#at least the house is cleaner now

[princessblue135]

incorrect quotes part 2

[undead-potatoes]

Just had a couple of cleaners here from the county (who provide service for the disabled and elderly, idk what that's called in English), so now my apartment is the cleanest it's been in forever (nice)

And the first things one of the cats did was puke all over the newly cleaned floors. Just outstanding, 10/10 creature behavior

[chronicplay]

🥇

^ for this guy who has braved a lot of contamination OCD fears today

[ppulverse]

i forgot to ask my mom if i could borrow one of her pillows and now i don't have one 😭😭

[eveningdreams8]

(Miniature) couch restoration

I found this couch ( with a bunch of other things I didn't care about) for 2$ at a second hand store

Finding dollhouse miniatures is kind of rare around here so I grabbed it, I thought at worst it would be a cheap MDF off of AliExpress or something and I could repaint it, but once I scraped a bit of the paint off I was pleasantly surprised to find a nice wood finish!

There was at least 3 to 4 layers of paint through (⁠‘⁠◉⁠⌓⁠◉⁠’⁠) (white, gray, maybe white again and finally pink)

Out of curiosity I pried up the fabric which was obviously not the original, to find another unoriginal fabric and pried that up too and that was still not the original 🤣 matroshka doll of upholstery

After huffing 99% alcohol and paint brush cleaner for probably 5 or so hours I ended up with this

I left the back and seat of the couch rough as it would be covered in fabric anyway, it looks like that maybe at some point this got sanded in a few spots? I fixed it up by finally using my furniture repair markers as intended (mostly I don't think they had mini furniture in mind)

You can see on the left half where I tried different colours to see what would match best

Now new upholstery! I only had the original couch cushion seat so I decided to just redo the whole thing in silk of corse (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

I wanted it to look a little worn so I picked this really textured blueish green/cream dupini silk

From barbie would be embarrassed to have this in her house to Victorian centerpiece! Or well I would like to think so ;;;

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[hauntedaether]

losing my mind (tags))

[willieverseetheland]

good girl

Dexter Morgan x reader

based on this ask!

Warnings: 18+ smut, rough sex, unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write), oral m!receiving, slight choking, dom!dexter Summary: Dexter comes home after an unsuccessful kill and needs to blow off some steam ;)

You stand in your kitchen, admiring your work. You've spent the entirety of the day cleaning, scrubbing until the whole room sparkled. The entire house is filled with the fresh lemon-y scent of cleaner. You plop down on your couch, satisfied with your hard work. You reach for the book lying on your coffee table when suddenly the door flies open and shuts with a loud slam. In walks your very handsome boyfriend, Dexter Morgan. Something about the look on his face, and the dramatic entrance, tells you he's not in the greatest mood. His gaze is dark, angry. You feel like you should be scared when he's like this, hell most people would, but you feel rather turned on instead. He's pacing around your living room. Not stopping to look at you, or even say anything.

"Dex, what's wrong?"

He shoots you a harsh glare

"It's just work. I should probably go" he replies

"No, don't. I want to help" you reach to grab his arm

"No, I shouldn't have come here" he pulls his arm back

You frown in response

"What can I do to make you stay" you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes

he sighs

"I'm sure there's some way I could help. I can be pretty convincing" you slide your tongue across your bottom teeth while holding eye contact

He sighs again, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back

He's contemplating his next move. He'd love nothing more than to rip your clothes off and have you right here on the floor. But considering tonight's circumstances, not being able to feed that need inside him. He's afraid he'll be too much, too dark and empty. That he won't be able to control himself. He's been stalking his prey for the past two weeks all for nothing, all for him to turn up empty handed. No blood slide to bring home. He didn't know what else to do but come over. Deep down he knew what he wanted, what this would lead to. The only thing that could take his mind off of things, just for a little while at least. Maybe he could channel that hunger, that need, into something else. You.

As he's looking at you, something in his eyes shift. From anger to a hunger. Something insatiable. You knew what this meant. You could hardly contain your excitement as your arousal began to pool in your underwear. He cups your face in both hands kissing you hard, deep. Teeth clashing, breath heavy. It's like something switched in him. From a man wounded, angry, to a man in need. A man who knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was you. In this moment it's all he could think about. He had tunnel vison, trying to keep tonight's previous failure out of his mind. His hands began to roam your body, grabbing anything they could. You slid your hand down to his crotch, grabbing and rubbing. He growls in response. This only further fueled the fire inside him, like a spark to gasoline. He spun you around and slammed you against the wall.

He breaks the kiss searching your face for any sign of discomfort. He may be a killer, but he would never hurt the woman he loved.

"Keep going" you say breathlessly

At your confirmation, he returns to kissing you. Moving down your neck, sucking and biting. Your breath catches in your throat. His hand snakes down to play with the hem of your pants. He slides between the band reaching further down, tracing circles around your clit. You let out a soft moan. You move your hands to his hair, gliding your fingers through his auburn locks, pulling and tugging. He begins to kiss you more roughly now, breathing hard. You can feel him hardening against your thigh.

"Bedroom" you whisper

You wrap your legs around his waist as he picks you up. Never once breaking the kiss as he carries you to the bedroom. He drops you onto the mattress, springs creaking from the impact.

"Off" he orders, referring to your clothes

You slowly remove your shirt, then pause

"Everything" His face is like stone as he watches your every move, his eyes the only thing moving as he follows your hands move across your body.

When you unclasp your bra and let it slide off, you watch as his pupils dilate wide, focusing in on your now exposed chest.

You move your hands down to start working the buttons of your jeans, moving teasingly slow.

He grabs your wrist

"Don't play games with me" His voice ragged and deep

You can't help but smirk ever so slightly. You've never seen him like this before. Dominant? Sure. But never this dark and angry, never this in need.

You slide your pants off, then your underwear. You're completely exposed now, while he's still fully dressed. You blush a little. His eyes scan your body, taking it all in. Preparing for what's about to happen, playing out different scenarios in his mind. You frown when he doesn't make any moves to remove his own clothes. That tight green button up makes you think horrifically sinful things, you just want him to rip it off and crawl on top of you already. You guess you'll have to do it yourself.

You reach up to tug on the hem of his shirt, he understands and pulls it off over his head. He removes his belt as well which brings your attention to his now extremely large bulge. 'He must be so uncomfortable' you think. You look up at him, making eye contact as you slide his pants and boxers down to his knees. His wild eyes looking into yours as you lean forward to lick a long stripe along his cock. He clenches his jaw at the sensation, wanting more. You finally take him into your mouth, pushing further inch-by-inch. His head falls back as he lets out a low groan. You move your head slowly, still trying to adjust to him in your mouth. He decides this is too slow and places a hand on your head pushing you faster. Your gags only encourage him as the closer he gets the rougher and faster he pushes until he's full-on face fucking you. He stops however and pulls away; this isn't how he wants to finish. He wants more, he needs to be inside you.

He looks down at you, noticing tears streaming down your face. He snaps out of whatever sex induced daze he was in. His eyes dissolving from aroused to concerned.

"Are you okay? Was that too much?" His voice laced with worry

But to his surprise, you just smile up at him

"No, I can take it. I promise" you say, giving him the same pleading doe eyes that got you into this mess

With your approval, he immediately snaps back. Lips crashing into yours, tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, like he's trying to memorize your taste. He pushes you onto the bed and crawls over you. He continues devouring your lips, rough and passionate, he even bites and draws a little blood, much to his amusement. One hand grasping your jaw while the other snakes down to your core. He easily slides two fingers in while his thumb rubs circles on your clit. Your loud moans are muffled by his mouth on yours. Gripping your jaw tightly, he moves your head to the side to gain access to your neck. He loves the sounds you make when he bites the tender flesh where your jaw meets your earlobe. He ravages your neck, biting, licking, and sucking any available skin he can get his mouth on. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was a vampire. Maybe that's just the effect you have on him. You moan loudly as his fingers work you into bliss, practically screaming his name as you cum.

He moves your face back to look at him. Your eyes glazed over with pleasure, one of his favorite looks on you. He grabs your thighs, wrapping them around his waist. He locks eyes with you as he aligns with your entrance and slowly pushes in. He loves watching your mouth fall open and your eyebrows scrunch in pleasure. He moves his hands to your hips, gripping tightly. His pace quickens, causing you to moan with every deep thrust. You squeeze your eyes shut as pleasure rolls through you.

His thrusts become faster and rougher. He moves a hand from your waist to your chest, rubbing his thumb across your nipples.

He suddenly pulls out and you whimper at the emptiness. You look at him confused

"Dex, please. I need you"

But before you know it, he grabs your waist and flips you over. His hands return to your hips, gripping them tightly. You arch your back in response, pushing into him.

"Good girl" he says in a low taunting voice

You moan at his words, God you love when he's like this

Without warning, he plunges back into you. Hitting deeper inside you with this new angle. He's just as rough, pounding into you relentlessly. With every stroke he can feel all his anger and stress fall away. He doesn't care about what happened earlier, all he can feel is you and the way you wrap around him perfectly. It doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge as you're sensitive from your previous orgasm. You cum hard, moaning out his name as your walls clench around him. Dexter continues to fuck into you, his thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he gets closer. He leans over you, bringing his lips to your ear.

"Inside, is that okay?" he whispers

You can't do anything other than nod

With a few final thrusts he comes undone, spilling into you. He slumps over you, chest against your back. Breathing in sync, feeling each other's bodies pressed together. He places soft kisses to the back of your neck, a complete contrast to the man he was a second ago. He collapses on the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you.

"I didn't go too far, did I?" he asks in his usual calm, gentle voice

"No, you were perfect." you smile, pulling his hand to your face and placing a gentle kiss.

...

This ended up WAYYY longer than expected but I'm very glad. Big thank you to the person that requested this, I hope I did your vision justice. Thanks for reading! <3

[undreaming-fanfiction]

My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

[lxkeee]

Just read your thing about lucifer with a morticia addams like character, and I already had alot of thoughts like, how would it be if lucifer then took her to the hotel to introduce her to the others, what would it have been like if she was at the hotel when lucifer came to see charlie, things like that, it was so great!

LUCIFER X OVERLORD! FEM! READER

—part two!

I'm gonna add a little twist to this;)

Which is jealous Lucifer lmfao.

PART ONE |

“Darling, are you sure you wanted me to be there? I don't want to intrude on your little family reunion with your daughter.” [y/n] says, her hand over her hips as she looked down (literally) on him. Her antlers form a shadow over his form, majestic.

“Darling, I promise you won't be intruding and yes, I want you to be there. I need your support.” Lucifer says pleading making [y/n] sigh softly, a small smile on her face.

“Alright, anything to make my darling happy.” she says with a giggle.

Everything she says and does makes his knees weak.

He's whipped.

Arriving at the hotel, [y/n] told him he should go inside first as she needed to take care of some... Pests...

Both of them are powerful beings so they are bound to have enemies that follows them.

[y/n] managed to sense those familiar presence who always wanted to take her down but failed spectacularly.

“Wait... I should go with you.” Lucifer says worriedly, holding her hands. [Y/n] just squeezing his hands in assurance.

“Do not fret, it's not something I can't handle and besides, they're nothing but pesky roaches that I could easily crush with a flick of my finger.” [y/n] says with a smirk before leaning down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I will return quickly, and enjoy some personal time with your daughter. You owe it to her, hmm?” she says with a raised eyebrow and Lucifer sighs before nodding with a smile.

“Alright, just... Be careful okay? Promise me.” Lucifer says with a worried tone, [y/n] had to pat his hear.

“Of course, darling. I'll always come back to you.” she says with a small genuine smile, her sharp teeth can be seen before morphing her body into a shadow and camouflages with the surrounding shadows. Leaving him behind to deal with the threat near the hotel.

Lucifer sighs before eventually walking towards the door of the hotel.

Lucifer eventually met the staff and guests of the hotel along with Charlie. He doesn't like that Alastor guy, gives him bad vibes.

“And this is Niffty, she's our house cleaner.” Charlie introduces as Niffty begins to crawl Lucifer just so she could face him face to face, “I clean.” Niffty says with a giggle.

Charlie was nervous to say the least, she's nervous about what her dad is thinking about the hotel. Suddenly there was a knock on the hotel door.

The sound causing everyone to keep quiet. Charlie decided to open the door to see the infamous shadow demon, standing tall and ominous with a large grin on her face.

“Gree—” the tall demoness greeted but was cut off as the door was slammed shut.

Charlie decided to open it again to make sure she didn't imagine things, didn't imagine one of hell's powerful overlords in her doorstep, “tings—” the demoness continued but the door was slammed shut again.

Lucifer had to face palm while Alastor's grin widened as he heard the familiar voice of his deer friend (badum tsss) while also feeling a sense of deja vu.

“Charlie, dear. Can you open the door? It is rude to slam the door on someone's face.” Lucifer sighs with a chuckle making Charlie laugh nervously before eventually opening the door.

“May I speak now?” the tall demoness asked with a grin.

“You may.” Charlie said hesitantly but her hand was quickly grabbed as the demoness shook her hand.

“It is finally a pleasure to meet you sweetheart, your dad has been telling me so many good things about you!” the demoness says with a large grin on her face as she entered the hotel.

The princess of hell was confused.

“Wait... My dad told you things about me...?” Charlie asked as Lucifer walked beside the tall demoness.

“Um yes... Charlie, I would like you to meet [y/n] she's my.... lover...” Lucifer says, voice getting shyer at the end.

Charlie blinked, [y/n] just grins.

Charlie finally processed his words.

“She's your girlfriend?!” Charlie asked, mouth agape.

“Yes, for a few months now.” Lucifer says with a chuckle.

The others just stared at the couple, blinking as they tried to process it.

Well... They are both powerful and they kinda look like each other's type. They thought as they looked at the two.

“My word, I didn't expect you to snag the king of hell my dear friend.” Alastor says with a smirk, his familiar static voice catching [y/n]'s attention.

Lucifer's eyes twitch. This bastard knows his woman?

“Is that Alastor I hear?” [y/n] says with a grin, morphing her body into shadows as she teleports next to Alastor's side.

“[y/n]! It's been awhile since I've last seen you, how have you been my dearest friend?” Alastor greeted, bowing down to place a gentle kiss on [y/n]'s knuckles, a subtle smirk on his face.

Lucifer's left eye twitched as he looked at the scene in front of him.

He's not angry at [y/n], no, no. He is pissed at Alastor though.

“I should be the one asking you that! You've disappeared for seven years, I thought you already kicked the bucket my friend.” [y/n] laughs and Alastor laughed with her.

Lucifer quickly appeared on [y/n]'s side, holding a protective arm around her waist.

“Darling, I didn't know you're acquainted with this man.” Lucifer asked, his eyes glaring at Alastor.

[y/n] just chuckles, intertwining her hand with Lucifer's hand.

“Alastor here is an overlord so it would make sense we know each other. Considering we have our annual overlord meetings.” [y/n] explained, giving him assurance.

Alastor finds entertainment in teasing others and right now is a perfect opportunity to tease the king of hell more.

“[y/n] here is a charming woman, her presence is a real head turner. I couldn't resist getting acquainted with her.” Alastor says with a grin.

The others just looking at the scene happening between the three.

“Oohh... Drama...” Angel whispers to Husk, making Husk chuckle.

*cue the chandelier falling in front of them*

*cue the hell's greatest dad scene.*

[y/n] sighs, a small smile on her face as he watched Lucifer being shown around the hotel by Charlie and Alastor. [Y/n] decided to stay in the lobby as she wanted to get acquainted with others.

“So you and the short king?” Angel says making [y/n] snort.

“Indeed, quite a catch really.” [y/n] chuckles as she sat on the bar stool. Husk preparing her a drink.

“You know what they say, the shorter the height the bigger the—” Angel was cut off by Husk.

“I swear to God if you say dick!” Husk remarked.

“Heart! Goodness, Husk. Get your mind out of the gutter!” Angel laughed.

[Y/n] bursts out laughing, these people are so fun to be around.

“Goodness, you guys are so hilarious!” [y/n] says in between laughs.

Safe to say the others warmed up to her and her to them.

[y/n] spent the rest of her time just joking with the others, occasionally giving Niffty cleaning tips and Vaggie some suggestions on how to improve the hotel.

*Cue the loan sharks destroying the hotel*

Lucifer and [y/n] stood next to each other as they watched Alastor deal with the loan sharks. [Y/n] had an amazed look in her eyes while Lucifer just watched in slight caution.

[y/n] may be the type of demon who finds joy in others pain but at this moment, she places her hand on Lucifer's shoulder as a warning. [Y/n] can tell that Charlie was getting upset from Lucifer's remarks.

“Darling, calm down.” [y/n] says softly but Lucifer's emotions are controlling his actions.

“How can he have faith in me but my own father can't?” Charlie asked, clearly upset.

“Charlie, sweetie...” [y/n] says softly, approaching the poor girl. Squeezing the poor girl's hands in assurance.

Mother is mothering fr.

[y/n] can sense that Charlie and Lucifer needed to talk this out. Giving the girl a pat on her head before walking to Lucifer's side.

“Lucifer... I think it's time to tell her.” [y/n] says softly in his ear. Squeezing his hand in assurance before joining the others. Angel offered her some popcorn which she gladly accepted.

[y/n] looked so proud, watching the father and daughter hug each other. Her eyes sparkled in amazement as she looked at Lucifer's wings. It never fails to mesmerize her.

Lucifer finally agreeing in scheduling Charlie a meeting with heaven.

“Good luck, kiddo.” Lucifer says and extends his hand towards [y/n]'s direction. [Y/n] accepting his hand.

“You can do it Charlie.” [y/n] grins before the couple finally left the hotel in puff of sparkling red smoke.

“I hope Miss [y/n] visits, I like her.” Niffty says with a small laugh.

“Your dad's new lover doesn't seem so bad.” Vaggie says as she stood beside Charlie.

Charlie just smiled, “Yeah, she doesn't seem so bad.”

Charlie is glad her father found someone like [y/n], she can see the chemistry between the two.

“Are you okay?” [y/n] asked softly as she spooned Lucifer on his bed. Her arms wrapped protectively around him.

“I'll be fine. Thanks for being here with me.” Lucifer says softly, blushing slightly as he felt her place a gentle kiss on the nape of his neck.

“Anytime.” she says softly.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 3- The Reveal

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N gets rejected for the sixth time. Max win's the Monaco grand prix 2023. Y/N decides she needs time for herself.

No hate to anyone, it's for the story

{Reader's POV}

I fell asleep crying, a faint buzzing from my phone was heard from the other room. I woke up after a few hours at 3 am when I found my phone which was burning up. The messages hadn't stop coming. They had gotten quite frantic as I scrolled through my notifications. I decided to reply to Max's messages.

He was still the guy I liked, I couldn't not reply. But I was hurt and in no shape to be talking to him. I don't know what Max said after my message because my phone shut down. I pushed myself to clean myself up and my surrounding. I was a stress cleaner and I'm so grateful to having 2 jobs right now. It meant my mind would be preoccupied. I cleaned my whole house before leaving for school in the morning. My eyes were red and puffy; I was on coffee. I had yet to switch my phone on. I wasn't ready to face Max yet.

Today was the worst day, not only because of last night's revelation but I had the least amount of classes today. None of the kids needed help after class either. That meant I was left to my own devices. When I switched the phone on, I could see missed calls and texts from Max and a couple voice messages; from the night before and today morning I guess. I opened up Google to check his schedule; he was in Monaco, which was also his home currently. I found out a lot about him, you think you know someone but then Google tells you otherwise. His dad was as shitty as he described. His records and feats were astonishing and if I wasn't this angry at him for hiding it from me, I would've been so proud and told him so. His Instagram feed was pretty and polished and he posted so much racing content. I found his streaming account with a team, he was exactly like the Max that called me everyday with occasional appearances from the cats on stream. People spoke so rudely about Max, it angered me to no end. He was a kind man, a liar but a sweet man.

The real kicker was Max's girlfriend's account where I found so many pictures of them together with her daughter, from what I found out. He looked happy, he had a family like he always said he wanted. I couldn't help but smile bitterly, a part of me wished that it was me who was the woman beside him with our kid. Life is cruel in some ways, mine is satire at best. Here, I can't date a man because I'm hung up on a guy I've never met before while said man has a family. I felt tears streaming down my face which I quickly wiped them off. I had enough of pity and sympathy stares since the morning to last a lifetime, I can't deal with any more of them.

I knew I wanted to talk to Max, the only guy who has ever understood me, however, I also knew that if we spoke I wouldn't be listening to him. I was scared I would lose the one true friend I have. Would Max understand where I was coming from? Why did he hide this from me? Did he not trust me enough? I get it, but you are a public figure. I don't know how to feel about all of this. It was the weekend tomorrow. I would be left with my thoughts and I probably shouldn't confront Max before his race on Sunday, right?

I spent the next two days planning how I would talk to Max. How I would ask him why he hid everything from me? I didn't want to fight him; my parents always said I was rude and difficult to work with, that my anger consumed me, that my words were harsh. I wasn't supposed to show such negative emotions they said. I didn't want to lose him; but was I allowed to hold on to him when he never let me have him?

Max called and texted me every day but I was very scared, scared of becoming the monster my parents said I was, sacred of hurting the one I love. There I said it, said Max and love in the same sentence. I had threaded that line so carefully but after all of this, I realised that I've loved him for years and watching him be happy with some else hurt as much as knowing that I never truly knew Max. It was Sunday night, I checked the news and saw that Max won. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to rejoice watching the man I love win at what he was best at or be hurt watching him live a life I knew nothing about.

I texted him at night on Sunday, maybe he would be busy celebrating his win, I didn't know. I didn't know a lot of things. As I waited for the text back, I logged on to my emails that I had forgotten about to find a reply from the publication I had sent my work to; to be met with dismay. Another rejection, I'm not sure how many more rejections I could take. My hands shook, making the laptop fall from my lap onto the bed. I got up and got myself a glass of water.

I laid on my bed for god knows how long before the familiar ring of my phone pulled me out of my trance. I had taken the day off tomorrow. I knew I didn't have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with anything. I answered the call to a worried Max.

Max- Schat, how have you been? Haven't heard a word from you in days. Y/N- I've been busy, school year ending and stuff. Why didn't you sleep yet? Max- You know my sleep schedule is non existent. Y/N- Yeah, I guess I do. Max looked at me confused. Y/N- You know how I do freelance editing Max- You've told me about it Y/N- The latest author I'm working with is a sports author. I was hoping you could help me since you are a walking encycylopedia. Max- sure schat, but what's up with you? You know I'm always there for you Y/N- Yeah it nothing, just stressed. Max- Take off, you deserve it Y/N- The summer break is here soon, I'll be fine. So about that author... Max-Yeah, what sport does she write for? Y/N- Formula One. I don't really like reading lengthy articles and I'm sure one article wouldn't do a sport any justice. I could see the colour leave Max's face. He licked his lips before speaking. Max- You did not go through google yet, right? Y/N- Oh no, what do you take me for? I got excited to learn about something new. Do you know who the reigning champion is? Max was quite, a sort of uncomfortable silence had enveloped us, for the first time in 10 years. Y/N- Some dude named Max Verstappen. You guys share the same first name. He has 2 cats too; named Jimmy and Sassy, who look exactly like your bengals. I mean he even looks like you, with horrible sleep schedule just like you. He even sounds like you. I felt my voice begin to crack while I spoke, the lump in my throat unbearably big, my breathing was uneven. Max- Schatje, I can explain. Y/N- You don't have to Max. I never asked you what you did. You don't have to explain anything. (I smiled with only my lips) Max- I wanted to tell you, it just never came up in conversation. Y/N- I get it, it's difficult to tell your friend who has amounted to nothing that you are the World Driver's Champion, best of the best in Formula One. Max- Y/N, it's nothing like that. You're great, you're kind, you're funny. I laughed bitterly. Y/N- Those are character traits I possess, they don't describe my career goals or achievements. I know I work 2 jobs to stay afloat while you make millions, I know I wish I was an author and not their editor, I know you probably thought I was too stupid to understand your rich and fancy world. Max- No, no, you're so talented. I've read your work and I'm sure the right publication will pick your work up. Y/N- I got rejected for the sixth time today. All of this is fine except that you lied to me about being single while having a girlfriend for years and having the happy family you dreamt off. You didn't have to introduce me to her; not like my boyfriends met you. But it would've been nice if I knew. Max- It just never came up. Y/N- I...we joked about setting you up with someone all the time. Please don't. I get it, we didn't tell each other about work goals or what we did as a job but personal life; I literally told you about every guy I've ever been with. I felt bad telling you thinking you were single. I feel stupid right now. I had tears streaming down my face at this point. Max- I'm sorry,Y/N. I promise I won't hide anything anymore. Please, don't cry. Y/N- My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I majored in literature in Uni and now work as a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I'm trying to get my book published soon. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 months ago. Max- Please don't do this. Y/N- I believe at least one of us should be honest. Max- Let me fix this. Y/N- Don't worry. There's nothing to fix. (I wiped away my tears) Max- Please don't say that. You mean a lot me. Y/N- Me too. That's why, I need time. I'll talk to you when I'm ready. Max- Please, I can't lose you. Y/N- You won't. I'll always be there for you. I just need time. Take care Max I saw tears streaming down Max's face. Max- Bye, take care Y/N. I'll always be here. And then the screen went black.

[Max spent the whole week worrying about Y/N. He couldn't think straight. This was weird, she was never this busy before. It was stressing him out, he couldn't eat or sleep. He never even thought about the fact that maybe his lie had been exposed. When Y/N texted him, he was at a club in Monaco with the other drivers to celebrate his win. He only saw it after he got back home and immediately called her. She looked different, there was this sadness in her eyes. The smile didn't reach her eyes. And then she started talking, his heart was beating very fast. The moment she said Formula One, his whole world came crashing down. The more she spoke the more he felt like he was falling deeper, in a pit of his own making. He wanted to tell her, he wanted to explain himself but no words left his mouth. Then she started talking about his girlfriend. He felt like this was the last time he would get to talk to her, the last time he would hear her voice. This felt like the last time he would have her]

[mortallydeepestobservation]

Perfect plan -1-

Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits? (But the benefit is a baby); crack, a smidge of angst, smut, fluff, happy ending. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings:  mentions of cheating and ‘being the other woman’ (past relationship), reader works at a hospital, Namjoon is just an absolute sweetheart in this, cursing, multiple sex scenes, dirty talking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, just a smidge of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, intensive orgasms, Namjoon tells you to “Relax, woman” before eating you out, lovemaking, and a quick scene of pregananat sex. Word count: somewhere around 15k. Author's note: You know there is this idea travelling around that writers write what they need to hear? Apparently, I need Namjoon to tell me it’s okay if I don’t have it all figured out. Thank you @callmenoona25 for all your help once again. You’re the sweetest! ✨ ps. English not first language. Brain dumb sometimes. If you’re still reading this, leave a comment, drop a like, they’re literally the joy of my existence. part 2: here

Confetti was not just decoration; it was a phenomenon. It had a very special way of never truly being vacuumed up. No matter how many times you tried, the colorful bits- pink, blue and gold- always seem to wiggle away and hide comfortably into the far corners of the room as if they had a mind of their own. They would stay there, nestled in the shadows, only to flutter up again whenever you tried to sweep them away.

After the third failed attempt, you let out a frustrated sigh and abandoned the vacuum cleaner. You’d leave that task for the sober version of you tomorrow.

Instead, you started gathering the scattered napkins from the dining table, folding them mindlessly. Your gaze wandered to the half-burned candles that still sat on the table, the melted wax serving as a quiet witness to your little gathering.

29.

“Happy Birthday!” – those words never felt heavier, laden with unfulfilled dreams and the weight of another year gone by without much to show for it. Even the celebration, once full of light and laugher, had left behind just another mess to clean up. The year was over and you were left with the quiet aftermath.

You had always imagined this age differently, or at least, that’s what you told yourself every year. By now, you thought you’d have things figured out. You thought there’d be someone by your side, someone to share the joy of the life you had built.

Little baby prints all over the house. Raising a child, teaching them how to blow out birthday candles and clean up the mess afterwards.

You had always imagined being a mother by now. Maybe that’s what hurt the most- how the years seemed to slip by without any sign of the family you’ve dreamed of. The house full of laughter, a partner to help you navigate the messes and milestones.

But instead, you found yourself alone. Alone in a big beautiful house, holding a top position as an administrator at a private hospital. But alone.

You threw away the last of the napkins and pushed your way through the clutter on the dining table, your mind still heavy with the weight of the thought that had followed your around since the last of the guests had left. The candles sat atop the garbage pile when you walked towards the kitchen.

The house felt quieter now, almost too quiet, as if it was holding its breath since the celebration had ended.

When you entered the kitchen, the hum of the dishwasher broke the silence. You hadn’t expected to find anyone still here, but here he was- Namjoon, your friend, still loading dishes with the same quiet focus he’d had all evening.

You two met back in your last year at college, when you were both striving to become more than just another student. You butted heads a few times, competing for the opening position of Teacher Assistant, only for the teacher to completely compromise the project by offering the job to his very own son.

Either way, you walked away with a new friend. (The enemy of my enemy?)  You were drawn to his passion, his drive, and his unwavering belief in himself. Turned out the two of you also made a hell of a team when it came to it, because you managed to get the job done, despite the professor’s questionable decisions. You’d stayed late countless nights in the library, hashing out ideas, studying together, even venting your frustration in between textbooks. Namjoon had the uncanny ability to make even the most tedious projects feel worthwhile, and you couldn’t help but admire the way he could turn anything into an opportunity for growth. It was contagious, his unwavering belief that everything- every setback, every challenge, was just another chance to prove yourself.

You’d both laughed about it afterwards, the way the professor’s son had been handed the job without so much as a second though, while you and Namjoon had essentially worked the entire course in the shadows. But it didn’t matter in the end. What you had created, together, was far more valuable than the title ever could’ve given you.

The sound of glassware clinking together was oddly soothing, and for a moment you just watched him.

He was dressed in a casual cream turtleneck that beautifully highlighted his broad chest, paired with olive-green slacks. The golden framed glasses perched on his nose adding a little touch of elegance, perfectly tying the outfit together. He seemed relaxed, at large within the confines of your apartment.

“Still here?”

Namjoon glanced over his shoulder, flashing you a tired but warm smile, “You thought I’d leave you to clean all this on your own?”

You lean slightly against the counter, suddenly feeling restricted by the tight dress you wore, watching him work. It was such a kind gesture, but something about it made you feel even more isolated.

“I could’ve handled it,”

“I know you could,” he said, turning back to the sink, “But I wanted to help.”

There was something about him that made you feel seen, even in moments like these, when you didn’t want to be. Almost like he wasn’t just cleaning up your party mess; he was cleaning your life in some way too. The laughter had faded hours ago, and now it was just the two of you- no more distractions, no more Taehyung and Jungkook cracking jokes, no more celebrating. Just the quiet hum of the dishwasher and the soft clink of plates.  Just still life.

You sigh and pull out a chair to sit down at the small breakfast nook “I just feel like… I’m stuck, you know?”

The sparkling champagne made you tongue loose. Feeling vulnerable and raw, you quietly searched his eyes. “Like, I thought by now I’d have it all figured out- where I’m supposed to be, what I’m supposed to be doing. I just thought I’d have more… more something.”

Namjoon set the plate down with a soft clink and turned towards you, his gaze steady but gentle. He wiped his hands on a dish towel, and for the first time that evening, he let the silence hang between you, as if giving you space to let the words settle before responding.

“You know,” he began, his voice low, “I think everyone feels that way sometimes. That sense of… not being where you thought you’d be. But I also think you’re more than what you’re giving yourself credit for.” He paused, then leaned against the counter, meeting your eyes in that way he always did- like he was truly seeing you, not just the person in front of him, but the one beneath the surface.

You shrugged, a half-smile pulling at the corners of your lips, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “I just-” You sighed. “I need to stop drinking.”

Namjoon studied you for a moment, his eyes softening as if weighing your words. He didn’t rush to fill the silence with advice or reassurances. Instead, he simply watched, letting the moment hang in the air, even as it thickened with unspoken words.

Finally, after a small eternity, he spoke.

“It’s okay not to have it all figured out.” He paused for a moment “Life isn’t a straight line. I know you like to plan every little detail of it, but sometimes, it’s just not how it works out. You can’t just arrive somewhere and expect it to be perfect.”

You wanted to laugh, to dismiss his words as is you didn’t know already. But something in the way he said it made it feel real. Like he wasn’t just offering empty comfort, but speaking form a place of understanding.

“And maybe you’re not where you thought you’d be. But that doesn’t mean you’re lost.” Namjoon set the tea towel down with quiet precision, then met your gaze once more, his smile faint but steady. “I think... maybe we’re all just figuring it out as we go. Some of us more than others.”

 You wanted to say something, wanted to argue, but the weight of his words settled over you, a gentle blanket you didn’t know you needed.

“C’mon, you’re tired. Let’s get you to bed.” The softness of his tone caught you off guard, tugging at something inside of you. His words didn’t come with expectations, didn’t demand anything from you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, you simply nodded, feeling a heaviness settle over you that was both familiar and strange. You stood up slowly, legs still a little unsteady from the alcohol, and made your way to the bedroom, Namjoon following quietly behind you.

You didn’t speak as you reached the doorway. There was nothing to say, not really. So instead, you turned around and wrapped yourself around his body, pulling him in a tight hug.

“Thank you Joonie.”

Namjoon chuckled, squeezing you tightly before whispering “Anytime love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fluorescent lights of the 7/11 hummed overhead, as you stood in the middle of an aisle, heart melting into a puddle as you cooed over a chubby-cheeked baby sprawled across a shopping card. All bundled up in a puppy themed onesie, the little one giggled as he reached for a colorful toy, and you couldn’t help but mimic his joyous sounds.

You watched with admiration as the mother, a confident woman in yoga pants (and a vomit-stained shirt), gently tickled the baby’s round face, eliciting a fit of giggles.

Namjoon, as usual, was talking as he dropped something into your shopping cart, not that you were paying him any attention. Not when the baby’s eyes caught your gaze, his smile widening as he cooed at you.

“God Joon, I want one too.”

Namjoon, ever the pragmatist, didn’t miss a beat. “Well, I can get you one, they’re on sale.”

His voice was light, casual, the way he spoke when he didn’t take your thoughts too seriously. You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation.

“What are you talking about?”

“The crackers?” he said, glancing at you, his brow furrowed in confusion as he held a box of crackers in his hand, examining the label as though the fine print held some secret to the universe. “What are you talking about?”

You stared at him for a second, still caught up in the midst of your daydream, before laughing softly.

“The baby, Namjoon.”

“Ah-” he paused, looking back at the baby boy. “I don’t think they sell those here,” he chuckled, throwing a sly glance your way. “But if you want, I can distract the mother, and you make a run for the exit with the baby.”

You laughed at the absurdity of it, shooting him a playful glare, knowing where his teasing would lead.

“Don’t say that! You’ll get us kicked out." You scold with a playful grin.

Namjoon just shrugged, as if the thought didn’t bother him, the teasing glint in his eyes only making you smile wider. You pushed your cart towards the checkout line, the weight of it heavier now.

It’s been a few weeks since you had that moment of weakness, but the ache still lingered, quietly tucked away in the mundane day-to-day distractions. You’d buried the feelings under careful planning, an extra dose of work, and fleeting nights out with friends. But the longing never quite went away.

Instead, it had grown far beyond a mere ‘baby fever’. It was a full-blown malady by now.

Namjoon, however, was a constant, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of your thoughts. And tonight, it was no different, even in the middle of a basic errand run to 7/11. He was there, filling the space with his usual teasing and lighthearted energy, offering a sense of normalcy you didn’t even realize you missed.

“But seriously, I think you’d make a wonderful mother.” Behind you, Namjoon continued to toss items into the cart- bags of chips, cans of soda, candy bars- anything within his reach as he dropped one of the biggest compliments you’ve gotten in the past few years.

It hit you like a soft wave, unexpected, yet somehow exactly what you needed to hear. You paused, a bag of cereal halfway to your cart, processing his words. The motions of the store continued around you- people chatting, the hum of a checkout line in the distance, the baby’s giggles- but for a minute, they all slowed, and it was just the two of you in that fluorescent-lit aisle.

You turn slightly, trying to keep the heat from rising to your cheeks “You think so?”

Namjoon, oblivious to the shift in your mood, continued picking through the shelves, tossing things in your cart with an almost absentminded rhythm “I do.” He said, his voice easy and sincere as it always was with you

“You’re nurturing, you know? And patient. You make people feel safe, like they can just… be themselves around you.” He smiled “And you’re the mother of the friend group.”

He was focused on a big bottle of orange juice when he tacked on “You’d be amazing at it.”

The way he spoke made it sound so simple. But to you, it felt anything but simple. A rush of conflict swirled in your mind.

“Too bad my dating life is so stale,” you grumble, snapping him out of his obsession.

Your past experiences hadn’t been exactly pleasant. From really weird alpha-sigma-dudes trying to convince you that your worth as a woman has declined since you passed the age of 25, to insecure men that felt intimidated by your position in the working field, to just bad timing in general- it was all just��� complicated.

The cherry on top was your last relationship. You felt the bitterness creep back into your chest as you thought about him- the doctor. The one who had lied to you for over two years. Even now, the memories felt like a stab straight to your ribs. Like a snake squeezing your heart into nothingness. You gave him everything, trusted him with your heart, only to have it shattered in the cruelest way. You could still remember the disbelief in your voice when you had to confront him.

“God, how did I miss that?” You murmured underneath your breath, your grip tightening around the cart handle.

Namjoon, who had been rifling through the cart, didn’t seem to notice the dark cloud that settled over you.

“Stale? Nah, you’re daring life’s just on pause.” He said, completely unaware of how much his words stung.

“The only man I wanted to start a family with turned out to be married!” You snap. The words slipped out before you could stop them, sharp and bitter. You could feel the heat rise to your chest as the frustration spilled over, the old wound reopening with an ache. Namjoon froze mid-motion, his hand still hovering over a bag of something. The silence that followed was heavy, and you immediately regretted it.

But Namjoon, ever the perceptive one, quickly managed to draw you back in.

“That dick?” he huffed “Its better you found out early on. I can’t bear the idea of you having asshole-babies.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Namjoon’s lighthearted response, despite the lasting burn. The absurdity of ‘asshole-babies’, paired with the sincerity of his tone, almost made the bitterness dissolve. The tension in your chest shifting slightly.

He dropped the bag back into your cart and met your eyes. “You deserve someone who treats you right, who sees all the amazing things you are. You don’t need to settle for anything less.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. It was comforting to hear him speak like that, as if he believed in you more than you sometimes believed in yourself.

“Thank you love,” you said softly, your smile genuine but still fragile.

He flashed a grin, nudging you with his elbow as he walked along you towards the checkout.

“Now, what the fuck did you buy? Why are there three bottles of ketchup here?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay! I have decided.” You announce suddenly, drawing the attention of everyone at the small table to you. The murmur of laughter and clicking of glasses fades into the background, and a bubble of anticipation surrounds your little booth.

The bar is buzzing with life; particularly crowded for a Thursday evening, yet, even among the crowded mess, Jungkook still somehow managed to secure a secluded little nook for your rag-tag group of four.

You glanced around the dimly lit room, where the flickering neon lights casted playful shadows along the walls- a slight twinge of courage envelops you as the warmth of the alcohol teases your senses, coloring your cheeks bright red.

Namjoon’s brow rises, and he takes a contemplative sip from his tall glass of beer, a thoughtful expression dancing across his face. In front of you, Jungkook and Aera are deep into their third glass, laughing at some inside joke only cringey couples would make, oblivious to the rising tension radiating from your suddenly bold proclamation.

“Decided?” Namjoon echoed, setting his glass down, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips as he watches you.

Aera and Jungkook both turn their attention to you as well. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes, while Aera wiped her lips with the back of her hand, ready for whatever random revelation you were about to drop.

“I’m going to have a baby by myself!”       

The words hung in the air for a long moment, as though the entire bar had suddenly gone still. Your proclamation floating quietly through the air before crashing and tumbling on the small table between you.

Namjoon blinked, his beer halfway to his mouth, while Aera and Jungkook both froze mid-laugh, their faces a reflection of disbelief and curiosity.

“What?” Jungkook was the first to speak, his voice completely drowning in confusion.

“I already set up a college saving’s account, and I got a head start on the nursery.” You reached for a napkin, just so your fingers have something to do. “The contractor is coming over this weekend to look at the room.” You looked up to gauge their reaction, but when no one spoke, you continued “I mean, I don’t even use the at-home office. It’s perfect.”

Leaning back into the seat, you plant your elbows on the table, the rough surface grounding you as the weight of your declaration settles heavy in the air.

“Wait, wait,” Aera says after regaining her composure, her eyes slightly narrowing with skepticism. “You’re seriously saying you want to become a single parent? Just like that?”

“She’s serious.” Namjoon cuts in, setting his now-empty beer glass down on the table.

He nursed that drink for the past hours only to finish it with one long sip?

 “Trust me, this isn’t a rushed decision. She’s been toying with the idea for months.” He mumbled, leaning back into the booth.

“Yeah,” you nod confidently “The kindergarten right down the block from me has an afternoon group. So, after the baby turns three, I can start working again. And until then I should live comfortably with my savings.”

“Noona you can’t!” Jungkook looks terrorized by the thought, the alcohol just as evident on his face as it was on yours. “So what? You’ll just start fucking every Dick, Harry and Joe in town until you get knocked up?”

Under normal circumstances, the youngling would be much more careful with his words around you, but now, with the buzz going on in his head, his desperation seemed to have taken over. His eyes quickly shifting from you to his Hyung, as if pleading Namjoon to back him up.

 The atmosphere shifts as Jungkook's words slice through your carefully crafted confidence. Laughter begins to bubble back to life around you, but your own heart has started to race, confusion and boldness swirling together like a cocktail in your stomach. You stare at Jungkook.

“You know that’s not how it works.” You reply, your tone steadier than you feel. An involuntary smile creeps back onto your lips. “It’s not that simple, and I’m not looking for casual hookups. God only knows what messed up genetics those dudes have. And I run a risk of an STD.” You shake your head. “No Kookie, I have a plan.”

You take a deep breath, allowing the faint buzz of the bar to seep into your consciousness again, grounding you while your amusement at Jungkook’s pure shock begins to surface again.

“Besides, the plan isn’t just a plan; it’s a well-thought-out strategy.” You try to encourage him, but he just blinks up at you like a hurt little puppy. “I scheduled an appointment at a fertility clinic.”

“And if the plan fails? What if you’re not ready for the challenges of parenting? It’s not just about the nursery or the savings. Have you thought about the reality of it?”

Deep down, you know that Aera just wants to help, however, her questions rub you slightly the wrong way.

“Of course I have!” You assert, a tad defensively but with sincerity woven into your voice. “I’ve done my research, Aera. What it takes. What I need. There are all sorts of resources out there for single parents. It’s not like I’ll be doing this entirely alone. I have you guys, and I know I can reach out to others too if it gets too tough.”

Jungkook ran an exasperated hand down his face, grasping at straws as he mumbled, “What about your love life? This is such a huge commitment, and you’re just going to push that aside for... A child?”

You appreciate the concern, but something in you quakes at the thought of your future being dictated solely by the prospect of a romantic relationship.

“My love life is already complicated. I don’t want to put my dreams on hold for a partner that might not even come.”

“Namjoon! Say something!” Jungkook pleaded, but the gentle giant just kept on silently studying you.

“Congratulations.” Was the only thing that left his lips after a long moment, making you beam up at him as if you’d just received a gold start on a test.

“See?” you said, your smile widening as you glanced back and forth between them. “Namjoon gets it! Life’s too short to wait around for the perfect moment!”

Aera finally shook her head, a soft smile gracing her lips despite the concern in her eyes. “It’s just, we can’t help but worry for you. What if it’s harder than you think? What if you regret this choice down the line?”

You reach for her hand, squeezing it gently. “That’s the thing Aera. I’m not doing this on a whim. I’ve mapped it out. I’m prepared. I believe I can give my child the love and support they need.” You smile, glancing between Jungkook and Namjoon.

“Fine.” Jungkook relented, leaning back in his seat with a resigned sigh, his hands raised in mock surrender. “I guess if you’re really set on this… just promise you won’t forget about me when you become Super Mom or something.”

Aera rolled her eyes playfully, yet her smile remained as she leaned against his chest “As if you’d let her forget. You’d probably be the most dramatic babysitter ever.”

A ripple of laughter echoed among the three of you, the tension momentarily lifting, only Namjoon just kept on staring at the bottom of his empty beer glass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook took no mercy on Namjoon as they walked down the street. After making sure you and Aera safely got an uber home, the little drunken monster unleashed.

“Hyung! You can’t let her do this!”

Namjoon gave a soft chuckle, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He was still processing everything himself; the weight of the conversation hanging heavily on him. Jungkook, who was practically bouncing on his feet with a mix of frustration and concern, shot him an incredulous look.

“You can’t just sit back and let her make such a huge decision by herself!” Jungkook insisted, his voice rising “She’s literally planning to have a baby alone, Hyung!”

“Kookie, she’s a full-grown woman.” Namjoon began slowly, rubbing a hand over his face “And she’s not doing this impulsively. She’s been thinking about it for months.” He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully “She’s not the kind of person to just… act on a whim. She has a plan. And I think, maybe, that’s what she needs right now.” He exhaled a deep breath, looking up at the street lights overhead, his mind running through the conversations he’d had with you.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, a look of disbelief plastered on his face.

“And what about you?”

Namjoon stopped walking, his steps halting mid-stride as the question hit him like a stone wall. For a brief moment, there was nothing but the distant hum of a passing car and the quiet rustling of leaved in the evening air. He turned towards Jungkook; his eyes wide with uncertainty.

“What about me?” Namjoon asked, his voice low, the question more to himself that to Jungkook at first.

“Are we really doing this now?” Jungkook groaned “You love her. C’mon, catch up.”

Namjoon stood still, eyebrows meeting his hairline. He had always kept his feelings hidden, buried under layers of friendship and mutual understanding, the steady belief that he was just someone who needed to be there for you- no strings attached.

But now? Jungkook’s question churned him harder than he expected.

Namjoon blinked, unsure whether to laugh it off or tell him off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kookie.”

Jungkook didn’t let up. “Hyung, I’m serious. I see the way you look at her! The way you act around her! You’re not fooling anyone!”

“Yes, because she’s my friend!” Namjoon tried to protest, but Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“You don’t look at me like that!”

Namjoon’s chest tightened, his throat a little dry as he tried to force some clarity into his emotions.

“Kookie. You’re drunk, you need to sleep it off.”

Jungkook shook his head, as if he were trying to clear out the haze of alcohol clouding his mind. But the intensity of his words didn’t waver. “I’m not drunk enough to miss what’s right in front of me.” His voice softened a little “I’m just saying… maybe it’s time to stop pretending?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Namjoon repeated, but his voice wavered slightly, betraying him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday movie nights have been a staple in your relationship. Something you both held sacred since the beginning. Only under the most extreme circumstances had either of you ever canceled.  

Lately, though, you seemed to call it off more often than not. Ever since you started your weekly appointments at the clinic, Namjoon noticed he was seeing less and less of you.

But tonight, you were adamant to keep the tradition alive. The opening credits of Deadpool 3 were already up on the screen, waiting for someone to press play, while Namjoon busied himself hauling all the blankets to the couch. A spread of your favorite snacks sat neatly on the coffee table. The only thing missing was... you.

In your bedroom, you sat at in the middle of your bed, the laptop balanced on your lap as you repeatedly refreshed your email inbox.

“You ready?” Namjoon called out from the living room.

“Yeah, just a sec!” You refresh again, your face lighting up when the awaited email appeared.

Namjoon watches your reaction and laughs, “Let me guess. It’s going to be more than a second now?”

“I just got the donor list. Want to help me choose?”

Namjoon’s laughter fades, replaced by a look of concern that make your heart race. He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to gauge your enthusiasm.

“Choose?” he repeats hesitantly, “Like, pick a donor?”

“Yeah,” you respond, excitement bubbling over as you quickly type away on the computer. “You’re my friend. I want your input. It feels right.”

He bites his lip, unsure of how to process this new layer to your already documented decision. “You really want me involved in this?”

“Of course! I trust you. Plus, it’s a big step. I could use a little support.” You give him a little sheepish smile, almost hiding your face behind the screen.

Namjoon nods slowly, the weight of your request settling in. “Okay… I’m here for you.” You beam up at him, quickly patting the space next to you “Just-how do we do this?” Namjoon settled down, his eyes quickly scanning the screen.

“There’s a list of profiles with backgrounds, interests and even photos. We can look through it together.” You pause, letting him read over the page.

“This guy seems interesting.” you say pointing to a profile that catches your eye “He’s into poetry, works as a dentist and seems really kind…” but your voice dies down “Ah, but his hair line is receding.”

Namjoon leans closer. “What about this smiley one?” he asks, highlighting a profile with a striking smile.

“Nah, he has a bit of an overbite.” You move the mouse away, “I want to minimize the chances of the kid needing braces.”

Namjoon chuckles, watching you scroll through the list “Oh look! A Redhead!”

“Can I be honest?” you glance up at him, smiling once you caught his gaze “I’m not really into gingers.” You whisper, earning yourself a lighthearted laugh from him. His dimples deepen, and his eyes nearly disappear with mirth.

“You’re such a stereotype.” He teases.

You finish scrolling through the profiles. Each one eliciting more critiques than compliments.

“Too many tattoos.”

“Too much facial hair.”

A crooked nose, a weird eye color, a weird mole. Too short; too tall. That one yodels for fun. You could go on~

After a few more profiles you reached the end. “Ugh, none of these guys are right. It’s like a never-ending list of disappointments.” You groan, closing the laptop and falling back on the mattress.

Namjoon sighs dramatically, taking the laptop from your grasp and setting it on the bedside table, leaning back on the bed. “Maybe you should add a ‘no weirdo’s filter’.”

“Seriously! What’s wrong with some of these guys?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

This was already the third trial, and you still hadn’t chosen a single profile. Deep down, you knew the things you got so fixated on were merely superficial flaws, but they felt monumental when it came to deciding your future. Even with your careful planning, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were running an undeniable risk.

That is not even considering the fact that the insemination might not even work in the first place. But that only added more chances and statistics to your plan, making your head spin. So, you consciously avoided that rabbit hole.

Namjoon chuckles softly, rolling on his side to face you. For a moment he said nothing, quietly studying your frustration.

“Listen,” he finally broke the silence, his eyes reflecting a gentle resignation “I know you don’t need it; but you have my full support. Whatever- or whoever- you pick.” His smile was so sincere that it made your heart skip over a beat, and in that moment, a new, bold idea took root in your mind.

You allowed yourself a moment to admire your friend- his perfectly symmetric face, kind eyes and adorable dimples. Your gaze drifted lower, taking in his chiseled jawline, elegant neck and the contours of his collarbones, all perfectly complementing his broad shoulders and newly toned muscles.

Suddenly, that unconventional idea that popped in your mind began to feel more enticing. After all, you knew him- the little quirks, the strengths, the pet peeves. You’d met his parents’ countless times. It could actually work out. And you were confident enough in your relationship to give it a shot.

You let out a soft sigh, your heart racing as you considered the next step in your journey. Turning to face him, you bit your lip as you hesitate before speaking.

“Namjoon… can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He propped himself up on one elbow, concern flickering across his face.

You took a deep breath, gathering your ideas. “I’ve been thinking about this process, and-” You swallowed hard “It’s a big commitment. I want to make sure everything it perfect, you know?”

 He is so understanding, watching you quietly and nodding along to your ramblings.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be willing to get tested.” You rushed the words out, your gaze darting to the ceiling, avoiding his eyes.

Namjoon’s brows furrowed in confusion “Get tested? Like... for what?”

You swallowed again, trying to keep your voice steady. “For compatibility. I’d like to know the donor’s genetics, and it would really help to have your input on it. It you’re comfortable, of course.”

A heavy silence filled the room. You could feel the tension in the air as Namjoon processed your request, your heart racing louder with each passing second of his contemplative silence.

“Wait.” He finally snapped, his voice low and measured “You want me to get tested as a potential donor?”

Your palms felt clammy as you looked back at him, offering him a shy nod “Yes?”

“That’s not what I meant-” He stopped his own idea in its tracks “Won’t it make things weird between us?”

“No! Just think about it! I know you; I know your family history. I like your face. And we don’t have to tell anyone. And you can choose how much you want to be involved in the baby’s life. Like I said, I want to be a single parent.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he listened to you ramble on and on about your idea. His brows furrowed deeper, knitting together as he tried to process your words. After a few long moments of constant talking, he held up a hand, stopping your frantic speech.

“Slow down,” he instructed, his voice low and measured, “Let me get this straight- you want me to consider being a sperm donor for your child?”

You nodded eagerly, stomach twisting with emotion and heart picking up in double time. “Yes! I know it’s a lot to ask, but I trust you. We’re best friends, and it would be nice to have a personal connection to the kid’s other parent.”

He turned away from you, deep in thought running a hand through his hair in agitation. “I-I don’t know.” His throat made a weird noise “This is a lot to process.”

Suddenly feeling uncertain, you bit your lip hard. “I know, I know. And it’s totally fine if you say no. We never have to speak of this again.” You shift slightly, feeling heat rise to your neck. “I just though since we’re so close…” You mumble, losing your idea for a moment, before quickly picking it up again "It's not like we'd be raising the kid together! Just, you know...biologically related. As friends."

Namjoon sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Look, I need some time to think about this, okay? It's not a decision I can make lightly."

"Of course," you replied quickly, not wanting to pressure him. "Take all the time you need. I'm sorry for springing this on you out of nowhere."

He offered a small, reassuring smile. “It’s all right. I’m just surprised. That’s all. I’ll let you know once I’ve had a chance to really consider it.’

You nodded, feeling a mix of hope and anxiety swirling in your gut. “Thank you, Joonie. Just for thinking about it.”

He reached out, giving your hand a comforting squeeze “I’ll always be here for you.”

You returned the gesture, heart full of affection for your best friend. “I know, thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joon 🎍: Just got the tests back. Damn. Don’t even know what half these things are. Busy-bee🐝: If you bring them over, I’ll translate. 😊 Joon 🎍: Yeah. Omw rn. Did you have dinner yet? Busy-bee🐝: Nooo, can we please have Bibimbap? Joon 🎍: Anything you want, love.

Namjoon arrived a short while later, carrying a takeout bag that wafted delicious aromas through the kitchen. He set it down on the table with familiarity, fetching plates and utensils as you carefully looked over the medical results.

“Bibimbap, just as you ordered.” He said, grinning. He looked at you, his expression shifting to one of concern as he noticed the serious look on your face “Is everything okay?”

You glanced up from the papers, forcing a smile “Just trying to wrap my head around all of this.”

He slid into the chair across from you, pulling the take-out container and placing it in front of you. “Take a break from the serious stuff for a moment. Food first. Medicine later.”

You chuckle softly and opened the container, the colorful array of veggies and rice making your stomach growl. “You’re right. Can’t think on an empty stomach.”

As you began to eat, Namjoon began to rifle through the papers. “So, what’s this one?” He picked up a paper, squinting at the dense text. “I swear, some of these graphs look like they belong in a science-fiction novel.”

You giggled, nodding along “I know, right? Let me see… This one is about genetic markers for health risks, and this one,” you pointed to the colorful one “It’s about traits related to personality and intelligence.”

Namjoon let out a long-intrigued sound, “What does it say about me?”

You chuckle, trying to suppress a smile “Well, it’s not like one of those personality tests you find in a girly magazine. But it says our baby might have higher chances of being a visual learner, with higher openness to experiences.” You take a big bite, quietly chewing over the fact that you just called it ‘our baby’ – as in, you and Namjoon. Mashed together.

“Openness to experience? That’s code for ‘adventurous’ right? I think I prefer the term ‘spontaneous’.” Namjoon feigned offence, looking over the papers as if trying to confirm your diagnosis.

 “It’s another way to say you’ll jump at any wild idea.” You tease him, mouth half-full. “But it’s a good quality! You’re creative, fun and adaptable.”

He leaned in closer, curiosity piqued “And what about intelligence? Am I a genius?”

You flipped the paper around, scanning for the relevant section. “Looks like you score high on analytical thinking and problem-solving. So, I guess, in the right context, you could definitely call yourself a genius,”

“Can I add that to my cv?” he joked, before turning serious again “But does any of this affect your choice? Does it change anything for you?”

You took a moment, pondering his question as you quietly chewed your food. “I guess it just adds another layer to think about. I want the baby to have a good mix of traits, you know? If I choose a donor who has strengths like yours, it could make an indent in my favor.”

Namjoon’s expression softened, silently watching you scan the results, before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Whatever you decide, love.”

You smiled, feeling reassured as you grabbed the next paper “Thanks, love. Now, let’s see how your swimmers are doing!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a thin line between being a genius and an idiot. Namjoon liked using that line as a jumping rope. He had been called both names, sometimes within the same day. One minute he’d be diving deep into philosophical discussions, and the next he was deemed a mumbling fool simply because you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

He knows he is brilliant. His academic achievements and professional life were testament to that. A whole company depending on his decision. Yet here he was, getting grilled for the past hour by Seokjin and Taehyung for being the biggest dumbass that walked this dying earth.

“What do you mean you just agreed to be her sperm donor?” Seokjin blurted; his disbelief palpable as he leaned against Namjoon’s desk.

Namjoon just shrugged, trying to keep his cool. “It’s not as simple as that. We’ve talked about it, and I think it could work out.”

Taehyung leaned in; eyes wide with mock horror “You really jumped into this without thinking it through? Are you insane?”

“I thought about it plenty!” Namjoon retorted, frustration creeping in. “I trust her! We’re best friends. This isn’t some random decision.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk “Best friend or not, you’ll be tied to her and that kid for life!  You’d practically be family!”

"Guys, I get it," he said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. "I've thought about this a lot, and I really believe this is the right thing to do."

Taehyung shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. "You're not thinking straight, Namjoon. This is a huge decision, and you're not even considering the long-term implications."

"I am considering them!" Namjoon insisted. "I know that by agreeing to be her donor, I'm getting myself involved with her and the kid for life. But that's exactly what I want. I want to be there for them and support them in any way I can."

Seokjin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Namjoon, you're a brilliant guy. You've always been one of the smartest people I know. But sometimes, I worry that you're so focused on doing the right thing that you don't stop to consider whether it's the smart thing."

Namjoon opened his mouth to protest, but Taehyung cut him off. "He's right, Namjoon! This isn't just a textbook case. This is real life, and there are real emotions involved. You can't just apply your weird logic to everything and expect it to work out."

Namjoon sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. He knew his friends were just trying to protect him, but he couldn’t help but feel like they were overcomplicating things.

"Maybe you're right," he said after a moment. "Maybe I am an idiot for doing this. But it's a risk I'm willing to take. I trust her, and I want to be there for her. That's all that matters to me."

Seokjin and Taehyung exchanged a look, but eventually, they both nodded.

"Alright," Seokjin said. "We'll support you, no matter what. But you’re still an idiot.”

Namjoon sighed; resignation evident on his features at he turned his attention back to his computer.

“You could’ve asked her on a date and get to the baby making naturally.” Seokjin added.

“She doesn’t want a relationship.”

“Well, you can skip straight to the baby making!” Taehyung exclaimed, but Namjoon just rolled his eyes.

 “It’s not that simple, Tae...”

 Unbeknownst to Namjoon, on the other side of town, you and Sumi, your good friend and co-worker, were engaged in a strikingly similar conversation.

“So, I asked him to donate a sample.” You fidgeted with your fingers under the table, unable to meet her eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you voiced your actions. “Any thoughts?”

Sumi studies you for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. You felt the intensity of her gaze as she tries to gauge your sincerity. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Yes, and prayers,” she said softly “You need them.” She gives you that incredulous look that only the head nurses seem to master.

You blink, stunned by her response. You expected something different, something along the lines of excitement or curiosity, instead, her reaction was surprisingly tame.

“Why didn’t you just bang him?” She asks, her tone casual, no hint of professionalism in her demeanor.

Your eyes widen in shock “Ayy! Don’t say that!”

“I mean, you can cut out the clinical middle man this way,” she continued “And god knows you need to get laid.”

Your face grew hot. “That’s not the point...” you mumble.

Sumi raised an eyebrow. “Then what is the point, exactly?” She leaned back in her chair, bubble tea clasped in her hands and a smirk playing on her lips. “The baby gets made either way. This is just more fun.” She giggled “You know, Jimin told me that Namjoon used to have quite a reputation with women back in his day.”

You shift in your seat, avoiding Sumi’s probing gaze as you gathered your thoughts. The conversation has taken a turn you hadn’t anticipated, and you were struggling to find the right words.

“The point is, I want to do this the right way.” you say, aimlessly spinning the straw in your drink. “I want to give this child the best possible start in life, and that means doing things properly.”

Sumi considers your words for a moment, before nodding in understanding “I get that,” she says. “But you don’t have to be so serious all the time. You can still have fun and enjoy the process.”

You can’t help but snicker as she emphasizes the words “You sound just like Jimin,” you say, referencing her boyfriend. “He’s always telling me to lighten up and enjoy myself.”

“Well, he’s not wrong.” Sumi says with a grin. “And just so we’re clear, sex is the ‘proper way’ that normal humans use to make babies.”

You roll your eyes, “I know that.”

“Good. At least I don’t need to explain how that works.” She smirks “And I’m sure Namjoon would be more than happy to oblige.”

Suddenly, a very vivid image appears in your mind. Namjoon, hovering over you, his breath washing over your face as your hips collide together. You feel a shiver run down your spine, butterflies emerging in your stomach and quickly push the thought away.

“Make the poor guy feel more involved in the process. You’re treating him like milking cow right now.”

“God, don’t say that!” You cry out, shaking your head to clear the image from your mind. Namjoon was a gentleman, and you were grateful for his help. But the thought of asking him to sleep with you too made you uncomfortable. How would that conversation go?

Hey Joonie, since you’re already getting me pregnant, why not just fuck me?

Sumi laughed, "Well, it's an option. And sometimes, the most unconventional methods can lead to the most beautiful outcomes."

You couldn't argue with that. After all, you were about to become a single mother, and that was certainly not the conventional route.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you look across the table at her. She was watching you with a knowing smile, one that suggested she could see right through your nervous façade.

“And just think of it this way, all that money you save from all the clinic appointments can go towards buying cute baby clothes.”

That was the weakest argument yet, but still, you found yourself actually entertaining that idea.

“Do you really think he’ll agree?” as the words leave your mouth a pang of guilt strikes you. Namjoon has been nothing but kind and generous so far, and here you were, letting your horny thoughts take over. You respect and value your friendship more than the need to ‘make things fun’. You can’t do anything to jeopardize that.

“Trust me babe,” Sumi sounds so casual in her conviction. She’s right thought- sometimes, the unconventional ways do lead to the most favorable outcomes. And you can’t deny the spark that ignites in your chest whenever you think about Namjoon.

And this way, you can have more control over the situation. The amount, the frequency. The position….

After all, all the pregnancy and fertility books you’d read recommended that a deep connection is important when it comes to getting pregnant.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers again. “I mean, it’s not like I can just ask him to sleep with me.”

Sumi chuckles and takes a sip of her bubble tea. "Why not? You're two consenting adults, and you both want the same thing. It's not like you're asking him to marry you or anything."

You can't help but roll your eyes at her flippant attitude. "Yeah, I know, but it's not that simple. Namjoon is a good friend, and I don't want to ruin that. Plus, I don't know if I'm ready for something so...intimate with him."

Sumi raises an eyebrow. "Intimate? Girl, you're already asking him to donate his sperm. How much more intimate can you get?"

You take a deep shaky breath, trying to lower your blood pressure as you absorbed her words. She has a point- you hate it, but she has a point.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” you finally say, meeting her gaze. Sumi just smirks at you, clearly pleased with that response.

“That’s all I can ask for.” She says, taking another sip from her bubble tea. “And remember, there’s no rush. Take your time and do whatever feels right.”

You nodded, feeling the heaviness in your chest swirl. You knew this was a big decision, and you don’t want to take any part of it lightly. But you also can’t ignore the possibilities that lay ahead.

As the conversation turns to other topics, your thoughts wandered back to Namjoon. You imagined his kind smile, his gentle nature, and his unwavering support. And you can help but let your mind fantasize.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Busy-bee🐝: Need to ask you smth. Joon 🎍: If it’s about the sample, I’m omw to drop it off at the clinic now. Busy-bee🐝: NoooOooOoo Busy-bee🐝: Stop! Busy-bee🐝: Pls don’t. Joon 🎍: Did you change your mind? Busy-bee🐝: No. Not quite. Joon 🎍: Quite? What happened? What do I do now? Busy-bee🐝: Can you just come over? Joon 🎍: Sure? But just so you know. I have a jar of sperm with me. Busy-bee🐝: Yyuckkk Joon 🎍: Don’t worry. It’s sealed. Busy-bee🐝: Still gross, lol. Just hurry. Need to talk.

While you waited for him to arrive, your heart pounded in your chest. You paced around your apartment in your pajamas, desperately searching for something- anything to clean or organize. The conversation with Sumi replayed in your mind, her words echoing as you contemplated your options thoroughly.  

You couldn’t possibly complicate things with Namjoon, could you?

A soft knock on the door breaks you out of your reverie. And with a deep breath, you open it to find Namjoon standing there, casual and charming, in a green hoodie and ripped jeans, the familiar warm smile lighting up his face.

“Hey,” he says, stepping inside “What’s up? You sounded urgent.”

“Um, yeah…” you close the door behind him and gestured for him to sit on the couch. “I wanted to talk about the… um, sample?”

He raises an eyebrow “Didn’t you just say not to take it to the clinic?”

You wince sightly, still grappling with how to express what you really wanted to say. “Well, I was thinking…maybe we can talk about the process?”

Namjoon settles down, giving you his full attention, confusion clearly evident on his face “What’s on your mind?”

“Sumi mentioned that-” You stop, allowing yourself a second to gather your fraying thoughts, “Well, since we’re both consenting adults…I thought it would be more medically apt to try this with a more ‘hand-on’ approach.”

He nodded, listening closely as he rubbed his chin. A cliché lightbulb suddenly going off in his mind and Namjoon’s eyes widened as he took you in.

“Are you suggesting you what I think you’re suggesting? Because if you’re not my mind went to a very inappropriate place.” He asks, his tone light but serious.

You stammer, nodding slowly as heat flooded your face and neck. “I mean, it’s just an idea. We’re both single…” you trail off, staring at a painting on the wall, “I know it’s unconventional, but I just want to make sure everything’s… right.”

He leans back, quietly considering your words, “It’s definitely a bigger step. Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

As he leaned back on the couch, he spread his legs wider, getting comfortable and invertedly drawing your attention to his well-toned thighs, making your mouth go dry.

“Honestly,” you force yourself to look him in the eye. “I don’t know. But I like the idea of us being more connected during the- that. It feels… outlined better?” you sighed exasperated with your own brain for not cooperating.  “But I don’t want it to ruin our friendship. You mean a lot more to me.”

“You mean a lot to me too, and don’t worry,” he says, “I promise the friendship will remain intact.” He paused for a moment, “And I also agreed once, so yeah, I’m here for you whatever you decide.”

A quiet moment passes as you let his words sink in. His expression was earnest, and the sincerity in his voice offered a reassuring warmth. It was comforting to know that, no matter what weird direction you decide to go in, Namjoon would still treat you like a priority. You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Really? You’d be okay with that?”

“Of course,” Namjoon replied, “If your plan needs me here five times a week, then I’ll be here.”

A deep red blush creeps up your neck to settle on your cheeks, as your mind quietly conjures up the scenario where five nights in a row, Namjoon comes over and bends you over every surface in your apartment.

You smiled, a wave of excitement washing over you, but beneath that smile, your mind raced and your heart fluttered. This was a significant decision, and you needed to approach it strategically!

“The plan requires we lay down some ground rules first,” you say, shifting your tone to a more analytical one, “We need to define what this would look like for both of us. Like boundaries, approach and what we’re comfortable with.”

As you sit down next to him, your heart still pounds in your chest. “Okay, so, here’s what I was thinking,” you begin after a drawn-out breath, “We should approach this like a partnership, with communication and mutual respect. We’ll need to set some rules and make sure we’re both comfortable.”

“That makes sense. I want you to feel safe throughout this process. What kind of boundaries did you have in mind?”

 “Well, for starters, we should only do this when we’re sober and well-rested. And we should check in with each other beforehand to make sure we’re on the same page.” You scratch at the back of your neck, looking away for a second.

“That’s a good start.”

“And it’s about the baby making.” You add.

“We already established that.” Namjoon nods, a serious look on his face.

“Are you comfortable with a more casual approach or do you think we should be more clinical about it?”

“Casual. Definitely.” Namjoon shakes his head at the idea of doing it in a sterile white room, a shiver running down his spine. But he quickly composes himself and in turn asks you, “What about after? Do we tell people about this, or keep it to ourselves?”

You took a moment to chew on your bottom lip, considering the implications, even though you’ve thought about this before.

“We should keep it to ourselves for the moment being. Even if almost everyone knows you donated, they don’t need to know…” you trail off again, the blush deepening “How.”

Namjoon nods in understanding, “I can respect that. I don’t want any unnecessary drama.” He gave you a reassuring smile.

You take another deep breath, and allow the sense of relief that comes with his smile wash away any lingering discomfort.

“Thank you. I really appreciate everything you’re doing.

Namjoon reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here for you, no matter what. And I want you to know that I'm not doing this out of a sense of obligation. I genuinely care about you and want to help you achieve your dream of becoming a mother."

Your heart swells with emotion at his words. "Thank you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That means more to me than you could ever know."

You sit there for a moment, hands intertwined in silence. The weight of your decision quietly sinking in around you.

“I think the next thing we need to set is a schedule,” you say, ruining the moment. “It’s important we’re consistent about this, for the best possible outcome.”

“How often do you think we should try?”

“The research suggests that every other day is a good-enough frequency. But we can see how it works out and adjust afterwards.”

“Every other day. Got it.” He confirms, then asks the only important question of the night:

“When do we start?”

Your heart stops right in its tracks, even as you distract yourself by suddenly reaching to grab your phone, “Let me look at my cycle.” You mumble, opening the fertility tracking app you’d been using.

As you scroll through the app, you felt Namjoon’s presence loom closer, curiosity evident of his face. “How does that work exactly?”

“Do you need me to explain a period to you?” You tease, small smile breaking you from your serious poise.

“No. I just-” Namjoon took a deep breath, nervousness lingering on the edge of his voice as he ran a hand through his hair, “I’m just thinking out loud here, but why wait?”

An audible gasp leaves you lips when you look up at him.

The air between you crackles with electricity, and you suddenly realize just how close you were. In that moment you could almost feel the weight of your actions begin to unravel.

You lock eyes, the tension thickening as you ponder his suggestion. Taking a shaky breath, your heart thunders, and you struggle to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

"Are you sure?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "I mean-"

Namjoon nods, leaning closer to you, his voice steady "I'm sure."

You bite your bottom lip, your mind racing as you try to decide whether or not to take the leap. You've always been a planner, someone who likes to have everything mapped out in advance, but for once in your life, you find yourself wanting to throw caution out the window.

It couldn’t possibly hurt; in fact, it might prove to be beneficial. You’d get the awkward stage over with quickly, instead of letting it simmer while waiting for your fertile window.

Why let nervousness and anticipation settle in when he’s right here, sitting on your couch looking absolutely delectable?

You quickly go over your mental check-list, feeling grateful that you showered and shaved just before he arrived. Your Pj’s are cute, and while your underwear isn’t the sexiest, it’s decent- either way, this isn’t about passion; it’s practical.

You were almost done chewing your lip off when you feel his thumb gently touch your chin, stopping you.

“Only if you want.”

“I can’t remember if I made my bed this morning.” You whisper sheepishly, pulling him out of his serious demeanor. His heartfelt laughter weaving through the tension that hung between you.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m here,” You giggle, shaking your head and throwing your phone somewhere on the couch. “Let’s do this.”

Namjoon’s smile broadens as he stands up, extending his hand to you. You almost hesitate for just a moment before placing your hand in his, letting him  pull you up from the couch and in his arms. Heat radiates off his body as he leans in, his hand gently brushing your hair away from your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, closing your eyes as his breath lingers just above your lips.

Then, he kisses you.

At first, it’s gentle, his lips barely brushing over yours, a subtle invitation for you to take the lead. His lips taste faintly like mint from Chapstick, soft and warm, and soon the kiss deepens with a surge of passion. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, feeling the heat between you build. Namjoon’s hands glide to your back, exploring you with a leisurely touch that sends waves of excitement through you.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck, and you tilt your head back, moaning softly when he gently nibbles on your ear.

“You’re adorable.” He whispers, his hands moving to the front of your shirt to cup your breasts. You gasp as he teases your nipples through your shirt, and with a flicker of courage, your hands slip under his hoodie, feeling the hard lines of his abs under your fingertips.

Namjoon smirks at you as you tug his hoodie upward, but he helps you pull it off, revealing his bare chest and you run your fingers over his toned muscles, feeling his heartbeat beneath your touch.

“Joonie, you’re so jacked.” You say with an airy laugh, feeling a surge of confidence pulse through you. “God, I need you.” Taking his hands in yours, you guide him towards the bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

Walking ahead, you can feel a wave of self-consciousness wash over you, even as you remind yourself that this is just Namjoon—the man who always chooses his words carefully and who’s always there for you. But any hesitation melts away when you reach the bedroom. You push the door open, and with renewed vigor, you quickly shed your shirt and bra, moving on to your pants.

Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of you standing there in just your underwear. Though he fights to remain respectful, the hunger in his gaze is unmistakable when you bend down to throw your clothes in the corner of the room.

When you face him again, his lips capture yours, silencing whatever you were about to say. His tongue delves into your mouth, teasing and exploring, and you respond eagerly, his touch sending a thrill of excitement through you.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He murmurs, his mouth leaving a trail of fire down your neck and shoulders. You arch into his touch, your eagerness growing with every lingering touch.

When his mouth finally finds your breasts, he captures one in his mouth and starts teasing it with the lightest graze of his teeth. A sharp gasp escapes you, a rush of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

Your hands fumble with the button of his jeans, desperate to feel him against you. But struggling to push his jeans down, Namjoon steps back just enough to help you, letting you slide them off with ease.

Taking a moment, you stop to gawk at his arousal straining against his boxers. Damn, you had a feeling he was equipped. He just carried that air about him.   But nothing could have prepared you for how massive he actually was. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, sends a new wave of heat through your body, and you find yourself biting your lip in eager anticipation.

You can’t help but stare, taking in his impressive size. He truly is a giant, with broad shoulders, a muscular chest, and an impressive cock. You can’t wait to feel him against you, inside of you, filling you up all the way.

But Namjoon has other ideas. He kneels in front of you, his hands moving to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before pulling you closer. He plants a series of soft kisses along your stomach and thighs, each one sending waves of electricity coursing through you.

“Can I take these off?” he asks against your thigh, playfully snapping the elastic of your panties. And unable to speak, you nod.

With a quick tug, Namjoon hooks his fingers around the elastic and pulls, leaving you completely bare before him. You gasp as the cold air brushes against your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he looks up at you, his gaze intense and full of determination.

You take a moment to savor the image before you: Namjoon kneeling, his eyes dark with desire, radiating an intensity that makes it seem like he could devour you whole. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and without hesitation, he places one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing your inner thigh while his fingers move to your folds. A jolt of pleasure shoots down your spine as he finds your clit, rubbing tight, deliberate circles against it.

“So wet.” He breaths against you, sending shivers through your body. He glances up at you one last time, seeking your permission with his gaze.

“Namjoon, wait,” you say, gently pushing him away. “This isn’t how we make a baby.”

God, the hold he had over you was intoxicating, making it nearly impossible to refocus and regain your composure.

He chuckles, the hunger in his eyes still smoldering. “No, but this is going to make you feel really, really good.” He replied, his voice a low rumble, hands still holding you steady by the hips.

“I know. But this isn’t about feeling good.” You insist, your hand dropping from his hair and your leg from his shoulder.

Namjoon almost looks disappointed as you step away from him, but then he nods, understanding the importance of your goal.

“Right, I got carried away.”

“Here, just sit on the bed,” you instruct, offering a hand to help him up. Namjoon obeys, perching himself on the edge of the bed, his gaze locked onto you, tracking your every step as you approach. 

Removing his boxers, you’re awestruck once again by the sight of his pretty cock—big, veiny and heavy with a flushed pink tip, leaking precum. Namjoon reclines slightly, his hands resting behind his head, watching you straddle him. You spit into your hand, wrapping it around his hardness to pump him a few times before positioning him at your entrance, slowly sinking down on him.

You both let out a sigh of pleasure as he fills you completely. A soft whimper escapes you as you bottom out, and you bury your face in his shoulder as his hands move to your hips, his thumbs tracing gentle circles in a soothing rhythm.

“Are you okay?” he whispers in your hair.

“Yeah, give me a second,” you reply, taking a deep breath as you adjust to the stretch, his warmth filling you completely. After a moment, you straighten up, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. “It’s been a while.”

Namjoon nods, his gaze soft as he steadies you, guiding you into a rhythm. Rising and sinking back down, you gasp at the sensation of being this stuffed, bracing your hands on his chest for balance as you start to rock your hips, grinding against him.

At first, you move slowly, savoring the feeling, but soon your pace quickens, spurred by the intensity building in your lower stomach.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Namjoon encourages, squeezing your hips to help you maintain your rhythm. Your quiet moans blending beautifully with the sound of skin meeting skin, filling the room with your shared pleasure.

Before long, your thighs start to burn, but the growing tension inside you keeps you bouncing on his cock. You were almost there; Namjoon could sense it too in the way your walls flutter around him. One of his hands slips between your bodies, fingers deftly finding your clit and stroking it with perfect precision.

And once he feels you getting too tired to continue, Namjoon takes over, trusting up into you with powerful, steady strokes that meet your faltering movements. The intensity of his pace, mixed with his fingers that never slowed, push you right over the edge, sending you spiraling into bliss.

You cry out as waves of pleasure ripple through you, your orgasm shaking you to your core. Namjoon groans, feeling you clench around him as your body crashes against his chest. His hands grip your ass tightly, and his thrusts grow erratic as he chases his own release, his breathing ragged and soft whimpers escaping his lips. Each sound spurs another clench from you, drawing him even closer to the edge.

“Come on, baby,” you whisper in his ear, fingers gently massaging his scalp as you let him use your spent body however he pleases. “Just let go.”

With a loud, drawn-out moan, Namjoon buries himself deep inside you, and you feel his hot, sticky cum filling you completely. A cry escaped you, muffled against his shoulder as you sink your teeth into his soft skin, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

Your body slowly relaxes, breaths still coming out in quick, shallow gasps.

Namjoon looks over at you, a satisfied smile softening his expression, and a deep, unexpected sense of connection settles over you, an intimacy unlike anything you’ve felt before. Leaning in, you kiss him slowly, silently thanking him for the experience

As you pull away, you roll to lie beside to him, your legs still intertwined. Staring up at the ceiling, a warm contentment fills you, grounding you in the quiet rhythm of his steady breathing.

“Thank you,”

 “Anything for you, love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6:30 AM- Your alarm rings.

You bolt upright, momentarily forgetting you were meant to wake up, letting out a little groan as you flop back onto the pillow.

“Why do you wake up so fucking early?”

The voice behind you startles you, and you remember with a rush that Namjoon ended up spending the night. His deep, early morning voice sends a flutter of butterflies through your stomach, memories of last night’s activities rushing back to you.

“Usually I do my yoga,” you mumble back, “and after that I shower and get ready for work.” You yawn, stretching all your limbs, before settling right back in his arms, snuggling closer.

“Why?”

“Because we can’t all afford to sleep till noon.” You tease.

Namjoon chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Fair point. But I could get used to sleeping in with you.”

You smile, your heart picking up at the thought. “Maybe I’ll let you join my morning routine someday.” You stay nestled in his arms for a few more moments, enjoying the comfort of his warmth. But soon, the call of nature interrupts your peaceful morning.

With a reluctant sigh, you wiggle out of his embrace. “I’ll be right back.” You say, glancing over your shoulder at him.

Namjoon nods, sleepy smile on his face as he watches your naked body, before he snaps himself out of it.

“Are you going to take a pregnancy test?”

You chuckle as you swing your legs off the bed and pad softly towards the bathroom. “It’s too early. That would be a waste of a test.”

The cold floor contrasts with the warmth you just left behind, and as you close the door, you can’t help but grin, thinking about how nice it is to have him there with you. 

You quickly go about your business, splashing some water on your face to wake yourself up. After a moment you finish up and head back to the bedroom. Namjoon is still lounging against the pillows, his eyes slightly glazed but filled with warmth.

“Back already?” he asks, sleepy smile spreading across his face.

“Yeah,” you walk over to your closet, rifling through your clothes as you decide what to wear. The soft morning light filtering through the windows, casing a warm glow over the room. Once you’re all done you walk over to him, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“I’m heading out. I’ll leave the spare key in the kitchen for you.” You say, feeling a mix of excitement and reluctance to leave.

He smiles, his dimples showing up on his cheeks, “Thanks, I’ll take good care of it…”

You laugh lightly, leaning in again, this time kissing him.

“God, if anything, I hope out baby gets your dimples.” You confess, your heart swelling at the thought.

His expression softens, a hint of surprise lighting up his eyes. “That would be adorable.” He says, a smile spreading across his face, and this time he leans in to kiss you. So soft and sweet, almost convincing you to join him back in bed. You need to place a hand on his chest to pull away, a deep red blush spreading across your face.

“I’ll text you later.”

“It’s a plan.” He smiles, watching you walk away, taking the warmth in the room with you. When the bedroom clicks shut, he finally feels like he can breathe again.

He was a walking disaster. Books will be written about his sheer foolishness, how he willingly tosses aside logic and reason in your presence.

Yet, deep down, he recognized that beneath his eager exterior lay a selfish yearning- a desire for you, wholly and completely, all to himself.

But for as long as you would have him, even like this, with weirdly restricted intimacy, he would give you everything you ask for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the following months, you two manage to establish a working system. The spare key was Namjoon’s now, and he had a dedicated drawer in your closet for his things.

His toothbrush quietly chilling next to yours in the master bathroom.

Along the way, you uncovered a surprising list of things you never imagined you’d learn about your best friend;

Like the fact that he is a talker, loving the way you’d clench around him when he spills pure filth in your ear. He talks you through your climaxes, encouraging you to lose yourself, and cheering you on as if you were competing in a marathon each time.

He also had a habit of giving you all kinds of pet-names, sweet endearments that easily fell from his lips. “Sweetheart”, “Baby”, “Honey”, “Lovely”. However, your favorite was probably the time he accidentally called you a ‘busy bee’ in the middle of one of his ecstatic hazes. The unexpected nickname bringing a smile to your face, even as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure he unleashed within you.

He also had a thing for hickeys. Your breasts now fully decorated with blooming red love-marks, after you scolded him for leaving one right under your collar bone for the whole world to see.

For two weeks, you only wore turtlenecks because of him.

But what stood out the most was his seemingly endless stamina. If it wasn’t for your insistence to take it easy, he would very willingly fuck you until the early morning light.

Much like he was doing right now…

But it was Saturday. You decide you could afford to sleep in.

You could feel him right in your stomach, a ring of cum forming at the base of his cock as he kept on pounding into your abused pussy.

One of your legs over his shoulder, and the other one around his hip, pulling him closer as he kept on trusting into you. You tried your best to move with him, meeting his rapid movements, but you got lost in the pleasure when his finger flicked your clit. You almost scream reaching your climax for the nth time, your body shaking with the force of the release. Namjoon didn’t slow down though, instead picking up the pace as he chased his own orgasm.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he growled “Not gonna stop til’ I fill you up with my cum. That’s what you want, right angel? Want to be stuffed full? Have it dripping out of you when I’m done?” he rendered you a completely useless, weakly moaning back at his filth.

“God, if you’re not pregnant after this.” He groans in your neck, making you shiver again.

The moon was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the room. Engulfing him completely in a silvery haze, and you couldn’t help but admire the beautiful man on top on you. His closed eyes, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, his lips parted in pure ecstasy. You almost couldn’t believe this was your best friend, the person who knew you better than anyone else in the world.

Namjoon reaches his own climax, and you clenched around him, milking every last drop eagerly.

 He collapses on top of you, your bodies slick with sweat, yet you just lay there, wrapped in his arms as the night quietly carried on.

This was the new normal, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After a little while, Namjoon pulls out, quickly grabbing a napkin from the nightstand to wipe away any excess cum before it stains your sheets. You winced at the touch, feeling sore in the best of ways.

“I’m sorry baby. I went a little hard.” He says after discarding the napkin, pulling you closer to him.

You lay there, spent and satisfied in his arms, a little chuckle escaping you at the absurdity of ‘little’ being the past four hours. “Rough day at work?” you ask, looking up, your fingers gently pushing the hair away from his forehead.

“You have no idea,” he huffs, glancing away “With the business trip coming up I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“You’re leaving on a trip?” you stand up straight, looking down at him, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“Yeah baby, I told you I’m leaving on the 5th.” He replies, his voice twinged with exhaustion.

“That is this month?” You fumble out of the bed to grab your calendar from the desk, turning all the lights on and flipping through it.

Has it been two months already? How come you’re not pregnant already?

You quietly look over the pages, calculating exactly what day you should be getting your period on. And your heart raced when you realized;

Last week. This might be it. You might be pregnant already.

“Oh my god, Namjoon!” you giggle like a little girl, jumping and spinning around the room. “This might be it! I’m one week late!”

Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise, and he grabs your arm, pulling you back on the bed. The calendar flying away somewhere as he places his hand on your still-flat belly.

“Really?”

You nodded, a big smile completely taking over your face

“Yeah really.” You giggle “I mean, can’t know for sure, but I’m one week late.” You insist, almost kicking your legs with excitement.

No way you were going back to sleep after this. Instead, you jump back up, running around the room like a little tornado, gabbing your clothes and rushing to the bathroom to shower.

You needed to schedule a doctor’s appointment, go buy the last of the supplies, pick a color for the nursery and look up all the forms needed for maternity leave.

Namjoon sat in the silence of your bedroom, listening to the water from the shower run as you chaotically prepare and plan your future. The thought leaves him feeling a little empty, knowing he is not a part of that plan.

He wanted to invite you to join him for the business trip in Singapore, the plane tickets bookmarked and ready to be purchased. Even if he’d be busy working, the thought of having you nearby calmed his nerves about the whole ordeal. But now he hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea. With everything getting more complicated- especially the possible pregnancy- his feelings were tangled between simply wanting to support you and grappling with the deeper emotions he couldn’t ignore.

“Do you think you can handle building a crib?” you ask when you return form the bathroom.

 But only silence greeted you, with no sign of Namjoon left behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life had this way about it. One moment you’re riding high, and the next one you’re struggling to comprehend the fragility of human nature.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, yet it still stings when your plan doesn’t perfectly match reality.

You plan a future with a man, only to be confronted with the painful truth that you’ve been the second woman all along. Shaking you to your core and ruining any future relationships for you along the way.

You take the leap, decide to get pregnant, and for a moment, it feels like everything is finally falling into place. But then that red dark spot appears, shattering all your dreams and hard work.

You didn’t need the pregnancy test anymore- not when your period arrives unexpectedly at the hospital office. Yet, you still find yourself staring at the little stick resting on your desk while Sumi draws a blood sample.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asks, pressing a sterile swab to your arm before continuing. Her voice is gentle, but you can only hear the concern beneath it. You nod, though uncertainty lingers in your mind, and the weight of your reality feels heavier than ever.

You spend the rest of the day meticulously reviewing the hospital’s schedules, throwing yourself in the comforting security that the numbers and graphs provide. You check supplies, organize the timetables, and ensure that no section of the hospital is backed up. Each task grounds you, allowing you to focus on something tangible amid the chaos swirling in your mind. 

At around noon you get the message from the testing facility. Deep down, you already knew the blood work would come back negative, just like the test stick, but it still shattered the last glimmer of hope you had left.

You read the message again, trying to process the words, but they blur together as a wave of disappointment washed over you. The sterile walls of the hospital suddenly feel suffocating, and the rhythm of the bustling environment seems to fade into the background.

You take a deep breath, fighting back tears. Great. Now you were hormonal too.

You force yourself to push through the day, focusing on tasks, but the ache in your chest still lingers.

Joon 🎍: Are we still on for tonight? Baby-momma 🐝: Nah. Got my period. Joon 🎍: Shit. Are you okay? Baby-momma 🐝: Shit pretty much sums it up. Baby-momma 🐝: But I’ll be fine. Joon 🎍: Well, it’s Sunday. We could just watch a movie…. Haven’t done that in a while. Joon 🎍: I’ll even pick up your favorite greasy foods if you agree.

You smile at your phone, feeling the warmth spread through you despite the heaviness of the day. The idea of sharing a cozy movie night with him feels like a welcomed escape. You type back quickly, your heart lifting just a bit.

Baby-momma 🐝: That sounds nice. I could use a distraction✨ Joon 🎍: Great. I’ll be over after work.

 When the working day is finally over, you make your way home, quickly going through the motions. You shower, tidy up a bit, and set up the living room for the movie night, arranging blankets and laying out an array of snacks across the coffee table.

Namjoon said he’s be there by 7, but as the clock ticks closer to 9, you find yourself bored out of your mind. You glance at your phone for any updates, but there’s nothing. You try to distract yourself with a show, but your mind keeps wandering to what could delay him.

Just as you consider sending a text, you hear the key turning in the lock. The door swings open, and Namjoon steps inside, a smile breaking across his face.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Got caught up in a meeting.” He says, holding the bag of junk food.

You feel a rush of relief as he walks in the familiar warmth of his presence instantly lifting your spirits. “You made it just in time.” You say, gesturing to the setup.

He chuckles, placing the bag on the coffee table.  “I got you one of those abominable triple chocolate cakes you like.” He settles in besides you, unpacking the bag and you can’t help but smile up at him.

“God, I love you.” You grin digging in, completely unaware to what effect your words have on him. He pauses for a moment, a hint of surprise flickering across his face, before returning your smile with a warmth that sends your heart racing.

As you both dig into the food, Namjoon seems a bit more pensive than usual, his smile lingering as he watches you blissfully enjoy the cake. You almost moan out loud after the first bite, your face surprisingly similar to the one you have when you reach your climax.

After a moment he clears his throat, looking away as a deep shade of red takes over his ears.

“Hey, I was thinking,” he begins, glancing at you with a hint of hesitation. “You know that I have that business trip coming up.”

“Yeah,” you’re barely paying him any attention.

“I’d really love for you to join me.”

Your head snaps up, surprise lighting up your features. “Wait, really? You want me to come?”

He meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Yeah, I think it would be great. I’ll be busy with meetings, but we can explore together in the evenings. It’ll be fun.”

You can’t help but smile, feeling a rush of excitement. “If I can get off work, sure. Just tell me when to book my tickets.”

Namjoon’s face lights up with relief and happiness. “Yeah, I’ll send you the details as soon as I can.”

You giggle, already daydreaming about the adventure ahead.

“Next week, no?”

“Yeah.” he replies, taking a big mouthful of his burger. You grin, excited at the thought that by that time you would also be done with your period.

“Ah! There’s a medical conference happening around that time too. It would be so cool if they aligned,” you say your excitement bubbling over.

Namjoon nods, his eyes lighting up. “That would be perfect! You could network while I’m in meetings.”

“Exactly! I’ll look into it!” you say, feeling the anticipation grow. The idea of a trip filled with both work and exploration feels like just the right remedy for your disappointment, reigniting a spark of hope.

The duality of man.

[ceilidho]

If you haven't already, can you write a second part to house cleaner reader for ghost? I really liked it and would love a pt 2

i don't know about a full on sequel bc my muse is fickle and hard to catch but i can give you a little snippet?

The first time you slip into Simon’s bed, you swear it’ll be the first and last time. 

It’s not an accident—you made the decision deliberately. You just hope the circumstances lend your excuse some credence.

“Accidentally let a moth in,” you mumble into the pillow when you spot him standing in the doorframe. He has to duck his head a little to come in. 

Of course he picks today of all days to come home. 

His eyebrows come up as if in surprise, but you can see the slightest trace of amusement in his eyes. You pull the blankets up to your neck, conscious that you’re garbed in only sleep shorts and a tank top that’s several years old. It keeps riding up when you toss and turn in your sleep. 

Your head’s still a little foggy with sleep; you managed to catch up on all of an hour of sleep before the sound of your name in the deep timber of his voice had hooked you out of your dreams. Not that you remember what you were dreaming. 

You’d been curled up like a little woodland creature in his bed, nose stuffed in the pillow that still seemed to carry the lingering trace of his smell. In his absence, it’s easy to forget that he does have a smell; rich and layered, like gunpowder and smoke, like it clings to him barnacle-tight, like it’s caked under his nails and in the fine blond strands of his hair. You take a deeper breath in. 

Simon’s still clothed in the thick tactical gear you saw him off in several weeks ago. The tube scarf is pulled down to around his neck, exposing his face. It always leaves you hungry, eyes roaming over the blunt cut of his jaw greedily, watching it undulate when he yawns. It’s covered with rough new scruff, like he only started letting it grow out within the last day or so. 

“Simon?” you ask, humiliation still biting you at being found in his bed.

“Been on the road for bloody near four hours,” he grunts, hands coming up to start peeling away the layers covering him. 

It takes you a second to remember to avert your eyes. You keep your gaze fast on the floor, but the sound of velcro ripping off and drawers opening leaves your face hot, almost feverish. If you touch your cheek now, you’re sure you’ll find them burning. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” The comforter is still clasped to your chest when you go to sit up and you’re not sure what the plan was. To walk all the way back to your room with his blanket around you? “I’m gonna go—I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s so embarrassing, I just—I really don’t like moths.”

Whatever the plan was, it disintegrates to dust when he steps to the side of the bed that you were trying to slip off and plants a hand on your bare shoulder, pushing you back. 

“You really got to quit it with the sir, love,” Simon grunts, using the hand on your shoulder to guide you farther back onto the bed. Your heart goes a little haywire in your chest when he lifts the comforter to give himself room to climb in. “‘Least when we’re not in bed.”

You aren’t going to read into those words too closely. Your mind already feels sluggish, groggy, like waking up out of a bad nap with the headache still chasing you, and if you try to examine what he means by that, it’s just going to get worse. You let him rearrange you how he sees fit, slipping back down under the sheets and letting him turn you over onto your side.

“You’re not going to shower?” you mumble, eyelids already drooping shut. You only flinch a little when he hooks an arm around your waist and tugs you back into his chest. His scent is richer than usual, dappled with old sweat and smoke. 

“We can have one later. Getting some shut eye for now. Brew later, when we’ve got some rest.”

[milliesfishes]

ok but like what if someone hurts you and you don’t wanna tell billy about it bc you don’t wanna start something but he sees it and gets REALLY protective and starts asking a bunch of questions? also i love you❤️

I love you too anon ❤️❤️❤️ @phantomamor , @francixoxoxo no need to recount the votes

౨ৎ꣑ৎyou get hurt and don't tell billy౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid TW: violence by man

Your side was aching. The throbbing sensation shot fingers of pain like the roots of a tree squiggling across your midsection, causing you to wince as you got down from your horse. The air was crisp, the thin fabric of your coat doing little to keep you safe from the winter chill. You winced, hand flying to the affected area as you planted one foot on the ground, and then the other, snow and ice crunching under your boot. You petted the horse's neck, trying to breathe through the pain.

It had been a long time coming. This seemed to happen whenever you went into town. The same man would approach you, ask where you were going and what you were doing and you'd brush him off. His intentions were anything but pure- you could see it all too clearly from the look in his eyes.

All the while you ran your errands today you kept to yourself, letting your hair curtain your cheeks. It was best to keep your head down, you'd discovered, to not answer any questions and simply pretend he wasn't there. Surely it would work this time.

You managed to get through it all without him speaking to you again. As you packed your purchases into your saddlebags you finally allowed yourself a sigh of relief. Finally you could look forward to making your way back home.

But like a shadow, the man reappeared, and this time he was close enough for you to smell the sickly sweet of alcohol on his breath. Your shoulders had tensed, and a dart of fear hit you dead center. He said something you couldn't hear due to your pounding heart.

There was a beat of silence when you failed to respond, hoping he would go away. You held your breath, stiffening, wishing Billy were here.

It happened in an instant that your memory discarded immediately. The dirt was beneath your palms, skinning your hands raw and bloody. Your knees hit the earth with a dull thud. Ice. The snow became crimson and the cold nearly buckled your elbows. But you held yourself up, an overwhelming pain in your side tearing at the numbness like scissors. Voices were muffled around you.

You could hear the man shouting, his words slurred. An outlaw's whore, he called you. Taking in a shaky breath, you tried to regather yourself, hastily put your pieces back together.

A kind soul helped you up. You thanked them distractedly. When you were asked if you were okay you nodded, fingers curling to cover your hands. The ride home was blurry. There was hardly anything to do other than grasp the reins and stare straight ahead. Your choice of protection from the temperature hardly made any difference. All your senses were fuzzy.

As you now treaded toward your little dwelling, a sense of dread overwhelmed you, the dull shield dissolving to reveal a blizzard of feelings flurrying around in your chest. You knew Billy was home- he wasn't able to leave much these days. Wanted posters bearing his face had spread the town limits like a plague, keeping him from being at your side. Even as he'd watched you leave the house this morning you could tell he wasn't fond of the idea. His sweetheart moseying into town all by herself? It was unthinkable.

You uncurled your hands, surveying the dried blood that crystallized on your palms. It stung, adding to the hurt in your knees and your side, which had hit the ground first.

Kneeling and putting the pressure on your lower leg rather than your kneecaps, you plunged your hands into a mound of icy white, teeth sinking into your lip so you wouldn't make any noise. Mussing around your fingers, when you lifted them it left bloody palm prints in the previously pale substance. At least your hands were cleaner now, even if you were shivering.

Standing, you kicked more snow over the evidence. No need for Billy to come out later and find it. He'd have questions, and you didn't want to answer any. He had enough to worry about these days.

Stomping your feet at the makeshift porch, you twisted the door handle and made your way inside. Billy was kneeling in front of the fire, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He stared into the flames, endlessly contemplating.

You hung your hat by the door and toed off your boots, setting your bag down. He looked up, a grin broadening his lips. As you smiled back at him, your chin quivered from the cold. He waited until you took your coat off before reaching a hand out. "C'mere."

Gratefully you took it, letting him pull you into the cocoon of his arms. He dragged the corners of the blanket around you too, tangling your legs with his. Billy swayed back and forth just slightly, one big hand rubbing up and down your back in hopes that the friction would inject warmth back into your body.

He kissed your cheek, nosing against it. "How was town?" Even the low vibration of his voice was like a healing balm to your train wreck of a time.

"Good," you promised, smiling sweetly. Billy gathered your hair behind your ear, snuggling you closer with his other arm.

"You're freezin', sweetheart," he murmured, and you shivered, almost as a response. At that he adjusted the blanket so it covered your back and got up, heavy footsteps thumping the air like a heartbeat. You watched him snatch another blanket from the edge of the sofa, hurrying back to you with the urgency only a lover could have.

Billy spread it out on the floor, sitting down and reaching for you. You obliged quickly, lying right beside him, closer to the fire. Before you laid down you tossed the further edge of your blanket over both of your feet. When you settled next to him it was paradise.

He pulled you right up against his side, lips finding their home in your hair. "'m sorry I couldn't go with you." Guilt swathed the corners of his apology, only cementing your decision not to bring up what had happened today. Learning about it would only heighten his feelings, get him worked up over something neither of you could control.

"It's okay," you promised, opening your eyes. His own were solemn, and you read something in them that couldn't be put into words. Still, you understood. He didn't think it was okay at all.

Sliding an arm under his shoulders, you gently tugged him to rest his head on your chest. Billy's fingers crawled across your stomach to grasp yours, closing them to his palm. He let out a breath, body relaxing.

Your opposite hand raked through his dark curls, lazily scatching his scalp. He let out a breath. "Baby."

"Mhm?"

"'m gettin' sleepy."

"Go to sleep," you whispered, dragging your hand up and down his head. He was holding the fingers of your other hand in the way a child would hold a bear- purely for comfort.

Billy's breathing grew soft, and you touched your lips to his forehead before closing your eyes, his weight easing you to sleep as well. As you drifted off, you began making a list of things to do later. Start dinner...put everything you'd bought away... Your dreams claimed you before you could think of anything else.

Maybe you'd expected sleep to be unsettling with everything that had happened today looming in the background. But it was peaceful, nothing but pink sunset skies dancing under your eyelids. As you woke, you hummed sleepily and wondered if Billy's presence had anything to do with it. Or maybe it was that it was still light outside.

Cracking your eyes open, you noticed his head wasn't on your chest anymore. But he was still holding your hand.

Your hand. Now your eyes were wide as you sat up, meeting him where he knelt at your side. He was combing over the skin of your palm, examining the reddened scrapes that jaggedly tore your skin.

Without looking up at you, he said, "You're hurt." It wasn't a question.

Pulling your skirt over your knees, you were about to respond when he batted your hand away, peeling back the fabric to reveal your bruising knees. Now he was looking up at you, concern striking his irises like lightning in a cornfield. "Where else?"

His voice was still gentle, but you could hear the no-nonsense of it. Giving up your ruse, you touched your side, by your hip. He pushed up the hem of your dress to see, and your thighs shyly closed, an automatic habit.

Billy bent down, examining the bruise beginning to form there. He touched it as carefully as he could, pads of his fingers landing like a butterfly on a flower. You couldn't help the wince- it was still sensitive.

He sat up at that, covering you up with your skirt again. You didn't look at him even though you knew he was. Instead you stared at the plaid fabric of the blanket, bunched up from your sleep-ridden twisting.

You knew he wanted you to meet his eyes. But you didn't dare, shame coating your being and making you wish you had something to hide under. Now he was worried and it was all your fault.

Cupping one of your cheeks, Billy murmured, "Sweetheart. Can you look at me? Hm?"

The way he said it was so tender that you did without even thinking. And when your eyes found his, two magnets drawn to each other, you instantly wanted to cry.

Maybe it was the fact that you had thought you could handle yourself. Maybe it was that somehow you hadn't stopped to realize how you felt about any of it until now. Or maybe it was his soulful eyes so keen to know what had caused you any semblance of pain. But the entire story poured from you like water from a creek, and he didn't tear his eyes from your face the entire time.

In telling, the dreadful truth hit you. You couldn't remember most of the interaction, and now he was asking questions you didn't feel like you could answer. Billy was grasping your elbows, brow knit tight. Was he following you? What did he say before he pushed you? Do you remember what he looked like?

But you didn't know if he'd traced your steps into the store. The man's words, when recalled, were nothing more than muddied sounds, his face blurry in your memory. Frustrated tears sprung to your eyes as you managed, "I don't know. I can't remember."

"Sweetheart-" Billy was pulling you in before you knew it, his lips finding your hair. "Baby...shh. You're safe now, I've gotcha."

Clinging to him, you strained your mind, combing it for something, anything to tell him. But each time you came up blank. You cursed your inability to know, upset that something that had happened to you wasn't coming up easy.

Billy's hand rested at your crown, thumb roving over your hair. He rubbed your back gently, letting you relax. You were starting to calm down when he asked in a whisper, "Did he say anything 'bout me?"

Outlaw's whore. You paused a second too long and he nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Okay. Okay." Taking in a shaky breath, you shook your head, looking up at him. His hand remained where it was.

"It's okay Billy, it was fine," you tried, but he exhaled through his nose, hand at your crown sliding so his thumb was touching your jaw, other fingers still in your hair.

"No." His jaw clenched, and something sank in your stomach. "Not fine. Not fine at all." He caressed your cheek, and the silence that followed nearly made you cry all over again.

He felt guilty enough over his soul, but worse still at how it stained those around him. You tried desperately to erase it, not to give him any reason to feel ashamed of who he was or what his past had forced him to do, but it was nearly impossible to keep things from him. You couldn't shield him from the looks of disdain thrown at you when you were on his arm.

And you'd learned you certainly couldn't hide something like this.

Billy would take it like he was the one who'd hurt you, even though he would never lift a harmful finger. More guilt was foisted on him than the person who'd done it.

You reached out, holding his face between your hands. "Billy no...I'm fine, everything's fine-" your voice hitched when you saw his glossy eyes. In a strained whisper, you tried to smooth it over. "I'm fine."

He reached up for one of your palms, clasping it in his and bringing it to his mouth. A lone tear escaped your eye, falling down your cheek like a shooting star. Using the hand still holding yours, he thumbed it away. "Don't cry over me, sweetheart." A tired smile lifted his lips. "Ain't worth it."

The fire was dying down, and you shivered, unsure if it was the cold or his words. Either way, Billy drew you close to him once more, acting as though what he'd said had disappeared.

It was twisting around your heart like a vine. He was worth everything to you.

He whispered into your hair, "I wish you could see yourself the way I do, sweetheart. You'd know this ain't fine at all."

You were quiet, curling into his chest as the air became thick with irony. Repeating his own words would fall on deaf ears.

[pillarofna]

got fired for putting in my 2 weeks, need $ help

hey guys, my name is dylan and until yesterday (1/7/24) i worked for my dad’s girlfriend as a house cleaner for airbnbs. she has been incredibly rude lately and the workload has been very hard on me physically and mentally (disabled, mentally ill, & i have asthma). it was also taking me 4 hours of driving some days, and i wasn’t being adequately compensated for that time.

so, i decided to put in my 2 weeks with her because she has been complaining about there being too much work so i wanted to be able to help her out with that (as well as pay my bills, which is the main issue) as long as i could. but instead she decided to fire me because she was upset..? and because i didn’t clean one house (that she told me i could clean the next day, which i did) which is incredibly unprofessional, but now i can’t pay my bills!

i’m going to be desperately looking for a job but i was anticipating having the next two weeks to have a transitional period, but unfortunately i can’t have that. this has fucked me over severely and i don’t know what i’m going to do until another job decides to hire me. my goal is at least $500 to get me through the next two weeks, but honestly any amount at all helps. if every follower of mine donated $1 i’d meet my goal twice over.

tl;dr i was fired for putting in my 2 weeks and i need financial assistance until i can secure my next job. thank you so much ❤️

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

Part 2 to this.

Thanks for the support guys, sending lots of love <3

It's been 2 years or so since you moved out of Gotham. Well. Not moved out moved out. You couldn't leave. Gotham was your home. And even with those painful memories of Jason demanding you to leave, he's still the same person who you shared those long-lasting kisses with, who texted you every 5 minutes while he was on patrol to make sure you were safe at home, who was able to give you the first, real experience of love and devotion for the first time in your life.

But now you feel numb. Every time you caught a glimpse of your reflection from puddles on the ground or the shine of a window, you saw that gut-wrenching, eerie grin of the Joker. The grin of your father who once killed your ex-boyfriend and your passionate love.

But you broke Jason's trust. Maybe if you told him sooner, he wouldn't have cast you out. Maybe he would've sat down for a second and realised you aren't the same person as your father.

Staying at the next town over beside Gotham wasn't a bad idea, however. You were able to reflect on yourself, realising that you had no power over your father, and there was physically nothing you could've done to save Robin. But you've repeated in your head over and over that you are not the Joker. You weren't the ones who committed those crimes. You weren't the ones who killed so many innocent people. The only guilt that would eat at you was that you were selfish and a coward to stand up to the Joker and at least attempt to save someone. Bht you didn't. And you hoped that if someone knew your name, who knew your story, that they'd understand. That they'd be scared, too.

You were able to buy a run down... apartment?..house? Whatever it was, it was, unfortunately, all you could've afforded at the moment. And worse, it reminded you too much of your room in the warehouse. Minus the dried blood. But it had a horrible stench of weed, which took you forever to get rid of.

Unlike the warehouse, however, you were at least able to make it a little more homey. You didn't have any furniture, but you did have a cleaner mattress plus bed sheets, knick knacks scattered across the floors, a fake plant, or two on the floor beside you bed. And lastly, though you really should move on, a framed picture of you and Jason. You put this directly beside your bed, where it would be the first thing you see in the morning.

You know that what Jason told you was cruel. You could never forget it. But you had the decency to understand him. He dated someone he trusted. And unfortunately that someone just happened to be the daughter of his murderer. Of course, he'd think you're working with the Joker. Especially if that camera footage showed that you showed no effort to help Robin.

So, what the hell have you been doing when you went away? Well, as said, you couldn't stay out of Gotham for very long. You always went in and out, just for the nostalgia. Just because you had bad memories in Gotham didn't mean you didn't have good ones either. You just assumed that since your leave, you've been fired from Bat Burgers, so you decided to avoid that vicinity for now.

The real reason, though, was the soup kitchen. You could never step foot inside ever again, in fear that Jason would still be volunteering there, and you wouldn't want him to have a breakdown. So you just anonymously dropped off bags of produce of whatever you could afford during the day and quickly departed without being seen. But you missed the kids. Yeah, Jason made you feel loved romantically, but those kids, they felt like family. And how you missed diane so much, too. She was like a mother to you.

It pained you that you couldn't go see the kids anymore, but as you heard them laugh and yell just from the other side of the entrance, you smiled. You always took quick glimpses of them, and some of them grew taller. Some of them formed freckles on their faces. But your smile would slightly falter when they mention how much they missed you. And by that time, you'd just drop off the bag and make your way back home.

You weren't proud of it, but when you found yourself completely broke, you decided, fuck it, and started nicking a things from grocery stores, just for you to survive. And in moments like them, you think to yourself... am I slowly becoming like...him? You shake your head, thinking that the Joker had committed the most heinous, unforgivable crimes, while vigilantes wouldn't really care for petty theft, and the cops wouldn't give two shits anyway, especially if it's only stores running on the poor side of Gotham being robbed.

God, how you hated the police system. They'd only help when the richies were being mugged. Even Batman neglected the poor. Sometimes, you'd smile when you'd see Jason helping the kids of Crime Alley. The memory warmed your heart. Too bad you couldn't make more memories similar to those ones.

You rushed your quick drop off of fruits and veggies to the soup kitchen. It wasn't much. You think an empolyee spotted you trying to conceal a small box of strawberries in your jacket.

You felt some familiarity when you turned to make a run for it when you ran into somethi- someone.

"oW- literally what the fuck-" You hiss, grabbing onto your scrunched up face, not noticing the person you walked into. "Watch where you're going, nit-" You looked up to glare at the person, but oh, how you could never forget those gorgeous green eyes. Those green eyes you fell too far in love with. The green eyes that would sparkle when its owner would rant about the new chapter he was reading in The Catcher in the Rye. The ones that used to look at you so lovingly. But now, it is replaced with burning resentment.

"You're the one not watching where they're going."

What a familiar setting. But instead of the joking tone of Jason correcting that you're the one not watching their step, he means it now. As if he was some stranger to you, annoyed that some rando foolishly walked into him and tried to blame him.

And suddenly, you're back at the Batcave. Suddenly, you're back on your knees, looking up at the hurt, screaming man who towered over you. Suddenly, you hear once more if I ever see you again, I'll end you.

You don't reply to his spiteful response. But you notice your breathing getting heavy. You try to make a run for it past him, but what he says next makes you stop.

"You're selfish for coming here," he grumbles, barely audible, but you hear it. You hear it so clearly. And it pisses you off. What the hell does that mean?

"I get you hurting me because I was Robin. Because I'm close to Batman. But coming here to hurt these kids?"

You turn to him, disbelief on your face. "Excuse me?" You spit.

"These kids did nothing wrong. So leave them alone. Leave Diane alone. Leave Gotham." He says, surprisingly pretty calm.

You already feel the tears brim your eyes. "Fuck you," you say quietly, choking out a sarcastic laugh as you turned to walk away. But before you can leave his line of sight, you turn to face him once more. "I didn't do shit, okay?! I made a mistake, but I didn't. Do. Shit,"you claimed as you walk away in a fast pace. And this makes Jason fume in anger. Yes, you did. You lied to him. He told you his secrets. You were about to give him up back to the Joker. You put his family that he worked so hard and long to make amends in jeopardy. Right?

Jason follows after you in anger, pulling you through a narrow alleyway. Luckily, the neighbourhood was quiet, and no one was around to see this private situation.

"Don't talk to me like you did nothing wrong," Jason hisses. And you yank yourself away from his grip.

"You never told me you were Arkham Knight. Why do I owe you who I was?!" You snarl at him.

"But I did!" He yells back. "At least I eventually told you because you were always nagging that I was out late! And you didn't even return the favour by telling me you're the daughter of someone I hate the most! You didn't commit any of the same crimes he did? Fine. But you're still an accessory. You stood there watching him torture me. And I bet you stood there with every other victim that he killed, feeling absolutely no remorse. That makes you just as disgusting as him."

By this time, tears were already rolling down your cheeks. Your cheeks burned red, and you could feel a headache forming.

"And the worst part," Jason continues quietly. "I still can't get you out of my head. A stupid itch at the back of my mind saying that I still love you," he says in shame.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. What the fuck? No. No, why the fuck would he say that. That's selfish of him.

"Fuck you!" You yell. "I'm sorry, Jason. I'm so fucking sorry, but I couldn't do anything! You saw it yourself! I was a kid, I couldn't do anything! I was scared! And I did NOT watch him torture you- I wasn't even aware you were there until he killed you! I didn't even remember it was you when I first met you!"

"BULLSHIT"

"IT'S NOT FUCKING BULLSHIT," you cried, panting, your adrenaline dying down. You rake your hair back, tangled between your fingers as your tears begin to dry up.

"I'm sorry, Jason," you sighed. "I really am, I- I'm sorry I couldn't save you. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you who I was but.. but not telling you was protecting you! The fewer people who knew who I was, the safer everyone would be, especially after you told me that you're Red Hood..." You took a breath. "I spent my whole childhood believing my dad when he told me that no one could love me. But then I met you. You taught me how to love and- and how to be loved! And I fucked this up, and I'm sorry. But I'm too tired to keep arguing. I finally accepted that I'm not the same person as my father and- and I'm not going to let you take that away from me because it's the only thing I have left.."

Jason stares down at you. You have no idea what's going through your head, and right now, you don't have the energy to find out what it is. So, you slightly shake your head in defeat and start to wall out of the cramped alley.

"Oh," you say before leaving. "And for your information, I already left gotham. Just stopping for a visit," you mutter before finally leaving Hason on his own.

He shouldn't believe you. How can he trust you?

You arrived back at your house. Your body went limp, laying on the mattress as a final tear soaked through your pillow.

You absolutely hate how you know that you still love Jason Todd. He was the first person to ever help you what love truly felt like but also showed you how fast such a strong bond can crumble in a few minutes.

As Jason is remained to be alone in the alley, he thinks to himself. It's crazy. You've been raised by the Joker. The Joker. How are you raised by such an abomination but still be the most angelic, beautiful person to cross the planet.

He walks out of the alley and goes towards the soup kitchen where he'd start his volunteer work. Before he walks in, he notices the small bag that you left behind. He picks it up and opens it to see fruits and vegetables inside. He shrugs, not trying to think so much about it and heads inside.

As soon as he steps in, he's greeted by the kids, and his gave brightens in delight. But he sees some of the expressions falter.

"Where's Y/n?" One of them asks. "You two are always together... we haven't seen her for a long, long, loooong time," they frown.

Jason was about to awkwardly answer when Diane came up to him. "Jason, my dear boy! How was your rest, honey?" She asks. Ever since he found out you were the Joker's daughter, he couldn't work, he couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep. He didn't have the energy of volunteering, so he rang up Diane saying that he wasn't in the best spirits, in which she completely understood, saying that you would be around to help anyway. He was about to answer to say that he wasn't so sure about that, but Diane hung up, telling him to get a good rest, and that she'll see him soon.

Jason nods and sends her a sweet smile. "Yeah, thanks. Had a lot in my hands at the time," he explains, but Diane shakes her head.

"Don't even worry, sweetie. It's been calm the past few days," she says, looking down at Jason's hands, and a sad look reaches her eyes. "Is that from Y/n? She always left a bag of food outside, thinking she's slick. Tsk, foolish girl," she jokes. "She hasn't been around in a while. You two are dating, no? What happened? Of course, it's not my place to know. But I'm here if you need to talk, sweetheart," she says, placing a comforting hand to his cheek before walking back to the kitchen.

A little girl tugs on Jason's jacket.

"Jay-jay?" She calls out as Jason bends down to her eye level. "Is, N/n okay?" She asks, worry in her face. Jason attempts to send her a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure she's fine," he responds. "She's a big girl, like you. I'll check up on her to make sure she's okay, if that'll make you feel better," he offers.

"You promise?" She asks, holding her tiny pinky out.

Jason sighs. "I promise," he says, intertwining his larger pinky around hers.

Unfortunately for Jason, he never breaks a pinky promise to the kids. And he would never lie to them. So, on Jason's next scheduled patrol, he'll ditch and find you to make sure you're safe. That's it. Nothing else. He doesn't need to speak to you. Just a quick glance to see if you're not doing anything stupid.

Wait.

God fucking damn it.

You told Jason you already left Gotham. How the hell was he supposed to find you??

Shit, right. Diane said you always leave bags of food outside their door. So you couldn't have lived far, right?

Okay, he'll do a quick sweep of the ourskirts of Gotham, then he'll check the edge of the next town over.

It's been a long, tiring night, to say the least. He started searching the outskirts of Gotham around 6 pm and started his search of the next town from 1am.

He was about to give up his search when he heard a man yelling. He looks down to see a figure running out of a 24 hour convenient store as a man in a uniform yells after you. Jason rolls his eyes, hopping down to the roof to stop you.

You run pretty far, but you look back to see if the store owner was chasing you. You smile to see that you weren't being followed, but as you face back forward, your head hits against an extremely hard, metalic surface.

"Fuck! No- why!" You yell, pressing a palm to to your forhead, where the impact was laid. And low and behild, you see the infamous Red Hood standing in front of you.

"You know I'm always not looking where I'm going! Can you at least have the decency not to be in my way!" You hiss, swerving past him. "Besides, I don't want to speak to you," you mutter, heading home, which wasn't that far.

"I'm not here to talk. Anna just wanted me to check if you're safe." He claims as you scoff.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" You sarcastically say, grabbing the keys for your door. Jason inspects your house.

"This is where you live?" He blurts out with clear concern.

"What of it," you mumble, stepping in. Neither of you really commented on the fact that Jason let's himself in, continuing to critique your humble abode.

"There's mould and cracks everywhere," Jason says, looking around.

"Great observation, sherlock. Guess what? I don't care. It's a roof over my head, and it's a 10 times upgrade compared to the warehouse. At least there isn't dried blood everywhere," you say.

"What? You didn't have a proper room?"

"Joker wasn't really a 'world's greatest dad mug' kind of guy." You say, laying on the mattress, keeping one leg bent upwards as the other lays flat. One arm is tucked under your head as the other is laid over your eyes.

Jason wanders around the run-down bulding, looking at your belongings scattered on the floor, which used to sit on the shelves and windowsill of his much more comfortable apartment.

But a shimmer catches the corner of his eyes. He sees a frame, the picture turned away from him, directly beside where your head lies.

He cautiously walks towards you, taking a peek of the picture. And he could already tell, by the smiling faces and puckered lips of the photo, that it was his favourite picture of the two of you. He had a copy of the photo stuck in his room somewhere in his apartment.

And the guilt slowly eats at him.

"I'm sorry," Jason quietly says.

"For what?" You mutter, obvious that you're exhausted.

"Everything I said." He replies, sitting on the floor beside you. "For telling you to leave Gotham, thinking you were anything like the Joker... saying I'd kill you if I saw you again.. I didn't mean it," he says, his voice getting raspier by the second. "It was horrible of me to say."

"It's whatever, Jay... Jason," you reply, shifting to turn away from him, your back facing him. "I'd probably think the same if I were you."

His heart sunk.

"I should've believed you," he says, his voice raising a little. All he needs is for you to say you forgive him for saying all that shit. Because of him, you think so lowly of yourself, and that you love in such a horrible state, where instead the two of you could be cosy, wrapped in softer blankets in his bed in what ysed to be your shared apartment. He doesn't think he can take it if you think so harshly of yourself.

"But you didn't. And... and that's okay. I mean.." You try to hide your sniffle by burying your face into your pillow, but you aren't as discreet as you think as Jason obviously catches you. "I don't think anyone in this world would trust the daughter of a psycho," you try to joke, sending a weak, pathetic laugh.

"But you proved to me so many times that you aren't him. And I completely ignored all those times and started labelling you for someone you're not! How are you not mad- how are you not yelling at me?" Jason says, almost in a desperate whine. He needs some sort of emotional reaction from you. But you look so... dead.

You sigh as you sit up, avoiding eye contact. "Because you were right, Jason. You had every right not to trust me. I broke your trust by not telling you- I couldn't even save you."

Jason shakes his head vigorously. "No- No, no, no. Sweetheart, no," he didn't mean for the nickname to slip out, but no one mentions it. He reaches for your hands, which fit so perfectly in his larger ones. He held your hands in his grasp, pulling them to his chest, making sure you're looking at him.

"I was wrong- It wasn't your responsibility to save me. You were a kid- we were both kids! There was nothing we could've done. We were both kids dragged into Batman and Joker's stupid game of theirs! This isn't either of our faults! And you didn't tell me you were Joker's daughter... and that's okay. I'm sorry it took so long for me to understand why you didn't tell me. The Joker is wrong, Y/n. You can be loved... You are loved. Because I love you so much that it hurts," he admits, brushing strands of your hair away from your face so that he can look into your eyes. And you can look back into his. His gorgeous green eyes that can finally see love again. "And I understand if you don't lo-"

"I love you so much, Jay," you sniffle, smiling at him. Jason's eyes soften as he smiles, his head leabing forward and his lips resting on your forhead. "I'm sorry," you say, and Jason just shushes you, but you continue. "And I forgive you for what you said to me," you quietly say, shifting to lean your head on his shoulder.

"I forgive you, too, my love," Jason replies, his hand reaching up to softly caress your cheek. "I'll stay the night. Okay? Then tomorrow, first thing, you pack your stuff and move back in with me, okay?"

You smile as you nod, your tears finally withering away as you lie down in your bed, watching Jason strip off his heavy armour, laying in with you in just his tactical pants and compression shirt on. He wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace, and suddenly, you feel safe again. You feel warm again.

You feel loved again.

I'm so sorry if this is ass 😭. I really wanted this finished, and it's like 2am. But i really hope you'd still enjoy!! 🙏🙏

Taglist 🏷: @tyrone200 @pank0w @lorosette @havlindzk @achromaticerebus @demonicparalysis @fairyeoll

sorry if you requested part 2 and was not tagged, maybe because of mention priv settings? nonetheless, i hope you like it!