#it will take us six hours to get to the first wedding. and eleven hours to get to the next wedding. with exactly zero days of downtime

[manias-wordcount]

I'm surprised i haven't seen this more often, but I just love the idea of Loid Forger being in love with someone else while still married to Yor. I mean the whole idea that he didn't have a choice in the matter, and then falling for someone else after he and Yor "get together" has so much room for angsty sexual tension and i've always wanted to see how it could be handled.

Tell No One (Loid Forger x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘂𝗵𝗵𝗵𝗵 𝗶 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛 𝗶 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗟𝗠𝗔𝗢 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Yor likes your cakes. Anya likes your cookies. He likes your smile. It gives him the perfect excuse to visit your bakery twice a week. 

  “Hi, Mr. Forger! Welcome back! The usual?”

  It gives him the perfect excuse to visit you.

  “Hi there!” He greets with a nod and a practiced smile. He’s gotten good at playing Loid Forger. But for him, it’s just another disguise in a long list of faces and names he has taken on for himself. And you? You’re just another person he uses to secure his role on the stage. Something that keeps him from breaking the so-carefully crafted illusion. So he tries not to dwell on how your own customer service smile turns shy, and your eyes turn away from his at the sight of his a little too genuine smile. He tries not to dwell on it all. Instead, he tries to think about work. About Anya. About Yor. “How’s the shop? Anything happens since the last time I was here?”

  He tries to think about anyone but you.

  But it’s hard- it’s hard because there you go letting out a soft giggle as a memory comes bubbling up from the back of your mind. A pretty little sound he could listen to for hours. But when you start back to talking- talking about the crazy run order that you just barely finished this morning for a couple whose baker got sick the night before the wedding- he finds that he could listen to this voice of yours every single day of his life if he had the chance. And it’s not a new discovery. It’s not a new thought. The same way the little spark he swears he feels when your fingers brush against his as you take his money- always exact change- from his hands is not a new occurrence. He’ll tell no one, but he knows. He knows it’s not new. It’s never new.

  So why does every time he comes to see you feel like the first time he fell for you?

  He tried not to think of you. He tries not to think of you. But the day he stumbled on your bakery tucked in a random hole in the wall and down a couple of stairs on a pathway that was just barely out of his way home from the hospital, he was hooked. The second he opened the doors to a homely little shop and smelt that delicious smell of freshly baked goods, he was interested. But from the moment he saw you, he was gone. 

  Twilight had developed a weakness. For the first since before he could remember. And that weakness just so happened to solidify Loid Forger. And that weakness just so happened to be you. 

  So his excuse was peanut butter cookies for Anya. They were the perfect tool to help her study after all, and she gobbled them up like a madwoman whenever she had the chance. And when he found out that you did seasonal cheesecakes, his excuse included picking up a slice of something sweet for Yor too. Because a husband that come back with all kinds of sweets and treats for his daughter and his wife was a good husband. And that’s what Loid tries to be. A good husband.

  But on visit eleven, you had shyly told him that you wear your grandmother’s wedding ring around your finger because when you’re twenty-six and unmarried, the government tends to not like you. He tries to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. That nobody would ever accuse someone as sweet as you of anything that would get you on the government’s radar. And immediately, he watched you grow flustered at his compliments. You even let him taste a traditional dessert from Hugaria you just learned how to bake the week prior as a thank you.

  But all he could think about as your hands held up the pastry for him to take in his own, his mind could only think about that wedding ring sitting on your finger. And how a real husband would give you more protection than just a dainty old ring. How he would give you more protection. More love. More of anything you ever wanted. More of anything you ever asked for. 

  Loid would take care of you. But Twilight? Twilight would marry you. Twilight would love you. And the fact that it’s so evident to him that he can no longer deny means that the most dangerous person in all of Ostania always manages to have a smile on your face flour lost somewhere in his hair. You make him as weak as you do strong. And that’s dangerous. That puts the whole mission in jeopardy. That puts you in jeopardy. And you don’t even realize it. You don’t.

  So he tries not to think about you. He swears on his life, he tries, he tries, he tries. He tries not to when he’s working at the hospital or out on the field saving lives. He tries not to when he’s passing by your shop in a rush to make it home. He tries to when he’s at home with his pretend family playing the perfect father and husband and man all wrapped up into one. He tries so hard not to.

  But yet, he finds himself coming back more often than he should. And he’ll tell everyone that it’s because you sell those peanut butter cookies that Anya loves. He’ll tell everyone that it’s because he loves the way Yor’s face lights up when he presents her with one of your delicious cheesecakes. And he’ll tell no one that he visits to catch a glimpse of the delicate curves of your body as you bend down to pluck an item from the display case. He’ll tell no one that he visits to memorize every feature of your face and picture it as a memory of what he’s fighting for.

  And he’ll tell no one that he visits to hear your voice and imagine all the sounds you would make when he finally had the chance to take care of you like a real man should. He’ll tell no one. Absolutely no one.

  Just like you’ll tell no one of all the times he’s pulled you to the back of the bakery and kissed you.

[vivalas-vega]

top gun: maverick masterlist

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each fic will feature a symbol representing what they include, or eventually will include, but individual parts on this list will not -- you are responsible for your own media consumption so please read the warnings on each post.

key: ✩ author’s favorite ♢ angst ♡ fluff �� m/f smut ⚢ f/f smut

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

multi-part series:

✩ new perspectives ♢ ♡ ⚤ (ongoing) 

You and Jake Seresin have been inseparable since age ten... somewhere along the way you fell in love and when college and flight school rolls around you have to make the hardest decision of your life.

prologue / one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

new perspectives universe one shots + drabbles

match ♡

Jake surprises you at your match day ceremony.

j&j wedding moodboard

easier ♢ ♡ (ongoing)

You secure your first confirmed air-to-air kill on your first mission as team leader... only no one told you how difficult it would be to process and the only person who can understand what you're going through steps in to help.

one / two 

move on ♢ (ongoing)

The love of your life vanishes in the middle of the night leaving you reeling and leaning on the only person you can still trust.

one / two / three

✩ real friends ♢ ♡ (on hiatus)

One day your competitive working relationship with Jake Seresin takes a hit and results in a pact between the two of you that you never saw coming.

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

shot through the heart ♡ / and you’re to blame ♡ ⚤ / you give love a bad name (mini-series)

Pushed together planning your best friends wedding your forced to notice someone you'd previously overlooked.

one-shots/requests:

✩ flygirl ♡ ⚤ (one-shot)

The Dagger Squad, and more specifically Jake Seresin, decide it's time their favorite bartender experience life in a Super Hornet.

✩ late ♢ ♡

A delayed period forces you to have a conversation you've been putting off with your boyfriend.

mistletoe ♡

Jake comes home to find you amidst a winter wonderland and can't help but fall more in love with you and your spirit.

✩ sunshine ♢ ♡

You and Jake are recalled to Top Gun... only problem? Jake has no idea you're in the Navy.

before he cheats ♡ (request)

While drinking away your breakup at the bar, Jake finds out about your extracurricular activities and steps in.

worry ♢ ♡ (request)

Stressed and overworked, your husband steps in to remind you to take care of yourself before taking care of others.

birdstrike ♢ ♡ (request)

Jake grapples with the thought of losing you after an accident in the air leaves him rattled.

family dinner ♢ ♡ (request)

You and Jake attend dinner with your parents, a diligent homemaker and retired Navy hotshot, and when your parents have their own ideas about your trajectory in life, Jake steps in to stand up for you.

into you ♢ ♡ (request)

Forced to watch the man you want and your best friend getting closer, you push them both away without bothering to clarify the situation.

NATASHA 'PHOENIX' TRACE

boyfriend ⚢ (one-shot)

Phoenix steps in to give you the attention you deserve when your boyfriend spends the night neglecting you.

at your pace ♢ ♡ (request)

Your relationship with Natasha has remained a secret as long as you've been in North Island, until her backseater puts the pieces together and gives her the nudge she needs to come out to her team.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

firecracker ♢ ♡ (on hiatus)

When you and your childhood best friend are recalled for the same high stakes mission you have to navigate ever-changing relationships along with keeping your familial name a secret.

one / two

✩ longshot ♢ ♡ ⚤

A series of unfortunate events lead you back to your hometown and straight to the professor that's been on your mind ever since you graduated.

one

unexpected ♡ ⚤

An educational trip to the waterfront for Fleet Weeks ends in a handsome naval aviator asking you on a date.

one

DAGGER SQUAD

make the friendship bracelets ♡ (one-shot)

On a whim you decide to surprise the squad with a token of your appreciation.

[butterflyintochains]

Of All They Survey

A sequel of sorts to 'The Power Couple Contest'. When last we left our four chaotic hockey men in that story, the team were first in the Metro division by a country mile, and fourth in the league overall. Partly because of four unhinged nutcases with a point to prove. So, naturally, they've made the playoffs! Having beaten Carolina in five in the first round, and gotten through Washington in the second.

We pick up the story in game six of the Eastern Conference Final. And, we go forward from there.

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

Today has been the longest day in the team's lives so far, and it's only eleven in the morning. They so wish they were at home so they could hang out at PPG Paints all day. But, they're in Toronto, sitting on a 3-2 series lead in the Eastern Conference Final, and desperate to just get on with this last game. Currently, the core are just back from a gym session, and are watching some footage in a media room at the practice rink they're using. Kris is taking notes like a college student, so is Sid. Erik watches his last shift with Marcus again to see how they pulled off an assist on Bunting's goal. ''Can we see that clip of Drew's goal too, Sid?'' Geno asks.

Sid nods, and scans through to that play. They take notes on that, spotting a breakdown in the communication between Beavillier and Acciari that led the Leafs to score the game winner. ''Ah, there it is, wondered how we let that last goal by us.'' Erik says.

Kris asks, turning his wedding ring on his finger. ''When do we start tonight?''

Sid checks the schedule on his phone. ''Half past six, six hours to go until we hit the ice.''

At loose ends as to what to do for the rest of the day, they grab lunch, and keep on strategising together with Sully and Quinn. Then, it's an hour of ice time with the boys. That takes them until three thirty. Sully orders his boys back to the hotel to sleep for the game, and no one refuses their coach. Kris and Erik lay out their suits, and collapse into bed together. ''You think we'll do this, sweetheart?'' Erik asks as they nod off.

Kris kisses his husband, a promise in it. ''I do, I'll get you your cup, darling, I promise.''

Erik chuckles, and lightly corrects his other half, the eternal martyr that he is. ''We will get us our cup, Kris.''

That evening, they're bussed down to Scotiabank, and suit up while chatting as a family. Sid has instated a 'no silence in the room' policy, it's screwed them over far too often. So, if there's no chatter, someone has to play music. If there's no music, everyone is to talk to each other - even if it's about something silly. Sid and Geno talk to Rusty about their pets. Kris and Erik discuss the latest Arsenal news. Completely ignoring the Prince of Wales trophy in the building somewhere.

The first period goes swimmingly by all measures. Ned performing his usual net magic to withstand the storm. Marner nets a late goal, but Rusty and Bunting keep them ahead 2-1 going into first intermission. Kris is acutely aware of their last Conference final, he can't not be, but, one look to Erik is all he needs to calm down. The second period also goes smoothly, the core taking over for this stage, Geno assisting Erik for a goal to put them up 3-1. Then, minutes later, Sid assists Kris for 4-1. Tavares notches a desperate breakaway to try and salvage the game.

In the third, Knies opens proceedings, and there's a ten minute goalless stint. But, a late one from Lars sends them into the cup final. Carolina, Washington, now Toronto - gone with their 5-3 win. The trophy is brought out, and presented to the core. Sid, as usual, lifts it. It's worked in the past, so why not now? Sid kisses Geno as soon as they're back in the room. Erik, into his first ever cup final, wraps his arms around Kris, shaking like a leaf. Kris presses his lips to Erik's neck, reminding himself that Erik isn't going anywhere. ''Well done, boys, but, the work has only started. We head back home tonight, then, get ready for either Colorado or Vancouver.'' Sully says.

The game puck goes into the board, Ned gets the helmet. And, after press, it's off to the airport.

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

They're getting a Battle of Nova Scotia for the cup final. No doubt the media are salivating over this one, Probably the most demanded cup final since the old Colorado/Detroit days. But, the team aren't concerned with that, they're concerned with not having home ice advantage to open the series today, having had it all through this miracle run. To just about everyone's surprise, Erik is the calmest one of the core, newly granted an A on his jersey for the playoffs. He and Kris come in for training in Denver, hand in hand, deep in conversation about something to do with Le Mans. Something about how Ferrari bungled a strategy call. Sid and Geno share a look, whatever keeps them calm. ''How's it going, captain?'' Kris asks, putting his ring on its chain for training. ''Good, happy to be over the hump a bit.''

Erik asks his brother-in-law. ''Excited to face Nate?''

Sid shrugs, some part of him is, the other is just going to get on with it. ''It's just another game, Karl. That's what I'm telling myself.''

Lars asks. ''What's in the team notes for this game tonight?'' Sully says to his troops. ''I've heard that Bednar's starting their secondary goalie. So, I'm putting in Jars for tonight. The five of you are our powerplay and overtime unit as usual.''

With that, they head out for training. Working hard to get this first game under their belts tonight. They all know that if they don't, Colorado will run away with this series. Quinn puts them through endurance drills, they'll have to outskate the Avs as well as outscore them. ''Well, that sucked.'' Geno says, leaning on the boards.

Sid is catching his breath, resting his head on Geno's shoulder. ''Yeah, that sucked a lot.''

Kris downs some gatorade, and says. ''Now you know how Erik and I feel.''

Erik nods, and tosses his stick aside for a second. ''We've run those types of drills during summers since 2013 or 14.''

The game does indeed go their way that night. Not having Home Ice doesn't seem to affect them too much. Tristan performs daylight robbery on both Rantanen and Makar in the second period while they're leading 2-1. And, Rusty nets a pair of goals in the third to settle the game at 4-1 going into game two. ''Hope Flower saw that tonight.'' Tristan says as they board the bus back to their hotel.

Sid assures him, sitting himself down next to Geno. ''He did, he just texted me, actually: 'tell Jars I'm impressed with him.' He was watching.''

Tristan says, putting his head back. ''Thanks, Flower!'' Erik sits next to Kris, and says. ''Three more of those, please.''

Kris nods, and laughs, knowing full well the climb that awaits them. ''One game at a time, darling.'' The bus shuts up at that, Kris looks around, confused as hell. ''What'd I say this time?'' Erik laughs, and says to his husband. ''Well, sweetheart, I'd say the english nicknames are no longer secret.''

Acciari says. ''Oh, wow, that's cute. You two have petnames in english too?''

Erik says. ''Yeah, and now we've opened ourselves up to even more teasing!''

Ned proposes, in a way only a goalie can. ''Ooh, distraction tactic! Use them on ice!''

Kris, ever one for some scheming, especially with the recent Power Couple Contest, raises an eyebrow. ''Y'know, Ned? Good idea.'' The bus finally arrives back at the hotel. One down, three to go.

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

The series is sadly tied on return to Pittsburgh. The team have a couple of days off to recover from the jetlag of flying from the mountains to the east. As usual, the core get together at Sid and Geno's place for breakfast the morning of their return. That 3-2 overtime loss sucked, but, it's not over until it's over. No need to press the panic button yet. ''So... the petnames, huh?'' Geno asks, smirking over his coffee mug.

Erik rolls his eyes, they've not heard the end of that since they got on the plane last night. ''Geno... we told you that's between us.'' Sid flashes them a shit eating grin. ''No, tell us, come on.''

Kris says, resigned to having to tell his brothers yet another story they'll get all mushy over. ''The big ones, that's all you're getting, just the big ones we use all the time. Cool?'' Sid and Geno nod. Kris carries on. ''I think I started calling Erik 'mon amour' just after we became official in 2012. We were just on the phone, and it... slipped out.''

Erik smiles softly. ''As for me calling Kris 'hjartat mitt'... he got all insecure over himself when he saw me with Victor at some event, and that was my way of getting through to him.''

Sid and Geno have glossy eyes, Sid says, a big smile on his face. ''That's really sweet. And, like, seeing how happy you are to use them, and hear them, it's just... nice, y'know?'' Erik and Kris share a soft look, for all the roughness on ice, they're always soft for each other. ''Yeah, it is.'' Erik says.

Geno adds. ''How have you two been handling this run? New territory, right?''

Kris says, helping Sid tidy the table up. ''I think we're doing okay, just living one game at a time.''

After their breakfast, they head down to the arena. The glass cabinet where the team's five cups sit pride of place stare the captain and his three alternates in the face. Erik notices the melancholic look in Kris' eyes as he looks up at the 2017 cup, and silently holds his husband's hand. He'd give anything to rewrite that horrible night, kick his own ass and demand the old him apologise right away. But, they're here now, right where they belong. Kris takes a deep breath, and kisses his husband's cheek. ''Got lost for a second, amour.'' He says.

Erik smiles, and squeezes his hand. ''I know, and it's okay, hjartat.''

They go to a media room, and get on with some game study. Reviewing the first two games, taking notes, and discussing strategies for the home games ahead of them. Sid has is calculated in his head that they'll be in Colorado if this goes to seven. So, they must be ready for that. It's worked three times in the past, they've never won a cup at home.

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

Game three is at home, PPG Paints is full to the brim with home fans all clad in black and gold. The core arrive together, as they always do for home games, and walk in together. For most teams, this united front would be mostly for the optics, not in this city. Geno talks to Erik about a story from his days with Metallurg as they walk in. Sid and Kris talk about a big game they played against each other in their QMJHL days. Val D'Or beat Rimouski 6-5 in a massive overtime period. Once out of their suits, they split up into their stalls in the dressing room. They suit up to some music, and Sully gives the read before they head out.

Sid stares down against Nate on face off, Nate looks somewhat intimidated by the sea of black his team are surrounded by. Kris locks eyes with Makar. The kid's good, really good. Nate and Cale are good together, but they'll never be Sid and Kris. Sid wins the faceoff, and it's off to the races. Midway through the first period, Acciari gets them on the board 1-0, with a massive breakway goal. Just a couple of minutes later, Bunting gets a sneaky Michigan goal. ''Good job, boys! More of those!'' Sully shouts from behind the bench.

The second period is mostly Colorado. With Nate and Devon Toews getting two goals to level the game at 2-2 going into the second intermission. ''Alright, this game is very winnable, we stick together, stay calm, and take it one shift at a time. No panic buttons anymore, boys.'' Sully says.

The third period is crazy, Geno opening scoring right off the jump, Rantanen fighting back to tie it 3-3. ''Crosby unit, you're all up!'' The top unit take to the ice, and leap on the offensive right away. Drew putting them back ahead 4-3. However, late in the third, Nate scores a one-timer on the penalty kill to take them to overtime again. The overtime unit get to work right away. Lars gets the puck, and feeds it to Erik, who scans the play once, and says. ''Sweetheart, give them hell!''

Kris takes the puck, ignoring the urge to kiss Erik, he takes the shot, and ends the game 5-4. Then, he pulls his husband in for a kiss in front of the whole arena, who go absolutely crazy for it. ''Hey, get a room!'' Lehkonen chirps them. Not to be outdone in his own arena, Kris fires back. ''We have one, you're in it!''

After the game, a journalist asks Sid. ''Did Kris and Erik plan that kiss beforehand?''

Sid laughs, his best friend and brother-in-law are schemers, but not like that. ''No, I'd say that was very spur of the moment. Can't say I'm all that surprised, though, with how they are backstage.''

Erik shouts over from his media scrum. ''You love us, Croz!'' Sid shouts back. ''Yes, I do.''

Another journalist laughs, and asks. ''Are they down bad for each other?''

Sid nods, grinning ear to ear. ''Oh, yeah. You'd never know it's been over a decade since they got together, they're like teenagers.''

Once back in street clothes, dinner is served to the team at the arena. A 2-1 series lead, almost there, but it's not over until it's over. Sid, of all people, knows fine well what lies ahead of them with this series. A decade of friendship with Nate have taught him well what to expect. The core debrief while they eat. ''What did Lehky say to you two?'' Rusty asks Kris.

Kris chuckles. ''He told us to: 'get a room'. I told him: 'we have one, and you're in it'.'' The team burst out laughing.

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

Game four is another win for the Penguins, a simpler 3-1 home win with amazing goals from Rusty, Lars, and Jesse. They fly out this evening to Denver for what could be the cup winning game.The media are still ruminating over the ''Game Three Kiss'' - as it has been labelled. But, the defence power couple have mostly gotten on with it. But, during a final home skate before they fly out, Beauvillier says to them. ''Hey, why not do that for the next game too? Y'know, kiss to put the Avs off their game.''

Geno remarks. ''It worked then, might work now.'' Erik laughs, the contest still fresh in the team psyche, only now it's been inflicted upon their opposition. ''They'll be expecting it, Tito, we might bust out the nicknames, though.''

Bunting says, sounding excited. ''Oh, please do! I feel like we've heard one percent of the repertoire, and I'm fascinated now you say nicknames, plural.''

Kris smiles, and rolls his eyes. ''Thank you for opening Pandora's Box, mon tresor.''

Erik leans over to kiss his cheek. ''No problem, skatten mitt.'' They tidy up, and hit the showers. Then, it's into suits for the flight to the game that might just end all of this. It's almost too good to be true, one more game, and it's over. But, one thing at a time.

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

Game five is a bit of a clusterfuck, a dramatic 4-3 overtime loss to the Avalanche sends them home to Pittsburgh angry. No one is more pissed about this than Kris is. He's wanted to win a cup with the love of his life since he can remember. He promised Erik that they'd win this thing this year. And, the fucking Avalanche just had to ruin everything, didn't they? It takes Erik putting his hands on his shoulders as they get to their stalls at Cranberry, to bring him out of his head. ''Kris, sweetheart, talk to me. What's going on?''

Kris takes a deep, but ragged breath. ''Game five, Erik. I just want to get you a cup so much, and then, they had to fuck it all up for us. I'm just... pissed off.''

Erik nods, he knows Kris better than Kris knows himself. They even discussed this on their first night back home this season. So, he goes to the tactic he employs to calm Kris down. ''Okay, Kris, what facts do we have right now?''

Kris says, taking another deep breath. ''We're married. We're both Penguins. We're 3-2 up in the final. We're in this together, we love each other. And, we got here together.'' Erik nods, pressing a kiss to Kris' lips. ''Good, feel better now?'' Kris nods, leaning his forehead on Erik's. ''Jag alskar dig, alskad mitt.'' He says.

Erik says. ''Je t'aime aussi, mon coeur.''

The rest flood in, surprised at the sight of Erik calming Kris down from something. They don't pry, instead just get suited up for action. They could very well win the cup tomorrow evening, and nobody is going to be caught slacking off now.

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

Game six is a close affair, and a physical one at that. Geno getting the team's only goal late in the game, not that it salvages it any, they're forced into a game seven with a 2-1 loss. They've got three days off between game six and seven, Sully has them on rest orders for the first day off. Sid and Geno use the day to bake and relax with Sam and Maverick. Kris and Erik use it to re-watch some stuff from their four happy All Star Games, Tampa doesn't count. ''Forgot how good you looked that weekend.'' Erik says as they watch the 2016 All Star Game.

Kris runs his fingers through Erik's hair, finally at that length he loves it at. ''I prefer us with long hair, like in 2019.'' Erik laughs, and adjusts his head on Kris' shoulder. ''Me too.''

At the Crosby-Malkin house, Sid leaves a sheet of cookies to cool on the counter while Geno packs them up for the final flight to Denver. Sam is curled up on the couch, fast asleep in the sun. Maverick curled up with her. Geno comes down with their stuff. ''Done, could not find your Nova Scotia tie, found it in the sock drawer somehow?'' Sid kisses his husband. ''Great. We'll have loads of cookies for the flight too.''

They could so easily disobey Sully's rest orders, heaven knows the four of them are off their collective rockers, especially with a massive game seven looming large over their heads. But, Nate's boys flew home last night, they'll be tired too. Best to rest up for the long term. Over at the Letang-Karlsson house, they pack up for the flight, Buddha helping them wherever he can. Kris has promised Erik another dog at some point, hopefully a husky. ''Alright, darling, looks like we're set to go.''

Erik asks, an eyebrow raised. ''Did you remember your meds, sweetheart?''

Kris chuckles, and kisses his cheek. ''I remembered my meds, darling, yes.'' Someday, the boys will stop worrying about him, but he guesses that is a further flung time than he estimated.

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

The big day finally comes, the entire team arrive at the enemy arena wearing matching suits in black, white, and gold. An idea Kris and Erik proposed at the start of the series. If Sid is honest with himself, which is always, the idea was a stroke of genius from his brother and brother-in-law. This is cemented when they see some of the Avalanche guys arrive all in different suit colours. One team are in harmony, one are not. They get in, change and eat, and suit up. Sully gives the speech, the cup in this building somewhere going totally ignored. ''Alright boys, just like always, we go in together, we stay calm, we go in patient. This is just another game, ignore the noise.''

Mario gives the read. ''Up front we've got: O'Connor, Crosby, and Rust - Sid and the kids!'' The room applaud. ''On the blueline: Letang and Grzelyck.'' PO took over from Gravy as the third pair leader, the room cheers for them. ''In net: Jarry!''

The team file out to the corridor. Sid says in a quiet moment with the core. ''Wanna score a goal each tonight, boys?''

Erik nods, looking determined. ''Sounds great to me, captain.'' Geno smirks, and says. ''Da, davai.''

Kris takes a deep breath, focused on winning this for his husband. ''Let's fucking do this.''

They take to the ice for the game, just another game, and here they stand, all united against thousands tonight. The Penguins against the world, just as it used to be. Five minutes in, Nate takes a dumb penalty, and Sully deploys the Veterans Unit. Sid gets the puck, and shouts. ''Geno!'' Geno receives the pass, and fires a wrist shot past Georgiev's ear to put them up 1-0. ''Spasibo, Sid.'' Geno says, a beaming smile on his face.

That proves to be the only goal of the first period, the defence ticking like a clock and Jarry performing saves Flower would be very proud of. They get some music on during intermission.

The second is a bit more eventful. At six minutes in, Kris reads a play quickly, and says. ''Darling! Do it!'' Erik takes his pass, and hammers it home as soon as he gets it, 2-0 with goals from half the core. In the dying minutes of the period, Sid makes off with the puck from a scrum in the corner, and, catching Georgiev unawares, scores what could be the one to end this whole thing 3-0, with Kris' goal still to come.

Sully gives a very short address to the team during second intermission. ''Good job so far, boys, let's keep this going, the finish line is in sight, we keep blocking the noise out, they're not liking this, but that's okay.'' He turns to the captain. ''Sid, anything to add?''

Sid nods, and just says. ''Kris, mon frere, it's your turn to score next.'' Kris just smiles, that knot of doubt still lingering in his chest, slowly untying itself. Erik squeezes his husband's hand.

They get back to work, the crowd growing angrier with them as the period ticks down to its last half. Geno and Erik watch the final minutes from the bench, helpless while their favourite Canadians are on the ice. In a momentary lapse of focus, Lehkonen passes the puck to Kris. ''Davai, Legenda!'' Geno shouts.

Erik calls to his husband, in french, in the language he learned all those years ago for him and him alone. ''Allez, mon coeur! Allez!'' Kris is patient, skating end to end with the puck, waiting out Georgiev, and scoring a gorgeous goal. They're up 4-0 with a minute and a half left. For which Sully deploys the Veterans Unit. Sid between Geno and Lars, Kris and Erik side by side. The quintet patiently wait the last minute and a half out, before the bench goes empty.

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

The team mob each other, first in the Metro division thanks to four living legends creating a reality show for their teammates. Now, cup champions yet again, with just four remaining from the last time they were in this position. Sid pulls Geno down for a kiss in full view of Nate. Fighting through the crowd, Kris finds Erik, and wraps his arms around him. Erik cries into his husband's shoulder. Sixteen seasons, and his name will finally go on that cup. ''We did it, mon amour.'' Kris says. Erik kisses him. ''I love you, Kris.''

Kris kisses him back, and runs his fingers through Erik's damp hair. ''I love you too, Erik.''

The core celebrate with their team, before the two final trophies are brought out. Sid, to the surprise of absolutely nobody, is awarded the Conn Smythe. Then, the Stanley Cup. Which goes to Erik after the captain's lap, Kris is in tears at the sight of the love of his life with the Stanley Cup. ''Hjartat, you next!'' Erik passes it off to Kris with a kiss for his lap of the rink. After which Kris says. ''Geno, I'm coming in hot!'' He passes the cup up to Geno.

Once all of the quartet take their laps, they sit and watch the rest of their team take their laps. Sid and Geno are pulled up for a photo with the cup. Kris fishes his chain out, and removes it so he can put his wedding ring back on. Erik does the same. ''Kris, Erik - your turn.'' The photographer says.

They pose with the cup in their arms, their golden wedding rings proudly on display against the silver. Flashing triumphant smiles down the camera, over a decade, and they've finally won their cup together.

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

They spend a couple of days resting off the game and their hangovers from the dressing room party. But, they have to go home at some point. They're up late in the morning, pack up for their evening flight, and get on the plane to Pittsburgh. The cup with them on the plane, safely kept in the seat next to Sully. Sid happily rests his head on Geno's shoulder, both glowing with the fourth cup win. Kris, radiant but tired, engages Lars in conversation about Denmark. Erik is also glowing, and texting Victor about the win. Kris' phone buzzes, he answers it on speaker. ''Bonjour, mon chum!'' The whole plane shuts up, Flower is calling them from wherever he is.

Flower says. ''Felicitations, mes amis!''

Sid says from his seat. ''Thank you, Flower!'' Flower asks Erik, the first time cup winner in the family. ''How does it feel, Karl?''

Erik beams from his seat next to Kris. ''Only finding Kris felt better, Flower, I've not stopped smiling for two days.''

Flower says, laughing. ''I can imagine. I'll let you guys sleep, I'm coming into town soon, so I'll see you all soon.'' Kris smiles, clearly missing his favourite goalie. ''You're staying with us, Erik and I will get the guest room ready for you.''

Flower says. ''Got it, I'll see you soon, boys!'' They hang up, and finally get to sleep. Geno has a feeling they're not going to be sleeping much for the next week or so. It's going to be chaos as soon as they get home, so, he wants to savour the flight home as much as he can.

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

Flower arrives in town the day before the parade. Retirement looking very good on him. He may not have retired with this team, or with this cup. But, he's etched into the fabric of this team. He immediately embraces his three brothers, and gives Erik a massive hug as well. Then, he says to the two goalies. ''You two are absolutely incredible, you know that, right?''

Tristan says. ''All because of your example, Flower.''

Flower asks the core. ''Thinking of joining me in retirement now?'' Sid shakes his head. ''Not even a little bit, no. We're nowhere near done yet. Our contracts are still active, so we'll play them out.''

Someone shouts over to the quartet. ''Captain and Alternates, the head car awaits!''

The core pile into the back of the lead truck, the cup and Conn Smythe sitting between them. Once everyone is situated, they roll out into the streets, lined in their home fans, decked out in team colours. The team have never won a cup at home, maybe that's for the best, no feeling beats coming home for the parade. Instead of sitting around waiting for it to happen. ''We did it, Sid.'' Geno says. Sid nods, that typical doe-eyed look in his face. ''We did it, G.''

Kris turns to Erik. ''Well, here we are at last, alskad mitt.'' Erik nods, and dries his eyes again. ''Here we are, mon coeur.''

Sid asks Erik. ''Was it everything you wanted it to be?'' Erik nods, fixing his hair again. ''Everything and more. When do we get our rings?''

Geno says. ''Start of next season.''

They proudly and triumphantly present all three trophies to their city. The speeches are made, and their jerseys are handed over to go to Toronto. After eight years of worrying whether they'd get back here, here they are again. The rulers of all they survey once again.

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

Summer is filled with parties, team events across two whole continents, and each of their cup days. A blur of celebrations gives way to much earned rest. The replica cups sit in the Letang-Karlsson house with the Masterton and Norrises as soon as they're home in Pittsburgh. They get their rings on their first visit to Toronto before camp begins. The person in charge of the rings hands them out by number. Erik opens his box first, and says to his husband. ''God, it's huge.''

Kris laughs, trying his on his right ring finger, his left is taken by a more important ring. ''Yeah, that never changes. Try it on.'' Erik slides it onto his right middle finger. ''Heavy too, wow.''

Kris asks, only to be cheeky. ''Which do you prefer? That ring, or your wedding ring?''

Erik cocks an eyebrow, a glint of something in his dark eyes. ''Sweetheart, my wedding ring, of course. This is the pride of my career, you are the pride of my life.''

Kris melts again, how the hell has one person softened him so much over the last fourteen years? ''You're the pride of my life too, darling.'' Acciari asks, coming back from calling someone. ''Are the defencemen being mushy again?''

Bunting corrects him. ''Still, Cookie, are they being mushy still? And, yes, they are.''

Sid jokingly steps in, he knows how that first cup rush feels all too well, doesn't matter whether you're two forwards in their early twenties, or two defencemen in their late thirties. ''I think they've earned it, Noel.''

Nobody argues with their captain on that, too happy to bask in their victory, too excited for the upcoming season. No one thought they'd win that final, every single journalist had them taken out back and shot, how wrong they were. Who put any hope in all of the core scoring in game seven? Carolina couldn't stop them, Washington and Toronto all fell by the wayside, and they conquered Colorado in enemy territory. They've also got 29 to raise up soon, so that's going to be fun.

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

Okay! I think 'Rival Captains In Love' might have been usurped at last! This might just be my magnum opus for my beloved defencemen so far. Didn't think I'd ever dethrone 'Rival Captains' but, here I am. Little note: I fiddled around with some trades, and kept PO on the team instead of Graves. That was for continuity purposes with 'The Power Couple Contest' - to which this is a sequel! The most self-indulgent thing I've written yet, but that's okay.

Enjoy!

Also, here's my series summary for those into data as I am. Colour coded as it is in my notebook (which literally carried this fic)

Pittsburgh Penguins vs Colorado Avalanche SCF

Game - Home Ice - Score - Winner

One - Colorado - 4-1 - PP Two - Colorado - 3-2(ot) - CA Three - Pittsburgh - 5-4(ot) - PP Four - Pittsburgh - 3-1 - PP Five - Colorado - 4-3(ot) - CA Six - Pittsburgh - 2-1 - CA Seven - Colorado - 4-0 - PP

[gingerteaonthetardis]

hahahaaaaa i can't wait to go to two weddings in the course of three days, both of which involve out-of-state travel (to two different states, with eleven hours of driving between them), one of which i am singing at and one of which i am photographing, like. i cannot waaaaait to be doing So Much All At Once. thinking about it doesn't make me want to vom at all

[naoyaslut]

The Hills Ch. 9

NSFW MDNI +18 ONLY!

pairings: ran haitani x !femreader +18 hanma shuji x !femreader+18 kenji oh x !femreader+18

warnings: smut, creampie, noncon elements, noncongroping, profanity, lmk if I missed anything.

wordcount: 7,780

t@glist: @alice-smutthoughts , @dumbbitchuni-versity, @renxnana, @pulchritxde , @baggymcqueen @tojitsukaisen 

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirst-teen Fourteen Fifteen

The next week of cohabitation with Ran was... interesting to say the least.  If you had already thought Ran was a physical person, you had learned over that short time that he was indeed very physical.  In the short time you had spent with him, you had never seen this much of him ever.  Normally, he’d disappear for weeks on end and pop up out of the blue in a very smooth... might I add, attempt to woe you.   

He had a few of your things moved from your apartment into his penthouse to make it feel at least a little bit more at home.  Made the extra effort to pamper you with unnecessary gifts, in which you’d only smile and place the item back into the bag it came in. 

You nonchalantly wondered if he was even going to “work”.  Sometimes you’d wake in the middle of the night to an empty bed.  But by the time the sun was rising, he was freshly showered and you were wrapped in those long limbs of his.  Your assumption was that he’d go do... whatever it was he needed to do during those sleeping hours and just return back home in the morning. 

Although you never questioned it, you could tell that he was tired and the exhaustion was beginning to take its toll on him.  He’d beg for you to cuddle with him on the couch and end up falling asleep trapping you underneath him more often than not. 

After a week of not being in the office, you were starting to get a little stir crazy.  Although you didn’t have any patients scheduled on the books, you missed conversing with Yoko at the front desk.  Your first day back to work after your extended sick leave was in a few days, which meant you only had a few more days of being home with Ran in the penthouse. 

Ran had managed another meeting with the Chief of Police tonight, and surprisingly it was a quiet dinner in a high-end restaurant in downtown Roppongi.  The restaurant was moderately busy, but Ran the back of the establishment had been reserved for Keishin, his wife, and their guests (you and Ran).   

You watched both Ran and Keishin from afar, as the pair stood near a gigantic glass window seemingly observing the bright scenery of the town lights below.  You couldn’t hear a thing but Keishin was very entertained by whatever Ran had been telling him.   

Keishin’s wife, an older woman sat across from you at the table making small talk the entire time.  She was polite and showed interest in the specifics about your career that you had shared with her. 

“How long have you and Mr. Haitani been married?” She asked, bright blue eyes sparkling with a bit of mirth underneath them. 

That question always threw you for a loop when someone asked, you were always startled the embarrassment getting the better of you.  You weren’t Ran’s wife; at best you were just a disposable accessory that he used for his own convenience. 

Forcing a soft smile, you tore your eyes away from the pair of men before giving Sivir all of the attention you could muster.  You were a bit flustered you’d at mid, giving Ran a sly glance before you provided her with an answer. 

“Not very long.” Your index and thumb toyed with the platinum band on your ring finger that Ran had given to you the night before.  He told you it was just for appearances, the wedding band with a diamond too stone that you felt was too big for your finger. 

Sivir smiled and laughed almost giddily as she reached forward to grasp your hand in her own.  She eyed the engagement ring and her eyebrows perked up; she was clearly amused. 

“Still in that honeymoon stage, look at that rock.  He must really be in love with you, already pulling out all of the expensive stops to keep you around.”  Releasing your hand, she glanced over towards her husband before she turned back to you. “It would have taken me months of begging to get him to buy me anything like that.” 

“I told him I didn’t need anything extravagant, the only reason I’m wearing it is that he didn’t tell me how much he spent on it.” You sighed a bit, your eyes drifting back towards Ran who was walking back towards the table with Keishin.  “He has very expensive tastes.” 

Sivir laughed under her breath as Keishin took a seat beside her giving you a gentle glance before smiling at his wife.  “Ladies, sorry about the delay.” 

Ran took his seat next to you and kissed you at the curve of your jaw, one of his free hands resting right at the hem of your dress along your thigh.  The warmth from his skin caused you to jump in surprise and the fleeting touches from his fingertips made you squirm. 

Sivir laughed again at the display picking up her Champaign to drink from the glass. 

“Definitely still in the honeymoon phase, he absolutely adores you y/n.”  

“I sure do Mrs. Himura; family is very important to me.”  Ran threw his arm around your waist to tug you closer kissing your shoulder blade. 

“Any children in the future? Why you could even start your own practice and work from home even.”  Sivir seemed so genuinely interested in your and Ran’s fake marriage it was astonishing how impressionable Ran could be at times.  

Stumbling over your words you made eye contact with Ran only to be greeted by a rather sly smile as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand. Your face heated at his seemingly sultry gaze causing you to turn away, embarrassed as Ran answered Sivir’s questions. 

“Whenever she’s ready, I wouldn’t mind having three or four little ones running around.  But we’re still young.” 

Sivir’s giddy laughter was almost infectious.  She looked at her husband clearly touched by Ran’s interactions with you. 

You on the other hand were becoming embarrassed at the sudden change in direction this conversation was going. 

“Honey, aren’t they just lovely? Ah to be young again.” 

Keishin chuckled to himself, offering Sivir his hand as he leaned across the table. 

“They remind me of us when we were young, that’s for sure.” 

“Excuse me for a moment.” Pushing your chair away from the table, you stood up but not without Ran capturing your hand in his. 

He quirked a brow as he held your gaze, with you smiling in return.  Leaning towards him you spoke low enough so that only he could hear. 

“Restroom, I’ll be right back.” You left him with a peck on the cheek adjusting the hem of the little black dress you were wearing back over your thighs.  Ran picked out the dress, which in your opinion was a little too sexy for just a dinner with Mr. Himura but you never complained.  

Leaving the blocked-off area, you stepped into the main venue of the restaurant being sure not to trip over your stilettos on the way to the bathroom.  The traffic had died down and there were fewer people in the vicinity than there were a few hours ago.  

Before you were able to push open the bathroom door, you were bum-rushed by someone grabbing hold of your arm before shoving you inside.  Startled, you stumbled into the bathroom turning to lock eyes with a familiar set of brown.   

Kenji, was there standing before you, blocking your only way out of the bathroom.  He was still holding onto you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull yourself out of his grasp.  For a long while, you didn’t say anything, you didn’t question him nor did you move.   

That festering anger that you had over a week ago was slowly building back up, but you just weren’t sure how to react.  You didn’t realize it right away, but you were scared.  You were absolutely terrified as you stared at this man who was so familiar, yet a stranger at the same time. 

“Still didn’t want to take my advice huh?” he finally spoke, releasing some of the tension he had on your arm.  “You’re still running around with that motherfucker; I’ve already warned you that he was bad news.” 

You could feel your throat closing up at his words.  Of all the people he wanted to point a finger at, he was still lying to you so casually, without any trace of guilt, and for years at that.  He was an actual narcissist. You recoiled almost immediately pulling your arm free from his hold to slap him with an open palm.   

You hit him hard enough that it caused his head to jerk off to the left a stinging vibration left in place on your palm as you cradled it in your hand to soothe the numbing ache.  He was surprised, to say the least, his lip had split open from the impact a small drop of blood beginning to form along his mouth.   

He stared at you; eyes wide stunned for a moment before attempting to reach for you calmly.  His movements had you moving away quick enough as you tucked yourself in between one of the sinks and the marble wall beside you. 

“Don’t touch me.” you spat, bringing a finger to wipe at the mascara under your eyes.  You were nearly on the verge of tears, simply because you couldn't ‘t let him know that you knew the details of your brother’s case.  You wanted to question him, scream at him, and curse him to hell because of the simple fact that he was hiding something from you. 

“What has gotten into you, y/n?” he questioned again, wiping at the corner of his lip with the back of his hand.  He stepped towards you again and your hand went up in the empty space between the two of you as if it would keep him away. 

“If you come near me, I swear I’ll scream.”  

Kenji clicked his tongue, his disappointment clear as day on his face.  He was eyeing the diamond ring on your finger, his face becoming expressionless fingers scratching at his scalp in frustration. 

“Brainwashed that quick huh?” His expression was soft now, but unreadable.  You needed to get away from him. 

“Leave me alone, Kenji.” Quickly, you fled past him and out of the bathroom door without him stopping you.  You made your way back to where Ran and his new friends were, tugging Ran aside as you attempted to keep your flaring temper under control.   

“Can we... wrap this up?” Guiding a hand nervously through your hair, you avoided his gaze deciding to focus on the hand that you had been holding since you had returned.  “I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

It was obvious that you were upset, but Ran couldn’t have fathomed why, until he took his eyes off of you for a moment to see Kenji entering the area.  He should have known, by the look on Kenji’s face he looked a tad distraught.  Upon further observation, he could see his swollen lip and a glare that could kill pointed in his direction. 

Ran’s widening grin in Kenji’s direction only seemed to agitate the man further. Cradling your cheek with a free hand, he kissed you softly on the lips before agreeing. 

“Alright baby, we can go.”  

Ran left you briefly to talk to Keishin and then the two of you were on your way out of the blocked-out section.  Ran with a hand resting on your lower back and guided you past Kenji without so much as a second glance.  

Kenji was seething.  His teeth clenched tightly as he watched the two of you leave the area with Ran giving him a rather carefree smile and a wink on his way out.   

“Oh, nice to see you again.  Hope you’re still doing good work down at the precinct.”  Ran uttered the words in passing, not bothering to stop because of how uncomfortable you were.   

Once the two of you were outside of the restaurant Ran took off his suit jacket and placed it over your shoulders before lacing an arm about your shoulders to tuck you into his side.   

“You okay?  He didn’t touch you, did he?”  Ran inquired pulling out his burner to dial his driver’s number.  “Looks like you got him good at least.” 

You shook your head wrapping an arm around his waist as the two of you stood in front of the restaurant.   

“No... I just got nervous.” swallowing your nerves you glanced up at him before continuing.  “I wanted to ask about my brother, but I couldn’t get the words out.” 

“Don’t worry, you’ll have your answers soon.”  Ran reassured you, kissing you on the forehead.  “Just hang in there for me a little while longer.” 

A familiar black town car pulled up in front of the restaurant causing Ran to hang up his burner phone and stow it away.  Once it stopped Ran opened up the rear door waiting for you to step inside.   

You did as he wanted sitting quietly in the middle of the rear seat and glanced up noticing that you weren’t the only one in the car.  Ran stepped in after you, closing the door behind him, and pulled you into his lap wrapping you in his arms.   

You were caught off guard by the extra personnel, your eyes darting over each individual before the car was back to driving on the road.  

A blonde, eyes black as night sat on the other side of the car pinning you with a blank stare.  His gaze was unnerving, so much that it caused you to shrink further into Ran’s lap.   

There was another man with pink hair sitting near him donning a flu mask.  You know for sure that you’ve seen him before but a name didn’t come to mind at all.   

And then Ran’s brother, Rin was also in the vehicle a slight glower on his face again not seeming very thrilled about being there. 

“How’d that go?” the blonde asked, his eyes shifting from your face and eventually down the length of your legs.   

“Everything is set.”  Ran answered as he leaned his head back against his headrest.  “Chief of police accepted the donation, we’re free to operate for the next couple of months.” 

You were becoming slightly tense at the use of Ran’s verbiage and whatever Ran was talking about you didn’t want to know about it.  He’s kept you in the dark for this long and quite frankly that’s how you’d like it to stay. 

“Is this your employee?” the blonde spoke up again his eyes blank of any emotion as he leaned forward to cradle his chin in both hands. 

Sanzu, the man with the pink hair pulled his flu mask down underneath his chin exposing a wide amused grin that made those star-shaped scars at the corners of his lips more pronounced.   

“Is she available for a test run?” 

Ran clicked his tongue in distaste an aggravated sigh following. 

“She’s not an employee, she’s, my girlfriend.”  He pulled you tighter against him nearly smothering you in his shirt.  “And she is off limits.  So, none of you fuckers better put your nasty little paws on her without my permission.” 

Mikey, the blonde’s eyebrows went up in surprise.  He wasn’t expecting that at all.  

“So, it’s debatable?”  Sanzu asked, green eyes sparking with mirth. 

Mikey’s dark eyes narrowed almost into slits as he eyed Ran suspiciously. 

“Ran... is committing?”  He asked dumbly.  The question caused Ran to snap his normally carefree demeanor darkening into one of frustration. 

“Knock it off, assholes.” 

Mikey put held his hands up in defense in front of him before reclining against his seat. 

“On a more serious note, we have work to do.  I need you there.”  Mikey jutted his chin towards you still huddled on Ran’s lap as he continued to talk.  “Take your girl home.” 

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

And that’s how it happened.  You got no more subtle nuances; they took you back to Ran’s penthouse where he helped you get ready for bed.  He ran you a bath and waited for you to finish washing before tucking you away into his bed.   

“I’ll be back before you get up in the morning.” 

He left you with a kiss on the forehead, something you noticed he did often.  As he turned his back to you, you watched as he shouldered into a dark suit jacket adjusting the collar a bit. His face was barren of any emotion whatsoever. 

Be careful. 

You closed your eyes maybe a second too long and when you opened them back up, he was gone. 

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

Hours later, or what seemed like hours had you slipping from underneath the comforter awakened by the musky scent of cigar smoke or maybe weed?  You weren’t able to tell the difference.  It was still dark out, the dawn not near enough give Ran’s bedroom the grace of any illumination. 

Pulling the bed’s comforter off of your lap, tossing both feet over the side of the mattress to press them both flat on the wooden floor.  Blinking away the remnants of sleep you stared up at the ceiling taking another sniff of the air, just to be sure you weren’t dreaming.  

Standing up in the darkness of the room you treaded lightly towards the door until you had an open view of the living room.  Pulling Ran’s shirt back up on your shoulder, you crossed the threshold to see the outline of a man sitting on the sofa.  It startled you enough that you stopped in your tracks, squinting into the darkness in an attempt to adjust your vision. 

A cloud of smoke seeped through the man’s lips and billowed towards the ceiling before disappearing.  Continuing your stride forward you rounded the couch to see the faint outline of an all too familiar Bonten tattoo on his neck. 

It was Ran.  He reclined against the soft headrest, taking another draw from his cigar before expelling the smoke again.  He was sitting alone in the dark, suit jacket thrown haphazardly across the arm of the sofa.  From what you could see, it looked like he was decompressing or heavy in thought. 

“Ran?” you called out to him; voice still hoarse from sleep.   

He lifted his head abruptly caught off guard while he pulled the cigar from his mouth.  A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips while he leaned forward to stub his cigar out on the glass tabletop.  He looked tired.  His normally slicked back hair was slightly disheveled and falling loosely over his face.  He looked... out of sorts.  Eyes wide and blooming with something, you didn’t recognize.  Not his normally put-together façade that you often saw when you two were together. 

Opening his arms, he leaned back against the couch opening his arms as he called you over. 

“Come ‘ere baby.” 

You padded over to him without hesitation sitting on his lap as he beckoned you to.  Wrapping you in his arms he sighed in contentment as he pressed his cheek against your head inhaling the faint scent of your shampoo.   

“Is everything okay?” you asked the question, but you were sure you knew the answer because you had never seen Ran in such a state before.  He was unresponsive, and you could smell the thick odor of gun powder coming off of him. 

“Mhm.” the affirmation came after a brief moment of silence, with both of his hands grasping at the collar of the silk pajama shirt you were wearing.  It belonged to him, he decided that he liked seeing you in his clothes more than your own sleepwear.   

You could feel his fingers tensing along the fabric, a surprised yelp tearing from your throat as his hands yanked the fabric apart scattering the buttons along the seat of the sofa.  Your bare tits spilled free from the silk, nipples beginning to harden from the airconditioned living room.   

“Ran,” you whispered out his name, still a bit shellshocked from the fact that he had ripped apart the shirt you were wearing.   

You could feel his palm settle itself at the base of your neck pulling your back flush against his chest before nuzzling a kiss into the nape of your neck. 

“Are you alright?” His voice was low, again dripping with something that you couldn’t identify.  But underneath it, you could pinpoint his sense of urgency. 

“Y-yes.” You nodded in response, swallowing the tightening in your throat as his free hand trailed up the expanse of your abdomen to grasp at your breasts. 

You shuddered in response to his wandering hands, the unsolicited groan from behind you sending a shiver down your spine.  Ran was holding you close as he rutted up against your behind, pinning your hips down against his lap.  

You could feel the unmistakable presence of an erection beneath his slacks coming to life providing enough friction to cause your nerves to spring to life. 

“Take your underwear off.” 

Ran’s thumb grazed the puckered bud causing you to jerk in response a breath of air getting lodged in your throat. 

“I-I’m not wearing any.” 

He nearly growled in response as his hand left your breast, to fumble with the button of his slacks.  He wasted no time pulling himself free from his trousers, the reddened mushroom tip prodding at your slicked entrance clumsily before forcing himself inside of you.  There was a groan of relief as he nestled into your warmth, the hand at your throat pinning you against his chest. 

Everything happened so quickly, that you barely had time to react your mind becoming foggy once his hips began to meld into your own with his shallow thrusts. 

Something was off, that much you were able to determine by the way he was handling you.  Normally he was gentle and soft, but right now his movements were rushed and, in a way, desperate.  You weren’t able to get a word out before he was thrusting into you, his dick heavy and throbbing along your walls while you attempted to formulate any coherent thoughts. 

He’s holding you in place, legs on either side of his so that you're straddling him and completely immobilized.  There’s one hand still holding form around your throat while the other hand plays with your clit his thrusts almost animalistic. 

Moaning pathetically one of your hands finds his at your clit, fingers tightening around his wrist as he continued to pound into you.  You didn’t know if you wanted him to stop or continue, the tightening in your gut coming to a head so rapidly it was causing your back to throb. 

“Ran,” you sobbed pitifully, as you caught your breath; the vinous odor of sweat and grime coming from the man behind you.   

“Just a little, -more,” he grunted low, his thrusts becoming more erratic before he felt your cunt tightening around him in a vice-like grip.   

Your climax came first and it was unexpected causing an acute tremor to shoot down your spine as a heap of warmth began to dribble from your core varnishing Ran’s cock. 

He groaned almost painfully into your ear as he climaxed inside of you your cunt milking as his hips stuttered to a complete stop. 

The hand at your throat loosened its grip, falling limply at his side as he peppered the side of your throat with kisses.  The room was now eerily quiet, the only sounds heard between you and Ran were his heavy breathing and your own.   

You weren’t sure what spurred his actions prior and you were unsure if he was willing to share, so you simply relaxed in his lap until the aftershocks of your orgasm passed.  Ran was still underneath you, his dick inside you plugging any remnants of his seed from seeping out of you.   

Turning so that you could see his face, you were surprised to find both of his eyes closed his soft breathing followed by a light snore catching you off guard.  He had already fallen asleep? 

“Ran,” you tried, palming his cheek gently as he shifted beneath you.   

“Yes baby,” he replied, his eyes cracking open a moment later.   

“Let's get you to bed, hm?”  you asked offering him a faint smile. 

He nodded in agreement, taking his time as he slipped out of you to tuck himself away into his trousers. 

You walked him to the bathroom one of your hands attempting to keep the silk shirt that you were wearing in one piece.  He pulled you into the shower with him, wiping you down before he cleaned himself.  All in silence.  He had a very faraway look on his face almost as if he were on autopilot but his thoughts were a million miles away.   

Once the two of you returned to bed, you curled into him running your hands through his damp hair.  It was obvious to you that there was something very heavy weighing on his mind.  

“Everything okay?” you asked, even though you were positive he wouldn’t share.  His brows simply furrowed in annoyance as his eyes zeroed in on your own.  You simply smiled at him softly in understanding. 

“You can talk to me, whenever.” you offered, kissing him lightly on the tip of his nose.  “I’m here to listen if you need me to.” 

You left it at that, moving closer to him your head resting on his pillow instead of your own.  Something must have happened tonight, but you understood if he wasn’t going to share.  It was to be expected. 

Closing your eyes a few quiet seconds ticked by with you expecting Ran to just roll over and fall asleep.  What you didn’t expect was for him to open his mouth to elaborate on his current state of mind.  

“Rin was shot tonight.”  

Ran’s voice held no emotion, it was monotoned and you could feel the tension in his jaw against your forehead.   

Upon opening your eyes again to look at him, he was staring off into the distance of the dark room.   

Your mouth opened to no doubt question about his state, but his next sentence answered your question. 

“He’s fine.” 

Relief flooded form as you relaxed against him raising your eyes to meet with his own. 

“How are you feeling?” It was an honest question.  You weren’t purposely going into “therapist” mode, you genuinely wanted to know how he was dealing with it all. 

Ran hesitated, turning over on his back to stare up at the ceiling of his bedroom. 

“It didn’t bother me at first... but when I got to thinking.” he let out a bitter chuckle before his eyes met yours once again.  “I was scared.” 

Your eyes softened, your hand resting on his abdomen when he stopped talking.  You were trying to reassure him.  A man like Ran, probably never let that guard down.  Always seemingly having that hard edge shrouding any emotion that showed weakness. 

“Never really thought about losing my baby brother until tonight.” 

Resting your chin on his chest as you leaned over him, you continued to make eye contact with him. 

“It's normal, Ran.  It’s normal to feel scared to lose someone.” You offered him another smile as his eyes narrowed slightly as if he were skeptical.  “It’s not good to... hold it all in though.  So, you can talk to me, if you ever need to.” 

Ran merely hummed under his breath as he rolled over top of you resting both of his elbows on either side of your head. He studied your face as he found himself nestled in between your thighs for the second time tonight, one of his hands cupping your sex at the apex of your thighs.  

Gasping in surprise you flushed in embarrassment as his thumb began to toy with your overstimulated clit. 

“You’re trying to turn me into... some kind of softie, aren’t ya?” His middle and index fingers teased your entrance, making you squirm away from him.  

“N-no, I’m-” you started, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to suppress a moan.  “I’m here.” 

Your admission caused him to pause his advances if only momentarily before he leaned down to take your lips in his own.  He didn’t say another word as he took you to bed again for a second time that night.  

When the sun had risen, you had lost count of how many times throughout the night Ran had found himself on top of you.  You didn’t question it either.  It was a nice change to have someone clambering over you in the middle of the night just to give you an orgasm just because they felt like it 

Ran treated you to a nice breakfast at a restaurant that he frequented that morning.  Flirting with you every chance he got and gushed about how much he wanted to see you dressed up in a gown again.  He seemed to be in a fairly decent mood after what you witnessed the night before. 

He dropped you off at your office afterward with promises of a nice dinner and more quality time together as if you didn’t already spend every waking moment with him.  Sending him off with a kiss on the cheek, he nearly jumped on you in return slobbering down your throat in front of the building.   

Scolding him angrily, he got in the back of the black town car and disappeared down the road.  Three hours later you found yourself cleaning out your office, with no patients in sight for the next couple of weeks.  You were thinking about moving on to something different, but you weren’t sure what.   

The sound of frantic yelling outside of your door startled you as you placed a long-forgotten hardcover book up on the top of the bookshelf in the corner.  Your office door flew open the door knob slamming into the wall as it did.   

You stared, confounded at none other than Hanma Shuji at the door.  Yoko was behind him face flushed and her eyes wide in horror as the man snickered down at her clearly amused at her disarray. 

“Ms. Y/n! I’m sorry, I tried to tell him that he wasn’t allowed back here but he strolled through anyway!” Yoko was embarrassed, her hand planted firmly on the door frame as she looked from you back to Hanma trying to decipher what she would do next.  “Should I call the police?!” 

Hanma howled in laughter, one of his tattooed hands clutching the front of his vest in mock horror as he eyed a bewildered Yoko. 

You were partial to Yoko.  Calling the police would have been a great idea because what the hell was Hanma doing here?  And how did he know where to find you? 

Smiling uneasily, you sent Yoko back towards the front.  You’d have to deal with this on your own. 

“No, it’s fine Yoko.” Running a hand over the front of your thighs to smooth the fabric of your skirt out you gave her a reassuring smile.  “You can go back to the front; I’ll call you if I need anything.” 

Hanma’s smile only broadened as Yoko turned to leave hesitantly. 

“Yes, of course.” If looks could kill.  Hanma would have keeled over right then and there.  Yoko sent Hanma a rather disgusted scowl as she left the office, making sure to leave the door wide open before she went back to the lobby. 

Now, what was this man doing here... in your office? 

“Hanma, Shuji.” you started, watching as he grasped hold of the door handle of your office door planning to close it.  “Keep my door open please.”  

He ignored you, shutting the door and even making sure to twist the lock before he gave you, his undivided attention. 

Frowning at his actions, you remained behind your desk, studying him as he began to tread through your office both of his hands jammed into the pockets of his pattern-printed slacks.  He whistled lowly to himself, his attention going over your credentials placed up on the walls much like Ran had done when he first came here. 

“Nice, place.  You’re the real deal huh?” he grunted, pulling out one of his hands to knock one of your framed awards off of the wall. 

The sound of the glass shattering from the frame caused you to flinch, but your eyes never left Hanma as he circled your desk like you were prey. 

“Why are you here?” you asked as a persistent tightness began to form in your throat.  You tugged at the collar of your shirt as if it would decrease the building apprehension of your current predicament. 

“Suzu told me you might be able to help me with my mommy issues,” he spoke with a playful lilt in his voice before he plopped down on the sofa across from your desk.  Crossing one leg over the other Hanma leaned against the arm of the sofa giving you a wide grin.   

Hanma unnerved you.  You didn’t like him, he made you uncomfortable, and for a very good reason. 

“Whatever Suzu told you I could help with, I can’t.  I’m sorry.” Turning away from him briefly, you pulled open a drawer in your desk taking out your cellphone.  Keeping it out of his sight, you sent Ran a quick text message letting him know that Hanma was here in your office. 

“You’re a real proper bitch, ain’t cha’?”   

Your brows furrowed in disbelief at his language. You looked up, unsure of how to answer his question pinning Hanma with a look of uneasiness. He was smiling in your direction from his position on the leather couch, legs wide elbows resting on both knees as he leaned forward.  

You shook your head in frustration, looking away from him to continue typing in your message to Ran before hitting the send button. 

You: Hanma is here at the office. 

“What are you talking about?” Once that outgoing message was sent, you gave Hanma your attention once again nervously walking back to the front of your desk. 

Hanma blatantly ignored your response eyes fixated on the hem of your skirt and the way it accentuated the curve of your ass while leaning against the wooden desk. 

He sat up reclining against the back of the couch, resting his ankle on his opposite knee.  

“Proper. Probably better off as a housewife or some shit.” he chuckled to himself as he pushed the frames of his glasses up further on his nose. “I bet you’d be satisfied living in a big ol’ house, waiting hand and foot on a husband that’s fucking everyone else but you.”  

Your jaw clenched tight again in annoyance as you shot Hanma a glare from the corner of your eye. Why was he here?  He was putting you on edge, his words possessing a hard edge to them. 

“It wouldn’t even bother ya’ as long as he’s bringing home money for you to spend right, sweet thing?”  

Sighing in agitation, you stood erect crossing both of your arms across your bosom giving him a flat not-so-entertained expression. 

“What are you doing here Hanma?” you hated to admit it but he was getting under your skin. The assumptions were imaginary at best, but that’s the kind of life you envisioned early on if Kenji had ever proposed to you. Ken was always gone, busy with work and almost always only ever approached you when he was trying to stick his dick in you.  

Hanma cackled wildly throwing his head back against the couch, as he watched you mull over his previous speculation. He noticed the way your body language tightened and the sighs of exasperation, he knew he was upsetting you. Your frustrations were something that fueled his teasing, seeing a pretty girl like you with her panties all in a bunch got him all worked up.  

“Suzu was a proper bitch too until I got hold of her.” He leaned forward tucking his bottom lip in between his teeth while grinning stupidly in your direction. His right hand, tattooed with punishment came up as he crooked a finger urging you to lose the distance to come to him. “Come ‘ere baby, Ran won’t mind if I had a little taste.”  

Visibly unnerved by Hanma’s flippant behavior you sighed, fed up, and not wanting to be in the same room with him any longer. You wondered if Ran had gotten your message.  You cursed internally; he probably wouldn’t even look at his phone for hours.  He was working.     

Your heels were glued to the carpet of your office, as you glowered at him disgusted.  Unsure of what his intent was.�� 

“I’m not one of your whores, Hanma.” you bit out the sentence turning your back towards him and re-engaging with your phone that was sitting on your desk. “And I’m certainly not Suzu.”  

“Oh boo-hoo, you’re no fun.” He laughed to himself as he became erect still seated on the couch.  “I have something for ya.”  he smiled, his glasses falling down the bridge of his nose in the process.  His hand went into the pocket of his vest and he pulled out a sealed envelope holding it out in your direction.  “Suzu asked me to give this to you, you might want to take it, babe.” 

Tossing him a glance over your shoulder, your eyebrows perked up curiously.  You hadn’t talked to Suzu in a long while, and if it was a message from her, you’d admit that you were just a tad bit interested.   

Slowly crossing the room, you timidly took the envelope from Hanma’s hand still eyeing him with suspicion.  He was still smiling, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he looked you over.   

You couldn’t fathom how someone could be in the same room as this man, he was outright mannish.  Mannish and... possibly on something.  You could tell by the way his eyes were permanently wrenched wide open; pupils dilated.  Turning away from him, you moved back towards your desk to put the blank envelope on the desk without bothering to open it. 

Hanma pouted from his seat, clicking his tongue clearly disappointed. 

“Not going to open it up to read it?  I was kind of interested in what she had to say.”  He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette to place between his lips.  “Can’t be more shocking than the fact that she was fucking your boyfriend, eh?” 

Shooting Hanma a hardened glare, you crossed the room to reach for the cigarette in between his lips pulling it free. 

“Don’t smoke in my office please.” you were already agitated, and wanted this man to leave yet he was still here trying you. 

Hanma laughed grasping hold of your wrist with one of his larger hands, chuckling darkly under his breath. 

“Hang on baby, don’t steal my cigarettes.”   

He held you steady, pulling the cigarette from your hand and in the process tugging you towards him so abruptly that you tripped over your own feet knees colliding with the carpet on the floor.  

Yelping in pain, you attempted to readjust yourself having fallen right in-between Hanma’s wide-open legs.  He still had a firm grip on your wrist as he grinned down at you, the scent of his musky cologne beginning to overpower your senses.   

“M-move!” you rasped, retracting away from him as he pushed his face into your jugular the tip of his nose grazing your earlobe. 

“I think I like you in this position, yeah?” his voice was low, gravelly, an attempt at being what he called seductive. 

You could feel his warm breath against your pulse as he held you close, with him pulling away his long fingers beginning to fumble with the leather belt keeping his pants up. 

“Come on baby, give me a little something.” he teased, nimble fingers reaching to undo the buttons on his slacks. 

You recoiled abruptly only to be stopped by Hanma’s hand grabbing your ponytail to guide your face towards the prominent bulge at his crotch. 

“No! What the fuck Hanma?!” you pulled away from him again panicking attempting to push back the bile rising up your throat. 

Hanma kissed his teeth, shaking his head slightly as he looked down at you watching you struggle underneath his much stronger grip.   

“Eh, not the dick suckin’ type huh?” he sounded disappointed.  “All this time I was under the impression that you were a freak, you were supposed to take over for Suzu you know?” 

Hanma released his grip on your hair and you pushed yourself away from him sliding across the carpet.  You were shaking, tears the start of tears beginning to sting your eyes as you sat there confused. 

Take over for Suzu. You nearly vomited on the spot. Ran was right, Suzu was offering you up as some sort of human trafficking sacrifice so that she could go free. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, your gaze still trained on the golden-eyed man who was still thoughtfully sitting on the couch in your office.  You wanted to tell him to leave, but fear welded you into place on the floor. 

Hanma sighed; eyes low as he observed you from your position on the floor.  He stood up momentarily his hands still playing with the undone leather belt at his waist. 

“I guess I won’t mind breaking you in, that’s always the fun part.” he shrugged nonchalantly, grinning in your direction. 

You were so stunned, distracted even by his words that you didn’t realize that he had crossed the room hovering over you, lowering himself so that he was straddling your hips and pinning you to the floor.  

“N-no! Get off-!” you began. 

Your words were cut short Hanma’s obscenely large hand clasping over your mouth to muffle your cries. The back of your head collided with the floor knocking the remaining air from your lungs, a muffled whimper following after. 

 Hanma was smiling, golden hues shining iridescently as he leaned over you bidding you stay quiet. 

“Shh, don’t scream.” he cooed, “I’m not going to hurt you, pretty.” 

Diligently, his fingers from his opposite hand began to unbutton your shirt until the lace of the black lingerie worn underneath peeked through. 

Hanma audibly groaned wedging his bottom lip in between his teeth before his thumb slipped underneath the lacey material grazing over a stiffening nipple. 

Whimpering underneath the faint touch you attempted to scream, his hand continuing to muffle any additional sound trying to slip through his palm. 

“Fuck, yes. This is turning you on, isn’t it?” Grasping hold of the cup of the bra he yanked it down so that your tit fell free, his hand roughly kneading the sensitive flesh. “You like being taken advantage of sweetheart?” 

An abrupt knock on your door caused Hanma to tear his attention away from you, Yoko’s voice filling the quiet space.  

“Ms. Y/n is everything alright?” 

Hanma clicked his tongue wide grin still painted on his face. Holding an index finger up to his lips he shushed you, before pulling his hand away. “Running out of time, I guess we’ll have to finish this another time.” 

Once he released you and stood up you scrambled away from him for a second time to fix your clothes. Your heart was beating sporadically as you wiped away your tears refusing to take your eyes off of Hanma as he headed towards the door.  

He opened it to greet Yoko who stood on the other side, her facial expression falling once she saw him. 

“I’m on my way out, baby don’t look so mean.” Hanma jested as he leaned forward clearly invading her personal space.  Quickly stepping away from him she pinned herself against the wall in the hall watching him walk away. He turned back to give you a charming smile, reinserting his cigarette from earlier between his lips. “Give Suzu my farewell, pretty thing. I didn’t get to say goodbye properly.”  

With that, he smugly walked down the hall his back being the last thing that you saw of him. 

“The next time you come back here, I’m calling the cops!” Yoko called after him after he disappeared into the lobby, sticking her head back into your office. 

You’d had time to fix yourself by now, your head spinning in circles at what had just occurred. You couldn’t think and Hanma’s last phrase was giving you a headache. Give Suzu his farewell? What the hell was he- 

“Ms. Y/n are you okay? I’m going to alert security about him.” Yoko looked in the direction Hanma had left shaking her head, clearly shaken up. “I didn’t like him at all, what kind of thug?!” 

Resting a hand on Yoko’s shoulder you offered her a weak smile, attempting to reassure her in some way shape or form. 

“It’s okay, he won’t be back.” 

Yoko stayed a moment longer before heading back to the lobby and after she departed you went back to your phone to see if Ran had texted you back. Picking it up with the intent to call him, you stopped when it began to ring in your hands. 

It was Kenji. In your state of desperation, you picked it up breathing into the receiver. 

“H-hello?” 

Kenji’s voice was gruff on the other line, immediately spitting out what he had to say. 

“I need you to come down to the station sometime today, it’s important.” 

Sighing in frustration you were silent, trying to find the right words to say. 

“What for?” you asked, waiting for his response. 

It was a long silence before he said anything. An agitated sigh came over the receiver.  

“I just need you to get here.” 

“Fuck, Kenji.” you snapped. “I’m not coming unless you tell me why you need me there.” 

He was silent again. The static on the other end of the receiver was the only thing you could hear. 

“I need you to identify a body, y/n.” The words were straight and to the point, Kenji’s voice lacking any sort of emotion. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach at his response that familiar tightness beginning to take hold of your throat. 

“Wait-, what??” you were becoming frantic as you paced around the room, swallowing around the tightness. “What body? Who’s body?!” 

“Just get here as soon as you can.” 

The line disconnected and you were left with silence as you stared into the display of your phone.  

“What... is going on?” 

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Eight

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: the beginning of the end :,) if u made it this far i think ur cool

***

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” Lana asks.

Nesta closes her eyes, letting the picture swirl and take shape in her mind.

This time last year, she would have imagined nothing. Nothing but a desk in a busy law office, and maybe a nice apartment if she was lucky. That would be it. But now she sees…

“Somewhere with good food and good music,” she muses. “Maybe a sea breeze.” The sun-faded buildings of Portofino fade into the foreground of her imagination. “There are lots of people with me,” she hears the sound of children shrieking and Cassian’s rumbling laughter, “but it’s okay, because I love every one of them.” Her eyes open. “Is that a good answer?”

A near invisible smile tugs at the corners of Lana’s lips. “You tell me, Nesta. Do you like what you see?”

“It’s a little too cinematic if you ask me,” Nesta says nonchalantly, picking up her bag from the ground, “but I suppose all dreams are that way.”

“It’s a good dream,” Lana says. “A worthy dream, and one you deserve to chase.”

Nesta shrugs lightly, not too worried about the burden of the future for once. “Maybe I will.”

“In that case, congratulations on completing your final therapy session,” Lana says, setting her notebook aside. “You’ve made some amazing progress this year.”

Nesta gives her therapist her signature what’s-wrong-with-you look. “I’m going on vacation, not firing you for good. I’ll see you again in two months.”

“Two months can be enough to lose all your progress, if you forget everything you went through to get here.”

Nesta isn’t stupid. She knows that she isn’t suddenly desperate to make babies or be maid of honor at her sisters’ weddings or some bullshit. She knows that the image she just dreamed up, with Cassian and kids and her unburdened heart, is likely more than five years away. If it happens at all, it could be ten, even twenty years of hard work away.

She’s not nearly finished growing yet. “I’ll see you in two months, Lana,” she repeats.

Lana smiles at her fully this time. “Enjoy your summer, Nesta.”

***

The air is different in the Smokies.

Nesta rolls the truck windows down so she can inhale it, relish it. Wind whips her hair every which way as they drive down the winding freeway cutting through the lush mountains, and something about the look on her face makes Cassian chuckle and press down on the accelerator.

Nesta watches the red needle on the speedometer cross ninety, then one hundred. She can barely feel the June heat with how fast they’re going.

In the end, it was Feyre and Elain that reached out and invited her to the Tennessee summer home. Cassian had made it obvious that he wouldn’t push her to go if she didn’t want to, and at first she really didn’t want to. But Feyre had looked so hopeful when she asked Nesta to come with them, and even Elain had revealed a glimmer of eagerness that Nesta would say yes.

So against all odds, she agreed to go.

Exchanging one mountain home for another isn’t much of a getaway, but Nesta can’t help but be excited. Even with the unhappy memories of her childhood, she loves these hills more than any other.

The pure exhilaration of being back in Tennessee overcomes her at some point during the drive, knocking her out in the passenger seat where she sits. In her drowsy state, she distantly hears the windows being rolled up, before feeling Cassian’s hand guide her head to rest against the glass. The rest of the drive is warm and sunny, enough to lull her into a deep sleep.

The next thing Nesta’s aware of is the crunch of gravel and the feeling of the truck tires slowing to a stop. Fingers brush against her heated cheek, and then Cassian is murmuring at her to wake up.

Blinking her eyes open, Nesta twists around to see their destination.

For a moment, she thinks she’s still dreaming.

“Welcome to Holly House,” Cassian says with a grin. The house in question is quaint and sprawling at the same time, the way most upper class Southerners like their houses. The whole thing gleams with a fresh coat of white paint under the afternoon sun, complemented by a sky blue wraparound porch. Colonial style windows and proud columns decorating the facade of the building makes it look like the setting of a fairy tale.

Beyond it, Nesta can see cherry blossoms. Pink, fluttering cherry blossoms that fly off their branches and swirl through the air, some of them disappearing into the thick woods behind the house. Woods that Nesta has walked countless times before.

“The rest of the guys won’t get here until tomorrow afternoon,” Cassian is saying to her, “so we have the whole place to our—”

Nesta isn’t listening anymore. She unbuckles her seatbelt and shoves open the truck door, hobbling outside on unsteady feet to make sure she isn’t hallucinating things. But no, this is…

“Cherrywood,” she breathes, eyes wide in disbelief.

Cassian gets out of the truck, coming up beside Nesta to slip his hand into her shorts pocket. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

“This is Rhysand’s summer home?” Nesta points at the house. “This place?”

Cassian looks around at the building grounds in confusion. “Has been for the last two decades, yeah.”

It’s been eleven years since she last stepped foot on these grounds.

With wonderment in her voice, she utters to Cassian, “I’ve been here before.”

At his puzzled look, she explains, “I lived just on the other side of those woods.” She points to the trees. “There’s an old cracked road that hasn’t been maintained since it was first paved, and you can follow it straight to the poor side of town. Whenever I wanted to get away, I would come down that road and trek through the woods, and I’d end up here. I stopped coming because…” she trails off.

Because she got caught that one time.

Cassian seems to realize it at the same moment as her. His hand slips out of her pocket. “You…”

Nesta remembers a tall boy with shocked eyes and shaggy hair, and she shakes her head slowly in forceful denial. It can’t be true. It’s too much of a coincidence.

But he points at her, then her feet. “You—with the size six Converse,” he sputters. “It was you.”

Before Nesta can confirm or deny it, he grabs her by the wrist and starts tugging her along, up the porch stairs and inside the house.

Even with Rhysand and Feyre’s renovations, it looks undeniably the same as all those years ago. The living room is to her right and the farmhouse style kitchen and dining area is to the left, though she speeds by it all as Cassian pulls her farther inside the house, to the closet beneath the curving stairs.

He lets go of her hand to search the small closet, muttering, “I know they were here somewhere.” But the closet looks like it was stripped empty for renovations, with only bolts in the walls indicating that shoe racks used to hang there.

Cassian turns and heads for the stairs, and Nesta blindly follows him. She also wants to go upstairs, wants to see if the bay window looking out onto the garden has stayed the same.

Like he read her mind, he leads her straight to the room she used to spend hours reading in. It’s smaller than all the other bedrooms in the house, but it’s always been her favorite because of the view.

As Cassian keeps looking for whatever it is he’s looking for, upturning boxes and checking beneath furniture, Nesta drifts toward the bay window. She looks from the cherry blossom trees outside, to the full-sized bed, to Cassian, and a weight drops even heavier in her gut. She has to reach out and grip the edge of the dresser for support.

Finally, Cassian pops out of the closet victorious. In his hand are a pair of ragged shoes that Nesta hasn’t worn in a long, long time.

He comes over and drops them with a thud at her feet.

“Whose room is this?” she asks with a rough voice, still staring down at the shoes.

“Mine,” he answers simply.

“Oh.” She met him before. She met him before.

When Nesta dares to look up and meet Cassian’s eyes, what she finds there nearly robs her of breath: wonder, astonishment, and unwavering fealty. He breaks into sudden wholehearted laughter, which dazes her even more.

“What’s so funny?” she demands.

Cassian gets out between laughs, “What was it Rhysand said about Feyre? When they found out they were close to crossing paths when they were younger?”

Nesta’s earth-tilting shock slowly slips away, replaced by a stern look. “Don’t say it.”

He pretends to remember. “I think it was fate.” A wicked smirk pulls at his lips at Nesta’s resigned sigh. “But I have another word for it, too.”

“Don’t say that, either.” She pleadingly holds up her hands, only for Cassian to snatch one out of the air and intertwine his fingers with hers.

“Soulmate,” he says quietly, now less amused.

Nesta swallows thickly, not having any words for him. All she knows is that he is never going to let her live this down.

“Imagine if we’d gone to the same high school,” Cassian says to her later that afternoon as they lounge in his old room. “Fuck, I could’ve saved myself so much time with all those random girls.” They’ve been swapping childhood stories for the past hour, as if they might find more instances in their history of a red string tying them together.

Nesta doesn’t need coincidences or fateful run-ins to know that a string has always been wrapped around her ring finger, pulling her to Colorado and to that cabin. But for Cassian’s sake, she’ll gladly amuse him. “I would have been a freshman while you were a senior,” she says matter-of-factly. “It never could have happened.”

He hums in thought, head propped up in his hand, elbow propped up against the bay window seat. “Maybe if you were older. You would have been the smart, quiet girl, and I’d have been the player jock, and as soon as we locked eyes in math class, I’d be head over heels in love with you.”

Nesta cackles from where she sits in the window seat above him. “Now you’re just writing fanfiction.”

Cassian grins up at her but doesn’t send a rebuttal her way. The conversation falls into a lull, until Nesta has to reach out and ask, “What are you thinking?”

His smile turns a little sad. “That I wish we weren’t doing this right before I leave for another country.”

Right. That’s what’s been hanging over them the entire trip to Tennessee: that as soon as they get back to Colorado, Cassian is going to be on a plane to Milan.

Getting Keith O’Connell to quit—how exactly Cassian went about accomplishing it, he still won’t tell Nesta—left Rhysand at square one with his search for a team leader for his overseas venture.

When Cassian brought up the idea of taking the job to Nesta, he sounded like he hoped she would shoot him down, talk him out of it. He both wanted to go and was reluctant to leave, like his very soul was glued to his home and he didn’t want to unstick himself.

So Nesta, being his home, had to do the unsticking for him. She nearly accepted the year-long Milan position herself for Cassian’s sake, and it took weeks of coaxing and convincing to put him at ease about the whole thing.

“But we promised to go together for the first time,” he kept saying.

“We’ll still go together one day, and it’ll still be our first time there with each other,” she reassured him.

Eventually, he relented to her and Rhysand’s pressures with a single condition. “I’ll do six months. Not a year.”

Only Nesta knows deep down how much Cassian needs this opportunity. Though Cassian must know it a little bit too, because he wouldn’t have taken the job if he didn’t.

Nesta might have needed him in order to come out of her shell, but now he needs to get away from her in order to find his own shell. Something he can call his own, unburdened by his loyalties to the people he loves. So he can find who he wants to be for himself, without always being attached to her hip.

Rising to her feet, Nesta raises her arms in the air in a full body stretch. Her back and legs ache with being curled up in that window seat for so long without movement.

Dropping her arms, she holds out a hand to Cassian still sitting on the floor. “Come on,” she urges him. “Let’s go outside. I haven’t seen a Smoky sunset in years.”

“But it’s not evening yet,” he argues while taking her hand.

Outside, they explore the garden that leads into the woods while waiting for the sun to slink down the sky. Cherry blossoms ride the summer breeze wherever it takes them, resulting in Cassian sniffling and scratching at his neck as they walk hand in hand.

“Rhysand wanted to take these trees down and replace them with a flower garden for Elain,” he tells Nesta as they walk. His sinuses sound clogged, but he’s refused to go back inside until he’s explained every inch of the land to Nesta. “I convinced him not to because it would ruin the view from my bedroom window. Didn’t I make the right choice?” He throws a grin in her direction.

Nesta’s swallow is tight at that grin. “The view from your room was always my favorite part about the entire place. So yes, you did good.”

His eyes widen at that tidbit of information, and she can almost see him tucking it away as more Soulmate Evidence.

They stroll through the woods for a while, and Nesta points out the path she would take to get to Cherrywood—she still insists on calling it Cherrywood, even when Cassian argues that the house’s original name has been around since the sixties.

“Show me the rest of the way?” Cassian asks her, face lit up in boyish hope. “Show me where you ran away to that day I found you.”

Nesta almost expects the memory of the rundown apartment complex she grew up in to feel like being shoved into sludge: dirty, cold, and slimy. Instead, she finds she has no problem with looking back at her old home, no matter how many ugly memories she holds from there.

However, the dappled sunlight streaming in through the trees overhead has turned from yellow to dark gold, and she shakes her head in apology to Cassian. “Another day,” she promises him. “It’s almost sunset.”

They walk back to the house, rounding it until they reach the front. At the bottom of the hill that the house is perched on stands a pier that leads all the way out to the lake. Green mountains frame the lake from both sides, creating the perfect cradle for the sun to sink into.

They go all the way out to the edge of the pier, as if they’re trying to get as close to the sunset as physically possible. Dragonflies lazily swoop by as the lake is gradually painted in a hundred different colors.

Once there’s more darkness than light in the sky, Cassian nudges Nesta with one of the arms he has around her. “Look.” He points.

Along the shoreline of the lake, little dots of light have lit up to welcome the evening, their blinking glow so small that Nesta almost doesn’t catch it. Fireflies.

Nesta watches the insects flit in and out of the long grasses of the lake shore, getting tangled in the weeds and wildflowers. In that moment, she remembers something Cassian once confessed to her not long after his birthday.

I want to see more beautiful places with you.

Nesta ticks this beautiful place off the long list in her head—the first place out of many that she plans to see with Cassian.

More beautiful than the scene before her is the man in her arms. The man who was kind enough to understand a woman who barely understood herself, and to be her friend when she had none. The man who is extending his kindness right now by not having made any breaking-and-entering jokes about Nesta so far, though she’s sure he’ll pull them out eventually.

Discovering that she once found Cassian, just to let him slip by running away from him, only to find him again over a decade later—it comforts the tiny part of her that’s loath to say goodbye to him in two weeks.

Like Cassian is thinking the same thing, he murmurs into the dark, “I can’t wait to come back to you.”

Nesta huffs in amusement. “You haven’t even left yet.”

“I know.” After a moment, he adds in a low voice that not even the fireflies can hear, “Thank you for convincing me to go.”

She reaches up to squeeze his bicep. “Always.” And then she adds what she really wants him to hear: “Don’t come back until you find what you’re looking for.”

“I better find it quick then,” he jokes. Still, he nods in promise against the side of her head.

The only sound after that is the chirp of cicadas and the occasional lap of water meeting the pier beams. Nesta and Cassian stay outside in the June heat long after the sky turns ink blue.

***

a/n: next chapter is just some ic bullshit so take all ur bittersweet sentimentality here and go

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[let-me-love-you-loki]

Dreaming Too Late

           “Oh!” I sat up in bed, surprised by the strength of the thump of the baby growing inside me. I settled my hand over my belly and rubbed in slow soothing circles. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

           The bathroom door opened and light spilled out. It took a moment for me to recognize Matt’s silhouette. He was pulling his hair up into a knot. “Y/N, what are you doing up?”

           I leaned back against the headboard and sighed. “She kicked me awake.”

           He crossed the room and climbed up onto the edge of the bed. There was just enough light for me to see the outline of his face and the smile he wore. His right hand curled over my belly, thumb firm on the spot that somehow calmed our baby girl. “Come on, sweet pea,” he whispered beside my belly. “Give your mom a break. It’s going to be hard enough while we’re gone.”

           My heart stuttered as I remembered. No wonder he was awake so early. They had an hour drive to Los Angeles before they had to catch a flight to Japan. Today began a month and a half long loop with New Japan. They’d be on the road from the time they landed to the time they got on the plane to come home.

           It was the third time they’d had to leave since we’d found out I was pregnant.

           I ran my fingers over his hair, trying to memorize the feel of it before he left. Earlier in my pregnancy, it wasn’t so bad when they were gone. But now—three months before she was due—I was starting to worry. And not just worry, but miss them and mourn for the moments that they didn’t get to see.

           They’d been there the first time we’d seen our little girl’s face on the monitor in the doctor’s office. I’d been in absolute awe at the fact that I could see the curve of her sweet little nose and each of her fingers and toes. Matt and Nick had just cried. When we left the doctor that day, we had three sets of the ultrasound photos. One was on the fridge of each house. The last was divided between Matt and Nick, who kept them in their wallets and took them along when they traveled.

           “It’ll be fine,” I said softly, even though I wasn’t sure if I meant it. “It’s just six weeks.”

           Matt pressed a kiss against my belly. “I’ll miss you every second of it.”

           “Hey,” came Nick’s voice from the doorway, “we’ve got to… Sunshine, why are you awake?”

           He mirrored his brother’s earlier movements and climbed up onto the bed on my other side. The moment he saw Matt’s hand on my stomach, he nodded. “Ah, she must know we’re leaving.”

           I grinned and leaned against him. “Something like that.” I tipped my face upward and he gave me a soft, lingering kiss that made my entire body feel warm. He skimmed his fingers down my cheek. “Be careful. Please.”

           “We will,” he murmured, smiling sadly. “Trust us.”

           Nick leaned down and dropped a kiss on my belly before rolling off the bed. Matt reached up, cradling my neck in his hand, and drew me down for a goodbye kiss of his own. I hugged him tightly before he stood up.

           “Go back to sleep,” he ordered from the door. “We’ll let you know when we land. Promise you’ll take it easy.”

           Before I could answer, the baby kicked again, harder this time. I let out an oof and clutched my stomach. For a moment it looked like Matt was going to come back over, but I waved him off. “I’ll do my best. I promise.”

Nick

           I hated being away from Y/N. It had been bad in those first few moths after the wedding, but now that she was pregnant… I couldn’t stand it. Every moment that passed made me wonder if something horrible had happened. I wanted to go home. I wanted to go so desperately that it made me feel sick.

           Matt wasn’t much better. When we weren’t in the ring, we were talking about Y/N. The baby. Home. Plans for the future. What we would do once we had a little girl to care for. How we would even begin to manage wrestling and travel and making sure that our family was taken care of.

           “We can’t keep doing this forever,” I said one night as we sat in our hotel room eating fast food from 7-Eleven because it was all we could afford. “Y/N has spent half the time we’ve known her at home… alone… waiting for us to come back.”

           “I know,” Matt replied from where he sat on the bed. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. But what else are we supposed to do? We aren’t exactly millionaires, but we’re not going without.”

           My head ached just imagining it. Everything that could possibly go wrong. That we could lose. I dug my hand into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. The photograph from the ultrasound sat right in front. I took a deep breath and stared down at the grainy black and white image of our daughter. My fingers traced the shape of her face and the upturn of her nose. It made me so incredibly homesick that I couldn’t stand it.

           Right next to the ultrasound was a photograph from the wedding—Y/N and I dancing at the reception. I remembered the way she felt in my arms and the heart stopping curve and beauty of her smile when she looked up at me. God, I missed her.

Matt

           I knew the look on my brother’s face. It was the one he got when he began to wonder, to doubt. I didn’t have to guess that he was looking at pictures. Thinking about the life that we worked so hard for, even if it was something that no one else really understood.

           “We’ll figure it out, Nick. We always have. We always do,” I said.

           “I can go back to work with Dad,” Nick replied calmly. “There’ll be plenty of construction work by the time we get back. And maybe I can get something at the plastics place you used to work. The house, too. I can sell it.”

           It took me a fraction of a second to get up and go over to him. He barely looked up from the pictures when I sat down. “You know I’m a part of this too. You don’t have to do any of this by yourself. That’s the good thing about this life, Nick. There are two of us—here for each other… for Y/N… for this baby that’s coming—and we will do this together.”

           He finally glanced up, taking his eyes off the photos in his wallet. “I’m terrified, Matt. We have a little girl coming. This life that we’re responsible for.”

           “I’m scared too, Nick.” It wasn’t just the truth. It was something that he needed to hear. My brother was stronger than he gave himself credit for, smart and as bighearted as anyone else in the world.  “But we’ve got Dad and each other. And a wife who is the best woman to ever live. Do you think she’s going to let us muck this up?”

           Nick spat out a laugh and grinned. “No. She’d kill us first I think.”

           “Damn right she would.” I grinned back, happy to see that he’d lightened up his mood just a little. I glanced down at the photo of Nick and Y/N—him in a deep blue suit, her in her wedding gown, smiling at each other like lovesick fools. It looked as if he’d just said something to her, something that made her laugh and her eyes light up. She looked so beautiful, and my brother looked completely happy.

           I bumped him in the shoulder. “When we get back, I think it’s time you guys had your own wedding.”

***

           I walked the patio as the sun started to sink below the hill behind the house. My hands ran slow circles over my belly. The baby had been active all day, and anxiety waiting for Matt and Nick to come home was making both of us restless. I was exhausted. My feet ached, ankles swollen.

           After a while, I sat down on the shallow edge of the pool and let my feet dangle in the water. I leaned back on my hands, swirling my legs around. The sky above was just starting to switch from that faded blue of evening into the orange splashed purple of twilight. The stars would be out soon. By the way things were going, I’d be asleep before the boys got back.

           I was just about to get up when I heard a car in the driveway. There was no mistaking the faint rattle of Nick’s Nissan. As much as I wanted to jump up and run to the door, I was too pregnant to move very fast.

           It didn’t take long before I heard my name shouted from inside Nick’s house. “I’m out here!”

           Matt was the first one out the back door. He looked so tired, but there was a smile on his face that rounded his cheeks. It took him less than two steps to cover the distance between us. He reached out his hands, pulling me to my feet. The moment that I was standing, he drew me into his arms and hugged me tightly, dropping kisses all over my face.

           “I’ve missed you so much.” He grinned before he cradled my belly in his hands. “And you too. Have you been giving your mom a hard time?”

           “She’s been restless for you to come home,” I teased as I looked over his shoulder at Nick. He grinned, blue eyes beautiful and bright. My heart turned sideways with happiness. “Both of you.”

           I stepped away from Matt and practically ran at Nick. He cradled my face in his hands and leaned down to kiss me firmly. I couldn’t help but grin against his lips, laughing with a surprising happiness. It felt as if I hadn’t seen them for years rather than just a few weeks.

           “I love you so much,” he pledged. “I love you both so much.”

           I couldn’t explain why, but I started to cry. Hormones most likely.

           He swiped his fingers beneath my eyes, wiping away the tears. “Y/N… will you marry me? Please?”

           “What? Nick…” I stammered, surprised.

           “A real wedding—just for the two of us. It won’t be official, I know. But I want to marry you for real,” Nick said, tears blurring his eyes. “I love you so much, Y/N, and I want to be at the end of that aisle and see you in a dress and tell the people we love and that love us that you’re mine and I’m yours.”

           My heart skipped a beat. I had dreamed of this, but never thought I could have it. Just as I never thought I’d be able to keep the both of them. And yet here I was.

           Tears poured over my cheeks. Happiness buzzed through me. “Yes,” I yelped, wrapping my arms around him. “Yes.”

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[taecalikook]

When the sea sleeps

summary : marriage should be based on love, but it’s not really the case with you and Seokjin. what’s more beneficial than two person who sworn off romances to get married out of obligation, right? but you should have known better, that keeping your heart straight from wanting someone like Kim Seokjin is next to impossible.

{fake marriage! au, strangers to lovers!au}

pairing : kim seokjin x reader

genre : major tooth rotting fluff, crack, smut(?)

word count : 23.720 (one-shot)

warning! mention of period and masturbation, daddy kink, big cock! seokjin, teasing, cock sucking, rough blowjob, deep throat, nipple play, oral (female receiving), riding, cum play, major fluffy love talk (?), dry hump, infidelity mentions, etc. ((omg))

“Hi, I am in the mart near our apartment. Anything you want?”

“Yes, please. I think we ran out of toothpaste and cleaning liquid. And can you get the usual donuts as well? Thank you.” Your husband replies meekly from the other side of the call. You hum in agreement, noting the order. 

“Will you be home soon?” You ask mundanely, a question based out of routinity instead of wanting an answer. Well, that’s just how it is with Seokjin.

“I don’t think so. Might have to stay late for work. You should head to bed first.”

“Okay, then. See you.” You nod and cut the call, shoving the phone to your pocket.

It’s been like this for the past two and a half years with Seokjin. Meeting him after being introduced by your mother, getting married after six months of vague dating, and then living rather as a roommate than husband and wife in your small apartment. Life has been good.

Well, it’s not like you are married for love.

Seokjin is 33 years old this year, and you are 31. Years ago, you weren’t really interested in marriage. You were fully capable of living on your own, not really interested in love and that’s about it. Even so, your mother never stopped sending you lists of men she’s going to introduce you to—but you quickly shut her off by busying yourself with work and all. 

Yet no matter how heartless you might be, seeing your mother crying her heart out before bed for god to give you a good husband and family, you finally caved and agreed to one blind date. She couldn’t be happier to give you the name of your suitor. 

Kim Seokjin. A 31 years old, living in his own apartment, working in a local bank as a manager. 

When you first heard about him, there’s no outstanding or over the top qualities he possessed, and probably that’s how you prefer him to be. Yet when you saw him first, there’s literally nothing else you preferred him to be.

“I’m sorry for this, but… I actually have no interest in marriage.”

He thought you would be slapping him across the face after saying such a ridiculous statement on the first meeting, yet when your face lightened up, he was not less than confused. 

“Me too! I only did this because of my mother.” You squealed in delight of finding the person that shares your pain. “I never intend to get married myself.” 

“God, I was scared you’ll take this the wrong way.” He finally sighed in relief, was afraid of offending you. “My mother, she is.. sick right now, and she has never stopped saying that she wants to see me married before she dies.”

“I understood that. And I’m sorry, I hope she’ll be fine soon.” You sincerely wished him well. As far as you were concerned, Seokjin looked like a great guy. He deserved better, anyway, and high chance he would be a good friend. It’s not often to see someone not too desperate to chase love after reaching your age.

After another hour talking about anything but yourself, Seokjin reaches out for the bill. “Are you up for desserts?” He asked with a thin smile, and you nod happily, thinking about the sweets you were about to consume.

That evening, when your mother asked what happened with the date, you told her that she shouldn’t expect more about Seokjin. Yet the day after, Seokjin messaged you asking for a second date, your mother was over the moon. And that was how you spent another six months in a vague relationship with Seokjin, where it seemed like both of you were serious, yet there’s no feelings attached. Seokjin was a best friend, and an outstanding listener, but that’s about it. 

One day, Seokjin asked about the idea of marrying you, whether you would detest the idea. And strangely, you didn’t. The week after, Saturday night you were just sitting in his apartment eating his homemade dishes, Seokjin asked whether you wanted him to marry you. After setting a few basic rules, and just like that you agree. 

That’s how you’ve been living with a bestfriend-like-husband.

Sex is absolutely off limit, and not that Seokjin has initiated it before. You are sleeping in the same bed, but Seokjin generously chooses the giant king bed that is rather disproportionate to the whole room to ensure both of you have personal space in bed. In the morning, Seokjin usually cooks, and you’ll take turns cleaning the apartment. You’ll water the small plants near the window, changing your bed sheet, and cleaning your wedding photo from dust. 

On Saturday or Sunday, both of you will have brunch together in the nearest cafe then lounge around watching netflix on your large TV. Once every month he’ll have a drink with fellow friends or you’ll meet up with your best friends, and meet with your parents or in-laws. 

Living with Seokjin is a series of routinity, and you actually don’t mind. Maybe you're already in the age when you are surreptitious, and had enough of surprises. 

After taking a long warm bath and getting inside your comfy sheets, you settle for a while in silence until a name comes up on your screen. Your mother-in-law is calling. You abruptly  rise to sit, pressing the green button. “Hi, mother. How are you doing?”

“I’m very great now listening to my precious daughter’s voice!” She gleefully squeals, strangely energized. You glance at the clock on your nightstand. It’s already ten. Now it reminds you Seokjin’s not home yet. “Seokjin’s father is having a birthday lunch this Saturday. You can come right? Do come by eleven, okay?” 

“Ah, I see. We will, mom.” You smile, internally noting the event to let Seokjin reserve his time. The talks then continue with your condition, whether you’re well or having sickness whatsoever—you know she actually means to ask if you’re going to give her a grandchild anytime soon. You answer demurely, not that it surprises you as your own mother has been going on and on and on about it as well. But how can you say that when you haven’t even kissed him more than five times in the past two and a half years?

But to think about it, Seokjin really has a great self-control if he really is not having an affair—for the lack of better terms—outside your marriage. Not that it would upset you whatsoever, it’s just not something you’d rather discuss with each other. Both of you agreed it would be okay to do whatever you both want, as long as you’re open to each other—but so far, nothing has implied otherwise. You somehow feel an urgency to talk about it, as you know Seokjin is a healthy man who must have his own needs as well—the one you can’t help with. 

After the call ends, Seokjin enters your bedroom at the same time, looking crumpled as ever. The top two buttons on his shirt are undone, face looks beyond exhaustion, and… the fly of his trousers is opened. You are unable to hold a sly smile.

“Are you tired?” You greet, and Seokjin nods, sighing deeply. 

“Today was pretty shitty. A client was being a jackass as per usual.” Seokjin throws his bag on the table, taking off his suit. “I think I’m going to take a long hot shower. You can sleep first.”

You hum. “Okay. I turned up the water heater, so you can go in now.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.” Seokjin sighs in relief.

“You’re welcome. And Saturday, your father is having a birthday lunch and your mother asked us to come. Do arrange your schedule. And Seokjin?” You ask, and Seokjin looks up to you in confusion, waiting for you to continue.

“Your fly is open.”

“Fuck.” He curses and looks down, immediately zipping it close. “I hope I didn’t embarrass myself. And I swear it was nothing, I may have forgotten to close it in the restroom before going home.”

“It’s okay. You can do whatever you want, anyway.” You heartily giggle in amusement—with lots of subtle meaning behind words—settling back on your side of bed and hearing Seokjin softly closes the door behind him.

*

It’s already Friday, and somehow you still feel anxious. The day is closing soon, and tomorrow you’ll be meeting your in-laws for a family lunch, yet you are aware it’s not that simple. You have to pretend you have a real, conservative marriage with Seokjin, and it stresses you out. Not because you have to pretend to be in love—you’d rather think you’re relatively good at that, but having to lie to his parent’s face that Seokjin’s dick has ever entered you to get them a grandchild is nauseating.

“Why are you so tense, Y/N?” Hoseok chuckles, tapping your shoulder. “It’s Friday night. You should be all smiles.”

“Just meeting a few of my in-laws tomorrow. I’m a bit… nervous. That’s all.”

Jane who is sitting beside you immediately joins in. “Ah, that’s hard. My in-laws are jackasses, hence I’d rather steer clear from any family meetings. Why are you nervous? Are they annoying bastards as well?”

“No, they’re not like that.” You shake your head, confused on how to explain that you are not having a real marriage with Seokjin like most married couples. You’d rather not. “Well, I think I’m just having cold feet. That’s all.”

“You should come with us, then.” Hoseok offers with a whole ass large smile which shows his perfect teeth. “We’re having a drink tonight. No worry, we’re not going all the way to night. Just a slow one. You’ll be fine.”

That’s how you agreed to attend with a few of your peers, notably Hoseok and Jane who are your teammates, Namjoon from Legal, Jungkook from Accounting, and a few other friends you are only on name basis with. It surely started slow, and you gave Seokjin a short call before entering the bar. 

“Seokjin, hi. I’m out for drinks with friends, I’ll be a bit late, okay? But not too late though, only for two hours, three hours max.” You smile at Jungkook who is asking you to come. You gesture for him to enter before you. “I’ll give you a call when I’m done.”

“I see. Where are you drinking exactly?” He asks calmly. You quickly mention the name and address of the bar. “Okay. Let me know when you’ll be coming home, I’ll get you.”

“Ah, it’s okay! I think Hoseok or Jungkook can drive me home. No worry.”

“I see. Be safe, okay? And don’t get too hammered, we still have that lunch tomorrow.” Seokjin calmly reminds you. Probably due to the fact that you’re that quick to lose control, and the struggles he had to face on a regular basis to deal with drunk you.

Something inside you stirs at the remembrance of tomorrow’s event, but you quickly shrug it. You’re drinking to forget, anyway.  “Of course. See you!”

As it should’ve been easily predicted, you’re really loose with your alcohol control, especially with the great atmosphere and company. With Hoseok and Jane, one drink becomes two, and then four, and then in a blink, you lose count. You really should’ve predicted it, now drunkenly blabbering whatever inside your mind. Yet at once, you stumble on your seat and nearly fall until Jungkook catches you by the waist.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook checks up on you, staring at your blushing face, eyes hooded like completely feeling the alcohol dancing in your spine. “You look drunk, Y/N. Maybe you should cut the alcohol.”

“Yeah, I think I should.” You sigh, resting the glass back on the table. You rub your forehead. “I shouldn’t be drinking, since tomorrow I’m meeting my in-laws, and it’s.. fucking.. suck! You know why, Jungkook?” Jungkook shakes his head, amusement visible in his eyes while looking at you.

“Because they’ll keep asking about grandchildren.” You scoff. “They’ll keep wanting me to have a child, especially with the fact that Seokjin’s younger brother already has three of those. But how can I say it to them?”

“Why? Is there any reason you don’t want to have kids? Are you waiting?”

You hit the table with your fisted hand, aggrieved. “It’s not that. How can I when.. when.. I haven’t even had sex with my own husband?” 

“What?” Jungkook really couldn’t believe his ear. You have been married for more than two years and haven’t had sex with your husband? How is that even possible is beyond him. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Y/N.” 

Jungkook looks back at the source of the voice, finding Seokjin’s dark eyes looking at your figure, resting your head on the table. Jungkook immediately lets go of his hand on your skin. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s okay. She must be drunk.” Seokjin sighs, circling his hands around your waist. Not that he didn’t expect it, but he feels extremely uncomfortable with the fact that someone else is aware of your little arrangement, especially with it being someone he doesn’t even know besides a name. “I’ll take her now. Here.” He says, slapping a few bills for your drinks.

Not even muttering goodbyes for Jungkook or other drunk people on the table, Seokjin instantly takes you back to his car. A minute of silence he’s staring at your face, Seokjin lightly flicks your head in annoyance before taking off, after ensuring you’re well secured on the passenger side.

*

“I’m sorry.”

The moment you’re awake, the memory instantly hits you like a truck inside your throbbing head. Constantly shoving drinks up your throat, dancing with Jane and Hoseok, and little talk with Jungkook. You also faintly make out Seokjin’s face getting you from the bar in your memory—right before passing out. God, it’s totally a mess. You really should avoid drinks again at all costs now.

“Are you awake?” Seokjin calmly asks while stirring breakfast on the pan. You nod, standing beside him. “The soup will be ready in a second. You can get our plates.”

Realizing that the talk is about to happen, you silently follow his order and prepare a few of the utensils on the table. You sit down to wait for Seokjin to join, and when he does, you are still waiting for him to open the conversation. In the midst of eating in silence, Seokjin suddenly breaks the silence.

“Do you want to have a child?”

Out of shock, you literally choke on your soup, the liquid entered the wrong pipe. Yet even when tapping your back lightly, he still has the nerves to laugh. 

“That’s not funny!” You scowl in annoyance, gulping the water Seokjin offered. Your husband is a total jerk, you really should’ve known.

“It is. And I really need to know, since last night you were talking to your friend about our sexless marriage in such a heart wrenching manner I just had to ask.”

You are silenced in guilt with the mention of last night, resting back the glass. “It’s not like that.” 

Seokjin cocks his head. “So what is it like?”

“No, I was just stressed about the fact that our families are pressuring us to have a child.” You sigh, never actually telling Seokjin about the pressure on your shoulder. “My mother even once asked me to consult with Obstetricians if my eggs are not working. Why didn’t she doubt your sperm instead?! Annoying.”

“Y/N. You really should’ve told me if my mother and yours has been pressing you to have a child.” Seokjin speaks in good nature, even with a hint of scolding. “I will let her know that it’s our decision, and we’ll have kids whenever we are ready.”

You nod. “Thank you. And I’m very sorry, by the way. Yesterday was a bit much, I know.”

“It’s fine.” He says, tapping the top of your head. “I’ll take a bath first, and we’ll go about an hour. Okay?”

And as predicted, the one that welcomes you and Seokjin even from far is Taehyun, Taehyung’s five years old eldest son. He runs with his two little feet with a light shout of glee until he clings to Seokjin’s thigh. “Auntie! Uncle! Hi!”

“Hi, Taehyun! How are you?!” Seokjin instantly takes him by the waist, bringing him up to his grasp and kisses his lumpy cheek. You are unable to hide a swooned smile. “Are you a smart boy now? Have you made friends in kindergarten?”

“Of course!” He squeals, and proceeds to tell him about his exciting kindergarten stories. You walk in, immediately welcomed by Tasha, Taehyung’s wife in a bear hug. “Sister-in-law! How are you doing? You look great.”

“I’m fine, Tasha, thanks.” You giggle in delight. You have always been close with Tasha, as she is a wonderful woman and a good friend as well. “You look amazing. And god, that hair is exquisite.”

Tasha laughs while sheepishly fixing her hair of light purple highlights. “Got a few dirty looks from my boss and Taehyung’s mother, but it’s all worth it I guess. Who said mother of three can’t rock highlights, right?”

“Absolutely!”

“You two beautiful ladies should come in.” Seokjin’s father beams at the two, gesturing to enter the house. “My wife has already prepared loads and loads of food, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Happy birthday, father.” You smile, giving the old man a hug. “I hope this year is the best year that brings happiness to your life.”

“Well, a wish that this is not my last year in life is sufficient, but that is well welcomed as well.” He jokes, as the three of you enter the home. “Thanks anyway, Y/N. Greatly appreciated.”

“My granddaughters!” Your mother-in-law literally shouts, kissing you both on the cheek. “You both look amazing. My two sons should be thanking their lucky stars for having you both as a wife.”

“We are, mother. Every night.” Taehyung appears on your side, giving you a side hug of welcome. “How are you, sister-in-law? You’re doing great, right?”

“Amazing, Taehyung. Thank you for asking. I hope you’re well rested while taking care of the lovely miniatures of you.” You look at the three children, Taehyun, the twin Taejin and Taerin playing with their toys in the middle of the living room with your husband. 

“The sitter helps, of course.” Taehyung giggles, and Tasha elbows him with a scowl. Your mother quickly wraps the heart warming greetings and guides the whole family to be seated for the lunch prepared. And boy is the dining table packed with countless foods, not even including the dessert on the small table in the corner of the room. You just hope this won’t go to waste.

“No worries, we’ll be packing this as well to have it distributed to neighboring orphanages along with a few other donations.” Seokjin’s mother beams, sensing your worry after looking onto the countless plates.

An hour passes by quickly with the family digging on the delish in front of them. While chatting among themselves, Taehyung and Tasha hand their own gift to his father. “Here it is, father. Happy 65th birthday, hope you are always happy and healthy.” He beams, hugging his father. The large package is heavy on his hand, and your father in law laughs in glee.

It was a beautiful sight, yet you feel terribly uneasy. You haven’t gotten him anything, and Seokjin never discussed this before. How can you forget? God, you’ve really shame yourself and Seokjin in front of his family.

“What is this?” The old man questions and rips the wrapper.

“Open it.” Father quickly opens the package, and sees multiple items neatly stuffed in the box. “Healthy supplements and tea, warm jacket, acupuncture mat, few other things that can help you live longer.” Taehyung grins. The old man rolls his eyes, but nonetheless looks content with the gift.

“Thank you, son! Will put this into a good use.”

Amongst your panic of reaching out to Seokjin beside you, he instead takes turns in handing the gift of his own, an envelope, which catches you by surprise. He never talked about bringing a gift before. “This is from me and Y/N, father. Happy birthday.”

“What is this?” Your father curiously opens the envelope. At once, he literally squeals, unable to hide the delight in his face. “A two way ticket to Japan? Son, this is too much.”

“It’s not. It’s the least we can do for you and mother.” Seokjin says good-naturedly, like the precious son he is. You stare at him strangely. “Y/N and I also arranged a few stops that could be great to improve your health as well. No worries, there will be a guide as you’ll be on tour.”

“Thank you, son!” Your father and mother take turns hugging both you and Seokjin, and you only reply while in a hazen state, don’t know how or what to feel. As long as you know, it all comes from his pocket, and it’s his money to spend. You don’t even know why you feel weirded out. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Can you at least pretend my gifts are worthy too?” Taehyung jokes, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “The health supplements cost a fortune too, father! You’re being too mean with your reaction.”

“I’m just so happy my two sons are happy with their own family.” The old man beams in delight. “And your mother prepared a gift for you and Seokjin too, Y/N. Darling, you can give it to them, okay? I’m going to the restroom.”

“Why aren’t you giving it to me too?” Taehyung whines to his mother as Tasha elbows him for the nth time already. 

“You don’t get one because you don’t need it, Taehyung.” 

Seokjin’s mother quickly shoves you a gift with the largest of smiles, and truth to be told, you instantly feel uneasy. A gift in which you need and Taehyung don’t? An easy guess instantly comes to your senses. It must be it. There’s no other way.

“We’ll open this when we get home.” You turn your head to Seokjin, seeing how expressionless he has become. Is he angry? He swiftly takes the gift from you, resting it on the other side of the room.

“Ah, it’s good to. Just be careful using it, okay? It’ll be very helpful with the conception, trust me. It’s been passed down with generations.” Seokjin’s mother winks, looking very satisfied, yet you feel queasy, feeling like you’re soon puking your heart out. On your side, you can detect how silent Taehyung and Tasha have become, and you swear you never felt this pathetic and miserable before.

“Thank.. you.”

Seokjin holds you by the hand with his face is beyond enraged now—yet you know he could never be angry with his parents. He’s a mama's boy, and you like it that he is, but you really feel like going home and crying your heart out. But you have to endure longer hours feeling like total shit with your in-laws around.

“Father, mother, Y/N and I had to go home. I just remember we had stuff to do at home.” Seokjin curtly says, and you whip your head at him in surprise. You mostly did not expect it. 

“Why? You don’t really have to do it right now—but if you really have to, it’s okay.” Your mother giggles, content with the idea that you and your husband need to leave because both of you are going to fuck and give them grandchildren. God, your head literally throbs with the misunderstanding.

“Y/N, get to the car.” Seokjin mutters tensely, there is not a hint of emotion beside morse in his tone. “Mom, can we talk?”

“Seokjin, no.” You whisper while tugging on his sleeve. “Don’t do it.”

“Y/N, get to the car.” He repeats, like he is not up for any negotiation. You are scared of what he’s going to say to his mother. Is he going to say about the fact that your marriage is faux and is only done to please her? But that’s not what you want, just thinking about it makes you sick. “You can leave the gift here.”

Mildly confused at the sudden tense situation, your mother-in-law silently nods and complies to talk with her son. Against his order, you pick up the gift and move to give Taehyung, Tasha and their three children a parting hug. 

“Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Tasha worriedly says, and you nod with a strained smile. “Be safe in driving home.”

“We will. Taehyung, thanks.” You hug the pouting guy, as he gives you a squeezing hug of consolation. 

“Our parents can be prodding like that. I am very sorry.”

Walking back into the room finding the confusing tense, Seokjin’s father looks at you about to say goodbye. “Are you leaving?” 

“Yes. I’m afraid we have something coming up.” You forced a smile, yet you know your father-in-law completely understands the whole situation.

“Okay then. Give this old man a parting hug.” The kind man then hugs you dearly like you’re a daughter he never had. “Thank you for coming. And I’m very sorry.”

“It’s nothing! Everything is great.” Like an idiot, you still try to lie through your teeth in front of the wise man—it’s ridiculous. “Happy birthday, father.”

Walking inside Seokjin’s car, you patiently wait another ten minutes until he comes in with an unreadable expression. And when he sits beside you, he heave a deep breath. 

“Is everything okay? What did you say?” You fret in panic.

“Nothing much. That it’s already tough for both of us now, and we’ll have kids whenever we want to.” Seokjin hums, glancing at the gift his mother gave yet refusing to comment. “I’m very sorry that I haven’t realized this before. I know it must be stressing you out.”

“Not really. I’m just.. tired.” You hollowly laugh, Seokjin slowly taking off the house onto the street. Spending a few minutes staring at the gift secured on your lap, you mutter—more to yourself. 

“Do you think we should just have a child?” 

At the unexpected question, Seokjin glances at you. Next five minutes are spent in deep silence before...

“Do you love me?”

The questions really create a ripple of shock in your whole body. You literally have no idea whether he’s being serious or not.

“W-what?”

“I don’t want to have a child when both of us know there is no love here. We both don’t love each other.” Seokjin mutters lowly, eyes trained on the road. “Let’s not put more innocent people into misery.”

Misery.

Misery.

You don’t know why that word hurts more than you thought it would, coming out from Seokjin’s mouth.

*

As expected, the things between you and Seokjin have become pretty frosty. Sunday morning, he excused himself to go fishing with Yoongi—his best friend of ten years, and you were thankful that you do not have to waste another second in his presence. Being with him is hard enough, not that you have to be reminded of the hurtful things he said.

Misery.

Yes, misery indeed. Having to marry someone you don’t have feelings for. 

But you thought he was a friend. Not that you chained him into this, and he was the one asking your hand in loveless marriage. He is being a total jackass. And you never should’ve said such nonsense. Having a child with someone you don’t love? Seriously? Even couples in love can end up in divorce because of kids—much less your ridiculous marriage.

And it sucks that this suffocates your whole being yet you can’t tell anyone, since nobody really knows you don’t have any attachment to your husband.

Well, beside...

“Hello? Is this Y/N?”

Listening to the velvety voice on the other side of the call, you instinctively gulp. Are you seriously going to talk to someone about this, more less Jeon Jungkook? You must be quite desperate. “Hi, Jungkook! I’m sorry to interrupt you. Is this.. an alright time?”

Jungkook chuckles on the other side. “Well, not really, but I can make it alright for you.”

You groan, instantly retracting your own will to talk about it to him. “You seriously did not just flirt with a married woman, right?”

“Of course not! Who do you take I am.” He giggles in mirth, and you roll your eyes. You really made a mistake by calling him. “I’m a bit busy now, but will be free in around… an hour. Do you want to meet?”

“I didn’t exactly say what I wanted to ask for.”

“I just know.” Jungkook hums, and you literally can imagine his annoying smirk on the other side of the call. “I’ll text you the details.”

You spend another seconds in silence, but reply nonetheless. There’s no harm in meeting a friend. Right? 

“Sure.”

*

“So let me get this straight. You—in this advanced, 21st century—agreed to a marriage where the both of you don’t even have little bit of interest in marriage? And all because your parents want you to?”

Now that Jungkook is saying it in front of your face, it does sound foolish.

“Is it.. weird?”

“What the fuck, Y/N. It’s not just weird. It’s crazy.” Jungkook scoffs, feeling the firsthand headache of dealing with the situation you are currently in. “I don’t know how much of a good daughter you are, but this is nuts. You are seriously chaining yourself to a relationship just out of pity, and because of someone else. You know that phrase ‘having only love is not enough in marriage’? You don’t even have that.”

Your eyebrows furrow, quite dejected that Jungkook really has to phrase it like that. The urge to defend yourself rushes unto you. “Yes, I know what we are doing now is silly, but I actually have no regret. Seokjin is a great guy, a good companion as well, and it’s basically just a living arrangement. I’m good.”

He sighs at your stubbornness. “You know, you could’ve been with someone else that you truly love. Did you realize that?”

“I won’t.” You answer almost instantly, doting the cheesecake in the middle of your table. “I’m not interested. I am living well on my own, and I don’t really think I have anyone for me. I am comfortable with myself.”

“And why’d you trade that precious solitude of yours with someone you don’t even love?” Jungkook challenges, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Because if that’s how I can make someone else happy, I would.” You answer, looking back at Jungkook’s prodding eyes. “My mother, my father, have taken care of problematic me since I was a little kid. And now all they wanted is for me to have someone that cares for me, and who I deeply care for. And if getting married is the only way they can live and die happily… I’d do anything.”

Jungkook is easily silenced at your unexpected outburst, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder after saying what you truly feel to someone else. It feels almost relieving, the fog living in your shoulder lightens.

“But you know they’d truly be disappointed if you are lying to them, right? Lying that you are happy. Lying that you love your husband.” He observes you in concern. You smile lopsidedly.

“Well, maybe in my case, a little white lie won’t hurt.” You whisper to yourself, sipping on your beverage.

*

After hanging out a bit longer with Jungkook, you found yourself comfortable being around him. He is a great guy, albeit annoying and too curious for his own good, he is nice and easy to talk to. You were never really close to him, and usually a rather closed person, but Jungkook is too good at getting you out of your shell. 

Walking out from his car, you are stunned when finding Seokjin is also getting out of his own, about to enter your apartment building. He mirrors your expression, a paper bag filled with foods and in his right grasp is his favorite donuts box. 

“Hi.” He greets with cocked eyebrows. “I bought meat to cook for dinner.”

“Ah, I already ate dinner.” You guiltily scratch your nape, glancing to the car beside you. Jungkook is just about to drop you off, but you have no idea why he is not leaving yet. “You went home from Yoongi’s?”

“Yes.” Seokjin points to the car. “Who is it? Did you meet with friends?”

“Yes. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. But he’s just about to leave—”

“Hi man.” Jungkook is somehow already standing right beside you as you flinch in your spot, and he offers his hand. “I guess I never properly introduced myself. I’m Jungkook, Y/N’s workmate.”

“Ah, Jungkook. We met before, right? I am sorry, yesterday was quite chaotic, I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Jin smiles benevolently, shaking the younger man’s hand. “I’m Seokjin, the husband. Do you want to come in? I’m cooking steak for dinner.”

“Nah, I already had dinner with Y/N. But I’ll take you up on that, though. Let’s get dinner another time.” Jungkook agrees, and gives you a light tap in the back as a goodbye. “Got to go, but I’ll see you Monday!”

“Bye, Jungkook.” You reply meekly and turn back to Seokjin, staring back at you with a strange expression. “Are you good?”

“Yup.” Seokjin smiles impartially, shifting his expression. “Let’s get in, you’ll catch a cold.”

*

In a way, Seokjin realizes that something changes with you ever since coming back from his father’s birthday party. You were usually a chirpy, active person, unbothered to speak your mind, talking about Hoseok or your patronizing boss and made the apartment as loud as possible with your late night exercise—yet here you are, silently sitting down on your side of bed, watching your favorite series from phone. 

And you clearly stated how you hate watching with your phone that he knows you are avoiding him—not wanting him to join watching it with you in the living room. And what irks him is this passive aggressive thing has been going on since last week, and it’s already Thursday. He desperately needs the old you back.

“Why are you watching it on the phone?” Seokjin asks, a vague irritation slipped in his tone. “The TV is good to watch. And you hate watching it on the phone.”

You are confused to say the least, blinking your eyes at him. Your finger pauses the show. He remembers that? “Uh.. I’m just… feeling like laying in bed while watching. Is there something wrong?”

“No, don’t lie to yourself now. You are clearly avoiding me.” Seokjin hisses, unable to hide anymore of his annoyance. “And this has been going on for a week. You didn’t even let me know if you’re coming home, and rejected that one time I said I’ll get you from the office. What’s wrong?”

“I told you it’s nothing. My work is the opposite direction of your way to home. It’ll be easier to go home directly.” You reason stubbornly, trying to make sense—even if you know you really are avoiding him. You don’t want to let him know that you are hurt by the things he said, and to be frank, looking at him pissess you off a bit. Like right now.

“Y/N, you know that we are too old for this shit. You need to tell me right now if I did something wrong.” He states earnestly. You roll your eyes, not feeling to drag the conversation and position yourself back to watching.

“You did nothing wrong. It’s just me, maybe I’m going on menopause.”

Seokjin huffs, looking at you already settling back to watching—yet he is too determined to end all this bullshit that he discards the phone you’re watching onto the bed. You gape at him, dumbfounded that he really did that to get your serious attention. “Stop being a child and talk to me like adults.” He scowls.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I told you It’s nothing.” You shout, trying to get your phone back yet missing due to Seokjin’s quick wit of taking and hanging it far above his head. And poor you, that are seriously no match to his height.

“Give me back my phone, you jerk!”

“Might be a jerk but at least I’m not a 30 years old woman having menopause.” He mocks your nonsense, yet you are too resentful to give a shit that you literally climb on bed and jump to leech your whole weight on him like a freaking koala. Seokjin literally yells at your attempt of getting stable by clutching on his hair, pulling it to whichever direction you prefer. “Ah, get off me! It hurts and you’re heavy!”

“I don’t care! You’re being a jerk, and I’m a misery anyway, right? I’m just fulfilling my duties!” You howl, shaking your body that he shrieks, losing his balance and falls on your large bed. And like how most sleazy cringy telenovela, he just had to settle on top of you, but for one teeny different, his whole weight is now crushing your being like a sweet revenge. 

“Get off me! You’re heavy.” You screech like a petulant child, punching the guy on his broad ass shoulder. After a whole minute of finally begging him to get off, Seokjin finally gets on his elbow, giving a bit of space for you to breathe.

“I apologize that I upset you.” He gazes at you in all sincerity that literally leaves you holding your breath. “It was not true when I said that misery thing. You are not a misery. You are a blessing. The fact that we are married could be the greatest thing that happens to me, and I’ll never trade it for anything else.”

You are silenced, waiting for him to continue. “I was just pissed off with myself that I was insensitive about how everyone is pressuring you, and you are struggling because of this. I actually never thought about those snarks, and I thought you would too.” Seokjin softly claims, and you are near to tears that he literally speaks like honey. “I just thought it was off limits. I guess we should’ve talked more about this before.”

You sigh, looking down. “I do think so. And I’m sorry too—I guess I should’ve just said what’s bothering my mind.” You breathe out with a hint of guilt. “I’m sorry for acting like this. I guess that misery thing just got to me more than I thought it would, and.. yeah. Let’s communicate better.”

“We should.” He hums in delight. “You are cuter when you are less grumpy. You know that?”

“I am cute in any way possible.” You sassily reply, expecting a snarky comment as retaliation yet Seokjin’s lips curl in amusement.

“Well, I can’t comment on that.” He beams, and at that  your heart literally skips a beat. or two. or more than you can count. “I want to watch what you’re watching. Let’s watch it on the TV, your eyes must be hurting doing all these grumpy behavior.”

“Yeah, I do think so. It’s like.. exhausting.” You rub your temple. “I hate being crabby.”

“Yes. It doesn’t suit you. At all.” Seokjin pulls both your cheeks in different directions with sparkling eyes. You groan. “So don’t do that to your husband, okay?”

At that, you peer at him silently while he’s searching the series you love on the TV. The way he is able to easily soothe you is.. pissing you off.

“By the way, a new movie is premiering next week and I bought us a ticket. Wanna watch it with me?” He turns to you, still with the same adorable smile. And it literally sucks that something weakens inside you at that smile.

Ugh, there’s gotta be something wrong with you.

*

Another week goes and there you are, Thursday night about to head out after a whole day of work. Tidying your desk, suddenly a voice stops your wandering mind—it belongs to your desk mate.

“Why are you so happy today? You’re all whistling and it starts creeping me out.” Hoseok snickers, suddenly peering close to you. “Did you get a good dick down yesterday?”

“What the hell, Hoseok?” You groan, closing your laptop with a loud thump. “It’s not it. Can’t a girl just be happy without any reason?”

“No. That means you're crazy. And it’s coming from Y/N, the grumpies person on the planet.” Jane titters, joining your conversation. You started to doubt what kind of connection they had whenever it concerns you. “You must had a good sex yesterday. You know, I am curious on how Seokjin is in bed. Is he a bit dom? Looks a bit kinky, I have to say.”

“Of course! The way he acts is a complete giveaway, he must have a choking kink, or maybe bondage. Daddy kink is absolutely, by default.” Hoseok responds with curiosity. Jane snickers as you are busy gasping for air.

“And his dick?! You know, the first time I saw him, I immediately knew this guy has a big dick energy. I bet his is girthy—”

“Shut up!” You literally stop her from speaking, your palm secured to close on her mouth—yet unable to manage the blush weeping your whole face to neck. You feel hot and bothered. “Stop talking about such things! I am just in a good mood. Ugh, you two are seriously perverts.”

“Yes, okay, we’ll stop before you burst your flaming ear.” Hoseok singsongs, utterly amused by your reaction. You shot him a look. “By the way, tomorrow is a long weekend. Do you both have any plans?”

“Besides taking care of my child? Nah, bro. Might have sex if he’s lucky and stop running his mouth too much. And we had to stay in my husband’s family house. Ugh.” Jane rolls her eyes whilst taking her own belongings. “I’m just happy we get to have dinner tonight. Tomorrow is going to be exhausting as fuck.”

“Dinner? What dinner?” You are weirded out, most absolutely did not expect to promise any dinner. 

“My birthday dinner, of course!”

You whip your head towards the guy in a fancy red suit, completely looking dashing and silly at the same time. Well, that’s what you expect of him anyway, wearing such eye catching outfit in the middle of workday. “I sent the invites this Monday, and you said yes, Y/N.” He continues. “And you didn’t even congratulate me! How mean. But I’ll let you off since you’re cute.”

“But—but, I can’t! I have something else to do..” You stutter. Jungkook furrows his eyebrows at you.

“What? Watching netflix and eating popcorn? Nah, bro. You’re coming.”

“But, I’m serious! I’m sorry, but Seokjin is already downstairs, and he’s waiting for me. I can’t.. just leave him behind.” You weren’t going to say this, but Seokjin said he was craving lobster and asked you to go on a dinner with him. You really didn’t remember you had agreed to an appointment before with your workmate.

Jungkook stares at you in mild surprise. “He’s in the lobby? What happened with the two of you? I thought—”

“What are you saying, Jungkook? Isn’t it normal for a husband to get her wife from work?” Hoseok chuckles, and at once Jungkook is like awakened from his hallucination. 

“Yes, of course. My bad.” He nervously chuckles, avoiding Hoseok’s eyes. “But he should come! It’s only going to be the four of us, and Namjoon. He’s waiting in the lobby too.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a great idea…”

“Seokjin should come! It would be fun, you know. I want to have dinner with him.” Jane smirks, and you sigh loudly, knowing that this would end in a huge disaster and you’ll end up regretting. Yet you find yourself thinking of what to say to Seokjin. 

“Hi, Seokjin!”

Seokjin opens his window, smiling courtesy at Jane standing beside you. You remember Seokjin met few of your friends from work before. “Hi, Jane! Nice seeing you again. Are you heading home?”

“Not really. We are going to a restaurant! With Y/N too. You should come.”

He laughs, glancing at you. “Really? You didn’t say you had something to do.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot.” You frown in guilt. “It’s okay, I know we had plans—”

“No, I didn’t say that. We can come to the dinner with your friends too, if you want.” Seokjin chuckles, smiling dearly at you. You feel your breath hasten under his ministry. “Do you want that?”

Clearing your throat, you answer in nerves. “Yes, please. I promised to attend before, I guess I just forgot and thought I am free tonight.”

“Ah, I guess that’s why you’re all sooo chirpy today, aren’t you, Y/N?! I thought your teeth were about to fall off.” Jane beams, exhilarated as she elbows you. “Turns out you have a special occasion with your husband and forgot Jungkook’s birthday dinner.”

“That’s not it.” You glare at her, but she shrugs meaningfully.

“Okay, you two should head out. I’m with Hoseok.” Jane smiles and points at the blue car which you identify as Hoseok’s. “See you guys in a few minutes!”

“Sure.”

There is only silence in the car, when suddenly Seokjin breaks it with a question.

“Is it for Jungkook? That Jungkook—your friend that we met on our apartment?”

You don’t know what’s wrong, but your gut is telling you something is strange with his tone. You clear your throat of sheer awkwardness. “Yes. Today is his birthday, so he said he’d treat us to dinner.”

Seokjin seems uncomfortable. Living together for nearly two years has made you well aware of his small habit and gestures—by the way he clings on his collar, fingers tightening on the wheel as if he’s scared just shows you how he truly feels. At once, you quickly rests your palm on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Are you okay? You look.. nervous. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Waiting for the red light, he heaves a deep breath and closes his eyes. His right hand settles on your hands which were on his shoulder, linking each finger. “I’m fine.” Seokjin sighs deeply, resting both your linked fingers on his thigh. 

“I’m fine.” He repeats.

Now all you can hear is your own irregular heartbeat, with his warm palms against yours. 

And you wonder. What the hell is wrong with yourself?

After arriving, Seokjin still doesn’t let your hand go. And it’s all kinds of confusing, two years of marriage he never acts like now. Not even when going to your parents house, and it leaves you with numerous questions. And with that particular look on his face—it scares the shit out of you.

“Ah, here comes the couple!” Jane giggles, pointing to the empty seats beside her. “You can sit here. Seokjin, meet Namjoon! He’s in Legal.”

Like that, all your friends are engaged in a conversation—while Seokjin, he’s sitting silently with heads hanging low. You glance at him, concerned. “Hey, are you okay? You look a bit off. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Yes, your husband looks like he’s not really good. Is there anything wrong?” It is Jungkook, resting his wine back on the table. All of the eyes are now on the both of you. “Does this not work for you?”

“No, I’m sorry. Just a bit on the edge, that’s why. Don’t worry.” Seokjin smiles thinly, tapping his palm on the table. You nod hesitantly, regardless of the strangely tense air with him.

Whilst ordering, you are skimming on the menu when Jungkook jumps in. “Y/N, you like the shrimp here, right? You should order it.”

“Yes, I am thinking that too.” You tap your chin, and turn to Seokjin who is still staring far at the menu. “But I want to try the duck too. Seokjin, can’t you order that too? I don’t want to eat too much, I just want to have a bite.”

Seokjin is about to answer when Jungkook jovially interrupts, “Hey, there’s no need for that. You can order all you want. But if you insist, I’m ordering the duck, so you can have mine.”

“It’s okay, I’m having what my wife asked me to. Since I’m her husband. ” Seokjin curtly responds, and you are flabbergasted at how discourteous he sounded. The conversations on the table ended abruptly. 

“I—I see. Suit.. yourself.” Jungkook blinks his eyes, completely bewildered at the hostile response. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be forward.”

You stare at him with multiple emotions rushing inside of you, yet he’s evidently trying to avoid it while shoving drinks down his throat like there’s no tomorrow. 

“You’re driving tonight.” Seokjin mutters to you between drinks, and it sounds more like an order to your ear. There’s definitely something off with him, and you’re terrified of finding out. You’re scared if it will change him, you, and what you both had together.

*

“Are you going to be okay?”

Jungkook glances in concern at your drunk husband beside you, his hand is at the top of your car while you’re on the driver side. “He’s drunk. You sure you’re going to be okay? I can come with you.”

“No, it’s fine.” You reply. “I think he’s just not in a mood today. There must be something at work, I’ll try asking this tomorrow.”

“But I don’t like how jealous he was at me. I was just.. trying to be kind and offer to help. As a friend. And he immediately snaps like that.” Jungkook scowls in irritation. “It was borderline obsessive. And it’s not like you married for love—”

“Jungkook.” You stop him with reprimanding eyes that he stops immediately. 

“I’m sorry.” He lets out a deep breath. “I never told you—or anyone about this, but my sister is a divorcee. Because her husband became obsessed with her.” You know where he is heading and are about to rebut, yet he continues. “I know what you want to say, but I’m just saying this so you’d know. They were in love. But you know it could easily turn to something else.”

“Thank you for your advice, but I know it won’t happen to me—Seokjin is not like that.” You mumble, somehow reminding yourself. It’s the first time Seokjin is like this, both of you were great at keeping boundaries, and were not even in love. You’ll be fine.

Jungkook sighs and smiles weakly, brushing the top of your head. 

“I hope so too. Get home safe, kid.”

*

Waking up, the first thing Seokjin feels is his pulsate, a straight pang to his head. It’s been a long time since he had let himself off the limit and trashed himself until he blacked out, and he regrets every single second. The hazy memory starts to invade his mind—about how rude he had been yesterday, especially to you—and it literally freaks him out that he jumps out of his bed, desperate to explain. But you are not sleeping beside him. Or anywhere in the apartment. 

“Fuck.” Seokjin hisses, bringing his phone and runs to the elevator in such hurries. 

Are you... possibly gone?

“Seokjin, what are you doing here?”

“Y/N. Where have you been?” He questions, a little bit loud.  He’s too caught tapping the elevator button that he doesn’t realize the other lift is opened with you walking out, soaking with sweat. “I wake up and you’re not there. You.. I thought you..”

“What did you think? I was just running a few laps since yesterday’s dinner was a bit much.” You shrug nonchalantly, taking off your earphone. “Aren’t you dizzy after waking up? You shouldn’t be out, though.”

Walking back to your apartment, Seokjin is trailing behind you like a disgruntled puppy—keeping his head down low as both his hands are clasped. “I’m very very sorry, Y/N..”

“What are you sorry for?” You ask, pretending nonchalance. Seokjin sits beside you with a frown on his face. 

“I was being a jerk yesterday? And I drank too much and you must have a hard time dealing with my sorry ass.” 

“Did anything happen? Can I know why you were so pissed off?” You ask carefully, afraid of invading his space. He shrugs.

“Something bothered my mind, that's all. Don’t worry about it.”

Seeing how sullen he has been with himself, you are unable to pull both his chubby cheeks to different directions. He groans loudly with each pull. “Yes, you were such a ill-tempered baby yesterday when you were drunk. Do you know that?”

He nods begrudgingly. “Yes, mother. I won’t do it again.”

“But apologizing isn’t going to solve anything. You know it.” You pretend sulk. “I think I deserve three wishes.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrows. “Why? Why does it have to be three?” 

“Nah, I watched Alladin and it was good, so I was just copying—but that’s not the point!” You tap the table impatiently. “The point is that you embarrassed me in front of my friend and deserves a punishment. Now say yes to my three wishes.”

Your husband groans, tapping on his forehead. “God, I’m never drinking again. What? What is it that you want?”

“I haven’t really thought about it, actually..” You giggle while scratching your head. Seokjin squint his eyes at you in suspicion. “Can you give me a week to think about it?”

“No.”

“Five days?”

“Right now. Take it or leave it.”

“Okay, by tomorrow!”

“Three wishes all by the end of this day.”

“Fine! You are annoying.” You scowl, tapping your forefinger on your chin. Seokjin grins. “First, I want…lobster for lunch.” 

“Okay.” He holds the laughter upon remembering his yesterday’s request.

“And I want this new bag. I saw it on the newest catalogue yesterday, I want one. Buy it for me.” You send him a sugary smile.

“I see your wishes are getting more and more disproportionate.” 

You scoff. “But you promised to grant it!”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to grant it.” Seokjin rolls his eyes, resting his palm on your shoulder, skimming it until his finger hangs to yours. Your breath hitches at how it practically tickles your whole being. “Is that all? Are you saving one for now?”

“Y-yes.” You stutter, mind already turning blank that you forgot your last wish.

“Good.” Seokjin beams, swiping his thumb on your knuckles. You stare through his eyes, adoring the beautiful twinkle that sends butterflies knocking on your stomach. How could he affect you like this?

W-wait, are you hallucinating or he is really closing in right now? I-is he.. about to kiss you?

Against your expectation, he suddenly halts and snorts. “Now go take a bath, because you stink.”

You push him away, walking to enter your bathroom with a face that has gone vermillion red—especially listening to his annoying squeaky laughter from the living room. You feel terribly embarrassed. 

Did you really think he’s about to kiss you? And why the fuck do you have to act like a preteen girl having a crush on a classmate? This is literally super annoying how your body is acting strange—like you don’t even have control.

Ugh, you should never done anything dangerous with him again.

*

After having lunch in the lobster place, you and Seokjin drive to the cinema for the movie he pre-ordered last week. Sitting side by side with him, you find yourself hesitating. 

You want to hold his hand so damn much.

And this never happened to you before. Watching with him always ends up with both of you pretending to fight for the popcorn, and you’ll be far apart from each other—just like you’re watching alone. The movie’s genre is thriller and suspense, yet horror didn’t even take it for you to finally lean into him or anyone, yet that evening, you want to hold him. 

Closing in, you feel his shoulder closing on yours, leaning onto him as support. Seokjin looks at you in concern. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Y-yes! I’m fine, I just—“

“Is this movie boring for you? Or are you cold? You want more popcorn or drink?” He queries in concern at your jumpiness.

“No.” You murmur, embarrassed at your own thought. Fuck, what were you thinking? There is no possible reason at all on why you want to hold him, it’s not making any sense and it irks you on how conflicted you’re feeling. “I just… nothing.”

Glancing at you, Seokjin sees how you’re mouthing to yourself and hitting your own forehead with a deep frown—and he couldn’t bite his smile back. With one fluid motion, he loops his arms with yours and withers your small palm against his, tapping slightly the side of his head with yours. 

“Let me know if you need anything else. Hmm?”

You blush hard, the creep of warmth running in your cheek like a wildfire. Clearing your throat, you decide to focus on whatever scene it is, not realizing how Seokjin glances at you from time to time, a toothy smile creeping in his face.

Walking out of the place, you were a bit panicked on seeing Seokjin again in broad light, but he’s still not letting go of your hands around his. You don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not—maybe you’re just afraid of finding out.

“Do you want to go window shopping? Maybe you’ll find that bag you want.” Seokjin offers, you are about to discard him—telling who the hell is still window shopping these days, or your desired bag is already on your online shopping cart, yet you don’t want to say so.

Maybe you just want to be with him a little bit longer.

Walking hand in hand to around the mall, both of you stop at the high end brand stores. Seokjin is about to walk in when you stop him. “Why are we entering this place? This is out of our budget.”

“Who said I want to buy you the bag from here? I want to see it for myself.” Seokjin lightly jokes, blowing raspberries and you scowl. Contrary to what he just said, Seokjin is directing you to the female side, where the tote bags are stacked. You laugh silently. Is he trying to be a tsundere now?

He looks at you and warmly smile. “See if there’s anything you like. I’m going to the restroom first, okay?”

You squint your eyes at him in fake suspicion. “You’re not leaving me here and fleeing home, right?”

“Busted.” He giggles and you grin. “Wait here, I’ll come back in a minute.”

After Seokjin leaves, you find yourself walking to see the bags in hesitance. Yet you know how expensive they are, and it even scares you to fall in love with a bag and realizing how struggling Seokjin has to be to buy it for you. The thought immediately retrains you from taking the tawny colored bag which catches your eyes the most.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

You look back at the voice calling your name, and finding the person that hasn't even crossed your mind to be there. It’s Park Jimin, with his trademark eye smile peering curiously at you. “It is you! How have you been?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, a little bit surprised to see him here, even talking to you. Well, maybe the years of your troubling childhood does have its own reminder in the form of this man. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Ah, yes. After moving from Busan to Seoul, I am just living my life, I guess. Got engaged a few years ago, my fiancé and I moved to Sydney for school, and I headed back for the time being for her.” He smiles jovially, letting you know things more than you expect him to. You nod with a hint of hesitation—a bit surprised that he’s still practically the same him from your childhood. Guess nothing really changes to a spoilt kid from birth. 

“Honey, I have five items already on the cashier, won’t you—who is this?”

The woman is peering closely at you, the evident staring feels deadly uncomfortable on your skin. You know that look—she is judging you from top to bottom, whether you qualify as someone she should feel competitive with. But you don’t really want to spoil your great mood from the morning and reply nonetheless. “I’m Y/N, an old friend of Jimin. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi.” She responds rudely, and turns to Jimin. “Aren’t we going after paying?”

“Wait, I still want to talk with her. You can use this.” Jimin opens up his wallet, giving her a card and she leaves almost immediately. “I’m sorry, she can be like that sometimes.”

You shrug nonetheless. “I can see that.”

Ignoring your obvious sarcasm, Jimin continues. “So, where are you going? Do you want to have dinner with us? We should meet up again sometimes, you know—“

“Y/N.”

Turning to the man calling your name, it turns out to be your husband, staring at the both of you with jaw ticked and cold stare. And Jimin is no different, completely startled with the fact that it is Seokjin calling your name. At once, you feel estranged with the tense in the air.

“Seokjin. Hi, this is Jimin, my old friend. Jimin, this is Seokjin, my husband.”

Seokjin is the one to answer, tone blunt. “I know.”

After long pregnant silence, Jimin clears his throat, and gives your husband a thin smile. “Hi Seokjin. Nice to see you again.”

“You two know each other?” You glance at both men with curiosity written in your face.

“Yes, Jimin was my junior in college. We were friends.” Seokjin answers with venom, and nobody can miss the way he pronounced the past tense. Jimin seems uncomfortable as well, trying to ignore the older guy and smiles at you.

“I didn’t know you’re married. When was the wedding? Why wasn’t I invited?” He laughs to discard the tense air, yet you can still sense the awkwardness coloring his tone.

“Ah, around two years ago, I think. My mother gave yours the invitation, but I guess it doesn’t work. It’s fine.” You shrug, keeping your courtesy no matter how much you want to shout what the fuck is going on with those two men.

“I am sorry, but I’ll send a gift your way. It’s very impolite of us.” Jimin offers kindly, but Seokjin cuts straight away.

“We don’t need it. Save your money to whom it belongs.”

You glare at Seokjin who is throwing his sight somewhere else. He never was impolite like this, and it stresses you out—the fact that you’re kept in the dark makes you feel like you’re basically second to nothing between the two of them. 

“Seokjin? Is that you?”

Jimin’s fiancé comes back with countless bags in her hand, and you can hear the loud enough snicker from Seokjin. “Ah, as expected.”

The girl looks surprised, to say the least. “What are you doing here? With her? Who is this girl?” 

At the condescending tone, you immediately turn defensive. She had no reason to talk to you and Seokjin like that. “Excuse me?” 

“Baby, don’t be like that. Y/N here is Seokjin’s wife.” Jimin murmurs softly to his fiancé, and the bitch still has the nerves to scoff with a sleazy smirk.

“Ah, finally. I am glad you finally got your shit together, stopped thinking about me and moved on.” She loops her hand around Jimin, rising her chin high. Your jaws are a second away from falling to the ground. What the hell is going on?! “And are you sure you can go here? Isn’t this too expensive for you?”

“What the fuck—”

You are ready to throw hands, but Jimin quickly pulls her away and so is Seokjin’s hands clasped on yours to hold you back. 

“Stop it. Let’s just go home.”

Hanging his head low, both of you walk to the parking lot in deafening silence. Seokjin’s face is now cloudy and dark, nose and eyes are turned red and you know he is this close to crying. You chest stings at how much in pain he seems. You have so many questions, yet you know he needs more time to figure out his own.

Trying to reach the car keys from his pocket, he can’t seem to find it and somehow ends up choking his own tears. Feeling terrible on how he must feel, you go to his side, helping him check his other pocket. “I’ll drive.” You softly say to him after, and he silently goes to the passenger side.

Night comes, and you stare at your bedroom door. Seokjin has been holed up inside the room after you both went home, and did not come out even for a drink. You knew he needed space, and you stayed in the living room to watch your series, but it’s been too long that you are on alert since this has never quite happened before.

You wake up from your seat, walking to the kitchen as you are about to prepare dinner. Mushing up your doubtful cooking skill, you cook a chicken pasta and union ring, even called his favorite donuts on delivery.

After all the food is ready, you knock on the door. “Seokjin, dinner is ready. Come out, will you?”

“I am not really hungry.” He answers softly, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t kid me, we both know you are never not hungry.” Your joke is met with no response. “Are you really going to be like this? Come out and let’s have dinner. I already cooked for us.”

A moment of silence. “Are you sure it’s edible?”

You scowl, albeit kind of relieved that his sarcasm is still in place. “It’s not, but I’m still going to shove it down your throat until you’re begging me to stop.”

Seokjin ends up coming out, and you immediately frown at him. His face is disheveled, eyes bloodshot red, trail of tears on both his cheek and his hair is all over the place. 

“Hey, you look ugly.”

He scoffs. “Thank you for the encouragement.”

“I am serious! You look uglier than that time we went to Bali and you shit yourself because of eating too much spices.” You giggle, and Seokjin hisses. Your way of consoling people is indeed very debatable. 

“I remembered Bali. Such a great time.” Regardless, Seokjin smiles fondly at the memory. It was for your honeymoon slash not really a honeymoon, since all you did was to spend your work’s wedding free leave. You and Seokjin registered for Bali’s backpacker packet where both of you were able to explore the true nature and culture of Bali, instead of staying in a five star hotel and fucking till dawn like most honeymoon. It was breathtaking, to say the least.

After settling on the dining table, you scoop a portion and hand it to him. “Eat. I also ordered your favorite donuts, it will be here in a few minutes.”

Seokjin gives you a thankful smile, acknowledging your effort to make him feel better. 

After a whole half an hour of eating in silence, you open a conversation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He looks to you, and lower his sight back to his plate. “This is good.”

You sigh, folding your hands on the table. Seokjin might feel uncomfortable and you understand he needs time, but you also know that he needs to share it with someone else, or the feeling will drown him instead. “You know, there is no good keeping it inside.” You breath out. “I want to know what happened with you.”

A few minutes of silence. “How do you know Jimin?” He asks instead.

“He was my childhood friend in Busan, before his father hit it big and they moved to Seoul. We used to play together. He was a classmate, and my only friend at that time.”

Seokjin cocks his eyebrow. “Only that? Why does it seem like it’s not just friends? Like he really is glad to see you.” 

You shrug. “Yeah, it was.. kind of weird. You know how kids were. We were really close, and I kind of confessed… that I liked him before he went away.”

A particular hit on the plate causes you to flinch, a deep frown on Seokjin’s supple lips. “But it was in the past, right?” He confirms with no hint of playing, and you feel something settle strangely in your chest. 

Is it possible that he is jealous?

You chase the thoughts away and curtly reply. “Of course. I was 10 for god’s sake, I didn’t even really like him.” 

“I don’t even know why you like the guy. Was Busan really lacking in handsome boys?” Seokjin grumbles, munching soundly on the onion ring. “You should have seen me when I was a kid, I bet you’ll like me instead. I've been handsome since I was even a baby.”

“I’ve seen your schoolbook photo, but I’ll just go with whatever you say.” You giggle on his nonsense—even though he’s clearly not lying. He’s probably the most handsome person you’ve laid your eyes upon, that it was quite surprising he didn’t decide to fuckboy himself and settle down with you instead. 

Ten minutes pass in silence before you continue. “Can I say my last wish?” You ask carefully. Seokjin nods, a bit uncertain.

“Tell me what happened? With Jimin. And his fiancé too.” You hum, fidgeting with your fingers. “I just wanted to know, but it is okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

Seokjin sighs, rests his utensils and drinks the water before continuing. “It’s just.. hard. His wife, Dakyung was actually my girlfriend for a long time. We’ve been together since high school. At that time, she wasn’t really well off—his parents are struggling financially, but I was more than glad to support her getting the money to support her family.”

“We were together for like eleven years, I guess? I loved her very much, we’ve been through nearly everything and stood strong. I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I only wanted her. Being with anyone else never crossed my mind.” He softly explains, yet you don’t know why you feel yourself constricting with every word. It’s hurting you to see how pained he was, the beautifully carved words meant for someone else. “So around four years ago, I think? I bought an engagement ring for her. I was going to propose—but I guess you know the rest.”

“Did she.. cheat on you?” You ask carefully. Seokjin stares at you and nods, sadness written all over his face.

“I just found out when I was going to surprise her in her apartment. She… was in bed with.. Jimin.”

“What?!” You shouts in disbelief. “Jimin, your college friend fucked your girlfriend of eleven years?”

“Yes, and I don’t know what happened too, but at that time what I remembered was Jimin pleading for her to break up with me, and she said yes, asking for him to wait for the right time. But who am I kidding? It was a good choice at her part. Jimin is crazy rich, handsome and good too. Anything a girl wants, right?”

“Hey, don’t be like that.” You mutter, resting your palm over his as a consolation. “Money is not everything, and she’s trading that for eleven years of happiness with you. It’s her loss.”

“Maybe it’s not, Y/N. At that time, I realized that maybe it was indeed my fault. I, like a fucking fool, still wanted to be better for her. Even after I knew she was cheating on me, I tried holding on to her, so the next day I asked her to meet me and still proposed. I would do anything to make her happy. And as expected, she rejected me.”

“Seokjin…” You whisper, a tear welling on the corner of your eyes on how broken he must have felt.

“She immediately eloped with Jimin, and both moved to Sydney for school. But I guess in a way, I’ve never moved on. I was always trying to contact her, sending her emails or messages until she had enough and blocked me. I was depressed. The one that I loved for eleven years, left me just like that.”

Seokjin stares at you, meaningfully. And you’re about to hear something that breaks your whole being. 

“And then, I just knew I’d never love again.”

*

You don’t know what happened with you—and Seokjin, but in a way you’ve been distancing yourself from him, and the gesture is mutual. Seokjin never came home early, and not that you ask him anymore. He always came home whenever you were already asleep, and when you wake up, he’d be gone. Even with the current withdrawal, you still find breakfast on the table, courtesy of him. Yet you’d rather he not.

I just knew I’d never love again.

It hurts. It hurts like hell when he really said that he’ll never love again. In a way, you know you’ve been feeling something for your husband—that you crave for his attention and care, and to know that he might never reciprocate the way you want him to. Hurts like a bitch.

But it’s all on you. It is clear as crystal that love is not even the foundation of your marriage, so if anything happens to your foolish heart, it’s all on you. You shouldn’t have taken this lightly. You should’ve known that you are weak at heart, and you’ll fall for him anyway. 

Because he is the greatest guy you have ever met.

The compassion, kindness and caring that he has, it’s beyond comprehension. You don’t know how someone can be so understanding like he is, the way he takes care of you and wants nothing in return, that sincerely wants the best for you—even without love—succeeds in making you fall head over heels for him. 

God, you really are a fool.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You look to your left, seeing Hoseok scrutinizing at you in worry, now Jane is already beside him. “You’ve been whimpering since morning, and now you’re crying. Is there anything wrong?”

“Nothing, I am sorry for disturbing you all.” You swipe your tear stained cheeks, standing from your seat. “I’m getting some air, okay? I’ll see you guys later.”

Half-running, you enter the elevator and swiftly exit the building, trying to breathe as clear as you could—no matter how it might hurt you. God, you hate being vulnerable. You hate being weak. You hate being in love—an unrequited one, at that. Why can’t you just put your heart together? Why do you have to like him now, after two years of not caring whether he even fucked someone else behind your back? 

A whisper in your mind tells you that probably, these two years have been too great with him. Maybe, because he never gave you space for doubt. Maybe, you are already dependent on him without you knowing. Maybe, you take your feelings for granted.

“Y/N, are you okay? Why are you crying?” Someone stares at you in shock, and turns out it is Jungkook. His arm is around your shoulder. “I just finished a meeting and wanted to get  coffee and found you here instead. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Is it weird that I felt sad because I finally—finally have feelings for my husband? Like… this supposed to happen before marriage, right?”

“Oh, Y/N..” Jungkook sighs. “What happened?”

And like that, you fill him in on what happened between you and Seokjin, and it leaves him furrowing his eyebrows. “So.. you telling me that you think Seokjin still couldn’t forget his ex?”

You process his sentence for a while, and reply with a hesitant nod. Jungkook exhales loudly. “That’s not it, Y/N. I don’t think he’s still in love with his ex, he is... just scared. He is scared of the pain of his past, and he is scared of opening up to someone. Just like you. And with the way you are acting right now, it’s not fixing anything you both are feeling right now.”

“But he said he’ll never love again..”

“I couldn’t believe you even believe that bullshit.” Jungkook frowns. “That girl betrayed him. She gave him literally a thousand reasons to move on. He just needs time to adjust, and a couple of facts slapped to his face. He’ll come around.”

“Do… do you think I should.. talk to him about this?” 

“No. You can just shut up and hope he can read your mind.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, heavily sarcastic. “Talk to him, Y/N. You trust him, right?”

“I do.” You whisper to yourself, strangely motivated. “I do trust him.”

*

Well, it turns out trust is not a really firm base for confronting your own husband to the mess you made. After you called Seokjin to pick you up after work to get dinner together, he was visibly surprised at your request since you’re usually not the type to begin conversation after a fight—you never even asked to be picked up before. You yourself don’t even know whether it would be a good idea, but Seokjin’s easy agreement does make it better.

When you enter the car, he is the first to greet with a warm smile, and it reminds you that you haven’t seen it for so long now—you might even miss it. “Hey.” 

“Hi, Seokjin.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “Thank you for picking me up. I’m just.. feeling a bit out of it to take the train. I hope it’s okay.”

“Of course it is. I told you a million times I’ll pick you up if you can, you’re the one who rejected me.” He giggles lightly, glancing at you. “Thank you too.”

“For what?”

“For reaching out? I know past week we’ve been.. kinda avoiding each other. I didn’t know how to.. start since I was the problem in the first place.” He scratches his nape in shame. “I am very sorry, by the way. It was very immature of me.”

“No, it’s not. I totally understand.” You respond quickly. “And I didn’t know what happened, I have no rights to judge. It was your pain, and I am just glad you want to share it with me.”

Unexpectedly, Seokjin chuckles. “Why are you so sweet today.” 

“Let me know if you want my sass back, I’ll gladly serve it to you.” You retaliate, even your inside are churning with nerves.

“You know I accepted you for who you are—you can be anything you want.” Seokjin brushes the top of your head with a toothy grin that leaves you a breathy mess. 

“You are so cheesy today.” You respond briskly, noticing that you have arrived at the designated restaurant. Seokjin parks the car swiftly, and when there’s only silence inside, he turns on the lights on top of him.

“I have something for you.”

“What?”

“Look at the backseat.”

You glance at the backseat, finding an oak brown bag that somehow feels familiar. You quickly pick it up and open it. Turns out it is the exact beautiful brown bag that has catched your eyes from your previous window shopping session—before Jimin comes into the picture. You squeal in delight. “What is this?! Are you seriously giving this to me?”

“No, I’m giving it to Grandma Lee, our neighbor. Who else?” He smirks and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before adoring your bag once more.

“This is very pretty, though. How could you know which one I liked?”

“Well, let’s just say I know you better than you think? I practically know what you liked. This one greatly matches your outfits too. You know I have a great fashion sense.” He winks.

“I’ll let your last sentence pass because I’m very touched right now. Thank you, Seokjin.” You beam in joy, adoring the bag.

Seokjin nods, and when you rest the bag carefully on the backseat, he suddenly pulls you close for a hug—his arms around your waist, your chin settles on his shoulder. His spontaneity literally leaves you breathless, the heat is blooming around your cheek at the close proximity. God, you wish he couldn’t hear your drumming heartbeat.

“Thank you for being such a great friend and partner. I’m so thankful we are married, you know?”

You grimace in pain. God, the sound of your heart breaking is really audible in your ear. Oh, how you wish he had known.

*

And in the end, you are the loser in this game you played with yourself, because you most absolutely didn’t say a thing, yet you’re enjoying every second of being in love by yourself, making up scenarios and wondering if he feels the way you do.

It is ridiculous how greatly it has been played—considering how caring he usually is, yet it’s not even rare for him to say that you’re different in a way. He never explained in detail, but even you know what’s different. You started calling him frequently between work, asking when he’ll be home, his opinion on little things, or if he wanted to eat anything. It’s the small things that you’re hoping he’ll catch, yet it seems like something trivial for him and it lowkey upsets you.

One evening, you’re already waiting for him in the apartment, determined to finally tell him about what you feel—that you love him and hope he feels the same way. Jungkook was right—you can’t lounge around waiting for him. There’s no shame in starting first, especially when knowing it’s him you’re falling in love with.

Yet the clock strikes nine, he has not arrived yet. The food you prepared since six has already turned cold, and you start to feel wary, glancing nervously at the door—since he said he’ll be home around eight and is already late by an hour. You already tried calling him, but it is met with no response. His phone is on and well, yet he’s not replying. So you wait while watching the news.

Car crash. A man. Blue toyota. On the road of his way back home. You immediately reach for your phone, calling his number in panic.

Could it be?

*

It’s already midnight when Seokjin opens his apartment door, expecting darkness—but instead he finds you sleeping on the couch, phone clutched on your chest. He closes in, a thin smile formed on his lips as his fingers soothes the creases of your crouching eyebrows, but it somehow sends you flinching on your spot. You are now wide awake.

“Seokjin, when are you home?” You demand, as his pupils dilate of confusion. 

“I just arrived. Sorry, I was—”

“I thought you died, you moron!” You shouts immediately. “Car crash news was on, man driving a blue toyota. I was so scared it was you that I even called the police, yet they said the victim is still in the hospital, I couldn’t know the identity. I was so scared...” You don’t even know why you’re tearing up right now—but the emotion is overwhelming, you must be talking nonsense.

Seokjin blinks, confused. “I’m sorry, I left my phone on mute. I forgot to let you know...”

You don’t even want to hear the rest, as you quickly storm off to your bed and force yourself to sleep, muffling your cries. The feeling you had for the last few hours, the horror of thinking Seokjin might be laid in blood on the street is something you’d rather not experience now or ever. 

In a few minutes, you feel the bed dips beside you. Seokjin is there. 

“Are you still awake?” He softly asks, but you decide to ignore him and closes your eyes.

“I am very sorry. I didn’t know… this would happen. But I should’ve let you know.”

You clearly know what he refers to. You usually don’t give a shit if he’d even come in dawn, but now you’re crying and throwing a fit when it’s not even something to fuss about. It’s only you and your overreacting fear.

“Get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning, okay?” He whispers as he tucked the blanket closer to you, stroking the top of your head carefully. 

*

The next morning, you wake up to the delicious smell of baked cheese. Unable to hold your scoff, you decided to stay a little bit on bed just to pisses him off. Frankly, you are still slightly vengeful for last night, with this urge to let him know your annoyance has not worn off.

So when he walks in and softly taps your shoulder, you are silent. “Hey. It’s already seven, you need to take a shower and come eat breakfast, hmm?” He persuades, but you turn your back to him, and Seokjin huffs at your petty acts, yet the guilt is still seeping in his chest. 

Seokjin sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t let you know work is unexpectedly late. I don’t want to make excuses, as I know it’s all my fault. I won’t do it again.”

At the sincerity in his tone, your anger quickly washes off, but still you’re doubtful on how to answer his apology. Should you just say yes? Or should you pretend anger?

“Hey, look at me.” Seokjin impatiently pulls you to face him, both his palms are on the sides of you. His eyes bore into yours, and you instantly turn stiff with his face so close. 

He takes a deep breath. “I’m very, very sorry, Y/N. I promise I’ll do my best in letting you know if something came up at work and not make you worry anymore.”

“I like you.”

You wonder whose word that is, but it turns out to be you. It’s literally you who said those three words that you have been practicing since last night. You didn’t even know why it’s coming out right now, it’s just the way he looks at you right now—it’s the first thing you want him to know. 

“What?” He looks mildly bewildered.

“I like you, Seokjin. I… I don’t know when or how, but I really, really like you.” You confess. You finally confess, yet the way Seokjin looks immediately puts you in horror. That’s absolutely not the look you expected from him.

He laughs with sheer awkwardness. “Of course, we are married. You know I like you too, Y/N.” Yet you know he meant differently.

You know everything will go south the moment you try to say what you truly meant, yet you don’t want to lie anymore. You are tired of hiding what you’re feeling. “I am serious. I like you, in that way. I might even love you. The past two years, we’ve been with each other and I seriously couldn’t be happier with what we both had. I know this is not what we both planned—”

“It’s most absolutely not.” He cuts, distancing himself from you, face filled with panic.

“—but I want you to know. I want to try this, Seokjin. I know you might need some time, and what I feel might be one-sided, but I want you to know and try this. With me.”

A moment of silence to tense that you can slice it to choke yourself—when it’s only you and him who is avoiding your gaze. He then scoots off the bed, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

 “I… I’m gonna go. You should finish your breakfast.”

And then he left.

The misery doesn’t end there. You never felt someone could be so physically close yet so far away like what he’s putting between the two of you right now. For a straight week he literally never came home earlier than nine, and when he did, he’d sleep on the couch. And fuck did it hurt to sleep knowing he is out of your reach. You never know love could hurt like this—maybe you trusted him too much with your heart.

Saturday, you left a note that you’ll be off to your parents house for the weekend, and even then Seokjin didn’t contact you. And coming back home, your parents fortunately didn’t fuss as much, maybe since you just said you needed time away from him. 

The night comes, you are lounging in your room when your phone rings. At once you quickly jump to retrieve it, frown when seeing its a social media notification instead.

From : @pjmin

Hi, Y/N, this is Jimin! Hope you are doing well :) [21:29]

I know this is a bit hurried, but if possible, are you up to meet for coffee tomorrow? [21:29]

It’s okay if you can’t, just want to talk and catch up while I’m in town [21:30]

Let me know! [21:31]

Albeit doubtful, you are indeed curious about what he wants to talk about, knowing it must have something to do with Seokjin. Unable to hold your curiosity, you agree to a time and place with him.

Tomorrow, you walk into the agreed coffee shop, finding Jimin already seated, sipping on his beverages. You carefully pay attention to him, and notice he indeed has changed so much from that average kid you met when you were kids. Well, not that you have any rights to comment though.

“Hi.” He greets with a smile after you are seated in front of him. “I ordered you something. Hope you’re okay with caramel frappucino. You still like sweets?”

“Ah, I’m fine with anything. Thanks. And yes, I still like them. Kinda surprised you still remember, though.” You joke. Jimin lips curls.

“Well, the memory of a kid eating four cotton candy in one sitting until she passed out from high blood sugar is not really something one could forget.” He giggles, and you roll your eyes. Well, your childhood is indeed not a pretty one. “It was rather traumatizing, I could say.”

After a moment of catching up on how he’s currently doing right now, you mindlessly ask him. “So, where is your fiancé? I thought she’ll be with us here.”

Jimin instantly dims at the mention. “Uh… We broke up.”

You stop your movement and gape at him in disbelief. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, let’s just say once a cheater is always a cheater?” Jimin stares down at his drinks. “Not in that way, though. In the beginning, my family never really liked her, that’s why I’ve been holding off from marriage—no matter how much she pleaded to. We actually came back to get married, and get blessings. And just yesterday, my father sent me a whole report of her financial statement, slush funds, and everything. Well, there’s just too much thing she’s hiding behind my back.”

“Jimin…” You mutter, feeling bad for the guy. But still, you are unable to scoff at how blinded he has been. The girl is no doubt is using him for his money—and he just realized it now? 

“I know what you’re thinking. I must be a damn fool to just realize it now.” He humorlessly laughs, correctly reading your mind. “But maybe I was hoping she’ll one day change. I must be a total dumbass.”

“Yeah, you kinda are.” You had enough of holding back, and it surprises Jimin with your forwardness. You grin regardless. “But that’s okay. Everybody makes mistakes, right? We just gotta live with it.”

“Yeah.” He agrees with a saddened smile. “I know it doesn’t quite make sense telling this to Seokjin’s wife, but… I don’t know. I want you to know that I regretted it. I really shouldn’t have done that—cheating behind his back. Maybe this is karma, anyway. I deserved this.”

You sigh. “You know that you shouldn’t be saying that to me, right? You should tell it straight to Seokjin.”

Jimin sighs, like it has been bugging his mind for a long time now. “But of course he wouldn’t want to see me. And I have a flight tonight, back to Sydney, so I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Well, maybe an apology had to wait, then.” You shrug, and Jimin frowns. “You were his friend, Jimin. And I know if I were him, I’d want it coming from you.”

“I guess so. You were right.” He exhales loudly. “Thank you for that too. And agreeing to meet me. I’m really glad we talked. And don’t forget to stay in contact, okay?”

You hum with a wide smile. “Thank you too, Jimin.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot. I brought this for your wedding present.” Jimin crouches, retrieving a gift box as he displays a sincere beam. “I don’t know if Seokjin would like that I’m giving you this, but, yeah. I am very glad that you’re together. You guys seriously could be the best couple I know.”

You fiddly laugh when reminded of the current turmoil of your marriage. Well, he's better off not knowing, though. “You really shouldn’t have, but thank you for this.”

Well, you do hope that whatever Jimin’s gift is, Seokjin is still there to use them.

*

Sunday, you spend lounging on your bed, staring at the gift from Jimin, opened and stacked on your desk. You are still unable to comprehend his thoughtfulness. He gave you a couple bathrobe, a bottle of expensive Bordeaux Wine with two antique wine glasses. You messaged him thank you, and Jimin only sent a wink emoticon as an answer.

And then you are reminded of Seokjin’s scar. What happened with his ex, it was because he was too kind. He was too trustful, and it hurt to let go of someone you’ve been with for nearly half of your life and betrayed you like that. He is really the kindest soul out there—and then you realize that you missed him dearly. You wonder what he might be doing right now. Is he just as distraught as you are? Is he thinking about you as well?

In the middle of your wandering thoughts, your phone abruptly chimes. Finding an unknown number in the other line, you answer hesitantly. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N. This is Yoongi, Seokjin’s friend.”

It’s been a long time since you heard from him and you rise to sit, mildly perturbed. “Yes. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Not really. Apologize if I’m too forward, I know there’s a bit of problem at bay, but I know Seokjin’s dying to talk to you, and has been stressing about it since god-knows-when. He’s in my apartment now, can you… get him? Lounging in my apartment drinking is not going to solve anything.” He huffs lightly, and you sigh in distress.

“I know. But I am now in my parents house. Do you think.. I should just come?”

An evil laugh is heard on the other end. “No, that’s unnecessary. I know what’s even better that will help with this whole thing.”

Closing his call in daze, you are still waiting for the plan—but not even an hour in, a rushed knock is already heard from your front door. In a blink, Seokjin is on your bedroom door, carefully opening it. 

“Y/N?” He softly calls your name. “Are you… okay?”

Well, the scared look on his face does make you kind of guilty. Yoongi must have told him lies that you’re sick, and then he didn’t even spend another second and went straight to you. You have no idea what to feel, decide to hide yourself under your blanket.

“Hey, look at me.” He rushes, tapping the side of your arm carefully, but you are still unbudging. Impatiently, he effortlessly tugs the blanket off of you, until you are looking at him with a frown in your face. He rests his palm on your forehead, to your neck, baffled. “Are you sick? Yoongi told me you have high fever.”

“Well, I think Yoongi lied because he wanted to chase you out of his apartment.” You scowl, turning your face with a hint of blush on your face. You never know seeing him again could be this difficult. “I heard you’ve been a parasite to him.” You tease, slightly smiling.

“Yoongi, that disrespectful shithead.” Seokjin hisses under his breath, but it’s obvious that he is avoiding your eyes. He straightens and clears his throat. “Okay then. I think… I should go  home. Are you going to stay here?”

“Seokjin…” You call, holding on his wrist from leaving. “Are you angry at me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I am not angry at you.”

“But you are avoiding me. And we don’t even talk anymore. This is not how we used to handle problems. What’s wrong?” You persist, determined to end this cold war with him. 

Seokjin sighs. “I am just… scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I am scared of disappointing you.” He is visibly downcasted. “I know what you meant, Y/N. But I also know that I can’t be… what you want me to be. I can’t seem to forget... her. I don’t want to hurt you, or myself. And I know It’s difficult, and I don’t want to put you into that pain. It’s better this way.”

“I never pressured you into anything.” You reply, your voice started shaking. “I just want you to know, and try this with me. And you know holding onto something that has hurt you is not going to work, Seokjin. Please, please stop hurting yourself and try this. With me.”

“I-I can’t.” He hurriedly mutters, intending to walk out before you hold him back, crushing yourself into his arms, your tears burst into loud sobs.

For a good ten minutes, you spend it crying on his arms, tears wetting his white shirt. You don’t know what you feel—you’re dejected, sad, disappointed, angry, too many emotions that overwhelms your whole being but can only come in tears when he’s around. “Seokjin, I like you. Why can’t you give us a chance? Are you… that disgusted with me?”

At the self depreciating cries, he quickly looks down, both palms are on either side of your face. “Don’t be like that. I adore you so much, Y/N. Don’t hurt yourself because of me.”

“There’s no way I can’t be sad if you’re still hurting yourself. I just want you to be happy—with me. Is that so hard?” You weep, hiding yourself back to his chest. “I hate this. You know how much I hate crying.”

“Then you shouldn’t have cried that much.” He scolds, stroking your scalp like he usually does—and you slightly feel comforted at his familiar gesture.

After another ten minutes just hugging it out, he finally leans into you resting his head on top of yours, taking a deep breath of nerves.

“Okay. Let’s try then. But please be patient with me, hmm? I’ll try my hardest for us.”

*

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He shuffles in his sleep, but is unmoving. You frown, and call him one more time yet still met with no response. Huffing, you scoot closer to him, and clasp his nose to hamper him from breathing. At your disturbance he groans, finally opening his eyes. “Why are you waking me up now… This is still dawn.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have started getting back into gaming now. This is already half past seven, mister. Take a shower before you’re late.” You remind him, and as expected he already has two feet on the ground, running to the shower.

And as a kind and dutiful wife, you help him by preparing his outfits. You chose a nice blue themed suit this time, paired with a nice tie you bought him a few months back. Walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist, you are unable to hold your eyes from straying low. Damn, he really be packing like that, huh?

“What are you looking at, huh?” Seokjin squints his eyes at you, taking the prepared clothes. “Don’t look at me like that. I know I’m a whole snack, but I’m not a sexual object.” He jokes while wiggling eyebrows, and you scoff loudly when you can’t find a sassy reply for him.

You decide to wait in the living room, trying to calm your heartbeat. God, you’re such a loser, now even his bare chest can stupefy you like that. 

Regardless, you're more than content with the current relation with you and Seokjin. Both you definitely have gotten better, a bit more identical to wife and husband—even if it's probably only for you. You are trying your hardest for him, and when you know he can’t instantly fall at your feet and love you the way you do, you are satisfied. At least he’s not pushing you away.

“I’m a bit late for breakfast, but thank you for this.” He whispers, pointing to the pack of food you prepared for him. Noticing what’s missing, you pick the tie from his grasp, and circle around his neck and putting it on for him. He visibly stiffen on your arms.

After finished, you brush his suit’s shoulder and take a step back with a smile. “Let me know when you’ll be home, okay?”

“Okay.” He agrees and softly smiles. “See you.”

And then, he leaves a tender peck on your left cheek and exits the room. 

You literally can’t stop smiling the whole day.

*

One thing that you never really told anyone, is that you never had true sex. Like you had it once or twice in high school, but those annoying jerks never let you even finish and all you were left was disappointment. During college, you were too ambitious for your studies, so the thought of sleeping around was not on your agenda, and you never really believed in love or relationships. So when the thought of sex enters your mind this morning, it was quite frightening.

Having your lunch with only Jungkook, you decided to tell him your concern. He is quite shocked to say the least. “What the—you want to have sex with him? Finally?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You exhale, pushing away your food in disinterest. “This few days we are making progress. So I don’t know—isn’t sex always the solution? I thought it would do some good for us.”

“Well, it’s indeed a solution for most problems, I would say.” He giggles between words, and you roll your eyes in disgust. “But I don’t know about Seokjin. I must say—the man really has outstanding self control. Sleeping on one bed with a woman for two straight years and still hasn’t initiated sex? Crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been sleeping around before.”

The thought immediately darkens your whole mood, and Jungkook realizes his slips. “—or, he’s just a good masturbator? Nobody knows, Y/N, especially not me. Ha ha ha.” He nervously chuckles, sipping his drinks. “And the minority of men are not that much of an sex-fueled animal. He must be good at keeping his hands to himself, and please don’t mind what I said.”

What Jungkook said might be haunting you a bit that you request to get home early—when instead you’re going to the mall for shopping. You went straight to the ladies side where all kinds of bras or lingerie is available, but you literally have no clue what’s useful for your case. Already desperate, you finally call Jane for advice, discarding the huge probability of damage that you’ll be teased or ridiculed. 

“Oh my god! That’s very fun. I still can’t believe you lied to the boss because you’re preparing to bone your husband tonight.” Jane cackles, truly amused. “God, I miss those alone times with my husband. Don’t have kids too soon, Y/N. Be happy with your husband.”

“Stop rambling and help me pick!” You hiss, realizing a few stares has caught on you. She giggles, and then proceeds to help you pack home a black lacy three piece lingerie that will instantly shock your mother if she ever sees—which she said would ‘even spice up a fifty years old marriage’. 

You don’t even know how that’s possible, or why you even asked her for advice in the first place.

Waiting for your train home, you hold your shopping bag close to your chest, slightly  embarrassed. You don’t know what you should do then—should you just wear it and surprise him in the living room when he comes home? Or lay in your bed while trying to tease him? How does that actually work?

In front of your apartment, suddenly a call arrives. Seokjin. “Hey, Y/N. Work is a bit much today, I think I’ll be late. Will be home around nine, maybe. But can you wait for me? I forgot to bring my keys.”

Agreeing mindlessly, you sigh after ending the call, looking to the bag on your grasp. You really had a bad feeling about this.

*

It’s quarter to nine, Seokjin is already on the way home and you are already all cleaned up. You started with a good, long warm shower and shaves, curled your hair, and put up a light makeup. You even tried watching porn for learning purposes—but instantly grossed out after a few failed attempts at finding a good one. Well, maybe you should just kiss him and not say or do a thing you’ll regret.

Jungkook was right, though. There’s no way Seokjin can handle two long years without sleeping around. Yet even the thoughts of him sleeping with other girls leaves you qualmish. In the middle of your busy thoughts, the bell suddenly rings at the door. 

“Y/N? Are you there? Can you please open this?”

Walking with your heels on, your head is in haze at the thoughts of him seeing you like this. God, you start having second thoughts. Should you just run inside and change your clothes? But the remembrance of the price of this lingerie instantly blanches you. You’d rather be shamed in front of your husband than wasting his much money for nothing. 

“Good ev—what is this?”

Seokjin looks at you, visibly flabbergasted at your unexpected fit. Not even once that he would think you would wear something like this, especially for him—and now your face is already beet red. You are far too shy to do or initiate anything.

“Are you okay? What are you—”

Before he can say other things that will embarrass you even more, you quickly crash your lips to his, kissing it frantically while trying to make it as pleasurable as possible. Seokjin instantly gasps, his bag falling to the floor beside him. His hands rest on your back while you are focusing to make it as good as it can get for him. 

You bite his lips for entrance, and as he moans you slips your tongue inside, tasting the sweet beverages he just drank. At one point, he finally responds—kissing you back with tenderness instead that helps manage a pace that won’t leave you breathless.

Few more minutes of tasting his lips against yours, Seokjin finally lets you go, and unexpectedly laughs. Realizing how foolish you must have been for him, you quickly flee inside the room and jump under your blanket. You hiss and close your eyes, cheeks flushed at the remembrance of the kiss and his amused face staring at you—God, can you be more humiliating?

After taking a shower, Seokjin jumps on the bed and you instantly scoot yourself further away, with your back facing him. The silent giggle is still heard and frustrated, you sent him a glare. “Why are you laughing?! There’s nothing funny.”

“I’m laughing not because it's funny, but because you’re extremely cute.” He hums, probably noticing how the blush crept back on your cheek. You scowl in annoyance. “You’re so aggressive today, but how can you’re still so cute? What happened, hmm?”

“No, I just…Ugh, I’m trying here, okay? I know these past two years might have been frustrating to you, I won’t even be surprised if you’ve been sleeping around—”

“What? What are you saying? Who’s sleeping around?” Seokjin asks, puzzled. You bit your lips, looking down in shame.

“I don’t know, maybe because my friends told me they wouldn’t last without sex and I just… I thought you’re like that too. And we haven’t really talked about that, so...”

He laughs, pulling you close until you flush against his chest. He smells like oak and citrus and it entices you at once. “I haven’t been sleeping with anyone for the past two years. My last time was probably with a stranger when I broke up, I think. I don’t really remember.”

“Really? You don’t have to lie to me, I know it’s really—”

“I am serious. And why would I lie? I just… think it’s not right. To be truthful, I also don’t want you to sleep around with someone else when we’re married, I’m just trying to keep this as pleasant as it could be for us.”

Humming against his chest, you feel your heart warming at his considerate act. You really are marrying the right person—regardless of how unconventional it started. You can’t even imagine if it was someone else. Few minutes of silence just feeling his arms around yours until you speak and ruin the whole conversation. 

“So does it mean you’re a great masturbator?”

Seokjin laughs until his whole body vibrates. “Well, maybe you could say it like that.”

*

“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?” Jane asks during your lunch with Hoseok, Jungkook, and Namjoon with a hint of teasing on her tone. “I am surprised you even came to the office today. I thought you’d call in sick.”

“What the hell—it’s not like that.” You hiss at her, hoping she’d get your subtle message to quit it. Jane groans.

“Come on, Y/N, we are all adults here. Tell us! At least tell me how many rounds. What was it like? Did you use any other tools—like ropes or vibrators?”

Hoseok and Namjoon literally choke on their drinks, while Jungkook smirks in amusement at your flushed cheeks. “Don’t say it. Damn, Jane, it’s not it! What the hell are you saying?!”

“Well, I mean you literally called in sick to buy a lingerie—that I chose, for those taking notes—which literally will get him hot and erected in no time. How can I not be wondering?! What was it like? Tell me, I’m a lonely mother of two, Y/N. I just want to know, hmm?”

“Yes, tell us, Y/N! How’d it go with your lawfully wedded husband?” Jungkook joins in, giggling in mischief. You shot him an unamused look.

“Ah, I remember those days. Fucking till morning with my wife. Well, before the baby arrives.” Namjoon sighs dreamily, and you are visibly repulsed at his sentence. “I agree with Jane, Y/N. I love my child to death, but I’d rather wait for maybe another year or two.”

“It’s not like that!” You hide your face on your palm. “There literally nothing happened. I wore that lingerie, and surprised him when he came home, but we ended up doing nothing but kissing. He laughed, by the way. Thanks for that, Jane.” You glare at her, and she shrugs.

“Only that?” Hoseok asks, uncertain. “You’re already wearing lingerie and nothing happened?”

You vengefully nod. “That’s really all. Then he took a shower, we just talked until both fell asleep. Done.”

Namjoon contemplates, fingers on his chin. “That’s weird. Hmm. You don’t even bother jumping in the shower?”

“You are an idiot.” You sigh, massaging your temple—even if the idea struck you in a way. Should you have jumped into the shower with him? But you did your make up and all... “Even kissing him was already—”

Jungkook quickly cuts with roaring laughter. “Wow, I never know you’re that much of an idiot, Y/N! Ha ha ha I’m hungry, does anyone want to order food now?” As others are focused on skimming the menu, he sends you a look, and you just register that you were about to blabber the reality of your marriage. You grimace and mutter your thanks to him.

*

Two weeks have passed in a blink, and you are seriously pleased with the way things are. It feels like the boundary has been torn down between you two, and pretty clear that Seokjin’s been making an effort for your relationship as well. Usually, you always feel the things he does is based on mere obligation, but you know it’s no longer the case for him. You can feel how much he cares and adores you—receiving your bear hugs whenever he comes home, holding you close before coming to bed, kissing your forehead whenever it feels right. 

Just like today. You are feeling a bit feverish, and when you reply to his message asking how’re you doing, he immediately calls.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks after the first beep, tone laced with concern. “If you’re not feeling good, you should go home. Do you want me to call a taxi? Or can you wait for an hour, I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine. This is not really rare. I’ll be fine soon.” You giggle, even inside of you tickles on the wondrous feeling of him caring for your well being. “I’ll go straight home after this.”

“Okay. I’ll get you.” He reminds and you hum in agreement. “Stay put until then, okay?”

I love you. “See you.”

I love you too. “Bye.”

And while driving home with Seokjin, you don’t know why but you feel physically much better than before. It just feels so right with him beside you. Especially when you initiate to hold his hand, he lets go for a second and repositions himself so he could hold your hand better—you seriously think you could fall sick on how jumpy you’ve become because of him. 

“Are you sure you’re sick? Or you just need some attention, hmm?” He teases, lightly pinches your cheek. You huff in embarrassment. 

“You’re annoying.” You are about to pull back your hand to your lap when he holds it tighter. 

“Who says I wanna let go.” Seokjin’s lips curl into a hearty smile. You still maintain your fake scowl. “You’re just so cute, that’s what.”

“Why are you so cheesy nowadays.” You burst in laughter, unable to hold it back. Seokjin beams, and reliably parks the car in your apartment’s basement with one hand. Finally silence, it's only you and him with the soft engine sound when he pulls you to his arms.

“Thank you for loving me. I seriously don’t know what you see in me, but I seriously can’t believe that you really like me and want to go through this.” He exhales softly, his left arms holding you by the waist, his right stroking your hair. “I hope that you know that I’m trying my best here. But I don’t know why, it doesn’t even feel like trying. Everything is so easy with you.”

“That’s really cheesy.” You chuckles, but tighten your arms around him regardless. “I’m also very thankful that you’re giving us a chance. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. I keep on making a mess, falling in love when I shouldn’t—”

“Hey, don’t say that. I am really happy we’ve been through this, or I might always chicken out. Even if it could be better if I wasn’t such a jackass, but I’m still grateful.” He coos, pecking your forehead.

Releasing his hug, you are about to mutter something when he cuts with his lips lurching unto yours, cutting whatever sound beside loud moans. You are taken aback, falling a step back before steadying yourself by finding purchase on his shoulder. His palms are on either side of your face, pacing himself. 

You spend no time responding, savoring the tender taste of his lips. He tasted just the way you remember, sweet and addicting that leaves you wondering why you haven’t been doing this since the beginning. Catching a breath, he laps at your lips for opening, and as you comply, he roughly pulls you closer by the nape, tangling his tongue like he is a man starved all this time. 

“Did you eat a donut?” You giggle when he lets your lips go, trailing pepper kisses on your neck instead. When his lips ghosts to the succulent curve of your v-neck top, you abruptly pull him up to see you in the eye. 

“Baby, don’t. Not here. We’re just steps away from the apartment and we’re not getting reprimanded of public indecency.” You remind him. Seokjin scoffs, letting out a deep sigh.

“You shouldn’t wear this top. This is not good for my health.” He frowns as you laugh. “And what are you thinking, I’m not going to have our first time in this car. It was just an intro, so you better be prepared.”

“Ooh, consider me spooked, then.” You smirk in mischief. It is somehow proven by the way Seokjin cannot take his hands off of your waist, ghosting right above the bump of your ass while ascending to your apartment. At all the action you feel the discomfort between your thigh—high chance you are already dripping wet. You have been feeling exceptionally horny this few days, anyway. 

“And don’t think I didn’t know the way you’re invading my space and grinding your ass last night when we went to sleep.” He suddenly mentions the event that leaves you all blushing—especially with the other residents on the elevator. You elbow him right away, finger crossed they won’t hear a word he’s saying.

Arriving in your apartment, Seokjin doesn’t hesitate when he pulls you for a deep kiss, his fingers hovering on the hem of your top to detach it from you, flinging it to wherever. Your skin shivers when his fingers are in contact with your bare skin, and to your bra as he grabs the succulent flesh that leaves you a moaning mess. 

“Baby, wait. I need to go to the restroom.” You whisper between the kiss, when  the incessant throb quite overwhelming your good sense now. Seokjin huffs in pout but let go either way. There’s no way he will say no to whatever request you have for him.

“Don’t be long, sweetheart.”

Running to your toilet with a qualmish feeling on your stomach, you quickly discard your panties with a hypothesis—to have it confirmed by how it has been ruined… with your period blood. You hiss, the frustration building up in your head. You are just about to have sex with your husband after long days of pining, and you just had to have the period on the exact same day. There’s gotta be wrong with your luck.

Finally cleaning yourself, you walk out to find your husband is sitting on the couch, a visible hard-on from his trousers. At the sound of you walking out, he stands but to find your deep frown. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, I hate this so much. I can’t believe we’re about to do this but I got to have my period.” You run to his side, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m sorry for ruining this.”

At your visible dejection, Seokjin can’t bear but to giggle and it leaves you puzzled. How can he be laughing now? “Hey, it’s no matter to me. We can do something else about it, okay? I’ll take care of you. And we can leave that one for raincheck, so don’t be upset.”

Seokjin spends no other second in ravishing your lips while detaching your bra, discarding it in the same manner. His large palms grab the mounds, giving it a little squeeze before pinching your sensitive buds, especially now that you’re in your period. “Ugh, god. You’re so beautiful.” He gruffly mutters before taking your left mounds into his mouth, giving it a hard suck that you have to tug on his fluffy hair on how the pleasure has engulfed you. 

“Seokjin...” You moan his name as he shifts to the other mounds, his other hand strays to your clothed core, giving it a feathery touch before he pushes his digits. You bit your lips, holding back a sound.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I want to hear all of you tonight.” He reminds. You nod, feeling your mind has clouded in haze and all you can feel is how great he is with his deed.

Noticing how he has been focusing on your pleasure and satisfaction, you push him back to the couch, your knees on the wooden floor before taking a ride for yourself by opening the fly of his trousers. Seokjin gasps at your cold hands on his erected cock before it springs free in all its glory. 

“God, you’re so big. I’m not sure if I can take you end when this fucking period is over.” You are shocked at the size of his girthy dick, the precum is already leaking and you can feel your saliva swimming in your mouth—desperate for a taste.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I told you I’ll take care of you, okay?” He comforts, before his tone drops. “Now suck on my cock like you’re a bitch in heat.”

You give a kittish lap on the slit, tasting the saltiness that is unfamiliar to your tongue, but is easy to discard when encouraged by the moan he is letting out with such favor. Noticing that it might hurt him to be blown without proper preparation, you spit on his dick, before giving him a sensual pump. “Fuck, Y/N, where did you learn to do that—god!” He moans in rapture. 

Your mouth closes in, sucking on the tip before taking him in your mouth. You run your tongue along the vein of his beautiful cock, wrapping your lips tight around it, feeling how it throbs in your mouth. “Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” He hisses, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. But for the intention of teasing, you’re detaching your lips, going to the ridge of his cock’s length for a lick.

“Damn it, baby, why are you such a tease.” He groans, but is cut with your palm wrapping around his dick, the other slides up to his ball. You can feel a new wave of arousal coming out from your pussy. “Now let me fuck your throat.” He stoutly orders with hooded eyes, forcing your mouth back to take in his red tip and length until it hits the back of your throat—resulting in a gag. Seokjin gathers your hair, helping it out of your way before he raises his hips, feeling the wondrous feeling of your mouth clamming on his dick.

“Don’t flex your throat, sweetheart. Relax, okay? Tell me if you want to stop.” He stares at you, and you nod. You fucking love this, and you’d literally do anything to make him satisfied tonight. Your throat relaxes, and you savor his satisfied groans after feeling the back walls of your throat, with the tears streaking your cheek at his pace and feeling the burn. 

“O-oh g-god, F-fuck y-yes.” Seokjin pants, each syllable coming out as he thrust into your throat. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see your pretty face while I fucked your mouth hard.” He angles you better until he is satisfied, the lewd image of his cock stuffed into your mouth instantly sends him jerking faster.

A throaty moan slips out of you, and the action successfully sends him to his edge, feeling the vibrations cause his cock to throb in your pretty mouth. “Fuck, this is amazing. You’re so fucking great.” The compliments earns him another groan from you, and it ignites the leading to his awaited orgasm.

Few other thrusts in your throat, you finally feel Seokjin constricting inside of you. He’s about to come, and you’re expecting him to release his load for you to swallow—you were prepared, overall—but unexpectedly he retracts from your mouth, instead jerking off in immaculate pace, and the loss of his dick leaves hollowness inside your throat. “I wanna cum on your tits, baby.” He gruffly whispers.

“Give it to me, daddy.” You persuade, as he pants, still working on his red cock—on the edge of his orgasm. Yet not even once he turns his gaze from you, all red and high with lust hooded in your eyes, the trace of tears on the side of cheek, the swole of your plump lips coated in his pre cum and spit. You look surreal. 

“Fuck-fuck! You’re so fucking beautiful.” He hisses, increasing the pace of his pumps before releasing his massive loads on your tits, painting it white. You look down to yourself, feeling his cum trickles down to your nipples and to your thigh. You swipe the liquid with your forefinger, before lapping it clean inside your mouth, internally revolting at the taste.

“Damn, this is crazy. How the fuck you are so good at that.” He sighs in delight, looking at you with lidded eyes and evident aftersex glow. “Let me clean you up.” He reaches for the tissue, cleaning his loads on your breast. Both of you involuntary laughs at the current event. 

“Come here.” He crouches down, scoops you into his hold before moving to the bedroom. You abruptly circle your arm around his neck, he closes in for your lips for another make out session on bed. While his tongue is lapping at your own, his fingers move to stimulate you with your hardened nipple until your breath is rigged. His right finger cups your clothed core, giving it a welcomed pressure and humping it until you’re left with moans and satisfied sighs, your finger clutches on his hair, tugging it lightly. 

Seokjin’s lips advanced to your ear,giving it a kittish lick. “And you better be prepared, I will eat you out and fuck you all night afer your period is done, sweetheart..”

*

It’s finally Friday, and you are at your desk for work after lunch. Suddenly, Jane closes in at you. “What are you looking at that seriously?” She inquires, noticing you’ve been staring at the calendar on your desk for longer than anyone should. You turn to her, and shake your head silently. 

“No, I just realized that it's soon December.”

“So?”

“It’s soon will be Seokjin’s birthday. He’s turning 34.”

Jane nods in understanding. “Will you get him anything?”

“I don’t know.” You tap your chin, thinking of what to get him. You’ve been scrolling through commerce websites, yet to find even an idea about what to give to him. And it hits you—maybe you don’t really know him after all. “What did you get your husband for his birthday?”

She chuckles. “Last birthday I gave him a responsibility of a lifetime—my pregnancy test came out positive. I wouldn’t say it was a very good birthday present though, as we didn’t really expect a pregnancy after all.”

It dims you right away. Pregnancy? It is too far fetched, right? You haven’t even discussed it with Seokjin—and you don’t want to directly throw him a responsibility for another life being when your romantic relationship has basically just started. Days after days of late nights humping and blowjobs, waiting for your period is over is not basically a very firm foundation for having kids. You don’t even know if you’re ready for it.

And today is the last day of your period. Seokjin has actually asked if you want a dinner together—and you said yes. Based on his promise, today should also be the day you will be making love till dawn. But this dampens your mood a bit, at the thought of having kids frightens you. 

Scrolling through instagram, you see that Tasha, your sister-in-law has posted a series of photos from the previous birthday lunch of your father-in-law. The first photo is the five of them smiling together, the second is their three children with the grandparents, and the next one is Seokjin, smiling while he’s caging Taehyun’s little frame inside his arms. You smile longingly at that. Nobody can deny it though—Seokjin is amazing with kids, you know how much he loves them. And there are countless times you pity him for marrying you—as children were never part of your plan before.

But now you love him. And so does he.

And the thoughts have been haunting you that even when you’re seated in front of him in a high class restaurant, Seokjin can sense something is bothering your mind. He holds you by the hand across the table, and how you instinctively flinch confirms his suspicion. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You smile nervously at him, shrugging. “I am fine, but yeah.. Something is just.. bugging my mind, that’s all.”

“What is it?” He asks softly, a bit worried. “Don’t you like this place? Are you cold? You’re not sick, right?”

“It’s not it.” You giggle at his cute attention. “I just... you know, I saw the date and realized that you’re having a birthday soon. I just don’t know what to get you. A bit upset that maybe it feels like I don’t know you that well, that’s all.”

His face lightens at that, the creases of his smile evident. “No, you don’t have to get me anything. I’m just happy with what we have right now.” He gazes at you, pulling your hands to give it a light kiss. “I am just.. very thankful that you’re here.”

“But I want to give you something.” You frown, looking down. “It feels like you’re always taking care of me, and I’m always at the receiving end.”

“Why are—Y/N, you are the most selfless person I know. The way you take care of me just shows how much I owe you with anything I have. I want to make you happy, as you already made me the happiest I can be.” He explains in rush, like he’ll suffocate if you don’t realize how precious you are to him any time soon.

“Thank you.” You gratefully replies, holding back the tears from falling.

The next two hours, you’re already in bed with Seokjin on top of you, both your clothes are far long discarded on the floor. His palm is grabbing your succulent mounds, his right palm on the bed beside your face. His lips are lapping at yours, savoring the wine you consumed from the previous dinner.

“Seokjin, please put your dick inside me.” You moan before biting his lower lips. He smirks haughtily.

“Not so fast. I promised I’d eat you, didn’t I, kitten?” He questions, before moving his kisses to your neck, breast, stomach and to your thigh. You bite your own lips, your breath hitched when feeling the cold air he blows to your throbbing core. 

He laps at your cunt, his fingers sensually moving in circles for stimulation, and when his tongue is finally in contact with your clit, you feel the new wave of arousal is dripping out. Seokjin grins, instantly welcoming it with his tongue that leaves you a moaning mess. “Kitten, you’re dripping so much. Do you want to be fucked that badly?”

“Yes, yes, daddy. Don’t hesitate, please fuck me.” You breath out, finally pulling his face closer to your cunt. Seokjin slaps them harshly, eyes turning dark at your disobedience.

“Are you not going to be patient, kitten? Do you want daddy to stop fucking you?”

The thoughts literally scare your whole being that you deters from touching him. “Daddy, please. Fuck me, stuff me with your big cock.”

After that he continues on with his crazy good tongue, moving in and out of you until you screams his name in pleasure. Not only his tongue, his digits enter you in exchange, furthering them inside to scissors you until you are crying of ecstasy. As your orgasm builds up, he circles your clit in wondrous motions with simultaneous licking your cunt which helps you reach your edge. And not even another minute, you cum generously on his tongue.

Few minutes of reaching your breath, Seokjin laughs at your fucked out expression, your orgasm has caught up with you. You are literally glowing with sweat and satisfaction that it literally takes his breath with how blissful you feel, because of him.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby. I still need to ride you, need you to cum inside me.” You remind him right after finding his strangely contented expression staring down at you. “Just... let me take a breather, okay?”

“Are you sure you can ride me? It seems like you lost all your energy.” He giggles, plopping beside you on bed, pulling you close to his chest, that you are leaning on his arm. “I am marrying a fifty years old. How come you already lost your stamina after an orgasm?”

“It’s not it! I’m just a bit tired after work.” You scowl, rolling your eyes at his teases. “You are so annoying.”

He smirks, pecking you in the lips. “But you love me, right?”

“My fault, I know.” You huff. In Seokjin's hearty smile, and you suddenly are  reminded of the photo of him Tasha posted this afternoon. 

“Seokjin. Can I ask you something?” You ask, fidgeting your finger. Seokjin hums. “You know, I saw Tasha posted a photo of you and Taehyun this morning. And I was just thinking… if you want a child?”

“What?” He looks down at you, a bit of confusion written on his face that it scares you he’ll not take this like you want him to.

“No, it’s just—I just think that you like kids very much and they like you too, I am just thinking if you want a child. I don’t mean it now, b-but if y-you want now—”

“Sweetheart, has this been bothering your mind when we had dinner? About having a child?”

You look down, suddenly not courageous enough to face him, afraid of finding the disappointment or doubt in his eyes. “Yes. No. Maybe? I don’t know.”

Seokjin closes you again now that you are chest by chest, face by face, his arms circling your back. “I want everything with you, Y/N. At the right place, at the right time.”

He continues, fixes your locks and rests a few lost strands behind your ear lovingly. “I know this has been hard, especially for you. Pregnancy, birthing is never easy, and I know it’s not really in your plan, even including me. So I will never force you to anything. I want everything you want, okay? And it’s your body. It’s your choice.”

You nod, burying your face on his shoulder, finding purchase on the musky scent of his. Oh, how much you love this man. “Thank you. I don’t know why you always have the rightest thing to say. I really, really envy and love you for it.”

“You went through for me. Of course I want to give you everything. I love you, Y/N, until the sea sleeps.” 

“Until the sea sleeps?” You cocks your head in questions. He nods affirmatively.

“Yes. If life is the sea, I want to go through it with you. Until it ends. Until it sleeps.” He plants kisses lovingly on your forehead, to your nose, and finally, to your lips. But at once you finally push him on his back, internally shouting in joy at his choice of grand large bed.

“How can you say such thoughtful and beautiful words with your dick is pressing on my stomach.“ You hisses in fake chagrin, before continuing. 

“I love you too, but for now let me ride you, daddy...” You whisper sensually, grinding at his half-erected cock. Seokjin smirks in amusement, resting both his palm behind his head as he enjoys the lewd sight, your breast jiggling wonderfully, your cold hands palming his dick.

Oh god, how much he loves you...

*

2 Years Later....

“Honey, can you help grabbing the diapers?” You pleaded from your bedroom, carefully cleaning your five months old baby girl, throwing away the spoiled diapers near your feet. Seokjin quickly arrives with a fresh set of diapers, baby oils, a fresh pair of baby overalls and beige shirt.

“Thank you, honey, you’re the best.” You smile as he pecks your lips slightly. You continue your work in changing Mina’s clothes as the baby lets out a light gurgles, Seokjin sitting across the bed, his lips curling at the beautiful sight. 

After finally falling in love with each other two years ago, you and Seokjin decided to go with your own pace and did not rush into having kids. It was the best decision after all, not a hint of doubts when you knew he’s just as invested as you are in this marriage. You decided to savor it all, both you and Seokjin took leave from work and humdrum life to explore the other side of world together. 

And eight months together passed, you and him both decided it would be the perfect time for you to start getting off the birth pill. Few months of trying and getting pregnancy, you and Seokjin are granted the beautiful healthy baby girl, whom both you named as Kim Mina.

Holding her then or now, you just know she’s already the best gift of your life that you’d do anything for her happiness and well being. 

“So, is Taehyung and Tasha anywhere near our house?” You ask, glancing at the clock. “They are probably the only people I’d worry at this point. All my work friends are already on the way. Yoongi is already in the way, right?”

“Yes he is. But no worry about Taehyung, sweetheart. I have made him promise or else he’ll have to be a clown for Mina’s birthday party.” Seokjin laughs. “All the food is served, everything is in the way it should be. We are going through this.”

“I can’t believe we’re finally having a housewarming party. And a baby too.” You laugh dreamily, picking up Mina to cradle on your chest. “Four years ago us would never believed this.”

“Four years ago Seokjin was a blind fool, I had to say. He almost missed the greatest woman on the planet.” Seokjin warmly back hugs you, kissing your cheek lovingly. You hum in mirth. “Luckily this greatest woman is willing to fight for him. The greatest gift for that lucky bastard, I have to say.”

“Well, she loved him too much, I have to say. It was all worth it.”

With the end of the sentence, a chime of bell is heard—somebody is coming. You quickly walk to the door with Seokjin on your side. The first one to arrive is Hoseok and Jungkook, the only single bachelor of the party. “Hi, Y/N, Seokjin! Congratulations, the house is incredible.” Both of them give you a sided hug, and Jungkook shoves two bottles of wine on your hold. 

“Drink up!” Jungkook giggles, kissing your baby’s cheek as he taps on Seokjin’s shoulder as a greeting, walking into your house to your tables of served dishes. 

In a spare of minutes, few of yours and Seokjin friends are walking in—Jane and her family, Namjoon and his wife and kid, and Yoongi with his girlfriend. You welcome them all with a wide smile, thankful for their presence.

Your parents and Seokjin’s surprisingly arrive right after each other, simultaneously gushing at their grandchild. “Mina! My very cute grandchild!” Your mother squeals in delight after giving you and Seokjin a greeting hug. Seokjin’s mother immediately scoops Mina out of your grasp, moving inside the house to play with her.

Walking around talking with your friends, another bell chime is heard from the door. You and Seokjin walk to open it, finding Jimin on the door with Yoonji, his wife of three months. Their face instantly lightens up at you, and you move to hug the blissful new couple. 

About Jimin, he finally moved back from Sydney to Seoul for good one and a half years ago. He was taking over a few branches of his father’s business, and you started rekindling the friendship with him. And you don’t want to brag, but you are the matchmaker for Jimin and Yoonji. She was the new assistant manager at your unit, and one dinner, you invited Jimin for dinner with your work friend’s and they instantly hit the bat right away. It doesn’t even take a year for Jimin to get on one knee and propose to her.

“Hi, Seokjin.” Jimin grins in courtesy. Seokjin answers with a laugh, pulling the younger guy into a side hug. You point Yoonji her way to Hoseok and Jungkook. “Congrats on the new house, man. This place is great.” Jimin sincerely compliments, handing him a large box of  housewarming gifts which Seokjin gladly receives with loud squeaky laughs of thank you.

It’s also been a year since Jimin had the talk with Seokjin, in which they bonded over alcohol and food. Jimin also apologized to what he did a few years back, and Seokjin instantly accepted it—no hard feelings, knowing that it was for the best as he finally found you, the best thing that happened to him. After that, Jimin basically joins the gang with Seokjin and Yoongi, and also hangs out with your friends slash his wife’s friend. It was all good.

After the housewarming party time finally arrives, the helper hands the drinks in tray for a toast. You lean onto Seokjin’s chest, as he begins the welcoming toast.

“Thank you everyone for coming. This hasn’t been a very easy ride with me and Y/N, but we are very thankful to where we are right now. A beautiful baby, a great house, a great loan—” Everyone chuckles at his joke. “ —but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wanna say thank you to my wife, who has stood by me through thick and thin. I’d never be able to do it without you.”

Suddenly, the shouts to kiss are visible—high chance initiated by Jeon Jungkook—and you giggle before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. The aws are heard, and Seokjin looks back to the audience. “Thank you to my family and friends. Your great support is the reason we are here right now. I am very grateful.”

“Let’s toast, for this wonderful day. May we always be healthy and happy. Cheers!” Seokjin smiles and clinks his glass of champagne to yours. The sound of glass clinking against each other is heard simultaneously, and you sips on the beverage. Seokjin gazes down on you, a toxicated smile on his lips. 

“What?” You ask, falling a bit shy.

“I am so happy. You make me very happy, and I thank you for that.” He closes, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you, sweetheart. Until the sea sleeps.”

You hum in serenity, savoring his wondrous scent. “I love you too, baby. Until the sea sleeps.”

Suddenly, the doors are busted open, Taehyung rushed eyes staring confusedly at the large group of people settling on their places, Taehyun on his grasp. “Am I late? I don’t have to be a clown, right?!”

Just an disinterested glace before the crowd disperse around the home in group. Seokjin cunningly smirks at him, walking closer and taps his shoulder in a fake comforting manner. 

“Sorry, brother. Looking forward to you coming as a clown in Mina’s birthday party, okay?”

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, but is not missed by your approaching mother-in-law. She immediately screeches loudly in anger, completely enraged with both hands on hips.

“Kim Taehyung! Your son is there, and you curse?! How dare you set out a bad example for your son?!”

He grimace, glaring at you and your husband who are laughing heartily at his clear misery.

“Lord, have your mercy.”

Thank you for reading! it’s such a great ride writing this. Credits to one quora answer I read that inspires this whole fluffy prompt. And all the smut writers that inspired me on writing such unholy scenes lol

Do slide into my ask box and let me know what you think! 🤩💜💌  And check out my other fics ➡ (click here)!

[sofwrites]

here to send a "feeling another human's touch" prompt your way 💕- gregory/lucy, either 19 or 33 (your choice! 😌)

I picked the kissing the smiles one again because I'm a sappy lil' mushball for my sweet babies Lucy and Gregory xx

find this one and more Bridgerton blurbs on ao3

Touching prompts located here

33: tasting their smile

Gregory Bridgerton loved Lady Lucinda Abernathy Bridgerton’s lips.

He loved the way her lips moved when she spoke, and how they pursed when she thought, and how they curved when she smiled. He also loved the way they felt pressed against his own.

And he especially loved making up any excuse to kiss them.

Excuse #1: Because Lucy is nervous

During their first trip to Aubrey Hall as a married couple (only a few weeks after their small but charming wedding), Gregory Bridgerton kissed his new wife quite a few times.

“I can’t believe I’m back here,” Lucy said as she looked out the window of the carriage. “I especially can’t believe I’m back here as a Bridgerton of all things.”

Gregory grinned as he watched her mouth carefully press together, just a hint of an upwards curve present. “I’m quite impressed that you’re willing to endure an entire week with my family so soon.”

She gave a shy smile as she turned to look at him, “Oh, I’m absolutely terrified. Especially of-”

“Hyacinth,” they both said in unison, and Gregory gave her a tiny smirk.

“Well, the rest of the family will keep her at range, I’m sure,” he continued, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. “Especially if you manage to get into the good graces of Amanda and Oliver. If anyone can take on Hyacinth, it’s them.”

He could almost see the gears of Lucy’s mind working as she nodded, as if she were shuffling through a list only visible to herself. She’d spent a rather great deal of time (when she wasn’t busy enjoying her life as a newlywed) committing his incredibly large family to memory. It was an arduous undertaking, one Gregory even had difficulty with (in addition to his already amounted eighteen nieces and nephews, he’d run in on his siblings and their spouses more than enough times to know that they didn’t plan to stop producing more children anytime soon). But if anyone was up to the task, it was his Lucy.

“Amanda and Oliver,” she mumbled to herself, tapping her fingers as if she were counting. “Phillip’s children by birth. Adopted by Eloise. Eleven years old and…”

“Absolute monsters,” he drawled with a twinkle in his eye. “Very good allies to hold.”

Lucy let out a humored snort, “And how would Phillip and Eloise feel about that description?”

“Oh, they would completely agree,” he said in a tone that was so matter-of-fact that his wife actually got a chill.

“Lucy, Lucy, Lucy,” Gregory said for no reason other than because he loved how it sounded, pulling her a bit closer. “You’ll be great, I’m sure of it.”

She smiled as his arms wrapped around her, picking up her own hand to rest on his cheek. “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be fine.”

He rested his forehead against hers for a moment before meeting their lips together, feeling the raised corners of her mouth. He could practically taste her happiness, with just a hint of apprehension mixed into it.

“I love you, Lucy,” he whispered against her lips, feeling her smile widen.

“And I love you, Gregory.”

Excuse #2: Because Lucy apologized

The first of Lucy’s apologies that week came just a few moments after their arrival to Aubrey Hall. It was given to Lady Kate Bridgerton, who had rushed out to the front entrance to greet them. “Oh, my new favorite couple,” she beamed at them. “We weren’t expecting you for another few hours.”

Lucy’s eyes widened just slightly in horror and Gregory had to bite the inside of his lip to not laugh. “I’m very sorry, Kate. We thought that the road would take longer.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. I’m very happy to get you both before the militia arrives.” Kate waved a brisk hand before pulling them both into tight hugs that made Lucy’s heart surge with affection. “Now, you two must be hungry, correct? I can have something prepared in the breakfast room.”

Lucy smiled in gratitude, but Gregory cut in before she could even finish opening her mouth to reply. “Actually, could we have a tray sent up to our room? I think we’d like to freshen up first.”

Kate’s eyebrow quirked up just slightly before she gave them a blank smile. “Of course. Do try to be down by tea, the rest of the family should be arriving by then.”

As Gregory winked and pulled his wife away by the hand, Lucy cast Kate an apologetic smile. And once they were out of earshot, she dryly said, “That was very well done of you.”

She looked at him for a reply, but quickly she was twirled around and her back became pressed into the wall. Lucy’s face flushed just a tiny bit before whispered, “Hello there.”

“I just couldn’t wait to do this,” Gregory grinned before kissing her swiftly on the lips. “You just look so fetching when you apologize.”

Lucy rather uncharacteristically giggled, trying to hide the embarrassed smile on her face.

She ended up apologizing one hundred and forty-six times over the course of that week. And Gregory kissed her after one hundred and twenty-eight of them.

Lucy would know because, of course, she had kept count.

Excuse #3: Because Lucy ate an exceptionally good breakfast

With exceptional pride, Gregory placed a second plate of bacon in front of his wife. “For my beloved.”

Lucy’s head tilted slightly as she looked at him with another glorious smile. “And whatever for? I’ve enough breakfast as it is.” But even as she said it, he could see her eyes wander to the plate.

“I didn’t think you got yourself enough,” he grinned as he resumed his seat next to her. “And,” he dropped his voice to a low whisper, “you really should take everything you can get before Colin comes down. He’ll put even your appetite to shame.”

She scoffed lightly before blandly muttering, “I’m so very glad that my husband considers me such a glutton.”

Gregory gave her a cheeky look. “You need your energy. You promised that we’d conduct a lawn game for the children this afternoon.”

Lucy nodded as she considered the bacon in front of her. After a few moments, she gave a more determined nod before picking up a piece.

He turned his head to watch her chew, a huge, toothy grin on his face. After she swallowed, Lucy gave him a wry look. “Was there something you needed?”

Gregory chuckled, “I just like looking at you.”

“Well, I hope you still feel that way after I beat you in our race today.”

“I think we both know that I’m quite a fast runner.”

With a small smile, Lucy said, “I suppose you are.”

Even though she was mid-bite, he leaned over to kiss her upturned lips.

“You taste like bacon,” he teased after she pulled away.

“And you taste a bit like kippers.”

Gregory grimaced, “Well, that’s not very good, is it?”

Lucy shrugged casually. “Maybe not for everyone, but I enjoyed it enough.”

He kissed her with reverence once more before pulling away, tasting his own tongue. It really did taste a bit like kippers. “Perhaps toast and marmalade for us both next time,” he suggested.

Lucy wholeheartedly agreed.

[definitelyseven]

liability | sixteen (m)

summary: reporter meets mafia boss, Park Jinyoung

one | two | three | four | five | six (m) | seven (m) | eight | nine (m) | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen | fourteen (m) | fifteen | sixteen (m) | seventeen | eighteen - final |

Thirty past noon. He was thirty minutes late. You should’ve known better than to meet up with him, but Jinyoung didn’t give you a choice. 

“Miss, would you like to order something to eat?” the waitress asked for the third time. 

“I’m sorry. I’m waiting for someone,” you answered giving her a small smile. 

“I’m surprised Y/N. I didn’t think you’d actually meet me. I didn’t think he would allow you to,” Jaehyun teased as he sat down across from you. “Coffee, please.”

“You’re late,” you tell him.

“I’m a very busy man,” he smirked. “And I have something you want. The least you can do is wait for me.”

“I know you won’t give me what I want that easily. So what do you want for it?” you asked, getting straight to the point. 

“It’s not what I want. It’s what she wants,” he points behind you. You quickly turned around to see her - Hyewon.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

“Hi Y/N,” she said with a smile before leaning down to kiss Jaehyun’s cheek. 

“You’re together?” you questioned. “No way...”

“What? Surprised that I found someone better than Jinyoung?” she smirked before sitting down next to him. 

“Don’t waste my time. What do you want?” you repeated.  

“I told you. It’s not what I want. It’s what she wants,” Jaehyun chuckles, glancing over at Hyewon. 

“One day,” she said. “All I want is your time.”

“For what?” you asked, suspicious.

“I’ve always lived in your shadow. It’s about time you lived in mine don’t you think?” she smirked, crossing her arms across her chest. 

So you agreed, thinking how bad could it be? She used you like a horse. You followed her around all day, carrying her bags, fetching her whatever she needed. Five hours in to the day, she had you trying every single piece of clothing in the store for her as she sat on her ass, judging every outfit you put on. 

“That dress makes you look like a hippo. Why does everything look bad on you?” she judged while sipping her champagne. 

“What’s the next outfit?” you asked, ignoring her brutal comments. You wished you dressed more comfortably, but Jinyoung’s mother upgraded every piece of clothing you had, telling you it didn’t fit Jinyoung’s style. 

“That one,” she pointed a piece of lingerie. “Give us a little show, won’t you?”

“What? No I’m not trying that on,” you rejected. 

“I guess you don’t want to know as badly as I thought you did,” Hyewon said setting down the glass of champagne. “Put it on and give us a show and I’ll call it a day.” You hesitated but agreed. It couldn’t be that bad, right? It was like a bikini. You walked out of the changing room with your arms wrapped around your body, trying to cover every part that was exposed. “That’s not a show. Do you want the information or not? Stop making me wait!” she yelled at you.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, rubbing your arms up and down. 

“I fucking told you why! Give us a show or I’m leaving and you’ll never know.”

You swallowed your pride and let your arms down. You walked around the store in lingerie. People in the store were staring and pointing at you. There was nothing you can do, but take it.

“Wow it’s cold in here,” Jaehyun said as he walked into the store. He removes his blazer and places it over your shoulders, covering you up.

“Jae!” Hyewon said standing up almost instantly. “We were just -” 

“I’ll take it from here. You can go home,” he tells her. She glares at you and bitterly walks away. “Sit,” he tells you. You tugged his blazer closer to your body as you sat down next to him. 

“You’re not the bad guy you make yourself out to be,” you said, making him chuckle. 

“You’re telling that to the guy that had you kidnap?” he joked.

You laughed, “I’ve been acting like a clown all day. Are you finally going to tell me what I want to know?”

“Don’t you think it’s weird you know nothing about the man you’re marrying?” he asked.

“You’re right. I know nothing about him,” you agreed. “But you know why I’m marrying him.”

“We’ve been civil this whole conversation.”

“True, but can you guarantee that tomorrow?” you sighed, hugging his blazer tight against your chest. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“If he wants to keep it a secret from you, don’t you think it’s best to leave it alone?” Jaehyun asked. You were surprised by his soft side.

“No matter how many times I begged, he won’t tell me why he left me. This is the one thing that’s standing in between our marriage. I can’t marry him not knowing,” you explained.

“Then why should I tell you? Why would I help him?” he pointed out.

“Because you’re not the bad guy you make yourself out to be,” you repeated. “You don’t want to hurt me.”

“Not you. Him. I want to hurt him,” he reminded as he looked at you. He reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hear someone call from behind. It was a voice the both of you were familiar with; Jinyoung. 

“You called him?” you asked Jaehyun. He smirks, nodding. 

You quickly stood up, making sure to cover yourself completely. “Jinyoung...” you called his name.

“Let’s go,” Jinyoung interrupted while grabbing you by your arm. 

“Wait. I have to change,” you stopped him. You quickly got changed and left the store with Jinyoung who was walking way too fast for you. You knew he was upset with you. “Jinyoung,” you called his name, stopping in your steps. He turns around to face you. “My feet hurt,” you complained.

Jinyoung walks back to you and grabs your hand, gesturing you to sit down on a bench. He runs back into the store you were both just in and comes back with a pair of comfortable shoes. "Better?” Jinyoung asked as he finished tying your shoelaces. You nodded. “Let’s go,” he said again, but this time he holds your hand. The whole ride home was silent. He didn’t talk you or look at you, but his hand never left yours. He held it tight as if he was afraid to lose you. 

“Mrs. Park,” you greeted as soon as you walked into the door. She looks at you up and down. 

“What are you wearing?” she said in disbelief. You let out a small sigh, tired of being judge all day. “Those sneakers with your outfit. How could you walk out like that?” she continued to ask.

“Mother, let it go.”

“I may not be able to have a say about your wedding, but I am still your mother, her mother-in-law. I will not let her walk around looking shabby like that. It’s embarrassing,” she tells you both.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Park. It won’t happen again,” you assured her before heading upstairs with Jinyoung following quickly behind. “Don’t you want to know why I was with him?” you suddenly asked. 

“No I don’t want to know,” he replied, untying his tie and tossing it on the couch. 

"If he can find out I was pregnant two years ago, he can find out why you left me,” you revealed. 

“What?” Jinyoung turns to you, angry. “You’re so desperate to find out why I left you, you were willing to strip down naked for him,” he accused. 

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know you,” he said walking away from you. 

You chuckled in disbelief. “Let’s call off the wedding then,” you suggested. 

Jinyoung turns around to look at you, “No, I won’t call off the wedding.”

“Jaehyun was right.”

“What?” he asked, confused and angry. 

“You said it yourself too. You don’t know me. Why get married to someone you don’t know?” you asked him. “I told you. This is the one thing standing in between us. I won’t get married unless you tell me the truth.”

“Why can’t you just let it go?” 

“I can’t let it go. I won’t,” you said with tears in your eyes. “You left me and that’s a fact. But what I went through, you’ll never know,” you spatted.

“I do know...”

“No you don’t,” you argued. “I carried him in my stomach. I felt his kick, his movements,” you cried. “You didn’t lose him. I lost him. And you’ll never know what it feels like.”

Jinyoung looks up from his feet, with tears in his eyes. “No, you have no idea. I know. I know exactly what it feels like.”

“What?”

Jinyoung walks up to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands. He stares at you. “The reason I left you two years ago. I’ll tell you everything if you want to know so badly.” He brings you over to the bed, sitting down next to you. “Remember when we first met? You overheard me talking on the phone with someone about the house by the lake.” You nodded, recalling the memory at the lake house. “They found you when you tried to warn me not to come. You saved me so I had to save you,” Jinyoung explained, holding your hand. “You became my liability that day.”

“I know,” you smiled softly at him.

“I lied to you. You asked if I killed those men and I said I didn’t, but I did. I did kill them,” he admitted. You glanced over at him. Your eyes met his, “When we were in Paris, Mark got a called from my father’s body guard. Their brother found out I killed them so they sought revenge and went after my father. They killed him.”

Your eyes widen, shocked at the words that just came out of his mouth. “No...” Your eyes clouded with tears, “But...but I didn’t see it on the newspapers.”

Jinyoung wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. “I left because I had to take care of the aftermath. We couldn’t let the public know or else everyone would come after us.”

“Jinyoung...” you whimpered, looking up at him.

“I was mad at myself. I didn’t know how to face my family, I didn’t know how to face you. I blamed you.”

“It’s all my fault,” you repeated after him as tears fall from your eyes. You tried to move away from him, but he holds you tight against his chest.

“You didn’t do anything. I made those choices and I chose to save you. I chose to make you my liability,” he explained. “I didn’t contact you because I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to feel guilty like I did.”

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed in his chest. 

“Shhh...” he comforted. “It’s already in the past. I’ve moved on already.”

“Does your mother know?” you asked, looking up at him with tears still in your eyes. 

“She knows.”

“That’s why she doesn’t like me,” you concluded. “I killed her husband.”

“I don’t want you to say things like that ever again,” Jinyoung said wiping your tears away. “I needed time to figure everything out, clean up the mess. I also realized how easy it was for me to lose someone I love. I mean look at my father. He has more body guards than I do, and look what happened to him.”

“You really were protecting me.”

“I tried too,” Jinyoung pulled you away to look at him. “Now you know everything. You know I’m a liar and a murderer. Do you still want to marry me?” he asked tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Yes,” you nodded with tears in your eyes. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Jinyoung smiles, pulling you in for a kiss. “That’s the first time you said you’ll marry me willingly.”

“I’m sorry Jinyoung. I hated you for so long. If only I knew -”

“I didn’t want you to know. I made a decision to leave you and it cost us our baby. I’m the one that should apologize,” Jinyoung said giving your forehead a gentle peck. 

You shook your head, “What do we do?”

He strokes your cheeks gently with his thumb. “We move on. We forgive each other and move on.” After several attempts to calm you down and being unsuccessful, Jinyoung carries you to the bathroom to draw you a bath. “Call me when you’re done,” he said kissing your cheek. 

“Don’t leave me,” you tell him. 

“I would never,” he said stroking your cheek. The both of you strip down naked and climbed into the bath tub together. He pulls your body close to his as you laid your head on his shoulder. “Feeling better?” 

“Mhmm...” you hummed, snuggling closer to him. 

“I love you,” Jinyoung whispered against your temple. “So much...”

You turned to face him and for the first time you whispered back, “I love you too.” Jinyoung smiles, pulling you in for a kiss. His arms wrapped around your naked waist, pulling you close to him as he rubbed your back up and down. You gently placed your hand on his chest, feeling his tongue slip in your mouth. His tongue roams in your mouth, shoving it down your throat and making you moan. Jinyoung’s lips wanders down to your jaw where he leaves subtle kisses along it. 

“I love you,” he whispered in your ears as he nibbles and sucks on your earlobe. You threw your head back, letting out a soft moan. “You’re so beautiful,” he complimented. You feel Jinyoung’s teeth graze against the skin on your neck, leaving a light red mark. 

“The wedding’s tomorrow. Don’t leave a mark,” you warned him. You tangled your fingers in his hair, slightly tugging on it. 

“I’ll mark the places no one, but me can see,” he said against your skin. He lifts your body up closer to his - your core just above his now hardened member. You core was coated with your juices, dying to be touched. Jinyoung reaches for your core, running his fingers up and down your folds, stopping at your clit. His thumb presses against your clit, making you moan. 

“Fuck...” you moaned, attempting to spread your legs further apart in the bath tub. 

“Even in water I can feel how wet you are,” Jinyoung smirked before wrapping his lips around your breast. He slips two fingers into your core, pumping it in and out vigorously. You dug your nails in his chest, dragging it down to his torso. It immediately turns red. “I missed hearing your moans,” Jinyoung whispered in your ear. 

“Don’t stop...” you begged, bouncing on his fingers. He picks you up out of the bath tub and carries your naked body back to your shared room. Jinyoung lays you down on the bed and then climbs on top of you. 

“Have I told you, you’re beautiful?” he smiles down at you. You laugh, nodding. He leans down to give your lips a soft peck before moving down to your core. He spreads your legs apart, blowing a breath of cold air into your wet pussy.

“Hurry up,” you whined. 

“Is someone needy?” he teased, tracing his fingers up and down your folds. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes...” you stuttered. Jinyoung’s grip on your thighs tightened. You let out a loud gasp once you feel his thick lips on your pussy. He sucks on your fold meticulously, lapping up all your juices. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his face deeper into your pussy. His tongue enters your core making your whole body shiver in pleasure. His hand spreads your folds, exposing your clit to the cold air. Jinyoung rubs your clit in circular motions. You squirm in pleasure as you feel the pit in your stomach grow. “Fuck...Jinyoung,” you moaned his name out loud. “Fuck...” Your moans were music to his ears. His hand on your core quickens as you keep squirming underneath him. He knew you were close. “Don’t stop....don’t stop...” you begged again and again. You screamed his name out loud as a wave of pleasure overwhelms your body. 

“You taste just as good as I remember baby,” he smiles, moving away from your core. You got on your knees in front of him. “You don’t have too.”

“I want too,” you said firmly. “Let me.” 

You leaned down close to his hardened member. You quickly looked up at him. Jinyoung smiles down at you, stroking your cheek. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out at him while keeping your eyes on him. You placed his cock on your tongue before wrapping your mouth around it and giving it a long hard suck. Jinyoung lets out a low groan, grabbing your hair in a ponytail. He tried to control himself, being as gentle as possible but he couldn’t control it. His grip on your ponytail tightens as he forces his cock down your mouth; his tip hitting the back of your throat. You choke, but he doesn’t stop. He continues to shove his cock down your throat. Your hands wrapped around his cock, moving in sync with your mouth. 

“Fuck baby, that feels so good.” Jinyoung finally pulls his cock out of your mouth when he feels that he’s close. Your eyes were red and filled with tears; saliva dripping down your chin. “You were so good,” he smiles at you, stroking your cheek and wiping your tears away. Jinyoung guides you to sit on top of him, his cock slipping into you. The both of you let out a loud moan. “Fuck baby, you feel so good.”

“Jinyoung...” you moaned, moving up and down his cock. He holds your waist tight, guiding you to bounce on top of him. Jinyoung roughly grabs your neck, pulling you down for a kiss. He shoves his tongue your mouth while reaching your clit. He rubs your swollen pussy in circular motion as you continued to ride him. You reached for headboards for support as you grind your pussy further into him; feeling his tip reach a place that made your body shake in pleasure. “Jinyoung I’m close,” you moaned.

“Almost there baby,” he said picking up his pace when he feels your pussy clench around him. You dug your nails into his skin as a wave of pleasure washes over your body. You hear Jinyoung groan underneath you, feeling his hot seed cover your walls. 

The sound of heavy breaths and panting covered the room. He smiles up at you, pulling you in for a soft kiss before slipping out of you. Jinyoung pulls your body close to his; your back against his chest. He kisses your shoulder as you snuggled close to him. 

You were going to marry this man willingly tomorrow.

a little note from jennie: many of you have asked how many chapters my story has and i honestly don’t have an answer. i write chapters and then post automatically. i don’t preplan any chapters or save any drafts to post later. so i hope you all understand! i’ll be introducing new stories soon. love you all! 

[fridayfirefly]

Lost and Found [Part Eleven]

Masterlist | Ao3

Despite the fact that he didn't get to bed until 2 AM that morning, Damian still woke up at 6 AM with the sunrise. Sleep deprivation was the last worry on his mind when his Soulmate - beautiful, breathtaking Marinette - was sleeping just one hall down from him.

He met Alfred in the kitchen, already preparing for the meals of the day. The waffle batter was already mixed, coffee was already brewing, and butter was already softening on the counter. "Do you need any help preparing breakfast?"

Alfred shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I pride myself in my ability to keep this kitchen under control, no matter how many visitors we have. Besides, I'm sure you would rather spend your morning getting ready for your day with your Soulmate than in the kitchen with me."

Damian nodded. "I'll see you at breakfast, then."

"I look forward to meeting Miss Dupain-Cheng."

Damian left the kitchen and made his way to the gardens, thinking about the night before.

They had gotten back to the Manor at 1:30 AM, too late for the Parisian guests to meet the Wayne family. Damian walked Marinette to her room to let her get some rest, wishing all the while that they could stay up together until the sunrise. Rationally, he knew that Marinette needed her sleep, especially with the drastic time change, but his emotions refused to let her go so soon. However, logic won out in the end, and he kissed her cheek and wished her goodnight. As Damian walked Chloé to her room, taking over for Jason while his brother packed his bags back in his Gotham apartment, Damian asked Chloé for a favor. There was a certain plan he wanted to put into action, that he needed some assistance with. Chloé agreed to help him out and their plan was set: in the morning, Chloé would bring Marinette to her room so that the two girls could get ready together, while Damian brought to Marinette's room a vase of fresh-cut flowers and a handwritten letter asking to take her on a date.

Chloé called his plan "sickeningly romantic", but said it with the sort of wistful smile that made Damian send a text to Jason advising his brother to bring flowers for his own Soulmate. Maybe it was sickeningly romantic, Damian thought over the concept, but he knew that it wasn't a bad thing. Emotions had been difficult for him at first, growing up the way he did, but he now knew better than to try and hide that part of himself from Marinette.

Damian already picked out which flowers to cut days in advance, fragrant purple wisteria and delicate white roses, which he got from the garden before the morning dew had burned off of them. He placed them in the glass vase, arranging and re-arranging them the whole way up to Marinette's room. He knocked on the door, and when there was no reply, he nudged it open. A flash of red by the window caught his eyes, but by the time his eyes focused on the spot, nothing was there. Shrugging it off as a trick of the light, Damian placed the vase of flowers on her bedside table and set down the note beside it. The note, which despite its simplicity had taken several drafts to perfect, read: Dear Marinette, I hope you slept well last night. Breakfast will be served at 8:00 AM. With your permission, I would like to spend today showing you around the city. Once the wedding approaches, I'm certain that we will both be busier, so I would like to get as much time with you now as possible. Sincerely, your Soulmate, Damian

With his plan completed, Damian left the room to go get ready for his first day with Marinette. He quickly sent a text to Chloé, giving her the all-clear to let Marinette return to her room.

Damian had just gotten out of the shower when he saw a note sitting on his bathroom counter. In what was unmistakably Marinette's handwriting, Dear Damian, I would love to go on a date with you today. Sincerely, your Soulmate, Marinette.

Damian breathed out a sigh of relief as the lingering doubt that Marinette might have changed her mind in the last six hours faded away. It is a silly fear, one that Damian wasn't used to indulging in. However, Marinette seemed to bring out all the little human characteristics that the League of Shadows had trained out of him when he was young. A younger Damian would have hated Marinette for it, but in the present day, in the privacy of his room, Damian smiled and let the feeling of relief wash over him.

——————————————————————

Marinette, Chloé, and Nino were all at the dining room table with Jon when Damian entered the room. Marinette brightened up as soon as she saw him. "Damian!" If Damian thought that Marinette looked beautiful last night (which he did) with tangled hair and tired eyes from a seven-hour plane ride, she looked downright breathtaking that morning, in a pretty pale pink dress, with her hair done up in a bun, tendrils curling around her face.

"Good morning, Marinette. I hope you slept well."

"I slept great." A look of annoyance took over Marinette's face. "Even though someone woke me up early on someone else's orders." Marinette's expression shifted from indignation to a bright smile. "I did appreciate the flowers, though, so thank you for those."

"You're very welcome." Damian was pleased that she liked them. He was a little troubled by how intently he was watching her facial expression. "Concerning our date tonight-"

Damian was cut off by the sound of voices coming down the hallway. Richard walked in beside Babs in her wheelchair, the couple having a lively debate about what to do for their respective bachelor and bachelorette parties. "We have to hire one. How often in your life do you get the opportunity to hire a stripper?" argued Babs.

"Alright," conceded Richard, "We get one stripper, and we have him split time between both parties. Now onto decorations - I'm thinking we each pick the decorations for each other's parties, and then it's like a surprise when we get there. And I'm not only saying this because I found the best bachelorette decorations on eBay and I already placed a bid."

Chloé broke the silence that followed in the dining room, as a muffled laugh escaped the hand she had pressed over her mouth. "I'm sorry, but aren't you Waynes billionaires? Can't you afford to hire two strippers?"

"Not billionaires," Tim chimed in as he walked into the room with Connor. "Every time Bruce comes close to being a billionaire, he increases the wages of all Wayne Enterprise employees except for himself and donates a ton of money to charity."

"I suppose we could hire two strippers, but then what if one of them is better than the other. That wouldn't be fair," mused Barbara.

"We could have them switch halfway through, that way we each get the same experience," Richard added.

"How about, instead of arguing the logistics of strippers, you greet the Soulmates who just arrived last night?" asked Jon, with a tone of voice that very clearly demonstrated how absurd he felt their conversation was. Damian had spent too much time with Richard and Babs over the past few weeks of wedding planning - nothing that came out of their mouths phased him anymore.

"Oh, hello Soulmates of my brothers and Soulmate of my brother's Soulmate's brother. I'm Dick."

"Babs," said Babs with a wave.

"Tim."

"Conner."

Richard started pointing to each of the Parisians. "You must be Marinette, Damian's Soulmate. You're Nino, Jon's Soulmate. And you are..?"

"Chloé, my platonic Soulmate," said Jason as he walked into the room.

"I can introduce myself," snapped Chloé, glowering at Jason, who looked a bit sheepish as he sat down in the chair next to her.

Jason picked up his fork and waved it between Chloé and Marinette. "So you two know each other."

Marinette nodded. "We've all known each other since we were kids. Chloé, Nino, and I have been in the same class since maternelle - which you call kindergarten in America. We've been best friends for years now."

"Now that's a coincidence. Both sets of three Soulmates knew each other before they met up with their other halves." Richard nodded, looking the three Parisians up and down.

"Coincidence is putting it mildly. Statistically, it's incredibly improbable. I didn't run the numbers, but I'm sure if I did, it would be in the range of one in a trillion," Tim piped up.

"Good luck, I suppose," said Marinette with a shrug.

"Luck, coincidence, statistical improbability - call it whatever you want to call it. It's still mind-boggling that out of 7 billion people, you three - best friends who go to the same school - end up with Soulmates who are all family."

The conversation turned to other topics as the table waited for Bruce to arrive before they started breakfast. Richard got Marinette talking about her aspiring career as a designer, and it instantly brought Marinette out of her shell. Her passion and enthusiasm were contagious; Damian couldn't help but smile softly to himself as he watched her explain to Richard and Babs the inspiration behind her latest collection of dresses named The City of Lights, which incorporated elements of Parisian fashion throughout the ages, with a focus on finding innovative ways to incorporate light into the dresses. As Marinette was explaining in depth the pros and cons between tea candles and real candles (according to Marinette, an open flame near your hand-crafted creation is a very big con, but she felt so strongly against tea candle that she would rather her dress catch on fire than ruin the integrity of her design), Bruce walked in, wearing a bathrobe with the words World's Best Dad on the back, plaid flannel pajama pants, and fuzzy slippers. Overall, he looked nothing like the intimidating Batman and everything like a regular Dad on a Saturday morning. Damian had to admit, it was a good strategy for putting their new houseguests at ease, especially Marinette and Chloé, who were meeting their Soulmates' father for the very first time.

"Good morning everyone," said Bruce. He grabbed his coffee mug off the counter, filled it to the brim, chugged it all in one go, then refilled it and took it to the table. "What's for breakfast?"

"Pancakes," Alfred replied as he walked in with a platter stacked full of them. "Please don't spill any syrup on the tablecloth, it's a pain to get out. And before you ask, yes, I am talking to you, Richard."

"One time," Richard grumbled. "You spill an entire bottle of syrup on the tablecloth one time, and suddenly that's all anyone remembers."

Marinette laughed. "I take it I'm not the clumsiest person at the table, then."

"I'm not clumsy. I'm just sporadically situationally unaware," Richard defended.

"Clumsy," teased Babs, flicking Richard's nose and stealing the last bite of pancake off his plate. They were so effortlessly domestic, affectionate with each other all the time in a way Damian was beginning to envy. Damian kept his expression still as he sat in internal shock at the realization that he was jealous of what Richard and Babs had together. Damian was a naturally private person; he had assumed he would despise public displays of affection. However, with Marinette, he could see the appeal. Marinette had flipped his whole worldview on its head. Now he wanted romantic outings and for everyone to know that she was his. It was a strange and foreign feeling, but deep down it felt right.

——————————————————————

As breakfast winded down, Damian offered to show Marinette around the house. The first place he took her was to the gardens. Damian knew that Marinette didn't like surprises all that much, so he planned on explaining to her exactly what they would be doing for their date.

"The gardens are so pretty!" exclaimed Marinette. "Is this where the wedding will be held?"

"Yes. The ceremony will be at the gazebo in the center of the rose garden."

"I'm sure it will be lovely," said Marinette with a soft smile on her face.

"For our date today, I was hoping I could show you around some of my favorite spots in the city. If you would rather stay at the Manor, I understand but-"

Marinette cut him off. "I would love that. I might need to change my shoes though." She gestured to the three-inch heels on her feet."

"I would advise bringing along a pair of good walking shoes. I would hate for you to get hurt."

"It would be a shame to break my ankle on our very first date," agreed Marinette. "I'll just go grab a change of shoes and my purse, and then we can go."

Damian smiled at her. "I'll wait for you here."

Damian watched Marinette leave, thinking of all his favorite things he could finally show her, and all of her smiles he could finally see.

Taglist: @fanboy7794 @mikantsume @hetalia-lover-is-here @howtoshuckatlife @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @redscarlet95 @derpingrainbow @friedchickening @melicmusicmagic @beautym3 @kunstner1 @shizukiryuu @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @crazylittlemunchkin @black-streak @darkshadowguardian @mystery-5-5 @trubel43 @fandomfan315 @vincentvangoose @royalchaoticfangirl @mooshoon @drama-queen-supreme @kae690 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @zoerayne2426 @littleredrobinhoodlum @lunar-wolf-warrior @dani-ari @sam-spectra @be-happy-every-day-please @xxmadamjinxx @interobanginyourmom @northernbluetongue @eliza-bich @romanoff-queen @scribblinggraveyard @dur55 @jeminiikrystal @sassakitty @miss-mysterys-blog @aegyobutpsycho2 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @chaosace @pepelachanel @sturchling @amayakans @athenalovesredsblog @boxercity1

[crownedbyluke]

Long Road Ahead (Chapter 16)

Estelle Finley has been friends with Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings for three years. When the boys bring her along on a jam-packed road trip to Cape Cod with the rest of the band, their adventures are just beginning. Through long hours driving, exploring cities, and hidden secrets, something more is bound to happen on this journey. How will this road trip change Estelle’s friendship with the friends she’s come to love so dearly?

Word Count: 2,527

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four}{Chapter Five} {Chapter Six} {Chapter Seven} {Chapter Eight} {Chapter Nine} {Chapter Ten} {Chapter Eleven} {Chapter Twelve} {Chapter Thirteen} {Chapter Fourteen} {Chapter Fifteen}

“Dad?” I asked, utterly shocked at the mess that was unfolding before my very eyes.

“What? No acknowledging me?” the familiar voice asked. 

I looked just slightly to the left of my father, the familiar face of my brother Wesley came into view. He clearly hadn’t shaved in at least a month with his scraggly half shadow of a beard. It had been at least two years since I had seen him and now, seeing him again, made me want to scream. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked. 

Ashton had his hand on the small of my back, trying his best to comfort me. It felt like everyone in the house was watching me, like I was living my life out on a television screen. 

“You remember your betrothed,” my dad said, gesturing to the man standing behind Wes. 

My heart stopped. A commitment that I had never agreed to and yet, here was my father bringing it back to haunt me. Aiden Harper. He had certainly gotten taller since we were in middle school. The likelihood of him being less of a giant idiot though was probably very small.

“Aiden,” I whispered, still in shock. 

“Who the hell is he Estelle?” Luke asked, voice full of anger. 

I met his eyes, finding the storm of hurt and rage swirling in them. It took everything in my body to not just run over to him. There were more eyes on us than I wanted for a conversation like that. 

“Oh, I suspect she didn’t inform you. This is the man she is intended to marry in two years time,” my dad said. 

Luke clenched his fist. I felt the anger radiating off of him from the stairs. Before anyone got into a fight, I stepped down from the stairs and stood between the two.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. 

“Well darling daughter, you seem to think that I can’t stop you from seeing this man child over there, so I’ve come to prove you wrong,” he said with a smile. 

It was the same smile I had seen my entire life. One of manipulation and dishonesty. 

“How?” I continued. 

“You see, your friends here, well, they sometimes do great work at covering up their partying or their general misuse of their fame, but myself and my contacts are more clever than their publicist. I have a multitude of photos and videos of them misbehaving that would surely ruin any chance they had at making another album,” he said, the smile widening. 

“You’re lying,” Ashton said from behind me. 

“Oh son, you wish I was don’t you? Doubt you’d like that threesome video from your Vegas trip a year ago to get out,” my dad said, gritting his teeth. 

I felt the whole room tense. This was serious and it was happening right in front of my face. There were stories of how my dad would manipulate people into what he wanted, but I had never seen it happen. Some of them felt more fabricated than reality would allow. Yet, it was reality and he was doing everything he could to stop me. 

“What do you want?” I asked, biting back tears. 

It was no longer a question of what I had to do. I’d do it to protect them. Ashton reached for me again, but I moved away. It was my battle now. 

“You’ll be coming home with me right now. You can move into your new house in August and you’ll stay in your tiny little apartment until then. You will no longer speak to these children or be seen with them in the media. Oh and you’ll be seen with Aiden getting engaged next week,” he said. 

My eyes went wide. Engaged? It meant giving away my entire life to a person who would most likely cheat on me the first chance he got. 

“Elle, you don’t-”

“Fine. If I do this, you leave them alone?” I asked, cutting off Calum. 

“Yes.”

“You will never threaten them or harm them?” I pressed. 

“I promise,” my dad said. 

“Fine. I’ll get my stuff,” I said, turning around and marching up the stairs. 

The tears fell down my face as I reached the landing. I was defeated, hurt, and exhausted. All I cared about was protecting them from him. There were footsteps following after me as I opened the door to my room.

“Don’t do this,” Luke said, a waiver in his voice. 

I looked up, seeing the tears in his own eyes that matched mine. 

“If I don’t, you lose your dream,” I said, grabbing the clothes from the closet. 

“We can fight this, make it through this,” he argued. 

“No we can’t Luke! If he has that kind of stuff on Ashton, what do you think he has on you or Cal? I won’t let you guys be collateral damage!” I said. 

“Little dove-”

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

I stopped, balling my fists into the pair of shorts in my hands. That nickname meant so much to me. Luke called me it for the first time after he heard me sing and then he kept using it whenever he was saying something nice or being sweet. It was just our thing. He wrapped his arms around me, taking the shorts out of my hands. His short breaths gave away the fact that he was crying too. We were so close to that happiness I wanted and it was all going away. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.”

He pulled away, pressing his lips against mine shortly before resting his forehead on mine. 

“Don’t walk out the door,” he begged. 

“I have to or else everything you worked so hard for gets ripped from you by that man and I won’t be able to live with myself if that happens,” I said. 

My hands rested on his cheeks, gently running my finger against the stubble growing. This was it. My lips touched his one last time before I went back to grabbing my things. 

“Bugs, you don’t have to do this on your own,” Ashton said from the doorway. 

“Yes I do. You’ll do amazing on the next album,” I said, wiping at my tears. 

“What am I gonna do without you?” he whimpered. 

“I don’t know, but you’ll figure it out.”

He hugged me tightly, putting every last ounce of love into it. 

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, holding on so I didn’t have to let go. 

“Shh, it’s okay.”

After my things were tucked into the suitcase, I gave my last round of hugs. The sound of us all walking down the stairs felt wrong. Everything was wrong. I stopped just short of the door, turning and meeting everyone’s watery eyes. 

“I am so incredibly sorry for this,” I said, the weight of the apology heavy on my heart. 

“Save it dear. They can watch the wedding online,” my dad said, pulling on my arm to get me moving. 

“Don’t touch her!” Luke yelled. 

Everyone stopped again. Things felt like they were going in slow motion. 

“You might be her father, but you will never be her dad. No dad would put his children through this,” he said, voice laced with venom. 

My father smiled at him, letting my arm go. Wesley took my suitcase and nudged Aiden to lead me out of the house. Luke stood there, waiting, but all my father did was smile. Aiden closed the car door after I got in, making me watch Luke stand there as we drove away. Every piece of my heart shattered as I watched him fall to his knees in tears. Timing was a bitch. 

--

TWO MONTHS LATER

LUKE’S POV

“Luke! Come on dude!” Calum yelled from outside my room. 

I had yet to leave my bed and it was already 5 PM. He came by every day to check on me and almost every day, he found me still in bed. 

“Go away!” I yelled back. 

Getting out of bed never felt right or even remotely okay. Since Estelle left, nothing felt right anymore. Everyday was just a different way of going through the motions, barely existing. 

“You gotta get out of bed today,” Calum said, bursting through the door. 

“Why? We don’t have anything to do,” I said, tucking my face into my pillows.

“Maybe, but you haven’t left the house in two months and it’s time you did,” he said, opening the curtains. 

The bright sunshine of L.A. hurt my eyes. Petunia licked my face as she saw the sun. The look Calum gave me felt like one from my mom when I was younger. 

“If I get up, will you leave me alone for the rest of the week?” I asked, slowly sitting up.

“Sure,” he said. 

I knew he was lying from the smile on his face. My feet dragged as I went to the bathroom. Another routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth, and brushing my hair gone. When I came back out, Calum was holding up new clothes. 

“Why?” 

“We are going out so put on something that isn’t sweatpants,” he said. 

I groaned, taking the jeans and button up from him.

“You realize I’m not bringing anyone home right?”

“Yes Luke. Just shut up and get dressed.”

Legs went through the jeans and arms went through the shirt. It was a facade as to the pain that I felt every single day I woke up and remembered I couldn’t be with my person. Calum messed with my hair and patted my back, ushering me out of the house. 

“Be a good girl piggy!” I yelled before Calum closed the door. 

My phone dinged. 

Mentioned: @Luke5SOS when is there gonna be new music?

The muscles in my face relaxed. No tweets from her...again. 

--

ESTELLE’S POV

The setting sun was blinding through the windows of the cafe. Everyone was going about their evenings, enjoying their coffees or teas. A familiar face tucked underneath a hoodie and a baseball hat walked in, the sun behind him making him glow like an angel. 

“One black coffee please,” he said softly. 

Stress from the week of teaching melted away as I listened to him. My iced vanilla latte swirled as I stirred it carefully. The chair squeaked against the tile as he sat down. I met the hazel eyes staring at me. 

“Hey bugs,” he whispered, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Hi there stranger,” I said, a smile slowly coming out. 

“How’s life?” he asked.

“Shitty. I miss you guys,” I said. 

Our hands touched, the slightest bit of relief washed over me. It felt nice to be able to see him again. The weeks we weren’t able to do this seemed to drag on longer than most. It wasn’t easy to forget about the friends I was no longer allowed to see. The moments I had made me feel more guilty than anything else. He turned his palm over, gently squeezing my hand. 

“We miss you too, bugs,” he said. 

I wanted so badly to ask about Luke, but knew it would hurt more than I was prepared for. Ashton squeezed again. 

“He’s doing his best,” he said. 

Tears welled up in my eyes. If Luke was okay then surely, I should be too. 

“How are the kids?” he continued, pulling away.

“Good. They’re still excited about school and spritely,” I said with a shrug. 

“And you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Holding up. I have to be seen with Aiden once a week so I keep my distance as long as possible until our scheduled outings. He goes around sleeping with women in the off time and pretends to be the perfect fiancé in the meantime. Guess that’s life now.”

“I wish it wasn’t that way,” he said, slightly angry. 

“Ash, you know I don’t have that much of a choice,” I argued. 

“I know, but I hate it. I hate that you can’t come over or see us or come to shows. I hate that we have to tell everyone that we aren’t friends anymore. You’re my best friend and I have to hide you.”

“I should go,” I whispered, suddenly no longer feeling up for talking. 

“Bugs, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I should go. I’ve got grading and lesson plans,” I said, cutting him off. 

Without looking, I walked out of the cafe. The pain took over once I closed my car door as it always did after seeing Ashton. The relics of the past hurt more and more and when I attempted to go back to normal or confront them, I ended up crying in my car. The amount of times I had driven past Luke’s place just to see if a light was on was ridiculous at this point. My phone screen lit up with a text, my background of me and Luke bringing on more tears. 

Aida: Miss you. Drinks on Friday?

I ignored it, opting for driving home instead. The drive went by like it always did. My house was empty and lonely. Another thing that was meant to be something else. The exhaustion of the day wore on me as I collapsed into the couch cushions, sleep slowly taking over. 

--

The pounding on my front door woke me from the nap I was taking. I groggily got up from the couch and made my way to it, peeking through the window. 

“What the hell are you two doing here?” I asked, finding a very drunk Luke and Calum. 

“Estelle!” Luke cheered, a giant smile on his face. 

“Again, what are you doing here?” I repeated. 

“I might have given your address to the Uber driver on accident,” Calum admitted. 

“Get in here,” I groaned. 

They shuffled inside behind me. I checked the door to see if any of the press had followed them. Calum fell onto the couch, giggling as he did so. Luke kept staring at me. 

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he mumbled. 

“Shush,” I said, helping him into the guest bedroom. 

He giggled as I tucked him in. I put a glass of water on the side table for him in case he woke up. As I went to turn off the light, he grabbed my hand. 

“I missed you little dove,” he whispered. 

His eyes were sincere and it broke every piece of my heart. Luke fell asleep shortly after speaking, his face becoming relaxed and serene. It reminded me of the first time he ever stayed the night at my place. He had slept so soundly that night that he was asleep until one in the afternoon. My heart ached as I looked at him. 

“He still loves you Elle,” Calum said from the doorway. 

I walked towards the door, shutting off the light as I exited and closing the door behind me. 

“I love him too. Now please go rest in the upstairs guest room,” I said with a sigh. 

Calum stumbled his way up the stairs before closing the door. My head fell into my hands, frustration building. The morning couldn’t come fast enough.

A.N: It’s been ages and I feel horrible for leaving this on such a cliffhanger for so long, but I want to finish this story. It’s almost done. It’s mainly all written and it’s time Estelle and Luke get their story told. So here we go.

tag loves: @tommossoccer​ @bbycal​ @cakesunflower​

[matildashoney]

London Town

Loving You’s the Antidote Extra

MASTERLIST // MOODBOARD // TAG LIST // TAGS // PLAYLIST

TAG LIST: @ihearthemcallingforyou, @goldenfeelin, @detroitkiwis

talk to me about it!

thank you miss @berrynarrybanana​ for creating the sex bucket list fic challenge! i wanted to write something with the mile high club for harry and ames a while ago and this gave me every opportunity to do so. this is pure filth about harry and amelie getting back to london recently after being stuck in malibu during the quarantine.

warning: this is literally 4.4k of filth. i can’t be sorry for what my brain has done. i take no responsibility.

Harry is guarded, to say the least. There was too much happening for him not to be.

One of the security guards that was driving them to the airport got out with Amelie first, making sure that there weren’t any photographers waiting outside for them (which there shouldn’t be, all things considered) and having her get inside to wait for Harry when he was able to get all their luggage and out of the car. Harry was nervous, his hoodie tugged over his head and his passport and identification all sitting in his hoodie pocket. Amelie was wearing the hoodie they bought at a Spice Girls concert the year before, but it was beginning to fit a big snuggly around her tummy and they knew that anyone that saw them would start pregnancy speculations before they could even begin trying to have a baby themselves. Her hand grabs his as soon as he walks beside her, interlocking their fingers and hiding her face in his chest, the exhaustion beginning to set in and the bruising on her hips from the needles beginning to ache as she stands for much too long without rest.

Harry guides them through security, his heart breaking as Amelie knuckles her eyes and desperately clings to her last bit of energy and pouts as his bag gets checked once more and she isn’t able to sink into his embrace as she wants. Considering the amount of time Harry and Amelie have spent together in quarantine, it would have made more sense that they need space, when in fact, Amelie has never been clingier. Not that Harry pays any mind to it. He knows that it’s with the best intentions, all because she loves him and is happy to be with him. Her hormones are messy with the new birth control she was trying, as well, with all intentions to perhaps make her body ready to be pregnant later in the year. All Amelie wanted was a good snuggle a very hefty amount of the day. Harry was happy to give that to her.

Los Angeles International Airport is surprisingly empty, Harry thought there would have been more celebrities trying to get back to wherever they’re from now that flights are slowly beginning to depart again – not that they really should be. Harry is excited to get back to England, London particularly. Amelie, although her heart is in love with California, misses London, misses home. All of the exhibition pieces that she was working on were left there, and for nearly four months her creativity was dry and there was nothing she could think of. Harry misses his family, his home. He even misses Tigger, especially now that he’s been staying with Anne for nearly six months. Harry misses their routine. Amelie misses the comfort of being home.

Malibu is home in a lot of ways.

Malibu is where they said the three words for the first time. Malibu is where they got engaged. Malibu is where they got married on a whim. All of Amelie’s family is nearby and their best friends and godchildren are only a fifteen-minute drive away. Mostly, it’s being together that makes it feel like home. Home is so subjective. To Harry, after travelling for so many years, unsteady relationships, the media overwhelming him with labels and rumours and the way his mental health suffered, Amelie really became the one thing that made the most sense, that made him feel safe. To Amelie, with all that she went through, the idea that someone could make you feel like home was absolutely mad, and there was a nagging voice that always told her she wouldn’t find it, and then Harry waltzed into her life and simply knocked every single thought she had about her life into another world; Harry made her feel as though there was nothing that she couldn’t do, and maybe he was right about that. Home was with each other, no matter where they are or where they go.

Harry squeezes Amelie’s hand, the engagement ring and wedding band ice on his skin. He smiles though, the feeling that the symbol gives him making his eyes sting with tears. He sniffles, drawing her attention and her eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. He shakes his head, kissing her hairline and nodding to the near-empty terminal that was about to board their flight.

“’ey,” Amelie whispers, brushing her thumb under his eye and moving the mask slightly to kiss his cheek, “you okay?”

“Thought about how we’re married and got all,” Harry mutters, his nose in her hair and laughing to himself. “Don’t know, guess m’heart is softer, now.”

“Always has been, baby,” she smiles, laying her thighs over his legs and cuddling into his chest, her eyes falling shut as he gently rubs her back. “Think they’ll yell at us for laying in the same bed, again?”

“Don’t think so since everyone has to stay away,” he mumbles, taking in the way the ten other passengers for the flight are wearing masks and gloves. “Can’t wait to be home and don’t have to wear this thing.”

“Meaning you’re gon’a be naked in the garden most days and dragging me out with you.”

Harry snickers, meeting Amelie’s knowing stare and shrugging his shoulders, “As long as you’re naked, too.”

“Don’t try your luck, Mr Styles,” Amelie sighs, squeezing his hips as his thumb dips beneath the waistband of her leggings. “Harry.”

“Didn’t wear any knickers.”

“Je ne voulais pas qu'ils me montent au cul pendant douze heures,” she whispers under her breath, trying to avoid the entire terminal hearing that her decision this morning was to go without any knickers on an eleven-hour flight.

Harry smirks, tugging his mask to his chin and pressing his lips to the shell of her ear, “Tu essaies d'entrer dans le club du mile high, chérie?” For a man that slept maybe three hours, Harry is awfully horny at barely four in the afternoon.

Amelie lightly smacks his hand as his fingers inch towards her inner thigh, coming dangerously close to her centre. “Harry, I swear to God.”

“Oh, it could be fun, Ames.”

“Ah, yes, because you,” Amelie’s voice lowers to a whisper that even Harry can barely hear, “fucking me in our seats in first-class sounds like so much fun when we could get caught.”

“’s the thrill of it all, baby.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t use the baby card,” she says warningly, her eyes narrowing at the man she loves with her whole heart, trying to convey her seriousness. Her thighs clench around his hand, a near-death grip to break his movements where his fingertips would brush over her heat.

“Need those fingers, Cherry.”

“Don’t stick your hands in my leggings, then.” Harry smirks at Amelie. “That doesn’t mean you find a loophole and stick your hand over my fanny either, thank you.”

“Mean, technically I’m not over your fanny.” Harry laughs so loudly, the entire terminal turns to face him. “Need you to tell me when the hell you started calling it that, though. Taking to all the slang now that you’re half a Brit, huh.”

“Much less aggressive than calling it my,” Amelie whispers, “cunt. Don’t you think?”

“Quite like calling it that,” he shrugs, weaselling his hand further up her thigh, nearly holding her heat in his palm. “’s mine to call anything, you know.”

“Oh,” she snorts, shaking her head and lightly pushing his shoulder and smirking when he grabs her hand with his other hand, kissing her palm with a smirk. “Is that how marriage works? Don’t think that was on the document we signed.”

“Mean, as far as I’m aware. Got like,” Harry hums, pretending to count on his fingers the number of months since they’d gotten married in March, “three months under m’belt. ‘s kinda like how you say you want my cock in your mouth.”

“Harry, quit it. There are people around.”

“Half of them would need a hearing aid to hear me, honey.”

Amelie shakes her head, “Whipping your best terms of endearment isn’t making me any more inclined to have sex on the plane.”

“Hate to break it to you, angel, but you saying, fanny, doesn’t really give me an inclination to stick my hand in your pants, anyways.”

“Good,” she says, wrapping her hand around his wrist and moving it away, interlocking their fingers and grabbing their bags to walk to the desk to board. “Not to mention, it’s barely four in the afternoon.”

“Oh, time is a social construct, baby. Isn’t that what you say when you’re begging for it in the morning before I have get on a flight out somewhere?” Harry whispers in her ear, smiling at the flight attendant and handing his phone for the boarding passes.

Amelie releases Harry’s hand, tugging her sweatshirt sleeves over her fingers and crossing her arms over her chest. “I hate you.”

Harry smirks, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her head, his phone stuck in the front of his The Face sweatshirt that Amelie threw onto the bed for him to wear while he was sleeping. “No, you really don’t.”

“Welcome,” one flight attendant says through their mask, oblivious to the sexual tension spurring in between the freshly married couple and the way her hand was holding his simply to ensure that he wouldn’t squeeze her breast with his hand hanging limply over her shoulder.

Harry steps inside the row first, and Amelie knows why he’s hiding in the seat that would be the least likely to be seen by the flight attendants. Her head shakes with a sigh, heaving a breath and settling into the chair, giving a warning glance to him as his lips toy with a mischievous grin.

“Garder les mains pour soi.”

“Can’t keep m’hands to m’self for eleven hours,” Harry stresses, his cheek laying on her shoulder as he stares at her through hooded eyelids, the separator pushed away to allow him to cuddle into her, the way her nails are scratching at his scalp making him want her more.

“Harry, yes, you can,” Amelie says, knowing that Harry is trying to wear her down with the dramatic nature of the conversation. Her thighs are warm thinking about the adrenaline that would course through her veins by having sex where they very well shouldn’t be, but with the environment being heavily closed away from interaction, maybe this was just the right time to do so.

Amelie wouldn’t admit that to Harry, though. No. Because that means he won.

“Haven’t touched you in like, three days.”

“Because we had to get all of our things together, see our godchildren, and see my family. Not because I didn’t want to.”

“Alright, well, now we have eleven hours.”

Amelie sighs, carding her fingers through her hair and gently pulling out the tie in her curls and letting the baby pink fall over her shoulders. Through her peripheral vision, she can see Harry roll his eyes, trying to look away as she tugs on the sleeves on the sweatshirt, gently pulling the material away and leaving his eyes to bask over the loose-fitting shirt from his closet and her chest free from any restrictions.

“For fuck’s sake, Amelie,” Harry groans, sitting up and beginning to pull his mask away from his mouth, all the passengers boarded and the flight attendants beginning to go through the safety measures as he’s heard a million times before. “Did you not wear a bra, either?”

“Like you said, eleven hours,” she shrugs, a smirk playing at her lips as she set the sweatshirt over her thighs, dragging the blanket over her body, locking his hand between her legs.

“Know just how to get what you want, huh?”

“Maybe,” she hums, spreading her thighs the slightly amount to give him the ability to roam further across her skin. “Have had quite a few years of practice.”

Harry smirks, taking Amelie by surprise and sliding his hand beneath the waistband of her leggings, her thighs unable to be held together as his fingers drag slowly and teasingly across her mound. “About, five years, huh, baby?” Amelie gulps. “Don’t go quiet on me, now. Have had the wittiest comebacks for an hour and now you’re quiet?”

“Harry,” she says through a clenched jaw, trying her swallow back a moan as his fingers delicately trace along her core, arousal collecting on his fingertips as his finger draws over her clit lightly, barely touching her skin. “Either you do it or you don’t.”

“Do you want me to?” Harry smirks, lips ghosting across the shell of her ear and making her sink further into her seat, her thumb between her teeth as she nods shamelessly. “Amelie Fay, tell me what you want or I’m going to take my hand back.”

Harry rarely uses Amelie’s whole name. And by rarely, Amelie means that Harry only uses her whole name – first and middle – when they’re arguing and she won’t listen (which is most of the time) or they’re about to do something filthy and she won’t give verbal consent (which is most of the time they’re taking to exhibitionism). But whenever Harry uses it, fuck, it’s another type of sexy. His accent draws out every syllable, especially when he’s trying to use an accent that her mother has or it’s deeply his own.

Amelie sucks in a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing and not melt into the chair with the barely-there movements of his fingertips, his middle finger teasing her warmth by dipping in to collect more arousal over her clit. “Okay, okay.”

“Okay, what.”

“Need you to use your fingers,” she sighs, his fingers beginning to ease into her warmth and brush against the velvet that squeezes him in. “Fuck.”

“Be quiet,” Harry says strictly, his cheek laying on her shoulder and his lips touching the cut of her jaw. “Have barely touched you and you’re already squeezing me, doll. Maybe I should’ve tried a bit harder to get you into bed, hm? Have I been neglecting you? Horrible husband, you have.”

Harry and Amelie never could describe their sex life as neglected – certainly not that – but it definitely was not what it was when they first got married at the beginning of March. Harry and Amelie tiptoed around the subject because there were days when there was too much frustration to even think about getting naked and sharing their thoughts with the other person. That definitely isn’t what want they wanted, what they promised each other. And so, here they were, three months into the isolation and just being able to go home, and there was a desperation lingering between them that neither really knew was there. Getting comfortable was something they didn’t want, and that’s exactly what they did.

His fingers work at a speed that could only be described as desperate and longing. His thumb pressed against her clit with patterns that have her hips longing to writhe beneath him, his middle and third finger curling inside of her with every thrust, taking a second to ghost across the spot that would have her screaming inside their bedroom.

“Baby, please,” Amelie whimpers, tucking her face into his hair and breathing out through parted lips, squeezing her eyes shut as the flight attendant walks through the aisle, completely unsuspecting of what is happening beneath the linen. “Harry.”

“All over me, honey. Gi’ me all of it.”

Amelie tugs on Harry’s curls, earning a smirk and a grateful kiss, swallowing her moans as the orgasm ripples through her body. Her hands shaking as she grasps onto the blanket and her hot breaths hitting his neck. His hand is coated with her orgasm, his mouth watering at the thought of her taste on his tongue.

If Harry couldn’t go down on her, right now, this is the next best option.

“Get out the fruit and water from your bag.”

“Huh?” Amelie whispers, her eyes barely opening to try and read Harry’s expression. “For what?”

“For you to drink,” Harry smiles, kissing her hairline sweetly. “And so, I can stick my fingers in m’mouth and it won’t look like I just fucked you under the blanket.”

“Christ, Harry,” she mutters, rolling her eyes as he chuckles under his breath. “Do you realise you still have your fingers in me?”

“And?”

“Can’t lean over and grab everything with you puncturing my cervix.”

“Don’t flatter me that much, baby,” Harry quips, nodding towards the bag laying at her feet and gently tapping his thumb against her clit once more. “Already have a big head.”

“Hate you,” Amelie swallows, trying to control her breathing as she leans forward and reaches for her bag, Harry’s fingers wiggling inside her warmth. He is just as needy as she is, at the moment, except, Amelie would rather wait until they are home and can’t be caught. “Here.”

“But, baby, I know you don’t.” He chastely kisses her cheek, gently taking his fingers from her warmth and slowly removing his hand from her pants, pouting his lips, “My hand is cold, now.”

“Unfortunate,” she shrugs, taking a long sip from her water as his tongue licks along his palm, his two fingers suckled between his lips and tasting all that he’s missed in nearly four days. He isn’t used to going that long. Maybe, he’s a bit spoiled in that regard. Harry and Amelie are running on the same sex drive at all times. Call it inspirational in some respects. Amelie has found it quite useful in the exhibitions recently. Harry finds that flattering.

“Quit being a brat,” Harry teases, squeezing her knee over the blanket and standing on his feet, nodding towards the bathroom a few feet away. “Have to wash my hands. Got a bit messy.”

Amelie shakes her head, wiggling around in her seat and shrugging her sweatshirt over her torso, settling under the blanket and laying over the chair, waiting for Harry to get back and cuddle into. Harry smiles at the sight, wiping his hands over his sweatpants and manoeuvring around her legs and settling into his seat. His arms open wide, graciously accepting Amelie as she climbs over into his seat and lays in the reclined bed with him, tucking her face into his neck. “Hi.”

“Hi, Cherry.”

“Can’t wait to go home,” she whispers, yawning as his fingertips drag through her hair. “Miss home.”

“Know you do,” he says, kissing her temple and bringing the blanket tighter over her body. “Me too.”

“Need a really good night of sex, too. Or day. I’m not picky.”

Harry snorts, “Have our other nights not been satisfactory to you?”

“Always the best with you. Don’t worry,” Amelie smirks, kissing his jaw and breathing in his cologne. “Different when we’re home, though. Don’t care about anything or anyone. Can just do it wherever, whenever. Don’t have to worry about my parents or sister, or our friends coming and knocking on our door.”

“Love your sister,” Harry says, his voice hanging on the last word, “but she is the biggest cock block in the entire world.”

Amelie laughs so loudly into Harry’s chest that the flight attendant peers over his novel. “God, you’re right.”

“Need to just be alone with m’missus for a while.”

Her voice is quiet, once again, barely above a whisper as she begins to fall asleep nuzzled into his warmth. “Alright.”

His eyebrows furrow together in confusion. “No argument? No rebuttal?”

“Not today.”

Harry laughs breathily, shaking his head and kissing her hair, his hands dragging along her spine as she drifts asleep. He stays awake until nearly eleven, waking her to eat and watching a film on his phone until they’ve fallen back asleep together, only waking to the sound telling them to buckle their seatbelts and settle into landing. Harry can see the relief on Amelie’s face, the smile that sits permanently on her lips as the pilot welcomes them to England and Heathrow Airport.

Amelie nearly forgets their luggage when Harry pulls into the garage, rushing inside to see Tigger and breathe in the scent that is permanently a mark of their London home. He tugs in their bags, setting the mickey mouse printed luggage in the foyer and wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her neck sweetly and nosing her hair away from her skin.

“Fuck, ’m happy to be home.”

“Know you are,” Harry smiles, gently biting her neck and licking over the red mark lingering on her skin. His hands squeeze her thighs, lifting her onto his hips and wrapping his arms under her ass, his eyes rolling as their cat begins to rub along his legs. “Not the time, Tigger.”

“He missed you.”

“Flattered, but not really the time. Quite missed shagging m’wife, so that’s the priority at the minute.”

“That sounds really sexy coming from your mouth,” Amelie hums, dragging her thumb over his plump lips.

“Hm?” Harry asks, carefully making his way up the stairs and shoving their bedroom door open, careful to make sure that their cat would not be in the way when the door closed behind him. He became way too good at carrying her up the stairs when they moved in two years ago.

“My wife.”

Harry snickers, walking straight into the bathroom and turning on the light with his elbow, setting Amelie on the counter and harshly pressing his lips to hers. “’s what you are, m’wife.”

“Can’t wait to have this on me,” Amelie smirks against his cheeks, her fingertips dragging along his beard as Harry tugs their sweatshirts and shirt off their bodies. “First place you’re going to have sex with me in our house is the shower.”

“Know you better than that to think you’ll let me on the clean sheets after we were just on a plane for twelve hours.”

Amelie giggles, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tugging him into her, his arms circling her waist and his tongue tasting her lips, her tongue, her. “Know me well.”

“Hope so after five bloody years.”

“Go turn the water on.”

Harry nods eagerly, walking away and turning the water in the shower, the waterfall faucet sprinkling water over him as he tugs on his sweatpants tie. His head rolls back as two hands skirt along his naked torso, dancing dangerously close to where he wants them most, his cock already painfully hard between his thighs.

“Don’t tease me, now.”

“Am I not allowed to have a taste, either? ‘s been four days, remember?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry moans, squeezing his eyes shut as Amelie’s hands bring his sweatpants over his ass and thighs, her gently hand tugging teasingly over his shaft. “Get in the bloody shower, woman.”

Amelie laughs, taking Harry’s hand and stepping inside the shower, the steam already beginning to fog over the glass doors. His back hits the tile wall, a gasp leaving his lips as she sinks to the ground, her knees printed with the tile, her tongue dragging over the arousal wetting his tip. He moans, the sound spurring her on, his hand running through her hair as she wraps her fingers around his base and begins sucking on his cock, all of him surrounded by her tongue and her wet lips and her warmth.

His stomach tightens, nearly spilling his entire orgasm down her throat. His whimpers as she pulls away makes her laugh, his eyes barely open before he’s helping her stand and grabbing her thigh to wrap around his waist, his cock sliding deep inside her warmth without warning. Her forehead falls to his collarbone, the sensation overwhelming and deeply missed. Her nails dig into his shoulders, their kisses messy and sloppy as his thrust reaches every inch into her core, his thumb drawing shapes around her clit the way he knows she loves.

“Missed this so much,” Amelie moans, her fingers tugging at his curls and bringing his mouth to hers. “Can’t go that long again.”

“Fucking swear on m’life,” Harry grunts, the way his cock is driving into her making her lift onto her toes. “Gi’ me your leg.”

“Do you want to fall over?”

“Trust me.”

Amelie wraps her legs around Harry’s waist, sighing when her back hits the cold tile that is out of the water’s reach, a gasp leaving her lips as his shaft sits deeper inside her warmth.

Harry is grunting mercilessly into her neck, Amelie’s moans echoing inside the bathroom, and to anyone that doesn’t know them, they might have thought that they’d not seen each other for a month, maybe two, with how intense their orgasms spill onto each other. Her thighs shake around his waist, their orgasms dripping out of her and onto his legs as he holds her, making sure that she wouldn’t fall.

And their shower isn’t devoid of more touching and kissing, in fact, the water goes cold before they’re fully finished washing up and rinsing the shampoo and conditioner from their hair.

Harry watches Amelie change intensely, soaking in the way she’s never changed the way she looks in their time together – except for the new three tattoos – the way she’s never felt the need to. Harry adores every curve and tattoo and mark and dimple, especially when she’s naked and he’s touching her skin.

“Can you look away for maybe two seconds?”

“No,” Harry deadpans, laying his hands behind him on the bed, the towel still loosely covering his waist.

“Are you going to eat lunch with me?” Amelie wonders, tugging one of Harry’s old shirts on and sliding briefs onto her hips – he never wears them anyways.

“Think I need to go for a run, and then I’ll shower and come back and eat.”

“You want to go for a run? After a twelve-hour flight?”

“Need to otherwise you and me will be in that bed for the next twelve hours,” Harry says surely, taking a deep breath and nodding his already semi-hard cock between his thighs.

“For fuck’s sake,” Amelie breathes, shaking her head and walking to him on the bed. Her lips press against his chastely, once, then twice, smiling when he tugs her onto his chest, and they fall against the mattress.

“Love you.”

“Love you more. Go for your run. Think I can take, like, six hours in bed, with breaks, alright? I’m not a machine.”

“Ooh, a compromise.”

“Married men get three compromises a year, this is one.”

“Deal.”

[fictionadventurer]

Father Brown Reread: The Absence of Mr. Glass

The consulting-rooms of Dr Orion Hood, the eminent criminologist and specialist in certain moral disorders, lay along the sea-front at Scarborough, in a series of very large and well-lighted french windows, which showed the North Sea like one endless outer wall of blue-green marble.

I like how the first and second collections both start with a story focusing on a professional detective who’s not Father Brown.

True to form, we’ve got a color word in the first sentence. And not only that--a hypenated color word! You don’t get much more Chesterton than that.

Everything about him and his room indicated something at once rigid and restless, like that great northern sea by which (on pure principles of hygiene) he had built his home. Fate, being in a funny mood, pushed the door open and introduced into those long, strict, sea-flanked apartments one who was perhaps the most startling opposite of them and their master.

Highlighting this because “Fate, being in a funny mood” is a great phrase.

But also because I love when the stories contrast Father Brown’s clumsy, homely shabbiness with characters who look more distinguished and accomplished.

"My name is Brown. Pray excuse me. I've come about that business of the MacNabs. I have heard, you often help people out of such troubles. Pray excuse me if I am wrong."

It’s odd that Father Brown is consulting another detective on this. He doesn’t seem the sort to seek out other help. He usually just winds up on the scene of the crime by accident.

It seems like he should have the confidence to solve the mystery himself.

It seems like the more natural way to bring Hood into the story would be to have the girl approach Dr. Hood and Father Brown just to be at the house for priest reasons before figuring out the mystery.

But maybe Father Brown’s stumped from lack of evidence and doesn’t have the time for an investigation. (Actually paying attention to his priestly duties for once?)

After all, it’s only luck that the crisis that gives them an excuse to investigate the apartment happens two minutes later.

And of course, the whole point of the story is getting this Holmes detective to the same crime scene as Father Brown to contrast their methods, so it doesn’t much matter how he gets there.

And there is a lot of fun in seeing shabby little Father Brown in this professional detective’s immaculate study.

"Oh, this is of the greatest importance," broke in the little man called Brown. "Why, her mother won't let them get engaged." And he leaned back in his chair in radiant rationality.

It’s not a full-fledged Father Brown story unless the mystery is centered on a romance, is it?

A stock Chesterton exchange: foolish-looking character says simple, silly-sounding statement as if it’s the most sensible thing in the world, before being forced to elaborate by a confused listener.

This story gives us Father Brown at his most silly-seeming. Here he’s not just unassuming and sheltered; he seems like one of Chesterton’s holy fools. He hasn’t looked this simple-minded since “The Blue Cross”

"Mr Brown," he said gravely, "it is quite fourteen and a half years since I was personally asked to test a personal problem: then it was the case of an attempt to poison the French President at a Lord Mayor's Banquet.  It is now, I understand, a question of whether some friend of yours called Maggie is a suitable fiancee for some friend of hers called Todhunter.  Well, Mr Brown, I am a sportsman. I will take it on.  I will give the MacNab family my best advice, as good as I gave the French Republic and the King of England--no, better: fourteen years better.  I have nothing else to do this afternoon. Tell me your story."

Sure, he’s a condescending ass, but I can’t help liking this guy. He’s got a good heart and a good sense of humor.

I kind of wish he’d have showed up in at least one or two other stories (preferably with a better end than Valentine).

The little clergyman called Brown thanked him with unquestionable warmth, but still with a queer kind of simplicity. It was rather as if he were thanking a stranger in a smoking-room for some trouble in passing the matches, than as if he were (as he was) practically thanking the Curator of Kew Gardens for coming with him into a field to find a four-leaved clover.

I like this metaphor very much.

Brown is still very, very much the simple little curate of “The Blue Cross”. But with the bumpkin traits turned up to eleven.

I’m very curious about Dr. Hood’s past cases, and how he achieved such renown.

"I told you my name was Brown; well, that's the fact, and I'm the priest of the little Catholic Church I dare say you've seen beyond those straggly streets, where the town ends towards the north.

Yet another parish! How many is this? This seems like the most distant, rural parish that Father Brown has yet had.

And Father Brown’s actually doing some work at it!

He seems to have quite a pocketful of money, but nobody knows what his trade is.  Mrs MacNab, therefore (being of a pessimistic turn), is quite sure it is something dreadful, and probably connected with dynamite. The dynamite must be of a shy and noiseless sort, for the poor fellow only shuts himself up for several hours of the day and studies something behind a locked door.  He declares his privacy is temporary and justified, and promises to explain before the wedding.  

Doesn’t the landlady have a key to the door of her own lodger? Can’t she just demand to look?

British people, I tell you.

Unless the daughter is preventing her from looking, out of respect for her beloved.

And, you know, he does promise to explain, so it’d be rude to just barge in.

So why bother consulting the great detective in the first place? If Todhunter’s really on the up-and-up, he’ll explain eventually, they’ll get engaged, and all will be well.

he is tirelessly kind with the younger children, and can keep them amused for a day on end

Given Todhunter’s chosen profession, this makes perfect sense.

You see, therefore, how this sealed door of Todhunter's is treated as the gate of all the fancies and monstrosities of the 'Thousand and One Nights'.

Another Father Brown mystery built upon a fairy tale atmosphere.

To the scientific eye all human history is a series of collective movements, destructions or migrations, like the massacre of flies in winter or the return of birds in spring. Now the root fact in all history is Race. Race produces religion; Race produces legal and ethical wars. There is no stronger case than that of the wild, unworldly and perishing stock which we commonly call the Celts, of whom your friends the MacNabs are specimens. Small, swarthy, and of this dreamy and drifting blood, they accept easily the superstitious explanation of any incidents, just as they still accept (you will excuse me for saying) that superstitious explanation of all incidents which you and your Church represent.

A lot of the most racist characters in Chesterton are the most educated, scientific and progressive.

Granted, Chesterton does a lot of stereotyping along national lines himself. But usually it’s not with the idea that these differences are bad things. And certainly not with the idea that race is the cause of all war.

the door opened on a young girl, decently dressed but disordered and red-hot with haste. She had sea-blown blonde hair,

Is this the first blonde female love interest in these stories?

They were quarrelling—about money, I think—for I heard James say again and again, 'That's right, Mr Glass,' or 'No, Mr Glass,' and then, 'Two or three, Mr Glass.'

Given the eventual explanation of what’s really happening here, wouldn’t she have heard some other noises (possibly crashing noises?) alongside this?

"I do not think this young lady is so Celtic as I had supposed. As I have nothing else to do, I will put on my hat and stroll down town with you."

Wow, you were really just going to disbelieve her because of her nationality, weren’t you?

Playing-cards lay littered across the table or fluttered about the floor as if a game had been interrupted. Two wine glasses stood ready for wine on a side-table, but a third lay smashed in a star of crystal upon the carpet. A few feet from it lay what looked like a long knife or short sword, straight, but with an ornamental and pictured handle, its dull blade just caught a grey glint from the dreary window behind, which showed the black trees against the leaden level of the sea. Towards the opposite corner of the room was rolled a gentleman's silk top hat, as if it had just been knocked off his head; so much so, indeed, that one almost looked to see it still rolling. And in the corner behind it, thrown like a sack of potatoes, but corded like a railway trunk, lay Mr James Todhunter, with a scarf across his mouth, and six or seven ropes knotted round his elbows and ankles. His brown eyes were alive and shifted alertly.

The clues are laid out very nicely here.

This is one of the most Romantic (in the literary sense of the term) crime scenes in all of fiction. Every clue is as picturesque as possible.

"How to explain the absence of Mr Glass and the presence of Mr Glass's hat? For Mr Glass is not a careless man with his clothes. That hat is of a stylish shape and systematically brushed and burnished, though not very new. An old dandy, I should think." "But, good heavens!" called out Miss MacNab, "aren't you going to untie the man first?"

This entire segment is so funny. I laugh every time one of his long-winded deductions is interrupted by the common-sense demand to untie the man.

Now, surely it is obvious that there are the three chief marks of the kind of man who is blackmailed. And surely it is equally obvious that the faded finery, the profligate habits, and the shrill irritation of Mr Glass are the unmistakable marks of the kind of man who blackmails him. We have the two typical figures of a tragedy of hush money:

So much of the Holmesian deduction process relies on stereotypes, doesn’t it? Sure, Holmes doesn’t label people in “types” quite this way, but it relies on using the evidence to reach the most stereotypical conclusion without factoring in the random possibilities of life. (The suspect might have ink on his hands, but it doesn’t mean he’s a clerk). It’s fun that this story calls out that conceit.

"No; I think these ropes will do very well till your friends the police bring the handcuffs."

Okay, so there’s a sensible explanation for why Hood ignores their cries to untie Todhunter. But it doesn’t make the previous exchanges any less funny to read.

"But the ropes?" inquired the priest, whose eyes had remained open with a rather vacant admiration.

It’s interesting that Father Brown’s actually buying into this. My memory had him being more skeptical of the deductions, but he’s admiring the chain of logic being built here.

It’s kind of a nice change from the usual Chesterton tack of the mouthpiece character disdaining every scientific explanation.

It was not the blank curiosity of his first innocence. It was rather that creative curiosity which comes when a man has the beginnings of an idea. "Say it again, please," he said in a simple, bothered manner; "do you mean that Todhunter can tie himself up all alone and untie himself all alone?" "That is what I mean," said the doctor. "Jerusalem!" ejaculated Brown suddenly, "I wonder if it could possibly be that!"

And we’re off! I always love the moment when Father Brown puts everything together, and it’s especially satisfying here, after he’s spent the whole story sitting back and letting another man do all the detective work.

"His eyes do look queer," cried the young woman, strongly moved. "You brutes; I believe it's hurting him!" "Not that, I think," said Dr Hood; "the eyes have certainly a singular expression. But I should interpret those transverse wrinkles as expressing rather such slight psychological abnormality—" "Oh, bosh!" cried Father Brown: "can't you see he's laughing?"

Each sentence gives a vivid picture of the three different personalities here. The tender-hearted young woman. The too-practical man of science. And the brash common sense of Father Brown.

He shuffled about the room, looking at one object after another with what seemed to be a vacant stare, and then invariably bursting into an equally vacant laugh, a highly irritating process for those who had to watch it.

Irritating to watch, I’m sure, but very amusing to imagine.

"But a hatter," protested Hood, "can get money out of his stock of new hats. What could Todhunter get out of this one old hat?" "Rabbits," replied Father Brown promptly.

I love the hat conversation and these lines in particular.

He was also practising the trick of a release from ropes, like the Davenport Brothers

According to Wikipedia, the Davenport Brothers were an American magician act that toured England in the 1860s. They built on the Spiritualism craze and claimed all their tricks were done by spirit power. There isn’t much about what their tricks wer, (besides a couple of escape tricks and spirit cabinet things). Most of the Wikipedia article is about the many times their tricks were debunked. (Naturally, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle refused to believe they were frauds).

But the mere fact of an idler in a top hat having once looked in at his back window, and been driven away by him with great indignation, was enough to set us all on a wrong track of romance, and make us imagine his whole life overshadowed by the silk-hatted spectre of Mr Glass."

This isn’t so much a debunking of the Holmesian deduction methods as a case study proving why logical deductions have to be built upon sound premises. One mistake at the beginning can send you in a completely false direction.

"You are certainly a very ingenious person," he said; "it could not have been done better in a book.

I love when the characters get meta.

This is a very snide remark in context, but of course Father Brown proves himself.

Mr Brown broke into a rather childish giggle. "Well, that," he said, "that's the silliest part of the whole silly story. When our juggling friend here threw up the three glasses in turn, he counted them aloud as he caught them, and also commented aloud when he failed to catch them. What he really said was: 'One, two and three—missed a glass one, two—missed a glass.' And so on."

I can’t explain how deeply I love that the entire mystery is built on a pun. This one section is the reason this is one of my favorite Father Brown stories.

This drives home the idea that mysteries and jokes are the same types of story. They both require laying out information that’s put together into a surprising conclusion.

There was a second of stillness in the room, and then everyone with one accord burst out laughing.  As they did so the figure in the corner complacently uncoiled all the ropes and let them fall with a flourish.  Then, advancing into the middle of the room with a bow, he produced from his pocket a big bill printed in blue and red, which announced that ZALADIN, the World's Greatest Conjurer, Contortionist, Ventriloquist and Human Kangaroo would be ready with an entirely new series of Tricks at the Empire Pavilion, Scarborough, on Monday next at eight o'clock precisely.

I grew up on cheesy sitcoms. I’m a sucker for the “everyone laughs” ending.

If Todhunter’s willing to admit the truth here, he could have saved himself a lot of trouble by just admitting the truth right away. (I don’t buy the “he keeps it secret to keep his tricks secret” explanation. You can tell people you’d a magician without giving away everything about your act).

Does Mrs. MacNab let them get married? Now she knows he has a harmless vocation, but it’s not exactly a stable one. Would she let her daughter marry a guy so flighty that he can’t even settle on a coherent focus for his own stage show?

Given that the story ends here, we’re supposed to assume that she does. I guess he must be a successful performer--part of her mistrust came from the fact that he had too much money. So he and Maggie should have a comfortable life together.

I’m glad. He seems like a nice young man.

[sckyie]

word count: 1.1k

genre + warnings: fluff; mentions of marriage, kids, driving

pronouns used: they/them (implied)

a/n: apologies for the delay! i got caught up with my niece and babysitting her

"You got everything, love?" You ask, shutting the trunk of Daichi's car. The two of you rented an AirBnb down in Ogaki as a mini getaway. It was the first time in a while that you both had time for one another.

"Mhm, let's get going," Daichi smiled, pecking your lips. He was more than excited to take some time off of work for you. It was a few months before your wedding, so he thought it'd let off some stress of planning.

Daichi walks over to your door, opening it for you like always. You smile, kissing his cheek before entering the car. He always loved escorting you into and out of the car. He'd never let you open your door, no matter how full his hands are.

You settle yourself as your fiancé enters the car. He starts up the car, adjusting his seatbelt. You plug your phone into the aux. You tap on shuffle, playing some nostalgic music from your relationship.

Once the two of you got onto a steady ride on the road, you lean on his shoulder while his hand rests intertwined with yours. He hums to the music playing in the car as you looked up to admire him. "Enjoying the view?" He chuckles.

"I love you," You giggled. "You're so handsome."

"Oh hush," He laughs. "What's on your mind besides staring at me like I'm food?"

"Nothing I'm just excited for this trip. What's on yours?" You say as you turn down the volume of the music.

"Just about how bad I want to marry you," He gleamed. He was over the moon the day you said yes. The two of you were sobbing messes but it was your most memorable moment. "That, and how much I want to grow old with you and start a family and do everything with you."

"Aww did Suga's kid give you baby fever?" You teased.

"Shut up," He smiled, giving you a firm squeeze on your hand. "Arita is adorable and if you didn't get baby fever, you're lying."

"Fine I will admit, I did consider wanting to have kids a bit too early," You confessed. "You really want to start a family with me?"

"Of course, mini me's and mini Y/n's running around would be amazing!" He cheered. You giggled at his expression, pecking his cheek.

"After the wedding okay? We can have as many kids as you want bubba," You say. The traffic slows down, giving Daichi the opportunity to kiss you. He places a soft kiss on your lips before looking back at the road. "Which leads me to ask, how many do you want?"

"However many you're comfortable giving," He says, rubbing his thumb against the back side if your hand.

The two of you continued your conversation on babies and the future. It was sweet thinking of what you two could have later in life. As the conversation died down, the two of you began to sing your hearts out to the music playing.

You didn't care that it was nearly three in the morning, to you it felt like time stopped when you were with Daichi. He began to harmonize with you as your favorite song played. It was a fuzzy feeling you had in your chest.

"It's still early, you should sleep baby," Daichi suggests as the music dies down.

"Okay," You started to yawn.

"Rest up baby," He says, glances at you. You nod, leaning into his shoulder. "We still have six hours left."

You slowly drift into a slumber as the traffic moves at a calming pace. He smiles as you started to snore softly. You shift off of him, leaning into the chair, slightly shivering from the air conditioning.

At a stop light, he reaches behind the chair to grab a blanket. Daichi shiftly opens the blanket and drapes it over your sleeping body. He grinned at you, knowing well enough you were his. He takes your hand, kissing your knuckles before putting his hands back on the wheel.

As he drove, he couldn't help but fall in love with you all over again. You were his world, his greatest gift, and well, the love of his life. Being on the road gave him time to reminisce about the relationship you've built together. Thoughts of spending the rest of his life with you filled his head.

How did he get so lucky to be blessed with you? Daichi thought about how greatly you changed his life. The two of you had met while he was in the police force academy and you worked in the office across. Originally, you were dating someone else but after that ended, Daichi made a move.

You fell for his determination, his laugh, and overall his personality. He knew how to make you smile on your dark days and spoil you on your best days. There was nothing more you could've asked for in a man.

He looked over at you, still holding your hand as you slept. Daichi always found it comforting to hold your hand as he drove. Nothing more could he have brought him more peace than being with you. It was a simple gesture but it meant so much to him. To Daichi, holding your hand made him feel safe and that nothing bad could get to him.

With four more hours to go, you woke up to see the sun rising. "Good morning sleepy head," Daichi says. You stretch, letting the blanket fall to your lap. "It's six in the morning now."

"Do you want me to drive? So you can catch up on your sleep?" You ask. He nods, pulling the car over for you two to switch sides. After you do so, Daichi rests his hand on your thigh as you were more conscious about holding the wheel while you drove. He slowly drifts off to sleep as you hum the tune to your guys' song.

After getting lost in your thoughts, you two arrive at your AirBnb just before eleven. You wake your sleepy fiancé by littering his face with small kisses. Daichi stirred from his slumber, lifting his hand to cup your face. "We're here," You smiled. He nods, placing his lips on yours.

You both checked in with the owner, getting a tour and asking questions. Daichi was settling both his and your things while you order delivery for breakfast. You walked into the bedroom walking over to him sitting on the bed. You stood in between his legs, smiling down at him. Your arms rested on his shoulder while his wrapped around your waist.

"I love you, so much," He grinned. "I can't imagine a world without you."

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana

[storiesforallfandoms]

the wedding ~ machine gun kelly

part one   part two   part three   part four   part five   part six   part seven   part eight   part nine   part ten   part eleven   part twelve   part thirteen

word count: 2387

request?: no

description: a year later, you and colson are finally getting your fairytale ending at the end of the aisle

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, lots of fluff

masterlist

series masterlist

*read the author’s note at the end!*

One Year Later

You winced as your sister accidentally yanked your hair again. “At this rate, you’re gonna have my hair yanked out before I get to the end of the aisle.”

“I’m sorry I’m trying to make sure it’s perfect,” Hailie responded.

“Here,” your mom said, replacing Hailie’s spot behind you. “A mother is more gentle.”

“The amounts of times I went to school with a sore head begs to differ,” Hailie teased.

But your mom was definitely right, she was much more gentle than Hailie. Before you knew it, your hair was finished and you were ready to get married.

You stood to look at yourself in the full length mirror. Your wedding dress was absolutely gorgeous, and Hailie had also done your makeup, with waterproof makeup luckily enough because you already felt like you were going to cry.

Your mom put her hands on your shoulder and smiled at you through the mirror. “My baby is growing up. Feels like just yesterday I was watching you walk for the first time.”

You put your hands over hers. “Please don’t cry, mom, I don’t want to start crying yet.”

“I know, I’m sorry honey. It’s just a very emotional da.”

You turned to face your mom, putting one arm around her and extending the other to Hailie. She stepped into your group hug and the three of you hugged each other.

“I’m so proud of you both,” your mom said, kissing your and Hailie’s foreheads.

A knock came at the door and as the three of you pulled apart, the door opened revealing your father in his suit. He looked you over and you could see the slight sadness and emotion in his eyes. “It’s time.”

Hailie hugged you once more before going to take her place as the Maid of Honor. As your mom went to leave, she paused next to your dad to look back at you. “We did good at raising some amazing daughters.”

Your dad smiled and gave your mom a hug before she went to take her seat. You were left with your dad. Neither of you really knew what to say. You were still trying to keep your tears at bay.

“I’m proud of you,” your dad finally said. “Even if I don’t like your husband to be.”

“You wouldn’t like him no matter who he was,” you teased. “But thank you dad.”

He extended an arm to you. “Let’s go before either of us start crying.”

You chuckled and took his arm. He led you down the stairs and to the end of the line of bridesmaids and groom’s men.

You and Colson had rented a sort of country club building, setting up the outside for the wedding ceremony and the inside for the reception. Your sisters were your bridesmaids, with Hailie being the Maid of Honor, and two of Colson’s crew, Rook and Slim, as his groom’s men and Pete as his Best Man. Casie was your flower girl and your youngest cousin, the son of your Uncle Nate, was your ringbearer.

You anxiously waited and felt your heart leap to your throat when the music began to play. One by one, the bridesmaids and groom’s men walked down the aisle, followed by Casie and your cousin. When it was finally your turn, you took a deep breath to try and calm your nerves.

“Don’t worry,” your dad assured you. “When you start walking down that aisle, the only person you’ll see is Colson.”

He was right. At first, as you started down the aisle, you were very aware of all the eyes on your, until you locked eyes with Colson, then it was as if everyone else disappeared.

He looked so handsome in his tux, and he was smiling through the tears of happiness on his face. Finally, the tears started to fall down your own face, and you were definitely grateful for the waterproof makeup.

Before passing you to Colson, your dad gave you another hug and a kiss on your forehead. You smiled at him before turning to Colson.

“You look beautiful,” Colson breathed.

“And you look handsome,” you responded.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the priest started, “we are gathered here today to celebrate the love between Colson Baker and (Y/N) Mathers. Before we get to their vows, is there anyone here who objects to this holy matrimony?”

There’s at least one person here who could, you thought to yourself, eyeing your dad briefly. But you knew that, even if your dad still wasn’t a fan of Colson, he saw how happy you were with him, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that.

“Now, you two have written your own vows, correct?”

You both nodded and looked at each other expectantly, causing yourselves and the audience to chuckle. Colson gestured to you, allowing you to go first.

“I, (Y/N) Mathers, promise to be your biggest fan. I promise to be by your side through the long nights of writing and recording, to always be waiting for you to come home after a long tour, to hype you up at all hours of the day. I promise to always love and to always be there for you, until the end of time.”

Colson squeezed your hands, more tears starting to fall down his face. “And I, Colson Baker, promise to be the best husband I can be. I promise to treat you like the queen that you are, to constantly call you while I’m away to the point where you’ll probably just turn off your phone to get rid of me - ” You giggled at this. “ - to make you feel like the most special girl to ever live, because to me, you are.”

You fought the urge to wipe the tears from your face, knowing you’d smudge your makeup if you did. Through tears, you managed to choke out, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Colson responded.

“May we have the rings?” the priest asked.

Your Uncle Nate nudged your cousin, who approached with the rings. Colson took yours first and positioned it in front of your finger.

“Do you, Colson Baker, take (Y/N) Mathers to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

Colson slid the ring onto your finger. You smiled at him as you took his ring and held it in front of his finger.

“And do you, (Y/N) Mathers, take Colson Baker to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?”

“I do.”

You slid the ring onto Colson’s finger. You held hands again and turned back to the priest.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Colson wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you and kissing you deeply as your guests applauded and cheered.

And just like that, you became Mrs. Baker.

~~~~~~

After a few pictures, the dinner and cake, and some embarrassing stories from both your family and Colson’s, it was time for the dances. Colson went first, dancing with an old family friend that basically raised him like a mother. While planning the wedding, both of you debated on even sending an invite to Colson’s mom. You knew he didn’t have a great relationship with her and had barley talked to her in years, so you decided it would be best if she didn’t attend. At first, you wanted to skip over the father-daughter/mother-son dances and just have the official first dance, but Colson insisted on keeping to that tradition, if nothing else.

Once their song was over, it was announced that it was yours and your dad’s turn. Your dad led you to the dancefloor and put one hand on your waist, while holding the other. You began to sway back and forth to the music together.

“I can’t believe my baby is married,” he sighed. “And of all people, you really had to choose fucking Machine Gun Kelly.”

You chuckled. “I know, we’ve been over this a million times. I’m sorry I didn’t choose a guy that worships the ground you walk on, although Colson still does, he just likes to act tough.”

“No,” your dad said, shaking his head. “I don’t care about it being him. I mean, he still bothers the fuck out of me, but that’s just because he married my baby girl. I hate Hailie’s boyfriend just as much.” You laughed and shook your head. “You’re happy, (Y/N), and that’s all that matters. I wish I had known how severely unhappy you were all those years, and how my fame affected you.”

“There wasn't anything you could do, dad,” you assured him. “I’m a tough girl, you know that. I was able to handle it on my own, and I always will be able to handle it on my own. In a way, I’m glad most the guys I knew were assholes, staying away from them led me to the right guy after all.”

“Also an asshole.”

“Dad,” you playfully scolded.

Your dad chuckled and pulled you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head against his shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you, (Y/N),” he said. “You’ve grown up into the most amazing young woman I always knew you’d be.”

You smiled through the tears that were starting to form again. Dammit! I just touched up my makeup, I knew that was going to be a mistake.

“I love you, dad,” you said, your voice soft.

“I love you, too, (Y/N).”

You were almost reluctant to pull away when the song ended, but you knew you couldn’t stay attached to your dad forever. Both literally and metaphorically, today was a day about letting go, you letting go of him and vice versa.

Colson stepped up as your dad stepped away, the bright smile on his face. He offered you his hand and asked, “May I have this dance, Mrs. Baker?”

You smiled back and responded, “Of course, Mr. Baker.”

The song you had both chosen for your first dance song began to play. Everyone was stood around, taking pictures and smiling at the two of you as you danced, but in that moment it was as if none of them existed. It was just you and Colson dancing together.

“Did you ever think we’d get here?” Colson asked as you rested your head against his chest. Even in your heels, you were nowhere close to reaching his height.

“At which point?” you asked. “When you sat down with me at the diner, or when we started dating?”

“Either,” he responded.

“To the first one, no. I actually didn’t even think we’d ever talk again, even after getting friendly and you left me your number. Part of me was sure you’d forget all about me.”

“How can I forget the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met?”

You cuddled closer to him. He always knew the right things to say. “To the second one, I don’t really knew. At the time that we started dating, I really didn’t know what to expect. Part of me thought it might just be a brief thing, that maybe the distance or the secrecy of it all would result in us breaking up. Then I thought it would last some time but I wasn’t sure exactly how long. I don’t know, I never thought about getting married ever, it just didn’t seem like an option to me.” You lifted your head to look at him. “What about you?”

“When we first met, I didn’t think we’d end up here exactly, but I did hope we’d be friends for a long time. I really liked you, I thought you were cute and funny and so headstrong. I just wanted to hang out with you, if nothing else. When we started dating, I hoped we’d get to this point. I’m not sure if I expected it to happen, but I always hoped it did.”

“Well, you got your wish.”

You leaned up to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and paused from dancing long enough to cup your face. Even through your closed eyes, you could see the flash from the camera of the photographer you had hired. It was just an old friend of Colson’s who offered to take pictures at the wedding, but you both insisted on paying him for his time, even if he would’ve been invited to go anyways.

“You’ll have to get used to that,” Colson said. “Although, I guess you already are.”

“Not as much as you’d think. My sisters and I always managed to keep on the DL for most our lives,” you shrugged. “But I don’t mind all that much. As long as I get to show off my amazing husband one way or another, I’ll gladly welcome any pictures.”

Colson smiled. “Say that again.”

“Which part?”

“The part about me being your husband.”

You giggled and repeated, “Colson Baker, you’re the best husband a girl could ever ask for.”

“And you, (Y/N) Baker, are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You both kissed once again as the music ended. You stood for some time, just lost in one another, before a more upbeat song started to play and more people joined the dancefloor.

You partied until midnight hit, and when it did you changed from your wedding dress into something more comfortable to make your way to the car that would be taking you to the airport. Colson had booked a special honeymoon for the two of you, but didn’t tell you where it was, only that you’d both be gone for some time. You sat next to him in the car and you both smiled at each other. Colson took hold of your hand and gave it a small squeeze.

The car began to drive as your friends and family waved goodbye to the two of you. Next stop, your happily ever after, with Colson as your loving husband.

The end!

Tags: @littlewhiterose @creatureofthen1ght-v3 @arugula-pigeon @keithseabrook27 @xxkellsvixen19xx @hnbtx @c-dizzle-swizzlex @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @whateverthefucklove @kellysimagines @idkbrooklyn @hannahmarie2016 @ratedrkohardychick91 @rosesinmars @painkillerash @kawennote09 @psychosozial @tapedeck-hearts @trash-bag-bitch @bloodorangemoon @jointhehunt67 @nepturn @theroyalbrownbarbie @jesylovesmusic @ripped-up-jeans-and-glitter @chokemebymyheartstrings @kolsprincess04 @polychr0matic @sataninsatin @harringtonstudios @oopsiedoopsie23 @anon-1121 @itjustkindofhappenedreally @iamlivthehuman​ @rumoured-whispers​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @ghostlyawesome1 @bakerkells​ @hxbbit​ @laceupkells​ @nowhereiswhereibelong​ @moonificantlou @crystalbaby12​ @omgitstreeloo​ @jordangdelacruz​ @limerenze​ @estxxbritt​ @moonixto @colsondaddybakerxx @shadyraiam​ @gemini5991​ @nevercameaready @whyisgmora​ @thelooneytoon​ @bolivianchickennugget​ @write-from-the-heart​ 

Thank you all for your support throughout this series. You really don’t know what it means to me that so many of you were so dedicated to this story and you loved it so much. Honestly, when I started writing it I didn’t think it’d get any traction at all. I’m just as sad as you guys are that it came to an end, but I knew this was the way the story was going to go even when I started writing it.

However, don’t be too sad. Keep your eyes out in the coming weeks for another MGK series ;)