#married couple falling in love with each other

[scarletmika]

Cliché : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: There's always a joke surrounding weddings that the Maid of Honor and the Best Man will end up falling in love; it's one of the oldest clichés in the book. When you're the Maid of Honor, though, Bob Floyd wouldn't have it any other way.

Warnings: insane amounts of fluff, insane amounts of pining (my god I couldn't stop), maid of honor and best man trope, kind of friends to lovers, language, Hangman is Hangman, female reader, reader is very creative and can dance, UCSD info might not be accurate I don't go there, suggestive and steamy but not explicit, language, probably incorrect descriptions of the Navy (my dad was a Marine, I'm doing my best lol)

Word Count: 13,515 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

“Natasha Trace, my best friend…will you marry me?”

The Hard Deck erupted into a chorus of excitement the minute that Natasha told Bradley Bradshaw yes through a curtain of tears. Bob was cheering right along with them, elated for his two best friends and to know that Rooster had pulled off the proposal he’d been stressing over for weeks now.

The couple had made the rounds in the moments after. Maverick and Penny were the first to congratulate them both, and Bob could’ve sworn he saw tears in their Team Leader’s eyes as he hugged Rooster. Hangman had a snide remark under his breath, but gave the couple both his heartfelt congratulations, followed by Fanboy and Payback.

“Couldn’t have done this without you, Bobby boy,” Rooster clapped his best friend on the back, bringing him into a tight hug before letting Natasha hug her back seater. “Bob’s been helping me plan this for weeks, making sure everyone would be here tonight for the engagement party. The greatest future best man a guy could ask for!”

“Bradley, it can’t be an engagement party without our families,” Natasha had quickly argued back, shooting Bob a bright smile. “But thank you, Bob. It means the world to both of us.”

“It’s what you both deserve,” he’d told them wholeheartedly. “Seeing my best friends happy is all I want.”

“Going back to your engagement party comment,” Bradley cut in, shooting his now-fiancée a cheeky grin as he gestured behind her. “Don’t think I didn’t think of everything.”

Bob laughed along with Rooster the second Natasha turned around, shouting in glee at her family standing directly behind her. She’d thrown herself into her mother and father’s arms, given her sister a tight hug, and a whole new round of tears had sprung as they admired the ring on her finger. Bob nudged his best friend with a grin.

“You did good, Rooster,”

“Oh, this is just the beginning,” Natasha’s attention was turned back to Bradley the second she heard him say that, raising an eyebrow as she missed the sneaky smiles on her family’s faces.

“What else could you have possibly pulled off tonight-”

“Give your man props, Nattie. He knew if he proposed to you without me in attendance, one of us would likely kill him,”

It wasn’t the first time Bob had ever seen you, but it was the first time he’d ever seen you in person. Natasha had shown him many photos of herself and her childhood best friend, the girl she considered more of a sister than anything else, many times before in all their time knowing each other and working together. He’d seen the elementary photos, the awkward middle school photos, the prom photos, and the intermittent photos taken throughout adulthood, anytime the pair of you could find time to see one another.

He hated that, based solely on photos and stories of you, he’d grown the most schoolboy crush in the world on you. He wasn’t sure if there was an “unspoken” code about crushing on the childhood best friend of one of your own best friends, but he felt like it definitely crossed a line.

Rooster was laughing from Bob’s side as you and Natasha practically bounced around in circles together, talking a mile a minute as you admired the ring sitting snugly on her left hand now. With arms wrapped around one another, you’d both turned back to the boys as Bob watched you flash a smile in Rooster’s direction.

“Bradley, nice to finally see you outside of FaceTime screens. And nicely done with the ring, I’m glad you took my advice,”

“Who was I to question the advice of the master?”

Bob felt his breath catch for a moment as your gaze finally turned to him, and he could see you fully for the first time in front of him.

God, you were even prettier up close than in your photos. 

“You must be the infamous Bob that I’ve heard so much about,” Bob wanted to melt under your smile as you flashed your attention toward him. “Thanks for keeping my girl safe in the skies.”

“Well- I’d say she keeps me safe more…”

“Team effort, at least take half the credit,” you’d joked to him, before Natasha had quickly pulled you into conversation once more.

It was stupid, Bob thought, to have a crush on a woman he’d never even met before. He couldn’t help it the entire night as he watched you talk and joke with Natasha’s family, the way you so effortlessly made conversation with the entire Dagger Squad, even though it was the first time you’d met them all. Through photos, videos, and stories alone, Bob had gained a schoolboy crush. But now, as you animatedly explained a story of you and Phoenix from your childhood, he could feel his crush growing from seeing your personality shine.

Thankfully for Bob, he’d barely have to see you. You’d fly home most likely the next day, and the next time he’d see you would be for wedding preparations. That’d be plenty of time to get over his dumb little crush on his best friend’s childhood best friend.

“I’m telling you, it was the funniest night of our entire lives!” Natasha was practically in tears, and so were the rest of the Dagger Squad members as you choked out your words through your own laughter. Bob had a hard time looking away from you as you spoke. “I’m up there on that stage, sold out high school theater guys, ready to give my really intense monologue, and suddenly the set wall just comes CRASHING down with Nattie here clinging onto it!”

“I warned them during set construction that the wall was just begging to fall down!” Natasha laughed, leaning back against Rooster with a shake of her head. “That was immediately the last time I let this one here talk me into helping with the school musicals. Never signed up again, no matter how much she begged.”

“And wait, this was opening night too?” Fanboy chimed in from his space beside Bob as both women gave him a nod. “That somehow makes it even funnier. I can’t thank you enough for bestowing us with the gift of these stories tonight.”

“Yes, yes, consider them a tiny gift for all of Nattie’s friends here tonight,” you turned away from the rest of the squad to look at your best friend, though. “It’s your engagement party, though, so I think it’s time that I gave you your gift.”

Bob could see the smirk on Rooster’s lips as he watched the pair. Bob, along with the ret of their friends, watched intently as well as you dug a key out of your back pocket, dropping it into Natasha’s hand without another word. Bob’s front seater cocked an eyebrow, examining the key in confusion.

“A key…how…nice?”

“Well, I have to make sure someone in this city has a spare key to my place,” Bob felt his breath catch for a second, catching onto your words before Natasha did, as you beamed at your best friend. “To my apartment, over in Logan Heights! If I’m going to be the newest Professor at UC San Diego, I’m going to need a place to live-”

If there was a contest for trying to break the sound barrier with a scream, or even how much one person could cry in a single night, Natasha Trace was pretty close to winning them both. Between her shouts of “YOU’RE MOVING TO SAN DIEGO?” and a lot of loud crying, as Rooster smirked, letting his friends know he knew about this surprise, Bob knew this night had quickly become absolute perfection in both of his friends’ eyes.

Bob also knew that now, his plan to squash his little crush on you had failed before it even had the chance to begin.

He’d managed to avoid seeing you for a few days, but that didn’t mean that Natasha had shut up about you. Every day, while thousands of feet in the air, he’d listened to her ramble on and on about how the pair of you had always wanted to live in the same city together once you were settled in your careers, and she was finally getting her wish. She’d also run about a thousand ideas for how to help you decorate your apartment by him, and somewhere in there had tricked him into agreeing to help herself and Rooster set up your apartment.

“I can’t thank you all enough for the help,” you’d told the three standing in front of you one early Saturday morning, giving them all thankful smiles, before turning to the multitudes of boxes stacked around your living room. “I…frankly have no idea where to start. The boxes are all stacked in their corresponding rooms, and there are a ton of IKEA boxes that need to be assembled in just about every room.”

Rooster clapped a hand on Bob’s shoulder, bringing the attention of both women back to the two of them.

“Good thing Bob and I are masters of IKEA furniture,” Bradley put on an air of confidence as he said it. “When Payback and Fanboy got their apartment a few months ago, we were in charge of all the furniture assembly.”

“And given that we managed to build a bedframe upside down, I wouldn’t call us masters,”

It was the giggle you let out at Bob’s comment that brought his attention back to you, an involuntary flush spreading across his cheeks. You gave a mock salute to the pair.

“Well, how nice it is to know I have such capable young men on my side,” you gestured with your head toward the hallway behind you. “I’ll steal Bob for help with the dining room if Natasha, you and your man can handle my bedroom without putting my bedframe together upside down.”

With another laugh shared, Rooster and Phoenix were quickly moving down the hallway toward your bedroom, but Bob caught the over-exaggerated wink that Rooster sent his way before disappearing into what he assumed was your bedroom.

Trying to calm the blush evident on his cheeks, Bob joined you in the dining room directly off your kitchen. You’d already set yourself down on the floor, breaking into the IKEA box laid before you.

“Can you take that so I don’t lose it while getting all these pieces out?” you’d laughed, handing Bob the instruction manual. He took it from you with a nod, quickly flipping through the packet in his hands.

“A ‘GRÖNSTA’, because that’s not a mouthful,” Bob commented under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear as you laughed again. He took a seat on the ground opposite of you,, placing the packet off to the side and helping you take pieces out of the box, while also trying to calm the heat still prevalent in his cheeks. “Doesn’t help that the instructions don’t make any sense.”

“Right? You’d think the Swedes would learn that their pictures aren’t very helpful,” you both shared a laugh as Bob watched you flip open the instructions, grabbing the pieces needed for the very first leg of the table.

It was torture, almost, being around you with a crush that felt so middle school being harbored inside of him. He barely knew you, but every time you talked and joked, he knew he was already digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole.

“You said the other night you’re a professor?” Bob had settled on asking you about yourself. You were Natasha’s best friend, and now you lived here; getting to know you was going to be inevitable. You gave him a slight hum as an answer, intent on screwing in the leg of the table to the tabletop that Bob was holding in place. “What uh, what will you be teaching?”

“I’m a professor in the art department, there’s like a whole slew of classes I’ll be teaching,” you explained to him as Bob held the table steady so that you could screw in another leg. “Music, theatre, dance, and probably whatever else they throw my way.”

You passed the tools off to Bob as you stood, holding the table upright on it’s two legs so that he could screw in the last two from the ground below you. Truthfully, Bob was thankful for the table between you two, because the more he looked at you, the more he couldn’t stop thinking about just how gorgeous you were in person.

“Take it you’re a creative person, then?”

“After some lead roles in high school musicals, followed by a stint on Broadway fresh out of college…yeah I’d say creative is a good word to use,” Bob laughed, moving out from under the table slightly to grab the final leg from just a few feet away, glancing up at you.

“Broadway? My older sister is a big musical fan, she’d go nuts knowing I know someone who was on Broadway, now,”

“Well, you can tell her that I’d be happy to tell her all about it sometime. I’ve got a whole slew of fun stories from different shows,” you gave him another grin, still holding up the unbalanced table. “I’m surprised Nattie didn’t tell anyone about my Broadway stint; she talks about it like a proud mother to whoever will listen.”

Bob found himself locked in place as he laughed at your comment, fidgeting with the last table leg in his hands as he smiled up at you, finding himself locked in conversation easily. Despite his raging social anxiety that Rooster and Hangman desperately wanted to fix, Bob found it entirely too easy to talk to you.

“To be fair, when we’re thousands of feet in the air, we have a few things to focus on for the sake of our lives,” both of you shared a laugh at his comment. “She’d told plenty of stories about you, though. Showed a lot of photos and videos, too.”

“Good, because she’s told me plenty about you,” Bob could see your grin widen, no doubt because of the red flush overtaking his skin at your comment. “Her incredibly smart and kind WSO with raging social anxiety. Not sure I believe that last part, you seem to be doing just fine.”

“On the outside, maybe. Typically, on the outside and inside, I’m about as useful as a newborn baby deer,”

The laughter that you let out as his joke, Bob decided, was now one of his favorite things. He was so entranced by it that he hadn’t noticed you’d accidentally let go of the table until it had fallen back on him.

The gasp you’d let out rang through the room, but it was broken apart by the laughter that seemed to be flowing out of you even harder now. Bob took a second to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose before shoving the table off of him. Your laughter paused for a moment as soon as the two of you locked eyes, before you both devolved into a fit of laughter that had Bob almost curled in on himself.

“I’m so sorry!” you had finally managed to get out words after a solid few moments, wiping tears from your eyes as laughter still broke through your words. “I didn’t mean to do that!”

“Good, because I don’t want to explain to Maverick that I died because of a ‘GRÖNSTA’,” the pair of you devolved into laughter again as you held out your hand for him. Bob took it, despite the full-body flush he felt at simply touching your skin, and let you hoist him back up to his feet.

“Alright, next time I see you, I’m buying you a drink as an apology,” you told him with a pointed look as you moved past him to grab the instruction book.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Ikea,”

“Hey!” Bob laughed as you gasped at his comment, whacking him lightly with the instruction booklet as you grinned at him. “There’s no way we’re making that my nickname!”

“I promise it’s better than any call-sign Hangman will come up with for you-”

“What the hell is happening out here?”

Bob turned on his heel to face the hallway just as you did. Rooster looked lost at what was happening outside the bedroom, as did Natasha, but Bob could see the slightest hint of a smirk on his friend’s face as she looked at him. Bob turned to look at you, just as you looked at him, and you both devolved into another round of laughter that had Rooster even more confused.

Bob Floyd hadn’t stopped thinking about you after that night. He thought about you constantly, how your hand fit and felt in his own, about your laughter, and about that beautiful smile on your face. He was in deep, and he knew it. You never left his mind until he saw you again at the weekly Hard Deck hangout with the rest of the Dagger Squad.

“Well, well, well,” Hangman’s Texan accent was heavy tonight as he turned his gaze away from the pool table before him, and the meaningless game he was playing against Coyote. “Phoenix brought her shadow along tonight!”

Bob turned his head, a smile crossing his lips at the sight of you walking up with Phoenix, two beer bottles in your hands as you rolled your eyes at Hangman’s comments, but Natasha was the one who spoke first.

“I was more so her shadow growing up, followed this one everywhere,” she nudged your shoulder before taking a seat at one of the high tops next to Bradley, smiling widely as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Figured, now that she’s settled in, it was time to start bringing her around to the weekly night out.”

The conversation continued, but Bob’s eyes and grin were glued to you. You made a beeline for his side, leaning against the high-top chair he was seated on and passing him one of the beers in your hand.

“Nice to see you, Lieutenant,” you teased him, clinking the top of your bottle to his own. “I did say I owed you a beer next time I saw you.”

“Thanks, Ikea, I’m sure it will numb the pain of that table falling on me,” Bob threw back, laughing as you lightly hit him on the shoulder the second he said that nickname. “Settled in well?”

“All thanks to you guys and that entire day full of furniture building,” you shot back at him, taking a swig of your drink as you turned to watch the pool game in front of you, still leaning against Bob’s chair. It had you close enough that Bob was overwhelmed by the scent of your perfume, and he decided in that moment it might be his new favorite scent.

He then scolded himself in his head for how weird that sounded. This crush was getting out of hand.

Coyote let out a groan as Hangman beat him once again, the latter letting out a loud whoop that had the rest of the Dagger Squad laughing. The pilot’s attention turned immediately to you, a frown appearing on Bob’s lips immediately as he recognized the flirty grin on Jake’s face.

“What do you say, little lady?” Hangman emphasized his accent even more, making a show of gesturing you toward the pool table with the pool cue in his hands. “Want to play a round?”

You hummed from beside Bob, leaning over him to place your own drink on the table as his face immediately flushed at the action. You didn’t seem to notice, stalking toward the pool table and picking up Coyote’s previous pool cue.

“8 ball or 9 ball?”

“9 ball, I’m all about making shots,” Hangman called back, gesturing toward his side of the table. “Payback can rack ‘em for us. What do you say, sweetheart? Ready to be partners with the greatest pool player Miramar’s ever had the pleasure of hosting?”

“Absolutely,” you shock back, and Bob paused in his sip of his beer as your gaze shot back toward him. “Let’s go, Lieutenant. You’re my partner.”

There was a collective laugh through the entire squad at the look of shock on Hangman’s face, that he quickly tried to wipe away and pretend as if your comment hadn’t affected him. Bob froze for a moment, but the inviting smile on your face drew him to your side within a heartbeat.

Hangman and Coyote were a good pairing, but somehow you and Bob managed to be just slightly better than them both. Bob let out a cheer as you sunk the final ball of the game, happily accepting the high five you sent his way as Coyote and Hangman groaned, having come so close yet so far from winning out.

“Nice shots there, Bob,” you shot at him, nudging his shoulder with your own as you placed your cue down on the table. Bob could feel the confidence he’d been feeling the last hour slightly fade at the close proximity to you, at the sweet smile you were sending up at him from your place next to him.

“Yeah uh- yeah, you too, Ikea-”

“Ikea?” Payback questioned as he and Fanboy hopped up to sit on the table next to the dejected Jake Seresin. He pointed between Bob and their newest friend. “Like…the Swedish furniture place?”

You laughed, your hand coming to rest on Bob’s forearm with a squeeze that had his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Inside joke, Payback, and it’s going to stay that way,”

Bob’s friend went to counter them with another comment when Natasha and Bradley returned to the group, an entire tray of beers in hand as Natasha whistled to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright guys, we’ve got another round of beers for the group,” most of them whooped and hollered as Bradley passed them all out, before Natasha turned to Bob and her best friend to hand them the two in her hands with a wide grin. “And two very special ones for our best friends.”

There was a beat of silence as Bob took his drink from Natasha, taking a swig before he felt something on the outside of the bottle. He turned it over in his hands, seeing a piece of paper barely attached by a thin strip of tape, Rooster’s handwriting scrawled across it:

You might be Phoenix’s back seater, but I want you to be my wingman this time: be my Best Man?

Bob almost felt tears in his eyes as he looked up at Bradley, who was waiting with a grin on his face. Overwhelmed with emotion, Bob simply nodded, standing up as he brought Bradley into a tight hug as the rest of the group realized what was happening before them and began cheering.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD, YES!”

Bob and Bradley both turned to see you flinging yourself into Natasha’s arms, the pair of you jumping and crying together. His eyes trailed to your bottle, long forgotten on the side of the pool table, with a piece of paper bearing Nat’s handwriting taped to the neck:

It was always going to be you: be my Maid of Honor?”

“You know what they say about the Best Man and the Maid of Honor, right Bob?” It was Bradley’s voice mumbled into his ear with a hint of teasing laced through it, his best friend’s hand clamped down on his shoulder with a squeeze. “It’s almost inevitable that they fall in love.”

Bob never had a second to truly process Bradley’s words before Natasha was getting the attention of the entire group once again, with you still glued to her side.

“It might also be a good time to tell you guys we picked a wedding date…we’re getting married in six months!”

The cheering of the entire group ceased for a moment before everyone seemed to shout all at once.

“WHAT?”

Planning a wedding was hard enough on the Bride and the Groom, and it was hard on the Best Man and the Maid of Honor as well. But to somehow turn it around in only six months, especially when almost everyone involved was a Navy fighter pilot who spent most of their time thousands of feet in the air, it made it even harder.

It was even harder for Bob, as he accepted his ‘schoolboy crush’ had grown into a full-blown crush on you, maybe even borderline infatuation, not even a month later than that night at the Hard Deck.

Bob had been a stumbling, blushing mess when you’d given him your number that night after the announcement. It made sense, given that it was going to be up to the two of you to plan most of the festivities leading up to the wedding. It was hard because, besides Bob’s growing affection for you, he couldn’t get the thought of what Rooster had mumbled to him out of his head.

He’d yet, though, worked up the courage to text you regarding ANYTHING other than wedding festivities planning…which were all conversations you had started first.

“Hard Deck, 6 p.m., don’t be late!” Phoenix called out to Bob as she walked away, tucked under Bradley’s arm as they made their way toward the latter's truck. “Hangman insists on that pool rematch tonight!”

“Let a guy shower first!” Bob called back, waving goodbye to his friends as he climbed up into his truck, wiping sweat from his brow. Another day that ended with over 200 push-ups from Maverick, and he refused to show up to the Hard Deck without showering first. Before he could put his car in drive, his phone went off, and his heart skipped a beat as he read your name across the screen.

Soooooooooo, huge favor to ask you here, Bobby…

Bob did his best to calm the hammering that his heart was doing inside of his ribcage. It was just a simple text, that’s all, asking for a favor. He’d texted you before, and while this potentially may not be wedding-related, he could certainly text you again.

Anything, what’s up?

Anything? God, could he make his pining any more obvious? He didn’t get long to mull over his own words before you’d already typed back to him.

My car is in the shop, and a coworker gave me a ride in today, but she had to leave early. I know I promised Jake that pool rematch tonight…any way you could swing by and pick me up from campus?

I know campus is WAY in the opposite direction from the Hard Deck, it’s totally okay if you can’t!

Was Bob freaking out inside? Absolutely. He knew you worked on UCSD’s campus, but he’d never been to your office; he had no need to go there. The last time he’d also been fully alone with you was building furniture and dropping tables in your apartment, and picking you up meant being alone with you…plus, it wouldn’t give him time to go home and shower, and the last thing he wanted to do was put you off potentially because he was sweating buckets in the San Diego sun all day.

Before he could psych himself out, as if there was a little Rooster on his shoulder coercing him, Bob replied.

Of course, send me your office address.

About a half hour later, Bob was forcing himself out of his truck and up to the doors of the building housing the Department of Theater and Dance, frantically trying to fix his hair so he looked semi-acceptable. He’d already had to convince himself that a fifth layer of deodorant was not needed, nor was a second spray of the spare cologne he kept in his car.

Walking through the doors and into the building you’d given him directions to, Bob realized fairly quickly that he was absolutely lost and had no idea how to get to your office. Spotting a receptionist off to the side, Bob made his way over to her and cleared his throat, asking politely for directions to your office.

“I didn’t think Siren had any meetings on the schedule for today…” the receptionist trailed off as she raised an eyebrow at him. Bob let out an awkward laugh, glancing to her nametag and making a mental note that her name was ‘Sydney’, before answering her.

“Uh, no ma’am, sorry for the confusion. I’m a uh…friend of hers. She asked me to pick her up,”

Sydney’s eyes seemed to widen as she smiled, happily sitting up now in the chair once he’d explained himself.

“Oh! You must be the Lieutenant. Bob, right?” he gave her a nod as she typed something at her laptop before turning back to him. “Siren told me you’d be dropping by and would probably need directions- oh, and don’t mind the nickname, it’s just kind of a little inside joke around here that stuck. Take those stairs up to the second floor, the right side is dance studios, and her office is at the end of the hall to the left!”

With a quiet thank you, Bob followed her directions up the stairs and down to the left, though he could hear the music blasting from the dance studios down the hallway. At the very end of the hall, he saw your name on the plaque outside the one door ajar in the hallway.

With a light push to the door, so as not to freak you out, Bob leaned against the doorframe as he saw you working away at your laptop, singing softly to yourself as your own music played. He smiled softly to himself at the sight, even though inside he was still freaking out over the entire situation.

“So…Siren, huh?”

You jumped slightly at the voice until you turned, seeing that it was just Bob standing in the doorway of the office. He watched as you gave a slight laugh, beginning the process of packing your things up as you explained.

“God, of course, Sydney used that in front of you,” you turned, shooting him another smile as you packed your laptop away. “Context to this stupid inside joke probably helps, doesn’t it? I taught a salsa class my first week here, and this one student of mine thought I was such a good dancer she explained that my ‘dancing was so captivating, like a Siren’s song,’ and the next thing I knew the entire staff was calling me that.”

“Not a bad nickname,” Bob tried to reassure you as you joined him at the doorway with your things. “Better than your callsign being your name…or Hangman turning it into baby-on-board instead.”

You rolled your eyes, taking hold of his arm in your hand and dragging him lightly from the office doorway to lock up behind you, hopefully unaware of the frantic beating of his heart at even the slight contact.

“I’d rather get called that than get named after leaving my wingmen out to dry,” you gave him a pointed look that he laughed at before your features softened into something genuine again. “Thank you for being my hero today.”

“Anytime, Ikea,”

It was only halfway through the night at the Hard Deck when you’d let slip to Penny your nickname at work, and like vultures, the rest of the squad was dying to hear the story.

It was that night that, after living in San Diego for a month and a half, Bob watched the rest of his team officially induct you as an honorary member of the Dagger Squad with your very own callsign: Siren. You were officially one of them, even though you basically had been since the moment you’d arrived in the city.

From that day on, something shifted for Bob. He’d chalked it up to the ease he felt around you, the way you made him feel like he didn’t need to be flashy like Hangman to be liked, and he’d found it easier to finally branch out and text you about things NOT related to the wedding. And slowly, but surely, he was stopping by the campus on his very few rare off days from work to bring you lunch, simply talk to you in your office, or offer you a ride to the Hard Deck, knowing full well your car was parked in the campus lot. 

Bob spent the next weeks slowly, but surely, falling in love with you in every way imaginable, and he knew it. It terrified him how easily you’d secured a place in his heart, and you weren’t even aware you had. Phoenix and Rooster had tried to pry the information out of him many times, wondering why he was so engrossed in his phone all the time or why he was suddenly so smiley, but he kept his lips sealed.

Besides, how was he supposed to tell the woman controlling the fighter jet that could kill him that he was kind of falling in love with her best friend?

It was one of those very rare off days that Bob found himself cleaning out his truck in his driveway, knowing that there were a few jackets and extra pairs of shirts, and pants to change into after leaving base that needed to come out of the car and into the wash. What he hadn’t expected was to find your jacket.

You’d worn it the night before to the Hard Deck, actually needing Bob to pick you up since your car was once again in the shop. The temperature was predicted to drop drastically that night, and since Payback and Fanboy had the bright idea to do ‘late night dogfight football,’ you’d told him that you wanted to ensure you were warm. You must have left it in his car when he’d dropped you off that night.

Bob hesitated for half a second before climbing into the driver’s seat of his truck. What if you needed your jacket? It totally wasn’t an excuse to see you.

Sydney knew him well at this point, simply waving hi to him as he entered the familiar campus building. He’d waved back, giving his thanks as she called out that you may not be in your office at this hour.

She’d been correct, but Bob had been by enough to know you had your class schedule written out on the board by the door of your office.

Contemporary Dance, 11:30 a.m. Room 149

The signs were easy enough to follow, leading him down the hallway toward the area he knew held the multiple dance studios. Your voice was easy enough to pick out as he stepped inside the room, catching you leading your class in front of the full wall of mirrors. He’d never seen you dance until now, but it only took a second to see why they all called you Siren.

You moved in a way that was graceful yet powerful, commanding and yet gentle all the same. Bob had to adjust the way he was leaning against the doorway, cursing himself for the fact that he was enjoying your dancing way too much, and the dirty thoughts in his head were fighting to come to the surface. You deserved more than being thought of in that way. You deserved a proper date, maybe over a nice meal with a walk along the beach. You deserved chivalry, for him to always open every door and walk on the outer edge of the sidewalk to keep you safe. You deserved more than his boyish, improper thoughts. What you deserved was the world, and Bob would give it to you if you just said the word.

You’d locked eyes with him in the mirror as the song and dance with your students came to an end, and his heart soared at the way it seemed your face lit up simply at seeing him. You bid a quick goodbye to your students, ushering them out of the room and onto their next class, before it was just the pair of you left as music still played over the room’s speakers.

“You didn’t text me and tell me you were coming?” you questioned the man, moving through the room to fix things up and put away anything your students had managed to move in the process of the class.

“You forgot this last night,” he held up your jacket. “Just figured I’d bring it back, sorry, I should’ve texted-”

“Bob, you’re more than welcome here whenever you want to come,” you cut in quickly, gesturing toward the far wall where your purse lay. “Thank you, just toss it over with the rest of my stuff.”

Bob did as you asked, now fully in the room with you, as he watched you fiddle with things around the room, moving them back to where he assumed they were before class had started. His hands found their way into the pockets of his jeans, keeping himself from wringing his hands together or from fiddling with the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel over and over again.

“I’ve never gotten to see you dance before…I get why they call you Siren,” he swallowed the small lump that seemed to form in his throat, slowly losing his nerve around you like he typically did. “Wish I knew how to do…all that.”

“Well, thank you, contemporary was one of the dance forms I primarily trained in during college,” you shot back at him, spinning on your heel to face him now as you tilted your head. “And come on, anyone can dance, it’s not that complicated.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen me try,” Bob laughed at himself, sheepishly rubbing at the skin on the back of his neck as he looked away from you. “I look like I have two left feet when dancing. Who knows how I’m going to survive this wedding in a few months.”

There was silence in the room before Bob heard you move. His eyes trailed back to you, watching as you grabbed your phone for just a moment, before the sweet sound of Kina Grannis’ voice overtook the room. His eyes stayed glued to you as you came to stand in front of him, holding out your hand with your palm facing the sky as you wore the prettiest, softest smile he’d ever seen.

“Dance with me?”

Bob thought surely that was the moment his heart was going to decide to give out on him, but in gazing at your kind eyes and smile full of affection, he placed his hand in your own and let you lead him.

God, your hand fit in his like it was made to be there.

He silently watched you, allowing you to wrap his one hand around your waist, giving it a squeeze before trailing your other hand to rest on top of his shoulder.

“Take a deep breath,” he followed your instructions as you gave a squeeze to his hand, still wrapped in your own. “Just follow me, I promise it’s not hard.”

Bob found his eyes glued to your feet as you slowly moved him around the room together, mumbling apologies every now and again as he stumbled or stepped on your toes, but you only ever gave him a comforting squeeze to his hand or shoulder. He never dared look up at you, afraid he’d lose all his cool if he had to look you in the eyes in this close proximity.

When he stumbled once more, you gave a small laugh, hand moving from his shoulder to his neck, gently tilting his jaw upwards to look at you.

“I promise it’s much easier if you don’t watch your feet,”

His eyes met yours, and it was like the entire world went silent in that moment, but the music playing through the sound system seemed to get louder.

But I can’t help, falling in love with you.

“There are those pretty blue eyes,” you teased as a blush coated his cheeks in seconds. It brought on another smile to see a similar one on your own, though. “Did Bradley tell you about their bachelor and bachelorette party idea?”

“He said they had an idea, just hadn’t told me yet,”

“Nat told me they thought a big combined party would be best, given that this friend group is just one giant pile of pilots,” Bob laughed, missing the feel of your hand on his jaw as it moved back to his shoulder. “Guess you and I have to get planning.”

“Maverick said Cyclone made it work so that we can all have a week off for it, just have to let them know when,”

“Perfect. Know what else is perfect?” Bob shook his head as your grin widened. “You are dancing perfectly since you stopped looking at your feet!”

Bob’s eyes widened as he looked down at his feet for just a moment, realizing you were right, before looking back up at you. It was like the world was throwing every sign in the world at him as the music seemed to feel louder once again.

For I can’t help, falling in love with you.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat once again, Bob mustered the softest smile for you he could.

“Guess I just have a great teacher,”

The weeks passed, and the wedding was only a month and a half out. You’d flown home with Natasha to your hometown in order to wedding dress shop with Nat’s sister and mother, and every detail had been meticulously planned out for the wedding. The venue had been chosen, a gorgeous little venue in the heart of San Diego just big enough to house the 150 or so guests that had been invited, and just a few blocks walk for the wedding party and family members who would be staying at the Lafayette Hotel San Diego.

The Best Man and the Maid of Honor had finalized the plans for the joint bachelor/bachelorette trip: a week stay in a gorgeous home by the Colorado River and just an hour’s drive from Lake Mead and Las Vegas, plenty of options for relaxing and true partying, just as Bradley and Natasha wanted. It had taken a while for Bob and you to hammer out the details, many dinners had been held in your office after stopping by, and many phone calls that managed to devolve into late-night conversations having nothing to do with the party planning. But Bob wouldn’t have it any other way.

He was hopelessly in love, and he knew it. Unfortunately for him, Bradley had caught on, too.

“Let’s go!” Natasha called out to the boys as they hopped out of Bradley’s truck, already running through the parking lot toward the campus building housing your office. “I want to get on the road before Hangman and the others beat us there. I want the best pick of the bedrooms!”

“Sweetheart, we’re the Bride and Groom, I’m pretty sure we automatically get best pick,” Nat flipped off her fiancé as the boys both laughed. The second she’d turned around, Bradley threw his arm over Bob’s shoulder and tugged him in. “So…want to finally tell me what’s up with you and little Miss Siren?”

Bob shook his head, trying to fight off the flush on his cheeks. The questions from Bradley on the topic had increased tenfold over the last few weeks, and it was getting harder to lie to him.

“We’re in charge of handling a bunch of the backend shit of your wedding, Rooster,” Bob managed to remind his friend as they reached the doors of the campus building. “We spend a lot of time together, that’s all.”

“But you’re in love with her, are you not?” Bob groaned, opening the glass doors and letting Bradley walk ahead of him. “I’m just asking! We can all see it, the entire squad has money in the betting pool for when you two will finally buck up and figure it out. Phoenix has interrogated her so many times and gets nowhere on it.”

“We’re about to leave on your joint bachelor/bachelorette trip, there’s enough love in the air with the two of you. Don’t worry about me and my non-existent love life,”

Bradley made another comment under his breath, but Bob didn’t catch it. His gaze quickly found Natasha at the receptionist's desk, talking to Sydney.

“I’ve been here once, but the building still confuses me. I can’t remember how to get to her office,” Natasha explained to the girl as Sydney simply laughed, waving it off.

“I understand. I used to get confused here all the time. It’s just up those stairs-” she cut herself off as she saw Bob and Bradley approach, her face brightening up at the sight of the former. “Oh, Lieutenant! You guys don’t need directions, he knows where he’s going. I think she canceled her last class of the day, so she should be up in her office!”

Bob felt that flush return in full force as Bradley clapped him on the shoulder.

“Not in love with her my ass,” he gave his shoulder a squeeze after mumbling the words before moving to his fiancée's side, and Natasha was just watching Bob with a cocked head.

“How often are you here, Floyd?”

Bob stumbled for a moment, his hand immediately coming to rub the back of his neck as he tried to find the words. He wanted to say he wasn’t here THAT often…but he knew that was a lie.

Like always, you somehow managed to save the day.

“Oh! I told you guys you could’ve waited in the car!” you’d called out, descending the stairs from your office with your suitcase for the week in hand. You bid your goodbyes to the two students walking at your sides, coming to stand beside Bob as you glanced around the small group with a questioning eyebrow. “I could cut the tension with a knife here. What did I miss?”

“Just…learning some new information,” Natasha settled on, a grin lighting up her face as she hooked her arm through your own, dragging you away from the two boys who could only laugh. “IT’S PARTY TIME!”

An almost 6 hours drive to the booked AirBNB for the week was a slight pain in the ass, but the four of you managed as you all continuously joked that you hadn’t ended up delegated to ride in Hangman’s truck with him. Bob couldn’t help the fact that every so often, his gaze drifted to the backseat in the rearview mirror, to where you and Nat were engrossed in a thousand different conversations that differed from his own and Rooster’s. 

Without fail, you seemed to be looking back at him every time with a small smile that he treasured as if it were the sun itself.

Hangman, Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy had, sadly, beaten the Bride and Groom’s group to the house, but any bitter feelings surrounding it were forgotten as they’d gotten a look at the gorgeous home in person. Nestled in an area of the desert with barely any neighbors and gorgeous views for miles, including the Colorado River just down the hill from the long driveway, no one could harbor any ill feelings about anything as the sun was setting over the mountains and bathing the entire home in red, oranges, and pinks.

Bob had taken his own suitcase and yours, ignoring your protests, and brought them into the house. Everyone seemed to be running about, checking out the amenities, as some people put their claims on the bedrooms already. Natasha had dragged you off in the direction of the game room when Bob caught sight of Rooster whispering to Hangman and Fanboy, all three men watching him with a smirk.

“Hey, baby-on-board,” Hangman called out for him, smirk growing ever cockier by the second. “The rest of us have already staked claim on rooms, and of course, the couple has to share. Only room left is the sofa bed room in the back of the house…think Siren would mind sharing with you?”

If Bob’s eyes could pop out of his head, they would’ve. He shook his head, already knowing by the smirks on all three boys’ lips that this was planned well in advance.

“Guys-”

“Hey, Siren!” Fanboy called out just as you’d reentered the room. You stopped dead in your tracks, cocking an eyebrow at the guys as you waited. “Claims have already been staked on most of the bedrooms, perks of being the first ones here. You don’t mind sharing with Bobby boy, do you?”

“Guys, really-”

“I don’t mind,” you’d cut off Bob’s comment as he turned to you, eyes wide. He wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him, but he could’ve sworn he saw a flush cross your own skin as you looked at him. “Really, as long as it’s okay with you, I don’t mind.”

Bob looked back at the boys and their expectant smirks, then back to you, before finally taking a deep breath.

“Yeah…yeah, that’s fine with me,”

The truth was, Bob could barely focus on the entirety of dinner with the squad. He laughed, made jokes, and participated in conversations across the entire table the entire night, but his mind was stuck on the fact that he had to share a bed…with you.

Those nerves didn’t rest even as you both retired to your room for the night. The sofa bed had already been pulled out and made for the two of you. Bob had simply crawled into bed in silence, situating himself under the covers.

You entered the room moments later, having changed in the bathroom down the hall, and sent him a sweet smile as you crawled into your own side of the bed. Lying side by side, heads on their respective pillows, you both simply lay there and smiled toward one another.

“Sorry you got stuck with me,”

“I didn’t get stuck with you,” you’d rolled your eyes at his comment. “I’d take sharing with you over any of those Neanderthals any day.”

“Just promise not to drop any tables on me this trip, okay, Ikea?”

You’d laughed, even as you’d reached your foot out under the covers and kicked him lightly on the shin.

“If I managed to do that, I think I should get an award,” it was his turn to laugh as you flipped over, turning the bedside lamp off before tucking yourself into the covers. “Night, Bob.”

“Night, Ikea-”

“We’ve got to STOP with that nickname,”

He’d fallen asleep comfortably that night at your side, still laughing lightly to himself over that dumb little nickname he had for you that had found a way to stick. He wished his sleep had lasted longer, but it was quite the sight to see you leaning over him and shaking his shoulder with a grin.

“Get up!”

Bob groaned as you moved back to your side of the bed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab his glasses. The second his eyes focused, he checked the time on his phone. Slightly after 5:30 in the morning. Bob let out another groan when he saw the time.

“Why are you awake-”

“Just trust me and come on!”

He’d barely been out of bed and on his feet when you’d taken his hand in your own, dragging him down the dark hallways of the house. He wasn’t even fully awake enough to register your hand wrapped around his own.

The second you’d dragged him out onto the large patio deck of the home, he understood why you’d woken him up so early. If sunset had been pretty from this view, sunrise might’ve been even prettier.

The deep purple hues that crawled across the sky, blending into the fading night sky full of stars over the desert. The beginnings of reds and pink crawling out from the horizon, casting itself over the rolling desert hills and the Colorado River just barely in the distance, close enough he could see the colors reflecting off the water. He’d found himself leaning against the railing, gazing out at the colors for a moment before turning to you at his side, finding you already looking up at him.

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”

You’d turned back to the view, but Bob’s eyes, full of wonder, stayed locked on you as he spoke.

“Prettier than anything I’ve ever seen,”

You’d stayed out there for awhile, small talk flowing through you, reminiscing on moments with the squad such as that terrible late night dogfight football, or the time you’d all watched on as Rooster handed Maverick’s ass to him in pool at the Hard Deck. Your hands sat on the railing next to one another, just barely touching, as your arms sat pressed up against one another. If Bob had more confidence, if he’d thought that maybe you felt the same for him, he might’ve taken the leap and reached out to take your hand in his own.

Neither of you had any clue how long you’d been out there admiring the view and simply talking. Bob heard a small noise behind you both after a while, glancing behind you both. Rooster simply stood in the patio doorway, a genuine grin on his face as he raised his coffee cup at his best friend with a wink, before leaving you alone together once more.

It was a week of memories that none of them would ever truly forget.

The entire day spent on the shores of Lake Mead was full of laughter, and what Fanboy had nicknamed ‘dogfight chicken’, though it didn’t have any different rules than a normal game of chicken did. You and Bob had reigned victorious through every single round, though Bob wasn’t sure how. His thoughts were flooded with you, and the impure thoughts he was having at the thought that his head was, quite literally, between your thighs as you sat on his shoulders, was driving him insane.

That next morning was worse for his thoughts, when he’d awoken early in the morning to you nestled in his arms, head resting against his chest, and his arms wrapped around you. He’d laid still like that for what felt like hours, both terrified of waking you up and freaking you out with the position you were in, while also savoring every second of it in fear it would never happen again. He’d pretended to be asleep when you finally woke up, letting you be the one to extricate yourself from his arms. Neither of you mentioned it to the other.

One full day and night had been dedicated to the Las Vegas strip and all it had to offer. Rooster was constantly nudging Bob in the side the entire day, reminding his friend that his eyes were supposed to remain on your face, not on the slit of the dress you wore running up and exposing your thigh.

No one knew who had drunkenly suggested it, but somehow they’d found themselves at a Magic Mike show. Plenty of videos had been taken as a form of blackmail as Hangman was subjected to a lap dance from the performers of the show, constantly telling Coyote to ‘piss off about it’ the rest of the night.

That next morning, Bob had woken up to you entangled in his arms once again. And the morning after that.

The Dagger Squad’s final day of the trip was spent together at the home, simply enjoying one another's company as more stories of everyone’s childhood had been shared across the board. Bob had even been roped into a story of him working on his parents' ranch back in Montana at one point, which prompted a whole discussion on whether Bob was technically considered a cowboy or not.

The WSO had found himself frozen in the kitchen that night, simply watching you from the window. You and Natasha sat on the patio together, pointing up at the light pollution-free sky as you seemed to be watching the stars, discussing what could be seen that night, hundreds of thousands of miles above your heads. He’d watched you throw your head back laughing, and that tug in his chest when he looked at you seemed to increase tenfold in that moment.

It wasn’t long later that Rooster was opening his bedroom door, coming to find that it was Bob standing on the other side of the door and knocking frantically.

“Bob-”

“You were right…I’m in love with her,”

“Well,” both boys turned, seeing Natasha had entered the hallway at just the right moment to join her future husband for bed and hear the conversation occurring. Bob’s blood ran cold, fearing the worst, but she simply smiled at him. “It’s nice to finally hear you admit the obvious.”

A long conversation with his best friends came with the feeling of a small weight being lifted off his shoulders, of finally having admitted his feelings out loud. They’d encouraged him to act on it, to tell you how he felt, but Bob couldn’t get rid of the nagging insecurity in the back of his head that he was never going to be good enough for you.

When he’d returned to your room that night and crawled into bed, you were still awake. You had both simply laid there in silence for a moment, staring at one another, and Bob could see the hesitation in your movements for just a moment. You seemed to throw your inhibitions out the window, moving across the bed and slotting yourself into Bob’s arms, curling yourself around him as you buried your head into the crook of his neck.

It threw Bob for a loop. Every night this week, you’d awoken like this, tangled together, but he’d assumed that it had just naturally happened in your sleep, that one of you reached out for the other. But you were awake, you were both aware of what you were doing, and yet you took the leap anyway. Bob chose not to push his luck, not to ask, and simply wrapped his arms around you, closing his eyes with you tucked right against him where he felt you belonged.

“Can I tell you something?” Bob whispered to you after moments of silence wrapped up together, neither of you addressing the compromising position you’d put yourself in.

“Always,”

“You…” Bob struggled for a moment, trying to find his words and the right thing to say. ‘Love’ was dancing on his lips, but his insecurities tugged it back in. When he spoke again, he knew he meant the words, even if it was not what he meant to say. “You’re my best friend. Don’t tell Rooster that.”

There was a pause, then a soft laugh, as you seemed to cling to him tighter, your words and breath ghosting over his skin.

“You’re my best friend, too. Just don’t tell Nat,”

There had been another shift in the relationship between you and Bob in those next few weeks leading to the wedding night, and everyone seemed to be able to see it. A simple confession, albeit not the confession Bob had wanted to say that night, seemed to change everything.

Anytime the group was out together, you both were glued to one another’s side. This time, unlike in the months prior, it was as if the pair of you had to be touching. If you were all walking somewhere, your arm was linked through his with your hand resting on his bicep. The entire group noticed the way that, as you all hugged one another goodbye at the end of a night, you and Bob seemed to linger in one another’s embraces longer than usual.

There was the night at the Hard Deck, laughing over some story Maverick was telling them from the glory days, that Bob felt your hand reach for his under the table, wordlessly slotting itself into his own. That moment replayed in his head every single day and night, even as he fell asleep late into the morning hours with you still on the phone with him.

They were the moments that he couldn’t help but replay constantly, even as he stood in the preparation room of the wedding venue, adjusting his dress whites to ensure that nothing was out of place.

“How are we looking over here, Rooster?” Hangman called out, moving through the room to check on the groom himself. 

“Ready to do this thing,” Rooster told him as Bob joined the pair across the room. Bradley placed a hand on each of their shoulders, his Best Man and his only other Groomsman, all standing together in their matching Navy dress whites, and gave them a thankful smile. “Thank you both for doing this. For being here with me.”

Bob grinned at his best friend as Rooster pulled them both into a hug, before it was go time.

Bradley was already stationed at the altar behind the double doors before them, leaving Bob to stand just behind the doors, ready to lead the charge down the aisle for his best friends to get married. He turned as he heard the voice of Natasha’s sister behind them, taking her place beside Hangman for the walk. His gaze then turned to you as you slotted yourself to his side, and it took everything in him not to whisk you off your feet the second he laid eyes on the form fitting, navy blue dress clung to your body, or the plunging neckline he was desperately trying to keep his eyes off of.

“She’s all set up with her dad back there,” you’d told him softly, winding your arm through his as your hand lay on his forearm, eyes never leaving his own. “We’re good to go the second the music kicks in. You ready?”

“Think Rooster would kill me if I wasn’t, he’s antsy down there,” you’d laughed, and Bob had smiled. His favorite sound in the world. “You…you look beautiful.”

“Right back at you, Lieutenant,”

There were smiles and tears throughout the crowd as you and Bob led the charge down the aisle, taking your places on either side of where Natasha and Bradley would stand. The second Natasha was escorted down the aisle by her father, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house, Rooster and you included. Bob found himself watching you, though, as you happily took Nat’s bouquet from her hands through your tears.

They recited after their Pastor, they exchanged their vows, but Bob found his eyes betraying him and glancing at you more often than at his best friends. Every time he looked to you, he found you were already looking at him.

He knew there was no going back the second Natasha Trace and Bradley Bradshaw were pronounced man and wife, that they’d pulled one another into their first kiss as a married couple, and his eyes had drifted to you in the celebration. All he could think in that moment was that he wanted that to be you and him, that he wanted to hold you and kiss you and call you his forever.

It felt like a blur to Bob what happened next. The entire Dagger Squad joined together to perform the Arch of Swords for their best friends, smiles never leaving anyone’s faces. Bob had sat right next to you during dinner, unable to keep his eyes off of you the entire time. Then, you’d rose to your feet and took hold of the microphone passed to you, preparing for the speech you’d spent your entire life writing.

“If you don’t know me, the truth is you probably indirectly do. Because any story that Natasha has told you from any point in her life? I was most likely at every single one of those,” you’d turned to Natasha the second you said that, and Bob could see the tears in both of your eyes. “Natasha, or as many in this room know you, Phoenix, you hit me on the head with a soccer ball in Kindergarten, and I knew from that moment on you would be my best friend. I watched you fall in and out of love with both soccer and softball growing up, witnessed you punch two middle schoolers who broke my heart, and watched you fall in love with the idea of someday flying F-18s for the rest of your life. I’m forever proud to say that I’ve watched you achieve everything you’ve ever wanted in life, and I’m so happy that I’ve gotten to be here for all of it. But most importantly, I’m glad your passion also brought you the love you have always deserved. Bradley, I’m proud to call you one of my best friends in life now, and I could not be happier to know that you two have found one another.”

You’d raised your champagne glass through your tears, as the room followed suit, even as Natasha silently sobbed from her place beside Bradley.

“They say that love is simply just a friendship that caught on fire,” Bob’s breath caught for just a moment, swearing that he saw your eyes flicker to him for just a moment, before you continued to talk. “May it burn bright for many years to come, and fly higher than you both do every day in the San Diego skies.”

There were still the remnants of tears streaming down your face as you took your place beside Bob once again, allowing Natasha’s sister to give her own speech. Bob watched you in silence before, in a leap of faith, reaching his hand out for your own. You took it without a word, squeezing onto it in a vice-like grip and refusing to let go.

The reception was in full swing, and everyone was in party mode. Natasha and Bradley were the stars of the show in their first dance, revealed in their speeches previously to have been taught by none other than you.

The bouquet toss had the entire Dagger Squad erupting into cheers, almost trying to carry you off the dance floor, the second Natasha’s bouquet seemed to find you among the young women in the crowd as if meant just for you.

You. God, you had consumed every ounce of Bob’s thoughts for weeks and months now, and tonight was no different. In the ever-changing landscape that was life, you were like the North Star in Bob’s eyes, his one constant since the moment you’d walked into the Hard Deck.

“As a wedding gift to us, could you just grow some balls and finally ask her out?”

Bob jumped, startled, as Bradley and Natasha appeared at his side from where he stood on the outside of the dance floor. He sighed, seeing the expectant looks on their faces, before glancing back to where you danced with the rest of the fighter pilots you’d grown so close to over the last few months.

“She’s, like, walking perfection on legs, guys. She could do better than the socially awkward fighter pilot that is…me,”

“Except she doesn’t want to,” Natasha cut in. She sighed, resting a hand on Bob’s shoulder before glancing out toward her best friend. “I’ve known her my entire life, Bob, and she doesn’t take to people the way she’s taken to you. She looks for you in every room, she talks about you constantly…she was dying to meet you just from the photos I’d shown you. I’ve never seen her act the way she does when she’s with you, Bob.”

The words sparked a small flame of hope in his chest, a flame just strong enough to push away the insecurities that begged to claw their way out. He looked back at his best friends, the glow of marriage surrounding them, with that flame of hope shining in his eyes.

“What if you’re wrong?”

“What if we’re right?” Rooster cut in, giving him a small shrug. “Maverick said it best to me months ago…don’t think, just do.”

Don’t think, just do. Maverick always knew what to say, didn’t he?

A slower song had begun on the dance floor, and Hangman could see Bob stalking their way. A smirk crossed the man’s face as he took hold of your hand, spinning you in Bob’s direction, before leading the rest of the Dagger Squad off the floor.

Bob stood in front of you, mustering every ounce of confidence he could find in him, as he held out his hand toward you, palm facing the sky.

“Dance with me?”

A smile might’ve been permanently etched into your lips as you took his hand in yours. Bob’s other hand immediately found your waist, his hand resting on your lower back as he tugged you into him as tightly as he could, your other hand resting on his shoulder as the iconic Berlin song played through the reception.

Watching in slow motion as you turn around and say…take my breath away.

Neither of you said a word for a minute, though your eyes never left one another as you simply swayed side to side across the dance floor, fully aware of the watchful eyes of your friends on you from the sidelines.

“You know…” you were the one to start the conversation, somehow managing to pull yourself even closer to Bob. There was a teasing tone to your voice, nose bumping against his for a moment. “I’ve been kind of waiting for you to ask me out for months.”

A weight seemed to leave Bob’s shoulders the second you spoke, his mind finally being calmed with the fact that you did, indeed, return his affections, that it wasn’t all a misunderstanding in his mind.

“Thought at first it broke some kind of friendship code to fall in love with your best friend’s childhood best friend. Then…I got scared you wouldn’t feel the same,” you laughed lightly at his comment, though Bob could see the way you brightened the second he’d said the word ‘love’ in his explanation. “How long…how long have you felt this way?”

“The schoolgirl crush started when I dropped that table on you, even though I thought you were plenty cute just based on the photos Nat had showed me before,” to was Bob’s turn to laugh as your hand traveled up to the nape of his neck, tangling gently in the hair now carded through your fingers. Somewhere behind them, he swears he could hear Fanboy cheer at the motion. “Somewhere in the midst of a bunch of mini lunch dates and dancing with you for the first time is when it changed.”

“I’ve got you beat there,” Bob countered with a laugh, looking down sheepishly. “After I picked you up from work that one time, when the rest of the guys started calling you Siren. It changed for me after that night.”

There was a slight tug on the hair threaded through your fingers, and Bob resisted everything in him not to let out a groan. His eyes flicked back up to you immediately, almost pleading with you not to do that again before he dragged you out of the reception, and he could see the amusement dancing in your eyes at the reaction you received.

“It's not a competition. We know now,” you slid the hand that rested in his own back up his arm, instead cupping his jaw in your hand as a shiver ran through his body. “Though, I thought I was being quite obvious with literally cuddling you in bed.”

Bob’s now freehand found your hip, eliminating any space between you both as if it were even possible. Given their surroundings, he wouldn’t be surprised if there were murmurs about how what was happening was far from appropriate for the setting they were in.

“It should’ve been. We can blame my insecurities for that one,”

He watched you in silence, still swaying to the beat of the song. Your eyes flickered, for the briefest of moments, down to his lips as Bob’s grip tightened from the sight.

Watching in slow motion as you turn my way and say…take my breath away. My love, take my breath away.

His eyes fluttered half shut, throwing caution to the wind now that he knew he had you, and leaned in. His lips were met with your finger pressed against them, though, and when he’d opened his eyes, your pupils may have been blown wider and your voice may have gained a slight rasp it didn’t have before, but there was clear amusement dancing across your features.

“Trying to kiss me at the wedding of our best friends? How scandalous, you know it’s their night to be the center of attention,” Bob groaned, even as his cheeks flushed, forehead falling to your shoulder. He felt your body shake with laughter before your lips ghosted over his ear. “We’ve waited this long, Lieutenant, what’s a little longer?”

Longer was torture, Bob had decided, but it was a torture spent with you still wrapped around his side. You’d danced the night away into the early hours of the morning with all of your friends, until it was finally time to end what was surely the best night of Natasha and Bradley’s lives.

The newly married couple had bid everyone goodbye before they were off to their own private villa for the night. The wedding party and family made the trek down the road together toward the Lafayette, Hangman and Coyote holding up a very drunk Payback who was belting Celine Dion down the sidewalk.

You’d thrown your head back laughing, hand intertwined with Bob’s as you brought up the rear of the pack.

The squad all said their goodbyes to Maverick and Penny, who’d essentially stood in as Rooster’s family, and to Natasha’s own family, before they’d made their way to the floor blocked off specifically for them. Everyone had thrown out goodnight, disappearing into the private rooms to sleep off their hangovers into the early hours of the morning.

Bob was the last the the Top Gun pilots to still be standing at his door. He’d fished out his own door key, before pausing before inserting it into the lock, glancing down the other end of the hallway.

There you stood, shoes in hand as you leaned against the doorway of your open hotel room. Your eyes never left his, and Bob’s room key found it’s way back into the pocket of his dress whites as he was across the entire hotel room floor in seconds.

Your eyes never seemed to leave one another as you both drifted into the room, Bob’s hand splayed across the edge of the room door, shutting it softly behind you both. The second it was closed, the room was only bathed in the soft, nighttime light of Dan Diego that poured through the curtains and the warm, yellowed glow of the single lamp lighting up the corner of the room.

Bob’s hands found your waist as yours found his neck, and he fell into you as if you were two atoms destined to collide with one another from the moment you met.

Your lips were soft against his, your lipstick already having been smudged off throughout the night from the many drinks passed between friends, but he could taste the cherry and vanilla Chapstick buried underneath. That simple taste elicited a groan from deep inside of him as his desire to simply feel you, to hold you, overtook Bob.

He backed you into the closest wall, right beside the door of the room, and your body immediately arched into him. His hand slid it’s way from your waist down to your thigh, digging into it as he hoisted it up around his own waist, the slit up the dress giving way to allow you to cling to him in earnest.

His hair was a mess as your hands moved into it, your lips never parting. He simply tilted his head, swallowing the moan you let out the second he gripped onto your waist tighter and tugged you impossible closer.

“Pretty sure Fanboy is right next door,” Bob had managed to mumble into your lips, unable to fully pull away from you. You nipped at his lower lip, this time a deep moan leaving him which had you giggling back into the kiss.

“I’ve waited long enough to kiss you, Bob Floyd. I don’t really give a damn if we keep him awake,”

Bob pulled back slightly in the dim lighting, hand leaving your thigh to instead cup your cheek, to simply observe and memorize everything about you. He loved you, he loved you more than he ever thought it was possible to love someone, and he never wanted to forget the look in your eyes right now as you looked at him through lust riddled eyes.

Your hand found his, removing it from your cheek and instead to your back. His breath caught for a second as it touched the zipper at the top, and one single look in your eyes had him tugging it down as slowly and sensually as possible.

Bob could feel your breath catch the second his lips found your neck, leaving a trail across your skin and down to your collarbone as the zipper finally came undone, the pool of navy colored fabric dropping into a heap on the floor.

You’d barely given him a second to truly admire the masterpiece he thought was you as a whole before you’d tugged him back into a kiss, your hands working overtime to gently undo the buttons holding his Navy dress whites together.

His hat was long gone on the floor, and soon every article of his dress whites joined it. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, watching him quickly lean down to grab the formal clothing of his and yours, folding it neatly into a pile in the corner. When he’d looked back up, you were standing just inches away, falling back into his arms without another word. His own breath caught, shiver running down his skin at the feeling of your soft, supple skin simply on his igniting a fire in him he’d never felt before.

Your hands came up, adjusting his glasses to sit on the bridge of his nose as they were meant to, and Bob wasted no time in pulling you back into a bruising kiss that had you falling back onto the lush, fancy bedspread behind you both.

As you’d crawled your way back up the bed, head hitting the pillows waiting by the ornate headboard, Bob simply hovered over you, taking you all in fully for the first time, memorizing every square inch of you that existed. He wanted it all committed to memory.

His eyes trailed back to yours finally, to the shining affection and adoration in them, and the words finally tumbled out of his mouth.

“I love you,”

Your hands cupped his jawline, bringing him back down to you to place a gentle, loving kiss on his lips that he sighed right into, leaning into the feel of you that he was already addicted to.

“I love you too,”

The pair of you stayed there for a moment, wrapped up in the sweetest and most loving of kisses that rivaled the passionate moment the moment you’d stepped into the room. Until Bob began to laugh lightly against your lips, the actions bringing a smile to your own face.

“What’s so funny, Lieutenant?”

He shook his head, backing up for just a moment to fully look down at you.

“It’s just uh…you know what they say about the Best Man and the Maid of Honor, don't you?”

Your laughter rang through the room immediately, and he knew Natasha must have said something to you along the same lines of what Bradley had whispered to him in the middle of the Hard Deck. Your hands ran down his shoulder, taking hold of his biceps with a small squeeze.

“Something about how they’re always destined to fall in love. God, how cliché of us,”

Every moment with you flooded Bob’s head in that moment as he looked down at you. From the moment you’d walked into the Hard Deck, to the moment he danced with you, to that fated trip where it all changed, and every moment in between. To now, as you laid almost bare before him, gazing up at him with love written across every inch of your features, as if you’d do just about anything he could’ve asked of you in that moment. And you would, just as he’d do the same for you.

So, his thumb ran across your lips for a moment, before he’d taken the back of your neck in his hand and tugged you upwards into another passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of love his body had into it.

“Yeah…but I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

[queenofravens01]

While I would die for it be written for Buddie because how else (I'm quietly praying to fandom Gods that @pansysgothgf reblogging it means one day it will grace us), what if...

Madney AU 👀👀👀

Chim needs to get this job, and Maddie needs to get off grid to hide from Doug and reclaim herself and her life.

And maybe she grew up near the ships or lighthouses or whatnot, and she knows her marine stuff and wants to be close to it again. And what if Chim wants to do it to give back to community, to help sailors the same way they helped him (saved his life for example), to finally have a purpose?

And they meet in the pub after Chimney just lied during an interview and said he does have a wife because he never heard of this rule before. And Maddie hears his a little bit drunken complaints about "what a stupid rule, who even came up with that" at the bar. And she laughs and explains because she knows exactly why this rule exists and she actually agrees with it.

And I don't know who comes up with the plan - maybe it's Chim's drunken whimsy, or Maddie's desperation for a slice of normal life and a safe space, or maybe it's plain fate taking care of these two - but they come up with the idea, and show up to the lighthouse, and play married couple with no prep whatsoever and pray to God Chim's new boss and his very observant wife (Bobby and Athena) don't call them on their bullshit.

No one does, and they move in, and get to work, and with time, learn each other in-and-out. Chimney opens up about loosing his mother and then years later Kevin, and Maddie speaks of Daniel for the first time in decades - no one to listen in beside the waves and wind and her new not-husband. They talk about Chim's fear that he'll never find love, and Maddie's horror that her ex-love will. They talk books and movies, experiment with cooking, keep the light on for passing ships, and slowly fall in love.

And maybe Buck finds them - maybe he's a sailor now, or maybe he's been looking for Maddie for months. And maybe they make friends with doctor Henrietta who lives nearby and her family. Maybe they throw a spooky lighthouse dinner for all their new friends - Bobby and Athena, Hen and Karen. Maybe they learn to love and live with their full chests.

And maybe Doug finds Maddie one day. Maybe he attacks Chim and tries to get Maddie, only to meet his end at the lighthouse peak, swallowed up by the unforgiving sea. And then there's no reason for Maddie to stay, she is finally free - but she stays anyway because how could she leave her beloved Howie who keeps the light on and her very soul warm?

And maybe eventually, they raise Jee-Yun in there, and it's the most peculiar place to have a small kid running around - but they wouldn't have it any other way.

Apparently back in the day lighthouse keepers HAD to have a wife to get the job so they wouldn’t be too lonely and go insane. So what I’m saying is

Fake dating au where they pretend to be married so one of them can get a job as a lighthouse keeper.

[bullet-prooflove]

Four Bullets: Andrew 'Pope' Cody x Reader (feat: Smurf)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @fadeinsol

Companion piece to:

The Professional - Pope meets the love of his life when Smurf hires her to crack a safe.

Ethical Thieving - You introduce Pope to a new skill set.

Crazy (NSFW) - Pope's always been crazy but now he's also a man in love.

Tomorrow - Pope's family always fuck up the good in his life.

Do Over Day (NSFW) - Pope tries to make up for the day before.

Everything - Pope's family life clashes with your time together.

Positive - Pope didn't expect for it to happen sooner rather than later.

Smurf finds out about you because of the letters.

The dozens that you wrote to Pope over the three year stint he was incarcerated in Folsom.

She’s suspected that something’s been going on with him for a while. He’s been less sullen than usual, more cooperative. When she heads to the motel room they rented for him, she discovers he hasn’t stayed a single night. His stuff is there though, laid out neatly, organised as if he was still in prison.

It’s to fool them, she realises as she sits on the edge of a bed made with military precision. The other boys have been here numerous times, picking him up, dropping him. Just like her, they had thought he lives here.

Her gaze comes to rest on the air vent underneath the TV. Back home it was the place where he always kept his secrets, it stands to reason it’s the same here as well. She uses a nail file to unscrew the metal grate, plunging her hand inside to find a stack of envelopes that smell faintly of the ocean, all tied up with a slender piece of string.

OCD is a side effect of Pope’s disorder so each one is arranged chronologically. She sits on his bed and reads every one of them, the details of your relationship unfolding before her eyes.

Her rage builds as she sets down each one because it was her that let the snake into the garden, who introduced you to her family five years ago and you’ve been fucking Pope ever since, trying to steal him away from her.

It’s when she reads about the wedding that she turns apoplectic.

The day that Pope was arrested was the day he was meant to meet you on the steps of the courthouse. You’d been waiting there for him wearing a pretty white summer dress, holding a bouquet of Californian wildflowers.

The fact he was going to marry you…

She knows she’s not on the winning side of this battle.

She loses it then, tears the letters to shreds before burning the pieces in the sink in his bathroom. She washes the ashes down the plug hole, watching the essence of your relationship disappear with a loud glug.

She intends to kill you when she reaches your beach house. She has a unregistered Glock in her purse and the desire to put a bullet right into your thieving little heart. She pounds on the door for five minutes before she realises you aren’t there.

 She checks the locator on Pope’s phone, sees it’s switched off and realises the two of you must be together.

She breaks into the house instead, cataloguing the evidence of her son living there with you.

His clothes in the dresser, his book on the nightstand. She picks it up, flicking through the pages and a picture falls out into her lap. Her blood runs cold as she studies it because she knows the only thing more powerful than a mother’s love, is the one you have for your own child.

The sonogram is dated a couple of days ago. A baby girl, she summarises from the names written in his blocky scrawl on the back.

Freya, is the one that’s circled. Freya Halliwell.

Your last name, not his.

It’s like he’s trying to erase her completely.

The betrayal lodges in her throat as she pockets the sonogram, leaving the house. She knows what she has to do, and she knows the way to do it. That love he has for the baby, it can be weaponised, turned against him.

She’s sitting at the table in the makeshift kitchen of his motel room when he arrives back there later that afternoon. The sonogram sits in the centre, four bullets resting on top of it.

“You need to end it.” She tells him, her fingertip toying with the first bullet. “Move back into the house, become part of the family again.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands by the door way. “I belong to them now, her and our baby. We’re going to get married, we’re going to raise her-”

“Pope, I’m not asking. I have four bullets here.” She tells him, using her fingertip to count them out in a line. “One for each of the family members you’ve lied to over the past five years. Now take out your phone and put it on speaker or I will empty each one into her stomach.”

“You can’t do this…” He pleads, his voice breaking. “You can’t take them from me-”

“I can and I will if you don’t pick up that fucking phone.” She snarls, her other hand coming to rest on the Glock just in case he gets any ideas about turning the tables on her. “Break her heart, or watch her die. It’s your choice”

Love Pope? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[jkwrites-m]

Another Time (5)

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: soulmates, past life, thriller, smut, fluff, angst

Word Count: 9.7k

Summary: When Y/N and Jungkook begin sharing vivid dreams of each other, their connection feels too real to ignore. When tragedy from a past life begins bleeding into the present, they’re forced to unravel the mystery of love, betrayal, and fate.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, cursing, sexual tension, hard drug usage, alcohol consumption, cigarettes, angst, secrets, lies, stalking explicit: unprotected sex, oral (f & m. receiving), shower sex, fingering, kissing, slight degradation, praise, spanking, breast play, SLIGHT somnophilia(everything is consented in this fic 🫶)

A/N: COUPLE THINGS: thank you everyone for reading so far!! This is the where things start getting into the thriller portion so read with caution! double the smut bc I was ovulating when i wrote this lmao 😮‍💨

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST

prev ♡ next

═══════

The low buzz of fluorescent lights mixed with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. It was a Thursday night in the summer, and even though Jungkook had promised Y/N he’d be home early, he’d somehow found himself pressed against the sticky wood bar of Neon Mirage, half-listening to Jimin laugh beside him. The dive was small and grungy- brick walls covered in music posters, ashtrays full on every table, and a jukebox in the corner playing a soft hum of Oasis through a haze of chatter and clinking glass. Jimin shoved another whiskey his way, slurring, “To freedom before marriage, my guy.”

Jungkook smirked, lifting his glass, though his stomach twisted. “To freedom,” he echoed hollowly, taking the shot with a slight wince.

They were drunk. Stupidly drunk. Jungkook’s head spun as the liquor surged through his veins, each movement softened by the cloud of alcohol. “Shit, I need to piss,” he muttered.

Jimin laughed, nearly falling off the stool. “Let’s go, bro.”

The bathroom was barely lit, the mirror cracked down the middle. Jimin fished something from his pocket and held it out, thin, white lines lined the toilet paper dispenser.

Jungkook hesitated, looking at his reflection. Y/N’s face flickered in his mind, the soft way she smiled at him over coffee, her sleepy voice in the morning. He should walk away.

But Jimin nudged him. “Come on. Don’t be a pussy. Live a little before domestic life swallows you whole.”

That was all it took. Jungkook leaned down, inhaled sharply, and let the world go fuzzy.

Jungkook stumbled out of the bathroom, laughter caught in his throat as he wiped a trace of white powder from beneath his nose. Jimin followed, equally unsteady, clutching the wall for balance. The bar was dim and smoky, its walls stained from years of late nights and spilled secrets. Neon lights buzzed above them, flickering in time with the low thump of a 90s beat that barely masked the conversations echoing around them.

"Hyung," Jungkook slurred, gripping Jimin's shoulder as they approached the patio, "don’t tell Y/N, okay? She’d be so pissed."

Jimin offered a tight smile, nodding a bit too eagerly. "Of course not, bro. Your secret’s safe with me."

Outside, the air was thick and warm, summer clinging to their skin like a second layer. Jungkook pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his jacket and lit one, passing another to Jimin. They leaned against the brick wall, watching the streetlights blink across the empty road.

"You ever just... feel like everything's perfect and terrifying all at once?" Jungkook murmured, eyes hazy as he took a drag.

Jimin laughed softly. "Only every day."

"I love her, man," Jungkook said, more to the night than to Jimin. "Like, I can’t breathe right when she’s not around. She makes everything feel less… dark. Even when I mess up. Even when I feel like I’m not worth a damn thing."

"You are," Jimin said quietly. "You’re one of the good ones, Jungkook."

Jungkook chuckled, but his eyes remained distant. "We’re getting married in three months. Can you believe that? Like, really married. White dress, vows, everything. And I keep thinking... what if something ruins it? What if I ruin it?"

Jimin turned away, his jaw clenched. "Then don’t," he said sharply. "Just don’t screw it up."

Jungkook blinked, a bit taken aback by the tone. "I’m not trying to. I’m doing everything I can. That’s why I can’t tell her about tonight. Just this once. She doesn’t need to know every stupid thing I do."

Jimin nodded, but didn’t speak. The silence between them stretched, uneasy.

Inside, the bar's lights glowed like a portal to another world- a world where mistakes didn't echo and love wasn't a fragile thread waiting to snap. Jungkook stared into the night sky, the stars spinning slowly overhead, and he whispered, “I’d give up everything for her. Even my life. If it came to it, I’d do it all again, just to love her one more time.”

Jimin's expression soured. He looked at Jungkook for a long beat and then exhaled, smoke curling between his teeth. "Yeah," he said. "Love."

But his tone was hollow.

And Jungkook, in his drunken haze, missed the flicker of resentment in Jimin’s eyes.

They stayed outside a while longer, smoking in silence, the distant hum of traffic merging with the thudding bassline from the bar. Somewhere deep down, even through the haze, Jungkook felt it, something shifting. A storm slowly building on the horizon.

But he just smiled, thinking of Y/N, of their shared mornings and her sleepy smile. He let himself believe in the dream a little longer.

Even if it was laced with lies.

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

I sat on the edge of my bed, my phone cradled in my hand, thumb hovering over her contact. The soft hum of the ceiling fan blended with the birds chirping outside, but the calm did nothing to soothe the storm inside my chest. Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, thin stripes of light cutting across the hardwood floor, dancing slightly as the wind stirred the curtains.

My heart thumped heavily beneath the faded white tee I hadn’t bothered changing out of since last night. There was a bitter aftertaste of regret sitting on my tongue, not from alcohol, but from omission. The dream still clung to me like smoke. The laughter, the bar, the damn neon glow reflecting off Jimin’s half-lidded eyes. The powder lining the edge of the sink. My own voice saying “Don’t tell her.”

And now here I was, phone in hand, waiting to call the one person I couldn’t stop thinking about and the one person I had just lied to.

I exhaled hard, then hit dial.

My pulse kicked harder with every ring. Once. Twice.

She picked up on the second.

“Hey,” her voice came through, soft and drowsy. That voice was a comfort and a blade all at once.

“Hey angel,” I replied, trying to sound light, even casual, though the tightness in my chest betrayed me. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I’ve been up for a little while,” she murmured, though the rasp in her voice gave her away.

I rubbed the back of my neck, staring at the wall like it might give me courage. “I, uh… had another dream. About us. 1996 again.”

There was a pause. Just a second or two but enough for me to imagine her sitting upright, sheets tangled around her legs, sleep falling off her like petals. I pictured her brows furrowed in the way they always did when she was trying to piece things together.

“What happened this time?” she asked, voice clearer now.

I drew in a breath, slow and measured. “I was out with Jimin. We’d just gotten off work and ended up at this bar. It was one of those places with old vinyl booths and that sticky lacquered wood. Neon beer signs everywhere. There was a jukebox playing something slow, maybe Eric Clapton or Sade, I don’t know. It all felt so… familiar.”

Her breathing shifted over the line, quiet but present.

“We drank a lot,” I continued. “We were laughing, messing around. It wasn’t wild, just a little reckless. After a while, we went outside to smoke. I remember leaning against the brick wall, looking up at the streetlight. I couldn’t stop talking about you.”

A faint smile touched my lips, but it faded quickly.

“I told him how much I loved you. How I couldn’t wait for the wedding. I said it like it was the only thing in the world that made sense. Because in that moment, it was.”

“Jimin was there?” she asked again, her voice curious but cautious.

“Yeah,” I slowly said. “He’s been in a lot of the dreams lately.”

“That’s so strange. I still can’t place him,” she said thoughtfully. “But he always feels so familiar. Almost like I should remember him.”

I nodded to myself, even though she couldn’t see me. “Same here. In the dream, it’s like we’ve known each other forever. He’s charming. Funny. Knows me better than most people. But… I don’t know.”

“What?”

“There’s something in his eyes sometimes. Just flashes. Like he’s watching us too closely. Like he knows something we don’t. It gives me this weird feeling I can’t shake.”

A beat of silence followed before Y/N softly asked, “Do you think he’s involved? In what happens to us?”

I didn’t answer right away. My eyes flicked to the wall clock. 9:41am. Tick… Tick… Tick…

“I don’t know,” I finally said, voice low. “But I’m done assuming anyone is innocent. Not anymore. Every face, every sentence… we need to watch it all. Like clues.”

Y/N’s breath caught gently, the weight of it sinking into me through the receiver. Then, quietly: “I’m glad you called. I remembered bits of the dream too. Not all of it, but I remember you. You looked… you looked really happy.”

My stomach twisted.

I wished I could leave it at that.

But the image of that bathroom mirror wouldn’t leave my mind. The powder. My fingers. The sharp sting up my nose. The memory of whispering “Don’t tell her. Please.” to Jimin, who had just laughed and slapped my back.

And she hadn’t seen it. At least not yet.

“I wish I could say everything,” I muttered under my breath before I could catch myself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, forcing a laugh. “Just… I love you. In every timeline. In every version of this life. We always find each other.”

She sighed, the sound so tender it nearly broke me. “I love you too. And I’m glad we’re in this together. We’ll figure it out. I believe that.”

I swallowed hard, voice raw. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she whispered, and there was something so steady in the way she said it- like a lighthouse in the fog, unmoving.

I clung to that word, let it sink in.

“I’ll see you later?” I asked, needing to tether myself to something real.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Let’s talk more later. Maybe even map things out.”

“Okay.”

We hung up, and I set the phone down on the bed next to me. The silence in the room was sharp. I stared at my hands, at the lines across my palms, like a maze. Like fate.

I should’ve told her. I knew that. But something inside me twisted violently at the thought of her looking at me differently. Of her seeing that version of me.

For now, she still saw me as someone she could trust.

And maybe that was all I had left to hold onto.

═══════

y/n’s pov:

It was a quiet morning, the kind that made the start of a workday feel almost gentle. The sun was still stretching over the skyline as I pushed open the glass doors to the office, the familiar scent of coffee and paper greeting me. I liked mornings like this. The calm before the inbox floods, before the phones start ringing. I dropped my bag onto my desk and booted up my computer. Before I could even open my email, I heard the sound of heels clicking briskly across the floor and a familiar voice calling out. “Y/N!” I turned just in time to see Nayeon approaching with a grin that made her look like she had just won the lottery. She always had this vibrant, magnetic energy that filled any room she walked into. “Morning,” I said, laughing. “You’re in a good mood.” “That’s because I had the best weekend of my life,” she announced, dropping into the chair next to mine like she was about to spill the juiciest secret ever. “Oh?” I leaned in, resting my chin on my hand. “Do tell.” She lowered her voice even though we were still alone on our floor. “I met someone.” My eyebrows shot up. “What?! You didn’t text me!” “I know, I know, I wanted to tell you in person!” she squealed, clapping her hands. “His name is Jimin. He’s gorgeous. Like, infuriatingly good-looking. And smart. We met at this pop-up gallery on Friday. He complimented the painting I was staring at, and we ended up talking for hours.” “Wow,” I said, genuinely impressed. “Sounds like fate.” She giggled. “Right? I already told him I have a good feeling about us. We went out for coffee yesterday, and I’m seeing him again tonight.” “I love this for you.” I meant it. Nayeon was one of those people who wore her heart on her sleeve, and she deserved someone who could keep up with her bright spirit. “You know what we should do?” she said, eyes sparkling. “Double date.” I blinked. “Really?” “Yeah! You and Jungkook, me and Jimin. Let’s make it happen. Maybe next weekend? I want to see what your perfect boyfriend looks like in person.” I felt myself blush a little. “He’s not perfect. But… yeah. That sounds fun.” Truthfully, I loved the idea. I wanted to do everything with Jungkook, Dumb couple things, fun couple things, every kind of thing. A double date felt like a sweet, normal thing that grounded us in the real world, something untouched by the dreams and the quiet unknowns we were constantly trying to decipher. “He’ll love that,” I added. “He’s really social, so I think he’d get along with Jimin.” “Great!” Nayeon beamed. “Let’s pick a place and set it up.” As we chatted logistics, my mind wandered to Jungkook. I could already picture it- him in a soft sweater, his hand warm in mine, the way he always laughed a little too loudly at his own jokes. There was a peace to the thought that made my chest swell. For a moment, the dreams and the questions faded. All I could feel was how much I loved him and how much more I wanted to experience with him.

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, leaning on the counter as Nayeon poured herself a second cup of coffee. The aroma swirled between us like steam from the mug, wrapping our conversation in quiet comfort. There was a sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about Jimin, and it made me happy for her—really. She deserved someone who made her feel the way Jungkook made me feel.

"He’s just... charming," she gushed, her cheeks tinged pink. "Like, he listens when I talk, remembers little things I say, and texts me good morning even before I wake up sometimes. It’s cheesy, but it makes my day every time."

I smiled, genuinely touched by her joy. "You light up when you talk about him. I’m so glad you met someone who treats you like that. You deserve it."

Nayeon grinned. "Thanks, Y/N. I mean, we’re still getting to know each other, but I haven’t felt this kind of ease with someone in... well, maybe ever. You and Jungkook kind of gave me hope, you know? Watching how in sync you two are."

That pulled a shy laugh from me. "We’ve been through a lot to get here. But yeah, I think we’re in a really good place now. He makes me feel safe. Like, no matter what chaos is around us, we’ve got each other."

"That’s beautiful," Nayeon said, softly. Then her grin returned. "So what do you say? You, me, Jimin, Jungkook. Dinner next weekend? Maybe that new place near the riverwalk?"

"Yes!" I nearly jumped. "Let’s do it. I want to do all the couple things while we can. Weekends go by fast, you know?"

Nayeon laughed. "You’re such a romantic. I love it."

We laughed together, the moment sealed in simple joy. I didn’t know who Jimin really was just that he made my friend happy. And that was enough. For now.

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

The studio always smelled faintly of fresh paint and old wood, comforting, lived-in, like the hum of creativity still lingered in the walls. I dropped my keys on the front table and slipped off my sneakers, feeling the familiar creak of the floorboards under my feet. Taehyung’s music leaked from his editing booth, something lo-fi and grainy with a synth line that curled in your ear. “Yo,” I called out, walking past the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Taehyung appeared a second later, his curls a bit messy, paint smudged on the hem of his white tee. “Hey. You’re back early.” “Yeah, just needed some air,” I said, twisting the cap and taking a sip. He raised a brow, leaning against the counter. “That kind of air?” I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. “Nah, not like that. Things are actually good. Really good.” He folded his arms and gave me that half-smirk he always wore when he knew a story was coming. “So spill.” So I did. I told him everything. About how Y/N and I had been syncing up more, how we were talking, planning, even dreaming together. Literally. I told him about the dreams, the ones from 1996, the ones that felt like déjà vu turned up to eleven. I paused. “There’s something I didn’t tell her, though. About the bar dream.” Taehyung’s brows lifted. “Go on.” “I did coke. With Jimin.” I ran my fingers through my hair, the guilt crawling back up my spine. “And I didn’t tell her. I couldn’t. It didn’t feel like me, Tae, but it was me. In that life.”

Taehyung tilted his head slightly as he leaned back in his chair, a curious smile playing on his lips. "So, let me get this straight... you’ve been dream-hopping with Y/N, discovering pieces of a past life together, and now you’re feeling guilty over something dream-you did?" Jungkook ran his hand through his hair, exhaling hard. "It sounds insane when you say it out loud like that." "It is insane," Taehyung said, laughing. "But it’s also kind of beautiful, in a weirdly twisted rom-com kind of way." "It doesn’t feel beautiful when I wake up with this knot in my stomach," Jungkook muttered. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, gaze fixed on the floor. “I keep hearing her voice in the dream, and I keep thinking about how hurt she would be if she knew. And I hate that I’m keeping it from her in real life too.” Taehyung grew serious. “You really love her.” “More than I thought I could love anyone,” Jungkook admitted, his voice low. “She’s it. There’s no one else. There never was.” The studio fell quiet for a moment except for the hum of the monitors and faint vibrations from the bass track Taehyung had been mixing earlier. “And this whole dream thing, it’s more than just dreams,” Jungkook added. “It feels like pieces of us got scattered in another life, and now they’re falling back into place.” Taehyung rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “You think the cocaine thing matters that much?” Jungkook shot him a look. “Wouldn’t it matter to you if your girlfriend dream-saw you snorting lines in a bathroom and then lying about it?” “I mean… yeah, I guess that’s not ideal,” Taehyung admitted. “But it wasn’t you. It was 1996 Jungkook. Different time, different circumstances. And you were drunk. Doesn’t excuse it, but it’s not like you’re doing that now.” “I still feel like it reflects something deeper. Like... how easily I can fall into a lie to protect her.” Taehyung leaned forward, serious now. “Okay, listen to me. That kind of guilt can eat you alive. But if you're honest with her, even just about how it made you feel, without giving her the whole line-snorting montage, it could mean everything.” “I don’t want to lie anymore,” Jungkook said, quietly. “But I’m scared. Scared it’ll change how she looks at me.” “Bro, she’s looking at you like you hung the moon. I saw the way she smiled at you at the apartment the other week. Even when she was a little off that day, her eyes never left you.” A flicker of warmth spread through Jungkook’s chest. “She wants to do a double date soon. Her coworker has a new boyfriend she’s excited about.” “Oh yeah?” Taehyung perked up. “You down for that?” “Yeah. I think it’ll be fun. She’s been talking about wanting to do more couple stuff.” “Damn, domestic Jungkook. I never thought I’d see the day,” Taehyung teased. Jungkook laughed for the first time in hours. “Yeah, me neither. But I want it. All of it. Even the stupid fights and uncomfortable conversations. If it means I get to wake up next to her for the rest of my life, then yeah- I’ll take it.” Taehyung watched him, then stood up and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You should invite her over tonight. I’ll cook. Make it nice. No dream drama, no deep existential confessions; just you, me, her, and dinner.” Jungkook nodded slowly, the idea bringing a strange calm to his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.” “And maybe don’t let dream-Jimin near our liquor cabinet,” Taehyung added with a smirk. Jungkook groaned. “God, that guy gives me weird vibes.” “Same. Just... watch him.” “I will,” Jungkook promised. 

“Also,” he added, stepping away, I laughed. “You’re gonna cook?” Taehyung winked. “You trust me with your secrets. Trust me with the stove.”

═══════

My thumb hovered over the screen before I finally tapped out a text.

Jungkook: Hey, Tae’s making Korean BBQ at our place tonight. Wanna come over? Just us three. Around 7?

Y/N’s reply came seconds later.

Y/N: Umm YES?! Dinner date with you and Taehyung? Say less.

I smiled, relieved and excited all at once. As the hour neared, I changed clothes three times, nothing looked right. I wanted to look casual, but not like I hadn’t tried. When the doorbell rang, I was in the kitchen with Taehyung, helping set out side dishes. Y/N walked in, and my heart did a full somersault. She wore light-wash jeans that hugged her thighs perfectly and a snug, cropped long-sleeve tee that showed just enough skin to drive him insane. Her hair was down, framing her face, and her lip gloss was the shade I always told her I liked best. “Hey,” she greeted, her smile lighting up the room. Taehyung looked up from the grill, grinning. “You look amazing, Y/N.” I cleared my throat, eyes still fixed on her. “You look… wow.” Her cheeks flushed. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Dinner was loud and full of laughter. Taehyung kept cracking jokes about the first time he met me, how awkward I was, how he nearly burned the apartment trying to cook instant ramen. Y/N was doubled over with laughter more than once, and I couldn’t stop glancing at her like she was some dream I couldn’t believe had come true. When dinner wrapped, Y/N stood and began clearing the plates. “I’ll just put these in the sink,” she offered. “I’ll help,” I said, rising quickly, catching a knowing smirk from Taehyung. In the kitchen, she rinsed a bowl and leaned forward slightly. I slid in behind her, my hands settling on her hips as I pressed against her back. Y/N leaned back slightly in my arms, letting her head rest on my shoulder as she rinsed the plate in the sink. The water splashed quietly, but my pulse was louder in my ears. I hadn’t let go of her since I slipped in behind her, body pressed against hers like a heatwave. My lips skimmed along the line of her jaw, barely grazing, teasing. I hope she could feel the tension radiating off me  not just lust, but the raw affection in my touch.

“You know you’re driving me crazy in this outfit, right?” 

“You looked so fucking good tonight,” breath warm against her skin. “I couldn’t stop watching you. Every time you laughed, I fell a little harder.”

She chuckled, still rinsing. “Is that so?” “Yeah,” I murmured, trailing kisses from her neck to her shoulder. “After tonight… I’m going to take my time with you. No distractions. No holding back.”

She smiled, cheeks flushing even under the steamy warmth of the kitchen. “You’re such a sap.” I chuckled, hands sliding from her waist to her hips, thumbs rubbing small circles through the denim. “Only for you.” My lips trailed downward, placing soft kisses along her neck. “You have no idea how many times I imagined this... you, here, with me, in this space... like we belong.” Y/N turned her head slightly to glance at me. “We do belong.” I nodded against her. “Yeah. We do.” We stood in silence for a beat, the kind that didn’t demand filling. It was that rare, easy quiet that came from intimacy, not absence. I felt her breath hitch as my hands started to slide up under her shirt, palms warm against her skin. Then- “Ahem.” Taehyung leaned against the doorframe, a wide grin on his face. “Should I take that as my cue to go to bed?” I jumped back like a teenager caught sneaking kisses behind the bleachers. Y/N laughed, biting her lip as she turned back to the dishes. Taehyung eyed them with a smirk. “You guys are ridiculous,” he said, putting his glass in the sink. “You know, I think I preferred when you two were awkward and shy. Now you’re all gooey and PDA-heavy.” “Shut up, Tae,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help but smile. Taehyung dried his hands on a dish towel. “I’m happy for you. I really am. It’s good to see you like this. You’re softer around her. More... human.” I glanced at Y/N, then nodded at my friend. “Thanks, man.” With a mock salute, Taehyung left the kitchen, disappearing down the hallway toward his room. We listened until his door shut behind him, then exchanged a look. “Where were we?” I murmured. Y/N smiled, turning around and wrapping her arms around my neck. “You were being very sweet.” I leaned in again, brushing my lips over hers, slow and deliberate this time. We kissed like we had all the time in the world-  lazy, unhurried. It was a kind of claiming, a quiet celebration of something sacred we were both beginning to fully understand. After a few moments, I pulled away just enough to speak. “Come shower with me?” Y/N nodded, my heart skipping as I took her hand. We moved through the apartment hand in hand, bodies brushing, anticipation thick between us. When we reached the bathroom, Jungkook reached in and turned on the water, steam already starting to fog up the mirror.

═══════

y/n’s pov: 

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, the sound muffled by the heated kisses Jungkook and I were already exchanging. Our lips moved hungrily against each other, tongues dueling in a rhythm that was both familiar and electric. Jungkook’s hands were everywhere, gripping my waist, pulling me closer as if the few inches between us were an unbearable distance. His hair brushed against my cheek. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that only comes from two people who know exactly what they want and are more than willing to take it.

Jungkook broke the kiss, his brown eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart stutter. “Move” he commanded, his voice low and rough, laced with a dominance that sent a shiver down my spine. I obeyed without hesitation, walking to the counter back pressing against the cool marble as he stepped closer, his muscular frame towering over me. His tattooed sleeve caught my eye, the intricate designs a stark contrast to his skin. He smirked, knowing the effect he had on me, and leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.

“Yours,” I murmured, voice barely audible, my body already thrumming with anticipation.

Without warning, Jungkook turned me around and pushed me forward, my chest pressing against the cold countertop. He wrapped one hand in my hair, tugging gently as he kissed the sensitive skin of my neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His other hand slid down my body, gripping my hips firmly before sliding my pants down my legs. They pooled at my ankles, and I stepped out of them, my skin prickling under his gaze. “Look at yourself,” he ordered, his voice sharp but laced with desire. He lifted my head up by her hair to face the mirror, my reflection staring back at me: flushed cheeks, tousled hair, and a body that was already aching for him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, his hand landing on my ass with a sharp smack. I gasped, the sting mingling with the heat already coiled low in my belly. He spanked me again, harder this time, and I had to bite my lip to stifle a moan. “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist before slipping between my thighs. I was already wet, my body responding to his touch with a desperation that embarrassed and excited me.

“Yours,” I repeated, voice breathless as his fingers slid inside me, slow and deliberate. He curled them, finding my sweet spot with ease, and I moaned loudly, my head falling back against his shoulder. “Fuck, Jungkook,” I whimpered, body arching into his touch.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my neck again as he quickened his pace. “Cum for me. Let me hear you.” His words were a command, and my body obeyed, orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I cried out, my nails digging into the countertop as he held me steady, his fingers relentless until I was trembling and boneless in his arms.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice soft now, almost tender, as he pulled his hand away. He wiped his fingers on a nearby towel, his touch gentle despite the roughness of their encounter. “Now finish getting undressed and get in the shower. I’m not done with you yet.”

I did as I was told, my body still buzzing with the aftermath of my orgasm. I stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over my skin, and turned to face him as he joined me. His eyes raked over me, and I felt a flush creep up my chest, his gaze as intimate as any touch. “On your knees,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I dropped to my knees without hesitation, my hands resting on his thighs as I looked up at him. “Please,” I whispered, voice a mixture of desire and submission.

Jungkook’s smirk was predatory as he grabbed my hair, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re going to take it all, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone mocking but affectionate. I nodded, breath quickening as I wrapped my hand around him, my touch light, teasing, before taking him into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as I took him deep, my tongue swirling around the head. I hummed my approval, the vibration sending shivers through him. “That’s it, baby. Take it all.” His hands tangled in my hair, guiding me as I bobbed my head, my lips sliding up and down his length. I moaned around him, the sound vibrating against his skin, and he cursed, his control slipping. “Get up,” he growled, pulling me to my feet.

He picked me up and pressed me against the shower wall, the tiles cold against my back, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I gasped as he thrust into me, filling me completely, the water raining down on us as our bodies moved in perfect sync. “You’re so tight,” he panted, his voice rough as he pounded into me, his hands gripping my hips tightly enough to leave bruises. “So fucking perfect.”

I cried out with each thrust, my nails digging into his shoulders as I met his rhythm, my body desperate for release. “Jungkook, please,” I begged, my voice breaking as my orgasm built again, faster and harder than before.

“Cum for me,” he demanded, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. His words were my undoing, my body shattering around him as I screamed his name, my walls clenching tightly around him. He followed moments later, his release hot and intense, his curses mingling with my moans as we clung to each other, breathless and spent.

When it was over, Jungkook held me close, his touch gentle as he washed me, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. He stepped out of the shower, wrapping me in a soft towel before leading me to the bathroom counter. He sat me down, his hands moving with practiced ease as he began my skincare routine, his touch light and careful. He brushed my hair, the strokes slow and soothing, and I leaned into him, body still buzzing with the aftermath of our encounter.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his lips pressing against my forehead. “Mine.”

I smiled, my heart full as he scooped me into his arms, carrying me to the bedroom. He laid me down gently, pulling me into his embrace, his body a warm and solid presence against mine. I tangled my fingers in his hair, my eyes drifting closed as his hand stroked my back, his touch a promise of comfort and care.

“Love you,” I whispered, voice soft and sleepy.

“Love you too,” he replied, his voice a rumble against my chest. And as we drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us, safe and complete.

═══════

I adjusted the strap of my black satin dress for the fifth time, pretending not to notice how quiet Jungkook had gotten since we arrived at his company dinner. The restaurant was a chic, dimly lit fusion place in Gangnam, buzzing with soft jazz and conversation, but my mind was somewhere else entirely. More specifically, it was stuck on the image of Jungkook passed out on our couch just eight hours earlier- fully clothed, shoes still on, one arm slung across his forehead like he was posing for some tragic painting.

And the worst part? The smell. The alcohol on his breath, the sweat, the faint hint of cologne he probably sprayed on to cover it up, none of it masked the guilt that clung to him like smoke.

“You okay?” Jungkook leaned over and brushed his hand against mine under the table.

I gave him a stiff smile. “Fine.”

His brows furrowed like he knew that wasn’t true, but he didn’t push it. Probably didn’t want a scene at his precious company dinner.

I sat there, listening to his coworkers compliment his work and laugh at his jokes, while the resentment inside me bubbled quietly like a kettle set to boil. I wanted to shake him. Ask him why he thought it was okay to show up at two in the morning, giggling and stumbling, trying to pull me into bed like everything was fine. He’d whispered apologies in my ear like it would make it all go away.

But it didn’t.

After picking at my plate and sipping a barely touched glass of wine, I excused myself and made my way to the bathroom.

The hallway was sleek with marble floors, gold accents, and mirrors lining the walls. I stepped into the bathroom, grateful for the temporary escape. I splashed a bit of cold water on my face and stared at my reflection. I looked tired. Like I hadn’t slept in days. Maybe I hadn’t.

The door creaked behind me. I caught her silhouette in the mirror before I turned.

Jennie.

She was poised as always, hair perfectly curled, lips tinted rose. Her dress clung to her like it had been stitched on, not a wrinkle in sight. She gave me a thin smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied, brushing my damp hands on a paper towel.

We stood in silence for a beat. It was awkward, but not unbearable. Until she spoke again.

“You look… tired,” she said, stepping closer to the sink.

“I’ve had a long week,” I said, not bothering to fake a smile.

She gave a small laugh, like something about that amused her. “I bet. Must be hard keeping up with Jungkook.”

My stomach twisted. I turned slightly to look at her. “Excuse me?”

She stepped closer. Not touching me, but close enough that I felt boxed in. “He’s a lot, isn’t he? So much energy. So many layers. And he’s not exactly… easy to handle. Especially when he drinks.”

I didn’t respond. My heart started to thud in my chest.

Jennie tilted her head. “But Jungkook… he’s not yours, not really. He’s mine. He always has been.”

I stared at her, the words slow to process.

“What?”

She smiled wider now. Too wide. Her voice dipped low. “I’m just saying! He deserves someone who understands him. Someone who can match him. You’re… cute. I’ll give you that. But you’re not enough for him. He’ll realize that eventually.”

I took a step back, hitting the counter behind me. “Why are you saying this?”

Jennie shrugged. “Because you need to hear it. You need to stop pretending this is some fairy tale. Jungkook belongs with me. I’m prettier. Smarter. Better. It’s only a matter of time.”

She turned to the mirror then, checking her lipstick, completely calm. Like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me in a public restroom.

And then, just like that, she walked out.

The door swung shut behind her, and I was left frozen, the echo of her words ringing in my ears. My hands trembled. I gripped the edge of the sink to steady myself.

I looked into the mirror again. My reflection stared back, shaken and speechless.

And I realized I wasn’t just angry anymore.

I was afraid.

═══════

I jolted awake, my body damp with sweat, heart pounding so hard it rattled my ribs. The room was quiet, too quiet. I reached out beside me instinctively, but the bed was empty since Jungkook had gone home last night. My fingers curled around the cool sheets like they could anchor me back to reality.

It was just a dream. Just a dream.

But Jennie’s voice echoed in my mind like it had been carved into bone.

“He’s mine. He always has been.”

I sat up slowly, brushing the hair from my face and trying to breathe through the wave of dread clawing at my chest. My hands trembled as I reached for my phone on the nightstand. It was only 6:23 a.m., but I didn’t care.

I opened our chat and started typing before I could talk myself out of it.

Y/N: Just woke up from a really bad dream.

Y/N: We were at your company dinner and Jennie followed me into the bathroom and basically threatened me. Said you were hers. Said she was prettier and smarter and that I wasn’t enough for you. 

Y/N: It felt… real. I’m still shaking. I know it’s dumb. Sorry.

I hit send, holding my breath.

The three little dots appeared almost immediately.

Jungkook: What the hell???

Jungkook: I’m so sorry. That’s not dumb, baby. That’s terrifying.

Jungkook: She said that?? In the dream?? Are you sure you’re okay?

I swallowed, staring at the screen. My heart hadn’t stopped racing.

Y/N: Yeah. I mean… not really. It just felt so aggressive. I didn’t even fight back. I just froze.

He replied again quickly.

Jungkook: That’s normal. It was a dream, but that kind of energy leaves a mark. 

Jungkook: Jennie’s showing up too much lately. I don’t like it.

Jungkook: Come over tonight? Please? We don’t have to talk about dreams unless you want to. I just want you close.

I smiled faintly, a little calmer now.

Y/N: Yeah. I’d like that. I just want to be near you.

Jungkook: Always.

I pulled the covers around me and sank back against the pillows, the anxiety slowly fading into the quiet hum of morning.

Maybe being near him tonight would remind me what was real.

═══════

It was early Saturday afternoon when a notification popped up on my phone screen. 

Nayeon: Still good for tonight? 7:30, right?

I sat on the edge of the bed, my thumb hovering over the keyboard for a second before typing back: 

Y/N: Yes! Can’t wait 😊

Jungkook was lounging on the couch in a soft black t-shirt, lazily scrolling on his phone when I called out to him. “Nayeon confirmed. Double date’s on.” He glanced over with that boyish grin. “Let’s make it a night to remember.”

I smiled as I made my way into the bathroom to start getting ready. The anticipation fluttered low in my stomach, not nerves, exactly, but something like them. I curled my hair loosely and kept my makeup soft. I threw on a pair of jeans that hugged just right and a long-sleeve cropped tee, form-fitting and black. When I looked in the mirror, I felt good. 

Jungkook let out a low whistle when I stepped out. “Damn, baby…” I rolled my eyes, but heat bloomed in my chest. “You’re not so bad yourself.” We hopped into his car around 7, a soft playlist filling the silence as we drove. His hand rested on my thigh, thumb making slow circles as we passed familiar streets. The city shimmered a little more than usual, and even though I couldn’t explain why, everything felt heightened. “I’m glad we’re doing this,” I said. He glanced over. “You mean double dating like normal people for once?” I laughed. “Exactly.” But the moment we walked into the bar and Nayeon waved us over, I felt it. There he was. Jimin. The same Jimin from the dreams. Perfect smile. Familiar eyes. Something in my chest pulled tight. Jungkook froze beside me. Our hands were still linked, but his grip tensed slightly. “Y/N, Jungkook- this is my boyfriend, Jimin!” Nayeon beamed. Jimin stood and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you guys. I’ve heard a lot.” I swallowed hard and smiled, willing my voice to sound normal. “Hi! So nice to finally meet you.” Jungkook shook his hand, and for a moment, their eyes locked for a moment. Nayeon and I ordered cocktails while the guys went for beer. The food came out in tapas-style small plates: crispy chicken bites, truffle fries, and some kind of fancy shrimp skewers that Jimin raved about. We shared, laughed, toasted, and even played a few silly question games that Nayeon insisted on starting.

Jimin was… sweet. Funny. Down-to-earth. A little too interested in Jungkook’s music, maybe, but not in a pushy way. Jungkook was polite, cautious, but I could see his mind running a mile a minute behind his eyes. Nayeon didn’t seem to notice. She was glowing with happiness, and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything that might chip away at that. As the evening wore on, Jimin and Jungkook began talking more naturally. They bonded over their favorite hip hop albums, both agreeing that 90s rap just hit differently. 

Jimin leaned across the table midway through dinner. “You produce too, right, Jungkook?”

“Yeah,” he replied, guarded but not unfriendly. “I’d love to sit in on a session sometime,” Jimin offered. “Just to see the magic.” “We’ll see,” Jungkook said with a small smile. I watched the tension in Jungkook’s shoulders slowly dissolve, and the way his smile came more easily as he relaxed. Jimin really did seem like a good guy, and for a moment, I let myself believe this might all just be one giant coincidence.

The conversation drifted to vacations, favorite foods, karaoke disasters. We laughed. A lot. My stomach hurt in the best way.

By dessert, I almost forgot we were suspicious of him. Almost.

When the check came, we all split it and stood outside for a while, saying our goodbyes and promising to do it again soon. The breeze had picked up, and I found myself leaning into Jungkook’s side, his arm coming up to pull me closer as we walked to his car.

The moment we were inside with the doors shut, Jungkook exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the entire evening. On the drive home, the streetlights blurred past my window, soft and warm against the night sky. 

“Well…” he started. “That was… something,” I finished. He looked over at me. “It’s him, right?” I nodded. “No doubt.” “But how? Why?” “I don’t know.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “But he doesn’t seem dangerous. If anything, he seemed… eager to connect.” “That’s what worries me,” Jungkook muttered. “Eager people are either really genuine or really good at pretending.” I reached for his hand. “We’ll keep our eyes open. But for tonight, we survived. And it wasn’t terrible.” He glanced at me, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “You looked insanely hot tonight, by the way.” I grinned. “Only tonight?” “Every night,” he said, leaning in to kiss me at a red light. By the time we reached his place, I was half-asleep, my head lolling gently toward the window. Jungkook helped me out of the car, chuckling softly as he guided me inside. We changed into pajamas wordlessly, brushing teeth side by side like we’d done it forever. I crawled under the covers and let out a contented sigh. Jungkook joined me moments later, wrapping an arm around my waist as we clicked on the TV. “I still can’t get over it,” I whispered. “It’s like the dream world is bleeding into the real one.” “I know but maybe this is what progress looks like. Maybe we’re meant to piece it all together.” I nestled against him. “One weird puzzle piece at a time.” We flipped on the TV, something light and stupid playing in the background. But I wasn’t really watching. I was just grateful. Grateful for the normalcy. The safety. The warmth. And even if it wouldn’t last forever, I was going to soak in every second of it while I still could.

═══════

jungkook’s pov: 

The soft glow of the television cast a warm, flickering light across the bedroom, its muted chatter blending with the steady hum of the air conditioner. Y/N lay sprawled across the bed, her hair fanned out like a butterfly wing on the pillow, her breathing deep and rhythmic. She was in that delicate space between sleep and wakefulness, her body relaxed but her mind still drifting in the haze of dreams. 

I propped myself up on one elbow, watching her with a tender smile. My hair fell across my forehead as I leaned in. The TV show droned on in the background, but my focus was entirely on her.

I slowly moved, deliberate and gentle, as I was afraid to wake her. My lips brushed against the curve of her neck, breath warm and soothing. 

“Hey, beautiful,” I whispered, voice a low murmur that tickled her skin. “You’re so gorgeous, even when you’re sleeping.” My fingers trailed down her arm, tracing the contours of her body with a lightness that made her shiver. She stirred slightly, a soft hum escaping her lips, but she didn’t fully wake. I chuckled softly, my lips curving into a playful smirk. “Shh, go back to sleep, baby. Let me take care of you.”

My hands moved lower, gliding over the curve of her hip. I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of her pajama shorts, fingers brushing against the soft skin of her stomach before dipping lower. Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyelids fluttering as a soft moan escaped her lips. 

She was still half-asleep, her body responding instinctively to my touch, but her mind remained foggy, drifting in a pleasurable haze. I curled my lips into a satisfied smile, “That’s it, baby. Just relax. Let me make you feel good.”

I kissed her neck again, lips moving in slow, deliberate patterns, tongue tracing the delicate skin behind her ear. My fingers were gentle but firm, teasing the sensitive flesh of her pussy through her panties. Y/N’s hips twitched, her body arching subtly into my touch. 

Her moans grew louder, more urgent, but her eyes remained closed, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks. My heart swelled with adoration. I loved this. I loved the way she surrendered to me, even in her sleep, loved the way her body responded to my touch like it was made for me.

With a gentle hand, I eased her pajama shorts down her legs, baring her body. Her skin was flawless and smooth, her curves soft and inviting. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight of her, desire mingling with a deep, aching tenderness. I leaned down, pressing soft kisses along her stomach, my lips lingering on the dip of her navel. My hands roamed freely now, tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the slope of her thighs. Every touch is a tribute, a silent declaration of my love and desire.

I kissed down her thighs, lips brushing against her skin with a feather-light touch, my tongue darting out to taste her. Y/N’s legs parted slightly, her body instinctively opening to me, even as she remained lost in sleep. My lips curved into a smile as I continued my slow, worshipful exploration, kisses trailing down to her ankles and back up again. I took my time, savoring every inch of her, with reverence and hunger. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmured, voice thick with emotion. “I could spend all day just kissing every part of you.”

Finally, I reached the apex of her thighs, my breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh. Y/N’s hips bucked slightly, her moans growing louder, more coherent. Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep, but her body was fully awake now, alive with anticipation. I looked up at her, eyes dark with desire, lips curved into a wicked grin. “Morning, beautiful,” I teased, voice low and husky. “Or should I say, good night?”

Without another word, I dipped my head, tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path along her folds. Y/N gasped, her hands tangling in my hair as her body arched off the bed. I hummed against her skin, the vibration sending shivers through her. I took my time, tongue exploring every inch of her, lips sucking gently, fingers teasing her clit. Y/N’s moans filled the room, her body moving in rhythm with my mouth, her hips grinding into the mattress. My own body was tight with need, my cock throbbing against the fabric of my boxers, but I wasn’t in a rush. I loved this- loved the way she tasted, loved the way she felt, loved the way she surrendered to me completely.

My tongue delved deeper, fingers joining in, my mouth devouring her with a hunger that bordered on worship. Y/N’s breath came in sharp gasps, her body tightening as she climbed higher and higher. “Jungkook ,” she panted, her voice thick with need. “Oh God, Jungkook , please- ”

“Cum for me, baby,” I murmured against her skin, voice a rough whisper. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

My words were the final push she needed. Y/N’s body shattered, her orgasm ripping through her with a ferocity that left her trembling. Her cries filled the room, her hips bucking against my mouth as she rode out the waves of pleasure. I groaned, my own release catching me off guard as I came in my boxers, body jerking against the mattress. I stayed with her, my tongue soothing, hands gentle, until her cries softened to whimpers and her body went limp.

When I finally lifted my head, my lips curved into a satisfied smile. I kissed her inner thigh, my touch tender, before trailing my lips back up her body. She watched me through her half-lidded eyes, her chest rising and falling with her ragged breaths. My heart swelled with love when I looked at her, her hair tousled, her lips swollen, her body glowing with satisfaction. I leaned over her, my lips brushing against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. “You’re incredible,” voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

My lips moved to her neck, hands roaming over her body as I kissed and nipped at her skin. I positioned myself between her legs, eyes locking with hers as I slowly entered her. Y/N gasped, her hands gripping my shoulders as I filled her, my thickness stretching her in a way that made her toes curl. I held her gaze, movements slow and deliberate, my hips rocking into hers with a rhythm that was both tender and relentless.

I held her hands above her head, lips trailing down to her breasts, my tongue swirling around her nipples, teeth tugging gently. Y/N moaned, her body arching into my touch, her hips meeting my thrusts eagerly. My words were a mix of praise and filthy promises, voice low. “You’re so fucking perfect,” I growled, my lips brushing against her ear. “I love the way you feel around me. So tight, so wet- ”

My thrusts grew harder, faster, driven by a need that was both primal and tender. Y/N’s cries grew louder, her body tightening around me as she climbed toward another peak. My lips found hers, our kisses deep and hungry, my tongue tangling with hers as our bodies moved in perfect sync. “Cum with me, baby,” I whispered, voice hoarse with need. “Let’s come together.”

My orgasm crashed over me like a wave, our bodies convulsing in unison as we cried out each other’s names. I collapsed onto her, my weight pressing her into the mattress, heart pounding against hers. I kissed her forehead, lips lingering as I whispered, “I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”

Y/N’s eyes drifted closed, her body heavy with satisfaction. She was already drifting back to sleep, her breathing evening out as exhaustion claimed her. I smiled, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin as I gently withdrew from her. I cleaned her up, my touch tender, before settling beside her, pulling her into my arms. I kissed her forehead one last time, my lips brushing against her skin in a silent vow. “Goodnight, beautiful,” I whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

And with that, I held her close, my heart full, my soul content, as the soft glow of the television illuminated their peaceful slumber

═══════

The rustle of wind through amber leaves whispered against the windows as Jungkook sat curled on the couch beside Y/N. A soft movie played on the TV, some indie romantic comedy she picked out, but honestly, Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to the plot. The real comfort was her warmth pressed into his side, the scent of her shampoo lingering in the air, and the quiet rhythm of her breathing as she rested her head on his chest.

It was Fall. Leaves tumbled down the street outside, and golden light flickered against the living room walls. Everything was soft, safe, good.

Until the doorbell rang.

They both flinched slightly.

Y/N looked up, eyebrows pinching together. “Who the hell is ringing the bell this late?”

Jungkook kissed the top of her head. “Probably some kid selling candy or something. I’ll check.”

She let out a sleepy hum and returned her gaze to the screen.

He got up and padded to the front door, rubbing the back of his neck as he opened it slowly. Cold air swept in.

No one was there.

Just an empty porch.

He glanced left, right but nothing but a quiet street. The houses across the way were dark. The trees rustled overhead. Weird.

He was about to close the door when something caught his eye. Down at his feet sat a medium-sized bouquet of red roses and a stuffed white bunny with a ribbon around its neck. A small card stuck out from the flowers.

His gut twisted as he picked it up.

The handwriting was loopy and overly neat. Feminine.

“You will be mine soon. ❤️”

“What the hell…” he muttered, his heart beating faster as Jungkook carried the bundle inside.

“Hey babe?” He called out, holding it awkwardly as he stepped back into the living room. “Uh… someone left this.”

Y/N sat up straighter, her expression falling when she saw what he was carrying.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Let me guess. No one was there?”

Jungkook nodded, holding up the note. “This was attached.”

She took it from his hand, reading it silently. Her jaw tightened. “She’s out of her damn mind.”

His shoulders tensed. “Who?”

“Jennie. Who else?”

Jungkook sat down next to her slowly. “You don’t know that.”

“Really?” she snapped, tossing the card onto the coffee table. “Who else keeps flirting with you at work and looking at me like she wants to scratch my face off?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, yeah, she’s... intense. But this could be anyone.”

Y/N folded her arms. “That’s the problem. You keep brushing it off like it’s nothing. But it’s creepy, Jungkook. This isn’t just some office crush anymore.”

“I’m not brushing it off, I just- ” he sighed, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions and blame someone without proof. And even if it is her, she’s harmless. She probably just has a crush.”

Y/N turned to face him fully. “Babe. A harmless crush doesn’t leave threats at your door like some unhinged stalker. That note isn’t sweet- it’s possessive. It’s obsessive. It’s scary.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

She wasn’t wrong.

“I just want you to stay away from her,” she added softly, eyes glistening slightly now. “Please.”

He reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. “Okay. I promise. I’ll distance myself. I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t being heard.”

She let out a long breath, and her shoulders eased just a little. “Thanks.”

But he knew, even as they sat there trying to turn their attention back to the movie, the feeling had shifted. The leaves might’ve still danced outside, but the wind felt colder now. Something, or someone, was intruding on our peace.

═══════

prev ♡ next

MASTERPOST ♡ MASTERLIST

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

[emberphoenixisgoingtolive]

ur headcanons of everything are absolutely amazing.. .. if u dont mind me asking do u have anything for the gyrosphere ships weddings,, 🤲

OHHH DO I HAVE HEADCANONS FOR YOU

so. first off, THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON, i had SOO much fun with this <333 i saw this request in my inbox and was so thrilled i happy stimmed then spent an hour on the swings at the park blasting my homosexual yearning playlist to give myself some fuel, researched some more, autismed over this for a further few hours, and i finally came up with all of this. so i hope this is what you had in mind!! i did not realise it was over 3000 words until it was, so. sorry if this is too long lol XD

DISCLAIMER: all cultural wedding traditions are from research, not firsthand experience of being part of those cultures; i sincerely apologise for any inaccuracies if there are any :)

NOTE: you are all welcome to fanfic/fanart these headcanons, just tag me and send me the post cos i would love to see your fanart/fanfics

finally, turns out that there’s a sort of template to wedding headcanons, so i made a template below the sets of headcanons so you all can make ur own headcanons for your own ocs :D

general:

when Dave and Roxie first planned the gyrosphere thing, Dave bet Roxie $100 that all three pairings would get married someday

Roxie agreed to it because she thought it would be the easiest $100 she would ever make (if only she knew...)

they get married in the order: Yasammy, dinostar, Benji

they bounce around the idea of having a triple wedding but then they decide they are all at separate stages of wanting to get married and don’t want to rush anything/make other people wait (at that point yasammy are very ready to marry, dinostar finally were ready to get back together six months ago, and benji are at the dating stage)

it’s an in joke that none of them can coordinate a straight(hehe)forward proposal because all three couples planned to propose to each other at approximately the same time

a week after Kenji and Ben get married, the nublar six have their own celebration at Sammy’s ranch, just them. officially, it’s a “congratulations; we’re all married!” party but realistically they need an Adult Excuse to have a sleepover

they spend the afternoon on a long walk around the ranch grounds, order takeout and eat it on the field overlooking the sunset

in the evening they have a bonfire with toasting marshmallows and s’mores and all reflect on their lives and stuff and thank each other for being each others’ best friends

they also make friendship vows to each other and promise to always talk through stuff that’s bothering them, always communicate, always support each other, always be honest, etc etc. possibly one of the most emotional things they have ever done as a group. everyone is in tears by the end

then they go inside and in true camp fam fashion, spend the night sleeping on the floor in sleeping bags, all in a big cuddle pile

Yasammy:

Yaz plans to propose on a really fancy dinner date they go on to a restaurant by the beach, but she keeps getting too nervous to do it, and when they drive home and Yaz gets out of the car, she is so nervous she trips and the ring box falls out of her pocket, and she figured, now’s as good a time to propose as any, so she proposes. Sammy says yes ofc and almost starts crying, and then drops to her knees, grabs a flower from the side of the road and offers it to Yaz because she wanted to propose to Yaz and they both laugh and hug and kiss

Yaz only wants one ring, which she wears only on her right hand up until the wedding day where she switches her ring wearing finger to her left (Lebanon, and countries such as as Syria, Turkey and Brazil also do this)

the ring itself is Yaz’s mother’s. mrs Fadoula gave it to Sammy when Sammy told her she wanted to propose and to ask for her blessing. it has a red garnet in it

Sammy’s engagement ring has an emerald in it (green is Sammy’s favourite colour)

they know they want to have an outdoor wedding in early summer, since Yaz loves beaches (i headcanon she grew up in Oregon near a coastline and spent a lot of time at the beach) and Sammy loves the countryside. they scout for weeks for the perfect location before they finally find a good place where the beach and countryside meet on the sand dunes

Yaz and Sammy both agree they don’t want a religious wedding (Sammy was raised Christian and Yaz’s mother is Muslim, but neither of them are particularly religious) so they get married by a judge 

they want their wedding to be very small and intimate. only people they know and love are invited, which basically means the nublar six, their accompanying families, Yaz’s mother, Sammy’s sisters, Dave, Roxie, Mae, Gia, Nonna, Zayna and the Mballos, and some of Yaz’s extended family

Brooklynn and Sammy’s sisters (whom she got back into contact with after chaos theory) are the bridesmaids; Ben, Kenji and Darius were the best men

Brooklynn, Ben, Kenji and Darius all wear suits — whatever colour they want, but they have an orange sprig of flowers pinned to their lapels

they both wear their hair loose with matching flower crowns made from flowers they picked the day before from Sammy’s ranch, and wove them in

it's a Lebanese tradition for the groom's family to arrive the morning of the wedding to pick up the bride — in Yaz and Sammy's case, Yaz only has her mother as close family and Sammy is only in touch with her sisters, so Yaz and her mother arrive on the day to pick up Sammy in the morning, and they have a really intimate drive to the wedding reception. when they get out of the car, Yaz’s mother says, “good luck, my daughters. i love you and i’ll see you in there,” and Sammy almost started crying

Yaz’s dress is white and pretty modest, long sleeved, and has a pretty long train, but her sleeves are thin so she wears a white suit jacket over the top. Sammy also wears a white dress, but with a very full skirt and short sleeves, buff arms are fully visible (when Yaz first sees Sammy in her dress she has to stop and take a moment to remember how to function because girls)

Kenji and Yaz’s mother walk Yaz up the aisle

Zayna is the flower girl, and mrs Fadoula walks the rings up to the front

it’s also a Lebanese tradition to have Daffe dancers who sometimes announce the bride as they come in, and Ben (as the Designated Dj) announces everyone as they come in doing the walk up the aisle

their wedding rings are the pretty standard diamonds, but inside they got the other’s name engraved (e.g. Yaz’s ring says ‘Sammy’ on the inside of the band and vice versa)

the vows are pretty personal, since Yaz and Sammy wrote them themselves. they don’t say “I love you” to each other much, but they often say “I would fight earth to be by your side.” they say that phrase to each other in their vows, but Sammy says it in Arabic and Yaz says it in Spanish (as a cute surprise for each other)

when Sammy explained the Mexican wedding tradition of el lazo (the lasso; usually a decorative silk cord that's draped around the couple) to mrs Fadoula, she did a ton of research, makes her own cord for the girls, and presents it to them on their special day. Sammy is in tears

their wedding bouquets are orange flowers (idk what type cos i know nothing about flowers lmao)

the guests throw sprigs of wild verbena on Yaz and Sammy as they walk back down the aisle (headcanon because @neunhofferart’s favourite Texan wildflowers are wild verbenas)

it's Mexican tradition to have a wedding parade from the ceremony to the reception, but in Yaz and Sammy's case, since they had such a small wedding, they rent a limo for all the wedding guests (it's a tough fit but they manage) and sing karaoke and have non–alcoholic (for Yaz’s family) drinks all the way to the reception

the reception venue is decorated with flowers and fairy lights, and the accents are orange, pink, green (Sammy’s favourite colours) and black (Yaz’s favourite colour). Kenji points out that “the room looks like a giant lesbian flag”

the reception meal has both Mexican and Lebanese food (mostly cooked by mrs Fadoula and Sammy’s sisters; Yaz and Sammy are both average at best at cooking) but Yaz and Sammy also invited their guests to bring their own dish (like a potluck basically)

they have a gorgeously decorated wedding cake, courtesy of Ben’s mother (i headcanon she’d be very good at cake decorating for some reason??) and the ribbons around the base of the cake are orange

Kenji made them a custom playlist and it’s actually extremely good and suits the vibe and them as a couple perfectly

the song they first danced to was to picture you (Sammy’s favourite song) by Chapelle Roan (Sammy’s favourite artist) (Yaz doesn’t have much of a musical preference in terms of the music she likes)

for the mother–daughter dance, ofc Yaz and her mother dance together but mrs Fadoula also dances with Sammy (Sammy definitely cries a little when mrs Fadoula first offered)

there’s a traditional Arab dance called the Dabke, which is done at special occasions. Yaz and Sammy agree they want to dance the Dabke at their wedding but mrs Fadoula teaches the others of the N6 how to dance the Dabke to surprise Yaz and Sammy. when they started dancing, Yaz almost started tearing up cos of how thoughtful it was and they all had a great time dancing together

they do a wedding book, but there’s only a few pages for guest messages since so few people were there; the rest of the space is for pictures from the day. the others of the Nublar Six cannot. stop. drawing in the damn thing. Ben writes, “CONGRATULATIONS MY FAVE LESBIANS I AM YOUR #1 SHIPPER” in very sloppy drunk handwriting, followed by Brooklynn writing, “congratulations from your actual #1 shipper... I’ve known you were gonna end up together since Nublar ;)” followed by at least a page more of the Nublar Six bickering over who shipped them first. Yaz and Sammy think it’s hilarious

Sammy is, of course, overjoyed throughout the day, except for a few minutes where she and Yaz take some time away from the celebrations for Sammy to cry because she’s out of contact with her parents and they weren’t there to see her get married

in the evening, Yaz and Sammy go back to the beach and have dinner just the two of them. they eat chiles rellenos (sammy's favourite), tofu kebabs (yaz's favourite) and orange slices as the evening meal

it’s just the two of them on a blanket with candles and more flowers

(not a picnic! as sammy says, a picnic is just lunch on a blanket) (but yaz is determined to make it the most beautiful lunch/dinner on a blanket they've ever had)

after they finish eating, they slow dance (mostly just gently swaying) on the beach to music playing through a small speaker and hold each other close. it’s easily one of the most intimate things they’ve ever done together

Their honeymoon is in the middle of summer, and it’s on a Greek island resort (they’re mamma mia fans guys... trust me it’s canon...) and have an amazing time

they have a really fancy spa day where they get a couple’s massage

they also find a completely secluded area of the beach and have sex at sunset

Yaz wakes up early every morning to make a cup of coffee (for her) and tea (for Sammy) and they spend an hour every day on the balcony of their hotel room sitting and talking while watching the sunrise

Dinostar

technically, they get married twice

the second time was legally when they did it, but the first time was a pseudo–ceremony the night Darius and Brooklynn proposed to each other

they were going for an evening drive in Darius’s truck with takeout pizza and blankets to snuggle under, and they stopped the truck at a nice spot nearish the highway by the forests with a gorgeous view of the stars. they were sitting in the truck bed, when Darius realised he wanted to propose Right This Second, and did. Brooklynn said yes, “if, Darius Bowman, you will marry me”

on the drive back, after a twenty minute discussion in the car they both agree that they want to be married This Precise Instant and call all their friends to tell them they’re getting married

Brooklynn, texting Yaz and Sammy: I PROPOSED TO DARIUS AND HE SAID YES!!!

Yaz: that’s amazing 🫶

Sammy: ASHJSJF WE’RE SO HAPPY FOR U TWO :D

*twenty minutes later*

Brooklynn: we’re getting married

Yaz: yeah that was implied by the proposal text dumbass

Brooklynn: no i mean we're getting married tonight. in an hour. come to our house

(let’s say the nublar six all live near enough each other at this point to drive there in a couple of hours)

Darius and Brooklynn stop again on their way back to pick up some flowers for their ceremony — yellow ones, of course

after that they spend ten minutes sitting on the truck bed in the car park and just. talk and reflect. thank each other for the amazing relationship they have. exchange a few personal vows for just them. make out.

the ceremony is done in their living room with the Nublar Six, mrs Bowman, Brand, and Brooklynn’s dads. they do their vows in view of the family photo with Fredrick (Darius’s dad) in full view. the only decor are yellow flowers and candles (“your light burns bright, Darius Bowman”)

they completely improve their vows. the words have been inside them for years

Darius starts his vows by saying, “Brooklynn... i love you" and Kenji blurts out (being sarcastic) “really? i had no idea” *Yaz hits him in the face with a pillow*

they and everyone else are crying by the end of their vows

they jump the broom. Darius was very set on doing that since, according to his mother, his family have been doing it with the same broom for generations. mrs Bowman and Fredrick jumped the broom at their wedding. mrs Bowman cried when they did it

they don’t do engagement rings since, from that night onward, they consider themselves married already

but they want to get legally married so they have legal couple rights and stuff (also any excuse to get the gang together and celebrate)

they have a winter wedding because they look so much like a winter couple i can’t explain why they just do

Darius’s family is Christian but Darius himself isn’t, and Brooklynn isn’t religious, so they get married in a courthouse

like Yaz and Sammy, it’s a small wedding with the rest of the Nublar Six, their accompanying families, mrs Bowman and Brand, Brooklynn’s dads, Dave, Roxie, Mae, Gia, Nonna, Zayna and the Mballos, and some of Darius’s extended family

Yaz and Sammy were the bridesmaids, and Ben, Kenji and Brand were the best men (they all wear yellow dresses/suits)

Darius opts for the standard black tux and Brooklynn wears a pretty simple white dress that she decorates with yellow flowers. Darius has a yellow tie.

mrs Bowman and Brand walk Darius up the aisle. mrs Bowman carries a picture of Fredrick while she walks, and puts his picture next to her seat in the front row so Fredrick can be with his son in spirit

they surprise the other with wedding rings: Darius gets Brooklynn a solid gold ring (stones are only stones, anyway. Brooklynn deserves something that can only be made in a supernova.) and where there would be a stone, the gold is melded into a star. Brooklynn wears hers on her right hand instead of her left. Brooklyn gets Darius a plain band with a chip of his raptor tooth embedded inside (with his permission)

i imagine Yaz and Sammy would have a toddler at this point maybe? so they’d ask her (with the help of one of her mothers) or one of Darius’s younger cousins to be the flower girl, and Kenji to be the ring bearer

they do the pretty standard vows since they did the personal ones the night of their engagement

their wedding bouquet is mostly white flowers but there’s stars meticulously glued onto the petals (and the ribbon is yellow ofc)

their reception/party is decorated with crystal–like winter decorations, the theme is winter wonderland

their reception meal is like. standard fancy food.

mrs Pincus also made their wedding cake. we absolutely stan this lady

Kenji made them a playlist like he did for Yaz and Sammy, and once again it’s brilliant. however it is a running gag that Kenji, Brand and Darius jumpscare each other with the song blue da ba dee da ba dai so right in the middle of the dancing, suddenly, “now listen up here’s a story about a little guy that lives in a blue world—” “—Kenji, SERIOUSLY? at my WEDDING?” meanwhile Kenji and Brand are pissing themselves laughing

Darius and Brooklynn’s first dance is to the song so close from the movie enchanted (underrated song of the decade. tear jerking and heartbreaking and magical and whimsical and amazing)

they also dance to several instrumental arrangements of disney songs and honestly they look like a fairytale couple

they hire a photographer and the photos are stunning

mrs Bowman dances with Brooklynn and Darius in the mother/daughter and mother/son dances, and both Brooklynn and Darius dance with both Brooklynn’s dads

they do a wedding book, and they include a page where they ask everyone to write one piece of marriage/relationship advice. they get increasingly more silly the more drunk people get. most of it is Kenji and Ben’s handwriting. Yaz gives advice from therapy. Sammy draws loads of hearts around their names on the front page

in the evening, they drive back to the same place they got engaged and have one final dance in the moonlight before going back home to sleep

they (me) had no idea where they should go for their honeymoon, so they (i) did some research and decided they’d go to one of the tropical Caribbean islands for a week

on their honeymoon they go skinny dipping at least once

right after that they also spend a few days going camping in the forest just them two

Benji

Kenji spends ages planning a really elaborate and thoughtful proposal (with the help of Yaz and Sammy ofc) only for Ben to spontaneously propose

Kenji is so shocked and thrown and excited that he blurts out “no!” then quickly corrects by saying “no, i mean that i was supposed to propose to you,” and then he brings out the ring with a turquoise gemstone (like Bumpy)

Kenji’s engagement ring is sapphire like Smoothie

when they told everyone else, the most excited was, to everyone’s surprise, Dave. when they asked why, he explained his and Roxie’s bet and how Roxie was so wrong, and the Nublar Six all realise their relationships started with the gyrospheres

they decide to get married in a forest. Ben’s family is Jewish but he’s never been religious, so they don’t get married religiously, and they both love the forest atmosphere, since the trees remind them a little bit of Nublar but not enough to be traumatic or triggering

their wedding is on a mild spring day

Ben’s family is Jewish but he isn’t religious himself, and Kenji was never religious, so they get married in a courthouse

same as the other two, they have a small guest list with the rest of the Nublar Six, their accompanying families, mrs Bowman and Brand, Ben’s mother, Dave, Roxie, Mae, Gia, Nonna, Zayna and the Mballos, and some of Ben’s extended family

Ben's mother insists on paying for most of the wedding

she is also very involved in planning it, and is helpful almost to a fault

Darius and Brand are the best men; Brooklynn, Sammy and Yaz are the bridesmaids

they all wear light purples and blues

a year or so after chaos theory, Kenji realises he has no pictures of his birth mother, so he described how she looked to Yaz who drew her. she redraws it for him and paints it properly, and gives it to him the morning of the wedding in a picture frame

Kenji isn't in touch with his Japanese heritage, so it felt a bit disingenuous to participate in Japanese wedding traditions. HOWEVER, he remembers seeing a photo of his mother and father at their wedding, and she's wearing purple (the only idea we have of what she looks like is five year old Kenji's drawing of her wearing something purple so i’m going with that’s her favourite colour) and Kenji wears a purple tie with his tux to honour his mother

Ben wears the standard black tux

Kenji and Ben both walk up the aisle arm in arm. Ben links his other arm with mrs Pincus and Kenji links his other arm with mrs Bowman

mrs Pincus gave Ben her old wedding ring to give to Kenji, and Kenji found his mother’s wedding ring in a box of old stuff from his father’s house and he held onto it for years

Bumpy is the ring bearer, Smoothie is the flower girl (Ben and Kenji taught him how to throw petals with his mouth. proud papas moment fr)

their vows are pretty standard, but Kenji writes a short poem (he’s a poetry guy trust me) and Ben is almost brought to tears

their wedding bouquets are also purple (for Kenji’s mother, and also it’s Kenji’s favourite colour) and blue (Ben’s favourite colour)

they spend some time in the forest just having drinks and stuff, but then they go to their official party venue

it’s decorated a bit like a jungle but also with blossom trees (traditionally Japanese)

they have buffet food at their reception meal (also by caterers because neither of them have a culinary bone in their body)

mrs Pincus still does the wedding cake (finally her sons are getting married) and she decorates it beautifully

however she does insist she frosts it at the venue. she was up at 5am making sure the cake was decorated and beautiful for her boys <3

Kenji spent weeks curating the Perfect Playlist for their wedding specifically (it’s only slightly different to their already existing Couple’s Playlist)

the first song they dance to as a couple is hallelujah by Leonard Cohen but Kenji rewrote the verses to fit their relationship (this is totally a teaser for an upcoming project btw)

Kenji gets a mother/son dance with mrs Bowman and both boys get a mother/son dance with mrs Pincus, and Kenji dances with Brook’s dads (they are technically his uncles in law i think??? idk. they’re his dads guys)

when mrs Bowman dances with Kenji, she whispers in his ear, “i love you, my darling son. i’m so proud of you.” and Kenji just melts

Jewish weddings have a celebratory dance called the hora where the couple are lifted in the air on chairs while they hold a napkin or handkerchief, and Ben really wanted to do it, so mrs Pincus helps the Nublar Six plan a Hora dance, and Darius, Brooklynn, Sammy and Yaz lift Ben and Kenji up in their chairs and it's SO cute. Kenji and Ben are each clinging onto one end of a handkerchief and cannot stop giggling. they’re so in love

at the wedding toasts, they do an open mic thing for an hour where everyone is invited to give a little toast. embarrassing stories are shared. jokes are made. Dave specifically congratulates the Nublar Six on all their marriages, and then reminds Roxie she owes him $100

all throughout the celebrations, Kenji and Ben are sneaking off into the gardens to kiss and cuddle and celebrate because holy shit we’re married now. they can hardly believe it /pos

the party is done by around 8pm and Ben and Kenji go back home and slow dance around their living room while listening to Queen and indie rock with fairy lights strung around the room. it’s just the two of them and they end up cuddling on the sofa, where they fall asleep

their honeymoon is in New Zealand, because Ben has distant family there and he went a couple of times as a child, and he loved it (author’s note: i went to New Zealand once as a child and it was truly magical, i loved it sm) and the scenery is so gorgeous

they go for three weeks (not including travelling time because to fly there is an additional day each end) in the first three weeks of december (december in New Zealand feels like summer in northern climates)

they spend two weeks and six days having amazing fun, relaxing beach days, relaxing in hot tubs, climbing a mountain, and having incredible adventures... and one of those days in the hospital because Kenji got stung by a jellyfish while swimming in the sea

template!

who proposes to whom?

engagement rings?

wedding location and time of year

are they religiously marrying or not?

who is invited?

bridesmaids and best men (if any)

what the bridesmaids and best men wear

what the couple wear/how they have their hair

who walks person A up the aisle?

wedding rings?

who is the ring bearer and flower person?

who says what in the wedding vows?

what are their flower bouquets like? (if they have them)

do they have their reception/party separate to the ceremony?

how are the venues decorated?

what do they eat in the reception meal?

what is their wedding cake like?

what type of music do they have?

what song do they first dance to as a married couple?

what other dances are there (e.g. parent/child variations, crowd dances, etc)

who speaks in the wedding toasts?

do the married couple have any intimate moments just the two of them throughout the day?

what do the married couple do in the evening?

where is their honeymoon? why do they go there?

[zilritsch]

Dreamzablade head canons?

(IVE SEEN YOUR ASS ON ETHEKS BLOG)

cPhil likes to call cTechno special, because in cPhil's eyes, he is.

cTechza has a pair of emerald jewelry pieces that cTechno made in a fit of his piglin instincts. He spent literally days mining for the purest emeralds, then painstakingly cutting them into perfect diamond shapes to match piglin customs about the meaning of shapes. He also went to the Nether to find gold and dig it up with his bare hands, so he could feel the satisfaction of finding it. Then he smelted a gold mold to make an earring, and since he saw that cPhilza didn't wear long earrings, he decided to start with studs. (He would later make a pendant for cDream.)

He made his jewelry from the leftover gold, enough for a frame and a small chain. And maybe he overdid it a bit with the gold, but then he saw the amount of emeralds and decided that he would soon go to the village to trade.

cTechno likes touching, but he is a little hesitant about it in prison, because cDream is wary of it like fire. It hurts cTechno to watch, he does not want to know how a person can be brought to such a state. He tries to give him as much good as he can, because cDream needs it, and cTechno can only give him this small mercy.

cDream likes sweets. cTechno promises him the most delicious muffins with sweet berries in prison. cDream cries.

cPhilza bakes him a pie with sweet berries when he is feeling better. Dream cries again.

cTechza likes to sit cDream on their laps, they like to keep him safe in their sight. They hug him and change cDream's position with ease, especially when he falls asleep in their laps. cPhilza covers him with her wings, leaving him in a cocoon. cTechno hugs him with her big arms, giving cDream complete peace.

Kissing with cTechno is difficult, he has a different anatomy, but they have their own analogy to kissing.

cTechza kiss each other like an old married couple, they kiss in the kitchen while they cook, in the bath while they wash cDream, in the forge while cDream sleeps or does other housework. Sometimes they are wild, fighting and dominating each other.

cDreamza kisses deeply, sensually, cPhil gently holds cDream's chin, completely leading in the kiss. cDream is a puddle in his hands.

cTechno kisses cDream softly and anywhere at any time to make him as embarrassed as possible, making him giggle and smile. cTechno is a gentle giant.

cPhilza likes to tease cTechno about his choice of boyfriends, because he brought a mini version of cPhil home. cTechza teases cDream about liking older men. cDream and cTechno tease cPhil about his memory.

cDreamzables like to do mini concerts, where cTechno uses the violin, cPhilza picks up the tambourine, and cDream either sings or plays the flute.

cDream is their little bard, who loves to hum something and experiment with different instruments.

cDream likes to sleep between cTechza, because it is so paradoxically nice there that despite the hateful heat and feeling of constraint, cDream feels completely safe and loved.

[literary-illuminati]

2025 Book Review #22 – The Brides of High Hill by Nghi Vo

This is my second Hugo nominee for the year, and far more agreeable to me than the first. It’s also the fifth in the Singing Hills Cycle and, though it’s left behind basically all of the ambition and a large part of the structural distinctiveness of the first couple installments, otherwise a real return to form. Just a thoroughly enjoyable campfire tale.

Cleric Chih, itinerant monk and collector of histories and folklore to be recorded and preserved within the archives of the Singing Hills monastery, is once again out walking the earth. Specifically, they find themselves in a rather troubled region on the western frontier, falling in with a beautiful young bride and her family as they journey to the palatial estate of Do Cao. There, they fall into the role of the bride’s confidant and emotional support as she endures the days of feasting and negotiation involved with her betrothal to the rich and powerful (and two or three times older than her) Lord Guo. As one days fades into the next, Chih becomes increasingly, horrifyingly aware of just how many monsters are lurking behind porcelain masks.

This is actually quite a departure from the rest of the series in mood and tone – Chih’s adventures in prior books have been rather sedately paced and contemplative, and the cleric themselves has usually been more of a narrator or fly on the wall than a key part of the action (if they’re not mostly just there to provide a framing narrative for a different story entirely). By contrast, Brides – while still fairly sedately paced for a novella, and very concerned with atmosphere and aesthetics – is an extremely plotty little book. Especially compared with Mammoths at the Gate (the previous installment in the series), where the story was basically scaffolding to capture a particular snapshot of the grieving process, in Brides the most striking thing is how things just never stop happening. If anything it’s a bit overstuffed.

I personally found it a refreshing change of pace. Or, well – the way I have described this series to a friend is that Empress of Salt and Fortune was a film with thematic depth and real artistic ambition, whereas the books since have felt more like episodes of a fun and well-done episodic television serial. Trying to compare the two categories rather feels like missing the point. Both Empress and especially When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain (the second in the series) also did interesting things with framing narratives and unreliable narrators that the series has increasingly abandoned since. But compared to Riverlands and Mammoths I just straightforwardly enjoyed this far more as a reading experience.

It’s not quite a horror story, really, but it’s definitely something adjacent. A sense of eerie dislocation and looming dread, dark secrets hidden behind luxurious facades and monsters leering from every rooftop, an insane son raving about his father’s dark secrets and a too-good-to-be-true young bride – it’s all a bit reminiscent of a few different gothic horror stories piled on top of each other. Or not even gothic, really – you get the sense that any other women marrying Lord Guo would play out as essentially a pseudo-Chinese Bluebeard’s Bride. The exceptionally blood and indiscriminate karmic justice for all involved at the end really just seals the deal. I enjoyed it all immensely.

The book also has just an immense amount of fun with Chih’s own unreliable narration. They spend most of the story (literally) enchanted by the young bride, and so terribly besotted with her. The book conveys this by writing their narration like they’re the protagonist of a romance who hasn’t quite realized they’ve fallen in love with someone yet, and is instead just very preoccupied with any moment of context between them and their physical appearance, and interprets everything they do in the most indulgent possible light. It really did sell the effect quite well.

As I say every time I read one of these, they’re a really nice little episodic series and, if they’re going to keep up such a variety of tones and subjects, one I’ll happily continue reading for as long as Vo keeps writing them. You can theoretically start with any of them (though I would strongly recommend against doing so with Mammoth at the Gates, given how much it relies on you caring about Cleric Chih already), but honestly reading them in publication order is probably the best? That said i this is the only one you can get, fully recommended for anyone who likes more folktale-like fantasy.

[wooahaes]

at the end of a day

pairing: non-idol!s.coups x gn!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship.

warnings: food mentions. alcohol mentions (reader mentioned to drink several cocktails). very very vague reference to these two having a sex life toward the end, but its all just fluff and casual intimacy between an engaged couple.

word count: 0.9k~

daisy's notes: man who has heart eyes fr i think

Seungcheol liked getting the chance to spoil you. Birthdays, anniversaries, or just because… He thrived on getting to see you smile. Tonight he was sitting across from you in a restaurant, the lights kept lower for a more intimate setting. While neither of you had to dress up to be here, there was something nice about putting in a little more effort to his appearance for things like this. Maybe if it wasn’t your birthday, the two of you would have ended up somewhere much more casual, just enjoying the evening together. Now he just savored the opportunity to watch you enjoy your dinner… and the sight of the engagement ring on your finger whenever it caught the light.

“You’re staring again,” you said, picking up your glass to take another sip of your cocktail. “You always do this when we go out, you know.”

Maybe he did. He’d only proposed a few weeks ago, so the giddiness truly hadn’t worn off entirely… plus there was something a little more exciting about being in public. He could look at you at home and be the same deeply-in-love-with-you Seungcheol that he always was: comfortable and so, so thankful to have you in his life. But the moment the two of you went anywhere together, he always seemed to have a comment about your engagement locked and ready to go the moment someone showed even the slightest interest. He’d already gushed a little to the waitress about your engagement when she took note of your ring. She ended up saying something about wishing both of you well and that the two of you truly seemed happy with each other.

Whether it was just a stereotypical “this isn’t my job” kind of comment or not… At least you knew it was true. 

“I can’t help it,” he admitted. “I like talking about you.” 

“I thought the honeymoon period was for after we were married,” you teased a little. You went to set your glass down, only to stop, staring at it for a moment. Then, with a tiny pout, you looked at him. “Cheollie…” 

Ah. Busting out the Cheollie usually meant a lot of things, actually… but he knew. He held out his hand. This wasn’t your first cocktail of the night, and you typically ended up passing the last one to him anyway when you felt you couldn’t drink anymore. “I’ll finish it for you,” he said. “I’ll ask for another glass of water next time I see our waitress.” 

With a slight giggle, you returned to your dinner. “Thank you, honey.” 

When the end of the night had finally rolled around, Seungcheol had guided you back out to his car with his hand resting at the base of your spine, mindful of the alcohol in your system. You’d been quiet on the ride home, just watching him with this soft look in your eyes that always seemed to find you when you weren’t sober. He was used to you getting much more giggly whenever you drank, but the same thing sometimes pulled back the curtains and showed him just how tired you could be at the end of a day. So he guided you home by the hand, thumb running across your knuckles before he let go of it to unlock your front door. 

Undressing you without the intention of it going anywhere became commonplace on nights where one of you drank while the other didn’t. As much as a drunk tryst sounded fun… the older the two of you grew, the more tired you felt after a night of drinking. You were already about to fall asleep now, the excitement of your birthday having worn off. Maybe another night, when both of you were feeling up to it. Your sleepiness had infected him anyway. He’d carefully helped you into your pajamas, planting a quick kiss against your lips before you left his side to go through your own nightly routine. He stripped, dropped your clothes and his into the laundry basket (tomorrow, he told himself: you’d pout at him if he tried to stay up longer, and he’d be unable to resist cuddling with you if you did that). Eventually, he edged his way in next to you at the bathroom sink, reaching for his toothbrush.

You finished your own little ritual before he did, pressing a sleepy kiss against his arm before making your way to bed. He’d be there soon enough, once he’d washed his face. And when he did, you’d already reached out for him, eager for him to hold you while you dozed off. 

“Hi, baby.” You giggled as he crawled into bed. The second he had settled, you were already moving into his arms, resting your cheek against his chest. “Thank you for dinner.”

He stretched one arm out to turn the final lamp off, plunging the two of you into darkness before he returned to holding you. “It’s your birthday, silly,” he said. “It’s what you wanted.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled, legs intertwining with his, “for finishing my cocktails for me when I can’t. And for not drinking so you could drive us home. And…” The warmth of his body, the alcohol in your system, the fact you were already tired… You weren’t asleep yet, but Seungcheol could count the seconds until you fully nodded off.

He just chuckled, tracing circles onto your back. “Happy birthday,” he said, and smiled again when you pressed a tiny kiss onto his chest in response. “Don’t be upset if we sleep in tomorrow, okay?”

“‘m lookin’ forward to it,” you had softly laughed. “Goodnight, my Cheollie.”

Seungcheol shut his eyes, squeezing your side one final time. “Goodnight, my love.” 

[namimikan]

Hmm, I see what you mean.

I do wonder if Odo/Quark would work as a couple too! Like you, I’m unsure. I do know I love Quark’s line that he knows Odo loves him, it’s written on his back. It’s very good!

Fair point. I do remember feeling disappointed when Kira/Odo fell out, and just talked everything out offstage and resolved things between them. It was such a cop out. That should have been the deal breaker, and it wasn’t treated as such, and I think I would have been interested in seeing a Kira&Odo who were never that close again, but I am also a sap for them who is glad that the issue got resolved, even if it was unsatisfactory.

On paper, that should work! I love opposites attracting, and someone like Jadzia should theoretically lighten him up, when he’s so serious! But instead, I just… I felt like they brought out the worst of each other, the majority of their romantic episodes were just… Not Good, Not Fun. Worf/K’ehlyr and Worf/Troi were much more enjoyable to me, tbh, because Worf seemed more amenable to trying non-Klingon things, or, well: I would have been curious to see married!Worf/K’ehlyr raising Alexander, and K’ehlyr being less traditional-enforced than Worf, tbh. I don’t really think I see Worf as being that dominant to K’ehlyr or Troi, tbh? (Alas, K’ehlyr is gone too soon to see how that could have really gone, and I might have enjoyed seeing them navigate that conflict of child rearing styles tbh.) Whereas I really felt like he wanted things to go his way with Jadzia, or he’d sulk, and the resolutions were always kinda underwhelming. (He did sulk with K’ehlyr, but I thought her snark suited Worf much better tbh.)

But admittedly, I struggle a lot with Worf in DS9. I don’t like Klingon episodes for most part, with occasional exceptions, including TNG ones. And it just gets so ramped up in DS9, I cannot stand it—I genuinely don’t care about their subplot. Worf feels like a different character to me in DS9, sure, he became badass, but. He wasn’t the same character from TNG, where he would genuinely shine in episodes that didn’t focus on him. Which does make me feel bad, but… unfortunately, the farcical comedy of TNG suited him more IMO. DS9, he was someone else, sharing the name and actor only.

We’re free to disagree, I do want to rewatch DS9 more positively, (there’s really good content in the show that I adore!) and keep your opinion in mind when they fall in love, but my impression for them the first time around was that they weren’t a good match for each other, and their conflicts weren’t interesting to watch, and they weren’t particularly interested in compromise or meeting halfway.

Hopefully this doesn’t come across as rude? I respect your opinion, it’s something I would like to revisit. I just wanted to explain how I saw them, from my recollections. I’m never sure if I overdo it though, so if I overstepped, I apologise.

M&F edition!

(Probably should have done this one before the captain’s edition but it was easier to think of the captains and their old friends over the non-captain friendships.)

(Didn’t include TOS, even tho I was v. tempted to include Sulu&Rand, but if I didn’t include TOS in the previous fave friendship polls, it didn’t feel fair to include them in this one. Maybe a future poll then? Enterprise and future shows not included because I haven’t seen them.)

My criteria for this one was just… men and women being friends with no attraction to each other at any point of the show. (In my defence for DS9, I have only watched it once, years ago, really liked Jadzia’s line that she couldn’t help but like Quark, and I… IDK. didn’t actually feel that Quark liked Dax romantically until Ezri appeared. ((Any flirting was just… idk. bartender talk. rather than sincerity.)) But when I rewatch it, I’ll be more on the lookout for platonic relationships, in the event I make a poll similar to this one, maybe?) Hard to pick but this is what I came up with in the end!

Anyway, I liked these interactions a lot! It might not have happened that frequently but I enjoyed it when these characters did have scenes together and talked to each other.

[phoenixkaptain]

Everytime I think about Obi-Wan and Anakin it’s like- I don’t ship them so much as I think they should be together at all times. I think tcw had a point, actually, and the two of them should just. Always be together. I think Anakin is Obi-Wan’s hope in an increasingly difficult life and I think Obi-Wan is Anakin’s tie to humanity when he most feels like a monster. They are intrinsically combined, from the very first movie where Obi-Wan dies at Vader’s hands with a peaceful expression.

It’s Obi-Wan begging Luke not to see Anakin in Vader while Vader searches Luke to see some sign of Obi-Wan. It’s Obi-Wan calling Anakin another pathetic lifeform to Obi-Wan being unable to process the idea of Anakin being anything but good. It’s Anakin awkwardly (adorably) shaking Obi-Wan’s hand to Anakin awkwardly (adorably) bringing up Obi-Wan during conversations with the woman he wants to seduce.

It’s Obi-Wan knowing how to fix Artoo and Obi-Wan teasing Anakin about Artoo. It’s Anakin’s first thought on losing his lightsaber being “Obi-Wan’s going to be mad at me again” and Anakin laughing when Obi-Wan tells him to drive better.

The prequel trilogy is so fascinating because my favourite parts are always Anakin and Obi-Wan. The parts I think about the most often are those parts with Anakin and Obi-Wan. The relationship between these two drives the entirety of the plot of the prequels, to the point that the literal birth mother of the main characters of the original trilogy is all but forgotten in the third movie.

It’s. Obi-Wan spending years watching over Luke because Luke reminds him of Anakin, never approaching because what if Luke really does turn out to be like Anakin…?

It’s Vader assuming that Obi-Wan taught Luke to fight, because who else could teach a Skywalker?

It’s Obi-Wan accepting all the blame for the people he knew best, the people who were basically his family, all dying.

It’s Vader keeping Obi-Wan’s lightsaber in a parallel to Obi-Wan keeping Anakin’s.

They are just. Mutually Obsessed. Obi-Wan held up Anakin and said “this is my whole personality now” and Anakin responded with “neato, same.” They bicker like an old married couple. Anakin can’t imagine even thinking about leaving Obi-Wan behind. Obi-Wan tells Anakin point-blank that he’s a good Jedi who deserves to be a Master.

I ship them because like. The universe? Does?? They are destined to be by each other, in life and in death. They support and sustain each other. There was probably eepy Force magic stuff that made Anakin into a Force ghost because Obi-Wan wanted him to be one.

How else can I explain it? They were made for each other. Like. Literally. They should never be separated. Look what happened when they did separate in universe. They are a nuclear bomb. They have to stay together or the galaxy gets the worst of it, and that’s just canon, somehow.

[clexa-surrogacy-au]

It is correct/safe to say that if in few months since Costia died, Lexa and Clarke have developed (apparently) some feelings and a strong atracttion for each other, its because they felt something before? Not that they realized that in that time….

I’ll mark this with a read more since it’s spoilery

I think it’s safe to say they found each other attractive 🤔 both physically and emotionally. They have a sort of competitiveness and intensity to them they don’t have in the same way with other people, an appreciation for how the other works. To say it plainly, they just get each other, seem to wear the same type of weight on their shoulders. Weren’t afraid to call each other out or disagree. They understood each other so there was always a kinship there.

I would say in a way it was less “oh I’m super attracted to her” and more “oh I could be attracted to her…” and a baseline acknowledgment of “she’s exactly my type, but nothing is ever happening 🤷🏽‍♀️” that resulted in them automatically keeping a bit of a distance with each other, something they didn’t feel the need to do with anyone else (and also, at least in the case of one of them, compartmentalizing and trying not to ever think about it). Not necessarily because they let themselves consciously worry that it could develop into something, but because they could both sense something deeper there than was wise to explore. They were friends. Lexa and Costia were happy together, and that was that. Clarke was happy for them. That was how it had always been and they couldn’t imagine that changing.

I think that happens a lot in real life. People don’t magically stop being attracted to other people when they’re in a relationship; it just doesn’t matter, because you choose who you are with and you choose whether or not you let something grow where it shouldn’t. Choosing anything other than loyalty to Costia was never an option for either of them. It likely could and would have been much different, had Clexa somehow spent as much time with each other alone as they are now, but they didn’t.

But when you’re suddenly thrust together on a journey through life—when you’re both grieving together, both scared together, both healing together—well, things can change.

There’s a little more to it than that but for the sake of spoilers, I’ll leave it there ☺️

[beanghostprincess]

Just want to throw a sad Sanuso thought out here: You mention how they break up constantly because of how Sanji acts around women and how it makes Usopp angry. (I have really crappy memory so you might not have made those post and that might not be the SOLE reason they broke up a lot but oh well)

What if: Usopp breaks up with him this time. But not because he's angry, but that he is no longer in love with Sanji after he keeps ending up in second place the moment a random women shows up. Sanji doesn't know it's actually over though until too much time past and Usopp realize that he had to break it to him that they are actually over.

Resulting in a heartbroken Sanji trying to win him back. Which fails as Usopp starts to feel uncomfortable and doesn't even want to hang out with him alone anymore because of it. Leaving Sanji to self reflect, to stop trying to recreate a spark that's lost and instead aim to rebuild his friendship with Usopp in the end.

Why would you do this to me?

I've been trying to think about how to fix this in a romantic way because I can't stand the thought of them ending up like this but I can't seem to make any of my ideas work. So. You know. Ouch.

This is quite literally why I always say Usopp is 'Cardigan' and Sanji is 'Betty' by Taylor Swift. Could write a whole fucking analysis on that and this idea but I'd break too many hearts.

Why would you do this to me? x2

[willaminareads]

too busy

PARING: exhusband!drew x reader

SUMMARY: you and drew had been divorced for a little under a year now. while drew had your two kids this weekend, zach unfortunately let it slip, that mommy had a new "friend". drew was anything but thrilled.

WORD COUNT: 667 words

WARNINGS: possesive drew, angst, fluff, cursing, kids.

WILLA SPEAKS: hey! this is my first fic, on this blog, and i'm so excited!! please note that english is not my first language, so if any mistakes occur, i'm so sorry! enjoy<3

you stand outside his door, waiting for him to open it. you were a little nervous. you didn't exactly have a reason to be, but you were.

"y/n," drew says as he opens the door. "hi, baby, come in. the kids are in their playroom." he ushers you inside, hoping you didn't notice he let the nickname slip. old habits die hard.

you smile softly at the nickname but quickly stop once you notice. this is your ex. hell, not even just your ex—your ex-husband.

you follow him inside his new house. you liked it, though it did remind you of the house the two of you once shared.

"can i get you anything?" drew breaks the silence.

"you have tea?" you ask softly.

"the kettle is already on, sweetheart," he responds in the same soft tone. god, he knows me so well, you thought.

he finds a cup for you and starts preparing the tea. silence falls between you. it wasn't awkward per se, but not exactly pleasant either.

drew is the first to break the silence, still keeping all his attention on your tea. "zach says you've got a new friend." his tone is sharp, not at all soft like the one you'd heard just a couple of minutes ago.

a quiet "oh," was all you could muster up. you didn't know what to say. i mean, what could you say?

he turns his attention to you, handing you the cup of tea. "yeah, that was my reaction as well," he says bitterly.

you sigh. "come on, drew, don't do this." guilt written all over your face.

he lets out a dry laugh. "i didn't do shit, y/n."

"i'm allowed to move on, drew," you say softly, catching his gaze.

"the fuck you are," he sneers, placing his hands on the countertop. "i can't, so you don't get to either." his statement hangs in the air as you stare at each other.

you scoff. "no, you don't get to do this, drew. you fucked up. you didn't have time for us," you say, knowing how to hit him where it hurts.

"don't say that." he looks down, unable to meet your eyes.

"why not, drew? it's true," you state. "you were too busy with your big dreams, and, i mean, it worked out for you," you say, waving your arms slightly. "you have everything a man could want," you taunt.

"you know that's not true," he glares at you.

you shrug. "you can't have your cake and eat it too."

he scoffs at your comment. "right, okay. you're getting on my nerves, y/n," he bites. "you know how much i wanted to make this work. you know how much i love you—"

you cut him off. "loved."

"no, fuck that, and fuck you for saying it," he raises his voice at you. he doesn't do that often. "i'm sorry..." he takes a deep breath. "you know that i still love you. i just want another chance, y/n. let me show you that we can make this work," he says softly, reaching for your hand.

you shake your head at him. "we can't put the kids through another divorce, drew," you say softly.

"we won't," he says. "come on, y/n. we can make this work."

you sigh. "drew..."

"please," he says, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek.

"there's no new guy." drew stares at you, a little confused, waiting for you to continue. "that friend zach says he saw me with?" drew nods along. "it was chase."

"chase? as in my co-star chase?" drew asks, utterly confused.

"yeah... he and maddie came by to help me build a dresser." you bite your lip, your nerves taking over your body.

"oh," he falls silent.

"drew?" you ask.

"so, no new guy?" he asks with a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

"no new guy." you confirm.

"so... do you wanna marry me again..?" he asks.

"drew!" you exclaim with laughter as you smack his arm.

[chlorinecake]

A SUCKER FOR THE TASTE ✦— 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader

▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au

▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…

▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all

▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1

YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.

Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.

“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”

“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”

Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…

… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.

Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…

Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.

Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—

“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.

“Did you just… growl at me!?”

“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.

Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.

“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.

“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.

“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…

Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.

“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”

“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”

You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—

“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.

“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.

The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—

“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.

You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.

“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”

“Really?”

“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.

That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”

“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—

“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”

Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now

“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”

“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.

And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…

The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.

But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.

The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.

“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.

You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—

“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.

And that’s when you felt it…

The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…

You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.

Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…

You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.

“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.

You knew what was happening right now..

Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…

FLASHBACK —

“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”

“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.

“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”

“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”

His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.

“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”

“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.

He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.

“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.

“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”

What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…

Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.

But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…

Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…

“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—

“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.

“So what?”

“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”

“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”

“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”

Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”

You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”

“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.

“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips. 

Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.

Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.

“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.

“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.

And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.

The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.

He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.

Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...

Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—

“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”

“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”

All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.

“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.

But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.

And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.

It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.

You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.

You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…

“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.

“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”

“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.

Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…

Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.

He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…

Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.

Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.

“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”

“Love it when you come all over my face.”

“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”

“So so beautiful, and just for me.”

“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”

“You taste so fucking divine...”

“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”

He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”

But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.

A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”

“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…

That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.

“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.

“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”

“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.

“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.

Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.

“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.

“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”

It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…

You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…

You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings

[darkbluekies]

Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer. 

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him. 

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again. 

But he did. Somehow, he did. 

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one. 

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you. 

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other. 

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase. 

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights. 

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back. 

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says. 

Me neither, you think. 

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe. 

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered. 

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine. 

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke. 

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes. 

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank. 

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”. 

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint. 

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble. 

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry. 

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away. 

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat. 

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?��� 

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping. 

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly. 

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter. 

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling. 

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away. 

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall. 

“Don’t ever say that again”, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him. 

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead. 

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold. 

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.” He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty. 

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.” 

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused? 

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in. 

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks. 

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish. 

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him. 

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you. 

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you. 

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder. 

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning. 

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now. 

“I’m not hungry”, you say. 

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing. 

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears. 

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks. 

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers. 

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled. 

His words send icy shivers down your back. 

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky. 

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls. 

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure. 

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside. 

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court. 

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole. 

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body. 

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole. 

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command. 

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries. 

[tbaluver]

Husband/ Father Headcanons- The Love And DeepSpace Men

order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi lovelies! i apologize that my reqs are coming supa late but i should finish and post them so soon after my school semester ends! i literally have so many in my drafts (╥﹏╥) i usually overthink my reqs which is why i take super long but here's some husband material to feed you all for now i hope ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ talk to you all so soon mwah (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He loves doing simple things with you like going to the supermarket. He’s read somewhere on the internet that that's what married couples are supposed to do on earth.

Morning routines with Xavier are always so warm and sweet. As you both get ready for the day, he’ll take your hand, carefully adjusting your wedding ring before giving it a soft kiss.

Whenever your newborn baby starts crying just as you’re both about to eat, he always prioritizes you. He’ll reassure you that you can go ahead and eat without him and enjoy your meal, promising you that he’ll take care of the baby.

You and Xavier share a special inside joke just between the two of you about the cute sounds your baby makes. Whether it’s the random babbling or their adorable squeals, always brings a smile and laugh to the both of you.

Xavier loves hearing and seeing your child laugh and will do absolutely anything to make them smile whether it’s through tickling, playing peekaboo, pulling silly faces, or using a high pitched voice

Lots of snuggles with you and your baby. You’d have your little one nestled safely right in the middle of the two of you as you all fall into deep slumber. He especially loves having his child rest on his chest while you snuggle up beside him.

Zayne:

Whenever your baby girl starts walking or crawling, he’ll consistently clean the floors of the house multiple times to keep the floor clean for his baby girl and to also have a clean house in general.

Your daughter has her own little kitchen playset because she loves watching either of you cook. Sometimes, while Zayne’s busy with his patients reports, she’ll run up to him with a plate of her plastic food to share her ‘cooking’ with him. He loves to play along to see her adorable smile, pretending to savor it and tell her how delicious it is.

Whenever it’s a quiet time between the two of you, enjoying each other’s company and doing your own thing, Zayne often reaches over to gently rub his thumb against your wedding ring, often reminiscing about the day you two got married and a small smile curling on his lips.

Anytime you ask him to grab something for you while he’s out, he always goes the extra mile and adds a little something extra for you- and for him as well especially if it’s something sweet. If you ask for the next series of your favorite book you love, he’ll just get the entire collection so you can binge-read it right away. He’ll even pick up a copy of the book you’re currently reading so he can talk about it with you.

Rafayel:

Everyday being married to you feels like a blessing from the gods. He wakes up in the morning to see your beautiful sleeping figure right beside him, wearing the wedding ring on your finger that ties you both together forever. Rafayel always greets you with something cheesy when you wake up like, “Hello my beautiful wife.” with a big smile on his face.

Rafayel flirts with you as if you haven’t been married for a couple years now and often says “I love you” with any chance he gets. “Heyy my lovely gorgeous wife, before you come home, do ya think you can pick me up some extra brushes? I think our little glub glubs hid them again...oh and by the way I love you!”

He always wears his ring. He can’t help but fidget with the ring whenever he starts to miss you, smiling as thinks about the day you both exchanged your vows.

After a long day at work, you can always find your lemurian children running up to greet you with your husband. Sometimes they like to show off their artwork they’ve all made together and most of the time it’s all just for you.

However he can always tell when you’re exhausted and drained, so he’ll gently excuse the kids, assuring them you’ll spend time with them later. For now he’s happy to entertain the children so you can get your rest. He’ll make up a random activity to keep the children busy so he can do small things for you like running a bath or preparing some meals for you

Sylus:

Anytime Sylus and his baby girl are shopping, he’ll always ask her what she wants or what she prefers. He treats her like a princess just like her mommy.

“hmm....pink! no, red!...pink!”

“how about....we get both dear?”

and there’s something so adorable seeing her so happy that makes him feel so warm and fuzzy inside.

Sylus does not mind in any timeline or universe if you’re comfortable being provided for. He can afford it and nothing can hurt his card even if you tried.

As years go by, he’ll make sure your wedding ring isn’t getting worn out or has any chips in it. Not that it would ever get worn off from its high quality. If it does have any problems, he’s quick to get it fixed, making sure that your ring will always shine with you.

Before you both unwind for the night, he’ll gently kiss the back of your hand where your wedding ring rests, before slowly slipping it off for the night.

Anytime you’re home from a long day of work, he’s already outside waiting for you to take out things in your car so you don’t have to carry anything.

After a long shift, you can always come home to find a warm dinner waiting for you with your favorite drink. The house would be clean and your baby girl is already tucked in. He’ll sit by you at the dining table, a glass in his hand, sharing stories about his day or simply listening as you tell him about yours.

Caleb:

Caleb absolutely treasures being a father. He became the father that he wished he had, present and involved in every moment. Whether it’s cheering from the sidelines at their games or helping with their homework ( without yelling and making them cry at the kitchen table ), or just listening when they need to talk, he’s always there for his kids. He’s just as devoted to you, always making sure you feel as supported and loved.

Caleb is the type of husband that would wake up early or stay up late to make sure your lunch is ready for work the next day. He knows exactly how you like your meals, carefully preparing each dish and packing it with everything you need. He does the same for his kids, packing their lunch boxes the night before with their favorite snacks and an apple.

Playtime is a must with his kids. He believes in letting his kids experience the joy of childhood to its fullest. The living room is always filled with the sound of his laughter as he lifts them high into the air, making airplane noises or chasing them around the house from their made-up games. He would also make sure to keep track of their growth, marking their heights on the wall.

Once all the kids are tucked in bed and actually asleep, he’ll swoop you in with a kiss. His kisses were always so hungry and sweet and he seriously cannot get enough of you, always wanting more.

“We have food at home” type of father but your kids never mind because he always cooks them whatever they’re craving. His home cooked meals always HIT. The house would be filled with delicious smells that make everyone feel right at home. His love is always served in each and every dish that makes his cooking way more special than going out to eat.

Your home is filled with many memories of your marriage but Caleb has a special place for his favorites. He keeps them up in your shared bedroom so when he wakes up beside you with the cool metal ring around his finger is a reminder that brings him back into reality that he’s married to the love of his life and there is always an escape from his nightmares.