#like I’ve been on long flights where the person next to me snores but I suck it up and don’t complain bc at the end of the day

[lonelystarbuckslover13]

Not to mention that it shouldn’t even be the fat person’s responsibility to buy a second seat just in case someone doesn’t want to sit next to them. Planes are public spaces that anyone can purchase a seat in - when you buy a ticket you do so knowing that you don’t know who you’ll be sat next to. That’s a part of the deal. So if you care so much about the body type of the person beside you then you can purchase a second seat for yourself to ensure you’re own comfort, that’s you’re responsibility. To expect a complete stranger to have the foresight that you won’t want to sit next to them and then expect them to pay extra to accomodate your preference is fucking ridiculous. Why is the onus always on fat people to set themselves back more financially in the name of other people’s comfort? Where is the concern for fat people’s comfort on planes? Ugh fatphobia is just disgusting

“So, I’m on a plane today. Here’s what I did to prepare to fly as a very fat person. (Thread.)” by @yrfatfriend

(…)    

I brought my own seatbelt extender, so I wouldn’t have to ask for one. Sometimes my extender is confiscated by the TSA. Today it wasn’t. I’m not worried about the embarrassment of asking for a seatbelt extender. I know I’m fat. I’m worried that hearing me ask for an extender will prompt others to complain. If they do, it starts a domino effect of trouble for me. Passengers complaining to flight attendants will get me reseated, charged double, or escorted off the plane, stranded without a way home.

Over the last 2 yrs, about 50% of passengers in my row complained about me. So, my body is regularly discussed in my presence w/o my input. Some policies don’t include a refund or rebooking policy. So I could be out $1300 & still stranded. That’s a risk I take every time I fly. And no matter what happens, if someone complains, my body will be discussed loudly, with open revulsion, without regard for who hears it. As a very fat person on a plane, I am treated like luggage–a cumbersome, exasperating inconvenience. Inanimate & unfeeling.

I also checked my bag so I wouldn’t give any other passengers another reason to be irritated with me. I bought a first class tickets bc they’re a bit wider, but mostly because there are partitions between seats. So complaints are less likely.

Although I bought a first class ticket, and despite being ~60 lbs smaller than I used to be, the tray table doesn’t fit around me. Without a tray table, I can’t work for the full six hours. I also won’t be able to eat the first class meal that comes with the ticket. I also won’t request anything so the flight attendant doesn’t have to reach over me, again prompting my seat mate to complain.

So I’ll sit silently, arms crossed, so I don’t encroach on my neighbor’s space.

Today, I was lucky–I boarded & the flight took off without incident. I hope I’m so lucky on my return flight. No one likes flying. It’s not comfortable for anyone. But for some of us, it’s a major physical, financial & emotional risk.

And this isn’t about emotional fragility. I’m vulnerable, but I’m tough. This is about airline policies, and about what happens when others decide to make an issue of my body.

I was complained about for the first time about six years ago. I will never forget it. I was on an oversold flight, moved to a middle seat. The man sitting next to me became increasingly agitated. I said hello, asked how he was. He didn’t respond. He got up several times to talk to a flight attendant, pointing angrily back at me. My stomach sunk as I realized what was happening. When he returned, he gathered his things and said sharply, “this is for your comfort. It’ll be better for both of us.” The FA looked at him blankly and said “no it’s not. Someone else will be sitting here.” He scowled at her, then me, then moved to his new seat–directly in front of me.

I spent the rest of the flight with my arms & legs crossed, humiliated and alone. No one spoke to me or made eye contact. The flight attendant didn’t speak to me, but gave free food and drinks to the others in my row–rewards for tolerating my presence. No one said anything. No one interrupted him or reached out to me. I was invisible.

At the end of the flight, as we filed into the aisle, the man who asked to be reseated spoke to me. “I wouldn’t do that to someone who was pregnant or in a wheelchair,” he said. “I know,” I said. “That’s what makes this so awful.”

I didn’t fly for a year and a half after that. Refused travel for work, didn’t see my family, only traveled where I could drive.

I fly now because I love my family, who live about a thousand miles away. I don’t know what my life would be without my niece & nephew. I fly because I value my job, & I’m good at it. & bc advancing my career means traveling. People bigger than me may not have that option. I fly because my life is my own, and others’ preconceptions of me & my body won’t control it. But they can make it much, much harder.

If you learned something from this thread/think others might, please RT. It would genuinely help if others knew where their complaints lead.

[miel-ji]

Don’t Let Me Go

Genre: fluff, slight angst, sickfic, established relationship

Pairing: Idol!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warning: sickness, symptoms of food poisoning, mention of death (joke)

Summary: You were finally able to see Hyunjin when you joined him on his tour, but he suddenly gets food poisoning to which you want nothing more than for him to feel better.

A/N: Based on this request by anon! Absolutely love when someone sends something in my asks <333 also I’ve never had food poisoning so I hope I represented this accurately enough lol

It had been almost two months since you had last seen Hyunjin in person, and every day he was gone, you felt his absence more and more. You texted and called each other whenever you could, and he would always make sure to FaceTime you at night to end his day with you like usual. Even if he was so tired, he would accidentally fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow. You didn’t mind though, knowing that your boyfriend was working so hard to show stays the best performances, and you couldn’t be more proud of him as you watched him quietly snore into his pillow through your small phone screen.

On a particularly hard day when everything just seemed to remind you of Hyunjin and you had barely been able to speak to each other, the stars finally aligned in your favor. After a few arrangements and a few days spent agonizingly waiting, you were on a flight to Japan to join Hyunjin on his final leg of his tour. Excited thoughts about what a whole week of adventures in a country you’ve never visited before with your boyfriend would entail danced in your mind. When you first agreed to follow Hyunjin to Tokyo, he promised to show you all of his favorite spots and sights.

First thing was first though, which was catching up with your boyfriend, so you both skipped out on your first day in Japan, and you got very familiar with the inside of your hotel room. However, Hyunjin was more than ecstatic to take you out into the city the next day, in fact he would barely even let you leave his side at all. You had one wonderful day with your boyfriend visiting themed cafes, taking pictures in the park, walking through art exhibits, and ending at a rooftop restaurant with a spectacular view of the city skyline. When you were curled up in each other’s arms that night, you were the happiest you had been in a while and easily fell asleep with a smile on your face.

When you woke up that morning, all you felt was confused as you rolled over expecting to see your boyfriend’s messy black locks falling over his face as he slept peacefully only to be greeted by a cold empty space, telling you that he’s been up for a while. You stretched the stiffness from your body that sleep had left you with and flopped your hands back down in your lap, looking around wondering where Hyunjin could have gone. The mystery wasn’t left unsolved for long when you heard muffled noises coming from the bathroom. “Jinnie?” you called out as you padded over to the bathroom door of the hotel room that was left slightly ajar.

“Y/n,” you were slightly taken aback by how weak he sounded, and worry caused your stomach to churn.

You softly knocked on the door even if it wasn’t completely closed, still wanting to give him some privacy before asking, “are you alright?”

“I’m okay. You can go back to bed, love.” His voice was scratchy and strained, and the sound of dry heaves wracking his body punctuated his sentence. The contents of his stomach had long since been expelled leaving nothing but the motions of vomiting to tear through his body.

“Hyunjin,” You pushed the door open to find him draped over the toilet looking completely exhausted regardless of the fact that the day had barely even started. He sunk back against the wall with his head thrown back trying to catch his breath. You quickly crossed the bathroom and lowered yourself on the floor next to him. You ran your hands through his hair that was damp with sweat before placing the back of your hand against his forehead, “Jinnie, you’re burning up.”

He squeezed his eyes shut in pain and clutched his stomach with one arm, “you shouldn’t have to see me like this…”

“Baby, you know I love you in sickness and in health. I’m not going anywhere,” you gently tucked his hair behind his ears as your heart sank watching his face contort in pain.

“If you start saying vows, I’m going to have to start calling you my wife,” he weakly laughed before keening over clutching his stomach harder.

You rubbed soothing circles on his back as you watched him through furrowed brows. “I’m going to get the staff medic.”

You stood up to do just that when a shaky hand reached up to grab your wrist, and Hyunjin was looking up at you with panicked and pleading eyes, “love, I’m just grabbing my phone, okay?” You gently coaxed his hand away and kissed the back of it before going to fetch your phone.

You quickly returned back to Hyunjin’s side; he was in the same position you had left him. You called the staff medic to come and help Hyunjin while he rested his head on your shoulder. There were still beads of sweat running down his forehead, but he was slightly shivering as if he were cold. After pocketing your phone, you helped Hyunjin off the floor on shaky legs, and you let him support his weight on your shoulders as you led him back to bed.

Not shortly after, the staff medic arrived to inform you that Hyunjin had a case of food poisoning. He advised Hyunjin to stay hydrated as well as get plenty of rest in order to recover, and he told him which over the counter drug would help his upset stomach. You were making a mental list in your head of all the things that you would need to get Hyunjin when you went to the store as the medic was telling him. Once they finally left, Hyunjin tucked himself into your side while groaning about how bad he felt.

“I think I’m dying,” he whined with his head buried in the crook of your neck.

You lightly laughed at his dramatics, and you could feel the pout that formed on his lips against your skin, “I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”

“You’re already giving up on me,” he pulled away from your neck to look up at you with an overexaggerated frown and wide sad eyes.

“Love, you’re the one who said it.”

“Yeah, but that was where you were supposed to reassure me and tell me everything was going to be okay.”

“Ohhh okay, my bad. Say it again.” you wiped the smile from your face and pretended to get into character by exhaling.

His eyes briefly shone with amusement and a small giggle escaped his lips before he whined again, “I can’t believe my tombstone is going to read death by a food I can’t even remember eating.”

This time you pulled him closer into you to which he responded by readily wrapping his arms around your body, and you combed your fingers through his tangled hair, gently massaging his scalp, “I won’t let anything happen to you, my better half, partner in crime, love of my life.” He released a huff not quite satisfied with your mocking tone. “What?” Your lips quirked up in a smile as you feigned innocence. You leaned down to kiss his forehead, “Seriously, I promise to always take care of you.” You said with your lips lingering on his skin.

“There you go with the wedding vows again,” Hyunjin joked, but at your words, he completely relaxed against you with a warm smile on his face.

You shrugged as you said, “Well, you were going to hear them sooner or later.”

You could see a blush bloom across his cheeks and creep up his ears from where he rested his head against your chest with his eyes closed. “Yeah, you’re right…” he softly said which caused a matching pink tint to appear on your face.

A silent promise passed between the two of you, and you stroked soothing circles on his back. Hyunjin’s breathing became shallow as he slipped asleep, and you watched his eyebrows tighten and untighten, still struggling through his sickness. You pulled the sheets over him since the comforter was too hot, but he would shiver without anything at all covering him. You kept him close against you wishing that you could take away all of his pain, willing to take it as your own.

Since that wasn’t possible, you knew the first step was getting the remedies that the medic had said, but you didn’t exactly want to leave your sick sleeping boyfriend. You decided to send a text to Chan to see if he would do this favor for you, and of course, no more than a second later, Chan informed you he was already on it. You spent the little time it took Chan to go to the store watching over Hyunjin, softly pressing your lips to his forehead to check his temperature every now and then, and holding him wrapped up in your arms. Finally, there was a knock on the hotel room door.

You quietly untangled yourself from Hyunjin and tried to slip out of his grasp when his eyes softly fluttered open, and he pulled you back into him. “Nooo,” he sounded weak again as he whined which just made your chest pang with distress. “Don’t let me go, please.”

“Love, I’m just answering the door,” you reassured him as you gently removed yourself from his arms which he immediately moved to clutch his stomach. You fought the urge to crawl back into bed to hold him as you went to answer Chan at the door.

“How is he?” Chan asked quietly as soon as you pulled the door open.

“He’s going through it right now. I really want him to feel better soon.”

Chan’s eyes reflected your own sad expression, and he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, all the guys are worried about him, but we feel better knowing you’re here to take care of him.”

You felt a little less helpless at the encouragement from Chan and the rest of the guys. “I’ll do everything I can to help him.”

“Thank you, y/n. Let us know if you need anything else, seriously.” With that, you took both the bags that were in Chan’s hands and said goodbye to him before returning to your boyfriend’s side. You sat back on the bed, and Hyunjin slowly pulled himself up against the headboard as if it took him a lot of effort to do so.

“What’s in the bags?” He tried to clear his throat to speak louder, but it was to no avail.

You peeked into the bags, “ooo, there’s water… electrolyte drinks… and medicine.” You tried to sound cheerful to make it more exciting.

“Ugh, medicine. Ew, pass.” Hyunjin tried to reach out and grab a bag, but you handed him one of the electrolyte drinks, watching him drink with a trembling hand.

“Hyunjin, you’re taking the medicine.”

He tried his best to appeal to you with his round dark eyes, but once he saw you weren’t backing down, he begrudgingly took the medicine. After he had finished his drink, you could tell he felt just a bit better from the way his shoulders perked up a bit more which in turn made you feel better too. He eagerly climbed back into your arms and snuggled against you releasing a content sigh despite his body still dully aching. You softly rubbed his tummy as he got ready to go back to his restorative rest.

“Y/n?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m so sorry I ruined this trip for you…”

You could see the guilt that laced his features as you halted your movements. You moved up your hand to gently caress his cheek, “Hyunjin, I just want to be wherever you are.” He let his eyes close, listening to your voice as he leaned into your touch as if that was what he needed to heal him. “You just focus on getting better.”

“You make everything better.” He answered softly before turning his head and kissing your palm.

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Rachel Daly x Reader

Part Nineteen - Surrounded

You’d never been on such a long flight before, Florida had been the furthest you’ve traveled but that was when you were young and barely within memory. A feeling of dread sunk into you the night before - over 30 hours of travelling in a flying tin tube can do that to a person. The thought of exciting spontaneity had drifted away in the early hours of the morning and had been replaced with stomach churning anxiety. Unable to sleep as Rach snored loudly next to you, the more she breathed the more you were getting frustrated; knowing that if you’re not well slept you get grumpy and that’s the last impression you want to make in front of everyone.. although you’re sure that you won’t be the only nervous flyer on the plane tomorrow, well today seeing as it’s 2am now. Putting up with Rachel’s snoring was getting hard to bare, every breath was a reminder that she was asleep and you were not. You’re used to falling asleep first and being a deep sleeper the snoring never usually bothers you but tonight it felt like world war three was boiling up in your stomach. In a desperate attempt not to project your frustrations onto your girlfriend you decided to get up and run on the treadmill for a while - you’d been working out a lot more now there’s a gym in the house. You ran until your body felt tired then had a warm shower but that was a mistake as it only woke you up again. Moving into the lounge where your suitcases were waiting you sat and stared at them for a while until something took over your body and made you pull everything out of them. Convinced you’d forgotten something and your mind beyond able to listen to reasoning made your arms frantically unpack everything you’d squeezed in, albeit most of the stuff probably unnecessary. The words of your girlfriend “if we forget something, we can just buy it” far off in the distance. You’re not used to having spare money to spend on stuff needlessly, if you have it already it’s coming. Unfortunately half way through packing everything back into it’s place, you fell asleep.

Awakening to a slight shake of your body you opened one eye to see Rach staring down at you from above “what’s happened here then?” her soft morning voice broke the silence. Grunting in realisation you’d fallen asleep surrounded by your belongings and were using them as a blanket, you wedged your eyes shut determined to get more zzz’s. “I couldn’t sleep” you mumbled trying to force her to stop talking and leave you alone. “What’s the time?” you asked hoping beyond anything that you’d at least got a few hours but when Rach said it was 6am you could not control your disappointment that she’d woken you up. “Just leave me, I’ll tidy this up later” pulling a pair of shorts over your eyes to block out the sun. “I’m not leaving you in the middle of the floor (y/n/n), come on” Rach bent down and scooped your tired body into her arms to carry you upstairs, laying you gently on the bed she sat with you for a while stroking your hair until you fell back to sleep.

Rachel’s morning hadn’t started quite the way she’d expected it to, making herself a cuppa tea and sitting cross legged on the floor to pack up your suitcase again. She wasn’t angry, she knew this was out of the ordinary for you and had wondered when the anxiety was going to kick in. A few hours passed when she heard you stirring so flicked the kettle on then crawled back into bed with you. “Are you okay baby?” she asked as her arms wrapped around your body making you the little spoon. “How did I get here?” your voice croaky and your eyes still shut but comforted by your lady’s hold on you. “You don’t remember?” with a shake of your head Rachel filled you in on your early morning antics. Groaning in annoyance at yourself that you’ve now go to pack your entire suitcase again, something you’ve done every day for the past two weeks. “Don’t worry darlin’, I’ve sorted it” she kissed your cheek “you didn’t have to do that doll” shuffling around so you were facing her, eyes squinting from the light coming through the curtains. “I know how big of a thing this is for you, I just wish you’d have woken me up” she said gazing into your tired eyes. You laughed softly to yourself remembering how mad you were at Rachel’s snoring and told her that. “I’m dreading this flight Rach” pushing your face into her chest so your words were barely audible. You don’t like admitting when you’re scared but a worry shared and all that. “Hey it could be worse, you could be on a public plane! You’ve always wanted to go to Australia, you’ve got me and Millie and all the others, I’m sure Mary will keep you busy with TikToks! All the snacks you could want, leg room for miles, beds; we’re gonna have a great time. You won’t even realise we’ll be flying for so long. And we stop off for a whole day in Dubai, have you ever been there?” Shaking your head with mild amusement, “do I look like the type of person that’s ever been to Dubai before?” your eyebrow raised in an unsurprising fashion. “Well, we get to have an adventure there too! Another magnet for your mum’s fridge!” she smiled squeezing you tightly. Rach always knew what to say - never called you silly or your feelings stupid, always validated your emotions and made them feel normal. Rachel was the most supportive person you’d ever had in your life, never questioning or demeaning and you were starting to realise what a healthy relationship truly was.

Gathering at SGP you were greeted excitedly by some of the others, Millie and Mary came bounding over to see you both the second they noticed your car pull up. Jordan came over with her arms out shouting “look who’s here!” The days of watching Villa together on the sidelines while she was injured ran through your mind. She’d talked about her worries about making the team and you were so happy to see her here. “I’m so proud of you!!” screaming as you scooped her up, “I told you you’d do it!” Soon it was 5pm and everyone boarded the coach which included a lot of karaoke that you were urged to join in with. Checking in at the airport made everything suddenly seem real, the nerves were starting to set in and it wasn’t going unnoticed. The girls linked your arms and lead you on board the flight - Rach in the middle and you and Mill either side of her. The plane was like nothing you’d ever seen before, there were even cabins with beds at the front! Food was served and you watched films together, they then entertained themselves by interviewing you on how it felt to be on your way to your first ever World Cup. After they both fell asleep you listened to music before trying to get some shut eye yourself until the lights came back on. You’ve never been able to sleep on flights but you had never been on a private plane with so much room before so you quickly drifted off and stayed that way for hours.

Part 20 - On Top of the World

[whimsyprinx]

UFO anon here! Yeah my bro tried to murder me, just family things 🤪 Anyways it was super wild so buckle up.

I was up super late at night when I was a teen cause I was a menace and never went to bed before like 4 am. And you know that thing where something happens so slowly you don’t notice it until it’s right there? Well over the course of like half an hour a sound kept getting louder. It was a deep humming that sounded like a mosquito fogger a block or two away, so I brushed it off as it’s common in my area in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t realize til later that it was WAY too early in the season for that my months. I brushed the noise off until I could feel it, it had three tones a mid tone, a very high pitched tone, and an incredibly deep bass tone. The made my guts shake like when you stand too close to a bass. I thought it was strange that nothing else was shaking.

I still brushed it off 🙄

My blinds were open as I lived in a middle of nowhere town (can’t stress that enough) so there was really no risk of creeps. I could see a street lamp, the top of my neighbours house and some trees. I saw another light but we had had a storm a few days before and figured maybe a branch had been knocked down so again, ignored it and went back to playing video games, until it moved.

Obviously I thought ‘no fucking way’ but decided to watch it anyways just to confirm. It moved so slowly but it moved. So I got up to get a better look. It was huge, similar in colour to the street lamps but more red. There was just enough light pollution in town to see a giant black triangle behind the single light.

I grew up right next to an airbase and was an air cadet on the base, and my mother was an aircraft mechanic (I know, sounds super convenient) even seeing tons of aircrafts in my life, I had never seen anything close to it. Considering it’s size and general height to the ground it shouldn’t have been able to move as slowly as it was.

My first instinct was to be excited, even if it was alien in origin it was still probably not seen by really anyone. I thought maybe it was a flight test for a secret craft? But why would they be flying it over my town?

I had a game plan. I was going to grab a phone and go to my back porch to get a photo or any evidence that I saw something, I was ecstatic! I practically skipped to my bedroom door.

As soon as I opened my door and was just about to do through it, it was like a switched flipped in my brain. I went from giddy to the most but deep terrified I have ever been in my life. I remember thinking ‘if you go outside, you’re not coming back’ but it made me sick because it didn’t feel like my own thought, like someone was telling to me.

As I was standing in the doorframe I could see someone or something in my peripheral at the far end of the hall. I could hear my brother snoring, and my mum was in bed too. They were the only other in the house.

My body felt like it was on auto pilot. Almost mechanically I took off my slippers and my glasses, and went to get in bed. For a minute I thought of looking for something I could use as a weapon but again the ‘other’ thought was in my head and said (and I will never forget it) ‘there is nothing you could do, no weapon you can have, that’s going to stop what’s going to happen from happening’

So I just accepted it and got into bed, pulled the covers to my chin and laid like a corpse totally defenceless, I’ve never felt more like a prey animal than in that moment.

I waited for anything to happen, and nothing did. After such a long build up the noise faded in what fell like maybe five minutes. I’m a big trust your gut person, so I waiting until I felt safe and RAN to my mums room. (This is mad long so I’ll send another part lmao)

AGH I forgot to answer these I’m so sorry for the delay!

brushing stuff off is so real though, idk I feel like it’s just What You Do. Holy shit this is all so much, you’re far braver than I am, idk if I could investigate things like that all on my own abdjgjkt. Your reaction is also so real like, I’d also end up running to my bed until I felt safe then running to the nearest adult or person

[forever-rogue]

Bliss

AN | It’s just some fluff. But let’s be real, they deserve a break and to have some fun! Can be read as a stand alone or part of the ‘verse! ❤️

Summary | Javi and Dulzura finally go to Spain for their anniversary.

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.8k

Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Javier hadn’t been able to sleep on the flight. It had been both out of habit - from his time in the DEA and now with his children - and from sheer excitement. He couldn’t believe you’d gone and planned all of this for him; even if you claimed it was for your own selfish reasons as well, it still warmed his heart and made him feel something he couldn’t quite describe. He was still so in love with you. 

He turned his attention from the window, from where he could see Spain coming closer and closer, to you. You were sprawled out on the seat next to him, legs stretching across the third seat (unoccupied by some miracle), eyes closed as you snored lightly. You’d fallen asleep about halfway through, exhausted from the long day that the two of you already had; plus you were at the point in your pregnancy when you were constantly tired. Almost as if you felt him watching you or heard his thoughts, you peeked at him with one eye open, "take a picture, it'll last longer Peña."

"Already did," he grinned as you laughed lightly before stretching, "got about ten of you with your mouth hanging open and drooling. I think I should upload those to-"

"Don't you dare, Javier Peña, or…"

"Or what?"

"I can't think of a proper threat," you huffed playfully before leaning over to kiss him, "not when you're looking at me like that, with your dumb handsome face."

"Oh, you think I’m handsome?” he raised an eyebrow as you just groaned at him, “it’s probably the only reason you haven’t killed me yet.”

“There are plenty of reasons, cielito,” you leaned in so you were whispering in his ear, grazing your lips against his jaw, “mostly that I don’t want to raise five children on my own.”

"I had that coming didn't I?" he huffed in amusement as you gently kissed him, "I love you."

"I love you more," you sat back down just in time for the announcement to buckle up. You grinned excitedly as you buckled in and reached for his hand, "almost there! This is so exciting!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first week and a half was spent playing the part of excited tourists. You didn’t even care that you probably looked way too over eager. You were having fun and that was all that mattered. The best part of it all was that you had Javi with you. You couldn’t have asked for a better person to take the trip with. He happily obliged all your little whims, from letting you take pictures of him, taking selfies (he always grumbled that he didn’t get the appeal but would never say no to you), taking pictures of you (his favorite thing), stopping at the little street side vendors and trying all the little hole in the way restaurants and hopes. 

But your favorite thing? Getting to watch Javi relax and have fun, without having to worry about anything else. If anyone deserved a little break, it was him. 

“I like this,” you said between spoonfuls of ice cream, as he turned to look at you, “being here on vacation. With you. Not having to worry about anything for a little while. Part of me wishes it could be this way forever.”

“Me too,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, kissing the top of your head, “you’d miss them you know. Home isn’t too bad either.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I like it there too. But maybe we could do this once in a while too, just you and I.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” he felt choked up by how gentle and soft you were being, caught up in the moment, “come on, I see you eyeing that museum. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure? I feel like I’ve dragged you through so many…”

“That may be so,” he took your hand, “but I like going with you. Come on.”

“Fuck me,” you whispered under your breath, “how do you still manage to make me fall in love with you every day?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he was practically glowing, “now come on! There’s no time to waste!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Dulzura…" his voice was so gentle and soft, you were sure that you were still dreaming. You felt the drag of his lips across your bare shoulder, making a small sound as you burrowed further into your pillow. You heard him laugh quietly before an arm wrapped around your waist, "baby."

"Javi," his name was sweet as honey off your lips as you rolled over to face him. He was watching you with bright eyes, his hair a mess and sticking up at all angles. A playful little smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, "you're so handsome, my love.”

"Mmm," he hummed quietly as he reached up and cupped your cheek, "happy anniversary, mi Dulzura."

"Happy anniversary, Javier," you turned so you could press a kiss to his palm, "here's to today and many more. All of them. Forever with you."

"Forever," he agreed before moving so you were caged between his arms. He leaned down to kiss you, letting his lips linger gently before nudging your nose with his, "beautiful, gorgeous girl. Can I make love to you?"

"Yes," he could feel you smiling against his lips, "please."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Almost ready?" Javier came out of the ensuite bathroom to find you in front of the mirror, holding up and contemplating two different bathing suits, "everything okay, Dulzura?"

"Yes," you shrugged, "I'm just…I know I'm being overly critical, but I don't know which one to wear."

He looked over the two options and he immediately could see what you were talking about. One of the options was a more modest one piece and the other was a more colorful (and if he was being completely honest sexy) two piece. Javier knew you would look stunning in either, "well, which do you feel like wearing?"

"They're both nice but I think one piece would be better-”

"That's not what I asked," he said softly as he came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder, "which one would you like to wear today?"

"The two piece."

"Then you'll wear the two piece," he insisted, offering you a smile in the mirror. You couldn't help but smile back, "you don't have to tell me what you're thinking, because I think I know, but I want you to know that you are the most stunning, beautiful woman I have ever met. Nothing’s ever going to change that. I love you more than I could ever put into words."

"Thank you," your voice was almost inaudible as you turned around to properly hug him, "you always know to say."

"What can I say? I try," he kissed your cheek before a hand slid down your back and to grab at your ass, "you'd look sexy in anything."

"Insatiable," you giggled, playfully slapping his chest, "good thing I want you just as much."

"Fuck," he groaned softly, "we better stop or we're not going to make it out of the room today."

"Doesn't sound too bad to me," you winked, "but you're right. It's our anniversary and I was promised a seaside sunset dinner. Let me just change real quick and we'll be good to go."

"Menace," you heard him say under his breath before something in Spanish you didn't quite catch. You loved getting him this flustered; you loved that you still had managed to have that effect on time after all this time. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Javi,” you gently nudged his leg with yours, causing him to look from his book, “I want to go in the water. Come swimming with me.”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask,” he marked his page and snapped his book shut, “I’d love to you. One thing first - I think it’s time for more sunscreen.”

“You’re looking for any reason to touch me, aren’t you?” you stuck your tongue at him before handing over the bottle of the lotion, “not that I’m complaining of course.”

“I just want to make sure you and bump are safe from the sun’s harmful rays,” he gently smoothed the sunscreen across your back, his hands reaching over every part of your body.

“Me and bump?” you giggled softly, “is that what we’re calling the baby now? I’m not even…okay it’s kind of there. I’m only like 10 weeks right now. I swear it shows earlier each time.”

“It’ll be a real bump soon enough,” you could practically hear the smile in his voice as he motioned for you to turn around, “and we don’t know what it is, so for right now, bump.”

“I don’t want to find out,” you confessed, “last kid - I want it to be a surprise.”

“I like the sound of that,” he gently started to lotion your front, taking care to make sure your shoulders were properly covered as well as your chest and stomach, where his touch was just that much extra gentle, “besides, I guarantee you it’s going to be a girl.”

“Look at that dear husband,” you brushed some curls out of his face before taking the bottle from him, “fifth kid and we finally agree on what it will be. Come on, let me get you. Just because you tan doesn’t mean you won’t burn!”

Javier made a small sound in his throat as you gently made sure his entire body was properly covered. It didn’t help that you skimmed your fingers along the waistband of his trunks, dipping them just under to touch him lightly, He coughed into his hand to cover up a small groan that escaped his lips despite his best efforts. 

“There,” you smudged a little on his nose before quickly stealing a kiss from him, “all set, my love. Now we just have to wait about fifteen minutes and then into the water we go!”

You shifted so you were next to him, laying your head on his chest, “will you read to me?”

“You really want me to read A Tale of Two Cities to you?” he reached for his glasses and slipped them before reopening his book, “are you aware that this isn’t exactly the most exciting book?”

“I don’t care,” you insisted, “I could listen to the sound of your voice all day. You could read the toothpaste packaging to me and I’d still love it.”

“Aye,” he chided but there was a smile on face nonetheless. He found his spot on the page, “here we are…”

By the time Javier stopped, you were close to sleep and enough time had passed for you to be able to swim. He gently helped you sit up, before reaching for the sunglasses atop your head, taking them off and tossing them onto your towel. There was that mischievous little glint in his eye, and you knew immediately what was going through his mind.

“Javier,” you wiggled out of his grasp, but he had better reflexes, “Javier Peña don’t you dare!”

“Come on, sweet little wife,” his voice was saccharine but you could hear the teasing lilt in his voice, “I just want to hold you, is that so wrong?”

“You’re up to no good!” you shrieked with laughter as you managed to get to your feet in a vain attempt to get away from him, “no! Don’t do this to your wife! To your unborn child! Think of bump!”

“Bump wants to go for a swim,” he laughed as he easily caught up and wrapped his arms around your waist and held you to him. He managed to pick you, slowly carrying you towards the water as you meekly tried to get away, “you wanted to swim in the ocean, I’m only helping you!”

“No!” you were breathless from your laughter by now, “don’t dump me in!”

“I’m gently putting you in,” he kissed the top of your head, before stepping into the water, gently letting you so you could get your bearings, “see? I’m not that bad.”

“Javi,” you dipped below the surface, getting fully immersed in the water before coming back up, “I love you, silly man! Hey, I’ll race you to that little sandbar over there!”

“You’re so on!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Javi,” you poked your head out of the bathroom, trying to locate him in the large hotel room, “cielito?”

“I’m here,” he called to you, “on the balcony. Everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s just…this is silly, but can you leave until we go to dinner?” you bit the inside of your cheek as he stepped inside and caught your eye, “I know it’s silly…it’s just…please?”

“Whatever you want, Dulzura,” his thumb gently stroked your cheek, “I’ll finish getting dressed in here and then I’ll go and wait outside. I’ll meet you at the restaurant? 

“Si,” you agreed, “gracias, mi amor.” 

His hands found your face, as he gently leaned in and kissed you. It was just a simple, sweet thing, but left butterflies in your stomach, “see you soon.”

Javier dressed quickly in what he had brought for your anniversary dinner; he knew it wasn’t necessary to dress up, but he had wanted to. He wanted to make this evening as special as possible - after all, ten years of marriage was nothing to scoff at. The time with you had been the best years of his life. 

When he had first laid eyes on as he’d called out your name while going through the roster, he knew you were different. But never in a million years would he have guessed just how important you would become to him. More than important - you were…his everything. His sunshine on even the darkest days, having managed to pull him and rescue him more times than he could count. You had given him so much, your time, your love, children, a home; you were not only his wife, you were truly his best friend, his partner in everything, the love of his life, his media naranja. You had single handedly taken everything he thought he knew and turned it upside down.  

He stopped along one of the stands on his walk to the beachside restaurant and picked up a bouquet of the same flowers he’d gotten for you on your wedding day. It wasn’t much, but he hoped you would like them nevertheless. He was practically bouncing over to the restaurant, looking over the horizon to see the sun beginning to set. The timing was perfect. 

He’d grabbed his phone out of his pocket, deciding to take a picture of the beautiful scenery. He was so invested in making sure he was getting a decent picture that he hadn’t heard you approach until he heard you say, “hello there, Señor Peña.”

Javier almost dropped his phone, fumbling with it instead before stuffing into his pocket to turn to his. When he finally turned to you, his mouth almost dropped open; how was it possible for you to be this beautiful? You watched him drink you in, tilted your head to the side and gave him a sweet little smile. 

“What?” your face flushed with warmth at his intent gaze, “do you like it?”

“You look beautiful,” he managed to choke out. You were wearing a white dress, simple and understated but it fit you perfectly and made you look even more ethereal than ever. You’d put on the diamond necklace he’d gotten you as an anniversary present and kept your hair and makeup more natural. His breath hitched into throat as he tried to keep it together, “you’re so beautiful. Fuck me. How did I get so lucky?”

“Javi,” you put your hand on his cheek before leaning in to kiss him gently, “I…maybe it’s silly, but I didn’t wear a white dress when we got married and I figured since this is the honeymoon we never had and our tenth wedding anniversary, what better time? Is it okay? Or too much?”

“It’s perfect,” he promised softly, “you’re perfect.”

“Far from it,” you fanned your hand at your eyes to keep any tears at bay, “what about you? You look amazing, Javi. You just keep getting sexier, it’s really not fair. But you’re mine - as I am yours - so I’m not really missing out, am I?”

“Happy anniversary, mi Dulzura,” he held up the flowers to you and you made a small sound of excitement at them, “te amo con todo.”

“They’re beautiful, Javier,” you clutched them gently to your chest. You studied him; he was dressed in fitted gray dress pants and a crisp white button that fit him way too well. It was simple, but he still managed to look so handsome, “wait…these are the same as the bouquet you got me on our wedding day, oh Javi.”

“I hope you like them.”

“I love them - I love you,” you wrapped your arms and hugged him tightly, “thank you. I…I didn’t get you anything! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”

“What about this trip?” he asked as he brushed a few locks of hair out of your face, “what about bump? What about that blowjob earlier-”

“Pendejo,” you giggled as you swatted his chest before whispering, “you can have another later too, if you’d like.”

“You’re going to kill me,” he rasped, “as much as I’d like to do that right now, we’ve got reservations. And I believe my beautiful wife wanted dinner by the beach under the sunset in Mallorca.”

“Thank you, Javier,” you squeezed his hand as you both started to walk the short distance to the restaurant, “thank you for everything. I love you more than you will ever know.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This is the part where I’d toast to us,” you picked up your glass of sparkling water and lightly clinked it against his, “but I can’t drink right now, we’ll pretend this is champagne. You could have had a drink, Javi.”

“I know,” he picked up his glass and playfully saluted you before taking a long swig, “but where’s the fun in that? Besides, solidarity baby.”

“Hmm,” you took a drink of water, sitting back and taking a moment to look out at the ocean, watching as the last of the orange and pink hues faded into pastel blues and purples. It was wonderful, just like everything today had been, “it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, his eyes never leaving you, “absolutely beautiful.”

“Happy anniversary, Javier,” you reached across the table, putting your hand on top of his as you gave his a squeeze, “I love you.”

“Happy anniversary, Dulzura,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “how are you feeling? Are you tired?”

“No more than normal,” you gave him a curious little look, “what are you thinking? As if I didn’t already know..”

“Not that,” he playfully scoffed, “okay, well maybe that too. But, I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a little walk on the beach.”

“How very romantic of you, Javier,” you nudged his foot with yours, “I’d love to.”

“The romance is still alive and well baby,” he winked, “only for you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It never failed to amaze you at how perfectly your hand fit in his…like his hand was meant to hold yours. He’d caught you looking at your entwined hands a few times, but didn’t comment on it. He wasn’t sure if he could even put what he was feeling into words. 

You’d both forgone your shoes, walking in the sand where the water was gently lapping onto the beach. There was a lingering bit of warmth filling the air along with the smell of fresh salt air. Neither of you spoke much, but then again, there wasn’t anything either of you felt compelled to say. That was not, until he caught you staring at him. 

“What?” he asked when he noticed your furrowed brows. You tugged on his hand and pulled him against you, “I know that look - what’s on your mind?”

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told you before?” you bit the inside of your cheek as he nodded, watching you with curiosity, “I…umm…”

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s not even anything bad, it’s just silly,” you admitted with a sheepish smile, “I almost dropped out of your class. After that first day and then again after our first date.”

“Oh?” his eyebrows shot up in surprise as you shrugged innocently, “why? Did I scare you?”

“It wasn’t you, Javi,” you kissed his cheek and he relaxed slightly, “not exactly. I…panicked. After the first class it was…different. I already knew that it was going to be different then. And I thought maybe it would be better to dip while I had the chance.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” you grinned, “I figured nothing was wrong, nothing happened. Why fight it? Then after the time we went out at the café, I realized just how much I liked you. How could you like someone you were still getting to know that much? It scared me - all these feelings and I wondered if you felt the same or if it was just me. I’d never - and still never have - felt that way about someone before. It wasn’t hard to fall in love with you, Javier.”

“You worried that…I wouldn’t like you as much?” he let out a nervous breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, “and that whole time I was worried about running you off.”

“That really worked out,” you snorted with laughter, “I guess we really are stuck with each other, aren’t we?”

“No one else I’d rather be stuck with,” his hands found your face as he gently kissed you, “I love you.”

“What about Steve?”

“I love you slightly less now,” he tried to keep a straight face but dissolved into laughter when you pinched his side.

“You know what, if we have another boy I’m naming him Steve,” you backed away from him, grinned from ear to ear before starting to run, “you can’t stop me! If it’s a girl, Stevenia!”

“Never,” he shook his head before running after you, finding you much quicker than he expected, “you cheated!”

“I did not! Just because you have slow reflexes, old man!”

“You’re asking for it-”

“Not a threat if you don’t catch me!” you kept running but Javier quickly caught up, grabbing your hand to stop you and pull you towards him. You somehow managed to trip over your own foot and stumbled backwards, taking him down with you. Instinctively he managed to cushion your fall, landing on the soft sand with you on top of him, “oops…I guess I’m the threat.”

“What am I going to do with you?” he settled his hands on your hips as you just offered him a small grin. He sat up so you were perched in his lap before he kissed you, “I guess I’ll keep you.”

“Forever?”

“Forever,” he agreed softly, “let’s get back to the hotel and get cleaned off.”

“Good idea,” you slowly moved to stand up, offering your hand to help him, “you know…it’s still early. I don’t think I’m very tired yet.”

“I like the way you think,” he grinned, “happy anniversary, Dulzura.”

“Happy anniversary, cielito.”

[benedictscanvas]

sage-coloured glasses - spencer reid x reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: This is just a barrel of soft cardigans thrown in your face, with just the smallest mention of nightmares

A/N: This is technically a 2nd part to ‘a shared heart’, but there are only vague mentions of it and this can easily be read on its own. I simply wanted some soft Spence in his natural habitat and I hope this can be of some comfort to you too, if you’re in need of it <3

---

His hair was oh-so-soft underneath your fingertips but the thought felt forbidden. You hadn’t expected him to have soft hair. It always looked soft, yes, the small, unruly strands that he regularly curled behind his ear looked like the fluffy hair of a man who felt most at home in a library and wore cardigans. But in the line of work you were in, you were used to things having hard edges and sharp corners.

Not Spencer’s hair. It delivered on its visual promise as you slowly wove your fingers through the strands and tattooed the memory of them into your skin, let it sink into your very bones. When his head had hit your lap on your flight back home with a murmured question of permission, it had been like a magnet. Your hand was in his hair before you even gave him your answer, but it was an answer in itself.

“‘Course, Spence.”

A reassurance. His only response was a grateful hum as he tucked his legs up onto the sofa and you shuffled to make as much room for him as you could. You were slightly falling off the end of the sofa, getting cramp in your toes as you put your weight into your left foot to keep yourself in place. The armrest was digging into your hip and it should have been uncomfortable.

And yet, it wasn’t. Not when you lightly scritch-scratched at his scalp and he turned further into you, the curve of his nose pressing into your knee. Comfort wrapped itself around you like a warm blanket and you could only hope he was swathed in it too.

“Sleep,” you mumbled a few moments later, “I’ll wake you when we land.”

Silence. A rustle of fabric as he brought his arm up from his side, graced your knee with a feather-light squeeze then let his hand rest against your knee, right by his nose. A relieved exhale.

Twenty minutes passed. His breaths were deep and even, bordering on a snore every once in a while. Your fingers hadn’t stilled their dance through his hair, although they had slowed down in time with the rise and fall of his chest. Your neck ached and your heart did too.

Emily crept over with some paperwork after another ten. You reached over and took it with a nod and a smile, grateful that she kept silent too as she returned to her seat next to Derek. There was a little nudging and whispering as she sat back down, Dave turning in his seat to glance back at the two of you sporting a smirk that spoke volumes. No matter, as long as Spencer’s shoulder kept digging into your thigh for the rest of eternity.

It was tricky to complete the paperwork over his head without anything to lean on except your own hand. Another worthwhile sacrifice. Cases like this one were difficult for everyone. It was the type of case that set up camp in your mind in preparation for the nightmares that it would guest star in for the weeks to come. When you relayed that analogy to Spencer a few months ago, he’d laughed. Only someone who understood the feeling could laugh like that.

“Sorry I crashed on you,” Spencer spoke up just as you were forging his signature on a document that you’d all have to sign in time. He’d done it for you before, an unspoken agreement to save each other time.

(it was similar to the unspoken agreement to care when no one else had the time to, or the silent pact to share ‘good morning’ muffins whenever they were available, or the wordless understanding that he was your person and you were his)

You glanced down at him and were surprised to see that he’d rolled to lie on his back, just to stare up at you. Your hand was, embarrassingly, still carding through his hair each time you placed your pen between your teeth to read something through and you couldn’t imagine the angle he was staring from was your most flattering. Still, his eyes sparkled under the overhead aeroplane lights, which you wouldn’t have thought possible. It was likely a matter of perspective.

“Don’t be,” you waved him away, focusing your attention back on the paper in your hand before you gave it all away. Your hand fell limp in his hair, if only because you were too stubborn to remove it. Removing it now, after all, would only be an obvious admission of something you had been failing to hide for months now, “I’ve been told I have a comfy lap.”

“By whom?”

“Cats, mostly.”

He huffed a small laugh that travelled right the way up your spine.

“Cats are intelligent,” he mused quietly, resting his hands on his stomach, one on top of the other. A grounding technique that made you blink, “You can’t be comfortable though, doing paperwork like this.”

“What can I say? I’m a generous person.”

He hummed in lieu of an answer, but you could tell he felt guilty for the position he’d put you in. If only he could see that you were practically hanging off the seat, see the ridge that the armrest was definitely imprinting into your side, then he’d really feel guilty, but of course, that was the last thing you wanted him to feel.

(of course, there was also a part of you that dreamt of apologies whispered into your skin, of fingers skimming over fabric, of delicate kisses pressed to your hip-bone. of a guilt that melts away with each murmured confession of adoration. of a blissful atonement for a sin you’d already forgiven)

“Honestly, Spence, you’re fine. I would’ve moved you if I was uncomfortable.”

And you would have moved by now if you really felt that bad, you thought to yourself, relishing in the fact that he hadn’t moved yet, that you could still feel his gaze on your chin as you pretended to skim over the words on the page, once, twice, once again.

“You want me to take over paperwork duty?”

“I told you to sleep,” you said instead, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I did sleep, for at least 30 minutes, which we both know is good for my standards.”

His rebuttal was punctuated by his hands both reaching up, making grabbing motions towards the stack of papers you were pouring through. Knowing how much faster he would be at getting through whatever was left, you heaved the pile into his hands with a sigh and watched as he held them up in front of his face and began reading, blocking your view of him entirely. It was impossible not to feel cheated.

When he reached a section he had to write in, he held his hand up for a pen. You gave him one from your jacket pocket rather than the one that had been in your mouth, knowing that he would be grateful if he knew. When he’d finished scribbling, you’d take the pen back from him, lean your head against the headrest until the cycle repeated. Occasionally he shuffled his head in your lap and your hand would slide a little further into his hair, but nothing was said. You took it as a cue to stay right where you were.

As expected, he finished the paperwork far sooner than you would have done. When he reached behind his head to put it on the table next to you, you took it from him before he could pull a muscle in his shoulder and he muttered his thanks. Now you could see him again, it was difficult to fight off a smile. Maybe the paperwork in the way had been more beneficial than you thought.

Briefly, you wondered how many of your signatures he’d forged in the documents he’d gone through, wondered how much better he was at forgery than you, but you didn’t check the paperwork in case he thought you were checking his work was up to par.

“You just saved me an hour’s work,” you sighed happily, “My angel once again.”

It was a nickname that had stuck around. From the time he’d shared his muffin around a month ago, you couldn’t shake the sentiment off. Not only had you grown closer - bolder - in that time, you’d also adjusted your language accordingly. Angel made a regular appearance, if only to bring the dusty pink to his cheeks that you treasured.

“It’s nothing, you know that,” he insisted, that very same pink blooming up his neck as you basked in the glow, “Besides, you’d done half already.”

He was being ridiculously kind, because you’d be surprised if you’d made it a third of the way through. There was no use arguing it, because compliments were far from Spencer’s strong suit and you’d already got the upper hand using the word angel. Better to agree to disagree.

“Thank you anyway,” you decided would be a good compromise, and from the smile on his face as he stared up at you, it seemed he agreed. It was funny that agreeing to disagree with Spencer mostly just felt like being on the same book, same page, same line. Unfortunately, you couldn’t quite tell exactly which word he’d gotten to, because if you did, you might have kissed him a long time ago.

(and goodness had you thought about it enough times)

When he abruptly sat up from his place in your lap, you suppressed your whine of disapproval as best you could, but there was still a small noise of disappointment that you couldn’t contain. He smiled at the sound, face the right way up now with lines and grooves in all the right places, around his eyes, his mouth, his cheeks. Smile lines are notoriously pretty on people whose smiles are the highlight of your very existence.

“I’m not as comfy as you thought, hm?” you teased, mainly to prevent him from seeing any of the hurt shining in your eyes. He saw it anyway.

“Nope,” he said easily, already sliding all the way over to the other side of the sofa, each inch of distance deepening your frown, “Now I, on the other hand, have it on far better authority that I provide a comfortable lap experience.”

“And whose authority would that be?”

“Henry, of course, and I know you trust his judgement above all others. Come on.”

He actually patted his lap and the swooping of your chest was enough to make you slightly lightheaded.

“Are you sure?”

He gave you a withering look that gave you no choice but to scoot over towards him. Lying down, you mirrored his previous position as your head came to tentatively rest in the little dip between his thighs, as near to his knees as you could get without becoming uncomfortable. He was unspeakably warm and it seeped into your very soul.

“Better?”

“You’re not that comfy.”

A lie. Blatant to both parties as you snuggled into him a little more, allowing his leg to take the weight of your neck. Before you knew it, his hand was resting in your hair too and even though you knew it wasn’t as soft as his, you hoped it was enough. It didn’t move, save for the sporadic slow sweep of his thumb through the strands, but it didn’t matter. He was always more than enough, after all.

“Sleep. I’ll wake you when we land.”

His words were an exact repeat of your own. There was no chance of a long sleep, not with your nerve endings flaring at each and every point of contact between the two of you, but there was also no use arguing. Rest, in place of sleep, was better than nothing. You smiled up at him one last time before closing your eyes, drifting into a half-slumber that consisted mostly of vague musings about the individual notes of his cologne.

Occasionally, when you simply couldn’t help yourself, you’d open one eye, maybe even two, and peek up at him. He looked ethereal, even from this angle. It was likely a matter of perspective.

(it just so happened that spencer thought you looked positively celestial from all twenty seven of the angles he had painstakingly catalogued into his memory. that was likely a matter of perspective too)

---

if you made it this far, thank you for reading! i’m not currently tagging people, since i was away for a while and i don’t want to tag people who are no longer interested - if you would like to be tagged in my fics from now on, send in an ask and i can add you to a main taglist or a character-specific one <3

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Booster

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Han and Fem!Reader x Bang Chan

Warnings: language, explicit smut, cheating, indecent affairs, very rich Bang Chan who can be exceedingly arrogant, mentions of alcohol and smoking; aged up characters (especially Chan)

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Marriage AU; Romance AU; Indecent Proposal AU

Summary: You love your husband more than anything else in the world, but the two of you have been arguing lately about your struggling financial situation. Things seem bleak until one night when your husband’s new boss makes you both an offer that you can’t afford to refuse.

A/N: If you’ve seen the movie “Indecent Proposal,” then you know how this goes, but I put my own little spin on the classic! Please enjoy!!

“Are you happy, Y/N?”

It was a deceiving question, basic in its premise and expectation, but you couldn’t help but falter at the unexpected doubt coloring your vision.

“I guess,” you said.

But why shouldn’t you be? You were in your prime, employed as a freelance writer, and married to your high school sweetheart,

Oh, wait...How could you forget?

You were also preparing to turn thirty-years-old in less than a week, your job wasn’t delivering stable work, and you and your husband had been arguing about the single-digit amount of savings in your join account since last year.

“That’s good to hear,” your therapist said, and you nodded even though it felt misplaced.

You both knew that it was bullshit, but since this was the last session you could afford together, your therapist was clearly trying to use up the rest of your time to her advantage. Maybe it was for the best since you hated seeing her face every Sunday afternoon. 

“Jisung and I are going to Vegas with his company,” you said, startling yourself with the unexpected confession.

“That’s interesting,” your therapist said, leaving the “considering how bad off the two of you are” to fill the empty silence. “I hope you have fun. Take some time to reconnect with him.”

Because surely she had heard enough of you complaining about how your husband could turn into the world’s biggest asshole sometimes when things weren’t going his way. Or when the easy parts of your personal life were feeling far too stressful to be considered healthy. “It’s nice to get away,” you decided to say in place of anything less amiable.

“Feel free to reach out if you ever need me,” your therapist continued, offering you her business card.

“Thanks,” you said, taking it from her with a sigh. “I guess that’s it then.”

“For now,” your therapist agreed, and you left the sterile-white building feeling more burdened than when you had arrived.

It was late when you got home, and you were even more exhausted than usual, laying next to Jisung in bed as soon as you had changed into comfortable night clothes.

“Do you want to fuck?” Jisung asked later on, taking off his reading glasses to look over at you as you concentrated hard on balancing next month’s budget, including all the money you had put aside for Jisung’s company retreat.

“Not right now,” you said.

“Whatever,” Jisung grumbled, and you ignored the pain in your heart as he turned around to face away from you, turning off his lamp to bathe half of the room in darkness.

“This is too important,” you tried to argue, but Jisung wasn’t listening, and it didn’t take long for him to start snoring.

But he never understood.

“Asshole,” you whispered, gathering your things to settle down in the living room instead. Where you continued working through the night, eyes glossing over from focusing on the numbers for too long, and you were drained the next morning, barely even comprehending Jisung leaving the house for work until you heard the car’s ignition from outside.

It was somewhat of a routine at this point, and you could feel the strain in your marriage, the distance between you and Jisung increasing the longer things continued to grow worse.

Your therapist would tell you to talk things out with him, but you really didn’t feel like arguing with your husband anymore. Instead, you pushed him out of your head and slept for a few more hours before getting up to start your freelance projects. It wasn’t anything difficult, and you finished most of the work by noon, leaving you to clean the house and wait by the phone in case a potential client called you with an assignment.

But the problem was the phone never rang, and you were hardly getting any work to support your shared household income.

It was a frequent point of contention, and Jisung had been begging you to take on a full-time position for months.

Maybe you should. 

Maybe it would make him happier.

But why did it feel like his happiness was always prioritized over your own?

Damn, you were starting to sound just like your former therapist.

“I made dinner,” you told him when he got home that evening, and even though it was obvious that he was wore-out, Jisung met you in the kitchen with a forced smile.

“It smells good,” he said, and there was a longing in his eyes, one that you also shared but could never fulfill.

And no amount of sex ever made it any better, but that sure as hell didn’t stop the two of you from trying to use it as an excuse to pretend that the problem didn’t exist elsewhere. “Shit, Sungie,” you gasped, nails digging into the smooth skin of his back as he fucked you on top of the counter, legs spread wide around his waist as he pummeled his hips into yours.

“Yes!” Jisung moaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head as your tight walls constricted around his length - pure, velvet warmth. “God, you’re perfect.”

“Harder!” you cried, trying to meet each of his thrusts, but finding it impossible to touch his animalistic pace, brutally stretching your pussy around him. The good kind of stretch that left you gaping long after you both came, lingering throughout the night and well into the morning as you limped around the house.

It ached and hurt, persistent and demanding, but there was always a desire for more, even when it was impossible to fulfill those empty places. But that didn’t stop you from trying, winding your fingers through Jisung’s hair to pull him closer, smashing your mouths together for a brutal kiss that only served to stoke the flames of passion sparking between the two of you. Something hot and raunchy, delicious in the exchanges of precious oxygen and the thin cord of saliva that remained when Jisung pulled back to look at you. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, parting your thighs around his hips as he studied the place where he was driving his cock between the delicate folds of your swollen labia. “Look at how well you take me.”

“Please,” you whimpered, unsure as to what you wanted from him, but it was always too much and never enough. 

“I want you to come first,” Jisung said, sucking the pad of his thumb into his mouth before bringing it down against your clit. 

“Oh!” you gasped because the secondary stimulation was proving to be the necessary catalyst to unwind you from the inside, and you could feel your orgasm growing stronger by the second. 

“That’s it, baby,” Jisung groaned, throwing back his head as he worked on moving his hips faster, thrusting his erection with as much power as he could manage while focusing on digging harsh circles against the tight little bud between your legs.

“Coming!” you cried, closing your eyes against the first wave of pleasure, moaning when Jisung lifted your legs higher around his waist, slamming his cock between your pulsating walls. 

It was a divine high, the kind that left a deep impression, riding the euphoria of your orgasm until you could feel your heart practically vibrating against your chest, leaving you breathless and throbbing in the place where Jisung continued to grind his cock. “I’m close,” he said, grunting as his hips stuttered in place, and you watched him fall over you as a familiar warmth escaped from where his cock was softening.

“S’ good,” you managed around a deep breath, trying to bring yourself back to Earth.

“You’re always so good for me,” Jisung said, eyes glossy with lust as he parted your lips around his fingers.

You puckered your lips, sucking hard and leaving him groaning. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

“I know, Y/N, and I love you,” Jisung said, holding himself up while panting over you, eyes dark and devoted.

“I love you too,” you replied on instinct, keeping him close while the two of you basked in the afterglow of your passionate lovemaking.

One Week Later

It was raining at the airport, but you were in a good mood while following Jisung through the crowded terminal. “Are you excited?” he asked you once you stood in line to board the plane.

“Of course,” you replied, accepting his gentle kiss before he held out your tickets for the flight attendant.

But why shouldn’t you be? You had never been to Vegas before, and you were beyond excited for the trip, even if it had been painful to budget with your lousy combined incomes. 

“I’m gonna treat you so good, baby,” Jisung whispered to you on the plane, finalizing his promise with another heart-stopping kiss.

“I love you,” you said, smiling when you heard the words in return.

It was always a promise that you could both keep, no matter how hard things got in your lives, and you could always rely on Jisung even when your own mind turned against you. Sure, it would be nice to have more financial stability, but the two of you would eventually achieve that goal, just as long as you kept working hard.

The idea of being happy all the time seemed impossible, and you were grateful for what you had, holding tightly to Jisung’s hand as he hailed down a taxi cab to take you to your hotel upon your arrival in Vegas.

“A couple’s retreat?” the driver asked when you were both settled inside.

“Something like that,” Jisung agreed, and it was half-way true, even if Jisung’s company was the main reason you were both enjoying the unfamiliar sights of the Vegas strip - blinding lights, crowded streets, and loud music. Everything was organized chaos, and you could see why so many people loved it.

“It’s beautiful,” you said to Jisung when your taxi cab arrived at your hotel.

“What do you want to do first?” Jisung asked, taking both of your suitcases as you led the way to check-in.

“Do you have to meet with your co-workers?” you asked, reminding yourself that this trip had a larger reason behind it.

“Not until the morning,” Jisung laughed, and he signed the copy of the room notice before dragging you to the elevators. “It’s you and me tonight, baby. Wanna check out the poker tables?”

You rolled your eyes because you both knew that Jisung had no idea how to play cards. “Looking around sounds nice.”

“Whatever you want,” Jisung promised, and after your things were settled in your lavish suite, he made good on escorting you around the impressive gambling floor - nothing but slot machines with bright color sequences and a vast expanse of tables with every kind of game you could want. 

It was almost too much to look at, and you were grateful to focus on one thing when Jisung paused next to the craps table. “Do you want to try?” you asked, smirking at the curious look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, giving you a quick kiss before exchanging a twenty for some chips. “I’ll put it all on Pass.”

“Pass!” the dealer said, dragging Jisung’s chips closer. “Your roll.”

Jisung grabbed the dice from the table, bringing them closer to you with a smirk. “Kiss for good luck?”

You rolled your eyes, but entertained his request, brushing your lips against his knuckles before pulling back and watching him flick his wrist as the dice bounced across the table. “Seven!” the dealer announced, and you and Jisung were both surprised to win, watching as two piles of chips were pushed in your direction. 

“Holy shit!” you gasped, and Jisung nodded his agreement, taking all the chips before bidding the dealer a good night. “Did you see that?” you asked, unable to stop yourself from giggling as Jisung pocketed the chips. 

“I guess I have enough to treat you to a drink,” he said, and you followed him to the bar where he ordered you both something strong.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” you asked him, feeling far more jubilant than before as you downed most of the contents, wincing at the sting.

“You need to loosen up,” Jisung said. “I know you’ve been planning for the trip, so I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Cheers to that!” you said, tapping your glass against Jisung’s and enjoying the rest of your drink.

And for a while, you actually found yourself letting go of all the worries leading up to the vacation, drinking and laughing with your husband as you played on some of the slot machines and observed some of the more serious poker games. 

The alcohol sat pleasantly on your stomach, and you were losing yourself to the buzz dulling most of your anxieties. “Jisung,” you said at one point, leaning closer to him as you sat together outside by the pool. “You look really good tonight.”

Jisung smiled, bringing you in for a kiss that turned heated despite the people surrounding you. “Slow down, baby,” Jisung said, breaking your exchange and ignoring your pout.

“Let’s go to the room,” you said, lowering your tone as you trailed one finger down his toned arm.

“Maybe later,” Jisung said, but he dangled the key in front of you. “If you want, then you can go upstairs.”

“You don’t want to come?” you asked with a pout.

“I’ve been watching,” Jisung admitted with a shrug. “I know we’ve been having a lot of problems with money, but I think I can take what we brought and turn it into enough to end most of our debt.”

“Jisung,” you said, sobering up in an instant. “What if you lose?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, and you could tell that he had already made up his mind. “I know when to stop.”

“Okay,” you agreed, but it was a reluctant acquiescence because you wanted nothing more than to have him in your arms. “I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun, baby,” Jisung said, and you frowned when he slid you his credit card. “Call room service and take care of yourself.”

“Sure,” you agreed, pocketing the card since you had no intention of using it. “Call me if you need anything.”

Jisung nodded, waving you off as he rose from his chair, and you watched with an overhanging sense of dread as he rejoined the crowded gambling room.

You waited for as long as you could, but midnight trickled by with no sign of your husband returning to the room.

Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep from the excitement, and you only woke-up again the next morning when you attempted to reach out for Jisung in bed next to you, only to discover empty space.

“Sungie?” you said, filling the empty room with your voice.

But you could’ve sworn you had heard the door open at one point, so you dressed yourself and ventured out of the bedroom.

Your Vegas suite was fairly large, and the bedroom was connected to the main room by a narrow hallway with another room on the opposite end. Maybe Jisung had slept in the wrong room on accident?

It seemed plausible, until you heard the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen, and you quickly followed the noises to find your husband bent over the counter, head hanging low.

“Jisung, what’s wrong?” you asked, approaching your husband to soothe a hand down his back.

But you were completely unprepared for the way he began to lash out.

“I lost it, okay?” he snapped, jerking himself into an upright stance. “All the money we brought, I blew it on the slot machines.”

“Jisung-”

“Fuck, I can’t believe it!” Jisung shouted, interrupting your attempt to speak. “I was doing so well, and I didn’t even realize things were going bad until I almost used our bank card to pull out more money.”

You exhaled harshly, realizing that if Jisung had spent all of your money, then he also accessed some of your savings since you had brought extra cash in case of an emergency. “Oh my god.”

You stumbled back against the wall, holding your chest because you could feel the start of a panic attack taking root. But how else were you supposed to react to Jisung’s confession? He had spent all the money you would both need to pay rent and buy important necessities.

“This is so screwed up,” Jisung growled, rubbing a rough hand across his disheveled face. 

“That was everything,” you said, swallowing hard as your detail-oriented brain attempted to come up with an alternative, but you saw no light on the other end.

“Y/N,” Jisung said, and his voice was calmer as he looked at you. “I’m so sorry. I thought I could make things better.”

“But you made them worse,” you said, closing your eyes against an onslaught of tears, feeling as if your entire world was crashing down around you.

“Baby, no,” Jisung said, hurrying over to catch you before your body crumbled to the floor. “We’ll be okay, you know? I can always take out a loan.”

“To pay for the other loans?” you asked in a much harsher tone that you usually reserved for your husband.

“I promise I’ll make it better,” Jisung said, and he groaned when his phone started ringing. “It’s my boss again. He wanted to meet me in his room this morning.”

Jisung silenced the call, holding your face between his hands. “I promise nothing bad will happen to us, and maybe I can ask my boss for an advance on my next paycheck to help cover expenses.”

Your brain knew better than that, understanding that one paycheck wouldn’t cover those lost savings, but this was Jisung. Your sweet and kind husband, and you didn’t feel like arguing. “Okay,” you said, accepting the gentle kisses he pecked along your wet lashes.

“We’ll figure this out,” Jisung said. “But let’s not worry about it until we get back home. Can you put some clothes on for me, baby? I want you to come meet my boss with me.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding your head as you allowed Jisung to lead you both back into the bedroom.

“Everything will be fine,” Jisung said, and you allowed him to delude your mind even though nothing could be further from the truth.

Jisung’s boss was a powerful man named Mr. Bang, and his net-worth made Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk pale in comparison.

You were nervous to meet him, and it didn’t help that you were still upset from earlier.

“Deep breaths,” Jisung instructed you when he knocked on Mr. Bang’s door. “Don’t worry about anything.”

It was easy for him to say since everything was his fault, but you swallowed down your anger and pasted on your best smile when the door opened - revealing an older gentleman with dark brown hair and eyes, wrinkles edging some of the corners of his features, exposing the effects of age.

But he was still undeniably handsome, and his eyes took a long moment to gloss over you. “Mr. Han,” Mr. Bang said, finally looking away from you. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Of course, sir,” Jisung said, placing his hand on your lower back as you were both invited inside. “It’s been a rough morning.”

“Oh?” Mr. Bang questioned, following you both into the main room. “Why is that?”

You held your breath when Jisung hesitated. “Just some money stuff.”

“Ah,” Mr. Bang acknowledged. “It’s personal.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Jisung insisted, and Mr. Bang shrugged off his coat as he accepted the reassurance, reaching for a pack of cigars.

“Well, I’m excited to talk with you this morning. Would you both like to join me in the other room? I heard that Jisung enjoys playing pool.”

“Absolutely,” Jisung agreed with a smile - one that managed to disguise all the horrible realities that existed outside of this impeccable suite.

You took another deep breath, fixing a smile in place when Mr. Bang turned to look at you. “This must be your wife.”

“Y/N,” you said, holding out your hand for him, and trying not to feel disconcerted by the obvious interest in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he repeated, looking back ahead of himself as he brought you both into a far simpler room - sparsely furnished with the exception of the pool table in the middle of the area. “Do either of you mind if I smoke? It’s a bad habit.”

He chuckled at the end, waiting for your combined approval before lighting one of the cigars and bringing it to his lips.

“You’re welcome to go first,” Mr. Bang said, selecting one of the pool sticks against the wall. “I’d love to be informal with you.”

“That sounds great,” Jisung said, and you watched him bend over the table as he broke the balls at the center, sending them flying in all directions. “I was really honored to receive your invitation.”

“Were you?” Mr. Bang asked with a smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“You’re a bit of an enigma around the office, Mr. Bang,” Jisung said, and his boss chuckled in response.

“Please, call me Chan,” he continued, taking his turn at the table after Jisung missed his shot, cigar dangling from his lips. “How are you both enjoying Vegas?”

“I think we’re having a lot of fun,” Jisung said, and the response irritated you a little as you cleared your throat, nose wrinkling as some of the cigar smoke reached you.

“It’s quite beautiful,” you said, and Chan found your eyes after landing his first shot.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed. “You know, Jisung, you talk about me being an enigma around the office. Why is that?”

You flinched at the sound of the balls smashing together, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you focused on your husband. “Well,” Jisung shrugged. “I think it’s because you have so much more than the rest of us. Not that it’s a bad thing.” 

“Really?” Chan asked, standing up straight as he shot you a knowing look. “You do have something that I don’t have.”

You found yourself blushing at the comment, and Jisung studied his boss with narrowed eyes. “I guess there’s a limit to what money can buy.”

“Not mine,” Chan said, putting out the cigar with a satisfied smirk. “I can afford anything.”

You didn’t like his attitude, finding yourself jumping into the conversation without being provoked. “Some things aren’t for sale,” you said, watching as Chan bent over the pool table once again.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Well, you can’t buy people,” you said, and he stood tall again with a sigh.

“That’s naïve of you, Y/N,” he said. “I buy people everyday.”

“I don’t mean in business,” you argued. “I meant something more like...when your emotions are involved.”

“So, you can’t buy someone’s love?” Chan questioned, and you didn’t like the way he was laughing. “Jisung, I hope you don’t feel the same way.”

“Of course,” Jisung said, shaking his head. “I agree with Y/N.”

“Really?” Chan smiled. “Then, maybe we should put that to the test.”

“What do you mean?” Jisung asked, and he exchanged a quick look with you - one filled with uncertainty.

“How much?” Mr. Bang asked.

“How much?” Jisung repeated, and he studied his boss with a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

Mr. Bang chuckled, and you frowned at the obvious condescension. “I mean, how much for one night with your wife?”

“Oh...” Jisung trailed off, and the room quickly filled with silence - awkward and heavy.

“Why so tense?” Chan eventually asked, and you shook your head because he knew exactly why the two of you were suddenly less than enthusiastic.

“You can’t be serious,” Jisung eventually said, reaction surprisingly neutral.

“I’m completely serious,” Chan continued, never breaking a sweat as he continued to take his turn at the pool table. “I’ll give you $1,000,000 dollars,” Chan said. “That would be enough to keep you in a life of luxury.”

“Sir,” Jisung said, and you could tell that he was caught off-guard, trying to find the right words to prevent offense to his boss, but you didn’t have to extend the same courtesy.

“No,” you said, keeping your tone firm. “He would tell you to go to hell.”

“I didn’t hear that from him,” Chan said, and you fixed Jisung with the sternest glare you could manage.

“Yeah,” Jisung said. “I’d tell you to go to hell.”

Chan sighed, pocketing the coveted eight ball with a quick motion. “I guess that proves me wrong, then,” Chan said. “But I’ll at least say this: $1,000,000 dollars is a lifetime of security. Think about it, talk it over first, and then you can forget all about this conversation.”

It should’ve been over after that without any further consideration, but you were disappointed to see that Jisung was still distracted as you sat together in your room later that night - long after leaving Chan’s suite.

“You’re still thinking about it,” you said, drawing his attention.

“Of course not, baby,” he said, but it wasn’t convincing.

“Would you seriously be okay with me spending the night with some pompous billionaire? you huffed. “He would obviously want to fuck me.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame him,” Jisung tried to joke, but the situation was far too serious.

“Sungie...”

“Look, I get it, Y/N. Marriage is sacred, and I respect you for that, but we both can’t ignore how much this would change our lives! It’s a million fucking dollars.”

“He’s an old perv,” you growled. “Would you seriously sell me out?”

“That’s not what this is,” Jisung argued. “I’m not selling you out.”

“Sleeping with a stranger for a million dollars is selling me out,” you said. “I don’t even like him...”

“It’s fine,” Jisung interrupted. “It was just a made-up scenario, and I would never force you to do anything.”

“Good,” you said, turning on your side to switch off the lamp. “He can’t just expect that from someone. It’s crazy!”

“I know, baby,” Jisung whispered quietly to you, and you knew that you were both exhausted from the chaos of your day together.

Sleep was what you needed, but it wasn’t coming. 

Instead, you were loathe to admit that your mind had returned to that indecent proposal from Jisung’s boss, thinking about the last thing he said.

One lifetime of security.

You would never have to worry about money again...but what about your relationship? Would it suffer because of such an illicit affair?

You tossed and turned all night, feeling Jisung do the same thing.

Think about it.

God, that’s all you were doing, and when the sun was starting to rise again from the coverage of your blinds, you rolled over to look at Jisung, unsurprised to see him wide-awake. “If we do this,” you said, “it wouldn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not,” Jisung said. “It would still be the two of us against the rest of the world.”

You nodded, studying the gentle brown of Jisung’s eyes. The weight of such a consequential decision hung over both of your heads, and you sucked up every last ounce of pride you had when you came to a conclusion: “Call him,” you said, and Jisung’s eyes widened. “Tell him we’ll take the money.”

“Y/N, are you sure?” Jisung asked, and he was cautiously reaching out for his cellphone.

“I’m sure,” you said, although you didn’t feel as confident as you would like, turning onto your back to study the ceiling overhead.

The date and time were arranged for the following evening, and you could barely meet Chan’s gaze when he met you outside his suite.

“Just relax,” he whispered to you, inviting you outside onto the extended balcony attached to his penthouse where he proceeded to pour two glasses of champagne.

The cold air of the night hit you in the face like a firm slap, forcing you from the haze you had surrendered to when you first walked into the room. A wake-up call that this was happening, and the man next to you was not your husband.

You nearly drained your first glass of champagne, feeling the alcohol give you some much-needed courage. “Y/N,” Chan said, standing next to you in a suit that likely cost more than your and Jisung’s last paychecks combined. “I want to ask you what your expectations are of this evening.”

You shrugged, staring out over the bannister. “I thought we were just gonna fuck,” you replied, even if the words were a little crude.

Chan laughed at your comment. “Is that so?”

“I don’t see what’s funny,” you said. “You’re the one who has to buy women.”

“You think I have to buy women?” Chan asked. “Because that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

You hesitated, sensing him growing closer. “Why me, then?”

“I bought you because you said you couldn’t be bought,” Chan replied, stepping closer to drop his hand on top of yours.

“I can’t be bought,” you argued, even though everything leading up to this moment was proving the contrary.

“Really?” he asked, and you begrudgingly shook your head.

“I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

“You might enjoy yourself,” Chan said with a seductive smirk. “This isn’t meant to be a punishment.”

“I know that,” you said, holding your breath when his lips touched the shell of your ear.

“Damn, you’re unbelievably gorgeous,” Chan said, and his free hand was trailing down your spine. “Come with me into the bedroom.”

You gave him a shaky nod, following him back inside while taking in several deep breaths as you greeted the darkness of the room, discarding your champagne on the side table. “What now?”

“Take off your dress,” Chan said, and you squinted your eyes to see him falling down into one of the chairs.

Despite the cold air of the night, everything inside was heating up again.

“Okay,” you whispered, reaching back for your zipper, and holding it between trembling fingers as you unhitched the material, allowing it to fall down your body like an avalanche of blue as it pooled around your ankles.

You heard Chan’s sharp intake of breath, feeling his eyes trail over every inch of your lingerie-clad form. “Get on the bed,” he said, and you obeyed at once, trying to make yourself comfortable on top of the mattress.

But it was hard when you noticed Chan approaching the bedside, removing his jacket and shirt to reveal a lean, muscular torso - one that had undoubtedly been built after long hours in the gym. “This is my favorite part,” Chan said, shoving down his jeans and boxers without shame, and his cock sprang up against his abdomen with an impressive girth. “I like to see the way a woman’s eyes look at me. How their breath hitches when I touch them for the first time.”

He followed through on his promise, sliding his fingers down the smooth skin of your stomach with a feather-like touch before they paused at the waistband of your panties. “Take these off,” he said, and you did your best to wrangle off the flimsy fabric, pushing it aside with your toes as Chan’s eyes zeroed in on your delicate mound. “When I fuck a woman, I make sure she comes...several times.”

You shivered at that, hearing his tone grow huskier as he instructed you to open your thighs, giving himself enough room to crawl on the bed and settle down between your open legs. It was already so revealing, and you couldn’t believe you were in this position, exposing everything to him. “Do you use protection?” he asked, and you nodded. “I’d like to fuck you raw, but only with your consent.”

You nodded again, gasping when his long, thin fingers started to carefully penetrate you, scissoring around your entrance - teasing curls that did nothing but trigger your body’s instinctual arousal. Especially as the room around you continued to grow warmer, almost as hot as Chan’s lips as they scalded your skin, lifting one of your legs higher against his arm.

“You deserve to be worshipped,” Chan whispered against your thigh. “If I had a woman like you, I’d do my best to make you happy.”

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but curse, feeling him use his other hand to start moving his fingers even faster, gliding them against the greedy walls of your pussy as your body demanded you for more of the sweet addiction.

There was already a light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, and your heart was beating faster and faster, matching the pace of his fingers. Eventually, he leaned down to take your clit between his lips, dropping your thigh back onto the mattress before sucking hard and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. 

You gasped, hips arching without your approval, grinding closer to the source of that immeasurable pleasure. It was wet and sensual, creating the gentlest of sensations that traveled all the way to your toes.

You could feel Chan smirking, lips barely touching your clit before he properly opened his mouth wide to lave his tongue across the throbbing area. It felt so good, and you were practically humping his face to gain more of his delicious mouth.

He was learning your signs, hands holding your waist as he listened to every hitch of your breath, knowing when to speed up and slow down. It was like a well-rehearsed dance, swipes of his tongue across your folds, pressing firmly against your clit when he returned to the delicate organ. 

It felt like pure heaven, bringing you higher and higher to a much-needed release, and it had been a long time since a man had made you experience such white hot lust from just his tongue.

“Cum for me,” Chan whispered, and he nipped at your clit, and the tinge of pain was enough to send you spiraling into your first orgasm of the night.

“Oh!” you groaned, grabbing his hair to pull him back when his sucking was starting to feel too painful right after coming so hard.

“What a good girl,” Chan said, looking down at you with a sheen of arousal coating his lips. 

It was obscene, forcing you to close your eyes against the image, but you cried out when he pinched one of your nipples, causing you to open them again. 

“Do me a favor and look at me while I’m fucking you, Y/N,” Chan murmured, hooded gaze meeting your struggling one - trying not to succumb to his advances, even though he was making it incredibly hard, wrist almost imperceptible with the way he was stretching you open again, pussy gaping as you felt yourself leaking uncontrollably.

“I’ll try,” you whispered, heart thundering against your chest as Chan removed his fingers only to align his cock with your entrance, dipping just the tip into your eager heat.

“Moan for me as much as you want,” Chan said, and he was bottoming out without hesitation, moving slow to prevent any pain while you got used to the stretch.

It was different from how Jisung fucked you, thrusting into you impossibly fast from the very first moment he impaled you on his cock. 

There was something caring about it, and you adjusted quickly to Chan’s girth, grinding your hips subtly just to feel very inch of his generous erection. “Good girl,” Chan cooed, and he brought his cock to a deeper roll, moving back to leave only the head before forcing himself inside once again, picking up speed as your moans continued to grow louder in volume, signaling your approach to a second release.

It was beyond amazing, and you swallowed down your embarrassment from the noises he was punching from your lungs, opening your eyes as he started to move even faster, thrusting his cock between your legs at a rhythmic pace.

He was hitting your g-spot on every deep penetration, granulating in and out at a steady pace that was so unbelievably fulfilling.

You never expected it feel this good, slick from your pussy gushing at an embarrassing rate, creating an even smoother slide. But the squelching sounds were incredibly loud, filling your ears just like his cock was filling your cunt...the best kind of fullness.

You were being stroked just right, moaning when Chan shifted his hips to thrust into you at a new angle, holding your legs over his shoulders as he practically bent you in half.

His lips were warm when they connected with yours, and there was a strange desire to sink into the kiss and lose yourself there forever. But your pussy was throbbing with need - an impossible want for the man reaching all the way to your cervix.

It felt amazing when his fingers brushed across your sensitive clit, rubbing generous circles against the tight nub. He started snapping his hips at a faster rate, slapping against your hips with every thrust, holding onto your hips with a bruising grip that would leave reminders of him for days. 

But maybe that was his intention.

Chan growled, plunging into your sore cunt time and time again. He was practically pounding you with how hard he was going, like he was trying to prove a point, and maybe he wanted to since nothing could have ever prepared you for how euphoric his cock was making you feel.

“Are you gonna cum again?” Chan whispered, gazing so fondly into your eyes.

You couldn’t speak, only managing a nod when he started to rub even faster at your clit, and you let out the loudest moan of the night when you were unraveling yet again, sinking into a third orgasm that left you drained.

It was a rollercoaster of overstimulation, and Chan realized this and gave a few stuttered kicks of his hips before he was filling you up with his cum, groaning and grunting as he leaned over you.

Your legs were numb from being spread wide for so long, and you weren’t sure that you would ever catch your breath, listening to the sound of Chan whispering sweet endearments from next to you as you realized that nothing would ever be same after this.

The next morning, you woke-up alone, but there was a note waiting for you on the nightstand.

Y/N,

Join us in the kitchen when you’re ready.

- Chan

“Us?” you repeated aloud, feeling a sense of dread as you stumbled on weak legs to gather your clothes.

You were incredibly sore between your legs, a reminder that last night actually happened, and you had slept with your husband’s boss for a big paycheck.

“It’s worth it,” you tried to reassure yourself, walking from the bedroom and into the kitchen with a subtle limp. “Nothing will change.”

But hindsight is 20/20, and you can’t predict the future. Still, your first sign should’ve been the strange image of Chan and Jisung sitting together in the kitchen, like they were having a casual breakfast together,

“There you are!” Chan greeted you upon your arrival, but you barely paid him any attention, eyes immediately finding Jisung’s.

Your husband was sitting next to Chan at the table, and there was a buffet of food displayed on elegant kitchenware. “What’s going on?”

“Breakfast,” Chan said, indicating towards the empty chair next to Jisung. “Please join us.”

You nodded, finally breaking your intense stare-down with Jisung to carefully sit down next to him.

Suddenly, it was difficult to acknowledge his presence, memories of last night resurfacing and causing you to blush at the obscene images. “I hope you slept well,” Chan said, and his plate was completely covered as he ate without a single care in the world. “Last night...it was amazing, Y/N.”

You could feel Jisung shift from next to you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look at him. “Chan-”

“As promised,” Chan interrupted as he reached into the pocket of his expensive suite jacket, producing a thin slip of paper, and he slid the check in Jisung’s direction. “Thank you both for everything.”

“Sure,” Jisung said, and his tone was short as he grabbed the check and immediately stood from the table. “We should get going.”

“So soon?” Chan questioned, mouth stuffed impossibly full. “You’re more than welcome to anything you want.”

“We’re fine,” Jisung insisted, and he took your hand with a firm grip. “I know you’ll understand, Mr. Bang.”

“Ah!” Chan grinned. “Formalities again?”

But Jisung ignored him, turning to look at you with a gleam in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher. “Let’s go home,” Jisung said, and he tried for a smile which you couldn’t match as he led the two of you as far from Bang Chan as you could manage.

Tragically, your return home was nothing triumphant, and it should’ve felt so good to finally pay off so many bills and debts.

But it didn’t.

Everything felt hollow inside.

You also couldn’t help but notice that it was becoming increasingly difficult to talk to Jisung. Because every time you looked into his eyes, you were reminded of your impassioned affair in Vegas. It wasn’t fair to either of you, but you had no idea how to fix your relationship.

How could this be fair? You no longer had money problems forcing that divide between the two of you? In fact, you had no problems at all, and you were both entertaining the idea of moving into a bigger place and quitting your jobs.

So, what was missing? What was wrong with the way things were now that your joint account was filled to the maximum?

The answer was obvious, but you both refused to talk about it, and every second spent in each other’s company only served to carve an even deeper rift. Something so painful that you could barely share the same bed as your husband.

You couldn’t believe that things were so bad, even a month after your night with Chan, and nothing was going right. But what could you do? There was no easy solution, and it certainly didn’t help when you received a phone call from an unknown number one morning, accepting it with hesitation, only to be greeted with a strikingly familiar tone: “Hello, Y/N,” Chan said from the other end, and you immediately sat down on the edge of your bed.

“Chan?”

“How are you?” Chan asked with a pleasant tone. “I thought I might check in on my favorite couple.”

You frowned at his mocking tone. “Thanks, but we’re fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that! And I hope the money goes a long way for you and Jisung,” Chan said, and you clenched the phone tighter between your hands.

“It’s been helpful,” you said, even though the words didn’t seem to match the life you were currently living.

“Well, I’m in town for lunch this afternoon,” Chan continued. “I thought it might be nice just to catch up with you. Would you care to join me?”

You hesitated, looking around your empty bedroom with desperate eyes. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea...”

“Oh, please it’s just one lunch,” Chan said, and it was almost impossible to resist him. But that must be why he was such a good businessman. “One lunch.”

You sighed, already feeling yourself giving in to him. “One lunch,” you agreed, parroting back the response because it felt like your body was moving on auto-pilot, having lost the familiar spark ever since you came back from Vegas.

Chan’s chosen location was a gorgeous downtown restaurant that had more Michelin stars than the places you sometimes watched on TV.

It was beyond elegant, and you found Chan waiting for you at the door after having a car bring you to him. “Good morning,” he said with a cheeky tone, meeting you halfway as he offered his arm to you - the perfect gentleman.

“This was unexpected,” you said, allowing him to escort you inside, greeting the man at the front who seemed to instantly recognize Chan, leading you both to a private room away from the others.

“I wanted to do this,” Chan said. “I thought we could talk a little.”

“Is that it?” you asked, taking the menu and gaping at the immense prices.

Chan seemed to notice, smiling at your awed expression. “Have anything you want,” Chan said. “I’m buying.”

“Oh, I can’t possibly let you do that...” you said because then it would feel like a date, and that was as far from what you wanted as possible.

“Don’t concern yourself,” Chan said. “Everything is good here, and you deserve it.”

You weren’t sure that you liked the sound of that, but you didn’t complain as you requested that he order something for both of you instead of trying to interpret the gauche-sounding entrees. 

“Now,” Chan said once your waiter left the room. “Let’s talk about you.”

“Me?” you questioned, sipping gingerly at your water glass. “What about me?”

“I want to know everything,” Chan said. “All of it.”

“Everything?” you repeated, shrugging as you blushed. “There’s not much to tell.”

“I can hardly believe that,” Chan said. “What about your job?”

“I’m a freelance writer,” you said, nodding when you realized that he was genuine. “Kinda hard in the city though.”

“But you’re doing what you love?” Chan asked, and he grinned at your confirmation. “Then that’s all that matters.”

Could it be so simple? you wondered, remembering all the countless arguments you and Jisung had shared because, according to him, your job was hardly considered career-worthy. “I love writing.”

“Then you must be a big reader,” Chan remarked. “All the best writers are.”

You swooned at his smooth conversation. “I have shelves full of the classics.”

“What’s your favorite?” Chan asked.

“Jane Eyre,” you admitted, and Chan raised a brow.

“I like that about you,” he said. “It fits: the idea of a bright young woman falling in love with the enigmatic billionaire.”

You met his gaze, recalling how Jisung had aligned the term “enigmatic” with Chan on the night you made your unholy deal. Was there a deeper meaning, then? “I love the prose,” you replied instead, thinking the subject might return to Chan. 

But it never did. In fact, Chan kept all the questions about you, engaging you in a way that you had never experienced with another man. Like he cared so much about the person underneath, and his probing gaze was seeing past the outside in a way that spoke to your very soul.

And you couldn’t help but compare him to Jisung: a very dangerous thing to do.

“That was nice,” you said after you had both eaten. “It was good to see you again.”

“I agree,” Chan said, ever the businessman as his hand fell low around your waist, taking you back outside the restaurant. “Should we make plans for tomorrow?”

You almost laughed, until you read his expression and realized that he was serious. “What?”

“Y/N,” Chan said, and his tone was intense. “I can’t stop thinking about Vegas.”

“Chan,” you whined, trying to pull away, but his hold was firm. 

“If you were with me,” Chan purred, and it was a lethal sound that was as smooth as the hand traveling up and down your back. “I could give you everything you wanted and more.”

“I can’t,” you insisted, and there was an image of Jisung in your head when you managed to escape him. “That was only one time.”

“I think you and I both know that it meant more than that,” Chan said, and you could deny it all you wanted, but there was an insistent throbbing at the back of your skull.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied, ignoring the scoff that escaped him while calling for the valet to bring the car Chan had organized for you.

“At least take my business card,” Chan said, and he was holding the small piece of printed paper out for you, but you knew that going down that path would only make things worse.

“I can’t accept it,” you said, returning your attention to the valet as he opened the back door.

“That’s a shame,” Chan said, but he was as persistent as ever, leaning close to press a kiss across your cheek. “You can always call me. If you ever need anything.”

You nodded, feeling somewhat disoriented as you sat down against the leather seat, swallowing hard when you could still see Chan from the rearview mirror.

By the time you returned home, it was already late, and you were glad to see Jisung when you sat your purse down onto the counter. “Hey,” you said, and Jisung glanced up from where he was reading the newspaper.

“Hey,” he replied. “How was lunch?”

You swallowed hard because you hadn’t told Jisung who you ate lunch with. “It was good.”

He nodded - a short dismissal, and it you decided to freshen up in the bathroom, taking a quick shower just to wash off the lingering traces of Chan.

But maybe it was foolish to think that water could wash away everything that had happened - those traces would never simply vanish.

When you walked back out into the main room, you were stunned to see Jisung putting on his coat. “Jisung,” you said, watching your husband rush around the living room. “Are you busy?”

“Just gong to meet some friends,” Jisung replied. 

Distracted. Uninterested in you.

“Oh,” you said. “I thought we could spend some time together?”

“Yeah?” Jisung snorted, and you were shocked to hear him sound so abrasive...at least until he marched up to you waving around a business card. “And what the fuck is this, huh? I found it in your bag.”

He flung the card at you, and you sighed when you saw Chan’s name at the top - he must’ve snuck the card into your purse when you weren’t looking. “It’s nothing,” you said, but Jisung only laughed - a sound devoid of all humor. “Why the fuck are you going through my things?”

“Does it matter?” he huffed. “You can’t get enough of him, can you?” he asked, and you were like a tea kettle that had been sitting on the burner for way too long - practically erupting from the top.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think?” Jisung smarted back. “You’re obviously still seeing him, spreading your legs for his cock like a bitch in heat. I guess one night wasn’t enough for you.”

“How dare you!” you yelled, getting right in Jisung’s face. “You want to know what happened? He slipped the card into my purse when I met him for lunch today, but I had never even spoken to him until then.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Jisung spat, narrowing his eyes. “You’re a fucking whore, Y/N. Throwing yourself at a rich man like Bang Chan just because he can buy you nice stuff.”

“What’s money got to do with anything?”

“It obviously means everything!” Jisung shouted. “It’s what got us into this fucking mess into the first place.”

“You mean, the mess you made when you gambled all our money away?” 

“Are you really going to throw that back in my face?” Jisung seethed. “I was trying to make things better for us!”

“Good job,” you snickered. “Since we’re so fucking happy together.”

“What do you want from me?” Jisung asked, throwing up his arms. “I’m obviously the biggest asshole in the world.”

“I’m glad you can admit it,” you said. “Did you ever stop to think that all that I’ve done up to this point has been for you?”

Jisung paused, opening his mouth to retaliate, but then wisely deciding to let you continue. “Did I want to go to Vegas?” you asked. “No, but I went because you wanted to impress your company, and I know you wanted to do things right, but we should’ve both known better than to bet against the house. We lost everything, and in that moment of desperation, you pressured me into sleeping with another man, and I can’t think about anything else but him whenever I look at you.”

Jisung was stunned at the admission, all traces of anger gone from his expression. “Y/N,” he said. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah?” you said, voice quivering as you wiped away your tears. “Well, now you do.”

Jisung bowed his head, and you decided that you were done waiting for something to change, marching into your bedroom to grab your phone and dialing the first number you remembered.

“Chan,” you whispered when he greeted you on the other end. “Can I come over?”

There was only a split second of silence before Chan’s voice was soothing the raging storm inside of you. “I’ll send a car.”

It was almost midnight when your driver pulled up outside of a lavish home in the suburbs: huge, towering columns and Greco-Roman architecture making the place seem more like a mausoleum.

But it wasn’t the home itself that brought you comfort; rather, the people living within it who always made things seem safe and welcoming, and Chan was sure to greet you at the door, opening his arms wide to accept your embrace. “Was it a bad fight?” he asked, and you nodded while wondering how he could’ve possibly picked up on the fact that you and Jisung had been arguing again.

Maybe he just had good intuition when it came to you, and you appreciated the understanding, allowing him to bring you into an enormous den, settling you against the couch next to him while a fire blazed in the background. “I made tea,” Chan said, reaching for the two cups waiting on the ornamental table filling the empty space at the center of the room.

“Thanks,” you said, finding your eyes drawn to the neat stack of papers that had been sitting next to the cups.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chan asked, relaxing one arm around your shoulders, bringing you against his much-needed warmth.

“We just don’t get along anymore,” you said. “I thought having money would fix things, but everything is worse.”

“Really?” Chan asked, and he seemed to consider your words. “It might seem like a good thing, and from the standpoint of a businessman, money is a very powerful motivator.” He smiled, looking down at you with eyes glowing from the flames. “But money isn’t the solution when it comes to the people you love.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, but you had also started picking up on that yourself. “Were you busy with something?”

Chan followed your gaze, reaching out for the papers that had drawn your attention from the very first moment you sat down. “These?” Chan chuckled, and he slid them to the edge, allowing you to read the fine print across the cover. “Divorces are complicated, aren’t they?” Chan asked, and you hesitated when you realized what he was implying. “But if you have enough money, then anything is possible.”

“Chan...” you trailed off, vision blurring at the edges and making the letters bleed together - a cacophony of meaningless jargon. “What are you trying to say?”

“You’re unhappy,” Chan said, and it was an observation that wasn’t difficult to make after all that had happened. “I guess I just don’t want you to be associated with the person causing that unhappiness.”

“You want me to leave Jisung?” you said, breathing in and out because it wasn’t a simple decision that one could make on the spot - not after years of living with someone who had become a central part of your existence.

It was too much to bear, and Chan’s presence was almost suffocating, breaths heavy against the side of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “Why should you stay with him? With or without money, he can’t seem to make you smile.”

You trembled at his closeness, choking around a sob even though the atmosphere between the two of you was suddenly charged with something electric. “And then what?”

“Well, after Jisung signs them,” Chan said, and his tongue traced the lobe of your ear. “I’d love to have you for myself.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, closing your eyes as he took you into his arms, doing nothing more than holding you, but the feelings bubbling below the surface of your skin told you more than actions or words ever could.

The next morning, Chan had his driver take you back to the apartment you shared with Jisung.

The apartment was strangely quiet, and you left the divorce papers on the table in the kitchen while you went to shower, wanting nothing more than the scalding water to provide a temporary numbness to the confusion you felt in every fiber of your being.

It was a much-needed reprieve, and when you walked back into the kitchen, you were surprised to see your husband at the table, eyes downcast. “Come sit with me, Y/N.”

You swallowed hard when you realized he was searching through the divorce papers, but you weren’t met with his anger; instead, Jisung just seemed really sad, and that was much worse. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you said, but your husband just smiled and shook his head. 

“I knew you wouldn’t come back home for nothing,” he said, sliding out the chair next to him as an invitation. “Why should you? I treated you like shit the other night.”

“We both said some really cruel things,” you said, joining him with a sigh. “Things spiraled out of control.”

“I can see that,” Jisung said, tapping his fingers against the papers. “Let’s talk about what happened.”

You shivered at the thought. “I don’t think we should-”

“No,” Jisung interrupted, but it was a gentle chide. “It’s important, so hear me out.”

It would be so hard, but you still agreed. “Okay.”

“The whole mistake in Vegas wasn’t the money,” Jisung said. “No, money might’ve caused our problems, but the mistake wasn’t wanting something to make our lives better. The real mistake was me thinking that I could just forget about it after we left. That I could easily forgive us both...What’s that old saying? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?” Jisung laughed, but it was bitter sounding. “Bullshit, right?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Bullshit.”

Jisung smiled. “People in love stay with each other, not because they try to forget the wrong parts, but because they’re capable of forgiving the bad. And I couldn’t do that because I thought you would want Chan after that night...that you would be right to want him. He’s so much better in every way, the better man for someone wonderful like you. But by the time I realized that it wasn’t true, that he was only better because he had more money, everything had spiraled.”

He was quiet after his confession, struggling to hold back his tears as he clicked open one of our pens and brought the papers closer. “If you really want the divorce, then I’ll give it to you,” Jisung said. “I just want you to be happy.”

Why should you stay with him? With or without money, he can’t seem to make you smile.

“Jisung...” you trailed off, unsure if there was anything you could do to change the look in his eyes.

“I’ll always love you,” Jisung said, and it was the same promise as always, but you watched with a heavy heart as he signed his name in cursive as the bottom of the form.

The divorce papers felt like an added weight in your bag as you marched into the office building of SKZ Enterprises.

It was ridiculous, really. They were just papers, made in a factory and mass-produced to be sold in stores.

But it was the symbolism they carried, the significance of Jisung’s name scribbled at the bottom of the final page that had you faltering.

Your heart was hurting, and you forced a smile when you greeted Chan’s secretary at the corner next to his big, corporate office. “I’m here to see, Mr. Bang,” you told the secretary. “Tell him my name is Y/N.”

“Of course,” she said, and you watched her disappear into the office, giving you a few critical moments to collect your thoughts.

Until you heard his voice again:

“Y/N?” 

You startled at the sound of Chan’s voice, seeing him standing in front of you with a million-dollar smile on his weathered face. “Come inside?”

“Yes,” you agreed, following him into the office with the door shutting firmly behind you.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Chan said, grabbing you hand and pressing a kiss to your lips. “Is something wrong?”

“We need to talk,” you said, and Chan’s smile disappeared.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said, chuckling as he invited you to sit down in one of the expensive chairs next to his desk. “Do you need anything? I can call for some tea.”

“No,” you said, deciding it was better to get straight to the point as you reached into your bag to bring out the divorce papers stapled together.

“This could either be good or bad,” Chan remarked, accepting them from you and quickly turning to the last page, expression falling. “I see.”

“I can’t sign them,” you said, and there was something powerful in your tone that had even Chan admitting defeat.

“Damn,” Chan sighed, eyes boring a hole into the pages. “This is the worst news I’ve gotten.”

“I talked to Jisung,” you explained. “Just looking at him and entertaining the idea of leaving forever...I couldn’t do it.”

Chan finally tore his gaze from the papers, meeting yours with disappointment. “I take it he said something to change your mind.”

“I don’t know if he changed my mind,” you admitted. “Rather, I think his love and forgiveness made me see reason with what I was doing.”

“Ah,” Chan said. “I think we’ve come full circle, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you told me that all the money in the world couldn’t buy your love,” Chan said, and there was something that resembled respect reflected in his eyes. “You were right all along.”

You ducked your head, unable to maintain such intensity. “I’d like to give you that money back, Mr. Bang. My husband and I can manage on our own.”

“Oh, please, I’d be insulted if you did that,” Chan said, and he held out his hand for you to shake. “You know I’m a good businessman, so consider this an opportune long-term investment in something I’m supporting.”

You were full of gratitude, swallowing back tears as you nodded. “Thank you.”

“”There’s no need for that,” he said. “I’ll always be here for you.” The sentiment was matched by the gentle brushing of his lips across your cheek, and you could feel the last reminder of Chan even after leaving his office for the first and final time.

You were carrying takeout up the stairs, feeling lighter on your feet than you had in months.

The weight of your burdensome worries was gone, and you knocked with a little too much enthusiasm on the front door to your apartment.

“Y/N?” Jisung questioned, and there was an obvious look of surprise on his face when he opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” you reminded him with a cheeky smile. “I brought food.”

Jisung’s eyes moved to the bag in your hand, nodding once before allowing you inside. “I thought you were going to see Chan.”

“I did,” you said, leading him into the kitchen. “There were some things to discuss.”

“I see,” Jisung said, watching you with a wary expression as you presented him with his favorite Italian special.

The suspense was killing you, and you desperately wanted to see the frown leave his lips. “I didn’t sign the papers,” you said, sitting down at the table with a wearied sigh. “I couldn’t.”

“Really?” Jisung asked, clearing his throat at the hitch in his voice, but you were just trying to hide your smile at his boyish charms.

“Have I told you that I love you recently?” you asked, looking at him with way too much fondness.

Jisung paused, chopsticks poised in hand. “You do?”

“Always,” you affirmed, and you were unprepared for the first of Jisung’s tears to fall, endearing him even more to you if that was possible. “I’m happiest with you,” you told him, reaching out to wipe away those rebellious tears.

“I’ve always felt that way,” Jisung said, getting himself back under control as he pushed away his food and patted his lap. “Come here.”

You were more than happy to oblige, climbing into his lap to wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair while searing your lips together in a kiss that promised so much more from the one true love of your life.

[babygirl-diaz]

how about this tho -- bucky and sam are in heavy denial about how stupid gone they are for each other. and it's mostly bucky's fault :) cue like a bucky barnes from another time or better yet another timeline landing in theirs, and they gotta get him back home. but the other bucky barnes makes all the right moves on sam. makes him laugh, makes him smile, compliments him head to toe -- just easily expresses everything that the real bucky wants to say. bucky barnes being jealous of himself poor bb

(Wrote something based on this. Hope you like it, anon! Sorry it's a bit different from you prompt)

***

Bucky couldn’t sleep. The thoughts of Sam invaded his mind, like they often did these days, keeping him awake in the middle of the night. He thought about that beautiful face, that gorgeous smile… that hot body and that sexy ass that was just begging to be grabbed. Fuck.

But Bucky couldn’t make a move on the other guy because he was the only friend he had, and he didn’t want to lose him. So he was forever doomed to suffer through his schoolboy crush.

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes to finally get some sleep when a sound caught his attention. He was out of his bed before the knock on his door. He knew none of his enemies would knock before they burst into his apartment, but he still got the gun from the side table and took it with him. Pressing the muzzle to the door, he left the chain on as he peeked out of the door. But his eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw the person on the other side and the gun almost slipped from his hand.

“What the fuck…” he said incredulously. Standing before Bucky was his mirror image. Well, not exactly his mirror image, but close. He looked a little older than Bucky, was rough around the edges, his beard was slightly thicker, his brown hair was longer, and his eyes were brown instead of blue.

“I know how this looks,” the man said in a gruff voice. It sounded how Bucky would sound if he smoked. “Okay, maybe I don’t know how this looks. But could you please remove the gun from the door and let me in?”

“How did you--��� Bucky asked but was interrupted.

“I am you.” The man replied.

Bucky had to be dreaming. This was some lucid dream. He had a powerful urge to pinch himself, but instead, he lowered his gun and stepped aside, letting the other man into the apartment.

“Thanks,” the man said offhandedly.

“Care to explain what’s going on here?” Bucky asked, closing the door behind them.

“I will once I figure it out myself…” the other man replied.

“Well, you’re— you— you look like me.” Bucky said, staring at the other man. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t just look like you, dumbass. Like I said, I am you.” Okay, this man had no manners whatsoever.

“How can there be two of us? Wait, a second…” something hit Bucky. “Hydra… are they back? Did they send you?” He took the gun and pointed it right between the other man’s eyes.

“Hey, whoa, man, chill. I don’t work for Hydra.”

“Then who are you and where did you come from?” Bucky unlocked the safety of the gun and got closer to the other man.

“I keep telling you, asshole, I am you. What part of that is hard to grasp?” The other man asked. He suddenly looked more frustrated than scared. “As for where I am from… that’s hard to explain but let’s just say that I am not from this universe-- your universe.”

“What?” Bucky let the gun down once again. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Do you want me to write it in dumbass and hand it to you?”

Bucky again had the urge to shoot this man. “Can’t you talk without swearing?”

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable, princess?”

“You are such an asshole. How can you possibly be me?” Bucky asked. “I need to think…” He started pacing the floor, wondering what the fuck was he going to do. He stopped in his tracks when he remembered something. “Wait… how did you know where to find me?”

“I live in the same apartment in my universe. Except mine isn’t so…” he looked around and made a face. “--so clean and I have a cat.”

“A cat?” Bucky asked, surprised.

“Yes, fluffy little creatures, perky ears, long tails… You got those in your universe?”

Bucky threw his hands up. “Of course we have cats in our universe. I am just surprised that I would want anything to do with one.”

“What? You a catphobe?”

“That’s not even a thing..” Bucky scoffed. “And by the way, we’re derailing from the point. How did you get here?”

“Hell if I know,” the other man shrugged. “One second I am passed out drunk in my apartment and then the next thing I know I wake up in a strange-looking Brooklyn.”

“You can get drunk?” Bucky asked, surprised. The other Bucky had the bionic arm, even if it was old-fashioned. Then he had to have Bucky’s powers, too.

“It was with Thor. He brought out his special Asgardian liquor, and we got hammered,” the other man explained. “Pun fully intended.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at him and started pacing again. “I can’t do this alone. I need help.” He said, more to himself than the other man.

“Who are you calling?” The other man asked when Bucky picked up his phone to call.

“Sam.”

***

Sam looked exhausted when he arrived at Bucky’s doorstep, and Bucky hated to admit it, but his half asleep state and his grumpy face made him look kinda cute. Okay. Right. Focus Buck.

“What’s so urgent that you asked me to take the first flight here?”

“Okay, so don’t freak out…” Bucky said, putting his hands out in front of him.

“You telling me to not freak out is freaking me out, Buck.” Sam sidestepped Bucky and into the apartment. “So what is it?”

“You have to see it to believe it,” Bucky told him as he led him to the bedroom. He slowly opened the door, and the first thing to hit his ears was the sound of snoring.

“What the hell?!” Sam screeched, causing the other Bucky to practically fall off the bed in his haste to get up. “That’s--” Sam looked between the other Bucky and Bucky, before rushing out to the living room.

Bucky went after him and tried to touch his shoulder, but Sam shrugged him away. “What is going on? Who is that?”

“He’s apparently me,” Bucky explained. “From another universe.”

Sam blinked at Bucky before bursting out laughing. “He’s you. From another universe? Good one, Buck!”

When Bucky didn’t laugh along, Sam’s laughter died down. “You’re not joking.”

“No, he’s not.” Bucky turned around to find the other Bucky standing behind them in nothing but his boxers. “Hey, Sam,” the man tilted his head to the side and offered Sam a smirk.

Sam looked at him from top to bottom, making Bucky frown.

“Hi… Bucky?” Sam greeted him unsurely. “This is really freaky…”

“You’re telling me,” Bucky mumbled.

“H- how did you get to this universe?” Sam asked the other Bucky.

The other Bucky walked over to Sam and stopped a little too close to him. “I have no idea, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” Bucky and Sam asked at the same time and looked at each other.

“What? You don’t like it?” The other Bucky lowered his voice even more.

Sam cleared his throat and shook his head at that. “No, that- that’s fine.”

“Well, doll, I gotta say, you are hot.”

Bucky’s breath suddenly became shallow, and his hands tightened into fists beside him. How dare this man call Sam hot? Yes, Sam was hot. Really hot. But this man had no right to call him that.

“Oh, wow.” Sam chuckled nervously and bit down on his lips. “Thanks, man. You aren’t bad looking yourself. Love the rough around the edges look ya got going on.”

“Why, thanks, baby,” the other Bucky winked at him.

Bucky had enough of the other Bucky’s flirting, and he put himself between him and Sam. “Can we get back to the important part? How do we get you back home?”

The other Bucky dropped on the couch and put his arms behind his head. “No clue. I don’t even know how I got here in the first place.”

“We need help, Buck. This is way above our paygrade.”

Bucky agreed with Sam. This wasn’t a problem they could solve on their own. “Should we ask Dr. Strange for help?”

“It’s worth the try-”

“So you got the wizard over here too?” The other Bucky chimed in.

A broad smile spread across Sam’s lips. “THANK YOU!” Sam said a little too loudly. “Glad someone else agrees that he’s a wizard.” He raised his hand to high five with the other, Bucky, who enthusiastically returned the five. “By the way, we need a name for you. Can’t call you Bucky. It will be too confusing.”

“You can call me darling if you like, doll,” the other Bucky started flirting again. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Sam nervously chuckled at that again, “While I love that suggestion, I think I will go with James.”

“Shame,” the other Bucky-- James pouted. He actually pouted.

Sam sat down beside James and James immediately moved closer to him much to Bucky’s chagrin. “What’s the last thing you remember?” Sam asked.

“I remember going to bed drunk last night and then waking up here this morning.”

“How did you know you were in a different universe?” Bucky asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Everything felt wrong…”

Bucky and Sam looked at each other before Sam asked, “That can’t be the only thing, James.”

James sighed. “I’ve been sent to a different universe before.”

“You have?” Asked Bucky.

“Yeah… It just feels different when you’re in a different universe. It’s really hard to explain. You know how when you go to a different country and the wind suddenly doesn’t feel right? It’s like that except dialed up to 100.”

“So universe hopping isn’t anything new to you?” Bucky asked with an edge in his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Didn’t wanna freak ya out, dumbass,” James replied.

“Do you have to call me that?”

Sam looked up at him and chuckled, making Bucky frown even more.

“So, sweetheart, you got a lady or fella in your life?” James threw his bionic arm around Sam’s shoulder and pulled him closer.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to remove his arm and strangle him.

Sam threw a quick glance at Bucky before replying, “I’m single.”

“Nahhh… that can’t be true. A handsome fella like you doesn’t have anyone in his life. It’s impossible.”

“Are you always this flirty?” Sam asked him instead.

“Only around someone as sexy as you.” James leered at Sam like he wanted to eat him up.

Sam chuckled and looked down at the floor.

Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He was practically in love with Sam and couldn’t do anything about it. Yet, here was another version of him, touching him and openly flirting with him.

“Sam! Let’s go. We should go talk to Dr. Strange.” Bucky grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him up.

Sam threw him an annoyed look and pulled his arm out of Bucky’s grip. “Fine! Let’s go.”

“What do I do?” James asked.

Bucky threw him an annoyed look. “You stay here and watch tv or something. We’ll be back soon.”

[calebdumes]

so being the captain of your own ship sounds stressful, right? someone should treat Hera to a day of pampering... (surprise romantic spa trip? a sweet homemade experience by the whole crew? you decide!)

keeping the Ghost in shape is hard work! good thing Kanan is a pro in stress relief.

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

rating: mature

word count: 2.8k

~

Hera woke with a list of things to do already forming in her mind. The pleasant dreams that had taken her through the nighttime hours had been replaced with tasks that needed to be completed. The Phantom was due for a diagnostic, she needed to finish her modifications to the sublights if she ever wanted to take the Ghost out again, and they were starting to run low on supplies. She breathed out harshly from her nose, somehow she’d have to find time to make a trip into town between her repairs.

And if she was in town, she might as well stop in and give Old Jho a visit. Fighting for the rebellion was good work - important work - but it didn’t pay much and their small purse of credits was slowly dwindling.

With a sigh, Hera blinked open her eyes to the darkness of her cabin. Kanan was a warm weight across her chest as he did his best impersonation of a human blanket. For just a moment, she allowed herself the luxury of imagining a sleepy morning in bed. If only she could close her eyes and let Kanan’s gentle breathing lull her back to sleep, held in place by his comforting weight. What she would give to be woken hours later with his kisses trailing down her neck, across the tops of her breasts, his hands running down her sides as she let his wandering mouth travel lower and lower.

Hera shook the sticky sweet heat from her mind; she had too much to do to let that daydream become a reality. She tried to wiggle out from underneath Kanan but as soon as she began to move, his arms tightened around her.

“No.” he said, his voice muffled by her shoulder.

“I have things to do Kanan.” she whispered, scrubbing her fingers through the long strands of his hair. He shivered but didn’t loosen his grip.

“Too early.” was his response.

“I’ve got a lot to do today, love.”

She felt Kanan’s lips brush against the side of her neck as he replied, “Sleep now. Work later.”

Hera sighed again when it became clear Kanan wasn’t going to move. She managed to free an arm and reached blindly for her datapad on the floor. The blue-ish glow from the screen lit up her face as she rested it on the top of Kanan’s head. If he wasn’t going to let her get up then he couldn’t object to her using his body as a prop for her pad. He didn’t seem bothered by it if his snores were any indication.

She read through the local Holonet, clicking her tongue at the new regulations the Empire was putting on trade in Capital City. It didn’t seem like they were even trying to hide their blatant greed anymore. Either that, or they believed that their grip on Lothal was so tight that no-one would dare speak out against them.

Hera smirked at that thought. Maybe it was time they took a trip to Capital City and livened things up a bit. She would have to get out of bed first.

Kanan slept for another hour until he finally pushed himself up, blinking at her owlishly and his hair a mess from where her fingers had run through it. He smiled at her, warm and soft, before jumping from the cot and throwing on some clothes.

“Stay here for a second.” He told her before slipping from the cabin. Hera rolled her eyes and stood, stretching her arms up over head and feeling her spine pop. She rolled her shoulders and fanned her toes out on the cool durasteel floor. Her lower back twinged a little from her time with the engines yesterday and she knew the dull pain would only get worse after another day of work but, the Ghost wasn’t going to fix itself.

Slowly she began pulling on her day clothes, forgoing her typical flight suit for a dingy pair of grease stained slacks and a thin strapped top - it tended to get hot in the engine room and her flight suit would only make it worse. Just as she was pulling on her head wrap, the door to her cabin opened revealing Ezra and a plate piled high with waffles.

“Mornin’ Hera.” Ezra said, letting himself into her room. “I made breakfast.”

Hera blinked at the stacks of waffles dripping with bright purple syrup, the cloyingly sweet scent assaulting her nose. “I see that. Why?”

“Kanan said so.” There was a loud cough from out in the hallway. Ezra grimaced and shifted on his feet. “Uh, I mean, because I wanted to.”

Hera arched a disbelieving brow. “Uh huh, sure you did. What’s the real reason?”

“Well, Kanan did say so but he had a good point.” he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “You always make sure there’s food for us, we thought we’d make food for you. So,” Ezra waved at the plate of waffles. “Breakfast.”

Hera looked at the waffles and then back at the young teen. It was a sweet sentiment, even if it wasn’t needed - keeping the stores full for her crew was one of her duties as captain but Ezra’s show of appreciation made her heart melt just a little.

“Well thank you kind sir.” She said taking the plate from him.

“Anytime Captain.” Ezra smiled before retreating. Kanan filed into the room moments later.

“So, you told him to do it?”

“I didn’t tell him so much as gently suggested he bring you breakfast.” Kanan said as he flopped down on the bed.

“You know you don’t have to do that.” she sat down next to him.

Kanan took a waffle off of her plate and popped it in his mouth, licking the sugary syrup from his fingers. “I know but we wanted to.” he replied through his mouthful of food. “You do a lot for us, it’s past time we did something for you.”

There was a suspicious look on his face that put Hera on guard. “I know that look.” she said, setting the plate down on the bed. “What do you have planned?”

“A day of rest and relaxation.” he winked.

“Kanan…”

“Hera…” he mimicked.

“I have too much to do, I can’t just do...nothing.”

Kanan stole another waffle. “You wouldn’t be doing nothing, you would be relaxing. Besides, we can handle whatever you need to do.”

“Yeah but-” Hera began but Kanan leaned over and kissed her on the mouth, cutting off her protest. He tasted like Jogans and spice. Hera’s eyes slipped closed as he deepened the kiss, one hand cupping her jaw.

“Let us take care of things today, okay?” He asked as he broke away, resting his forehead against hers. Hera searched his face, drinking in his strange teal eyes. It had been a while since she had taken a day off but there was so much to do, she couldn’t possibly leave it all for her crew. “We can handle it.” Kanan said, as if reading her thoughts. “It’s what you hired me for in the first place, remember?”

Hera rolled her head against his and let her shoulder drop in defeat. “Fine.” she conceded. “But call me if you need any help.”

Kanan kissed her cheek before standing. “We’ll be fine. You just relax.”

“Have Chopper help you with the sublights, he has the schematics. And we need more soap, oh and see if Jho has a job for us or Vizago if necessary.”

“Hera.” Kanan smiled from the doorway. “Relax.” he gave her a jaunty two finger salute before the cabin doors slid shut, leaving Hera alone in her room.

She looked around the cabin suddenly feeling at a loss. What was she going to do now?

-

A gentle knock on her cabin pulled Hera from her third nap of the day. The holobook she had been reading tumbled to the floor as she sat up stretching. She smiled to herself, the pain in her back was nearly nonexistent and she felt more refreshed than she had in a long, long time. Maybe Kanan was right and she was long overdue for a day off.

It had been hard at first, to let the others do the work she had planned while she did essentially nothing. Her fingers itched to do something, anything other than sitting alone in her room but she didn’t want Kanan to think that she didn’t trust him to take care of her ship. Out of all the beings in the galaxy, Kanan was the only person that she actually did trust. And not just with her ship. So Hera had gotten back under the covers and ate her breakfast in the silence of her cabin.

That hadn’t lasted long, the quiet became too loud so she escaped to the lounge. At least there she could keep an eye on the coming and goings of her crew. Only, the common space had been empty. Ezra and Zeb had gone to town to pick up supplies and Kanan had recruited Sabine to help him with the last of the engine modifications. It was clear she wasn’t going to be allowed to do anything productive so she curled up in the big wooden chair and let her mind drift until she fell asleep.

The rest of the day had passed in a sleepy haze as she meandered from the lounge to her cabin; napping when she felt like it, eating the snacks Kanan had prepared for her, and catching up on the holobooks she had been wanting to read. Once she allowed herself to relax, letting the others handle the work became much easier.

There was another knock on the door, a little more forceful this time, followed by a hesitant voice. “Hera? Are you awake?”

Hera tossed the sheets aside and padded over to the door, hitting the control and smiling as Sabine came into view.

“I’m awake.” She smiled at the young Mandalorian who returned it with a slight tilt of her lips. Her orange and blue hair was slightly mussed and Hera could see a streak of engine grease on her exposed arm but there was a sparkle of accomplishment in the depth of amber eyes. It was the same look Hera got when she finished working on her ship.

“Dinner’s ready if you want to eat.” Sabine said. “I made stew.”

Hera’s stomach rumbled loudly as if on cue. “I could eat.” she chuckled, following the teen down the hallway into the lounge. The rest of her crew was already seated around the beat up holotable, steaming bowls of stew and crusty bread before them. Hera took her seat next to Kanan and inhaled the spicy scent of cooked tip yip and Sabine’s potent blend of spices.

“Don’t worry.” Sabine said. “I didn’t make it as spicy this time.”

“Good.” Ezra breathed in a sigh of relief. “Cus’ I couldn’t taste anything for like a week last time.”

Zeb chuckled, scooping a heaping portion of the stew into his mouth. “You humans don’t know anything about real flavor.”

“And Lasats do?” Sabine challenged, sprinkling a dusting of seasoning over her bowl. “You just grill everything until it’s burnt. At least you can taste more than fire with my food.”

“Not that much more.” Kanan coughed, reaching for his water.

Sabine rolled her eyes and launched into a haughty argument on the nuances and meaning behind Mandalorian cooking. Hera was only partly paying attention, taking small bites of the rich and spicy stew. She could feel the burn of Sabine’s seasoning scorch down her throat, leaving her mouth tingling.

“How did the modifications go?” she asked in a hoarse voice, leaning into Kanan’s side. He smelled like sweat and oil but Hera wasn’t too bothered by it. It felt good to be pressed up against his side after spending the better part of the day alone. She felt the heat from his body seep into her bones, making her insides twist with desire.

“Wonderful.” He responded as he threw an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in, impossibly close. “How did your day off go?”

Hera pressed her lips to his cheek. “Wonderful.” she pitched her voice low so that he would be the only one to hear her say, “But there is one thing that’s missing.”

“Oh yeah?” Kanan smirked, his eyes trailing down her face to land on her lips. “And what’s that?”

Hera placed a hand on his knee, slowly dragging it up his thigh. “You.”

The reaction in Kanan was instant. His face flushed with heat and his pupils grew wide until there was only a small circle of teal left. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear cone and said, “Well, good thing I have something special planned for dessert.”

“I get that you two are like, gross in love or whatever.” Sabine’s voice cracked over Hera like ice, causing her to pull away from Kanan as if she had been shocked and the heat of embarrassment to color her cheeks. “But some of us are still eating so could you save all your gushy feelings until after dinner?”

“That’s the plan.” Kanan winked, unbothered about being called out. Ezra and Sabine both gagged.

Zeb smirked before draining his bowl and pushing up from the table. “I’m taking the kids into town tonight.” He said, walking into the galley. “Jho found us a job.”

“Do you need any back up?” Hera asked, secretly hoping that the Lasat would refuse.

“Nah, we’ve got it handled.” He brought his clawed hands down on Sabine and Ezra’s shoulders and pulled them to their feet. “We’ll let you get to your...night.”

Hera hid her face behind her hands.

“Wait, I’m not done eating!” Ezra complained as Zeb hustled him out of the lounge.

“You can get something at Jho’s.” Sabine countered. “Now let's go before they start making out at the table.”

“We wouldn’t do that!” Kanan yelled to their retreating backs. “At least not with an audience.” he said to her once they were alone.

Hera looked at him through her fingers. “You have no shame do you?”

He shrugged. “Not really.” Hera snorted, that was obvious. She picked up her spoon and dragged it through her stew but her mind was no longer on eating. Instead, she was intimately aware of every point of contact between her and Kanan, little points of starlight pulling her in. Her heart fluttered in her chest, her fingers tightening on Kanan’s thigh. He glanced down at her hand and then back to her face, biting his lower lip.

“C’mon.” Hera said, pushing her bowl away and standing. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, interlacing their fingers as she led him back to the cabin. As soon as the door slid closed, Hera turned and pulled Kanan down into a heated kiss, tasting the spice of the stew on his tongue.

His hands roamed over her body, pulling at the hem of her shirt while she unfastened his pants. Clothing fell to the floor as they made their way to the cot, breathy moans slipping between hurried kisses.

Hera fell back onto the bed as Kanan covered her neck with adoring kisses.

“Was this all part of your plan?” she said, her breath hitching as his thumbs brushed the tops of her hips.

“No actually.” Kanan chuckled, his face flushed. “I was just going to give you the day off. Getting the kids off the Ghost,” he kissed her lips. “Was all Zeb.”

Hera knocked her closed fist gently under his jaw. “Lucky you.” she smirked up at him.

“Lucky me.” he smiled back.

She got a little lost, looking at the love and devotion shining in his eyes. Kanan loved her with no conditions, no expectations - it was pure and sweet and simple and it made Hera feel like she would come apart at the seams from the intensity of it.

He loved her and Hera loved him back just as fiercely. She grabbed hold of his face and pulled him into a crushing kiss, pouring every bit of herself into him.

“I love you.” she whispered, breaking them apart.

Kanan nipped at her lips, “I love you too.” he said and Hera could feel it vibrating in her bones, weaving the promise held in his words right into her very soul. She let him kiss her, feeling his skin against hers until her desire grew to great. Hera pushed on his shoulder and he went willingly, sinking between her legs with a smirk on his face.

As she came undone under his skillful ministrations, Hera thought to herself, maybe she should take the day off more often.

[deppsessed]

Good luck charm #2

Part one here

Pairing: Johnny Depp x reader

It’s taken me a few weeks to write and be happy with this part to post. I hope that you all enjoy it and that it was worth the wait. 

  A few days later, I swear I can still smell the musky scent of Sauvage, and the taste of cigarettes on my lips. It’s hard to comprehend any of the last seventy-two hours being real, and going by Alex’s (who I’m sitting opposite having coffee with) reaction and raised eyebrows at me retelling the whole story, she’s having a hard time with it too. And in all honesty, I don’t blame her, it’s a lot to process.

“So, he invited you to the concert after party?”

I nod my head and take a sip of my coffee. 

“Yep.”

“And he took you back to his hotel room? Where you-”

My lips curve into a smirk.

“He sure did.” 

“And you’re aware of the fact this all sounds like a badly written fanfiction?”

I have to burst out laughing. There’s no denying it because it really, really does. I couldn’t have made it up if I tried.

“Did I tell you about the part where he had to get his security to smuggle me out of the building unnoticed the next morning?”

For me, that had been the most amusing part of the story. Having breakfast with him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. After a few more spent kisses and I’d decided that it was time for us to part ways, he’d sent in his security in to make sure I got out of the building safely.

“But the real question is… Has he called or texted you?”

He hadn’t yet. The band had played a show last night, and would be travelling again for their next tomorrow. I wasn’t hanging on and waiting for him to reach out to me either. It would be pretty easy for me to pick up the phone and call him too, but I refused to be that desperate. 

I shake my head in reply to Alex’s question.

“No, but he gave me his number.”

“So, he’s waiting for you to call him then?” 

Realistically, the chances were that it was a one night thing. I wouldn’t hear from him again and we’d go our separate ways. I’d rather be hit with the reality of the situation than holding out on hope for a phone call and being disappointed when it didn’t happen. 

“I’m not going to. I don’t want him to think that I’m pining over him and completely desperate!” 

“You’re insane… You know, if he wasn’t in the slightest bit interested then he wouldn’t have given you his number to begin with.”

That was a true enough point to make, but I’m still not deluded enough to give into the fantasy. I’m ready to give her a reply when my phone, that’s been sitting on the table in front of me, starts to frantically vibrate. 

“Oh my god!” 

Alex spots the name on the screen before I’m able to take a glance. 

“He’s calling you! This really is a badly written fanfiction!” 

I shrug my shoulders and continue to let the phone ring out. If it’s important, he’ll leave a voicemail. 

“If you don’t answer that, I will!” 

I scowl at her and shake my head, it’s hard to believe that I’m the one that’s being responsible about handling all of this. Before she’s able to reach for the phone, I’m swiping it off the table and standing up. “I’m at least taking it outside.” I grumble under my breath.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi-” The voice on the other end is raspy and familiar. I can just about see him fidgeting around like he does in interviews when he’s nervous. “It’s Johnny.”

Silence.

 I’m confused. Does he want me to make the next move?

“Right… Your name rings a bell. There was this Johnny, that the other night I went to go and see his band and ended up spending the night in his hotel room-”

I don’t even mean for the words to sound as aggressive as they do .

“I feel like I owe you a little of an explanation -- I don’t usually do this. I, uh, I don’t usually invite girls - especially fans -  back to my hotel room, and not call for three days.” 

So it’s one of those phone calls, where he’s expecting to let me down gently and feels the need to explain everything that I already know to be the case. 

“There’s no need to make a fool of yourself… I get it.” 

“I don’t think that you do.” 

What isn’t there to get? 

“I get it. I mean this is probably the part where you offer me an obscene amount of money to not go to the press about it. You don’t need to worry--”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I freeze dead in my tracks, the thoughts of my overactive imagination and the words that I’m about to hit him with come to a close. Am I hearing things? Did he really just say…

“What?”

“It’s probably a really bad line. I don’t know if you heard me, I said….”

God, he’s insufferable. 

“No, I heard you… I just don’t get it.”

He has his choice of any girl in the world. Models, actresses, and here he is calling me.

“The other night was special for me-”

It’s a cliché, and just about the worst thing that he could come out with, but I’ll let him continue. 

“Listen, this probably sounds insane… but I want you here for the show tomorrow-”

He can’t be serious or that disconnected with reality. But then I remember the industry that he’s been working with the past thirty years, where he doesn’t have a nine to five job to cling onto, with a snap of his fingers he can pack his bags and travel somewhere else.

“I can fly you out, get you into the concert.”

That’s it. I can’t hold in my laughter, and I can just about see him pondering on the other end what’s so funny about his offer.

“I have a job-”

“So, call in sick?”

“It doesn’t work like that or that I don’t want to. It’s just, if I let you pay for the tickets and fly me out then that’s cheap, and I don’t want to be that person.”

There’s a long, drawn out sigh on the other end of the phone.

“Let me call you back.” I tell him, “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

---

A family emergency had been the most inventive thing that I’d been able to come up with, but it at least stopped any questions and pestering from work and friends about skipping town all of a sudden. The process of getting there had been planned to perfection, he was going to have one of the band’s security head on out to the airport and take me back to the concert venue - even if I had told him ten times how ridiculous it was and that I could get a cab, he had been insistent. 

The journey from the airport to the venue has me pondering the insanity of it all. Both in him actually wanting me here, and me going as far as to make it happen.  

The car pulls into the loading bay of the venue, where the tour buses and trucks with the band’s gear are on it. It’s when I get out of the car, that I notice him, like he’s just stepped off a photoshoot, puffing on a cigarette. I make the conscious decision to take him by surprise and sneak up on him.

“You know, those things are going to kill you one day-”

He startles, just about jumping out of his skin and choking on his cigarette in the process. 

“Too bad we’re all going to die anyway, so we might as well indulge in the bad things while we’re alive and kicking.”

“That’s a little of a morbid stance to have.”

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders, unphased, “Calling me out on my smoking and then calling me morbid might be the best ‘hello’ I’ve ever gotten.”

He flicks the cigarette to the floor before stubbing it out with his shoe. He stands there with outstretched arms, ready to welcome me, but in blind panic I go for a handshake rather than a hug.

“Hi.” 

His eyes widen, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I can almost see his thought process of just how he’s going to redeem himself and move on from the award pause.

“Hi,” There’s a long pause. “Was your flight okay? You got here safe?”

Thankfully, the flight had only been a couple of hours long - but that was more than enough time for me to spend on a plane. There was something about being in a constricted space, thousands of feet up in the air that made me nervous. Plus, without fail, I always felt disgusting afterwards.

“Guy beside me was snoring and drooling the whole time, I felt incriminated.” 

“Should’ve taken my offer to fly you out first class.” I snort and roll my eyes at him. We’d already been over this, I’d made myself clear, I wasn’t going to be his groupie.

“Actually, without being rude, is there a place I can go and shower first? Being frisked at security and sitting on a plane kind of makes me feel gross.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement, I can almost see the cheeky comment that he’s threatening to make on the tip of his tongue, but something stops him.  “Tour bus is free at the moment. I can give you the exclusive tour, too.” 

Showering on a tour bus. Great. Exactly what I had in mind. 

“Ladies first,” He gestures with his hand for me to move in front of him. It doesn’t take a scientist to work out that the giant black RV with the band logo across it is where we’re headed..

Much to my surprise, going inside, it’s more like a luxury hotel room on wheels. It feels a better standard than my apartment back home.

“This part is the kitchen…. We don’t use it much, aside from the mini bar.” 

It doesn’t even qualify to be called a kitchen. It’s a tiny little counter space with a microwave, a coffee machine, and a mini fridge. 

“And this is where we sit and relax, talk, play guitar...” He points towards the plush leather sofas adjacent to each other. “The cool part here is that the wall slides back if you need more space.”

“Impressive.”

“These are the bunks where we bring back the groupies.” 

I’m unsure whether they look claustrophobic, like I’ve heard many complaints about, or if they look quite cozy.

“There’s a proper bedroom through there too, but Alice and Joe usually fight it out for it. I don’t mind sleeping it rougher.” He explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “Bathroom is through the back. Take as much time as you need. I’ll stand guard for you.” 

“Thank you.” I look up at him with a smile before brushing past to open the door on the back wall that extends out into the bathroom. Much to my surprise, the room isn’t all that smaller than the bathroom in my apartment back home. The shower, that I assumed was going to be a small, cramped space, is quite spacious. The only strange thing is stripping down and knowing who is standing guard by the door.

He’s in every way true to his word, too. As I turn the water off and grab a towel to wrap myself in, I can hear a disagreement going on outside between Johnny and Tommy about the bathroom being otherwise engaged.

“I’m telling you, dude, you’re just going to need to find somewhere else to go and pee… Bathroom is off limits!”

“But I can’t hold it in, man! I’m dying! You think I can use the kitchen sink?”

Johnny starts to laugh at him, “You can’t be serious!”

There’s a little more toilet talk back and forth and laughing still going on by the time I’m dressed and nudging the door open carefully.

“Um, hi, Tommy.” I greet nervously and fold my arms over my chest.

“Oh! Now I get it… You have a girl here!” 

I can feel a blush rise to my cheeks just thinking about what is no doubt going through his mind. Thankfully, Johnny comes to the rescue.

“It’s not -- it isn’t that, Tommy.” 

“Oh, I’m sure.” He gives a wink at the two of us. “I’ll leave you to it, J-man!” And just like that, Tommy is off the bus.

“I’m sorry about him.” Johnny sighs, “He says what he thinks, there’s no stopping him.” 

“It’s fine,” I brush off, acting as if I’m unbothered. But in reality, that one comment has gotten to me. I can’t help but have the niggling thought in the back of my mind, if that’s the way that Tommy is going to react, then what is the rest of the band going to be like? 

---

The concert was amazing, even better than what it had been a few nights ago. I’d watched the show from the side of the stage, and could safely say that this time, Johnny had been looking and smiling at me. 

I hadn’t wanted to face the confrontations of the band after the show, so after the encore, I had decided to hide away in Johnny’s dressing room to look at my phone for a moment of peace and quiet. If I was to exclude the fact that it was Johnny Depp’s dressing room that I was sitting in, it would have felt like the first normal moment of an otherwise bizarre day. 

The door flying open makes me look up from the screen, to see Johnny standing there, still hot and sweaty from being under the lights. 

“Everything okay?” He asks with a concerned expression, “You weren’t there when I came off stage. I was a little worried that I’d scared you off.”

I’m hardly going to tell him that I’m scared of running into the band when he’s the one that’s brought me out here to be with him. “I just didn’t want to get in the way, I thought you guys would be in a race to hit the showers.” I lie coolly. It seems to be good enough, since he goes to change the subject.

“What did you think?” He asks, a grin firmly in place on his lips. “Could you see and hear alright? The speakers weren’t too loud?” 

I grin and nod my head eagerly. “You sounded amazing! Heroes was phenomenal...” I probably sound like I’m trying to impress him, but it’s my favourite song that the band do.

“Ah, you see,” He pauses to take a drink from his water bottle. “I think I had a little bit of extra good luck, with being cheered on the side front.” 

I can feel that warm feeling of heat going up to my cheeks, and certainly not for the first time today. It makes me feel so powerless and awkward to just stand and say nothing.

“Um,” He scratches the back of his head, “You must be hungry?”

Starving, actually. I hadn’t had anything to eat since getting here and been too shy to pluck up the courage to ask about food since getting here. I’d accepted my fate and growling stomach a good few hours ago.  But regardless, I downplay it, “A little, I guess…”

“Do you want to go and grab something to eat? I need to get showered and changed first… 

I’m not certain what prospect makes me more nervous. Dinner with him. Or dinner uncomfortably sitting around all of the Hollywood Vampires eating. Both make my stomach flip. Especially since he isn’t going to specify.

[tinawritesstuff]

Andiamo a conoscere la famiglia

(Let’s meet the family) 

Pairing: Chris Evans/ Fisrt Person Reader

Wordcount: 4.7k 

Warnings: smut, NSFW, read under caution

Request: “Hello!! If you’re still taking requests I was wondering if you could write a one shot where the Chris evans and age gap reader go on vacation with her family for the first time and it’s just supa sweet maybe even a little smutty? Thanks a ton”  by the lovely and patient @bellamy-morley-blake​ 

A/N: This is my first CEvans OS and I don’t know what lead me to write the tittle in Italian, but oh well. Hope you enjoy it! Don’t forget to reblog and comment if you like it! 

CEvans taglist: @mrsnegan25​

When I agreed to be Chris Evans’ girlfriend, the thought of him meeting my family never really crossed my mind, considering that I never thought our relationship would go further than a couple of dates.

And I’ve never been more thankful for being wrong. We’ve been together for half a year now, and things have been wonderful. He’s the most passionate guy I’ve ever met, about his job, his hobbies, his family and now, me.

We met in Disneyworld, at Magic Kingdom to be more precise, and to say sparks flew instantly would be an understatement. I was traveling with my family and him with his, and we met on the line for one of the rides. He asked for my name and then we started talking, completely forgetting about our relatives and the line ahead and behind us. After that, we went to a couple of dates, inside and out the parks at Disney, and as they say, the rest is history.

Since the moment our first date started, I knew that Chris was the type that my parents would like for me, even though our age gap was kind of obvious. But that didn’t matter so much, specially to us.

The idea of spending the holidays with my parents was mine, and I was nervous about the outcome of it and how Chris would react. I happened to be wrong, again. My boyfriend was thrilled about the idea and was excited because he’d wanted to meet my relatives for a while. So, we decided to surprise them with a trip to the Bahamas. The idea was to departure, each of us, from the locations we were in (Chris and I from Boston, to L.A., and then to the Island; and my parents from my hometown), and we would all meet and check in at the hotel.

I close the zip of my bag and let out a big huff, because I’m finally done packing my clothes and necessaire with my “lady stuff” as Chris calls it. After days and days of procrastinating, the day of our flight finally arrived and my luggage wasn’t even half way made. So, I had to go full speed and get it all together a couple of hours before leaving.

Chris texts me, saying that he and his brother are on their way to pick me up to go to the airport. I reply back with a “Ok! Can’t wait!!!” and then finish packing the last necessities.

After some minutes, I don’t know exactly how many, my phone starts ringing and when I go to pick up, I see that it’s Chris. Who else, duh?

-          We’re here, baby! Do you need help with your bags?

 -          Uhm… I think I got it. But come up here to give me some kisses, I’ve missed you. – I pout and I hear him laugh.

 -          Okay, babe. I’m on my way up. – he hangs up and I keep packing stuff on my carry-on baggage: phone charger, earphones, passport, airplane tickets, etc.

 I hear a soft knock on the door, then it gets opened and Chris comes in with his childish smirk. I smile back at him and walk fast to his waiting open arms. When I reach him, I jump on him, wrapping my legs around his slim waist and my arms around his neck, and he holds me tight against him, putting one of his hands on my back and the other under my butt.

I grab his face with both my hands and bring him close to me, to seal our lips in a deep kiss. The last time we saw each other was ten days ago, and I can see that he missed me as much as I did him. When we break apart, he smiles at me and I peck his nose, then his cheekbones and finally go back to peck his pink and full lips. Gosh, how I’ve missed him.

-          I’m afraid that, if you keep this up, we won’t make it to the airport. – he says between pecks and I nod my head, but don’t let go of him.

He then puts me down, seeing that I have no intention of doing so, and grabs my face to give me one last full, deep kiss. We separate and he goes to grab my big bag, silently asking with a nod of his head if there’s anything else I need him to carry, to which I shake my head no and he nods again. I go grab my backpack and then we both take off, me closing and locking the door once we’re outside. We walk hand in hand down through the building I live in, till we reach the lift. Once inside it, we make small talk about his latest projects and my online classes. He talks a bit about A Starting Point, how the interviews have gone and how it has impacted to young population (me included, and I’m not even from the U.S). I feel so proud of him, he’s achieved a lot, after working so hard for it.

When we reach the first floor, the metal doors open and we walk to the reception of the building, where Albert (the doorman by the entrance) greets us and opens the door for us. When we step outside, I thank the kind man and we both walk to Chris’ car, where his brother Scott is waiting for us. My boyfriend opens the trunk to get my suitcase inside, and I open the back door to get into the car.

-          Hi sweets, how are you? – greets me Scott once I’m seated, with a big smile on his handsome face.

 -          Hello, handsome. I’m pretty well, how about you? – I smile back at him and lean forward to kiss his cheek.

-          Awesome. It’s been an amazing couple of weeks lately.

 -          That’s great, hon! Tell me more about it.

I pay high attention to him while Chris climbs on the passenger seat, and Scott tells me all about this new guy (Steve) he’s been seeing lately. I love how happy he is, he definitely deserves it. 

On our way to the airport, we share what each of us has been up to in the time we didn’t see one another, while Chris controls the music with his phone that is connected to the stereo via Bluetooth. “More than words” by Extreme sounds through the speakers and my boyfriend looks at me through the side mirror and smiles lightly at me, letting me know with that gesture that this song is dedicated to me, to us.

The thing is, we haven’t told each other the ‘L’ word yet and the worst part is that I don’t even know why. We love each other, we show the other that we feel that way, but expressing those words out loud has proven to be a difficult task. 

I smile back at him and lean forward to leave a peck on his shoulder, with the car seat between us. Scott keeps making small talk, and sometimes the three of us would sing whenever a classic song comes next. It takes us at least forty minutes to arrive to our destination, and when we do, we still have one more hour to do the check in and wait to board our flight. Chris and I go to the check in and dispatch area, where we hand the kind old lady our passports and tickets, and she does the procedure to send us, later, to the boarding waiting room. We say goodbye to Scott, with huge hugs and kisses from my part and a tight hug with a pat in the back from Chris, and we go to the security scanner to get ourselves checked. It only takes us around twenty minutes, and we are finally able to go to wait for our flight to be announced.

Some fans come to ask for pics with Chris, and he can’t refuse them. They stare at me weirdly, making me feel anxious in a way, because I’m not sure how to interpretate those looks. Are they mad? Are they judging me, or my relationship with Chris? We haven’t gone public yet, so I don’t really know what they could possibly be judging me for. So, I decide to let it go for now.

A voice in the speakers calls for the attendants of our flight to board, and that’s when he can finally come back to me. He gives me a sympathetic smile while I collect our stuff and I just wave it off. It’s not a big deal. 

After almost thirteen hours of flying and waiting (five hours from Boston to L.A, then three hours waiting for our next flight, and finally four more hours to Bahamas), we make it to the hotel around six in the morning, completely tired and with zero energy to do anything but sleep. We leave our bags next to a couch the room has, and I decide to go and take a quick shower to remove the airplane smell from my body. When I’m done, I get out of the bathroom with just a towel around my body and one holding my wet hair, and I spot Chris soundly snoring on the bed. I let out a little laugh and then proceed to get comfy in one of his shirts and one of my black thongs he loves so much. After that, I go lay down next to him until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore and fall deeply asleep.

The next day, I wake up tangled between Chris’ limbs and I let out a big yawn before circling my arms around his back, closing my eyes and kissing his naked shoulder. I feel him stir and then turning around to face me, leaving a trail of kisses from my face down to my neck and shoulders. He keeps pecking every inch of skin he can reach, until I open my eyes and smile lightly at him, and he smiles back at me, before leaning forward to leave a sweet kiss on my lips.

-          Good morning, pretty girl. – he mumbles against my cheek and leaves a peck there.

 -          Good morning, big guy. How’d you sleep?

 -          Mmm… your incessant snoring actually kept me up for a couple of minutes, but I’m getting used to it by now. – I reply coyly and he lets out a snort.

 -          Like a baby, considering I’ve finally got you all to myself. – he smiles again and I back at him. – How about you?

 -          You aren’t what they call a light sleeper either, my love. Have had your fair share of snores as well.

 -          And I’m sure you haven’t been able to sleep properly for it, specially tonight. 

We spend a couple of minutes there, laying in bed, sharing kisses and silent touches, showing to the other that we lounged for this moment, after being apart for so long. The clock marks ten past eleven in the morning, and we decide to get up and unpack our bags. Chris goes for a shower first, and then joins me to do the task in hand.

After some brunch, we head out of the room after I receive a text from my mom saying that they were settled in the hotel (same as ours) and that we should meet them at the lobby. Chris takes my hand, and I can feel him sweating with the tip of his fingers cold as ice, touching the skin of my own. I take our joined hands to my mouth and leave a little kiss on the back of his, letting him know that everything’s fine, and he turns to look at me and smiles nervously but his shoulders visibly relax.

When we reach the lobby, I can see my parents waving their arms at us, and I wave back at them with a big smile on my face. I’m so excited about this.

Chris and I walk hand in hand to them and when we are face to face, I jump to hug both my parents after months of not seeing them due to my job commitments. They hug me back, telling me how much they’ve missed me. When we break our group hug, I turn to my boyfriend and stretch my hand to him, beckoning to come closer to us. He does just that, but stays an arm length to greet them with a handshake (I suppose), except that my mom doesn’t let him and pulls him in a big hug, taking Chris by surprise.

-          I’m sorry, darling, but we’re huggers.

 -          It’s ok, ma’am. I am one myself, but didn’t want to cross any line.

 -          I’m starting to like you and I don’t even know your name, son. – my father smiles and pats Chris on the back, instead of going for a full bear hug like my mom did.

-          It’s Chris, sir. Chris Evans, a pleasure to finally meet you.

The day goes on pretty much that way. Chris and my parents engage into deep conversations about diverse topics, like politics, sports, even religion. Dad explains to him the importance of meritocracy to make a citizen evolve (according to his point of view, obviously) and Chris gives his opinion about that topic as well.

We enjoy some time in the hotel pool, my mom and I sunbathing while our men chat away in the bar, and when the sun starts to go down a bit we decide to go and sightsee around the island. First, each of us go to our respective rooms, to shower the chlorine off our bodies and get into comfortable clothes.

Once that’s done, we meet again at the lobby, where my parents arrived first (because my man and I took some extra time to do… some extra activities), and were talking with the receptionist, asking him where we can visit. He gives us some maps that show the nearest touristic area, somewhere we could reach walking, and we all thank him before leaving.

We go to a small village, where local markets are still open to the public, and we all go our ways to see and buy stuff if we feel like it. Chris and I walk with our fingers intertwined, me resting my cheek on his strong bicep and leaving little pecks every now and then. I feel the love I have for him radiating through my veins, after the success of this afternoon, all I want to do is be with him, show him how much I thank and love him for today and all the effort he put to make things easier.

-          Look, baby – he says signaling a stand with different handicrafts on a table, with a lovely smiling old lady standing behind it.

 I look around, and Chris leaves my side for a moment to go and check out some of the rest of the stands. A quartz stone necklace catches my attention and, after asking the kind lady, I grab it between my fingers.

-          Each of the rocks have different meanings, you know. – the woman says and I look back at her – The green one you’re holding now represents prosperity and wellness, and they all change according to the color. The purple one goes for spirituality and meditation, the blue one for calm force and relaxation, and the list goes on and on. – she smiles sweetly at me and I back at her. – Any of them caught your eye?

-          The green one, actually. If you had two of them, it would be amazing.

 She smiles again and leans down to reach for something under the table, to come back up with another necklace just like the one I’m holding in my hands. She puts them both inside a little paper bag and I hand her the money, then I thank her and go back to my boyfriend.

We continue our walk until the sun sets completely and we decide to grab some dinner before heading back to the hotel. After dinner, my parents decide to go to bed early because of the long flight and the hours of endless fun they had with us, calling it a night. But Chris and I opt to go to walk through the beach for some time. And that’s what we do.

The path is silent, but nice. We walk holding hands and suddenly I remember the two pieces of artisan jewelry I have inside my little purse, which makes me stop my walk and Chris to look at me confused.

-          I got something for, well, us. – I say with a smile handing the pendant to him. He looks at me with a confused but lovely smile – When you left be on that stand, I saw these necklaces and instantly fell in love. The nice lady said they have different meanings depending on the color.

 -          Well, what does the green one mean baby?

 -          It’s a symbol of prosperity and wellness, according to her. And I knew I had to get one for each of us. – I take a deep breath. Okay, here it goes. – Today was lovely, with my parents and everything, you made it so special and joyful. I’m so thankful for you, that I had to get you something to express that, so this is it. This is my wish for us, a commitment I decide to make to you, for this relationship to be as prosperous and strong as this solid piece. Because I love you, and all I want to do is grow this love with you next to me, supporting each other and working hard to make it work.

 I finish my little speech with a crack in my voice, tears accumulating in my eyes, but I couldn’t care less, because I’ve been dying to let him know that I love him with every piece of me, every fiber of muscle, every single part of me loves him like I never loved anyone before. When I look up at him, I see the same emotions radiating from his baby blues, and he wastes no time to grab my face between his soft hands and kisses me with all the adoration he has for me, that I know he has.

-          God, I can’t believe you’ve made me tear up like this. – he says when we break the kiss and we both chuckle – You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out. Your words just made me fall in love even more deeply with you, and now I feel like an idiot for not expressing my feelings well enough. - He laughs in embarrassment – But the thing is, I love you with all of me, with every piece of mind and soul, in every way there’s possible, and I commit to you as well to make this love grow even more, and work for it through thick and thin. You’re my world, nugget.

Now I’m fully- ass crying. I hug him tightly, circling my arms around his strong shoulders, and he puts his around my back, lifting me and hiding his face in the space between my neck and shoulder. Chris leaves little pecks on the skin there, and finally moves his mouth to mine, sealing our love deal with a searing kiss. A kiss that holds every emotion we have and share, emotions we’ve been suppressing all this time. No more, though.

When we break apart, he asks me to put the pendant around his neck and he does the same with me, and with happy smiles on our faces we walk back to the hotel.

 We reach our roon and I can feel the change on the air. There’s tension, and Chris looks at me with a promise of a night full of showing me that he meant every word he said. I walk backwards, with Chris walking towards me, guiding me to the bed and making me fall on it when I reach it with the back of my knees. He crawls above me, placing both his hands on each side of my head, looking directly in my eyes. I smile at him, bringing one of my arms up to caress his bearded jaw, and he leans into my touch, leaving a little kiss on my hand right after.

Chris starts caressing my legs, from my ankles up to my thighs, leaving a path of goosebumps on my skin as he lifts my long skirt and rolls it up on my hips, leaving my covered crotch exposed to his starved sight. I let out a sigh when he blows a thin rush of air from his mouth, hitting my pussy directly, making me squirm because the contrast between the heat of my wet womanhood and his cold breath is evident and rushes a wave of pleasure through my body. He grabs both my legs with his big hands, opening me wide and exposing me even more to him, then goes and presses his nose right on my mound, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes while doing so.

-          You smell divine, doll. – he whispers and pecks my, still, covered mound.

 I let out an almost soundless whimper at that statement. His bed vocabulary is so vulgar, yet he makes it sound so erotic and sexy. He hooks his thumb and index finger around the waistband of my underwear and pulls it off, taking it to his nose and giving a little sniff that makes me close my eyes out of shyness. He can be so dirty, but oh so hot at the same time.

-          Open those beautiful eyes, pretty girl. I want you to look at me directly while I have this tasty dessert.

 I open my eyes, moving my body to be laying on my elbows and have a better angle to look at him, and he finally sweeps his tongue along my slit, teasing my clit with the tip once he reaches it. I look down at him, biting my lower lip and he goes back to the long strokes. Letting out a moan of protest at how slow he’s going, I grip the back of his head with one hand to make him go a little faster, deeper, harder; I don’t know, anything. Or at least I try.

-          Patience, my sweets. Marvelous things come to those who wait. – he says and licks up and down my opening a couple of times before pulling away

 Chris removes his polo shirt, exposing his tight chest muscles covered on all those sexy tattoos he has, and I find my mouth watering at the sight of his hot self. Then, he undoes his pants and pulls them down, along with his briefs, before coming back to be on top of me again.

-          I thought you wanted to taste me? – I pout and he smiles widely at me.

 -          I will, my lovely. Just wanted to get comfortable, don’t wanna mess up my pants with jizz, now do ya’? – his Boston accent comes out and I moan closing my eyes.

-          No, sir. We don’t want that – I answer in a small voice, biting my lip once again and batting my eyelashes at him because I know it drives him wild.

 He lets out a guttural groan at that and finally holds my legs, puts them on his shoulders to have better access, and dives in to eat from my wetness, like starved man. I yelp in surprise when I feel his mouth making out with my lower lips, adding his tongue to the mix, driving me completely crazy, and he wastes no time to flick my clit with the flexible muscle inside his mouth, then sucks it between his lips, making me mewl because he’s just so good.

 -          I swear you have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tried, baby. So juicy, I could spend a lifetime eating you.

 Chris keeps his wonderful mouthy work, until he makes me cum the first time, adding his fingers to the process. It’s always like this: he makes sure I’m absolutely ready to take all of him, all of what he has to offer me, making me cum at least twice with his mouth only. I know I’m in for a really long night (but no one hears me complaining about it, oh no.).

The sensitivity in my core is too much, but he’s having none of it. He keeps lapping around my opening, then goes up and creates patterns with his tongue around my nub, drawing eights and different shapes to stimulate it. I grab a hold of the back of his head, making him immediately stop his movements and leave his tongue out, and I start grinding my wetness up and down his mouth, marking the rhythm and speed to my liking. I’m seconds away from coming, and he knows it because this is what I usually do when the pleasure his mouth gives me overwhelms my senses.

After a marvelous second orgasm, he climbs on top of me again, caressing my legs and pecking every inch of skin he reaches as he goes to my kiss my mouth. He places himself on his elbows, placing them on each side of my head, and with one delicate thrust he goes all in, getting a low and long moan from me and making me cling to him with all the sentiment and passion I feel for him.

-          Fuck, baby. You’re so goddamn tight, still can’t believe this little cunt takes all of me in.

He lets out a low groan after that, being so into dirty talk, he can’t keep himself from saying the nastiest things I’ve ever heard right in my ear, which adds more lust to the situation.

Chris’ thrusts are slow but hard, taking his time to let me feel all of him inside me, making me moan and arch my back to him. He moves his arms to hold me close and still, taking his hands down to grab my ass, all while he’s still pounding into me. I grab myself with a firm grip on his shoulders, kissing him passionately as he becomes more agitated and uncoordinated, meaning he’s close.

One of his hands travel to my mound, and it doesn’t take him long to find my sensitive bundle of nerves and he starts rubbing it in swift but decided circles to bring me close to my third climax.

-          C’mon, baby. Cum for me, I can feel your tight pussy clenching around me, I’m right there with you, let’s cum together.

 The intensity of his words, the flicks on my clit and the powerful thrusts of his pelvis inside my channel, are enough to bring me to the ectasis that has been boiling inside of my lower belly, making me moan and groan out his name. The sudden tightness around his cock are what makes him go still and let a growl out of his pink and bruised mouth, releasing all of him inside my womb.

Riding me through my orgasm and his, Chris slows the pace of his thrusts, until he pulls put completely and lays all his weight on top of me, not that I mind in the slightest. I kiss his temple a couple of times, while holding him close to me, and I feel him kissing my shoulders and neck. Once our breaths are settled and calm, he rolls over to his side of the bed, bringing me with him to lay y head on his chest and interwind our lower joints. 

-          Thank you for today, love. It was amazing – I whisper against his pec and kiss him there.

 -          I should be thanking you, baby. Your gift got me even softer and weaker for you, and I thought that wasn’t even possible – he chuckles and I with him.  

-          It’s just something for you to remember me when you’re away working. 

 -          I always carry you with me, my sweet girl. And I always will- he whispers and then closes his eyes – I love you so much, honey.

 -          I love you too, big guy – I close my eyes and let sleep wash over me.

 We fall asleep like this, together, holding each other in a mix of sweat, body fluids and a promise of always loving each other. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lamptracker]

FIC: This Seat Taken? (Seo Changbin/Female Reader)

Literally the only reason I got this done was because I broke my toe and have an abundance of sitting-around time. So... yay, I suppose.

Onward.

Title: This Seat Taken?

Pairing: Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)/Female Reader

Summary: The reader finds herself falling in love with her best friend Changbin.

Warnings: A few potty words but other than that, not much really.

Author’s Note(s): This takes place in a world where A. There have only ever been eight members of Stray Kids (we do not talk about the AT&T of people) and B. Minho’s cats live in the dorms with them. 

Which brings up two questions: Why don’t Minho’s cats live in the dorms? And have they fixed that stupid curtain yet??

As per tradition I tag @jisungiesbunnie​ I keep bringing this up in the Discord lol

The very last thing you wanted was to be part of a cliche.

They were everywhere. The “enemies to lovers.” The old standby “oh my God, they were roommates.” The good old fashioned “best friends to lovers.”

You wanted absolutely no part of it.

So why were you in danger of falling prey to “best friends to lovers”?

And moreover, why were you falling hopelessly in love with Seo Changbin?

**

You met Seo Changbin at a very vulnerable time in your life.

You were sixteen years old, and it was your first day at your new high school. You knew absolutely nobody. And since you were the new kid in school, there wasn’t a soul that wanted anything to do with you. Nobody wanted to sit near you in class. Even the teachers didn’t call on you, which was super unfortunate since you totally knew the answer in your math class. That wouldn’t have stung so much if the kid she called on had gotten it right.

So, at lunch, you found a table in the far corner, nobody around for what seemed like miles. This is as good a spot as any, you thought as you settled in. 

You were partway through your cheese sandwich when you suddenly heard a deep voice say, “This seat taken?”

You looked up to find… a boy. He was short - not much taller than you were - but he had a lean yet muscular build and kind eyes.

“I don’t suppose so,” you muttered quietly.

The boy sat across the table from you. “I don’t recognize you,” he said. “Are you new?”

You nodded.

“Ah! Okay. Well, my name is Changbin, Seo Changbin?”

“(y/n),” you replied. “You’re the first person all day that’s actually said more than five words to me. And those five words have usually been get out of my way.”

Changbin scoffed. “That’s terrible. Look, some of these people can be real jerks, I-”

“Hey, Changbin! What’re you doing talking to that loser?”

The voice belonged to a boy who was in your social studies class, one who’d shoved you out of the way in the hallway to get to the lunchroom first.

“She’s not a loser, she’s just new. And she seems really nice. So if you can’t be nice to her, just go sit down.”

The boy rolled his eyes as he walked away. 

“Thank you,” you said shyly.

“No problem.” Changbin flashed you a lopsided grin; you couldn’t help giggling in response.

“I have a really hard time making friends,” you admitted. “And my family moves around for my dad’s job, that doesn’t help.”

“Well, I am honored to be your friend. I mean, if you’ll let me.”

You smiled warmly at him. “Of course.”

**

The two of you were thick as thieves after that. It wasn’t long before you were over at each others’ houses all the time - it got to the point where your mom was picking up Changbin’s favorites at the store - and texting each other constantly. You didn’t let a day go by without at least texting each other once. 

Even when you graduated from high school and went your separate ways - you went off to college, studying communications and mass marketing; he auditioned for a new K-Pop group that was forming - you made sure to talk every day.

You were there for each other when times were good - when you got accepted to your dream school, when Changbin was selected for Stray Kids. And when times were bad - Changbin was really down when Minho was eliminated, you’d had to have knee surgery right after you graduated college, and let’s not forget every failed girlfriend he’d had and every failed boyfriend you’d racked up.

He helped you find your job, too. You were six months out of college and still hadn’t found a job yet.

“I’m starting to think I majored in the wrong thing,” you lamented to Changbin over coffee one afternoon. “I loved my studies, but I just can’t seem to land even an interview. I thought communications was a growing industry, but…”

“I’m so sorry,” Changbin replied. “Let me see what I can do.”

“What you can do?” you echoed. “What can you do?”

“Give me a week,” he assured you. Shrugging, you turned back to your coffee.

“My mom wants me to join a temp agency,” you said. “If you can’t find something for me by this time next week, I’m going to.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Two days later, you’d gotten a call from an administrative assistant at JYPE. Your resume came across their desk, see, and looking over your credentials they thought you’d be perfect for a job that just opened up. Well, have you ever heard of the new group, Stray Kids? You’d be their assistant, pretty much. JYPE would book appearances and organize tours; you would be responsible for booking flights and hotels and meal reservations and whatnot. You would also live in the dorm with them - you’d get your own room, of course, far away from the rest of the guys (they’re all nice but Chan snores, a lot of them are talkers and Minho curses in his sleep). You might be asked to do a little light housekeeping, maybe cook on occas-

“I’ll take it!” you exclaimed. 

The assistant laughed. “You don’t even know how much we’re paying you.”

“Don’t care,” you replied. “I’ve been jobless for half a year, and I have student loans. I’ll take it.”

Later that afternoon, you were enjoying a cup of coffee at your favorite shop, looking over the email from JYPE detailing your contract.

“This seat taken?”

“Seo Changbin! You did it, you son of a bitch.”

“Did what?” Changbin sat across from you and took a sip of his coffee, thoroughly confused.

You chuckled. “JYPE called me today. I’m going to be Stray Kids’ official assistant. I’ll be booking flights and hotels for appearances and the tour, I’ll be living with you guys and-”

“What!” Changbin rose from his seat and ran around to your side of the table, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “That’s amazing! I thought they’d just get you a job in the office or answering fanmail or something, I wasn’t expecting that!” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Okay, um. Fair bit of warning about the guys’ sleeping habits, uh-”

“They told me about a couple. Uh… Chan snores and Minho swears in his sleep.”

“Hyunjin and Jisung talk in their sleep,” Changbin added. “Felix always has to be hugging someone or something. Seungmin always, just, screams right as he falls asleep. Jeongin’s a sleepwalker, that’s super fun. We had to put like four locks on the door, we lock every other one because he just goes down the line and thinks he’s unlocking all of them. And-”

“You talk in your sleep too,” you finished. “Most of the time you’re looking for something or you’re lost, but I have definitely heard you do it.”

Changbin looked slightly wounded. “I was going to say I don’t think I do anything, but… okay, I guess.”

You laughed. “Hey, um, thanks. For helping me out. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” He squeezed your shoulder again before sliding out of the booth.

**

Some people who fall hopelessly in love with their best friend will tell you they can’t pinpoint the exact reason why they fell in love. 

You can, though.

It was a year after you first moved into the dorm… and it was all Lee Minho’s fault.

You were going through the bedrooms, gathering up laundry.

“Just once,” you muttered to yourself, “if these morons could get their underpants in the vicinity of the hamper, I’d be happy.”

“They’re not mine.”

You jumped, nearly bonking the top of your head on the top bunk of one of the beds. “Damn it, Minho, you scared the crap out of me.”

Minho chuckled quietly. “Sorry. How’s it going?”

“Peachy. I’m so glad I went to college so I could clean up after a bunch of overgrown children.”

“Oh, come on. We’re not that bad, are we?”

You laughed. “No. I’m just… I guess I’m grouchy today, that’s all. Didn’t sleep well last night. I actually really do like this job, I’m grateful that Changbin helped me get it.”

Minho nodded slightly. “He's going out again tonight?”

“Yep. This girl he met at the grocery store, Ha-Rin? That might be right, I’m not sure. I can’t keep track anymore.”

“Wow,” Minho said. “He’s been really unlucky in the girls department lately, hasn’t he?”

“He really has, I don’t get it.”

“Do you think… do you think they’re jealous of you?”

You shrugged. “It’s possible. I’m a girl who lives with him and has been friends with him for years. Plus I am a snack.” You made a passing motion over your body. “Who wouldn’t be jealous of this?”

Minho laughed loudly. “I might be out of line here, and feel free to punch me for it, but… but do you ever get jealous of them?”

You wrinkled your nose in confusion. “What?”

“I mean, you guys have been friends since you were sixteen. You’ve never wondered what it was like to date him?”

You scoffed. “No! Absolutely not. He’s my best friend, that would be so weird. Like dating my brother or something, gross.”

Minho laughed again, raising his hands in a sort-of defensive gesture. “Okay! Sorry I brought it up.”

But that night, you had a weird dream. You were at your senior prom (in real life, you and Changbin had skipped it to have a Marvel movie marathon). You were wearing a beautiful royal blue dress, with sequins - not too many, just enough to make it classy. 

You were slow dancing with… someone. You couldn’t tell who. It was dark, and your arms were wrapped around their neck, your head nestled on their shoulder; their arms were wrapped firmly around your waist. 

“Close your eyes,” a soft, yet vaguely familiar voice whispered.

You did; the person holding you unwrapped one arm from your waist, tipped your chin up, and gently pressed their lips to yours. You quickly melted into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to them as the kiss deepened slightly.

The other person pulled away slowly; you opened your eyes…

...and found yourself staring at none other than Changbin.

You sat up with a start, and you were a side sleeper, so you nearly fell out of bed.

“God damn you, Minho,” you muttered as you pulled the blanket over your head. “I can’t tell him. I can never tell him. I don’t want to lose his friendship.”

So you made two solemn vows: You vowed to punch Lee Minho in the face the next time you saw him, and you vowed never to tell Changbin how you felt about him. 

You settled for giving Minho a dirty look over breakfast the next morning. As for the other thing, well...

**

Every time Changbin had a new girlfriend, your heart dropped ever-so-slightly in your chest. And always twice: Once, when he’d first start dating her; and once, when she broke up with him.

It was practically identical every single time: He would meet a girl. He would rush into the living room, a big smile plastered on his face, and exclaim: “I met the most amazing girl!” He would list off her qualities - pretty, smart, funny, ordered the same obscure thing from the Thai place that he liked, etc. They’d start dating. He’d come home after their third date and proclaim: “I think she might be The One, y’know? She’s - oh, wipe that look off your face, Lee Minho; I mean it this time.” Things would go really well for a brief amount of time. The longest was five months; the shortest, two weeks. 

And when it inevitably went south, that was practically identical every single time as well. He’d trudge through the door, kick off his shoes, slump down on the couch, and say: “Okay, Minho, you can say I told you so now.” 

Minho would always refrain, to his credit, except for when Changbin and Ha-Rin (the grocery store girl) broke up; he did not like Ha-Rin. That was a really long story. But let’s just say if cats think you’re evil, so will Minho; and his cats absolutely hated Ha-Rin. (Especially Dori, and Dori loves everybody.)

Anyway, after giving Minho the chance to gloat (which, as previously mentioned, he only did once), Changbin would give you a Look™ and you would follow him into your room. The other guys knew not to bother you in there, so it was a safe place. He’d slump down onto the bed and smile sadly at you while patting the space next to him.  

“This seat taken?” you’d ask, mimicking one of his favorite lines. He would shake his head ever-so-slightly. And you’d sit, and open your arms, and he’d fall into them, sobbing all the while.

Sometimes, he would tell you why they broke up with him. They were all terrible reasons, too: Just wanted to see what it was like to date an Idol. Wanted to make their ex jealous. Needed a date to this work/school/family thing. Just trying to get closer to Chan (twice), Hyunjin (four times), Jeongin (three times), Minho’s cats (once; that girl was weird). In at least one case, it was because of you. (That was why he and Ha-Rin broke up; he never told you that was why, but she did. Seems she made him choose between her or being friends with you and he picked you. Of course, you’d never tell him you knew.)

And every single time, your heart shattered right along with his, because you knew that you would never do this to him. So why didn’t he know that?

**

Those feelings only solidified the night you got dumped.

You had been dating Daeshim for roughly eight months or so. You’d met at the grocery store, and were immediately drawn to him. In hindsight, you admittedly pulled a Changbin: You fell for him, hard and fast. The two of you were practically inseparable. You’d kissed on the third date, he said “I love you” after a month, you were already making plans for you future house (try to find something within a few miles of the dorms), your wedding (he didn’t bat an eye when you said that instead of bridesmaids, you wanted your eight roommates to stand up with you), even your kids’ names (Nabi for a girl, Yu-jun for a boy). He not only wasn’t jealous of the fact that you lived with eight men, he embraced it. “They were here before I was,” he’d said, “so why would that bother me?”

Daeshim was your person.

Until… he wasn’t.

The guys were all at the studio, practicing choreography for their upcoming music video, so you were home alone. Perfect environment for wallowing.

You were on the couch, curled up in a giant blanket, sobbing so hard that at one point you were afraid you’d cry your brain right out of your nose. You were a hot mess - your hair was disheveled, your eyes and nose were red and puffy, your face was wet with tears and sweat and God knows what else. You did not look cute.

And, naturally, that was the moment Changbin came home.

“Oh, no, hey,” he said softly. “Did something happen with you and Daeshim?”

You nodded hastily.

“Want me to make the other guys go away for a bit?”

You shook your head. “They’re okay.”

“Well… do you want to go to your room? We can talk there.”

You sniffled as you reached for the box of tissues. “Okay.”

Changbin helped you off the couch and gingerly led you to your room as the other guys came spilling into the living room. Felix started to ask what was going on, but Changbin just shook his head and silently mouthed I’ll tell you later.

Changbin carefully helped you onto the bed. Reversing the roles slightly, you smiled sadly at him and patted the seat next to you.

Changbin couldn’t help but smile a small smile as he said, “This seat taken?” You shook your head; he settled down next to you. “Okay, what’s going on?”

You opened your mouth to tell him what had happened, but a loud sob came out instead.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Changbin soothed as he wrapped his arms around you. “Take your time, tell me when you’re ready.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest as a fresh wave of tears came. Changbin said nothing, just held you as you cried, occasionally rubbing soothing circles over your back.

Finally, you sat up and took a deep breath. “He cheated on me.”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “He did what now?”

“I caught him,” you explained. “I went to the coffee shop down the street to get a drink and one of those croissants with the chocolate in the middle, you know? And I did a little work while I was there, too, figured it’d be nice to get out for a bit. Anyway, I walked out to come home and… and I saw them.”

“Oh, no.”

Just when you thought you had no tears left, an altogether new supply started welling up in your eyes. “He met someone at work,” you said. “They were put on a project together, they got to talking, one thing led to another. He says he loves me but he loved them too and he couldn’t choose. So… you know… I chose for him.”

“And this person still wants to date him?”

“Went back to the cafe to get my laptop charger, saw them kissing when I came back out.”

“Ugh. Wow, (y/n), I’m so sorry.”

You snorted as you tightened your grip around his waist, resting your head on his chest again. “Usually this is the other way around, I’m the one consoling you after a breakup. Must be nice for you to have the situation reversed for a switch.”

“Actually, it kills me to see you like this. You don’t deserve that, I mean nobody does, but especially you. You are amazing, you know that? You’re sweet, you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, you’re completely hilarious. You’ve done two things that I thought were impossible, you can out-drink Jisung and you can out-weird Seungmin. And, do you even know how pretty you are? Daeshim fucked up, and royally at that. Any guy would be so lucky to have you.”

You couldn’t help but smile through your tears at his words. But, you knew they were just that: words. He didn’t really feel that way about you. He was just trying to make you feel better.

Or was he?

Nonetheless, he only liked you as a friend, as far as you knew, and he was just helping lift your spirits.

He was successful at that, but he was even more successful at making you fall even deeper in love with him. The feelings you thought you’d gotten rid of when you and Daeshim started dating not only resurfaced, but intensified.

You sighed deeply, finally allowing yourself to relax in Changbin’s arms. His grip was firm but not too tight, just enough to make you feel safe and protected. He didn’t say anything else, he just allowed you to relax; occasionally he’d give you a gentle squeeze. Before too long, you were dozing.

It was only slightly weird that it was one of the best nights of sleep you’d ever had.

You woke up late the next morning, alone, but there was a glass of juice and two muffins on the bedside table. Had to go to practice, the handwritten note under the glass read. Sorry I couldn’t be here to have breakfast with you, so I figured I’d at least feed you. They’re blueberry muffins, Felix baked them fresh this morning. Take the day off if you need to, I’ll explain everything if JYP asks. Please call if you need anything.

Love, Binnie

You smiled softly to yourself as you bit into one of the muffins. Changbin was so sweet, and wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Just like a good friend should.

You scoffed slightly. Friend. That was all he’d ever be. Better get used to it...

**

Not long after you and Daeshim broke up, Changbin started dating this girl he’d met… somewhere. You didn’t know. Or, honestly, care. But her name was Min Jee, and she was way different from the other girls he's dated. She was pretty for sure, but she was funny and sweet and everything Changbin had been looking for. (And Minho’s cats? Adored her.)

Plus, she didn’t seem to be threatened by you in the slightest, so that was a definite plus.

You tried so hard to be happy for them. You even went out for coffee with Min Jee a few times, just the two of you, while the guys were practicing. That whole funny and sweet thing was no act - she really was that nice and that hilarious. She was touched that you wanted to be your friend, and you could have been her best friend, except for the fact that you guys had one thing in common: You were both madly in love with her boyfriend.

Two months into their relationship, the dynamic changed. 

“You’re home early,” you said as Changbin gently closed the door behind him. “I didn’t expect you back until later, how’s Min Jee?”

“We broke up.” Changbin hung his keys by the door and started into the kitchen.

You sighed. “Oh, Binnie, again? I am so sorry this keeps happening to you.”

Changbin shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, you know?”

For some reason - to this day, you have no idea why - but for some reason, this was the moment you finally snapped.

“You know, you go out with a lot of girls,” you started. “You always fall for them really quickly, and really hard. And you always end up single again after a few weeks. And it - you know what, Changbin? It breaks my heart, it really does. I thought Min Jee was different, but looks like I was wrong, you know? It absolutely breaks my heart to see this happen to you over and over and over again, because you deserve so much better than that. You deserve someone that truly loves you for who you are, not just because you’re an idol. You deserve someone who cares about you, who’s there for you when things are rough, who just… who loves you with every fiber of her being. I can almost guarantee that there’s not a single girl out there who can be even a fraction of those things, who can even come close to loving you as much as I do.”

Changbin’s eyes grew wide as your rant came to a close. He just stared at you for a moment, jaw slack, not saying a word…

...and that was the moment when your brain realized what your mouth had done.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

You know that thing you were never ever ever EVER going to tell him? That thing you were going to take to the grave with you?

Yeah, you just realized your greatest fear: You opened your mouth, and out it went. 

Look, brain, you said to yourself. You can beat me up in a minute, okay? For now, though…

“I have to get out of here,” you said. You turned around and ran out the door, not even bothering to pull it closed behind you. You ran out the front door of the dorms, down the street, to the park just at the end of the block. You didn’t stop running until you reached the small pond near the back of the park - not too many people knew about this pond. It was small and clean and had a bench off to one side of it, facing the water. 

Changbin found it one day, not long after he’d moved into the dorms. It was the perfect place to go to catch a breath of fresh air. He brought you here not long after you’d moved in; the two of you came here often to talk about things you didn’t want the other guys to overhear.

You slumped down on the bench, buried your head in your hands, and started sobbing.

Do your worst, brain, you said. I deserve it.

Of course you do, moron. How could you say that? How could you tell him you love him? There is no possible way he loves you back, you know that, right? You’re probably responsible for him being dumped so many times anyway, they’re all jealous of you. Even Min Jee, she didn’t REALLY like you. She was pretending, for his sake. He just hasn’t figured that out yet. You know what you just did, right? You ruined any chance of a romantic relationship with him, and not only that you’ve completely ruined your friendship. You are such a…

“This seat taken?”

You didn’t answer, instead you kept sobbing quietly into your hands. You thought that maybe if you ignored him, didn’t acknowledge his presence, he’d just… go away.

Weight settling onto the other end of the short bench told you that he did not just go away.

You heard Changbin heave a deep sigh before he started speaking. “Min Jee didn’t break up with me. I broke up with her. Uh, it was the most insane thing that set it off, too. Um, she was telling me all about her day. She always tells me all about her day. And she was telling me about her day, like she always does, and I caught myself thinking: Wow, I really do not care about this even a little bit.” Changbin chuckled quietly to himself before continuing. “I didn’t want to hear about her day. You know whose day I really wanted to hear about? Yours. Min Jee and I were together for two months and I was already tired of hearing about her day. I’ve talked to you every day since we were 16, and I never get tired of hearing about yours. Not even after you started living with us, and I got to see you every day. And I got to thinking: I have dated a lot of girls. But I think about them, even the ones I thought I loved, and I realize something: not one of them would have my back when things would be bad. When my anxiety is too high, none of them would have helped. When I felt like I had a bad performance, they’d just shrug and talk about themselves. Sure, they were pretty, and funny, and smart. But none of them cared about me the same way you do. Not even Min Jee.”

You raised your head, gently wiping your nose. “What are you trying to say, Changbin?”

Changbin gently grasped one of your hands in both of his. “I’m trying to say… I’m definitely saying that I love you too.”

Another tear slipped out of your eye as you stared at him. You tried to wrap your head around the ridiculousness of this situation:

Seo Changbin, the boy you loved and was sure did not love you back, just told you he loved you back.

Take THAT, brain.

“Um… really?” was all you could manage. 

Changbin smiled softly at you; your heart fluttered in your chest. “Really. And you… you really love me?”

“Yes.” You were taken aback a bit by how quickly and effortlessly you answered the question.

Changbin’s grip on your hand tightened ever-so-slightly. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, almost shyly.

“I’d really like that.”

He let go of your hand and cupped your cheeks in his hands, carefully wiping your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. He leaned in, licking his lips slightly before pressing them to yours.

You had dreamed of kissing him before. But even your dreams couldn’t have prepared you for the real thing, how wonderful and warm and sweet it was.

His lips were smooth and dry against yours; they parted slightly as one of his hands moved down to your waist. His other hand stayed cupped against your cheek, thumb lightly brushing your cheekbone. As the kiss deepened, you could feel him pour every emotion he’d been repressing - love, mostly, but also a sense of tenderness and longing - into it. 

Changbin broke the kiss, pulling back from you; he was smiling softly and looking at you as if you were the only other person on Earth.

Not even Daeshim had looked at you like that.

“Uh… wow,” you breathed. 

“Yeah,” he replied, “wow.”

You smiled back at him, resting a hand on his knee, and you leaned in to kiss him again when a sudden stiff breeze rustled through the surrounding trees. You shivered involuntarily.

“Cold?” he asked.

You nodded. “Can we go home?”

“Sure.” He stood first, gently pulling you to a standing position. You walked back to the dorms, hand-in-hand; before you left the park, he asked: “So, how was your day?”

You grinned as you told him all about your day. And he was smiling the entire time.

**

When the two of you got back to the dorms, it sure looked like you were alone. Changbin settled down on the couch; smiling up at you, he patted his lap.

“This seat taken?” you asked, a goofy grin plastered on his face. Changbin just raised an eyebrow as he grabbed you around the waist, pulling you into his lap. He lightly tickled your sides as you laughed, trying to settle into his lap but squirming instead.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be nice,” he said, gently kissing your cheek. “I’m so glad I finally get to hold you this way.”

“Me too.”

“You really weren’t going to say anything?”

“Were you?”

“Fair point, I guess… didn’t want to mess up the friendship either, huh?”

“You are correct, sir.”

A short pause, then: “Only one of them broke up with me because of you, you know.”

“Ha-Rin, yeah. She told me. That was totally unfair of her to make you choose.”

“She told you? She swore me to secrecy and then she told you?”

“Wanted to make me feel guilty, I suppose.” You shrugged. “Didn’t work, I hated her guts. I was never happy to see you get dumped, except when Ha-Rin dumped you.”

“Yeah, that was the only time Minho said I told you so, too.” Changbin chuckled, shaking his head. “You know what, though? None of that matters anymore, now that I’ve got you.”

You hummed happily, leaning back slightly in his arms. “You’re right. But I am dying to know what that one girl was thinking.”

“Which one?”

“Dating you to get closer to the cats?”

Changbin laughed. “Some things, you just never find out.” He nuzzled the side of your neck. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too, Binnie.” You turned your head, letting his lips connect with yours. Just as the kiss was starting to deepen, you heard the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.

You turned your head away… and there were Changbin’s seven band members, all arms crossed, staring down at you.

Changbin grinned sheepishly at them as you waved and said, “Hey, fellas.” Chan started to open his mouth, but you cut him off. “Since I know you guys, and I’m reasonably sure you guys had money riding on this situation, I’ll just settle the main bet and the prop bets. I told him first, extremely by accident but it was me. He broke up with Min Jee because he felt the same way, but that happened before I told him, not because of it. He kissed me first,  and… that should settle it, right?”

“Pay up, suckers.” Jeongin held out a hand as the other guys groaned and reached for their wallets.

“How did you know he was going to break it off with Min Jee but (y/n) would be the one to say it first?!” Jisung grumbled.

“I didn’t, I just guessed.” Jeongin shrugged. “Your money, sir?”

“Go buy yourself something nice,” Jisung said. “Anyway, now that that’s out of the way…I’m really happy for you guys, I really am. Even if you did cost me 20,000 won.”

The rest of the guys nodded in agreement, a few offering their congratulations.

“Look, we’ll leave you two kids alone, if that’s what you want?” Chan said, almost awkwardly.

“Nah, you guys have the living room.” You climbed out of Changbin’s lap, offering him your hand; he took it and you helped him stand. “We’ll just go make out in my room.”

Changbin laughed as you led him down the hallway. “Awfully presumptuous, aren’t we?”

“Look, I know what I want.” You pulled your door shut behind you. “And right now, I want to kiss you.” 

Changbin smiled as you sat down on your bed. “This seat taken?”

“Just get down here.” You pulled the front of his shirt; he fell onto the bed, hovering over you. 

“God, you’re amazing.” He leaned down, closing the gap between your mouths.

You cannot believe you were just never going to tell him how you felt. But now, as his hand slid up to your stomach, you are more than happy you did.

Was that a cliche? Of course it was. But a cliche was making you blissfully happy, so you didn’t seem to mind it so much.

[taetaemilktea]

Chicken Noodle Soup with Tea on the Side

Part 2 to “Bring the Soup”

Summary: Following their life-changing yet draining Love Yourself world tour, Bangtan returns home with three very sick members. Hoseok and Yoongi have caught Taehyung’s miserable cold, but are lucky that the other members offer the best caretaking with lots of soup, tissues, and cuddles.

Sickies: Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung

Caretakers: Seokjin, Namjoon, Jimin, Jungkook

Word Count: 2262

Author’s Note: Hi!! Huge thanks to @snifflyjoonie and @chickennoodlej-hope for encouraging me to write a part 2! I hope you all like it!

~~~~~

Namjoon moans quietly with his eyes closed, turning up the volume on his “Relaxing Deep Sleep Sounds” playlist to full blast. It is a futile attempt to lull himself to sleep, as it isn’t very soothing or sleep-inducing to have anything played at full volume through one’s AirPods. He gives it five minutes before he groans and rolls over, pulling the blanket up and over his head, failing to block out any extraneous sounds. Five more minutes, and he gives up on sleeping all together, throwing the blanket off and over his lap as he huffs in annoyance.

How is anyone supposed to sleep when the soft and calming whirring of the airplane’s jets are constantly being interrupted by a volley of coughs and sniffles? For the last two hours since take-off from Paris back to Korea, Namjoon has been listening to Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung trading off, like clockwork, each coughing and giving a series of nose blows one after the other. Every. Goddamn. Minute. And it is driving Namjoon slightly insane as he aims to get some much needed sleep after the end of their exciting but grueling world tour.

He relaxes slightly, however, upon looking over at Yoongi’s tired eyes as the rapper stares lazily at his phone in the dim cabin lights. Yoongi has on a large beanie and is bundled up in a warm blanket in his seat on the private jet. He continues to give soft yet rough coughs, muffling them into the blanket that he had grabbed to warm his chills. Yoongi is generally a quiet person, never one for dramatics or theatrics when it came to anything, really. But if Namjoon wasn’t mistaken, he hasn’t heard Yoongi mutter a word since the group arrived to the airport that morning. He imagines that his fellow songwriter must be suffering from one hell of a sore throat. Namjoon misses Yoongi’s gummy smile.

Next to Yoongi, Hoseok sits watching a movie. Namjoon can tell he isn’t quite paying attention though. Seokjin had placed his beloved RJ plush on Hoseok’s lap when he had started the film, hoping it might cheer him up. But now, RJ is pushed to the side of the seat in favor of a tissue box. Hoseok, as much as he loved watching movies on flights, is constantly forced to focus on blowing his nose instead. Used tissues litter the floor. Namjoon knows his poor 94-liner must be feeling exhausted and groggy, as Hoseok is the God of Cleanliness in the group. On any normal day, Hoseok would’ve shrieked to find used tissues anywhere but in the trash can where germs belonged.

Across the aisle, Taehyung has his head laid on Jimin’s shoulder. Too congested to breathe through his nose, he is forced to breathe warm, heavy breaths out of his mouth, drying out his lips. Jimin pulls a stick of chapstick out of his pocket and carefully applies it for him. Jimin knows Taehyung is thankful by the way he nestles his feverish forehead against Jimin’s neck. All he wants is for Taehyung to sleep, or at least manage a short nap. Every time he doses off, he sputters awake as the congestion in his nose makes it harder and harder to breathe.

The group is in bad shape. Namjoon wasn’t surprised when Yoongi and Hoseok admitted to catching Taehyung’s cold. He had walked in on the three of them sleeping in a hotel bed together and, while that definitely hadn’t been the most ideal given the members’ already weakening immune systems from the constant travel, knew that Hobi and Yoongi had done it to keep Tae company. Namjoon remembers Taehyung’s tear-stricken face at the end of their show in Paris and is honestly glad that Hobi and Yoongi had been willing to stay with him.

Thankfully, the group is on their way home. Soon, the three sick members can lay down in their own beds, take their medicine, and sleep to their hearts’ content. Until then, Namjoon wants his own sleep. He is exhausted. It isn’t easy being a leader on a world tour.

He rummages in his bag for some cough drops.

“Yoongi-ah...” he murmurs.

Yoongi looks up from his phone and is grateful to see Namjoon handing him the bag. He nods his thanks, pulling one out and handing the bag to Hoseok. He tosses it to Jimin, who grabs one and opens it, sliding it into Taehyung’s mouth. The bag finally makes its way back to Joon.

He smiles, glad to be helping his members and to hopefully be getting some sleep soon. Namjoon is so grateful when the coughing dies down in minutes as the three sick boys let the warm menthol ease their sore throats.

Namjoon curls back into his seat under the blanket and closes his eyes. His muscles relax and he sighs contently.

Sadly, the menthol makes its way into Taehyung’s congested and hypersensitive nose.

“Hh’TSCHHh!! Hh’!... HhETSSHH’huH!! hHAASHHh!!”

Gosh, this is going to be long flight.

-

The flight is long indeed, and rather somber as the world tour excitement wears off and is replaced with a light post-concert, post-travel sadness. It happens every time—it is nothing new.

But this time more than ever, Yoongi just wants to lay in his own bed, in his own room, and sleep. He craves the ability to drift off and rid himself of the buzzing headache and constantly running nose. He trudges alongside the group and their staff, doing his best to show smiling, shiny eyes behind his mask as they walk through Incheon airport to their awaiting cars.

He is oblivious to Seokjin trailing closely behind him, watching his every step as if Yoongi might crumble any moment. Jimin does the same to Taehyung, while Jungkook walks with his arm over Hoseok’s shoulders to keep him steady.

At reaching their cars, they mindlessly split into two groups, the maknae line in one, the hyung line in the other.

In moments after the car has pulled out onto the streets, Hoseok’s head has lulled to the side, falling onto Namjoon’s shoulder. The leader smiles to himself as his friend’s breath transforms into light, congested snoring.

“He’s out,” he murmurs, and Seokjin turns around from the front seat to look.

“I’m jealous,” Yoongi mumbles from the seat next to them, his warm forehead pressed against the cold glass window of the SUV.

“Don’t worry, Yoongi-ah. We’re almost home,” Seokjin gives a look of empathy. His naturally goofy and upbeat demeanor is diminished by the hurt he feels for his sick friends.

“hHESHHhuh!” Yoongi responds with a heavy sneeze and a groan of pain.

-

In the other car, Taehyung has hit rock bottom of the miserable cold. He is laid across Jungkook’s lap, head resting on the maknae’s large thigh. His throbbing headache is from thick congestion, which has sat with him throughout the entirety of the flight despite how many times he aimed to blow his nose. His fever rages, not at all helped by the transition from the warm plane to the chilly airport to the heated car. It makes him feel cloudy, and he hasn’t spoken a word to anyone in hours.

As a sad and clingy sickie, his only comforts are Jimin and Jungkook’s hands running through his hair and rubbing circles on his back. He wants cuddles. He wants Yeontan. He wants to hear Yoongi’s Daegu dialect telling him he’ll feel better soon.

-

It’s a day and a half later. The sounds of soft, shuffling feet pull Yoongi from his sleep on the couch. He gives a soft sigh and nestles further into the couch cushions, sniffling lightly as his nose had started to run while he napped. He can’t tell what time it is, but knows he has hardly passed the threshold of a satisfactory nap. The pounding headache and sore throat that he developed a few days ago are still bothering him, exhaustion from the Europe tour and his cold compounding into hours spent in bed.

Pulling the blankets more tightly over his shoulder, Yoongi keeps his eyes closed as the feet shuffle behind the couch and towards the kitchen. They stop suddenly, followed by a sharp intake of breath, and a quick fit of stifled sneezes.

“Hh!—hH’tsCH! h’ngTXxt! haH-tSCh!!”

The last one tumbles out.

“hHAT‘Shiiew!!”

“... bless you.” Yoongi mumbles into the blanket. Hoseok jumps a foot in the air.

“Aish, Yoongi-ah!” He peers over the back of the couch and down onto Yoongi. He still has his eyes closed.

“What?” Another soft mumble.

“I didn’t know you were there! What are you doing on the couch?”

“... Taking a nap?”

Hobi rolls his eyes, but walks over and sits on the couch. He grabs a tissue from the table and blows his now dripping nose.

“Yeah, but shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Yoongi pops an eye over to look up at Hobi.

“I’ve been in bed. For two straight days...” he quips, followed by a few rough coughs. Normally, he’d marvel at the ability to spend hours in bed napping, but the sore throat, body aches, and harsh sneezes were beginning to make him grumpy.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? Why are you creeping around anyway?”

“I was trying to keep quiet. Taehyung is sleeping and I didn’t want to wake him,” Hoseok scrubs at his tired eyes.

“He’s sick, Hoba. He could sleep through anything. Namjoonie dropped a glass yesterday, and he didn’t even flinch from his spot on the couch.”

Hoseok giggled at their leader’s clumsy but endearing habits.

“I just wanted to make some lunch. I’m hungry.”

“Hungry?” Seokjin walks into the room carrying a small box of cold medicine. “Hyung will cook you something.”

“Soup?” A raspy voice appears behind Seokjin. Taehyung shuffles in with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his hair a floppy mess. His voice has started to come back, but his rough, frequent sneezes continue to rip through his throat, minimizing any progress.

“Aren’t you tired of soup, Taehyung-ah? You’ve been eating soup for four days in a row.” Seokjin chuckles.

“I’m not tired of your soup, hyung. It’s the best.”

The eldest’s ears blush red, not uncommon when he receives complements.

“Chicken noodle soup?” Seokjin asks as Taehyung sits next to Hobi and hugs him, wrapping them both with the blanket he had around his shoulders.

“With a soda on the side?” Hobi giggles at the idea of his own song, forcing himself into a coughing fit.

“No, tea,” Seokjin replies, making his caretaker mode clear.

“Ha, says the man who thought drinking alcohol would cleanse his throat when he had a cold,” Yoongi raises an eyebrow in a teasing manner, hinting at the livestream in which Jin and Jimin had exposed the alcohol they had stashed in their hotel room.

“Yah, I knew what I was doing. And it helped—my sore throat went away!” Seokjin defended.

“Good, I’m going to drink some liquor then,” Yoongi states. Jin face palms.

“Seokjin-hyung is right, you should all be drinking tea,” Namjoon walks in after hearing his friends’ light bickering. “Tea will make you feel better. I’ll make it for you while Jin-hyung makes soup,” he nodded towards Seokjin, and the two moved to the kitchen to prepare the items for their sick members.

Before Yoongi has any time to drift off back to sleep, Joon and Seokjin walk over with bowls of soup and teacups filled with warm, lemon-honey tea on trays. Seokjin places each individual bowl and teacup on the small coffee table in the center of the room while Namjoon is tasked with dealing out cold medicine. In moments, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Taehyung are all quietly sipping broth, the steam rising and making their noses run.

Jimin and Jungkook return just in time from the gym and from stopping by the store. They carry bags flowing with tissues, cough drops, and vapor rub. Yoongi, Hoseok, and Taehyung thank their fellow members for their endless support, feeling drowsy as they finish their meals and let the cold medicine work it’s magic.

Namjoon plops down on the floor and opens a book while the others gather together on the couches. He begins reading, engrossed in the plot. He finishes a chapter and looks up to find everyone asleep together.

Yoongi lays in his usual curled up position on his side. Jin had sat on the floor with his back against the couch and had fallen asleep with his head leaning back next to Yoongi’s. The two eldest members share the pillow, Yoongi’s cheek smushed into it while Jin’s head laid on the corner.

Hoseok and Jungkook lay cuddled together on the opposite couch. It was no secret that Jungkook loved the smell of his Hobi-hyung. Hoseok had washed his hair earlier that morning in hopes of de-muddling his brain and de-congesting his nose. Jungkook sniffed in the fragrant scent of his shampoo and conditioner and had fallen asleep with Hobi in his arms.

Namjoon is not surprised to see Taehyung and Jimin bundled together in a heap of blankets. Taehyung has his arms wrapped around his soulmate and nose buried in Jimin’s neck. Tired from his gym session with the maknae, Jimin had fallen asleep in moments, happy to give Taehyung all the cuddles he needed.

Namjoon chuckles at the sight of his team, his forever family, happily dozing together and getting proper rest. Two more chapters, he tells himself, before he will wake Seokjin to make dinner for the healthy members and to serve Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung—surprise—soup.

[tazzytypes]

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 17

Authors note: Hey guys! Sorry, had to delete and repost this chapter because Tumblr is, once again, giving me difficulties. Just want to thank y'all so much for being patient with me as I finished up with classes. Hoping these next few months will give me more time to work on this fic. As always, your comments and likes always make my day and help me get through the worst of writer's block and I cannot thank you enough for that!

READ MORE on AO3 or see the Master post!

When the witches got back to the academy, the sun had barely risen above the horizon. Emily hadn’t realized how accustomed she had become to the usual hustle and bustle; the silence was nearly as stinging as the constant noise.

They were all dead on their feet. After hell, sleep had eluded Emily. The fact Madison had forced her to sleep on the ground didn’t help… neither did the darkness. It was suffocating, that place. Sometimes she was afraid the underground fortress would become her tomb. They had all tried to catch up on sleep during the plane ride home, but Misty snored so much it made the feat nearly impossible.

So, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, the witches made their way through the door. Zoe grumbled about canceling classes, Cordelia muttering an agreement.

“A break? Already?” Coco said. She stood next to Mallory by the stairs, looking more like butlers than students. The pair must have been the only ones awake, looking to one other and smiling at a silent inside joke. “I like this school.”

“I trust there were no disturbances while we were away?” Myrtle asked, handing off her bags to Kyle who proceeded to take them up the stairs.

If Mallory were a bird, Emily would have said she was preening, “No more than usual.”

Kyle paused by Emily for a moment, hand extended, but she waved him forward. Kyle smiled and nodded, proceeding past them and towards the stairs.

“Oh, lover-boy,” Madison sang as he began to take the first step, pulling Emily’s attention away from Mallory and their headmistress, “my bags?

The blond man hesitated, then doubled back. He rearranged the bags on his arm and picked up the ex-movie star’s numerous suitcases, all either Chanel or some other overpriced name brand.

“You have two arms,” Zoe snapped at the woman, her own bag in hand. Emily’s gaze flickered to the floor, green eyes darting between it, Cordelia, and the scene unfurling before her.

“It’s fine,” Kyle said quietly, giving a pointed look at Zoe, “It’s my job.”

The look seemed to soothe Zoe, her shoulders tense but her back no longer arched like she was about to swing at Madison. Madison opened her mouth, unable to resist not having the last word.

A body barreling into her side kept Emily from hearing exactly what was spoken. By the look on Zoe’s face, it was nothing good.

“Oh, I missed you!” Coco exclaimed, squeezing the girl in a hug. Emily did her best not to tense, but the reaction was second nature to the brunette. “How was California?”

“Dry,” Emily said, earning a chuckle from Coco.

“Obviously you didn’t go to the beach,” Coco said, “How did it go?”

The brunette’s eyes darted to the figure moving towards them, continuing to speak as Mallory approached. For some reason, Emily had expected her and Cordelia’s talk to last longer. She settled in to place beside Coco, listening with an attentive grin.

“We’re all in one piece,” Emily said, looking back to Coco, “so I’d say rather well.”

Mallory reached out and squeezed Emily’s arm, her ever-present grin widening ever slightly. “See? I knew you’d do great!”

“Who’s this, Firefly?”

Misty had always got possessive a little too quickly. It was her vice, clinging to things too tightly. Her mother used to call her a “little python…” the snake in the garden of Eden.

Emily faltered ever slightly. As someone who kept to herself, she was more used to being the one introduced, not the one introducing.

“Coco, Mallory,” She spoke, glancing between the two girls and her new acquaintance, “Misty Day.”

Mallory rushed forward to shake the woman’s hand as if she were meeting Stevie Nicks instead of a girl from the swamplands of Mississippi.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Miss Cordelia. You’re a legend here!”

Misty pulled her shawl in tighter and glanced between Mallory and Emily. Being the center of attention was an anxious position for her. The last time she was the center of attention, she went to hell. The first time had her burned at the stake. Her steps back from Mallory and into Emily’s side were more a flight instinct than an anxious tic.

“Aw, shucks,” the swamp witch said with a flickering smile and a chuckle, “Didn’t think I was here long enough to make an impression.”

“Resurgence is a remarkable power,” Mallory insisted, “If not for you, I would have thought myself a freak.”

“Well, ain’t that sweet.”

Myrtle was quick to rescue the woman from the over-exuberance of the younger witch, placing a steadying hand on Misty’s shoulder. Cordelia was not far behind. Emily could feel her brown eyes on her back like a botanist studying a new plant species.

“While I love pleasantries,” Myrtle said, “I am absolutely famished. Airplane foods always fall flat.”

“It’s because of our sense of smell,” Emily said, trying to ignore the weird looks she was getting, “The altitude affects our nasal passages, making it harder to smell and thus harder to taste. The two are inseparable.”

“So, it’s like how parents plug their kid's nose to get them to take their medicine,” Mallory said. Emily sent her a brief, but thankful smile for making the moment feel less awkward than it was.

“Exactly.”

“Either way,” Myrtle said with a wave of her hand, “I am craving a crème brûlée with a glass of chardonnay.”

Emily smirked a bit before she spoke, “Chardonnay sounds good.”

“Not yet, you,” Cordelia admonished through a chuckle, ruffling Emily’s hair a bit, “We may be lenient with a lot of things, but underage drinking will not be one of them.”

The brunette wanted to note she had done plenty of underage drinking the night before but refrained. Part of being able to bend the rules is pretending you didn’t break them.

“Oh, come on,” Madison said, standing at the back of their little group with her arms crossed in front of her chest, “Little miss indigestion just went to hell. Let her live a little.”

“Maybe a glass,” Cordelia relented, earning a few chuckles from the group. “One.”

Emily echoed the expressions of her fellow witches, but Cordelia’s humor did not amuse her. The headmistresses statement assured her of one thing, however. The brunette had secured a place in the inner circle of Robichaux. It was a feat she would have been proud of before, but now…

Now, the real world seemed so dull. Sensations failed to feel real-- like the world was covered in a fog. Her hands would hover, expecting something to come to her palm and playing off hesitation when it didn’t. Emily had always fancied her dreams to the waking world. The real world now felt more dull than usual. The young witch found herself missing hell, debating whether or not to chase that high.

“Full already?” Cordelia asked at the table they all gathered around. Emily had been picking at her food for the past ten minutes, gaze flickering to the many conversations around the table.

Emily was quick to brush it off, putting down her fork and taking a sip of her sweet tea, “I’ve always eaten like a bird.”

“Birds eat ten times their weight,” Myrtle noted with an amused smile. Cordelia had been so tense since Hawthorne. For once, Myrtle had to be the optimistic one… if only for the sake of maintaining an air of control.

“Good thing I wasn’t talking in ratios.”

Myrtle chuckled and went back to her food, but Cordelia continued to watch Emily carefully as she turned and offered Misty her desert.

“You alright, Firefly?”

“Just tired.”

“Bad dreams?”

“Something like that.”

Cordelia’s glance flickered to her mentor. The slight quirking of the redhead’s brow gave away her own concerns. The headmistress gaze returned to Emily, her posture straightening ever slightly.

“About your personal hell?” she asked.

Emily faltered slightly at her headmistress’s voice. While they were surrounded by people, most had the decency not to eavesdrop on the more intimate conversations — feigning ignorance even if they heard every word. It was one of those unspoken rules of society.

“No. I didn’t have a personal hell.”

Shit.

Her exhaustion and weird mindset had made her careless. Then again, Cordelia was supposed to help with things such as these, right? The whole point of being here was to learn. How could she learn if she never asked questions? Why did her gut churn like she had been caught with her hands painted red?

Green eyes slowly turned to the brown ones that had burned holes in her skin since she had arrived in Mississippi. Cordelia’s brows furrowed, lips twisting in the way they always did when she didn’t have the answers.

“Then where were you?”

“… I don’t know.”

The table was consumed with silence, no one able to pretend they weren’t listening in to the conversation at hand. Coco glanced around at the table, noting the unwavering stares. Glancing to Emily, she saw her eyes flick between them all, her plate, Cordelia, and back again.

“Probably the jet lag,” the heiress said, “shit makes you forget what your own name is.”

Emily smiled with the rest of them, sending a thankful glance to the woman who squeezed her hand and smiled. The table fell back into idle chatter.

“Hell of a spotlight,” Coco whispered into her glass, eyes flickering around to her fellow witches.

Emily mimicked her movements, “you’re telling me.”

The pair shared a glance and promptly fell into laughter.

“Next time you need to swing by L.A. Beaches are crowded, but the experience is worth it.”

“There’s a tattoo parlor there I wanted to check out,” Emily noted, “Purple Panther. One of my favorite artists works there.”

“We should go and get matching tattoos.”

“What did I miss?” Mallory asked, returning from a trip to the bathroom.

“We’re all going to get matching tattoos.” Coco declared.

“Of what?”

Emily smiled and leaned in, “we should get the triquetra from Charmed.”

“Oooh, yes!” Coco exclaimed, “I loved that show as a kid.”

Mallory’s face twisted in confusion, “Haven’t seen it.”

“We’re binge-watching it,” Coco declared, “tonight.”

“My room?” Emily asked, “I have a TV.”

“No offense, your room is a broom closet.”

“Feels like home,” Emily jested, a genuine smile curling on her lips, “certainly been in it for long enough.”

Coco snorted out a laugh, infecting Mallory and Emily into a fit of giggles. The brunette could feel Cordelia’s eyes on her, a hand going to smooth down the hairs on the back of her neck. She didn’t like it, the feeling of being watched.

“Oh!” Mallory said, “I have a tattoo idea — swords.”

“Swords?”

“For the Three Musketeers!”

Emily gasped as an idea hit her, pulling out her sketchbook and scrawling out an idea.

“What if…”

She finished the crude drawing — a sword with a triquetra behind it. Some of the lines of the triquetra looped around the blade where it was positioned at the end of its point. “… we did both?”

“Both?” Mallory asked.

“Both,” Emily repeated.

“Both is good,” Coco finished, the three falling into giggles once again.

.

.

.

Emily was unsurprised when Cordelia cornered her later in the day. Classes had been canceled for the day, older girls put in charge of amusing the younger ones. The brunette had dozed until 12 o’clock when the cheerful laughing and screeching from the lawn kept her from falling back asleep.

Book in hand, Emily had nearly made it to the greenhouse when Cordelia intercepted her. The blonde woman had been leaning against the door of the rotting shack. Emily wondered how long the headmistress had waited for her out in the sun.

“Walk with me,” was all she said as the brunette got within earshot, her tone filled with bad news. They strolled in silence for a good while. When the playful yelling and screaming was muffled by distance and the trees around the property, Cordelia finally spoke.

“I’ve been to hell myself. It changes a person… for better or worse.”

Emily’s eyes were trained on the ground, navigating over twisting roots and rocks that jutted from the dirt. She spared Cordelia a brief glance. “Which was it? Better or worse?”

“That’s the thing,” Cordelia said, head high and eyes steady on the path ahead of them, “you can never tell which. It’s something only others can see.”

“Is this an intervention or something?”

A smile tugged at the blonde’s lips, “Or something.”

Silence consumed them once more. It became clear that Emily could either talk or they would walk until she did.

“Hell was like a dream,” the brunette relented after a minute or so, “Dreams always feel so real until you wake up. Then, you mourn the reality you lost.”

“Even with nightmares?”

“All I ever have is nightmares.”

Cordelia spared the woman a look. Emily’s eyes were trained on the ground as she took a step over a fallen trunk. Dark circles ringed around her eyes, the purple somehow making the green even brighter. Cordelia realized she had never seen Emily without them. Were her dreams something more? Something that paraded around as sleep when it was really anything but?

Emily’s words were hardly louder than a whisper, “It isn’t the situation I mourn, but the power I have.”

The book in Emily’s hands suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. It was one of her many journals, each page dedicated to the carefully worded and detailed recollections of the visions her mind procured in sleep. The voice said her dreams were something more. Emily feared the implications. She was a stickler for a little thing called proof, however. Spirits can lie and trick just as well as humans could.

Cordelia regarded the girl beside her, “Powers such as what?”

“In hell, I could pull a weapon to me as if I reached out and grabbed it with my own hand. I could conjure flames and move them to my will.”

Her words were like a snarl on her lip, a frustration that plagued her every hour. Then, the snarl faltered and the grief set in. “Everything was so much clearer… simpler.”

The headmistress stopped and placed a hand upon the girl’s shoulder, squeezing it for good measure. Emily wished she hadn’t. It was easy to hold back tears and emotions when you didn’t have to look someone in the eye.

“You went to hell and brought back my dearest friend,” she pressed, hand trailing down Emily’s arm and taking her hand, cupping it in her own, “just because you cannot perform grand acts of magic does not mean you cannot fight.”

Emily looked at Cordelia, searching for something in those brown eyes. Everyone’s eyes were covered in a fog of optimism. It made real-life feel more like a dream than her dreams did. Their gazes never failed to make her shudder. Coco was the only one who did not succumb. Thus, the only one she somewhat trusted. Carefully, Emily pulled her hand away.

“Michael brought back Misty, not me.”

It was something she had said a thousand times since her return. The people here either didn’t listen or didn’t care. Which was worse?

“With your aid.”

For a moment, Emily contemplated telling Cordelia everything. She was so desperate for answers — so desperate to cut through the fog. She was reminded of The Odyssey, Odysseus’s travel to an island where everything seemed perfect. It was so tempting to give in, to be alright with not knowing.

What was Michael?

Why did the voices speak to him?

Why did she understand their words while Misty did not?

“I had a weird dream last night,” she found herself speaking, her silence lasting a little too long, “I know it means something, but I can’t quite place it.”

Cordelia seemed content in her words, a small smile telling Emily that she had chosen the right words… even if they were not the words she had intended to speak. There was trust to be built before Emily could talk to Cordelia about hell.

“Tell me about it,” her Supreme commanded, gently ushering Emily back the way they came.

“I was in a field,” Emily started, an air of distance taking over her voice. When Cordelia looked to her, she was miles away — eyes filled with fog. “You were there just… waiting. For me, I think, but I could be wrong.”

“What happened?” Cordelia asked, “in the dream?”

“You were standing next to a girl. She saw me first… said her name was Nan.”

Cordelia’s gasp was quiet, but still loud enough to draw Emily from the fog. A manicured hand came to her mouth before going to her stomach as if the woman had been punched. Emily was afraid Cordelia might pass out again.

“Nan,” Cordelia said, speaking around a frog in her throat.

The younger witch felt a surge of anxiety. She should have said nothing, kept her mouth shut. Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? It had been an easy feat until she came to Robichaux.

“She was sweet,” Emily found herself saying, “told me not to worry.”

Cordelia leaned on a nearby tree. Emily wrung her hands, biting her lip and waiting for the woman to say something. Her heart leaped into her chest when she heard the woman sniffle back a tear.

“Did I say something wrong?” Emily asked, heart hammering. Cordelia didn’t answer. Should she get closer? Should she squeeze her arm as Cordelia had done to her many a times? Emily had never been good at consoling. “I’m sorry.”

The woman finally shook her head, the heels of her palm swiping away the few tears that had trailed down her cheeks. “No… no, you’ve brought me a great deal of peace.”

Curiosity always got the best of her.

“Nan…” Emily said, “You recognize her?”

“She used to be a student here… before her untimely death.”

“I’m sorry.”

Cordelia sighed and straightened her shirt, quickly taking back the decorum Emily had managed to peel back. At that moment, Emily realized something darkened in her Supreme. The fog left the brown eyes and hardened into something more tangible, her jaw clenched ever slightly, and the mother-like tone left her voice.

“I’d advise you not to approach her in your dreams again.”

Emily faltered for a moment, too caught up in the change to process the woman’s words.

“Why?”

“For your safety.”

“She hardly seemed dangerous.”

“It is not her I worry about.”

Her lips opened to ask more questions, but Cordelia quickly overtook the conversation. “Tell me about the rest of this dream.”

It was probably best if she didn’t argue. Emily went on describing, glancing at the woman now and again. Cordelia’s eyes lost their dark edge as the tale continued — flying, levitation, conjuring of fire and wind — until they once again held the optimistic fog Emily had become accustomed to.

“And when I wake up,” Emily concluded, “I felt like I was not myself. That my real self lies within these dreams.”

Cordelia simply nodded.

“Dreams are more powerful than we can imagine,” she said, “it is, in short, an insight into our true nature — witch or no witch.”

“Then what is my true nature?” Emily asked, jumping back as a boisterous toddler ran past her, two more hot on her heels. They had made it back to the garden.

Cordelia smiled at her, giving her shoulder one more squeeze before she trailed after the children.

“That is something only you can answer.”

.

.

.

Cordelia paced her room, thoughts writhing like a snake that had worked its way into a knot. Unable to move forward or back, she wondered how long she had until death. Do nothing and she would starve — giving into the circumstances like a beast baring its belly to the knife. Tug too harshly, however, and she would sever her own spine.

“I do hope you have good reason for waking me in the middle of the night,” Myrtle sighed as she entered the room. She carefully closed the door, the only sign of her entrance the dulled click of the lock behind her.

The Supreme ceased her pacing, taking to wringing her hands instead as she came to a stop before the redhead.

“I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.”

“You just put a petulant boy in power,” Myrtle scoffed, “What can be more wrong than that?”

“I did it for the best of the coven.”

Myrtle let out a sigh, unable to keep up her irritation. Tense shoulders and crossed arms relaxed and rested at her sides. “My dear, what good are you if you keep working yourself into a fit of hysterics?”

Cordelia either didn’t hear her or didn’t care to address the topic. Hurrying over to her desk, she pushed papers this way and that until she found what she was looking for.

“Were you able to look into the matter we discussed?”

It took all Myrtle’s power not to roll her eyes.

“Evocation rituals of that nature aren’t exactly common if they exist at all.”

“But they do exist?”

“None that I could find.”

“What if we modified a resurgence spell… combined it with dreams. That’s where her skill shows the most, after all. If we could get into that otherness—”

Cordelia had thrown the idea around with the woman multiple times before they visited Hawthorne. Seeing the aftermath of the Seven Wonders, particularly in the trial of Descensum, had made the Supreme all the more convinced of her path. If Cordelia shared any traits with Fiona, it was her stubbornness.

“I still don’t see how her power, any power, could be trapped inside her,” Myrtle insisted once more, “That family of hers didn’t have a lick of magic in her bones. Her mother has no magical talent whatsoever and don’t get me started on that father of hers.”

“Then why is she here at our school?”

Myrtle spared her a pointed look. Cordelia huffed and leaned on her desk, keeping her eyes locked with her mentor’s.

“Emily’s powers have to originate from somewhere,” she said, shaking her head and averting her gaze for but a moment, “Her grandmother died. Maybe she used the last of her power to protect Emily. Delphi had yet to be disbanded when she passed.”

“If that were the case, she wouldn’t be able to go to hell, dear. Maybe it’s as you said; her magic is tied to the other — dreams, visions, prophecy, the whole shebang.”

Cordelia shook her head, “That doesn’t feel right.”

Myrtle was now the one to pace. The carpet was sure to be filled with holes if the issue loomed over their heads any longer. If Cordelia could not let go of this vision, the coven would be doomed. How many more dead ends did Delia need to hit before she recognized the futility of—

“Why are you so adamant about this?” Myrtle found herself asking, more out of desperation than curiosity.

Cordelia gave her a pointed look and the woman scoffed. “Mallory—”

“Mallory didn’t go to hell.”

“And our dear Emily can’t make a butterfly out of petals. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. One false step and they all shatter.”

“Then help me eliminate this option,” Cordelia said, voice pleading, “Let's perform a ritual and get our answers before too much time has passed.”

“Alright,” Myrtle relented, “let's pull out the books… and the booze.”

.

.

.

Emily sat on one of the tables in the greenhouse like she was waiting at a doctor’s appointment, picking absentmindedly at the thin layer of paint atop the table. The inner circle of Robichaux stood around her watching Cordelia and Myrtle as they gathered material and passed it out.

Misty sat at Emily’s side, holding her hand and offering reassuring smiles whenever the brunette turned to look at her. Part of e was afraid they were going to kill her… or something worse. Death certainly wasn’t the worst thing the lot of them had experienced.

“We believe there is something blocking out our dear Emily’s powers,” Myrtle explained, placing jars of… something around the table.

“Or she just doesn’t have any,” Madison sighed, obviously wanting to be anywhere else as she studied her nails — she just got a manicure. The others stared at her in annoyance. “What? We’re all thinking it.”

“She saw Nan,” Cordelia spoke. She had been silent the entire time and didn’t even greet Emily when she was escorted into the greenhouse by Myrtle. If her silence was out of concentration or concern, no one could tell.

Queenie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Her arms fell to her sides and all she could do was look between Emily and her Supreme. “She what?”

“I didn’t know who she was,” Emily said, glancing to Misty who held a similar expression to Queenie, “Not until I talked to Cordelia.”

“Is she alright?” Zoe asked. She stood opposite to Misty, carefully watching Cordelia and Myrtle as they prepared. “Did she say anything?”

“Nothing of note.”

“But she did say something,” Queenie said, a silent command in her voice.

“Only that I shouldn’t worry.”

Zoe’s brow furrowed, “worry about what?”

“… I don’t know.”

“If we are able to unlock your powers,” Myrtle said, ignoring the scathing look Cordelia sent her. The redhead still held her doubts. “Perhaps we can find out.”

Her words seemed to motivate the other girls. One by one they fell into place around the table, taking a string as Cordelia handed it to them. Misty and Madison stood at Emily’s left, Queenie and Zoe at her right. Myrtle stood in front of her, a large tomb of a book in her hands as she watched Cordelia work.

“Lay down, my dear,” she told Emily, who hesitantly did as she was told, “We will be delving deep into your subconscious and I’d rather you didn’t wake with a concussion.”

Cordelia came to a stop at Emily’s head. The brunette looked up through her lashes and watched as the woman lit a stick of incense, quickly blowing it out and placing it in a cup of sand. Emily really hoped they wouldn’t have a fire accident. If her hair were to be cut even shorter, she’d look like an egg wearing a toupee.

“Concentrate on the power you had in hell,” She whispered, so low that only Emily could hear her, “Visualize it and keep the sensation in the forefront of your mind.”

Emily felt if she were in some weird baptism, one you’d see on a TLC show about those weird Mormon cults. Shaking her head, she reminded herself to focus. She thought of hell, of that classroom — the fire, the words, the void. Emily felt her eyes become heavy before they closed. She saw Michael, blue eyes only showing a brief moment of alarm as fire raged around him.

Cordelia looked to Myrtle. The redhead began to chant. One by one, the other girls echoed her words. Emily was only slightly aware of their actions, their voices sounding miles away. Finally, Cordelia echoed the words. Her hands cupped over Emily’s face, covering her eyes and centering the spell between her brows, the third eye.

Once again, Emily fell into a slumber. Cordelia prayed that, when she awoke, her questions would be answered.

[madmeridian]

Beginnings

For Day 4 of Meronia event (@meroniaevent)

Ao3 Link

A/N: I tried to think of a fic following canon (or close to it) for this prompt but everything I wrote, I hated, so I did this dumb little AU of them meeting at an airport. It’s not the best, but I hope you guys like it

------

Mello despised the airport. Every time he went to one, everything seemed to go wrong. Security held him up, or his baggage got lost, or there was an issue with his ticket. 

This time around, his flight was delayed. Though it was nearly noon, the sky way dark, snow falling in a heavy blanket outside. He couldn’t even see the tarmac out the window past the white cascading down in thick flakes. 

The other people at the gate were scattered about, looking as disgruntled as he felt. At this rate, they might not even get on the plane until tonight. 

The only person sitting near him was a white-haired man, shuffling a deck of cards. He looked bored out of his mind too. 

“This sucks,” Mello started, gesturing towards the window. The man looked up at him, a brief flash of grey eyes meeting his, then staring out the window. “Can I play a game with you?” 

“What?” 

“A card game?” Mello prompted, nodding to the deck of cards. “To pass the time.” 

“I suppose. Do you know how to play Rummy?” 

“Yeah. I can keep score on my phone.” 

The man, who introduced himself as Near, was exceptionally good at playing Rummy. Mello swore as he lost, again. Near raised an eyebrow at him, gathering up the cards. 

“Perhaps we should play a different game,” Near suggested. “War? It’s a game of chance, at least.” 

“I’m not mad,” Mello gritted out, clearly mad. 

“You’re a bad liar.” Near began to shuffle again. “War, then. I would rather you not murder me before we even get on the plane.” 

“If we ever get on the plane,” Mello muttered, watching as Near dealt out the cards with practiced speed. “Why are you going to New York?”

“Family,” Near answered. A small crease formed between his eyebrows as he thought for a second. “Sort of.” 

“Sort of?” Mello prompted, picking up his stack of cards.

 “I would not call us a normal family, but it is family nonetheless. What about you?” 

“Work. I’ve got business there.” They both set down their cards. Mello swiped the two towards him, winning the battle. 

“Have you been before now?” Near asked. 

“Two or three times. I’m not a big fan of travel. Something always goes wrong.” 

“I don’t like to travel much either.” Near didn’t elaborate any further. 

“Hello everyone, apologies for the delay, but we will be boarding soon,” a voice over the intercom chimed out. 

“Thank god,” Mello breathed, getting off the ground. Near packed up his cards, getting up too. “Thanks for humoring me. I think I would’ve gone nuts if I’d just sat here for any longer.” 

“Likewise. It was nice meeting you,” Near said, shoving his cards back into his carry-on. 

The boarding went thankfully fast. Everyone wanted to get on and get off the ground already. The delay had been long enough. 

As Mello walked down the aisle towards his seat, he grinned. The person sitting in the seat next to him was none other than Near, who was already wrapped in a blanket and had headphones around his neck. 

“I guess you aren’t free from me yet,” Mello said, swinging his bag into the overhead. 

“No, I suppose not,” Near said dryly. “Though I’d rather it be you than another new person.” 

Mello sat down in his seat, very aware that there wasn’t a lot of space between him and Near. The thought was stupid. You aren’t going to get a crush on a guy you met an hour ago.

“They’re supposed to be getting snow in New York too,” Mello said idly, looking out the window past Near. “I was at least hoping to get out of the bad weather.”

 Near hummed in agreement, but didn’t bother to humor Mello with small talk. Mello did gather by now that Near wasn’t all that into talking to anyone. It almost reminded him a bit of Matt, who rarely went along with idle conversation like that. 

As soon as it was announced that the plane would take off, Near put his headphones on. Mello waited until they were up in the air to put his own on, drowning out the quiet hum of conversation and snoring from the other passengers. 

After settling in, he’d nearly fallen asleep, but was jolted up again when he felt a weight on his shoulder. Groggily, he glanced down to see Near’s head leaning on him. Near was completely out, drooling a little on Mello’s shirt while he slept.

You aren’t gonna fall for a guy you met like an hour ago. You aren’t. You aren’t. 

Near scooted a little closer to him, wrapping his blanket tighter around himself

Shit.

----------

At some point, Mello had finally fallen asleep too. When he woke up, Near was awake again, watching the clouds out the window. 

“We’re almost there. They made an announcement,” Near said. 

Mello stretched as best he could in the small space, groaning. “Shit. I’m gonna sleep so much when I get to my hotel.” 

“How long are you staying?” Near asked, eyes still on the window. Mello pretended that he didn’t see how pretty the reflection of the clouds looked in Near’s eyes. 

“A week. Time to do business and some sightseeing. I’ve never actually walked around the city or anything.”

“There’s a lot of cool places to go.” Near turned to him. “My family has taken me around a bit.” 

The topic seemed to strike an interest in Near, who gave him recommendations of places to go. Mello nodded along, almost wanting to ask Near if he’d come along too. He didn’t really want to go alone, but the words seemed to be stuck in his throat. 

The plane finally landed and everyone seemed to give out a shared sigh of relief. Mello stared at the back of Near’s head as they got off the plane, wondering what to say. Hey, I just met you, but do you want to hang out? That’s fucking stupid, he wouldn’t say yes. I wouldn’t say yes if someone asked me. Just ask for his number or something.

Mello had already resigned to the fact it was probably too late, but Near pulled him aside just after they got off the ramp. He stuffed a napkin into Mello’s hand. 

“I could show you around some places if you want,” Near said nervously, shuffling his feet. “That’s my number.” 

“Oh, thanks,” Mello responded, dumbfounded. “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your family.” 

“I might need a break from them.” Near looked over to where two figures were waiting. One looked completely disheveled, messy black hair and crumpled jeans. The other was wearing a full suit, a sharp contrast to the person beside him.

“Yeah, I think I get,” Mello muttered. “In that case, I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer.” 

Near offered him a small, awkward smile. “It was nice meeting you, Mello.” 

“Nice meeting you too,” Mello said. Near nodded and walked, dragging his feet to meet his family members. Whoever the hell they were. 

Mello took another look at the napkin and grinned to himself. Well, not the worst flight I’ve been on.

[sardonic-at-heart]

Last Date

I wanted to make this the first chapter for the series related to Fragile where it’s all flashbacks of Sam’s memories with Mika, but then I wrote the end of this fic and said to myself, “Yeaaahhhh maybe not.” You’ll see why I changed my mind. Enjoy!

Summary: Tipsy Mika and steak eater Sam enjoy a night out together.

It was a comforting and delightful thought to know that even after two years of marriage, Sam was still captivated with his wife like the very first time he realized he fell for her. Her smile, her laugh, her blush. Every quirk she had he loved, because it all unequivocally defined Mika Anderson.

As he listened to her talk about her day now, he couldn’t help the smile creeping at the corners of his lips at her enthusiasm.

She stopped suddenly and narrowed her eyes. “Why are you grinning? I’m talking about waiting in line for three hours just to get my driver’s license renewed.”

He chuckled. “You just look really great tonight, is all.”

And she did. She was wearing her lace plum dress, a recent favorite she bought a few months ago. He loved the way the skirt swished around her legs like a princess he saw her as. Her long black hair was swept in a loose ponytail, a few strands framing her face. Picturesque and effortlessly beautiful.

Any man would worship the ground she walked on and Sam didn’t mind swallowing his pride to do so if given the opportunity.

“W-wha—” There it was: that famous blush he enjoyed causing so much. And that cute stammering she did when she couldn’t find the right words to say.

“Sorry. Go on, I’m listening.”

“How am I supposed to continue after you caught me off guard like that!”

He smirked. “You thank me for being the best husband in the world and compliment me back.”

She huffed, lips in a pout.

“What else did you do today?” He changed the subject for her sake. Because he was the best husband in the world.

“I went grocery shopping because we were out of eggs.”

“Thanks again for buying it.”

“I didn’t mind,” she grinned. “It was a good excuse to also go out with my friends and try this new gelato place Suzu showed us. We need to go back so you can try it! The key lime pie flavor was very light and refreshing.”

He narrowed his eyes. “They were supposed to be getting ready for their flight to Italy today.”

Mika waved dismissively. “Naomi made sure Suzu packed a few days ago.”

Sam chortled. Suzu wasn’t exactly the type to plan anything. At all. Luckily her fiancée was a lot more responsible than her and kept her important dates in check.

They postponed their conversation momentarily when a waiter came to their table. He ordered well done steak (which always made his wife grimace at his “lack of taste”) and she ordered garlic shrimp pasta. She took a glance at the alcohol menu, and he grinned at how her eyes sparkled once she found white wine to pair with her dish.

“How was your day?” Mika asked.

“Don’t get me started,” Sam grumbled.

“Hey, I had my chance to rant about my day, so it’s only fair you do the same.”

He smiled briefly before it soured into a scowl. “A lot of paperwork. Again. That’s why I was late coming over here.” He paused. “Sorry for that, by the way.”

“It’s no problem. You don’t have to apologize.”

“You sure? How long did you have to wait?”

“Sam. I’m sure now and I’ll always be sure the next time you ask. And it was just five minutes.”

His expression twisted in guilt. “If I’d been here at least five minutes earlier—”

She let out an exasperated chuckle. “Sam. I’ve known for quite a while that your job makes you incredibly busy and I understand that you’ll be late sometimes. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

He measured her with a stare, taking in her relaxed smile and green eyes with an earnest gleam, and then conceded with a sigh.

Mika’s smile brightened knowing she’d won.

Their dinner and wine arrived then and, because Sam knew she always did this when it came to food and Instagram, he leaned back in his seat so she could take a couple pictures of their dishes. Or ten. She made sure to take them at different angles, even though it was the same freaking thing in every shot. He would have laughed at her ridiculous positions and silly expressions scrunched in concentration, but he was getting hungry the longer her photo session dragged on.

“Take your last shot right now or I’m going to eat your shrimp,” he threatened.

“Alright, alright,” she chuckled before she frowned at her screen. “Wait, that was a little blurry. Let me do it again—hey!”

He warned her, but she didn’t listen.

She finally put away her phone with a glare that lost its edge as she pouted. “If your steak wasn’t so charred I’d do the same.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” he cut a piece while snickering.

They talked a bit about their favorite band’s album that had been released recently while they enjoyed their food. There were rumors that one of their new songs would be featured in a video game Sam liked to play and he hoped it was true.

She showed him the pictures she took this morning for Sammy’s Instagram and he chuckled at how adorable the Rottweiler was curled up in his new bed. Once in a while Sam heard the sound of a camera snapping, but when he turned to his wife she acted like he was just hearing things. She was probably taking more pictures again. He let it go with a shrug and kept eating.

After they had finished a delectable chocolate mousse cake, Sam was quick to pay for the bill before Mika could reach for her wallet. Luckily she was tipsy enough to thank him with a noisy kiss instead of insisting she should take care of it like she always did.

He suggested they do a night stroll to gaze at the city lights and she happily agreed, giggling to herself at a joke only she could hear. When she was in this state it was best to have her walk around a few minutes until she had a clear head. He wasn’t planning to repeat the last time she drank too much.

She tripped a few times and he threw his head back and laughed while helping her up. To his relief she was able to walk like a normal person after ten minutes, but then she took out her phone and randomly recorded them together for reasons that were lost on him. He took note to keep an eye out for her newest post later.

Sam heard her light snores as he parked his truck in their driveway and he chuckled to himself. As much as he loved the sight of his wife asleep, he couldn’t let her anywhere near the bed with her dress and her makeup still on. Reaching over to unbuckle her seatbelt, Sam swept her in his arms and made his way inside. Their Rottweiler perked from his sleeping position when his owners entered the bedroom and yipped in an energetic greeting.

“Sammyyyy,” Mika groaned, opening her bleary eyes. “Inside voice.”

He kept yipping.

Sam placed her in their bathroom and motioned her to shower. “Going to take him outside. Don’t fall asleep in there, okay?”

She mumbled her response and closed the door. He made sure to hear the sound of the showerhead turning on before carrying Sammy to the backyard. It only took a couple minutes for him to relieve himself, and Sam spent an extra few minutes to clean it up and chase him around to expend all that excitable energy. It made feeding and refilling his water dispenser much easier that way.

He made sure Sammy’s paws were clean and dry and then let the little rascal run up the dog stairs at the end of their bed and over to where Mika lay, snuggling up to her side on the left. Eyes half open but still aware of what was going on around her, she cooed and petted him as Sam left to take a quick shower as well.

“Still up?” He asked when she glanced at him as he climbed into bed.

“I wanted to stay up until you joined me.”

“I’m here,” he lazily rested his arm around her waist. “Get some shut eye.”

She hummed her assent, leaning in to kiss him. “Tonight was lovely. Thank you for being the best husband in the world.”

“Anytime, doofus.”

“I should pay you back.”

“Wait, what—”

“Because you paid for dinner and I need to return the favor.”

“Mika, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she looked so determined that Sam didn’t have the heart to argue. “How about I bring you a home cooked meal at lunch time tomorrow?”

Oh, okay. He was fine with that. “Sure thing. Text me when you’re there?”

She nodded, closing her eyes. “Yup. Night, Sam. I love you.”

“I love you,” he pressed a kiss on her and Sammy’s forehead and turned off the lights, hoping to get enough sleep for tomorrow’s shift.

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