#i was warning him bc we worked together a couple days ago

[nobodybetterlookatme]

What a totally normal and completely hinged thing for someone to say 🫠

[rubytuby]

surprise

patrick zweig x fem!reader 

word count: 3.3k (LOL)

warnings: established relationship with patrick because i'm lazy, art is your best friend, mentions of getting drunk but it's college so like to be expected… also allusions to sex haha but um i just love to write a cutesy plot.

note: i am normal about patrick zweig, i feel so normal about him #needthat. jokes, but i am in love with him its so bad, i wish he was real. also please don't be offended by my tashi erasure, still love her, but she didn't exactly fit in here. obv this is not canon bc you're dating patrick in stanford era instead of tashi, anyways, hope you enjoy <3.

FEBRUARY 23 2007, STANFORD

The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the tennis courts as you and Art wrapped up your practice session. Both of you were drenched in sweat, Art slung his tennis bag over his shoulder and jogged over, his face lighting up with a mischievous grin.

“So uh, want to walk back to the dorms together?” he asked, sounding overly eager.

You squinted at him, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Sure, but I need to shower first. You know, make it seem like I haven’t been pushed to my physical limits,” you said, gesturing to your sweaty attire.

Art laughed. “You have a single, why don't you just wait until you get back to your dorm?”

You groaned, shoving your racket into your bag. “That's the problem. The maintenance guy showed up at 7:30 this morning to tell us they’re shutting off the water from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. only on my floor for some urgent plumbing issue.”

“Damn, that sucks. Are they even allowed to do that without giving anyone notice?”

“That's what I asked, but apparently, giving us 30 minutes notice is considered adequate. So, technically, they can,” you replied, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I’ll be quick, though. Just need to rinse off. If you don’t wanna wait for me to chill, you can walk back to the dorms. I won’t be offended.”

Art shook his head. “I’ve got time, I’ll wait. I’ve gotta call someone anyways,” he said plopping down the bench and pulling out his phone.

“Alright weirdo, if you’re sure,” you said, dropping your tote bag next to him. “I’ll be super quick.” With that, you darted off to the girls' locker room.

As soon as you disappeared, Art pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick’s number. The phone barely rang before Patrick answered, his voice tense with impatience.

“Are you guys on the fucking way yet or am I going to have to wait longer?”

“Hello, sunshine!” Art greeted cheerily. “Your beloved is taking a quick shower. We’ll be there in about 25 to 30 minutes.”

Patrick groaned loudly. “Why didn’t you just tell her to shower in her dorm? I’ll lick the sweat off her if it means not waiting any longer.”

Art grimaced at his best friend’s comment. “The water’s out on her floor. She said she’s literally only rinsing off and changing. Just be patient. I’ll text you when to leave so we can time it perfectly.” A sigh rang out on the other line.

“If this plan doesn’t work and I’ve been hiding from my girlfriend for a couple hours for no reason, I’m going to seriously hurt you,” Patrick grumbled, staring out Art’s dorm window.

“Well she definitely thinks you're in New York visiting your parents,” Art paused, “I just had to talk her down from buying a plane ticket, so I think we’re good.”

“I told her I just got into the city a couple hours ago when I actually got to SFO. She was so upset yesterday when I said it’d be five days until we saw each other. She called me a fucking asshole, so I dont know what to do anymore.” Patrick said as he flopped onto Arts bed.

Art scribbled on his worksheet, humming in response. “Well, at least you know that she definitely misses you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if she misses me or just wants to slap me in the face,” Patrick replied, exasperated.

Just then, Art saw you coming out of the locker room, chatting with one of your friends on the team. “Hopefully not the latter. Anyway she’s out. See you at 15. Don’t be late,” Art said flatly before hanging up, knowing Patrick and his unfortunate untimeliness. 

Art smiled up at you as you approached. “Who was that?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“Our shared lover,” Art replied with a laugh, haphazardly shoving his worksheet and phone into his bag as he stood up.

“Aww, any exciting updates from Pat? He still stuck with his parents for another five days?” you teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

“He just got to the city. He mentioned playing on the East River courts and paying someone to hold a spot for him,” Art lied smoothly.

“Sounds about right,” you said, sighing. “Anyway, I was talking to Nathalie over there…” you squinted, linking arms with Art as the two of you started the walk back to your dorm. “She mentioned a frat party happening tonight. Since Patrick���s trapped in New York, I figured why not go?”

“There’s going to be a keg stand, a ton of alcohol, and some shitty DJ or something,” you added, glancing at a group of students touring the campus before turning back to Art.

Art nodded, slightly wincing at the mention of the keg stand. “Wow, sounds like a lot of fun,” he replied sarcastically, earning a nod of agreement from you.

“I was planning on skipping it, but Nathalie really wants me to go. I thought if you came with me, it might actually be fun. Better than wallowing in my room wishing Patrick was here,” you admitted, biting your lip.

"Well, we had fun at that party last Friday, you remember right?" Art asked, smirking.

"Remember is a strong word," you replied, shaking your head with a laugh. "I think I have bits and pieces from that night. I do remember waking up still drunk at noon with my t-shirt on backwards and you snoring next to me in bed. Also like 5 missed calls from Patrick."

Art flashed you a lopsided grin. "Well, your bed's comfy, but I thought I was going to roll off in the middle of the night."

"Well, I stayed in my corner, I was flush against the wall as you were all sprawled out making yourself at home on my bed," you teased, nudging him playfully.

As you approached your dorm building, you noticed Art’s phone buzz. He glanced at it quickly, fumbling to put it away as a smile grew on his face. “What’s with the grin, weirdo?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“Oh, nothing. Just a funny text,” Art replied too quickly, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”

“Who, me? Who said I’m lying, I’m the picture of innocence,” Art said defensively.

You shook your head. “Sure you are. Anyway, I think I’m gonna drop my stuff on the floor, crawl into bed, and maybe take a nap. Maybe we can think about that party, I can call you at 11 so we can pregame.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Art said with a nod. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

You smiled gratefully as the two of you ascended the stairs to your floor. Art talked animatedly about his plans for the weekend while you half-listened, preoccupied with thoughts of collapsing onto your bed and taking a deserved long nap.

"Yeah anyways, I'm thinking of catching up on some studying, this english class is kicking my ass," Art continued, unaware of your drifting attention. "Maybe I’ll go on a run later though. You could join me if you wanted, if you’re up."

"Maybe," you replied absentmindedly, reaching a hand into your tote bag sifting for your keys.

As you reached your door, frustrated with your bag, you dropped your tennis bag and lifted your whole tote up, practically sticking your face in it to find your keys. "I hate these fucking tote bags, I can’t find shit," you grumbled to Art, feeling a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, you turned around with a scowl— until you saw Patrick standing there, a mischievous grin on his face. "Patrick! What the fuck? What are you doing here-” you exclaimed, letting your tote bag fall to the floor and throwing your arms around him in a tight hug.

Patrick laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "Surprise" he exclaimed, holding you close, smiling at Art over your shoulder.

You pulled back slightly, giving him an incredulous look. "You asshole! Trapped in New York with my parents, my ass!" you shook your head, playfully hitting him on the chest.

Patrick held his chest dramatically and leaned in, kissing your cheek lightly. "All part of the plan," he murmured. “Plus, I had a little help," he added, nodding towards Art, who was standing nearby with a smug expression.

You turned in Patrick's arms to face Art, scoffing in shock. "Art, you were in on this? You’re such a liar," you exclaimed.

Art shrugged. "Hey, I was just hosting him at my dorm while we were at practice. Technically, I didn’t lie—I just omitted a few details," he explained, grinning.

"How could you do this to me? Traitor!" you said dramatically, though a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

Patrick wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, pulling you closer against him and resting his head on your shoulder. "Come on. You know it was worth it," he said, his tone teasing.

You sighed playfully, shaking your head at the pair of them. "I guess I can forgive you both this time," you conceded.

Patrick’s hand gently brushed through your hair as he settled his head into the curve of your neck. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re mad at me,” he said softly.

As you lingered in Patrick's embrace, you paused. "Wait, where's all your stuff?" you asked, pulling back slightly and turning to look up at him.

Patrick grinned, nodding towards your door. "In your dorm," he replied casually.

“Wow, Breaking and entering," you quipped, crossing your arms squinting at Art.

Art interjected with a laugh, "Actually, perfectly legal entering. You're the one who gave me a spare key."

You shook your head, "That's for emergencies, Art," you retorted, shooting him a mock glare.

Patrick turned you around to face him, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. "Come on, admit it, you're impressed," he teased.

You sighed, "I'm shocked you guys were able to pull this off, honestly," you admitted, shaking your head with amusement. Patrick laughed softly, rubbing your back soothingly.

Reluctantly pulling away from Patrick's arms, you grabbed your tote bag from the floor, turning to face Art and Patrick. "As much as this hallway talk is very exciting, I seriously need to find my keys. I'm exhausted," you declared half-joking.

After a brief search through your bag, you finally located your keys nestled among your belongings. Patrick picked up your tennis bag with a playful grin, indicating his readiness to follow you inside.

"Alright, Art, thank you," Patrick called out over his shoulder as you unlocked the door.

Art waved casually. "Have fun, be safe you two. I'll see you later," he replied as he walked down the hallway.

As the two of you entered your dorm room, you barely had enough time to place your bags on the floor before Patrick closed the gap between you and him and crashed his lips onto yours. His hands pulled you against him as he pressed your back against the door, placing his hands on either side of you almost boxing you in. His kisses were sloppy, teeth colliding as his lips moved against yours, hands desperately roaming your body, as if he couldn't get close enough to you.

You responded eagerly, melting into his embrace, your own hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him closer. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his tongue tracing your lower lip, hands roaming over your back, then up to cradle your face, pushing strands of hair away as he deepened the kiss.

"Patrick," you managed to gasp between kisses, your chest rising and falling with each breath. "I... I need to put my stuff away," you painted, reluctantly pulling back

Patrick leaned back, a mischievous smirk on his face, moving over to lean against your desk. "Sure," he murmured, his gaze lingering on you as you took out some things from your bag. "So, how was practice?" he asked, his voice low, as he looked you up and down.

You scoffed, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as you organized. "Heinous. I keep getting paired with this girl on the team who can't return any of my serves," you replied exasperatedly, glancing over at him.

Patrick raised an eyebrow, "maybe you should just go easy on her."

You shook your head, clicking your tongue in frustration. "I've tried to go easy on her, but she can't even play me when I do that. She acts like it's my fault she can't play for shit," you paused to sigh.

Patrick grinned, tracing a hand up and down your arm. "We both know you're too good for stanford women's tennis," he murmured, moving from the desk to stand behind you, his hands coming to rest on your hips and giving them a quick squeeze.

You whipped your head around, rolling your eyes and scoffing at his comment. "Careful," you say firmly.

Patrick put his hands up in mock surrender, his cocky grin never faltering. "Alright, alright. Sorry, my bad," he said. "You're right."

As an unspoken apology, Patrick moved closer, his hands gently moving up to your waist as he leaned in to kiss your neck softly. His lips left a warm trail on your skin, "I missed you," he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your ear. “So much.”

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him better access, closing your eyes briefly to savor the sensation. "I missed you too," you hummed, your voice softening as you turned to face him fully. Your hands came to rest on his chest. "You know, I wish you would’ve just told me you were coming," you teased, carding your fingers through his hair.

Patrick's playful demeanor softened as he gazed into your eyes, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Sorry again," he murmured sincerely, his breath mingling with yours. "Do you still love me?" he asked, clearly teasing and testing you.

You couldn't help but smile, your fingers threading through the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. "I still love you, even with your elaborate lies," you replied, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "But I have to say I knew something was up. Art was being weirder than normal."

Patrick hummed, his hands gently caressing your sides as he leaned in for another kiss.

"Hey? Are you even listening to me?" you asked, blinking up at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Patrick paused, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. "Sorry, what did you say? I was a little distracted," he said, smiling.

You laughed softly, giving him a light shove. “I said Art was acting weirder than normal. I could tell he was hiding something.”

He shook his head and grinned, suddenly, he scooped you up over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised laugh from you as he carried you to the bed. Playfully flopping you down, his hands on either side of your head as he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips warm and insistent.

"So, what's our plan for tonight?" he asked between kisses, his fingers tracing light patterns on your sides.

You sighed softly, your words catching in your throat as his kisses became more fervent. "Well, there's this party my friend invited me to," you managed to say, struggling to speak coherently. "But last time I went out with Art, it was a shit show," you paused, trying to focus as his lips trailed down your collarbone, "but you're here, so we can do… whatever you want," you finally managed to say, your voice breathless with desire.

"Can we?" Patrick teased, his tone dripping with innuendo, his kisses becoming more urgent and needy.

You sighed deeply, rolling your eyes. "You know, you're impossible," you muttered, shaking your head. "But yes, we can."

Patrick grinned triumphantly, his hands roaming over your body as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hunger for you evident in every touch and movement. "Good," he murmured against your lips. "I think I just want you to be myself tonight."

"Freaky," you quipped, biting your tongue to hide a laugh.

With a self-assured grin, Patrick swiftly removed his T-shirt, revealing his lean and tan body. His gaze never left yours as he leaned back in, his lips finding yours with intensity. Your fingers traced lightly over his chest as you meshed together, and through kisses, you opened your eyes for a moment, gaze fixed on the freckles dotting his nose and cheeks.

"You've got more freckles," you observed with a playful smile, pulling back slightly, teasingly tracing each tiny mark with your fingertip.

Patrick grinned warmly, his eyes crinkling as he removed his lips from yours pulling you into a tight hug. "You're so cute," he murmured, squeezing you against him. His hands gently moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he pulled you closer, lips looking for another kiss with a soft sigh of contentment slipping out. His gaze, filled with adoration and longing, locked onto yours, silently expressing his deep affection.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe. You locked eyes with him, your own expression softening as you smiled, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.

Without breaking eye contact, Patrick's hands moved to the hem of your T-shirt, his touch almost insistent. He lifted the fabric, exposing your skin to the cool air and his heated gaze, with the T-shirt slipped over your head and thrown to the floor, forgotten. His gaze traveled downward, taking in the sight of you, bare-chested in front of him, a cheeky grin began to spread across his face. 

You rolled your eyes, whacking his arm. "Are you 13?" you teased.

Patrick laughed, unfazed as his hands and mouth roamed your newly exposed skin, his lips moving back to your collarbone, placing soft kisses along its length. Your remaining clothes were shed in a flurry, falling to the floor as you both moved with urgency desperately reconnecting.

Finally, as your kisses slowed and the two of you were breathing somewhat heavily, you rolled onto him, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you close, with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

"I love you," Patrick murmured softly, placing a lovingly sweet kiss onto your forehead.

You met his gaze with a soft smile. "Is that just because we had incredible reunion sex?" you teased lightly, a playful challenge in your voice. "Or do you love me all the time?"

Patrick laughed, his fingers moving up and down on your back. "Only for the sex, it's usually worth the plane ticket," he teased back, with a smile. "Just kidding. I love you all the time," he replied earnestly, as a grin started forming on his face.

Leaning up from his chest, you pressed a sloppy kiss against his mouth, your hands tangling into his hair as you felt the corners of his lips curve into a smile against yours. "I knew it," you murmured against his lips, a hint of amusement in your voice.

"Say it back," Patrick urged with a playful grin, attempting to deepen the kiss, but you playfully pulled away before he could capture your lips again.

Rolling your eyes theatrically, you feigned annoyance, though your smile betrayed your true feelings. "Fine," you replied, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I love you too, freak."

[yangkitties]

love in the library ✩ l.at

pairing: lee anton x gn!reader || word count: 0.5k genre: tooth rotting fluff! || warnings: none, actually proofread for once 😁 synopsis: in the sacred tranquility of the library, love thrives between you and anton note: this was written a couple weeks ago when i randomly saw a gif of anton and immediately got hit by a wave of emotions 😘 he is my lil brachio i love him dearly:') also genuinely loved writing this bc hardly had to include any dialogue and i always love that 😁

The rustling of pages and the scratch of pens were the only sounds that permeated the air around the two of you. 

As Anton sat beside you, the silence of the library engulfed you both. It was peaceful, just the two of you in your corner, sunlight streaming through the glass windows. 

Anton continues his work, reviewing his assignments quietly. He occasionally slips you a note in his loopy handwriting, a small ‘how’s it going?’ or a ‘shall we take a break?’ sneaking into your line of sight. You replied back to him under his notes, adding little hearts and smilies to your messages. Anton always had to squint when he tried to read your messages, claiming they were as easy to decipher as a dead language, all thanks to your god awful hand writing. 

Whenever you said yes to taking a break, Anton would drop everything and pull your head to his shoulder. You didn’t mind, yawning as his fingers danced across the expanse of your uniform sleeve. You could vaguely make out some shapes, an occasional ‘I love you’, and sometimes even a random physics formula from class that day. Other times he would rest his own head on the table, placing your hand on top of his hair, a quiet request shining in his eyes. 

Often, you’d use one hand to gently stroke his hair, fingers dipping in and out of his locks, as the other continues scribbling away at your notes. And soon enough you would loose focus, hand coming to a rest atop Anton’s head, pout adorning your face as you frowned at the problems in your paper. Anton would sigh, kiss you knuckles and get back to his own work. He had tried helping you the first few times, but failed miserably, and only made the both of you even more confused than when you began. 

It always went like this on weekdays. Unspoken exchanges of love in the library, side by side as you studied in each other presence. For the both of you, this was enough. Being around each other, sitting together, sharing a space. 

The 3 hours would pass in a flash, the silence never turning awkward or uncomfortable. The silence follows you as the clock strikes 6, and you pack your things before heading home. 

It’s there in the bus ride as you share his earphones, your playlist on shuffle. Head once again finding a home in his shoulder, hands intertwined, the silence keeps you company. 

The silence only breaks on your walk back home from the station as Anton holds out his arm for you, 

‘Shall we, m’lady?’ His expression elicites a giggle from you, hand wrapping around his arm. You smile as you cross the familiar streets, stopping to say hi to the cats in your way. 

Sometimes you rant about your day, talking about all the gossip and drama you heard from your friends. Other times, Anton narrates stories from his classes, his voice quiet, as if he was speaking just for you. 

Nevertheless, it ends as you reach your house. You tiptoe to kiss him, and he’d hug you goodbye, waiting to see you through the door. 

Day in and day out, through the week, you would find yourself in silence with Anton, and that’s all you needed. 

©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost

[scekrex]

IM BACK WITH ANOTHER REQUEST

i will most likely appear often so HAH

So like adam has a band right? And they make copious amounts of merch, like think adam plushies and shit, and ftm or male reader finds this merch in a random store and just decides to splurge on adam plushies and shirts and all this crap because he wants to support his boyfriend yea? It can be fallen adam or angel adam, adam’s adam lmao

(i wanted to add ftm because i am ftm, u can make it just plain male if that works better!)

Nuh uh bitch, you want ftm so we're making it ftm also this turned out a lil short but I hope you like it nonetheless.

That’s my fucking boyfriend, you intolerant cunts

pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader

warnings: language, reader gets misgendered (once)

note: not beta read bc fuck you

Having a famous boyfriend wasn’t always a good thing, especially when said boyfriend was Adam. It was bad enough that basically all of Heaven knew him for being the first man, the fact that Adam had decided to also be the lead singer and the face of his own band made it even worse, because that gave strangers an actual reason to walk up to Adam and talk to him. And now people did not only know Adam, they also knew you. He wasn’t very subtle about dating you - not that you wanted him to be, you found it quite adorable how proud Adam was of having you as his boyfriend. But Heaven’s people could be complicated and less tolerant - a thing you had to learn the hard way.

The intolerance of people had been way worse when the brunette and you had just started dating years ago, back then people didn’t even know Adam was bisexual. You and him were walking through Heaven’s streets, having a nice chat while also enjoying each other's company. The first man had his arm wrapped around your waist, he made it quite obvious that he liked you, not only by the way he looked at you every now and then, but also by his body language. The tip of his wing rested on your shoulder, he had you pressed close to his side - seeming a little overprotective and maybe even possessive.

That was when a small crowd of people surrounded the both of you, taking pictures of you and your boyfriend without your consent and asking Adam a million questions. Out of reflex you pressed your body against Adam’s side, trying desperately to escape the curious eyes and the flashing cameras. Adam was quick to raise his wing and shield you from their view. “How are you?” one of them asked Adam, not noticing that they were interrupting a sweet moment between boyfriends. “Can we take a picture together?” another angel asked as they took a picture of Adam without his consent. “Who’s the chick you’re hiding?” And that question made you tense up. A chick. They thought you were a woman. But before you were able to correct them, the first man pushed the noisy people out of the way - and let’s just say that he wasn’t gentle about it - as he hissed, “That’s my fucking boyfriend, you intolerant cunts.”

But then there were the bright sides of having a famous boyfriend - the merch. Well, actually there were more bright sides than just merch, but seeing shirts with your boyfriend’s face printed on it was quite hilarious to you and the fact that multiple stores in Heaven sold the merch of Adam’s band with such pride made it even better. The store you were in that very day made it even better. The brunette had told you a couple weeks ago that he and his band were working on selling plushies of themselves - he had explained that chicks loved cute shit and given that the majority of their fans were women that made a lot of sense. At least to you and Adam.

You stepped up to the shelves and took a closer look at the new plushies and you chuckled how inaccurate they looked. You didn’t know whether Adam and his band mates wanted them to look like that or if the production simply fucked up, but knowing your boyfriend and his friends, they most likely were too lazy to design them to look accurate. You grabbed one of the Adam plushies off the shelf - it was surprisingly soft - and without thinking twice about it you put the soft plushie in the shape of your boyfriend in your shopping cart. The other plushies on the shelf followed and the shirts hanging from the wall didn’t remain untouched either - let’s just say that you were quite surprised by how many different printed shirts they had with Adam’s face on it, because fuck, there had been a lot.

When you got back home from grocery shopping a couple hours later, Adam chuckled at how you tried to drag the quite heavy bags into the kitchen before he decided to help you with it. “The fuck did you buy? Rocks?” he joked as he lifted the heavy bags onto the kitchen counter. The brunette opened one of the bags to help you put away the groceries and when he was met with one of the plushies he and his band mates started to sell not so long ago, he raised an eyebrow at you. You simply shrugged, grabbed the bag filled with merch and pulled it off the counter, “Someone’s gotta support your ass after all.” And Adam couldn’t really argue against that.

[chelseeebe]

wherever you stray (i follow)

more apocalypse au! yayyy

i actually really am enjoying writing this bc it’s so different.. i haven’t really decided if it’s zombies or UD related but i guess it’s not explicitly mentioned yet.. anyway, there may or may not be an appearance from someone from steve’s past.. we’ll have to see

i’m sorry everything is taking so long.. it’s the festive period and i am working like crazy while also trying to see my friends and acc enjoy the time so my writing time is limited

as always, 18+.

₊ ⊹

steve had never expected life on the road to be so.. fun?

he feels weird even thinking about it because in all honesty, the shit you’d both endured while on this journey had been anything but fun. he thinks, or rather knows, that if it were anyone else but you, he’d have turned back a long time ago.

you’re not easy on him by any means, coaxing him into walking to the next town over after he’d already proclaimed he was done for the night and making him open the scary doors while you stood poised. nevertheless, he enjoyed it.

that was until now, when everything was flipped on its head and you were the one begging to call it a night.

‘steve,’ you warn from somewhere behind him. he barely glances back, keeping on hobbling forward. his leg was throbbing, the pain searing up to his thigh, but he’d never tell you that.

steve had got caught up in some barbed wire a few days ago, the sharp metal had torn his leg to shreds. it was an almighty wound that had set you back a couple of days in the schedule. you’d been petrified of tetanus, asking him hourly if he was sure that he’d had his vaccinations, tenderly prodding the painful area as you muttered a plethora of symptoms of infection.

there wasn’t really much he could do except bandage it up and hope he didn’t die. maybe a few years ago he would’ve freaked the hell out over it but now he’d realised that that never helped anybody. it especially would not help you.

‘i’m fine,’ he grits, stopping to turn and look at you. your face painted with the deepest frown, arms crossed over your chest. it was reminiscent of his mother, how she’d stand a the kitchen table when he’d come home with yet another black eye. except he felt you actually cared, she had just wanted an explanation.

‘no you’re not,’ you assert, as if you knew him better than himself. hey, after this maybe you did. ‘there’s a perfectly good house here.. we can rest for a while and i can check your leg,’ you bargain with him, trying the puppy dog eye technique that very often won him over.

steve holds his hands up, he wasn’t going to let you win this one, not after he had been the sole reason you guys were so behind. ‘i’m okay.. i don’t need to rest, i’ve got at least another two miles in me,’ toothy grin on full display.

‘i’m not going back and forth with you, we’re stopping here for the night.’

he sighs as you stomp angrily up to him, ‘i am fine.. no we’re not. why don’t you just believe me?’

steve thinks he sees hell in your eyes, the scorn of the devil written all over your face, ‘because i love you and i don’t want you to lose your fucking leg for the sake of two extra miles,’ your brows knotted together in pure rage.

he doesn’t respond, decides it’s better for his health not to. rather just nodding, letting you guide him towards the, hopefully, derelict house. your words ring around his head, echoing loudly as you do all of the heavy lifting, checking the house and ensuring there were no nasty surprises.

love.

you said you love him.

he wouldn’t ever admit to it, but he’d been toying with the same thought for at least two weeks now. deciding over and over again that it couldn’t possibly be love, it was too soon. he was just.. infatuated, or something.

but hearing the words straight from your mouth solidified his feelings.

the moment you clear one of the upstairs bedrooms and bundle him inside, his grin is unstoppable. reaching his eyes as he just stands staring, waiting for you to finish barricading the damn door before he speaks.

‘what?’ you question, startled by his stillness, ‘what are you looking at?’

‘what d’you say outside?’ he doesn’t take his eyes off of you even as you rush around, checking the windows and then slinging the heavy bag into the floor.

you blink back at him until it clicks, ‘wha- oh,’ your cheeks burn, suddenly much more interested in the room than him, ‘please don’t.’

‘you said you love me,’ steve beams, ignoring your warning though he’d probably regret it.

‘steve, i didn’t-,’

he cuts you off before you can even finish, not allowing you to play the bashful game, ‘you didn’t mean it? i don’t believe you,’ his unfaltering smile still occupying his entire face, right up to his eyes.

you punch his arm, now stood directly in front of him, ‘i didn’t mean to say it like that,’ your own smile inches onto your lips, he’s almost begging you to let it out, ‘i thought it’d be a little more romantic than this,’ gesturing towards the rundown house you stood in.

‘i don’t think romance exists anymore,’ his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer as you use his shoulders for leverage, ‘say it again.’

you groan, hands coming to connect around his grubby neck, ‘do i have to?’

‘yes.’

steve adores how diffident you become, ducking your head down before the words form and the very quietly squeaking out a tiny, ‘i love you.’

it’s enough for him, his grin growing tenfold, ‘i love you too,’ bumping his nose against yours, drawing your attention back to his face rather than the splintered floorboards.

what’s left of the pale sunlight reflects off of your eye, practically glimmering at him, ‘i know,’ you giggle quietly, ‘you said it in your sleep the other night..’

his smile drops, ‘what? you weren’t supposed to find out like that,’ sighing softly, his stupid, drugged up brain had let it slip before he even had the chance to.

you respond by pressing your sweet lips to his, god he wishes he had some chapstick. you deserve more than his cracked lips.

far more than this world could offer you.

though he would certainly try his hardest.

-

steve normally took first watch because he knew if he didn’t, you’d never wake him up for his shift, rather letting him sleep all night but tonight he doesn’t argue. his leg hurts too much to waste time going back and forth with you.

it’s only when he wakes up to a room full of sunlight that he starts to question how long he’d been out. there’s an echo of his name coming from somewhere, still too encompassed by sleep to figure out what the hell was going on.

‘look who’s finally awake,’ the voice starts but it’s not you.

you’re not next to him either, his arms cradle the pillow where your body should’ve been. that’s when he turns, the bedroom door flung open and a familiar figure looms in the doorway.

‘tommy?’ he croaks out, sitting up against the headboard.

what the hell was happening?

you’re nowhere to be seen, the makeshift barricade pushed back against the wall rather than where it should’ve been. his mind instantly flashes to the worst case scenario, you’ve been taken or tommy has done something to you.

holy shit.

‘stevie! i didn’t know if you’d recognise me,’ tommy leers, still lingering in the doorway, hand poised on his gun.

steve hadn’t seen the boy in years at this point, not properly. they passed each other in the halls but after the whole ordeal with jonathan in the alley, they hadn’t spoke since. which steve was eternally grateful for, the red head was in simple terms, an asshole. there was no part of him that wanted to be involved with people like that.

‘what the hell are you doing here?’ steve questions, voice still heavy with sleep.

god he hopes this is just a bad dream and any second now, he’ll wake up and you’ll be by his side.

tommy’s face drops in faux-offence, ‘c’mon man, is that any way to treat an old friend?’ the side of his lips curling up. he always was a horrible person, provoking people til they had no choice but to respond.

‘how’d you know i was here?’ he asks, deciding not to mention you on the off chance you had just run off and tommy had no idea of your existence.

‘i was searchin’ houses.. thought you’d be smarter than this man, sleepin’ with no protection,’ his eyes fall to steve’s leg, eyebrows raised with opportunity, ‘and you’re hurt,’ the boy tuts, ‘this should be easy then.’

steve stiffens up, his bag was on the floor next to the bed, there’s no chance he’s faster than tommy.. he’d never get it in time.

it’s then that steve’s eyes flit to you, appearing silently behind tommy in the doorway. his heart drops. you were alive. tommy clocks on immediately, eyes following steve’s gaze to your looking figure behind. but before he can turn around fully, the baseball bat connects with his cranium, his body falling to the floor with a mighty thump.

you stand staring at the lifeless body for a moment, chest heaving as you step over him and over to the bed. wide-eyed and trembling, god knows how much of that you heard.

‘oh my god you’re okay,’ steve starts, reaching up to hold onto your cheeks, ‘i thought something had happened.. jesus christ where were you?’ he’s trying not to sound like such an overbearing mother but it’s not exactly working.

‘your leg was hot.. i went to go find medicine, i barricaded it from the other side but i didn’t think that asshole would show up,’ your hand caresses his atop of your cheek, ‘i got the medicine though,’ you look somewhat hopeful, pulling the bottle from your pocket and presenting it to him.

once steve has calmed down a little, he takes two of whatever it is, looking nervously at his ex-friend still on the floor, ‘i can’t believe you killed him..’ he trails off, even if he didn’t particularly like tommy, he didn’t want him dead.

your face screws up, pausing as you shove your belongings into your rucksack, ‘he’s not dead steve,’ you state, features contorted as you glare at him.

‘oh,’ he chuckles awkwardly, relief washing over him. ‘well shit,’ a smile twitches at the corner of his lips, taking over when you shake your head in disappointment. look, he wasn’t the brightest, never had been.

‘he’s probably gonna wake up soon so we need to get the hell outta’ here,’ you frown, glancing at the lifeless body.

you trundle over, taking the man’s gun from his hand, patting his pockets for anymore concealed weapons he may have. pulling a small switchblade from his back pocket, steve recognises it immediately. he’d been there when tommy had carved his and carol’s initials into some old tree in the woods by school. he wonders if it’s still there now.

‘how d’you know this guy anyway?’ you ask, slipping the knife into your own pocket. he watches dubiously, he’d never been a thief.

‘we were best friends..’ he swallows, maybe he had left some things out about his life before the end of the world. there’s no way to explain why they drifted apart other than to admit to how cruel he once was. ‘just drifted, you know?’ it wasn’t exactly a lie and he’s not sure you’d even care but now didn’t feel like the appropriate time to admit to all of his wrongdoings.

you nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder, ‘sucks.. but i’m not gonna lie, he didn’t seem like a great person,’ shrugging as steve finds his feet, getting off of the bed for the first time in hours.

‘he wasn’t,’ again, not a lie.

you hum in response and steve looks to the floor. he wasn’t keen on discussing the ins and outs of his friendship with tommy hagan right now. or ever really.

-

the rest of the journey up here had been pretty non-eventful. his leg was healing nicely and he was able to walk for at least another hour without complaining out loud. most people had obviously found communities, not daring to go out in the road anymore.

without mention of the run in with tommy, it had just been just the two of you. well you and the grotesque, rotting monsters that roamed around the forest. he thinks the cold must slow them down as your gun goes, mostly, unused.

steve has never seen you look quite so excited. the moment you’d crossed the boundary into your town, you’d been babbling nonstop about where you grew up. pointing out important locations and silly details about things he couldn’t even picture. his eyes instinctively roll when you mention the now decrepit diner you had your first date. he can’t help it.

it’s only when you near what he assumes is your neighbourhood that you quiet down, holding onto his hand with an iron clad grip. your nails dig into the grime covered skin when you spot the gargantuan make-shift wall up in front. he doesn’t squirm or pull away, instead he whispers a small it’s okay as you near the cul-de-sac.

‘what if they’re not there?’ you ask, shrinking into yourself.

he doesn’t have the right words to assure you but he’ll try his hardest, ‘then.. then we’ll find them.’ he hasn’t a clue what lies on the other side of that wall, perhaps the people behind it weren’t friendly and you’d never find out or maybe there weren’t even any people left.

but you’ll find out together and that’s all that matters.

someone’s head pokes over the top of the wall, gun poised at steve’s head. they must be stupid if they think he’s the one they should be scared of.

‘stop right there, don’t come any closer,’ the heavily armed woman shouts down, ‘what do you want?’

steve looks to you, unsure if he should even attempt to speak right now. his fingers squeeze yours for silent reassurance, there’s a voice above but he can’t see who it’s coming from, tucked behind the wall as they inevitably discuss your fate.

‘i used to live here,’ you speak, just loud enough for the first woman to peer down at you. she looks back towards the other mystery voice and then another face appears, eyes like saucers when they spot you.

‘open the gate,’ she orders, ‘open the gate now!’ barking at the other lady who jumps to it.

steve stands in quiet wonderment, glancing back at you with your mouth hung open. so you must know each other. or is that your mom? now he truly understands how you must’ve felt coming out of that nurses office to a bunch of strangers.

but you don’t let go of his hand when the gate creaks open just enough to let the two of you through. the houses are all more or less how he imagined they’d looked before everything started.

‘oh my god,’ you sputter out, dropping his hand to jog over to the faceless woman, throwing your arms around her neck as she pulls you in.

you don’t look particularly similar but steve has no idea what your parents look like. he wasn’t quite so prepared to meet the parents though he’d had weeks and weeks to think about what to say.

who even is he? not your boyfriend. yet. maybe it just wouldn’t be brought up in the midst of all the reunions.

he knows you love each other, you’d said that much, that he’d hobbled across state lines for you and would do just about anything to make sure you were safe so, did labels even matter in the apocalypse?

‘i can’t believe you’re here,’ the lady cries, still wrapped up in your arms. the locals are looking on with a mixture of confused and joyous looks on their faces.

‘neither can i,’ you sniff, pulling back and looking at her, hands still firmly on her arms. ‘are they here?’ you rush out excitedly, full of hope.

the woman’s, who is still yet to be introduced to, face falls, her voice dropping an octave as she speaks, ‘baby..’ she tremors through the sentence. ‘they left to go and find you.. i don’t- they haven’t come back..’

your smile drops immediately, steve’s heart sinks. he couldn’t begin to imagine how you felt. the pair of you had made it across multiple states, lived through steve’s injury and evil past friends for nothing.

he supposes that it wasn’t for nothing exactly. despite the bickering and rumbling stomachs, it had brought the two of you closer.

now his heart breaks the way yours does when you bury your face into his chest, shoulders shaking as you wet his already ruined shirt.

-

the next few hours are a blur of introductions, meeting people you called neighbour not so long ago. the now-identified woman was called janet, who had told him all about how they fortified the neighbourhood and their efforts to keep everyone alive. they’d done something similar to the school, kept the water system running so they could clean and drink and hoarded supplies the second they realised the army weren’t coming for them.

this was followed by a tour of the place and then your house. it had been left untouched in the hopes that your parents would come back eventually. dusty pictures of you in school, at college and one he particularly likes of you at christmas, nose scrunched up as you grin into the distance.

maybe he’d snag that one for himself.

it’s only when you bundle him into your room that you really let go. sobbing in his arms on your bed. surrounded by a time capsule of the past. if it felt weird for him, it must be utterly awful for you.

‘i thought they’d be here,’ you choke through tears, ‘they were supposed to be here,’ fingers grabbing at his biceps.

steve’s not known for his quick thinking but he realises there’s not much else he can say. the situation would seem hopeless to most but he wasn’t letting you give up now. not after you’d dragged him thousands of miles to get here.

‘you were at college in indiana, right?’

it’s enough for you to stop crying and look up at him through your wet lashes, ‘yeah.. why?’

you had never really spoken about college. he knew you went to college in indianapolis, that was obvious from the ratty letterman jacket you’d been wearing when he stumbled upon your camp, but that was about it.

‘so we go back to indiana,’ his fingers tangle in your hair, unsure if a smile would be completely inappropriate.

‘steve.. we-,’ you go to object but he can see the cogs turning in your brain, it’s the only sensible suggestion either of you had. ‘you would do that?’

this is where he smiles, the corners of his mouth twitching upward, ‘of course,’ he’s not even sure why it’s even a question.

he’d do anything, traipse after you to the ends of the earth if you asked. hell, he’d do it even if you didn’t.

he continues on, ‘we’re in this together now.. like, forever,’ pressing his forehead to yours, thumb coming to swipe over your sodden cheek.

there’s hope, or at least a tinge of optimism back in your eye, ‘forever?’

steve nods, caressing your dirtied face as if it were precious porcelain, ‘is that alright with you?’

maybe, in a roundabout way, that was him asking you if you’d be his girlfriend. he knows he probably should ask properly but he’s sure you know.

it’s contagious, his smile, your lips curving as you blink slowly, ‘sounds good to me.’

that night, you’re fully relaxed, a kind of placid state that steve hadn’t seen since the school. normally, you’re on high alert even in bed. your muscles stiff as you let him sleep. but this time, he lets you drift off first.

his fingers glide through your now clean hair, eyelids fluttering shut on his chest. he thinks you might even start purring.

instead, your breaths get deeper, and slower until you no longer even murmur in response to whatever he was saying. and eventually, steve drifts off too. relieved that you can both sleep tonight, both feeling a sense of security that hadn’t been there for weeks.

-

steve awakens suddenly at what he determines the middle of the night, your palms clammy as they grab hurriedly onto his chest. you’re panting, desperately trying to steady your breath when his arms tighten around your shoulders.

‘what’s wrong?’ he asks, still in that confusing transition between sleep and awake, his eyes struggle to adjust to the dark room.

you exhale, the outline of your face suddenly begins to form, ‘i had a bad dream, i’m sorry,’ chin pointed upwards. your face is wet, eyes glossy with tears.

‘it’s okay.. it’s okay,’ he soothes, heart still pounding rapidly even after he knows no creatures have mattered down the door and had a chomp on your leg.

you swallow loudly, still gazing up at him when his head rests back on the pillow. ‘i love you,’ you squeak into the quiet night, the third time he’d ever heard it tumble out of your lips.

it mostly went unspoken. coming through in little gestures, feeding him his medicine or scratching your nails into his scalp the nights the pain was too much to sleep. he liked it that way. as if your love was only for the two of you.

this world didn’t deserve to witness that.

[sweetsbfreex]

the binky garden (the binky fairy pt 2)

summary: part two of the binky fairy. "Steve tries to make it up to y/n but we aren’t letting up so easily and gives the silent treatment bc they were supposed to be a team but doesn’t let up for like a couple hours or until the next day and then just fluff ? Idk if that even makes sense" +

""okay but now we need to see steve grovel and work his ass off to please his wife and get out of the doghouse right? right??????"

in the dad!mafia!steve universe

pairings: dad!mafia!steve rogers x wife!reader

warning: none really

-

After an hour or so working in his office, Steve heads to bed.

The moment he becomes in close proximity to the bed, his eyes fall on your sleeping figure, and the alarms in his head go off. His wife is facing away from his side of the bed. He noticed the wrinkle between your pinched eyebrows. That’s never a good sign. She went to bed simmering.

Most nights, you and he cuddle face-to-face every night. His palm would spoon the back of your head, as you rested your head on his chest, and their legs tangled together. As long as you were close to each other, you both were happy. 

Steve sighs, strips off his shirt and sweatpants. Leaving him in his underwear for the night. He knows his wife in and out, and he couldn’t blame her stubbornness on this. He had fucked up exponentially and all on his own account. 

Once he’s set his watch, signet ring, and wedding ring on the matching dish y/n had made years ago. He’s able to relax under the soft duvet, his body is able to finally relax when it hits the luxurious, plush mattress. Then, he’s rolling over to cuddle his girl. He's as close as he can get. With his arm thrown over your waist and his nose pressed against the back of your neck. 

“Just because I am allowing you to cuddle with me doesn’t mean I'm no longer upset,” you mumble sleepily. 

“What?” Steve utters, propping his body up with his elbow. 

“You heard me,” you say sleepily. 

“Fine.” Steve replied curtly. He repositions himself, before placing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Don’t push it,” you tell him, bringing a hand to push his face back.

Not only does it hurt, but it fucking sucks. He doesn’t enjoy the fact that you’re so upset over this. Not even allowing a pert kiss on the cheek. But he loves you just as much as he respects you. 

What he hates most of all is how you wouldn’t look at him as you spoke, let alone open your eyes, as you feigned sleep. 

This was going to be one long, tortuous night. 

-

The next morning, you wake up alone in bed. Fortunately, you can’t help but think. It gives you the chance to avoid the elephant in the room a bit longer. 

You get yourself ready for the day. Your stomach in turns to be honest. You didn’t like fighting with Steve. You absolutely hated it. And unlike most, you could say it didn’t happen often between you two.

Nonetheless, you’re finally ready for the day. You walk down the extravagant staircase in mom jeans, sneakers, and one of Steve’s tee shirts (ironically enough). 

Elysia sits in her highchair. Her hair is in bunnies as she shrieks along to the Frozen soundtrack playing from Steve’s phone. 

Steve stands in the kitchen, cutting an apple for Elysia. 

You walk up to Elysia, hand cupping her cheek. 

“Good morning, baby.” 

You go to kiss her plump cheek, only to be met with a whine from your little one. Elysia shakes her head, pouts, and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“No! Mean mommy. Take away my binky,” she spouts, eyes closed as she looks away. 

You stood to your full height, mouth dropped in surprise. Your eyes tie to Steve’s distraught, surprised ones for a millisecond, before you turn back to the pouting (age)

You know your toddler has the dramatics of a soap opera. This wasn’t a small spiff of you having her use the potty in the morning, even though she didn’t want to. She truly was cross with you. In her eyes, you had taken a treasured item from her. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. 

“Honey, don’t you remember what we talked about? The fairies need them for the smaller babies who don’t have one.”

She keeps her pout, but you watch her resolve begin to break when she finally decides to face you. 

“I miss my binky.” she says solemnly, looking up at you with those big eyes. Eyes Steve could never hold out against.

You know exactly what she’s doing, but you won’t fall for it and give in. As much as you want to pinch her cheeks and pop her binky into her mouth, you don’t. 

You sigh, “Did I ever tell you about the really nice gifts the binky fairy leaves?”

She shakes her head with wide, eager eyes. Just waiting for you to spit it out!

-

Even though you had slowly broken Elysia’s resolve. The day continued with Elysia being slightly short with you. She didn’t prefer you to hold her, didn’t want you to feed her, and god forbid you try and play with her. She wouldn’t allow it without the promise of getting her binky back. For a two-year-old, she knew exactly how to play her cards.

It wasn't until a few hours later that Elysia toddles to you, her tail between her legs as she apologized. Or tries to, as the three of you have been working on it for a while. You know it’s for sure Steve's doing. 

In addition to Elyisa’s newfound attitude grew the tension between you and Steve. He was feeling guilty over the whole thing, and you didn’t feel any amount of remorse in that. 

At one point in the afternoon, you roll your eyes walking past the white roses spread about your bedroom. And two purses you’ve been eyeing for a while sitting pretty on your side of the bed. A lovely note attached to them. 

Currently, you’ve made your way to the kitchen and are rummaging through the fridge for you cranberry brie bites. 

Elysia was down for her nap so this would be the perfect time to go for the kill. Steve shadows over your hunched figure as you look for something in the fridge. His hand caressing your hip as he tried to get your attention. 

“Doll” his voice tender as he says your name. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice, you note.

You ignore him, continuing your search for the brie. Naturally, you can’t help the butterflies when Steve’s other hand moves your hair to the side, pressing light kisses to the back of your neck. 

“I’m upset with you. Did you forget?” You can continue your search, begging your voice to remain calm.

“What do I have to do to make you not so upset with me?” He strategically lowers his voice in that soft, sultry way. The one that makes you so weak that you end up falling in bed with him every time. 

You ignore him again, taking in his roaming hand.

“Hm?” He kisses between your shoulder and neck. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. 

“There has to be something. Anything.” 

You turn abruptly, “All I know is: I’m still really pissed off and a little hurt. And I’m not being dramatic this time, you let me think I had finally weaned her off her pacifier, just for me to end up being the bad guy because you were sneaking it to her this whole time” you huff. “And you shoving yourself on me is not helping.”

“Shoving myself?” He sounds offended and taken aback at the last part of your vehement.  

“Yes.” 

Maybe shoving wasn’t the perfect word choice. 

“Okay.” He exhales, resting his hands on his hips. “I’ve let you simmer in your anger all day, I’ve given you your space, and I’ve been patient. But now we’re talking it out.”

“And if I don’t want to?,” You tell him, raising an eyebrow in challenge.  

But Steve has had it. His fingers gripping your chin gently as he turns your face, “Sit down, Y/n. I’m not asking again.” 

You’re taken aback by his gesture, but in a concerningly good way. You concede as you follow him to the main living room. You sit on the couch while Steve makes a point to sit on the center table, his knees brushing yours. 

“Why are you upset?” Is the first thing Steve says. 

“Oh my god, Steve. Why do you think?”

“Well obviously I understand the reason, I just don’t understand why. It’s just a pacifier, what's the big deal.”

She loves this man with her whole heart, but my god, could he be frustrating at times.

“Right now isn't just about a binky, then it’ll turn to curfews, deciding when she can date, when she can dye her hair— we’re supposed to be a unified front. And I don’t want us to do things behind each other’s backs because we disagree. and letting Lys see that too is another thing. I don’t wanna seem like a bad parent, Steve, and it sucks that you let me celebrate this milestone when you knew it wasn’t true.”

“Baby,” Steve breathes as he grasps your hand and pulls on your arm, tugging you onto his lap. When you’re seated, he caresses the cut of your jaw, kissing the corner of your lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see it that way and it wasn’t my intention to hurt you either. I promise it was only supposed to be one time, but it got out of hand when she kept pulling those damn puppy eyes.” 

You gently laugh at the last part. “She can be very convincing,” you tell him.

“She can…and I don’t want you to think I don’t respect any of the opinions you have towards Elysia.”

You smile at his admission, “I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

“It’s alright, I understand. And while we’re at it, I don't like you walking around as if i’m not here. I mean, not even a good morning?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll work on it, I promise.” You pull his face to yours. “Do you want a blowie to make up for it?” You mumble against his lips. 

Steve smirks at your proposal, dragging a hand down to squeeze your ass, “As long as I get to show you how sorry I am.”

“Deal.” you kiss his lips and before you know it, you’re being thrown back onto the couch. Steve hovers over you, his gold pendant resting against your collarbone. “Steve!” you laugh. 

Steve lifts himself up with one arm, while he turns the other to glance at his exorbitant watch, “We have about fifteen minutes until she wakes up from her nap.” Steve informs you, descending to place a peck on your lips before eagerly tugging your jeans down. 

-

It’s a bright and sunny day. The three of you are in your backyard, behind the gazebo where your flowers, fruits, and veggies stay.

You and Steve are knelt on either side of Elysia who stands with her bag of binkies clutched in her hands. 

“You ready?” You ask her softly, running your hand over her hair. 

“Will I get lots of stuff?” She looks up to you. 

“Lots and lots of stuff.” You promise. 

“Okay..” she’s still unsure about it, but the promise of new things was enough to reel her in. 

The three of you begin to shovel a hole big enough for the ziploc bag. When you're done, you all sit back. 

“Ready, babydoll?” Steve asks. He smiles when she nods her head. 

“I am so proud of you,” you praise your little one, kissing her cheek. 

Elysia smiles at the praise and quickly drops the ziploc bag into the hole, “We can cover it.”

So the three of you do just that and then she picks up her watercan to water the spot. 

-

The next morning is like christmas. Elysia comes running into your bedroom. The bed is still too high for her, so she stands at the end of the bed, jumping in her spot.

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

“Lys,” you groan. 

“We have to go outside!” 

When Elysia’s contagious energy rubs off on you and Steve. The three of you finally make it outside. Pajamas and all. She was eager more than ever to make it outside. None of your voices had even settled before you got out here, voices still gravely and full of sleep. 

You and Steve each hold one of Elysia’s hands as you walk to the garden. She babbles on with excitement, trying to get her father to indulge in it too. Her father who trudged along and rubbed the scruff of his beard and eyes every five seconds. 

But when Elysia finally sees the flourished part of where her Binkys are planted, her small hands cover her mouth in surprise. She bounces in glee, running towards the patch. Her excited giggles fill the air and her eyes brighten, in awe at every gift. 

There’s a variation of sealed lollipops, sealed cake pops, and new fisher-price little people figures. Everything on sticks looks like they were grown from the ground. 

“Mommy! Daddy! Look, look, look” she points behind her. “I gots new stuff!”

-

a/n: after months of waiting, i hope you enjoyed it!!!! a lot of people asked for a part 2, so i hope i lived up to your expectations <333

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback 💐

[pinky-ghostface]

Two Valentines Day Surprises

summary: It's Valentine's Day, a very important holiday to Alphonse and his Boo, but Seth is across the country and can't get back to them in time. Alphonse wants to cheer the reader up with a sweet surprise, but neither of them are prepared for the true surprise meant for them.

content/warnings: nsfw, femdom, pegging, strap on blowjob, deepthroating, nipple play, mmf threesome, hair pulling, p in v sex, afab gn!reader (no mention of boobs but they are referred to once as "a cruel mistress")

word count: 4.2k

wanna read it on ao3?:

A/N: I actually began this a couple years ago but finally decided to finish it😁 and things have def changed in the canon since I started. I think I thought after the Jessie/Derek situation Seth wouldn't want to settle down just yet in the little town he wasn't wanted in so long ago and would want to explore his freedom after prison and like, go on cryptid hunts or smth😚 so.. ig this is a semi AU where he does odd jobs across the country and experiences everything the road has to offer a lonely cowboy like him lol. and definitely listening to Orville Peck. also frequently communicating w Alphonse and SugarBoo bc they luv each otherrr🥰 and sometimes taking a break from his nomadic life to visit them. enjoy!

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

As I pushed my key into the lock of my front door, I heard a muttered curse from inside my home. Confused, I opened the door and peered into the kitchen to see my boyfriend’s very shapely, and completely bare, ass with just two thin strips of fabric tied behind his waist and neck to feign at covering him. “Al? I didn’t think you were coming over so soon?” 

He whirled around, revealing that he was wearing nothing but my favorite apron. “Oh! Hey, boo! Uhh, what time is it… I guess I thought I’d have more time for your surprise, heh.” He grinned at me sheepishly. 

“Surprise? Thought we were just gonna do dinner and a movie at home.” My eyes slid over his body as I took off my coat.

He smiled and moved closer so that he could loosely circle his arms around my hips. “I know, but I could tell you were kind of bummed about Seth not being here for Valentine’s Day, and I wanted to do somethin’ nice and romantic for you to cheer you up.” 

I smiled a little sadly and leaned my head into his shoulder. It was hard not seeing our other partner every day, but we both understood how important traveling and going on adventures was to him. We texted and called often, and Alphonse and I had been together long enough before Seth crashed back into Al’s life and cannonballed into mine that we were more than okay on our own. We talked about him daily, and on days when one of us missed him a little too much the other would be there to reminisce, joke, cuddle, and comfort until the ache went away. 

“But I guess that didn’t really work out, huh?” Al said, interrupting my thoughts. 

I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?...oh.” I looked over his shoulder at the rest of my kitchen for the first time since walking in. I guessed I hadn’t smelled the burnt cupcakes that were sitting dejectedly on the stovetop. They were black on top and red goo was periodically dripping over the sides of the muffin tin.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “You’re lucky I already cleaned up the spilled cake mix from the walls, the eggs I dropped, the… exploded buttercream frosting.” He shuddered. “Sorry, baby. I kind of messed up your kitchen for nothing. I don’t think those abominations can be saved.” 

I smiled up at him and brought my hand to his cheek. “Al, it’s fine. Really. It won’t take too long to scrub out the muffin tray, so we can have even more time together tonight. I’m glad you came over early!”

He pulled me closer and buried his head in the crook of my neck, whining. “I know, but I had, like, a whole thing planned out! I was gonna make a bunch of red velvet cupcakes for you so you could take a break from baking for once, and turn the lights down and do the ‘rose petals on the floor going to the bath’ thing and meet you in the bathroom with the cupcakes like this,” he gestured to himself with one arm, his face still in my neck. “And I was gonna feed you your cupcakes in the bath and give you a back rub and maybe even try to call Brown Eyes if he hadn’t left his rest stop yet…”

“Babe,” I said, halting his rambling. “We can still do all that, even without the baked surprise. I mean, I was pretty surprised just coming home to this, anyway.” I ran a finger underneath the apron ribbon on his waist. ‘I have so many treats already in the fridge for us, you have no idea. We’re gonna have a great Valentine’s Day.” 

He held me tighter and nodded but said nothing for a moment. After a few seconds, I heard him sigh through his nose. “I just miss him, y’know? This was supposed to be the first Valentine’s we all spent together. It just sucks we didn’t tell him we wanted to do something sooner so he could have time to get up here. I wanted to make it up to you a little bit.” 

Oh. I turned my head to look at him so that he was forced to take his head off my shoulder, and I wound my arms more fully around his waist, he and I chest-to-chest and my face looking up at his pouting one. “Alphonse, you don’t have anything to make up to me. I know this isn’t what we were picturing, but it isn’t either of our faults, and I’m still prepared to have an awesome, romantic, sexy Valentine’s Day with you. Seth should be stopping for the night near New Mexico in a couple hours; we can talk to him then. Until then we can have plenty of fun on our own, right?” 

Al smiled and leaned in even closer so our lips were just barely touching. “Yeah,” he breathed. “That sounds good. Now we’ve got more time to spoil each other, anyway. We don’t need that crybaby to have fun.” 

I laughed against his mouth. “Careful. You looked about ready to cry, yourself when I walked in.” His lips curved up playfully for a moment before quickly leaning in to kiss me. My hands gripped his waist more firmly in surprise, and he tightened his arms even further around me, pressing us fully together so his hands could move up my back. My left hand drifted downward to shamelessly squeeze his bare ass cheek. As my fingertips drew closer inward, they brushed something… plastic? 

I broke the kiss to look up at him in shock. I was met with cocked eyebrows and a toothy grin in silent response. “That would be the other part of your surprise. You’ve been puttin’ out vibes that you wanted to take control lately, and I thought tonight would be the perfect time to make a night of it.” 

I gasped in elation, smiling wildly, and kissed him hard for a moment. As I pulled away, I gave him a light swat on the butt and told him, “Get the strap.” 

“Yes, Boss!” he said, still grinning, but instead of moving past me to reach the bedroom, he turned around and retrieved my bubblegum pink strap on dildo and harness from behind the coffee pot on a nearby counter. 

Naughty boy, he’d planned out more than I’d thought. 

He handed it to me, smug as ever. I undressed quickly and performed the awkward, yet familiar dance of shimmying into the harness. Al and I exchanged one more lingering, messy kiss before he took a step back and sank to his knees. 

My eyebrows quirked in surprise as I gazed down at him, amused and loving. “Aw, you wanna choke on my strap, baby?” I teased. He smoothed his hands up my thighs, half-lidded eyes never leaving their gaze. “You know I’d love nothing more,” he mumbled against the tip. He took it into his mouth, sucking softly, and worked his way to the base quickly. As the tip hit the back of his throat, he pushed on, gagging slightly. I raked my nails through the hair on the back of his head, grabbing a handful to help him down. He choked loudly, and his hands tightened on the backs of my thighs, nearly making my knees buckle. A strand of drool hung down, reaching his chest, and he moaned deeply through his nose as he continued to deepthroat me. By now his cheeks were rosy flushed and tears were begging to fall from their perch on his long, dark lashes. “So pretty,” I murmured, pushing my fingers through his bright, slightly bleach-damaged hair more gently now, softly scratching his scalp. He looked up at me with an expression that could only be described as adoring, and I loved him for it. “My good boy.”

“Mmm…” he groaned at the praise. 

I tugged him off my strap and squeezed his shoulder, telling him to get up. When he got on his feet, he kissed me hard, wet mouth exploring mine, our teeth clashing a bit. He held on to me tightly and I embraced him, enjoying his being so desperate already. It was really no surprise he had such an oral fixation with all the lollipops he sucked on all day. 

With my arms around his waist and hands rubbing his lower back, I turned my face upwards so my lips could brush his ear and whisper: “Since you’ve done such a good job of getting my cock wet, I’d guess you were ready to let me bend you over that table and make you see tweety birds.” 

He lifted his head up from my shoulder and smiled dopily. “If I had to guess, I’d say you were onto somethin’, boo.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine to whisper to me huskily. “I want you to mess me up.” 

With that confirmation, I pulled him with me toward my kitchen table, kissing him all the while. I turned us so his back was to the table and ran my hands up his chest, to his shoulders, to his neck, and gently began to tug at the bow holding the apron up. “I have been dying to tear this off you since the second I walked in,” I huffed hurriedly. 

Alphonse leaned down so our faces were even and looked at me with dark, dilated eyes. “Well, I promise not to keep you waiting if you promise not to tease.” I laughed and gripped his chin harshly. “Al, sweetheart, you’re really not in a position to be making deals like that.” I slowly pulled at the ribbon string in my hand until the bow loosened, and the light fabric that sparsely covered him fell off his defined chest, spilling around the attractive “v” of his hips and exposing his dark happy trail. “If you want me to give you what you need, you’ll need to accept that I can do anything I want to you.” I leaned in to nibble and suck at his neck, and he sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth. My other hand teased down the top of his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, and paused to tweak a nipple. He yelped a bit, and when I let go of his chin, his head rolled back. My hand continued down to his hard cock, his raspy breaths keeping time with slow, languid strokes while his hips tried to buck up into my fist. I circled his tip with my thumb lightly, teasingly.

“You’re a cruel mistress, you know that?” he said to the ceiling. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love it, but it’s true. And as for what position I’m s’posed to be in, I’ll let you worry about that.” He opened one eye and looked at me. “You know I’ve never objected to you doing anything you wanted to me before.” 

“Hmm,” I mused, finishing a necklace of hickies across his clavicle. “Well, if that’s the case…” I grabbed his hips and turned him around quickly. He grunted in surprise and planted his hands on the table quickly to catch himself. He looked back at me with wide yet delighted eyes. “You wouldn’t mind if I finish what you started, would you?” I held the base of his plug in my fingertips, twisting it just a little, for emphasis. 

“Hah!... “Course not, Boss. You know I’m yours to play with however you please.” he said, a bit strained, and leaned even farther over the table. “Good,” I whispered, and eased the buttplug out of him. He exhaled slowly and forcefully, and eased his back into an arch. I placed it on the counter next to me. I smoothed one hand up his spine, admiring the pale expanse of his back and the cute pink bow still tied around his waist. With the other, I lined my pink dildo up to his hole and slowly, slowly, began to push in. “Mm!” Alphonse cried, stifled. I eased in carefully, rubbing his back and cooing at him the whole time.

Once completely inside, Al moaned loudly and pushed his hips back more to try and grind on my cock. To his disappointment, I almost completely pulled out of him. But before he could protest, I swiftly pushed in all the way, rubbing against his prostate. 

“Fuck, ohh, christ,” he choked out. I laughed a little at his reaction and kept fucking him the same way: slow and hard. 

I took the time to admire him- his fluffy hair mussed up, his cheek smooshed into the table, his eyebrows drawn together wantonly, and deep, rhythmic moans falling from them. My eyes drifted lower, loving the way the sheer of sweat on his lean back made his skin shine. Even lower, that bubble butt was still making me lose focus, rippling from the force of my hips meeting it with every thrust. 

And with every thrust, the base of the dildo ground into my clit, making me drive forward more quickly, more harshly, chasing the sweet sensation. I unknowingly gave Alphonse exactly what he wanted, it seemed, because he melted beneath me. His knees nearly gave out and he looked back at me, panting slightly. “Does that feel good, baby?” I grinned at him. “Nnghh,” he replied, letting his head fall back down. 

The building pleasure below and seeing his sweet expression gave me an idea for something else I wanted from him. 

I slowed down and pumped into him a few more times, then pulled out gingerly; he whined in confusion and tried to turn around. I leaned over him fully and put my lips next to his ear. “I want to ride your dick so I can see your pretty face when you come in me.” He picked his head up again, leaving behind a small pool of saliva, and grinned tiredly and replied, “If I can walk to the couch, you can make this already good Valentine’s Day a great one, boo.” 

When I pulled him up, the apron fell off him completely and he hugged me around my neck, leaning most of his weight on me. It must have looked funny, this lanky guy hanging off me, half-carrying him to the living room, and shoving him backwards onto my couch. He fell with little effort and a small oof. He looked up at me as I wriggled out of the harness, kicked it aside, and moved to straddle his thighs, and he said breathlessly, “Come take what’s yours.”

His dick was flushed pink and leaking against his stomach. So pretty. I took it in my hand and stroked it slowly, and at the same time leant forward and kissed him firmly. “I intend to,” I whispered against his lips, to which he smiled and squeezed my hips in his hands. I lifted my hips and guided his cock to my hole, and slowly sank down, moaning. I was already so wet from fucking him, and he slid in so easily. As the backs of my thighs met his hips, he threw his head back and let out a long, low sound through parted lips. With one hand on his chest and the other beside his head, I began to rock slowly, murmuring praise to him all the while. His hands slid up my body and he was begging me to go faster between whimpers, so I gently took his wrists in both my hands and pinned them on either side of his head on the armrest. He flexed his arms, but didn’t try to break free. His eyes were squeezed shut as I sucked on his neck, leaving a new rainbow of hickies. 

As I worked my way up to his jawline, I heard him suck in a harsh breath and he tried to sit up quickly. I blurted his name, confused, and sat back to look at him. His wide-eyed gaze was fixed behind me, towards the door, and I heard a low chuckle. Before I could turn around in surprise, or get myself off my man’s dick so I could fight off an intruder, a warm, rough hand curled around my waist and a familiar face leaned its chin on my shoulder.

“Well, ain’t this a pretty sight to come home to,” a deep voice drawled. He may have also said something teasing us for having so much fun without him, but Alphonse or I’d have no way of knowing because once I- ahem- removed him, we were all over Seth, hugging him and asking how on earth he made it all the way here. Once we’d settled in a pile, all of us kind of sitting on everyone else, he began to explain.

“You knuckleheads really thought I’d miss Valentine’s Day?” he laughed between kisses. “I’m no dummy, I know how y’all feel about it. I just thought I’d surprise you and tell you I was farther away than I was, but I’ve been making my way back to you for the last five days.” He had one arm around my shoulders and cupped Alphonse’s face with the other. “I thought when I got back y’all would be moping around, missin’ me. Instead, I come home to you both screwing like jackalopes without a care in the world.” he teased, pouting. 

Alphonse huffed. “What, we’re just supposed to spend our favorite holiday cryin’ our eyes out over you? That ain’t fair!”

“Mmm, I think he just means he missed being included in our cuddle puddle,” I purred and leaned my head on Al’s shoulder. 

“That, or the idea of you two being horny-sad thinkin’ of me keeps me warm on lonely nights.”

I glared at Seth. “You aren’t helping.”

He laughed. “No, but I love the look on my bubblegum prince’s face when he’s trying to be mad at me.” He leaned in close so he was an inch from Al’s flustered face. “But really he’s dyin’ to be put right back on his back so I can really show him how much I missed him.” 

The poor man’s blush deepened, and he grumbled a little. 

I smiled and wrapped my arms around Seth’s shoulders, pulling him back so we were both staring at Al. “I think he needs us, don’t you agree? Maybe you could help me put him back in his place.”

“Oh, no, sugar, this here’s your battle. As much as I’d love to beat the brat out of him, I’m too tired to really give it my all. I’d prefer to hang back and take a more… supporting role.” He smooched the side of my neck and leaned back. 

Grinning at Al, I put my hand on his chest and started to push him back down like he was. “Well, baby? You gonna put up a fight now that you know big bad Seth’s not gonna force you to sit pretty for me?”

He shook his head and grabbed my hand to kiss it. “I’m his brat, but I’ll always behave for you, boo.”

Seth chuckled and moved to straddle Al’s thighs behind me. “Well, he knows what’s good for him, that’s for sure.” 

Alphonse began to reply. “Shut up, man- agh!” 

I yanked his hair sharply. “Maybe not. But we can correct that together some other time. Right now, I only care about enjoying the rest of my evening the way I’d dreamed of spending it, with both my boys.” 

He whimpered softly. “Yes, Boss.”

Seth was so close to me I could feel his chest pressed against my back. He rested his chin on my shoulder again. “I always love to watch you work, sugar,” he breathed flirtily against my ear. He reached around me for Alphonse’s cock, and the second he touched it Al let out a huge sigh. He pumped it up and down in his fist a few times, surely enjoying the way his pearly precum dripped over the pink tip. I lifted my hips up so Seth could help me guide it in, and sank down, more easily this time and no less pleasurable. I could feel Seth smirking against my neck as he held onto my hip with one hand and held Al’s hand with the other. 

Al was already settled back into our former rhythm with his free hand gripping the side of my thigh, head thrown back against the armrest and eyes closed in bliss, moaning with each bounce of my hips. “So glad you’re here, Seth,” he panted. “Mm! Ahh, I missed you so, fuck, so much. I really did.” 

Seth let go of Al’s hand to trail it up his stomach teasingly. “Aww, Al. Well, I had to come take care of you, didn’t I?” Al’s back arched to meet his touch. I’d do the same; we were both so starved for his affection. Seth smoothed his hand back down Alphonse’s torso, all the way to where our bodies met, and ran both hands all the way up my body to my shoulders, forcing me to lean back against his warm, broad chest. “Take care of both of you,” he purred. And without warning, he brushed his fingers over my nipples, sending electricity running through my body, especially my clit. I moaned his name loudly and threw my head back to rest on his shoulder. He continued to circle my nipples lightly, and my hips began to move faster even though my legs were starting to burn. Alphonse flexed his hands on my thighs and began babbling brokenly and bucking up into me at the increased sensation. Seth grabbed my hips to help me bounce and at the same time left a wet trail of tender kisses across the back of my neck and shoulders- not skimping on the teeth, either. 

“Fuck, please!” Alphonse cried, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. 

“What do you need, baby?” I panted. I was getting close. 

“Aah, m’gonna cum, please Boss, can I cum? Pleeease…”

I was about to reply when Seth spoke. “Not ‘til our sugar does.” And he began to rub my clit quickly with wet fingers. My back arched hard in shock and ecstasy so that I could hardly move at all, but they both helped me move on Al’s cock, moving faster, rubbing harder, pushing me through pulsing, all-consuming pleasure… until I fell from the threshold, rocking against Al’s cock frantically while he called my name, and falling against Seth’s chest once more into strong, safe arms. Al moaned sharply once more, and a warmth filled me and sent another wave through me. Once I opened my eyes again, Seth laid me down next to (on top of) Al and knelt down beside the couch, smiling down at us.

“Seth, honey... I missed you so much too. I’m so glad you could be here, tonight wouldn’t have been the same without you,” I said as I tucked Al’s head under my chin. 

“Me too, babe. Although it seemed to me y’all were gettin’ on just fine on your own…” he glanced at the strap on discarded next to the coffee table. 

Al laughed wearily. “Sure, but I ain’t this fucked out unless the both of you were involved in messin’ me up.”

“How’re you feeling, by the way? That looked like it took a lot out of you.” I said, squeezing him tight.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It was a lot, but like… so good. Y’know. I’m really good.”

“Mhm, don’t I know it.” Seth remarked. “Once sugar here works that magic, you’re a goner.” He leaned over Alphonse to kiss me, his tongue sliding over mine. 

Alphonse let out a long sigh. “Guess I’m the one who needs the bath now.” 

Seth huffed a chuckle into my mouth and broke away to look at him questioningly. 

“I was gonna run a bath for us so we could spoil each other and eat cupcakes in it.”

“Not like that last part was gonna happen,”I snickered.

“Hey!”

Seth gasped. “You tried to make cupcakes? I was wondering who got stabbed over that stovetop when I came in.”

“Boo said it wasn’t that bad!”

I giggled, knowing their bickering was loving. “If you two are done, I think we should get on with the rest of our night. All of us are hungry and probably sore, and I know I want to spend more time cuddling in our actual bed now Seth’s here.” 

Al grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked up at Seth. “I’ve been waitin’ to get my hands on you for a long time now, Brown Eyes. We gotta take advantage of a night like tonight.”

“I agree,” Seth murmured. “We’re not gonna do a thing but enjoy each other’s company.” Then he kissed him, long and deep. After they parted, he stood up, grunting. “I’m gonna go draw that bath y’all were talking about so you can rest. I’ll be back for you in a minute, so don’t go anywhere.”

“Say draw one more time,” I pleaded, smirking.

“Draw-er,” he obliged. “And don’t go teasing me about it, neither.”

“Us? Never.” Al smiled deviously. Seth stared sternly at us, then winked and turned to the bathroom. Alphonse nuzzled deeper into my arms and sighed contently. I planted a kiss into his hair and thought about how lucky I must be to have two amazing boyfriends to cherish and  surprise me everyday.

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

A/N: I loved writing this sm and I hope you enjoyed reading it! I hope to do more stuff like this, and soon. this is actually my first fanfic (first inspired by Valentine's Day with your Submissive Boyfriend audio rp by SweetKinkAudio on p*rnhub) and I'd love any criticism or advice if you're willing to give me any💖💖💖 happy valentine's day!!

taglist: @dizzy-n-busy

[danikamariewrites]

believe me when i say that your blog is AWESOME, AMAZING, im in love with your writing, i think it's the most beautiful thing in the world and i want to say thank you for sharing your talent with us. if i could marry one of your fanfics, i would do it without hesitation. 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 .now that i said my thoughts about your amazing blog, i have a request... MODERN rowaelin x reader.

🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ (fancy clothes, expensive phones, cars...) i would LOVE to see a fanfic of them in the modern world with reader🧎🏻‍♀️😫 .

no pressure, take your time, stay safe, eat healthy, sleep well, and drink water 🫂💜

Modern!Rowaelin x reader headcanon

A/n: thank you! That’s so nice of you to say and I’m so happy you like my writing (trying to make it my career if Hollywood can get its shit together lol). I love this concept, it’s amazing and I had to write it bc Aelin would thrive as modern day princess/queen.

Sending you love bestie ❤️

Warnings: none

Modern!Rowaelin would be a fucking power couple (and with you a power trio)

Let’s say for this hc that Aelin and Rowan are just a rich couple that come from old money. I’m talking old New England money but they give it a new look bc Aelin likes new stuff, Rowan is like the antique collector in the relationship

When you met they were shopping for art at the gallery you worked at

You had just graduated college a year or so ago and this was your entry level job in the art world. You were actually very familiar with the pieces the gallery sold and you have an insane memory for art history

Aelin and Rowan came in to buy a few pieces for their new apartment in the city so you showed them a few pieces since the owner was busy

The three of you hit it off and they offered to take you out to dinner once you finished with work

You met them at the five-star restaurant that was in their building and that’s when they asked you out. “We knew once we met you we had a connection. If you don’t feel the same way please feel free to reject us and we can pretend this never happened.” Aelin said

But you had felt an instant connection with them too. You felt safe and at home around them. You knew you needed to be with them

After that night you moved in with them and they talked you into quitting your job and working for their clients as an art collector

It was like a dream come true

Aelin and Rowan spoiled you with love, attention, and gifts

You weren’t always a material person, you grew up getting things you asked for that were within your family’s budget but this was a whole other level

After a year of being with them they gave you a credit card, “unlimited spending baby. Anything you want it’s your.” Rowan said kissing you on the cheek

Shopping sprees with Aelin were the best! Those were your bonding trips and when you truly got to know each other. You talked about everything while wandering the aisles of high end department stores, trying on shoes and clothes

Lingerie shopping was the most fun since you would pick out pieces that would drive him crazy (and each other)

There may have been a time or two where you both couldn’t keep your hands to yourself in the changing room

With Rowan your bonding time was going on walks or runs or him teaching you how to work out at the gym

When you were out in nature with him that’s when you saw him most relaxed (besides at home)

Your yearly summer vacation is always to Cape Cod

Both their families have beach houses there but they wanted their own in a different area, so they bought one just before they met you

The house is huge and you obviously use it more than once a year but you always had those set 2 weeks in July that you would go

No work. No distractions. Just the 3 of you, the beach, and fun times

You and Aelin of course demand the best lobster rolls which Rowan gets for you

Ice cream every night after dinner

And they buy you all the souvenirs you want

Two days before you were set to leave, you and Rowan were packing. You folded he put away (he’d never admit it but he’s awful at folding clothes but he tries)

Aelin came running into the bedroom with a shit eating grin on her face that told you two she wanted something, “Row, y/n/n.” “Yes Aelin.” You responded in unison

“I just realized we need something for the Cape house that we don’t have.” Rowan rolled his eyes, “And what would that be, Fireheart?”

“We don’t have a Jeep!” You and Rowan shared a look. “Ok A, so what do you suggest?” Aelin clapped her hands together in excitement “We’re going to get one obviously.” “Right now!?” “Yes Rowan. Come on you’re driving.”

She rushed back out of the room and you followed her as Rowan let out an exasperated sigh, tilting his head back

45 minutes later you were all sitting in the Jeep dealership

Not only did you leave with a Jeep wrangler, but she also managed to find a beautiful jet black convertible Audi

Aelin insisted you bring both to Cape Cod and of course Rowan gave in to her

[spideycatt]

Hair Day || M.M x BlackBoho!Reader

Oneshot

Synopsis:

You do Miles' hair, to say he's tenderheaded is an understatement... (can be read as 1610 or 42 Miles)

Word Count: 1.4K

Song Recs: Dangerous // Meek Mill, Trust // Brent Faiyaz, 2AM // SZA, My Boo // Usher

Warnings: Fem Reader, Reader has a potty mouth (use of the word nigga like 3 times), use of aave (mainly reader, some miles), smoking dojaaaa, shot-gunning, reader has locs, banter, suggestive jokes (Miles is a jokester y'all), reader is black (cuz some of y'all can't read), no spanish bc I'm rusty with it rn :(

I think that's it lol. lmk if I missed something!!

[not proofread]

"I was in love with you when we were younger, you were myyyy, my boo." You sang and nodded your head to the beat of "My Boo," playing off your speaker, bracelets dangling together as you got all your hair products together. Miles texted you a couple of hours ago asking if you could wash and braid his hair for him since his mom was at work. That leaves you here now, on the floor, searching for your mousse under your bathroom sink.

"You know, seeing you like this is funny.."

You jumped and hit your head on the cabinet (ouchie) as you heard your boyfriend's voice suddenly behind you. Whipping your head around to glare at the tall boy, quick to fuss at him. "Bro, who told you you could just pop up whenever you wanted without texting first?"

"Uhm, first of all, I'm not your bro," He said, pulling you off the ground. "And I did text baby, but it seems like you were away from the phone." He finishes as he tries to put a small peck to your lips, but you move your head to the side. "Damn, baby. It's like that now?"

"Nigga don't play with me. You fucking made me hit my head, so yeah, it's like that," you answer like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "How'd you even get in?" you wondered aloud, quickly getting your answer as you glanced at your now open window. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. You should start locking that."

"As if that shit would stop you."

"You got me there." He chuckled, looking at you walk to change the song on your phone. 2 AM by SZA starts playing. "Whatya looking for anyway?" your boyfriend questions you. "Mousse, you said you wanted braids, right?" You reply, looking at him over your shoulder as he nods. "Gimme a sec. I'm gonna go ask my mom if she has some," you uttered before leaving the room. Miles took a second to take in your room; it's been a while since he's been in here since you both have been busy with school and work. He missed the smell of your incense burning and the after-smell of the weed you almost always smoked before he got there. You snap him out of his trance as you walk back into the room with the mousse you'd been searching for.

"Aight lil' nigga get in the bathroom," You pat him on the shoulder. "Shirt off, too."

"Oh?" he smirked.

"Miles."

"Right."

You made quick work of setting the towel on the floor and another on the edge of the tub, having a feeling he was gonna wet everything up. "Okie-dokie on your butt." You say as you stand over him, removing your wrist jewelry and putting your locs up in a bun. He looks up at you with a weird smug look on his face. "Y'know, you standing over me like that reminds me of-"

"Don't een finish that sentence." You cut him off with a pointed look.

"Right."

"C'mon baby, lean your head back, and scoot down a lil bit. You know you tall." You guide him while turning on the faucet.

"You're really pretty.." he whispered, looking up at you getting the shampoo and conditioner. You chuckled while kicking off your long skirt to reveal shorts underneath, "Thanks, Miles."

Squirting shampoo on your hands, you lean over to massage it into Miles' scalp thoroughly, moving onto the ends once you finished soaping up his roots. You move one hand to fix your shirt, not doubting that your cleavage is all in your boyfriend's face. Not that he would complain.

It seems like you might've tugged your hand away from Miles' hair too quickly, making him hiss with a slight wince.

"Mami, at least try to be gentle." He whined loudly, bringing his hands up to latch onto your thigh.

"Boy, if you don't get ya ass off me while I'm trying to finish this! Stop being a baby, and it's not my fault you're so damn tender-headed."

"Rude..."

You rinse out his hair a little gentler this time, getting the wide tooth comb out to detangle his hair.

"Aight, just gotta detangle and condition it, and we'll be done!" You smiled and leaned down to peck his cheek. "Be good. This might hurt. If you start screaming and hollering, imma pop you."

And boy, did he get popped—a lot.

"Miles, calm down. This is the last section!" You laughed, tears coming down your face as you watched your boyfriend act like a little kid getting their hair done for the first time. He glared at you as a singular tear started to roll down his cheek. He wiped it quickly, though.

You finally finish conditioning the last section of your boyfriend's hair and start to towel dry it, kissing all over his face as an apology for 'hurting' him.

You both make quick work of drying his hair and moisturizing it, now sitting on your bed to have a quick smoke break. "You feeling better now, baby?" You ask Miles, guiding the blunt to your mouth with your beaded joint holder and inhaling, blowing the smoke in his face while he still pouted at you.

"You got some heavy ass hands."

"Keep playin', and Ima put these 'heavy ass hands' on you." You argue as you see him eyeing the blunt in your hand.

"You want some?"

"Mhm."

You smile as you take a hit and grab his jaw, pulling him into a sweet kiss and exhaling the smoke into his mouth. He smiles, sighing into the kiss. You put the blunt down on the ashtray sitting on top of your bedside table, stretching your arms as you spoke. "Aight, c'mon, big boy, I got somewhere to be later."

He eyed you as he put a pillow on the ground to sit on, obviously wanting to say something but deciding to bite his tongue. You try to move fast, sectioning his hair into four parts gently.

Dangerous by Meek Mill plays as you finish up his second to last braid, nodding your head to the song as you mumble the lyrics. "And when I'm in it, you be maxin' on a million... And when I hit it back to back, you make me still cum," you notice Miles smirking to himself in the floor-length mirror as you finish up his last braid.

"Miles. Don't even."

"I wasn't even gonna say anything!"

"I see that damn smirk. You ain't slick." You argue as you pop his shoulder lightly with the comb. "C'mon, get up. I gotta get dressed."

"Where you even going?" He questioned you, scratching his ass as he stood up and stretched.

"First of all, ew. Gross. Act like you got some damn sense while you at my house." You roll your eyes, walking to your drawer to grab your swimsuit and cover-up. "Me and my girls are going to have a drink at the beach."

"Any boys going?" He interrogated, walking over to see what you pulled out. "You not wearing that, right?"

"Uhmm, only one guy, [friend's name]'s boyfriend. And yes, I'm wearing this. I'm not finna argue with you about it either."

He pouted. "But-"

"But nothing, Miles, it's a beach. I'm gonna wear a bathing suit." you cut him off, walking over to him as you take your top off. "I know how to take care of myself. Now go somewhere, boy."

It was clear he wanted to argue about it more but decided against it. "Alright.. take some good pics for me, ok, ma? I'mma head out. Text me when you get back home. Love ya." He said, placing a loving kiss on your lips before stepping out your window. "And lock the window before you leave!"

"I will. Bye, baby." You shook your head, shutting the window and locking it after watching Miles step off your fire escape onto the pavement below, walking away as he turned around and blew you a kiss. Of course, you blew a kiss back.

And damn, did your back and arms hurt after all that.

And the kid didn't even say thank you.

[wooahaes]

i want to be with you more (like the sun sets and rises again)

pairing: non-idol!jihoon [trsr] x fem!reader

genre: fluff!

word count: 0.6k~

warnings: food mention, one suggestive reference, mentions of a migraine + taking medicine for it. abrupt ending, probably, bc writer doesn’t know what she wants.

daisy’s notes: i forgot i wanted to go see a movie like. weeks ago. movie theater popcorn i miss u...

Jihoon could hear you sneezing the moment he came into your apartment. Honestly, even though he already had plans to spend your birthday with you, knowing that you were sick only made him want to stay there more.

The plan had been that the two of you were going to catch a movie together that you’d been wanting to see for a while. You’d sneak candy in through your purse, he’d pay for the popcorn because he’s a gentleman who won’t let the birthday girl (who’s, y’know, smuggling candy in) spend extra money for their date, and he’d maybe try to steal a few (or more than a few) kisses from you throughout the movie. Except you woke up this morning with a migraine and your allergies kicking your ass, so the two of you ended up missing the showtimes so that you could rest up. He’d listened to you make a couple phone calls throughout the day to family, and decided maybe he’d just surprise you himself.

So when you decided you’d take a nap while you waited for medicine to kick in (in hopes that it’d help get rid of the migraine once and for all), he ran to the store. He found microwave popcorn (your preferred brand, because it was deliciously buttery), a couple of drinks for the two of you to share, and whatever boxes of candy that he knew both of you loved... but mainly the ones you preferred, because it was still your day.

With his return to your apartment to find you still resting, he knew what his second move would need to be. He’d leave the popcorn until he knew that you were feeling better, but in the event that you were, everything needed to be cozier. So he texted Hyunsuk to ask if a blanket fort would be feasible (who immediately complained about how he texted him before anyone else... before giving out the information he wanted), and got to work.

“Babe?”

He perked up when he heard your voice, sitting up from his spot on the floor where he was spreading out another blanket (thank you for your love of blankets, by the way--it truly helped Jihoon make everything a thousand times cozier) to see you standing nearby.

“What are you doing?”

He ignored your question in favor of checking on you first. “Do you feel better?” He stood up, hands reaching for your own. “Does your head still hurt?”

“No, but...” I asked you a question, he knew you were going to say.

“Since we couldn’t go out,” he took a tiny step back, pulling you with him. “I made things look nice. I know it isn’t the same because we can’t see the movie you wanted, but... I have a few accounts--” Not all owned by him, since Hyunsuk was the one with the Disney+ account so he could watch marvel movies. “--And I thought we could have our own movie date here...” He paused, squeezing your hands a little. “Happy birthday?”

You felt sheepish, heat rushing to your face at how casual he was about all of it. As if throwing things together because your girlfriend had a migraine was the completely normal course of actions. “What if my head still hurt?”

“I’d take it down and we could do it later,” he shrugged. “Its your birthday. Even though we missed the movie, we can still have fun here.” While still holding your hands, he gently pulled you down onto the floor with him as he knelt down. “In more ways than one...”

You let go of his hand in favor of gently smacking his arm. “You dork,” you said. “Maybe later.”

He laughed, leaning in to give you a quick peck. “You wait here,” he said as he hopped back up, before pushing the bag of candy toward you. “I’ll go make our popcorn.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao​

[unholyverse]

travis is doing what now???

congrats. or not. you made it to part 2 of my explanation/summary of that. you can find part 1 here.

cw: some (not too graphic but still present) smut written by a guy who is friends with the people in this fic + discussion of religion in a very general metaphor way

this is the part i'm warning you about the smut and general nightmare feeling: chapter 4: brainwashed

in his author's note, travis wishes readers happy pride (if this is pride, i feel wrath) and starts questioning whether he should be continuing the fic (should've questioned that a long time ago) and then admitting he wrote 30 FUCKING PAGES for this chapter.

this chapter takes place over the course of a week, starting with awsten and geoff on a date where they start getting to know each other. geoff starts saying how he's working on a project in this place where he's interviewing people about their relationship to the in universe equivalent to christianity or some abrahamic religion if you add the pokémon knockoffs to them. so they get into a conversation about theology that was like reading the glup shitto post but religious bc seriously i don't know or care about these stupid fantasy names.

so then after all this they go to geoff's apartment to have fade to black sex that's only implied in the second day section.

unfortunately some of the smut is not fade to black from this point forward.

awstens horny wants more dick and geoff's just trying to get breakfast for them which prompts this scene.

is this a good time to remind you that travis is writing this about the friends he has in real life. he knows these people. personally.

thank you travis for restoring my faith in my smut writing abilities 🙏 because now i know at least i'm not writing scenes like these about my irls.

ok back to the fic they have SHOWER SEX after that and we also have to read that for some reason.

so after that they watch some old show together and awsten asks if geoff has any pets and this is the part where i find out there’s normal animals and pokémon ripoffs in this universe which is weird.

geoff summons a recreation of his dog for a bit (that’s a thing i forgot to mention that mostly bc i do not care) and the day ends with him musing on that saying he misses his dog.

the third day section is a literal paragraph about them having fade to black sex. that’s it for that.

the fourth day section finds awsten going home for an hour to pick up new clothes to stay at geoff’s more and after that him and geoff go on a date outside.

it’s this point when geoff asks awsten if he can interview him for his project about people’s relationships with religion. awsten says yes, but pretty reluctantly.

so they get on with the interview which gradually gets awsten more uncomfortable with the personal questions.

this entire part is travis’ heavy handed way of approaching religious themes that are supposed to be in the album and my god does the allegory feel as heavy handed as the sparse religious references in intellectual property. considering this is a universe where travis tends to ignore things he’s not comfortable with writing for whatever reason (cough cough otto), i think considering this is a universe where all his friends are gay and yknow. the general relationship between gay people and religious can be pretty complex it just makes me wonder the implications of leaving that out too. if the topic got too real.

anyways.

awsten cuts off the interview and geoff starts opening up about his life which just means travis airs out the shit geoff has been going through for the past couple years minus the polycule.

is this a good time to note that geoff’s dog irl is named eevee (renamed here for obvious reasons) and said dog is still actually with his ex and kid. travis why are you airing this out and at what point in writing this chapter did it dawn upon you that this was a bad idea.

this section just ends in awsten wondering what else he doesn’t know about and then they make out.

the fifth day section starts with geoff trying to cook them food after the umpteenth time of them fucking. geoff makes a light joke that his cooking is only world famous to his daughter which makes the lines after that 10x worse

everything about this is actually terrible. the fact that geoff was trying to cook naked. “giving Geoff’s penis a light tap”. MANHOOD????

so anyways they cook a grilled cheese together and they talk and geoff ends up dropping that he’s seeing a pokemon knockoff tournament with a guy named pulo, another travis oc. geoff says they’re not exclusive or anything but awsten still feels like shit bc he probably thought him and geoff were at least. ouch.

the sixth day section is awsten musing about the new geoff revelations but then ending up having fade to black sex with him anyways.

the final section (of this chapter but. god that was long) is awsten finally leaving geoff’s apartment after a week there. meaning they make out for a long time at the door before awsten has to leave.

i can’t believe someone who knows both of them wrote this entire thing about them and posted it online. it genuinely baffles me how travis didn’t cancel writing the fic here before he could post it. but if you know what happened before next chapter posted, you’d know why he went on with this.

so travis lives in austin, texas (it’s the only way he can say he’s in awsten and it’s true). and so for the austin show, him, jawn, and zakk all got onstage for war crimes wearing something awsten had and travis was reveling this especially towards the end when he was hugging awsten and taking his damn time presumably whiffing him as much as he could under his mask.

and then this happens.

travis just gets to shake awstens ass in front of this audience twice 😭😭😭 might i remind you this is a show that rivers cuomo attended without anyone knowing until the day after.

so yeah that happens and then travis gets brought up again for awsten to hold him like a doll while he plays cherry red for travis to horribly sing.

so after this, i was like travis is either going to go home and jack off to this or he’s going to write the next fic chapter and i was definitely right about one of those things but still probably right about the other.

so now we’re here to the most recent part of this which is chapter 5: 2 best friends.

awstens all bummed about geoff hanging out with pulo so he goes out with travis and jawn to take his mind off things. the entire chapter is essentially travis being a very ooc party boy drunk (bc i think travis realizes how lame and nerdy his actual personality is) while him, awsten, and jawn all hang out and do dumb shit.

ok with that out of the way lemme just say it does not feel like i’m reading three different characters it just feels like i’m reading travis, travis, and drunk travis.

so anyways they all do shit but it doesn’t keep awsten from thinking about geoff in the end.

oh but that’s not everything nope not at all bc the ending is awsten and jawn. HOOKING UP.

oh my god. considering how awsten has slept with most of the male population in this fic except travis, i feel like travis writing this is just fueling some cuck fetish of his bc WHAT THE HELL IS ANY OF THIS SERIOUSLY.

anyways that’s all i have :) this fandom and the people involved with parx are actually insane on so many different levels i didn’t know were possible. i just want to interrogate travis for everything about this fic (with a knife in my hand)

[jeffbytes]

elaborating a bit more on Nick's importance to me, something i've only really recently felt more inclined to look back on and resurface in my mind given the..... nature... of this story 🥲 going back through my old facebook to find the images has definitely tightened my chest a lot as i'm writing this, but i think it's as good a time as any to share now i've done so.

trigger warning for domestic violence / physical assault. contains content made pre transition, identities and characters i no longer use, please respect this and do not use them

observing the bittersweet horrors below the cut

the movie released in 2016. i was 19 / 20 yrs old at the time. i was still a furry, identifying with the label, with a "fursona" all that jazz (i still have animal sonas and interest in costuming as my sonas now, i just dont identify as a furry or interact with the community / go to the meet ups anymore). most importantly i was in a co habiting relationship with my then boyfriend, who we will refer to as L (bc he certainly didnt act like a W lol....)

we've got the trigger warning out of the way so i'll be frank - L was my abuser. i was a domestic violence victim to this man. he was unpredictable, attacked me in my own home several times a week, over mundane things like a chore needing doing or not smoking inside or needing to wake him up at 4pm. it's stuff that still haunts me to this very day (high intensity therapy finally happening, end of this year) that i wont elaborate much more on but it was BAD, ok. really really bad, shit you only see happening in movies. i was nearly DEAD, on the last occassion. i lived that horror for over a year whilst we lived together, and the knock on effect its had... i have not been able to work since, i lost my job due to needing to be sent to hospital on my shift a couple days after and fired for my "inconsistent appearence" at work. i lost everything to this man. i've only just started coming out of my shell in terms of holding a relationship in the last 2 years, largely in part given to the bravery that self shipping has brought me.

so here we mention Zootopia. Zootropolis over here w/e it's not important - Zootopia released in the same year 2016, after much hype from myself it was one of few things keeping me going at the time the awaited release of this movie, and i fell hard for Nick. how much i related to his character (even more so in recent times) how tender he seemed underneath everything and his turn around, everything about this character comforted me.

and i started to selfship with him! i didnt know what selfshipping was at the time, it was just me drawing my at the time fursona with him romantically and had no idea the SS community existed until just a few years ago. i never really felt the need to ship with characters when i was in IRL relationships before - and the fact i started drawing myself with Nick was an eye opener for me that something wasn't right for me. that i was deep down seeking refuge in a fictional relationship bc i was starting to break down and come to terms with the fact my IRL relationship was not only unhealthy, but dangerous.

it was the comfort of shipping with Nick and that realisation it gave me that gave me the wake up call i needed. one morning L was on another of his hands on tyrades, and scared our poor elderly cat, seeing my baby scared and knowing i'd been putting my heart into new outlets, i ejected him from the property that day. sure, L was able to manipulate his way back into my life for another couple months later that year that ended the exact same way (for good this time, good riddance) but in that moment i knew i wanted better than what i had when i found that in Nick at the time.

while my self ship with him has been quite on and off since then, i'll never forget the part he played in essentially saving my life. aforementioned, L nearly KILLED ME one time, right towards the end of that second appearence i mentioned before. i'll spare the specifics, i'm lucky to be alive.

i don't know where i would be without that wake up call. Nick and my sweet elderly cat Clawey rest in peace, they both saved my life in 2016 and i'm forever grateful for that ;___;

[specklesofdust]

6-22-2023

on 6/17/23, I ran into Reggie at Cobra and completely ignored him like the demon of despair that he is and he then proceeded to get his friend to try and follow me outside of the bar and i was able to bypass his spy and get away from them to another bar across the street before they could see me and then my roomie ashley texted me at like 4:23am that morning stating that Reggie showed up at our door pounding on it psychotic and drunk demanding to see me and when she told him i wasn’t there he started yelling fuck you bitches i do whatever i want! and he walked across the street continuing to scream.... i have blocked him on everything except email and gave him a verbal warning that if he were to ever be anywhere near my place of residence again that i was going to call the cops so i really fucking hope that never happens again. I feel terrible that he scared ashley like that and i know she is now more than ready to have me move out which i am totally cool with bc i am fucking tired of paying now $1125 a month to live in a house that smells like cat shit all the time... i love her and appreciate her hospitality but naw i am over that cost of living for that kind of climate. I had a long talk with Gator after all of that happened and after his psycho ex gf called me and told me he had just been hanging out with her for the last several days that i called him with him not answering and she relayed that he has been lying to her and she saw my number on his phone when he was asleep and decided to call me and see who i was and had tons and tons of very personal questions about me and gators relationship. once he called me back finally he and i met in person and i told him what she had said and he called me out for hanging out with reggie and him at the same time and told me that he could smell reggie on me and he still let me into his house because he loves me and is tired of me giving my time to reggie who doesn’t give a fuck about me obviously and that i deserve more than what i have been experiencing and he came forward about his ex lauren and him hanging out recently and we both agreed that we would see each other exclusively and plan on moving in together now and potentially starting a family. he gave me the keys to his place and said i can stay there since it is a safer place for me right now since reggie doesn’t know where that is but then again jen knows where gator lives from a couple of months ago when she and i were still friends and she came over to hang with us one day. I have never been so close to hating another human being as i do with jen and reggie right now but i am  going to have to not let these reactive rages ruin my optimism... they are both evil and always will be evil and will never change and i need to just accept the fact that misery loves company and shun them from any synapse that i have. it will take time but it has already nearly been a week since that bullshit happened and i am doing markedly better already. i just don’t know if living in this city any more will be beneficial to my betterment tbh...

I felt a lot of comfort about the new plan with gator for the last couple of days when he was in town but then he left on tour for PCB this afternoon and will be gone for like 4 days and then he gets back into town for like 1 night and then he will leave again on another tour for another week after that... idk what to do man... the promises he makes and the way he tells me he loves me and supports me and wants to be with me and me only are very beautiful but when he promises me he won’t leave me, he is then literally gone for days and weeks at a time? ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh what am i doing with my life?|!

my supervisors just gave me another written warning about my attendance and i literally cannot be late or call out at all anymore or else i am fired... i am tired of working here on night shifts and i really just want to get another job where i can work in the daytime and have better pay and better support but why would i get another job in this forsaken city of sadness again when i could be looking for other options elsewhere? 

Idk what to do man...i guess i am just going to keep working here until i can formulate a better plan and i will see what happens with gator within this next month. i feel a lot of great things with him and i really love how much he loves me and how kind and forgiving and unconditionally supportive he has been with me even when i have been an evident slut in front of his face, but he has also been exposed with his sketchy ways and is a fucking touring musician who is in town maybe like 38%-72% of the time max and i will require way more presence from a partner in the future forreal, especially if we actually do get serious about starting a family because i will be damned if i am pregnant and alone in a city that i have grown to despise.. the shit isn’t very assuring right now in my soul...

i am going to auburn this weekend for tess and joshes engagement party and this will be the first time i have been back to my hometown in over a year i think. I am praying that i gain some clarity while i am there regarding what i should do with my life and it will at least be nice to get the FUCK out of Nashville even if just for a couple of days. 

I feel so alone right now. i don’t feel like i have any real friends here any more and the ones i thought i did have have either become evil entities, snobs, gnarly alcoholics, or fare weather fiends. 

i need to pray and meditate and sleep and exercise and drink water and remember who the fuck i am who i want to be and how i can become that to the best and fullest of my ability. I am tired of being thrown in the crossfire and change needs to happen sooner than later 

[cheolbooluvr]

tomorrow tonight

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pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: angst, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining 

word count: 20.8k (ha ha buckle in) 

warnings: divorce, implied sexual activities (but no smut), profanity

a/n: it’s here!! first, i want to say thank you all for your interest in this fic; it was truly unexpected, but your support motivated me to finish this after months of sitting on it with no clue as to which direction i wanted this to go.  this started roughly three months ago when i started watching thirty nine (which i finished last night btw; go watch it if you’re into sad stuff), and also listening to loote’s song of the same name! smth abt tomorrow tonight + thirty nine angst made me want to write this sadness so...yeah. i truly did not anticipate this being my longest fic to date at 20k words, but here she is :’) thank you to @gyukult and @twogyuu for beta reading this bc i was too tired to re-read it myself LOL @_@ i hope you all enjoy it, and as always, please be sure to leave your feedback via reblogs/replies/asks!! <3 enjoy !!

tag list:  @itaewonsquad97 @yeosangsbiceps @haoraecane @dontflailmenow @flwrsol @blackswann-53098 @yjhdaily @kpopjackie @letskookandbaek @lovelywoo @chanreads @xmessaroundx @romromthedeer @soobin-chois @qy61 @chwebychew @ahgastayzen (if i missed you, i am SO sorry T-T)

my masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

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“Hey, jackass. You’re gonna catch a cold.”

Your voice filled the empty night air, crude words accompanied by the chilling winter wind. He was facing away from you, his back hunched over as he sat on the carousel in the children’s park outside your apartment. Even under the poorly-lit street lamps, you recognized the back of his head: the way his hair—cut close to his nape—faded into his skin, and how his white, cotton button-down shirt hugged his wide back as he rested his elbows on his knees. He was rubbing his palms together, his breath visible in the night as he tried to warm himself.

Dipshit, you thought to yourself. It was below freezing and he was out here without a jacket. 

He turned around to greet you with a smile, though it wasn’t the same cocky grin he usually gave you when you called him unpleasant names. This one was different. It was… sad. Given the way his hair was tousled, you could guess he had probably gone drinking with his coworkers before he came to see you.

“What’s up?” you asked, dropping the black plastic bag in his lap as you sat down next to him. 

“How was work?” he replied, answering your question with a question, something he knew you hated but still did anyway. 

“Fine. Same ol’, same ol’, ya know?” You stuck your hand in the bag and pulled out a cold beer; you had stopped at the convenience store just a couple minutes away and grabbed some drinks and snacks, figuring Seungcheol probably wouldn’t mind considering how much the man usually drank. Besides, you had been spending long days at the office this past week finishing a project for a VIP which didn’t give you much time or energy to cook at home, so this was your next best option. Looping your finger through the pull tab, the can opened with a satisfying hiss. Seungcheol followed suit with his can of beer, raising it to tap against yours before the two of you took huge gulps, each finishing with a loud, content sigh. 

“Oh?” Seungcheol moved his face to inspect the can closer. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

He chuckled when he saw the incredulous look on your face, the way your eyebrows seemed to go in different directions with your mouth slightly agape at such a dumb question. 

“You act like we haven’t been friends for a long time, stupid.” Of course you knew his favorite beer, but that begged the question: did he know yours? 

“Best friends,” he corrected you, which warranted a loud smack on his arm. He winced, and despite being a big boy with big, beefy arms, the impact you made caused his arm to sting. This time, it was your turn to laugh at the man rubbing the spot where you had hit him. 

Reaching your hand into the bag again, you pulled out a triangle kimchi tuna kimbap. Seungcheol snorted. No matter how much time passed, you were just too predictable. He grabbed the kimbap from you, tugging on the tab and expertly freeing the plastic from around the seaweed. He handed it back to you, your dumbfounded face causing him to snicker even more.

“You’re like a fucking magician,” you muttered. Even your reaction to him unraveling the snack for you never changed, reminiscent of the very first time you two met. 

He had found you sitting outside a convenience store in elementary school, eyes puffy from crying about who knows what, a discombobulated mess of rice and seaweed on the table in front of you. Seungcheol, even as a young child, was always considerate, so he had gone inside, bought another kimbap, and brought it out to you. You weren’t sure who this strange boy was, but the thought of trying to open another kimbap frustrated you to the point of tears—again. 

In a panic, he swiped it from you, urging you to quiet down so passersby would stop staring. The crinkling of the plastic was enough to spur your curiosity as you watched him move swiftly, pulling it apart with ease. 

“Here,” he had said, his voice octaves higher than it was now. He had watched you fondly as you devoured the snack, your cheeks full and a smile gracing your lips. 

Not a lot had changed since then, especially that warm smile of yours that brought him comfort after a long day. He chuckled as you shoved the rice into your mouth, the seaweed producing a gratifying crunch as you bit down. 

“You don’t change, do you?”

“What? I’m starving,” you said. 

“They don’t feed you at work?”

You shook your head. “Honestly, when I’m in the zone, I forget that I’m hungry until I leave.”

“You need to take care of yourself,” he nagged. 

“I do. I just sometimes forget to eat. It’s no big deal.”

Cheol took another swig of his beer, the cold liquid contrasting the burn of the alcohol as it went down his throat. “It’s no big deal until you get sick.”

“Okay, Dad,” you sneered. “Geez. I’m eating now, so it’s fine.”

Seungcheol gave you the look, and you groaned. When his eyebrows furrowed the way that they did, you knew he was going to lecture you. Part of you appreciated how much he cared about you, but sometimes it was too much. You had moved to the city to get away from your own nagging mother only to be accompanied by another nagging parent. “Don’t tell me you’ve been eating like this?” He took your silence as an answer and continued, “You need to eat real food.”

“Well, I don’t think this is imaginary,” you quipped. 

“I don’t need your sarcasm. I’m serious.”

“Cheol, I’m fine. Really.” Your limbs started to shake the longer the two of you sat outside. “Wanna come up for tea? Where it’s warm?”

“No, I probably shouldn’t,” he said, a sigh escaping his lips. “The wife is waiting for me at home.”

You cowered at the word. Even though he had been married for almost two years, it still sounded strange and unfamiliar coming from his mouth. 

 “I’ll call you, yeah?” He let out an aching groan as he stood up, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. 

You nodded, but it wasn’t like he saw you, his eyes already fixed on his BMW. You watched as he left you on the playground alone, his body disappearing as he entered his car and drove off. This wasn’t an unfamiliar sight for you: Seungcheol’s back as he walked away. In fact, it was a sight that you knew well.

All too well.

———

“You’re stupid, you know that?” Dahyun’s words were piercing, but it wasn’t the first time you’d heard that come from her sharp tongue. As a matter of fact, it was almost a daily occurrence, some variation of being “stupid,” “clueless,” “naive,” or whatever word she could find in her vocabulary brought up whenever you mentioned Seungcheol. 

You stared ahead, your eyes preoccupied on the golden glow the light cast upon the bottles in front of you as the two of you sat at the bar on a Friday night. Dahyun’s glare could burn holes through your skull, but you paid her no attention, instead choosing to lift the glass of whiskey on the rocks to your lips. The smokey aroma hit your nose first as you braced for the impact of the harsh liquor on your tongue.

The first time you’d had it was in university—Seungcheol had somehow convinced you to come to his business club’s social mixer at the local bar everyone frequented. Even back then he had a wide frame that filled out his university jacket nicely, your school’s name embroidered across the back. He had excitedly introduced you to his club members and asked if you wanted anything to drink. Considering you’d had a midterm the following morning, you told him, “Just a coke,” but he had insisted you make it a jack and coke instead. 

“You like that?” he had asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s not bad. What are you drinking?”

“Just a whiskey. Neat.” Seungcheol had always been a goofy kid growing up, but when you two got to university, he had somehow grown into this handsome, charming man who you barely recognized. Nonetheless, he was still your best friend, and you were grateful he thought the same of you. Even then in the bar, you couldn’t miss the way some of his fellow club members ogled at him, but his attention was on you. “Want some?”

A sense of pride washed over you as you took his drink from his hands and drank from the same cup his lips touched, relishing in the jealousy of the other girls who wished they could be you. 

The moment the liquid entered your mouth, you nearly spit it back out into his cup. 

You hated whiskey. 

Yet, you continued to drink it on certain nights because you wondered if that’s what his lips tasted like. If this was the closest you could get to him, then so be it.

“God, can’t you drink something besides whiskey? Or at least add some coke like a normal person.” The tone in her voice made it clear that she was fed up with your actions once again. Yet, despite her constant pestering, you were her best friend after all, and her concern came from a place of love. It saddened her to watch you make one mistake after the other, but what if you didn’t want her best intentions? “It’s disgusting. I don’t know how you drink that.”

“Worry about finishing your cocktail before you nag me about my drink,” you replied, taking another sip of the forsaken liquid. 

“What’s up with her?” Another voice brought you out of your slight daze, your eyes moving to the bartender. 

“She’s caught up on him,” Dahyun spoke for you, leaning back in the stool and pretending to examine her martini. She set the glass down and fiddled with the olive in the cup, her attention turning to the man in front of you both. 

The bartender was wiping down a glass when he let out a quiet chuckle. “The childhood friend, right?”

“Vernon, please. I don’t need you involved in this, too.” Vernon was a college friend of yours and also the head bartender of this pub that you and Dahyun frequented. The latter swung her legs around on the stool to reposition herself to face Vernon, placing her head in her hands as she looked at him. 

“She’s hopeless. Help me out, Vern,” she begged, batting her eyelashes at him. 

Vernon blushed, his eyes skirting to the glass he had been wiping for the last five minutes. Dahyun made him shy, and you all knew that, but she didn’t care. He let out a huff of air through his nose, the corner of his lips turning up into a small smirk. “Look, I don’t want to get involved—”

“Then don’t,” you interrupted. You took another sip of the whiskey before swirling the golden drink around in the cup and observing the way it moved with elegance around the big block of ice. 

“But,” he continued, “I do think you’re an addict.”

You looked up at him, puzzled by his choice of words. “A what?”

“You’re addicted to him.” It was irking how nonchalant he was as he set down the glass. He propped himself against the counter, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up just below his elbows, exposing his forearms. 

“What the fuck?”

“He’s right,” Dahyun chimed in. You could see the lightbulb turn on in her head, and you were not ready for where she was going to take this. “He’s a drug you can’t quit.”

“He’s not a drug,” you argued. “He’s a human.”

“Ever heard of a metaphor?” she quipped back. 

Ugh. 

She took another sip of her drink before continuing, “Besides, he’s married.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” You rolled your eyes.

“But you’re still caught up on him.”

The blood within your veins began to boil. “I’m not ‘caught up’ on him,” you disputed, throwing your fingers up to make air quotes. “He’s my best friend.”

“No, I’m your best friend. You’re in love with him.”

“I can have more than one best friend,” you argued back. 

“Yeah, sure. But he’s not your best friend if you’re in love with him.”

“Why can’t it be both—” you caught yourself. Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  

A shit-eating grin formed on Dahyun’s lips. 

Check fucking mate. 

“Look,” you began. Whatever came out of your mouth next, you knew neither Dahyun nor Vernon would believe you, but you’d give it a try anyway. “My friendship with him is more important than whatever feelings I have for him.”

“You’re telling me you’d rather suffer for the rest of your life if that means you don’t lose him?” Dahyun probed with a raised eyebrow. 

 “I’m not suffering.” Now, Dahyun knew you were lying by the way you refused to look into her eyes, your fingers fidgeting with your glass. 

“You’re pathetic.” 

You were used to the insults Dahyun threw your way, but this time, she meant what she said, and it pierced your heart knowing that this was what she thought of you. She chugged the remainder of her drink and slid the empty glass across the bar. “I’m going to go dance. Thanks for the drink, Vern.”

He nodded at her, watching her slink away to where the crowd of people were.

“Ouch.” You had completely forgotten about Vernon’s existence, typical of a guy like him who seldom had much to say. Even he knew that Dahyun’s words weren’t meant to be taken lightly, and he had to agree with her. 

Even you agreed with her. You were pathetic—waiting around for someone who would never be yours, watching him love someone else, someone who wasn’t you, and despite all this, you continued to stick around like a lovesick fool. 

So, yeah. 

The word weighed heavy in your chest as you tapped the counter signaling to Vernon that you wanted another drink. He handed you another whiskey, the strong smell hitting your nose before you could even bring it to your lips. Instead of curiosity, a wave of nausea came over you instead. 

Suddenly, whiskey didn’t seem so intriguing anymore. 

———

It happened while you were trying to forget him. 

They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. So, that’s what you did. And that’s how you found yourself under a stranger that night, someone who had offered to buy you a different drink when he saw that yours had gone untouched for a while. 

Instead, he bought you a cosmopolitan, citing you might enjoy it more. And maybe it was a little presumptuous of him to assume such a thing, but you had to admit that it was certainly better than what you had been drinking all these years. It also made you feel giddier and more confident when the whiskey only made you feel sad, and maybe that was why you agreed to go home with him. 

It felt good though, his skin against yours, just the two of you in the darkness of his bachelor pad. The way he moved was gentle and careful, as if somehow he knew you were in a fragile state of mind. He moved his hands to your waist, lifting your shirt so gingerly as he slotted his legs between yours, pushing them apart to make room for himself on the bed. 

Your breathing grew heavy, and you closed your eyes. Suddenly, you were met with a familiar face: his frosty skin that contrasted his jet black hair, his long eyelashes that fluttered every time he blinked, those plump, whiskey lips that you so badly wanted to kiss—

“Seungcheol,” you gasped. The weight on your body was now gone and you opened your eyes.

Fuck. The man above you sure as hell wasn’t Seungcheol and he looked just as confused as you, if not more. 

You hated to admit it, but Dahyun and Vernon were right: you were addicted. 

“Shit. I am so sorry,” you blurted out. 

“Look, I don’t know who this Sungchil—”

“Seungcheol,” you corrected.

“Sure, whatever,” he replied, waving you off. “I don’t know who he is, but let me be the one to show you a good time.” Without missing another beat, he planted his lips against your neck, but the mood was ruined and you couldn’t go a single second without thinking about your best friend. You had a problem and maybe this was the wake-up call you needed. 

“Sorry, I don’t think I can do this.” You sat up and grabbed your things, fumbling in the darkness to hastily put your shoes on and get the fuck out of there. 

The night was cold—freezing even—the brisk air nipping at your cheeks as you waited for a taxi to come. A lot had happened that night, and as you stood there, legs shaking, you made a decision.

You would quit Seungcheol. 

For good.

———

Once upon a time, you and Seungcheol were terrible students: you would ditch class to go get rice cakes and sausage from the street vendor right outside the school, and when the bell rang, while most of your peers were rushing to get to cram school, the two of you would go to a nearby diner and dick around until the sun set. 

Yet, despite your poor habits, you still ended up in the top ten students of your class and Seungcheol, well, let’s just say he was lucky to have such a smart friend like you. Though, none of that mattered in the end as you landed your dream job doing branding design and marketing at a renowned company, and he was the department manager for a food supply conglomerate. One look at you two, and everyone would think you had everything you could ever want. And while that was mostly true, there was one thing you wanted but could never have.

Your best friend.

You were busy typing out an email to a client, your finger aggressively clacking against the plastic keys. If someone heard you, they might think you were chewing someone out, but you were just a loud typer was all. Everyone had already left the office, and you were the last one there, the lights turning off slowly one-by-one. That was your sign to leave. As you were packing up, your phone vibrated on your desk.

1 new message from Cheollie.

2 new messages from Cheollie.

Your eyes glazed over the notification. 

You desperately wanted to open the message, a selfish part of you hoping that maybe he would have some epiphany that you were the love of his life and that he’s so sorry it took him this long to realize. 

No. He wouldn’t do that. He was married. He was happy. He was happy and married. You would never be the reason for his happiness.

But… what if…? Your face was illuminated by the blue light of your phone, your eyes squinting at the sudden brightness as the lights around you shut off for good. When you opened his message, your shoulders dropped. 

Look at this guy LOL

[1 attachment] 

You opened the message to find a photo of some guy wearing denim shorts, crocs, and a cowboy hat.

Dear god. Is this what the world has come to? You let out a chuckle, your head betraying your heart as you went to type a response.

You stopped yourself. 

No. You shouldn’t. Replying to him would only open the door for conversation, which was the last thing you needed right now. 

The road to healing was a long one, but you could do it if you put your mind to it. Or, at least that’s what you told yourself every morning. In the beginning, it was difficult not to respond to Seungcheol’s messages almost immediately or send him pictures of what you were eating for lunch and dinner. But as the days went on, it became a little bit easier, the temptation fizzling out as you responded to him late or left him on read. 

At first, Seungcheol just assumed that it was because you were busy with work, but when he saw that the little ‘1’ by his message was gone and he still hadn’t received a response, that’s when he began to worry. 

To say you were surprised to see him standing awkwardly outside your apartment with a plastic bag would be an understatement. And also completely unhelpful if you were going to quit him for good like you had claimed. 

Yet, here he was, loitering in the cold, though this time, he was wearing his favorite maroon, Moncler puffer jacket. He was kicking the ground like a little child playing with the rocks around him until he saw your shadow. Your heart dropped when he looked up at you, his face beaming under the shitty light of your building. 

“Hi,” he greeted you quietly.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Geez, not even a ‘hi’ back?” he joked. 

To be fair, you were still processing his sudden appearance in front of your house. Usually, he’d shoot you a text or a quick phone call to let you know he was coming. But tonight, he was here, completely unannounced because a part of him wondered if you’d ignore him if he tried to reach out, and he was too scared to find out.

So, here he was.

“Hi, Seungcheol,” you caved, the tone of your voice sounding more like an exasperated mother than someone excited to see their best friend. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought dalkgalbi and beer,” he replied, lifting the bag. You recognized the black chicken on the logo—your favorite restaurant. You’d be crazy to say no, so you just nodded your head towards the entrance as the two of you entered the building. Pressing the elevator button, you stood in silence as you ascended the eight stories it took to get to your apartment. 

The path to your unit was second nature to Seungcheol—he had spent many of his days at your place even before he had gotten married. He even knew your passcode to get in, expertly entering the numbers as if he was the one who lived there and not you. 

Quitting him would be a lot harder than you thought. 

You sat on your couch, unpacking the bag while he moved effortlessly in your kitchen, from grabbing plates and utensils to filling up the water pitcher like it was second nature. You had lived in this apartment since college, and Seungcheol spent most, if not all, of his days there with you like it was his own home. You even had a spare blanket and pillow for him and, not to mention, the spare toothbrush you kept for him in the cup on your bathroom sink. Once upon a time, he had a pair of slippers there, too, and your mom would often mistake them for your boyfriend’s. 

“They’re not my boyfriend’s,” you’d painstakingly correct her, though you had wished they were. 

 If Dahyun had been longing for her best friend who was married, you would have called her pathetic, too. The more you thought back to that night at the bar and that stranger’s home, the throbbing in your head grew worse. 

“What happened here?” he asked, setting everything down on the table in front of you. Your apartment was in complete disarray, random pieces of paper scattered here and there, about three loads of laundry were piled on your couch. For the past few weeks, you had been so busy at work that you rarely had energy to clean or put clothes away, so in the mornings, you’d pick the least wrinkled articles and throw those on for the day, swearing you’d put everything away when you came home that night. But you never did. 

“Work’s kept me busy,” you stated, opening the containers of spicy stir-fried chicken covered in mounds of mozzarella cheese. The spice was the first to hit your nose, and you embraced its warmth briefly before digging in with your chopsticks. Seungcheol watched you fondly, a never-ending string of cheese stretching from the container to your mouth.

“Here,” he motioned, handing you a sizable portion wrapped in lettuce. You didn’t grab the wrap from him, instead just opening your mouth and biting a huge chunk off. The spice of the sauce was cleanly contrasted by the lettuce and the pickled radish that he had put inside for you. Continuing to munch on the dinner, you opened the can of beer and poured it into the glasses Seungcheol had gotten earlier. 

“Thanks,” you said as you chewed, huffing from the heat and spice of the meat. 

Seungcheol quirked his eyebrow at you, slightly aghast at the sight of your stuffed cheeks. “Finish eating before you speak,” he scolded, using a napkin to wipe the sauce from the corner of your mouth. It was the little things like this that always made your heart flutter, but when he was always nagging you, a part of you wondered if maybe Seungcheol saw you more as a little sister instead of as a woman. 

“You never answered my question,” you prodded, your eyes zeroing in on the shiny metal on his finger. He froze, pulling his hand away from you. 

“What, I can’t visit my friend?”

“You can, but you usually call.”

Honestly, Seungcheol didn’t have a good enough excuse other than, “I forgot.”

Deciding not to interrogate him any further, you accepted his response and moved on. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, of course. Anything for you.” And there it was again. Those killer words and actions that sliced and punctured your heart, slowly wearing it away until there was nothing left but bits and pieces. He was making this really difficult, but you were steadfast in your resolution: after tonight, you would quit him no matter what. 

For the remainder of the evening, you and Seungcheol cleared out the dakgalbi and several cans of beer while watching the latest episode of Thirty-Nine. It was common for you both to watch TV shows and movies together; though he was known for his intimidating look and build, Seungcheol had quite the affinity for romance movies and shows. In college, you would sometimes skip the parties and spend the night watching rom-coms instead. It was almost like a tradition for you two to have a marathon when you felt too lazy to do anything or felt that you “deserved” it after submitting your midterms and finals. 

You didn’t know this, but that was one of his favorite things to do with you until you started dating Yanan, a generally sweet guy, but he had a tendency for jealousy, and so your movie nights became more scarce. Seungcheol and Yanan never got along; Yanan didn’t like that your closest friend was a guy, and Seungcheol didn’t like that the closest guy to you wasn’t him. When the two of them were together, it was a constant competition for your attention. 

Yanan was your standard, run-of-the-mill guy from the countryside: gentlemanly, sweet, and he always looked out for you. You felt protected when you stood next to him. It didn’t help that he was also tall with broad shoulders (thanks to his history as a swimmer), and he had the kind of smile that lit up the whole room, that cheesy, Taylor-Swift-lyrics type of smile that was contagious. You were happy with Yanan. 

For a while. Those once saccharine smiles turned sour, and you had found yourself arguing with him almost daily. The problem? 

Seungcheol. 

Yanan had had enough of your friendship with him, forcing you to choose between your boyfriend and your best friend. And though you thought you loved Yanan, you were absolutely sure you loved Seungcheol too much to just throw away your friendship for a guy. 

Coincidentally, Seungcheol started dating Sookyung around this time; you were happy for him—of course you were—but you weren’t immune to the little green monster’s poison that seeped through your veins. Just like Seungcheol had seen less and less of you when you were with Yanan, the two of you didn’t seem to have many moments to be alone anymore. 

Sookyung was sweet, like, truly, genuinely the sweetest person you’d ever known. She was kind and beautiful and had long, brown tresses that swayed with her body when she moved. And most importantly? She made Seungcheol happy. When he introduced her to you, you wanted to find a reason, any reason, to dislike her, but she was flawless. When you swore like a sailor and sat with your legs wide open, she would cover her mouth when she laughed, her legs crossed like a proper lady. 

You were one of the boys, and she was Seungcheol’s girl. Still, you clung onto the hope that maybe they’d break up, and maybe you would have your best friend back. 

That never happened. 

What did happen, though, was the worst day of your life—the day Seungcheol got on one knee and pulled out a sparkly diamond ring, the words, “Will you marry me?” sounding like a foreign language coming out of his mouth. 

And lucky you, you got to be there for the supposedly joyous moment, but instead, your whole world had just shattered. Perhaps even worse than the proposal, worse than Sookyung saying “yes,” was when Seungcheol asked you to be his fiancée’s bridesmaid. What were you going to say? No? 

And so you, being the infatuated fool that you were, agreed, saying the little word that was so simple, yet so devastating. “Yes,” you had told him. “Absolutely. I’ll do it. Anything for you.”

Anything. 

To be fair, you thought maybe by then you’d be over him, dating someone else, someone who made you not just happy but happier. As if your life couldn’t fall apart any more than it already had, you were also heavily involved in the wedding planning process. Sookyung always asked you to help with this and that because she and Seungcheol “trusted your eye for design.” Curse your artistic gifts—you never thought they’d bite you in the ass like this. Yet, you obliged, going to cake tastings, helping Sookyung pick out linens, and lending a hand in  arranging the florist and caterers. Hell, you were practically their wedding planner. 

And what sealed your fate was the day you went wedding dress shopping with Sookyung. You wondered if maybe one day that would be you standing on the stage, mirrors and loved ones surrounding you while you evaluated the white gown on your body, clipped in the back to fit you. 

She was stunning. 

Stepping out of the fitting room with an ecstatic fitting assistant, Sookyung looked effortlessly beautiful in the lace gown, tulle draping down her sides in a stunning A-line silhouette. You were breathless looking at her, and you understood then, in that moment, why anyone loved her—why Seungcheol loved her. If this was the effect she had on you, you could only imagine how your best friend would feel seeing her walk down the aisle, and lucky you, you were going to be the one to bear witness to it all. 

“Well,” Seungcheol spoke, grunting as he stood up to throw away your trash, “guess it’s time to go home.”

You looked at the clock. 11:48 PM. It had been a while since he had been over this late, and you hadn’t realized how much time passed in your daze. 

“You should tell Sookyung to come over for dinner one of these days,” you proposed, though your words were a bit empty. 

“Yeah.” There was a pause, as if he was searching for the right thing to say. “I will.”

He made his way to the sink, ready to wash the utensils, but you stopped him. “I’ll do them. Go home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s late.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

You watched him put on his sneakers, that all-too-familiar view of his back haunting you. He let out a deep sigh as he stood up again, turning to look at you. There was a fond look in his eyes as he pressed his lips into a tight smile, causing a dimple to form in his cheek. 

The thing about Seungcheol was that he hated goodbyes, and so he never said them to you. To him, goodbyes meant the end, and your friendship was forever. He was a firm believer in that stupid saying, “It’s not ‘goodbye,’ it’s ‘see you later,’” and as cheesy as it was, you obliged him, never saying “goodbye” to him either. 

“I’ll call you,” he said before turning to go down the hall where the elevators were. 

“Good, dickhead.” 

He let out a hearty laugh. Regardless of how crude your words were, they brought a level of comfort to him. You waved at him until he was no longer in your sight. 

Goodbye, Seungcheol. 

———

“Are you going to take it?” Dahyun exclaimed, grasping your hand in both of hers. 

“That’s if I pass the interview first,” you replied with nonchalance, taking a sip of your cosmo. 

“Of course you’re going to pass the interview. You’re going to get it, dummy. No one deserves that job more than you.” 

You hoped Dahyun was right. You had been with your marketing company for the past four years, and an opening for a manager position had become available. The only catch was that you’d have to move two hours outside of the city, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. With him out of sight, he’d certainly be out of mind, and quitting would become easier than it was now. 

“You’re moving?” Vernon asked.

“Hi, Vern,” Dahyun said with a sly smile. You watched the bartender’s ears turn red as he nodded at her in return but turned his attention back to you. “Yes, she is.”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe,” you corrected her. 

“Does this have anything to do with your friend?” he interrogated.

“No.” 

Vernon shot you a pointed look.

“Maybe.” You chugged the remainder of the vodka in your glass, the alcohol burning your throat as it went down, warming your body from within. 

The following morning, you packed your bags and threw them into the back of your shabby Honda Accord—though it was old, you could always trust it to get you where you needed to be. You had taken a few days off from work to go to this interview; you needed a break, and maybe a couple extra days would help you prepare for this interview and, most importantly, clear your mind from everything that was plaguing you. 

It was only a three-day trip, but you were excited to get away and even potentially land this job—if not, maybe it was time for you to find a different company. Regardless of what happened, it was a much-needed break. In the days prior, you had made a sort of “breakup” playlist even though technically you and Seungcheol had never been together, but maybe blasting songs about how you deserved better would actually trick you into thinking such a thing. 

You deserved to be someone’s first choice—not their second—and you kept telling yourself this during your drive, the road to your hotel seemingly never ending. You pulled up outside a large building; the company had paid for you to stay here, and you were thankful for it. Despite your current pay grade, you were still a bit of a cheapskate, and if it had been up to you, you’d have booked a cheaper place, but this wasn’t your money, so you didn’t care. 

After you checked in, you were given a balcony room on the eighth floor with a view of the river. The floors were a clean, white tile, and it was a large, spacious room, one that was much too big for a single person, but again, it wasn’t your money, and you weren’t about to complain. You had a couple days before your interview, and despite being in a new city, all you really wanted to do was, well, nothing. You opened your maps app and looked for nearby restaurants and things to do—someone had recommended a walk by the river, and given your current view, it didn’t seem to be too far away. A long walk along the river sounded perfect. 

It was the best decision you had made—even though the weather was below freezing, the walk was refreshing, and you realized that you hadn’t had much time to stretch your legs these days. Your job required you to be glued to your desk and chair nearly 24/7, and you couldn’t find it in you to make time to go to the gym.

Sometimes, life was better when you didn’t have a plan, so you decided just to walk wherever your legs would take you, only checking your phone in case someone texted or called you about the job. The frigid air bit the skin on your cheeks, which made you stuff your face deeper into your coat, your hands shoved into the depths of your pockets, but this was a pain you preferred to the other one you felt in your heart. Not many people were out right now; most people, you assumed, were staying warm in the comforts of their home instead of taking walks along the river in glacial temperatures. 

When your legs began to grow sore and the muscles in your knees tightened, you decided that it was best for you to return to your hotel before you became too tired. The door unlocked after a melodic beep, and you immediately collapsed onto the bed, hoping the comforter would swallow you whole. The fabric was cool against your face as you stared blankly at the wall pondering your life—how did you get here, being hopelessly in love with your best friend? What would have happened if you had just told him no? If you had just quit him early on? Maybe you would have been much happier than you were now instead of running away from your problems. 

Hunger prevailed as your stomach growled; the prior walk had taken too much out of you that you decided you would just go down to the convenience store right outside the hotel and grab some ramen and maybe a couple cans of beer. A smart person wouldn’t have been so lazy and would have explored the area that they might be moving to, but a smart person also wouldn’t have been in love with their best friend or agreed to be his wife’s bridesmaid or secretly wish for him to divorce said wife. 

But hey, you weren’t a genius. Nor were you a saint. You knew this, yet you still hated yourself for feeling this way, but at the same time, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t let go of your feelings for Seungcheol. 

You shook your head.

No.

You wouldn’t think of him while you were gone. Out of sight, out of mind. That was how the saying went, right?

Closing your eyes, you let the harsh hotel light seep through your eyelids. Just then, your brief moment of peace was disturbed by the sound of your phone ringing. 

Speak of the fucking devil.

You unlocked your phone and sat up.

“Hey,” you said, trying your best to sound enthusiastic.

Cheollie wants to turn on video. 

Accept?

Accept.

“Where are you? You home?”

“No, I’m… out of town.”

“For what?”

“Business meeting.” Obviously, that was a lie. You were interviewing for the manager position, and if you got it, you’d be moving out here for the foreseeable future. He didn’t have to know that, though. 

“Oh. Nearby?”

“Ish?”

“Give me a room tour.”

“Okay.”

You flipped the camera around and showed him the room the company had booked for you—a Premium Deluxe Queen Suite with a Balcony and View of the River. It was pretty fucking nice and you were thankful your boss was onboard with letting you come for four days instead of two. 

“Damn, luxury living,” Seungcheol drawled out. 

“I know, isn’t this shit nice?”

“For a meeting? When did they start rolling in money?”

“Gotta thank those angel investors for believing in us.”

“Are you eating well?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Cheol. What are you? My mother?” Your voice was starting to sound defensive, even you knew this, but you couldn’t help it. 

“You’re not eating ramen and beer are you?”

You paused, eyeing the cups and cans on your bedside table. Maybe he wouldn’t notice. 

“What’s the address of the hotel you’re staying at?”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna order you delivery.”

“I’m fine—”

“Address. Now.” You groaned and sent him your location over messages. “Room number?”

“808.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not getting delivery now, are you? I’m about to eat.”

“No, but expect it tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Tomorrow came when you opened your eyes, the sunlight barely able to come through those blackout curtains of the hotel. Propping yourself up, you checked your phone.

Have a good conference :) 

It was actually irritating how supportive Seungcheol was, but you guessed that’s what best friends were supposed to do. Be supportive and not fall in love with each other. Maybe you should take note of that. 

You murmured self-affirmations to yourself as you craned your neck towards the mirror, pulling the mascara wand up and away from your lashes to give them some length and volume. To pull your look together, you picked your favorite lip tint, a classy and chic mauve that looked natural but put together. 

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you adjusted your grey blazer and matching trousers and slipped your feet into your black block heels—you were going to make today your bitch. 

Your interview process was split into two sessions throughout the day: a group session in the morning and a solo interview in the afternoon. Despite your nerves and anxiety, when you arrived at the conference rooms of the building, a sudden burst of confidence surged through your veins, invigorating your spirit with such electricity that you nearly blacked out from the adrenaline rush. 

To say that you thought the day went well would be an understatement, and what better way to celebrate a good day than with some ramen and beer. The bell above the 7-Eleven door chimed as you nearly slammed it against the wall from excitement, whistling while your eyes scanned the various types of alcohol on display in the cooler.

Cass, Heineken, Corona, BudLight, Hite, soju, makgeolli, sake, red wine, white wine.

Hmm. Rosé seemed good. Maybe that and… peach soju, and… a Cass beer. It was a recipe for disaster, but you had two full days to recover before you had to head back to the city anyway. And you couldn’t drink on an empty stomach, so you grabbed several triangle kimbaps from the counter and threw them in your basket as well. 

Yeah, this was good, you thought to yourself, already feeling drunk on the thought of what the future would bring despite not having had a single sip of your alcohol yet. 

When you returned to your hotel, you turned the shower on, steam fogging up the glass immediately. You would have a relaxing shower and let your drinks cool a bit before spending the night drinking and watching whatever movies the hotel had to offer on the TV. 

The hot water warmed your skin and soothed your muscles; they had been aching all day, but you hadn’t noticed the pain in all your elation. The shampoo and conditioner smelled of jasmine, tangerines, and eucalyptus, which only alleviated your senses further. 

After your shower, you threw on the gratuitous robe the hotel offered, wrapped your hair up in your towel, and put the slippers—also complimentary— on to live your best, luxurious life. In all the buzz and enthusiasm, you had completely forgotten about Seungcheol’s promise of ordering delivery, that was, until you got another text from him.

How do you feel about steak tacos?

i’m more of a carnitas gal

Done.

Within the hour, there was a knock on the door—presumably your delivery—but to your surprise, your best friend (whom, mind you, you were trying to quit) was standing outside your hotel door, two plastic bags lifted above his head as he barged into your room without another word. 

“I thought you were ordering delivery,” you inquired, pulling the robe over your chest. You tried your best to hide the fact that you were completely naked underneath the white fabric, covertly grabbing your pajamas and underwear from the bed before sneaking into the bathroom to change. Fortunately, he had his back to you while he unpacked the food.

“I am the delivery,” he replied cheekily. God, you hated him right now, but the smell of those tacos were more enticing than your supposed hatred for your best friend.

“What are you doing here?” You stepped out, hands hurriedly drying your hair with your towel, though really you were hiding your anxiety. 

“I’m not allowed to hang out with my best friend?”

“I’m just…” you paused, contemplating the right words to say. Devastated? Upset? Shocked? What word could really capture the way you were feeling right then and there? “…surprised to see you.”

“Good, my plan worked,” he said, placing the bags on the spare space of the marble counter in your room. Pulling out the food, as well as several cans of beer, he looked at you with accomplishment. “Carnitas for the lady, steak for me.”

For the lady. In an alternate universe, ‘lady’ would imply that you were his lady, not just some word that wrung your heart dry like a towel. How in the world were you supposed to get over him when he was doing shit like this? Even then, you didn’t have the heart to turn him away, let alone be honest about the way he made you feel. 

No.

He could never know. 

It was better for everyone that your secret stayed exactly that—a secret. Sure, maybe Vernon and Dahyun knew, but that was enough because you knew that they weren’t children who would spread something like that without your permission. 

“Dig in,” Seungcheol said, his eyes watching you with anticipation. 

Eagerly, you picked up the taco, the aroma quickly filling your hotel room. The warmth of the tortilla and crispy pork was delicious as it melted in your mouth, contrasted by the cool, crunchy texture of the pico de gallo. Everything about this moment was perfect, again, minus the fact that the man you were in love with was married, the silver ring on his left hand glistening under the luminous hotel lights. 

Sitting on your bed with him now reminded you of the days before your lives got complicated, the days when you would spend just about every waking moment together. Especially after your father passed away, Seungcheol would always take care of you, unwrapping your triangle kimbaps and poking straws through the aluminum lid of banana milks. Back then, the only thing you two were really worried about was if you had enough crumpled bills in the pockets of your uniforms for snacks after school. You didn’t know what love was or what it felt like to be consumed by a poisonous jealousy that would eat away at your soul for years on end. 

Back then, things were simple. 

“Hey!” Seungcheol yelled out as you took a bite of your next taco. “Be careful, you’re going to get oil on the bed sheets, and then they’ll charge you extra.”

“You act like I can’t afford to pay for an extra dry cleaning service.”

“That’s not the point,” he nagged. He always nagged. Always. Whether it was about making sure you had your homework and pencils, or about the way you ate, he was always nagging. But a part of you liked it since you knew he only did it because he cared. 

Would he always care about you this way? It wasn’t a complex question, but the answer wasn’t so simple. What would happen when he left? Not just the hotel, but your life? When he and Sookyung would announce that they’re having their first child? Or their second? Third? Would he still make sure you were wiping your mouth? Would he still open triangle kimbap for you? Make sure all your banana milks had a straw through the lid?

“Are you happy?”

You were in the middle of a bite when his question threw you off guard; were you?

Even if you were breaking from the inside out, even if you were suffering through one of the most painful heartbreaks in your life, he could never know that you were unhappy nor that he was the cause of it. “Yeah,” you lied with confidence. “I am. Are you?”

He was staring out the window at the river as if the moonlight glistening on the water had hypnotized him.

“Cheol?”

“What?”

“Are you happy?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good. I want you to be happy,” you told him. It was true—you wanted him to be happy, but you also wanted to be the reason for his happiness. 

“I want you to be happy, too,” he said with a sad smile. You could tell he had something on his mind, but if you asked, then he would tell you what was bothering him, and that would only make it harder for you to push him away. 

After you had finished eating, Seungcheol took it upon himself to clean up (which only made the aching in your heart worse). He plopped down onto the bed where you were laying, your eyes fixated on the bright light fixture in the ceiling. 

The two of you didn’t talk about anything of importance that night—instead, you recounted high school memories, complained about annoying coworkers, and gushed about the ending of that drama you had been watching. Despite the cans of beer that Seungcheol had brought sitting out on your vanity, they remained completely untouched for the most part (Seungcheol drank a couple and you stole a few sips of his) since he had to leave soon anyway.

Or so you thought. 

Your conversations lasted hours, and before you knew it, you had passed out. The sunlight trickled into your hotel room as your eyes fluttered open to adjust to the brightness. When you adjusted your position in the bed, you felt something strange and firm under your neck—

Oh no. 

This was bad. Very, very, extremely, terribly, horribly bad. Seungcheol was next to you with his arm under your head. You were sure that nothing had happened last night—you were both fully clothed—but even if you didn’t sleep together, sleeping together wasn’t a good look either, especially if someone were to walk in on you like this. It wasn’t like you could easily provide excuses as to why you were so close to your friend who, mind you, was in a happy marriage with a woman whom he loved very much (and wasn’t you). 

Slowly, you rolled out of bed, cautious as to not disturb the sleeping lion next to you. 

Even though it was your day off, you had to get out of there because the longer you stayed, the chances of you doing something you’d regret for the rest of your life increased tenfold. All you needed was your wallet which was… right next to Seungcheol on the bedside table. Great.

Your footsteps were soft against the tiled floor, your socks doing a good job of dampening each step. Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were projecting some kind of fantasy onto him, but even while he was asleep, he seemed happier than he had been those other times you had seen him. 

Seungcheol had insomnia, but seeing him sleep so peacefully like this, his long lashes flush against his skin, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly with each exhale, his lips that you wish you could taste, just this once—

But you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. He wasn’t yours in a capacity that would allow you to entertain such thoughts. Yet, maybe you would just look…

His eyes fluttered open and now you were really fucked, your face only centimeters away from his. The silence of your room drowned out your thoughts and you stood up quickly. 

“Um, morning. I’m just heading out. I have another meeting with a client,” you lied. It was Saturday, but for all he knew, this could be a conference, and you were fortunate that Seungcheol had absolutely zero knowledge of the industry because you’d be more screwed than you already were. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’ll see you.”

Turning on your heels, you tried to walk away as quickly as possible, but you were stopped by the feeling of his hand grabbing onto yours. 

“Were you about to…”

Right then and there, the blood drained from your face and your limbs went numb. 

There was nothing more that you wanted than to disappear off the face of the earth, yet why was it that you were thinking about how good it felt to hold his rough hands? 

“I’ll see you later,” you blurted out, yanking your hand from his and leaving the room without looking back. Not even once. 

———

“Cheers!” The shouting of your coworkers and best friends were somehow able to drown out the pounding bass of the dive bar. Vernon had offered you and Dahyun free shots for the night, but since you were moving first thing in the morning, limiting yourself to a happy buzz was the farthest you would go tonight. 

“I am so proud of you,” Dahyun exclaimed, planting a kiss on your cheek. This was her drunk habit—kissing her best friend and getting extremely touchy, though you didn’t mind. She was cute, giggly, and of course, more bold when she drank. You wouldn’t be surprised if somehow she managed to go home with Vernon tonight with the amount of courage she now had in her system—about time, too. They were cute and you had been trying to get them together for a while now. Any success they had, they’d have to owe it all to you. 

“Thanks, boo,” you replied, the pet name coming out with ease as the alcohol swirled in your body. 

“Let’s dance!” She slammed her glass against the counter (this caused Vernon to wince at the idea of his precious crystalline being smashed into pieces) and was quick to grab your hand, dragging you out to the dance floor where you weaved through warm bodies moving drunkenly to the music. Under the strobing red, blue, and green lights, you let the music and the alcohol take control of your body—for once, it felt nice to let loose and feel all your worries dissipate into the night. 

On the walk home, your head buzzed from the drinks, and for the first time in a while, you were excited at the prospect of your future. Perhaps things would work out after all. As you neared your apartment, a familiar man stood outside kicking at the ground. 

“Cheol?”

“When were you going to tell me?” His voice was sullen.

“Tell you what?” In reality, you knew exactly what he was asking about, though you thought maybe by playing dumb, somehow that would prolong your encounter with reality, a reality that didn’t involve Seungcheol.

He furrowed his eyebrows. You hated the way he looked at you. “That you got a new job?”

A lump formed in your throat. Suddenly, it was hard to swallow. All the happiness you felt just thirty minutes ago disappeared in the blink of an eye. You thought maybe you could get away scot-free and disappear from his life quietly, but with him standing here in front of you like this, it was becoming clear that you had to face your reality. 

As you searched for something, anything, to say, Seungcheol began tapping his foot against the pavement, impatient for an answer. When you didn’t respond, he scoffed. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are—”

“So, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was going to—”

“When? Huh? After you moved?”

“What?”

“You’re moving tomorrow, aren’t you?”

How did he know that?

“Seungcheol—”

“I can’t believe you. You are so ridiculous.”

You pressed your lips into a tight line. It didn’t matter that he was right, that you were ridiculous—hearing that from him only annoyed you. 

“Well, now you know,” you responded, your tone dry and uncaring.

The incredulous laugh he let out stung and made your heart ache. “Yeah, and I had to find out from everyone except you. You know, you’re the one person I thought I could trust. I thought you trusted me.”

I do, you wanted to tell him. 

“You’ve been weird since that weekend,” he said, changing the subject. How could you not feel weird when you almost found yourself kissing your married best friend? If loving a taken man was a line you weren’t supposed to cross, then almost kissing him would send you straight to hell. Worse yet, you didn’t think he would notice.

But of course he did. He was your best friend after all, and for all the moments he could be dense as fuck, he knew you like the back of his hand—or, at least he thought he did. Despite his best efforts to decipher your words and actions lately, it seemed that every conclusion he came to was dead wrong. Even now, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking, your poker face doing a good job of hiding how you truly felt inside. 

“I’ve just been busy,” you tried to defend yourself. 

“No. You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not—”

“What aren’t you telling me? Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?”

You kind of were, but mostly you were mad at yourself. So much could have been avoided if you had confessed your feelings to Seungcheol in university when you had the chance. Foolishly, you allowed yourself to believe that your feelings for him were fleeting, a passing moment that would come and go like the seasons. Your love had no expiration date, you’d find out later. 

“No…” 

“Then what is it? Why are you acting like this? Why can’t you answer my questions?”

Something in you snapped, your eyes went red, and suddenly you were shouting at the man you had loved for most of your life. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know why I can’t answer your questions. I don’t know why I’m acting this way. What I do know is that I want you to leave me alone.”

“No.” His voice was firm like the grasp he had on your arms, his fingers constricting around your skin. “Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“I don’t fucking know!” Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as you tried your hardest to hold them back, your eyes looking at the ground to avoid the inevitable onslaught of emotion that would happen if you looked at him. 

“Yes you do! Look at me,” he said, shaking you. 

“Fine! I’m a fucking idiot, okay? I’m a fucking idiot who’s stupidly in love with you, and I can’t stand that I’ve been doing this for so long now, and I just want to get away from it all. I just want to get away from you.” 

Seungcheol’s face loosened as he slowly processed your words, his brain a jumbled mess. He eased his grip on you, making it easy for you to shake him off as you two stood there awkwardly. You turned away from him, wiping the tears that were now streaming down your face. 

You took a step back. “I think it’s best you don’t call me. In fact, I think we shouldn’t see each other ever again. Goodbye, Seungcheol.”

And without looking back, you turned your back on him, an ache boring through your soul as you walked inside your building. 

———

The past year flew by—you had settled nicely into your job as the manager for your marketing and design firm, and your new team seemed to love you already. You had an assistant, Chan, to help schedule your meetings—something you weren’t used to—but you did enjoy the convenience that came with having him there. 

Your fingers clacked away at your keyboard as you were preparing a presentation for a big client when a knocking on your door snapped you out of your zone. “Come in,” you blurted.

“Someone’s here to see you,” Chan said, peeking his head through the doorframe. 

“Do I have a meeting scheduled right now? I thought I was free until the afternoon,” you replied, not looking up from your monitor.

“Nothing’s on the schedule as far as I know.”

“Okay. Let them in.” Chan nodded and opened the door, letting the guest in. 

The moment you caught a glimpse of her face, you shot up from your seat. You recognized her bright eyes and high cheekbones, the way her long black hair framed her face perfectly, and the sheer elegance she exuded no matter where she went. There was only one thing that was different: her belly. 

Everything about her had remained the same except now her hands were holding her stomach. 

She was hesitant to come in further, and upon seeing the shock on your face, she wondered if being here was as good of an idea as she had intended. “Hi,” she said, her voice awkward like she was a teenager entering her first day of school.

“Sookyung?” You stood up immediately, rounding the corner of your desk. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she spoke. 

“Yeah… it has been…” You didn’t realize you were still staring at her baby bump until your office fell dead silent, the only sounds coming from your mini-fridge and your desk fan that you kept on while you worked. “Please,” you said, gesturing towards the couch. “Sit down.”

She must have been pretty far along given the size of her belly and the noise she made when she sat on the leather cushion, relieved to be off her feet. 

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?” 

“I wouldn’t mind a little tea,” she replied sheepishly. 

“Is jasmine okay?”

She nodded. 

As you prepared the hot water, you kept your back to her, your brain running through every possible scenario as to why she was here. Yet, despite your desperate attempt to plan how you would approach this, you weren’t ready for what she was about to tell you.

When the water finished boiling, you poured it into the mugs you only pulled out for your VIP clients. “Be careful,” you warned her. “It’s hot.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking the mug into her hands. 

“So… what… are you doing here? How did you find me?”

Sookyung just stared into her mug, contemplating how to explain herself. 

“Sorry,” you blurted. “I… I’m just surprised to see you. How… how are you doing?”

She looked up finally and met you with a hesitant smile. “Seungcheol told me you got a new job here, and I have a friend who works here as well–but I’m good. I’ve never been better actually.” Your eyes fell upon her belly again.

“How far along are you?” 

“Six and a half months.”

“Wow, Soo, congratulations! You and Seungcheol must be so happy!”

Her face dropped at your mention of his name. 

“Actually, that’s why I came to see you.”

Your stomach flipped. “What do you mean?”

“We… got divorced.”

“You what?”

“You guys what?” Your eyes fell on her hands, a ring decorating her left finger. “But your—”

“It was a long time coming,” she chuckled softly. “This is from someone else.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean ‘It was a long time coming’? You guys were fine.”

“Is that what it seemed like?”

It was. But you also couldn’t remember the last time Seungcheol had talked about his married life with Sookyung. 

“We fought a lot,” she continued. “Like, a lot.”

“Soo, I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault,” she offered, yet an abrupt wave of guilt washed over you. “Do you remember our wedding day?”

You nodded. 

———

Of course you remembered their wedding day—who could forget the way Seungcheol looked at you when you arrived after telling him you wouldn’t make it? The two of you had gotten into a nasty fight just weeks prior when you had asked him if he was sure jumping into marriage was the right choice.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” he had said. In all your years of friendship, you had never gotten into a fight as bad as this one, but neither of you would back down because of your pride. 

“You’ve barely been together for a year, and suddenly you’re engaged and getting married? It doesn’t make sense!”

“No, you’re just sad, and lonely, and bitter because everyone you date ends up dumping you because you can’t give them what they want.”

“Fuck you, Choi Seungcheol.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yeah. You are.” He wasn’t. He was completely right, because you could never fully give yourself to anyone. Your heart belonged to one person, and one person only: him. But you couldn’t tell him that. 

“If you’re going to be like this, then get the fuck out of my apartment.”

“Fine.”

“And don’t even think about showing up to the wedding.”

You swore your heart dropped to the floor. You knew you should have turned around and apologized, but you let your stubbornness get the best of you as you slammed his door behind you. 

Neither of you meant any of the things you had said, but it didn’t reverse the damage that had already been done. You had practically been uninvited to your best friend’s wedding, and upon hearing what had happened, Sookyung was the one to reach out and tell you that she really wanted you there. You had tried to tell her that you were uninvited, but she reminded you that this was her wedding, too, but you held your line. And you were almost able to get away with it had it not been for Seungkwan begging you to drive him to the wedding hall after Soonyoung had woken up late. 

None of your other friends had known about the fight, and you fully intended on dropping him off and leaving until he dragged you inside. You had missed the ceremony, but the reception was in full force, the other guests mixing and mingling with drinks in hand.

“Seungkwan—” his voice echoed through the hallway, stopping when he saw you. 

“Seungcheol, congratulations!” Seungkwan exclaimed, approaching his friend with a big hug. “Now, where’s Sookyung?”

“She’s… in the other room,” Seungcheol’s voice trailed off, his eyes fixed on you instead. He had always been an open book, his emotions written all over his face, but that day, you couldn’t tell what was going through his mind. 

“Great, I gotta go see her.” And with that, Seungkwan was gone, leaving the two of you alone. 

“Um, hey,” you said. 

“Hey.”

“C-congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

The silence was so much louder than the hooting and hollering of the guests in the reception hall.

“I’m sorry—”

“Sorry for—”

You paused and looked at him. Clearing your throat, you asserted yourself. “I’m sorry for what happened a few weeks ago. I was being too overprotective of you when I should have just trusted you.”

 “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean what I said that night. I just—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” you told him, wrapping him in your arms. “I want you to know that I’m happy for you, Cheol. I really am. You’re my best friend and you deserve to be the happiest.”

He returned your embrace. “You’re my best friend, too. I couldn’t ever stand to lose you. You deserve to be the happiest, too.”

“I am,” you had said, and though that was a lie, maybe it would be true one day.

———

“I’m not following, Soo. What does your wedding day have to do with your divorce?” Your throat suddenly felt like it was constricting, depriving you of the oxygen you needed to live. 

“Our wedding day… it was a mistake.” Despite everything that had happened, she still managed to smile. If you were her, you weren’t sure you could do the same. But she wasn’t you—she was Shim Sookyung, the girl everyone loved because she was just that kind and lovely. 

“There’s no way. You guys are perfect for each other!” Despite that deep-seated desire in your heart that you once harbored for Seungcheol to be yours, this new reality somehow didn’t seem any better. Sure, your best friend was single now, but why was it starting to feel like all of this was your fault?

Sookyung let out a chuckle. “You guys are too similar. Seungcheol said the same thing when I asked for the divorce.”

“Soo, I’m confused. What’s going on?”

“I’ve known for a long time that we weren’t going to work. I knew that Seungcheol’s heart didn’t belong to me, but mine didn’t belong to him either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… fell in love with someone else. A long time ago. His name is Youngbin. During university, he had graduated and moved away, and I thought I would never see him again. And so I started dating Seungcheol to cope with my heartbreak. I didn’t think it would last long, but a selfish part of me wanted to hold onto him because maybe, just maybe, if I was with him long enough, I’d forget about Youngbin. But just before the wedding, Youngbin moved back and he reached out to me. He asked me to run away with him, but I told him no, I was in love with Seungcheol. We had gone through so much trouble to plan the wedding and invite everyone, I couldn’t just call it off. But I should have. I was a coward.”

“Soo…”

“I know, I’m pathetic,” she admitted. “In the beginning, things were fine. I thought, ‘Maybe I could see myself with Seungcheol for the rest of my life,’ but things turned for the worse quickly. We fought a lot over the smallest things, started sleeping in different rooms, and I was living with a man I didn’t know anymore. And you know Cheol, he never backs down.”

You nodded. You did know that, and you knew that well. 

“I tried, I really tried to tell myself that this was the right decision—that he was the right decision—but ultimately, I knew the answer. We both did. It was clear from the beginning, but he was too prideful and I was too selfish to admit it.”

“So, then what about…” your voice trailed off, but your eyes pointed to her baby bump. 

“Oh, it’s not Cheol’s, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she laughed. You wondered how even through all of this, she could be so calm and nonchalant. Sure, she had been nervous coming into your office, but now that she could get all of this off her chest, relief washed over her. “Youngbin and I,” she continued, now holding her belly. “We’re getting married.”

Your eyes widened and you swore you nearly dropped your mug (which, mind you, was still full of piping hot water). “Oh my god, Sookyung! That’s,” you paused, trying to find the right words, “amazing!” 

 “Thank you,” she smiled at you. “But this isn’t what I came here to tell you.”

Your eyebrows wrinkled with confusion. What else could she possibly tell you after dropping the bomb that she and Seungcheol were divorced and she was pregnant with another man’s baby?

“Seungcheol and I,” she continued. “We’re on good terms. He congratulated me on my engagement and the baby. I guess I just want you to know that we’re on good terms. I don’t have anything against you or Cheol. I love you guys, and I always will.”

If not for the sound of your team hustling and bustling outside, perhaps you could have heard your heart shattering. 

“Soo, what are you trying to get at?”

“I think you guys should be together.”

“No.” The answer flew out of your mouth before you even had time to fully process what she was trying to tell you. “No, I couldn’t. I can’t do that to you.”

“You’re not doing anything to me. If anything, you’d be doing me a favor because then I can stop worrying about you both.”

“Worry about us? That doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense is Seungcheol and I spending four years of our lives denying our hearts and trying to find the answers in each other when they were never there in the first place. You may not see it, but he loves you.”

“No, he doesn’t. You should have seen us the day before I left. He was so upset with me. We’re not friends anymore, Soo.”

“You should have seen him when he came home that night. He was heartbroken. You’re his best friend—”

“Was his best friend.”

“No, you still are. Listen to me,” she said, reaching across the table to grab your hands. “You still are his best friend. I don’t know what was said that night, but nothing will ever change that fact.”

“Sookyung—”

“Listen to me. Trust me, if not yourself. You guys really are too similar,” she laughed again. “You should talk to him. Figure out your stuff. Be happy. With each other.”  

  You could only shake your head. How could she possibly know how Seungcheol felt about you? If you were him, you’d never want to see you again after what happened that night. Imagine the heartbreak he felt when you, his best friend, didn’t tell him the biggest news of your life. On top of that, you had confessed your long-time love for him and declared you never wanted to see him ever again. At this point, did you even deserve happiness? 

Why would he want to see you, let alone talk to you? 

“I don’t know if there’s hope for us anymore.”

“How would you know if you never ask him? God,” she huffed teasingly, “you two really are similar, and I hate you both for it.”

“We are not!”

The cackle that came out of her mouth was almost insulting. “He literally said the same thing to me. Just trust me and talk to him. Please. It’s the least you could do for me.”

“Soo, please,” you groaned. You couldn’t believe she was pulling this card on you as if you hadn’t just ruined her marriage and been the cause of her divorce.

“What’s stopping you?”

“This is all my fault—”

“It’s all of our faults,” she assured you with a squeeze of your hands. The laughter that fell from her lips was as charming as ever. “We’re all idiots.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “We are, aren’t we?”

“Promise me you’ll talk to him?”

Sighing, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to her. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

She stood up from her seat on your couch, releasing your hands. “I should probably get going. Bin is waiting for me downstairs.”

You watched as she wobbled to the door. “Soo?” She turned around, surprised when you wrapped her in your arms. “Thank you.”

“Let’s all be happy, okay?”

“Okay.” 

———

Hey… can we talk?

Your fingers hovered over the ‘Send’ button before finding the backspace, the letters you had written gone in a blink. Since Sookyung’s visit, you had promised her you’d talk to Seungcheol, but every time you went to message him, you chickened out. 

It was only four simple words, but doubt overcame your best intentions. What if he didn’t want to talk to you? What if he was seeing someone else? What if that only made things worse? But then again, how bad could it get at that point? It’s not like you had much to lose anymore, but the mere prospect of making his loss in your life more permanent made your heart ache. 

Hot oil splattered against your skin, a miniscule moment of pain for delicious, grilled pork belly with pepper paste wrapped in cool, crisp lettuce. Your team had just landed a VIP client and it was all thanks to your hard work in gaining their trust. You were happy seeing your team’s bright, smiling faces, excited to do a job they were passionate about, and in theory, you were happy about the job, too. You wanted to be laughing and celebrating with them, but your mind kept looping back to Sookyung’s words.

You still are his best friend.

Be happy. With each other.

Taeyang, your lead designer, put a glass of beer in front of you, a shot glass of soju sitting atop a pair of chopsticks. “Drink up, chief,” he said cheekily. 

You smiled at him, thankful at his gesture. You slammed the table with your fists and watched the smaller glass fall to the bottom of the larger, bubbles forming as the alcohol reacted with each other, your coworker whooping and cheering as you chugged the soju bomb. 

Tonight, you wanted to be able to celebrate your wins with your team rather than moping over a message to send Seungcheol, so you locked your phone and put it on ‘Do not Disturb’ as you enjoyed the grilled meat and the company of your team. Your message to him would be a matter for tomorrow. 

Maybe.

By the time dinner ended, you had drank enough to have a good time and you truly had forgotten about Seungcheol. You were happy, giggly even, and hiccuping as you sent off your team one-by-one in their taxis. Fortunately, your new apartment was only a seven-minute walk from the restaurant. You waved goodbye to your colleagues before taking off towards your home. 

The frigid night air was refreshing against your warm skin, and you felt yourself sobering up with every step you took. Now, all you needed was a shower and to get snuggled up under your warm comforter. 

The light from the lobby of your apartment grew brighter as you got closer, but you noticed someone standing just outside the doors. You squinted to see who it was, maybe your neighbor Joshua who had forgotten his keys in his apartment again. But as your vision cleared, you recognized him immediately—how could you not know his shoulders, his hair, that favorite red puffer jacket of his, his hands shoved deep into the pockets? 

You were dreaming. You had to be, because why would he be here? Right? It didn’t make sense. Before you could scrutinize him any further, he turned around, a bit shocked to see you despite that being the reason he was here. In front of your apartment.

“Seungcheol?” Though a year had passed since you last saw him, his grip on your heart never loosened and you could hear it pounding in your ears. 

“Um, hi,” he sniffled, his nose rosy and his breath visible from the cold air. 

“What are you… how did you find my apartment?” 

“Dahyun told me,” he confessed. Damn it, you couldn’t trust that girl to keep information to herself, could you? 

“I… Why are you here?” Twice in one week you had asked two separate people that question, but you really didn’t understand why this was happening, and now of all times. 

“Can we talk?” The words you had struggled with for the past week seemed so effortless coming from him. Little did you know that he only came here on impulse because he found himself having a hard time sending you a text as well. 

“Um, yeah.” You motioned for him to follow you upstairs. The elevator ride up was quiet, which was now becoming more common for you two than not. It was strange, this new apartment of yours. For so long, Seungcheol had grown used to your old apartment, the one he knew almost as well as he knew you, but this one was uncharted territory for him. Even the elevator and lock outside your door were different. Never in his life had he felt so distant from you, and he hated every part of it.

When you entered your apartment, you haphazardly kicked off your shoes, still a bit drunk from earlier. He took his shoes off, too, arranging his and yours neatly by the door before stepping into your home. You went into the kitchen and turned the stove on, putting water into the kettle for tea.

“You can sit down,” you told him as you ripped the tea bags open. 

He sat down on your couch—it was stiff and much newer than the one you’d previously had. Less broken in, he guessed. In fact, everything in your apartment was new and modern in contrast to the items you had bought second-hand at your last place. His mind wandered as you lingered in the kitchen, afraid to turn around and confront the reality that your best friend (well, ex-best friend) was sitting in your home at that very moment. 

Did you ever bring other people here? 

Did they know your apartment the way he knew your old one? Jealousy seeped within his veins at the idea that that was even possible. 

Once the water was finished boiling, you poured it into two mugs with chamomile tea bags, the smell wafting gently into your nose. With a deep breath, you took the cups into the living room and set them down in front of him as you sat down on the chair adjacent to him. 

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” you said, your voice cracking slightly. Awkwardly, you stood up to open the window. Granted, with it being winter, you hadn’t opened the window for several months, so it was difficult getting it to budge now.

“Here, let me help.” Before you knew it, you felt the warmth of his body behind you. With his strength, the window opened easily, but even with the winter air coming in, the tension didn’t go down. 

You both sat down again and you took your mug into your hands. It was still too hot for you to be holding it, but the heat on your palms gave you something to think about other than what possible thing Seungcheol could say to you. 

“So…” you began, “how are you?”

“How have you been?”

You smiled awkwardly at each other, your grip on your mug tightening as a reflex.

“I’m okay,” you replied. “Tired.” The longer you sat there, the more you started to feel the alcohol take its final toll on you, your eyes growing heavier with every passing second. Seungcheol noticed, too. Deciding it was probably best he tabled this discussion for tomorrow when you were in your right mind, he stood up. 

“I think you should get some sleep instead.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked, though you weren’t sure what was really going on anymore. 

“Yeah, we can talk tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” His voice was soft, and even in your tipsy, sleepy state, it was comforting. 

You stood up to see him out the door, but your knees buckled from under you. Seungcheol caught you in time before you fell to the ground, helping you up. He should probably make sure you get to bed without hurting yourself before he left. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked.

Pointing to the closed door in the northwest corner of your living room, he led you inside and let you sit on the bed as he opened your closet, looking for pajamas for you to change into. When he opened a drawer, his heart ached—he immediately recognized a small graphic tee that peeked out from the bottom. That was his t-shirt. One that you had borrowed one time in high school when you were repainting your childhood bedroom and then claimed you “lost.” He had gotten so mad at you that he ignored you for five days until you came knocking on his door with various sweets you had baked yourself as a peace offering. It was then that he realized he could never be mad at you for too long. And it was then that he realized he wanted you to be in his life forever.

He pulled the shirt out along with a pair of pajama pants and dropped it into your lap. 

“Can you get changed on your own?” he asked.

You nodded your head, the weight threatening to throw you forward. Seungcheol propped you up instead, helping you stand on your feet.

“Yeah. But don’t look,” you mumbled, pouting. 

It was probably inappropriate to be thinking this way, but Seungcheol found you cute when you made that face, your eyebrows furrowed, your nose crinkled, and your bottom lip jutting out as far as it could go. It was the same face you used to make as a child when things wouldn’t go your way. 

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “I won’t,” he assured you, turning around first just to be sure. He stood in silence, the sound of the fabric against your skin mixed with your subdued grunts filling the room as you tried to change your clothes in your drunken state. He knew he shouldn’t but he was slightly curious, so, Seungcheol, being the nosy guy he was, he turned around to peek at you.

You had somehow managed to put your head through a sleeve, your right arm moving freely in the head hole as you struggled to pull the fabric over your head. Seungcheol had to stifle his laughter as he watched your fight with the article of clothing. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” you confessed. 

“Do you want some help?”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

“Okay. Here, let me help you,” he said, closing the gap between you two. For the first time in all your years of friendship, Seungcheol had never been so close to you in such an… intimate manner. He pulled the fabric up revealing your bare back; chills ran down his spine and he suddenly felt awkward. Adjusting the shirt so your head and your arms went through the proper openings, he pulled the shirt down quickly. “There.” Why was his face so warm? 

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“Sure.” Moving quickly, he untucked the comforter from under the mattress and sat down on the side of your bed, tapping the spot for you to lay down. You gave way to gravity and fell with a soft thud, your head barely missing the pillow. It took a bit of rearranging, but Seungcheol was able to get you to lay properly; when he was satisfied with his work, he covered your body with the blanket, tucking you in. 

With your eyes closed and your breathing quiet, you looked so peaceful like this. Seungcheol tucked a stray hair behind your ear. He had done a lot of reflecting this past year, and as much as he wished he had gained some kind of clarity, instead all he got was a rollercoaster of emotions. He spiraled into a blackhole of ‘what-ifs,’ wondering if things would have been different now if he had just confessed to you before Yanan did, or if he had listened to you that day you asked him if he was sure about his marriage. 

“I hate you,” you muttered. The three little words pierced his chest, but he knew that he at least deserved that much. He hated himself, too.  

“I know,” he whispered under his breath. 

“I… was supposed to… quit… you…” Even in your unconscious state, you stumbled over your words as they fell clumsily from your mouth. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, not expecting a response.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Okay, then I’ll leave.”

“No,” you blurted, grabbing onto the back of his shirt. “Stay.”

Your eyes were still closed, but your eyebrows were furrowed, lips pouting again.

“You said I wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“Don’t go.”

The wall you had built around your heart suddenly came crumbling down, and this was the first show of vulnerability he had seen from you in a long time. Hearing the cracks in your voice, Seungcheol relived that sadness he felt that day you told him ‘goodbye.’ It was a painful memory, and he never wanted to believe you meant it, but your actions said otherwise. 

But here you were, laying so quietly in front of him, calmer than that night, your grip on him pretty strong for someone who was inebriated and half-asleep. You weren’t sure what possessed you in that moment—perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the fear that if he walked out now, you might never see him again. 

Somehow, that one small movement made his breath hitch, his heart palpitating with such force that he was afraid you might hear it in the silence.

“I won’t go.”

And he didn’t. He stayed with you the entire night, using a spare pillow from the couch in the living room to lay on the floor. 

———

Last night, no, the entirety of this past week had felt like a fever dream. From Sookyung to…

Seungcheol.

You shot up in your bed, your head throbbing from the alcohol—you rubbed your eyes of the crust that had formed overnight, and it took a minute for your vision to clear up before you could see anything. Was he really here last night? Did he leave? Did you imagine that he slept there? There was a pillow from the living room and the spare blanket you had gotten for guests which you most certainly didn’t remember getting yourself, but nobody was there. 

Slowly but surely, you got out of bed and slid your feet into your plush slippers, your toes curling against the soft fabric. Opening the door to the rest of your apartment, it was dead silent, but the smell of grease was first to greet your senses. Upon closer inspection, the table had a bowl of rice and to its side, a plate of fried spam and scrambled eggs. There was even a small plate of kimchi, your favorite thing to eat after a heavy night of drinking. 

Your attention was caught by the slight snoring coming from the couch behind you; Seungcheol was laying on his side, drool coming from his slightly opened mouth. It was hard to stifle your laughter, but you didn’t want to wake him—with his insomnia, you wanted to make sure he got every second of sleep he could possibly get. 

What you really needed, though, was a cup of coffee. Figuring the large guy on your couch could use one, too, you perched onto your toes to grab your nicer mugs from the top shelf. These days, you had resorted to instant coffee mix in tiny paper cups you had stolen from work. Why you did this, you weren’t quite sure yourself. Maybe it was the novelty of drinking from the paper cups that reminded you of those late nights in the library and the vending machines, but something about it hit differently than fresh coffee.

Today, however, was a freshly brewed coffee kind of day. You scooped out two spoons of medium roast coffee and put it into the machine, the rumbling of the water and brewing surprising you despite how often you’d used it before. 

Deciding the breakfast he had (presumably) made for you wasn’t enough for two people, you took the bowl of rice and threw it back into the rice cooker to warm it up again. As much as you appreciated his efforts to cook, that’s the most credit he would get. Just one look at the dishes on the table and you could tell the spam was burnt and the scrambled eggs were too dry to be deemed edible. With a sorry heart, you watched the contents of the plate slide into the trash can. You’d have to remake breakfast, but you knew he’d thank you for it anyway. 

The aroma slowly began to fill your apartment, stimulating Seungcheol to wake up. 

“I made you breakfast,” he grunted, wiping his tired eyes. 

“I saw that, but this isn’t enough for the two of us, dummy.”

Hearing you call him that made him believe that things between you were almost… normal. “I wasn’t planning on eating.”

“Well, now you’re going to.” It was more of a threat than an offer, and who was he to say no? 

“What are you doing?”

“Frying the spam.”

“But I already made that…” his voice trailed off when he saw that the only thing left on the table was the kimchi.  

“Yeah, poorly. We can’t eat what you made.”

His signature pout came out in full force, his lips protruding from his face. 

The tension from last was almost nonexistent, as if you hadn’t gotten into a big fight and spent the past year not speaking to one another, as if you hadn’t told him you didn’t want to see him again. You stood in a silence that, once unfamiliar, was now more commonplace than you’d like, the only sounds in your apartment were the sizzling of oil on the pan as you threw on fresh eggs and spam. Unsure of what to do with himself, Seungcheol just loomed over you while you cooked the food—you kind of hated it because it felt like the times your mom would just stand there and watch you intently, like, what could she possibly want from you?

What could he possibly want from you?

“Okay,” you sighed, “breakfast is done.” With a swift turn of your wrist, everything came off the pan without difficulty onto the plate, the greasy smell stirring the appetite in your belly. Scooping two bowls of now warmed rice, you set them on a small tray with some side dishes your mother had left when she visited last weekend. 

You brought the food to the table, motioning for him to sit down, too. Like second nature, Seungcheol immediately grabbed a piece of spam and placed it in your bowl of rice. If you had told someone that the two of you hadn’t spoken or interacted in the last year, you were sure they wouldn’t believe you solely based on his actions. 

Yet, that was your reality: gut-wrenching heartbreak, cruel words, and a debilitating distance that you thought would solve your problems. The truth was that it didn’t. In some ways, it only made it worse. 

There are two sayings: “Out of sight, out of mind,” and “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

You, unfortunately, fell victim to the latter phrase. Though, perhaps “fonder” wasn’t the right word—a more accurate phrase would be, “Absence makes the heart wither away in pain and make you wish you could go back in time and completely re-do everything.” But that didn’t exactly fit on a craft store, cross-stitch pillow, did it? 

“Thanks,” Seungcheol mumbled, breaking the silence, “for cooking breakfast.”

You offered a quiet chuckle. “Re-cooking breakfast,” you added. “I should thank you for at least trying in the first place.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line, the skin in his cheek caving into that favorite dimple of yours. As you two continued to eat, silence prevailed and the tension remained thicker than the grease in your pan. Suddenly, Seungcheol put his chopsticks down with more force than he intended, which caught your attention mid-bite. 

“Can we talk?”

“Like, right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, yeah,” you said, swallowing your mouthful. You could feel your throat constrict, almost as if you were choking.

Seungcheol looked at the bookshelf behind you, his eyes glazing over as he contemplated how to start the conversation. “So…”

“So…”

“Sookyung and I…we—”

“She told me.”

“Right.” Seungcheol cleared his throat. “She, um, she told me she stopped by.”

“Really?” 

They still kept in touch? 

“Yeah. So, you know that she’s…”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed the nape of his neck anxiously as he stared at his bowl of rice that had been untouched this entire time. Where was he even going with this? On the drive over here, he had planned everything he was going to say to you, how he was sorry, how he thought that maybe he was in love with you—still in love with you— and how maybe, just maybe, you could give him another chance. 

Yet, now that he was here and you were there in front of him, all of those thoughts went straight out the window. 

If the silence wasn’t going to kill you, surely your anxiety would. Your knees bounced underneath the table while you clutched the excess fabric of your pants. 

“How are you doing?” you asked. Although you had spent the last year trying to let go of your relationship with Cheol, you had often typed the words into an empty message without hitting send. 

Just four words. It was only four words, but they held so much weight. Seungcheol had spent countless nights wanting to ask you the same thing, typing the question out before deleting it for the nth time because he didn’t have the courage to hit ‘Send.’  

 He didn’t think that he would hear the words from you, however, his brain working overtime to develop a response. “I…I don’t know.” 

You nodded. It wasn’t like you could exactly explain how you were feeling, how much of a toll this whole thing had taken on you even though you had moved far away from him in hopes that maybe you could finally move on with your life. 

Silence filled your apartment once again, and rather than eating breakfast as you had intended to do, both of you just sat there like two kids who had gotten in trouble and were waiting for the principal to come in. Only this time, there wasn’t a third person to come tell you everything that you did wrong. 

That would require that you own up to your actions, and that Seungcheol owned up to his—did either of you have it in you to do that? 

And even if you did, would that really change anything? Or make a difference? The rational part of you knew that it wouldn’t change much. Despite Sookyung’s truth bomb and Seungcheol’s sudden appearance, you couldn’t help but wonder where to go from here. 

You had spent the past year walking this path alone, and though it was lonely at times, you really only had yourself to rely on, resolute in your decision to finally move on from your first and only love, Choi Seungcheol. So, what difference was this supposed to make? 

Did he think you would accept him with open arms? That now that he was a “free man,” the two of you could just run off into the sunset, hand in hand and live happily ever?

No. It wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy.

You fiddled with the food in front of you, your chopsticks breaking apart the scrambled eggs as your brain struggled to think of a response. 

Instead, it was Cheol who broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his chin tucked into his neck as he stared at the balled up fists in his lap. All you could do was stare at the crown of his head, his long, black locks giving way to gravity. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Cheol…” you managed to say. 

“I don’t know what I thought would happen. I just… I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t,” you agreed. 

“Can I be honest though?”

“Of course.”

“It was nice seeing you.”

Suddenly, tears welled up in the corner of your eyes and it felt like someone was trying to squeeze them out of your body as you fought back that urge to let them fall. All you could give him instead was a reluctant smile. 

“I missed you,” he said once more. It was like he was intent on making you hurt, but not in the way he had in the past. This time, his words hit a sore spot, and you wanted to be angry that those words were said in remorse, rather than in longing. But then again, you were also to blame for the position you two were in. 

“Me too,” you told him, and you can see his shoulders relax a bit when the words hit his ears.

Relief.

He had been worried that you had hated him and would scream and yell at him to get lost, and sure, you had already told him the night prior that you hated him, but you were also inebriated. There was a good chance you didn’t even remember what you had told him, so to hear you say that sober, it was reassuring. 

Those were the last words you two said before finishing your breakfast, the food now cold once again. When you were done, you went to grab his dish, but Seungcheol was faster, swooping your plate and taking it to the sink. Without a word, he just turned on the water and put on the gloves. You could have stopped him, insisted that he was the guest and that you could do the dishes, but  you let him have this moment. Instead, you cleaned up the counter behind him, wiping the areas where the grease from the spam had splattered everywhere.

“Give me that,” he said, gesturing to the pan. You obliged, your hands touching when he grabbed the handle from you. It wasn’t some electrifying moment that opened your third eye, but it did make you realize how much you truly missed him. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary—after all, it wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t touched before, but yeah, you had to admit that this kind of domestic behavior was something you missed for sure. 

You stopped and leaned against the counter, your eyes trained on the movement of his back muscles as he washed the dishes vigorously. Maybe in another life, in an alternate timeline, you two could have been standing in your kitchen as lovers instead of… whatever the fuck you were now. In another life, he would finally be yours. 

“I, um,” you started, your voice faltering a bit, “I have to go get some groceries.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Do you… want to come with me?” It was a bold move, asking him to spend even more time with you considering the tension of the previous conversation, but hey, gotta shoot your shot, right?

“Yeah,” he said with a smile, though you couldn’t see it with his back turned towards you. “Just let me finish this one dish.”

“No rush,” you reassured him. “I’m just going to go get changed real quick.”

When you look at yourself in the mirror, you realize just how truly horrible you look. Wow, you really looked like this and Seungcheol didn’t say anything? Your hair was in complete disarray, unkempt and unbrushed, the strings of your hoodie completely misaligned. You pulled the thick fabric over and off your head, tossing it onto your bed. Another glance in the mirror and you realized that the t-shirt you were wearing was… his. 

Did he choose this one? Did he remember that it used to belong to him?

Even after all this time, you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of the comfiest shirt you owned, even if it belonged to the man who had broken your heart. Though, admittedly, you hadn’t worn the shirt in over a year for a certain reason. Instead, it just sat in the drawer, getting buried by new t-shirts you had bought and shoved in there. 

You had stolen his t-shirt, but he had stolen your heart. 

A knock on the door startled you, causing you to instinctively cover your chest despite you being fully clothed. 

“I’m done with the dishes,” Cheol spoke loudly from the other side. 

“Okay! Just give me a couple minutes to change,” you replied. 

“Alright, I’ll just chill on the couch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Frantically, you grabbed a pair of jeans and threw on a thick hoodie, not wanting to make him wait any longer. You emerged from your room to find him leaning back on your couch, scrolling on his phone. 

When he heard the door click, he looked up at you. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

The grocery store wasn’t any more than a twenty minute walk away from your house, but it had been a while since your last trip and you needed more than you could physically carry in two hands. You’d have to drive.

Seungcheol followed you to your car, entering through the passenger side. He settled nicely into the suede of your little sedan that was much older than his luxurious BMW. But it was comfortable, and it smelled like you, he noted. 

He missed this. 

The drive was quiet, the only sound that could be heard was of the tires on the road. Both of you were on edge, sensitive to the other’s every movement. Fortunately, the drive was short and you arrived at the grocery store which was a bit of a ghost town in the late morning. Before you could say or do anything, Seungcheol was already making his way to the carts, pulling it out and leaning against it as you entered the store. There was something quite sobering about the way the market smelled—maybe it was the way the dead fish and meat mixed with the vegetables in the frigid air, or the perpetual pine-forest scent of whatever cleaner they used to wipe the tiles constantly. 

Seungcheol followed you like a puppy as you grabbed this and that off the shelves, muttering to yourself as you checked the items off your list on your phone. Neither of you really spoke to the other unless it was to ask him to grab that bag of chips from the bottom, no, not that one, yeah, no, yeah, that one. 

Even when you were checking out, he waited for you patiently, packing the items into plastic bags and putting them in the cart which he later pushed out to your car. There, he unloaded everything and returned the cart diligently. You supposed he was probably used to this because it was something he did often with Sookyung, but still, it made your heart flutter. But you were also overwhelmed by the burden of guilt in your chest. Part of you was happy to be here, with your best friend (if you could still call him that), but another part of you felt responsible for what happened to him and his wife. It was you. You were the reason why they got divorced, and even though that tiny part of you wanted this to happen, you still felt horrible. 

You hated the idea of being the source of anyone’s misery, and now you were the cause of not just one, but two people’s unhappiness. This wasn’t what you wanted. This wasn’t how you pictured your life to be all those years ago when you were just a naive university student madly in love with Choi Seungcheol. 

The thought weighed heavy in your mind as you drove back home in silence. Again. Once upon a time ago, you would have been laughing and listening to your favorite songs when he was by your side, but the solemn mood now was incredibly foreign to the point that you could barely recognize the man beside you. 

When “I’m just going to put these away real quick,” you told him. He nodded and sat down on your couch, but instead of scrolling on your phone, he just sat there, taking in your new apartment. 

It was so different than the one you had lived in previously—this one was a lot more grown up, the furniture much more elevated and minimalistic in style compared to the posters of your favorite boy band you used to have in your childhood bedroom, or the photobooth strips that hung on your college apartment, the one you had lived in until you moved here. This one felt… empty—sad—like you had never fully moved in and made it your home.

Seungcheol wondered if you felt that way, if you felt like this was your home, if you were comfortable living here, if you were…

Happy. 

“Coffee?” you offered. Despite already having had coffee earlier this morning, you weren’t quite sure what to do now that it was just the two of you alone in your apartment. There wasn’t much more you could do to stall between the inevitable conversation Seungcheol had come for, but you’d do your best to try. Kicking him out seemed too harsh, but fear crept into your heart when your mind began to wander, curious as to what he had to say to you. 

“Please, I’ll help you,” he said, standing up abruptly and nearly stumbling over your coffee table. You had to stifle your laughter, his actions reminding you of the goofball you loved and missed, the one you would spend hours messing around with instead of studying for your university entrance exams. “You didn’t see that,” he blurted out. His ears turned red, but he was also relieved to see you smile for the first time since he had been here. 

He wished he could make you smile even more. 

“It’s okay, it’ll take me only a couple seconds.”

“Are you sure?”

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure, Cheol. But thank you.” That was the only thing you were sure of, that you could make coffee without his help. But everything else that followed? Not so much.

When you were finished, you brought the mugs to the table and sat down in the chair adjacent to him. 

“Thank you,” he said. The once foreign silence had now become something familiar, but the awkward tension remained ever the same. Was this who you were to each other now? No longer friends, but not quite distant strangers either?

“Do you ever wish you could start over?”

You brought the mug to your lips, only to pause upon hearing his question. 

“That… maybe we could start over?” He had kept walking, but when he realized you weren’t by his side, he paused, too. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied.

Of course, you knew exactly what he meant. The real answer was: yes, you had thought about this countless times, and it was the reason for your sleeplessness over many nights, but you weren’t about to just confess that to him now.

Upon hearing your response, Seungcheol’s face fell. What was he doing here anyway? Well, no matter what happened, he had a lot to get off his chest, and if he didn’t do it now, he’d never get it over with. “You know. Us.”

“Yeah,” you finally relented. “I do.”

“Where did we go wrong?” he asked, his question ending with a chuckle. 

“I fell in love with you,” you replied, your eyes fixed on the cup of coffee in your hands. 

“How long?”

“Since as long as I could remember.” There was a long pause, and you wished the Earth could swallow you whole. “I shouldn’t have,” you confessed. “I should have stopped loving you the moment you started dating Sookyung.”

“Why?”

“Because then maybe we wouldn’t be here right now. You would still be with Sookyung and I’d—”

“I don’t love her.”

The words were colder than the winter air that swept against your cheeks. Seungcheol looked at you, as if he was looking for an answer. 

“I mean, I did love her, but not like I loved you.”

Loved. Past tense.

“Then why?”

“You were with Yanan.” 

“But we broke up.” Somehow, the coffee no longer seemed appetizing, the smell only nauseating you. You stood up and walked back to the kitchen where you dumped it into the sink. 

“I thought… maybe we weren’t meant to be.”

“But you and Sookyung were?” You looked up, but Seungcheol was no longer on the couch—instead, he had followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the threshold as he curiously watched you wash the cup.

He shrugged. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Instead, he gave you an answer: “I thought we were.”

Silence, and then a beat. 

“You were my best friend, you know?”

Yeah, you knew perfectly well.

“And best friends don’t fall in love.”

No, they don’t.

“And I think I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” 

“The consequences.”

“Of?”

“Telling you.” Seungcheol wished you would look at him, but he understood that you were nervous—he was, too. 

You knew exactly what he meant, and now you understood maybe why you were in the position you were in.

“We’re cowards,” you laughed, pausing your mindless dishwashing.

“Yeah, we are, aren’t we?” he let out a hearty chuckle. Maybe, instead of dating Sookyung to cope with your relationship with Yanan, he should have fought harder for you. But he was young and stupid. You both were. 

Perhaps neither of you would be in this impossible situation had you just been honest with one another in the first place, regardless of the consequences.

“Hey,” he said. He was now standing right next to you, grabbing the mug from your hands and placing it in the sink carefully. Goosebumps formed on your arm when you felt his skin on yours, his rough hands taking hold of your own. “Let’s start over, okay?” Squeezing your hand with intent, he leaned forward to look you in the eyes, his face serious and without a shred of doubt. “Let’s… let’s start over and do this the right way.”

You froze. This was the moment you had been waiting for who knows how long, but why did that voice inside you keep telling you no? They say the eyes are the window to the soul, yet when Seungcheol looked into yours, he had a hard time reading what could possibly be running through your head right now. 

“Come on,” he said, closing the gap between you. You didn’t know it was possible to be even closer than you already were, but he managed to do it. “What do you say?”

You had spent countless days and nights dreaming of the day you would be this close to Seungcheol, your hands in his, his face so close you could feel his breath ghosting over your lips. You were so close, in fact, that one miniscule movement and you would finally know what it feels like to feel his lips, to taste them.

You stepped back, pulling your hands out of his grip, the only thing your head could do was shake back and forth. “No…” you whispered. “I-I can’t.”

His eyebrows furrow at your words as if he doesn’t quite process what he’s hearing. “What?”

“We can’t, Cheol.”

“What do you mean we can’t?” Concern grew on his face as he tried to close the space between you, but you only stepped back in reflex. 

“We just can’t.”

“You’re not making sense.” You could sense the annoyance interlaced in his voice, but you understood why. “Explain it to me so I can understand why.”

“It’s too late. For you. For me. The damage has been done. We can’t go back in time, we can’t undo the years of longing and pining, and we can’t just… start over.”

“Why not?”

“You still don’t understand?”

“No. I don’t.”

“We hurt each other. And not just each other, but others, too. Look at Sookyung—”

And that’s when Seungcheol understood exactly what you were saying. Or, rather, what you were trying to convince him of, if not yourself. 

“Stop—”

“You married her and you were supposed to be together forever, but then you guys got divorced because of me—” you continued to ramble on, your eyes staring out at the sunlight sparkling on the surface of the water, completely unaware that Seungcheol was approaching you again. 

“Stop!” Seungcheol’s loud voice echoed in your quiet apartment. “When are you going to stop making up excuses and blaming others for your own fears?”

The blood in your veins began to boil at his accusations. “I’m not blaming anyone.”

“You are. You said we were cowards. But you? You still are.”

“I am not,” you contested, raising your voice to match his. 

“Then why? Why won’t you stop being afraid and take a chance?” He paused. Realizing he had been shouting, he lowered his voice and continued, “With me?”

You could no longer face him, turning around to hide the tears that threaten to fall. The only sound in your apartment now was the ticking of your clock and your and Seungcheol’s heavy breathing. 

You jumped when you felt his hands wrap around your arms and turn you around to face him. “Look at me.”

“Cheol, please—”

“I said, look at me.” When your gaze met his, his fingers loosened their grip and his face softened. “I’m going to say something, but I need you to let me finish, okay?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“We can start over—”

“Seungcheol—”

“Listen, please. We’ve spent our whole lives lying to each other—to ourselves—but now? Now, we can finally be honest. We can be honest about how we feel and we can start over.”

Your heart palpitated in your chest, and despite the embarrassment that grew within you, you never once took your eyes off of him. 

“I’ll start,” he continued. “I can’t lie to you, or myself, anymore. I love you. I am in love with you.” You could have swore your heart shattered upon hearing those words come from his lips. “You are the woman I’ve always wanted to be with, ever since we were young. I loved you then, and I love you now. And I’ll love you until the end of our days. This past year, you’ve been the only one I could think about—from the moment I wake up to the moment I close my eyes—no, even after I fall asleep, you’re the only person on my mind. Do you know how often I wanted to call you? To ask you how you were? If you were eating well? If maybe you had found someone who was deserving of your love? Do you know how worried I was on the drive over, asking myself if this was the right thing to do?” He took a deep breath before continuing, “But now that you’re here in front of me, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life, which is how much I love you, and how I’d regret it every day of my life if I didn’t tell you how I feel. 

“I know you’re scared, because honestly, I’m just as scared as you are. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if I’m going to find out, I want to do it with you. Together. So, please, don’t be afraid and trust me.”

By now, tears were streaming down your cheeks at full force, the words you wanted to stay lodged in your throat. Your eyes fell to the ground. 

“The only thing that will get me to leave,” Seungcheol said, his voice the quietest it had been all day, “is if you tell me you don’t love me.”

You bit your lip which only made the dread in his heart worse. Perhaps he really had made a mistake. 

“Seungcheol, I don’t know what to say.”

“Just tell me. I can handle it.” He was lying, though, of course. Because if you really told him that you didn’t love him, he felt as if his whole world might crumble. 

Your brain went into overdrive trying to process his confession, let alone find the right words to formulate a response. Seungcheol could hear his heartbeat in his own ears, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. 

“You’re right,” you whisper. “I’m scared. I’m scared because I don’t want to get hurt. Again. Or worse, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me,” he assured you.

“You know that’s not true.” Your eyes shot up from the ground and you were met with his own, tears pooling in the corners. “I’ve hurt you, Cheol. You have every reason to hate me. I ended your marriage—”

“What happened to Sookyung and I was entirely our own fault, and no one else’s. I don’t want you to ever blame yourself for that, okay?”

You shook your head. “What if I hurt you again?”

“Would you? Intentionally?”

“No, but—”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. We’ve come way too far now to go back, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start over. Fresh. Clean page. Just you and me, the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Cheol—”

“Do you trust me?”

“Seungcheol, I—”

“Do you trust me?” His hands wrapped around your cheeks as he stared into your eyes with a longing look. 

“I love you.” The words fall from your mouth with much more ease than anticipated, and it’s not long before your foreheads are pressed together. 

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” you breathed out the words again and looked him straight in the eyes before continuing, “Cheol.” 

Without another second to wait, he lifted your chin and pressed his lips against yours, so soft and gentle as to not break you any further than he already had. He could feel your tears on his cheeks, but when he pulled away to check on you, you only grasped onto his face and pulled him back. 

Every worry, every fear that used to plague your thoughts melted away with his touch. For the first time in a really long time, everything felt right, clicking into place as simple as that. 

If you could kiss him for the rest of your life, you absolutely would have, but the whole day had taken its toll on you and the crying didn’t seem to help either. Instead, Seungcheol simply wiped your tears and the two of you fell asleep on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around each other as if to say, I will never let you go. Not again. Not this time. Never.

When you woke up, your body was sore from having been in that position for a few hours. You adjusted your head to take a good look at your best friend who was still asleep, breathing softly as the golden glow of the setting sun seeped through your windows, illuminating the edges of his face. 

Finally, he could sleep. But he was awoken by the faint grumbling of your stomach. He opened one eye and looked curiously at you, causing you to shove your face into his chest from embarrassment. There was a resounding vibration when he laughed. “Someone’s hungry,” he chuckled, his voice deep and raspy but sounding like music to your ears.

“Stop,” you whined. There was something strange about being so close, so intimate, with him. It brought you back to your high school days, that feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you’d see him walk the halls. If only you had known your true feelings then…

But what mattered was the fact that you were here, with him, right now. What mattered was that now you had been able to be honest with him, with yourself, and when you were in his arms like this, everything finally felt right in the world. 

Sure, it would be strange getting used to calling him not only your best friend, but your boyfriend—yet, it was a welcome change, one you knew you would adjust to in no time. 

“Should we eat?” Seungcheol asked.

“Mm, I’m not that hungry,” you lied, but your stomach betrayed you, grumbling again. 

“I thought we agreed not to lie to each other anymore,” he teased.

“Fine, we should eat. But I just want ten more minutes.”

“To do what?”

“To stay like this,” you told him, tightening your grip around his waist as you close your eyes and bury your face in his body. With a gentle kiss on the top of your head, Seungcheol happily obliged and the two of you remained on that couch for longer than ten minutes. 

You were finally his tonight. And you would be tomorrow. And the day after. 

Forever and always. 

[aphroditesmoon]

hello love! first of all, don't forget to take care of yourself and take your time! good luck! secondly, if you're not too busy, can you please write some hcs about xavier x reader where they are newlyweds? i can't help but think this concept is so cute.. and we all need some fluff, i guess. i absolutely can see them being still young and not planning to start a real family yet but they've got married a month or 2 ago bc why not, we want to spend eternity together anyway. and they're sooo excited about it? like wow we're actually married?? Mr. and Mrs. Thorpe?? ik modern married life (esp newlyweds) may be not so different from just relationship but it feels much more domestic for me? more warm and even loving? you can disagree with me and it's absolutely ok! i love your headcanons so much ahh it hurts! they're absolutely fascinating! thank you for everything you do! and thank u in advance! good luck! take care!

newlyweds xavier thorpe x reader hcs

a/n: I love this idea! and thank you for your kind kind words<3

warnings: reader is part fae, absent parent, slight nsfw

°°°

- it was instant connection with you and xavier, since he laid eyes on you, your perfume clouds his sense and your beauty haunts his dreams and canvases.

- but the rush of the relationship had scared you at first.

- you two ended up in a big argument a few months in your relationships where you admit to him you worries about moving too fast etc and being scared you'd ruin it or he'd change his mind about you.

- since then, he decided to make extra efforts in reassuring you, and you two start spending many times together doing bonding activities and getting to know eachother's boundaries.

- as much as he seems confident in your relationship, he's deeply insecure about you finding a true mate that's not him.

- until one day, he notices you doing a specific courting ritual for him.

- it was then he realized that you were doing it to mate him in the faerie tradition, showing how serious you were about him.

- 4 months into the relationship, he's already bought you a ring, you two were basically already a married couple, every event he wasn't allowed to be around you in, his eyes will wander for yours, every moment you spend together are either deeply affectionate or in peaceful comfortable silence.

- it was during the holidays, his father was barely home, when he was, xavier tried bringing you up, telling him how he thinks you're the one.

- the older man only waved him off, reusing the lines "if that's what you want.", frustrating him.

- that night, without you warming his bed or holding him through his sleep, he realizes how truly lonely he feels. and the only cure for the loneliness was you.

- he suprised you at you family's house, your mother was absolutely whipped by Xavier.

- already referring him as 'my son'.

- seeing how easy he was accepted into the tight knit family, he takes the risks and proposes to you during dinner.

- you were in awe, tears formed in your eyes and you almost forgot there were other people in room.

- when you only stared at the diamond ring in shock, your sister had answered for you screaming "if you don't want him I do!" earnings a shushing from your mother.

-you jumped off your seat and basically leaped on him, crying yes repeatedly, and your mother cried that night, reminiscing her old love with your dead father, she was glad you had found the mate you deserved.

- he had brought a house near your's, using his trust fund (he's a nepo baby sorry y'all).

- when his father found out he was getting married, he guilt tripped xavier into agreeing to work under him with his company.

- Xavier agrees, telling himself that he'd work his way up to independence sooner or later, but for now he didn't want to promise you an unsure future.

- so you marry 6 months after graduating Nevermore, thankfully already now having a house and stable job.

- you work in a troubled children school as a counselor a few months in your marriage.

- and as much as you both learned to enjoy your jobs, he was upset that you two hadn't had a honeymoon yet, he secretly plans a vacation to bora bora while you're blissfully unaware.

- even if you two were busy with work, you'll always make time for eachother, always having dinner every night together unless he has a late shift (which he'd tell you first).

- sunday movie nights binge watching the hobbit and doing laundry together, an activity you both despise but work together to finish.

- when your 1 year anniversary finally arrives, he suprised you by coming home early and setting up a nice romantic chinese takeaway date, it may sounds cheap to other, but he knows your love for chinese fried rice runs deep.

- you pointed ears twitch at the sight of a small box he gifts you, and you couldn't he happier to find two plane tickets to bora bora in it.

- you two take a month off and spend it swimming in oceans and trying out new food.

- while you busy yourselves admiring the culture, he impatiently waits for night to come so he could admire you in private.

- it wasn't unusual for newlyweds to go at it like rabbits.

- but even after a whole year of being together, his desire for you was never sated.

- cooking dinner together too often ends up with you bent on the kitchen counter and moans and whimpers filling the kitchen while the spaghetti overcooks.

- it was not rare for movie nights to be spent with him in between your thighs instead of actually watching the lord of the rings.

- you also start showering together once you two got married, and on days one of you were too tired, you two would lay in a tub together while slowly washing eachother's hair and body. it was an intimate act both of you could appreciate without it having to be anything sexual.

- baby talks only comes in years later in the marriage, both of you settling with a fat tabby cat, not ready for an actual child.

- you grumpy orange cat was the light of your lives despite it's constant habit of breaking Xavier's stuff and accidentally spilling his art paints ( Mr fluffykins is no longer allowed in his art shed btw)

- you almost feel stupid for doubting your relationship a while ago, for now, you can't even begin to imagine ever loving anyone else.

[natashatraceromanoff]

baby time | mickey “fanboy” garcia

Description: you and mickey have been trying for a baby until one day he comes home to a surprise.

Warnings: implied smut??

Pairing: mickey “fanboy” garcia x fem reader

Author's Note: i'm usually not a fan of pregnancies in stories?? idk why but this is based off of a dream that i had a few weeks ago and thought it was really funny bc i could see this happen lmaooo + ALSO this is the first fic i’m posting pls be nice 🥲

You and Mickey had been married for almost a few years now, and it was the best thing ever. Living the married life with him was so much more fun than you had expected. He had always been very thoughtful and romantic from the beginning of your relationship, and you loved that about him. But as a husband? He was ten times more affectionate and attentive. Mickey would go the whole nine yards, doing all the domestic things with you, taking you out on fun dates, and bringing you home flowers for no reason. You were the luckiest girl alive.

Mickey was already an amazing husband, and sometimes you think to yourself, "what more if he was a dad?". There was no uncertainty in the fact that you and Mickey would eventually have a family, but it wasn't something that the two of you wanted right away either. When you first got married, you were immediately bombarded with questions like "when is the baby coming?" or "how many kids are you having?". It was so embarrassing, and you felt so much pressure the more you heard those questions. But Mickey assured you that he would only be ready whenever you were, and that we wasn't in a rush to start.

But you thought it was about time that you did. So you and Mickey have been trying for a while now. The two of you have tried so many different positions, and have done it in almost every corner of your shared home together. It was really fun, and sometimes you even forget that you were even trying for a baby.

It had been a long day at work for Mickey. He loved his job, there was no doubt in that. But he loved coming home to you a whole lot more. Especially now that he had some important tasks to attend to with you.

Right after being dismissed by Maverick, Mickey immediately ran to his car and drove off so fast away from the base. It had been like that for the past couple of weeks, not even bothering to say goodbye to the Dagger Squad all because he was in a rush to come home and fuck his pretty wife.

Mickey parks his car in front of the driveway of your shared home and strides to the porch with so much excitement. He opens the door not very subtly and kicks off his shoes. Making his presence known, he yells from the entrance hallway, "Honey, I’m home! It's baby time!"

Mickey doesn't even bother waiting for a response because as soon as he enters the living room, three pairs of eyes staring right at him.

Your parents.

Shitshitshitshitshitshit.

The room fell silent as Mickey stood there awkwardly, fidgeting with the zipper of his flight suit. He realizes he's making the situation a whole lot worse by standing there like an idiot. He straightens his stance and opens his mouth to apologize. Before he could even utter a word, you stood up to greet him with a kiss on his lips.

"Mickey! You're home early." you say.

"Y-yeah. Kinda. Mav had to be somewhere so he let us go..." Mickey quietly said.

“Okay, that’s good. I’m glad you’re home.” you say as you kiss him one more time on the cheek.

Your parents remained seated on the couch as the two of you stood there. While your mother awkwardly smiled, your father was blinking wildly at your husband.

“Well, Mickey, it’s nice to see you again. How is work?” your mother inquired.

“It’s really good, Mrs. Y/L/N. I- uh, I didn’t know you’d be visiting today.”

“Oh we were just in the area and thought we’d say hello.”

Before the silence could get anymore awkward, your father stood up and huffed in what seemed like utter disbelief.

“Well, it seems like we should get going then. We wouldn’t want to keep you from your ‘baby time’.”

“Dad!”

“Mr. Y/L/N, I’m really sorry— that was very inappropriate of me and I-“

“Nonsense, Mickey! It’s about time you had children of your own now anyway.” Your mother said.

After saying farewell to Mickey and you, your parents eventually left. You stifled a laugh as soon as you heard the door close and turned to face your embarrassed husband.

“Amor, come on now that’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry, baby. Your timing is just impeccable, that’s all.”

Mickey pouted at your teasing, which only caused you to plant kisses all over his face. Eventually, he gave in. Wrapping his strong arms around your waist, he kisses you softly on the lips. It starts off slow, and lovingly, until you felt Mickey’s warm hands slide under your shirt. You pull away just a little bit to give your husband a knowing look.

“So... baby time?”