#their smiles!! tashi's face like the joy is coming back the second they are back in that hotel room

[pinkmoonmp3]

CHALLENGERS, 2024

[222col]

second to last part of sugardaddy!au | it's down to the wire, who's it going to be, art or patrick? | 18+

your neck's cramping, watching the tennis ball fly from one side of the court to the other and back and back again. past and present battling it out in front of you, watching both art and patrick pour everything they have into the game. it's the third of five sets, the boys currently winning one a piece each. your eyes are flying back and forth, listening to the grunts falling from their lips, knees bouncing up and down as you watch intently. one final grunt from patrick as the ball bounces over to art. "fuck!" he screams out, patrick so smug, another set handed to him.

the boys are panting, wiping the sweat from their faces as they take their seats. they're in sync, pulling out water bottles from under chairs and sipping. both sets of eyes on you, a motivation, a reminder of what's at stake. you're none the wiser of the deal the boys have made, but that doesn't mean you're unaware of the tension between them. you can feel it, the whole crowd can too, as if it was announced to the world that they were fighting for you. you don't know where to look, eyes flicking between the boys as though the match was still going.

watching patrick crack his neck as art stretches out his legs, staring each other down as they do. patrick smiling, thriving off the tension. "donaldson to serve." the umpire announces. your breath hitches, not that its been steady once the whole match. the noises that leave the boys' lips when hitting the ball unfocusing your brain from the game in front of you. shaking the dirty thoughts from your mind, breathing deeply as you watch the games before you. art snatches another set, two each, everything coming down to the final set of games. running quickly to the bathroom to gather yourself before the final set.

closing the bathroom's door behind you as you turn back to return to your seat, before art appears before you. "i used my bathroom break as soon as i saw you leave." he breaths out, still panting from his excursion. "we're playing for you, you know," his hand caresses your cheek. "what?" you question, leaning into his hand without realising. your brows are furrowed, you should be running for the hills. you're not a prize to be won, not a trophy for the winner. but you're not their girlfriend, in some fucked up way you're their employee. they pay you in presents and apartments and really fucking good sex. you do as you're told, shower them in attention and look after them in return. and yeah, feelings may be involved now, but you're still just technically working for them.

"patrick and i made a deal, winner takes all." you're stunned that art would agree, dumbfounded of how when he knows tashi sent you away. his thumb is stroking your face. "but even if you win, what about what tashi said-" he cuts you off, shushing you gently. "don't worry about it. we'll work it all out when i win." art places a kiss to your forehead before sprinting back to the court to avoid a time penalty.

taking your seat, the boys move into position for the fifth and final set. patrick winks to you as he throws the ball to the ground a few times, before up in the air to serve. all remaining energy is used by both boys, pulling out any special moves they had left in the locker. grunting louder, sweating more, desperate to clinch the win. their feet move like dancers, the grip you have on your knees tightening, leaning forward, desperate for the anxiety to leave your body, but knowing it won't, not even once the winner is crowned.

it's almost in slow motion as you watch the ball bounce out of the court, the umpire announcing the points. watching rackets hit the floor as he jumps into the air, screaming for joy. you're on your feet, mouth agape as you instinctively start clapping. one boy falling to the floor as the other continues celebrating. it's more than tennis, it's more than winning, it's more than life itself. your ears are ringing, finally locking eyes with him. those blonde locks bouncing as he drops to his knees in ecstasy. for the first time in major competition, art donaldson beats patrick zweig.

patrick lays on the floor of the court, chest rising repeatedly, screaming out "fuck me!" as he lays. all art wants to do is run over to you, sweep you off your feet and take you home, but he knows its not that easy. he smiles bigger than you've ever seen, standing up and walking over to patrick. holding out his arm for patrick to take, lifting him back up to his feet. "fair play, donaldson." he's shaking his head, patting art on the back. he's been defeated, when it mattered most. the boys collect their first and second place trophies, posing for pictures before art swings his arm around patrick, nodding for you to follow them off the court.

you meet them both in art's dressing room, immediately being scooped up into art's arms. laughing into his shoulder before he places you back on the ground. patrick's hiding his pain with a smile. opening his mouth to speak before the door opens and tashi walks in. "christ, you three are like a telenovela." art's arm snakes around your waist, patrick sitting on the bench next to you. "we have a lot to discuss." tashi leads you to the car waiting at the side entrance. "you too, zweig."

the journey is awkward, the car full of tension, undisguised by the silence. the boys sit together, the row behind you and tashi. pulling up to the donaldson residence, the four of you congregating in the living room. the boys sandwich you on the three seater, tashi alone on the chair, facing the three of you. after a few beats of more silence, tashi states your name. "when i invited you into my home, i underestimated you. i thought you'd just be some fun young thing that my husband would inevitably get bored with, but that isn't the case, is it?" she's waiting for an answer as she stares down art, legs crossed on the arm chair. art shakes his head, barely making eye contact with his wife. "i brought you to my home to give art the attention he was lacking, so i could focus on his tennis." even patrick isn't smiling, the situation all to serious and awkward for your liking. "and you did that, maybe a little too well. i've watched my husband fall in love with you over the past year, and although it wasn't what i wanted, it has made him a better tennis player."

art's blushing, embarrassed at the display his wife is making, his hand moving to your knee as she admits the true feelings he has for you. "so, when i realised the love my husband had gained for you, i sent you away. what i didn't expect was for loverboy over there to swoop you up the moment you left." you're grimacing, and of course, patrick is now smirking. his hand now moving to the knee that art isn't touching. tashi states your name again, your eyes locking with hers. "i don't know what it is that you do to get both these boys eating out of the palm of your hand, but i do know, their tennis skills are better for it." tashi has gained her power back, she had the second she walked into art's dressing room. "i can't help you decide who's dick you want to suck more money out of, but i am removing myself from it all." it's your turn to blush now, art's eyes picking up at tashi's statement. she stands from her chair, ready to leave the room before stating. "i will always be your coach art, but you need more from a partner than i can give you." she smiles slightly, like she's finally letting her caged bird free.

the two boys' heads turn to face you. "i won, she's mine. you can't go back on it now, patrick." patrick rolls his eyes, looking to you for an answer.

"what do you say, princess? who's it going to be, me or art?"

[certifiedskywalker]

Dating Luke Skywalker Would Include...

Anonymous said: hello, how are you? was wondering if i could get some meeting and dating (young) luke skywalker x reader headcanons please but no pressure! have a nice day :)

AN: Thank you darling, for asking! I’m well, a little tired but well! I hope this meets (and exceeds) your expectations!

Is it cliche to say you meet Luke in the Rebellion?

However cliche it is, your meeting was a perfect whirlwind.

Tensions were running high and the Empire was breathing down your neck.

A move had to be made and, luckily for the Rebellion, the Princess of Alderaan had returned with reinforcements.

Though, at first glance, her saviours were not much to look at. 

“They rescued you?”

“It was more of a group effort,” Leia admitted, taking the data pad from your hands. “If it wasn’t for them, I would have been killed. If it weren’t for me, well, so would they.”

As she spoke, you watched the blond, the one you believe you heard Leia call Luke, bounce from pilot to pilot.

He looked as eager as a protocol droid at a linguistic convention.

The noise around you seemed to muddle as you watched Luke chat with the X-Wing crews.

Even with the distance between you two, you could tell that he was cute.

Cute didn’t last long in the Rebellion; you frowned at the thought.

“That one doesn’t bite,” Leia said, breaking you from your thoughts. “The smuggler on the other hand...he’s rough around the edges.”

“Do you think they’ll stay with us?”

When you looked at Leia, waiting for her reply, you saw that her brown eyes held hints of grief in them.

“Luke will. His heart is in this fight, just like the rest of us.”

You cocked a brow at her. “Then why do you look so sad?”

Leia turned her eyes back to the data pad you had given her.

“I could introduce you if you like.”

Your chest tightened at Leia’s suggestion and, despite being many meters away, checked to see if Luke had somehow overheard the Princess.

“I’m not sure that would be-”

“Wise? When we’re on the raging end of war?”

“Exactly.”

Leia sighed and shook her head. “My parents once told me that inaction is the worse path one could take. In politics, in life, in love. Even if it is small, movement forward towards a brighter future is the best choice. Always.”

It was hard to ignore the words of Leia’s deceased, adoptive parents. 

You could see that she was hurting, still aching with the loss of her entire world. 

Reaching over, you grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. 

“Then introduce me.”

It seemed that Leia was more than willing to step away from the rush and chaos that the Empire brought to the Rebellion’s door.

Still holding your hand, Leia dragged you over to where Luke was fluttering about.

He was midconversation with Briggs, a skilled X-Wing pilot from Tatoonine, when Leia tapped him on the shoulder.

In a flash of blond hair, you caught your first glance of his shining blue eyes.

Then you saw his smile: lopsided and charming.

In that moment you knew you were completely gone. 

What ever the future had in store, what ever battles, wars, and losses, you knew you wanted to be by Luke’s side.

It was like electricity the like of which you never felt before. 

“Luke, this is Y/N, my friend and fellow representative of the Rebel Alliance.”

Your face warmed as Luke looked you over.

Did he feel it too?

He must have because his smile widened.

“Hey, I...Hey. I’m Luke.”

He held out his hand to you and, without a second thought, you took it in yours.

“I know.”

“Hah, y-yeah, I guess you do.”

Leia stood between you, glancing at Luke then you, and back again.

She knew what was happening before either you or Luke did.

“Y/N can show you around while we get some work done. Right, Briggs? That engine isn’t going to fix itself before the charge, hmm?”

“No, ma’am,” the pilot replied.

Before Luke could tell him goodbye, Briggs was off; lest he face the wrath of Princess Organa.

“Now, run along. I have work to do,” Leia sauntered away, leaving you and Luke alone.

When you looked back at Luke, you saw that he was already staring at you; waiting for you.

Warmth flooded your face but you pushed past it.

“So, this is the hangar.”

You showed Luke the ins and outs of the Yavin VI base.

With every location or small detail you pointed out, you and Luke spent the next strides talking about yourselves.

“Tatoonine? That’s how you know Briggs?”

“Yeah. When we were younger we’d go to Tashi Station and play pilots. We were free to go anywhere and do anything.”

“Well, you’re not playing anymore, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

Luke scratched the back of his neck and you suddenly felt as if you had stepped over a line with your words.

“Are you alright?”

“I, uh,” Luke stopped in his tracks and shook his head. “You’re right. This isn’t a game anymore. Piloting it’s...it’s life and death.”

“It’s still free, you just have to fight for it.”

Luke lifted his head then, you meet your gaze.

There was a glint in his eyes that you would not soon forget.

A glint of hope, a new drive to live.

It made your heart swell. 

Then the sirens went off and you shoulders dropped. 

Luke’s eyes suddenly widened at that sounds, a mixture of fright and excitement in his features.

“Is that…”

“Yes,” you whispered, letting your gaze fall. “Are you flying in?”

“Y-Yeah,” in Luke’s reply you detected a nervousness.

When you looked up to meet his gaze, you see that you glint was gone, replaced by an expression you had seen so many pilots wear before.

Without thinking, you reached and grabbed Luke’s hand with yours.

“You’ll be okay. There’s great things in store for you here, Luke. Just fight.”

“Just fight,” he echoed.

You felt his hand tighten around yours before he ran off to the hangar again to ready his X-Wing.

And fight he did. 

He fought, tooth and nail with the rest of the Rebels.

When they returned, you were amongst the first to greet them.

Your eyes scanned over the gathering crowd as techs and pilots alike rejoiced in this victory.

When you finally saw Luke clambering out of his X-Wing, a flood of relief washed over.

You had known he was alive as he was the one that delivered the fatal blow to the Empire’s Death Star but seeing him, in one piece, made your heart soar.

Somehow, moving through the masses of people, you made your way over to him.

A taller man, the one Luke had come to Yavin VI with, embraced him and was soon followed by Leia, who was smiling widely.

For a moment, it felt like you were intruding on the scene.

Like you were seeing something important, something grand, and did not want it to end.

Luke was beaming and you felt silly about how much his smile made your chest ache.

You had only just met him and yet it felt as if some force (or Force) was pulling you to him.

How silly, you thought; how could something do that?

But, just as you began turning away, you felt someone grab your hand.

“Hey! We fought!”

“And we won!”

Luke pulled you close and, for a split second, you thought he was going to kiss you.

But that was crazy! Too soon!

Though, you wouldn’t complain if it happened.

Instead, you were overwhelmed by the warmth of Luke’s arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. 

From that moment on, you strove towards that warmth, towards the joy held in Luke’s arms.

Since that attack on that first Death Star, you and Luke grew closer.

When he returned from missions, you were the first person he sought out to see.

“Y/N!”

“You’re back!”

You would share an embrace that would garner the stares of passersby.

If Leia was around for one of these hugs, you would catch flack about it later.

“That quite the reunion.”

“We hadn’t seen each other in over a cycle it seems!”

“No need to get defensive,” Leia would say with a smile. “It’s just an observation.”

“I know that tone.”

“Then you know what I’m implying.”

Leia and Han bond over teasing your bond with Luke.

Wholesome all around.

About a month before the Rebel Alliance is forced to vacate Yavin VI, you meet Luke in the makeshift cantina on base.

He was just readying to leave for a recon mission to scope out planets for a new base

And despite the excitement of that, you cannot deny how tired he looks. 

“Are you alright?”

Luke meets your gaze and there is an unfamiliar coldness in his eyes.

You reach across the table and grab his hand.

“You know you can tell me, right? You can tell me anything.”

There’s a flash of hesitance in his expression but it quickly melts away to reveal the Luke you know best.

“I know, Y/N, it’s just...I’ve been having dreams.”

Luke explains his dreams, his nightmares.

Some are about Ben Kenobi, a man you never met but Luke insists you would have loved as he had.

Others, Luke explains, are about that battle, that final shot into the Death Star.

“Some nights I miss and there’s a different explosion. One of war and pain and...I..”

“Hey,” you squeeze his hand, bringing Luke’s attention back to you. “You didn’t miss. You and those squadrons saved countless lives.”

Luke nods but you can tell he is not easily convinced. 

“I see faces in those dreams. People I’ve known and people I don’t. They’re all in pain. I see you, too, and you’re in pain. It’s...awful. I can’t take them anymore.”

“You don’t have to go through them alone.”

As you spoke, you grow courage and entangle your fingers with Luke’s. 

At the touch, he breathing evens and you can see the fear flee from his eyes.

“Whenever you have a nightmare like that, you find me, okay? Those dreams are some darkness trying to twist you.”

You squeeze his hand again.

“I’m right here, still alive, and breathing like you.”

“Y/N, I’m in l-”

“Master Luke!”

Before Luke could finish what he was about to say, a familiar, golden protocol droid waddled up to where you were sitting.

“Master Luke! Princess Organa has sent me looking after you all around the base!”

“What does she need, Threepio?”

Even with his slightly annoyed tone, Luke was still holding your hand.

“You were supposed to leave Yavin VI twelve minutes ago!”

Luke’s eyes went wide and you felt his hand tighten around yours.

“She told you, several hours ago, regarding your take off time, that you-”

“I know, I know,” Luke said, shaking his head.

You gave him a fond smile, sympathizing with his flustered expression.

But when he met your gaze, you saw there was something else there, deep in his eyes.

“I thought I had more time.”

“You must leave immediately, Master Luke, to meet at the marker with Fulcrum.”

Luke’s face fell and you squeezed his hand. 

“We can talk later. It can wait until you get back.”

“Y/N, I don’t know when I’ll-”

“When you get back.”

You saw a flash of desperation in his eyes and you felt the same in your heart.

The idea of him leaving so quickly, so suddenly, pained you.

But you knew you would see him again; Luke always came back.

He always came back to you. 

“I’ll see you then, yeah?”

“Alright.”

Luke moved to slide out of his seat, his hand slipping out of yours in the process. 

“Stay safe,” you murmur, as Luke walks past you.

You saw his lips move, utter some tender reply that you could not quite make out as he strode off.

All at once, you were alone, horribly alone.

You glanced down into your empty glass sighed.

At least there were free refills.

As you moved to head towards the bar, you felt someone grab your wrist.

When you looked up, you were met with Luke’s blue eyes watching you, reading you like a data pad.

“I didn’t want to wait for this.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Luke’s hand on your wrist tightened and pull you up, closer to him. 

Warmth floods your system and then, it almost becomes a dream.

Luke presses his lips against yours and you feel like you’re floating.

It is all soft and needy and when he pulls away it feels too soon. 

Half-lidded and wanting, you hold Luke’s gaze.

“Y/N, I-”

“Master Luke!”

“You gotta go,” you whisper.

Luke nods and turns away, but his hand still lingers on his wrist.

You’re mentally preparing to watch him leave again when he turns around and kisses you again, harder than the last time. 

That was the last time you saw him before the Alliance moved to Hoth. 

You spent months waiting for him to return.

Worried for cycles, wondering if Luke was really going to come back to you.

When he finally did, you rushed to the icy hangar hungry for the sight of him.

You’re nearly slipping down halls as you basically run to him.

Just as you round the last corner…

Smack!

“Y/N!? Are you alright?”

You don’t even respond.

You’re too caught up in the fact that he is there, at last, in arms reach. 

Both of you are on the cold floor but that doesn’t matter.

You grab him by the flight suit (he didn’t even take the time to take it off, he was that eager to see you) and pull his lips to yours. 

His hands find the sides of your face and kissed you like a man stranded in the vast empty of space who found a last breath of fresh air. 

Neither of you care that you’re siting on the cold ground of the Hoth base

Or that those who pass by are staring, dumbfounded at the mess of a pilot and technician on the floor.

When you finally pull away, you and Luke are beaming at each other.

No words are said; nothing has to be said.

You’re happy enough to be together, at last.

That is perhaps the greatest thing about loving Luke.

Happiness with him comes easy.

Waking after long nights, by his side.

You often wake before him and savor the quiet moment before he stirs.

He looks so peaceful in his sleep; like the weight of the galaxy didn’t rest on his shoulders.

Like he did not wear the moniker of ‘the last jedi’.

Then, silently, Luke will wake and, with eyes still closed, he will pull you to him.

“I can feel when you stare.”

“Is that a Force thing?”

“No, it’s a you thing.”

On mornings like those, it’s hard to get up and moving.

The two of you just lie together you either get hungry or C3P0 comes rushing in to tell Luke that he’s needed somewhere on base.

That is perhaps the ‘worst’ thing about loving Luke.

Everyone else loves him too.

Everyone else needs him too.

So you have to hang on to the moments you get with him.

Those lazy mornings and those dark nights.

There are times when you and Luke feel like a Sun and Moon; always passing each other, busy with your tasks.

But you always find eachother in the end, those stolen moments when you both share the same sky, the same task, the same room.

Those moments are filled with needy kisses and the swapping of stories.

You both make a deal to go to the base’s cantina once a week for a sort of ‘date night’.

Those ‘date nights’ end one of two ways:

One: Someone, whether a droid or ranking officer, interrupts your evening.

Second: you and Luke leave after a few minutes, fearing someone, droid or officer, will interrupt your evening.

If you leave early, you just stay within one of your respective chambers.

To put it lightly, the two of you become, nearly, homebodies.

Life in the Rebellion is so wild and unpredictable that having an escape, the general reliability of your small room, is nice.

Better than nice, amazing. 

You two are able to speak freely, deeply, and do other things not suited to the public.

 “Do you think they’ll ever…?”

“Han and Leia?”

“No...well..maybe.”

When he gets lost in the snow storm that time, it takes all Leia has to keep you on base while Han searches for him. 

“You’re no good to him if you get lost too!”

Tears streamed down your face at the idea of him alone out there, facing the Hoth cold and creatures by himself.

“I love him, Leia!”

“I know! I know,” she holds you close and tries to soothe you.

Yet, you’re only soothed when Han lugs Luke through the doors. 

For the next few days, you’re sleeping in the medbay.

When you’re awake, you’re watching droids work on Luke, increasing his chances for survival. 

You’re barely sleeping.

It’s impossible to rest with the steady beep of Luke’s heart monitor.

You are studying the bruises on his skin and cuts on his face.

You’re trying to remember what he looked like before: with soft features, eyes open and full of love.

Every so often, his eyelids twitch and your heart leaps with momentary joy.

When the steady beep continues on, you fall back against your chair.

You glance at his lips and wonder if you’ll ever kiss them again.

You see the corner of his lips twitch, but you know better than to get your hopes up.

Then, the corner of his lips lifts entirely into a small, tired half smile.

“It’s a you thing.”

“Luke!”

You’re over at his side immediately, clutching his hand and pressing your lips to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m so-”

“Shh, no. I let you go out alone this was…”

“Don’t,” Luke warns. 

His hand grabs yours and squeezes weakly.

“I’m right here, still alive, and breathing like you.”

You can’t help but laugh lightly at his words, an echo of yours from many months before.

“Barely,” you reply, before leaning down to kiss him like the first time.

You spend time with him, getting Luke back on his feet.

He tells you about how he heard Ben’s voice, how he needs to leave.

“I feel like I just got you back.”

“I know, but I….”

“You need to do this,” you say softly.

“Yeah, I do. I don’t know how long it will take but I love you, I’ll be back.”

You smile when Luke’s eyes widen.

“I-I….”

“You love me?”

“Yes, I...I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

You spend as much time with him as you can before he leaves.

“Be safe out there.”

“Always. I have to come back to you, don’t I?”

“Have to?”

“Want to. Need to.”

Even though he is many hyper jumps away, you can feel that he is alive.

You almost think it’s the Force before you know that this feeling is deeper.

It is real love.

It is something even stronger than the Force.

Something stronger than you or Luke by yourselves.

You’re strongest when you’re together and, when you are together, it feels that everything is in balance.

So you stay together through it all.

The Empire’s fall, the New Republic.

You hold his hand and he holds yours, for as long as you both can.

[namjoonchronicles]

parenting | sj

↳ genre fluff, domestic au, dad-to-be seokjin

↳ words 3.6k

↳ summary Duties of a wife, duties of a husband. The millennial are not only the most intelligent generation, their sense of independence  intrude the traditional rules of union, family and parenthood. With the pinning occupation and demands from the baby-boomer generation, can you and husband, pull through?

↳ warning that side of adulthood, mentions of abortion, construed perception of marriage and having kids, seokjin as a husband, yup that’s it

↳ namjoonchronicles’ honorary tag list @kai-tashi @septemberalien @joon94net @yourlocalalien @snugglemejeon (i caught you haha) @yoongiseesaw with love and affections the universe can offer <3

↳ special thanks to @fangirlaholicxx and @majestikblue for being an amazing addition to my life, for loving the shits I wrote and for having much patient for this troubled soul *cringe*

↳ song natalie taylor ‘surrender’

It begins to drizzle. You watched the raindrops starting to taint the otherwise clear window of the train you frequently took to go home. He was right, you smiled. Maybe you should have listened. You already know he would start nagging the moment you step out of the train and the thought was not as repulsive as you thought it would be.

A toy car came and stopped it’s quest on your shoes. Squatting, you pick them up, wondering who it might belong to. There he was, peering from behind his mother, thick lashes, fair skinned and hazel brown eyes as the orange light from the descending sun hits. The mechanic creaking from the trains rusting parts seemed to dim down at the sight of this child, barely four, you estimated. At his eye level, you pitch a big welcoming smile to gently say, “Is this yours?”

He nuzzled his forehead at his mother’s wrist, looking up at her, asking for permission if he could speak to you, or respond in any way. His mother twitches her wrist a little to tell him that it’s okay and he can answer, with a small nod and smiling down at him from her eyes. He nodded slowly, no smile, no eye contact-- he was shy. His cheeks turned bright red from having to speak to a complete stranger in a train he took with his mother to recover his toy car.

“Go get it then, and thank the kind lady,” his mother reminded him. Stern and soft at the same time, nurturing. His voice was very audible but his sincerity was loud. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean the toys to slip out of his hands. Such a lovely boy. It was a short touch. Barely a second long. But it felt natural. It felt…. Nice.

Rain pattering against the shield of the umbrella. Steps avoiding the puddle in the poorly managed road on this particular side of the city, he huffs in complete dissatisfaction. Somewhere along the platform, waiting for his wife in a padded coat and reddening nose was Kim Seokjin. Puffs of warm air escape his mouth as he shivers in place to fight the cold unforgiving weather. He protruded his lips, eyes scanning around the platform until he found an indicator, a time frame where the train is expected to arrive. He squinted hard at this, provided his poor eyesight that seems to worsen with time and age.

“Another four minutes,” he mentally noted himself. His heart beams at the thought of the food he had prepared at home for her. She’ll love it. It’s her favourite, and maybe would console her a bit after a hard day at work. His only concern is if it’s something that he couldn’t fix. You are a worry wart, and that’s what corners him to his unprecedented despair. Watching you eat became his ultimate joy. And now, it offers a new meaning. He grips tighter into the umbrella handle, anticipating the person he believes to be the one.

The train dings to arrival and as the crowd of strangers leave the coach, he craned his neck and went on tiptoes to find a pair of eyes that knows him. People are ushering out, and chatters went unnoticed. When the crowd dissolves, there she was.

You locked arms with his. Beaming smile at the tall stature of your husband, passing a brush of your lips on his. “What did I tell you…” he spoke, gently and you rolled your eyes to the side.

“Fine, fine. You’re right… you’re always right,” you stepped into the escalator before him and he stood behind you. “Say it in full, I want to hear them,” he hissed, thumbing your hip as a sign of provocation. “I’m not going to say it, and it rained when I got here, not when I left for work,” you glanced over your shoulder at him, with a sheepish smile. “It rained, regardless so say it, say Kim Seokjin is always right,” he pokes your clothed butt cheek, hovering over the shell of your ear. Despite standing behind you on a escalator to the top, he is still very much taller than you are.

“If I say it, will you stop poking my butt, you bully…” “I’m a bully?” he chucks, and, “Listen you ungrateful porridge, I went all the way to fetch you because you didn’t bring an umbrella when I had told you it’s going to rain today, and I’m the bully? You’re the biggest bully in the bully community…” “Kim Seokjin is always right,” you stepped off the escalator and Seokjin had the umbrella opened.

The umbrella failed to shield you fully, your leather pumps splattered with water at once and gawked at your supposedly romantic husband.

“Thank you for bringing tiniest umbrella of all the seventeen umbrellas we have at home… your shoulders take most of the space, Seokjin,” you shook your head, amused. “That was the plan,” he smirked at you. He took your tiny frame inside his padded coat and squeezed you closed enough to warm yourself up. “So I could do this,” an evil smile on his face. “You cheeseball,” you tattered.

Stepping into the house, you dashed towards the tissue box and began wiping Seokjin’s forehead and face.  He takes off his padded jacket and took yours off, “Blouse and slacks too, laundry day today. And then we’ll have dinner.”

In your short shorts, your legs swings underneath the table, waiting for Seokjin to bring over the pot he just reheated for you. The television is showing the news for today, and then there’s a drama right after that you both were following. Seokjin rids of his heat-resistant gloves and washed his hands again at the sink. “Just a little bit for me,” he said, giving you his back while you fill the bowls with soup. You didn’t answer and just did as told. Seokjin rations his food and doesn’t eat much. He doesn’t eat meat fats and was a fan of vegetables; broccolis in particular. He usually have them steamed and poorly salted. Ever since the family doctor told him to watch his sugary intakes, he takes his diet rather seriously.

For awhile, there’s only sound coming from the tv and steel cutleries hitting against ceramic bowls. And then you broke the silence with the story of your day.

“They didn’t update me the official date and screamed at me for not doing it in a timely manner. They also told me I should be doing the overtime because I have no commitments. It’s so unfair,” you mumbled against a spoonful of rice. Seokjin dropped his gaze from the view of your side profile and took another sip of the soup. Unfair, it is. Everyone at work was so self-centred, he had a good dash of it when he was working, too. “...But you’re not the only one who falls in the category. Others are just bullying you because the rest of the interns are great at kissing asses,” he explodes.

“Oh shit, I forgot to get coffee grind,” you cursed, and smacking your forehead. Seokjin heard it, and cleared his throat. He was nervous, but the discussion has been long overdue. “I’d like it if you stop drinking coffee,” he gave you three piece of fried mushrooms and avoided your eyes. “Why so suddenly… is this your way of telling me that I should change my diet? You’re not one to be this intrusive, so I’m going to tell you that you are being intrusive…” you defended yourself. “We are married, nothing is intrusive…” he dragged his tone.

You set the chopstick down, propped your elbows up and laced your fingers together, resting them underneath your chin, framing your feigned smile, “Oh really…”

Seokjin grabbed a glass of orange juice from the side and downed several gulps before he turned to you and told you what he found in the bathroom trash can. From the revelation, you visibly stiffen and lowered your gaze. You went back to eating your dinner.

“When were you planning to tell me?” now he laces his fingers, and leaned on one elbow, peering down at you as you sat on the dining table next to him. He pointed the remote to the tv and muted it. “How long have you been taking birth control pills?” he added, with an accusative tone. He lowered his face so he could see you, “Hmm?”

“I ran out of it a few weeks ago and didn’t restock.” “Why are you taking birth control pills?” “Because…” “We’re married for goodness sake, for five years now, why are you doing this? Do you know how many times I have to come with a reason as to why we’re not having children yet? To my parents? You don’t look like you’re planning to tell me at all.” “I was going to…” “To what? To get rid of it?”

Seokjin’s parents had been asking. They asked why they weren’t blessed with grandchildren yet. He didn’t know that you’ve been taking birth control pills. You didn’t tell him. He went behind you and checked his sperm counts and it was normal, his manhood was normal, and the doctor couldn’t pinpoint why you couldn’t get pregnant. His questions were answered when he saw the empty package of Aubra 28’s in the bin. Along with a used pregnancy stick that showed double line. Indicating a positive.

“Whether or not we’re having children is none of their concerns, Seokjin,” you finished your final bowl of rice and helped clean up. Your hands are busy, picking up dishes, storing the leftovers in a container, stocking them in the fridge, and washing the dishes while Seokjin remains seated on the dining chair. He covered his lips with his laced hands and flickered his eyes to the television screen. Whatever that was playing on them, doesn’t register in his head. Because clearly, there was a bigger discussion at hand. The pots, kitchen wares clinks against the sink, water rinsing off the foams and you set them to the side to dry, one by one.

“Do you not want to have children with me, is that what it is?”

Seokjin spoke in a whisper but loud enough for you to hear. The way his voice brittles, the way it cracks and how the words were delivered was enough to shatter your heart into pieces. He is as heartbroken as you are. Seokjin wanted to be a father. He wanted it so much. His only desire in life was to nurture another human being and be a proud dad. He even had their names, damn it. All these while, he thought that if he continues to serve his wife the right way, she will be able to conceive with a brighter set of mind and a better lifestyle. Maybe a child would help her get through day to day struggles, maybe it could strengthen the bond because without a child, marriage is incomplete.

Furthermore, it had been 5 years. What irks him the most is how you attempted to hide this from him. It made him feel like he wasn’t a part of your life. You made a decision without him. You have sabotaged the union with your selfishness.

Last plate on the dish rack. You patted your hands  dry with the washcloth, turning to face your sullen husband. The kitchen counter being the only thing separating you both. It provided you with a shield of some sort.

“That’s not what this is,” you glide your eyes to the side, folding the washcloth neatly, Well. “That’s not just what it is.”

There’s more? Seokjin pushed his chair back, walked past you in the kitchen, took a can of beer from the fridge, slam the fridge’s door and harshly spoke underneath his breath with a deadly glare directed at you, “If I’m the problem, then you should have said so.”

With every lunge of steps he took away from you, you felt the pressing need to tell you what was going through your mind. Clenching your jaws, you released your lips from your teeth and sputtered, “I’m scared.”

Seokjin’s steps halted almost instantly. His ears picks the words up, one by one and they string in his head. He blinks and the hard expression is no longer there. It softens, weakens.

“I’m scared that I won’t be able to be a good mother,” you added, and after a long pause, “I’m lacking a lot. I’m not enough. I don’t have the credibility to be a good human, how can I raise another one… and that fear has led me to hurt another person very dear to me.”

Seokjin dropped his head, swallowed a thick lump in his throat and exhaled through his nose. As if he had been holding his breath all these while. Everything pieces itself up. Your strange decision, your diversion when it comes to the topic, your aloofness when talks about creating family comes to view--they all make sense. But Seokjin has his own ego. So instead of turning his heels and embracing you like he should, he carried on walking into the bedroom.

“Please don’t bring beer inside the room that we sleep in,” you hurried to say but you were replied with a slam of the door. You dropped your head and unmute the television, in an attempt to escape your thoughts. This wasn’t healthy, and yet, he chose this. He chose to avoid confrontation by slamming the door shut.

Two sad souls, different principles, different aspirations, different needs. Finding the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders, and blaming yourself for the disastrous ordeal, you reclined on the floor next to running washing machine with your knees up and apart. You have your elbow on one knee and pressed your forehead on the heels of your hand. Frowning, you felt the sting in your eyes and tears followed suit. At the same time, your free hand caressed over your tummy. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t keep you,” you sobbed, “Mommy’s scared.”

Scared. Does she think she’s alone in this marriage? What am I then? A stone? A picture frame on the walls? This ring on my finger, isn’t it a promise? Isn’t this house built on the trust that no matter how difficult things are and will be, we are going to be right next to each other?

Seokjin fiddles his wedding band and took them off only to place them on the bedside table. He lays his head on top of his hand, over the pillow, facing away from the door. His eyes reddening from keeping them open, unable to shake the anger from his heart, spreading through his veins. Scared; he repeated in his head. Is five years not enough to build trust? How long does he have to keep them up? His assumptions are, that you were scared that he would leave you. That he will turn his back to you like your father did. That he will not be there to catch you when you fall, like your father did. Seokjin darted his eyes, drilling through the curtain, laying on his side, curled in a ball.

That’s how you found him. You shut the door behind you as gently as you can, almost tiptoed your way in and sat at the edge of the bed, your side empty. Seokjin clenched his jaws and shut his eyes, forcing himself to sleep.

You swallowed a thick gulp of saliva before anything else. Palms sweaty, and you feel every movement in your bones that you made to touch Seokjin’s shoulder, but your hand halted before it got there. Part of you was unsure if this is what you wanted, or what he wanted. “Seokjin, baby. Are you sleeping?” you asked. He doesn’t respond.

“Seokjin, sometimes I envy you….” you begin, and dropped your head with a faint smile on your lips. Faint, it was barely there. “I envy you a lot, I think that there’s nothing you couldn’t do in this world, you don’t give a shit about what people say, and just do them your way.”

“You’ve come a long way since your high school days. Where you’ve gotten bullied because you were too pretty, your over invasive father who drilled you to be better than your older brother, so the only friend you have is your mom. I used to envy that, the fact that you can be friends with your mom. I envy that you can talk to her about anything and know that she’ll always have your back, unlike mine. I got bullied in school and she told me not to look so weak,” you added an awkward chuckle. You continued to say that you grew up, misunderstanding her aloofness as her lack of care, until you recognised her strength. She always had herself to fight, standing on her own two feet and how she was heavily reliant to your father. And he, in return, betrayed her trust.

“I was raised by a woman who had been abused her whole life, and in the shreds of whatever that’s left, she attempted to raise me. I compare myself to her. I know it was a foolish move but if I can’t be as great as she was, what makes you think I’ll be a great mother?”

Your situation were different from Seokjin’s. Financially, emotionally, physically. Seokjin could change schools when he was bullied. Seokjin could ask his mother for comfort. Seokjin could rely on someone while he is growing up. You on the other hand, was raised to be a soldier, and marriage is a spectacle, fundamentally to be avoided at all cost. Love, romance, sex; none of it signifies loyalty. Loyalty takes years to built, and seconds to destroy--just like trust. That was the house you lived in.

“I envy you Seokjin… because you could be a great dad but I couldn’t be a good mom.”

“I’m not blaming you for not being able to accept the person that I am, because we had been talking about this for years, now,” your chest heaves as you clawed your fingers on the bed sheet. “I cannot ask for more time can I?” you blinked to the view of the sheet.

“You don’t trust me…” Seokjin breaks silence, still avoiding you, “You think I’m going to walk away. That’s what hurts me the most.”

Settling fully in the middle of the bed, you knelt and Seokjin switches to his back but darted his eyes straight to the ceiling with his back of his wrist on his forehead. His eyes glimmering with impending tears.

“I registered us for a parenthood classes, I cancelled everytime you say you have your period. I bought baby clothes and kept them in the drawer so you wouldn’t see them. I got vaccination schedules from the doctor’s office in case we are conceiving but we never were, and I found positive pregnancy test in the bin next to an empty blister pack of birth control pills, can you imagine how I felt?” His tears fall and wet the pillow case but he maintains his gaze to the ceiling. You lowered your head even more.

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke through quivering lips. “Why is it so wrong for me to have a child with the person I love?” his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallowed unsteadily. “Where do you think I was going to go?” Seokjin flickered his eyes at you, “It’s easier to leave me behind without a child, isn’t it?”

“Seokjin,” you wiped your eyes roughly with the back of your hand. “You are my wife… We promised each other that no matter what, we’ll make it work,” he sat and faced you. He raises his arm and cupped your cheeks, thumbing your tears. “You poor little idiot,” he gently scolded, “You think you’re the only one who is scared? I’m scared too. Having a child is scary, but with you, I think I can be brave. So I need you to be brave with me… I think you’ll be an amazing mom. No, I know, you’ll be amazing. You always have been.”

He presses his lips on yours. Wet eyelashes, messy hair, soft lips. Mascara melting, smeared lipstick, a faint hint of your Bvlgari perfume dancing around his nostril--a beautiful mess he is in love with.

“Lily…” Seokjin warned, “No.”

Seokjin brought two year old Lily to the playground in your apartment area. You decided to join them after leaving the bus station that was at the foot of your apartment. You sat on the swing next to him.

“Are you still mad?” he asked. “Definitely,” you shot with a smile straight to your baby girl.

Seokjin put his hands out of his jacket, “It was just a picture. I admit I pushed over certain boundaries, but I didn’t plan for it to happen… It was a school reunion, there will be friends who brought their sisters along…” You frowned at the sky and then at him, “No.”

“It’s nothing serious…” “These girls has your phone number, Seokjin.” “It’s nothing.” “Guess who’s banned to have ice cream on ice cream Thursday…” you swing your head in his direction and stretched your arm out, “Lily, let’s go home…”

Seokjin hurried after you, poking your waist. “I won’t do it again, I won’t. I promise, please let me have ice cream… Lily, please tell your mom to let daddy have ice creams…” Lily begins babbling almost immediately and you sputtered a chuckle. Then she hooked one arm around his neck and another around yours. It’s a signal for: Make up, already. Sometimes, having a handsome husband is a problem. A huge problem.

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copyright © 2019 namjoonchronicles do not repost, tell me how the food taste :) :)

[prettyyoungandbored]

You and I {DouglasBooth!Nikki Sixx} Chapter Four

Pairing: DouglasBooth! Nikki Sixx x Reader

Summary: There was a time when all Y/N and Nikki had were themselves and Nikki’s dreams of creating the next great band. What happens when the dream comes alive?

Taglist: @fandomshit6000 @cosmicsskies @tashy-bear@versaceismehoe @thissongitsaboutyou @prettysureimgayxo @divaanya @tarahell @yoinks-i-dont-feel-so-good 

A/N: This chapter is shorter than normal so I do apologize for that. The next one will be a lot longer. I still hope you guys enjoy!

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Following their first performance, Mötley Crüe quickly became a household name on the Sunset Strip. Six months later, they found themselves on the cover of LA Weekly being dubbed as the “toast of the town”. The lines outside the venue they would play at got longer, the places becoming more and more packed, and the fanbase growing faster. 

Y/N couldn’t have been more proud. She knew Nikki and the boys put their heart and soul into the band, dedicating every second they could to writing, rehearsing, and working on their image. Their dedication came to a point in which the boys decided to move in together (with Y/N) in a small apartment on the corner of Clark and Sunset. Y/N loved it. The more she hung out with them, the closer they all became. Tommy was the younger brother Y/N never had, Mick and her bonded by judging people, and Vince trusted her to help him with his outfits - a job given to her after he and Blondie broke up when Blondie caught him fucking another girl in the bathroom. While Y/N wasn’t thrilled with how it went down, all that mattered was that Blondie was gone forever. 

After Y/N’s edits of “Take Me to the Top”, her songwriting became asset to the band. Nikki and her would end up writing songs with her together in their bedroom. Y/N’s support and input meant the world to him and he wouldn’t admit it...until one night after a performance at the Roxy. 

The boys had just finished their set and Nikki jumped off the side of the stage where Y/N was. She was about to take his hand when some groupie pushed her aside and went up to Nikki.

“I liked your set,” she purred, pushing up her chest for him to gaze. 

Y/N opened her mouth to say something when a large gentleman grabbed Y/N by the arm. “Let’s say I get you out of here and give you a better show than these pansies?” 

Nikki’s eyes darkened with rage. He pushed aside the groupie before swiping the man’s hand from Y/N. 

“She’s with me asshole,” Nikki growled. 

The fury in his tone and eyes made Y/N nervous. “Let’s just go,” she pleaded.

“You already got one groupie,” the man stepped closer to Nikki. “Sugar tits, over there is yours. This one’s mi-.” 

He barely finished his sentence when Nikki threw a punch. The man almost fell back when Nikki grabbed onto his vest, going face-to-face with him. “Don’t you fucking call her that!” 

Y/N grabbed Nikki’s arm, her patience beginning to run thin. “Nikki, c’mon. It’s not worth it.” 

“Yea, listen to your bitch,” the man spat. 

Just as Nikki was about to go after him again, Vince stepped in between the two, eyeing Y/N. “Get him out of here, now,” he told her.

Y/N pulled Nikki backstage. She opened the dressing room door to find Mick and Tommy hanging out th

“Can you guys step out of the room for a second?” Y/N asked. 

“Let’s go drummer,” Mick mumbled, motioning to the door. 

The second Tommy closed the door behind him, Y/N faced Nikki. “Enough with the-.” 

“I wasn’t going to let him talk to you like that,” Nikki cut her off. “You’re not a groupie. I don’t care how fucking revealing the shit you wear to our shows are, you’re not one of them.” 

Y/N cocked her head back. She tried to put together a response, but no words seemed to come out. Nikki went on. “None of those girls helped to shape any of our songs. None of those girls are taking care of me or the boys during rehearsals or before the show, none of them are up until god knows when helping me write lyrics. You’re...”

His voice trailed off. He swallowed hard. “You’re...what I’m trying to say-.” 

 “I know.” Y/N gave him a reassuring smile. As much as she wanted to hear him say it, she knew why he struggled to do so (even if they’d been dating for almost two years). “It’s ok.” 

Nikki bit his bottom lip. “You’re more than that. You’re my girl.” 

Y/N pecked his lips. “But seriously, enough with the fights, alright?” 

He rolled his eyes as she put an arm around his waist. “Also, groupies are a great thing for rock bands. They add ambiance to the whole rock show and make you look good.”

Nikki scoffed. “Yeah I know that, Vince.”

Y/N stuck her tongue out. “Also I have to say, I mean that girl from tonight was a way hotter than me so why that guy didn’t just take her instead is beyond me.” 

“Will you quit saying shit like that? Fucking drives me up a wall.” 

“I’m just saying-.” 

Nikki pulled her face to his, smashing his lips against her. He then pulled back and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her over his shoulder. 

“Nikki, what the hell!?” Y/N laughed. 

“Just wait til’ we’re home, princess.” 

Two weeks later, after their set at the Starwood, Y/N went home while the Nikki and the boys stayed out. She would’ve joined them if she didn’t have work the next morning, but she changed her work schedule so that her evenings could spent with Nikki and the others.  

She wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep for, but the next thing she knew, she felt someone shaking her body. She let out a scream, startled by the dark figure in her bedroom. 

The figure leaned over and turned on the lamp, revealing it was Nikki. Y/N exhaled, her heart still racing.

“The hell is wrong with you?” she hissed, a hint of sleepiness still lingering in her voice.

“We’re getting a record deal.” 

She shot up, her mouth hung open. “You’re kidding.” 

“This guy Tom from Elektra Records came by the Rainbow and offered us a fucking record deal. We’re going in Monday to sign the contracts.”

Her heart leaped out of her chest, tears of joy and pride streaming down her cheeks. “Nikki...”

He rest her forehead against hers. “Y/N it’s finally happening. We’re going somewhere. Mötley Crüe, you and I - we’re getting out of this place.” 

She wrapped her arms around him tightly as he pulled her to him. His lips met hers, tasting like cheap beer and cigarettes. He pushed her back down on to the bed when their door burst open. Vince and Tommy entered screaming and cheering. They started jumping on the bed as Y/N moved over, giving them room.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Y/N yelled.  

That Monday, Mötley Crüe was signed to a five album deal.