#i need to make. monies. but like after i get settled again i need to draw

[iamnmbr3]

If I may jump onto your recent ice cream question, what do you think these following characters’ ice cream orders are?

Lily, James, Sirius, Regulus, all of the Weasleys (or just the twins, Percy, and Ginny if that’s too much), Dumbledore, Narcissa and Lucius… and Voldemort? (or Tom Riddle if you think they might be different)

(Followup to this).

Lily: Strawberry-and-peanut-butter because I like the idea of this being another secret similarity between her and Harry that neither of them ever got to find out about.

James: Ice cream is for losers who don't have more fun entertainments like sadistically tormenting their classmates to amuse themselves with. Why bother getting ice cream when he can feast on Severus's tears instead? But if no classmates are available to victimize he'll settle for chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts (which seems strangely fitting for him and also makes the ice cream Hagrid buys Harry in book 1 a secret callback).

Sirius: He goes for firewhiskey & raisin when he's a child because it seems daring and kind of adult but discovers he genuinely likes it...and then it becomes a habit and he still likes it as an adult (for the little time that he actually gets to be an adult before getting chucked in prison). More often than not though he just ends up getting the same as James so he can share it with him when James inevitably wants to try some despite already having his own.

Regulus: Plain vanilla - but only a fancy expensive brand that probably nobody who isn't monied and pureblood has ever even heard of so it's not boring Sirius shut up.

Fred: Pistachio.

George: Chocolate. Sometimes after the war Mrs. Weasley forgets and gives him pistachio though and it hurts too much to say anything about it.

Percy: For a lot of years he pretends it's coconut because he thinks that sounds refined and unusual (and also probably bc he saw mr. Crouch eat some once at an event) but actually it's chocolate.

Voldemort: extra dark chocolate as dark as his soul. jk. Pretty sure post cauldron body Voldemort doesn't eat...or probably really have taste buds so he's gonna pass. And all the flavors taste the same to him anyway. A small price to pay for immortality.

Tom Riddle: Black pepper ice cream the one time he had it over Christmas at Hogwarts. But really when it comes to food he's not picky. Just having anything to eat at all is a luxury - doubly so if it's good quality food and not plain gruel or something that used to be halfway decent but has since gone moldy. Given his experiences with famine he's very much of the 'food is fuel' mindset and if he could do something to ensure he needed to eat again (and thus never needed to fear going hungry) he would do it in a heartbreak. But still, he must admit that black pepper ice was surprisingly nice. Alphard's probably the only one who notices tho.

Ginny: Also black pepper ice cream. She's pretty sure it used to be chocolate before second year but she doesn't really want to think about the implications of that so she convinces herself either she misremembers or her tastes just changed. It doesn't really matter either way though, as she usually just orders strawberry and peanut butter since she knows that's Harry's favorite and she wants them to have tastes in common.

Narcissa: Dark chocolate.

Lucius: He doesn't actually have a sweet tooth but if you asked him he'd pick dark chocolate because Narcissa probably knows what she's talking about.

Dumbledore: Waitrose duchy organic lemon curd ice cream. Some find this quirky and entertaining while others are horrified or just plain confused. He finds all the reactions equally entertaining. Also he absolutely shows up to buy it in full wizard garb.

[blessed444]

3/28/24: this has been a challenging and transformative year for me and the year just started.

An estranged family member on my mother's side decided to help us move away and out of our toxic living situation. I hadn't spoken to her since she betrayed my trust 4 years ago when she promised to help me through college and pulled out last minute.

She made it clear that she wouldn't abandon my family or I this time and I wanted to trust her this time. She was actually paying for my tuition this time, she was helping us out with basic necessities, and encouraging my mother by telling her that she was doing a good job (which she needed). Everything was going great until it came time to look for a place to move. She sent us homes available for rent that we could afford within our financial situation and asked us to choose but we didn't have much time to decide before she calls my mom te let her know that we have a new place and we can move in within the coming week and it was an expensive 3 bedroom apartment...not what we were looking for but beggers can't be choosers so we tried to look on the bright side, especially since she added that'll she cover the first 2 months of rent and all we have to focus on is saving money.

The day we moved in was hectic. My brother was at work so he wasn't there for the process. It was storming the whole day and my mom and I were fighting off and on about navigation. A few hours after settling in, my brother calls to inform us that he feels ill and needs to be picked up so my mom sets out to find him (he's a trucker in training) but gets lost and I have to my best to guide her back to the apartment when I barely understand the directions myself.

They make it back around 12AM, I have this splitting headache, I unpack, take some medicine and get some sleep. I had an interview with a fast food chain 3 minutes away that my aunt recommended I stay with even though I hate working in fast food but I still needed a job if we were going to live here so I obliged. My mom is looking for work but with no luck, my aunt becomes pushy with her by giving her a deadline, using Jesus to justify her pushiness. This all rubs us the wrong way. She comes over a few days later to drop off some gifts. She asks my brother to cut his hair because she doesn't like it and says no, rightfully so, I guess this and the fact that I sided with my brother and didn't feel comfortable going on a charity walk with her anymore was the catalyst for her abandoning us again, and for the last time.

My mom had been texting her between this time and she just stops replying. I text her, nothing. A few days later, she texts my mom to accuse her of stealing monies from my uncle and then tells her that she can't help us anymore. My mom is very upset by this news and so are we.

After some careful discussion, we start making plans to leave and to support ourselves like we planned before she got involved.

It sucks that she lied but it's better this way. I never truly trusted her to begin with.

Here's to new beginnings

[missmeinyourbones]

TWO IS BETTER THAN ONE (suna x reader)

cw: implied AFAB reader (baby bump), lots of mentions of pregnancy & parenthood, doctors office talk, i think reader is referred to as mom twice ?? expecting-dad!suna, slightly suggestive bc he’s annoying. you know i’ve officially locked in a character when i start writing parent content for them LMFAO

part two

The plush chair of the doctor’s office is surprisingly comfortable, or maybe it’s the fact that your body aches with a soreness that can’t be relieved for another 6 months.

It’s not your first time making yourself cozy in the chair, nor is it your husband’s first time sitting beside you, palms locked together as he mindlessly rubs circles to your knuckles. 

However, it is your first time being this big at a doctor’s appointment, now approaching your second trimester and growing by (what feels like) the second.

The pressure in your back slightly fades with the support of the pillowy examination chair. Between it’s relieving comfort and Suna’s relaxing touches, you almost find yourself drifting off to sleep while waiting for the obstetrician. 

Lucky you, Suna’s voice lures you back to reality.

“If it’s a girl, you owe me twenty bucks,” he mumbles against your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to the cold back of your palm. As his tongue briefly swipes the skin, he faintly tastes the hand sanitizer you used after entering the room.

He grins when you tsk at his comment before reminding him, “We are not betting money on the sex of our child.”

He sighs in faux disappointment before pretending to mull over your empty scold.

“Fine, if it’s a girl… you have to blow me,” he settles on, looking rather pleased with the compromise. 

“That’s what got us pregnant in the first place, Rin.”

“Technically, no. What got us pregnant was when you—”

“And if it’s a boy?” you’re quick to cut off whatever crude memory weighs heavy on his tongue. 

“If it’s a boy...” he takes a moment to think the possibility over before his eyes light up with cocky realization, “then I’ll never ask you to get on top, ever again.”

His grin grows when your laughter echoes throughout the room. “Fucking deal,” you give in with little to no persuasion needed. 

The doctor knocks a pattern on the door, and you’re suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that she didn’t choose to knock thirty seconds prior. She waits for your call of confirmation before entering the room with a soft, reserved smile.

Not an obstetrician you’ve met with before, but not still adorned with professionalism, she greets the two of you with a comforting hospitality. Once all introductions and updates are out of the way, she slides her stool over where you sit. Suna doesn’t move from your side, even when the doctor struggles to wiggle in between his chair and the counter to squeeze by. 

“Alright, Mom and Dad, let’s take a look,” she slides on a pair of plastic gloves, signaling for you to lift your shirt and expose your bump. 

You wince slightly when she rubs the cool gel across your sensitive skin, and though he chuckles beneath his breath at your reaction, you feel Suna’s hand gently squeeze yours a few times in reassurance. 

The two of you watch intently as the doctor cautiously drags the transducer around your stomach, searching for the clearest image of your growing baby. Switching positions a few times, she points out a handful of quick images including tiny toes and twitching fingers. 

With the heartwarming flashes on the monitor, Suna excitedly remembers your harmless bet. He shifts in his chair, now impatient to prove you wrong. 

“Do you know if we can find out the gender today?”

The doctor wears a expression of doubt, “No, I don’t think so. Since there’s two of them, they’re tinier than babies normally are at this point in the pregnancy. You should be able to find out at your next appointment when—”

Your heart thumps heavily in your chest. You interrupt her mid-explanation, “Sorry, two of them?”

The doctor removes her focused gaze from the monitor and over to where the two of you gawk at her casual reveal of such an important, life-altering detail. 

“Yeah, you’re having twins,” her eyes wearily flicker between you and your husband. “Did you…not know that already?”

“The last doctor didn’t say anything about twins,” Suna retorts with surprise that somehow still drips of sarcasm, “think we would’ve remembered that part.”

Still in shock, you don’t have it in you to berate his impolite comment. Instead, your eyes remain bulging at the monitor displaying a black and white blob of baby, or rather babies. 

You do your best to keep your tone level as you digress, “You’re sure you’re reading it correctly?”

The doctor confirms with a confident nod, “Positive.”

Her hand returns to navigating the transducer around your stomach, gliding it in all different angles to attempt to prove her conclusion. 

“There’s one,” she stops on an image that though shaky, clearly depicts the outline of a head.

“And...there’s two,” she grins, slightly moving the device a bit to the left to reveal another identical forming head.

She goes between the two images as proof before applauding, “Congratulations, double the fun.”

The rest of the appointment whizzes by in a blur of disbelief and anticipation. The doctor books your next appointment, as well as giving you multiple pamphlets on your next trimester, explaining in simple terms what changes and symptoms to expect. You nod along, only half-listening as the thumping of your heart in your chest distracts you. 

She eventually leaves with the same friendliness she came with, but the room feels different from before she entered. There’s a hovering uneasiness that suffocates your thoughts. If your silence wasn’t loud enough, your heavy breathing was an indicator for Suna to bounce into action. 

He brings his idle hand up to your cheek, letting his fingers gently caress the clammy skin. 

“Y’okay, pretty?” he cautiously mumbles, eyes flickering over your dazed expression. 

Realizing how alarming your silence must be, you bring yourself to nod in reassurance. “Yeah. I mean it’s insane, but I’m okay,” you truthfully bare before turning the tables with a hesitant whisper.

“Are you?”

You anxiously await his response, because though unexpected and jarring to say the very least, you know that you can handle twins. A blessing of good karma granted to you through the form of an extra heartbeat. It’s incredible, but ultimately, you know it’s not what Suna signed up for. 

You haven’t a clue of where his head is at. Maybe this is too much for him, maybe he’s second guessing everything he knows about being an expecting father, maybe this is all he needed to up and abandon this whole relationship and—

“Are you kidding?” his voice is soft, but the smile on his face is anything but as it spreads from ear to ear, “I’m fucking amped.”

You don’t realize you started crying until his fingers are wet with salt and his coos are pressed into your skin. You laugh in relief at his giddy response, all emotion and stress and fear leaving your body through a release of happy tears. 

“Good,” you release a wet laugh before leaning further into his touch, “it’s just shocking, y’know?” 

Suna nods with an empathy he saves just for you, “I know, but we’ll be fine.” His words, though shaky and unverified, leave you feeling an instant wave of comfort. He squeezes your hand again before insisting, “Just gotta adjust the plan, right?”

You exhale, slumping against his shoulder, “Right.”

He places a few warm kisses to your temple, before allowing them to crawl to your forehead and cheeks. In between smooches against your skin, he murmurs.

“I mean,” kiss, “you were already gonna be a great mom to one kid,” kiss, “now you’re just gonna be a great mom to two,” kiss, kiss, kiss. 

He allows himself to hover over your lips for a moment, whispering the promise of a lifetime before allowing himself to kiss you where you need him the most.

“We’ll be alright, all four of us,” he concludes with a toothy smooch. 

You reaffirm his words against his lips, “We’ll be alright.”

Suna pulls away, getting a good look at you as he wipes any stray tears away he missed before. Like a cat, you purr beneath his touch and borderline nuzzle into the warmth of his hand. 

“Plus,” his eyebrows arch in a playful manner, “this just means that I fucked you so good, it knocked you up twice.”

Your scoff-chuckle hybrid is almost immediate, but still he marks it as a victory in his books. 

“Don’t think that’s how it works, Rin.”

“Just let me have it, will you?”

The moment is sweet, the only noises in the room being your shared breathing and the ticking of the clock hanging from the wall. The sudden jolt of Suna sitting up contrasts the peaceful moment. 

“Oh shit,” he furrows his eyebrows in deep thought. 

“What?!” you jump up from your seat, or try to. Within milliseconds, your husband’s cradling your stomach with one hand while sitting you back down with the other. 

“Careful, baby, sit down,” he breathlessly reprimands as he ushers you back into the seat, “It’s nothing, I just...realized something.” 

You glare at him with anxious expectancy, and he merely shakes his head in disbelief before grumbling out.  

“The Miya’s are gonna find this fucking hilarious.”

[blu-joons]

Rainy Day Walks ~ Kim Namjoon

You couldn’t hold back your chuckle as your hand pressed to the top of your head as the first droplet of rain struck you. Namjoon’s eyes flickered across to you, noticing a sudden increase of pace from Moni as he tried to check up on you.

As he did, he felt a droplet of rain strike against the top of his own head causing him to grumble. His free hand grabbed onto you to keep you up with his pace, determined to find shelter for the three of you as quickly as possible.

“This wasn’t quite what I had planned,” he sighed as several more droplets hit you both.

Your head shook as you caught back up with him and Moni, “a little rain never hurt nobody, even if you do promise me that it wouldn’t rain whilst we went out for a walk.”

“Someone must really hate us to make it rain,” he chuckled, walking towards a forested pathway, “the weather really can change its mind in a heartbeat.”

Whilst the two of you tried to seek shelter underneath one of the bigger trees along the pathway, Moni moved to stand between the two of you, hovering between both sets of legs to try and keep himself as dry as possible too, not caring too much for how damp both of you were.

“Don’t worry Mon, daddy lied to us both about the weather,” you whispered in comfort.

Namjoon loosened the grip that he had against Moni’s lead to allow him to stretch out, whilst also striking out softly against your arm. He felt guilty for dragging you both out in the rain, even if he knew the rain never tended to bother you too much.

You were usually more than happy to join Namjoon on a walk with Moni, sometimes walking for hours as you explored the quieter side of the city. However, there was something incredibly unsettling about adventuring in the pouring rain.

“I’ll make sure the two of you get spoiled rotten when we get home to make up for being such a terrible boyfriend and dad,” Namjoon vowed, pulling you tighter into his side too, “you should have brought a jacket though, just to be on the safe side.”

Your head shook back at him, rather stupidly perhaps, you trusted in what he had to say, listening to him promise over and over again that there would be no chance of rain on your adventures.

The two of you remained underneath the tree for the bulk of the downpour, despite finding shelter as best as you could, the three of you were still drenched. Droplets ran down your hair, your clothes stuck to your body, with one very disgruntled pup staring up at you as the skies began to clear.

You couldn’t hold back your chuckle as you looked down at Moni and the state of his fur. The small curls he had were on show thanks to the rain, sticking against his body.

“What do you reckon? Should we make an escape whilst it’s getting a bit quieter?” Namjoon asked, with the first sight of blue sky coming overhead at last, it felt slightly like a now or never time for the both of you.

“We’re already soaked, more rain won’t change that.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you still look adorable, the rain really just shows off the natural beauty that you have.”

Your hand pushed against the small of his back as he began walking, with a very reluctant Moni following behind. You understood how he felt, taking small steps as he did behind Namjoon.

“I hope you know that you’ve got one annoyed dog following behind you who is probably going to want absolutely nothing to do with you for the rest of the evening.”

“He can never stay mad at me for too long.”

Namjoon looked back to smile down at Moni, but Moni could only look up at Namjoon before looking away again. The snigger that you let go of didn’t help Namjoon, moving his eyes to look helplessly at you.

“You’re the one who promised us both a pleasant evening walk, don’t look at me like that for help,” you very quickly warned him, hurrying him along the path to try and get home before anymore rain decided to fall.

As the skies became brighter and the pathways began to dry out, both you and Moni were a little happier walking, soon both standing back at Namjoon’s side. You were still incredibly uncomfortable, but from beside you, you could tell how frustrated Namjoon was too.

“There’s always been something nice about the rain,” you began to whisper across to him, “makes you feel like you’re in the movies, right?”

“I can tell what you’re doing, you always try and make me feel better about things.”

Your head shook as you looped your arm around his, relaxing your hand around his that held onto Moni’s lead. Your damp head settled against Namjoon’s damp shoulder, not caring about the weather any longer, enjoying the memories that were being made instead.

“I’m being serious, it’s refreshing, really makes you feel at one with nature,” you assured him, “all we need is a kiss, surely?”

“You want me to kiss you like this?”

Your head nodded back at him, “we’re both drenched from the rain, neither of us know whether we want to laugh or cry right now, wouldn’t it be the perfect solution just to kiss instead?”

Your eyes continued to stare up at Namjoon until finally he looked down at you, rolling his eyes at your perseverance, a quality that he so often admired about you greatly.

After a few moments, Namjoon finally leant down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. The smell of the rain was strong, with droplets dripping from the tip of your nose interrupting your kiss until finally Namjoon pulled away.

“See,” you chuckled as he distanced himself from you again, “walks in the rain can still be special, even if you have to search a little bit harder for the moments to make it so.”

“You’re impossible,” he laughed, “but pretty special too.”

You smiled proudly as Namjoon passed Moni’s lead across to you, giving you the chance to try and keep up with his fast pace for a moment. “I know you’re frustrated that it’s ended up raining, but it’s not the end of the world for Moni, or for me.”

“Most people would probably hate walking in the rain, and yet somehow you’ve managed to make such a groggy experience feel pleasant,” he chuckled, “how do you always manage to do it?”

Your shoulders shrugged back at him as your free hand intertwined in with Namjoon’s. You were always aware of how hard he was on himself, and even though a walk in the rain wasn’t exactly ideal for you, you knew it would be even less of the ideal for Namjoon too.

“I guess I just make sure that I enjoy all of the time I have with you, however strange it is,” you responded, “and with Moni too.”

“Of course, Moni is a part of the family too.”

---

Masterlist

[chaoticpuff17]

When the Chips are Down

part 10

masterlist

Warnings: arguing, smut, pregnant smut, lactation kink (if you squint) 

hello my darlings, so I did a thing, a thing I did not know that I was going to be doing, but enjoy!--- chaotic puff 

She’d had some time with the other ladies after her appointment was over before Miss In ushered everyone out claiming that Y/N needed rest. Rest was well and good, but she would have preferred having company. She detested bed rest, but it was made better by the presence of a certain orange bundle of hate that had driven her regular fluffy white companion away. 

Hoseok had come to get Iyla, and he’d brought with him Chester. He shoved the cat into her arms muttering something about taking her demon cat back, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she held the grumbly little cat. She couldn’t blame Hoseok for wanting him gone. Chester liked very few people. He liked her best and then Iyla. Jackson had been tolerated, but Chester was her little grump, a little grump who had set up shop half sprawled across her belly and refused to move, meowing unhappily anytime someone got to close. This was how Namjoon found her later that night. 

She was content as she could be given the situation, curled up a bundle of yarn and a crochet hook when Namjoon walked in.

“I’m sorry I was away so long.” he sent her a tired smile, crossing the room to kiss her forehead only to jump back as her little orange protector hissed at him. “What is that doing back here?” he asked, taking another step back to put a little more distance between himself and Chester. The cat might not have been in the estate for long, but everyone knew that he was a bad tempered little demon. 

“Hoseok brought him over when he came to get Iyla.” she hummed, gently scratching under Chester’s chin earning herself a contented purr from the cat. 

Namjoon sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can’t Hoseok take it back?” 

“No.” she huffed, sending him a dark look. 

“You have Moni.” 

“I also have Chester.” 

“Chester is a living horror.” Namjoon huffed, staring at the cat with distaste. “I  can get you a new cat, a better cat.” 

“I like Chester. Picked him up from the streets. He was a skinny little thing then.” she mused fondly, pausing the repetitive motion of her fingers so she could give the cat a little scratch around the ears. 

“No. No street cats. He could have diseases.” 

She scoffed, picking up the crochet hook again. “I’ve had Chester for years. He doesn’t have any diseases.” 

“I’ll get you a puppy.” he offered, practically begging her to send the nightmare of a cat back to Hoseok. 

“I already have a dog.” 

“A dog who is terrified of that thing.” Carefully, Namjoon approached the bed again, wary of the cat. “It’s a street cat. I can find you something better, something nicer.” 

Her hands stilled, her shoulders suddenly pulled back in a rigid posture that matched the incredulous look in her eye and the flash of ire in their depths. “So that means I’m free to go.” 

“What? Of course not...”

“I lived on the streets, so did Iyla. Who knows what kind of diseases we could be carrying? You can find something better.” 

He was silent, letting her words sink in, very quickly realizing the error of his words. “That’s not… I’m sorry, jagi. That’s not what I meant.”  She huffed, refusing to answer him as she kept her jaw set in irritation, picking up her project again, aggressively working through the next couple of stitches. “Jagi…”  He took a step closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed reaching for her only to draw his hand back as the cat took a swipe at him with an angry yowl. 

“Careful. He’ll get you.” she scoffed. “And you never know what sort of diseases we could be carrying.” 

“Jagi, I never meant…” 

“Then what did you mean?” she looked up, quirking a brow. “I think you were quite clear on your feelings about it.” 

“I would never… I didn’t mean.” he sighed trying to collect himself. “I could never find anyone better than you.” 

“Go to the bad part of town and you’ll find a dozen girls just like me, just like I was all those years ago.” 

“But they’re not you.” he urged sitting on the bed despite Chester taking another swipe at him. Joon had other ideas though. Quickly and carefully as he could, he removed the cat from her belly, earning himself some scratches in the process as the cat tried to take a bite out of him. 

“What are you doing?” she cried setting down her project again. 

“I’d like to talk to my wife without your little orange demon keeping me at arm’s length.” he huffed practically tossing the cat off the bed. As soon as the cat was out of the way, he took her hands in his, urging her to look at him. “I never meant to insult you or your past. I know how hard it was for you, for Iyla. If I could have taken you away from that, I would have. Marcus never would have laid a hand on you.” he reached up a hand to cup her cheek even though she turned away from  his touch. 

“You can’t change the past, and who even says I would have wanted you?” 

“I love you, jagi.” he promised, turning her face back to his. “If you would just let me…” 

“You’d what?” she asked, voice harsh and brows scrunched together. “You’d give up your business? You’d let Iyla leave? You’d let me have my freedom? What would you do?” 

“I would give you the world.” 

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t want the world. I never did. I just wanted my family to be safe.” 

“I can keep you safe. I will protect you and our family.” he urged. “Nothing will ever hurt you while I’m here.” 

“Except for you?” 

He tensed but forced himself to relax. “I don’t want to hurt you, jagi. I want you safe and happy, you and the baby.” 

“We were happy in Italy.” 

“Happy with me.” he amended, slightly annoyed by her mention of Italy. He was still silently fuming about having to release Mark, and he didn’t want any reminders of her time away from him,  not when they were so close to having their perfect little family. “I could make you so happy, jagi.” 

She rolled her eyes again, turning her attention back to the project at hand, taking her other hand away from Namjoon so she could get back to work.

“What are you working on?” 

“If all goes well? It should be a teddy bear.” 

“For the baby?” she hummed her assent. “How did the appointment go?” he asked, settling himself on the bed beside her. 

“Baby’s fine. I’m fine.” 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side as she continued with her stitches. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. I have to get things in order for the birth, so I can be here with you and the baby. Did you get a picture?” he asked hopefully. 

“It’s over on the table.” she nodded. “Healthy baby. The doctor said that she should be here in about five weeks.” 

“Five?” He asked, turning his attention away from the ultrasound photo. “I thought you were due in six.” His eyes darted between her face and the belly, before he froze his eyes, wide as saucers, slowly settling on her face. “She?” he asked, voice barely above an awed whisper. “It’s a girl?” 

A bright smile spread across her features as she nodded. She couldn’t be mad when she was talking about her baby, her little girl, and she couldn’t deny his awe was endearing. 

“A girl.” he whispered, eyes drifting down to her belly in awe, hands settling on it as he bent down so that he was eye level with her bump. “Hi, princess. Your mom and I are so excited to meet you, but you need to stay safe in there for a few more weeks okay? You have to stop giving your mom and I such scares. You’re giving me gray hair.” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her belly. “You can do that for me. Okay, princess?” 

Y/N suppressed a laugh, and Namjoon looked up at her with a big grin. He was different now than when she left. He was less soft, more chiseled. His features had become sharper, and she could definitely see the muscles straining under his suit jacket. She had to admit, he looked good, a little tired, but good. Their time apart had changed both of them apparently. 

 “We’re having a girl.” 

“We are.” she nodded with a grin of her own, only to be caught off guard as Namjoon darted up and caught her in a deep kiss,  entangling his hands in her short hair. 

“We’re having a girl.” he murmured again once he pulled away before diving in for another kiss. “I love you, jagi.” he went in for another kiss, only to be shocked by the moan that Y/N released. He pulled away slightly looking down at her, the cogs in his head turning. 

Slowly, he slid a hand down to rest against her breast giving it a tentative squeeze and was rewarded by a gasp from his wife. “So sensitive.” he praised, feeling the weight of her breast in his hands. They were definitely bigger now.

“Namjoon…” she warbled, bringing a shaky hand up to his shoulder in a weak attempt to push him away. She would have been lying if she said she wasn’t horny. All the hormones rushing through her body had left her a little more than frustrated for a lot of her pregnancy, but Mark had taken care of some of that. Mark wasn’t here now though. Namjoon was. 

“Shh, jagi.” he purred, trailing kisses down her neck, nipping at her pulse. “Let me make you feel good.” 

“Namjoon… the baby!” she gasped, fingers clutching the material of his suit as he bit down on her collarbone

“The baby’s fine. The doctor tells me things too.” he pulled away to look up at her with a mischievous grin. “You’re leaking, jagi.” he chuckled, rolling her nipple through the thin material of her nightgown. 

“Namjoon!” she scolded, pushing against his shoulder again. 

“It’s good.” he grinned. “You’re getting ready for our baby.”  

“It’s embarrassing.” she hissed. 

“It’s natural.” he pulled down her nightgown to expose her breasts. 

“They’re sore.” she warned, trying to steer him away from her chest. 

“I can help with that.” he grinned, leaning down to take one of her nipples into his mouth, rolling the bud around with his tongue. 

“Namjoon!” she cried, her hands flying up to his hair. 

“You taste divine, jagi.”  he purred looking up from her breast. 

“Stop.” she gasped as he leaned down to pay attention to her other breast. “We should stop.” 

He paused, looking up at her with that same mischievous look on his face. “Why?” he asked. “You’re my wife, and I want to make love to my beautiful,” a kiss was placed on her neck. “Pregnant,”  Another kiss. “Wife.” by this point he had worked his way up to her face again, placing the final kiss on her lips. “Will you let me do that?” he whispered, forehead pressed against hers. 

“Okay.” she whispered.

She could regret it in the morning, blame it on the hormones or the rush of endorphins or just the general horniness she’d been feeling for months, but for now she was going to let a very attractive man make love to her and pretend like this was normal. She was going to pretend that she was happy and in love and celebrating her baby girl with the love of her life even if she wasn’t. She could regret it in the morning. 

Namjoon didn’t hesitate once he had her permission, getting to work relieving them both of their clothes, cursing himself for the three piece suit he’d chosen that morning. It had too many layers, too many buttons. This was the first time in months he was going to be able to touch her, to make love to her, and he was the idiot wearing a three piece suit. 

He’d noticed during their bath the changes to her body, but it was fascinating to see them up close, to be able to worship them as he should have been able to do from the beginning. There were stretch marks on her hips, extending up her belly, and he made sure to press a kiss to each one. Her hips were fuller, and her belly, god her belly, it was glorious, round and soft and all because of him. That was his child, his daughter, in there, the perfect little angel that he and Y/N had made. He still couldn’t believe it. A daughter, he was going to have a daughter. He could practically see her now. She’d have her mother’s eyes and his dimples, and she’d be quick as a wip. She was going to be beautiful, just like her mother. 

“I love you.” He murmured against her belly as he practically ripped her underwear from her. 

It had been a long eight months without her. Yes, there had been other women, but they couldn’t compare to her. No one could ever compare to her.

“Namjoon.” she mewled a tone of neediness in her voice that he had never heard before, and he swore under his breath catching sight of what waited for him between her legs. 

“You’re dripping for me, jagi.” he growled, rubbing two fingers over her slit. “Soaked just for me.” she whimpered, her hips bucking up a little in search of something more than the light touches he was giving her, and Namjoon was more than happy to give that to her. 

She was wet enough that he had no problem plunging two fingers directly into her heat eliciting the most enticing moan from her. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her right there and then, but he knew she needed to be prepped before he could do that. He didn’t want to hurt her, not again. The last time they’d been together had been traumatizing for her, and he didn’t want anything to hurt her during their first time together again. 

His thumb rubbed circles around her clit as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her watching closely as she came closer and closer to coming undone. Just before she was about to fall over the edge, he pulled away, and Y/N cried out in protest.

“I want you to come around my cock, jagi.” He growled, flipping her over gently, helping her onto her hands and knees so that there would be no strain on her belly.  “Can you do that for me?” 

“Please, Namjoon.” she begged, resting on her forearms forehead pressed down onto the pillow as she stuck her ass out. 

“Anything for you.” he promised, pressing a kiss to the small of her back before lining himself up with her entrance. 

They both groaned as he sunk into her. “Shit, jagi. You’re still so tight.” he groaned, forcing himself to keep still as she adjusted to his size. “So tight for me.” 

He was careful as he began to move. He went slow, each thrust deliberate, enjoying the feel of her around him, enjoying the sounds she made. Slowly he began to pick up speed, one hand kept still on her hip while the other reached between them to play with her clit building her back up to the orgasm that he’d denied her before. He was reaching his own high embarrassingly quickly, but it had been so long since he’d had the privilege of being with her like this. 

He could feel her shaking, her walls spasming around him as she trembled on the edge of her high. “Cum for me.” He growled, his thrusts picking up speed. “Cum with me, jagi.” 

It wasn’t long before they were both crying out in pleasure as their orgasms ripped through them. Namjoon kept thrusting lazily into her, dragging out her pleasure as she shook like a leaf beneath him. 

Once they had both caught their breath, Namjoon eased out of her, carefully helping her back onto her side, wedging a pillow under her belly to help ease the weight of it. 

“I’ll be right back, jagi.” he promised as she whined reaching back towards him. “I need to get you cleaned up.” 

He was quick, washing himself up as swiftly as possible, and returning to her with fresh pajamas for both of them, and a wet washcloth to clean up the mess he’d left between her legs. 

“Joon.” she whined, flinching as he cleaned her up, and he whispered apologies knowing she had to be sensitive. 

Once they were both cleaned up and dressed, Namjoon settled them both down under the covers, pressing her back to his chest so that he could wrap his arms around her, so that he could keep both her and their daughter close. 

“I love you so much, jagi.” he whispered into her neck as she hummed sleepily. “So, so much.” 

part 11

[lumelii]

THANK YOU ~|~ NANAMI X FEM!READER

Summary: Tensions are high in the Nanami household. Outside influence (and bribery) are needed.

Content warnings: slight angst, child-parent relations, singledad!Nanami

Note: This is my first fic on this blog, so let me know what you think! Big thanks to Moni for beta-reading this for me <3

word count: 2.0k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I hate you!”

Nanami couldn’t stop his flinch as Yuuji slammed the door to his room behind him. He didn’t have the energy now to scold him for slamming his door. Instead, he heaved a deep sigh and walked back down their small hallway to the living room to collapse on the couch. The bottle of whisky safely locked away in the cabinet above the fridge called to him but he resisted the urge. When Yuuji finally came out, he wanted to be completely sober so they could sit down and talk this out.

He could have left the apartment right now, found Gojou, and throttled him after choking him on those concert tickets. Whatever had possessed him to think two twelve-year-old boys could go out by themselves in the middle of the night to the show of a band whose music was far too mature for them anyway, Nanami didn’t know, and he guessed Toji didn’t know about it either. Otherwise the idea wouldn’t have left the Fushiguro house.

As soon as Yuuji had seen those tickets, it was the only thing he could talk about, filling their daily walk home from his school with his excited chatter. Nanami listened as intently as he could while trying to push all thoughts of work out of his head, putting all focus on his son. But when he heard just what band the boys were planning on seeing, the conversation had deteriorated to the point where Yuuji had begun yelling at his father, uttering those final three words before entombing himself in his room.

Nanami had resisted the pull to argue right back with Yuuji, but a thirty-something year old man arguing with his twelve-year-old son was downright ridiculous, and he had to take the high road in situations like this. Even despite his outburst, Nanami would not budge. Yuuji wouldn’t be allowed to go to the concert, and he would go so far as to call Toji and suggest he do the same with Megumi. He wasn’t afraid to be the bad guy if it meant his family was safe.

A sudden knock startled him from his reflection to look at the front door. He wasn’t expecting anyone to stop by, and he hadn’t buzzed anyone into the apartment. His heart quickened unwillingly at the rising probability of who it could be.

His suspicions were confirmed when he finally opened the door and saw you, his very sweet, very attractive next-door neighbor standing there, a smile crossing your face when he finally appeared. He tried not to focus on how your shirt clung perfectly to your curves, or your jeans, though stained with something he guessed was peanut butter, emphasized your small waist and shapely legs. Your dog helped him focus, distracting him from your form as he curiously watched it lick a spot of peanut butter from your jeans.

“Sorry, he snuck out the door with me as I was leaving.” Your smile grew sheepish as you held up a plate filled with treats. “Sounded like you both were having a rough day. But I guess now’s not the best time?”

“No, please, come in.” Nanami stepped aside and allowed you and your companion to enter. “We’ve just had a long day.”

The large dog plodded down the apartment’s small hallway and stopped at Yuuji’s door, pawing at it once with a whine. The door opened just enough for the animal to slip through before it slammed shut again.

“Is everything alright?” The look of genuine concern on your face made his heart tighten just for a moment while you sat on the couch together. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, he’s upset I won’t let him go to the Raising Dead concert with Megumi by themselves.” Nanami sighed. “Unless I change all my beliefs in the next week, he still won’t be going.”

“Raising Dead?” Your eyes went unimaginably wide. “My mom wouldn’t let me even see them when I was 18. They’re a little…mature aren’t they? For someone Yuuji’s age? How did he even hear about them?”

“Exactly why I won’t allow him to go.” Nanami pointed out. “His best friend Megumi got the tickets from his,” he paused for a moment to consider how he could explain the relationship, “uncle. I guess they listen to the band together.”

“Well, I think you’re making the right decision, not that my opinion matters.” Your smile was soft as you rested a hand on his arm, making his skin burn in your wake. “I heard they rip heads off of chickens at their concerts.”

Your opinion is the only one that matters. He bit back the words and cleared his throat, shifting so your hand fell off his arm, but your touch still lingered. “It doesn’t change the fact that Yuuji is upset with me. He wanted the opportunity to go with his friend, and I stopped him from doing that.”

You considered this, looking toward the door to Yuuji’s room. “Do you want me to try to talk to him?”

“He’s pretty upset. Do you think he’d want to talk to you?”

“I could try. I had an overprotective parent too.” You grinned as he scoffed at your remark.

“I’m not overprotective.” Nanami frowned at her.

“You were one scraped knee away from sending him to kindergarten wrapped in bubble wrap for the rest of the year.”

“He kept getting hurt.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but there was no malice as you paired it with a soft smile. Standing, you grabbed the plate of cookies off the table and started walking towards Yuuji’s door. He followed you, leaning against the wall where Yuuji wouldn’t be able to see him if he didn’t open his door fully. He watched as you took a deep breath before knocking softly. “Yuuji? I made cookies. Do you want some?”

There was silence for several moments before Yuuji’s voice finally came from the other side.

“What kind?” He sounded muffled.

“Peanut butter chocolate chip.”

Another silent moment passed, then his door opened just enough to let his arm through, feeling around blindly for the treats. You held the plate just out of his reach when he was about to touch the edge.

“If you want them, you have to let me in.”

Yuuji considered this, his arm going limp before retreating completely just as his door opened a fraction more. “Just you.” He emphasized.

You turned to him with a small smile and squeezed your way into his room, the door finally closing softly for once this afternoon.

Nanami started to take a step forward to listen, but hesitated at the last minute. Although he had just denied it with his neighbor, he was overprotective, and that side of him screamed to listen in so he could know how Yuuji was, but it was clear he needed his space. If Yuuji found out he had been eavesdropping, that would only make it worse.

He forced himself to walk away, changing out of his work clothes into a t-shirt and going into the kitchen to start making dinner while they talked. He turned on an instrumental playlist, not wanting to deal with lyrics while he was so deep in thought, his mind occupied with his son and the problem he was currently facing at work.

About an hour later (and several shameless tiptoes down the squeaky hall to see if you two were still talking), Nanami looked up to see you and Yuuji turning the corner into the living room/kitchen area. Yuuji kept his eyes on the carpet, kicking it with his socked toe while you looked between the two males expectantly. When Yuuji didn’t say anything, you elbowed him as a prompt. He looked up at Nanami for a second then back down at his feet.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“For?” You said before Nanami could respond.

“For yelling at you. I was upset. I want to go to the concert with Megumi. But if it’s not safe, I’ll listen.” He spoke as if he were reciting a speech, but finally looked up at Nanami with an intense stare. “I still want to go though.”

“And?”

Yuuji lost some of his steel and looked back down. “And I don’t hate you.”

Nanami looked at you for a second, wondering what magic you had worked to get his stubborn almost-teenager to actually speak like an adult instead of yelling at him again. When you pointed and mouthed ‘All him’ behind Yuuji’s back, he took a deep breath and looked back at his son.

“I know you still want to go. But it’s not safe. Especially with you two going by yourself. If you find something else you want to go to, that’s not that band, then I’ll take you and Megumi.”

Yuuji looked like was about to start arguing again, but you cleared your throat and gave him a meaningful look when he glanced over at you. He relented with a sigh and a nod.

Now that was over with, Nanami walked around the counter and hugged Yuuji, placing a kiss on the top of his head. Yuuji hugged him back willingly before they both turned their attention back to you. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” The blond man asked.

You shook your head. “I should really go back home, I have to finish up a lot of chores I’ve been putting off.”

“Please stay.” Yuuji grabbed your arm. “I’ll help you tomorrow.”

“You have your own chores to do, Yuuji. And homework.” Nanami reminded him.

His son ignored him and held your arm tighter. “Please?”

Yuuji’s pleading won out, and after staying and having a jovial dinner of katsudon with the two men, you all sat on the couch to watch a movie of Yuuji’s choosing, one he promptly fell asleep to, his head on Nanami’s chest as he drooled on his shirt. The father looked at you, watching the screen intently as you tried to decipher who just was the killer in the murder mystery, sipping a cup of tea carefully.

You’d never know just how much he loved you. So he settled with the obvious for now.

“Thank you.” Nanami whispered over Yuuji’s head.

You turned to look at him, your brows still drawn together in confusion as if you didn’t know what he was thanking you for. When he nodded down to Yuuji’s sleeping form, you raised your eyebrows in acknowledgment and looked back to the TV screen.

“I didn’t do anything that wouldn’t have happened eventually.” You told him as you took a sip of tea. “He adores you, he wouldn’t have stayed mad for long.”

“Did he say anything?”

“I don’t want to betray his trust.” You admitted.

“Fair enough.” Nanami relented. “Would you tell me, though, if he needed anything?”

You smiled and nodded. “Always. Yuuji comes first.”

He thought he noticed a hint of sadness in your eyes at your words, but you were already up and gathering your empty dish before it registered. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of Yuuji’s head, and with just the slightest hesitation, one on Nanami’s cheek. He felt his face catch fire as soon as your lips touched his skin, tingles emanating from where your lips made contact. He barely registered your own cheeks burning red as well as you started walking towards the door. “Come on, Koro.”

The woman and dog finally disappeared, leaving Nanami and Yuuji alone in their apartment. Once he carried Yuuji to bed and read a few chapters of his current book, he turned off the light and laid back staring up in the dark. No matter how hard he tried, his mind wouldn’t succumb to sleep. He kept thinking of you, not just your shared moment tonight, but every moment of the entire seven years you had known each other, memories he analyzed and went through with a fine-toothed comb each night before he fell asleep. Had he built up the glances the way you touched his hand, how you chose to spend your time with them rather than by yourself or with others? How you cared for Yuuji like her own, willing to help whenever you could? Were the feelings lying just beneath his carefully constructed surface genuine, ready to burst forth at any moment?

Were you in your bed, doing the same, thinking of him?

tags: @oikawaandkuroostan

[beatricethecat2]

"This is nice," Myka says, sipping her beer while surveying the bar.

"Consuming alcohol in a public house?" Helena asks.

"Yeah," Myka says, eyes angling down as she picks at her label. "Working with Pete...this wasn't a thing I could do much. Then Steve and I had a drink here, and I remembered what it was like. I used to go on my own in DC just to unwind. Feels like a lifetime ago."

“In many ways it was," Helena says, idly stiring the ice left in her drink. "Could you ever have imagined the company you now keep?"

"I don't think so," Myka says, shifting closer to Helena. "But I like it, a lot. Doing this with you feels...normal. Two people, spending time together, not a care in the world."

"You care for nought?" Helena says, fingers tracing a line from Myka's thumb to her wrist where her hand rests on her thigh.

"Ok, one care," Myka says, eyes flicking up to meet Helena's. "Hey, I know that look. We said we'd stay for the band tonight, not just hole up in our room."

"Is there not another band tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but we said we'd stay for this one." Myka slips her hand from Helena's.

"As you wish," Helena says, settling back on her stool, frustration evident in her tone.

"More drinks, ladies?" the bartender says. "The band's about to start."

"I shall need one," Helena grouses.

"Stop being dramatic," Myka snips.

"Fine," Helena snaps. "Bourbon. Neat. Top shelf, please," she instructs the bartender.

"Comin' right up." The bartender steps away to complete the order.

"Oh, we're getting drunk now, are we?" Myka quips.

"When in Rome..."

"I'd actually like to see that, a drunk H.G. Wells," Myka says, poking Helena in the arm.

Helena flinches. "You may very well if you keep behaving as such."

"Seriously though, when's the last time you drank enough to let your guard down, even a little."

"In the company of others? Not in recent memory. And you?"

"Same."

"Here you go," the bartender interrupts, setting the tumbler on a napkin in front of Helena. "Another beer?" she asks Myka.

"You know what? I'll have the same." Myka waves her bottle at Helena's drink.

"Cavalier, Ms. Bering."

"We'll keep each other in check. We deserve to get super tipsy, at least."

"Color me intrigued."

The band strikes its first cord just as Myka's drink arrives. She tugs Helena's arm, and they relocate to a table near the stage.

-----------------

The Adventures of Bering and Wells ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 4 Title: New Orleans: Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Summary: Myka and Helena follow whim rather than duty, driving south, detouring around Washington DC, avoiding a second emotional rabbit hole so early on. After a wi-fi-free week in a cabin, deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains, they feel ready to tackle urban density again. ("The Rockies are better," Myka declares. "We'll go there, too.) Vowing to stay as touristy as possible, the pair head towards history-filled New Orleans. But far too soon their carefree trip hits a snag and they're in need of Warehouse help.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3

-----------------

***BONUS SCENE***

"Exactly how touristy have you been?" Abigail asks.

"Pretty touristy," Myka answers.

"Practically flâneurs," Helena says, grinning as Myka looks up at her with sparkly eyes.

"Well, that narrows it down," Steve mutters, typing into the keyboard. "Let's start with your hotel. Why'd you pick the carriage house?"

"The lack of adjoining suite and the king-sized bed."

"Helena!" Myka smacks Helena on the arm. "Because it's cute and charming."

"So this ghost isn't listed on their website? Wedding dress woman, Civil War soldier, dancing patio woman?" Steve asks.

"No. And the manager hadn't recognized the description I gave," Helena explains.

"So not all ghosts," Abigail says.

"If seeing them is normal," Myka says.

"Let's say the ones on their website are but H.G.'s isn't," Steve says.

"Are we to assume I've been 'whammied' then?" Helena says.

"You freeze in place. I have to shake you out of it," Myka explains.

"Perhaps I'm studying the phenomenon."

"You're never that still. It's creepy."

"Then I think we should consider it," Abigail says.

"Where else have you been?" Steve asks.

"Um, everywhere?" Myka answers. "That blacksmith's bar you and I went to. And The Gas and Lights Museum--"

"Such memories. So many details wrong," Helena gibes.

"On a carriage ride--"

"Highway robbery! Sixty-five dollars for a turn around the park. And not in the least authentic."

"You said it was nice!"

"I said it was familiar. The sound of it took me back," Helena says.

"I thought you'd like it." Myka leans back and looks up at Helena questioningly.

"I enjoyed the company quite thoroughly," Helena says, laying her hands on Myka's shoulders and grinning down at her fondly.

"Aww," Steve coos.

"Did anything about the carriage ride scream 'lady ghost will now appear at will?" Abigail asks.

"Not to my knowledge," Helena says.

"We also went to the Pharmacy Museum. And on a steamboat ride," Myka adds.

"Not that I'd have stepped foot on that death trap without proof of modern safety precautions. In my day, they exploded frequently," Helena explains.

"Ok...let's start with the Pharmacy Museum," Abigail says as Steve types. "Could this woman have afforded a doctor?"

"She often appears in her Sunday best, but also in, shall we say...less. She didn't strike me as particularly monied."

"Did she look sort of vampire-ish?" Steve asks. "I'm reading that people with consumption were rumored to be vampires due to how the disease aged them."

"I'm familiar with that premise, and no, this woman was not withering away."

"Could she have died on a steamboat?" Abigail asks.

"She doesn't give off that sense. There's a calm about her. She's not in danger."

"Let's try another angle. The neighborhood you're staying in, Storyville, claims to be the birthplace of jazz," Abigail says, reading over Steve's shoulder. "Maybe she's related to that?"

"Myka took me to hear this 'jazz,' and I can't say I was at all impressed."

"I like it. Steve does, too. You really hated it?" Myka asks.

"The bleat of the saxophone evokes vaudeville for me."

"Play her some Charlie Parker. Or John Coltrane. That might change her mind," Steve suggests.

"Does this relate to our ghost?" Abigail presses.

"I don't see a connection," Helena answers. "Her dress is previous to that of jazz, of an age closer to my own."

"Storyville was once a legal bordello district," Steve explains. "The whole neighborhood was shut down in 1917. So maybe she's from then?"

"That makes sense," Myka says.

"Do you see her inside or outside?" Abigail asks.

"Thus far, outside."

"But," Myka protests, "last night, when we were...t-the blindfold, you said 'just in case.'"

"Did that not heighten our activities?"

"That's not the point. I can't believe you--"

"Punish me later, darling--"

"Why don't you two hash this out, and we'll get back to you," Abigail suggests.

"Wait, is this her?" Steve asks.

Steve shares a black and white photo of a woman, seated outdoors, in front of a makeshift white backdrop, her hair styled into a modest, shoulder-length coif. Her linen top, trimmed with lace, hangs off one shoulder, and a string of pearls adorns her neck. Her lipstick, rendered as a middle grey, matches the kohl lining her eyes, giving her a soft, silent movie-era look.

"Hm, possibly."

"Here's another."

Helena leans further over Myka's shoulder, looking closely at the image. "Yes, I believe that is her."

"That's, um, really off the shoulder. Shoulders..." Myka says. "Isn't that kind of racy for the time?"

"Quite tame compared to some. Her expression is unusual, contemplative almost, recalling solemn greek statues rather than the usual fodder meant to titillate men's desires."

"How would you know?"

"One encounters all sorts of materials as a Warehouse agent," Helena says with a smirk.

"As an agent. Uh-huh."

"Listen to this," Steve interrupts, "these prints were made from a stash of glass negatives found locked in a desk drawer years after the photographer died. Many are of Adele, the woman you're seeing, but there are other women, too. They were shot in the 1910s, but these prints were made in the '60s. If there were any original prints, they were never found."

"May I see the images again?"

Steve cycles through and adds a few more, one depicting a roll-down desk with a shrine of photos arranged above, all of women, vignetted portraits and romantic depictions of the female form more typical for the time.

"Not sure if that last one is related. But it says it's by the same photographer."

"Could you send that one over? I'd like to look more closely."

"Sure."

Myka trades places with Helena, and Helena clicks the link. She enlarges the photo and inspects the array of images.

"I vaguely recall flicking through a basket in a shop with ephemera such as this. Perhaps this ghost woman was amongst it, but printed in a manner such as the images depicted here."

"So you're saying the photo in the shop might be a photo from this photo?"

"That is what I'm hypothesizing."

"So when you see her, you freeze like you're her photograph trapped in this photograph."

"Or perhaps I am her, caught in the decisive moment of the image being captured."

"That's really meta," Steve says.

"No matter what, neutralizing that photo should do the trick," Abigail suggests. "Heck, neutralize everything in the basket, just in case."

"Do you remember which shop you were in?" Steve asks.

"My recollection is hazy at best due to the copious amount of drink someone encouraged me to consume the evening previously."

Helena looks at Myka and scowls. Myka looks back, endearingly.

"I don't get hangovers."

"Lucky you," Helena quips.

"I hope you find it soon," Steve says, "because being happy looks good on both of you. You should get back to that."

"Thank you, Steve. And thank you, Abigail, for all your help," Helena says.

"Anytime," Abigail says.

"Have a great trip. Send some postcards!" Steve says.

"What a marvelous idea," Helena replies.

"Isn't flicking through postcards how we got here?" Myka warns.

"Shall you pre-screen everything I touch from now on?"

"Maybe I should--"

"We're hanging up now," Abigail says.

The screen goes blank as Myka and Helena devlove further into playful bickering.

*End Scene*

-TBC-

NOTES: "Laissez les bon temps rouler!" is Cajun French for "Let the good times roll." In season four, Steve and Myka go New Orleans and both say they like jazz, so I'm not making that up. I see Myka as more of fan of popular tunes - Billy Holiday, Duke Ellington, Nat King Cole, etc., whereas Steve would know the genre through and through (and try as he might, never gets Claudia quite on board with it all). The photographer is E. J. Bellocq - I was going to incorporate that more, but the politics behind photos I mentioned is...complicated. I want this B&W show to focus on our ladies journey, artifacts are side-plot motivations. But if you're interested, look him up, and I suggest reading both Susan Sontag and Nan Goldin's essays for some clarity on why the images hold the status they do. From the research I've done, his images are plastered all over Storyville businesses, so if you've been there, you've seen at least one. Oh and I had a roommate once who could drink anything and never got a hangover. Some people are lucky like that.

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 07 (knj)

Chapter 7: Blanket Forts

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- At the hospital, Namjoon tries to make sense of what transpired as Y/N recovers.

word count- 6k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, strangers2lovers

warnings- violence, blood, stalker, hospital, extremely fluffy scenes of Joon as a caretaker

a.n- wow i literally wrote this the fastest i’ve written any chapter! i hope you like it. although there is angst there is also a lot of tooth rotting fluff. special s/o to @jungkooksbroski for beta reading this 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

—

Namjoon held your hand in both of his, his forehead resting upon them, as he waited for you to wake up from surgery, the beep of the heart monitor far too loud and ominous. His hood was on his head as his elbows dug into the ratty blue basketball shorts he had thrown on in a hurry. Even though the doctors had assured him that you were going to be fine, he was still worried. He couldn’t believe that you had gotten hurt at his own house of all places and he felt responsible as he replayed the scene in his head.

You looked so small next to the woman attacking you, it made his blood run cold. She was easily twice your size and the malice her gaze held was frightening. He barely registered her presence, how could she have been in his room the whole time he was home? Why didn’t he put his bags away so he could have caught her before she attacked? Why didn’t he hear someone else was home? He remembered hearing a noise while starting food prep and he assumed it was Moni just messing around. How stupid he had been. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, wasn’t it his responsibility to protect you?

He wasn’t even fast enough to pull her off you. He remembers time slowing down, his arms around the intruder as he tried his best to move her away but she seemed to be on a rampage, stomping on your arm. He remembers the moment her heavy boots almost flattened your arm. It was as if she wore them for the occasion. How did she even get in? He had never been happier to have Jungkook and Jimin around. If it weren’t for their help, he doesn’t even want to imagine how he would have managed. He could still feel the adrenaline in his body, hours later. The guards downstairs had been quick to arrive and he remembers sitting in his underwear trying to wake you up as he watched your arm twisted in an unnatural angle. Your scream still ricocheted through his head and he held your hand tighter, wishing you’d wake up already. The doctor had said it would take a couple of hours but he was on edge.

“But I love you!” the intruder had screamed as she was being dragged off by the guards and Namjoon hated his fame once again. He hated that it affected you, that it hurt you. If he was a nobody, you would’ve never been in this situation. You deserve someone who could hold your hand in public without fear that it might cause a controversy. Someone who you could show off at your events, someone you could travel with, someone who could take you out at normal hours to exhibits and didn’t have to sneak around with at concerts. Someone who screamed his love from rooftops, unlike him who only hid you away.

“Hyung. She’s okay. The doctor said she will be okay.” Jimin spoke softly, his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders as he hugged him back, feeling dizzy. Across from him Jungkook paced in the deluxe private hospital room that their company had reserved for them. The big room had a large bed, couch and television. Its warm wood furnishing and several fake plants were meant to emit a feeling of warmth but regardless of the size or decor, Namjoon felt like he was suffocating.

“She’s in surgery. Surgery. Because of me. Jimin what do I do?” He could feel a lump in his throat as he tried to stay strong. He knew logically that you would be fine, but all he could think was 1%. That’s what the doctor said the chance was of anything going wrong. He knew that millions of people broke their arms and were perfectly fine after a few months but you were his one in a million. The fact that he even met you was so random that he thought it fate. You always managed to do the impossible and in his emotional state that 1% chance was too large. Far too large.

Yoongi had arrived shortly after Jimin messaged the group about the home invasion and he stood next to Jimin and Namjoon, his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder as he tried to force him to drink water. The three men tried to reassure Namjoon in vain as he finally let go of Jimin to sit on the couch, his eyes glued to the door, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater as his leg bounced on its own accord.

After almost two hours he saw the door open as you were brought in on a stretcher, still asleep as the nurses moved you to the bed, checking your vitals. Yoongi had to physically restrain Namjoon from running over to you so the workers could do their job, but as soon as they were gone, he was by your side.

You were okay. Nothing went wrong and it felt like a boulder had been lifted off his shoulders as he all but collapsed, holding your hand, his head gingerly resting on your stomach. The boys bid him goodbye soon after making sure he was okay, giving the two of you privacy but ensuring Namjoon that their phones would be on them in case he needed someone with him. No one was getting sleep tonight.

Before Namjoon could let his negativity flood him further, he felt your hand twitch between his and he sat up, looking at your face intently as you finally opened your eyes looking at him groggily.

“Oh thank fuck!” He exclaimed, standing up without letting go of your hand, instead squeezing it tighter as he looked over at you. Your other arm was in a cast, laying over your stomach, both your eyes bruised and swollen underneath, your nose still red as you looked at him with wide eyes. His heart pained as he looked at the evidence of his failings, but for you he smiled, small and not reaching his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” you whispered, your voice hoarse. Namjoon felt his heart race, like it was going to fall out of his chest, panic slowly rising.

“Who…? You don’t know me?”

“Wait… aren’t you famous?” You asked again and he dropped your hand in shock, shaking as he rushed towards the door. Memory loss? That wasn’t a symptom they mentioned. You didn’t have a concussion and it scared him that the doctors missed something, fear making him almost sprint the short the distance.

“What the fuck? Okay. Don’t worry. I’m going to get the doctor!”

Before he could reach the door, he heard you giggle, turning around in disbelief as he heard your next words. “Joon! Stop! I was kidding!”

“You were kidding? You were KIDDING?!” He almost yelled, before checking himself. His mouth hung open for a moment as you watched him walk towards you slowly and standing over you, his brows scrunched into a pained expression on his face. “Red. Red, Y/N. You can’t joke right now, do you know how scared I was?” He whispered, sudden relief turning into exhaustion as he felt his knees almost buckle. He had never felt this overwhelmed before.

“Hey. Joonie, baby. I’m sorry.” You called to him gently, reaching for him, your fingers squeezing reassuringly around his forearm that hung next to you. Hearing him call red made you feel suddenly guilty. Even in your worst fights where you were both screaming at each other, the most either of you had called for was yellow. You had only wanted to lighten his mood, crack a joke to make him smile for real but your post-anaesthesia brain couldn’t come up with anything better.

“You’re sorry?” He looked at you incredulously before his long arms were placed gingerly around your waist as his head reached for the crook of your neck, resting there and he inhaled. You smelt different, like disinfectant and he hated it, feeling his lip quiver as he spoke against your skin in quick, flurried words.. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, baby. Fuck! Why are you even with me? I literally put your life in danger! You should break up with me! You’re gonna have a gigantic scar and like metal inside you forever! You deserve so much -”

“Oh man! A scar? Who’s gonna marry me now?” You interrupted his rant and tried to make your voice lighter, wanting to ease his worries, assure him that you were back to normal. You looked at your useless right arm, wishing you could hug him but settled for slowly running your fingers through his hair with your left to calm him down.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll do it right now!” He moved his head away from your neck, leaning his weight on his hands that now rested next to you on the bed, looking at you intensely. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears and you felt your heart break. You cupped his face, your thumb stroking his cheek as you tried to comfort him.

“Come here. Lie down.” You winced a little as you scooted to the side despite his protests, making room for him. He reluctantly laid down, his head in the crook of your arm and his feet dangling off the end of the bed. You slowly caressed his shoulder and felt him relax as he nuzzled the side of your chest, his arm draping over your hips carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one that’s hurt.” His voice was small, muffled against you as his thumb traced meaningless patterns against you where it lay.

“Baby you literally asked me to break up with you and marry you in the same breath - you are not fine.” You spoke softly, your hand squeezing his shoulder as he took a shuddering breath. You looked at the dim tv that had the hospital’s menu channel on, displaying the time, 3:21 am. He argued not to worry about him, but you couldn’t help it. He had never looked more exhausted in your presence - even after twelve hours of dance practice on three hours of sleep, he didn’t look this drained. Your fingers moved upwards lightly scraping his scalp, his arm tightening around you, as you spoke. “I love you, you know that right?”

He sniffled, the hospital gown getting damp as he told you about his earlier worries. You hushed him, comforting him with words and coaxing him to sleep. His hand wrapped around the index finger poking out of your cast as he fell asleep after a while, his snores music to your ears. No matter what he believed, you still felt safe with him next to you.

———————————-

You looked at the soft light of dawn as it flows through the window, trying not to move as your arm throbbed in the cast. In the few hours since he fell asleep, Namjoon’s head had moved, now resting on your chest as his arm was draped over your hips, but he looked so peaceful that you dared not wake him up. You barely slept, your pain medication wearing off much too quickly. You had never broken a bone before, and as you thought about how dumb your fifth grade self was for wanting a cast, you wished your boyfriend would wake up at his own accord. You desperately needed to call the nurse for some paracetamol, but you grit your teeth and bore it. You knew you were being stupid and Namjoon would be genuinely pissed if he knew, but looking at his mouth hanging open as he drooled over you made you smile at the endearing picture infront of you.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), soon a nurse walked in for his morning rounds, waking up a groggy Namjoon who startled, almost falling off the bed, making you hiss as he accidentally held on too hard to your side to keep balance. He stood up, running his hands over his face in order to wake up properly while the nurse did the checkup, providing you with the pain killers you request. Once he leaves, Namjoon moves back to you, putting his arm under your head as this time you nuzzle into his chest. You talked about nothing as the drugs finally took effect, helping you doze off. Namjoon kissed the top of your head as you dropped off mid sentence, a smile on his face because you were alright, but a heaviness in his heart as he looked at the bruises on your face, dark blue and almost black.

———————————-

“Shh… Guys come on. Let her rest!”

Namjoon’s theatrical whisper is the first thing you hear when you wake up again. Your eyes open to your room filled with all your friends. The room had seemed extremely large the last time you were awake but now it seemed tiny. Jiyoung was sitting on the couch typing on her phone with a frown, an Apeach plush on her lap, next to her Siwon was talking animatedly with a tired looking Jungkook munching on some chips. The coffee table in front of them was full of snacks, gifts, and flowers. Seokjin, Yoongi and Jimin were talking about something hushed as they stood near the television, serious looks on their faces. Hoseok was bent over the humidifier in the corner which seemed turned off, messing with the controls and grumbling to himself. Harry sat in the chair next to the bed, talking to Namjoon with Jen standing over him with her hand on his shoulder. Namjoon sat on the bed near your legs, his hand on your calf, and Taehyung sat next to him clinging on his waist. Needless to say, it warmed your heart to see all the people you loved here. Maybe getting injured wasn’t that bad.

You winced as you moved up the bed to get more comfortable and suddenly all the attention was on you, the room turning into a cacophony of “How are you feeling?”s and “Are you okay?”s. Everyone was now crowded around the bed, looking at you with worry, Seokjin even handing you the RJ plush he’d brought along with him stating its healing powers. It was odd to be coddled by such a large group. Overwhelming, but in the best way.

“I’m fine guys. It’s just a broken arm.” You tried to diffuse the worries.

“You should look at your face dude.” Siwon stated, causing Namjoon to sigh, annoyed, and you to ask for a mirror. Oof you looked worse than you felt. By the bruises on your face it was a wonder how your nose wasn’t broken. Sheepishly you tried to explain to the group that it wasn’t that bad, but your friends were not convinced.

Soon the conversation turned from worries about you to who the attacker was in the first place. While you and Namjoon were in the hospital, Jungkook and Jimin had been to the police to give in-depth statements. Turns out Namjoon had a stalker - someone the company and security had been keeping an eye on for months, but who seemed to have fallen off the map 6 weeks ago. Apparently the same one who had caused the dates at the beginning of your relationship to always be under the watchful eye of his security team. No one knows how she had managed to break into the dorms but apparently she had been hiding out in his room for a week, his closet was full of tins of food she had consumed during her stay. It was surreal to hear that someone had been in the house and no one had noticed. It made sense to an extent - no one had been actively living in the dorms for a few weeks, especially not Namjoon so his room was never opened. The boys seemed extra distressed about it, and even thought themselves guilty. Namjoon’s words from last night echoed in your head. He put himself at fault, when really it was this woman’s fault.

No one knew what her plan was when Namjoon returned, and you didn’t want to find out. It might seem odd but you were glad that you were there to protect him in a sense. Apparently seeing you had started such a rage in her that she refused to talk further than the death threats she spewed against you. She was in jail and you hoped she stayed there for a long time.

“The police haven’t taken into account your assault. You should file a report.” Hoseok spoke for the first time, his face hardened. The room seemed in agreement, but you hesitated.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” you started, only for Namjoon, who was now seated next to you on the bed with his arm around you, to counter but you continued. “I’m just saying. Police records are public and if someone looks into this person who was charged with stalking Joon the same night as attacking me, they might put two and two together and I don’t want that to reflect on him or any of you guys.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Y/N?” It was Yoongi who spoke, clearly irritated and impatient. “Who cares about that? She attacked you, she deserves to be in jail.” His voice was quiet, but the frustration in his tone was not lost.

“She’s already in jail though… It’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Noona… I know it’s not our decision but you didn’t see yourself when she was attacking you.” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked at you with hurt in his eyes. “She deserves to pay for what she did…”

“Guys… I know you want the best for me, but it’s too risky… Even you all being here right now is too risky!” It was time for your voice to waver as you suddenly realized the impact of having all of them in the room. All it took was one shitty quality photo from a nurse’s Samsung to ruin their image. You didn’t know how you’d be able to handle it if you were responsible for their first big scandal.

“Okay. I’m going to stop you right there. This is a private place we always use. This is not a risk.” Seokjin spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if trying to explain the situation to a five year old. He didn’t do it in a condescending manner, more to make you understand. “Please stop worrying about us. Our company has stopped way bigger scandals from surfacing. Namjoon, can you please make her understand?”

Namjoon sighed loudly next to you, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer. It felt comforting, but you still felt slightly cornered. You just couldn’t see the logic in what they were saying. The attacker’s jail time would probably not change much with an assault added, at least you didn’t think so - so why was this a big deal.

“It’s her choice, hyung. I’m not going to force her to press charges if she doesn’t want to.” Namjoon looked steely at his member, before turning to you and softening. “But Y/N, I really do want you to make that decision without thinking of me or the rest of us. Can you do that?”

“No. Sorry. I can’t.” You were adamant and now you were starting to get annoyed. Namjoon was right - it was your choice - and it felt nice to have him on your side, at least partially, through this argument, but it didn’t make sense not to make it an isolated discussion. “You’re part of the situation and I can’t just make the decision without adding you to it. I’m not pressing charges.”

You heard a loud snort from Yoongi. “Why are you being an idiot?” He spoke to which Hoseok vocally agreed, causing you to almost yell your explanation in exasperation, before Harry broke the argument asking everyone to take a break and to lay off you.

There was thick tension in the room and it seemed to have sapped the air out of you. You felt uneasy, like no matter how deeply you inhaled you were breathless. You felt claustrophobic suddenly, squeezing Namjoon’s thigh, trying to control your heartbeat. Namjoon saw the distress on your face, immediately requesting everyone to move outside. It didn’t take them long to leave and somehow that helped you feel calmer.

When the room was empty, Namjoon looked at you. Turning to him, you buried your face in his chest, squishing the white alpaca between you and moving your injured arm on his stomach to hug him, despite the sharp pain that made you hiss. Breathing in his scent, somehow made the stress of last night catch up to and you cried. Namjoon held your head gently to his chest as you tangled your legs in his, wanting to almost disappear into him. You didn’t know why you were suddenly crying, but you couldn’t help it - it was like a dam broke, like you were leaking, your emotions cascading out of you onto Namjoon’s sweater. You couldn’t control your sobs and you wondered how loud you were being.

Namjoon felt his heart break as he held you. He had only seen you cry like this once -  the night he asked you to be his girlfriend - and it pained him that he was partially responsible for your tears today. He didn’t know what to do other than whisper “you’re safe now” repeatedly against your hair as you clung to him clumsily. He shouldn’t have let everyone visit so soon. He should’ve thought ahead. Of course you were overwhelmed, you were traumatized. He was an idiot.

When you calmed down enough to look at him, he wiped your tears gently, barely even touching your skin, and handed you some water from the bedside table. He tried to assure you the best he could, interrupted intermittently by nurses and discharge forms. He didn’t bring up pressing charges again and you were grateful to him for that.

He helped you change into clothes Siwon had picked up for you, insisting you take the wheelchair to the car despite your protests (“My arm’s broken, not my leg Joonie!”). Before you entered your apartment Namjoon asked his security team to do a sweep. You would never admit it to him but having the place checked out before you entered made you extremely relieved. You knew it was irrational to think you’d have another stalker waiting for you but it genuinely made you feel lighter, your anxiety ebbing away.

He spent the next few hours quietly worrying about little things, changing the code to your door, checking every lock, making you tea, and even cleaning your place to ensure you had “optimum comfort”, while forcing you to stay in bed regardless of your protests. After a while you couldn’t take him running around and murmuring to himself, especially when he decided to order from six restaurants for dinner. Walking into the kitchen where he obsessively cleaned a single spot on the countertop, you pulled him away.

“Joonie. Stop.” you gently touched his hand, startling him anyways as he looked at you in alarm.

“Oh. Do you need anything? Tell me, I’ll get it. Water? Bathroom?” He bent down slightly to look you in the eyes, searching your face for any discomfort.

“Namjoon, I have a broken arm, I’m not an invalid.” You rolled your eyes. It was sweet that he was this concerned but you seriously needed him to stop running around worried.

“Wait, you said Namjoon. Are you mad at me?” He looked alarmed, his eyes wide. Now that you looked at him closely, he didn’t seem to be doing too well either. His eyes seemed sunken behind his glasses, the crease between his eyebrow deep, and his stubble growing out more than you’d ever seen. You wondered if he got much sleep after you dozed off this morning. He even seemed skinnier somehow, though you chalk that up to your imagination.

“No baby I’m not mad at you. Just stop… obsessing. I’m fine. I swear.” You cupped his face with your working hand, thumb circling his cheekbones in an effort to relax him. He leaned in closing his eyes.

“Oh… oh. I just want to show you I love you. You know like you do…” He mumbled in a slight pout, averting your gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

“You always take care of me when I’m down. I want to take care of you.” You felt your heart glow in your chest. Sometimes you forget how much you love this man, but sometimes he says things that, for a lack of a better analogy, punch you in the face, reminding you why you love him. You wrap your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face into his chest, as he tentatively puts his arm around your head.

“You don’t need to deep clean my kitchen to take care of me babe. Just sit next to me. Let’s watch a movie.” You lean away from his chest to tell him, trying to tug his unmovable body towards the living room.

“Are you sure? I’m almost done. Just this one stain…” He lets go of you to grab the wipe again, only for you to pull at his hand.

“Joon. Leave it.” You say sternly, holding his hand as you lean up. “Kiss me.”

“What? No. You’re hurt.” He moves back and you have to convince your irrational feelings that he wasn’t rejecting you, he was worried about you.

“If it hurts, I’ll tell you.”

“No you won’t. I know you.”

“Joonie!” you whine and he relents, although it’s not a kiss you were hoping for. He settles for a series of small pecks against your lips, so light that you barely felt him. Sure even puckering your lips was slightly painful but you were annoyed, rolling your eyes at his lame attempt. And this was the man who had spanked you so hard once that you couldn’t sit without wincing for two days. The audacity.

Before you could protest he walked with you to the living room and turned on Netflix. Picking a brainless comedy, you forced him to lie down on your lap and even before the title had come up he was asleep.

———————————-

“What wrong baby?” Namjoon came from the studio to find you lying on the ground still dressed in your pajamas with half your hair tied lopsidedly as you whined at seemingly no one, ignoring Moni as he licked your face. If he wasn’t worried that you somehow fell, he would find the sight of you throwing a tantrum like a toddler adorable.

It had been three days since you returned from the hospital, but Namjoon hadn’t seen you looking this dejected before. You had been completely normal on Sunday, even agreeing to the guys coming over for dinner so they could apologize for their behaviour at the hospital. You had riffed like usual, making fun of Jin and Yoongi as they cooked even though it seemed like you itched to get in the kitchen and help, even getting especially giddy as your childhood dream of getting a cast signed by your friends was fulfilled. The next two days, despite everyone’s insistence you had returned to work, working from home. Fortunately Harry and Siwon had rescheduled or taken over all your client meetings to lighten your load. Namjoon had returned to work too but made sure to text you throughout the day and had spent every night with you, regardless of your protests of being an “independent woman that needs no man”.

“I hate this! I’m so frustrated! I feel useless and gross!” you whined as you thrash around on the floor comically with the biggest pout he had ever seen you sport. Dropping his bag near the door and trying not to chuckle at your cute behaviour, Namjoon walked over to you kneeling next to you.

“Aww baby come here” He opened his arms invitingly as you sat up, only for you to sit crossed leg in front of him to begin your rant. Moni moves between your legs and you scratch his head absent-mindedly.

“No! I can’t attend any meetings till my face doesn’t look like fight club, I can’t shower for two more days, I can’t cook because of this dumbass arm, I can’t even tie my hair! TIE MY HAIR, JOON. I’M UGLY, USELESS AND DISGUSTING. Please leave me in my misery.”

Your face turned red as you continued listing minor inconveniences that your broken arm bestowed upon you as Namjoon made his way behind you and put his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. Instantly you relax, huffing as you leaned into his chest. Today has been tough for you. You had spent two hours on a call relaying your game plan for a potential client to Harry and walking him through his nerves about the meeting, which drained you mentally. Your laptop had restarted two times without warning, your roomba had gotten stuck under the couch and you couldn’t reach for it, you had almost fallen in the toilet because the seat was up, you ran out of coffee, and to top it all off it took you ages to write anything with your left hand alone. You felt miserable and dejected.

“You’re beautiful. My slightly stir-crazy, extremely capable, beautiful girlfriend.” Namjoon kissed your cheek as you turned your head to scowl at him, not buying his flattery. He traced your features gently. He wasn’t lying, even with your face patchy with your yellowing bruise and a scab on your lip, you were beautiful to him and he felt his heart swell the longer he looked at your face. He still had trouble believing that you were with him.

“You’re only saying that cause you love me.” You whisper softly as you avert his gaze before starting to whine again as you adjusted your sling. “Ugh I just want to eat McDonald’s and die.”

“Not going to let you die, but let’s get nuggets.”

———————————-

“Baby I got us Chinese!” Namjoon called out as he walked in your home, hands full of takeout. Hearing no answer he called out again to hear your voice coming from the bedroom.

“Joonie! Crawl under here!” He saw you emerge clumsily from the floor, cast pulled close to your chest, as he entered the room where you had piled the blankets between the edge of the bed and the chairs that you had brought near it. “I made us a fort!”

Your giggles made his heart sing as he grinned and crawled under the fort, taking care not to knock it down. You had brought the lamp from the side table under as well, lighting the small space with a soft glow. He could barely sit up, his height making it difficult not to knock down your creation so he opted for laying down, his head on your thigh as you played with his hair. He sighed in content. It felt somewhat meditative sitting in silence with you under the many sheets, the pile of soft pillows in the corner adding extra coziness.

Soon you’re laying side by side, your fingers intertwined as you bounced your hands against each other. You were both looking at the makeshift comforter ceiling, soft smiles on your faces.

“Why the sudden fort?” Namjoon asks after a while, almost in a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of comfort you both were under.

“I don’t know… It’s stupid.” He turns on his side to face you, cupping your face to make you look at him. It’s the look he always gives you whenever you doubt yourself. A look that says I’m here for you, I’ll never judge you. “I used to build these when I was a kid and missed my mom… I guess I’m feeling kind of homesick. I know it’s dumb.” You chuckle a little at how childish your comments seemed. You were almost thirty and talking about missing your mom.

Namjoon hadn’t thought of this before - the fact that Seoul wasn’t truly your home. Sure you had introduced your mom to him over Skype a few times but he thought about how much he missed Seoul when on tour, did you miss Toronto that way too? You always seemed so content in Seoul, so content with your friends that he never thought about how your family wasn’t there.

“We can go visit home if you want?” He kisses your lips chastely as he continues, his nose nuzzling yours. “I can take a few days off. I’d like to meet your mom in person.”

“We don’t have to. I’m just being a baby.” You laughed as you moved closer and he put his arm under your head to pull you into his chest. You knew this bout was homesickness was temporary, but Namjoon’s words made your heart glow in your chest. It had been two weeks since your attack and although Namjoon had been a rock, helping you with everything from ensuring that you ate to shaving your under arms, you were nostalgic about when you were sick during high school and your mom would take the day off work to take you on a drive, buying you ice cream and snacks that definitely did not help your illness. His idea wasn’t a bad one but with how your injury had messed up your work schedule, you didn’t think you could take time off for a while, and you told him as much. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence again after that, dinner forgotten on the kitchen counter, as you laid under the blankets soaking in the cozy atmosphere.

Caressing your hip slowly where your shirt ended, Namjoon cleared his throat slightly, breaking the spell before he spoke in another whisper. “I could be your home… if you want.”

Moving your head from his chest you look up to find him gazing at you with a soft smile as he turns on his side again. You follow suit, the fingers of your uninjured hand tracing his chest where it stuck between the two of you. Your heart beat faster as you slowly comprehended what he meant, but you still needed him to clarify. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Namjoon was nervous - more nervous than he had been on your first date, more nervous than he had been when he asked you to be his girlfriend, more nervous than he had been after your first fight. The last two weeks had been some of his favourite with you, regardless of the circumstances that landed him there. He liked coming home to you every night, arguing over what to have for dinner, waking up each morning with his arms around you. You technically didn’t need him around anymore, your schedule was back to normal and you were more than used to navigating with one hand, but he didn’t want to go back to seeing you once or twice a week. How could he do that when he could see you everyday? The domesticity of your morning routines of coffee and reading the news together that had once scared him, were things he craved now. He even loved your playlist of the week startling him awake.

Your prolonged silence made his heart race as he bit his lip in anticipation. Before he could take back his question with a joke, you kissed him. Your lips molded around his tenderly as you took his lower lip between yours, relishing his strawberry lip balm. You break the kiss to whisper a soft yes, barely audible over the sound of your heart in your ears, and Namjoon couldn’t help breaking into a fit of giggles, his forehead against yours as he pulled you closer. He tried to control his reaction but the happiness flowing through him made him feel like he was floating.

“And they were roommates!” You made the dated reference as you giggled along with him.

“You are such a dork. I love you.” He said as he brought his lips back on yours.

“Yeah, your dork!”

“All mine.” He smiled, his eyes disappearing as his cheeks hurt from the joy he felt.

–

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[specialmindz]

“Mmm *POMP!* this some good milk, Snas,” said Papyrus, shuffling around in his brother’s makeshift backpack. It wasn’t very comfortable, but as long as he didn’t have to crawl…

“eh, i prefer hot chocolate myself,” replied Sans. “glad you like your milk baby bro, i was worried about how it’d do in the microwave cause’ of all the chemicals, but you’re not dead yet so…”

“Daddy say is okay to put mah super milk in da’ mikeywave…or is I baby guinea pig?” Papyrus narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“guinea pigs are cute pap!”

“…”

Sans blew on his hot chocolate for what seemed like the sixth time. He didn’t put his drink in the microwave like Papyrus’s, he preferred to use boiled water as the cold weather of Snowdin usually cooled it off without him having to do anything.

Today though, they weren’t going to Snowdin, plans had changed.

Alphys had always had a messy workspace, but the Nursery, according to her, was in worse shape. FAR worse shape. She didn’t mind the broken toys scattered everywhere seeing as it wasn’t her room, but the fact that the toys came from the Dump meant they smelled terrible. Sans and the rest of the family were either nose-blind to it, or simply didn’t care, but Alphys couldn’t stand it. She complained weekly about the stench, claiming it was getting worse and worse, seeping from underneath the Nursery door and distracting her from work, but no one would do anything about it.

Today, SHE took the initiative and decided to spray the Nursery with every air freshener they had, making it impossible and even dangerous to sleep in the room; that meant that not only did they have to find a new place to sleep, but Baby Papyrus also missed his nap.

Not good.      

“You an idiot,” mumbled the cranky infant, unhappy to be a baby guinea pig.

“whatever.”

“Lazy idiot stink head with stupid broke gloves…”

“heh ha! they’re not broke pappy, that’s how they’re SUPPOSED to look. these are fingerless gloves,” explained Sans, hoping to laugh away his irritation. Papyrus wasn’t having it though.

“Your gloves dumb like you.”

“they’re not dumb! i think they make me look cool…”

“They make you look homeless. I half aspect you to be shaking a tin can around, asking for monies.”

“Screw you, Papyrus.”

“Is I your bindle, big Buther? You’s supposed to carry me on a stick…”

“SHUT UP, PAPYRUS.”

“Can you do da’ har-mon-ica? Pay a song for the baby.”

The young comedian quickened his pace towards the Resort Area. “i’ll pay you a beating, you keep mouthing off,” mumbled Sans under his breath.  

“Ooooh, Buther think he tough now cause’ he gots biker gloves! Nyeh heh heh, what gang you from, Snas? Pussies of Anarchy? Renegade Rejects?”

San didn’t reply, he merely pushed open the doors of the Resort and went inside, not wanting to travel all the way to Snowdin’s hotel or teleport whilst carrying his brother in a bag rather than his arms. He knew for a fact that anything touching his body would travel with him, but what about the things that weren’t? Or the things he wasn’t holding on to purposely?

It’s not like I’ve ever lost anything in my pockets when I take my shortcuts, but I still don’t feel comfortable with something so precious in such a flimsy bag…

“Harlem’s Asshats?”

Hm…maybe “precious” isn’t the right word to use for Pap.  

Sans grimaced as Papyrus continued to complain and come up with more insulting gang names. He himself was a complainer when HE didn’t get enough sleep, but Papyrus?

“Big-butted Bums of Bloomington!”

His brother REALLY sucked when he missed his nap. He was loud, angry, and mean. Babies weren’t supposed to miss their daily naps and baby bones already had hot tempers to begin with…

TA-TAP, TA-TAP!

The Receptionist, a monster with a giant hand in place of her head, tapped her red painted nails on the counter impatiently, a strange sight for those who weren’t used to seeing it. “Do you need a room you two?”

TA-TAP, TA-TAP!

“No, I needs a doctor cause’ Snas give me irradiated milk!” Papyrus tried to point his finger accusingly at his brother, but found it next to impossible in his current position, so instead he threw his bottle on the ground.

“NYEH!”

CAP, CAP!

It bounced along the tile floor, empty despite his whining, and rolled to a stop before a janitor, who kindly picked it up. “Ah-hawww, looks like you’ve got a fussy baby on your hands!” chuckled the employee, returning the bottle.

CAP, CAP, CAP!

“HAHAHAHA!”

“PAPYRUS! i’m so sorry sir-”

“Oh, don’t be, it’s what I get paid for after all! It’s best you get that little guy to bed though…”

“NOT TIRED!”

Sans took the bottle from the janitor and put it in his pocket. Even if his brother were telling the truth, he knew the Lying Font was still going to ACT tired, and a tired baby was a cranky baby. For Papyrus, a missed nap was all the excuse in the world to be a douche, and Sans would rather fork over 400g then listen to his crap.

Lucky for us, children get discounts.

TA-TAP, TA-TAP!

“STOP HEADBUTTING DA’ TABLE NAIL LADY! IF AZZY NOT ALLOWED TO, YOU NOT ALLOWED TO!”

“E-excuse me?”

“just ignore him, miss-”

“When Azzy be small like me, he used to headbutt the desk. You not remember Nail-Lady? You was all like, ‘STOP ATTACKING THE DESK GOAT-BABY!’ and Moo-Mom say, ‘HOW DARE YOU YELL AT MAH BABY LIKE DAT!?’ and then Fluffy Buns say ‘settle down now ladies, is not that serious,” said Papyrus, voice acting each line. He’d been doing that a lot as of late, trying to “perfect his mimicry for when he got big” and by extension, he ended up disturbing those unfortunate enough to hear him. Asgore’s loud booming voice coming from such a small baby was…eerie…and it was even worse when he decided to imitate Sans...

The receptionist doesn’t have a face, but I bet she’s as uncomfortable as I am right now.

…

…

How do I get bro to stop talking though?

“…Then you got all mad Nail-Lady and say ‘HE DO DIS ERYTIME HE HERE! WHY YOU CAN’T CONTROL YO’ KID? ERYBODY ELSE CONTROL THEIR KID! YOU THINK JUST CAUSE’ YOU THE KING YOU CAN DESTROY? NOT ERYBODY WICH LIKE YOU!”

“…I actually DO remember,” said the receptionist. “Someone, who used to do that. Yes…there was a small child with an entitled mother who used to headbutt and jump atop the furniture…”

Who was that?

“Yep! I’s there too with Chara, so I knows! You and the Moo Lady used to argue about discounts-”

“Oh my goodness, you’re right!” the woman suddenly remembered. “There was a woman who claimed she should only have to pay the regular 400g because you weren’t her child and THEN she got upset when I AGREED and asked you for 200g-”

“HOW YOU GONNA ASK A BABY FOR MONIES? BABIES SHOULD GET IN FREE! YOU DOESN’T EVEN GOTS CWIBS!”  

“That’s EXACTLY how it went, every single time. It was always the same argument.” The monster, who prided herself on her professionalism, could feel herself getting angry all over again, her old forgotten hatred bubbling to the surface. She couldn’t stand the Royal Family. The Entitled Mother, the Spinless Husband, the Destructive Child…and if she recalled, the human they adopted was an actual thief…

“Yep, and Chara was all like ‘don’t be a bitch, bitch’ and da’ Cow Lady say ‘I agwees, but I doesn’t ah-pea-ciate yo’ language my child,’ and Chara go ‘I was talking to youuuu-”

“hey pap-”

“Fluffy Buns smacked them right on the butt! It was funny.”

“Yes…Chara was their name…the thieving human who kept getting in trouble with security. They would go into other people’s rooms and take their things like it was okay and the mother-”

“She say, ‘Oh Chara just curious, you should be more patient wit yo’ customers! Da’ world of monsters be new to them ya’ know? They just a child…!”

“…”

Sans didn’t know how she was doing it, but he could have sworn he heard growling coming from the woman’s direction.

“ha ha…hey uh, bro? let’s just get us a room already, yeah? i’m sure the receptionist here is busy-”

“TWO WOOMS PEAS!” yelled the infant. “One for the baby and one for the Pussy of Anarchy.”

“damnit pap…!”

“Very well, that’ll be 400g then.”

Glaring over his shoulder, Sans forked over the money and headed to their room. “now bro, there are other people in this resort so try not to be a dick, alright? we need to be quiet-”

“WAIT SNAS!” the baby bones picked himself up out of the bag with his wingdings. “I gots to visit the fountain real quick.”

“Oh uh, please don’t urinate in the fountain,” said the receptionist raising a finger. “The rooms have toilets in them.”

“I’s not a gross peepee-baby Nail-Lady, don’t you know a cute widdle skelly when you sees one? I’s looking for coins-”

“Absolutely not!” cried the woman, her tone taking a sudden turn. “This fountain is a memorial to…someone. It is strictly forbidden to gather the coins within, read the sign!” The monster pointed at a sign that said “Stay Out of the Fountain.” Apparently, people were so desperate, they were stealing G from the memorial…

“I NEEDS EM’ TO PAY SNAS BACK!” yelled Papyrus, wondering how much 200g was.

“READ. THE. SIGN. THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE!” she replied, shouting just as loud. Clearly theft was a daily problem for her.

“heh heh, you don’t need to pay me back lil’ bro, thanks though.”

That was…unexpectedly sweet.

“I’s not a deadbeat big Buther…also, I can’t reads so dat sign don’t apply to me.”

“THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!”

“you do too know how to read, quit your lying pap,” said Sans chuckling.

“I’s not lying, I’s a baby and babies don’t read. Erybody knows that! Isn’t that right Nail- Lady?”

“I just told you what it said, get away from that fountain!”

“Babies also have poor memor-ies. I doesn’t remember what you said,” Papyrus used his wingdings to scoop up a handful of coins and deposited them into his onesie to count later. “I’s very sorry for da’ inco-venience.”

“PUT THOSE BACK OR I’LL HAVE TO ASK YOU TWO TO LEAVE!”

“uh, okay pappy this is getting serious, let’s just put the pretty coins back like the nice lady said…”

“Is serious? THEN WE SERIOUSLY WANT OUR MONIES BACK,” said Papyrus, angrily. Here he was being a good bae, paying back his big brother, (something babies did NOT have to do) and this big person wanted to yell at him?

CLEARLY, she was a baby-hater and didn’t deserve to have such cute guests staying at her gaudy hotel.

“We take back our monies and we go somewhere that ah-pea-ciates sweet babies such as ourselves. Your hotel ugly anyway…too bright, right Snas? We leave.”

“no no no, we don’t need to do that!” said Sans quickly in a panic.

“FINE, TAKE IT AND GO!”

WHAP!

The receptionist slammed the money down on the counter.

I’m so sick of serving thieves…

“wha-ho, lady! let’s just calm down alright? *sigh* geeze…” Sans scratched behind his skull. “why don’t we come to a compromise? that sound good?”

I CAN’T take Pappy to that inn in Snowdin again, I didn’t sleep at all last time!

The comedian winced, remembering the night he spent there with Papyrus. The infant didn’t like the snoring from the other guests in the room.

“Nyeh? Com-per-mize…? Waz dat?”

“it’s a negotiation,” explained Sans. “where arguing people get a little bit of what they want, so everyone’s happy…ish.”

TA-TAP! TA-TAP!

“Okay Snas, I do da’ com-per-mize cause’ I’s a good bae,” said Papyrus sweetly. Seemed he was done acting cranky for the day…or so Sans hoped.

“good boy, pappy! GOOD babies compromise allll the time.”

“No they don’t, but Imma make an ah-ception cause’ I doesn’t like the snoring baes in Snowdin. Remember them Snas? The snoring bunny baes?”

“heh heh, yep, iiiii remember.”

“You can’t tell a sweepy baby to shut the fuk up, cause’ they just babies, so we get no sweep and the Inn lady get all our monies for fee! Is a scam, I KNOWS it!”

“Put the coins back please,” said the receptionist, no longer interested in Papyrus’s stories.

“Kay’. Papyrus picked himself up out of the fountain and waddled over to the counter, his onesie jiggling with coins and leaving a wet trail behind him. I gots a good idea for a com-per-mize Nail-Lady.”

“I thought you were going to put the coins back?”

“Slow yo’ roll woman, we makes a commerize first-”

“compromise’ bro.”

Papyrus ignored him. “I’ll put the coins back like you say…and in return for being a good baby bones, I gets a fee room, kay’? Dat sound like a good commercialize?”  

“…No.”

“*pfft!* papyrus-”

“Why not Nail-Lady? It solve both our problems, yes? Why you so unreason-able?”

The receptionist sighed and hung her head, her energy for the day having been completely drained.

I forgot how terrible this infant was, all he does is talk and make things worse. Why is he even here? Doesn’t he have a mother and father to go home to?

Ugh, he’s still going...

“…Good babies get rewards Nail-Lady, is the law. Dat’s how we learns to be good people’s ya’ know? I do something good…then I gets a reward, then I be good again to get another reward. You see where I’s going with dis?”

“There’s a difference between a reward and a bribe, child-”

“I’s not a child, I’s a baby! How you gonna learn if you no listen? BIG people’s get bribes, BABIES get rewards-”

“bro, stop, it’s okay,” said Sans picking up his brother. “i’ll pay your way and if you really want to return the debt, you can pay me back with your OWN mon-”

“Except ugly babies like Snas, they get nothing.”

“…you know what? nevermind, you can sleep out here like the bum you’re destined to be." He put Papyrus back down.

“I can join your gang…?”

“no, we’re full.”

“Bums of Bloomington full?”

“yyyep.”

“Kick someone out.”

CA-CLACK!

The receptionist pressed the security button underneath her desk.

“why should i? you don’t have biker gloves and you’re mean.”

“Baby not mean! Also, I’s family and family comes first. Kick someone out.”

“no.”

CLANK, CLANK, CLANK!

The two boys stopped fighting and grew silent as a giant knight in black armor approached the counter.

“*Yawn* ………Is there a problem ma’am?”

“Yes, there is,” replied the receptionist. “That baby is stealing from the fountain…and apparently the other one is in a gang-”

“what? no i’m not! papyrus is lying!”

“Nope, is true all right. My big Buther a rebel! He drive his motorcycle around at night when is bedtime.”

“no i don’t, shut up papyrus!”

“……...Is this true?”

Sans gave the knight an irritated look, “why don’t you tell me? why don’t you tell me where i can ride a motorbike without filling the underground with carbon dioxide? why don’t you tell me where i can get one whose pedals i can even reach? where i can get one PERIOD-”    

“……...You don’t need to be a smartass.”

“…”

“………Please return the coins.”

“…”

“Why you gots so many ellipses in yo’ text Knight-Lady? You sweepy too?” The baby bones crawled over to the sleepy giant and gave her the coins in his onesie. “Here you go Heavy-Lady, now you can affords to sweep like us!”

“that’s very sweet, pappy-”

Papyrus turned to the receptionist, “NOW baby gets a fee room?”

“*sigh*”

Damnit bro…

“…No.”

“Nyeh? Why not? I WAS GOOD, GOD DAMNS IT!”

“Get out.”  

“NYEHHHHAAAAHHHH!!”

“papyrus, you don’t need to scream-”

KA-CHUR-GERGERGER!

Taking out a coin pouch, the knight poured some G onto the receptionist’s counter, “…400g right?”

“You don’t have to do that Knight Knight-”

“Yes, I do,” replied the armored monster, handing over the coins Papyrus gave her. “It’s a knight’s duty to help those in need…and we live in times where money is scarce…” She looked down at the skeletal children. “…Remember these words well…following the rules may make others happy and keep the peace, but if it comes at the cost of your or another person’s survival…ignore them.”

“…”

“…”

And with that, Knight Knight walked back to her post, leaving the receptionist alone with the two brothers.

The hand monster wasn’t angry anymore, in fact, she felt a bit guilty and embarrassed over her previous behavior. It was true that the coins in the fountain were people’s wishes…and it was part of her job to make sure people treated those wishes and the memorial with respect, but when looking at the big picture and thinking about WHY so many thieves were running about, well, it was clear who the bad guy was.

“I apologize for my previous behavior,” said the receptionist bowing low. “I’d forgotten that rules were made to help others, not act as bait for the desperate. There’s no point in a memorial if there’s no one left to honor it.”

How many people have starved to death for my job?

She winced and shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of such thoughts. What was done was done, all she could do now was change so it never happened again.

“Is okay Nail-Lady!” said Papyrus petting her back with his wingdings, “It’s your intentions dat count, not what you do.”

“that’s true. as long as you’re at least TRYING to do the right thing, you’re still a good person. mistakes are mistakes, ya’ know? you shouldn’t be punished for something you didn’t MEAN to do, ain’t that right pap?”

“Daz right big Buther! Now give us da’ key.”

“say please.”

“No.”

The woman handed the baby bones, who had taken the liberty of climbing onto the counter, the key to their room. “Please enjoy your stay.”

“YAAAASS! C’MON SNAS, IS TIME FOR YO’ NAP!”

“you mean it’s time for OUR nap, pappy.”

“NOT TIRED!”

As the boys headed to their room, the receptionist left her post and walked towards the fountain, removing the sign.

It was never put up again.

[joheun-saram]

To Make A Power Couple (knj) | 7

Chapter 7: Blanket Forts

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Summary- At the hospital, Namjoon tries to make sense of what transpired as Y/N recovers.

word count- 6k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, strangers2lovers

warnings- violence, blood, stalker, hospital, extremely fluffy scenes of Joon as a caretaker

a.n- wow i literally wrote this the fastest i’ve written any chapter! i hope you like it. although there is angst there is also a lot of tooth rotting fluff. special s/o to @jungkooksbroski for beta reading this 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

—

Namjoon held your hand in both of his, his forehead resting upon them, as he waited for you to wake up from surgery, the beep of the heart monitor far too loud and ominous. His hood was on his head as his elbows dug into the ratty blue basketball shorts he had thrown on in a hurry. Even though the doctors had assured him that you were going to be fine, he was still worried. He couldn’t believe that you had gotten hurt at his own house of all places and he felt responsible as he replayed the scene in his head.

You looked so small next to the woman attacking you, it made his blood run cold. She was easily twice your size and the malice her gaze held was frightening. He barely registered her presence, how could she have been in his room the whole time he was home? Why didn’t he put his bags away so he could have caught her before she attacked? Why didn’t he hear someone else was home? He remembered hearing a noise while starting food prep and he assumed it was Moni just messing around. How stupid he had been. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, wasn’t it his responsibility to protect you?

He wasn’t even fast enough to pull her off you. He remembers time slowing down, his arms around the intruder as he tried his best to move her away but she seemed to be on a rampage, stomping on your arm. He remembers the moment her heavy boots almost flattened your arm. It was as if she wore them for the occasion. How did she even get in? He had never been happier to have Jungkook and Jimin around. If it weren’t for their help, he doesn’t even want to imagine how he would have managed. He could still feel the adrenaline in his body, hours later. The guards downstairs had been quick to arrive and he remembers sitting in his underwear trying to wake you up as he watched your arm twisted in an unnatural angle. Your scream still ricocheted through his head and he held your hand tighter, wishing you’d wake up already. The doctor had said it would take a couple of hours but he was on edge. 

“But I love you!” the intruder had screamed as she was being dragged off by the guards and Namjoon hated his fame once again. He hated that it affected you, that it hurt you. If he was a nobody, you would’ve never been in this situation. You deserve someone who could hold your hand in public without fear that it might cause a controversy. Someone who you could show off at your events, someone you could travel with, someone who could take you out at normal hours to exhibits and didn’t have to sneak around with at concerts. Someone who screamed his love from rooftops, unlike him who only hid you away.

“Hyung. She’s okay. The doctor said she will be okay.” Jimin spoke softly, his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders as he hugged him back, feeling dizzy. Across from him Jungkook paced in the deluxe private hospital room that their company had reserved for them. The big room had a large bed, couch and television. Its warm wood furnishing and several fake plants were meant to emit a feeling of warmth but regardless of the size or decor, Namjoon felt like he was suffocating.

“She’s in surgery. Surgery. Because of me. Jimin what do I do?” He could feel a lump in his throat as he tried to stay strong. He knew logically that you would be fine, but all he could think was 1%. That’s what the doctor said the chance was of anything going wrong. He knew that millions of people broke their arms and were perfectly fine after a few months but you were his one in a million. The fact that he even met you was so random that he thought it fate. You always managed to do the impossible and in his emotional state that 1% chance was too large. Far too large.

Yoongi had arrived shortly after Jimin messaged the group about the home invasion and he stood next to Jimin and Namjoon, his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder as he tried to force him to drink water. The three men tried to reassure Namjoon in vain as he finally let go of Jimin to sit on the couch, his eyes glued to the door, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater as his leg bounced on its own accord. 

After almost two hours he saw the door open as you were brought in on a stretcher, still asleep as the nurses moved you to the bed, checking your vitals. Yoongi had to physically restrain Namjoon from running over to you so the workers could do their job, but as soon as they were gone, he was by your side.

You were okay. Nothing went wrong and it felt like a boulder had been lifted off his shoulders as he all but collapsed, holding your hand, his head gingerly resting on your stomach. The boys bid him goodbye soon after making sure he was okay, giving the two of you privacy but ensuring Namjoon that their phones would be on them in case he needed someone with him. No one was getting sleep tonight.

Before Namjoon could let his negativity flood him further, he felt your hand twitch between his and he sat up, looking at your face intently as you finally opened your eyes looking at him groggily.

“Oh thank fuck!” He exclaimed, standing up without letting go of your hand, instead squeezing it tighter as he looked over at you. Your other arm was in a cast, laying over your stomach, both your eyes bruised and swollen underneath, your nose still red as you looked at him with wide eyes. His heart pained as he looked at the evidence of his failings, but for you he smiled, small and not reaching his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” you whispered, your voice hoarse. Namjoon felt his heart race, like it was going to fall out of his chest, panic slowly rising. 

“Who…? You don’t know me?”

“Wait… aren’t you famous?” You asked again and he dropped your hand in shock, shaking as he rushed towards the door. Memory loss? That wasn’t a symptom they mentioned. You didn’t have a concussion and it scared him that the doctors missed something, fear making him almost sprint the short the distance.

“What the fuck? Okay. Don’t worry. I’m going to get the doctor!”

Before he could reach the door, he heard you giggle, turning around in disbelief as he heard your next words. “Joon! Stop! I was kidding!”

“You were kidding? You were KIDDING?!” He almost yelled, before checking himself. His mouth hung open for a moment as you watched him walk towards you slowly and standing over you, his brows scrunched into a pained expression on his face. “Red. Red, Y/N. You can’t joke right now, do you know how scared I was?” He whispered, sudden relief turning into exhaustion as he felt his knees almost buckle. He had never felt this overwhelmed before.

“Hey. Joonie, baby. I’m sorry.” You called to him gently, reaching for him, your fingers squeezing reassuringly around his forearm that hung next to you. Hearing him call red made you feel suddenly guilty. Even in your worst fights where you were both screaming at each other, the most either of you had called for was yellow. You had only wanted to lighten his mood, crack a joke to make him smile for real but your post-anaesthesia brain couldn’t come up with anything better. 

“You’re sorry?” He looked at you incredulously before his long arms were placed gingerly around your waist as his head reached for the crook of your neck, resting there and he inhaled. You smelt different, like disinfectant and he hated it, feeling his lip quiver as he spoke against your skin in quick, flurried words.. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, baby. Fuck! Why are you even with me? I literally put your life in danger! You should break up with me! You’re gonna have a gigantic scar and like metal inside you forever! You deserve so much -”

“Oh man! A scar? Who’s gonna marry me now?” You interrupted his rant and tried to make your voice lighter, wanting to ease his worries, assure him that you were back to normal. You looked at your useless right arm, wishing you could hug him but settled for slowly running your fingers through his hair with your left to calm him down.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll do it right now!” He moved his head away from your neck, leaning his weight on his hands that now rested next to you on the bed, looking at you intensely. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears and you felt your heart break. You cupped his face, your thumb stroking his cheek as you tried to comfort him.

“Come here. Lie down.” You winced a little as you scooted to the side despite his protests, making room for him. He reluctantly laid down, his head in the crook of your arm and his feet dangling off the end of the bed. You slowly caressed his shoulder and felt him relax as he nuzzled the side of your chest, his arm draping over your hips carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one that’s hurt.” His voice was small, muffled against you as his thumb traced meaningless patterns against you where it lay. 

“Baby you literally asked me to break up with you and marry you in the same breath - you are not fine.” You spoke softly, your hand squeezing his shoulder as he took a shuddering breath. You looked at the dim tv that had the hospital's menu channel on, displaying the time, 3:21 am. He argued not to worry about him, but you couldn’t help it. He had never looked more exhausted in your presence - even after twelve hours of dance practice on three hours of sleep, he didn’t look this drained. Your fingers moved upwards lightly scraping his scalp, his arm tightening around you, as you spoke. “I love you, you know that right?”

He sniffled, the hospital gown getting damp as he told you about his earlier worries. You hushed him, comforting him with words and coaxing him to sleep. His hand wrapped around the index finger poking out of your cast as he fell asleep after a while, his snores music to your ears. No matter what he believed, you still felt safe with him next to you.

----------------------------------

You looked at the soft light of dawn as it flows through the window, trying not to move as your arm throbbed in the cast. In the few hours since he fell asleep, Namjoon’s head had moved, now resting on your chest as his arm was draped over your hips, but he looked so peaceful that you dared not wake him up. You barely slept, your pain medication wearing off much too quickly. You had never broken a bone before, and as you thought about how dumb your fifth grade self was for wanting a cast, you wished your boyfriend would wake up at his own accord. You desperately needed to call the nurse for some paracetamol, but you grit your teeth and bore it. You knew you were being stupid and Namjoon would be genuinely pissed if he knew, but looking at his mouth hanging open as he drooled over you made you smile at the endearing picture infront of you.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), soon a nurse walked in for his morning rounds, waking up a groggy Namjoon who startled, almost falling off the bed, making you hiss as he accidentally held on too hard to your side to keep balance. He stood up, running his hands over his face in order to wake up properly while the nurse did the checkup, providing you with the pain killers you request. Once he leaves, Namjoon moves back to you, putting his arm under your head as this time you nuzzle into his chest. You talked about nothing as the drugs finally took effect, helping you doze off. Namjoon kissed the top of your head as you dropped off mid sentence, a smile on his face because you were alright, but a heaviness in his heart as he looked at the bruises on your face, dark blue and almost black.

----------------------------------

“Shh… Guys come on. Let her rest!”

Namjoon’s theatrical whisper is the first thing you hear when you wake up again. Your eyes open to your room filled with all your friends. The room had seemed extremely large the last time you were awake but now it seemed tiny. Jiyoung was sitting on the couch typing on her phone with a frown, an Apeach plush on her lap, next to her Siwon was talking animatedly with a tired looking Jungkook munching on some chips. The coffee table in front of them was full of snacks, gifts, and flowers. Seokjin, Yoongi and Jimin were talking about something hushed as they stood near the television, serious looks on their faces. Hoseok was bent over the humidifier in the corner which seemed turned off, messing with the controls and grumbling to himself. Harry sat in the chair next to the bed, talking to Namjoon with Jen standing over him with her hand on his shoulder. Namjoon sat on the bed near your legs, his hand on your calf, and Taehyung sat next to him clinging on his waist. Needless to say, it warmed your heart to see all the people you loved here. Maybe getting injured wasn’t that bad.

You winced as you moved up the bed to get more comfortable and suddenly all the attention was on you, the room turning into a cacophony of “How are you feeling?”s and “Are you okay?”s. Everyone was now crowded around the bed, looking at you with worry, Seokjin even handing you the RJ plush he’d brought along with him stating its healing powers. It was odd to be coddled by such a large group. Overwhelming, but in the best way. 

“I’m fine guys. It’s just a broken arm.” You tried to diffuse the worries.

“You should look at your face dude.” Siwon stated, causing Namjoon to sigh, annoyed, and you to ask for a mirror. Oof you looked worse than you felt. By the bruises on your face it was a wonder how your nose wasn’t broken. Sheepishly you tried to explain to the group that it wasn’t that bad, but your friends were not convinced. 

Soon the conversation turned from worries about you to who the attacker was in the first place. While you and Namjoon were in the hospital, Jungkook and Jimin had been to the police to give in-depth statements. Turns out Namjoon had a stalker - someone the company and security had been keeping an eye on for months, but who seemed to have fallen off the map 6 weeks ago. Apparently the same one who had caused the dates at the beginning of your relationship to always be under the watchful eye of his security team. No one knows how she had managed to break into the dorms but apparently she had been hiding out in his room for a week, his closet was full of tins of food she had consumed during her stay. It was surreal to hear that someone had been in the house and no one had noticed. It made sense to an extent - no one had been actively living in the dorms for a few weeks, especially not Namjoon so his room was never opened. The boys seemed extra distressed about it, and even thought themselves guilty. Namjoon’s words from last night echoed in your head. He put himself at fault, when really it was this woman’s fault. 

No one knew what her plan was when Namjoon returned, and you didn’t want to find out. It might seem odd but you were glad that you were there to protect him in a sense. Apparently seeing you had started such a rage in her that she refused to talk further than the death threats she spewed against you. She was in jail and you hoped she stayed there for a long time. 

“The police haven’t taken into account your assault. You should file a report.” Hoseok spoke for the first time, his face hardened. The room seemed in agreement, but you hesitated.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” you started, only for Namjoon, who was now seated next to you on the bed with his arm around you, to counter but you continued. “I’m just saying. Police records are public and if someone looks into this person who was charged with stalking Joon the same night as attacking me, they might put two and two together and I don’t want that to reflect on him or any of you guys.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Y/N?” It was Yoongi who spoke, clearly irritated and impatient. “Who cares about that? She attacked you, she deserves to be in jail.” His voice was quiet, but the frustration in his tone was not lost.

“She’s already in jail though… It’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Noona… I know it’s not our decision but you didn’t see yourself when she was attacking you.” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked at you with hurt in his eyes. “She deserves to pay for what she did…”

“Guys… I know you want the best for me, but it’s too risky… Even you all being here right now is too risky!” It was time for your voice to waver as you suddenly realized the impact of having all of them in the room. All it took was one shitty quality photo from a nurse’s Samsung to ruin their image. You didn’t know how you’d be able to handle it if you were responsible for their first big scandal.

“Okay. I’m going to stop you right there. This is a private place we always use. This is not a risk.” Seokjin spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if trying to explain the situation to a five year old. He didn’t do it in a condescending manner, more to make you understand. “Please stop worrying about us. Our company has stopped way bigger scandals from surfacing. Namjoon, can you please make her understand?”

Namjoon sighed loudly next to you, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer. It felt comforting, but you still felt slightly cornered. You just couldn’t see the logic in what they were saying. The attacker’s jail time would probably not change much with an assault added, at least you didn’t think so - so why was this a big deal. 

“It’s her choice, hyung. I’m not going to force her to press charges if she doesn’t want to.” Namjoon looked steely at his member, before turning to you and softening. “But Y/N, I really do want you to make that decision without thinking of me or the rest of us. Can you do that?”

“No. Sorry. I can’t.” You were adamant and now you were starting to get annoyed. Namjoon was right - it was your choice - and it felt nice to have him on your side, at least partially, through this argument, but it didn’t make sense not to make it an isolated discussion. “You’re part of the situation and I can’t just make the decision without adding you to it. I’m not pressing charges.”

You heard a loud snort from Yoongi. “Why are you being an idiot?” He spoke to which Hoseok vocally agreed, causing you to almost yell your explanation in exasperation, before Harry broke the argument asking everyone to take a break and to lay off you.

There was thick tension in the room and it seemed to have sapped the air out of you. You felt uneasy, like no matter how deeply you inhaled you were breathless. You felt claustrophobic suddenly, squeezing Namjoon’s thigh, trying to control your heartbeat. Namjoon saw the distress on your face, immediately requesting everyone to move outside. It didn’t take them long to leave and somehow that helped you feel calmer.

When the room was empty, Namjoon looked at you. Turning to him, you buried your face in his chest, squishing the white alpaca between you and moving your injured arm on his stomach to hug him, despite the sharp pain that made you hiss. Breathing in his scent, somehow made the stress of last night catch up to and you cried. Namjoon held your head gently to his chest as you tangled your legs in his, wanting to almost disappear into him. You didn’t know why you were suddenly crying, but you couldn’t help it - it was like a dam broke, like you were leaking, your emotions cascading out of you onto Namjoon’s sweater. You couldn’t control your sobs and you wondered how loud you were being.

Namjoon felt his heart break as he held you. He had only seen you cry like this once -  the night he asked you to be his girlfriend - and it pained him that he was partially responsible for your tears today. He didn’t know what to do other than whisper “you’re safe now” repeatedly against your hair as you clung to him clumsily. He shouldn’t have let everyone visit so soon. He should’ve thought ahead. Of course you were overwhelmed, you were traumatized. He was an idiot. 

When you calmed down enough to look at him, he wiped your tears gently, barely even touching your skin, and handed you some water from the bedside table. He tried to assure you the best he could, interrupted intermittently by nurses and discharge forms. He didn’t bring up pressing charges again and you were grateful to him for that.

He helped you change into clothes Siwon had picked up for you, insisting you take the wheelchair to the car despite your protests (“My arm’s broken, not my leg Joonie!”). Before you entered your apartment Namjoon asked his security team to do a sweep. You would never admit it to him but having the place checked out before you entered made you extremely relieved. You knew it was irrational to think you’d have another stalker waiting for you but it genuinely made you feel lighter, your anxiety ebbing away. 

He spent the next few hours quietly worrying about little things, changing the code to your door, checking every lock, making you tea, and even cleaning your place to ensure you had “optimum comfort”, while forcing you to stay in bed regardless of your protests. After a while you couldn’t take him running around and murmuring to himself, especially when he decided to order from six restaurants for dinner. Walking into the kitchen where he obsessively cleaned a single spot on the countertop, you pulled him away.

“Joonie. Stop.” you gently touched his hand, startling him anyways as he looked at you in alarm.

“Oh. Do you need anything? Tell me, I’ll get it. Water? Bathroom?” He bent down slightly to look you in the eyes, searching your face for any discomfort.

“Namjoon, I have a broken arm, I’m not an invalid.” You rolled your eyes. It was sweet that he was this concerned but you seriously needed him to stop running around worried.

���Wait, you said Namjoon. Are you mad at me?” He looked alarmed, his eyes wide. Now that you looked at him closely, he didn’t seem to be doing too well either. His eyes seemed sunken behind his glasses, the crease between his eyebrow deep, and his stubble growing out more than you’d ever seen. You wondered if he got much sleep after you dozed off this morning. He even seemed skinnier somehow, though you chalk that up to your imagination.

“No baby I’m not mad at you. Just stop… obsessing. I’m fine. I swear.” You cupped his face with your working hand, thumb circling his cheekbones in an effort to relax him. He leaned in closing his eyes.

“Oh… oh. I just want to show you I love you. You know like you do…” He mumbled in a slight pout, averting your gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

“You always take care of me when I’m down. I want to take care of you.” You felt your heart glow in your chest. Sometimes you forget how much you love this man, but sometimes he says things that, for a lack of a better analogy, punch you in the face, reminding you why you love him. You wrap your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face into his chest, as he tentatively puts his arm around your head.

“You don’t need to deep clean my kitchen to take care of me babe. Just sit next to me. Let’s watch a movie.” You lean away from his chest to tell him, trying to tug his unmovable body towards the living room.

“Are you sure? I’m almost done. Just this one stain…” He lets go of you to grab the wipe again, only for you to pull at his hand.

“Joon. Leave it.” You say sternly, holding his hand as you lean up. “Kiss me.”

“What? No. You’re hurt.” He moves back and you have to convince your irrational feelings that he wasn’t rejecting you, he was worried about you.

“If it hurts, I’ll tell you.”

“No you won’t. I know you.”

“Joonie!” you whine and he relents, although it’s not a kiss you were hoping for. He settles for a series of small pecks against your lips, so light that you barely felt him. Sure even puckering your lips was slightly painful but you were annoyed, rolling your eyes at his lame attempt. And this was the man who had spanked you so hard once that you couldn’t sit without wincing for two days. The audacity. 

Before you could protest he walked with you to the living room and turned on Netflix. Picking a brainless comedy, you forced him to lie down on your lap and even before the title had come up he was asleep.

----------------------------------

“What wrong baby?” Namjoon came from the studio to find you lying on the ground still dressed in your pajamas with half your hair tied lopsidedly as you whined at seemingly no one, ignoring Moni as he licked your face. If he wasn’t worried that you somehow fell, he would find the sight of you throwing a tantrum like a toddler adorable. 

It had been three days since you returned from the hospital, but Namjoon hadn’t seen you looking this dejected before. You had been completely normal on Sunday, even agreeing to the guys coming over for dinner so they could apologize for their behaviour at the hospital. You had riffed like usual, making fun of Jin and Yoongi as they cooked even though it seemed like you itched to get in the kitchen and help, even getting especially giddy as your childhood dream of getting a cast signed by your friends was fulfilled. The next two days, despite everyone’s insistence you had returned to work, working from home. Fortunately Harry and Siwon had rescheduled or taken over all your client meetings to lighten your load. Namjoon had returned to work too but made sure to text you throughout the day and had spent every night with you, regardless of your protests of being an “independent woman that needs no man”.

“I hate this! I’m so frustrated! I feel useless and gross!” you whined as you thrash around on the floor comically with the biggest pout he had ever seen you sport. Dropping his bag near the door and trying not to chuckle at your cute behaviour, Namjoon walked over to you kneeling next to you.

“Aww baby come here” He opened his arms invitingly as you sat up, only for you to sit crossed leg in front of him to begin your rant. Moni moves between your legs and you scratch his head absent-mindedly.

“No! I can’t attend any meetings till my face doesn’t look like fight club, I can’t shower for two more days, I can’t cook because of this dumbass arm, I can't even tie my hair! TIE MY HAIR, JOON. I’M UGLY, USELESS AND DISGUSTING. Please leave me in my misery.” 

Your face turned red as you continued listing minor inconveniences that your broken arm bestowed upon you as Namjoon made his way behind you and put his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. Instantly you relax, huffing as you leaned into his chest. Today has been tough for you. You had spent two hours on a call relaying your game plan for a potential client to Harry and walking him through his nerves about the meeting, which drained you mentally. Your laptop had restarted two times without warning, your roomba had gotten stuck under the couch and you couldn’t reach for it, you had almost fallen in the toilet because the seat was up, you ran out of coffee, and to top it all off it took you ages to write anything with your left hand alone. You felt miserable and dejected.

“You’re beautiful. My slightly stir-crazy, extremely capable, beautiful girlfriend.” Namjoon kissed your cheek as you turned your head to scowl at him, not buying his flattery. He traced your features gently. He wasn’t lying, even with your face patchy with your yellowing bruise and a scab on your lip, you were beautiful to him and he felt his heart swell the longer he looked at your face. He still had trouble believing that you were with him.

“You’re only saying that cause you love me.” You whisper softly as you avert his gaze before starting to whine again as you adjusted your sling. “Ugh I just want to eat McDonald’s and die.”

“Not going to let you die, but let’s get nuggets.”

----------------------------------

“Baby I got us Chinese!” Namjoon called out as he walked in your home, hands full of takeout. Hearing no answer he called out again to hear your voice coming from the bedroom.

“Joonie! Crawl under here!” He saw you emerge clumsily from the floor, cast pulled close to your chest, as he entered the room where you had piled the blankets between the edge of the bed and the chairs that you had brought near it. “I made us a fort!”

Your giggles made his heart sing as he grinned and crawled under the fort, taking care not to knock it down. You had brought the lamp from the side table under as well, lighting the small space with a soft glow. He could barely sit up, his height making it difficult not to knock down your creation so he opted for laying down, his head on your thigh as you played with his hair. He sighed in content. It felt somewhat meditative sitting in silence with you under the many sheets, the pile of soft pillows in the corner adding extra coziness.

Soon you’re laying side by side, your fingers intertwined as you bounced your hands against each other. You were both looking at the makeshift comforter ceiling, soft smiles on your faces.

“Why the sudden fort?” Namjoon asks after a while, almost in a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of comfort you both were under.

“I don’t know… It’s stupid.” He turns on his side to face you, cupping your face to make you look at him. It’s the look he always gives you whenever you doubt yourself. A look that says I’m here for you, I’ll never judge you. “I used to build these when I was a kid and missed my mom… I guess I’m feeling kind of homesick. I know it’s dumb.” You chuckle a little at how childish your comments seemed. You were almost thirty and talking about missing your mom.

Namjoon hadn’t thought of this before - the fact that Seoul wasn’t truly your home. Sure you had introduced your mom to him over Skype a few times but he thought about how much he missed Seoul when on tour, did you miss Toronto that way too? You always seemed so content in Seoul, so content with your friends that he never thought about how your family wasn’t there.

“We can go visit home if you want?” He kisses your lips chastely as he continues, his nose nuzzling yours. “I can take a few days off. I’d like to meet your mom in person.”

“We don’t have to. I’m just being a baby.” You laughed as you moved closer and he put his arm under your head to pull you into his chest. You knew this bout was homesickness was temporary, but Namjoon’s words made your heart glow in your chest. It had been two weeks since your attack and although Namjoon had been a rock, helping you with everything from ensuring that you ate to shaving your under arms, you were nostalgic about when you were sick during high school and your mom would take the day off work to take you on a drive, buying you ice cream and snacks that definitely did not help your illness. His idea wasn’t a bad one but with how your injury had messed up your work schedule, you didn’t think you could take time off for a while, and you told him as much. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence again after that, dinner forgotten on the kitchen counter, as you laid under the blankets soaking in the cozy atmosphere.

Caressing your hip slowly where your shirt ended, Namjoon cleared his throat slightly, breaking the spell before he spoke in another whisper. “I could be your home… if you want.”

Moving your head from his chest you look up to find him gazing at you with a soft smile as he turns on his side again. You follow suit, the fingers of your uninjured hand tracing his chest where it stuck between the two of you. Your heart beat faster as you slowly comprehended what he meant, but you still needed him to clarify. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Namjoon was nervous - more nervous than he had been on your first date, more nervous than he had been when he asked you to be his girlfriend, more nervous than he had been after your first fight. The last two weeks had been some of his favourite with you, regardless of the circumstances that landed him there. He liked coming home to you every night, arguing over what to have for dinner, waking up each morning with his arms around you. You technically didn’t need him around anymore, your schedule was back to normal and you were more than used to navigating with one hand, but he didn’t want to go back to seeing you once or twice a week. How could he do that when he could see you everyday? The domesticity of your morning routines of coffee and reading the news together that had once scared him, were things he craved now. He even loved your playlist of the week startling him awake. 

Your prolonged silence made his heart race as he bit his lip in anticipation. Before he could take back his question with a joke, you kissed him. Your lips molded around his tenderly as you took his lower lip between yours, relishing his strawberry lip balm. You break the kiss to whisper a soft yes, barely audible over the sound of your heart in your ears, and Namjoon couldn’t help breaking into a fit of giggles, his forehead against yours as he pulled you closer. He tried to control his reaction but the happiness flowing through him made him feel like he was floating.

“And they were roommates!” You made the dated reference as you giggled along with him.

“You are such a dork. I love you.” He said as he brought his lips back on yours. 

“Yeah, your dork!” 

“All mine.” He smiled, his eyes disappearing as his cheeks hurt from the joy he felt.

--

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[broadstbroskis]

four times matthew tkachuk tried to use a pickup line plus one time it worked

big shoutout to the anon who went around dropping pickup lines one night for some inspiration for this. you da real mvp. also i’ve now written three fics for this mofo and they’ve all been plus ones. not sure what this says about me but but i’m certain it’s something.

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1. Sorry, but you owe me a drink. [Why?] Because when I looked at you, I dropped mine.

It’s a Saturday night in September and you’re out with your friends celebrating the fact that every single one of you have finally landed jobs after graduation. The weather’s starting to cool down, but it’s not so cold that you can’t enjoy one of your favorite rooftop bars still. 

Around you, your friends share your excitement. The whole squad (well, the whole squad that had remained in Calgary, you’re still bitter about Lauren leaving you all for Vancouver even if the opportunity had been amazing) is partying like you’re back in school but with the paychecks you’ve all got now and you’re certain you’re going to be feeling it in the morning.

Laughing on the dance floor with Kath, Will, and Claire, you push your way through the crowd once the song ends to refill your drink. You can’t help but shimmy your shoulders a little at the song that follows it, while you wait for the bartender to fill your whiskey sour.

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you turn, to find a guy with curly hair and dimples smiling at you. His face looks so familiar, but you can’t quite place it.

“Sorry.” He tells you. “But I think you owe me a drink.”

“Oh yeah,” You ask casually, sure you know where this is headed, especially since you’ve managed to place his face. Matthew Tkachuk, star forward for the Calgary Flames and perpetual pest. “Why’s that?”

Somehow, his grin widens even more. “Because when I looked at you, I dropped mine.”

The bartender hands you your whiskey sour and you think about it for barely a minute. “Well let me help you with that!” You dump your drink on him, taking only a moment to relish his shock, before walking away to find your friends.

There’s a huge spot of laughter behind you and it’s only when you reach Kath again that you turn around to realize that it’s Matthew’s friends that laughed. Tucked under the arm of one of the guys still snickering at him is a pretty blonde girl, eyeing you with interest, until she catches you looking back, and gives you a smile and a thumbs up.

2. Do you like raisins? How do you feel about a date?

“Oh my God!” The voice, quite frankly, kind of scares you. It’s too close, much higher than you were expecting, and doesn’t sound anything like Kath’s, who’s due to meet you and Claire any minute but certainly wouldn’t greet you like that.

“Can I help you?” Claire asks, pretty rudely, but you’re not inclined to scold her for it at the moment, when this tiny blonde is standing super close and staring at you with huge eyes.

“You’re my hero!” She exclaims and then covers her mouth. “Sorry! You don’t know me.”

“No, I don’t.” You agree.

“We were all here a couple weeks ago and you threw a drink on my boyfriend’s friend.” She grins. “I’m Sam, and you are my personal hero as well as all of our friends.”

After you and Claire introduce yourselves, you ask, “If he’s that much of an asshole, why are you guys friends with him?”

“He’s more of a pest than an asshole.” Sam says immediately, which does mildly reassure you that Matthew Tkachuk isn’t a total dick. “He’s actually a really nice guy, just cocky as shit.”

“Yeah, I got that much.” You say dryly. “Couldn’t you tell?” You continue, which sends all three of you into giggles, until Kath finally arrives. 

Sam orders a drink with the three of you, hanging around the bar to chat for a while. “I’m stealing all of you.” She declares, after a while, that the four of you have mostly spent laughing. “We have a table in the back, come on.”

“I don’t really know.” You hesitate.

“Honestly, don’t even worry about that. Matty’s totally over that. Honestly, he’ll be more annoyed about the boys chirping him than you turning him down.”

And how’s that saying go? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? Right over Sam’s shoulder pops his head; she’s just missing the angel and she’d be every cartoon you’d ever seen. “Here you are.” Matthew says. “Mony’s looking for you.”

“Perfect!” She grins. “We were just coming back over”

He looks over at her use of we and grins as soon as his eyes meet yours. Just like Sam, he hasn’t forgotten you either. “Hello!”

“Hi.” You return politely.

“We’re going to head over; you coming?” Sam asks Matthew. He points to the bar. “‘Kay, see you there.”

“Hey wait,” All four of you stop, looking over at him, but he’s only got eyes for you. “Do you like raisins?”

You know this is a line, but you can’t for the life of you imagine where the fuck he’s going with it. “No?”

He grins, cheekily, that same one from last time you’d met. “How about a date, then?”

You grin back. “I’m allergic.” You pat his cheek mockingly and then move past him to follow Sam back toward that table in the corner to meet the rest of her friends.

3. Do you know what my shirt is made of? Boyfriend material? 

Matthew’s brother is in town for a game, which means his whole family is in town for a game, which apparently means there’s an after party in his apartment with members from both teams and whoever else they want to invite.

You’re not quite sure how or why you managed to be invited, were honestly planning on turning down the invitation, but Sam insisted you show up, so here you were, rolling up to Matthew’s condo, with her, Sean, and Noah, shortly after the Saturday afternoon matinee.

The party already feels like it’s in full swing when you arrive and yet, people continue to arrive after you. You get caught up chatting in the kitchen for a few minutes with a lovely blonde woman, who you only later learn is Matthew’s mother, and then spend the next five minutes denying that fact completely as Sean and Sam laugh hysterically. “But she’s so nice.”

“You should see her roast Chucky; she gives it pretty good.” Sean’s still laughing.

“Which is pretty much Matt.” Sam adds pointedly. “Come on, YN. When he’s not being a total pest, he’s a pretty great guy.”

You took a sip of your drink instead of answering her. You certainly started to see the great guy side of Matt as you and your friends had started to spend more time with Sam-who frequently came with varying numbers of a hockey team, about as often as she came with just herself-and it was definitely getting easier to see that he actually could be a nice guy. One who was always there for his friends, who adored his family, who’d drop anything the second one of his people needed help.

But a lot of the time, you still just saw a cocky mofo who was used to getting what he wanted. You couldn’t think of a time you saw him that he didn’t at least send a wink at you. He still frequently tried to make some kind of cheesy pass at you, with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, like it was all some kind of game. 

Sam takes your silence for the reluctant admission that it is and pulls you over to play some wild drinking and card game that you never quite get the hang of and abandon quickly (you hate losing too much to play for long). But that much losing means your drink is empty already and so you head for the kitchen again for a refill.

Just your luck, the only people in the kitchen are Matthew and Brady. You would have been able to pick his brother out of a line up instantly, even if Noah hadn’t pointed him out to you when you guys first walked in. Matthew grins immediately, the same as always, and you just roll your eyes, preparing for what’s to come. “Knew this day would come.”

“And what day is that?” You return. “The one that I’m here, in your apartment?”

“And you know, you don’t have to leave now!” He holds his arm out to you as you look on unimpressed. “‘Cause you know what this shirt’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

He’s grinning that dimpled grin at you and for once, you actually refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “Shame your whole family’s in town right now or I could take it off to confirm that.” You trail a finger down his chest, stopping just before it reaches the button on his pants and grinning widely as he chokes on air, before turning to grab your drink and leave the room immediately afterwards

The sound of Brady’s laughter almost catches you for a second, since you’d actually completely forgotten he was there

4. Hey, you’re pretty and I’m cute. Together we’d be Pretty Cute.

You just needed one more afternoon pick-me-up. One more coffee would do it, right? And then this stupid project would be done? Before deadline? 

You put the order in. Your favorite barista at your favorite coffee shop promises she’ll bring it over when she’s finished with it and you settle back into your table to get back to work.

An arm drops onto your shoulders. “How’s my favorite girl doing?”

You tense immediately. At the voice, at the arm, at the words. “I doubt.” You say, hearing the coldness in your voice that is only reserved for the man who’d dropped himself into the seat across from you uninvited shortly after removing his arm from your shoulders. But at least his arm was gone. “That I could ever be considered your favorite girl, considering how many girls you cheated on me with when we were together.”

“Come on, babe, don’t be like that.” Kyle says.

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to even respond. “Don’t call me babe.”

“Who, me?” You’ve never been so grateful to see Matthew before, let alone to have him slide into the seat next to you so closely. 

You smile at him, actually moving your chair closer to him-literally anything to get you further away from Kyle-and are impressed when he doesn’t even flinch. Just throws his arm around the back of your chair and returns the grin  “Well, you too.” You tease.

 Matthew grins. “Nah, babe, you know I like riling you up too much.” You can only roll your eyes at that.

“Well this has been fun, babe.” Kyle says, finally standing up, reaching out to pat your hand resting on the table.

“She told you not to call her that.” Matthew intercepts his hand, pulling yours toward him. His voice is flatter than you’ve ever heard it.

“Be fun to do this again sometime.” Kyle continues like he hasn’t heard a word Matthew said, but you can tell from the look in his eyes that what he’s going to say next is going to hurt. “You know, if your boyfriend can share you better than you could share me.”

Your jaw drops and you can feel tears spring to the corners of your eyes as he finally, finally walks away. Next to you, you feel Matthew tense, like he wants to get up and follow him, and you reach for one of his arms. “Don’t.” He pauses. “He’s not worth it.”

“He’s a real dick.” He grumbles.

“Yeah.” You say quietly. There’s nothing really to add to that that you or your friends haven’t already said and so a long moment of silence follows that admission.

“Hey.” Matthew nudges you.

“What?” You ask grumpily, reluctantly meeting his eyes.

“You’re pretty and I’m cute.” You give him a look, like get on with it. “So together we’d be Pretty Cute.” 

For once, his cheesy pick up line brings a smile to your face, turning your mood around instantly. And the second you start to smile, Matthew does as well. “There we go, there’s that smile.”

+1. Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?

Perched on the counter of Johnny’s breakfast bar, legs dangling off, you cheer loudly as Elias sinks another cup. He throws his hands up victoriously, looking over at the paper bracket that you and Sam had spent hours working on, only for someone to splash beer all over it when they’d thrown their hands up in outrage over a ruling.

It was the Flames’ annual Beer Olympics and you were still managing to enjoy yourself, even though your elimination had come early after Noah had thrown the game because he’d spotted the girl he’s been talking to recently rolling in the door. He hadn’t even been phased when you threw your half full cup of beer at him, or when it nailed him in the back, and he still doesn’t look upset about his wet back, smile seemingly permanently fixed on his face as he continues to chat with said girl.

For your part, after elimination, you’ve become both a personal cheerleader and trash-talker. You’re an equal opportunist, you know? Someone makes a bad shot, you’re going to call them out on it.

Newly eliminated, you’re not entirely surprised when you feel a new presence by your side. It wasn’t like things had abruptly changed after the run-in with your ex at the coffee shop, but the energy was definitely different. 

Gone was the cocky grin, replaced with a softer, dimpled smile that you’d always return. The pickup lines were cheesy jokes, a thing between the two of you, said with a little bit of questioning and a tiny bit of hope as each time he waited for you to laugh.

And each time you did, enjoying the smile it brought to his face. More and more you saw the genuinely great guy he was- in fact, it was the dominating trait over how much of a pest he was, how cocky he was, how annoying he could be.

Of course, it’s possible you spoke entirely too soon on this as his first move upon coming to stand next to you is to poke you in the sides repeatedly. “Why’d you have to do me dirty like that?” He whines.

“Elbows!” You repeat simply, calling him out for the same thing you’d shouted at him earlier. 

Matthew comes around in front of you, resting his cold drink on your leg in what you can only assume is payback. “You’re wrong.” He tells you. 

“Maybe,” You say with a grin. “You’re wrong.”

“Oh I’m never wrong.” Matthew assures you, and then a familiar grin appears on his face. “In fact,you can kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?”

He’s waiting for your laugh, you can see it in his face. But you don’t want to, is the thing. 

So you reach forward, grabbing his face and pulling it toward yours. There’s just enough time to register the shock on it before your lips meet, but Matthew pulls his shit together enough to return a breathtaking kiss, so when you do finally pull away, you’re practically gasping for breath. 

“Um. You’re wrong.” You manage, finally.

“Don’t even.” Matthew grins, stepping forward into your thighs, and kissing you once again.

[diariesof-kg]

Love & Order.

08_01_2021

I am bothered that I keep having dreams about this person. I am confused why my mind is going in reverse.  Why my mind creates these visuals of us happy and being together when that could never be.  Perhaps it’s the illusion of the mind.  Perhaps my dream is the reality of false hopes.  It’s strange and I need it to stop.  There are moments that I do miss, I can be honest about but I feel as those the rush of disappointments erased all of that.

I do embrace the dreams because they are true feelings that I had. I really loved and cared about her deeply.  It is extremely hard to make me fall in love.  I don’t rush into using the word love either.  I have to feel it on a spiritual level before it leaves my mouth.  I am at most disappointed with myself though. I reflect a lot and think, girl, you were blinded because you left a lot of people behind for things they did to you and you couldn’t see any of this coming.  But relationships are complicated as usual.  The last time we had a disagreement, was when she was doing my hair.  And I remember I just got over it quick and asked for a kiss.  And that was the end of it.  There are positive reasons why I stayed although it felt toxic as hell.  I had experienced things I didn’t experience in my past relationships.  I legit slept on the couch, floor after an argument from my past.  I legit couldn’t get a hug or kiss. It was bad and so part of me was getting something different and I stayed.  There were positive moments.

After the court proceedings, I reflected on what was said.  She said she bit me to get me to leave.  But I was bit outside of your residence and it wasn’t a nibble, it was cuts in my arms and a nasty bruise that looked gross overtime.  That statement made me sick to my stomach.  It just reminded me of victims in domestic violence situations get blamed for them being harmed.  She admitted to it, but still didn’t apologize.  It was disgusting.  This is why I will speak on what happened to me to the masses.  Because there are so many victims who live in silence, because of how conditioned they have become from their partners.  Like when she told me her friend slit her wrist and wrote I love you all over the girlfriend walls because they were breaking up.  What excuse is that?  What if your friend killed her girlfriend, you are going to blame the dead? She shouldn’t have broken up with someone crazy, then she’d be alive.  This is truthfully sick.  It makes sense why your friends are your friends and why as a flock of pigeons, neither one of you really held each other accountable.  Her and her friends find excuses to one’s actions and blames the victims.  That’s honestly scary.  I am lowkey scared for my life now.  I mean wow.  And then the person who paid you to mail drugs or what have you told you the police was coming and to not come home.  I should report his ass. LOL.  He part of the problem too.  You have a whole ring device to avoid the police from your recreational activities. Oh boy.

I am at peace though.  I feel refreshed after everything that has happened.  I wish I could date someone else, but I am stuck, well my soul is stuck on the person who betrayed me.  I am patiently waiting for everything to resolve itself, so that I can move on and be with someone else.  I feel like the timing and the universe will work itself out.  I honestly love the Buffins.  The way they built their foundation and their relationship is goals.  They both have great work ethics and indulge in each other.  I know where they are with each other took a lot of time, but when you know that person is your forever I am going to have to assume something silently dings.  I thought she was my person too, but somehow I was wrong.  Still upset with myself about that.  I even thought, what if all this blows over and we reunite but then I think to myself, she told a federal employee that I stole her identity.  I just can’t forgive that.  That’s really dangerous to lie like that.  You walking around Los Angeles telling lies like that.  I work for the government how gross can you get.  You could make up any lie on me but that is too far.  Even the lawyer was shocked and was like, you work with so many people, why would you choose her.  Especially when they ask if she has a job or monies.  They trying to understand the motive here.  Like that is disgusting.  That’s part of my story too.  Like I said, someone else is for me.  A soulmate.  A lifetime partner.  I just have to be patient enough.  I want to move in with my partner and travel together.  I want to propose the whole nine.

So before everything hit the fan, I had this plan to ask her to be my gf.  The only person that knew of this was my bff Nay.  I had told her to ask her what kind of ring she likes and all these questions.  I started taking her out on random dates just to see how things could go.  I had bought a ring, lordt nobody knows, because they’d all kill me. Lol.  But I did.  You can even check my bookmarks.  Even when I was planning Big Sur, it was all part of the plot.  I remember trying to figure out how to get her out of the resort room to set this all up.  I even reached out to a planner.  I am very romantic when it comes to showing my partner love.  I don’t believe in showing it upfront all the time, because its cliche.  I even had the idea of at my house.  It was a thing.  And this was being planned since December.  I think my bff did ask silver or gold and my bff said silver.  It was bound to happen regardless of us being on bad terms, because I never give up on what I truly feel.  But parts of me is glad I saw those tweets.  Because I would have been a dumbass bish looking real stupid.  I mean I still looked stupid because I was loyal and not being flirtatious to others. I am still upset at my damn self to be honest.

I wake up everyday feeling great, because I can replan it for someone else.  I can fall in love with someone else.  I can spoil someone else who will truly love and care about me.  Who is secure within themselves and open.  That is what keeps me going.  Even though I felt broken after April 30th, I told my therapist no one will ever want me.  And I cried for a week.  I look back and think damn I survived that.  Someone will accept me as damage goods and understand my past.  I do believe it will happen soon.  It’s difficult being that covid has made its rounds again.  But I took time from work to refocus on a few things.  My room is almost done.  Its going to be like a spiritual room when you walk in.  You can meditate, write on the board of things you want to let go of and then it’s just that.  I my friends to feel at peace when they come in.  I know it seems strange but that’s how I want my condo to be as well.  Like a zen vibe.  I am just waiting for more stuff to be delivered.  I am excited about that.  I have not have the urge to hop back on any dating sites.  I do feel different about myself.  I have never had trust issues at all.  And now I do.  I am definitely scared to get to know someone or allow them to know me.  It’s not a good feelings at all.  But I do want to be with someone by 2022.  I want to share a life with someone.  There is no rush but I for one don’t want to be past 35, still can’t be in a relationship.

Parts of me is sad though too.  Because we would look at million dollar homes and in my head, I knew how simple it would to get it.  But like spiritual z said, you can’t protect her anymore and I have to move on and get out of this cycle.  But I do want to settle down by 2022.  I want to get this townhouse or condo and then a Tesla.  And then whomever is interested can have the choice as we get serious to move in with me or we get a place together.  All about communication and commitment and I am ready for that.  But also, I have to close this chapter.  Which means after telling my story to the blogs, the groups etc. and I am fully healed, I know the universe will be ready to send me someone by the end of the year.  I am honestly excited, because I am definitely going to take my future bae on a vacation by the 5th date.  I am not playing this time.  I have the means to do it, so why not.  I saved up enough for anything I desire at this point.  Plus thank you MTV and VH1.  Thank you for all the bookings honestly.  

To end this blog, I will post the responses I received after the domestic violence occurred.  I posted this anonymously to avoid being flooded in my inbox.  But it made me feel better about the situation, especially when you are torn. 

Until next time...

[jamaisjoons]

intro: her VI ⤑ knj | m

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞singe dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: some truly domestic shit

➵ 𝚊 /𝚗: hello!!!! i finally managed to finish this chapter now that my family are all gone!! so,,, here it is and i hope you enjoy!

⏤ Rewritten as of 26/02/2020

⇥Previous || Masterlist || Next

Chapter 6: School Days and Kisses

The next day, you’re woken up by something, or more someones, jumping on the bed while screaming - your pup happily yapping. You let out a small groan, trying to burrow further into the warm covers. Inhaling deeply, while sleep still has its hold on you, you breathe in the earthy, musky scent that was definitively not yours. Immediately, your eyes snap open, brain whizzing into action as you sit up promptly, the covers gathering around your belly.

“Noona! Wake up!” Taehyung giggles while he continues jumping on the bed. Jungkook jumps closer to you, flopping over your lap before smiling up at you with his bunny-esque smile. Meanwhile, Jimin stands a little to the side of the bed, smiling shyly at you. Soon, you realise that you aren’t currently in your own bed, but Namjoon’s, your heart slowing once the fear of being in an unknown environment passes. However, your cheeks heat when you realise you spent the night in Namjoon’s bed, your heart now speeding up for a different reason.

“Daddy is making breakfast, he said there’s a toothbrush for you in the bathroom. It’s the green one,” Jimin says, a small smile on his face, his feet shifting as he looks at you through his thick lashes. Your heart lurches, wanting nothing more than to grab the adorable boy and pepper him with kisses. Jimin looks at you expectantly, little brows furrowed and you nod.

“Tell daddy I’ll be down in five minutes,” you say. Taehyung and Jungkook cheer before running out of the room, already screaming for their father, Monie running after them. You quickly get out of bed and walk into the bathroom, spotting the brand new toothbrush: still in its packet. Your heart warms at Namjoon’s thoughtfulness. Swiftly, you check the time on your phone before groaning as you realise you are undoubtedly going to be late for work. You quickly send a message to your manager, explaining the situation before hastily brushing your teeth and washing your face.

When you exit the bathroom, you’re startled by Jimin’s presence. He’s sitting on the bed, legs dangling over the side as he patiently waits. When he notices your arrival, he hops off the bed before slowly approaching you. You take in a sharp breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements. Jimin is usually the last person who was happy to be in your presence alone, always needing either of his brothers or his father with you. So his sudden willingness to be alone with you throws you off. Deciding to ignore the marginally strange behaviour, you move to walk towards the bedroom door. However, you’re considerably startled by the sudden smaller hand moving into your large palm. You look to Jimin in surprise. His eyes are pressed firmly to the floor, a prominent blush on his puffy cheeks as he rests his small hand in yours. You try and resist the urge to grin, positively over the moon over this one action. Jimin had finally let you into his little world.

The two of you walk downstairs, following the sound of barking, cluttering of pots and pans and Taehyung and Jungkook’s voices. Once you get to the threshold of the kitchen, Jimin lets go of your hand, joining in the chaos that is currently the kitchen. Namjoon is standing over the kitchen island, looking down at his iPad, a mix of pure confusion and frustration etched on his face. Next to him, Taehyung and Jungkook have crawled onto one of the seats, both of them sneakily reaching for the bowl, dipping their fingers into what looks like pancake batter before licking it off while giggling to themselves as Namjoon is moderately preoccupied. Jimin walks over to them, looking between his younger brothers and father before deciding to join Jungkook and Taehyung while Rap Mon happily wags his tail, following Namjoon.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, startling Namjoon. He whips around, eyes wide. The two of you stare at each other, knowing you’re both in unfamiliar territory. His eyes leave your face, travelling down your body as his pupils dilate. Your own gaze follows his, trailing down to look at your figure. Your blush deepens when you remember you’re wearing one of his much larger t-shirts, and your panties and nothing else.

“Oh… OH! I’m so sorry! Jimin threw up on my clothes yesterday while you were away and I had nothing else to change into. I hope you don’t mind,” you quickly blurt out. Namjoon clears his throat in response, cheeks heating red while he shakes his head.

“No! It’s alright. My shirt is the least I could offer after you took care of the boys yesterday,” Namjoon hastily replies. If he’s being completely honest, he doesn’t mind at all. In fact, his mind is currently warring between wanting to wake up like this every day and moving to grab you and kiss you senselessly. The latter of which he definitely cannot do right now, considering his sons are watching both of you.

“Do you need some help?” you ask and Namjoon looks sheepish, rubbing the back of his head.

“I was trying to make pancakes for breakfast as a thank you. But it’s not really going well…” Namjoon trails off, causing you to giggle at him. Slowly, you pad over to him, taking the whisk from his hand.

“I can make pancakes. Why don’t you put the pan to heat? And try not to burn yourself,” you say pointedly, busying yourself with whisking the batter.

“Hey! This was supposed to be my way of thanking you,” Namjoon pouts and you bite your lip, suppressing a smile.

“Well, it can be my thank you to you for letting me sleep in your bed. And if you really want to, I’ll let you cook the pancakes. Deal?” you ask and Namjoon grins, dimples deepening.

“That I can do!” he replies cheerily, saluting you with a spatula in his hand. The two of you share the kitchen, laughing and giggling to yourselves as Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook run around with Rap Mon.

Once breakfast is ready, the five of you gather on the dining room table once again. You aid Namjoon in dishing out the pancakes, syrup and orange juice. Breakfast is, as usual where the boys are concerned, a chaotic affair. Somehow, Taehyung manages to miss his mouth while eating, getting pancake crumbs and syrup all over his face; Jungkook’s sticky fingers only succeed in making everything stickier and Jimin somehow manages to spill all his juice over himself. Through it all, Namjoon looks only somewhatexasperated while you’re left laughing the entire time.

“Oh fu-” Namjoon almost swears as he looks at the time.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re running late. I still need to get Jungkook and Taehyung dressed for school, find Jimin a sitter this late and then get to the studio myself. I have meetings with producers and management all day. Also, I need to drop you off at work,” Namjoon begins listing things off, tutting to himself before grumbling over how this wouldn’t be happening if he knew how to make pancakes.

“Actually, I messaged and told them I couldn’t come in today so I’m only on call. I don’t need to be anywhere unless there are any major issues with the animals or something. I figured I’d be late anyway considering I had no clothes. If you need me to, I can take the boys to school and come back to look after Jimin. I assume he can’t go back for a few days,” you say casually with a shrug. Jimin and Taehyung let out a little whine at the thought of being separated.

“I… would you mind? I hate to ask,” Namjoon says sheepishly and you tut, already standing up and gathering the plates.

“Once again I’m offering. It’s really no big deal. Hanging with Jimin would be better anyway. We can have fun, right puppy?” you ask, Jimin shyly nodding at you.

“Well that settles it! I’ll stop off at my apartment on the way to dropping them and pick up some clothes too. Also Monie’s food and stuff,” you iterate, mentally creating a list of things you’ll need to bring.

“That works. I’m going to get dressed then. Oh! I’ll throw in your clothes from yesterday in the wash,” Namjoon says with a small smile. After that, he runs upstairs to get ready for the day, leaving you with the task of cleaning up.

You walk into the kitchen, the boys following you as if you were a mother duck and they were little ducklings. Promptly, you begin to load the dishwasher, the boys helping by passing plates, causing you to smile at their politeness. The domesticity of the entire situation isn’t lost on you. The entire weekend feels as if you’d somehow been accepted into Namjoon’s little family and that the five of you were playing house, and no matter how much you try, you simply can’t shake off the feeling. The slight churning in your stomach deepens and you aren’t sure if it’s in anxiousness or eagerness.

“Noona? We have to get ready for school or we’ll be late,” Taehyung says as he tugs on the hem of Namjoon’s shirt by your knees. You break out of you little reverie, smiling down at him.

“Alright, come on then,” you say, grabbing Jungkook and Taehyung’s hand as Jimin takes Taehyung’s other hand. The four of you quickly climb the stairs and before long, you’re ushering them into their respective rooms. Luckily for you, Namjoon had already picked out their clothing, laying it on the bed. Jimin sits on his bed, pouting as he watches you dress Taehyung, Jungkook pulling on his trousers because ‘I can do it myself’. Honestly, you have no idea how to explain his sudden, random, bursts of independence.

Ten minutes later, both Jungkook and Taehyung are ready and dressed for school, their little rucksacks on their backs as they smile up at you. Jimin’s eyes are slightly shiny with tears, his lip quivering as he grips tightly onto Taehyung’s hand. Your heart goes out for them; is today one of the first times they’ve ever be separated? It doesn’t seem right. They’re a package deal: Taehyung and Jimin, Jimin and Taehyung. You just cannot have one without the other.

“Alright boys, ready?” Namjoon calls out as he pops his head in the doorway of Jimin and Taehyung’s bedroom. You turn around, smiling at him while the boys run up to him.

“Perfect. Driver Lee is here to pick me up. Do you need a ride?” Namjoon asks as he glances at his watch. You bite your lip as the domesticity of everything washes over you once again before you shake your head.

“No, I need to stop off at home and grab some clothes because I can’t exactly drop them off looking like this,” you say, gesturing towards your outfit, “besides, that would make you even later. It’s alright, I’ll drive them,” you continue and Namjoon nods before thrusting something in your arms.

“They’re a pair of shorts. I figured you couldn’t leave the house without… trousers on,” Namjoon says looking away as his cheeks colour. You feel your own face heat up, graciously accepting the article of clothing from him. Namjoon turns away, allowing you to swiftly step into the shorts. They’re much bigger on you than you expected, but they only needed to cover you till you get back home to change so you don’t mind as much.

“Alright, come on then! Before we’re all later than we are,” Namjoon says as he begins ushering you out once again. You quickly grab your keys and Rap Mon’s harness, placing the boys in the back of your car and your pup in the boot.

“Be good at school today okay boys? Daddy will come pick you up at the end,” Namjoon says, dropping kisses onto Taehyung and Jungkook’s foreheads as they nod and smile enthusiastically. “And you! Be good for ____, okay? Daddy will see you after work,” Namjoon continues, dropping a kiss on Jimin’s forehead. Jimin nods, eyes once again tearing up.

Turning to you, Namjoon smiles, “thanks for doing this. I owe you,” he says, smiling gratefully, dimples deepening, as he bends down and drops a kiss on your cheek. You startle somewhat at the unexpected action, watching as Namjoon waves to the lot of you while he gets into the car. The four of you wave him off, before you touch the spot on your cheek where he’d kissed. Biting your lip, you let out a large grin, getting in your car. Once you make sure all their seatbelts are on, you drive off towards your apartment.

Half an hour later, you find yourself outside the boys’ elementary school. Luckily, you’ve made it in time - with a few minutes still to spare. As you guide the boys out of the car, you notice the sudden stillness of the previously bustling people around you. The parents are all staring at you in wide-eyed wonder, children looking at you curiously. Your brows furrow a little before deciding to ignore them as Jungkook and Taehyung ecstatically pull you towards the school’s entrance. Stopping short, you squat down to their level, smoothing out their hair and fixing their clothing. Jimin and Taehyung are still gripping hands tightly, Jimin’s eyes tearing up as his bottom lip juts out with a quiver.

“I wanna go with Taehyungie,” Jimin whines, making your face soften.

“Jiminie, you can’t go to school today. You’re still sick and you could make the other children sick,” you gently reply. Jimin sniffles at your words, but nods - even as his pout deepens. Taehyung lets go of Jimin’s hand, only to hug his brother.

“It’s okay Jiminie! Kookie and I will go to school and then we’ll come home and play pirates,” Taehyung says cheerily. Jimin sniffles again, pulling away and rubbing his eyes before sticking out his small pinky.

“Promise?” he asks and Taehyung nods, wrapping his little finger around Jimin’s chubbier one.

“Promise!” Taehyung says, a boxy smile etched on his face and little teeth on display. Jimin nods, rubbing his tears away with his small fists before letting out a watery smile. Your heart warms at their actions. After fussing over the boys, you check your watch, only to realise it’s almost time for you to leave.

“____!” Someone calls out and you quickly turn to watch Sooyun approaching with Sungwoo, Jaewoo and Suri in tow. You wave at her as she approaches you, Sungwoo and Jaewoo already running up to Taehyung and Jimin.

“Sooyun-ssi! Hi! It’s been a while,” you greet politely with a bow.

“Please, just call me Sooyun. I see you’re dropping the boys off,” she says, her eyes twinkling.

“Yeah Jimin is sick so I’m dropping Tae and Kook off and then Jiminie and I are gonna go home,” you say with a smile. Sooyun smiles, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“Home?” she asks, eyebrow raising. You blanch, your cheeks heating.

“I mean Namjoon’s home! Not mine! Or that his home is my home!” you quickly blurt out, making her laugh at you.

“Aha, it’s okay! I hope you get better Jiminie,” Sooyun says, bending down and ruffling Jimin hair. He smiles, thanking her before shifting closer to you shyly, holding onto the material of your leggings.

“We’ll miss you at school Jimin,” Suri says, a bright toothy smile on her face. Jimin blushes, burying his head into your leg before nodding. You hear the bell ring and quickly glance towards your watch, realising you have to leave now. You watch Sooyun wave at the boys as they run off, blowing them kisses.

“Alright then, today was my day to take the children to school cause Jaebum’s got an important meeting. But I need to run or I’m gonna be late for work myself! Hopefully, I will see you around soon ____,” Sooyun says, bidding you goodbye with a bow before rushing off. You wave goodbye before turning back to the boys.

“Okay boys, be good! Daddy will pick you up,” you say as you move to leave. However, before you can fully turn, Jungkook is tugging at your leggings. You crouch down to his level again, looking at him curiously. Jungkook’s twists his left leg shyly, looking away with a pout.

“Daddy always kisses us goodbye,” Jungkook softly mumbles and you giggle at his actions. Swiftly, you gather him into your arms, tickling his sides and making him burst into laughter before pressing a kiss on his cheek.

Taehyung fists the material of your leggings by your knees, jumping up and down. “Me too! Me too!” he calls out, grinning up at you and sticking out his chubby cheeks towards you. You grin, pressing a sloppy kiss against his skin.

“There we go! Happy?” you ask them both and they nod eagerly before turning and running into the school. You watch them go, feeling a little more attached and maudlin than you should. Once they’ve completely disappeared from your view, you turn back to Jimin, who’s staring longingly at the doors Taehyung and Jungkook had just disappeared from.

“You okay puppy?” you ask, Jimin turns to you, staring up at you with sad eyes.

“Will it be long before they’re back noona?” Jimin asks with a pout and your face softens before you shake your head. You comfortingly pet his head, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“They’ll be back before you know it! But now, you get to spend time with noona and Monie,” you say, grabbing his hand and walking towards the car. Jimin climbs into the back, Monie happily wagging his tail before licking Jimin’s cheeks, causing the boy to let out a bright smile as you buckle him in.

“Jimin? You up puppy?” you ask, entering his room with a steaming bowl of dakjuk and Jimin’s antibiotics. You walk in to find Jimin sitting up in bed, Monie laying beside him as Jimin stares at Taehyung’s empty bed. Your face crumples at his clear sorrow. Placing the tray on his bedside table, you crawl into his bed beside him, practically falling off the bed from how small it is.

“Noona, are they almost home?” Jimin sniffles causing you to gather him into your arms. Jimin’s small body curls around you, burying his head in your stomach, little fists clenching your shirt.

“They’ll be home in a few hours Jiminie,” you say, patting his head soothingly. Jimin lets out a little sniffle, burying further into your stomach.

“I thought if I slept then they’d be home,” Jimin says, voice muffled by your stomach. You slump defeatedly, knowing it must be completely new for both of them to be separated from each other. Briefly, your mind wanders to Taehyung, wondering if he’s okay or if he’s missing his twin as much as Jimin’s missing him.

“It’s only a little while till they come home, puppy. Until then, let’s have some lunch yeah? Noona made dakjuk and then you can take your medicine and you’ll get better,” you say, patting his back. Jimin nods, shifting so that he’s sitting up again. You smile down at him, brushing the tears nestled within his eyelashes before reaching for the rice gruel.

You feed Jimin the porridge, spooning little mouthfuls of the gruel into his mouth, making little sound effects to try and get him to eat the entire bowl. Jimin’s eyes are trained on you the entire time, watching you feed him with idle curiosity. You can almost see the little gears in his brain moving, and from the slight downward quirk of his lips, you know he wants to ask you something. Patiently, you wait for him to gather his courage, wondering what had gotten him so interested.

“Noona?” Jimin finally calls out and you hum in response, feeding him another spoonful of his lunch.

“Do you like anyone?” Jimin asks causing you to choke on your spit. You look at him in slight terror, wondering why he’d asked you that all of a sudden. Your mind automatically flashes to Namjoon, causing you to blush.

“Maybe… do you like someone?” you ask, turning the question on him, Jimin’s face scrunching up in distaste.

“No! Girls have cooties,” Jimin quickly replies, causing you to laugh at his childlike response.

“Noona is a girl… does noona have cooties?” you ask cheekily. Jimin’s eyes widen before quickly shaking his head.

“No!”

“Well what about Yunnie-noona? Does Yunnie-noona have cooties?” you ask and once again Jimin shakes his head.

“No! Yunnie-noona and you don’t count,” Jimin recounts, making you giggle.

“What about Suri?” you question curiously. Jimin immediately blushes, looking away. Your eyes sparkle lightly, making a mental note to tell Namjoon that his son has a not so little crush on Suri.

“Suri has cooties,” Jimin whispers lowly.

“Does that mean you want to stop hanging out with her?” you ask and Jimin shakes his head for a third time.

“No, we can’t! She plays with Taehyungie, Jaewoo-ah and Sungwoo-ah and me!” Jimin says and you laugh at him, nodding sagely.

“Does that mean you like Suri and want her to be your girlfriend?” you ask, causing Jimin to blush deeper as he looks down at his covers.

“Maybe,” he pouts before suddenly looking up at you.

“Hey! I asked you first,” Jimin calls out and you exhale a breath of air in exasperation, knowing you’d been caught trying to change the topic.

“Who do you like?” Jimin asks curiously, cocking his head to the side. You bite your lip, unsure of what to say. Because really, how do you tell the six-year-old boy, who’d just asked you who you liked, that you like his father? Should you even tell him?

“Is it daddy?” Jimin follows up and once again you choke on your own spit, coughing a little before turning to him with wide-eyed horror. How did he figure that out?

“I-I-I-” you stutter before gulping as you try to calm yourself down.

“I think daddy likes you. Like how Bummie-hyung likes Yunnie-noona,” Jimin continues, the words rolling off his tongue casually, causing you to cock your head at him in interest. However, before you can ask him more about why exactly he thinks that, he’s already moving the conversation along.

“Are Taehyung and Gukkie almost home now?” Jimin asks. You turn to the clock on his bedside table, shaking your head.

“Still a little bit longer Chim,” you say, Jimin’s shoulders slumping as he pouts. You reach over for his medicine, mind still occupied with why he thinks his father likes you but not knowing how to bring it up again. More than that, however, you want to take his mind off of Taehyung and Jungkook.

“Alright come on, it’s medicine time. And then we can go watch Pokemon, okay?” you say, trying to distract him from missing his brothers. Jimin nods enthusiastically causing you to internally applaud your success of cheering him up.

Namjoon waits in the school playground, checking his watch. Taehyung and Jungkook would be out any minute now. He only has to wait a few more minutes before the bell rings, signalling the end of school. Standing up straighter, Namjoon watches as droves of children run out of the entrance, keeping an eye out for his own two sons. A couple more minutes later and he spots them both, waving and calling out their names. Taehyung and Jungkook’s eyes light up as they run towards their father.

“Daddy!” they both call out, wrapping their arms around each of his legs and grinning up at him. Taehyung lets go of him, looking around before his face falls.

“Daddy, where’s Jiminie?” Taehyung asks with a pout, as he continues looking. Namjoon’s chest tightens and he crouches down to his son’s level, taking Taehyung’s smaller hands in his.

“Jiminie is at home, tiger. You’ll see him soon, I promise,” Namjoon says and Taehyung nods, eyes tearing up in the slightest. Namjoon’s heart lurches again; he can’t even imagine how lonely Taehyung must feel after spending an entire day without his other half. He quickly ushers the boys to the car, crawling in the back with them before buckling them in.

“How was your day? What did you learn today?” Namjoon asks as the driver pulls out of the school.

“I learned about mermaids!” Taehyung grins up at him. Namjoon’s brows furrow, looking at his son curiously.

“Your class learned about mermaids today?”

“No daddy. I learned about mermaids. I don’t know what the class learned,” Taehyung replies, rolling his eyes. Namjoon laughs at his son, shaking his head before turning to Jungkook who’s staring at all the parents outside walking with their children. His eyes are trained on a mother, walking with her sons.

“Nochu? You okay buddy?” Namjoon asks, Jungkook finally breaking away. He looks at his father with large doe eyes, his head imperceptibly cocked to the side.

“Is noona our mommy?” Jungkook asks casually. Namjoon lurches, brows quirked as he looks at his son in interest.

“Why do you ask that?” Namjoon questions, more than confused at Jungkook’s sudden question.

“People from my class saw noona dropping us off,” Jungkook replies.

“Yeah! And we’ve never had a mommy take us to school so Sungwoo and Jaewoo asked us if noona was our mommy,” Taehyung butts in. Namjoon bites his lips; he hadn’t thought of that before. Usually, it’s him or one of his friends dropping the boys off. This would have the first time ever that someone other than them had dropped his children off at school. Let alone another woman.

“She’s not your mommy buddy,” Namjoon says gently, Jungkook nodding before looking away as Taehyung’s body slumps.

“Why? Would you like noona to be your mommy?” Namjoon finally gathers the courage to ask.

Without missing a beat, “Yes!” Taehyung quickly calls out, figure perking up, Namjoon’s brows rising at his enthusiasm.

“Why’s that?”

“Because she does things a mommy does. Like take care of us and hug us and kiss us goodbye. Like Yunnie-noona does for Jaewoo and Sungwoo,” Taehyung says with a bright smile. Namjoon’s chest falls significantly in his chest. He had no idea his sons were missing a mother. Why would he have? They’ve never had a mother in the first place. He’s always tried to be the best parent he could have been for them, but he should have known that they’d see other children and their mothers and that they would have gotten curious. However, this only serves to solidify his want to date and pursue a relationship with you.

“What about you Kook? Do you want noona to be your mommy?” Namjoon asks. Jungkook’s lips turn downwards in the slightest before he shakes his head.

“No!” Jungkook says, shocking Namjoon. That’s certainly unexpected.

“Why’s that?” Namjoon sputters out, unable to hide the complete surprise in his tone.

“Noona is my girlfriend,” Jungkook replies simply but assuredly. Namjoon blinks owlishly at his son, trying to process his words. Once his mind finally catches up, he cannot help the small laugh that escaped his lips.

“What if I want noona to be my girlfriend?” Namjoon asks, Jungkook frowning.

“She’s mine daddy. I saw her first,” Jungkook replies petulantly, crossing his arms. He goes quiet for a little while before looking at his father from the corner of his eye, “but if you want her that’s okay… we can share,” Jungkook continues, making Namjoon laugh again.

“No Kookie! If noona becomes daddy’s girlfriend then she can be our mommy and stay with us forever,” Taehyung interjects. Jungkook looks at his older brother with wide eyes before turning to his father so quickly Namjoon almost gets whiplash.

“Okay, daddy! You can have noona! You have to make noona your girlfriend,” Jungkook says, voice completely serious. Namjoon reels from the sudden change in Jungkook’s tone.

“So… if daddy was to ask noona to be his girlfriend, you wouldn’t mind?” Namjoon asks. As much as he wants to be with you, there’s no way he could even think about asking you out if his sons aren’t okay with it. Especially considering that they’d be affected by his decision too.

“Do you think Jimin would be okay with daddy making noona his girlfriend?” Namjoon asks and Taehyung nods enthusiastically.

“Jiminie said he likes when noona reads us bedtime stories and that she gives nice hugs, like a mommy would,” Taehyung says with a beaming smile. Namjoon smiles at his sons before nodding. Now that he had his sons’ blessings, the only thing stopping him from making you his, is himself. Butterflies bloom in his stomach as the car nears towards his home, now nervous about seeing you. Would you say yes? He sincerely hoped so.

Minutes later, the car pulls into his drive. Namjoon grabs the boys’ bag, opening the car door, he watches the two of them run up to the front door of the house. Shutting the car door, he bids the driver goodbye before turning back to his sons. Sucking in a sharp breath, he watches you answer the door, Jimin in your arms and a bright smile on your face. You place Jimin down on the ground, laughing as both he and Taehyung run to each other, hugging one another as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Namjoon watches Jungkook runs up to you, raising his arms up in a motion to pick him up. You lift him up without question, Jungkook giggling before snuggling into your shoulder, small arms wrapped around your neck.

Namjoon’s throat closes in emotion and he has to swallow thickly as he watches Taehyung and Jimin run past you. You place Jungkook back down, laughing at them as he runs back in too before turning to face Namjoon. You’re slightly taken aback by the intense gaze he’s levelled at you. You shift from foot to foot nervously, eyes trained on Namjoon as he slowly approaches you. Soon, he’s only a few inches away from you, towering over you as you look up at him.

“Hi. Welcome home,” you say hesitantly, unsure of what else to say. Namjoon’s chest constricts. It definitely feels like coming home. More than it ever has. His arms wrap around you, pulling your body into his chest. Your eyes widen at the sudden movement, arms automatically resting on his chest as you stare up at him curiously through your lashes. His eyes search over your face, looking for any sign to say you want this as much as he does. He finds it: when your eyes briefly flick to his lips before looking back into his eyes, face heated at his close proximity.

Then, before he can control himself, he’s bending down and kissing you.

a/n: OH LOOK! FINALLY!!! THINGS ARE HEATING UP AND IT’S ONLY 36K INTO THE STORY KDNR;GNE

⇥ Masterlist | Chapter 7

[monilanchest]

HAPPY THANKSGIVING WITH THE WASHINGTONS ! ! ! ! @trinibarra @martinaw

Despite the buzzing of their phone and the thousands of people following them, Monique Lanchester felt sick to their stomach. The tension was high around the dinner table, people were drunk and in their feelings. Trinity’s voice filling their ears, their Uncle Felix trying to calm her, and Aunt Lori who asked her to continue. Their eyes swept over to their Aunt Vivian who was silent with a tight jaw, their own mother texting furiously on her phone, and their father in the kitchen with the food. The table was missing two people this year, though it should’ve been just one. The family’s first Thanksgiving without Bernice Washington, the head and glue of the family. Every year the older woman would cook on hours on end for everyone, keeping everyone in line and keeping the love up. None of them knew how empty it was going to fill without her but they were going to make it work. But that couldn’t happen as they were missing another person year, one who left the day of without telling anyone. 

“I just think it’s funny that the family’s little baby just decided to up and leave without telling us. Isn’t that just amazing.” 

“Trinity--” 

They began drumming their fingers on the table top, the beat slow and steady at first before increasing by the second. The fire inside of them bubbled like a volcano, ready to erupt at any minute. But they were doing everything they could to remain calm and to not explode. No one needed that and they weren’t allowed to blow up. They were the oldest of the trio, they had to keep their composure for the sake of their family. For the sake of their big momma. 

But why was it that they were the only one of the trio doing as they were told? Why was it always them having to force themselves to grow up and be the ‘ bigger person ‘? Why in the world was it always them? 

“Come on, everyone, leave Martina alone,” said Maxine. “She’s just with a friend--” 

“And how do you know that?” 

“Well, I’m texting her right now--” 

“Oh!” Lori leaned back into her seat, frustration evident in both her voice and eyes. “So she can tell you but not her own mother? Okay then.”

“Lori it’s not like that and you know it.” 

The drumming was becoming louder and the lava inside of them was growing hotter. Monique refused to look up at anyone, it would only set them off more. But there was no need to look up at any of them as their voices grew louder than before. People were talking over each other, adding more to the fire. Trinity and Lori ganging up on Maxine who tried to stand up for an absent Martina. Felix was trying to calm his daughter again but it wasn’t working. None of this was working, none of them were trying to do better, none of them fucking cared. 

“Why do you keep trying to stand up for her? She obviously doesn’t care about this family like the rest of--” 

They exploded. Their anger took full control as they picked up the glass plate in front of them and threw it at the nearest wall. All fell silent, eyes on Monique. And they looked at everyone, jaw tight and hands twitching. No words were said as they walked out of the dining room and to the living room, picking up their car keys and walking out the front door. They needed to leave, ASAP. 

“Moni, Moni!” Called their mother, following right after their child. “What the hell was--” 

“Why, mom?” Monique asked, turning around to make eye contact with the older woman. “Why isn’t she here? Is this friend of hers more important than us, than big momma?” Maxine stood there, staring at Monique as they kept going, the words flowing out just like hot lava. Slow and steady but still powerful. Still able to burn someone. “She doesn’t love us, mom, if she did then she would still be here. Honestly, Trinity doesn’t love us either because she fucking left us too. They don’t care about this family and they can do whatever the fuck they want, no one will ever say anything about it. But me? I don’t have that luxury, mom, I can’t just do whatever. I can’t do big momma like that, I can’t do our family like that.” 

And they kept spilling, not caring that they were talking to their mom even though they should’ve. Maxine tried to interrupt them, by calling their name and trying to remain calm. But that wasn’t working because Monique Lanchester wasn’t trying to listen to anything anyone had to say. Maxine had to literally grab hold of their child’s face, grabbing them by the chin and cheeks. Despite her age and height, Maxine Lanchester will always remain the strongest one of the family. 

“First of all, you need to watch who you’re talking to like that. I am your mother and I don’t appreciate you talking like that.” She was stern and serious, her voice and words calming their child. “Second of all, your cousins do love this family. Just because they don’t do as much as you doesn’t mean that they don’t. You need to understand this, Monique.” She was becoming softer now, watching as Monique slouched, leaning more into the touch that turned into Maxine gently holding their child’s face with now two hands. Their anger has shifted into deep sadness, tears ready to pour out. They didn’t even bother to wipe them away, not even Maxine tried to do so. 

“Moni,” said their mother again as she watched the tears spill out. A silent crier, that was what Monique was. Never making a single sound, keeping to themselves as tears and snot ran out. “Baby, go home. It’s obvious how not okay you are, honestly, none of us are okay. Just.. go home, okay? Me and your dad are going to stay and clean up before we leave.” Bringing Monique’s head down to her, Maxine gently kissed their forehead. “I love you.” 

“I-I love you too, mom.” 

Both pulled away from each other, Maxine going back into the house and Monique to their car. Once alone in their car, they tried to wipe away their tears the best way they could. It was a temporary fix but with how their anger was leaving their body, the lava inside of them settling and cooling, it was turning into sadness. A deep regret for causing a scene, for acting so out of character, for allowing their emotions to get the best of them. They hated that small part of themselves so fucking much. 

Turning the car on and phone connecting to the car’s system, fingers scrolled through their contacts book because they just needed to hear someone talk to them. The first or second name to come to mind should’ve been Yara Gale but it wasn’t. Because in their moment of weakness, their heart told them to do a group call with Kassandra Sutton and Julian Eaton. And their finger did hover over the names, ready to call before stopping themselves. 

The two didn’t want to hear from them, especially not on this day that should be filled with nothing but love and happiness. 

So instead they clicked on Yara’s name and waited for the other to answer before crying for the second time that night. 

[blu-joons]

BTS Reaction: Your Dog Is Protective Of Your Baby Bump

Jin:

His hand reached forwards to rest over your bump, feeling a soft head move his hand away just before he could hover over it. “What’s she doing?”

You peered down to see what he was referring to; your dog was right by your side as he always was since you fell pregnant. “He doesn’t want you getting too close.”

“It’s my child though, it’s not his child to look after you.”

You chuckled as he tried once more only to be swatted away. “Clearly he thinks otherwise, he’s always been by my side, and now more than ever he’s looking out for me.”

“I’ve been around for years, surely he knows who I am,” he groaned.

“Perhaps, but maybe he doesn’t trust you, there most be something about you that gives off a bad vibe,” you teased him as his eyes continued to roll.

“I’m not having this for the next four months, I want to be able to hold your bump,” he moaned to you, but your shoulders shrugged.

“It’s not me you’ve got to convince, it’s him,” you chuckled, pointing to your dog.

“I’m a good person buddy, don’t bark at me.”

Yoongi:

He jumped hearing Holly bark from across the room, you both turned around trying to figure out what set him off. “I’ve never seen him get so wound up.”

Yoongi brushed it aside, but as he took another step towards you, he barked once again. “I think it might be the bump, he doesn’t want you to come too close to me.”

“I don’t get it, it’s not his bump to protect at all.”

You chuckled, pushing him away, “if you come close, you’re going to set him off again, just wait until he goes back to his bed and you can cuddle the bump once again.”

“That could be all night long knowing what he’s like,” he yelled.

“You’re just going to have to wait then,” you teased, proudly resting your hand onto the bump, “eventually he’ll know that you’re safe around here.”

“I can’t believe my own dog has turned against me in order to protect my child,” he chuckled, throwing his hands up in the air innocently.

“It must suck knowing you’re now his third favourite in the house,” you joked.

“I’d argue back, but I know that you’re right.”

Hoseok:

It was instinct for him to rest his hand over your bump, only when he came into contact with his hand, he felt nibbles against the back of his hand. “Mickey!”

You jumped at his shriek watching him pull his hand away from you, holding it against his chest. “What did he do? I was sleeping just then Hoseok.”

“Sorry, but he just tried to bite my hand, he’s never done that.”

You looked at him in confusion, moving your hand towards him, without any reaction from him, “he’s fine with me, it must be something that you’ve done then.”

“I haven’t done anything except try and touch the bump,” he told you.

“You know, I read this thing online that dogs get really protective over baby bumps, I think that might be what’s happening here,” you told him.

“But I’m not doing anything dangerous, I’m just trying to touch the bump of my unborn child,” he vented, looking across at Mickey again.

“Give it time and he’ll learn that you’re safe around the bump,” you chuckled.

“I’m perfectly safe around my child.”

Namjoon:

The loud barks of Moni made both of you jump, your eyes darted around to see what had troubled him, running over to your legs. “He’s watching you.”

Namjoon knelt down in front of him, “what’s got you all angry buddy? I didn’t do anything wrong,” he mumbled, looking at your bump to make sure that you were safe.

“I think he’s got a problem with you and the bump; he’s staring.”

Namjoon looked away from your bump, as Moni settled once more. “I don’t understand why he’s getting nervous when I of all people come near to you.”

“They do get quite overprotective sometimes,” you reminded him, “it’s fine.”

“I’m not willing to get attacked by my own dog every time I look at you,” he pointed out with his arms folded across his chest, “we’re going to have to train him.” “He can’t help his instincts, it’s nice that he’s wanting to keep me safe,” you smiled, running your hands along the length of his body.

“It’s alright for you, at least you can interact with the bump,” he sighed.

“He’ll come around, just give it time.”

Jimin:

His hand hovered over the bump, resting over the paw that had slid under his to keep a distance between them both. “Your dog is so protective of you.”

You chuckled feeling his head rest against your chest, “I’ve taught her well over the years. She’s always been wary, but even now more that I’m pregnant.”

“I’m never going to be able to hold your bump without her here.”

You nodded back at him “she barely ever leaves my side; you’re going to have to do something incredible in order for her to let you touch me.”

“You’re literally carrying my child,” he cried out.

“She doesn’t care, if you’re dodgy, she’ll let you know about it,” you reminded him, smirking at the pout that formed on his face.

“In a few months she won’t be able to stop me holding the baby,” he announced, “when they become a physical part of our lives.”

“You underestimate just how protective she is,” you teased.

“No way will she be able to stop me.”

Taehyung:

Yeontan’s eyes were firmly on Taehyung as he walked towards you, just as his hands stretched out to hold onto your bump he ran forwards, barking around his ankles. “What?”

Taehyung took a step back to calm him down, whilst you couldn’t help but chuckle as Yeontan quietened down. “He’s really funny about you coming near me.” “It’s the bump, he’s worried about anything happening.”

You ran your hand along it smugly, “it’s cute how well he’s looking after me, it’s like having another boyfriend in my life, always there to take care of me.” “Only your actual boyfriend can’t come near you now,” he reminded you.

“That might not be such a bad thing, this bump is getting big, I need space, and Yeontan gets it for me,” you teased watching his feet stamp on the floor, staring at Tannie.

“You need to chill buddy and let me touch the bump otherwise they’ll be trouble,” he instructed, but his eyes were too soft and innocent to pay attention.

“It’s going to take a lot more than that Tae,” you told him.

“He’s never going to listen to me again.”

Jungkook:

He froze when he heard Gereum barking when he came towards you, Gureum moved so he was sat directly in front of you. “He’s not letting you close.”

Jungkook’s eyes rolled, looking at you to try and give him a bit of help, but you simply smiled. “He’s letting you know this bump is mine and no one else.”

“It’s kind of mine too, it’s carrying my child,” he grumbled.

Your shoulders shrugged, patting Gereum’s head, “he doesn’t know that, does he? He’s just worried that you could do something to hurt me?”

“Mum and dad trained you far too well,” he scolded down at him.

“This is so funny,” you giggled, Jungkook tried to reach forwards once more, but the volume of his barks continued to grow. “You’re not coming anywhere near me for a while.” “I can’t believe this is happening,” he sighed in frustration, trying to find a way to swerve him, “he’s definitely got his eye on me.”

“At least he’ll be well trained for when the baby comes,” you teased.

“That’s no food for now though, is it?”

---

Masterlist

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 23

masterlist 

Hello darlings! I’m back very briefly to give you a short chapter that was already have finished before my tests. I still have a bunch of school work to do, so I’ll be back to hermitting directly as college kills my soul, but please! Send asks! This story is very quickly drawing to its conclusion (probably only 10 or so parts left), and I’d love to know who you all would like to see in my next fic! Love you all!-- chaotic puff 

Jin found them there sometime later curled up on the sofa with Namjoon in one corner and Y/N resting against his side a blanket tucked around her legs and Moni settled happily next to her as the trio watched some sort of drama on the tv. The dog had perhaps missed her more than Namjoon had. While Moni was Namjoon’s dog, in the short time that Y/N had been there, she’d come to be the fluff ball’s favorite person which could have had everything to do with how much she spoiled him.

Namjoon couldn’t find it in himself to be jealous of the animal though. Moni made her happy, he was comforting to her, and Jin’s words rang through his head. She needed comforting things in her life now. She needed security, and Namjoon had every intention of providing it.

“How is the patient doing?” Jin asked almost sorry to break the peaceful moment as the pair had so few of those.

“She ate some of the porridge and drank a full cup of tea.” Namjoon reported with a tired smile, before the smile fell again morphing into a more concerned look. “She hasn’t had anything else though.”

It was bothering him. He was relieved she was awake, but she wasn’t herself. She had eaten so little too. He had hoped she’d finish the whole bowl of porridge, but she’d picked at it finishing maybe a quarter of it before she declared herself done.

“I’ll set up another saline bag to make sure she stays hydrated until she’s feeling a little better.” Jin nodded coming over to check that the IV port was still good on her arm. “Some exercise would be good to if she was up to it, just a walk in the garden though, nothing strenuous.”

“There’s something else.” He sighed eyes them both warily. It wasn’t news he wanted to give, but someone had to. “You have visitors.”

Namjoon stiffened though Y/N barely seemed to register the news.  “What visitors.” He asked in a low growl jaw clenched as he tried to keep his temper under control.

“Jackson Wang and Mark Tuan. They’d like to see Y/N.”  Came the reluctant reply, but this time earning a reaction from the woman. She stiffened before straightening up one hand anxiously knotted in the fur on the back of Moni’s neck.

“I don’t want to see him.” She whispered her eyes fixated on the floor.

“No one will make you.” Namjoon assured wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder and leveling Jin a hard look clearly displeased by the news and the fact it had been stated in her presence. “I’ll deal with them.” He murmured into her hair. She nodded mutely keeping her eyes on the floor as she anxiously ran her fingers through Moni’s fur. “Jin, could you have Jungkook come up and stay with her?”

“Jungkook’s here?” She asked her eyes flying up to meet his.

“He got back the other day. He wanted to see you, but you were still sleeping. He’s been staying in one of the guest rooms.” The smile that Namjoon sent her was warm, indulgent. He was far too relieved to see her displaying some sort of emotion that he didn’t even care it was directed towards another man. “Would you like to see him?”

“Yeah.”  

Namjoon smiled placing a soft kiss to her forehead as he stood up. “I’ll be back after I deal with this.”

“Okay.”

Namjoon and Jin walked out together leaving her curled on the sofa with Moni. The drama still played softly in the background though both men knew that she wasn’t really paying attention to it. She wasn’t herself, and they both knew it.  

“Has she spoken at all?”

“Not much more than you heard.” He sighed leaning against the wall outside of the room. “She asked me to stay.”  He huffed out a laugh with a sad smile. “You and I both knew she wouldn’t do that unless something was wrong.”

“She’s been through a lot. As much as she doesn’t like you, you are familiar at this point. Her entire world just got turned on its head. She needs familiarity. You, me, Jungkook. She needs people who care for her right now. She’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she’s, Y/N. She’s tougher than she looks, she’s just a little fragile right now.”

“Who let those bastards in the house?” He growled pushing off the wall to go deal with the pests that had invaded his home.

“They demanded entrance, claimed they had business with you. Hoseok’s with them now.”

He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well let’s see what the bastards want. Can you send Jungkook to sit with Y/N?”

“Of course.” Jin nodded. “I’ll hook her up to a new saline bag as well. We’ll see if Jungkook can get her to eat anything else.”

“Thank you, hyung.”

Namjoon was practically seething by the time they got to the parlor where Miss In and Hoseok stood guard over the two unwanted visitors. Miss In might not have looked like much, but she was nothing if not loyal to Namjoon. She ran the house with an iron fist so that Namjoon could run his business in the same way without worrying over his home. Hoseok would not hesitate to put a bullet into the heads of the other gang’s members. He was a loyal to Namjoon more so than any of his other men.

“What can I do for you gentleman?” Namjoon asked leisurely strolling into the room giving them a cold smile in greeting.

Jackson stood up whirling around to face Namjoon. “Where’s Y/N?” Namjoon ignored him choosing instead to settle himself into a chair across from the two men. “Where is she?” Jackson repeated glaring at the other man.

“Y/N doesn’t want to see you.” He drawled taking pleasure in the man’s clear annoyance.

“Of course she wants to see me. You can’t keep her away from me.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Wang, that Y/N does not want to see you. She’s been unwell and hasn’t wanted any visitors, especially not you.”

Jackson frowned clenching his fists. “Y/N would never refuse to see me, and what do you mean she’s been unwell?”

“She’s been unwell.” He shrugged purposefully keeping his answer vague partly to protect Y/N’s privacy and partly to annoy the other man.

“You said. What’s wrong with her?” He gritted out trying to restrain himself from jumping on the other man, but this was RM’s domain, and it would do no good to cause problems when Y/N’s safety was dependent on this man.

“I don’t think she would like you to know.” He smiled the expression dark and cold. “You did after all betray her.”

“I did no such thing!” Jackson shouted jumping up from his seat only to be pulled down by Mark.

“Control yourself.” He sighed. “Yelling isn’t going to get you any closer to seeing Y/N.”

“I’m afraid that neither of you will be seeing Y/N today. She has very clearly requested not to see you.”

“Where is she?”

“That is none of your concern.” Namjoon drawled. “She has asked not to see you. I intend to honor that request.”

“You can’t keep her away from me. She’s my sister.”

“And what kind of brother fails to protect his little sister?” Namjoon shot back cruelly.

“She was never supposed to marry you.” Jackson hissed. “She never should have been here in the first place. She never should have met a bastard like you.”

Namjoon froze the tension in the room rising as he levelled Jackson with a dark look. “She was always meant for me.” He smirked the expression cold, almost feral in nature as he stared at the other man. “Do you really think you could protect her? You? She’s better off here with me than she ever was with you.”

Jackson scoffed and leaning forward with a manic twinkle in his eye. “You think she’ll ever love you?”  He grinned the expression lacking any warmth or humor. “She won’t. She’s too good to degrade herself like that.”

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed dangerously his grin almost feral as he looked at the other man. “You think she would be any better off with you?”  The temperature in the room seemed to drop as he spoke. “You couldn’t even manage to get her more than an hour away before your bumbling attempt at a rescue was foiled. Did you really think you could take her away from me? The only reason you aren’t dead is because she didn’t want you dead. The only reason your bumbling crew was given the time of day was because you had the audacity to claim her as kin.”

“I want to make something perfectly clear to you, Mr. Wang. Y/N has never been and never will be your kin. She is my wife, and once the wedding is over, you will never see her again.”  

“You have no right!”

“I have every right! You may not like it, but Y/N is my wife. She will remain my wife, and you will fade into obscurity especially after your spectacular failure of a rescue. She was willing to sacrifice herself for you, if only you hadn’t lied to her.” He sighed false sympathy dripping from his tone. “She was quite heartbroken you know.”

“You bastard!”

“Is that any way to talk to your betters?” Namjoon quirked a brow unamused by the man across from him who was practically vibrating with anger.

“Just let me see her!”

“No. Out of the question. I won’t have you upsetting her any more than you already have.”  He scoffed elegantly crossed his legs leisurely leaning back in his seat. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’ve outstayed your welcome. Hoseok!” He called and almost instantaneously the red haired man was by his side. “Could you escort our guests out? And make sure that the gate knows that they are not welcome at the estate again.” He turned his cold gaze on the two men again sending them a smile that sent chills down both of their spines. “If you have any further business with me, you can do it through official channels, not at my home.”

part 24