasn’t expecting you.”

You hadn’t seen Laurie in a few weeks, he was gone with his grandfather visiting someone. It was great to see him, you were awfully close and could use a good talk with him. You were hiding your thoughts, though, not wanting anyone to see. The problem was, Laurie would notice right away as he always had. You knew each other far too well.

“I got this for you,” he held the package out to you.

You smiled, taking it from his grasp, “Oh, Laurie, thank you.”

You gently untied the dark green ribbon, curious to see what was inside. To your surprise it was a new copy of Pride and Prejudice, a novel you had read time and time again. Laurie knew how much you enjoyed it, noticing how the spine of your copy was wearing.

“Pride and Prejudice,” you smiled softly.

He nodded with a grin, “As a much needed replacement. Pages are practically falling out of your old one.”

You chuckled, picking up the old copy. He was right, it had been through a lot for a book. Well read, pages torn thanks to Amy, and even dropped in the mud before, once again thanks to Amy. Still, you kept it and continued to read it. The mud hadn’t ruined much and what was ruined you had memorized anyway.

“Thank you, again. I don’t know how much longer this one would’ve lasted.” You held up your old book, looking at it with tender eyes.

It was just a simple book but the idea that he remembered how much you loved it was too heart warming.

“Let’s catch up!” He clapped his hands together, “You have to update me on everything I’ve missed.”

“Oh, you were only gone for a few weeks,” your eyes followed him as he took a seat on the couch. “Nothing really happened.”

He let out a little laugh, “You want me to believe that nothing happened in the March family over weeks?”

He was making a point, your family was always up to something. Lately you hadn’t been paying much attention though, doing your best to avoid the reality of things. Everyday consisted of simply going through the motions, doing your best to make it to the next day without crumbling into tears. You couldn’t say that to him though.

“Well, nothing too important. Just the usual. Amy’s tantrums, Jo’s rambling, Meg’s pining, Beth’s music.” You wiped your hands on your legs, sweat forming on them.

Laurie leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He watched you carefully, a soft smile on his lips. He could tell something was off, and you knew he that could.

You hadn’t hugged him when you saw him, which you would do whether it was a day or month since seeing him. You’d typically immediately be going on and on about everything he missed out on. He wouldn’t have even gotten to give you his gift until a good hour into talking, and when you opened it he’d earn another hug from you.

At the moment you seemed shut off, hardly even processing the conversation you were having with Laurie. He knew you had countless thoughts running wild in your mind, you always had. Typically you’d let out all your thoughts and he would very happily listen, but you seemed to be desperate to hide them which was far from normal.

“What’s on your mind?” He decided to be straightforward, it was usually the best way to go with you.

Your breath hitched and you looked to the floor. You wished deeply he hadn’t asked, there was no way you could not answer. You and Laurie told me another everything. If knew something was wrong he would eventually get you to talk about it, it was just how your friendship was. Part of you was relieved that he did ask though, desperately wanting to share with anyone willing to listen.

“Shouldn’t you be going home? It’s nearly time for dinner.” You glanced at him, looking away when you saw his eyes were still on you.

“Marmee invited me over for dinner, we have time to talk.” He gestured to the empty cushion beside him, “That is if you want to?”

Taking the spot next to him was risky, even staying upstairs with him was. You knew you’d spill if you stayed a second more. Maybe that’s why you were taking a step closer. You knew you could talk to him, that he even wanted to listen.

“No,” you shook your head. “I mean—“ you froze in place, “no thank you. Like I said, there isn’t much to catch up on.”

“I get the feeling there is plenty to,” his voice was gentle, even warm in a way.

He knew you’d deny that anything was wrong for the rest of your life, he wasn’t asking you to admit anything though. He just wanted to talk. To help ease your mind of whatever was weighing it down, and he had a good guess of what it was.

“I hear Meg is to marry.” He leaned back again, making the atmosphere more relaxed.

You should be relieved at the change of subject but this was one of the issues in your mind. If you were to open up to anyone about it Laurie would be the perfect person. He was the most wonderful listener and always offered such great advice.

“She is, John Brooke as you know.”

“What do you think of it?” He asked.

You were puzzled, “What do you mean?”

“What do you think of it?” He repeated. “She is your sister, the first to marry and to leave.”

It wasn’t an odd question to ask and it was a conversation you already had with your sisters, though in a different manner. With them it was all excitement, giggling as you all teased Meg of her engagement. This version of the conversation would be filled with less teasing and laughter and more about how you were dreading the idea.

“I will be happy for Meg, so long as she is happy.” Which was the truth, you would be happy for her.

“Hmm,” he smiled weakly. “But would you be happy yourself?”

Your heart swelled and you nearly lost your balance. The question was so unexpected. “What?”

“I only ask because I imagine her going would be a big change,” he explained. “You’re all so close and none of you have ever left before, it must be scary in a way.”

Maybe it was more than a coincidence. You knew Laurie understood you but you forgot how he could practically read your mind at times. To hear him say the words you were thinking for weeks was a huge weight off of your shoulders, a weight you were forgetting was even there as you became numb to it.

“Laurie, I—“ you were wringing your fingers. “It isn’t just about Meg. It’s,” you shook your head, “everyone.”

His brows furrowed and he leaned closer again, doing his best to show you his interest. He knew that Meg leaving would weigh heavy in all of your minds, it would be a tremendous change with her gone. But when you said that it was about everyone he was a bit taken back, unsure of what you meant.

He was more than willing to listen, even hoping you would explain. “Everyone? Is someone else planning to leave soon?”

“Don’t be daft, Laurie.” You let a breath through your nose, “You’re going to college, Jo talks of moving to the city, Amy is going on a trip to Europe. All of that with Beth being so poor in health anymore.”

Laurie relaxed his face, taking in your words carefully. You were getting frantic, but doing your best to stay calm through it. Having not spoken about it to anyone you knew there wasn’t a possibility that you could remain calm, everything was going to leak out at once.

“You were gone for three weeks and look at me,” you gestured to yourself. “I’ve fallen into shambles at the mere thought of you all being gone. All of you mean the world to me and I just,” you paused for a moment as if to gather your thoughts. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without you.”

His mouth opened and closed as he felt apprehensive about what to say. He didn’t want to say anything until he had the perfect words but he knew that would never happen. He was now realizing that the issue was bigger than he had first thought, he had to reanalyze the situation.

“We’ll all be back, y/n.” He rested his hand over yours, which were still fidgety. “Meg may be going to marry but Jo, Amy, and I... that’s all temporary.”

“You don’t know that,” you spoke softly.

You were right, and he knew that you were. His own heart was aching as he saw how much pain you were truly in. You didn’t often open your heart to many people, hiding your feelings away in hopes to protect yourself. Laurie understood this and wanted to do his best to reassure you that you didn’t have to do that. He could tell you were shutting down again as you refused to make eye contact.

“I should help with dinner,” you wiped your eyes and turned to leave.

“Y/n, wait, please,” he stopped you with his hand on your shoulder. “Please, let’s talk?”

“No, it’s alright, Laurie. You wouldn’t want to hear all of this anyway, it’s so silly.”

“I’m scared too,” he blurted.

Confusion was arising again. What was Laurie afraid of? His future seemed so bright, having endless opportunities ahead of him. He didn’t seem thrilled to be going to college but it wasn’t something that he seemed to fear either.

He removed his hand from your shoulder, running it through his own hair. “I’m terrified to leave.”

You slowly turned to face him, seeing a true anxiety in his eyes. You wondered how long he was afraid and said nothing. How long he had gone getting lost in his thoughts, digging himself deeper just as you had been doing. Part of you scolded yourself for not realizing but another part was simply glad you knew now.

“You’re terrified?” You asked.

Laurie nodded, finding himself now unable to make eye contact with you. “I’m not ready to leave you guys, especially not for something I don’t even want to do.”

You were all close for so long but you hadn’t expected Laurie to mind that much. You hoped he had, and you truly knew he had, but you also couldn’t help but second guess yourself.

“Y/n, I...” he began, “I don’t want to leave alone. Meg is leaving with John, Jo dreams for some alone time, Amy is traveling to meet all sorts of new people and I,” he chuckled, thinking to himself how foolish he sounded. “I am leaving to be somewhere I don’t wish to go, surrounded by people I have little desire to meet.”

It was shocking to hear. Laurie has opened up to you before but never about such things. Typically you would hear about how Jo had gotten on his nerves one day, just a typical annoyance everyone experienced. And to hear that he was fearing the same thing you were was dispelling your fears.

“I know what you are going through because I’m going through it too,” he stepped closer. “So please, talk to me so I may understand how you are feeling.”

You couldn’t help but hug him, tears already brimming from your eyes once again. No one had even noticed how severe your pain was, but Laurie, who was previously gone for three weeks, recognized it immediately. To even hear someone say that they saw your pain was so emotionally relieving, it meant you weren’t as enclosed as you felt.

“I’m going to miss Meg’s mothering dearly,” you wept. “And Jo’s endless scribbling and mumbling. Oh, and even Amy’s rants about such small things.”

He hugged you tighter, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Days will never be the same without her telling us of her “dreadful” nose,” he joked.

You laughed, closing your eyes tightly with your cheek to his chest. “And Laurie, how will I ever do without you?” You sniffled, “You are the best friend I’ve ever known. I can’t go without our walks or conversations. Even imagining never hearing your ridiculous impressions you do during stories makes me heartbroken.”

He grinned, a new thought wandering into his mind. He laid a kiss atop your head before slipping out of the hug. His own heart was breaking simply at the thought, just as your’s. The idea of of living without all of these things, and them so abruptly stopping as well, made Laurie quite upset. He didn’t want to leave it all behind, nor was he ready to.

“What if,” he smiled, “we don’t have to let one another go?”

Unsure of what he meant you said nothing, a cue for him to continue.

“Leaving Meg and Jo and Amy is all a horrendous thought, so what if you we at least don’t leave each other?” He could see how confused you were, “Think about it. I don’t want to go to college anyway, you always say you don’t want to be stuck here especially with your sisters gone.”

“Laurie, I—

“I know how foolish it sounds,” he took your hands in his own. “Y/n, I... I can’t stand the thought of living without you. Without your daily hugs, your horrendous yet beautiful singing, your absolutely horrid jokes. I hate to go a week without seeing you, let alone months at a time. I have never let someone know me as well as you, nor have I ever been so infatuated to learn more about a single person everyday.”

It was like hearing your own thoughts being spoken. You could tell his words were true and that these were things Laurie wished he had said long ago. You both seemed to be good at holding back your thoughts until there were so many they all came pouring out.

“Infatuated? Truly?” You asked.

His smile widened, “Completely.”

A blush creeped on your cheeks which you were quick to hide. He let go of one of your hands, gently brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your cheekbone, a twinkle in his eye as he thought more of you.

“I say all this because I love you, y/n. I should’ve said it sooner, I know, and maybe now is not the best time, I’m sorry if that’s the case.” His eyes stayed locked on yours, “I just can’t hold it in any longer.”

Hearing him say those words in that moment was not just craved but needed. You had loved Laurie since the day you met him, he was too sweet to not love at least as a friend from the start. As love does, it grew and developed into something more. Something you believed you could never share with him, until now that is.

To hear him say that he loved you was heartening, it showed you even further that you weren’t alone. He wanted to stay with you, to keep at least some of your normal lives in place. But it wasn’t just about the normality, because if you were to stay together things would definitely take a big turn. It was the idea of being together, of never having to leave one or the other behind.

“To go through life with you would be a dream,” you smiled to him. “But, Laurie, how realistic are dreams?”

“Dreams come true everyday. We could stay together, I’ll get down on one knee and ask you to stay with me. All you have to do is say yes an—

“Laurie,” you cut him off. “Your grandfather expects you to go to college.”

“And I will, but that doesn’t mean we can’t marry after, even before if I wanted.” He ran his hand down your arm, “It’s only four years and I can promise you now that I’ll be returning after, and any chance I get in between. We would still be promised each other.”

It all seemed fake, it was coming from practically nothing and yet it seemed so natural and right. Four years could blow by like nothing, and it would give you the perfect opportunity to prepare for a life you would start with Laurie. You could say your goodbyes to your family, slowly taking time to ease yourself out. It wouldn’t be abrupt, it would spawn from no where. You would expect this change, be ready for it even.

You took Laurie’s hand in your own, “I adore the idea of being promised to you. It would bring comfort to me, too, to know that I would have you to look forward to in my future.”

Excitement filled Laurie, he was trying his best not to jump up and down right then. Instead, he did as he said he would and got down on one knee.

“Well then, y/n l/n... would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You laughed a bit as Laurie put in a bit of drama into his words. You quickly nodded, accepting his proposal and filling with your own excitement.

“I haven’t a ring,” he looked around before grabbing the ribbon off the book he had given you. “For now... wear this around your wrist?”

“Of course,” you offered your hand.

He gently tied the ribbon on your wrist and gave the back of your hand a kiss before standing. Soon enough he was pulling you into another hug, both of your excitement washing over you. It all seemed like it was something that was meant to happen sooner, though you were both so young. There was something about your relationship from the start that stood out much more than a friendship.

[harlequinmoss]

Aaahhh I haven't written anything in a really long time but I wanted to do something for pride month before it was over cutting it real close I know so here's a little coming out story with José and Panchito. It's set in the 40s because I refuse to write any other versions of them

Panchito and José arrived at their hotel around 10pm. It had been a long day for the both of them, each coming in from a long flight overseas that morning in order to visit their pal, Donald. Donald had picked them up from the airport and the group had a fun day doing touristy things, but after dinner the pair had grown noticeably exhausted. Not having enough space in his own home to comfortably house the both of them, Donald offered to put them up in a hotel room for the night rather than having them crash on the sofa in the living room. It took a bit of coercion, neither wanting to be rude, they were guests after all, but in the end they were too tired not to be easily convinced.

"I'll at least call a taxi over there," Panchito had insisted. "That way you aren't out driving so late."

"It's hardly late at all, but fine. I called ahead and made the reservation so you just have to pick up the key when you get there."

Panchito thumbed through his wallet to pay the taxi driver, thanking them as he handed them the money. He got out of the car, went around to the other side, and opened the door for José who was still fumbling around for his hat that he'd misplaced under the seat. 

"There you are!" José started, smiling as he spotted the familiar straw headpiece and put it back in its rightful place upon his noggin. He turned to grab the door handle only to see Panchito waiting for him on the sidewalk instead. 

"Oh! Panchie, what a gentleman…" He beamed, taking Panchito's hand for support as he stepped out of the vehicle. "Muito obrigado."

"You're very welcome." Panchito smiled back, shutting the door with a thunk once José was out of the way. "Mind getting the key while I grab our bags?"

"Certainly…" José nodded. "Meet you inside."

José tipped his hat and disappeared through the building's revolving door and into the lobby. Panchito took a moment to watch him go before remembering what it was he was supposed to be doing. He sighed to himself before making his way over to the trunk and popping it open. Holding his breath, he removed both of their suitcases from the taxi and set them on the sidewalk beside the car. He then shut the trunk a bit hard, too distracted to be mindful of his strength, and waved the driver off.

Feelings like this arose whenever he was alone with José. He did his best to suppress them, to act normal like the rest of his friends, but it wasn't easy. A part of him dreaded what was about to come. Sharing a hotel room, sure it was just for one night, and they'd have separate beds, but that didn't make it any easier. 

"It'll be fine," Panchito told himself. "I just need to take a moment to compose myself and then I'll go inside. We're both tired. We'll probably end up passing out right away and tomorrow we'll reconvene with Donal and everything will be back to normal." 

Panchito took a deep breath. Then another. Then, he grabbed the bags up off the concrete and walked through the revolving door to meet up with José. Perfect timing. José had just gotten out of line for the key and happily waved his friend over as he headed toward the elevator. 

"We're in room 313." José proclaimed with a small laugh as Panchito caught up with him. He pressed the button to the elevator, the one on the left immediately opening with a short ding.

"313? Donal did that on purpose no doubt…" Panchito laughed to himself as they stepped inside, refusing to look directly at José. 

José nodded, not noticing this avoidance, and he relayed the floor number to the elevator operator who shut the door and brought them up. The two stood in silence in the meantime, their eyes half lidded, both too tired to think of anything else to say. Luckily, the ride wasn't long. The pair thanked the operator on the way out, José tipping them with a spare coin he had in his pocket.

As they headed down the hall, José mumbled the number to himself as if to not forget. 313, 313, spoken softly on repeat in his sweet voice. Panchito held his breath and stared intently down at their luggage. Soon, they arrived, and José quickly turned the key in the lock, extending his other arm as he opened the door.

"After you, Panchie…" José smiled, speaking with such a fondness that Panchito could hardly bear it. 

Panchito nodded and started his way in through the door, head down, and José let the arm he had extended wrap around his companion as he followed him inside. Panchito stiffened. Normally, he could shrug off this type of thing, but something was different about tonight. He didn't know why, but every scrap of interaction was much more overwhelming, more amplified. He swallowed and clenched his mouth shut, terrified of what he might say.

"Hm? Are you alright..?" José asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched Panchito move away from his touch in order to set down their luggage. "You've hardly said anything since we left Donal's house…"

"Por supuesto. Sólo estoy cansado…" Panchito sighed. "Just tired…" He repeated again in English. 

"Right..." José started, not entirely convinced but not wanting to press the matter. "Let's get ready for bed then." 

Again, Panchito only nodded in response. José sighed and made his way next to his friend. Each opened their respective suitcase and retrieved a set of clothes to sleep in. José slightly leaned on Panchito as this motion occurred, just a light brushing of their arms together, but it was enough to send shock waves through Panchito's heart. This type of casual intimacy was something José did with everyone, but Panchito couldn't help thinking that José targeted him more often than anyone else. He was right, though José would never admit it. 

"I'll change in the bathroom." Panchito said suddenly, once again moving away from his companion. He quickly disappeared through the bathroom door, leaving José alone and a bit dazed.

José stood silent for a moment, watching the door, a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once. 

"Why is Panchie acting so strange tonight? Is he okay? Is it because of me? He's definitely avoiding me, it's not just my imagination, right? If he finally figured out my true feelings it could be out of anger or contempt. Oh God, what am I going to do?" 

José noticed his heart racing and scrambled to calm himself down before Panchito returned. 

"Okay. It's fine, if he knew, he wouldn't even want to sleep in the same room as me. Just get changed and pretend like everything's normal. We're both tired, it'll all be okay by the morning…" 

José sighed. He threw on a plain yellow t-shirt and took off his pants so he just had his boxer shorts on underneath. As he was putting his discarded clothes away in the suitcase, Panchito emerged from the bathroom in a cowboy themed set of pajamas. Both blushed seeing each other and silently made their ways to their respective beds, turning off the bedside lamps that lit the room in the process.

"...good night, José." Panchito said after almost a full minute of silence. 

"Good night, Panchito." José responded, refraining from using his nickname in fear it'd make matters worse. 

The two lay quietly in the dark, unable to fall asleep despite the day's exhaustion. Both shifted in their beds many times over, transitioning through periods of shut eyes to staring at the ceiling to watching the other while they had their back turned so that there was no risk of being caught. Neither dared speak. Their routine went on for what seemed like the whole night, but probably wasn't more than an hour or two in reality, until…

"José?" Panchito asked in a whisper, trying to field whether or not his companion was awake. 

"Sim?" He responded, pushing himself halfway into a sitting position in order to face his friend. "Do you want to tell me what's been bothering you?"

"I...can't. You'll hate me forever." Panchito choked out, covering his face with his hands.

"What?!" José's heart sank. He sat up the rest of the way and flicked on his lamp so that they could see each other. "Panchito, nothing you do or say could ever make me hate you." 

Panchito looked over at José through the cracks in his fingers. His face was serious, a tonal shift from the care-free facade he usually put on. Panchito sighed and paused for a moment before sitting up as well.

"I'm not so sure…"

"Por favor me diga o que está errado...please…." José pleaded. 

Both sat with lumps in their throat, hoping desperately for something just out of reach, not wanting to break what's already there. Panchito was the first to cry.

"I can't-- every day, every time we hang out together it's all about the girls. 'Oh, look at the pretty señoritas! Let us try and win their affections!' And I have to join in and compete and pretend like that is what I want to do. I do not know how much longer I can take it! I want to be normal, believe me, I wish nothing more, that would make this so much easier but--"

"Panchito..?" José mumbled, tears streaming down both of their faces at this point. 

"But I do not care about the señoritas, not hardly, I never have. I have to pretend. For your sake. And Donal's. The two of you are my very best friends and I do not want to lose either of you but...but...es tan difícil fingir….I can't say it. It's not right, it's not even legal, is it? But how am I supposed to go on like this when the person whose affections I want to be competing for is…"

As he spoke, José made his way over to Panchito's bed without him noticing, sitting next to him for a moment before deciding it'd be better to kneel in order for them to be the same height.

"Panchie…" José sighed and wrapped Panchito in a warm hug. "It's okay…"

"No it's not! How can you say that when--"

"Shh…" José turned Panchito’s head to face him and tenderly cupped his cheeks as he wiped away tears from his eyes. He then placed a soft kiss to the top of his forehead. 

Panchito's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, startling him enough to cause him to stop crying. He looked at José with a dumbfounded expression, José only smiling back at him softly.

"You don't have to pretend anymore. Not with me. How about we trade one secret for another, hm?" 

Panchito nodded, shaking, still processing everything that just happened. 

"Are...are you sure?"

"Of course, don't be silly. I hate the tears, but I'm very happy to hear you feel the same way."

"You mean...you don't care for the señoritas either?"

José laughed. 

"I do. But I also care for the cavalheiros. And I very much care for you…" 

"Oh." Panchito smiled, wrapping his arms around José. The smile didn't last long, however. "What will we tell Donal?"

"Hm. Well, I do not think he would hate us. He does not seem like the type, no? But let's not fret any more about this tonight. We can worry all we want in the morning."

"Okay…" Panchito nodded, taking another moment to process things before laying down and taking José along with him. José let out a small giggle. 

"Panchie! What's all this for?"

"Well, we are going to bed, are we not?"

José blinked, quickly understanding Panchito's request. He shifted, entangling himself comfortably in Panchito's arms, his head resting on his chest. He took a moment to listen to the steady beat of Panchito's heart before speaking. 

"Yes, I suppose we are…"

The pair once again said their good nights, but this time they fell asleep almost instantly. Neither knew what lay ahead for them in the days to come. Would they tell Donald, or would this be a secret just for the two of them? So many uncertainties, but one thing was certain. They had each other. And that was enough.

[honey-dewey]

Dye Day Disasters

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/Reader

Word Count: 2,377

Warnings: None!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Dio dyes his hair black every three weeks, and he does so in his bathroom. He has it all down to a science, so he should have no problem helping you dye your hair a fun color, right? Let’s just hope this afternoon project doesn’t turn into a colorful hair fail. 

“I’m going out!”

You looked up, seeing Dio by the door, stepping into his boots. “Where to?”

Dio shrugged. “Drug store. It’s dye day.”

Almost immediately, you were up and by his side. “I’m coming.”

“You aren’t dressed,” Dio pointed out. “And why?”

“I wanna dye my hair too,” you said. “Wait here, I’ll be ready in ten.”

True to your word, you were ready in ten minutes. Dio rolled his eyes, but put his arm over your shoulders as you two walked down the street to the drug store on the corner. The summer sun was warm on your skin as you walked, and you had no idea how the hell Dio wasn’t dying in his leather coat.

“Alright,” Dio said once you were in front of the dyes in the drug store. “What color do you want?” As he spoke, he reached over you and grabbed a bottle of black dye for himself.

You shrugged, looking over the dyes. “I dunno. Will I need bleach?”

“Probably. I’ve got some at home, but grab another one just in case.”

You grabbed a bottle of bleach and continued to consider your colors. “What about this?” You pointed to a bottle of hair dye that was the color of maraschino cherries called ‘Poison’. “Danger Days red!”

Dio snorted. “Mhm. Okay Gerard. If you want our bathroom to look like a crime scene, go right ahead.”

You laughed, continuing down the line. “Beetlejuice green?”

“Yeah,” Dio said. “It’d look good on you.”

Humming, you kept looking. “I’ve made up my mind,” you announced, grabbing the ‘Iris green’ and the ‘Virgin pink’ dyes. “We can half-and-half it!”

Dio smiled. “You’ll look like a watermelon.”

“And you’ll look like a bottle of ink again when we’re done,” you pointed out, walking happily to the counter.

When you got back to the apartment, Dio popped over your windows while you dragged your office chair into the kitchen. Spinning it eagerly, you lined up the various dyes on the kitchen counter and called Dio in.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked, seeing you emptying the sink.

“Bathroom gets cramped when it’s the both of us,” you reminded him. “Plus, this chair is infinitely better than bending over the sink.” To demonstrate, you sat in the chair and tipped all the way back, fumbling with the lever on the bottom that would lock it in place. “See?”

Dio sighed, looking over the dyes. “Fine. Drag the chair back over here. I’m bleaching your hair first.”

Rolling back towards Dio, you smiled watching him take his jacket off. “Comfy?” He asked, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“Yep!”

Dio popped open the bleach and expertly mixed it in a dye bowl. He set the bowl on the counter and looked at you. “Do you like that shirt?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’ll ruin it,” Dio said. “Put this on.” He handed you an oversized Panic! at the Disco shirt with bleach and dye stains around the collar. You stripped out of your shirt and put Dio’s on, sitting back down and letting Dio put a towel across your shoulders.

“Ready?” Dio asked.

You nodded. “Do it.”

Dio smiled at your enthusiasm and slowly began to section your hair, using a surprising amount of hair clips. You relaxed into the chair, knowing you’d probably be here for a while. Scrolling aimlessly through your phone, you eventually found a playlist you’d made for Dio some time back. It was entirely the small sliver where his taste in music overlapped with yours. As soon as you hit play, Twenty One Pilots began to play, and Dio chuckled from behind you.

“Why don’t you bleach your hair?” You asked as Dio began to brush the bleach onto your hair.

“I’m going from brown to black. I don’t need to bleach it,” Dio said. “If you were going to black, we wouldn’t be bleaching your hair either.”

You had to stop yourself from nodding. “Okay. Why do you dye your hair?”

Dio paused. “You’re just full of questions today, aren’t you?”

“I’m curious, you emo fuck.”

That drew a laugh out of Dio. “Yeah yeah. I dye my hair because I like having black hair,” he said. “I tried vibrant colors years ago, but I liked having black hair the most.”

You thought about it for a minute. “Wait. If today is dye day, does that mean if we shaved your head, it would be completely brown?”

Dio stopped what he was doing and turned the chair around so you were face to face with him, his hands on the armrests trapping you in place. “Do not,” he said slowly. “We are not shaving my head.”

You nodded, eyes wide. “Okay mr. I’m in charge here. Not shaving your head. Got it.”

Satisfied, Dio turned you back around and continued to mess with your hair. You, still somewhat scared, sat very still as he worked, until he was wrapping your head in plastic wrap and pulling the towel from your shoulders. “Alright. Half an hour, but we’ll check it at twenty minutes.” And then he was gone, headed into the bathroom. You followed, regaining some of the confidence Dio had intimidated out of you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, seeing Dio take his shirt off. “I thought we were doing this in the kitchen.”

“We are,” Dio said, opening the bathroom cabinet and rummaging through it. “I’d just rather not get hair everywhere in the kitchen.” He resurfaced with a pair of scissors. “Have you never seen me do this before?”

You shook your head. “You cut your own hair?”

Dio nodded, ruffling his hair and examining himself in the mirror. “Yeah. I could do yours too, if you want.”

“Yeah no, I’ll leave that to the professionals,” you said, sitting on the edge of the bathroom counter and kicking your legs.

“I am a professional.”

You snorted. “Box dyeing and trimming your own hair doesn’t make you a professional, Dio.”

Dio shrugged one shoulder. “My sister, the oldest one, went to cosmetology school. I was her guinea pig. Eventually, I managed to graduate to the rank of her student. She taught me everything I know about all of this.”

“Huh.” You hadn’t even considered that. “Is she the one who visited last month and told you that you look like an oil spill?”

“Yeah, she is.”

You nodded. “I liked her.”

Dio finished his hair quickly, put a shirt back on, and herded you back into the kitchen to check the bleach. “Eh. We’ll wait the extra ten,” he said. “This stuff is powerful, so you’ll only need one round of bleach.”

The extra ten minutes were wasted with food. Dio sat on the counter while you spun lazily in the chair, humming to yourself and eating. When the timer went off, Dio hopped up and turned the sink on while you readjusted the chair.

“The water won’t be warm,” Dio warned you, but you just shrugged, rolling towards the sink.

Despite the warning, you flinched when the cool water hit your head, and Dio sighed. “Told you.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and he returned the favor, giving you a flash of his tongue piercing in the process.

Somehow, you managed to relax into the water after a minute. It probably helped that Dio was slowly massaging your head, turning your body into jelly as he worked shampoo through your hair. When he was done, he wrapped your head in a towel and helped you sit up, looking you over for bleach burns. You had none, so he kissed the back of your neck and grabbed your hair dryer.

“Aren’t we gonna dye your hair?” You asked as he unwrapped the towel on your head.

“Yeah. When I finish yours,” he said, turning the hair dryer on and killing any protests you had.

Dio nearly put you to sleep with the hair dryer. It was warm, and he was running his free hand through your hair, and you were just about to fall asleep when he turned the dryer off and poked your shoulders. “Time to dye,” he said in a sinister voice, and you laughed.

“Dork.”

“Sap,” he said in return, mixing the dyes in two separate bowls. “Now’s the time to say something if you want me to cut your hair.”

You shook your head. “Just the color this time.”

Dio nodded, picking up his hair clips and putting them on the edge of his sleeve. He slowly and methodically sectioned your hair in half, clipping down the left side and leaving the right side loose. He turned away, and you heard the harsh snap of rubber gloves. The towel was around your shoulders once more, and then Dio was painting electric pink dye into your hair. He started near the back, so you couldn’t see a single thing he was doing. But you trusted him, so you let him continue, occasionally turning the chair when he asked so he could have better access to your head.

When the pink was done, the green was next. Dio unclipped the left section of hair, humming along to the unbearably adorable Train song you were playing. “Still sure about the watermelon colors?”

“Still sure,” you confirmed, holding up your phone. “Smile!”

Dio looked up and smiled, knowing this photo wouldn’t ever see the light of day. While he started to work the green into your hair, you made the photo your phone background. It was cute, and while Dio wasn’t known for being cute, you knew him differently than everyone else did.

“Green’s done,” Dio announced after a bit. “Let me just wrap it up and then you can do my hair.”

You were plenty eager to dye Dio’s hair, so you sat still as he wrapped your head up again. When he was done, you and him traded places.

“Just read the instructions carefully,” Dio said as you opened the dye. “It’s not as hard as it sounds.”

Dio was right. The instructions where simple, and you were soon pulling on a pair of gloves and putting a towel over Dio’s shoulders. You poured the black dye into the bowl and picked up the brush. “So what?” You asked, standing behind Dio. “I just paint it on?”

“You’re doing my roots, it’ll be easiest if you brush it on and then go back through with your hands,” Dio explained. “Just do what I did on your head. It’ll be hard to fuck this up.”

Nodding, you picked up the brush and began to apply the dye. It was a lot like painting, which you didn’t suck at. You, at Dio’s recommendation, did his hair in sections, the same way you had seen people straighten their hair. It was easy to gain a rhythm like this, and before you knew it, you were done. Dio took over, wrapping his head in plastic wrap and falling onto the couch. “Alright. Half an hour at the least.”

You two cuddled and watched some conspiracy theory show Dio liked, having to pause the episode about Mothman because your timer went off.

“Alright watermelon head,” Dio said, tipping the chair back and gesturing for you to sit. “Let’s get this done.”

Again, you went boneless as Dio used cold water to rinse your hair. Despite the chill that raced down your spine, his hands were experienced and helped relax you as he worked.

“Y’know,” you said softly while Dio was still working. “You could totally do this for a living. You’re good at it.”

“What, dye hair?” Dio asked.

You shrugged as best you could. “No. You could do what your sister does. For a living instead of just for you and me.”

Dio sighed. “Not my thing,” he said. “I’ll stick to doing your head and my own head, thank you very much.”

That was promptly the end of that conversation, mostly because Dio was helping you upright and turning on the hair dryer again. This time, you didn’t fall asleep, focused instead on Dio standing in front of you. His sternum was at your eye level, and you were half tempted to lift his shirt and kiss his belly. But you didn’t, mostly out of fear he’d fuck your hair up.

When he finished, you stood and he sat, tipping the chair back so you could wash his hair.

“No soap?”

“Nope.”

“Cold water?”

“Yep.”

You nodded, turning the sink on and beginning to rinse Dio’s hair. The water ran black for a while while you used your hands to massage Dio’s head, and when it finally ran clear, you turned the water off and squeezed the excess from Dio’s hair. He sat up while you messed with the dryer, turning it on and slowly beginning to dry Dio’s hair.

It took him some time to realize you’d put an attachment on the hair dryer. “Are you diffusing my hair?”

“Maybe,” you said happily, already seeing the curls Dio did his best to hide. “C’mon!” You said upon seeing the displeasure on his face. “Your curls are so pretty!”

Dio continued to pout while you dried his hair, and when you were done, he stood and stretched, shaking his head. “You did good. Wanna see?”

You nodded, pulling Dio into the bathroom and eagerly looked at yourself in the mirror. Dio looked almost no different, the black a bit more prominent and less faded than usual. But you, you looked like a whole different person. The vibrant green and pink gave you life and made you look unforgettable.

“I love it!” You said, ruffling your hair. “Oh it’s so cool!”

Dio smiled. “I’m glad you like it,” he said.

You sent photos to your friends and family while Dio cleaned up, eventually joining you back on the couch so you could finish your conspiracy theory show.

“Thank you,” you said out of the blue, watching someone who claimed to have definitely seen Mothman.

“Hm?” Dio looked down at you, the hand that was running through your hair stopping. “What?”

“Thank you,” you repeated. “For my hair.”

Dio shrugged. “Just doing my job,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Love you.”

“I love you too, you dork.”

[wizkiddx]

Nothings changed at all

ooh my first lil one  shot on here?!?! not really sure how I feel abt this one but hey ho we move.

summary: 2 years have passed with 2 people living completely separate lives. That’s until Paddy the matchmaker gets involved by not liking exams.

“Y/n?…. Y/n?” Brought out of her ferocious typing, Y/n dragged her attention away from the screen infant of her and looked around the coffee shop to identify the owner of the voice. Sure enough, standing opposite her was an adult and teen who both smiled excitedly at her.

“Nikki! Pads!” Y/n exclaimed while she jumped out of her seat to hug Nikki first, then Paddy. “Wow it’s been ages! You want to join me?”

“Yeh that’d be great!” Nikki smiled already pulling out the free chair opposite, while Paddy stole a chair from a nearby vacant table and pulled it up next to Y/n.

“God you look so grown up since I last saw you!” Nikki grinned, but her eyes held a little surprise making Y/n giggle. It had been at least 2 years since she’d seen the Hollands, and life had changed tremendously for her.

“Yeh well 24 and a qualified doctor now so it’s all happened. But speaking of… what the hell have you done with my fake baby brother Paddy?”

The three spent 40 minutes just catching up with each other, it felt like some weird family reunion. Nikki knew she would be told off by her other sons for ‘consorting with the enemy’ but Nikki really did like and miss her. It was more than clear Paddy did too. Y/n had practically been a part of the Holland family for three years while her and Tom were together, it was fair to say they had all got used to having her around. So when Nikki saw this elegant, grown young woman sat in the coffee shop she couldn’t help but say hi. 

They chatted about everything… well almost everything. There was a large gaping hole in the conversation though, where casual references to Tom would usually lie - but neither felt comfortable broaching that subject with the other. Not yet anyway. Y/n could not believe that paddy was in year 11 and taking his GCSEs, in her head he was still the hyperactive young boy who loved to play spies.

“We only came out today to give this one a break from his revision did we?” Nikki spoke kindly towards her youngest, Y/n raising her eyebrow at the tone.

“Yeh I just proper hate maths and I know I’m going to fail it-“ Paddy sighed, suddenly feeling the need to twist his empty hot choclate mug round and round, clearly nervous just talking about it. He clearly wasn’t especially gifted academically and in a school system where talents for the arts and less ‘mainstream intelligence’ isn’t celebrated - he was just considered a write off.

“We’ve been looking for a tutor for him but… well you know at this point in the year so is everyone.” There was almost a look of resignation in Nikki’s face, quite clear that Paddy had already given up. Y/n knew she had to offer, her history of tutoring meant this would be just like any of her other clients and she knew the curriculum inside out and back to front.

“Well you know… only if you want… but I still do tutoring when I have the time?”Looking cautiously between the other occupants of the little table, she wore a kind smile. It would be weird - yes. Tutoring her ex’s brother. But he didn’t have to know, and the Hollands had always been a second family to her. 

“Mum can she? Please I really need help and-“

“Only if you have time Y/n, sorry I dint mean to guilt you or anything?”

“No no you didn’t! But I would love to, you know Paddy’s always been my favourite Holland!” Nikki laughed at that, nodding her head as she looked deep into Y/n’s eyes. 

“Well then, no harm in trying right?” 

///////////////////////////////

Y/n the tutor was a massive hit. Paddy’s confidence almost instantly sky rocketed, with Y/n’s familiarity with him she knew exactly how to approach different subjects and get the best results. She would come over twice, sometimes three, times a week - but there was never any issue since Tom was away filming with Harry, meanwhile Sam and Dom were sworn to secrecy. The one hour sessions quickly evolved into staying for dinner just so Sam could practice from his cooking course. Then there was a little extra tutoring of english too, then a glass of wine or so. 

Then came the actual exams. A terrifying process not only for Paddy, but everyone else associated with it also. Somehow though, they all made it through alive and without the excuse of tutoring it just became an invite to dinner once a week. Just ‘because’. Nikki and Dom would love to say they only offered because Paddy wanted her there, but truth be told they all enjoyed her company. Especially with two of their sons on the opposite side of the world, it was nice just to have that familiarity again. She would go to the pub every now and again with Dom and Sam and just generally was a part of the families day to day life. 

Then came the night before Paddy’s results.

As expected Y/n had been invited round for a barbecue that evening, with the Hollands and some of Paddys friends families. The whole thing was just a distraction for Paddy who was nervous beyond belief. He really needed to pass to go on to college and chase his dreams of going to university. He couldn’t afford to cock up, even at the tender age of 16.  So fair to say a jovial evening where the word ‘GCSEs’ was banned - it was exactly what the boy needed. Everyone sat in the garden chattering away happily, enjoying the glorious and rare British sunshine. 

Sam popped inside to go to the loo, but on his way was dragged by unfamiliar hands round the corner into a study room. He shrieked in fright, before his eyes widened in recognition.

“Missed us?” Harry smirked as he let go of his twin however he was immediately pounced on by Sam, who had of course missed his twin brother for the half a year he’d been away. Next he turned to Tom, the both of them laughing as he hugged his older brother, Sam having to hide his surprise at his bulkiness. The new role obviously had him working out a hell of a lot.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“We got some time off and mum said Pads is terrified so we thought we’d pop in for moral support.” Harry exclaimed, clearly very proud of themselves for organising it for their littlest brother. 

“ Does anyone know?”

“Um… well you…now” Tom couldn’t hide his mischievous grin, making Sam shake his head at his over excitedness “So what’s going on? Is it a party or something?”

“I’ve just done a barbecue for Paddy friends families… you remember Jack? Another guy called Zak and then two girls too-“

“Ah cool so we will just walk out and surprise him?” Harry asked and Sam was about to encouragingly agree, until something struck him.

“I…um…Tom there’s something you need to know.” His voice was deadly serious and Harry noticed the warning tone; Tom always oblivious didn’t catch on so quick, just scoffed and asked why.

“While you’ve been away…. Paddy had tutoring to help and um well… Y/n-she’s here.” Tom closed his eyes and shook his head, taking a breath and gulping it down before looking intently at Sam.

“She…she what?”

“Mum bumped into her in town and she got Y/n to help Paddy with maths. I don’t know… she’s here for Paddy and well…”

“Mum knows that we aren’t speaking right?” Sam nodded in defeat, taking a small step back from his brother “and she still…she still did this?”

“You were the other side of the country and you know how close Paddy and Y/n were. And by the way she worked it looks as if she might’ve made him pass which would be a miracle in itself! So please can you just be civil?”

“It has been like 2 years Tom” Harry, very unhelpfully, felt the need to input - earning him a glare from both of his brothers. Tom just shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, eyes glued to the floor.

“Yeh…I mean we are adults” His words were stuttered, as if his brain was desperately trying to force out words his heart completely disagreed with. Harry and Sam knew of course, they knew their brother never really had got over his first love. With a sympathetic smile Sam led the way out of the study room.

It was fair to say to Holland’s were ecstatic about the twos return, Paddy’s face had been the most priceless because although he was 16 - he still really was an overexcited little kid. The whole garden energy skipped about twelve levels when they walked in, Paddys friends and families also a little excited to see ‘spiderman’ in real life. Yet Y/n… she was less pleased. Sam had instantly come over to her asking if she was okay. Which she was. Unlike her ex, Y/n had properly got over him and had serious relationships since. She just felt awkward for him, she was in the way of a family reunion, she was the sceptre at the feast. Bless Sam for keeping her company, they sat on the outdoor furniture in the corner and just chatted, while Mr centre-of-attention relished all the love from his family. She knew she should leave, so leaned closer to Sam to barely whisper. “I’m gonna go now”

“Y/n you don’t have to, Pads still wants you here and-“ 

“Sam could you give us a minute?” 

Interrupted by the oh so familiar voice, Y/n smiled nervously at him, before giving Sam a side eye saying it was okay for him to leave. Swapping seats Tom sat down in Sams seat, running  a hand through his hair nervously. 

“Look Tom I was just going to go so you guys can have a proper reunion and-“

“Please stay. Paddy wants you here and tonights about him so?”

“That’s very kind of you but...well you made it clear we couldn’t be friends. I don’t want to intrude and-“

“That was years ago and I was being naive. For paddy please?”

“Tom I….I’m-“ Stopping promptly as she was interrupted.

“staying yes I agree. Now come on he’s looking…” Tom lowered his voice as he motioned over to Paddy standing with Sam, who appeared to be watching the exchange between the two ex lovers intently “so pretend I said something funny, laugh and then we can go mingle”

“Hard to imagine… you have no sense of humour” She smiled sarcastically, before throwing her head back laughing - as if she had said something hilarious. Tom knew he had to join in, however much he tried to hide the grimace at her remark.

“ You haven’t changed at all” He muttered under his breath following her as she stood up and headed back towards the main group.

“Oh but I have” Tossing her head to look back at him, flowing hair flicking round too “I’ve learnt my worth.” Her words were dripping with sass and a little passive-aggressiveness, but all Tom could think was how amazing she was, how much he had missed that little smirk she did while flicking her head back round and pull Paddy in for a side hug. 

////////////////////////

The evening flew by, all of Paddy’s friends and their families went home, yet Y/n stayed and chatted with the Hollands as if this was completely normal. They had all long since migrated into the sitting room while the sun was setting, playing some board games of Paddy’s choice - his results long since forgotten early that evening. Truth be told, Y/n really enjoyed catching up with Harry and although they hadn’t really had any personal conversations- seeing Tom and taking the piss out of his uselessness at the games was also very enjoyable. After her and Paddy’s turn ended Y/n excused herself to go to the toilet but instead of going straight back to the living room she went to grab herself a glass of water.

“Oh Y/n… I was meaning to catch you” The soft and very very familiar voice startled her a little, the warm tone sending shivers down her spine as if a reflex. Turning round to see Tom leant against the counter with a small smile.

“Well what’s up then?” She tried not to be too open too quickly, as much as her heart just wanted to skip the small talk. 

“Just wanted to catch up, it’s been a while and just feel like we should be friends since my family seem to sort of adopted you” She scoffed at his statement, very obviously rolling her eyes, a little annoyed.

“And who was it that didn’t want to be friends huh?” She raised an eyebrow and this was Toms turn to scoff as he looked down at the ground.

“Yeh yeh I deserve that… shall we just skip past the blaming me huh?” The cockiness wasn’t hidden in his voice and that made her laugh, clearly not that shy. In fact he was terrified, but wanted to look as if he didn’t care, like he was flippant. 

“Alright Spiderman, so how’s life?” …

The truth about their break up was quite simple. Tom had got too busy and had stopped making time to their relationship. Y/n grew tired and had had enough, which he completely understood. He’d tried to promise more effort, flying back for extra weekends but they both new they were hollow, it wouldn’t be maintained. Their last meeting hadn’t been an angry shouty one, rather just depressingly sad. They’d both been upset, recahingn a mutual conclusion it was just the wrong time. Which they had both agreed with... but one thing they hadn’t. Tom thought it was like dangling a carrot in front of his face, having Y/n still present in his life. He had given her an ultimatum, they either keep going on together p as a couple or they would become strangers. And that’s where it had been left 2 years ago. 

They spent the next half an hour or so, chatting away as if nothing had ever happened. It felt normal again, all jokingly catching up about the most ridiculous things - the low hum of the left on radio in the background. That was until a certain song  came on the radio - it was ridiculous, the most insane unlikely eventuality to happen. Their old song. 

Of course that would happen. Y/n released a breathy laugh and Tom’s grin just grew and grew across his face, slowly transferring into a smirk. He stood up from leaning across the counter, that Y/n was now sat cross-legged on top. In his ever so dramatic movie like style, he rounded the counter to her side, and held an arm out to her. 

“Dance with me”

“Tom that’s-“

“Oh come on, dance with me!”

“You’re ridiculous”

“I know. So dance with me?”

“Tooommm” She drew out his name in refusal, but her body said something else as she slid off from the counter - delicately landing on tiptoes as she lowered herself down. 

“Just come here, for old times sake” He grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him, transferring his hand to hover at her waist, not touching until she  gave him a small nod in permission. Hesitantly she knew where her hands were supposed to go and slowly drifted them up to round his neck, but balanced  her forearms further on his collarbones so she held her own hands rather than gripping his neck as was natural. They slowly moved in unison, just slightly rocking from one side to another - Tom’s eyes locked on hers.

“So are you happy?” Something about the way he said it made her internally shudder. It was the pure care, all his sarcasm and cockiness stripped back to expose himself just for this moment.

“Um yeh… I don’t know feel like I’m starting to figure out this whole ‘life’ thing.” She smiled up at his chocolate brown eyes, while he seemed to absorb all she said. 

“And he treats you well?”

“He?” She narrowed her eyebrows in confusion, cocking her head to the side slightly.

“Oh er… before you said that ‘we’d moved out’ and I just assumed-“

“Ah um yeh I moved in with someone but he’s not in the picture anymore… got the bed to myself again” Tom thought she didn’t seem very affected by it yet still felt guilty for bringing it up.

“I’m sorry… er how long? Are you okay?”

“Yeh I really am. A year and a half so we taught each other a lot, but it was mutual. We’re still friends.” Smiling, Y/n watched as Tom nodded minutely and they drifted to silence, listening to the song bringing back all sorts of memories. “What about you? Got yourself a super model I assume?” She didn’t mean to ask that. Because why did she need to know? She didn’t care about that. Did she? Tom chuckled nervously before replying.

“Umm no. I haven’t really dated anyone since… just all the travelling and everything doesn’t really work with the dating scene.” His voice was quiet, as if hiding something, and he couldn’t meet her eyes looking at the floor.

“Oh… yeh I get that” Unconsciously letting her hands slip back, connecting with the back of his neck- instantly making him meet eyes with hers again. They just stared at each other, still swaying from side to side as the music flowed. He didn’t want this moment to end. And secretly… neither did she. 

“I can’t take you seriously when you look at me like that”  Breaking the intensity, nervously Y/n giggled, leaning away - but Tom’s arms, still on her waist, kept her from going anywhere. 

“Like what?” His eyebrows raised, enjoying her nervous flush present on her cheeks a little more than he should. 

“Like nothings changed” She all but whispered, the gap between the two almost magically diminishing. The pause was long as Tom tried to  formulate the idea he so wanted to get across. 

“ Maybe that’s because… right now I have exactly the same feelings I did two years ago… that maybe I want so badly to kiss you?” His voice was barely audible at the point, but their faces were barely centimetres from each other; noses hovering side by side as his lips brushed hers. He didn’t want to push her, yet at the same time one of his hands moved to her cheek - gently cupping it as his eyes flicked between her wide eyes and pink flushed lips. 

“Maybe… maybe you should kiss me then?” The tension was palpable as she drew out her words, purposefully teasing him a little. Because she wanted to keep him on his toes. When her heard her suggestion she had to stop herself from giggling at the smile that instantly grew across his face, the way his pupils grew in shock . Safe to say he didn’t reply, instead slowly and delicately pressing his lips on hers. She reciprocated tentatively and deepened the kiss bit by bit. Her hands now running through his hair on the back of his head, Toms other hand now on the small of her back - closing the distance completely, their bodies connected. It didn’t last long before she pulled away the most seductive smile on her face, while Tom subtly tried to regain the breath that had been knocked out of his lungs. 

“We should go back” She whispered, while running her thumb over his left flicky eyebrow that always intrigued her. Suddenly his eyebrows furrowed in concern, worried he had made her feel uncomfortable. Instantly recognising this, she calmed his nerves very simply by pressing a fleeting kiss on his lips once again, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the living room.

As soon as they entered Y/n and Tom both realised how long they’d been in the kitchen. The game long since abandoned, probably waiting on one of their returns at their go, the rest of the Hollands now all sat lounging on different areas of the sofa - who all immediately looked up as they shuffled in. Luckily the lights were dimmed for the movie playing on the TV screen, so that no one would see her blushing cheeks. She sat in the middle of the sofa which only paddy was on, and Tom followed sitting next to her - but not too close that it would be suspicious . No words were exchanged throughout, though Nikki did exchange a knowing look with Dom - who had seemingly finally learnt when to keep his mouth closed. Both Y/n and Tom pretend to fix their full attention on the film for a short while, even if both their brains were whirring away with very very separate thoughts to any critical analysis of the storyline. 

After about 10 minutes though, Tom pulled his leg up, just so it was obscuring the view to the sofa opposite and took the opportunity to clasp Y/n’s hands in his. Slickly, even though she wasn’t expecting the contact Y/n didn’t react her eyes still trained on the TV. However, Tom didn’t miss the small upward tug on her lips as she squeezed his hand back. No one noticed.

Except Paddy. 

Paddy from his vantage point on the sofa he was sharing with the two, peered over subtly as he went to the loo - and a massive smirk appeared across his face. He might just’ve got his sister back.

[yelenasdog]

my girlfriend is a witch (spencer reid x witchy! fem reader)

INSPIRED BY THE SONG “My Girlfriend Is a Witch” BY October Country

genre: fluff w like maybe two seconds of angst

summary: he could feel she was hiding something, but she didn’t mean for him to find out like this.

words: 2.6k 

warnings: i cannot think of any for the life of me other than crying. also, disclaimer at the end of fic.

a/n: pls listen to “my girlfriend is a witch” by october country and “john barleycorn (must die)” by traffic, while u read. i’ve been meaning to get this fic out for ages, so i hope this is good! enjoy lovies!

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

It was hot, humid, and sticky under the Malibu sun.

Rubber soles from both boots and sandals alike, most likely the cheap ones you can buy at any tourist-targeted shops surrounding the vacationer heavy area, stuck to the asphalt streets, leaving a sticky tar in its wake.

SSA Y/n Y/l/n was not a fan, to put it lightly.

Her arm hung limp against her forehead as she leaned back against the black leather seats of the car she resided in, the material burning her bare arms. Literally.

And even if she were to be exaggerating, she still strongly felt that welts would be left where she had placed her limb for far too long.

She long ago had abandoned her blazer in the backseat of her vehicle due to the excruciating heat, the cotton material feeling heavy on her arms, so she turned up the AC with one hand, while slicking back the baby hairs that had managed to fall onto her forehead with the other. It was graced with beads of sickly sweat, not unlike the rest of her body.

Some repetitive song played on the stereo that she couldn’t quite figure out how to operate in the outdated FBI issued vehicle she was using, adding to her annoyance of what seemed to be to no end. 

The unfortunate ride was the result of her normal vehicle being in the shop, and rather than pay for a rental, she took whatever was left in the garage, however horrible it may be.

After sitting in hours of tiresome traffic, enduring the aforementioned reptititive song, and the entire John Barleycorn Must Die album later, (hey, it was in the glovebox, and it beat whatever had been on the radio) she finally had arrived at her destination.

She stepped out of the car, huffing at the sight in front of her. She took her black RayBans off, sliding them into her pocket of her slacks before slamming the silver door. Y/n then winced at the cracking sound that rang out. She walked forward, not wanting to look at the damage she had caused.

“That’s coming out of my paycheck.” She muttered, chewing on her chapped bottom lip, feeling the sting shoot through her nerves.

The door to the PD office she had been approaching swung open by a very frustrated officer. He breezed past her and she leaned back, placing a hand onto the warm concrete of the establishment behind her. She barely was missed by him in all his rage.

Y/l/n squinted her eyes, the rays of light clouding her vision. She began to regret taking her glasses off earlier, but disregarded the thought and continued into brick building.

The first person that she saw when she entered was the local sheriff. He was medium build, bald, and there was a bright grin that covered his face, far too bright for the current atmosphere, in her humble opinion.

“Ah, Agent, It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She reached forward offering a self-manicured hand, still slightly sweaty from the car ride.

“Pleasure’s all mine. So,” she began, walking over to where the rest of the team was examining what seemed to be a yellowed piece of parchment.

“What are we looking at?” She questioned, doing her best to get a look at whatever it was at the center of attention.

Almost like clockwork, or perhaps like a dog who was able to sense their favorite person arriving home, Spencer appeared from the back of the precinct, coffees in hand. 

He passed the one is his right hand to his girlfriend, leaning forward for a kiss on the cheek that Y/n had almost ignored. She rolled her eyes at the needy man, muttering “thank you, Spencer” In a sarcastic tone, placing a quick peck on his cheek. He pouted, and she rolled her eyes once more.

As she walked forward and took a sip of the hot drink, the rest of the BAU parted, allowing her to observe the sheet. After looking at it for a few moments, she spoke up, her words overlapping with Hotch’s.

“We have no idea what it is, Penelope did a search and couldn’t find anything of use, it doesn’t translate to anything-“

“These are runes and glyphs. Horribly written, not by someone who’s an expert in the craft. The corner of the page looks like there’s-“ she paused, leaning forward. Her eyes slimmed, scanning over the page, the necklace around her neck dangled, catching Spencer’s eye.

“Yeah, this looks like a sigil. If you give me some time I could try to work out what it was for.”

She looked up, meeting the confused glancing of everyone, including her boyfriend. Prentiss was the next to speak, albeit very cautiously.

“Alright, well, do you have any ideas about what the other symbols mean?”

“Off of the top of my head?” She turned towards the paper once more, “To reiterate, this person mixed multiple different kinds of glyphs, so it might be difficult to collectively translate them, but so far I’m getting life, death-“

“Very original of them.” Morgan joked, resulting in a smile and the signature eye roll of Y/n.

“Power, fear, balance. That’s the first line.”

“Reid, are you writing that down?” Aaron questioned. Spencer nodded, not even looking up from his clipboard where he was writing the info. “Y/n, continue.”

She bobbed her head once, bringing her attention back to the 2nd line. She was silent for a bit, at one point grabbing around for a sticky note and pen. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she was carefully handed one by a reluctant Spence. 

Everyone watched in amazement, amusement, and a little bit of confusion, as she wrote on the paper, scribbling what looked like nonsense next to some dates. After what seemed like hours (but was really just minutes) she pulled away, looking towards her significant other.

“When were all the victims killed?”

“September 29th, November 6th, November 9th, and that’s it.”

“And how did each of the victims thus far die?”

Hotch cut in, his arms crossed and his glance careful. “How are you certain there will be more killings?”

She ignored him, turning to Reid.

“Reid, how did they die?”

“First victim, stab wound, 2nd victim drowned, 3rd victim-“

“Burned alive?”

As this was the first time she had been made aware of the case (she had been attending to other business back in Quantico and had to fly commercial with no wifi, meaning no access to Penny to catch her up), her knowledge bewildered them greatly.

Seeing their concern spread on their faces, she picked up the photocopy, bringing it to where they were huddled. She stood in the center, pinky pointing and following along with what she was speaking of.

“This symbol here,” she pointed, making sure she held everyone’s attention”, is a rune for “New Moon”.  She then went on to describe how each of the days correspond with the Moon phases, as well as the matching rune and glyphs left on the page.

“I still don’t understand how that explains more killings?” Spencer spoke, his usual high IQ seemingly not working, a problem he had whenever he was around his beloved.

She walked over to him and smiled, shaking her head. She then explained the rest of the runes in detail, how they each had a meaning that applied to the way they were killed, and how there was still one more moon phase left and one more element as well.

The pair was separated once more as Spencer nodded in understanding, his mouth left agape. She admired him for a brief moment, the way his eyes were like large stones of sparkling tiger eye, his lips the color of a rose. 

Interrupting her, Hotch pulled her into a meeting room where Morgan was already waiting. Spencer stared, following her movements.

“Spence? Let’s go work on the geographical profile?” Emily asked, already on her way. He nodded, slanting his eyes briefly through the blinds of the glass. He blinked a few times, feeling like grains of sand had sunk to his waterline. He shook his head like a wet dog, ridding blooming thoughts from his mind, then continuing on from where he stood, doing his best to turn his focus elsewhere completely.

Meanwhile, Hotch was questioning her, Y/n’s knowledge about how the runes and glyphs themselves were written coming in handy for what that meant about the unsub, as well as building a profile. She was surprisingly educated on the subject, which the unit chief had decided to ignore all together, staying focused on the case. 

By the end of the work day, the profile was ready to be delivered, she had figured out the presumably intended use of the sigil, and the geographic profile was nearly finished. 

Satisfied with the day's work, she happily bid her goodbyes and exited the horribly boring meeting room, finding Spencer waiting by the door, coffee still in hand. He looked around the area, his eyes wandering over the portraits that hung on the walls of former officers.

“Spence, you ready?” She quipped, taking the coffee out of his hand and taking a sip. Spencer huffed, taking it back from her and throwing it away, no longer craving the warm beverage once it had touched her lips.

Spencer nodded, wrapping a hand around her waist and starting the long walk to the SUV from the building. They were quiet for most of the miniature journey, listening to the chirps of the cicadas, and the hot summer wind blowing in the branches of the palm trees. Y/n hummed quietly, finding herself in a peaceful state as she walked along with Spencer.

Spencer, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. His mind was running, trying to process the day’s happenings. 

As maybe it was the obsidian that hung around her neck on a sterling silver chain, or perhaps the selenite she kept on her desk and the amethyst she made Penny keep in her batcave, claiming they were “just very pretty!”

It could have been the way she was seemingly always busy on full moons, or even the peculiar deck of “playing cards” that she keeps in her 2nd drawer of her desk, pushed far to the left.

Not to mention the jars of seemingly normal water that he wasn’t allowed to drink from or empty, and the odd combinations of what seemed to be shapes and letters that she had stitched on the inside of Spencer’s satchel (it took quite the convincing, but to her it was seemingly important, so he allowed it reluctantly).

Possibly most convincing of all was the events of the day, her enlightenment on the subjects at hand leaving an uneasiness in the genius’ stomach.

Spencer wasn’t sure how he couldn’t have figured it out sooner.

His girlfriend was a witch.

The realization made him stop suddenly in his tracks, causing her to briefly trip over her own feet. She gave him a conflicted look, concern also present within the glance.

“Spencer? What’s wrong, are you alright?”

He opened his mouth and then shut it again, whatever he had to say not completely ready to be put out in the world. He simply made a line with his lips before continuing on, leaving her where she stood. She cocked her head, confused noises leaving her throat. 

She jogged to catch up with the man, his long legs making him walk awfully fast. Usually, Spencer would slow down so she could walk beside him in harmony, occasionally holding hands. But as of now, she was struggling to stay in pace with him, and she was beginning to feel fairly annoyed.

“Spencer Walter Reid! What is going on!?”

He looked behind his shoulder, only slowing his pace rather than coming to a complete stop. She managed to fall back into step with him, her gaze never leaving his form.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She bit her tongue, then ran it over her front teeth unaware of what he was referring to. “Tell you what, Reid?”

He shook his head, once more allowing his lips to turn into a straight line, slightly puffing up at his cupid's bow. “You know, about being a witch, or whatever.” He was much quieter when saying the second part of the sentence, his voice quite low.

The statement had shocked Y/n to some degree, but she kept walking, still trying to stay in step with the doctor. She wasn’t quite sure how to go about this, if she should lie and tell him he was being silly, if she should come clean about her “hobbies”. She simply didn’t know.

She decided to just not speak until much later. 

It was after the car ride with the rest of the team (which was quite awkward, considering they could tell something was off between the two lovers), and after they both had eaten and showered before getting ready for bed. Y/n was sitting on one twin sized bed, while Spencer was sitting on the other, reading something from his laptop, which was very unlike him.

Y/n on the other hand couldn’t keep her mind off of the question he had asked earlier. I mean, she had an answer, that much was true. But if she wanted to give it to him, she could not bear to decide. She was staring at the cheesy hotel art on the beige wall, heat still radiating in from the open window that was cracked in the first place to combat the lack of AC.

Her gaze never faltered from the painting of the vase of flowers, the colors seemingly muted. She began to speak, slowly, cautiously.

“I didn’t tell you, because I honestly didn’t think you would care. I mean, maybe you would, but I thought that your whole science thing would make you think I was nuts…” She shook her head, looking to the ceiling. She could feel her boyfriend burning holes into the side of her head, staring.

“Although there’s plenty of science to back it up, and even if there wasn’t, science accepts or rejects ideas based on the evidence; it doesn’t-”

“-Prove or disprove them.”

She looked over and met Spencer’s sad hazel eyes, suddenly feeling very, very guilty.

His voice was quiet as a mouse, he was unable to keep eye contact for long, feeling the need to turn away.

“Metaphysics is an interesting form of philosophy that i’ve done a fair amount of research on, and the CIA has done extensive research on astral projection among other things widely considered to be nonsense phenomena, discarded by most otherwise.”

Her heart sunk and sang all at once, an inexplicable emotion rising like the tide, all the way up to her eyes, a tear slipping out and rolling down her cheek.

“If it’s important to you, it’s important to me. I would have listened, Y/n. I still will, if you care to tell me about it.” 

She looked up from the beige comforters of the motel room bed, feeling an almost magnetic pull tugging her towards Spencer. So she stood and he opened his arms, allowing her to find comfort in his embrace.

“I’m sorry Spence.”

“It’s alright, I just want you to know how much you mean to me, Y/n/n. I will respect and handle anything and everything you throw my way, okay? Nothing could change how much I love you.”

She nodded, a muffled “okay” leaving her lips. He chuckled, pulling her closer. They stayed in that position for some time, savouring each other’s warmth. After she collected herself, feeling rejuvenated, she pulled away, a bright grin creeping its way onto her features.

“So,” she smirked, Spencer raised an unruly brow. 

“Where do you wanna start?”

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

kinda hate it ngl. but i hope someone out there enjoyed it. for sure not my best writing and it’s a bit confusing but whatever.

DISCLAIMER: my mother and i both regularly participate in metaphysical practices, such as tarot, oracle, the usage of incense and crystals, sigils, spirit guide communication, etc. as well as several practices drawn from hinduism but regularly (and wrongly) culturally appropriated by the west, (chakras, manifestation) while also identifying with and following the methodist faith. i understand and appreciate the origins of it within hinduism, and this is in no way meant to offend anyone whatsoever and is simply for entertainment purposes. no closed practices should be participated in unless invited or born into said practice, and none have been, nor will be. (:

(also ty to roo for educating me on hinduism and how it’s been morphed and appropriated by the west, mwah ur the best)

 love u, xx hj

[moon-lixie]

Change or stay the same - Han Jisung

word count: 4.791k

song: Punching Bag -Wallice

warnings: none, even though there's a bit of angst if you squint your eyes.

Yellow washed over the white walls of the room, soon enough soaking the bed sheets that draped over his body. The morning was eager to greet him, light poking at his eyelids to speed up the process of waking him.

A groan slipped his rosy lips before he moved to nuzzle his face on the fluffy material of the sky colored pillow. He dreaded mornings the most; one of the hardest tasks of the day was trying to rip himself away from his sheets.

His lids grew heavy after a couple minutes, sleep tugging on his arms begging him to drift away and into oblivion. Humming in satisfaction his mind was about to shut down when a loud ringing noise filled the room, it was Changbin’s special ringtone.

“Shit,” he murmured groggily before stretching his arm enough to reach the nightstand without having to move away from his pillow.

Putting the phone right beside his ear the first thing he heard was an oh so sweet Where the fuck are you, Jisung? It’s eight already. Which was soon followed by a string of profanities leaving his own lips, almost seemingly pushing him to move frantically across his room.

“I’ll be there in ten.” Was the last and first thing he said to his friend before hanging up and throwing his phone to his bed.

There was no time for him to take a shower; it’s not like he was planning to take one but he sometimes liked to pretend that he would. He barely brushed his teeth, changed into the first things that popped out of his closet and groaned at his empty refrigerator before finding himself running through the crowded streets.

He wasn’t particularly stressed despite his palms growing clammy at the idea of having to come up with a good excuse for his tardiness; to a certain degree he loved running like a maniac in that big city that seemed to have too many places for him to discover despite having been living there for years now.

A light giggle escaped his lips as he turned around a corner, now meters away from arriving at his destination. Despite his empty stomach and lack of morning coffee, he seemed to have too much energy to spare.

It felt like nothing could stop him until he couldn’t move his feet anymore, the world stopped before his eyes and breath left his lungs. He swore he had seen a familiar face but it had soon disappeared between the crowd; still, just one glimpse of said person had his heart coming to a stop.

“What are you doing?” Filled Jisung’s ears before he blinked back to reality; it was his friend of similar height, head popping out of the entrance door he should’ve crossed earlier.

Quickly shaking his head as he dismissed the question thrown at him, he entered the building and apologized to the older man throwing a curious glance at him.

The ride on the elevator was filled with silence, allowing his head to be filled with questions and worries that now had nothing to do with the task at hand but rather the person he believed to have seen.

Silence finally dissipated when he entered the studio to face a more or less exasperated Chan, he was sometimes too serious when it came to work but Jisung totally understood, one of them had to have the tiniest bit of seriousness or it could turn to chaos.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

“You overslept, we know. Let’s just get to work.” Changbin interrupted before patting his shoulder reassuringly.

A sheepish smile covered his lips before his fingers reached towards the bag that he was supposed to be wearing, the one that had his laptop in it. There went another fuck because he knew he was forgetting something as he left his apartment but was quick to shrug off the thought.

“It’s okay, you can just log in here.” Chan was quick to say without even having to spare him a glance to know what was the problem. He was grateful to have friends who seemed to balance out his clumsiness perfectly fine.

Taking a chair and moving closer to the desk he grabbed the mouse and started clicking away. Second later the monitor eagerly asked him for the password of his email where he happened to have his lyrics noted down. Yes, he used google docs, so what?

He gulped down at the thought of what he was about to type; his password never seemed to represent a problem until today. It was the name of someone he had last seen years ago, five to be exact. He just never saw the need to change it, not when he could type it with his eyes closed or in his sleep; it had been the same since he was in high school and until today he hadn’t minded that it stayed like that.

“Dude, we need to work so hurry up.” That’s right, he needed to hurry and snap out of it. it wasn’t such a big deal, he just needed to type every letter of your name in the specific order he knew by heart and pretend that it hadn't been you on the street just now.

And so he did, typing it as quickly as any other day, pressing enter and getting access to everything he needed along with a million memories stored as videos and pictures.

He cleared his throat before getting to work, he didn’t have the guts to revive his high school days in front of his friends; perhaps not brave enough to revive them at all despite the place or people around him.

Once the three of them were certain that the sun outside was slowly flooding the city with small orange and pink tinges, they exited the building that guarded their creative mess. Each walking their own way, not before throwing one last threat at the youngest in hopes that tomorrow he’d open his eyes at the right hour. Laughing lightly Jisung nodded and walked away, eager to return home.

His landlord had a white cat with some brown spots that somehow added to its cuteness; just like any other day he pet it before quickly scurrying to the elevator and finally walking past three doors before finding himself in front of his apartment door.

When he found himself inside, the first thing he did was take a shower, one that this time he had actually been intending to take. Later sitting on his bed, towel still tousling his hair in attempts to dry it, his laptop found its way to his lap.

His fingers didn’t hesitate much before clicking on the right places that took him to those videos and pictures that brought him joy every single time. Biting on his bottom lip he finally allowed the towel to rest on his shoulder and pressed play.

The video revealed his freckled friend whose laugh could light up the whole world, he did something silly as usual before Seungmin popped up a little far away. In the middle of a park, they found themselves atop lush grass that welcomed their feet happily as they fooled around.

After some time filming the two boys the camera moved towards some swings where you sat, expression all too dull for the situation that you were in. That was it, the video cut there and the memories would finish at that moment if he didn’t clearly remember what happened next.

He had stopped recording, closing the small screen of the video camera before walking towards you, a worried expression taking hold of his features. Once close enough he sat on the swing next to yours, feet kicking the soil softly.

“I don’t want to leave this place,” you had mumbled by his side, catching him off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you thought about what will happen to us when we go to college. It’s months away and I’m terrified of leaving.” A heavy sigh escaped your lips, pupils moving to catch his gaze.

Next time you opened your mouth, the tone with which you spoke was way quieter as if you were scared of saying such things. “I wish I could stay here forever, with you guys, just being silly and worrying about nothing.”

Reaching his hand to grab yours he ended up intertwining his fingers with yours before sighing and smiling sweetly. “Nothing is going to change, we’ll keep being together. Trust in me, we’ll make it through.”

You had smiled brightly after he spoke, blindly believing in his words that ended up not becoming true. Soon after everyone parted away to college the distance had done its job at making communication difficult, a text a day turned into one every week, quickly it had been one a month and then nothing but each other’s contacts saved on your phones.

Living kilometers away everyone kept moving on with their lives not really knowing much about each other. The only thing that he now was aware of was about his own story, how he had met Chan and Changbin in college and their common interest and ambition had brought them to work together in what they loved.

Quickly closing his laptop and leaving it on his night stand he plopped himself down on his face. Seconds after reaching for his phone and looking for your contact.

His breath hitched once it appeared on his screen, all too familiar but quite foreign by now. He had stopped himself from calling you many times; when he was sober he convinced himself that you wouldn’t want to talk to him after he lied to you that one evening, when drunk he decided that you deserved better than a Jisung that made no sense and slurred all his words.

Nevertheless, he always thought of you like how one thinks about their first love that never happened, because that was the case. Your reckless mixed with your amazing sense of responsibility —that he had always admired— still haunted him at night along with your melodious laugh.

Finally deciding that it was now or never he pressed on your contact and pressed his phone to his ear, dying slowly at every loud beep that separated him from your voice. Without notice the line went silent for a moment before a strange voice spoke a soft hello?, it wasn’t you.

“Is y/n there?”

“No, I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong number.”

He thanked the stranger, trying not to sound utterly disappointed before hanging up and throwing his phone towards his pillow and sighing in defeat. It had never occurred to him that you could’ve changed your number in the past five years but it made sense.

It wasn’t the end of the world, he could later call Felix and ask him for your number —because Jisung was certain he would have it— but that could be left for when he ate something and felt less nervous.

Walking to his kitchen it suddenly popped in his mind, his refrigerator was empty and that meant no food he could simply stuff in his mouth. He cursed for the nth time that day.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go buy something to eat and then get some groceries on the weekend,” he said to no one in particular before getting dressed again and going out to wander around the city until he found a place that sold something edible, that would suffice.

On one particular street where he had to wait for the traffic light to change his heart came to a stop because this time he didn't see you but rather heard your voice calling his name, and upon turning around there you were, just like he remembered.

A hello meant to escape his lips but it got stuck on his throat when you smiled at him warmly; he loved you as much as that eighteen year old him that would do anything for you.

Without thinking much he hugged you tightly; you were quick to return his hug, convincing him that it would be the biggest mistake in the world to pull away soon. People walked past the both of you, some huffing in annoyance as you were in fact obstructing the street but for all that he cared everyone could go and fuck themselves.

When he finally broke away the hug some words came tumbling down of his mouth before he got the chance to think about them, “I was going to grab something to eat, want to come with me?”

The words surely took you by surprise as confusion plastered in your face for a second, but you nevertheless accepted his offer.

“So...what are you doing here?” he asked as both crossed the street, Jisung no longer wandering without a destination.

“I live here.” He threw you a confused look that couldn’t mean anything more than a since when? that seemed to amuse you greatly as you laughed for a second before answering. “I moved not far from here three months ago, for work.”

Nodding lightly he kept walking, silence moving at a fast pace to catch up with your moving figures on the street, but it was futile as you spoke up once again.

“It’s silly but— ”

“It’s not,” he retorted before an unknown force tugged at the corners of his lips with force, refusing to let his smile falter.

“—I had been wondering when we would end up stumbling with each other.”

Those simple words made his heart beat at a faster pace, aggressively thumping against his chest. After all this time you still had his existence present in your mind, not seeming to forget how he always talked about moving here once he was old enough when he was just a child.

“Well, I’m glad that we finally did.” A coward, that’s how he should call himself from now on as the words refused to slip past his lips. He should tell you that he had tried to call you, that he had also been wanting to see you, but he couldn’t.

Jisung had decided to bring you to a small dinner that was not only cheap but delicious; he smiled way too widely once you asked for the same you used to have and you questioned him with your eyes when he asked for coffee, he used to not be able to stand the bitter taste.

Hours passed as you both caught up with each other, apparently you still spoke often with Felix —which he already suspected all along— and had only recently decided to move out from the apartment you still shared with your college roommates, ending up in that lovely city by chance.

His eyes scanned every single centimetre of yours, the small dimple that formed on your right cheek everytime you chewed, the way your faint and discreet lip gloss had turned into a more lively lip tint, the ever so faint eye bags under your eyes that seemed to distinguish people your age.

“God, then Felix fell to that fountain, right?”

He snickered loudly before nodding in affirmation. “He had to walk all the way home completely soaked. He wouldn't stop complaining.”

The laugh that escaped your throat seemed almost nostalgic; it had been quite a while.

When you both crossed the door on your way out the only light covering the streets were those of the streetlights and some cars stuck in traffic. He offered to walk you back home and you immediately nodded in approval of his proposition.

In the blink of an eye he had turned to the high school Jisung that would walk slightly behind you, secretly wanting to reach out for your hand and intertwined his fingers without you, but not even now did he have the courage.

The walk seemed to be awfully short, perhaps because he didn’t want to leave you yet. You got your keys out and stood in front of your door but still facing him as if waiting for something.

“You changed your number.” Was the first thing he could think of saying to what you sighed awkwardly and answered him a quick I did.

“I would love to get something to eat with you again or just talk for a while. So I was wondering if I could have your number.” His eyes closed mid sentence, feeling embarrassed about his sound lack of ability to say something that wasn’t awkward.

Thankfully you seemed to want to spare him some suffering, quickly asking for his phone so you could add your contact, sneakingly adding a cheesy heart after your name. And when you were about to close the door you turned around and asked one last thing, “How did you know? You know, that I changed my number.”

He didn’t like the implications of that question, almost as if you were implying that it would be impossible to know if he hadn't tried to contact you, which you seemed to believe he hadn’t tried to do so all this time.

“I called you and someone else answered.” You nodded softly at his words, a feeling that he couldn’t quite comprehend pooling in your eyes before closing the door.

Yes, he should’ve called you sooner, should have texted Felix asking for your new number a million years before but he never thought of it despite always thinking of you. He had gotten so caught up with every present day that he had forgotten what he was leaving behind; but now you were part of his present and he was determined to keep you there.

It didn’t feel like he was on a cloud as he made his way back home, it rather felt somewhat heavy as he thought back on the last look in your eyes. If he could then he would run back to your door and wouldn’t leave until a smile hung on your lips, but he was scared of overstepping his boundaries.

His bed felt less comfortable than usual but that was usual on the navy nights that lyrics haunted his mind. And so he found himself on his usual spot on the floor of his room, guitar lazily placed on his lap, laptop sitting on the floor making him have to slouch himself to properly type down what he wanted.

At one point he fell asleep, not caring about the hard wooden floor under his back or the cold air nipping at his skin. Until he moved, guitar complaining about the position it had been placed at. His eyes snapped open and he quickly reached his hands around the floor until they found his phone.

One long yawn and then his eyes were being met with an almost perfect 05:59 that quickly turned to 06:00. He still had a solid hour and a half of sleep but he still found his feet colliding with the pavement of the street, later reaching a coffee shop near the studio.

He exited the place with the ring of a bell and an iced americano seeping cold into the warm skin of his hand. A pleased smile grazed his lips upon the first sip, he was now more ready than ever to start his day.

Not long after his friends were exaggeratedly gasping in surprise behind his back upon reaching the studio and finding the younger there. He clicked away shamelessly, never daring to feel embarrassed in front of them, not when it came to music and his sometimes peculiar lyrics.

“A love song?” Chan snorted while peeking over his shoulder, only causing a light blush to spread across his cheeks. He only shrugged it off before continuing his work.

Hours passed and as the sun reached its peak his fingers found their way to his phone screen, clicking on your contact and quickly typing a short message before he started overthinking his way to never speaking to you again. Only then noticing the heart that you had placed beside your name; it made his heart do a flip

He typed a quick and simple question, asking if you were free at seven; soon after you replied with a lovely yes that made him giddy. His expression must have radically changed because Changbin felt free to question him and try to take a peek of his screen.

“Hyung!” Jisung said annoyed while scooting away a couple of centimetres, his friend just giggled in content and left him alone.

Taking into account that his apartment was a mess he quickly convinced you to hang out at yours to what you even ended up offering to make dinner for both of you with a sweet If you get the ingredients then I’ll be happy to cook.

So as soon as he had the chance he shouted farewell to his friends as he hurried to his apartment to get ready and buy the things you had asked him too, feeling all too happy and young. It’s not like he was old but everytime he thought about you now he felt like a child, back at 15 or even worse, younger, not knowing what to do except stare at your messages with complete infatuation.

His knuckles hesitated before colliding with your beige door twice, quickly and with enough force to make his presence known to you who opened with a tender smile barely reaching your eyes.

When he entered he couldn’t help but allow his eyes to linger around every small detail that the place held. The grey cushion went delightfully well with the subtle tones of yellow and cerulean, those matching with some accents you had added on the walls.

Only then he noticed that just as your number changed you could’ve too, he knew all about the you who had survived school by his side but almost nothing about the person who lived on that tidy apartment that smelt faintly of vanilla.

He turned around to find the image of you moving freely in the kitchen way too endearing to look away. Your hands got everything he had brought out of the bag and your back greeted him with a sense of familiarity he could get used to.

A second later you turned around, a playful smile crinkling the corners of your eyes. “Are you going to help me or are you just going to stand there?”

Jisung chuckled before throwing a small apology to the air, walking to your side and not forgetting to push his hips to meet yours. Grabbing some vegetables he moved to the sink to wash them, that was one of his specialties in the kitchen.

You hummed along at a non existent song while he dried his hand on the kitchen towel, watching you cook without major effort. Out of nowhere your eyes travelled to his, making him freeze on his spot for a second.

“I missed you,” you said with ease, showing him that those words weren’t as hard to pronounce as he had been thinking since he hugged you on the street.

He was about to answer, finally allowing himself to take the proper time to express how happy he felt about your presence when you turned around and walked a couple steps towards him, gaze saddening ever so slightly. “Why didn’t you call me in all this time?”

“Well...” He sighed loudly, contemplating the option with which he could respond. I was scared? Well sure, he was but that wasn’t really the reason. I forgot? More like it but it definitely sounded rude enough to gain the wrong reaction from you. I love you? No, that wasn’t the answer to this question in particular, but it sure was an answer he would have to say at one point.

At the silence that installed in the kitchen you sighed before speaking. “When we first started getting distanced I was really discouraged, but every single time I feared we wouldn’t talk again I remembered something you told me once. God, maybe you don’t even remember.” Jisung’s gaze softened once again, of course he knew, how could he forget how he lied to you. “You said ‘Trust in me, we’ll make it through’, even now it brings me such peace to think back at the certainty with which you said that.”

You walked towards the couch, sitting and patting the cushion beside yours to urge him to do the same.

“Those words healed me during the hardships that I went through, they gave me hope that no matter how much time passed we still remained the same, all of us.” You sighed loudly and looked at the floor. “But still, I couldn’t help wondering why? Were you too busy? Not interested enough? Had you forgotten about me? And at some point I blamed you until I realized that I could’ve texted you too, or perhaps called you. But I was so caught up in being scared that I never made a move, and without realizing the years had passed by.”

After a short pause you moved your eyes to meet his again, filled with melancholy. “So, I didn't call you because I was too much of a coward and I accept it.” Jisung chuckled lightly, earning a small laugh from you as well. “So why didn’t you?”

He sighed once again before leaning back on the couch, to which you followed seconds later, resting your head on the back of the couch while looking at him with an intense gaze.

“Did you know that your name was my email password when we were in high school?” he began; you immediately shook your head to deny knowing. “It still is. I hadn’t seen you in five years and still your name keeps being my password. I typed it every time I got a new phone, when I forgot my laptop and had to log in elsewhere, all the time, your name.”

He stole a glance at your face and smiled widely before looking at the ceiling, white and with the smallest crack on one corner of the room. “There wasn’t a second that I didn’t think of you and not a moment in which I didn’t have the intention of calling you.

There were times in which I was way too caught up in my life and what I had in front of my eyes but that wasn’t enough excuse. Just like you said, one day I realized that it had been too long and I felt too guilty to do it. I had promised you we wouldn’t drift away and then there I was, months of not exchanging a single word with you and an incredible amount of guilt tying my hands to my back.”

“I lied to you and then convinced myself that I had no right to face you after,” Jisung finally said, embarrassment creeping up to his cheeks at how his statement sounded out loud.

“But you didn’t lie to me, at least not entirely,” you quickly retorted, earning a quick snort from him.

“Well damn, thank you so much. Now I feel way better.”

Rolling your eyes and hitting his arm lightly, you continued, “You said we would make it through and here we are; being away from each other wasn’t the end of the world. We, well, I was too childish back then to think that our relationship changing a little would be the end of the world.

We were kilometres apart, of course our relationships would change but in the end it didn’t change that much. I mean, look at us. You just revealed an embarrassing secret that will cost you your email.”

He threw you a warning look before you giggled. “After all this time we can still talk freely, it’s just a matter of catching up where we left off and going back to our old rhythm.”

A matter of catching up and going back to our old rhythm. The first part had put his calm at ease, the second one not so much. He didn’t want to go back exactly to what you had; you had just said it yourself relationships change and he wanted this one to do so as well.

He reached his hand to grab yours, finally intertwining his fingers freely with yours after years of hesitation. Throwing you one last look he just muttered, “Or change.”

“Or change...” you repeated after him, adding with mischief something else, “like your password should if you don’t want me lurking around your email.”

“God, you have such a way of ruining things" You snorted and he sighed in defeat. You were still a dork and that would never change, like his password; remaining the same that he loved.

[wheresmynaya]

Hate to Date Ch.5 | Brittana

A/N - Big shoutout to those who donated a coffee to me through ko-fi last week! It was a really nice treat that helped me stay somewhat sane during this lockdown (which hopefully only last a few more days). 

Anyway, a longer chapter this week thanks to all the free time I have lol. Enjoy! 💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

When Santana awakes the next morning, it’s to the sound of distant laughter. It takes her a second to decided whether or not she’s actually awake, because that laughter? She’s pretty sure she knows who it belongs too and if that’s the case: What the fuck?          

The last thing she’d expect is for Brittany to go rogue, but as she pushes herself to sit up she notices that the blanket Brittany stole from her last night has made its way back onto the bed.

Her pillow too!

In fact, with a glance around no one would be able to tell that they slept separately last night.

Santana hates to say it, but she’s just a little impressed.

When she finally makes her way downstairs, Santana finds that the record player has been broken out and the sounds of Donna Summer fills the air. As Santana gets closer to the source, she finds Brittany and Maribel standing around the kitchen counter dressed in aprons.

They don’t notice Santana at first, too busy concentrating on whatever pastries they’re working on. Brittany has her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun while Maribel wears her reading glasses, and together they knead small mounds of dough with their hands as they chat.

Santana watches with curious interest; she’s never seen her mom cook with anyone else Santana’s brought home. Usually her guests are a little hesitant to leave her side let alone abandon her altogether in favor of hanging out with her mom.

Suddenly her eavesdropping is interrupted by a swift poke to her ribs.

“Jesus!” Santana shrieks which instantly earns her another poke and a scowl. She rubs at her side as Abuela brushes past her. “You trying to give someone a heart attack?”

Upon Santana’s interruption, Maribel and Brittany look up to find her standing in the doorway. It only takes a moment before the blonde is slipping into her role of girlfriend again and making her way over while Abuela joins Maribel.

“Mornin’, Sleepyhead!” Brittany greets happily before a quick kiss is pressed to Santana’s cheek. “I thought you weren’t getting up until noon.”

“We’re not far from it,” Maribel notes with a nod to the clock.

Santana smiles apologetically as all eyes are on her, “Sorry. It must be the jetlag.”

Brittany chuckles, “There isn’t a time difference though.”

Santana doesn’t answer, just follows Brittany over to the counter where Abuela stands eyeing their handywork. She makes a few pinches to the dough here and another adjustment there, always ever so critical of the cooking being done.

“What’s going on here?” Santana asks.

“Just getting ready for tonight,” Maribel replies. “Lots to do, but Brittany offered to help us.”

“Oh really?” Santana glances to Brittany.

The blonde just shrugs, “I’m an early riser. I figured I’d make myself useful.”

“Unlike Santana,” Maribel smirks.

Brittany chuckles, “Yeah. It’s a struggle to get that one out of bed.”

While the pair laugh together, Santana wishes she could roll her eyes. After how they ended the night before, she wasn’t sure if Brittany was going to stay on top of her game but it seems like she’s more determined that ever. Santana didn’t think it would be at her expense though.

“Well that was nice of you to help out,” Santana compliments in favor of being snarky.  

Brittany shrugs, “I just hope that mine don’t stick out like sore thumbs compared to Maribel’s.”

Santana glances to the counter and nods, “I’m sure they’ll turn out great.”

“They will,” Maribel assures. “You know Abuela watches everything that comes out of this kitchen like a hawk.”

There’s a small smile on Abuela’s lips before she goes back to stirring a pot of something on the stove. Santana notes the silence and wonders if Abuela has still yet to say a word to Brittany, but there’s no time to ask as Maribel tosses her an apron.

“You know the drill, Santana. If you’re going to be in here you better start working,” Maribel instructs with a sudden sternness.

“Mami,” Santana pouts. “Can’t I at least have a coffee first? I just woke up…”

Maribel tuts, “You and your father are so similar. Always needing coffee before doing anything. Why couldn’t you have taken after me instead?”

“Yes, an age old question,” Santana sighs as she looks to Brittany. “Have you eaten or did they just put you straight to work?”

Maribel cuts Santana with a glare while Brittany only chuckles to lighten to mood.

“I ate but I could go for a coffee.”  

“Awesome,” Santana then tosses the apron aside and takes Brittany by the hand. “I’m stealing her and your car now. Be back later!”

Santana assumed Brittany would’ve willingly followed, but surprisingly Brittany looks back at her work with a look of hesitance. Would she really rather stay behind? Santana figured she’d be dying to break away for a little while, but apparently not?  

“Will that be okay?” Brittany ends up asking. “I can continue helping when we come back?”

Santana’s eyes widen. What is she doing? Gunning for the perfect daughter award now too?

Maribel and Abuela share an unreadable look before nodding to Brittany.

“That’s okay, Brittany,” Maribel replies. “There’s more than enough left to be done.”

“Awesome,” Brittany bounces a little on her toes before leaving the kitchen.

Santana turns to follow after her when Maribel calls out to her. The sound of her being beckoned in that tone already has the hairs on the back of Santana’s neck standing on end.

“Yes?”

“You could learn a thing or two from her,” Maribel scolds. “When’s the last time you’ve offered to help around here before running off?”

Santana doesn’t have a response, just nods before she follows Brittany outside.

\\

Once they’re in the car, Santana feels like a weight has been lifted. Even behind closed doors, they still have to maintain the act because walls are thin and you never know who might be walking by. However, being trapped alone together in the car is like the first real break since they got off the plane.

Despite the break though, the silence between them is heavy.

Santana’s gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it with her eyes focused hard on the road while Brittany only stares out the window. The tension reminds Santana of last night and once again, the annoyance is back in full force.

They’re only in the car for five more minutes before Brittany speaks.

“Have I done something wrong?” She asks.

Santana blinks, breaking her staring contest with the road in favor of glancing to Brittany. The blonde has her brows furrowed and there’s a look of confusion on her face. It makes Santana feel ridiculous for being annoyed in the first place which annoys her even more.

“I don’t know,” Santana grumbles.

She can still feel Brittany’s eyes on her, burning holes into the side of her face but she can’t look at her anymore. Looking at her makes Santana feel irrational and she hates it because she doesn’t understand why that is.

“Is this about what Maribel said before?”

Santana clenches her jaw, but doesn’t answer. She didn’t think Brittany heard her, but apparently she did. Knowing that only makes Santana feel worse, but Brittany frowns and tries again.

“Is this about last night?”

“I said I don’t know,” Santana suddenly snaps.

Brittany purses her lips in thought as they fall even deeper into awkward tension. In reality, Santana really doesn’t know what she feels. She was never great at navigating her feelings let alone talking about them so Brittany’s badgering just puts her on edge.

“Well figure it out,” Brittany finally replies after a long pause. “I’m laying down some pretty solid ground work and I don’t want you messing it up with a mood swing or whatever is going on with you.”

Santana laughs bitterly, “Oh, that’s right! I forgot you’re apparently the World’s Greatest Girlfriend who can do no wrong.”

“What?” Brittany frowns. “Where is this coming from?”

Santana grits her teeth, “I have to deal with everyone thinking you’re so perfect on campus and now I have to deal with in here.”

“Isn’t that why you asked me to do this?” Brittany argues. “I don’t know why you’re suddenly giving me shit.”

Santana shakes her head, “Because I don’t understand why you always have to go above and beyond! You just kiss everyone’s ass and it’s so annoying!”

“You literally asked me to play this role, Santana. You asked me to be here,” Brittany replies. “You wanted this to be convincing so that’s what I’m doing.”

“Yeah well, you don’t have to make me look like shit in the process.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Santana doesn’t answer, just focuses on the road.

“Here’s a thought, maybe you wouldn’t look so shit if you gave just an ounce of effort,” Brittany tells her. There’s a firmness to her tone that makes something within Santana rattle. “So what if I’m trying to bond with your family? You told me that’s what needed to be done! Don’t get mad at me because I’m actually trying. You want different results? Put in the work.”

“Okay fine, whatever,” Santana huffs as she pulls into the Starbucks drive-thru.

Brittany huffs to and crosses her arms. She’s a little red in the face – surely Santana’s doing – and it seems so out of place on the blonde. Santana’s been able to wind her up in the past, but she’s never seen Brittany look this visibly pissed. At least that’s one thing Santana doesn’t have a problem doing.

But the longer they sit in silence, Santana begins to reflect on her words.

It really wasn’t her best work, but she’s been known to struggle with shutting the hell up. Once she’s on a roll, it’s like she can’t back down. Whether she’s right or wrong, she’s got to have the last word.

Even now, she knows she was out of line coming at Brittany after she’s been nothing but great but there’s this little voice in her head – let’s call her Snixx – and Snixx likes to stir the pot. Snixx likes to encourage the anger and frustration inside Santana and Snixx doesn’t care how it effects anyone.

\\

As they get closer to order, the guilt really starts to set in next.

That coupled with the heavy silence has Santana feeling like such an ass. Of course she can’t admit that she was an ass because like…pride but they can’t go back to the house with this weighing on them either.

There has to be something she can do, something she can say to ease the tension? Something that can break the ice?

“Did you want anything?” Santana asks in a meek voice.

Brittany’s a little hesitant to answer and at first Santana thinks she might be getting the silent treatment now, but then there’s a quiet sigh.

“Is this your way of saying you’re sorry for being a jerk?”

Santana rolls her eyes although she feels a blush setting in. Brittany looks at her like she’s completely transparent and it makes Santana want to run and hide. It’s like Brittany knows that Santana knows she messed up, so why be a dick about it?

Karma, Santana guesses.

“Do you want a drink or not?” Santana asks but her tone lacks the usual sass.

Brittany seems to notice, but she stares back challengingly anyway.

“Peppermint Mocha,” She finally answers.

“Okay.”

“With whipped cream.”

“Okay.”

“And peppermint sprinkles, not the chocolate shavings.”

Santana sighs, “Okay. Anything else?”

“And maybe one of those cake pop things.”

Santana can tell Brittany’s just messing with her now. If this is her way of apologizing then it’s only fair that Brittany orders whatever she wants.

“Is that all?” Santana asks.

Brittany ponders for a moment before nodding, “That’s all.”

“Okay,” Santana answers and goes on to relay their order to the cashier.

\\

Once they’ve got their drinks and snacks, Santana parks the car in a spot that overlooks the busy road. They mostly sit in silence; Santana nibbles on her panini while Brittany sips on her drink. The radio is on so there’s at least something to fill the void, but Santana doesn’t really find much joy in repetitive Christmas music.

As she changes the station, Brittany frowns.

“I was listening to that,” She says as she changes it back.

Santana matches her expression, “You like this?”

“It’s nice.”

“It’s depressing.”

Brittany gives her a look, “How?”

“Bells will be ringin' the sad, sad news,” Santana belts out suddenly.

Brittany starts to smile, “Okay of all the Christmas songs –“

Santana sings over her, “Oh, what a Christmas to have the blues.”

“I don’t think this is the best representation of – “

“My baby's gone. I have no friends. To wish me greetings once again!”  

This time Brittany doesn’t interject; she can’t because Santana’s singing overpowers her. There’s a little smug grin beginning to form on Santana’s face as she finishes on the last note though.

“See?” She says in a normal voice. “Depressing as hell.”

Brittany chuckles, “Okay. That one was depressing, but can we talk about the elf in the room?”

“That I’ve got a killer voice?”

“Not that,” Brittany waves her off.

“Uh rude.”

“I mean, it’s alright,” Brittany smirks, “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you knew the lyrics to that song by heart?”

Santana rolls her eyes, “My dad travelled for work a lot when I was younger. He was almost never home for Christmas so take a lucky guess which two songs my mom constantly had on repeat.”

“Rough,” Brittany replies.

“Yeah,” Santana nods. “The holidays are overrated.”

“Okay Scrooge,” Brittany jokes.

“It’s true! It’s just party after party and everyone’s suddenly all about joy and world peace or whatever. Don’t even get me started on the headache that is Christmas shopping. It’s all a nightmare because the Lopez clan is huge and they all need gifts.”

While Santana rambles Brittany only stares down at her coffee in thought, her finger tracing the lid in slow circles.

“But hanging out with your family,” Brittany mentions. “Having them all in one place every year, that’s kind of nice?”

“Is it?”

“I don’t remember the last time mine were together like that. I’m not really that close with my family.”

“Lucky you,” Santana jokes.

“Yeah,” Brittany says quietly which causes Santana’s smile to drop.

She remembers how she spent this year’s Christmas – alone at home with a bottle of wine and Netflix – and how much of a welcomed break it was from the usual festivities. Santana loved the alone time, but Brittany? She remembers her saying she’d still be on campus and it makes her wonder how she spent the day too or more importantly, why she didn’t return home like everyone else?

Santana doesn’t ask though, unsure if that’s a line she’s willing to cross.

“Well, you’ll get your fix tonight,” Santana tries joking again. “Like I said, the Lopez clan is huge. They’ll be changing your tune, just give them an hour.”

Brittany smiles but it isn’t as bright as it usually is.

\\

Once they get back to Maribel’s, Brittany joins Maribel and Abuela in cooking once again. Santana’s a little reluctant but she tags along too, remembering what Brittany said before about effort and Maribel’s final words about learning something from the girl.

Santana already has to deal with Brittany always one-upping her on campus – she doesn’t need it at home too. So although there are other things she’d much rather be doing, she sits alongside the three of them. They talk about Santana and Brittany’s studies, the assignment they’re working on together while throwing in little details about how their relationship progressed.

“Don’t you all need to get ready?” Eddie interrupts the chatter with a confused look on his face.

Neither of them realize it, but they’ve ended up spending the entire afternoon chatting. It’s not something Santana usually does, but it surprisingly wasn’t all that painful since conversation didn’t solely consist of dissecting her love life. Maybe having a fake girlfriend by her side is something she should’ve done a long time ago?

“Oh! You’re right. We better get ready,” Maribel mentions once she sees the time. “Everyone should be arriving within the next hour or so.”

“As if anyone shows up on time,” Santana jokes.

Maribel gives her a look before turning to Eddie, “Do you mind bringing out the extra chairs?”

“Already done,” He grins. “I can finish up here. You all go.”

Santana doesn’t have to be told twice before she and Brittany head upstairs.

\\

Similar to last night, Santana and Brittany move quietly around each other like a well-rehearsed dance. Brittany parks herself in front of Santana’s bedroom mirror with her makeup bag while Santana heads to the bathroom to get changed into something a little more formal.

Once Santana finishes up awhile later, she rejoins Brittany in her room where she finds her lounging on the bed scrolling through her phone.

“Finally,” Brittany comments while Santana closes the door behind her.

“Perfection takes time,” Santana quips. “I see you packed a New Year’s Eve sweater. Didn’t know those were a thing.”

Brittany snorts as she prepares to dish out a comeback, but Santana’s surprised that it never comes. Instead, the annoyance shifts as Brittany looks at her for the first time.

“Oh, you’re dressed so...”

Santana frowns at the possible implications before checking herself out in the stand up mirror. It’s her usual attire for these kind of events – long sleeves to counter the short hem that someone’s bound to scold her about, knit for the cold because it’s ballsy to have her legs on display in this temperature, and deep red because she looks best in that color.  

When Santana turns back to Brittany to ask what the problem is, the blonde is tugging at her sweater and glancing at her skirt.

“Should I change?” Brittany asks shyly. “I feel kind of underdressed compared to you.”

Santana softens upon hearing the unexpected tone. It’s not like Brittany’s showing up in ripped jeans and a hoodie, so Santana’s not sure where the concern is coming from.

“No you’re fine,” Santana ends up assuring her with a shake of her head, “I like your boots.”

“Oh,” Brittany sticks out her boot to show it off a little more. “I have them in black too, they were on sale.”

“Love me a good deal,” Santana jokes.

“Me too.”

Brittany then goes to stand, eyeing Santana’s dress before looking down at her sweater again.

“You sure this is okay though?” Brittany asks. “I don’t want your entire family thinking I don’t clean up well.”

Santana sighs, “As much as I’d love to lie to you so that I can listen to everyone bag on your fashion choices, that wouldn’t really benefit me. When you look good, I look good.”

Brittany’s brows furrow with confusion, “You’re not really good at giving fashion advice.”

Santana rolls her eyes, “I’m not used to someone asking, that’s why.”

Brittany frowns and it has Santana softening again.

“You look good,” Santana tells her. “I’m sure someone’s going to think you look very cute in your sweater. It’s bound to get loads of compliments tonight.”

Brittany mulls over Santana’s words for a moment before nodding.

“Was that better?”

Brittany nods again, “Yup.”

“Okay great,” Santana looks back at herself in the mirror and tussles her hair. “Are you ready to get down there now?”

Brittany sucks in a deep breath, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

\\

As soon as the new couple makes their appearance, they’re bombarded by several family members. There are compliments all around, cheek-pinches, tight hugs and lots of congratulating. If Santana didn’t know any better, she’d think that someone told them that she and Brittany are newly engaged judging by the swarm.

Then again, Maribel’s probably told them that Brittany and Santana have been dating for weeks now which is way longer than any other relationship Santana’s had. Gossip in her family travels very fast, especially when it’s about her.

Any other girl Santana has brought home would’ve caved under the attention Santana’s aunts and cousins are giving them, but Brittany surprisingly does well. She remains kind and polite as introductions are reeled off and once again Santana finds herself being a little impressed.

\\

Awhile later, Brittany’s seated in an arm chair surrounded by some of Santana’s aunts while Santana watches from afar as she gets them both a drink. She can hear Brittany’s laughter, much like she did that morning, and wonders what’s so funny. The aunts that she’s with are some of the older, more gossipy ones so they can’t be that hilarious.

“I see Brittany’s getting along well with everyone,” Maribel notes as she comes up beside Santana.

“I told you she’s pretty charismatic,” Santana answers.

“Uh-huh,” Maribel hums and turns to Santana. “There’s something different about her.”

Santana attempts to keep her cool, not wanting to give away how Maribel’s comment makes her feel uneasy.

“I know,” She replies before it because suspicious. “I think that’s why we work so well together.”

Maribel nods, “Opposites attract.”

“That’s what they tell me,” Santana answers.

“Hmm,” Maribel turns to start pouring herself a drink. “You know Maria’s here.”

“Who’s Maria?”

Maribel frowns, “My friend? I set you up with her daughter?”

Santana instantly cringes, “Oh please don’t tell me Francesca is here too? I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.”

Maribel chuckles, “She’s not here.”

“Thank God.”

“Does Brittany know about that?”

Santana quirks a brow, “Does she know about you setting me up on blind dates against my will?”

Maribel’s expression hardens.

“No,” Santana answers. “That’s not something I wanted to explain to her considering it was super embarrassing. Our relationship was new anyway, I didn’t want to scare her off.”

“I see,” Maribel replies. “I guess it ended up working out anyway.”

“It did,” Santana says as she looks back to Brittany who’s admiring one of the aunt’s wedding ring. “See what happens when you don’t meddle in my love life?”

Maribel just swats at Santana’s shoulder. “I didn’t meddle. It was just a little guidance.”

“Okay Mami,” Santana laughs before heading over to Brittany.

Blue eyes flicker to meet hers once Santana gets close enough. They’re unreadable as Santana perches on the arm of Brittany’s chair. She leans down, her lips close to Brittany’s cheek.

“Let me know when you want a break,” Santana discreetly whispers before handing her a glass of wine.

Brittany smiles in thanks, “It’s not so bad. They’re way more interesting than my family and the food’s a whole lot better too. And you’re right, everyone loves my sweater!”

Santana chuckles and goes to sip her drink while Brittany jumps back into the conversation happening around them. The more she drinks, the less concerned about every little movement they make, the less worry she feels about what everyone’s thinking and if they’re believing this act.

\\

As they get closer to midnight, Santana loosens up more.

When Brittany leans back a little and slides an arm around Santana’s hips, she barely flinches. She actually leans into it, moving to play with the tips of Brittany’s softly tussled hair while the blonde tells the aunts about some reality show they all watch.

Santana’s not really listening, all the voices in the room and everything happening is all a blur. Not because she has a slight buzz going, but because this is what happens every family gathering. The aunts gather and gossip, the uncles drink and talk about business, the younger cousins run around, the older ones seclude themselves to one room where they sit on their phones and Maribel and Alma pump out dish after dish making sure everyone’s fed.

Usually Santana would’ve snuck out to the garage with her date by now for a quickie or at the very least a steamy make out session, but she finds herself in a very different position this time. She has to pretend like she knows anything about a long lasting relationship or any relationship really that doesn’t revolve around sex which is a new concept for her.

“Well look who it is!”

Suddenly another one of Santana’s cousins makes their presence known in a flashy wave of their arms. Santana knows the voice before she sees who it is, but Brittany’s looking up at her in confusion.

“Who’s she?”

“My super spoiled cousin,” Santana quips as the girl steps closer.

“I’m one of many, but the only one that matters the most.”

Santana rolls her eyes and glances to Brittany, “See what I mean?”

“Hi,” She greets with her hand out. “Sugar.”

“Hey,” Brittany replies as she takes the girl’s hand. “Sweetheart?”

Sugar’s eyes narrow while Brittany looks back innocently.

“Sugar’s her name,” Santana supplies.

Brittany blushes, “Oh!”

“It’s actually a nickname,” Sugar corrects.

“It’s not,” Santana laughs and turns to Brittany. “My uncle was totally high when he thought of it.”

“He was not!” Sugar huffs. “That’s just a rumor which he put to rest years ago.”

“Not a rumor,” Santana whispers to Brittany.

“Anyway,” Sugar rolls her eyes in a similar fashion as Santana before looking to the blonde. “You must be Brittany. The serious girlfriend everyone won’t stop talking about.”

Brittany glances up at Santana then back to Sugar, “That’s me. Hope it’s all good things you’ve been hearing or this would be super awkward.”

“Oh they’re super good things!” Sugar replies enthusiastically before moving to sit across from them. The aunts that were there have moved on to the kitchen, but Santana’s sure it’s because they can’t stand Sugar either.

“Of course they’re good,” Santana says as she drapes her arm around Brittany’s shoulders for a cuddle.

“I kind of find it suspicious,” Sugar tells them simply.

“What?” Brittany and Santana say in unison.

“You seem nice,” Sugar says to Brittany. “Relatively normal and a lot less trashy than the usual Santana brings around.”

“Nice Sugar,” Santana scoffs. “Talk to my current girlfriend about my past relationships.”

Sugar waves her off, “I’d hardly call them that.”

Brittany catches Sugar’s hand and gasps, “Wow, that’s a nice ring!”

Santana looks to her, amazed by the smooth distraction.

“Isn’t it?” Sugar beams at the engagement ring on her finger. “It weighs a ton!”

“Looks like it,” Brittany smiles before sitting back. “Is your fiancé here?””

“Yeah. Where is Mr. Moneybags?” Santana wonders as she eyes the room.

“Don’t call him that and he’s working.”

“Oh, what does he do?” Brittany asks in attempt to keep the spotlight off of them and on Sugar instead.  

Santana scoffs, “I don’t know if I’d consider getting high on your own supply working.”

Brittany looks to Santana curiously.

“Brett’s a stoner,” Santana tells her.

Sugar swats at her cousin’s arm, “He’s not! He’s actually the nation’s leading cannabis connoisseur and he takes his work very seriously.”

“Of course he does,” Santana winks before mouthing to Brittany. “He’s a stoner.”

“I saw that,” Sugar frowns before turning to Brittany. “There’s a lot more to the job than you’d think. You know he’s recently signed a deal with Bobby Flay to collaborate on a new cookbook? He’s basically a ginger Snoop Dog.”

“So he raps too?” Brittany asks innocently.

“Well, no,” Sugar replies. “But that might come later down the line.”

“God, I don’t think anyone needs to hear that man rap,” Santana laughs. “And Bobby Flay? Is he still relevant?”

Sugar rolls her eyes and goes to admire her ring, “I don’t ask questions. I just cash checks.”

“Wow,” Brittany says. “Well, I can’t wait to meet him.”

Sugar smiles appreciatively.

“I still can’t believe your dad is okay with you marrying this guy,” Santana jokes. “My mom would lose it.”

Sugar shrugs, “You know daddy, everything’s a future business venture. Anything to boost the Motta name.”

A realization hits Brittany, “Wait…Motta? As in the infamous Motta Pianos drug scandal?“  

“Different Motta,” Sugar abruptly says. “At least that’s what daddy told me.”

Brittany looks to Santana skeptically but Santana just shrugs.

“Well,” Santana glances at the time. “Hopefully he turns up soon.”

Sugar rolls her eyes, “He promised he’d be here in time for midnight and he never breaks his promise.”

“So, so romantic,” Santana teases.

Sugar waves her off again, “You wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

“I don’t know,” Brittany pipes in. “Santana’s pretty romantic when she puts her mind to it.”

Santana’s brows rise, same as Sugar’s.

“Really?” Sugar questions.

Brittany nods, “Believe me, it caught me by surprise too but she’s got a sweet side to her. It’s one of the many things I like about her.”

Santana finds her ego getting a good boost even if the compliment is made up.

“Santana’s a total teddy bear underneath her hard exterior,” Brittany adds as she smiles adoringly.

Sugar doesn’t look too convinced though, “Why can’t I picture that?”

Santana rolls her eyes, “Probably because no one has ever made me feel the way Brittany has. She makes me want to do things different, things I wouldn’t do with anyone else. She makes me want to slow down.”

That seemed to resonate a little more with Sugar while Brittany squeezes at Santana’s thigh and coos.

“Oh honeybunch,” Brittany goes to pinch her cheek. “You know, just the other week Santana surprised me with a candle-lit dinner.”

“I did?” Santana accidentally blurts. Brittany gives her a pointed look and Santana quickly changes her tone, “That’s right, I did.”

Sugar looks between the two suspiciously.

“You should’ve seen it, Sugar,” Brittany says. “It was the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me, a little cliché but I loved it. There were rose petals and jazz and Santana cooked this beautiful meal. It was totally unexpected.”

Sugar blinks and looks to Santana, “You did that?”

Santana masks her slight surprise and sells it, “Anything for my girl.”

“I don’t know,” Sugar looks at them skeptically. “You don’t do romance. You hate it.”

“I-I don’t hate it…”

“You do, you’ve specifically told me on numerous occasions that romance is for suckers.”

Santana smiles nervously at Brittany, but the blonde is quick to dispute Santana’s previous stance.

“Well, she’s definitely changed her stance,” Brittany says lovingly. “Show her the pictures.”

Santana looks back at her wondering if she forgot that they just made up this entire romantic moment on the spot and they’re aren’t any pictures. She of course can’t ask her so she has to be crafty.

“I don’t have any,” Santana thinks on her feet too. “I mean, I don’t have any that I could show her. Those pictures are for us.”

“Oh! That’s right,” Brittany goes along with it. “We just couldn’t help ourselves. We didn’t even eat until hours later.”

“Oh no, we ate.”

“Gross,” Sugar scrunches her nose. “Nevermind, this sounds accurate now.”

Santana laughs, “You should’ve been there. Actually, maybe not because there was a lot going on.”

Sugar starts to grimace again, “Please stop.”

“Brittany practically jumped me.”

“Did I?” Brittany challenges. “I recall you were the one doing the – “

“Okay, way too much info!” Sugar quickly interrupts.

“Sorry. Anyway, it was very pretty,” Brittany says.

“Probably some of my best work,” Santana adds.

Brittany agrees and goes to kiss Santana on the cheek, “You’re the sweetest.”

“You hear that?” Santana quips at Sugar. “I’m the sweetest.”

Sugar eyes the both of them as she sits back. “Shit. I guess this really is serious.”

\\

After their talk with Sugar, Santana and Brittany move about the other guests and mingle. By now, Brittany’s met most of Santana’s family and so far everyone seems to like her. Santana  knows from past experience that it’s still too soon to tell though, but Brittany seems to be holding up a lot better than she expected.

“For the lovebirds,” Sugar says as she waltzes over with a couple party crowns and hands them off.

“Nice!” Brittany grins happily and puts on the crown with ease.

Santana sighs, “These are so lame.”

“I’ll tell your mom you said that,” Sugar quips.

“Snitch.”

“Grump.”

“I like them,” Brittany interrupts with a flick at the crown, the new year in bulky, sparkly numbers. “I feel very festive.”

“Aren’t they? And they match your sweater which is super cute by the way,” Sugar compliments before looking to Santana. “I still don’t understand she’s with you.”

“You don’t need to,” Santana tells her before sliding her out the way in favor of standing closer to Brittany. “We should get our bubbles now. I see Abuela walking around with them.”

“There’s bubbles here too?” Brittany asks in surprise. “You guys really go all out!”

“I’m talking about champagne,” Santana replies with a smirk. “Come on.”

They leave Sugar once again and make their way over. Abuela’s returned to a small table lined with champagne flutes and holds a bottle of something expensive in her hands.

“Need a hand?” Brittany asks, ever so helpful.

Abuela looks between them and shakes her head before speaking to Santana, once again in Spanish only. Santana finds herself feeling a little annoyed by Abuela’s behavior, but she only listens and nods. She’s not trying to pick a fight and Abuela knows how to cause a scene.

Meanwhile Brittany looks away, attempting to mask the dejection.

“I said I understand,” Santana suddenly says. She softens when she realizes her tone and quietly takes the two flutes Abuela holds out for her and Brittany.

“Thanks,” Brittany says softly as Santana leads the way elsewhere. It takes her a moment before she asks, “What was that about?”

Santana shakes her head, “She’s just being petty.”

“Oh,” Brittany goes to take a sip of her champagne. “Is it me?”

“It’s not.”

“Are you sure? I’ve been trying to bond with her but the language barrier makes it a little hard. I didn’t know that she doesn’t speak English.”

Santana shakes her head, “Oh no, she does. She’s just fucking with you.”

“Wait what?” Brittany looks to Abuela in disbelief. “Why would she do that?”

“Like I said, she’s petty.”

Brittany looks back at her, wanting more information.

“She doesn’t think you’ll last,” Santana clarifies. “She’s tired of spending the time to learn someone new just to never see them again so…she’s just not going to do it this time. She’s not going to try.”

Brittany frowns and Santana actually feels a little bad about being so truthful. Her abuela is as stubborn as they come, so Brittany shouldn’t really take it that personally but the look on her face tells Santana she’s a little too late.

“Look, who cares what she thinks,” Santana reasons. “The person we really need to focus on convincing is my mom.”

Brittany nods, “Okay. Right.”

“Yeah, so don’t mind her,” Santana says and clinks Brittany’s flute with her own. “Drink up, I’m winning.”

“It’s always a competition with you,” Brittany smirks before taking another sip.

\\

For the next hour, they snack on all the various dishes and continue drinking until Eddie announces that they’re fifteen minutes away from ringing in the new year. Most of the guests have on some type of party hat or party glasses and Eddie goes to turn on the live stream of Times Square Ball Drop while flutes are topped up.

Santana and Brittany join the others as everyone migrates to the living room, everyone awaiting the screen to fill with the countdown.

“Do you have a resolution in mind?” Brittany asks.

Santana glances to her at the unexpected question, but Brittany’s eyes are focused on the screen before them.

Santana’s never been one to make a resolution because she doubts she’d ever commit to actually keeping it. However, for the sake of answering Brittany she thinks about it. Most resolutions are about losing weight or getting fit which doesn’t apply to her because she’s already got a smoking hot bod. Other popular resolutions relate to a career – which she doesn’t have yet – or her love life – which is set since she already has a fake girlfriend.

At a loss for an answer, Santana shrugs.

“I don’t think so,” She says. “How about you?”

Brittany shrugs too, “I don’t think I know yet either. Maybe travel more or learn a language? Something like that.”

Santana nods, “Well I can definitely help with the travelling one. Thank God I’ve got access to my dad’s frequent flyer miles.”

Brittany chuckles before they’re interrupted by Santana’s family beginning to count down the last minute before the new year. Santana laughs at their enthusiasm while Brittany joins in, shouting just as loud as everyone else. The walls are practically rattling as everyone counts down together.

“5…4…3…2…1!”

“Happy New Year,” Brittany tells Santana in a much calmer voice.

Santana replies, “Happy New Year.”

There’s suddenly an awkward tension between them because couples around are kissing each other, family members hug, meanwhile they just stand there not moving a muscle. Santana tries to relieve the tension before anyone notices and quickly kisses Brittany’s cheek.

“The cheek?” Sugar points out.

She’s hanging off her fiancé Brett – who really did turn up in time – and there’s a look of pure judgement on her face. She’s also drunk as hell, but Santana tenses at being called out anyway.

“Woah. Chill babe,” Brett tells her coolly.  

“You saw that right?” Sugar asks him.

“See what?”

“Honestly, Brett!”

The louder she gets, the more attention is pointed their way and it makes Santana feel even more antsy. Maybe this is it? Maybe this where they get found out? Santana can’t say they’re not into PDA because that’s so not her so what other excuse could there be?

“Just do it,” Brittany whispers suddenly.

Santana looks at her in surprise while Sugar’s wrapped up Brett trying to feed her a glass of water. She can’t have a whole debate with Brittany right now, she can’t point out that they’ve yet to kiss each other anywhere else besides the cheek, she can’t opt for a different way out because the blonde is already pulling her in.

Brittany’s hand cradles Santana’s cheek while the other falls to her waist. It’s hard for Santana to stay in character because she really didn’t anticipate having to do something like this in front of everyone – which is pretty silly considering it’s New Year’s Eve and people usually kiss their partners.

God, why didn’t she think of this?!

There’s no time to beat herself up about it though. She braces herself, giving Brittany total control for the first time.

The last thing she sees is piercing blue eyes flickering between hers before they flutter shut.

The next thing she feels are the soft lips pressing into hers with a kind of gentleness that she isn’t used to. What Santana’s used to is hard and fast, all teeth and an insatiable need – not this…tenderness.

Then just as fast as it happened, it’s over.

Brittany pulls away, blinking slowly while Santana does the same. There’s a split second where those around them cheer – even Sugar – but Santana doesn’t really hear it. She’s too busy staring at Brittany, still in complete disbelief that she just did that.

She just kissed her.

Once the novelty wears off, everyone goes back to mingling with each other around the house while Santana and Brittany stay put.

“I’m surprised I didn’t throw up,” Brittany comments lowly.

Santana’s taken aback by the comment and snorts, “I’m a little nauseous if I’m being honest.”

“Oh really?”

“It was a real struggle for me.”

Brittany snorts this time, “How do you think I feel? I thought you were meant to be the experienced one, but kissing you was like kissing a wall – you didn’t even move!”

“I was clearly taken by surprise…”

“Bullshit. I gave you a signal.”

“What?” Santana laughs, “What signal?”

“The look,” Brittany recreates a stare that doesn’t really give Santana much.

“Was that it?”

“Yes!”

“It’s not a very good signal.”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “Seriously though…that was a close one.”

“Very,” Santana agrees.

\\

Santana and Brittany hang around downstairs awhile longer before guests begin to head home for the night. With a late morning flight the next day, Santana and Brittany retreat to Santana’s room too to get ready for bed.

Again, they do their familiar dance of taking turns in the bathroom and getting changed into their pajamas in private until they find themselves standing in front of the bed. Santana glances to Brittany, seeing if she’ll be setting up the makeshift bed again.

She gets her answer when Brittany reaches for a couple pillows and starts pulling off the comforter.

“Really?” Santana jokes as she plops down on the bed. “Can I at least get another pillow?”

Brittany shakes her head as she builds her nest of cushions and blankets.

“You’re up there and I’m down here on the floor,” Brittany replies. “Who needs more pillows?”

“You chose to be down there.”

“Because I’m not getting in a bed with you.”

“So you’ve said a million times,” Santana replies as she gets comfortable under the covers.

“Well get used to it because it’s not happening,” Brittany tells her. “Ever.”

“You know, you’re probably the first person that has said that to me?”

Brittany snorts, “With your reputation, I believe it.”

Santana’s jaw drops a little, “Ouch.”

Brittany pokes her head up from the end of the bed, “Don’t act like your feelings are hurt.”

Santana raises her chin, “They’re not.”

Brittany eyes her before sinking back down. Once she’s out of sight, Santana slumps wondering why the brunt of how everyone views her actually relies on other people. Her mom and Abuela, even Brittany, don’t see her for her but instead the people she surrounds herself with.

It starts to really set in that her accomplishments, her fantastic grades, her near perfect GPA don’t seem to mean much when she has the kind of reputation she does. Does no one see how ridiculous that is? It’s her personal life, so what if she doesn’t want to be tied down?

She can understand her mom and abuela taking that stance, because they’re old school but Brittany too? Not that she cares about her opinion, but she figured she’d have a different point of view considering she wasn’t raised in the dark ages.  

Apparently though, it doesn’t matter and the frustration she feels upon the realization keeps her up for another hour or so before she finally tires herself out.

\\

Despite the late night, Santana awakes earlier than usual. She finds that even Brittany’s still asleep before she quietly sneaks out of the room and heads downstairs. She can hear Maribel in the kitchen and the smell of fresh coffee fills the air.

“This is a sight,” Maribel notes from her spot at the counter.

Santana just grunts and scuffles her way over to the coffee pot where a mug awaits her.

“Hungry? I’ll make some breakfast soon.”

Santana shakes her head, “This will be okay for now.”

Maribel hums and together they sit at the counter and sip their coffees in silence. Santana’s slowly starting to feel like a person again as the brew goes down, but Maribel doesn’t let the silence stick around.

“So Brittany,” She says.

Santana’s brows rise as she glances to her mom. She couldn’t even last five minutes without bringing up her relationship.

“I think she’s really lovely,” Maribel admits. “Not the usual kind of girl you bring home, but it’s a nice change. A welcomed change.”

Santana nods, biting her cheek in the process because those feelings she fell asleep to are still strong. The last thing she wants to talk or even think about is how happy Maribel is with Santana solely because she with Brittany now. Yes, that’s the point but it still.

“I just hope that she’ll stick around a little longer,” Maribel adds.

“She will,” Santana answers resolutely.

Maribel only sips from her mug slowly.

\\

A few hours later, Santana and Brittany are on their flight back to campus.

Like the first flight over, Brittany’s tense until they get to cruising altitude and she can busy herself with homework.

Santana on the other hand keeps her earbuds in and tries tuning out the world. Unlike before, Santana doesn’t have any interest in helping Brittany cope with her dislike for flying. She just wants to listen to her music and disappear in a bag of gummy bears after an exhausting past couple of days.

Not that they were physically exhausting, but try pretending to be into someone as annoying as Brittany. It’s a lot of work, especially for Santana, and she’s just about hit her breaking point.

She does pretty well in holding everything inside until Brittany leans over the arm rest that separates them, breaching her personal bubble. Her hand is going for Santana’s bag of gummies and like a spoiled toddler Santana jolts the bag away before Brittany can reach it.

“Can I help you?” Santana snaps.  

Brittany frowns, “Are you really not going to share?”

“These aren’t for you.”

“What happened to what’s mine is yours?”

Santana gives her a look, “We’re not married. We’re barely even dating.”

Brittany’s frown deepens and the way she stares makes Santana focus hard on the bag in her hands. But even when she avoids eye contact, Santana can still feel the judgmental glare.

“Can you stop staring at me?”

Brittany huffs, “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Then what’s your problem with me?”

Santana scoffs, “That’s a pretty loaded question.”

“Well, answer it because I’m sick of the attitude.”

For Santana, those words are like lighting a firecracker within her.

“You wanna know what my problem is?” She snaps. “Ever since you transferred to Columbia you have been nothing but a pain in my ass.”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“It’s like you’ve made it your mission in life to one up me every chance you get,” Santana tells her. “I used to have the highest GPA and I was on track to be valedictorian until you came along. You know how it feels to work your ass off to get to where I am only for it to be taken away? A second time? I bet you don’t.”

Brittany slumps in her seat, “I-I’m not doing it on purpose.”

Santana doesn’t hear her reasoning. The floodgates within her have been blown wide open.

“Not to mention your head is so far up Professor Martinez’s ass you might as well wear it as a hat!”

Brittany stiffens, “You don’t know a thing about me, Santana.”

“Please,” Santana scoffs. “I know your type. Pretty, blonde and smart? You’re the epitome of privilege.”

Brittany’s jaw drops but she quickly grits her teeth, “And what about you? Hot-headed Latina with a chip on her shoulder because she was probably burned by someone like me in the past?”

Santana’s taken aback, but there’s no way she’s going to waver in front of Brittany. It doesn’t seem to matter though, because Brittany sees the crack in Santana’s façade.

“See? I can stereotype too,” Brittany tells her upon the silence.

Santana shakes her head, “I don’t need this.”

“There you go quitting again,” Brittany points out. “Probably a result of this girl. God, she really must’ve done a number on you. Makes sense why you can’t commit to anything.”

“Why are you so sure there’s a girl?”

“There’s always a girl.”

Santana feels like she’s beneath a microscope, but she looks back at Brittany challengingly.

“Well congrats, Brittany. You’ve got me all figured out. Great job,” Santana replies, her words full of sarcasm.

Brittany shakes her head, “You know what your problem is?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“You’re afraid,” Brittany tells her simply. “And it’s so obvious. You’re afraid of commitment. You’re afraid of opening up. You’re afraid of your own mother because if you weren’t we wouldn’t be in this mess. You wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Santana bites her cheek even though Brittany’s words really struck a nerve within her. She can’t react though, she can’t let Brittany know that she has successfully landed a blow. So Santana does what she does best and retreats.

“You’re lucky we’re stuck on this stupid plane together because the moment it lands, that’s it,” Santana tells her. “This is over. I’m done. I don’t care about the job or what my mother thinks. It’s not worth the headache of being stuck with you in this stupid relationship!”

“Good!”

“Fine!”

“Great!”

The two of them practically huff and cross their arms, turning away from each other since they can’t stomp off for dramatic effect. The silence is heavy and thick though and it only intensifies the longer it weighs down on them.

Santana knows she might blowing things out of proportion, they both might be guilty of that, but how else was she meant to react? In reality, she knows she can’t give up this easily. They’ve already laid down the ground work, she can’t let it be for nothing.

Swallowing pride has never been something Santana’s particularly good at doing, but she needs to figure it out before their plane touches down. She just hopes that whatever the reason might be that Brittany’s doing this is enough for her to give this a second try.

“Look,” Santana says timidly a long while later. “I’m sorry for how I acted.”

Brittany glances to her but doesn’t say a word.

“I know I can be a bitch sometimes and it’s something that I struggle with,” Santana admits. “But from now on, I can try to be less of a bitch to you. That is if you want to keep doing this, because as much as I hate to admit it – I can’t do this without you.”

Brittany mulls it over before nodding, “That was a much better apology.”

Santana’s smiles back in relief. There’s a somewhat more relaxed quiet, but it doesn’t last very long.

“I’m sorry for what I said before,” She says. “About you being afraid. That wasn’t very nice.”

Santana smirks, “Honestly, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Yeah,” Brittany sighs. “I don’t know why I said that. I don’t even know if there is a girl. I guess I was on a roll, being around you really brings it out of me I think.”

Santana chuckles lightly, “Well…there was a girl so you weren’t entirely wrong.”

Brittany turns to her with brows raised, but Santana keeps her eyes averted elsewhere.

“Well, while we’re on the topic of not being wrong,” Brittany pauses. “I am a little bit of a kiss-ass in Professor Martinez’s class.”

“I knew it.”

“I just never had a teacher like him, okay? I might’ve gotten a little excited about it.”

“A little?”

“What?” Brittany replies timidly. “It’s nice to be praised for thinking outside of the box rather than being punished for not staying in it.”

Santana quirks her brow at that.

“For once, being different is seen as something good,” Brittany continues. “You have no idea what it’s like to be belittled, to be seen as this dumb blonde for so long just because my brain worked differently, to be pushed aside because no one thought I’d amount to anything.”

“But you said you went to MIT,” Santana replies. “Unless you were just saying that to impress my mom?”

“No, that was true,” Brittany nods. “MIT was where I realized I was gifted. It was like I went from one extreme to another. I went from no one caring to suddenly everyone caring. They didn’t care about me though, they cared about what I could do for them.”

Santana stays quiet and listens. She’s not familiar with this side of Brittany and if she’s being honest it’s kind of eye-opening.

“I didn’t know,” Santana replies softly.

“Most people don’t. I’ve had a lot of people just…give up on me,” Brittany tells her in a sigh. “You have no idea what that feels like, to be left behind.”

“Yeah,” Santana frowns as Brittany’s words strike a chord, “I kind of do.”

That takes Brittany by surprise, “Really?”

“Maybe not the same context but I definitely know the feeling,” Santana replies then holds out her bag of gummies to share. There’s a kind smile on her face for once as she says, “It sucks.”

Brittany looks down at the bag and smirks before she takes a couple pieces and pops them into her mouth.

“You know,” She says as she chews. “I kind of hate that we have this much in common.”

Santana chuckles, “Me too.”

[lilliagradiewrites]

wish you liked girls (kiara carrera)

Summary: You’ve been best friends with kiara for years, but lately you’ve noticed some changes in the way you feel towards her. When you hear the song she wrote about you, all is revealed.

WC: 4.5k

WARNINGS: homophobic, use of the f slur, cursing, nothing else really, just lots of angst and a lil fluff.

*this is based off of the song ‘wish you liked girls’ by Abbey Glover. I changed the lyrics around a little to fit the story better, but all credits to her nonetheless!!

A/N: happy new years my loves! this one shot is kind of my new years gift to all of you. I haven't been very active in the past few days, so I’m sorry about that. i tried to upload this on christmas, but tumblr was rude and didn’t let me, so here we are instead! wishing you all the greatest 2021, and I hope you all enjoy!

LET’S DO IT!!

~~~~~

You didn’t know exactly how you felt towards Kiara in the beginning. You feelings for her were indecipherable; more than friends… but also just friends?

The past few months had been a wild ride for you. Constantly, you were questioning your sexuality, and frankly everything you’d ever known.

It got harder as the days went on, and with every beautiful girl that showed up in your Instagram feed or your tiktok for you page.

And then, of course, there was Kiara.

Perfect, beautiful, unattainable Kiara.

She was your best friend, and you usually viewed your hangouts as a super comforting and safe space. Now, however, your hangouts were simply a cause for more stress.

Kiara was so… wonderful. After knowing her for many years, you could confidently say that the girl had no flaws.

Kie’s perfection made everything so much harder for you. Your feelings toward your friend were incredibly confusing.

Did you want to be her, or be with her?

The biggest issue was not your feelings for Kiara, but rather a completely separate problem.

Your boyfriend.

You were nearing a year with Hunter, the boy you found yourself lucky to call your own.

Hunter was an amazing guy, and everything a teenage girl could ask for in a boyfriend. He was considerate and sweet, and always knew the right thing to say to you. He never pressured you into intimacy, knowing that you weren’t comfortable or ready just yet.

You loved Hunter, you knew you did.

Yet, you found yourself feeling that same way towards Kiara.

This was the main issue causing the battle in your head. Was your love for Kiara just platonic? Or maybe you loved Hunter as a friend, Kiara was the one you wanted to be with?

None of those options felt right, but the last possible option made you feel confused and slightly guilty….

What if you wanted to be with them both?

All these thoughts rushed through your head as you brushed makeup on your face, preparing for a night with the girl who frequented your thoughts daily.

There was an open mic night at you and Kiara’s favorite indie cafe. Kie, who was unknowingly an amazing singer and songwriter, had played some music for you a while back, leading to a process of you encouraging her to grow as an artist.

For months, Kiara had been running song ideas by you. You could recall countless nights during which you and Kiara would sit on her bed, working together to finish up a song she’d been writing.

Kiara credits all her music to you completely, but you knew she was just being modest. The girl was undeniably talented.

That’s why, when you saw that Retro was having an open mic night, you’d insisted that your best friend go play one of her songs.

You had sat on her bed that night, the flyer you’d collected from the cafe sitting between the two of you.

You grabbed the notebook containing all of the lyrics you’d written together, and pored over the most recent piece.

The song was your best one yet. She’d been inspired by yet another fight between JJ and Rafe.

“What if I write something about the pogues and the kooks being so divided?” She’d suggested that same night. You could tell, judging by the look in her eyes, that a train of ideas was chugging in circles throughout her mind. “The whole thing is so ugly and gross… I just want to turn into something beautiful, you know?”

Without a second thought, you’d picked up a pencil and the song book you’d grown to be familiar with, and the two of you got down to work.

Two sleepless nights and countless cups of coffee later, the two of you had completed the piece. It was undoubtedly the best song you’d ever written. It captured the unnecessary feeling of hatred coming from the opposite groups of the island perfectly, adding a touch of soul. The moral of the song was simple: can we just get along?

Kiara had strung the words together beautifully, adding a gorgeous melody and some strums on her guitar. Once the two of you heard the lyrics had worked so hard on turned to music, you knew that there was something special about this piece.

That’s why you insisted so strongly that Kiara sing it at the open mic night.

“I don’t know, Y/N…” Kiara had twiddled her fingers, biting her lip in apprehension. “What if people hate my music? Or what if I fuck it up so bad I become a massive laughingstock. I don’t think I could handle it.”

You smiled, grabbing her hands to still them. “It’s a good thing you won’t have to worry about that, then, because you’re not gonna fuck it up.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” Kiara protested, breaking the gaze you’d been holding as you spoke.

“I do!” You grabbed Kiara’s chin, moving her face towards you so that her eyes met yours again. “You are fucking amazing, Kiara Carrera. Do not doubt yourself. You are so talented, Kie, I don’t think you even realize how incredible you are. I am going to that cafe tomorrow and signing you up for the open mic night whether you like or not.”

This was a threat, but not an honest one. You would never sign her up knowing she was uncomfortable. So, when you let go of your light grip on her chin, you listened intently for a murmur of approval.

After a moment, it finally came.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Yes!” You exclaimed in celebration, throwing your arms around your friend. “I’m so excited, you’re gonna be amazing!

Now, a few days later, you’re sitting at your vanity, preparing for the night you’d be waiting for. Kie was extremely nervous, so you’d taken her out shopping earlier that day to calm her down. She’d bought a new outfit for the open mic night, which looked amazing on her. She promised you that she’d come pick you up so you could go to the performance together, and you’d happily agreed.

You didn’t expect to be at your house an hour early, though.

You weren’t even halfway through your makeup when you heard a knock at your door.

You’d rushed down the stairs, praying you’d get to the door first.

Your parents never liked Kie. They knew she liked girls and guys, and called her a “Hippie whore.”

Your homophobic parents: Yet another reason you couldn’t come to terms with the way you felt towards your best friend.

The odds seemed to be in your favor today, as you reached the door before your parents and swung it open to reveal a highly nervous Kiara.

“Hey!” You smiled. “What are you doing here so early?”

Kiara bit her lip in embarrassment and looked down to her feet.

“I-I got nervous and I got ready way too early. I know I’m not supposed to be here for another 45 minutes, but I’m too freaked out to be alone. Is it okay if I hang out with you while you finish getting ready?” She questions softly, almost embarrassed.

You smile, finding her nerves exceptionally adorable.

“Yes, of course you can. Come in, come in.”

You grab her arm, closing the door behind her and pulling her quickly up the stairs. The last thing you wanted was for Kiara to have to interact with your parents.

Once in your room, you close the door and head back to your vanity, Kiara flopping down on your bed.

As you sat down and continued applying your makeup, you spoke to your friend.

“So, how nervous and excited are you for tonight?”

Kiara smiled lightly, and bit her lip once again. “Very for both.” She confesses with a small chuckle.

“I know you can’t tell someone not to be nervous but I can tell you that you shouldn’t be. You’re incredible, Kie. I can’t wait for everyone to see how talented my best friend is.

You focus hard on your eyeliner, leaning in to your mirror to make sure you get a clean wing.

Once you're done on both sides, you lean back and admire your work. Perfecting your winged liner was something you’d been working on for a while, and it seems that your practice has helped. The wings are sharp and pretty much even. If you don’t look too closely, the wings are seemingly symmetrical. This is good enough for you, you decide, capping the liquid liner and setting it back in your makeup drawer.

Finally done with your makeup, you begin cleaning off your desk. You put your products back in your drawer, and the brushes in the holder you have for them on the corner of your desk.

Standing up, you look at Kie with a smile. “Now help me pick out an outfit so that I look hot supporting you from the audience.”

45 minutes later, the two of you are finally ready to leave. Kie is nervous as ever, but you offer comforting words to try and help calm her down as much as possible. You grab your favorite bag and throw the essentials in it. Your phone, a portable charger (just in case), and a few extra hair ties. Once you were done, you turned to Kie, who was playing with her fingers anxiously. “You ready?” You asked, encouragement laced in your voice. Kiara, still very obviously apprehensive, could do nothing but nod. Taking your bag in one hand and Kiara’s hand in the other, you head out of your room and towards the front door.

The two of you made your way down the stairs, moving quickly to leave so that you didn’t have to interact with either of your awful parents. When you got to the bottom, you rushed for the door, fumbling with the door handle. The house you lived in was old, and all of the metal pieces (such as the door knob) were rusted and hard to use. You did your best trying to twist it open, saying a silent prayer that one of your parents didn’t round the corner and see Kiara with you. She was nervous enough as it is; she didn’t need your parents making her night even worse.

Unfortunately for the both of you, your prayers were seemingly denied as your mother walked into the foyer, arms crossed over her chest.

You had hardly even noticed her presence until she said your name, anger apparent in her voice.

“Y/N. How many times do I have to tell you who you can and cannot bring into our home?”

You grimaced at the sound of her voice, turning slowly, knowing you’ll be met with inescapable doom. In the process of turning, you saw the look on Kie’s face. She looked anxious and heartbroken, not to mention severely guilty. After seeing your best friend’s expression, you knew you weren’t cowering down to your mother.

Your original plan had been to apologize profusely and beg her to let you go with Kie, possibly even lying about where you were headed.

But you knew you had nothing to apologize for, and neither did Kie.

“I don’t see why it matters, Mom.”

Surprise flashed over your mother’s face, shocked by your confidence. Standing up for yourself wasn’t your usual reaction to her scoldings, and she wasn’t prepared for the reply she was given.

“It matters because it’s my house, and because I’m your mother. I told you I did not want people like her over at this house. Now send the girl on her way and come sit down with me. I think we need to talk.”

You had to admit, you were nervous to make your next move. You knew what you were going to do, and it would result in getting your ass shredded when you come back home. But you didn’t care; you had to be there for Kie.

“I can’t right now. Me and Kiara have a place to be, so…” You turned and messed with the doorknob some more, finally getting it to work correctly. “I’ll talk to you when I get home tonight. It shouldn’t be terribly late. But, I might stay over at Kie’s, so, you think you could wait until tomorrow?”

Anger washed quickly over your mother’s face. She uncrossed her arms so that she could clench her fists at her sides, moving towards you menacingly. “Absolutely not, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. You will be staying here, and you will not be staying at her house. I won’t allow it.”

You smirked, a sudden confidence washing over you. “Well, that doesn’t sound very fun. Good thing I didn’t ask for your permission, huh?”

Kie looked shocked by your attitude, and your mother was getting angrier by the second.

“I’m going to need you to fix your attitude, young lady, or there will be severe consequences.”

“I don’t care. I don’t, and I’m not sorry about it. Kie is my best friend, whether you like it or not, and I’m spending the night with her.”

Your mother’s face was almost completely red. “Kie is a fag-”

“No. Don’t you dare finish that sentence. I will not allow you to talk to her that way. Why are you the way that you are?”

“Why are you hanging out with gay people? Do you like girls or something?”

“Why does it matter?” You’re fuming at this point. If she wasn’t your mother, you would’ve hit her by now.

“It matters because homosexuals are abominations. The Lord says so. I thought I’d taught you this by now, but clearly I didn’t press the word of God into you hard enough when you were younger.”

“No, Mom. Terrible people like you are an abomination. We’re leaving.”

And with that, you were gone, wrenching the door open and ushering Kie out of it, ignoring your mother’s shouts as you closed it behind you.

You rushed to Kie’s car, hopping in it as she pulled out of your driveway and sped through your neighborhood.

The two of you were completely silent for a moment. Both of you could barely process what had just happened. The more you thought about the situation, the more it upset you. Who was your mother to decide who you could and couldn’t hang out with? Especially when her reasons for you not hanging out with Kie were so disgusting.

What would your mother say if she knew the thoughts you’d been having?

After a little while, Kiara broke the silence. “Why is your mom like that?” Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, and you could tell by the tone of her voice that she was fighting tears.

You sighed. Hearing Kiara so upset, especially on a day that was supposed to be fun, broke you. “I wish I knew, Kie. I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t believe she accused you of liking girls just because you hang out with me. She’s so disrespectful for no reason.”

You shook your head. “You say it like it’s a terrible thing she ‘accused’ me of. It’s not a bad thing. She just made it bad because she’s a bitch.”

Kiara nodded, turning her head to gaze out the window. A momentary silence fell over the two of you, but you couldn’t help but feel like something wasn’t right. You glanced over at Kie, whose brows were furrowed. She bit her lip in thought.

Is there something she wanted to say?

“Kie? Are you alright?”

The brunette didn’t say anything. You knew something was up, so you pressed further.

“What’s on your mind, love?”

Kiara shot out her reply quickly, like it was taking all of her courage to say it.

“You didn’t deny it.”

“Deny what?”

“Liking girls.”

You paused briefly, letting the girls words sink in for a second.

“No, I didn’t.”

Kiara turned to you, a million emotions in her dark eyes. They all flashed as you made eye contact, making each feeling hard to identify. “Do you?”

“Like girls?” Your breathing was halted. Was Kiara… feeling the same way towards you as you had been for her?

“I-I don’t know.”

Kie turned towards you. When you looked at her, you could see the tears in her eyes.

You could identify a strong sense of hope in her dark eyes.

“You don’t know?”

Suddenly, you remembered.

Hunter.

Your amazing boyfriend that you loved so much.

“It doesn’t really matter though, I guess. Since I’m with Hunter.”

The words had left your mouth before you could stop them.

Kie took a deep breath, and looked away.

“Right. Hunter.”

A few minutes later, you’d arrived at the cafe. No more words had been spoken, and tension in the car was thick.

Once the car was parked, you finally spoke.

“Are you ready to go?”

Kie nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you climbed out of the car, Kiara going into the back to grab her guitar. Once everything was locked up, the two of you headed inside in silence.

The crowd was bustling with life in the small cafe. On one side, people with songbooks and sheet music sat with their instruments, and on the other side, people sat sipping on cups on coffee.

When you noticed the separation, Kie headed over to the performers side. You gave a light ‘good luck,’ to which Kiara didn’t reply, and then the two of you went separate ways.

Kiara took a seat in the performer section, looking nervously at the people around her. She tried her best to push away the feelings from the conversation in the car earlier, but it was very difficult. For a moment there, she had allowed herself to believe that the feelings she had for you were reciprocated. That look in your eye when you looked at her… something about it made her think you felt the same as she did. Unfortunately, she was wrong.

You just had to bring your Hunter.

Kiara hated Hunter, though she’d never let you know that. She had no real reason to hate him, but she did. She hated him so much, it was almost painful to see his face.

She hated him because he had what Kie wanted more than anything else in the world.

You.

Kie watched you as you moved around on the other side of the cafe. You were standing at the counter, talking to the barista. Though Kie couldn’t hear you over the bustle of the place, she knew exactly what you were saying.

You were ordering your usual: a large vanilla sweet cream cold brew with caramel drizzle. You order has been the same for what feels like forever. You had tried other things, but you always stuck to your favorite.

“I’ve never liked anything as much as this.” You’d said a few weeks earlier, when Kie had teased you for never changing your order.

Kie longed to be over there with you, teasing you about your order. Just talking to you lit up her life. You were everything to her, and she wasn’t even afraid to admit it.

You got your coffee, thanking the barista and dropping some change in the tip jar.

Kie watched as you scanned the room, searching for an empty seat. As you looked around, your eyes met Kiara’s, and you held her gaze for a moment. Though you didn’t know why she was being so cold towards you earlier, you couldn’t help but offer a small smile of encouragement.

To your great relief, she smiled back.

Once you knew she was alright, you broke her gaze and continued searching for a seat. You wanted to sit near the front, so that you could lock eyes with Kie when she was on stage as a form of moral support, but all of the front seats were taken.

Slightly disappointed, you had to take a seat in the back, near the exit.

When Kie saw that smile you gave her, she knew something had to be done. Even when the two of you weren’t really on the best terms, you continued to support her.

She loved you so fucking much.

Right then and there, Kiara made a decision, one she hoped she wouldn’t come to regret in the future.

An hour had gone by, and many performers had made their way on and off the stage in the small cafe. You counted down the performers until your best friend went on the stage, nervously playing with the straw on your cup. Even though you weren’t the one going up on the stage, you still felt terrified.

When the performer before your friend was reading off the last lines of his slam poem, your heart began to race.

The guy walked off, and you watched your friend stand up.

“Next up, we have Kiara Carrera, performing an original song called ‘differences aside.’ Let’s give her a very warm welcome!”

You could barely hear the announcer calling Kie’s name over the sound of your heart pounding.

Up on the stage, Kiara’s heart was pounding just as loud.

See, when Kie showed up at your house earlier in the day, she had completely intended to sing the song the two of you had written together. ‘Differences Aside’ was a beautiful song, and one she was very proud of. However, after the events that had went down on the way to the cafe, her mind had changed.

She was writing a song she had written by herself.

A song she wrote about you.

“Hey, everyone, I’m Kiara. I know I said that I was gonna be singing a song called ‘Differences Aside,’ but there’s been a slight change of plans. I’m going to be singing a different original instead. I hope you all enjoy it.”

When she had finished talking, she made direct eye contact with you. You were shocked by her words, and a little bit upset. Was she really so frustrated with you, or hurt by your previous conversation, that she refused to sing the song you wrote together?

It was heartbreaking, and you moved lower in your seat as she began strumming her guitar, fighting the tears forming in your eyes.

“I grew pretty attached to you,

Like a dog on a lead

Thought you were everything I could’ve dreamed of,

And all I could ever need.

But you like him, him, him

But you like him, him, him

And you don’t like me.”

Kiara’s voice rang out as she began singing. She sounded beautiful, and the song was very pretty.

You would’ve loved it, but you were slightly confused.

With every word she sang, she was looking directly into your eyes.

“Always thought you looked at me differently

Than any other you'd see

Thought you were aching to see me

At any, any possibility

But you like boys, boys, boys

But you like boys, boys, boys

And you don't like me.”

Your eyes widened at the last lyrics.

Was this song about you?

“I could be a bitch and tell you a million reasons why

Being with me would be much better than with any other guy

I could tell you I'll treat you right

And never wrong

Tell you in my arms is where you belong

“But I know that you can't change someone

So I'll just leave you alone, although

I wish you liked girls, girls, girls

Wish you liked girls, girls, girls

Girls like me.”

With Kie looking in your eyes as she sang, the lyrics hit you hard.

She did have feelings for you.

Tears began to sting your eyes, and you were overcome with emotion. You dropped Kie’s eyes, grabbing your things and standing up. Unable to stay any longer, you ran out the door, crying as you did.

Inside, up on the stage, Kiara’s heart dropped as she watched you leave. She had no choice but continue to sing.

“I wish you would’ve been more clear

When I was hanging out with you

That women isn't really something

That you've ever been into

'Cause you like boys, boys, boys

'Cause you like boys, boys, boys

And you don't like me.”

Tears began to fall as she sang, blurring her eyes. She just kept strumming, putting everything she had into the last verse and chorus of the song.

“And I know you don't swing that way

But that won't take my feelings away

Oh I wish you liked girls

I wish you liked girls

Like me”

It became harder to sing as sobs caught in her throat, but she pushed through. She was going to make it through this performance. She had to.

“I could be a bitch and tell you a million reasons why

Being with me would be much better than with any other guy

I could tell you I'll treat you right

And never wrong

Tell you in my arms is where you belong

But I know that you can't change someone

So I'll just leave you alone, although

I wish you liked girls, girls, girls

Wish you liked girls, girls, girls

Girls like me”

When the last chord rang out at the end of the song, the crowd erupted in applause and murmurs. Kie choked out a quiet ‘thank you’ in the microphone before running off the stage and outside to you.

She was so so scared that she’d ruined everything.

When she got out there, you on the phone, sniffling as you spoke.

“See you soon. Okay, bye.”

You turned around, and your cheeks immediately went pink when you saw her.

“Hi.” You said softly, not knowing what else to do.

“Who was that on the phone?”

“Hunter.”

Kie’s heart dropped when she heard the name. She recalled your words from when she’d first walked out. ‘See you soon.’ Her heart dropped further.

“Is he coming to pick you up?”

You shook your head, causing a small bit of relief to flood through kiara. “What were you talking to him about?”

You paused for a moment, dropping the eye contact the two of you were making.

“I broke up with him.”

Your friend let out a light gasp, hope entering her mind once again. “Oh.”

You just nodded, looking anywhere but at Kiara.

“May I ask why?”

Your response was simple.

You ran up to her and kissed her.

Finally.

Kiara was taken aback, but kissed back eagerly, so happy this was finally happening.

And when she was kissing you, everything was good.

Maybe changing the song was a good idea after all.

[myhaikyuuthings]

Getting Married

a angst continuation from my ‘tonight.. breakup hcs’ post

also fluff for Oikawa, it’ll be broken up between the two

oikawa x reader fluff & past ushijima x reader angst

oikawa’s song for this: here im just gonna say if you listen to any of the songs, i recommend this one. it is my favorite love song and made specifically for a wedding. i’ve cried many times to the thought of someone loving me the way the singer loves his wife

ushijima’s song for this: here

reader’s song: here

Your heart thumps against your ribcage as you hold your bouquet tightly in your hands.  You’re nervous, but in the best way. He is everything you have ever wanted, and you feel so lucky to have him. In just minutes, he will be yours forever. You make your way to the aisle, a small smile on your face. The music starts up and you take your first step from behind the curtain.

Oikawa turns to you, his face lighting up as he watches you walk towards him. He wipes at the tear rolling down his cheek, his smile brighter than the ceremony lights. You smile, holding back tears of your own. As you reach the altar, he takes your hand in his. 

“You look beautiful,” he sighs happily, not bothering to stop the tears from falling. “I’m so lucky to be marrying you.”

The officiant clears his throat, breaking up your moment with a small smile. “Shall we begin?” 

You try to listen as the officiant speaks, really you do but he looks too beautiful in front of you. You’re trapped in this blissful haze where Tooru is the only thing you see, feel, hear. The only thing that matters to you at this moment. The way his eyes are filled with so much love you feel undeserving for just a moment. How his hands hold yours tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll run away at the last moment. How absolutely breathtaking he looks in his suit, the happiness you can feel radiating off of him. You can tell from how he’s looking at you, that he feels the same. 

“Y/N?” he calls, snapping you from your trance with worry flashing in his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry I was distracted, what?” you stammer, blushing furiously as everyone laughs.

“I said, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the officiant chuckles, a knowing smile on his face. 

“Oh, yes I do, of course I do,” you answer quickly, not missing the sigh of relief that falls from the man before you. 

“And do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the officiant turns to Oikawa, barely managing to get the words out before he answers. 

“A million I do’s wouldn’t be enough to express how deeply I do,” he rushes, his hands shaking in yours. 

“Well, I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

You lost yourself in the feeling of his lips, your husbands lips. You had waited for this day for what felt like your entire life, and now that it’s here you couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. The two of you pulled back, resting your foreheads together. 

“I belong to you,” he whispers, bringing your hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss beside your wedding ring. 

“And I belong to you,” you whisper back, feeling the happiest you ever have. 

The reception is a whirl wind of congratulatory hugs and pictures with everyone. You find your eyes moving to him often, the two of you being separated for conversations here and there. Every time you look to him, his eyes are already on you. All too quickly, the two of you are swept onto the dance floor for your first dance. 

I refuse to grow older unless it's with you

You rest your head on his shoulder, swaying softly to the music. 

I fell in love and made you a promise though I'd never noticed how much it meant to you

He presses a  kiss to the top of your head, his arms tight around you. You smile against him, your heart feeling calm for the first time all day. He spins the two of you in a circle, your giggles lighting his entire being on fire. 

Yes they can see us but only at a glance only you know the man that I am beyond the surface i belong with you

His hands rest on your hips as the song comes to an end, guests filtering onto the floor around you. 

“I love you Y/N Oikawa,” his voice soft as he smiles down at you.

“I love you too Tooru Oikawa,” you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m the luckiest person in the world.”

“Oh i beg to differ, that title belongs to me,” he teases, his eyes lit with mischief. 

“Is our first fight as a married couple going to be who the luckier person is?” you ask, giggling at the look those around you are giving you. 

“If we only ever fight over who is luckiest, then I’ll die a happy man,” he decides, pulling you in for another kiss. 

You truly felt your happiest with him. It was amazing how much you could love someone in just three years. Many thought you two were rushing into things, but when you know you just know, and you knew Tooru was the one for you. From the moment he said your name, you knew and there was no going back from that. 

He hadn’t been invited to your wedding, not that this surprised him. But Tendou had, which wasn’t exactly a surprise either. His best friend had been the one to help put you back together after he destroyed your heart and he was forever grateful for the red head. He knew Tendou would post something with you and Oikawa, so he tried to stay off line. 

He went for a run to distract himself. He didn’t know you were getting married nearby, so when he ran past the venue and caught a glimpse of you through the window he nearly fell. You were in Oikawa’s arms, dancing and laughing together without a care in the world. He stood on the sidewalk, watching you two through the window as his heart shattered. 

It had been almost four years since the two of you broke up, three since you had made it official with the other man. He knew he wasn’t over you, that he probably never would be. But seeing you again after so long hurt more than he was prepared for. You looked happy. 

He took off once more, memories of the two of you playing in his head. The time you had laughed so hard you snorted after he let you attempt to put his hair in pigtails. The time you dragged him out for ice cream in the dead heat of summer, a child like innocence to your actions. It had been the very street you were now getting married on, that thought hitting him like a brick. 

You two had sat on the curb across from that venue, discussing how one day you would marry him there. He had been so sure your dreams would come true, but he ruined it. He was young but he thought the two of you were it, and now you’re getting married to someone else. 

He ran all the way home, his chest hollow. The thought of you in Oikawa’s hold was burned into his memory. The one thing he had been trying to avoid, it was funny in a very ironic way. It was as if the universe was reminding him, you were no longer his and you never would be again.

He opened up his phone, knowing your number had not changed. 

“It’s all my favorite numbers! Why would I ever change it,” he remembered you saying once. Your phone number had the dates of everyone in your family, and you were too sentimental to ever change it. 

Before he could process what he was doing, he was calling your number. It was late now, you had already left the venue. To his surprise, you answered. 

“Y/N Oikawa, may I ask who this is?” your voice was as sweet as he remembered, and his heart dropped at the realization you had deleted his contact. “Hello? Tooru-chan do you recognize this number? They aren’t answering.” 

He could hear the pout in your voice. He closed his eyes, knowing you were probably expecting a congratulations from someone, and instead he had called. He threw all sanity from the window, figuring he had nothing to lose. 

“Uh Y/N it’s Wakatoshi,” he cleared his throat, waiting patiently for your response. 

“Oh Ushijima, how are you?” Oikawa’s voice came through the phone. You probably had him on speaker phone. 

“I’m doing good, I just wanted to wish you two a happy marriage,” he lied, feeling the pieces of his heart being shattered into pieces no one could fix. 

“Thank you, I’m glad you’re doing well. We’re about to board the plane, but truly thank you,” he nearly cried at the sound of your voice. You sounded like you genuinely meant your words. How had you moved on so much that you could be happy for him being well? 

“Y/N may I ask you something, just us for a moment?” he asked, knowing this would be the last time he talked to you. 

“It’s okay, I’ll wait by the boarding gate okay?” he heard your husband, he nearly threw up at the realization, say and then the obvious sound of lips against skin.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice as gentle as the first time you spoke to him.

“Do you ever think of me?” he rushed, wincing at the sharp inhale from your end. “Do you ever dream we were meant to be? If i could have, I would have asked for one last dance. One last chance. If i knew you were getting married across from our old spot, I would have-”

“Ushijima,” you whispered, but he continued.

“I would have came in, and begged for you back. I would have, i messed up losing you.”

“Wakatoshi that’s enough,” your voice caught and he froze. “I am married, happily married. It’s been years. I don’t think of you anymore.”

“You don’t?” 

“No, I don’t, we were not meant for each other,” you sighed. “As much as I tried to convince myself of that when we were together, it’s not true. I’m happier with Tooru than I have ever been, there is no one better for me than him. And that includes you. I’m sorry but please don’t call me again.”

You hung up before he could respond. He stared down at the phone in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he broke down. He had truly lost you forever. 

[kooksbliss]

– finishing line || jjk

→ pairing: racer!jungkook x reader

→ genre: strangers to lovers / smut (future) / fluff (future) / street racer au!

→ word count: 6.1k

→ summary: it was a normal, ordinary night out with your best friend, or so you thought. that was before she invited you to a street race, to which you caved into and went. there you met the oh so famous, jeon jungkook. 

→ warnings: hoseok makes an appearance / explicit language / mutual pinning / jungkook makes oc a hot, shy mess / pet names / teasing / this chapter is pretty sfw 

a/n: hi hi hi! hope everyone is having an amazing day <3 this will be more than one part but i don’t think this will be a very long series (i’m thinking around five chapters max) leave me suggestions or any ideas you would like me to write in my ask box! i’m down to do drabbles anytime, hope you all enjoy part one!!

— posted 04.15.2020

masterlist new masterlists | 01 | sneak peek of part 02 | 

You were tired; no, you were drained. Working black friday was no easy task, especially when you work in retail. You stretched your arms as you exited the employee break room after a long awaited break. Once you got back to the sales floor you went up to the cash register to clock back in from your break that’s when you heard someone scoff beside you. 

“It’s about time.” Hyuna stated. 

Hyuna is a co-worker of yours that well, happens to hate you for no reason, no reason you're aware of. She had been working with the company a little over a year before you got employed over the summer and ironically was placed to be your supervisor, meaning you had to be nice to her if you wanted to keep your job. 

“Sorry, Jaehyun needed some help with the stock.” You said as you punched your employee number into the system.

Jaehyun was also a supervisor but for the men’s department, he has been a close friend of yours since you started working here and knows about how Hyuna tends to treat you, unfortunately there's not much any of the two of you can do about it. 

“Well next time come straight out, Jaehyun is a big boy he can take care of himself. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll be going on my break.” She said as she walked past you making sure to hit your right shoulder in the process. You looked up at the clock, thirty more minutes just thirty more minutes, you had been working for who knows how long and your feet had been begging for a rest.

Luckily since it was five in the morning there weren't too many people left in the store, but one thing you did know was that your sleeping schedule is fucked after tonight. Suddenly the chime sound from the bell that hung above the door rang out, you looked away from the clock about to greet the person who walked in, well that was until you saw who it was - to which you responded with a roll of your eyes.

“Come on don’t give me that look, y/n! You know you love me~”

“Jennie left about an hour ago, Hoseok.” 

Jennie is your best friend, you two have been friends since middle school and once her family moved next door, there was no separating the two of you. When you both graduated high school you both thought that it would be good for the both of you to have a change of scenery from the small town you lived in, that’s when you made the comment of moving out into the city, which Jennie happily agreed to. 

Jennie is from a wealthier family compared to your own she could afford going to university straight out of high school you on the other hand, didn’t have the financial support so you got this job and plan to work for another year or two before deciding on whether or not you are financially well off to go to university. She decided to move into an on-campus dorm while you found a decently well priced house, that was near your workplace and not too far from everything else, it’s been a year since you two decided to move into the city and you have loved every second of it, life was good.

“Actually I’m here for you, Jennie felt bad not being able to take you home after your shift so she asked me if I could.” Hoseok said as he walked to the side opposite of you at the checkout table.

Hoseok is Jennie’s boyfriend, they’ve been together for about eight months now and met in one of her classes freshman year. You're so glad she met him, you've never seen her happier and you know he’s good for her. As for you not being able to drive, well - a month ago some dickhead rear ended you and you’ve been waiting to see how much his insurance will cover, so you’ve been taking the bus a lot and thankfully your friends - well Jennie, has been taking you to work which is really the only place you go to outside of your house. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks Hoseok, you didn’t have to.” You said feeling bad about him having to be up at five am to take you home.

“It’s no problem, y/n! You know I’m someone you can count on.” Hoseok said as he walked around the store. “You still have thirty mintues right?”

“Yeah, sorry for making you wait.” 

“Y/n. I already said it wasn't a problem. Anyways I wanted to start my Christmas shopping early.”

As you were about to respond a lady came to the cash register.

Your shift was finally over, you clocked out and grabbed your coat from the back thankfully you didn't run into Hyuna, which is a win in your book. You caught up with Hoseok, who was waiting for you near the entrance. 

“You ready?” Hoseok asked as he looked up from his phone.

“Yep!” You exclaimed as you two left the store, looking down at his hands you noticed that he did in fact buy some things. 

Walking across the parking lot you held your coat closer to your body, the crisp November air was chilly especially in the morning. “Thank you again Hoseok.” 

“Of course, y/n. Do you want anything before we head back?”

You were hungry but, you were just too tired to put that before your sleep. “No, that’s okay I’m super tired from tonight.” Hoseok just nodded as you two reached his car, he clicked the door open and the two of you got in. It felt really nice to sit down, your legs were aching and you wanted nothing more than to lay in your bed and sleep the rest of the day away. 

The ride to your house was nice the two of you caught up and made small talk, soon you were arriving at your house. “Well, thanks for the ride! Be sure to have a safe drive back home.” 

“Of course y/n, I’ll be sure to text Jennie to tell her you made it back home safely and that I didn’t kill you.” He joked. You smiled back as you wished him a good night - well morning. Unlocking the door to your house you quickly took your shoes off and entered your bathroom where you took a quick shower, changing into your sweats and t-shirt entering your bedroom. Charging your phone you placed it on your bedside table as you laid down, sleep slowly consuming your thoughts. 

Feeling the sunlight pour into your bedroom you slowly began to wake up. Sitting up you stretch your arms up into the air and reach over to check your phone as the time reads “3:00”. You moan and groan but finally got up to do something productive for the rest of the Friday you had left. You were looking forward to the relaxing weekend you had planned ahead since you got a bit of a break from work as you didn’t have to go until Monday. 

Doing your typical morning routine you went to the kitchen to make an omelet, grabbing your phone off the counter you put your music on shuffle and started making your dish while dancing and singing along to the song.

Once you were done cooking you gave yourself a pat-on-the-back for not burning the house down. Pouring yourself a glass of juice while sitting down on the barstool you started eating your meal while scrolling down your feed liking some memes.

Ping.

You then got a message from Jennie.

You did say you wanted to be productive but really, now all you wanted to do is binge watch your show and wait for your outing with jennie.

Looking at your phone the time read “6:23” you finished the last few minutes of your show and turned off your tv and went to get ready. After you had dressed casually in booties, jeans, sweater, coat and your purse you topped your look off with light makeup. Opening the the bus app you see when the next bus would be coming and headed towards the stop near your house. 

The sun was already setting making you feel uneasy, you weren’t normally out at this time in the dark and definitely not alone. You sped up and felt your nerves calm once you reached the crowded area of the city. 

Waiting for the bus you sat on the bench and got your phone out of your pocket to check where the bus was, saying it was three minutes away.

Once the bus stopped, you got on, paid the amount and walked towards the back and sat down waiting for the stop that was closest to the restaurant. 

You arrived at the restaurant after walking about ten minutes from where the bus had left you at. You called Jennie to ask if she was already there since it was 7:15. She said that she got caught up in traffic and would be there soon and to go ahead and get a table. 

You went inside feeling your once cold cheeks warm up with the heat of the atmosphere, sounds filled your ears and the restaurant's signature dish scent reached your nose. It was busy as usual, you walked up to the main table to get a table for two, the hostess seated you in a booth towards the back. 

“WHAT?” You shouted in the middle of the restaurant causing many bystanders to give you the side eye. “Shush! Lower your voice, y/n!” Jennie whispered loudly.

Jennie had arrived around thirty minutes ago and the two of you had been chatting it up and she suddenly dropped a huge bomb on you. 

“...Wait, so Hoseok is a-”

“A street racer, yeah.” She started, “I know it sounds totally crazy and I know how you steer away from those sorts of things but, you know he’s a good guy a-and it’s been killing me not telling you.”

You stayed silent, never did you ever think that Hoseok was a racer and your mind was still trying to comprehend everything your friend was telling you. 

“And the reason why I’m telling you is because - now y/n don’t freak out or close yourself out but,” biting her bottom lip she continued, “ I wanted you to go to one of the races with me. It’s been killing me having this secret from you, and that’s only if you want to go! I’m not trying to force you either...”

You were not expecting this at all. Your friend was dating a street racer… and now she’s inviting you to one of their very much illegal races. What should you say? You want to say no you really do, it’s not your scene, plus you really just wanted to relax this weekend. 

“When is it?” You finally spoke after a good minute of silence.

“Tomorrow night.” Jennie responded, “Y/n, I just wanted to tell you about Hoseok, and he told me I should ask you if you wanted to go with us. You don’t have to say yes, and there's many more races anyways if you do decide to want to come to one.” 

You thought about what she said, and were happy that they would even think to invite you. “I’ll - I’ll think about and let you know for tomorrow if that’s alright.” 

“Yes of course y/n! Take your time. Anyways did I tell you about what my chemistry professor said yesterday? He totally was like-”

You got lost into your thoughts as you thought about what she said, normally if someone were to ask you to go to a street race you would’ve said no on the spot but for some strange reason you did want to go but you know you shouldn’t.

“Like, that’s just so rude to say and I don’t even understand why he would bring that up in the first place!” Jennie sighed.

The two of you spent the rest of the night gossiping about each of your co-workers as well as the show you were watching, but in the back of your mind you kept thinking about what she said. 

Jennie took you back home and you two wished each other goodnight. 

Walking into your house you went to your bathroom and did your nighttime routine, changed into some pjs and you promised yourself you were just going to watch two more episodes of your show. Did that happen? No, of course not. What you did however is manage to fall asleep on the couch. 

Waking up with an awful cramp in your neck you arose from the couch with a groan. “Gosh I really shouldn’t have slept on the couch.” You spoke to yourself. Today you weren’t feeling up to cook so you just had your favorite cereal and texted Jennie.

Looking down at your phone you sighed. Should you go? A part of you really wants to know about the racing scene and to see. You needed some thrill in your life and maybe this is it, this is your chance. 

You may have seemed cool, calm, and collected over text but in reality you were freaking out. You just agreed you were going to a street race in less than thirteen hours when your previous plans were to binge watch the show you’ve been watching for another season, a lot more tame for what you're now signing yourself onto. But for some reason you did want to go - it's been a long time since you've gone out anywhere else outside of your work. 

Your thoughts were racing, maybe it won't be as bad as you think it is, maybe the media just exaggerates what the reality is, maybe it’s actually super lame. You tried to make yourself feel better about your decision but you can’t help the anxious feeling inside your lower stomach.

It’s 9:49 pm and you've been staring at your closet for the last two hours, at least that’s what it felt like - it was really more like ten minutes, but still! What were you supposed to wear to these kind of things? 

You supposed wearing black is the most common thing, at least you hoped. You digged into your closet and found a pair of high waisted black joggers with vertical lines on the sides of them, a black halter, some all white sneakers and a large oversized jean jacket.  You then went to your bathroom and tried to make yourself somewhat presentable, with some light makeup and styled your hair to your liking. 

You checked your phone for the time “10:42” you felt your heart accelerate, you were excited, nervous, and anxious all at once. 

One minute soon became two, then three, and soon it was already 11:00. Your nerves were on edge. Suddenly your phone rang and you flew up three feet in the air, with shaky hands you picked up your phone Jennie’s contact lit up the screen and you answered. 

“Hey Jennie!” You said trying to sound excited to hide your nerves.

“Hey! I’m outside! Oh, and make sure to bring your ID.” 

“O-okay sure thing!” You said as you began to awkwardly laugh. You grabbed your phone and your small wallet that you slipped into the front pocket of your joggers since you didn’t want to take a purse. 

Well here goes nothing. 

After driving for what seemed like 20 minutes from your house you arrived in a secluded area where there was a pay toll like entrance and a huge line of cars wanting to go in.

“Uh, Jennie? How many people actually come to these things?” You said being genuinely surprised by how many people are lined up behind the entrance. 

“Hm. I don’t really know the exact numbers but it varies to who actually races, if they’re a fan favorite, a newbie, stuff like that.”

You supposed that made sense but still you didn’t think that there would be so many people, you’re assuming that Hoseok and his friends are fan favorite racers. 

It took 15 minutes from you two to make it to the pay toll.

“IDs?” A deep voice rang out. 

Jennie waited for you to get yours out of your wallet and then handed the man both IDs. He checked the two and looked back up at the both of you, then handed Jennie two white bands, as well as the IDs.

“Thank you.” Jennie said as the toll’s gate rose up and drove off, 

“This is so exciting! How are you feeling y/n?”

How are you feeling? You really didn’t know, it was a strange feeling that’s for sure.

“Good, just… nervous.” You softly chuckled as you looked down at your hands that you curled on your lap.

“That’s totally understandable, I was too when I came to see the first race. I wanted to be a supportive girlfriend but I actually ended up liking it.” Jennie said as the two of you arrived at a graveled parking lot, there were cars parked everywhere and you could hear the distant sound of people talking and the car's engines.

“Here you’ll need to put this on.” Jennie said as she put the white band on your wrist and you did the same for her. 

“Thanks.” You said as the two of you got out of the car.

The cold crisp air nipped at your cheeks as soon as you got out. You hugged the jacket closer to your body and met up with Jennie on the other side of the car.

“Okay! Let’s go!” Jennie said as she looped her arm around yours.

After walking for about four minutes you reached a huge crowd of people, once you two had successfully made it past the crowd you could now see the large narrow street that disappeared into the distance.

Jennie then started walking towards the left where there were a lot less people, and stood two large men in front of a pathway.

“Uh, Jennie?” You said as you cuddled closer to her - what is she doing?

“I’m with Hoseok.” Jennie ignored your questioning and spoke to the men.

“What’s the code?” Said the man on the right. Jennie then whispered what you assumed to be the code to one of the men, they both looked at each other and spread apart making room for the two of you to continue walking on the pathway. 

“Uh, what was that about? Where are we even going?” You asked Jennie once you two were a good distance from the men.

“Sorry if that freaked you out, but basically where we are going is like the VIP area for the racers and those are the bodyguards, the racers are the only ones that know the code but they can tell people too, which is why I know it because of Hoseok.” Jennie said as you two approahed two buildings, one was like an open pit stop area for the cars and the other was like a clubhouse - they really take this street racing seriously huh?

“Oh, I see. So do all the racers hang out over here?” You said as you started hearing the sounds of people getting louder and louder. 

“Yep! Hoseok is probably in his car now, getting ready for his race against Jungkook.” 

Jungkook? That name was unfamiliar to you. 

“Who’s Jungkook?” You said a bit confused.

“Oh! That’s right I forget that you don't know him, well you can meet him after the race,” She said pulling her phone out checking the time, “It’s already 12:27? The race starts in three minutes!” Jennie exclaimed and grabbed your arm taking you to the pit stop area. 

Entering the pit stop area there were a lot of people inside making the once quiet outdoors loud with excitement. You then noticed that each of the racers had their own separate rooms and the people inside were either the guests or the actual pit crew of the racer, well it’s good to know they actually have proper protection and safety. 

The racers had a gold plaque above the open room that they were in, Hoseok’s was the fourth room and you happened to notice that Jungkook’s was right next to Hoseok’s. 

“Come on y/n it’s about to start, I’m so excited!!” Jennie pulled your arm onto a couch that was placed in Hoseok’s room. A loud engine sound rang out making you jump up in your seat, it sounded so close you didn’t realise how close you actually were to the street. 

The cars were not in your view of distance yet but you could hear just how close they were, then you saw two cars one red and one black stop right in front of the room you were in. 

Out of nowhere a very slim, tall girl dressed in basically swimwear and heels holding two flags stood in the middle of the two cars, just seeing what she was dressed in made you shiver. An abrupt voice from an intercom then broke the silence.

“Welcome, welcome ladies and gentlemen, hope everyone is doing well on this cool November night. Tonight’s race is a treat for all of you, we got two of our hottest, favorite racers but I’m sure the lot of you already know that. These two don’t need any sort of introduction, of course I’m talking about Jung Hoseok-” the crowd roared out, cheers and screams rang, you felt your eardrums were going to burst. “And Jeon Jungkook.” If possible you heard the crowd scream even louder. 

“Now, let’s get this race started shall we?” The intercomer’s voice faded out and the girl lifted the two flags, “three, two, one!” She said as she lowered the flags. 

The two cars then accelerated passed her, you got up from the couch and moved to the opening of the room and saw the two cars faintly in the distance.

“They go super fast don’t they? I think Hoseok said something about going 130 mph.” That actually scared you - the fast you’ve ever gone was like 90.

“Dang, and how long does it take for them to come back?” You said as you looked down at the black and white checkered finish line that was a couple feet away from you. 

“Hm, it depends really but it usually takes eight to ten minutes. But in the meantime I like getting some snacks while I wait.” She said turning around to go to the popcorn machine that was next to the couch.

You were still looking towards the distance when you happened to look over to Jungkook’s room, there were at least five girls inside, one of which made eye contact with you and flipped you off, you quickly looked away and met up with Jennie again on the couch.

“So uh, this Jungkook guy? He seems to be a ladies man.” You said while reaching over to steal some of her popcorn.

“Hey! Well yeah, he most definitely is. Why do you ask?” Jennie’s eyes suddenly lit up as she smirked, “Y/n are you trying to get laid? I mean I thought you would be one to wait but I mean Jungkook probably wouldn’t mind fucking a virg-”

“Woah, woah Jennie!” You say as your cheeks and ears start getting red. “N-no well I - well for one I’m not a virgin! And two I asked because when I happened to look over to his room there were a lot of girls but also this one girl gave me her middle finger!” You said in almost a pouty matter. 

“Wait, you’re not a virgin? Not that it’s a bad thing if you are but, you never told me that you lost your virginity.” Jennie said a bit surprised and honestly you don’t blame her. Anyone who knows you probably thinks you haven't got a freaky bone in your body. “But as far as the girl who flipped you off - that was probably Lisa for some reason she thinks that her and Jungkook are together when he himself has made it clear that he’s not into her in that way. She even got jealous of me before she found out I was with Hoseok and not Jungkook.” 

“Oh, then maybe that’s why she flipped me off, but I don’t even know him. A-and about that I uh, lost it the night of junior prom with my date.” You said looking anywhere but her, for some reason you always get shy talking about sexual things, also you didn’t see the hype around it your first time wasn’t as magical as you thought it would have been and people hyped sex up so much you just thought it would be different, you didn’t even climax!

“Oh well maybe you can tell me about it at a better time-” The sound cars’ engines could be heard again and Jennie jumped up. 

“Come on! Let’s see who’s in the lead!” Grabbing your arm the two of you stepped into the open area of the room to where you can see the cars in the distance but on the opposite of which they started. The black car seemed to be the one in the lead but not by much.

In a matter of seconds it seemed, the two cars then passed the finish line, but it was so close that neither you or Jennie could tell who won.

“Well, well, well ladies and gentlemen it seems that this race was indeed a close one, but winning by three seconds more, Jeon Jungkook won tonight’s race. Be sure to stick around to see your favorite racers, that’s all for tonight folks have a good night.” The intercomer wished his goodnights and what was left was the cheers from the crowd. 

The sound of the car door opening reverted your attention to the two racers, Hoseok was the first one to come out of the red one, that meant that Jungkook’s was the black one. You and Jennie waved over to Hoseok as he smiled and waved back.

You looked over to the black car once again only to see the girls you saw in the room along with Lisa were swarming him before he even got a chance to get out. Then you heard the car door opening and you felt the world stop.

Jungkook removed his helmet as he flashed a smile and one of the girls, the one you were told was Lisa then wrapped her arms around him. Then you felt your heart in your throat, he looked at you at least you think he looked at you, regardless you blushed and looked away from what seemed to be his stare directed towards you. 

Hoseok then came up to Jennie and kissed her, “Honey, that was a close good race, but you did good.” Jennie said with a smile.

“Thank you, baby.” He said as he leaned back down to plant another kiss on her lips. You felt so awkward, it was like you were third wheeling, you just looked at the ground trying not to make eye contact with your best friend’s makeout session.

“Okay, okay we get it lovebirds.” An unfamiliar voice said, causing you to look up.

And there he was. Jungkook was absolutely breathtaking, you never thought that someone could look this good close up. You were so mesmerized that you didn’t realize you were staring.

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you it was rude to stare, sweetheart?” Jungkook said to you to which you didn’t even reply until you felt Jennie’s and Hoseok’s eyes on you too.

“O-oh I’m sorry.” You said looking down, this is why you don’t go out, you just don’t fit in. You were jizzing your pants just looking at the man who doesn’t want anything to do with you, or even knows your name as a matter of fact. 

“Aw, sweetie that’s alright. No need to get all shy on me, I don’t bite unless-”  

“Jungkooookie!~” Lisa ran up to the group cutting off whatever Jungkook was going to say and hung onto him, “That was such a good race! I knew you would win, no offense Hoseok.” 

“Yeah, none take-” Hoseok started but Lisa, you supposed has a habit of cutting people off.

“So Jungkookie, do you want to go out for dinner with me? It can be a celebratory thing, I even have dessert for you whenever we get to your place.” She said as she sent a wink his way. You could only imagine what she meant making your face red with the thought.

“Actually I might have to cancel-” He answered, removing her arms around his torso. “I was thinking about going with Hoseok, Jennie and-” He paused looking to you. “What’s your name sweetheart, I’ve never seen you around here?” 

You felt your heart stuck in your throat anytime he would even breathe in your direction, the more seconds passed the more you felt yourself grow hot.

“I-it’s y/n.” You said as you mentally slapped yourself for stuttering. “And uh, it’s my first time to a race.”

Jungkook hummed. “Ah, I see. What a pretty name for such a pretty girl.” He said with such sincerity, looking straight into your eyes. You really thought you were going to faint, was he really saying this to you? 

“You're joking. Jungkook, there’s no way you would rather go with them, her, rather than going with me?” He didn’t answer but instead kept staring at you, while you just stared back with wide eyes. 

“Jungkook!” He finally tugged his eyes away from you as Lisa exclaimed and pulled onto his arm.

“Actually I think I would, and I will. Maybe another time hm?” Jungkook said as he looked over to Hoseok. “What do you say? Want to treat me to a celebratory dinner, loser.” He said in a joking matter directed to Hoseok.

“Since you won and I’m such a good friend, I’ll treat you for tonight.” Hoseok said.

“Great-” Jungkook started, “You’re coming right y/n?”

“O-oh I don’t - it’s late a-and-” 

“She’d love to, Jungkook.” Jennie jumped in, you gave her “the look” to which she ignored. “What? Come on, you were taking some of my popcorn earlier, surely you're hungry.”

She was right you were hungry but just thinking about being in a room with Jungkook made you already want to die in a hole from embarrassment, you don't even know the guy and he has such an impact on you. 

“Fine, fine. I’ll go too.” You said still looking at Jennie missing the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up. 

“Uh, what about me Jungkookie? I thoug-” Lisa started, 

“Actually Lisa, can we have a rain check? I want to spend some time with my friends.” 

“Ugh, whatever. You know where to find me when reality hits you.” Lisa said looking at you as she rolled her eyes and walked away with a huff.

“Sounds good, let’s all meet at the restaurant. Jungkook you drove here right?” Jennie asked.

“I did, I drove Hoseok here as well.” Jungkook answered. 

“Hm, well Hoseok can come with me and, y/n, why don’t you go with Jungkook?”

Your eyes almost just shot out of your eyes, was she serious? You’d rather go with them and feel like a third-wheel rather than go in a vehicle alone, with him. You could already see it, you making a fool of yourself.

You felt everyone’s eyes on you as they awaited your response. But you didn’t want to be rude and it’s just a 20 minute car ride, it won’t be that bad, at least you hoped. 

“Uh, yeah sure, if he doesn’t mind.” You said looking over to him only finding him already looking at you. You felt your heart rate increase, something about how he looks at you makes you feel strange, and you couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

“Of course I don’t mind babygirl.” He saids with a slight smirk walking towards you whereas you felt yourself heat up with the pet name. “Now, shall we?” 

The walk to Jungkook’s car was short and quiet, maybe he came to the earth revolving revelation that you really weren’t that special and that he’s wasting his time. Being captivated in your thoughts you didn’t even notice that Jungkook, who was beside you, stopped walking.

“Woah, woah babygirl, are you already trying to escape?” Jungkook said with a chuckle. 

“Huh?” You turned around with a confused expression painted onto your face. You then noticed that he stopped at a parked car with keys in his hands. “W-well how was I supposed to know this was your car!” You said walk towards his car.

Jungkook put his hands up against his chest as a surrender, “Yes, you’re right, my fault.” Walking to the other side of the car you open the door still very nervous due to the fact that you’re about to be in a confined space with him.

Whipping around to put your seatbelt on, you felt your phone vibrate, causing you to accidentally drop it in the cup holder between the two of you. Reaching over to get your phone, Jungkook did the same thing causing the two of you to rub your hands against each other. “S-sorry.” You said as you pulled your hand away, still feeling his hand lingering next to yours, it’s almost scary how your body reacts towards him. Man you really needed to get laid again. 

“No worries it is your phone after all.” Jungkook said as he held your phone up, he didn’t mean to look down at your phone but he just happened to, “Hm, who’s Kyle?” Kyle… Kyle??! Why is he messaging you, you grabbed the phone out of his hand and looked down at the message. Just a simple “Hey” was displayed on your screen, why is he messaging you after all these years?

“Oh, he’s nobody just someone I went to high school prom with, I really don’t know why he’s messaging me.” You said as you looked down confused at your phone, but decided not to respond. 

“So do you know where we’re going?” Jungkook rang out, “Oh! Not yet but let me text Jennie.” You responded. As you waited for her response you felt this awkward tension as you looked at the plain grassy field in front of you. “So, uh Jungkook?” You said turning to look towards him, “What got you into racing?”

“Hm, we haven’t even gone out and you’re already asking for my life’s story?” You suddenly felt super invasive, “Sorry I didn’t mean to seem nosy.” You said as you look away, staring back towards the field. You felt cold fingertips graze the side of your right cheek as Jungkook turned you to look towards him. “You didn’t babygirl, I just- don’t really like to talk about it.” He said as he stares at you, you begin to blush, surely he could feel it as his hands are gripping your face. You felt electric, you never met someone that had such an effect on you and you didn’t really know why. You knew you really have, but you just couldn’t resist as your eyes moved down from his eyes and onto his lips, he must have seen this as he then began to move towards you.

“J-jungkook…” He stops moving and just stares into you, removing his hands away. Jungkook cleared his throat looking straight on as you stayed in the same position, shocked. You almost just kissed a man you didn’t even know, it’s strange - you don’t even know him yet it feels so right being with him. Maybe it was only you that felt this way but you could have sworn you could see a rosy hue on his cheeks. 

Ping. 

You felt your phone vibrate as you got another message, this time from Jennie.  

You choked on your own spit as you read the message in your head, you were going to kill her.

“Woah, what’s wrong are you okay?” Jungkook said as he looked over to you, “Y-yeah uh, Jennie said that something came up so it’s just us two, y-you can just drop me off if you like. We don’t have to do anything-”

“Y/n. It’s fine, I don’t mind, really.” He said as he put the car in reverse, “Now, let’s go get something to eat babygirl.” 

taglist: @krystle1990, @lurkerarmy​, @olivialovemason88​ @eclivpses @hinawariinoue97 @chimshoe95​ — (let me know if you would like to be added!)

© kooksbliss - all rights reserved

[lavenderslemonade]

Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a midoriya, Baku, Todo, and shinso reaction to their "innocent" s/o having nipple piercings? I get a lot of crap for wanting them cause I don't fit the personality type, but they're so pretty!

Sure thing!

(Sorry for not posting in a while! Currently working on a commission and another request!)

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Slight NSFW, Nipple Piercings 

Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki and Shinso Reaction to an Innocent S/O With Nipple Piercings (Slight NSFW)

Midoriya

- The two of you had been the cinnamon rolls of class A throughout all three years of high school together. At the beginning of the school year as first years both of your personalities just seemed to click, making it hard to separate the two of you, much to Bakugous annoyance. 

- You were a ball of sunshine to say the least. Never really swearing, always dressing quite modestly, much to the displeasure of Denki and Mineta. However, with the two of you both being rather innocent people, mean’t that it took a while for the two of you to get past the innocent phase of your relationship.

- As the end of your third year approached, it mean’t that the two of you would be thrown into the world of hero’s as well as adulthood. The two of you had been scouted by many hero agency’s, requesting meetings with you through the school. 

- This basically gave the two of you no time together, seeing as almost everyone was busy now. Thus the closes thing the two of you could get to being intimate, was watching a movie for about five minutes and cuddling, before passing out due to pure exhaustion. However, after every storm comes the sun.

- No more meetings and a whole weekend to yourselves. It honestly sounded like heaven, and thus it was. Midoriya insisted taking you out on a date, which you happily agreed to. Spending the day walking around town, trying different street vendors, even getting a few photos with a few fans that you’d pass. 

- It was that night when he found out about your little secret. Deciding to end the night with a movie in Midoriyas room, you weren’t surprised nor disappointed when the movie got ignored for the entertainment of Midoriya’s lips against yours. Anxiously his hands would rest on your hips, before moving up to slip under your shirt.

- You didn’t complain when his hands landed on your breast, a soft moan escaping your lips at his touch. However, you were surprised when he stopped. “Is uh, everything okay?” You’d ask a bit nervously as he just stared down at your clothed breasts. “I, um, please don’t get offended, but I feel something hard on your nipples.” He’d state, face as red as a tomato.

- It’d take you a hot minute to process what he just asked, before it finally clicked in your head. “Oh!” You’d state a bit surprised before smiling. You’d casually grab the ends of your shirt and lift it along with your bra, nearly giving the boy a heart attack. He’d look away not wanting to make the situation more embarrassing.

- “Izuku, you were literally just groping them so don’t go shy on me now. Just look!” You’d whine, causing him to finally, yet awkwardly, shift his gaze to your breasts. That’s when he sees your nipple piercings. He’d be a bit stunned at first like, wondering when you even got them.

- You admit that one night you had went out with some of the girls from class and lost a bet about a year ago. He just kinda tries to process that you went through with getting them pierced. Since then he’s honestly intrigued with them. He likes to see how sensitive they are whenever he touches them. He also likes the cute sounds you make when he brushes his thumb against them during a make out session.

- He actually got you a pair of pretty green piercings a few days after graduation as a gift. If he see’s a pair he thinks you’d like when patrolling, he’d buy them and keep them hidden till he can surprise you with them. 

Bakugou

- When you started dating these explosive boy of the 1-A class during your first year, you’d have to be lying if you didn’t say your class was shook. Sure he’d snap at you, but it was a different type of snapping than what he does to the rest of the class. He’d yell and go off on just about anybody, however when it came to you he’d simply flick your head or ruffle your hair before stating that you didn’t need to do something or you’d get hurt, or you were being annoying by doing this and that.

- The two of you had your share of fights, however he’d always feel like crack when staring down at your upset and pouting face. How did you bring yourself to agree to date someone as angry and loud as him again? Though, the two of you remained strong throughout high school. With summer around the corner, obviously a few of your old classmates would want to go to the beach, inviting you and Bakugou along.

- He was against it, however when you randomly showed up at his apartment door in a cute swimsuit he had a hard time saying no. Thus how he ended up under an umbrella watching as his old classmates played volleyball, with his arm draped around your shoulders. 

- He finds out when he takes note that you still haven’t taken off your shirt, only opting to keep your pants off. He’d tug at the fabric stating it’s too hot to wear that shit, but you insisted on keeping it on. He’d be skeptical, thus when the two of you get in the taxi to head back to his place, he can’t help but scope out your neck, thinking that maybe you were hiding some mark.

- But you wouldn’t cheat on him, he knew better. It wasn’t till you got back to his apartment and closed the door that he insisted you take your top off. You’d just kinda blink and stare at him as if he’d grown two heads. He knows somethings up and wants to see what you’re hiding. 

- However, you refused, which ended with him chasing you around the apartment to try and get you to take off your shirt. Finally he’d tackle you onto the couch and lift up the top, his cheeks turning to a soft pink as he takes in your nipples slightly poking through the fabric of the swimsuit top. However, he also took note of the piercings. “Were you seriously trying to hide nipple piercings from me?! When the hell did you even get these?!” He’s ask, meanwhile you were still processing that you’d been caught.

- You’d state that the hero you worked for had some, and you thought it’d be cool to get some as well. Honestly he thinks it’s hot af, thus state he’s not complaining that you’d gotten them, just wish you’d told him. He takes note that they’re still pretty sensitive since you just got them about a week ago, so he’ll try his best to help with the healing process, even if it means not getting to touch your sweet sweet breasts for a while. 

- However, once you have to all clear, he loves groping your breasts and pinching your nipples from behind to catch you off guard. You bought chain nipple piercings one time as well as new lingerie to surprise Bakugou when he got home, and boy what a night that was. Like Midoriya he’d buy you different piercings you’d seem to like or that he thought you’d like when patrolling or just strolling around town.

Todoroki 

- The two of you had gotten together around your second year, not much to the surprise of your class. You were always together at school and outside of school. He’d help you with training, carrying books to classrooms you needed to run by, you’d always be there to help patch him up after training. Honestly, you were basically the mom/big sister of class A throughout the years. 

- Once you graduate, the two of you move in together and honestly it’s heaven for Todoroki. The two of you usually get home at the same time, one of you will take a shower while the other one cooks depending on who’s turn it is. However, if it’s a really rough day the two of you will bathe together and just order take out. Usually your nights end with the two of you cuddling in bed, watching a movie, reading, or getting frisky. 

- He’s surprised when one day you just seem kinda jumpy. He takes it as you not getting enough rest and offers to cook that night while you bathe first. However, thus jumpy attitude of yours goes on for quite a while. A whole week to be exact. He becomes a bit concerned since when he tries to cuddle you you state that you’re feeling too hot or cold to cuddle, but like, he can literally adjust his body temperature for you. 

- He finds out one day after coming home. You haven’t been as jumpy anymore, however you still kinda shy away when he tries to get intimate with you. He finally reaches his breaking point one night when he wants to snuggle, however to no surprise do you shy away. He just sits up much to your surprise and asks if something is wrong. 

- You try to laugh it off like he’s being silly, however the hard stare he’s giving you says your plan isn’t working. That’s when you finally shift and awkwardly lip up your night shirt to reveal your piercings. He just kinda stares. You’ve been denying cuddles and sex because of nipple piercings? You’d kinda just awkwardly glance around the room waiting to hear what he has to say. However, you’re taken back when he pulls you close and presses his lips against yours. 

- He can tell that they’re still a bit red, thus he gently gropes your breasts, pressing his cold thumbs against your nipples. You can’t help but shudder and moan. Most nights now since your piercings have officially healed and aren’t as sensitive anymore, Todoroki will fall asleep with one hand around your waist, or one of his hands just lazily groping one of your breasts. 

- Would buy you snowflakes nipple piercings with real jewels in them. Low-key likes to see the outline of your piercings when you’re wearing a tight shirt indoors or through your bikini top. 

Shinso

- After graduation the two of you ended up at the same hero agency together working as side kicks. He remembers you from UA, how you got along with everyone and just gave off a pure aura. Any time Monoma made a sly remark towards you, you always just seemed so unphased by it, or just didn’t understand. 

- The two of you become good friends working alongside each other, going out for drinks after work, going to the movies together, meet and greets, etc. It wasn’t till the day you slid a small piece of paper towards him with “Would you like to go on a date?” as if the two of you were in high school again. 

- He’d check the yes box, and thus your future was sealed. Wednesdays and Fridays were you date nights, and if you didn’t have work on Saturdays either of you would sleep over at the others apartment. Since the hero you worked for found out the two of you dated now, they’d usually try to schedule you both to have the same days off or to go on patrol together. 

- Some hero’s would worry about the two of you goofing on, but the hero you worked for knew you took your jobs seriously and wouldn’t disappoint them. Shinso finds out about your nipple piercings the first time the two of you are intimate. Everything got heated one Friday night when the two of you found out you didn’t have work the next day. 

- He had groped your breasts and was surprised to feel the piercings through your dress. You seem a bit embarrassed having been caught and just kinda shifted away. However, Shinso wanted to see what you were hiding. Thus, he convinced you to show your secret little piercings and honestly he found it to be pretty hot. The sweet innocent girl he knew throughout high school with such a personal naughty secret. 

- Shinso would most likely have a piercing of his own, possibly a tongue piercing. Thus he’d wear it around you more, which helped you feel a bit more secure about your own piercings. He’d went into a store one time and found a beautiful amethyst tongue piercing, and they happened to have a matching pair of nipple piercings as well. Thus he got the two of you a match set of piercings.

- When the two of you are having sex he loves to feel your piercings press against his chest as he thrusts into you. He also loves the way you moan when he brushes his own piercing against your tongue while groping at your breasts and playing with your piercings through your shirt.  

[baroquebucky]

Just some simple fluff from soft!bucky please. I haven’t came across many lately, asking for a friend. ❤️❤️❤️

a/n: ofc !!!!! this ended up turning into one of my favorite things I’ve written i hope u enjoy !!

It was gonna be a slow day today, you could tell by the way the street was quiet, soft city noises coming from outside and into your shared apartment.

You knew it was gonna be a good day because it was 10:52 am and bucky was still snuggled into your side, breathing softly and steadily with his arm wrapped around your waist. You smiled at the way his hair had frizzed up slightly, the way he had a couple strands in his face and tickling his nose, making him scrunch it up every couple of minutes to try and move it.

Slowly you shifted so that you could sit up against the head board, of course bucky stirred a bit, waking up in the process but you coaxed him to go back to sleep, running your fingers through his hair and gently massaging his scalp. Within seconds he was back to sleep, a small snore excaling his lips at times.

You couldn’t bring yourself to move, Bucky rarely got days to sleep in, he was always so adamant about going on missions with everyone, wanting to prove himself. Everyone had assured him he had nothing prove but he insisted it was for his own peace of mind.

Soon enough you had drifted back off to sleep, your fingers still tangled in buckys hair as his head rested in your lap. The sound of honking woke you up, causing you to jump a little, looking over at the clock you realized it was almost 12, and you and bucky had yet to do anything.

Bucky was still asleep, you felt bad waking him so as quietly as you could you slipped out of bed, going through your morning routine. Bucky wondered into the kitchen as you were pouring him a bowl of cereal, sitting right in front of you.

“good morning buck” you smiled and flashed you a grin, quickly cut off by a yawn, “g’mornin’ doll” he spoke through the yawn, giving you a lop sides grin and you shook your head at him.

“didn’t feel like cooking so i hope cereal is okay” you spoke, putting a spoon in the bowl and sliding it over the counter in front of the super soldier. You grabbed your own bowl, quickly pouring the cereal and milk and sitting next to him.

“darling you could serve me burnt eggs and I’ll eat them happily as long as I’m waking up with you” he replied, a soft smile on his face as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. You could feel your ears heat up and you looked at him with a grin.

“you woke up 10 minutes ago and you’re already trying to charm me, give it up barnes” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully and eating your cereal.

“sweetheart, i charmed you the moment you saw me” he winked and you choked on your cereal, coughing a littlw before laughing.

“if i can recall correctly seargeant it was you who couldn’t even form a sentence around me until the week after we met” you replied, a satisfied smirk on your face when you turned and saw your boyfriend sitting there with a mouthful of cereal, red as can be.

Silence.

“exactly bucky, exactly” you spoke, a giggle escaping your lips as the two of you continued to eat your cereal, making some small talk and stealing some spoonfuls of each others food. You would shove bucky a little with your shoulder when he took a little too much for your liking, making him take even more im order to rile you up a bit.

After the two of you finished you just kinda sat there, scrolling through your phones, texting people back and such. Then you would go your separate ways, it was buckys turn to do the dishes (much to his dismay) so you headed to the bedroom to change, opting on one of buckys t shirts and some biker shorts.

You sat on the couch, listening to bucky hum along to the music you were playing while he finished putting away the dishes. Bucky plopped himself on the couch next to you, letting out a small sigh and immediately wrapping his arms around you.

“y/n?” he asked, his voice muffled against your tummy. “yes buck” you’d reply, a smile on your face because the vibrations of his voice tickled. “I don’t wanna go to the gym, can we just walk instead” he spoke, looking up at you with hopeful eyes and you narrowed your eyes at him a bit.

You brought your hand up to your chin to make it look like you were thinking, “hm you drive a hard bargain here barnes but i think yes” you smiled and he put his face back into your stomach, sighing one more time before going to get changed.

Within minutes the two of you were out in the sun, holding hands and laughing into each other while telling stories of your friends. You smiled up at bucky when he talked, his eyes glinting as he spoke about funny mishaps in the compound or on missions.

Bucky looked at you in pure love and adoration as you told your stories, moving your hands and dragging his in your because you refused to stop holding his hand.

Somehow the two of you ended up on a swingset, trying to see who could go the highest, of course you proclaimed yourself the winner, making bucky slightly pouty. So plotting his revenge he got out and pushed you, making you go higher than you bargained for and holding on the chains for dear life. Your eyes were wide in fear as Bucky doubled over in laughter. As soon as you got down you scrunched you’re face up and tackled the super soldier, of course he usually wouldn’t budge but for the sake of your satisfaction he let himself fall to the ground.

“you are so evil Buchanan!” You spoke, getting up and dusting yourself off, Bucky remained on the floor laughing for a couple more seconds before getting up and giving you a goofy smile. You but your lip to hold back your grin, punching him in the chest before taking off.

“real classy y/n! punching and then running!” he spoke, quickly taking off after you.

It sure as hell was an adorable sight. Two grown adults running in circles chasing each other, squealing and giggling as Bucky caught you, picking you up and swinging you around, your head tilted back in laughter.

Buckys face radiated happiness, he had a toothy grin and his eyes looked so bright, he wasn’t worried or checking over his shoulder, he was living. He was in love.

After bucky set your down, you turned around and set your head on his chest, letting your heartbeats steady and trying to catch your breath. After a couple of moments you lifted your head and intertwined your fingers once again, heading home with a smile on both of your faces.

It was a slow day, with a quiet breakfast and an exciting walk. A day with endless snuggles and more time scrolling and debating what to watch than actually watching. A day with stolen kisses and soft laughter. It was a slow day with you, and that’s all bucky ever wanted.