#i always forget to add the wedding rings in these and then rush back to draw them in

[beaksloose-baby-au]

baby sitting

[georgiapeach30513]

A Sin For A Sin

Summary: you told Lloyd what would happen if he cheated on you.

Pairings: Jake Jensen X Reader, Jake Jensen X Reader X Lloyd Hansen

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  cheating, alcohol consumption, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, voyeurism, double penetration, degradation, praise kink, size kink, spitting, implied basement wife, creampie, somnophilia, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.4K

Lloyd Hansen Masterlist

A/N: For @iamesca who had the brilliant idea to pair Lloyd and Jake together 🫠😮‍💨😮‍💨

Your finger runs around the rim of your shot glass. The haggard sound of a lonely man terribly singing an annoying country song. Hiccuping and crying through the lyrics. The smokey atmosphere, and the whiskey running through your veins, making your heart feel a dull pain instead.

All you want it to forget. You don’t want that vision of him with her, and in your bed. With a tap on the bar, the cheerful bartender walks over to fill your cup again. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here listening to this shit?”

You barely give him a smile, throwing back the dark liquor, before slamming it back on the bar, “Another.”

His eyes on you as he pours the stout drink. Somehow stopping perfectly. Your eyes finally roam over his body. Making a trail up and down him. His arms corded with sinewed muscles. His shirt hanging a bit loose. One look at the boyish cargo shorts, and you ask him for another.

“You gonna tell me, why you’re here without your husband?” he gives a quick nod to your ring finger, and you shrug, taking the useless metal off to drop on the bar. “Another shot?”

“Yeah,” he reaches behind the bar to grab his own glass, pouring himself one as well.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks, taking of sip of the liquor and grimacing. Hissing through his teeth, while he shakes his head in disgust. You can’t help but to laugh at him, drinking your own slowly. Savoring the smooth smokey flavor, and relishing in the slight burn.

“You’ve had like five shots now. Your mouth is numb to this.”

“Did you see me act like that with my first one?” his face falls flat, placing his head on his hips. Sullen that you could take it and he couldn’t. “What would you prefer to drink?”

“Beer,” he scrunches his face up when a new man starts singing a heartbreak song. “Let me shut this down. It’s past closing time. Stay here,” he announces how it’s last call, and then the bar is closing. This baby blues still drifting over to you, making sure you’re not going anywhere.

Upon returning, he grabs up a beer, to drink. Those eyes on your wedding band on the dark wood. “I went home to find him in bed with another woman,” you inform him. Your phone vibrating in your pocket, and you don’t have to look to know it’s Lloyd.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t even know how he found another woman. He’s an asshole to everyone,” you watch as the bartender’s fists clench tight, and feel a rush of slick pool in your cunt. You had been getting worked up already, but the fierce need to protect you, really did you in.

“Except to me,” you slowly add in, and his stance relaxes. “At least that’s what I thought.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Three years. Together five. You know the bad thing? I didn’t say anything. Neither of them saw me, I just left,” your pocket vibrates again, and still you choose to ignore it.

“What’s you’re story, Mister…?”

“Ew, Jake will be fine. Mister, blech,” he mocks retching. Waiting on the patrons to leave, and he locks up the bar. “Retired from the army. I’m a dead man, literally, I’m not supposed to be alive. It was all fake. So I’m here. People are interesting.”

Biting his lip, his eyes roam over your figure. Watching every soft dip and curve of your body. Even your smell is more intoxicating to him than the booze. Love drunk, and he knows he shouldn’t feel this way.

“You know, I always told Lloyd if I ever caught him with another woman, I’d find myself another man to lay under,” Jake gulps, pushing his glasses up further on his nose, but still leans forward on the bar. “You know anyone?”

“I-I-I could possibly know someone,” with each word, your fingers undo a button on your dress, until he’s nearly drooling on the bar.

“Who did you have in mind, soldier?”

“Oh fuck,” his voice nervously responds when you let your dress drop to the ground. Undoing your bra, he bites his fist when your tits bounce free. “I can’t take you somewhere looking like that.”

Shimmying out of your panties, you hold them out for him to take, before climbing onto the bar. Leaning back so he can fully view your weeping cunt. “Who said anything about going somewhere? You want me to lean over the bar, or are you joining me up here?” you ask starting to finger yourself.

Jake speedily undresses himself, and you let out a whimper when that veiny cock bounces up. His spongy tip red with a pretty bead of precum at his slit. A thick vein running down the side. Pulsing and aching. Not as long as Lloyd’s cock, but with extra girth at his base, and you know you’re going to enjoy the painful stretch at your entrance.

Jumping up on the bar, and clambering over to you, he runs his hand through your glistening folds, “You’re soaked,” he laments. Humming at just how wet you are.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He gives a boyish grin and shrug, “Just wanted to make sure you could take me. It might be a tight fit if you weren’t prepped.”

“It’s going to be a tight fit anyways. Fuck me,” using your fingers, you spread your pussy lips, and show him your tight channel. Letting him see how your walls are needy and clench around nothing. Whining at him to just fuck you.

Gently Jake settles in between your thighs to line up to your quivering pussy. His breathing heavy and laborious. Wrapping your hands around his ass, you pull him down to you. A shaky moan escapes your lips, when his blunt tip pushes through.

Jake is too methodical, too slow for fucking. But your thankful for how slowly he sinks into you. Panting as his cock pushes through your quivering cunt, and just the way he watches you stretch around him. Studying the way your spongy pussy takes every bit of him. Sinking down to the root, and you whine with how perfectly full he makes you feel.

He drags his length out slowly, almost completely pulling out, before he shoves into you harshly. Loving how your body responds to him. Your greedy pussy needing him to destroy her. Throbbing and hungry for a beating.

Jake gives you a tender kiss, his eyes looking at you questioningly, “I can handle it. Please, fuck me dumb,” with your confirmation he ruts into you with a demanding force, but you and your cunt want more. Sucking him back in deeper each time, and becoming addicted to his pretty sounds.

Jake’s moans eager and determined for more each time. Your bodies scooting across the bar. And when he sees your tits jerk around with his force, he gets even harder. Feeling like his dick grows an inch, when his tip kisses your cervix.

A pleasured pain that you welcome even more. Forgetting about your husband, and just living in the moment with his boyish charm, but hard purposeful thrusts have you seeing stars. He looks towards the door and windows, and gives you a devilish smirk. “If anyone walks by, they’ll see you becoming a dumb fuckdoll every time I punch into you. Where do you feel me?”

A rub on your lower belly, he looks at the bulge, that bubbles up with every stab into you. “Fucking hell, you feel me in your belly, huh? You just needed to be fucked hard and deep. You want for someone to see us?”

“Uh huh,” you pant, tweaking your nipples. Your tits have a steady rhythm of ripples causing Jake to slam into you harder.

“What about if he sees you?” Jake smirks, beginning to jackhammer into you. “Want him to see you become a desperate little slut? Ready to fuck the first man who listened to her.”

“Fuck him,” Jake smiles so big, you see his dimples, making him look even younger than he already did.

“How about you fuck me?” the two of you giggle as he struggles to get the two of you twisted and turned around. Settling back down, you ride on top of him. His fingers dig into your hips, as he shoves you down to take every last inch of him.

Eyes closed, you scream pleasured prayers up to the gods, only barely slowing down. Playing with your nipples, gets your hands pushed off of you, while he lifts up to suck on the pebbled peak. Feeling amazing and light as air when you feel the second mouth, suck on your other tit.

Opening up your eyes, you see both Lloyd and Jake gazing up at you. “What the fuck?” you ask, stopping your movements.

Lloyd pulls his mouth off you with a pop, giving your nipple a few kitten licks before looking at you.

“How does she feel?”

“She may try to deny this, but her pussy has got me in a vice grip.”

“What the hell?” you try to move, but Jake holds you down on him.

“I wanna see what she looks like hugged up against you,” he lifts you up a bit for Lloyd to stare at where the two of you connect. “You’re such a fucking slut, you know that?”

“Y-you were in the bed with another woman,” you look at him confused, and he shrugs.

“Was I? Did you see her face? Jakey here has needed to get laid for quite some time. I owed him a favor. You’re the favor. Does it feel good, Sunshine?”

“Better than you,” reaching both his hands forward, he grips your nipples tightly. You whimper, trying to protest but Jake just laughs.

“There she goes again. You really are a slut.”

Lloyd starts ripping his clothes off before, climbing up behind you. Spitting a line of saliva down to your ass, and he gives your puckered hole a few rubs. Sinking two fingers past your rim, and you beg him to stop. “Oh you’re gonna take it. What feels good, usually hurts in the end, but with time, you’ll enjoy taking both our cocks, and our loads. You wanna be a slut, we’ll treat you like one. Have you leaking of both of us, and walking funny.”

“Our pretty little cumslut. Just gonna fuck you to sleep. And when you wake up,” Jake purrs up at you, letting Lloyd readjust himself when he pulls his fingers out of your virgin hole.

Your head turns back to look at him, saline trails drifting down your cheeks. But with a swipe of his tongue, Lloyd licks them up, before spitting back on your muscled tunnel.

Jake snaps his fingers trying to quit your whining, getting you to look back at him. When it doesn’t work, he slaps on your tit, causing you to yelp, turning to look at him. “When you wake up from being absolutely destroyed, we’ll fuck you back to sleep.”

“Hell,” Lloyd grunts, guiding his dick to your ass, pushing through harshly, and laughing when you sob, needing to rest your head on Jake’s chest. “We’re not going to wait until you wake up. When we want to fuck you, we will. And you,” his voice turns into a strained moan, when he shoves his cock all the way through your throbbing hole.

The three of you a sea of weak sighs, guttural moans, and desperate whimpers. Your body overcome with a pleasured pain of being stuffed so full. “Jake, calm your shit, I feel your cock twitching, you fucking dweeb.”

“I can’t help it. Her cunt is squeezing the life out of me. Relax,” he coos, smoothly running up your thighs. “Breath, and relax. You’re taking us so well. Got you stretched over two fat cocks, and you can’t think, can you?” you don’t answer, your lip just trembles, he gives your tit a sweet kiss, before a gentle nibble.

“Poor baby. Our little slutty baby is at a loss for words. You’re doing so good princess. Each time will get easier. Maybe next time we just spit roast you, huh?”

Lloyd finally pulls out, and begins fucking you. Letting Jake just fill your hole, while he destroys you in a way he’s always wanted. “Need something in her mouth,” Jake places his fingers into your mouth, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Overwhelmed with pleasure and fullness. “We’ll have to plan better next time,” he grunts out.

“Remember you told me your fantasy. Wanted me and a few others to use you, own your body, and do whatever we wanted? Surprise, Princess. I plan on it. Every fucking day, I plan on using you. Maybe even watch you get used. Fuuuck this feels so fucking good,” he leans his head back, shaking it from side to side. Barreling into you with such purpose.

“Opp!” Jake shouts, when your head droops forward. Literally fucked out when you loose consciousness. “There she goes,” removing his hand, your salvia drips down into his chest.

Lloyd holds your body up a bit more, so Jake can fuck up in you. The two of them pushing and pulling into your heat like their lives depended on it. Fucking into you with a mixture of malice and love. Taking what they came here for. Jake is the first to bust a nut. Spurting deep inside your belly, and even passed out you moan at the added warmth.

Lloyd jackhammers into you, racing for that shocking high. Gritting his teeth, until it becomes too much. Blowing his load, and he pulls out, just to watch the sloppy mess drip out of you, flowing all the way down to Jake. “Oh, I’m gonna love this.”

Jake twists your passed out body to lay on the bar, gathering up everyone’s cum, he shoves it into your mouth.

“Look at how needy she is,” his voice filling back up with a lustful desire to fuck you again, when your lips wrap around his fingers. Sucking off their spend.

“I told you she was a slut for my cock.”

“Looks like she likes mine, too. Here baby,” straddling your head, his softening cock rubs over your lips, and you still want more. With a gasp for air, he pushes past your lips, “Cockslut. You sure two is enough?”

“Let’s get her comfortably stretched out first.”

“She really thought you cheated on her.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be able to get her to agree to this without it,” Lloyd shrugs. “She’s still thinks she chose to be my wife,” he lets out a wicked laugh at Jake. “Pick her up. Let’s put her back in her gilded cage, that she calls a bedroom.”

Masterlist

Taglist:  @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida​  @thedarkplume​ @duuhrayliegh​ @rebekahdawkins​ @johndeaconshands​ @harrysthiccthighss​  @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @sstan-hoe @iamesca @bambamwolf87 @whimsyplaty92

[m4nd0l0r]

Memories From Apollo - Part 1.

Description: The god of the sun loves its own rays, from his ballads that strummed from his trusted lyre, it drops sunny speckles of good things, the warmth you feel from the sun, the glimmering light that reflects to the waters.. But sometimes they bear memories, they make you remember from one touch of its heat, and whatever you glimpse on can be good or bad, but you see them for a reason.

Ships: Din Djarin x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader, Jake Lockley x Reader (yes its a mamma mia au + crossover fic of the mandalorian and moon knight-)

Category: Fluff and a lot of reminiscing

Word count: 7.1k words

Author’s note: i’m sorry that i took so long with this— i procrastinated so hard and i realized all the plot points i wanted to add wouldn’t fit so pt. 2 will be a thing… if i defeat laziness that is!- also i made a playlist for this so uh i hope yall enjoy both fic and music!! i used “baba” and “ba” since its a gender neutral term for mama/papa :)) the spanish here were from translate websites, i apologize for possible inaccuracies along with how i interpreted DID in this fic :”D

His eyes fixated on his screen, the blue light blares through his tired pupils as he clicks “yes” on each decision question he gets himself across to. Spam clicking the mouse, his arrow taps and taps to his heart’s delight. 

Plane tickets have gone overpriced, he entertains the thought. The price for London to Greece skyrocketed, no wonder he only sees a few people go on vacations nowadays, he thinks again, as if he needed a distraction.

As if he already didn’t try to steer his attention from his screen from choosing to do this. To try to come back. But he’s a little late for second thoughts, the card already got approved, no turning back. 

As his payment pends, he opens his cabinet, and just sinks his hand right through its contents, raking through each and every item he just tossed inside. And through his search, he finally grabs onto an old leather journal. 

Pulling it up, it was obviously worn down, with it being softer but the etching of his name, Marc, that he jabbed down with a pen knife the same few years ago he got this very diary. 

Flicking through it, he had a small grimace. But it soon disappears as he grabs a pen and a pile of sticky notes. Writing, the ink bleeds through the paper, and it stains in the words:

Steven, Jake.

Give this to them. My last favour to you two.

-Marc. 

-x- 

The wonderful rays of the sun of Kalokairi rushed through your palms, and it felt great. Letting out a sigh, you wished every day was like this, but then you realized, you didn’t need to wish. It was always like this, and you loved every minute of it. Every minute of that good golden sun, the thrilling heat in your fingertips, and forever changing wind. 

The ripples of the sea were eminent in your ears, ringing back like the sounds of pendulums. SWOOSH! It roars along with jumping fish and seagulls that try to catch its food in a now cold morning. As you breathe in and out, a cloud coming out of your mouth, you sighed. You didn’t bother to wear a jacket, your hat was enough, you thought. Besides, the sun was hot enough to make you forget the fierce winds. 

You then touch your skin, goosebumps plumped from the contact. Your fingers then trail your face, you feel small wrinkles that form all over the years. You then touch the necklace wrapped on your neck, playing with the pendant. Trying to fight off the grimace that tried to creep up at your wistful smile.

Damn it you felt old. No, you are old. 

Because now you’re dealing with your daughter’s wedding. 

Well, what are you supposed to do with that information? 

It felt like whiplash. As if the waves of salt water came to throw you off your sandals. 

“Engaged!?— Luka- This isn’t some crood joke is it?” You gasped out, eliciting a laugh from your daughter. 

“No, Ba! Why would I even joke about such a thin— It’s real, look!” 

And then with how she went up to you -eyes coated with glitter, you’d think you’ve seen a disco ball- and flaunted thedarling lady ‘friend’ -Luka would joke, especially when you used to actually thing that she was just her study buddy..- that gave her a ring.

A ring! All embellished with gems and everything! Oh my gods you thought you were going to faint at your chair right then and there. 

You gasp.”I never thought this day would come by this quickly!” Your voice is almost nothing but a whisper. “My own little girl’s getting married..! I feel faint!” Your voice quivered, but Luka knew you were joking.

To some extent. 

Your own daughter getting married? Oh a thing you never even thought of. And as if the gods above sprung up to spite you, she’s getting married at 20. Not like it was much of a big deal- well it was- but gods. Shaking your head lightly, maybe you should have downed some sort of wine before you started thinking about all of this- Before you drown yourself in this pipehole— Yes, yes- That sounds like a good idea.

Unfortunately, you were nowhere at your hotel. No glass, no booze, but damn it-  you were impatient, you were almost excited even. 

Rushing by the docks, you were like a firecracker waiting to explode- But you were going to explode to your trusted comrades of all these years— And before you could even take another breath you heard those familiar voices. 

Your eyes swiftly drift to the end of the wooden platform, and a smile etched itself on your lips. 

“Well would you look at what the gulls passed on!” You yell, running through and stumbling your way. A shriek emanated from the edge, your partners in crime Evie and Anne- just came in just in time for the main event. 

“How dare those birds pass us on?” Evie tittered, her red hair blaring from the sun and her heels clicking through the planks. Anne just guffawed, running their dirty blond hair -noticeably chopped, but it fits, you remarked to yourself. “Betcha they passed us cos all of that hunk of plastic ya got!” She earned herself a -offended- choking sound from Evie with that one. 

The moment of -such quick- realization clicked in your head. “Evie- you got- it-“ You pointed at your chest, “DONE AGAIN?!” You shrieked oh so cheekily, Evie only gaped their mouth an O then transformed into a giant smile. “Paid by the FIFTH-“ She oh so emphasized, “Husband!”

“EVIE—!”

Anne seemed to be actually surprised by this, her voice breaking out in a stronger accent. “Ya cheeky bastard! Ya gotta be kiddin’ me!- No wonder ya don’t seem so damn broke, heels an’ all- an’ they look so—“

“Sooo?”

“FUCKIN’ REAL-“

“Alright enough tit tatter!“ You sighed. “Now I’ve got a wedding to plan and for you two to attend! We must go—!” You went on with a stern voice, though it was laced with such a noticeable joking voice. But the two only focused on one thing, making them only coo at you like a cat.

“Goodness me, Luka? Getting married? I still can’t believe it— She’s got one step ahead of you!” Anne hushed. “I bet she already planned everything before even telling you… Especially how excited she can get.” Evie added on with a laugh.

“That is true.” Anne only said. Rolling your eyes with an amused face, you grab your car keys in your pocket. “Yes yes, I expected that from her.. but marriage as that exact leverage?” You raised a brow almost dramatically. “Never in a million years.” 

“Luka is an eccentric kid, what’d ya expect?” You rammed your engine in. Your beat up car finally roaring itself back to life. Dang, you really should get it fixed. 

“Honestly-“ You huff. “Anything else.” Evie had her brow raised up from this. “Is the groom that much of a bad guy?”

“Bride. And no, she’s fine, she’s kind with my girl, they’re very lovely together and Luka’s really happy with her, and I’mhappy to see that.” You then pause, taking a deep breath, “It’s more of a..”

“Parent thing?” Oh Evie dropped the bomb right at you, and here you are, having you and Anne bracing for impact. You only breathed in and out once more, lighting it sink in. But she wasn’t wrong. 

“..Yes… Exactly that.” 

-x- 

“Luka you cannot be serious!” Someone hissed, “Dragging these unfortunate souls to our wedding?” The winds of the island blew stronger, as if it were angry along with the talker. “They aren’t strangers, love— They gushed about them!” Your own daughter- Luka- said. 

“Ever since I was a kid, Ba sometimes would mention them- whenever they thought I’m asleep,” She faked snores, earning a laugh from Ivy. God that made her stomach roll. “Right upstairs, I’d hear them, talking their way to the night sky by the balcony.. And gods they were yearning.” 

“And you thought the best thing to do was to invite them?”

“Uh yeah? I mean you did say that I can invite whoever I want, my love.”

“I meant people anyone would know- not strangers.” She raised a brow, her tone light.

“I mean- Ba would know ‘em.” Luka snorted. People were bustling around the hotel, and they were all fumbling about, with the decorations, and the dangling lights and banners, along with packages that Ivy ordered herself. She loves all the fuss, Luka thought, but honestly she liked it more when Ivy would fuss at her instead. 

“But still— Sure that’s the case- is this the right thing to do? Drag in those poor blokes all for our grand day, and you expect your poor parent once they learn this- to not explode?” Ivy only screeched with a light tone. “If you keep your mouth shut!” She almost wailed and her fiancée let out a squeak of laughter. 

Luka only cackled, “You better keep it shut Ivy- Or I might tickle my way to you for your silence—“ 

“You wouldn’t!”

“Maybe I would, so-“ She motioned her thumb and index right by her mouth, making a slicing motion, to say to shut it. “Besides, they obviously still fancy Ba, why would they accept those invitations if they didn’t?”

“To be polite?”

“Oh please! Polite after twenty-ish years of not seeing each other? You’re reaching, my dear!” Luka almost squawked with both of them whispering like school girls. “With their responses, You’d expect them to be right by the hotel’s entrance like a flock of geese.”

“Well I hope not,” Ivy eyed her. “Wouldn’t want to see them have a heart attack ‘cos of their own daughter!” 

“You’d get dragged to this too, they’re your future parent-in-law after all!”

“You—“ But before she could even continue, you were back from picking up her aunts, and you seemed distracted with the amount of laughter and huffing going about. The two opted to hide by the wall, typical, but maybe it’s enough to not get caught. 

Also long as you were very much out of sight. Good, you might not hear anything.

But your own daughter knew you very well, and you had a sense of a hawk. “Ivy- Love- Lets go upstairs before Ba catches us on and drags us with my aunts—“ And they both left with a lot of cursing and complaints of running on heels- mostly from Ivy though, Luka noticed.

“Hurry hurry- I’ll just give you a massage- Let’s just get out of here!” Ivy seemed agreeable this time, actually hurrying up. Her fiancée sighed, then again, she did bring this to herself, she can’t really complain about that, can she?

-x-

Taxi, ferryman, taxi, ferryman, were the only words that were ringing through this man’s head. 

This was one of those times that he wished that cars could actually go faster, through the busy streets, through the market filled with fresh fish and plucked out veggies. He wished he could plow faster across through the ferry dock.

He didn’t have time for this! He was here on some (un)reasonable whim, and now he’s rushing like god knows what. But the thing is, he knows why, and all due to a piece of paper. 

One day, he had some sort of letter in his mailbox. He never really got any, now that he thinks about it. It made him realize that it was very dusty too, that’s for sure. But as he ripped the tape off of the letter, and started to actually read it, he was more than surprised with the fact his jaw didn’t dislocate and fall to the wooden floor.

“A weddin’.. invitation?” His voice faltered, and when he read a little further, he actually let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t your wedding. It was your daughter’s. Shameless, the only word that went through his head. How could he be so relieved about that? It was stupid, and he wanted to punch himself for it.

But now, in Greece, he was on the verge of biting his fingernails -a habit he certainly picked up somewhere- He was clutching his bag with him. He certainly packed.. a little too light. Damn it he felt so spontaneous- he shouldn’t have indulged in doing so. 

But the minute he looks away from his book back in his loft, he’s suddenly seated on his office chair, computer open at 5am, and he sees his screen on a website with the purchase of a plane ticket from London to Greece. And when he felt his eyes widened from the sight, it really did.

Yes, he could have refunded, but maybe just maybe.. he thought he needed a vacation? I did not, I think. He tried to tell himself. Justification wasn’t exactly his specialty.

Damn it Marc, and damn you Jake for not stopping him. Knowing the damn guy, he would’ve encouraged Marc. 

He swears again on his head, bet they both planned this, and they’re just cackling right in their headspace’s seats like madmen. Maybe he was reaching, but the man needs to blame at least something- or someone. As if he could be right. Maybe, but how would he know? 

As Steven just tossed everything in his head, he fades away from the world, into the seclusion of his cramped mind, along with little old Marc and Madman Jake - little nicknames he gave them.

Murmurs of a voice came from the front, and that’s where everything clicked back in place for him. He was already in Greece, not in his flat. And he was definitely late for his boat.

Letting a few obnoxious swears he mostly picked up from his co-workers, he stumbled out of the taxi, saying the words, “cheers” and “mate” as he tosses enough money to the driver, earning him a smile and something in Greek that he couldn’t understand. 

He was running, his shoes clanking through the pavement. Damn it! Damn it! He was already yelling through the wind. “Bloody hell!” It was a pitiful sight really, a foreigner running his way to the ledge, trying to catch up to sailors removing the ropes that tied to the mainland, ready to anchor away to the sea. 

“Wait, wait!” He begged, but alas, the ship was already swimming away, with their passengers waving him goodbye pitifully, and it was as if they were silently laughing at him. But he couldn’t care about that- or even dare to think about it. Must be the meds. 

How the hell was he gonna get to Kalokairi now? 

“Bullocks!” He exasperated, huffing a few breaths with his luggage on hand. It was only now it really clicked, he was alone. Alone, in a foreign country. He's been alone before- Sure he has some money, but it’s a little.. unnerving, to say the least for him. 

“My sentiments exactly.” A voice makes him turn in surprise, not noticing someone being beside him- or to even talk to him. Turning to his side, he sees a man cladded in leather, he meant it. Leather jacket with an assortment of pretty pins he couldn’t really see without his glasses, and those leather boots, he couldn’t help but notice them, they looked so cool. He almost didn’t notice the rope wrapped on his hand, strange. 

Not wanting to be rude, he had his eyes center itself into looking at a sign. It was a bad choice on his part really, as he forgot that everything he was in Greek, and he’d have it easier if it were in hieroglyphics. “Uh.. you know how to read this..?” He asked the stranger, and his brown eyes looked at him.

“It says, next ship is on Tuesday.” 

“T-Tuesday?! No no no.. really?” And when the man in front of him didn’t make any remark, he took it as a yes. “Can’t believe..” He would slump down if there was a wall behind him. But no there wasn’t, he would have tripped and fell on his back. 

The wedding’s on Sunday. 

As Steven wallows in misery, with no second plan in sight, the stranger only stares at him. It was like a hyena waiting to pounce on prey; static with impatience. Hand on the rope, loosening his hold, he tossed it to the boat- which makes Steven realize that it actually wasn’t random- it had purpose. He felt stupid. 

But as he looked to where it was tossed, his eyes widened a little, it was a boat. Built to resemble metal, it was cladded grey with the most random sized screws bolted at each plate. With the basic things a ship would have present, the differences being that this had a figurehead of a majestic mudhorn, with its horn out and its realistic face with a scary scowl, it made him think that it could’ve belonged to a museum, or at least a gallery. 

He also noticed the words “Razor Crest” bolted to the side with a modern font. Small but readable enough to let everyone know the name of this boat. It‘s got quite a ring to it, Steven thought as he marvelled at the ship. It’s not everyday you’ll see a leather knight with his steel horse-boat. 

It was as if the stranger knew the look behind Steven’s eyes, because what he said next was.. sudden. 

“I’m not a taxi service.”

“I’m sorry?-“ 

“But I’ll have you hop in,” He suggested, “Just.. don’t make a mess.”

“I- uh—“ He didn’t have time to fully process but he replied in the best way he could. “Gotcha.. err-“ 

“Mando,” He guessed it was some sort of street name. Was he even using that right? Steven wondered. “Mando is fine.” He added in, gesturing for him to come in. His arm slung unto his baggage, he carefully -practically- leaped himself onto the unstable boat, making it even sway further by the water. 

“Sorry— Uh-huh, gotcha,” He repeated, “The name's- bugger-“ The ship rocked along with the waters, making him almost fall flat to his face. “-Steven then. With a V.” Mando only nodded at him before going further into the cockpit, leaving him alone near the platform by the back. Looking at the wall, he saw a familiar piece of paper, he was no peeper, but he felt an itch underneath his fingers, the want to see. That was always his weakness; curiosity.

Coming closer, he managed to finally get a peek. And it only took two letters for him to realize. 

“So uh… You’re here for the weddin’ too right?” 

Silence. Pure silence. As if he were dead. 

Now as he thinks that.. is he even actually alive? What if he was just some robot coded to say some basic sentences to some lost cargo boy (him to be exact) and he’s been an idiot trying to strike a conversation with him the whole time? 

Okay.. I’m gettin’ ahead of myself. He thought, no wonder his highschool teacher tried to drag him to drama club, he would have fitted in.. If it weren’t for him stuttering each line out of anxiousness. 

He looks back at the figure who looked ahead, not bothering to give him an indifferent look. A sigh emanated from his throat. 

This long boat ride was gonna stretch itself, wasn’t it?

-x-

The waters were extra rocky today, that’s for sure.

Mando- or more properly— Din, was sure that it was low tide. But here he was, the Razor Crest on the verge of tumbling down like a fallen jar from some mom’s cupboard, with a stranger nonetheless. 

That same stranger was by the railing, holdin on for dear life as he visibly tucked in the urge to puke his guts out to the sea.

He has no idea what came over him, why he decided spontaneously to let this poor sod in. Maybe because of pity? Most definitely, Din thought. 

The man- no Steven, had a charm to make others pity him, with that sad look on his face when he learnt that the next boat was on Monday rather than today- maybe he has problems with marking dates, Din will never know. Pity huh, at least that’s what the man in a leather jacket thought or felt, to be more specific. 

The last time he felt pity was when someone cried over losing a mock lottery ticket because it caused ten ginger candies from their own friend. And that was.. ages ago, twenty years from now. And that someone was you. He still remembers it, you wanted to scratch off the lead off of that ticket, where you could win from a stitched blanket, or some cute knick knacks from the mainland market. 

“I could have gotten one of those penguin plant pots!” You wailed out, “They were adorable!”

“The ones Izzie sells?”

“Those exact ones! With cute little props and costumes.. Gah! I coulda gotten one..”

“You could buy one from her store itself.”

“C’mon now, Din!” He liked how you say his name. Light-hearted, airy, as if it were cute. “Free stuff is something we shouldn’t pass up on! Especially if it's cute shiny porcelain!”

With that said, three days later, right at your doorstep, you wake up to a package- and inside it was those same penguin plant pots, and in your favorite color too. Attached was a note saying: Don’t worry, for you, these are free. -D.

Just from that signature, you knew it was him. 

For Din, it was genuinely a spontaneous buy, and no wonder you wanted to get one free, they were fucking expensive, then again they were pretty. So once he saw them perched up at Izzie’s shelves, he instinctively went to his wallet and boom! He bought at least two

One that reminded him of you, as if they pottered up a mini penguin who just resembles your most notable things about yourself. Even had a prop of your trusty tool for your little hobby. And the other was the one who was basically him, it even had a leather jacket, and he was sure he needed to get it. 

Definitely for no other reason. 

His mind suddenly snaps out from the trance, as his body relaxes from the now peaceful waters. It made him be chucked out from his little walkthrough through memory lane, punching down a stop button as he heard loud thuds! “You all right?” He raises his voice, hoping that the man could hear him from the end of the boat. 

“Yeah- pretty peachy yeah- wait no- actually- gimme a sec— Crap no- no- the diary— shit-“ More rummaging by the rear,  Din calms (not really). With seagulls screeching out and the winds roaring through his ears, they were the only sound that rushed through that tranquility, which stops as the quiet seeps through the cracks. “Hey? Steven?” He calls out, concerned with his tag-a-long. 

The silence just continues; it was just a storm being brewed right at the two of them— Confusion and fear bubbled through Din. Did Steven get thrown off the boat? He better not have- He can’t have a guest literally drown under his (not so) watchful eye. That would be bad taxi service. 

Ok maybe he really needs to stop referencing that joke, it was only relevant around two years ago, when Peli actually made it funny. To some extent. 

Getting out of seat, he swiftly walks by, searching for his companion. Looking back at the nooks and sides, nothing, he even looked up at the roof, and there were nothing but a few gulls perched up like it's their nests. He didn’t bother to shoo them away, they’ll fly out once the boat moves again. 

But he was really growing anxious, like palm-sweaty worries. Where the hell could this guy have gone? In this whole ship? Especially when most of the rooms are locked? 

Guard raising higher, not only was he tense, he was growing some sort of suspicion. He was growing distrustful. Genuinely he didn’t want to feel that way for this poor man, especially with his pitiful display earlier, but what if that was all a trick? He didn’t like the thought of that. 

Din finally catches a figure by the corner of his eye. It was Mister Stoaway, resting his forearms at the railing of the boat as his hands fidget on his sleeve.

Relief washed over Din. “That’s where you were.” Was all he said, approaching him. “You were too silent, made me think you got thrown overboard.” He added in to ease the quiet.

But something felt off, he noticed. Something felt very wrong. As if the air shifted from the cool breeze to burning hot. 

“¡Dónde coño estoy?” (Where the fuck am I?!)

Now this. This is where Din gets confused. Even more confused with his silence, because, wasn't this man British earlier?? 

“I don’t understa—“ 

“No te lo vuelvo a repetir, pendejo.” (I won’t repeat myself, dumbass.) He said, leaving no room for any excuse nor any sorries. “¿Dónde estoy yo? Y ¿Quién cojones son vosotros?” (Where am I? And who the fuck are you?) 

Shit, how was he going to deal with this? The man was literally on the verge of tears earlier about a damn water taxi schedule, and now he’s a raging man spitting out Spanish- a language he does not understand, mind you- what the fuck happened? And as he gets pestered continually with angry questions in a whole ‘nother language, he finally understood with his slight regret. 

Don’t take in strangers. 

-x-

Evie squawked at you, “Gods! With all that marriage talk, I’m still surprised you out of all people never got married.” 

“Oh we’re not delving on that topic, Eves.” 

You look at your side, seeing one of your employees struggling with carrying a few boxes. “Hold on a sec-“ You come closer and pick up one of them, trampling your way to the kitchen then back to the courtyard. Another came up to you, asking you things on the lines about “fixing” and “windows.”

Your two accomplices just looked at you at once. Somewhat. As you peeked, you knew what that meant, they were concerned, maybe they thought you were overworking. Which you are. For fifteen years. “Now where was I? Ah yeah, you already know the drill. Marriage is not- and will never be for me.”

Anne didn’t seem keen on putting such a topic just yet,deciding to just quip. “Aye, ya say that but you got yaself a kid, things can definitely change.”

“Anne… That’s different.” 

“C’mon, ya’ve been on this rock for more than a decade yet ya still haven’t found anyone?” Anne cried out. “That’s a little tragic now that Anne says it like that..” Evie mused, earning a wince from you. Wow alright, that does sound bad. 

But sometimes -well maybe most of the time- you like to be in denial. “It’s really not you two, really I have the hotel with me and Luka, and besides-“ A pause threatening to leave them on a cliffhanger. “I did try to.. once.”

“WHAT?!” 

Your lips pursed, “Hush! You’re being too loud!”

“Well this is new to us!” Evie screeched, “How did it go?”

“I tried the uh- Tinder app.” You rolled your eyes once more, “It went absolutely nowhere,” You seemed mortified for even trying to get on that colossal mess of a platform. “When I was looking at some people there, one of them had their wedding photos as their profile! Wedding!” 

They better just have used it on they looked ‘good’ -sure, lie to yourself he looked like a toerag, you thought-.. Maybe that was his ex-wife, or the guy just had such an ego thinking he can pull twice— you wouldn’t know, you wouldn’t dare to learn. No no, you told yourself, you’re better than this, curiosity will just bite you in the ass. You think.

“Besides- pssh- That’s already a giant red flag on its own!”

“More than a red flag than-“ Then Anne coughs, that’s when you caught on to her joke. 

“You didn’t.”

“I just did.”

“I mean-“ You started laughing louder, “You aren’t wrong— Even Marc wouldn’t stoop so low-“ You stop yourself. Shit. Ceasing, you bit the inside of your cheek, and suddenly you had the urge to just hit your head with your palm, you were supposed to keep a secret ‘til you were on your grave. 

“..Who do you mean… Marc?” It clicked on both of their heads at the same time, like a connected light switch.

 “Uhm-“

“Gods, ya are full of surprises right now!” Anne yelled out, and you were sure if it weren’t for her sunglasses, you would see her bulging eye sockets out of pure shock. “Marc, MARC? WHO THE HELL IS HE?”

“Zip it!—“

“What happened to our code?! Telling everything and anything?!” Evie clutched her heart, as if she were betrayed and left bleeding out by a sullen lover. “Ladies- ladies— not here—“ You tried to say but your words got chopped off like fish as they both screeched in unison. “WHERE ELSE?” They butted all in at your face. Letting out an awkward laugh, you go. “Not here-“ You look around, seemingly alarmed. “Come on! Upstairs—“ 

“What about the wedding plans? Introductions! To the two brides?!”

“Those lovebirds can wait- let them be lovey-dovey—“ Dragging yourself upstairs, up to the third floor, to your room. They were screaming, and gods you wished you knew how to keep your mouth shut, now you have questions to deal with, answers to tend to. 

Staircase after staircase, you drag these two with you, ignoring each gsp and yell they have from the creaking wooden planks. Maybe next time you’ll fix it, maybe next time you’ll replace the material. It’s always a “next time.” But you know you don’t have many of those in life. You had enough of running, maybe it's time to settle and let it out for once.

Finally right at your bedroom door, you bust it open, rushing yourself to your bedside table. Your hands feasting itself to your chase, you try to find your most hidden possession.

Your diary from twenty years ago. 

“Damn- I don’t remember putting this here, oh whatever—“ But before you could even say anything else, Evie took the diary from you, making you yelp. “Hey, give it back!”

“I know you, and you’d definitely omit some details here given the chance!” She replied, Anne only trudged right next to Evie, already wanting to know the details. “It’s only fair you give us the truth, the whole truth.” 

“Fine! Do what you will! Just—“ But before you could continue, Evie goes. “April 3- A Drive. A fucking drive. Wow, so interesting.”

“-Don’t read it out loud. Darn. Nevermind.” You only earn yourself giggles like teenagers. This was like all of those sleep-overs you had with them back then, when you all were still boy-crazy and Anne was actually still in the dating field.As the two were right at your bed, you followed, laying down chest first to your blankets. 

“Let her have her fun.” Anne cheekily whispers to you, making you roll your eyes jokingly. Evie coughs out almost obnoxiously, making you two snap your heads in her direction, and she continues. 

“Din suddenly asked me to go for a drive with him. A bloody motor ride. Honestly I thought he wanted to pick up something when he first asked me but it wasn’t? He said he felt- impulsive. And oh how I wish maybe sometimes he would be impulsive all the time. 

But it was a weird thing to ask- I mean- none of us had a car. How would that work? I asked him, but he only winked, something I've never seen him do, but I welcome it. Suddenly BAM! I went to the parking lot with him and there was a motorcycle. I yelled and laughed with him in surprise as he held me up on it. Sweet, it was.. endearing. 

Though his hand is well- occupied, seating my face by his shoulder works too. The comfort of him just letting me rest by him as he drove us all around the mainland until the docks, it felt.. nice. Just the view, and the two of us, shoulder by shoulder. Hand in hand. 

He’s a simple man, never was a romantic, but damn it, I loved his effort in trying. It made me think that he really likes me. and I hope he knows I like him too.”

“Ooooooo cheeky.”

“Shut it.” You were gonna have your eyeballs fall off if you keep on rolling your eyes. Evie only chuckles- or err, more of a squeak. 

“Fine fine, ahem— April 8- Wow. 

Marc. Fucking. Spector. Taking me on a picnic? Well that sounds unreal to me. Until now that is.

He took me to the south of the island, and up I see is the most romantic thing I think he’s ever done. All on that little blanket, he got me the foods I’d talk about that I’ve been wanting to try, and everytime I wouldn’t like something, he laughs and fakes disgust with me, even when it was obvious that he liked them. 

I wasn’t a fan of one of the seafood dishes, so I couldn't really recall the name, though I thought I was gonna gag from it. I saw him like the dish, I know, seriously? Marc Spector, liking something? Well I like to think I’m one of those things Yes he actually does. But how?  

I could tell if he liked them of course. It’s a little secret just for me to keep, but there would be a little dimple that would come up right by his cheek, and a little sparkle in his eye. It’s cute. But every time he’d smile over something.. he hides it with a smirk. 

He thinks he can fool me, but I can see through it. He was the type of guy to wear a tough exterior, even if he tries to hide it with fake sneers and eye rolls, I can and will always tell, maybe because I’m observant with him.” 

Evie only gives you a look before continuing again. You give one back as a warning.

“April 12- I forgot about the festival. 

Well until Jake suddenly invited me as he was delivering some stuff to my dad. Well technically he was helping out earlier, apparently dad said it was for summer money, but sincerely I think otherwise, maybe for me? or maybe that’s just me wanting to dream. 

The festival was a lovely event. The decorations that stashed itself to the booths, and the mainland’s plaza were so gorgeous, as if you were walking through the night sky, by the stars. But rather than that, we joined onto the festivities, the singing and dancing. And wow, I must say he’s a good singer. 

He was literally singing my favorite song, I’m even surprised he remembered, was it that special to him as it was to me?requesting the musicians to help him out. God I felt like I was some sort of school girl with a man crush because I was going red. Like, if you were to dye a pure white shirt red, it’d be just as bright. It was just- so unexpected, I would have never thought of him singing. But when he did, it was just- I have no words. It was good. Great. That’s all I can say. 

He also choired along the singers, dragging me along gently to the plaza’s middle, right with the dancing people. They all played songs for romantic dances, for family ensembles and we both were invited, our arms always locked in together not to get lost, he would say. But that tone of his, it makes me believe that it also means something else, but I might be overthinking it. 

When the third dance ended, we rushed away from the dance floor, gasping and racing each other as he rushed to the stalls while he had me chase after him. And as much as this man was fit, god damn it, he was fucking fast, he had me running as if I were in the Olympics. 

By the time I reached him, he had his hand clasped tightly, and once I fully looked, there was a necklace with a sun pendant in his hand. And as he wraps it around my neck with that handsome smirk he always wears, he tells me.

Eres el sol para mi luna.

I don’t know what it means, I’ve tried to ask but he only winks. From the way he said it, it sounded.. sweet, but how would I know? Whatever it meant, luna means moon and sol means sun.. I could assume from el and mi… the sun.. my moon. 

I don’t want to assume but.. is it a love confession? That.. deep? Would Jake do such a thing? Or am I just making a big deal? I hope it was, if it were, I would be over the moon.. literally.

“Sois las estrellas de mi luna..” Evie repeats, it was strange to hear that from someone else’s voice, it felt.. too weird. To the point that it felt traitorous, and for what reason? You couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Is the necklace the one you always wear nowadays?” And your nod was the only answer she received. 

“Alright then… April 17- Why am I so surprised of Steven asking me on a date? 

I guess because I’d be the one asking him usually, well.. I didn’t mind, so it was fine. But damn, I could get used to this.

He pointed at the moon, and he would tell me stories. Crafting it with artistic words and with a bright story-telling grin on his face. He was always animated, talking as his hands made its way through the air, marvelling as he narrates his favorite story. (it was the Myth of Khonshu, known Pathfinder he would add) He would marvel at how the god paved ways for travellers in the night in the desert, shining the moon brightly for light, and making paths for them to walk in sand. 

Even if I couldn’t see it, my imaginations soared from him. Usually I sometimes hate it when people chatter too much, it makes me think that they’re all wasting my time. 

And honestly this wasn’t the type of date I expected, but its him, it’s something he would do. It’s a Steven thing and that’s why its so special. 

And that’s also why even though it was just another retelling of this story, I couldn’t help but listen with heart eyes. It felt easy to listen, and for once, I actually wanted him to talk for hours. and only him specifically. And how can I not listen to him? I do get to see that adorable twinkle in his eye. He’s a nerd after all. A cute one too.”

And that was the last diary entry, only those experiences you obviously cherished, especially when you kept this journal right by you. Evie then closed the diary, and looks at you again. 

“.. What happened to all of them?” 

“I..” You kept it far behind your mind for so long, you didn’t know where to start. Bug now the lock is finally now being picked, with rust collecting, its snapping open slowly. “I.. It’s a little difficult, it just .. happened.”

Difficulty makes everything hard just to finally shut this chapter off of your life. To end this wonder you have in your mind, to finally end the questions in your mind, on why? 

Evie stood up, opening the double doors to your balcony. You trample your way right outside, holding on to the railing, the other only looked at you, and you hoped it wasn’t pity. You didn’t need that. All you need maybe, was closure. Maybe to see them.

No. Absolutely not. You are not going to turn back to the pages of your life, you need to skim forward. Because that’s the right thing to do right?

But as you look down, you see them. Right outside your hotel. At the fucking lobby. 

“What. The. Fuck.” 

Well maybe you need to revise a page or two. 

There they were, Din, with his leather jacket and.. no. Was that..? No no, he acted differently, you knew how he acted. This, this was Jake. Oh god. Memories flood back in like a supposed secure dam just cracked. 

“What— What’s going on?-“ One of them says, but it just blurs out, not bothering to respond to them. You were already running down the stairs, not bothering to hear your friends out. Like a madman, you felt adrenaline rush through you. 

Your heart pumped with excitement, you found a new mission. Don’t let this go. You can’t miss this- no, absolutely not. 

One two three, one two three, you count in your head with each heavy breath, and finally on the last flight of stairs, you skip a few steps and just quicken the pace. Hopping off from the last tread, you didn’t realize that they were already by the front door, and that you almost headbutted straight through them. 

But still- thank fuck. You didn’t miss it. One of their hands clutching both your arms, balancing you from your rushing. Looking up, you didn’t miss how Din looked at you with a change from his rigid posture, the awkwardness fading so quickly. How you would have missed Jake’s shine in his eyes if you weren’t as observant as you were, as it was something that doesn’t appear as easy as you would think. 

“You still make a grand entrance, mi sol.” (my sun)

You would usually make a comment, just to tip Jake off a little from his balance. But you didn’t, instead you really threw him off by just grabbing his shoulder and pulling him- along with a surprised Din who yelped- to a giant hug. 

You breathe in, into the warmths of them. It was as if you were afraid to let go, that they’d disappear from your sight, and that you would never feel their skin right by yours ever again if you wrench your hands away. 

“You alright?” Din asks you, you only weakly chuckle. 

“I just- missed you guys so much.” You inhale again, “Mi querida/o (My darling), I’m here now. We’re here now.” 

The rays of the sun shine through you, and the past continues to enter your mind, like a stream. You didn’t bother to ask why they were here, it could have been a trick of fate, but you could care less, the only thing that mattered was that they’re here. With you. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” 

And it was April, summer.. all over again. 

____________________________________________

Tag list: @darkened-writer @spacetime8032 @moonmaiden1996 @simonsbluee @shangchiswife @formyfandoms @howdidigotinhere @stagerightlauren @sleuth-sparkle @rvmanoffbarnes @dearlawdimasimp

[jimlingss]

(sorry my tumblr app glitched so im not sure if this was sent twice) taking a chance for the requests! how about a seokjin or namjoon arranged marriage au with this: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 🎄 happy holidays!!

↳ Playground Promises

1.9k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin

The bell rings.

Moments later, children are sprinting from the doors and flooding the playground. You watch in fondness as some climb the monkey bars while others sit and dig into the sandbox. All of them were forging their first friendships they’ll remember forever and you were their witness.

This is one of your favourite times of day. You enjoy seeing the kids have their fun, listening to their laughter and giggles, watching their games of tag to play pretend. But today, your enjoyment is interrupted by a certain male teacher that comes to stand behind you.

Tall. Dark. And handsome. His broad shoulders carry the weight of the third-grade class and practically the entire elementary school. But you’d never admit that out loud.

“It’s a bit chilly out today. You should’ve brought your coat with you.”

You hum.

Every staff member, married and single, swoons over Kim Seokjin. It’s hard not to. But if others knew what your relationship was with him, you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it. The kids would make a big fuss and so would all the staff and faculty, and you’d rather avoid that.

“I didn’t know you were on playground duty today.”

“I switched with Sana,” he says and leans over to smile. “Thought you could use some company.”

You scoff. “She’s perfectly fine company.”

The corner of his plump lip pulls. “If you want to talk about the mathletes program. And I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

Before you can respond, a boy approaches the two of you with pink cheeks and wind-swept hair. “Mr. Kim, can I go to the bathroom?” the third-grader asks in the midst of catching his breath and the older man nods.

“Go ahead. But don’t run in the hallway, Lucas.” 

Said boy grins and dashes off.

Seokjin turns to you and lowers his voice. “My mom’s been asking about the kids.”

Your brows furrow. “Why? They’re a good bunch.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean your class’ kids, I mean our kids.”

You blink owlishly. “There are no our kids.”

“That’s the problem.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Wasn’t getting married enough for them?”

Seokjin shrugs with a faint, mischievous smile. “They want to go out for brunch with your parents this Sunday. Are you free?”

“When am I not free?” you retort lightly, but slip your phone out of your pocket to check your calendar anyhow. Seokjin glances over to your screen and once you finish, you slip it back into your pocket. “I have some marking to do, but I’ll probably finish by then.”

“Okay.” The pair of you turn back to continue monitoring the children playing and you’re glad to revel in the silence that’s been created between you. But after a beat, Kim Seokjin pipes up again. You don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s quite the talkative guy. “Hey, Y/N.”

You look over and he meets your eye.

He asks, “Am I your lock screen?”

Your face heats. If you were once cold, now you were warm from head to toe. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. It was just a picture from the other day and you wanted to change things up on your phone. You had nothing else to use. It was convenient. That’s it.

Your entire relationship with him is built on convenience. At least...on his side it is.

Still, Seokjin grins and fortunately, he doesn’t tease.

You rush to change the subject. “A-Anyway, yeah, Sunday works for me. But we should probably talk about this after work.”

“Why? No one’s around.” His smile is spread from ear to ear and he leans in, whispering, “Are you that scared of people finding out we’re married?”

Immediately, you whip your head in all directions. Luckily, there’s no kid or nosy faculty member. You turn back to him, glaring. “I already said, I like to keep my private life under wraps.”

“I remember. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were embarrassed of me.”

You scoff and a murmur unintentionally spills out of you, “That’s impossible.”

You don’t notice Seokjin’s smile.

It’s been three months since you got married. It was a summer wedding. More importantly, it was an arranged marriage. And not because you were both wealthy and needed to be wedded to get the inheritance under some arbitrary contract rule or because it was your grandmother’s dying wish. No. You live a much more mundane, normal life than the dramas, movies and books.

It was your mom who threw a fuss. She was scared you’d be alone and unmarried, an old maid like your aunt — you didn’t say it, she just heavily implied it. But following her practically senile meltdown, you agreed. Partly to appease her worries and partly just out of curiosity.

You always wanted to get married. And deep down, you always wanted your own kids. But at the rate you were going, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to meet someone on your own.

What you didn’t expect on that blind date was for the other person to be Kim Seokjin, third grade teacher. Down the hall from you at the school. Someone across the room every lunchtime. Your dads were apparently long time colleagues, but Jin was still as equally shocked as you were during that first meeting. Yet, he easily agreed to getting married when you brought it up. Even when it was only after two months of occasionally seeing one another outside of your workplaces.

You still don’t know why he said yes.

“Ms. L/N!”

You’re torn out of your trance by a little girl at your knees. 

She pouts. “Jennie won’t let me play on the slide!”

“Did you ask her to share?”

“Yes!”

Before any more can be said, she drags you over and Seokjin trails after you. There’s another girl with brown braided hair climbing on the slide, and she swivels her head over as the two of you approach, eyes the size of saucers. 

“Are you taking turns, Jennie?” you ask her, and she vigorously nods.

“I am!”

“Well, you’ve been on it for a while. How about Lisa takes a turn next.”

“Okay,” she draws out and gets off of the slide before turning to her friend. “Here you go.”

It’s always little problems you have to solve — from sharing to knee scrapes and monkey bar accidents. Sometimes it’s difficult for the children to compromise, difficult for them to apologize and difficult for you to find a good solution. But you undoubtedly wish your own issues were this simple.

While you’re stuck in your thoughts, you miss Jin watching you fondly. 

“You’re good with kids,” he says as you move out of the way of running children and walk back to the perimeter.

“I wouldn’t be doing this job if I wasn’t. But I deal with older kids much better.” There’s a reason you teach fifth graders and not any lower than that. Seokjin knows it too.

“Remember when we had to supervise that kindergarten class together?”

You shudder. “It was a nightmare.”

“You weren’t that bad,” he tries to say but then laughs. You feign a glare, and he adds on, “Okay. I’m sorry, but I still mean it. It’s not as terrible as you thought. You’d make a good mom.” 

At that, your glare vanishes in favour of furrowing brows. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t help it when curiosity pries — so you break your own rule against discussing private matters at work. 

“Do you want my kids?”

Seokjin is wide-eyed and he turns to you. “Why not? We’re married.”

“Yeah….but…”

“But? Do you not want kids?” 

“No! I definitely want them,” you declare, almost a bit too boldly. He nods and you explain, “It’s just...I don’t know if you’re serious.”

Seokjin blinks. “I’m being perfectly serious.”

“I mean I don’t know if we’re serious.” You add, “Enough to have kids.”

“What’s more serious than being married?” Jin has a genuinely inquisitive and amused expression, head quirked to the side. 

You inhale a sharp breath and his gaze coaxes you to go on, so you do. “It’s just that you agreed so quickly to be married to me. It doesn’t��.feel real. I don’t know if you wanted to marry me, if you did it on a whim, if this is some kind of joke—”

He frowns. “This isn’t a joke, Y/N. I wanted to marry you.”

Your mouth hangs open. Your eyes are rounded.

“Wh—”

“Mrs. L/N!” You’re interrupted by your fifth-grader, Park Jimin. He sprints to you, huffing and puffing, before leaning his hands onto his knees to catch his breath. “Have you seen Taehyung?! We’re playing tag!”

“No, I haven’t.”

Jin suddenly points to the left. “He went that way.”

Jimin books it.

Silence fills the spaces between you and Seokjin again, but it isn’t like normal. It’s filled with unanswered questions and the suspenseful cliffhanger of an unfinished conversation. The laughter of kids on the playground and field resound around you, but for the first time, you don’t listen to it. 

It fades into the background as you turn to Seokjin, wanting to know more. “What did you just say?”

The man smiles softly. “You have to know.”

“I don’t,” you assert. “So tell me.”

“I’ve always liked you.”

You blink and he continues, “Since you substituted for the art teacher and I saw you squirt red paint all over yourself. It’s something I couldn’t forget. Plus, the way you draw those stick people.” Seokjin laughs heartily and you’re trapped in your spot, unsure of how to react or what to say. He reads your expression and softens. “Did you really think I would rush into a marriage if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“I…” Your mouth is agape. “I don’t know. Why did we never talk about this?”

Seokjin shrugs. “You never asked and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I knew you married me for convenience.”

“That’s not true,” you retort within a beat. This whole time, you thought he married you for convenience sake. But it wasn’t entirely like that for you.

Seokjin’s eyes are big and you swallow down your embarrassment. “Isn’t it obvious every single breathing person loves you? It’s hard not to.”

Slowly but surely, a grin spreads into Seokjin’s puffy cheeks and he’s smiling from ear to ear again. “Well, you’re very good at hiding it then.”

Suddenly, the bell rings.

All the children reluctantly climb off the equipment, some dusting their hands while others grabbing their friends, and they rush into their lineups. There’s a few stranglers lugging their legs while groaning. But busy in their small playground worlds, no one turns around to notice you leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Seokjin’s mouth. It’s shy and brief, like the first peck exchanged between two for the first time. And you pull away just as fast, lips left tingling.

“We can continue this later, Mr. Kim.”

You stride off while Seokjin’s left smiling. After a breathless moment, he chases after you like children who have just made promises of their first love on the playground.

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [CHAPTER 4]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, fingering, littlest bit of dirty talk, praise!kink, soft soft soft FLUFF hours, a bit of a filler chapter before the last chapter!! 😭 I can’t believe it’s almost ‘over’... This chapter has the least amount of smut yall will ever see with fratboy!wonwoo so don’t get used to it ☠️ LMAO 🤣🤣 also... it’s been a garbage week(boring work drama) for me so I’ll answer inbox msgs and stuff on sunday, I need to get away from the internet(and people) for a day dkfjhskh 😭💕 Ya’ll thank you for so much love and support with Caffeine and Until I Met You! It means so much to me and I appreciate every like, reblog and comment I get on it 🥺💕 No I will never be ending my fratboy!wonwoo au so don’t worry about that hehe 💕 For now, enjoy this soft ch 4 and I will see yall on Sunday! I love you, have a great weekend! 💕

[mood for this chapter: more than enough - alina baraz]

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x

“So…”

Wonwoo sighs - re-shelving another Edgar Allen Poe book. “So, what?”

Mingyu tilts his sunglasses down, eyebrows raised at the older male that continues to do his job instead of give him the time of day. “What’s going on with you, hyung? You’ve been… weird.”

“Okay, define weird.”

The younger male pouts as he takes his sunglasses off, pocketing them as he leans up against the bookshelf that Wonwoo is currently still shelving.

It only takes one utterance of your name for Wonwoo to stop in his tracks - fingertips on the spine of another book as he turns to Mingyu. “What about her? Did she say something to you?”

“No, but do you like her? I mean, ‘like’ like her.”

“Is it not… obvious? That I do? Did we not all collectively have that conversation about me giving her a set of keys to our house?”

Mingyu grimaces slightly as he mentally goes through all the times he’d even seen the two of you together and he’s only able to conjure up a few select memories - none of which were anything necessarily romantic. “Well… I wouldn’t say ‘obvious’, I guess. The two of you aren’t exactly the ‘kiss and hold hands in public’ kind of... people. More like the, ‘sneak off to fuck in a public restroom’ kind... Which, uh, isn’t really... romantic.”

This time, Wonwoo crosses his arms and leans up against the opposite bookshelf as he sighs.

It’d been a few days since he’d seen you and you’d been swamped in so much class work that you didn’t even have the time to come by the library or the frat house. And even while Wonwoo stood in between the bookshelves having a conversation with Mingyu, you were finishing an art project with Minghao that was due by the end of the day.

“I know. I told her it’d be kind of a slow crawl for me.” He plucks another book from the cart, staring at the glossy text as he simmers in his thoughts. “Mingyu, am I awkward?”

“Erm, well, I wouldn’t say that necessarily.”

Mingyu steps forward, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder as he smiles.

“You like her and you’re trying even if you’re not used to it. You gotta start somewhere, hyung. Even if you’re a fish out of water. But that’s okay, you can ask me for help if you want!”

“When are you gonna put a ring on Wonwoo-hyung?”

You snort at Minghao’s question - reaching for a clean paintbrush as he stands across from you in the large, empty studio. “First of all, can you not say it like that? I’m not gonna marry him, okay.”

The male rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you; his own hands and clothes covered in a colorful array of paints. “So you’re saying you never imagined hyung in a suit, hair slicked back and his buff arms carrying you off into your honeymoon?”

“W--wh--n--no! No, I haven’t!” You avoid his piercing stare as you focus on your end of the large canvas instead.

No, but I dreamt about it once.

“‘Hao, would you hurry! We’re supposed to be collaborating on this and it looks… like it’s 5 different art styles.”

“Don’t change the subject on me. And anyway, I like what you’re doing to hyung. Breaking him out of his shell, y’know? He’s just shy, that’s all. Needs a little work in the bold department.”

You bite down the urge to laugh because to you, Wonwoo was everything but shy when it came to the bedroom. Although, Minghao was right with everything else. “Yeah, I know. We went for breakfast together after I, um, stayed over a few nights ago and he kinda just sat there zoned out, picking at his waffles. He’s really cute when he wakes up in the morning though. Pouty and whiny.”

Grinning at Minghao, he pretends to gag in response before taking a seat next to you.

“Disgusting. Tell me more.”

Wonwoo makes an effort to check in with you throughout the day before he heads back to his room - asking you if you’d had your meals and if you’d finished your project on time.

You’d answered sporadically as you and Minghao raced to finish.

‘I’ll eat late probably… rly gotta finish or else my ass is failing lol’

‘Just don’t forget, okay? It’s not good for you to skip.’

Wonwoo lays down in his bed; yawning as he sets his phone onto the nightstand next to himself.

His eyelids feel heavy and he’s quick to give in to the tiredness that takes over him once he gets comfortable.

When Wonwoo finally decides to shift during his nap, he finds it difficult and extra warm.

“Mmh…”

His bleary eyes adjust to the, now,  slightly darkened room as he makes out your figure tucked underneath his arm. He calls your name softly - waking you up from the nap that you’d apparently joined him in.

“Mmh… Wonwoo…” You snuggle in deeper, voice still laced with sleep. “You didn’t even budge when I came in…”

He chuckles softly as he readjusts to spoon you from behind instead; his strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep your body flush against his own.

“I’m surprised you came by, sweetheart. I would’ve just stayed awake had I known you were coming over.” His voice is groggy and laced with sleep as you sigh softly in return as you blink away the sleepiness.

“How was your day at the library? Miss me yet?” Wonwoo smiles into your shoulder before he tilts his head up to kiss the shell of your ear.

“Always, sweetheart. Although, Mingyu decided to keep me busy today.”

“Oh? Anything fun?”

He plays with the hem of your shirt, “Well… Fun isn’t the word I’d use to describe what that was. Nosy was more like it.”

This time you can’t help but snort in response. “You too? I think some people were being ‘lil moles today.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. Did you end up just coming back here with Minghao from the studio?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, to be honest but… S’been a rough day.” Placing your hand over his arm, you squeeze slightly as you pull his arm around you tighter. “Our professor came by while we were working in the studio and said our project wasn’t up to par with what Minghao and I usually submit for projects. She didn’t fail us on the spot but she said we need to redo it for less credit or take the failing grade.”

Wonwoo nuzzles your neck; peppering small kisses on your clothed shoulder. “I take it the two of you are going to redo it?”

“Mm… We spent so long coming up with a concept and now we’re both stressed about coming up with something new. I walked over here with ‘Hao and he locked himself up in his room as soon as we got here. Figured I’d come hang out with you and found you napping… With your glasses on, no less.”

The two of you share a laugh; Wonwoo’s embrace making you feel more at ease.

“Can I help you de-stress a little, sweetheart?”

You stare at the opposite wall, nodding gently as Wonwoo’s hand leaves the hem of your shirt in favour of the waistband of your shorts.

“Just want you to feel good,” he whispers. “You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard, baby.”

He teases you softly; fingertips ghosting across your skin as you shiver. “Ah, Wonwoo…”

“You worked extra hard today too, didn’t you? I’m so proud of you for what you accomplished today.”

Your body heats up at his praise and you can’t deny that his deep, soft voice sends thrums of arousal pouring over your body just as he dips his hand into your lounge shorts. He touches you over your panties - fingertips ghosting against your mound as you moan his name shakily in return.

“I know your new idea is going to be great, baby. I believe in you.”

Soft whines threaten to spill as Wonwoo strokes you over your panties - slowly working you up as you find yourself trying to grind against his hand. “Y-yeah… ‘m p-pretty sure ‘Hao’s already working on it…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as Wonwoo continues to stroke you gently; making no efforts to rush or add pressure to his feather-light touches.

A disappointed noise falls from your lips when he starts to pull his hand out of your shorts but it quickly turns into a content sigh when he starts teasing your chest instead.

“Mm, so soft…” Muttering against your shoulder, his eyes stare off into the dark room as he massages your body. “And all mine~”

You hum in response, “We should go on a date sometime…”

“You want to? We can go this weekend. After you’ve redone some of your project. I’ll take you somewhere nice for a job well done.”

You giggle softly; images of a wedding day’s Wonwoo dancing in your mind after the conversation you’d had with Minghao earlier. “I’d like that. We should do something for the whole day.”

“Whatever you’d like, baby.”

Wonwoo’s hand flits down your body again - snaking into your shorts and, this time, into your panties as you whine. “Do you wanna cum or go back to sleep, hmm?” 

You ponder it for a second as the drowsiness equates the urge to cum on his fingers. 

“Both? I wanna cum and then sleep a little more... If that’s okay?” 

Wonwoo hums in agreement as his fingertips drag through your folds - collecting the wetness on them before he teases your soaked hole. “Only a little teasing gets you this wet, hmm? So cute.” 

“Ah, f-feels good when you go slow t-too...” 

He stores that away in his head for later; chuckling against your shoulder as he slowly starts to dip his middle finger into your cunt. 

You feel warm and content when he starts a slow pace - thumb on your clit rubbing soft, slow circles while he pumps his finger into you. 

“O-oh, Wonwoo...” 

“You’re always good for me, baby. Always such a good girl.” 

“Ah, Wonwoo...”

“You can cum whenever you want. You deserve it.” 

He adds his index finger - thrusting both fingers into you as you mewl and arch away from his warm chest. Your toes curl and your thighs clamp and trap his hand between your legs as you start to grind down onto his nimble fingers.

“...W--Wonwoo...” 

“That’s right, baby. Call my name, let me hear your pretty voice when your cumming for me.” 

You turn your head - cries muffled into his pillow because despite his slower than usual pace, you find yourself already on the brink of cumming with his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and his thumb on your clit. 

“Mmh... Ah... Feels s-so warm... and g-good...” You mutter, eyes blinking drowsily. “Gonna c-cum...” 

He doesn’t say anything in return as he focuses on you and your pleasure; fingers scissoring and curling right into your g-spot as you clamp down onto them in a vice grip. 

Wonwoo knows when you’re about to cum when he feels your hand coming down on his forearm, holding onto him for dear life when your orgasm still hits you just as hard. 

“Ngh, Wo---Wonwoo!” 

Your walls flutter around his fingers and make it harder for him to thrust them in and out with how tight you get. 

“That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby~” 

His deep voice makes you whine - nails digging into his arm and body trembling as the pleasure steadily washes over you. 

“Ah, bet your face is so pretty right now too~” 

“Mmh, s-stop...” Your cheeks burn in slight embarrassment from his constant praise but you can’t deny the way it goes straight to your core and only prolongs your orgasm. 

“Don’t be so shy, baby. It’s only you and me here.” 

Wonwoo leans away slightly to kiss the crown of your head - still working you through your orgasm as you sigh contentedly in his arms. 

Various thoughts run through his head in the moment, but the one that sits at the forefront of his mind is definitely how to make sure he kept treating you right. 

Starting with your date that he would spend time meticulously planning.

‘Ah, I should ask Mingyu for some advice.’ 

[rowyn-writes]

A Mother's Love Part Two

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, major angst, implications of depression

Pairings: Dean x Wife!Reader

Characters: Dean, Jack, Sam, Reader, Cas (Mentioned only)

Word count: 3k

You sat on the couch of your childhood home, staring blankly at the T.V. Your knees were pulled up to your chin as you had your arms wrapped around your legs. It had been three weeks since you left the bunker, and you felt empty inside.

Your mother sat beside you, a cup of tea and honey in her hand and a concerned look on her face. "Darling, you have to eat something. I know you haven't been feeling well, but you still need to stay healthy." You didn't respond to her as she set the cup of tea in your hands.

Everything felt numb. It was like you didn't feel any emotions at all. The world felt dull. Like all color had been stripped and it left you in darkness.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" She asked softly. Even though you had been with your parents for almost a month now, you had never fully discussed what happened with Dean.

"Mom, please-"

"No, Y/N." She put her foot down. "You call me one day, clearly upset saying that you and Jack were going to stay here for a while. You get here and you don't look like the daughter that I knew. You've changed."

You scoffed at your mother's words. "I'm getting a divorce, of course I've changed."

She sucked in a breath of air. "Y/N. What happened?" You gave your mother a brief rundown of what happened with you, Dean and Jack. "Oh, honey." She sympathized. "I am so sorry. You know that you and Jack are welcomed to stay as long as you like. I know your father is excited to have a grandchild."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up to your mother. "What?"

"Jack, of course." She explained. "Look at them. Your dad's so happy. It's about time you give us a grandson."

"Lord knows you couldn't count on Chris for that." You rolled your eyes. "He can't keep a girl to save his life." Your smile began to fade slightly as your stomach did flips. Your mom noticed your green complexion and ran to grab a trash can. It was nearly too late as you felt your dinner from last night coming back up. She held your hair back as you did so, calling for your dad to get a wet washcloth.

You felt a cold cloth across your forehead, cooling your body. "Mom!" Jack said worriedly. "Are you okay?.

"She's okay, kiddo." Your dad assured him. "She's just not feeling too well." He mumbled skeptically.

You sat back against the couch, holding the rag to your head. "Jack," Your mom called. "Why don't you and I go make some cookies?"

Jack smiled at the idea, looking to you for approval. "You don't have to ask me, sweetheart. Go have fun."

You mother dipped down to whisper something unintelligible in your dad's ear before going to the kitchen.

"Y/N," He shook his head. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Because I don't want it to be real." You muttered. "I don't want to think about the last thing that Dean said to me or the look on his face. I want to wake up and for this whole thing to be a dream. But I know it's not. I won't wake up next to him tomorrow and I don't get to tell him how much I love him." You chocked on a sob, covering you mouth with your hand so Jack wouldn't hear.

"Oh, my sweet girl." Your dad said softly, pulling you into his side. "I am so sorry, my darlin'." You rested your head on his shoulder as tears slipped down your cheeks. "That's not it, though. Is it? There's something else."

"Papa, I think I'm pregnant." You confessed. "I'm late and I've been sick all week."

"Have you taken a test yet?" He asked. You shook your head. "Okay, I'll tell you what. I'll go by the drug store and get a couple of tests, just to be sure, and I'll grab you some food on the way home. How does that sound?"

"Great." You said with a small smile. He kissed the top of your head before grabbing the keys and heading out of the house.

---

Five.

Five tests that had come back positive. Each one that you looked at made your heart sink more and more. "Oh god." You whimpered. "Damnit."

"What does it say, sweetie?" Your mother questioned from the other side of the door. You slowly opened it up and showed her the positive pregnancy test.

"Are they all positive?" You nodded.

"What am I gonna do?"

"I think you should call Dean-"

"No." You said firmly. "I'm not calling Dean. He made it very obvious that he didn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"Y/N," Your mother spoke firmly. "I'm not justifying what Dean said or did in the moment, however, he was just as hurt as you were because you were leaving with Jack and you didn't know how long you would be gone. I really think you should call him. I think he would want to know you're pregnant with his baby."

You sighed at her words. You knew she had a point. She was your mother, she's always right. "What if he doesn't care?" You whispered. "What if he hears my voice and hands up on me?"

"Then that's his loss, honey." She cooed. "The least you can do is try."

---

MEANWHILE, AT THE BUNKER;

"Dean." Sam shook his brother. "Dean. C'mon dude, wake up."

Dean groaned as his eyes peeled open. "What?" He grumbled.

"You've been sleeping in here all night." Sam said, crossing his arms. "You should probably get some rest in your own bed, or at the very least, the couch. And charge your phone while you're at it, it's dead."

Dean stretched add he looked at the empty whiskey bottle set on the table and the picture of your wedding day beside it. It had been a rough few weeks since you had left. "You know I can't go sleep in that damn bed." He growled.

"Dean, I offered to switch rooms with you-"

"I don't want to switch rooms!" He snapped. "I want my wife back."

Sam frowned as he looked at his brother. He looked awful. He hasn't shaven in weeks, his hair's a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Why don't you call her, Dean?"

"Because, after what I said, she'll never take me back. I was too harsh on her. Plus my phone is broken."

"One, you have ten phones, and two, yeah, you were a complete ass." Sam agreed. "You should have seen her when she left here. I had never seen anyone so. . . Broken before. You know they sparkle she had in her eyes?" Dean nodded. "It was gone. Her entire face seemed dull, almost like she had aged ten years."

Dean put his head in his hands, feeling defeated. "What have I done?"

"I don't know, but you had better make it right."

---

"Still no answer?" Your father asked. You had called Dean three times now and still no answer.

"Nope. Not a sound."

"I'm sorry honey," Your mother sympathized, rubbing your back. It's that anything we can do?"

"Yeah," You nodded. "I need space. I need to spend more time with Jack before the baby comes. I just want to know what it's like to be a mother."

"Of course." Your dad agreed. "Take the keys to the cabin in Colorado. I know that's a lot of good memories there and no pesky neighbors to worry about "

"Thanks, dad." You smiled. "We'll be outta here soon."

"You don't have to leave in a rush, kiddo. You know that we love having you here."

"I know."

---

"Why are we going to your parents cabin in Colorado?" Jack asked curiously as he peered out the window.

"Uh," You bit your lip as you tried to come up with a suitable lie to tell Jack. You hated how much you were lying to Jack lately, but you knew that he wouldn't understand the things that you were going through. "I just wanted to show you the place and stay up there for a little while. It's nice and quiet, you'll love it. It's cold up there and it's snowy in the winter. I used to go sledding all the time when I was younger and then my parents would call me in for hot chocolate and a movie. We can do that together. How does that sound, Jack?"

"It sounds great, Mom!" He smiled goofily. Every time he called you 'Mom,' your heart melted. You loved that Jack felt so comfortable around you to call you his mother. You knew that you would never be able to replace Kelly, and you would never want to, but you did want to make him feel safe and loved. You wanted Jack to know what a mother's love feels like. Jack blamed himself for the death of his mother, and you understood his grief, but you had told him time and time again that it wasn't his fault. Kelly wanted to go through with the pregnancy and refused to listen to anyone else's opinions on the matter. You just wished he understood that.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek, quickly wiping it away. "What's wrong, Mom?" Jack questioned. "Is it about Dean?"

You glanced over at Jack in surprise. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, Sam and Dean aren't here, and Dean hasn't called you to check up on you since we left. I know that whenever you go on a hunt by yourself, Dean calls you everyday to make sure you're okay."

You sighed heavily as you looked at the road in front of you. "Dean and I are. . . Going through a tough time right now. That's why I wanted to get away for a while. And I didn't want to go by myself, so that's why I wanted you to come with me."

"Are we ever going back to the bunker?"

"I don't know. . . It's a difficult situation, Jack. Right now, I don't think that I will be going back home anytime soon. But if you want to go back, I'll take you back. I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"I want to stay with you." He said firmly. "But I also want you to be happy. You don't look happy anymore. You don't smile or laugh the way you used to. You sit on the couch watching reruns of Friends, and I've heard you crying at night. Sometimes I think you forget that I don't sleep very much."

You said nothing in response, knowing that Jack was right. You wanted to call Dean one more time, but you knew it was fruitless. He wasn't going to answer. But you did have Sam. When you finally arrived at the cabin, you sent Jack to unpack while you dialed Sam's number. After three rings, he finally picked up.

"Hello, Y/N? Are you okay? How's Jack?" He asked in one breath.

"Hey, Sammy. I'm fine, and so is Jack. I just wanted to call and make sure that you haven't gotten killed by anything."

"Nope, we're still alive." He gave a small chuckle. "How are you, Y/N, really? Don't lie to me, because I know when you're lying."

"I miss him." You sniffed. "Being away from him hurts me." Your voice cracked, forcing you to clear your throat. "We've been married for five years. And I know that to the average person that doesn't seem like a long time, but we're hunters, Sam. You know how hard it is to stay in a relationship in our line of work. I've been in love with him for half my life, and now, for us to be in this situation, it sucks, Sam. I can't think of any other word to describe it. It really fucking sucks."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he listened to you cry. "I'm sorry this is happening, Y/N. I never thought that this would happen to you and Dean. But I've known Dean my whole life, and I've known you since we were twenty, so I think that I'm entitled to make a judgement on this." You let out a small laugh. "You two have been in love longer than you've been together, but both of you have been to dumb to realize it. You argue like cats and dogs because you're so certain about what you believe in. You're both so passionate about things that you never let up. And now that you're finally together, you have been so happy. Dean has never felt this way about anyone that he's been with, male or female. He loves you so much, Y/N, that it kills him. You have both come too far to for things to end like this. I'm going to tell you the exact same thing I told Dean; fix this."

"I want to, Sammy, I just don't know how."

"Stop hiding, for one. You can't fix something when you're hundreds of miles away." You groaned as you felt a wave of nausea was over you. "Y/N?" You quickly made your way to the bathroom. "Y/N? What's going on? Are you okay?"

You leaned against the wall once you were done throwing up. "Yeah, yeah, Sam, I'm okay."

"What was that about, then?" Sam questioned. When you didn't answer, he began putting the pieces together himself. "You're pregnant."

"SHH!" You hissed. "Don't say that!"

"Why not? Because you don't want Dean to know?" He spoke coldly.

"Sam, please, don't say anything."

"How long have you known, Y/N? And how long do you plan on keeping this from Dean?"

You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I've known for a couple of days, okay? And I don't know when or how I'm going to tell Dean. He made it very clear that he didn't want anything to do with me the last time we talked. Besides, I tried to call him and he didn't answer my calls, so don't try to pin me off as the bad guy here."

"When did you try to call him?" The hard edge in Sam's voice disappeared.

"Three days ago, when I found out I was pregnant."

You could hear Sam let out a small laugh. "Three days ago I came in the kitchen to find Dean passed out on the table, hung over as hell and holding on to the picture of your wedding day. And beside him was his broken phone. His main phone, which I'm assuming is the one that you called?"

"Yeah. . ." You said meekly.

"Hang up and call his second phone. Please, will you do that for me?"

"Yes," You nodded, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I love you, Y/N/N."

"I love you too, Sammy." You sighed as you hung up the phone. You were terrified to call Dean. You hadn't spoken to him since that night all those weeks ago. You were still hurt, and you knew that Dean was hurting as well, and all you wanted was to hear his voice. You took a deep breath as you dialed his second phone number.

It rang five times before going to voicemail, making your heart sink. Not a minute later, the number called back. "Hello?"

"Y/N." Dean's voice said gruffly. "Sam told me you were going to call."

"Did. . . Did he tell you anything else?" You asked.

"Just that I needed to talk to you. What's going on?"

"I miss you," You confessed. You needed to tell Dean everything, and that included telling him how you felt. "I hate the way things ended between us, and I know that it wasn't solely on you or me. But I love you, Dean, and I will never stop loving you. And I know it's unfair I left and this is how I'm trying to get you back; over the phone. I would much rather be doing this in person. But I love you, Dean, and I always will. No matter what you say or do, I love you."

You could hear Dean struggling to breathe correctly. "Where are you?"

"My parents cabin, wh-"

"I'll be tomorrow morning." And with that, he hung up.

---

You paced back and forth in the living room, biting your nails. Dean didn't say what time he was going to be here, but he just said that he would be here in the morning. You had stayed up all night thinking about him. About the way his hair fell into his face after a shower, and how he always smelled like whiskey and firewood. The way his eyes would crinkle at the edges whenever he laughed, really laughed. But your favorite thing was when you had just finished a hunt, and you would go to lie down in bed, Dean would pull you close to him and whisper how much he loves you.

A sharp knock at the door snapped you out of your trance. "Who is it, Mom?" Jack asked, peering around the corner.

"Why don't you come see, kiddo." You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans before opening the door to reveal Sam and Dean. "Hi," You smiled. Sam was the first to come inside and hug you. He grinned as he pulled away, ruffling your hair.

"Why don't I take Jack into town for a little bit while you guys work this out?" He suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. Jack, go put on your shoes, you're going into town with Sam for a little while." Jack beamed at your works, hurriedly putting his shoes on a following Sam out the door.

"Hi," You said once more after Sam and Jack were gone. Dean didn't say a word as he hugged you tightly. You melted into his touch, feeling comfort in his embrace. The familiar smell of whiskey and firewood filled your nostrils. You closed your eyes to savor this moment. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

taglist:

@vicariouslythruspn @mimaria420 @fofisstilinski @daphnen21 @katwed @anunstablefangirl @desimarie12 @alderpine @rebeccaitsnotwhatyouthink @akshi8278

Also, yes, there will be a part 3

[notnctu]

now playing: can’t help falling in love - elvis presley 

lee jeno x fem!reader genre - fluff details - established relationship  word count - 1,582 synopsis - where you and jeno attend your best friends’ wedding.

a/n - this is for @kpopscape‘s jukebox friday <3 inspo from the wedding scene in the movie crazy rich asians! also i hope this isn’t confusing LOL the first part is a back and forth between jeno/(y/n) pov, like it switches between the conversations but ultimately they’re in separate rooms -author doie ❀

Lee Jeno stands in a pampered black and white suit, with a classic black tie situated up to his neck. Hair is slicked with a thick gel that he can’t wait to wash out, but gives his forehead a special feature for this very special day. He’s nervous, not entirely sure why, he’s not the one getting married. 

The outdoor wedding scene has always been one of your favorites. A rooftop that looks over the vast ocean, the thin horizon that separates water from sky. The decorative floral altar frames the center perfectly. You’re incredibly jittery, not entirely sure why, you’re not the one getting married.

Your best friends panic respectively in their own rooms. It’s mad chaos when you re-enter the cramped room. The mom of the groom is leaving no space for breaths, beating down the neck of your best friend. As your duty of maid of honor, you’re rushing to her rescue.

“I think it’s time to start heading to your seats now.” You usher every relative that isn’t suppose to be in the area. Excited chatter erupt from each of them, overly joyous that the occasion is about to start. 

Now, you have a best friend to reassure as she sits in her glorious chiffon gown and a heavy frown on her painted lips. “What can I do to help the bride?” An unfamiliar peppiness embodies you, hoping to lighten her mood. 

Smoothing your own dress under you, you sit down in front of her and hold her hands in your own. Her glittery eye makeup catches the light from the marveling late afternoon sun and the strands of her hair are pinned by pearl clips out of the frame of her delicate face. 

“Is this what cold feet feels like?” She asks carefully. And when she looks up, her glossy eyes are much of a shock as the question itself. 

In the groom’s room, every person is scrambling for their dress shoes. Jeno sits in the corner of the room, quietly observing the frantic lack of responsibility on display while also fulfilling his role as best man by consoling the sullen groom on his big day. 

“What does it feel like?” Jeno genuinely inquires and he waits for the answer from his best friend.

Jeno notices his slumped forward shoulders, as if all the confidence in his best friend is drained out. Nonetheless, this is the best he’s ever seen him clean up. A smooth shave, without a cut in sight and accessories that actually complement his suit. Throughout all the craziness, this is a show stopping man before him. Who knew suits can make such a difference?

“Cold feet... it feels confusing.” His best friend fiddles his thumbs as if guilt preoccupied his conscience for feeling this way on his wedding day. “I love her, but what is that suppose to feel like? Do you know what love feels like, Jeno?”

Jeno blinks and without a doubt answers, “I do.” and his automatic thought is you. He will never stop falling in love with you. 

Your best friend peers out the window and the empty room provides a serene silence on this beautiful day. The serious question now fills the air instead. 

You gulp, the pure image of Jeno’s smile enters your mind. Love is Jeno, he holds your hand as if he’s always afraid that you’d let go. “I do.” And a gentle smile finally rests on your best friend’s face. You simply can’t help falling in love with Jeno and she knows.

“It’s like how a river flows into the sea.” Jeno stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. The analogy sounded better in his head, but he can see the gears turn. 

“It’s just meant to be.” You add to your best friend’s heavy sigh. 

“It’s time.” A knock startles the men in the room and Jeno stands up. He instructs his best friend to take a few deep breaths before heading out. Jeno lightly dusts his shoulders and bids his good friend a warm smile.

“It’s just meant to be.” Jeno whispers and gives him a firm pat, and his friend nods. A smile grows tenfold at Jeno’s last words. 

Jeno has always been the person of the friend group who gives love advice before he’s ever felt it. It wasn’t for four years ago when he met you did he actually understand what he told others.

Love is more than emotional. It’s taking your hand in a large crowd so you’re not lost. It’s early evening dinners spent together. It’s active listening to the other person’s troubles. It’s simple, yet too complex to explain. Some things are meant to be. 

Finally, you two rejoin with one another and form the orderly line that every pairing walks down the aisle in. Jeno takes your hand, as you offer your world to him. The charming toothy smile that he’ll never grow tired of seeing, your hands intertwine. You both seem anxious, not entirely sure why, you two aren’t the ones getting married. 

But you two face the closed doors that are about to open. The soft gentle song begins to play, announcing the start of their beautiful journey. 

Jeno gives your hand a small squeeze, “everything okay?” His whisper is almost inaudible. 

“Not something I couldn’t fix. You?” You mumble back, the doors open and the groom starts his walk down the aisle. 

“I do learn from the best.” From side eye peeks, you see the sly grin on your boyfriend’s charming face. “So yeah, not something I couldn’t fix.” 

You both walk down the aisle in unison. The white rolled out sheet that has pink flower petals scattered across disappear under your feet with each step. Mutual friends sit in the crowd and their distant relatives all wear expressions of awe.

The music is drowned out when you two reach the altar, separating to join the different sides of the couple. Something inside you tells you not to look at Jeno standing on the other side, not yet. 

Facing forward, each groomsmen and bridesmaid pairing flood in one by one. The final repetition of the song and your best friend is ready for her entrance. Her sheer veil drapes over her face, a large bouquet of pink roses in her hands, each step brings her closer to her future husband.

You’re immersed, completely close to tears just at the moving image of your best friend finding a love so true. Years after years, she’s been wandering the Earth set searching for a perfect partner. You felt a bit foolish to have found Jeno before she had found someone, wondering if you rushed too soon into a relationship. 

Jeno has always felt unreal to you. There’s something new and old to love about him every day. You love that he just always knows what to say, remembering a moment in time when you asked, “shall I stay?” and for him to reply, “would it be a sin if you did?” for you, of course not. 

You had promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry and everything was smooth sailing, until the vows and you consequently make eye contact with Jeno across the altar.

It’s as if time stopped, you two are in your own world. Jeno’s eyebrows rise up subtly in shock, like a whole waterfall of epiphanies washed over him. He sees you blinking back at him, as beautiful as ever in a formal gown and a small bouquet in your hands.

Jeno hears the vows, “for I can’t help falling in love... with...” and your mouths move in synchronization as you two mouth the last word silently to yourselves, “you.” 

Your heart is ready to burst out of your chest and a tear happens to slip down your face. Not only are you incredibly happy for the newly weds, you’re soaring through the sky that Jeno loves you as much as you love him.

Jeno smiles sweetly at the droplet that draws down your cheek and your poor attempt to wipe it away. But he’s staring at you as if you’re all he’s ever wanted in love. Is this what his friend feels as they exchange rings? The realization that this is the only person you’re ever going to love. 

He’s made up his mind. He’s going to marry you one day, like it’s set in stone. “I do.” Your friends’ futures are sealed and celebratory cheers break you two out of the trance. 

“Congratulations.” You hug your best friend as tightly as you can before she walks down the aisle together with her new husband. Jeno steps forward, interlocking your fingers proudly and placing a small kiss on the back of your hand.

“I can’t wait to experience that all over again.” There’s a happiness in his step and the way his smile beams. “Only, it will be us exchanging vows at the altar.” 

Perhaps Jeno is intoxicated from the joyous atmosphere of the wedding, but you don’t mind. You love him all the more to want to share something as special as today, “you aren’t ready for what I would say to you.” 

Jeno chuckles, pinching your cheek lovingly. “In that case, you better make me cry, you big soft baby.” 

You pretend that you’re offended, pouting a little before bursting into giggles with your boyfriend. There’s a million things you’d want to say to Jeno, but the one thing you’ll never forget to mention would be, “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

him halting over words and nat gently encouraging him to keep going and assuring him he doesn’t have to be embarrassed and he’s doing well, the baby isn’t judging she just wants to hear chris’s voice. and he can keep going 🥺

CW: Brief reference to past pet whump/noncon, adult illiteracy, some stimming, referenced parental death

Naomi and Natalie are in the kitchen talking over lunch, eating grilled cheese and tomato soup while they plan some kind of party for Miss Ruth that the old woman isn't supposed to know about.

Their voice filter softly through to the living room where Chris sits, legs crossed, humming while lining up a set of blocks from darkest to lightest color. He's already eaten, and so has Kaelah, Naomi's daughter. He could have gone back to his room, but instead he decided to watch Kaelah, and felt himself melt happily when Naomi didn't even hesitate before saying it was okay for him to be alone with her in the living room.

He was never trained for Domestic or Companion work - he was never meant to be wanted for those things, only for one other thing, the thing he never wanted - but he likes kids, and they seem to like him, and he likes that Naomi thinks he is a good person, good enough and smart enough to not hurt something so precious to her.

He's proud, and nervous, and Kaelah has already tried to pull a small pile of books down over her own head. But he caught those before they fell, so he still feels pretty good about it all.

Now, they're playing blocks, although mostly Kaelah is ordering him around while he lines them up. But it's like playing. And lining the blocks up in a perfect row is soothing, and feels good.

It's right for them to line up just so, turned at right angles to each other on the ends.

Kaelah - two years old with frizzy dark curly hair and bright big brown eyes - is watching Chris with rapt fascination as he works. She has a matching unicorn t-shirt and leggings on, and Chris would wear unicorn shirts if there were any in his size.

Or if Jake wore them, because they'd be safe shirts, then.

"Wed," Kaelah says, solemn and demanding, and smacks at a big red block. "Wed, K'iss."

"Red," Chris says, softly, emphasizing the R sound, and taps on the block, then picks it up and adds it to the line. "That's, that's, that's red... red block."

"Wed," Kaelah agrees, and smacks the block again.

"Good, um, good color, good, good color, Kay," Chris says, and finds another red block to place next to the first one. "Reds, reds are good."

Jake is out with Addie, and Antoni let Kauri take him shopping at Kauri's favorite thrift store. Leila is out with who Chris thinks is her boyfriend, not that Leila tells anyone anything ever. It's just Chris and Natalie, Naomi and Kaelah.

The toddler pushes herself to her feet and walks with an unsteady gait back to the big bag that the blocks came from, pulling things out to discard on the floor without looking, clearly on a mission.

Chris watches, head tilted, hair over his eyes. He's been growing his hair longer, and the copper brushes almost to his shoulders. Some days he holds it back with a clip.

Sir would hate his hair this long, but Chris likes it, likes the swoosh of the end of the strands along his skin if he tilts his head just right, the soft weight on the back of his neck so unlike his collar. A weight he can lift just by pulling it back. A weight he controls.

Sir would hate his earrings, too, two black studs punched in his earlobes and then one tiny silver ring up in the shell on the right side. He wants one in the cartilage, too, but he has to work up the courage to look at the needle again.

Kaelah pulls out stuffed ponies in rainbow colors and a brown fuzzy monster with disturbingly real-looking teeth she calls her "ugler friend", a small bag of glow in the dark unicorns in flat green, GI Joe's, a firetruck that makes siren noises and lights if you press a button on the side, a confused looking plastic fireman, and then finally a box larger than her own head, with big thick cardboard pages.

"Weed, K'iss," Kaelah says, toddling back over with the book clutched in her chubby fingers, dropping it without ceremony directly into his feet. "Weed. Weed now, weed, weed, K'iss!"

Chris runs his fingers over the smooth shiny cover, squinting against the first hint of a headache when he looks at the seemingly hand-drawn letters in yellow layered over green and blue and red. "Good, goodnight Moon," He says haltingly out loud.

Kaelah grins, flashing little baby teeth, clapping. "Moon book!" Then she makes her eyes very big and says, "Pleaaase Moon Book?"

Chris's heart skips a beat, nerves sparking over his arms, but he gives a faint smile and nods. He can do this. The book isn't so many pages, and he's been working so, so hard. He hasn't passed out trying to read in weeks now. Last week he even read Kauri a whole poem.

Kaelah plops herself right down in Chris's lap, snuggling her back right into his chest, her soft frizz of hair tickling his narrow chin. Chris opens the book and looks down, taking a deep breath.

His head hurts in warning, but it's not too bad. And if he's going to be able to go to college, he's going to have to be able to read to take the test for it.

When he starts to read, he feels a strange sense of being somewhere else, a long time ago, and that he isn't the one reading but the one being read to.

"In, in the... The gr... Guh-errrr... gr-ate... great green, green room there was a, a, a... a tuh-ehl... tele... telephone, and a red buh, balloon... and a pick-... picture of the cow juh-... juh-humping oh, over the moon..."

His voice is low and halting, and Chris has to push through the static and ache that tells him not to do this, it's against training, against policy, it's not allowed. He hates his reading voice, slow and stumbling, sounding out phonetics. He's eighteen years old, almost nineteen he thinks, and he can't read.

His lips press together, fighting the sadness and anger. Chris isn't angry very much - he's too happy for that. But sometimes happiness at what he has still gets all mixed up with his furious grief over everything he must have lost.

Whoever he used to be could read, he knows that. Whoever he used to be could read, and do math problems that didn't involve pictures of apples, and wouldn't have to struggle to read to a little girl the easiest book in the whole world.

This is your favorite, huh, baby?

The memory of her voice has been worse when he reads, but he doesn't tell anyone.

He's afraid if he tells, he'll stop hearing it again. He doesn't know whose voice it is, not exactly - sometimes he does but then the memory is gone again and he forgets - but he knows he loved her, and she's dead, and her voice is all he has to hold onto.

"I'm sorry," He whispers. "I'm, I'm, not... not not a good reader."

Kaelah, thumb in her mouth, turns to look at him and pops her thumb out. "K'iss," She says, firmly. "Weed, K'iss. Bun bun kitty."

"I, I know-" He's not sure how, but he does, he does know there's bunnies and a kitten and mittens and the old lady still whispering 'hush'... "I'm just, just, so bad, and-"

"Keep going, honey." Nat's voice is soft from the doorway and he looks up to see her leaning against it with one hand, in her usual jeans and shirt. Her shirt says PEARL JAM and Chris tenses as he realizes he read the words without thinking.

It didn't hurt any worse than the other reading already has.

"Keep it up." She smiles down at him, her brown hair carefully braided and laying over one shoulder. "You're doing great, Chris."

"But, but, but, but I, I, I keep having to... to-to sound it out," Chris says, slumping a little.

Kaelah smacks the open book with her hands. "K'iss more!"

"She doesn't mind that," Nat says gently. "She just likes your voice, and you. Take your time. Everybody starts somewhere, and you've already gotten over the biggest speed bump."

Chris swallows, looking down again. "I, I have?"

She nods and Chris licks at his lips, moving his finger to find the words to start again.

"And... and there, there were three little bears sitting on chairs-"

Oh, I did all those without sounding it out, he thinks, with a stab of something like a sharp pride.

"-and two little kittens and a pair of, of, of mittens..."

He turns the page and Kaelah takes up sucking her thumb again. Chris is aware of Nat still watching from the doorway, the warm and reassuring weight of her presence, and how badly he wants her to be proud of him.

"And a, a little toy house and a young mow, mouse..."

You got this, sweetie, you're doing so good! I'm so proud of you, reading so early! Screw your doctors, baby boy, we got this, you and me! Screw 'em for saying you wouldn't read!

Chris lets the elation in the voice of the woman he doesn't remember carry him through the rest of the words when he turns the pages again, bit by bit.

"And a comb and a br, brush and, and, and a bowl full of mush... And, and a quiet old lay-... lay-dee... lady who was, was whis-... whis-perrrr... whispering, 'hush'."

Goodnight room, reads a tiny boy's voice inside his mind, as the headache throbs but doesn't stop him.

"Goodnight room," He whispers, echoing the boy, the memory of someone he isn't anymore. "Goodnight moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the, the moon."

Kaelah pats his hand with hers. Her little fingers are always damp. "Good job, K'iss," She encourages him.

Chris looks up to see Nat's smile.

"Good job, Chris," Nat says, and he breathes in the praise, lets it settle in his bones and rush through his blood.

In his head, somewhere deeper than the conditioned ache, she whispers, Good job, Tris, I'm so proud of you.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 12- Grief

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Masterlist Ko-fi

Over the course of your relationship Hawks has seen you pissed off quite a bit. He’s seen you mildly annoyed, he’s seen you decently irritated, and he’s seen you practically rabid with rage. He is intimately familiar with the spectrum of your anger.

And yet all of those times combined cannot compare to the level of rage he sees in you now.

Red Riot, who Hawks now realizes must have arrived with you, rushes to Bakugo’s side to check on him. Only once you’re positive Hawks and Bakugo won’t lunge at each other again do you unceremoniously drop Hawks to the ground. “What the fuck is your problem?” you demand as you storm over to him. “Look I’m sorry but-“ he starts but you don’t let him finish. “There shouldn’t be a ‘but’ in that sentence Hawks why the fuck are you fighting Bakugo of all people? You could’ve killed him!” “Technically he could’ve killed me too, let’s not make him sound helpless.” “That is NOT the point Hawks.” “Right yea no, of course it isn’t. Look I’m sorry things got out of hand but-” “Out of hand? OUT OF HAND? Your lack of self awareness is genuinely fucking phenomenal my GOD.” “Christ will you fucking listen to me instead of cutting me off every fucking time I try to speak?” “You don’t get to make demands right now! You know all this shit reflects back on me!” “Right your precious fucking reputation.” “Yes! My job relies on it remember!” “Could you forget about All Might and the press and whatever else for one goddamn minute? Our relationship is fucking drowning in it!” “What fucking relationship? I don’t even know what the fuck this is anymore.” “What are you on about now?” “We’re not lovers Hawks! We’re just strangers with the same damn hunger to be touched, to be loved, to feel anything at all and it’s gotten genuinely pathetic now.” “Pathetic?” “Yes pathetic! Because clearly we aren’t supposed to be together!” “Says who?” “Look around you Hawks! Apparently fucking everyone and everything!”

Your words seem to echo around the two of you, both of your chests heaving in the wake of the argument. Both of you had forgotten yourselves for a moment and as awareness creeps back in you suddenly can feel the eyes of every reporter and civilian in the area boring into you. “What are you saying (y/n)?” Hawks asks and his voice is heartbreakingly quiet, hands clenched into fists. “I’m saying this is done,” you reply. “Don’t do this, please, I love you and-“ “No you don’t Hawks. You might think you do but you don’t. We love love and the idea of it and for fleeting moments between the arguments and the press and our bosses and everything else we thought we had it but we don’t. Or at least it’s not strong enough to out weigh everything else. I’m sorry,” you sigh before turning away. Cameras flash and reporters shout questions but you ignore them all as you walk over to where Kirishima is helping Bakugo up off the ground. “(Y/n)-“ Bakugo starts to say but you cut him off. “Don’t. I’ll deal with you after we get you patched up,” you tell him before you and Kirishima start walking him back to your agency.

Hawks stares after you, feeling frozen in place as you leave him behind and take his shattered heart with you. “Told you so,” Monoma suddenly taunts from beside him. Hawks jumps, having not noticed when Monoma had come down from the building’s rooftop. Hawks whirls around to face him, grabbing hold of the collar of his shirt. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?” Monoma asks cheekily, jerking his head towards the still flashing cameras. Hawks’ grip tightens momentarily before releasing the other man. Unfortunately Monoma has a point and Hawks really isn’t eager to make things even harder for you. “Don’t worry bird boy, I’ll invite you to our wedding,” Monoma tells the other man before flouncing away, pleased with himself. Hawks tells himself the best he can do now is wait for you to calm down and talk to you then so without another word and before he can do anything else to worsen the situation, he takes off back to Endeavor’s agency and hopes the others from the task force will have good news to share.

The first words he hears when he walks into the meeting room on the top floor are “You’re a fucking idiot” from none other than Shoto Todoroki himself. “I really don’t want to talk about it,” Hawks sighs. “You’re the only one. Pretty much every gossip blog and news outlet ever is talking about it,” Tokoyami tells him. “Headlines are all about how (y/n) is rubbing off on you in the worst possible ways and speculating about your break up,” Midoriya adds in, an unspoken accusation buried beneath his faux neutral tone. “We didn’t break up, she’s just upset,” Hawks denies, desperate to be right. “Really? Looked like a break up to me and the thousands of people who’ve already read the articles and the few dozen people that watched this whole train wreck you started,” Shoto quips. “Can we please just focus on the mission? Please tell me you got good intel,” Hawks sighs. “Since some of us are capable of doing our job, yes. Luckily for you the terror group is in the building we were watching and since you and Kacchan drew so much attention to the other building they think we’re way off base in our search for them. We should be able to make a move by this weekend,” Midoriya informs him. “Great. What now?” Hawks replies. “Now we wait to move out and I go back to my agency to reassure my probably panicked best friend,” Midoriya bites out before handing the last of his operation notes to Shoto and storming out.

“Jesus, I thought Deku was a puppy,” Hawks remarks as the door slams closed. “Midoriya’s always been scary when he wants to be, he’s just also very genuinely kind,” Tokoyami shrugs. “Which is exactly why being on his bad side is a nightmare,” Shoto points out. “Thanks Shoto. Really making me feel better.” “I wasn’t trying to make you feel better. In fact you should feel bad.” “I’m gonna call her,” Hawks sighs as he pulls out his phone to dial your number. The first call rings for awhile before going to voicemail. So does the second. The third is sent straight to voicemail. The fourth doesn’t even go through as he’s promptly alerted his number has been blocked. Hawks swears and tosses his phone onto the table in frustration. “I must have really crossed the line,” he sighs. “You think?” Shoto asks with a raised eyebrow.

“For the record I threw the first punch,” Bakugo admits somewhat sheepishly as you dab at one of several cuts he sustained during the fight. “Unprovoked?” “Obviously not.” “Then it doesn’t change anything. And you’re not off the hook either, what the fuck were you thinking?” you question as you start bandaging him up. “I don’t know, Monoma was being a little shit which got Hawks all worked up and then I tried to get him to back down and we both got worked up and well... you know how that went,” he admits. He watches as your phone lights up again with Hawks’ contact info. You grab it, sending him to voicemail again before blocking his number and putting your phone back down. “Are you sure about breaking up with him?” Bakugo asks and you can tell by how uncharacteristically gentle his voice is that he’s concerned. “I.... don’t know. In a perfect world I’d love to take the time to unpack all of this bullshit and work it out with him. I already know I’ll miss him. I’ll miss the mornings with him laying in my bed and the thought of a forever him and me but I bet all he’ll miss is my body,” you confess. “Don’t you think you’re not giving him enough credit?” “Probably. But I can’t sit at home and be his housewife which means I have to focus on salvaging my career. I’m lucky All Might is out of the office, gives me time to try and think up a sales pitch.” “You’re a good hero (y/n). All Might knows that.” “He also knows he gave me an ultimatum,” you point out. You finish off bandaging Bakugo up and he looks as if he’s about to say something else but you resume talking before he can. “I’m going to head home and lie low. Hopefully I’ll still be employed next time you see me,” you sigh before giving Bakugo’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze and walking out.

The video of you and Hawks’ break up is already viral by the time you get back to your apartment.

You walk straight past the living room, completely ignoring your concerned roommates, and head right into your room. Your phone alerts you to several no doubt concerned texts from Midoriya but you ignore them all as you collapse onto your bed. You lie there for awhile, letting your phone ping almost incessantly with concern from your friends and all the news alerts mentioning your name. When your ringtone cuts through all the other alerts you almost ignore it, assuming it’s Midoriya calling to check on you. Your heart sinks when All Might’s name flashes on the screen instead. You take a deep breath, stubbornly ignoring the way it rattles in your chest, and then answer the phone. “(Y/n)....” All Might starts. “I know,” you answer. “We had a deal.” “I’m a good hero. You know I am.” “I know you are. But we had a deal. I’m sorry.”

Numb.

Achingly,

Heart wrenchingly,

World endingly,

Numb.

That’s how you feel as you listen to All Might continue to justify his decision without actually hearing a word he’s saying. You vaguely register apologies and talk of the agency’s reputation, but for the most part you’re too busy feeling your entire universe crashing down around you to pay much attention to his words. You don’t know how long it’s been when you finally register that he’s been calling your name. “(Y/n)! Are you alright?” All Might presses. You don’t answer. You hang up your phone, face still blank, as Denki and Mina appear in your doorway. They both look you over for a long moment before wordlessly climbing onto your bed to join you. They cuddle up on either side of you and only once you’re safely wrapped up in their arms do you finally allow yourself to break. You mourn the career you worked so hard for as sobs wrack through your body. Your chest and ribs burn with the force of it but the feeling is nothing compared to the bitter grief of losing your job. As your friends hold you, you utter only one heartbreaking phrase between sobs:

“What am I if not a hero?”

Author’s Note: 🥲 we’re getting close to the end game now everyone, and boy oh boy does it hurt

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

[henryholmesacademia]

Predilection Chapter One

A/N: ahhhhh....I’m so nervous and excited! This isn’t my first time writing and publishing something on tumblr, but it is the first time I write for this guy. Hope you like it, and hope you stick around but please don’t feel obligated too. I don’t like doing synopsis or previews because I feel like it gives the story away, so you’ll just have to feel this one out. Enjoy! Or not, I can’t tell you how to live your life <3

beta reader, co-writer, motivator, and all around love of my life: @lost-aesthetic-of-past​ 

This isn’t a special story.

Might not even be a story at all.

But rather a telling of events that happened in a certain order and have been strung together to create a tale that could cure the boredom of the mind and indulge the land of fantasy.

We won’t start from the beginning. I’ll spare you the boring details and let you come to your own conclusions.

We’ll start our telling of tales in a humble tearoom.

The famous detective Sherlock Holmes had just finished having a somewhat futile conversation with Edith in the search for his younger sister. Come to think of it, it was not much of a conversation as much as it was a reprimanding of sorts. It might even be considered educating him on a subject he knew nothing of and needed a good slap into reality.

“You said she was traveling with a boy?” Sherlock inquired as she was making her exit from the room.

She stops at the doorway. “A useless boy, she called him. I couldn’t help but be reminded of a woman who traveled through here yesterday. We were about to close when she came in. She was wet from rain, but she didn’t seem to mind it at all.” She turns to look at him. “She said you would be here today, and it seems her assumption was correct. She told me that she would be waiting for you at 6 o'clock, Mr. Holmes, and that you had better dress nicely.”

“She left no name?” He raises an eyebrow.

Edith shrugged. “She was very certain that you would know who she was and that you would know exactly where she wanted you.”

Sherlock Holmes has always been talented at keeping his cool. Demonstrating no emotion. His face, some compared it to the likeness of a statue with how unmoved he was in situations.

This would be no different. It had been years since he had last seen the woman who was beckoning him.

And yet, she was always able to pique his curiosity.

“I see you received my message, Mr. Holmes.” Her voice was only accompanied by the sound of her heels. It had seemed that all sound in the bustle of society had come to a stop. No clinking of glass. No servers rushing passed them. It was just her. “And you dressed for the occasion.” Her eyes zero in on his attire. “I do love a man in a tie, as I’m sure you are aware." Oh, how she loved to tease him.

The detective knew basic manners, he was taught right from wrong, how to be respectful toward women, not to mention he had observed enough of the body language and cues of people. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to stand up and pull out a chair for her.

"I thought sending you a message would better prepare you for this, but I see it made no difference.” She sets her bag on the table and sits down on her own accord. She both loved and hated etiquette. There were so many rules and guidelines to follow. However, it did work to her advantage at times. “Tell me, Mr. Holmes, what adventure are you on right at this moment?”

“When did you return from overseas?” He manages to find his voice, though he never meant to lose it.

“I’ve been told that you are looking for someone. Could it be that marquee from the papers?” She stirs the spoon of the tea that a server had set down in front of her.

“You are avoiding my question. Mycroft is not aware that you are back, is he?” He lets out a deep breath. There was never a chance of getting a straight answer from her. She only knew how to respond in teasing and quick wit. Every smile devious, and every word was calculated.

“And you are very rudely avoiding mine.” Her smile, that teasing smile of hers. “Would you like help with the case of the marquee? If you ask nicely, I’ll go with you. Finding people who don’t want to be found is a specialty of mine.” She lifts the teacup from the saucer to her mouth innocently enough, but he knew better.

“But dealing with the damage you leave in your wake isn’t?” His words stop her drink and she places the cup back on the saucer.

“What a pity.” Her face forms a small pout. “I was rather liking our game.”

“You always think of things as some kind of game. There is going to be a day when you will find not everyone wants to join in. Not everyone is a toy who is vying for your attention in hope that you will play with them.”

“I will learn that the day you learn that people are more than answers to riddles.” She challenges. “Indulge me for a moment, why did you come here? You knew it was me who sent for you. You remembered my favorite restaurant, my favorite tea, and if they did not give you this table, I will forever assume that you were the one who asked for the table that was in the farthest corner of the room.”

“You do not want Mycroft to know you are here.” He tries to gauge her reaction and steer the conversation. Like always, she gives a grin. A true Cheshire cat smile.

“No. And you forget, Mr. Holmes, nobody knows anything until I want them to know.” She gathers her purse and stands up from the chair. “Here I was, hoping that we would have a nice dinner. It’s been…” she trails off as she looks for the right word. “Refreshing to see you, Mr. Holmes.”

“Why waste your time having dinner with me?” He can’t help but ask her. Just from observing her, he remembered how she would do nothing if it did not have a motive that she would find useful.

She pauses for a moment as she considers his question and gives him a genuine smile. A rare, but beautiful sight. “Is it so hard to believe that your company might be missed?” As she walks past him, she leans down close to his ear. “As for earlier, this isn’t a game to me, Mr. Holmes. But if it was…you were always my favorite player.” She whispers and leaves him to dwell with the aroma of sugar and spice in the air.

The great detective takes to his pipe that night as he stares into the fire. If you were to see him, you would think that he would be calculating his next move or contemplating his own life. That he would be entirely concerned for the welfare of his sister or mother that has vanished into thin air.

No.

He was thinking about his encounter with that woman. Not even the one from this evening, but all the previous ones he had with her. Each one is more memorable than the last. But none shall ever haunt his memory as much as when he first met her.

He never expected such a woman of high society to be standing in the same room with Lestrade right next to a crime scene. Her voice floated melodiously through the room as he walked through the front door. The smell of spice and sugar leads him to where a woman had her back turned to him while answering the Scotland Yard inspector’s questions.

“Ah, Mr. Holmes this is-” Lestrade begins.

The woman turns to see him, the ensemble on her hat was grand and elegant, but her striking eyes that hide the mischief behind them and her smile, which seemed to match the sentiment, was not hidden or dimmed. They were…quite beautifully complemented by it, as he recalled the words his mother said to him once as a child. She extends her gloved hand. “Miss Harrison.” She finishes for Lestrade with a pearly white smile. “And you are?” She inquires.

He was shocked for a moment as her hand was extended toward him. Society would not have allowed it to happen as a young woman should never extend her hand, and she did not seem to be married. Her glove did not have an outdent from a wedding ring.

“This is Sherlock Holmes, we ask him for consultation, and he comes when he’s bothered to read a telegram from us,” Lestrade adds when Sherlock remains stoic and silent.

The corners of her mouth seemed to turn up even higher at that. “My oh my, Mr. Holmes, the papers do not do you justice.” She looks straight at his eyes when she speaks again. “Tell me, has anybody ever told you how incredibly blue your eyes are? Why, I keep finding myself stopping to admire them.”

“No, miss, I can not say that I have.” He releases her hand and clears his throat while stepping forward to examine what Lestrade had originally summoned him for a routine theft. But from what he could tell, the jewelry stolen was not the woman’s jewelry. For she seemed to not wear any. Women who could afford such jewelry never left their households without displaying a few pieces and any fortune she might have clearly was being spent and invested in their extravagant garments and perfumes.

“I apologize. He’s not - well he does tend to act like that sometimes.” Lestrade finds himself in a very awkward position at the moment.

She turns to see him examining a table, observing his side profile. “There is no need for an apology, inspector Lestrade. He’s exactly as I imagined him to be. He’ll do nicely for this case. My employer would be pleased.”

“Who is your employer again? I never caught the name.”

“Oh, I didn’t say. They would prefer it if they were not associated with what happened at all.” She pauses for a moment. “Is that any problem, Mr. Holmes?” Her voice is a little louder to get his attention.

He ignores her question.

Just as the inspector is about to apologize again, she gives him a grin. “I quite like him, Lestrade. I might just keep him on.”

And keep him she did.

Sherlock takes out her handkerchief that she had slipped into his pocket when she was whispering in his ear, embroidered with her initials and the outline of her lipstick. A color that was almost as bold as she was. He held it up to his nose and, sure enough, it was the scent of sugar and spice.

[songandashadow]

LARRY - CHRISTMAS FIC REC

hey guys! kinda late, but here are some christmas-themed-fics for you to read and enjoy. Please do leave kudos on these works, they’re pretty great. As always, please read the tags and stay safe. :D

Wise Men Say Only Fools Rush In. by hemakeshimstrongx | 9k

"Louis has only had his breath taken away a few times, none of them caused just by looking at another human being. But he's looking at Harry and he can barely breathe but he wouldn't have it any other way."

[or: Louis takes Harry home for Christmas, and realizes that he doesn't ever want to have another Christmas with anyone but Harry.]

once bitten and twice shy by pinkcords | 19k

This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?”

Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

Set Your Heart A-Whirl by QuickedWeen | 4k

Harry comes home for his family's big Christmas party and learns something surprising about his past.

Just Let Me Adore You by lovelarry10 | 26k

When Louis’ daughter presents him with a Christmas gift far beyond the price range of a four year old, he jumps to the worst of conclusions. He’s pleasantly surprised when he finds out how she isn’t as naughty as he thought she was, and who came to her rescue..

Under that Damn Mistletoe by hickeystyles | 7k

Louis' heart froze when he looked over and saw Liam whispering in Harry’s ear and nodding towards the mistletoe. Louis’ eyes widened comically before he dove out of sight so Harry couldn’t see him standing under the mistletoe like an idiot, or worse, like he was part of Liam’s plan to have Harry kiss him.

Or a Christmas Party AU where Louis is in love with his best friend Harry and everyone else is trying to force the two of them under the mistletoe together

The Thinker of Tender Thoughts by SpeakingWithInk  | 13k

Louis sits on his hands to stop them from shaking as he adds, ‘and I’m ace.’ If only he had glitter, he thinks. Coming out deserves a bit of sparkle.

You're Here, Where You Should Be by lululawrence | 5k

Harry gave her mother a wide, pleading grin and finally gave up on her hair. It had been only a marginally decent hair day anyway. No one here cared if it looked nice or not, so messy bun it would be.

Hands caught in making sure all her hair was up and not held so tight as to give her a headache, Harry (naturally) had her arms up when she froze in shock.

Louis Tomlinson was in her family room.

Or three years after having last seen her best friend, Louis shows up at the Christmas party Harry's family throws every year. Old feelings might not be as buried as Harry had thought.

Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou | 16k

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

Sympathy For The Devil by taggiecb | 5k

Louis keeps stealing some of Harry’s mail, which would be annoying for anyone, but it’s especially troubling when you consider that Harry is Santa Claus. Harry will have to go through hell to get Louis to stop. Literally.

Or the one with Santa Harry and Satan Louis and a series of misspelled letters to Santa.

doorbell rings, we're not listening by bottomlinsons | 2k

At approximately quarter past three in the morning, Harry is woken by a thump. Louis is gone, he notices first. Santa’s kidnapped him, he thinks next. (Or: A Christmas AU wherein Louis has bad habits and Harry loves him anyway.)

Show Me Baby That You Love Me So by pygmypuffle | 1k

Someone is leaving mistletoe all over their shared flat and Louis knows it's not him.

you've set my soul to dreaming by we_are_the_same | 9k

At first, when Harry wakes up on Christmas Morning with a warm body in his bed he wonders if he pulled someone last night. He’d met some friends at the pub, none of them really having anyone to spend Christmas Eve with, and he knows he might’ve had a few drinks to numb the loneliness for a while, but he didn’t think he got that drunk that he’d ended up pulling someone and forgetting all about it.

Or: Thirty year old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall.

I Have Loved You Since by DontLetHimGo |12k

He bites his lip. “What happens when you leave again?”

Harry smiles, albeit cautiously. “What was your yearbook quote again? ‘Live life for the moment, because everything else is uncertain’?”

Louis opens his mouth to retort something in return, but he closes it just as abruptly. Harry is trying to go against Louis by using Louis’ own words, and Louis’ never been one to argue with himself.

“Okay…” he starts slowly. “What’s the plan, Batman?”

An AU where Harry and Louis split up three years ago due to long distance and Louis’ twenty-seventh birthday is coming up.

[squirrelly831]

Proposal [Mark and Jaebum]

Remember how it was noted that Jaebum almost lost Yuna? Well this was one of the two times. The first was when she wouldn't even give him a chance to date her. This includes some angst, but not enough to have a trigger (: just a good old punch in the face (don't really punch your friend in the face--unless they deserve it) (:

xoxo

Mark

Christmas was Marcie’s and Mark’s favorite time of year. Not only was it near their anniversary since they began to date, but it was a time they both got to see their families for a big reunion. Christmas in LA was always fun for them as their families would spend the day together as a happy family for the past four years. However, this year, the families spent Christmas in snowy Colorado at Marcie’s and Mark’s vacation home. To Mark and Marcie, family was important which was why they were so important with their next step.

Mark had planned proposing to Marcie for the past six months with the help of their parents. Marcie was on an expedition in the United Kingdom and was due to conclude it a week before Christmas. The distance was what made Mark more sure of proposing. Being away from Marcie was normal in their relationship due to their jobs, but he hated being home alone. Mark also feared that one day, Marcie may realize how much better she was without him and leave him.

Marcie was getting out of the airport with her cart of luggage from her several month long trip. She tucked herself deeper into her winter coat as she looked for her family. Her body was sore from all the bending and digging, but it gave her a sense of satisfaction as they may have discovered more history about Stonehenge.

“Ciecie!”

Her head whipped around to see Mark with a giant poster with her parents and his. Forgetting her bags, she ran up to Mark and threw her arms around Mark’s neck. Her father retrieved her bags as Mark held her tightly in his arms taking in her scent. Marcie loved the adventure her work gave her, but she loved her home with Mark so much more. “I love you” she whispered in the crook of his neck.

“I love you more” he kissed her head before she pulled back and he gave her a kiss on the lips.

The family spent the week before Christmas catching up with Mark and Marcie as well as McKenzie and Changkyun who had stopped in to visit and announce their wedding plans for the following year. Marcie was asked to be McKenzie’s maid of honor which Marcie immediately accepted while Changkyun asked Mark to be one of his best men which he readily agreed. Due to the wedding announcement, Mark debated on proposing after their news, but with a push from both their parents and McKenzie’s not so subtle threat, he pushed forward.

Christmas Eve, the families attended church so that Christmas Day, they could spend it together. Everyone was opening presents dressed casually minus Mark and Marcie who had plans afterwards to go celebrate their anniversary. Done with the presents, the parents cleaned up the wrapping paper and subtly moved as McKenzie grabbed her phone and hit record. Mark and Marcie were the only ones by the Christmas tree and Mark couldn’t help the smile that grazed his lips.

Marcie stood to move, but he caught her hand stopping her as he reached for the final present, “This one is for you from me.” A blush crossed his face as Marcie took the small bag.

Cooly she pulled out the gift paper and found a jewelry box. She smiled expecting another ring or earring to add to the collection Mark had already given her. However, when she flipped open the box, she let out a gasp before looking at Mark who was kneeling before her.

Mark cleared his throat as he felt nervous. “I found the reason for my smile, the day I met you. You complete me, make me, and fulfil me. So will you marry me, Marcie Delilah Addington?”

Marcie’s shaky hand was over her mouth as tears fell down her face. Words would not form and she nodded her head. Mark stood up and took the ring out the box and placed it on Marcie’s finger as the family cheered. He wiped her face of the fallen tears before he kissed her.

Jaebum

To say Jaebum took Yuna for granted was an understatement. It’s not that he meant it on purpose, but he was so used to her being there by his side. At least she had been until she walked out the door of their shared apartment with a small bag of clothes. The slamming of the door was the only noise that was made. Jaebum sat on the couch unmoved from his position. The emotions in him swirled, anger, sadness, betrayal, but most importantly emptiness. Yuna walked out on him. The woman he promised his life to stabbed him in the back-- and it was all his fault.

Yuna wiped a tear off her cheek as she tried to maintain her calm exterior. She was broken inside, but as she walked down the hall past the neighbors she sure heard their shouting match--she held her head up high. She wouldn’t cry. Not there where people would judge her. Where people would assume he left her. Paparazzi would eat up that story and his fans would believe it as they have always hated her. The elevator opened and shut once she was inside. When she was finally alone, her tears spilled and she let out a sob down ten floors of their apartment complex. Her heart felt like it was being ripped apart as she descended down to the main lobby. When she was free from the elevator, she fled no longer caring for the stares of others as she raced out to her car.

A week of silence from Jaebum is what led the others to investigate starting at his apartment. Mark punched in the code to the apartment and opened the door to darkness. The guys rushed inside and saw Jaebum on the couch fast asleep with his phone clutched in his hand. “Jae?” Mark approached him and gave him a shake.

Jaebum shot up, “Yuna!” He exclaimed but his sadness returned when he saw the guys, “It’s just you guys.”

“Just us?” Jinyoung’s eyebrow rose, “You haven’t answered our texts in over a week and that’s your response to us?”

Jaebum rubbed his eyes, “That’s not what I meant… I just--I expected Yuna to come home and she hasn’t.” The men went silent and tension rose. “She left me” Jaebum explained, causing them to exhale as they had feared something had happened to her.

“Why? Out of all of us, we wouldn’t have expected you two to break up?”

Jaebum felt a wave of guilt, “It’s my fault… I told her I didn’t need a paper to tell me we were in love--”

“Oh no you didn’t” the guys groaned their complaints. “Why would you tell her that? She’s been waiting to be your wife since well forever!” Bambam huffed.

“I know, I didn’t think of that when I said it. Of course, I wanna marry her, but we’re so young…”

“Have you even proposed to her?” Mark countered and Jaebum fell silent. A deafening answer to them and they shook their heads. “You haven’t even bothered to make your relationship serious, dude. No wonder she left.”

Jaebum jumped from the couch and caught Mark by his collar, “I AM SERIOUS ABOUT HER!”

Mark swatted his hands off him as his anger grew, “Really? Where? Fuck, Jaebum we’re all engaged or married and you’re still fucking dating.”

“I know that. I was just waiting for the right time to propose…”

Mark gestured around the dark room, “I say the perfect time has sailed. She’s gone, Jaebum. And instead of going after her, you let her walk out!”

“I KNOW--”

Mark swung at Jaebum, punching him in the jaw. The others reacted as BamBam and Yugyeom grabbed Mark from swinging again while Youngjae and Jackson rushed to Jaebum’s side and Jinyoung stood between them. “Stop moping around and fucking do something.” Mark easily shoved Bambam and Yugyeom off him and he turned to leave. “Get your head out your ass. You aren’t the only one remotely suffering.”

Mark left, leaving the others and Jaebum alone. Jaebum’s hand cradled his jaw as his other hand clenched, “I know he’s right.. I just don’t know what to do.”

“I think you do know what to do, hyung,” Yugyeom replied. And the truth was Jaebum did know but was terrified.

Another week had gone by before Yuna heard any word from Jaebum asking to meet him in their favorite spot--the hill that had a view of the sky. At first, Yuna was going to chuck the letter and tell him to go to hell, but she missed him. Maybe she had over reacted that they were still just boyfriend and girlfriend. Yes, she wanted to be his wife. She loved him so of course she wanted to marry him. She reluctantly gathered herself and got her makeup on before she headed out to the meeting place.

Jaebum checked his watch again for the hundredth time as he moved the bundle of pink roses in his hand. A throat cleared and his head shot up to see Yuna in one of her favorite sweaters and skirts. He had a chance to make up with her! Had this been a breakup, Yuna would have gone a full 9 yards to show what he was losing--something she had done with men who never had the fortunate chance to be with her. The words he had practiced for over a week were gone as he stared at his girlfriend.

“Well? I didn’t come here to be stared at” Yuna scowled. “I was going to meet up with the real estate agent” she lied. She saw the flicker of hurt in Jaebum’s eyes and she began to feel guilt build, but she shook it off. We’re not staying with him if he won’t look to a future with us, she coached herself as she crossed her arms.

Jaebum bit his lower lip as he held out the flowers, “I just wanted to talk to you…” Yuna took the roses and pressed them to her. “You were right.”

“About?”

“Everything. How I was selfish about not wanting to get married and how I only thought of myself.” His hands felt clammy as he tried to speak. “You chased after me for so long and compared to that, the amount of chasing I’ve done has been nothing. But I love you, you have to know tha--”

Yuna pushed her hair off her shoulder, “It’s not enough.”

Jaebum’s shoulders slumped, “I know... “

“You can love me now and eventually find another woman who you love more. Someone you’d want to start a family with. I could be too annoying to be a wife to you…”

Jaebum’s eyes met her in a panic, “I was a kid when I said that. I never--” No, back then he meant it.

Yuna took a seat on the bench as Jaebum watched her, “It’s stupid. We were kids, but to have the guy you were obsessed with at one point to say that to you, even as a kid, is a hit to your ego. Who’s to say you wouldn’t feel that way again?” Yuna sighed. “Maybe we should just call it quits? With GOT7 and your work, doing this” she swung her finger between the two of them “is just going to make your work so much harder.”

She gave him one of her fake smiles and Jaebum wanted to scream. He saw the pain he brought her, the uncertainty she had due to him unable to make them official. Jaebum knew this was more than something he said as a child. This was her love language, she needed action. Words only meant so much to her compared to actions and Jaebum failed. “Don’t you see, you leaving me will make my life harder” he shook his head, “I wouldn’t be able to function without you.” Yuna sighed as she went to stand, but Jaebum placed his hand on her shoulder as he knelt in front of her. “I know I suck sometimes. I don’t show you that you’re the only one for me, but you have to believe me when I say that. You’re as important to me as the boys if not more.” He pulled out a ring box from his pockets and opened it. Yuna’s eyes widened as a gasp escaped her lips. “And I know this is a pretty shitty way to propose, but I had to show you that you are the only one I want. Mook Yuna, will you marry me?”

Yuna’s eyes watered as she looked from Jaebum to the ring. “Idiot…” Jaebum chuckled as he took out the ring and placed it on her finger. “You’re such an idiot.”

Jaebum pulled her into his arms as she cried. Her fist hit him in the chest a couple of times before it stilled and her left hand wrapped around his neck. “I still need an answer.”

“You wanna die? You put me through all this stress and you want an answer?” She pulled back with anger in her eyes. “I should kill you! I’ve lost years off my life because of you. You sho--”

“Oh shut up” Jaebum rolled his eyes playfully as he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers to silence her complaints. He could have sworn she cursed him under her breath, but when she kissed him back he knew he got the answer he needed.

Part II || Part III

Credit to gif owners

Written & revamped by Squirrelly831

♕ REQUEST

☮ GOT7 MASTERLIST

∞ ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded: Chapter Six; Spring Watch.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie:

A hard man is good to find. [Mae West]

--

Jamie woke with a start, the alarm blaring in the background.

The dream had been intense and had left him panting, a sheen of sweat on his skin as he pushed the duvet aside and stood. As always it was light outside, the sunrise half blinding him as the blasts of orange and red permeated the old curtains. Washing the night from his skin, he plunged himself beneath the pounding rivulets of water coming from his power shower, his body temperature receding slightly as the morning wore on.

Fortunately Claire wouldn’t be awake yet and he could slip from the house almost unnoticed. He needed to get a good day of work done, and to forget the memory of his dream before he faced her again. The mere thought brought colour to his cheeks, the heat in his belly reminding him of how incredibly realistic it had been.

Delicate pink skin appeared without his permission and once more he could feel the remnants of it haunting him as he slid his wellies on and closed the door softly behind him. Working in a daze, he prepared his cows for milking, the heat of the morning fading slightly as the clouds rolled in. The animals barely paid him any mind, going about their own business as he fed, watered and tended to them.

She hadn’t snuck into his bed, as she had in his dreams, but she had infiltrated his thoughts and no matter how hard he tried, sporadic jolts of her came unbidden throughout the day as he worked.

She’s married, he told himself, although the argument felt pretty weak in his own mind. In the abstract she was, he could tell that she still thought herself that way despite starting her new life. Without knowing it, she often rubbed her wedding ring finger - though the ring had long since been removed. It was obvious she was struggling with the transition and who could blame her, it had only been a couple of weeks. She was still hesitating on her name whenever he spoke it out loud to her, the subtle twitch betraying her.

But she was beginning to thaw, the shocked reaction he received when he spoke to her growing less and less as time went on (which, secretly, made him smile).

The baby lambs were out in force as he pulled the sandwich from his rucksack - one Claire had made him the night before. He smiled to himself as he perched on the fence, watching his first time mums as they paraded their babies around the perimeter of the field. Food somehow tasted better when someone else had made it for him, the slight differences in style allowing him a great enough change in routine to be noticeable.

She, it seemed, had a penchant for adding multiple salad products on her ham sandwich. Whereas Jamie was always in a rush at 4am, trying to collect his thermos as well as various food items to keep him going for the day, usually he would just throw slices of meat on top of bread without much thought. Lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber and *butter*, however, made all the difference. He even had potato salad on the side and a bag of what looked like homemade crisps.

Before Claire had arrived, John had given Jamie a very brief update as to her situation. Knowing a limited amount, he gauged that the difficulties she’d encountered recently hadn’t really set in yet and, instead, she was going through some sort of nesting, using her time at Lallybroch to cook and clean, ensuring that her mind is actively kept away from thinking about much at all.

His mind needed something similar as the image of her pottering about in his kitchen whilst he was away brought to the fore those visions that had him startled awake this morning before his alarm had even a chance to ring and he shook the picture of her bare skin from his thoughts, turning back to his task list.

The orphaned lambs were thriving now. Most had been ‘adopted’ by other nursing mothers but he still had two rogue ewes who were waiting for collection - Rupert, his nearest (mostly by proximity but also by friendship) neighbour had offered to take them for him but had yet been unable to drive over to collect them. In lieu of this, Jamie had been spending time hand feeding them every day though he worried each time he left them that he might return to something unmentionable.

Luckily, they’d survived another night in the small outhouse and he crawled in between them, the straw poking and prodding him as he settled with the warm milk bottle. The first, the largest of the two, squirmed in excitement, rushing to plonk herself by his side and suckle noisily at the teet.

“Easy now, lass, there’s enough for the both of you.” He soothed, watching as she butted the bottle, falling to her knees as she fed. Sheep were notoriously terrible pets, losing their fear of humans when in contact for too long and he had worried this close contact wouldn’t be good for the ewes, but watching the smaller of the pair sit helplessly in the corner made him think of Claire.

An idea came to him all of a sudden as he moved towards the lone female. He could, if he wanted, take the lamb home that evening and leave her in Claire’s care. Not only would it give the poor wee thing a greater chance, it might give her something else to turn her attention to in the day. There was a large chance he’d lose this one if he didn’t do something drastic.

-- --- --

An odd feeling settled in her stomach from the moment she woke up. Though she couldn’t put her finger on what the issue was, she felt a strange atmosphere hovering around her. Her skin prickled as she got out of the shower and she immediately felt as though there was something she should be remembering but couldn’t quite hold onto the memory.

She’d heard Jamie leave this morning, which was odd in itself. Usually she was fast asleep at dawn, not waking until much later when the house was quiet and she was alone. But she’d been woken this morning by some forgotten thought or dream that she couldn’t picture from the second she’d opened her eyes.

After barely speaking for two weeks, the weekend had been a welcome change.

Conversation had not been forced or odd, Jamie had allowed her time for quiet reflection and had seemed really quite pleased with her suggestions for the upcycling of his old furniture.

She felt useful, finally. A feeling she hadn’t had in some time.

Putting herself to work, she opted for cleaning downstairs for the best part of the morning. There was still a lot of dust residue from the sanding epic they’d had on Saturday, even spending most of Sunday dusting and hoovering hadn’t removed it all, so she pulled the dyson from under the stairs and tried to be as thorough as she could be.

Like cooking, she had never considered herself to be fluent in the art of housewifery. Before...when she had been able, her time had been dedicated to studying. There had been a cleaner for such tasks and, even afterwards, she hadn’t *needed* to be useful in that way. Here, though, there was nobody else to clean, do the dishes or cook and she found that losing herself to each task kept her mind (and body) active.

Sitting with the remnants of her crisps, she decided that was the dish she’d been most proud of since her introduction to the kitchen. She found herself thinking of Jamie and hoped that he was enjoying them too.

Their food deliveries now consisted of a greater variety of produce and she’d been able to add some colour to his lunch - which she had been making every evening and putting into the fridge for him to take when he left in the mornings.

She felt pleased as well as shocked at how easily she had moulded to fit her new life here.

Happy with her efforts, she turned her attention to the bookshelves in the back living room. There were titles dating back hundreds of years. Thick leather covers with yellowed pages sat proudly amongst the newer softback novels. She could tell which books had been read just by glancing at the spines, though there had been fingerprints in the thin layer of dust that had been there only hours before.

They were categorised, it seemed, by the surname of the author, carefully and methodically organised so that each time a new title had been purchased, it had been added in the right spot though there wasn’t room for many more.

His taste was eclectic, from non-fiction books on farming, agriculture, holistic medicines and horticulture to the classics (neatly bound with multiple editions ordered together, oldest first) including Jane Austin, Victor Hugo, Descartes, Melville and Hemingway. Jumbled in were some biographies but she’d assumed those belonged to either his parents or sister as none had been touched for some time.

Her fingers ran over the spines, stopping to hover over the drawing and painting books she’d first read when learning to doodle on the post-it notes in the first few weeks. She didn’t stop until she reached a relatively new title that she hadn’t noticed before. There was ruffling on the edge, a clear sign of frequent use, and some damage to the corners. Pulling it from the shelves, she settled into the comfy armchair, her cup of tea now cool enough to drink, and began to read.

It was modern, eloquently written with intricate plot weaving from the moment she turned the first page. The front cover clearly denoted that of a romance but there was intrigue and art as well as carefully homegrown characters. Before she’d had time to digest the prose, the front door opened and closed and she blinked. The clock on the desk ticked loudly and she noticed that hours had passed without her knowing.

Placing the book back on the shelf, she decided to leave it where it was for the time being and come back for it before bed. Though the visuals she’d imagined for herself stayed with her as she stretched and went in search of Jamie.

A loud noise caught her attention and she burst out laughing as she walked into the kitchen to find him wrestling with a small lamb.

“A new friend?” She said, her shock fading quickly.

“Ah; lass, I need ye!” His words were breathless, his cheeks a vibrant pink from the exertion of keeping the lamb from darting off and wrecking the joint. “I have a challenge for you, if you’re up for it!?”

[trilliastra]

the adventures of detective wei wuxian and his husband

[Established relationship. POV outsider for the most part.]

-

1.

Jiang Cheng will never get used to seeing Lan Wangji in distress. Instead of his usual stoic expression, the man looks almost in pain himself, holding Wei Wuxian's hand tightly.

“He's an idiot.” Jiang Cheng comments, trying to hide his own worry. “He ran into the building like he's the fucking Superman.” And he saved a kid, Jiang Cheng thinks.

Lan Wangji barely looks up, already used to Jiang Cheng's own way of coping with Wei Wuxian's dangerous lifestyle. They've had many fights before as Lan Wangji often misunderstood brotherly banter with insulting.

Jiang Cheng doesn't know exactly what happened, but one day they met for dinner and Lan Wangji stopped glaring at him every time he nagged at Wei Wuxian, so he guesses they are fine now. Well, as fine as they can ever be.

“Hmn.” The other man assents, he brushes a hand over Wei Wuxian's cheek softly. “I'll lock him in the basement.” He says.

Jiang Cheng lets out a snort, surprised at Lan Wangji's attempt at a joke. “He'd find a way out.”

“Hmn.” They share a look of understanding. This is who Wei Wuxian is: impulsive, selfless, good.

“He's gonna be fine.” Jiang Cheng whispers, reaching out to take Wei Wuxian's other hand.

“Yes.” Lan Wangji takes a deep breath, rests his head against Wei Wuxian's chest. Jiang Cheng pretends not to see the tears. “He will.”

–

2.

Yang Hao rolls his eyes as Wei Wuxian laughs loudly. It should take more than just a quick brain and guts to become a detective.

It's ten past two, he hasn't slept in two days and his stomach is starting to hurt. Things would move much faster if only Wei Wuxian could get to the fucking point.

“And that's how we found they run an underground casino.” He keeps rambling, all exaggerated gestures and a lot of confidence. Yang Hao sighs – some people are so damn lucky to just stumble upon the right person at the right time.

To his left Li Qin is sighing dreamily, as Wei Wuxian keeps talking about how he is this close to solving the case if only he could have another day or two. He will get those days, Yang Hao is sure, because their boss loves him.

Thirty minutes later – or maybe two hours, he lost track of time by the time Wei Wuxian started on his brilliant plan to catch their guy – they are finally free to eat their lunch and Yang Hao all but runs away from the conference room before Wei Wuxian can catch up with him. The guy is adamant they must become friends, Yang Hao has no idea how Wei Wuxian hasn't noticed that he'd rather strangle himself before that happens.

He almost made it to his desk before his name is being called by that annoyingly happy voice. “Yang Hao!” He tries not to groan. “I forgot my lunch, do you want to go to granny’s restaurant at the corner together?” Wei Wuxian smiles, placing his hand on Yang Hao's shoulder.

“I have a date.” He lies, desperate to get the fuck away from him.

“Oh.” Wei Wuxian's smile falters for a moment, but he's soon back to his cheerful self. “That's great, man!” He pulls his hand back before shaking it in front of Yang Hao's face, the wedding ring shining in the light. “I wish I could say the same.” Wei Wuxian sighs, almost sad.

Yang Hao turns around to hide his grimace. Wei Wuxian talks, a lot, it's no secret that he's married, and happily so. It's sickening how much he talks about his partner. Yang Hao has never met her in person, but he imagines a saint of a woman to put up with all – that.

Or maybe she's just as bad as him. Yang Hao shudders.

“That's too bad.” He answers when he realizes Wei Wuxian is waiting for him to say something. “Next time, then?” He asks, just to be polite.

Wei Wuxian's smile grows and he is about to reply when Li Qin call his name. “Senior Wei! There's someone here to see you.” She gestures at a man dressed in a suit, long hair tied up. He's vaguely familiar and Yang Hao frowns, hoping this isn't related to their case. He can't put up with Wei Wuxian for another hour, especially without food.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian calls, surprised. He all but runs towards the man and when they are close enough he leans in and – kisses him. What.

“You forgot your lunch.” He can hear the other man say, holding Wei Wuxian's waist. “We are going out.” He states and Wei Wuxian all but melts against him.

Yang Hao blinks, trying to process all the information. So Wei Wuxian's partner isn't a woman. And he is a Lan. As in the Lan Clan. As in Lan Wangji, the cold, intimidating, lawyer.

“Oh, Lan Zhan.” He looks up, still confused, as Wei Wuxian praises his husband. “You're too good to me.” His voice is so saccharine, Yang Hao wants to jump off the window, but Lan Wangji only smiles, albeit shyly, and takes Wei Wuxian's hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Aren't they the cutest?” Li Qin asks, happily.

Yang Hao groans and vows to apply for a transfer as soon as he can.

–

3.

“I'll call you later, mom.” Mei Xiang stops just outside the building, puts her phone back in her purse and reaches out for the compact mirror. She checks her lipstick again and takes a deep, nervous breath. I can do it, she tells herself.

She's been preparing for this since before she got into university. She is smart, qualified, and bold, just the perfect combination for a great lawyer. She can do it.

The Lan Clan is a legend and being employed at Cloud Recesses is a dream come true. She doesn't have an office and for now she's just another assistant, but Mei Xiang knows it's just a matter of time. She's ready to work her way up. Sleepless nights? She got that covered in university. Food? Cereal bars and dried fruits are her best friends.

Mei Xiang introduces herself to her colleagues with a smile and proceeds to get acquainted with her small desk in the corner of the large room. They are all working on some big case already and her direct supervisor says they will assign her a task as soon as Lan Xichen arrives.

Her desk is close to Lan Wangji's office, she notices. The open door allows her to watch him working, scribbling furiously as he checks one book or the other, occasionally he looks up to discuss something with Luo Qingyang, one of the senior lawyers. Mei Xiang sighs, that is one handsome man.

She can see the shining ring on his left hand and shakes her head. She participated in many lectures given by either Lan Wangji or his brother, and she's always admired the way he carried himself, his unwavering belief on doing what's right.

Mei Xiang smiles sweetly when he looks up and notices her watching him. She isn't one to defend adultery, but she knows how these things work for the traditional families – marriage of convenience is still common and she doubts Lan Wangji would ever go against his family on this matter.

Mei Xiang runs a hand through her hair, watching Lan Wangji look through his books. Her parents met through work, love can happen anytime, anywhere. If it happens it happens, she thinks, delighted, when he looks up again.

“Hello, Senior Wei.” Mei Xiang hears Luo Qingyang say as she leaves Lan Wangji's office. A man dressed in casual jeans and combat boots reaches out for her hand with a smile.

“Mianmian, you look absolutely dashing. How is your baby?” He asks, enthusiastic.

Mei Xiang frowns. She doesn't recognize him, and she thought she knew everyone who worked at Cloud Recesses – she made a very thorough research.

She watches as Luo Qingyang shows him something on her phone, probably a picture of her baby, and the man coos, always smiling, as he grabs his own phone and hands it to her.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji calls, coming out of his office.

“Lan Zhan!” The man practically yells, which makes Mei Xiang startle, no one in the room looks up and she wonders if this is such an usual occurrence that they just don’t care anymore. “I was showing her that video of Sizhui playing with the rabbits!” He turns to Luo Qingyang. “Isn't he the cutest?”

“Yes,” she laughs, “after my little Mianmian.” She adds, making the other man laugh.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji stresses, holding out his hand.

“I'm coming, I'm coming.” The man laughs, waving goodbye at Luo Qingyang and taking Lan Wangji's hand as they walk together into the office. “I missed you, too.” She hears him say, leaning in to kiss Lan Wangji passionately before the doors are even fully closed.

“Damn,” she whispers, impressed.

Half an hour later, Lan Wangji's husband comes out of his office looking properly debauched, with the biggest smile she's ever seen. That doesn't look like a marriage out of convenience, so definitely, nothing is going to happen. Oh well, she thinks before straightening up her back and getting ready to conquer the world, his loss.

–

4.

After thirty years, she still loves the Monday morning rush. Since her daughter took over the kitchen, she started to love it even more.

Mei Hui loves talking to them and listening to their stories, serving good food that makes them forget about their problems for a few minutes. Over the years, she's had many regular customers, and one of her favorites is Wei Wuxian.

He's a whirlwind, loud and dangerous, but smart and genuinely kind. She's granny to him and her heart fills with joy every time he walks through the door.

He loves her lotus root soup – she long stopped taking offense when he says his sister's is better, she understands the power of love that makes any food taste like heaven – especially when a case has gone wrong. Mei Hui has spent many nights by his side as he eats the soup and cries.

Pork ribs are reserved for the amazing days – his words, not hers. Almost eight years ago, he ordered it for the first time, his grin so wide it took her breath away. It was also the first time she heard Lan Wangji's name.

Oh, those boys. She likes to think her late husband used to look at her like Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji look at each other.

She was invited to their wedding but couldn't make it due to an appendicitis – her health isn't what it used to be fifteen years ago – but Wei Wuxian showed her the pictures the next week, patting her back gently as she sniffed, deeply touched by his consideration.

But her favorite customer of all has to be the little boy. Lan Sizhui, Lan Yuan, oh, how she adores him. Mei Hui looks at the flowers and smiles as she reads the card again. It’s impossible not to love him.

Happy birthday, granny, it says, and she has to sit down to try and contain her glee. “Dad helped me write it.” Lan Sizhui had explained, earlier this morning, as he hugged her leg. Wei Wuxian was laughing, holding Lan Wangji's hand as they waited for their son. She asked if the boy wasn't going to be late for school and Wei Wuxian laughed, amused, as Lan Wangji frowned for a moment, but answered that it was fine, it was for a good cause. Oh, those boys.

Mei Hui loves Monday mornings, even more when she gets to see her favorite boys smiling, and so – so happy. As they should be.

–

5.

He is bleeding. Fuck, Lan Wangji is bleeding.

Su She watches Lan Xichen hold his suit jacket over his brother's wound and tries not to panic. This wasn't part of the plan, that – Xue Yang wasn't even supposed to have a gun! And that good-for-nothing just left in the middle of the chaos without looking back.

Xue Yang was supposed to take the papers while Su She distracted Lan Wangji, no one would get hurt, much less shot. Not that Lan Wangji didn't deserve it, the arrogant bastard, but Su She doesn't want to go to jail when he's this close to getting rich. Lan Wangji better live to watch Su She ruin everything that he owns.

“Wangji.” He hears Lan Xichen yell, shaking his brother to keep him awake. He hears someone saying help is coming and someone else says they called Lan Wangji’s husband.

Su She almost rolls his eyes as the other employees start running around like headless chickens, crying and praying for Lan Wangji's recover. Half of them hate the man just as much as Su She and the other half just want him to live so they can continue to make googly eyes at him. Pathetic.

“Lan Zhan!”

Great, this time Su She does roll his eyes as Wei Wuxian yells desperately, kneeling in front of his husband and taking his hand.

“Lan Zhan, please don't leave me.” He cries.

They are so ridiculous, flaunting their superior love story in front of everyone's faces. Every time they are around each other, it's like watching a fucking drama – nothing is ever going to be more staged than this. Well, he thinks, perhaps Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli's wedding, but Su She couldn't care less about them.

“Never –” Lan Wangji coughs just as the paramedics arrive. It takes Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng – and when did that other fucker get here – to separate Wei Wuxian from his husband.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian's screams get more and more desperate and Su She decides it's time to leave. Any more of this disgusting shit and he's going to throw up.

–

He should've known Xue Yang was going to open his giant mouth eventually. The guy has always been a coward.

“ – you have the right to remain silent,” Wei Wuxian recites as two police officers drag Su She towards the car.

“He should've died.” He says, looking into the other man's eyes. When Wei Wuxian attacks him Su She only laughs.

–

+ 1

“It's snowing!” They get woken up by Lan Yuan jumping on their bed, laughing and screaming in delight. Lan Wangji smiles as he hears Wei Wuxian groan and burrow himself further under the covers. “Dad! Papa!”

“Yes.” Lan Wangji answers, sitting up and pulling Lan Yuan onto his lap. “Have you brushed your teeth?”

“Yes!” He quickly answers, eyes shining with glee. “And I dressed myself, see?” He opens his arms and kicks his legs in the air. He's wearing mismatched socks, Lan Wangji notices, smiling.

“So you did.” He praises, running a hand through the boy's hair. “We can play in the snow after breakfast.”

“Noooo.” Wei Wuxian whines. He got home late last night, again. “It's Saturday, we should stay in bed all day.”

Lan Yuan ignores him, turning to Lan Wangji again. “Can we make cookies too?”

“Sure.” He answers easily, dropping Lan Yuan on Wei Wuxian's back. His husband groans and their son laughs when he gets pulled into a hug.

“And hot chocolate?” Lan Yuan asks.

“One or the other.” Lan Wangji replies, heading to the bathroom.

“Cookies!” He hears his son reply in between laughter.

“Chocolate chip!” Wei Wuxian laughs with him.

By the time he comes out of the bathroom both Wei Wuxian and Lan Yuan are asleep again, holding each other and snoring softly. Lan Wangji shakes his head, amused, and walks back to the bed. He throws an arm over them and smiles, they can stay in bed longer, it's Saturday after all.

[babbushka]

Good morning!! Omg please use “You’re so fucking hot when your mad” from the smut prompts for Flip! Thank you!!! 💗

(2.5k [this one got out of hand sorry lol] double penetration, spit as lube/come as lube, multiple orgasms)

He kicks the door a little too harsh, when he comes home. He tries, you know, tries. He tries not to bring home the bullshit from work, tries to leave it all at the station. He loves his job but fuck they really don’t make it easy sometimes, they don’t make it easy to feel like he’s doing something good.

But he tries, because he’s home, and at home is all he ever wants to be, with you is all he ever needs. So he takes a deep breath, puts his keys in the little dish by the door, shrugs out of his sherpa coat. Not before taking out a pack of camels, sticking one between his teeth and lighting it, but still. He’s better now, in a better mood, even if he kicks the door a little too harsh.

“Honey? I’m home.” He calls out as is his tradition.

It started as a funny little howdy-doody thing, he doesn’t remember when exactly he said it first. But he said it, and it had made you smile, and you’re smiling now as you come into the foyer from wherever you had been waiting for him, and that’s what mattered.

“Phil!” You’re bright eyed for him even though it’s two in the morning. Standing in your pretty robe with your hair catching the low-light from the kitchen where if he looks he can see some dinner kept on the heater for him, dinner that smells so fucking delicious that he wants to cry. You can tell, and your smile softens as you open your arms for him with a gentle, “Hey.”

He steps out of his boots and sucks down some nicotine and tries not to run into your arms. He gets there, and you hold him, squeeze him real tight in those capable arms of yours, and he gets himself all angry again, all worked up, all pissed off.

Why should he have to spend hours cutting through red tape when it all leads to nowhere, when he could be sitting at home with you, with his wife, with his best friend? It doesn’t seem fair, and he’s angry about it, angry that they’re shelving the case. What a waste of time.

“Hey ketsl.” He sighs, holding you and letting himself be held, there in the foyer.

“Bad day?” You whisper, tucking your head under his chin. He’s the perfect height for it, and he kisses the top of your forehead enough that you’re huffing out a little laugh from the tickle of his goatee.

“Can you tell?” He asks, even though he knows it’s a dumb question – you’re a better detective than he is most days.

“I can always tell honey.” You pull your arms up around his neck, twirl some of his soft hair around your finger as you press yourself real close. “Want to talk to me about it?”

“Honestly? I want to fuck you about it.” He mutters, because the thought of you, the thought of your body so sweet and lush around him calms him down.

He realizes he’s got a death grip on you then, and you shimmy out of it ever so slightly, just enough to undo the sash of your robe, let it fall to the ground.

You’re naked, not a stitch of nothing on you except for a littering of bruises and marks he’d given you before he’d gone to work, and the blood rushes from his brain to his cock so fast it makes him dizzy.

You forget sometimes, that he was a military man. You forget until he’s picking you up and hoisting your body over his shoulder like some sack of potatoes, until he’s carrying you down to the fire in the living room and laying you down real easy. His hands are quick as the cigarette ash flicks into the rug, and your legs are already spreading for him.

“God fucking – dammit – fucking,” He curses as his zipper sticks, your hands coming to the rescue.

He kisses you, hard, bruising. He’s all tongue and teeth as he sucks on your lips, growing angrier and angrier by the minute. Why did he have to spend all that fucking time on the case when he could be here, be home, kissing you instead? You moan into his mouth just from that, from making out too rough by the fire – it feels like the most important thing he’s done all week, making you moan.

“I was hoping you’d come home soon, I was starting to get antsy without you.” You say as he attacks your neck with hickies and crooked crescents of his teeth.

“I thought about you all goddamned day, going blind over paperwork for no fuckin’ reason ketsl I thought of you, I wanted to be here.” He rushes out to say through grit teeth, jaw clenching so hard he’s afraid something might snap.

But then you’ve got all the buttons on his flannel undone, and he’s shrugging out of that too, yanking his undershirt over his head, and your hands are hot like the fireplace all over his skin, feeling him up, feeling his muscles.

He needs to move away just the barest hint to get his jeans and briefs off, but the second he does he wastes little time prying your legs open, dragging you the few inches closer to him, sinking his cock into your wanting pussy with no trouble at all.

“Fuck – fuck Flip,” You moan, “Hard, fuck me hard.”

And he does, oh he does. He corrals your legs around his hips, and you lock your ankles together so he can lean over you, cover your whole body with his, fuck you into the rug so bad you’ll burn about it later. He’ll rub you down with lotion and then fuck you again for it, you know he will, and it’s all worth it because his cock is huge and fills you so completely that it feels like there’s no air in your lungs, only him.

“Ketsl this pussy is the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.” He grunts, hard and fast and angry angry angry, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose onto your face.

You smile, before your mouth drops into a real pretty O because you’re gasping because he’s fucking your gspot hard.

He wants you to come as many times as he can, wants to feel it when your thighs quake around him, when your body squirms under him. He’s not letting you go until you’re nearly delirious from it, because that’s all he needs, that’s all he wants; to give you so much pleasure it makes up for him being gone eighteen hours today.

“Take me take what’s yours take what you want – oh!” You gasp, voice loud in the dark. You come, and he grins, kisses your cheeks all over for it, sweaty and sticky as you shake rattle roll under him. He’s not done with you, not by a longshot.

He squeezes his eyes shut and rams into you hard, pushes your body up up up the rug, fucks you fast, skin slapping on skin. Your arms and legs are wrapped around him like a vice, your pussy hot and tight on his cock as it takes the pounding, the curve of his cock stretching you in all the right ways.

“Say my name, I’m gonna get you coming again and when I do I want you to say my name, okay ketsl?” His voice is so deep, and he presses it into your skin, makes you cry, makes you shout even while you’re coming, eyes nearly crossed from the pleasure of it.

“Uh huh,” Your chest heaves while he rails you hard, his cock punching your guts and dragging out moan after moan with it, especially when he adds his thick fucking fingers that have you babbling, “Yeah, yesyesyes oh fuck Phil, please – oh! Oh fuck -- !”

He covers your mouth with his and swallows your screams as he grinds his dick into you hard, presses down on your clit harder with spit-slicked hands, and your legs fall from around his hips, feet kicking on the floor from how strong of an orgasm it is, so close after the first.

“So good to me honey-bunny, so fucking good, you’re the only damn thing I ever want, you know that, know how much you mean to me?” Flip praises you because it’s true, because you need to hear it, because he knows you like to hear it.

His hips don’t still, and now you’re openly crying, hiccupping out sobs of pleasure as he fucks you through your second orgasm real easy. He likes you like this, when you’ve got tremors all through your body, tremors that he put there.

“Yes! Oh yes, Flip, honey, yes!” Your back is arching nearly clean off the floor, your head tossing from side to side as your arms stretch out above your head, body bouncing on the rug from how hard he fucks you.

“Open your mouth for me baby.” He grabs your jaw to keep you still, and you do right away, lips parting and accepting whatever he gives you.

He shoves a couple fingers onto your tongue, two fingers that he rubs against the inside of your cheek, makes you suck on them. You grab at his wrist and hold it steady there as you make out with his hand, all while tears cling to your lashes and he thinks you’re the most beautiful fucking woman he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hhhh, I – I – ” You try and get something out but it doesn’t quite work, not really.

He kisses your cheek for the effort though, spit sticking to your smile line when you grin and lave your tongue over his wedding ring. He almost wants to come from that, but he doesn’t, not yet – he wants one more out of you before he’ll let himself come.

He pulls his fingers away from you and slows down enough to stop. He pulls out, making you whine about how you don’t want him to stop, until you’re gasping because he’s shoving those fingers into you, two up your pussy and his thumb on your clit, and then adding his cock back into the mix slowly.

“Oh my god – Philip I’m going to scream I’m – ” You gasp as he fucks you with his fingers inside you, massaging your gspot with his index finger.

“You can do it, you’re so good ketsl, baby you’re so good for me.” He grunts, groans and shakes and sweats for you.

It’s such a weird feeling, getting to feel his cock brushing against his knuckles as it plunges into your pussy. Your cunt takes him like a champ, like he knew it would, and you’re all but convulsing on the floor underneath him, sobbing out pleasured moans, chanting his name.

“Flip – Flip! Phil, honey! Phil I’m gonna – I’m oh fuck!” Your eyes are shut tight as your mouth drops open and you come for the third time, fueling his lust his love his worship of you.

You shake underneath him, riding out the shock of your orgasm, shouting sobbing coming coming coming so hard it almost hurts, your pussy so tight on his fingers and his cock that he’s almost afraid he won’t be able to pull out of you. But then you go limp, exhausted, totally spent for the time being, and he slips his fingers out easily, sucks them into his own mouth and cleans the taste of your come off.

He lets himself spill into you, and then promptly, his arms begin to shake enough that he knows he should lay down. He rolls himself onto his back and takes you with him, you go along easily, settle with your head on his chest as you drool and gasp little quiet moans around his cock.

He takes time to breathe, eyes closed. He reaches for the last few minutes of his cigarette he left abandoned in a little ashtray on the floor, and the nicotine soothes his nerves.

So do you, when you nuzzle your cheek against him. He pets your hair back, happy to be home, happy to be with you. He’s fully sated, and he feels a thousand times lighter than he did when he first came home, and it’s all because of you.

He smiles, a smile which only grows as you get a serious case of the giggles, burying your face into the hard line between his muscular pecs.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, voice husky and deep as your whole face lights up.

“Nothin’.” You lie, and he grins, pinches your nose and gives your face a little shake, you’re so beautiful, all the time. But especially blissed out like this.

“No, it isn’t nothing, I know you.” He tucks your hair behind your ear, caresses your cheek, giving your temple a playful poke, “How come you’re smilin’ so much baby what’s goin’ on in there?”

“Oh Flip,” You roll your eyes at yourself, almost embarrassed when you admit, “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

“You think so?” Flip raises a brow, even though he’s not surprised. He knew that you thought that, had learned it a long time ago.

“Mhm, something about it, that primal energy.” You waggle a brow of your own, walk two fingers up his chest before tapping the tip of his nose. “It’s incredibly becoming on you, detective.”

“That’s head detective, miss.” He snatches your wrist and kisses it around his cigarette and you only giggle some more.

“My most sincere apologies, sir.” You roll your eyes again playfully, reclaiming your hand and using it to help prop your head up on his chest.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and show me how sorry you really are?” He nods in the direction of the stairs and you groan, half excited at the thought of more sex, and half hating the idea of getting up.

“One condition,” You say, and Flip knows he’d give you anything you ever wanted, all you had to do was say the word, and so you do, but what leaves your lips only makes his heart so soft for you. “You tell me what’s on your mind and eat some dinner with me first.”

“Love you ketsl.” He says quietly, meaning every word of it a thousand times and then some.

“Love you too cowboy.” You press a kiss to a little mole on his neck that you love, before attempting very poorly to pull yourself up and away from him, and failing, the both of you laughing as you try to remember how your legs work.

He’s lucky to have someone that lets him get all his energy out, he knows.

But he’s even luckier to have someone that lets him get it out in a way that’s meaningful, too.

And dammit, he never hit the jackpot any bigger than with you.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Bleeding Hearts ~ JJK [Part 2] [Request]

↱↱↱Word Count: 1.5K

↱↱↱Genre: Angst, revenge?

↱↱↱Paring: Jungkook x Reader

↱↱↱A/n: Hope this is something what you were wanting, I didn’t want to add the smut in as I’m trying to limit my writing to just y/n x guy or with another inside I hope you understand

 Jungkook walked up the hallway towards the changing rooms of the church, he'd heard from Namjoon that that was where you were hiding out for the morning and he didn't blame you. Not wanting to see him or be near him was probably the best thing for you, Jungkook knew what he did to you was wrong but he still couldn't help the feelings he had for Anna.

"What are you doing?" Jimin's voice rang through the air and Jungkook turned to look at him and he was standing there in his suit, a white rose attached this his buttonhole, he looked great and he should do it was his wedding day. 

"I was just walking around." Jungkook lied knowing how close you and Jimin had gotten since the breakup even though that Jimin and Jungkook continued to work together for the sake of the band there was still some tension between them. Jimin would never forgive Jungkook for what he put you through and he wasn't about to let him undo the healing you'd been going through for the last two years since he broke your heart, or rather ripped it from your chest threw it onto the floor and stamped it into the ground as though it was nothing to him. 

"She doesn't want to see you Jungkook," Jimin said blankly, it was his wedding day and he didn't want anything to go wrong and if that meant being a little tougher on Jungkook than that was all it would take, 

"I just want to see if she's okay-"

"She's fine now go and stand with Taehyung outside like the usher boy you are." Jungkook was about to leave when the door he was standing in front of creaked open, there you were standing there in one of the most gorgeous dresses Jungkook had ever seen you in. It was a simple pale pink A-line V-neck dress which was Floor-Length with a front split showing off your legs. 

"Jimin I was- Oh." Your eyes locked on Jungkook and he stared at you biting down on his lip as he stared at you, you looked almost as good as you did on your wedding day. The day he married you and his world clicked into place but then he threw it all away, 

"I was just asking him to leave," Jimin said reading your face as you stared down at the floor, you'd mentioned not wanting to be sat anywhere near Jungkook not because you hated him but because if you saw him you knew your stomach would turn into the mess it was now. He could still give you those old butterflies despite everything he had done to you,

"Where's Anna?" You asked which surprised both of the boys Jungkook shook his head at you trying to think of something he could say, 

"We broke up," You nodded and looked up at Jimin who was staring at you wondering if he was okay to leave, he was supposed to be checking everything out, you nodded at him and he left you and Jungkook alone to talk. 

"Y/n I just wanted to say-"

"When did it start?" You questioned, it was something that had bugged you since you found out about them but you never wanted to know until then. You knew you would be able to handle it if he told you now, you were in a secure place in your mind,

"You want to know?" You nodded and moved into the changing room to allow him to come in with you, he sat down on the sofa and stared up at you getting ready to explain it. 

"It was two years into the marriage..."

Anna had gotten a job for him at the studio because she'd been desperate for work, you sent her to Jungkook knowing that he was looking for a receptionist to work for him and for the first year of her job it was great but as time went on she began to develop feelings for your husband. Anna had tried to keep them inside but it was hard whenever she saw him, seeing him every day and when he would come back to the studio with nothing but a sweaty tank top on it only made he feelings for him grow stronger until she couldn't think about it. The skirts began to get shorter, the shirts became more open to reveal her lace underwear until Jungkook began to notice and he began to engage with her more, both of them knew it was wrong but it was hard to resist the sexual tension between them until one day it erupted into them having sex over his desk. His wedding ring discarded in the drawer, your photo face down so they didn't have to look at you while they made love. 

After the first time, it got easier and easier for them to forget about you falling into their own world where the only people that mattered were him and Anna, not caring that they were ripping apart a marriage one day at a time.

"You took your ring off?" You asked thinking back to one day when he came home from work without it, saying he took it off for a dance routine but now it was clicking that'd he'd fucked her before coming home to you and acting as though he was fine. 

"Yeah..." Jungkook said slowly looking up at you, silent tears were rolling down your face. You'd been strong for so long that you didn't even notice you were crying,

"Why? Was I not good enough for you?" Your eyes locked from across the room and Jungkook felt his heart crush at the look on your face, you'd looked like you did the first time you found out about them being together.

"No, that wasn't it-"

"All I ever did was love you Jungkook." He felt a stab in his chest as he heard your voice crack at the words you were saying to him, 

"Did she love you better than I ever could?" You whispered sitting down on the sofa behind you and looking at the floor, you'd tried to be happy for him but it was hard knowing that while your world was falling apart he was building his back up. 

"We broke up...She was cheating on me with another married man." You tried not to laugh at the thought, she'd always been the type to fall for people she could never have,

"I'm sorry." You lied looking at him, he shook his head at you and stared into your eyes. 

"It's what I deserve,"

"No one deserves to be cheated on Kookie, not even you." You admitted which was the truth, no one needed to feel as though the rug was swiped out from underneath them and that their world was coming to a crashing halt. All of the trust they had for one person gone within a few seconds of finding out what they did.

"Y/N? Five minutes," The door was open and Jimin's wife to be was standing there in her dress, Jimin must of text her to tell her that you were with Jungkook and it was their way of checking up on you. 

"You've been crying!" She yelled rushing over and grabbing some tissues from the desk that was inside of the room, she began cleaning off your face and then looked over at Jungkook. 

"I'll be in my changing room when you're done," She kissed your cheek before leaving the room, you cleared your throat and looked around the room awkwardly trying to get out of this conversation quickly. 

"I guess I'll see you out there-" He grabbed your wrist to stop you from leaving and you stared down at his fingers around your skin, 

"Jungkook let me go." You said blankly with no emotions in your voice but he continued to hold you, dying to kiss you one last time or at least hold you. 

"No...What- What if we gave ti another shot?" You scoffed taking his hand off your wrist and rubbing where his hand had been it was like something had ignited the skin and it was on fire but not the usual fire you would feel right before sex. But as if someone was burning your skin a sign they weren't good for you, 

"No." Your back straightened and you took a stand for yourself not wanting to go into this conversation with him not here, not no and no ever. 

"There's nothing you can do that will make me come back Jungkook. We're over and we have been for some time, don't think for one second that because Anna walked away from you that I will come crawling back because I won't." You stared at him before leaving the room and leaving him standing there watching after you and he knew he'd lost you for good which was probably what he deserved for what he put you through.

Tagline: 

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