#my jaw does not open up and down smoothly btw

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

One of these days I think my jaw is gonna require medical intervention

[aajjks]

Apology (KNJ)

pairings: yan!gangleader!nj x fem!gf reader.

warnings. HE IS TO**C, reader flinches because of him, bip*l*r behaviour, jealousy issues, extreme POSESSIVENESS, YANDERE, etc.

note. another one for the Drabble requests! They are still open btw, plz share feedback okay bye, ENJOY!

keep it in mind that this is totally fictional and does not represent knj or bts irl, don’t romanticise this behaviour!

You were fuming with anger as the car came to a stop, the sound of the engine shutting down as your boyfriend took the key out did nothing to distract you from what you were feeling.

You were burning up with embarrassment and anger.

You felt Namjoon glance at you for a brief moment as the man sighed deeply, the sound of it was the only source of sound between you two.

There was a thick tension in the car, you tapped on your fingers, your jaw was slightly clenched as your gaze travelled everywhere but Namjoon.

Until you heard his deep husky voice. “What’s wrong Y/N…?” the man was careful with his words, especially the tone he spoke in.

It was cautious and calculated.

You did not respond, his hand travelled up to yours as he squeezed it, tightly but gently, the contact caught you off guard.

“Namjoon don’t touch me,” the words came out of your mouth so smoothly as you didn’t even try to conceal the anger in your voice. You felt his burning gaze shift to your face.

His grip only tightened.

“Baby why? What’s wrong..” at that, you turn to look at him, disbelief painting your face at his feign clueless.

“…Whats wrong?” You honestly can’t believe that he has the audacity to ask you that like he doesn’t know himself.

“Namjoon you are asking me what’s wrong?!”

You keep your gaze focused on the man as he only sighs, turning on the power of the car, and turns on the AC.

You were going to be here for a long time.

“Y/N… I can’t believe you’re still stuck on that argument.” The fast wind of the ac hit your face as you open your mouth in disbelief.

“W-What?”

“It’s meaningless sweetheart so let’s just stop arguing and let’s get home…” Namjoon smiled at you.

He was talking to you in such a tone that you were a child.

“..what the fuck Namjoon…. You don’t care… You don’t care that you literally humiliated me infront of those people…” you gasp, anger taking over you.

Okay, now you were really beginning to get in his nerves.

“I’m sorry, please forgive me if you felt like that, baby but you know I don’t regret that.” He take his hand off of yours as he crossed his arms to his chest.

His raven hair shining as he looks to the side. You could see him biting the inside of his cheek as the slight change in his sweet tone confuses you.

“You have absolutely no right to sound angry Namjoon. Just admit your fault!” You argue, Namjoon was dismissing you like you were one of his lap dogs.

But you were not! “Just admit it. You can’t control your jealousy! I can’t believe you’d do that…” you cry.

“BE FUCKING THANKFUL THAT I DIDN’T SHOOT HIM STRAIGHT IN THE BRAINS!” you flinch at his sudden outburst, his voice boomed around the car and tears gather in your eyes.

You almost flinch again when the now anger man grabs you closer to him. “Did you not see the way he was literally fucking you with his eyes?!” His pearly whites clench with jealousy as he forced you to look at him.

“REALLY?!? MY FUCKING GIRL?!!” He growls.

“You should be thankful that I didn’t fuckin gut him alive right there! Now stop arguing with me and let’s go!”

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Lavender Steve at a photoshoot (maybe for his future daddy? Pre-subby bby Steve, just model Steve for now). He’s got on a nice soft lavender set that goes perfectly with his soft pink blush. And they’re having him eat fruit. Strawberries. Kiwi. Pineapple. Mango. Dragonfruit. Anything juicy and sweet that drips down his fingers and face and makes a certain daddy in the background drop his jaw 🍓🥝🍍🥭

Okay okay okay as much as I love love love love the idea lavender Steve being a model before he meets his Daddy I just-

I have to cling to the origin of lavender Steve because he lives so viciously rent free in my mind...

(btw if anyone wants to read the backlog then you can find it here -> 1 2 3 4 5 )

And in origin, this Steve was Captian America. However, at the time of his hedonism (affectionate) with pretty purple things he's somewhere after CA:TWS but before Infinity War and nomad Steve. He's clean shaven, sun-bleached blonde, and soft and subby and pretty. Completely ready for change after the portion of life he's just been dragged, kicking and screaming, through.

Lavender Steve retired after Bucky re-surfaced. In my head, I assumed that part of the appeal for them in this dynamic was that Bucky got to take control again, healing from HYDRA that way, whereas Steve got to finally give over control after spending years as team leader being Captain America. Hyper masculine, admitting no weaknesses, emotional or physical.

Anyway though-

I have to run with this idea though. The mental image of Steve doing a teasing, sensual photoshoot with lingerie and fruit? Too. Good. I'm in love and have heart palpitations.

Jesus.

Lemme just bend this a little.

Steve doing this for Bucky, getting professional photographs done (the photos from a photographer they can both trust, a woman who owes Nat a favor... the why of the owed favor is shaky and shady but so's a lot of things Nat does. Unfortunately and fortunately. Natasha's only request is that she be allowed to see some of the photos... she says she can't believe Steve dresses himself up so easily judging by how much he blushes at the most mundane compliments. She saw one of his outfits drying, hanged gently up in their bathroom once.) just so Bucky can blow the photos up and literally hang them over the hearth in their house. Proud at the artwork that is Steve. His submissive. His.

Also-

Think how fucking sexy those photos would be in general. Even if it weren't a wish granted for Bucky. Like, Bucky, opens the zip-file their very trustworthy and low-key photograoher sends them and...

(Chaotic formatting ahead, beware:)

At first, they're just photos of Steve in another glorious set of lavender lingerie, several different sets because Steve has so many he can just bring with him from home but he also bought more just for this, with a simple background- a white drop back with smoothly painted white boxes/crates to allow for more shapes and poses than if he was only standing or sitting on the floor unassisted.

(Obligatory example lingerie sets: 1 2 3 4 5)

But then the boxes and such are swapped out...

Posing with just the white background, lying in the void of white- the only color his blush and that pretty lingerie.

And maybe in the next burst of photos he's resting on a baby pink and incredibly fluffy rug. Lying back luxuriously, arching his back with his arms over his head to stick his tits out and show off that teeny tiny waist. His dick tucked back so there's nothing actually being revealed. Just a tease. Shot from the side then from overhead, the photographer straddling him to take the shot and making him blush gorgeously. Then he's on his side on the carpet, the difference between his shoulders and lil waist on full display. After, he's on his tummy with his back arched again and his head resting on his forearms looking to the side where the camera is. Sitting on a stool on the carpet too. Legs spread to either side and his hands resting on the seat of the stool, hiding what his little panties aren't. He poses leaning over the stool too, bent at the waist, with his forearms braced on the stool, looking to the side at the camera for a few shots. Also, there's more shots from behind with his ass shown off in full glory as he looks shyly over his shoulder to the lense.

They rotate through several sets of lingerie that way. Getting creative, getting Steve more comfortable for later...

Not that much later though, he's got other props around him. A white satin robe to tease that breathy purple lingerie against a black background instead of white. The contrast calling all attention to him. The photographer brought a sweet stuffed animal to hide the naughtiness of one of his littlest pairs, holding it in front of him, demure as he stares up through heavy lashes. They brought some flowers too maybe... just for some more creativity.

They change back to the white background eventually.

They also get Steve sitting on a bed (the mattress has a cover over it) with white satin/silk sheets. (You know the vibe...)

And with those two things in place (and another of Steve's outfit of course) then comes the fruit.

Bucky's favorites are the last ones with the fruit. It gets wild...

But his favorites of the last ones are any of the ones where Steve is tearing into the fruit with his mouth. That luscious mouth. Lips and teeth getting sticky and shiny and stained. Fruit juice dripping down his hands and chin as he sinks his teeth in...

Bucky isn't sure he's ever seen anything more erotic than Steve's eyes shut in pleasure at tasting the sweet flesh of the fruit after his fast and purposeful dehydration to look his Best for the photos. Enjoying himself in such a beautiful, teasing way.

Looking at the photos makes Bucky lick his own lips as if he might be able to taste some of the juice dripping from Steve's just by staring so hard at the final photos.

Steve just has a 🍑 at one point. He's just taking a bite of a peach and the photo has been taken mid-bite. Then chewing- there's a photo of that too, his jaw clenched and eyes locked with the camera. All of him bared for it. Exposed and put perfectly in the spotlight where he belongs. The camera loves him. He looks unbearably salacious and ripe.

But as more photos are taken, they swapped the fruit. There's more than just peaches.

There's 🍇 that Steve dangles over his own face, plucking them from the vine with his teeth. Elegant and yet dangerous.

There's an up close shot of his mouth full of raspberries, blueberries and blackberries, arranged to look like they're overflowing from his mouth. He's on his back for that shot, his blonde hair swept softly out. Eyes heavily lidded. Ment to allude to the fucked-out look he gets when Daddy paints his cumshot over his parted lips, half on his face, half down his throat. It's more sexual than it has any goddamn right to be. It's just fucking fruit.

Next, there's some of Steve holding 🍓🍓 tight in his fist and dripping the juice down over his open mouth, over his chin and chest, dripping down. And another group of shots of Steve wiping his face with the back of his other hand, peaking up at the camera through his thick lashes, sheepish and indescribably pretty.

Goddamn.

At one point there's also a shot of Steve's ass, his legs folded under him, ankles against the backs of his thighs, but his knees are still spread. He has one hand down to the ground, steadying him, on his fingertips between his legs but he peers back over his shoulder, there's a bite taken out of the 🍑 he's holding just in front of his face. Leaning towards it like he might kiss it- looking fuck drunk. There's also a perfect bite mark from Bucky on his ass... bruised from the last time they had sex. The imprint of his teeth on his ass mirrors the peach.

(Also... they have a joke shot of Steve with a 🍌 too, deep throating it, then using the banana to bulge his cheek. It feels like... low hanging fruit to use such an obvious, phallus fruit. Besides. Steve can hardly keep a straight face while doing it. The same with another joke shot of two 🥝🥝 between his legs like fuzzy balls. Those few frames are not super sexy but actually sweet. The stupid GRIN on his face makes him glow. Full of boyish charm, never growing too old for dick jokes.)

Later, in a new set of panties, no bra this time, Steve arches his back with a 🍍 resting up against his erection, between his legs. There's pineapple rings in a line up his abs, dripping with juice and rolling in a few rivers down his skin. Daddy wants to lick him clean.

Steve with 🍒 happens too. One of the cherries between his teeth and the other still held delicately between his fingers. Eyes heavily staring down the camera. Suggestive as all hell.

Shots of only Steve's hands exist too, ripping into softer fruit, a grapefruit or 🍊 suggestive in placement, as if he's fingering the fruit. Daddy doesn't bottom often, almost not at all, but seeing that... it makes him want to. He wants to direct Steve on just how to tear into him.

The last, last shot it the most unbelievable. It's a reused pose from earlier in the shoot but...

Oh god.

Just thinking about it gets Bucky hot. Even after he's stared at it for too long. Even after he's thought about it while jerking off- Steve gone for the weekend. Maybe it gets him so hot because its taboo. Maybe because it's different. Maybe because it's, it's complete fantasy but-

The last shot is of Steve, without ANY panties and no bra, just miles of pale, flushed skin, with his legs spread as wide as he can get them. Hiding his dick, so it's not just straight porn and retains some air of class, is a cantaloupe that's been sliced in half. The fruit is resting between his legs and his fingers are resting on/in the fruit like he's pleasuring himself... like he's pleasuring himself if he had a pussy. His unoccupied hand is then playing with his own tits- alluding even more to the feminization. It gives Daddy a really confusing but unavoidable surge of arousal. (Lightly inspired by this photo now that I think about it.) His little toy turned his pretty girl with a pretty cunt and touching it himself-? Touching it himself so unashamedly? Fuck. Consider Daddy done for.

[clareisa]

Kisses/Making Out With ONEUS

Requested (anon request): Yaaaaaay requests are open 😄 I'm glad to see you're getting requests for ONEUS cause I just started stanning them and there aren't enough writings for them 😥 Anyway could I get a making out with ONEUS headcanon? This is ☀️ anon from Ty's blog btw ❤️

A/N: Hello! Omg, someone from Ty?! I’m so happy since she is a queen. And yes, Oneus should get more love! 

Genre: fluff, suggestive

- gifs are not mine, credits to the rightful owners

- English is not my first language, so please, excuse my mistakes

Ravn:

passionate and loving

he is obsessed with your lips and you, of course, are obsessed with his as well

he acts so passionately that you always feel the same excitement as with your first kiss with him

loves to tease you by looking deep into your eyes and just kissing the corners of your lips and them smirking, making you even needier

his pecks are full of love and not just cute innocent ones

when your lips would meet when standing up his hands are always travelling down and ends up close above or directly on your bum

when you would need to take a break between kisses to breath his lips will quickly go down your jaw or even your neck

loves when you slip your hands into his soft hair and pull on the roots

not shy kiss you in front of his members, sometimes being too intense to make you flustered and they cringe

big show-off, so proud of you being his

in public he is calmer but still would have hand in yours or around you, not shy pecking your lips 

in private his hands are all over you, devouring every part of your body

favourite way to make out with you is definitely when he has you under him or against the wall so you are all to his mercy

needy groans in private are the total opposite of when he kisses the back of your hand, calling you his queen, in front of other people

Seoho:

dreamy and romantic

his kisses are fresh and sweet, every time waking you up and giving you life

touch of his lips on yours it’s like angel wings, refreshing like a summer breeze

Seoho is a romantic guy, so he always says something cute to you, complimenting you, before the kiss of after it making you blush

his pecks are light, quick and cute, making you both smile

kissing while standing up is a guarantee you’ll feel one of his hands firmly on your hip and the other gently holding your cheek, slowly caressing it in a soft manner

he is a fan of surprise kiss on the cheek while suddenly hugging you from behind, if you’ll that to him he will be melting in your touch

loves when you holding on or squeezing his biceps while you are kissing, he feels like you need him and trusts him in protecting you

not kissing you in front of his members much, maybe little peck

you kissing is intimate for him and he wants to keep it between you two

in public he is a shy bean but would never let go of your hand, back hugs are frequent, showing the world you are his

in private he is still delicate but passionate, giving you his all

favourite to make out with you is when you sit on his lap so he can hold you and caress you

when he is super happy and excited he often lifts you up to his embrace and kisses all over your face

Leedo:

versatile and astonishing

you never know what to expect from Gunhak, he loves to kiss in the most surprising ways or situations

whether it is just a random kiss while you are talking about your day or passionate kiss in the middle of your argument

from cute to sexy real quick and the other way

his pecks are usually cute and innocent, him grinning like a puppy so proud of what he just did

standing up while sharing kisses, his hand automatically go around your waist or gently rubbing your upper thighs 

tbh? loves to tease you or tickle you, he just finds it so cute when you laugh or scold him between kisses

he is soft when you sneak your hands around his waist to pull him closer to put them on his chest indicating for him to take care of you from that moment on...

he doesn’t mind giving you kisses in front of his members, it is nothing, in particular, he just doesn't care

he is a sucker for you kissing his jaw or corner of his lips, it makes him go and you will be up for a long night

in public he is a casual boyfriend, giving pecks on your lips, nose, cheeks... basically, anywhere he feels like to 

in private this man change to a love-craving beast, wanting to own every part of your soul and body

favourite way to make out for this man is him slowly backing up you to the wall or any other surface and then smoothly lifting you to his arms

just imagine that deep voice praising you between kisses... you're welcome

Keonhee:

teasing and needy

unlike his innocent stage presence, this man is a master in teasing you and making you flustered with his kisses

he would beg you for a kiss in a cute baby voice and when you’ll say yes he will just take your breath away with his fiery kiss

after leaving you breathless he just smiles innocently and walks away like nothing happened

but his pecks are the cutest! doing that mwah! sound making sure everyone around see

standing up he will just firmly have his long arms around your waist

sometimes get lost in the moment and starts doing little steps around like if you were dancing

aww please, hold his face in your hands while kissing him, he will give you everything

in front of his members, he is actually a show-off, bothering them on purpose with how cute he is with you

he is really confident until you would walk up to him and take the lead, it will make him stunned and shy

in public, he maintains that innocent boyfriend image that everyone is melting over but you know what is really going on 

in private he loves, loves, loves to tease you with his words and actions... yes you get frustrated but you love him too much

his favourite way to make out with you is probably you on top of him where he has excess to every part of you

he loves to play innocent but his mind is deep down corrupted... well, I don’t think you would mind ;)

Hwanwoong:

sweet and little spicey

him kissing you is one of his favourite things in this world 

he will let you know every time, after every kiss how he feel and how you make him feel

he is a really impulsive kisser, when he needs to kiss you and show you his love there isn’t a wrong place or timing, he does as he feels

his pecks are long-lasting and sweet as sugar

standing up he likes to have you as close as possible with no space left, his hands usually in your hair or holding your hands

when there is no one watching he would just from all of a sudden take your face and literally shove his tongue past your lips

one of his favourite moments with you is when you are in his arms, back against his chest and he can place little kissing on your shoulders making you shiver and blush

in front of his members and friends, he is calmer, yes he would give you a kiss but wouldn’t make a big matter of it or show-off

please let him apply your lip balm for you, he will be the happiest man under the sun

in public he is classy and charming, he would kiss you but never too dramatically, linked arms is a must

making out with this man is always hot but with minimal touches, he would hold you but the most magic will do his lips and tongue

initiate a kiss or two and things will get hot soon

Xion:

gentle but breathtaking 

he has a natural talent and he gives out everything even to the most simple kiss he could give you

so soft in all aspects around kissing you, holding, caressing or anything else is just perfect

he was really shy at first but as he was falling in love more and more his kisses became better every time he kissed you

pecks are maybe sometimes dramatic you learned how to love that side of him

kissing you while standing up he holds your face and caresses your sides softly

when you have a cute intimate moment he loves to kiss your palms softly while looking into your eyes 

when it comes to kissing you it is never rushed or quick, it always full of his feelings and he wants to enjoy 

in front of his members, he is not wild but he will give you a peck when he wants to and doesn’t care if they would tease him

loves your lips so much so you will for sure caught him staring at them from time to time

in public he is a gentleman, kissing the back of your hand 

in private he is romantic and not too crazy, making sure you are okay with every move he does

when it will get into a heavy make-out session he will get really noisy quickly

tell him you love him and he will be yours immediately 

[littleoddwriter]

Hello over there! Hope you're alright! Can I request another Zsaszmask story with their son Andrew? This time, Andrew kills someone in self-defence and he does not know what to do. Luckily for him, his parents are here for helping him. I am sure you will write something wonderful. Thanks in advance and have a nice day! (BTW, if you want to request me something, don't hesitate!)

Alive and Safe | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask

Hi there! As alright as can be, hope you are as well, thanks! <3 Now, this was a super interesting request, thank you so much for it! I really hope you enjoy what I've done with it. :) Have a wonderful day/night! (And thank you!) <3

summary; See above.

notes; Gun Violence; Blood; (Background) Murder; Self-Defence; Crying; Shock; Anxiety/Panic; Hurt/Comfort; Showering; Taking Care of Someone; Parental Feelings, Worries, etc.; Domestic. [Also, Andrew is 19 here. It'll be mentioned in the Fic, too, but I'm saying it here for imagination purposes.]

There was so much blood on him. Some of it was his, but most of it was from the guy, who was now lying lifeless on the floor. Andrew had shot him. He didn’t mean to kill him! He just wanted to incapacitate him so that he could get away and call the police. That was all he had wanted to do. But now he stood in the dark alleyway, above this corpse and he didn’t know what to do.

Should he still call the police? Would they arrest him, then? Would he end up going to prison for trying to save his own life?

With trembling hands, he pulled out his mobile phone from his pants pocket and speed dialled his dads’ number. They would know what to do.

“Andrew? Where the fuck are you? You were supposed to be home already!” one of his dads, Roman, yelled upon picking up.

Andy opened his mouth to tell him what was going on, but he didn’t know how to start. His throat was so tight; he couldn’t get a word out. Instead, he just breathed heavily into the phone as tears gathered in his eyes.

“Andy?”

“Dad-,” he choked out eventually, a sob tearing from his throat immediately after.

“Andy, what’s wrong? Baby, c’mon, tell me what’s going on,” his dad urged him, his voice softer and with a more concerned inflection now. “Victor, get the driver ready!” Andy heard him say distantly. “We’re coming to you, ‘kay? Just tell me where you are,” he spoke to him directly again.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Andrew tried to collect his thoughts and then whispered the alley’s name he was currently standing in. “Please come quick, dad. Please,” he snivelled.

Back at home, Roman rushed Victor downstairs and into his Rolls Royce. Quickly, he gave the driver the address and told him to hit the fucking gas, but park a street away from the actual alley Andy was in, lest they might alert someone to their presence.

“He sounded so fucking afraid, Vic. What do you think happened? Fuck! That’s why I don’t like letting him go out on his own!” Roman hissed, punching the seat beside him.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out. We have to stay focused, though, Roman. Andy needs us,” Victor replied, looking back at him from the front passenger seat.

“I know that, ugh! How can you be so fucking calm?”

Zsasz just shrugged and Roman huffed, crossing his arms. Why couldn’t Victor show that he was out of his mind with concern, too? Why did he always have to be the emotional one? It was annoying and unfair.

Soon enough, they arrived at a street away from the alleyway their son was in, and they quickly armed themselves – both with guns and knives, concealed by their clothing. Silently, they walked up the alley; Victor in front of Roman, making sure it was safe. Then, they turned the corner and came to a sudden halt.

There Andrew stood, soiled in blood with wide, wet eyes, shaking and frozen to the spot, illuminated by the soft yellow light of the only streetlamp in the alley.

When their gaze tore from him and further down to the floor, they saw the corpse of a man. He looked homeless to Roman, and it wouldn’t surprise him at all if he was.

“Dads-,” Andy sobbed, sounding so small and terrified.

Roman’s heart sank. He hasn’t heard his son sound like that since he’d been a younger child, plagued by nightmares. But fuck, he still was a child, wasn’t he? After all, he was only nineteen-years old.

“Oh, baby. It’s okay,” Roman said and quickly walked over to his boy, cupping his cheeks in his gloved hands, “Are you hurt?”

“A little,” Andy admitted brokenly and Roman clenched his jaw.

What kind of fucking prick thought it to be a good idea to hurt his son?

Victor crouched down beside them and looked the body over. “You shot him?” he asked, looking up at his son, who choked out a soft ‘yes’ in answer.

“I didn’t mean to kill him! I swear, I didn’t! It just sort of happened, I don’t know how. He came onto me and threatened me with the gun and I defended myself. I only wanted to hurt him! But suddenly the gun went off and he was dead. Just like that!” Andy explained frantically, his breaths coming out in short bursts, as he was starting to hyperventilate.

“Ssshhh, sh, sh, sh. It’s alright. We’ve got you. No one is mad at you, ‘kay?” Roman tried to shush his son, gently stroking his thumbs over his puffy, wet cheeks.

“B-but when the police find out- They’ll put me away!”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry about that. You won’t go to jail. I’ve got the police on my payroll. Not only that, but I’ll call my men and they’ll clean up here. No one’s going to find him or know he’s been killed.”

“Are you sure?”

Roman couldn’t help but let out a short laugh, hearing Victor, who finally got up from that filthy floor, do the same. “Yes, I’m certain. Otherwise your papa and I would have been in prison a long time ago, ‘kay?”

Andrew nodded and Roman leaned in to press a short kiss to his son’s sweaty brow. Then, he let go of him to get on his phone and wake up some of his goons, so they could do their job.

While he was busy on the phone, Roman saw Victor hugging Andrew, rubbing his arms and back soothingly and kissing his hair. It made him smile. Zsasz was surprisingly good at being a father. Roman envied him for how easy it seemed to be for him.

When he got off the phone, he told the other two that they’d have to wait here for his men to arrive, before they could return home without a second thought. Andrew certainly didn’t like it and neither did Roman, but it was necessary, lest someone might have found the body and actually called the fucking cops, then. That just wouldn’t do.

Finally, a good twenty minutes later, his goons have arrived and he instructed them quickly. Then, he ushered Andy and Zsasz back to his car, so that they could leave for good. Thank fuck, it had all gone smoothly thus far.

“Victor will take a look at your wounds at home and then you’ll wash up,” Roman stated, holding his son’s hand in his own. He would have put his arm around him, but the blood on him, although dried by then, didn’t allow it for him.

“Yeah, alright. Thank you, dad. For everything,” Andy whispered. He’s finally stopped crying, then, but he was still trembling severely; although that wasn’t necessarily surprising.

As they eventually came through the door, Zsasz immediately walked Andy into the bathroom to take a look at his wounds. Roman followed them, observing the whole thing from a safe distance in the doorway. Apparently, Andrew has gotten away with some bruises on his torso, a cut on his left arm and a split open lip that Roman only registered now in the bright bathroom lights.

“Take a shower, Andy. I’ll come and nurse your wounds afterwards, alright? If you need anything, just tell us,” Zsasz finished his inspection and Andrew nodded, thanking him quietly.

Then, Roman and Victor left Andy alone, until he was either done with washing up, or needed them all of a sudden - whichever happened first.

Frankly, Sionis felt sick to his stomach. This was his son, his baby – wounded and in shock, because he had to involuntarily take someone’s life to save his own. It was wrong on so many levels and it left Roman heartbroken and seething with rage.

“Maybe we should have shown him this side of our business before, already,” Victor mused, putting his hands on Roman’s shoulder and massaging them as he did so often.

Roman scoffed, “Why? So he wouldn’t have been so shaken up, now?”

“I don’t know, yes. I just don’t wanna see him like this again, y’know? God knows how long this will stick with him.”

“I know what you mean… We’ll just have to support him throughout and then he’ll be better, soon,” Roman responded, deep in thought, “That’s what other parents would do, right?”

“Yeah, I think so. I guess we’ll also just have to listen to what he says he needs. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“Fuck, I hope so. Vic, I-,” Roman heaved a deep, shuddering sigh, “I was so scared we’d lose him. That some rival gang has gotten their hands on him or some fucking shit like that.”

“I know. I thought the same thing. But he’s okay. Shaken up and a little hurt, but he’s alive, at least.”

Zsasz stopped kneading Roman’s shoulders and instead wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling the back of his head. Roman relaxed into the embrace, closing his eyes for a moment, faintly hearing the water from the shower.

Later, after Andy has showered and gotten his wounds taken care of by Victor, he went to bed. Roman and Victor tucked him in, just like when he was still a boy and kissed his cheeks and forehead one after the other.

“Goodnight, baby,” Roman murmured, brushing his son’s hair back.

“Goodnight, dads. I love you,” Andy replied softly, looking up at the two of them with a small, quivering smile on his face.

“We love you, too. Now sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise,” Zsasz responded, then and walked over to the door with Roman in front of him.

Then, they switched the lights off and closed the bedroom door, walking into their own room afterwards and sitting down on the bed. As soon as they sat down, they leaned against each other and heaved sighs of relief.

Andrew was alive and safe. That was all that mattered.

[renohasbigtits]

Oh my goodness those Ignis mpreg headcanons were so well written! I really enjoyed them they were really cute, if ya don’t mind me asking could you do Prompto next? I’ll leave all the details up to you but plz give us more uwu

Mpreg Prompto (Final Fantasy 15 Headcanons)

Omg ☺️ I’m glad you liked the Iggy one. Honestly While making the Ignis one, I was thinking about doing a Prompto Mpreg headcanon but I didn’t think someone would ask for a Prompto one.

But I will give the the people what they want!! PROMPTO MPREG!! Expect this to be very silly 🙃

Idk where this takes place, I’ll leave it to your imagination ;) just know that no ones dead! Yay everyone lives!!

One more thing: this does contain Mpreg (Male Pregnancy. Don’t like? Don’t read! Constructive feedback is welcome!)



• He’s a lot of things (being adorable cinnamon roll is one 🥰) but stupid isn’t one of them.

• he’ll noticed 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 how he’s gaining weight and starts to become more insecure (someone hug him pls)

Minor Warning: mentions of eating disorder habits.

• he starts to exercise more but he pushes himself a little to far of what people consider “Normal” and stops eating around people. That caught Ignis’s eye.

• Ignis motherly instincts kick in (Noct ain’t his only kid ya know) he confronts Prompto’s lack of appetite but Prompto doubles down.

• Ignis asks Noctis to, as his Best Friend, To help Prompto. Noctis goes to talk to his Best Friend.

•Noct tries to talk to Prompto about his excessive exercise and seemingly lack of appetite but Noctis’s awkwardness and his unintentional nonchalant attitude, doesn’t help and Prompto just ignores his friends concerns.

•however, one day Prompto passes out while running and is rushed to the hospital.

•it’s only then, he’s given the shocking news; He’s Pregnant! Not just that, he’s already a month Pregnant!

•he’s in shock and disbelief at first. How could that happ-

•oh yeah he had sex (duh)

•to make a long story short, Prompto was at a party, met someone, was getting along great and...well yeah you guess the rest xD (tbh I’m not comfortable or good at describing sex scenes, so I’m not gonna torture you guys 😅)

•after that, Prompto never saw (or heard) from them again.

•Gladio was like “Welp, it least you got laid!”

• meanwhile Noctis and Ignis: 👨‍🦯👨‍🦯

•Now, in a hospital bed, with the news that he’s Pregnant, Prompto feels alone, confused and scared. So he, reluctantly, turns to his friends for help.

•Noctis jaw was on the floor, he wanted it to be a joke. It wasn’t a joke.

•Gladio was: 📉📈📉📈📉📈📉

•Ignis, being the most calmest and levelheaded, tells Prompto to try to contact the baby’s other parent (can you tell I’m trying to be gender neutral? What can I say I love my he’s, she’s, and they’s 🥰)

•this, however, proves to be a colossal failure, since Prompto doesn’t even remember their name!

•Out of stress Prompto begins to cry :’(

• Noctis finally sees the seriousness of the situation, promises his best friend to help him and be there for him.

•Ignis and Gladio as well! Yay Grandma and Grandpa!...I mean Uncles!!!

•One Month: Prompto begun to eat correctly again. He’s lucky that the baby wasn’t harmed.

•this poor boy...gets sick a lot!!

•morning sickness is his worst enemy!!!

• “Now I know what my Mom went through...”

• he has the most RANDOM cravings...poor Ignis.

•he has to make the weirdest shit for Prompto!

•it least he’s eating it, so it’s worth it...kinda.

•Noctis is very protective of his friend. He knows people can be... judge mental.

•if anyone gives Prompto weird looks or glares.

•Oh Hell No!

•Noctis ain’t having none of it!!

•he’ll glare at them back! “What? What the hell are you staring at?!”

•He almost fought someone.

•Gladio had to stop him, he’s making Prompto cry (and that shit ain’t acceptable)

•Ignis just sighs. (Being a single mother is hard guys)

• Second Month: Prompto’s belly keeps gets bigger. He proud and nervous. He feels like he’s getting fat.

•The Doctor assures him that he’s not getting fat, he’s womb is getting bigger, which means the baby is growing fine.

•plus his friends are the best support system!!!

•lris gets him baby clothes, baby toys, etc.

•you better believe he’s taking pics of his baby bump.

•not just because it’s adorable, but because he wants to document it! He wants to scrapbook it!! It’s one of his biggest projects and he wants it to be perfect!

•Third Month: he has to buy new clothes ;-; he’s already outgrowing the ones he has!

• Prompto’s insecurity: 📈📈📈

•Noctis still tries to fight ANYONE who even looks at Prompto.

•Even Gladio gets annoyed with Noct fighting people and arguing with security to not kick them out.

•”Noct stop trying to fight people or your getting nothing but vegetables!!!”

•oh and you just know Prompto is gonna buy some Chocobo plushies, he’s kid is gonna love Chocobo’s as much as he does!

•55% of the baby supplies is Chocobo related.

•Fouth Month: This is it. He finds out the baby’s gender!

•it takes a while cuz the baby was an awkward position.

•”poor little guy, he must feel uncomfortable as much as I do.”

•”she’s actually a girl, Prompto. Congrats it’s a Girl!”

•”AAHAHAAHAH! IT’S A GIRL!” lris had to scream that where Noctis, Gladio and “I haven’t had my Coffee yet” Ignis could hear.

•THAT’S IT! I’M MAKING IT’S A GIRL CAKE!!

•that’s how they celebrate the announcement of the baby’s gender.

•Noct wouldn’t admit it but he’s really excited to be an Uncle.

•Gladio and Ignis as well.

•however, Prompto does not have much experience with taking care of Babies, so he starts practicing.

•for the next couple months, he training to take care of baby.

•he gets better but he fears he won’t be a good father (or mother) to his unborn Daughter.

•he doesn’t want her to feel what he felt growing up; loneliness.

•he promises her that he’ll never let her feel alone. He wants her feel loved and safe.

Eight Months: She’s already kicking. Literally!

•Seriously, She’s the most active baby the Doctor’s ever seen!

•let’s hope she won’t be too energetic....

•lris decides to make a baby shower for Prompto. The plan is simple:

•Ignis makes the food. (So many new Recipeh’s)

•Noctis keeps Prompto distracted. It’s not that hard as it sounds, he takes Prompto to a Chocobo farm!

•all tho, Prompto can’t ride the Chocobros cause he might fall and hurt himself and his unborn daughter, but he’s really enjoying himself. The plan is going smoothly.

•meanwhile Gladio decorates with the material he’s given because Iris doesn’t trust him to bring his own.

•it’s small and not many people came but hey! It’s the thought that that counts.

•Noct gets a text to bring Prompto to the party. The plan is going great!

•Prompto was so moved by all the hard work and the effort his friends made, that he balled his eyes out.

•it went great! They eaten the delicious food (THATS IT! GRANDMA IGNIS ACTIVITY!)

•the gifts were adorable ☺️

•Noct’s gift (note: lris had to drag Noct to a baby store, so she and Noct could get a gift. Much to Noct’s embarrassment) was Rare Black Chocobo plush!

•it was so cute! (In a dark way)

•Gladio’s was an adorable baby book. (He would have gotten a book about Chocobos but they didn’t have any ;-;)

•Ignis’s was a strange one. It was a coffee maker.

•”Iggy...why would I need this l?”

•”Cause your gonna be up all night.”

•believe me. Ignis knows all to well.

•lris’s gift was an Moogle Plush.

•It went amazing! (Prompto got to take some left overs home)

•Nine Month: The last month. The doctor was put Prompto on bed rest. Don’t walk around too much, try to stay hydrated.

•Noctis has to come over to look after Prompto during the last days of his Pregnancy.

•to say Prompto is nervous would be an understatement!!

•he’s sooo scared to feel what labor is like. He knows it’s extremely painful. Yeah he’s having a c-section but....

•Wait! WHAT WILL THE C-SECTION FEEL LIKE?!?!?

•he wouldn’t have to wait long...

•during the night, Prompto was having a hard time sleeping, due to some back pain (you know where this is going...)

•trying to get up, Prompto feels something wet.

•”NOCT!”

•”what I was drea-“

•”Prompto...did your water break?!”

•”I-I don’t know!!”

•unsure what to do, Noct (panicking) calls Ignis.

•”IGGY! I THINK PROMPTO’S WATER BROKE? MAYBE? I DON’T KNOW!”

•”Noct, how about you call the midwife?” Said Ignis calmly. (Let me know if you got that joke 😉)

•Noct calls the midwife, she tell him to bring Prompto to the hospital.

•(weeeeeeeeee wooooooooooo 🚑)

•They figure out pretty quickly that, the baby is coming NOW!

•poor Noct, sitting in the waiting room with a pajama top on and unclean pants (no shoes btw) hoping that it would go well and nothing happen to Prompto and his niece.

•after for what seems like forever, A nurse comes out with a small bundle in his arms.

•”He wanted you to hold her.”

•Noct was stunned. In his arms with Prompto’s baby girl!

•and she was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen!

•this tiny little thing, has his blond hair, blue eyes, even his freckles! She was the cutest thing ever!!

•Noct even shed a tear. He’s definitely not telling anyone about that.

30 Minutes Earlier

•Prompto just woken up. He passed out after he heard her cries.

•now, waking up; he wants to see his baby girl.

•once he sees her again, he basically falls in love all over again.

•Crying while her eyes were looking at his.

•”Hi there...nice to meet you.”

•She cooed in response. OMG.

•everyone else fell in love with her too.

•”She’s Adorable.”

•”hard to believe she’ll grow up so big.”

•she was basically welcome with open arms.

•over the years, shes basically a mini version of Prompto with a bit of a shy streak.

•he takes so.many.pics that she becomes camera shy.

•She LOVES chocobos and love to ride them with her Daddy ^^

•Noct is basically her second favorite person. She’s almost always falling asleep on him. He’s not complaining tho.

•btw, that Black Chocobo toy? It’s her absolute favorite.

•Ignis has to be her third favorite.

•she always refers to him as Mama Iggy. Much to Iggy’s embarrassment.

•She likes helping him cook. She’s a little mini helper and even passes out food. Ignis greatly appreciates the help.

•Gladio gives the best piggy back rides!

•she helps him a little with his exercise.

•Prompto and his Daughter are the closest you’ll ever see.

•she’s his rock and he’s her Father.

•When he finds out his origins and his “Father” he doubt downs to make sure he’s never like him. Period.

•After Noct disappears, She’s helps him get ready for Noctis’s eventual return.

•while getting stronger herself.

•When Noctis returns (and brings back the light) he’s shocked and happy to see that Prompto’s Daughter, has not changed much (besides age)

•she now helps around the Citadel.

•Prompto? Well

•Prompto is truly great full for having his daughter in his life.

•”Hey D/N?”

•”Yeah Dad?”

•”I love you.”

•”I love you too Dad.”

OMG! I did not expect this to be fucking long! 😅 well I hope I did this Justice. To who requested this, I hope you loved it!

I guess it turned more serious than silly huh? Welp, I still hoped you guys liked it!

Please Reblog!!

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Interrogation

15/06/2020: Sooo, hi there. Me and @marshmallow--3​ were talking (once again) and we got to talking about how assassins would react while being interrogated. Naturally, I like my dark fics + my hurt/comfort fics, so this came out. It’s an experiment than unashamedly spans 4.5K words, but I enjoyed writing it and after a bit of convincing I decided to post it. I worked surprisingly hard on this. I also like putting my characters through their paces. This can also be considered as an ‘asshole writing 101′ course for me bc everyone knows I need it lmao. Okay, enough justification; just... here -- have Jacob needing a lot of hugs :) heed the warnings, friends -- you have been warned. Spoilers for the fic in the warnings, btw

Feedback is greatly appreciated :D

Also, mainly GN!Reader (apart from the first scene) :)

Italics are thoughts bt-dubs.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, beaten for information, abduction, sick mention, PTSD mention, Night terrors, naked mention (sfw we good)... Yeah I got a bit carried away here :3 (if I missed any please lmk)

----------

“Jacob, we need that intel.”

“Why does it have to be me? I prefer to have my weapons on my person, if you don’t mind.” Jacob was sitting at the desk everyone was talking around, feet crossed on the desk.

“Maybe it’s because it’s a Gentleman’s Club, and women don’t necessarily fit in; if they find a single blade on you, the entire mission is compromised.” Evie looked pointedly at her brother. 

He looked to you for help, but you held your hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me; she’s got a point.”

Sighing, he rose to his feet, leaning against the wood and drumming his fingers against it. “Fine. Who am I tailing again?”

----------

“Weapons, please.” Evie stopped him before he could go anywhere.

“What weapons?” He smiled innocently at his sister, while you scoffed amusedly from behind her. 

She said nothing, and instead held her hand out expectantly. Obstinately, Jacob relented, pulling out his cane sword and giving her his thigh holster. “All of them.” 

His kukri came out of his waistcoat.

“All. Of. Them.”

His gauntlet was reluctantly confiscated. As was his revolver.

Evie raised an eyebrow. “Alright, fine!” He reached into his boot and pulled out another knife. “How did you know?”

“I saw you hide it.”

When they were finished, you walked up to him. “Be back by tonight. Alright?” You kissed him softly. He broke apart and gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll barely notice I’m gone.” As the train came to a stop, you watched as he blended into the crowd at the station, disappearing in the blink of an eye. 

----------

The courier Jacob was supposed to tail wasn’t too hard to find. Bowler hat, stocky build, weird scar on his cheek… All he had to do was get close enough to hear the password, get in and get out. 

But first, he had to follow him there. In unfamiliar territory. No gangs, no Rooks.

Jacob left his top hat on the train, opting for using his hood as an added source of anonymity as he stalked his target. The streets were busy, and he lost eyes on the man’s bowler hat once or twice, but all in all, it was going smoothly. They were halfway down a street when the target crossed the road and went into an alleyway, sparse of people. 

Jacob looked both ways before crossing after him, walking through as naturally as possible, in case he runs into people he would rather avoid. The road took him into a clearing blocked in by buildings, but not a man in sight. His brows furrowed, confused at where his target could have gone. Looking around, he saw that there was only one exit, and that was behind him. There was no way the target could have circled back around without him noticing.

“Wait a second…” 

There were multiple small clicks, before multiple people came out of nowhere, all pointing firearms at him. Jacob raised his hands in surrender, taking small, calculated steps backwards. “Let’s just take it easy for a moment; I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding.”

“Our boss wants you alive. I couldn’t really care. It’s best if you cooperate, Mr Frye; I’m thinking you’ll put up less of a fight dead.” The hammer was pulled down with a resounding ‘click’ for good measure. The more Jacob observed, the more Templar crosses he could find. 

Oh, for the love of--

Before he could react, two feet came into contact with the back of his knees, and he was forced face down to the ground. His shoulders were pinned as his arms were forced behind his back. He blindly managed to hit someone with his elbow, but it never released any pressure as he felt thick rope cinch around his wrist and knotted tightly, lest he manage to break free of them. “Are you certain we can’t come to some sort of agreement?” His words came out half mumbled, as his face was pushed against the mud.

All too suddenly he was pulled back up to his knees, a very gruff sounding “Get up,” mumbled in his ear. The one seemingly in charge of this whole operation stood in front of him. Sounds of an approaching carriage came closer. Assessing the distance between the two, Jacob smirked. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m spoken for.” 

The man standing over him didn’t react. “Do it,” he said to the people holding him. 

Jacob’s jaw was prised open before a rag was forced in, a bag coming over his head a moment after. He was pulled roughly to his feet and couldn’t get a stable footing before a force threw him backwards, landing on the floor of the carriage with his hands trapped under him. A noise escaped his throat. Jacob could only hope to use his sense of hearing as he shuffled backwards to lean against the door behind him, as multiple people entered the carriage and shut the door -- to supervise, no doubt. The wall was hit two times, and the horses began to trot.  

The journey was the only time he could hope to escape; who knows how they’d be keeping him once they arrived.

He couldn’t help cursing himself under his breath, but it was only comprehended as a random noise to the others in the cab. Jacob began to wiggle his fingers, digits searching the wall behind him for something sharp, like a nail or some splintered wood. His fidgeting must have been noticed, because someone lightly kicked his leg. “Don’t even think about it.” He felt something cold press against his temple, a click sounding in his left ear. He held an involuntary breath as light chuckles rippled around the carriage.

“Forgive me for not finding this funny…” he quipped inwardly.

The gun barrel mockingly shoved Jacob’s head to the side, a silent threat, before withdrawing. 

He had a three mile long argument to have with Evie after this.

He tried to swallow, pushing down the rising anxiety in his throat. Is there a way out of this that wouldn’t end with a bullet in his brain?

There must be.

His fists clench and unclench restlessly as he thinks. Or, tries to think.

All he could decipher was the carriage turning right, pressing him against the wall behind him, before stopping. There was a long moment of waiting, before the door he was leaning against opened. He fell to the ground, the air knocked out of him. Without giving him a moment to collect himself, hands grabbed his arms and pulled. His orientation was in shambles; he couldn’t figure out which way was where. 

There were momentary pauses as doors opened, and just as he had begun to breathe properly, he was shoved. His balance was thrown off, and wood bit into him as he rolled down an incline. He hit the floor ungracefully, half haphazardly dragging a knee up; he was pushed down some stairs. Stifled groans were muted by his gag as they yanked him up again, pushing him down onto a chair. Multiple people tightly bound his ankles to the legs and his wrists between the rungs, the pressure pinning him down causing his heart to skip a beat. 

He hated this feeling of restriction; of being exposed. He knew he had no control. He knew he was fucked.

His head began to throb, no doubt an injury from his tirade with the stairs. As the people around him left, he tested his bonds. There was no give whatsoever; the rope bound his wrists to the rungs behind him, pulling his shoulders taut. He tried lifting his leg; he could bounce them, but that was it. It was instinct; the restless energy needing a bigger outlet. His anxiety was palpable, and he found himself exhaling through his nose multiple times in an attempt to calm himself down. He tried to look around through the material over his head, increasingly desperate, though he knew his chances of escaping were low now that they had him exactly where they wanted him. He briefly wondered whether he’d ever see natural daylight again. 

… Shit.

He had no idea where he was; if he got out, then what? He’d have to cross that bridge when he comes to it.

If he comes to it.

Resigning himself to wait, he sat straight, challenging his bonds every now and then, hoping that the next time would be different.

It didn’t take too much longer for the door to open again, but the fear inside him was painful, squeezing his heart in an iron fist. He strained his ears, and heard multiple light footsteps, followed by a distinct pair of slow and heavy ones. They screamed authority as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

The bag was pulled harshly from his head, light blinding him as he squinted, trying to acquaint himself with the area around him. Jacob tried to swallow his anxiety as he took in the newcomer’s appearance; easily over six foot, and built of pure muscle. 

Bloody hell.

Someone came up to him and pulled the gag out of his mouth. He tried re-introducing saliva as the man came closer, his small entourage disbanding around the room behind him. 

“If this was so urgent, couldn’t you have booked a bloody appointment?” 

The man chuckled, though there was no humour in his tone. He rubbed his wrist before he swung at Jacob’s cheek, whipping his head to the side.

His jaw was seized and pulled to lock eyes with the six foot tall interrogator. “I won’t stand for that; understand?” His voice was low and rumbled maliciously. Jacob glared at him defiantly, heart pounding in his ears. He responded by spitting blood in his face. The man recoiled violently, wiping the substance out of his eyes. Jacob exhaled amusedly through his nose. 

Once the man recovered, he chuckled again. “Cute.” He walked over to Jacob, bending down to his eye level as he rolled up his sleeves. “Let’s start with an easy one; what’s your name?”

“Ethan.” He was met with a punch to the gut. 

“I forgot to tell you; these first few questions? I know the answers to them. I know when you’re giving me bullshit.” He grasped his hair and harshly pulled. “Let’s try again; your name.”

He said nothing and was considering lying again, until the man gave another rough tug, threatening to yank his hair right out of his scalp. “Jacob.” He relented through gritted teeth, seething in frustration. His hair was released.

“Nice to interrogate you, Jacob.” The man took a step back and leaned on a table a few feet away. “I’m the Boss around here. See how easy things are when you cooperate?”

The assassin rolled his eyes. 

“Now, I was told that you were, as you put it, ‘spoken for’.”

Jacob raised an unimpressed brow as he tried to hide the hitch in his breath.

“Who is it? A woman? A man?” Jacob left his expression unchanged. “I don’t judge!” The ‘Boss’ raised his hands. “I bet I can guess their name: Henry, Evie… Y/N, perhaps?” Jacob raised his chin and clenched his jaw, an involuntary defensive move as he listed his closest friend, his sister, and his lover all at once. 

“You see,” the Boss sighed, pushing himself off the table. “Even if you don’t say anything, you’re just as good to us as bait. If you speak now, you could be saving everyone a headache. Just remember that.

“Now; why were you tailing that courier?”

----------

The session ended with a condescending backhand. “We’ll pick this up again later.”

Jacob smiled mockingly. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

Once he was finally alone, his defiant front dropped, and he allowed himself to feel the pain in his torso. He groaned as he shifted in his seat, his ribs aching from the inside. He knew he wouldn’t give them any information, no matter how hard they tried to extract it. He instinctively tried to hold his side, but to no avail. His tongue ran over the cut on his lip, busted open time and again. 

He doesn’t know how long it’s been; hours or days. But he’s tired, thirsty, and in pain. He can barely keep his eyes open, but his anxiety has kept him awake; an insomnia he could never quite shake. He was too tired to expend any of it physically; it was brewing inside him like a bad cup of tea. He couldn’t stop thinking about the threat of you, Evie, and even Henry. Even so, unless he could be sure his information would be able to counteract that, he kept it to himself.

His chin rested on his chest, and he was on the verge of passing out when the door opened again, causing him to jump and tense at the sudden loud noise. “Sorry I’m late; this is the only time I could slip in.” 

The Boss took in Jacob’s tired eyes. “Did I wake you? Such a shame.” He laughed at his own quip. 

“It’s fine; my schedule was open.” Jacob tried to bite back.

“Seeing as you weren’t doing so well answering our earlier questions, I decided to start on some different ones, this time.” 

Jacob furrowed his brows. “What makes you think that I’d tell you anything?” 

The Boss revealed items he was hiding behind his back. “Are you thirsty?” 

Jacob tried to smirk at the jug and glasses, though it wasn't as wide as before. “Kind of you to offer.”

The Boss poured out all the water into a few glasses. “You can have as much as you want; just tell me what I want to know; what have you learnt about our current… agenda? Any heists being planned that we need to know about?”

There’s a few moments of silence, before Jacob spoke, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “We’ve decided to go on holiday for a few weeks, actually.” 

The Boss huffed humorlessly. He grabbed a glass of water and brought it near to Jacob, before chucking it over his face. Trying not to react, Jacob only flinched. The liquid made the cuts on his face twinge. “That’s for lying.” Discarded on the table sat a pair of brass knuckles, spiked and gnarly. He picked them up, sliding them over his fingers before clenching a fist to test his comfort. 

“I’m going to ask you this one more time…”

----------

“You’re going to be here for a long time, Frye. Get comfortable.”

Not likely.

The last words spoken to him felt like hours ago. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, his body forcing him to sleep by shutting down. Slumped forwards in his chair, his arms were the only thing holding him upright. His shoulders were numb. He tested his bonds again, as if they would magically loosen after all this time. Fingers stretching, he tried to get blood black in his hands. He rotated his wrists, wincing as the rope pinched his raw skin. His leg began to jump of its own accord once he was faced with his own hopelessness again. 

How long would they keep him alive for? How long until help comes? They must have realised that he was missing by now, right? 

He heaved unsteady breaths out of his lungs; keeping his composure was becoming increasingly difficult, and he was looking at the increased likelihood of coming face to face with his own mortality a lot sooner than he would have liked. 

The only reason why he hadn’t starved was because of someone who came to feed and water him once a day, though he can barely stomach solids. “It will get easier if you tell them the truth.” They kept saying the same things over and over again. 

“Stop it.” Jacob didn’t want to hear any more; his mind was conflicted -- whose side were they on?

“Just tell them what they want to hear; it will make it so much better for you.” 

Jacob clenched his jaw and remained silent. 

“Otherwise, they’ll keep beating you.” They prodded Jacob’s ribs, and he squeezed his eyes shut in pain, refusing to make a sound. They took off his coat a while ago, exposing his body for more beatings. “Food for thought,” they said as they left him in silence once again.

The only other time he would get contact with another human being is when they’d take him out of the room for a bathroom break; they’d undo the rope before rebinding his hands in front of him immediately, dragging him to the bathroom before he’s forced back into the same chair again, waiting for the cycle to repeat.

The familiar tell of nausea was growing, and his stomach had stopped holding down the food he’d been given. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. 

----------

He was awoken by a series of noises that blended into each other, incomprehensible from the next. 

The door opened, and the Boss walked down the stairs, a serious expression on his face. “You have visitors, Jacob.” A fist came into contact with his gut, and for the first time his pain was vocalised. Though still stifled, the noise was noticeable. “It’s a shame, really. We were getting somewhere with you. Hopefully those allies of yours won’t be as stubborn.” 

He grabbed a cloth and balled it up, being met with almost no resistance as it was pressed into Jacob’s mouth. “Not a sound.” He crossed the room at pace, unsheathing a knife as he closed and locked the door behind him. 

The aftershocks of the assault on his gut still had him wincing, but as he heard gunshots and cries above him, he began to panic.

People he cared about could die, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

With every bang that erupted above him, his heart rate increased. He tried to weakly pull at the ropes again, and made a hopeless noise through the fabric in his mouth as he got nowhere. He was frustrated, anxious, and scared. The future was completely out of his control. 

His body wouldn’t listen to his mind; it was slumped in the chair, all but exhausted. He couldn’t breathe. Fear clouded his mind, the adrenaline pushing him to his limits. It wasn’t until he tasted the salt in the gag that he realised that a few tears had escaped. He closed his eyes.

This wasn’t him. He needed to stay calm.

I’m not usually the praying type, but if anyone at all is up there, keep them safe…

Please…

“Please…” It sounded like a groan but he said it; he was never one to beg, but he’d do anything to know what the hell was going on up there.

Everything stopped when he heard it.

“Jacob?” 

He barely moved, his mind clouded, but his heart swelled in relief at the voice -- a relieved noise that became stifled in his throat. But then, he remembered what was said to him.

He was bait.

He flinched as the door was kicked down, fists weakly clenching behind him. Footsteps came down the stairs. 

 He heard someone kneel in front of him. “Jacob? Hey, it’s me.” His face was taken into gentle hands, and the fabric was taken out of his mouth. “Jesus… Can you open your eyes, Jacob?” Slowly, he did, eyes heavy with exhaustion. You were in front of him, visibly relieved at his responsiveness.

“No… Please, leave.” He tried to pull his face out of your hands.

“They’re dead, Jacob. We’re safe; you’re safe now.” 

The ropes around his wrists broke, and he gasped in pain as he fell forward into you, hands slowly coming up to grasp your arms. Evie had moved to Jacob’s ankles, quickly cutting his bonds. “We were given false intel from the beginning; it was always going to be a trap.”

You pulled back. “Can you walk?” 

Jacob nodded, the action dizzying him. You pulled his arm over your shoulders and pulled him to his feet, hissing in pain at the movement in his torso. You stood him up, but he began to crumple almost immediately. Evie half caught him, copying your movements. 

Slowly but surely, he was brought out into the open. It was overcast and miserable outside (not the greeting he was expecting). His vision swam with flecks of green. How you managed to bring Rooks out here, he didn’t know. 

Gang members helped him into a carriage that was parked out in front, and you followed, helping him onto the seat. You lowered him down so he was lying on his back, his head in your lap. “How did you find me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s a long story.” You pushed his hair out of his eyes, observing his wounds in worry. “I’m so sorry we didn’t come sooner.”

Jacob smiled softly and grasped your hand, rocking with the gentle movement of the carriage. “You came; that’s what matters.”

The soothing motion of your thumb over the back of his hand finally convinced his brain to shut down, engulfing him in the comfort of sleep.

----------

He was back in the cellar. Except this time, he wasn’t alone. There was someone across from him, he couldn’t tell who it was, but they were familiar. And they were screaming. There was no way for him to get them to stop, even as he began to beg, to plead, to volunteer information if they would just stop hurting them…

He startled himself awake, gasping. His eyes were open and alert, with his skin covered in a sheet of sweat. 

He wasn’t in a cellar; he was in a bed. 

Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Everything is fine...

He tried to sit up, but before he moved an inch a pained gasp left his lips. He clutched at his torso, as if holding it would stop the pain. Once it began to subside, he lifted the sheet off of his body. He was shirtless, and he was wearing clean breeches. He raised an eyebrow, but that was low on his list of priorities. Instead, he saw green, blue, and purple bruises saturating his skin. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his chest, no doubt securing a few broken ribs. He threw his legs over the side of the pain, pausing at the fresh wave of pain washing over his body. His eyes were closed as the door opened somewhere, causing him to jump slightly. “Jacob, you’re awake!” 

He looked up and smiled when he saw you come towards him. “How long was I asleep?” 

“Over a day. Um, did you call for me, just now?” You heard him scream for you, most likely in his sleep.

“No, why?” He furrowed his brows as he watched your expression.

You decided to not pry, and instead let him tell you of his own accord, whenever that may be. “No reason; I must have been hearing things. Listen, you need to rest for a bit longer. You’ve taken a lot of damage.”

“Nonsense; I’m fine now.” He went to stand up, but sat back down as his world began to spin. “I’m not staying here… wherever we are.”

“We’re in Lambeth Asylum. We took you straight to Florence Nightingale.”

“Where’s Evie?”

“I finally got her to rest; she hasn’t been able to sleep at all since…”

“Sounds like her.”

“What happened, Jacob? When you didn’t come back that night, I thought you went to the pub or something, but you still weren’t back by the next day. How did you end up outside London?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. One moment, I was following a man in a bowler hat, and the next I was ambushed by about fifty Templars.” Your lips quirked at the exaggeration. 

“I was so worried, Jacob. They almost killed you.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than fisticuffs to take me out.” 

You took his face in your hands. “While we’re here, you need a bath.”

“And here I thought you were going to be romantic.”

“Aha. Cute.”

The word echoed in Jacob’s mind as you prepared the hot water. Absently, his hand ran over his bandages, replaying the memories in his mind. 

“Jacob!” 

“Huh?” He didn’t realise he was staring off into space until you looked at him with concern. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yes, fine.” 

You went over to him and helped him up, supporting him over to the tub. “Get in.” 

“If you wanted to--”

“Don’t finish that sentence; we’ve seen each other naked enough times.” 

He chuckled, undressed and slowly sat in the warm water, with help from you. “What about the bandages?”

“I’ll replace them afterwards; they’re there to keep your ribs in place.”

As Jacob washed his lower half, albeit slowly, you got a clean rag and dipped it in the water before turning his face towards you. You wiped the grime away from the open wounds on his forehead and lip. “Ow.” He didn’t flinch, but he still voiced his pain in a deadpanned tone. 

“Sincerest apologies,” you teased, for a moment it was silent, with Jacob watching you intently, before he nudged your hand away, leaning in to kiss you. It was a kiss he never thought he’d give you so soon; the ‘I-thought-I’d-never-see-you-again’ kiss. You broke apart, knowing exactly what he was feeling. “It’s alright now,” you reassured, swapping the rag for hair oils. He returned the smile you gave him, allowing himself to breathe.

You poured water over his head as you tilted it back, shielding his face from the liquid. Then, you massaged his scalp, watching as he slowly became more relaxed. 

“What do I have to do to get this more often?” he murmured softly.

“Just ask,” you laughed. 

“What do I have to do... to do this for you?” You washed out the suds in his hair, sweeping it back. 

“Again, ask -- wait until you’ve healed though.”

“If I must.” 

----------

On the outside, Jacob was healing fine. 

On the inside, scarring was plentiful. 

He was back on the train after a few weeks, glad to be somewhere he could call home. Though his mind always seemed to be somewhere else. 

Walking around the carriages, he was mostly doing desk work; Evie’s way to keep him off the streets until his body was healed. 

Night terrors frequently plagued him. He’d bring you into his arms at the end of the day, but as he fell further into his subconscious, he began to heave out frightened breaths. You would sometimes wake up when it was at its height, but other times his cries for help, his begs and pleads and calls of your name as he startles, would sit you up straight. You’d wake him up as gently as you could, waiting patiently for him to realise where he was and who you were, the fright slowly dissipating. 

“It’s okay, it’s alright.” You’d hold him as tightly as he held you, as if you’d never hold each other again. “You’re safe; I’m safe. We’re okay.” These were the only times Jacob revealed just how hard the recent event had hit him, preferring to lock it away and pretending it wasn’t there instead of facing it for what it is.

Slowly, he’d recover.

Slowly, he’d heal.

Slowly, everything will return to normal.

[justjeonday]

Solace | kim namjoon

Solace; comfort or consolation in a time of great distress or sadness.

- pairing: kim namjoon x reader

- genre: angst, fluff

- word count: 4,400

- warnings: reader fears what the future holds, very brief mentions of anxiety, includes descriptions of feelings/behaviour that might be associated with mild depression (the reader is only stuck in a rut in this fic and it’s nowhere near as critical as depression, but I still wanna be safe and warn about this in case it might be triggering for someone!)

- rating: PG

- notes: I’m excited to finally post on here again! I’ve had this idea for a while, but I haven’t had the time to work on it until now. I think I like how it turned out??  I’m not sure yet lol. I’ve been working on a few fics over the past few weeks, but I keep getting stuck and this is the only thing I’ve managed to finish since I last posted. Since I have a little more free time, due to the quarantine, I’ll hopefully be able to post some more soon! But for now, I hope you’ll enjoy reading this - thank you for all your support! <33 (this is still not completely edited btw so I apologize for any mistakes you might find)

- inspired by: this vlive.

- song: Solace by mell-ø & Ambulo

You stare blankly at the screen in front of you, eyes heavy and mind dull as the seconds count down for the next episode to start playing. This is all you’ve done since waking up, binge-watching some random kdrama you found online. It’s not great, and you’re not focused - but you figure it’s enough to keep you occupied for at least a few more hours. Enough to push most of your gloomy thoughts to the back of your mind.

You feel exhausted, the past four days mostly consisting of work and very few hours of sleep - plus added pressure and stress of having to keep up with studying during it all. Your arms ache from serving and cleaning up tables until late after midnight. After finishing up and closing the place, you’d go straight home to sleep - not having the energy to care for yourself. Then you’d wake up at noon, and have some breakfast before yet again making your way to work. Many people this time of year, during spring break, take vacations with their families so your boss needed you to put in more effort than usual to keep it all running smoothly. You’re grateful for the opportunity to make some extra money, but at this point it feels like you’re doing too much and your body isn’t willing to keep up anymore.

You feel overwhelmed - lost. Are your efforts even worth it when they’re not going towards something you want in the future? Thoughts like these have been weighing you down ever since you woke up, and you had decided it’d be best for you to call in sick and just be sad today. You had moved from the bed to your sofa, and here you’ve been laying ever since then. All the blinds in your apartment are down, no hint of sunlight peeking through - no trace of hope seeping in, no light capable of bringing color to your sombre day. 

You sigh as another episode starts playing, mind brought to the small recap that’s starts playing across the display. You try your best to pay attention to it in hopes of you actually starting to like it so that watching it won’t be so boring. You pull your covers up to your chin, basking in the scent of your boyfriend’s cologne stuck to his shirt you’re snuggled up in. It brings you comfort, soothes you and calms you - it makes you feel secure where you are.

You breathe it in, the longing feeling to hold your boyfriend intensifying as you do.

A sudden chime makes you jump slightly, eyes landing on the door as you sit up  - heart beating quickly in response to the unforeseen ringing disturbing the calm atmosphere in your apartment. You dread leaving the comfort you’re sofa is bringing you, but you feel impolite leaving whoever it is waiting. So you get up and mope over to the door, your body feeling heavier than usual, as if a force is pulling you to the ground.

With lethargy still clinging to you, you don’t bother looking through the peephole before unlocking and pulling the door open - wanting to get it over with and get back to hiding under your covers. Your eyes squint slightly at the sudden light leaking in from the hallway, but you instantly recognize the tall figure stood in front of you.

“Joon?” You gasp quietly, heart skipping a beat in surprise. 

His lips stretch into a smile, arms reaching out and inviting you into his embrace. Immediately you walk towards him, wrapping your own arms around his neck as his end up around your waist to pull you against him. You smile, face laying in the crook of his neck.

“Hi, baby,” He mumbles, a smile evident in his voice as he presses kisses against the exposed skin on your shoulder that’s peeking out through the collar of Namjoon’s oversized shirt you’re clad in.

“I missed you so much,” You say against his skin, voice strained from not uttering a word all day. You enjoy the presence of your boyfriend for a few more seconds before pulling away to look at him, “I thought you’d be gone until next week?” You utter, confused.

“Plans got cancelled,” He whispers, leaning forward to plant a kiss onto your nose - causing you to scrunch it as he does.

You smile in content as you look at him, eyes scanning over his face before unavoidably landing on the pink of his lips. You reach up and press your own lips against the corner of his mouth, before you change target and kiss him - your eyes fluttering close as you cherish the feeling of them against yours again. He kisses you back and you taste the rose lip balm coating his lips, the one he always has with him in his pocket. It makes you smile into the kiss and pull away, suddenly turning shy as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. You hide by his neck again, lips brushing over the mole just under his jaw.

You feel his chest vibrate against yours lightly as he chuckles at you, arms squeezing tighter around your waist. Your fingers start playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s been growing it out for a few months now and the mullet is now very apparent - even more so than when he left. He dyed his hair a beautiful lilac shade not too long ago, and you love the way it looks on him. Nothing beats his natural dark brown hair, but somehow he manages to make every hair color look just as good and at this point you just can’t decide which one’s your favorite. He’s making it very difficult for you.

You walk backwards, making Namjoon follow you as you’re still secure in his arms. Once back in the darkness of your apartment you kick the door shut. You give your boyfriend a peck on the cheek before you pull away from him, letting him get comfortable and take off his shoes as you return to your sofa.

Namjoon, now that he’s able to focus on his surroundings, takes instant notice to the darkness that suffocates your apartment - and the messy sofa. If anyone knows you well, it’s him. After knowing each other for almost two years, he can read you like an open book without problem. One of the many things he’s come to learn is how much you hate wasting the light of day, and especially so during this time of year. You love spring, it’s your favorite time of the year and you always long for it whenever it isn’t current. He also knows that, if you’re not up and getting ready by 9 AM, you’ll most likely beat yourself up for it. However, on rare occasions, you’ll let yourself lay under the covers for another hour or so - but that's only if he’s there, laying next to you

Cuddling is something you simply can’t say no to.

Automatically, taking all these things into consideration, Namjoon starts to worry.

He kicks his sneakers off as his gaze follows you, watching as you fall down on the couch of which looks like it has been occupied all day. Your figure disappears under the cover, and he makes his way over to you. “Is everything alright?” He asks, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

You register his question but you don’t answer it, instead you reach your arms out and gesture for him to join you on the couch. His features soften and he manages to squeeze down next to you, despite the small space left to be occupied. Your leg comes out from under the covers to lay over his hip, holding him close to prevent him from falling to the floor.

You let your eyes shamelessly admire his face even though he’s aware, your fingers once again coming up to brush through his hair - strands of lavender running softly in between them as you do.

He lets his own gaze roam across your features, searching for any sign of anxiety or sorrow. “Hey,” he says, bringing your attention back to his previously asked question.

“Everything’s fine now that you’re here, don’t worry Joon,” you mumble, your focus still on his hair.

Namjoon doesn’t fall for your excuse. Grabbing your wrist softly, he removes your hand out of his hair and lays it over his chest, making you look at him. “Please talk to me.”

You sigh, avoiding his gaze as you attempt to sugarcoat what’s really going on. “Work’s just been really tough, it’s not that serious.”

You always feel bad complaining about work, or sharing the weight of your problems with Namjoon. You know how tough his job is compared to yours, and his schedule is never really empty. You know he loves what he does more than everything, but you’ve seen how hard it can get as well. So compared to your job, you realize the hours you put in are minimal next to the amount of time he dedicates to his job. Complaining just doesn’t feel right.

“You really underestimate me,” He sighs, eyebrows raised at you. “I can tell it’s not just work, it’s almost five in the afternoon and you’re still laying on the couch with my shirt on - you only do that when you’re feeling really low.”

You give up, accepting the fact he can see right through you no matter how hard you resist to let it show. “My head just feels kind of crowded,” you start. “I feel like there’s so many thoughts in my head, and I can’t organize or figure any of them out. I feel lost, I have no idea what the future holds and that’s fine - but I don’t even have a vision of what I want it to hold. I’m just not sure I’m walking down the right path.”

With Namjoon being back next to you, you certainly feel better - but still, it doesn’t remove any of your worries. You wait for a response, but a few seconds go by and there's still just silence. You look up to meet your boyfriend’s gaze, his eyes showing empathy as he looks back at you.

Without a word, he slips out of your embrace before he gets up and walks over to your windows. Before you know it, he pulls one of your blinds up. The sun shines straight in your face, making you quickly seek cover under the pillow next to you. As you hide, you hear Namjoon proceed to pull every blind up, the room becoming even brighter as he does. After he’s done you hear his footsteps close in on you, and suddenly he rids you of your shield - leaving you exposed to the blinding rays of light that are now touching every possible surface in your living room. Your hands come up to cover your eyes, groaning. 

He gathers all your blankets and pillows you’ve taken from your bedroom before disappearing to put them back where they belong. Even with the low state you're in, you feel appreciation and adoration causing tickles in your belly. He always does this, always makes it his priority to bring you up when you're down. You find it endearing, how dedicated he gets - and lucky to say the least.

“What are you doing?” You ask out into the open, Namjoon still fixing your bed in the other room.

“I’m taking you somewhere,” says your boyfriend, walking into the room again.

You furrow your eyebrows, eyes finally adjusting to the light as you stretch - limbs splayed across the couch. “And where may that be, Mr. I’m On A Mission?” 

He snickers at the name, reaching his hand out for you to take. “You’ll find out once we get there.” He pulls you up from the sofa, making you stand before him. “Go put something warm on, the sun’s really nice but it’s still quite chilly,” he says.

Your heart flutters at his sweet gestures. Having been with Namjoon for such a long time, you’d expect the flutters to fade and his gestures losing impact along with them. But it’s all still there, just like when you first fell for him. Your heart still flutters at the dimples in which appear when he smiles, and at how his eyes turn into crescent moons as he laughs - how he shows affection but then becomes shy after. You’ve realized it’s those small things you usually wouldn’t think to pay attention to, but to you they all still cause butterflies to swarm in the pit of your stomach, and you swear you fall in love with him over and over again every time.

You still feel a force pulling you to the ground as you make your way to your closet, but not as intense as it was before Namjoon showed up at your doorstep. You’re still having to push thoughts back, still have to prevent them from getting the best of you. Knowing you have Namjoon with you, and knowing he’ll listen if you’ll talk about it, does bring you comfort. You’re well aware he isn’t capable of helping rid of these thoughts in your head, as he can’t assure you what the future holds or what path you should go down so it all works out - no one can. But still, you’re more than grateful because you’re certain he’ll be the one to at least make you feel better about things, and keep you from giving up.

You grab a lounge set from your drawer and slip onto it, the soft fabric fitting loosely over your body just like how you want it - only really seeking for comfort. Taking Namjoon’s words into consideration, you also make sure to grab a warm coat from your closet before heading back to the living room.

You find your boyfriend sitting on the edge of the couch with rays of light reaching him, a golden aura forming around his figure, making him look like a fallen angel from heaven. And thinking about it, you’re convinced he is one. Where would you be without him? 

You take a moment to enjoy the magical sight, your fingertips starting to tingle as you get an urge to skim them over his beautiful golden skin. Namjoon looks up, catching you as you eye him with a small smile on your lips.

He chuckles. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you mumble, walking up to him.

He stands up, arms capturing you in a hug once again. Your cheek ends up pressed against the soft fabric of his sweater, the scent of his favorite cologne stuck to it, making you breathe it in and relax against him.  

“You look cozy,” he comments, pulling away to look you up and down.

You mumble a quiet thank you, your hands finding his and intertwining your fingers.

“Ready?” He asks.

Your nod doesn’t come off too assuring, making him laugh as the both of you slip your shoes on. Namjoon grabs his coat and with that you make your way out of your apartment, your hands interlocking again as you do. You exit your apartment complex and brisk air surrounds you, causing you to shudder and walk closer to Namjoon as you search for any source of warmth. The two of you stop at the side of the curb as your eyes search for your cab that has yet to arrive, the sun now hitting you and warming you up slightly.

As you wait you turn to eye your boyfriend, love swelling in your chest.

“You look really handsome today,” You say through a smile, eyes meeting his.

You hadn’t seen him in this particular outfit before, but he pulls it off really well. He’s clad in a denim on denim outfit, with a jean coat that reaches all the way to his calves. You’re not surprised it looks amazing on him, everything does.

“Thank you,” he says, cheeks rubescent as his eyes scan over his own body before looking at you and squeezing your hand in his.

You lean into him, nose scrunching at his adorable shy behaviour. Getting the sudden urge to peck him, you get up on your toes and press your lips to the dimple that dents his cheek. He pulls you into his side, hand laying on your hip. As you pull away your attention turns to the black car pulling up in front of you. Namjoon steps forward and opens the door and beckons for you to get in before him, being the gentleman that he is. You climb into the car, moving over so your boyfriend can get in next to you. He sits down and closes the door before reaching into his pocket and grabbing his phone, leaning over to show the driver where he wants to go. Gazing over, you try to catch a glimpse of anything that might reveal what location you’re going to but you manage to get nothing.

“No peeking, baby,” He teases as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

You pout, giving him pleading eyes.

He laughs, his hand coming to lay just above your knee before squeezing lightly. “Be patient.”

You let out a chuckle at your own childish behaviour, laying your hands on top of his before turning to look out at the surroundings as they flash by in a blur. As the driver takes you through Seoul, you find your mind wandering again as thoughts start filling your head. To distract yourself you turn to your boyfriend and ask him about his recent work trip.

Before you know it, the car comes to a stop and with cheeks still aching from a joke Namjoon whispered to you just seconds ago you watch him get out of the car. He holds the door open for you, a grin still on his face as you get out - the adorable indents in his cheeks once again appearing. You always get an urge to kiss them, but if you’d act on it every time that’s all you’d do.

Once you’re out of the car, you glance at the scenery of which you’re very familiar with, and which you’ve come to love and appreciate since being with Namjoon. One thing you learned very early on about him is how much he loves and treasures nature. You didn’t really see the point before, especially since you live in such a big city you don’t really think of it that much. On your own, before meeting him, you’d never think to go to a park just to relax. But now you’ve really learned to appreciate it and the healing powers it holds, something Namjoon also taught you.

“You took me to Hangang Park?” You say, a tinge of excitement in your voice as your eyes take in the beautiful view of the setting sun reflecting in the river.

Namjoon looks at you lovingly as you view the location. Hangang park isn’t away from any civilization, there’s still skyscrapers in view and it’s crowded. It’s not what you consider a traditional park, there’s not grass everywhere you look or trees surrounding you. There are platforms in stone and bigger patches of grass scattered around evenly. Even though it might not be the most green park, something about it brings you more comfort than others do. You think it might be the combination of city and nature, since you’ve lived in Seoul your whole life you’re used to tall buildings and city lights - all that comes with it. And with what Namjoon has taught you about nature, and how you’ve become someone who appreciates that setting as well, you really feel at home when you’re at Hangang Park. 

You said this to your boyfriend when you came here with him for the first time, and that’s probably his reason for choosing this specific location. It makes you feel warm inside, happy he takes all these things and uses them to make you feel relaxed and calm when you need it.

Namjoon comes up behind you and lays a hand over the small of your back, the two of you starting to walk slowly closer to the river. The sunset induces beautiful hues of orange and pink to paint over the blue sky, making the world around you breathtakingly beautiful. You feel some of the weight slowly ease off of your shoulders, and you feel as if you’re finally able to inhale and exhale deeply with ease. The both of you walk over to one of the grass-patches by the river, sitting down on it with shoulders touching and fingers intertwined.

You sit like that in silence for a few minutes, and you sense Namjoon knows you need to just be for a while. You enjoy the feeling of him next to you, his presence as the both of you watch the sky and its reflection in the body of water before you. Surrounding you, there are groups of friends, couples, families, also enjoying the wonderful time of day. The atmosphere around you is happy and tranquil, in contrast to your dark apartment you’d locked yourself in earlier.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumble, laying your head on Namjoon’s shoulder as you watch the hues of the horizon fade into the light blue above you.

A few more minutes of comfortable silence pass by, before he brings his attention to you.

He brings your interlocked hands up to plant a kiss on your knuckles. “Let it out.”

You look up at him, your response lazy, “Hmm?”

“Whatever you’re holding in, whatever’s bothering you. It won’t do any good for you to keep it in.”

You exhale, resting your head against his shoulder again as your eyes return to the skyline. “I’m feeling overwhelmed, and every thought that has entered my mind I’ve been overthinking for no reason. I feel like I’ve gone down this path that I’m now stuck on and I can’t see any lanes or exits for me to lead me in another direction. There’s so many outcomes that could occur if, when the opportunity comes, I choose to walk another way - so many things that could go wrong.” You stop, fingers of your free hand coming to fiddle with the cool metal of his rings as you think of what to say next. “I feel like I’m putting in a lot of effort to do good at work and with studying, but it doesn’t feel worth it when I’m not sure the hard work I’m putting in is doing anything for my future.” You look down at your hands as you feel the familiar lump of anxiety form in the back of your throat.

“It’s normal to have thoughts, and to overthink them. I’ve been where you are right now, and I get you. It’s normal to worry about the future, everyone does - because it’s full of uncertainty and you can never really know what to expect or what it’ll turn into as time passes.” He pauses, and his words bring you comfort - knowing you’re not completely alone in feeling like this. “Someone told me once to think of my mind as a tree, and of my thoughts as branches. For these branches to grow, you’ll have to experience a lot of different things - hurtful things, things that’ll anger and confuse you along with happy and hopeful things. Your mind consists of so many of these branches, there’s happiness, pain, hope, desperation, devastation - everything.” He speaks, hand coming up from time to time in front of him to gesticulate.

You listen carefully to his words as your eyes follow pastel clouds that float across the sky. You’ve always loved how self-aware Namjoon is, you’ve come to think of it as one of his most beautiful traits - one that you really adore. He’s always stayed true to himself, no matter what. He recognizes his mistakes and faults so that he can better them and become someone who’s greater than the person he was the day before. You wish you can be that one day, as good of a person as he is. He always tries to be the best version of himself.

“You’ll need to prune and cut them to take care of the tree, to care for your mind and for it to keep growing beautifully. The hurt will be unavoidable, but you’ll have to make these choices so you can continue to grow and blossom. These thoughts and feelings you’re currently feeling, try to think of them as branches of your young days, as branches of a young tree. When you’ve experienced all of the hurt, the grief, the happiness, the love - you’ll be a beautiful tree, the most beautiful tree.” He says. “I know you’ll be,” He turns to search for your gaze, wanting you to see and notice the sincerity of his words.

Your eyes meet his, inside of which sunsets of their own exist as the sky reflects in them. You feel the force that’s been pulling you down fade, and you feel yourself tearing up as you look at the man in front of you, whom you cherish most out of anything. You realize how blessed you are to have met someone like him, someone with a precious soul like his own.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling yourself starting to tear up.

Slightly embarrassed, you look away but you feel Namjoon’s finger nudge lightly at the underside of your chin - making your eyes meet his again. “No need to thank me baby,” He says softly, wiping your a few tears that escaped with the pads of his thumbs “I just want you to be okay, that’s all that matters.”

The love you feel for him spreads like a wildfire through your body. “I love you so much,” you say, eyes still looking into his.

A smile grows on his lips as he looks at you. “Come here,” he mumbles, hand reaching to the backside of your thigh.

He pulls your leg over both of his, so that you end up straddling his thighs before his arms snake around your waist to pull you into him. You embrace him by putting your arms around his neck and pressing your cheek against his. With your body now filled with relief and comfort, you find yourself wishing you could stay like this forever - keep him this close forever.

“I love you too,” He whispers in your ear.

The future remains a mystery, something you’ll never be sure of.

But in this moment, what you’re completely certain of, is your everlasting love for the man in your arms.

He’s your everything.

He’s your start and your end.

He’s your Solace.

[lemonietrinket]

Breakfast in Bed ||| Wonpil x Reader

Summary: Making breakfast in bed for your bf on his birthday Genre: Fluff, you know the drill Warning(s): jam None  Word Count: 1558  Theme Song: Red - The Rose AN: Happy Birthday Pillie! A request/idea from @idontknowapil and now a birthday present for the brightest angel that has ever existed. Married AU bc why not

~~~

You rubbed your eyes as you placed the knife safely in a mug by the sink, taking in the sight of your handiwork.

The toast heart was a little bit lopsided you had to admit, but you’d managed to get the jam to the correct thickness and the sides decorated to perfection. Still, your work wasn’t over. 

Feeling the pride giving you a boost of energy boost against the drain of having gotten up so early, you placed the mango and raspberry squash on the tray before lifting it carefully. 

Taking the stairs slowly, you eventually reached the top without a single drop spilt much to your satisfaction.  Easing your shared bedroom’s door open with your foot, you reentered the safe haven that had taken you so much effort to drag yourself from. A smile arose to your features as soon as you spotted the precious man that all your hard work was done for. He was still fast asleep, one arm stretched up onto the pillow with the other having remained where it had been as he cradled you during the night.

He was so adorable that it made your heart flutter, his naturally wavier hair uncaged by the straighteners he insisting on using and left free to curl over his forehead. His features seemed to be lightly furrowed, as if his dream required him to think, and it pouted his lips so sweetly. 

It took a lot of effort not to just abandon everything you’d made to join him beneath the covers once again. Still, you knew his face would be a piece of art when he woke up to see the breakfast you had prepared for him, so you stuck with the plan. 

Tiptoeing over to the bed, you placed the tray where you had sprawled so the chances of him knocking it were slim, before returning to his side.  Leaning over so you could get a better view of the beauty before you, you drew your fingers gently over his temple. Shifting a lock of hair from his skin, you pressed a kiss softly there. He was frankly irresistible, and you found yourself ducking in to plant another on his exposed cheek—the other smushed into the pillow. 

He huffed cutely in his sleep which led you to giggle; he was coming away from the world of dreams but he wasn’t quite out yet. Flicking a glance to the toast that was inevitably enjoyed much more warm, you realised it would take some more drastic measures to pull him from his slumber in time for breakfast.

Pulling the duvet the slightest bit away from his chin you nestled his jaw in the palm of your hand, tracing your thumb across the apple of his cheek. 

“Wonpil, sweetheart,” you sang tenderly, “time for breakfast.”

After receiving a scrunch of his nose as proof that your tactic was working, you let yourself chuckle at how cute he was. Giving into the temptation, you placed another kiss this time upon his nose.  This elicited a hum and before you knew it, your husband—too adorable to be true—was dozily opening his eyes.

“Good morning,” you greeted, his hand leaving the pillow and rubbing his cheeks and eyes into a further state of awake. 

“Morning,” he reciprocated with a voice gravelly from sleep, as he used most of the energy he had to lift himself ever so slightly, just so he could kiss your nose in return. It was weak, but you knew it was a precursor of what was to come. 

Making more of a gap so he could begin to breathe some cool air and awake further, you smiled at him sunnily. “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

That seemed to pry him open a bit more. “Oh!” 

He began to shift himself up in bed, ready to get out after seeing the joy in your eyes and quickly rationalising you had a plan. He was confused, then, when you pressed your hand to his chest and encouraged him to merely lay back against the headboard. 

“Get yourself comfortable,” you said with a wink, as you levied the tray across into both your hands, “because you have a special treat.”

To say his eyes widened would be an understatement. You were convinced that they had wettened at the image of the breakfast you’d made and brought him. It wasn’t the first time either of you’d had breakfast brought to them in bed, but the level of handiwork this time seemed extra special—even if it was simpler than a few of the other occasions.

“I felt bad that you’d lost out on some toast so I got you some extra bits,” you pointed to the ‘side dishes’, a portion of salad, some toast soldiers coupled with a soft boiled egg.

He looked on the food you’d gotten him with what could only be described as a happy pout. “Thank you so much, this is just so perfect... I love you so much!”

You felt your heart swell, encouraging him to tuck in. “Before it gets cold!”

While he tucked into the heart shaped toast you slipped back into the warmth of the bed beside him, resting your head on his shoulder as you watched him enjoy the mix ‘n’ match breakfast you’d presented to him.

“It tastes so good,” he exclaimed through a slightly-full mouth, unable to hold in his compliments any longer.

“It’s just the usual jam on toast,” you humbly admitted. Not that he would have that.

He shook his head, dusting his fingers off on a napkin you’d found unused from your housewarming party. “No this definitely tastes even better than normal toast.” He let his hand no free of crumbs stroke your hair as he gazed at you, fully awake and bubbly like his normal self. “It’s the taste of love, that’s what it is.”

“Ew, corny,” you scoffed, turning your head away from him to avoid his stare catching the blush that had bloomed upon your cheeks. 

He laughed, dusting off his heart toast and swiftly moving onto his egg.

“This is going to taste more than amazing too,” he announced, ducking down to kiss your head, while you let your eyes rest.

When he got a subdued response—a smile, yes, but with closed eyes—he realised you could easily fall back asleep, and that would not do.

Savouring the first taste of the egg, he brought a soldier of toast and dipped it into the vibrant, runny yoke.

“Y/N, honey, stay with me,” he giggled, running his hand down to your shoulder and rubbing lovingly, “here.”

You opened your eyes to see the tantalising sliver of toast neatly coated with yolk being held towards you. Feeling your stomach rumble out of negligence on your behalf to your own hunger you very nearly didn’t stop yourself from accepting his offer. “Pillie, it’s your breakfast!”

“Yeah, which means I choose where it goes,” he countered smoothly, gasping in faux indignance, “am I not allowed to feed my own wife?”

You pouted, before letting him feed you. He did so with a grin so radiant you were beginning to reckon you were going to need sunglasses to appreciate him in all his glory.  The taste awoke your senses and you savoured the bite, letting the texture seep in and elicit a satisfied groan from you.

“You know what you’re right, this stuff does taste much better,” you backtracked, frowning quizzically at your work.

“Because... love infusion,” he declared in English, fumbling only a bit over the phonetics.

You felt yourself burst into laughter. He was too good for your heart. “I guess so, yeah.”

He continued to feed you slips of toast, and then spoonfuls of the egg itself, and eventually you learnt that there was no point in insisting it was all for him.

Once it was all finished, his drink sipped and not a single sprig of salad remaining, Wonpil reclined back with a sated sigh.

“Best meal ever,” he stated, “Ramsay’s got nothing on you.”

Rolling your eyes with a smile you moved the tray out of the way for him and onto your bedside table, changing the subject as you did so. “So, do you want to see your present?”

His motions to begin retreating beneath the duvets again immediately halted. “This wasn’t my present?”

“One of them yes,” you explained, surprised that he thought you wouldn’t have gotten him anything substantial, “but the proper one is downstairs!”

He reasoned with the suggestion for a moment, before a mischievous glint settled in his eye. “I think I’ll take my second one first.” 

You weren’t given long to be confused, your lips parting to chide him for sinking under the blankets once again, but the chance to speak being taken away as he proceeded to snake his hands around your waist. Having propped yourself up on one elbow when he’d begun to move you slipped to the mattress with a gentle thud as he brought you flush to him.

Creating a cocoon for the two of you, you were finally enveloped in warmth as he grinned victoriously, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Let’s just stay here for a little bit, yeah?” he suggested, caressing your back.

And what could you say—you couldn’t say no to that man in a thousand years. Especially not on his birthday.

~~~

AN: my apologies idk korean breakfasts so we ran with some english stuff hell yeah

btw i hate this title its so basic so if it changes in the future dont be surprised

also fun fact about me:

i hate jam with like every inch of my life so 

Masterlist

[backtobasicbellas]

19 Amy x Hope? (you’re writing is great btw)

amy x hope + “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

word count: 1,906

//

Hope and Amy are not dating.

At least, that’s what Hope tells herself, even if she does get random, cryptic texts from Gigi asking how her favorite girlfriends are doing.

(Hope tells Gigi to fuck off - affectionately, of course.)

It’s not even like they’ve been in the same continent for the past year. After Hope’s backpacking trip, she packed her things from her childhood home and made her way to NYU for her freshman year all while Amy was in Botswana.

Though, Hope did visit her for three days. It was terribly awkward but probably the highlight of Hope’s trip all at the same time. They’re still new at this - whatever this is - and they aren’t sure what to do, almost like they’re hanging in limbo. But Amy is so god damn adorable, and the way she talks about her work as Hope all doe-eyed and soft.

(And yes, they get a re-do of that incident in Nick’s aunt’s bathroom.

It goes much more smoothly.)

But now Amy’s back in the states and starting her first year at Columbia. Columbia as in, the school that’s literally in the same city as Hope. It means many things, but most importantly it means that Amy will be here and not miles and miles away with the only thing keeping them together is texts and e-mails and social media.

And they’ve done a lot of that. Hope has never been one to be glued to her phone, but Amy has a funny way of bending Hope’s will without even knowing it.

“Are you going to see your girlfriend when she gets here?” Annabelle snickers when they grab lunch during her visit.

Hope glares at her. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Annabelle gives her a shit-eating grin. “Keep lying to yourself, dude.”

“Asshole,” Hope scoffs.

“Seriously though,” Annabelle says. “Grow some balls and make her your girlfriend already. I have never seen you go soft for someone the way you do for Amy.”

“Fuck right off.”

“Remind me never to hang out with you again,” Annabelle says dryly, but the tease is evident in her eyes.

So Hope invites Amy to come over to her apartment she just moved into. It takes Hope a whole day and a half to actually text her - who is she anymore? - but Amy agrees almost immediately and they order Chinese takeout and listen to music and watch a couple of episodes of Parks and Rec - Amy’s choice, obviously (though Hope does like the show, secretly) - and it’s all good.

It’s on the third episode of Parks and Rec when Hope can feel Amy’s eyes on her and she turns.

“What?” she asks softly.

Amy blinks, realizing she’s been caught. She bites her lip in the most frustrating of ways to Hope because how does one action manage to be adorable and an absolute turn on at the same time?

“Nothing,” Amy stutters out, looking away for a moment before meeting Hope’s eyes again. “I just missed you.”

Hope’s emotions on the outside may be schooled, but for a moment she forgets how to breathe. She’s been falling over Amy for years, way before senior year, and here she is telling Hope that she missed her. She’s here, in Hope’s apartment, eating Chinese takeout and watching Netflix and there is no other place Hope would rather be.

It’s only natural that Hope gives her the smallest of smiles before she’s leaning in and capturing Amy’s lips against hers.

Later, when they are both naked and underneath the covers, Hope is stroking Amy’s hair as the smaller girl lets out a content sigh.

“Welcome to New York nerd,” Hope murmurs.

“What a welcome,” Amy smiles.

It makes Hope chuckles softly and she’s pulling Amy closer against her, arms wrapped around the other girl’s waist. Amy laughs softly, her forehead pressed against Hope’s shoulder.

As they fall asleep, one thing is clear: Hope is so completely, head over heels in love with Amy.

Which is why, after Hope drives her back to Columbia and kisses her goodbye the next morning, watching as Amy gives her that goofy smile and an awkward wave before walking away, she panics.

“Dude I don’t see what the problem is,” Annabelle says over the phone.

“What do I do?” Hope says in an irritated tone.

“Uh, I don’t know idiot, maybe tell her you’re in love with her?”

“Ugh.”

Annabelle proves useless so Hope hangs up without another word.

The thing is, Hope has never really been one for feeling things. She doesn’t do emotions, doesn’t really care for them.

Or other people.

So it’s clear why Amy is a whole situation she doesn’t think she can deal with.

Essentially, Hope goes ghost.

Amy’s texts go unanswered. The occasional phone call gets sent to voicemail. Hope gives into her schoolwork and film projects and only comes up for air when she’s in bed at night by herself and she still catches a whiff of Amy on her pillow.

It sucks, but Hope’s never been one to mope so she pushes forward and pretends she doesn’t give a shit.

It works for about a week, but then Hope is in the middle of putting a storyboard together when there’s a knock on her door.

Thinking it’s her pizza she ordered, she slides her headphones off and opens the door. It’s not her pizza; it’s Amy.

Even a week away from her has made her even more vivid and beautiful than Hope remembers. Amy stands on the other side of Hope’s door, looking like a mix of nervous and defiant. Hope recognizes it as the same way she looked in the bathroom at Nick’s aunt’s house, the night that started this whole turn of events.

“Amy,” she says, completely taken by surprise.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” Amy says, and her voice is even and not at all shaky and Hope has to admit it’s impressive.

“School,” Hope immediately replies. “I have so many film projects and-”

“Bullshit,” Amy cuts her off, a fire lit up in her eyes. “You went ghost for no reason, Hope.”

Hope looks at her a moment and then sighs. She knows better than to give a bullshit reason. She has always been an honest person, and she’s not going to let her feelings for Amy change that.

“Yeah fine,” she shrugs. “I stopped replying. So what?”

Amy scoffs, her emotions starting to surface as Hope recognizes the frustration and slight anger in her when she says, “You gave no reason! You invited me over, had sex with me, and dropped me off and said nothing. There was no warning!”

“Yeah well, that’s what going ghost means,” Hope tells her, and she can’t help the sarcastic draw in her tone, the way it sounds colder than she wants but it’s too late now.

Amy stares at her for a moment, and Hope knows her words stung. She wants to take it back, to apologize, but before she can even open her mouth to attempt to back track, Amy speaks again.

“So that was your plan then?” Amy asks, growing angrier with each sentence. “Was your plan? To -what, screw me one more time before you just never talked to me again?”

“Amy-” Hope tries, but it’s clear the smaller girl is not having it from her.

“I thought you were better than that, Hope,” she says, and the emotions are starting to boil over. Hope can tell because her voice starts to shake, but it’s clear Amy will not stop and let herself cry.

“The whole time I was in Botswana, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All I wanted to do was talk to you all the time. And i thought, with how we were, you wanted the same. I wanted you, Hope. I want you. You don’t know how badly I wanted to see you. And then I get here, and we have literally one of the best nights of my life, and then you pull this shit?”

Amy scoffs.

“I thought you were a bitch in high school, but this is a knew low.”

The way Amy is looking at her makes Hope feel like an absolute piece of shit. It’s clear she is no longer the same meek, mild-tempered Amy she used to be. Hope had expected her to just let it go, to be too afraid to talk about it, too afraid to piss off Hope.

She’d gotten it all wrong.

Amy breathes heavily, her eyes never leaving Hope’s. There’s a palpable tension between them now, Hope can feel it. It’s making her anxious.

“You wanna know why I ghosted you?” she asks, voice level.

“Yes,” Amy replies immediately.

Hope braces herself; she’s never been good with emotions, but she’ll try for Amy.

Amy, who literally showed up at her apartment to yell at her and tell her off.

“I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.”

She says it in a quieter voice, much quieter than Amy and quieter than she’d just been. Her own voice breaks just a little, and though Hope knows she won’t cry, it’s a new level of vulnerability for her.

The confession stuns Amy, whose expression goes from angry to jaw slacked, blinking like an owl at Hope.

“W-what?” Amy asks, unsure if she’s heard right.

Hope shakes her head. “I’ve never been good at emotions, Amy - don’t know if I ever will be. So the fact I’m in love with you is absolutely terrifying. What am I - what am I supposed to do?”

“You could have talked to me,” Amy offers, voice softer now.

Hope scoffs, shaking her head. “You know how I am. And, we haven’t really been together. You were in Botswana for a whole year. I didn’t want to like, scare you off or something.”

A smile cracks on Amy’s face as she takes a step closer to Hope.

“You and your big, bad persona haven’t scared me yet,” Amy tells her.

Hope tries not to smile. She’s unsure what to do with herself now, having just put herself out there like that. She tries not to think about how Amy hasn’t said it back yet.

“Well that’s good to know,” Hope deadpans, giving an uncomfortable chuckle.

Amy is full out grinning now, eyes lit up in a way Hope doesn’t understand just yet. It makes Hope uncomfortable, the way Amy isn’t revealing all her cards.

“So,” Hope clears her throat. “Is there um, anything else you need or-”

“You ghosted me because you’re in love with me,” Amy repeats, that grin still on her face.

Hope tries not to cringe at the statement; she hates being the vulnerable one here.

“Yes we established that,” Hope confirms. “Can we really just not do-”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because Amy is tugging her down and meeting her lips for a soft kiss. It’s nothing spectacular, but Hope would be lying if she said she hasn’t been thinking about kissing Amy for the past week.

Amy pulls away after only a moment and says with a smile, “I think I’m in love with you too.”

Hope doesn’t stop the dumb smile on her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Hope hums before she’s tugging Amy into her apartment and shutting the door.

Amy laughs before she’s being kissed senseless by Hope.

[jedifighterpilot2727]

The Rook Chapter 3

Alright, y'all, here it is! The grand finale!! (Though there may be an epilogue!)

I hope you enjoy!! (btw, comments and asks are my absolute life!)

The song for this is 'i hate u, i love u' by gnash ft. Olivia O'brien 

Oh, by the way, I sobbed writing this, so tissues are recommended.

        I Hate You (But I Love You)

She wakes on her office couch, the now empty bottle of Scotch beside her reminding her that her pounding head is her own fault. She refuses to open her eyes, even though the curtains are drawn and the room should be mostly dark.

She just wants to not think, about Kara, about Supergirl, about how stupid she was for not realizing that the woman she was in love with was hiding  a whole identity from her.

So, she lays there, pondering how long she can put off getting up before someone interrupts her relative peace.

Turns out the answer is about five minutes before the door to her office swings open.

“Come on, up and at ‘em. Early bird gets the worm, yada yada yada.”

“Ugh, Jess, no.” Even behind her closed eyelids, she can tell when Jess flips the light on and she groans, throwing her arm over her eyes.

“Nope, none of that! Come on, busy day ahead.”

Lena groans again but complies, shifting into a sitting position and blinking until her eyes adjust enough that she can see the aspirin and bottle of gatorade that Jess is holding out for her. She takes them gratefully, swallowing the pills and following them with a long, slow sip of the neon colored drink.

“Gotta say, boss, the drunk on a work night look does not work on you.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good, cause we have a lot to do today.” She thrusts a small bag in Lena’s direction. “Here are some toiletries, there’s a dress that just came from back from dry cleaning in your closet, oh and be sure to wear some sunglasses to cover those bags under your eyes - I called the press so there’s going to be photographers.”

Lena looks up, pressing the cool bottle of gatorade to her forehead.

“Photographers? For what?”

“Oh, right, sorry, the plane for Metropolis leaves in . . . “ Jess checks her watch. “Two hours.”

“Metropolis? I’m not going to Metropolis!”

“Yes, you are, in two hours; so chop chop.”

“Jess, what are you doing?”

Much to her surprise, her assistant kneels down so she's at eye level.

“Look, Lena, you pay me a lot of money to know . . . well, everything. And we may not exactly be friends, but I care about you, and for the past few weeks you’ve been really . . . not yourself. And I’m not going to mention any names, but we both know why. You need some space, and you’re going to get it. For a month. In Metropolis.”

“A month?!”

“And, speaking of she who shall not be named, there’s quite a list of things that you’ve been meaning to do in Metropolis that you’ve been putting off because you didn’t want to leave her. Now is the perfect time to tie up all those loose ends. Plus, my mom has been begging me to come visit, so it works out great. Three birds, one stone.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Of course, dummy, who else is going to keep you straight!” Jess frowns. “Well, not straight, cause you like the ladies, but you know what I mean. Now come on, we gotta go.”

Jess turns for the door, and Lena watches her, stunned for a moment before calling out.

“Hey, Jess?” she waits for Jess to look back at her before continuing. “Thanks.”

“No problem, boss. Oh, and you might wanna put your hair in a bun today, it looks kinda -“ She trails off, her hands making some sort of jazz hands gesture around her head that makes Lena laugh.

“Yeah, of course. Oh and Jess? Can you make sure the plane has some hashbrowns for the ride? Preferably smothered in gravy."

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Long story short, Jess is a genius.

For starters, the photos of Lena leaving her office and getting into the SUV for the airport are stunning. She looks hot, by any standard, regardless of the fact that the sunglasses covering her face are hiding blood shot eyes and there’s a gatorade and saltine crackers tucked into her purse. All that matters is that her wine colored dress has a plunging neckline and her matching lipstick is one of Kara’s favorite shades.

It doesn’t matter that she almost breaks down on the short ride to the airport, because the Page Six spread makes her look like she’s fine.

It’s a sort of evil satisfaction, knowing that Kara will see the photos and wonder why she’s so put together.

She only wishes she really was that put together, and that her heart didn’t feel like it was shattering into a million pieces as she watches National City fade from view out the plane window.

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Metropolis is . . . refreshing.

She doesn’t see Kara in her mind’s eye every time she walks down the street or steps into a restaurant. Everywhere isn’t tainted with the memory of the best friend she thought she knew like National City is. After a few days, she can actually breathe, she can actually exist for longer than an hour without thinking of Kara’s smile.

She works pretty much from the time her eyes open until the time she falls asleep; but the exhaustion is welcome. Jess was right, she did have a lot of things to take care of in Metropolis, which is why she’s surprised when Jess leaves a break in her schedule on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Jess?” She calls over the intercom. “What am I doing from 3-4?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to pencil it in. You have an appointment with Dr. Fowler.”

Lena frowns.

“A doctor’s appointment? It’s not time for my yearly.”

“Dr. Fowler is a psychiatrist.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, I scheduled you an appointment with her, thought it might help with your . . .  girl problems.”

“Jess, I don’t need a psychiatrist.”

“Ok, boss, noted. but it’s already booked and paid for, so you might as well go this first time.”

Unfortunately, Lena can’t find the logic to argue with her.

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She sits on the comfortable chair in Dr. Fowler’s office, staring down the woman across from her.

She seems, nice, for a psychiatrist.

Her shoulder length brown hair is tucked behind her ears, and her gray suit is non-threatening. She has a kind face, Lena thinks, unable to think of anything negative. Still, she refuses to cave, and fixes her eyes on the clock above Dr. Fowler’s head.

“My assistant made me this appointment.” She says for explanation. “I don’t really need therapy, so I’m sorry to waste your time.”

“I don’t mind.” Dr, Fowler smiles. “We can always just talk. No therapy needed. Are you from Metropolis?”

Lena debates answering her, but common manners win out.

“Well, mother was from Ireland, originally, but that’s . . . “

“A story for a therapist.” Dr. Fowler guesses, and Lena nods.

“That’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it. What brings you to Metropolis? Business? Pleasure?”

“Business.” Lena answers immediately, but guilt creeps up her spine, and she adjusts her answer. “Well, sort of. I live in National City, but . . . well, my assistant thought I could use a break from some people there so she scheduled me some time away. L-Corp has offices in both cities, so it’s convenient.”

“Ah, L-Corp. I remember when you opened up a branch in National City. I thought you were just supposed to stay there for a few months to make sure that everything was going smoothly, what made you change your mind?”

Lena hesitates, unwilling to share more than she has to, but still, she is paying for this; she might as well see what crazy advice this sham has to offer.

“I met someone.” She explains. “A friend.”

“A friend?”

“Well, sort of.”

“Sort of? Do I sense gay drama?” Dr. Fowler’s eyes sparkle, and Lena’s gaze catches on a picture of Dr. Fowler with her arm around another woman, a yellow lab sitting in front of them.

Of course Jess would do her research.

“She’s like . . . sunshine personified.” Lena offers as explanation. “Or at least, she was. Now, I don’t know what she is.”

Dr. Fowler shifts in her chair.

“What’s changed?”

“She . . .” Lena hesitates, reluctant to rehash her heart break. “She lied; about who she is. It turns out that she has this whole other persona that she just . . . hid from me. And you know what the worst part is?” She laughs mirthlessly. “I was friends with the other persona! and she just lied to me! Over and over again! Like I’m some kind of fool! Because I’m the idiot who can’t figure out that Kara Danvers is Supergirl!”

Her eyes flash to Dr. Fowler at her accidental revelation, but the other woman just smiles.

“Everything you say here is confidential. The secret is safe with me.”

Lena nods softly, but it seems that once the dam is broken the flow of her words can’t be stopped.

“She lied to me. For three years! I had to learn the truth from my dying brother! And then when she finally got the guts to tell me, do you know what she said?”

Dr. Fowler shakes her head.

“She said she loved me. That she wanted us to be together. Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that?!”

“For three years?” Dr. Fowler offers, and Lena chokes back a sob.

“I’ve been in love with her for so long! And she was just oblivious. I guess like I was oblivious about her being Supergirl. But then she just tells me that she loves me. In the same conversation that she tells me the truth.”

“I’m sure that must have been devastating.” Dr. Fowler comments quietly, and Lena sets her jaw.

“I don’t know how I feel about her anymore. I don’t know if I can trust her.”

“That’s fair, you deserve to feel that way.”

Something in Lena settles at that. Up until now, she’s been berating herself for her anger. Like she was wrong for thinking bad of the great Supergirl. But now, she feels validated.

“I bought a whole company for her, you know. . . “

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The rest of her session with Dr. Fowler is cathartic, if only because she can finally air out feelings without fear of judgment, with someone who gives her constructive feedback.

On her way out, she checks in with the receptionist.

“Jess scheduled you for two sessions a week, your next appointment is Thursday at 2. Is that okay?”'

Lena can’t help but roll her eyes. She definitely owes Jess another raise.

“Sounds perfect.”

* - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s surprisingly hard for her to fall into her post Kara routine. More often than not, she finds herself looking for her best friend in her downtime.

Kara’s presence has become a staple in her life, and she can’t help but mourn the loss.

Even though she knows whatever dream she had of them is lost.

It’s infuriating.

The one time she gets attached to someone,  it backfires.

Dr. Fowler says that she has ‘abandonment issues’, but she doesn’t feel abandoned, just. . . lost.

Kara Danvers was her reason for existing for so long. The drive behind every decision she made.

She just wanted Kara to be happy, but it turns out that Kara is a completely different person than she thought.

Dr. Fowler challenges her, asks her how she feels about Supergirl, separate from Kara.

And honestly, she doesn’t know.

At first she felt like she had to like Supergirl, if only to combat her brother’s dangerous rhetoric with Superman.

But then . . . Supergirl was nice, and good, and she saved Lena’s life on numerous occasions.

Not to mention she was the most beautiful woman Lena had ever seen, minus Kara, of course.

Kara with her glasses and dorky blunders.

Though she supposes, now that she thinks about it, that those blunders come from less of a place of awkwardness and more from the place of an alien being unsure of earth customs. She finds it endearing, in a way that makes her uncomfortable, and Dr. Fowler smiles softly before letting the subject drop.

The good thing about being in Metropolis is that she doesn’t hear a single news story about Supergirl.

Superman, maybe, but Supergirl is noticeably absent.

It’s refreshing.

So it shocks her even more when she gets a surprise visitor.

“Ms. Luthor, I’m sorry, I tried to stop her, but she’s got a badge, and a gun, and I wasn’t sure if -“

Lena’s eyes settle on none other than Alex Danvers.

“It’s fine, Jess, don’t worry about it. “

Jess looks between them for a long moment before she heads back to her desk.

“Alex.” Lena says once Jess is through the door.

“Lena. Kara told me you know her secret.”

“Ahh, are you here to mock me?”

“Mock you?” Alex brow crinkles in a way that’s so much like Kara it almost hurts. “I’m not here to mock you, I’m here to see if you needed a friend. I know I’m not as close as you and Kara, but I thought I’d at least offer my support.”

“Support?”

Alex sighs heavily.

“Look, ever since I was 14, protecting Kara’s secret identity has been my main goal. My parents entrusted me with it, and . . .  I never really got over it.”

“She never lied to you about her secret identity though.” Lena scoffs.

“No.” Alex concedes. “But I lied to her about mine.”

Lena’s head snaps up, eyeing Alex like she’s the last oracle.

"For four years, I lied to her about my job. I told her I was involved in biomedical engineering, that I was a sales rep for some company when really I worked for the DEO.”

“The Department of Extranormal Operations.” Lena clarifies.

“Exactly, and I didn’t even tell her what I was doing, because I wanted to protect her.”

“That’s still not -“

“I shot her down,” Alex continues. “I shot her down with Kryptonite arrows. Because I didn’t trust anyone else to make the shot. I shot my own sister with the one thing that hurts her, when she thought I was a sales rep.”

“What’s your point, Alex?”

“My point is that sometimes we lie to the people we love because we think it will protect them, even if it ends up hurting them in the end.”

“So you side with her then.” Lena concludes.

“No, I don’t, I . . . look, as Supergirl’s protector, I’m glad she waited to tell you, because the less people who know, the better, it’s not even because you’re a Luthor, it’s just common sense. But as your friend. . . she was wrong not to tell you, and you deserved to know the truth. It’s not always black and white, sometimes good intentions make for bad actualities. I can understand why Kara didn’t tell you, and I can also understand why you’re upset. I’m just saying, sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to, sometimes we lie to the people we love and sometimes we think we know what’s best for them, even when we don't.

“But no matter what happens between you and my sister, just know that you’re still my friend, and I still support you. I know we’re not as close as you and Kara, but I’m here for you; if you need me. “

“You’re here for me?” Lena asks incredulously.

“I’m am, and I’m sorry you got the raw end of the stick. If it were anyone but Kara, I’d go beat her up for you. In fact, I have a red sun room for training, I still can if you really want me to.”

Lena’s voice breaks in a sob, and Alex stares at her strangely.

“Oh god, don’t cry. I don’t know what to do with criers, please don’t.” she holds out her arms and Lena collapses into them. “Do you want a hug? Will a hug help? I can do a hug.” She whispers as rock solid arms close around Lena.

Are both of the Danvers sisters jacked?

“Did you really shoot Kara down with Kryptonite arrows?” Lena hiccups.

“Yeah, I did. One of the biggest regrets of my life. Just like I’m sure not telling you the truth is one of Kara’s.”

“You’re her sister, you’re supposed to say that.”

“Look, maybe I am. But I don’t have to say this - stay mad for a while, she deserves it. But I hope to see you around soon, game night just isn’t the same without you.”

Lena wants to say more, but she doesn’t, letting Alex pull away.

“I couldn’t tell you the truth, because I’ve been protecting Kara since she was 13 years old. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve to know the truth.”

“Easy for you to say. You were in on the secret.”

“I was.” Alex concedes. “And now you are too, what are you going to do with it?”

Lena doesn’t answer, and Alex backs away.

“I have to get back to National City, but call me when you come home, ok?”

Lena nods, even though she’s unsure of the details of her returning to National City.

She feels the warmth of Alex’s hug long after the other woman is gone.

* - - — - - - - - - - -

She stays in Metropolis for a month and a half, a fact she’s sure Jess and Dr. Fowler are conspiring together towards.

She can’t deny that she feels exceptionally better on the plane ride to National City than she did on her trip to Metropolis.

She hates to admit it, but therapy really has helped her, and she has Dr. Fowler’s number stored in her phone and ready for face time sessions.

She doesn’t exactly forgive Kara, but she maybe understands where she was coming from - even if she doesn’t agree with it.

Still, she doesn’t expect what she finds when she comes back to National City.

Supergirl is no where to be found.

According to all reports that she can find, Supergirl disappeared two weeks after she did. It makes sense, she supposes, but what she doesn’t understand is where Kara is now.

Lena's back now, so where is Supergirl?

She tempted to text Kara and ask, but she holds out, unwilling to give in like that. Curiosity isn’t enough to send her crawling back. The anger has faded, but the hurt still lingers. She misses the Kara that she used to know, but she still isn’t sure where she stands now.

A few days after she comes back, she meets Alex for lunch - at a craft beer bar, because Dr. Fowler says it’s important for her be around people who care and she figures Alex is the closest she’s got. But still, she refuses to ask about Kara, and Alex doesn’t offer any information; though she does insist on meeting up again soon.  

Despite the million other things she has to do, one question overtakes her mind.

Where is Kara?

A look at CatCo records reveals that she’s been clocking in to work as scheduled, so maybe the question she should really be asking is ‘where is Supergirl?’

Later, back at her apartment,  she pulls out the switch that Kara sent her and sets it on her coffee table. An hour of staring at it doesn’t give her anymore answers than she had before.

* - - - - - — - - - - -

She finally gets her answer a week later when a school bus is locked up in a battle  with a few aliens. The bus stop is on her walk to get coffee, so she gets an unintentional front row view.

Her mind is racing, trying to think of some way to help in this post-Supergirl world that they're apparently in.  Luckily the DEO vans show up just as she’s debating how weaponize a fire hydrant, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

She breathes an even bigger sigh when Supergirl shows up out of nowhere to join the fight, and all of National City + Lena is enthralled. Especially when she sees Kara’s new suit.

It’s an all blue, skin tight number that Lena definitely hasn’t seen before, and the missing skirt adds to the attractiveness.  

Unfortunately, it doesn’t do much to distract Lena from the fight, especially when Kara puts herself in unnecessary danger.

The anger she thought she was over is back, only this time, it’s for Kara.

How dare Supergirl put her friend in danger like that, by fighting that horribly! Her speed is definitely slowed, and some of her movements are jerky and uncoordinated. Frankly, she looks like a prize fighter that took an extended leave of absence and showed up to the championship match without even a warm-up.

Which, Lena supposes, is exactly what happened.

She holds her breath for what feels like hours, refusing to exhale until the hostile alien is deposited with the waiting DEO agents nearby and Kara is safely on the ground.

She knows the exact moment that Kara spots her, shoulders tensing and her forehead crinkling.

Grinding her teeth, she watches as Kara takes a tentative step in her direction.

“Kara."

“Lena, I -"

If Kara had gotten hurt because Supergirl was on some hare-brained, self righteous mission to just jump back into action without even making sure she’s ready, Lena’s going to . . .

Well, she doesn’t really know what she’s going to do.

In fact, she barely realizes she’s made a decision until her fist is halfway to Supergirl’s face.

Bad move.

Stupid brain.

Thankfully, Kara shifts with the punch, but it still feels like she laid a haymaker into a brick wall.

“Shit! Shit! Fuck!” she doubles over, clutching at her hand, but soft fingers pry her hands apart and cold air leaves a frosty mist over her bruised knuckles as Kara uses her freeze breath to soothe the sting.

“Nothing’s broken, thankfully. Damn it, Lena, you really could have hurt yourself, you have to be careful -“

“I have to be careful?! I have to be careful?! I’m not the one who’s going around fighting aliens when it looks like I barely remember how to fly!”

To her surprise, Kara actually looks remorseful.

“I tried, Lena, I tried so hard, not to be Supergirl, but I -“ she gestures at the school bus. “- the kids, Lena, I couldn’t let them die just because -“

Lena interrupts her.

“You tried to stop being Supergirl?” That would certainly explain things, but it’s a concept Lena has a hard time wrapping her head around. “Why?”

Even as she towers over Lena in her cape and boots, Kara still somehow looks so small.

“Because you hate Supergirl, and I didn’t want you to hate me. I thought maybe if I could stop being Supergirl then maybe - well, I don’t know what I thought, but . . .”

Kara continues to speak, but Lena stops listening.

Instead, her eyes settle on something glinting in the sunlight.

A white gold chain around Kara’s neck, the sapphire of the pendant nearly hidden in the blue of her suit.

Suddenly, everything is too much.

Horns are honking, people are talking, and there’s a stupid bird that just won’t SHUT UP. Almost before she can make out what’s happening, Lena finds herself at the brink of a panic attack.

“Kara,” she fights to stay upright, holding up  a hand to stop the flow of the other woman’s words. “Get me out of here.”

“What?”

“Get me out of here, please.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere, please, just - “

Before she can blink, Kara’s scoops her up and they’re flying off. She has no idea where Kara is taking her, but it takes long enough that by the time they touch down, her panic attack is mostly over; Kara’s strong grip and the white noise of the wind working wonders.

They land on a deserted beach, and Lena looks out over the ocean for a long moment, trying to place where they are.

Until Kara clears her throat.

“Umm, should I like . . . put you down? I mean if you want me to hold you that’s fine, you’re really light, I just umm, well I didn’t know if you wanted to -“

“Kara.” she squeezes the shoulder under her hand, bringing the adorable rambling to a stop. “It’s fine, you can put me down, thank you.”

“Right, umm, here.” Kara bends, lowering her arm so that Lena’s feet can reach the ground, and she uses Kara’s for balance before stepping away.

“You know if I would have known it was really Kara Danvers holding me all those times you saved me, I would have enjoyed it a lot more.” Lena says without thinking, and Kara blushes all the way to the tips of her ears.

“Sorry!” she immediately backtracks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it was just awkward, and I thought ‘why not make it more awkward?’”

“No, it’s fine! I mean I like holding you.”

The awkward tension lingers between them for a long moment before Lena breaks it, turning to stare out over the ocean. She waits until Kara steps up beside her to speak.

“Where are we?”

"Somewhere in the Caribbean? I don’t know the exact coordinates, just a little place I found when I was looking for a place to think and look at the stars after you . . . after you left.”

“It’s beautiful.” Lena observes, and she can feel Kara’s eyes studying her profile. After a moment, she turns to look at Kara too, taking in the face she used to know so well.

“You cut your bangs.” she finally says, and Kara blinks at her from beneath the fringe.

“Well, you said you hated my ‘stupid hair’, so . . . “ Kara shrugs, and Lena holds back a smile.

“Is that why you changed your suit too?”

“No!” Kara’s forehead crinkles. “Maybe. Yes. I just didn’t want you to hate me anymore.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You hate Supergirl.” Kara counters.

Lena turns back to the ocean with a sigh.

“A while back, my therapist asked me how I felt about Supergirl, apart from you. And when she asked, I didn’t know what to say, because I wasn’t sure. But I’ve had some time to think about it, and I’ve come to some conclusions.”

She faces Kara before continuing.

“Supergirl is . . . she is kind, and she is good, and she's saved my life on numerous occasions. But she is also self-righteous, and arrogant, and stubborn - almost to the point of being foolhardy on occasion. . . She broke my heart once.”

Lena’s voice cracks, and her eyes fill with tears as Kara’s head drops to look at her boots.

“But she also made the decision to put on that suit and help people - people who don’t always deserve it - at great risk to herself. She could just hide away her powers and be a reporter and spend her Thursday nights playing scrabble with her friends instead of putting out factory fires. And I would love that person, because that person is enough. But instead she chooses to use her powers for good, she puts her life on the line to protect people. And for some reason she has this deeply rooted belief that people are good; even when I know for a fact that she’s seen some of the worst that humanity has to offer.”

“Lena -“

“Let me finish.” she says gently and Kara nods, tears streaking down her face.

“I don’t hate you, Kara. I could never hate you. And it’s taken a lot of therapy, and a lot of long talks with Alex, but . . .” She takes a moment to put her words in order.

“The way I see it, I have two options. I can move to a new city. I can work at a different office in a different state where nothing will be tainted with your memory and I can pretend like Kara Danvers never existed. But I don’t like that option.”

Kara’s face lightens marginally, but her eyes are still wary.

“What’s option two?”

“Option two is that I forgive you, and we start over. This time with no secrets - not about our identities, or our feelings, or our pasts. I want it all out on the table, and I want us to try. And it may not work and it won’t be easy, and I want you to see Dr. Fowler with me. But my heart has been shattered, regardless, and I can either fix it with you or without you, and I want to do it with you; because life is so much better with you in it. Even the bad parts.” The tears spill over now, and she chokes out a sob, Kara’s face crumpling.

“Lena, I am so sorry. And I never in a million years meant to hurt you. You’re my red sun. You make me feel so grounded, and home. And I realize now that I was using you as crutch to deal with this double life I lead, and I thought maybe somehow if I kept you separate then things would be different. But I was so wrong to do that to you. I should have told you the truth years ago, and I promise I will never keep secrets from you again. I will do whatever I have to, to make this work. I’ll go to therapy, I’ll communicate, I’ll literally fly to the moon if I have to.”

“Will you share your potstickers?” Lena can’t help asking, desperate to lighten the mood, if only for a second.

Kara sobs a laugh.

“You can have all the potstickers. I would never eat a potsticker again if it would make you happy. I would do anything you asked of me and not give it a second thought to show you how sorry I am.”

Lena studies her for long moment.

“Would you really give up being Supergirl for me?”

“Lena . . . I don’t think you understand. You’ve made me indestructible. Whatever weakness I still have under this yellow sun, you’ve come up with the technology to fix it. Nothing from earth can hurt me. But that day on the rooftop, when you walked away . . . it was like watching Krypton explode all over again. And there’s some sort of poetic justice about the person who made me indestructible also being the only one who can bring me to my knees. But would I give up Supergirl for you. I think showed today that I’m not very good at giving it up, but I would try again, for you.”

Lena can see the sincerity in her eyes, in the way that her arms are halfway outstretched as if just waiting for an invitation to pull Lena into a hug.

“I would never ask you to give up a part of who you are. In fact the reason that I was so upset when I found out was because you felt like you had to hide it from me in the first place. I want you to be yourself, and Supergirl is part of you; I just need you to share her with me.”

Kara nods slowly.

“I can do that.”

They stand there, staring at each other on the beach, the waves lapping against the shore, and for the first time since Lex told her the truth, Lena feels at peace.

“I know this is kind of awkward but . . . can I have a hug? I really missed your hugs.” Lena shifts awkwardly in the sand, but she shouldn’t have worried, because Kara’s eyes light up and her mouth twists into the soft smile that Lena loves so much.

“Of course, get in here, bring it in.” Kara’s arms widen even further, and she takes a step towards Lena before wrapping her up in a bear hug.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Kara whispers against her hair. “I was afraid that I’d never get you back.”

For a few long minutes, Lena just lets herself breathe, content in the way that Kara’s arms are just slightly too tight around her, her fingers clutching at Kara’s cape.

“It’s kind of weird, hugging you in the suit.” She says, finally breaking the silence.

“I can change?" Kara offers, starting to pull away, but Lena holds her in place.

“No, I wanna get used to it. I can’t limit my hug time to just when you’re not in the suit.”

Kara settles at that, and Lena waits another minute before she pulls away, unable to stop the smile that’s spreading across her face.

As much as it hurts, it’s good to have Kara back.

“So what now?” Kara asks, seemingly nervous in the aftermath of their hug.

“Now we’re going to get dinner. I’m picking,” she clarifies, “and paying, because it’s going to be fancy, and I’m going to make you eat vegetables.”

Kara’s nose scrunches.

“Fancy just means smaller portions.”

“Perks of being a billionaire, I can buy you as much food as you can eat.”

Kara’s nose stays scrunched, but she doesn’t complain further, so Lena continues.

“Then we’re going to talk, we’re going to lay everything out in the open, and we’re going to start this off right.”

“Your place? Or Mine?"

“Yours please, I left my NCU sweatshirt there last time I was over, and I want to get it back.”

“I’m sorry, your NCU sweatshirt?” Kara scoffs.

Lena raises an eyebrow.

“I went to NCU and I’m the one who bought that shirt!”

Lena’s eyebrow gets even closer to her hairline.

“You went to MIT!” Kara insists, and they face off for a moment before Kara finally caves.

“Fine, it’s your sweatshirt. That you sometimes let me borrow when it stops smelling like me and you don’t want to wear it anymore.”

Lena blushes at being caught in her scheme, and Kara grins.

“Ha! I knew it! It was always suspicious when it would randomly show back up.”

The glare Lena gives her is withering, but it does little to shrink Kara’s grin.

“Will you please take me home? Before I decide to add a plate of Brussel sprouts to our order just for you.”

“Geez, I was just joking, you didn’t have to bring Brussel sprouts into this!” Kara says with a laugh before stepping forward.

For the second time that day, Kara bends to scoop Lena up into her arms, but before she can, a thought strikes Lena and she taps Kara on the shoulder.

“Kara, before we go, I just have one more question.”

“Anything.”

“Why are you wearing the necklace?”

“Oh.” Kara’s hand reaches up to grip the pendant between her fingers. "That’s easy, because my best friend gave it to me, and then she disappeared, so this was the best way I had to keep her close.”

And Lena knows that they should probably take this slow, and they still have so much to talk about, but something about those blue eyes makes her lose all self control.

She leans forward, one hand  on Kara’s crest and the other on her cheek, and brings their lips together. She’s imagined kissing Kara more times than she’d like to admit, and she’s envisioned so many different possibilities for how it would be, but reality?

Reality is positively mind blowing.

For a moment, Kara seems stunned, but then she steps into the kiss; arms wrapping around Lena’s back and pulling her in.

It’s the best kiss of Lena’s entire existence, and as Kara’s lips move under hers, she can’t help but think that some things are worth fighting for, no matter the cost. Because not everyone is out to hurt her, and some people really do have good intentions -  at least that’s Dr. Fowler tells her. And maybe, she can start believing it too.

All too soon, Kara’s lips pull away, though her hands stay where they are - inching dangerously close to Lena’s backside.

“So just to clarify -“ Kara starts, and Lena takes a little pleasure in the way her cheeks are flushed and her breath is coming in puffs.

“Are we at the kissing stage now? Or this a one time thing? It’s cool either way, I just don’t want to overstep -“

“Kara Danvers!” Lena cuts her off with a laugh. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“Oh, wait, cause while we’re being open and honest -“

Lena’s heart rate spikes.

“- My real name is Kara Zor-El.”

“Zor-El, huh?”

Kara nods, a contented smile on her face.

“It sounds nice when you say it.”

“Well then, Kara Zor-el, shut up and kiss me."

And if she thought kissing Kara the first time was good, the second time?

Even better.